Pick Me Ups

Ten Jason Show Pick Me Ups

(things that are sure to make me smile when I'm feeling blue)

1.  An empty house all to myself

2.  This little guy

3.  Good comedy TV

4.  A catchy new dance tune

5.  Laughing uncontrollably with my friends

6.  Meeting long time bloggy friends in person for the first time

7.  Getting lost in a highly engrossing novel

8.  A long walk

9.  A glass of La Crema chardonnay

10.  Peace in the family

(Thanks to Pumpkin Delight for this Pick Me Up idea!)

Back By Popular Demand: Single Sentence Soup

Each week The Jason Show sends scouts out into the blogosphere, scouring blogs both well-known and yet-to-be-discovered for those single lines that are attention grabbers. Single sentences that resonate for their element of humor, touch of the bizarre, or ability to provoke thought are prestigiously linked to their author, in hopes that viewers of The Jason Show like you will be able to savor a serving of Single Sentence Soup just as our scouts have.

" Maybe if they didn’t raise me with goats I would be able to mail items in a timely fashion."

"I'm one of those people who can see shapes or images in anything, like the people who see Mary or Jesus in chips. Except, I don't usually see Mary or Jesus. I don't think they want me eating them." 

"And you cuss and slump to the bottom of the shower stall and through your tears you see that your foot still has doo on it and the ick melting off it is swirling around the drain, which is also precariously close to your hoo-ha?"

"So I told Sue to just pretend to blow.  Lesbians always struggle with this."

I Love the Beach (In Theory)

It seems that every summer there must be at least one episode of The Jason Show dedicated to how I love the beach, in theory.  I think it is a general human expectation that people must love the beach, and if you don't love the beach, then there is something wrong with your human programming.  I try to love the beach.  Every year, I try.  But what with the sand getting all over everything and the water being so salty and wet, I always end up wanting to go back to civilization and swim in the pool and have a shower and sit on my chaise.

On the last episode of The Jason Show, entitled "The Lifeguard," I shared a beach fantasy.  It was actually mostly true, except for the part where the lifeguard sat down and kissed me.  He really did come up to me, and I really was eye level with his God's gift to gay guys and straight women abs, but he really only came over to me to say that I didn't look like I was going in the water (because I looked like this)

but he just wanted me to be aware that his shift was over and he was closing down the lifeguard station because it felt like Alaska he was ending his shift since it was almost 4:30.

As I read my book I watched this seal and felt so lucky to see such sea life up close.

But then I heard The Lifeguard say to someone else that the seal was sick, and probably dying, from increased bacteria levels in the water.  So instead of watching sea life, I watched sea life die.  By the time we left he wasn't moving any more.  And this damn seagull kept pecking at its head and flippers and tail.  Give the poor guy a break, he's trying to die in peace!

Did I mention it was freezing and it started to snow?  Diego, Ines, and Giancarlo took off in this direction toward the pier to get their bodies moving to warm up and delay the onset of frostbite:

And I still looked like this:

And the hairs on my legs stood on end, and the muscles in my feet were permanently contracted from the low temperatures:

And I wondered why the beach was so empty:

Just in case you had forgotten from the last episode, this is the lifeguard station 

where The Lifeguard warmed his hands by a fire and stared at me longingly through the window

watched to make sure the two other humans on the beach and I didn't drown.

Ahhhh, sunny Southern California at its best:

Diego, Ines, and Giancarlo returned from their walk and hypothermia had set in they thought they'd make a sandcastle.  

As I watched, I looked like this:

But it was too cold to play in the sand.  So we decided to open our cooler and eat our little picnic.  As I opened the lid, I felt a warm rush of air blast out of it, nearly thawing my face, at least enough for me to muster a smile:

Okay, so our trip to the beach wasn't that bad.  Yes it was.  We had a nice time even though my toes had to be amputated and I chipped a tooth from my teeth chattering so much it was a little chilly.

Next time, I'm going to the beach with this lady.  I'm sure she'll teach me how to stop being such a wussy-boy enjoy the beach properly.  

The Lifeguard

Some of us in the cast of The Jason Show went to the beach the other day, which I will post about in a day or two, but I couldn't keep this part of our excursion quiet any longer.  

I'm a lazy beachgoer.  I don't frolic in the waves.  I don't actually even like to go into the water at all.  I don't really like to build sand castles or get buried in the sand.  I don't even like all of the preparation that goes into a beach trip.  I prefer just to get my towel and my book and get in the car.

Anyway, I do like to lay in the sand and read my book, looking up occasionally to watch the waves or the people.  This is exactly what I was doing on this particular day.  Giancarlo, Diego, and Ines had gone off on a walk to the distant pier.  As my eyes moved from object to person to object again in between chapters, I noticed one lifeguard approaching the lifeguard station, apparently ready to begin his shift.  After a couple of minutes, the other lifeguard came out of the station and started to walk toward the parking lot.  I looked down at my book and began my next chapter.

"Hey, what are you reading?"

Startled, I looked up, eye level with a tan, toned, and slightly hairy tummy.  It was the lifeguard who had just gotten off duty.  "Uh, it's a Patricia Cornwell novel, her latest, Scarpetta."

"Cool.  I haven't read any of her books but I hear she's good," he offered.

Unsure about why this very good looking lifeguard who was at least 15 years younger than me, I replied, "I've read all of her novels."  Silence.

"Mind if I sit down?" he asked.

"Uhhhhh, sure. Sure."  Why would he want to sit down?

As he sat in the sand next to my towel, he said, "Nice day today.  Not too busy though.   Ummm, I noticed your rainbow bag.  Sorry if I'm being too forward, but are you into guys?"

Lump in throat.  Butterfly in tummy.  "Yessssss.  I'm into guys....."

He leaned closer.  I glanced around.  Before I knew what was really happening, he kissed me.  ON THE LIPS.  His breath was salty and minty all at the same time.  I pulled back.  What the hell?

"Wow....look....I'm really flattered here.  REALLY flattered.  You're a good looking guy and I'm sure you're a very nice person, but I'm married.  Did you see who I came here with?  The guy is my husband and the boy is our son."

He pulled back, too.   "Oh.  I thought the guy and the lady were married and the boy was their son and you were carrying the rainbow bag, so I just figured..." He stood up.  Once again I was looking at his abdomen.  Oh sweet Mother of Pearl.  That abdomen.

"I'm really sorry," he apologized.  "I assumed.....well, have a nice day."  And with that, he got up and he walked over the bluff, gone.  

My head was reeling!  I felt all giddy and flattered and bewildered at the same time.  And not even guilty at all because how was I to know what was going to happen?

After musing about this for about 15 minutes and wondering who I could text to share my unlikely story with, I put my head down and continued reading.

And then, I woke up.

Agnostic Blessing: Hummus

Blessing #407

Hummus

Tasty and nutritious, I've never met a hummus I didn't like!

And you?

Hold On!

The Semi-Hot Dead Sea Salesman Who Invaded My Personal Space and Then Got Mad at Me for Not Buying Anything

Making your way through the mall has become much like walking through the carnival games section of a carnival.  People call out to you, trying to entice you to come and check out the latest and greatest must have products.  Usually I have no problem just smiling and saying, "No thank you" without even breaking my stride.  Today, however, I was in no hurry and in a relaxed sort of mood, so when the (reasonably attractive) guy selling those Dead Sea skin products came right up to me, took my hand, and rubbed my arm while looking straight into my eyes, I stopped.  Hell, why not?

"My name iiss Avner, what iiss your name?"  His hand in mine felt warm and soft, nothing at all like the handshakes to which I am accustomed.  

"Jason," I smiled.

"Ohhh, you are from here?  I am from Israel, Jerusalem, near zee Dead Sea."

"Oh, that's nice." I replied as he took my bags and put them on a chair, squirt some sort of exfoliating cream on arm, pushed a small box in my free hand, and began rubbing the cream around on my arm, all while chattering away about zees amazing products from zee Dead Sea.  

I had to smile.  In fact, I was almost laughing.  The arm exfoliating felt nice and he smelled good other than the subtle hint of tobacco on his breath.  He was very much in my personal space.

Finishing with my arm, he posed the question, "What eez more important to you, your eyes or your face?"

Puzzled, I thought for a moment about how I really need both of them and I like them equally, but then I realized where he was going.  "My eyes."

"Yesss.  I thought you would say dat.  Your eyes do need help.  You have many deep wrinkles and large dark, puffy circles.  Very bad. I choose the worst eye and I do zee thing."  

My worst eye?  He placed another two small boxes in my hands and practically put my head on my shoulder and proceeded to read the descriptions on the boxes to me, emphasizing the words dark, shadows, puffiness, wrinkles, creases, and age spots.  He then put eye serum on my left eye, pushing nearly up into my eyeball, saying, "I push up, up, up, training zee muscles in face to go up and not down like they already do now."  

As he poked his finger into my left eye, I looked at the shoppers passing by with my good eye,  smiling behind his arms, feeling silly, feeling gullible.

"You see?  Now look in  zee mirror.  You see how your other eye still is puffy and wrinkling?  It even sag some.  Very deep creases.  But zee eye with zee serum?  It iiss so much nicer now."  I looked into the magnification mirror and tried to see the difference.  I thought maybe I did.  Boy,  my eyes did look bad.

Flambuoyant Avner continued this routine in a similar fashion with my hands and nails, buffing them with flair.  Then I asked the ominous question.  "How much are each of these?"

"Zey are $179.00 each.  Zey last for twelve months."

"Oh.  That's kind of a lot."

"Zat is why for you, I give deal.  I am so good.  Come closer, I make deal."  I stepped closer.

"I give zee serum, cream, nail kit, exfoliant, and lotion all for $300.00.  It iiss good deal!  Look!  I show you zee receipts from today."

Avner took out the sales drafts from the day's transactions.  People had been spending $300.00, $400.00, even $600.00 on  Dead Sea products.

"I'm sorry, it's still a lot of money." I apologized.

"Okay.  Look.  For you I give deal.  I give you all for $149.00."

"I can't.  I can't spend that right now.  But yes, you are good!  You should be a car salesman." I grinned.

This ruffled Avner's feathers.  "Nooo, I should not be car salesman.  Dead Sea line iiss my life.  Now, I spend twenty minutes with you, so you must buy something.  You like zee eye serum zee best?  I give for $69.00."

I sighed.  "No, I can't right now."

Avner suddenly turned his back on me as he emphatically stated, "Fine."

He began replacing his products on the shelves.  I walked around him to gather my bags and looked at him.  "Thank you."

He wouldn't acknowledge me.  When my students don't acknowledge me when I say "good morning" or "hello" I just repeat it, only louder, until they respond.

"Thank you," I said louder.  He still ignored me.  I laughed under my breath, but I was determined for him to tell me I was welcome.

"Thank you!"  Now I was getting obnoxious.  He stopped, turned to me abruptly, and said in a calm, controlled, but peeved voice, "Have a nice day."

Then he returned to his work.

I walked away, chuckling.  He was the one who grabbed me from the mall concourse.  He was the one stroked my arm and grabbed my bags and pushed me down into the chair.  And now he was mad at me?  Unbelievable!

It almost ruined my good, relaxed mood.  Almost.

Letter to a Tenth Grade Me

Dear fifteen year old Jason,

It has been quite an eventful couple of years, hasn't it?   Your social life has gotten so much better, but with that your best friend has moved away, and let me just tell you right now that those intense, inexplicable, obsessed feelings you have about him are a whole lot more than friendship.  You're in love with him, and I know that it is killing you to have him gone and it is killing you even more to try to understand why you think about him every single moment of the day.  

Not only that, but when he comes to visit, why do you think you can't eat anything and if you do you throw it up?  I'll save you some time and confusion.  Soon you'll beg your parents to get some professional help because you're losing weight and you can't function this way and you're starting to fear for your own health and well being.  You throw up every time you're around him because you ARE in love with him (Yes.  Newsflash!  You're gay!) and at the same time your religious devotions are telling you that it is so, so wrong, The Sin Next to Murder wrong, and all of this confusion and conflict is manifesting itself in this way.

So what do you do about this?  Accept your feelings about him.  Of course, you won't do anything about it at this point in your life, but just accept it for what it is.  It is okay.  Try to understand it.  Don't try to correlate those feelings and your religious beliefs.  Just let them be for now.  And move on with people around you, make those new friendships, and don't be afraid.  Everything will be just fine.

Sincerely,

An older and wiser You

Fight Cancer by Looking at My Bare Chest!

There is a genius blogger named Lotus (aka Sarcastic Mom) who is fighting the good fight against breast cancer.  She has a contest going on where people submit photos of their “bewbs” or their “mewbs".  She has posted the entrants on her blog, readers vote on their favorites, and the more visitors she gets, the more her advertisers will pay her, and all of these donations will go to the Susan G. Komen Foundation.  Brilliant, agreed?

As I have mentioned numerous times, I am participating in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Walk in San Diego this coming November.  What other better way to further contribute to the cause than to direct you to Lotus and her Bewbs and Mewbs contest to further her success.

Thanks to Avitable, I headed over to this contest yesterday as well as today, and what a fun time I had looking at bewbs and mewbs, voting, and looking at bewbs and mewbs, and then looking again!  Don’t worry, the contest is tastefully done.  Nothing pornographic, just some awesome bewb cleavage of all kinds.  And some mewbs.

 I know, I know.  You’re busy, and you probably have no desire to look at bewbs, much less mewbs.  But will you do it as a charitable action?  A philanthropic click, if you will?

Thank you.  I have convinced a few of you.  But there are still some of you who aren’t really considering doing this little favor for me at all, even though it is free and easy and just may be that last few cents that facilitates the cure for the disease that influences us all.  You soulless individual.

Okay, okay, okay.  What’s in for you, you say.  What will you get out of this, you whine.  Selfish bratstard.  Fine. Here’s what we’ll do:   If I let you take a quick peek at my mewbs, will you then go and click and vote and then click once a day for the rest of July?  You will?  Promise?  Okay.  Fine.  Here.  Take a look at my mewbs.  Pervert.

   

Yes, these are really my mewbs!  Noooo, I did not get these off of the internet! 

Well, what are you waiting for?  I upheld my end of the deal!  Go click and vote! 

Oh, and one more thing:  Would you do breast cancer research a favor and provide posts and links and stuff to this episode of The Jason Show and also to Lotus?  That way a) my exhibitionist proclivities will be quenched for a while and b) Lotus will make even that much more money to donate to the Cure.

Thank you.  God bless you.  And God bless America.

Stream of Consciousness Blogging: I'm a Bit Tawdry

Things have calmed down here on the set of The Jason Show.  The in-laws are in Italy, Amelia is busy with her life having a wonderful summer and hardly ever here, Giancarlo has been working, and I've managed to have a bit of quality down time.  Quality down time without any more bad news.  I'm telling you, there were two weeks in June that it was one thing afters another here on The Show.  Some of it, heartbreaking.    When it rains, it pours.

One thing that has been going on that I have not written about has been some pretty gnarly stuff regarding my dad.  I'm not going to go into detail, but the decision has finally been made for his wife who suffers from Alzheimer's to be put in a facility.  You may recall that my dad has been trying to take care of his wife with advanced Alzheimer's while he is struggling with Parkinson's.  Part of his problem is that he has refused to take his medication until just recently.  Medicaid has provided three different home-health workers to come in and help take care of them.  They come in different shifts, so there is someone there pretty much from 7 am to 7 pm every day.  HOWEVER.  Home-health workers are like nurses.  They can make your life a zillion percent better, or they can make your life torturous.  And that's all I can say.

There is a LOT about my dad that I actually am not ready to say yet, but if you're a regular viewer you'll know that I keep eluding to that fact that I have a JUMBO of a story to tell about my dad's life.  That story has been quietly laying in the back of my mind and only when I stop to tell bits and pieces of it to a friend do I stop and say to myself, "Holy cow!  This stuff is unbelievable!"  I was walking with my friend Sue the other day and giving her an update on my dad and she just listened in awe and then said, "Jason, you just can't make this stuff up!"  She's right.  I really couldn't.

Speaking of Sue and walking.  This week I reached the minimum goal of $2,300.00 needed to participate in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day!  There is no way I could have done it without the incredible generosity of friends that I know in real life and those that I have not yet met in person.  I am so touched and grateful to them!  And, my training is going well.  I have come to realize that I could probably walk 20 miles today and tomorrow and the next day without too much grief, however it is just the time that it takes to walk 20 miles a day that I would find difficult.  After about an hour of walking, I start to think about all of the things I need/want to do at home or elsewhere, and I get antsy.

And now, to end this post, let me say a word about Facebook.  I was emailing to a friend yesterday about the fact that whenever I post something on Facebook, I feel like a traitor to The Jason Show.  I have invested so much time, energy, and emotion into The Show that I feel like I'm selling myself short with Facebook.  It almost feels cheap and tawdry.  Okay, not really cheap and tawdry, but just lazy.  That's it.  Lazy.  I'm not saying all of you active Facebookers out there are lazy or cheap or tawdry or lazy--but that's just the conclusion I have reached for myself.  (Yes, I am lazy and cheap and tawdry.  Kidding!  I am not lazy and cheap.  Maybe a little tawdry.)   Not that every single event is bloggable, and some things are most certainly just one liners that lend themselves well to Facebook.  Not that Facebook doesn't serve its purpose for me.  It is great for me to keep tabs on people that I know, and I admit it is fun to go to work and know little details about people that I know but may not necessarily see every day.    Plus, it has made communication really even easier than it was before.  But you all know this already, so why am I blathering on about it?

I'm blathering on about it because it is summer, and I have time to blather if I want!  That last cup of coffee has helped as well!

Now.  Speaking of that last cup of coffee....

Twenty Four at Heart & Lucky Thirteen and Counting

Route:  The Hollywood Freeway

Destination:  The Grove; Fairfax District, Los Angeles

Meeting Spot:  Abercrombie and Fitch

Purpose:  To finally meet the beautiful and talented Suzanne of Twenty Four at Heart and the beautiful and talented Sandi of Lucky Thirteen and Counting, two women who amaze me and intrigue me.

Suzanne:  Witty, smart, friendly photographer who loves the beach, and writing about the rich and plastic people of Orange County, physical therapy, and her bionic nipples. 

If you haven't paid her a visit before, you're really missing out.  She's one of my all-time favorites. Suzanne has been known to be a bit scandalous and a tad controversial from time to time, but in a very harmless, (yet sometimes juicy) way.  

Sandi:  A sweet, busy, resourceful, determined mother of 15 children from my state of origination, Utah.  

(Yes.  15 children!)  

I love reading Sandi's blog because she puts it all out there, and what you see is what you get!  Her posts remind me that I have no room to feel tired when it comes to parenting.  Today I asked her what her secret was to managing her large family, and she said, "Well, how do you manage your classroom?  It's the same."  Suddenly it all made sense to me.  I also enjoy her writing because we both come from a Mormon background but neither of us are much involved with Mormonism anymore.  Perspective.  Perspective.  Perspective.

Lunch:  The Farm of Beverly Hills on the patio with a perfect view of the fountains and the variety of individuals strolling by.

Conversation:  Easy, interesting, meaningful, and fun.

Farmer's Market at the Grove:  Disappointingly not the same as it used to be!

The Grove:  Gorgeous shopping and dining venue, great spot for "star" sightings.

Los Angeles:  A city of which I never tire!

Mission accomplished!  Thank you, Suzanne and Sandi, for driving up to LA to see me!

Thoughts on Nakedness, Nudity, and Baring It All

It is no huge secret that I would happily be a nudist if I could.  I love being naked.  Sometimes clothes are just too constricting.  I've been to a nude beach once and I've been to a nude resort once.  If you speak to a traditional nudist they will tell you that it really has nothing to do with sex, and in most instances I would agree.

Of course, there are many settings in which nudity is always unacceptable, most especially when it makes others uncomfortable.

One such occasion is when you are staying at your in-law's house and you walk into the living room only to see your father-in-law playing the piano, completely naked.  (This happened to a close relative of mine who shall not be named but he/she will know who he/she is when he/she reads this!  Wait.  That sounded like my close relative is a he-she.  No, not a he-she, my relative might be a he or might be a she, I'm just not being clear on this in order to further protect her/his anonymity.)

Another time that nudity is not appreciated is in a public restroom.  Once while we were on a cruise, I was in one of the public restrooms near a dining area and the waters were a little choppy.  While walking into the restroom, I had to put my hand against a stall door to steady myself.  The gentleman inside the stall had forgotten to close the latch, so the door flew open, and there he was, sitting there, wearing nothing but tennis shoes!  (When Diego was younger he would insist on taking all of his clothes off in order to sit on the throne.  This man never outgrew that phase, I suppose.)  Imagine his surprise when the door burst open!

Nudity is also disturbing when it involves the homeless or the mentally ill, which I guess really goes without saying.  While I lived in South America, there was a tall, thin homeless/mentally ill woman that just skipped around town completely naked, every day.  Nobody ever did anything about this situation, and everyone in town just her "la desnudita" (the naked lady).  She scared me a bit because if you walked past her, she would snarl and twist her nipples, even if you were trying not to look.

So...hey!  It is now your turn to share your favorite naked story.  I know you've got one, so don't be selfish!  Dish it up!

Released From Prison

If you're a new Jason Show viewer, it is likely that you have never seen these episodes about a most horrendous event, when my grandson's 19 year old father shook him so hard that he nearly died, and the gut wrenching events that followed, including his incarceration in the California prison system.

Despair

When the Unthinkable Happens

Places You Never Expect to Go

Family Tragedy

Family Tragedy II

Family Tragedy III

Family Tragedy IV

A Dip in the Roller Coaster Ride

A Big Heart

Blogmanity

Elijah Update

From the Mind of a Criminal

This week Nathan was released early from prison, without a parole officer, due to the state budget crisis.  He has not attempted to contact any of us.

I'm not sure how I'm going to react if he ever does.

Living on Wisteria Lane: Coincidence?

Did you know that I live on Wisteria Lane? Here is photographic evidence:

Sometimes things happen in such a way that you have to ask yourself, "Is this really a coincidence?  Or, is there some other mysterious power here at work?"

The residents of Wisteria Lane have been wondering this for quite some time about the house at 2304 Wisteria Lane.  Those who have been around Wisteria Lane since its beginning call this particular house the "bad luck house."

Listen closely, and you'll hear why:

1-The original owners, a wealthy businessman and his fashion model wife moved in and the wife immediately  spent a hundred thousand dollars on upgrades.  Her husband's business soon went under, she began having thyroid problems which ended her fashion career, and they divorced.  They sold the house and even in the hot market of that time, they did not recuperate their upgrade investment.

2-The second owners lived there for less than a year.  They were very quiet, and kept to themselves.  Then the husband had a heart attack and died in the entry way.  The wife immediately moved out and the house sold in less than a week.

3-The third owners were a home-schooled, blended family, Brady Bunch style, but without the charm and orange counter tops.   The oldest often pulled the two year old on a skateboard down the street behind his motorcycle.  The other children ran amok in the neighborhood, including fishing in the ornamental lake which only held koi and giant goldfish, which is strictly forbidden by the neighborhood's Covenants, Conditions and Restrictions.    Then one of the parents had an affair, they divorced, and sold the house.

4-The fourth owners remodeled.  They put in expensive wooden doors, marble floors downstairs, and wood floors downstairs, easily spending another hundred thousand.  They immediately became chummy with several of the neighbors.  The man of the house promptly had an affair with the neighbor across the street, which was discovered by another neighbor at a dinner party.  This ended in a violent altercation in the middle of the street.  The woman who was cheated on went on a trip, and while she was gone her husband moved out, taking every last stick of furniture except for the crib.  But before he did that, he painted all of the walls in a dark, gaudy faux finish that appears to be smoke damage at first glance.  Then a violent custody battle ensued and the police were called to the residence several times.

5-These owners put the house up for sale, but while it was on the market, the owner's cousin rented it.  And promptly turned it into a meth lab.  Needless to say, this dampened the appeal of the house.  So it stayed on the market for a year while that situation was resolved.

6-The newest owners are in the process of doing their own expensive remodel, and will not move in for a month or so.  Do they know anything about their home's dark past?  Should someone warn them?  Or would this be planted a seed of doubt and negativity in their minds, only to bring about a self-fulfilling prophecy?

Yes, the bad luck house has taken its toll.  And the question remains, is this all merely a coincidence?  Or is there a sinister force behind all of this misfortune?