Category: Comedy

Oh for the Love of Pete: Nicknames

Deana2 Comments

Lt. John Dunbar (played by the yummy Kevin Costner) is dubbed a hero after he accidentally leads Union troops to a victory during the Civil War. He requests a position on the western frontier, but finds it deserted. He soon finds out he is not alone, but meets a wolf he dubs “Two-socks” and a curious Indian tribe. (source http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099348/plotsummary)

The Sioux Indians watch him from a distance and give him the nickname “Dances with Wolves.”

That’s the kind of name that can stick with you. Kinda like the time when I was newly married and wanted to plant a vegetable garden. We dug out the area in our back yard, went to the garden store and purchased what I thought was a flat of tomatoes. I was partially correct. There was one tomato plant in an entire flat of star flowers.I never did live that down and from that summer on, my new neighbors knew me as “Farmer Deana.”

I’ve had other nicknames in my life. My grandfather used to call me “pumpkin” and in college I was known as “meep meep” or road runner.  My boys have even had their share of nicknames from Chuckles to Dill Pickle. Nicknames can be a term of endearment and they can be a reminder of our less than graceful moments in life. My husband had a friend in high school whose girlfriend called him “snoogie-bear” in front of everyone. To this day I do not know the mans real name, they just call him Snoogie.

Which brings me to a very delicate issue.

We have a new home in a cove on Lake Hudson. We are the newest and youngest couple there and we have a beaver living under our dock. My neighbors told me to buy a 22 and just shoot the thing myself.

I’m going to be totally honest, while I’m sure I’m more than capable of hunting and killing this rodent – the only reason this beaver is still alive is because I’m surrounded by rednecks and I’m afraid of the nickname. I’m not intentionally trying to be crude here, but there really is no polite way around this – I really do not wish to spend the next 40 odd years of my life being known as The Beaver Shooter  because let’s face it, that’s the kind of name that can stick with a person, you know?

Say it Ain’t So Joe: CBS Defenders is Moving to Friday?

Deana3 Comments

Edited to add on April 23 – my favorite new show of the season “the Defenders” has been cancelled by CBS. That stinks. I didn’t even DVR it, so now I’ll never see the episodes that I missed. It’s a sad sad day in my house.

News has it CBS is moving them from Wednesday night at 10 pm to Friday at 8 (7 Central) Seriously? crap, there goes my favorite show. That’s right CBS is moving their new hit show The Defenders (10 Million Viewers strong) to Fridays starting on February 8.

Jerry O’Connell may be optimistic about the move to Fridays, but I’m not. What are they thinking?

Yes, CBS tends to do well on Fridays – not that I would know because honestly, I don’t watch TV on Fridays. Granted that is due in large part to there is nothing good on TV on Friday nights. Besides,Friday is date night so who in heaven’s name are they trying to recruit here? My teenagers aren’t even home on Fridays.

According to the Detroit News a lot of shows are changing time slots. NBC is planning on moving Law and Order SVU to their 10 pm time slot on Wednesdays and Fox moved Human Target to the same time slot. I’m speculating that is why CBS moved my show.  SVU and Human Target are tough to compete against. So maybe – just maybe CBS knows what they are doing.

And so we have it, the Defenders will be on at 8 (7 Central) starting on February 8 and Blue Bloods (with Tom Selleck) will be on at 10 (9 Central). I’m hoping they don’t plan on keeping Medium in the middle at 9 because that will be the death of all three. Seriously, I cannot imagine viewers staying for Medium – but who knows, maybe they will.

On a positive note, Dan Aykroyd is joining the cast of The Defenders for a short stint – that reason alone is worth following the show to Fridays. I love him. I hope they survive.

On a more neurotic note:

I’ve been checking my stats and it seems my post about my Jim Belushi dream is in the lead. Great. I have ONE weird dream about Jim Belushi and make the crazy mistake of writing about it, and suddenly people from Albania, Chicago, and Canada are on that one entry, daily — uhm, is there something I should know? That one piece is getting more hits than the rest of my stuff.

Look –  I don’t know him – the closest I’ve come to knowing him or any of the other SNL guys is I sat in the parking lot of Second City for two hours back in 1987 and chickened out of auditioning – that’s it. I’m a neurotic former-coward trying to make good by refusing to chicken out of anything else today and I’m having a blast doing it.

I’ve spent the past ten years working behind the scenes of social awareness fundraisers, promoting other artists, writing and selling jokes, and MCing events. I’ve never been the headliner – I never thought of being a headliner until I met another comic six years ago and she talked me into getting over myself – and going for it.

I drive two hours each way for five-minute gigs and open mics.

I stand in line for hours at a time in cattle-call auditions.

I send in photos for commercial bids.

I talk to agents and casting directors.

I beg.

That’s just how it is. And I love it.

When it comes to Jim or anyone else from SNL, I’m just a fan – the kind of fan that would squeak, blush, and throw up if I ever met him or anyone else from the good old days of SNL . And if my track record is indicative of anything, I’d probably have a wardrobe malfunction as well.

Charlie goes back to college tomorrow. I’ve enjoyed my month off with my family and now it’s time to get back to daily life. Have a great weekend ya’ll.

Remembering Gilda, Second City, and Second Chances

Deana6 Comments
Gilda Radner 1946-1989

While we have the gift of life, it seems to me the only tragedy is to allow part of us to die – whether it is our spirit, our creativity or our glorious uniqueness. Gilda Radner

The year is 1987. I am 22 years old, living in Chicago and sitting in the parking lot of Second City, comedy Mecca for a midwestern gal like me.  All I have to do is get out of my car and walk up to the front door and apply for a job. Simple really, and yet not.

I already have a day job and I talk myself out of going inside.

If I could go sit in the car with my 22-year-old self, I’d drag her through that front door today. I mean, what was I thinking?

Comedy was my dream. I spent years laying on my living room floor in the 70’s, watching Saturday Night Live. I thought Gilda Radner walked on water. I studied every nuance about her and memorized every line, every delivery, every movement. I wanted to be on Saturday Night Live more than I wanted to live. She came up through Second City in Canada, I would do it in Chicago.

By 1983, I had been in a few plays, and was already studying under a professional circus clown. While most of my friends were going off to college, we couldn’t afford a university and my grades were no where close enough for a scholarship. So, I figured I’d spend a year in clown college, three years with the circus and then move to Chicago, audition for Second City, and that would be that. It’s the hard way, I wouldn’t be classically trained, but it would be worth it.

Only that isn’t what happened.

A kid from the wrong side of the tracks,with absolutely no self-esteem wanting to make good in this world, can sell a dream in a heart beat if the bid is right. And it was. Money, security and status pushed those dreams right out of my head, but never out of my heart.

At my mother’s request I put off clown college for two years of business school. Not an unwise decision, I could always fall back on the education if I so chose. I could go to clown college after business school. Only I didn’t. Once I graduated from business school, I moved to Chicago. Clown College was quickly becoming a distant memory.

Sprint Communications offered me my own data room at 22. A data room with computers the size of my refrigerator that process as much information in a week as my boy’s Ipods do in a day. I was making $19,500 in 1987, almost double what my mother made in a year. You can’t survive in Chicago on that, but I did and by 1988, I was making almost $30,000 a year. Triple what my mom used to make.

That’s why I didn’t get out of my car.

 I sold my dream for an IBM mainframe and the prestige of having some feminist group put me in their who’s who of women. I was already making more money than my mother ever did. I thought for sure if I kept this up, I’d finally arrive and feel like I belong. I’d prove to the world that I was somebody.

Little did I know that self-esteem cannot be bought and I already was somebody I just hadn’t met her yet.

to be continued… eventually.

When I feel like it.

Really.

 I’m kinda like that you know.

Repost: The Neurotic Messiah

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 My husband and I are getting ready to close on our new fishing cabin / personal retreat in Adair Oklahoma. For the next week or so, I’ll be busy packing, sorting, and cleaning things up. I am also getting ready for Thanksgiving and Christmas. In short, I won’t have much time to write. In the meantime, I thought you guys would enjoy some older posts.  I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

The Neurotic Messiah, copyright December 2000.

Oh no! What have I done? I cannot read a single note. Not one. This score is much more complicated Than I ever anticipated.

I haven’t sung in a choir for twenty year. And so began my chorus of fears.

The starts, the stops, the highs, the lows The beats, the counts, the arpeggios. The conductors who speak in some foreign tongue Is it Latin, or Italian? I know not which one.

The M’s and P’s, and F’s and M’s. Oh, these aren’t your typical church service hymns. Am I an “S” or not an “S” I do not know and now they say my costume I need to sew.

Light the fire but don’t take it out?! Would someone please tell me what that was about?

Now I’m told to sing like Ethel Merman and that we aren’t singing, but giving a sermon.

Oh how I’m beginning to rue the day when Sue Paulison said “Come on let’s play. You don’t need to audition, just show up and sing. Being a part of “The Messiah” is a wonderful thing.”

I’m now thinking my impulse to do this was rash. This may be a check I’ve written that my body can’t cash.

This is not good, not good at all, but then again, does pride not come before the fall?

I drove straight home and on my bed I sat telling my husband, I’m not going back! And that is that!

Then standing in the hallway whom did I see but my 9-year-old son list-ening to me. “I thought you once said don’t ever quit. So please tell me now, why are you doing it?”

I searched through my brain to frantically look for some wise answer to get me off the hook. Failing that I tried for the truth Hoping somehow he’d understand, even in his youth.

“That may be true.” I answer, “But don’t you see? There’s too much to learn and it’s too hard for me. Besides, I really can’t sing, not like the rest.” And he said “That’s okay Mom; just do your best. God won’t mind, just wait and see. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

And so I sat with a guilty heart wondering when my son got so smart. And wondering why he now would choose to remember my words and those words use.

Then henceforth came my next blessing I caught a cold while I was dressing. I coughed and sneezed and wheezed and gasped. My voice, once loud, now barely rasped.

I cannot sing and cough no sir, they have to let me drop now, I’m sure. No guilt, no blame, It’s not my fault. This cruel dance can finally come to a halt.

But Leon’s good. He doesn’t miss a trick. You’d better get well and get well quick. I’ll let you sing you’ll do just fine, people catch colds all the time. And so went my last excuse. Fighting God on this one seemed no use.

My costume’s all sewn by my friend Cyndi, with care, At least now I will have something to wear.

I thought a “piano” is what you played and not what you sang and this cold still makes me sound like a cat in the rain. I’m not an “S” and this much I know that’s to keep us from hissing during the show.

The Marys and Josephs have been picked out with care now if only they could decide when they’ll be there.

The last practice has come we should know what to do. Stand up straight, bend your knees, and that includes you. The Altos still outnumber the rest by a score, next year could you please try soprano some more.

The orchestra is with us, it’s coming together. Somehow I doubt we could get any better.

Tell us Pastor Carter how does it sound now that we’ve done this last go around?

“It needs to be crisp, we’ve lost that somehow. Remember, you are praising God, so let’s pull it together now. Sopranos are too strong, bring it down just a bit. Bass’s your not emphasizing the lines that you hit. Tenors and Altos your entrances are late, but other than that I think it sounds great.”

Our differences we have quietly tucked away, as all Tulsa Lutheran churches sing in har-mony this day. Clear and true our music does ring as we all praise and worship our new-born King.

All fears and joking are now put aside. This is a worship service and our joy we can’t hide.

The true story of Christmas can only be told through the lives of the ones who dare to Behold.

“Behold! I bring you tidings of great joy which shall be to all
people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior which is
Christ the Lord.”

————————-

We will be celebrating our 90th year this December 4, 2010. Won’t you please join us at First Lutheran Church on 13th and Utica for this wonderful presentation of the Christmas Story.

This is our 90th year. Please join us!

The Defenders on CBS: Standing on the Shoulders of Giants.

Deana3 Comments

My youngest son has accused me of uhm, having a thing for male eye candy on TV and he’s getting annoyed. Seriously? The child who shushes us during certain commercials is calling ME out? Ha! I have no clue what he’s talking about.

I watch 24 with my family because it is action packed and my boys like it. Same with all of the other shows I like. Bones, Castle, and The Human Target are all good quality, action packed family shows. So what if the lead actors are a bit on the hunky side, that’s not why I watch them. I’m also a natural redhead, and men read Playboy for the articles, but I digress. I like Lie to Me and The Mentalist as well and no one can accuse those guys of being, “eye candy.”

Look at the alternative popular shows. Raising Hope just raises my blood pressure and tells me that Cloris Leachman’s retirement portfolio is worse than mine, and don’t even get me started on Cougar Town. I hate that show.2 1/2 Men is disgusting.  The Good Wife is depressing. We have enough hospital and policeman soap operas to last to eternity and there’s no real comedy in sitcoms anymore, (well that nerd show is cute, but I can never remember when it’s on) so what’s a girl to do?

Well, if you are like me and sick of garbage on TV, maybe you are plugged in to The Defenders on CBS.  If you aren’t plugged in, then you should be. It’s clean, it’s funny, it has some drama, and it’s got heart, without the candy. I love it. Is it realistic? No, not really. But the world is real enough. Frankly, I like being entertained for an hour.

Granted, maybe the no candy thing isn’t entirely true. Don’t tell my son, but I watch the show for one actor and one actor alone..

Yep..

It’s true.

I have a thing for Nick Morelli.

Shocking I know.

He’s a believable character. I mean yeah, it would be nice to have some mystery novelist, or FBI agent chasing after me, but they seem so high maintenance when you think about it. They are hunky to be sure, but they are so needy. Castle is insecure and Booth has commitment issues. And both guys fall for emotionally unavailable women who lead them around by their noses whether they realize it or not. I mean they look good and all, but do any of them really wear the pants in their relationships? no! And Jack Bower? Every women he falls for gets killed. No thank you.

But, Nick? Nick has heart. He cares deeply about people, about justice, and about life. His partner, played by Jerry O’Connell, is an annoying, self-absorbed playboy. (Jerry plays him very well I might add.) Pretty boys are boring. They are easy to size up, easy to manipulate and easy to toss away. They are, as my friend used to say a one trick pony. I’ll take a man with soul over a man with designer soles, any day.

Nick has heart, he has passion, and he has mystery.

My son can think what he wants. What makes something eye candy, really depends on the lens through which we view it. And what might be appealing to a 20 something female is not necessarily what is appealing to a 45 year old woman who has lived a bit of life – isn’t even close to the same thing.

Granted, I am just a blogger and today’s episode did trash bloggers, and according to some hollywood writer who apparently got their wittle feelers hurt, “bloggers are wanna be journalists who don’t have ethics and write mean nasty things about people.”

Maybe.

And yes, said writer can laugh all the way to the bank while I write for fun. (Translation: I write for free.) But I don’t say mean, nasty things about people. Okay – I said I hated Cougar Town, but can you blame me?

Still..

This unethical, non journalist likes the show. You should check it out.

And for some fun trivia, my favorite quote of the night was “We are standing on the shoulder’s of giants.” which is taken from (per http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Standing_on_the_shoulders_of_giants)

For the Oasis album, see Standing on the Shoulder of Giants.
Dwarfs standing on the shoulders of giants (Latin: nanos gigantium humeris insidentes) is a Western metaphor meaning “One who develops future intellectual pursuits by understanding the research and works created by notable thinkers of the past”; a contemporary interpretation. However, the metaphor was first recorded in the twelfth century and attributed to Bernard of Chartres. It was famously uttered by seventeenth-century scientist Isaac Newton (see below). The picture is derived from the Greek mythology where the blind giant Orion carried his servant Cedalion on his shoulders.

“Standing on the shoulders of giants,” is not just some great pep talk. that phrase  is a reminder that we are but dwarfs standing on the shoulders of greater men and women than our selves so that we may have a better view.

Those of you who read my blog know that I perform stand up from time to time and that I study comedy. I don’t study so that I can borrow or steal — known as being a hack by insiders– but so that I can learn. I write and perform my own stuff. To do less than that would discredit those who went before me.  It would be a disservice to people I respect greatly, like Gilda Radner, Carol Burnett and Lucille Ball. I have a lot of respect for comedy writers and comedy performers. It takes intelligence to write and perform clean comedy. There is a lot of intelligence in The Defenders.

No matter what our field, our ambition, or our goals, we are all standing on the shoulders of giants. Those great thinkers who went before us to lift us up to better heights. Never should we be so bold as to think the hill we stand on was made of our hands.

Compared to these guys, I’m a dwarf. A very grateful one and I’ll never forget that.

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart: Confessions of a Spiritual Bulimic. All rights reserved. 11/17/10

When Teams Share Names

Deana7 Comments

I worked for Sprint Communications from 1986 – 1990. During that time I fixed computers, wired muxes, installed PBX systems and ran a data room the size of my kitchen. I was pretty smart back then I think. Even so, sports and I are not really friends.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll watch the Bears with my guys any day and back then, I sat in the bleachers of Wrigley Field with my binoculars (to better see the second baseman with) like every other gal in the city. I love baseball, and I love my Cubs. But.. even an avid sports fan (Rhino groupie) has her limits.

Take the day I was covering the lunch shift at the switchboard.

Me: Sprint Communications, how may I direct your call?

Voice on other end: Yes, this is Joe Montana, may I please speak with Loren?

Me: Oh I get it, a code name! Sure I’ll put you right through. (Loren was our secret service guy — used to work for President’s Ford and Reagan.)

Voice: No. This is really Joe. We went to college together.

Me: Oh I know you! You’re that guy who does those panty hose commercials. I love those commercials.

Voice: Sigh. No, that would be the other Joe. I play football.

Me: Really? For who?

Turns out Mr Namath Montana played for San Francisco. Hmm.. I would have known that if I really cared about football. But I didn’t. Turns out, he was cute! Shoulda ‘paid closer attention.

Now.. If I got Joe wrong, can you blame me for thinking that the New York Giants won the World Series?

I think teams should make up their own names and not steal from other sports. Just sayin.

Wordless Wednesday: Clowning Around

Deana2 Comments
Younger Days - College Circa 1984

Never Skip Church to Write Comedy: Just Sayin’

Deana8 Comments

(Added 1/3/11 – Not that I’m neurotic or anything – okay, I am, but that isn’t the point. – While I’m happy you are here – please note that this post is just an off-center offering regarding a glimpse at my strange mind — it’s not about Jim so if you are looking for him – check his web page at www.jimbelushi.ws – really – you will be glad you did. That is the only official page for Jim Belushi – according to his webmaster, Jim is not on Facebook. Correction: Jim is now on Facebook according to his webmaster and you can find it HERE.) – 9/13 Oh and TY Google for screwing up your “tidbits” and making people think  I said THIS (as in my blog) is his page when I said the ws page was.  Okay back to our regularly scheduled post.

I had a dream the other day that I was married to Jim Belushi and I am beside myself over the irony.

It was your typical Sunday afternoon. The guys are watching football on the big screen and I am up in our room writing comedy on my lap top. I am on fire, writing great bits of wit and wisdom.  I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, I am no longer in my room but on a sound stage. I look at my teenage son and notice he’s written the letters U and F on his front teeth — he had apparently looked in a mirror while writing his message to the world with a sharpie. Dad (Played by Jim Belushi) enters the kitchen scene and we argue over our son’s newest stunt. I point out that every time he smiles he’s really telling us something obscene, even if it is dyslexic. Dad scratches his head and acts oblivious, I call him a moron – enter canned laughter and I exit the scene.

Off set I place my hand on my chest and proclaim to myself “Yes! I so totally rock as a comedic actress.” Looking back I see a look of shock on Jim’s face. A heaviness settles in my heart and before I can shake it, the scene goes black.

SCENE TWO:

I am in my real bedroom sorting and tossing monstrously huge broken bottles of  conditioner into a trash bag on my bed. My heart is heavy and I am feeling more insecure than I’ve felt in ages, which is saying a lot really. I’m speaking with a brunette mother figure and simply ask her to go get Jim for me, I want to speak to him.

This scene is different, it’s not a set. My confidence is gone and each bottle of hair product I try to throw away is larger and more awkward than the last. I’m lost in that struggle when Jim enters behind me, clears his throat and waves a pillow in my direction to get my attention.

I take a step toward him, only he crosses his arms and so  I stop. I”m a wreck and while he notices that, he does nothing to make me feel better. He simply stares at me for what feels like forever and finally speaks. We are apparently married or something in this dream and Jim definitely has the upper hand in this conversation.

Jim: You wanted something?

Me: yeah. About what I said. I shouldn’t have said that.

Jim: You mean calling me a moron?

Me: (Eyes on the floor) Yes, That. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have said it.

Jim: Do you think I’m a moron?

Me: (Looking up) NO!

Jim: Then why did you say it?

Me: I don’t know.

Jim: (Arms still crossed raises right eye brow.)

Me: (Shuffles feet, starts smoothing my bedspread) – I was trying to be confident and funny. Like you guys. (Personal comment here: Like I’d EVER say that out loud, you know? I’m such a dork in my dreams.)

Jim: So, calling me a moron makes you confident and funny?

Me: yes, I mean No. … sigh.. I was trying to fit in. I’m not like you guys – but I want to be.  (Sit down on bed and stares at floor.) – (Wouldn’t say that one either! Who writes this crud. Oh yeah, I’m dreaming that’s right. sigh)

Jim: (Scratches his head and catches my eyes) — So you don’t think I’m a moron.

Me: No, I don’t. Actually, I think you’re awesome.

Jim: (Arms unfold and hands go in pockets) I see. …Comedy is a tough deal. First thing I’d tell you is to quit trying so hard to fit in. You are better than that and that won’t bring you confidence. People see right through that crap anyway.  Just be yourself. Oh and don’t call me a Moron, it hurts my feelings.

Jim leaves the room and I lay down.

Scene goes black. and I wake up.

It

was

a

dream.

CRAP —

I have to admit this dream kinda shook me up for the rest of the day as well as most of Monday. As a middle-aged woman stepping on stage, entering into yet again another male dominated field – having a dream about Jim Belushi calling me out, is a bit of a neurotic deal, you know? I mean he’s played all the venues I’ve ever dreamed of back when I performed all those years ago – Second City, SNL, Movies, Sitcoms. You name it he’s done it. He’s like the Godfather of comedy.  Okay, maybe that was a stretch, but you know what I mean right?  I used to see him at Cubs games when I lived in Chicago. No I don’t know him. Never met the guy.  Still, he’s fearless and funny and just a regular joe from Chicago and I felt like a five-year old in trouble with Dad in that last scene.

And so I’m stuck with two thoughts:

1. Jim Belushi is either some kind of father figure, my conscience, or God, and I’ve totally lost my mind

AND

2. I’ll never skip church to write comedy again. I’m pretty sure God is messing with me.

I could ask a thousand questions about what does this all mean, why Jim? Why the neuroses? Why can’t I have a cricket for a conscience? Why the conditioner – okay if you’ve seen my hair you get that one.  Question’s won’t help. I still have my set for Yukon to finish editing. I have to look at Jim later — I’m sure there is something about him — that made him come to mind while writing on Sunday — Time will tell. I did delete everything I wrote on Sunday afternoon, — Dream Jim was right, it really wasn’t that good.

For those interested, Mr Belushi is in a new television series called The Defenders which is actually really good. I like it. You cannot turn on a tv without seeing an advertisement for this show, which is probably why he was on my brain to begin with. At least I hope that is the reason and this isn’t going to turn into some Christmas Scrooge thing where I’m visited by comic ghosts of the past, present, and future. That would suck.

(Side note: I did buy his book, Real Men According to Jim, and reviewed it HERE.)