Posts Tagged ‘naked Ewan McGregor’

It’s a funny phrase, methinks, and though not in my word-vernacular, it was a practice of a friend of mine in high school; not quite clear any more which friend because, you see, by 11th Grade I was drinking and smoking a lot of pot. If it’s the friend I think, she was already a senior. Figures.

Maybe alcohol is a gateway drug to losing your need for skivvies.

For you men who’ve never worn a hippie-skirt at a Grateful Dead concert with the opportunity to be bare underneath, I can say you are missing out, at least from this twinkly’s perspective.

It does remind me of my love for a man in a kilt. I’m getting weak just thinking about it. Maybe time for my Big Blue coffee drink to stave off this light-headedness.

That’s better. I’m no longer falling off my chair.

I just think it’s a funny way to describe not wearing underwear. Unfortunately, the person who posted this photo has marred the man’s beautiful legs by writing all over the bottom of the picture. But hers is a fashion-related blog and that’s not really what I’m looking for here.

Anyway, I’m thinking going commando can be applied to anything that’s not candy-ass, a la O’ Brien.

Here are a few commando things:

cleaning each tooth at its juncture with other teeth or gums with Stim-U-Dents


wooden toothpick dispensers

The last one of these I saw was at Trecaso’s Restaurant in Akron. This is not exactly like the toothpick dispenser I remember at Trecaso’s. Theirs was, if memory serves, made of oak and was more squared-off at the top. Maybe that’s just a fantasy embellishment on my part. Does anyone from Akron/Kent or even Ohio at all know if Trecaso’s is still there? I loved that place. Fried zucchini and lasagna were my stand-bys. It was the best fried zucchini in the world. Not greasy. Not some junk-food version of vegetables. Thinly-julienned strips of fresh zucchini, lightly battered and quick-fried to crispy perfection.

No trip to Trecaso’s was complete without an ice cream at Mary Coyle’s afterward. I always got three scoops of their very-creamy coffee ice cream with hot fudge on top. The bright red, neon lights made it almost impossible to see your date in the glare.

I have fond memories of the Highland Square area. It reminds me of my earliest days with Hubby; an old Ohio pal who I saw a John Sayle’s movie with at the old theater with worn, red-velvet seats and gold, braided ropes to cordon off the unuseable balcony; a yoga class on the second floor of a nice old house with an older, roundish teacher; and the Akron Goodwill which was not in Highland Square, but downtown. Somehow, I associate it with that area.

The Akron Goodwill was a favorite destination for me when I had babies. I used to go and comb through the children’s books. They had the best selection of any Goodwill/Salvation Army I’ve ever visited. Not so great for clothes. Sometimes the occasional cool furniture, but the kid’s books were the bomb. They apparently got all of the discards from the Akron Public Library. All sorts of cool out-of-print things with bad bindings and deteriorating paper. I used to let the woman who worked in the book area hold Violet so I could browse. She loved holding her, I loved the break and the shopping. I miss that Goodwill.

driving on Rte 9 through Hadley, Mass, on a Saturday afternoon of Halloween weekend with the beginning of the first heavy snowfall of the season (10-12″ predicted by the end)

Allowing yourself to wait at a light, though still green, because you can see that it will soon turn red and if you go forward through the intersection your car will effectively block traffic in all directions. I know it seems like the commando thing to do is to plow forward into the middle of the intersection though the traffic in front of you is moving at a snail’s pace. Driving with gusto, running through a red light, etc would seem commando. But trust me, moderating your pressure and tempo yields the sexiest results and is the true commando way. Be brave of heart and let that foot up off the gas pedal.

the blues

piano players and singers who moderate their pressure on the keyboard and keep good time

the hip beat

the square beat, when determined by your cultural-musical evolutionary heritage

Oh, back to kilts….Alan Cumming. Remember him? He’s Scottish. Like Ewan McGregor. And I’ve seen photos of each of them wearing kilts. And I’ve seen a lot of films in which Ewan McG is not wearing undies or anything else for that matter, forget about the kilt.

I’ve been taking an Improv I class down in Hartford (one hour drive…ick) and one of the first things I’ve been told is to “make bold choices.” So when I watch actors who are really good, I see this in action time and again. Who cares if you haven’t got the best voice, the most beautiful face, if you are not the tallest, longest, biggest, curviest, buxomest. If you are bold in front of an audience, you’ve done about 70% of the work that needs doing. The rest is gravy. Go commando every time.

Lady Gaga–she’s not exactly pretty, she doesn’t dance well, she doesn’t have a pretty voice. But she’s got balls. Judi Dench. Well, she’s got it all–the classical British theater-training, the vocal control, the beauty. But it’s her solid brass quality that is most scene-stealing. Alan Cumming, same thing–great training, excellent vocal control, beautiful, present, dimpled.

Here, he’s doing the whisper-singing technique of protecting his voice, which tells me his vocal folds are shot. But I think it’s the mettle that keeps us watching.

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Today’s Thankful Thursday is not much different than any other Thankful Thursday, only I am slightly wracked with guilt due to yesterday’s rant, hence this Thursday’s title (let the song-referencing contest begin!)

grateful for:

the crates of squash stacked high in the fields of Hadley (while many farms have suffered due to incredible amounts of rain on top of the flooding from Hurricane Irene, some of Hadley, Amherst, and Hatfield’s crops look okay; some not; Vermont got hammered)

fields of pumpkins

Nina Simone

Ewan McGregor (if you’ve seen much of Ewan McGregor’s ouevre, you know he appears buck naked in several films, not the least of which are Velvet Goldmine, The Pillow Book, and Young Adam)

Ewan McGregor naked


when I can write a decent poem or at least string some interesting words together in an interesting way


my kids

not experiencing the news

early bedtime (before or by 11 pm)

the small card of this image that sits on my desk. I have had it for 28 years or so. It’s been with me for so long and I love it so much, but it’s faded and banged up with creases. I’d like a copy of it again and I’ve found it on google images with much maneuvering. I just can’t manage to track it down beyond a particular blog post, in German, from Germany. I know the painting is by Almut Gernhardt and I think it’s from a book called “Twelve Pretty Cat Paintings.”

kitty kitty

All of the serendipitous things that happened this week, like when I posted about quisling and as I was typing up my post, typing the word puzzling, I overheard Hubby on a business call to Belgium and he was saying the word puzzling and the next day on the A Word a Day, the word was quisling

almost never knowing when to use italics, boldface, or quotation marks in my posts when I am pointing out specific words. I love this so much!

how easily one can italicize and boldface in writing on a computer

Jeff Tweedy’s take on serendipity: people with broken hearts find things that reflect their broken hearts (okay, so I’m using it slightly out-of-context, but not really) (thanks to alpha dog for sending me the link to that particular interview)

the aforementioned (in yesterday’s post) Utz Red Hot potato chips. I love them very much and yet they are very hard to come by, so much so that a year or so ago, I ordered a case of them. Naturally, they made me sick, and I haven’t ordered them since. I’m grateful that they aren’t available in the stores around here, but I’d probably be grateful if they were. If you go to the Utz website, a darling cartoon-child will try to sell you Utz chips by reaching into her bag of chips and munching them right before your eyes!

the incredibly long period of my life in which I never experienced tinnitus

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