A Time Capsule To Call My Own (Part 2)


Clearly, I was mad about Madonna — but mad enough to save an issue of People?

In the previous post, I opened up what can only be considered my personal time capsule, a set of crates that held objects from my past.  The last post ended with a reference to a list of songs scribbled on a piece of paper . . .

Some of the song names had been crossed out, so I think I must have been able to record them from the radio and onto a cassette — remember those?  The photos on this post should give you an idea of what I listened to, but if you’d like more – here we go: Soft Cell, The Clash, The Ramones, Depeche Mode, Spandau Ballet, Romeo Void,  Stray Cats, Adam & the Ants, Joan Jett, Duran Duran, Lene Lovich, Bananarama, Fun Boy 3 — and so many more.  I walked a fine line between the New Wave and Punk genres, with a definite leaning toward all bands British.

Then there were the letters and cards – so many written words from a time when people actually wrote and mailed letters.  I had to wonder what would possess me to hold on to all of this correspondence and as I reread them, I was struck by the energy and passion of the writers as they – we – were all on the verge of stepping into adulthood, all eager to make a difference, to have an impact on the world.

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Of Super Bowl And Gardening


It’s game day — at last.  If you live in the New York Metro area — as I do — or in New England or Indianapolis, for that matter, Super Bowl madness has reached the saturation point.  Every second of local news coverage is devoted to the teams, the fans, the food — even my local supermarket broke a record for the number of heroes that were ordered for Super Bowl parties.

Don’t get me wrong — I am pulling for the home team.  And I am excited to see the half-time show with Madonna.  Yes, I know she made that remark about loathing hydrangeas, but I’m curious to see what the old material girl (yes, I went there) has in her bag of tricks. 

It’s just that gardeners need their Super day, their media coverage, their competition for the most clever gardening commercials.  I doubt any of that will be happening soon, so I have decided to take matters into my own hands. 

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Hydrangea Hating Madonna Crosses The Line


Photo courtesy of popdust.com.

What’s with Madonna?  I never really asked myself that question because I’ve always been a bit of fan, enjoying her music, relishing the controversy, and admiring her skill at always reinventing herself.  She was my generation’s Lady Gaga.

But now?  Now, she has gone entirely too far – much further than writhing on the floor in a wedding gown at one of the earliest MTV Video Music Awards, much further than the “Sex” book fiasco, much further than her

The presentation is made and . . .

mediocre acting career.  Wait, that last one probably wasn’t much of a stretch.

In case you haven’t seen the video, here is a brief summary.  Madonna was holding court at the Venice Film Festival, sitting behind a table and a live microphone.  A man approached the table and presented her with a giant purple Hydrangea bloom and said, “You are my princess.”  She politely accepted the flower.  As the

. . . the eyes roll.

man walked away, however, she turned to her left (at a person off-camera), and made big, exasperated eyes.  Then she turned right and said, “I absolutely loathe Hydrangeas.”

Really?  Loathe?  I mean who can loathe a plant?  You can certainly loathe, I don’t know, a serial killer, a dictator, maybe even Brussells Sprouts if you had to choose a plant (although, personally, I love them).  I might be tempted to say that I loathe weeds and weeding.  The truth is I enjoy weeding.  And as for the weeds, they can be annoying and tiresome – but I would never say that I loathe them.  In fact, I actually like some of them – but that’s a whole other post.

Beware of empty apologies.

To add insult to injury, she then released a video, “Madonna’s Love Letter to Hydrangeas,” in which she appears to be apologizing to a Hydrangea bouquet.  “You have no idea how many nights I have lost thinking how I hurt you. Words cannot express how sorry I am. To think I may have caused you pain.”  But faster than a ray of light, she throws the bouquet onto the ground, and says, “I’m left with the fact that I still hate Hydrangeas! And I will always hate them!”  Then there is an expletive and a statement that she likes roses.

Huh? 

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