Mailbag: The Media Edition (Part One)

It's no secret that I like to consume things. My favorites include (i) carrots; (ii) peas; (iii) apple-pear medley; and (iv) media. Being that I am more in touch with the national zeitgeist than the average baby blogger, I thought it would be a good idea to post a few top ten lists for the summer. But then I started getting questions from my loyal fans. Lucy, they beg, tells us what to watch! Lucy, tell us what to read! Lucy, tell us what to listen to! Lucy, tell us what to do! So rather than doing tedious top ten lists, I figured I'd just answer my fan mail directly. I meant to get this done earlier today, but as you can probably see, I had a long day cleaning the house (see above) and tidying up our pantry (see below).

Lucy, what is on your reading list this summer? I'm really struggling with what I should be picking up. Can you help me? Michiko K., New York, New York.

Well, Michiko, this is a great summer for reading. There are at least five novels on my must read list (and three of them are being published in August).

First up is Thomas Pynchon's latest, Inherent Vice. Anytime Thomas Pynchon publishes something, it's an event. Inherent Vice is the story of Doc Sportello and the kidnapping of a billionaire land developer at the tail end of the 1960s. Sound formulaic to you? Me too. But Pynchon has built up enough goodwill for me to trust him on this one. I can't say this about too many people -- in fact, I only just started trusting mommy last week. But she's on thin ice. Inherent Vice will be published on August 4.

Next up is Nobody Move: A Novel by Denis Johnson. This noirish romp is filled with cons, scams, grifts, and guns. Reminds me of afternoons with daddy! For those of you who don't know, Denis Johnson wrote Tree of Smoke and the stupendous Jesus' Son. You should definitely check this out. It's available now.

I just found out about this one the other day. Richard Russo is among my favorite writers and is a master at capturing small town America. Not much is known about That Old Cape Magic at this point. I don't really think that matters. I'm sure Russo will deliver. That Old Cape Magic is due on August 4.

Next, I'd like to let you know about a little book called Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them by Steve Milloy. I think the title says it all. I won't spoil much of this book for you, because I really do recommend that you read it and think about it on its own. And then go pour some oil on a duck. Or burn a tire. Green Hell is in bookstores now.


Last, but certainly not least, is Pat Conroy's new novel, South of Broad. This book looks to continue Conroy's patented formula of characters with big secrets and big friendships that transcend decades. Sure, this might be a retread of territory already explored in Beach Music, but, in this humble little baby's opinion, no one can describe a sunset like Pat Conroy. Except maybe G.K. Chesterton. South of Broad is due on August 11.

I'll be back in the next few days with some recommendations for some movies and some tunes that will serve you well over this coming summer. Well, to be totally honest, I won't be recommending music. That's Bailey's territory, and I don't want to step on her toes. She's the real expert on that stuff. And she should be, after all the years she spent touring with the Steve Miller Band. We'll see if I can convince her to guest-blog. See you soon.

Happy Memorial Day!!!

Happy birthday, Mommy!

I'm not sure I really care for this Mother's Day/birthday double whammy in May. It puts a lot of pressure on me to come up with two great gift ideas within the span of a few weeks. So I spent hours scouring the internet to find something just right. Frankly, I don't have a lot of experience with gifts. I know what I would want, but I think my mommy needs something classy. Something that shows the world what a great mommy she is. Something that will further separate her from all of the shrill and overbearing mommies out there. Let's face it. My mommy is already heads and tails above these harpies. She lets me explore. She lets me play with my doggy. She lets me pull her hair. She laughs when I spit food on her. She lets me play outside sometimes. She takes me for walks. She lets me climb on her. Most mommies wouldn't do this. No, they'd be too busy crushing my spirit with their "rules" and their mocha lattes. So, after days and days of searching, I finally found the perfect gift:

I love you, Mommy!

We are unimpressed

As many of my loyal readers know, I recently had a falling out with Ghost Frog, my then-favorite stuffed animal. Since that time, I have had a number of inquiries from various stuffed animals across the globe. It seems that they all want to be my new best friend. Initially, I was annoyed that so many stuffed animals were so desperate for a shred of my affection. But then I talked it it over with Bailey (who has been a rock throughout this whole Ghost Frog ordeal), and she encouraged me to at least meet some of these wayward stuffed animals. So I accepted a few applications and narrowed down potential new best friends to a lucky handful.

What followed was a comical audition process that revealed each of my selected stuffed animals' personality quirks and foibles. After hours of deliberation, Bailey and I settled on a top six. I've reproduced their head shots below, along with each candidates strengths and weaknesses.

Candidate # 1: Gille the Giraffe

Gillie was a dark horse going into the competition, but really wowed us with his acoustic performance of Rage Against the Machine's smash hit "Wake Up". Still, there was something that we didn't really like about Gillie. It took us a while to pin it down, but it finally hit me last night: Gillie's legs are vastly disproportionate to the rest of his body. It's a bit creepy. It's like someone decided to put Nicole Ritchie's torso on Kirstie Alley's twinkie-filled legs. I just can't look at something that weird day in and day out.

Contestant # 2: Boris the Frog

Boris is definitely colorful and I like color. As Bailey is colorblind, she was not impressed with Boris one bit. Color aside, Boris didn't have a lot going for him. His eyes darted around a lot, and he refused to answer simple questions like "Where are you from?" and "What's your favorite football team?" Instead, he just wanted to talk Bernie Madoff, the Illuminati, and what this all meant for the U.S. steel industry. When I politely dismissed him, he asked me to borrow twenty dollars for his bus ride home. I refused. "Whatever, man," he said.

Contestant #3: My Pet Monster

Look, I love retro stuff as much as the next baby. Anyone remember M.A.S.K.? Dino-Saucers? Thudercats? Snorks? They're all great in my memory, but nearly every kids show in the 80s sucked. Period. They were just extended toy commercials with no real substance. So it looks like My Pet Monster is trying to parlay the recent wave of 80s-nostalgia into winning my friendship. I think Bailey put it best when she said: "The 80s were only cool in the 90s. And even then, they weren't as cool as the 70s." When I repeated this to My Pet Monster (whose real name turns out to be Mort Goldstein, by the way), he just looked down and meekly said "Thanks for your time."

Contestant #4: Bozo the Pony



I'm going to be totally honest with you. I just simply couldn't get past the fact that this pony was wearing pants. I don't even remember the interview (though Bailey tells me that Bozo has an interesting outlook on euthanasia), all I remember is thinking "Why is this pony wearing pants? Is this a joke? And why would a pony choose to wear pants that makes it look like a ladybug?" The substance of Bozo's interview is neither here nor there. I simply don't want a stuffed animal with a personality disorder.

Contestant # 5: Man-Cow
Man-Cow just didn't excite me. I want my stuffed animals to be whimsical and colorful. I don't count anthropromorphizing (is that a word?) a cow as whimsical. It is unoriginal and boring. I told Man-Cow as much, and he had the nerve to say that I lacked vision. It was at this point that Bailey started to growl at Man-Cow, who quickly got the point that he was no longer welcome.

Contestant # 6: Nathaniel the Monkey

Nathaniel was the total package. Both Bailey and I were sold the moment Nathaniel walked in the door. He had charisma. He had charm. He had mystique. He had us at the edge of our seats. We offered him the job on the spot. To celebrate, Bailey and I proposed that we throw some steaks on the grill. Then he uttered the most horrible words I've ever heard: "I'm a vegetarian." Bailey's back stiffened and she curled back her lips, exposing her teeth. I immediately realized that we'd been had. Pieces started falling into place. The greasy hair. The facial hair. His non-conformist way of dressing that was strangely conformist. Nathaniel was a hippie! Before I could stop her, Bailey was at Nathaniel's throat, growling and snapping.

"No Bailey!" I shouted. "It's not worth it!"

But Bailey wouldn't stop. It took seven people to pull Bailey away. Nathaniel is now buried in a shallow, unmarked grave in our backyard.

So the audition process is over. There will be no new stuffed best friend. It's just Bailey and me. And that's perfectly fine with me. Bailey is sort of like a big stuffed animal anyway. A big, hippie-devouring stuffed animal. What more could a little girl want?

Times They Are A-Changin'

You've probably noticed the changes around here. I wanted to take a moment and explain the reasons for the format change. I also wanted to show you my new hideout (see above). Anyway, it turns out that my mom doesn't like clowns. Not even when they are puking rainbows. In fact, she not only doesn't like them. She's petrified of them. So, it will come as no surprise to you that she didn't much care for this completely awesome and hilarious picture:

So, for Mother's Day, I decided to do a little upgrading. No more clowns puking rainbows here. I also decided to get rid of that boring white background. I replaced it with a color scheme that I know my mom will love (her favorite color is, obviously, green). I did all of this because my mom does so much for me. She feeds me. She clothes me. She takes me places. She lets me play with my doggy. She laughs at me. She screams at me when I misbehave. She makes my bed. She buys me toys. In short, she is awesome. So, to thank her, I will never again post a picture of a clown on this blog. After today, that is.

Yikes. That last one even freaks me out. *shudder*

Today was a big day

I am 1/2 year old today. I've been around 180 days (or thereabouts). Six months. The Big Point-Five. I've gotta tell you, my age is really hitting me -- how did I let time go by so fast? Is this what a mid-life crisis feels like? Still, I can't help but look back and be pretty pleased with everything I've learned. In my six months here, I've learned to yell. I've learned to crawl. I've learned to eat solid food (see below).

I've learned to hold grudges. I've learned to sit up (sort of). I've learned to laugh. I've learned to hold things. I've learned that I want an iPhone. I've learned that rolling over is fun. I've learned about depth perception. I've learned to sleep through the night. I've learned to insult others. I've learned that I like duckies (see below).

I've learned that I like to take baths. I've learned that the Notre Dame football team's success hinges not on Jimmy Clausen, but on the development of a sound run game and a stout defensive line. I've learned that bookies only respond to violence. I've learned that I don't particularly like hippies. I've learned that reading is fun. I've learned that my dad is funny. I've learned that my mom enjoys cleaning up after me. I've learned that I sort of like Baby Einstein. I've learned that the most interesting toy around is always the one that (i) I'm not supposed to have and (ii) isn't a toy. I've learned that man is truly the most dangerous game. I've learned that stuffed animals are good to hang out with occasionally, but they are not to be trusted. I've learned that sneezes are funny. I've learned that my doggy is funny (see below).

I've learned that pajamas mean it's time to sleep. I've learned that bibs mean it's time to eat. I've learned that sitting in my jumperoo means it's time to have fun. I've learned that when dad puts on a tie, it's time for him to leave. I've learned that when mommy drinks, it's because of me. I've learned that it isn't good to roll off the bed. I've learned that I like papaya. I've learned that I like squash. I've learned that peas are only OK. I've learned to hold my own bottle. I've learned that Cormac McCarthy is a really, really good writer. I've learned that John Grisham is not. I've learned that lunging forward is a viable form of human locomotion. I've learned that splashing is a pretty good time. I've learned that shots are not. I've learned that grass is pretty fun to crawl on. I've learned that tile is too. I've learned to drink water. I've learned that I can puke and someone will clean it up for me. I've learned that it's fun to pull mommy's hair. I've learned that it's fun to bite daddy when he's not paying attention. I've learned that the more expensive something is, the more I want to eat it. I've learned that adults will willingly trade in their dignity just to see me smile. I've learned that decorating cookies is a great way to pass an afternoon (see below).

I've learned that I can hit my head off of stuff and not cry. I've learned that balance and gravity are enemies waging some sort of horrible war inside of me, but that balance has been been winning more often than not in the last few weeks. I've learned that I can make sounds other than screaming. I've learned that the best band in America is the Drive-By Truckers. I've learned that it is perfectly OK to enjoy schadenfreude. I've learned that I started off really small (see below), but I have grown exponentially more powerful since.