Wednesday, June 26, 2013


When they persisted in questioning Him, He stood up and said to them, "The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her." John 8:7

The Paula Deen "scandal" has now been blown entirely out of proportion, the fuel being thrown on the fire by such paragons of civil speech as Joy Behar, a woman who, if hate speech and offensive language were a measure of worthiness of employment, she'd have been on the bread lines long ago. For her to cast aspersions on anything, real or imagined, that Paula Deen has said in the past is the height of sanctimonious hypocrisy. Likewise other such as the ladies of the talk, Wendy Williams, and all the rest. The only "talk show" folks who haven't piled on were the people at The Chew - all of whom have know Paula Deen and her family for years.

Now let's talk about The Food Network which has profited handsomely over the years from Paula Deen's various successful shows. Really? Really? All y'all are a bunch of lily-livered weinies! And what about those upstanding, courageous folks (not) at Smithfield? When they were involved in a contentious lawsuit and the other side urged Ms. Deen to drop her contract with Smithfield, she refused to do so. Pity that loyalty wasn't returned.

And of course it's bad enough these hypocritical yahoos are dumping on her for language she may have used back in the distant day, they're also bringing up the fact that she kept the news of her diabetes diagnosis to herself. Well hell, I'd keep it to myself as well. That diagnosis is a world shaker! If she chose to take some private time to make her peace with a life-changing medical situation, that's HER business folks.

I think we've all lost our minds in this country. We think that every little thing about every celebrity should be revealed to us as soon as we demand it. What hogwash!

Sunday, June 16, 2013

2013 Daytime Emmy Awards on HLN

To say that this show was a disjointed, appalling and utterly amateurish mess would be gross understatement on my part!

First of all, the show was hosted by three news people - all of whom tried to be amusing with virtually no success. And whyinhell was the show on HLN anyway? What daytime shows does anyone watch THERE? And whose brilliant idea was it to position a red couch on far side of the stage where various uncomfortable people sat to interview people who had just won a Daytime Emmy, people who were in no condition to be coherent! Giada DiLaurentis was wearing a dress on that couch when she interviewed Scott Clifton and Billy Miller after their joint win that left no doubt in anyone's mind that she is a well-endowed woman. And someone needs to tell Rachael Ray that she should not be displaying HER cleavage - it's minimal and it's seriously unattractive.

The production values were disjointed and sloppy - even to the point that when Aisha Tyler opened up the envelope for one award, the card for the wrong category was contained in it! Dear merciful heavens!

It's pretty doggone sad when the "In Memoriam" segment, which was accompanied by something in Italian sung by Il Volo was so poorly planned that the cameraman couldn't figure out that he should be concentrating on the pictures and names of the recently deceased persons, and NOT on the three singers! Bush league, and that's being kind to them.

All in all, it continues to amaze me that people whose job it is to produce television on a regular basis can do such a disgraceful job of producing their own awards shows!

Shame on you!


My father, Gilbert Joseph Miller (1913-1984) was one of six brilliant - and slightly peculiar - children. Guess that goes a long way toward explaining ME!

To give you an idea of my father's somewhat eccentric ways, there is this: In 1958 I bought a house. My father, an electrical engineer, was dissatisfied with the electrical situation in this brand new domicile. Accordingly, he had two additional electrical lines run into the house - a 220 and another 120. He had no intention of ever seeing a short circuit develop on his watch!

Then he proceeded to rewire this just-built house to HIS requirements (and as I have come to realize, he was way ahead of his time in this) with me helping him in his endeavors. This is how I came to be sitting on a stepladder, in my own basement, one Saturday morning, holding two wires. My father casually walked by and commented "It would probably be a good idea if you didn't let those two wires touch. I haven't turned off the main!"

For this and all the many other examples of your humor, your loving care for me and your frequently dry and hilarious commentary on the world through your eyes, I love you and miss you and value your place in my life.