British Invasion

Sorry to not have this up sooner. It's been an eventful week. But the next Bach is imminent, so time for me to get the lead out!!

As I've lamented, I missed the premier of The Bachelor due to some renovation-induced chaos. So I'm a bit behind the curve and may not have all the information necessary to identify the crazies yet. Luckily, when it comes to Bach contenders, in most cases it doesn't take more than a brief first impression.

First of all, let me say right off the bat: I like Matt. Admittedly it's probably the accent. It's hard to sound cheesy when you're a Brit. But I sensed an appealingly snarky sense of humor when the recap from the week before shows Matt holding up a pair of underwear previously slipped his way as he says, "I don't care what country you're from, that is not cool." I further see his flippant comments are going to provide ongoing entertainment when he says with a wink, "It's the first time I've been to a fashion show, and it's the first time I've dated 8 women at one time." Matt, you dog. (So much more refreshing than insincere romanticism.)

I don't have much to say about the fashion show except that Holly should have skipped the moonwalk. It's hard to be sexy in stocking feet.

Michelle P kicked off what would soon turn out to be an evening of song with a cabaret-style ditty. Complete with exaggerated, self-aware, show-tune type facial expression. All of a sudden she looks like Jack MacFarland doing his best Brit-Brit impression, and I'm mortified.

Again, having missed the first episode, I was feeling behind the curve, but my first impression of Robin, the Advertising Coordinator, was that I was going to love hating her. First of all, I'm sure her career is skyrocketing from Holland, Michigan - the advertising capital of the world (I know I'm being snobby, but that's what watching The Bachelor is about). Second of all, she pulled one of those click, click sound effect maneuvers with her mouth and combo swivel head tilt that told me she needs help (I can't think of a better description of this mannerism - but I feel like I've seen it mocked on an SNL skit. Does anyone know what I'm talking about? It's driving me crazy that I can't remember this character)...

Ashlee is a wing nut. and I love how she dances around right in front of everyone literally drowning out Matt's speech about how it's too bad he can only give one rose. I see it's taking every ounce of her strength not to start chanting "nanny nanny nah-nah!".

Moving on to the casino date, several of the ladies prove that an IQ test was not part of the entrance requirement as they butcher the English language. Kelly comments, "There is other girls here who want to get to know him," while Shayne points out, "You have 20 other girls eyeing for your attention.".

Speaking of Shayne, I'm so happy to see that Matt has no time for her drama as he slaps her with, "Everyone else is putting up with [the awkwardness of being one of 20 girls dating me], and you're the only one with the issue." Shayne - he's a Brit! They don't find temper tantrums cute. Take it down a notch, girl...

Chelsea may have ended up with the rose, but I sense this may be nothing more than a fleeting, curious dalliance with American trash for our randy Brit. Chelsea's dress looked like a cross between what a cocktail waitress would wear at the Bada Bing and a figure skating costume from the 80s. Already looking like someone who knows how to work the register at the Dairy Queen, she then completes the picture with this classic phrase, "I do great things, but it's hard to share them with nobody but yourself." Indeed.

Some additional (shallow) comments/observations:

• I love Erin S simply becuase she's a hot dog vendor.
• Shayne's hair at the cocktail party makes her look like Elisha Cuthbert as a bordello worker. I sense she and her Agent came up with a list of looks that will demonstrate her acting versatility over the course of the season. Can't wait to see her (slutty) merchant ivory get up.
  
• Robin might be this season's premier psycho. Or it might be lap-dancing Marshana. Either way, I think they'll both be fun.
• Carri is a "Church Marketer". Who pays her salary? What would Jesus have on his business cards?
  
• I love Amanda because she gets stress hiccups. Hilarious!

Of course, I can not let pass without comment the most embarrassing moment of the of the show (possibly of the season - can't say). Carri decides she must continue the talent show parade and while sitting not 12 inches from Matt who is trapped by the edge of a mysteriously small love seat, she opens her mouth and lets her opera singing pipes do their thing. But the song selection just puts me over the edge. Summer time and the livin is easy!? Oh the humanity...

Finally, it's time for the rose ceremony. Not yet emotionally attached to any of these girls, I found it pretty uneventful (except for Amanda's hiccups. Adorable). Chris comes in to remind us it's the final rose and I remember how useless he is, and how much I've missed him.

Erin H get the boot and tries to give our Brit a European-style double sided kiss, but turns her head weirdly so he ends up kissing her hair. Awkward!

Ending on a high point, we're treated to a moment of psycho drama after Michelle P emphatically implores Matt to seek out the good. She then goes (tearfully) on and on about how much she misses her cat who is the love of her life. As my friend J pointed out, "At that moment I flashed forward and saw many, many more cats in her future." Couldn't have said it better myself...

Chaos is dangerous

Not only did I miss The Bachelor: London Calling premier episode last week, I didn't even realize I missed it until a couple of nights ago.

Let's blame it on the fact that my kitchen and dining area looked like this for most of last week:


Luckily, I caught tonight's episode and will have comments posted shortly. Stay tuned...

Anniversary

My surgery was one year ago today. I can hardly believe it. It's funny how anniversaries can bring everything right back. The weather feels the same, the sunlight feels the same - it's made me remember how scared I was. I wish I could go back and tell that girl that brain surgery is no big deal. Just do what they tell you and before you know it, it's over.

To alleviate some of my anxiety, I interviewed a lot of brain surgery patients in the weeks leading up to my procedure. One of the things they all advised me was that I would feel much better after the first three months, and I would think I was back to normal after six. But at one year it would be as though a veil had been lifted and then I would remember what normal is.

Well, I believe that I will miss this epiphanal experience as my body is far from normal at this point. Something tells me another epiphany is right around the corner...

Every room needs a focal point

New Yorkers know full well, and the rest of you may have heard that there was a devastating construction accident here in New York over the weekend. A crane collapsed and fell across a city block and a half, leaving death and destruction in its path. The kind of freak accident we don't like to think about since most of us walk in blissful ignorance under massive overhead construction projects on a daily basis.

So let me first say that both Terry and I understand the depths of this tragedy.

Be that as it may, you can tell we're in the midst of a kitchen renovation. When Terry saw this picture on the news last night he said, "Oh. That's a Wolf range. Nice."

No comment on the I-beam that I read in the Times today had been catapulted into the air by the falling crane and hurled more than a football field’s length through the sky. It shot like a spear through the roof of a town house on the next block, then down through four floors and a brick wall. It ended up lodged in the concrete floor of the basement of a town house next door, its top half in the kitchen on the first floor, and as further reported by the Times, "just inches from a microwave oven and a stainless steel Wolf range."

I'm still here!

Are you?

I can't believe it's been so long since I posted something. It's because I've been working a lot. It's not that I don't have time to write - I'm a night owl, and could certainly write into the wee hours - it's just that nothing interesting is happening to me because I'm usually in the office. No inspiration...

This past weekend I managed not to do any work at all, but I did have to attend TWELVE HOURS of birthing class over two days. Seriously. Twelve hours. 14 year olds give birth in locker rooms and go back to class. What could possibly be on the agenda that takes 12 hours to explain? About 1 1/2 hours of it was useful. Really all I wanted to know was 1. when do I go to the hospital and 2. when should I get the epidural.

The remaining 10 1/2 hours involved a lot of "learning exercises" that I found ridiculous. For example, they made us hold ice cubes in our bare hands to create discomfort and had us try various distraction techniques. Of course then we had to share our thoughts out loud with the group. When the instructor asked us to share what we "trust about childbirth" I felt like saying, "Well, I trust that it's going to hurt more than holding an ice cube. Can we speed this up?"

After the first "hold the ice cube" exercise, when the teacher asked us all how we had coped with it, one guy said, "Well, I tried talking to the ice cube. I told it soon it would melt and I wouldn't feel it." Teacher: "Oh, that's excellent. How could you help your wife apply that during labor?" "Well, we could talk to her cervix." I did not belong in this class.

Saving grace? The class was held in a building across the street from one of my favorite restaurants in New York: Artisanal. Fondue for lunch. Now cheese I can talk to...

Milestones

1. My haircutter told me at my last appointment that my hair is now even on both sides, and he no longer has to cut one side differently to camouflage an inconsistency. He was going to pop some champagne, but alas, no bubbly for me in my condition. (By the way, didn't it take forever to grow out my hair!? No one could tell there was any difference for some time now, but there was. The texture and density were different. Apparently it takes a while for blood supply to return to the follicles so they begin to function normally again. Who knew? Turns out my follicles were more traumatized than I was.)

2. I just drove on the highway for the first time this past weekend. I didn't feel entirely comfortable because turning my head from side to side still triggers the vertigo sensation, so switching lanes is a little unsettling. But it really was time - and it went fine. But if you see me on the roads in a little silver jetta - may want to keep your distance.

3. I cooked something last night. Terry is still in Argentina and I've already finished the package of English Muffins that was in the freezer (I've been getting home from work way too late to have the patience to wait for takeout), so I actually resorted to making something all by myself. Mac n Cheese with tuna and peas. I don't know if you would count this as cooking, but I do since I combined ingredients that didn't originally come together. Plus I had to use the stove top and several kitchen gadgets such as a slotted spoon, a can opener and a collander. Consider how desperate I am: last week I was still hungry after finishing some doggy bag chicken so I topped it off with three spoonfuls of chunky peanutbutter.

4. Terry has ordered the range for the kitchen. There is no turning back. After torturing for several months about whether the love of his life was a Thermador, a Blue Star or an American Range, he went with the American Range. They start ripping out our kitchen on March 10th. Seriously, could I have timed this worse? Taking chaos in stride is going to be an early life lesson for Baby Voltz. Here's a picture of the range. We might include this picture on the birth announcements.

Crazy Like a Fox

I've written before about my affection for the New York crazies in general, and I've talked about one of my favorites, The Naked Cowboy. Turns out he's suing Mars for $6 million. Check out this article in the Journal explaining the situation. Basically, Mars used his likeness in a Times Square ad that attempts to draw people into the Hershey Store there. From what I've heard, the ad has already been taken down. Let's see if they are forced to pay up...

Guest Post From Argentina

While my pregnant wife is hanging around Starbucks waiting for a wink from her fantasy barista, I am riding horses and taking boat trips to have lunch and drink caipirinhas on a private island.

Preggers can't be choosers

At not quite 7 months pregnant, I am suffering from fashion famine. I keep wearing the same five outfits over and over. And with all the cute Spring lines in the stores, I just feel more huge than ever.

So I think it must have been the fact that the 19 year old part time worker behind the Starbucks counter couldn't see my belly - it being obscured by the register - that made this conversation possible. But since it's been at least 6 months since I've felt even remotely cute, I'll take what I can get...

"Yo, that haircut is hot."
"Thank you."
"Seriously. I don't think I've ever seen that hair on a real girl before."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it looks like a picture you'd see, you know, like on a model, but I've never seen it in real life."
"Oh. Thanks."
"You should always keep it like that. I hope your boyfriend likes that hairstyle."
"Well, yes, my husband likes it."
"Oh. That's cool."

I think I was very close to free lattes for at least the rest of February and possibly one dutch movie date before I mentioned the husband. Who's in Argentina for two weeks, by the way. So maybe I'll hang around Starbucks tomorrow for fun...

What on earth am I going to do this Sunday?

I just can't let it go. I've been keeping all the sports sections from the newspapers this week. I bought The Daily News (which I never read) on Monday because they had a special edition 40 page Super Bowl section. I will savor every minute of the season's last Inside the NFL which will be on HBO tonight. I can't wait for this weekend when I have the time to watch the game again - which I may never erase off TiVO. I am totally smitten with this team of mine and I don't want to face the fact that this unfathomable season is over.

Indulge me one more time. I promise to find another topic to fixate on for upcoming posts (a kitchen renovation or the state of denial I'm in about a child coming to live with us soon both come to mind).

In the meantime, here are some pictures that I find fun:

Our work here is done...

My mother's sage words brought to life, "Super models don't like losers."

New Yorkers line the Canyon of Heroes

It's so great to see these Giants so excited - even cynical, trash-talking Michael Strahan has his video camera out to capture the day. How cute is that?

Well, as of Monday, I guess we're all undefeated. Can't wait for Week 1...

18 - 1

Manning mania

Trivia: 18 sets of brothers have played in the Super Bowl, but this is the first time for a pair of quarterbacks. Obviously, I'm hoping Eli will repeat Peyton's outcome from last year.

Needless to say, I can't wait for tomorrow's game. The family is coming over. My brother and I have watched all the playoff games together, so we can't break the karma. I'll continue to wear 11 and Brendan will wear 10. We're a little superstitious.

I didn't write about it before because I've been busy at work - not a lot of free time for hobby writing - but the NFC Championship Game was a total blast. My family was in Montauk for the holiday weekend, and we watched the game from The Montauket. I don't know if any of you know that place - it's a local bar on the South Fork. It's very hard to find and it's patrons are locals. Not exactly the usual Hamptons scene - no investment bankers, or trophy wives - just fishermen, firemen and off the wall local characters. The place has been there forever and I just love the completely unpretentious atmosphere. Perfect place to watch a Giants game.

Living up to its reputation, the place was filled with some colorful characters. My two favorites were 1. a guy who had tied a bar of soap on a string around his neck. His friends made him lick it everytime he cursed and 2. a guy whom we had seen the night before at another local bar - he was drunk then and was still drunk now. He was spewing language like you could not believe. At one point my mother told him to watch his mouth. Mistake. He apologized and then glommed onto her and decided the two of them were going to Phoenix together. He also asked her if the Giants won, would she streak across the bar naked with him. Unphased, she replied that she had given that up years ago.

Live entertainment aside, the game was not to be believed. I have never come so close to having multiple heart attacks. This was more than luck - the Giants were amazing, and Eli has finally shown all the doubters he really is a Manning. It was so exciting and I just can't even believe we're here. Here are some pictures from The Montauket.

Clearly, this is one classy joint.

Ready for some serious cheering.

Number 72 is the crazy guy with the foul language who wants to take my mom to Phoenix. In this picture he's talking to her while she patiently endures his rants. She taught emotionally distrubed children for 30 years in the New York City Public School system. She handled this guy just fine.

My two sister in laws and my mom are obviously only there because my brother and I dragged them. They try to pretend they know what's going on with the game...


...but by the end even they are caught up in Giants mania.

Here Brendan and I are - praying during the last regular time field goal attempt by Tynes. This one ended in tears.


Guardedly happy when the Giants pull off an interception during overtime. (I look a little manic - don't I?)

Slightly in shock after Tynes is finally successful. On to Phoenix...

Narcissism in action

This is an old story by now, so undoubtedly, some of you have already heard this one. But it's fascinating and creepy, so I'm sharing for those that missed it.

A couple in England was forced to have their marriage annulled after discovering that they were twins! Yikes!

They had been separated at birth and each raised in adoptive families. They ended up meeting later in life. In a true demonstration that we're all in love with ourselves, they fell head over heels and married. ("You're so attractive." "No - YOU'RE so attractive...")

Yuck.

Here's the full story as reported by CNN.

There's a recession coming? Let's embark on an expensive renovation...

Being parents to be, it's normal that we're all wrapped up in nesting right now. Normally I'm the only one who cares about home design, but our kitchen project has dragged Terence onto the bandwagon. The lucky thing here is that we care about totally different things when it comes to this renovation, and our individual obsessions ensure that someone is paying attention to all aspects of this project. (By the way, several people have pointed out the unwise decision to kick off this project at this time. It's a game of chicken, and I'm at peace with the fact that I will be giving birth into a construction zone.)

Terry is the chef in our relationship. I think I've informed you all of this already, but to underscore the point I'll repeat that I have cooked exactly two dishes since I started dating Terry in 1995. I made Guinness based chili for the 1997 Super Bowl and a kick-a#$ lasagna from the Marcella Hazan cookbook for a 2007 holiday potluck gathering at the office. Twice in thirteen years. So perhaps it's my lack of experience that keeps making me call the "oven" a "stove". Terry corrects me with a combination of amusement and concern. Come on. Like he doesn't know what I mean. They're attached for the love of God...

God bless him, Terry has researched all the appliance choices for hours upon hours. He knows every detail about every feature available. Not understanding anything about the advanced functionality of a particular model, I almost wouldn't approve one of his choices because there was a 20 minute period where I thought the knobs only came in blue (you can buy a conversion kit for black or stainless. Design crisis averted.)

I care obsessively about the really important things like the hardware and the backsplash (which is GORGEOUS). Terry felt I was spending too much time comparing materials here - but I reminded him the backsplash will be the signature of the entire room. He rolled his eyes. (Our designer agrees with me, by the way. He felt my choice took the whole project "up to a new level.")

As for his obsession, after changing his mind several times, Terence has finally settled on the oven/stove he wants for our new kitchen. He's in absolute love because it has a ceramic broiler and some ridiculous amount of something called "BTUs". We have visited it on several occasions in multiple stores over the past month. Two weekends ago, we visited it twice on the same day in two different stores. In that same day I also dragged Terence to a Restoration Hardware, Pottery Barn Kids, Calypso Home and Calypso Home Kids. We were exhausted by the end of the day - but not as tired as this guy waiting for the A train with me. He was snoring loudly - on my hearing side.

Anniversary

It was exactly one year ago today that I tried to jam a quick doctor's appointment in before a conference call and out of the clear blue was told I had a brain tumor. After a few moments of genuine confusion, it sunk in a little and I actually started laughing. I was clearly in shock - although it was a little funny when you consider the tetanus shot story. It was a pretty dramatic start to the year (I skipped the conference call, by the way).

Yes, 2007 was an intense year to say the least. And some of you only know the half of it. It's time to fess up: I've been keeping a secret. Any of you who have seen me recently already know. As for the rest of you, click here.

I've never been so happy to see a grown man cry...

I admit now that I didn't have enough faith. I never thought we'd be here. I did not expect to see the Giants become one half of the NFC Championship match up. But here we are - on our way to Green Bay.

Not only did we beat Dallas tonight in an amazing nail biter of a game that literally could have gone either way until the final nine seconds, but we actually made Terrell Owens cry. I kid you not - in case you missed it, he actually cried at the press conference following the game. There, there. It's ok, TO. You're on vacation. Go enjoy your millions in the off season.

My brother, Brendan, and I watched the game at his place, and neither one of us could believe what happened. After the game was over, we rewound the DVR and re-watched the final four minutes just to be sure. Here's a picture of us after the win.

If anyone wants to watch the Championship game with us, we'll be at The Montauket next week. Join us there. Unless you're a cheese head. In which case - better bring some tissues.

(Side note: This is a switch. Peyton's done before Eli?)

A love hate relationship

Sometimes I love him so much I can hardly stand it. Sometimes he disappoints me to the degree that I wish he'd just get out of my life forever. I'm speaking of Eli Manning, of course. And today I love him.

Let's see how I feel next Sunday at about 7:00 pm. But for now, I'm thrilled that there even is a next Sunday.

In case you haven't heard by now, the Giants beat the Bucs yesterday and won their first playoff game since 2000. It was Eli's very first playoff win since being drafted, in fact, hopefully laying some demons to rest. Next week we play the Cowboys - and here's something that may surprise you: it will be the very first time the Giants play Dallas in the post season. Ever. Weird - huh?

This past week I was discussing the upcoming game with a colleague who asked about my weekend plans. I explained that I had all but written my team off due to an abysmal showing in the second part of the season, but now I had some hope after seeing how they performed against the Pats. I started to continue, but my colleague stopped me mid-sentence and said, "Joan, let me just interrupt you right there. Gay men just don't care about football. Many before you have tried to engage me in this conversation. I can't go there." I countered that I was a little puzzled by that stance since there were so many exceptionally good looking men in the NFL. "It's a bunch of 300 pound men. Not my thing." Still not accepting this, I said, "Well, they're not all that way. The quarterbacks and receivers, for example are very svelte. Look at Tom Brady." I was stopped dead in my tracks with a wave of the hand and a simple statement that I could find no fault with, and indeed, have myself invoked in many situations: "Yes. Well, I just don't have time to sift through all that riff-raff." Say no more...

A picture of my brother and I watching yesterday's game at my mom's house (I went old school with Simms - I felt we could use a little 1986):

Advertising Loses a Legend

It's been a while since I posted an obit, but here's one that affected me.

Advertising is a business full of larger than life legends, and this past weekend we lost one of our most revered. I met Mr. Dusenberry in an airport once - introduced by a mutual colleague - and was totally star-struck. Even if you've never heard of him before, no doubt, you've been in contact with his award-winning work.

His obituary as reported in AdAge:

NEW YORK (AdAge.com) -- Phil Dusenberry, the famed BBDO creative known for campaigns such as GE's "We Bring Good Things to Life" and Pepsi's "The Choice of a New Generation," died at his Manhattan home Saturday, Dec. 29, after a battle with lung cancer. He was 71 years old.

The son of a cab driver, Philip B. Dusenberry attended Emory & Henry College, Virginia, on an athletic scholarship. He left after the athletic program was canceled and dabbled in radio before landing at BBDO in 1962, where he launched a career as a creative.

After his initial seven-year stint as a copywriter, Mr. Dusenberry left BBDO to start his own shop, Dusenberry Ruriani & Kornhauser. The business didn't take off with the gusto he had hoped, and Mr. Dusenberry rejoined BBDO in 1977 as an associate creative director. Within the next decade, he was promoted to chairman-chief creative officer of the network's flagship New York office. He was also named vice chairman of BBDO Worldwide and later chairman of BBDO North America, a role he retained until his 2002 retirement from the Omnicom Group agency.

'A gentleman in every respect'
"He was a great person to work for, to work with, and a great friend," recalled Ted Sann, former chairman and chief creative officer at BBDO, New York. "It's really a loss to everybody who knew him, and to the business."

Allen Rosenshine, former chairman-CEO, BBDO Worldwide, remembers Mr. Dusenberry as a consummate gentleman. "He rarely if ever raised his voice in anger, and you never heard a profanity coming from his lips," he said. "Phil was always well-groomed and immaculately dressed. He was a gentleman in every respect.

"Although he was a hard taskmaster in getting the creative product to be as good as it could be, he always shared credit with the people who did the work, and he always celebrated the success of the work," added Mr. Rosenshine. "Being his partner was one of the things I really loved most about being in the business."

Selling with celebrities
With his ability to reel in the most famous names of the day -- Michael J. Fox, Madonna and Michael Jackson among them -- for his clients' ads, Mr. Dusenberry helped set the trend for marketers' inking of lucrative celebrity-endorsement deals. "He pioneered the use of celebrities not just for the sake of having a celebrity, but choosing a celebrity that had relevance ... and that had some emotional attachment to the brand, and was believable as a user of a brand," Mr. Rosenshine said.

He's also credited with changing the creative direction of the agency behemoth, and under his leadership, BBDO was named "Agency of the Year" numerous times by trade publications. Mr. Dusenberry also was known for the role he played on the famed Tuesday Team, whose "Morning in America" commercials helped Ronald Reagan get re-elected in 1984.

Mr. Dusenberry -- named by Advertising Age as one of the century's top 100 advertising people -- published a memoir in 2005: "One Great Insight Is Worth A Thousand Good Ideas." Among the numerous awards and achievements earned over a career spanning five decades, he was a 2003 American Advertising Federation Hall of Fame inductee and in 2007 was inducted into The One Club's Hall of Fame.

Putting Pepsi in popular culture
In an October interview with Ad Age on the eve of his One Club induction, he reminisced about his days on Madison Avenue, saying he was proudest of his work for Pepsi, GE and FedEx. "Those were the accounts I was probably closest to and enjoyed the most."

"Working with Phil produced some of the most enjoyable and rewarding moments in my years at PepsiCo," said Roger Enrico, former chairman-CEO of PepsiCo. "The advertising he did for our brands helped make them icons of popular culture and added significantly to the growth of the PepsiCo enterprise. He was a great ad man and a dear friend."

Until the end, Mr. Dusenberry remained a believer in the holding-company model, citing the "smorgasbord of services" that large marketing organizations can offer as a feature of the business that many clients will always find appealing over smaller, independent shops.

Making 'The Natural'; becoming a legend
His talents ranged far beyond advertising, too. The Brooklyn native and lifelong Yankee fan's screenwriting credits include "The Natural," the classic baseball film starring Robert Redford. His 18-minute documentary film, "Final Journey" became a permanent addition to the Reagan Presidential Library.

"Our industry has lost a legend. BBDO has lost an inspiration. And many of us have lost a friend," said Andrew Robertson, president-CEO, BBDO Worldwide, in a statement. "Those of us who were lucky enough to work with him knew he always wanted more time to make it better. Sadly, he didn't get it this time."

Mr. Dusenberry is survived by wife, Susan; stepson, Ben Procter; daughter-in-law, Ilana Sparrow; brother Harry, and his wife Marcy; brother Joseph; sister, Jean Driscoll, and her husband, Jack; and a large extended family.

A wake will be held Thursday, Jan. 3, from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m., and Friday, Jan. 4, from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m. and 7 p.m. to 9 p.m. at the Frank E. Campbell Funeral Home, 1076 Madison Avenue at 81st Street in Manhattan. A funeral Mass will be held Saturday, Jan. 5, at 1 p.m. at St. Ignatius Loyola, at 980 Park Avenue at 84th Street in Manhattan.

Donations may be made in Mr. Dusenberry's name to the Coalition for the Homeless, 129 Fulton St., New York, NY, 10038, or the St. Jude Children's Cancer Research Hospital, 501 St. Jude Place, Memphis, TN, 38105.

AdWeek Obituary

She eats real food

I went to The Palm for lunch last Friday. Sometimes a girl just needs some fillet and creamed spinach. Guess who was in the booth next to me? Hillary Duff. I could not begin to tell you why she's famous, but I know all the little girls in my family are big fans. My impression: she's cute as a button, eats like a normal person and has great taste in handbags.

She was with her mom and sister - notable since this was the day after those same three had a big enough run in with the paparazzi to make the evening news (not just TMZ - which of course it also made).

Because we were trying not to get kicked out of the restaurant this is mostly a picture of the light fixture, but there you go...

Entrepreneurial spirit: alive and well in the burbs...

I can't remember if I've mentioned this already, but we're renovating our kitchen. Our designer is a former Israeli soldier and we're just a little scared of him. But he's doing his best to keep us on schedule, so I guess we're getting the tough love we've paid for.

Terry and I are both off from work this week and we're torturing ourselves with frustrating kitchen errands to stay in A's good graces. Over the past two days, we have spent a disproportionate number of hours and mental effort attempting to pick out a faucet. We zig zagged all over Long Island from show room to show room and so far the only thing we've accomplished is confirming that we have unreasonably expensive taste. Put us in a room with 237 faucets and we zoom in on the one tucked away in the corner that is the most outrageously overpriced one in the room. The kind of price tag that would make my farm-raised grandfather spin in his grave. Neither one of us can bring ourselves to give in to the urge and just say, "In the grand scheme of the overall budget, it's not that big a deal..." I don't think we can bear the thought of being those people. The people with the cool looking faucet who are in hock up to their eyeballs. So the search continues.

We saw some curious things in our journeys through the suburbs yesterday. My favorite was this duo of stores in Huntington. The first was a themed store I've seen many times before and wondered how on God's earth these businesses stay viable. The picture is a little blurry, but I'm sure you get the idea...


Seconds after passing this treasure trove of bargains, we passed another store almost directly across the street. I can only assume it was launched after exhaustive research - no doubt including a thorough need-gap and SWOT analysis - indicated an open opportunity in the market. The owners of this store seized the day...


Unfortunately, the faucets we like would never be sold in the first store...