I’m Lame Adventures Woman. I reside and work in New York City where I am a common, modestly paid office drone battling to maintain consciousness while overseeing floor and wall tile retail showroom displays. This is what NYU would prefer one does not do with an illustrious film school degree. That’s me in this blog’s banner shooting out of a cannon across the Central Park Reservoir. Yes, that is The Great Gazoo along for the ride. Flying across the park when no one is looking is what I do in my spare time. I hate that Ann Taylor Loft-type outfit that I’m wearing, but when I asked the graphic designer who created my banner pro bono to make me look more like me, i.e., clad in a black tee shirt, jeans and Jack Purcell sneakers, she said, “That will cost you.” Then, The Voice of Reason inside my head opined in a squeaky cheap tone, “Hey, at least you’re not wearing a dress.”
Essentially, I am an economic downturn motivated humorist. When the economy thrived, I wrote little more than my name on a bar tab. Following the collapse of the economy, my company laid off much of the staff and reduced the wages of those that remain employed by 20%. In response to my radically reduced income, and the scarcity of part time jobs to supplement my lost wages, I have considered one of two paths, weathering this storm in a drunken haze while practicing the Kama Sutra with mammals of various species of my own gender, or applying those watering hole funds towards catching a few films at the New York Film Festival and the occasional Broadway play. I chose the latter; even though that means I was last this sober at age eleven. To fill the significant amount of down time between films and theater, I have commenced writing short humor based on my own true, but often embellished, lame adventures.
Any similarities to persons living or dead mentioned in Lame Adventures is purely intentional, but all names have been changed so no one thus far is too pissed off.
Recurring characters include:
My closest friends:
Milton – my best bud. He considers himself Rhoda to my Mary and Lame Adventures our skewed homage to The Mary Tyler Moore Show.
Albee – my other close bud; a terrific playwright, actor and writing instructor who is the only writing teacher I have ever had in my adult life that’s inspired me, but come to think of it, his is the only writing class I have ever taken in my adult life.
Martini Max – my New Jersey-based oldest and dearest guy-friend; he hopes to be reincarnated as the second coming of Toots Shor.
BatPat – my nature loving best friend since the Carter administration.
Coco – my company’s vixen, tile showroom manager and a Christian Louboutin junkie — the bling to my yang and the wittiest woman I’ve ever known in my life.
(not) Under Ling (anymore) – my quick-witted graphics design buddy, keeper of the radio and another reason why I know “the kids are all right”.
Greg – my dedicated sidekick and a gushing fountain of musical talent as seen on a music video we made in spring 2011:
Elsbeth – my boss, the Wallace to my Grommit.
My former colleagues:
Elaine – our former Marketing Director who shares my enthusiasm for film, theater and comedy, and is now living back in the UK. Boo hoo.
The Quiet Man – the guy that used to sit in the back of the office that generally tuned me out until late in the week when the weekend was in sight. An intensely private person, he is now telecommuting from his home state, something that starts with an m, so out of respect for his privacy, I’ll just say he’s moved home to Mars. We miss him.
Ling – the one, the only, the original graphic designers of graphic designers who was instrumental in making Lame Adventures get off the ground.
My West Coast-based family:
Dovima – my sister.
Axel – my brother.
Sweetpea – my niece.
Herb (with a silent h) – my brother-in-law.
Dad – my dad.
Mean Streak – my long dead childhood dog.
Thurber – the family dog residing with Dovima & Herb (with a silent h).
Published Lame Adventures:
Bag Battle — Humor Press