Pretty Mercury, happy Papa

The Babeee is a Muse

When in Doubt, Always Choose Laughter is the latest vehicle for my favorite Big Star, known as The Babeee. You can see all his Vines if you search his director's name: Nick Confalone. Click the director's name below and,




if you can't hear sound when the new window opens, click the upper left hand corner. I certainly hope this great work of video art gives you as much pleasure as it does me. And that you'll be inspired to see how director Confalone explores universal themes via The Babeee.

Also: do not neglect to read today's other entry, below. Please post your support for Maman et Papa gifting me an iPhone of my very own. Perhaps once I have one, I too will create Vines.

My very own iPhone

Cher Maman et Papa,

Now that I am 8, it's time to buy me an iPhone of my very own. Please buy the newest version and sign me up for unlimited talk, text and data. I can take it from there. 

After all, I'm posting this entry from Maman's iPhone. 

I have a special place for it in my home.  I keep your phone there when I borrow it!

I'm willing to use AT&T to keep your billing simple. So please go to their corner store to pick up my iPhone today. 

Perhaps better if I go with you so I can choose my own stylish case. 

Love, MM

Vines

Vine is a social medium. Record 6 seconds of looping images and sound. It's a new art form! And notably Vines were featured in their own category at the 2013 TriBecA film festival.


Here are 2 examples of Vines. [Both contain sound; if you don't hear anything, take your cursor to the upper left corner of the visual where a sound icon will appear; if there's an 'X' click it to eliminate it and you'll hear the sounds.] The first is by Viner Nick Confalone, "trying to be a good dad in 6 seconds or less."




one from Tzaddi who "wakes up to experience the exquisite joy--the joy of being Salvador Dali"



There are all sorts of Vines: beautiful, raunchy, funny, serious, with all sorts of topics-- comedy, art and experimental, family, fashion, food, news, special FX, weird, cats, and yes, Dogs. Check them out including my own under the name "Elizabeth Roushanzam"  (I've used Maman's name but most of the Vines are my very own creative work. You can download the Vine app on iPhone or Google Play or read about it by clicking HERE.)

 Enjoy and Create! As always, your pal, Mercury

Blessings on my Birthday

Today is my 8th birthday.  This certificate outlines my lineage for three generations and shows that I am a rainbow mix of red, apricot and brown toy poodles.

As an aside, you, my faithful fans, know of my ultra close friendship with Santa. In pursuing knowledge of my ancestry, I've learned that my biological father and mother also enjoyed a special bond with the Man: note, their names are recorded as Saint Nicholas and Christmas Day.  Sycophantic names, indeed; but one can't choose one's family. As you know, my own abiding friendship with Santa relies on our bond of mutual respect, admiration & liking. (type Santa is the blog search bar to locate entries about our long-term relationship)

In any case, although today is my birthday, I've received no (almost no) presents. I was expecting 8, one to commemorate each year of my life. Since it's still early in the day, I've decided to post my wish list. You still have about 18 shopping hours remaining:

List of 8 possibles for Mercury's birthday gifts, 2013

A doggie cam (to hang on my collar and record events at my eye level)

A flat TV of my very own

A smart phone, iphone preferred but will accept Galaxy

A huge basket of doggie treats

Real doggie ice cream

A bone  pattern QR Tag

A Crypton Dog Earred Mess Mat

A little baby brother or little baby sister, toy or miniature French poodle, preferably red, apricot, brown or white with apricot ears

Pictured here is the one gift I did receive. Maman and Papa presented me with:   

A leather collar with a diamond and platinum charm in the shape of a Mercedes logo. Needless to say, I was dumb-founded when I opened the package. A collar (symbol of oppression), a Mercedes logo (symbol of rapacious capitalism): no food, no toy, no electronics, not even a fashionable t-shirt.

I won't say this is the worst birthday ever. I won't say I'm ungrateful for what I have received this day (food to eat, a place to sleep, a very brief walk). I won't say I'm counting on you, my fans, to resurrect this day from the doldrums to a very happy birthday high.

All I shall say is: joyeux anniversaire to me!

Mercury's Weekends: always a good time

Have you ever wondered what I do with my weekends? You might assume that, like the Dowager Duchess of Downton Abbey, dogs are indifferent to the weekend concept ("What--- is a weekend?" she inquired.) However, such is far from the case.

Week days are when I follow a routine: early to rise, AM walk, breakfast, an Acorn TV (Brit) movie, nap nap nap, PM walk, supper, a Netflix movie, nap nap nap, sleep for the night. Weekends are, by comparison, a whirl of activities. Of which this photo above signifies only a few.

Below you can watch this embedded viddy (don't worry, it's not really "post apocalypse," that's just Maman's little joke). Then follow the links below (Park 1 and Park 2) to catch just a few seconds glimpse of  each of various outdoor pursuits.

Park 1 (always a good time)

Park 2 (take me to your best friend's house)

Later, of a Saturday or Sunday, I may go for a long drive (in my double sun roofed Mercedes--more on that to come), stop by Five Points to shop for ingredients for cocktails and an al fresco meal. And later don my tux for an evening on the town.

In short, weekends are crazy times-- fun-filled, but hectic, a mad dash, a rush of company, community, sporting events and the seemingly ceaseless round of pleasure ! Thank goodness for the week days when I can relax, returning to the simple life that all dogs treasure as their greatest purpose and their absolute right.

My Grandmere's Special Insight

Maman et Papa thrust me into a crate on my very first night in my new home.

It was early November. I'd endured a 13 hour airplane flight (changed in Dallas), pick up at the freight gate at Hartsfield-Jackson, 1 1/2 hour drive from Atlanta to Athens. And believe me, none of it was first class.

Exhausted and terrified describes us all, me, Maman et Papa. I vividly recall that it was still light out when Maman et Papa drew the (flimsy) curtains, plopped me in my crate, stretched out on their comfortable futon and whispered together, waiting for me to fall asleep.

I overheard this exchange: Maman, "animals always go to sleep when it's dark and quiet." Papa, "should we drape a cloth over the crate?" Maman, "too like a bird cage, but be very very quiet and she'll think it's night." So humiliating for all concerned.

Eight years later, my crate has been transformed into a loft. I have a snuggly bed and I've been promised a TV of my very own. My food is served in a (NYC) Museum of Modern Art bowl and my water goblet is Mondrian patterned.

But they say the more things change, the more they stay the same (in my native tongue: plus ca change, plus ca meme chose; Sorry, no French language key board). Grandmere may not be my biggest fan, but she's a realist and we share a bond of common sense that seems to be otherwise lacking in the Lester Roushanzamir clan. Here's the evidence; she clipped this from the Wall Street Journal and mailed it to me:

[it reads: I'd have to say the biggest lie they tell themselves is 'Oh he likes the crate!'...unbelievable.]

How often have I heard that absurd phrase, "Oh, she likes her crate," and how often have I cringed at its rank absurdity. Still, I suppose Maman et Papa mean well.

And admittedly, they shake and serve a good stiff martini.  Please make it a double.