Still In The Well

First of all, I'd like to start tonight's blog with a bit of a correction. You see, sometimes I don't think I make myself very clear. I was called on this last week in a comment from Stennie, when I said I threw away several packages of empty nylons. The minute I pushed "publish" on that comment, I knew someone was going to burn me. Leave it to Stennie. Of course, I should have said I threw away several empty packages of nylons. I'd say the actual empty nylons were thrown away months ago.

Sunday night's Olympic Update included - well, not included, was - a little blurb about how I was recording an album of clarinet music for Mr M. From his kind comment, I have a feeling Duke got the idea I was actually recording an album of my playing for Mr M. In fact, I was recording an album of clarinet music that belongs to Mr M and was made in the 50s, recording it into mp3 format for the man. Believe me, I don't have the chops to record an album of my own playing for anyone, and would only do it for Mr M if he had done something to seriously piss me off.

OK. Now that that's out of the way, let's get on to something much more important.

Lassie!

Last week I posed the question to the world, is there always a Lassie? We never see Lassie when there's no TV show or movie in front of us. Leading me to believe that 1) there isn't always a Lassie or 2) Lassie is something of a recluse.

Well, imagine my shock and surprise when Sunday evening I turned on the TV, hit the "info" button on the remote control, and saw a program was showing on PBS called, and no, I'm not making this up, "Lassie's Pet Vet." I don't guess I have to tell you that I hit the "1" and the "2" buttons quicker than you could say, "Arf Arf," and saw just what it was all about. And it was all about little segments for pet owners and pet owner wannabes about how pets are the wonderful things that they are. Like we didn't know.

There was a story about a woman who bought a bulldog to ease the pain of losing her husband. And a "man on the street" interview with folks telling us where their pets sleep at night. A surprising number of people sleep with their pets in the bed, which was, although my dogs were allowed just about everywhere in whatever home I was living in at the time, one place I could never cotton to. I used to let Dino, my cousin's Cairn Terrier, sleep in my bed, but that's because he was an unstoppable force and wormed his way in there when I was falling off into dreamland. Then he would commence to rooting up next to me until he had the entire bed and I was hanging onto the mattress by my fingernails. It was endearing, somehow. I don't know how, really, but somehow.

But the big and exciting news about all this is that the program was hosted by some veterinarian, and - Lassie himself (or herself, whatever). There the two of them were, the vet on a chair and Lassie right there beside him, smiling and barking. And looking magnificent, if I may say. And as if the knowledge that there is indeed apparently always a Lassie wasn't enough, the Lassie/vet segments took place outside. In front of a big red barn! So Lassie does live on a farm, and don't tell me it was just a television show set, because I won't believe you. Lassie lives on a farm and I'll fight the first person who tells me otherwise.

I decided to do a little internet research about "Lassie's Pet Vet," and found that Lassie has his own (or her own, whatever) website, lassie.com. The Pet Vet show is featured on the site, as is a tidy history of the doggie, where Lassie is always referred to as "she." Mmm-hmmm. Lassie also seems to have his (or her, whatever) own brand of dog food, which is all natural and probably good for the coat, and I'm guessing contains well water, and the fingers and toes of various villains.

There's a section that announces Lassie appearances, so if that's not a ringing endorsement that there's always a Lassie, I don't know what is. He (she, whatever) was even in Las Vegas several months ago. There's also a link to the Lassie "Pup Club," where kids can download coloring book pages and desktop themes.

There's a media section where we can watch clips from the old TV series, and one even includes everybody's favorite child actress Pamelyn Ferdin. And, in the same clip, a very young-looking Larry Wilcox.

But then, there it is. On the side of the screen, an ad. For the new Lassie movie. And suddenly my hopes became dashed that all this fun and frivolity was just there because there's a Lassie project on the horizon, and so some collie has been brought of the mothball closet to don the Lassie moniker.

I was depressed. So I said, "Fuck it," (sorry, Lassie) and went from lassie.com to lassie.net. And I liked lassie.net a whole lot better.

This is because it has a better history of Lassie, and explains how Lassie is in fact always a boy dog, the first transvestite superstar in Hollywood history. It also mentions that we're now enjoying the ninth generation Lassie, a direct descendant of the original movie Lassie, and so I was just having a ball on lassie.net, and lassie.com can go jump in the lake. Or the well. Because lassie.net tells me there's always a Lassie, and I'm not going anywhere else now that may tell me otherwise.

Lassie.net also features a great picture of Lassie in front of his Mitsubishi Eclipse, and one of him outside on a blanket, as if he's enjoying a little picnic with Timmy and the family. The merchandising section even sells a 16 oz chocolate collie. And I think you'll agree with me when I say it doesn't get any better than that.

So here's to Lassie. Sure, Asta had personality out the wazoo and could do backflips, Rin Tin Tin could run like the wind, Toto was an adorable sweetheart, and Benji showed you didn't have to be purebred to be a star. But Lassie, man. Lassie, the dog that could save Timmy from the well, be a friend to all the kids in the neighborhood, fight off bad men, tend to baby chicks on the farm, and I've no doubt could change the oil in your car and do your taxes without fear of an audit.

Good thing he's always around (or she's, whatever).

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Acrowinners, we have acrowinners. So, what's your favorite day of the week, and why?
- Honorable Mention goes to Mr M, and his, "Tuesday, reaching around my fistula-saturated ass." Lame, schmlame, Mr M, I'm happy when anyone acros.
- Runner-Up goes to DeepFatFriar, and his, "Tuesday - right after Monday, feels slightly amicable." Yep, after Monday, anything is possible.
- And this week's winner is LilyG, with her, "Thursday -- Really, almost, mostly Friday. Saturday's ahoy!" Now, how can you not reward an acro that uses the word "ahoy?" You can't not!
- Thanks to all who played - you've all done very well!