Sunday, 31 March 2013

TV Mania: And a change of heart

--> When I'm right, I'm right... and when I'm wrong -- I try to keep it under the dark cover of night so no one ever sees and I don't have to admit it. Okay, no...when I'm wrong, I'm wrong and I admit it, occasionally....begrudgingly. In this case...I'm wrong. And I'll tell you why.

Let me start off by saying I have never denied the fact that he is an amazing musician. Never once. The cat can play, he knows his shit and he can make the most gorgeous sounds come from his guitar playing. After all, he did carve his niche into Duran's history - and lets face was an important one. If you haven't guessed by now (or even if you have), I am of course speaking of Warren Cuccurullo.

It's never been a secret that I didn't like Warren. For a few reasons I suppose, when he first joined, it was because he wasn't Andy who; at the time when Warren entered the picture; had only just left the band I had grown to love so much. However, I suppose my disdain and indifference for him was no different than my disdain and indifference for Sterling who replaced Roger. They weren't the Taylor boys and in my opinion (at the time) there was just no replacement for the original. I was an impressionable teenager, and these people who replaced the Taylors could never be as wonderful as Andy and Roger!!

But there was more with Warren, he was exceedingly egotistical. He was relatively attractive, with a nice body, and could play guitar. Credit goes where credit was due. And he did play guitar for one of the, if not the biggest band in the 80's. Who wouldn't have an ego, right? But a  little, goes a very long way.

Then of course there was the whole nudity, porn thing. I have NOTHING against nudity or porn. I'm far from a prude, I have watched a porn or two...hundred. No, I don't think it degrades women...but I digress, even for me it was a little too over the top down and dirty.  And a side(s) of him I didn't want to see. I saw it as an extension (pardon the expression) of his ego and his arrogance.

Warren no doubt made some beautiful music with Duran. Absolutely. It's undeniable so quite frankly, I won't even try. Come Undone, Ordinary World, Breath after Breath to name a few.

I'm sure you're wondering where all of this is going. Recently Katy's Kafe did an interview with "TV Mania" Warren and Nick's long gestated spin off project of Duran Duran. In listening to this special kafe I have to admit; much to my surprise; the more I listened to this interview (which was more like listening in on a personal phone conversation than anything else); the more Warren endeared himself to me. Was that possible? Was I beginning to actually *gulp* like Warren as a person? I have to admit, anyone who can make Nick Rhodes laugh that much and that readily and earnestly cannot be that bad.

The mutual admiration society was in full effect during this telephone interview. High praises of each other from both camps. It's very obvious to me that not only do they admire each other, but they enjoyed working with each other, and more over even though they are seemingly opposites, they get along famously.

So, I have a new found respect for Warren Cuccurullo. The porn still creeps me out to no end and likely always will. But the ego seems to have subsided, and Nick has a definite affection for the guy.

One Last Glimpse,


Sunday, 24 March 2013

A letter to myself

Dear Me:

Just a few things really. You've been overly hard on yourself lately. Criticizing every little detail of your life, and as a result you've been kind of a bitch to you and yours. What's up with that? You need to chill there missy moo.

I realize you're disappointed that you're not a size two yet. BUT, and lets be honest here, without some plastic surgery (skin reduction, etc) you're never going to be a size two.  It's just the way of the world. You REALLY don't want to be a size two anyway, you've never been a size two, why start now? Aim your goal a little less lofty kiddo, you'll get there. Set it to little goals and obtain them that way so you're not so discouraged, then when you reach them you set the next set of goals and so forth.

You're trying to push your writing too. Don't do that, you know you won't be happy with it if you do that. It will be a huge waste of your time, so don't bother. It will come. And when it does, just let it flow.

You can't fix everything. This is a bad habit of yours that we've discussed before. Don't kill yourself trying to fix things that cannot be fixed. If they're meant to be fixed, if they're meant to work their shit out, they will. It's not your problem nor is it your fault. You cannot move mountains no matter how hard you try. Let it go and move on.

I don't let you know this as often as I should but, I AM PROUD OF YOU. You're a good person, a good wife, sister, Mother, Aunt , daughter and friend.

Try to remember that.

Love you,

A brief interlude: Lulu

For your ongoing love and support...just a little short love story I did over the last couple of days.
xoxo ~K

He closed his eyes holding his face up to the warmth of the sun. He drew his long legs up to his chest and dug his elongated toes into the soft sand and sighed heavily. His mind drifted to her; of course; her stunning eyes and bright contagious smile. He absentmindedly traced his thumb to his lips where hers had been in an unexpected, passionate kiss not two hours prior.

He'd been shocked at first. Shocked by her kiss, but more over how good it had been, how great her mouth had felt on his, and how most importantly how it had made him feel. And it had made him feel completely electrified and alive. So what then, had he been such a fool and run?

It wasn't like he didn't know her at all. He'd known her almost all his life, as long as he could remember they'd been friends. Best friends. She knew his deepest darkest secrets and fears, and he knew where she'd 'buried all the bodies' as it were. So what was he so afraid of? Maybe it was that he didn't want to lose his best friend in all of this. Maybe he feared things would change so drastically that he wouldn't be able to confide in her the way he once had. But the only person he could think about rushing to tell about how GREAT the kiss he had experienced, was the one he had experienced the kiss with.

Again he sighed. Still thinking about her lips, her kiss, how soft it had been and how right it had felt. He was prolonging his own agony, as well as hers. He smiled softly shaking his head, coming to a stand he dusted his pale jeans off, grabbing his shoes and headed across the beach back to where he'd parked his Jeep.

He slid his long frame into the drivers seat and slid the key into the ignition. He turned the key and expected the engine to rev to life. He got nothing. “DAMMIT!” he exclaimed slamming his hand down on the steering wheel. He cursed again as he tried once more. Still nothing. The Gods were against him it seemed. He'd run out on his perfection, and the Gods were punishing him for this slight.

Saying a silent prayer he turned the key delicately once more. The Gods were appeased, and the engine sputtered and roared to life.


“UGH I don't know!!!” She lamented “What the hell possessed me to kiss him to begin with?” she exclaimed pacing her kitchen talking to the universe. She leaned on the counter burying her head in her hands. “What have I done?”

“What's who done Lulu?” a familiar voice asked. It was her twin sister Tisha. She looked at her sister, a face that matched hers but that wore dark eyes to her light, and hair to match.

“Ohhhh Tish...” her eyes brimming with tears walking to her sister for an embrace. She sobbed into her hair mumbling something incoherent.

“Woah woah!” she pulled her sister back to face her “I can't understand a frickin word you just said. Take a breath....and sloowwwwly tell me what's wrong.”

She pulled her face back and stared at her sister, she took a deep breath and with her voice breaking managed “I kissed Gregg.”

“You KISSED him KISSED HIM? Nooo, you didn't KISS him did you? Ohhh Lulus....” her sister stared at her with sympathetic eyes “And then?”

“And then I ran...I frickin bolted. Like seriously? Who does that?” Gregg turned and stared at his friend who stared at him incredulously.

“Apparently you do dude.” he said shaking his head.

“UGH. What am I going to do Dez? I mean seriously? I ran out after kissing Louisa March. She'll never talk to me. I just lost my best friend.”

“Okay fine. You're screwed dude. Now get off the vinyl stacks. I've got to sort them. If you want to lament and piss and moan about your own stupidity either go sit over there, or go find her. Either need to move.”

“You're all heart...thanks bro.”

“Look. You want to know what I think? I think you want to go and kiss her again. I think you so desperately want to do that you can't even think straight. Instead you come here, to me. The boyfriend of her sister and piss and moan about how you fucked up. And yes, you fucked up large bro. She is the best thing that could ever happen to you. But instead you're here...with me. What kind of fucked up shit is that? Get into your Jeep, drive up to the Hills and find her. She won't have gone far, she's a creature of habit.”

Gregg nodded. He knew he'd find nothing but the truth from Desmond. He was a blunt and frank person who Gregg knew would point him in the right direction. “Thanks Dez.”

The towheaded blonde nodded his face now buried in the vinyl records sorting them frantically. “Ya huh....Oh and one more obligatory statement I'm bound to make. If you break her heart...I will kill you.”

“Thanks Dez.” Gregg repeated with a large toothy grin sprinting out the door and to his Jeep.


“So, kissed him. What's the worst that could happen from that?”

“I think him taking off without a word should be indicative of how bad it could be Tish.” sighed Lulu

“Okay buuuuuut what if he was know surprised? How did it all happen?”

Lulu shrugged “Well, he came over – you know like he always does for a swim. I came downstairs to meet him, he was already in the pool. He'd let himself in, like he always does. When I came downstairs he got out of the pool, came over to me and I don't know I just... like BAM happened. Next thing I know, he's apologizing and bailing out the back gate, and I'm left standing here like a dumbass who kissed her best friend!”

“You're not a dumbass Lulu.”

"Well, it's not the smartest thing I've ever done...obviously!"

"You're selling yourself short and setting yourself up for failure. You don't know what he was thinking."

"I don't know what the fuck I was thinking either." Louisa lamented resting her head in her hands.

"Lou???" a familiar voice from outside the kitchen window called out

Louisa's head shot up and stared at her sister wide eyed. "Oh shit. He's here....Tish...what do I do?!"


He banged on the gate with his fist. "LOU???" he called out again.

"Forget your key there big guy?" smiled Tish from the front step

"Tish! I have to see Lou! Is she here??? Her car is here!"

Tish sighed and rubbed her forehead "Gregg..." she began

"Come on Tish, I know she told you what happened today. Please...let me in." He implored her.

"She did Gregg. She told me you took off for high ground when it all went down." she folded her arms across her chest

"I did." he sighed "Look, please just let me in so we can talk face to face. I'll explain everything. You know I'm not some serial killer. And besides we both know if you don't let me in, I'll just hop the fence and climb the trellis anyway."

"It's unlocked..." Tish smirked tossing over her shoulder as she walked back inside. "Come to the kitchen and we'll talk."

Gregg sighed, putting his thumb to the latch he realized the gate had always been unlocked but, in his exacerbation, had not tried it. With a click the gate swung open and Gregg slipped inside.


"Okay so, spill it cowboy. What the hell is going on?" Tish stood in the kitchen with her arms folded.

"I just want to see Lou."

"You're not seeing her until you talk to me first." Tish said shaking her head. "So you may as well spill it."

Gregg sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his tussled brown hair. "I don't know what happened Tish. I just...I freaked out."


"She just...I just...she made me..." he stammered

"Did she touch you in your naughty spot?" Tish smirked

Gregg's blushed feverishly "Nooo, nothing like that."

"No. I know. You know how I know? Because you ran like a chicken shit."

"I know, I know!" Gregg sighed "Dez already ran me through the ringer. I just want to work all this out."

"What if it's too late for that?" countered Tish

"I...I hadn't thought that far in advance." Gregg stammered "I guess I just need to see her, to find out if it's too late or not. I love her Tish."

Tish smiled. "She's upstairs."


Gregg took the stairs three at a time up to Louisa's bedroom door, taking a deep breath he knocked.

"Tish? Is he..." the door swung open. Instantly Lou's face went red. "Oh...hi." she mumbled.

Gregg stared down at her looking at her with different eyes than he had ever before. She stepped backward into her room, he stepped forward into her modest sanctuary.

"Hi." he replied still staring down at her.

"Look, I'm sorry I..."

"Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"You let people take away your power? You don't let people be wrong. You have this annoying habit of feeling like you always have to apologize and be 'wrong'. And the thing of it is're rarely wrong. It's annoying, it's frustrating as hell. But it's also one of your best qualities."

"I just...I shouldn't have..."

"Shouldn't have what? Kissed me?" he now stood in front of her as close as anything

She stared up at him with tears in her bright eyes, eyes that he had known since he was 6 years old. And eyes he had loved from the first moment he had seen them.

"Yes." she managed



"No." Gregg smiled "You see...I'm the one that should be apologizing. I'm the one who should be sorry. I never should have let things get this far. I should have talked to you long before now. But I guess I just didn't know how. I didn't want to lose my best friend. I just never knew how to tell you before."

"Oh..." she trailed off "You're gay..."

"WHAT? No!" Gregg exclaimed chuckling "Although, I am so very pretty..." he winked at her.

"What then? I don't understand." tears now freely streamed down Louisa's cheeks.

Gregg smiled and traced his thumb across her cheeks, wiping her tears away as quickly as they fell. "I didn't know how to tell you that..." Gregg took a deep breath before he spoke again "There is no one who makes me feel the way I want to feel like I do, as when I'm with you." he smiled down at her "You're my best friend Lou, I love you. And I think we can only build on that being together."

She stared up at him, into the eyes of the man who knew her world, her secrets and her soul.

"Now...about that kiss." Gregg smiled leaning in reveling in her kiss.


One Last Glimpse,


Tuesday, 19 March 2013

The face that time forgot

I've often spoken of problems/traumas when I was young. This is not one of those entries.

I saw this evening on that a painting by Vladimir Tretchikoff' is up for auction tomorrow. It's a well known 1970's print that I'm sure was as common in many homes as plastic on the couch and shag carpet.

When I saw this photograph it instantly brought a smile to my face, and a warm sentimental feeling to my heart. I instantly recalled someone I care(d) very much for in my youth having it hung in their living room. But right at this precise moment, I can't tell you WHO it was. It's not that I don't WANT to tell you who it was, I just can't remember who it was.

I have an inkling it was my Aunt Brenda and Uncle Ken who had a print of this painting, but I don't know that for sure. My Aunt Brenda and Uncle Ken (not my real Aunt and Uncle) were friends of my Mothers who are/were from the UK. When they first came over, my Mom used to babysit their children (even though I don't believe there was that much in age difference between my Mom and My Aunt Brenda). Over the years they became very close and we spent many days/nights/weekends with them.

I love this painting/print, it may be almost as tacky as velvet Elvis to some. However for me it recalls a time and place in me that I think of frequently, but now it brings with it a love for this woman's face. A face I had forgotten existed, until now.
One Last Glimpse,


Monday, 18 March 2013

What's the big hairy deal?

I was reading an article on (Canada's answer to about how people are in a tizzy about how on the front page of the Globe and Mail is a photo of Kaetlyn Osmond in a less than "dainty" position. Okay, so it's a 'crotch shot' of her in the middle of her FIGURE SKATING routine with her leg up above her head.

Okay first of all, if I could get into that position, on skates, wearing that cute little red skater outfit (and look good in it) I would. And I wouldn't give a shit or not if you put my photo on the Globe and Mail, the London Free Press, The Toronto Star or the Kingston Whig Standard. Nor should she.

SHE'S FIGURE SKATING FOLKS. It's not like she's stumbled out of a limo half in the bag after downing a 40 of JD, after snorting half of Peru and shown her goodies. No. She's Figure Skating at the Worlds here in London in an exhibition skate and put her leg over her head, and someone snapped a photo. Really? Is this REALLY worth getting all spun up about? No. What's news worthy or what SHOULD be news worthy is how our country did. Not taking a less than flattering shot of a wonderful young lady, and plastering it out there. Come on G&M really out of all the photos you likely took, you choose that one? Classy.

She's wearing underwear and while it may be a less than 'lady like' position, it's certainly no big woopdeedo to be causing a fuss over.

Is not like you can see her showing her "Beaver" (a little Canadian humour). So what's the big hairy deal???

Good on ya Kaetlyn!


One Last Glimpse,


Tuesday, 12 March 2013

I can't stop myself it's a... New Religion

I'm not a religious person - as (if you are a regular reader - or if you know me at all) you well know. Spiritual, yes, okay... maybe. I'll accept that. Religious? Absolutely not.
And yet...
For some reason, this whole Papal (not to be confused with paypal) electoral goings on I find completely fascinating. Perhaps it's because it is done all in secrecy, or maybe it is because all the robes are such a bright and cheery red colour. In any event - I find the whole thing fantastic. It's only the second Papal election I can recall (I believe Pope John Paul II was elected before I was born - and if it was after I was born, I was far too young to recall it).
The entire ceremony is rich in pomp, circumstance, costumes and ceremony all it's missing is showtunes. And of course, ever the secrecy that intrigues me. It's much like the masons and their rights and rituals, I suspect the church would disagree with that fact, however I digress.
But I have questions... like -- what do they do? I mean yes they vote as to who the new Pope is going to be, but is it all done in Latin? Do they spend the entiiiiiiiiiire time discussing who would make a great Pope or do they take a break for a game of cards and to watch CNN? Is the affair catered? If so, do they have contact with the cater staff? Or is it left in a separate room and then when they're gone they go in and eat? Do they sleep in the Sistine Chapel? I'm not mocking this process or what it stands for btw, this is just how my mind works. These are the things I want to know.

The first vote has been cast - and we have black smoke. No new Pope yet. Maybe tomorrow.
One Last Glimpse,


Friends of Mine: A spotlight on kindness

Often, in this day and age of go, go, go we don't have time or don't care enough to help others. We often don't have time to think of anyone – outside of ourselves – nor do we want to. We all too often in this world are egocentric and self absorbed, it can be tiring and mundane as well as cruel, cold and callas. We put ourselves above others and don't bother to help those in need. This, is not one of those stories.

In this modern digital age of Faecbook, Twitter, Instagram, Blackberry (Crackberry), iPhones, texting, WhatsApp and Skype we have more ways to communicate than ever before. We can be in touch with friends and family and even an idol or celebrity, by the click of a button.

As those of you who have read this blog before, I am a proud Duranie. Through the mediums of Facebook and Twitter I have had the privilege and honour of communicating directly with my idols. But also along the way, I have met some pretty amazing people. People from all over the world who love Duran Duran as much as I, and through that, we (and they to each other) have become friends.

We communicate every day as any friend would, learn about families, friends, work and pets. We laugh over silly photographs and have on occasion been brought to tears by each other's generosity and senses of humor. We've traveled to meet one another, at shows, book signings and just to generally hang out. We smile when others are happy, and cry when others are sad. We are a community, a family.

A few months ago; one of my friends; Kristina, her Mother-in-Law came to Canada for an extended visit from Croatia. At 70, she speaks no English and was returning yesterday home, to Croatia – alone. In an unexpected twist, the weather threw it's own ideas into her return home and she is now delayed in Frankfurt, Germany. I cannot imagine being Kristina let alone her Mother-in-Law who was stranded in Frankfurt where she knew no one, and did not speak the language.

This is where this glorious thing called the Internet and an iconic band called Duran Duran come into play. My friend Kristina Rebic-Podvalej met; via the Internet and Duran Duran another friend of mine Nicole Unger. Kristina lives here in Canada, and Nicole in Germany. They have since met both at gigs and other places and have formed a friendship. We all met on-line and thanks; in part; to Duran Duran.

Nicole (who speaks Croatian), who I know has both been ill and as well had other plans this evening...braved the weather as well as highway closures and went to the airport to not only make sure Kristina's mother-in-law was okay, but also booked on another flight in the morning and had somewhere to sleep for the night. That, not only is a true friend, but a wonderful human being. Nicole went above and beyond anything a mere “Internet friend” would do. This is the sign of a decent human being, and someone who truly cares about her friends. These are the friendships I am proud to have forged over a commonality of an iconic band who not only have always made us feel like we are a big family, but that we are a big part of their family.

Thanks to one small gesture on Nicole's part, there are reassurances all around, a world away. These are the “Friends of Mine”. 

One Last Glimpse,


Sunday, 3 March 2013

I hate this day....

17 years ago today at 7:30 in the morning, my world turned upside down, on its axis and I was in hell. My Mother, who had been suffering from cancer for the better part of 2 years, lost her battle and passed away.

I was shattered.

As I often do, when things are disasterous - I shut down. I put my feelings away, and take care of who and what I need to and take care of what I need to before breaking down myself. My sister, father and grandfather were a mess, and my husband, whose own mother had passed not 4 months prior and who had been "adopted" by my Mother as one of her own was devastated.

My parents, even though they had been divorced since I was 5, had found a friendship together during my Mom's illness. My Dad in turn had now lost one of his best friends in her I think. My sister, of course, was a wreck, she's probably the more emotional of the two of us. But not in the sense of crying or irrational, she's just different than I am. Then there was my Grandfather, who had (although he would never admit it) lost his favourite child, but who was raised to never show his emotion. So, he was trapped between what he was raised to know and be this stoic person or to let his emotions show. In the end, his emotions won out.

I don't remember crying at my Mom's funeral. In fact...the only time I remember crying was once when I was making phone calls to my Mom's friends. And once during the visitation with my friend Natalie. We were sharing stories, and we got laughing so hard I was in tears. It felt odd to laugh at a visitation, but it was exactly what my Mother had wanted to have happen. I felt a sense of relief and release.

I don't remember crying at the funeral itself. Maybe I should have. I know I was depressed for a very long time after her passing. Honestly, I probably should have gone to speak to someone about it, but I never did.

I'm alright now, exception being days like today. She's with me, I know that. I often dream of her alive, looking well and healthy. Usually the dream starts off with me saying to her "You know your dead right?". I'm not sure if that's confirmation for me to make that realization or for her. Whatever the case, I have done that so often now she typically replies with "We've covered that Kendra, can we move on?". Which is absolutely something my Mom would have said.

I miss my Mom. A lot. Not just today, but everyday.

When I woke up this morning, I knew it was going to be a bad day. It was just that feelig you know? Dread, meloncholy, and sadness. I got up, knowing I had to work (with no way out of it), my period had started and the anniversary. Yuck. I went downstairs to muck about on my computer. It kept turning itself off on its own. NOT what I wanted to have happen. It's never a good sign when a computer does that. You know?

I did the only thing I could do, put my big girl panties dressed and came to work leaving my computer issues in the more than capable hands of my husband. And here I sit. I feel a little bit better all things considered, from what I understand my computer is fixed and work... well is work.

As the saying goes "This too shall pass" and it will... I know it will. I've got such fantastic support in you all and I love you all for that. Thank you.

Thank you for making a difficult day a little easier.

One Last Glimpse,


Friday, 1 March 2013

Les Mis - Then and Now

Growing up in the 80's we had good music. I'm not just talking about Duran Duran, Wham!, Prince, Madonna (when she was good), Tears for Fears, etc. We had some great musicals that came out, Phantom of the Opera, Cats (well almost anything at that point by Andrew Lloyd Webber) and Les Miserables were the big ones.

The music from some of these musicals were almost as popular as the music you'd hear on the radio within some circles I associated with. Some songs even became "catch phrases" amongst these groups of people. It was fun, with some of my friends I'd even greet them (singing) a line from one of the musicals and anticipate the proper response. I tended to do this with one friend in particular simply for fun. She is probably one of the most tone deaf people I have ever met (which is funny because her mother sang beautifully like an opera singer). But she loves to sing, and it was always fun and even now to this day, we still do it occasionally.

My high school, in the midst of the love affair with Les Mis the musical, performed the Victor Hugo play Les Miserables that Les Mis (the musical) derives from. And yet another extension of my love affair with the musical grew. 

When it was announced that Les Miserables was being made into a film, I grew concerned. Musicals in recent years tend to not translate well onto the screen. I'm not sure why that is, but for whatever reason it tends to be the case. The casting would have to be perfect, the director... it's like messing with something sacred you know?

I wanted so very desperately to go to see it with not only my husband, but with those I had celebrated the musical with when it had been released during our teen years. Some unfortunately no longer live near by, and some I no longer (with the exception of on Facebook) I have contact with.

As I sat in the theater and the movie started, it became clear that my fears were for nought. I know a lot of people either loved it, or hated it. There seems to be no middle ground. I know a lot of people cried during Anne Hathaway's "big scene". I didn't. Honestly I can remember thinking 'uh oh...' does this mean I'm not going to cry? I found that surprising knowing me. I often watch television programs and by the end of episodes I am in tears frequently turning to my husband saying 'why do you make me watch this shit?'.  But, in form true to myself by the raise of the lights, I (and the rest of the movie theater, including my husband) were in tears, free flowing.

For me the tears flowed for a multitude of reasons, not just brought on by the spectacular of the movie but also for the emotion of the past surfacing and my connection to the musical itself. And the memories, both good and bad of those precious people I still, to this day, hold dear.

Do you hear the people sing?

One Last Glimpse,