Unleash Your Inner 'Stache

Like many people, I often turn for guidance in times of crisis to an authority figure...someone who operates on a higher realm...someone who can extend to me the sage, informed counsel that I seek when faced with life's many obstacles and predicaments.

I see you nodding.

You know where I'm going with this.

Yes, like you, I can be found during these trying times standing under my carport in my leg warmers with hands raised, straining to be heard over the unbalanced washing machine thumping away in the background as a single, plaintive question crosses my lips:

"What would Burt Reynolds do?"

Throughout history, civilization has turned to the wise and moustachioed for inspiration in the disciplines of science, philosophy and the arts.


Only in the last, say, thirty years, however, has civilization come around to appreciating that the true wisdom of the follicular-upper-lipular (I'm pretty sure that's Latin) lies in the more contemporary, more enigmatic disciplines of creative finance, interpersonal relationships and, of course, stunt driving.

Which leads one to ask - what is the source of the moustache's remarkable power? And why should it be available only to those who have the natural ability to grow one (watch it, I'm sensitive about that) or who regularly enter their car by leaping through the T-top while being chased by thugs with no lines of dialogue?

Well, those days are over.

Prepare to wield the power of the 'stache for your own ends - and in the comfort of your own recliner. I give you:

Moustache-On-A-Stick


And I mean that quite literally because I am, indeed, giving away a moustache-on-a-stick!

(It's not my personal one, you understand. It's a fresh one, cast in resin from a hand carved mold and stuck on a, um, stick. Hell, no, I didn't make it! I think it's pretty obvious that I have better things to do with my time. Okay, maybe it's not so obvious, but you know, I do stuff.)

Anyway...

Anyone who follows the moustache commodities market will tell you that this is one super-swank piece of blog catnip that will deliver unto its lucky owner both razor-sharp insight and a superhuman ability to burn rubber in any gear.

Of course, you folks will have your own uses for this powerful implement.

And speaking of which: the person who leaves the most entertaining and persuasive comment describing why they want their very own moustache-on-a-stick and/or what they would use it for will receive the one pictured above!

That's right - I will ship it directly to the winner at no cost! (Just to be clear, though, you're on the hook for your own Trans Am and jumpsuit.) As long as your comment is submitted by 3:00 pm Pacific Standard Time on Saturday, October 18, it will be in the running to bring home the 'stache.

So let 'er rip and tell us how you would wield your moustache power and, who knows? Next week at The Red Lobster someone might just tap you on the shoulder and say, "Hey, friend, aren't you Burt Reynolds?"

Happens to me all the time...

Good luck and may the 'stache be with you.
______________________________________________________

AND A HUGE NOTE OF THANKS...

...to all the SITS ladies who took the time to visit and comment here during yesterday's spectacular blogathon! I was overwhelmed by your kindness and enthusiasm and I look forward to visiting and commenting on your blogs ASAP.

(Perhaps at that time you will share with me your secrets to hair with loads of body and manageability. Just a thought.)

Thanks again so much!

XO Anna

If The Bandit's Wrong, I Don't Want To Be Right.

"Lift your skinny fists like antennas to heaven!"

That's what elhansonET posted as a comment under a YouTube compilation clip of images from "Smokey and The Bandit" three hours ago. Not three decades ago, hours. From Germany. (Go ahead. Do it out loud with the German accent. You know you're dyin' to.)

Meanwhile, back in the States, it's dirt track date night at Casa de Lefler. What are we screening? You guessed it. The 1977 tire-smokin', Coors-haulin', hammer-stomping classic that some (a.k.a. "cousins") have called "the best car chase movie ever made." (Please don't go all culture snob on me and start waxing poetic about "The French Connection." Apples and oranges, particularly in two crucial respects. "The French Connection": sorely lacking in both banjo picking and Basset hound. There, I said it.)

There's just so much to whoop about, from Burt Reynolds' mustachioed grin to Jackie Gleason's bug-eyed infuriation to Jerry Reed's masterful theme song: "Eastbound and Down."

Here are some family activities that go great with this classic film:

The Name Game: Have a son? See if you can convince him that you came this close to naming him Cledus. (Works best if everyone on the sofa keeps a straight face. Doesn't work at all if son actually is named Cledus.)

The Career Counselor: Are your teenage kids dragging their feet filling out their college applications? Try leaving brochures for trucking school in strategic locations around the house. (Careful with this one - it can backfire on you depending on how much your teen bonded with the movie.)

Lightning Vocab: Hit the pause button at key times during the movie and see who's first to define critical redneck terms of art such as: choke-and-puke, bootlegging, rocking chair and Texas bubblegum machine.

For the Life Imitates Art file: I am living - living - for the day when one of my kids raises a hand in class and asks for the hall pass so they can go "ten one-hundred."

Parent-teacher what?

That's a big ten-four, good buddy, and remember: keep the shiny side up and the greasy side down.