For nearly 30 years, one man has tirelessly struggled and fought against the evils of the world, often receiving no appreciation or gratitude in return. His quest for justice has often brought him up against incredible foes, as well as steadfast friends. He has traveled the world in the face of incredible odds, all for the love of one woman. He is a champion of the weak and mistreated, and rarely receives the recognition he deserves. The man, the warrior, the legend…is none other than Super Mario.
It may come as a surprise to some, but our unlikely hero rose to greatness out of very humble beginnings. Mario originally hailed from New York City, where he worked as a landlord and a free-lance plumber. His brother and roommate, Luigi, often accompanied him on his plumbing endeavors, but spent most of his time serving as a food critic for Italian-American restaurants.
Mario was hailed for his plumbing prowess all throughout Little Italy, earning the nickname “Jumpman” from close friends and family, but his reputation rose to national attention in 1983 when the sewers of New York City were invaded by dangerous creatures of an unknown origin. When riding the 1 Train on the NYC Metro Transit one summer afternoon, Mario debarked at the Houston Street stop, on his way to an emergency plumbing call. As he was leaving the train car, however, he spied an unusual four-legged turtle scurrying about the tracks. A set of red, beady eyes stared back at him…and then two sets, and three, and ten. The entire subway stop was filled with vermin, who looked intent on overtaking the subway platform and the citizens who lingered there. With only seconds to act and turtles encroaching on his position, Mario sent a flying kick to the nearest creature, which surprisingly flattened the monster on its back…rendering it incapacitated.
The other turtles looked at each other in alarm: how had the plumber guessed their weakness? The remaining nine creatures cowered in fear…how had their well-guarded secret become exposed? Only their clan knew that falling prostrate onto their shells would leave them powerless. A second kick would knock them out completely. They could not risk an encounter with such a worthy foe. The turtles immediately retreated further into the sewer, leaving Mario as a confused and lauded hero.
Whenever someone comments on my blog, I am always doing a secret happy dance on this end of the computer. When someone subscribes to my blog, I perform a Rockette-worthy kick line in the privacy of my own apartment. But, when someone mentions me in a blog of their own…well, then I start doing the Charlie Brown, the Macarena, the Cha Cha Slide,and the Mashed Potato all at once (some would call this NOT a pretty sight, but then again, “some” have not yet witnessed true art taking place…).
One of my recent blogging friends, Marina Sleeps, was kind enough to reblog a post of mine from Monday entitled “And There’s That Line,” a post in which I ruminated about the challenges of keeping a blog private. She posts a weekly segment on her own site called “Favorite Blog Friday,” where she becomes personal cheerleader for the blog of her choice…and wouldn’t you know it, she chose me! Commence the break dancing!
Below, you can take a peek at her blog and all of the extremely kind words she said about mine. This is a perfect example of how reciprocal blogging is. There’s a wonderful sense of loyalty and friendship in the Blog-O-Sphere, and I’m very glad to have “met” Marina.
Have a festive weekend, all! Stay tuned for later in the day, as I expound on the challenges of having grandparents who swear, their defective hearing aids, and how one goes about “making Christmas” all over again. Merry Blogging!
This blog has been getting lots of attention. This blogger has a knack for art and a way with words. I am hoping NBC will kick Jay Leno out and her give The Tonight Show. That’s only my opinion. In this blog she sends out a great message in a funny way. So without further ado, I give you Aunt Bethany from Miracle On 32nd Street. And There’s that Line In the world of blogging, there is always a tricky line which we bloggers must choose a side on…. … Read More
Top Ten Reasons You Should Take a Day-Off From Blogging
10.) When friends ask you to hit the town, you tell them that you can’t, because the hours between 12:00 AM-2:00 AM are now dedicated to finishing up that pesky post in time for an 8:00 AM posting.
Consequently, bags begin to form under your eyes, normal sleeping patterns are interrupted, hair becomes a tangled bird’s nest, and you enter into a zombie-like state once situated at your computer. At this point, chocolate is the only life source.
9.)You personally know every “Freshly Pressed” blogger by name, age, height, Zodiac sign, and food allergy…AND you’re now following them all on Twitter.
You know, there is a fine, fine line between admiration and a restraining order…
8.) You’ve developed a callous on your index finger from pressing the “REFRESH” button on your keyboard so much.
Dude, if there was 67 hits thirty seconds ago, chances are…there are STILL 67 hits.
Welcome to your SNL Weekend RAC Update! Please welcome your guest hosts, Tiny Fey and–
(What? We couldn’t get Ms. Fey and Mr. Fallon?!? Why the hell not? Budget concerns? Mr. Fallon wanted to be paid in salmon? Okay, okay, you’ve got a point there…all right, give me two seconds…)
Welcome AGAINto your Non-SNL Weekend RAC Update! Please welcome your host…..me! Aunt Bethany!
Let’s get started!
Weekend RAC #1 was completed early Saturday morning before the clock struck 11 AM. I wasn’t ambitious in my efforts, nor was I up at the crack of dawn scouting out Salvation Army buckets. Nay, dear readers, the inevitable happened again: I was stood up by a student for a voice lesson, yet AGAIN.
One of my favorite TV shows is E!’s The Soup, hosted by one of my favorite comedians, Joel McHale (@joelmchale). After viewing this Friday, I just had to share a few snippets from the show. My favorite parts feature Oprah being humbled, Hasselfhoff being cancelled, and a precocious 8-year-old dancing in front of a live Today Show audience. I salute you, Mr. McHale. Thank you for consistently making me spew Diet Cherry Coke through my nose.
Miracle on 32nd Street 