La Noticia:

What was I thinking about?  My giant head?

Just a note here: I have updated the BLOG INDEX on my hompage up until April of 2025 and I kinda can't believe how much stuff there is on these blogs.  I like to think there's something for EVERYONE!

​So, this blog entry is gonna be totes rando...just some miscellany that comes into my head.  My GIANT head...speaking of having a big head; and I don't think that I do; but my next few thoughts may make me seem a bit presumptuous; however, as my "filter" is now somewhat officially broken (and what do I have to lose, right?)  I wanted to talk about Scarlett Johansson's tootsies.  And it wouldn't be the first time...

A couple of years ago I wrote a blog about feet.  It was called "Baring My Sole."  Here's a link:
www.christopherfreidy.com/blog/baring-my-sole
It was about feet.  In general  And specifically; that is, Celebrity Feet; of which, there is an entire website dedicated to said (as well as anyone else who wants to get their feet wet there (ha-ha).  It's called Wikifeet.  Here's a link:
wikifeet.com
In my blog, I posted a grid of photos of famous feet.  All men.  And there was a list of names and you had to match the feet to the person.  As I said, it was all men; but for one.  That would be Mrs. Scarlett Johannson-Jost.  I did not qualify why I included her in a group of men.  And as some might consider me a bit of a wag; some might've thought I was implying that Ms. SJJ's feet were manly.  Or mannish.  Let me clarify that here:  that was not my intention.  I included ScarJocojo (TM/Pat.Pend) as I felt I should throw in a pair of lady feet so as not to be too sexist.  In fact, I think I shouted to the hubs in another room to throw out a name of a celeblady's feet that he (or anyone) might like to take a gander at.  So ScarJo was a go!
Now here's where my head gets big.  And bear with me...I'm not saying my shenanigans have infiltrated online (or any) culture; and she probably never had any clue about this blog of mine out there in the Ethernet (and why would she?).  But, as my husband is a huge fan of Ms. J-J (as am I, but he even more so; which is why he probably shouted her out for feetly consideration in the first place); we see ALL of Scarlett's movies.  I mean EVERYTHING.  Although, we didn't see Avengers: End Game (but let's face it: you've seen one of those and you've seen 'em all, am I right people?!!?).  Yes:
a new ScarJoJo project is out and we're there.  So, it seemed to me that I started to notice that she was appearing barefoot in a lot of recent stuff.  Like, scenes where she didn't really need to be.  Like in that NASA movie she did with Tatum Channing.  Like it seemed to me that she was putting her barefeet forward for some reason. I remember thinking: Oh, I hope she didn't read my blog and think I was implying that she had manly feet.  I felt really guilty.  Now, this is all predicated on her having seen the blog and then my assumptions about a possible reaction.  The chances?  Slim to none.  But then again...who knows.  She's a Sag.  I'm a Sag.  My phone keeps informing me that Archers have The Shining.  In any event...let me assure Ms. JoJo that she has perfectly lovely and feminine feet that have received a Five-Star rating on Wikifeet!  The highest foot-afficionado rating!  If Michelin gave stars for feet, I have little doubt it would be the same!  Congrats Pretty-Footed Lady!

She might also be happy to know that her hubby's tootsies are hubba-hubba on LeFoot de Wiki:

Not a perfect 5; but close enough.  And close-ups too.  It seems Colin hurt his foot during the Paris Olympics(?) and there are close-up photos of said foot.  Even bloody and bandaged, Colin's tootsies tantalize--err--not that I'm into that or anything.  But don't we live in a fabulous world where we can see, say...Alec Baldwin's feet at the stroke of a...keypad?  And might I add his hot legs too?

I told you this blog was going to be all over the place...
Oh, guess what?
​DRUMROLL PLEASE:

I'M HAPPY TO REPORT IT'S THE 25TH ANNIVERSARY OF: THE 'TIPPI' TRAP!

What's The 'Tippi' Trap, you ask?  Why it's a play we--"we" being my friends and our theater company--put up back in the wild and wooly days of pre-Geffen Playhouse Hollywood Theatricals:

It's all over on my Youtube channel, if you're interested.  I even have the original "middling" review of it from the LA Weekly.  I'll find it and we can discuss later!  But here's a link to part one:
youtu.be/N7den75BXlw?si=Lmi8ALijHZZg6Evu

Speaking of Youtube...
I have a lot of stuff over there; but not a lot of views, particularly; but that's okay.  It's more of an archive for me.  I'm lucky if a video I post cracks a hundred views.  But there is one that has quite a few views and some rave reviews. Let's take a look!

Around ten years ago I was working with a theatrical group called The Star City Playhouse.  I was in like 90 percent of their shows.  The man who ran the show; I guess, took a liking to me and kept putting me in play after play; usually as the leading man.  I am an actor.  How could I say "no"?  But after a while (I'm talking years here) I started tiring of it.  He started to depend on me being in every show.  I didn't want to be in every show.  But I fellt super guilty if I said "no" or that I needed a break.  You see, he'd pissed off a lot of people in the theater community and alienated most of the local talent...it's involved.  A Whole Other Blog.  So when "new blood" joined the group, I was thrilled.  I  much prefer being part of an ensemble; especially if the ensemble is doing a comedy or a musical or a musical comedy.  Like heavy dramas with small casts?  Avoid at all costs, is my thinking.  We did Moon for the Misbegotten.  It's about an alcoholic.  I needed  drink after that one.
So, the two fellows in the above video were from a town that was about 45 minutes away.  They were like half my age; but I felt two kindered spirits.  One of the kinder-points was our shared love for Tommy Wiseau's The Room.  And that love spread amongst the theater regulars to where at one point we all got together to see a screening at a local theater that had, like the Mystery Science Theater guys making fun of it in real time.  Something like that.  But they had technical problems.  There was no sound.  Everyone left but us and we all remained in our seats, supplying the dialogue, in character.  We had a blast!
Stephen, the guy playing "Johnny" in the clip was particularly obsessed with it.  I would often thrill him with tales of my real world experience of The Room from when I lived in Los Angeles.  And in particular, the infamous billboard:

Memory can be a fuzzy thing.  The above is not the exact billboard I recall.  I remember it being just Tommy's face with the phone number and the words: Can You Really Trust Anyone? or something along those lines.  It went up a year or so before we moved to Virginia, but it did not go unnoticed.  I can remember my first thoughts about it.  I thought it was an ad for a theatrical performance by some actor I was "supposed to know" but didn't.  I'm not even sure it said that it was a movie.  Joseph thought, because of the mysterious question involved that it had something to do with Scientology or perhaps some new "religion" that had sprung up in LaLaWood.  Eventually, we memorized the number and he tells me we called it.  "Oh, yeah..." I said, "didn't we reach a recording and it was actually Tommy Wiseau?"  "Yes," he replied.  "What did he say?" I asked.  "Even if I could remember," he said, "you couldn't understand what he was saying."  I called the number and it rang through to dead air and then clicked off.  Weird.  But what isn't weird about Tommy and his Room?  He really should do a sequel.  I wonder if he could recapture that once in several lifetimes magic?  If anyone could, I bet it would be him!
So, one day I asked Stephen and TJ (he played "Mark") if they would memorize the dialogue from the "I didn not hit her!" rooftop scene.  They readily and delightedly agreed.  I watched the scene and transcribed the "dialogue," and produced pages.  They memorized and we shot the scene in two takes.  I did a super quickie cut on my computer and the result, as you can see, is a delightful shambles.  That is visually and soundwise.  The shot composition doesn't match between cuts and there is extraneous noise; but I think it added to the "on the fly" spirit of the original.  Stephen went on to join a rather prestigious playwriting group here in Roanoke.  It's at Hollins University:

And he's been directing many well received plays here in the Roanoke theatrical scene; of which (believe it or not); there is one.  TJ moved to Richmond.  Sad.  Miss him.
So, speaking of plays...
Back in the early 2000s my friend Joel wrote a play and we put it up at the Gardner Stages in Hollywood.  I guess there's a theater company that works out of there: Working Stage?  Something like that.  Maybe they're the same entity?

The play was called Touch and it was about a gay male couple and several of their friends.  It took place in the couple's apartment.  Our friend Joseph played the landlady.  I remember the space was the smallest of the theaters and that the set was really crammed.  The play was more or less a comedy.  It was reviewed by a gentleman with the rather unimagineable name of Wenzel Jones.  Apparently Mr. Jones is not only a theater critic; but an actor as well.  Now, if you ask me, that's a real Conflict of Interest.  But apparently the United States has dispensed with the Conflict of Interest and Mr. Jones was simply on the cutting edge.  I tried to find the review for Touch, as Mr. Jones has an archive at Backstage Magazine (it was under their auspices that Mr. Wenzel reviewed the play: Backstage West, to be precise) that go all the way back(stage) to the early 2000s, which is when we did the play.  But alas, the review was not there.  I think you may have guessed he did not like it.  Here are a couple of sentences from a review of Annie he wrote, which I think gives an excellent idea of his shtick when it comes to something he didn't paritcularly cotton to:

So, he's a would be Addison DeWitt; with perhaps a fifth of the wit.  Mr. Jones, in his "scathing" review pretty much ripped it apart in a "delightfully" "bitchy" way.  In reviewing my performance, if memory serves me correctly, all he could muster was some insulting comments about my waistline and my hairline.  That was it.  I mean, seriously.  He reviewed my physical presence; nothing about my performance.  So here's a picture of Mr. Jones:

Now, I could exact a revenge here.  I have other pictures...as they say in the old gumshoe movies.  I could post those and tear apart Mr. Jones' appearance.  But I'm not going to.  Because I'M A NICE GUY. But I'm not a nice guy.  Did you ever notice that guys who say they're "nice guys" always seem to be not very nice guys?  So no.  I'm not a nice guy.  I have horrible, ugly, vengeful thoughts; just like most everyone else.  But I don't get off on belittling people.  Or making fun of how they look because I'm too assinine* to make a truly thoughtful observation.  It doesn't give me joy to make other people feel less than.  And speaking of less: Mr. Jones is the LAST person to go after someone based on their hairline.  I will say that.  Yes.  That I will say.  And I might add you could easily do a production of Annie on his forehead.  Turnabout is fair play, Captain Dudley.
Well...now that we've cleared the air...let's cleanse our pallets with something nice.  How about an actual Nice Guy.  Let's see what Hal 9000 has to say if we ask him who The Nicest Guy on Earth is.  Another drumroll please!

It's none other than KEANU REEVES!

Okay...No More Mr. Nice Guy!  That's me, that is.  I mean, should I be classy and not cave to my lowest common denominator by posting beefcake pics of Mr. Reeves?  Or his feet?  NO!  NO MORE MR. NICE GUY!  Bring it on Keanu: and TAKE IT OFF! And STEP on it!!!

Oh, he's a lefty!  Nice! 
3 degrees of Me-ation: when I worked at Macy's Beverly Center in the Customer Service/Gift Wrap Department, the location in the main store was right next to the brassiere section.  I was on my way back from lunch or something and Mr. Reeves was perusing the brassieres.  This caught my attention in several ways.  Firstly, there was almost never anyone shopping for bras in that department.  I never understood it.  It was empty like 98 percent of the time; so, to have an actual person wandering amongst the Bali boulder-holders was odd in and of itself. Secondly, it was frickin' KEANU REEVES. And that it was a man in a tweed sportscoat.  And a very tall man at that.  He was not going to go unnoticed.  And that he was a movie star wasn't all that odd, considering movie stars were on the premises quite often; but that it was Keanu Reeves quietly and intently and for quite some time looking at the most initimate of ladies merch?  I couldn't stop staring!  Of course there was no way he couldn't have felt my piercingly laser-like gaze on his back; but he kept calm and carried on.  To this day I wonder if he in fact purchased a bra and if so...who was it for?
Okay.  It's official.  My GUILT has kicked in over my quip about Mr. Jones' hairline.  I guess it's my Eanneagram 9 personality.  I want everyone to get along.  I want to smooth things over.  I want to make things right. I mean, even though he Broke Balding-Bro Code: (there must be payback). So, what's something nice we can say about Mr. Jones?  How about: "He was smart enough to get on Jeopardy!"

We're talking back in the day here:

Which begs the question: just how old is Mr. Jones?  But, we're being nice...so let's be nice.  Here are his opponents:

My research has revealed that Mr. Gelb went on to play the next night.  But can I just put myself in jeopardy by saying that Mr. Maney should've won?  I mean, they should've rigged the game to keep that babe on the air.  Maney?  Try ManLey!  Rooogahhh!!!

So there Wenzel.  I was nice.  Speaking of Jeopardy!  I know a lot of people crushed hard on Alex Trebek; I mean, I know I did, ever since High Rollers (oh, remind me to tell you the Ruta Lee/hit in the head by a chadelier story) and Alex's Super-70's stache.

Now I don't know about straight people or lesbians or whomever else; but I know a lot of Gay Men have Antiques Roadshow Crushes.  I know I do.  It's a thing.  Mine happens to be the poster man:

Mr. Nicholas Lowry.  He also qualifies as a Big Dumb Man.  For more on that, here's a link to my blog about them:
www.christopherfreidy.com/blog/in-faint-praise-of-the-big-dumb-man?view=full

He qualifies even more so when he's in a relatively quiet suit and clean shaven.  I haven't seen him on there in a while, and I need a Nick-Fix.  Let's see what we can find...

I need a moment.  My Nick-Fix just went from a crush to full blown Courtly Love!  I can't find any hard info about his birthday, other than that we're just about the same age.  As to Astro-compatibility? I guess we'll just leave it to the stars, as I'm happy to report I get along pretty well with pretty much all the other signs.  Nick, you just went to the very top of the Hall Pass List!

So, that portrait of me at the top is from my high school senior portrait sitting.  It was a proof that I tried to retouch with a basic photo editor but it didn't do such a good job.  I look too red and blotchy.  Not to mention shiny.  This particular style of portrait was often called The Reflection or Reflections.  And it's super cheesy.  Not only is the whole concept cheesy, I'm postitioned in such a way that it looks like I have a mutant ear growing out of the top of my head.  Needless to say, this was not the photo I went with for the yearbook or home use.  I don't think anyone ever liked this concept.  It's creepy.  And speaking of creepy...
I wanted to "retouch" the photo via computer--for free--and I loaded it on to one sight and the result was startling.  No, not just startling: terrifying.  I looked like Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs doing Imelda Marcos.  And I would post it here as a gag; but it simply isn't funny.  I don't want to inadvertently (or advertently) give anyone night terrors.  But I did impose a simple filter on it via one site and I think the result was better.  It took out a lot of the glaring pizza-face redness.  Interesting sidenote: in the portrait I did choose, I just went with the classic head and shoulders.  It hung in the stariwell of my parents house from '84 until they moved.  I was told that people who passed by it (who hadn't met me) often inquired if I was "a person of color."  I do sorta look anything but Irish.  Here's the second version:

*Miss Spelling Sez:

Oh, hai Tori!  It's been a hot minute!
Yes.  How are you?
I'm doing okay.  Hanging in there with the rest of my fellow Derangement Syndromettes.  And I know; I spelled asinine wrong.  It only has one "S."
I'm giving you a pass.  I think it should have two "s"s myself.  I mean, it does mean "resembling an ass."
Like an ass, as in the human glutei maximii?  Or ass as in an donkey; or is it burrow?
It's "burro": no "W."
Which one?
The animal...I think.  I guess both work. 
Speaking of asses; did you see Keanu's?
No.
We should ask the computer who has the nicest ass in the world.
Should we?
Yes!  Hey computer: who has the nicest ass in the world?  Oh, it's saying this Romanian gentleman named Andrei Andrei--
Who?
​This guy:

I couldn't find any actual pictures of his behind.
Life's tough.
I bet it was really tough in Romania under the Ceausescus.
I would imagine.
Well, you know what they say about the past...
It's prologue?
That too.
Okay. Gotta run.
Bye Tori.
Ciao.
I guess that concludes this blog.  And now it's back to our Christmas story!  Ciao bebes!

Please see the next blog for the next installment of: Cumming Home for Christmas.

CFR   5/29/25