More than Salad dressing

OK, so, again due to the Smallville Binge there was a cut back in my regular viewing schedule (I've dropped Terminator, Mondays were too full anyway, and personally, I wasn't buying it anymore. I mean, I'm sorry, it's too creepy that John's in love with Cameron, she's a ROBOT, and hot robot but a robot none the less.) But the binge now ends, I have watched every single episode of Clark and the gang, and it has officially been added to the schedule. I'm just so glad that episodes will now by Lana free, I really hate her. Like I haven't had a flaming hatred for a fictional character who you supposed to like since the early days of the Duck obsession and I hated Adam Banks. But this is not what I was planning on writing about, at all. I was planning on writing about Paul Newman.

It has been almost a month since Paul Newman died. It's odd, because I haven't dwelled on it the way I usually do when famous people died, because I'm around other people who were born after 1985 who's parents for some reason, unlike mine didn't decide to give them a proper pop culture education before the age of ten, they all think that he's the salad dressing guy. Me, I know Butch and Sundance by heart and The Sting is in my top 20.

My mom is a huge Paul Newman fan. HUGE. My dad met Paul Newman once because he was up for a job reorganizing the foundation, (You know where all that salad dressing money goes) and I think my mom almost actually squealed. My mom is not a squealer. I'm a squealer, my mom is not. We almost always bought Newman's Own foods, not just because they were better than other foods, but because she liked that his picture was on them. See, I come by all of this craziness naturally folks. Last year when I had to write that paper on a Western and I said I couldn't decide what movie to do, my mother's response was immediately, "Butch and Sundance! Of course Butch and Sundance!" (I ended up doing it on Serenity.) To her, this is really hard, because her celebrity crush died, and not like when Heath Ledger died on my sister, he died because he was old and sick. Which is really hard for her to accept because it means she's getting old. This is how she interprets it. She also didn't say that because well, that's not how my mother rolls, she doesn't talk about her feelings except in a sarcastic way, or if I prompt her. But I know her, and I know that's how she's feeling.

It must be weird, I mean, what happens when our hotties start getting old? I mean, besides George Clooney who is ageless and just gets sexier by the minute. What happens when all of a sudden like Leo's an old guy? I'm just saying.

Paul Newman was a movie star, you know, in the old fashioned sense, he always played a similar character, and did it well, he was bigger than the characters. And the man made damn good salad dressing.

Seriously, his Balsamic Vinagrette? If you're going with bottled it's the way to go.