I'd Like To Thank The Academy...

You all know that I'm not one to toot my own horn (in fact, I don't even own a horn yet), but I have to invite you to come see my new short film, "First Bath". You can link to it from my Web page (www.gerryclark.com/Samantha), or you can get to it directly from one of these links:
AVI version (Windows): http://www.gerryclark.com/Samantha/movies/FirstBath.avi
QuickTime version (Mac/Windows): http://www.gerryclark.com/Samantha/movies/FirstBath.mov
The movie was actually shot some time ago, but we've been working hard on it in post production. Frankly, the biggest problem was the studio -- we argued back and forth for weeks over the final cut. Finally, I had to put my foot down. Unfortunately, that didn't have much of an impact, since my feet are rather small. Then I used my secret weapon. I won't tell you what that weapon is, but I will tell you that you can see it on display in the movie. And when I use it, I ALWAYS get my way. Just ask my mom and dad...
The film is shot in that raw, cinema verite style that is so popular on the indie film circuit these days. The script, lighting and special effects are all top notch, but the best thing about the movie is my performance. I don't want to spoil it for you, but I will tell you this -- everything you see me doing in there is acting. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I love taking baths. But somehow I was able to capture the pathos, the sorrow, the sheer tragedy that is Bath Time. I'm sure you'll agree that it's some of my best work yet.

Winnie The What?

I see him everywhere -- on my clothes, my blanket, even my diapers! He's cute and looks kind of cuddly, especially for a bear. After seeing his face for weeks, haunting me at every turn, I finally had to ask my dad: who is this ubiquitous cartoon character?
"Winnie The Pooh", he said.
"Excuse me?, I asked, confused. Sometimes big people have trouble saying what they really mean.
"Winnie The Pooh", he repeated.
The surprising thing to me is that he said it as if it was a completely normal name. Like "Mikey The Pee" or "Eddie the Spit-up". The bear is named after, well, poo! I can only imagine the trouble he must have had in grade school. The other bears are not gonna let a name like that go by without having some fun.
And yet, somehow, despite his unfortunate name, Winnie has gone on to become a superstar, at least in the baby world -- which of course is the only world that really counts. It must have been determination, drive, and a lot of hard work that made him so successful. I'll even forgive him for his sad and unnatural addiction to honey.
All I can say is -- my hats off to you, Mr. Poo! (My diaper too...)

The Joy of Crying

Sometimes it's hard to talk to Mom and Dad. I want to let them know when I'm uncomfortable, when I'm unhappy, and when I'm in need. Really, I'm not that needy: food, sleep, a dry bottom, a change of position, and sometimes just a hug. I tried special sounds for each of these, but somehow I just couldn't find the right words to tell them how I feel. (Hello! Not my fault, I haven't learned words yet!)
No matter how patient I was with Mom and Dad, they just didn't get it! Then I discovered something magical, something universal, something to help me bridge this communication gap -- crying. Okay, so it's not brilliant conversation. But when I cry, they get moving! And maybe they don't always get it at first, but they do go down my list. Eventually, they figure what I want. (Hint: try food first.) What's even better, the louder I cry, the faster they try! Now that's what I call service.
I admit, this isn't the best way to communicate. It's a lot of work for me (not to mention all that extra air I take in). But it seems to work for them, so I guess I'll make the sacrifice. Or maybe I could train them on hand gestures...

More Pictures

My latest photo gallery: http://www.gerryclark.com/Samantha/volume2/index.htm.

Baby Talk

You big people have a lot going for you. But I have to ask you this -- what's with the baby talk? Do you have ANY idea how ridiculous you sound with the "pooky-pooky-pooky" nonsense?
Now I know there are studies that show that babies like me prefer the baby talk over regular adult conversations. And that's true, we do prefer it. But do you know WHY we prefer baby talk? Because it makes YOU sound so silly! There's not much that someone my age (one month and two days) can control about her life. What I eat, where I sleep -- even how I sit -- that's all up to you big people. But when it comes to baby talk, I've got the power. Spend a few minutes with me, and you're babbling like an idiot. And that makes me happy!

Is This Normal?

My parents seem to be pretty good people (although I don't know that many people, so I can't really be sure). But there's one thing about them that is -- well, frankly, strange. They have this obsession with my poop.
All day, and all night, that's all they want to know about. How's your diaper? Did you poop? Was it a big poop or a little one? As soon as I go, there's mom or dad, ready to get rid of it. It's like they have some sort of poop collection, or something. Can you imagine how strange it would be if one of your friends wanted all the details of your bodily functions? You probably wouldn't spend too much time with him. Anything to avoid those awkward "I gotta go to the bathroom" moments.
Nonetheless, I do what I can to make mom and dad happy. I do my business five, six, sometimes seven times a day. Sometimes I poop even when I don't have to, just so they'll have something to talk about.
And get this -- this is my favorite: every so often I'll poop, then as soon as they change my diaper, I'll poop again! A two-for-one deal -- what could be better?