I have been called many things in life: weird, strange, freaky, unusual. Most of these stemmed from high school and middle school. The descriptions are quite true, but I like to describe it as delightfully quirky. Like the people in Vermont.
Prefacing with admitted quirkiness, I will now delve into this post.
Have you ever had an unusual fascination with something? An excellent example of this is the Chuck Norris phenomenon. Of course I was swept up in the wave of it my freshmen/sophomore years in college, but it faded fast. Let’s face it, kicking kittens and spandex, karate-capable jeans just aren’t my thing. My life requires a touch more class than that.
And so, last week, I discovered the classy replacement to Chuck Norris. Angela Lansbury. Yes, Angela Lanbsury. This classy broad not only solved murders with an Agatha Christie-like prowess, but she plotted the murder of public figures and wore princess hats in the ’40s with great finesse.
Angela Lansbury would never kick kittens, oh no. I like to think she would nurture kittens and raise them to full adulthood, with a lilting, perfect accent. And she would never wear spandex jeans. It’s all about neat, well-cut dresses for Ms. Lansbury.
I’d like to use this post to start a revolution. Ladies, let’s look up to Angela. She’s all class. She’s all class and will continue to be all class.
I’m making my new mantra: What would Angela Lansbury do? You should, too.
