Avenue G

Avenue G Going on Hiatus

2010-02-17T18:53:00.000-08:00

Well folks, this is probably the last entry for Avenue G for a long while.

I started this blog back in 2006 as a way to "cut loose" and do wacky blogs away from the judgmental eyes of coworkers and relatives. That really didn't happen primarily because blogging is a lot of work and I got behind. Supporting two blogs is pretty difficult and time-consuming.

I tried putting Avenue G on "auto-pilot" with syndicated content and selected retreads from my other blog, Strange Fascination. Was hoping that I could focus more interest on the arts and movie/book reviews but it didn't garner enough page hits to be worthwhile.

The blog will stay out here; who knows I might even resume posting to it again if I get the time back in my schedule.

My other blog is still active: http://strange-fascination.blogspot.com

Best wishes and thank you for your patronage faithful readers.

Robert, aka blogSpotter

Remembering Monica

2010-02-02T15:44:00.000-08:00

What blue dress? -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
I was a naïve 40 year old Democrat in 1997, when the first whispers of “Monicagate” hit the political airwaves. There was a lot of rumor and innuendo, but no proof that President Bill Clinton, serving his 2nd term, was having an affair with anyone at all. I was a Clinton supporter, and couldn’t imagine that the rumors had any credibility. Clinton was already confronting the Paula Jones accusations; in a Jones deposition he denied any rumors about the 22 year old intern, Monica Lewinski. That Clinton was willing to settle out of court with Paula for $850,000 should’ve clued me in. That’s a nice chunk of change even for a sitting president and ex-lawyer. To friends and anyone who would listen I’d say, “These accusations are ridiculous! There are cameras and people all around!”. I figured that Paula was just a gold-digger. And diehard Clinton-haters were behind all the rest of it.

I was surprised and concerned when the Drudge report broke the story on January 17, 1998. Everyone in my Supply Chain class huddled around the TV in the lounge that afternoon, as the story played out on CNN. This was only Day One, and already the snarky jokes had begun. It seems that Monica Lewinsky, a college intern from an affluent California family, had “inappropriate relations” with Clinton from 1995 thru 1996. Lewinsky’s superiors, well aware of the situation, decided to place her at the Pentagon – well away from the President. There, the love-struck girl became friends with the (still) serpentine, evil Linda Tripp – a motherly, middle-aged confidante with book royalties and political intrigue coiled up in her heart. Lewinsky confessed all to Tripp, who dutifully recorded the conversations and handed them over to Ken Starr, the Independent Counsel investigating Paula Jones. Starr gave Lewinsky “transactional immunity” if she would spill the beans on Clinton. Very reluctantly, Monica did just that – otherwise she could’ve been prosecuted for perjury. She even turned over the infamous “blue dress” (kept at Tripp’s suggestion) to help seal the deal.

The blue dress became the watershed evidence – no longer was there any he-said-she-said. Clinton had to come clean (so to speak) and at the very least admit an “improper relationship”. The rabid Republicans in both houses of Congress were champing at the bit for any reason to take the rascally, popular president down. Imagine their delight when it looked like there was just cause. The House voted to issue Articles of Impeachment, and a 21-day trial ensued in the Senate. Clinton was acquitted of all charges and remained in office. His Arkansas law license was suspended from his earlier false testimony to Starr, but that was his only punitive consequence.

AFTERMATH OF A SCANDAL

Monicagate very nearly became the orbital center of our pop culture for the two years that it played out. Moralists decried the fall of American values. Comedians mined it heavily for a mother lode of jokes which produces gems to this day. Middle aged matrons wagged fingers at Monica – “That filthy tramp!” – without pausing to think that the 50-something Leader of the Free World might have had some control over his own situation. Tripp was easily vilified as the ultimate betrayer and portrayed by John Goodman on SNL. Republicans used Monicagate for “Holier Than Thou” posturing until Larry Flynt came calling, bringing down GOP Congressman Robert Livingston, aspiring Speaker of the House, as the sacrifice that comes of hypocrisy. The scandal produced catch-phrases that resonate to this day:

“I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss Lewinsky.”
“This vast right-wing conspiracy that has been conspiring against my husband since he announced for Predident…”
“It depends on what the definition of the word is is”.

Clinton later attributed his indiscretions to stress and pressure. “I cracked, I just cracked”. He since has rebounded admirably as political operative and husband to Hillary who herself has soared as NY Senator and then Secretary of State under Obama. As for Monica, she had a short-lived stint as a C-List celeb after Monicagate, publishing a bio, and attempting a purse line. She has since finished a Masters degree in Psychology from the London School of Economics and otherwise keeps a low profile, away from the glare of publicity. If she never does a noteworthy thing, her contribution to our historical and cultural lore will be inestimable.

© 2010 blogSpotter

It's All About the Gifts

2010-01-01T19:39:00.001-08:00

I Know You Want Me -- Picture courtesy of Acer

by blogSpotter
Dear readers, I’m having my year-end writer’s block along with coming off of colds, flu and vacations. If I can ever get back to my normal, quiet and otherwise healthy existence I may recover the muse of witty and provocative blog-writing.

That being said, we’ll have to make do with a "Christmas memory" retrospective and movie review combo. My mother has become frail in recent years and we don’t do an over-the-top, house-of-lights yuletide festival that we once did at her house. In fact, this year there was nary a Santa candle to be found on any table top. We still had a wonderful family gathering with good food, cheer and gift exchange. In a Dickensian moment, it finally occurred to me that Christmas is not about the gaudy tinsel decor or the towering Scotch pine Christmas tree. It’s not really about the Mississippi mud pie or pecan fudge desserts. No sir, not at all. In the final analysis, Christmas is about the gifts. OK, you can bring baby Jesus into it too if you want. After we did our exchange of cologne, jewelry, candy, gift cards and various DVD’s all was right with the world. Well, almost right.

My Mother’s gift to herself was a purple (Amethyst) Acer Aspire netbook computer. It’s the new model, with 160GB hard drive and Windows 7 Starter edition. She paid about the same as I paid a year ago for a black HP Mini with Windows XP and a seriously smaller hard drive. I don’t know why my mind works as it does, but in the time that I set up her new Aspire, my HP Mini (which now has a dark spot on the middle of the screen) lost pretty much all of its appeal. How can I go thru major electronics as quickly as other people go thru shirts or magazines? I haven’t done anything yet, but an avocado green mini is probably in the near future for me.

We had 10 people and 4 dogs crowded into 1 house, so I had to flee the premises a couple of times to go to the Round Rock Cinemark. I watched Up In the Air in which George Clooney portrays a workaholic bachelor who lives out of a suitcase and lays people off for a living. The movie is an eye-opener for some of us who can relate to the main character’s lonely but simultaneously clueless situation. This movie will make the viewer question what success is in any real sense. It ends a little bit sadly and ambiguously -- you hope that George’s character, Ryan, has found a key to happiness if not yet happiness itself.

I also caught Sherlock Holmes with Robert Downey and Jude Law. This movie was stylish and plush with eye candy for all. With it’s clever plot twists, technical intrigue and fun bromance attitude, it reminded me of either Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid or maybe The Sting. Some of the technical gimmickry reminded me of Wild, Wild West where things improbable for 2009 are shown happening in London of 1887. No matter -- this movie is certainly not for historical nitpickers. This movie is for anyone who enjoys action, romance, intrigue and plot twists galore -- the main ingredients for all great cinema.

In sum, I had a really fun Christmas and very long (6 day) stay in Round Rock. I’m hoping that my future blog entries bring me back to history, science or philosophy but I’ll need to flush all the cold medicine, flu germs, and Christmas candy out of my system. Cheers, and Happy 2010 to all.
 
© 2009 blogSpotter

No, Canada

2009-12-05T20:44:00.001-08:00

Who do you love? -- Picture courtesy of Eagle Vision

by blogSpotter
Today’s article is a bit of a mixed bag -- movie review and political commentary. The two are actually (however remotely) connected, for readers who might think I’m totally stream-of-consciousness in my writing. I just watched Blue State, a small-budget sleeper movie from 2007. In it, Breckin Meyer plays John Logue -- a young, Kerry-Edwards campaigner disillusioned by the 2004 Presidential election loss. He decides to act on a drunken campaign promise and move to Canada since Bush has just been reelected. He takes on a fellow traveler , Chloe (played by Anna Paquin), to share gas and travel expenses and they embark on an adventure of romance and new awakenings.

The movie is billed as a comedy but is dead serious in its exploration of our loyalties, our egos and our sometimes empty political posturing. I have to acknowledge that even as a damn liberal Democrat, some of my very best friends are dyed-in-the-wool Republicans, as is much of my family. Blue State makes it very evident how many different shades of red, blue and purple there really are, and how nearly impossible it is to dismiss the different shades. (Spoiler alert) -- the movie brings out the fact that John’s older brother was a casualty in Iraq and it shows John’s stridency (shared by many of us even now) that Iraq is a bad, unnecessary war. The movie doesn’t solve any big political arguments or serve to change anyone’s mind -- it serves rather to show us how deeply mired we are in our family and cultural origins. No amount of Houdini maneuvers can free us from that.

Now speaking of good and bad wars, much has recently been made of Barack Obama’s decision to send 30,000 troops to Afghanistan with an eye on exiting in 2011. Liberals such as Michael Moore decry the escalation while conservatives decry the pre-announced withdrawal date. To conservatives, I would admonish that no large expenditure of men and money should be without expected benchmarks, targets and yes, time goals. None other than Bush’s man Rumsfeld expounded the idea (although he didn’t act on it). If the pivotal date arrives, and the results aren’t at hand, the date will probably be slipped but it’s something that our military will seek to avoid.

To liberals, I would remind them that crazy Arabs flew some airplanes into our buildings eight years ago. We haven’t caught Osama Bin Laden, we haven’t closed any Madrasas schools that teach anti-American hatred, we haven’t laid a finger on Wahabi Arabs that sponsored most of the terrorist activities, we haven’t significantly reduced Taliban influence in Afghanistan or Pakistan and we haven’t done much more than inflame Al Quaeda. Given the sad, sorry, namby-pamby, illogical and politically correct response we’ve given to this over eight years, I would say we should finally, at last, focus American man-power and attention to the people and geographic locale(s) that actually produced 9/11. To do otherwise is to invite a reoccurrence.

In sum, I think Obama gave a reasoned reaction to the events going on. It’s not a blank check or an open-ended engagement. It’s a stated objective and let’s hope for the sake of everyone involved that the objective is met. It would be politically expedient and tidy if it's met by 2011, but it might not make that date. Afghanistan differs from Viet Nam in significant respects, but should it come to develop a resemblence let us have the wisdom and grace to cut our losses and learn from our mistakes.
 
© 2009 blogSpotter

Trick or Treat at the Movies

2009-11-02T08:59:00.000-08:00

I don't think Mommy likes me -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
I just returned from a week-long vacation in LA and Palm Springs. As soon as I gather my thoughts and notes about all that, I may post a travelogue; I caught a bad cold halfway through the week and it has slowed down my thought process. That doesn’t stop me from doing a movie review (triple-header) however...

ORPHAN
This morning I watched a movie made for Halloween -- Orphan. The movie is basically a retelling of 1956’s Bad Seed which has Patty McCormack as the evil, possessed child. Orphan features less well-known actors, and has a very talented 12 year-old named Isabelle Fuhrman in the role of the disturbed 9 year old orphan, Esther. The movie has received some bad press because it seems to cast shadows on the whole adoption process. The movie company had to change it’s ad campaign as a response. "It must be difficult to love an adopted child as much as your own," was switched to "I don’t think Mommy likes me very much."

I wasn’t too keen that (early in the movie) she was singled out as potentially evil for being precocious or having a large vocabulary for her age. What are we implying? Must you be a dunce to not be evil? There I went and used a word like "dunce" -- hoping that doesn’t put me in the evil category. The movie has you believe that the step siblings wouldn’t report Esther’s bizarre, violent behavior to the parents. I guess movies need incredible events to proceed. Have to confess that I enjoyed some of the sillieness -- it's easily worth a $1 redbox rental fee.

WHATEVER WORKS
This small-budget Woody Allen movie challenges our assumptions about what normal really is, when a "normal" family from the deep south dissolves. The daughter seeks life’s answers in Manhattan, rooming with an old, acerbic retired physicist played by Larry David. The mother tracks her down, soon followed by the father. I won’t divulge what happens but each person experiences self-discovery in the unfettered setting of the Big Apple. I can’t say that the movie is ground-breaking since Allen and others have done similar topics in movies like Annie Hall and Manhattan.

MAIDEN HEIST
Can’t help but think that this was a "straight-to-video" movie since I never saw theater ads for it. It features three museum guards who scheme to keep a new curator from moving some of their favorite exhibits off to a museum in Denmark. They work up a plan to substitute forgeries for the real items and all manner of buffoonery ensues. With Morgan Freeman, William H Macy and Christopher Walken, even this "B" movie was an enjoyable use of time while I was answering the door for trick-or-treaters. I am reminded of what Carrot Top said on Jay Leno: "I make my movies right in the video store, and cut out the middle man". While that makes no sense it still made me laugh out loud.

OK, I’ve had my 3rd dosages of Wal-Phed and still feel like crapola. Have done all the usual things -- fluids, rest, chicken soup. Maybe about three more movies will bring me around. I have a busy week at work next week, as well as my first on-call rotation so we’ll keep our fingers crossed that everything works out OK.

© 2009 blogSpotter

Stupid Human Tricks

2009-10-06T07:51:00.000-07:00

Say what? -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Before tackling the Letterman topic, I'd like to talk about Obama. A letter today in the DMN described this term as "Yes We Can't". Obama's health care initiative stalled out in committee, he was rebuffed on his quest for Chicago Olympics, and according to Paul Krugman (in today’s op-ed), we still have a recession and need more stimulus. Also, Afghanistan is getting uncomfortably close to a quagmire status with no end in site. If I were a Sunday pundit, I’d be giving Obama a “C” right now. It’s still better than Bush’s “D-“ but not much. Obama needs to lead now, and quit speechifying.

LETTERMAN
I was really surprised last Thursday when David Letterman told his Late Show audience that he had just been victimized with blackmail and extortion. It seems Robert Halderman, a producer on 48 Hours, was threatening to disclose information about a series of sexual affairs Letterman carried on with staffers (including recently). Halderman was seeking $2 million to quiet the story and was justifiably arrested for his actions.

The story did pique my curiosity because a successful producer at the same network hardly seems like your average extortion artist. Why would he sacrifice so much for really so little? It turns out that there’s quite a bit more. Halderman was having dire financial problems, facing bankruptcy. Still, that wouldn’t necessarily push someone to do something desperate and illegal. But on top of that, Halderman and Letterman were romancing the same young woman. Apparently Letterman maintains a “stabbin’ cabin” right there at the Ed Sullivan Theater for all his staffing dalliances. This woman was a “dalliance” to Letterman, but a serious love interest to Halderman.

Now we’re talking. In the “what I did for love” annals, this could be an entry. Maybe Halderman’s defense could be “crazy in love” or “insanely jealous”. He had both a romantic and monetary motive – neither one sufficient to justify blackmail or extortion.

What of Letterman’s career and marriage? Well, he’s not a politician so the bar is a little lower for showbiz types. That a talk show host diddles around isn’t nearly as momentous as for politicians who are supposed to be perfect. He made a public apology yesterday to his wife, Regina, and one just has to hope that it takes. When I look at Letterman’s bespectacled, slightly befuddled picture I have trouble seeing him as a Don Juan. This old grandpa with heart trouble was breaking hearts?!

Whatever. I still like Letterman and could care less about his private life. Hope he works it out with the wife and doesn’t let up on the Elliot Spitzer jokes. We care about the sex lives of presidential candidates and attorney generals. Talk show hosts? Not so much.

© 2009 blogSpotter

Looking at Lolita

2009-09-01T15:55:00.000-07:00

A brat never looked so good -- Picture courtesy of A.A. Productions Ltd

by blogSpotter
TCM showed Stanley Kubrick’s Lolita (1962) last night -- a very black, splendid comedy about 20 years ahead of its time. Based on Nabokov’s novel, the movie tells the tawdry tale of Professor Humbert Humbert, a 50-something college professor rooming with a ditzy widow woman and her flirtatious beautiful teen daughter, Dolores (aka Lolita). He falls in lust (and even later into love) with the gum-chewing, hula hooping teen temptress. I’m not going to replay the whole plot line -- by all means rent this fantastic movie and wrap yourself up in the weird sequence of events.

There is so much to love in this movie, where to begin. Some misguided souls may see it as a drama or tragedy but it's very much the opposite -- it’s a smoldering, black comedy. The wordplay and names have double entendres that would shock and amuse David Lynch:

Cherry pie -- (Charlotte Haze bakes prize pastries, or is this what Humbert refers to?)
Camp Climax -- Where the bratty Dolores must go -- and why a camp with such a name?
Clare Quilty -- His strange last name is only one letter removed from “Guilty”
Charlotte Haze -- The ditsy 40-something has a last name that sums up her state of mind
Humbert Humbert -- A first & last name which may reflect upon the duality of Quilty and Humbert

The movie evokes Alfred Hitchcock in places. The road trip in the ‘58 Ford station wagon might call to mind Janet Leigh's character in Psycho, running from her embezzling crime, conscience in tow. The stark black and white photography also brings Psycho’s type of sleazy grittiness to the fore. Another great director who deals heavily in symbolism, irony and dream sequences is David Lynch (of Blue Velvet fame). He might have even gotten his Twin Peaks “cherry pie” pun from Lolita.

Here are a couple of interesting side notes about the movie. Pedophilia was such a forbidden topic that the novel was first published by a pornographer in France. In America, Lolita had to be advanced 4 years in age, from 12 to 16, so that the public wouldn’t be appalled (too much) by what it saw on screen. Sue Lyon played Lolita well and might even come across more as an 18 or 20 year old. Even so, the movie barely squeaked by the Hollywood ratings board and the Catholic Morals Council adamantly rejected the movie.

BlogSpotter has his own bizarre take on the movie. The Clare Quilty character played by Peter Sellers is portrayed as both a romantic rival and tormentor of Humbert. His character is most improbable -- throughout the movie he dogs Humbert and impersonates a state policeman, a German Psychiatrist and an uncle of Dolores. He shows up at strange but convenient moments when Humbert is feeling especially stressed and guilty. I think an argument could be made that Quilty isn’t even a real person -- he is in fact the guilty alter-ego of Humbert. The movie ends in suicide, not homicide. Discuss! OK, even the Nabokov screenplay has Humbert serving time for a homicide in a final note -- even he puts a literal take on his weird character(s). Movies like Fight Club and Sixth Sense have used “imagined” characters in years since Lolita was made; it might work in a rendition of this movie.

All said, the movie is excellent. I’m in a quandary as to whether I should ever erase it from my DVR, it’s that good. Please rent a copy of Lolita and see how far Kubrick had already advanced the state of cinema by 1962.

© 2009 blogSpotter

Fallon by the Gallon

2009-08-01T20:25:00.000-07:00

Fallon being Fallon -- Picture courtesy of NBC

by blogSpotter
Let me preface this by acknowledging I’m behind on my blogs. My wonderful stepdad succumbed to cancer July 3rd last week, and I’ve been in Round Rock helping deal with funeral details this week. John Latchford was a man who loved life and lived large. He will be missed by all of us; his comparatively quick, unexpected passing makes me realize how precious each day really is. That said, let’s proceed with a review of a surprisingly good show…

LATE NIGHT WITH JIMMY FALLON

Let me say, when I saw that Jimmy Fallon was replacing Conan on NBC’s Late Night, I was perplexed. My only impression of Fallon was his stint on Saturday Night Live, where he played mostly dopy, juvenile, silly roles. He didn’t seem to have the gravitas or tenacity to be helming a 5-day-a-week talk show that involves a constant flow of comedy monologs, celebrity interviews and skits. In my mind, he didn’t seem to have enough material, substance or talent to come through on it. Mind you, I like him jut fine as a sketch comedian on SNL but could not see him in such a substantive role.

Now, I must confess that I couldn’t be more wrong. His monologs are halting and nerdy in their delivery but somehow deadly hilarious in their content. You don’t hear belly laughs or guffaws from the audience but more like a wave of gentle chuckles. The audience genuinely appreciates the jokes but the reaction is sometimes as low-key as the laid-back delivery. Fallon does a lot of celebrity impressions and he’s also very effective in the comedy sketches. They do a soap takeoff called “7th Floor West” which makes me laugh my a** off. His acting style varies between semi-serious or campy as the skit may require.

Fallon’s show has a lot of youthful (Gen X?) appeal … there are gratuitous sex ploys like “Lick it for $10” where audience members are paid $10 to lick something (inanimate but nevertheless suggestive like a mirror). They also do guest web surfing where each guest is furnished a Mac Book and they all surf to a particularly interesting web site. More that might appeal to the college crowd -- little-known iPhone apps. Fallon was actually a computer science major prior to his comedy career, so his technical savvy is impressive for a late night comedian.

What else might you come across on this fun night cap of a show? How about Obama facial expressions where the Prez is caught giving a sneer or an evil eye. There are also “conceptual” gags similar to what Conan did in the same time slot -- shared audience experiences where everyone eats an Atomic Sour ball at the same time. One of the best things he did recently was the Fallon Dance Contest where people could send in video clips of original, improvised dance routines (done to a jazzy “Fallon Dance” tune). The submissions were hilarious; the two winning high school boys got to come on the how and show Jimmy how it’s done.

Am I still perplexed about Jimmy Fallon? You bet …. I’m perplexed that I didn’t have adequate appreciation for his comedy acumen and interviewing ability. He has surprising historical and pop culture awareness for such a young man... Sometimes a new dog does new comedy tricks, and this old dog has to admit that Jimmy Fallon is funny as hell.

© 2009 blogSpotter

Gone Too Soon

2009-07-01T09:16:00.000-07:00

Michael's HIStory statue in Europe -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
When news of Michael Jackson’s recent death reached me, I was shocked but not entirely surprised. In the 80’s, People ran an MJ byline that said, “Is this guy weird or what?” At that point, he was just known for harmless eccentricities -- an Elephant man here, a chimp over there, maybe a hyperbaric oxygen chamber next to that. By the 90’s, his behavior verged upon reactionary neurosis and mental melt-down. He veered from child molestation charges to weirdly arranged marriages and then baby-dangling episodes. His odd plastic surgery evolution had to be (at least in part) outwardly indicative of his inward mental implosions.

Probably in part as a reaction to all his bad press, he had been treated for pain killers and rushed to the hospital on various occasions. Now if TMZ and various tabloid sources can be trusted, it appears that Jackson was getting daily Demerol injections from a live-in physician. How much emotional or physical pain do you have to be in to require such dosages from a Dr. “Feel Good”? This drug is potent, and Jackson probably cheated death innumerable times before the grim reaper came and stayed.

His death reminded me in some ways of other tormented celebs -- Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley and Judy Garland to be sure. Marilyn was found in “barbiturate coma” a time or two by agents and housekeepers prior to her actual death in 1962. At 42, Elvis was a bloated vestige of his youthful persona -- chowing down peanut butter & banana sandwiches and popping tranquilizers. He also had a Dr Feel Good in the wings at the time of his 1977 death.

What to make of these things? Marilyn was 36, Elvis was 42, Judy was about 47 and MJ was 50. All were around mid-life but still young enough for reinvention and new career moves. A modest being might just be content to do like Greta Garbo -- retire at 38 and live happily off of investments. You’d have lingering mystique and privacy to boot; she certainly did. Somehow with others, the out-size fame and fortune brings out-size expectations… “I’m famous and beautiful, how can I be so alone?”

Michael and Elvis in particular created insular, make-believe worlds even similar in name -- “Graceland” and “Neverland”. Both were surrounded by sycophants, servants and doctors wielding needles and vials with mighty elixirs of sleep and relaxation. One supposes that out-size egos might want out-size medications that exceed the limits of ordinary budgets, FDA laws and even common sense.

It’s a mighty shame, because all of the aforementioned had so much more to give the world -- in spite of low self-esteem moments they might have felt at the times of their demises. I was very much looking forward to a Michael Jackson comeback -- musical redemption was in the offing. We (and they in the beyond) can settle on the weird consolation that the world will never see their bodies buckled with age or faces withered like leather masks. To the athlete (or entertainer) who died young -- we will miss you terribly. Thank you for what you gave us while you were here.

© 2009 blogSpotter

Channeling Perez

2009-06-03T07:19:00.001-07:00

Giving us the scoop and some doodles -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Why do I envy Perez Hilton? Because the nonchalant, 30 year-old publicity hound is one of the world’s most successful bloggers. His real name is Mario Lavandeira and he was born to Cuban American parents in ’78. He’s worn many hats already in his short career. He’s been a GLAAD publicity agent, actor, receptionist and managing editor of Instinct magazine. He finally struck pay dirt with his on-line gossip rag, http://perezhilton.com.

The web site leverages off of Hilton’s LA celebrity connections -- many photos are originals from events that Perez personally attends. Hilton claims the site has received 8.5 million hits in one day, a staggering number. (That would probably bring my site down). His 'stage name' Perez Hilton is an obvious play on Paris Hilton -- a devoted BFF who receives a lot of promotional build-up on Perez’s site.

Others are not so fond of Perez -- his site has been drawn into much controversy. He’s been accused various things -- falsely reporting Castro’s death, playing copyrighted music of Britney Spears, and defaming an LA DJ by reporting a drug arrest. One of his biggest ongoing controversies is the outing of GLBT celebrities who aren’t ready for the spotlight. He so far has maintained that the outing is perfectly OK although civil litigation begs to differ.

The latest Perez brouhaha has been the Miss California controversy where he, as a judge, asked the perky bimbette her opinion on gay marriage. She replied that marriage should be between one man and one woman. There was a media storm that followed when Miss California lost the competition (as a result of how she answered the gay marriage question?). Perez poured gasoline on the fire by referring to Miss California as a 'dumb bitch' on his blog. The controversy whip-sawed a different direction when it turned out that Miss California had posed for some topless photos earlier in her career. ('It was windy').

The bombastic 'angel of mercy' Donald Trump gave Miss California a break for her tawdriness, probably hoping to quell the prior controversy with a little after-the-fact forgiveness, letting her keep the title.

Stir, stir, stir. What have we with Perez? We have an extreme, successful far-out-of-the-closet gossip maven who knows how to work it from a business standpoint. Closeted gays and Christian conservative models would probably do well to stay out of his way. And 5-hits-a-day blogSpotter would do well to capture any part of Perez’s momentum or business know-how.

© 2009 blogSpotter

Craigslist Has Everything

2009-05-01T12:03:00.000-07:00

What do you need? ... -- Picture courtesy of craigslist

by blogSpotter
Craig's list is the "uber" web-based bulletin board service that has dominated the news recently -- because of an alleged craigslist murderer no less. Founded by Craig Newmark of San Francisco in 1995, craigslist is actually unsophisticated in both its appearance and intentions. With a simple text interface, craigslist just lays out all the marketing and social network opportunities for a given metro area -- the style resembles a greensheet or alternative newspaper layout. The service has been drawn into controversy recently because Philip Markoff, a dashing 23 year old medical student, was revealed to be leading a double life as the "craigslist killer".

It seems that this Philip was into gambling and girls (roughing up, robbing and killing said girls for gambling money). Now msnbc added to our knowledge base today, by saying that Philip was also into boys and cross-dressers (Dr. Phil might describe this as being pansexual). This All-American psycho was staunchly defended by his fiancée-in-denial -- "There is no way Philip could have done this," she said in desperate refutation, maybe hoping to preserve her Pottery Barn registration web site.

But investigators had the goods on Philip -- they associated his cell phone calls, his emails, his security camera images and even some "souvenirs" in his apartment with the assaults. Philip's misogynistic actions are not dissimilar to a young man here in Dallas who thought it was OK to run down a prostitute with his car. The only thing lower than a prostitute is a young man who thinks he has the right to judge and dispose of "lesser" people. The driver here in Dallas received the death penalty for his efforts; Philip might get off easier being affluent and white.

The public has been shocked by the craigslist events, illogically blaming craigslist for what happened. There are only a jillion lonely heart clubs, Usenet forums and social networking sites where similar things could've happened. We Americans like freedom of access and freedom of movement -- part of the overhead that comes with that is the risk of "stranger danger". I'm not at all defending Philip or anything that happened -- it's just incumbent upon the parties to take safeguards. Maybe meet in public or tell others who you're meeting.

The Internet has been blamed for many things now -- ponzi schemes, murders, identity theft and statutory rape to name but a few. All of these things were doable (and done) with snail mail, telephone and direct contact. The Internet just sped up the process. The Internet, like most technology is a white magic that enhances life and a simultaneous black magic that brings with it the ability to confound and destroy. Such is also the dual nature of cars, planes, mainframe computers and nuclear power. Does that mean we should banish these technical advances? No it does not. It means we should banish (or arrest as the case may be) our baser selves. And we should rise to the promise of technology -- which when applied towards its best uses, is almost like magic in the great convenience it gives us.

© 2009 blogSpotter

Sibling Revelry

2009-04-04T22:01:00.000-07:00

Madonna as big sister? -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
I just finished listening to Christopher Ciccone’s Life with My Sister Madonna -- I had the book on tape for 6 months before I got to it. I thought it would be boring, but it was actually fascinating. Christopher’s book describes a love-hate sibling rivalry in which the creative, gay Christopher orbits as a satellite around his 2-year older, million-megawatt celebrity sister Madonna. Christopher’s book gives a first-hand look into the frailties, quirks and vulnerabilities of the Material Girl. From 1984 thru 2006 (when a quarrel left them estranged) Christopher was Madonna’s dresser, stage manager, backup dancer, decorator, and moral support. Though he is gay and a brother, I discern that Christopher probably felt like 'first man' in Madonna’s life -- he probably felt usurped when Madonna married English producer Guy Richie who was apparently homophobic and unaccepting of Christopher’s orientation.

Ciccone’s book was generally panned as a disloyal rant from a disgruntled brother and ex-employee. I don’t get that from it at all -- in fact I think Christopher’s book is as much a brotherly love paean as a critique. Christopher and Madonna are both hugely talented and creative -- you can see where some professional jealousies as well as territorial feelings could creep in. I foresee that these two fellow travelers will get back together at some point. Some of Ciccone’s revelations about Madonna actually go counter to her public persona; she doesn’t drink or do drugs and is fairly modest around the house (no slinky gowns or underwear). Ciccone describes his sister as a highly disciplined task master who has total control over her finances and schedules. The 'slutty girl' image is very much a fabrication for publicity. If Ciccone's stories are true, Madonna drew him into her sphere at various points with promises (apartment lodging, production roles) that she would then withdraw. That Ciconne would come running back over and over again reminds me just a little bit of Lucy and Charlie Brown with the football.

It looks like the undoing of the sibling togetherness happened in the mid 90’s when Madonna befriended Ingrid -- a wealthy gossip from Miami who convinced Madonna that Christopher was hopped up on drugs (true, in part but highly exaggerated). Madonna withdrew her patronage from Christopher’s design efforts, and even eventually refused final payment on a couple of the projects she‘d engaged him in. At one point where Madonna was raking in $53 million a year, her poor brother was tanking in his restaurant business, begging rides after his car was repossessed, and scrounging up money for a $10K medical bill.

I don’t see this book as sour grapes. I too have an extremely out-going popular older brother. I spent my teenage and college years being 'Bryan’s brother'. I can tell from Christopher’s account (even his gift with words) that he’s an extremely smart and talented person -- someone who would shine brightly if he wasn’t having to shine next to Venus or the Sun. What I read between the lines is that Christopher and Madonna are soul mates of sorts -- people who have actually accommodated each other’s dysfunctions since a shared childhood. They have a love that can probably survive the nastiest of fights. This book is a great, albeit slightly voyeuristic read. There aren’t so much heroes and villains as much as flesh-and-blood people. There’s no black and white dichotomy -- just a thousand interesting shades of gray.

© 2009 blogSpotter

The Photogenic News

2009-03-04T13:58:00.001-08:00

Too beautiful not to report? -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Newspapers and magazines (old media) are over a barrel these days. As Time pointed out, they were already suffering from internet sites giving all the same stories and insights away for free. Then the September 2008 market crash did nothing to help matters. The mid-January issue of Time had a scant 56 pages, giving immediate testament to the severity of the problem. Their ads have taken a dive.

Now, along comes President Barack Obama and he is truly a God-send to the magazines, given the dire circumstances. Regardless of your political views, Obama is manna from Heaven for Time and Newsweek. Here is why: he and Michelle are stylish, young, photogenic and even a little bit mysterious. My coworker's 5th grade daughter is an Obamaphile along with her entire class -- she has a stack of news magazines featuring Obama on the cover. How can there be such a blatantly "lookist" phenomenon and what might be the implications?

15 years ago, Lady Diana was the talk of the town. Magazine publishers the world over knew that they could boost sales a lot by putting her face on their covers. Magazines like US and PEOPLE could do it unashamedly -- give the people what they want. The tabloids rejoiced, there was no limit to Di-namic media profits. But serious news magazines had a bigger quandary -- how do we work Lady Di into a legitimate news cover story? There were a few things -- her divorce, work with AIDS and land mines and of course her tragic death. News organizations had to "pump it up" to justify much beyond the headline-quality material. Pump they did, because a Diana cover could sell twice as many magazines in one week.

Now come Barack and Michelle. They are probably the first truly attractive, vibrant, chic couple since the Kennedys 46 years ago. (With all due respect to the Clintons, Reagans and others). Not only do they sell magazines, they're the First Couple of the Free World -- Time and Newsweek can pretty easily justify a cover every other week. This brings me to other knotty questions about the obligation of news outlets in a capitalistic system of news-selling. The top tabloid subjects this week are as follows:

* John Mayer and Jennifer Aniston
* Justin Timberlake
* Britney Spears
* Zac Efron
* Tiger Woods
* Angelina Jolie
* Rhianna
* Octuplets Mom
* Academy Awards
* Oprah Love Triangle (alleged)

These are the topics that engage Americans standing in line at Krogers -- hardly material for Meet the Press. I remember being disappointed that PEOPLE shifted to a tabloid style @ 10 years ago. Then, I realized that they actually had stories about heroism, coping and politics toward the back of the magazine. The truth was "out there" -- it just wasn't glamorous or superficial enough to rate a front page appearance. I've noticed very much the same "lowest common denominator" at work in TV and movies -- see my blog, Television for Dummies.

If you like to read WSJ, UTNE Reader, obscure blogs or Newsweek, you are in the minority in so many ways. Not only are you NOT reading the most popular weekly, you are probably demanding a higher quality of analysis, reporting, news-worthiness and even for that matter, grammar. I have no major, Earth-shaking conclusions here except that true news may end up in the domain of non-profits (think PBS, NPR, church, AARP and charity-affiliated magazines).

The all-mighty dollar is less mighty when it turns America into drooling, tabloid sex junkies that care more about J-Lo's cleavage than they do about the credit crisis. It's a free country, so maybe J-Lo's cleavage should get all the air time that the dollar bill requests. Considering the sad state of our economy, J-Lo is probably helping the economic stimulus. But less exciting things like Citibank nationalization should still find a forum in some medium that doesn't have to tart itself up for space at a Kroger's news stand. In my idealistic mind, I think that such a place must exist -- let's please create it if it's not there already.

© 2009 blogSpotter

Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!

2009-02-02T13:41:00.000-08:00

The ex-Brady, looking good -- Picture courtesy of wireimage

by blogSpotter
My early teenage years spanned the late 60's and early 70's. I was from a somewhat dysfunctional family and sought some refuge in the fake comfort of television sitcoms -- Beaver, Hazel and Mayberry RFD to name a few. I was delighted when The Brady Bunch hit the scene-- a show which played on the groovy vibe of the era and focused more on its teen stars than the adult characters. Maureen McCormick played Marcia, the eldest daughter. She played into the popular cheerleader stereotype with a couple of episodes centering around sibling rivalry with Jan (Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!) and vanity (I’ll never date again with these braces!).

Maureen is from a modest and un-Brady background. Her father was a teacher and her mother was a homemaker. She was the youngest of 4 and the only girl. One brother is mentally disabled and lived with the parents until recently. One brother was a ne’er do well who ended up in a protracted lawsuit with Maureen over family assets. Maureen’s maternal grandfather contracted syphilis in WWI and gave it to the grandmother. The grandmother gave the disease to Maureen’s mother in utero and the condition affected her psychologically for life. Maureen worried that she would also show evidence of the disease, needlessly so.

Maureen got her start at age 8, doing Chatty Cathy commercials. From there, the photogenic girl made an easy segue over to Brady Bunch in 1969. Maureen says that her real family was weird enough that she actually found safe haven on the Brady set. She had a partially-requited love with co-star Barry Williams (French kiss while filming Hawaiian episode); she found wonderful surrogate parents in the forms of Florence Henderson, Bob Reed and Anne B. Davis. Anne was in real life much like her Alice character -- a rock of Gibraltar.

The series wrapped in 1974 after 6 wonderfully kitschy years. Maureen fell victim (as did we all?) to the late 70s disco-drug insanity. The pre-Aids polyester era of sex and cocaine drew her into a vortex of addiction, bulimia, one-night stands, and shallow relationships with producers, dealers and actors. She had an abortion at one point because she and the father were barely conscious much less able to birth and raise a child. Maureen is really a sweet, wonderful person when not strung out (in some ways like Marcia sans the Brady clan). Her acting skills never took her far out of the wholesome blonde role so her subsequent career has been mostly TV bit parts (Love Boat, Passions) and B movies (Rerurn to Horror High).

Maureen probably found her best role as mother, wife and rescuer to her family of origin. She renounced drugs and married Michael Cummings (a member of her church) in 1986. They are still married and have a teen daughter, Natalie. Maureen cared for her mother as she ailed from cancer and took custody of her mentally disabled brother. She did end up in a bizarre family feud with her slacker brother Kevin. Kevin conspired with the mentally declining, aged father to try and move a family trust (built mostly from Brady residuals) into his name. It turned into a knock-down drag-out court case -- Maureen actually signed over much of the money before consulting friends, attorneys and other family members.

Well that’s the story .. of a lovely lady -- But I digress. :-) As someone who worshipped at the altar of Marcia, it’s fascinating to see that the real person has bumps and bruises like the rest of but also has come thru in flying colors. Maureen’s most recent TV appearance has been as a contestant on MTV’s Celebrity Fit Club. She lost considerable weight, gained perspective on age and looks and even made amends to someone she’d hated for 30 years -- Marcia Brady. A woman this well put-together doesn’t ever have to compete with a TV fantasy; the real girl is far more impressive.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Sweet Senator Caroline?

2009-01-02T15:09:00.000-08:00

Does Caroline have the right stuff? -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Kennedy scion Caroline has recently thrown her hat into the ring to take over Hillary Clinton's New York senate seat. I'd like to preface my remarks with the statement that I revere the Kennedy family and have profound respect for their contributions to America. After reviewing Caroline's political viewpoints (pro-Choice, pro-Human Rights, etc) I'm very aligned with Ms. Kennedy's political point of view. So you can see my position and probably feel a "but" or a "none the less" headed this way -- and you'd be right.

Caroline Kennedy seems to think that "Senator" is an honorarium given for a combination of family prominence and noble thoughts. I hate to break it to her, but Senator is a job title and it really needs to be earned. It was pointed out on the Today Show this morning that Caroline has never held a long-term, full time job. Mind you, her resume is very impressive. She's a graduate of Radcliffe and Columbia; she has a law degree and sits on many impressive boards: NAACP Legal Defense, American Ballet and the Kennedy Library Foundation to name but a few. But everyday work calls for true grit and tenacity -- the kind that generally comes from holding a position of financial or personal responsibility. Caroline's main two stints of employment were long ago -- as a photography assistant at New York Daily News (@ age 20) and as a part-time research assistant at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Both jobs were before marrying exhibit designer Ed Schlossberg in 1986.

Caroline took a long time out to parent her 3 children (now young adults) and is apparently warming up again to the outside world of working and doing. There is yet another thing to consider -- and this one you must pose delicately. Caroline has a reputation as being quiet, shy and a little bit remote. She's been seen as such since she was a little girl living in the White House. There's nothing wrong with a shy, sweet personality but it's at direct odds with the kind of happy Irish, glad-handing, back-slapping people-centric friendliness of her Uncle Ted.

People have thrown out other examples of politicians who succeeded with little experience in business or in office. (One of them was George W. Bush as Texas Governor -- wouldn't that be a counter-example?). Nay, in both the experience and people department, Caroline is not a match for the job. Her family connections are such that she still may get it, but New York state may not be the winner in that transaction, should it come to pass.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Robot Disclosures ...

2008-12-01T14:58:00.001-08:00

What Wall*E tells us about ourselves -- Picture courtesy of Pixar

by blogSpotter
This weekend I was under the weather so stayed in and watched a lot of movies. One that I watched is Pixar’s WALL*E about a lone (and lonely) sanitation engineering robot. The movie is set far in the future -- where Earth has been horribly polluted and trashed up by an over-consuming society. The humans have fled to a giant mothership (called Axiom) while waiting for robots to clean and de-pollute the Earth for rehabitation.

WALL*E has Pixar’s stunning detail and beauty -- it’s what we’ve come to expect from Pixar. But it has an allegory built in that many adults could stand to see and appreciate. The humans have been living on the Axiom for 700 years. The Axiom is a giant citadel spaceship with fabulous food and amenities for its inhabitants. It looks like a giant futuristic resort hotel inside a humongous space ship. The humans have been ship-bound and weightless for so long, they’ve become inactive and dependent on robot servants. Their bones have atrophied, their bodies have become large and doughy and most of them can’t even walk anymore, they ride around on air scooters.

A certain perniciousness becomes apparent -- the humans all have floating hi-def TV screens in front of their faces. They’ve lost touch with each other. They’re barraged with junk food ads and most are chowing down on shakes or fries while they succumb to the pleasant blandness of TV commercials. It turns out that the robot pilots have slowly fattened and seduced the humans into complacency, with no intention of ever returning to Earth.

I won’t say what all happens (you could safely guess a happy ending and the good guys win). What amazed me about the Axiom society was how much it resembles Dallas in 2008 -- all they did was push it to an extreme. Axiom featured a megalomaniacal corporation called Buy and Large playing a major role in the polluting of Earth, necessitating the cleanup. I challenge people to watch this movie and NOT see a family member among the humans depicted.

Of course the robots are highly humanized and adorable. Walle and Eve (Eve is the bio resurgence detection robot) make a cute couple at the movie’s finale. Pixar even did the impossible and they made a cockroach (Walle’s pet) extremely cute. For any number of reasons -- sci-fi gadgetry, fattened space humans and cute cockroaches, WALL*E is an allegory well worth seeing for people of all ages.

© 2008 blogSpotter

It's the Pictures That Got Small

2008-11-02T19:23:00.000-08:00

Ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille ... -- Picture courtesy of Paramount

by blogSpotter
Turner Classic Movies has become one of my favorite channels now. They run film festivals that honor specific people in the industry such as Alfred Hitchcock or Kirk Douglas. They also run movies without commercial interruptions, with small segments between movies for critics to dissect the movie just seen. It's as if someone created a channel just for the "movie nut". Thank you, Turner Classic.

Two nights ago, I watched one of the best movies ever made (it's in AFI's top 20), Sunset Boulevard. The movie is both a black comedy and a camp classic -- it provided fodder for a Carol Burnett skit many years later. It's considered film noir, although the style and content make it seem newer than 1950. The movie tells the story of Joe Gillis -- a handsome, young, down-on-his-luck Hollywood screenwriter. In running from repo men (chasing him to repossess his car), he dashes into the hidden driveway of Norma Desmond's secluded Sunset Boulevard manse. Norma is a semi-retired silent screen legend, age 50. Norma has a devoted live-in servant Max, a servile and vaguely sinister man also in his senior years. She mistakes Joe for an undertaker (summoned to bury a family "pet") and invites him in. From here, things develop and Joe becomes Norma's personal writer (fixing her unfixable Salome script). Joe ultimately becomes Norma's gigolo boy toy, -- showered with clothes, gifts and unwanted demonstrations of middle-aged, faded-star affection.

I won't rehash the plot much further. Sunset Boulevard is a classic in so many ways -- it has at least two lines of famous dialog:

"I'm still big. It's the pictures that got small".
"I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille."

The movie is fast-paced and witty --- you might have to watch it three times to catch all the repartee. Joe Gillis is cynical and originates quite a few of the lines targeting Hollywood execs. The movie innovated some things -- techniques like filming a man floating face down in a pool, meshing film noir with dark comedy). It also set the bar for other movies (Play Misty For Me, The Player) that deal with women "scorned" and/or Hollywood elites. Even Rocky Horror Picture Show gets a big inspiration from Sunset Boulevard. The script was written and directed by Billy Wilder, a short little rotund Jewish émigré who engineered some of the best movies of the 20th century (Some Like It Hot, The Apartment).

Interesting side notes. Pola Negri was approached for the role of Norma, but her accent was too thick. Mary Pickford was going to be asked but it was determined that she'd be morally incensed by such a role. Greta Garbo thought it was tawdry and beneath her. Gloria Swanson turned out to be the perfect match anyhow -- still beautiful at 50 and intrigued by the part. (In fact, it was the role of a lifetime!) Montgomery Cliff backed out of the part and gave the Joe Gillis role to William Holden -- excellent break for an excellent actor. It's interesting that in 1950, 50 seemed insurmountably old. In 2008, we have Madonna still strutting in tights, and Cher still singing. How old is old anyway?

If you want to watch the quintessential Hollywood story, catch Sunset Boulevard. There is talk that the 1990's Broadway musical version will soon be brought to the screen. Nothing would be better than to see this production in color, with modern actors and a 21st century interpretation.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Brewskies with the Prez

2008-10-04T19:42:00.000-07:00

Drinking with the Prez... -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
As I recall, the operative question in both the 2000 and 2004 Presidential elections was “Who would you rather have a beer with?”. W. Bush was seen as a folksy, accessible “one of us” type guy. Gore was characterized by the Bush camp as an effete, politically correct, enviro-actionary snob. Kerry was similarly seen as a patrician, elitist, rich man who was more taken with Maybach automobiles than with middle class issues.

The fact is that the Bush family is one of the oldest, wealthiest, most “patrician” families in America. W. Bush is worth millions and he’s also a Harvard graduate. He did spend a great portion of his early years in Midland, Texas which probably helped give shape to his Texas twang. His slightly crossed eyes, which convey the opposite of intellect, can probably be credited to some unusual combination of chromosomes from his parents, George and Barbara Bush.

It was with particular satisfaction in 2004 that conservative pundits publicized statistics that most Americans (in the thrall of shows like American Idol and Survivor Fiji) would rather take a car ride or share a frosted mug with Bush than with Kerry. I will admit myself that an American President should be convivial and approachable; never did I think however that the requirements for this noble office would devolve only to that. I will also admit there is a distinction between the qualities of being book-smart and people-smart – we’ve had Presidents who amply exhibited one or the other, sometimes both. Reagan and Clinton were people smart – Carter was probably more of a wonkish policy nerd. W. Bush, regrettably seems to lack both qualities; his Texas macho is far from showing the personal, people-smart touch; he’s always lacked intellectual curiosity in the extreme.

A writer for the New York Times (can’t recall his name) recently referred to the Bush trifecta:
• Iraq War
• Katrina disaster
• September 2008 Market Meltdown

To be fair, the Clinton administration got the ball rolling on thrift loans. But it took eight years of a self-regulated derivatives-loving Wall Street to get where we are right now. If I could travel back in time, there are probably several Presidents I’d like to chat with (Lincoln being the foremost). We might even have beer (although mine would be a non-alcoholic beverage). That quality – convivial drinking in a bar – is far from what I’d ever use as a quality Presidential gauge. Who would you rather have a beer with now? If W still drank, he’d be crying in his.

The $700 billion bail-out has been passed in Congress, but CNBC financial analysts estimate that it will take a minimum of one month to give adequate electro-shock to our markets. That’s about the time left until Election Day. America, please turn off Dancing With the Stars for five minutes and give serious consideration this time to what we are doing. It’s more than a drinking buddy.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Is Palin the Ultimate Pander?

2008-09-02T12:52:00.000-07:00

McCain and the new Veep candidate -- Picture courtesy of McCain for President

by blogSpotter
I'm in a position that previously derided when other people were in it -- I'm absolutely undecided about who to vote for in the 2008 presidential election. In previous years, I really thought undecideds should have "stupid" stamped across their foreheads ... how could they not hew to a party’s direction even if they're not in love with the candidate? That was then, this is now. This year, we have a centrist Republican ("McSame") running against a reputedly uber-liberal Democrat -- but one who has shape-shifted a lot on the campaign trail.

I would normally vote Democratic, but I'm stopped in my tracks by a candidate who won his scant Senate time on a fluke (opponent was taken down by a sex scandal). Also, this candidate comes across to me as glib, insincere, inexperienced and untrustworthy. I think W Bush showed us how horrific a political "newby" can be -- why would we bring another one to the White House? Joe Biden is a consummate DC insider and does very little to ease the "used car" quality I'm seeing at the top of the ticket.

Now the GOP convention in Saint Paul is being overshadowed by a storm. No, not Hurricane Gustav but rather Alaska Governor Sarah Palin and qualifications to run for the office of VP. She’s garnered the anger of Hillary-brand feminists who feel that McCain’s choice of Palin is the ultimate pander. She’s pro-life, pro-NRA, and apparently pro-creationism. By one account, I actually heard that she said that opposite views should be heard, not precisely that creationism should be part of the curriculum.

Now adding fuel to the fire of conservative ire is Palin’s 17-year old daughter Bristol; she’s unmarried and 5 months pregnant. Palin’s husband had a DWI 22 years ago. (Excuse me, didn’t W Bush have a DWI in 1976?). She apparently voted for the 'Bridge to Nowhere' before she voted against it. And she’s under investigation for trying to fire a state official in a matter concerning her sister’s divorce. We almost have enough plot elements here to start a CBS mini-series; but none of the aforementioned family issues would dissuade me from voting for someone -- maybe I’m OK with high drama and ordinary human missteps.

The biggest complaint against Palin is that she has a thin resume. I must ask, thinner than Obama’s? Conservatives are irritated that McCain has taken experience off the table as a campaign issue -- one of the few issues that he owned. Others fret that a 72 year-old with 3 cancer recurrences may be a heartbeat away from being permanently away.

I don’t know at this point. Several of our Supreme Court justices are elderly and close to either retirement or the Great Beyond. Maybe I’ll hold my nose and vote a party line in the hope that something is salvaged -- if only some good Supremes.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Mamma Mia -- a must-see for ABBA Fans

2008-08-01T12:33:00.000-07:00

Donna and Sam share a moment -- Picture courtesy of Universal

by blogSpotter
This weekend I gave my self an audiovisual treat in the form of Universal Picture's Mamma Mia. The movie is based on the long-running play which itself is a pretext for putting a fun (if not profound) plot around some campy ABBA 70's hits. Where the play was claustrophobic, the movie has the backdrop of beautiful Greek Isles. Several friends beat me to the movie and told me all about it -- across the board, they all loved it.

The plot centers on a bride-to-be, Sophie, who sends wedding invitations to all three of the men her mother Donna (played by Streep) slept with the summer she was conceived. Sophie is hoping to discover which of the men is her father. Drama ensues when all 3 men, as well as various other wedding "party animals" show up for the nuptials. Donna's friends Tanya and Rosie balance out the cast; Tanya is played by the hilarious Christine Baranski -- I've missed her brand of humor since Cybil and Bird Cage.

I won't deconstruct this movie the way I might with something more complex -- this movie is eye and ear candy most of all. But I'll share some observations. The songs are "backed in" to the situations sometimes justified only by a main lyric. "Lay All Your Love on Me" is actually a sad song, sung by a love-obsessed woman. Here, it's a beach party anthem. "Winner Takes it All" is another sad song by a woman whose lost out in a love triangle -- in this movie it's a romantic ballad leading up to a proposal. Sometimes the fit of the lyrics to the situation is so jarring it makes the audience laugh. The audience also laughs at Pierce Brosnan's version of "SOS", but I actually think he carries the notes OK. He's also excellent as Sam, the principal ex-suitor. Meryl Streep is a surprisingly agile dancer and also a good singer -- she's basically the focal point of the show.

Mamma Mia brings back the color and vitality of a 50's musical; probably the last time the audience had this much fun was when Grease came out in 1978. Hairspray from 2007 comes close, but not as much audience involvement. The late-middle aged grandma sitting next to me was singing along to many of the songs. Mamma Mia has strong potential to become a sing-along movie like Sound of Music. I also forgot about the gay angle -- Colin Firth plays Harry, a handsome stockbroker; it turns out that Donna was the last woman he ever loved, that certain summer. At the end of the movie, the cast breaks into a dance that easily could feature the Village People, shirtless.

In sum, Mamma Mia has romantic plotlines for us oldies-but-goodies and music that anyone born in the last 40 years should be able to hum if not sing. The group ABBA has ascended to pop culture icon status through all of this and deservedly so. If you want to spend two hours in a totally escapist, musical Playland, you can do no better than seeing this ABBA-solutely fabulous movie.

© 2008 blogSpotter

DC Vacation

2008-07-10T07:20:00.000-07:00

The enormous Lincoln Memorial -- Picture by blogSpotter

by blogSpotter
Following is a short diary of my 4-day vacation to Washington D.C. over July 4th weekend. I went with my friend Eric and my brother Bryan flew in from Seattle to meet us. The city is incredible and we had a good time. Following are the details. Enjoy!

THURSDAY JULY 3RD

Eric and I caught an early 8:20 flight (had to get up at 4:45, egad) to DC. We checked into the Hotel Rouge near Dupont Circle at @ 2PM. Hotel Rouge is a gray brick 1950's building that's been completely gutted and remodeled in a contemporary style (all furniture in shades of orange, pink and red). It's a great location, close to Union metro, fashionable clubs and restaurants. We visited Kramer Books on Dupont Circle. Kramer’s is college-oriented and very trendy -- it also has a historical footnote as the bookstore subpoenaed by Ken Starr for Monica Lewinsky's purchase history. Eric and I had a late lunch at Kramer's sidewalk cafe called Afterwords. We were served by a flaky aging hippy but the quesadillas were excellent.

We then took the metro to the National Mall where I was overwhelmed by the huge proportions of it all. The mall must be a minimum of 2 miles in length and you can easily wear down walking the whole perimeter. We just took in the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History and returned to our hotel for 'disco' naps. Bryan arrived shortly after that and we met up at Jack's Cafe on 17th Street. Bryan was served a beer he didn't like; it was comped. Then, the waiter spilled a glass of tea on Eric. As we left, we remarked that the beer was on the waiter and the tea was on Eric.

We went to Juniors (nearby nightclub) on 17th street right after this; I must say I like the ambience of DC. The clean cut J Crew look is still popular -- we saw next to no one with barbed-wire tattoos, shaved heads, steroidal muscles or other extreme looks we've seen a lot of in Dallas. No one was "X-ing" and no one was going to a White Party. Pleasant change in the scenery to say the least. We went to Cobalt two blocks down afterwards -- it was horribly overcrowded with a very young crowd. The Fire Marshall should be after that place; I left and went back to my room after @ 10 minutes of that. Stopped by the all-nite CVS for mandatory junk food and called it a day.

The Korean War Memorial -- Picture by blogSpotter

FRIDAY JULY 4TH

We had waffles and eggs at a great "greasy spoon" place, Luna Grille, recommended by the hotel desk clerk. We then walked down to the National Mall and toured the WWII, Korean and Viet Nam memorials. We saw the Lincoln Memorial which is huger than huge -- easily 200 feet high. We stopped and noshed on greasy, over-priced hot dogs and then looked at the beautiful American Indian Museum (completed in 2004). This one is worth seeing for the building as well as the artifacts. Rain started falling, so we caught a cab back to Hotel Rouge.

Timely interjection: Washington is very temperate; it has pleasant weather and frequent rainfall -- very green and verdurant. There were towering trees the whole way from Dulles to DC. I remarked to Eric that they have more trees on a random square acre than we have in a square mile of Dallas. We were rained on 3 times but they were quick summer showers that came and went.

That afternoon we attended the Hotel happy hour. Bryan had red wine; Eric and I had Izze pomegranate soda which tastes kind of like champagne -- very good. That night we had a sampler plate dinner at Meze Turkish Cafe in Adams-Morgan, also good. It was pricey, but DC is pricey as a rule -- have to be ready for that. After eating, we went back to Juniors which was packed. One fellow was slumping and had too much to drink (but still conscious). His friend got in back of him and started moving his arms like a puppeteer. He (or they?) was touching, groping, tapping and doing all manner of inappropriate things to people going by. Have to say I laughed a lot -- maybe I'm easily entertained. Didn't know you could use a live human as a puppet. From here we walked to Omega, a sleazy pickup joint that I tolerated for only a few minutes before calling it a night and returning to the hotel.

SATURDAY JULY 5TH

I had coffee and newspaper at Caribou Coffee, before Bryan and Eric even awakened. Caribou is a trendy coffee place a la Starbucks but less expensive. Very nice crowd and the coffee was good. After joining up with Eric and Bryan we got on the Hop-On Hop-Off bus tour at Union Station. For much of the ride we rode on the open upper deck and enjoyed the cool air rushing over us. We stopped at National Cathedral and then in Georgetown. Georgetown is an upscale district where we went to Martin's Tavern -- place where JFK proposed to Jackie. We got back on the bus and debarked at Arlington National Cemetery. This cemetery was Robert E Lee's plantation prior to the Civil War -- amazing in its size and grandeur. The Lee mansion still sits impressively on a high hilltop. Here we saw, JFK's grave and the Tomb of the Unknown soldier among other things. The cemetery was the last part of our tour, and we returned to the hotel for a much needed rest. A bit later we met up again for dinner. We had light meals (walnut salad for me) at the 17th Street cafe and went back to Juniors. The crowd was less good, or maybe I was tired. We took a cab over to the DC Eagle but I couldn't get in wearing flip-flops. I took a cab back to the hotel and took the Eagle's rejection as a sign that I should call it a night and relax in the hotel room.

Bryan sympathizing with the cheetahs -- Picture by blogSpotter

SUNDAY JULY 6TH

We had a repeat breakfast at Luna Grille; this might be a habit if I lived there. Luna Grille is near Dupont Circle, gets a fun crowd and has good food at reasonable prices. From here, we took the metro to the Holocaust Museum where we spent a good 2.5 hours. I've seen much of the subject matter before on PBS specials and such, but this was pretty overwhelming. One exhibit showed a huge pile of victims' shoes recovered from the ovens (they were sooty but still recognizable as shoes). After this thought provoking albeit disturbing museum, we took the metro all the way up to Woodley-Park where we saw the National Zoo -- one of the best in the nation. By the way, did I mention that all these exhibits are FREE? In DC, most of the museums have permanent endowment funds that allow tourists free access.

The National Zoo was gorgeous -- we spent lots of time at the panda exhibit since that's one of the main attractions. It started to pour rain so we grabbed a cab and went back to Hotel Rouge. We regrouped and later went out to dinner at La Tomate. La Tomate is a pricey, fashionable Italian bistro on Dupont Circle where Chelsea Clinton went on her first date. These tidbits of history made everything more interesting. The food (seafood fettuccine for me) was good but you get small portions for the grand price. We went back to our same clubs this night and we figure it was just an off night -- everything was kind of dead. Called it an evening pretty early since the next day was a travel day.

MONDAY JULY 7TH

Bryan wanted to experience Kramer's Cafe so we went back there. The service was slow again, but the food and crowd made it worth the wait. Alas, Bryan checked out and departed the Hotel at 10:30 to return to Seattle. Eric and I still had a whole day to kill prior to our 8:30PM flight. We went to see the White House -- turns out you can't just buy a ticket anymore. Since 9/11, you must get a letter from your Congressman, six months in advance. In place of that, you can go to the White House Visitors' center (cattycorner to the real deal) and see exhibits of everything. From here, we walked over to the Smithsonian Museum of Flight and Aerospace. This museum oddly had the biggest crowd of all. Apparently a lot of people are excited by planes, missiles and rockets. They also had rides and simulators that appeal a lot to kids.

From here we went back to Hotel Rouge and the Hotel provided us a Lincoln Town Car limousine as our return vehicle. (No extra charge for the limo). Eric and I enjoyed the luxury. Our plane was delayed an hour due to weather, but we finally got back to Dallas @ 1AM central time.

OVERALL

DC is a beautiful city; it is fitting that the most powerful nation on earth should have at least one city with such grandeur and such impressive architecture. In places it reminds me of the grand boulevards you might see in Prague, Paris or Berlin. It turns out that much of the original city was designed by a French-born architect (and urban planning pioneer) Pierre L'Enfant. Everything is larger, grander in scope than I ever imagined just from postcards and history books. I figure that a city like this would be very livable. We all enjoyed our trip and would easily go back to catch the hundred things we missed on this one.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Only Swingers Need Apply

2008-07-02T06:47:00.000-07:00

Twisting the night away -- Picture courtesy of CBS

by blogSpotter

What is America coming to? I’ve now caught 3 episodes of CBS’s new dramedy Swingtown, and I have to say we're headed in a shocking direction. Now, I couldn’t be too shocked or I wouldn’t have sat through 3 complete episodes. Swingtown is set in an upscale Chicago suburb in the mid 1970’s. The website summary talks about 3 couples exploring new attitudes and choices at the precipice of change.

In fact, the title tells it all -- Swingtown is about 3 couples discovering that they can swing with each other. Yes, in the sexual sense of that word. Set against the polyester, disco backdrop of the 1970’s, this show purports to show the swinging attitudes that we had back in the 70’s. Bruce and Susan Miller move across the street from libertine couple Tom and Trina Decker. At a block party, the Millers get drawn into the Decker’s tawdry web. In last week’s episode, the web caught more victims of moral indecision -- the Miller’s old friends, the Thompson’s, stumbled upon the Decker’s wife-swapping shenanigans at a vacation cabin.

The only problem with the show’s concept is that this facile situation never existed -- it’s a 70’s that never was. If anything, the freewheeling 2000’s with Craig’s list and Internet chat rooms would be much more an accurate setting for this debauchery. But I digress with this line of judgmental thoughts -- the show is immensely entertaining. In some ways, it reminds me of soft core, woman-oriented pornography. All we lack is someone spilling wine on the lap of the pizza delivery boy.

The show actually redeems itself a little bit (from the credibility standpoint) with the plot lines of the children. The Miller’s daughter has a nascent affair developing with her teacher and the Thompson’s son is helping a neighbor girl with a dysfunctional mother. The attitude of Swingtown is much like that of Desperate Housewives. It’s a wink-wink dramedy that’s much likelier to elicit laughter than serious critique.

If your moral senses are easily offended, do not tune in on Thursday nights. The American Family Association and the Parent’s TV Council have both already moved to protest this show and boycott its advertisers. Swingtown is the creation of Mike Kelley, who’s already played with our moral compass in shows like Big Love and Rome. If you can enjoy something with about the depth and credibility of a Harlequin romance, (but heightened giggle factor), by all means tune into Swingtown.

Sex Returns to the Big Apple

2008-06-01T20:16:00.000-07:00

The sassy, classy ladies return -- Pictures courtesy of New Line Cinema

by blogSpotter
Before launching into my movie review, I’d like to comment on a couple of other current events. The Democratic National Committee decided this weekend to count only half of the Florida/Michigan delegates much to the dismay of Clinton’s campaign. Clinton is challenging the ruling, and one can only hope that it goes the all the way to Denver. Speaking impartially of course. :-) Scott McClellan’s bombshell book, What Happened, is still causing reverberations. I had some sympathy for the man until I found out he may support Obama in 2008. Now the press hounds, talking heads and GOP pillars will just have to have their way with him.

SEX (and the city)

I was too cheap to pay for HBO when this TV show was in its original run from 1998 to 2004. However, TBS graced us with back-to-back airings of the entire series (minus the R-rated scenes) in syndication, since 2004. Loosely based on Candace Bushnell’s New York Observer 'Sex' column, SITC tells the story of four reasonably liberated career women who are navigating the social mores of the late 90’s. We have Charlotte, the sweet traditionalist, Miranda the cynical lawyer, Samantha the libertine publicist and Carrie the sensitive writer.

In its 6 year run, the show was actually about way more than merely sex -- it was about life, career choices, friendship, priorities, aging and many other things. The show was seen as an estrogen-filled hour of female entertainment, but there is actually enough variant material that men could easily find it watchable too. In fact, there were dire predictions that only women would flock to the movie’s Dallas premiere. Wrongo –- there were quite a few men (yes, a lot of them gay).

Speaking of the movie premiere, SITC just came back to us as a movie in 2008. It was a 4-year reunion with all our favorite characters and their boyfriends/husbands. The main plotline is a contrivance -– Mr. Big gets cold feet and stands Carrie up at there overly orchestrated wedding ceremony. But overall, the real point is to get all these sassy ladies back in a trendy restaurant, wearing Vogue fashions and cracking wise. Hope I’m not spoiling to much to say that everything works out in the end. The only shocker was a fairly graphic scene of Steve and Miranda having make-up sex.

I saw the movie at the North Park AMC, and it was a boon to every business around. Luna, Kona Grill and TGIF were all having specials on Cosmopolitans and Skye Vodka. Every bistro was overflowing with boozy Carrie wannabe’s, tag-along boyfriends and gay men (maybe fulfilling the role of Sanford). SITC is a cultural touchstone –- it says a lot about our evolving social and sexual world. The movie made for a rollicking Friday evening; a good time was had by all, catching up with old friends.

© 2008 blogSpotter >

Hillary in the No-Spin Zone

2008-05-01T14:00:00.000-07:00

Hill meets another Bill -- Picture courtesy of Fox

by blogSpotter
I actually watched Bill O'Reilly's No-Spin Zone last night. For the first time, it wasn't because my treadmill at 24 Hour Fitness was positioned under a TV airing the show. No, I actually watched it at home. Now Mr. O'Reilly has been cited by others as one of the vocal minority who gives conservatives a bad name (eg, Anne Coulter and Rush Limbaugh). For whatever reason, I've never been entranced by him in any way. His main distinguishing trait is that he's a little bit "scrappier" with some of his liberal guests than other hosts might be. He's otherwise known for a sexual harassment suit of a few years back.

My reason for watching was, of course, to see m'lady Hillary as the guest. It's probably no coincidence that she decided to come on No-Spin Zone just as Obama's campaign is getting torpedo strikes from Obama's ex-pastor Jeremiah Wright. According to some insiders, Wright was hurt when Obama removed him from the 2007 campaign announcement ceremony. Insult was added to injury when Obama disavowed some of Wright's words and politely distanced himself back in March. It was only a matter of time until Wright could no longer bear these wrongs and let the world know that Obama was only speaking "as a politician". Truer words were never said.

O'Reilly immediately asked Hillary about the Wright controversy, and she used it as an ample opportunity to express her disapproval of Wright's ideas, as well as to express relief for Obama that he finally resolved that issue. This interview was part 1 of 4, and fairly short. Other topics discussed were the Bush tax cuts and fuel prices. They basically "agreed to disagree" on about every topic without any trace of vitriol or raised voices. Overall, the interview was very civil -- even at some points convivial. O'Reilly and Clinton are close in age and have both been cultural lightening rods. It almost looked like a very odd form of friendship or connection at work. Imagine a conservative liking a liberal or vice versa! Of course, there is lefty policy wonk James Carville married to right-wing wonkette Mary Matalin. And actually -- quite a few other examples besides that. Not to imply that this is a budding romance or anything... people can just be friends! :-)

Hillary wore a bright pink ensemble which varies somewhat from her usual navy pinstripes and gray tweeds. This may have been to boost her image with the FOX News audience. It looked pretty good and maybe she should also run it by the folks at CNN and MSNBC. Following the interview were FOX talking heads (Dennis Miller, Dick Morris) giving their spins on the spin. Miller thought O'Reilly was too nice, that he used kid gloves. Morris cynically suggested that Hillary knows she's lost -- she's just beating up on Obama so she can run again in 2012. BS to both. O'Reilly respectfully disagreed with Hillary on just about everything. And Hillary wouldn't waste that much time, energy and money on someone else's demise.

So, let's tune in for the follow-up interviews. Will the gloves come off? Will Hill become friends with a new Bill? We'll have to see on Fox News.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Avoiding the Worst-Dressed List

2008-04-03T20:17:00.000-07:00

Or is that a faux pas? -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter

I am very far from being a fashion plate. I couldn't ever be an editor at GQ magazine or even the men's wear section in Exercise for Men. But in the great whirl of daily life, I have seen the fashion follies of nerds and even heard the cruel remarks that are made about the fashion-disadvantaged. This is a very practical list of guidelines for someone who isn't clothing or looks-centered but nevertheless wants to "present" acceptably. You've heard of Robert's Rules of Order -- these are Robert's Rules of Avoiding Fashion Exile:

1. Cleanliness is next to Godliness - There is no bigger turnoff than halitosis, body odor, greasy hair or dandruff. I've heard some males in particular imply that cologne is unmanly. I myself would rather smell like Paco Rabanne or even Old Spice than smell like an armpit. Even if you are of the group that abhors cologne (due to allergy or fear of appearing effeminate) you should know that people in general and women in particular like a nice fragrance. Even if you don't have the light, woodsy scent of Calvin Klein cologne, at least smell vaguely clean. The waft of freshly laundered clothes or Irish Spring is far better than funky shirt and smelly under arms.

2. Be within the decade. Only the idle rich or shallow can spend lots of time and money primping in mirrors and trying on clothes. It's true that the clothes don't make the man. BUT --- if you start to resemble a street urchin you might be "unmade" by people who avoid being seen with a big nerd. You don't have to be up-to-the-minute trendy; just make sure your clothes are in a moving 10-year window of current fashion. Suspenders were fun in 1986 -- now they're not. Stone-wash oversize jackets were hot once upon a time; now it looks like a thrift store purchase.

3. Stick with classics, and let the store clerk help. Display mannequins sometimes give a giant hint about what colors and styles go together. You can hardly go wrong with traditional (yes "square") items. Stay AWAY from the teen department and be age appropriate. Expensive, high fashion garments when inappropriately donned, will elicit laughter and hurtful, mocking words. :-) Good, traditional brand identities can help steer you the right way: Izod, Arrow, Levis, Timberland, J. Crew etc. Don't buy extensively (much less exclusively) from discount stores and thrift stores. A reputation is at stake!

4. Buy clothes that fit and replace them when they don't fit any longer. DON'T wear high water pants. DON"T wear threadbare clothes that need replacing. DON'T wear the same item so frequently that people wonder if you have anything else. I had a college physics professor, a nice woman, who only ever wore two dresses. One was blue, one was green and they were otherwise identical. We would place bets on which dress she'd wear on a given day. Who knows, maybe she had a walk-in closet with 50 look-alike dresses.

5. Don’t be too much of an iconoclast. People have different "inner selves" that they may want to express with fashion quirks. The problem is that sometimes an external expression can be garbled, much like a verbal expression. Thus, your studded black belt makes you look like a jaded S&M freak, not a tough guy. A shaved head can call to mind skin heads and Neo-Nazis; sometimes a buzz (or burr) cut gives you the same low maintenance without frightening the ACLU. Other looks that happen by happenstance are: waif, pirate, Amish villager and halfway house denizen. Unless you really are an S&M freak, waif, pirate, Amish villager or halfway house denizen, dial back on the individuality some.

In general, the ideas here are fairly obvious. I think that people who are bright and creative (OK, myself included) sometimes get so lost in the stratosphere of thought, they never alight to the bionosphere of ordinary living and interacting. So you're not Tommy Hilfiger or Ralph Lauren -- nobody gives a hoot about that anyway. You're clean, refreshed and nicely, albeit casually groomed? That's all that matters, and that's a look that works.

'65 Love Affair

2008-03-01T22:43:00.000-08:00

The year it all changed -- Picture courtesy of ABC

by blogSpotter
I've always been fascinated by change -- not change for the sake of change, but real, progressive change. We see it everywhere and yet much of the time the changes are unsubstantial or stylistic in nature. I'd like to discuss a year, 1965, when very nearly everything changed. To be sure, 1965 was a year of stylistic changes -- '65 automobiles phased from a chrome-laden rocket style over to smooth, geometric lines. Young women and men became suddenly "mod", sporting bangs and Beatle boots. The major networks began showing all broadcasts in living color for fall of '65 and we were graced with the first airing of A Charlie Brown Christmas. Along with all of this, Gemini 2 was launched as part of the ambitious NASA space program.

All of these were visual cues to accompany the sea changes that were unfolding all around. President Johnson described his "Great Society" in the '65 State of the Union address. He signed the Social Security Act of 1965, establishing Medicaid and Medicare and simultaneously declared a War on Poverty. August of that year, he signed the Voting Rights Act into law. Some of the most influential legislation of modern times came to us in these few short months. 1965 was a momentous year in the struggle for civil rights. Martin Luther King and 35,000 civil rights activists marched from Selma, Alabama to Montgomery. Malcolm X was assassinated on the first day of National Brotherhood Week, and the Watts Riots broke out in Los Angeles.

The Viet Nam War was starting to dominate the news. In May, Berkeley staged a teach-in of 30,000 in which draft cards were observed being burned. In reaction, Johnson signed a law making draft-card burning punishable by 5 years in prison. The Pentagon informed Johnson that a major sweep of Viet Cong operations would call for an increase of troops from 120,000 to 400,000. Johnson followed this advice and the escalated war later became his political undoing.

The music of 1965 pop culture was a direct reaction to the turbulent times. Bob Dylan shocked fellow folk artists by using an electric guitar at the Newport Folk Festival. That August, he released Highway 61 Revisited which featured his magnum opus "Like a Rolling Stone". Meanwhile the Beatles were appearing at Shea Stadium and Jefferson Airplane debuted at the Matrix in San Francisco. Not all music was about war protest, to be sure, but the message of change was compelling nonetheless.

The events I just described here would make for a busy decade nowadays --- everything that could possibly change did so, and in grand scale. Someone coming out of a one year coma on 1/1/1966 might have trouble recognizing or reconciling a few things in the room. In 2008, we can only get excited by a new gizmo (iPhone) or maybe a writers' strike. While I'm by no means an Obama groupie, it might just be that Obama's ascendancy is some kind of reviving jolt to the political senses -- maybe an America striving to rediscover its activist past. We surely don't savor the idea of public assassinations or war escalation, but we probably relish the idea of being "relevant" once more -- the crackling energy of ideals in action. 1965 was such a period, and and we can hope that 2008 or 2009 reenergizes us once more.

© 2008 blogSpotter

The Family Guy Buzz

2008-02-03T11:46:00.000-08:00

Peter and Lois in a musical moment -- Picture courtesy of FOX TV

by blogSpotter

BUT FIRST A QUICK LOOK AT CURRENT EVENTS

There's a lot going on in the news, so I'll make this a combo "current events -- TV review" article. Obama just beat Hillary in South Carolina this weekend. Good for him, but I think Hillary will prevail hereon. Maybe I'm wrong. Rolling Stone has an article this week titled "Blame Pedro". In it, author Tim Dickinson points out that the GOP is shooting itself in the foot by demonizing Mexican immigrants. More than 9 million Latinos are expected to vote in this year's election and there is a conundrum. GOP candidates are bashing immigration to get nominated, but may have to "turn tail" when they actually want to court the Latino vote this autumn. Oh what a web we weave.... I was shocked, like everyone else at the untimely death of Heath Ledger last week. It appears he overdosed on a variety of prescription drugs including Ambien. Ledger, the handsome sought-after star, had the whole world in his hands -- his girlfriend (and mother of his daughter Matilda) only left him momentarily and conditionally; she wanted him to quit using heroin. If ever something called to mind the "Richard Corey" poem it is this tragedy.

OK, this is a wrap on my current headline review.

FAMILY GUY

Back in September '05, I did a review of FOX shows, including Family Guy. I praised the show for its originality but then retracted the "kudos" a month later when Family Guy showed cruelty toward animals. I still do not sanction that, but I must confess that I keep watching the show; its approach to everything else is bold and brash to say the least. Family Guy is now syndicated on TBS as well as other independent stations -- you can probably catch it at least 4 times a night. Something with this kind of presence on the schedule calls for an investigation. What my investigation suggests is that the show has extremely crass, laugh-out-loud gimmicks that should appeal to any frat house. The show takes no prisoners and aims its guns at everything from religion to marriage and all that is sacred. Much of the humor is in the form of pop culture segues that can only be funny to someone who keeps up a wee tad with current personalities and events. The frat that watches this show needs to have some RTF majors to explain some of the jokes.

Who do I love on the show? I love the musical numbers, of which there are many. They even did “Shipoopi” from Music Man. I also have to confess to liking Stewie the scheming babie (with a British Mayfair accent) and Brian the talking family dog. Brian evinces the most maturity although in one episode he still needed house training and he has a "bestial" crush on Lois the mother. Chris is the pimply goober son, and Meg is the nerd daughter who is overshadowed by her sexy mother Lois. Many people have likened Family Guy to The Simpsons but the shows are very dissimilar. The only real similarity is that Peter, the man of the house is made out to be a selfish clown much like Homer Simpson. Their antics are different tough -- Family Guy veers wildly off-road doing jokes about aborted fetuses, Jesus and other topics that Simpsons wouldn't touch. Simpsons is your silly uncle that you can laugh with, but don't take too seriously. Family Guy is your crazy uncle that needs to keep taking the Thorazine, talk to him at your own risk.

And apparently many people, particularly college kids, Gen Y and Gen X are willing to risk the crazy, nay, demented humor of the Griffin family. The show probably appeals more to men than women -- they have lots of commercials for Jack in the Box. The "guy" humor includes lots of violence, hitting and occasional cruelty to animals. I don't like that angle but it is cartoon in nature -- it's played "for laughs" and not real. The other aspects of the show will test you in every way. If you have a high threshold for being offended, give this show a look. You'll laugh, be horrified, and laugh again.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Serious Look at a Wild & Crazy Guy

2008-01-01T09:14:00.000-08:00

Steve Martin reflects on his life -- Picture courtesy of Scribner

by blogSpotter
I'm almost finished listening to Steve Martin's memoir "Born Standing Up". Given Martin's driven, extroverted nature the title is nearly an accurate statement. From the time Martin was in a 2nd grade school play, he craved the spotlight and performing in front of big crowds. Martin says that he was shy under normal circumstances, but audiences didn’t bother him. Other disclosures about Martin's early life were not all that exciting. His parents were Glenn, a real estate agent and Mary Lee, a housewife. He was born in Waco but the family moved to Garden Grove California shortly thereafter. Martin revealed that his father was fairly cold and distant and they had a strained relationship.

Martin worked as a teen at the Disney Magic Shop, selling magic kits. Later, he worked at the Bird Cage in Knott's Berry Farm doing a magic act that he'd developed while selling the kits. Early on, Martin wanted to be a serious magician or maybe even a singer. His singing career was blunted in elementary school -- Martin sang "America the Beautiful" for his mother and she laughed so hard that she cried. In his magic act, Martin noticed that people laughed at his comic asides and that he almost got a better audience reaction if the magic trick failed. Gradually, Martin came to see that his gift was with quirky comic irony, and not with magic. His actual emergence into comedy was slow and winding process over the 10 years following high school.

Martin studied philosophy and theater, first at California State and then at UCLA. He never completed a degree since his performing career intervened. He started out with a beard and scruffy clothes, doing left-wing political humor. By his mid-20's, he decided that the political humor was passé and limiting -- he left it completely behind. He honed a more conservative image with a 3-piece white gabardine suit and short haircut. Martin says that he was honoring the advice of an experienced club manager: "Always dress better than your audience".

Martin supplemented his meager stand-up income by working as a comedy writer for The Smothers Brothers, The Glenn Campbell Goodtime Hour and The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour. He landed 16 appearances on The Tonight Show; he was crest-fallen when he heard through the grapevine that Carson thought his humor was too silly. For several of the Tonight Show appearances, Martin was only allowed to appear when there was a guest host. Carson later came around to liking Martin's humor (by the mid 1970's) and actually boosted his career at that point.

Martin tried recreational substances on a couple of occasions, had bad reactions and never touched them again. He actually experienced repeated anxiety attacks as the result of one dalliance with amyl nitrate. He also was a very light drinker, not liking how even one drink could affect his performance. There are details to his biography that will make one envious. He knew the Eagles as they were forming their group -- even offered feedback on the group's name ("Eagles" vs "The Eagles"). He dated Linda Ronstadt at the height of her popularity and he even had Fleetwood Mac as his opening act when he first started to headline at nightclubs.

Martin's personal life has been pretty stable and undramatic, considering the turmoil of his comic persona. He's had two marriages (Victoria Tennant 1986-1994) and Anne Stringfield (2007-present). He dabbles in art and actually has a very serious side to him.

Before signing off, here is some background on his trademark slogans and tactics:
• I'm a wild and crazy guy -- he would go into the routine when his act was bombing; it frequently brought everyone back around.
• Well excuuuse me -- the finale to an act where he told the camera man before the show to ignore his pleas for a spotlight. (very big laugh-getter).
• Arrow-through-head prop -- Part of Martin's act from the beginning; a couple of club owners who didn't get his humor told him to lose it.

The memoir deals mostly with Martin's early career, although his first stint on Saturday Night Live is mentioned (along with the rock star following that resulted). All told, Steve Martin has had a terrific career and life. Someone this complex, brilliant and driven should expect nothing less.

© 2008 blogSpotter

Office Party

2007-12-01T19:41:00.000-08:00

Jan and Michael share a tender moment -- Picture courtesy of NBC

by blogSpotter
One of my favorite television shows this season is The Office on NBC. The show is in its 4th season, and didn't win me over right away when it started in 2004. At the outset, I thought it moved at a slow pace and the humor was subdued. I stuck with it though, and what I've seen over the past couple of seasons is a terrifically honed cast reaching its stride. As I recall, Seinfeld was slow and quirky in its first couple of seasons. Sometimes it takes a little while for the ingredients to mix.

What we have now is a delicious comedy pastiche -- a viciously, hilariously accurate lampooning of the American office. Steve Carell plays Michael Scott, the pathetically insecure boob who manages the Dundermifflin sales office. One of his employees is Stanley Hudson, a sardonic aging black man who has little patience for Michael's nonsense. We also have Angela, the uptight priss who serves as office accountant. There is smirky Kevin, good-hearted Phyllis, loutish Andy, gay Oscar and by-the-book Toby to round things out. Pam, played by Jenna Fischer is perfect as the sweet and slightly mischievous secretary. John Krasinki plays Jim Halpert, the handsome salesman who rises above the level (and sometimes to the same level) of Michael's outrageous tom-foolery; he also is Pam's on-again off-again love interest. Ryan is the young MBA suck-up who has usurped Michael by going from temp underling to regional manager. Last but definitely not least is Dwight Schrute, a lead salesman who is Michael's lieutenant of sorts. Dwight is a nerd who lets any whiff of power go straight to his head. In episodes where Dwight is given even a momentary responsibility (selecting a health insurance plan for the office, subbing for Michael) he goes on a power-mad kick -- seeking to fire people or form some kind of secret cabal. A real-life Dwight would probably be committed to a padded cell at some point.

Many of the characters you see are but a shade away from someone you know. Michael the boss is so over-the-top, I can’t help but think someone that self-centered and incompetent would be fired in short order. As it happens on the series, his workaholic fembot of a boss, Jan, becomes romantically involved with Michael. Her emotions and behavior become erratic -- she goes on work day shopping sprees and gets her breasts enlarged. She's the one who actually gets canned (at end of last season). The show has so many romances, conspiracies, betrayals and what-not it's hard to keep pace. You might liken it to a soap opera, but these characters seem very real and multi-dimensional, unlike a soap opera.

The Office has some excellent comedy veterans writing and producing for it. Greg Daniels, producer is also known for The Simpsons and King of the Hill. B.J. Novak who plays Ryan is also a writer/co-producer of the show. He's well-known from his previous work in stand-up comedy. Steve Carell of course has been in several movies of late, and is at the top of his game. If you find yourself channel surfing on Thursday evenings, stop and watch The Office. You might not glean all the rich irony and humor from a first viewing, but as you learn the characters' quirks it will become must-see TV.

© 2007 blogSpotter

The Bigger Bang

2007-11-01T09:07:00.000-07:00

Cast of The Big Bang theory -- Picture courtesy of CBS

by blogSpotter
CBS' Big Bang Theory is new this season, and it lives up to its name. I've often thought I was too smart for my own good, and this show bears it all out. Intelligence is a curse -- that is if it goes to the extreme of geekiness. Big Bang centers around two nerdy college guys, Leonard and Sheldon, who live across the hall from a comely blonde woman named Penny. Leonard is played by show-biz vet Johnny Galecki (Darlene's boyfriend on Roseanne) and Sheldon is played to perfection by newcomer Jim Parsons. Kaley Kuoco is Penny, the blonde eye candy. She's a waitress at the Cheesecake Factory and a source of fascination to Leonard.

What makes the show fantastic is the verifiably nerdy dialog -- there clearly is a computer science geek on the writing staff. On the very first episode, Leonard and Sheldon both have white boards full of equations. Each is trying to win Penny over with his respective mathematical proof. Needless to say, Penny is unimpressed by this wayward mating ritual. In later episodes it appears that Leonard is slightly more socially adept than Sheldon and also has it bad for Penny. Knowing that his chances are slim, he attempts to ingratiate himself w/ her, while trying not to let on that he has a crush. Sheldon is more "out there" and has a bit more trouble with real one-on-one human relationships. In typical dialog, Sheldon will miss the overall point of a discussion to argue over scientific minutia.

As if Leonard and Sheldon weren't geeky enough, their friends Howard and Rajesh have been thrown into the mix. Howard kids himself that he's a lady's man, though his comb-over and poor track record speak for themselves. Rajesh is so terrified of beautiful women that he freezes and can't speak when in the presence of Penny. When you get these four into a room with a woman, there will be heat -- heat generated from discussions about relativity or dark matter. There will be no sexual heat. If it weren't for the hilarious presentation of the material, I'd almost cry rather than laugh; it's all too familiar and realistically captured. One has to thank God that there is the occasional pretty woman that is charmed by a smart man. It looks like they may be building towards a Leonard-Penney romance in the next season. Let's stay tuned to The Big Bang Theory and see if love truly can conquer all.

You can catch The Big Bang Theory on CBS Mondays 7:30PM CST -- (CC) TV-14.

© 2007 blogSpotter

Retro Romp at Muscle Beach

2007-10-01T08:51:00.000-07:00

Girl Fight! Girl Fight! -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
I wanted a light-hearted, fairly short movie to download to my iPhone -- just something to show people how movies look on it. I found the perfect movie with 1964's Muscle Beach Party, the 2nd in a series of five beach movies starring Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello. The movie was directed by William Asher (also known for Bewitched) and like many 60's era movies it shows teen behavior from a hilariously square adult viewpoint. I'm reminded of Brady Bunch where Sherwood Schwartz thought that "groovy" was a perfectly good word for a 1970's teen. By 1970, "groovy" had been deprecated to a terribly square phrase of the unhip. The kids in the cast tried to tell Schwartz to no avail. Thus, part of the giggle factor when watching beach movies or Brady's are things like "Johnny Bravo", songs like "A Boy Needs a Girl", and the word groovy.

A couple of things strike me immediately w/ Muscle Beach: Frankie and Dee Dee are supposed to be teens, but both are well into their mid-20's. Avalon is a heart-throb leading man, but is so petite he's barely taller than half the women in the cast. Like Mad, Mad World, there are some social sea changes since 1964 that would make much of the dialog and plot devices unlikely today. The women are sitting around mooning and pining over their men; they even have the occasional cat fight over a man. Nowadays, it's decidedly uncool to depict a woman in that way. Current day plots more frequently have the woman in the driver's seat -- leaving a man, attracting a man, or doing whatever she might do to a man in the active mode. From a purely stylistic standpoint I have to observe that Dee Dee (Funicello) has the highest hair I’ve ever seen, where it wasn’t intended as a self-parody. It was easily 5 inches high.

Don Rickles plays Jack Fannie, a gym manager on the beach. I forgot that in his late 30’s Rickles was not yet an obnoxious, fearsome insult-meister. He was perfect as the low-IQ and oddly vulnerable gym manager. His muscle men are depicted as preening divas wearing satin trunks (alternately pink or purple) with white thongs on their feet. Attitudes toward body building have evolved – it’s more mainstream now. The very concept of a “muscle beach” could evoke laughter in 1964, and would more likely get straight-faced queries of interest in 2007.

Last but not least in this movie was Luciana Paluzzi playing an Italian Contessa, Julie, who is smitten with Frankie. Her Italian accent is alternately charming and funny. The “cat fight” between her and Dee Dee makes the movie worth watching all by itself. Buddy Hackett is perfect as Julie’s business manager – Hackett was in his comic prime, having recently done Music Man and Mad, Mad World.

In sum, Muscle Beach Party is the perfect diversion if you want to laugh and have purely a good time. The simple stereotypes and implied “truths” might annoy people nowadays – most girls don’t aspire just to be “Johnny’s Girl”. The music, except for one song by a 13 year old Stevie Wonder, is largely forgettable tripe that leverages off of the styles of Leslie Gore or the Beach Boys (take your pick). The dialog is hilariously contrived; nobody would say these words, ever. For a 90 minute guilty-pleasure laugh fest, that should not be a problem. Pick up a copy of this movie and indulge yourself in a blast from the past.

© 2007 blogSpotter

Fun with Bill and Hill

2007-09-03T20:04:00.000-07:00

The Bill and Hill Show -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Was thinking of how it might play out if Hillary Clinton wins the Presidency in 2008. The GOP was so rankled by three terms of FDR, they enacted the 22nd Amendment in 1951, barring any person from serving more than two consecutive terms. Now if Hill and Bill come back to town, Americans may get eight more years of the "Hill and Bill" show. They'll swap name tags, but who can say that the result will differ by much. Assuming that Hillary is over that Monica thing, I'm guessing that the Clintons at least share a bed -- if only just for sleeping. Even so, they share common political views and I can't help thinking what their "Pillow Talk" will be....

"Did you take your cholesterol pill?"
"Yes Honey"
"Would you be a darling and turn out the light"
"Certainly"
"And what do you think I should do about Immigration?"
"Well, I think the John McCain compromise wasn't half bad -- it could probably be floated by the American people one more time ..."

So much for True Romance. This is the ultimate power couple and each needs the other one for intense, passionate, hot, sweaty policy wonk discussions. If they never do much more than air kisses and butt pats, they still have an impressive marriage.

Bill has said that as "First Gentleman" he will gladly do some of the things done by traditional First Ladies. He'll decorate the White House Christmas Tree, help entertain Heads of State and maybe even sponsor improvement programs like "Reading is Fundamental", "Just Say No" or "Beautify America". He's a social, convivial man and in truth he may have the best of all worlds -- freedom to roam while still wielding enormous influence over public policy. (As a "damn Liberal" that doesn't bother me too much. :-)). I can't imagine what Bill would say "No" to, and he would probably prefer to beautify America more with leggy women than with blue bonnets and wild flowers.

This last speculation makes me wonder about how Hill will situate Bill's office. If I were her, I'd put him in the West Wing, just down the hall. She should put hidden cameras and mikes everywhere -- tell him it's a requirement of the Secret Service. Maybe put a tracking device on his leg, to make sure where he is at all times. To be honest, Bill was such a horn dog that it's questionable whether he could make it all the way to the men's room or the water fountain without having an affair. At minimum, it seems like he would "honk" a woman's breasts somewhere in the hallway. A last good measure would be to give him either a male secretary or a much older, wiser female secretary. And don't allow interns anywhere near him. It might be that Hillary has "reasoned it away" and doesn't really care what Bill does as long as he's discreet.

Talk show comedians and trashy news magazines are the least of the beneficiaries -- all of America would up the entertainment ante if the Hill and Bill show were to come back for an eight year encore. Let’s see what happens – “Billary” might even enact some good policy, rebalance the budget and get us out of Iraq.

© 2007 blogSpotter

Hairspray Has Holding Power

2007-08-01T13:25:00.000-07:00

The world keeps spinning 'round and 'round -- Picture Courtsesy New Line Cinema

by blogSpotter
I've seen several "Hairspray" reviews this past week, so will try not to rehash everything in great detail. You're probably familiar with John Water's story, set in Baltimore 1962. In the story, a porcine white teenager, Tracy Turnblad (played by Nikki Blonsky now), attempts to integrate a racially segregated TV dance review which hosts a monthly "Negro Day" and requires participants to dance on segregated dance floors. Tracy's newfound racial sensitivity comes from being sent to high school detention, where she meets black students who teach her some crazy new dance moves. The movie basically centers on Tracy getting the Corny Collins Show to become integrated. The reviewer for People Magazine thought that there was too little of Tracy and too much of the other bigger-than-life characters in this movie.

I have to respectfully disagree with People. The plot of "Hairspray" is pretty thin -- it could use some Minoxidil. Its depiction of racial strife is oversimplified and almost trite. The love affair between Tracy and Link (hunky dance star and obvious chubby chaser, played by Zac Efron) is not enough to sustain a 107 minute movie. Therefore, you HAVE to give lots of face time, dialog and dance numbers to the luminary costars -- they are pretty much the movie. We have the much-touted John Travolta doing fat-suit drag as Edna Turnblad. I couldn't discern his accent, and I can't help but think that his straight-guy drag shtick is too subdued. On the other hand he can bust a move in the dance numbers, and that's impressive. Queen Latifah is excellent as Motormouth Maybelle, the record store owner. She lends gravity to the whole affair and pretty well takes over the show at the end when she sings "You Can't Stop the Beat". Christopher Walken actually comes across as smart and sensitive as Tracy's father -- he usually plays zanier roles. Jerry Stiller has a bit part as the owner of a large woman's apparel store and 20 year old Elijah Kelley is a breakout as Seaweed, one of the best dancers. Allison Janney is hilarious as Penny's overprotective mother; I didn't even know it was her until I saw the credits roll.

I have to say that Michelle Pfeiffer steals the show as Velma Von Tussle, the snobby former Miss Boston and Corny Collins station manager. Her equally snobby daughter, Amber Von Tussle is favored to win the Miss Baltimore dance contest. Pfeiffer is beautiful in a deranged way and comes across as one of the best villains we've had since maybe Cruella DeVille. She's obnoxious and over-the-top -- everything a villain needs to be for the final come-uppance.

I'd be remiss not to also mention that "Hairspray" features some great early-60's clothing, cars and backdrops -- very colorful and fun. The imagery alone makes the movie worth seeing. The music and choreography are also great; I can only imagine that at least three of the numbers will end up as clips for "Show Tune" collections. Many people have declared that the musical is a dead format for movies, thinking fondly back to "Music Man" or "Sound of Music". "Hairspray" is pretty grand and may help to revive the genre. If you look closely in the opening "Good Morning Baltimore" number, you will see John Waters (the screenwriter of the original 1988 movie) do a cameo as a street flasher. From that flashy scene forward, "Hairspray" will keep you entertained.

© 2007 blogSpotter

Acid Wash

2007-07-03T19:38:00.000-07:00

Turning on and Tuning in -- Picture courtesy of Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
LSD will turn 70 next year. What is LSD? It's lysergic acid diethylamide. It was invented at Sandoz Laboratories in 1938 by a research chemist named Albert Hoffman (who just turned 100 last year). Hoffman was working with a rye fungus called ergot, looking for nothing more than a headache remedy. It wasn't until five years later, 1943, that Hoffman began to suspect the mind altering qualities of LSD by accidental ingestion. He then took a deliberate dosage of 250 micrograms to verify his suspicion. That was an enormous dose by current standards -- 25 micrograms is the "norm". LSD is very potent. Hoffman then took a famous bicycle ride in which he hallucinated that trees were melting. The next day, he awoke with a sense of expanded awareness and credited LSD with his newfound wisdom.

LSD quickly garnered attention for its mind-bending effects. Sandoz gave it freely to doctors studying schizophrenia (among others) and gave it the commercial name Delysid. As it grew in popularity, some doctors actually prescribed it for depression and anxiety. In 1961, Harvard psychology professor Timothy Leary received an LSD study grant. In one of his studies, he found that 83% of LSD users had profound, beautiful insights from their drug use. LSD became the "super muse" of the art and music community. Aldous Huxley, Allen Ginsberg and Anais Nin were among its users. People claimed to feel visionary and born again under its influence. The Beatles, the Doors and the Grateful Dead were among the multitude of musicians that turned on and tuned in. Oddly, some of the most beautiful music of the 20th century ("A Day in the Life", "Tuesday Afternoon") was probably LSD-influenced.

Alas, nothing good is forever. There had to be some kind of bummer to bring everyone back down and there was. LSD caused "bad trips" where people would experience pain or ghastly imagery. It was thought to cause permanent psychosis in some users and traumatic flashbacks in others. For these reasons, it was banned in the USA in October 1966. LSD took some other bad raps at about the same time. Both the Army and the CIA had been using LSD for mind control experiments (eg, Project MKULTRA). The subjects of the experiment were soldiers and citizens unaware that they were being used as guinea pigs. Such experiments were outlawed under the Ford Administration and laws of informed consent were later enacted.

And so, what is the status of LSD today? It is alive and well in the underground recreational drug market. It's frequently dispensed on blotter paper in tiny dosages of 20 to 30 micrograms. In 2006, the British Journal of Psychiatry actually suggested that LSD might be reevaluated for its medical use. Maybe after the passage of 40 years and the reduced hysteria, the drug could be tested in a more controlled fashion. I can't imagine what illness I might have, where the antidote gives me melting trees and time dilation. But what the hey -- I've had some killer head aches. What harm is a Salvador Dali world, if I can feel good again? But maybe we should refrain.

Speaking of refrains, I'm thinking of, "I read the news today Oh boy ...” LSD gave us some bad trips and some really good music. What to make of something that has such powers? The genie needs to stay in the bottle for now. When Sandoz comes out with a version that only makes us visionary or only sends us on a good trip -- then maybe we can let the genie back out of the bottle.

© 2007 blogSpotter

The Summer of Love, 40 Years Later

2007-06-03T12:12:00.000-07:00

All you need is love -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
I was just a ten year old Air Force brat when 1967's Summer of Love took place. At that young age I was unable to appreciate, much less partake in the amazing cultural phenomenon. 1969's Woodstock is frequently cited as the seminal Earth-shaking event in American Rock history but nay -- Woodstock is the offspring of that certain summer, that summer of California Dreamin' that took place two years earlier. The Summer of Love actually started as nothing more than a marketing gimmick for the June '67 Monterrey Music Festival. To help promote the event in May '67, The Mamas and Papas' John Phillips penned a little song with a big impact: San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair). Scott McKenzie's eloquent recording of the song became a #1 hit and it served as a quasi-invitation for hippies worldwide to converge in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco for the summer.

The Monterrey Music Festival dovetailed with several other amazing things. An event called the Human Be-In at Golden Gate Park got the ball rolling in January of '67. Then the Beatles came forth with the drug-influenced, George Martin-produced tour-de-force known as Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. There was already a certain hippie momentum and the Beatles' magnum opus (arguably the best album in Rock history) added fuel to the fire. Basically, the whole world converged on San Francisco that summer -- people from New Zealand, Europe and everywhere else. There were hippies to be sure, but also tourists, gawkers, soldiers and middle aged people. Some of the drug-addled attendees actually thought that utopia was to occur then and there. It's easy to see why. They had free food, free love and even a free clinic (which still operates to this day). There was even a Free Store which gave basic supplies to anyone in need.

As all good things must, the Summer of Love came to an end. Overcrowding, crime and drug problems began to take a toll. Those ultimate wet blankets, practical people and realists, all had to go back to school and back to their jobs. It turned out that you couldn't give everything away free, forever without something like that pesky Social Contract becoming necessary. Nevertheless, and you knew a nevertheless was coming, the Summer of Love was beautiful in both its utopian intentions and its musical expression. Nothing since has held a candle to the "turning on" that happened that summer in Haight-Ashbury. In 1987, the 20th anniversary of Sergeant Pepper and the Summer of Love, the album was released in CD format. Wags the world over argued over the question, "Is love all you really need?" Sociologists and pragmatists everywhere claimed that you need money, work, social security a sound roof and central heating. They finally approached the expert himself, George Harrison, to seek his opinion. George answered without any hesitation at all: "Yes, all you need is Love". Thank you Mr. Harrison; this blog author is in whole-hearted agreement with that lyric. The Summer of Love was a perfect antidote to a world rocked by racial strife and the Viet Nam War. Some 40 years later, we are rocked by the war in Iraq -- maybe it's time to revisit Haight-Ashbury and its themes. I'll close with my favorite bumper sticker from the era:

"Make love, not war".

© 2007 blogSpotter

Getting Pulped

2007-05-01T21:06:00.001-07:00

Late Night Double Feature Picture Show -- Picture courtesy Rollins Stone.

by blogSpotter
Over my vacation break, I saw the "must-see" movie of the year -- Grindhouse. Created by Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez, Grindhouse is a terrific homage to B-movie exploitation flicks of the 60's and 70's. It's offered as a 2-for-1 double feature, much like you might have at a drive-in or a "grind house" theater showing B-movies at a reduced ticket price. The two movies are only 1 hour 15 minutes in length, interspersed with bogus ads and trailers.

Where to begin? "Planet Terror" gives us a small town invaded by flesh-eating "sickos" -- people who have succumbed to a bizarre virus and turned into zombies with bubbling boils. I won't go into all the details, but suffice it to say that a stripper named Cherry (played by Rose McGowan), who has an automatic machine gun for a prosthetic leg, saves the day at the end of the movie. This week's Rolling Stone magazine features the Grindhouse ladies in its cover story. "Death Proof" gives us Kurt Russell playing totally opposite his usual wholesome hero type. Russell plays a mentally depraved stunt man who seems to get a sexual thrill out of vehicular homicide -- killing women with his car. In this movie, he picks the wrong group of 'bitches' to terrorize -- a trio of stunt women who know how to kick a man's ass without ever uttering the word "victim". There was so much adrenaline flowing at the end of these two movies, I can only imagine that everyone had to go work out their aggressions at the gym after leaving the theater.

What does this movie call to mind? It has Night of the Living Dead, Thelma and Louise, Smokey and the Bandit all as influences. Mix in a little Big, Bad Momma and bring to boil. Voila -- you have the best movie so far this year. To capture the total experience, Tarantino and Rodriguez added cheesy faux film trailers, snack bar commercials, obligatory scratches and lines (mimicking poor quality grind house film stock) and missing reels in a couple of strategic places. When Machete and Thanksgiving trailers were shown, people were practically rolling in the aisles with laughter.

Is there any downside at all to this wonderful film? It was a disappointment on the opening weekend -- only 11.6 million dollars brought in. I figure that's due entirely to its 3 hour length and the fact that theaters can only schedule it for half as many show times. The other drawback could only affect a car enthusiast like me; in the movie, they destroy a Cadillac Eldorado, Chevy Nova, Dodge Charger and Dodge Challenger all from the golden early 70's era. Blasphemy! And yet, as you walk out of the theater you'll be drying your eyes from laughing so much -- maybe the supreme car sacrifice is worth it.

© 2007 blogSpotter

American Beauty - A 2nd Viewing

2007-04-02T10:13:00.000-07:00

Mid-life, a time for crisis -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
I just watched American Beauty from 1999 for the second time since I saw it in the theater. It was an excellent movie even then, and it garnered several Oscars. In the interim, I've done 8 more years of middle-aged living and can relate to the characters’ mid-life crises all the more, though mine has been a solo experience and less traumatic. American Beauty tells the story of an affluent middle-aged couple experiencing marital melt-down. The husband is smitten with the friend of his teenaged daughter; the wife is a successful "bitch-on-wheels" real estate agent and she is smitten with a successful local realtor.

There are more layers of complexity in the story. Lester Burnham, Spacey's character, feels trapped by all the materialism in their lives and he grieves for his lost youth. Carolyn Burnham, played to bitchy perfection by Annette Bening, feels encumbered by what she sees as her grossly immature, geeky husband. Their teenage daughter, Jane, is a quiet, nearly "Goth" teenager witnessing all her parents' extreme dysfunction firsthand. Jane finds refuge in the company of the equally strange teenage boy next door, Ricky. Ricky sells dope, makes home videos and tries to operate under the radar of his maniacal, homophobic, ex-marine father. In the final analysis, the Goth teens probably have a better handle on reality than anyone else in the movie.

Since seeing the movie in 1999, I can relate better to the Burnhams and I've had some mid-life epiphanies of my own. In the movie, Spacey buys a toy remote control car and replaces his humdrum Camry with a 1970 Firebird. He embarks on a rigorous weight training program to beef up his middle aged body (to impress Jane's Lolita-like friend of course). He quits his rat race job and gets work as a fast food fry cook. Just when it looks like Lester and Carolyn might have a rekindling of their love, Carolyn freaks out, "Don't spill beer on our $4,000 Italian silk couch!" He points out, rightly in a way, that it’s only a thing and they have too many things. There are hilarious and simultaneously sad reflections of the American Dream gone sour. You have to travel all the way back to 1967's The Graduate for a movie with an equally strong indictment of America’s suburban superficiality.

The movie has a shocking conclusion which I won’t disclose here – let’s just hope that we all have smoother transitions to the middle years. If there are times you feel like a hamster running on a wheel, you should pick up a copy of the simultaneously funny, hypnotic and tragic American Beauty.

© 2007 blogSpotter

The Left-Wing Oscars

2007-03-03T07:57:00.000-08:00

Oscar goes red -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter

I'm watching the Oscars tonight as I write this, and am struck by how left-wing they've become. I myself am pretty left-wing, so this is no problem to me. Ellen Degeneres, an out lesbian is the host. Ellen pointed out that if it weren't for blacks, gays and Jews there would be no Oscars -- and probably nobody named Oscar.

Not only was Al Gore's Inconvenient Truth a nominated movie, but Gore himself was a presenter; Leonardo DiCaprio, his copresenter, egged Gore on to announce his 2008 candidacy. (Gore did not comply).

To go along with all the leftitude, Melissa Etheridge, another out lesbian, sang a theme song from Inconvenient Truth. Various data from the movie (about CO2 levels and such) were shown on the backdrop as she sang. At the close of her song it was announced that this is the first "Green" Oscar ceremony ever. Ellen Degeneres said she would recycle some old jokes to be ecological:

"What about that Ginger in Gilligan's Island? Can you believe how many clothes she brought for a 3 hour tour?"

This Oscar ceremony was also the most multiethnic, with more nominees of other races and nationalities. I was disappointed that Eddie Murphy didn't win for Dreamgirls. He was excellent in his role and the movie as a whole was shut out of other so many categories.

The show is still going as I write this. I'm rooting for Babel as best picture -- it's an outstanding panoramic movie about communication problems between humans. Of the 4 intertwining plots, the one about the deaf and emotionally starved Japanese girl was the most unusual, and the best.

As I sign off, Gwyneth Paltrow is giving an award for cinematography. Yet another lefty who moved to England and then talked trash about W Bush. I love the Oscars, and I really love this one. Many conservatives hate what has happened to the entertainment industry. To conservatives out there who don't like the Dixie Chicks winning Grammies, or Ellen recycling jokes -- here is what you must do. Become culturally aware and sensitive to the problems of other people. Different does not equate to bad. Understand that your religion is just that -- your religion. Realize that tax breaks and business profits are not the main objective in life. Gradually, you will decalcify; you'll become less of a Republican and more of a liberal. You'll agree with Hollywood -- and I hope that's not an inconvenient truth.

© 2007 blogSpotter

Harry Potter Gone Wild

2007-02-06T12:54:00.000-08:00

Reaching for new horizons -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
To steal a line from Friends: Oh... My ...God! Harry Potter, aka the 17 year-old actor Daniel Radcliffe, is appearing nude in the London play Equus. He plays a stable hand, obsessed with horses. The topic was discussed on NBC's Today Show this morning. Matt Lauer aptly pointed out that people who object do not have to see the play. Others of a more Puritanical bent (mostly passerbies interviewed on the street), thought that the whole Potter series including an upcoming movie should be boycotted.

What to say? Daniel is the captain of his own ship -- maybe he didn't want to be typecast as a pimply teen wizard. Imagine if Kirk Cameron or Debbie Gibson had done something meatier and more daring early in their careers. Maybe they wouldn't be footnotes on Where Are They Now? Maybe they wouldn't have been trapped in roles that are unreal and unrelenting in their wholesomeness. Liz Taylor began her long career playing a wholesome teen. We can thank our lucky stars that she turned it all around vamping in roles like Maggie the Cat in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

Who among us has not imagined how our career might be advanced by taking off our clothes? OK, well to be honest I haven't. As a programmer, there are no situations that call for nudity. And even if there were, nudity would probably get me a demotion. I have to say double standards are at work; a man who gets naked is testing his acting chops -- a woman doing so is more likely to be seen as a naughty girl. If the nude work is artsy (think Looking for Mr. Goodbar or for that matter Equus) the actor or actress has more of a naked leg to stand on. If it's characterized as soft core pornography, it can be career-ending -- there is a thin line to walk. It's not so much that the thespian looks immoral, but rather he looks like he's desperate for a role. "What? You couldn't get a bit part on Boston Legal? A cameo on Desperate Housewives?"

I haven't read any Potter books nor have I seen any of the movies. I wouldn't know a Voldemort from a finger wart. Daniel Radcliffe has stayed squarely on the artsy side of the line, and his move should free him from the bondage of kiddy flicks -- maybe to other forms of bondage. We should be hearing more from the lad in coming years -- at 17 he has many more films to make and we know already that he has a wide acting range.

© 2007 blogSpotter

How Not to Write a Screenplay

2007-01-14T19:42:00.000-08:00

My shattered Hollywood dreams -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
My readers may be surprised to know about my failed 'attempt' as a screenwriter. Back in 1998, I attended a home seminar given by a preeminent Hollywood screenwriter who taught at the University of Dallas. He had to be 80 then and is probably dead by now. I won't divulge his name; we'll call him Henry Powell. Mr. Powell was best known for writing screenplays for The Waltons back in the 70's. While that show was schmaltzy, and hardly an accurate reading of the 1930's, I can use helpful tips from any commercially successful writer. The friend who referred me to Mr. Powell said he was an eccentric gay old man, and that he was. He lived in a small house in a Garland suburb -- the house was totally concealed by overgrown trees and bushes. The neighbors had to love it. Mr. Powell was a chain smoker and his house was full of smoke and nicotine residue. He kept it tidy but smoke always sticks around. The house was filled with statues of naked Greeks as well as various fertility artwork and pictures of male genitalia.

I figured that the other screenwriters would be lively, interesting people. I was so wrong -- it was 5 of the saddest, most somber people I've ever met. The meeting mostly was people reading works in progress and getting professional critique. One man read the first two scenes of "Heist" which was about (what else?) a bank robbery. Another man nearly put me to sleep with a screenplay about the Mexican American war, until he included a bit of gratuitous smut at the end. There were no winks, no laughter even in the "light" spots; these people could've worked at a mortuary. I shared my "treatment" idea as an email to Mr. Powell; being a novice I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of these pros with my lame material. It's good that I did it as email, because Mr. Powell ripped my material to shreds.

My story is that of a pro football player who is also gifted with a great singing voice. The story is about the battle that brews between his sports agent and his talent agent, each one trying to steer the budding star away from the influence of the other agent. Mr. Powell had these many comments:

Don't make it a musical
Don't make it a period piece
Don't make it fantasy or science fiction
Don't make it about horror or monsters
Make it a contemporary setting
Write about what you know about

Am not certain to this day if these limitations were for a novice or writers in general. Surely the former and not the latter. Anyhow, he hated my idea. He picked it apart, down to the font I used (must be courier size 10 I think). We came away with the idea that I should write about someone who experiences identity theft on a computer. Oh, now THAT'S never been done before. Now who's El Lamo? Was reminded of Carol Burnett playing Eunice, and calling her acting coach (played to shrill perfection by Madeline Kahn) "Miss Cat Woman from Mars" with snarling sarcasm. How dare The Walton's writer, the man who penned "Good night John Boy" criticize this great Bard? His credibility was further eroded by his opinion that "Good Will Hunting" is one of the best screenplays ever written.

I was greatly discouraged and put away my crayons. Truth is, writing is a lot of work and my 'real' job was eating my lunch at the time. Otherwise, rest assured: the Bard of Dallas would have written his Magnum Opus.

© 2006 blogSpotter

Rocking with 30 Rock

2006-12-10T13:27:00.000-08:00

Jack and Liz in conference -- Picture courtesy NBC

by blogSpotter
Cast: Tina Fey, Alec Baldwin, Tracy Morgan, Jane Krakowski, Scott Adsit, Judah Friedlander & Rachel Dratch
Airtime: NBC, Thursday 8:30 p.m CST.

If NBC isn't careful, they'll have a Thursday night line-up which is Must-See TV all over again. In their comedy line-up which already includes the hilarious Office, they've just added 30 Rock -- a sleeper sitcom loosely based on Tina Fey's stint as SNL head writer. Tina plays frazzled head writer Liz Lemon. In the course of her day she must hash out comedy routines with a staff of juvenile (albeit adult) writers, placate diva performers (including the hilarious Tracy Morgan) and meet the emotional needs of her high-maintenance vice-president Jack Donaghy -- played to perfection by Alec Baldwin. There are so many interesting characters and moving parts to this show, it should never run out of plot lines.

Digressing somewhat, one of the things I've loved in other comedy shows is the extreme willingness of characters to look silly and lose all sense of dignity. Thus you have Seinfeld's Elaine feigning a foaming rabies attack and you have Lucy Ricardo getting squirted repeatedly in the face with a seltzer bottle. 30 Rock has mined this rich mother lode especially in the character of Liz. Liz is the butt of so many jokes and yet she isn't all that rattled or insulted, her character doesn't lose much momentum. The up-front Jack implies that she's an overweight old maid, or possibly a lesbian. When Liz inspires Jack with an acting lesson, Jack says, "Liz, if you were any other woman in the world, I'd be really turned on right now". All water on a ducks back; Liz is a little insulted but somehow takes it in stride.

Late night viewers will spot numerous cameos from the Conan O'Brien staff as well as the SNL staff. Conan himself did a cameo early on, and these are always a treat. Alec Baldwin has hosted SNL numerous times; his segue over to Jack is a perfect compliment to that. Jack is a no-nonsense kind of guy who says what's on his mind, like it or not. He's imperious, arrogant, sensitive and emotionally needy all at the same time. Many bosses have these traits -- Jack just lets them come to the surface a bit more. The cast of 30 Rock works as a team; cast members do marvelous joke setups where someone else might cash in on the laugh. This type of ensemble acting makes the show all the more hilarious while also making it more believable. It's well paced, and the dialog is credible unlike the predictable, boring laugh track formulas used by other shows. If you want to have comical Thursday night, you can't beat the NBC lineup including 30 Rock.

© 2006 blogSpotter.

Scissors Can Be Dangerous

2006-11-17T13:56:00.000-08:00

The doctor is in -- Picture courtesy Tristar

by blogSpotter
If you come from a dysfunctional family, you might find several things that look familiar in Augusten Burrough's biography, Running with Scissors. Even if you don't come from the Adams family, you'll be fascinated by the story of a creative, gay teenager whose parents go thru a nasty divorce. His father disavows the family, leaving Augusten with his manic depressive, poet mother. The mother, unable to handle her own life or reality in general, gives Augusten over for adoption to her equally nutball psychiatrist, Dr. Finch.

Dr. Finch is a "new age" person who believes that children should create their own boundaries. He presides over a filthy, fallen down manse on an otherwise upscale street. His wife Agnes is a frightened shadow of a woman and the house is a bedlam additionally populated by his haunted, older, 20-something daughter Hope and his more outgoing, naughty teenage daughter Natalie. Augusten becomes part of this weird family from age 13 to about age 18; my own impression is that he keys into their weirdness very easily and seems to enjoy, if not profit from, much of the goings on.

The book was recently turned into a movie with a stellar cast including Alec Baldwin as the father, and Gwyneth Paltrow playing Hope. Annette Benning is superb as the mother, Deidre Burroughs -- vacillating from a beautifully coifed Anne Sexton wannabe, to a madwoman in the throes of mania. The movie has received some savage reviews; I suspect many come from 'ordinary' people who can't imagine this type of family setting anywhere, ever. Justin Chang, of Variety, gives probably a nicer review; he says that the movie suffered in translation from book to movie, becoming a series of chaotic outbursts and lacking the author’s first-person deadpan, comic point of view. He might have something there, and yet the movie fascinated me nonetheless. Brian Cox had the perfect touches of both evil and innocence playing Dr. Finch. Joseph Fiennes was schizoid superbness as "step-brother" Neil; Jill Clayburgh was haunting as Agnes. Evan Rachel Wood was slutty perfection as Natalie and of course, Joseph Cross was good as the sensitive young Augusten.

I don't recommend running with scissors, but I heartily recommend Running with Scissors. It may help to listen to the book on tape, to get the 'cohesive narrative' before you see the movie. Then, no matter how weird your life is, be glad that you don't have a step dad who predicts financial turnarounds by the shape of his stool. Perhaps I've said too much already. :-)

© 2006 blogSpotter.

Of Pork Chops and Political Correctness

2006-10-20T19:45:00.000-07:00

Carlin dishing out sacrilege -- Picture courtesy Wikipedia

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George Carlin is a favorite comedian of mine. In the '60's, he was very cutting edge, seen by some as the successor to Lenny Bruce. In 2006, as he approaches the 70 mark, he's about as cutting edge as a Bill Cosby Jello commercial to most young people. Nevertheless, I like his rascally nature and his unusual take on things. Carlin began his career as a DJ in Bosier City, Louisiana at age 20. From there, he developed a comedy act which eventually led him to Rowan and Martin's Laugh In where he did his zoned-out hippie dippie weatherman character.

I'm now listening to his latest book, "When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?". I love the thought-provoking sacrilege in the title. As the first Christian, did Jesus have to remain Kosher? Or was he technically even a Christian? I feel certain he never had a cheeseburger; there were no Sonics or Wendy's at the time. Mr. Carlin -- shame on you for making me ponder such things. Carlin spends a lot of time discussing word play. He's bothered by job-inflation euphemisms -- why is a clerk now a "sales associate"? Likewise, he's bothered by politically correct speech; "differently-abled" has no real meaning since all of us are "differently-abled". He considers it to be the feminization of speech. Speaking of femininity, Carlin deems the names of feminine deodorants as boring (e.g., Summer's Eve). He proposes Vaginilla and Lime Labia. In the chapter I just finished, Carlin feels that the ultimate wimp sign is "Thank You for Not Smoking". Carlin would put up a sign that reads:

"If you light a cigarette, we will extinguish it somewhere on the surface of your body".

I'm shocked, I'm appalled and furthermore I'm entertained. Carlin's rants couldn't be taken too seriously, some of them don't even make that much sense. The hippie dippie comic has probably availed himself of some mood enhancers – it expands his imagination to be sure. In closing, I can only imagine Jesus enjoying a baked ham and a milk shake. Be gone these blasphemous thoughts, lest I start laughing again.

© 2006 blogSpotter.

The Devil in W. Bush?

2006-09-27T11:52:00.000-07:00

Bush on Air Force One -- Photo courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Before I broach the title topic, I have an off-topic sidenote. Just figured out how to display iPod photo slideshows ands videos on my TV screen. All that was needed was a $19 AV cable, and some patience to understand that (1) it works only w/ the video iPod, not the nano and (2) you must set 'TV out' to ON. The guy at the Apple store was going to have me buy an entire home entertainment kit for $99. For a 'gee whiz' type of experiment, $19 is a much better price. But I digress...

Is Bush the Devil? Hugo Chavez, the President of Venezuela suggested so last week in an address to the United Nations. Charles Rangel and Nancy Pelosi used it as a political opportunity to show that they're red-blooded patriots in spite of extreme liberalism. They sharply denounced Chavez. I myself will entertain thoughts from any source, and pondered ... what would an actual Prince of Darkness do, masquerading as President? Here are some things ...

o He might propose torture. The Great Satan might even propose doing away with Article 3 of the Geneva Convention, thereby opening the gates to Hell all the way. We torture you ... and oh, a footnote -- you can torture us too.

o He might propose full-scale eavesdropping and wiretaps. The Devil is nothing if not inquisitive for knowledge. Even if his methods are ham-handed and wrong, the ends pretty well justify the means.

o He might prevaricate (that's a $10 synonym for 'lie') about mass destruction weapon's threat to start a war that Neocons have been chomping at the bit to fight for 10 years.

o He might run up the national debt, robbing Peter (our grandchildren) to pay Paul (ourselves). He's nothing if not short-term and expedient in all his calculations. The Prince of Darkness trades thoughtful strategy for immediate gratification of one sort or another.

Now, one other thought about Satan. Satan can probably pronounce 'nuclear' and he has a certain method to his madness. Bush can't enunciate even simple words -- paging Professor Higgins. Bush has really shown few fox-like qualities -- no real mendacity or shrewdness. His six years in office are more like watching a 15 year old boy drive a stick-shift muscle car for the first time, without Driver's Ed. He has bumbled and bumped and bruised everything in site. Bush isn't the Devil or even a demon -- he's an unfortunate historical event, unfolding before our eyes. I don't know of any real 'dates' on which to focus, for when W gets out from behind the wheel. January 1, 2007 -- this date signifies Bush's last year to get much done. 2008 will be consumed by the noise of a new election and 'where Bush went wrong'. Devil, no. Boob, yes. Now in the meantime --- maybe an iPod video can distract me from the sad spectacle on our political stage.

© 2006 blogSpotter.

Of Beer, Bongs and Boys

2006-08-03T13:39:00.000-07:00

Assorted Dutch beers, courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
Barbara Ehrenreich is an author who contributes essays to TIME magazine. Her writing has a feminist bent, and sometimes comes across as shrill, but her essay in last week's TIME was pretty good. In it, she described a new collegiate reality where only 45% of students under 25 are male; males are also less likely to graduate. Much of this jibes with statistics I mentioned in my Macho Imperative blog earlier this year. Rather than slave over Physics or Classical Mechanics, today's young males are more likely to select easy majors that allow for keg parties and poker games. Academicians have fretted that we may end up with a matriarchy where over-achieving girls rule the roost. "Not so fast," says Ehrenreich. "It may be that college boys are onto something".

Ehrenreich describes a new business world that has also recently evolved -- evolved in such a way as to separate bean-counting nerds from high octane, risk-taking players. The new business world celebrates such things as personality, likeability and positive attitude. It elevates traits such as a Myers-Briggs "extroverted" profile far above any engineering proficiency. The personality cult is especially kind to jocular jock types who excel at hitting golf balls.

Time was, when hard work and earnest effort toward objectively judged goals was praiseworthy. If any division existed, it was between blue collar and white collar workers. One must imagine that w/ grade inflation, proliferation of college degrees and globalization, that college degrees don’t have the patina they once did. A Bachelors Degree of 2006 is maybe on par w/ a high school diploma of 1966. Then, celebrity-jock hip-hop culture has made anyone troubling over books and graphs some kind of ultimate chump. “Fish or cut bait” goes the phrase, and apparently guys all want to fish.

My personal impression is that there aren’t enough “personality” jobs to give every member of the cult a high paying position. Maybe we are heading toward a “Slacker Nation” where under-employed men shop their ideas for web sites, businesses and screenplays at Starbucks while the wife toils over actuarial science in a cubicle maze. In a pride of lions, the females hunt while the males luxuriate, look beautiful and shake their manes. Maybe we are headed toward lion world. It’s not a world I’m overly familiar with – perhaps I should go back to college. This time, I’ll hedge my bets by majoring in Heineken and hoops.

© 2006 blogSpotter.

Material Girl

2006-07-11T06:50:00.000-07:00

courtesy Wikipedia

by blogSpotter
What can you say about superstar Madonna, that hasn't been said already? The Material Girl has been a fixture in our musical world for nearly 3 decades now. She's gone thru so many stages, it's hard to keep track:

• Early Madonna -- Like a Virgin temptress
• Material Girl -- Making material demands, showing mastery over men
• Who's that Girl Madonna -- Blonde and independent, asking Papa not to preach
• Like A Prayer Madonna -- Cavorting with a priest, breaking more taboos
• Vogue Madonna -- Justifying her love, playing the sexpot in Dick Tracy
• Evita Madonna -- Don't cry for Madonna here, probably her best movie role ever
• Kabbalah Madonna -- Speaking with a British accent, married to Guy Richie

Madonna is now in her late 40's -- her youthful temptress days are over, but she's still a pop culture force of nature. Other divas have recently, previously passed the same age milestones -- Barbra Streisand, Cher and Dianna Ross to name a few. Interesting how perception of age has evolved. In Sunset Boulevard, Nora Desmond was washed up at age 52. In All About Eve, Margo Channing was an old gray mare at 40. Nowadays, a woman can qualify for babehood all the way to 60, if she embraces the right attitude and has a good plastic surgeon. Age is no longer a crime, just a number.

Madonna’s list of hit records is a mile long, and her influences on pop culture are, if anything, more impressive. When she came along in the early 80’s, the women’s movement and taken large strides in the work world, but there was still a rigid double standard with regards to sexual freedom. Men could act out freely; any woman doing so was a ‘slut’. Madonna helped bring about the concept of an empowered woman who could do as she pleased. Today, a woman can be both provocative and seductive (and smart) without also being designated a prostitute. Actually men (and in particular gay/bisexual men) have benefited from the same evolution of attitude. If the legacy of our lady Madonna were simplified to a single phrase it would be:

“Let people be who they are”.

Thank you, Madonna. You might not have done it single-handedly, but you helped make the world a better place.

© 2006 blogSpotter.

Peace Mom

2006-07-04T19:54:00.000-07:00

Sheehan (left), Anti-war demonstration (right)

by blogSpotter
Cindy Sheehan is the grieving mother of Casey Sheehan, a young man who was killed in Iraq on April 4, 2004. The 48 year old woman has gained a following (or notoriety depending on viewpoint) for her stand against the Iraq War and for putting President Bush in an awkward spot -- insisting on a personal visit outside his Crawford Texas ranch. For people given to logic, but not emotion there are two very simple things to point out:

• Casey joined the U.S. Army of his on free will, in 2000. A parent of a Viet Nam draft casualty might have a stronger argument than Sheehan -- that a peace-loving son was taken at the hands of a war-mongering state. Also, Cindy had voiced quiet doubts about the Iraq War prior to her son's death, but didn't become a strident activist until afterward. One might conjecture inconsistency due entirely to her own personal experience.

• Bush did meet with Sheehan and other deceased soldiers' parents in June 2004, at Fort Lewis near Tacoma, Washington. She expressed some reticence then about how the war was handled -- but she thought Bush was sincere in his motives and that he had given her a reason "to be happy". A month later, a certain remorsefulness and anger had set in -- she criticized the meeting with Bush and described him as "detached". Again, observers following a path of pure logic excluding all emotion might find an inconsistency here.

Sheehan took America by storm following these events. Most notably, she staged a sit-in in Crawford Texas seeking a meeting with the President. In what was a regrettable public relations move for Bush, he ignored her. I can only imagine how Clinton would have turned such a lemon situation into lemonade -- grand-standing before the cameras and showing bitter grief. (I’ve always felt that politics is three parts acting and one part policy -- Reagan and Clinton knew all too well). Bush ignored her, and her public juggernaut gained momentum. In months since, Sheehan has met with BBC, the President of Venezuela, and a multitude of celebrities. Her last, recent publicized event was a hunger strike with a woman's antiwar group called CodePink.

In spite of my ‘criticisms’ above, I actually empathize greatly with Sheehan. I supported the Iraq War at the outset, and now regret that stance. Cannot, did not imagine the incompetence that would prevail on the part of senior officials executing the war. I think that losing a son would be like losing an internal organ with no anesthesia. It would bring to bear all my thoughts about how wrong the war is -- instead of whispering my doubts, I would shout my agony. Cindy Sheehan is every Mother with a heart. There is a hawkish twist to my dovish sentiments. I think we invaded Iraq with far too few troops. If Iraq had been properly occupied, there would be law, order and way fewer casualties of Iraqis or Americans. We are in the despicable middle -- too few troops to stanch the anarchic violence and too many to avoid roadside bombings.

But I digress. To the grieving Peace Mom, I give my hope and support. Her son Casey will live every day in her heart, and his death will haunt anyone who knew and loved him. There are no "good" wars -- one or both sides are always in the wrong. But does your son need to die for Rumsfeld's experimentation in 'light manpower'? Does your son need to die for an ill-conceived colonial war? Cindy Sheehan's grieving opens the door to that much needed discussion.

© 2006 blogSpotter.

When I'm 64

2006-06-28T08:31:00.000-07:00

Sir Paul

by blogSpotter
You only need to see a couple of my previous blogs (e.g., "The Beatles Forever") to know that I'm a big Beatles fan. It's sadly ironic that two of the four are already gone -- one from a crazed fan's bullet and one from throat cancer. In their prime, each Beatle fell into some category, be it guru, philosopher, dreamer, cut-up. Paul was to many "the cute Beatle". In reading the Beatles biography, it seems Paul was a very pragmatic businessman, and possibly the glue that helped keep the band together until 1970. Toward the group's end, Lennon and McCartney lost their creative mojo and started taking potshots at each other. Paul accused John of writing drug-induced mantras, and John accused Paul of writing jingles for grandmas. George was disgusted with both, because he felt that they patronized him and played his material half-heartedly. Yoko ("Oh-no!") did not help matters by trying to convince John that the other Beatles lacked artistic 'purity'.

Thus in 1970, they parted ways. Each Beatle enjoyed some individual success, but Paul by far scored the most hits in his new group, Wings. The Guinness Book of Records has Paul as the most successful composer of all time; ironic because Paul also makes it into Dave Barry's "Book of Bad Songs". Barry has a point -- "Silly Love Songs" and "Someone's Knocking at the Door" do not leap to mind as the best works of a musical mastermind. Be all that as it may, the songs of Lennon and McCartney will probably be remembered in the same way that Shakespeare sonnets have been captured for the ages. The Beatles discography already has more staying power than that of Aha, Oasis or Coldplay.

Paul has had 3 'main squeezes' over his lifetime. He dated actress Jane Asher during much of his Beatles' stardom. In 1969, shortly before the group's demise, he met up with American Linda Eastman. He was with Linda for decades to follow, and one might say she was the love of his life. In 1998, Linda succumbed to breast cancer, and Sir Paul was single again. In 2002, Paul married Heather Mills, a former model young enough to be his daughter. They signed no pre-nup and the relationship ran out of gas after 4 years. Tabloids have recently blasted headlines that Heather is a former call girl. Legal experts say that if those allegations are proven, it may help Paul's case regarding divorce settlement and custody. Nonetheless, it's a weird irony that a man so beloved and so long in monogamous couplings gets ditched as he turns 64. Paul actually wrote "When I'm 64" in 1958 -- who would've guessed it would end up on a psychedelic album a decade later, in the hippy era? It may be ironic with regard to Heather, but Paul's listening public will always need him. He will be loved well past 64.

[Quick category is *MUSIC].

© 2006 blogSpotter.

President Rodham-Clinton on Line One

2006-06-23T07:26:00.000-07:00

Coming Attraction, 2008

by blogSpotter
Hillary Clinton, ex-First Lady and Senator from New York, generates excitement and controversy wherever she goes. Hillary' isn’t just exciting, she’s also a survivor -- she's now survived Whitewater, Filegate, a failed health care gambit of the 90's, Vince Foster suicide rumors, Monica Lewinsky, a Gandhi misstatement, and recent remarks about young peoples' laziness. If she were a cat, she'd have maybe two of her nine lives left. Some see her as a hero -- she's the first ex-First Lady to be a Senator. Others cast her as a carpet bagger, serving a New York political office without previously living there. Still others see her as a career-obsessed enabler in a marriage of convenience -- showing far too much tolerance for a philandering husband.

Which one is the real Hillary? She can be used almost as a political litmus test -- people on either extreme of the Left-Right spectrum tend to revile her. The Right sees her as a machinating Lady Macbeth, and the extreme Left sees her as a sell-out on Iraq, abortion and health care where her views have moved closer to the center. As New York Senator, she's made a noticeable splash. She's served on the Armed Services committee, focused on 9/11 recovery and homeland security, supported the initial Iraq incursion, and opposed Bush tax cuts. In the 'strange bedfellows' department, she's joined forces with Newt Gingrich to promote incremental health care; she's also joined with Joe Lieberman to promote the Family Entertainment Protection Act -- to rid video games of violence. One might say her moves have been 'all over the map.' She's made a couple of politic (some may say opportunistic) nods to the Right, but has generally stayed closer to the Left on tax cuts and federal judicial nominations.

It will take a national 'village' to decipher all of this in 2008. That is when Hillary is expected to run for President, possibly being the first woman nominee of a major political party. Victoria Woodhull was the first woman candidate, in 1872. Woodhull was nominee for the Equal Rights Party and Frederick Douglas was her running mate. Successful Democratic candidates in the recent past, including Hillary's husband Bill have been centrist males from Southern states. Hillary lived in Arkansas as an adult, but has a much more Yankee persona. John F. Kennedy was the last elected liberal from the Northeast, and that was 46 years ago. Hillary's poll ratings are at least respectable; in May 2005, 29% of general voters said they were 'very likely' to vote for Hillary and '24% said 'somewhat likely'. We're not talking landslide here, but who knows? Depending on where the chips fall, there could be a President Rodham-Clinton in the future.

© 2006 blogSpotter.

The Liberal Ladies of Newsweek

2006-06-20T07:06:00.000-07:00

The Avenue Award goes to Eleanor (left) and Anna...

by blogSpotter
The two ladies hi-lited in today's blog are already recipients of many accolades and honors, not the least of which are Pulitzer prizes and numerous published books. I won't try to enumerate any of that; will just share my own observations of Eleanor and Anna.

Eleanor Clift holds up the liberal end of the set on The McLaughlin Group. There usually is one other liberal, maybe one other woman to 'even' it out. With about six panelists, you'll normally have four conservatives up against two liberals. Depending on the issue, Eleanor may get support from John, the host, and even from Pat Buchanan (most recently on Iraq issues) -- once in a blue moon. But usually, Eleanor is holding down the fort, trying to out shout Tony Blankley or some other conservative male. Her tenacious ability to hold up under pressure, yell back, and maintain intellectual consistency all at the same time is impressive. There should be a new award given for this 'roller derby' skill set -- she does it admirably. In her spare time, Eleanor is a Newseek editor who gives us great observations about our national governance.

Anna Quindlen does a semi-monthly editorial column for Newsweek. She takes up for society's underdogs and shines a light on current issues -- such as the Enron aftermath, the death penalty, post-partum depression. Sometimes, the topics lean toward women's issues but more often the topics are general in nature. Her compassion and caring reach through -- her writing isn't distant and academic. It's up-close and deeply felt. Anna fulfills one of the stated goals of journalism: to comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable. What's that you say? How can Newseek, a national news magazine, be so biased toward liberals? Well, Newsweek also gives us the near-Libertarian editorials of Robert Samuelson and the conservative essays of George Will. The magazine does offer balance; this blog however tilts -- it tilts in the direction of Newsweek's leading ladies, Eleanor Clift and Anna Quindlen.

© 2006 blogSpotter.

Welcome Again

2006-06-19T08:46:00.000-07:00

Blur of movement

The internet is a revolving door of changes, to say the least. Avenue G has decided to refresh its appearance and to appeal to a more general audience. The blog will still be irreverant, ironic, and at times silly. Sometimes, Avenue G may even be helpful or informative. It will still broach unusual topics from time to time. But Avenue G is a pop culture ezine that should invite readers from all across the board. I'm hoping you enjoy the offerings, some from guest contributors and quality syndicated sources. Welcome!

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