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October 27, 2007: Dedication
What I can tell you is that working with my clients has reminded me how fortunate I am. It may not seem like a big deal for most of you to spend a few hours cutting out Halloween decorations with your kids or reading stories to them or chasing them around outside or fixing them eggs for breakfast or watching Charlotte’s Web with them or teaching them what “amazing” means or taking them to the library or showing them pictures of when they were babies or even telling them stories about their late Granddad Fred. But it is a big deal. It’s a very big deal.
October 22, 2007: Donutbuzz Pharmacy
October 21, 2007: It’s Getting Kinda Scary Here
October 20, 2007: Saturday Morning Shoutout Here’s a real gem from Jackie. Update: I had allowed comments for this entry. I’m taking the comments down because there’s no necessity for them. If you have thoughts about Jackie’s post, then I think it’s appropriate for you to address them on Jackie’s comment thread, not here. I apologize for removing anyone’s comments, but I simply did not intend for this to become a thread about Jackie’s meaning, motivation, etc. of his post. October 18, 2007: If You Still Think This Is A “PG” Blog, Think Again We’re goin’ blue with some Sesame Street and Scorsese. . . . Try not to spit/spill your drink.
October 17, 2007: If I Were King Of The Networks. . . . I’d be axing tee-vee shows right and left. Seriously. This season’s offerings stink. Let’s break ‘em down: 1. Gossip Girl. Rich teens in Manhattan? Oh, buddy, do we not have sufficient treatment about the lives of the wealthy on the tube? If you were to guess the living conditions in America based on only what you see on television shows, you’d think that most folks live in $750,000 homes--or have Ty Pennington build them for free. Oh well, this one’s on the CW, so I suppose that merits the Gossip Girl a pass. 2. Private Practice. I really had high expectations for this show. But then I also admit I faithfully watched every episode of Grey’s Anatomy until this season. (I finally stopped after the premiere-- when Izzy asked her interns to assist her with reviving an injured deer lying in a pickup truck. I kid you not.) But back to PP. This show is a pale, unimaginative retread of Grey’s. I also think there are more rich people on this one, too. 3. Pushing Daisies. Ah, a ray of hope in an otherwise dark and cloudy sky of television programming. From now on, when someone reads something here and suggests I’m using drugs, I’m going to remind them of this show. And then I’m going to tell them to STFU. 4. According to Jim. Renewed for a seventh season? A SEVENTH SEASON?? WTF?!? How the hell does this happen?!? 5. Bionic Woman. I know, I know. It’s not the same show as the original classic with Lindsay Wagner. It doesn’t matter. It’s still sacrilege. 6. Cavemen. Memo to ABC: You can’t top Fred Flintstone. Stop trying. 7. Big Shots. I really like Dylan McDermott. I do. I just don’t like him this much. 8. Kid Nation. There are times when I wonder if I’m getting the job done as a father. Then I think of all the people who greenlit Kid Nation, and all the folks who allowed their children to participate in it, and then I stop my worrying. 9. Reaper. Years from now, somebody who watches this one is going to ask for those hours back from his life, and, unfortunately, the devil’s not going to be there to make that deal. 10. Dirty Sexy Money. Hey, it’s a bird. . . it’s a plane. . . it’s another show featuring more wealthy folks!
October 13, 2007: Six Things That Scared Me When I Was Six 1. The “Abominable Snow Man” from Rudolph the Red Nosed-Reindeer. Never has clay animation succeeded in causing such fear for this six-year old. Although I knew the outcome, I always sweated bullets around every Christmas when I watched Yukon Cornelius take out his ice pick and hack off a piece of a ice from that glacier the moment that the Abominable one was about to attack the gang. Sure, the Abominable Snow Man rocks now, but back then I sounded like Burl Ives goin’ “Ooohhhh....wake me when it’s over” when the “Bumble” appeared.
3. The Blue Meanies from Yellow Submarine. Don’t get me wrong. I love The Beatles. Always have. Always will. But as a youngster, I found many of the animated images in their film--especially the Blue Meanies--both frightening and disturbing. It also didn’t help matters that I had to watch this film at a babysitter’s house where my parents had arranged for my care for several days and nights while they enjoyed themselves out West at some convention. I’ve also tried (unsuccessfully) to repress the memories of my stepping in cat poop at that babysitter’s house. I think I need to move on to the next scary thing from my childhood. . . . 4. The Beatles’ Eleanor Rigby. My father owned a jukebox that he stocked with dozens of 45s from the fifties and sixties. One of those singles was Eleanor Rigby, and every time I heard those harmonies and strings begin, it scared me. I made the mistake of telling my best friend, Sean, about my fear, and--of course--he made sure to break out his copy of The Beatles’ “Red Album” and play the tune for me at every opportunity. In specific, the song’s line “wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door” terrified me with its images. Note for note and word for word, though, I have to say that Eleanor Rigby now ranks as one of my favorite Beatles’ songs. (It only took about twenty years.) 5. Audrey Rose. Oh, man, did this film ever terrify me! I was afraid to leave my room for a week after I saw it, and, to this day, I have yet to see the film again. Some time, I might get the nerve to watch it. Fortunately, however, I have about one hundred movies in the Netflix queue and several seasons of awesome television shows I have to watch first. 6. 2001: A Space Odyssey. Where to begin? Let’s see. How about the first appearance of the monolith, the renegade computer Hal, Dave transforming into an elderly man, the second appearance of the monolith, the giant fetus. . . . You try explaining all that to a freaked out six-year old.
October 12, 2007: I Rarely Write About My Work. . . . But I had a hearing in Mothman’s hometown yesterday and that easily merits a blog post. As luck would have it, the hearing wasn’t over until nearly 6:30 p.m., and when Valareena (a lawyer in my firm whose real name is not “Valareena”) turned the key in the car’s ignition, her Ford Taurus wouldn’t start. After several unsuccessful tries, Valareena called one of her friends, and I contacted Jelly-Filled. When Valareena mentioned to her friend where she was, his immediate response “That’s where the Mothman lives!” only served to heighten our concerns about getting the hell out of that parking lot--a couple blocks away from the Mr. Mothman’s statue. Finally, after about twenty minutes of waiting, Valareena suggests that if she gets out of the car and kicks it, then this action will prompt the car to start. And I was like totally for it because: 1) It was getting dark; 2) We had no idea of Mothman’s whereabouts; and 3) I own a Ford Taurus, and it sounded like a perfectly sound and reasonable suggestion for getting that car started. The Valareena gets out of the vehicle, goes to the car’s left side, and kicks it twice. Each kick, I will add, shook the automobile. Valareena gets back in the car, puts the key in the ignition, and turns it. The car starts. Immediately. With a roar. This is exactly why I never joined Triple A.
October 10, 2007: Headline Poetry Irreconcilable Differences The congressional panel approves Armenian genocide measure, The abused workers fight back by slacking off, The golden retriever nurses a stray kitten. Reese Witherspoon and Ryan Phillippe’s divorce is final.
Obama says rivals have failed to act, Carter says U.S. tortures prisoners, Lohan says she’s focused on sobriety, Reese Witherspoon and Ryan Phillippe’s divorce is final.
Turkey hits suspected Kurdish rebels, UAW strike hits Kenosha plant, Timberlake hits big with ‘End of Time,’ Reese Witherspoon and Ryan Phillippe’s divorce is final.
Hip hop honors recharge Whodini, Gold jumps to near 28-year high on weak dollar, Reese Witherspoon and Ryan Phillippe’s divorce is final.
October 8, 2007: Talkin’ Baseball (Open Jacknut Nomination Edition) Dear Film Geek, please consider George Steinbrenner my jacknut nomination for this week. George Steinbrenner stated he’d likely fire Joe Torre if the New York Yankees don’t win the series against the Cleveland Indians. This is almost as ridiculous as outsourcing libraries, but even if baseball bores you more than your worst existential nightmare, let’s take a quick look at Manager Torre’s managerial record over the past decade: 1996: Yankees win World Series. 1997: Yankees win wild card, lose division series. 1998: Yankees win World Series again. 1999: . . . and again. . . 2000: . . . and again. . . 2001: Yankees lose World Series. 2002: Yankees win division, lose division series to Anaheim. (Anaheim defeats Giants in World Series.) 2003: Yankees lose World Series. 2004: Yankees win division, lose championship series to Boston. (Boston wins first World Series in eighty-six years, Red Sox nation celebrates like it’s 1918. Sorta.) 2005: Yankees win division, lose division series to Anaheim. 2006: Yankees win division again, lose division series to Tigers. (Tigers lose to Cardinals. Crap.) 2007: With the Yankees down 2 games to 0 against Cleveland, Steinbrenner states Torre’s job “is on the line.” Now let’s recap, shall we? In his twelve years as manager of the New York Yankees, Joe Torre has helped his teams win no fewer than: 4 World Series 2 American League Championships 4 Division titles 2 Wild Card titles You don’t need to be Bill James to see that Joe Torre’s done an amazing job as manager. Half the time he’s managed the Yankees, the team’s reached the World Series. One-third of the time, the team wins the World Series. And, of course, every season, year in and year out for the past twelve (12!) years, Torre’s Yankees have made the playoffs. Damn Yankees indeed. Torre’s an awesome manager, and hopefully sanity will prevail. But, in the meantime: GO CLEVELAND!
October 6, 2007: I Need A Halloween Costume Back in July, while having lunch with Film Geek, I mentioned how much I anticipated the month of August: “It’s gonna be smooth sailing,” I said. That reminded me of Mike Brady because, as I recall, he said the same thing to his family right before Mr. Howell locked him, Carol and all the kids in the jail and then everyone had to take off their shoes and use their shoelaces to to string the shoes together so that they could swing the giant shoe rope to knock the jail key off the hook so that they could escape. You know, this actually reminds me of a “Survivor” episode. I think it was the pirate-themed season with Rupert and Johnny Fairplay. But it’s not late July anymore and in between my last half dozen road trips in the past four weeks and adjusting to our family’s new schedule, I’m having difficulty accepting how quickly the last couple months have passed. I should correct that. I can’t believe how quickly the past year has flown by. Wasn’t it just a few months ago that I was posting about Lost’s upcoming third season, our family’s Halloween adventures and, of course, Ken Berry? Man, do I miss seeing Ken Berry in prime time! You know he was on The Brady Bunch, right? The point of all this is that as far as I’m concerned, Halloween’s going to be here tomorrow, and I still have no clue on what my costume is. (I can’t go as a guy wearing a pumpkin, however, because I believe Jackie has the trademark on that one. And although I’d love to go as a giant hot dog, I’m not sure if our blogger buddies at the hot dog blog are planning something big along these lines.) I’m going to throw out some ideas I’m considering, and if anyone has a better one, please let me know: 1. Future version of myself. This is the quickest, easiest costume. I wear my usual casual clothes (t-shirt, jeans) and tell everyone I’ve traveled back from tomorrow. Then I give everyone stock tips on tomorrow’s great breakouts. When everyone loses their money, I tell them that I’m not liable because they took the advice from “future me,” not me. 2. Intoxicated party guest. This is the second easiest costume. I take off my pants, wear a pair of “Bart Simpson” boxers and carry an empty bottle of scotch everywhere I go. Actually, I’ve worn this costume with good results when I was in law school. 3. Giant chinchilla mascot. Truth told, I think most people underestimate the popularity of this one. Trouble is that you never can find one on such short notice. As I said, any ideas would be appreciated. Thanks.
October 5, 2007: We Interrupt Banned Books Week For A Special Announcement They’re outsourcing libraries. Damn. Does Starbucks know?
October 4, 2007: Banned Books Week, Day 6 Did you know that Where’s Waldo ranks #88 on the ALA’s “100 Most Frequently Challenged Books List”? It’s true: Amazing. And you have to wonder, too, about someone who not only takes the time to notice those “tiny cartoon breasts” in a Where’s Waldo book but also reports them to somebody at the library: “Hello, this is Max in the ‘Report the Book You Want to Ban Department’ at your local library, how may I help you?” “Um. . . yeah. We got a big problem, Max, with one of your children’s books.” “Oh, In the Night Kitchen? Yes, sir. We took care of that last week, and gave Mickey the liquid paper underwear!” “No, Max. I’m not talking about the obviously objectionable nudity in that Sendak book. I got bigger fish to fry, pal. I’m talkin’ ‘bout something of much greater concern. I’m talkin’ ‘bout those tiny cartoon boobies in the Where’s Waldo!” “Omigosh. Tiny cartoon boobies?!? I can’t believe I missed those. I was so busy looking for Waldo that I guess I didn’t see them!” “Yeah, Max. Believe me. They’re there. I’m looking at them right now. They’re about three inches south, southeast from Waldo on the tenth page of the book I’m holding. No, wait. Make that two and a half inches. My ruler slipped.” “Oh, boy. Ok. Can you hold the phone? I’ll need to make a report right away!”
October 1, 2007: Banned Books Week, Day 3 Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody. --Holden Caufield in J.D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye, No. 13 on the ALA’s “100 Most Frequently Challenged Books List” I’ve loved J.D. Salinger since I first read Catcher in the Rye. In high school, which I suppose is when most of us J.D. Salinger fans first became acquainted with him, I devoted several weeks to a research paper on him. When I learned about his reclusive nature, that only intrigued me even more. For my research paper on Salinger, I visited Kanawha County Public Library. I remember spending hours looking through old magazines searching for any information on him. Now with a few quick keystrokes and the click of a mouse, we can retrieve everything I discovered twenty-five years ago about Salinger right here, right now. (Wikipedia’s like CliffsNotes on steroids.) As the decades pass, though, Holden Caulfield remains a relevant character. In today’s world, I easily see Holden as a blogger. He’s incredibly engaging, frank, and, of course, he’s not shy when it comes to talking about sex--all ingredients for a very readable--if not popular--blog. I also imagine that Holden wouldn’t take too kindly to trolls and others who might leave profane and irrelevant comments on his blog. He’d probably delete the comments he found offensive, and although I’m not a fan of those who delete comments, I’d make an absolute exception for Holden because he’s the “catcher in the rye” and all. Most of all, what I see in Holden Caulfield is someone who is on a quest to seek a connection with people. Throughout the novel, there’s an incredible poignancy to Holden’s observations that reveal so many truths about us--and both our humanity and inhumanity to one another. It’s one of those rare books whose tone still resonates with me after first reading it over two decades ago.
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