All in all I suppose it’s a decent film, and the art direction is pretty rad.  But I do have a few major issues to present.  These are things that probably don’t bother most people, but make me want to tear out my eyelashes, like Kathy Griffin’s assistant Tom.

1.  I hate Diana Ross’s face.  It’s really hard to watch her sing and cry and, you know, speak.  It’s like watching a skeleton with an afro, it’s very off-putting.

2.  WTF is up with MJ’s nose?  A foreshadowing of future rhino-nasty perhaps? It really looks like a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup wrapper was glued onto his face.  I don’t get it.  If I were a crow, I would fly straight to it in an attempt to score some kickass candy.  But luckily for him, the worst nose in the movie isn’t his, it’s Lena Horne’s.  Ick.

3. The Cowardly Lion is BLATANTLY brave.  Also, Mr. Idon’thaveabrain walks around quoting Shakespeare, and the Tin Man says he doesn’t have the ability to feel and spends the whole movie crying buckets.  No transitional periods, no moments of discovery, just obvious digs to the contrary.

4.  The Tin Man is apparently made of copper.  (But I <3 Nipsey Russell so it’s aaaaall gooood)

5. The Yellow Brick Road isn’t made of bricks.

6.  With the exception of few, namely, Mabel King and Richard Pryor, the acting is pretty much awful.

7.  Dorothy is horrible and selfish and deep down she really only cares about her dog.  In the scene where the Wicked Witch of the West has taken them all captive, she demands that Dorothy give her the silver slippers.  Of course she disobeys, and the witch proceeds to maim and torture her friends one by one, and that bitch doesn’t do SHIT until the witch threatens to throw Toto in the fire.  THEN she’s all ready to give up the shoes.  Jesus, Dorothy!  Your friends have been DISMANTLED and you make absolutely NO attempts to save them, but a little singed doggie hair and you’re ready to throw in the towel?!

I have absolutely no investment in Dorothy’s character.  I don’t want her to get home.  Nobody should be that excited about going back to Harlem, anyway.   And I don’t care if the others get to see the Wizard, because from the moment you are introduced to them it’s obvious that they don’t need to.  I find it all very confusing and weird.  But at least we get to hear MJ sing.

Unused ticket for "To Tell the Truth," November 5, 1974

36 years ago on Tuesday November 5, 1974 I attended a taping of “To Tell the Truth.” It also happened to be Election Day. A regular panelist on the show at that time was the fun-loving Nipsey Russell, who had a poem for every occasion… and Election Day was no different.

Not yet 14-years old, I didn’t totally understand the poem he recited that day, but I never forgot it. And in time I learned why it was so funny.

It will help if you try to read this with Nipsey’s classic delivery in your mind:

I’ve written a poem about politics,

I think you should read it before you vote,

It’s about the Democrats, the Republicans, and the taxpayers,

And it’s called the donkey, the elephant, and the goat 

Unused ticket for "To Tell the Truth," November 5, 1974

Nipsey Russell died on October 2, 2005 at age 87. The man never failed to put a smile on my face.

Why does it have to be dialed into a specific race? Case in point – Tyler Perry.

I have nothing against him personally. As a fellow brother of color I respect him for squeezing Hollywood by the balls and doing what he wants to do. He’s an excellent role model for not just young African Americans but young people in general. My dislike has nothing to do with his uncanny popularity or fabulous wealth. It’s not his ability to self promote and self produce nor do I question his unwavering support of ethnic communities. In fact I commend him for all those admirable qualities. I don’t like him because I don’t like what he represents with regards to comedy.

I’ve grown up listening to and watching black comedians all my life. Bill Cosby, Nipsey Russell, Paul Mooney, Richard Pryor, Eddie Murphy, etc. I was on the Def Comedy Jam bandwagon when it first rolled out and was a die hard fan of The Chappelle Show. Racial difference has always been an inexhaustible fuel for all these brilliant minds but for some reason I just don’t get Perry or his humor. I sit there and watch him parade around in his “angry black momma” outfit as he plays up pretty much every African American stereotype to near preposterous levels.

So what’s wrong with that?

Nothing. I know his work is a lot deeper than just his rather annoying Madea character. Comedians have done over the top interpretations of other races forever. Exaggerated stereotypes are the foundation of comedy. What got my fire started was reading one review of Diary of a Mad Black Woman. In it a young African American woman remarked about “how refreshing it was to have some real black comedy out there”. I toiled with this remark for a while. To my recollection “black comedy” referred to dark humor that was meant to make you laugh and feel discomfort all at once by dealing with socially taboo subject matter. I thought back to the commercials I’d seen with Madea and couldn’t fathom that this was the comedy style she was referring to so I continued read. Review after review from different sources, the reoccurring theme was that Tyler Perry’s comedy appeals to the black community.

Really?

I felt like an outcast. Was I the only black person who didn’t like Tyler Perry’s comedy? I felt conflicted. It was almost as though I felt morally obligated to like his comedy lest I be ostracized from the African American community for being a heretic. So I watched House of Payne. 5 minutes later I was back to watching an episode of Seinfeld I’d seen a thousand times now where George wanted Jerry to tell a potential employer that he worked for him as a latex salesman at Vanderlay Industries. Uh oh. I really must be the devil in disguise now. That’s certainly not black comedy.

But wait…

I know black people that watch Seinfeld too. What’s going on?

I started to think back to the days of In Living Color. That was an amazing show. Keenan Ivory Wayans was like Mr. Perry in that he produced many (if not all) of his own work. With the aide of the Wayans Armada they dominated the television scene for a number of years. Their comedy was regarded as highly controversial in the early goings but I can’t recall it ever being referred to as black comedy. Sure there were black comedians and the subject matter often involved racial differences but it wasn’t strictly focused towards the African American community. People who liked the show were from all different backgrounds and walks of life. I was confused now. Did this mean that their comedy wasn’t legit because it wasn’t specifically geared towards the black community?

I continued to ponder.

Then it dawned on me. Comedy is comedy. Comedy doesn’t have one color. It has all colors. Comedy can be as vulgar as Bob Saget or as family friendly as Bill Cosby. It can be as ambiguously demented as Nikki Payne or as racially motivated as Russell Peters. To segregate comedy into black, white, Hispanic, Asian, etc only takes away from what it is meant to do. Comedy is meant to bring everyone together for a laugh – not just specific people. So Tyler Perry, I apologize to you. I do not hate what you’ve done for comedy after all. You’re obviously an ingenious maverick that knows what he’s doing having grossed over $350,000,000 in the past 4 years alone in ticket and DVD sales. Keep on making movies and television shows. You have an audience out there is watching them and laughing so you’re doing your job. I now know that what I hate is what your fans represent. By labeling what you do as black comedy takes away from what you’re accomplishing and sends the world back another few steps into ignorance. Grow up people and appreciate comedy for being comedy and not a color.

SCUTTLEBUTT: According to Little Rock photographer, Brian Cormack the story goes something like this: “The Big Rock was noticed by French explorer Jean-Baptiste Bénard de La Harpe in 1722, who called the hill “Le Rocher Français” or “French Rock.”  Le Harpe is also the guy who called a nearby smaller outcrop along the Arkansas River “little rock,” a name that stuck around….when the French explorers were sailing up the Arkansas River, Native Americans [Quapaws] told them of a massive green rock along the river…the explorers thought that it must be a massive jewel-encrusted rock…the large green rock they had been dreaming about was just a bluff with trees on it.”

SKINNY: Zeb, thank you for the question. I know the spot where you and your family were on Rebsamen Park Road. You were heading east past the Rebsamen Golf Course and just before Rebsamen becomes Riverfront Drive there it is that great wall of rock on the North Little Rock side of the river…..

For more on Big Rock, Arkansas check out The Plainclothesman at Sync Weekly.

It doesn’t take much to make me happy.

Through most of my childhood, and then early adulthood, one television genre made me deliriously joyous. Not movies on HBO. Not sports on  ESPN.

Game Shows. And when it came out, the Game Show Network! I have an unnatural love for game shows, dating back to watching “The Price is Right” at home with my grandparents when I was home sick (“why is Bob Barker such a bad golfer?” I would ask, to blank stares.)

I loved “The Joker’s Wild” and the bizarre three prizes you would get in the bonus round. I loved “Tic Tac Dough,” especially the way Wink Martindale would say “Correct!” to the contestants (following a dramatic pause, of course).

 I worshipped “Card Sharks,” and “Press Your Luck,” and of course, “Sale of the Century,” which my friend Marc Feigelson and I agreed was the best show ever.

My ultimate No.1 fave, though, was always “$25,000 Pyramid. Dick Clark, a couple of random celebrities (please welcome Susan Ruutan and Burt Reynolds!), and fantastic clues in the bonus round (“things that are moist,” was always fun).

Anyway, I bring all this up now because my long national nightmare is over. After living in two successive locales that did not get the Game Show Network on their cable systems, Bright House Networks here in Central Florida finally added it yesterday.

Give me Gene Rayburn in horrible suits! (can you imagine if they had HD  Show me Richard Dawson kissing all the women on “Family Feud!” (which by the way, is a Facebook game now that I”m pretty addicted to). Bring me the head of Chuck Woolery on “Scrabble!”

I watched three episodes of “$25,000 Pyramid” and its illegitimate cousin, “$100,000 Pyramid” Friday morning. There was even one episode where Nipsey Russell AND Vicki Lawrence were on (if you were fans of the show, you know that’s like having Joe DiMaggio and Lou Gehrig in the same lineup. Those two were fantastic).

I am a happy man.

**And now, the greatest “Pyramid” player of all time. Not Nipsey Russell. Not Betty White. The legendary Billy Crystal, who is to the Winner’s Circle what Secretariat was to horse racing (hey, it’s Kentucky Derby day, thought I’d go with a horse analogy there).

Watch and marvel:

**Finally, there are a lot of things being written and said about Arizona’s new immigration law. I have plenty of thoughts on it, but that’s for another day. For now, I leave you with this hilarious “story” from the great Sportspickle.com, a sports humor web site:

Arizona outfielder Gerardo Parra pulled from lineup for looking quite Mexican

Arizona Diamondbacks outfielder Gerardo Parra was pulled out of the batter’s box during his first plate appearance last night after several Arizona fans reported to stadium police that Parra looked suspiciously Mexican.

“Under the new state law, we have to follow up on these things,” said a stadium security spokesman. “And it’s good we did. He didn’t have the required paperwork.”

Parra told police he is from Venezuela, not Mexico, but had no official identification on him at the plate. “His wristbands had his name on them, but that’s not good enough,” said arresting office Lt. Michael Dellesardo. “It’s pretty easy to get fake wristbands these days.”

Parra was arrested on the field and is now awaiting a deportation hearing. Arizona manager AJ Hinch replaced Parra in the lineup with Cole Gillespie. “Cole is our fourth outfielder and has great potential,” said Hinch. “Because he’s white.”

Girl, do you know that you’re 24 years old, and you’ve never been south of 125th Street? Well, you haven’t!

– Aunt Em

I have only seen bits and pieces of African-American interpretation of the classic story The Wonderful Wizard of Oz simply called The Wiz. I know some of the famous songs in the films like “If You Believe”, “No Bad News” and “Ease on Down the Road”. I don’t remember anything else. I was surprised that Sidney Lumet directed this movie when I looked up his credits on IMDb. This film was nominated for 4 Academy Awards in 1979, but it came away empty handed. I can understand why.

This version of story taken place in Harlem where the introverted Dorothy (Diana Ross) is a 24-year-old kindergarten teacher living with his Aunt Em (Theresa Merritt) and Uncle Henry (Stanley Greene). During a Thanksgiving celebration, Aunt Em tries to persuade Dorothy to accept a high school teaching position. Dorothy is reluctant to move on with her life. She is comfortable staying in Harlem at the same apartment.

When she tries to take out the garbage, her dog Toto runs out of the apartment into the massive snowstorm. When she recovers him, a funnel cloud whisks her into Munchkin Land where people come alive from the graffiti on the walls. When Dorothy and Toto crash into the land from the Oz ceiling, she kills the Wicked Witch of the East, Evermean. She frees the munchkins from the evil reign of Evermean, who inherits her silver high heel shoes from the Good Witch of the North, Miss One (Thelma Carpenter). Dorothy desperately wants to go home. Miss One tells Dorothy to fellow the yellow brick road to the Emerald City to find the Wiz (Richard Pryor) who is the only person that could send her back home.

Dorothy is left wandering around Oz that resembles New York City until she meets the Scarecrow (Michael Jackson) the next day. He is surrounded by the Four Crows (Derrick Bell, Roderick-Spencer Sibert, Kashka Banjoko, Ronald ‘Smokey’ Stevens) that refuses to let him down to watch around his garden. Dorothy intervenes and frees him. She wants to bring Scarecrow along who wants to find a brain from the Wiz.

They find the yellow brick road and find the Tin Man (Nipsey Russell) who was trapped under fallen props at an amusement park and the Cowardly Lion (Ted Ross) at a local library front. They tag along for Tin Man to find a heart and the Lion to find courage. In order to go to the Wiz, they have to kill the Wicked Witch of West, Evillene (Mabel King).

I have no words to say about this movie. I was happy watching the bits and pieces that I have seen. This movie is over two hours long. It felt like six hours. I am not exaggerating. The sequences go on repeatedly for far too long. I cannot believe that this movie was nominated for any Oscars, except for the music. I thought the music was the only saving grace in this steaming pile of a film.

Judgment: Buy the soundtrack instead. Save yourself the torture to your eyes.

Rating: *1/2

download: Soul Into You

-Needed to reup this incase you were asleep. Soulmixtape 2 coming soon…

First off, I noticed David Johansen trying way too hard to talk like Joe E. Ross. If he was trying to embody the essence of the loveable and hilarious Gunther Toody, that was not the way to do it. He should have tried another tactic. He was in a scene with Rosie O’ Donnell, who was the bossy, fussy Lucille. She wasn’t too bad, but something was still missing. I did get to see Nipsey and Lewis, who reprised their roles as Anderson and Schnauser. Anderson, who was dispatcher in the series, was now Captain Anderson, while Schnauser was still good ‘ol Leo. I didn’t see his loudmouth wife Sylvia, though. When Leo was in the hospital after a mishap at his birthday party, he was lying in bed watching Grandpa Munster on “The Munsters”. I thought that was a tacky scene. However, the worst was yet to come. In the beginning, Toody was not partners with Francis Muldoon. I didn’t catch the name of his partner. Muldoon showed up for the first time later- and it was a complete disaster. I don’t know who’s idea it was to write him this way. He and Toody had absolutely NO chemistry together. Muldoon had no personality whatsoever. He was the equivalent of a wet mop, mixed with this harsh, annoying demeanor, nothing at all like the original. Muldoon was always a favorite of mine- sweet, shy, with a heart of gold. After about five more minutes, I hurriedly turned off the tv. I couldn’t stand anymore.

 Instead, I began to remember how and why I fell so in love with the tv show. It began almost 20 years earlier, when I was 18. Nick at Nite was brand to me. I was able to watch shows I had only heard about, like “Mister Ed”, “The Patty Duke Show”, The Donna Reed Show”, and “Laugh-In”. Unlike these, I had never heard of “Car 54 Where Are You?” before. Nor did I take to it right away. I would glance at it here and there, mostly in passing. The thing that did catch my attention was seeing both Fred Gwynne and Al Lewis without their “Munsters” makeup. However, this alone did not trigger my attention. One night, I actually sat down and watched part of an episode. I was instantly hooked. The show was unbelievably funny, and brilliantly written, with a very gifted cast. I had fallen in love with the guys from the 53rd Precinct in the Bronx, and just had to see them every night. Toody and Muldoon was always getting themselves into some kind of a hilarious situation, time and time again, often to the dismay of their boss, Captain Block. 

Although “Car 54″ was only on the air for two years, it is one of the best shows I’ve had the pleasure of watching. It made its debut in September 1961, ten years before I was born. The real glue and heart and soul of the show was the dynamic chemistry between Joe E. Ross and Fred Gwynne. The two could not have been more different, both on the show, or in real life. Toody was loud, silly, and not very bright, while Muldoon was very shy, tall, and intelligent. Toody lived with his domineering wife, Lucille. Muldoon still lived at home with his Mother. Meanwhile, Joe E. Ross dropped out of high school, and became a singing waiter before becoming a comedian. Fred Gwynne was a Harvard graduate. During the show’s run, Gwynne was a husband and father, living in Westchester, while Ross was a bachelor who resided in Manhattan. Despite their extreme differences, they clicked beautifully on screen. Their supportive cast was outstanding also. Beatrice Pons, Charlotte Rae, Hank Garrett, Fred O’ Neal, Ossie Davis, Nipsey Russell, Al Lewis, Paul Reed… The perfect group of people to have within their midst.

 Another aspect about the show which really made it stand apart is the presence of actors of various races and ethnicities, a first for a show in the early ’60s. They were not there in a position of servitude, or the butt of everyone’s jokes. They were there because that’s what the real world is like. Everyone was on the same level. According to Fred Gwynne’s biography on the BIO channel, this was one of the things he liked best about working on the show, the chance to work with actors from various cultures. “Car 54″ creator and director Nat Hiken won an Emmy for directing in 1962, an honor which was rightfully deserved.

By the time season two had come to a close, “Car 54″ was still a top 20 show. However, Nat Hiken was under intense pressure to write, produce and direct, so when the time came, he did not pursue a renewal of the show. He was obviously trying to reduce the level of stress he was already enduring. Therefore, the show was canceled- basically for nothing. It most certainly did not get the opportunity to run its course. I had wondered for years why the show ended when it did. It was disheartening to find this out. A delightful show ending its run prematurely because of this kind of nonsense??? There should have been another solution than this.

 Nat Hiken passed away, due a heart attack, in 1968. His wife claimed the excessive and demanding work on “Car 54″ took a toll on his health. Joe E. Ross passed away of a heart attack as well, while performing on stage in the clubhouse of his apartment building, in 1982. Fred Gwynne lost his battle with pancreatic cancer in 1993. Most of the supporting cast have also passed away. As far as I know, the only surviving members are Charlotte Rae, Hank Garrett, and Larry Storch, who was Charlie the drunk.

 ”Car 54″ is one of those shows not known very well by the general public. It is one of those hidden treasures, and today, it seems even more hidden.  The programming on Nick at Nite today is of more recent sitcoms. However, those hidden treasures are the best of all. The movie does not even begin to compare. I would suggest avoiding it. If you’ve never watched the show, you will get the wrong idea, an inaccurate portrayal. If you have watched the show, you will be disappointed with what you will see. Stick with the original. Pick up the entire series on DVD like I did.

It’s a bit belated, but with so much festive goings on in the neighborhood and points North, South, East, and West the Doop Crew has been too busy toasting the world with real champagne to think about virtual merriment… but from our mangy manger to yours, Merry Christmas from Doopalus Plus! We had a most festive tree trimming (the Banjo’s first tree), finding the only fluffy scotch pine I’ve ever seen for sale at the strange and marvelous Tom Joad migrant Christmas Tree Shanties that spring up out of the pavement nothingness across New York City next to bodegas and churches after Thanksgiving. I had enough ornaments on hand for a spindly tree (read: the most extravagant fake tree I could afford from the country KMart upon discovering that my college roommate was allergic to Christmas… another corollary: when I moved to Brooklyn I donated the tree to the Salvation Army on Atlantic Avenue where my donation receipt read: One (1) EXTREMELY Large Wicker Basket, One (1) Pair 1986 Skis, Seventeen (17) pairs high heels, One (1) Artificial Christmas Tree), but not enough ornaments for such a large and full specimen, so we festooned the tree with everything we had on hand: tiny feathered birds, prisms from the Le marche aux puces de Saint Ouen, dollar store baubles, and a chinatown dragon from cousin Charlotte. Nipsey helped set it all up:

And dear folk, Christmas wouldn’t be complete without the celebrated Hornsby Family Egg Nog (made from scratch, served with love and fresh nutmeg). Our family is one of barrel chested watermen-turned-oilmen, consummate entertainers, gentlemen raconteurs, merry pranksters, music makers and songstresses, and intimates of the marvelous stiff southern drink… when it would be Christmas at the Big House, laughter would shake the chandeliers. This recipe, which comes from the Hornsby Family Cookbook, should be tripled for a festive gathering of 20 or more:

And a very merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight!

For those of you who might not know, Nipsey Russell was the “Poet Laureate of Television”. Though his career is varied and extensive, and his talents manifold, I first became aware of Nipsey as a  frequent guest on my favorite game show of all time, Pyramid. Hosted by the teak-faced Dick Clark and often featuring prizes such as sony walkmen, casio keyboards, and trips to Puerto Vallarta, Pyramid in the early 1980′s is the culmination of game show valor and skill, shoulder pads, and Mr. Russell’s impromptu verse:

Nipsey, known for breaking color barriers, freestyling rhymes (spawning many imitators), and pairing the brightest smile with the hypest turtlenecks, passed away five years ago this week. He was, and will continue to be, one hip cat.

My cat, Nipsey Russell

“The girl that I would marry. Need not be young and fair. She should be a nymphomaniac. And be a millionaire!”

So I’m one of those people fascinated by what motivates others. Maybe I’m just curious that way, but I always love to ask athletes that I interview, whether they’re famous like basketball star Jerry Stackhouse or not-so-famous like Larry Burney (former quarterback for Laney High School in Wilmington, N.C.; what, you never heard of him?), what drives them, and makes them want to do better.

Sometimes it’s a tragedy from their past, sometimes it’s a parent who always told them they’d never amount to anything, or sometimes it’s a reason I never in a million years could’ve guessed.

I was thinking about all this today after hearing the news that three American scientists won the Nobel Prize for medicine Monday. Apparently they made key discoveries about how our living cells age; I don’t quite understand it but it appears to be a huge deal.

And here’s my question for Elizabeth Blackburn of the University of California, San Francisco; Carol Greider of Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore; and Jack Szostak of Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston: What now?

When you’ve reached just about as high as you can go in your profession, what motivates you after that? Elizabeth, Carol and Jack have worked their whole lives in their field, praying for the kind of breakthrough they made last year, and probably also wondering how cool it would be to win a Nobel.

Do you want to keep working harder now, and discover something else awesome? Or are you just content for the rest of your life that anytime you’re ever introduced, anywhere, someone will mention that “you know, they won a Nobel Prize.”

I know if I ever won a Pulitzer, I think I’d sit on the couch for the rest of my life eating Chee-tos and watching old Duke basketball and New York Rangers games, along with an occasional episode of “The 25,000 Pyramid.” (Best game show ever! I may one day soon have to do a long blog post about why it’s the best game show ever, just in case it’s not self-evident. Two words: Nipsey. Russell. But I digress).

But hey, that’s me. Some people are wired differently. That’s what makes life so interesting. I’m amazed at people who win TWO Nobel Prizes, like Marie Curie or Linus Pauling, or two Pulitzers, like Thornton Wilder or Robert Penn Warren.

They reach the top, and then keep going. I admire that so much.

**OK, so this is just all kinds of amazing. This has been circulating on the Net for a few days so you may have seen it. A baseball announcer, in a pre-game prediction, gets the exact at-bat circumstances right for a Seattle Mariners player’s first-ever home run. Scary.

**This is probably not a national story, but a terrible tragedy happened in Orlando recently. A 17-year-old girl named Bree McMahon, a girls soccer player at Freedom High School, was working at a car wash to raise money for her school. A person who had pulled up to the car wash had their foot accidentally slip off the brake and onto the gas pedal, and it slammed into Bree, pinning her against a wall. She’s had to have one leg amputated and is fighting for her life right now.

What an unbelievably horrible thing. In one second, this girl’s life changed forever.

Orlando Sentinel columnist Mike Bianchi beautifully tells the story; I link it here because A, we all should remember how precious life is, and B, at the end it tells you how you can help this poor girl’s family. Donations to Breanna’s recovery fund can be made through any local Orlando branch of the Old Southern Bank. (http://www.oldsouthernbank.com/

***And since I don’t like to end on a down note, here’s another home run of an essay by my favorite sportswriter Joe Posnanski, who perfectly sums up what it means to be a kid, and have a sports hero.

Sometimes, they don’t let you down when you grow up.

itinerant [ahy-tin-er-uhnt, i-tin-] adj. 1. traveling from place to place, esp. on a circuit, as a minister, judge, or sales representative; itinerating; journeying 2. characterized by such traveling: itinerant preaching 3. working in one place for a comparatively short time and then moving on to work in another place, usually as a physical or outdoor laborer; characterized by alternating periods of working and wandering: an itinerant farm hand ∞ n. 4. a person who alternates between working and wandering 5. a person who travels from place to place, esp. for duty or business

BIRTHDAY

Marco Polo (1254), James Fenimore Cooper (1789), William Howard Taft (1857), Agatha Christie (1890), John N. Mitchell (1913), Nipsey Russell (1918), Bobby Short (1924), Cannonball Adderley (1928), Merlin Olsen (1940), Tommy Lee Jones (1946), Oliver Stone (1946), Wendie Jo Sperber (1958), Dan Marino (1961), Josh Charles (1971), Prince Henry of Wales (1984)

STANDPOINT

So, I was going to write about the plight of professional athletes in Philadelphia but I decided it’d be best to weigh in on this Kanye West-Taylor Swift debacle from the MTV Video Music Awards a couple of nights ago.

West, apparently upset that Beyoncé didn’t win in the Best Female Video category, came onstage and grabbed the microphone from Swift to publicly voice his objections to the final result. And everyone’s world was turned upside-down.

And rightfully so. It appeared as if Swift, one of the great thinkers of her generation, was about to share some of her poignant inner perspectives with all of us out here in the huddled masses. But West robbed everyone of hearing those life-changing words. For that, my friends, we should never forget or forgive. There was a great injustice done this past Sunday night. One that will undoubtedly leave a permanent mark on every facet of our society. Truly.

OK. If you’re having trouble figuring out the point I’m attempting to make, I’ll break it down for you – what Kanye West did to Taylor Swift doesn’t really matter for the simple reason that…well…it just doesn’t matter. I’m sure Swift was traumatized by the whole ordeal and I’m equally certain we’ll be hearing some overly-produced piece of fluff (that she and others will call “a song”) and she’ll be just fine.

President Obama was right when he called West “a jackass.” He didn’t say “enemy of the public.” Or “heinous criminal.” West acted like a jackass. Just like a lot of people you know.

Bottom line? It’s all about publicity and entertainment. I’d bet all of ten of my fingers that West and Swift have already privately resolved the situation. Unfortunately, the rest of us, dominated by the mindless, ultra-driven individuals who love to tell us what’s important and what’s not, will have to hear about this for a long time. Or, more likely until the end of the week. But it’ll feel like forever. At least to me.

QUOTATION

I always look for a woman who has a tattoo.  I see a woman with a tattoo, and I’m thinking, okay, here’s a gal who’s capable of making a decision she’ll regret in the future. ◊ Richard Jeni

TUNE

I thought since today would’ve been jazz great Cannonball Adderley‘s 81st birthday, it’d be best to commemorate it by sharing “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy” – one of the greatest songs of all-time.

GALLIMAUFRY

→ Man, is this the year of the celebrity death or what? Sad to report Patrick Swayze died yesterday at the age of 57, finally losing his fight with pancreatic cancer. Swayze, while he was not always consistently making hit movies, was in some of the most popular films of all-time. The Outsiders. Red Dawn. Dirty Dancing. Road House. Ghost. Point Break. Donnie Darko. Rest In Peace, Dalton. BY THE WAY, I’d love for everyone who reads this to weigh-in on their favorite Patrick Swayze movie/moment.

→ One thing that will never ever change is this country’s obsession with “Seinfeld.” And rightfully so. Jerry and crew observed one of the most important rules of show business – always leaving the audience wanting more. And it is more we are about to receive as the cast of the popular sitcom ever will reunite on “Seinfeld” co-creator Larry David’s HBO series “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” Not exactly sure what the context will be, but Jerry Seinfeld, Jason Alexander, Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Michael Richards will all appear on the third episode of the upcoming season.

→ I know you all are just excited as I am the Philadelphia Flyers opened up training camp this past weekend. What’s that? You’re not? Well, you should be. Jerk.

T.K. was kind enough to continue having lunch and chatting with me, despite the fact that I had just met him and was prying into his personal life.  As he answered my question, he said something very interesting, something upon which I still frequently reflect.  I am going to state it here and hope that I do his words justice…

In the Indian culture with respect to arranged marriages, people recognize that being married is a partnership, much like a business.  You come together because you have the same goals and the same values, and then you work to build a life and family with each other.  You focus on discovering all of the things that make your partner lovable, because everyone is lovable in so many ways.

I immediately saw the contrast between what T.K. described and what I had been living.  In my world, we date by a process of elimination.  We meet someone, get to know them, and, when we find something about them we don’t like, we end it and move on.  A few months prior to my conversation with T.K., I had actually broken up with someone because he said almost everything twice (No really, it was very annoying.  No really, it was very annoying).  But in fairness, it wasn’t just me.  What about Seinfeld?  Remember the woman he dumped because she ate her peas one at a time?  And there were many other examples of people I knew personally who broke up with a potential partner because he or she wasn’t “The One.”  In our culture, we hunt for a perfect person, a soul mate, someone with whom we will live Happily-Ever-After.  The search itself is the challenge – after all, you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find that Prince – but once that wonderful and amazing person has been located, all of the problems are solved and the rest is easy.  As Nipsey Russell would say, “Riiiight.”

It was like a light bulb went off in my head.  Of course!  We are all going about this the wrong way!  Focusing on our perfect match makes us miss how many wonderful people are out there.  More importantly, expecting a partner to be perfect likely leads to failed relationships and disappointment in the end, because no one can live up to such unrealistic expectations.  I started to notice examples of an approach to love and marriage that was generally backwards:  romantic comedies (which I rarely watch unless I am pre-menstrual or hung-over) which always end when the two people wind up together; and dating game shows, like The Bachelor or The Bachelorette, where someone searches for a person to pair off with and the resulting relationship is just a footnote in a future issue of US Magazine.  In both cases, the difficult search is the point and, once complete, the story is over.  But in reality, once you commit to someone is when the real work starts.  I realized that a myth had been perpetrated on our society and, to a large degree, I blamed the Brothers Grimm.

The implications for this learning are even broader than romantic relationships.  Imagine what would happen if you focused your attention on the lovable aspects of those with whom you have relationships, instead of what annoys you?  What if you didn’t notice your son’s socks on the floor but instead enjoyed how he always offers to help with the dishes?  What if you let an unsolicited opinion from your mother slide, but appreciated that she brings food for you every time she visits?  What if you spent less time caring that one of your employees always comes in at 9:05am and instead valued that he is self-directed and always completes his work before it’s due?  In other words, what if we stopped expecting people to be perfect because they are already perfect enough?

Maybe I am an idealist, and perhaps what I am describing is an unattainable utopia.  I know from my own experience that it is often easier said than done.  Even so, I believe it to be a worthwhile pursuit to focus my attention on the lovable qualities of the people around me, because everyone is lovable in so many ways.  Thanks T.K.!

Speaking of tired, for everyone worried about Senator Ted Kennedy (who was taken from the Inaugural lunch to the hospital in an ambulance yesterday) I heard he has been released and is expected back to work soon. 

In watching recaps of the days events at the Capital building and a special History channel tour of the White House, I may have found a solution to our current economic woes. Just melt down all the gold in these two buildings and use it to pay off our National debt. The money the country can save by not having to make those monthly payments can then be used to hire out-of-work Americans to repair our crumbling bridges and roads, convert all federal and state buildings to solar, wind, and geothermal power and give every American a little extra something to pad their pockets with. 

I think Nipsey Russell said it best in 1974 when he said, “To slow down this recession and make our economy thrive, give us our social security now and we’ll go to work when we’re 65.”

• Both countries show a lot of football. It’s very different kinds of football, but it’s a lot of football. We saw at least pieces of the England-Kazakhstan World Cup qualifying match (and heard no fewer than five Borat jokes within our first hour on the ground as a result), the Germany-Wales game, and the England-Belarus match, and can therefore report that although the graphics leading into and out of breaks are just as mind-numbingly repetitive on British TV as on American, they are slightly less annoying than those break-dancing robots on Fox’s NFL coverage. Advantage: UK.
• One genre that has disappeared from the American airwaves but that appears to thrive in Britain is the celebrity-stacked game show. The US used to have Match Game and Password (which recently suffered through an aborted comeback attempt) and Hollywood Squares and any number of other shows that were ostensibly about answering questions and winning prizes but that really allowed celebrities to pop off “witty” bon mots. How would Nipsey Russell have disseminated his poetry if not for $10,000 Pyramid? These shows have been pushed off the American television map by fake courtroom shows, but they’re alive and well in UK primetime. We saw one quiz show with Stephen Fry grilling Top Gear’s Jeremy Clarkson (I believe it was QI), and there was Some Guy With A Spiky Mullet who showed up on almost all of these game shows. The peak of such production, however, appeared to be Alan Carr’s Celebrity Ding Dong–I am not making this up–a show that is essentially an electronic version of HORSE. A noted British comedian quizzes teams of B-list celebrities until one team gets four answers right, meaning that their corresponding four letters (either D-I-N-G or D-O-N-G, depending on which side of the stage they’re seated on) have all been lit. They then win some unidentifiable reward–pride? The Crown Jewels? It was difficult to tell. Although we are no fans of the fake courtroom shows, the British celebs’ answers didn’t seem to be scripted and, therefore, tended to be rambling and less than funny. So we’re giving the point to US TV, although we note we might have been more charmed had we any idea who the B-list celebrities were.
• The US has imported “talent”-based reality shows straight from their Limey cousins–Pop Idol became American Idol; Britain’s Got Talent became America’s Got Talent; Strictly Come Dancing became Dancing with the Stars; Dancing on Ice became Skating with Celebrities. A proud tradition on both sides of the pond. We saw something “talent” based, although we confess we’re not sure which show it was (we think it was probably X Factor, given Simon Cowell’s presence), but it involved a lot of not-very-impressive singers and even a moment where Cowell apologized for picking a boring song for a competitor. Little wonder, then, when we switched on the TV the next night in the middle of yet another singing competition, this one hosted by So You Think You Can Dance‘s Cat Deeley. Finalists included a post-surgical transsexual who had been outed during the course of the show (to even greater public popularity!) and a group act called 2 Up 2 Down, two married couples in which both wives were in wheelchairs. We began to suspect this one to be a spoof when one of the 2 Up 2 Downers tumbled off a stool in which she’d been propped during a number with Rick Astley, of all people–and, indeed, the show was actually a parody dreamed up by Peter Kay (aka Doctor Who‘s Victor Kennedy/Abzorbaloff) called Britain’s Got the Pop Factor…and Possibly a New Celebrity Jesus Christ Soapstar Superstar Strictly on Ice (it’s even funnier when Deeley recites it with great gravity). But I think it says something about the structure of the bread-and-circuses electric kool-aid nightmare these “talent”-based reality shows have become that for 15 full minutes we believed it was real. (In fairness, this was before we heard the title.) Winner: No one (except Peter Kay and Cat Deeley)–we’re all losers in that landscape.

So do the Brits actually have superior television? We do love us some Who and Cranford, and we’re grateful they lend us The Office, but we’ve got Daisies and sent them Buffy and The West Wing to great acclaim. I guess we’ll have to keep going back to London until this question is decided once and for all.

Nipsey Russell, we miss you.

Ok, I have a few ideas about what I want to name my guitar (see previous post), but my wife doesn’t like my choice. I will therefore ask you people out there to decide. E-mail me or comment here… doesn’t matter to me.

Here are the choices.

1. Axe Of Destiny

2. Van Nailin’

or

3. Nipsey Russell

Let me know.