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I've mentioned in the past that I do like commercials. Part of it may be due to my short attention span. But I like to think part of it also is because I can appreciate the creativity that goes into a 30 or 60 second spot, an entertainment vignette, if you will.
I saw a commercial this morning that had what may be the funniest tagline ever. It was for a home pregnancy test, and the tag was, and I am paraphasing, "The most advanced equipment that you can pee on." I may have to see this commercial again to get the tag exact, but they definately mentioned "pee on." That is pretty darn funny to me.
I also really enjoy the Geico commercials with the cavemen. The Gecko is a good spokesman, but the cavemen really crack me up. I wonder if any other company ever used such a diverse advertising campaign running concurrently? Usually, one ends and another begins, but not with Geico. I can see cavemen, and in the next commercial, a gecko. The newest caveman commercial has them at a party. They discuss why one has gone to Geico and therefore shows no loyalty to his fellow cavemen. Pretty funny. I also like that the cavemen are, for lack of a better term, metrosexuals.
My favorite commercial right now, though, may be the WaMu bank ones. The series uses a "Bankers Pen," a think tank as it were of bankers. They travel, well, in a pen as a group. They may all be in the hospital, or at a pool, or wherever. They are all in the pen, though. The latest has them on top of a building threatening mass suicide unless WaMu eliminates their free checking. A funny concept, and the little commercials are well written.
I'll may be back later.
I have a lot of TV to watch today.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Spring Training Report
While winter continues to freeze pipes in Dowtown New Jersey, my New York Yankees are in sunny Florida preparing to take on the pretenders to the throne that is rightfully theirs.
I just read some news about our knights in pinstripes, and I feel really good about the upcoming season.
Carl Pavano, who has not pitched since June 2005, is finally looking to make his triumphant return to the mound. According to coach Ron Guidry (who I met a few years ago) "He's in real good shape, he's in a real good frame of mind, and that's a plus." Pavano is throwing his slider, and looks to be on the track to finally taking his place in the rotation.
meanwhile, Kei Igawa is experiencing a little bit of culture shock. New York isn't exactly like Japan. But he has a good attitude and is learning English so he can communicate easily with his teammates.
Moose is looking good. He is in the twilight of his career, but he wants to go out with a winning team, and really wants to get his ring this year, along with a 20 win season. He has come close a few times, notching 19 with the Birds twice and 18 with the Bombers twice. With the lineup he has behind him this year, he has a chance, He just has to stay healthy.
But there is some bad news on the front. Bernie is not in camp. And, the team is offering a minor league contract. What the hell is up with that? They spend money like drunken sailors, and here, one of the true gentlemen in the game, a guy who ranks as one of the greatest Yankees of all-time, they are going the cheap route. It makes no sense. The guy is a fan favorite. He needs to end his career where he started, with the Yankees.
For most of his career he has been the number 2 centerfielder in the AL, just a few clicks behind Junior. Bernie may be on the fence as far as the HoF, but he is pretty close.
A .297 lifetime average, nearly 300 homeruns, and 450 doubles to go along with his 4 rings puts Bernie in elite company. It's time for George to step in and pay the man.
I just read some news about our knights in pinstripes, and I feel really good about the upcoming season.
Carl Pavano, who has not pitched since June 2005, is finally looking to make his triumphant return to the mound. According to coach Ron Guidry (who I met a few years ago) "He's in real good shape, he's in a real good frame of mind, and that's a plus." Pavano is throwing his slider, and looks to be on the track to finally taking his place in the rotation.
meanwhile, Kei Igawa is experiencing a little bit of culture shock. New York isn't exactly like Japan. But he has a good attitude and is learning English so he can communicate easily with his teammates.
Moose is looking good. He is in the twilight of his career, but he wants to go out with a winning team, and really wants to get his ring this year, along with a 20 win season. He has come close a few times, notching 19 with the Birds twice and 18 with the Bombers twice. With the lineup he has behind him this year, he has a chance, He just has to stay healthy.
But there is some bad news on the front. Bernie is not in camp. And, the team is offering a minor league contract. What the hell is up with that? They spend money like drunken sailors, and here, one of the true gentlemen in the game, a guy who ranks as one of the greatest Yankees of all-time, they are going the cheap route. It makes no sense. The guy is a fan favorite. He needs to end his career where he started, with the Yankees.
For most of his career he has been the number 2 centerfielder in the AL, just a few clicks behind Junior. Bernie may be on the fence as far as the HoF, but he is pretty close.
A .297 lifetime average, nearly 300 homeruns, and 450 doubles to go along with his 4 rings puts Bernie in elite company. It's time for George to step in and pay the man.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
I'm in a Weird Mood Today
I just can't seem to get focused. My mind is racing like I'm on a mental Autobahn and I'm doing about 175 MPH. And the road is all turns.
Focus, big guy, focus. I don't want to turn this entry into a Larry King-like series of non-sequiters. Ok, who have I talked to lately that gave me tremendous insight?
I exchanged e-mails yesterday with a friend who is a fan of my rambling thoughts and all around superfluous scribblings. She said that a lot of what I have written has mirrored much of her life. Not that she was hospitalized and getting wedgies, but the more serious stuff. This made me really feel good. Not that she personally also had to endure pain and anguish, but that others do. Sometimes it is easy to get lost in my personal "stuff" so much so that I often fail to realize that it is a big world, and many are going through trials and tribulations just as I am. Maybe they don't get the medical wedgies, but they do have other mountains to climb. While some mountains may be physical, and others mental, they can all be just as steep.
If I think that I can't do something, then I can't do it.
Yesterday, I was watching Oprah (my testosterone levels have gone down a bit with age) and her guest said something profound. He said that trying is failure with dignity. If I say I'll try to do something, and fail, it's ok, because I at least tried. And the focus in on the positive in that a failure who didn't try is worse than one who did.
But the results are the same.
So, rather than take the try and fail route, I guess I have to take the try and then try again method. A positive mental outlook usually pisses me off, so this may be more difficult than I thought.
Focus, big guy, focus. I don't want to turn this entry into a Larry King-like series of non-sequiters. Ok, who have I talked to lately that gave me tremendous insight?
I exchanged e-mails yesterday with a friend who is a fan of my rambling thoughts and all around superfluous scribblings. She said that a lot of what I have written has mirrored much of her life. Not that she was hospitalized and getting wedgies, but the more serious stuff. This made me really feel good. Not that she personally also had to endure pain and anguish, but that others do. Sometimes it is easy to get lost in my personal "stuff" so much so that I often fail to realize that it is a big world, and many are going through trials and tribulations just as I am. Maybe they don't get the medical wedgies, but they do have other mountains to climb. While some mountains may be physical, and others mental, they can all be just as steep.
If I think that I can't do something, then I can't do it.
Yesterday, I was watching Oprah (my testosterone levels have gone down a bit with age) and her guest said something profound. He said that trying is failure with dignity. If I say I'll try to do something, and fail, it's ok, because I at least tried. And the focus in on the positive in that a failure who didn't try is worse than one who did.
But the results are the same.
So, rather than take the try and fail route, I guess I have to take the try and then try again method. A positive mental outlook usually pisses me off, so this may be more difficult than I thought.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Peeling Onions Part 3
I've been doing a lot of thinking and talking to friends lately about that bad summer. It all comes down to support. I know that so many of us, particularly men, have it deeply ingrained that we are independent and strong. When I was younger, I was pretty strong physically, and felt that I needed to be so mentally as well. I had never been given support as a child, and never realized it was missing. That make many others strong and independent. It made me weak and afraid of failure. I guess I do usually do the opposite of what I should. One buddy of mine tells me I should use the Costanza method. Remember George from Seinfeld? As soon as he started doing the opposite of what he thought he should do, things went his way.
Whatever I think, just do the opposite. Not such a bad idea, considering how things usually work out for me.
Back to that bad summer. I was getting ready to enter college and I was scared. I had absolutely no reason to fear the academics because I was pretty smart, if I do say so myself. But the fear was put in me by my father. I was warned that I better not fail. I would make him look bad, and that was punishable by, who knows, maybe death, dismemberment, castration? I sure as hell did not want to find out. I chose my career path based upon one high school class elective. I realized that I was going to hate that career. So, I was stuck. I had to either follow through with something that would make me miserable (and be a failure) or to drop out. I chose the path of least resistance. And from that point onward, my life continued to go out of control. I had trouble having healthy relationships with the opposite sex because I was so messed up myself. I really can't get into that aspect of my life today, because it is too overwhelming. Just one part of the onion that ain't getting peeled for a while.
Another friend (bear in mind, anyone who talks to me eventually may wind up in this blog, albeit anonymously) recently told me that she was surprised at the courage I have to put this crap out here. I don't know if it courage or not. I just figure my life is such a train wreck, it can't get any worse. And keeping it bottled up is just making me more mentally sick. So, basically, everyone reading this is providing me therapuetic counseling. I feel like I owe you all something. My thanks is all you'll get, though.
Unless you take Paypal.
Whatever I think, just do the opposite. Not such a bad idea, considering how things usually work out for me.
Back to that bad summer. I was getting ready to enter college and I was scared. I had absolutely no reason to fear the academics because I was pretty smart, if I do say so myself. But the fear was put in me by my father. I was warned that I better not fail. I would make him look bad, and that was punishable by, who knows, maybe death, dismemberment, castration? I sure as hell did not want to find out. I chose my career path based upon one high school class elective. I realized that I was going to hate that career. So, I was stuck. I had to either follow through with something that would make me miserable (and be a failure) or to drop out. I chose the path of least resistance. And from that point onward, my life continued to go out of control. I had trouble having healthy relationships with the opposite sex because I was so messed up myself. I really can't get into that aspect of my life today, because it is too overwhelming. Just one part of the onion that ain't getting peeled for a while.
Another friend (bear in mind, anyone who talks to me eventually may wind up in this blog, albeit anonymously) recently told me that she was surprised at the courage I have to put this crap out here. I don't know if it courage or not. I just figure my life is such a train wreck, it can't get any worse. And keeping it bottled up is just making me more mentally sick. So, basically, everyone reading this is providing me therapuetic counseling. I feel like I owe you all something. My thanks is all you'll get, though.
Unless you take Paypal.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
I just need to write
I'm not sure why, but some days I just need to write. I don't always know what is going to come out. Sometimes I start with an agenda, sometimes not. I may just talk to a friend, or have myself stimulated in some other way (that sounds dirty, but it isn't.) I just like to write.
I rarely go to the movies. I have a very short attention span, and I really have a difficult time focusing for 90-120 minutes. If a movie is really, really interesting to me, I can get through it, but I have fallen asleep in theaters many times. When I watch movies at home, I usually fall asleep, too, but at least it doesn't cost 10 bucks. That's why when I discuss a movie with someone, I either don't know how they ended, or I missed a big part of the plot. If I like a movie, I watch it numerous times, and I eventually do get to see every part.
One exception, of course are really funny comedies. Two from last year, which are actually the only two movies I have seen in a theater in the last few years, were Borat and Clerks 2 (twice.) A good friend of mine loaned me his DVD player and I will return it to him when I can walk well enough. But, in the meantime, I am enjoying watching Clerks and Clerks 2 about once a week each. Is there such a thing as the "Tao of Silent Bob?"
I'm more a sitcom guy. Give me 22 minutes of solid entertainment in a 30 minute block, and I'm one happy dude. I like the commercial breaks. They give me a chance to, I don't know exactly what I do, but I like the little break. And a well crafted commercial, is like a bonus. It is like an extra bit of entertainment, kind of like when you get that toy with your Happy Meal. I even look forward to certain ones. Right now, the Taco Bell lions crack me up. And, of course, the Geico Cave Men are hysterical, even if they have been on a few times too many. One series of commercials that irritate me are the cable ones. Ok, I'm watching cable TV, do I really need a commercial for cable TV while I'm using the product? And worse, I'm paying to watch TV, which means I'm paying to watch a commercial encouraging me to kepp paying to watch the commercial?
By the way, Reno 911, one of my favorite shows, is now a movie. I doubt I'll go to see it, even though it looks really funny. It will probably be on some movie channel in less than a year, so I can wait it out. It takes a lot for me to get my butt out to a movie.
I rarely go to the movies. I have a very short attention span, and I really have a difficult time focusing for 90-120 minutes. If a movie is really, really interesting to me, I can get through it, but I have fallen asleep in theaters many times. When I watch movies at home, I usually fall asleep, too, but at least it doesn't cost 10 bucks. That's why when I discuss a movie with someone, I either don't know how they ended, or I missed a big part of the plot. If I like a movie, I watch it numerous times, and I eventually do get to see every part.
One exception, of course are really funny comedies. Two from last year, which are actually the only two movies I have seen in a theater in the last few years, were Borat and Clerks 2 (twice.) A good friend of mine loaned me his DVD player and I will return it to him when I can walk well enough. But, in the meantime, I am enjoying watching Clerks and Clerks 2 about once a week each. Is there such a thing as the "Tao of Silent Bob?"
I'm more a sitcom guy. Give me 22 minutes of solid entertainment in a 30 minute block, and I'm one happy dude. I like the commercial breaks. They give me a chance to, I don't know exactly what I do, but I like the little break. And a well crafted commercial, is like a bonus. It is like an extra bit of entertainment, kind of like when you get that toy with your Happy Meal. I even look forward to certain ones. Right now, the Taco Bell lions crack me up. And, of course, the Geico Cave Men are hysterical, even if they have been on a few times too many. One series of commercials that irritate me are the cable ones. Ok, I'm watching cable TV, do I really need a commercial for cable TV while I'm using the product? And worse, I'm paying to watch TV, which means I'm paying to watch a commercial encouraging me to kepp paying to watch the commercial?
By the way, Reno 911, one of my favorite shows, is now a movie. I doubt I'll go to see it, even though it looks really funny. It will probably be on some movie channel in less than a year, so I can wait it out. It takes a lot for me to get my butt out to a movie.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Peeling Onions, part 2
When I get depressed, I do one of two things; I either hide out and ignore everything, or I write like a man possessed. Right now, I'm in the writing phase. This is actually good, because that usually gets me out of my funk.
It's funny how I'll see something and that will just inspire me to start writing. I was on my favorite chatboard, and one thread asked "If You Could Change One Thing..." and I thought, Holy Friggin crap!.-- how can I just change one thing? I've made so many wrong turns in my life that one would think that by now, I would be going in the right direction. Even 3 left turns make a right, so how many wrong turns do I have to make?
And what was that one wrong turn I made that first set me on the path to disaster? I don't know why it is important, but I needed to know. I spent some time in therapy, and even more in self-help groups, and I still never determined what the hell happened.
I have joked with friends about "One Bad Summer" as the point that set me on the downslide. It really is true. I was in pretty good shape physically. I wasn't an athlete, but I was far from the doughy lump of flesh that I am today. I could bench a few hundred pounds, and play a decent game of tennis. I had an ok summer job, and looked forward to the future.
And then it happened. That bad summer. I don't even know how or why, but I became totally overwhelmed with everything. For the first time in my life, I was afraid. I had never experienced fear before.
I used to drive my car like a maniac. The speed limit on my street was 25, and I routinely drove 100 MPH on it late at night. I had no fear of an accident.
I worked late at night in neighborhoods where I was taking my life into my hands. Not afraid. I just did it.
I had some jerk stalk me along with his friends with malicious intentions. Nope, didn't bother me. In fact, I actually went after him one day.
So, what was this terrible fear?
I was afraid of failure. I was going into college, and I was afraid that I couldn't cut it. I had nothing to base this on, as I did ok in a very competitive high school, and scored very well on the SAT's. In fact, I had succeeded at nearly everything I ever tried. Apparently, all the crap that had been dumped on me all my life just welled up and poured out as fear.
My father was about the least supportive person I ever could imagine, and yet, I had this inate desire to please him. The one person I should have ignored, I gave so much power to. And here I am, these so many years later, continuing to do so.
I'm not sure how to get out of this, but I do feel energized that now, I can see where I made a wrong turn (followed by dozens of others.) It is said that if a man has knowledge, he has power. I believe that I now have the power to make changes. I just hope that I have the courage and conviction to follow through.
It's funny how I'll see something and that will just inspire me to start writing. I was on my favorite chatboard, and one thread asked "If You Could Change One Thing..." and I thought, Holy Friggin crap!.-- how can I just change one thing? I've made so many wrong turns in my life that one would think that by now, I would be going in the right direction. Even 3 left turns make a right, so how many wrong turns do I have to make?
And what was that one wrong turn I made that first set me on the path to disaster? I don't know why it is important, but I needed to know. I spent some time in therapy, and even more in self-help groups, and I still never determined what the hell happened.
I have joked with friends about "One Bad Summer" as the point that set me on the downslide. It really is true. I was in pretty good shape physically. I wasn't an athlete, but I was far from the doughy lump of flesh that I am today. I could bench a few hundred pounds, and play a decent game of tennis. I had an ok summer job, and looked forward to the future.
And then it happened. That bad summer. I don't even know how or why, but I became totally overwhelmed with everything. For the first time in my life, I was afraid. I had never experienced fear before.
I used to drive my car like a maniac. The speed limit on my street was 25, and I routinely drove 100 MPH on it late at night. I had no fear of an accident.
I worked late at night in neighborhoods where I was taking my life into my hands. Not afraid. I just did it.
I had some jerk stalk me along with his friends with malicious intentions. Nope, didn't bother me. In fact, I actually went after him one day.
So, what was this terrible fear?
I was afraid of failure. I was going into college, and I was afraid that I couldn't cut it. I had nothing to base this on, as I did ok in a very competitive high school, and scored very well on the SAT's. In fact, I had succeeded at nearly everything I ever tried. Apparently, all the crap that had been dumped on me all my life just welled up and poured out as fear.
My father was about the least supportive person I ever could imagine, and yet, I had this inate desire to please him. The one person I should have ignored, I gave so much power to. And here I am, these so many years later, continuing to do so.
I'm not sure how to get out of this, but I do feel energized that now, I can see where I made a wrong turn (followed by dozens of others.) It is said that if a man has knowledge, he has power. I believe that I now have the power to make changes. I just hope that I have the courage and conviction to follow through.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Forgiveness
I have read many times that the reason we often get stuck in life is that we can't forgive those who have hurt us in the past. After all, the one who hurt us either isn't aware, or doesn't care about it, so why give them the power to control us?
This makes sense, and I try to forgive those from my past.
Just today, I started to forgive an ex-boss. It started out like this:
Marie, I forgive you.
But then it quickly became:
Marie, I forgive you even though you are a worthless miserable piece of excrement and I hope that you are dead by now, so that you are deep within the bowels of hell. You made me feel awful on a daily basis and partly because of your evil nature, my life sucks. I hope nothing good ever happens to you or anyone in your family or anyone in your life. May you suffer 10 times what I did for 10 times as long.
I think I need to work on my forgiveness skills a bit more.
This makes sense, and I try to forgive those from my past.
Just today, I started to forgive an ex-boss. It started out like this:
Marie, I forgive you.
But then it quickly became:
Marie, I forgive you even though you are a worthless miserable piece of excrement and I hope that you are dead by now, so that you are deep within the bowels of hell. You made me feel awful on a daily basis and partly because of your evil nature, my life sucks. I hope nothing good ever happens to you or anyone in your family or anyone in your life. May you suffer 10 times what I did for 10 times as long.
I think I need to work on my forgiveness skills a bit more.
Pitchers and catchers, please report to Legends Field
Today my beloved Yankees are preparing to fire the opening salvo in their assault on the National Championship. Pitchers and catchers are due in Legends Field. I sit here in the utter gray-ness of a New Jersey winter, looking out my window at the bleak surroundings. But, I do not despair because even at this very moment, the boys of summer are in Florida making preparations to return the championship trophy back to where it belongs, back to the House That Ruth Built. The absolute Mecca of major league baseball, Yankees Stadium in The South Bronx.
I'm pretty excited about this. Easy to tell, huh?
The Yankees have been the one constant in my life. From the first game I attended back in the days of Mantle and Maris, through the dissapointments of the 60's and early 70's (Michael to Clark to Cater--double play!!) right through to the monster teams of the late 90's led by Jeter and company, I have always looked at spring not as a renewal of the earth, but as a renewal of baseball, as a renewal of life itself.
My best times were spent either watching the Yankees, or talking about the Yankees, or reading about the Yankees, or...this could go on for a while, so I'll just stop here. I belong to the Official Yankees Fan Club, I have stickers and flags on my vehicles, anywhere you turn, there is some Yankees related icon in my home. I'm wearing a Yankees shirt while I type this.
I have a statue of St. Thurman Munson that I look at every day. As soon as I can, I'm packing it and sending it to a friend who is going to give it a good home. I'm just afraid that if something happens to me, the statue will wind up at a yard sale and be sold for a quarter. Kind of sad to think that one of my favorite things will be just penny ante trash to others.
Maybe that's why I have been so melancholy lately. No sports to take my mind off my incredibly dull existence. The stupid Giants had a mediocre season that ended too soon. The Super Bowl is done and gone. Basketball and hockey? Bleeeeh.
But today, pitchers and catchers report.
Today is the beginning. Today is the rebirth.
Today is the first day of 2007.
I'm pretty excited about this. Easy to tell, huh?
The Yankees have been the one constant in my life. From the first game I attended back in the days of Mantle and Maris, through the dissapointments of the 60's and early 70's (Michael to Clark to Cater--double play!!) right through to the monster teams of the late 90's led by Jeter and company, I have always looked at spring not as a renewal of the earth, but as a renewal of baseball, as a renewal of life itself.
My best times were spent either watching the Yankees, or talking about the Yankees, or reading about the Yankees, or...this could go on for a while, so I'll just stop here. I belong to the Official Yankees Fan Club, I have stickers and flags on my vehicles, anywhere you turn, there is some Yankees related icon in my home. I'm wearing a Yankees shirt while I type this.
I have a statue of St. Thurman Munson that I look at every day. As soon as I can, I'm packing it and sending it to a friend who is going to give it a good home. I'm just afraid that if something happens to me, the statue will wind up at a yard sale and be sold for a quarter. Kind of sad to think that one of my favorite things will be just penny ante trash to others.
Maybe that's why I have been so melancholy lately. No sports to take my mind off my incredibly dull existence. The stupid Giants had a mediocre season that ended too soon. The Super Bowl is done and gone. Basketball and hockey? Bleeeeh.
But today, pitchers and catchers report.
Today is the beginning. Today is the rebirth.
Today is the first day of 2007.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Showbiz India or Hurray for Bollywood
Everybody knows how much I love watching TV, but unfortunately, so often it is a vast wasteland. On the weekends, especially during the day, it is nearly impossible to find anything to watch. So, I often look for the really obscure shows, usually in foreign languages. Sabado Gigante is always reliable. I don't speak Spanish well enough to understand everything, but they have enough hot chicks and all around zaniness to keep me interested.
Today, I uncovered an absolute gem, though.
It is on Satuday mornings. Not exactly prime time, but that is what makes it such an undiscovered gem.
After watching it today, I knew I had to review it. Usually I give shows a couple tries before I do so to make sure that it is quality viewing, but this is so good that I would be remiss in my self- appointed duties as pointer outer of TV shows you may have missed. I need a better title. For now, I'll go as "The Channel Sherpa" I guess.
Anyway, the show opens with the theme from the A-Team, along with shots very similar to that classic TV show. Everybody knows the opening is one of my favorite parts of any show. Give me a good opening theme and I'm half-way to TV Nirvana.
Anyway, the program features Bollywood movies and other things Asian Indian. If you have never seen a traditional Bollywood movie, immediately go to Blockbuster and rent a couple. I don't know if they have subtitles or not, but they don't need any. Not that I speak Hindi, but traditional Bollywood movies are visual spectaculars. I think I enjoy them even more because I don't speak the language. The movies almost always seem to start out with a guy noticing a woman. A casual glance across a field, or some such thing. This is usually followed by a song and sensual dance. Then pirates show up, and a huge battle ensues between the star and the pirate leader. Soon after the pirates are dispatched, the viewer will be treated to an extravagent dance number with everybody from the entire movie (including the pirates, sometimes.) I just saw one scene from a movie that had pirates, acrobats, and clowns. Who could ask for more than that in one dance number?
They also highlight many music videos featuring lots of dancing. While a few songs may be in English, many are not. But all are visually stunning. Some may be like MTV (PG-13) but a lot are the old-fashioned type with ornate costumes and graceful movements.
And the one hour episode is just crammed with entertainment value. Today a behind the scenes look at a new Bollywood movie was a focus of a big part of the show. If anyone doesn't understand, or is unaware of the impact of Bollywood, note that a major project co-starring Johnny Depp is in the works. Hugh Grant will also appear in a role with a major
Bollywood star (I missed whether he was in a Bollywood movie, or if the Bollywood star is in a Hollywood flick.)
Commercials are limited, and the long breaks associated with network TV just don't exist.
I love this show, and rate it a very solid 8.8.
It's a new month, so here's a quick review of my ratings system:
10--a prime show. The Sopranos or 24 would rate a 10.
9-- definately worth watching. Think South Park or Seinfeld re-runs. Not as funny as the first time, but still great TV fare.
8-- Pretty darn good stuff. If you can't be home, you'd consider setting up the VCR. Some solid 8's would be Earl, or Everybody Hates Chris.
7-- Not quite good enough to tape. But you can look forward to watching. The Office is the first show that comes to mind as a 7.
6--Now we get into the shows that are ok, but only a first choice if other shows are re-runs.
You won't mind watching a 6 at a different time. Britcoms are 6's.
5-- Think of a movie you liked, but have seen a dozen times or more.You'd choose the movie over the program, then the program is a 5. Mash and almost everything on TVLAND has become a 5.
4--Crappy show, but with some redeeming quality, like it features hot chicks. Any show with Pam Anderson would be a 4.
3--Only worth watching if the only alternative is infommercials. Fishing shows are 3.
2-- About the same as a good infommercial. QVC is a 2.
1-- Infommercials, unless they are The Knife Collector Show. They sell swords!
Today, I uncovered an absolute gem, though.
It is on Satuday mornings. Not exactly prime time, but that is what makes it such an undiscovered gem.
After watching it today, I knew I had to review it. Usually I give shows a couple tries before I do so to make sure that it is quality viewing, but this is so good that I would be remiss in my self- appointed duties as pointer outer of TV shows you may have missed. I need a better title. For now, I'll go as "The Channel Sherpa" I guess.
Anyway, the show opens with the theme from the A-Team, along with shots very similar to that classic TV show. Everybody knows the opening is one of my favorite parts of any show. Give me a good opening theme and I'm half-way to TV Nirvana.
Anyway, the program features Bollywood movies and other things Asian Indian. If you have never seen a traditional Bollywood movie, immediately go to Blockbuster and rent a couple. I don't know if they have subtitles or not, but they don't need any. Not that I speak Hindi, but traditional Bollywood movies are visual spectaculars. I think I enjoy them even more because I don't speak the language. The movies almost always seem to start out with a guy noticing a woman. A casual glance across a field, or some such thing. This is usually followed by a song and sensual dance. Then pirates show up, and a huge battle ensues between the star and the pirate leader. Soon after the pirates are dispatched, the viewer will be treated to an extravagent dance number with everybody from the entire movie (including the pirates, sometimes.) I just saw one scene from a movie that had pirates, acrobats, and clowns. Who could ask for more than that in one dance number?
They also highlight many music videos featuring lots of dancing. While a few songs may be in English, many are not. But all are visually stunning. Some may be like MTV (PG-13) but a lot are the old-fashioned type with ornate costumes and graceful movements.
And the one hour episode is just crammed with entertainment value. Today a behind the scenes look at a new Bollywood movie was a focus of a big part of the show. If anyone doesn't understand, or is unaware of the impact of Bollywood, note that a major project co-starring Johnny Depp is in the works. Hugh Grant will also appear in a role with a major
Bollywood star (I missed whether he was in a Bollywood movie, or if the Bollywood star is in a Hollywood flick.)
Commercials are limited, and the long breaks associated with network TV just don't exist.
I love this show, and rate it a very solid 8.8.
It's a new month, so here's a quick review of my ratings system:
10--a prime show. The Sopranos or 24 would rate a 10.
9-- definately worth watching. Think South Park or Seinfeld re-runs. Not as funny as the first time, but still great TV fare.
8-- Pretty darn good stuff. If you can't be home, you'd consider setting up the VCR. Some solid 8's would be Earl, or Everybody Hates Chris.
7-- Not quite good enough to tape. But you can look forward to watching. The Office is the first show that comes to mind as a 7.
6--Now we get into the shows that are ok, but only a first choice if other shows are re-runs.
You won't mind watching a 6 at a different time. Britcoms are 6's.
5-- Think of a movie you liked, but have seen a dozen times or more.You'd choose the movie over the program, then the program is a 5. Mash and almost everything on TVLAND has become a 5.
4--Crappy show, but with some redeeming quality, like it features hot chicks. Any show with Pam Anderson would be a 4.
3--Only worth watching if the only alternative is infommercials. Fishing shows are 3.
2-- About the same as a good infommercial. QVC is a 2.
1-- Infommercials, unless they are The Knife Collector Show. They sell swords!
Friday, February 09, 2007
On Commercials
I actually like most commercials. Because I have such a short attention span, they give me a welcome break, and they can be entertaining as well.
One commercial, and it is probably not a national one, is for Chase Bank.
It really annoys the crap out of me. "Roxy" gets her paycheck handed to her in her cubicle. The guy handing out the checks notes her unbridled enthusiasm and asks if it is her first one ever.
Of course it is. So far, so good.
A little theme music from Mary Tyler Moore's Show plays in the background as she races through the rest of her night. She buys a dog, buys dinner for all her friends, then pays some bills, and finally goes to the movies.
Okay, how much does this obviously lower level office worker make?
She had to spend a thousand bucks or more in a couple hours. Where do I get a job like this?
One commercial, and it is probably not a national one, is for Chase Bank.
It really annoys the crap out of me. "Roxy" gets her paycheck handed to her in her cubicle. The guy handing out the checks notes her unbridled enthusiasm and asks if it is her first one ever.
Of course it is. So far, so good.
A little theme music from Mary Tyler Moore's Show plays in the background as she races through the rest of her night. She buys a dog, buys dinner for all her friends, then pays some bills, and finally goes to the movies.
Okay, how much does this obviously lower level office worker make?
She had to spend a thousand bucks or more in a couple hours. Where do I get a job like this?
Onions stink, so...
it's time for me to move on. I feel really good today. I went to the doctor and he told me that I am healing much better than he expected. He said it looks like I'm a starfish, like I'm trying to grow a new toe. I doubt that will ever happen, but at least things are looking up.
I've been reading a very inspirational book (Joel Osteen's Your Best Life Now) and it has made me feel a lot better. A good friend suggested that I pick up a copy, and even offered to send me a copy. It was funny that I had a copy sitting here, covered in dust, under the big pile of books that I will get to "someday."
I have thought of going to a shrink, but I had such a bad experience in the past, that I probably won't do it. It wasn't really a bad experience, it was just a waste of time.
I faithfully went for 6 weeks, and at the end, I was declared (because my insurance ran out) mentally well and able to get on with my life. That was over 15 years ago, and since I've been "cured," everything has been just fabulous. I used this word only because I'm trying to get in touch with my more cuddly feminine side.
Okay, I know that my life has just sucked eggs since my "cure," but, for today, I'm trying to fake it until I make it, or in this case fake it and hope for the best.
To get on with my life, I have to get my butt up (metaphorically, as I still can't walk) and start taking the steps to the next stage of my life.
Proof I'm getting better--yesterday, I would have called it my pathetic excuse for a life.
One step at a time.
Maybe in a few weeks, it will be taking steps towards my fabulous, fun-filled future (note the alliteration and the feminine side getting in touch with-it-ness.)
I've been reading a very inspirational book (Joel Osteen's Your Best Life Now) and it has made me feel a lot better. A good friend suggested that I pick up a copy, and even offered to send me a copy. It was funny that I had a copy sitting here, covered in dust, under the big pile of books that I will get to "someday."
I have thought of going to a shrink, but I had such a bad experience in the past, that I probably won't do it. It wasn't really a bad experience, it was just a waste of time.
I faithfully went for 6 weeks, and at the end, I was declared (because my insurance ran out) mentally well and able to get on with my life. That was over 15 years ago, and since I've been "cured," everything has been just fabulous. I used this word only because I'm trying to get in touch with my more cuddly feminine side.
Okay, I know that my life has just sucked eggs since my "cure," but, for today, I'm trying to fake it until I make it, or in this case fake it and hope for the best.
To get on with my life, I have to get my butt up (metaphorically, as I still can't walk) and start taking the steps to the next stage of my life.
Proof I'm getting better--yesterday, I would have called it my pathetic excuse for a life.
One step at a time.
Maybe in a few weeks, it will be taking steps towards my fabulous, fun-filled future (note the alliteration and the feminine side getting in touch with-it-ness.)
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Peeling Onions
(warning: this is a little deep, not my usual goofy insights. It scares me, and I somewhat know what I’m going to write.)
I was speaking to a friend recently, and he reminded me of a scene from Shrek. Shrek and Donkey were talking, and Shrek told him that Ogres were like onions.
Not that they stink, but that they have many layers. Such is a life. I don’t want to examine mine, but from time to time, I suppose it is a good thing to do.
I have major self-esteem issues. Remember that character Al Franken developed on Saturday Night Live, Stewart Smalley? He looked in the mirror and said, “I’m smart, enough, I’m good enough, and gosh darn it, people like me” or something like that.
I look in the mirror and think, “You stupid fat bastard, you’ve really made a mess of things haven’t you. Again. When the hell are you ever going to grow up? When are you going to get it together?” I’m into self-flagellation without the whips and chains. But this mental crap hurts as much. At times, I think getting my ass kicked may be better. At least it has a beginning and an end.
I hate having these bouts of depression, but not enough that I seek therapy, I guess. I don’t want to take any more pills. I already pop dozens per day for various ailments and diseases.
I try to surround myself with positive people, and that helps, but it seems that every so often, I get into one hell of a funk. I never consider suicide, but sure as hell wouldn’t mind if I die.
I don’t even know what brings these on. I can just be sitting there eating my PB&J, and all of a sudden—BANG!!! I’m overcome with emotion about some crap that happened years ago. I have taken every amateur shrink’s advice. I’ve forgiven everyone who ever hurt me, everyone who has even pissed me off. I watch hours of funny stuff on TV. I engage with people with great senses of humor. I still feel that yesterday was bad, today sucks and tomorrow doesn’t look to be my day either.
A good friend just sent me a note, and reminded me to look at the good things.
Maybe I’ll go find that song, “Always look on the Bright Side of Life” and listen to it a few times.
I know I sure can’t solve my problems today, but writing about them helps.
Thanks for listening, even if this crap just disappears in cyberspace. At least it’s not in my head for the time being.
12 step programs have writing and burning.
I have writing and posting.
I was speaking to a friend recently, and he reminded me of a scene from Shrek. Shrek and Donkey were talking, and Shrek told him that Ogres were like onions.
Not that they stink, but that they have many layers. Such is a life. I don’t want to examine mine, but from time to time, I suppose it is a good thing to do.
I have major self-esteem issues. Remember that character Al Franken developed on Saturday Night Live, Stewart Smalley? He looked in the mirror and said, “I’m smart, enough, I’m good enough, and gosh darn it, people like me” or something like that.
I look in the mirror and think, “You stupid fat bastard, you’ve really made a mess of things haven’t you. Again. When the hell are you ever going to grow up? When are you going to get it together?” I’m into self-flagellation without the whips and chains. But this mental crap hurts as much. At times, I think getting my ass kicked may be better. At least it has a beginning and an end.
I hate having these bouts of depression, but not enough that I seek therapy, I guess. I don’t want to take any more pills. I already pop dozens per day for various ailments and diseases.
I try to surround myself with positive people, and that helps, but it seems that every so often, I get into one hell of a funk. I never consider suicide, but sure as hell wouldn’t mind if I die.
I don’t even know what brings these on. I can just be sitting there eating my PB&J, and all of a sudden—BANG!!! I’m overcome with emotion about some crap that happened years ago. I have taken every amateur shrink’s advice. I’ve forgiven everyone who ever hurt me, everyone who has even pissed me off. I watch hours of funny stuff on TV. I engage with people with great senses of humor. I still feel that yesterday was bad, today sucks and tomorrow doesn’t look to be my day either.
A good friend just sent me a note, and reminded me to look at the good things.
Maybe I’ll go find that song, “Always look on the Bright Side of Life” and listen to it a few times.
I know I sure can’t solve my problems today, but writing about them helps.
Thanks for listening, even if this crap just disappears in cyberspace. At least it’s not in my head for the time being.
12 step programs have writing and burning.
I have writing and posting.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
I would love to know...
...what is on my permanent record. All of them. Nearly every time you call the cable company, it is recorded and noted on your record. I'm sure that nearly every business you deal with, has some sort of record that you called, along with the response of the representative.
I'm pretty sure most records have me as an annoying customer. I'm polite, but very persistent when I call. For example, a few years ago I called the cable company. I wanted to know why it took so long to get my service. They told me that the work scheduled for winter had to be delayed because it was cold. I reminded the representative that it is cold every winter in New Jersey, so could he please come up with another reason, along with an estimate as to when the work would be completed. He was not happy, and needed to go speak to his supervosor. Eventually, I wound up speaking to the supervisor.
It seems that nearly every time I call any business, I have to speak to the supervisor.
But what I am really interested in reading would be the record of my last hospital stay.
Not so much for my near legendary battles with the dietary department, but for something much more personal.
Because my foot was operated on, I spent a lot of time in bed. I really could do little else.
One problem when one spends so much time laying in bed is that rashes may develop. So, to prevent this, I use baby wipes (Luv's rocks) after using the urinal. So far, so good. But privacy is an issue. I can't get up to pull the curtain, so I do the best I can.
I can go hours without seeing a nurse or aide. But I can guaranfreakintee that the minute I clean up after "going," a nurse will walk in the room. I go maybe 5 times a day, and at least 4 of those, the nurse will walk in. I can ring the call bell for 20 minutes and won't see anyone. Start using a baby wipe on me, and there is Nurse Hottie at the door, and me looking embarassed as can be. Which I suppose makes it even worse. Here I am fighting disease and promoting good health, and all she sees is some middle aged pervert fondling himself. Since it happens practically every time she walks in the room, what do you think is being written on my permanent record?
I'm pretty sure most records have me as an annoying customer. I'm polite, but very persistent when I call. For example, a few years ago I called the cable company. I wanted to know why it took so long to get my service. They told me that the work scheduled for winter had to be delayed because it was cold. I reminded the representative that it is cold every winter in New Jersey, so could he please come up with another reason, along with an estimate as to when the work would be completed. He was not happy, and needed to go speak to his supervosor. Eventually, I wound up speaking to the supervisor.
It seems that nearly every time I call any business, I have to speak to the supervisor.
But what I am really interested in reading would be the record of my last hospital stay.
Not so much for my near legendary battles with the dietary department, but for something much more personal.
Because my foot was operated on, I spent a lot of time in bed. I really could do little else.
One problem when one spends so much time laying in bed is that rashes may develop. So, to prevent this, I use baby wipes (Luv's rocks) after using the urinal. So far, so good. But privacy is an issue. I can't get up to pull the curtain, so I do the best I can.
I can go hours without seeing a nurse or aide. But I can guaranfreakintee that the minute I clean up after "going," a nurse will walk in the room. I go maybe 5 times a day, and at least 4 of those, the nurse will walk in. I can ring the call bell for 20 minutes and won't see anyone. Start using a baby wipe on me, and there is Nurse Hottie at the door, and me looking embarassed as can be. Which I suppose makes it even worse. Here I am fighting disease and promoting good health, and all she sees is some middle aged pervert fondling himself. Since it happens practically every time she walks in the room, what do you think is being written on my permanent record?
Thursday, February 01, 2007
USPS Rocks
WTH is up with the post office? I mail a check to the hospital which is about 5 miles or so from my mailbox. A week or so later, I get a letter from one of the main district offices (may have been in Atlanta) and it has a picture of my mail on it. They claim my envelope was destroyed and they forwarded the contents to Atlanta (what's that, about 800+ miles away) so they can take a picture of the contents of my envelope, and mail the picture back to me. What if that was destroyed? Would they take a picture of the picture?
It looks like they are holding my mail for ransom. Or that they are taunting me. What's next, my mail shows up on a milk carton? I wonder why they put in the accompanying note that for my protection, they would take a picture of my mail, and send me the picture, while they destroyed my mail. Was my mail dangerous? Was it the WMD's that the UN had been searching for?
Oy!
But they did say that they hoped I would continue to use the Post Office for my postal needs.
As opposed to ...
It looks like they are holding my mail for ransom. Or that they are taunting me. What's next, my mail shows up on a milk carton? I wonder why they put in the accompanying note that for my protection, they would take a picture of my mail, and send me the picture, while they destroyed my mail. Was my mail dangerous? Was it the WMD's that the UN had been searching for?
Oy!
But they did say that they hoped I would continue to use the Post Office for my postal needs.
As opposed to ...
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Rambling thoughts from my Hospital Bed # 3
I was going to call this "My Left Hook" but decided it is now part of my ongoing Hospital Bed series. I wrote this on 1-23-07 and is about an event that happened in 2001.
It's easy to get used to pain in the hospital. Poking, prodding, and getting stuck with all manner of pointy things is just a normal part of one's day. But occasionally hospital staff goes too far. I had a picc line (this is tubing inserted into my vein and then snaked about 2 feet or so through my arteries and then sewn in place) and the doctor came in to remove it as I was being discharged. No big deal, and it takes a minute or two and is completely painless. Unless, of course, the doctor doesn't properly cut the stitches holding the picc line in place.
The institution's doctor, whom I had never seen before, or since, came in to remove the line. She cut two stitches (I had 3) and then started yanking like she had just harpooned a seal. My skin stretched like a cartoon character's and I yelled while she kept pulling. She stopped and I told her about the stitch. She said that she had cut them, and she started yanking again and my skin responded like the main attraction at an old-fashioned county fair taffy pull. The pain was intense, and instinctively, my left hand formed a fist, and I swung at her hard. I missed, but she backed off. NOW she was ready to listen.
It's easy to get used to pain in the hospital. Poking, prodding, and getting stuck with all manner of pointy things is just a normal part of one's day. But occasionally hospital staff goes too far. I had a picc line (this is tubing inserted into my vein and then snaked about 2 feet or so through my arteries and then sewn in place) and the doctor came in to remove it as I was being discharged. No big deal, and it takes a minute or two and is completely painless. Unless, of course, the doctor doesn't properly cut the stitches holding the picc line in place.
The institution's doctor, whom I had never seen before, or since, came in to remove the line. She cut two stitches (I had 3) and then started yanking like she had just harpooned a seal. My skin stretched like a cartoon character's and I yelled while she kept pulling. She stopped and I told her about the stitch. She said that she had cut them, and she started yanking again and my skin responded like the main attraction at an old-fashioned county fair taffy pull. The pain was intense, and instinctively, my left hand formed a fist, and I swung at her hard. I missed, but she backed off. NOW she was ready to listen.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Rambling thoughts from my hospital bed #2
I wrote this in the afternoon on 1-19-07 after Physical Therapy (PT.)
PT is full of triumphs and disappointments. Yesterday I spent a few minutes tapping a balloon back and forth with the Occupational Therapist. It made me wonder exactly what type of job was she preparing me to return to? Did she think I was a combination magician/animal balloon maker at Chucky Cheese? Perhaps she thought I was a Special Olympics caliber volley ball professional or a circus clown. Either way, I don't recall ever having a job (and I've had plenty of bad ones) where a balloon was used regularly. Could she be subconciously suggesting to me that I seek a new career?
I put get a "how to make animal balloons" book on my list of things to do as soon as I get out of here. I should probably get a "how to juggle" book, too. I'll need something to do after I've made everyone a balloon poodle.
I mentioned disappointments, and I've had quite a few. When my overly perky miniature PT suggested that she would get one of her cohorts and we would get in the shower, well, every post puberty fantasy raced through my head. Of course, this mind movie was scored like a 70's porn flick. Bwaaah, bwaah bwaaaah. Ooom pukka puuukkka.
Turns out all they wanted to do was watch me get out of my wheelchair, pivot, and then slide onto the shower bench, and then reverse the procedure.
But hope springs eternal. When she suggested that we get into bed, again, that same 70's soundtrack kicked in. Bwaaah bwaaah bwaaaah. Ooom Pukka Puuukkkka.
We went into a seperate room with a standard issue hospital bed. She drew the curtains. I got into bed just as she asked. I rolled over when she said to. Yeah!! I wondered which of my buddies I was going to call first to tell them the old man still had it!!! Then, in a sultry voice, she huskily whispered, "OK, now give it to me hard, big guy."
Wait, that was from my mental movie. What she actually said was, "Ok, now get your big butt out of bed if it isn't too hard."
Sigh.
PT is full of triumphs and disappointments. Yesterday I spent a few minutes tapping a balloon back and forth with the Occupational Therapist. It made me wonder exactly what type of job was she preparing me to return to? Did she think I was a combination magician/animal balloon maker at Chucky Cheese? Perhaps she thought I was a Special Olympics caliber volley ball professional or a circus clown. Either way, I don't recall ever having a job (and I've had plenty of bad ones) where a balloon was used regularly. Could she be subconciously suggesting to me that I seek a new career?
I put get a "how to make animal balloons" book on my list of things to do as soon as I get out of here. I should probably get a "how to juggle" book, too. I'll need something to do after I've made everyone a balloon poodle.
I mentioned disappointments, and I've had quite a few. When my overly perky miniature PT suggested that she would get one of her cohorts and we would get in the shower, well, every post puberty fantasy raced through my head. Of course, this mind movie was scored like a 70's porn flick. Bwaaah, bwaah bwaaaah. Ooom pukka puuukkka.
Turns out all they wanted to do was watch me get out of my wheelchair, pivot, and then slide onto the shower bench, and then reverse the procedure.
But hope springs eternal. When she suggested that we get into bed, again, that same 70's soundtrack kicked in. Bwaaah bwaaah bwaaaah. Ooom Pukka Puuukkkka.
We went into a seperate room with a standard issue hospital bed. She drew the curtains. I got into bed just as she asked. I rolled over when she said to. Yeah!! I wondered which of my buddies I was going to call first to tell them the old man still had it!!! Then, in a sultry voice, she huskily whispered, "OK, now give it to me hard, big guy."
Wait, that was from my mental movie. What she actually said was, "Ok, now get your big butt out of bed if it isn't too hard."
Sigh.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Rambling thoughts from my hospital bed #1
I'd like to post a few things I wrote while I was recently hospitalized for most of January. I wrote this in my diary January 19, 2007. I think it's too good to keep to myself.
Physical Therapy is more than facing challenges. It is learning to walk, or eat, or any of a myriad of activities of daily living all under the tutelage of a trained, highly skilled physical or occupational therapist (both interchangeable referred to as PT's hereafter.) From my personal experience, a PT is a young woman who is, shall I say for lack of a better term, petite? How would you describe someone smaller than petite?
My current PT's are attractive Asian women, none taller than 5 foot nothing and who would, after a lumber-jacked sized meal and a soaking rain, barely tip the scales at 98 lbs. This inherent cuteness is a great benefit to their job. Therapy hurts a lot, yet it is impossible to lash out at someone so adorable. Who could be so mean as to swat a pixie?
But PT's have learned to compensate for their tiny physique. I may tower over them, and weigh more than a squadron of PT's, but they use a method so insidious, yet clever, that one must tip one's cap for their resourcefulness. A team of 2 or more PT's help me to get up and walk. One puts her hand on my shoulder or arm, while the other gives me a wedgie. That time-tested favorite of grammar school bullies everywhere has now become a medical practice. I'm not exactly sure how pulling my shorts way up into my butt helps me to walk--who am I to argue with medical science--it must be admitted that it works. I put one foot in front of the other and hobble my way to recovery.
Physical Therapy is more than facing challenges. It is learning to walk, or eat, or any of a myriad of activities of daily living all under the tutelage of a trained, highly skilled physical or occupational therapist (both interchangeable referred to as PT's hereafter.) From my personal experience, a PT is a young woman who is, shall I say for lack of a better term, petite? How would you describe someone smaller than petite?
My current PT's are attractive Asian women, none taller than 5 foot nothing and who would, after a lumber-jacked sized meal and a soaking rain, barely tip the scales at 98 lbs. This inherent cuteness is a great benefit to their job. Therapy hurts a lot, yet it is impossible to lash out at someone so adorable. Who could be so mean as to swat a pixie?
But PT's have learned to compensate for their tiny physique. I may tower over them, and weigh more than a squadron of PT's, but they use a method so insidious, yet clever, that one must tip one's cap for their resourcefulness. A team of 2 or more PT's help me to get up and walk. One puts her hand on my shoulder or arm, while the other gives me a wedgie. That time-tested favorite of grammar school bullies everywhere has now become a medical practice. I'm not exactly sure how pulling my shorts way up into my butt helps me to walk--who am I to argue with medical science--it must be admitted that it works. I put one foot in front of the other and hobble my way to recovery.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
I've been sick
I've been sick lately, so I haven't been able to blog.
I really feel like writing, but after 10 minutes of sitting here, I start to feel like crap.
So this is going to be short.
What is wrong with the Giants?
They play brilliantly, then they play like crap. This up and down aggravates me as I get my hopes built up, and then they crash down. I like to believe in next year, but with Tiki leaving, and Strahan requiring surgery, it sure doesn't look good.
At least I can spell J-E-T-S.
I really feel like writing, but after 10 minutes of sitting here, I start to feel like crap.
So this is going to be short.
What is wrong with the Giants?
They play brilliantly, then they play like crap. This up and down aggravates me as I get my hopes built up, and then they crash down. I like to believe in next year, but with Tiki leaving, and Strahan requiring surgery, it sure doesn't look good.
At least I can spell J-E-T-S.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
I just feel like bloggin today
Nothing in particular. No shows to review. I just feel like writing and ranting. Actually, it may be more whimpering.
The big Holiday time is upon us. I see everyone rushing out to buy crap, and it got me thinking back to Christmas's when I was a kid.
I grew up in what was basically a middle class neighborhood. One neighbor was a cop, another owned a small business, while another still worked in a factory. It was not quite a big city, but not suburbia either.
I remember all the kids had their fair share of toys and stuff. Some kids, of course, had what seemed like everything. But that was not the norm.
Today, it seems, kids have everything. I was thinking about some of the kids I know, both personally, and through my job. These kids have PS 1, 2 and are expecting (and will get) 3. They have Nintendo, and whatever gamimg systems I left out. Not only do they have every kind of toy and amusement, but each has duplicity of them. No, not a spare unit, but a seperate gaming system because, well, just because.
I grew up collecting baseball cards. I would save up money from my paper route, or from returning bottles, or whatever way little kids got money back in the day. I would go and buy 3 nickel packs at a time, because sales tax at that time didn't start until the sale hit .15. Today, if a kid wanted to engage in something as simple as collecting baseball cards, he or she would just go and buy a box, or a complete set.
It makes me wonder. Was the joy in the baseball cards, or in the act of collecting them? If I traded Mickey Mantle for Willie Mays (what am I saying, I'd never trade Mantle for Mays) ok, Jim Fergosi for Nolan Ryan, that was a part of childhood. Kids today almost never would trade, or at least not without consulting a guide. Flipping cards was also an act of gambling and bravado. Today, that would never happen.
We used to play with Hot Wheels cars. I guess kids today do also, but when I go to Wally World, or Target, I usually find adults searching for special cars like Treasure Hunts.
So here's my thoughts: did adults drive kids out of these toys, or did other toys just replace them? Given a choice between using imagination and a hot Wheels car, or a PS 3 version of a racing game, which would it be? Last week, I was at a train show, and someone had a race set hooked up. The old fashioned 1/32 scale race cars. The kids were lined up to have a chance. Would they have done the same for a video? I don't know.
I'm turning into a poor man's versionof Andy Rooney, here.
I'm done writing for now.
I'm going to tell everyone that I'm not buying any more crap for Christmas. I'm just going to give them a few dollars and donate money to help others.
The big Holiday time is upon us. I see everyone rushing out to buy crap, and it got me thinking back to Christmas's when I was a kid.
I grew up in what was basically a middle class neighborhood. One neighbor was a cop, another owned a small business, while another still worked in a factory. It was not quite a big city, but not suburbia either.
I remember all the kids had their fair share of toys and stuff. Some kids, of course, had what seemed like everything. But that was not the norm.
Today, it seems, kids have everything. I was thinking about some of the kids I know, both personally, and through my job. These kids have PS 1, 2 and are expecting (and will get) 3. They have Nintendo, and whatever gamimg systems I left out. Not only do they have every kind of toy and amusement, but each has duplicity of them. No, not a spare unit, but a seperate gaming system because, well, just because.
I grew up collecting baseball cards. I would save up money from my paper route, or from returning bottles, or whatever way little kids got money back in the day. I would go and buy 3 nickel packs at a time, because sales tax at that time didn't start until the sale hit .15. Today, if a kid wanted to engage in something as simple as collecting baseball cards, he or she would just go and buy a box, or a complete set.
It makes me wonder. Was the joy in the baseball cards, or in the act of collecting them? If I traded Mickey Mantle for Willie Mays (what am I saying, I'd never trade Mantle for Mays) ok, Jim Fergosi for Nolan Ryan, that was a part of childhood. Kids today almost never would trade, or at least not without consulting a guide. Flipping cards was also an act of gambling and bravado. Today, that would never happen.
We used to play with Hot Wheels cars. I guess kids today do also, but when I go to Wally World, or Target, I usually find adults searching for special cars like Treasure Hunts.
So here's my thoughts: did adults drive kids out of these toys, or did other toys just replace them? Given a choice between using imagination and a hot Wheels car, or a PS 3 version of a racing game, which would it be? Last week, I was at a train show, and someone had a race set hooked up. The old fashioned 1/32 scale race cars. The kids were lined up to have a chance. Would they have done the same for a video? I don't know.
I'm turning into a poor man's versionof Andy Rooney, here.
I'm done writing for now.
I'm going to tell everyone that I'm not buying any more crap for Christmas. I'm just going to give them a few dollars and donate money to help others.
Friday, December 01, 2006
My Guys
TBS is getting into new shows, ala FX and so many other cable networks. The newest show, My Guys, is on Tuesday nights and co-start Jim Gaffigan (the "Hot Pockets"guy) along with some others whose names I don't remember. That's not a big deal really, because I don't remember too many actor's names anyway. The star is some pretty cute blonde chick who is what could be called a tomboy, I guess. Her best female friend is a really cute girly -girl black chick. So far, so good. Her problem is that she has lots of male buddies, so it is difficult for her to have a relationship with a man. They all get so jealous of her relationship with all the other men in her life. OK, the premise is kind of hackneyed. But the supporting cast is pretty good. The star is cute.
I want this show to be good. I really, really want to like this show. I like Jim Gaffigan. I like cute blondes and cute black chicks. But the show is so poorly written that I did not get one good laugh out of the two episodes I watched. The Jim Gaffigan character is great, but he is a bit player at best. The one thing missing is the wacky character. There is no Kramer, no Arthur (from the King of Queens) no brother Robert, or any of the various wacky neighbors, relatives, or friends that seemed to make all the other sitcoms throughout the years work so well. I was kind of hoping it would be Jim Gaffigan, but his character is a laid back, extremely hen-pecked guy. Not quite enough for the laughs a good sitcom needs. I may give the show another chance or two, but that's only because I like the characters so much.
I am going to give this show a provisional rating of 4.5. If I watch a few more episodes and if gets somne tighter writing, and a wacky character or two, the show has 6 or 7 potential.
It's a new month, so here's a quick review of my ratings system:
10--a prime show. The Sopranos or 24 would rate a 10.
9-- definately worth watching. Think South Park or Seinfeld re-runs. Not as funny as the first time, but still great TV fare.
8-- Pretty darn good stuff. If you can't be home, you'd consider setting up the VCR. Some solid 8's would be Earl, or Everybody Hates Chris.
7-- Not quite good enough to tape. But you can look forward to watching. The Office is the first show that comes to mind as a 7.6--
Now we get into the shows that are ok, but only a first choice if other shows are re-runs.
6--You won't mind watching a 6 at a different time. Britcoms are 6's.
5-- Think of a movie you liked, but have seen a dozen times or more.
You'd choose the movie over the program, then the program is a 5. Mash and almost everything on TVLAND has become a 5.4--
4--Crappy show, but with some redeeming quality, like it features hot chicks.
Any show with Pam Anderson would be a 4.
3--Only worth watching if the only alternative is infommercials. Fishing shows are 3.2-- About the same as a good infommercial.
2--QVC is a 2.
1-- Infommercials, unless they are The Knife Collector Show. They sell swords!
I want this show to be good. I really, really want to like this show. I like Jim Gaffigan. I like cute blondes and cute black chicks. But the show is so poorly written that I did not get one good laugh out of the two episodes I watched. The Jim Gaffigan character is great, but he is a bit player at best. The one thing missing is the wacky character. There is no Kramer, no Arthur (from the King of Queens) no brother Robert, or any of the various wacky neighbors, relatives, or friends that seemed to make all the other sitcoms throughout the years work so well. I was kind of hoping it would be Jim Gaffigan, but his character is a laid back, extremely hen-pecked guy. Not quite enough for the laughs a good sitcom needs. I may give the show another chance or two, but that's only because I like the characters so much.
I am going to give this show a provisional rating of 4.5. If I watch a few more episodes and if gets somne tighter writing, and a wacky character or two, the show has 6 or 7 potential.
It's a new month, so here's a quick review of my ratings system:
10--a prime show. The Sopranos or 24 would rate a 10.
9-- definately worth watching. Think South Park or Seinfeld re-runs. Not as funny as the first time, but still great TV fare.
8-- Pretty darn good stuff. If you can't be home, you'd consider setting up the VCR. Some solid 8's would be Earl, or Everybody Hates Chris.
7-- Not quite good enough to tape. But you can look forward to watching. The Office is the first show that comes to mind as a 7.6--
Now we get into the shows that are ok, but only a first choice if other shows are re-runs.
6--You won't mind watching a 6 at a different time. Britcoms are 6's.
5-- Think of a movie you liked, but have seen a dozen times or more.
You'd choose the movie over the program, then the program is a 5. Mash and almost everything on TVLAND has become a 5.4--
4--Crappy show, but with some redeeming quality, like it features hot chicks.
Any show with Pam Anderson would be a 4.
3--Only worth watching if the only alternative is infommercials. Fishing shows are 3.2-- About the same as a good infommercial.
2--QVC is a 2.
1-- Infommercials, unless they are The Knife Collector Show. They sell swords!
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