TalentedButHumble

Fridays with Frank

2011-06-24T19:23:00.002-04:00

Just the Way You Look Tonight.
"Someday when I'm awfully low,
And the world is cold,
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight."

Jerome Kern. Music.
Dorothy Fields. Lyrics.
Nelson Riddle. Arrangement.
Me. Goosebumps.

The Best is Yet to Come
by Cy Coleman and Carolyn Leigh

"You think you've flown before
But you ain't left the ground."

You can hear the smirk in his voice, can't you?

Fly Me to the Moon
by Bart Howard

"Fill my heart with song, let me sing forever more,
You are all I long for, all I worship and adore."

That instrumental break makes me feel like I am flying to the moon. Or at least the International Space Station.

Orville to Orbit: I Want America to Keep Doing Big Stuff

2011-06-24T18:45:00.005-04:00

From the the fall of the Twin Towers to the end of the space shuttle. Quite the decade. Quite the symbols. Powerful symbols falling suddenly and fading away slowly. Symbols of America now seeming to become smaller, poorer - turning inward instead of upward and outward.

Twin Towers and the space shuttle. They seem like companion pieces now. Both often reviled in their time as clumsy, ugly. Yet, when they're gone, then, in the rearview mirror, we see how beautiful they were.

And what is left with the end of the space shuttle era, the long wait to an uncertain future for NASA? Now, as the only country in the world to have walked on the moon humbly hitches a ride on old-fashioned Russian rockets.

Where now do we find vision and inspiration? What kind of country are we at this shaky moment in time? Are we turning on each other, instead of uniting to pull each other up?

Or do we merely turn away from each other, and from anything worthwhile? To mindless entertainment, the unreality of reality shows a poor substitute for the joy of truly stirring achievements?

My grandpa was born before the Wright Brothers took their first flight. He lived to see men walk on the moon and fly a big spaceplane called the shuttle.

I'm old enough to remember "One giant leap for mankind." I want to live long enough to see people walk on Mars.

Yes, me. The one with aerophobia. I myself may be afraid to fly. But all the more reason for a poor gravity-bound S.O.B. to watch someone else spreading their proverbial wings. Because perhaps that in turn motivates me, pushes a lot of us to dare something in our own small way.

We need someone to make us take giant leaps again.

Gather Ye Beatles Concerts While Ye May

2011-04-02T01:06:00.000-04:00

Been listening to a bit of those Brit boys lately. (Confession: I didn't appreciate them as much back in the day. In my defense, I was a wee bit young at the start of their brief, insane reign.)

For instance, here'sThe Rooftop Concert. It's actually a bit ragged at spots, especially in the second "Get Back." But that's picking of nits.

Did you check out the bemused and enthused bystanders? Notice how some of them merely glance up and then move on?

Oh London people of 1969, STOP! Jagged as the sound may be, cold as the day was from what I can see, still, this is the last time the bleeping Beatles performed together. And in a decade John will be gunned down an ocean away. Oh London people of 1969, maybe some of you will be gone even before he is. So tarry in that glorious moment.

Anyway, back to the young lads. Most of all, I've been listening to this: And in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make.

Sometimes I hate getting older. But it's kind of good to be old enough to remember when humans walked on the moon and made music like this.

In Which My Lazy Ass Creates a Blog Post Out of Tweets

2011-03-12T15:49:00.003-05:00

I was in high school back in the Mesozoic Era - when you had to TYPE your papers and use WHITEOUT or re-do the whole page to correct mistakes.

One day my AP English teacher, Mrs. Timm, praised me with words along the lines of “You’re the best ‘tight’ writer I’ve ever had in a class.”

I don’t think she meant I was at my peak while drunk. Rather, I expressed my thoughts well in a concise manner.

Oh, Mrs. T., my papers were just short ‘cos I wrote them late the night before. But it turns out I also was prepping myself for My Future Career in writing - songs, scripts, brief features on deadline.

And too, it helped me ready for the even farther-in-the-future hobby of goofing around on the Internet thingy, where brevity is the soul of tweets.

So without further ado - or a transition 'graph - herewith are some of my 2011 140-character strokes of genius (twitter.com/amyjp3):

* You better watch out, better not cry, better not pout, I'm telling you why: The Google car might be taking your picture.

* Shortest note I've ever written to myself re: a possible script topic: "MARS." (Plz don't tell me anyone else already wrote a story on that.)

* Great news re: Gabrielle Giffords' speech, walking, memory, personality, no impulsivity issues. IOW she's better than 1/2 of Congress already.

* "Spacewalk choreographer" sounds like the world's coolest job. [Just heard the term used on NASA TV.]

* More and more lately I find myself hearing a name and can't remember if that's someone I work with or the latest hot thing on a WB show.

* MY attractive politician is a charismatic, telegenic, visionary leader. Yours is a Barbie/Ken bubblehead.

* MI guv dumps EITC. Sez poor losing only .20 for every $1 they still get from Feds. IOW "Let them eat 20% less cake."

* I watched classical music on PBS tonite. Forgot about Grammys. But that's OK- a violist on Live from Lincoln Ctr. entered in an egg.

* The feel-good word of the day is "toast." (Posted 5:21 PM Feb 9th)

* Comment on YouTube vid of 2001:A Space Odyssey theme - "I want to make it so this piece plays every time my garage door opens."

* I don't watch the show regularly but it seems like Dexter's coworkers must be the worst cops in the world.

* (After the 2011 “Civility” State of the Union) Re:"Who sat where" - I think I saw the Levins side by side. Couldn't get a date with an (R) so they had to sit with their brother.

* Can't Jack & Liz stay married? They don't have to have the sex or anything.

* Foursquare - another thing that makes me feel 173 years old. (She tweeted, just to prove that she wasn't a total Old.)

My Fair Lady: Happy Double-Nickel Anniversary

2011-03-10T00:18:00.000-05:00

If I had a time machine with a limited number of journeys allotted me, I’d be sorely tempted to spend one of them visiting the New York City of March 15, 1956. Premiere night of Lerner and Loewe’s “My Fair Lady.”

Why that moment in theatre history? Because "My Fair Lady" is simply the perfect musical. (This is not open for discussion.)

Wonderfully adapted book from the Shaw play. Fantastic score. L & L made it all seem so easy. The same material that had defeated the likes of Rodgers and Hammerstein in trying to adapt it.

Fussy, sexy Rex Harrison. Julie Andrews, at the time still younger than most college graduates but bearing a voice from heaven.

Well, hell, I’m just gonna let the score make my argument.

In 'artfor, 'ereford and 'ampton, 'urricanes 'ardly hever 'appen. The Rain in Spain (Film version)

Wouldn't It Be Loverly (TV broadcast of OBC)

Freddie, an insipid, two-dimensional character who gets to sing the gorgeous On the Street Where You Live. (Film version)

I only know when he began to dance with me I Could Have Danced All Night. (Julie Andrews)

Oh, and Audrey was a lovely person. But still, Julie wuzrobbed.

Happy Valentine's Day from Ella, Etta, Fred & Frank

2011-02-13T00:57:00.001-05:00

I'm dipping back into the old Great American Songbook again.

Note how many of the comments accompanying the YouTube videos are by 19 year-olds who say, "They don't write them like that anymore."

You'll see that sentiment in regards to the great 60s songs of Motown and the Beatles too.

Good taste, Youth.

I never thought of Ella Fitzgerald as particularly sexy until I heard her sing All The Things You Are. (Music - Jerome Kern, Lyrics - Oscar Hammerstein.)

Meanwhile Etta's gonna love you Come Rain or Come Shine. (Music - Harold Arlen, Lyrics - Johnny Mercer.)

Fred sings to Ginger and Frank sings to everyone:

"Someday when I'm awfully old,
And the world is cold,
I will get a glow just thinking of you,
and the way you look tonight."
(Kern-Dorothy Fields)

Dorothy Fields said of that last song: "The first time Jerry played that melody for me I went out and started to cry. The release absolutely killed me. I couldn't stop, it was so beautiful."

Le sigh.

If you're with someone, enjoy it for Valentine's day. If you're not, enjoy it 'cos it's damn great music. And we'll always have YouTube.

I Need a Hero or a Hug or a Good Song or Four

2011-01-25T16:49:00.000-05:00

Long time no post. Feeling like I should write something big and profound and worthy of the the electricity and pixels and bits & bytes.

But instead I had a cold. Was writing articles. Doing the day gig. Creative writing & workshopping.

And all of it overshadowed by the what happened in Tucson. Me obsessively following it and trying to decide if I wanted to say something, something about the many things that it brings up, here.

Maybe later.

Instead, I've been turning to old classic songs for comfort. Well, maybe not all classics, but somehow fitting and/or lifting my mood.

This one seems appropriate. I Need a Hero Let's dedicate it to Daniel Hernandez. Twenty-freaking-years old. Daniel Hernandez who, five days into his college internship, was called upon to be extraordinary and did not disappoint.

Daniel Hernandez who is not allowed to marry whom he would like to in most U.S. states, and who could be stopped for no reason in Arizona because he's Hispanic. But who still gives me hope for this country.

And jumping to Broadway, from a few years earlier than Bonnie Tyler's song, I found myself listening to a musical plea that means ever more to me as the years go by. Give me a chance to come through ... Cassie of "A Chorus Line," begging just for a chance to do what she knows she can do. And even in this old, blurry B & W video something extraordinary shines through, the talents of of Michigan's own Donna McKechnie.

Maybe there is a theme here. Because another song I've been drawn to is about Michael Jackson's man in the mirror, who wants to be special too. Wants to show he can give something back.

And with all this YouTube surfing, the old tunesy website brought me back to this video. I can't believe I've never written about it here. Ms. Patti LaBelle, baby, one of the great modern R & B-ers.

Lady Marmalade Live With Audience

But how in the world does this, the raunchy Lady Marmalade, fit with the people in the songs above, the ones longing for a hero, or begging to be given another chance, or admonishing themselves to be a standup guy?

Well hell, it's pretty great to see these four regular dudes holding their own against one of the pop world's great divas. That's something special.

Plus, it makes me smile.

And I needed that.

Ode to YouTube - and a Woman Named Valaida

2010-12-31T12:40:00.002-05:00

I recall life pre-Net. I lived a goodly portion of my life without instant access to the wit and wisdom of Ashton Kutcher, or knowing how much blow (and blowing) Paris Hilton did last night.

For decades my life was rows and rows of stacks and stacks of books. Typewriters and whiteout correction tape. Waiting for the print edition of the Sunday New York Times to arrive in my small town at midweek.

33 and 1/3 vinyl.

That was my access to the world as a child and young adult.

What's Dial-up, Daddy?
Hell, it changes so fast. Even the sound of a modem (ssssshhhhh, wack-wack, doodle-doodle, eeehhhhhhhh) is ancient history to a mid-teen. Soon, discussing what a Blog is, or how you sometimes read it on a machine at a desk, will be lost to the text-only gen.

It's changing every second. A cousin to my first computer, an iMac, is at The Henry Ford Museum already. Down the road - in about 18 months - your i-This and your Bluetooth that, your Flip-corder and your 3D TV will seem so ancient. People will laugh at images of us *TYPING*. With our FINGERS!!!

The commercials made these 50-pound bastards seem like so much fun.

And yet, though I remember my life BC (before computers) I still can't believe some of the wonders I missed. Maybe it's because I remember that I still occassionally feel the magic of it.

Golly, How They Do That?
"Letters" that are transmitted more quickly than I can type one individual letter of the alphabet.

Becoming good friends with someone you've never met. Online friends versus those old-fashioned RL friends.

Bing Maps and Google Earth.

And You-freaking-Tube. Where was that all my life?

As a writer and musician, I know all too well the downside: That we can get so much for free that we once might've paid for. And yet, I can't help soaking up so much of it myself, rolling around in it like my dog used to roll around in a good pile of wet sod.

So I end 2010 with a couple more of my YouTube discoveries.

This smoking, mysterious voice calling to us from 80 years past. Valaida Snow* performing Ellington's Caravan. And"I Can't Give You Anything But Love" And St. Louis Blues.

And wow, what a fascinating, tragic life - A black female trumpet player and singer from the Jim Crow South, accused of bigamy when she married a handsome teenaged dancer 10 yrs. her junior.

An ex-pat in the late 30s. Legends of her being driven around Paris in her orchid-colored Mercedes.

A controversial missing period of her life: Was she confined to a Danish prison for drug use or actually thrown into a Nazi concentration camp?

Whatever the answer to that, it's said she returned to the U.S. broken, and had an early death around age 50, in the mid-fifties.

This woman who recorded 78s would've never imagined the technology that would bring her voice and story to us. And what a story.

[Bio info from Encyclopedia of the Harmlem Renaissance]

Passive-Aggressive Alvin & Other Christmas Songs

2010-12-06T17:21:00.001-05:00

Did you ever notice how many characters in Christmas songs seem deeply troubled? Require some type of professional help?

Rudolph needs rhinoplasty.

Alvin and his perpetual, petulant tardiness issues should be addressed by his guidance counselor.

And after mama has a fling with Santa Claus she could use a session with Dr. Phil, Dr. Laura or maybe even a legitimate therapist. She could get a two-for-one deal with that oversexed lady from “Santa, Baby.”

Then there’s the idiot on the radio telling me it’s the most wonderful time of the year. He obviously doesn’t have my long commute through the snow. I need a one-horse covered-up sleigh.

But the kings of trippiness are Felix Bernard and Richard B. Smith, who conspired by a fire back in the 30’s to write “Winter Wonderland.”

Gone away is the bluebird,
Here to stay is a new bird

‘kaaaaay. Dunno what that means, but we’ll let it slip.

In the meadow we can build a snowman,
Then pretend that he is Parson Brown
He'll say: Are you married?
We'll say: No man,
But you can do the job
When you're in town.

Now what the hell is that all about? When I was a kid I used to think they were singing Farmer Brown, not Parson Brown. But either way this makes no sense. When is Parson Brown going to be in town? And what does that old bastard care if they’re married or not? Oh wait, it’s not really him. It’s a snowman.

Far out, man.

And we haven’t even gotten to Grandma’s lawsuit against the reckless reindeer or the kind of migraine I’d get from twelve drummers drumming and eleven pipers piping while six geese pooped all over the Christmas tree.

Which Christmas characters do you think need an intervention?

Annie Lennox makes "Winter Wonderland" almost tolerable

"Down-and-out Detroiters Dance"

2010-11-29T19:51:00.001-05:00

You're stressed from the weekend. Stressed from going back to work. Or not having any work to go back to.

That can only mean one thing.

Time for a cha-cha break, baby. Because Hey, Daddy, it's just like what Steve Martin used to say about playing the banjo. You can't be sad listening/ dancing to cha-cha.

Not to mention some people find it a little sexy.

And it's that sass, that sex that drives my people in "International Latin," the play-turned TV show. They may be unemployed, hopelessly in love, running from their past, wanting a baby or dealing with daddy issues - but they let it all out on that dance floor:

INTERNATIONAL LATIN
excerpt from the television pilot
copr. 2010 Amy J. Parrent

TEASER
FROM BLACK:

The irresistible driving force of HOT LATIN POP MUSIC: BONGOS and CONGAS and TIMBALES, saucy tenor TRUMPETS, a clinking syncopated PIANO running wild up and down.

Glimpses of gyrating HIPS. Trim TUMMIES and tight BUTTS. A FLASH OF SHOULDERS, a SWIRL OF HAIR.

FOREPLAY ON THE DANCE FLOOR.

INT. A SMALL HOTEL BALLROOM, DETROIT - NIGHT
A BRIGHTLY LIGHTED DANCE SPACE. Surrounded by hazy dimness.

As if the sideline is just a dream and the golden dance floor the only reality.

And in that hot-white light SEVERAL PAIRS OF DANCERS peacock with all they’ve got. Strutting. Pulsating. Posing.

While JUDGES on the fringes eye them intently -- Like bow-tied and evening-gowned lions looking for the weakest gazelles to fell.

A SMALL AUDIENCE ON THE SIDELINES, alert to the ballroom bacchanalia before them.

AND THREE COMPETING COUPLES STAND OUT:

MICHAEL POWERS and LALANA CHASE PATEL. HIM: 18, your average suburban white boy dancing ballroom. HER: A divalicious 20-year-old, half South Asian-/half African-American.

FRANK TITAN and KAROLE MARKER. FRANK: Around 30. One big tight top and snug pair of pants, showing off a still-fit jock bod.

KAROLE: Early 30s. Less pizazz than the others. Dress a Saturday Night Fever reject. But works what she has. Perhaps a vague resemblance hints that they’re cousins.

SASHA SARKOV and NATALIA DUBANSKAYA (aka NATALIE HUNTER). Sparkliest of all, top of the game. Pelvises like Slinky toys.

NATALIE an elegant mid-30s. Legs up to here match a dress slit down to there. SASHA’S shirt opens even closer to the earth’s core. He’s slim, hanging on to late 20s, moody Slavic good looks.

They’ll speak with RUSSIAN INFLECTION, though her accent fluctuates.

Each couple winds their way around the floor. Marking their territory.

Frank, alpha-male-gone-wild, guides Karole too close for comfort to the Russians.

Sasha won’t back down. Two objects fighting to occupy the same space at the same time.

It’s Natalie who saves the day from a sequin-and-satin disaster. She whirls, and with a quick, sparkly flaunt, parades away, Sasha stalking after her.

In the front row ARNIE TYLER, a slim 70-year-old black man, smiles, whispers to his young seatmates, CAITLIN LAKE and BEN RYAN. The boy’s in tiny tails, the girl Ginger Rogers, Jr.

THE SONG ENDS. The dancers move to sidelines. Judges confer.

Photo: Slavik Kryklyvyy & Karina Smirnoff

Live from 30 Rock It's 30 Rock Live

2010-10-14T22:27:00.005-04:00

The 30 Rock Live episode was like finding two bosses or two teachers making out in a back room: Not what I’d expect and didn’t feel quite right.

Compare it to “Live from Lincoln Center,“ for instance. Something originally written for live performance - a stage production like “South Pacific” (which aired on PBS in August) - actually works better on live TV than a TV show that’s usually written/directed/performed/edited in a filmic format.

The look, the timing, everything seemed just that little bit askew tonight.

For instance, a couple lines that should’ve gotten bigger laughs got lost in the shuffle.

And a number of people on other blogs mentioned how much fun the cast seemed to be having. I thought almost all the regulars except Broadway vet Jane Krakowski looked nervous as hell at the start.

Cameraman must've been nervous too. Shaky handheld camera? Might want to rethink that. Oops, too late. It was live.

And did the show actually run short? Seemed they were stalling at the end.

Not to be all Debbie Downer -- here were a few of the fun, funny moments:

Well, yes, nice that Dratch was back and she and Tina fell into their old Second City/SNL/first-year 30R rhythm easily.

Jack sniffing Jenna’s alcohol breath was hilariously bizarre enough that I want to make it my Facebook picture.

Didn’t see the Julia Louis-Dreyfus stuff coming. Man, do all the successful SNLers eventually come back to the fold? (Except Jane Curtin.) Oh wait. This wasn't SNL.

(But speaking of that - I'd seen a picture of Jay Pharoah hanging around 30 Rock this week. Damn, I thought we were going to get him playing Tracy in flashback.)

The executed-criminal hand was dark/ sick - but it made me laugh anyway. Damn you Hamm.

So 30 Rock, it was like our own game of seven minutes in heaven. After today we’ll be glad we got it out of our system, and then move on.

Saturday Night (Live) Housecleaning

2010-09-27T14:59:00.001-04:00

Saturday Night Live @ 36

Season debut. Oh yes, I knew Poehler would not disappoint. Although didn't she look just a wee bit nervous during the opening? Then imagine the butterfly garden other hosts‘ tummies must be when the clock moves from 11:29 to 11:30 p.m.

But seeing NBC advertising “Outsourced” while Amy Poehler is hosting? Kind of like seeing some douchebag brag about his skanky new wife when his former, fantastic wife is standing right there.

I loved the gay wedding at Ground Zero mosque bit ("20 percent discount for the military"). Or maybe I just loved the idea of how apoplectic some people would get at the real thing.

"The kids'll come for the boobs and stay for the books." Thanks for addressing the Sesame Street controversy. (Altho' what would Leslie Knope think of Amy saying nice things about punkass book jockeys?)

However, let’s not get too overjoyed. I think a lot of what was good in this episode was an Amy influence. I don't hold as much hope for episodes hosted by non-SNL veterans. Not while the show is still dominated by some of the cast who've been there too many moons.

Which brings me to this -- After the almost complete and utter disaster of the last 1.5 seasons, wouldn‘t a radical housecleaning have been a wonderful shock? Sure, they’ve garnered some publicity already with a stellar set of fall guest hosts. After Poehler Cranston, Lynch and Hamm are now on the menu.

But you can‘t keep nursing the show along with good guests being forced to do bad material, or incessant cameos from former favorite cast members. Who only remind us of wonderfulness past.

Dump a couple more old-timers and let the raw newbies take over right away. What’s with this acting like you need to slowly integrate them into the environment?

Once upon a time Aykroyd, Radner, Curtin, etc. not only went on the air without a chance to break in gradually, they were working without a template. They were creating the template. And it was brilliant.

Give the newbies major airtime. Get some fresh blood in the writers room. Find a way to keep the stale long-termers otherwise occupied. Maybe send ’em out to make some SNL movie. (And hey, you know the punch line to that thought.)

I'm Too Sexy for Elmo

2010-09-25T14:02:00.001-04:00

Katy Perry banned from Sesame Street

This video is "too sexy" for Sesame Street? Ah, the good old US of A. "Hey kid, stop staring at her cleavage and go play Grand Theft Auto."

Actually this is aimed at *pre-schoolers,* right? I think the only breasts that interest very little kids are the ones they nurse from.

Hell, in my universe Katy Perry could sing "I Kissed a Girl" for the whole half hour but there wouldn't be any violent video games.

I recently watched "No Country for Old Men" on a local over-the-air station at eight o' clock in the evening. Person after person being gunned down in glorious bloody full color. No editing, from what I could tell. But if someone swears? Or there was a little frontal nudity (especially, Flying Spaghetti Monster forbid, male nudity) - yikes, NO, NO, NO! CUT IT!

OK, now that you've read this, here's a quick quiz on Acceptable Images in the United States. Answer yes or no to the following:

1.

and

Answers: 1. Yes 2. No

How'd you do?

The Other AmyP(oehler)

2010-09-22T22:17:00.003-04:00

In honor of Amy Poehler (or as I call her, The OtherAmyP) hosting SNL this weekend, a few of my fave Poehler bits.

"I don't know your life, bitch."

"I want 50 dollars worth of "circus tickets."

You're a tickety-tack tranny hot mess out-of-control super tranny from Transylvania who’se not apologizing for it.”

And I've probably posted it before, and I know I've said it before, but The Shooting of the Moose, and everything else about the Palin rap, will never not be funny. (Although, if you can track down the "I'm No Angel" sketch from the same, Josh Brolin, episode - equally as hilarious.)

FIERCE!

Do Birds Say, "That's for the Humans?"

2010-09-18T22:40:00.001-04:00

On September 11, 2010, migrating birds, disoriented, it is said, by the two beams from the site of the World Trade Center, floated and swirled in the light.

Eerily beautiful. Sad for the birds. And heartwarming that some humans realize what happens to birds in cities, and try to help them.

I'm struck again by how strange it is that we share the same planet and yet we go about so unknowing of what other species are doing. Even the common animals we see all around us, in the cities. And they too are living their own lives, attending to their own drives, and do not have a whit of knowledge of what humans are, or what humans concerns are.

If you've never seen the astonishing film Winged Migration, rent it - Now. Trailer. Clips.

It's almost heartbreaking to see what birds go through to get to their summer and winter homes. (And I thought I-75 on a Friday night was bad.)

But, of course, some people have other ideas about The Birds.

Things I Need to See on TV This Year

2010-09-10T18:22:00.003-04:00

"Outsourced" outsourced to Mars. OK, the show has an attractive-looking cast. And the film that suggested the TV series was sweet and mildly amusing.
But you know what's funny about the TV show? When the customer service guy from India tells someone he's in Detroit. Ha-ha. That's especially hi-larious to those of us living (and barely making a living) in Detroit. This show is perfect proof that the coked-up network Suits have no clue what's really happening in Flyover Country.
I really need Leslie Knope, Ron Effin' Swanson, MouseRat & "Shut up, Jerry" back on the teevee. ASAP. In the plum 9:30 spot the network maroons gave to "Outsourced."
I've heard no buzz at all about it, but I had hopes "Raising Hope" would be good. Because for some reason I loved the "threw up on the baby" bit.

"Wesley Snipes" and Liz Lemon getting together. Curling up under the Snuggie, enjoying a cheesy blaster, watching a DVD of "Chums." (Tina Fey, you managed to sink my good ship Jack& Liz. So gimme this at least.)
Julianna Margulies' character getting together with Josh/Dan from "Sports Night"?
Or "Sports Night" coming back.
On a bill back-to-back with "Better Off Ted." Followed by "Moonlighting," "Gilmore Girls" and "Northern Exposure."
"Dancing With the Stars" with actual stars. Which means actors, musicians, athletes. Not someone whose claim to fame is being a dope on "reality" shows or the daughter of a dope in politics.
All reality TV disappearing. Except the ones I occasionally watch.
Two-and-a-Half Men getting outsourced to Uranus.
My name in the credits somewhere.

Shake It One Time For Me, Honey!

2010-08-09T18:24:00.004-04:00

Miscellaneous YouTube Finds

Ostensibly this was all found through research for my scripts. Yeah, research, that's what it was.

1. There is nothing that is not fantastic and fun about this vintage vid of Jerry Lee Lewis killing it on the mid-60s Brit telly. His insanity, the arrangement, the audience. Check out the goofy, cute blonde guy to Jerry's right. (This'd be a great jive for my ballroom dancing script, "International Latin.")

2. And why, why, why do I love Latin-style dancing? Do you still need an explanation?
Exhibit A (Karina & Max, Burn the Floor) (See about :50 seconds in.)

3. Among the hundreds of songs I've screened while planning the ballroom script, this reminder of Peggy Lee's sizzling greatness on "Fever."

(Ignore the visuals and just enjoy the performance. I like to imagine the choreography for my "imaginary friends" in the script.)

And yeah, yeah, I should write some longwinded (me, longwinded?) post about how as a former musician and longtime writer I worry that YouTube equals bad for creative people. That composers and musicians and writers and actors, etc., are shortchanged on compensation for their life's efforts.

But then I read comments from kids who've had their ears opened to Brahms and Benny Goodman, their eyes dazzled by the Nicholas Brothers and Fred Astaire, in part thanks sonic surfing on the Net - and well, I can't help be a little glad for it.

4. One more. For my feature film, "Do Not Delete," two 30-somethings time travel back to college days. Researching what we were listening to in the late 80s/ early 90s brought me to Bruce's Pink Cadillac. Lousy picture, great performance. (And speaking of longwinded - if you want to skip the Garden of Eden part, jump to around 6:20.)

Yep, not for the first time, or even the thousandth time, do I wonder what I did without the www.

Bette Midler is Still Divine

2010-07-17T15:38:00.002-04:00

You Cannot Stay Depressed Watching Bette Midler Dressed as a Mermaid Singing Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy *

Back in the Mesozoic era, when I was a wee young teen, I saw Bette on the Carson show. The next day I was raving about her, and my friends didn’t know who she was.

That may have been the first time I knew I had to get out of Essexville, MI.

What a lovely woman, who has survived this crazy business and her personal ups and downs and remained gracious and entertaining.

I love that she managed to raise her beloved daughter out of the spotlight, and allowed her to develop her own interests. And her charity work to put more of another favorite thing of mine - trees :) - in NYC.

The reason I happened to meander farther into Bette territory on the YouTubes today? I’ve been listening to her fine interpretation of Mambo Italiano to get myself inspired while writing the International Latin script.

So hey, goombah, enjoy.

* BTW, my favorite exchange on the YouTube Boogie-Woogie comments:
"WTF? ... i have a version of this song with gene krupa. its way better."
"Was Gene Krupa wearing a Mermaid costume?"

EXACTLY!

Emmys: Get With the (Parks & Recreation) Program!

2010-07-09T14:41:00.007-04:00

After all these years, after seeing how you so often ignored other programs with just that right combination of warm and weird, offbeat and endearing - Moonlighting and Northern Exposure and The Gilmore Girls - I should know better.

But oh, Emmy, so little love for Parks and Recreation?

Why is the best comedy not nominated for best comedy? Why is a show that was consistently funny and filled with heart, not getting one slot for writing? And what about Nick Offerman being snubbed for supporting (scene-stealing) actor?

Well, I'm speechless. So I'd like Ron to give the speech "honoring" the other shows that did get the nod. Other shows: "It is true. That you have won this award."

At least we have Amy. As sweetly strong, slightly crazed Leslie. Who can't figure out why anyone would rather be Cleopatra than Eleanor Roosevelt. Leslie who insists "I'm Not Nervous" about this date. Leslie, who just happens to have Amy Poehler's gift for singing and rapping.

And somehow the jaunty little theme song snuck in for a nom too. So Emmy voters, perhaps next year, you'll watch the show all the way through. Not just the opening credits. And then we can all sing Kum Bay Yah together. Or maybe Jabba the Hutt, Jabba the Hutt.

Movie Lines I Wish I'd Written

2010-07-04T16:38:00.006-04:00

“Audiences don’t know that somebody sits down and writes a picture. They think the actors make it up as they go along.” - Sunset Boulevard. Spoken by William Holden. Written by Charles Brackett & Billy Wilder.

Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

You complete me.

Say hello to my little friend.

I just want to say one word to you…Plastics.
Tell me everything that's happened since the beginning.
Well, first the earth cooled. Then the dinosaurs came …

What we've got here...is a failure to communicate.
You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me?
Gentlemen, you can't fight in here. This is the War Room!

They’re here.
I’ll be back.
I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.
We'll always have Paris.

Here’s Johnny.
As if. Okay, so he is kind of a Baldwin.
I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody.
There's no crying in baseball!

Houston, we have a problem.

It's not a tumah!

We’re gonna need a bigger boat.
Fasten your seat belts - it's going to be a bumpy night.

I’m as mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore.
I love the smell of napalm in the morning.
I remember every detail. The Germans wore gray, you wore blue.
I'm not bad; I'm just drawn that way.

She's my daughter! She's my sister! She's my daughter! My sister, my daughter. She's my sister and my daughter.
My daughter is in pain...Give my daughter the shot!

Show Me The Money
Forget it Jake. It’s Chinatown.
This is another fine mess you’ve gotten me into.
That’s the way it crumbles, cookie-wise.

All right, Mister DeMille, I’m ready for my closeup.
Here’s looking at you kid.

You had me at hello.

I am serious. And don’t call me Shirley.

I Was Always the Glee Generation

2010-06-13T16:04:00.001-04:00

And so, it's Christmas for Theatre Geeks - Tony Awards day. In its honor, the New York Times tells me that the Youths of the Country are embracing their inner theatre nerds. So much so, that you're no longer a nerd if you love music theatre. It's hip to be geek. Or Gleek. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/13/fashion/13Cultural.html

The author, who seems to be a decade younger than me(!), reflects on the differences between his teen days and now: "Whereas the high-schoolers of my era wouldn’t admit to liking show tunes for fear of seeming gay, those of today wouldn’t even necessarily conflate the two things, and besides, what’s wrong with being gay?"

Ah, whatever Gen we're on now, bless you. Bless you, kids, for your enlightenment. Although, to tell you the truth, in the Bad Old Days there was almost something cool (that's sick to you) about being so out of it you were almost in again.

Anyway, back to big-time theatre. They're reviving "Funny Girl." No, they haven't cloned La Streisand. They're actually going to get someone else to play the lead. And then they're going to find someone who sings "Respect" better than Aretha. And ... well, fill in your own impossible to beat standard.

Still, just the talk of that 60s classic musical got me in the mood to watch an iconic film musical moment. Funny Girl's "Don't Rain on My Parade" aka The Statue of Liberty scene.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y6E2Mooz_LA

And although there is only one Babs, I guess Lea Michele's version of the song itself ain't bad.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2FQ40_fVDk

Now, I have my problems with aspects of Glee, in general. (Starting with my first question: Is it hyperbolic satire with broadly drawn caricatures or mushy sitcom - with broadly drawn caricatures?) But I do appreciate that it's introducing some great music - not only Broadway, but classic R & B and rock - to those Youths I mentioned above.

And listening to/ watching that "Funny Girl" scene got me thinking in general about something I don't say often - it is the ARTS of America that make me most proud to be from this country. The U.S., in so many ways one hot mess of a place, has given the world Broadway. And Jazz. And R & B. And on and on. And I'm glad I was born gleek enough to appreciate, to revel in, so much of it:

The Gershwins. Stevie Wonder and Stephen Sondheim. Streisand and Aretha. Holland Dozier Holland. Benny Goodman. Bruce Springsteen. Christina Aguilera. Gene Kelly. Fred Astaire. And that's just the first dozen or so names off the top of my head.

So, yes, I'll be watching the Tonys. Every musical isn't a gem. Every musical isn't my cup of tea. But it's still pretty cool that we've got so much, I can afford to be this picky. That I'm from MusicNerdNation.

In My Lousy Flash Forward I Saw the Crappy LOST Finale

2010-05-28T23:56:00.004-04:00

I’m amazed at the number of fans LOST had until the bitter end. Far fewer people seemed to be satisfied with the one-season wonder, Flash Forward. (Based on my highly unscientific occasional skimming of Television Without Pity.)

But while the former show may have had the edge in some areas - a few individual characters more fully fleshed out in writing or acting - when it came down to it, both were muddled messes.

The main problem? The creators of these shows, and others of the ilk (e.g., The X-Files), shows of the multi-character, sci-fi mystery, Big Myth genre - didn’t seem to know their final destination back when they started the journey.

So instead of a clearly defined path, with a few interesting scenic side-trips, we got one of those road-trips from hell, where daddy refuses to look at a map, and mom has a permanent migraine and Billy is dangling Jenny’s pet hamster out the window. (Play along with me, my metaphorical family took their bleepity-bleep hamster on their vacation, OK?)

These shows are more infuriatingly coy and self-satisfied than every reality show diva on the planet combined. They provided fewer straightforward answers than a Family-Values senator or preacher who’s just been caught wearing diapers with a hooker or taking a rent boy to Europe.

Oh, they tease us with their shiny new toy of a premise. Only for us to find a few weeks or years after we started playing with the toy that it was filled with Grade A Chinese lead.

I stopped watching Lost regularly sometime while they were all still on the island (or dead, or whatever they were) the first time. Before some of them left, or came back, or flew sideways, or whatever. Then this year I got into the habit of flipping over to it in between other shows, keeping it on for background noise while I cyber-surfed.

But I didn’t really know what was going on. Which means I could’ve been one of the writers.

Ba-dum-bump.

And then there’s Flash Forward. I’ve read the novel by Robert Sawyer, the Canadian writer of science-heavy science fiction.

It’s a hell of a premise, a great twist on the sci-fi theme that’s been a favorite fantasy of mine since childhood - time travel.

In fact, my recent movie script, Do Not Delete, is a time-travel theme. I’ve also dabbled with other time travel plots. And read a zillion short-stories and novels and seen numerous movies and TV shows utilizing the topic.

So Flash Forward, the TV show, naturally grabbed my attention. But oh, what a hot mess it was from Episode One, FADE IN. Right through the Calvalcade of Cliches that was the abrupt and unsatisfying season/ series finale.

Take that last episode. S’il vous plait. Bitte. Please.

I don’t have the faintest clue what was supposedly going on with the building blowing up, or why the Bad Guys With Guns were also there. But everything in those scenes was so clichéd it looked like a parody:

The “ruthless” gunmen jittery, jumping the trigger at just the sound of a cell phone ringing.
Ralph‘sLessTalentedBrother hiding behind a shuttered closet door and not one of the Bad Guys glancing that way as they entered the room.
And Die-Hard, the Dork Version, with Our Hero running in shampoo-commercial Slo-Mo toward the window as the building explodes.

Joseph Fiennes spent most of Flash Forward

searching for a consistent American accent.

Plus, why was the threat to the building a surprise. Didn't all of the law enforcement people (including the extras) see themselves there in their FFs. Or not see themselves, in the case of the ones who were mowed down just before 10 p.m.

And then there’s the silly Oh she wasn’t being drowned, she was being saved. Oh, she wasn’t dead, just has a really thready pulse. Oh, oh, oh …

The only characters I found the least bit interesting were Janis, and to a lesser extent, Lloyd. (I know, I know, but I like his English accent and puppy-dog eyes.) Oh, and the savant, whazizname.

I did have one happy association when I watched a few of the last episodes, though. Every time the show mentioned April 29, I remembered my fun trip to an ice show in Canada on that day this year.

Until I realized, if there’d really been a (second) worldwide blackout on that day, I might’ve driven off the Ambassador Bridge.

Ew, I’ll probably dream that now.

And my five-second dream will be more interesting than Lost Seasons 2-6 and Flash Forward, Season Everything, put together.

This is How Olympic Athletes Think

2010-05-05T14:36:00.001-04:00

OK, so this is how Olympic-caliber athletes think. It’s a warmup before a Canadian Stars on Ice show. Vancouver bronze medalist Joannie Rochette, sorta done practicing, or maybe just taking a break, sits near the ice. Two other Olympic-eligible skaters land triple jumps, in sync, at opposite ends of rink. JoRo gets up, goes back on the ice, lands a triple-triple jump, sits back down. Just like that. As if to say, hello, I'm a frickin' Olympic medalist. I’ll see your solo triple and raise you a triple.

That is how Olympic athletes think. Even at an ice show practice.

Sneaking a Peek at Athletes at Their Peak

Life is mainly regular old stuff, stuff you have to do, stuff you really don't want to do, stuff you just do. Then every once in awhile, you get a treat. Like for me, it's spending warm nights in cool rinks, watching people who can race around on ice skates like Horowitz used to race around the keyboard. It's watching people who are my stars on ice, in places like this arena, from center ice 10 rows up.

Good thing I saw the warmup, 'cos my show seat was way over at rink's end, up top. The kind of low-rent seat that can distance you from the performances. (Of course, I’m someone who’s been spoiled rotten, able to watch top skaters close up at these kinds of practies many other times. How you gonna keep 'em up in the peanut gallery once they've sat downtown?)

The Main Show

Among the actual show highlights for me at this 2010 edition of Stars on Ice, Canada, were Rochette's “Summertime” followed by Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir's adaptation of the Mahler program that won them World and Olympic gold this year. Just magnificent performances by skaters at the peak of the power.

Another fave - the “Intermission” program, skated by three of the guys and Ms. Rochette. This cast meshes well. If they secretly hate each others’ guts, they’re faking friendship superbly.

Of Course, I'd Be Charmed if They Just Sat There Texting
Informal practices are always fun to watch. Saw lots of cute stuff, like when Kurt Browning was practicing footwork, and Rochette started to playfully imitate him. I just wanted to pick them both up, put them in my purse and have them with me to do charming things like that all day. (BTW Dear AllSkatersEverywhere: Mr. Browning is a good person to try to imitate footwork-wise.)

It took me awhile to realize some skaters were running through parts of programs, not skating to random warmup songs. Duh. (I had been secretly giving props to former world champ Jeff Buttle for what I thought was a brilliant ad-libbing to Stones music.)

Illegal Geese

Later in the practice Tessa and Scott - that's Virtue and Moir to you non-obssessed - practiced their signature move, the Goose, with a fantastic (but deemed “illegal” for competition) dismount. And some of their elaborate lifts. (TBH, who’d just put her eyes back in her head from the eligible skaters’ JumpFest, was all *eek* again.)

And then the hubby/wife dance team of Dubreil and Lauzon ran through a bit of their “newspaper” program, all slinky and everything, as if to say, “No one even has to ask US if we’re sleeping together.”

Javier Fernandez - Will He Reign From Spain or Mainly Stay Kind of Plain?
Of course, being an obsessed fan also mean the joy of discovering new talent. (Once upon a time JoRo and V/M were my new little finds.)

Here's another one who might make a big splash (by not splatting) someday. A kid from that hotbed of ice sports, Spain. Javier Fernandez. I don’t know when he got on my radar within the past several months, but he did.

I was looking at this drunken pirate’s website/ wiki entries (his long program was a wacky routine to Pirates of the Caribbean). Not a lot of detail yet. Because again - Spain?!? (A few weeks ago I was reading some condolences posted at Joannie Rochette’s website. It popped out at me that one of them began, “I’m from Spain - ice skating isn’t very big here …” It’d be interesting to see if that would change much if this young man progresses to a high level.)

It’s just always fascinating how people get into something, no matter what their circumstances, as if they’re just destined to do it.

And you know who that kind of person is? The kind of person who gets up in the middle of an ice show practice and throws down a damn hard old jump combo. Just for the hell of it.

"Why Don't She Write?"

2010-03-20T15:07:00.008-04:00

Bonus points if you can name the movie reference in the title

Just realized it's been three weeks of post-Olympic fog since I last wrote something here. I still don't know how Joannie Rochette managed to skate in Vancouver. I don't think she does either.

I continue to work on two scripts.

FADE IN
INT. AMY'S PLACE - EVENING

So far I've expressed one of these stories, "International Latin," in all of the following formats:

As a one-act play,
An unfinished full-length play and musical,
A one-hour TV pilot, and
A short film script.

Next will come posting the script line by line on twitter and reciting it on the corner of 11 Mile and Main in Royal Oak.

By the way, bonus points if you get what the title "International Latin" refers to. (Answer: A category of ballroom dancing styles.)

I have lived with these characters for more than a year now. I know them so well, and yet I'm still filling them in every day.

Writing is so hard. And yet it's so fun. You get to be all the actors. And the director, lighting designer, music editor.

A few days ago I finished the short-film version of the "International Latin" script and submitted it to a contest run by S3 Entertainment Group. That's the all-services production company that's also been one of the first to get new film studio space up-and running here in Southeast Michigan. (Hey guys, freebie plug.)

Then I went back to polish up the one-hour pilot version of "International Latin" for some upcoming TV scriptwriting contests.

And finally, after three months I've gone back to the other script, a 170-page!!! film script, "Do Not Delete," which is about time-travelling ex-college roommates.

Oy, where to start ~~trimming~~ slashing the hell out of that thing?

I've decided that editing is to writing what food poisoning is to gourmet dining.

FADE OUT (for now)

THE END (for now)

Image: Gabriele Goffredo and Antonia Goffredo

The Olympics: How I Mostly Love Being Half-Canadian

2010-02-28T19:33:00.002-05:00

Croooosby! [Shakes Fist.] I - living in Detroit of all places - have been a fan of yours for two or three years. But maybe a little less today. Because I did want the boys from this side of the border to win. The way I figure it, you folks have clean, safe cities and great healthcare. You could've thrown us the bone of one little hockey game.

But mostly, I do love Canada and Canadians. And although I haven't spent much time there, I'm proud of my Canadian ancestry. (My dad's side came across Lake Huron from Ontario and from way on up in Beauharnois, Quebec.)

And I especially have adored Canadian figure skaters. Brian O. Kurt. Jamie & David. Virtue and Moir. Joannie.

I've been a fan of the latter since well before the Torino games. Like so many others, how long I had waited for the times she would pull it together at a big event.

And in the meanwhile, I too have faced my share of hardships over the years.

So how much more personal did this second week of the Vancouver games seem to me.

I think I've handled my challenges as well as I could. But if there's ever a day I feel myself faltering, I will look back on the way that beautiful (on the inside and out) young woman acquitted herself in the face of tragedy and with the eyes of half a billion on her. And pulled out two of the performances of her life. Merci, ma petite.

And Tessa and Scott. Temporary transplants to my state. The millennial Torvill and Dean. How special, how ethereal, yet how down-to-earth. I'm thrilled to witness the gift of your talent.

Thank you, Canada. Ya got some good kids there. Even the one who scored the OT goal. I'm fully proud to be half Canadian.

Shorpy, Part The Second

2010-02-15T18:21:00.005-05:00

Early Motown
No matter where you live in the States, on Shorpy.com you might find pictures that’ll hurtle you back a century in your own neighborhood’s life. How I have pored over this view of a sunny day on Woodward Avenue, 93 years past.

I’ve wondered about the mothers and their children. Was that girl in the white dress – above the ankle! – a flapper-to-be, a handful for her worried parents? And just up the street from them, a mom grabs onto her exuberant young son as he attempts, (like all boys everywhere and everytime) to make his great get-away.

Look, there’s a soldier, in the same kind of Army uniform I’ve seen in a picture of my grandfather that was taken the same year, in a town 100 miles to the north. And what is the man in the shade, the White Suit with Hands on His Hips, what is he looking at off beyond our frame to the left/west?

My gawd, the cars. The streetcars. The signs. Hudsons. A movie theatre playing a picture show about Ty Cobb. The Soldiers and Sailors monument, which still stands downtown.

Such moving personal emotions come from looking at these 100-years-past strangers. But Shorpy is also about sharing the view with other commenters.

Roadside Gawkers

Take for instance, this picture of gawkers (there‘ve always been gawkers) eyeing a D.C. storm‘s damage, 1913.

The range of 21st-century comments on Shorpy are typical: Wry jokes about those people who finally got to be on the internet. Another who expresses the all-too-common desire to jump into the photo and strike up a convo (as we say on the Internet) with those denizens of this black-and-white world.
Who Made It Out Alive?

One thing leads to another, and then a different picture of the same storm’s havoc.

And as I read the reports of the terrible damage, I study my own reaction. Hastily skimming, hoping to learn that people described as “perhaps fatally hurt,” or “likely to die,” (they didn’t mince words in those days), did indeed survive.

And why do I wish that, as those people are all long gone anyway?

Doesn’t it go back to the same reason we wish to jump in the photo in the first place - the connection we feel with these people, the feeling that they’re not dead - because they still live in those photos.

And then I wonder - who’ll find a picture of us, 100 years from now, and will they think about us, and care about us, and wish they could talk with us?

All Images Courtesy http://www.shorpy.com/

This Old Photo: Shorpy.com Part One

2010-02-15T18:13:00.004-05:00

Shorpy.

First Shorpy was a kid coal miner who had a short, hard life. But because a few pictures of him were taken one day long ago, he lives on in that ephemeral way that photos can bring us immortality - randomly, sometimes whimsically, very often poignantly.

This is Shorpy the boy.

Shorpy the Website

And now Shorpy lives on as the very name of a website devoted to the mystery and yet the immediacy of old photos.

Each day brings a few new photos, some of which have been lovingly restored by the site runners. And with these instant portraits of long-ago days comes witty, informative, nostalgic, always fascinating and fascinated blog commentary.

It Takes a Village, ca. 1905

Here’s a recent gem from New York City, 110 years ago. Sure, it's a chance for non-New Yorkers to discover this beautiful, still existent architectural gem which has had at least three lives. (Market, courthouse, library.) A kremlinesque colorful lower Manhattan landmark which has posed for paintings, from the Ashcan School all the way to present-day sidewalk artists.

But on a nonspecific day, circa 1905, was the centerpiece of this quick study on early 20th-century urban street life.

HD Web-See
Ramp open the Hi-Def view and drink in the details of a day when George M. Cohan was actually performing somewhere in that city: Take a look up 10th Street - The laundry airing on the roof opposite. The cop, the stairway loiterer, the streetcars, the horse-and-buggies, the wagon piled high with barrels, the horse fountain(?) on the corner of the building. And to the left, on Sixth: The train pulling away, the guy below striding along, reading his paper, a sign on a more distant building advertising a Famous Old Remedy Painkiller (Keep It Handy).

30 Rock, '33

Now quick, jump forward with me. Is this moment in time in the Village really only 28 years before this stunning central Manhattan image?
And is there any more spectacular city image anywhere than this moody night shot of the brand-spanking new, now-iconic 30 Rockefeller Center?

All images courtesty http://www.shorpy.com/

OOOOOhhh! The 2010 Winter Olympics Opening Ceremonies

2010-02-13T13:04:00.007-05:00

The Opening Ceremonies. What'd ya think?

I’m an Olympics freak. I want to like any Olympics’ Opening Ceremony, and I really want to like anything Canada does. (Technically I’m half-Canadian, with ancestors from Quebec and Ontario).

Sport, art, music, drama, spectacle - this is my thing. But … how can I say this politely, and friendly, like a good half-Canadian.

Um, I liked the whales on the floor.

Semi-Hot Mess
Really - the best parts were those that celebrated nature more than that big noisy hot mess involving violins on the moon and mohawked dancers. Grungie tapdancing fiddling kilted lumberjacks. (And I’m still confused where the Maritimes thing turned into the Quebec part.)

Aside from the music going on forever, and the not-particularly exciting dancing, the set and costumes for that long East Coast section were just jarringly unappealing to me. Even the neon-blue boat against that weird scary orange-yellow moon. Yuck.

The Good, The Meh and the Whimsical

I liked flying prairie boy. The evocative rainforest. The dudes in red going completely vertically down the tissuey white mountain. And those whales.

But oh, the many phallic symbols. And the cauldron malfunction. And Wayne Gretzky in a fecking pickup truck tooling around downtown Vancouver with a giant doobie. Worst torch light in my memory. Not exactly like the guy coming down the ski jump with the torch (Lillehammer?) or the flaming arrow lighting a cauldron (Barcelona?).

And O, Canada, one of the most beautiful national anthems ever. That dirge version was an early indicator of more missteps to come.

Bob Costas Will Be Back to Say Something Dumb In a Minute
It also almost seemed like the long musical “codas” were there so US TV could cut away for commercials. Switching back and forth from NBC to online viewing of Eurosport feeds I noted one of the few times NBC missed a really new music section was the Samuel Barber piece - yeah, they missed the *American* composer* - at the end of the rainforest section.

Why We Love the Winter Os
That said, I still love the Winter Olympics. The small, cozy feeling just makes you want to move to a quaint mountain valley and ski and skate all day. Even if you can't do either.

I enjoy watching almost all the Winter Olympic sports except curling. (Brooms? A top?)

In light of Friday's tragedy, I don’t want to come across as insensitive - but the very fascination of the Winter OOOOOs as a whole IS just how dangerous almost all the sports are. People hurtling down icy mountains and even icier roller-coaster-like tracks. Or in a rink, crashing onto the ice or each other.

And that highest ski jump? I don’t even want to go to the top of that thing and cling to it for dear life. Let alone ski down it and leap off. How breathtakingly insane.

Let’s Not get Overly Coo-coo for Coco

2010-01-23T11:44:00.000-05:00

Did the greatest entertainer in the world just pass away or something? Good lawd, the most rabid Conan fans need a bit of perspective. A guy lost a job. He's still rich. You'll get to see him somewhere else. Stop posting comments on blogs wishing all the Olds who watch Leno would die. Because, first of all - nobody has been watching Leno. Not “older“ people. Not even Jeff Zucker.

Ah youth, to be so naïve you’re actually still surprised by the fact that quite frequently crappy no-talents get ahead of other people at work. Yes, it’s true! I’m old enough to have been on the Conan end of that scenario several times. (Only I was making in the tens of thousands what he makes in the millions.)

It's All So Goofy
At some point this past week or so I went from being transfixed by the highway wreckage that is NBC to being tired of all the Coco-hype. He's not always THAT funny. Especially if, like me, you prefer more intellectual, political satire to goofiness. His monologues are frequently in the mediocre-to-average range and some of the bits, like Masturbating Bear, pretty juvenile. To me, the funniest stuff on his shows have been the taped-on-location bits - the UPS delivery guy, the pool boy. (Triumph was funny but a little too mean at times for my taste.)

And he's certainly not a great interviewer, which should be a prerequisite for a talk show. But then again, neither is Leno, Ferguson or Fallon. (Letterman, when he's not being snotty, has his moments with guests that he likes.) And to be fair, there was actually a time when Leno used to make some half-way decent political zingers.

Anyway, deep breaths, people.

The Weekend of Weird Outfits & Who Got What? Golden Globes & Figure Skating Championships

2010-01-18T15:18:00.004-05:00

Bling, Bling, Bling
This weekend I was overwhelmingly bedazzled - and sometimes due to actual performances. Let's put it this way - any actress who's being panned for her choice of high or low coture at the Golden Globes need only check out Johnny Weir's free skate outfit. She will feel much better about herself.

Gold Medals and Golden Globes
These strange few days included trying to monitor:

Two sets of figure skating national championships - the prelude to the Winter Olympics, and

That fluffiest of Hollywood self-congratulatory events - the Golden Globes. Which are supposedly a prelude to the Oscars. Yawn.

It's all a blur at this point. Did Ryan Bradley win the Best Supporting Actor in a Musical or Comedy? Did Drew Barrymore and Justin Long win the Pairs event?

I do know this - the Golden Globes broadcast did not win best Short Program. Gawd.

Some Globes You Got

The movie-star laden Globes also tosses a few bones to the supposedly lesser (but often greater) TV lineup. My primary interest. (And by the way, feck you, movie stars who couldn't be bothered to even applaud for the TV show nominees and winners. We saw you, and we took names.)

As an event, it's the Hostess Twinkies of television. Occasionally you like to indulge in something so frothy and unfullfilling. But after awhile you get a little sick.

But I'm glad Ricky Gervais thinks he's so funny -that makes one of us with that opinion.

Making the Team
When the GGs rolled around Sunday evening I was still recuperating from three days of US and Canadian skating events.

Miracle of miracles, a few standout performances revived my sadly flagging interest in the art/sport/occasional farce of skating. I'm back on Team Jeremy and Team Joannie (Rochette) for their work in winning the US Men's and Canadian Ladies crown, respectively.

Jeremy Abbott's 2010 Nationals Freeskate

And then there are the incomparable Virtue and Moir. You could OD on this OD, feel compelled to watch their Compulsory and freely watch the Free Skate for hours.They Are Magic. The Best. The End.

Abbott and Tessa and Scott grew up elsewhere but now train in Detroit. We are happy to take credit for them.

And now a couple days rest before more rich people patting themselves on the back (the Screen Actors Guild awards) and the divas of American dance and lady skaters take the ice for U.S. Nationals, Part the Second.

MY DEAD CAT COULD RUN NBC BETTER, AKA JEFF ZUCKER'S REIGN OF ERROR

2010-01-10T19:58:00.015-05:00

I would’ve never thought I would look forward to Comcast taking over a company. But as Jeff Zucker continues his Reign of Error at the not-so-proud peacock network, I’m rooting for the lousy cable company to do something better.

Even if that means with Comcast running things I might have to wait for Parks & Rec to show up on my TV sometime between 8 a.m. and noon, noon and 6 p.m. or 6 to 9 p.m.

And then there’s the NBC Talk Show Titanic.

Where’s Johnnnny (Carson, When You Need Him)?
I grew up on Johnny Carson. He managed to project himself as both a Hollywood Rat Pack-type insider and a good Midwestern boy; do schtick and political humor; AND interview everyone from starlets to opera stars better than any current host (except perhaps Colbert) does.

It was the perfect package.

NBC Disaster Movie
But this current lineup - this was all destined to go bad from Day One - Conan being too "weird" for 11:30 and too East Coasty for L.A., Leno completely stinking up the place at 10. (Fallon sucking like a stoned guy at a college station is a given.)

As the youths say, EPIC FAIL.

My Perfect Talk Show
These days it's much harder to do something really different and appeal to a really mass audience. It's all niche programming.

But if I were trying to put together a late-night show with a little of something great for everyone, here are the ingredients I’d want:
1. The Tonight Show with Conan theme song,
2. A little Letterman monologue (and perhaps an even smaller quantity of Kimmel),
3. The first five minutes of Jon Stewart's Daily Show,
4. The bondage-guy dancer from Craig Ferguson,
5. Conan’s taped pieces out and about and
6. A Stephen Colbert interview

This combined would make one very good show.

I'm Thinking Arby's
Also, Jimmy Fallon should be working someplace at his true talent level, perhaps as the drive-through window guy at Arby’s. And Jay should confine his public appearances these days to eating at Arby’s.

And here’s a novel idea - how about a woman/ person of color on one of the Big Shows? Or is 2010 too soon for such a radical idea?

Your Favorite Non-PC Olympic Figure Skaters

2010-01-02T16:12:00.003-05:00

(As always buoys and gulls, remember to click back to this page after going to a link.)

Ah, figure skaters. Some of them are just a wee bit isolated from the world’s realities.

I rather dislike these contemporary Russian dancers anyway, so here for your bug-eyed WTF viewing “pleasure” is Domnina & Shabalin‘s 2010 Original Dance.

She said she picked the music after her new dog ran around the room upon hearing it.

I think her dog’s a racist.

Shades of Alexei Yagudin in 1997.

I'll give them a benefit of the doubt and assume it was just a cultural misunderstanding thing.

"These freaks are leeching the dignity from our beloved sport."

Then of course, there’s drag.

‘Cos ha-ha there’s nothing funnier than a guy dressing like a woman.

And we won’t even get into flip side- guys trying-too-hard-to-prove-they’re-straight.

Figure skating, I keeed because I luurve you.

Not as much as I used to, but that’s thanks to your crappy new judging system and same old cheating judges.

Oh dear, to cleanse our palate, how about a little of the exquisite Yu Na Kim (or Kim Yu Na), who is a class act. With a capital C. (As opposed to a capital K ...KK.)

In Which I Don't Write But Name Drop Like Crazy

2010-01-01T22:53:00.002-05:00

Random thoughts:

1. All my previous posts seem soooo last decade.

2. In the first 20 hours of 2010 I ate two pizzas.

But not to worry, I also walked for nine minutes.

3. If I’m going to live my life like a less successful Liz Lemon it’d be nice to at least look like Tina Fey. (And hell, I've even had a thing for a piano player or two.)

4. It sucks to feel like you have a hangover when you didn’t have any Fun preceding it.

5. The Jersey Shore, Real Housewives, America’s Next Top Model, Top Chef, The Hills, P. Hilton, Kardashian.

Sorry, I don’t follow any of the above, don’t care about any of the above, have no thoughts about any of the above - I’m just trying to up my SEO.

6. I’m going to open a restaurant as near as possible to the TSA checkpoints at the airport and call it Security Dinner Theatre.

7. Why yes, I am tired and silly tonight, why do you ask?

8. At least I got some good creative writing done during my week off.

Come on, my little script babies, make momma some money in the new year.

9. I never got around to posting this before. It's the crazy Christmas house in Royal Oak, MI.

Me like.

2009 & the Aughts were not the greatest, and still there may be hard times ahead ... but let's face the music and dance. (And be thankful that people like Astaire and Rogers and Nat King Cole lived to share their talents with us.)

Happy New Year Everyone.

Now Comes the Really Hard Part

2009-12-20T15:33:00.000-05:00

Fade out.
THE END!!! .....
Aaannnd: 158 pages ...

Yeah, it needs just a wee bit of trimming. But do I get a celebratory cigar and glass of wine now?

From Cynical to Sweet in Seven Seconds Flat

2009-12-18T23:41:00.002-05:00

Ah, the internets. Ain't it great how it can mirror or change your always excitable moods.

One minute I'm on this new favorite site looking at vintage photos. [Including a geekily fascinating post about what a prop guy wrote on a Leave it to Beaver letter. More on this site another time.]

Then I'm at a blog from one of that site's commenters, laughing at this snarky post. ["Just think of how stupid the average person is, and then realize that half of them are even stupider."]

Then I'm getting misty-eyed at all the youthful enthusiasm amongst the crazy Washington state high schoolers who did a Lip Dub challenge:

School #1

School #2

Thanks, Internet.

I Hate These End-of-Decade Lists But I’m Doing One Anyway

2009-12-11T12:59:00.006-05:00

It doesn’t seem like we’re 10 years into the new century. Time flies when you’re having a sh**ty decade.

And after the big brouhaha over the new millennium (ah, remember our 2K worries, how quaint and innocent) this seems tres anticlimactic.

However, this is what writers do when they need something to do. A trendy little list. You know that. It’s either this or talking about some horrible “reality” stars.

So a Best Of Blog.
We all live in different cities, me and my many readers. Ahem.

So I won’t talk about The Local Detroit Entertainment Scene. (OK, just a shout-out to some “smaller” Detroit groups of various stripes, like Go Comedy! and Eisenhower Dance and Detroit Chamber Winds.)

MOVIES?
Meh, I don’t feel like talking about movies. (See "Too Much Boy Stuff" below.)

POP MUSIC?
I heard a Best Of list the other day. Half the bands I couldn’t hum anything if you put a gun to my favorite teddy’ bear’s head. The other 50 percent Ithink their music is crap.

But some runners up on the list, like Outkast's “Hey Ya"? - Now THAT I liked. What can I say - I’m hip. ***

And finally -
BEST OF THE TEEVEE MACHINE

DRAMAS
For the past few years longer-form series haven’t held much interest for me. Many recent critical favorites never sounded that appealing to me, and when I catch up with them on DVD or in syndie, that’s been confirmed. Why?

1. Too much Boys Stuff.
The Wire, Sopranos, Deadwood. Perhaps even Mad Men. They’re about The Guys first, with women as sometimes interesting accessories.

2. Too many shows with overly-bizarre premises. I definitely like whimsical (the 90s show Northern Exposure). But not over-the-top weird (Pushing Daisies).

3. So my dramas list would probably be short:

The West Wing (even though I never forgave Sorkin for treating Sports Night like Tiger Woods treated … fill in your own joke).

The Gilmore Girls. The first hourlong since Northern Exposure to pull me in with just the right mix of banter (in this case, mile-a-minute) and fully developed characters.

But wait. Was it really an hour-long comedy. That brings me to-

COMEDIES (SITCOMS)
With a dearth of hour-longs to enchant me I’ve become more a sitcom girl in recent years.

But I miss seeing newly minted faves on other critics‘ lists. Too new, they say.

Bah. Here’s my thought: Put Parks & Rec and Better Off Ted on a Great Newbies with Potential for Long-Lasting Minor TV Immortality If Not Prematurely Canceled list.

And in the veteran cateogry put 30 Rock on the Oh God You Frustrate Me But I Still Love You list.

You get my point. Give me funny. Offbeat.
And some female characters that aren’t just The Wife.

*** I’m Hip

I dig, I’m in step,
When it was hip to be hep, I was
When it was hip to be hep, I was hep.
I don’t blow but I’m a fan
Look at me swing, ring a ding ding
I even call my girlfriend “Man,” I’m so hip.

I’m hip, I’m alive
I enjoy any joint where there’s jive.
I’m on top of every trend
Look at me go vodee odo
Bobby Darin knows my friend
I’m so hip.
---Dave Frischberg

Blossom Dearie Sings I'm Hip

While I'm Sitting Here With a Stomach Virus I Might As Well Kvetch About SNL Again

2009-11-22T14:48:00.000-05:00

SNL with host Joseph Gordon Levitt 11/21/09 (or 21/11/09 for you furriners)

So, I read comments on some sites where right-wingers are happy SNL is "finally" sticking it (so to speak) to Obama.

And I think - that's probably what's wrong with SNL. Back in the day conservatives didn't even watch those dirty hippies on SNL.

No wait, that's what's wrong - SNL doesn't HAVE any dirty hippies any more. Just a couple of post-something-something absurdist ironists and some kids who grew up watching other bad SNL seasons and dreadful sitcoms with enhanced laugh tracks and now think that's what humor is.

And the digital shorts? Again, I was thinking the other day about the little moves that SNL did way in the past. A wider variety of stuff, from the sick Mr. Bill to sweet little clips of people greeting relatives at a train station, set to "Homeward Bound." But Samberg's stuff, while sometimes clever, has all the same tone.

Or maybe I'm just grumpy because there was no Feylin last night.

(Oh, but props to "the kid from 3rd Rock" for his energy and especially the salute to "Singing in the Rain.")

Damn Yankees AKA Amy's Rules for What Team to Root For

2009-11-02T17:13:00.005-05:00

On what may be the last day of baseball this season, I want to explain how you choose a team to root for if you otherwise have no affiliation or preferences. Or at least how I do it.

1. Location, Location, Location.
Is one of the teams from the Midwest/ North? (The Northeast or, in a pinch a cool Northwestern place like Seattle.) I will almost always root for them if they're playing the South or West. Even if the "northern team" is normally a rival of "my" team.

I'm not too fond of Ohio, so I have to force the Cleveland love. But if they're playing some team from Texas or Florida? No sweat. I'm not, repeat NOT still replaying the Civil War. But I'm a lifelong Northerner. That's how it rolls.

2. Is one team from what you perceive to be a cooler town - even if you've never been there? Cool does not necessarily have to be hip. Being from the Detroit area I will root for other RustBeltian towns - like Buffalo, for instance.

3. But being from a town with a downright cool rep doesn't hurt. (See Seattle above.)

4. BUT - New York teams? Eh.
Even if , like me, you love New York Citay the city. It's like being from Michigan but sometimes secretly laughing when the U of M loses. There's something about seeing some much-deserved humility being tossed at certain people.

Exception to Rule: In the fall of 2001 I rooted for the Yanks. I wanted that town to have something to cheer about. And besides, they were playing Arizona. (See Rule #1.)

5. Is there a particular player you like? An interest in Sid Crosby is how this Detroiter started following the Penguins.

6. Does a player from one team have ties to your area? Point in their team's favor.

7. What are their uniforms like? I'm from the thea-tah -- interesting costumes count.
Exhibit A:

To sum it up:
2009 World Series.
Two Northeastern teams, both nice uniforms. I've never been to Philadelphia (hope to some day). Don't know much about their players.
Meanwhile, Derek Jeter is from Michigan. And ARod used to boink Madonna, who's from Michigan.

But sheesh, it's the DAMN YANKEES!

So, in conclusion: GO PHILLIES!!!

09 Fall TV Season & The Good Olde Days

2009-09-30T22:49:00.006-04:00

As I wrote elsewhere, I'm either A) A fussy/ bitter old curmudgeon or B) A high-minded aesthete/ cognoscente/ other fancy-schmancy French words.

But I'm just not feeling the love for any new shows this fall 2009.

Some people are raving about “Modern Family.” I sampled a few minutes of it and went away "meh." I liked the Robert Sawyer book that "Flash Forward" is based on. But I wasn't super-enthused about the series pilot (which bears little resemblance to the novel anyway).

I saw Community's pilot during a special Facebook promotion weeks ago - also underwhelmed. (Although this week's preview did give me an LOL moment.)

Meanwhile, though, my affection for Amy Poehler, and now some of the other characters on Parks and Rec has made me stick with that show - despite the fact I'm not a fan of the Office-style of dry humor or of mockumentaries. (And I’m looking forward to 30R & Better Off Ted’s returns, natch.)

Speaking of P & R/ The Office, I can remember in a screenwriting class years ago being told flashbacks were a no-no. Then sitcoms did it for laughs and LOST did it for intensive backstory (or the occasional unintentional laugh?). And now mockumentaries AND flashbacks are the thing these days. But an old-fashioned part of my brain still says they’re both a lazy way of storytelling.

What I really have loved most in TV history were the hour-long hybrids like Moonlighting and Northern Exposure. (But thanks Sarah Palin for more recently ruining my vision of Alaska as a funky utopia.) What happened to those kind of shows? Oh yes, there’s still a lot of pretenders to that throne. But Castle? Desperate Housewives? Just lacking something for me.

I know - go write your own. And I certainly am working on my own projects. But it’s hard to come up with a sample script for a current series, hourlong, when you can’t quite jell with anything out there.

Waaah. Tiny violin. Shut up and write.

Yes, Someone Has Already Called It Saturday Night Dead

2009-09-28T12:49:00.024-04:00

SNL is one of the longest relationships I've ever had. We've grown up and are growing, um, older, together.

I'm old enough to recall my frustration over not being able to get the show in certain Michigan towns when it first when on.

To remember how truly different it was, and to have nearly worshipped some of the first, vaunted cast.

To remember the night the last of the OC walked off the stage and out the door together. To have corresponded with one of the early writers. To have owned probably the first book ever written about it.

And on through the decades - to have stuck with it in the Doumanian year. (My reward: Having seen the Charles Rocket incident live. Oh what a handsome, troubled man he was.)

Through all the years that are a blur now, of You look mahvelouses and Dieters, Ed Grimleys and Mangos, all the various incarnations of Clintons and Bushes. And I remember strongly how much I disliked the smug Spade/Sandler years. And any of the "stars" whose main claim to fame seems to be wildly laughing at the own sketches: Fallon, Thompson, etc.

Like so many others, I refocused on the show during the '08 elections. Hulu, I'm about 100 of those hits for the Palin rap and Fey/Poehler cold opens.

But then SaturdayNight Live lost steam again the minute those two ladies were back out the door. But I let forth another burst of snarks when Michaela Watkins was fired. She just showed promise, true enough, but that was more than what half the curernt cast was actually delivering.

So SNL, I kvetch 'cos I care. And while I'm kvetching, I can't help also snarking about us snarkers. So to reprint what I said on Gawker (http://tinyurl.com/ycfjppv)
here's the shorthand guide for everything we have to say (and say and say again) about SNL:

Standardized Responses for SNL Threads.
1. SNL is still on?
2. I might have to watch this SNL sometime.
3. SNL hasn't been funny since _____ (insert name) was president.
4. The Tina Fey era was the (Choose one:) Best/ Worst.
5. (Canadians/Brits/Aussies:) You Americans can't say Fuck on the telly?
6. (Me, other Oldes:) Jane Curtin/ Dan Aykroyd - now there was a Weekend Update.
7. And I remember when Charles Rocket said Fuck. I got on my Commodore computer and typed a letter about it.

Into the Deep End

2009-09-17T21:51:00.002-04:00

Think of it. All those thousands of posts under dozens of screennames. Usenet and L-ists, message boards and forums, e-mails and other people's blogs and tweets. All the time surfing and posting for free when I used to be writing professionally, sometimes for money. (But hey, some markets were drying up anyway. Lots of markets.)

And now finally, this. A place of my own. (Not counting a couple of simple practice websites.)

And yet, still hesitant? Yes I am. No, it's not like I have a big following. Here or anywhere. It's not like they're clamoring for this. Yet. (Actually, I just like to use the word clamoring.)

So why so concerned over what few words I toss into the ether? Because of that word - Yet. With that smidgen of ego that remains, despite all the downtimes there have been, one elfin corner of my brain whispers, "You still could be famous, sometime, still might have people hunting down this 'early' work someday. And what will THEY think?"

(And well again, OK, my real "early work" was typewritten, I shit you not. Let me tell you about correction tape, kiddies. Or having to retype the whole goddamn page. And then that screws up the next one. And on and on.

THAT early work that resides still in boxes at my mother's home. [And how hard is it, five months after he's gone, to not call it my mom and dad's house.] Or more recent boxes in the other room, waiting for a move.)

At any rate, that thought - the fear not that I won't be read, but that I will, brings out the inner Editor, or maybe just the part of me that will always be the shy teenager/ young adult. The one who doesn't want to do anything because it might be wrong, it might not be Perfect, it might be - whatever. The one who was so consumed by these fears she flipped from full-time musician and part-time writer to vice-versa, thanks to Stage Fright.

Yep, I was self-conscious about even starting this damn little blog.

Then why all the babbling above? Because while I was heating up the eggroll and wondering/ worrying what great words to pronounce (Fourscore and seven years ago, It was the best of times and the worst of times, and In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth all having been taken already) I remembered for the millionth time the simple rule I've sometimes obeyed, more often ignored at my peril: Just effin' do it.

Stop thinking and start writing. Stop tuning and start playing. Stop the warmup and start the competition.

Stream of consciousness, grocery list, a letter to your high school crush that you'll never send. Whatever gets you going, just start writing.

And before I knew it, Future Reader who is researching the more obscure works of Amy Parrent - here was my first blog entry. Here.