Wednesday, February 25, 2009

RIP Howard Zieff

It's the rare 1 minute TV ad that's truly memorable almost 40 years later. Howard Zieff starred -- yes, starred -- in the Alka-Selzter "Spicy Meatball" commercial, which is right up there with the Mean Joe Green Coke spot, as far as I'm concerned.



After this, he went on to direct movies, including Private Benjamin. I got more enjoyment from Mr. Zieff than I ever knew.

Monday, February 16, 2009

A Sig Line

Back in the days when I was a regular poster on Usenet forums, I used to read and write posts with pithy or humorous signatures, "sig lines." Lisa and I first became friends through the alt.books.dean-koontz forum, a couple of years before we ever met in person, and it's a joke between us to take some absurd statement and say, "I feel a sig line coming on."

This morning, Lisa was cleaning out a closet in one of the spare bedrooms, and our cat Blazer snuck in when I opened the bedroom door to ask her something. If he were allowed free run of the room, Blazer would end up in closed into some nook or cranny at the back of the closet and mewling pitifully in the dark for hours, until we finally managed to figure where he was and let him out. It's happened before.

I picked him up and carried him out into the hall. Lisa followed and handed me a nice pair of scissors to put in a utility drawer. I hugged her, and out of my mouth popped, "I have a cat, a pair of scissors, and a hot woman." She said, "The hot woman's leaving the room before you figure out what you're going to do with them." I replied, "I feel a sig line coming on."

It's probably a good thing the thought went no farther.

When Song Titles Collide

One morning a while back, as Lisa and I were talking before getting out of bed, two country song titles collided in my mind, and this is what crawled out of the wreckage:

If I Said You had a Beautiful Body, Would You Dropkick Me, Jesus, Through the Goalposts of Life?

Ya think?

Courtesy of xkcd:

Monday, February 9, 2009

The Songs Transcendant

Have you ever heard a song that, on your first listen, left you rapt, somewhere else, lost in a moment where time itself halted? Where a conduit opened between you and Truth? I have, twice.

Both times have happened in the last decade, after I turned 40. The number itself is not, I believe, significant; what is meaningful is that I finally had enough experience at life to realize what I was hearing. This probably means that there were other times that I missed such an experience, but what of that? It's the times I was aware of that are of consequence, not the ones I wasn't.

Each song was marked by an uncommon richness of compassion, imagery, and melody; they're each a draught of fine vintage, not to be cavalierly decanted.

The first one was Alan Jackson's stunning composition Where Were You (When The World Stopped Turning). I saw his first public performance of the song at the 2001 CMA Awards, and I knew that we had begun healing from our national trauma of 9/11. Yes, that's a lot to pile on a five minute song, but it's sturdy enough to bear up under the load.

The second one was Live Like You Were Dying. Tim McGraw didn't write this story of how precious life becomes when it's at risk of slipping away, but he owns it. This song has a special resonance with Lisa and I, as both of our mothers are cancer survivors. It also has a dangerous side; that first time I heard it and was whisked away for an infinite moment, I was driving on Battleground Avenue here in Greensboro. My automatic pilot must've been in a state of grace, as I and the drivers I passed all survived my musical fugue.

Both AJ and Tim are consistent entertainers, have been for 20 and 15 years respectively. With these songs, they became artists of enduring stature, and we have been uplifted along with them.

Thoughts on the Grammies


  • I find Robert Plant and Alison Krauss' Album of the Year win most pleasing.

  • Their other wins were equally gratifying. I had my doubts that they would beat Coldplay in the categories where they went head-to-head.

  • Sugarland's win for Best Country Performance for a Group or Duo for Stay is vexing to me. The song has a beautiful melody, and Jennifer Nettles always delivers it with exquisite emotion. My problem with it is the subject matter, despite country's tradition of cheating songs; I was cheated on, and I absolutely do not give a shit about the other man/woman's feelings.

  • Paul McCartney and B.B. King had fantastic energy in their performances. Let's hear it for the old guys!

  • Who let the president of NARAS out of the asylum? He did not seriously propose a "Secretary of the Arts" for President Obama's cabinet, did he? Government oversight of the arts, anyone? Anyone?

Saturday, February 7, 2009

This is a Surprise, and not a Good One

Sports Illustrated has reported today on their website that Alex Rodriguez tested positive for steroids during 2003, the year he won his first American League MVP award. He's a supremely talented baseball player who plays a truly bush league game that deserves a lot of contempt, but I would've bet good money that he wasn't chemically enhanced.

Crap.

Taken


Taken stars Liam Neeson as retired CIA "preventer" Brian Mills, one who kept bad things from happening. He was a dedicated operative who lost his marriage and poisoned his relationship with his 17 year old daughter Kim (Maggie Grace, who played Shannon on Lost). He has retired and moved to Los Angeles to try to have a relationship with her, but it's really rocky.

Since Kim is legally a minor, she has to get Brian's signed permission on a legal document to leave the country when she wants to take month-long Parisian vacation with her 19 year old best friend Amanda. Because of his background, he's reluctant to say yes, but he finally does. With conditions - that she takes an international cell phone programmed with his number. That she calls when her flight lands at Orly Airport. That she call him every night. And that he take her to LAX. Of course, she agrees.

At the airport, Kim rushes in to find Amanda while Brian unloads and trundles her luggage. As he's doing this, he finds a map of Europe in her wide-open humongous purse; there are multiple cities circled throughout the continent, with a date beside the city. His ex arrives in a limo at this point, and when he asks her if she knew what this is, she tells him that Kim and Amanda are following U2 on several dates of a European tour.

And why wasn't he told? Because Kim can't live with his restrictions and feels she has to lie to get a measure of freedom to do a normal teen "thing", which her mother agrees with, so that Kim can begin to get a measure of the "real world". The retirement thing is really hitting a rocky patch.

Kim and Amanda meet Peter when they arrive in Paris and are waiting on a taxi to take them to a condo owned by some on Amanda's cousins. Unfortunately for the girls, Peter is a spotter for a gang of expatriate Albanian who kidnap such young women and sells them into the sex trade.

Kim and Brian are talking on the phone, after she forgot to call on the agreed schedule, when the kidnappers break into the condo and grab Amanda. Brian coaches Kim into a taking a momentary hiding place, dropping the phone on the floor, and yelling out everything she sees as she is dragged away.

One of the kidnappers picks up the phone; we hear only his breathing. Brian tells him that he has no money for a ransom, but he does have "a particular set of skills...that make me a nightmare for a man like you." If the kidnappers leave Kim, it's over; otherwise, Brian will track them down and kill them. The kidnapper says "Good luck" and hangs up.

The movie has, to this point, had a rather leisurely pace, building slowly to this confrontation. Now, the pace rockets faster and faster, with no let up from the building tension and suspense.

Brian Mills is hypercompetent, and he is willing to do anything necessary to recover his daughter, which has fatal consequences for everyone who gets in his way.

This story has a feel a lot like that of The Day of the Jackal, one of the true classics of the suspense thriller genre. Make sure that you are well rested before seeing Taken, as the sustained adrenaline rush will leave you well and truly wrung out.

RIP James Whitmore

James Whitmore passed away today at age 87. He appeared in many a TV western and had a memorable turn in The Shawshank Redemption, but will probably be remembered the longest for his one man portrayals of Will Rogers and, in one of the most accomplished bits of acting it has been my privilege to see, of Harry S. Truman in Give 'em Hell, Harry. Enjoy.

Harken Back to the Days of Old...

...back in January, when I last posted on TV. Last night's Battlestar Galactica did not disappoint. I'd say RIP for a couple of characters, but it doesn't fit. Even though they were fictional, they were evil, one by design, the other by character drift. So, burn in Hell Tom Zarek and Felix Gaetta, and good riddance.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

RIP Billy Powell

Lynyrd Skynyrd's keyboard player is with Ronnie Van Zant, Steve Gaines, and company again. Another Freebird remembered.

Super Bowl Thoughts

  • Sloppy, sloppy play, with all the penalties.
  • Low class of the Steelers to get hit with so many unsportsmanlike conduct penalties.
  • Al Michaels may be very knowledgeable about football, but he really sucks as an announcer. Really, what was that comment concerning Somalian pirates?
  • James Harrison, that was a lovely, lovely pick to end the first half. I don't think you ran the ball back 100 yards much faster than I could have.
  • The Pittsburgh defense played the 4th quarter like they wanted Arizona to win.
  • Both offenses played the last five minutes to win. That is what I want to see in my sports.
  • I was not at all disappointed with Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band at halftime.
  • Bottom line: Steelers 27, Cardinals 23.