Chancelucky

Digging to California in pif magazine

2012-01-03T10:22:00.000-08:00

Digging to California in Pif

Just thought I'd mention it.

Beverly Jackson's Loose Fish Chrnonicles Excerpted in E-chapbook

2011-12-15T12:34:00.000-08:00

http://echapbook.com/index.htm

I'm proud to announce the publication of an excerpt of Beverly Jackson's memoir in stories, "Loose Fish Chronicles" in the latest issue of e-chapbook. We really made an effort to take the E in echapbook seriously. Bev was kind enough to share personal photos, poetry, paintings, etc. that add yet another dimension to her strikingly honest account of being a bright-talented young woman in Greenwich Village in the early sixties.

If you like it, please share the link.

Review of Yiyun Li's Gold Boy Emerald Girl

2011-11-08T17:44:00.000-08:00

Now up at the Short Review

link

Lacuna: Cave Painting

2011-11-03T15:01:00.000-07:00

Lacuna: Cave Painting

The Art of Peace now up at the Writing Disorder

2011-10-03T10:44:00.000-07:00

One of my goofier fiction ventures is now available at the Writing Disorder.

The Art of Peace in the Writing Disorder

Apologies to Maxine Hong Kingston.

E-chapbook

2011-09-23T14:34:00.001-07:00

Please check out the newest edition of E-chapbook. It's an issue devoted to the theme of "Loss" and I had the privilege of serving as the fiction editor.

http://echapbook.com/stories/loss/index.html

The Americanzation of Sammy Tsai in the Emprise Review

2011-09-19T12:42:00.000-07:00

My story, the "Americanization of Sammy Tsai" is now up at the Emprise Review.

Article on First Person Present or Flashlight Voice

2011-08-03T17:24:00.001-07:00

I have a new article on First Person Present on McKenna Donovan's To Write Well site.

article link

The I-Story, An Owner’s Manual by Marko Fong

2011-06-23T14:26:00.000-07:00

The I-Story, An Owner’s Manual by Marko Fong

2011-02-12T11:50:00.000-08:00

Roy Kesey has released a new novel, Pacazo, through Dzanc and he's currently touring the US for 2 weeks to promote it. I had the chance to attend his reading recently.

Roy lives in Peru (his wife is a Peruvian diplomat), but he grew up north of San Francisco. He happened to be reading at the Healdsburg Literary Cafe (which spends most of its days not as a cafe but as a senior center) thanks to Stefanie Freele, another zoer. Anyway, I had the pleasure of seeing him read, sign, and be Roy Kesey. fwiw, he's warm (made me feel like an old friend who'd just never met him in person), witty (delivery is vaguely similar to Matthew Perry which Roy might consider an insult), and his wife is clearly not the only diplomat in his family.

The reading part was terrific btw. One of my private measures of other writers is my "could I do that?" scale. If I answer "No, not in a million years" it's someone with serious talent and the Thanksgiving-excertps from Pacazo were a good 7.5 on my "can I do that" version of the Richter Scale. The readout for a 7.5 says something like "mmmm, maybe I'll never be able to get there." It's about an American history professor working in Peru, but the excerpt was laugh out loud funny, profound, and heart-stoppingly precise when it needed to be.

There was this small town reading moment just before Roy's reading that I found even more fascinating. One of the tricks for getting a crowd in a small town is to include an open mike. It's not always clear if some of the readers are there for the open mike or the featured reader. There were something like 15 open mike folk (I had signed up but they cut it off before I got the chance) and I suspect a few came for that. After the intermission, the MC got up and gave Roy the following introduction, "I'd like to introduce Roy Kesey. He lives in Peru."

You grow up in Ukiah, go to high school there, publish in 80 journals, win an NEA, get included in BASS, do regular dispatches from China for Mcsweeney's, write four books, come back for a reading near your home town and that's the introduction? In her defense, Stefanie Freele was likely going to do the introduction but had an unforeseen commitment. It was a different thing, but it reminded me of the moment a woman asked Isabel Allende if she was related to the dictator? Like Isabel Allende, Roy responded with remarkable grace and tact (essentially just going on with the show and slipping a few biographical details into his patter, then mentioning what a great audience they were). Hence, yet another "Wow" I don't think I could do that moment for me.

During the question and answer, Roy wound up mentioning Zoetrope.com and shared his history on the site,something I didn't know. Althought he'd written his first book at age 4 (don't think I was reading at that age), he was still a fledgling writer about to turn 30 who hadn't published. He was also living in some distant part of Peru and his contact with other writers was limited to the internet. Zoetrope became his source of contact with other writers and his workshop and he mentioned that this is where he got better.

Anyway, Stefanie Freele lives near me. Roy grew up near me. I wouldn't have met either of them had I not popped into Zoetrope.com one day and gotten accused of being DH Henry. I was at an in person reading of an extremely talented writer who was mysteriously acting like he knew me. It was just an extension of that community and one of the benefits of participating there.
I'm looking forward to reading and reviewing Pacazo in the meantime.

Steve McQueen The Life andLegend of a Hollywood Icon, Marshall Terrill (review)

2011-01-26T15:49:00.000-08:00

Marshall Terrill has written four, arguably five, books about one man, Steve McQueen. After reading Terrill’s definitive biography, Steve McQueen, the Life and Legacy of a Hollywood Icon (Triumph Books), I think I understand the obsession. Terrill points out repeatedly that McQueen was a zen presence on screen, an actor who used silence and stillness to project. From Magnificent Seven through Bullitt, McQueen’s biggest scenes are surprisingly free of dialogue. For instance, in the Great Escape he’s mostly seen throwing a baseball against the wall in solitary and best remembered for a motorcycle jump that was actually carried out by a stunt man. In Tom Horn, he meticulously aimed an impossibly big rifle. In Bullitt, it was the car chase, again a double did the actual driving stunts. Still, you remember Steve McQueen, “The king of cool”, commanding the screen by projecting so much with so few words and so little movement.

I suspect that Marshall Terrill is not the only person who’s wanted to solve the question of just what was so clearly boiling under McQueen's silent surface. Life and Legacy is about as well researched a movie star biography as I’ve read. Terrill goes through court records, property records, finds forgotten acquaintances, and even turned up a Mcqueen half-sister who once tried to get into the movies herself. For Mcqueen fanatics, there are any number of nuggets from the story of Mcqueen’s absent father who turned out to be a merchant seaman rather than the aviator that Mcqueen mythologized him to be to the amazing fact that the Hollywood rebel liked to watch the Love Boat with his third wife, Barbara Minty, and preferred the Bee Gees to the Rolling Stones. Terrill goes so far as to enlist psychologist and former Turtles’ drummer, Peter O. Whitmer, in analyzing Mcqueen’s family and early years. I’m not sure it takes a psychologist to figure out that a boy who never knew his father and who’s mother abandoned him literally and psychologically multiple times might have an attachment disorder, but it suggests how determined Terrill was to pick up additional insight about his subject.

Terrill also portrays both the time and the way McQueen’s image was both a product of and helped to shape his time. He appeared in Hollywood in the late fifties right towards the end of the studio era when young actors dreamed of being the next Brando or Dean. He came to embody rebellion and cool in the late sixties and early seventies when his career flourished as he bridged the Hollywood transition from Movie Stars as leading men to actors like Dustin Hoffman (one of his more famous roles was in Papillon opposite Hoffman) by embodying the anti-hero that the politics of the day seemed to demand. McQueen died at fifty in 1978 just before the video age and after slow sad battle with cancer. McQueen's death marked the rise of tabloid celebrity where the public alternately demanded and was revulsed by every lurid detail of the actor’s search for a cure and eventual death as reported in the tabloids.

In addition, Terrill ably delivers the basics of a Hollywood biography. In chronological order, he details all the behind the scenes happenings of all of McQueen’s movies including the Blob, his tv show "Wanted Dead or Alive", the almost never released Enemy of the People, and the disaster of Le Mans, the self-prodcued movie that almost killed his career and wiped out his production company. Terrill has endless stories about McQueen’s career long habit of jockeying or competing with his fellow actors for the attention of the camera and the endless mind games, stunts, etc. that came with that. Even more essential to Hollywood biography, Terrill has the tidbits of McQueen’s complicated romantic life. We get beginning to end accounts of all three wives- Neile Adams (in many ways the unsung heroine of the book who started out as a bigger star than Mcqueen), Ali Mcgraw (his best known romance with a co-star. The gossip attracted so much attention that it made the Getaway into a huge hit), and Barbara Minty (the much younger wife who saw him through his last days). In addition and even better, Terrill provides details of seemingly dozens of other McQueen dalliances before, during, and after his marriages. Perhaps the most surprising is Junior Bonner co-star, Barbara Leigh, who dated Mcqueen and Elvis at the same time and who claims to have aborted Mcqueen’s child (Terrell helped to ghost her book length account of the romances). One of the fascinating contradictions in Mcqueen’s life was that he was a dutiful and loving father even while being unfaithful to his children's mother and indulging in serious substance abuse.

If there is one shortcoming to Life and Legend of a Hollywood Icon it's that Terrill is something of a workmanlike writer. Much of that is because he worked so successfully at seemingly picking up and including every detail of McQueen’s life.I suspect the bio makes for better reading for someone who may already be a fan. In fact,it’s mandatory reading for anyone who considers himself or herself a McQueen fan. I happen to be one. In reading the book, I realized that my parents were too. As a child, they took me to virtually every one of his movies. I still remember waiting in line for the Sand Pebbles and the scene where he taught Mako how to box. The part that maybe doesn’t come across as well, is Terrill’s capacity to capture the power of Mcqueen's iconic scenes themselves. For instance, Terrill has every bit of trivia about the big motorcycle jump in the Great Escape and the Chess scene with Faye Dunaway in Thomas Crown, but he doesn’t describe either scene with the sort of poetry that might draw in somebody learning about the actor for the first time by making the reader feel its inherent magic. Maybe that’s what Terrill's three other McQueen books are for?

In any case this is the definitive biography of Steve McQueen and it's a great read for anyone who misses the Hollywood where the movies didn’t go to video weeks later and the actors were as big as the screens in pre-multiplex theaters.

chancelucky

Go Giants!

2010-11-01T19:37:00.000-07:00

I was born in 1955, one year after the than New York Giants beat the Indians n the World Series. I went to my first major league game in 1963, the year after the Giants lost in game 7 to the Yankees. I was home with my family in 1989 when the lights went out and the walls shook and the Giants lost two games around an earthquake. I watched Scott Spezio hit a 3 run home run in 2002.

In my life, I've seen a man land on the moon, the election of a black president, and now the Giants win the world series. Of the three, I think the Giants felt the least likely

Imitation of Life

2010-08-03T16:58:00.001-07:00

Up at Copperfield Review.

Battleship (fiction)

2010-06-04T18:26:00.000-07:00

Story is posted at Little Pink Shack, scroll down some for the story.

chancelucky

Buddha 1-Jesus 0

2010-04-09T17:42:00.000-07:00

It’s only been two rounds of the Masters, but it’s hard to say that God appears to be all that mad at Tiger Woods. I suppose he could still be hit by lighting either actually or metaphorically rounding Amen Corner, but it’s pretty clear that Tiger, kinky adulterer or not, can still play golf very well under pressure.

I’m not saying he’s a great guy, but we do need some perspective. Tiger Woods is probably not the only big time athlete who’s committed adultery. I just think we should stop talking as if he is and that no other golfers, hockey players, basketball players, husbands of Sandra Bullock, ever do this sort of thing.

That said, if there’s one thing I admire about Tiger’s handling of the aftermath of the golf club in the night incident, it’s that he didn’t go the Jesus route. Virtually everyone who gets into this sort of trouble I can think of does the Jesus thing in their public apology. Whether they spend state money to visit a mistress in Argentina, had oral sex with a 15 year old country singer between steroid injections in some major league clubhouse, or did bad things with a male masseuse and drugs in Denver, they invoke the Christian God as part of their path to public forgiveness. Tiger didn’t go there and good for him. I mean even Bill Clinton (maybe even's the wrong word) did the Jesus thing after Monica.

I don’t know how serious a Buddhist Tiger Woods really is, but it looks like that Buddha has got his back for now at least at Augusta National. I figure if Tiger manages to win the Masters (a pretty incredible athletic feat regardless of how you feel about him and what he did) this weekend, the zen meditation session near you will suddenly be full of all these guys in checked pants and ugly sweaters. The Nike swoosh looks a bit Buddhist to me, I’m sure someone will figure out a marketing tie-in.

Even if I can’t exactly root for Tiger for a while, I’m rooting for Buddha this weekend. Actually, I’m not sure Buddha would approve of that sort of thing. Because it's such an incredible violation of a Bhuddist perspective about any single famous athlete's real place in the greater scheme of things, no good Buddhist would go there and that’s exactly my point. Surely, if Jesus really did watch over this stuff, the guy would have missed the cut. Look, I'm fne with people believing in Jesus, but every time someone hides behind him it makes me suspicious. Go text message that, why don't you.

The GILF Pas

2010-03-30T10:10:00.000-07:00

My cousin’s son was playing master of ceremonies for his sister’s wedding. In a bow to Chinese custom, he was introducing all the members of the family and the wedding party. To liven it up, he likes to say a few words about each person he introduces. Some of the mini-bios worked better than others, but it all crashed when he got to his 80+ year old great aunt. He started by commenting on how good she looked for her age, a nice enough thing but not completely safe ground with seniors. He then began to ad lib, “Instead of a cougar, she’s a panther. She’s not just a panther, she’s a GILF.”

If you’ve been hiding under a Walkman and don’t Twitter, facebook, or HDTV, GILF is a variant of MILF (mom I’d like to F*%$). It’s John Cho’s fault. In the first American Pie movie, John Cho’s character sees a picture of Stiffler’s mother (Jennifer Coolidge) and proclaims her a MILF. While it’s not the most tasteful phrase ever invented, it’s gone reasonably mainstream. You wouldn’t hear President Obama using it, but you might hear Joe Biden say it accidentally. In fact, Sarah Palin was once referred to in the press as a GILF, for Governor I’d like to F*%$ ,(count me out on that one). Technically, she now qualifies as the other kind of GILF because she’s now a grandmother.

I would say that there’s arguably sort of a fuzzy line about using the phrase “MILF” in public. That is if you use it randomly with people you don’t know. For eighty year old actual blood relatives, I suspect the line’s pretty clear with GILF. There were probably a certain number of folk at the wedding dinner who missed the reference quite possibly including the relative in question. There were probably a bunch of us who caught it and appreciated all the different ways it was inappropriate.

I think one of the differences about Asian manners is that things just moved on. A couple mouths dropped open, but it struck me that those who did catch how weird it was figured that it wasn’t worth spoiling the evening for the bridal couple. I’m not sure what the groom’s side which wasn’t Asian thought.

Personally, I should think worse of my cousin’s son, but I have to confess something. I might have done the same sort of thing when I was more or less his age. Yikes!

Kung Pao Turkey

2010-03-02T10:35:00.000-08:00

My story Kung Pao Turkey was recently published by Flashquake.

Walmart and John Grisham's Ford County

2009-11-05T15:12:00.000-08:00

Call it due diligence...Okay, my work is close to a Walmart so I went there on my lunch hour. I got into the mood by getting a quarter pounder from the in store McDonald's, read a copy of US Magazine to find out why the Bachelor dumped Melissa Rycroft, then went to find Ford County, John Grisham's short story collection 16.99. The store was pretty busy, but I was the only person in the book section there.

It was in a shelf marked best sellers which was dominated by a huge quantity of copies of Twilight and its sequels (there were so many I thought the display itself was painted black and I suppose this supports my theories that Walmart really is a big box take on Vampirism). I did not, however find a collection of short stories by Stephanie Meyer. In terms of number of copies stocked, the Grisham was second to Twilight.

Ford County was directly in between a book by Danielle Steel and one by Nicholas Sparks. On the far right of the display, they had a book by Glenn Beck. On the far left, they had a book by Rush Limbaugh (just kidding about the Rush, there was no book from anyone left of Glenn Beck there). I live in the middle of Northern California btw where teabagging remains something you mix either with hot water or with another consenting adult so it was surprising to see the Beck book there as the lone political tome on the shelf.

Ford County was on the only book of short stories on the bestseller display. I did later find a copy of Olive Kitteredge on a distant bottom shelf sitting next to a single copy of Angela's Ashes. There were also multiple copies of Tuesdays with Mori and Mitch Ablom's complete opus of inspirational writing on a high shelf. Interestingly, no Harry Potter. My last visit to the book section of Wal Mart was all Harry Potter. btw I'm a big Harry Potter fan,even to the point that I would probably buy and read a JK Rowling literary novel.

No, I didn't read the whole book or even all of a story (that would be wrong). I did read the first pages of most of the seven stories, skimmed a bit, and checked the endings of the 7 stories. The stories are all really long, actually too long to be posted here even on novellas. While this isn't completely fair, I'm told that standard slushpile practice is to read the first page then make a quick decision.

I'd forgotten that Grisham is a wonderfully clear writer. You know where you are, what he's talking about, and you don't trip over any sentences, all with a minimum of effort. I think that serves him well in his thrillers. My one venture into a regular Grisham book, it struck me that he wasn't necessarily great at setting mood, evoking place, or finding imaginative ways to describe things (he's no Michael Chabon that way). Not a lot of metaphor, imagery, symbolism, etc. Anyway, this virtue also is something of a handicap to me because it leads to a sort of flatness of tone and the impression the insights aren't all that deep either. That may just be me, I notice that writers who see detail, make the language sing, and know how to cast shadows with their description and bring out ambiguities also often have deeper insights.

He tosses in some Southern Grotesque, on page one he tells us that someone's mom is 400 pounds (that one may be American normal or at least fast food normal these days vs. Flannery O'connor grotesque though) and there are similar details about the good old boy protagonists who wind up at a strip club instead of donating blood for their friend.

I don't think it was length alone that kept these stories out of the New Yorker. They may, however, be perfectly enjoyable stories. I'd have to read them all the way through to know that. There's definitely more to a story than style and voice and those things might be in those stories. Still, when I think Ford and short stories, I'll probably think of Richard rather than Ford County.

That said, I'd love to get my own book into Walmart someday. My guess is they sell a lot of books.

chancelucky

The Second Chancelucky in Line

2009-11-03T11:31:00.000-08:00

I’ve been reading a lot of Haruki Murakami lately and enjoying it. I’m also worried that it’s starting to affect my regular life. As I’ve mentioned, I write fiction some times when I’m not blogging. Judging from the last few months, I must have been writing a lot of fiction :}. I certainly haven’t been blogging.

Anyway, a couple months ago I was looking to see what the deadline for the University of Iowa’s Short Story Collection competition happened to be this year. I’d entered the year before, but I knew that I didn’t have much of a chance. I used the competition more as an opportunity to put together something that looked like a collection than a serious run at winning it. I opened the web page and much to my shock the winner was Kathryn Ma, someone I actually knew. As it happens, Kathryn went to both the same college and graduate school that I did. We weren’t good friends, but we certainly knew one another. She’s a terrific writer and very deserving. One of the shocks was that I had no idea that she wrote at all. I later learned that she didn’t start until she was 40.

Had someone told me that the winner of the Iowa contest would be a Chinese-American writer who set stories in Northern California and the same writer had gone to school x and school y at such and such a time, I would have started celebrating. Certainly, that could only have been me. Slightly less odd, the judge for the contest was Curtis Sittenfeld (American Wife) who went to the same high school I did and attended the same college that Kathryn and I went to though ten years later. After the publication (part of the prize) of All That Work and Still No Boys (Kathryn’s collection), I sent her an e-mail through Facebook and decided to go to one of her readings in Berkeley. I’ve been to any number of readings by authors, but I don’t know that I’d ever seen anyone who had prepared quite as well as Kathryn. She thanked the owners of Mrs. Dalloway’s , the bookstore/garden supply store hosting the reading, delivered a brief-engaging talk about her history as a fiction writer, read a selection from the book that she timed out at exactly 8 minutes (I assume that’s an ideal length somehow), and answered questions with poise and charm for the 30 or so people there.

I bought a copy of her book then got in line to have her sign it. After a minute of standing in line, a younger Asian man inadvertently stepped in front of me. Eventually, he turned around and I think it dawned on me that he’d cut in front of me and he offered to switch places. I told him not to worry about it. We waited our turn, then he came up to Kathryn and she said, “Who do I make this out to?”

The guy says “Sign it to Chants Lucky.”

My eyes-widened and I imagined the books flying off the shelves and rearranging in odd patterns.

Kathryn says, “Oh, you’re Chants Lucky. Thanks for your e-mail.”

“The guy finishes his visit and turns to leave, but I get to say, “Is your name really Chance Lucky?”

He nods then takes off.

My turn comes up and I tell Kathryn, “You’re not going to believe this, but I’m Chancelucky. You know we went to X and Y together.”

Kathryn smiles and acts like this happens a lot. We catch up a bit in the way that 2 people who barely remember one another might. She signs my book and says, “Ah yes, Chance Lucky with two C’s right?”

I compliment her on her memory (it does make me feel a bit better, end the visit since there are several people behind me in line several of whom may also have names Chants Lucky, Ciance Lucky, Chans Lucky, Chentz Lucky.

As my friend and I left the bookstore, it occurred to me that I should have stopped Chants Lucky to get his story. I would then have learned a bit more about alternate universes etc. and maybe gotten published in some journal of theoretical physics for Star Trek fans who also read Murakami. I didn’t. Maybe,I was afraid of the possible anti-matter matter explosion from a Chance encounter of this kind.

Instead, maybe I'm fated to stay the second Chance Lucky waiting in line to talk to Kathryn Ma. It may be all that's holding the cosmos as we know it in place.
chancelucky

Thought I'd mention it

2009-10-21T17:23:00.000-07:00

My story Tears for the River God was nominated by Grey Sparrow Journal for a Pushcart prize. I'd like to thank both Diane Smith (the founder of the journal) and Sue Haigh the fiction editor for that edition.

Cave Painting (fiction)

2009-10-15T14:44:00.000-07:00

Medici chapel,

Story appears in the current issue of Lacuna Journal.

Fred Plotkin's Amazon page. He knows way more about this stuff than I do.

chancelucky

National Defense University on the Iraq War

Grand Slam

2009-09-01T11:07:00.001-07:00

Two weeks ago, a work friend gave me two tickets for the Giants-Rockies game. It turned out to be an important late season game, the first in many years in San Francisco. After blowing a three run lead in the fourteenth inning last Monday to fall four games behind in the wild card race to the Rockies, the Giants had gotten within a game by going 4-1 at home. I invited a friend who got me to my last major league game three years ago to see the A’s and we were all set to watch Matt Cain, arguably the best pitcher in the league this year, put away the Rockies.

We got to our seats in the deep right field bleachers midway through the Star Spangled Banner and I found myself next to a seven or eight year old boy, his older sister, and their dad who was keeping score with an old-fashioned scorebook. Virtually everyone around us had some sort of Stanford paraphernalia on. The current Giants management is very good at family promotions. They have little kids announce the hitters. They let little kids ride in the golf cart with a mascot who circles the stadium and throws t-shirts into the crowd. They show little kids cheering on the Jumbotron. They have a t-ball park near the Coke bottle that’s a replica of ATT park, so really little kids can pretend to play baseball. It’s a simple idea, get the kids addicted. On the other hand, it’s about forty bucks a ticket or more. If you go with the family to a Giants game, you’re looking at a three hundred dollar outing.

For many years, I’ve mostly noticed how any children near me at baseball games are mostly interested in the vendors and hardly look at the game. About ten years ago, we went with a friend and his son who made it through maybe six innings, whined every time someone was selling soda or ice cream, and who may or may not have known the score of the game at any given point. I’m just not that on sitting next to kids at baseball games. I did take my daughter once a few years ago, but she’s my kid so there really wasn’t anything she could have done wrong and unlike me she didn’t turn into a baseball fan.

Anyway, this kid had the garlic fries, the licorice, etc. and I was all set to be annoyed particularly since the game started badly. Cain went 0-2 on the first hitter then walked him. The guy stole second base, went to third on a ground ball, then Tulowitzki doubled off the centerfield fence. In turn, the Giants spent the next three innings popping up the first pitch. I think the Rockies starter went 3 scoreless innings on 22 pitches. Cain steadied some and the Giants got a sacrifice fly from Schierholz to tie the game in the fourth. The kid next to me stands up and cheers the fly ball. In the meantime, his dad is quietly marking things in the scorebook and his older sister, who looks like Lyndsay Lohan when Lyndsay Lohan was a cute kid, is explaining things to him like how hit and runs work and why you’d intentionally walk a number 8 hitter. More impressive, the boy is listening the whole time and hasn’t gotten up to go to the bathroom repeatedly.

It occurs to me that I was his age when I saw my first baseball game at Candlestick Park in 1963, the day after Marichal and Spahn went 16 innings in a 1-0 night game there won on a Willie Mays home run. My dad used to tell me that the moment I saw the big green field, my face lit up and that he knew right then that I’d always be a baseball fan. Of course, I stayed up the entire night before to listen to the Marichal-Spahn duel at age 7, so it was already sort of a no-brainer. We didn’t have video games then or the internet, so listening to baseball on the radio was one of the few kid friendly media of the time. Btw, my wife and I love Mad Men, but how is it that none of those people are baseball fans? I get that Don Draper wouldn’t care, but no one in that office even makes Mets jokes.

I look at the boy next to me and realize that he’s just like me only he wasn’t nerdy enough to bring a baseball glove to the park just in case he got found by a really-really long home run. Also forty plus years ago, I don’t know that he’d have had an older sister explaining the nuances of the game to him though my mother did sometimes take me to Giants games without my dad. One time I had a 102 temperature and she took me to a night game at Candlestick just because Sandy Koufax (my favorite player- I know that’s treason) was pitching. Koufax was left-handed like me and he was Jewish which back then was as close as any star athletes got to being Chinese until Masanori Murakami got signed by the Giants the next year. Anyway, when Koufax pitched against the Giants, I’d secretly root for the Dodgers, something that ended a couple years later when Koufax and Marichal faced off and Marichal hit Roseboro with the bat. My parents and I were far up the left field line that day. Dad and I went to the stadium the night before to get tickets.

So the Giants tied the game 1-1 in the fourth and I’m happy that the kids around me are actually into the game. Cain then comes out for the fifth and gives up 800 feet worth of back to back homers to Helton and Tulowitzki, 3-1 Rockies. A couple innings later it’s 5-2 Rockies. Giants get men on second and third with no outs and somehow don’t score a run. They’re best pitcher didn’t have it and everyone knows this year’s Giants can’t hit.

Somehow, the Giants get a double, a walk, and a hit by pitch to load the bases, but then somehow make two outs. Somewhat disappointing free agent, Edgar Renteria, comes up and I turn to my friend and say “He’s actually one of the best hitters with men on base in the majors.” It’s just one of those weird things that stuck in my head a few months ago.
Edgar Renteria actually has been one of the better hitting shortstops in baseball for many years, but he’s not exactly a household name. Besides, once you sign with the Giants you lose thirty points off your batting average. In this case he came here as a .288 hitter and has been at .259.

The guy takes a pitch from Rafael Betancort, there’s that sound of wood on ball, and the whole park is standing and screaming except the fat guy in the Tulowitzki jersey a couple rows away from us. Renteria’s ball climbs into the lower part of the left field bleachers just inside the foul line. A disappointing game suddenly turns into the most exciting sports event I’ve seen in years. Franklin Morales went from being the reliever who got two strikeouts with two on in the last inning to the bum who loaded the bases and set up the grand slam. Renteria went from sort of disappointing free agent to indelible Giants memory a la Rob Pruitt ( Iwas there) and Brian Johnson and the Giants suddenly became serious playoff contenders going into September. I figure if this can happen this suddenly at ATT park, maybe the same thing can happen with the economy and universal affordable health care.

An inning later, the Giants load the bases but still have just a one run lead and a bunch of their own relievers not looking terribly effective. The manager sends Ryan Rollinger, a shortstop who has never had a hit in the majors, to pinch hit. He doubles and the crowd goes almost as wild as they did for Renteria. The little boy next to me is jumping around and screaming his head off.

The week started with the Giants losing to the Rockies on a grand slam in the 14th. It ends with the Giants winning on a grand slam in the 7th. I got to go to a baseball game with an old friend. You know those people you don’t see for three years and you do and you just start talking again like no time has passed. I see this little boy who makes me remember how I became a baseball fan, his very cool sister, and the dad with the pen and the paper scorebook. Even bigger, I got to see hope pulse through forty thousand people all at the same moment. It’s a trivial thing, but it’s not. Hope’s been in short supply lately and baseball was one of those things that held America together the last time things were this scary.

Funny thing to suddenly remember what it’s like to be a fan.

chancelucky

A Cross Thief?

2009-08-18T12:23:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, Belle, our four year old Sheltie, was hit by our new neighbor’s truck late at night. The dog was walking across the street and apparently the neighbor didn’t see her. My wife was very attached to Belle at least partly because our youngest left for college back East about a year ago. To note the passing of our dog, she put up a white wooden cross in a flower pot near the front of our driveway. It’s not a large cross. She made it from strips of leftover floor molding from our garage and painted it herself.

Two days later, she came out to the front yard early in the morning to discover that the cross was missing. Nothing else in our yard was disturbed. Shortly after that, my wife made a second cross, stuck it in the same flower pot, attached a pair of notes explaining that they were for our dog near the new white cross and you guessed it some time last night (3 days later), the cross was stolen again. My wife thinks its someone who hates Christian symbols. I think it’s our crazy rageaholic neighbor who kidnapped our other dog once and demanded two thousand dollars in ransom. One of my colleagues thinks it’s the neighbor who happened to run the dog over. I haven’t eliminated the possibility that something supernatural is going on as well. One of the oddities is that we haven’t found any signs of the stolen crosses nearby.

I’d assume that it is someone who lives near us. It also seems to be happening very early in the morning or very late at night. A few people have suggested installing a video security camera. Mostly though, it just seems to be one of these thoughtlessly mean acts that’s compounded our sadness about losing our dog. I try to think the best of most everyone, but this is just one of those “Why would anyone be this cruel?”

In the meantime, my wife’s been getting cards, calls, and even flowers from other neighbors, friends, and relatives about Belle. It reminds me that there’s still a lot of kindness out there.
chancelucky

A Weekend from Hell

2009-08-10T13:56:00.000-07:00

I talked to my mother on my way home from work on Friday night and my stepdad and she were doing well. At 8:00 pm, she left a message saying that he’d had a stroke and that she was on the way to the hospital. We called my stepsisters, etc. They made it to the hospital okay and he did indeed have a stroke. They had caught it early, partly because he was able to tell my mother that he felt one coming on. 911 was right on time and the emergency room gave him an anti-coagulant to break up the blood clot very quickly. When we saw him the next day, my stepdad was in the emergency room. His speech was affected, but it wasn’t a strain to understand him. A couple times, he tried to scratch the right side of his face with his right hand. He’d bring his arm up, get within a couple inches, then switch over to his left hand.

For an 85 year old man, a stroke is a very serious matter, but this was pretty good as these things go. I have to say though that you don’t really know how it’s going to go for a while. They have gotten him to stand and he’s going home very soon.

The scarier thing is that my mother is 79. She came back to the hospital at seven in the morning. The nurse in the emergency room accidentally sent my mother to the wrong room where a man with my stepfather’s first name happened to be. He had a breathing mask on, but other than race looked completely different from my stepfather. My mother spent four hours tending to, comforting, and talking to the man in the mask. She was laughing about it as was my stepfather, but it’s scary. When we left that evening, I think we were at least as nervous about my mother as we are about my stepfather. Making matters worse, my mother couldn’t find her car in the parking garage that night. She wound up flagging down a group of three strangers who offered to take her keys to look for her car then call the third stranger who stayed with my mom to let her know they located the vehicle. Fortunately, they were honest folk.

I was very impressed with the level of medical care available for my stepfather. Some of the other stuff, I’m not so sure about like taking 10 hours to find him a room (they left him on a gurney the whole time). I’m also not sure about my mom being taken to the wrong room. Still, these episodes always make me think about how much is involved in providing any individual with health care. I can’t imagine having to make any of these decisions without it. It strikes me as barbaric that so many people in this country don’t have coverage.

Earlier in the day, I had played basketball just before we left for the hospital. I rarely shoot much in my games, but on a whim I took a shot from just inside half court on game point. It’s pretty much the opposite of smart basketball, but the ball went straight through the basket. I had thought that might be a sign of a good weekend. Instead, late yesterday after we’d had dinner with two of our friends, my wife decided to take Belle our Sheltie out for a walk after dark. Just before she could get the leash on the dog, Belle saw a couple kids across the street and ran towards them. A truck came up the street and hit Belle, apparently never saw her.

We put her in the back of our station wagon and tried to get her to the vet, but we both knew there probably was nothing that could be done. There’d been too much blood. After first leaving her with the vet for cremation, my wife decided that she wanted to bury the dog in our backyard, one of the dog’s favorite places. I wound up spending the first part of the morning digging a big hole in the yard until my wife returned with a cardboard coffin. I got a blister from the digging and as I sit here that blister feels strangely reassuring and I don't want it to go away for a while. One of the saddest moments of the morning came when Chance (8 years older than Belle) came up to the porch to eat. She kept looking towards Belle’s bowl wondering where her companion had gone. Lucky, Chance’s original companion, died two years ago.

It’s an understatement to say that my wife was attached to Belle. I used to tease her constantly and tell her that none of the rest of us liked Belle. She was a mischievous but very sweet dog. She stole a lamb gyros off the table from me once a couple years ago when I left the kitchen. She also used to run around in tight circles when she got excited. Of course, she also ate our daughter’s Ipod, several pairs of shoes, and a bunch of underwear (ickk). She also used to sneak onto the living room couch and sleep upside down, then when we’d caught her she’d pretend like nothing had happened. She was one of those dogs that always wanted to be near us physically, assuming she wasn’t trying to steal cat food. For some reason, she had an obsession with the cat food. I insisted it was because she wasn’t quite as bright as our cat who had learned to open both the front door and the cat food storage container and she had thought that it would make her smarter to eat like a cat.

Now that our kids are all out of the house and on the other coast, I think we saw Belle as the critter who’d keep us company in the meantime. It’s funny what you assume sometimes and how quickly things can change. I’ve seen so many sudden changes and all I know is that the practice doesn’t make you any better at getting through the rough ones.

I hope that Belle has moved on to some place where she is smarter than all the cats. They used to wrestle with one another in our living room. My stepdad started physical therapy today and my mom didn’t have any memory lapses when we talked. These are small things, but I’m grateful for them. My wife seems to be holding up well. I broke down crying last night after I came to bed and in the weird way things work, that seemed to make her feel better than anything I did to overtly comfort her. I just hope the next several weekends are better than this last one.
chancelucky

Henry Louis Gates and the Most Disliked Athletes

2009-08-02T13:46:00.000-07:00

Since we started saying President Obama, there’s been widespread sentiment that “race” as issue in American may be in our cultural rear window. For instance, a number of my progressive friends supported the firemen in the New Haven firefighter’s case, Ricci v. De Stefano simply because they supported the virtually inarguable position that at some point America needs to be a country where decisions are based on merit and not skin color. As a number of folk have pointed out, President Obama has had virtually perfect pitch on racial matters. Not many people folk noticed that his administration backed the fire department in the New Haven case on the little understood basis of an increasingly obscure notion in 14th amendment law, disparate impact.

A couple weeks ago, the media heated up over yet another cultural moment, Henry Louis Gates-gate. I’ve looked over the police report and my read was that Professor Gates overreacted. That said, it’s also true that a well-dressed 59 year old man trying to open a door in the middle of the afternoon with a pair of suitcases right next to him probably wouldn’t be enough of an incident to call 911 had the 59 year old man been a white or Asian Harvard professor. A lot of passerbys might have walked up to them and said something like “Is there a problem here?”

In fact, twenty plus years ago I was on the upper east side of Manhattan with my girlfriend one afternoon when we saw a young black man hacksawing a U-lock that held an expensive bicycle frame to a parking meter. Yes, our first reaction was that he might be stealing the bicycle, though it did seem like a peculiar thing to do in the middle of the day on a very busy street. Instead, the two of us decided to stand about eight feet away and watch him or let him know that we were watching before we did anything else.
After a couple minutes, the young man said calmly and politely “Yes, it is my bicycle.”

It was an embarrassing moment for us, because would we have suspected him of anything had he not been black? Well, arguably yeah! Wouldn’t it be reasonable to ask anyone with a hacksaw something like “This is your bicycle right?”

So with Henry Louis Gates, Officer Crowley is thinking if I got a 911 call about a man breaking into a house I’d ask anyone for his ID. Henry Louis Gates is thinking I’m Professor Gates god dammit, I teach at Harvard, this is Cambridge, I should be treated accordingly not like some potential burglar especially when this happens to be my own home. I imagine Officer Crowley could have determined easily enough that Henry Louis Gates lived at the address in question without an ID. Unfortunately, the rest is literally history.

The African-American president with the perfect pitch on race matter decided to stand up for America’s most famous black academic, one who endorsed Hillary Clinton no less. Unfortunately, he did so before he had all the facts. Similarly, Deval Patrick, the African-American governor of Massachussetts also jumped in to defend Professor Gates. Suddenly, it was arguably three of the most powerful African-American men going vs. some white Cambridge police officer who by virtually all accounts was just following procedure.

The moment breaks in the news as yet another example of how the race pendulum has swung too far and once again it takes the form of a well-connected black man vs. either police or firemen. For once, our ultra-cool President didn’t do the “cool thing”, he spoke too soon and it hurt him. While it was smart politics, I don’t know that the beer summit helped that much. The point to many Americans is that this well-connected black man was screaming “racism” when no one hit him, called him names, and bottom line the officer was actually just helping Henry Louis Gates protect his own property. The last time the public remembers the race card getting played like this, it was OJ.

To some, Gates-gate is supposed to be the cultural moment that puts an end to the race card, just like the New Haven firefighters case spells the end of affirmative action. The mantra is “See, we’re so far beyond that now. Black President, black governor, black Harvard professor. All within a lifetime of Emitt Till. Need I point out that all the people accused of bilking money for Emitt Till’s coffin were African-American?”

So, even I’m more or less down with that, but the same day as the White House beer summit, was it dark beer or light? I happen to seem the following seemingly unrelated story, a list of the most disliked athletes in America. Here are the top ten,

1. Michael Vick quarterback and dog abuser
2. Manny Ramirez slugger and performance-enhancing drug abuser
3. Alex Rodriguez slugger and performance-enhancing drug abuser and adulterer
4. Terrell Owens wide receiver and quarterback abuser
5. Kobe Bryant shooting guard and one-time accused rapist
6. Alan Iverson point guard with lots of tattoos who doesn’t come to practice
7. Isaiah Thomas basketball coach, sexual harasser, and really bad GM
8. Stephon Marbury point guard with a bad attitude
9. Nick Saban football coach with a big contract
10. John Mcenroe tennis player with a temper who last mattered about 25 years ago.

What’s the first thing I noticed about the Forbes list? How about the fact that the first eight names are all black and the only two white guys on the list arguably aren’t athletes at this point.
Kobe Bryant was acquitted btw. Does anyone even know that Ben Roethlisberger was recently accused of rape (he may well be innocent, but then so was Kobe). What’s your bet that the Steelers quarterback made the top 50 on that list? How about Roger Clemens who threw his wife under the bus by saying the HGH was hers? How about the hockey player who put a hit on someone? Or the various NASCAR drivers who have either gotten caught cheating (somehow that’s just part of the sport as opposed to steroids) or literally doing speed?

I’m not defending Michael Vick. I’m just wondering why the list of most disliked sports figures is so black in a time when we’ve allegedly gotten so far past race.

Let me mention the reason why President Obama and Governor Patrick might have been so quick to speak up on behalf of Professor Gates. I don’t know a single adult black male who hasn’t been stopped by the police in completely innocent circumstances. No, that’s not what happened to Henry Louis Gates that afternoon, but don’t let that convince you that it doesn’t happen anymore.
chancelucky

Visiting Harry Kim

2009-07-18T10:04:00.000-07:00

We went to San Diego for a memorial service for my wife’s older brother this week. He had served in the Coast Guard in the early seventies so my wife and her sisters arranged to have his ashes placed at a military cemetery that overlooks the harbor. I never got many chances to talk to my brother in law. He just wasn’t much of a talker, so I knew very little about his world which consisted of selling military surplus items and working swap meets. Other than that, he was a very good uncle who always showed up at all family gatherings and who always seemed to be available to help with his nieces and nephews who lived in Southern California.

We had a short memorial service, the military give you a little less than half an hour for a ceremony that included two full dress coast guardsmen who unroll a flag, fold it, present it to a family member and someone playing taps on a trumpet. Apparently, they do ten to fifteen services a day there so it’s actually someone’s job to move the services along so the next set of bereaved ones get their memorial service on time.

During the service, my sister in law told the story of Harry Kim. Harry Kim was an army specialist who died at the age of 20 in Vietnam in 1968. My brother-in-law never knew Harry Kim. He had only heard about him through one of his friends, someone who had served with him in Vietnam. Apparently, Harry Kim had gone out on a mission in place of the friend and that was Harry Kim’s last mission. The friend couldn’t bear to visit the grave. Since he was local, my brother in law took on the job of visiting Harry Kim’s gravesite regularly for the friend. Whenever he would visit, my brother in law would gather pine cones from a pine tree that shaded Harry Kim’s cemetery plot and send them to the friend who lived up in Northern California just to show him that someone had visited Harry’s grave and to give him something to literally hold onto.

At the end of the service, we went to visit Harry Kim’s gravesite to carry out the ritual one more time, though perhaps fittingly there were no pine cones to be found on the ground. I’m not sure we would have known who to send them to. Forty one years later, people 3 times removed were seeking out Harry Kim, a very young man who died thousands of miles from home.

A few years ago, my brother in law asked his sister to hold onto his high school leather jacket, an orange thing with leather sleeves and metal snap buttons. The sisters took turns wearing it and on it there was the year of his graduation. When Harry Kim died, my brother in law was still in high school.

It’s such an odd combination of small and big gestures that tie moments like this together. It’s a bit that I never knew about my brother in law, yet it’s something that will help me to remember him as the guy who always tried to be there in some small way for family and others.
chancelucky

My Day at Angel Island

2009-07-15T12:26:00.000-07:00

Because of confusion about times, I missed the ferry to Angel Island from Tiburon that had my mother and stepfather and their group of seniors from Sacramento on it. I left a message on my mother's cell phone, then realized that the Island might not have cell phone coverage. That and my mother is forgetting things like her cell phone from time to time. Angel Island's not very big, a few square miles. I think the majority of people who come there go to hike, bike, or picnic, but for more than thirty years the island was used as an immigration processing center for the west coast. It has a special place in Chinese-American history because this is where the Chinese Exclusion Act played out. Angel Island is currently controlled by the state park service and they’ve turned what remains of the old intake center into an “Immigration Memorial”.

I’m like a native New Yorker who somehow never went to the Statue of Liberty. I’m not sure how it happened, but this was my first time there. It’s also possible that I went once and totally forgot about it. They didn’t start making a big deal of Angel Island until the seventies when they re-discovered poetry carved into the wooden walls of the immigration center. At the time the poetry was written, the government saw it as grafitti and painted over all of it.

I spent my first forty five minutes on the island trying to find my mother and stepfather. I couldn’t find a map and naturally I walked in exactly the wrong direction, stopped for lunch, then walked towards the immigration center on the Eastern side of the island. My cell phone wasn’t working and I figured my best chance of finding them was by heading there. For most of the forty five minutes, I was convinced that I wasn’t going to find them.

I hadn’t exactly come prepared for a long hike, the first part of which was up stairs carved into the hill. I was wearing Crocs and it hadn’t occurred to me to bring a coat. I didn’t exactly feel like an immigrant longing to reunite with his family in America, but I got a vague hit of melancholy along those lines. I found the Immigration Center, took the self-guided tour. It wasn’t much. It’s a big room with facsimile’s of the very tight bunks used in the sleeping quarters, several posters, and then views of the poetry carved on the walls. The problem is that the poetry was painted over several times and it’s in Chinese. I don’t read Chinese. They spent 15 million dollars on the most recent rennovation, while it’s nice I’m not sure it showed.

After a few minutes of acting more interested in the poems than I really was (I know that sounds incredibly crass, but I was totally dependent on the translations which the park service provided via laminated placemats), I went to see if there was anything else to see beyond this early version of “blogging”. In the back area, I found a room used for presentations that I initially thought might be hosting my parents. Instead, there were about sixty Hispanic students sitting reasonably attentively to a presentation by female park ranger. She repeatedly tried to impress on them the parallels between Chinese exclusion and current debates about Hispanic immigration legal and illegal. At one point, one of the kids mentioned that the place looked like a park and maybe wasn’t so bad. The ranger parried with, but you can’t go anywhere or see anyone. Eventually, she mentioned that they would someday grow up to vote and they might have to vote on creating some modern equivalent of Angel Island.

The kids nodded. A teacher asked a question about Native Americans being granted citizenship and when that happened. The ranger didn’t know.

Was the ranger being the Sonia Sotomayor of the park service by sliding into political advocacy? The thought crossed my mind, but it also strikes me that certain historical events speak for themselves. I’m not sure what you’re supposed to say about the slave quarters at Mount Vernon, Tule Lake, the site of the Haymarket Massacre, Wounded Knee. Of course, these were horrible things and we have memorials in these places to remind us that the past was not perfect and that we’re supposed to be beyond such moments. What are you supposed to say as a tour guide at say Dachau? Well this was a Jewish perspective, but to be totally fair here’s the Nazi perspective on this place and why they did these things?

I left slightly before the 60 high school students and started to head back to the trail and maybe the ferry. Just before heading down the covered stairway to the Center, I glanced in a room and spotted my stepfather. Naturally, the “cool” tour of Angel Island isn’t the public self-guided version. This one had a room set up that replicated the women’s barracks. On each of the very narrow bunks, they had suitcases set up to show what the detainees might have brought with them. At that point, my mother broke down a little. Her eldest sister came to California alone at age 8 and spent a few weeks stuck on Angel Island. My grandmother had initially brought over my Uncle with her because he was a boy. My aunt had to wait until there was more money, so she had to stay with relatives for several years. My great grandparents died during that time, so she was left to stay with strangers for some of those years. The strangers didn’t treat her well. Eventually, my grandparents sent for her, but she came over alone by boat and for her stay on Angel Island. It ends well, my Aunt made it to San Francisco, eventually married, and they got quite wealthy. She’s still around at age 91.

I think some of my mother’s sadness was also due to the fact that she hasn’t had much contact with her sister in the last 10 years. In any case, the guide brought us into a small room with a genuinely well preserved example of the poetry carved on the walls written in scholarly Chinese. He talked one of the tour group, mostly older Chinese, into reading it in Cantonese.

Afterwards, we went back to the big room where my mother handed me an extra bag lunch and two books she had gotten for me, one about Cantonese Immigrants in Sacramento (had a photo of my Dad’s family) and one about the rise and fall of the Chinese Supermarket Business, by Alfred Yee. Alfred was the guy who helped to organize the excursion for my mother and her group. Once down the stairs, she made sure that I got to meet Alfred, because I’d e-mailed him once with some questions about Locke. We then walked back to the ferry together (maybe a mile and a half) as he filled me in about various myths of Chinese-American history and the history of Locke.

It’s rather amazing what my mother remembers sometimes. Ever since I tried to get in touch with Alfred, she’s made a point of getting me his e-mail, getting me these books, and making certain that I met him. There are days when she can’t remember her own social security number or if she’s asked me in the last half hour about how my daughter, her only grandchild is doing. I think she knows that my writing project is important to me and this is her way of showing that she cares about it. It’s odd sometimes how older parents demonstrate these things.

It’s also odd to think that my mother is 79, was born in San Francisco, and had never been to Angel Island either. My aunt who was there has a daughter who recently moved to Tiburon, the very wealthy town nearest the island. All these distances of time, place, memory got bridged briefly and in some ways I felt it all the more because I missed the ferry that afternoon and happened to glance inside an open door on what I thought was my way out of the immigration center.
chancelucky

Jhumpa Lahiri- Unaccostumed Earth (book review)

2009-07-12T17:14:00.000-07:00

A few months ago I got into a conversation with a work acquaintance about Jhumpa Lahiri’s Interpreter of Maladies. The friend’s reaction was “I read it and that was me, that was exactly my family.”

It happens that the friend is Bengali, grew up on the East Coast, and is very well educated. Jhumpa Lahiri has been extraordinarily successful critically and commercially. How many other writers get short story collections on the best seller list? With that success has come a certain amount of blowback. The complaint being that Lahiri doesn’t much venture out of her comfort zone. It goes something like this. “She’s really good at writing about upwardly mobile Bengalis in America, but there are Bengalis who don’t go to Yale or Bryn Mawr and shouldn’t a great writer deal with a broader range of experience?

I counter with the fact that I’m Chinese, male, and live on the west coast, but my first reaction to Lahiri was “That’s my story too.”

Lahiri’s Bengalis aren’t exactly universal, but they’re certainly not the only group where one generation has committed to living in exile from its own children. The formula for most Lahiri stories is pretty basic. A Bengali goes to American schools, gets a professional job, then struggles in unexpected ways to reconcile those changes with his/her own sense of cultural tradition. In this sense, the cultural value of “career ambition” becomes a kind of paradox. The good Bengali pleases his/her parents by succeeding in school, but that’s exactly what creates a sometimes unbridgeable gap with the very parents and elders he or she is working so hard to please.

Non-writers often get into this mode of why can’t Lahiri (or name some author) write about revolutions in Africa, gay men in Italy, or mall rats in the San Fernando Valley the way she writes about Bengalis in the northeast? I suspect they don’t understand that most fiction writers draw on a set of core materials or experiences. Most of us need to understand a world at a very deep level to be able to identify the rich way the different currents in those waters affect what the rest of us see on the surface. It’s not so much that a great fiction writer needs to write about multiple and wildly different worlds, it’s really more a matter of showing that you can find the depth and range of human experience within your chosen material/culture.

One of the reactions to Lahiri’s third book and second collection of short stories Unaccustomed Earth is that it’s just more of the same. I disagree. Where, Lahiri often explored the price of “success” for Bengalis living in America, Unaccostumed Earth looks at the “failures” in greater depth. More often than not, it’s the men who have fallen short in some way. In Only Goodness, there’s an alcoholic brother as seen through the eyes of a sister who may have inadvertently started him down that path. In a Choice of Accomadations, it’s a thirtyish prep school graduate who gave up Med School and who should probably have been a journalist. In the title story, a female attorney stays home to be a mother while she wrestles with her decision to ask her recently widowered father to move in with them. In the meantime, her father encourages her to stay in the loop with her career. The collection ends with a trilogy of stories devoted to Kaushik, a man who never emotionally turns the corner after the death of his mother.

In reality, Lahiri is extending her territory to another generation and set of problems. In many cases, the children from Unaccostumed Earth essentially grow up, marry out (virtually all of the characters wind up with white mates), and face problems of their own. Rather than attempting to cling to traditions, they’ve frequently turned their back on the protections of Bengali customs and find themselves unable to navigate. The sister with the alcoholic brother is uncertain how to cope with the resulting “hole” in the family. A young woman (Nobody's Business) who eschews both graduate school at Harvard and various offers of arranged marriage finds herself adrift in a relationship with a philandering Egyptian scholar and confused about the ambiguity of her friendship with a male housemate. Kaushik gives up the interconnectedness of Bengali life and finds himself grasping for Hema, the one person he knew before his life changed. Inevitably, the stories in this collection are bittersweet or deeply sad and lonely.

In the Namesake, after all of his emotional wanderings Gogol comes home to the realization that his father’s values were less Indian than he imagined. In Unaccostumed Earth, characters of the same generation frequently lack that comfort and become more fully-exiled from their ancestral culture. They occupy an emotionally more dangerous world than say the young academic in Interpreter of Maladies who takes a room in the home of a hundred year old woman or the Bengali family that befriends a Bangladeshi man just before war breaks out over independence. While there are divorces and various breakdowns in Lahiri’s earlier collection, the characters stay connected to their identity as Bengalis. This greater sense of emotional risk in Unaccostumed Earth also seems to result in a pulling in of plot and the situations themselves. In Interpreter, at least two of the stories are set in India, with one not being about the diaspora at all. In one story, the theme isn’t Indian at all except for the fact that the wife and husband begin cooking dinner together during a regular power outage. In Unaccostumed Earth, the settings and family situations are arguably more familiar and more self-consciously Bengali to heighten the sense of loss and inevitability.

The writing remains beautiful. Lahiri has a remarkably sharp eye for household objects, clothing, and food. Two weeks after reading the book, I found myself jumping up one day and proclaiming to my wife that I wanted to make Bengali fried eggplant (I very rarely cook). I realized later it was just the way Lahiri’s descriptions often linger. You don’t just smell and taste the food, she describes so lovingly. You have to taste it for real. While there are some differences between the Cantonese diaspora and the Indian, both cultures have had their greatest success in maintaining a sense of identity through the persistence of food. You live apart from your extended family, you marry people outside your ethnicity, you stop going back to the native country (or never do), but you still define yourself through food.

More significant, Lahiri’s characters maintain their own way of speaking and establish distinct identities quickly. Still, I’m not sure that Unaccostumed is quite as successful artistically as Interpreter, though I think both work better than the Namesake (the movie was actually better than the book in some ways). For one, the trilogy of stories at the end felt vaguely unsatisfying at least partly because Hema never became a full partner in the unfolding of the story and thus lacked the subtle and beautiful plotting of the best of Interpreter of Maladies. In the brother/sister story, I found myself wondering if she’d chosen the less interesting point of view of the two and the references, as beautifully done as they are, to a Van Eyck painting felt forced. My take though may be affected by two things. First, my favorite story was Unaccostumed Earth itself, about the globetrotting father and the homebound daughter, which builds beautifully around the symbol of a misplaced postcard. In any case, as fine as the stories that followed were, I felt inevitably let down. Second, Lahiri this time wasn’t new to me. It’s hard to match the joy of “discovering” a writer about whom you can say “that’s me” “that’s my life”.

But none of that has anything do to do with Lahiri failing to venture outwards. In fact, I see this as a very gentle spreading of the wings of her fictional world. She remains very much a writer I love and one whose next flight I’ll track closely.
chancelucky

He's Just Not That Into You (2009) movie review

2009-07-07T12:47:00.000-07:00

He’s Just Not That Into You (2009) is one of those movies that you watch and tell yourself “This should have been a lot better.” On the other hand, what should you expect from a romantic comedy based on a self-help book of the same name (Greg Behrendt, Liz Tuccillo). Even less promising, the authors of the eponymous book got the title from a line from Sex in the City. It’s not like I didn’t know better. I just happen to like romantic comedies, partly because my wife will pretty dependably watch them with me (the fact that she didn't because she'd seen this one in the theater with our older daughter probably should have been my clue). To be honest, I also wasn’t going to pass up a movie that included both Jennifer Connelly and Scarlett Johansson.

The formula for romantic comedies is actually pretty simple. The audience has to fall in love with and root for at least one of the stars. If you manage that, the movie-going public will forgive a wide range of shortcomings in the script. It’s one of the reasons that once you score in one of these things, they’ll never stop casting you in them. Meg Ryan, Julia Roberts, Sandra Bullock, and Drew Barrymore (the creative force behind He’s Just Not That Into You) have built careers on exactly this. On the guy side, Hugh Grant and Tom Hanks have done the same, though Hanks actually makes serious movies too. Drew Barrymore got together a monster cast for He’s Just Not That Into You. In addition to Connelly and Johansson, you get Drew Barrymore herself, Jennifer Anniston, and Ben Affleck. The only problem is that none of these stars do the heavy lifting in the movie. The bulk of the screen time actually goes to Jinnifer Goodwin, Justin Long (Dodge Ball, the Hangover), Bradley Cooper (Wedding Crashers), and Kevin Connolly (The Notebook). Unfortunately, you just don’t wind up all that charmed by any of the characters, established or not.

Let’s do the math. Jinnifer Goodwin plays a ditz. Justin Long is a jaded bartender. Bradley Cooper is a cheating husband. Kevin Connolly fakes being gay to sell real estate. Scarlett Johansson seduces a married man. Jennifer Anniston spends most of her onscreen time being annoyed because her longtime boyfriend (Affleck) won’t marry her. Jennifer Connelly is a cigarette nazi. Now, there’s a group that I’m really going to sympathize with. And which one of them do you want to make the emotional heart of your movie? Actually, the bigger question is where was the heart in any form?

To me, it looks like they tried to use Crash (best picture 2006) with its interlinked plots tied together by either a single setting or oblique connections to a single event as the blueprint for a romantic comedy. This, of course, has been the vogue, and it’s done quite effectively in movies like 21 Grams, Babel, and The Air I Breathe where the jigsaw puzzle ultimately serves to underscore the mystical connection of all things in a world spinning into incoherence and alienation. Unfortunately, this one didn’t just copy Crash, it crashed. It’s worth mentioning that the mosaic plot was done well long before Crash. It goes back at least as far as Grand Hotel (1932) and was used very effectively in a romantic comedy in Richard Curtis’s Love Actually (2003). The difference being that I still remember how charming Colin Firth was as an awkward writer who falls for his Portugese housekeeper or how poignant Emma Thompson was when she realizes that her husband bought diamonds for his mistress and a Joni Mitchell album for her for Christmas. And no, it didn't help He's Just Not that In to sprinkle in some of those man on the street interview across the movie a la Reds, Harry Met Sally. Does anyone in Hollywood get that a movie is not made to feel original by copying original touches from other peoples' movies?

Sadly, He’s Just Not, simply lacks those kinds of moments. This was Scarlett Johansson’s 47th turn as a sexually-overripe but essentially lonely woman, but I honestly can’t say she’s as good here as she was either in Match Point or Vicki, Cristina, Barcelona. Whatever happened to the little girl from the Horse Whisperer or the confused but chaste young adult in Lost in Tokyo anyway? She’s plenty sexy, but I’m pretty sure she can play other roles. Drew Barrymore gets about three minutes of screen time as the only straight employee of the Baltimore Blade. Half of Anniston’s scenes look like outtakes from when they cut out the serious parts of Wedding Crashers. I think Jennifer Connelly’s a terrific actress, but it strains credibility that she’d be married to a guy who’d want to cheat on her.

What are we left with? There’s a bit about a pen between Goodwin and Justin Long. Minor mechanical note. Connolly and Long’s characters supposedly know one another from childhood, but somehow they never get a scene together. Instead, the various links between the characters are bookmarked then forgotten. All the women work together, Bradley Cooper and Ben Affleck are pals, but nothing really comes of it. Instead, we just get this message “Hey everyone, these miniatures we stuck together, they’re connected somehow!” The one really romantic scene in the movie with Affleck ultimately fails for the simple reason that we just haven’t seen enough of him in the script to care much.

It may come down to this. While the self-help publishing industry may have only recently caught up with the notion of learning to read the signals of mismatched desire, it’s actually been a romantic comedy theme since pre-Jolson. It’s just that no one ever told the producers of this movie that. At one point, they homage John Hughes ( not my favorite director), but it’s like they had no clue how a John Hughes movie or any good romance actually works.
chancelucky

Water Ghosts- Shawna Yang Ryan (review)

2009-07-01T12:57:00.000-07:00

If you’ve ever been to Locke, California (sometimes known as the last self-contained Chinatown in America), it’s an easy place to miss from the roadside partly because the town’s buildings are so unremarkable. More than anything, you remember the combined sensation of heat, fog, and the persistent presence of mildew from being so close to the Sacramento River. One result is that the place has an ethereal quality that photographers and painters often pick up. Thousands of Chinese passed through this refuge, yet they remain just a bit out of our reach. Locke is more felt than seen.

First and foremost Shawna Yang Ryan’s novel Water Ghosts (formerly Locke 1928) gets this right. Her vision of Locke stands outside of time. She describes buildings, plants, a church service, a celebration in a gambling hall, but they feel less than permanent. Ryan achieves this by focusing her energies on literally writing from inside her characters’ skins. She describes in great detail what they hear, see, how they bleed, cough to the point where the novel frequently feels claustrophobic. You don’t just see and hear what they hear, you are seeing and feeling what they see and hear intensely. It wasn’t until the middle of the novel that I noticed how little conventional narration there is to provide “perspective” about time, place, or events within the town in the broader sense. Not many writers can manage this and even fewer can sustain the “unsettled” mood that soaks the pages of Water Ghosts.

The second interesting choice Ryan made was to take the fact that Locke the town was a place where men generally outnumbered women 20 to 1 and to look at it though the lens of the 1. Richard Fong, the manager of the Lucky Fortune, one of the town’s gambling halls, who either escaped to California or stays to support his Chinese family, serves as the nominal “hub” of the plot. Despite that, Ryan’s real focus is on the various women who see Richard (Fong Man Gum) as Locke’s alpha male. These include - Chloe, a white prostitute who is a favorite of Richard’s and whose family is just a few miles away in Sacramento - Poppy, the Chinese madame of the local brothel who worked for her position after being the victim of a disastrous arranged marriage– the minister’s wife and daughter – and Ming Wai, Richard’s Chinese wife who suddenly appears in Locke on a raft with two other mysterious women. Ryan explores the capacity of these women to endure and survive in a town where few intact families existed, but birth and death go on.

Water Ghosts is beautifully and hauntingly written. At the same time, it’s not a breezy read nor was it meant to be one. It seems intent on getting the feel of Locke right. Ryan stayed there for some thirty days to absorb the place. I suspect it was time well spent and was critical to her ability to catch Locke. It never was a simple place. Instead Locke was the sort of American town where dreams, ghosts, and forgotten promises coexisted on equal footing with what most of us think of as day to day life. Water Ghosts makes certain that we get the town’s essence.

I look forward to Ryan’s next book which I understand focuses on Taiwan in 1927.
chancelucky

Don't Cry for Me South Carolina (Mark Sanford)

2009-06-27T15:14:00.000-07:00

Here I thought all these sex scandals were going to end with Monica Lewinsky. I don't know what to make of Mark Sanford, Governor of South Carolina, or any of the many politicians who have gotten caught up in these things. I'd say only a fool would claim that it's a Republican or a Democratic or a liberal vs. conservative thing to get caught in a sex scandal. The only difference is that when the Democrats get caught, they either get impeached, resign, or otherwise lose their jobs. For some odd reason, the Republicans do a better job of staying in office after they confess. Even Larry Craig managed to stay in office until he termed out.

One of the odd things to me isn't partisan at all. It's how we consider it a major scandal when politicians get caught in affairs, but when other celebrities whether it's entertainers or athletes get caught up in these things it's just part of the deal. I don't now Jennifer Aniston, but she seemed nice enough. Her husband Brad Pitt gets involved with Angelina Jolie and a few years it's all just something to be expected. Aniston made a hit movie with a dog. Jolie and Pitt both got nominated for Oscars. They're flourishing We don't exactly forget the “affair” thing, but we see the making of movies or celebrity as somehow independent of adultery at least enough so that we don't stop watching Angelina Jolie movies because she maybe stole Brad. Several months ago, it came out that Roger Clemens had an affair with singer Mindy Macready, likely when she was underage. A few years before that Barry Bonds's mistress wrote a tell all book. What lingered? It was the whole steroids thing. You can cheat on your wife if you're an athlete, you just can't cheat in the sport.

Politics is the opposite. Did anyone know who Senator Ensign was.? Even though it wasn't that long ago and it got a fair amount of publicity, does anyone remember that Mark Sanford was the governor who tried to refuse stimulus money? Let's put this another way. Did it matter that Elliot Spitzer was the prosecutor who took on fraud on Wall Street even a little before it became so fashionable. Not that it mattered. We couldn't have a governor who would pay for hookers. What's happened in America that we now seem to care more about who our leaders screw at night than whether or not they're screwing us or helping us in their day jobs?

Sure, sometimes the sex stuff slips over into your actual job like when you give your girlfriend and her husband jobs and contracts or in one case your boyfriend. At the same time, that pales in comparison to Dick Cheney getting out of office and saying “Sure, we never though Iraq had anything to do with 9/11” or learning that the administration was torturing people even though they were getting memos about torture not exactly producing reliable information anyway. Shouldn't we notice that sort of thing instead? It's certainly interesting to find out that Mark Sanford was doing bad things in Argentina, but why is that the bigger news story? I mean which one gets you to the front of the line to hell faster? I started a war for the hell of it and ruined my country's economy in the process or I cheated on my wife in Argentina for a couple weeks? Here's an idea. Why not end all official business in South Carolina completely while they impeach the guy? That certainly would be the patriotic thing to do.

It just strikes me that we have a much more mature view of movie stars. Sure, we're titillated by their private lives and their personal foibles, but we understand that what really matters is that they still look hot enough so that we'll pay 9 dollars to go see one of their movies. We don't especially care if they adopt children from all around the world, save us from global warming, keep us from abusing animals, or serve as president of the NRA. On the other end, we don't care if they spend their offscreen time ingesting black tar heroin, neglecting their children, or beating on hotel clerks for unexplained reasons. We understand that the real job of movie stars is to make us want to watch them in movies. That's the real job. The other stuff might want to make us watch them either more or less, but you can only be dead on screen a certain number of times. Sports has a similar thing. You want our attention, you have to win games at some point. You want to keep our attention, you have to win some more games unless you're Anna Kournikova. Golf, for instance, understands that Tiger Woods is way more interesting than John Daly even if Daly made much better tabloid fodder.

If only we took our politicians that seriously, we might even have universal health care. Personally, if you asked me the public would pay more attention to the issue if instead of talking about insurance premiums they started talking about boob jobs for all adult women and viagra for all males. Then we could pretend that we live like movie stars and athletes and people would treat the policy stuff as if it mattered.

chancelucky

At this level, I'm not sorry about Michael Jackson

2009-06-25T21:42:00.000-07:00

I should probably wait a bit, but I won't. I liked much of Michael Jackson's music and thought that he was a terrific performer in his prime. I'm sorry for the loss of those things and I do find his death sad in that sense. I am, however, not going to mourn the guy. In fact, I'm glad he's dead.

Despite the not guilty verdict, I still believe that Michael Jackson was a child molester. No, he probably didn't lock his victims in a basement and rape them, but he was still a child molester who persuaded young boys to do things with him that they weren't old enough to consent to. In some ways, these are the worst because it's harder for the victim to make the separation between the seeming acts of “kindness/seduction” and the bits of the relationship that constitute molestation. The seduction just lengthens the pain and guilt for the victim. Maybe the King of Pop was some sort of boy at heart, maybe he was abused himself in some way that made his actions more compulsive than chosen, but he never openly repented and there was nothing to ever suggest that he ever stopped trying to do these things or sought treatment.

The fact that Michael Jackson was musically-talented makes no difference to me. In fact, it only made it possible for him to molest more boys than otherwise might have. He also may have done any number of other humanitarian acts, even ones that benefited children. Those were certainly good deeds and I won't question his motives for doing them. I also suppose that there's some possibility that his acts were misunderstood in some way and he wasn't actually molesting boys. If that's the case, I'll take this back.

That said, as a non-celebrity, I'll say on behalf of his likely dozens of victims and the families of those victims what the celebrities and media won't say. I'm glad he's dead. I hope it was painful. I won't mourn him and I'm glad he's not around to molest any more boys. I'm also not going to euphemize it by saying the guy was eccentric. If no one else is going to say or write it today, I will.
chancelucky

Dirty Dansu

2009-06-24T16:17:00.000-07:00

After more than forty years of going to a variety of barbers and hairstylists who never learned my name, I started “going steady” with a hairstylist ten years ago. It was my wife’s idea. She’s not Asian, but was convinced that hardly anyone at those ten dollar haircut places had any idea how to cut Asian hair. Most of the people who cut my hair has this knack for doing it in such a way that I looked like Ed Grimley within a couple weeks. One day, my wife and I were shopping when she said I needed a haircut. It happened that the lady cutting my hair was Cambodian and Mrs. Chancelucky declared that from now on this would be the person who cut my hair.

I’ve now gotten used to knowing the name of the person cutting my hair and her knowing mine. For a few years, we mostly talked about places to go to dinner. I had learned a number of random but interesting items about her, the most significant being that my hair cutter and her husband had managed to buy seven houses. We stopped talking about places to go to dinner because during the banking crisis, they lost six of the houses. She also bought her own shop and sold it, something that I found out today when I came for my appointment and the whole salon had been remodeled. To be accurate, it was mostly remodeled. The ceiling still hadn’t been recovered and only half of the new lighting system was in place. Without all the wattage, the place seemed more like a bar than a hair salon.

Anyway, my hair cutting lady asked me about father’s day then told me about how she had gone to a party with her husband over the weekend at which he began dirty dancing with other women including an old girlfriend of his. I suspect that they have a number of Asian friends in the area, but my hair stylist doesn’t know many middle-aged Asian men who aren’t friends or relatives. She was puzzling over why she got as mad at her husband as she did.

I’d heard other stories from her in the past. Once she told me that she’d never learned to swim because she’d almost drowned while crossing a river when her family was leaving Cambodia. This was different, though. Her husband had ultimately apologized and insisted that he wasn’t doing the dirty dancing as much as it was Hennessey. I don’t know them, but that might have been true. I then asked her if she’d been rubbing up on her husband while they were dancing earlier in the evening and she said “Yes.” I figured that eliminated the possibility of his dancing that way with others but not with her.

I then accidentally told her what appeared to be the perfect thing, “Maybe you got him too excited when he was dancing with you.”

This made her smile and we agreed that she needed to go have a normal night of dancing with her husband some time soon so they could get past all this. I felt like Chris Harrison, the host of the Bachelor who always says just the right thing in the Bachelor’s moment of stress.

I’m not sure why I suddenly crossed this line into the inner life of my hair cut lady. I now understand why some people develop such complex relationships with the people who cut their hair and do their nails. It seems like a very American thing, though I did see an Audrey Tatou movie about a French beauty parlor that amounted to the same thing with beauticians as combination confessors, groomers, and friends. Did I need to have an Asian hair stylist before I could form such a relationship?

After that I picked up lunch at Port of Subs where all the people behind the counter were East Indian. Other than Jared? Do people form friendships with the people who make their sandwiches?

In the meantime, it came out during my hairstyling thing that the only females I’ve danced with in the last fifteen years were my wife and my daughter. With my wife we never go out on the dance floor and make like were in a Patrick Swayze-Jennifer Grey movie or even one with Julia Styles. It’s generally more like Shall We Dansu, only we don’t do ballroom. Maybe once every two years, we wind up at a wedding that happens to have a live band.

Anyway, it seems like every couple develops its own customs about when , how, and who they dance with in public. Some dance with everyone. In fact Bill Clinton’s mom supposedly told him it was bad manners not to dance with every single girl at a party, something that has fascinating psychological ramifications given the rest of Bill Clinton’s life. Some couples dance with others, but only slow dance together. I have no idea what the rules are on dirty dancing, we’re too old for that sort of thing though we did go to a wedding a few months ago where a bunch of the women were making like pole dancers. I didn’t comment on it to Mrs. Chancelucky. At the same time, it’s not like any couple ever sits down and says “These are the rules for when we go out dancing.”

None that has anything to do with being Asian, having a regular hair stylist, or whatever else started this story, yet somehow in some way I can’t explain that has everything to do with how all this came about.
chancelucky

Back

2009-06-23T11:17:00.000-07:00

Well, I finished my short story collection, at least for now. Next step, I need to write the perfect query letter, come up with a 30 page sample, and find an agent. My wife tells me that the whole process sent me into an emotional tailspin. After I had a draft that I “liked”, I found myself more frustrated than satisfied. While those of us who write never say such things, I think many of us dream that people will see it and immediately tell you how wonderful it is. It does happen once in a while, but the overwhelming tendency of friends, relatives, etc. is, if they happen to read any of it, to tell you every single thing they think is wrong with whatever you’ve written. I’m not sure why that is, but it’s often like there’s some unwritten obligation to not say anything positive.

There were also folk who were nice enough to read the whole thing who simply weren’t all that positive. Often, they had criticisms that made sense at the level of “Why didn’t I think of or see that?” Honestly, that just makes it worse. Bottom line, I spent many years working on something an about five people were willing to read the whole thing. Two actually liked it and everyone else essentially dismissed it as unpublishable or not interesting. I think the thing that was harder yet, was how indifferent so many people were as in "What have you been up to lately?" "I just finished my short story collection that I've been working on for years." No response whatsoever. No "hey good luck" No "Gee I'd like to read it some time". No "what's it about?" Instead, it was lots of "Oh someone just knocked on the door, I'll have to talk to you later." My take is that if people who know and like you aren't interested...

Given that, does it really make sense to go look for an agent? Even harder, it felt like the overwhelming message was that I had wasted my time. Instead of being exhilarated about finishing a huge project, I was exhausted and disappointed instead. For the last month, I haven’t even been able to look at my own book. I figured if other people were reading five pages and concluding that it wasn’t worth reading, maybe I’ve been working on something that only I can appreciate.

In the meantime, I slipped away from this blog. Much of that was the short story collection. I also simply hit the fourth wall with reality television. Every time I tried to write about American Idol, I found myself going off about how “tired” the show had gotten. The Bachelor became less of a “reality” show than a soap opera with non-professional actors playing out a not very well-written script. Yes, Mrs. Chancelucky and I have been watching Jillian and guys, but we’re having a hard time deciding if Wes is more annoying than Shane Llamas. As I look at the reality landscape, there seem to be more and more instances of the shows featuring the mentally unstable. With Jon and Kate Gosselin, I keep asking what kind of country lets two people like this have eight kids? I know somehow that the whole business with Susan Boyle could have been avoided. She could easily have had her “moment” without the meltdown. What happened to reality television where the participants got to do something inspiring then disappear back to regular life?

I did like having an audience, a very appreciative one at that, for my reality tv writing. I’d love to find some way to continue that relationship, but I can’t promote shows that I feel have slipped into something that’s essentially unhealthy. Whatever relationship American Idol had to actual “music” and the joys that come with it slipped away in the last three seasons. Any tie the Bachelor had to “romance” gave way to something far more cynical somewhere after Andy and Tessa’s season. More important, my repeating this in post after post would be both stupid and boring.

So what do I post about? Well, I might go back to political commentary. I’d wanted to give President Obama at least a six month honeymoon and he’s had that. There’s also movie and book reviews and the various odd details of Mr. and Mrs. Chancelucky’s lives. Three’s never been much of an audience for those things here, just as there’s likely little to no audience for my fiction, but I like doing it and more important I do miss blogging regularly.

Anyway, I’m back. I wish I could tell you that there are now dozens of agents trying to take me to lunch so that I’ll let them represent “Inventing China”. I probably need to face the fact that it’ll never happen and I have unintentionally created 280 plus pages of random boredom. In the meantime, I like blogging and I like the fact that sometimes people read stuff I’ve written and find it either funny or interesting.
chancelucky

A Night of Great Disco Ballads (Idol 8 round of 6+1)

2009-04-24T16:33:00.000-07:00

Carrie Prejean was recently spotted out with Ryan Seacrest

I’m still trying to figure out why Adam Lambert dressed up as K.D. Lang the other night. While Randy Jackson kept assuring America how great this year’s singers are because they hit all those notes, I kept wondering why they had a Disco night and the only person dancing seemed to be Paula Abdul and her inner-goddess. Just a reminder, in pop music it’s not the notes, it’s the beat especially in Disco. Let me translate, “This is our most talented group ever” really means “America’s not talking about you guys at all and they consider about five of you interchangeable.”

Are there really record executives dreaming of the day they find the next Donna Summer? Apparently, a bunch of these Idol finalists think that. How about that Anoop dressed up as a lounge lizard complete with mustache? You know what? The whole night sucked. Think about this, the apparent highlight was Kris Allen doing “Hard for the Money” unplugged. Did he persuade you that there were layers either to the lyric or the melody that benefited from it? Did you pick up any new resonances in the meaning. I have to say, I liked it better when it just seemed to be a song about prostitution, either literal or figurative. Either that or it’s something you play during lunch hour aerobics class. This is what I think, the guy was mostly just trying to get out of having to do disco. According to the judges, Kris is now a contender for the finals. What other story have they got? The whole Allison thing is not happening. If you have more bottom three appearances than actual memorable performances, you’re just not going to win.

That wasn’t the case with Adam Lambert. I’d say when Ryan starts asking, “Say Adam, how are you going to surprise us this week?” It’s time to just throw the fast ball knee high on the outside corner. I know Adam Lambert has both the voice and the stage presence to do that, but now I keep sitting on the curve ball. Let’s see him perform in a clown outfit. Maybe they’ll do Broadway night and he’ll go Freddie Mercury. Maybe he’ll shop in the women’s section like Kris and Paula, but maybe for different reasons. The way the judges have gone lately, Adam’s chances of winning are better than even against the field. This is Secretariat, the Chuck Noll era Steelers, like betting on Clay Aiken coming out some day.

Okay, that one didn’t fit, but the only real drama (not to say the show won’t manufacture some) about the next 4 episodes of American Guydol (Jordin Sparks was the last female finalist and Katharine Mcphee was the last one over 18) has to do with the coming reality show collision between the Miss USA Contest and American Idol 8. If you wonder how they might have made Miss USA more with it, instead of asking Carrie Prejean (this year’s Miss California, well except for parts of San Francisco) about gay marriage they could have said “Do you think American Idol is ready for an openly gay winner?”

If you haven’t been following the news, Carrie Prejean may have lost the Miss USA title because she told the judges she felt gay marriage was wrong and stuck by her answer. Given that half the male audience and a similar percentage of the men working behind the scenes at your average Pageant are gay men, some people didn’t like her answer. It also seemed mildly odd for a woman to parade around in a skimpy bikini, high heels, and makeup then start talking about the Bible being her guide in life. I just didn’t know that Ephesians came with a centerfold. Nonetheless, much of America is giving her credit for not playing the politician and sticking up for what she believes. Would they be saying the same thing if Carrie Prejean had suggested that we burn gay couples at the stake or mentioned that the Jews killed Jesus? Who knows? It’s all a matter of degree I guess.

In the meantime, they’re saying that she went on a date with Michael Phelps. Maybe if they’d asked her about legalizing marijuana, she’d go on a date with Rosie O’donnell? I do think they’re making too big a deal of it. When’s the last time you ever heard of a former beauty pageant winner getting into politics? You betcha, it’s not like Carrie Prejean is going to run for vice-president of the US or something. This is just Miss USA. Can you imagine the other four finalists that night though? How many do you think agreed with Carrie Prejean and America just didn’t get to find out.

Enough with the Adam and Steve business, I assume you want me to talk about Adam and Ryan. Here in California, we recently had Proposition 8 where the Mormon Church spent millions to make sure that we were all clear on the concept of traditional marriage being between a man and one or more women. You wanna talk about Big Love, what bigger love is there in protecting us from the horrors of gay people being in committed relationships. Proposition 8 split California voters right down the middle with slightly more of them siding with Miss USA.

Idol 8 is in this fascinating position of healing the cultural divide. According to most, the likely final is the openly gay guy who really can sing against the widower who works as a church music director. If it weren’t in such bad taste, I’d say it. This isn’t American Idol, it’s like a special episode of Wife Swap. I can see a final where Adam and Danny duet to Ebony and Ivory except with pink keys marking the sharps and flats. For a couple weeks, we may get to watch the finalists engage in all this camaraderie and exchange various tokens of mutual respect.

Adam can sing Bobby Goldsboro's 'Honey' in memory of Danny’s wife. In the middle when gets to 'I long to be with you", the camera cuts to Danny who has to take off his glasses to wipe away tears. The judges tell Adam how he can sing anything and Paula compares Adam to Bob Dylan and Tim Buckley. Danny then sing “It’s Raining Men” and blame it on Jasmine Trias. Just before the final chorus, he points to Adam then Ryan and winks. Paula tells Danny how on key he always is no matter what he sings. Simon thanks Danny for dedicating a song to him. Kara says something about how David Hernandez is probably dancing around right now if he's watching. Carrie Prejean comes out to hug both contenders and to tell America who she loves the sinner and not the sin. Adam gives her an odd look.

American picks a winner based on talent not sexual preference and our country will be whole again, though still 80 trillion dollars in debt. We’re probably not far from a time when instead of a recording contract, the winner of the show just gets a job.

If you ask me, I’d just like to see one season of the show where the winner at the end is pop music itself. Just don’t think that’s going to be this year.
Other Chancelucky Idol Reviews

Sir Linksalot American Idol articles

Buddy TV AMerican Idol Page

chancelucky

Is There Anything to Save? (Idol 8 Round of 7)

2009-04-17T16:52:00.000-07:00

It was nice to see Jennifer Hudson come back for results night on Idol. Her voice still sounds great; whatever issues there were about her wardrobe and look are smoothed out (though I liked the original Jennifer Hudson); She’s more comfortable doing patter. I doubt that her coming back for the round of 7 elimination was an accident. She’s both the only Idol contestant to win an Oscar and the most infamous early exit in the show’s history. As it happens, Jennifer Hudson went out in round 7. As it happens, one of this year’s gimmicks is the judges’ save option: America decides, but we get one chance to correct. Lo and behold, Jennifer Hudson comes to sing on the results show and what do those zany-unpredictable judges just happen to do for the first time? They save Justin Timberfake, I mean Matt Giraud. Imagine that!

If you’re wondering why I’ve cut back on posting about the show this year, that’s it in a nutshell. From Paula pulling out the box of crayons for Simon, to Kara flirting with male contestants, to various oblique references to Danny Gokey’s departed wife, to Scott McCintyre’s disability, everything feels rehearsed. Reality TV thrives on spontaneity. If you’re one of the three people who hasn’t seen the Susan Boyle clip from Britain’s got talent, have a look. Whether anyone really was surprised to hear that voice come out of that person, they sure acted like it and that’s what makes the video viral. Reality shows do best when things happen that just don’t seem to be scripted.

There’ve actually been some pretty memorable vocal performances on Idol in the last two years, but I still wonder if there’s been anything as arresting as Sanjaya Malakar doing Wild Thing. It’s not that the guy was a great talent, it was that there seemed to be something chaotic about his presence on the show. It’s part of why I actually watch this year when Adam Lambert performs. It’s not so much when Paula starts talking about his special sauce, it’s more interesting when he does a Middle Eastern Ring of Fire and Simon hates it. The problem is more with everyone else.

You may or may not remember the American Girls software. American Girls is this history-conscious-politically-correct line of dolls that came packaged with a backstory. Instead of Lingerie Barbie and her pink corvette, American Girls dolls were supposed to provoke little girls to think about what life was like during the revolution, working in a factory, or say a slave girl working in the Master’s plantation manor. Anyway, the dolls were a big hit so since everyone else was doing educational software the company did its own. In it, you could take their characters and stage little plays with them. Nice idea, but in those days most home computers didn’t have the horsepower to do it well.

I think American Idol licensed the software and most of the contestants are just dolls with pre-printed back stories. There’s the Desi-next door who’s kind of like Phil Stacy with a tan. He appears to work hard, has a nice voice, but there’s nothing all that interesting about his music. There’s the 16 year old rocker with the great voice who can’t quite connect with the audience yet (what was she thinking with that song from Armageddon?). There’s the nice-looking married fellow from the sticks who’s doing really well singing ballads. After 8+ performances with this cast, some weeks are good and some not so good, but I’m never all that surprised. A few times, a couple of them have come on to sing I check out the costume, figure out which way they’re going to play it fast-slow, bluesy-sensitive, etc. in about fifteen seconds then I walk out of the living room to put something in the microwave or move clothes from the washer to the dryer. I figure I can just go to the toystore and get an American Idoll next week if I change my mind. With the exception of Allison and Adam, I just don’t see any of these people having any chance to be Jennifer Hudson or Carrie Underwood. As Simon has told a few contestants this year, “I don’t see any way you can win this.” It’s true, but nine zillion people auditioned for this show, what the heck happened?

I know this is horrifying, but I’ve been paying more attention to Dancing with the Stars than Idol. One aspect of DWTS, apart from the fact that even when it’s bad there are always a handful of really attractive people on the show (Mrs. Chancelucky has developed a thing for Gilles Marini and she keeps accusing me of watching the show for Julianne Hough), there are never more than four or five people who can win on that show. For some reason, it’s still fun watching the also rans. That used to be the case on Idol, then something changed and the also rans became oddly forgettable. Does anyone remember Stephanie Edwards, Ramiele Malubay, or Brandon Rogers? Want something even more scary, who are Alexis Grace and Michael Sarver? DWTS more or less keeps the sexy factor in the mix at all costs, this year's AI cast just isn't long on that kind of appeal.

Reality TV is about surprise and a big part of the surprise is rooted in personality. Years ago, Idol had a semifinalist, Melinda Lira, who was so pissed off when she got eliminated that she didn’t go through the motions of even appearing to do her sing off. Not so good for her, but really entertaining tv. One of the joys of watching Jennifer Hudson when she was a contestant was to see both the talent and the rough-edges. It just seems like the contestant show up in the final 12 with their makeovers already done these days. It can be argued that Jordin Sparks grew some on her way to being Idol 6, but I’m hard-pressed to think of other “watch them grow” runs on the show. Taylor Hicks and David Cook pretty much had their acts tv ready. I think the same can be said of Adam Lambert. It’s also one of the reasons Melinda Doolittle didn’t make it past third. We want to see a story unfold. I don’t mean back story, a la my wife died, I mean one where things happen and change over the 20 week season. Think more Elliot Yamin.

So, what can happen to make this season more watchable? Allison Iraheta can acquire a bit more stage presence so it appears less like she’s singing into a microphone and more like she’s connecting to an audience. Lil Rounds can take Jennifer Hudson’s advice and defiantly be herself. I don’t think that’s going to happen though. If I were to list Divas who appeared on the show, well all three from Jennifer Hudson’s season were better perfomers than Lil Rounds. Throw in Carly Smithson, Mandisa, and Lakisha Jones and how can you be like the 8th best singer in your category and seriously expect to win the show? Anoop, Matt, Kris are all reasonably attractive guys with good voices who score somewhere below a 5 on virtually anyone’s originality meter. Generally, this means you finish anywhere from 3rd to 7th. Antony Federov, Chris Richardson, Ace Young, and sorry Beckeye there may even be an Australian or two who fits this category.

With the guys that Paula put in the finals like five weeks ago (like Simon, she might well have been right), I feel like we’re seeing two instances where the show got a do-over. While I think Adam Lambert is in a different talent league from Constantine, they play the same sport. Both clearly love being on stage and see their Idol performances as a “show” rather than a singing opportunity. I also think that Danny Gokey is a new and improved version of Chris Sligh. You have the church ties, the wife being part of the story, even the glasses. This time, though they took away the back talk and the blog. That said, the story with both these contestants is pretty much told. I imagine that Adam Lambert will find yet another way to surprise America, but it’s not going to be breaking news even if he wears Allison’s dress from two weeks ago. Bottom line, I suspect the only lurking story line is Allison making the jump from singer to “performer”. I wasn’t shocked that the judges pimped so hard for her on Tuesday night, whatever sauce Paul was on.

If AI wants to get its mojo back, even if it’s not Born to Be Wild, it needs to get away from being “tamed”. The performers need to take the show back from the producers and
we need to see a couple Susan Boyle moments. If you think about it, that’s more or less what Clay Aiken was so many seasons ago. Though, who knows whether he’d been kissed back then and by whom.
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An Update

2009-04-09T12:52:00.000-07:00

From the Sacramento Bee

If you’ve been looking for my most recent American Idol posts or (God forbid) looking for any new posts from me on other topics, you’ve probably noticed that I haven’t been around as much.

First, I’ve been very busy with regular life, but I’ve also been working very hard on a short story collection that I’m submitting for publication. Picking the stories is one thing, editing nearly 300 pages of material so that it’s coherent has turned out to be a huge task.

Second, I tivoed AI from Tuesday night, came home, and didn’t even feel that much like watching it. So Simon, it’s me, it’s not you…..Nonetheless, I think I just saw too much of the show. Other than being curious about what Adam Lambert will do next , it’s more or less stopped mattering to me whether or not any of the other contenders do well or badly. The show itself has turned oddly joyless.

I’ll be back to the blogging soon, btw….I may even do a couple more AI writeups assuming that I can watch all the way through. On the other hand, maybe I’ll get an agent, a publisher, and people reading my fiction. Me and the other million or so fiction writers out there :}

In the meantime, I do appreciate everyone who takes a look here and I’ll try to post once a week or so after this.

Binghamton Blues

2009-04-05T08:58:00.000-07:00

The scary thing for me is that 2 of the biggest mass shootings in the US in the last couple years had Asian gunmen. The Virginia Tech shooter was Korean and the Binghamton killer was Vietnamese. So much for the model minority club.

I'm also used to reading shooting stories where hundreds of shots are fired, but surprisingly few people actually get killed. One of the disturbing things about the most recent shootings has been how efficient the killers have been.

One of the NRA's arguments is that if everyone has the right to carry, then people can protect themselves. I don't understand why these things keep happening and the targets never shoot back. In fact, the Unitarian Church shooting in Tennessee, they just tackled the guy and stopped him (that's liberals for you) I would think that if someone really wanted to lobby for the second amendment, he/she'd make sure he was around for one of these mass shootings and shoot the gunman. The NRA could even do something like what the Gideon Society does. All these loose firearms out there and every time some nut walks into a building with dozens of people in it, no one there ever happens to be armed.

Even in Iraq, the Coalition Provisional Authority had the sense to let every family keep one AK47 after they disbanded the army. I'm not sure the combination of mass unemployment and loose assault weapons worked that well there, but it's the principle that counts. We were, after all, building an American style democracy.

I used to see these bumper stickers that said "In a police state, only the police have guns". What's it mean when only crazy people seem to have guns? It's hard for me to register what that implies.

chancelucky

Anoop On My Mind (Idol 8 Round of 11)

2009-03-18T15:00:00.000-07:00

Last Christmas, my local radio station played a recording of David Bowie singing a duet on Little Drummer Boy with Bing Crosby. It should have been beyond strange, but it wasn’t. Idol theme nights frequently present those sorts of situations. It’s often hard enough for a young artist to master one genre. Most of the winners have found some way to adapt and even flourish when forced into unfamiliar musical waters. Carrie Underwood did Heart. David Cook did Billie Jean. Chris Daughtry did Walk the Line. Oh yeah! I forgot, Chris Daughtry didn’t win, the show now just acts like he did. Anyway, Grand Ole’ Opry night with Randy Travis presented several of this year’s finalists with just such an opportunity.

For Anoop Desai, aka the Desi Next Door, country night presented a problem. India’s the second most populous country in the world, but you don’t see a lot of Indian athletes in the Olympics and despite the sheer number of Bollywood musicals that come out each year you don’t see many Indian country western singers. I know India had a strange fascination with Jim Reeves (the guy was even bigger in Sri Lanka), but I don’t know that necessarily meant that he spawned a lot of imitators there.

Of course, Anoop is American. He’s Indian by heritage. He’s also one of the first Idol finalists who appears to be getting a graduate degree at UNC Chapel Hill no less (Go Tyler!) , but he grew up in North Carolina just like Kellie Pickler and Bucky Covington. Maybe if he goes deep into the season, we can have rumors about Anoop dating Kellie. “Ah nevah heard of no aloo gobi. Is it something you put on a hamburger?”

In the meantime, Anoop is sort of an antidote to Sanjaya mania. This time they have a Desi contestant who works hard, dresses conservatively (even a bit on the preppy side), and who plays within the lines of the show. Like Sanjaya, he also appears to have a huge reserve of fans as in I get hits for Anoop Desai and I barely mentioned him last week. This week the judges anointed him an actual serious contestant for his version of Willie Nelson’s “Always on My Mind.”

Anoop was genuinely good as in listenable. Good enough to keep this guy around for a couple weeks, quite likely. He faces two significant issues. His voice is very nice, but no one claims that it’s “Oh wow, that guy has an instrument!” Second, there’s nothing that unique about Anoop’s approach to the music. Actually, one can say that about two thirds of the singers who make the final. Remember Phil Stacy, Vonzell Solomon, Anthony Federov? All three of them went very deep into the competition. There’s a lot to be said for being, fun, likeable, respectful, and sharing an ethnicity with like a billion people who do the tech support for all the cell phone companies :}

Anyway, if Jim Reeves was big in India, why can’t Anoop Desai be big doing country music on Fox TV? He just took a country ballad straight on and I think that’s what made the performance work so well. Anoop finally let go of “gotta perform” (to me Beat It was sort of Sanjaya like in that sense) and he just sang. That he did it in a more or less unexpected genre (assuming you think he’s Indian first not a Carolina guy first) made it all the more effective. In the meantime, have the judges ever said Sanjaya’s name in Anoop’s presence?

Three seasons ago, Chris Daughtry made himself a serious contender by going alt.rock with Johnny Cash’s Walk the Line. He’s a very different performer, but Adam Lambert tried to follow with his attempt to cut into Anoop Desai’s demographic with a South Asian take on Ring of Fire. Once I got over the Chris Daughtry playbook thing, I actually enjoyed it for being affected, pretentious, and pure camp (It also verged on the Sanjaya playbook as well). When he hit the falsetto section, I wasn’t sure if Adam Lambert was laughing at or attempting to laugh with the show. I don’t know how it’ll affect the voting, but the show’s supposed to be fun and this was fun, something to actually talk about. Who knew that Man in Black had alternate interpretations?

Still, the highlight with Adam Lambert was Randy Travis. It was fascinating to watch two gay men on completely different sides of the flamboyance divide. To Randy, you deal with being gay by suddenly marrying your female manager whose 19 years older than you after you get arrested for “loitering”. To Adam, you just let America know that you don’t give a “S*#$” about what they think. I know, the whole gay thing with Randy is controversial and that he strongly denies the speculation about his sexuality, but if you ever asked me about proof his obvious discomfort with Adam might have been as good as any. It was like, I don’t want America to think that I find being around this Edward Scissorhands guy comfortable in any way. Not sure, I’ve ever seen a mentor on the show work so hard to distance himself from a contestant. Maybe they’ll get Elton John or Barry Manilow to mentor again and if Adam’s still around we can see how they respond to him.

Lil Rounds decided to do straight up country and the judges hated her for it. I’m not sure why so many of the guys crossed genders for country night. It seemed like one did Martina Mcbride and two did Carrie Underwood. Maybe it was to “honor” Randy Travis in some way? btw One of the measures of really winning American Idol is that the contestants start covering your songs. They do Carrie Underwood, Kelly Clarkson, Chris Daughtry, and Clay Aiken. No one covers Taylor Hicks or Jordin Sparks. That said, I guess I’m officially in the I don’t get Danny Gokey camp. It might just be me, but if you’re a church music director and your wife just died, shouldn’t you be able to get a little more feeling into a song like Jesus Take the Wheel? Personally, I find the song absurd even when Carrie Underwood sings it, but I find that Danny Gokey sings with passion without bringing out the passion in the song/music itself. The really good singers do the latter. The "passion" bit shouldn't sound the same in every song. Sorry, Paula!

I haven’t watched the show obsessively this year, but I feel like I’ve known Megan Joy so long that I remember her back when she was Megan Corkery. Some say the key to success in pop music is the business of walking the tightrope between the familiar and the novel. Megan Joy appears to understand that. She has a very mainstream look interrupted by a sleeve of tattoos, something that works for her but didn’t work for Carly Smithson (though she may not last as long as Carly did). She mentions that she was influenced by Bjork. I also hear some of the things that Michelle Shocked would do with her vocals sometimes. Even though she had the flu, I thought she did the tightrope thing very well on Patsy Cline’s Walkin After Midnight. I keep waiting for her thing to wear thin and thought that had happened last week. Now, I’m not so sure.

On the other end, I’m not sure what kind of mind games the judges are playing with Alexis Grace with the whole “this is the kind of singer we think you should be” bit, but it seems to be messing with her head. Somehow, this seemed worse than Paula’s bit of “We loved the piano” now “I hate the piano” thing with Scott Mcintyre. Btw, I’m pretty sure that the arguments between Paula, Kara, and Simon this season are more or less scripted. Maybe, it’s because Alexis Grace has the whole waif look thing down, but it made me want to cry. I’m not saying that her Jolene was compelling in any way. It’s just that she felt almost written off. She maybe should have changed the name of the song to Allison and instead of it being about stealing men, it could have been about having a better voice and more grit and stealing judges.

I did do some Googling after last Wednesday and I was a little surprised to learn that Allison Iraheta already won a recording contract and fifty thousand dollars through Quinceanera on the Telemundo network. So is it you can’t have a current recording contract in English? She’s still really good. The fascinating thing to me is that she appeared to take Blame It On Your Heart straight on, yet at the risk of sounding like Randy, she stayed very distinctive. It’s not like I think Allison Iraheta should sing country music, but she seems to commit to her material in way that the older performers on the show can’t. It helps that she has a really strong voice, but it is interesting to see a young performer who’s not trying to sound like other people. As good as David Archuleta was musically, I wouldn’t say I could ever pin down a long term musical identity with his performances. There’s something much more personal about Allison Iraheta’s vocals that goes beyond just being loud and intense. Anyway, if anyone won the benefit from a theme that doesn’t suit you prize last night, it was Allison.

I did think that Matt Giraud sounded much better this week. I did notice that the judges worked very hard to justify giving wild cards to Anoop and Matt. I suspect they’d rather not have all four of their choices go down in the first three shows. In the meantime, Kara got to let America know that she’s a size queen by commenting on So Small.

Kris Allen did fine with Garth Brooks, it’s just that eight seasons in I’ve seen the tactic a few times before. Iirc Ace Young did the same sensitive country guy schtick with Tonight I Wanna Cry a few seasons ago and Chris Richardson did something similar with um Tonight I Wanna Cry. That, however, was far preferable to Michael Sarver’s good ole boy act at the beginning of the show. First his mouthful of Garth Brooks was forgettable enough, but that whole, “I’m big, I’m tough, I work on an oil rig, and I don’t pay attention to criticism” thing didn’t play well with me. How do I put this? Michael was pandering. If Michael Sarver got in a real fight say with Adam Lambert, I could tell you in advance which of the two is going to go running and which would stay in the Ring of Fire fingernail polish and all. You want to talk about just having fun? That would be fun.
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A Number One Hit in Norway (American Idol 8 round of 13)

2009-03-13T18:48:00.000-07:00

I came home from the gym (my wife got tired of seeing me watch America’s Biggest Loser and telling her “See Dear, I’m not that bad….yet. so she got me a gym membership for Christmas0 just in time for Scott Mcintyre to sing in some piano bar that seats four thousand people and multiple tv cameras. About a month ago, we made the switch to HDTV after I convinced my wife that it would be patriotic to stimulate the economy by buying a Japanese television. Scott made his way through Keep the Faith ably enough and part way through I’m almost convinced that he’s Brooke White’s visually-impaired cousin. Where Brooke was the blonde leading the bland, Scott is more or less the blind leading the bland. We’re just not talking Stevie Wonder, Ray Charles, Stevie Ray Vaughn here. The guy’s really earnest, professional enough, and if he’s ever had a memorable performance during his Idol run, I guess I missed it. He’s in the finals mostly because he has a good back story. The show’s had any number of heaing-impaired contestants in the past (not to mention one of the judges), but he’s Idol’s first visually-impaired finalist.

He does his thing, even had to dance a little bit, and Ryan and the judges get to talk about how inspiring it all is. If you haven’t noticed, while last season was the year of the ringer, this season it’s all about the back story. In addition to Scott we’ve got young mothers, a guy whose wife died just before Idol Auditions (in a couple years, I’m sure someone will be accused of killing his or her mate just to get through to Hollywood), a guy who works on an oil rig, a guy who was photographed kissing another guy, a hair-color challenged Hispanic teenager who got her start singing in a Spanish-speaking shopping mall, and well you get the idea. They’ve got all these great stories to tell maybe for some American Idol themed movie (I forgot, they tried that one already), but I’ve got to tell you the soundtrack’s going to be pretty thin.

Maybe I’ve just been through too many seasons of the show, but it’s gotten to the point where every contestant has some analogue from some other season. Michael Sarver appears to be some clone of Matt Rogers. Lil Rounds seems to be George Huff’s sister. Megan Corkery was grafted from Carly Smithson and Carmen Rasmussen. Matt Giraud’s never been spotted in the same place with Chris Richardson. Say what you want about Scott Savol, but he was distinctive and memorable. Yes, I hated Constantine, Kevin Covais, Amanda Overmyer, and Jasmine Trias, but they were at least individual enough as performers that they didn’t just feel like this endless blur of ninety second performances. I’ve even missed a few installments of the semi-finals this year, but when I tuned into the final 13 (right now it looks like a stupid idea since they have maybe 4 singers who anyone might remember) I felt no sense of having missed anything.

To me, the formula for reviving Idol has always been simple. It has nothing to do with how they pick semi-finalists or judge’s rescuing favorites mid-finals or adding some benefit show called Idol Cares in the middle of the season. The music itself needs to be exciting. Last year, they tried to address that by bringing in performers with more professional experience. I thought the general level of the final 12 was better, but they also managed to suck all the personality out of the show by not letting the performers freelance in their dismounts with Ryan or to a certain extent in the actual performances. There was nothing like Nadia Turner showing up in a Mohawk, Kellie Pickler trying to sing Bohemian Rhapsody, or Katharine Mcphee nearly coming out of her dress then more or less babbling during her chat with Ryan. I did have several people comment about David Archuleta having a magical voice, but while the level of the music was higher there just weren’t many performances that felt all that magical. Some people talk about David Cook’s Billie Jean and Hello, but I have to confess I barely think of those when I try to remember really good musical moments on the show.

Does Idol 8 have anyone would really could be a star? I simply just don’t know. To be honest, it sort of reminds me of Season 6 (Jordin Sparks) where none of the finalists generated much excitement despite the presence of one of the better singers the show has ever had in Melinda Doolittle.

I would say that the first show of this year’s finals had probably five memorable moments and oddly enough two of them involved Scott Mcintyre. First, Simon probably coined his own showbiz epitaph, “It’s fine being artistic, just not on this show.” Second, there was this wonderfully whacky moment where they tried to let Scott know that Siedah Garrett, the composer of perhaps the most obscure song in the entire Michael Jackson catalogue was in the audience. The judges point in the direction of Siedah Garrett. Apparently they momentarily forgot that Scott had no way of seeing her anyway (just a bit awkward). Making matters worse, the camera man couldn’t find her either. It was “Hey look everyone, here’s the composer of that song none of you have ever heard of!”

Simon later introduced tv chef, Gordon Ramsay, and it was an almost comparable moment. I first went, “Is that the prime minister of England (Gordon Brown)?” Maybe Jason Mesnick can be a guest judge this season to counter the Melissa Rycroft on Dancing with the Stars thing? If you remember, he picked Molly Malaney in that show’s singing contest which proved to be America’s first hint that something wasn’t on the level with that season.

For me the one actually memorable musical moment of the Round of 13 came from Adam Lambert. For one, he appeared to know how to command the stage and the song rather than just battling to get through the thing. Kara made a good point during the show about (I think it was Kara, I try so hard to blot anything she says or does out of consciousness) establishing a level with a performance and maintaining it. My main criticism of Danny Gokey was he established it with the first few bars of Pretty Young Thing then I simply didn’t remember any of the rest. I would say that sexual ambiguity is a big part of pulling off a song like Black or White,it’s one of the reasons that Michael Jackson’s so hard for singers to cover. Adam Lambert may have succeeded at least partly because he was comfortable going there as a performer and it’s very much a part of his charm.
I do think the judges got a tad carried away about Adam Lambert. In fact, I don’t know what to say about Paula sending him to the finals along with Danny Gokey. Nonetheless, his was the one performance that I paid attention to throughout. I think the fascinating thing about the guy as a performer is that he tightropes between Butch and Queen really effectively (whatever his actual preferences) and that really is sort of unique and new. I know that Lou Reed, David Bowie, and Michael Jackson have all played with projecting gender ambiguity, but Adam Lambert’s way of brining it off is unquestionably his own. The big question is how the Idol voting demographic will react over the long term. I’m sure he’ll have rabid fans early, but as you get into the later rounds you have to get votes from the great middle middle and this was a show that couldn’t quite buy into a rocker until it got David Cook who had the demeanor of the rock guy next door.

I do have to congratulate the show. They got through two hours of Michael Jackson covers without one slip up about either plastic surgeries or little boys.

I don’t know what her shelf life on the show will be, but I really did like Allison Iraheta, Give It To Me. In fact, I think she may be the best female rocker the show’s had yet. She has a huge voice, projects a sort of androgynous un-tamed quality (one of my issues with the likes of Gina Glocksen and Amanda Overmyer was the whole “out there” quality never felt all that genuine with either of them), and unlike other teen contestants she seemed to have a strong identity as a performer. Okay, I loved the footage of her singing in that furniture mall.

Finally, the judges’ wild card thing appears to have backfired in a big way. Jorgay (copyright Beckeye) and Jasmine were the first two voted off the island, or in Jorgay Nunez’s case back to the island where he can go help Tatianna learn a second song. It was the judges who “saved” Anoop Desai. Now they’re telling him to “beat it”. I’d have to say that Matt Giraud sounded like he was playing in the same level piano bar as Scott Mcintyre. Maybe he’ll last a while depending on how he splits votes with Kris Allen, but I don’t see him as a serious contender for America’s dwindling entertainment dollars.

A final self-indulgent personal note. Several of my friends have asked me about my plans to cover Idol this year. I had said that I would decide once they started the finals. Now that the finals have started, I have to say I’m still not sure. It’s going to need some sort of Reality Show Viagra and unless whatever they did takes a while to kick in, this season’s on the limp side so far. As Randy Jackson put it, “I always say the same shit every day, so I’m just going to say it.”

This is my measure. They did 13 Michael Jackson covers last night and I don’t know that any of them, with the possible exception of Adam Lambert, approached David Cook’s Billie Jean much less the one time King of Pop himself. At least they could have had Alexis Grace dress up as Bubbles or something.
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In The Silence of This Room

2009-03-12T10:04:00.000-07:00

This is a self-plug. I am proud to have my poems about my two grandmothers included in this excellent collection.

Announcing:
In the Silence of this Room

International authors share their thoughts
in poetry and prose, linked by
global issues that haunt us all.

A cross-cultural collection of writings that through poetry, narrative, and photos grapple with some of the most pressing issues of the world we live in: war, poverty, health care, environment, family, beauty, and lastly--the ever-present need to connect--love.

The book represents the efforts of dedicated artists around the globe, some who have been nominated or awarded literary prizes, to express a personal vision. Many of the writers here have experienced in some way the terrors of war and poverty, the lack of adequate medical care, and oppression. For them, this book represents both the vision of the world as it is, and also, what it can be. It also expresses the belief that no matter our culture or belief, no matter what distance separates us-- we are more similar than not. We are all very much human. --Kyle Hemmings

Publishers
Grey Sparrow Press
Diane Smith
St. Paul, Minnesota
Email: DianePSmith@comcast.net

238 pages
$19.98 (US)

Authors and Artists featured:

SITA BHASKAR was born in India and now lives in Madison, Wisconsin. She is the author of Shielding Her Modesty; a collection of short stories set on both sides of the globe. Her reviewers mention “Shades of R.K. Narayan.” Sita’s short stories have been published in Crab Orchard Review, GSU Review, Desilit Magazine and TQR Stories. She received an Honorable Mention in Washington Post Magazine’s fiction contest for her story, “Touch of Wrinkled Skin” and placed as a finalist for her story, “Safety in These Times,” with the Thomas Wolfe Literary Competition conducted by the North Carolina Writers’ Network. She has included this story in the anthology. Set either in India or America or the space in-between where immigrants resist the tug and pull of both sides, Sita calls her stories ‘a slice of life.’

ALEX BRAVERMAN was born in Lithuania in 1955, resided in Israel, South Africa, and now lives in Texas. Alex is a mathematician by profession, who finally abandoned this exciting career for the benefit of literature and the art of photography. His stories appeared in publications around the world: USA, Israel, South Africa, Ireland, and India. Alex’s photographs are exhibited in New York and Texas. He is currently working on a book dedicated to photography of modern dance. Our photographic art for the cover was taken by Alex Braverman.

A. JEFFERSON BROWN was born in the United States, a southern boy with a penchant for the darker side of writing. He is a member of Cavender’s “Terrible Twelve” with Horror Library and has been published in Our Shadows Speak and Dark Distortions, among others. He is married with two children. Life enjoys him as much as he enjoys it.

RAQUEL CHALFI was born in Tel-Aviv where she lives and works. She studied at Hebrew University, at Berkeley University, and at the American Film Institute. She worked for Israeli radio and television as writer-director-producer, and has taught film at Tel Aviv University. She has published eight volumes of poetry, and is the recipient of numerous awards for her poetry as well as for her work in theater, radio and film. Her collected poems, Solar Plexus, Poems 1975-1999, appeared in 2002; in 2006 she received the Bialik Award for poetry as well as the Israeli Prime Minister's Prize for Hebrew Writers, the Ashman Prize 1999. Most recently, her work has appeared in the American Poetry Review, Zoland Annual, Metamorphoses, and in the anthology Poets on the Edge –An Anthology of Contemporary Hebrew Poetry (SUNY Press, 2008).

Poet Chalfi’s translator, TSIPI KELLER was born in Prague, raised in Israel, and has been living in the U.S. since 1974. She is the recipient of several literary awards, including a National Endowment for the Arts Translation Fellowship, CAPS and NYFA awards in fiction, and an Armand G. Erpf award from Columbia University. Her translation of Dan Pagis’s posthumous collection, Last Poems, was published by The Quarterly Review of Literature (1993), and her translation of Irit Katzir’s posthumous collection, And I Wrote Poems, was published by Carmel, Israel (2000). Her recent translation collections are: Poets on the Edge – An Anthology of Contemporary Hebrew Poetry (SUNY Press, 2008); and The Hymns of Job & Other Poems (BOA Editions, 2008).

L. MCKENNA DONOVAN was born in the United States. She has been an editor, writer and writing coach for eighteen years. Although she works freelance writing for various companies and teaches writing courses on “style” and “creative brainstorming,” her current focus is the completion of her Master’s in Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Goddard College in Vermont. Her master’s thesis is the
first volume of a four-volume, cross-genre novel series. While her passion is writing long fiction, she takes occasional breaks to write vignettes in the flash and short story forms. She writes from her home in the Smoky Mountains of western North Carolina.

MARIE LYNAM FITZPATRICK was born in Ireland. She lives and works in the Irish Republic. Marie is a mother and writer.

“Under Christian Crosses” was reprinted from The Binnacle at the University of Maine at Machias, 2006.

MARKO FONG is a fourth generation Chinese-American who was born, raised and lives in Northern California. He never learned to speak Chinese and has never been to China. He recently completed a collection of short stories about the last Chinatown in America, Paper Ghosts, and set it in a town that never existed. It was once one of his dreams to dunk a basketball.

CLEVELAND W. GIBSON was born in colonial India in an atmosphere of color, mystery and intrigue. In the United Kingdom he has worked for many major companies as well as the government. He’s been involved with charity work, trained as a Life Guard and was a Road Race Director for over ten years. Since taking up writing he’s published over 200 short stories, poems, articles in over eighty-five countries. Moondust represents his first surreal book of classic
short stories, with a fantasy novel, Billabongo, to follow soon. He’s married with one son, teaches ESOL and helps novice writers. Contact him on URL: http://linktiles.com?tile=641

HANNATU GREEN: Born in Nigeria and lives in the United States. Hannatu is a born storyteller. She is married with eight children and has been sharing her folk tales with them all her life, as well as the schools and community centers in Minnesota. Hannatu comes from a large extended family with a strong sense of responsibility and a proud African heritage. She noted, "My family were pioneers in everything, the first from my village to embrace western education, medicine and so much more."

JEFF HAAS was born in the United States, received a BA in English Language and Literature from the University of Chicago, and works as a technical writer in Atlanta. He made his first professional sale of a short story called “Cacophony of the Spheres” to Jim Baen’s Universe in 2008, and has published over thirty stories online and in print. “Spin Degrees of Freedom,” originally published on Eclectica, was named a Million Writers Award notable story of the year by StorySouth, and “Cacophony of the Spheres” and “Immortality Street” were selected as Editor’s Choices by Bewildering Stories. Jeff is currently working on a novel called Sugarville, a psychological thriller about a man whose faith is tested when he becomes the legal guardian of his troubled nephew.

SUE HAIGH spent most of her life on the north-east coast of Scotland. She now lives and writes deep underground in a cave-house in the Loire valley, France. Stories from her Scottish collection, The Snow Lazarus, have been published by Dundee Women and Books (UK), Chistell Publishing, PA (USA), Solander (UK) and Cadenza Magazine (UK). “Dreams of Home” was named as a winner in the 2008 Cadenza Magazine Open Short Story Competition, under the title of “The Garden.”

Sue won the Scottish Women’s Short Story Competition in 2002, second prize in the 2008 8th Annual Chistell Contest and third prize in the 2008 Cadenza competition. Two of her short stories were also short-listed and three long-listed in the 2007 Blinking Eye competition. Her work has also appeared in Myslexia (UK).

She has also written a series of short stories for children, Stories from a Cave, set in and around her house in France, as well as two plays for radio. Sue studied in Bristol, Dundee, Paris and Cologne and has worked as a lecturer in languages, a counsellor and a clinical aromatherapist. She is currently working on the final chapters of her novel, Missing Words, which is set in Germany and Scotland. This version of The Dream-Weaver's Son was work-shopped on Zoetrope, as was Dreams of Home. She is also engaged in research for her next novel, set in medieval Bruges.

ROBERT HAMPTON was born in the United States. Hampton accelerated his work in poetry the past ten years on a work-in-progress; “Ode to An Intelligent Woman.” The poetry offered for this anthology is part of that larger work. He’s published a few short stories in the seventies and some poetry in the ’80s and ’90s. He holds an M.A. in English. Robert has scaled down a career in business consulting and communications to special projects. He believes social, economic and political problems may be solved through a creative and artistic strategic and logistical approach instead of through a fragmentary and analytical approach. Hampton’s cultural heritage includes Welsh, Scottish, Irish, Bavarian and “according to my mother, Chickasaw Native American. My maternal relatives are Cherokee.”

ALAMGIR HASHMI was born in Pakistan. He has published eleven books of poetry and several volumes of literary criticism in the United States, England, Australia, Canada, Pakistan, India and other counties. He has won a number of awards and honors, and his work has been translated into several European and Asian languages. For over three decades he has taught in European, Asian, and U.S. Universities, as Professor of English and Comparative Literature. Although he has little faith in the determinants of birth or death as definitions of cultural life, he cares for people and places. He lived and taught in Cambridge, MA before moving overseas. He has also taught down south and
on the West Coast. He began writing at the ripe old age of eleven and has not stopped since. Currently, he lives in Islamabad, Pakistan.

©Kashmir 1987 was reprinted from Inland and Other Poems by Alamgir Hashmi (Islamabad: Gulmohar Press, 1988), reprinted here with the author’s permission.

KYLE HEMMINGS: was born in the United States and holds an MFA in creative writing from National University, California. His stories and poems have been published in Verb Sap, Insolent Rudder, Night Train, Apple Valley Review, Off-Course Literary Review, Rose and Thorn, and others. His work gravitates towards the experimental and edgy. Kyle confides his biggest aspiration is to draw like R. Crumb and loves the work of Lynda Barry as well. His story "Is There Life on Mars," was nominated for both a Pushcart and a StorySouth Million Writers award.

FRANK J. HUTTON: Assistant Editor, was born in the United States. Frank is a large format field photographer and fine art printer. His photographic effort centers upon artifacts of cultural history that are vanishing under the rigor of time and the wilderness. His work has been shown in galleries and exhibitions around the Great Lakes. Frank is also an editor of fiction and an author, with essays published in newsprint and works of fiction having appeared in various places, under a variety of pseudonyms.

SHANNA KARELLA was born and raised on a rural Alaskan homestead. Shanna continues to reside in Fairbanks where she makes her living coordinating a social outreach ministry, as a desktop publisher and doing occasional septic system percolation tests. She is a strong advocate of social justice activism and cultural understanding based on the inherent dignity and worth of the human person. Shanna’s poetry and essays have been published in print by local press,
Ink Pot and The Ester Republic, as well as online at Right Hand Pointing and The Hiss Quarterly.

CAPTAIN KATHERINE ELIZABETH KENNEDY was born and raised on a farm in Clear Lake, Iowa. BS: Systems Engineering, West Point, MS: Strategic Intelligence, American Military University. Completing a Master’s degree in psychology. Katie served in Iraq for two deployments and is writing a book relating to her experiences as the only Caucasian female on an Iraqi base in the Northern part of the country. She recently left active duty, currently serving her country in the reserves.

TIFFANY LARSEN (1980- present) was born and grew up in the rural community of Clear Lake, Iowa. She graduated from Carleton College, Northfield, MN, in 2003 with a major in geology. In between undergraduate and graduate school, Tiffany spent her time exploring European cultures through travel, practice in multiple artistic media, and working for a satellite imaging company. Outdoor recreational activities serve as a connection to nature, balancing Tiffany’s time indoors doing schoolwork. She will complete a Master’s of Geology at the University of Vermont in the spring of ‘09.

KULVINDER SINGH MATHARU was born in Tanzania. His parents moved to the UK when he was only two years old. His early childhood revolved around the wonders of science and the beauty of this planet. With his keen interest in electronics, it was only natural he received a bachelor’s degree in electrical and electronic engineering and forged a successful career in telecommunications. Now with a steady income, Kulvinder was able to pursue his interests in travelling which, in turn, ignited a dormant need to capture the places he had visited. Initially using an affordable camera with full manual control, he has immersed himself into the world of photography with an online photographic portfolio. He provided two photographs of a Hmong village and the Mekong River.

ELSIE (STANWOOD) O’DAY was born in the United States and is a Maine native, She lives an hour’s drive from the Canadian border, in Cherryfield. Relatively new to writing, she is the author of poetry and short stories. Her poems, “Rainy Night Swim,” have appeared in the April edition of The Linnet’s Wings, two additional poems, “Winter Storm” and a Haiku: “Due North,” in the fall issue of Wolf Moon Journal. She favors disciplined poetry and writes sonnets as well as Haiku and prose poetry. She has two novels in process.

JAMES S. OPPENHEIM was born in Washington, D.C., raised in Montgomery County, Maryland, schooled in Oxford, Ohio and resident in half a dozen Maryland towns (and, for a summer, Jacksonville, Florida), Jim has published in Equus, The North American Review, The Washington Post and Firehouse Magazine, worked as managing editor of the University of Maryland graduate literary magazine, Ethos. He has also had a life in music, producing one album and playing venues from cabin porches in West Virginia to bars in Florida. James offered the lovely dove that graces the back of the book. Today finds him in Hagerstown, Maryland as a photographer, singer/songwriter, and the editor of a blog: Oppenheim Arts & Letters (commart.typepad.com)—devoted to the understanding of political conflicts and small wars, also art, culture, and language.

AJAY PRASANNAN was born and raised in the UK, where he currently works as a web designer and all-round IT troubleshooter. Regular trips to Kerala allow him to re-connect with his Indian roots and better understand the country he hopes to retire in.

IVAN GABRIEL REHOREK lives in Australia. As he noted, “I was born in the middle of the last century, in the middle of Europe in the middle of a river. That makes me a Gemini Earth Pig Mitsubishi with radiator ascendant, wow. My family is theatre people, writers, scientists, musicians and other disturbers of the peace. I breed saxophones (got four already) and on some nights, the moon comes in for a visit.

BILL FRANK ROBINSON was born near Raton, New Mexico. Billy Frank left school in ninth grade to work as a farm laborer. He joined the Air Force in 1950 for four years and spent one year in Korea as a medic in the war zone, three years at Los Angeles County Hospital in the emergency room, thirteen years as a mail carrier, seventeen years as a claims adjudicator for Social Security in San Francisco. He is retired and helping people with income taxes, Medicare, etc. He wrote a monthly serial for The Voice: a magazine based in Idaho, for thirty-six episodes. The serial was called “Archie Cleebo.”

DIANE SMITH, Editor, was born in the United States. Diane retired from child welfare and writes about the homeless, immigrants, the poor, healthcare, those who have little visibility or power in society. She has placed in international competition a few times. “Daniel” was reprinted from The Binnacle at the University of Machias in Maine, 2006 under the name of Lee Fuller.
TOWNSEND WALKER was born in Washington, DC. He now lives in San Francisco after sojourns in New York, Paris, London, and Rome. Townsend has been writing short stories since 2005; a dozen have been published. He has also published books and articles on foreign exchange, derivatives, and portfolio management; the products of a thirty-year career in finance. “Mort pour la France” first appeared in Raving Dove and “I Can’t Forget” first appeared in Penguin.

ANN WALTERS: a pen name, holds a PhD in physical anthropology and was born in the United States. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two young daughters. Her poetry has appeared in Poet Lore, Poetry International, Cadenza, Orbis, The Pedestal Magazine, and many others. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and was shortlisted for the 2007 LICHEN Tracking, a Serial Poet competition.

MIKE WOOF was born in Scotland. Mike is a full time journalist living and working in the United Kingdom. He confides he’s been to every continent on the planet, barring Antarctica. Mike lived and worked in West Africa for a couple of years and his stories are based on his time there. He mainly travels through Europe and the United States
these days. He noted, “A long time ago I was an engineer, but decided I didn’t like it. I write as a professional, then get home and write more, mainly fiction. I’ve got a non-fiction book released.”

NENG XIONG was born in Laos. She grew up in a Hmong Village (Meaung) and fled to Thailand when her Meaung was destroyed in war. She found sanctuary in the United States and became an American citizen. Neng, a widow, lives with her children in Minnesota; two are

attending college. Neng’s stories are true and stand as testimony to courage and strength.

KEN ZIMMERMAN keeps one foot and his left arm, up to the elbow, in the past. From his home in South Florida, he travels the area in a vintage Good Humor truck, fully restored; selling the ice cream treats we all grew up with more than 40 years ago. It's not unusual to find him at the plethora of art fairs and street festivals that pervade Palm Beach and Broward counties, although he specializes in corporate events and private parties. Add to that his collection of classic cars from that same era and you have a man who refuses to let go of a time when only scientists knew about cholesterol and nothing with wheels ran on unleaded gasoline.

His photographs of Tel Aviv are from a trip to Israel some twelve years ago.

For more on the Good Humor Man, visit Ken's website - www.thegoodhumorman.net

ANDRIJ ZIP was born in Saskatoon, Canada, is a graduate of the University of Saskatchewan. He lives and works in Gifu, Japan. Writing appears online and in dANDelion Magazine.

chancelucky

Dancing With Melissa Rycroft (DWTS 8 first round)

2009-03-11T12:23:00.000-07:00

Not long after saying she just wanted to lead a normal and private life, Melissa Rycroft has put herself in a position to pull off a rare triple. I don’t know that they keep records on this anywhere, but I’m fairly certain that no one’s ever won three network level reality shows. The Dallas wine saleswoman made her HDTV on Making the Team, a reality show built around auditions for the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. Despite having to fight off mono, she made the squad. More recently Melissa Rycroft got both the last ring and the final rose on ABC’s the Bachelor. As most of Bachelor America knows, she still somehow didn’t wind up getting the guy, Jason Mesnick, who dropped her on After The Final Rose in favor of one of her competitors, Molly Malaney. Given how it happened, some would argue that Melissa ultimately won by losing. This week Melissa Rycroft made her debut on ABC’s Dancing with the Stars as a replacement for the injured Nancy O’dell. After the show, O’dell indulged a self-referential moment by interviewing Melissaa about her experience as Nancy O’dell’s replacement (reality tv's version of Being John Malkovitch)

In the current scramble to figure out who did what to whom and why, better known as the remnants of Bachelor 13, it’s appeared that everyone but Mike Fleiss, the show’s producers, has supporters. I wouldn’t feel too bad for Fleiss, he wound up with ratings, attention, and presumably even more money to fund his ongoing terrorist assault on American culture.

There was no doubt where Dancing With the Stars stood on the matter. As soon as Tom Bergeron announced her, Melissa was cheered enthusiastically by the audience. Later in the show, she stood there in what appeared to be a giant blue net accessorized with a fabric bandaid that covered the tattoo on her lower back as she got to revel in the judges’ further trashing of Jason Mesnick. The high point was Bruno Tonioli, the show’s most flamboyant judge, making an L with his fingers and pointing it at Jason. The gesture brought even bigger applause from the audience and a rueful smile from Melissa who didn’t make any efforts to defend her former fiancé.

Melissa isn’t the first person to do a reality show crossover, but given that this one is Dancing with the”Stars”, I’d say the meaning of “star” is getting awfully blurry. When did being on reality shows make somebody a star? This season, Melissa isn’t the only reality show/star. Holly Madison, another late replacement, is mostly known as one of Hugh Hefner’s fake girlfriends on the Girl Next Door. Fwiw, Melissa’s dancing debut with Tony Dovolani not only succeeded in dance terms, it gave the show’s ratings a major boost. My guess is that she’s the show’s single most popular participant this season thus far.

I wouldn’t expect the show to pull Julia Roberts or Brad Pitt from their filming schedules for twelve weeks, but this edition verges on Dancing with the Whoever. Julianne Hough is much better known than her “star” partner Chuck Wickes. Other than being a little young for it, I should mention that Julianne Hough might have been an ideal Bachelorette. On DWTS, she’s been this amazingly charismatic combination of gracious, competitive, wholesome, and sexy that’s made her a huge favorite with the show’s fans. In fact, partnering with Julianne is probably worth three or four spots in the standings. Adam would have been dumped on the first night. Cody probably would have been gone by the third week. I also honestly don’t know that Helio was necessarily a better dancer than the Spice Girl, though actual dancing often just plays an incidental role in the show’s outcome. I would say that some people think that turning the show into Dancing with Your Boyfriend may have unleashed a bit of a backlash against Julianne. Maybe she will turn up on the Bachelor if the Country Music thing doesn’t work and the partnership with Chuck blows up mid- paso doble. If she did, as angry as I am at Fleiss et. al. , I’d probably watch.

Such is the tv power of Julianne Hough. There just aren’t that many tv women who can pull off sexy while still being hugely popular with female viewers. Oddly, Melissa Rycroft has the same thing going for her and I suspect that her inclusion on DWTS has cut into Julianne’s fan base in a big way.

Julianne Hough remains a terrific dancer though it’s been a while since she’s had a partner good enough to showcase it. In terms of her waltz with Chuck, I just don’t know either way. He’s not a klutz, but he’s not especially graceful either.

The other Dancing with the Whoever moment came with the introduction of Gilles Marini, the current points leader. His so called “breakthrough performance” was a few unclothed minutes in the movie version of Sex and the City and he seemed to get about five lines of dialogue, which put him well behind the three stars, Big, Jennifer Hudson, etc. on the cast list. You know how they have to put that stuff on juice cartons “5% actual fruit juice, sugar, artificial flavorings, etc.” I could see the FCC telling Dancing with the Stars that they have to put up a disclaimer “Stars includes reality show rejects, minor characters in only semi-succesful movie versions of cable series, stars from really obscure sports, and anyone who ever appeared on the Love Boat, this show contains at least 5% cast members whom you may actually have heard of though they may be made from concentrate.”

Of course, the show is already something of a “safe house” for reality show veterans. Three of the pros, Lacey, Dmitry, and Chelsie were promoted from So You Think You Can Dance. Two of the judges, Bruno and Carrie Ann managed to survive their own summer reality series in which they had some sort of Dancing Singing rotisserie league. It got about as much attention as your average rotisserie league too. What can I say about L’il Kim? Not only has she made appearances on several reality shows, I’m not sure she’d exist without them. She did, however, have the best line of the night, “I was in jail when I first saw DWTS and I told myself then that I wanted to be on this show one day.” I’d say at the rate they’re digging for celebrity contestants, it won’t be that long before we start getting “Stars” who came from either America’s Most Wanted or Cops.

This is, however part of what makes DWTS so watchable at times, it’s unrepentantly cheesy. Take for example Samantha Harris -Is there a worse interviewer anywhere on network television? I have it from a good source that the Bush administration had her third in line for White House press secretary when Dana Perino got the job. Should they ever add war criminals to the mix, Karl Rove would likely have been even more entertaining than Steve Wozniak. Tom Bergeron is also wondrously inoffensive. Who else could explain that Ty (Melissa Rycroft seems to have some sort of compulsion to be involved with people named "Ty") Murray’s wife Jewel (she was going to be a contestant until she got injured) was going to be singing on the first results show, without saying something like “And given the way Ty danced, we’re getting her on not a moment too soon.” In the meantime in an age when America is congratulating itself for having its first black President, no one has yet to comment on Lawrence Taylor’s role in shattering another racial myth by proving that not all black people can dance.

I do feel bad for Cody Linley. He got to be the youngest DWTS contestant for all of one season. Shawn Johnson will probably be one of the contenders, but at the back of our minds pretty much everyone is wondering how “sexy” do you want a 17 year old gymnast to look and act on a show like this? The women’s costumes have always been one of the show’s guilty pleasures. For some reason, Kim and Edyta appear on virtually every season without ever actually partnering one of the winners.

Whether this is Bachelor 13.5 or DWTS 8, injury edition, the show’s producers have found a way to revive interest in yet another Reality Show format at least for another season. Seeing whether Melissa Rycroft completes her reality show revenge for Molly Malaney’s cutting in on her last rose tango with Jason Mesnick has got to be more compelling than wondering every week whether or not they’ll finally vote Cloris Leachman off the show. It’s no accident that they found someone younger than Cody this season, but they didn’t come back with someone older than Cloris.

In the meantime, America gets to wonder if Melissa's parents will ever show up in the audience for this one.

chancelucky

Sirlinksalot
Dancing With the Stars

My Dinner at Trough in the Box

2009-03-09T18:17:00.001-07:00

One of the pleasures of being on the road is that I like to find off beat places to eat. I rarely if ever look for the fanciest place to eat and I don’t drink, so I love looking for places that are unique. For instance, I once found a drug store on the West Side of Chicago that served tamales from behind what had once been its soda fountain. A friend also took me to the original place that inspired that “Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, Pepsi” skit that John Belushi used to do. Until then, I’d never realized that the skit was an amazingly literal take on reality. In Wilmington, North Carolina, I found a restaurant that served both hummus and sushi where both were actually quite good. I still remember being beckoned into a barbeque shack by an old man in overalls in Tennessee. He sold meat by the pound and the customers were expected to bring their own containers. Of course, those are the good stories.

On the other end, there are the dozens-maybe hundreds- of doughnut shops that sell Chinese food on the side. My friend Teriyaki Donuts has a whole website devoted to them. In the west, most independent doughnut shops are owned by Southeast Asians, usually Cambodians. You make your doughnuts before dawn, then I think they figure you sell other stuff later in the day. The two grease smells do not belong together.
In Washington D.C., I once tried a Sudanese place that was half restaurant and half hang-out for local middle-aged Sudanese men. I’m not even sure they had a menu and I’m reasonably certain that no one there much cared about the food. Still, I figure even if the food’s not good, I at least get a story out of hitting one of these places instead of some place that has its logo on its cups and napkins and a national ad campaign.

Last week, I found myself in Willits, California, the Northern California town that happens to be where Sea Biscuit spent his last days (no I’m not implying that the restaurant I did choose tried to serve me remnants of famous race horses). I’d once stopped at a Thai restaurant there parked inside a cowboy bar, but this time I only had nine dollars on me because I was having a problem with my credit card. If you want to know something odd about me, I’ve never had a credit card. I use a debit card, which has the minor problem that you have to remember to put money back into the account being debited. I managed to go on a two day trip with no debit card and no checks. I’d lucked out because I stayed in a hotel the night before that had a complimentary dinner and breakfast. I was in Willits at dinner time, the next day, with nine dollars cash (thanks to checking all my pants pockets and the odd spots in my gadget bag for loose bills. I figured that Thai food in the cowboy bar was probably out at that price.

My choices were down to finding Mexican or some sort of hamburger stand. I picked what looked to be a Mexican restaurant on the side of the road just before the end of town heading south All the other shops in the strip mall were closed, a bad sign, and the parking lot there was mostly empty, but I had seen the lit neon that said “Mexican Food”.

I got inside and quickly discovered that it wasn’t a restaurant per se. It was a Mexican grocery that had a few tables. The lights in the grocery store were dimmed and they had maybe five folding tables each surrounded by an assortment of folding chairs. Each table was topped with a jar of salsa, that had chunks of green onion and other substances floating in it. That’s normally a good thing, but the chunks looked liked they’d been cut with either a very dull knife or a machete. Next to the perplexingly purplish salsa, they had a bottle of commercial hot sauce. I’m reasonably certain that this is almost always a bad sign in a Mexican restaurant. The other simple rule in Mexican restaurants is that the kitchen should smell good, like chiles, melting cheese, and chopped onions, with maybe just the scent of lard holding it all together. This one maybe got the lard part right and it was right next to the butcher counter. As I walked back to the bathroom, I noticed an older Mexican woman in a hairnet stirring refried beans that looked like they used glue as a major ingredient and some guy who looked like a NAFTA truckdriver tending the grill. Obviously, I’d been warned.

I got back to my table and took note of the only two other customers in the restaurant, an older man and woman who were working through something that looked like a combination plate. Both had an oversized can of Arizona Iced tea and they didn’t much seem to notice me other than the fact that as I walked by the woman gave me an unpleasant look. The couple clearly wasn’t Mexican. If anything, they looked like they came from some place in the hills where everyone is named Jethro and Daisy Mae. The man was wearing overalls, a checked wool shirt, and one of those baseball caps that has the name of a company that makes farm equipment on it instead of some team. That may have been the woman? Both were rounded, hairy, graying, and resembled trolls. They curved their bodies around their meals and talked rather loudly though one of them wasn’t terribly coherent. Willits is one of those places where there are a fair number of people who live in the hills only to appear in town periodically. I could vaguely smell perspiration even though my table was at least six feet away. My problem was that I’d already ordered a burrito, I had nine dollars, and I was really hungry.

My burrito came and just as I was about to take a bite, the woman let out an enormous belch. She then held out her arms and let out a breath. I looked up, but as far as she was concerned I wasn’t there. Seconds later, there was an even bigger belch followed by maybe four more. Mrs. Chancelucky would have said something if not the couple at least to the waiter. Either that or Mrs. Chancelucky would have left. Unfortunately, Mrs. Chancelucky isn’t with me and I’m very unassertive in my non-online self. Well, I’m also just curious at this point and have this stereotype in my head of hill people maybe carrying guns. Anyway, I stay on at least partly because I’m wondering just how weird this can get.

The husband starts talking, but he’s completely incoherent. What I can make out is something like “I don’t understand, what’s happening, babble, babble, grunt.” The woman says something like “Whoa, I don’t know what’s making me do this?”
She drinks some Arizona Iced tea and they somehow continue to eat. I, in the meantime, have somehow had a couple bites of my pastor burrito despite the ambiance. When you’re figuring that the people at the next table are either drunk or retarded or maybe both, those aren’t exactly good choices.

A belch or two down the line, the woman comments that the man should not have gotten that drunk at the casino. It would have been a better night if they hadn’t had to leave. The only two growth industries in this part of California are the cultivation and sale of cannabis and opening Indian casinos. The man responds with something between more babbling and crying. It does occur to me that this couple likely didn’t walk here. Once they leave, they’re going to get into some sort of motor vehicle. I start rooting for the woman to be driving and for it to be retarded not drunk.

At this point, I’m staring at my plate. I’m too afraid to look up at them. It’s one thing to read about eating with a group of trolls in say Harry Potter, it’s quite another to be in a restaurant and paying for the privilege. Believe it or not, I have had one weirder dining experience than this. I was once at a restaurant owned by a Korean couple in the Adams Morgan neighborhood in DC. I was the only paying customer along with an African-American man by the beverage refrigerator who turned out not to be a paying customer. The owner realized the man was trying to steal beers, so he grabbed him, made him sit down at a table, while he called the DC police. As this unfolded, he locked the door to the outside and a crowd of African-American folk began to line up around the glass window by the doorway until it wasn’t necessarily clear that anyone could leave the restaurant. They were yelling things like “Let my man go! You can’t arrest him. He can’t hold you captive like that.”

The DC police arrived and went to the owner to talk to him about whatever the problem was. The thief started protesting that “He had no idea why he was being kept there by the owner.” For some odd reason, the policemen turned their back on the detainee while they got the owner’s side of the story. In the meantime, I’m eating my not very good food while wondering if I’m about to die in a race riot of some kind. The alleged thief notices that the policemen are looking in the other direction and that they forgot to relock the door when they came in. He runs out the door and the crowd helps prevent the police from running after him. I wait a few minutes for the crowd to disperse, pay my check, but don’t tip, and leave. I felt terrible for couple who owned the place. They barely spoke English and had obviously unwisely gotten into the restaurant business in a place where they had no chance to make it work. That said, I never went back there again and I’m pretty sure it closed a few weeks later.

Back to Willits and the troll people. Eventually, they finish their meal. Mrs. Troll burps one more time then announces very loudly that she had to go tinkle. My waiter, who is probably all of nineteen and who has a pronounced accent, comes by to ask me, “How is everything?”

Even though it’s my chance to say something, I figure, “What’s the point?”

After several minutes Mrs. Troll gets back from wherever she tinkled. I’m hoping that it was the bathroom as opposed to the dark space between the butcher counter and the kitchen. She helps Mr. Troll get up out of his chair, not a small matter. They put on their coats. I glance at their table which contains the wreck of abandoned Mexican food not yet converted into alternate fuel by Mrs. Troll. They go to the counter to pay their bill where I’m amazed to hear Mrs. Troll tell the owner of the grocery store, “The food was excellent and we’ll be back soon.”

For a moment, I tell myself. “Mmmmm….Jason Mesnick and Molly Malaney really do look different when they’re not on tv. Just kidding there Jason and Molly. I hope your relationship works. Fwiw Mr. and Mrs. Troll seem perfectly happy.

So, here’s my confession. I actually ate my whole burrito and even tried their salsa. I had to pour the bottled hot sauce on too, but it’s amazing what being hungry and only having nine dollars can make you do. I even left a tip this time.
chancelucky

Jason Mesnick ATFR 9 (Bachelor 13 commentary)

2009-03-05T00:02:00.000-08:00

Jason Mesnick as he prepared for his appearance on Bachelor 13-Jerry Springer Edition

A white-haired Chris Harrison ambulates his walker towards the couch and makes the introduction, “As some of you know, this show has been following Jason Mesnick, the 13th Bachelor (and why does that number seem so significant?) and his ongoing quest for love. Tonight, we have Jason, his now grown son Ty “stick” Mesnick, and Jason's sixth wife (he's been married eight times but two of them he married and divorced twice) Sophia Hogan and maybe a phone call from her mother Stephanie.”

The audience applauds. (cut to commercial for Depends) a note appears on screen. Phone call with Stephanie Hogan was cut after the sponsorship deal with cell phone company fell through.

Chris Harrison voiceover, “There have been seventy three seasons of the Bachelor at this point and twelve of the Bachelorette and we've had the pleasure of seeing three couples meet, fall in love, marry, and in one case raise a family together. We'll be checking in a bit later with Trista and Ryan Sutter who have some special news about how at age 62 Trista, our first Bachelorette, has found a way to have a ninth child through new technology from one of this show's sponsors.”

As the voiceover runs, a young man with a five o'clock shadow and a receding hairline sits on the couch across from Chris.

C: As many of you know, this was Bachelor 70, our first second generation Bachelor, Tyler “stick” Mesnick. How are you doing Ty?”

T: Yo, Chris

C: Ty, I now we're all anxious to talk to you tonight, but first let's took at the journey that got you to the couch.

(A montage of videos comes on from Ty's first appearances during Bachelorette 4 and Bachelor 13. A closeup of Deanna Pappas comes on)

T: Bitch!

C: For those of you who don't know, that was Bachelorette 4, Deanna Pappas, who last year was elected Governor of Idaho. Some are already saying that she's the next Sarah Palin.That's at least partly because they had to tell her where Idaho was before she filed for the primary, but Governor Pappas is the first Bachelorette to hold statewide office in America's first Reality-based state where all couples must marry based on the things they really want, not just the excitement.

(the montage moves on to Ty's Dad Jason's season)

T: I love you Melissa Rycroft! I'm sorry my Dad was a bastard. I still remember you. Baaah, Baaah.

C: As many of you know Melissa married a year after her appearance on the Bachelor and her son Mike recently became the first male Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader. Melissa goes to every one of his games.

T: Ah-Ah Chooo! (laughs happily)

C: You remember Ty, as the Bachelor had one of the more unusual home visits when he brought his final two choices to meet his Mother Hillary then had a meeting with his father Jason and all five of his stepmothers. Before the final rose ceremony, as almost all of America knows, Jason Mesnick ran off with the young woman who Ty had chosen to be one of his final 2 choices, Sophia Hogan. Up to then, Bachelor fans had been looking forward to the possible first marriage of two second generation veterans of our show.

T: F*($##($* A)((*&le.

C: Let's take a look at how Ty found out. Because of the very emotional nature of that moment, our producers moved it to a closed set, though they televised it afterwards anyway. After they had a chance to edit it to heighten the drama in any way they could.

A videotape plays: A completely bald 350 pound Jason Mesnick in a bad golf outfit comes up in what appears to be the private dining room of a restaurant. Ty sits across from him.

J: Ty, you know I've always made decisions on what's best for us as a family.

T: Yeah, right Dad. You used me as a chick magnet for all seven marriages.

J: Would it be right for me to be unhappy?

T: Would it maybe be okay if you meant anything you said for a change? Like, when you tell anyone that you love them forever or that this is our new family....

J: I know you're hurt and I don't blame you. It hurts me almost as much.

T: Wow, that sure makes me feel good. I hope I start feeling unbearable, torture level pain, pain so extreme that even heroin doesn't take off the edge.

J: Remember way back when I was the Bachelor....I told America how much I loved Sophia and how special she was. How she made me want to be a better father. I even compared her to you.

T: Not really. Don't you remember, I was three years old at the time.

J: Well, it's just that I never stopped loving Sophia. I couldn't get her out of my mind.

T: Dad, this is sick. You're 28 years older than she is. I was dating her. You dated her mother.

J: Well, it's not like I ever really dated Stephanie. I mean there weren't any tents or fantasy suites. How many times have I told you that everything I did, I did for you, for our happiness.

T: Oh my God! Too much information. For twelve years, all the way through high school, kids used to play the youtube of you in the fantasy suite on their cell phones whenever I came in the room.

J: Son, I'm just following my heart. Can you blame me for following my heart?

C: Ty, what do you have to say to that?

T: It makes me want to kick his ass is what I have to say to that (Ty stands up and moves towards Jason) You know how embarrassing it was to have a dad who did the first crossover between the Bachelor and America's Biggest Loser?

J: (starts to giggle) This is so amazing!

Ty lands a punch to his father's face then completely loses control.

T: She was my girlfriend Dad. Sophia was my girlfriend......I don't care that you had a special bond....We had the greatest date at Lego Land together.

He begins to pummel his father until the producers interrupt for a Viagra commercial followed by a pain reliever ad.

Cut back: Chris is now on the couch with a very battered Jason Mesnick. Sophia Hogan Mesnick sits on the couch next to him.

C: Jason, we understand that out of love for your son, you're declining to press charges against Ty Stick.

J: That's right Chris.

C: (turns to audience) Isn't Jason a great guy?

Audience applauds loudly. Sophia Hogan Mesnick squeezes Jason. He winces then smiles.

S: Don't you just love this man? He had me from the moment he broke out that Lego condom on our first romantic date.

C: We did ask Ty to stay for this segment but he understandably declined the show's offer. He did send a note (actually written by our producers) wishing his father and Sophia, well.

J: Chris, you know what would be really great. My mother in law, Stephanie, is still single and she really thought Ty was amazing. You saw her during the home visit. She was so thrilled about him. I'm hoping when things settle down that maybe we can get my son and mother in law together. Maybe the four of us could double date.

C: So, you're not mad at Ty for beating you down on ATFR 8?

J: I understand that he's hurt. I just wish I could make him feel a little bit better. It really does break my heart to see him like that. He's always been just the greatest son. I can't count the number of women who fell for that whole single dad thing.

C: Wow. Sophia, how's it been for you. We thought on the show that you had real feelings for Ty Mesnick.

S: I did Chris. Every bit of it was real. I meant everything I said and it was all real. That's why I love Jason. He's so sincere, even when he breaks his most heartfelt promises.

The music cues up.

C: I know some out there think that some of the twists our stories take have been scripted. I assure you that's just not the case. But, we have a little surprise tonight.

An ankle with prominent varicose veins slips out from behind the screen stage right. You can see the hem of a purple dress.

C: America, you remember Molly Malaney!

J: Who?

C: Jason, you were together with her for almost four months. You remember, she was the woman you were dating before you declared your love for Jillian Harris during the last chance dates on her season as Bachelorette 5? Jillian spat in your face....

J: Actually, I don't Chris. I have a hard enough time remembering the ones I actually married.....

C: Jason, that's actually not that funny.

J: Just being real. This show was very good to me. I even wrote a rap song about it. Do you want to hear it?

S: It's so funny. He sang it for me on our first date in the blimp after the oysters.

The audience applauds even more loudly. A woman shouts “We love you Jason”

A dove drops out of the studio ceiling and lands at Jason's feet.

C: Jason, does that refresh your memory at all? You remember Naomi your fourth wife who you murdered while rock climbing because you were following your heart?

J: Naomi? I thought she was the one who wound up marrying Reality Steve.

C: That was Meagan Parris and you never married her. (clears his throat) We need to bring Molly on.

J: Sure, go ahead, whatever! You want to know who was the best in bed of all of my wives. It was that Natalie Getz. Shannon Bair was pretty good too, but that threesome with the dog was just a little too much. Oh yeah, that was until I followed my heart with Susie here. I mean Sophia. I'm so glad that I went on the Bachelorette all those years ago, you wouldn't believe how many times I scored just for that. You know I was on TV so much talking about Ty, I never actually stayed home with Ty at all. Maybe, that's what started the resentment thing?

A shriek is heard off stage and someone throws a putter at Jason's head from the general direction of the ankle and the purple dress.

C: Whoa!

J: Oh, that Molly! I always said she was a poor sport. Hey, Molly. You want me to draw a picture of you now! (evil laugh) I got a young one here. Wanna see! Don't be mad....Didn't you get my e-mail about how the producers made me do it?

The curtain falls with a giant sign that says “Mike Fleiss Productions: We put the reality in romance.”

Crosscut to a gray-haired Brad Womack doing a 360 on a snowboard while eating a sandwich and taking off his shirt.

Chris Harrison's blog
chancelucky
Buddy TV Bachelor page
Sirlinksalot
Bachelorette

An Emotional Freak Show (Bachelor 13 final 2)

2009-03-03T15:50:00.000-08:00

For the last two months, Mrs. Chancelucky and I had a standing date to watch the final episode of this season of the Bachelor together. I had told her that was the one thing I wanted to do on March 2 and couldn’t imagine watching it with anyone else. It was especially important to me because it was our daughter who had gotten us to watch the show in the first place. It’s just that when I got the remote control last night, something had changed. I just didn’t feel the same way about the show that we’d loved for so many seasons. What was I supposed to do, keep watching the show out of some sense of obligation even though my heart was telling me otherwise? Instead of watching the Bachelor, I decided to watch a new ABC show called the “Sociopath.”

The premiere was three hours long and I’d have to say for the first hour or so it looked and felt a lot like the Bachelor. The lead looked something like Jason Mesnick. There was even a bit where Deanna Pappas appeared. Supposedly, she flew all the way to New Zealand to ask the guy for another chance. The Jason character says, “No, I’m in love with two other women even though I proposed to you and pledged my undying love less than six months ago.”

Deanna says, “Hey, no biggie. In the meantime, don’t pick excitement over the things you really value and want in life.”

The Jason character says, “Sure, thanks for the advice,” then says something off camera about ‘Whoa, that Deanna sure packed on a few pounds. Was I lucky! Now I got me an actual Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader for a couple months, then it’s on to Walk of Shame girl.’
Up to this point, the Sociopath looked like your basic dating show. They had Melissa recapitulate all the things the Jason Mesnick character had done with other ladies on the Bachelor. First he tackles Ty on the beach a la Stephanie and Sophie. They then climb rocks just like he did with Naomi Crespo. A bit later they jump off a boat into ice cold water almost as if he were bungee jumping with Ms. Let’s Dot It Again. Along the way, Melissa was a bit too good at bonding with Ty. She even had a sheep joke ready when Jason supposedly surprised them with a lamb on the putting green. Given the state of Jason Mesnick’s reputation now, I’m wondering if he brought the lamb to her to introduce her to his other child. There’s a rumor that if the Sociopath does well in the ratings next season, they’re going to have the next one try to seduce a fourteen year old girl. Actually the producers are torn between fourteen year old girl or boy and some of the team wants the kid to be developmentally-delayed as well. Melissa meets the family and they all seem to like her except for the fact that they ask her fifty or sixty times about the fact that Melisssa’s family wouldn’t cooperate with those nice producers for the hometown date and they then have Dad remind everyone that Jason got to ask Deanna Pappas’s father for his blessing all of four months ago just for good measure. At one point with the family Ty says “Where’s Melissa?” then we get to see Ty and the Victim wrestling on the grass. I think this was the show’s foreshadow that the result was going to be something like professional wrestling.

Even the last chance date appeared to go rather well except for the fact that Melissa didn’t get to give Jason one of those fake gifts that some production assistant actually made to share as their special memory from the show.

To be honest if they were going to turn the Bachelor into the Sociopath, it would have been much better TV to have Melissa and Stephanie switch places. Instead of hurting this bubbly, sweet, but very young woman, they could have done a number on national TV to a widow who had lost her husband in a “tragic” plane crash and had been inspired by Jason’s appearance on Deanna’s season to slip her forehead into the dating world. On top of that, they could have gratuitously involved yet another small child in the whole thing. Clearly, this wasn’t scripted, because I’m sure that Mike Fleiss, the producer of both the Bachelor and the Sociopath, would have gone there if he were calling all the shots. On the other hand, they might have done just as well to pull Jillian’s mother into something like this as a way to test how complete her recovery is from that depression thing. Now that, would have been great Reality TV! Could you imagine Jillian’s mom pulling a Joaquin Phoenix on the After the Final Rose 2 complete with gum and beard. Well, the good news is that they still have another chance to do that one. That Fleiss is a clever guy you know.

Had this been a dating show, I imagine they would have shown a much more likeable Molly. It wasn’t like Ty rejected her, in fact she clearly developed a rapport with the kid (at least on camera) even though she didn’t have the same kid skill set as Melissa. A lot of the visit consisted of Jason telling Ty to run after Molly or hand her a shell wedding ring on the beach. During her chat with Jason’s brothers, who don’t look quite as hot as Jason, Molly comes off sounding like Natalie Getz when she confesses, “I’m ready to give up the partying. I definitely went through a period where I partied really hard.”

One of Jason’s brother spills some sugar on the table and Molly pulls out a straw, snorts it up, then announces, “Yeah, I’m ready to settle down with that kid of his as long as it fits in with my career.”

Now that she’s with the rest of Jason’s family, Ty seems to disappear. In the meantime, Molly sidles up to Jason’s Mother and says repeatedly “Your son is the best, Your son is the best” then winks and says something about a a message board. Ty’s grandmother though doesn’t wink back and that was one of my signs that this wasn’t the Bachelor. Instead, the family gushes about how much Molly appears to be in love with Jason except for that career thing. I was also expecting Reality Steve and his dog Maddy to make some sort of cameo appearance here, but not such luck.

On Molly’s final chance date, they do this weird symbolic thing with umbrellas in the wind then Molly gets nearly naked to give Jason a massage and some other form of persuasion, after which she shares this gift she either made for him in seventh grade or that some production assistant helped her with. In fact, it looks remarkably like the scrapbook that Jesse gave Deanna. We learn that Molly has exceptionally good handwriting (that’s part of the passion apparently). It’s not nearly as good as the game that Jason supposedly made for Deanna. I hear that when it snowed in Breckenridge, Jesse and Deanna would break out Jason’s board game, play for several hours, and Deanna then started to get this feeling that maybe she’d made a mistake. Mostly though, we get this image of that final chance thing that Molly either raped the guy or aggressively seduced him. Last week, Jason assured us that they only kissed in the tent and conversed. That’s the hard thing to find credible. Is there any evidence that Jason or Molly could actually sustain a conversation for three hours?

At this point, Mrs. Chancelucky still thinks that we’re watching the Bachelor, that show where they talk about romance all the time and everyone who makes it to the final two or so is classy and gracious or at least tries to be. She starts telling me how nice she thinks this Melissa is even though she’d rooted for Jillian. I break the news to her that this isn’t really the Bachelor, but she doesn’t quite believe me yet. We watch Jason dump Molly and she’s like the worst sport of all time. She says nothing about Melissa. At one point, she informs the Bachelor that he really needs someone who deserves him, implying that Melissa doesn’t. She also can’t believe this is happening. Much to her credit, she gets in the limo and manages to follow her Dad’s advice and holds back the tears.

The final rose with Melissa would have been one of the better Bachelor endings. Jason tells us how sure he is of his choice. Once Melissa realizes that she’s getting the ring, she starts squealing. Jason gets on his knees again (apparently he really likes doing this). Melissa gets on her knees with him. We hear her saying something about “Melissa Mesnick”. Ty sees them and comes running towards them and Melissa tackles the kid (like Dad did on the beach). They all jump in the pool together and announce that they’re going to begin their lives now. We almost forget that five minutes ago, Jason had complained for the fifteenth time that he’d actually fallen in love with two women and seemed to be crying in agony about dumping Molly.

Of course, there’s Bachelor precedent for what happened next. Charley decided to date both Sarah Brice and Krisily Kennedy despite the fact that no one seriously believed that he was all that into Krisily. In fact, many people thought he had better chemistry with Krisily’s grandmother who came back in a future season as Jenni Croft's grandmother. Reality Steve was about to expose that casting ploy, so they told America that Jenni’s Grandmother died between the home visit and the after the final rose show. After Lorenzo’s season, he quietly dumped Jen Who and then openly dated the star of his season, Sadie the Virgin. The show’s producers got talked out of showing whether or not ole Lorenzo managed to get her to give it up. There were also any number of Bachelors and Bachelorettes who broke up prior to the After the Final Rose. For some odd reason, not a single one of those couples had to show their break up on television. In addition, Brad Womack (Mrs. Chancelucky is now the chair of the Brad Womack for President club) is remembered as the guy who refused to give a final rose. Jen, of course, did the same thing a few months earlier, but because no one liked her the second time through Bachelor fans refuse to give her credit for bringing “Just Say No” to Bachelor America. As I understand it, Jason was just following the rules. It’s just that those rules didn’t exist in any of the sixteen prior seasons of the show.

Despite Melissa’s choruses of “I’m always the dumpee” and Jason’s refrain that he’s in love with two women (proposing to one of them at random always solves that problem) the Sociopath doesn’t really kick into gear until After the Final Rose. You remember how slick Jason was with Deanna’s family? They say the best salesmen will absolutely convince you that he’s your best friend in the world until you sign on the dotted line and the guy collects his commission. The next day you’ll come back and find the same guy being your next door neighbors best friend forever. Something’s gone wrong. This isn’t Single Dad Jason, it’s Willy Loman and this is some sort of bizarre remake of Death of a Salesman.

It’s like Jason bought dog shampoo on the home shopping network, signed this hot new band featuring Bob Guiney, or opened up the lastest edition of Girls Gone Wild Magazine, and he insists that the sheen of romance wore off just weeks later. Of course, nothing specific has happened. Melissa’s still Melissa. It’s just that the magic isn’t there anymore and when Marriage and Family Counselor, Chris Harrison, presses a bit we learn that Mr. Sincerity, Jason Mesnick, just can’t stop thinking about Molly Malaney.

Had this been the Bachelor, I figure there would have been three satisfying endings at this point.

1) Melissa’s Dad finally appears with Tara Huckabee’s father’s assault rifle. The show does compete for ratings with 24 after all.

2) Chris Harrison finally decides to give up his role of never seeming to judge the Bachelor and announces an intervention. Jason’s family, Deanna, Jillian, and Byron Velvick all show up to help get Jason into treatment. “No son, you can’t be engaged to three different women in less than a year. You remember talking about how painful that divorce was with Hillary? You remember saying that family and marriage can’t be taken lightly? Do you remember Ty?”

Deanna tells Jason that he’s channeling Ross Gellar who kept getting married and engaged on friends while the real life Jennifer Aniston got married, divorced, engaged, engaged, serious about this singer guy, not really serious….”Jason, that was just a tv show. You know what, we can’t even make guest appearances on the thing. Jesse told me a couple months ago that they cancelled it. The stuff they show on tv now is just reruns. By the way, what was that tall tower thing in Seattle called again?”

Byron tells him, “There are plenty of fish in the sea, you don’t have to propose to all of them.”

3) Jason reveals that he used to date Bevin Powers and that not only was she one of his bridesmaids, but they broke up both their first marriages and then signed up with Mike Fleiss to do more of the same. Inbreeding is just never a good thing, even on reality television.

Sadly, none of those things happen. Melissa comes out. While she doesn’t act like she’s on the best of terms with the Sociopath, she does seem surprised that it’s happening here. Her best line is “you bastard.” Somehow, the whole Ty thing isn’t part of the picture so much now. She does make the minor point that if you get engaged to someone, you might try a little longer than six weeks before you decide to date someone else. All in all, she’s dignified, sensible, and appropriately angry. All through this, Jason is talking about following his heart, like if it’s in your heart to shoot up a playground full of school children that would make it okay.

Throughout, we try to hear a single specific story about any real problem that couple who jumped in the pool might have had in the six weeks, including two weeks of Holiday time, that followed. Did Melissa slap Ty? Did she seem too disappointed when she learned that Jason doesn’t fly around in blimps and have his own sail boat? Did one of them turn out to be an alcoholic or that Jason had two other wives in other states? Did she make him watch the Crying Game like four times in a row before they had a serious talk about other parts of her body she had reduced? Those are events that might make you change your mind in six weeks.

At this point, so many of the choices just aren’t good. If Jason was talking to Molly the whole time, he’s sleazy. If they didn’t have contact, he’s crazy. If the producers made him do this, he’s a wimp. If it was all his idea, he’s well….he’s a sociopath, an individual with a desperate need for attention and affection who has no sense of right and wrong. In any case, all the things that made Jason Mesnick an appealing Bachelor have now been undone. This was supposed to be the guy who cared about other people. The whole single dad thing, is that he gave up the chance to be fun and exciting aka following his heart, because he honored his responsibilities. There was also the small matter that Melissa pointed out that she wanted to be engaged and married to the right guy just once. Jason got torn apart by Jimmy Kimmel. Let me repeat that, Jimmy Kimmel.

Let me mention another set of choices. I didn’t watch the Bachelor to be shocked or to see real people get hurt. I also don’t necessarily enjoy seeing shows where regular people get exposed as shallow or insincere. That’s what game shows are for. In the context of the Bachelor, it’s sort of funny, but I’ve never thought of it as the point. I want to be entertained and it’s the stories and characters that get developed who entertain me. Sometimes that’s the product of judicious editing and scripting, sometimes these things even appear to happen naturally on the show. Still, the bottom line is “Was it entertaining?”

Last night was unquestionably very watchable. There had been so much hype about the various twists and exactly who was right about the various twists, who didn’t want to watch the thing? Clearly, Reality Steve is winning that one right now. Now that the Bachelor has become the Sociopath, I’m wondering who would want to watch this again? We’ve seen the man behind the curtain now and Mike Fleiss is yet another Sociopath. Socio is just not a path I want to walk on again. No, it wasn't fun to watch Jason make out with Molly fifteen minutes after breaking an engagement with someone else. There's no trick ending that can fix all this, at least I can't think of one.

I don’t claim to know Jason Mesnick, Molly Malaney, or Melissa Rycroft (ever noticed all those M’s?) as anything other than tv characters. To me characters belong in a story and I watch television for the stories. This wasn’t a story, it was an emotional freak show, a tour through the DSM IV. At a time when so much of the news is so bad, I was looking to this show for a little escape not some reminder that America is headed to bankruptcy in more senses than one.
Chris Harrison's blog
chancelucky
Buddy TV Bachelor page
Sirlinksalot
Bachelorette

Gentlemen Don't Tell All (Bachelor 13 WTA)

2009-02-25T11:37:00.000-08:00

Most of us accept the fact that the Women Tell All show is filler. This year’s version had filler within the filler. From the three whole minutes of scenes where Jason and Molly actually looked like a couple (they had so much of this footage, they showed the bathtub scene twice) to a Bachelor reject reunion party (I know Jesse Csincsak actually won, but it just never felt that way), you just got this feeling that they weren’t going to let the women talk much expecially not to Jason.

The first fifteen minutes were actually Jason Tells All. I’m pretty sure that was Jason doing some sort of impression of Beavis as Chris Harrison brought out our “Right Reasons” Bachelor’s inner frat boy. “Okay, Jason, how far did you really go with Jillian Harris and Molly Malaney? You can tell me. It’s just us and a few million viewers.”

Jason feigns shock, rolls his eyes, breaks out his man giggle, then tells. Supposedly he only went to first base on the overnight tent date with Molly. He didn’t leave any doubt about his time with Jillian, “A night to remember.” I’m sure he went back to his room after the interview and nailed a pair of maple leaf panties to the wall next to his collection of forty ounce Foster’s cans that he chugged consecutively in 1998. Later, Chris prods Jason into telling America exactly what happens in the fantasy suites. This time he’s a bit more diplomatic, but again doesn’t leave a whole lot of doubt that single Dads can run with the wolves too. In the meantime, I’m sitting there going “Some day, Ty’s going to get older and see this. Worse yet, Mom's going to see this and she's going to get custody. God forbid, imagine Jason does really meet his wife on this show. She's going to see it and Ty's going to ask her about it."

I’m not a hearts and flowers Bachelor fan, but I thought I was supposed to be rooting for Jason. I mean it’s okay for the Bachelor to enjoy the Fantasy Suite (to be honest, I probably would have too if given the opportunity), but no, you don’t tell national television cameras that you um made full use of the fact that these women were locked up with no one else to date, flirt with, etc. for six weeks. Ewwww! Next season, does Chris ask the Bachelor “Okay, you’ve gotten it on with the three of them. Which one was the best?”

I forgot that we already went there. Jason went on a radio show and in view of three other ladies admitted that Molly is the best kisser. So can you be a nice guy and not be a gentleman? It’s possible, but where’s the sweet guy who cancelled a night on the town with the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader because he needed to put his son to bed? It was so cute watching Jason read that bed time story to Ty. It’s just that I didn’t know there was a children’s book version of The Girls Next Door.

It’s part of the genius of Mike Fleiss that all this got turned into a great reality show moment that almost made the two hours worth it. Jillian gets to ask her question of the Bachelor (though what happened to the sit down with the guy part?) and she zings him, “You went out on night one and kissed me, then you go out the next night and kiss Melissa and tell her that you’ve never felt that way about a kiss. What’s up with that, eh?”

Jason, looks nervously at the camera, breaks out the man giggle again, and does the damage control thing, “I was just saying what I felt at the time. I’m an honest sort of guy.”

Fleiss, however, has edited the show in such a way that you know that Jason’s ignoring the back half of the question. Jillian’s real question was “How could you let me straddle you in the hot tub like some scene from one of those movies behind the beaded curtain at the video store then talk about some night to remember, when you were already saying things like that to Melissa?”

The question was not “Were you being honest with Melissa when you said that?” It was “Were you being straight with Jillian (your alleged best friend) after that?” At another point, Chris deftly punctures Jason’s whole “Just friends” thing with Jillian, by showing him the videotaped proof of the “benefits” part of the friends with benefits proposition. Not only do the producers leave this in for broadcast (who wouldn’t?), they then make a point of showing both how popular Jillian is with the studio audience and having Chris ask if she’d be willing to be the Bachelorette. Of course, anyone as smart and centered as Jillian appears to be would say “Absolutely not!” She doesn’t.

In the meantime, we get these oddly frantic bits of Melissa fighting off bugs, shrieking, and appearing to fail the “parent” test once again in New Zealand. We’re only missing bits like her cleaning up Jason’s kitchen, saying that she didn’t notice New Zealand because she was so focused on Single Dad, and most of the body language between the two that’s been so hard to ignore.

What little we do see of the Women Tell All portion of the Women Tell All show….I think the “Women” got maybe 20 minutes out of a two hour show doesn’t exactly move the plot forward. Shannon barely gets to say anything beyond acknowledging that she knew a lot about Jason. They don’t even bring up “kissing the dog”. Stephanie doesn’t get her own interview. She had a bit softer look and I thought she looked great. Yes, Lauren, Megan, and Erica got into it a little bit, but mostly we got a whole bunch of Natalie Getz, the season’s answer to Paris Hilton. We’re reminded that Natalie has a high opinion of her own attractiveness and that a lot of the other ladies didn’t like her. Wow! Big shock there. At the same time, there was something a bit Jerry Springer about Natalie’s WTA appearance. It was like she was really enjoying all the hooting and the jeering. Pair that with the rumor that she’s dating Satan, aka Mike Fleiss and….

We often forget that Bachelor is descended from Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire, the show where the millionaire was actually in debt and had once been on the wrong end of a domestic violence restraining order. Anyway, take a look at this Business Week interview with the guy and note what he has to say about the Brad Womack season.
Other than Jillian who along with Stephanie may be the only real winners from this season, the best parts of the Women Tell All came from the filler that didn’t include Trista, Ryan, and their baby factory (though it was fun to hear that Trista was rooting for Melissa- ex-cheerleaders stick together I suspect). While Fleiss considered Charlie O’connell’s season the low point of the show’s run (likely because of the ratings), I’ve often thought it was one of the better seasons largely because the show laughed at itself a bit and underneath it all there was a real love story with Sarah Brice. Charlie turned out to be interesting because he was seriously flawed (all the dates were at bars so we saw the issue), yet also very likeable. They paired him with some truly goofy ladies and he managed to pick the one who really seemed to center him in Sarah Brice, who had a career, owned her own house, and wanted a real relationship that didn't include Charlie worship. As the two discussed their “journey”, in this case it doesn’t feel like a cliché, there was something genuinely romantic about it because the show didn’t do the whole fairy tale thing. Most of us watching aren’t perfect catches either. While there’s been a lot of snark about Byron and Mary (including from me), I simply wish them well in real life.

I think the energy from the Bachelor reject reunion was actually better than the show and I wondered briefly if they were using the footage to spawn a spinoff of some kind. One, the audience got to indulge in a favorite past time of mixing and matching various men and women from the different seasons. I still say that Jason and Kelly Jo Kuharski would have worked, though I guess Kelly Jo is already married. It made perfect sense to me that Amanda Rantuccio would have a crush on Graham Bunn. I just wish they would have shown the bit where she hired two actors to let him know about it and he responded with a letter to be read away from the cameras. I don’t know what the “threesome” talk was about, I figure it was Erica Rose, Doctor Rotting Eggs, and the French guy from Jenn’s season (the installment I consider the show’s true low point).

How do I put this? When Holly Durst announced that Jesse was taken I don’t think that many women across America were all that sorry, though I like Jesse well enough. I’m not sure that many women are all that excited by the prospect of Justin Guarini (Holly’s ex) being on the loose either. There was, however, something genuinely endearing about Fred Greif, Ellen Degeneres’s favorite bachelor, and Noelle Drake, one of my favorite bachelorettes, pairing off. Unlike many winners on the show, they appeared to be an actual couple (compare it to Matt and Shayne on the last reunion show, and was that really Shayne on this one? Yikes! I may have been right about Zombie Mom and Dad). When Noelle said, “Here we are a couple reality show rejects” I actually almost forgave her for not returning my hundreds of e-mails offering to leave Mrs. Chancelucky for her. Did they let Jeremy talk during that Bachelor reunion? I figure they’re punishing him for talking to Reality Steve.

Next week, we get to the choice between Molly and Melissa. Sad to say, hardly anyone’s talking about it. Instead, everyone’s obsessed about the choice between Reality Steve and Chris Harrison. I’ve always rather liked Chris Harrison. He’s funny, he doesn’t overstep the bounds of his role (are you listening Ryan Seacrest?), he’s remarkably restrained and let’s us in on how hard that can be at times just enough. I’ve also enjoyed his blog this year. It’s been a little sad to see how the show has put him in the awkward position of carrying water for the producers in its attempts to deal with the Reality “this is my last post on this at least until next week” Steve thing.

Right now, it all seems to hinge on how scripted is scripted (Where’s Bill Clinton when you need him?) Last season, one of my frustrations at the end was that the show had a perfectly good story to tell about Jesse and Deanna, but they hid it so they could have a surprise ending. I’m all for surprise endings, but I still think they only work if you actually care about the characters. I’m just not sure why they’re working so hard at making us like Jason less this late into the show.

Anyway ( btw there is some obscure sect of Jillian believers out there who still think she figures into the ending) after reading all the possible scenarios for the final rose, Deanna, the AFTR, AFTR2, and the various ABC as American Broadcast Conspiracy network theorists, this year’s WTA suggested strongly that all the principals in the Final Rose thing don’t exactly win. Who would want this Jason?
Even those guys on from G's to Gents know better than this. btw It's not Reality Steve who edited Jason this way for the WTA.

Chris Harrison's blog
chancelucky
Buddy TV Bachelor page
Sirlinksalot
Bachelorette

Dupree Bolton (Fireball) music review

2009-02-22T10:30:00.000-08:00

Even though I've been a jazz fan for thirty five years, I'd never listened to Harold Land's album “The Fox” until about five years ago. The date is fifty years old and not exactly obscure, but Land, the leader and tenor player, probably remains the best known soloist on the album and he never came close to being a household name in jazz. In 1959, the year the Fox was recorded in Los Angeles, jazz critics liked to divide the music into East Coast and West Coast. East Coast was driving, harmonically challenging, and full-throated. West Coast was cool, melodic, wispy, and to put it bluntly “Whiter”.

“The Fox” was East Coast music cut on Contemporary, a west coast label and that may be the simple explanation for why it never got the attention it deserved. Had it been on Blue Note, it would have fit right in with classics like Hank Mobley's Soul Station, Dexter Gordon's Doin' Allright, and Lee Morgan's The Sidewinder.

Technically, the Fox was as much an Elmo Hope album as it was Harold Land's. Hope wrote four of the six compositions. This is one of the few instances where the pianist who both influenced Bud Powell and Thelonius Monk and whose own style seems to split the difference between the two was both playing well and got recorded cleanly. Still, most everyone I know who has heard “The Fox” seems to have the same reaction- “Who the heck is that trumpet player?”

When Dupree Bolton solos on tracks like Mirror-Mind-Rose and Sims a Plenty, he dominates what many consider Land and Hope's best album. Bolton's conception on the instrument was both mature and fully-realized. It's big-toned, confident, clear, and agile and after you listen to the album, you both can't forget it and you just want to hear more of the guy. The Fox was Bolton's first appearance on an album. He later appeared on Curtis Amy's “Katanga”-- another underrated album-- and was equally impressive (listen to him on the title track) . Mysteriously, that was the trumpeter's entire commercially-released output at a time when hundreds of jazz albums were issued by dozens of labels on both coasts.

Go up to some hardcore jazz buff and say the name “Dupree Bolton” and you'll either get a shrug or hear something like “What a waste!” The simple answer was that Bolton had a lifelong drug habit that resulted in multiple long term incarcerations. Still, that doesn't explain it completely. If you read about virtually any of Charlie Parker's progeny, you quickly realize that hundreds of musicians from the period had serious drug problems and dozens of them recorded anyway between prison and rehab stints. In fact there are stories that musicians used to show up for recording sessions at one fairly well-known label, get their twenty five dollars, then head straight out for a fix. Based on the recorded evidence, here was a trumpet player who appears to have been on a par with Lee Morgan, Donald Byrd, Freddie Hubbard, and Kenny Dorham (a couple of these guys were hardly paragons of sobriety or virtue) whose complete discography consisted of about ten tracks.

Equally strange, Dupree Bolton lived into his sixties(1929-1993) and apparently never stopped playing. One of the stories was that during much of the eighties, he played on the sidewalk by Ghiradelli and Union Squares in San Francisco as a street musician. It's said that he'd lost something, but his sound was still recognizable. I lived in San Francisco during that period and still wonder if I might have heard him.

When “Fireball”, a posthumous album of Dupree Bolton's lost tracks appeared a few weeks ago, I was very excited. My friend Tony, a fellow jazz afficionado to whom I'd introduced The Fox, heard about it he ordered a copy immediately. It took a couple months and he had to deal with two different outlets, but he was very excited to get the thing and we both figured that the ghost of Dupree Bolton had simply been responsible for the delay.

Fireball is clearly a labor of love. In addition to fourteen previously unreleased tracks of Bolton's playing, the CD includes fifty pages of liner notes (mostly by Richard Williams who wrote an article in Granta about Bolton) with everything that is known and probably will ever be known about the trumpeter's mysterious life including several surprises. The biggest of those is that I had assumed that Bolton was very young when he recorded The Fox. He was actually already thirty –I'd just never done the math. The real story was that he'd left home after dropping out of high school and toured with Jay McShann (who once hired Charlie Parker) among others, but literally no one much noticed or remembered him, something that suggests that his playing wasn't all that special at the time. My guess is that if the Dupree Bolton of Katanga had played in those bands, he'd definitely have stood out. Somewhere in his early twenties, Bolton did the first of many long prison stints. He seems to have reappeared in Los Angeles in the late fifties as a fully-formed musical presence and was playing club dates when Land brought him into the recording studio.

The simple answer was that even though he was getting noticed, he couldn't hold it together. The bio explains that he was signed to a recording contract to do at least one date as a leader, for which he was given a substantial advance, but for various reasons (almost all of which appear to have to do with Bolton), the album never got made and there don't seem to be any tapes from it.

To many fans, the possibility that there was some magical lost Bolton recording is second in forgotten trumpet lore to the generations old rumor that Buddy Bolden (the New Orleans trumpet player who supposedly influenced Louis Armstrong) made at least one recording late in his career. This “lost session” phenomenon is one of the pleasures of being a jazz fan. Three years ago, a very good live concert of Thelonius Monk playing with John Coltrane appeared from some State Department-sponsored concert. In the late sixties, A.B. Spellman's “Four Lives in the Bebop Business” sparked an interest in the music of pianist, Herbie Nichols, who was almost as obscure as Bolton. Nichols recorded three albums for Blue Note in the fifties which were re-released in the seventies and brought more attention to his music than he'd ever enjoyed when alive.

Sadly, the music on Fireball doesn't exactly uncover lost jazz treasure. The material consists of air checks from the 1962 tv show, Frankly Jazz (Frank Evans) where Bolton plays with Curtis Amy (it's good, but compromised by indifferent audio quality and Curtis Amy arguably sonds better than Bolotn here), two lost tracks/outtakes from a Pacific Jazz session with Amy (good again, but one can understand why they didn't get included on an album-- this material also includes solos by Earl Andeerza a sax player whose mystique as a lost jazz genius almost matches Bolton's) and most intriguing of all several tracks from 1980 of Bolton playing with an Oklahoma prison band (to me this was the saddest of all, it might have been that the other musicians couldn't push him, but there's a subdued and slightly broken quality to Bolton's playing on it that all but destroys the fantasy that the trumpeter of The Fox and Katanga's music continued to progress and grow).

I'm not saying that Fireball is bad. It's actually quite listenable, especially the two tracks from Pacific Jazz. It is, however, simply not up to the standard that Bolton so intriguingly set with his two long ago commercially released albums as a sideman. Instead of extending that legend, the music on the Fireball merely echoes it and while the liner notes don't say that they more or less imply it with their lack of superlatives in discussing the music.

The project itself was clearly a labor of love. If you've ever wondered about what happened to Dupree Bolton, whatever answers we're ever going to get are probably in this album. Sadly, though it all but smothers my fantasy that the man somehow kept playing and the genius that was so briefly evident never slipped away. I probably set my hopes too high.

One of the most fascinating parts of the materials is an essay by someone who knew Bolton from the trumpeter's time in prison in Oklahoma. The author reveals that he knew Bolton as an intelligent, thoughtful, and sensitive individual who for various reasons was more drawn to getting high than to maintaining his very real gifts as a musician. He speculates that Bolton had some anti-social psychological disorder and shares a story about Bolton, out of prison, being invited on stage by Dexter Gordon (a sign of respect and generosity), playing creditably, then trying to pressure Dexter into giving him a job, insulting the man so intemperately that Gordon went from trying to lend a hand to angrily writing the trumpeter off.

In any case, Dupree Bolton's story deserves to be told and remembered. Fireball completes that story. In some ways, it's the quintessential bop story. A man plays a couple thousand notes on his instrument so well that those who get to hear him can't forget them, but the tradeoff seems to be that he's not allowed to accomplish anything else in his life and we can't remember him as a person. If you want to know about the story of Dupree Bolton, pick up a copy of Fireball, make a point of reading the liner notes, and enjoy the music on the CD. If you want to understand the legend, you need to go back to the Fox and Katanga, sit back, turn up the volume, and revel in dreams of what might have been and the fundamental mystery at the heart of the jazz experience. It is, after all, the music that lives in the moment and even the best attempts to preserve or record it never do it justice. With jazz (like the blues), what is forgotten and can't be reconstructed feels every bit as vital to the experience as what we can hold onto.

chancelucky

Girl You Know It's True (Bachelor 13 round of 3)

2009-02-18T18:36:00.000-08:00

What does “Girl You Know It’s True have to do with the Bachelor? In case you missed the early nineties, it was Milli Vanilli’s biggest hit. For those of you who don’t remember, Milli Vanilli won a 1990 Grammy as best new artists until a mishap at a concert exposed the fact that Rob Pilatus and Fab Morvan didn’t actually sing on their own album. Apparently, they were performing at a concert and a technical glitch caused the tape to keep playing the same lyric over and over. The audience didn’t notice and the performers didn’t really change their act. A couple journalists did notice though and Milli Vanilli rapidly faded from the public eye because the public felt “betrayed.” They probably weren’t the first pop singers to get “dubbed” and it remains very common to process, splice, and use various effects to enhance a commercial singer’s recorded voice. The really interesting question isn't why did they fake it (oddly both guys could sing a little), but just what put this so much more over the line that the public got genuinely pissed off.

Rob Pilatus overdosed in 1999. Amazingly, Fab Morvan stayed in the music business and made his own album in 2003. Tellingly, the producer Frank Farian kept making music and money with more fakeo groups. I remember Milli Vanilli well because my son, not much younger than Reality Steve, was a fan when he was in 6th grade. One day he listened to the cassette constantly in our car, the next he was smashing it in half with a hammer. The music was the same, but he’d had too much of a glimpse of what’s behind the curtain in the pop music industry and he felt like he’d been taken.

For the last couple weeks, Reality Steve (probably the most read Bachelor blogger- I doubt that I’m in the top ten, how pitiful is that?) has been teasing his readers with a major revelation about the Jason Mesnick Season. Several thousand comments later, Steve posted his revelation on Youtube and it comes down to his claim that this season’s “dramatic” ending was essentially scripted so that Jason would choose one woman, Melissa, then realize after the final rose that he was truly in love with another, Molly. Rather than deny it, ABC/Mike Fleiss productions has lent credibility to Reality Steve by starting to play up their dramatic finale and by adding a second After the Final Rose show. Those who follow the show and post about it on the various Bachelor message boards appear to believe Reality Steve for the most part or they're sure acting like it.

In the fifties, there was a huge scandal about the “reality” of early tv game shows. It turned out that the 64,000 Dollar Question’s star contestant , Charles Van Doren, was being briefed on the type of questions he was likely to be asked on the show as he moved closer to the big prize. Just before the emergence of “Reality TV”, Robert Redford made a very good movie about the scandal, Quiz Show.

I don’t think any sane viewer has ever sincerely believed that Reality Television is “real”. Heck, we know wrestling and Jerry Springer are fake, and some of us still find it fun (not me). We’ve come to expect a certain level of manipulation, editing, and planting of contestants and for those of us who follows the shows closely that’s honestly always been part of the fun. We ferret it out, howl at it, and pat ourselves on the back for picking out what standard definition tv America either misses or ignores. Favorite Bachelor questions include things like was Matt Grant told that he could only choose Shayne? – Did they reshoot the ending during Deanna’s season? – Was Travis Stork interested at all in his final two choices? Still, even when Bachelor fans know perfectly well how far the show goes to edit and manipulate, a lot of us (me included believe it or not) dream of the real thing. We insist that the ultimate installment of the Bachelor is when you really get to see romance unfold on the show. We also believe (I’d argue rightly) that such an event would be the ultimate ratings winner. There’s a similar thing with American Idol, hardcore fans frequently talk about the Messiah, an actual contestant who is iconic enough to be the next Sinatra, Streisand, Mick Jagger, or Aretha. Actually, they’d settle for Freddie Mercury (no disrespect to Queen fans intended). When it comes to Bachelor, we'll put up with a lot as long as the choosing itself is vaguely real (fwiw we get it if the Bachelor just isn't into anyone and more or less fakes the final choice) and there is some actual possibility of romance every third installment or so.

So in the midst of learning that Alex Rodriguez did steroids and that our banks lent trillions of dollars to individuals who really didn’t have the means to pay it back, Reality Steve has shouted “Enough, this season is Molly Vanilli!”

It’s not that surprising that someone would do this. There’s a whole sub-hobby in spoiling the show or gossiping about how far they’ll go to get TV moments or statements from the contestants. The fascinating thing is that so many people are paying so much attention. In fact, no one’s talking about anything else and many of the bloggers have stopped even recapping the show. I wouldn’t be shocked to learn that the producers of the Bachelor decided that cliffhangers bring in more viewers than romance. The Bachelor’s always been part game show and part soap opera. In the end, all successful soap operas get increasingly ridiculous until they become parody. Between the third and fourth season of any show, all of the characters have had romantic flirtations with each other, had three or four life threatening diseases or discovered some lost relative. By the time the show plays out, the original viewers are just saying “This is stupid!”

Anyway, this season resembles the last episode of the Prisoner. Where Patrick Mcgoohan spent the entire run of the show trying to get a face to face meeting with Number 1 only to find that Number 1 was either a chimpanzee or a fantasy, the Bachelor has been an endless series of ecstatic proclamations in Chris Harrison’s voice about the wonders of finding true love and romance. We come to the end with the guy some believed to be there for the proverbial right reasons and the show reveals that not only is it not interested in romance, it has no heart at all. That nice Jason fellow who had his heart broken is just an actor whose status as such may date back to when he first told Deanna Pappas about Ty. Was the Deanna Pappas trilogy really just a way to write season endings that would build audience for the next installment ad infirosem? Make the thwarted romantic in the last show the star of the next and have that person break someone else’s heart until all of America has been the Bachelor or Bachelorette?

Worst of all, people worry that Melissa Rycroft was led to believe that Jason’s interest in her was on the level when it was really just part of some complex deal to reel in viewers. If you notice, recent Bachelor leads seem to fall in and out of love awfully easily, so much so that Brad Womack, once the most hated Bachelor in the show’s history, has become Bachelor world’s Jose Canseco, the former slugger and steroid user who appears to be the one guy who’s telling the truth about everyone else. Is the show and is Jason so heartless that he would play Melissa Rycroft just for the money, notoriety, etc.?

So what are the ethical limits of reality television? If they exist then this season, if you believe Reality Steve, crossed them all. While we love to make fun of the whackier contestants on the show, this one became some version of the Millgram experiment, where the college professor finds that students will torture someone as long as they’re told that they’re expected to do it. Did we just watch someone kill puppies on national television, albeit one with a great body, in the guise of entertainment?

We’ll all know a lot more in a couple weeks and as interesting as this is, it’s pretty trivial stuff. One of the joys of reality tv is that it’s a much more participatory sport than traditional scripted television. We watch, we chat online, we try to guess the outcome and see all the strings holding up the puppets. If true (and I’m willing to wait and see), this is the biggest Fuck You imaginable from the producers. One of the sadder aspects of it all is that Chris Harrison, maybe the one participant on the show who’s universally popular, got in on the act by more or less covering for the producers.

Since no one else is recapping:

Part way into that hot tub scene with Jillian, I was convinced that I’d tuned into Emmanuelle-New Zealand instead. In several of this year’s episodes, there have been clear signs of Fleiss going the Mary Hartman Mary Hartman route. There was Molly Bair talking about making out with her dog. There was that bizarre home visit with Naomi Crespo’s family. Now, you have Jason (America’s nice guy) making an adult movie with the Bachelorette that he was going to dump in a couple days. Of course, just last week we got to see how her family had survived a serious mental illness. There was something really disturbing about this combination. My sense that someone’s telegraphing some sort of “joke season” was tweaked even further by Jillian’s fantasy of watching little Ty cross dress while cuddled up in connubial bliss with Jason. Did you notice that they took the Canadian lady on two different dates to wineries, eh? Talk about your stereotypes.

Equally weird, Jason never really says anything this episode. He asks a bunch of questions, reads body language, then waits for each of the ladies to tell him how they’re falling love with him. Molly does reverse this some by giving him the world’s dullest quiz (like mother like daughter I guess) after their bungee jumping experience (Chris Harrison tells us, notice how interested Jason is in getting Molly’s approval.) We learn that Jason’s favorite meal is a hamburger, his favorite car is a Mustang, and his favorite singer is Elvis. Wow! My guess is that Jason’s an alien pretending to be a “regular American guy.” Mmmm, maybe that’s the dramatic reveal at the end. So if this really is who he wants, I can’t imagine what’s on the editing room floor given some of the acting he did with Melissa.

With Melissa, I think the big puzzle is that Jason and Melissa are clearly terrible actors, yet they’re doing such a good job of faking actual attraction. You watch the segments and there’s no question that he just wants to get with her even if it has to be a threesome with Winston Churchill’s ghost and Jason in the middle. There is the whole silliness about Melissa’s family that does seem like yet another test of Bachelor fan gullibility. Jason asks “Have you talked to your parents yet?” Melissa shakes her head know then tells him how actually close she is to her family. Why’s it all like a really badly acted and written soap opera? Melissa keeps saying, “I’m always the dumpee” , Molly asks “gee what if you pick the wrong girl and figure it out later?” , Jillian makes a speech about being really really in love while Jason acts more tortured than necessary after her departure. At the end of the second AFTR is Jason going to rip his own head off and reveal that he’s a trained Chimpanzee, the Bachelor’s version of Number One and that Ty is an animatronic puppet?

Many many years ago, my parents lectured me about the difference between getting attention and actually making friends. Sure this whole thing is going to attract viewers for the same reason that people rubberneck at five car collisions. Getting my attention, however, is not the same thing as entertaining me. Again, I’m willing to see how this all works out, but right now I’m willing to bet that I had better parents than Mike Fleiss.

P.T. Barnum is often credited with saying “There’s a sucker born every minute.” Right now, I feel like one of them. Here I thought my silly more or less innocent weekly diversion of a tv dating show was just good fun, instead we’re getting a reminder that American popular entertainment is at heart just one big freak show and a scripted one at that. I now fully expect the final credits to say “No professional cheerleaders were actually injured or abused in any way during the filming of this sad excuse for entertainment.”
Chris Harrison's blog
chancelucky
Buddy TV Bachelor page
Sirlinksalot
Bachelorette

You Marry the Family Too (Bachelor 13 Round of 4)

2009-02-10T17:20:00.000-08:00

Allegedly, the last advice Aunt Stephanie Hogan shared with Jason Mesnick before departing in the limo of shame was "You marry the girl, you marry the family."

Move over Meredith Phillips, Jason Mesnick just stole the title for weirdest set of home visits yet. If you remember, Meredith, Microsoft software model and dating show cookbook author, survived two of the odder visits in Bachelor History. First, can you imagine a home visit where the happy couple inspects insemination devices and that’s not the weirdest thing about the date? No, Meredith then got to listen to one of the scarier speeches ever about wifely duties from Lanny’s mom, a woman who had been placed in suspended animation back in the 1870’s then was suddenly revived by Mike Fleiss. Along with that, Meredith learned from one of her beau’s aunts that he just happened to be unemployed. Of course, Ian simply decided that his parents weren’t the right sort of people for a home visit, so he didn’t include them. Instead, we got to see Ian’s brother spend most of the time talking to him in some stairwell instead of visiting with Meredith. Ian, the pride of St. Paul’s Academy, got the final rose anyway.

So, how did Jason manage to top that? Well, there’s this moment when Molly’s entire family is sitting around in weird party hats (Dad gets a beer stein) without either laughing or speaking to one another. Maybe to deal with the awkward silence, Mrs. Malaney whips out a not so well disguised version of the Goodenough-Harris (Draw a Person) test and compares Jason’s drawing of her daughter to Heath Ledger’s take on the Joker. If I told you that was one of the more normal moments during Jason’s home visits? At one point during that same visit, Molly’s Dad who we learn for the third time didn’t approve of Molly’s last boyfriend, Adam “Pacman” Jones, for some reason, he gives her the sage advice “If you don’t happen to win this, don’t you dare cry in that limo.” (when Molly gets eliminated, do you think they might reference this?)

It’s the sort of thing Barbara Bush would inflict on one of her sons and look how that turned out. The most normal part of that visit was Molly dressed up for a round of golf, something her family does every Sunday, bringing Jason the right clothes for the Grand Rapids Country Club. Gerald Ford represented Grand Rapids for many years. This is a match for Jason? Did you catch the polite silence when Jason mentioned Ty as he tried to explain that he doesn’t play as much as he used to. On the other hand, you’re in Michigan guy. Your kid knows Joe Dumars not Michael Jordan. In case you were wondering why they never exactly mention what Jason does for a living other than appear on the Bachelor, I wouldn’t bet on commercial artist.

Once it moved forward from Jillian Harris stepping on the back of Canada’s version of the Loch Ness Monster, the Canadian home visit was genuinely touching. In a long run of parents who looked alcoholic, possibly mentally ill, or just plain strange, this was probably the first time any contestant’s acknowledged not only mental illness in her family, but mentioned a parental suicide attempt. Fascinatingly, Jason mentioned a history of depression in his own family. We have our own share of non-idyllic experiences in our family so it was nice to see evidence of such a thing on a Bachelor home visit. In Bachelor world, the only bad thing that had ever happened before this had been divorce or parents who died at some point. Well, Estella Gordimer’s father had been deaf, but he had already died. Noelle Drake also had facial reconstruction surgery. Beyond that, there’s been no autism, horrifying auto accidents, cancer, retardation, schizophrenia, missing limbs, PTSD from the war, etc.

The weird thing, in Bachelor terms, is that the show actually made the case for one of its contestants having real substance. Beneath the Maple Leaf flags and boxers, the Jillian home visit mostly made the point that Jillian had met the test of supporting her parents through fifteen years (most of Jillian’s life) of parental hospitalizations, medication, and therapy. At the same time, the family had managed to retain a sense of joy and the capacity to welcome Jason without making it all about them. Mrs. Chancelucky is a Jillian fan and she thought this was the greatest segment ever.

If Jason were the Jason whom everyone thinks is so incredible, he would almost certainly pick Jillian. They showed her having depth, dignity, and she’s plenty attractive. This, however, is the same Jason who fell for Deanna. As he puts it, he wants to be “needed”. Come to think of it, the Deanna everyone liked was the girl who lost her mother at a young age then looked after everyone else. You really want to trust someone with Ty, this is probably the one. Molly’s family still thinks their daughter is a child. It’s hard to say what’s going on with Melissa, but all her boyfriends mistreated her is probably not a good thing to put on a stepmom’s resume. You think boyfriends are tough, try stepchildren and ex-wives.

Some of the symmetry is appealing. Jason was the Bachelor with a secret last season. Jillian waited for the right moment to talk about her mother. Despite the preview of the prolonged kissing, something’s a little off for this to be a winner’s edit. How do I put this? The Jillian visit was all ketchup, all sweetness and no spice. Somehow, grandma was the naughtiest thing about the entire visit.

Before Matt Grant’s home visit with Amanda Rantuccio, she hired a pair of actors to pretend to be the weirdest parents in the world. Amanda might have won if she’d hired Naomi Crespo’s parents instead. Normally, I look for weird things to comment on in a show. This was so weird, I was looking for signs of reality. From giant slot machines and bathroom doors to the dead bird funeral, this one was a scene from Meet the Parents part 3 or Flirting with Disaster 2. Between Naomi’s Evangelical Dad and her New Age multiply reincarnated mom, the hula hoops, and the slightly odd kids, it occurs to me that no family would be this clueless if they thought their daughter was sincerely interested in this guy. It struck me that Naomi’s family, knowing that Jason is Jewish and Naomi not likely to convert any time soon, might have simply decided to have some fun in front of the cameras. Consider this clue (no, it’s not a Reality Steve type clue), Mom decides to name the dead bird “Rosie” and insists that Jason say the eulogy as in no rose for Naomi. I mean who comes up with “We kept it in the refrigerator for four days and it smells like chicken?”

Yes, Southern California is full of whacky people. In fact, Mrs. Chancelucky is from the San Diego area too and she was whacky enough to marry me. Despite what Chris Harrison says, my take is that Naomi’s family simply decided to punk the show. Naomi really didn’t seem all that upset either about her family or about not getting the rose. If the producers had been on the ball though they’d have had a bird hit the windshield of the limo of shame. Anyway, I go back to that first kiss between Jason and Naomi and thinking “There’s no way there’s anything there.”

So I have two questions about Melissa Rycroft. First, why does the woman wear shorts everywhere? Second, what’s the deal with the family? Is it that the entire rest of the family has Double F breasts and they don’t want to be seen on television, so they’d prefer to just let America believe that they aren’t supportive (heh heh)? Melissa described herself as the black sheep. Maybe they saw the ad for the new Jason movie and thought Bachelor Jason was that Jason, a guy with a hockey mask and a hatchet. Could be that they’re in witness protection and Fleiss is planning a very special crossover with the Sopranos. How about Melissa’s dad was one of the three tramps spotted on the grassy knoll on November 22, 1963? Perhaps, it’s something like Shrek and the blow you away final rose thing leads into the first animated Bachelor? The final scene has Melissa and Jason taking Ty to the premiere. Personally, I like the whole vampire thing (kmoon so obviously being werewolves and Rebecca York writes vampire romances). Think about it, haven’t you noticed that Jason always has a five o’clock shadow? Just before dawn in New Zealand, they kill Molly together before she can tell the National Enquirer and Jason offers Melissa the final blood-soaked rose, howls at the full moon, and we then get a glimpse of little Ty’s fangs as he puts his first baby fang in that cute little coffin that Melissa made for him. Notice how Reality Steve kept referring to Lost?

The friends visit was especially fascinating. First they show Jason and Melissa frolicking together with a pair of little girls. Maybe they should make the point once again that Melissa has FF-sized maternal instincts? Second, the husbands talk about Melissa having loser boyfriends who don’t treat her right. What a subtle edit there! Didn’t Jason say he wanted to be needed? The big Nate Newton in the room though is that despite knowing Melissa for several years, they’ve never much met her parents either. After seeing Jason shoot pool with the guys while jabbering on about how perfect she is, Melissa gets to confess that her family didn’t even go to Cowboys games when she was a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader. Anne Richards aside, this is the highest office any woman in Texas can hold. We’re led to believe that this is some form of child abuse or neglect worse than being locked in a small room with Terrell Owens’s ego. In the meantime, I don’t trust Melissa’s friend’s husband. Normal married men don’t complain about their wife’s hot friend hanging around too much without a date. Instead, they fantasize about hot tubs, their wives, themselves, the hot best friend and just the right circumstances.

So let’s see here. Jason then got to choose between 1) Is depression genetic, Chris? 2) A family colder than Lake Michigan in February 3) The weirdest home visit in Bachelor History 4) and a really hot woman who keeps dating losers and whose family no showed. Jason got so excited about the prospect of the overnight date in New Zealand with Melissa that he gave her the last rose while he still had two roses left. Maybe Rosie will be reincarnated, fly to New Zealand, and magically appear at the final rose ceremony?
Chris Harrison's blog
chancelucky
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Scoopless in Seattle (Bachelor 13 Round of 5)

2009-02-04T13:07:00.000-08:00

You know, last night's episode would have been great if they could have maybe just found some way to mention Sleepless in Seattle or point to the Space Needle one more time. Somewhere before the first time Jason tells the camera that Ty is the most important person in his life, I kind of got it. If you remember, the basic plot of Sleepless in Seattle is that the kid helps his single dad find Meg Ryan after kid and then Dad impulsively make a call to a radio talk show. Naturally, they did a segment of the Frasier Crane show with Melissa and Naomi Crespo mysteriously listening to the broadcast so that Jason could make like Tom Hanks. In the meantime, Ty has booked a flight with his new friend Sophia to go to the top of an Empire State Building made entirely of Legos. When Rob Reiner and Rita Wilson show up as Jason's brother and sister in law, I'm pretty sure we'll know how this is going to end. So, there’s my big scoop. Jason’s going to give the final rose to Meg Ryan or whoever happens to be dating Bill Pullman these days.

In the meantime, the rest of the Bachelor Empire is watching reruns of the tv series Heroes as they try to make sense of Reality Steve's teaser about a genuinely dramatic and surprising finale and some business about “Save the cheerleader, save the world.” I've always enjoyed Reality Steve's posts and he's clearly having fun with the scoop. Steve takes all this to a very different level than I do. While I read the boards and comment on them from time to time, I’m strictly a Reality TV civilian and my blog has no intelligence gathering capacity. In the last week, Realty Steve created more excitement about the plot of what I call the “Deanna Pappas trilogy” than the actual airing of the episodes.

It does remind me of junior high. Someone passes a note, “Hey, S knows what J really did with M at Rose's last party.” Suddenly, everyone is paying attention to S and S has this power that lasts until he or someone else spills or until S gets his next big secret. Naturally, I've been as curious as anyone else here at Tristaryan Middle School, so I've been following Steve around just like everyone else.
Prescient or not, Reality Steve's scoop isn't really about how it ends, it's more a reminder that most of us obsessive fans are in some stage of arrested development.

For me, it's simple. I was a nerd. I missed that whole “who likes whom” stage, never dated much, and had it not been for Mrs. Chancelucky I'd be doing Second Life 24/7. Anyway, if you want scoops about this show, I'm the last guy who's going to have one unless it's something like which book of Harry Potter was contestant X quoting on that date to Diagon Alley. Btw Isn't it weird how we got a black President before we got a black Bachelor/ette? Maybe one season, they'll have Tyler Perry guest produce with a special appearance by Oprah instead of Ellen? On the other hand, Jason seems to have had better luck with his stimulus package than the President. (think about it, you have a black president talking about making his package even bigger to stimulate America. What Southern Republican is going to vote for that?)

The title for this episode should have been, “The One Where Jason Kisses Everyone Except Aunt Stephanie.” The only thing unexpected about it for me was the fact that he appeared to have such a hard time with that last rose. Here’s a hint. If you wind up alone (except for the ferry captain and half a dozen camera crew) and he keeps talking about what a great time he had at Lego Land with your daughter Sophia and how special that “was” instead of putting a move on you, I wouldn’t make too many preparations for either the fantasy suite or that home visit.

Stephanie Hogan was also the only one Jason didn’t discuss the “home visit” with though that might just have been edited out. In the meantime, she gets to muse about seeing her husband in heaven some day (yes, if I were either dating her or just broke up with her, I would be creeped out by that ). Fortunately for Sophia, Stephanie is not a traditional Hindu. This is way off topic, but I have this weird image of Stephanie having lifted "I kiss special men all over until they're completely satisfied" from some web pages that mentions time and companionship only. (You know I thought I was weird being a guy who watches and posts about the Bachelor, but it seems like many of the Bachelor bloggers are male. Does it maybe have something to do with bits like the kissing contest with the lingerie talk from Molly and hot tub scenes with Melissa and Naomi?)

They also threw some sort of Lifetime Achievement Awards banquet for Stephanie instead of a rose ceremony. She seemed very nice and was clearly popular with the other women. Jason seemed to like her well enough as well, but I don’t think there was ever a hint of a moment when anyone thought this could happen. Maybe it’s me, but I also don’t see how this made her the “greatest human being they’ve all ever known.” Her husband died, she’s a good mom, she has manners. Well, come to think of it, relative to other Bachelor contestants maybe that does make her a candidate for sainthood. Still doesn’t seem fair to me that they made a big deal of Stephanie phoning Sophia and no one ever saw Megan Parris being a mom.

Currently, Mrs. Chancelucky and I are arguing about Melissa Rycroft. Mrs. Chancelucky thinks she’s a giggly ditz. I keep looking at the bikini photo I posted with last week’s post then disagreeing. I don’t really know if the whole “cancelled” date thing was a setup, but they were definitely building the case for Melissa. She’s clearly not high-maintenance cheerleader, at least while they have two or three cameras trained on her. She did the dishes, picked up the toys, and waited. Jason got to make like a good Dad by saying that he wasn’t going to introduce Ty to any of the ladies just yet and Melissa didn’t question the decision for a second. One could easily imagine Shannon or Megan rushing Ty’s bedroom door and jumping onto that little race car bed. While she waited, Melissa got to pour some of the wine she distributes in her day job and persuaded the crew to buy fifty cases between her stories about being friends with Jeremy Anderson’s Cowboys Cheerleader girlfriend. It sure looked like a winner’s edit to me, but I’m just the nerd on the Bachelor playground who hears Reality Steve stuff from some girl who still brings a Scooby Doo lunch box to school.

Contrast this to Naomi, who spends the first seven minutes of the show complaining that Melissa got a second one on one date while she still hadn’t gotten hers (patience v. entitlement). When Melissa’s date gets cancelled, the producer shows Naomi complaining that Melissa’s now going to get Ty time (we later learn that doesn’t really happen). Finally, Naomi’s date envelope comes and she starts whispering to the camera that Melissa is acting jealous of her. They’re making her out to be a few floats short of a seaplane or should it be blades short of a helicopter? I thought the woman was a flight attendant not a Stewarditz. To top it off, they show Aunt Stephanie, reality tv’s first ever nominee for the Nobel Peace Prize, questioning Naomi’s maturity. You’re really going to have the most popular Bachelor yet hook up with Naomi? You might as well have Deanna Pappas, who wanted three kids by age 30, run off with a snowboarder.

Meanwhile, Jason kept checking in with Jillian and Molly in painfully non-descript encounters. Over coffee and pastries with Jillian (which neither consumes) they discuss how she needs to “get in the game”, whatever the heck that means. He walks with Molly near Pike Place Market and she informs him that she had a long term boyfriend whom her parents didn’t like. Naomi’s conversation isn’t exactly scintillating either except for the bit about her mother leaving the family (possibly a reminder that Jason’s first wife allegedly left to “find” herself too). Throughout, Jason does the “good guy” bit. He’s always checking in with the ladies, relates to everything they feel(did he remind anyone that he was on the show once before and in their position himself yet?), and then tells them either how special they are or how glad he was they got to talk. I got the impression that rest of the cast was waiting to find out what was so dramatic about that final rose ceremony too.

The episode didn’t really perk up until they showed previews. We learned that Jillian’s mother suffered from depression (funny, I keep seeing those ads for that drug that helps with depression). It wasn't clear if Jason plays beer pong with Molly’s family then paints his naked body red and runs across campus in the snow. Of course, we also got the real teaser. We learned that Melissa Rycroft was on the show once before as Amber AlChalabi when she pretended to already be a first grade teacher from Houston instead of Dallas. A quick thinking Jason whisks Melissa into the hot tub to compare that tattoo on her lower back to the hot tub scene with Andy Baldwin and Amber.

In the meantime, I see Ty waking up in the morning and finding two half-empty wine glasses on the coffee table next to the controllers for his Nintendo Wii. He dusts them for fingerprints then waits until Tuesday night to send them to the crime lab on Law and Order SVU. In a very special guest appearance, Marissa Hargitay calls to inform Ty that they have a match. They’ve found a secret laborotory where they make Bachelor contestants in upstate New York in the town of Stepford where they erase memories, recycle back stories, etc. Apparently they have enough material for three hundred more installments of the show. Detective Benson sends Ty a video of his dad saying, “Melissa is just so perfect, I’m waiting to see just something a little bit wrong.”

(Damn, her family threatened not to show up for that hometown date. Imagine that?) Ty begins crying. “I don’t want to lose my Dad to some cheerleader robot. It’s embarrassing enough that he got dumped by that idiot woman with the funny accent.”

Detective Benson, soothes him, “Ty don’t worry the FBI has already sent it’s best team up there, two agents named Scully and Mulder. The Truth is out there.”

“You mean it doesn’t matter what Reality Steve knows?”

“In three weeks we’ll all know and then two weeks after that most of us won’t care anyway.”

Anyway, when Melissa’s dog poops on the carpet and Jason’s the only one who notices, just remember you saw it here first. So, I had a big scoop for you after all. :}

Chris Harrison's blog
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A Vengeful Longing by R.N. Morris (book review)

2009-01-30T12:10:00.000-08:00

Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment is not just literary fiction. Many argue that it’s also the first great detective novel. Porfiry Petrovich, the St. Petersburg magistrate who “catches” Raskolnikov doesn’t jump out of windows, get in chases on horseback, or fight anyone. He’s as much psychologist as policeman and takes as much of an interest in rescuing Raskolnikov’s soul as he does in arresting and punishing the young man. I’m not sure why it took a hundred and forty years for any writer to take on the task of extending the detective Porfiry’s log of investigations beyond Crime and Punishment, but I’m glad that R.N. Morris did.

Morris’s first Porfiry adventure, The Gentle Axe, was so successful that the publisher has authorized two sequels. Now that I’ve finished Morris’s second installment, A Vengeful Longing, I was happy to hear the other day that he’s completed his first draft of the third, A Razor Wrapped in Silk. If you’re a follower of detective fiction, you probably know that the measure of any series is generally not the first book. I shouldn’t say that anyone can write a single crime novel. Most of us can’t. Still it’s really the second that signals readers that the author has managed to create a detective character and a world rich enough to sustain multiple adventures.

I don’t think there’s any question that Dostoyevsky’s Porfiry, really a much more minor character mesasured by scene space in Crime and Punishment than most people realize, had that potential. It’s more a matter of “Who would have the guts to invoke Dostoyevsky?” in a crime series. In Gentle Axe, Morris did so with refreshing brio. He started with a geometric puzzle: a prostitute wanders into a park and finds a large man hanging from a tree next to a suitcase that turns out to contain the mutilated corpse of a dwarf. Porfiry follows a lead to a starving student and there’s a touching scene in which the Magistrate gets Virginsky a bowl of soup from the exploitative landlady. The reader quickly realizes that the geometric puzzle that opens the story works on several levels. Morris is also transposing the elements of Crime and Punishment. Prostitute, axe, and student on the verge of either redemption or oblivion all get rearranged in such a way that Morris’s Porfiry both homages Dostoyevsky’s version and creates enough space for the author to bring the touches necessary to let Porfiry move forward on his own. Not surprisingly, Gentle Axe amounts to a second chance for Porfiry to rescue rather than convict the potential represented in Raskolnikov.

In A Vengeful Longing, Virginsky becomes Robin to Porfiry’s Batman. In the process, Morris moves out of the territory of being a Dostoyevsky “impressionist” to developing something with more of an energy of its own. For one, he liberates Porfiry the character from Dostoyevsky the writer. Where Dostoyevsky grew increasingly anti-western and conservative politically and religiously after 1867, Morris stays with Porfiry’s humanism. As Porfiry works his way through a series of seemingly unrelated murders (a doctor’s wife and her autistic child are poisoned with French chocolates, an army officer is killed with a dueling pistol, a tailor is stabbed) he insists on understanding the psychology of both the victims and the most likely suspects. In each case, he works his way through a guilt racked tour of the demons haunting educated Russian society but refuses to believe that every individual with demons is necessarily a murderer. In the meantime, he teaches the idealistic and gentle Virginsky the toughness necessary to be a detective, a source of order and moral rectitude in a Russian society that appears capable of neither.

One of the things that Morris brings to 19th Century St. Petersburg that Dostoyevsky could not is the building sense of the coming revolution. With surprisingly few details, Morris paints a haunting portrait of a doomed city and culture. He artfully uses the image of the Neva river, polluted by the dumping of human waste directly into its waters, to show how the indifference of an immobile bureaucracy and a dissipated ruling class will inevitably flow back to them. The reader readily sees how the injustices of 19th century St. Petersburg where a man loses six daughters to the cholera passed by the river’s pollution and winds up in an insane asylum for writing a letter to the Court about it will never be containable. Symbolically, the pollution of the river runs through the plot in significant ways as Porfiry repeatedly sends letters about the stench from the river to bureaucrats who never seem to answer.

At points, Morris also stirs in bits of Gogol with allusions to a civil servant paying to put a fur collar on an overcoat and an oddly modern scene where a pack of anonymous bureaucrats get their revenge and escape punishment via their own facelessness, personal dignity being a significant plot element. Porfiry though remains the star of the show. There is something compelling about his simultaneous awareness that Russia is supposed to be a better place and his recognition that he must both survive and keep his own soul as a decent man in a culture doomed by its own corruption. Early in the book, he dances around his own sympathies for the radicals while trying to protect a young bakery employee caught with anarchist pamphlets. Later, he traps flies with trays of honey laced with alcohol. Virginsky asks the magistrate “Why don’t you just poison them?” and Porfiry replies “What would be the fun in that?”

Porfiry thus establishes himself as a classic existential detective, an individual dedicated to the redemption of the individual in a society so rife with corruption and indifference that collapse is inevitable. At some point, the reader realizes that Morris isn’t simply talking about 19th century St. Petersburg, but may instead be pointing forward to dilemmas faced in modern culture that may have more parallels to Porfiry’s world than we care to admit.

I would mention that there is a passing resemblance between Morris's premise and Caleb Carr's The Alienest in that Carr built a series around a 19th century crime solving psychologist in Gilded Age New York City instead of St. Petersburg. Carr tends to focus more on period detail while Morris stays with character and I think in the long run that pays off.

There is a moment with any detective series, when the reader realizes that he or she may well be reading every book in the series. With a Vengeful Longing, that may have happened for me and Porfiry Petrovich. I guess that makes me one of those flies now drawn to R.N. Morris’s honey and left to his mercies as Porfiry’s new keeper.

Fwiw, I should mention that I was drawn to the Gentle Axe and Vengeful Longing because I’ve known Roger Morris via the internet for a couple years. One measure of what a nice fellow he is that we started exchanging e-mails because he read one of my stories and sent me an e-mail about it. It’s rare for a well known/or rising writer to extend such an unbidden kindness to one of far more modest accomplishments. I do hope we meet someday in person and not as part of a police investigation.
chancelucky

Kissing the Dog (Bachelor 13 Round of 9)

2009-01-27T21:08:00.000-08:00

A lot happened on the Bachelor last night, but all I can remember is having this nightmare where my dog brushed her teeth with my electric toothbrush then started French kissing me. If the edit during Brad Womack’s made Hillary Reisinger appear far crazier than she actually was, Shannon Bair’s re-set the bar.

She started with the fake teeth, moved on to knowing every detail of Jason and Ty Mesnick’s life, threw up in the bathroom mid-rose ceremony, and ended with talk of re-rehearsing for General Hospital with her dog. The whole bit made me think of the Molly Shannon movie Year of the Dog (yes, I know it’s really obscure) where the main character wasn’t wired like the rest of us, but turned out to be oddly sympathetic. Believe it or not, I liked Shannon Bair.

I got the impression that she was out of her league in Bachelor terms. In the regular world, Shannon Bair is more attractive than average, funny, and sensitive. In other words, she’s probably the sort of person Jason Mesnick, the insurance salesman, single Dad, who really doesn’t have that much to say might date had he never appeared on the Bachelor.

Such is the power of tv, that asking Deanna Pappas about her mom turned Jason Mesnick into the sort of guy that actual Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders not only are willing to chase, but they turn possessive and insecure? Okay, I had a look at all those bikini shots that came with Melissa Rycroft’s Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader calendar shoot. As long as a woman who photographs like that doesn’t have the personality of Dick Cheney, a guy like Jason (real Jason) won’t be able to say “no.”

Anyway, here was Shannon Bair in this land of the makeup, sparkly dresses, and cleavage wandering the set with less than stellar makeup and not so flattering dress. How could she expect to compete for attention with the Pageant girls, cheerleaders, and popular types? It occurred to me that if I were a single female in my twenties, I’d be way more like Shannon Bair than her competition. When she went into “I just want to meet Ty” bit, something went all Rudy (keep in mind that Rudy is basically a Notre Dame football stalker) inside me. Okay, regular people aren’t this quirky and if they are this desperate they manage not to break down crying repeatedly on national television (if you remember Sanjaya Malakar on Idol and the crying girl, Shannon was sort of the Bachelor version), but if you’re Shannon, how do you get the guy’s attention? So she flailed around, wore the dress her mom helped her pick out for the pre-rose parties, and maybe got tongue tied during her camera time. (If you follow Chris Harrison’s blog, there was a hint or two that Shannon’s better moments involving suntan lotion had to be edited) I still say there was something compelling even touching about Shannon Bair’s awkwardness. I also thought her rap was much better than Jason’s. She lasted four episodes, got to kiss the Bachelor on the mouth (even if it was acting), and he even said nice stuff to her at the end. It was a victory for those of us who can’t dress, happen to be a little odd, can’t smooth talk, etc. in the dating show world.

Even though she is one of the pageant queens, there was a similar thing with Nikki Kaapke. She was stiff and maybe didn’t have tv charm, but her whole exit was so gracious that I’m rooting for her in real life. Eleven years is an awful long time to figure out that a relationship’s maybe not headed for marriage, but that’s not actually my business. I think Melissa Rycroft had an eight year relationship so I suspect Nikki and Melissa couldn’t occupy the same reality tv continuum for more than three episodes. That’s the sad thing, I have this feeling that Nikki or even Shannon might be the actual match for Jason Mesnick outside of reality tv.

After I managed to get that dog kissing image out of my head, I have to say that this was more the Jason I had hoped to see. The first three episodes had Jason pulling his shirt off almost as much as Brad Womack then trying to see if he could kiss more girls than Bob Guiney and Matt Grant combined (brilliant). This time, he had the judgment to apply the make-out brakes. Maybe the sheer excess of all those General Hospital kissing scenes did it, but Jason proved to be something of a romantic gymnast diverting kisses, exchanging hugs, and reassuring various ladies not named Melissa that he thought they were “great and special.”

Jason did not get America rooting for him because he was Mr. Eligible. He’s an attractive man, but he’s not “the sexiest bachelor ever” a la Brad Womack. He’s not wealthy or glamorous. With Deanna, part of his charm came from the fact that he was so nervous about revealing the Ty thing. Bachelor America got sold Jason Mesnick because he was so sincere both as a Dad and as a contestant. I’d mention that that’s exactly what good salesman do, but there was a palpable sense of decency that jumped off Jason that created a different kind of charisma for him. The fact that he handled the “failed” proposal and its aftermath just multiplied the Jason mojo. Jason was the guy who had bothered to ask Deanna about her mother. He was the guy who had been at the house consoling her after she dumped Fred and Robert. It was a kind of tv charm that got revealed and proven rather than the bright-shiny that normally fuels dating shows.

The point of Bachelor Jason should never have been to admire the guy’s six pack or to watch him dazzle the ladies. The idea was to find him the woman/happiness, Ty seemed to deserve. It’s not that Bachelor Jason did anything all that wrong the first three episodes. It was more that he didn’t get the chance to be the guy Bachelor America fell for. The one notable exception was his going to look after Shannon in the bathroom. This episode, the Jason we craved took the lead (ballroom dance lessons are good for something). He wasn’t going to kiss anyone who didn’t have a serious chance (the Lauren Wanger kiss thing wasn’t really his doing) and he made the point that he’s serious about what many consider the show’s most questionable premise, I really expect to find a wife in this Fleiss-addled mess.

He wasn’t especially smooth, didn’t always have exactly the right thing to say to Megan or Shannon as they locked in the make-out target. Nonetheless, the whole nice guy thing just sort of jumped off the screen again. It struck me that Jason isn’t on the show to be “famous” and that he really doesn’t take any pleasure in hurting women’s feelings. He really does just want to get down with that Cheerleader woman while she’s still buying and he doesn’t want extended footage of himself with someone else messing up the aftermath. Most couples have some sort of romantic past. It’s just that even in the age of the cellphone camera, very few of us have our pasts on Tivo or the equivalent.

I do think the producers were wise to let some of the chemistry with Melissa Rycroft come through the edit this week. It wasn’t necessarily the kissing, it was little moments like the extra touches and glances when he walked by her during the General Hospital date. By the way, for a show that stocks up on actress-model-whatevers, how come none of them can act? Lauren Wanger actually could sing a little, not at the I would pay to download her music level, but I do agree with her that her Jason song was actually surprisingly passable compared to the singer/songwriter wannabe on Matt Grant’s installment. While her post credits song about “I wanna be famous” was revealing, I still say that Jason totally jobbed her for the camping date rose. Am I the only one who finds it weird that they did both American Idol and Dancing with the Stars in the same Bachelor episode. If you throw in the oysters, they've also done Fear Factor.

My take on Lauren Wanger is that she more or less saw the way this was going and just decided to have some fun. “Let me see if Jason will respond to my dominating him! Give me a rose, boy. Bark like a dog! Kiss Shannon on the mouth!”
It looked like she started playing to the camera by calling him her “future husband” and all that. I mean if someone chose Molly’s song over mine, I’d have pretty much gotten the message too and decided to wreak a little reality havoc.

I honestly didn’t see much chemistry with Molly. At this point, I’ve gotten a little tired of seeing Jason ask a lady “What do you want in life?” and having her answer “I’m ready….I’m ready. I want marriage. I want children. I love Ty already because he’s part of you.” Don’t any of these women have anything else serious in their lives? I wouldn’t mind seeing someone say, “I want to solve the sub-prime mortgage problem or I want to take care of my younger sister who’s on the autism spectrum.” As a group, it’s pretty noticeable that none of Jason’s choices have careers or hobbies worth mentioning. No one paints, plays music, writes, or even blogs about the Bachelor. Let me drop a hint here. Jason was the guy who loved to travel. Maybe say something about how much you want to explore the world. Anyway, the only thing memorable about the camping date was that the show did its darndest to make America wonder if Jason and Molly had done the nasty in that tent. My guess is that those sound effects were dubbed fwiw.

I’m not sure what to make of Aunt Stephanie. First she keeps comparing being widowed in a plane crash to Jason getting divorced.Ty still sees his mom. Ty’s mom even appears to be remarried and might have another kid. Stephanie Hogan seems like a very nice lady and I know they have to let Ty have a play date with someone’s kid. Still the Yma Sumac singing thing, the Arthur Murray dancing, and the whole “I’m dying to kiss Jason” bit, I’m ready for Jason to send her back to 1954 so she can hook up with Marty Macfly. May I point out that Aunt Stephanie is the last of the Mommy Talkers still standing. Jason’s made his actual taste in women pretty clear and I just don’t get the vibe that he’s looking forward to doing the fantasy suite with Aunt Stephanie.

In the meantime, it looks like Jason goes flying with Naomi Crespo, kind of an odd date for a stewardess unless she gets to spill things on him. My guess is that Jillian gets to find out what Jason puts on his hot dog (if they do that and the show keeps going there or at least keeps implying it, I do hope he does put something on it) a couple weeks from now….There is the whole Deanna thing coming up some time soon, but what I really want to see is why Melissa, or anyone else, is actually suitable for Jason the Mensch. Melissa’s funny. She shares her feelings and the details of her mammary history. I would just like to see the eventual winner (no I don’t know who it is) show the heart and decency that make her a match for the Jason Mesnick we imagined when this installment started. It started to get there when she began analyzing the holes in his ears, but it hasn’t happened yet.

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Red Rose Cafe (Obama as icon)

2009-01-25T11:12:00.000-08:00

I’ve been stopping for lunch lately at a place called the Red Rose café. I used to go there for breakfast from time to time, but they’ve changed owners at least twice. Piner Road in Santa Rosa has always been a mixed industrial commercial section which now consists of a series of strip malls punctuated by power tool and tire stores from back when it was mostly auto repair places. One of the clearer signs of the recession is that each strip mall has at least one vacancy or one store that’s in the midst of going out of business. I’ve also noticed that “Grand Openings” seem to last for more than a year these days. Simply put, it’s getting scary.

The Red Rose café’s new specialty is soul food. My county’s always had a relatively small African-American population. Every few years there’s some place like Soul Brother’s kitchen or Oklahoma Barbeque that appears then disappears. The food at the new version of the Red Rose is quite good. Two days a week they have a buffet that includes red beans and rice, fried chicken (really good), greens, etc. that’s probably one of the better deals going at eight fifty all you can eat. The young woman who waits tables there is very friendly and professional. Children are often there playing near the counter, so I assume it’s a family operation.

The most notable thing about the décor is that the restaurant has two life-sized cutouts of President Obama. The front window has a portrait painted on the glass. There are at least two posters on the wall of Obama and Martin Luther King side by side. There’s also a series of portraits of black historical figures that includes Sojourner Truth and Booker T. Washington. It’s not the usual restaurant décor. More than anything, it reminds me of the way families and businesses frequently put up pictures of John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King when I was a child. My insurance agent used to have a picture of Ronald Reagan in his office, but it was personally signed. I’ve never seen photos of George W. Bush hung in anyone’s living room or place of business. Of course, this may be a function of the company I keep. I’d also mention that I’ve never seen Bill Clinton photos.

If we had an Asian president, I’d be excited too. I don’t know that I’d put photos up in my office, but it would be a pretty important symbol of inclusion. It was even a pretty big deal to me when Tiger Woods (think about it, they don’t have Tigers in Africa) started winning golf tournaments. I do think it goes beyond ethnic identification though. Fwiw, my guess is that there are easily as many people in my county who are mixed to the extent that they are as much white as they are black (like Obama). I think a lot of it is that they see Obama as someone who cares about the “little folk” (for all I know the owners of the Red Rose are actually millionaires several times over, but I’ll assume they’re not). Back in the sixties that was the point of the JFK and MLK portraits. Obama iconography is clearly a big business these days.

The newish mom and pop businesses I see in these strip malls all feel very fragile right now. I keep telling my wife that I can’t imagine a worse time to have put your life savings into a business like that. For instance, all the non-chain video stores in my county have pretty much disappeared. With supermarkets now open 24-7, convenience markets have disappeared as well. The mom and pop storefront is unquestionably an endangered species. They are what the entrepreneurial spirit, that we talked about so much for the last twenty plus years, looks like, yet I now drive by them shake my head and wonder what’s going to happen to the people inside in nine months.

The mom and pop business and the “Garage”, that place where people once went to tinker and invent, stand for “the dreamer” aspect of the American economy. For years, Thomas Edison was the saint of the garage until his image gave way to Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak. A generation ago, big businesses used to routinely post pictures of the little hamburger stands or storefronts that had once been their roots. We owe much of what we’ve achieved as a country to these two traditions. As much as John McCain talked about helping these folk out, I never saw a single one of these places that put up a portrait of John McCain (though I don’t personally know Joe the Plumber). Instead, Obama is the one they trust and believe in. My guess is that the success of the Obama administration might be measured in the number these places that open and flourish in the next four years. They may be the best single barometer we have of how much faith regular people have in our economy.

If you’re ever in Santa Rosa and not too diet conscious, I’d also suggest that you check out the Red Rose Café.

chancelucky

Airbama (Inaugural thoughts)

2009-01-21T11:51:00.000-08:00

I got to work yesterday and there was hardly anyone there. Most of the office had gone to watch President Obama’s Inaugural speech. I decided to watch on my work computer over the Internet. It seemed fitting. I have vague memories of watching JFK’s inauguration. To be honest, I can’t say if they’re live memories or I’ve seen so much tape of it over the years that I think I actually saw the “Ask not what your country can do for you” a speech that eventually played in every elementary school in America. JFK was the first American President to master the television and his speech with its 19th century locution was perhaps JFK truly great tv moment. Obama is the first successful Presidential candidate to mobilized his campaign through the internet. It only made sense to usher in the new age this presidency represents by watching via T1 connection instead of through rabbit ears.

To many, yesterday’s highlight was Chief Justice Roberts’s flubbing of the lines for the oath of office and what it meant. I figured that he’d be demanding to see Obama’s birth certificate. He was maybe anticipating how to handle pronouncing the “Hussein” part of our President’s formal name for maximum effect to get back at Senator Obama for voting against his confirmation as Chief Justice. Anyway, when they strangled the word “faithfully”, a really sharp camera crew would have cut immediately to soon to be Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.

I think a lot of people were surprised by President Obama’s relatively short and in some ways low key inaugural speech. He delivered it well and it had several fine lines in it, but I don’t anticipate it being played endlessly in every elementary school in America. It’s more important that we actually improve our public schools (something this administration is claiming to be serious about) than it is to play speeches in them. It’s clear to me that our new basketball playing President didn’t take the opening tip and go in for the spinning-double-pumping- oratorical slam dunk.

Since one of my goals in the next, hopefully, eight years is to play basketball with the President (his brother in law is the head coach at Oregon State), I’m going to indulge in a couple basketball stories. While he’s mostly known for mountain biking and trumping up weapons of mass destruction evidence, George W. Bush also played basketball at one time. Ron Suskind tells a story that ex-President (I love the sound of that) Bush played on an intra-mural team while he was at Harvard Business School (as I understand it one of the few things he showed up for regularly there) and wound up guarding the other team’s best player. Recognizing that he was outmatched, the young future oil entrepreneur took to simply slugging his opponent. This being Harvard and a vaguely gentlemanly place even on the basketball court, they didn’t throw George W. Bush out of the game and more to the point the other guy just didn’t have it in him to slug back (one of those two wrongs don’t make a right just a right winger things). As they say, sports doesn’t build character, it reveals it. Naturally, Bush’s team won the game and the championship.

When Barack Obama started dating Michelle Robinson, her brother Craig (twice Ivy league player of the year at Princeton) decided to check her sister’s boyfriend out on the basketball court. Although Obama apparently is pretty good, I suspect that he didn’t have much of a chance to outplay Craig Robinson who’s 6’6 and was recruited by Purdue and the University of Washington in his time and who’s clearly damn good. I think it’s worth noting that this future President didn’t resort to simply hitting Craig Robinson just to win a pickup game. He apparently kept his eye on the real reason the two of them were out playing and won the bigger prize of getting Michelle Robinson’s big brother’s approval as an okay player and a good guy.

I can’t tell a Chicago basketball story without finding some way to invoke his Airness? Back when Michael Jordan was post-baseball and on his second tour of duty with the Bulls, his team came to Oakland to play the Warriors. Thanks to a work friend I barely knew, I got the opportunity to see Jordan play live. This was the year that the Bulls set an NBA record for games won in a season. The Bulls were in the middle of a long road trip. In fact, they were playing their third road game in three days. Jordan and the Bulls came out in the first three quarters looking pretty much like any NBA team. They were just good enough to keep it a game while the Warriors led by the immortal Latrell Sprewell were looking great. I did notice that every time the Bulls were in danger of falling too far off the pace, Jordan would just happen to make a play. I turned to my friend at one point and said, “I don’t know about this whole Jordan thing, he’s good but I don’t see special.”

The friend said, “NBA games have four quarters. Whatever happens in the first three don’t matter as long as you can stay close into the last five minutes.”

Sure enough, the Warriors had a three point lead going into the middle of the fourth quarter when Jordan started making a series of spectacular plays. It came down to Jordan making an unbelievable twisting layup to put the Bulls ahead. Sprewell came back and missed a short jumper. Jordan then hit more or less the same short jumper in the lane to make it a two basket lead. Once I saw all four quarters of the game, I understood a whole lot better. Jordan was Jordan because he basically willed his team to win that game. It wasn’t so much that he carried the team at the end. It was more that he forced the other Bulls to keep the team in the game with minimal contributions from their star so that he’d have the energy to show up at the moment that mattered.

President Obama’s call for an America built on fairness and an America that faces and takes on challenges feels a lot like that Bulls game. The presidency is a four year office. You don’t win the game in the first quarter of an NBA game, but you can lose it. Just as he handled the debates, he did not go for the knockout punch so much as he appeared to be making sure that he’ll be around and in a position to win when it’s all on the line. In addition, if a guy in a basketball game hits four three pointers and makes three dunks in the first quarter it often results in his team relaxing and expecting their star to do it all. By toning it down, I suspect the President was trying to remind us that our ultimate success depends on us as much as it depends on anything he does or doesn’t do as President.

The various crises facing America are serious and President Obama is telling us pretty clearly that the war on terror, the economic crisis, the environment are “team sports”. The last thing he wants is to send the message that he’s the star or the saviour.

I believe it takes a certain amount of wisdom to make a move like this. He’s not claiming to have a singular brilliant idea or move to the basket that’s going to rescue America and the world. I believe he’s carving out the necessary space to fail a little before he has the chance to engineer a genuinely successful Presidency. My guess is that he’s been studying FDR pretty carefully. People forget that the New Deal wasn’t a runaway success straight out of the gate (see Schechter vs. the United States). What was a success almost immediately, was FDR’s capacity to use the radio as a medium for letting Americans know that everyone in America mattered to the New Deal and that everyone was expected to contribute and sacrifice.

Anyway, my current identified dream is to get on the court with President Obama. In order to do that, my take is that this captain expects me to show my commitment and willingess to work for the team. He’s not going to magically grant me playing time say the way Alberto Gonzales got on team Bush. It’s the way it should be. I’d even take an oath to faithfully uphold that proposition.

chancelucky

As the Jason Turns (Bachelor 13 round of 12)

2009-01-20T14:43:00.000-08:00

Somewhere in the middle of Natalie Getz’s failed Las Vegas date with Jason Mesnick, it struck me that she’d been cast on the wrong installment of the Bachelor. The shopping-obsessed life of the party would have given Shayne a serious run for her shoe money during Matt Grant’s season. She also was blonde enough to have lasted a while with Jesse Palmer. Can you imagine the Ah Ha moment we could have had when Jesse confessed that he’d gotten tired of waking up next to strangers and Natalie revealed that she was ready for marriage and children because she was tired of partying every night? After Jason failed to offer the rose, it seemed more like Natalie was really the other cast member for True Beauty and simply showed up two hours too early. “Whatever! I can’t believe I swallowed oysters for that loser.”

Even as Jason tried to explain that maybe “People might be surprised that a hottie like me with perfect taste in outfits actually loves children” might have not have made the most persuasive case for being Ty’s step mom, Natalie seemed determined to throw the rest of the house under the limo of shame with her. I wish they hadn’t edited the bit about Ty making a much cuter accessory than a Chihuaha. It’s just not fair the way people misjudge Paris Hilton wannabes. In the meantime, it seems like the odds on the Pretty Woman date are even worse than getting the first impression rose.

Yes, Jason figures out that Natalie may be “not ready” and possibly just a tad shallow, so naturally he gives her judgment about the other ladies the deference it’s due by essentially going all Ken Starr. In the course of the longest pre-rose cocktail party in history (46 minutes?), Jason expertly grills the ladies on who the b*#$*#s are in the house while finding time to make out with about five of them in succession. Here are examples of Jason’s probing questions, “Molly, I know for sure you’re not one of the problems in the house, but….” Since Lauren was the only one who named names (the House UnBachelorlike Activties committee this is not), I’m pretty sure that Jason’s basic test was did he make out with the lady at least as long he talked with her about the emotional turmoil in the house. If he kissed her long enough, he would then slap one of those Chiquita banana stickers on her and hand her a rose at the end of the night.

Fascinatingly, he does talk to Erica DEsimone but the edit only shows her claiming that she caught Jason looking at her boobs. Classy lady that she is, Erica goes on about it for a while. It was great tv. Even if she hadn’t played a lead role in the cattiest rose ceremony ever, I never thought Erica was much more than opening cocktail party fodder. A couple of those shots of her from behind were decidedly unflattering. More significant, it was hard for me to imagine Erica as a stepmother except as the kind who might be in the Grimm’s Brothers fairy tales.

After six hours of Jason as lead, I have to say that Jason himself just isn’t all that interesting. He appears to know four words, “Amazing”, “Ty”, “Great”, and “Special”. To make up for it, Fleiss keeps making him take his shirt off. I’m noticing that it wasn’t just Nikki who hit a dead spot conversationally with Jason. He really doesn’t have all that much to say, so they do things like use Stephanie to throw Jason’s corniest lines from Deanna’s season right back at him, like “Now I know I can love again.”

Faced with his own line a couple times, Jason looked profoundly uncomfortable. Part of the problem is that Stephanie seems fun, though very southern, but there’s this creepy vibe of her being Jason’s mom’s barely age appropriate friend who’s gotten this crush on Jason while still playing bridge and organizing the charity functions every week with Jason’s mom. Yes, their kids are the same age and Stephanie’s only a few calendar years older than Jason, but she feels about ten years older than Jason. If Natalie Getz is on the wrong season of the Bachelor, Stephanie appears to be the perfect contestant for “Who Wants to Date my Dad.”

I also have to say that was maybe the most awkward four year old’s birthday party ever. I don’t think it’s any little kid’s fantasy to run around a deserted Lego Land (which would be cool), while Mom puts the make on some total stranger after spending the last couple years telling you that Dad’s flying around somewhere in heaven. I kept waiting for little Sophia to say “If this is my birthday party, where the heck are the other kids?” or “Mom, they flew me out here on that long-assed plane flight which given the way Daddy died scared the shit out of me to be flying without you and you’re telling me we don’t get any alone time? You’ve got to be kidding!”

I figure in ten years, they’ll have Jerry Springer shows like “I was used as a prop on reality tv”. A now sixteen year old Sophie will be sitting there with nose ring, purple hair, and black-dyed fairy dress watching clips of her mother tackling her on the beach and yelling “Roll Tide” then screaming at Jerry about how embarrassing it was having to watch her mother by the fireplace trying to get Jason Mesnick to kiss her on the lips after he’s kissed five other women. Ty Mesnick would follow and he’d talk about how he spent three months trying to track down Deanna Pappas to convince her to fulfill her TV destiny and be his “Mom”. Ty then stuns the audience by breaking out a blue golf ball that he’s kept in his pocket since 2008 and proclaims, “You named a star for me. I wanted to be your little star.” Jerry then explains that Ty was arrested a few months earlier for throwing golf balls at unsuspecting snowboarders.

Btw, Jason’s Ex aka Ty’s real mom must have gotten one heck of a contract. She has no name, we never see her, and we’re often left with the impression that Jason’s a widower.

This is what I see. Jason came to our living rooms as Ward Cleaver 2 or maybe Courtship of Ty’s Father. He’s supposed to be all about family values, loves his son, (did we say he loves his son?), and he’s just looking for the right woman to complete the picture. Since a significant percentage of past Bachelors have been (there’s no gentler way to put it) “Players”, the Bachelor public has looked to Jason Mesnick to be the guy to break the show’s find ‘em, fantasy suite’em, forget ‘em slump. I do think he’s very sincere about the “Completing his family” mission, but I’m not sure the powers that be expected the horn dog side of Jason Mesnick to come out so quickly.

Currently, the house seems to be split into camps. There’s the I wanna be a “mommy” group that includes Megan Parris, Stephanie, Nikki, and Shannon Bair the stalker. There’s the hot-fun girls who are barely on the wholesome side of the Natalie Getz line. That would be Lauren Wanger (pageant girl), Naomi Crespo (exotic-looking stewardess), and Molly Malaney (professional kisser). Then there are Jillian and Melissa who manage to feel girlish like group two, yet also show hints of being grounded without the repeated proclamations that the Mommy and Me group does in lieu of actual conversation. There are only two actual moms left, Stephanie and Megan.

I do find it interesting that the Law and Order BIU ( Bachelor Investigations Unit) that relies on DNA samples from Facebook/Myspace and an extensive network of people who went to college, worked with, or sold a slurpee to various contestants at some point in the last twenty five years seem convinced that Jillian and Melissa stay around for quite a long time. In fact, some charter boat company in New Zealand seems to have confirmed that Melissa is at least in the final two. Most of the sleuthers seem convinced that Melissa gets the ring and that last 34FF rose.

I suspect the charity date captured Jason’s dual nature almost perfectly (yeah, I know he doesn’t really plan any of this stuff. Here were all these women saying “This is such a good cause, sure I’m willing to get naked on national television for breast cancer.”

In the meantime, Jason helps them apply plaster to the body parts that are not flat smooth surfaces. Megan paints a fetus on her cast because women with mastectomies can’t breast feed. Now there’s a potential winner’s edit for you :} Melissa Rycroft in the most intimate one on one confession yet reveals that she had breast reduction surgery as a teenager, “I could have been a pole dancer, a porn star, on a show with Brett Michaels, or I could do something truly meaningful with my life. I decided to have the breast reduction procedure and now I’m proud to say that I became a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader who wants to be a mom.”

I wonder if she asked Megan if the breast reduction thing will still let her breast feed? In the meantime, Naomi reveals that hers are lopsided and Shannon panics because she hasn’t gotten one on one time with Jason then hugs him just for saying hello to her. Yeah, this one is emotionally secure enough to be a stepmother. After all, being a step parent is just a matter of spending the next twelve years being compared negatively to the various biological parents who are either around or absent and subliminally blaming you for their absence. Jillian Harris, of course, solves the problem by deftly jumping on the bedroom set actually used in the Super Fly movies with Jason and snagging a rose. I have no idea where it came from. I’m just pretty sure that Jason has that scene in “Big” where Tom Hanks and Elizabeth Perkins jump on the bedroom trampoline freeze-framed on his home entertainment center.

I actually thought the most touching moment belonged to Nikki. Having talked about her love of kids and being there for the right reasons a couple dozen times too many, the former pageant winner doesn’t know how to be spontaneous. She doesn’t exactly relax in a later one on one, but she does yet again present Jason with her two biggest reasons for keeping her around and they exchange an extended kiss. Somewhere in there, Kari got her thirty seconds of camera time to let the camera know that she actually has a sister who had breast cancer. This, of course, justified the whole peep show cop a feel for charity bit. I understand that this segment was so successful that they’re planning a topless carwash for the homeless and a give a lapdance for lupus for future Bachelor seasons. It’s too bad they cut out the visit from rock and roll legend Cynthia Plaster Caster from this one.

I do think that they’ve made two good decisions this season. It’s better to leave a couple of the ladies without a date during the week. It clearly brings out the “Crazy” in the house. Second, they seem to be spending less time on the trappings of the “dates” and more on actual one to one conversations between Jason and his various choices though this episode might have gone a bit too far in that direction. I can’t remember which conversations were at the plaster caster date and which were pre-rose ceremony. Oddly, despite all this intimacy and kissing, there haven’t been any serious romantic vibes yet. That may be a good thing and they may be saving that part of the edit for the last few episodes. Hopefully, they won’t turn this season into three card monte a la Deanna and Brad’s seasons.

Perhaps the one truly great reality moments came when Shannon broke down during the insinuation fest of the pre-rose ceremony, ran off to the bathroom, and muttered, “I hate it here.”

Shortly thereafter, you hear her throwing up and then they cut to commercial with the sound of a flushing toilet (Fleiss once again reminds us that his productions are the epitome of television class and that he’s a cut above the bikini girl trying to make out with Ryan on American Idol). After three episodes of True Beauty, I was waiting for Cheryl Tiegs to come out and show us the one Bachelorette who had the inner beauty to come comfort Shannon. Instead, none of these ladies even turn in Shannon’s direction. It’s Jason who comes to her rescue. Perhaps, it’s because Shannon’s not really upset, it’s just morning sickness from carrying Jason’s cloned baby after she got the lock of his chest hair from an E-Bay auction. She genuinely did look ill. Not only that, Jason gives her a rose and he gives Megan a rose too for her insights into the real tragedy of breast cancer. Is it just me or did they play a commercial for “He’s Just Not that Into You” every time Megan or Stephanie got screen time?

Anyway, I can’t believe they didn’t save all this fun for next week’s real soap opera tie in, I mean segment. In the meantime, Mrs. Chancelucky has demanded that I bring her a dozen lego roses after I come home from work tonight. If I don’t, she’s threatening to lock me in a room alone with Erica and Megan.
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Mr. Congeniality (Bachelor 13 Round of 15)

2009-01-14T10:15:00.000-08:00

If you were to analyze the Bachelor’s ToV genome, it’s clear that the Dating Game was one of its direct ancestors. Another major part of the show’s television genetic code comes from the Miss America Pageant. Instead of Bert Parks, you get Chris Harrison. The show starts with a long parade of mostly forgettable contestants in weird gowns who’ve come from all over the United States. There’s a bathing suit competition (in this installment Fleiss went there twice last night). One of the big moments comes when the various contestants have to answer some open-ended question for the tv audience. Instead of “World Peace”, Bachelor contestants are expected to do some variation on “I really want to get married and raise children” aka the right reasons. There’s also some informal version of Miss Congeniality, some individual everyone likes who has no serious chance at the final rose. Btw, Given the way things always seem to turn out, wouldn’t it be better to get scholarship money instead of an engagement ring from some guy you’re going to stay with for all of six weeks beyond the show?

Anyway, Bob Guiney was probably the first Miss Congeniality on the show. Just off the top of my head, there was also Katie, the woman Jesse Palmer gave a rose to by accident who took it with such good humor, Fred (Ellen’s choice) from Deanna’s show (though word is that he started dating Noelle Drake, one of my favorite contestants from Matt’s show making Fred the actual winner of Deanna’s descent from Bachelor version of Scarlet O'hara to “Hey Dude, Where’s my Rose?” ) , and Sheena Stewart from Brad’s season. I’m certain that Erica from Connecticut is not going to be the Miss Congeniality for Jason’s season.

During the rose ceremony, Mrs. Chancelucky started yelling at the television set when Erica got her rose. If you remember Erica Rose from Lorenzo’s season, you too are probably wondering if “Erica” is the code name for “Drama Queen” on the Bachelor. Of course, if you are identified as a drama queen, I’m pretty sure the producers make sure you get a minimum of three or four roses. Otherwise I can’t think of any reason Jason would have given this Erica a rose. Megan seemed perfectly within her rights to call Erica on being two-faced. When Erica took the thing public, it had this “I’m going to crush you” edge that seemed genuinely mean rather than Fleiss-staged mean. Erica catching the boyfriend with the 52 year old was definitely TMI, but at this point does anyone blame the guy?

The whole “if you already have a rose, you shouldn’t steal cocktail party time from the ladies who don’t” rule makes sense to me. I just wish someone would codify all these rules, so the contestants wouldn’t have to spend so much time reviewing the protocols with one another. Racquel, for instance, could have looked up footage of Blaine Twilley’s hide in the bushes moment and learned that “stalking” doesn’t work that well either on the show or in real life. Fwiw, Jason’s body language in that moment was terrific. She might as well have said, “I really love snowboarding and hope we can go to Breck sometime.”

Actually, this might be the most stalkery installment of the show yet. In addition to our Brazilian Med student, who was really trying out for a bit part as intern who keeps bumping into Patrick Dempsey on the Seattle Grace elevator (mmmm…come to think of it there are some real crossover possibilities there), there’s Shannon Bair, the world’s leading authority on all things Jason Mesnick. There was the recently departed Sharon from New York who quit her job just to be on the show. There’s also the scary smooth, Molly Malaney of the “I’m a really good kisser” in front of a tv camera and seven other ladies. Seriously, what real golfer breaks his/her hands when demonstrating the purity of her swing?

I do rather like the idea of not giving everyone a date during a given week, the whole insecurity thing made for good tv. Speaking of insecurity, how much do you think Robin Thicke paid Mike Fleiss to get himself featured on the date at Disney Hall. I know if Suzanne Somers was once sort of your stepmother that excuses most anything, but I’m not sure the guy would make it out of the semi-finals of American Idol especially when he does the falsetto. Btw, What’s with all these women claiming they haven’t dated or kissed anyone since before Trista met Ryan? Is there some convent filled with pro sports cheerleaders and former pageant girls where they stash future Bachelorettes? I honestly don’t get it. These women who go on tv in these tiny bikinis and jump on Jason’s shoulders, kiss the guy after maybe talking to him twenty minutes after he’s kissed maybe three other ladies in the last ten minutes, wear evening gowns from Victoria’s Secret at the cocktail parties, then happily go off to the fantasy suite with the bachelor, all claim that they haven’t gone on a date or kissed a guy in three years.

I really wasn’t all that convinced about chemistry between Jason and Jillian Harris. While it was certainly better than that really iffy kiss with Naomi Crespo, the stewardess and philanthropist, it didn’t compare to whatever was going on with Melissa Rycroft. Later in the show, Jason makes his little speech about Lauren Wanger, the civics teacher, who tells Jason that she’s clearly uncomfortable because she’s not getting constant attention and reassurance from him. Jason, the psychology major, rationalizes that’s she’s used to being the center of attention. He later gives her a rose anyway. Let me translate, this is guy code for Jason’s into hot chicks. Whatever he says about a mom for Ty and the rigors of true compatibility, this guy’s real taste is for the ladies all the other guys notice.
You notice the pageant girls keep getting roses and the whole Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader thing is a total no-brainer. Was I the only one hoping that he’d ask Melissa if she knew Jenni Croft?

Oysters on the beach? What was that business with Jason watching her swallow the oyster followed by a giant talking blimp (do you want mustard or relish on your blimp). These producers sure are subtle! Okay, here’s another thing I don’t get. Why do the women always give the Bachelor all this credit for planning these elaborate dates? Like this is the most romantic date, I’ve ever been on repeated five times a show whether they’re on a blimp over Los Angeles or just atop some bank building with seven other women in bikinis all fighting for time with Jason. Did anyone send them the memo that it’s not the Bachelor who plans this stuff or who paid for all those outfits btw ladies, most guys don't like hearing that your fantasy is to have some guy pay for you to shop to your heart's content? Believe me, men do not get together and say that's exactly the sort of woman I want. If this is what’s really getting them off, they should be falling in love with Mike Fleiss or whatever underling talks some company into comping the resort, hall, whatever.

When Jason gets all excited because Melissa wants to be a first grade teacher, it did occur to me that there are like three other Bachelorettes who are already real teachers. I think about poor Sharon who quit her teaching job only to get dumped in the round of 15. Apparently, it’s not commutative. Cheerleader first then teacher equals smitten Jason. Teacher first then whatever equals who knows with this guy? As my friend Magic Bunny Slippers points out, do any of them notice that the guy’s an insurance salesman who lives with his brother and his three year old son. Do you really want to marry into some real life version of Two and a Half Men? Mmmmm….is Jason Mesnick secretly Charley Sheen? That’s not that far off, what are the odds that if Denise Richards came on the show and talked about her kids that Jason would give her at least enough roses to get to the fantasy suite date?

I really did like what happened with Lisa, the one who chose her sick grandmother over Jason. If you remember, Meredith Phillips had a similar choice to make during Bob Guiney’s season and she chose Bob over Nana’s funeral. Meredith then made up for it by taking Bob on her home visit to see Nana’s grave. Ever sensitive, Bob then used the occasion to stick his tongue down Meredith’s throat. When Lisa left, I went “What the hell? How manipulative can they get? They stuck a real person on this show.”

Of course, the producers quickly made up for it by using the occasion to let the ladies do their “One less rose to worry about” routine. I was further reassured that Fleiss hadn’t lost his touch for fake sentimentality when Megan asked Stephanie what happened to her husband and Stephanie then gets to do some scene written by Nicholas Sparks. The women tear up, hold hands, as Stephanie segues into how she has been through this tragic loss and now deserves Jason. Did I miss something there? I’m so devoted to my daughter, that I skipped her birthday (we learn that the producers help out on the next installment and likely fed her that line so they can introduce the little girl to Jason at a completely inappropriate time). I also spent all of my husband’s life insurance money on thousands of pieces of costume jewelry. Anyone here know any Bachelors with connections to the Home Shopping Network?

I am enjoying this whole “mom” strategy. Nikki, Megan, Stephanie, and Melissa pretty much spend all their Jason time talking about how much they like driving kids to soccer practice and helping with homework. Away from Jason, they tell one another how the other ladies have no idea how hard it is to really be a mom. Somehow, it doesn’t compute for Nikki or Melissa that they don’t have kids themselves. One, I’m not sure that’s what Jason’s really into. Two, the mom thing is not something you talk about loving, it’s something you show. Don’t any of you remember the whole Deanna story arc? She kept talking about getting married and raising a family, but when she was actually around Ty how comfortable did she actually look? Not that Jason noticed or even cared btw.

Circling back, I am curious to see what the “talent” portion of Bachelor Jason will be like (no I don't count the synchronized swimming). We did learn Molly’s talent. I do wonder if we’ll see Natalie’s when she goes on the Pretty Woman date (I still say it’s weird), and I’m still not quite sure who Kari is. In the past, we learned that Jeremy Anderson hit baseballs while his dead father watched over his stroke Angels in the Outfield style. We got to see Jenni Croft dance with dolphins. Tessa Horst faked a sprained ankle. Something tells me that this group won’t be outdone. Next week, they do the body cast thing so maybe we’ll see some “talents” there. Are they sharing writers with the Girls Next Door this season?

Btw, I do think they’ve found an excellent follow show to the Bachelor. True Beauty appears to provide a refreshing open snarkiness about its contestants that contrasts nicely with the Bachelor’s faux romanticism.
chancelucky
Buddy TV Bachelor page
Sirlinksalot Bachelorette

Vista Point

2009-01-11T21:28:00.000-08:00

My wife gave me a gym membership at Christmas. My doctor is threatening to put me on high blood pressure medication In addition, I'm dealing with various other quirks of middle age. So, I started going to the gym semi-regularly again. I'd been doing basketball twice a week, but they keep cancelling. The guys in the group are just getting too old, I suspect. A few years ago, I was riding my bike very regularly, but stopped because I was having trouble with a strained neck muscle and I kept getting flats.

The exercise bike at the gym has one of those screens that shows a cartoon version of some bike trail. If you go too slowly, animated bikers leave you in pixellated dust. On Saturday morning I had this urge to ride a real bike. Before I left the house, I made my usual fateful decision, “It's just a short ride, I don't need the patch kit, wallet, or cell phone.” I did take my MP3 player and spent two hours listening to a book called the Fruit Hunters which consists of endless descriptions of exotic fruit and the wonders of taste. I usually go seven miles out and then back home. Naturally, I go the flat at the seven mile mark.

I walked the bike to a shopping center, found a payphone (they do still have them), and tried to make a collect call to my wife. Everything's automated now and I'm not sure what happens when you make collect calls to a cell phone. Bottom line, the payphone company kept reporting that my wife wasn't accepting my collect call. Virtually no one in the shopping center spoke English. Most of the businesses were Hispanic, the doughnut shop was Cantonese, and the abandoned restaurant was Filipino (I never got to try it). As I pushed my bicycle around the center, I kept listening to the fruit book and discovered that every other store front had one of those outdoor barbeque things filling the air with the smell of grilled chicken. I waited for my wife for about 45 minutes, hoping that she understood my cryptic message “flat tire Dutton plaza”... I later learned that the message from the payphone company was getting to her as “flat tire duh”...She's lectured me a few times about flat tires being inevitable.. Naturally, I only get flats when I forget or refuse to take my patch kit and pump.

I was then about five miles from home and there was the small matter that we were taking our daughter to the airport that night. I walked another half mile, found a gas station, and the guy behind the counter there actually let me use the phone. My wife answered and said “Where the hell are you? I've been driving around Santa Rosa looking for you for the last forty five minutes.”

We got home, I collapsed, took about a forty five minute nap, helped pack the car, and we then headed to the city. For most of the last twenty years, we've treated our trips to San Francisco Airport as get there as fast as possible then drive home. For some reason, we've lately taken to going out to dinner (Cafe Pelligrini this time), staying in a hotel near the airport, dropping family member off at airport for early morning flight, going back to hotel near airport to go back to sleep and other stuff, stopping again on the way home, etc. You might say we're turning these excursions into a mini-vacation.

The one difference this time was that we unsuccessfully tried to see Norm McDonald at Cobb's Comedy Club (sold out) and only had fifteen minutes worth of patience for the standby line. Our daughter wanted to get her ears pierced. Since it was near nine, the only things nearby that might pierce ears were various North Beach tatoo parlors. My daughter then announced that she would not ask for a car (her current obsession) if I would get a giant tattoo. I didn't do it and the tatoo parlor people seemed horrified that we'd asked them if they did piercings. We wound up at the Stonestown Mall just before closing time and my wife (who's very ingenious about these things) actually found a jewelry store willing to pierce ears ten minutes before the custodians and security guards closed up the mall.

On the way back, we stopped at the Vista Point on the other side of the Golden Gate bridge. For the last twenty years, we've insisted that that's what the tourists do, but this was a gorgeous day and we were reminded just why the tourists go there. I think we heard at least five different languages as various people took photos with digital cameras and posed in front of the statue of the lone sailor that sits atop the Vista Point.

Once we got home, we realized that it's fairly simple. Our daughter was home for Christmas Break and at the end of three weeks, she was actually looking forward to getting back to school, her friends, and maybe even her classes. For the first twenty years, we've spent all this time trying to get our kids to various places. Suddenly, we have all this time and we're not exactly sure what you do when you actually plan your days off around each other instead of the kids.
chancelucky

Ty Goes to the Winner (Bachelor 13 Round of 25)

2009-01-07T00:05:00.000-08:00

It’s Bachelor time again and the news has been mixed for prior Bachelor couples. The big news was that Deanna Pappas dropped Jesse Csincsak about five months into their “engagement” possibly because he didn’t want a televised wedding. Deanna may now be the only person in America with a lower approval rating than George W. Bush and Bernard Madoff. There have been rumors that the soon to be ex-president and Laura Bush might divorce. Deanna did fall for at least one other guy who spent time in Austin. George W. Bush on a home visit would be a ratings bonanza. I can see him waterboarding would be Bachelorettes to make sure they're on his show for the “right reasons”, maybe having Dick Cheney come on the show for duck hunting and helpful advice about the ladies, and maybe doing a fantasy date in New Orleans as part of his journey. Condi, will you take this rose?

In the meantime, Matt Grant and Shayne Llamas broke up officially although they were so fake on Where Are They Now hardly anyone seriously believed they were still together. Mary Delgado got arrested again. On the positive end, Charley O’connell and Sarah Brice got back together (something to do with his dealing with the drinking issue) and Trista (Rehn) and Ryan Sutter (the franchise) are expecting another baby. Travis Stork also appears to have taken the lead in the “Ex- Bachelor how famous are they still” sweepstakes by getting his own medical advice show and dating American Idol’s Carrie Underwood. Andy Baldwin from the Bachelor installment Officer and a Celebrity got stationed somewhere in the Pacific.

Jason Mesnick was one of the most popular “losers” in Bachelor/Bachelorette history. Part of that is that has to do with the show’s cliché “Being there for the right reasons”. I don’t know that anyone made it clearer that he was there for “the right reasons” than this guy and he acted accordingly. Second, there’s a widespread belief that Deanna Pappas mistreated him or at least made a mistake. First she spent 2 full installments of the show telling America how much she was ready for marriage and family, then chose a professional snowboarder. Second, she let Jason get on his knee and propose when she already knew that her answer was “No”.

Second timers on the Bachelor have been about fifty-fifty. Bob Guiney, Jen Schett, and Deanna Pappas definitely should have quit while they were ahead. Trista obviously did very well. Meredith Phillips certainly fared well and Mary Delgado did very well her second time through, it was the real life relationship that tripped her up. Jason faces two challenges. Is his head going to be turned by all the attention and will the situation transform him from Bachelor-Dad into Bachelor-Cad? More significant, Jason’s taste in women doesn’t really match what he says he wants either. His first wife started doing music videos. Deanna turned out to be “All about the fun”. Maybe there’s a pattern there?

Going in, we know that Jason claims that he’s engaged to someone from his Bachelor experience. At the end of last night’s premiere, we also learned that Deanna returned in some capacity. There also seem to be a lot of posters who insist that Melissa Rycroft (the former Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader) is an uncanny combination of Deanna Pappas and Jenni Croft. She’s not only considered one of the favorites by the screencapistas, her resume doesn’t exactly send off “motherly” vibes. Okay, yeah I got burned last time because I trusted both Deanna and the producers to deliver what the edit seemed to be promising. I didn’t like feeling manipulated. If I wanted that, I’d start recapping Ashton Kutcher’s “True Beauty” instead (I might anyway). Anyway, I’m going into project “Find Ty Mesnick a Stepmom” even more skeptical than usual.

So lets’ begin! One agenda this year appears to be to establish Jason as “gorgeous”. I counted at least 5 occasions when some Bachelorette was moved to proclaim this for the camera last night. They’ve also thrown several single mothers into the mix possibly to test Jason’s intentions at a “good for the goose, good for the gander” level. Fwiw, Mrs. Chancelucky had two children when we met. Twenty years later (yikes) we have one more. Even though she had kids, she admits that she liked the fact that I didn’t.

I’d say that they didn’t exactly go to central casting to find tv moms, even though many of the ladies really are moms. Anyway, none of them exactly screamed June Cleaver or even Janine Turner as June Cleaver. One of the problems with letting the contestants do their own makeup and wardrobe is that they didn’t get the memo that Ty’s mom wasn’t likely to dress like Lyndsay Lohan or Jessica Simpson even if that’s been the custom in earlier Bachelor installments. My wife also had her usual complaint, “They didn’t stick Jason with the most attractive choices there.”

To be clear, she was referring to some of the behavior as well. So, I know it was a joke, but someone wearing the tiara and her Miss Illinois banner while holding her niece doesn’t necessarily strike me as Ty’s mom material nor does that level of cleavage exactly scream “Stepmom” now that Ty’s too old to breast feed (though if anyone remembers that wet nurse scene in the Last Emperor, I suppose it’s possible). The fact that she scored Jason's first impression rose maybe should be taken with a grain of milk in terms of where this installment may go.

Of course, Nikki’s not a mom, and I’d say that the new Morticia Addams, Stephanie, the widow from Alabama, probably set off the most alarms with her backyard shrine to her husband who “tragically died in a plane crash”…..like there are non-tragic ways to die in plane crashes. Anyway, the shrine takes the form of a giant cross and Stephanie tells her daughter that Dad went on a flight to heaven. There’s one little problem here. The last time I checked, Jason Mesnick was Jewish. While to a fundamentalist Christian having your wife run off with a rock band (I know that’s not really what happened to Jason) might be the same thing as having Dad die tragically in a plane crash, I don’t know that those are comparable events to Jason. He gives her a pity rose anyway a la Danielle from Andy’s season.

Stephanie should clearly have checked in with Sharon the stalker beforehand. Not only would she have gotten free dental floss for life, she would have known beforehand to downplay the cross thing, though maybe she’s assuming that Jason will convert once she gets him in the fantasy suite. As for Sharon, I would say that she should have watched Travis’s journey. The last lady to do the fake fangs thing got about ten more seconds of air time before the mystery suitcase movers showed up.

Fascinatingly, Jason consciously or not, cut several of the single moms. The second most notable mom got a rose the hard way. After confessing about the kid before she ever stepped into the house, Megan, the lacrosse coach, had the honor of being voted off by the other women. She was about to start arguing about hanging chads and apparently called the other women “bitches” when Chris Harrison reversed the field by telling her she got a rose instead of the door. We then got to see Jason mutter something about being concerned about anyone who couldn’t get along with the other ladies (I suspect that’s why Jeremy Anderson didn’t get to be one of his choices). Perhaps the most fascinating thing was that the ladies supposedly singled Megan out because she has a 14 month old and shouldn’t be leaving her child for that long just to be on the Bachelor. Think about this, they’re all hot for Jason who left a two year old son back in Seattle to meet a woman who ran off with a snowboard guy and who once wanted to marry a guy who owned a bunch of bars. Megan, somehow, is an unfit mother because she does more or less what Jason did. At least she didn’t quit her teaching job just to be on the show, talk about stalkers.

I was very glad that they stopped the whole bit with stupid Bachelorette tricks during the opening cocktail party. This time no pushup contests, no biting beer cans in half, no one sang or played a musical instrument, and no panties thrust into Jason's pocket. The weirdness got limited to the innuendo-filled “Let's see what Jason puts on his wiener” with Jillian, a civics test that I'm not sure Deanna would have passed, and one slightly drunk wedding planner, Jackie, admitting something about a former fiance and that she'd tried out twice to be a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader and never made it (I'm not sure which was more embarrassing).

The drama seemed to come from more natural situations like Racquel, the Brazilian med student, getting Jason to samba,having Molly cut in on her, then fighting back by cutting back in on Molly. The Bachelor has had more than its share of bad rhymed poetry and Kari's was right down there, but this time Nicole got to comment about how awkward and impliedly stupid it is to sitting on the same couch in the midst of a poetry slam er....crush. Perhaps the best moment of unforced drama came when Lauren, the birthday girl, was led to believe that Jason was about to give her the first rose. Instead, he shows up with a cake (how many birthdays have they happened to have during those cocktail parties?), eventually leaves, and the camera cuts to the uneaten cake and Lauren's look of disappointment.

After 11 installments of the Bachelor, I've given up on worrying about any of the ladies who don't get roses after show one I did notice that of the ladies who did get roses, it may have had less to do with who offered proof of being great “mom” material than with who happened to look good in the bathing suits in the previews (great "mam" material). Funny thing about that... The previews seem to promise lots of drama in the house and Jason kissing a bunch of different women in addition to an appearance by Deanna that the viewer is led to believe leads to Jason crying on some balcony in agony (it's my hope that that's because he threw her off the thing moments earlier).

I had said that I might not recap this season. My wife tells me that Bachelor season is one of the times when I really seem to be having fun (talk about the truth being really scary!) I did have fun with this mostly brunette installment of the show. So far, Jason Mesnick is staying pretty likeable. Right now, I wish they'd given him better choices, but I'm willing to be pleasantly surprised. Part of that may be due to a suggestion made in True Beauty (yeah I watched it) where one of the judges suggests to a contestant that she's in need of a Make Under instead of a Make Over. It might be fun to see a few of the women look normal, act normal, and actually just try to get to know the guy. I know that's a strange concept, but I'm mostly rooting for a season where I actually like most of the principals at the end.

chancelucky
Buddy TV Bachelor page
Sirlinksalot Bachelorette