Recount

I urge you to catch up to this TV docu-drama now running on HBO. I saw this depiction of the voting mess in Florida during the 2000 Presidential election and it is wonderfully balanced. As a moderate who pretty much hates both sides of the political aisle, "Recount" does a terrific job of showing all the flaws of both the Democrats and Republicans as they tried to piece together what was a complete and insane breakdown in the voting process.

For a movie that was produced by predominantly left-leaning Hollywood, such an even keel is no easy feat. Kudos to all involved, especially producer Sydney Pollack. He was originally scheduled to direct "Recount," but backed out when he got the news of the cancer that would ultimately kill him last weekend. He still has his name amongst the producing credits and it is a great capper to a terrific career.

"Recount" plays out as intricately as "All The President's Men." Indeed, the very first scene shows you just how screwed up Florida was and probably still is. Never has there been a better argument to cut a state from the Union. You see some old canasta playing biddy, probably on her way to the early bird special at Applebee's, trying to vote. It's one of those push-pen ballots that we have used in LA for years. You see the ballot and you watch this fossil's confusion at which candidate to push for. I'm looking at it and I'm wondering. What the hell is so hard about this, you old broad, you? Plus the Board of Elections usually sends you a diagram and a brochure ahead of time. If these moronic senior citizens spent a few minutes reading those instead of checking the lotto numbers, this whole Florida shitstorm would not even have happened. As far as I'm concerned, once you hit 70 in that state, not only should they confiscate your car keys, but you should also be given regular aptitude tests to make sure you can still perform simple functions. Of course, the whole issue could be easily negated if we simply annexed the whole state to Israel. But, I digress...

"Recount" also surprised me in a way it probably shouldn't. I probably can't be that stunned when you see how much of a political candidate is controlled, steered, and actually puppeted by the machine behind him or her. Every word, action, gesture, and nuance is so carefully rehearsed and planned. It's one more indictment for me of the phony two party system that is choking our country.

But, beyond that angst, "Recount" can still be enjoyed for what it is, because it is truly a very even-handed look at an embarrassing moment in this country's history. If for nothing else, see it for the performance of Laura Dern, who portrays Florida Secretary of State Katherine Harris as if she was Jessica Rabbit. The amazing thing is that the real person is probably not that far off the mark.

Dinner last night: Chinese Chicken Salad at the Cheesecake Factory back in LA.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - June 2, 2008

For those of you who might happen to know a June bride...that's also a complete moron.

Dinner last night: Leftover Sausage and Peppers, cleaning out the refrigerator as I plan to fly back to LA.

My Top 25 Favorite TV Shows - #18!

Arguably, "Bonanza" did more to sell new color television sets than any appliance store salesperson could hope to do. When this show, with its lush filming of the Lake Tahoe area, was the only program broadcast in color, folks clamored to buy one so they too could be enveloped by the splendor of the scenary.

You count my parents in that group. You cannot count my grandmother among those sales.

Actually, my parents took their own sweet time moving out of the black and white TV world. There was one token color television in our family. My aunt had one and we all descended on her living room if ever there was a "must see in color" program. The only problem with her set, which might have been one of the first off the assembly line, is that the colors were never coordinated properly. Grass was blue. Tree trunks were red. Faces were green.

Once my parents were content that the technology had all the bugs worked out, they were buyers. And so, on one March Saturday afternoon, this super clunky Zenith console got delivered to our home. And then, for the rest of the weekend, we watched everything and anything just to see what it looked like in color. And, unlike my aunt's set, people actually had flesh tones that didn't make them look like third degree burn victims. We absorbed it all. But the focus of that weekend was Sunday night at 9PM on NBC. When we finally could watch an episode of "Bonanza" on our very own color TV.

"Bonanza" was one of the few TV shows that got two floor viewing in my house. My grandmother was watching downstairs and we were tuned in upstairs. I would act as Kissinger. One week, I would watch it with my grandmother and then the next week with my parents. It was a tradition I held to for many years. But, with the purchase of that huge Zenith, I would be multi-conflicted. Black and white vs. color. A major dilemma.

My mother, in a rare display of multi-generational family unity, had a solution. Grandma could come up and watch "Bonanza" in color with us. So, on that first "colorful" Sunday, my grandmother mounted the three flights of stairs to our living room. She sat down and wasn't there more than five minutes into the program.

"This doesn't look right."

She gave a cursory wave at the dastardly television set and went back downstairs. And never returned on a Sunday at 9PM ever again. To the day she died, she was one of the few stalwarts in America who would not cave in to that crazy fad of color TVs.

So, I spent many a Sunday watching "Bonanza" in black and white. Nevertheless, it didn't diminish my love of this classic western. As I got older, the tradition held, but I came to appreciate that the better episodes were written and directed by co-star Michael Landon, who clearly was a gifted creative force. As soon as Dan "Hoss" Blocker died, the show pretty much lost its cohesiveness. But, given that, it still had an amazing run with close to 500 episodes.

Most folks remember the theme song to this day with the Cartwrights riding up across the meadow to a conveniently placed Eastman color camera. But, oddly enough, I much preferred the different opening and theme that they used for several of the final seasons. Most people don't remember this, but I do.

I'm not sure which version of the opening my grandmother liked better. She probably didn't care.

As long as it was in black and white.

Dinner last night: My absolute favorite Sausage and Peppers at Carlo's in Yonkers.

The Senior Prom at Scatman Crothers High

I wrote previously that I did not have a senior prom. Well, there was one. 20 Black couples went to the Apollo Theater. For a host of reasons, I didn't qualify. But, I wonder if the pictures below would be representative of what I might have seen that night. Props to Mr. Anonymous from the Barbara Judith Deluxe Furnished Apartments on Hollywood Boulevard for pointing these out to me. Of course, we find these photos amusing now. But, what happens next January if we see similar snapshots coming out of the next Presidential Inaugural Ball.

No other words from me are needed.

Dinner last night: Hamburger at the Tap House in Tuckahoe.

NYC Celebrity Sighting: Robert Klein walking slowly and gingerly down Sixth Avenue.

ESPNough!

For me, nothing is more relaxing than a baseball game. In person at either Shea Stadium or Chavez Ravine, I can totally decompress by sitting with my scorebook and watching the day's story unravel before my eyes. Because, indeed, every Major League Baseball game is essentially a short story. Within the space of two to three hours, a plot will unfold. Characters will intertwine. And there will be some conclusion to a very interesting storyline that is perhaps much different than the game/short story from the day before. A baseball game is supposed to be free flowing and easy. No more than the stimulus of a cool breeze on a summer's day.

Except, of course, if you're watching said game on ESPN.

I've written previously about their Sunday night baseball broadcast crew, Jon Miller and Joe Morgan, who are the audio equivalent of a tooth extraction. They take on the mantra from ESPN that their network virtually invented whatever sports they are telecasting on that given day. If ever my teams are featured as the Sunday night game, my mute button is pressed and I might even use the local radio play-by-play as a substitute. Miller and Morgan are just that bad.

But, when I am on the road in NY, I often find myself needing ESPN's weekday baseball coverage in order to keep up with the Dodgers. Such was the case the other night when I felt the urge to watch the Blue Crew list through another non-hitting barrage versus the Chicago Cubs. My hosts for the evening were Chris Berman and former pitcher Rick Sutcliffe. Admittedly, Berman is the worst sport announcer ever to come out of a mother's womb and is better suited to managing a Pizza Hut. Sutcliffe's best days were on the mound and not behind a microphone, where he displays all the excitement of a funeral director taking some widow through a sales brochure of caskets. These two chuckleheads spent the middle three innings of the game essentially talking up Sutcliffe's singing of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the seventh inning stretch. Barbra Streisand's last concert tour didn't get this much build-up. But, I wanted to watch the game, so how bad would it be to endure them?

Freakin' bad. The dribble emanating from Messrs Berman and Sutcliffe was worse than I could have expected. When Dodger reliever Takashi Saito had his problems in the ninth inning, Sutcliffe kept telling us that he hadn't gotten a save in a week, as if his mediocrity was being caused by non-use. Wrong. If Sutcliffe had looked at some game notes, he would have seen that Saito worked two innings on Sunday, striking out five in the process, for a win in extra innings. Of course, Berman was too busy thinking of his next unclever thing to say. Naturally, he became infatuated with all the obvious gags that can be deduced from Dodger infielder Chin-Lung Hu. Hu is at short now. Hu is hitting. N'yuk, n'yuk. n'yuk. In comparison, I like to think about Dodger sportscaster Vin Scully during Hu's major league debut last Fall. Scully simply said "Hu is now playing second base and we won't say that ever again." And he never did. But, Berman naturally overplayed it so much it was probably like the day he found out how to lift up comic strips with Silly Putty.

But, the really annoying thing about ESPN's baseball coverage these days is the constant onslaught of information. A scrawl at the bottom of the screen. Constant and ever-updating stats at the top of the screen. By the end of the night, I was exhausted and had a headache that would probably rival Teddy Kennedy's. All of it rendered me senseless.

Over and over, I read about Pedro Martinez' rehab appearance in Class A ball. Somebody on the Braves went on the disabled list. Scores were updated from out-of-town on a pitch-by-pitch basis. I was expected to read that the Yankees' Alex Rodriguez had sex with his wife Tuesday night and "it was terrific."

At the top of the screen, the brain drain continued. You saw what the batter's average was with a 0-1 count. Then a 0-2 count. Then a 1-2 count. Then a 2-2 count. On and on and on and on and on. If arsenic had been handy, I would have emptied the bottle.

ESPN takes a very simple and relaxing sport and turns it into another version of the Iraq War. In the process, I can't believe that there are very many folks in the audience who give a shit what how many homeruns Manny Ramirez has hit while wearing blue boxer shorts.

Just give me the basics. Better yet, just give me nothing and I will construct my own fun.

But, I guess that would be too easy for our already overloaded society.

Dinner last night: Snacks at a wine tasting event in Fort Tryon Park.

The Return of Scar Tissue

The best part of doing a daily blog is that there are moments in life that repeat themselves. And the more likely repetitive moments are those that revolve around chronic body issues.

Such was the case on Memorial Day weekend, which was made more memorable for me due to a recurring back problem being egged on by some nasty scar tissue. And it dawned on me that I had posted on this once before. Actually, it was the second entry I ever made in this blog. So, like a trusty episode of "I Love Lucy," here it is all over again. Just know that the pain this time was just the same.

Every once in a while, there are medical conditions that become the hot diagnoses. Do you all remember about fifteen to eighteen years ago when anybody who was feeling tired or stressed was diagnosed as suffering from Epstein Barre syndrome? Okay, now tell me how often you have heard about that disease since then? Does no one get this anymore? Was there a vaccine that I never heard about? During my last physical, my doctor gave precautionary shots for tetanus and whooping cough. Is he incompetent? Did he forget to give me the Epstein Barre inoculation? I think not.

And, then, back in the 90's, any kid from the ages of 5 to 12 who acted up was diagnosed as ADD. "My son just shot the DHL guy. I guess he's ADD." "My daughter won't eat broccoli. Yep, ADD." Now, I do realize that this is a legitimate condition. As a matter of fact, I know there are quite a few people in my business world who are in their 40s and clearly were never diagnosed with ADD, primarily because it was not the hot condition at the time. But I digress...

Over the past month, I have heard about five or six people tell me that the cause of the pain somewhere in their body is due to scar tissue. This concept is used whether they have had surgery or not. My thought is that there is somebody who works in marketing for the Mayo Clinic who comes up with this stuff.

So, I go to my chiropractor this week for this nagging muscle pain around my lower abdomen. It is partly attributed to the fact that I sit writing on a computer almost seven hours a day. (And, of course, this blogging exercise is now an added factor). But, as she is working on my deep tissue massage, she notes, "Hmm, you have a scar there. I am betting this is a scar tissue issue." I think about it for a second and realize that, yes, I did surgery six years ago in that precise region. (This was the operation where I donated some sporting good equipment to St. John's Hospital.)

I never had Epstein Barre. I am not ADD. But, I am now a full fledged card carrying member of the Scar Tissue brigade. And I am crouched over in pain proudly.

Dinner last night: Grilled Chicken Teriyaki as I settle into NYC.

Indiana Jones and the Curse of the Wednesdays

Even Indy can't help you here.

---Amazing news! To all those kooks who lined up for hours overnight to see the latest Indiana Jones adventure over the Memorial Day weekend: I checked the papers this morning and the movie is still playing!

---And it will probably still be playing in a couple of weeks as well.

---And it will still be around in a few weekends when I finally get around to it. Without some slob sitting behind me and gabbing on their cell phone. Or texting plot points to some other lemming at home.

---The Arclight Cinemas in Hollywood were actually showing the movie every hour on the hour. You can't even get a city bus that frequently in Los Angeles.

---This week, there will probably be a similar frenzy for "Sex and the City."

---And as much as I liked the show, it will be nothing more than 4 episodes strung together.

---The media hype for that thing is insane. I can't believe that Entertainment Weekly turned over an entire issue to a comprehensive guide for the show and the movie.

---Except my surprise was shortlived when I remembered that HBO is producing the movie. Which is owned by Time Warner.

---Which publishes Entertainment Weekly.

---That's what I call two degrees of exploitation.

---I was propelled to TiVo Oprah last week when she staged a cast reunion of one of my favorite TV shows, "The Mary Tyler Moore Show."

---It was just love that was all around. So was Oprah. Very, very, very round.

---The host looked awful and will probably be pushing some new fad diet very soon.

---Doesn't anybody realize that a person who yo yos that much in the weight department must be a psychological mess?

---Oprah was sporting major HAS. High Ass Strut.

---She looked like somebody asking you to read the third line from the bottom at the DMV.

---So, the Catholic archodiocese in Los Angeles is hitting on its parishes to pay that 700 million dollar legal bill as a result of all that "extra guidance" some priests were giving altar boys.

---That sucques for the average churchgoers who think they're dropping some dollar bills into the offering basket for the good of the church and the surrounding community.

---Little do they know that they are paying to feed a starving attorney in Bel Air.

---And if Hillary had thought about it, here's what she should have said about what happened with the Democratic nomination in 1968.

---"Let's not forget that Hubert Humphrey didn't get the nomination till the convention in August."

---By mentioning Robert Kennedy's assassination, she pretty much blew her chance to be on Obama's ticket.

---As cold and calculating and shrewd as Hillary is, even I know she wouldn't have been that stupid to think of that statement in advance.

---It gave Obama's people to bring up one more time the one thing they always swear they don't bring up. Racism.

---Of course, they think it's totally cool when that big yap, Michelle Obama, goes on 60 Minutes and tells America that, as a Black man, Barack could be easily shot at a gas station.

---I got an easy solution for that. Don't buy your gas in shitty neighborhoods.

---On third thought, I am guessing that Obama hasn't seen the business end of a gas pump in about 10 years.

---"Hey, I'm on a quarter of a tank. Somebody go fill me up."

---By the way, brain-tumored Ted Kennedy was piloting a sailboat over the weekend. With his condition and past driving record, would you want to be a passenger on that thing?

---Watching Willie Randolph uncomfortably sit alongside Met GM Omar Minaya during a press conference that pretty much announced that Willie still hasn't been fired, he looked to me very much like Elliot Spitzer's wife. (Thanks to the Bibster for that nifty comparison)

---Or Fredo Corleone on his way to the rowboat.

---The Dodgers' Andrew Jones is having surgery on his knee and will be out from four to five weeks. I needed a rest anyway.

---His daily physical therapy will be conducted at Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles.

---The supreme class act, Mike Piazza, announced his retirement from baseball.

---Which means that, if Fathead Roger Clemens finally does the same this summer, those two could potentially enter the Baseball Hall of Fame together five years from now.

---I think they will need to have the two plaques separated.

---Mike can be enshrined in Cooperstown. Roger can be hung up in Sing Sing.

---I am guessing that Clemens doesn't get in on the first ballot.

---Or the 17th ballot.

---Or ever.

---Watching the Dodgers play the Cardinals over the weekend, I got the opportunity to be re-acquainted with the most overrated manager in baseball, Tony LaRussa.

---Scoring a game he manages makes my scorebook look like Stevie Wonder was doing the play-by-play. Scumbucket Tony makes so many double switches I'm shocked the players can even figure out when they're batting.

---And, of course, the reputed genius LaRussa is so super clever because he bats the pitcher eighth instead of ninth. Like that makes a difference.

Dinner last night: Sausage and peppers at Earth, Wind, and Flour.

---See how stupid that looks.

And tomorrow, all this cheap sarcasm comes to you from NYC.