This Is It?

Yes, it is. Like it or not.

Surprise. I liked it.

Granted this is not the Michael Jackson documentary I really wanted to see. In my humble opinion, the really entertaining story would have been a hidden camera look at the rest of his family on the days following his death, er, murder. The dirtbag dad looking for easy money. The old lady clinging to her baby and his (?) children. All the brothers and sisters fighting over who got to sit where in the limousines headed to the funeral. It would have been the comedy of the year.

But, "This Is It," comprised of lots of rehearsal footage for the farewell shows Michael would never do, managed to entertain me nonetheless. Granted, I am neglecting to remember quite a bit as I absorb MJ for one last time. Pedophilia. Insanity. Drug addiction. The guy is being inappropriately canonized, but, then again, it's not the first time some undeserving asshole has been embraced by the public. But, we're not talking politics here today.

I cannot deny one thing. Michael Jackson was musically gifted.

This film was produced by the Michael Jackson Estate, so it naturally paints him in the most positive light possible. Whitewashed. But, then again so was Michael, so it's all following the designated plotline. But, as you watch the alleged King of Pop working with the producers, the crew, the singers, and the dancers, you can't help but see somebody who is truly devoted to his craft. And assumes very much a team player mentality as they work hard on the musical production numbers no one would ever see in person.

If you're looking for moments of diva-ism, they are not there. Although clearly crafted from a loving point of view, the candid camera does not lie. At least, with these folks on this bare Staples Center stage, Michael was a good guy. When there is a screw-up in a number or with a lyric, Michael doesn't explode. He keeps saying over and over. "That's why we rehearse." There are some genuine moments of kindness and professionalism that I truly did not expect.

This London show was destined to be a humdinger. Most of the background videos had already been shot. Michael cavorting with Rita Hayworth from "Gilda" or Humphrey Bogart in old film clips. A 3-D version of "Thriller" with the wonderful Vincent Price back from the dead one more time. "Beat It" performed with Michael scarily aloft on a cherry picker.

Still, it's the simpler moments that I really enjoyed. A sweet duet with one of the girl background singers. Working on choreography with some of the male dance team who would be propelled from holes in the stage like your morning raisin toast. The ultra-respectful words of advice he gives some of the musicians. For one song, Michael tells the music director that he wants an intro to sound like "somebody getting out of bed in the morning."

That jarred me back. There was one last morning where Michael himself didn't get out of bed. And, at the end of that day and his days, it was really all his own doing. But, at least, with this movie, you can put all that aside. And do the only thing he wanted you to do. Listen to the music.

A word of advice on seeing "This Is It:" Choose a theater in a decent neighborhood. I saw it in Westwood. The audience was quiet, appreciative, and applauded nicely at the end. But, I have heard tales of some screenings in, well, some less than nice areas. The audience screams constantly. Talking to the screen. People coming in costume, complete with sequined gloves. And sobbing throughout.

You get the gist, right?

Dinner last night: Grilled ham and cheese panini from Clementine's.

And tomorrow: Deep from the heart of Dallas, Texas. With a very different Wednesday rant.

Monday Morning Video Laugh - November 2, 2009

A delicious Halloween leftover.


How To Find A Masculine Halloween Costume For Your Effeminate Son

Dinner last night: Beef stroganoff.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - The Top Ten Baseball Games I've Been To

That's me on the Dodger Stadium mound at their Christmas party last December. As the World Series and baseball winds down for another season, so, too, do my nerves. A great sedative for the annual transition will be this fun little entry. A few years back, a friend asked me to rank the top ten baseball games I've actually attended. I managed to do it, but, now with a few Dodger moments under my belt, I needed to revise it. The following is based on several criteria. Importance of the game. The level of excitement. And how much fun I had. Naturally, the list is heavy with days from my life in Metland. But Dodgertown is starting to creep in. Enjoy.
10. July 24, 1984: Mets 9, Cards 8. A rather ordinary weeknight baseball game from a season where the Mets were actually starting to get good again. But, I remember it was loaded with strategy and lots of key game-turning situations over 12 innings. Plus I was there with the Bibster and that elevated the evening automatically. We had the best seats in Shea. Loge Level, Section 1 or 3, right behind home plate. "Watch the fake."
9. September 7, 1984: Mets 10, Cubs 0. The Mets are actually mounting what would be an unsuccessful pennant run against the shitheads from Wrigley. Dwight Gooden, who would be my mother's favorite Met, one-hits the Cubs. The only hit is a questionable ground ball muffed by Ray Knight. I was there with my high school best friend, Danny. Around the fourth inning, there was a commotion in our section. People started to swarm around somebody. A major star? Tom Seaver? The Mayor? Madonna? Nope, it was former New York local sportscaster Jerry Azar. Who, you say? Exactly, I say. The Day of the Locusts had finally arrived at Shea Stadium.
8. October 8, 1973: Mets 9, Reds 2. Game Three of the Championship Series at Shea. Bud Harrelson slides into Pete Rose and the Golden Gloves main event starts. Fans grow so irate that projectiles are hurled onto the field. Willie Mays, Rusty Staub, and Tom Seaver must act as peacemakers to the goofballs sitting in left field. I couldn't get that involved with the mayhem. I was there with my dad. You know how that goes.
7. October 6, 1969: Mets 7, Braves 4. My young fandom was finally vindicated. Behind the almost-as-young Nolan Ryan's solid relief effort, the Mets win their first ever National League pennant on their way to the World Series. This was the second year of my Saturday ticket plan and they gave me playoff tickets way up in the top deck behind home plate. We were high enough to talk to some dead relatives. The fans went crazy and stormed the field. I couldn't get that involved with the mayhem. I was there with my dad. Once again, you know how that goes.
6. July 22, 2009: Dodgers 6, Reds 2. Take heart, Dodger fans, the Blue Crew makes the list. Manny Ramirez Bobblehead Night. He pinchhits and knocks the first pitch out for a grand slam. A nightful of excitement jammed into about ninety seconds. The Loge Level bobbled all on its own.
5. July 10, 1999: Mets 9, Yankees 8. Beating the Bronx Bombers is always a plus. Doing it in come-from-behind style against one of the greatest relievers in history is even better. Mike Piazza hits a three-run homer in the seventh to tie the score. Matt Franco wins it with a pinch single off Mariano Rivera in the bottom of the ninth. Spatulas were needed to scrape Met fans off the wall.
4. October 8, 2009: Dodgers 3, Cards 2. This date makes its second appearance on this list. Game 2 of the 2009 Division Series between the Dodgers and Cardinals. Outfielder Matt Holliday muffs the final out and the Dodgers raise like Lazarus. Casey Blake's amazing base on balls was like a hitting or non-hitting clinic. Mark Loretta's pinch single sends us all home. My greatest moment to date in my season seats at Dodger Stadium. The entire stadium moved up and down. Did anybody check the Richter scales that afternoon? I got to enjoy this wonderful game with my childhood best friend, Leo, who had been the first person to ever sit in my Saturday seats at Shea. A terrific baseball bookend.
3. October 11, 1986: Mets 6, Astros 5. On perhaps the coldest day I ever spent at Shea Stadium, Lenny Dykstra hits one that hugs the foul pole in the bottom of the ninth of Game Three of 1986 Championship Series. A game that was full of marvelous strategic moments. We were skyhigh in the upper deck. I swear there was snow all around. The victory ultimately warmed us all.
2. October 27, 1986: Mets 8, Red Sox 5. I had finally arrived. I was witness in-person to a World Series win and celebration. Game 7. As Jesse Orosco was closing out the ninth inning, we all stood arm-in-arm. My best friend Danny and I had our arms around each other's shoulders. We knew that such a moment in our lives would be rare. How often do you get this lucky as a baseball fan? I'm waiting to see another one. I'm waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Okay, Dodgers and Mets, my clock is ticking.
1. October 25, 1986: Mets 6, Red Sox 5. The game for the ages. It will never be topped in my life. The comeback win to beat all other comeback wins. The body should not be allowed to tolerate such an emotional pendulum swing in the space of about ten minutes. Gut wrenching defeat. Heaven-reaching exhileration. And I was there! "A little roller up along first behind the bag it gets through Buckner here comes Knight and the Mets win it!" Or so said NBC announcer Vin Scully. I've come to love him even more now.








Dinner last night: Grilled steak salad.

Classic Movie Trailer of the Month - October 2009

My mother's favorite Disney cartoon.

Dinner last night: Salisbury steak at the Cheesecake Factory.

Your Weekend Movie Guide - October 2009

"It's Jerry's funniest yet!"

Talk about your idle threats. But, at least, the RKO Proctors Theater in New Rochelle was "healthfully air conditioned."

We don't get double features like this anymore. At a grand movie palace. But, lucky for us, there is still a movie down at your local and antiseptic multiplex, which is featuring more horseshit than you would find at the Aqueduct stables. Here's my monthly assistance to you. If there's a flick in your future this weekend, let me steer you in the right direction. I'll flip through the LA Times movie guide and tell you what I think is worth your time. Or, in most cases, what would be a complete waste of your time. Frankly, even a Jerry Lewis movie is better than most of this crap.

Amelia: This looks dreary. A biography of Amelia Earhart. How exciting can that be? It's not like they can include a surprise twist ending.

Where The Wild Things Are: The House of Representatives?

Law Abiding Citizen: Three scary words. "Jamie Foxx Drama." America's amazing fascination with mediocre talents continues.

The Fall: The ad says "a sex, drugs, murder, lying, conniving, creepy thrill ride." Sounds like the upcoming Frank and Jamie McCourt divorce trial.

Paranormal Activity: I heard this is terrible. Things that go bump in the night. Trust me, it's not always a ghost. Have you checked out your kitchen garbage disposal lately?

Coco Before Chanel: Wake me when it's over. The real title should be "Cocoa Before Bedtime."

New York, I Love You: I saw this and it's just okay. Fifteen different little vignettes about life in the Big Apple. But, except for five minutes in Brooklyn, all the action takes place within a ten square block radius in midtown Manhattan. Hello, everybody? The Bronx? Queens? Staten Island, perish the thought? Call me when the other boroughs get equal storylines.

An Education: I saw this, too, and sort of liked it. Except it's a little creepy. Some thirty-something guy starts dating a girl in high school. Afterwards, I thought about all the implausibilities. Until, of course, I read about ESPN's Steve Phillips.

Couples Retreat: It's another Vince Vaughn laugh riot. Audiences should retreat as well.

This Is It: The Michael Jackson "Really Farewell" tour. I must sheepishly admit to a small desire to see this movie. Like one of those "Faces of Death" videos. When some doofus puts a firecracker with a very long fuse up a cat's ass.

The House of the Devil: The White House?

Skin: The true story of a woman born Black to White parents. The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet. With their children David, Ricky, and Kwaneesha.

The Boondock Saints II: There was a Boondock Saints I? Anybody?

Gentlemen Broncos: A teenager's first written story is stolen by a famous novelist. But it really sounds like a West Hollywood production of "Rawhide."

Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs: Hey, God, I ordered sausage!

Cirque Du Freak, The Vampire's Assistant: So the vampire still has an assistant? It's good to know that downsizing has yet to come to Transylvania.

Zombieland: The Senate?

The Stepfather: Step parents are always depicted as evil. Is there not an advocate for this much-maligned member of society?

Astro Boy: What would happen if Octomom had sex with the Jetsons' dog.

Good Hair: My, my, you have a short memory span. I reviewed this yesterday. Thumbs up...Len.

Anti-Christ: Nancy Pelosi?

Saw VI: Four more and we can open up a Home Depot.

A Serious Man: The Cohn Brothers' latest dark comedy. All about Jews living in Minnesota during the 60s. The Wonder Years Goes To Temple. I found it captivating but the ending was almost as jarring and offputting as the finale of the Sopranos. It's almost as if the theater forgot to run the last reel.

Whip It: I also saw this. Juno Goes to the Roller Derby. I was quite surprised how bored I got. Surprisingly, you do get tired of watching women beat the shit out of each other for ninety minutes. Who knew??

Capitalism, A Love Story: If you absolutely must see this mess, go to the bargain matinee so you can really fuck with Michael Moore's profit center.

Dinner last night: Honey chipotle chicken tenders at Chili's.

Good Hair

I've always thought Chris Rock was pretty clever. Also incredibly balanced in his humor. And I was a fan, albeit one of the few, of the sitcom he created and produced "Everybody Hates Chris."

But, now Chris is a documentary filmmaker. And if his future attempts are anything like his first movie, "Good Hair," I hope he never does anything else. This flick hits all the documentary requirements for me. It teaches me about something I never knew. It makes me leave the theater with both questions and answers. And it's damn entertaining.

The logline is pretty straight forward. Chris gets asked a simple question by his young daughter. "Why don't I have good hair?" As it turns out, this is a query that's been perplexing Black women throughout the ages. Because, as much as they want their own individuality via holidays like Kwanza and Martin Luther King Day, Black ladies desperately want to have the same type of hair as White folks. And this provides the springboard for a very illuminating ninety minutes. The secondary title for the movie could actually be "Straight Hair And How Do I Get It?"

Chris Rock is a perfect tour guide for this journey. He centers the movie around an annual convention in Atlanta that is devoted to Black hair styling. Who knew there was such a thing? And, at the end of the event, there is a thoroughly mesmerizing competition where four styling finalists must cut the hair of three people in the most creative and musical way. You meet the four contestants. One is actually this gay hillbilly of a White kid who looks like the Dodgers' Clayton Kershaw. He used slutty models as his backdrop for cutting hair. One chick cut hair while suspended from a door jamb. Another competed while under water. And the ultimate winner employed a marching band as his musical accompaniment. It was bizarre as it sounds on paper.

But, in between all the stories about the contestants, Rock takes us through, via interviews with actresses, models, and even Reverend Al Sharpton, the extremes used by Black people to get their hair "white."

First, there's the ever popular relaxor. Creamy crack, as actress Nia Long calls it. This is applied to heads almost as soon as they are four years old. It straightens out the nappiness. It makes hair as straight as an arrow. And, apparently, it can destroy your scalp in the process. Chris has a renowned chemist analyze this deadly pomade. One drop on a raw chicken breast burns a hole in the poultry. A soda can submerged in a liquid variation of the relaxor disintegrates in the space of three hours. Yet, this is daily slopped onto heads in Black hair salons from Harlem to Crenshaw.

And then there's the ever mysterious hair weave. Beautiful straight locks that are virtually sewn into heads. Most deny they have hair weaves. Tons of Black women do. And, ironically, the hair weave of choice is made from the hearty folicles of folks in India. Yep, Rock travels to the land of monsoons and telephone operators to watch Indians sacrifice their hair in the name of religion and biggo buckeroos.

The laughable thing about all this is the fact that the biggest importers of Indian hair into the United States are the Chinese. And they are selling it for a premium. Everybody is getting their finger into this money pie. And this explains why hair weaves will cost a Black women upwards of several thousand dollars. Chris interviews a few and questions their willingness to cough up this kind of expense on their hair. Whether it's a high class fashion model or a third class teacher, it's a no-brainer. It's worth the money. And you wonder where your stimulus tax dollars are really going?

Black men don't get untouched by this frenzy. Many lament that they're the ones supplementing their ladies' hair addictions. And they don't like it one bit. Especially if the wife or girlfriend has a weave. Because, then, they're not allowed to touch the hairdo. Even during the heat of passion. This is driving them crazy. Chris goes into a Harlem barber shop for this debate and it's perhaps one of the funniest unscripted scenes I have even seen on film. One guy announces that this is the main reason why he perfers to date White chicks. "They let you touch their hair when they're giving you some."

The movie stuck with me. It reminded me of some Black women I used to work with. One always seemed to be vacillating between some crazy hair styles. One morning, she showed up with hair that reminded me of Abe Lincoln's stovetop hat. Two weeks later, her hair was shaped like a crown and it resembled a candy dish in Grandma's house. We spent one day throwing gum wrappers onto her head.

Another lady's hair was so carefully done each day that she was constantly afraid of it getting messed up. If you literally walked within five feet of her, you'd get the warning. "Watch my hair." I now realize that this was probably one of those secret hair weaves.

I also thought a bit about our own First Lady, as odd as that it would seem for me to do. I had just seen an old school photo of her. Now, I want to know, Michelle. Is it a weave or is it the creamy crack? You can leave your answer in the comments section, please.

What do you think?

Dinner last night: Turkey burger at BJ's.

A Wednesday to Dismember

And you can start by taking apart this overgrown sofa with arms and legs.

---As you may have read, I am all about having the Phillies pulverized in the World Series. Pounded so much that they will lay nicely across one of those gooey cheesesteak sandwiches.

---This mascot regularly blows up opposing team artifacts on the field. Quite the role model for children.

---The Phanatic is bloated, ugly, and stupid. A perfect match for the city.

---Let's face it, Philadelphia hasn't had an original moment since Eartha Kitt was Mike Douglas' co-host for the week.

---Okay, I'm done.

---Well, not quite.

---How laughable is it that the St. Louis Cardinals hired Mark McGwire as their new hitting coach?

---He'll be the only coach in major league baseball with a prescription pad.

---And a Gold Card at GNC.

---"Gee, Mr. McGwire, how do I straighten out my swing?"

---"This should help. Just make sure you take it on a full stomach."

---This big lummox was a fraud. And a ten year gap shouldn't make people forget that.

---And, so, tell me now why Pete Rose can't find work?

---I was all set to settle in for a Yankee seventh inning stretch. When that goofy Irish bartender would sing "God Bless America." And I had enough time to pee, wash my hands, make a sandwich, throw some laundry in the dryer, and read two chapters of "Crime and Punishment."

---Alas, I am told this clown has been there the whole year. After getting caught for some gross anti-semitic remarks.

---He could still sing.

---"Das Lied Der Deutsche."

---Heck, the Steinbrenners would like it.

---By the way, Papa George will be making his appearance at the World Series. And what's the over/under on which jacket lapel is the first to get the drool?

---Okay, I'm done.

---Well, not quite.

---Last Saturday night, I drove past the Hollywood Bowl where Grandpa Barry Manilow was giving a concert. And I got to watch some of his fans marching up the hill.

---Sixty-five-year-old women dressed like they were 25. And it reminded me of a very basic supermarket policy.

---Ten pounds of potatoes do not fit into a five pound bag.

---The spikey heels on some of these fressers reminded me of the nursery rhyme.

---Humpty Dumpty had a great fall...

---Ladies, please introduce your wardrobe to your real age.

---Burning question of the day: When does Obama send in the troops to invade Fox News?

---If POTUS is not careful, he's going to lose his chance for a Fox series.

---"So You Think You Can Govern."

---Speaking of which, it's another TV season and I still can't get into either "Mad Men" or "30 Rock."

---But I do recommend the new Patricia Heaton sitcom "The Middle." The kids steal the show, especially the little urchin who plays Brick. Wonderfully done so far.

I'm actually being nice. I guess I am done now. Quite.

Dinner last night: Cervelat sandwich and side salad.