Baby Boomster
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
 
FRACTURED FAIRY TALE ...

(Per 6/24/04) Mary Kate O -- Evidently food isn't your drug of choice. (what is?)

GOOD TV

Caught the preview of a new CBS Fall show: Navy NCIS starring Mark Harmon. Although I never cared for military programs such as JAG (or hospital programs such as ER), I was very impressed with the two back-to-back episodes last night of Navy NCIS, and believe CBS may have snagged a potential audience by premiering this show on a night with very little competition in its path. (Good move in planning on someone's part - give that 'suit' a raise!)

The plots are well constructed with interesting trivial facts thrown in (such as: 9% of the world's population is left-handed and this statistic hasn't changed since the stone age (based on studies of cave paintings, except for a certain tribe, -- ah, nevermind, if you didn't see the show, you missed this fascinating piece of non-essential knowledge, so you'll just have to watch the show when it airs again.)

The personalities of its team members make this more than just a crime investigation show, especially with the addition of Abby, a 'Goth' forensics scientist who is smart, sassy and adds a glam sparkle to the cast. Of course, there's the token brillant, but a bit-daft-Brit pathologist, Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard,(David McCallum) Although this is supposed to be a tense, dramatic show - how punny can you get -- Dr. Donald Mallard, really!, but Mr. Former Man From U.N.C.L.E. McCallum somehow refreshes this tired stereotyped character and makes Dr. Mallard just ducky.

Looks like a winner to me, and I know I'll be tuning in on Tuesdays when the new Fall lineup gets in full swing. Check it out: Link

Tuesday, June 29, 2004
 
IT'S A 'MAD WORLD'

All I can say about Fahrenheit 9/11 is that the messenger's ego seems to have overshadowed his message. Michael Moore's documentary is in essence a docu-drama. It is interesting how the politically far-left as well as the far-right extremists can't make their cases in point by using clear and well-documented facts. Instead they must spin webs of half-truths or use creative editing in presenting their viewpoints as gospel. Their opposing perceptions of reality are neither solid nor unequivocally honest, but slanted to reflect their polar positions.

In this time and circumstance we must unite to defeat the maniacs who are fanatically trying to destroy our freedoms, our way of life, our nation. They kill without conscience or remorse. Need we be reminded that we are at war with terrorists, not each other.

...I find it hard to tell you
'Cos I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad World
-- Tears for Fears

Friday, June 25, 2004
 
STOP SMOKING - ADD YEARS TO YOUR LIFE

I smoked cigarettes for a long time; quit many times and went back many times. However, thanks to Zyban I was able to finally cease and desist in my early 50's. This is a very difficult thing to do. I know first hand how hard it is, but quitting can add years back to a smokers life as found in this recent British study.

I figure I got back about 5 years of my life, and at this stage of the game, I hope to make the most of them.

Anyone under 35 should seriously consider making the effort to stop smoking, since they then will have the normal life expectancy of a non-smoker.

GOOD LUCK!




Thursday, June 24, 2004
 
SHORT TAKES ...


MARY KATE O -- evidently food isn't your drug of choice. (what is?)

ETHEL, um I mean, ESTHER, or: -- Kabbalah, Kabbalah bo balah, Bonana, Fanna, Fo fabbalah -- Fee, Fy, Mo Manalah - Madonna!


MICHAEL M -- don't have to ask you what your drug of choice is. (next Moore docudrama: "ATKINS AND ME")

PARIS H -- Fill in the blank: you could be another Lincoln -- (if you only had a ______!)

THE DONALD -- hair here, hair there, no stylist anywhere! (Words for Mr. Trump to Hair Club for Men: 'You're hired!')

JAY LO -- can't carry a torch for long or for less than $36,000 --
(got that Mr. Anthony).

BEN A -- lucky at cards - unlucky at love. You got the better of the deal. (as per above).

BEN S -- dodgeball - you call that a game?? -- You want a real kickass game: Mr. Kish's kickball is a real game for winners. (inside joke).
P.S. You're only as good as the box office on your last couple movie(s)and this movie saved your Hollywood tush. Two things in your favor -- the competition on release week and employing the Mrs. to double future unemployment checks if needed.

BABS S -- Mrs. Focker -- how very descriptive!

DICK C -- F U too! (By the way -- appropriate first name!)

DONNIE DARKO - (Sequel: ZOMBIE LOVE STORY - Donnie Darko meets the Wicked Witch of the East; and they 'fall' for each other.)

Don't need a plane engine or house to fall on me to know it's time to go -- with one last thought ...

LONG TAKES ...

Colin Farrell - 'A Home at the End of the World' -- Waiting for the DVD release (uncut version, natch!)


Wednesday, June 23, 2004
 
DUSK AND FIREFLIES

Last night at dusk I happened to look out to the front door as dozens of fireflies twinkled over the lawn as they tend to do at this time of year. But for a moment in my minds eye, there were two fanciful children prancing about trying to capture the illusive, intermittent pulsing lights.

The barefooted little girl, twirling and turning in her nightgown round and round, her long, soft hair dancing in the mist of the evening air. She is the essence of childhood's lost games in her light-hearted innocence. The young boy pouncing at his prey with the challenge of serious competition. He must master this task and capture the most to place in the jar.

The evening ends as the light fades and the prisoners are released to the darkness of the night to fulfill their destinies.

A decade later the two youths are grown, down life's path to fulfill their own destinies.

I miss them.

Tuesday, June 22, 2004
 
MY LIFE - BILL CLINTON

Dear Mr. Clinton,

Your lies, I mean your life, isn't worth $35.00. I personally wouldn't contribute one copper Lincoln to your coffers to assist in justifying your tainted, sordid and shameful behavior. You can spin all the fairy webs of inaccuracies, excuses, fabrications and use all the charm and wit of a mischievous boy who got his hand caught in the cookie jar, but it's still no go with me. It's incredible to watch the left-wing-celebrity liberals rally around you propagating your deceit. Can that many people be so out of touch with reality that they truly believe your gossamer 'tell-all' tale? Or are they children of the sixties still tripping the light fandango?

Let us remember:

1) Your definition of "is." vs. Webster's definition of "is."
2) "I did not have sexual relations with that woman..."
3) Gennifer Flowers, Paula Jones, Kathleen Willey, (just to name a few).
4) Vince Foster/Webb Hubbell/Whitewater Land Deal
5) The hawking of 'time shares' to the Lincoln Bedroom.
6) Travelgate/Filegate
7) Etc., Etc., Etc.

As we all know, you have trouble inhaling -- as well as keeping your foot out of your mouth, so here's a little piece of advice ... put a cigar in it, and try smoking it for a change.





Sunday, June 20, 2004
 
MY LIFE IS BORING...SO WHAT'S NEW WITH YOU?

Today was a beautiful day. Took my mother out to lunch, and gave a waitress (not my table server) a $10.00 tip - just because she was having a rough time with several tables full of demanding, nasty customers, and she definitely could appreciate having one good and unexpected experience turn her day around. (Of course, I also left a tip to my server). By the way -- My day was horrible, and the only thing that turned it around was that I helped someone else have a better day.


Thursday, June 17, 2004
 
DEPENDS FOUND IN LARRY'S GARBAGE

There may have been a "Depends" found in Larry King's garbage, but I wish it was found in my mother's trash instead! I buy them, but she doesn't wear 'em, and she needs 'em!. Guess who gets to do her laundry!

Also what interesting tidbits can be found in your garbage????


Wednesday, June 16, 2004
 
HAPPENSTANCE

Had a doctor's appointment yesterday. The specialist shares an office and is part of the practice of my referring doctor. Since I had just seen the referring doctor last week, he had me leave my MRI films and X-rays in the office to be reviewed by the specialist for my upcoming appointment.

The day started off bad and went downhill from there. Hit a detour on my way to the appointment, as well as construction with flagmen directing two-way traffic into one lane on another roadway and still managed to get there 15 minutes early as requested to fill out paperwork. I was the only one in the office for a lunchtime appointment at 12:30 p.m.

The office began to fill up because there are about eight doctors with different areas of expertise in the practice, and, although I was first on the sign-up list for mine, people arriving after me were being taking in to the examining rooms. After about 45 minutes, I questioned why I wasn't being called in, and another 20 minutes later, I was finally taken in to see the doctor. After answering 10 minutes of questions by the nurse, she realized that I was taken into the wrong physician's room, because the new-girl-in-training put my folder in the wrong bin.

Thus I was escorted back into the general waiting room for another half hour. Finally called back into an examining room where I waited another 15 minutes for 'my' doctor. When he finally arrived, he asked a few questions and then wanted to see my films. I explained the films should be somewhere in his office, so he left to check and after lots of discussion and scurrying about, he returned and says no one could find then, but let's wait until the original doctor finishes up with a patient to trace their whereabouts, since they were left with him. With that he left the room. Another 20 minutes later both doctors enter the room and my original doctor says he doesn't remember what he did with the films, but believes he sent them back to the radiology file room at the hospital.

Without the films the specialist didn't do anything except take my co-pay and tell me to come back in a month (guess it gives him time to find the missing films). Thus nothing got accomplished, except I was charged for an office visit, spent three wasted hours there and an hour in traveling and detour time back and forth to the office.

Today, I called the hospital radiology department and there was no trace of my films, but I explained the situation and the file room attended contacted the doctors office, and spoke to someone who, evidentially made a concerted effort -- and in a few hours time, found the missing films.

When I received the message that the films were located, I called to thank the people involved, and somehow in our conversation, found out my next appointment had been scheduled with the wrong doctor again. It seems the office staffer not only put my chart in the wrong bin, but also assigned me to the wrong doctor in the computer. Luckily I was able to change the appointment, so in a month I will again try to see the right doctor to get an opinion.

What a rigmarole, topsy-turvy experience. It reminded me of an episode of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" where Larry David visited his doctor's office and had conflicting experiences with the sign-up sheet versus actual appointment time -- and, as with my encounter, it turned into a lose-lose situation. As Mr. David so creatively demonstrates in his story lines -- humor is based on happenstance to which we all can relate.

Monday, June 14, 2004
 
SHORT TAKES ...

Welcome back to: Six Feet Under. This season's premium episode was better than anticipated, especially the program's customary introductory death scenario reminiscent of Edgar Lee Master's Spoon River Anthology. This week, a college student met his death as he plunged off his dorm building under the influence of LSD. ('60 flashbacks anyone??) Each cause of death is unique and unexpected and always lends a recurring thread into the weave of the story line. Also, the fate of Nate's missing wife, Lisa was resolved - as her drowned body washed ashore. It's good to have something worthwhile to fill the Soprano's 9:00 a.m. slot.

Also, Showtime's Penn & Teller: Bullshit has some interesting commentary on such hot topics such as Recycling, P.E.T.A, and the Bible, that makes the opaque, accepted viewpoint transparently fallacious.

I LOVE MY PREMIUM CHANNELS - MOVIES, ORIGINAL PROGRAMMING, AND NO COMMERCIALS - worth every penny!


 
BE FRANK, WHO IS DONNIE DARKO???

Donnie Darko is being shown on one of the premium channels, and for the life of me, I don't know why, but I can't pass up watching it over and over again.

I'm not certain what's so fascinating about this ominous, brooding movie. Perhaps because it's original and intriguing with an exceptionally good cast, or it's murky, surreal plot is a kaleidoscope of everchanging colors and shapes. The bizarre glimpses of insightfulness into the meaning of life and inter-personal relationships give credence to it's countdown of impending doom. Or perhaps I read much more into it than what's there.

The one certainty of the film is its excellent music score, especially the song playing as the end credits roll. Fade out, Donnie Darko.



Thursday, June 10, 2004
 
CICADA UPDATE

As I made my way this morning from the parking lot to my company's entrance with the still lilting Cicada crescendo in the background, I found I needed to step around carcasses of those who have met and fulfilled their destiny.
Ah love is a killer!

Wednesday, June 09, 2004
 
CLASS REUNIONS

My high school is having a reunion this year. It is a milestone anniversary as all reunions are, and I have no interest in going, because:


1) The friend(s) that I want to see I still do.

2) I don't really care about the others, especially their successes, their failures, their children, their grandchildren, etc.,

3) These affairs usually bring out the glory boys -- and rah rah girls.

Glory boys are those who peaked in High School and must relive their glory days, with every game they participated in, with play-by-play narratives, as well as every date they went on, every silly prank they pulled and, in general, still envision themselves with a full heads of hair, tight abs and achieving a mid-to-high level in the ranking pool of 'cool/hip' guys. Mirror, mirror on the wall...
-

Rah Rah girls are those who cheered at varsity level games, were cute, slim, perky, popular, dated the captain and/or major sports players, were homecoming queen or in the homecoming court. Also generally conceited, shallow, self-absorbed, snooty, and at times, even cruel. A few have kept their slim figures, but nearly all were sun worshippers and now their faces look like a roadmap of the LA freeway.

4) Most of these people now are old, fat, bald and boring, and -- I'm not. At least 2 out of 4 -- I'm not!

Tuesday, June 08, 2004
 
OUTSPOKEN...CONTROVERSIAL...HATEFUL...INSENSITIVE...CALLOUS...

"Bush should have died, not Reagan" -- Morrissey.

... JUST PLAIN STUPID!

'Nuff said!





 
MIA FAMIGLIA ...

Growing up in an Italian-American New Jersey urban family was a cultural experience in itself, especially in the days of TV's "Father Knows Best," "Ozzie and Harriet" and the "Donna Reed Show."

Talk about a wonderful sitcom premise -- my extended family had so many characters much too colorful and quirky to possibly be fictional creations or figments of my imagination. My family was nothing like the reflections of those I watched so religiously on TV, but they are my family and I am who I am because -- and in spite of -- their influence.

I thought I'd highlight one of them every once-in-awhile with a short biographical outline from the perspective of my personal relationship and memories.

Today meet ... Uncle 'Photo' Joe

Uncle Joe was my mother's brother. One of 16 children out of 23 pregnancies, Uncle Joe was - to say the least - eccentric. He spoke his mind, was stubborn, argumentative without a lick of common sense or social graces. He was a slight, thin man, vain and self-centered. He also was mentally challenged, actually a bit crazy, formally diagnosed with some mental disorder during WWII, and honorably discharged because of it.

Somehow in his youth, he became an apprentice to a photographer and developed a true talent in photography. He began his own business and, although dabbled in various artistic fields of photography, specialized in weddings and became very well-known as his business prospered. Rich and poor came to him to have their weddings immortalized by the renowned Joseph. Years later, his claim to fame, once removed, was that he took Frank and Nancy Sinatra's wedding photos, when Frank was still a bar room singer struggling in Hoboken before his rise to Bobbysox idol.

Uncle Joe spent his money as fast as in rolled in. For many years this was not a problem since he was rolling in the green. He had his nose fixed, (unusual in those days for anyone who wasn't in theatre or the movie industry). He had a weakness for very pretty woman, and would tip $10.00 for a 5 cent cup of coffee served by an attractive waitress. He hung out at all the popular nightclubs in Manhattan and was quite the dancer. He dated many woman, but the ones he attracted were beautiful, shallow party girls, accepting his lavish gifts and stringing him along until the party was over. As long as the greenbacks bulged in his pockets, there were endless stream of party girls to help decrease his bulging trouser pockets (in more ways than one.) He developed many "friends" whom were just hangers on, since Uncle always picked up checks and treated his chums with gifts and "loans," which were never paid back. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite that generous to his own family, but hey, what the heck. He did take care of his mother, since he was the only one left who remained unmarried, and they shared an apartment together which adjoined the photo studio.

Photo Joe eccentricities became more pronounced as the years passed. He had a fixation on outward appearance. He would candidly tell a handsome groom that his future wife was ugly and he was much too handsome to settle for such a 'mutt,' or vice versa. He hated smoking especially by woman and was known to pull a cigarette out of a mother's hand, stomp it to the ground, and tell her she was as disgusting as her habit and a terrible example for her child. He had several scrapes with the law because of this as well as other incidents. Being slight of build and relatively good looking with his new nose, he was sometimes mistaken for gay and often hit upon by men. He developed such an aversion to homosexuals, that he spouted a litany of the "gay who's who" in the entertainment industry, and would openly expose many personalities to anyone who would listen. Everyone thought he was crazy, but his information was quite accurate, so I knew about Rock Hudson, Tab Hunter, Liberace, Raymond Burr and many others way before they came out of the closet. Of course, no one else actually believed him and chalked it up to just crazy ramblings -I mean --Rock Hudson such a handsome, leading man, dating all the starlets, only a lunatic would spout such absurd tales about such a manly man!

Well, down the road, Joe's business declined due to lots of competition and his less than complimentary comments to his patrons. The hangers on left for greener pastures. He eventually lost everything. He even sold the negatives and rights of Frank's Wedding pictures back to Sinatra, so he lost the credit to his last claim to fame and recognition. All that was left was his camera.

He then put a sign stuck in the band of his fedora "Photo Joe" and began doing freelance work, roaming New York's five boroughs, taking pictures of accidents, celebrities and anything that he could sell to the newspapers for a quick buck. He became well known as a fixture at Times Square, where he could be found arguing with the soap box preachers or taking 'street portraits' of the Ladies of 9th Avenue. A kindly priest, who had some influence at City Hall, managed to secure a press pass for "Photo Joe," so he could continue to scratch out a meager living getting passed the police lines and fire barricades as he followed the sirens of his newly-revamped profession. Photo Joe had many a picture on the front pages of the Daily News and Mirror in his day.

His last years were spent in a boarding house. He often visited our home on Sundays for a good, home-cooked meal, offering stories of his glory days and miscellaneous celebrity gossip tidbits in exchange for our hospitality. He always came with his camera, but never took a photo when he visited. I thought it strange, but now realized he couldn't afford to waste the film or flash bulbs, since he barely made enough to live on from his freelance work. However, he taught me some ballroom dances, since I was the only member of the household that attentively listened to his stories without argument or doubts. (I still can do a mean merengue thanks to Uncle Photo Joe).

Every year he would go for his "vacation" -- by signing himself into the Veteran's hospital, where he would get three square meals a day, a little pampering, and enjoy a week or two resting in the solarium and walking the grounds.

A once-extremely talented and gifted man, Uncle Photo Joe, wandered off into obscurity, after a big and final argument between my family and him. It seems my brother wanted Photo Joe to take his wedding photos, which was an unreasonable and unrealistic request. Having nothing but his old camera, poor eyesight and what was left of his pride, Uncle Joe couldn't deliver, and disappeared until after the wedding. Of course, my brother was able to hire a photographer and had his wedding photos as momentos, but in the process, Uncle Photo Joe had lost the last ounce of his self-esteem and dignity as well as contact with our family.

Thus, I remember my Uncle Photo Joe, who was many things to many people. But in some ways he was a visionary before his time. A zealot against tobacco and liquor, and a devotee of health foods and vitamins. He detested overeating as gluttonous, ate meat sparingly, believed in fasting, and the benefits of drinking lots of water. He was colorful, interesting, talented, a bit pathetic and most importantly -- memorable. Here's to you Uncle Photo Joe.













Monday, June 07, 2004
 
NO ONE IS OUT THERE ...

I blog to a void of nothingness and no one. My thoughts, rants and trite observations are sucked deep into a black hole in hyperspace. And yet I rally in the freedom of the process.




 
ONE GOOD PRIEST ...

An upbeat comment to my criticism of the Pope, his statements and his church. Last night I went to a Silver Anniversary celebration for a good friend and wonderful priest.

There were nearly 200 people in attendance to honor Fr. John, who came into our local parish nearly 20 years ago, and to whom I had the honor of working with. During his term as parish pastor, I learned so much from this truly great minister of God.

Although Father served in four parishes and is now a hospital chaplain, no one from my parish was there to honor him except for my spouse and me. There were so many times he expended himself in this parish, counseling the troubled, introducing new ministries and programs, working with the other local pastors in a bridge of ecumenical friendship, and repairing and maintaining church buildings and property that had been neglected for years. As I sit at the table last night, I couldn't help but feel the absence of my community's parish people whose lives Father had touch in so many ways.

Many stories I could share here about this man, some funny, some poignant, but these experiences are many and fill an entire chapter in my life's book. One of the best lessons he taught me was by his example and his trust in the goodness of man.

We often had people come to the rectory door looking for a handout. Whether substance abusers or just down on their luck, Father never turned anyone away. He always feed them, offered them use of the parish showers, purchased new clothes or shoes, and sometimes put them up for an evening or gave them a few bucks from his own pocket for "their next meal on the road." He only asked that when they got back on their feet, they'd pass on the kindness to someone else less fortunate.

I once questioned him about this practice, asking him how he knew if these people were truly needy or just pulling a scam.

He simply answered me as follows:

"If a man comes to me asking for help under false pretenses, shame on him. But if a man comes to me asking for help and I turn him away, shame on me. We all must answer to our God for our actions, he for his, and I for mine. I am here to minister, not to judge."

Even the governor of New Jersey sent his best wishes with a State proclamation to this humble man. Thank you Father John and God bless you! You have strengthened my faith by your example and by your loving kindness to all. I will never forget your wonderful parish leadership, but most of all -- I and my family will treasure your friendship forever.

Sunday, June 06, 2004
 
A DREAM RENEWED...

Will wonders never cease. My dream of chucking it all and starting anew has not been completed dashed!

My life's partner has admitted the dream is tempting and has not thrown out the baby with the bath water. Although cautious, he doesn't want to continue the mindless road being traveling in our thankless jobs and monotonous lives, but now is considering the alternative of pursuing a last dream.

In fact, this idea would make a very promising TV series or even a wide-open premise for a book -- that is: two married baby boomers reaching the stage of their lives where they must determine their future, looking at the harsh reality of the lives as victims of downsizing, lost pensions, reduced incomes, and a future without hope of comfortable financial retirement and leisure. The joke of expiring under the yellow reflection of the golden arches, or run down by the shopper stampede to the blue light special is, in all actuality, what they are facing, since there isn't any financial nest egg except the equity left after selling their handyman special family home and it's furnishing.

However, with children raised and moved away, the dream to sell it all, and live one last hurrah, is a wonderful alternative to the conservative certainty of their last years together lived in frugality and boredom.

Here's the plot:

The boomers sell everything, buy a new, small SUV and set off cross country for a month-long adventure of a lifetime. Starting from New Jersey, the couple leisurely make their way to Seattle, WA, to meet their final destiny. Imagine the subplots that can develop -- the people that they meet along the way, the stories and lives they experience, as the criss cross the country through cities, small towns, mountains, deserts, national parks, eventually arriving at their final destination to finish off their once dead-end lives, with enough memories from their travels to carry them through their last years with dignity and renewed strength.

Not a bad scenario!! Remember ...

Fairy tales can come true, they can happen to you, if you're young at heart!

Friday, June 04, 2004
 
THE POPE WEARS A TIARA ... AND SPEAKS THROUGH HIS HAT!

"Ambiguous moral positions, the distortion of reason by particular interest groups ... are just some examples of a perspective of life which fails to seek truth itself and then abandons the search for the ultimate goal and meaning of human existence," John Paul said.

He urged church leaders to be courageous despite detractors. "Some today view Christianity as weighed down by structures and failing to respond to people's spiritual needs," he said.

"Rights are at times reduced to self-centered demands: the growth of prostitution and pornography in the name of adult choice, the acceptance of abortion in the name of women's rights, the approval of same sex unions in the name of homosexual rights," he said.


"The Catholic Church forbids abortion and considers homosexual activity a sin."

Yep, Johnny Paul, you really see the moral dilemma we Americans are facing, and if you look hard enough, you will find it especially in your own church. Turning away from the Catholic church is a by-product of decades of maltreatment of the Catholic laity by the Catholic clergy. Sexual abuse of innocents, financial misconduct by pastors and bishops, my oh my, years of denial, misuse of power, persecution of victims, lies and debauchery, have taken their toll among the loyalty of your once-faithful followers. And yet JP, you speak of "the distortion of reason by particular interest groups" -- when the Catholic church is one of the greatest offenders.

It took years for the church to start to clean its own house, and only did so because the sexual clergy abuse scandals were so wide-spread and so far-reaching it couldn't control the gigantic monster it had created and nurtured for so many years. The church tried, but the beast burst from the darkness to the light of the public domain and with it, Mother church lost all credibility, with its blind and unwavering position of denial.

The church may consider homosexual activity a sin, but how many of the clergy are themselves sexually active homosexuals? The church condemns prostitution and pornography but how many of the clergy have and are leading truly celibate and chaste lives?

With donations declining, the church needs to reassess itself, if it again wants the financial support of its congregations. It must give back for the years of neglect and exploitation to gain back the trust, respect and support of its people. The Catholic clergy was itself a factor in creating the "self-centered demands" for which the Pope now criticizes the American people.

So JP, in the name of God, stop criticizing your people, and start nurturing them.


Tuesday, June 01, 2004
 
ROADKILL TV ...

The WB Superstar USA is the latest contribution to RoadKill TV, which emulates American Idol only showcasing the worst of the worst singers/performers, who supposedly believe they are the best of the best.

Since there was nothing on TV last week, I ventured to watch this show for the first, and believe me -- the last time. Whether these contestants truly believe they have talent is questionable. Obviously, this brings reality TV to an all time low, but whatever floats your boat! Suffice it to say William Hung would have been disqualified on the first audition.

I've dismissed most of reality TV, Idol included. This genre has run its course, and no matter what island, hardships, disgusting bugs or inners are offered to finicky palates, or which creepy crawlers crawl into bed with greedy, lecherous contestants, I will no longer subject myself to roadkill TV. No more surgical makeovers, dating and mating shows -- all gone from my viewing list. Goodbye Paris and Nicky -- don't further submit yourselves to the indignation of rubbing elbows with the common folks -- it's so hard for us all to see your Gucci's covered in pig shit.

(Evidently Paris is truly talented in one area and certainly has the making of an Adult film star as showcased in her homemade video. Maybe she should stick with what she knows and does best!)

Andy Warhol certainly hit the mark about the pursuit of 15 minutes of fame. But although 15 minutes can seem like an eternity, the entertainment industry needs to get 'real' - - it's finally over!
Get the 'beat' boys and start packing up your offices for the unemployment lines ...

Bad Boys, Bad Boys, Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you? ...


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