Sunday, February 26, 2012

A Night at the Movies



A few Fridays ago, my high school daughter had the day off from school.
When I was her age we called it playing hooky.
Nowadays they call it a Teacher Development Day.
Whatever that is.
But the bottom line is I got to enjoy a rare one-on-one day with my 14-year-old.
I called it a date.
But that creeped her out.
So instead we just referred to it as a father/daughter day.
Our father/daughter day began with lunch.
At a local Jewish deli.
The only Jewish deli in our town.
But this place is hardcore.
So hardcore we had Matzo Ball Soup.
A Knish.
Blintzes.
Kishka.
Corned Beef on Rye.

No mayo.
And for dessert, we enjoyed a bag of Kichel.
If you’ve never heard of Kichel.
Just clear your throat when you get to the CH in the middle of the word.
Maybe then it will sound more familiar.
Either way, our lunch was fantastic.
So good, she said “it felt like we were in New York again.”
Now that’s a compliment.
With our bellies full and our throats clear, we transitioned into part II of our date.
I mean our father/daughter day.
The movie.
And we had a bunch to choose from.
But we figured this was our opportunity to see something good.
You know, with the Oscars right around the corner.
We had already seen The Help.
And loved it.
A few days earlier we had rented that one from our local Red Box for $1.
Red Box -- the greatest invention ever.
The Help -- the greatest movie ever.
Ok, maybe not ever.
But we loved it.
All 146 minutes of it.
I love movies that feel real.
Even if they are fake.
And coming off that one, I had high hopes for our next one.
Not to mention, this time we would be in a real theater.
I called my friend Phil who raved that The Descendants was one of the best movies he’s ever seen.
Ever?
That was good enough for me.
Too bad he was wrong.
Oh, it was good.
At times.
But great?
Not so much.
Greatest ever?
Stop!
If they were trying to create a film to match the slow lifestyle in Hawaii, they succeeded.
I mean this thing was so slow my freshman daughter became a sophomore halfway through the film.
115 minutes felt like two hours.
We both wished that we would’ve gone with door #2 instead.
The Artist.
At least that had a dog in it.
And after Sunday’s Oscars we coulda bragged that we saw the best picture of the year.
Oh well.
There’s always next Teacher Development Day.
My kids have really taken a liking to the movies.
And not just kids movies.
Thanks to Red Box, we see at least a film a week.
Real Steel.
Mr. Popper’s Penguins.
Rise of the Planet of the Apes.
All the classics.
Hey what do you expect for $1.
But at least it keeps them interested in the big screen.
And it also made watching Sunday’s Academy Awards a much easier sell.
In fact, they were actually excited to see Oscar.
They loved Billy Crystal’s show opening.
Even though they had no idea who Billy Crystal was.
Then again, they had no idea who most of these people were.
When Barbara Streisand popped on the screen. my son asked, “what’s she from?”
My daughter quickly replied, “Meet the Fockers.”
Oh yeah, THAT’S where Barbara Streisand is from.

My son also thought Martin Scorsese was Tampa Bay manager Joe Maddon.
You can see why.
But all things considered, I really enjoyed watching the Oscars with the kids.
Not to mention it gave me some great blog material.
For example...
My daughter caught J. Lo’s left nip slip.
(So did I.)
The kids wanted to know why Canada was eligible for Best Foreign Film.
When The Artist came on in black & white, my son said “what’s up with this, we are not in the 50’s anymore.”
My son also wanted to know why the French actor from that film had a wife AND a partner.  
I told him, he's French.
Little did I know the partner in the movie was actually the wife of the Director in real life.
Those French.
We all loved Chris Rock.
I mean that guy is so funny, he could read the phone book and make me laugh.
It also made me wonder how great the show would’ve been had Eddie Murphy remained the host.
Speaking of Murphy, I learned during the broadcast that SNL actors have been nominated nine different times.
And they’ve never won.
When Angelina Jolie came out as a presenter, I noticed her face looked shiny.
And that she’s getting older.
My eight-year-old daughter noticed that “she’s really full of herself.”
One point for each of us.
We all noticed that Glenn Close makes for one UGLY guy.
So does Nick Nolte.
I cried when they showed Ghost.
Both seconds of it.
I cringed when the Iranian filmmaker unraveled his 8 1/2 by 11 piece of paper with his acceptance speech.
We all wondered why the sound editor guy would use the word “indefatigable” in his speech.
And we also wondered what it meant.
We wondered what that Cirque de Soleil thing was all about.
And why the girl with the giant afro got so much airtime while we were trying to remember the people who died.
My daughter wondered how Bradley Cooper was voted one of the hottest guys in the world with one of the unhottest mustaches.
But there was one moment that made us all smile.
When Rango won for best animated something or other.
You see a few years ago my wife was the teacher of the son of Rango Director Gore Verbinski.
And when he won on Sunday.
It was like we had won on Sunday.
I guess that’s the magic of the movies.

And isn't that what this night was all about.





Saturday, February 18, 2012

Disco Linferno

Linsanity.  Lincredible.  Lin Your Face.
The puns could go on all day.
And they have.
Norm Crosby could only wish to create so many new words.
Jeremy Lin of the New York Knicks is so hot right now,  David Letterman even did a list of the Top 10 Linsane Puns:
10.  LIN-termittent Windshield Wiper
  9. Law and Order: Criminal LIN-tent
  8. Ange-LIN-a JOL-emy
  7. LIN-ternational House of LIN-cakes
  6. Newt LIN-grich
  5. LIN-terest-bearing LIN-vestment Grade Financial LIN-strument
  4. Does this look LIN-fected to you?
  3. JERE-meat Sauce with LIN-guine
  2. KNI-xual LIN-tercourse
  1. You gotta be LIN it to LIN it
Dave is not the only one doing it either.
The crowd at Madison Square Garden these days looks more like a wrestling event than a basketball game.


But it was only a matter a time before somebody would make a wrong turn.
And in this case, the guilty party is the self-proclaimed worldwide leader in sports.
ESPN.
For the last few weeks, ESPN has treated Jeremy Lin like Michael Jordan.
Their coverage has been all Lin, all the time.
Pretty amazing treatment for a guy who has started seven games.
Seven AMAZING games, true.
But seven games nonetheless.
ESPN has been doing everything they can to cash in on this Linderella story.
Tickers and graphics and highlights and interviews.
Features, reporters and breakdowns.
Oh my.  
But after Friday’s game, they pushed it over the line.
Or is it over the Lin.
CHINK IN THE ARMOR
That was the headline on espn.com Friday after the Knicks lost their first game with Lin as their starting point guard.
As you might imagine, those four words got the four-letter network in hot water.
Actually it was just one of those words which got them in trouble.
And to their credit, espn.com removed the headline at 3:05am.
35 minutes after it was first posted.
The mega-network apologized for their Linsensitive mistake shortly thereafter.
But to make it worse, a tape also surfaced from an ESPNews segment on Wednesday.
In that segment, anchor Max Bretos used the same “Chink in the Armor” cliche to try and make a point.
Oh he made a point alright.
Now I don’t know Max Bretos, but it was very clear from watching the eight-second gaffe that Bretos was 100% guilty.
Guilty of making a stupid mistake.
And nothing more.
But in this age of political correctness, the last thing you can do is use the word CHINK in a story about someone of Chinese descent.
And God forbid you make fun of Jeremy Lin, the hottest sports story this side of Tim Tebow.

For the first time, maybe ever, the story of Jeremy Lin is a story that a billion Chinese people really do care about.
Which is nearly a billion more than would’ve noticed had Lin been doing this for the New Orleans Hornets.
Or Milwaukee Bucks.
Or if he was still with the Erie BayHawks of the NBA Development League.
Where he was playing a month and change ago.
It’s amazing what the bright lights of New York City can do for your career.
It was just two weeks ago that this baby was born.
Entering the Knicks game on February 4,  Lin had played a grand total of 55 NBA minutes in 23 NBA games this year.
And in those 23 games, he scored 32 points.
That’s 32 total points.
You don’t need a degree from the Ivy League to figure out that that’s less than a basket per game.
But Lin has one of those.
A degree from the Ivy League.
In fact, he only went there because nobody else wanted him.
Well nobody else wanted him on the basketball court.
During the recruiting process, it was Lin doing the recruiting.
He sent a resume and DVD of his high school basketball highlights to a bunch of schools.
All the Ivy League Schools.
Cal Berkeley, Stanford and UCLA.
This is no dummy.
But even with the grades, on and off the court, nobody bit.
And when no one else came calling, he settled for Harvard.
It must be nice, settling for Harvard.
But while he was there, he didn’t settle for anything.
In fact, he became a giant fish in that ivy pond.
Becoming the first player in Ivy League history to have 1450+ points, 450+ rebounds, 400+ assists and 200+ steals in a career.
Ok, we are talking Ivy League basketball.
But still.
Still with those numbers, the guy who didn’t get any scholarship offers.
Also didn’t get drafted by any NBA teams.
Not one.
But bouncing back from rejection is Lin’s middle name.
Actually Shu-How is his middle name.
His parents came to the U.S. from Taiwan in the 70s.
They eventually settled in California, where Lin was born in 1988.
According to Wikipedia, Lin is the first American player in NBA history to be of Chinese or Taiwanese descent.
And hence we reach the center of this story.
This is not a basketball story.
This is not a story about free throws or assists.
This is a story about life.
A story about perseverance.
And determination.
And desire.
And basketball.
This is a story about a man who is opening a door that has never been opened before.
Yao Ming, Shmao Ming.
As great as Yao was, and he was great, there is not one kid in this world who can relate to the 7-foot-4 star.
Jeremy Lin on the other hand.
That’s a different story.
We are all capable of not getting scholarships.
And we are all capable of not getting drafted.
And we are all capable of dreaming.
Of course, there’s no telling when this dream will end.

Or if it will end.
But for now, all we can do is just watch.
And enjoy.
And if you don’t believe.
Maybe you are just Lin Denial.




Monday, February 13, 2012

Off Key

If there was any good to come from Whitney Houston’s sudden and shocking passing on Saturday.
It’s that she didn’t have to sit through the 210 minute tragedy called the Grammy Awards on Sunday.
For years we have heard that the music business is dead.
Sunday night we confirmed it.
For three-and-a-half hours we watched an industry disappear in front of our eyes.
It was so bad.
Chris Brown performed.
Twice.
You know Chris Brown.
The dude who produced Rihanna's biggest hit.
She was also there.
And she sang too... two.
Two songs.
One by herself.
And one with Coldplay.
Now had the Grammy producers brought their A-Game, they would’ve had Brown and Rihanna duet a song.
“I’ve Got You Under My Skin.”
“Hit Me With Your Best Shot.”
“Beat It.”
Anything by The Black Eyed.... Peas. 
The possibilities are endless.
And it probably coulda happened.
As unbelievable as this sounds, those two young lovers are rumored to be back together.
Again.
I guess she just doesn’t know a bad thing when it hits her.


The hollywood crowd seemed to have forgotten about the past as well.


They stood and applauded Brown like he was Roman Polanski.

But these two were far from the worst part of this show.
That Grammy Award goes to something called Nicki Minaj.
Ok, I admit that I really enjoy Nicki’s song Super Bass.
But whatever good Nicki had done in the past was wiped out by her atrociously atrocious performance on Sunday.
I’m ok with weird.
I love Lady Gaga.
But Nicki’s skit was so far out there, I almost started begging for more Chris Brown.
It started with a confessional... and a priest... then a film... about an exorcism... followed by a new song.
About God knows what.
Then there was blue-haired Katy Perry.
She came out to sing her big hit “E.T.”, a song about Mary Hart’s legs.
But midway through the song, the music stopped.
And the mic gave out.
Followed by the lights.
For half a second, it looked like this show was about to get good.
A major league screw up.
On National TV.
But seconds later, the Katy Perry body double, who was fake singing that song, rushed off the stage into the darkness.
As the real Katy appeared above the stage.
To sing another song.
A new song.
About her bitter breakup with actor Russell Brand.
I didn’t see Don Henley in the crowd, but Katy’s lyrics brought plenty of dirty laundry.
“You chew me up and spit me up.  You took my life, you drained me down.  But that was then and this is now.”
This song was so venomous, Alanis Morissette was blushing.
Somewhere.
You remember her.
She was nominated for Best New Artist.
In 1996.
She probably would’ve won if it wasn’t for Hootie.
And his Blowfish.
This year’s top rookie went to something called Bon Iver.
Not Bon Jovi.
Bon Iver.
The guy who accepted the award, presumably Mr. Iver, provided the most uncomfortable moment of the night.
His acceptance speech.
It was clear that this guy doesn’t get out of his parent’s basement much.
And he certainly doesn’t talk in front of crowds much.
And he’s definitely never met anybody named Gucci.
And if he can sing, we wouldn’t know it.
He never got the chance to perform.
Now even with all the lousy moments, there were a few good ones.
Some even great.
Adele deserves every award they gave her.
And 21 more.
She is something special.
Let’s just hope she has another messy breakup before she writes her next album.
I loved Bruno Mars impression of James Brown.
Any night you see Bruce Springsteen is a good night.
And Jennifer Hudson’s tribute to Whitney was brilliant.
And touching.
The Foo Fighters were good... both times they performed.
And Sir Bacon loves Sir Paul McCartney.
But as for the other three hours.
Ouch!
Whether it was the 10-minute tribute to the Beach Boys.
Who haven’t had a #1 hit in the last 24 years.

And didn’t have one for 22 years before that.
Or the 10-minute tribute to Glen Campbell.
Who had a giant hit with Rhinestone Cowboy.
When I was in first grade.
38 years ago.
This was the worst excuse for an awards show since the ESPY’s.
And they had plenty of chances.
They had Carrie Underwood, Kelly Clarkson and Jennifer Hudson in the same room.
How ‘bout they sing a song together?
While Ryan Seacrest is kissing their feet.

Heck, Lady Gaga sat in the crowd, the entire night.
With a net over her face.
She didn’t get any awards.
She didn’t hand out any awards.
And she didn’t perform.
She didn’t even have a costume change.
Not even one.
I must’ve heard a dozen times that this was MUSIC’S BIGGEST NIGHT.
If that’s really true.
Whitney Houston, we have a problem.

RIP sweet voice.

We already miss you.