Two amazing and glorious things have come to pass in the Coco Nation this week. First, word that Conan, media gag finally lifted, will be allowed to share some of his (albeit watered-down) feelings on the CBS news magazine "60 Minutes" tomorrow evening. The same day that this news dawned, we were also greeted with previews of the Time "100 most Intriguing" edition, in which our beloved Mr. O'Brien is not only featured, but is showcased on the fold-out cover. Good news for those of us who spent many a late night voting in the Time poll over and over and over..... Hey, I have a life! I just choose not to strain myself with too much activity....(I have an extremely fragile constitution...*cough*)
In the matter of the Time article, I take pause to wonder: If this whole NBC fiasco had not taken place, would Conan have merited a place on the roster of candidates? Or would he have have continued to fly under the main-stream radar as he has for most of his career? I find it slightly ironic (or maybe more poetic) that it took being treated horribly in the cruel glare of the public eye for many to come to realize what a small band of us have known for years: Conan is awesome. He's one of the few celebrities actually worthy of being celebrated. And - he's simply funnier and smarter than anyone out there. In this regard, we owe NBC many thanks - "Freebird" indeed.
As for tomorrow night's "60 Minutes" report - there have already been lots of excerpts and even snippets of video released showing what will be discussed, so we have an idea of content. In basic terms, Conan will intelligently and eloquently try and set the record straight without staying too far into that legal gray area which NBC has enveloped around him like a straight jacket.... What we won't see is bellyaching, finger-pointing, accusations that he was "sucker punched" or "screwed." The feeling is that Conan has moved on, moved forward, made the absolute best of a really crappy situation.... He is smart enough to assess the circumstances for what is were and are, and has grown accordingly. In essence, he recognized where he wasn't wanted and so he left with his dignity intact. (Where was he when I was 24 and writing all those "why don't you love me?" letters to the guy who probably now still refers to me as "that psycho girl?") Does that mean he has no hard feelings? Of course not. A person can't be shat upon in such an unfair and public way and not have residual feelings of anger. But, like any mature adult who is now headlining the most kick-ass North American comedy and music tour EVER and has already signed on to host another BETTER show in the fall, he has moved on. Do you hear that Guy Who Didn't Love Me When I Was 24?? People CAN move on. And to you and NBC I have this one mature parting comment - Your loss. (Okay, one more mature parting comment - you Slimy Suck Weasel!)
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
The blog post from "The Other Side"......
It's been five days since I experienced the Conan O'Brien "Legally Prohibited from Being Funny on Television" show in Seattle, WA. For five days it has been percolating in my mind, bubbling and rolling and sloshing around in all the vacant space up there...... For five days I have been trying to decide on the right words to express just what I saw and felt and tasted.....And now, as I finally sit to put words to screen - I am still coming up short. Instead of stretching my already overtaxed brain to the limits, I am just going to drag you, the Gentle Reader, along with me as I recount the day that was April 18th, 2010.
As my sexy husband (we'll call him "Ryan") and I were pulling into the metropolis that is downtown Seattle, a Nirvana song suddenly came blaring over our radio, and we knew we were in for a particularly kick-ass night! That feeling left as quickly as it at materialized as I tried to negotiate the printed Map Quest map my husband had thrust toward me as we rocketed off the freeway and into the maze of Seattle side streets. It didn't take long for us to notice that none of the streets meet a 90-degree angle, they just kind of randomly jet off in whatever direction they damn well feel like. We had to do a little doubling-back, but eventually we found our hotel. I was feeling pretty dang accomplished at this point.
We parked in front of said hotel, and Ryan ran in to see if they would let us check in early. I decided to orient myself, and using the crappy Map Quest map and reading the names of our side streets, I spent 10 minutes flipping the paper in every direction and trying to find where we might be in Seattle. Finally, my Tourist Sense started to tingle and I glanced over my right shoulder. There towered the mighty Seattle Space Needle in all its sparkly white glory. When Ryan emerged, I didn't tell him how unobservant I had been.....I figured he'd have plenty more opportunities to laugh at me throughout the day (and I was right!)
He and I walked to Seattle Center to check out some of the local atmosphere. Immediately we were struck by how beautiful and artsy this area of Seattle was. My fat and unfit ass also noticed that it is built on a lot of hills. I told my ass to shut up and on we walked. As we had arrived at lunch time, Ryan and I were hungry, so we decided to try and find the McMenamin's Pub that we knew to be just a block or two from McCaw Hall, where we'd be seeing La Coco later that evening. In order to get there, we had to walk all the way around the hall. And that is when we spotted the tour buses. I immediately recognized them as belonging to the road crew for "Prohibited".....and I had the most overwhelming urge to pound on the doors to see if Bley was taking a crap on either of them. Alas, my more sensible husband reminded me how restraining orders can put a cramp in concert experiences....So on we trudged....
After lunch and a couple of fine beers, we found our way back to the Space Needle. Not having the time or finances to actually go up in the thing, we did explore the wonder that is the "Gift Shop." Our children needed local crap, and they were jam-packed with it. A few key chains, magnets, and water bottles later, it was getting close to the Monorail Meet-Up. I can't tell you how cool it is that Seattle has a monorail, when it just so happens that Conan's most famous (and brilliant) Simpson's episode was the one featuring a monorail. It was so perfect, it was almost surreal.....And even better, we got to meet up with some fellow CocoNuts to experience it! First we met Phan, then Sara, then Sam arrived, then Regina....We all piled on and took the amazing ten-minute adventure that showed us some of the amazing Seattle architecture. Then - it was time for Jabu's!
Jabu's is a just two blocks from McCaw Hall. CocoNut Nancy had worked hard to arrange a meet-up for us that was also a fund raiser for Stiller Strong. It is a very cool dark-wood-and-neon old school kind of bar. We were immediately greeted by the awesome Nancy....as well as a room full of lesbian softball players. At first, we weren't exactly sure how our crazy Coco-nuttiness would blend with their sportiness..... but it soon became apparent that these were the coolest lesbian softball players EVER! They not only gave up money for our cause, they also entertained us with some amazing karaoke and, when the time came, they donned party hats and helped us sing "Happy Birthday" to Conan.
Speaking of karaoke, we did manage to warble some. I myself jumped into a duet of "Surrender" with Sam.... I cannot sing worth beans but I love the song! Later, we got the whole group to join in on "Freebird." I had just enough alcohol in me and enough lesbians cheering for us that it truly felt like an epic moment. The latest tally we have, BTW, is just over $200 that we raised for Haiti... Nancy is a superstar!!
Before we knew it, it was time to walk to the show. We decided to leave our party hats on, to show Conan some birthday love. McCaw hall is a large, beautiful structure dripping with culture and artsy-fartsiness. Primarily used to showcase opera, it had lots of windows and sculptures and real wine glasses instead of plastic cups. This was true of every level....I know, because we had to climb to the veeerrrryyyy tippy top to find our seats. We were up pretty high. I passed a sherpa on the way to the ladies' room. But - the hall is built in such a way that there are no obstructed views or bad seats. We could see a lot of the floor below us, and it was fun to try and find party hats among the crowd.
Now, as for the show itself - out of respect for my fellow CocoNuts who have not yet seen it, you will get no spoilers from me. Suffice to say I laughed until I thought I would pass out, I screamed, I cried, I peed (in the bathroom, yeesh!) and it was all over way too soon. Seeing Conan after all the time of not seeing or hearing him was almost surreal. There were times I wondered if it was all a dream....but I knew my mind was not capable of dreaming up such hilarity....not in a million years. Not with a million monkeys typing.
When it was all over, of course I got the T-shirt (otherwise I could not say "Been there, done that, got the T-shirt) and a key chain besides. Conan now follows me wherever I drive! Ryan and I went out for another drink afterward, and some food. At midnight we walked back to our hotel and reveled in the memories that we had just made - and the new friends as well. The next morning we went to breakfast on Pike Street with some old friends and then made our way back home to Oregon. It still kind of seems odd that it is over, that the show we'd been talking about since before it was even really a "thing" was in the old memory banks. Would I do it again? You bet, in a heartbeat. Would I change anything? Well, I might try to find a way to pause time for just a second, while Conan was on stage doing his thing, to really try and grasp the enormity of it. Maybe then I could find the right words to make you all understand just what this experience meant to me... And that's all you need, right? Me, finding more words....
As my sexy husband (we'll call him "Ryan") and I were pulling into the metropolis that is downtown Seattle, a Nirvana song suddenly came blaring over our radio, and we knew we were in for a particularly kick-ass night! That feeling left as quickly as it at materialized as I tried to negotiate the printed Map Quest map my husband had thrust toward me as we rocketed off the freeway and into the maze of Seattle side streets. It didn't take long for us to notice that none of the streets meet a 90-degree angle, they just kind of randomly jet off in whatever direction they damn well feel like. We had to do a little doubling-back, but eventually we found our hotel. I was feeling pretty dang accomplished at this point.
We parked in front of said hotel, and Ryan ran in to see if they would let us check in early. I decided to orient myself, and using the crappy Map Quest map and reading the names of our side streets, I spent 10 minutes flipping the paper in every direction and trying to find where we might be in Seattle. Finally, my Tourist Sense started to tingle and I glanced over my right shoulder. There towered the mighty Seattle Space Needle in all its sparkly white glory. When Ryan emerged, I didn't tell him how unobservant I had been.....I figured he'd have plenty more opportunities to laugh at me throughout the day (and I was right!)
He and I walked to Seattle Center to check out some of the local atmosphere. Immediately we were struck by how beautiful and artsy this area of Seattle was. My fat and unfit ass also noticed that it is built on a lot of hills. I told my ass to shut up and on we walked. As we had arrived at lunch time, Ryan and I were hungry, so we decided to try and find the McMenamin's Pub that we knew to be just a block or two from McCaw Hall, where we'd be seeing La Coco later that evening. In order to get there, we had to walk all the way around the hall. And that is when we spotted the tour buses. I immediately recognized them as belonging to the road crew for "Prohibited".....and I had the most overwhelming urge to pound on the doors to see if Bley was taking a crap on either of them. Alas, my more sensible husband reminded me how restraining orders can put a cramp in concert experiences....So on we trudged....
After lunch and a couple of fine beers, we found our way back to the Space Needle. Not having the time or finances to actually go up in the thing, we did explore the wonder that is the "Gift Shop." Our children needed local crap, and they were jam-packed with it. A few key chains, magnets, and water bottles later, it was getting close to the Monorail Meet-Up. I can't tell you how cool it is that Seattle has a monorail, when it just so happens that Conan's most famous (and brilliant) Simpson's episode was the one featuring a monorail. It was so perfect, it was almost surreal.....And even better, we got to meet up with some fellow CocoNuts to experience it! First we met Phan, then Sara, then Sam arrived, then Regina....We all piled on and took the amazing ten-minute adventure that showed us some of the amazing Seattle architecture. Then - it was time for Jabu's!
Jabu's is a just two blocks from McCaw Hall. CocoNut Nancy had worked hard to arrange a meet-up for us that was also a fund raiser for Stiller Strong. It is a very cool dark-wood-and-neon old school kind of bar. We were immediately greeted by the awesome Nancy....as well as a room full of lesbian softball players. At first, we weren't exactly sure how our crazy Coco-nuttiness would blend with their sportiness..... but it soon became apparent that these were the coolest lesbian softball players EVER! They not only gave up money for our cause, they also entertained us with some amazing karaoke and, when the time came, they donned party hats and helped us sing "Happy Birthday" to Conan.
Speaking of karaoke, we did manage to warble some. I myself jumped into a duet of "Surrender" with Sam.... I cannot sing worth beans but I love the song! Later, we got the whole group to join in on "Freebird." I had just enough alcohol in me and enough lesbians cheering for us that it truly felt like an epic moment. The latest tally we have, BTW, is just over $200 that we raised for Haiti... Nancy is a superstar!!
Before we knew it, it was time to walk to the show. We decided to leave our party hats on, to show Conan some birthday love. McCaw hall is a large, beautiful structure dripping with culture and artsy-fartsiness. Primarily used to showcase opera, it had lots of windows and sculptures and real wine glasses instead of plastic cups. This was true of every level....I know, because we had to climb to the veeerrrryyyy tippy top to find our seats. We were up pretty high. I passed a sherpa on the way to the ladies' room. But - the hall is built in such a way that there are no obstructed views or bad seats. We could see a lot of the floor below us, and it was fun to try and find party hats among the crowd.
Now, as for the show itself - out of respect for my fellow CocoNuts who have not yet seen it, you will get no spoilers from me. Suffice to say I laughed until I thought I would pass out, I screamed, I cried, I peed (in the bathroom, yeesh!) and it was all over way too soon. Seeing Conan after all the time of not seeing or hearing him was almost surreal. There were times I wondered if it was all a dream....but I knew my mind was not capable of dreaming up such hilarity....not in a million years. Not with a million monkeys typing.
When it was all over, of course I got the T-shirt (otherwise I could not say "Been there, done that, got the T-shirt) and a key chain besides. Conan now follows me wherever I drive! Ryan and I went out for another drink afterward, and some food. At midnight we walked back to our hotel and reveled in the memories that we had just made - and the new friends as well. The next morning we went to breakfast on Pike Street with some old friends and then made our way back home to Oregon. It still kind of seems odd that it is over, that the show we'd been talking about since before it was even really a "thing" was in the old memory banks. Would I do it again? You bet, in a heartbeat. Would I change anything? Well, I might try to find a way to pause time for just a second, while Conan was on stage doing his thing, to really try and grasp the enormity of it. Maybe then I could find the right words to make you all understand just what this experience meant to me... And that's all you need, right? Me, finding more words....
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Tomorrow is that thing with that guy!!
I figured that this would be an excellent time to write a "Waiting for Coco" blog post....after all, at this time tomorrow, my husband and I will be in Seattle, getting ready to experience the awesomeness that is the "Conan O'Brien Legally Prohibited from Being Funny on Televison" tour/extravaganza.... So my mind is probably just about bursting with all sorts of thoughts and feelings and excited musings, correct?
Nope. My mind is surprisingly quiet right now. Don't get me wrong, it is not from lack of excitement.....I believe it is from too much excitement. Human Behavior specialists would probably tell you that at this moment in time, I am "over-stimulated." Which sounds like a really great thing...."If stimulated is good, then over-stimulated must kick ass!!" But instead of walking around all joyous and obnoxiously cheerful (like I was yesterday - man, you wouldn't have wanted to be near me yesterday....) I am quiet, pensive, a little edgy. One might say irritable. Another one might say bitchy. I think I agree with the latter.
I've been like this before in my life....the day of my wedding, I think I made the photographer cry... He deserved it, making me smile so damn much. I've had three kids NATURALLY (do NOT get me started on this subject, you really don't want to know. Really. Trust me) and there is this part of labor they call "transition" wherein the laboring mother becomes quiet and loses her usually chipper sense of humor. My husband refers to those moments as "the times when the laughter died." That was sort of like now, although I am not currently in a hospital gown with my ass hanging out, so my mood is somewhat brighter...
I guess I am not just excited, but beyond excited. My brain has tossed around the idea of the show and the Conan and the people and the Seattle-ness of the day so much that it finally overloaded. Now in my mind's eye I see snippets of Woody Woodpecker cartoons and can hear distant echos of Muzak....(Hey, The Carpenters! I'm on the top of the world, looking down on creation...) and that's about it. When I try to imagine what tomorrow will bring, I get a fuzzy "Max Headroom" static and then more cartoons. When I try to picture the venue and the stage and the giddy anticipation, I get more Muzak (John Denver this time.) So I guess tomorrow can't get here soon enough. I am afraid that what is left of my brain will begin to like this little vacation, and decide to stay AWOL for awhile.... Not that being brainless is a bad thing. I hear there are NBC execs who have done it for years! (OOOOHHH, BURN!!) Yes, even nearly catatonic I can manage to crack an NBC joke. Guess I'm not as totally gone as I thought...
When next I blog, I will have had the Conan experience under my belt and locked tightly in my memory banks. Hopefully, I will be back to my zany old self again. But, if I do end up stuck in permanent bitch mode, someone remind me that I am supposed to work hard and be kind. Please? I would hate to become cynical so late in the game.....I would probably suck at it, which would make me even more cranky...
Nope. My mind is surprisingly quiet right now. Don't get me wrong, it is not from lack of excitement.....I believe it is from too much excitement. Human Behavior specialists would probably tell you that at this moment in time, I am "over-stimulated." Which sounds like a really great thing...."If stimulated is good, then over-stimulated must kick ass!!" But instead of walking around all joyous and obnoxiously cheerful (like I was yesterday - man, you wouldn't have wanted to be near me yesterday....) I am quiet, pensive, a little edgy. One might say irritable. Another one might say bitchy. I think I agree with the latter.
I've been like this before in my life....the day of my wedding, I think I made the photographer cry... He deserved it, making me smile so damn much. I've had three kids NATURALLY (do NOT get me started on this subject, you really don't want to know. Really. Trust me) and there is this part of labor they call "transition" wherein the laboring mother becomes quiet and loses her usually chipper sense of humor. My husband refers to those moments as "the times when the laughter died." That was sort of like now, although I am not currently in a hospital gown with my ass hanging out, so my mood is somewhat brighter...
I guess I am not just excited, but beyond excited. My brain has tossed around the idea of the show and the Conan and the people and the Seattle-ness of the day so much that it finally overloaded. Now in my mind's eye I see snippets of Woody Woodpecker cartoons and can hear distant echos of Muzak....(Hey, The Carpenters! I'm on the top of the world, looking down on creation...) and that's about it. When I try to imagine what tomorrow will bring, I get a fuzzy "Max Headroom" static and then more cartoons. When I try to picture the venue and the stage and the giddy anticipation, I get more Muzak (John Denver this time.) So I guess tomorrow can't get here soon enough. I am afraid that what is left of my brain will begin to like this little vacation, and decide to stay AWOL for awhile.... Not that being brainless is a bad thing. I hear there are NBC execs who have done it for years! (OOOOHHH, BURN!!) Yes, even nearly catatonic I can manage to crack an NBC joke. Guess I'm not as totally gone as I thought...
When next I blog, I will have had the Conan experience under my belt and locked tightly in my memory banks. Hopefully, I will be back to my zany old self again. But, if I do end up stuck in permanent bitch mode, someone remind me that I am supposed to work hard and be kind. Please? I would hate to become cynical so late in the game.....I would probably suck at it, which would make me even more cranky...
Thursday, April 15, 2010
TBS - the best of all the BS! ( Wait, what??)
What a crazy, hazy, upside-downy time to be a Conan O'Brien fan, eh? (I imagine it is even crazier to be a Conan O'Brien right about now, but only one person gets to do that and I don't want to make my target reading audience too narrow....) Not four months ago he was sitting as the Crown Prince of Late Night, and from that time to this he has been unfairly dethroned, unemployed, silenced, bearded, unsilenced via Twitter, in talks with Fox (in a box wearing socks), announcing a tour, going on said tour, and in what has to be the head-snappingest turn of all - signing on for a late night stint on TBS. There was an actual audible "gasp" that went up when this news hit the 'nets...followed by one unified "Wha.....???" But then the syncopation stopped, and everyone seemed to have their very own opinion on the matter. Many, like myself, shook off the surprise pretty quickly and rejoiced that our Big Red funnyman would be returning to our TVs before the year was out. In our estimation, 2010 was turning out to be not so bad after all..... For others, the news took a little longer to grow on them. Yet others....well, lets just say TBS was not their first choice, or even 101st choice. That 7-11 parking lot looked more promising to them. And to some degree, I understand the disappointment. At first glance, cable could seem like a step down. A steep one. With no handrails.
I was reminded of a joke as this whole thing was unfolding....I don't remember who told it or when, but I remember the gist of it. A guy is crawling through the desert, no food or water, sun beating down on his head.....He crawls along through the blistering sand, thinking every moment could be his last. He collapses in the sand, waiting for the vultures overhead to descend, when a shadow falls across him. Thinking he is hallucinating, he is surprised when strong hands lift him to the back of a camel. He is taken to a sparking oasis, and he is lead to a shaded area surrounded by all kinds of beautiful tropical plants. A gorgeous woman in harem garb approaches with a tall glass of water. Just as she is lifting it to his parched lips, he lifts his haggard eyes to meet hers and barely manages to croak..."What, no ice?"
Now, I am not suggesting that Conan was doing as badly as our friend in the desert. He is a very talented man, and he would always have prospects. The problem is, and was, that the timing of all of this stunk like last week's roadkill. No one was ready to welcome Mr. O'Brien into the bosom of their late-night schedule, because there was just no room. The networks couldn't drop everything and rearrange their contracted shows, and Fox couldn't persuade their affiliates that the time for change was upon them....not on such short notice. So here was a major-league hitter with no team to play for....so yeah, he may as well have been crawling around the desert, until TBS rode up on that camel! (Watch out, they spit!!)
Is it the perfect scenario? No, not at all. Is it what Conan deserves? Hells to the no, we all know he should still be sitting at the helm of the Tonight Show.....or even better, running his own Coco network -- all Conan, all the time! Talk about ice cubes in your water!! But.....it is what it is, and we all also know that whatever Conan O'Brien touches turns to pure awesome. If any one person could take TBS from the depths of adequacy to the height of the late night heap, it would be he. Or him. Whatever is grammatically correctest. Now, we all get the privilege of sitting back and watching television history unfold before us.....and that doesn't happen just every day. So thanks to TBS for recognizing greatness when it string-dances in front of you....we appreciate it, and we appreciate the chance to see our Coco spin on his mark again. Spin, funnyman, spin!! We'll be watching....
I was reminded of a joke as this whole thing was unfolding....I don't remember who told it or when, but I remember the gist of it. A guy is crawling through the desert, no food or water, sun beating down on his head.....He crawls along through the blistering sand, thinking every moment could be his last. He collapses in the sand, waiting for the vultures overhead to descend, when a shadow falls across him. Thinking he is hallucinating, he is surprised when strong hands lift him to the back of a camel. He is taken to a sparking oasis, and he is lead to a shaded area surrounded by all kinds of beautiful tropical plants. A gorgeous woman in harem garb approaches with a tall glass of water. Just as she is lifting it to his parched lips, he lifts his haggard eyes to meet hers and barely manages to croak..."What, no ice?"
Now, I am not suggesting that Conan was doing as badly as our friend in the desert. He is a very talented man, and he would always have prospects. The problem is, and was, that the timing of all of this stunk like last week's roadkill. No one was ready to welcome Mr. O'Brien into the bosom of their late-night schedule, because there was just no room. The networks couldn't drop everything and rearrange their contracted shows, and Fox couldn't persuade their affiliates that the time for change was upon them....not on such short notice. So here was a major-league hitter with no team to play for....so yeah, he may as well have been crawling around the desert, until TBS rode up on that camel! (Watch out, they spit!!)
Is it the perfect scenario? No, not at all. Is it what Conan deserves? Hells to the no, we all know he should still be sitting at the helm of the Tonight Show.....or even better, running his own Coco network -- all Conan, all the time! Talk about ice cubes in your water!! But.....it is what it is, and we all also know that whatever Conan O'Brien touches turns to pure awesome. If any one person could take TBS from the depths of adequacy to the height of the late night heap, it would be he. Or him. Whatever is grammatically correctest. Now, we all get the privilege of sitting back and watching television history unfold before us.....and that doesn't happen just every day. So thanks to TBS for recognizing greatness when it string-dances in front of you....we appreciate it, and we appreciate the chance to see our Coco spin on his mark again. Spin, funnyman, spin!! We'll be watching....
Monday, April 12, 2010
THIS IS NOT A DRILL! It's real! It's here! It's really here!!
When I was a little kid, Christmas took FOREVER to arrive. I would bug my mother all year long to look through the pages of the calendar, assessing just how much longer I had to wait. By about Halloween, the countdown became almost unbearable, and Thanksgiving seemed like a giftless torture practice session. As the season progressed, and the tree went up and the stockings were hung, my anticipation drove me to such a frenzied state that when the big day actually arrived, my euphoria almost killed me. I couldn't breathe deep enough, I couldn't focus on any one thing for more than a minute without my head threatening to explode. Yes, I was an excitable child. And I have recently found out that I am not much calmer as an adult.
Today, Christmases are a whole different ballgame. Now, as a parent, it befalls me to make my own kids go into joy-induced annual comas while juggling all the other craziness of the season as well. I still love that holiday, but it isn't the same as it once was. What IS promising to be a volcano of happy is the "now real" Conan tour. Much like Christmas, I have been counting it down ever since I bought the tickets... Luckily it has only been a matter of weeks, but even still it felt as if it would never get here. On the eve of the first concert, Conan and crew have been photographed hanging out with fans in Eugene, OR. This is comparable to the weather man mentioning that Santa has been spotted over houses just a few time zones away. He is real! He is coming!! And in just a matter of time, I going to experience him!! My adult mind can't process this any better than my child mind did....
When the actual day rolls around, I wonder if I will be able to play it cool? Will I stroll maturely along the sidewalks of Seattle, hand in hand with my husband, taking in the local sites and chatting amiably about the show to come? OR....will I be running up and down the streets, dashing into restaurants and storefronts hoping for a peek of a random band member, screaming up at hotel balconies in the hopes that Conan himself would step out to tell me to shut the hell up? Will I attack unsuspecting red heads who are out for a stroll, women and children included?? Will I burst into tears as I stand in line to show my tickets, making security guards just a little tense and causing my husband to state he'll never let me have Kahlua before a comedy show again??
As I look back on the childhood Christmases of yore, I now realize that a large part of the magic came in the waiting. I wonder if this will be the case of the Conan show, too. Maybe it could never live up to my expectations...or maybe it will surpass them. All I know is that one week from right this moment, I will have already been and gone again. All of the "going to be" moments will have become memories. That bright, shiny package under the tree will be laid open, and I'll finally know if it is a kick-ass Barbie Town House or a whole bunch of underwear. No matter what, I will appreciate the gift and feel warm and tingly for even getting it....(But deep down, I am rooting for the Town House!)
Today, Christmases are a whole different ballgame. Now, as a parent, it befalls me to make my own kids go into joy-induced annual comas while juggling all the other craziness of the season as well. I still love that holiday, but it isn't the same as it once was. What IS promising to be a volcano of happy is the "now real" Conan tour. Much like Christmas, I have been counting it down ever since I bought the tickets... Luckily it has only been a matter of weeks, but even still it felt as if it would never get here. On the eve of the first concert, Conan and crew have been photographed hanging out with fans in Eugene, OR. This is comparable to the weather man mentioning that Santa has been spotted over houses just a few time zones away. He is real! He is coming!! And in just a matter of time, I going to experience him!! My adult mind can't process this any better than my child mind did....
When the actual day rolls around, I wonder if I will be able to play it cool? Will I stroll maturely along the sidewalks of Seattle, hand in hand with my husband, taking in the local sites and chatting amiably about the show to come? OR....will I be running up and down the streets, dashing into restaurants and storefronts hoping for a peek of a random band member, screaming up at hotel balconies in the hopes that Conan himself would step out to tell me to shut the hell up? Will I attack unsuspecting red heads who are out for a stroll, women and children included?? Will I burst into tears as I stand in line to show my tickets, making security guards just a little tense and causing my husband to state he'll never let me have Kahlua before a comedy show again??
As I look back on the childhood Christmases of yore, I now realize that a large part of the magic came in the waiting. I wonder if this will be the case of the Conan show, too. Maybe it could never live up to my expectations...or maybe it will surpass them. All I know is that one week from right this moment, I will have already been and gone again. All of the "going to be" moments will have become memories. That bright, shiny package under the tree will be laid open, and I'll finally know if it is a kick-ass Barbie Town House or a whole bunch of underwear. No matter what, I will appreciate the gift and feel warm and tingly for even getting it....(But deep down, I am rooting for the Town House!)
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Can we blame Greenspan for this, too?
Our nation is in a recession. I get that, I know it, the people on those "Cash 4 Stolen Gold" commercials remind me of it every time I watch cable TV. I also know that in a recessed economy there is not only a lack of money but also a lack of resources. As a result, people are broke AND they can't get tomatoes on their Subway sandwich because tomatoes are crazy expensive and no one would buy a "15-dollar footlong." It doesn't work in the jingle. So everything is madness, and we have to buckle down and learn to do without a lot of the luxuries we once took for granted.
One thing I don't understand, however, is the lack of humor in current comedy. I mean, I know I am getting OLD, so my frame of reference is pretty broad, but I swear I remember a time when comedy on TV was funny. I remember laughing. It really doesn't seem like it was long ago, either....Maybe January?? Anyway, I can only conclude that the recession has trickled down into the world of comedy, and now humor is scarce. The thing is, though, that we as people need to laugh. It is a necessity of life, like breathing and love and caffeine. So now, much like people are settling for day trips instead of full vacations and boxed hair color over visiting the salon, they are also learning to laugh at things that aren't really funny....but will do in a pinch. They are desperate for laughter, and any laugh is better than none, right?
Wrong. These people are panicking. They are hysterical (and not the good "ha ha" kind.) They are thinking with their hearts instead of their heads. I am going to now symbolically slap them across the face (imagine, if you will, a sharp "slap" sound), shake them by their theoretic shoulders, and type boldly at them to get a grip!! Laughing just for laughter's sake is not worth it. Life is too short to commit to half-assed experiences. You can buy two cases of cheap beer for what it costs to buy a six-pack of the good stuff....but the premium beer will give you the better drinking event, and you won't end up peeing every six minutes either. You can rent an armful of bad movies for the price of one premium theater ticket, but the theater experience will transport you -- and with no late fees. And no J-Lo. You can set up a tent in your backyard all summer long, but it won't rival one night in a lodge at Yellowstone. Even with the bears attacks. You get my drift. Quality over quantity. There is no reason to settle for mediocrity, no reason to sacrifice excellence, no reason to watch Leno....
But even with all of that understood, here is the rub....
(Shakespeare.....yeah, I know stuff....)
The "comedy drought" that seems prevalent in our entertainments today is pretty much non- existent. There is funny everywhere, but you have to know where to look..... Classic British movie parodies, current British anything, random smart television sitcoms, rogue comedy tours (Hi, Conan!!), anything with Tina Fey, people who hang out on "I'm With Coco," Garfield comics, Flo the Progressive lady, C-SPAN, wedding dances on YouTube, pinata crotch-hits on AFV, robot skeleton sidekicks....There is SO much to laugh at out there, so much humor to be mined and enjoyed...There really is no excuse for sub-par comedy. None. Pandering to the lowest comedy denominator just isn't going to cut it. At least it shouldn't We all need to rise up, en masse, and tell those in charge of poor comedy programming that we are on to their little game, and we deserve better!
Take note, NBC.... We are bored as hell, and we aren't going to take it any more. Put that in your "Marriage Ref" and smoke it....
One thing I don't understand, however, is the lack of humor in current comedy. I mean, I know I am getting OLD, so my frame of reference is pretty broad, but I swear I remember a time when comedy on TV was funny. I remember laughing. It really doesn't seem like it was long ago, either....Maybe January?? Anyway, I can only conclude that the recession has trickled down into the world of comedy, and now humor is scarce. The thing is, though, that we as people need to laugh. It is a necessity of life, like breathing and love and caffeine. So now, much like people are settling for day trips instead of full vacations and boxed hair color over visiting the salon, they are also learning to laugh at things that aren't really funny....but will do in a pinch. They are desperate for laughter, and any laugh is better than none, right?
Wrong. These people are panicking. They are hysterical (and not the good "ha ha" kind.) They are thinking with their hearts instead of their heads. I am going to now symbolically slap them across the face (imagine, if you will, a sharp "slap" sound), shake them by their theoretic shoulders, and type boldly at them to get a grip!! Laughing just for laughter's sake is not worth it. Life is too short to commit to half-assed experiences. You can buy two cases of cheap beer for what it costs to buy a six-pack of the good stuff....but the premium beer will give you the better drinking event, and you won't end up peeing every six minutes either. You can rent an armful of bad movies for the price of one premium theater ticket, but the theater experience will transport you -- and with no late fees. And no J-Lo. You can set up a tent in your backyard all summer long, but it won't rival one night in a lodge at Yellowstone. Even with the bears attacks. You get my drift. Quality over quantity. There is no reason to settle for mediocrity, no reason to sacrifice excellence, no reason to watch Leno....
But even with all of that understood, here is the rub....
(Shakespeare.....yeah, I know stuff....)
The "comedy drought" that seems prevalent in our entertainments today is pretty much non- existent. There is funny everywhere, but you have to know where to look..... Classic British movie parodies, current British anything, random smart television sitcoms, rogue comedy tours (Hi, Conan!!), anything with Tina Fey, people who hang out on "I'm With Coco," Garfield comics, Flo the Progressive lady, C-SPAN, wedding dances on YouTube, pinata crotch-hits on AFV, robot skeleton sidekicks....There is SO much to laugh at out there, so much humor to be mined and enjoyed...There really is no excuse for sub-par comedy. None. Pandering to the lowest comedy denominator just isn't going to cut it. At least it shouldn't We all need to rise up, en masse, and tell those in charge of poor comedy programming that we are on to their little game, and we deserve better!
Take note, NBC.... We are bored as hell, and we aren't going to take it any more. Put that in your "Marriage Ref" and smoke it....
Friday, April 9, 2010
An "Open Letter" to Letterman Letter....
Dear David Letterman....
I blame you.
More specifically, I had some very substantial hopes pinned on your sarcastic shoulders, and you have not as yet delivered. As a consequence, I feel you are somewhat responsible for the terrible atrocities befalling television audiences across this great nation of ours.......
But I am getting ahead of myself. Please, allow me to explain.
I know that you are well aware of the whole NBC Tonight Show debacle. While you more than once claimed "I don't have a dog in this race" you did take some time to express an opinion or two on the matter.....and in those moments I never loved you more. Seriously, you knocked it right out of the ballpark. It seemed that we, the fans of Conan O'Brien, had an ally of sorts....Someone who knew the situation, knew what an ass Leno can be, and had the gumption to put it all out there. Our hearts swelled. (In a good way, not a "needing medical attention" way...)
And then......Super Bowl Sunday. The strangest television commercial ever to be aired in the history of televised media spilled itself across millions of screens.....There was you (not so bad) sitting next to Oprah (who had recently fallen out of favor with many for hosting a self-serving Leno whine-fest on her show) who in turn was sitting next to.....No!! Seriously? How could...SERIOUSLY? My head spun around this issue so rapidly that I ended up with whiplash of the soul..... I still don't really understand it, although I resolved to put it behind me. I decided, after trying out a plethora of new "cuss words" that the kids kick around these days, to forgive. After all, it was only one little commercial. AND -- the true nature of the beast would be unleashed when Leno returned opposite you, and you could turn your fire hose of ire and wit and anger on full blast in his face..... That would be worth watching.
Only......
It never happened. Sure, there have a been a few jabs tossed into your monologue - passing references, really. Nothing hard ball. And then......crickets. Not a peep. Even worse than that, and I hope you don't take this as too much of an insult, but you haven't exactly "stepped things up" over there at the Ed Sullivan Theater. We who do NOT enjoy Leno in any capacity were looking forward to seeing him return and fail. We were expecting you would bring your "A" game, bring out the big stars, do some big stunts, make the late night viewing audiences say "Leno who??".... And that did not happen. At ALL. Instead, he was allowed to waltz right back into the first place ratings spot. As the great and notable author Ernest Hemingway would have so eloquently stated...."What the hell???"
So is it fair to blame you? Probably not. You are just doing your job after all. Maybe the issue doesn't really mean anything to you. Maybe all the supposed hostilities betwixt yourself and Mr. Leno are just a fabrication for the press. Or, to give you more of a benefit of the doubt, maybe you have a more long-term card up your sleeve which, when played, will make the whole of the viewing audience gasp "OHHHHHHH!" In unison. THAT would be cool.
To conclude, Mr Letterman....In the words of my own beloved mother, I am not angry with you, but I am disappointed. If the guilt of that statement does not make you get off your Top-Ten reading behind and open up a can or two of New York-style whoop ass.....Well then, you are not the bitter old man I hoped (and prayed) you were. And yes, I know this is not "your fight"....but when it comes down to the age-old axiom of right vs. wrong, good vs. evil....isn't it really everyone's fight?
Sincerely,
Valerie Zwald
Coconut
I blame you.
More specifically, I had some very substantial hopes pinned on your sarcastic shoulders, and you have not as yet delivered. As a consequence, I feel you are somewhat responsible for the terrible atrocities befalling television audiences across this great nation of ours.......
But I am getting ahead of myself. Please, allow me to explain.
I know that you are well aware of the whole NBC Tonight Show debacle. While you more than once claimed "I don't have a dog in this race" you did take some time to express an opinion or two on the matter.....and in those moments I never loved you more. Seriously, you knocked it right out of the ballpark. It seemed that we, the fans of Conan O'Brien, had an ally of sorts....Someone who knew the situation, knew what an ass Leno can be, and had the gumption to put it all out there. Our hearts swelled. (In a good way, not a "needing medical attention" way...)
And then......Super Bowl Sunday. The strangest television commercial ever to be aired in the history of televised media spilled itself across millions of screens.....There was you (not so bad) sitting next to Oprah (who had recently fallen out of favor with many for hosting a self-serving Leno whine-fest on her show) who in turn was sitting next to.....No!! Seriously? How could...SERIOUSLY? My head spun around this issue so rapidly that I ended up with whiplash of the soul..... I still don't really understand it, although I resolved to put it behind me. I decided, after trying out a plethora of new "cuss words" that the kids kick around these days, to forgive. After all, it was only one little commercial. AND -- the true nature of the beast would be unleashed when Leno returned opposite you, and you could turn your fire hose of ire and wit and anger on full blast in his face..... That would be worth watching.
Only......
It never happened. Sure, there have a been a few jabs tossed into your monologue - passing references, really. Nothing hard ball. And then......crickets. Not a peep. Even worse than that, and I hope you don't take this as too much of an insult, but you haven't exactly "stepped things up" over there at the Ed Sullivan Theater. We who do NOT enjoy Leno in any capacity were looking forward to seeing him return and fail. We were expecting you would bring your "A" game, bring out the big stars, do some big stunts, make the late night viewing audiences say "Leno who??".... And that did not happen. At ALL. Instead, he was allowed to waltz right back into the first place ratings spot. As the great and notable author Ernest Hemingway would have so eloquently stated...."What the hell???"
So is it fair to blame you? Probably not. You are just doing your job after all. Maybe the issue doesn't really mean anything to you. Maybe all the supposed hostilities betwixt yourself and Mr. Leno are just a fabrication for the press. Or, to give you more of a benefit of the doubt, maybe you have a more long-term card up your sleeve which, when played, will make the whole of the viewing audience gasp "OHHHHHHH!" In unison. THAT would be cool.
To conclude, Mr Letterman....In the words of my own beloved mother, I am not angry with you, but I am disappointed. If the guilt of that statement does not make you get off your Top-Ten reading behind and open up a can or two of New York-style whoop ass.....Well then, you are not the bitter old man I hoped (and prayed) you were. And yes, I know this is not "your fight"....but when it comes down to the age-old axiom of right vs. wrong, good vs. evil....isn't it really everyone's fight?
Sincerely,
Valerie Zwald
Coconut
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