Tag Entertainment

The Groundhog and the Chicken

Michael Leave a comment

One thing that makes this country great is our sense of tradition. Granted we’re homing in on only 240 years of tradition and not the thousands you see in Europe or the tens of thousands in the very cradle of civilization but I’m still quite happy with our couple hundred years. And now it’s under attack – and it’s under attack by some of our very own people, the marshmallow peeps people who are trying to take over the groundhog’s God-given right to tell us when spring will begin.

Yes, the folks at Just Born Candy, makers of those cloyingly sweet, overly sticky, artificially colored candy barnyard animal facsimiles are trying to dethrone Punxsutawney Phil as Pennsylvania’s, as America’s, as the world’s number one prognosticator of the commencement of Spring. For 230 of America’s 239 springs, Phil has been the constant by which people have determined whether it’s safe to venture out or remain sheltered for six more weeks.

So universal is Phil’s attraction that official chapters of the Groundhog Club are found across the globe. So loved is Phil that over 30,000 people visit the small town of Punxsutawney situated in western Pennsylvania not far from the Allegheny National Forest to catch a glimpse of Phil emerging from his tree stump on Gobbler’s Knob.

Now the eastern Pennsylvania candy-makers claim their mascot is the true sign of the coming of Spring coinciding with the arrival of their marshmallow Peeps in stores. What a bunch of greedy hogwash if you’ll excuse my frankness. Those silly, sickly sweet confections are in the stores year round. There are peeps masquerading as marshmallow ghosts, Christmas trees, hearts, cherries, bunnies, and snowmen. Phil knows when his job is done he gets to take a well-deserved rest and chill out for the rest of the year content in the knowledge that he doesn’t have to try to invade our lives lest we forget his contribution to society.

Peeps versus Phil. How ridiculous! We’re supposed to substitute a fake chicken for a real groundhog? Ludicrous. Who ever heard of a ground chicken? Hmmm, ground chicken. Now that might be worth pursuing!

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Clearly you can tell I’m more than a bit passionate about Punxsutawney Phil. So much so that the only picture in the entire blog is of him, sort of. That little guy has made it into close to a dozen RRSB posts making him a Real Reality frequent flyer. See his debut – and his “picture” – here (Six Weeks, Feb. 2, 2012).

Writing on the Walls

Michael 1 Comment

I love Christmas time. It’s the craft shows. I admit it, I’m a sucker for craft shows and craft shows multiply at Christmas time like nobody’s business while making somebody some pretty good business. Not being terribly creative I appreciate those who can make things out of the whole cloth, especially the ones who use wood. I ooh and ahh over the wreaths and the glassware, the etchings and the paintwork.  But I will always stop and read the walls on the booths of those who write wisdom on 6×24 inch planks. For on them one might almost always find the perfect philosophy to live life by.

This certainly isn’t new ground. Past posts discussed self-expression by signage (Walls O’ Wisdom, March 19, 2012) with the help of departments of motor vehicles (UNDTSAY, April 2, 2012), squeezed onto license plate frames (Mobile Philosophy, June 30, 2014) and apparelly apparent (T(-Shirt) is for Thinking, July 30, 2015). The problem is that most of what gets reduced to writing has been reduced so many times over so many years that there is little left. How many times in how many different fonts in how many different finishes can you read “A Penny Saved is a Waste of Time?”

What we need are custom mass-produced pearls of wisdom, or even a good glass knock-off. I have found some of the best worded signs at shows – “Things Haven’t Been the Same Since that House Fell on My Sister,” “Don’t Tell Me What Kind of Day to Have,” and my all-time favorite “If at First you Don‘t Succeed, Redefine Success.” Still, I think we are missing some needed enlightened encouragement or encouraging enlightenment.

Things I thought I’d appreciate on my walls might be:
<<< 120 Minutes Equals One Happy Hour >>>
<<<Is it still a gift card if you buy it for yourself?>>>
<<< You can be whatever you want to be so don’t be stupid. >>>
<<< Nothing Is So Bad That You Can’t Make It Worse >>>

Just in case you didn’t know what to get me for Christmas.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Out to Pasture

Michael Leave a comment

2015 is an historic year in the world of horse racing. If you owned a television or a computer or a newspaper subscription you couldn’t have missed the first Triple Crown winner in 37 years. That’s not historic. It happened before. It was 37 years ago but still it had happened. No history was made.  History was made when American Pharoah (yes, that really is spelled wrong but that’s part of his charm) won horse racing’s Grand Slam – the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness Stakes, the Belmont Stakes, and The Breeders’ Cup Classic. He is the first horse to win all four races. Ever. That’s history.

It is also a fitting end to his active racing career. It is now time to for this stud to, ah, retire and go stand stud. The breeding company who handles American Pharoah’s breeding business has set a price of $200,000 per, umm, coupling. If he stands for 160 mares a year, a not unrealistic number, he stands to make $32 million a year. A thoroughbred’s average lifespan is 25 to 30 years, he is 3 years old, so he has 22 to 27 years to, uh, horse around. Just to make math a little easier, in twenty years he gets to make about $640 million with a couple years left over to relax, travel, maybe visit the grandkids, and have a bronze statue of him cast for posterity.

I too retired this year. Figuring the lifespan of my immediate predecessors I also could have about 22 to 27 years to go. I figure my retirement plan is worth about $32,000 a year and I further figure I will probably stand in the grocery store checkout lane about 160 times a year. In twenty years I’ll have made the princely sum of $640,000 and will still have a couple of years to sit around on my posterior.

I wonder if in my next life I can come back as a racehorse.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Encore, Again

Michael Leave a comment

The other day I watched Neil Simon’s Odd Couple II. Now that was odd. I never realized there was an Odd Couple II and I thought for sure I had seen everything that Neil Simon had written. Yet back in 1998 I missed that one. It was cute but had I missed it I probably wouldn’t have missed it.

Sequels are odd things in general. They can be wildly successful, consider the Hungry Games movies. They can be wildly unsuccessful ala the Hangover trilogy. Or they can be just plain unknown.

These are real movies with most if not all of the original cast (not direct to DVD or made for TV sequels banking on a movie name with actors names not household words like Road House 2 or Look What Happened to Rosemary’s Baby).

French Connection 2. The French Connection has what had been called the greatest car chase in movie history. An Oscar Winner in 1972 for best movie, best director, best adapted screenplay, and best actor (Gene Hackman), and nominated for best supporting actor (Roy Scheider). Hackman returned in the sequel four years later. Forty years later you can still find the French Connection on TV and movie sites but French Connection II has long been forgotten if it had ever been remembered at all.

Shock Treatment: This is a sort of sequel to the cult creating Rocky Horror Picture Show. Many of the original actors (though not Tim Curry) returned for this release six years after the Rocky Horror Picture Show but didn’t play the same characters as in the original movie.  Critically some called Shock Treatment a better film than the Rocky Horror Picture Show but where the latter has grossed $140 million in North American sales, the former hasn’t earned a quarter of that. But it is still out there and hit the London theater district with a live version in the spring of this year.

Psycho II (and III and even IV). Alfred Hitchcock’s classic thriller was reborn as Anthony Perkins reprised his role three times as Norman Bates. The only thing scary in the returns to the Bates Motel are that they were made at all. (Actually Pyscho IV isn’t a return. It is a prequel and was released as a made for TV movie.)

Then there are those sequels that some might not even know are sequels.

The Color of Money. With great performances by Paul Newman and Tom Cruise as mentor and student pool players, Newman’s Edie Felson character first hit the screen 25 years earlier when he starred as the young gun with Jackie Gleason as the established pool player and George C. Scott the mover and shaker in The Hustler.

They Call Me Mister Tibbs. Sidney Poitier repeated his role of Virgil Tibbs from In the Heat of the Night although he moved from Philadelphia to San Francisco to do it. The original movie was set in Sparta Mississippi where Philadelphian Poitier changes trains after visiting his mother. In the John Ball novel upon which the series is based, Virgil Tibbs is a police officer from Pasadena who is waiting for a train in Wells, South Carolina. In the sequel, Mr. Tibbs got to solve the crime in San Francisco where he now lives. A third movie, The Organization, also starring Sidney Poitier as Virgil Tibbs completed the movie franchise. The book series spanned seven novels and four short stories featuring Tibbs. In the Heat of the Night is the only title and plot shared by movie and book offerings.

Imitation is the highest form of flattery, so in 1820 said Charles Caleb Colton. Maybe that’s why there are so many sequels. Of course, that quote itself might be a sequel to other similarly worded sentiments from a couple hundred years earlier.  Sometimes sequels end up being an odd couple of movies, sometimes just plain odd, sometimes anything but odd. One thing is for sure, sequels will always be another thing.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Life Needs a Soundtrack

Michael Leave a comment

Do you know a problem with real reality? There are no clues to what’s coming next. Life needs a soundtrack.

Watch any movie or television show, even the so-called “reality” shows, and you see that they all have musical accompaniment. It’s quite clear when someone or something is to be happy, sad, humorous, suspenseful, romantic, mysterious, thrilling, or chilling. Just about the only time the background is silent is when the director intends for extreme drama. Even commercials have background music. Everything from auto insurance to male erectile dysfunction therapy has an associated tune. Why can’t we.

It sounded like a good idea when it popped into my head. Heaven knows there’s enough music up there. I’m always mentally humming a tune, a jingle, a theme. How hard would it be for that to be amplified and spill out around me so I know for sure what mood I’m in – not to mention everyone else who might be in the area?

It’s hard enough to get through a day without being misunderstood. Think of all the relationships that could be saved if there was a full orchestra ready to turn despair to hope, hope to thought, and thought to action. Imagine the peace people could experience if daily routines were spiced up with a bluesy southern anthem or smoothed out by a soft jazz composition. Think of your daily commute to the tune of a driving chorus instead of the tune of blaring horns and mufflers in need of repair.

If you really want to explore this idea, can we consider making life a musical? On second thought, I don’t know if I can handle a sudden eruption of song and dance while standing in line at the deli counter. “You’re the ham that I want. Ooo, ooo, ooo honey,” doesn’t run trippingly off the tongue even if you are looking for that tasty lunchmeat. No, just a soft background perhaps of Dave Matthews Band’s Pig song.

Like I said, it sounded like a good idea when it popped into my head.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

If Only Restaurants Did Outpatient Surgery

Michael Leave a comment

Regular readers noted that there was nothing to read on Monday. Unfortunately, I spent Monday at the hospital and hadn’t had time to schedule a post for then. Nothing horrible, just a little procedure. The last time I wandered into a hospital it was five months before I wandered back home. Thus I can be a little skittish about returning there.

While I was waiting there my mind wandered. It almost always does. I got to thinking about a post we did more than three years ago, “If Only the ER Served Margaritas,” a tale of an adventure we had at a local restaurant comparing the level of activity to that of the local emergency room. While I was thinking of that, I started noticing how much the hospital resembles one’s regular eatery. Stay with me here.

You know how at a restaurant or tavern where you might be a regular there will always be a place for you. And when you get that place you will always be handed your menus, served your usuals, or surprised with an appetizer. Well, when I got to the hospital I was greeted by name by the surgery gatekeeper, bypassed the waiting room, and led directly to the first prep room inside the pre-op area. There my doctor was already waiting for me and went over the procedure like I had never had it done before.

Back at dinner where they know you, all of the wait staff will drop by, say hello, and give you their opinion of the best entrée of the evening. Your waitperson knows if you want ice or not in your water, will make certain that you haven’t changed your favorite beverage, and knows just how long you’ll chat over the starter before bringing your main courses. Back at the hospital where they know you, the phlebotomist knows what vein to use when you’re normally a “hard stick” for anybody else, the pre-op nurse just has to fill in anything new to your history, and the anesthesiologist knows exactly how much is enough. Those not directly involved in your care that day will still stop, say hello, and see how you’re doing as they walk by your area.

After the main course at the restaurant you don’t even get a dessert menu, those taking care of you will tell you the best available and all you have to decide is one portion or two. After the main event at the hospital you wake up to a can of ginger ale and some saltines without ever having to ask.

Ok, so it’s not as much fun as dinner and a margarita but coming off a five month hospital tour I had to make it some fun!

Now, that’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?
(Read the original, it’s a lot better if I say so myself.)

Drive-In Theaters and the Batteries That Died There

Michael Leave a comment

I was reading the movie listings in the paper and noticed that drive-ins are making a comeback. At least here they are. Sort of. A quick check of the papers and Internet reveals there are about a dozen drive-in theaters within 20 miles of where I live. When I was a just a kid, there were 40 within 10 miles, but that was a different time.

Drive-ins were, still are, an experience. IMAX theaters notwithstanding, drive-in screens are huge! They have to be to be seen from the last row. Drive-in concession stands are cool! Oh sure, you can get burgers and pizza at some of the bigger indoor theaters now but for years, the only real food at the movies was at the concrete bomb shelter that doubled as the drive-in concession stand. And you still only find the more carnival like snacks like cotton candy, snow cones, and funnel cakes at the outdoor theaters.  Drive-ins are anything but boring! You can talk, text, chomp, snuggle, kiss, sing along with the soundtrack, and play “what movie did we see her in last year?” all that you want to without antagonizing those sitting behind you.

As much as it sounds like I have a real vested interest in them, I never went to many drive-ins.  Even though I grew up within a mile of two theaters, we weren’t big drive-in people. I could have walked to them but that would be a whole different post. By the time I was old enough to drive to them, drive-ins were starting on their decline. Indoor theaters were by and large still single screens and got all of the first run movies. The outdoor venues were home to last year’s big, and not so big, hits. In efforts to make them seem more “hi tech” (for those days), sound was piped over a radio frequency replacing the old speaker boxes that you hung on your window. That meant leaving your car in the “accessory” mode risking a dead battery, particularly in the kind of cars we were apt to be driving. If you were in the back row where nobody behind you would be poisoned by your exhaust fumes, you could leave your car running but then risk running out of gas before the double feature ended. Girls never believed you didn’t plan in that way.

Today some of those old relics of outdoor fun are being refurbished and re-opened. They will never approach their peak of the late fifties when over 4,000 drive-in theaters played to families across the USA.  Now there are just over 400 theaters with 600-some screens showing movies in America.

The only problem I see with drive-ins is that they don’t start the movie until dusk. In the summer months, that’s past my bedtime!

Now, that’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Swing Your Partner

Michael 1 Comment

Did you ever run across something that is just so bizarre you can’t stop watching?  Then you are ready to experience the world of tractor square dancing.  Go ahead and re-read that sentence all you want.  It really does end with “tractor square dancing.”

I don’t know when I first ran across this spectacle (there really is no other word for it).  I think it might have been some 10 years ago when my mother was sick and I would spend afternoons with her so she wouldn’t be alone.  It was this time of year and our state was holding its annual farm show which was televised on the statewide cable network.  Yes, I know this is January.  Yes, I said farm show.  No I don’t live in the southern hemisphere.  Yes, this is getting sillier by the paragraph.  Anyway, on television back then, in the middle of the afternoon, there were soap operas, Jerry Springer shows, or silly cable programs.  Neither my mother nor I were farm people, animal people other than the occasional house pet, prize winning produce people, and certainly not tractor people.  Yet between choosing among soaps, Springer, or Farmville, tractor square dancing caught our attention.

There was a couple year period when I thought I might have successfully detoxed from the phenomenon.  Again, it was about this time of year and I was on the phone with She.  Our televisions were on and the inevitable “What are you watching?” was asked.  “The farm show.”  “Haven’t seen that for a while.  What’s on?” “Tractor square dancing!”  Another victim — err, fan.

That was when I gave up and made it a point that every January I would click my way around the TV remote until I landed on the Tractor Square Dance event.  Four “couples” of antique tractors in a dirt arena, do-si-do-ing and allemande-ing under the direction of a dance caller just like a regular square dance but this one powered by John Deere and diesel.

I see you don’t believe me.  Go to your favorite search engine and type in “Tractor square dance.”  Among the 300,000 or so returns you will find plenty of clubs dong it all across the country.  And videos!  Watch the videos!  But don’t blame me if you get addicted.

Although not even a regular (?) square dance person, tractor square dancing is so out of the ordinary that I considered it (albeit briefly) for inclusion on the bucket list.  Apparently there is a group not that far from me that is always looking for new drivers.  No experience necessary.  In fact, no tractor necessary either.  They keep their own stable of antique tricycle configured contraptions.  I’m pretty good with a riding lawn mower.  How hard could it be?

Now, that’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

On Rode the 300

Michael Leave a comment

It’s milestone day!  Or should that be Milestone Day?  Subtle differences make differences.  Anyway…

It’s a milestone day – this is Post #300!  That means the next one starts counting all over again.  And it will, but the first 300 still hang out.  It’s also the start of a new year (or New Year if you prefer).  That means there should be some changes.  And there are but the old stays just as dear as always.

Like we did with the first and second hundred there are some favorites to call out.  It held to the original concept of the first post – this is real reality, not what some housewife, fisherman, storage locker junkie, dancer, prancer, or gator-bait would have you believe is.  What gets posted here really happened – unscripted, unplanned, sometimes unwanted, but always real.  Scary.

What were some of the best of the really real?  Well, best is in the eye of the beholder – or reader – not unlike an ugly Christmas sweater in one of the more recent and memorable posts “Being Beholden” (Dec. 11, 2014).  Another favorite on this side of the keyboard was “Good Things, Small Spaces” (Oct. 6, 2014), the real life adventures of a visit to a public restroom where everything was automatic and proved it!

Rarely was a post controversial other than if it actually fit in the selected category.  One that bucked that trend was “You Thought That Was Politically Incorrect” (Aug. 11, 2014) which was written after He completed several real surveys, each with remarkably different multiple choice answers to the same question – what race are you?  Seemed that someone said that shouldn’t be important yet it keeps getting asked.  Discrimination that made a difference was the subject of “Hair Today, Gone Yesterday” (Aug. 4, 2014), the true tale of a man getting a haircut in the twenty-first century.

There were lots of posts about spending money and buying stuff.  One of the more obtuse offerings was “What I Did on My Summer Vacation” (July 21, 2014).  The title notwithstanding it was about sales, Back to School sales specifically and a search for a new toaster.  Real, not necessary rational.   Shopping took a nasty turn at “Handicap Hate Crime” (June 19, 2014) another true story (they all are), this one of how one grocery store almost crippled the recovering He trying to negotiate his way to the handicapped parking slots.  Technology is not always wonderful.

With all this shopping there has to be somebody doing the selling.  Posts abounded about salespeople and clerks, with an emphasis on the occupant of the drive-thru window.  “If You Give a Teen a Penny” (April 7, 2014) detailed what was the first day behind the cash register for a high schooler whose parents you know told her to get a job.  Unfortunately, they didn’t tell her how to make change.

Fashion is always abuzz (not to be confused with a buzz).  The first post for this 100 posts hitting the fashion world was “Winter Rules” (Feb. 17, 2014).  It included the first two rules of winter fashion.  I’ll add Rule #3 here – It may be a new winter but use the old rules.

Almost a year ago we posted the recap of the second hundred posts with “Marching Onto the Third Hundred” (Jan. 2, 2014).  There we said “If we were going to pick a “best of” list we wouldn’t be able.  Yes, we liked them all but more than that, we liked what they all said about us.   What gets said in the third hundred might be completely different. But it will still say this is who we are and what we do.”

Well the third hundred has been different.  You might have noticed more of the posts were what He did rather than what We did.  She is still there in posts and in thoughts but sometime over the year the blog became more his chronicles.  And they will continue every Monday and Thursday as planned.  Or at least as anticipated.  About the only differences you might notice are more “I” and “me” than “he” and “we.”

And so the Real Reality Show Blog marches onto the four hundred however funny, thoughtful, observant, or a little off-kilter.   That’s the thing about blogs.  They are what you make of them.  And whether there are readers or not, there will always be writers.  And happy new year, too.

Now, that’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Movie Along – or – There’s Nothing to See Here

Michael Leave a comment

Thanksgiving just isn’t the same holiday as it used to be.  Used to be just sitting around eating with friends and family.  Used to be the day one would rest up for the assault on the Christmas sales the upcoming weekend.  Used to be parades and football.  And it used to be the evening when all the Christmas movies and specials would hit the airways and America would fall asleep in front of “It’s a Wonderful Life” having just experienced part of one.  It’s time for another tradition to bite the dust.

Where did all the Christmas movies go?  It didn’t take a very long look at the TV listings for last Thursday to see an absence of any cinematic welcome to the Yule season. Oh, there were movies.  “Jurassic Park,” “Maverick,” “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang,” “Eight Men Out,” and “Tora! Tora! Tora!,” all good movies but not a Christmas Tree among them, were featured by the broadcast and basic cable stations.  No “Miracle on 34th Street,” no “Christmas Vacation,” not even a “Fred Claus” was beamed into living rooms on Thanksgiving.  There must have been too many shoppers out looking for Thursday Night Pre-Black Friday Specials for the networks to take a chance on making the Christmas movie season opener special.

Certainly sometime in the next 25 days we will see all of the “Home Alone” offerings, a “White Christmas,” and several versions of a “Christmas Carol.” If one makes an effort to see them one will see them.  Otherwise there will be snippets gleaned while cookies are baked, presents are bought, packages are wrapped, and cards are signed.

Maybe that’s the tradition.  Not so much the movies but the memories of them while the hustle and bustle of the season grabs the biggest part of our attention.  We’re living in a time when time is more valuable than most of what we do with it.  And Christmas is the time when time is at its dearest.  There is more of everything in this last month of the year.  It might be the only time that our houses look different with seasonal decorations.  We spend most of our disposable income right now.  More of us go to more churches and services than any other time of the year.  We plan, attend, and even avoid some of the only parties of the year right now.  We even know we have to bake cookies but we aren’t sure why.

Whether it’s with the memories, the movies, or the cookies, Thanksgiving still starts the Christmas season.  Make of it what you will.  It’s your time.  Even if you choose to spend it watching “The Poseidon Adventure” and swear it really is a Christmas movie.  There’s even a tree in it.

Now that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you.

(To see some of our favorite Christmas movies, go to “And the Winner is…” from December 24, 2011.)