Who wlll be damaged tomorrow?

It's New Year's Eve at midnight and I am aware of how much I detest fireworks. All over Miami, birds are dying, dogs are panicking, cats are in fear and all kinds of other animals are absolutely terrified so that people can look up in the sky and oooh and aaah at expensive displays of the same pyrotechnics they've seen every year. But the loud and frightful sounds aren't all fireworks. In this backward city, they are also guns being fired into the air by pseudo-macho morons (who equate bullets with balls) and often falling to earth  to injure of kill anyone stupid enough to be outside during this madness. Why noises that sound like bombs exploding are so appealing to so many is beyond me. It seems like New Year's is just an excuse for vandals to wander the street ghoulishly amused as destroying property, injuring people, and, what I consider the worst of the fireworks crimes, frightening animals. Though it will offend many, I feel about fireworks the same way I feel about toreadors being gored during a bullfight. I am absolutely delighted when I hear that the costly pyrotechnics display exploded prematurely causing all sorts of physical damage and depriving gathered audience the joy of gaping in awe,  or that some idiotic teen lost his finger for holding on to a firecracker too long.

Early reports (pardon the pun):
In Los Angeles, 28 victims ranging from 8 to 78-years-old were injured - four of them seriously - when a wooden stand collapsed sending live fireworks exploding into a crowd of up to 10,000 people.Thousands of others fled for cover at the Simi Valley park celebration when streams of red and white smoke and flames shot across the ground towards the crowd around two minutes into a display. Oooh. Aaaah. Ouch. 

Discovery.

I consider myself pretty much an expert on films before 1960. (All right, not an expert, but I know tons more than most people.) But there is a very large gap in my film education which I only began to fill last night. While I have heard the name Deanna Durbin all my life, I was not familiar with this actress and lyric soprano and not aware of having seen any one of her movies until last night. The film was 1941's It Started With Eve. While the title is totally illogical, the film was funny, charming and innovative. I won't tell you the plot, but try to see it. The revelation to me was how beautiful, talented and endearing Deanna was. I could see why, at one point, she was considered the highest paid woman in the United States. And why she was a leading box office star for so many years, who was credited for saving Universal Studios from bankruptcy.  Obviously fame didn't go to her head since she retired in 1949.  A year later, she married film producer-director Charles Henri David and they moved to a farmhouse near Paris where, I am guessing, she lived a fulfilling life. Deanna Durbin David died this April at the age of 91.

Thanks but no thanks.

In the media, there are many well-meaning straight celebrities who defend the so-called gay community, (which is no more a community than any other group). But they don't realize that often in their defense they reinforce stereotypes, Most guilty of this are humorists who don't seem to be able to think in any other way. For instance in his book The New New Rules. Bill Maher's essay "Heaven Can Wait" vilifies (and rightly so) Jerry Falwell and rejoices (and rightly so) in the death of this hate-mongering homophobic hypocrite.  However, among his tongue-in-cheek advice to homosexual men is to make "gayness a religion" suggesting, "you're kneeling anyway" which is a vulgar and cheap shot. But worse he closes by saying that he hopes that when Falwell approaches the pearly gates, he is met by "God Himself, wearing a Fire Island muscle shirt and nut-hugger shorts and saying to Jerry in a mighty lisp,'I'm not talking to you'". Thus in a supposedly pro-gay essay, he has used nothing but negative stereotypes, portraying gay men as having constant fellatio, wearing exhibitionist clothing, being only concerned with their bodies, having a lisp, and being petty little "queens" with attitude. Thanks a lot, Bill, but a nation of gay mechanics, cops, firemen, lawyers, servicemen, construction workers, and every other conceivable job description is probably a whole lot better off without your support. Still think you're brilliant, but in this area you're somewhat backward.

And it improves your eyesight.

Does anybody believe for a single moment that ACT rebuilds tooth enamel? This is probably the most absurd, "Give me a break" commercial I can think of. Advertisers must be thrilled that there don'y seem to be any Truth in Advertising watchdogs any more. Or if there are, they are all muzzled.

Yeah, that's gonna happen.

The news reports that Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas) is now taking steps to officially renounce his Canadian citizenship.If it has anything to do with running for president, I wouldn't bother. Does this maw-mouthed cretin really believe for a moment that the American public by a majority vote would ever make him our president? If so, that's no more insane than many of the other ideas he has stated over the past few years. This guy is insincere, sour, bitter, deceitful, paranoid, egomaniacal and full of you know what. In short everything that makes a good Republican, but nothing that makes a good president. 

Why do so many people have trouble with "lay" and "lie"? It's not that difficult. Law enforcement people seem have particularly difficulties. On almost every true crime show I watch, and I watch a
lot, the detective or police officer will always say, "the body was laying there." Of course a lot of these  cops and detectives also say, "He should have went" or "If I would have known." I guess we can't expect them to capture criminals and the nuances of the English language.

Success?

The wonderful thing about America is sometimes the most worthless people can become rich and famous. Like the family of Honey Boo Boo. Here we have an attention-starved mother who drags her equally narcissistic child onto a reality tv series called Toddlers and Tiaras. And soon, voila, they have a reality tv show called Here Comes Honey Boo Boo which highlights the stunningly unattractive Thompson family of McIntyre, Georgia, in all their commonness and vulgarity. But they don't care. After all they're now rich and famous and known all over the country, at least by persons who for whatever voyeuristic reasons watch this program. This uberstage mother has everything she wanted: success, fame, the chance to be somebody. What this mother doesn't appreciate is that it will all end. Yes, they will have the money, but she will probably also have an overweight, unattractive and insecure Honey Boo Boo as a adult, who will realize that her mother put her in the public eye where she was a success not because she was pretty but because she was ridiculous.

Sharing the unearned wealth.

Thanks to the Republicans a federal program that provided extended unemployment benefits to 1.3 million Americans who lost their jobs during the recession expires today. This is another sadistic act by the GOP who insist that these jobless persons are parasites, living the high life on the pittance they receive to keep their lives together. And who are these Republicans? They are the freeloaders who rake in huge salaries for working about 25 hours a week and accomplishing very little. I realize that these people are heartless shits, but I often wonder about their families. When they come home early after another sweat-free day, or arrive in the luxury family car eager for their fifth family vacation of the year, do their wives(or husbands) and children ever look at them and think, "You bastard. You just made the lives of millions of good people intolerable because you have no compassion or empathy." Or do these family members just greedily lap up all the money and perks just like their callous government-paid parent or spouse?

Memories of D.C,

On a recent visit to Washington, D.C. I was struck by how attractive, comfortable, and dependable their circulator busses were. Living in Miami, our busses lack all three of those virtues. Especially now that they have replaced on many routes our ordinary busses with rickety, slow, wooden-seated trolleys. But then Miami, to my mind is a very backward city when it comes to transportation. For instance almost all of our bus benches are without shelters, despite the fact that our city is either blazing hot or being deluged with buckets of tropical rain. So, on most days you have a choice of getting soaked or skin cancer. Also, unlike most other cities, the bus will not stop for you unless you signal it to do so. Many tourists not knowing this are left standing as the bus or trolley leaves them standing there. One of the more annoying aspects of the busses when we had them was that you could not see out the window at night. To determine your stop, you practically had to press your face against the glass and even that wasn't enough. Today I took one of the trolleys to the market, at least I thought that's what I was doing since the previous busses stopped there. But the transportation department, in their infinite wisdom, has made the closest stop to the market a side street from which you have to walk half a block then cross one of the busiest, most dangerous streets in Miami.

I note that spell check has faulted me five times for spelling busses with two esses, which is a perfectly correct spelling of the word, and one I prefer otherwise, to my mind, it would read bewsis. 

Larry, the unstable cable guy.

While I don't find Larry the Cable Guy even mildly amusing, it didn't bother me to see him as the spokesperson for Prilosec, which I don't use anyway. But now that I have seen him on news shows vilifying our president, I find it disgraceful that this pharmaceutical company, which I am told is Procter and Gamble,  would use as its barker someone whom I regard as a traitor as is anyone who creates malicious lies and false accusations to bring down the President of the United States. This man is obviously as backwoods ignorant as the character he's created.

Quick, get me a barf bag.

I have no idea what Duck Dynasty is about. Obviously from the news reports I know that this idiot Phil Robertson is yet another bible-spouting bigot. And I'm sorry to hear that A&E thinks profits are more important that values. But all that aside, I cannot imagine why so many people are willing to watch a show featuring a family of men with such sickeningly repulsive beards. If I had to sit across a dining table from any one of these men, I wouldn't be able to eat. The experience of seeing those unkempt shaggy beards which harbor god knows what uneaten food and dried liquids would be vomitous. I hated even putting this photo on my blog because it required looking at it. Yuck.

Maybe no one will notice.

We all know that Olympic gold medalists stand to reap a fortune in endorsement. And if you're beautiful like Alex Morgan of the U.S, Women's National Soccer Team, even better.  Except I find it rather amusing that right now she is a spokesperson for ChapStick, which she pronounces Chopstick. I'm sure this celebrated beauty has a career in tv or movies ahead of her, that is providing she finds herself the right diction coach.

The Nothington Post

The Huffington Post, which used to be one of the most interesting sites on the web and an arena for some pretty hot debates has suddenly become the Internets wimpiest hangouts. First they dropped the "comments" box for some dopey thing called. "Start a conversation" which was beyond boring. Now they have added this pathetic disclaimer to assure their readers they no longer can enjoy either anonymity nor freedom of speech. I personally have contributed almost 10,000 comments to HuffPost, and find this new rule completely offputting.

To promote more civil discussion and accountability in the Huffington Post community, beginning today, all of those who wish to make a comment will be asked to verify their HuffPost account. For further info and access to the verification process, click to continue.
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...and a happy New Year!

I love Christmas. I love everything about it. Especially in cold-weather cities like Boston, New York, and Baltimore.  I even like all the religious symbols: the Magi, the manger, the Virgin Mary, the angels, the shepherds. Although, being an atheist, all these lovely and reverent Christian symbols are no more meaningful or real to me that Frosty or  Rudolph. But I like them just as much. So when I hear people complain about the commercialism of Christmas, I think they're pains in the ass. If the greedy businessman wants to make a bundle and is willing to spend a fortune on over-the-top decorations, fabulous store windows, and lavishly lighted holiday displays,  fine. And I am just as annoyed at anyone whining about the creche in front of City Hall. If Christians want to add their religious symbols to the holiday spirit, that's okay with me. There will always be nutcases like Bill O'Reilly who insist there's a war against Christmas. He has to fill his pathetic hour somehow. But there's no war. There's only an exciting gift-giving, good-natured season for everyone, especially children who couldn't care less about the meaning of Christmas. All they care about are the lights and the toys and Santa Claus.
Christmas. What's not to like?

Brief encounteers.

One of the worst things about travelling is the persons you meet. Not the nasty people, who are temporary annoyances and easily forgotten. But the nice people. Those charming or thoughtful strangers that you encounter for a few minutes or several hours, whom you will never meet again. But you feel certain that given a chance they could become lasting and valued friends. But they live so far away and there's really not way to secure a bond. So you enjoy what little time you have with them and then they are gone forever. During my recent vacation, I met several such people. The TV journalist (who was carrying ice skates) with whom I chatted at Union Station in Washington, D.C. The pretty young student in Boston who missed several of her subway trains in order to help me figure out how to purchase a Charlie Card. The writer and movie reviewer who sat next to me at a B.U. production of Pacific Overtures. The cheerful young woman on the JetBlue flight who looked years younger than she was and lessened my fear of flying. All nice, intelligent people. But every now and then you are lucky. When I was twenty-one, fifty years ago, I met a young lady on the S.S. America on my return to New York from my first trip to  Europe. We've been friends ever since. And one is unlucky. I still miss the family of four with whom I shared a train compartment in Switzerland during that same long-ago trip.

Stop!

In relation to the following post, it is obscene how much food Americans waste while millions go hungry. During my two week visit to Boston, I generally went to the food court at the Prudential rather than costly restaurants. It was really disturbing to see the amount of unfinished food on persons' trays that went into the trash bins, while just outside were homeless and hungry persons in need of nourishment, even if it was leftovers. Surely there must be a way to replace those trash bins with some kind of out-of-view service in which volunteers can remove the unused portions of food and create packaged meals for the hungry. Yes, I know there are so-called soup kitchens, but these days even they can't deal with the amount of poverty that plagues our society.

A inexpensive service.

On December 17, 2013, I did something that I may want credit for later. I revealed one of my best ideas to a stranger. At least I think it's a good idea. The stranger was a young man named Robert who was begging for money outside of Dunkin Donuts on Huntington Avenue in Boston. It was a very cold morning at about 7:30, so he had got an early start. He had a crude cardboard sign expressing his dire situation and was holding a plastic cup that didn't seem all that filled with cash. I gave him two dollars and the following advice, "People are not always willing to just give money to somebody standing there. You should provide a service. I suggest you get a sign that reads, 'Compliments $1.00." He seemed interested, so I added, "Everybody has something you can compliment. A woman gives you a dollar and you tell her she has pretty eyes." to which he immediately said, "Or I like your shoes, or your coat, or your smile." At this point, I could see he got the message. Now unless Boston bureaucrats arrest him for selling a product without a license, he should do fine.

A stop in Jacksonville.

Being fearful of flying, I have often taken the train from Miami to Washington D.C., Baltimore, or Boston. (Though having discovered Jet Blue, I am less afraid). Anyway on my most recent train
trip the roomette (which was insanely expensive) was even more noisy than one normally expects. The small compartment squeaked and rattled so loudly, it was difficult to read. I knew I couldn't switch accommodations because the train was completely booked since it was near to Christmas. When we made a stop in Jacksonville, I got off the train to stretch my legs which meant joining all the persons who were clouding their lungs. One smoker in particular seemed pleasant enough. When I asked her if her compartment was particularly noisy, she responded in a manner I detest. Instead of answering the question I asked, she gave me an incredulous look and said, as if talking to a child, "It's a train" While I wanted to punch her in the face, I patiently explained that I was familiar with trains and found this one especially noisy. She indicated that she did not find this the case and, like so many people I meet, launched into a self-centered monologue about herself, never asking a single question about me. She seemed particularly interested in relating the story of her last train trip in which union problems and other delays caused a number of inconveniences. She closed her boring story with the words, "Anyway, we were three hours getting into New York." My reply to her, just before reboarding the train was, "Well, what did you expect. After all, it's a train."

Note: No, this is not the actual woman, but close enough.

Not so Noble.

While Barnes and Noble has never been an economy-priced bookstore, I was disappointed recently to catch them in a scam. It happened in the audio-video department of their Prudential Mall store in Boston (shown above).  Near the entrance of the department they had a display of DVDs at supposedly major discounts. Since many of them were British series, I was intrigued. I was particularly interested in purchasing their Midsomer Murders series, which I had seen in the regularly priced display for $39.99 for each collection of four episodes. So naturally I was surprised to see a four-episode DVD in the sale section with a "50%-off" label listing the regular price as $54.99. Obviously a faked price designed to give them a bigger profit from someone believing they were getting it for half price. When I complained at Customer Service, I got no response. Oh, well, does it really matter? I hear this chain is likely to be out of business by the end of 2014.

Tangled and untied.

How is it possible for earbud wires to  become complete entangled when you only put them away in an untangled condition five minutes ago? I mean they're not living things that can writhe and twist and entwine. Also, how is it possible for shoelaces to continually untie themselves, especially when you have knotted them tightly three times to prevent such an annoyance? And why do they untie themselves more often in bitter cold weather when it is much harder to retie them because you have to remove your gloves, and the heavy coat you're wearing makes it much harder to bend over?

Lovely, but a loser.

If I had to choose the most frequent cliche in advertising, this would be it. This pose and the ten thousand versions of it. During my forty-five years in advertising I have seen this visual used endlessly by hundreds of unimaginative art directors, many by art directors I worked with.. We get it. A beautiful young woman sitting on the beach with her legs spread. A typical male fantasy, but an advertising yawn. It's been used by resorts, suntan lotion, and countless products for which it doesn't even apply. My second most common cliche? Any commercial that uses the line: "Not alll (fill in the blank) are created equal."

Gag me with a spoon.

I know this Christmas spot for the Ford Fusion is supposed to be adorable. Am I a Grinch to find it obnoxious? We have a pretty young girl of about twelve sitting on Santa's lap. Though she is not old enough to drive, she indicates what she wants is a Ford Fusion. When asked what color she wants, she advises him that she will send him some swatches, and finally insults him by suggesting he consider a makeover.. So basically we are supposed to find this spoiled little bitch charming. Another example of a commercial that uses a thoroughly unlikeable person to pitch their product.

He looks good with short hair.

I was about seven when I saw my first erotic picture. It was a reproduction of a painting of the blind Samson pushing the grinding wheel of a grist mill. The painting depicted the near-naked Samson from behind showing off his powerful legs and magnificent naked buttocks. Being a child I didn’t have a clear understanding of sex, but I knew I found this picture very exciting. The irony is that it was one of the illustrations in the bible given to me by the Ruggles Street Baptist Church in Boston. I can't say this photo had anything to do with my becoming gay as I recall I already had a major crush on my Sunday School teacher, Mr. Crook. The minister at the time,  whose name I won’t mention, was a handsome man with a highly popular radio show. To all he was a model of Christian virtue, an upstanding example of god-fearing morality. Later when I was 22 (ten years after embracing atheism) I moved into a 25th floor apartment of a high-rise on Huntington Avenue. I personally was not shocked to see that this admired minister had an apartment on the same floor where he lived in erotic hypocrisy with this male lover, and where they both seemed to entertain quite a surprising number of nighttime male guests.  

Leap of faith

While I'm sure the Boston Ballet has hundreds of photos to promote its 2013 Nutckacker production, I can't imagine why they chose this one, in which the ballerina appears to have one leg. Now I am sure in their conciet, they believed that anyone seeing the photo would assume that this dancer is so perfectly aligned that her legs are complete together. But since one cannot see a hint of another thigh, another ankle or another foot, one can only imagine that this dancer has only one leg. You would think someone at the company could comment before they used this shot as this year's major publicity picture. Of course it could be a P.T. Barnum type promotion, "Come see the one-legged ballerina!" But I rather doubt that. It's just more proof that even the experts make huge errors in judgement.

When I was younger, decades ago, and lived in Boston when you ordered toast in a restaurant what you got was, well, toast. You could tell because it was somewhat drier than the bread from which is was made, it was hot, and the biggest clue was it was dark from having spent time in a toaster. Well it appears those days are over, especially in Miami. Today when you order toast in a restaurant, what you receive is bread that appears to have been scanned by an electric hair dryer. I find this true everywhere I go. When I order a bagel at Starbucks, I have to tell them to toast it three times. That is the only way I get something resembling toast. Of course when I was younger, when you ordered butter what you got was, well, butter.

Note: In case any restaurateur (hate that word) is reading, this is what toast is suppposed to look like. 

L'amour, L'amour

During my recent winter vacation in Boston, I fell in love at Dunkin Donuts. It came as a huge surprise to me and, of course, nothing came of it. Nothing could since she belonged to another.  It was a bitter cold day and I was sitting in the window of the Dunkin Donuts behind Copley Square. The crowd were the usual business people: workmen, secretaries, businessmen in expensive winter coats, and a woman so wrapped up you couldn't see what she looked like. She had a dog on a leash, a older golden retriever. Since it was obviously not a service dog, I wondered if they would ask her to leave, or if they allowed dogs in Boston restaurants like Dunkin Donuts. While the woman remained bundled, the dog had thick enough fur to deal with the cold. Anyway she got into line, which was long,  and inched her way along with all the other customers. I was watching her dog obediently trot beside her when she, the dog, looked my way. Our eyes locked and, gazing into her large brown soulful eyes I felt an immediate affection and tenderness to this animal. You knew that this was a kind and superior creature and must be a great companion to the woman, As they moved along the line the dog, kept looking over toward me. I just knew she felt the same connection I did. Lately I have been debating getting another dog and I am sure if this one needed a home, I would probably start booking her flight to Miami. How did I know she was a she. Because at one point the woman said,, "Sit Annabelle" and Annabelle sat, still looking my way The woman filled her order, readjusted her scarf, hat and gloves and headed toward the exit, Just before she left,, Annabelle looked my way one more time and they were gone. I think love at first sight , while a romantic notion, is very rare with people. Buy I think it happens all the time with animals.

Note: No, this is not Annabelle. I don't take pictures and never have. Something I rarely regret. This being one of those rarities.

Winter vacation.

Since I am completely computer illiterate and don't own any device that allows me to post when I'm away, there will be no cranking or praising for two weeks. I hope this doesn't cause all those persons who never comment to abandon me as I do know you're there and appreciate it. Watch for a barrage of complaints at the end of December. My staff of a thousand will still be here of course, but they're just not as cranky as I am.

Father and son?

I

Losing it big time.

Poor Rush Limbaugh. All those years on the radio and he still can't speak English correctly. Today he was so upset about Obama shaking Castro's brother's hand that he stated that Democrats we're "literally having orgasms". Since I doubt very much if one or more Democrats was ejaculating over the handshake, I can only assume that Limbaugh doesn't know the definition of the word "literal". Of course it's also possible that he does and his mind is so clouded by the many drugs he takes, he is losing all reason. One must admit that his irrational and petulant hatred of Obama has taken on obsession proportions and he is behaving more like a rejected girlfriend than a talk show host.

Think about it.

I don't understand how anyone who truly loves movies has a television. For under $500, plus the cost of a ceiling mount you can have projection TV. (And I don't mean one of those all-in-the-same-unit deals; that's still a television.) All you need is a projector, a blank wall, and at least 8 feet of distance and voila! you have a movie theatre. And trust me watching a 7 X 4 foot  projection, especially in Cinemascope, beats even the largest screen TV because it feels more like a movie. After all, every movie you ever went to was projected. I've been watching movies this way for more than six years now, first with an InFocus projector, and most recently with an Epson. I could never go back to a regular TV no matter how large or thin it was, except, of course, for non-movie broadcasts.  Suit yourself. I think projection TV is fantastic and I'll bet that if you ever try it, you'll never go back to that glass-faced box.

Annoying uber-Republican females are not always adult. Thanks to the always brilliant and hilarious Rude Pundit, I learned about Madison Root, an 11-year-old phony and liar. Seem this little mini-harridan had access to some free mistletoe (repeat, free) which she wanted to sell at the Portland, Oregon,  market. When she was told she needed a license to sell there, she created a lie that the guard told her she should ask for donations. Now, prompted by her opportunistic father, she has joined the Rand Paul cretins, complaining that America is become a nation of people who want handouts instead of hard work. And while she's full of self-satisfied pride, she's raking in the money from equally moronic Republicans who don't seem to recognize that this child has put no work into raising the mistletoe and very little into selling it since she is being helped by all those naysayers who love degrading the American worker. So basically she is a charity case whether she wants to admit it or not. So she's completely less admirable than the people she attacks who go out to work every day because they don't have a pushy, aggressive father who recognizes a Republican racket when he sees it. There doesn't seem to be any photo of this brat on the Internet, so I've included what I imagine her to look like.

No more roles for Shannon

The top photo is Texas actress Shannon Guess Richardson, the murderous moron who sent ricin-laced letters to President Obama and New York Mayor Mike Bloomberg. Having just entered her guilty plea in Texarkana, Texas, she will soon be serving a prison sentence of 18 years. Like most Obama haters, especially those in Texas, she is a complete idiot. Bad enough that she is so evil she would try to murder two people, but she is also so stupid that she thinks the President and Mayor Bloomberg open their own mail. Duh. Besides being evil and stupid, she is so creepy that she even tried to frame her now-estranged husband for the crime. Needless to say she was never an actress of any note and had minor roles in shows like The Walking Dead. Too bad she's in lockup for so long. She might have been able to audition to play another amoral redhead, Rebekah Brooks, the former editor of the British tabloid News of the World, also destined for a jail sentence for her phone-hacking crimes. Nah, Shannon is as bad an actress as she is a human being.

While someone on the Internet faulted this commercial for making the black man smart and the white man dumb, I don't see it that way at all. I do see this as a dumb commercial all around. I can't imagine why they had this doofus acting like such an idiot, especially at the end when he is on the phone like a teenage girl, or at least the cliche pose of the teenage girl. I guess the use of the color orange is supposed to serve some kind of subliminal purpose. It doesn't. This whole commercial-except for the black man-reeks of idiocy. Shame on this agency and its creative team.

"Let them eat cake."

Republicans have completely lost touch with reality. No more is this more obvious than with Rand Paul's pronouncement this week that extending unemployment benefits is a disservice to jobless individuals. Having so little faith in the American people, he assumes that given these benefits, the out- of-work person will not seek employment. What a sad cynic he is.  Having no faith in people as he does, he would just as soon cut off any financial support that would help those seeking employment to pay their rent, feed their families, and retain some kind of dignity while they search for that elusive job.
No, he would rather put them in desperate straits. Leave them without any income and any chance of employment. Like Limbaugh, Ryan, Romney and all these other wealthy Republican silver spooners, they cannot identify with the working class and only wish to see those who are struggling struggle even more. What repulsive snobs infest the GOP.

Follow up: Shortly after his remarks Doofus Rand Paul went to Detroit to woo black voters, whom the Republicans detest (along with Latinos and women)  but need to win elections. It seems his speech in the Motor City was reasonably well-attended, by predominantly white Republicans.

Tab hunter

The hell with progress. And who are these people who have a princess and pea reaction to the little tab of fabric stitched into the nape of a tee shirt?  I want the tab back. This printing the maker and size on the cloth does me no good. There are times when it's barely readable and I put the tee shirt on backwards and have to reverse it. This never happened with a tab.

Having seen the original Broadway production of The Sound of Music with Mary Martin and having seen the film during its first run at the Gary Theater in Boston, sitting in a balcony filled with nuns, I was inclined to not like the 3-hour NBC version. But that wasn't the case. Despite the more than 100 commercials, 10 to 12 at each break, the program held my interest. It is no easy task to compete with Julie Andrews and a zillion dollar production directed by Robert Wise, but I think last night's show has its own special charms. For one thing, it wasn't imitative. They stayed true to the original Broadway production, and even had the courage to include the song, "No Way To Stop It" with which almost no one is familiar. I do wish they had included "An Ordinary Couple" instead of reprising the movie's popular song, "I Must Have Done Something Good." But no big deal. The sets were handsome and never intrusive. The kids were all excellent and seemed enough like a real family to stop me from nitpicking. In fact,  everything went amazingly well for such a complex live performance. One forgot immediately the unlikelihood of a African American Mother Superior in Germany after being instantly charmed by Audra McDonald. Kudos (never know how to use that word) to everyone, especially the two leads who were excellent. Stephen Moyer obviously had more acting chops as well as a strong singing voice, but what Carrie Underwood lacked in thespian skill she more than made up in charm, beauty and superb singing. I've already seen some of the reviews which are petty and carping attacks on a production that was far, far better than one should have expected. I'm sorry to see so many critics demanding so much when we should be grateful that NBC even cared enough to do this live musical program. Since I can remember when Broadway musicals were frequently presented on television, I appreciated this production wholeheartedly and am glad I didn't hang with the naysayers as I had expected to do.

More Absolut nonsense.

On November 13, I wrote a post stating how idiotic I thought a poster was for Absolut vodka. Its headline was "Transform Today" which was about as meaningless a line as I ever read on a poster, unless, of course, it means, "Get drunk and act like a complete jerk." Anyway, this week I saw an even bigger poster with the same headline and visual. Since it took up an entire bus shelter, I could see more detail than I did before. This glowering guy for instance is supposed to be some kind of artist. But I noticed that most of his paint jars are left open and drying out which is very wasteful. Also, despite his love of Absolut, there is no glass nearby. Does this mean he guzzles his Absolut right from the bottle? Actually he does kinda look like he's leaning back in a drunken stupor. But, forget about him; the most  interesting item was the legend on this bottle. Since the photo was so large I could read the proud statement, which proclaimed, "Every drop of this vodka has been crafted only with Swedish winter wheat near the small town of Ahus and continues a determined commitment to the pursuit of perfection." I can't imagine how a drop of vodka can have a determined commitment to anything even if it is crafted from winter wheat, but that's what it says. Maybe the creative team drank to much of the client's product before they began this campaign.

So simple. So clever. So perfect. This is one of those rare commercials that you could watch again and again and never get bored. All three actors are great, but I especially appreciate the elf.

Drat! Inflated with their own achievement, FedEx attempted to use the same three characters to create a second commercial which, sadly, falls flat. Rule 861: Leave well enough alone.

Societal parasite infects brilliant newsman.

I am very disappointed to hear that Martin Bashir has resigned from MSNBC. This resignation obviously followed weeks of controversy over his comments about Sarah Palin.  So basically we are losing a brilliant commentator because he made an insulting, and deserved, remark about an insignificant Alaska birdbrain. Bashir, who has been a host on the network since 2011 suggested that someone should defecate and urinate in Sarah Palin's mouth. He has since apologized for these remarks. I can't imagine why, since they are completely deserved, although illogical since Palin's mouth is so full of shit there would not be any room for any more.events. And that's been true since we were unlucky enough to have her unleashed on us by that moron McCain. Since then the lazy news news media have been quick to grab hold of this headline-vomiting harpie, quote every insignificant thing she said, and credit her with every ghost-written speech and book since she could not write a grocery list. One hopes to hear on the news that she was accidentally shot in the head while cleaning her rifle, trampled by a moose, or savagely attacked by a pack of wolves. But sadly, I think we're stuck with this brainless toxic harridan for several more years until she loses her only asset: what little physical attractiveness she has left. In the meantime she will directly or indirectly causes us to lose valuable
newsman like Bashir.

Famous stars trapped in failed fantasy.

I'm guessing it's not easy to respond to my blog because almost nobody ever does, except one friend. Too bad because sometimes I would really like feedback. Especially with this post. Because if anyone reading this liked the new movie, Oz the Great and Powerful, I would love to know why. It doesn't give me any pleasure to be so critical. I love all the stars: James Franco, Michelle Williams, Rachel Weisz, etc. I love the color, the sets, and the special effects. Everything was good but the movie. Despite the tornado, the gorgeous color, the interesting sets, the story seemed empty and flat. But I am not writing this as a review of the film, but because, once again, I am perplexed. How is it possible to create a boring 130-minute film that  involves so many talents, costs so much money, has such a strong literary heritage, is related to one of the greatest films of all time, and features A-list stars?  Even the film's talented actors seemed to have no belief in the pedestrian script and overwrought story line.  Despite the success of Wicked, which I have never seen, I think The Wizard of Oz is best left alone. It is unlikely that anyone can improve on the beyond brilliant 1939 film, so why even try?

Separated at birth?

One of my favorite TV shows is Doc Martin. Most Americans are not familiar with this series that is now in its 5th season. Pity. Because it's funny, human, charming, and that word I normally hate, quirky. It features a gorgeous port town in Cornwall, England. And, like most British series is has a cast of superb actors, not all runway models as in American series. One of my favorites is Katherine Parkinson, whom I have seen in several series. In Doc Martin, she plays his rebellious and not always focused receptionist,  and she plays it brilliantly. Anyway, you might tune in when you see it on your local PBS station. I include this because I think she resembles another one of my favorite people: Debbie Wasserman Schultz.

      HELP WANTED

We, the American public, would like to replace our present slackers with persons who are willing to work more than 126 days a year. At present while these positions include many problems, we are hopeful that those problems, like their perpetrators, will soon be gone. For instance, among our Republicans personality, work ethic, honesty, fairness, loyalty and patriotisn are not job requirements. Other failings such as racism, bigotry, lying, religious obsession, adultery, hypocrisy, alcoholism on the job,  and constantly and maliciously criticizing the boss is presently not frowned upon. Salary range begins at 174,000. Among the many benefits (undeserved at the moment) are complete medical coverage, a generous pension plan, free parking, fully equipped gym, low-priced cafeteria, and private subway system. If you are honest and care about this country, we suggest you start campaigning now as we are pretty sure most of these do-nothing freeloaders whose lazy asses are filling these seats will soon be gone.

A country in hiding.

I still write letters. Letters of praise and letters of complaint.  I print them out. I address them, stamp them and drop them in the mailbox. But it is become increasingly harder to do this since so many companies and people seem to be afraid of having their whereabouts known. Look up any major company and you'll see how difficult it is to find their corporate address. Has everyone become paranoid? This may make them feel safer, but I think it poses problems. Celebrities, for instance, of any ilk are missing thousands of fan letters they might receive, since every piece of correspondence must go through their agent (whose address you also can't find).  I think this greatly diminishes their appreciation of how they are perceived by those they perceive to be their public. I have been trying for years to write to an actress on whom I based the main character of one of my plays. She is so impossible to locate, you would think she was in the witness protection program. I'm sure she can live without my compliments, still she might like to know she inspired something. Then there are the companies who will never know how millions, yes millions, of consumers feel about their products. Why? Because they have not given them a mailing address. And I truly believe that one pithy letter from a consumer can help a company make enormous changes. What I really love are the political and charitable organizations who will give you their e-mail address and form to fill out when they plead for your donations. But they will not give you a mailing address, assuming that every person in American is computer savvy. I'm certainly not. While I still write letters, I also still write checks. And no charity without a mailing address will ever receive a dime from me.

There is lot of them.

A  headline on HuffPost this morning was, "Here's all the countries beating the U.S. on  test scores." And, no, it wasn't meant to be humorous.

What a great guy!

I'm an atheist. Like Ron Reagan, I have been an atheist since age 12. I don't see myself ever thinking there's anything beyond this life, and certainly don't expect one of those dramatic deathbed conversions.  But as much as I detest religion, all religion, and the zillions of hypocrites who claim a religious affiliation they never live up to, I adore Pope Francis. Why? Because I think I like the great minority of religious people, especially Christians, he believes what he says and lives up to his beliefs. But even better, I love him because he is holding up a mirror to all the world's hypocrites, notably the Catholic Republicans like Ryan who don't do a damn thing for the poor and hungry and needy, but make their lives more difficult. So these frauds, like Ryan, will either have to start living a life of greater poverty and more charity, or face the truth that they are not Catholic, not Christians, not even decent people. Thank you Pope Francis for the gift of truth. This is going to be so much fun to watch.

Moron at large.

I personally think this is incredibly tasteless. This guy put up a poster of Scarlett Johnansson as a way of searching for his perfect girl. The incredibly sophomoric writer at HuffPost wrote, "...this is so brilliant, we kind of wish Scarlett Johansson would  called him up just for kicks..." Pardon me for being so negative, but I don't think using a means of communication that is generally employed to find lost or kidnapped girls and boys, often merely children is "brilliant." These are posters placed throughout communities by distraught parents and family members in hopes of finding someone who has been abducted, and often result in learning that the person you loved was murdered. So some jerk using this same system for the sole purpose of finding a hot girlfriend is pathetic. 

Only 3 and a half million? Shame!

"Turns out, Americans aren't really into watching Lady Gaga sing and dance with Muppets on Thanksgiving. Even with guest appearances from Sir Elton John, Kristen Bell, Ru Paul and Joseph Gordon-Levitt, the holiday special flopped big time in the ratings." idiotic HuffPost quote. 

I detest articles like this: rating a creative program by how popular it was with the masses. Who cares?  So the advertiser didn't get the market they wanted. Who cares?  So only 3.6 million people watched this show. I think 3.6 million people is quite a crowd, and I'm guessing they enjoyed this show which is why they tuned in. So I find despicable the the smug little ratings-counting reporters who seem to enjoy labeling anything that wasn't wildly commercial as a flop. It's a pity everything in this country is measured by how popular it was, and then only on that one occasion. This is why so many talented programs and excellent performers were consigned to the network trash bin without ever being given a chance to prove their popularity or value. This is also why people of superior taste don't often get to enjoy quality programming. Not when the networks have to go for the lowest common denominator to get the ratings for those corn flakes or beer.

Riding the rails.

Being afraid to fly, I often take the train. Though lately I have flown several times on Jet Blue well fortified with Atavin. As a train traveler, I enjoy the experience of having a roomette and the pleasure of seeing the passing scenery in private, usually having meals in the roomette rather than sharing a table with strangers in the dining car. Booking the train used to be easy. But Amtrak like everyone else has made improvements on the Internet, which means it is more complicated than ever to book a train and, it would seem, far more expensive. Where you once had a choice of 1 reserved coach seat, a roomette, or a room, now you have a choice of 1 reserved coach seat for one price, 1 reserved coach seat for more than $150 more without any explanation of why, and a roomette. If you want a room, you have to search for it on their complex new system and it will, more than likely, cost over $1,000 for about 26 hours use. Of course Amtrak says taking the train has very little to do with fear of flying. So it must be people are willing to pay much more for a train than a plane, though it takes nine times as long, is far more expensive, has some very sour employees, and almost no safety precautions. Unless I get over my fear of flying, I will continue to take the train, but I recognize that our rail system is one of the worst in the world and one of the costliest. I wonder if we'll ever get a good, fast, and affordable train system. Acela is pretty nice, but like so many American systems, it's only for the wealthy.

Real bears kill people.

I'm amazed at the number of advertisers who think being chased by a bear is funny. Sears, for instance, apparently thinks that this guy running away from a bear is hilarious. How funny is it if the bear catches the man? Well, with a single blow of his powerful clawed paw, he could knock off the man's head. That's funny isn't it, a head in the lying in the snow?  A few more hits and the man's guts are splattered all over the pine trees? Then the idea of the persons he was calling to coming out and seeing his body parts and blood all over the landscape makes this a very amusing commercial. Finally, to make this ad just as cute as can be the man is making angels in the snow while his new best friend looks on. That fantasy should prove very helpful when you're out in a real forest. Sometimes I think ad agencies have the brainpower and common sense of 10 year olds.

Note: In this same vein are the funny burglar spots, you know those madcap thieves that are just so funny when they break into someone's home. True thieves often murder the persons who catch them in the act, but let's not spoil the fun of these commercials.

Men do it, too.

It's no surprise that so many TV advertisers feature yoga in their promotions. After all it is a symbol of peace, harmony, good health, control and bodily self awareness. It's practiced all around the world and has been for centuries. But what is a surprise is the narrow thinking of almost all advertisers since for some inexplicable and illogical reason they almost always show it as an occupation for women. Why? There is nothing feminine about yoga. Yet almost every commercial, whether for a cereal, vitamins, health care plans, or some other fitness-related product, they show a woman, never a man practicing this ancient discipline. Yoga is a time-honored and admirable exercise regiment for both men and women. If you're an advertiser who wants something that only women do, why not use a pole dancer?

Merry Chrismas?

Ah, it's December once again and another chance for me to enjoy two of my favorite pastimes. One, chiding the lazy and often incompetent news media. And two, fighting for the rights of the oft forgotten letter T in so many daily words.

There is no Sanna Claus.

In this festive season
You'd be wise to pause
And tell your news staff people
That there is no Sanna Claus.

Reporters will be shattered,
Anchors will be dazed,
And almost everyone in news
Will surely be amazed.

If you tell them bluntly,
They're sure to drop their jaws.
So why not whisper in their ears,
"There is no Sanna Claus"?

There is no Sanna Claus, you know.
There simply is no Sanna.
No Sanna Cruz nor Sanna Fe
Nor winds called Sanna Ana.

There is no Sanna Barbara.
What's more, there never was.
There is no Sanna Rosa,
And there is no Sanna Claus.

We put Christ in Christmas
So, I'm asking you why can't a
Group of news announcers
Put the "t" back in Santa?

Who is this picture for?

To avoid the endless commercials on a crime show I was watching last night, I would switch over to the commercial-free TCM. Unfortunately they were showing one of the worst musical films ever made; Dr. Dolittle. Not the Eddie Murphy one, which also sucked, but the 1967 Rex Harrison film which is very nearly unwatchable, unless, like me, you're fascinated by how awful it is. Films like this absolutely amaze me. I cannot understand how leading scriptwriters, composers, actors like Rex Harrison and Samantha Eggar, other luminaries of the British theater, leading animal trainers, and special effects experts can all pool their talents and come out with one of the most leaden, boring, tiresome musicals ever. To cite just one idiotic scene, Dr. Doolittle has at his disposal glasses designed for a horse, supposedly, except they are glasses of standard design and horses eyes are on the sides. Nonetheless it instantly cures this horses vision problems. If you think that might have been an amusing scene, you'd be wrong. Rex Harrison should have realized that one Doolittle in his life was enough and turned this turkey down.

Keep your eye on this "good Catholic".

This slimy hypocrite calls himself a Catholic. But everything he does it contrary to anything Jesus would do, or more recently the Pope. Pope Francis (an idol even to an atheist like me) has attacked unfettered capitalism as a "new tyranny" and has urged global leaders to fight poverty and growing inequality. Hopefully all good Catholics will comply. But is Paul Ryan a good Catholic? Of course not.
Much of his life is devoted to creating situations of hunger and homelessness for the hungry and poor. Unlike Jesus, he doesn't give a fuck what happens to low-income people because he's too busy working to help the money changers. There's nothing Catholic about him. Now it's possible that he will heed the recent comments of Pope Francis, see the light, be true to his faith, and reverse his reckless course of cruel capitalism to help those in need. I personally think that's about as like to happen as Boehner going on the wagon. So I encourage you to watch Ryan in the future and listen to what he says and compare it to what Pope Francis would like this "good Catholic" to do.

Holiday hero.

Sadly this is one of the greediest Thanksgivings ever. Many leading retailers will be open on Thursday, (Macy's, Target, Old Navy, Wallmart, many, many others) thus forcing their least powerful employees to work during this family holiday. Perhaps the owners of these companies should be cooking pig rather than turkey. However, there is some good news. Tony Rohr, the manager of Pizza Hut in Elkhart, Indiana, refused to open on Thanksgiving Day. Since his bosses wanted whatever profit they could gain rather than the happiness of their employees, they fired him. Rohr, who worked for the chain for ten years, starting as a cook before working his way up o the manager. To add insult to injury the Pizza Hut powers wanted Rohr to sign a letter of resignation for his refusal to open the restaurant. Rohr's response, "I do not resign. However I accept that the refusal to comply with this greedy, immoral request means the end of my tenure with this company." He added, "I hope you realize that it is the people at the bottom of the totem pole that make your life possible." If top management is smart they will apologize to Rohr, rehire him, keep the outlet closed tomorrow and make him the manager of another Pizza Hut. After all, they have hundreds of managers, but only one hero.