Tag: nostalgia (Page 3 of 11)

Not Quite Like A Fine Wine

September 2, 2015 / DB

As I mentioned in last week’s Friday Links, I watched Real Genius a week ago. Then, this past Sunday, I watched Fletch. As with Real Genius, it had been a long, long time since I had watched Fletch, a movie which has to be in my top five most-watched non-Christmas movies of all time list.[1]

So A), yes I’m on a bit of a classic 80s movie run. Sunday nights seem to be the most convenient to watch them right now, since the Royals generally play during the afternoon on Sundays. We’ll see if this holds once football starts. I have a couple titles in mind for my next viewing. B) I also read one of the Fletch Chronicles last month, which combined three of the original Fletch novels into a single volume.[2] More on that in my next reader’s notebook entry.

Anyway, I found my reactions to the two movies rather interesting. I loved every second of Real Genius, even the parts that did not age very well. Fletch, on the other hand, I had some issues with. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still terrifically funny and I could still quote about half of the movie or make subtle gestures as Chevy Chase made them on the screen. But there was something I couldn’t pinpoint as I watched that made it maybe 3% less enjoyable than Real Genius.[3]

After thinking about it, I think it was purely about Chevy. Back in 1985, and through the next decade or so when I watched Fletch religiously, Chevy was one of my comedy gods. Throw on Fletch, Caddyshack, Vacation, Spies Like Us, The Three Amigos, or an SNL compilation, and I’m going to love every second of Chevy. The problem is how we’ve learned over the years that Chevy is a monumental dick to most people he works with. So the whole time I was watching Fletch, I kept thinking about who he pissed off while filming it. Did Dana Wheeler-Nicholson and Geena Davis cringe each time they had to do a scene with him, knowing some sexist comment was coming? Did Tim Matheson[4] roll his eyes when Chevy talked down to him?

Maybe none of that happened, but still it was always in the back of my head.

Val Kilmer has a reputation as being a bit difficult as well. But I didn’t think of that while watching Real Genius. Perhaps because he was not yet a big star when that came out, or because it was more of an ensemble piece than a vehicle to showcase him.

I had another problem with the movie, too. The first time Fletch sleeps with Gail Stanwyck has always bugged me. So he just told her that her husband has asked Fletch to kill him, had used money she provided to finance a drug deal rather than buy the land she believed she was purchasing, and is married to someone else. And five seconds later they’re in bed together? Even by 1980s movies standards, that’s a stretch.

But, as I said, overall I still really enjoyed it. There are so many classic lines that have woven their way into our common, pop culture language. Potential off-screen issues aside, it was the peak of Chevy Chase’s big screen career. We’ll see how some of his other classic 80s movies hold up when I get to them.

“I’ll take Unwieldy Pop Culture Category Names for $400, Alex.” ↩
Hell yes I’m counting them as three separate books in my 2015 reading list! ↩
Give or take. ↩
Funny how which movie you see of an actor’s first colors how you view them. I see Matheson and I always think of him as Alan Stanwyck first. I bet most people think of him as Otter from Animal House, though. And younger folks might think of him as John Hoynes from The West Wing. ↩

Gotta Get Back In Time

July 7, 2015 / DB

A pretty solid holiday weekend, all things considered. We had good weather; it did not rain for two days, which has been unusual over the past month, nor was it blazingly hot. We had our traditional family gathering at the LVS. Not as many people as the past few years but still a decent-sized crowd. The only downer was the air conditioner deciding not to work when we were crowding 14 people into a small area to eat dinner. Fortunately it was not too uncomfortably hot and then the AC decided to kick back on the next morning.

The highlight of the weekend for me, though, actually came Monday afternoon. Thursday I read that the weekend marked the 30th anniversary of the release of Back To The Future. On our trip to the library, I snatched up the DVD with plans to watch it with the girls over the weekend. We never got around to it at the LVS, but Monday afternoon we sat down together so the girls could learn all about Marty McFly and friends.

They loved it, and I was reminded what a great movie it is.

I don’t think I had watched it since 1990 or ’91. But I likely watched it a few dozen times between 1986 and then.[1] I was gambling a little that everything would be ok for my girls to watch. Other than the scenes where Biff attempts to force himself on Lorraine and a few assorted mild curse words, there wasn’t anything the girls haven’t seen on your average, terrible Nickelodeon teen show.

I tried not to explain too much to them as the movie progressed. I threw in a few cultural/historic tidbits in certain scenes, but tried to let them figure things out on their own as much as possible. Besides, where my generation had some basic understanding of what life was like in the 1950s thanks to Happy Days, The Hardy Boys, and Grease, I’m reasonably sure kids today are working with nearly zero knowledge of that era. It was a long freaking time ago! It’s a tough task to explain too much without stopping the movie every two minutes to talk through why the guy who runs the soda shop thinks it’s so ridiculous that Goldie Wilson wants to be mayor someday, why Marty tries to order a Tab and Pepsi Free, and why the music he plays at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance seems so outrageous.

I think they got it, though. They laughed at all the right parts, loved Marty evading Biff and his cronies on his improvised skateboard, and cringed at any romantic scenes. Best of all, when I asked “So why was Marty’s family so different when he came back to 1985?” they all quickly answered some variation of “Because he changed history!”[2]

L. had the observation of the day, though. When Marty returns to the mall parking lot and watches the Libyans try to kill Doc, she said, “Hey, that sign says ‘Lone Pine’!” After I explained to her sisters what she was talking about, they were pretty impressed. As was I. I honestly don’t remember if I ever noticed the change in the mall’s name from beginning of the movie to the end. But it has been 24–25 years since I watched it, too.

I have to say I really enjoyed the movie as well. I kind of forgot how fantastic a flick it is. Family-friendly (mostly). Great story and writing. Fine mix of humor, drama, romance, and action. Terrific performances from the entire cast. And a hell of a last 20 minutes.

Re-watching after all these years, I was especially struck by how good Christopher Lloyd was. Doc is just a great character, and it’s all because of Lloyd’s particular brand of physical madness. And I really love the way he plays the moments after Marty returns and he rises to reveal he had indeed kept and read the letter Marty left for him. There’s a very subtle tenderness in those moments that is just wonderful.

So the girls loved the movie and the moment the credits rolled, yelled how they want to watch parts two and three. Looks like I’ve already got my parenting win for the week in the books!

Like a lot of movies of my youth, I didn’t see it until a year after it was released in theaters. I’m 95% certain it was the first movie we ever rented after we bought our first VCR. ↩

Teen Beach Movie 2 may have helped them here, since time travel changed history in it as well. And they’ve watched that movie like 95 times in the last couple weeks. ↩

Old Films

June 10, 2015 / DB

Like many parents, we bought a camcorder around the time our first child was born.[1]

Like many parents, we recorded dozens of moments during our early years of parenting, sometimes letting the tape run long past the point when it should have been shut off because we were so utterly delighted with everything our child did.

Like many parents the camcorder slowly got used less-and-less as we added more offspring to the family. Once the first iPhone arrived in our home, we were pretty much done with our camcorder, and it has sat in its case in a closet for nearly six years now.[2]

S. had the brilliant idea last week that I charge the Sony up and give it to the girls to play with. The first step to turning it over to the girls, though, was making sure every moment we had put onto tape was safely backed up onto a hard drive. I was not about to let them destroy our only way of getting data off the MiniDV cassettes before I was sure we had multiple copies of the treasures recorded on them.

So for the past three days I’ve been hooking the camcorder up to the girls’ Mac Mini, selecting Import in iMovie, and letting the bits flow through the FireWire cable. I would occasionally sit and watch, or let the girls watch, as the movies that were being imported displayed on the Mini’s monitor. They loved it! There was much laughter and howling at their younger selves.

I loved it, too. I can’t remember the last time I watched any of the tapes. There are so many terrific moments collected on them.

A few observations:

Man do I love those babies who are in the 5–7 month range, when they’re just getting their personalities and you can get them laughing. So many wonderful moments of one of the girls laying on a couch or blanket, kicking their legs, and laughing at us making silly faces or noises at them. That’s just the freaking best.
It’s funny to see their personalities so soon. I see behavior on those videos from when the girls were 2 or 3 that exactly matches the girls they are today.
Asking babies/toddlers where their various body parts are never, ever gets old. There were probably hours of “Where are your toes? Where’s your belly?” etc. on those tapes.
Of the moments I saw, my absolute favorite was an epic 20 or 25 minute recording with a roughly four-month-old C. sitting in her excersaucer while M. played with her. The best part, though, was when I flipped the view-finding screen around so that M. could see herself while I filmed her. She freaking flipped out. She laughed as loud as I’ve ever heard her. She’d run up and mash her face into the screen, then back up and laugh again. When C. would appear over her shoulder, she’d scream “DERE C.!” And this just kept on going. I could only get her to stop mugging for the camera by asking her if she wanted to watch Big Bird. Then she quickly turned, waved backward over her shoulder to the camera, and marched toward the TV. Not good times, great times.
The girls are really looking forward to watching them all at some point this summer. And so am I. And I’m also kind of interested in what they come up with once I turn the camera over to them.

Along with the Sony Camcorder came our first Mac, since video editing was (allegedly) so much easier on a Mac. I wonder if S. wishes she could go back and rethink that buying decision. ↩

Also, as the video function on our Canon point-and-shoot camera got better, it was easier to pick it up to catch a quick video of the girls rather than go find the camcorder and wait for it to start up. ↩

Dave

May 21, 2015 / DB

As you know, I dig series finales. I love it when a show that has been on for years, and has built a loyal audience and deep back-story, closes everything out with one last episode and goodbye.

But when it’s a person who is leaving air rather than a show, and 33 years of history rather than just a solid 5–7 year sit-com/drama run, it’s a little different. It’s tougher to draw a straight line and connect all the dots between the first episode and last when you’re dealing with over three decades and two different networks. And when you’re dealing with one man and his idea of humor and entertainment as opposed to a cast of fictional characters.[1]

Letterman was never appointment television for me. His NBC show was on too late for me to watch live, except in the summer. When he moved to CBS, and up an hour, I did watch more often than I ever had before. But still it was not an every-night event for me. When his fastball got wonky and his audiences more adoring than critical, much of the magic of the first 15 years of his show(s) was gone. Some nights were still great, but others lacked the energy and spark that made Letterman such a comedic genius.

Fortunately, he got that fastball back. He may not have been able to throw 95 at the knees, but he could still bring it when he needed it. For people my age, who grew up idolizing him, it was fantastic to tune in occasionally and be greeted by that wacky, odd personality who helped to form our comedic preferences when we were kids.

Here’s my favorite random Dave moment: This is from an early 1980s episode that I saw about 10 years ago when some minor cable network briefly re-aired shows from the early Late Night years. Billy Crystal was a guest, but this was before he had been on Saturday Night Live or starred in movies or hosted the Oscars or done all the other things that made him one of the biggest stars of the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. He was just a guy who had been on that weird Soap show a few years back.

Anyway, Billy tells this story about something that happened on a recent airline flight. The audience was absolutely not getting the jokes. Sweat and worry appeared on Crystal’s forehead as he frantically worked to make the bit work. He delivered lines that he clearly expected to get laughter, only to be greeted by awkward silence. He nervously looked from the crowd to Dave and back.

And Dave LOVED this! He roared, not just because he got what Billy was trying to say and it amused him, but also because he loved seeing Billy suffer. He was the only one enjoying the interview, and it was obviously the highlight of his day.

That discomfort was the key to Letterman’s specific brand of comedy.

In his best years, the crowd was always a little on edge. Dave would tell jokes that fell flat, or do rehearsed bits that did not quite work. And while some in the crowd got the joke immediately, other in those early crowds would squirm in their seats or chuckle nervously, uncertain of how to respond. He was always pushing forward and forcing the audience to go new places. It didn’t always work in the moment, but Dave always knew that the payoff would come. Perhaps years later, but it would come.

Which brings me to the biggest reason I stopped watching Dave. The young people who adopted his show in its early years began reaching middle age. Going to see Dave was no longer a chance to see cutting-edge comedy, but rather a chance to worship at the altar of a comedy legend. To be part of an Event. Where awkward reactions were once the norm, the audiences showed wild enthusiasm for even the least well-crafted jokes. The applause was often way out of proportion with the effort put into delivery.

That wasn’t Dave’s fault. That was the fault of his audience, and also an influence from Jay Leno’s Tonight Show, where the audience was encouraged to behave in that manner. Where once there was a risk in late night comedy, now the studio audience had become Pavlovian, laughing and applauding on cue rather than because of genuine emotional response.

I think that took a little away from Dave, and contributed to the loss of his heater.

As I said, fortunately he got it back. But the audience was still annoying and made me cringe when I watched on nights Dave wasn’t locked in. In recent years I pretty much only set the DVR to record when I band I liked was on, and for Darlene Love’s annual December appearance. Luckily, the show and CBS embraced YouTube and have been putting the best performances and clips from interviews online, so I’ve probably watched more Letterman in the past three years, in that format, than I had watched since we moved to Indiana and I had to live with the Eastern time zone TV schedule.

Last night I set the DVR and as soon as I got back from dropping the girls off at school this morning, landed on the couch and hit play. It was a rather excellent final episode. The Top Ten was fantastic.[2] The “Kids Love Me” highlight package was great. And then, in the midst of Dave thanking the staff that has worked for him over the years, the DVR cut off. So I did not get to hear his final words, nor see the Foo Fighters send him off.

Given my periodic viewing of the show over the years, that was somehow appropriate. Were I a devoted fan, I would have been apoplectic.[3] But Dave entertained me one last time and his closing words really weren’t that important.

So long, Dave. And thanks.

I found it interesting to look back on how late night television has changed. For so long it was just Johnny Carson. Letterman backed him up, appealing to a younger, hipper, more cynical generation. When Carson retired we were left with Leno vs. Letterman. Choice, but still a binary one. You either got Dave and watched The Late Show, or you didn’t and watched Leno’s more middle-of-the-road show. A decade later Jon Stewart added a third voice to the mix, and cracked things open so when Leno (first) retired, things quickly disintegrated. Until yesterday we had Stewart (for now), Fallon, Kimmel, Conan, and Dave.

Like so many other aspects of our society, that singular voice that guides our nation discussions is long gone. Now you have at least five choices if you want humor, interviews, and music after your late local news. If you make the wrong choice, or just go to bed, and hear about something amazing happening on another show when you go into work the next morning, you simply fire up your browser and watch the clip of what you missed.

As with everything that’s changed because of technology in recent years, I can’t say if that is good or bad. I do know that no one will influence people the way David Letterman influenced all of us who were growing up and coming of age in the 1980s.

Although, of course, there were many fictional and quasi-fictional characters in Dave’s world over the years. ↩
As an aside, I am trying not to write 1500 words about how Julia Louis-Dreyfus has aged better than any woman in TV history. ↩
I also probably would have stayed up to watch live and thus not had this problem. ↩

Unfulfilled Promise

March 12, 2015 / DB

This post is one of the most difficult pieces I’ve ever had to publish.

Not because I’m sharing some rough personal news or writing about an event that has caused me emotional stress. But rather because it has been percolating in my head for roughly two months, rewritten multiple times, and I’ve spent hours doing research on it.

And I’m still not sure I’m satisfied with it.

But, since I spent hours yesterday trying to, finally, wrap it up, I’m going to go ahead and post it and be done.

First, background.

Waaaaaay back in early January, the SEC Network aired an edited and enhanced[1] replay of the legendary February 1990 game between Loyola Marymount and LSU. If you don’t recall the magic of that day,[2] you might want to do a quick reset by reading Luke Winn’s retelling of the game from a couple years back:

The Lost Art of Scoring: Revisiting the 1990 LSU-Loyola epic

I recorded the game and have, in small chunks, watched it while running on the treadmill. It is so awesome. Loyola had the late Hank Gathers, Bo Kimball, and a bunch of guys who showed no fear in running-and-gunning for 40 minutes. Or more, if needed.

LSU had sophomore Chris Jackson, who led the nation in scoring as a freshman and could do just about anything he wanted on the court. They also had 7-footer Stanley Roberts, who had been ineligible as a freshman, and was not just tall, not just huge, but also pretty damn good. And, just to make it interesting, they had a freshman named Shaquille O’Neal. The guys surrounding those three were long, athletic, and capable of hitting shots and playing defense.

While watching this game, I kept thinking about how little the Shaq-led LSU teams did in the NCAA tournament. In 1990, the one year Jackson and Roberts were both on the roster with Shaq, the Tigers lost eight games in the regular season and earned a #5 seed in the NCAA tournament, losing to #4 seed Georgia Tech in the second round. Now, that Tech team was pretty good. It made the Final Four and had a few NBA players on its roster, notably Kenny Anderson.

But, still…LSU had two 7-footers, who were both massive while still being athletic. And a guard who was nearly un-guardable.

The next two years, Shaq was on his own. In 1991 LSU lost in the first round to eleventh seed UConn. In 1992, his final year at LSU, the Tigers lost to #2 seed Indiana in the second round.

So the Shaq era was a bit of a bust when it came to winning in March. No surprise given who the coach of that team was. Dale Brown was a coach who always seemed too clever for his own good, generally getting in the way of his most talented teams in March.

So I began wondering, what was the biggest waste of future talent for an NCAA team? Or, put the other way, what was the lowest return of NCAA tournament success based on NBA talent on the team?

That’s where I ran into issues. I think I keep looking at this too broadly. My focus should really just be on that 1990 LSU team compared to other single seasons. But I keep wanting to rope the entire Shaq era into the discussion.

Anyway, here are some other teams I thought of.

The 1990 Syracuse team. Derrick Coleman, Billy Owens, and LeRon Ellis. It was ranked #1 for the first two months of the season, but lost to Minnesota in the Sweet 16.
1991 Arizona. Chris Mills, Brian Williams, and Sean Rooks among others. Lost to Seton Hall in the Sweet 16.
1998 Kansas. Two first team All-Americans in Raef LaFrentz and Paul Pierce. Lost to Rhode Island in round of 32.
1984 North Carolina. Michael Jordan, Brad Daugherty, Sam Perkins, Kenny Smith, and Matt Doherty. Lost to Indiana in Sweet 16.
And Georgetown only got to the second weekend of the tournament once, an Elite Eight appearance in 1989, out of three years of Alonzo Mourning and Dikembe Mutombo. Mutombo was injured much of 1991, so let’s take the 1990 team, which lost to Xavier in the second round.

Late Addition

Good grief. After I posted this, I checked back to some notes I scribbled down a few weeks ago and saw that I forgot a very important team: 2007 Texas. Kevin Durant, one of the greatest freshman in NCAA history. DJ Augustin, who is still playing solid ball in the NBA. AJ Abrams, who was a great shooter. Then a bunch of terrific pieces around them.

And this team lost to an eleven seed, USC, in the second round. BY NINETEEN POINTS.

Not the same collection of talent as LSU, nor as experienced as the ’98 KU team. But, man, this is likely the most Rick Barnes team in the history of Rick Barnes teams.

I’m sure there are other teams that I should have considered, but I went with the ones that immediately jumped into my head. Feel free to throw your own suggestions my way.

Here’s where I start to struggle. How do I separate these teams? Do I look more at how the players performed in college or the pros? Does it matter who you lose to and when, or just that you don’t reach the Final Four? Which is the bigger deal, a team that clearly underachieves or one that just has a bad day at the wrong time?

After much thought, I decided to go with the overall underachievers angle. I’m not thinking about the biggest tournament upsets. And I’m trying my hardest to consider the players at their college level of skill and effectiveness. So 1984 Michael Jordan was a first team All-American. But we was not yet MICHAEL JORDAN.

Of course, now that I’ve finally posted this, I might read it in a week and think it’s complete garbage. Keep that in mind.

So, based on the list above, here are the biggest underachievers I could think of in the last 30 years.

And it’s easy: 1990 LSU. Almost all the other teams listed above were Bad Days At The Worst Time situations. But LSU in 1990? That team should have been un-freaking-guardable. Yet they lost nine times. They played played in the SEC conference, of which Arkansas was not yet a member, which featured a probation-hampered and rebuilding Kentucky team, and Florida was not the power that Billy Donovan would turn them into 20 years later. Yet somehow Georgia, not LSU, won the regular season title. And then LSU lost to Auburn in the first round of the conference tournament.

Again, this team had a guard that could shoot from anywhere on the court, get to the rim any time he wanted, and two massive 7-footers playing in an era when you couldn’t batter guys inside the way you can now. And they lost nine times, including the first weekend of the NCAA tournament.

Absolutely terrible.

Of the other teams I mentioned, only Georgetown really comes close to squandering as much talent. But ‘Zo and Dikembe never played with very good guards, so you could pack the defense inside and just wait for their guards to shoot them out of a game while running the bigs to death on offense. Still, two NBA All-Star caliber 7-footers and you lose to Xavier?

Now if I talked about the worst tournament loss, that’s clearly KU in 1998. LaFrentz never panned out in the NBA, but he was a monster his senior year. And Pierce, before becoming an NBA Hall of Famer, was damn-near unstoppable in his final year in Lawrence. In the Rhode Island game, LaFrentz had 23 points and 14 rebounds. Pierce scored 22. The rest of the team, though, was dreadful from the floor, especially in the second half, and Tyson Wheeler and Cuttino Mobley carved up the KU defense to squeeze out the win. Terrible loss, but that was a great team all season, losing just two games when they were at full strength by a total of three points before the URI game.

The 1990 Syracuse and 1991 Arizona teams were both loaded with future NBA guys, but never really put all their talent together. And each team made the second weekend of the tournament, so their losses weren’t as bad as the KU loss.

Finally, the 1984 Indiana win over North Carolina is the ultimate Bad Day At The Wrong Time game. Carolina was sooooo much more talented than IU. Seriously, look at that roster. It’s ridiculous. But Bobby Knight got his Hoosiers to play unbelievable defense for one day, benefitted from Kenny Smith not being 100%, and pulled off the shocker. That game, almost as much as the three national titles Knight won, is a huge part of his legend at IU. Other than Steve Alford – WHO WAS A FRESHMAN! – there was not a great player on that squad. But, for one day, everyone locked into the role perfectly and they pulled the massive upset.

The biggest thing about that game, though, is it cost us a potential second UNC-Georgetown title game in three years. IU lost to a mediocre Virginia team in the Elite 8. Of course that same team I call mediocre pushed Houston to overtime before losing by 2 in the national semifinal. Houston then fell to the Hoyas in the title game.

If UNC beats IU, are they able to beat UVa for the third time that season? If so, I bet they get by Houston. And then we have a rematch of the classic 1982 title game. Only this time Jordan isn’t a bit player, UNC has Daugherty, Perkins, and Doherty to throw at Patrick Ewing, and (if healthy) Kenny Smith would laugh at the Hoya pressure.

AND THEN…let’s say UNC beats Georgetown in ’84. Villanova over Georgetown probably doesn’t happen the next year, because Patrick Ewing either goes pro after his junior year or the Hoyas go undefeated in ’85 to avenge three years of coming oh-so-close.

OK, one more thing: college basketball was freaking ridiculous from the mid–80s to the mid–90s. There were so many teams loaded with future NBA talents who stayed together for multiple years. Think about all the underachievers/upset victims above. Then throw in the teams that were nearly great but still made it to the Elite 8 or Final Four (Houston, Duke before Laettner). Then add in the UNLVs and Louisvilles and Laettner Duke teams that did win it all. Mercy.

Even when our generation got to college, it was crazy if a guy left after two years. I’m firmly in favor of players having the right to declare for the NBA draft any time they want. But, I have to say, the college game was so much better back when guys stayed until they were physically mature, their games had developed, and they had confidence based on experience, not just raw talent. They knew their systems better and, thus, the game was more pleasing to watch as the game was more about five guys working together than setting up isolations for the most talented scorer.[3]

Now players today are waaaaaay more athletic than they were back then. So the highlights are better today, but the overall aesthetic of the game was better then.

Good grief. 1900 words. I need to stop letting these things sit in my head for eight weeks before I write them up!

Edited because some portions of the game were cut out. Which was kind of insane because one roughly three-minute stretch that got pulled featured about 40 points being scored, combined. Enhanced because there are interviews with both coaches and a few players. ↩
And to be honest, I never saw the game live. At the same time, I was in Allen Fieldhouse watching #2 KU beat #9 Oklahoma. ↩
One of the common complaints about the NBA by fans who prefer the college game is, “I hate how the just play one-on-one in the NBA.” Ironically, I think the college game has become more isolation-oriented while the best NBA teams rely on more complex offenses designed to use cuts and screens to get players open rather than just clearly out and watching. ↩

SNL 40

February 18, 2015 / DB

I would imagine a few of my loyal readers, who share my pop culture obsessions, pulled the site up the last couple days anticipating a break down of the SNL 40 special.

My apologies for the delay. I was unable to watch live, and basketball viewing obligations got in the way Monday. But I was finally able to watch most of it Tuesday night and then finish up this morning. So, thoughts!

Overall, I really enjoyed the show. It was a tough balance to strike, and I think Lorne Michaels, et. al. did a decent job getting it right. They couldn’t show clips for 210 minutes (minus commercials). Nor could they just have extended monologues or group discussions. So, they went with the traditional format of the show and blew it up to giant size. A cold open. A super monologue. Live sketches. Four live musical performances. Several live sketches. Celebrity cameos. And clips. Lots of clips.

It wasn’t perfect, but I laughed a lot – at both the old and new stuff – and was often at least smiling if not laughing.

The thing that stuck me about the show was how did they manage the celebrity logistics of the evening. Who gets to actually perform vs. who just gets to stand on stage? Who gets extended camera time vs. a brief moment to introduce the next segment? And how did they choose which of the non-cast members in the crowd got TV time as well? The simple act of planning out a 3 1/2 hour show must have been a nightmare, between writing the live pieces and picking the taped segments from 40 years of material. But managing the egos and expectations of everyone invited must have been the toughest part of the evening.

I’ve saved several articles written after the special to Instapaper that I have not read yet. So if I’m repeating things others have said, it is because we are of like minds rather than me copying them.

On to the bullet points:

The cold open made a ton of sense, to the point of being predictable. But like so much of the night, it was amazing to think about the process of picking what characters, sketches, and catch phrases would get name checks in the opening act of the night. Lorne Michaels famously has a large board on his office wall where they organize each week’s show. How did they track things over the course of this one, making sure they didn’t skip anyone or reference a particular sketch too many times? Was there a wall on a warehouse somewhere where each reference was carefully noted and cross-referenced?
While watching the cold open, I realized that Jimmy Fallon is, arguably, one of the biggest, most successful SNL alums. Which amazes me. When he first showed up on SNL, he seemed like he was just ripping off much of what Adam Sandler did, going on Weekend Update and playing his guitar. Over time it became apparent that he had more range than Sandler did, but he never seemed like he was the guy poised to break out. He couldn’t stay in character, he generally was a supporting element of sketches, and even when he moved to co-host of Weekend Update, he seemed like an outlet for Tina Fey’s writing. Yet here he is, host of The Tonight Show, getting great ratings. I never watched his old show, nor have I watched The Tonight Show since he took it over. But I’ve almost always enjoyed the clips that turn up on YouTube. You never know, I guess.
Like the cold open, I really enjoyed the monologue. Well, up to a point. It seemed a little long and a little big. And I think the focus waned as it went on. But I enjoyed the point being made.
I skipped through most of the musical performances, watching just the first 30 seconds or so of each. The contrast in performers was interesting. Paul McCartney and Paul Simon have been favorites of and friends to Michaels since the show began. It was no surprise that they were on. Being countered by Miley Cyrus and Kanye West seemed odd at first. Two exceptionally conservative choices with two rather daring choices. But McCartney and Simon were forces that changed music in their heydays. They weren’t shocking in the same way that Miley and Kanye are, but still they altered the structure of the music, and pop culture, worlds. Whether Miley and Kanye stand up the passing of time remains to be seen. But I think they embody the idea of challenging the status quo that Lorne Michaels always wanted the show to put forward. You could argue that Taylor Swift, who was on stage but did not sing, is more in line with the mainstream pop that McCartney and Simon represent. But, as good as her music is, she’s not challenging anything. She’s safe where Miley and Kanye are daring and controversial.
Speaking of McCartney, man, age has finally hit him hard. There’s a sad, tired, old man’s face hidden behind all the tucks and injections. And that hair. Positively Trump-esque. How far back on his head does that comb-over begin? And his voice is notably weaker than it was just a few years ago. But, still, when he walks on stage, you can’t help but get a jolt. That’s Paul Fucking McCartney!
I enjoyed the live sketches that were new much more than the rehashes of old stuff. Dan Aykroyd clearly had a lot less stimulants in his system than he did when he first did the Super Bass-o-matic commercial. And I did not like the bits on weekend update where actors did their favorite characters from the past at all.
But Jeopardy was pretty great. It pretty much always has been, in every form, but its highest moments were when Will Farrell was Alex Trebek. The way he struggles to hide his rage at the contestants was always fantastic.
It cracked me up that one of the first commercial breaks was from the current State Farm campaign with Hans and Franz. Throw in a commercial for an upcoming Ferrell flick and a Parks and Recreation promo and there were at least three commercials featuring SNL alums.
As I was fast-forwarding through commercials, I had to go back and watch the one with Jon Hamm for Red Nose Day. I wasn’t sure if that was a real commercial or some new, fake commercial. Interesting timing, as I bet it got a lot more attention from people who were thinking like me than it normally would have received.
The reaction to Chevy Chase’s introduction was noticeably muted. Is there anyone he hasn’t pissed off over the past 40 years? He looked kind of terrible, too.
Robert DeNiro was awful. Jack Nicholson and Christopher Walken were wasted. Amazingly, Keith Richards had the best moment of the night from the “very old guys who Lorne loves and get 30 seconds on stage” category.
I was a little surprised when Martin Short came out to host a segment. He was a cast member for only one year, although that was a pretty great year. When he hosted, many years later, he was great. But still, it seemed odd for him to get a long stretch in front of the camera. AND THEN HE FUCKING STOLE THE SHOW. He was phenomenal. He and Maya Rudolph destroyed in their segment about musical acts. Great writing, better performances.
“We’re about to flip you the funk bird.” The argument for Will Ferrell as greatest ever cast member largely stems on his longevity. You forget how many great characters he had.
So we knew Eddie was coming back. All us who grew up on his era could not wait to see what happened when he got on stage again. That said, I figured, in the back of my mind, that it would be a disappointment. Children of the 80s wanted Buckwheat and James Brown Hot Tub Party and Velvet Jones and Mr. White all wrapped up into an epic, five-minute performance. That was not fair or realistic. Instead we got a fawning introduction by Chris Rock, and then an awkward moment on stage by Eddie. My first thought, when it was over, was, “They must have promised him a Sinatra-sque introduction and no requirement to perform to get him to finally come back.” What a shame.
Eddie’s appearance became even more awkward when Jerry Seinfeld killed it moments later. He didn’t quite reach the highs that Martin Short hit, but he was still great. And the back-and-forth with Larry David was just terrific.
It’s not an official media event if Peyton Manning isn’t involved. And props to him for getting seated next to Catherine Zeta Jones, who still has it going on.
Very nice shout out to the still-recovering Tracy Morgan by Mr. and Mrs. Alec Baldwin, errrr, Tina Fey and Alec Baldwin. Perfectly toned and presented.
I didn’t put a clock on it, but it seemed like “White Like Me” got one of the longest clips of the night. Which makes sense. It was such a great piece, easily one of the best in the history of the show.
The obligatory salute to cast and crew members who have died was excellent. Including people who were (mostly) behind the camera was a very nice touch, especially since their faces elicited such noticeable reactions from the people in the studio who had worked with them. And the Jon Lovitz thing was the perfect final touch. It said “We’re serious, but we’re not that serious.”
Closing out the night was Wayne’s World, which also hit all the right notes. The look of mock terror on Mike Myers face when Kanye acted like he was coming on stage the second time was brilliant. Myers has been involved in some Kanye shenanigans before. The Lorne Michaels entry in the top ten was another moment where they both honored the show, and Michaels, while making fun of the pageantry of the night at the same time. There was a lot of inside baseball in Myers’ and Carvey’s lines during that bit, but it was still all great.
Finally, the closing credits with the cast crammed onto the stage. I wondered how much jockeying there was for spots near the front, and near Lorne. Did the director or a producer place everyone, or was it a free-for-all? Lot of egos and Lorne/daddy issues in that moment. And I paused and looked, but I could not find Eddie anywhere. Maybe I just missed him in the crush.

So, 40 years down. I almost wondered, as I watched, if this was an ending, too. Would Lorne look at what he’s managed over four decades, think of his age and the other shows he’s producing, and perhaps think it was time to close the show down after this season? I think likely not. By all accounts, he still burns more for SNL than his other ventures. He’s in good health, as far as we know. I think those thoughts are a bit premature. But the end isn’t too far off, and from everything I’ve read the show will likely end when he decides he has had enough.

I’ve rarely watched the show since Ferrell left, although when I catch a clip show (like the recent Super Bowl and Valentine’s Day specials), I enjoy the segments that feature current/recent cast members. It’s still nice to know it’s there, though, and that as long as it continues, there will be reruns on at 10:00 pm Eastern on Saturdays with the occasional clip show in regular prime time.

I’m Excited, Don’t Know Why

December 11, 2014 / DB

So one morning last week I’m on my way home after dropping the girls off at St. P’s. I’m flipping through my stored channels on SirriusXM and not having much luck finding something to listen to.

Until I hit channel 8, the 80s station. There, I hear that familiar church organ dirge, followed by some of the most recognizable first words of a song/album in rock history,

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life…

My hand shot to the volume knob and cranked it up. “Let’s Go Crazy” is a fine way to get the blood pumping on a cold, dreary December morn.

But I realized something as I listened. I never really understood the lyrics to the second half of the chorus. And by understand, I mean I had no idea what Prince was singing.

We all have songs where we have misheard/misunderstood lyrics for years. But to flat out not know what someone is singing for 30 years? When I’ve owned the song on vinyl, cassette, CD, and digital formats? When the song was played every 25 minutes on pop radio for three months, and the video aired every hour on MTV over the same stretch? When the song was featured in the opening scene of one of the iconic movies of the 1980s? When it is performed by one of my favorite all-time artists, on one of my favorite all-time albums?

Seriously, I’ve heard “Let’s Go Crazy” well over 1,000 times, I bet. And somehow I was never able to decipher what Prince was singing after:

Let’s go crazy
Let’s get nuts…

So when I got home I raced to the Google, typed in the song title, and went to the first lyrics site that popped up. And now, after 30 years of mumbling along with the next two lines, I know to sing:

Look for the purple banana
’Til they put us in the truck, let’s go

I’m not sure that was worth the wait.

In addition, I had no idea what he was singing in the final verse, right after this part:

Dr. Everything Gonna Be Alright
Will make everything go wrong

Turns out, it was another perfectly reasonable lyric I should have grasped as a 13-year-old.

Pills and thrills and daffodils will kill
Hang tough children

How did I never figure out what Prince was saying? I have three defenses.

First, Prince doesn’t exactly offer those words up clearly. In the purple banana part, he kind of stutters and adds a delay, so they blend in with the music a bit. And in the pills and thrills section, he kind of Elvises it up.

Second, the first cassette copy I owned of Purple Rain was from the Columbia House record club. Which, many of you may recall, often did not pay to license the lyrics to the albums they sold. So while your friends who went to Musicland or Sam Goody to buy their music got the long, fold-out inserts with full lyrics and liner notes, those of us who relied on Columbia House got a short cover with the album art on one side, and blank paper on the other.

Finally, purple banana? Seriously?!?! How am I supposed to guess that phrase when trying to figure out what he was saying? It was easier to just fake it.

Anyway, now I know. So one 30 year mystery has been solved. And people say I don’t do much during the day!

Back In The Day

August 27, 2014 / DB

I recently began following Chris Jaffe on Twitter. His claim to fame is that each day he tweets out a bunch of reasons why that date is significant. For example, here’s what his feed looked like this morning.

Jaffe

Anyway, a couple weeks back I noticed he mentioned that the Rolling Stones album Steel Wheels had been released exactly 25 years earlier. I’m not a huge fan of the Stones, but I immediately thought about what the singles were from that album. The first was “Mixed Emotions,” probably their last good song. And, as my brain tends to do, I tried to think of where that song fell in my life. That was easy: it was climbing the charts and in heavy rotation during my first weeks of college.

A little more checking and I figured that I went off to college on August 20, 1989. So I just passed the 25th anniversary of my first week of college.

Yikes.

Or, rather, it was the anniversary of my first week at college. I don’t know if dorms still open a week before classes, but back then we had Hawk Week, colloquially known as Country Club Week, where you moved into your residence, paid your tuition, picked up your books, dropped some more money at the bookstore on important things like t-shirts and sweatshirts, and otherwise spent a week doing a lot of nothing waiting for classes to begin. Well, nothing during the day. The lack of classes was an excuse to drink yourself silly each night.

That first night of college life was a big deal for me. Two good friends from high school were going to KU with me, but neither showed up until later in the week. I had a roommate from Nebraska who, after introducing himself, took off to hang out with some guys he knew from Omaha. Eventually I hooked up with some sophomores across the hall, who offered me a couple beers while we sat around and watched A Fish Called Wanda on someone’s tiny TV. While I didn’t become fast friends with that crew immediately, a significant chunk of them were people I stayed close with through college. A couple of them are still good friends to this day. So that was a pretty solid night.

My other memories of that week are just walking around campus, learning how the bus routes worked, and wondering when the hot girls looking for love would magically appear in my room.¹ I had my first crush almost immediately, a nice girl who I became casual friends with but never liked me as much as I wanted her to.² Amazingly, there’s a shirt up in my dresser that I bought that week that I still wear regularly, although the sleeves were long ago cut off and it’s just worn for mowing the lawn or working out at home.

It’s crazy for me to think about M. being 10 and me having been a primary caregiver for a decade. But then to think that it’s been 25 years since I started college is crazier still.

The answer was never. ↩
A recurring theme for the next several years. ↩

Saying Goodbye To Prime Time In Style

August 4, 2014 / DB

File this under “Greatest Internet Finds.” It’s spectacular.

In 1977, NBC gave Richard Pryor a prime time show. It last four episodes. Well, three and then an unaired final episode. That unaired episode is on YouTube. Find 45 minutes to watch it.

It’s not a standard sitcom or variety show episode. Rather, it is a full-on roast of Pryor by the writers and performers of the show. Tim Reid, who went on to play Venus Flytrap on WKRP In Cincinnati. Marsha Warfield, who played Roz on Night Court. Robin Freaking Williams. Sandra Bernhard. And Paul Mooney, who collaborated with Pryor for years, went on to his own stand up success, and more recently wrote and performed on Chappelle’s Show.

Oh, and then Pryor wipes them all out in the end.

This is extremely Not Safe For Work (clearly why it never aired). So watch with caution.

Via Kottke

On Throwing Things Out

July 24, 2014 / DB

As promised, the second of two nostalgia-focused entries.

Last week I spent some time cleaning out our attic and some boxes in a basement closet. I don’t have a ton of old stuff left around. I purged much of it when I moved away from Kansas City 11 years ago. But there were still a few boxes with fun memories of my youth in them.

The biggest box contained all my old Star Wars and GI Joe toys. Nothing was in collectable condition, so I decided to unload them on the girls. Now, keep in mind that they’ve never seen any of the Star Wars movies, nor any GI Joe cartoons. But they happily played with them for hours and hours. Seriously, it was the best behaved they have been all summer. I should have done this weeks ago! Some of the novelty has faded, but L. especially loves playing with the Millennium Falcon, the X-Wing fighter, and the GI Joe F-14. I found one GI Joe action figure separated into two pieces. Apparently he stepped on a land mine or something.

Another box contained an over-flowing scrapbook that I started during the 1980 American League Championship Series and World Series. All kinds of other random sports memories are crammed into it. I didn’t look through it too much, but I did find a few gems in my brief investigation.

First, I found the stat sheet my 1984 Little League coach handed out at the end of that season. This was a good year, as we went 14-2 and won the championship series two games to one. It was also my first year in a tougher league, and as usual when I was on the bottom half of the age bracket, I struggled. I hit just .229 for the season. But, I wasn’t afraid to take a walk¹, and managed to get an impressive .485 on base percentage. I was ahead of my time! Throw in the fact that I could run down about anything hit to center field, and Billy Beane would have loved me. Had I not been 12/13 and about to enter eighth grade, of course.

Also in that scrapbook was the Kansas City Star Fall TV preview section from 1985. On the cover? Don Johnson and Philip Michael Thomas from Miami Vice. No wonder I saved it!

The impetus for this process was a sister-in-law’s impending yard sale. For years I’ve held on to a massive box of CDs. This thing is huge; it’s damn near impossible to pick up, so I kept it on the floor of our basement closet. After much deep soul searching, I decided to go ahead and send 95% of the disks to the sale. Most of the songs I still listen to are already on my hard drives. And it’s been years since I went down and dug out a disk to rip a song that I was missing. I was far more likely just to buy the track from iTunes or Amazon than waste time going through the box. And I figure with the impending age of streaming music, anything I want to listen to will never be that far away.

That doesn’t mean I didn’t feel some pangs of doubt when I handed the box over. There was a lot of time and money put into amassing this collection. It was especially difficult to decide whether to give up my large collection of Pearl Jam import singles. But, again, they’re all on my hard drives already, and I can find most of them quickly on Rdio when I need to. So they all went.

After the review, I saved just a handful of disks. All my Pearl Jam live albums. Some by local bands that I knew would be tough to track down if I did want to listen to them in whole some day. And then a handful that are in my “all time favorites” list. Hopefully the rest find a good home.

Probably the funnest thing about digging through that box was seeing how my tastes changed over the years. There were plenty of “pop” artists in there. There was still a lot of early 90s R&B. ² A small pile of jazz disks. Some cheesy soundtracks probably purchased to have around in case girls liked them. And then loads and loads of “alternative rock” artists.

As with any time I decide to either pitch or give away stuff, I struggle with the accounting behind the transactions. I think of how much money went into buying these disks/clothes/books/etc. and what their worth is now. As with the Star Wars toys, nothing in these boxes was rare or in pristine condition. The value today is almost completely based on my memories of their time in my possession. This CD helped me through a rough time. I read that book during one of the best summers of my life. And so on.

I suppose the bottom line of this exercise is, since I got my own credit cards and income during and after college, I’ve always bought too much stuff.

Or maybe I was afraid to swing. I don’t recall. ↩
I had sent the bulk of those disks over a few years ago for another yard sale. ↩