Enotes

The Reluctant Frontrunner

2012-03-01T17:06:00.003-05:00

It's been said that it's easy to run for President of the United States. What's difficult is stopping.

I don't think that's true of Mitt Romney.

I'm not convinced that Romney, the former Governor of Massachusetts and Republican frontrunner, is all that jazzed about this whole running for president thing.

Romney speaks of his business acumen and his days in the board rooms almost wistfully, like he's thinking, "THOSE were the days!"

CEOs don't have to run for anything. They don't have to get anyone to like them. They don't have to explain themselves. They're rarely even held accountable.

All those traits, I think Mitt Romney misses very badly.

What he also misses very badly is in his attempts to orate.

It was all there for Romney on Tuesday night, to inject some passion and touch on some emotional chords. He had just won a victory in the Michigan GOP primary---his supposed "home state."

You know, the place where the trees are just the right height.

He could have, in his victory speech, waxed nostalgic and emotional and spoke of how much the win meant to him---and I don't mean in terms of delegates won.

He could have captivated his audience with words of praise for his "fellow" Michiganders, and how much he knew they'd come through for him and why he believes in Michigan and its people.

There was absolutely nothing stopping Romney from delivering such a speech. He won---maybe not by as big of a margin as hoped---and so the winner can pretty much say anything he wants. The winner will never be accused of having sour grapes.

The term "sore winner" doesn't exist, as far as I'm concerned.

But Romney didn't seize his moment. He almost raced through his speech Tuesday night, refusing to inject any dramatic pauses and eschewing voice inflection.

The speech sounded like a bad Jay Leno monologue---which I know can be considered a redundant term. If it was supposed to be a roast of President Obama, then Romney could use some pointers from Jeffrey Ross, Lisa Lampanelli, et al.

Romney spoke as if he had just consumed a gallon of pure caffeine, which in addition to giving him a nervous tick, also stripped him of any human emotion.

I think Bob Shrum, a Democratic strategist, put it well on MSNBC last night.

Romney, Shrum said, comes off as someone who spends his time in a Golden Tower and occasionally comes down to speak to the peasants---by reading cards that someone thrusts at him.

But, like I said, I think Romney's lack of public speaking skills are borne out of the fact that he simply doesn't like doing this.

He's not in Massachusetts anymore, Toto.

This is big time politics now. REAL campaigning. It's a grind, for sure. And it's lasting longer than he thought it would, thanks to Romney's inability to shake Rick Santorum, who's clinging to Romney's pant leg like a feisty dog.

The nomination was supposed to be mostly clinched by now. Romney didn't sign up for this kind of a fight, I don't believe. And it's showing, in the clumsy manner in which he speaks.

The line about trees being the right height in Michigan is already becoming his signature. And that's not good.

Mitt Romney is treating this presidential campaign not with passion or emotion, but with the countenance of a man trying to get through a root canal.

And yet he'll still likely win the GOP nomination, and go mano-a-mano with President Obama.

Who has the heart to tell Mitt that he ain't seen nothing yet?

Hey, Hey, He Was a Monkee!

2012-02-29T16:54:00.004-05:00

He was, as heartthrobs go, portable.

Davy Jones was adorable and could fit in your pocket, it seemed. He was the pipsqueak of the Monkees, the tiniest of the singers/actors who captivated young women of the late-1960s thru the mid-1970s.

He was part of the British Invasion but in a decidedly American way. The Monkees, save for Jones, was made up of Americans: Micky Dolenz, Mike Nesmith and Peter Tork. They had an American producer (Don Kirshner at first) and their shtick was concocted by Americans (Bob Rafelson and Bert Schneider).

Rafelson and Schneider, who were each steeped with television experience, wanted to make a quirky TV show about a rock and roll band. They didn't, initially, intend for that band to actually become a rock band.

But that's exactly what the Monkees did; they were every bit of a rock band as the others they shared spots with on the Billboard 100.

The lead singer was Jones, with his very British mop head---and very Beatles-like at the time.

Jones quickly became the unquestioned star of the Monkees---at least with the sweet young things who cried and fawned and fainted upon seeing him in person. Also very Beatles-like.

Jones is dead now, of an apparent heart attack at age 66. He's the first of that generation's heartthrobs to pass---unless you include Beatles John Lennon and George Harrison.

The list of singers, off the top of my head, who caused the females to swoon in Jones' time includes David Cassidy, Leif Garrett, Bobby Sherman. Joining that group a tad later were the likes of Shaun Cassidy and Donny Osmond.

But Jones was one of the first to mesmerize the girls; the Monkees were formed in 1965, around the time Beatlemania was gripping our nation.

His British accent was part of his charm, because it stood out from the rest of the group. It gave him a waifish, almost vulnerable aspect to his persona.

The Monkees were carefully crafted. There was the Class Clown (Dolenz); the Goofball (Tork); the Intellectual (Nesmith); and the handsome, delicate front man (Jones).

But it was Jones, without question, who the girls came to see, when the Monkees would go on tour. From 1966-68, when the TV show was on the air, a ticket to a Monkees concert was as hot as anything.

The band (by this time they had removed the shackles placed on them by producers who wanted to limit their musical performances and replace it with studio musicians) continued to record several years after the show was canceled.

The hits were genuine and red hot at the time: "Daydream Believer"; "Last Train to Clarksville" (my personal favorite); "Pleasant Valley Sunday"; and "The Monkees Theme," to name just a few.

Davy Jones, at the height of his heartthrob status

Jones didn't sing lead on all of the hits, but he still managed to be the sexiest tambourine player that any teenaged girl could dream up, when he wasn't crooning.

Jones had performed as recently as February 19. He was always up for Monkees reunions, and participated cheerfully---unlike Nesmith, who for whatever reason has consistently resisted Monkees-related events.

The Monkees each had trivia tidbits about them. Dolenz has a daughter who is an actor; Tork's last name is short for Torkelsen, and he had a brother who was a running back for the Green Bay Packers in the NFL; and Nesmith's mother invented Liquid Paper.

And Jones?

He was an actor before he became a rock star. There was irony to his career.

On February 9, 1964, he appeared with the Broadway cast of Oliver! on The Ed Sullivan Show, the same episode on which The Beatles made their first appearance.

According to Wikipedia, Jones said of that night, "I watched the Beatles from the side of the stage, I saw the girls going crazy, and I said to myself, this is it, I want a piece of that."

He got it, and then some.

As recently as February of 2011, Jones spoke enthusiastically of a possible Monkees USA and UK tour. His reasoning was brilliantly simple.

"You're always hearing all those great songs on the radio, in commercials, movies, almost everywhere."

I know what Jones meant. To this day, I get excited when "Clarksville" comes on the radio.

Time Magazine contributor James Poniewozik summed up Jones and the Monkees thusly: "Whatever Jones and The Monkees were meant to be, they became creative artists in their own right, and Jones’ chipper Brit-pop presence was a big reason they were able to produce work that was commercial, wholesome and yet impressively weird."

Impressively weird. That may not be a compliment when spoken of others, but it's dead on accurate when it comes to the Monkees. They may have started as a gimmick, but they ended as a legitimate part of rock-and-roll history.

Thanks largely to that tiny little Brit with the mop head.

Li-Lo, the Homebody?

2012-02-28T17:12:00.001-05:00

Only time will tell if Lindsay Lohan will continue down the road of the straight and narrow.

That's how it works with the addict, the abuser, the dependent. There's no other way to evaluate the progress than to sit back and wait.

Lohan, maybe the oldest 25-year-old in Hollywood history, went on the "Today" show and told host Matt Lauer that she's clean and sober and a "homebody."

The fast life and the drugs and alcohol don't appeal to her anymore, she told Lauer.

The interview will air Thursday morning, but MSNBC previewed it via Today.com.

"That's not my thing anymore," Lohan said. "I went out, actually, a few months ago with a friend. And I was so uncomfortable. Not because I felt tempted, just because it was just the same thing that it always was before. And it just wasn't fun for me. I've become more of a homebody. And I like that."

Lohan is 25 and who knows what else she can do right now to make money, other than to act.

She's hosting "Saturday Night Live" this weekend and certainly her motivation to go on "Today" is that it's a great vehicle on which to tell not only fans, but---and more importantly, frankly---TV and movie producers that she's fit to hire.

Lohan's interview with Lauer is just that---an interview, as in for a job.

With platinum blonde hair, Lohan looks good in a black dress as she explains to Lauer that, after being in denial, she's ready to start proving herself all over again.

Lauer asked her point blank: How can those with the power to hire, trust you again?

"I think that that's gonna take -- I think that takes time," Lohan said. "And I think that it's actions. Because people can say things all they want, but I think I still need to go through the process of proving myself, you know, with 'SNL,' being on time, being, you know, keeping my -- can't say the word -- but stuff together."

Lindsay Lohan, the blonde and clean and sober version

It's all very mature, lucid stuff coming from someone who's been anything but for the better part of the past seven years, at least.

The proving ground starts with Lohan's next role. And it's an ironic one: Elizabeth Taylor.

It's like what Marilyn Monroe once said of co-star Monty Clift, when they were filming "The Misfits" in 1960.

"(Clift)'s the only person I know who's more screwed up than me," Monroe said.

The notion of Lohan playing Taylor, who was an off-screen drama queen in her own right, is delectable. Yet that's where Lohan's road to professional recovery is about to begin, after her turn on "SNL" this Saturday.

Lohan knows that one clean job doesn't a comeback make, no matter how much she shines in the Taylor project.

"I don't want people to have that reason to be scared anymore," she tells Lauer. "So being able to have this opportunity with 'SNL' and the film, I'm gonna do what I'm supposed to do, and enjoy doing it, and do it as best as I can."

Lohan isn't out of the woods yet. The fact that she acknowledges that is a step in the right direction, albeit a baby one.

Blue Bananas, Anyone?

2012-02-23T16:48:00.004-05:00

Let me pose a question for you, survey style.

Should I ask bananas to change their color from yellow to blue? Because I like blue so much better, and I think they'd be prettier that way.

Vote now: yes or no, and why.

What, you say? That's a ridiculous question? What do you mean, bananas can't change color? Really? No matter how hard I try, and no matter how many of you agree with me?

Wayne County Commissioner Kevin McNamara (D-Canton) is the latest to scratch for his 15 minutes, in the ongoing saga of Wayne County Executive Bob Ficano, aka The Little Italian General.

It's Irish on Italian crime, just like the old days in the Bowery.

McNamara sent an e-mail out to thousands of his constituents in western Wayne County, posing this to them (verbatim): "Government cannot endure without some form of trust among the elected officials and by the taxpayers who voted for them. A vote may be forced upon the Wayne County Commission to ask County Executive Robert Ficano to resign. Complete a one-minute survey and comment."

Ficano is the yellow banana here. And McNamara wants to know if his constituents should ask their commissioner to ask Ficano to turn blue.

Kevin McNamara

The survey is a great way to get some media attention, which McNamara certainly has. But its results are destined to be pretty much moot.

You see, there's no provision in the County Charter that allows the Commission to remove Ficano from office, no matter how hard they try or how much they want to.

So why solicit responses for something that isn't possible?

"My feeling is, quite frankly, I would like us not to vote," McNamara told the Free Press. "As mad as I am at him, I haven't seen that he's done anything illegal. But I want to know what the people in my area think."

Maybe McNamara is still "mad" over the leaked video of his alcohol-related traffic stop from last year, which may have come from someone inside Ficano's inner circle.

It's also an election year for the Commission. Ahh--NOW we may be on to something.

Commissioners Laura Cox (R-Livonia) and Bernard Parker (D-Detroit) have already gone public, but at least they've actually called for Ficano's resignation, sans surveys.

Not sure what McNamara's end game is here. It's toe-dipping into warm water. Not surprisingly, per his Facebook page, response was running about 70-30 for Ficano to resign. But some of the comments expressed frustration with the survey.

"Kevin just do it," one person commented.

Yeah, enough already!

Trouble is, there's really nothing to do.

Stuck at the bottom of the Free Press story was this: McNamara said the Wayne County Charter has no provision for the commission to remove the executive, so any vote would be advisory at best.

But if three commissioners request a meeting to debate a resolution calling for his resignation, the meeting would have to be held, the story says.

But Ficano isn't resigning, and the Commission can't make him.

In fact, I'd put the chances of the Little Italian General abdicating his throne at about the same as, say, bananas turning blue.

But thanks for asking, Kevin.

Not-So-Sloppy Seconds

2012-02-21T16:43:00.002-05:00

As much as I would have liked to have seen Eddie Murphy do a turn, there's something wonderfully comfortable about having Billy Crystal to fall back on.

I'm referring to the Academy Awards, which take place this Sunday. Crystal, the actor/comedian/director, will host, as he's done so many times before.

But Billy wasn't the first choice this time.

The Academy wanted to go with Murphy as a first-time host, but not long after inking him, the show's producer, Brett Ratner---a chum of Eddie's who was instrumental in getting him the Oscar gig---quit, and a day after that, so did Murphy.

I was totally on board with the notion of Murphy escorting us through the sometimes interminable broadcast, but like I said---Crystal isn't a bad second choice.

Oh, how many funny moments Crystal has given us as Oscar host---some of them occurring in the show's opening montage.

Crystal, with the best co-star he's ever had not named Jack Palance

But one that sticks out is when the Academy honored longtime silent movie producer/director Hal Roach, 100 years young, in 1992.

Crystal pointed Roach out in the crowd, and the centenarian stood and started to speak. Unfortunately, the theater's sound system didn't pick up his words for broadcast.

Without missing a beat, and displaying his God-given ability at comedic timing, Crystal deadpanned, "I think that's fitting, after all — Mr. Roach started in silent film..."

It was one of Oscar's funniest moments. You can see it here.

There have been many more bouts of laughter, with Crystal at the helm, and no doubt there will be even more added to the list this Sunday.

So it's not a bad thing that Eddie Murphy isn't going to make his Oscar hosting debut---not when you have an old pro like Crystal ready to yuk it up.

Billy Crystal, who never really found his footing as a film star in any movie without "City Slickers" in the title, is clearly much better poking fun at the industry than he is at being in it.

We can't be good at everything, after all. Crystal has his niche, and that's more than a lot of his brethren can say.

I Got It, You Take It

2012-02-16T16:23:00.003-05:00

It's often used in the world of sports, the notion of "doesn't anybody want to win this thing?"

Typically, scribes and observers will say that about a baseball pennant race or some other competition in which the players or teams involved appear to be more insistent on losing and screwing up than actually winning.

The Michigan GOP Primary is nearing, and the two front-runners are stumbling over themselves to crow how they would NOT have authorized a bailout of the Big 3 automakers if they were president.

This on the heels of news that GM just announced a 2011 profit of $7.6 billion. Profit sharing checks are upwards of $7,000 for giddy GM employees.

Yet here are Mitt Romney and Rick Santorum sweeping into the state, trying to out shout the other about how against the bailout they still are.

It's a rather strange strategy, to say the least.

Usually politicos are wont to crow their "I told you so" stance. It's a tried and true method of making yourself look good to voters---to be able to puff out your chest and tell everyone, "If only you had listened to ME, we wouldn't be in this mess."

But when the results of your stance are proven to be wrong/misguided, wouldn't you just want to shut up about it? Or, at the very least in this case, eat some humble pie and feel good for the car industry?

If Romney looks weary here, it's probably because he's been expending a lot of energy double and triple-talking his way around the auto industry bailout situation

Romney and Santorum, however, don't see it that way, apparently.

Romney is more egregious, as he's done some verbal gymnastics in trying to explain his 2008 column in the New York Times. The one entitled, "Let Detroit Go Bankrupt."

Yeah, that one.

But Romney has not only explained it, he's re-defended it. Amidst all sorts of facts suggesting that he was dead wrong. His "solution" of a "managed bankruptcy" has very few, if any, people with industry and financial knowledge on board with him. Some have described it as laughable, given the state of the economy in 2008.

Again, strange strategy heading into a primary in---MICHIGAN.

Especially when you're trailing your opponent by four points, in the latest Detroit News poll (34-30, to Santorum).

What's next for these GOPers? Some caustic remarks about corn just before traveling to Nebraska? Decrying the movie industry on their way to California?

Romney is airing some TV ads that show him driving around Metro Detroit, waxing nostalgic about his childhood. He talks about going to the Auto Show with his dad. Then he makes an about face and openly wonders, "How could this great industry get itself into such a fix?"

Romney has it wrong. It's not about how the Big 3 got into the mess (that's a whole other story), it's the success story of how they got out of it. But I can see why Romney doesn't want to harp on that, because he was against the eventually successful solution. And he's still against it, and would be against it again.

Santorum told the Economic Club of Detroit today that he wouldn't have bailed the Big 3 out, either. Good for him.

Don't either of these guys want to win here?

Whitney

2012-02-14T14:51:00.002-05:00

In the wake of the news of Whitney Houston's death, you've heard a lot of folks say that we've lost "the voice."

It's true, that Houston, the pop superstar who died at age 48 on Saturday, was an immense talent; certainly the best female voice of her generation. I know I'll get some argument there, but I don't care. The woman could belt it out, and her rendition of the National Anthem at the 1991 Super Bowl was as perfect as that song can be sung.

But I squirm a little when "the voice" is discussed as being hushed now in her death, because have we really had Whitney Houston's true voice in recent years?

And by recent years, I mean about ten.

It's not as if Houston was singing like it was the late-1980s and early-1990s, right?

Far from it.

I saw a clip of Houston a couple years ago, trying to deliver us those pipes, and to me that was the real tragedy---not what happened Saturday in the Beverly Hills Hilton.

Houston's physical form died on Saturday, but her voice had been killed off years before, thanks to the usual talent snuffer of alcohol and drugs.

I imagine reaction to her death was similar to that of Marilyn Monroe's, back in 1962. There was shock, of course, but that was quickly followed by a feeling of fait accompli.

It's like what I wrote about Michael Jackson after his death in 2009: did you really envision seeing Houston live to the ripe age of 70 or 80?

That would have been terrific, of course, because it would have meant that the drugs and alcohol would have been licked. But I didn't hold out much hope for that; I don't know about you.

So the words, "Whitney Houston, dead at age 48," just don't hold much shock value for me, as awful as it is for someone to perish that young.

The details of the circumstances of Houston's death are still trickling in, but we seem to be able to agree that she took some---what else---drugs and alcohol and settled in for a bath. Then she apparently drifted into sleep (wonder why?) and after that, we're not sure. Could be heart attack, could be drowning. Not sure.

Reports are conflicted as to the nature of her behavior in the days leading to her death. Some say she was cheerful and happy. Others have called her behavior "erratic." Again, not sure.

The only thing you're ever really sure about in these kinds of mysterious deaths is that the person is, in fact, deceased. Speculation then runs rampant.

Had she lived for 20-30 more years, maybe Whitney Houston would have rescued at least some of her voice. But I really don't care about that. We had it and we can always relive it through recordings, YouTube, etc.

I would have liked to have seen a sober Houston recovered from the drugs and the drinking, perhaps further pursuing a movie career, or acting as an advocate for others struggling with addiction.

I would have liked to have seen her host a talk show or become a spokesperson of some sort.

I had given up on her singing career. The voice was gone years ago.

I'd have liked to have seen any of these things, of course, rather than her being buried this week.

The great tragedy of Whitney Houston isn't just that she wasted her singing talents. It's that she then blew any chance of having a second, even more fulfilling life that likely would have influenced even more people than she touched with her singing voice.

So yeah, sad.

A New Day Dawning?

2012-02-09T17:20:00.002-05:00

The barn door is being shut at the Wayne County offices---and before all the horses are out.

I've been critical of what's been happening at the County under The Little Italian General, Bob Ficano---but then again, who in their right mind hasn't been?

Who in their right mind wouldn't be disgusted by the largesse and hubris that has been flaunted at 500 Griswold, as the administration initially responded with nose thumbing at taxpayers?

Who wouldn't have been disgusted at the quality of "food" that county seniors were being served as Meals on Wheels looked to cut costs, while cronyism and inflated paychecks for do-nothing appointments ran rampant?

Who wouldn't have cast a cross eye at Ficano and his toadies while they asked for union concessions on one hand and greased the palms of other less deserving hands at the same time?

So I wasn't the Lone Ranger in my disgust, and having worked for the County Commission in 2010, the impropriety hit even closer to home, because much of it was stuff I and others tried to spoon feed the media, who weren't biting.

Then along came Turkia Mullin and The Severance Heard 'Round the World, and suddenly the bandwagon of Ficano critics was bursting at the seams.

If it's really true that it's darkest before the dawn, then I'm happy to report that I see a speck of the sunrise over yonder.

The County Commission, which has taken a lot of heat for not knowing of which it is supposed to be checking and balancing, is hard at work at making sure that Ficano and his administration---and indeed, future County Executive administrations---are reined in.

You can look at the Commission with a sour puss all you want, but as I have been told by a Commission insider, it's not as simple as I and others have made it out to be, when it comes to assigning blame for the lack of oversight.

Was the Commission maybe too trusting of past administrations, setting a precedent of misguided trust? Probably. Did the Commission expect to be flat out lied to? Probably not.

I'm told that in the matter of Mullin, the former Economic Development Director for the County, the Commission only knew of one Executive Compensation Plan.

Ficano and Mullin, in happier and less investigative times

Here's a portion of an e-mail sent to me regarding Mullin's deal, sent from someone inside the Commission: "The [Executive Compensation Plan], the one the Commission operates from, is the only one that we knew existed. We had no idea that they had secret contracts giving compensation outside the plan?? How would we know?? The dollars were coming from their own lump some budgets, and they hadn't even been allocated yet. Mullin was the first. Once her deal was exposed we forced repayment and asked them if any other such deals existed and they lied right to our faces, on the record!!!!"

Since Severance-Gate, ordinances have been passed, an ethics policy is in its final stages, and the Commission is continuing to ramp up the pressure on the administration. My insider tells me that, when all is said and done, the County will be "bullet proof."

To wit: the Commission's new Ethics Policy, which has much more bite than the one the Administration is trying to cobble together in order to police itself, includes a third party Ethics Review Panel, referrals of criminal activity to the Prosecutor, and fines for unethical behavior (i.e. failure to disclose inappropriate dealings, acceptance of gifts, etc.).

Yes, there are still some horses that didn't escape the Wayne County Barn. Looks like the County Commission is determined to make sure they don't.

Good for them--and for the County taxpayers.

Heeeeeeere's 30 Years!

2012-02-02T12:37:00.000-05:00

The first guest was Bill Murray. That much I know.

Unlike Johnny Carson, David Letterman hasn't ever made too much of anniversaries. Letterman's "Late Night" show doesn't, anymore, do any prime-time specials, as Carson would do every October to celebrate another year on the air with "Tonight."

So it flew under the radar, big time---the 30th anniversary of Letterman on late night television, which was celebrated, in a very low-key style, last night.

That's right---30 years.

As a point of reference, that's even longer than Carson did "Tonight" (debuted October 1, 1962 and last show was May 22, 1992).

Hard to believe, eh?

Letterman's first foray into hosting a talk show came in the mornings on NBC, and didn't last very long. At all. But he was one of the lucky ones who got another shot, taking his quirky act to late night, where it played much better.

Murray was Letterman's very first guest in February 1982, and he would frequently be invited back every February thereafter, like a recurring birthday guest.

Letterman never went head-to-head against Carson, because their time slots were never the same (Letterman started at 1:00 a.m. in 1982). Only after Carson retired did Letterman move into his now current 11:35 pm slot.

There has been much made of Letterman wanting to follow Johnny in the "Tonight" host's chair after Carson retired. That job, of course, went to Jay Leno.

It will always be an unfulfilled desire, for Letterman, who will likely never be the host of the "Tonight Show." But it's also likely that his desire for that job has waned.

One thing Letterman does have in common with Carson is his intense desire for privacy, and his almost refusal to hang out with his guests outside of the show. You don't see photos of Letterman, really, other than on the set of his talk show. He's not a mingler. He doesn't do the party scene.

Any social relationships Letterman has with those he interviews are kept very hush-hush, if they exist at all.

Just like Carson, who would participate in poker games and the like, but those hardly ever got reported.

David Letterman and his gap-toothed grin have been gracing late night television for 30 years. Yet it's hardly celebrated, and the fact that he's been doing it longer than Carson did "Tonight" is barely a footnote.

But given how much reverence Letterman has for Carson, maybe Dave would like to keep that little factoid mostly for himself.

Husband of Interest

2012-01-31T12:10:00.003-05:00

It won't be too much longer, I would imagine, before we find out what happened to Jane Bashara, along with the how and the why.

The Grosse Pointe marketing executive whose body was found in her vehicle miles from her home has been dominating local news since she was strangled (police say) last week.

Today, investigators shared some more of their theories.

Bashara was likely killed in her home, investigators say. And, the killer likely had an accomplice.

More details keep seeping out---like the little one about husband Bob Bashara having a girlfriend, and that he was reportedly trying to buy said girlfriend a house.

And the whispers that the Basharas' marriage was "on the rocks."

And that Bob Bashara failed a polygraph test, according to sources.

And that his account of where he was the day/night of his wife's apparent murder doesn't jibe with what police believe happened.

And that Bob Bashara's business owed more than $10,000 in back taxes.

So you can see that the likelihood of Jane Bashara being set upon by a stranger in her home, at random, then strangled and her body driven several miles away, is almost farcical.

Another wife gets bumped off.

Bob and Jane Bashara

I'm tired of men killing their wives. They ever hear of divorce? The wife gets to live and the husband gets to not spend the rest of his life in jail. Seems like a win/win to me.

Because it's not like these hubbies are out there committing the perfect murders. They almost always get caught relatively soon, sometimes before the funeral has even taken place (Jane Bashara's was today). And if not soon, they're usually caught eventually.

The Bashara case might be one of someone being hired to kill the wife. It's unclear whether Bob Bashara's alibi will hold up.

Regardless, she's dead, he's the lone "person of interest" and how much do you want to bet that the police break this wide open before the end of next week?

What's a little unusual about the Bashara case is that members of both sides of the family contend that Bob, nicknamed "Big Bob," was incapable of committing such an atrocity.

Incapable? Really?

Is anyone---and I mean anyone---truly "incapable" of taking another's life? What if an argument escalated into physical contact? Don't people "lose it" all the time and lash out physically?

Of course, no one wants to think that those close to them are capable of murder. How creepy would that be?

And I understand why no one in the Bashara family---from both sides of the aisle, if you will---wants to think that "Big Bob" could kill anyone, much less his own wife.

But no one is truly incapable of behavior of the worst kind. Some are just more capable than others, and vice-versa.

Somewhere in these facts and details that keep tumbling out lies the truth about what happened to Jane Bashara, how it happened, and why.

And, sadly, it's likely that the trail of suspicion and detection will land at "Big Bob's" doorstep.

As usual.

Close Enough

2012-01-27T10:58:00.004-05:00

OK, it's getting ridiculous now, the range of actress Glenn Close.

Is there any character that she can't, or won't, play?

Not satisfied with playing a wide range of women, Close is now branching out to the other gender---sort of.

Close is now dazzling us in "Albert Nobbs," where she plays the title character: an attendant in a well-appointed 19th-Century Dublin hotel. The work has earned her an Oscar nomination for Best Actress.

But there's more to it. Nobbs is a woman disguised as a man. Yes, "Victor/Victoria" comes to mind, though "Nobbs" is no comedic farce.

The idea of one gender pretending to be another for some sort of personal gain isn't new, of course. Flat out comedies like "Some Like it Hot" to reflective films like "Yentl" have used the device.

But "Nobbs" is different. It's based on a short story by an Irish novelist, and according to a story in today's Free Press has been a passion of Close's since she won an Obie for playing the role in 1982.

Glenn Close as "Albert Nobbs", which earned her an Oscar nomination, her sixth

It's not enough to merely throw on the other sex's clothing, sit in a make-up chair for several hours and report to work on the set. Anyone can do that. Close's Oscar nomination is proof that she not only can look like a man, she can make an emotional connection to one as well.

The transgender role on film has often been equated with social outcast, and that's the same in "Nobbs." Albert isn't just playing dress-up, after all.

I first became aware of Glenn Close in 1983's "The Big Chill," where she played Kevin Kline's wife. Four years later, she terrified most men in the acclaimed thriller "Fatal Attraction."

Since then, Close has just about run the gamut when it comes to the women she's played, both from an emotional and historical standpoint.

So not satisfied with playing women any longer, looks like Close is setting her sights on playing men, though Albert Nobbs is a woman pretending to be a man. Still, for most of the film she is, for all intents and purposes, a man.

It can be argued that Close and Meryl Streep are the two greatest female actors in film today. It can also be argued that it's been that way for the better part of the past two decades.

But Close, despite five Oscar nominations prior to her latest one for "Albert Nobbs," has yet to win the gold statue. Streep has an astounding 17 Oscar nominations, including two wins.

Close is 64; Streep is 62. Their careers have virtually run parallel to each other.

But Meryl Streep hasn't played a man---yet.

Nature or Plastic?

2012-01-19T15:54:00.004-05:00

Lesley Visser, the statuesque, longtime correspondent for CBS Sports, was on my TV screen last weekend. And I barely recognized her.

She had that "look" about her. The one that has, more and more, vexed both male and female celebrities---though more female than male.

The "look" is what we'll refer to here as "the Joan Rivers Syndrome."

You know---plastic surgery gone wild.

WHY are so many people in the entertainment industry who appear on stage or in front of the camera allowing butchers to take to their face?

The results aren't pretty---literally.

Lesley Visser, I thought, was an attractive woman in her 50s who was aging quite well---and naturally. Yes, she had a jogging accident in 2006 which required some surgery to her face, but what I saw last weekend as she did some pre-game NFL playoff work, was above and beyond the call of duty, so to speak.

She's hardly alone.

Even Marie Osmond---yes, Kewpie doll-cute Marie Osmond---looks to have gone under the knife. And I thought her Mormon beliefs would have forbade such work.

The Joan Rivers Syndrome is hard to pinpoint. You can tell that someone who's afflicted with the Syndrome has had something done, but you can't quite narrow it down to anything specific. Rather, the entire face has an unnatural puffiness to it. The eyes are more almond shaped. The lips are thicker. The skin has a smoothness to it that makes it resemble something that the folks at Madame Tussauds came up with, using their magic wax.

The Syndrome victims look, at the same time, like they went 15 rounds in a boxing ring, and had their face ironed. It's a strange combination, which is why it looks so grotesque.

I don't know why those who opt for plastic surgery think the "after" looks better than the "before." In fact, the "after" makes them look like they are suffering from some sort of glandular disease.

THIS is why I named it Joan Rivers Syndrome

Dolly Parton, who has a new movie out with Queen Latifah, also has Joan Rivers Syndrome (heck, let's start calling it JRS for short).

Heather Locklear, another one.

And on and on.

Wayne Newton, among the men, maybe looks the creepiest nowadays. How ironic, for if anyone has a job for life in the entertainment industry, it's Wayne-o. Yet he opted to have his face reconstructed, and when I saw him last year on "Dancing With the Stars," I was appalled. Even natural facial expressions like smiling looked weird, thanks to JRS.

The worst part is that the plastic surgery can't be undone. Once the knife is lowered, its work is oh-so-permanent. And for the worse.

Give me the celebrity who chooses to let nature take its course, rather than the one who causes you to want DNA to prove their identity.

Oh, if you want to look at some more plastic surgery catastrophes, click HERE. Good luck.

Wild Pitch

2012-01-12T17:42:00.004-05:00

Whatever happened to Mr. Belvedere? Or Marilyn Turner, hawking Carpet Center?

How about Bob Allison for Bobson Construction?

Remember Mel Farr and his cape, "flying" through the skies over Metro Detroit, promising a "Farr better deal" on Ford cars?

Or the Metro Detroit Ford Dealers commercials, which always featured sports celebrities, including all the Detroit sports team coaches at one time or another?

I'm still wondering if anyone got five pounds of free coffee from Ollie Fretter for finding a deal that he couldn't beat.

I can still see the homely face of Irving Nussbaum of New York Carpet World, with his tag line, "The BETTER carpet people!"

The company pitchman, in Detroit, has often been more well-known than the product being sold.

I should know; I work for one.

Brian Elias, my boss at 1-800-HANSONS, is one of the last of a dying breed, along with Gordie over at ABC Warehouse.

Elias and Gordie are among the last of the combination company owner/pitchman, which used to be a staple around these parts.

Elias is perhaps more well-known than his product---windows, doors, roofs and gutters---or at the very least, as well-known.

Gordie, of ABC Warehouse, has a company slogan to rival the "Get It Done" of Hansons': "The closest thing to wholesale." And his bespectacled, mustached face is enough to make people do double-takes when they see him.

Car salesmen have always made good pitchmen.

Not just Farr, the former Lions running back-turned Ford dealership owner; how about Walt Lazar (Chevrolet, "The super, super dealer"), who used to be seen "conducting" an off-screen orchestra playing his theme song?

Ollie Fretter

An iconic campaign of radio commercials belonged to Gene Merollis, another Chevy dealer. The ads consisted of brief jokes between a set-up man and "Mr. Merollis." Each spot ended the same way.

"That Merollis, what a great, great guyyyyyy!"

I heard those spots a billion times on the old CKLW-AM "Super 8" station back in the 1970s.

Today we have Elias, Gordie, and Bill Bonds and William Shatner, two actors pushing law firms.

After that, not so much when it comes to local pitchmen.

Then again, most of the products being sold anymore are either beer, prescription drugs or cars---all at the national level.

Commercials aren't as fun anymore.

Unearned Parting Gifts

2012-01-10T17:26:00.005-05:00

Since when does being a member of a studio audience entitle one to be showered with gifts?

Shows all over the dial, from "The View" to "Dr. Phil" to "Ellen," are treating their audiences like they're all Queens for a Day.

It's gotten out of hand, all the gift-giving. It started several years ago with every member of the audience getting a copy of whatever book or DVD was being hawked that day.

Then it morphed, to where we are now, where audiences leave with so much loot that they'll need to hire another tax guy.

It's not just books and DVDs anymore; audiences are now receiving small appliances, electronic gadgets, and even all-expenses paid trips.

To which, of course, are met with screams and wildness, which I can also do without.

And here's the rub---audiences for talk shows don't pay admission. Not one penny. Yet they leave like thieves.

Tickets are always free, and used to be gobbled up by tourists and vacationers, because the shows are typically taped in glitzy places like New York and Hollywood. Sometimes, those folks were simply happy to be in some air conditioning, away from the summer's heat.

Now, I get the feeling audiences deliberately travel to studios expecting to be lavished with gifts.

Who can blame them?

I find this offensive because: a) I'm never going to be in a studio audience, barring something incredibly unforeseen, so therefore I'm jealous; and b) why does putting your fanny in a seat for free entitle you to spoils?

"What do I get? What do i get?"

Of course, most of these giveaways are simply part of a marketing plan, which places DVDs and books and such in the hands of people who might not have purchased them otherwise.

I get that.

But what's with the trips and the gadgets and the other niceties?

Then I think of the poor souls who appear on game shows like "Jeopardy" and "Wheel of Fortune" who actually have to DO something to earn their wares, like work their brains off.

Meanwhile, Jane Doe gets a brand new iPhone and a trip to Las Vegas, simply for walking into the studio and sitting down.

Just doesn't seem right.

Yeah, I'm jealous. And also perplexed.

Buzzer Beater?

2012-01-05T17:40:00.003-05:00

Detroit, once upon a time, was a bustling, thriving city---an international port with industry coming out of its ears. They made cars in Detroit, and better than anyone else. But Detroit also was a huge component to the WWII effort---building tanks and other items of importance.

It was a riverfront city with a brand new convention complex (Cobo) built by 1960 and was even considered as a host city for the Olympics. President Kennedy, no less, appeared on film, making the case for Detroit to host the Games, which was shown to the selection committee.

Detroit had well over a million people living within its boundaries. It was a media market that was just a notch below the New Yorks and LAs of the country. It wasn't unusual for Detroit on-air talent to vamoose to New York, with no stops in between.

But now?

Detroit is crumbling. Its infrastructure is a joke. The money is gone. It's a city that can't adequately protect its citizens, pick up the trash on time, or change a busted street light without a month of Sundays going by.

The financial crisis going on in the city is both a tragedy and a mystery. Tragedy because a once great city is tattered and torn; mysterious because it's a wonder how we got here, to this degree.

The enormously frustrating thing is that, whether suburbanites want to admit it or not, the fate of Detroit greatly impacts that of the entire state of Michigan.

Can there be a strong Michigan without a strong Detroit? Yes, but not likely, and it would be oh-so-much more difficult to pull off.

Can Detroit be strong and the state not be? Yes, but also not very likely---though it has happened throughout history.

Governor Rick Snyder, to his credit, isn't a Republican who thinks his state can operate independently from Detroit, as if the city exists in a plastic bubble.

But that doesn't mean there isn't the usual contentiousness between City Council and anyone who works and plays outside the city borders.

Especially politico types.

Bing: Working against a fast-running clock

But time has never been running out on Detroit as it is now. It's so appropriate that the mayor is an ex-NBA star. Dave Bing is used to working against a short shot clock.

He needs to hoist a desperation three point shot at the buzzer.

No, it's not terribly brilliant or clever to make basketball analogies.

But can you think of a better one?

Detroit is on life support. How tragic. And mysterious.

Cruise Control

2011-12-29T02:52:00.003-05:00

Tom Cruise has certainly tried many milieus as an actor.

He's done romance, suspense, comedy-drama, avant garde, you name it.

Now Cruise, 49, is in yet another "Mission: Impossible" movie, this one called "Ghost Protocol."

I got to thinking about Cruise's career as I've been seeing trailers for his latest "M:I" movie pass through my TV.

The action/adventure genre---and that's certainly what the "Mission" movies are categorized---would seem to infer that the star doesn't have to do much acting. Indeed, in so many of them, that's been the case.

It's tempting, to me, to suggest that the acting talents of Tom Cruise are wasted when it comes to the "Mission" films.

Cruise was never better than he was in "A Few Good Men" and the iconic "Jerry Maguire"---that I think will elicit very little argument.

But in the "Mission" movies, there's an increasing amount of jumping and free-falling and diving and running, and you begin to wonder: is there any acting?

There certainly doesn't really need to be any, much less from anyone of Cruise's abilities.

There have been several action/adventure franchises. "Die Hard" comes to mind immediately. In none of them has the acting by the lead been anything remotely close to Academy Award level.

Cruise's talents are wasted on the "Mission" films but at least he hasn't buttonholed himself into the genre, like Bruce Willis did some 20 years ago. And Willis isn't the actor that Cruise is.

Cruise running (what else) in the latest "Mission: Impossible" film

Name me a so-called action/adventure "star" who has the diversity and filmography that Tom Cruise possesses.

In fact, it would be terribly unfair to even call Cruise an action/adventure star, because he's so much more.

Yet with this latest installment of "Mission: Impossible" eye candy for the holidays, and with any subsequent movie in the franchise---which is now about 15 years from its original---Cruise is getting closer aligned with the action/adventure genre.

Not that the "Mission" movies are all he's doing.

Next year, Cruise will appear in "Rock of Ages," which is set in 1987 Los Angeles and centers around a young couple chasing their dreams. Then it's Cruise as Jack Reacher, a homicide detective, in "One Shot," slated for late 2012 or early 2013.

But for now it's another installment of "Mission," and by all accounts this is the best of the bunch.

How much acting Tom Cruise really does in it, is up for conjecture. Not that it matters. It's eye candy for the masses---a break from real thespian duties.

Sometimes you gotta give the people what they want, right?

Butt He Should Know Better

2011-12-22T15:42:00.003-05:00

Congressman Jim Sensenbrenner has battled Democrats and those within his own party. He's seen the worst of legislative gridlock, just like all his colleagues. He is no stranger to tumult.

But Rep. Sensenbrenner (R-WI) hasn't likely ever come up against a group like the one he's mixing it up with now.

Women.

Sensenbrenner has succeeded in offending women of all shapes and sizes---especially those who aren't runway model, thin as a rail types---in his comments about the, um, "posterior" of Michelle Obama.

Yes, First Lady Michelle Obama.

Sensenbrenner, it seems, is offended that Mrs. Obama has a healthy food agenda for America's children. He looks at the First Lady as government personified---big government, specifically.

So Sensenbrenner did the very short-sighted, small-thinking thing and tried to use Mrs. Obama's own posterior against her.

"She lectures us on eating right while she has a large posterior herself," Sensenbrenner was overhead saying into a telephone, according to MediaBistro.

This from a man who, as one of my Facebook friends said, "needs an abacus to count his chins."

The disturbing part of Sensenbrenner's clumsy remark isn't even so much about attacking a First Lady, an untoward as that is.

It's the thinly-veiled meaning, which is that women have to look perfect in order to be considered healthy, or on track to make themselves healthy.

Heaven forbid a posterior be a little "large."

It constantly amazes me, these men who are often rotund themselves, casting aspersions on a woman's appearance.

Sensenbrenner, who ironically has the word "sense" start his last name, apparently believes that unless you have a perfect body with the requisite tiny amount of body fat, then you are not qualified or allowed to speak of healthy diet choices for others.

From the Huffington Post account of Sensenbrenner's comments: Michelle has traveled the country for her "Let's Move!" campaign for over a year, talking about healthy eating, promoting a more user-friendly pyramid graphic, getting stores like Walmart to stock their shelves with nutritious items and playing sports with kids.

But none of this advocating is OK, according to Sensenbrenner's line of thinking, because the First Lady's butt is too big.

Horsepucky.

The decidedly unfit Rep. Sensenbrenner

Aside from the flawed thinking that Sensenbrenner is displaying, is the brazen verbal attack on not only another man's wife---but the president's wife.

But all that is sure to be trumped by the deluge of e-mails and phone calls that Rep. Sensenbrenner's office is sure to be contending with, probably as you're reading this.

Those folks will be, in the vast majority, female.

And they won't be happy, nor quiet.

If Sensenbrenner, at his age, doesn't know enough to not trifle with a woman's age or weight, then it's amazing he got anywhere in life.

Well, he's about to find out the error of his ways.

A spokesman for his office says the Congressman planned on apologizing to the First Lady.

Something tells me that she'll be a LOT more forgiving than the rest of her gender.

That poor, poor man.

Join the (Towne) Club!

2011-12-15T17:34:00.003-05:00

Towne Club pop isn't dead. Those rumors are greatly exaggerated.

Well, maybe not greatly exaggerated; it's not exactly on every shelf around town.

Or should I have spelled it, towne?

But Towne Club, that distinctly Detroit soft drink, can still be accessed.

Our daughter spotted some at Produce Palace, on Dequindre in Warren.

The bottles aren't the same, bullet thin sized as before. They're 16 oz. now. But it's still Towne Club.

If you're under 30 years of age, you might want to click away. For Towne Club was a staple in the late-1960s, early-to-mid-1970s.

It worked like this.

You bought the pop, in its multitude of varieties, by the case. You could mix and match. The main bottling and distribution center was located on Ryan Road near 1o Mile, if memory serves.

The cases would be purchased and there was a deposit on the case itself---which at the time was a HEAVY wooden thing.

Then you'd bring the empty bottles and the case back, and repeat the process all over again.

Sometime in the 1980s, Towne Club seemed to vanish. Certainly the center on Ryan Road closed. I've not done the research, so there may have been a reason. Regardless, Towne Club pop kind of fell off the radar for quite some time.

Over the past decade, I've seen Towne Club pop up (no pun intended) at select specialty stores; certainly not in any "mainstream" markets like Kroger, Meijer's, etc.

The "new" Towne Club bottle: not as thin as the original

The pop itself wasn't, to me, award-winning, but the varieties were plenty and that was more than you could say about so many of the other soft drinks on the market.

I think what made Towne Club an allure was the process. The whole notion of getting into the car, empty bottles in their cases in tow, and driving to the center to pick out new varieties and bring them back home.

I was a little disappointed when I saw the "new" Towne Club bottle, I must confess. It seems so....fat!

The old bottles could have been fit inside a paper towel roll.

Towne Club pop, I guess, wasn't just a beverage, to so many of us.

It was an experience.

And one that you can still partake in, I'm happy to report.

Driven to Distraction?

2011-12-13T17:19:00.002-05:00

The National Transportation Safety Board has spoken, and there are two ways that you can look at it.

First, here's what they said, according to a story in today's Free Press: "The National Transportation Safety Board says distracted driving has claimed too many lives and made a sweeping recommendation today calling on states to ban the use of portable electronic devices for everyone behind the wheel – even if they have a hands-free device."

In other words, no talking on a cell phone, period. Even if both hands are on the steering wheel.

As promised, here are the two ways to look at this recommendation---which is all it really is, because the states pretty much write their own traffic laws.

First, seems that we all got along just fine for decades without talking to people on phones inside our cars. It's not so much that we have to talk---but that we can. So, we do.

Second, I think the NTSB should extend their recommendation to other distractions that I have seen, like the application of makeup, shaving and eating, among others.

Ask yourself: could YOU give up chatting on a phone in the car? And I mean, cold turkey?

“It may seem like it’s a very quick call, a very quick text, a tweet or an update but accidents happen in the blink of an eye,” Deborah A.P. Hersman, the chairwoman of the NTSB, was quoted in the Free Press story. “We’ve investigated a lot of accidents and we know a lot of times the distraction that’s there is not just about manipulating something.”

There's no question that the number of accidents involving drivers distracted by electronic communication gadgets is increasing. And the incidents aren't limited to the average Joe or Joanne on the road; people in whom we place our trust, like those who are in charge of commuter trains, tugboats and the like, are being distracted by laptops, texting, etc.

In fact, Blogger's spell check just flagged "texting," which is an accepted 21st century word but apparently isn't in their dictionary yet.

So it's an ever-changing world.

The NTSB might be overreacting, but it's hard to make that case when people are dying.

I am just like everyone else. I talk on the phone in the car, while driving. And mine isn't a hands-free model, either.

And I've looked down to change a CD or reach for a beverage.

So far, I've been lucky that none of those actions have resulted in me getting into a wreck.

If the states began implementing bans on devices, period, whether they were hands-free or not, I know there'd be an adjustment I'd have to make. It seems so natural, anymore, to pick up the phone and dial my wife or home. But, frankly, most of those conversations are mundane and can occur after I get home.

Safe and sound.

Goin' to the Coffee Shop, and....

2011-12-08T17:12:00.003-05:00

I'm certainly not what you would call the most religious person in the world, though I do proclaim myself to be a Catholic---just not a card-carrying one.

I also don't consider myself a prude, though I like to think that I know right from wrong.

But one thing that gets stuck in my craw is the uneasiness I feel when couples get married in less-than-regal venues.

You've read and seen the stories.

Scuba enthusiasts getting married underwater, etc.

Now comes the very-21st century story of Oklahoma couple Eva McCarthy Capparello and Carmine Capparello.

The two met online in 2008 (very 21st century, as I said), and grew to know each other over cups of coffee at Starbucks (EXTREMELY 21st century).

That's fine, and cute and endearing.

Why does this kind of scene make me frown?

But they decided to tie the knot at, you guessed it, the local Starbucks.

Why does this bother me so?

I suppose it's my maybe-stuffy belief that marriage is sacrosanct and should be entered into accordingly.

Doesn't seem, to me, that marrying in a coffee shop is appropriate.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not judging this Oklahoma couple. They're in love, and frankly, that love should trump all, anyway.

And I know that not everyone believes in God or cares much about a wedding's venue.

I guess what troubles me is the notion that a couple who marries in such a wacky environment may not understand the seriousness of the act in which they are about to undergo.

How much respect can they have for a marriage that was presided over in front of bags of coffee beans and frothing machines?

But that's just me.

I wish nothing but the best for our Oklahoman, caffeine-enriched love birds. Truly.

With the divorce rate what it has been, I admit that church-based weddings haven't always panned out, either.

But the younger set already seems to have lost so much of the respect for tradition and what had been so sacred, that when I read of "stunt" weddings like the one in Oklahoma, I squirm.

Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe these two newlyweds will be married for decades, happily.

I can only hope.

Oh, Woman of Troy!

2011-12-06T17:40:00.003-05:00

I can save myself a bunch of typing today and just send you over to the Detroit News' Laura Berman's wonderful column about the bull-in-a-china shop mayor of Troy, but sometimes you just want to take your crack at something, even if, in this case, Berman knocked it out of the park.

Berman's piece should be a must-read. She perfectly captures the clumsiness of the "honorable" Janice Daniels, Troy's new mayor, whose off-the-cuff Facebook post in June about gay marriage in New York came back to bite her in the tush.

By now you're likely up to speed on this, but here goes anyway.

Daniels, in June, voiced her displeasure over the new gay marriage law in New York state with this pithy comment on her Facebook page: "I think I'm going to throw away my I Love New York carrying bag now that queers can get married there."

The incendiary remark occurred before Daniels was elected mayor, which happened just weeks ago. And she initially tried to use that non-mayor status as defense of her unalienable free speech rights, once the posting was uncovered and then went viral, as things tend to do these days, for better or for worse.

In this case, it was for the better and for the worse.

Daniels has been exposed, and that's the better part. The worse part, of course, is that she's still Troy's mayor.

The troubling part of Daniels' gaffe---and that's probably an understatement---is not the slur itself, but her reaction to it once it saw the light of day.

She hasn't really owned up to the posting, balancing out every word of semi-apology with annoying words in defense of her indefensible wording.

She released a statement that reminded us that "queer" is a "dictionary word."

Yeah, and so are a number of other words that shouldn't be used in public, which Facebook is, folks.

She also trotted out the wince-inducing "defense" that it's OK to use "queer" because, hey, the gay community uses it themselves!

Aye, yi yi!!

So that means anyone can fling around nigger, slut, spic, chink, or any other slur, as long as "those people" use it among themselves?

And this woman is a mayor?

Daniels is a Tea Party member, and while I'm tempted to say, "That explains it," I won't, because it would be just as unfair of me to broad stroke brush the Tea Partiers as a bunch of bigots as it is for Mayor Daniels to brand all gays as "queers."

Daniels, by the way, apparently won the mayoral race in Troy, Berman writes, on a platform of being anti-library millage.

Mayor Daniels meets with some concerned Troy citizens on Monday

Again I'm tempted to say, "That explains it."

Of course, the library thing doesn't reflect well on the Troy citizenry, but that's another blog post. The folks there still don't deserve a mayor of Daniels' stature.

This thing has gone national, from the Huffington Post to ABC News. City council members and local businesses are being flooded with phone calls of protest, of which there was a formal one on Monday outside City Hall.

Again, Daniels is not totally relenting, even in the face of all the threats of boycott, etc. of her city.

"I also heard from people who said they want to move to Troy,"Daniels said.

She just doesn't get it, and likely never will.

She's in politics now, and that means that even things said and done "before I was mayor" are still relevant and are an indicator of character.

The Tea Partiers, I have long suspected, are really, really good at protesting and whining and slighting, but have very little idea of what to do once they actually ascend to positions of political power. Daniels seems to be another of these types.

It's much easier to scream, "Throw the bums out!" than it is to govern once you replace the bums.

Mayor Daniels has put a black eye on her city and most of it could have been avoided with some non-filtered contrition and sincere words of regret.

Instead, she buttresses every apology with an underlying theme of "I still don't think I did anything really wrong."

You did, Mayor. Big time.

The notion that she doesn't quite understand that is disturbing.

Fast Track to Stress

2011-11-30T01:27:00.004-05:00

Do any two consecutive months on the calendar pass as quickly as November and December?

I've long said it: once you get past Halloween, it's a slippery slope to the end of the year.

This is both good and bad.

November is almost done, just like that---as usual. Wasn't it just the other day when I was passing out candy?

I say it's good and bad because the holiday season swoops in and that means more expense, more stress and more weight gained.

So it's good that it all happens so fast.

But it's also bad, because there doesn't seem to be enough time for everything, like shopping. More to the point, there doesn't seem to be enough time to assemble the funds needed for said shopping.

Starting on November 1, Thanksgiving already begins to creep into the minds of our lovely wives, who, whether hosting the holiday feast or not, have arrangements and plans to think about.

Turkey Day came relatively early this year (the earliest it can occur is November 22 and this year it came on November 24), just three weeks and some change after Halloween. That means that while the mini Snickers bars and tiny M&M bags leftover from a lack of kid traffic on Halloween sat in plain sight, begging to be consumed, Thanksgiving's meal was already being planned.

We go from candy to candied yams, just like that.

How do we go from this.....

...to this, in a matter of days? (or so it seems)

Retailers don't help, of course. They can't wait to shove the Halloween displays aside and replace them with wreaths and inflatable Santas. One of the radio stations in town has made it a habit in recent years of starting to play Christmas tunes on November 1. I don't pity the listeners (they can change the station), I feel for the employees, who have to listen to that for 54 days before Christmas even arrives.

TV ads shouting about Black Friday specials begin on or around November 1. The Internet sprouts stories of impending BF deals like pimples on a teenager's face just before prom.

It's all designed, I'm convinced, to throw us into a panicked tizzy.

So far, Mrs. Eno and I have managed to squeeze some Christmas shopping in, before November ends---which for us is unusual. The game plan this year is to chip away at it. Of course, that's our game plan every year. And every year we scramble in mid-December.

Which is mere days after the ghosts and goblins have left our front porch. Or so it seems.

Yes, He Did

2011-11-22T15:45:00.003-05:00

He'd be up for parole every few years, always denied. Then he'd return to his private cell and bob back below the surface again.

Perhaps Geraldo Rivera or Barbara Walters would have interviewed him. His look would be older and gaunter as time went by. Maybe he'd be propped up by some oddballs as a sort of anti-hero, like they do with Charlie Manson et al.

Regardless, he'd have been held up as the assassin of President John F. Kennedy. He would have been the first celebrity "lone nut," as his crime happened just as TV was really beginning to take off as a medium. Maybe you'd see his likeness on t-shirts sold in mall shops such as Hot Topic.

Lee Harvey Oswald, 48 years ago today, squeezed the trigger of his Italian-German rifle and cut down JFK as the president's motorcade rode perilously slowly and past the Texas School Book Depository.

Save the conspiracy nonsense. You'll only get me started.

Oswald did it, the lone nut theory as strong as garlic, in my book.

Besides, you can thank Jack Ruby for all the conspiracy quacks.

Had Ruby---he wasn't part of a conspiracy, either---not killed Oswald during the latter's transfer from the Dallas City Jail to the County Jail, then most of the conspiracy quacks wouldn't have anything to quack about.

It was Oswald's death that opened the door to the creative genius of conspiracy "theory".

Manson, mass murder mastermind, is still alive. So is Sirhan Sirhan, the killer of Bobby Kennedy. James Earl Ray, the assassin of Martin Luther King, Jr., was still kicking it some 30 years after his crime before he passed away in 1998.

None have been seriously tied to any conspiracy by the quacks.

Why? Because their existence on this planet acted as a sort of prophylactic against conspiracy talk.

It's easy to conjure up scandalous and taste-tempting tales of conspiracy when the perpetrator of the crime is six feet under.

Ruby killed Oswald but gave life to the conspiracy quacks, who, with Oswald silenced, were able to run rampant with their theories.

Think of it. Oswald, had he lived, would almost certainly have been convicted of JFK's murder. The evidence may have been partially circumstantial, but it was also substantial.

Then he would have gone to prison, perhaps still professing his innocence. But he'd have been behind bars and the trial would have happened and the conspiracy quacks would have looked even sillier than they do now.

Oswald killed Kennedy, just as he killed Dallas policeman J.D. Tippit, and Oswald's actions immediately after the president's death suggest that he committed the crimes alone and without aid.

Oswald acted instinctively, perhaps not even thinking of killing Kennedy until finding out that the president was to visit his town. Imagine Lee's heart racing once he found out that Kennedy's motorcade route placed him right beneath the building in which Oswald worked.

Opportunity knocks!!

I believe that Oswald acted impetuously when he killed the president---maybe not even thinking he'd actually succeed. Then, Lee didn't know what the hell to do, or where the hell to go.

His actions confirm that.

After the assassination, Oswald took a bus home, grabbed a pistol and a jacket, and marched out of his boarding house in suburban Dallas.

Where was he going? What was his intent? Oswald couldn't even get out of the city. He was a frantic, panicking man, probably in disbelief that he pulled off the crime of the century.

The pistol was clearly there in case he needed it, i.e. in the case of a policeman who might try to apprehend him. Poor J.D. Tippit, who never had a chance.

If Oswald had the help that a conspiracy would have provided, then he, as the hired gunman, certainly would have been given an exit strategy, some money, and other instructions.

If I took on such a job, I'd sure as heck would want to know what was to happen to me after the fact.

Thanks to this act, the conspiracy quacks were able to run roughshod over common sense and facts

You think Oswald would consent to kill the President of the United States (wouldn't he have been paid, by the way?), then not bother to ask what the game plan was after the killing?

Flipping it, do you think his employers would hire him for the job then leave him out there to dry, potentially singing like a canary after his possible arrest?

Wouldn't they be afraid that he'd name names like he was rattling off a shopping list?

Instead, for nearly 48 hours, Oswald merely insisted he was innocent and never hinted of a conspiracy, save for his "I'm just a patsy" remark, made to reporters.

Now, either he was incredibly loyal to people in the shadows who never paid him (Oswald was barely above poverty level), or he simply didn't name names because there were no names to name.

I'm betting on the latter.

Ruby started all this nonsense. His erasure of Oswald, while good intentioned in Jack's book (he wanted to save Jackie Kennedy from the emotional stress of a trial), was the match that lit the conspiracy fuse.

Oswald would be 72 years old today. Certainly it's conceivable that he'd still be alive. Manson is over 70. Sirhan is 67. Ray lived into his mid-70s.

And by the way, Ruby did hint of conspiracy, but not until he was ravaged by cancer and wasn't in his right mind.

Ruby died in 1966.

An alive Lee Harvey Oswald, wiling away his time in a penitentiary somewhere, would have cut down a lot of this conspiracy talk just by his very existence as a living person.

Dead, he became the key figure in so many people's criminal fantasies.

Thanks, Jack.

What Happened to Natalie?

2011-11-18T00:22:00.004-05:00

I had a crush on Natalie Wood. Still do, truth be told.

She was beautiful and dark haired. In fact, I liked her type so much that I married one.

But I was just 18 when Wood, the actress, died tragically on a night clouded with mystery back on November 29, 1981. She had been enjoying a night on a yacht with husband Robert Wagner and actor Christopher Walken, with whom she had just wrapped filming of the movie "Brainstorm."

The official cause of death was drowning, which would have made sense normally, as Wood had clearly fallen overboard. But friends---and Wagner---noted that Wood was afraid of water and it was out of character for her to put herself in a situation where drowning was even a possibility.

Even after it was determined that Wood had been drinking prior to the accident, rumors and innuendo swirled.

The presence of a second man, Walken, only added to the whispers. Wood and Walken had been acting cozy, according to some, and speculation arose that he and Wagner may have gotten into a lively discussion sometime the night of the accident.

Yet how that supposed argument played a role in what happened to Wood was never fully explained, of course.

Natalie Wood was just 43 when she perished.

Maybe we'll get some more answers about her death, maybe we won't---but the Los Angeles homicide detectives have re-opened their investigation into what happened that fateful night, regardless.

The news of the LA police department taking another look at Wood's death happens to come on the same week that the film version of "West Side Story," in which Wood starred, was released on Blu-ray Disc to mark its 50th anniversary.

So why the re-opening of the investigation?

According to the Associated Press, it's "because of new information detectives received about the case, Los Angeles County sheriff's spokesman Steve Whitmore said Thursday."

No additional details were provided, but a detective planned to hold a news conference Friday, and anyone with information about the case was being asked to contact sheriff's officials, the AP reported.

The AP also said that a spokesperson for Wagner said that the actor has yet to be contacted by police, but that he has faith that the department will take "appropriate action."

The police news conference should be interesting.

I was never one to be infatuated with Wood's death, as mysterious as it may have been. I don't think anything malicious happened to her. But it wouldn't shock me if Wagner, who blamed himself for his wife's death in a 2009 book, or Walken know more than they've been letting on.

Regardless, Natalie Wood was a beautiful woman and at 43 died way too young.

Natalie Wood

"Brainstorm," by the way, is a good movie. The concept is that Walken, a scientist, invents a machine that can record your thoughts and even physical feelings (including pain) by placing a device on the head, which lays everything down onto this wide, shiny gold recording "tape."

Wood plays Walken's girlfriend in the movie, released after her death.

Wood and Wagner were married twice: from 1957 to 1963, then again in 1972.

Maybe Lana Wood, Natalie's sister, has it pegged right, after all.

"What happened is that Natalie drank too much that night," Lana Wood wrote in her biography.

Probably.

Lovely Rita

2011-11-15T17:16:00.004-05:00

As time marches on, the pioneers among us become fewer and fewer.

No one lives forever, so the trailblazers become endangered species.

"West Side Story," the film version, is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year, marking the occasion with its release today on Blu-ray Disc.

So appropriate, as one of its stars, Rita Moreno, closes in on becoming an octogenarian.

It was Moreno's portrayal of Anita that did a couple of things, neither of them insignificant.

First, it garnered Moreno an Oscar.

Then, it eventually opened doors for other Latino performers to get work in Hollywood.

This was not insignificant, because Natalie Wood played the lead Maria in "West Side Story" and another white actor, George Chakiris, played Puerto Rican gang leader Bernardo.

Moreno was a pioneer, and typical of such folks, she didn't realize it at the time.

But she knows it now.

She allows, in an interview with the Associated Press, that she's "happy" that her portrayal of Anita did a lot for Latino actors.

But, half a century later, "I love what Ricardo Montalban once said, because it was very precise," Moreno says, quoting the late Mexican actor. "He said one day that the door was ajar, but not completely open. And that still exists. ... We have known artists in the English-speaking world that are Latin artists, but not enough."

Also lacking, according to Moreno, who will be 80 on December 11, are musicals themselves.

"I'd love to see more musicals because today they're very rare — you barely find them," she says.

The incomparable Rita Moreno

If you want to check out Moreno at some of her finest, rent or download "The Four Seasons," an Alan Alda written and directed comedy vehicle where she plays the Italian wife of Jack Weston's character, Danny.

The role was part of what Moreno told the AP is her belief that she's "a character actress, more than anything, and I think that is one of the reasons I get other parts that don't have anything to do with being Latina necessarily."

Moreno can be seen now as Fran Drescher's mother in the TV series, "Happily Divorced."

Still working, even as 80 beckons.

"Because I've been around so long ... I've gotten to do a lot of things that a lot of Latinos have not been able to do," Moreno says.

Correction. A lot of Latinos have been able to do things that they wouldn't, had it not been for Rita Moreno.

Thanks for the Memories

2011-11-08T15:19:00.005-05:00

Politics is like good comedy: timing is everything.

Only, what's been going on in Wayne County politics is less comedy and more tragedy.

But timing still is everything.

Oh, how much more interesting would the election for County Executive have been had the Turkia Mullin severance scandal occurred last year instead of this year?

The Little Italian General, Bob Ficano, still likely would have won over his opponent, Republican Mario Fundarski, but the interesting part would have been to see how much less of a margin Ficano would have triumphed.

Or, what if the Mullin scandal hit the news in the spring of 2010? Then maybe a more formidable candidate would have had time to emerge to take on the LIG.

But alas, the cesspool that is the Wayne County political machine is being exposed in full view now, in 2011, some three years before the next County Executive election.

The question now is, how long will voters' memories be in 2014?

A recent poll indicates that 47 percent of likely county Democratic voters contacted by phone want the LIG to resign.

Forty-seven percent! Nearly half.

But that's today, some three years before voters go to the polls to choose who will be the County Exec from 1/1/2015 to 12/31/2018.

How many of those 47 percent will be as enraged in three years?

The severance scandal, which is actually a misnomer because it's more of a "Ficano" scandal, is getting a lot of play. It has the looks of something that could stick to the LIG like flypaper.

Maybe even for three years.

The latest casualty is someone who the FBI ought to devote at least a weekend to: Assistant County Executive Michael Grundy, who was given the ziggy by Ficano last night.

Grundy is the dude who was suspended last month after a contractor told FBI agents that Grundy regularly called if she was late with payments to a company affiliated with one of his associates.

When Grundy wasn't shaking down honest employees for kickbacks, he was trying to strong arm a state legislator into not pursuing the Mullin investigation in Lansing.

Oops, I should have added "allegedly" to the above paragraph.

Grundy is a piece of work. When I was working for the County Commission in 2010, I heard some things about Grundy that usually involved him being a heavy in the Ficano administration, in some way, shape or form.

The FBI could have a field day investigating Michael Grundy.

Michael Grundy

Also on Monday, the chairwoman of the Airport Authority---the same bunch who fired Mullin as airport CEO last week---resigned from her post.

That would be Renee Axt, who "axed" herself. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why.

Axt's consulting firm, RCP Associates, is among those named in FBI subpoenas served on the county last month. The feds are investigating not only the $200,000 severance Mullin received in September for serving as the county's economic development chief, but also Mullin's ties to a nonprofit economic development group.

Axt served on the board of that nonprofit, which paid Mullin a $75,000 bonus.

Yeah, that's right.

This has caused the FBI to start rubbing their chins and pursing their lips. And when they start doing that, the cockroaches tend to skitter away from the light.

It's all well and good that Ficano fired Grundy. It gives one hope that the LIG realizes the depth of his fall from grace. It's not good political strategy to piss off nearly half of your voting base to the point that they want you to quit, right then and there.

This severance thing has been in the papers for over a month now. That's an eternity in County politics. That kind of time on the front page had been reserved for the Kwame Kilpatricks of the world, when it comes to local news.

Even the editorial folks at the Free Press and The News have been hostile to the LIG lately. And that never happens.

Still, the question begs: Will any of this be relevant in 2014, when it really matters?

Or is this scandal just the tip of the iceberg to Ficano's Titanic?

Regardless, you can bet that whoever chooses to run against the LIG in 2014 will do all he or she can to refresh people's memories.

They might not even need it.

A Real Sit Down Guy

2011-11-01T17:39:00.003-04:00

Sooner or later, Bob Ficano is going to run out of stool pigeons.

The time will come when Ficano, the Little Italian General and sneaky Wayne County Executive, looks around him and the only person left to blame is himself.

Turkia Mullin is out as CEO of Metro Airport. No doubt you know that by now. Her brief tenure as CEO ended Monday afternoon, about two months after she received an obscene severance payment when she left Wayne County after serving as its Economic Development Director.

Mullin had to go. Perception is reality in politics, public and civil service. Once tainted, it's awfully difficult to get that sheen back.

She didn't create the cronyism and palm greasing that goes on in the Guardian Building (County HQ), but she certainly didn't do anything to stop it. Not that that is her charge, but she didn't have to be so sassy about it.

"I'm worth it!" she crowed, like the models in those makeup and shampoo commercials, when the $200,000 severance hit the news.

No doubt Mullin thought she and Ficano would be lockstep in snubbing the media and holding the people of the County in contempt.

It didn't work this time.

Mullin's "I'm worth it" comment was one of the worst things she could have said, given the situation at hand. You know, the situation where the County shamelessly asks for concessions and give backs from the rank-and-file while at the same time lining the pockets of do-nothing appointees.

Then Mullin, the day after declaring she was worth it, tried to play the gender card. All the attention the severance was rapidly getting, she whined, was simply because she's a woman. After all, Mullin reasoned, her predecessor got a similar sweetheart severance deal---and he was a man. Where was the outrage then?

Well, "then," the media didn't get its mitts on it. And just because Mullin wasn't a pioneer in the sweetheart severance business doesn't let her off the hook.

So she had to go. The authority board did the right thing in dismissing her, by a 5-2 vote. Of course, the firing will be challenged in court, but that's the penance the authority will have to pay for hiring Mullin in the first place.

Seems the board may not have done all of its due diligence in researching Mullin's claims as far as her involvement and influence in bringing the now infamous $5.5 billion of new development to the County.

The papers did, and they found that Mullin's resume was a little padded.

Happier, grease palming times: Top County deputy Azzam Elder (left), Turkia Mullin and County Exec Bob Ficano make a smiling trio---before Ficano threw them under the bus

That's all well and good. Mullin had to go, but look at what her supposed supporter, Ficano, did to her.

As the heat got turned up, the Little Italian General offered up a few sacrificial lambs---a top deputy, an attorney, a retired contractor---for slaughter. He read a prepared, very insincere sounding "apology" as he announced the suspensions of the first two and the firing of the third lamb. Ficano all but rolled his eyes as he read it. I saw the video. It was pretty shameful.

Then, when the lambs weren't enough, Ficano distanced himself from Mullin, who he supposedly supported and whose career he bolstered.

On Friday, Ficano said Mullin's leadership had been "compromised" and that the board, when they met on Monday to discuss her fate, should "do what they need to do."

Well!

Isn't it a riot when the bad guys start turning on each other?

What the Little Italian General failed to acknowledge was that it was his doings that placed Mullin in the position she was in, albeit indirectly.

Wouldn't it have been nice if Ficano had instead said, "I'm saddened that Turkia Mullin is being caught up in a controversy based on policies of the past that were not of her own doing"?

That's all. He wouldn't have had to issue more support. Just the above statement. It would have been the honorable thing to do. It would have been gentlemanly. It would have been stand up.

Instead, Ficano added Mullin to the people he keeps throwing under the bus.

Sooner or later, the Little Italian General is going to turn around, looking for another lamb, and there won't be anybody left except him.

And as Three Dog Night crooned, "One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do."

Fall Guy

2011-10-27T17:20:00.002-04:00

I would love fall---or autumn, if you prefer---much more if I was more tolerant of what comes behind it: Old Man Winter.

I adore a crisp fall morning, afternoon and evening. I get to enjoy them all because our Jack Russell Terrier demands exercise in the form of several walks per day, so I don't have much of a choice. But it's all good.

So I like the smell of someone burning something or another in the distance. I like the colors, of course. On Saturday afternoons, I like knowing that, all over the country, college football games are being played, whether that college has 1,000 students or 50,000.

But as I get older I find myself more and more resentful of the Old Man every year from December thru March.

I just don't have the patience anymore for the snow and the ice and the hazards they both bring---and I'm including dog walking in there, in addition to driving.

Don't tell me that you're safer walking on the sidewalks in winter time than you are sliding around on the roads.

You ever hear of black ice?

Old Man Winter hasn't been my favorite guy lately

The sidewalks are full of it, lying sneakily beneath the thin layer of powdery snow. And it's as dangerous as anything you'll encounter on the roads---especially when your ability to keep your balance is compromised by having one hand occupied with a leash.

I have almost fallen innumerable times---which scares me to death every time it happens---and have actually fallen way more than once.

Neither is pleasant, though the actual falling is worse. That's because your first thought isn't if you're OK---but rather if anyone saw you.

We are all like that, I'd lay odds. Seems it's human nature to be far more concerned if someone saw us tumble than if we are physically OK. The ego is bruised easier than our bodies.

And let me tell you---I've taken some nasty falls in the past several winters, walking Scamp, who gets the bejeebers scared out of him every time I fall and nearly fall. The involuntary tug and yank on his leash as I try to keep upright is what startles the poor little guy.

Then there's the shoveling. My snow blower went kaput several years ago and I've neglected to get it fixed---shame on me. The result is clearing snow the old fashioned---and more physically-demanding---way.

I would appreciate the romance of winter more if I didn't have to interact with it beyond looking at it.

Hey, keep me inside, away from winter's elements, and I'm good to go. I'll romance the heck out of it in the coziness of indoors.

If fall could extend all the way to spring, with no stop for winter in between, then I'd be ecstatic.

And less bruised.

A Tale of Two Moms

2011-10-20T17:10:00.004-04:00

I'm old enough to remember a simpler time---when being a "stage mom" was pretty much as bad as it got when it came to the mothers of child actors.

I remember Teri Shields, the mother of actress Brooke Shields, who was vilified for being too aggressive and bossy as her daughter rose through the ranks as an adolescent.

Teri Shields was taken to task because at that time and prior (the late-1970s to early-1980s), the parents were very much in the background. You ever hear salacious stories of the moms of Larry Matthews or Jerry Mathers or any of the kids on "The Brady Bunch"?

No, you didn't.

But then came Teri Shields, who was bombastic and sometimes, it seemed, in competition with her daughter for attention.

Well, turns out that the "stage mom" maybe isn't such a bad thing. At least the stage mom keeps tabs on her child(ren), albeit perhaps in a way that prompts eye-rolling.

Brooke Shields turned out just fine, thank you. Granted, I'm biased. I'm a big Brooke Shields fan. But she certainly hasn't gone sideways, despite being in the public consciousness from before she was a teenager.

Then there's Lindsay Lohan.

Lindsay just had her probation revoked because she failed to show up for her community service. Before you knew it, she was being slapped into handcuffs and led out of the courtroom.

It's just another sad chapter in the story of Lohan, who was once, believe it or not, a fresh and freckle-faced youngster with a promising movie career that was budding.
Now the only time her face appears before a camera, it's for a mugshot.

Lindsay's had six of those snapped since 2007. You can see the gallery here.

The difference between Lohan's free fall and the stability enjoyed by Brooke Shields?

Parenting. Pure and simple.

Like I said, turns out that being an overbearing stage mom isn't so bad, when compared to the Jerry Springer-esque escapades of Lohan's parents.

Parenting is the thing that I was fearful would take Miley Cyrus down. I'm still not convinced that it won't. I hope I'm wrong. But Miley's choices have left a lot to be desired. It's not a leap to conclude that Miley's broken family upbringing isn't helping matters.

Lindsay Lohan's folks' public meltdowns are well-known. Mom Dina has acted more like a party buddy than a mother. And now we're in that sad stage of affairs when dad is taking shots at daughter.

Four of the five faces of Lindsay, since 2007 (far left)

Michael Lohan says that he thinks Lindsay is smoking something---literally.

"That's from smoking a pipe with meth or crack," he said about photos of Lindsay's brown teeth. "She's smoking either crack or meth, one or the other. I'm not going to shade it."

Michael Lohan has had his shares of brushes with the law---and drugs, too. So maybe this is simply a case of "takes one to know one."

Regardless, life in Hollywood when you're on screen before you've lost all your baby teeth is tough enough with good parents and a stable home life, let alone when you've got Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum as your mom and dad.

I'll take the embarrassing stage mom over that, any day.

Take This Lamb and Shove It

2011-10-19T01:24:00.002-04:00

The Little Italian General, Wayne County Executive Bob Ficano, has offered up some lambs for sacrifice in the Turkia Mullin severance scandal, but this time he's finding that the county natives' appetite is a tad more voracious than what he's able to offer them.

Ficano suspended for 30 days, without pay, his top deputy, Azzam Elder, and lead attorney Marianne Talon. Ficano also fired former Human Resources Director Tim Taylor, who retired in April but who had been doing consulting work since.

In the past, that might have been enough to quell the rancor and get everybody back to their busy days. It might have been the equivalent of the cops yelling, "Nothing to see here!"

Not this time.

Severance-Gate is taking on a life of its own. The newspapers, usually very kind to the County Executive, are suddenly chewing on Ficano like a dog on a rawhide. Now even the residents are getting into the act.

On Monday, several dozen of them protested outside the Guardian Building downtown, which houses County headquarters. They held signs and demanded Ficano's resignation.

It's not enough, this time, for Ficano to blame others for his misdeeds. The rug he is trying to sweep this under is tacked down.

Why, even the "K" word has been bandied about.

“We went through the whole sage of corruption with Kwame Kilpatrick and now we’re thrust into a whole new saga of corruption with Ficano,” Sandra Hines, 57, of Detroit, who led the protest, told the Detroit Free Press. “He needs to step down.”

Yes, that "K" word---or words, rather.

It's going to get worse for the Little Italian General before it gets better.

This is because the FBI is set to get their inquisitive mitts on Severance-Gate.

The Attorney General's office announced on Tuesday afternoon that the FBI (no less) will take over the investigation of the curiously generous ways Ficano's appointees are compensated in Wayne County.

Severance-Gate's tentacles have even reached Lansing.

The decision to have the FBI investigate came after a hearing before the House Oversight, Reform and Ethics committee, which delayed a vote on a request from state Rep. John Olumba, D-Detroit, to have the AG’s office directly investigate Wayne County.

Olumba told reporters that his zeal was challenged by Ficano crony Michael Grundy, who functions as a sort of county whip.

Grundy, according to Olumba, told the legislator that he was "in over his head," and that Olumba ought to consider dropping the entire matter. Grundy denies all that.

Again, in the past, that might have worked.

Ficano trying to explain himself at a recent press conference

But why this, and why now? Why has this particular incident drawn so much ire---from the press to the general public, to certain state lawmakers?

Back to the "K" word, for one explanation.

This town was Kwame weary for quite some time. And because of that, it was also not in the mood to hear of malfeasance from any elected official. There was an unspoken moratorium, it seemed, on going after the political crooks.

That moratorium has been lifted, and in grandiose fashion.

Folks want Ficano's blood---mainly because they feel strongly that Elder, Talon and Taylor are small fish. Or, worse for the Little Italian General, they feel that Ficano is solely responsible for Mullin's ostentatious payout to begin with.

And they would be right.

Does anyone really think that Ficano was betrayed by Elder, Talon and Taylor, as County Commissioner Ilona Varga intimated recently?

It's funny how our leaders always seem to get detached from their duties when it's most convenient.

Ficano is pretending that he was just a clueless boss whose underlings pulled off twisted feats of derring do behind his back.

Then he stuck their heads on sticks and tried to declare Severance-Gate dead.

Not this time.

Last Sitcom Standing?

2011-10-11T17:32:00.004-04:00

The hair is more gray, the paunch is more pronounced around the belly. The face is a tad more jagged.

But Tim Allen is back on TV, and again he's there to represent---Michigan, that is.

Allen, 58, is the star of the new ABC sitcom, Last Man Standing, where he plays a marketing exec whose nest is filled with women---his wife and daughters. The series premieres tonight.

The show takes place in the Denver area, but Allen's character is a University of Michigan grad.

It's been about 12 years since Allen, who grew up in Birmingham, was last seen on the small screen as do-it-yourself TV host Tim Taylor on Home Improvement.

Since then, movies beckoned (The Santa Clause films, most prominently) and Allen made a mint with just his voice in the Toy Story franchise.

He's also the narrator of the Pure Michigan ad campaign on TV and radio.

It's been over 20 years since Allen first made a name for himself in the entertainment industry, grunting and acting the cave man as he did stand up. His act was centered around the male penchant for power tools. It's how he landed the Home Improvement gig.

Well, that's not quite true. Allen made a name for himself before that, in a twisted way; he was booked on a drug charge back in 1978 in the Kalamazoo area. The '78 mug shot is still just a Google search away.

And today?

"I like doing TV -- I think," Allen told the Detroit Free Press in a phone interview. "Compared to movies, which I adore, this is a way I don't have to be on a far-off location and can be close to home, near my 3-year-old. It's a very structured environment, and with this I'm an executive producer so I'm involved in really all aspects of the production -- from the set design, which is something I really like, to the actors I'm working with and script approval. There's a bunch on my plate right now, but it's cool."

Allen as Mike Baxter in ABC's new sitcom, Last Man Standing

Allen is likeable, and on TV that's what sells---whether it's a sitcom or a talk show or anything else that is beamed into people's living rooms. In a business filled with variables and which is susceptible to the onslaught of technology, likeability has remained a constant in terms of whether audiences will watch you or not.

Whether TV viewers will gravitate back to Allen remains to be seen. His wife is played by TV veteran Nancy Travis.

Allen is betting on it. He told the Free Press that he feels viewers---especially the males---are ready for a return to a more "traditional sitcom setting."

If anyone should listen to Tim Allen, it's TV executives, because Allen had Home Improvement humming along from 1991-99, frequently in the Nielsen Top Ten. At the show's peak in 1993-94, over 20 million sets of eyeballs tuned in on Allen as Tim Taylor.

It's 12 years later, but maybe the viewership has come full circle. Lord knows there's enough "reality" TV out there to gag an elephant.

"It's difficult to find something where everyone in the family can watch something together -- but that's what we're trying to do," Allen says of Last Man Standing.

I hope he succeeds. The genre of the sitcom could use a winner.

Genius! (Really)

2011-10-06T17:38:00.003-04:00

There are some words that just get overused to the point of losing much of their meaning.

Hero. Role model. Cute.

To name a few.

Oh, and "genius," which I am convinced most of the people who use it couldn't even properly define it for you.

But there are also times when those overused, borderline hackneyed words and phrases are quite apt and can, for that precise moment, be used like a square peg in a square hole.

We lost a genius yesterday.

Steve Jobs, the founder of Apple Inc. who passed away after a battle with pancreatic cancer at age 56, was a genius. He was every bit of one as Edison and Einstein and Fermi.

What is genius, then?

Part of it is affecting people's everyday lives, for the better. Whether you embrace technology or not, you'll sound foolish if you try to argue that Jobs' computer chip-based creations didn't positively impact the vast majority of the people who used them.

Jobs started Apple in his garage, the story famously goes. That's in line with genius, too; so many of our greatest inventors have rags-to-riches, overcoming-the-odds stories to tell.

And, like how Edison wasn't just the guy who invented the light bulb, Jobs can't be known just for Apple Computers and all its bi-products. His reach extended into the world of entertainment through his work with Pixar Studios and his involvement with the Walt Disney Company.

Jobs, in the early-1980s

What else is genius?

It's taking elements that had always been there and making something useful out of it. The computer as Jobs founded it could have been created years or even decades before; the materials were there, for the most part.

But it wasn't.

Genius is also being a visionary and not letting anything get in the way of that vision. It's imagining greatness when all that is before you are boards, chips and a soldering gun.

Genius is having as much of an eye for business as you do for creation.

And genius is anticipating what people 5-10 years from now are going to want, and making sure they have it---and then some.

Genius is someone like Steve Jobs. It's safe to say that we may not see his kind again, because everything from now on is just a continuation of what Jobs started.

No, Edison and Einstein and Fermi have nothing on Steve Jobs.

They all had their time, which is all anyone can ask.

The Little Italian General

2011-10-04T17:22:00.006-04:00

"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

How about, "Fool me over and over"?

Last year I worked for the Wayne County Commission as its press secretary/public information person. For those who don't know, the Commission is the legislative branch of county government---the Congress to the County Executive's President, if you will.

But at least Congress has some degree of a spine.

Many of you might have read of the controversial "severance" check that former Wayne County Director of Development Turkia Mullin received after she left that post to head Metro Airport. Mullin voluntarily left a $200,000 job to take the airport position, which pays $250 K. Not bad.

But upon her leaving, County Executive Bob Ficano handed Mullin a $200,000 check, just for leaving. Quite a parting gift.

The payout was allegedly in line with the terms of Mullin's contract. And, she and Ficano said, it wasn't any different than what her predecessor received when he left as development director.

The smelly "severance" caught the good eye of the Detroit News, which came out with this editorial in Sunday's paper, calling for a review of Ficano's appointees' pay. This was after WXYZ-TV (ch. 7) broke the story, courtesy of bulldog reporter Heather Catallo. I couldn't help but laugh---literally, when I read the News editorial. Just ask my wife.

I laughed because in 2010, while working for the Commission, I all but handed the News and the Detroit Free Press smoking guns of the garish pay of Ficano's appointees, and how many of them are no more than do-nothing cronies.

The newspapers did nothing with the info I provided.

But after WXYZ came out with their story last week, the News felt compelled to chime in on Ficano's generosity when it comes to his appointees.

Ficano's office couldn't even come up with a contract for Mullin despite repeated calls for it, by both the media and the Commission, which must approve all contracts in excess of $50,000.

All that was produced was a one paragraph, undated letter, signed by Ficano, to Mullin. It makes reference to a 12-month severance. It's hardly a contract, by any stretch of the imagination. Mullin didn't even sign it.

The County is about $150 million in debt. It has asked already struggling workers to take anywhere from 10-20 percent pay cuts.

Not only that, but I had proof that some of Ficano's staff received 10 percent pay raises just before accepting a 10 percent cut, thus skirting a pay cut altogether.

You heard me.

The Golden (Parachute) Girl, Turkia Mullin

Yet the newspapers did nothing. Neither did the Commission, really. Which is par for the course.

The "Fool me over and over" sentence at the top of this post is directed at the Commission, by the way.

Commission Chairman Gary Woronchak, in response to Catallo's digging, called for a Committee of the Whole meeting downtown this morning, designed to demand answers from Ficano.

As I suspected he would, Ficano pretty much blew the Commission off, despite pleas from the News in this editorial that appeared today.

Bob read a prepared statement that was laughable.

It read, in part, "I have already launched an internal review of the facts and circumstances that led to this payment. I will put protections in place so that this situation isn't repeated."

BOB!!! There's nothing to launch an internal review ABOUT. You gave Mullin a golden parachute. End of story.

Ficano is speaking as if he's gotta "follow the money," like this is Watergate and he's Bob Woodward, not Bob Ficano.

And as far as "Protections in place"....HA! In other words, "I'll try to control myself next time."

As usual, Ficano served up some slop to the Commission, because he knows he can, because so many of them gobble it up and say, "Please, sir, may I have some more?"

The Wayne County Commission is filled with gutless, principle-less Ficano toadies. So nothing much will come of the Ficano-Mullin thing, especially now that Mullin has agreed to pay the money back.

So what of the News' plea for a good, hard look at the myriad of Ficano appointees who are pulling in $100,000+ in salary doing often phantom jobs? You know, the plea that the paper was unwilling to make when I and others in the Commission's inner circle gift-wrapped the information for them?

Good luck with that. The Wayne County Commission looks the other way so much I'm surprised they don't all have kinks in their necks.

I was asked to leave the Commission in January 2011, though it had nothing to do with job performance. My severance was a "Thanks for everything." At least it didn't cost the taxpayers a dime.

One and Done?

2011-09-27T12:13:00.002-04:00

Reports say that Michigan Gov. Rick Snyder may not seek a second term if he "completes his agenda" in his first term.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Two things about this odd statement, which was partially refuted by the governor's communications director, Geralyn Lasher: a) what agenda could possibly cure what's ailing Michigan in just four years; and b) why is Snyder already talking about walking away from the job.

According to Paul Egan's article in today's Detroit News, Snyder said Saturday on Mackinac Island he would be "happy to go fishing, go teach or do something else" if he could complete his agenda in his first term.

This is troubling to me.

Michigan is one of the most economically-depressed states in the country, additionally saddled by a city---Detroit---that is as messed up as it's ever been, whether you're talking schools or jobs or infrastructure or services.

Yes, Detroit has its own leadership that should take care of the city, but it's foolish to think that the governor's effectiveness is in no way tied to the success of Detroit.

So in the face of all this, why in the world is Snyder already talking about wrapping everything up in a neat package and putting a bow on it by 2014?

Lasher, in partially refuting the account of Snyder's Saturday remarks by Michigan Information and Research Service, a Lansing political newsletter, said that the governor only said that he "might" not seek a second term.

Same thing, in my book.

If Rick Snyder bails out after four years, then the citizens of the state ought to be outraged---whether they voted for him or not. Maybe more so if they did vote for him.

There is simply no agenda that can fix what ails Michigan in four years. Which makes Snyder's supposed tape measure of gauging success laughable. Which then, in turn, makes his statement about possibly not seeking a second term almost seem fait accompli.

Lasher said Snyder is "too focused to give much thought to a second term and has never said whether he will seek re-election," according to the News story.

Funny how this notion of Snyder going fishing after four years was never bandied about during his campaign seeking the office, huh?

You think that might have dissuaded some folks from voting for him---if he was considering making this a one and done governorship?

So here Snyder is, not even nine months after taking office, addressing a second term---specifically, whether he's even going to seek one.

Even if you want to say that asking about a second term is premature at this point (and it might be), Snyder's response is still troubling.

Why not simply acknowledge that there's way too much on the plate right now to even consider getting it all done by December 31, 2014? And leave it at that. That would indirectly answer the question of seeking a second term while at the same time reiterating the scope of the job at hand, which is huge.

But to leave the door open---and more than a crack---for him to walk away from the job after one term, Snyder should have his electorate baffled and disillusioned right now.

A voluntary one-term governor isn't what Snyder supporters voted for. As for his opponents, it may seem like good news, but isn't it better to defeat a guy instead of having him go fishing?

Go On Without Me

2011-09-22T17:16:00.003-04:00

Well, the kid from Livonia won't be president, after all.

It would have been nice to have my hometown known for something other than being the leading speed trap in the country.

U.S. Rep. Thad McCotter (R-Livonia) is dropping out of the presidential race, not that he was really in it to begin with.

McCotter's out because of the big, bad media---to hear him tell it.

McCotter failed to win access to the early GOP debates, which was his death knell.

"If they keep you out of the debates, you are out of the conversation and you can't run," McCotter told the Detroit News. "It was sort of death by media."

I wrote of McCotter's rather surprising entry into the White House race, when he deemed himself the voice of a new generation of conservatives. I thought at the time that a fellow Livonian becoming president would be pretty cool, though I am far from McCotter's political brethren.

Apparently that new conservative voice of which McCotter fancied himself will now be speaking on behalf of former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney, who McCotter now supports.

"Especially with his business background and in a stagnant economy, he may be the most electable," McCotter said.

McCotter likes Romney rival Texas Gov. Rick Perry, but said the country isn't ready for another Texas president so soon after President George W. Bush. "He may be a vice presidential nominee," McCotter said.

McCotter serves on the House Financial Services Committee, but he found it difficult to gain traction in the crowded GOP field.

He was denied a spot on the stage during the candidate debates. Fox News refused to include him in tonight's debate from Orlando, even though it allowed former New Mexico Gov. Gary Johnson a podium for the first time.

That's no way to treat someone from Livonia---who's not a traffic cop writing you a speeding ticket!!

So the only Michigan man who was president will continue to be Jerry Ford, I guess.

McCotter: Bowing out early

I actually love the early portions of a presidential campaign---from the perspective of the party opposite the incumbent's.

I get a kick out of how large the field is, initially, and how it dwindles.

Though I do think the campaigns are too damn long.

Someone in politics once said, "It's easier to run for president than it is to stop running."

But in McCotter's case, I don't know that it was all that hard for him to pull the plug.

According to the News, former Michigan Attorney General Mike Cox, a neighbor to McCotter, said running for president "was (McCotter's) dream. … He tried it out, obviously it wasn't working. And he's doing the rational thing and dropping out."

Often, doing the rational thing isn't always the easiest thing to do, especially when one has such lofty hopes. But McCotter did it, just the same.

Thad McCotter isn't even 50 years old yet. There's still time.

Cider Mill Rules!

2011-09-20T10:19:00.004-04:00

Maybe there's another state in our great nation where you can get a better cider mill experience, but I'll put my good money on Michigan, just the same.

Our family is on the long list of those who count a trip to the mill as an annual tradition. Doubtless there are those who make repeated trips.

I know of few places I'd rather be on a crisp fall Saturday morning than at the mill, eating fresh, warm doughnuts and sipping tart cider, just mashed.

I'm not a big fan of summer being in the rearview mirror, but fall makes me smile---though our falls lately haven't been as pleasurable thanks to excess rain and cold temps.

I like the same things you probably do---the colors, the crisp air, the nighttime bonfires, the FOOTBALL. Even the knowledge that winter is lurking behind autumn doesn't kill it for me.

Ah, but a trip to the cider mill is right up there as to why I enjoy fall.

We usually head up to Yates Cider Mill in Rochester.

I've written before in this space of my mysterious apple allergy that suddenly disappeared a couple years ago. So now I'm able to not only enjoy the cider---which I was always able to drink, despite the allergy---but also the fresh apples in all their tart deliciousness.

It's one of those rites of passage, a trip to the cider mill. The overall experience is just as good, if not better, than the food and drink. And that's pretty good!

There's a stream by the Yates mill, and I always marvel at the ducks bobbing in it, because you know the water is frigid. But that's why they're ducks, I suppose.

You can always spend a few bucks at the mill, because there's hot dogs and sausages and fudge---mmmm, the fudge---and several other apple-related food stuffs for purchase.

But you can also monitor your spending, maybe sticking to a couple bags of doughnuts and a half gallon of cider if funds are precious.

There's also the commute, which for us is straight up Dequindre. That's nice, too---pretty in its colors and with the added charm of a couple roadside fruit and veggie stands.

I imagine we'll venture up to Yates sometime in October, on a purposely picked crisp, sunny Saturday morning.

Does it get any better than that?

Another Bad 9/11

2011-09-15T10:15:00.003-04:00

September 11 wasn't a great day for Amy Yasbeck, either. Nor for any of us who loved John Ritter---and that's a whole lot of folks.

The September 11 I refer to wasn't the 2001 version, which was horrific. It's the September 11 that occurred two years later.

It was 9/11/03 when we lost Ritter, the actor. And when Yasbeck, also an actor, lost her husband.

Ritter was starring in the successful ABC comedy "8 Simple Rules" when he collapsed on the set and died several hours later, thanks to a leaky aorta. He was 54 years old.

Bio had a special about "Three's Company" the other day---maybe purposely on the 11th because that was the date of Ritter's death eight years ago. The special was a very cool look back on the history of the show, filled with clips and behind-the-scenes info.

It was "Three's Company," of course, that introduced us to Ritter as Jack Tripper, the pretend-gay roommate of blonde bombshell Chrissy Snow and sensible, attractive brunette Janet Wood---played by Suzanne Somers and Joyce DeWitt, respectively.

For eight years on "Three's Company," Ritter stumbled, bumped, smirked and flirted his way around the southern California apartment. It was Somers, actually, who became the biggest star initially (gracing dozens of magazine covers), but after she left following season four due to a contract dispute, it was clear that the reason the show continued to thrive was because audiences loved Ritter.

And what wasn't there to love? Ritter's Tripper was, at the same time, goofy, clumsy, big-hearted, smart and funny.

"Three's Company" was one of the few sitcoms that succeeded almost entirely on the plot device of the bedroom farce. The show's storylines were laced with sexual innuendo and no matter which landlord the three had (Norman Fell/Audra Lindley or Don Knotts), the assumption was always that something naughty was going on behind closed doors, a feeling that was propagated by the dialogue heard from behind those doors.

It was a guilty pleasure of the late-1970s, early-1980s.

But the glue was Ritter, whose flair for physical comedy reminded us old-timers of Dick Van Dyke, with the pratfalls and funny facial expressions.

Ritter wasn't particularly tall, and so he didn't have the long legs that work so well in physical comedy, a la Van Dyke, Chevy Chase and John Cleese, but he was limber and talented.

It wasn't until after "Three's Company," when Ritter began branching out, that we saw how gifted he was as an actor, period. He could do drama, we found out. He could do a love story. He could play a bad guy.

But there was something comforting about seeing Ritter return to his comedic roots when he returned to TV with "8 Simple Rules," about a sportswriter who had written a book, "8 Simple Rules to Date My Teenage Daughter." The book, written by Bruce Cameron, was real. The show took place in metro Detroit.

The show was becoming a hit and had just started its second season when Ritter took ill and died.

His widow, Yasbeck, sued, claiming that Ritter's condition was improperly diagnosed in the crucial, initial moments of his taking ill. According to Wikipedia, "several of the defendants have settled out of court for a total of $14 million, including Providence St. Joseph, which settled for $9.4 million. On March 14, 2008, a jury split 9-3 in favor of the doctors, clearing the physicians of any wrongdoing."

Yasbeck's birthday is September 12---they day after her husband died.

In the Bio special, Fred Silverman, the longtime TV executive who first brought "Three's Company" to the screen, lamented that Ritter's untimely death robbed us of someone who really could have been great.

He's right.

As terrific as John Ritter was, at age 54 he should have had a couple decades more left in him to entertain us, cutting across all genres.

That would have been great.

The Winner Is....US!

2011-09-06T17:12:00.005-04:00

Now, why didn't someone think of this years ago?

Earlier this year I crabbed about the woeful mismatch of Anne Hathaway and James Franco as co-hosts of the Oscars. They had no chemistry with each other, and the two of them combined still couldn't make enough of a host to keep from being overwhelmed by Oscar's duties.

There won't be such a dilemma next year, for Eddie Murphy is riding to the rescue.

Yes, Oscar has wised up and tabbed actor/comedian Murphy to escort us through Oscar's interminable broadcast in 2012.

This should be a great pick. It's Steve Martin-esque, and I wonder why they haven't invited Steverino back, come to think of it.

Oscar's telecast needs someone to wink at the industry, not blatantly mock it. Hathaway and Franco tried too hard. Rather, they were given ridiculous material with which to work. But then again, neither of them had the chops to make it palatable.

Murphy, like Martin and Billy Crystal and Johnny Carson and Bob Hope---all great hosts of Oscars telecasts of the past---is a veteran industry insider who's had us laughing and who we've laughed at. Having a stinker or two on your resume ought not eliminate you from contention; instead, it should make you more endearing.

That was another bad thing about Hathaway and Franco (sorry to pick on them but...); they were too damn young. It was like having Justin Bieber hosting the Grammys.

Murphy, with his smart wit, light-up-the-room smile and stand-up comedy experience, has all the goods to knock it out of the park next year on Oscar Night.

Brett Ratner, who will produce the 84th Academy Awards show along with Don Mischer, called Murphy "a comedic genius, one of the greatest and most influential live performers ever."

"With his love of movies, history of crafting unforgettable characters and his iconic performances -- especially on stage -- I know he will bring excitement, spontaneity and tremendous heart to the show Don and I want to produce in February," Ratner said.

Well said. In fact, Murphy makes so much sense, it's dumbfounding that he hadn't been considered until now.

The hiring of Eddie Murphy has added appropriateness.

Who better to host Oscar's notoriously long telecast than someone who starred in a film called "48 Hours"?

GUMBY, dammit!

My Senior Moment

2011-08-30T15:36:00.002-04:00

A less scrupulous parent might encourage his daughter to drop out of high school before her senior year. Or a poor one.

I'm about to be the latter, because I'm not the former.

Confused? Sorry.

Our daughter is entering her senior year of high school, or as it's otherwise known to parents, The Shakedown.

The schools have us senior parents between a rock and a hard place, and don't think they don't know it.

My wife registered our daughter this morning for the school year, and being a senior is not only a very special year, it's also very expensive.

There are the senior photos, of course. Those were taken this summer and while the proofs are absolutely beautiful, the packages begin at over $500.

I graduated high school in 1981, and I remember making a very understated trip to the Olan Mills studio in Livonia in the summer of 1980 with my polyester, three-piece suit and a comb.

We snapped a few head shots and I was probably on my way back home within the hour, at most.

Today, the poses are multiple, there are more wardrobe changes than a Lady Gaga concert, and there are so many good proofs you have no idea how you're going to whittle them down. Hence the large and expensive packages for such undecided parents.

Then there's the yearbook and the hoodies and sweats and the senior dinner and the all-night party. We also have to pay for the cap and gown, don't you know. Cha-ching!

The all-night party, by the way, runs $80 a head. I have no idea what the kids get for $80 a head, but it ought to involve the aforementioned Lady Gaga concert! As in, Lady Gaga herself shows up and performs.

By contrast, the senior dinner is only $10 a person. I'd like to know what makes the all-night party eight times more expensive than the senior dinner. Come to think of it, I'd rather not know.

We've already purchased must-haves like the class ring and our daughter's varsity jacket. That was last year. Thank goodness those are out of the way.

Eventually there will be graduation announcements that need to be selected and paid for. My wife made the analogy that having a senior is like having a daughter who is someone's fiancee. Because the whole thing takes on a wedding planning-like aura.

I know it was 30 years ago, but I don't recall all this...stuff going on during senior year.

If our daughter reads this, I would remind her that daddy isn't really complaining. I'm proud and happy for you, sweetie. This truly is a special time.

Just as long as you don't mind eating Kraft Mac and Cheese three nights a week.

Beetle Mania

2011-08-25T13:53:00.003-04:00

The VW bug I remember was baby blue, had the engine in the rear, and there were subway car-like straps hanging from the roof over the back seats.

I loved the logo (still do)---the "V" perched on top of the "W" inside a circle; the word "Volkswagen" on a diagonal over the back hatch, which hid the engine.

This was circa 1970-72. I was a young child and the baby blue VW Beetle was the first car my parents possessed of which I have vivid memories.

I used to sit in the car as a youngster, in the driver's seat, and pretend I was driving on the open road. I would play with the "controls," as I called them---the dials of the radio, pushing the cigarette lighter in (don't worry; it didn't get hot because the car was turned off), fiddling with the vent and heat knobs, etc.

I was stationary in our driveway, but in my imaginative mind, I was cruising along at 45 MPH, switching lanes and making turns. I would pretend to drive to locations I was familiar with: the local Big Boy, the gas station, the supermarket.

Then they stopped making VW Beetles in this country and you pretty much didn't see them on the road for years.

Now they appear to have made quite a comeback.

The "new" Beetle I've been seeing on the road lately (top) and a version similar to what my parents had in the early-1970s (above)

I am seeing the "new" Beetles on the road more and more lately, and that's a good thing.

There's something about the rounded bug, hugging the pavement with its compact little body, tooling around town, that makes me smile. Sometimes, wistfully.

The car reminds me a lot of the baby blue version we had in my days as a Livonia lad. I can still see it parked in my mother's driveway (she still lives in the house where I grew up).

Of course, I thought the notion of a car with its "trunk" in the front and the engine in the back was pretty cool. Not sure that it was all that good for safety, but there you have it.

In the past several months, there has been an absolute influx of Beetles on the road. I'm convinced of it. I see them in all sorts of colors, too.

There was a time when I thought the idea of ever seeing VW Beetles on American roads again was pure fantasy. Now they're all over the place---at least in Metro Detroit, where I live, work and play.

Plus, they're just so gosh darn cute.

Size DOESN'T Matter

2011-08-18T16:26:00.003-04:00

When we first saw Danny DeVito, he was behind a cage, his face poking out over a counter.

Despite his small stature, it soon became evident that you couldn't keep DeVito caged forever.

DeVito, 66, filled our living rooms with his bitter venom as Louie De Palma in ABC's "Taxi," starting way back in 1978. His role as the taxi company's boss and dispatcher, pacing behind his caged pen as he spewed words of anger, frustration and exasperation with his employees, made De Palma one of the best-known characters on TV. Not the most well-liked, but one of the best-known.

DeVito was so good as De Palma that it was easy to think he was a mouthy little runt in real life.

Turns out he was a pretty nice guy---and a terrific actor, to boot. And producer. And director. And comedian.

Today, finally---after dozens of his lesser-deserving colleagues received them---DeVito was honored with the 2,445th star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

The ceremony was held in connection with the Sept. 13 release of the DVD of the sixth season of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia," the FX comedy in which DeVito co-stars as the ne'er-do-well co-owner of a Philadelphia bar.

DeVito's come a long way since his days as a cosmetician. You heard me.

That was DeVito's first job out of high school, back in 1962 in New Jersey (where else?). He worked there because his sister owned the salon.

A year later, he enrolled at New York's American Academy of Dramatic Arts so he could learn more about cosmetology. While at the academy, he fell in love with acting and decided to pursue a career in it.

The career choice didn't exactly pay instant dividends.

His first paying gig was for $60 a week in a one-act play. And this was after years of unemployment.

DeVito scrounged for work in off-Broadway productions before landing a high-profile role in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," playing a delusional mental patient named Anthony Martini. He reprised the role in 1975's movie version, which won the Academy Award for Best Picture.

Next was an Emmy Award for his "Taxi" role of De Palma in 1981.

DeVito as Louie De Palma in "Taxi" (1978-83)

You pretty much know the rest; DeVito has been on the small and large screen ever since, often playing the same type of character but in different ways. In some roles, he's almost gotten you to feel sorry for him because there was some soft-heartedness behind the crackly exterior, but thankfully DeVito would eventually remind us why his character was to be detested.

It was way more fun to laugh at and get angry with DeVito's characters than it was to embrace them.

As a director, DeVito helmed "Throw Momma from the Train"; "The War of the Roses"; "Hoffa"; "Matilda"; "Death to Smoochy"; and "Duplex."

Not all hits among that list, but enough of a body of work to be relevant and keep him in the loop of working directors for a time.

The producing credits are even more impressive: the Academy's Best Picture nominee "Erin Brockovich"; "Pulp Fiction"; "Get Shorty"; "Man on the Moon"; "Gattaca" and "Garden State."

DeVito has been a success away from the business, as well, remaining married to actress Rhea Perlman since 1982, and raising three kids with her.

It wasn't until today's news that I realized Danny DeVito didn't have a star on the Hollywood walk of Fame. Considering some of those who've been honored in the past, I'd say someone missed the boat---several times---on this one.

"I'll tell you one thing," DeVito once said, "it's a cruel, cruel world."

But today it was very nice to Danny DeVito.

About time.

Drawn and Quartered

2011-08-12T17:36:00.004-04:00

Fifty cents to add sweetener to iced tea. Thirty cents for extra sauce on a Big Mac.

We aren't being "nickeled and dimed" anymore; we're being quartered---and drawn.

The two examples above happened to my family recently. Our daughter wanted a sweetened iced tea at Starbucks and it cost us four bits. A couple days later my wife asked for some extra "special" sauce at Mickey D's on her Big Mac and the tab was three dimes.

The markup on some sweetener for a 12-oz. glass of iced tea, at 50 cents per, must be a gazillion percent. Same with 30 cents for another splat of sauce on a hamburger.

Again, these are only two examples. Lord knows how many more there are, of food and drink establishments gouging us for "extras."

It's a lose/lose proposition, in my book. The asking price should be negligible, like a nickel. But then, when you ask for a nickel for something, you look petty (probably because you are).

The answer?

FREE!

Why not?

How many people ask for extra sauce on their Big Mac? I don't expect you to know that number, and I certainly don't. Yes, McDonald's is a HUGE enterprise, and if you added together all the people who asked for extra sauce in any given day, I'm sure the amount would stagger me.

But how much does an extra splat of sauce, truly, cost McDonald's?

It HAS to be calculated in pennies, or even in fractions of pennies.

I know---even fractions of pennies, times the amount of people, could be a lot.

It's more of a PR thing.

Thirty cents for extra sauce on a Big Mac just seems too expensive. It seems like gouging. Same with 50 cents for some sweetener.

Despite the possible pettiness, I say drop the sauce price to a dime. I'll bet fewer would be disdainful of the pettiness of asking for a dime than they would for the gouginess of 30 cents.

How about you? If you've come across ridiculous fees and charges for trivial requests, let me know, either by e-mail or by commenting below.

I wanna hear your two cents' worth. Unless that's up to a quarter now, too.

Check out the New Hansons Windows Blog!!

2011-08-09T15:00:00.001-04:00

Self-promotion time---sort of.

I've added a new link to the Blogroll---the official, re-launched blog from my employer, Hansons Windows and Siding.

But it's not what you think, I don't think.

Yes, there will be articles about home improvement and tips about how to maintain your home, but there are also going to be human interest pieces like the one from August 8, which tells of 98-year-old Keiko Fukuda, who recently became the first woman (and fourth person overall) to achieve the rank of tenth-degree black belt, in Judo.

We'll also blend in some guest bloggers to pontificate, some of whom will have instantaneous name recognition.

So drop on by and check it out!

A Sexual Drive-By

2011-08-09T13:35:00.004-04:00

There's an old one-liner, culled from back in the day.

"I'm against too much sex on television," it goes.

"I mean, I keep falling off!"

Ba-dum-bum.

Last night I saw too much sex on television---this time, I mean spewing forth from my 50" screen in my living room.

I'm talking real, unadulterated sex. Not pretend sex, not inferred sex. Not fictitious sex.

On ABC, no less.

It was a shade past 10:00 last night and the family and I happened upon "Bachelor Pad," an amalgam of "The Bachelor" and "The Bachelorette." It was the first time we'd ever seen "Pad."

Apparently, "Pad" brings back contestants of the other two "seeking partner" shows and throws them together in yet another dating bunker hole, from which they must scratch and claw to find
"love"---and the $250,000 grand prize, which might be the greater of the two incentives.

On last night's episode, everything was going along in typical "reality" show fashion (cutaways to contestants talking individually into the camera about each other, etc) when suddenly a dark turn was taken.

The first indicator that something bad was about to happen was when we were shown grainy footage. Nothing screams "crime or something shocking about to happen" more than grainy footage from a hidden camera.

Sure enough, a female contestant enters the room where the camera is hidden at a high angle. She begins to disrobe. The camera zooms out to reveal that she is doing so by a bed, which is occupied by a man who, seconds earlier, was revealed to us as clearly being her "boyfriend."

The show then cut back to the girl talking on camera about what was going on in the bunker hole/mansion. Then it cut back to the grainy footage. This happened several times, and each time it did, the man and woman were in deeper throes of "passion."

Their squirming under the covers was easily deciphered, as was the French kissing.

These folks were doing the nasty, on prime time TV. On network television.

Our 18-year-old daughter was watching with us, which added to the discomfort in our front room.

The escalating passion shown by the grainy footage was uncomfortable at best and disgusting at worst.

The sheet and blanket did a poor job of masking the grinding that was going on beneath them.

Does the FCC even exist anymore? Where are the network censors?

What's worse, the footage added nothing, really, to the show. Look, we got it: SHE "loves" HIM. She said so, because her microphone caught her whispering, "I want to have your children" into his ear, moments before she was shown stripping and joining him in bed.

So we didn't need to see her "proving" that love with passionate wrestling under the sheets.

In an instant, we went from curiously checking out a show on ABC to being a jazz soundtrack and coin dispenser away from hotel room porn.

Shame on you, ABC. Here's hoping you get fined for last night's display. I'll gladly put a coin dispenser in my front room for that.

Billy Goes Radio Ga-Ga

2011-08-04T17:15:00.003-04:00

Bill Bonds is about to get top billing, once again.

Consider yourself warned. The 78-year-old iconic newscaster, who has been the news almost as much as he's reported it, is teaming with another TV news vet in Detroit, Rich Fisher, and they're going to take radio by storm.

Well, maybe not by storm; let's shoot for by shower.

Bonds and Fisher will co-host, appropriately, "Bonds and Fisher," which will be an afternoon radio show on WCAR-AM (1090), the Little Station That Could. The gig starts on WCAR's 250-watt signal on October 3.

Neal Rubin, over at the Detroit News, gives a much more detailed version of how this all came to be in his column which ran today.

WCAR's station manager, the 33 year-old Sima Birach, Jr., wined and dined Bonds and got Billy to sign a makeshift contract on a cocktail napkin, according to Rubin's account. Hold the jokes about whether there was much more wining than dining. I know what you're thinking.

Birach told Bonds, "I grew up watching you," to which Bonds replied, "How did you like the way I covered the Civil War?"

Oh, that Billy!

Apparently, "Bonds and Fisher" won't be a show that will require cotton in the ears. Birach promises easy banter and discussion on topical issues between two old co-workers of channel 7's heyday.

Here's Bonds on Bonds, as told to Rubin: "My mind still works pretty well, the baby blues are still relatively blue, and the voice isn't bad."

Not sure about the voice. A year or so ago, channel 7 brought Bonds and John Kelly back to co-anchor an 11:00 newscast and Billy sounded a little rough around the edges.

So we'll see how Bonds handles the new radio show, which is set to run Monday thru Friday afternoons.

"Bonds & Fisher" will debut on October 3 on WCAR-AM (1090)

It was longtime friend Fisher who suggested Bonds to Birach, and the young station manager went to work courting a man who was 45 years old and who owned Detroit TV news when Birach was in diapers.

If nothing else, Birach is aggressive and has a vision.

"I'm surprised nobody else has tried this sooner," he says. "I don't care for the under-35 demographic. I want 45-to-75, on up.

"As an advertiser, who do you want to reach — a 25-year-old saving for a pair of sneakers, or a 70-year-old who can spend $300 for dinner?"

I wonder what Birach spent on dinner the night he got Billy Bonds to sign on the dotted line---of a cocktail napkin.

How appropriate, when you think about it.

Sorry---I couldn't resist.

Catch Me if You Can

2011-07-28T12:06:00.005-04:00

As far as serial rapists/sexual assailants go, the perp in Ann Arbor is moving with amazingly swift virulence.

Within two weeks, there have been six attacks on women, all late at night and all within the city proper. All victims have been between their late teens and early-30s.

And just in time for a new slew of freshmen girls who are arriving on campus in advance of the 2011-12 school year.

As the father of an 18-year-old daughter, I'm not sure what my emotions would be like if I had to drop her off at U-M now, right when these attacks are taking place.

Because one thing is certain: the assaults won't end until the assailant is caught; serial anything doesn't just stop, miraculously. The perp is either caught or dies---or else the crimes will continue.

The only thing preventing more killings than the four children who were sexually assaulted and killed by the Oakland County Child Killer in the mid-1970s was likely the death of the bad guy. That's long been the theory of law enforcement and it's got precedent.

These guys who commit repetitive crimes in serial fashion get too big of a thrill out of it to suddenly cease and desist.

They have to be caught or die in order for the attacks to stop.

But even as far as serial sexual assaults go, what's happening now in Ann Arbor is shocking. The number of reported attacks in the past nine days has been mind-numbing.

Jennifer Smith is an employee at a hoagie shop on South State Street.

"I've completely changed everything I do," she told the Detroit News. "This is probably the first time I've been worried about walking alone here."

The latest attack occurred Tuesday, when a 21-year-0ld woman went to her car on the 700 block of South State Street at 11:30 p.m. to fetch something. A man grabbed her from behind and fondled her before she managed an escape.

Police composite of the alleged suspect in the Ann Arbor attacks

Police aren't 100% certain that the attacks are the work of one man, because in some instances the victims are groped and fondled, and in some they're actually raped.

But if there is more than one person involved, police think they could be working in tandem.

Ann Arbor police chief Barnett Jones thinks the assailant---if it's one person---is a "predator" and "is doing some type of field work, lying and waiting for an opportunity" to strike.

"He knows what he's doing," Jones told the News.

That's always the scary thing about serial criminals; normally they're intelligent and have a game plan. The thrill is almost as much gotten from the prep work as it is from the crime itself.

That, and the satisfaction in the notion that the perp "fooled 'em again."

The power that someone must get from paralyzing an entire city's female population with fear must be very intoxicating.

The good news is that the more bold and brazen the assailant gets, the better chance that the police will catch him.

But how many more women have to be victimized before that happens?

The Ann Arbor serial rapist/sexual assailant will strike again, no question. These guys don't just get bored and stop.

Here's hoping he'll make the wrong move at the wrong time.

Not Going Postal

2011-07-26T16:39:00.005-04:00

When I was a child and used to visit my grandparents who lived in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, one of the things I remember doing was sometimes hopping into the car and grandpa driving several miles into the little town near where they lived---to get the mail.

Every day they made that trip, unless it was winter time---then the mail could wait until the roads were passable.

For most of us, a check of the mail means nothing more than padding to the front door, opening it, and peeking into the box. Being fully clothed isn't even required.

Can you imagine getting into your car and driving 10-15 minutes each way---just to check the freaking mail?

I wonder what will happen to those small, out of the way post offices, in light of the news that the U.S. Postal Service is closing 3,700 offices in order to cut costs.

And they have to do a lot of cutting.

The Postal Service needs to close a $20 billion gap in revenue by 2015.

The 3,700 offices that will close are spread out over all 50 states and Washington, D.C.

"The Postal Service of the future will be smaller, leaner and more competitive and it will continue to drive commerce, serve communities and deliver value," Postmaster General Patrick Donahoe said after releasing a list of the offices to be closed.

The closings are in addition to other cost-cutting ideas like a five-day delivery week, which I wrote about in this space back in November 2009.

It's not a big mystery why the Postal Service is bleeding money.

No one uses them anymore.

Well, not literally, but almost.

If it wasn't for junk mail and bills every week, your mailbox would be accumulating spider webs more than mail.

No one writes letters anymore. Fewer and fewer people are paying bills via the mail; they receive bills in the mail, but don't pay them that way. And more and more folks are getting their statements electronically.

When I was 14, I had a pen pal. His name was Michael Maurer and he lived in New Jersey. I think we got matched up via the Baseball Digest. He was a Yankees fan and I was a Tigers fan and we wrote to each other several times over the summer. The excitement was palpable whenever I found a letter from Michael in the mailbox.

I exchanged letters with my grandmother a lot, too, back in the day.

In fiscal year 2010, the Postal Service suffered an $8.5 billion net loss.

Most of the offices to be closed suffer from lack of foot traffic and some only register about $50 in sales a day.

Donahoe says the savings from the closings, which will start in the next four to six months, will be about $200 million.

But of course, these aren't just buildings that are being shuttered. Real people are involved here.

3,000 postmasters, 500 supervisors and 500-1,000 clerks will be out of work, thanks to the closings.

I'm not sure how we got here, despite the reduction of use in services. This didn't happen overnight. The Internet is growing fast, yes, but why do I feel like the Postal Service was slow to head off this kind of financial calamity?

Some post offices in small towns have held meetings to prepare to challenge any decision to close.

But the Postal Service is swimming in red ink. It's unlikely that any decisions to close offices will be reversed.

Once again, the Internet giveth and taketh away.

That's how it goes, with 21st century living.

No Borders? My Nose Knows

2011-07-21T11:34:00.005-04:00

The first thing I notice is the smell.

It's not an odor, it's a scent---tickling the olfactory nerves with its blend of the newly minted, the newly printed. Then there's sometimes a hint of coffee wafting from somewhere in the back.

I love walking into a bookstore.

The used bookstore has its own scents, and that blend is appealing, too.

But today I talk about the new bookstore, where nothing has been pre-owned, and the books have only been read by the patrons sitting in overstuffed chairs or on hardbacks as they sip their lattes.

The big box bookstore is dying a slow, agonizing death. It reminds me of the gradual yet pervasive disappearance of the drive-in movie theaters, "back in the day"---which was less than 20 years ago.

The announcement that Borders is liquidating, severing over 10,000 jobs across the country and over 400 in Ann Arbor alone, is sad beyond the job loss, which this economy hardly needs.

This isn't just a chain closing; it's maybe the harbinger of a piece of our soul being cut out of us.

For now, Barnes and Noble survives, but for how much longer?

It's another instance of how the Internet giveth and can taketh away.

There hasn't been an economic double-edged sword in recent times quite like the Internet.

Jobs have been created, but you get the feeling that more have been eliminated in this digital, e-age.

Amazon.com has been blamed, in part, for Borders' demise. More people are doing their browsing online---and not just website surfing. I'm talking actual BROWSING. Remember that?

Remember when you touched and felt the items you were considering for purchase? Remember when buying decisions were made on more than just a thumbnail photo on your computer's monitor?

The convenience of online shopping can't be overlooked. I admit that there's something wicked about "shopping" in your pajamas at 11:00 at night.

But then I walk into a bookstore, as I did last weekend (Barnes and Noble, in fact), and there was that smell again, beckoning me---that come hither scent of books, magazines, games and java.

That's java the coffee, not java the computer programming language.

R.I.P.

I don't even have to buy anything at a bookstore in order to enjoy myself. On Sunday I had some time to kill while the ladies in my life had fun at the Ulta makeup store. I spent some 15 minutes standing and crouching in front of the sports section of books, sliding one out on occasion to peruse.

I wandered over to the mystery section, and then the history area. Nearby were some spiritual books, one of which I actually purchased.

I have stabbed my nose into a book for purposes of just smelling it. I admit it. I smell books. Why? Because they smell good. I also love their newness, their crisp pages, their tight binding.

I could spend hours in a bookstore and buy little to nothing. It's the best babysitter for me, and my wife knows it.

There's a Borders near me, in Oakland Mall, though for how much longer, who knows. I was there last weekend, too.

I love the smell of a new bookstore.

You can't get that online.

Not that the cutthroat world of business cares much about that.

Drink Responsibly? HA!

2011-07-14T16:42:00.004-04:00

I enjoy a cold beer at the end of the day. In the evening, maybe a martini, or a scotch on the rocks.

That's the extent of my drinking, really.

A far cry from the fuzzy days of my college years, when we'd drink during happy hour, go home and take a nap, and then wake up at 10:00 at night, wondering what we were REALLY going to be doing that night.

I outgrew the alcohol thing by the time I was in my late-20s. That was 20 years ago.

Yet there are still those well into their 30s, or even my age, who still find the whole drink-till-you-drop thing, fun.

I guess I just don't get it.

Even when I was at my drinking best, circa 1982-88, I recognized how awful it could make me feel, whether that same night or the next day. I remember getting hammered at a bachelor party into the wee hours, then having to report to work the next morning to direct TV coverage of a parade.

Ugh.

So now, one beer, one drink, that's it. It's not about the buzz, it's about the flavor. The refreshing aspect of an ice cold beer, the calming warmth of a cocktail or splash of scotch over ice.

That's all I need.

I listen to 97.1 The Ticket quite often---the sports talk station. But they also deviate into non -sports talk, too---but definitely "man talk."

On occasion, one of the hosts there (I won't divulge his name) will talk about drinking and partying. And I know he's in his mid-30s.

Outside of that, I enjoy listening to him and his show. But when he talks about getting "wasted" and so drunk that a hangover is imminent, I am baffled.

I'm like, "Dude, grow UP!"

Besides, it sounds like drinking and driving are part of the "festivities."

I just don't get it.

I got all that stuff out of my system by the time I was 25 years old.

It saddens me that men in their mid-30s and beyond still find all that partying enjoyable.

Eight years ago, my family and I were on a boat ride, with many of my co-workers. It was an evening thing, very enjoyable.

Except that one of the sales people got so drunk, she was baring herself and acting like a lap dancer. And she was someone who had once run for local political office.

Her antics were so embarrassing---and our 10-year-old daughter was in attendance, along with other children---that I truly felt for her.

When I saw her a couple days later at work, I felt even worse for her. But she made her own bed.

I'm not anti-alcohol. I'm not a prude.

But I AM anti-immaturity. And gross irresponsibility.

It's not funny to see someone schnockered in public.

It's sad, and disturbing.

I'm fine with my one beer at the end of the day.

Plus, it doesn't make me feel like crap later.

First Lady, Indeed

2011-07-12T09:49:00.004-04:00

Betty Ford was one of the few First Ladies whose exploits and name recognition were greater than that of her husband's.

If you were going to compile a Top 5 List of All-Time Great First Ladies, you'd better put Mrs. Ford on it.

The caveat is that Betty Ford accomplished the lion's share of her fame after she left the White House. Then again, she was only a resident there for 29 months (August 1974-January 1977).

Betty Ford is being laid to rest today in Palm Desert, California, with several former First Ladies and Michelle Obama in attendance. Mrs. Ford died last week at age 93.

Outside of Eleanor Roosevelt, Betty Ford was the most politically and socially active First Lady in modern times. It started with her raising of awareness of breast cancer, after she underwent a mastectomy in 1974.

She wasn't a favorite among the conservative Republicans, despite her being a member of the GOP herself---along with her husband, Jerry. Her more moderate and sometimes liberal stance on social issues turned the conservative branch of the party off.

Betty Ford was in the White House in the salad days of the women's movement. She was actively in support of the Equal Rights Amendment, pro-choice when it came to abortion, and very vocal on the hot button issues of the day.

Betty Ford was no wallflower.

Then, of course, her most famous mark---the Betty Ford Rehab Center, which became known simply as "Betty Ford," as in, "I heard he checked into Betty Ford because of his addiction."

From Wikipedia:

In 1978, the Ford family staged an intervention and forced her to confront her alcoholism and an addiction to opioid analgesics that had been prescribed in the early 1960s for a pinched nerve. "I liked alcohol," she wrote in her 1987 memoir. "It made me feel warm. And I loved pills. They took away my tension and my pain."

In 1982, Betty Ford established the Betty Ford Center in Rancho Mirage, California, for the treatment of chemical dependency.

In 1991, Mrs. Ford was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom by George H.W. Bush. She received a Congressional Gold Medal in 1999.

Betty Ford: 1918-2011

Betty Ford was a groundbreaker, and a tough old lady who didn't really care all that much about what people thought of her or her ideas. Once she decided to take a stance or some action, that was that. A few presidents could have learned from her.

There's no telling how many people have had their lives literally saved by a stay (or two) at the Betty Ford Center. And there's no telling if the movements that Mrs. Ford lent her voice to would have been as successful, had she not. There's a good chance that they would not have, in retrospect.

Both she and her husband lived to be 93---becoming the first Presidential Couple to both live past their 90th birthdays.

Contrary to belief, Betty Ford wasn't born in Grand Rapids (she was born in Chicago), but she certainly grew up in Michigan's second-largest city.

Her giving ways began when she was still a teenager. She entertained and worked with children with disabilities at the Mary Free Bed Home for Crippled Children in the 1930s. She studied dance and graduated from a dancing school in 1935.

Maybe Betty Ford's affinity for life's underdogs took root when she lost her father at age 16 when he died of carbon monoxide poisoning while working on a car, despite the garage doors being open.

After being married for five years to William Warren, who she had known since age 12, Betty married Gerald Ford in 1948. The wedding was in mid-October, with Jerry a few weeks away from his first election as a Congressional candidate.

The New York Times reported about the timing of the wedding, "Jerry was running for Congress and wasn't sure how voters might feel about his marrying a divorced ex-dancer."

That divorced ex-dancer turned into one of the most adored, revered and respected women of her time, or of any time.

"I've learned a lot about myself," she once said. "Most of it is all right. When I add up the pluses and subtract the minuses, I still come out pretty well. "

Indeed. Rest in peace, Mrs. First Lady.

For Caylee

2011-07-07T14:48:00.003-04:00

Unfortunately, our criminal justice system doesn't allow for verdicts of "probably" or "who else?" or "are you kidding me?"

If so, little Caylee Anthony would have justice today. Her killer and any accomplice(s) would be destined to a life behind bars---until execution, as they do in Florida.

Instead, the jury in the most gripping, emotionally invested trial since that of O.J. Simpson rendered a decision that was a rejection of the prosecution's version of what happened.

This is because the prosecution, in the jury's eyes, failed to portray their version in that "beyond a reasonable doubt" way, which is a great threshold to have in place until it becomes inconvenient.

Perhaps we will never know what happened to Caylee, the precious little toddler who was discarded in a swamp like remnants of a picnic. But that won't protect her mother, the acquitted Casey, who now proceeds to live one of the most intriguing lives in recent memory.

What will happen to Casey? She's under real threat of violence. Hers is now a world where everyone---EVERYONE---will look at her cross-eyed. She may as well sew scarlet letters on all her blouses---"BK" for baby killer.

She may be acquitted, in a verdict that's as easy for the nation to swallow as a gallon of lye, but she's not exonerated. The grisly, tragic death of her daughter will follow her, forever.

Oh, Casey may make some dough off this enterprise. There might be a book, a movie, God knows what else. She's not guilty by law, so it's difficult to legally deny her any profits.

Casey Anthony's haul might be disgusting in its largesse, when all is said and done---and written. But she will forever be poor in character and in conscience. Unless she really is a sociopath, as some suspect.

Caylee Anthony: August 2005-June 2008

But even if she's guiltless in her soul, she's not about to live the life of an innocent person. She's 25 years old but her life might be over, for all intents and purposes. Who will hire her? Who will marry her? Who will have anything to do with her? Besides publishers and producers, that is.

It's little consolation, I know, for those of us aching to give Caylee her justice. But it's better than nothing. You're excused, in my book, if you choose to wish ill on Casey and those who may have helped her cover up Caylee's manner of death.

That's not very Christian, I know, but we aren't perfect people, either. We are prone to letting emotions get the best of us, especially when it comes to animals and kids and the elderly---the most defenseless among us.

You're going to hear it a lot in the next few days---Casey is going to be released from prison on July 13---that maybe her "not guilty" verdict was the worst thing that could happen to her, considering what her life on the outside is going to resemble.

Deep down we really don't believe that, but it is something to hold onto---that Casey Anthony will be a leper among us. Someone who will live a tortuous, lonely life.

It's not nice to wish a pox on another.

And little Caylee Anthony is dead.

So who do we go see about that?

The Book of Daniel

2011-07-05T11:21:00.003-04:00

The child actor is one of the most volatile of creatures---when he or she stops being a child actor and has to be, simply, an actor----or a person.

The road to Hell is paved not only with good intentions, but also with the souls of cherubic youngsters who had the misfortune of gaining fame before puberty.

No need to drag their names through the mud once more---chances are you know of whom I speak.

But there may be hope that the newest generation of kid actors and entertainers has learned from their predecessors.

Daniel Radcliffe, the bespectacled lead in the "Harry Potter" franchise, told GQ UK that he leaned on alcohol while filming "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince" in 2009.

But Radcliffe kicked the bottle, he says, last August.

"As much as I would love to be a person that goes to parties and has a couple of drinks and has a nice time, that doesn't work for me. I do that very unsuccessfully," Radcliffe told GQ UK. "I'd just rather sit at home and read, or talk to somebody that makes me laugh. There's no shame in enjoying the quiet life. And that's been the realization of the past few years for me."

That, and the love of a good woman---that age-old tonic, has appeared to also be a cure for the sauce.

"I'm actually enjoying the fact that I can have a relationship with my girlfriend where I'm really pleasant and not f--ing up totally all of the time," Radcliffe says.

The revelation of Radcliffe's bout with alcohol comes as the final installment of the franchise, "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows," approaches. It opens on July 15.

Radcliffe saw trouble brewing with alcohol and kicked it last August

It was another case of celebrity's bright lights and ubiquitous presence threatening to engulf a young performer.

“I became reliant on [alcohol] to enjoy stuff." Radcliffe says. "There were a few years there when I was just so enamored with the idea of living some sort of famous person’s lifestyle that really isn’t suited to me," he adds in the GQ UK interview according to U.K. paper the Telegraph.

Radcliffe considers himself lucky, because “I really got away with (it), because there were so many instances when a paparazzi shot like that could have been taken" while he was consuming heartily.

If this is a case of a professional and personal derailing being nipped in the bud, then it's a grand story, indeed. How many times has a celebrity as young as the 21-year-old Radcliffe been able to reel himself in before any serious damage is done?

Don't forget, Radcliffe has been doing this Harry Potter thing since before he was a teenager, as have his co-stars, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson. None of the three have so much as sniffed controversy off camera.

So maybe there's hope for today's child actor, after all.

It would be a change, I'll tell you that.

Love (?) Story

2011-06-28T15:40:00.005-04:00

Ordinarily I don't allow myself to get caught up in the private lives of celebrities. It's all I can do to manage my own private life.

But there is something fascinating, to me, about the schism between actor Ryan O'Neal and his daughter, Tatum, which is now being played out on a reality show called "The O'Neals" on Oprah Winfrey's OWN Network.

The two of them each had their chance to state their case on recent, separate episodes of Piers Morgan's show on CNN.

Tatum, who has a new book out, contends that her father is the root of many of her problems, like that of her drug addiction struggle. Ryan, for his part, says that Tatum never fully accepted his relationship with Farrah Fawcett, and that's when father and daughter drifted apart.

"She made my life---and Griffin's---very difficult," Ryan O'Neal told Morgan, also referring to Tatum's brother.

What captivates me about the O'Neals struggles is that they are, to me, genuine---which isn't always the case with reality TV, a genre that often blurs the line between fact and made-for-TV fiction.

But this isn't a made-for-TV estrangement; it's been going on for decades.

Ryan maintains he was a single parent and a damn good one, helping Tatum forge an acting career and exposing her to a world of culture and the arts.

Tatum says he also exposed her to drugs---or, at the very least, he wasn't exactly vigilant in keeping them away from her.

The father-daughter dynamic in this instance seems, on the one hand, to be broken---or at least damaged beyond full repair.

So why care?

Ryan O'Neal told Piers Morgan that if "The O'Neals" can help even one family examine their relationships, then the show is a success.

Ryan got emotional when the subject of his alleged "hitting" on Tatum at Farrah Fawcett's funeral was brought up.

The story goes---and it wasn't exactly denied by Tatum on Morgan's show---that Ryan O'Neal, not recognizing his daughter after many years of alienation, took the opportunity of seeing this blonde at the funeral home to ask her for a drink afterward.

The woman revealed herself to be Tatum.

Ryan O'Neal vehemently denied that version.

First, they had seen each other not long before the funeral. Second, Ryan told Morgan, when Tatum was a youngster, father and daughter would pretend to be a couple at a lavish party. Ryan would ask her, "You want a drink? You want a dance?" as part of the innocent roleplaying.

At Farrah's funeral, Ryan says he saw Tatum and, to break the ice, launched into the "You want a drink? You want a dance?" routine.

His voice quaking, lips trembling, Ryan asked Morgan, "Why throw your dad under the bus like that? Why portray him like that?"

Good questions.

As with any estrangement, both sides are to blame, and there are two sides to every story. Tatum was on Morgan's show first, and after watching Ryan's turn, it was impossible not to look sideways at Tatum's version.

But Ryan could have handled things better. He could have done a better job assuring his daughter that she was not being replaced by Farrah, and that his love for Farrah was a different love than that of his daughter.

Ryan O'Neal's acting career stalled out after films like "What's Up, Doc?" Tatum told Morgan she has her own theories as to why that is. When asked to reveal them, she clammed up.

Ryan, on his acting career: "I was OK. I wasn't great."

Agreed.

I haven't watched "The O'Neals." I likely never will, because the two interviews on Piers Morgan's show were satisfying enough.

I guess I still don't trust reality shows, as much as I think the O'Neals have real issues that long pre-dated their show on OWN.

I wish them well.

Peter Principal

2011-06-24T15:02:00.004-04:00

Peter Falk put on a trench coat and burrowed his way into our TV-watching psyche forever.

Falk was TV's "Columbo", but that was hardly the ceiling of his talents. Yet it was undoubtedly his most famous role in a career that wasn't too shabby for a guy with less-than-classic good looks, one good eye, and a raspy voice.

Falk passed away yesterday at age 83, having suffered from Alzheimer's Disease.

His brilliance in the role of police Lt. Columbo was that Falk didn't need the typical weapons other cops were using on television, to solve crimes. Columbo didn't need a gun---in fact, he never even carried one---he only needed his brain.

"Columbo" wasn't really a whodunnit, because within the first few minutes of every episode, we already knew who the perp was. The rest of the hour was spent watching Falk peck away at the bad guy's alibi until it resembled Swiss cheese.

Columbo did it all in a disarming---literally---fashion. He was a genuinely likeable fellow who came off, at first blush, as dundering and forgetful. But in reality he was whip smart and a crime-solving genius.

Falk's trademark, "Oh, one more thing," (or something similar) as he was about to leave the bad guy's presence, only to ask another question that invariably caused the suspect's knees to buckle, was one of the show's constants. You just never knew when it was going to occur.

But Falk was more than Columbo. He was a gifted actor whose turn in comedies like "The In-Laws" with Alan Arkin showed Falk's flair for comedic timing and sense of irony. Rent "The In-Laws" if you want to laugh out loud for two hours.

Falk was a New Yorker, born and bred. He had a glass eye (his right eye was surgically removed at age three) and it was after a failed screen test at Columbia Pictures that studio boss Harry Cohn told Falk, "for the same price I can get an actor with two eyes."

The turning point for Falk came in 1960, when he was nominated for an Academy Award for his role as a crime boss in "Murder, Inc." Later in the decade, Falk aligned himself with friend John Cassavetes and made some good movies like "Husbands" and "A Woman Under the Influence."

Then came "Columbo" in the early-1970s, and Falk became indelibly marked in the public's consciousness.

Falk was also an artist, a good chess player, and a huge fan of the NBA's New York Knicks.

It was said that Falk had slipped so badly into dementia that he could no longer remember the character of Lt. Columbo.

How ironic, because we'll never forget it.

The Inefficient Mayor

2011-06-21T15:43:00.003-04:00

Dave Bing can't hold the ball, turn to the ref and call timeout. He can't gather his cohorts in a 100-second huddle at courtside, whip out a clipboard and design a play to get himself out of the mess he's in.

Bing hasn't been in the middle of an NBA huddle since 1978, when he retired from the Boston Celtics. But he's still in a business filled with trash talking.

Bing, the mayor of Detroit, holds a job where the primary focus, always, is to battle the enemy from within. There are never any outside forces involved, really, when it comes to what ails Detroit. The city handles that department just fine, thank you.

I stumped for Bing to be Detroit's mayor. I felt he was the city's best shot---no pun intended---among those who would actually consider the job to begin with. There are several folks who would likely be better, but they either have too much sense or too low a threshold for pain.

So that left Bing, and what's happened recently at City Hall surprises me.

His staff is a mess. In Bing's NBA days, turnover was a dirty word, and it's even dirtier now, with people who can't beat it out of the mayor's administration fast enough.

Another strong-willed female mayoral staffer has been at the center of discussion lately---just as one was during Kwame Kilpatrick's tenure.

Karen Dumas, the mayor's close confidante and holder of the title of Communications Director, resigned last week. This after a furor in which she was portrayed in a whistleblower suit as being a power hungry, well---you know. It rhymes with rich.

But Dumas was no Christine Beatty, Kilpatrick's chief of staff. Dumas didn't sleep with her boss, number one. At least, we don't think so.

Bing: Last one out of the administration, turn off the lights!

Beatty was able to exert influence simply by flirting via text and making googly eyes at Kilpatrick. The ex-mayor, no small man, was reduced to pushover---like many men.

Bing was run roughshod over by Dumas, the suit alleges---culminating in a missed meeting with U.S. Senator Carl Levin so Dumas could instead go power shopping.

Dumas was just one of many who have packed their boxes and vacated their offices in recent days, as Bing desperately tries to fix a city without having to also worry about replenishing his staff.

The job of mayor of Detroit is hard enough, when things are going swimmingly among the ranks, without introducing mutiny to the mix.

Bing has been described by some insiders as lacking diplomatic skills and being more hands off than some would prefer. Too often, those people said, Bing would defer to his underlings in matters that he should be handling himself.

I don't know if that's true or not.

What I do know is that Dave Bing is spending too much precious time swatting at flies in his office than hunting for bear in the city proper.

Can't blame that on the outsiders.

TLC=LCD

2011-06-14T15:38:00.004-04:00

At the risk of showing my age, I actually recall when TV's TLC stood for The Learning Channel.

Now it means "The Lewd Channel."

To my horror, I saw a promo for a new TLC show called "Toddlers and Tiaras." Even by the title you can pretty much guess where the show is going, but you'd be wrong---it's much worse than you thought.

T&T aggrandizes the beauty pageants for, well, toddlers---and those children slightly older. But they do it in such an in-your-face, shameless way that it should make proper thinking people squirm.

The promo was filled with little girls ---and I DO mean little girls---with their faces painted like ladies of the night, wearing grown up gowns and that alone was enough for me to shudder.

Then here comes the next worse thing---the moms of these girls. The parental units who are supposed to protect their daughters from this kind of pressure and judgmental eyes are the very ones plunging the kids into this morass.

After viewing the promo, our 18-year-old daughter said, "This show is a pedophile's dream."

No doubt. I imagine T&T is on the DVRs of child molesters everywhere.

I braved a peek at the show's website, which used words like "sassy" to describe one of the pageant's tiny contestants.

These girls should be playing with dolls, not looking like them.

This is a real girl, not a doll, believe it or not (Makenzie of "Toddlers and Tiaras")

From the show's website:

"On any given weekend across the country, toddlers take the stage wearing makeup, spray tans and fake hair to be judged on beauty, personality and costumes.

Toddlers and Tiaras follows families on their quest for sparkly crowns, big titles and lots of cash."

Don't underestimate the power of that last one: "lots of cash."

Apparently the two main competitors are Makenzie and Eden, because the site asks visitors to vote for which "team" they're on---Team Makenzie or Team Eden. I'm not making this up.

Besides, ever since the JonBenet Ramsey killing, I'm haunted by the images of that little girl, who'd be about 20 now, dressed up and made up for her pageant days.

I hope that it's not true that, according to TLC, "on any given weekend" there are pageants like this involving children going on in this country. But they're probably right, which is disconcerting.

But it's the parents that shoulder the blame. Don't tell me that the kids go up to mommy and say, "I want to be in a pageant!"

Any mother that would willingly and knowingly throw her daughter into such a cesspool, where the child is ogled and judged for "beauty," is off her rocker.

The show's website adds, "But once at the pageant, it's all up to the judges and drama ensues when every parent wants to prove that their child is beautiful."

Oh, God.

Every child IS beautiful, you nimrods. TLC may not get that, but the fact that the mothers don't, either, makes me want to barf.

The show will draw millions of viewers, of course, which is another indictment on our society. Who's worse: the mothers of the children in the pageant, or the people watching it?

Reality TV and competition shows have been invading television and absorbing it, like that old horror creature, The Blob. Just when you think it can't get any more ridiculous and salacious, here comes Toddlers and Tiaras to remind us that yes, it can!

TLC used to stand for something. It used to bring us thought-provoking television. It used to be above board.

Not anymore.

This is disgusting.

Jack's in the Box

2011-06-07T12:30:00.003-04:00

The people who get us talking about things aren't always those who you'd like to actually talk about those things with.

Dr. Jack Kevorkian was one of those people.

Kevorkian, "Doctor Death," was laid to rest the other day and no matter what you thought about him or his ideas, you're a liar if you say he didn't get you talking and thinking about assisted suicide.

But would you have liked to have lunch with Kevorkian and rap about it? Unlikely. Kevorkian had to be an assisted suicide physician. He just looked the part: a long, drawn face, boney body---he looked like a gothic character from an old book of nursery rhymes.

Kevorkian wasn't just a man's name, it was a word that became part of our lexicon, used by people in all fields to describe a variety of situations.

I remember the NBA coach Don Nelson commenting after his team beat the Pistons in Detroit. Nelson said it wasn't appropriate for Pistons fans to overreact to the loss, which came on opening night.

"This is no time to pull a Kevorkian," Nelson said.

"Call Kevorkian!" people would playfully and kiddingly tell their pals when something would go awry. Stand-up comedians had a field day with Doctor Death.

But it was all very serious, of course---Kevorkian's little machine and what it could do and why it was doing it.

I think Kevorkian had a good idea that he took in a wrong direction.

Dr. Kevorkian, dressed like Mr. Rogers, with his "death machine"

How dare any of us tell someone who is suffering from excruciating pain as a result of a terminal or otherwise debilitating illness, that they ought to keep living?

This is one of those issues, like capital punishment, that's easy to take an unfavorable view of, until it hits close to home.

You can be anti-capital punishment, but what happens when a loved one is killed by a scumbag?

You can preach pro-life to Kevorkian's "patients", until you see a spouse wither away, out of their mind with pain and with the quality of life of a gnat.

But Kevorkian went wrong when he began to openly mock those who dared question him, and even though he spoke of "dying with dignity," he began leaving bodies in vans in parking lots, like a serial killer.

Where's the dignity in that?

The other troubling thing about Kevorkian's mission was that it was highly questionable as to whether his goal was to save life or to fuel the decision to end it. In other words, were Kevorkian's assisted suicides always performed as a last resort, or did anyone with an inkling to end it all get strapped into the former pathologist's machine, no questions asked?

All told, Kevorkian supposedly assisted in about 130 deaths.

It's too bad that Kevorkian was the symbol for assisted suicide. I can't help but wonder if another doctor would have handled it differently. I wonder how different the assisted suicide movement would have looked had Kevorkian not taken it in such a defiant, creepy direction.

But Kevorkian got us talking, that's for sure. And that's rarely a bad thing.

Don't Touch That Dial!

2011-06-02T14:13:00.004-04:00

I've been stuck in a time warp, yet again.

Those who've dared to view this space to see what I'm blathering about now, know that I tend to enjoy living in the past.

Well, is the present so nifty?

My latest jag is to point my browser to YouTube and start searching for old commercials---beer, food, even cigarettes.

I'm talking REALLY old commercials, circa the 1950s and '60s, mostly in black-and-white.

The commercials of those days were typically no less than 60 seconds, and sometimes longer. They weren't filled with eye-popping special effects or talking babies or scores of beautiful young people breaking into an impromptu party just because one of them popped open a cooler of light beer.

The commercials that I've been fixed on show a simpler time, when a cold beer was something enjoyed by well-dressed couples inside a spiffy tavern, served by well-dressed waiters and drawn by well-dressed bartenders.

It was a time when little kids ran home to partake in Beefaroni or Spaghetti-O's or a new thing called Pop-Tarts.

"Mabel!! Another Black Label!"

But mainly the commercials portrayed what had to have been a much less stressful world, because when I view them now it's almost like comfort food for the soul.

And there were the jingles. Oh, the jingles. Some weren't just jingles; they were entire songs, practically.

Remember the Oscar Meyer theme? The "Have it Your Way" diddy for Burger King?

Or how about the ads for Cracker Jack, featuring grandfatherly Jack Gilford and various young children, enjoying some of the caramel corn/peanut mix together---and marveling at the prize inside the box?

Always 60 seconds, and always selling a story in addition to selling a product.

The ones I particularly get a kick out of are the ads that ran during the intermissions at the drive-in theater decades ago. The visuals are priceless---the way they make popcorn, hot dogs and a fudge bar look absolutely delectable and a must-have, right NOW!

The narration back then was beautifully succinct and almost newsreel-like, voiced over by unknown studio announcers, not the actors we hear today hawking everything from cars to the do-it-yourself stores.

Sometimes it was tough to tell the difference between a TV commercial voice-over and the start of the evening news.

But I like that, for whatever reason.

We use the word "cozy" a lot around our house. We're big fans of cozy things. I find the old-time TV ads wonderfully cozy. They make me feel better, in a world where it's tough to feel good for too long a time, it seems.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled blog.

Que Sarah, Sarah

2011-05-26T16:12:00.004-04:00

So Sarah Palin says she has the "fire in my belly" to make a run for president in 2012.

That's funny, because I also get a sensation in my belly at the thought of Palin as president, though I somehow doubt it's the same as hers.

Actually, bring it, Sarah; a Palin campaign would be a carnival like few we've seen in recent presidential election years.

How fun it would be to hear what she says next. There'd be thrills and chills and spills. You wouldn't be able to look away, while the "Palin for President" show tours the country, the star speaking to us from the back of its caboose.

At least a snake oil salesman has snake oil to cure whatever ails you. Palin is all talk and no solutions. Her snake oil seems to be nothing more than placebo.

She says she wants to "preserve what is good for America."

If that doesn't sound like the usual "I'm more American than you" blather that the folks on the right incessantly spout, then I don't know what does.

Sarah Palin is an attractive woman, no question. She would not only be our first female president, but also the first real eye-grabber since John Kennedy. President Obama isn't a dog, either, but Palin's looks are sizzling. My opinion.

But sooner or later, you see, you have to stand for something when you run for president. And this is where Sarah falls woefully short of the smell test.

It's oh-so-easy to rail against folks, but sooner or later you have to offer up what you would do in their stead.

Palin, to me, only stands against things. Yes, she makes cornpone sound bites like the one I cited above. But tell me, what does Sarah Palin truly stand for? Better yet, what is her vision? What is her foreign policy agenda? What does she want to accomplish in her First 100 Days?

Where does she want to take the country? What's her plan for Medicare? For Social Security? For handling North Korea? How would she continue to stimulate a sluggish economy? How would she create jobs? What are her views on energy? What plans does she have for fixing our education system?

To name a few.

Come on in, Sarah! The water's fine!

We don't really know her views on any of the above; certainly, we haven't heard her game plans for any of them.

Sarah Palin's supporters, I believe, like the idea of Sarah Palin. They look at her as the anti-Obama, which is true.

But cut a little deeper---say, one layer will do it---and they'll find that Palin has no substance. Not to mention she's an intellectual lightweight that we haven't seen the likes of since Dan Quayle---or maybe George W. Bush.

Regardless, Palin is eye candy and little more. We can all blame John McCain for this, by the way. Had he not made the inexplicable decision to pluck her as his VP candidate in 2008, Palin would still be harmlessly roving Alaska.

And as for this "fire in her belly"?

"It's a matter for me for some practical, pragmatic decisions that have to be made," Palin said on FOX News last week.

What's the over/under as to whether she even knows what "pragmatic" means?

I'm not suggesting that Sarah Palin is a dumb blonde.

Last I checked, she's brunette.

Thad Guy McCotter!

2011-05-24T11:23:00.005-04:00

Imagine, a kid from Livonia, my hometown, growing up to be president!

No, not talking about me. My political aspirations don't even extend to school board.

I'm talking about Thad McCotter, the Republican House member who is, according to reports, putting together exploratory committees and other things that would-be presidential candidates do about eight months before the primaries.

McCotter plays electric guitar, quotes from Led Zeppelin lyrics, and is in his fifth two-year Congressional term. He would be the first president born after me, which should either make me feel old or wise.

McCotter plans to formally make his announcement in two weeks, according to POLITICO.

Never mind that Thad would be a virtual unknown, because if there ever was a time to enter the fray as an unknown Republican, it's now.

Clinton had his sax, and McCotter might take his licks, too

In a race where "No, not him" and "No, not HER" are the two leading GOP candidates, the Republicans, who badly need new blood at the top of their political totem pole, might be best served to prop up someone like McCotter, who's been praised a few times over at FOX, by people like conservative columnist S.E. Cupp.

McCotter has some moderate in him, and appears as a peacemaker when it comes to labor-management disputes, as opposed to staunchly in favor of one or the other.

Besides, it doesn't look like President Obama can be had; the prez is gaining momentum and as we saw in 2008, he's a marvelous campaigner.

So why not put someone like McCotter at the forefront and see what kind of support someone of his ilk can garner? Yeah, it might be like waving a white flag, but if it helps the GOP cause in 2016, when they won't be running against a sitting president, then what do they have to lose?

Besides the presidency, of course, but they may not be able to snatch that anyhow.

Thad McCotter, Livonia kid made good.

Talk about showing the rest of us up.

One Man Band

2011-05-19T16:06:00.004-04:00

Dave Bing reminds me of the beleaguered high school teacher who is all fired up about his subject, but his students just stare at him, glassy-eyed, not knowing what to make of him, and certainly not jazzed up to share his enthusiasm---even if what the teacher is imparting is invaluable to their well-being.

Bing, the mayor of Detroit, seems, on many occasions, to be the only one miffed at what's going on around him. His populace suffers from social inertia.

When, oh when, will the city's residents stand up and scream that they're not going to take it anymore?

Not going to stand for the corruption and the violence and the misuse of their hard-earned tax dollars?

Not going to put up with lousy city services and response times from emergency vehicles and the police that are obscene?

The latest malfeasance is the misuse of funds at the Human Services Department, in which about $200,000 that was earmarked for helping the poor instead went to furniture purchases.

The mayor has suspended the department's director and several staff members, part of his promise to usher in sweeping changes to crack down on decades of corruption.

That's all well and good, but Bing seems to be a party of one here.

Bing: A lone wolf?

Where's the outrage? Where are the advocates for the people, demanding these changes long before the mayor made them?

Is $200K just a drop in the bucket?

Detroiters apparently don't care about their city anymore. Their inertia, to me, is the ultimate white flag. Perhaps their spirit truly is broken. They are desensitized---their eyes collectively soulless.

The Human Services Department spends $200,000 on furniture instead of on the poor and no one says boo. Who knows how much that kind of stuff had gone on before it was uncovered by a Detroit Free Press investigation last week.

Is anyone going to join Mayor Bing in his watchdog ways?

We'll see what other "sweeping changes" the mayor plans in his fight against corruption. We'll also see who joins him in his outrage.

So far, I'm unimpressed. And not surprised. I wonder which is worse.

Isle of Newt

2011-05-17T14:33:00.004-04:00

Already, Newt Gingrich is being described by some in the media as the "embattled" GOP presidential candidate. And this is some 18 months before the election.

It gets worse for Newt, as some are going even further, and changing the word "embattled" to "former."

Newt's fledgling candidacy seems to have the aerodynamics of a lead balloon.

The razor-tongued Gingrich has been praised by supporters for his "honesty" and refusal to pull punches. Looks like that punching bag just snapped back and caught Newt square in the jaw.

Gingrich has been an equal opportunity offender of the right, cutting a swath from Rush Limbaugh to Paul Ryan and many people in between. Newt is becoming an island of one.

On Sunday, fresh off his announcement of his candidacy, Gingrich described the House GOP's plan for Medicare "right wing social engineering," while at the same time being a proponent of individual mandates in health care---which is just the sort of thing that his fellow Republicans couldn't stand about President Obama's plan.

Before those comments, he made a flippant one about Detroit, which was deemed racist, because it had to do with food stamps.

"We don't want all our cities to be Detroit," Newt said, as I barely paraphrase.

Before he contracted hoof-in-mouth disease, Gingrich was already going to have to deal with assassination attempts on his character and charges of hypocrisy, as it turns out that at the same time he was leading the pitchforks and torches against President Clinton's sexual misdeeds, Newt was engaging in dalliances of his own.

Of course, Newt says he has "made peace" with God and his family, and he's a better person now. Funny how an apology is good enough for the accuser, when he's under fire, but not sufficient if the accused offers one up.

But it may all be moot, as Gingrich's candidacy might be finished before Memorial Day---of 2011.

At this rate, with Newt on the ropes and Donald Trump's made-for-TV candidacy self-canceled and Mike Huckabee not running, Mitt Romney might be the frontrunner by default on the Republican side. And Mitt has had verbal mishaps in the past, too.

But in the end, will any of it matter? Suddenly, Obama vs. Candidate X looks like it could be a replay of Clinton-Dole, 1996. The president is on a roll now, but again, we're 18 months away from the general election---but only eight months from primary season.

It may have taken some folks a little while to re-process who Newt Gingrich is/was when his candidacy was whispered about a few months ago, but he was kind enough to remind us, forthwith---like in the first hours of Opening Day.

That promptness might have stalled Newt before he got halfway to the first turn.

Mama’s (and Sis’s and Wife’s) Boy

2011-05-12T12:48:00.000-04:00

For those who held out a sliver of hope that disgraced Detroit mayor Kwame Kilpatrick would learn from his mistakes and come out of everything a better man, I’m afraid today is a sad day.

Kilpatrick continues to beat the drum of victim, deflecting every attempt to get him to own up to his actions. The latest are his bleatings, through his family mouthpieces, that the text message scandal is making him depressed, angry and fearful of the future.

Those mean old Skytel folks, in the World According to Kwame, are the real villains. Had they not released the highly incriminating and maybe even more embarrassing text messages between Kilpatrick and his aide/mistress Christine Beatty, then everything would be hunky-dory.

Now comes the revelation that Kilpatrick will never be a man, after all. For he has, surrounding him, a fortress of apologists and enablers—all women, by the way—who are feeding into his crocodile tear mentality.

Brian Dickerson, Free Press columnist, wrote in today’s edition that a series of interviews between psychiatrist Norman Miller and the women closest to Kwame—mother Carolyn, sister Aiyanna and wife Carlita—have come to light, which blatantly show why the ex-mayor and current convict just ain’t never gonna get it.

Kilpatrick, with mother Carolyn Cheeks Kilpatrick at right, celebrates his re-election in 2005

And there go the last vestiges of hope that Kwame Kilpatrick will somehow ever be reformed.

How can he, when he is insulated by people whose only purpose, it seems, is to tell him what he wants to hear, and feed tripe to the rest of us?

Here’s a sampling of what Kwame’s ladies had to say, in case you haven’t already clicked on Dickerson’s link:

Mother Carolyn explaining how corrupt judges and jealous journalists railroaded the light of her life: “My son is a political prisoner … he is just so confused about how all this happened.”

Here’s sister Aiyanna: “It is gut-wrenching [for him] to relive the unfairness … I think his anger is toward the company that released the texts and started this windfall of unjust activity toward him.”

And here’s wife Carlita, lamenting “the emptiness that exists from being away from your children and family so long, especially because we see it is so unfair and we can’t get justice.”

“Do you see the release of the text messages as the primary moving cause?” psychiatrist Miller asked Carlita.

“Yes,” she answered. “I fully believe the release of them really started all of the ball rolling.”

Are you nauseous yet?

I count myself among the fools.

I thought Kilpatrick, because he’s still relatively young, might look at his imprisonment as having hit bottom, and would therefore be a better man five, ten years down the road. Politics would be out of the picture, but perhaps he could re-enter civilian life in the private sector and make something of himself, after all.

But after reading how Kwame’s ladies are covering for him and all but pressing him to their bosom, you can forget about any rehab.

Oh, how it could have been so different.

Kwame Kilpatrick, when he was elected mayor in 2001, could have been the best and brightest thing to hit Detroit since the Model T. He was young, vibrant, and big in both stature and importance. He had an attractive family and Detroit could have, by now, be about 10 years into a revival.

Now look at him, and look at the charges he leaves behind.

I’m not sure which is more revolting—Kwame’s behavior or that of the women who are too eager to give him emotional sanctuary at the expense of his loss of manhood.

Photo Opportunity

2011-05-05T15:39:00.004-04:00

The matter of desiring the release of photographs showing a very dead Osama bin Laden has absolutely nothing to do with a thirst for morbidness or a sick desire to see such graphic images.

At least, not through these eyes.

President Obama steadfastly made the decision not to release the graphic photos to satisfy those seeking proof that bin Laden has, indeed, been eliminated. He told CBS' "60 Minutes" in an interview that will air on Sunday that the decision was fairly easy for him to make.

"Spiking the football" has been the term used to describe what releasing the photos would be, in allegory.

The fear is that releasing such images would put Americans in danger, globally. There are other reasons, too---including that we "don't do that kind of thing."

The words in quotes are not the president's, but rather an overall feeling that many pundits have demonstrated over the past few days.

What hasn't really been discussed too loudly is what the families of the 9/11 victims have to say about all this.

I don't think it's such a slam dunk for them, that these photos not be released.

The real one ought to be seen, too

It's easy for those not directly touched by 9/11---in terms of losing loved ones---to take the high road and declare the photos to be off limits.

Where are the advocates for the families? They ought to be crying for the photos.

You ever hear of closure?

Why hasn't anyone considered how much the viewing of a dead bin Laden might help the grieving process?

It's like in the cases of capital punishment. when the victims of the condemned are invited to witness the execution.

Would all victims' families want to view the photos? Of course not. But would some? You bet your sweet bippy---and more than just some.

I just don't know how much the release of the photos imperils us more as a nation, whether here or overseas. I'm pretty sure that train left the station when it was confirmed that bin Laden had been killed.

You think the terrorists are thinking, "Well, as long as they don't show the pictures of our dead leader, then we're good. But as soon as we see images, then it's on!!"

Please.

I respect Obama's decision, because it was made with little emotion and was very presidential.

I'm just a little taken aback that no one is advocating for the families of the 9/11 victims on this hot button issue. If someone is, then I'm missing it or it's not very loud.

Viewing gruesome photos of a dead Osama bin Laden isn't what I crave, personally. But I think those directly affected by his evilness ought to have the option of looking at the images, if they feel it would bring closure and drive home the nail of justice.

This isn't about spiking any imaginary football. It's about compassion for the families of bin Laden's murder victims.

Oh Happy Day...

2011-05-03T12:28:00.002-04:00

I'm tired of being told how to act, how to behave.

When I say "I", I mean "we". Confused yet?

I'm talking about the spontaneous displays of celebration that popped up across the country on Sunday night in the wake of the news of the death of master terrorist Osama bin Laden.

Bin Laden's death was the first good news that the United States has had, collectively, in my lifetime. I wasn't around for V-J Day or V-E Day, which marked the end of WWII.

What else that has occurred over the past five decades has been such cause for elation?

Man on the moon in 1969? Perhaps, but we were more enthralled than we were ecstatic.

The hostages being released from Iran in 1981? That happiness was muted by the fact that we were a little red-faced for having had our citizens in the clutches of the Ayatollah Khomeini for as long as he had them. That was more relief than giddiness.

The election of President Obama, the first African-American president, had them dancing in the streets, but that was also very partisan in nature.

I think this country needs something to feel good about, don't you?

I thought it was terrific, the outpouring of patriotism and pride I saw break out. The crowd at the Mets-Phillies baseball game broke into a chant of "USA! USA!"

Yet there were some wringing their hands, both here and abroad, worried about what the rest of the world would think as images of Americans celebrating were beamed across the globe.

That's where I get tired.

Far be it from us to be happy, huh?

Whether we celebrate or not, the U.S.'s taking out of Bin Laden is going to be reacted to, by those who would react adversely, the way they're going to react. We can't help that.

So in the words of Rhett Butler, "Frankly, I don't give a damn."

We deserve to celebrate something, collectively, as one nation. It's been a long time coming.

Granted, the killing of OBL doesn't necessarily make us safer. Doesn't necessarily mean we can all take a deep breath and exhale. There are still bad guys out there who want to do Americans harm, whether it be on our soil or elsewhere.

I get all that.

But you can't tell me that the fulfillment of justice, if only for the thousands of Americans who lost loved ones on 9/11, isn't enough to twist and shout spontaneously on our streets and wherever else we damn well please.

I'm especially perturbed at those here at home---I've heard them on the radio, seen them on TV---who have said that they found the celebrations to be on the distasteful side.

I don't know what they were looking at. All I saw were people---many of them younger---waving U.S. flags, hooting and hollering, having themselves a grand old (and peaceful) time.

The killing of a man who has more American blood on his hands than any other in recent history, ought to be celebrated. You think we were sad, solemn and reflective the day Hitler died? Ask your parents and grandparents about that one.

Then again, I suspect those who winced at the giddiness don't have any loved ones who were lost on 9/11.

I don't, either, thank goodness, but I certainly see why there is joy in the streets. And I can understand why those whose lives weren't directly affected by 9/11 would still feel an overwhelming sense of pride and patriotism.

If this isn't the event that forces us to take off our Democrat/Republican/Tea Party masks, at least briefly, then I don't know what will do it.

We ought to be able to cut loose a little bit and not have fellow Americans frown on us.

If this isn't the time, then when is?

I know---when the troops come home.

Now THERE'S something to boogie to!

Katie Didn't

2011-04-26T10:56:00.006-04:00

America has spoken, and they have done so loud and clear.

We don't want "cute and perky" delivering our news. At least not nationally.

Katie Couric will soon be bidding CBS goodbye, the nearly five-year experiment of her anchoring the CBS Evening News officially a failure.

Couric started reading the TelePrompTers for CBS in 2006, fresh off her run on the "Today" show, the only female among the three major networks who delivered the evening news during the week. The "fish out of water" move was designed to carve into the ratings gap separating CBS from their counterparts, ABC and NBC.

By that measure, the hiring of Couric was a colossal mistake for CBS.

Recent numbers put CBS's newscast at an average of 6.1 million viewers nightly, far behind ABC (8.1) and leader NBC (9.2).

Apparently when it comes to network news, it'd better be delivered by someone who isn't cute and perky, and who isn't a woman.

Couric: Cute and perky didn't do it

In fairness, Couric didn't project the same persona reading the news as she did kibitzing on "Today," but that is what many viewers must have seen when they passed her by while channel surfing: the same pixie doll whose smile lit up the morning airwaves.

For whatever reason, females anchoring the network newscast have been very few and very far between. ABC made an infamous blunder back in the mid-1970s when they partnered Barbara Walters with curmudgeon Harry Reasoner. The two of them had the same chemistry properties as oil and water when mixed.

Now, with Couric leaving when her contract expires this summer, it would be surprising if another woman was given a shot in the near future.

Don't weep for her, though. Couric is still too big a name to be unemployed for very long. In fact, the buzz is that she already has another project lined up.

Couric's departure has had a lot of "imminent" to it for at least two years, when word leaked that CBS executives were squirming in their seats because of the tepid numbers that Couric was bringing them. It's not all her fault, however; CBS's numbers were in the tank before they hired Couric.

I don't watch the news, local or national, because I find it too depressing. I read the newspaper, and the newspaper on the Internet, since I only get a paper-paper three days a week. So I'm not one to ask when it comes to, "Which network newscast do you like the best?"

Clearly, NBC has held that position on the mantel for a long time, with Brian Williams kicking everyone's rear end.

After five years and no discernible uptick in viewership, it's also clear that Couric being female, and being a perky one, didn't float a lot of boats in TV land.

We still like suits and ties and humorless when it comes to TV network news.

Ladies, you haven't come as long of a way as you think, baby!

Sadly.

A Word About Our (Shrinking) Sponsors

2011-04-19T12:40:00.004-04:00

Doesn't anyone ever advertise on television anymore?

That might seem like a foolish statement, because Lord knows our favorite TV programs are chopped up like stir-fry vegetables so that 2-3 minute commercial breaks can be added.

But the TV advertisement market seems to have been cornered by just a few categories: prescription drugs, beer, cars, car insurance and wireless gizmos. Those five seem to dominate 80% of the break time, with the remaining 20% scattered into far less significant groups.

Where are the cereal ads? Big Boy commercials? Laundry detergent ads? Candy and gum spots?

The memories of my youth, when it comes to ads on TV, keep pointing to iconic characters like Madge (Palmolive dish soap); the Tidy Bowl Man; Jack Guilford's old man in the "Cracker Jack" spots; Mr. Whipple (Charmin bath tissue); the folks on the boat singing about Faygo; and a plethora of cereal characters (Toucan Sam, Cap'n Crunch, the Trix rabbit, etc).

The commercials back then were typically 60 seconds in length, so the ad agency folks had much more time for character development over the course of their campaign. A 60-second Cap'n Crunch commercial could just about tell and entire story---while also keeping firmly in mind that it was cereal they were hawking.

Today's artsy-fartsy spots often leave you hanging as to what they're even advertising until the final few seconds.

I suppose Flo, the Progressive Insurance Girl, is an example of today's iconic characters of advertising. That's fine. At least those ads are plentiful in their variety. Who else is already sick of the wireless gizmo commercial with the two guys on the ski lift? And it's only been on the air for a few weeks.

Mr. Whipple!!

We used to see Madge a lot, working in her salon, dipping a unsuspecting woman's fingers into a bowl of Palmolive. That's true. But the women were different and even though the gist was the same and the catch phrases never changed, there was still an element of variety to the campaign.

Gone are the days when commercial catch phrases made their way into the public consciousness.

The last was probably the Wendy's spots with old Clara Peller, who crabbily asked, "Where's the beef?!"

Even George H.W. Bush stole it for political gain.

I am so tired of prescription drug ads. And, they make me angry, because I can't help but think that the cost of those ads are part of why their products' prices are ballooning.

Even Coke and Pepsi have given up; they don't advertise much anymore, either.

Thank goodness for YouTube, where you can easily get lost searching for and viewing classic TV commercials from various decades. What a treasure trove of nostalgia!

I now return you to your regularly scheduled blog...

Our Little Early Bird

2011-04-14T10:38:00.003-04:00

I'm not one to get too personal in this space but sometimes you just have to make an exception.

It was 18 years ago today, at 3:57 p.m. to be exact, when the medical staff at William Beaumont Hospital in Royal Oak cut a 2 lb, 14 oz little pipsqueak of a girl out of my wife in an emergency C-section. The screaming, wiggling little thing could have fit in a shoebox but gave the nurses all they could handle.

Our daughter was a preemie, and there was no place better to take care of her than at Beaumont, which had---and still has---an outstanding neo-natal care department.

My wife had been laid up with toxemia in the months leading up to the birth, which wasn't supposed to occur until sometime in June. But during a routine check-up on Good Friday, 1993, her doctor advised her to go to Beaumont, and not to pass GO and not to collect $200.

We thought there were simply going to be some more tests and that she'd be home by the end of the day.

Imagine my surprise when, the next time I saw my bride (we'd just been married since September and our daughter was conceived on our honeymoon), she was being wheeled out to the waiting room, in a wheelchair and a hospital gown.

So much for being home by the end of the day.

It was soon determined, after getting my wife a bed in a semi-private room, that the baby---our baby not due until early-June---would have to be delivered, by hook or by crook.

They induced my wife with pitocin, which is standard. But after a day of that, it was evident that a vaginal birth was unlikely.

I spent the night with her and the next day, after another morning of waiting for the bun to come out of the oven, and with family in the waiting room, suddenly everything got frenetic.

In a flash, there were more nurses than usual and the bed was being wheeled away and I was handed a blue gown, hat, and mask.

The bed was wheeled down the hall, toward the delivery room. There wasn't panic, just urgency.

OK, maybe I panicked a little.

Upon entering the delivery room, I was told not to touch anything that was color coded blue. I remember saying, "I will not touch anything blue." That's a good time to follow orders.

I held my wife's hand and I'd never held the hand of anyone so cold who was still alive. The anesthesiologist sat next to me. I remember asking if she was supposed to be so cold. I don't remember what he said. Probably, "Yes, now shut up."

Several minutes passed and I heard someone shout, "Sharon, would you like to see your baby coming out?" and they held a giant mirror for her---and me. Only, I looked away. Sorry---too much that I didn't want to see.

Then, the baby was out and she was being carried to a nearby table. I was told to come see.

The first words out of my mouth, and I'll never forget it, were, "Is she going to be OK??!!!"

The reason for my concern was the wiggling, purple and red person I was staring at. She was SO SMALL. Turns out she wasn't even three pounds, which means she wasn't even as heavy as a bag of sugar. As I said, a shoebox would have been a suitable abode.

The nurses assured me that, yes, she'd be OK.

For about two months, our little girl lived in Beaumont's NICU, in an isolette, wires attached to her body and often her eyes covered to protect them from the harsh light. Everyday we visited, my wife twice a day---once in the day and again with me in the evening after I left work.

Finally, on June 4, 1993, our little Nikki came home---and even then she barely scraped the scales at four pounds.

Looking back, we should have been more scared, but the staff at Beaumont was so good and competent, and their reputation was so stellar, that I guess our fears were alleviated. That, and Nikki never encountered any serious health concerns while in the hospital; that helped.

Turns out that my wife's regular doctor had difficulty delivering her because of the position of the baby. Thankfully, the head of the department was in the hallway, purely by chance. And he was summoned, with both my wife and our baby's survival in jeopardy. He used his experience and skill in safely extricating our child.

This I found out later, and I'm glad I did. I didn't care to know that at the time!

So Happy Birthday, Nicole. You're officially an adult. But always our baby.

The Organized Assassin

2011-04-12T13:17:00.005-04:00

It has often been the M.O. of the American assassin to not have much of an exit strategy---no real end game beyond committing the act itself.

Leon Czolgosz had absolutely no chance of escape following the murder of President McKinley in 1901. Same with Charles Guiteau, killer of President Garfield 20 years earlier.

Witness the random, aimless meanderings of Lee Harvey Oswald following the shooting of President Kennedy, when he couldn't even get out of town despite the chaos within it.

There was one exception, however.

One hundred and forty-six years ago Thursday, actor and miscreant John Wilkes Booth sneaked into the suite of President Abraham Lincoln in Washington's Ford's Theater and shot him point blank in the back of the skull.

Booth's mission was accomplished; Lincoln was mortally wounded and he would die several hours later.

Beyond that, Booth knew what he wanted to do---get out of Dodge, and fast.

After pulling the trigger of his pistol, Booth leaped from the suite to the stage, severely injuring his leg in the process. He shouted something, "Sic semper tyrannis," Latin for "Thus always to tyrants." It was part of Booth's flair for the dramatic; it was also a reference to what Brutus said at Caesar's assassination, and it was the motto of Virginia.

Booth had arranged for a getaway horse and an escape route was in his head. Booth was part of a plot that was to not only kill Lincoln, but also Vice President Johnson and Secretary of State Seward. The mission was to take out the president and the next two successors, in an effort to throw the government into panic and leave an opportunity for the Confederacy to take advantage.

In his 2005 analysis of Lincoln's assassination, Thomas Goodrich wrote, "All the elements in Booth's nature came together at once – his hatred of tyranny, his love of liberty, his passion for the stage, his sense of drama, and his lifelong quest to become immortal."

That pretty much sums it up well.

John Wilkes Booth (1838-1865)

Booth died 12 days after shooting Lincoln, after being shot inside a barn on the farm of the Garrett family in northern rural Virginia. He was ratted out by William S. Jett, a former private in the 9th Virginia Cavalry.

But Booth had an exit strategy; he just couldn't quite pull it off.

His dying words, allegedly, were, "Tell my mother I died for my country."

Booth blamed Lincoln for the country's troubles, and believed himself to be the man deemed to punish the president.

Unlike the assassins of our other fallen presidents, John Wilkes Booth never intended to be caught. He fully expected to escape and live the rest of his life basking in the glow of his misdeed.

Even Oswald, it could be argued, believed himself to be doomed following the murder of Kennedy. In fact, I would suggest that Oswald didn't even think he'd be successful. I believe his panicked moves after the killing suggests those of someone who was scared to death that he actually killed the president, and didn't know what the hell to do or where to go.

Not Booth; he didn't want to be a martyr, he wanted to be a Confederate hero, and live to enjoy that status.

Booth's sister Asia had been given a letter by her brother in January 1865, some four months before the assassination. Booth instructed her not to read it until after his death.

It read:

"I know how foolish I shall be deemed for undertaking such a step as this, where, on one side, I have many friends and everything to make me happy ... to give up all ... seems insane; but God is my judge. I love justice more than I do a country that disowns it, more than fame or wealth."

Such is the mind of the determined---and organized---assassin.

Take This Spot and Shove It

2011-04-07T17:21:00.002-04:00

Those advertisers sure know a captive audience when it sees one.

I'm talking about the newest way they're getting you to watch their ads---by boldly placing them in front of various videos you click to watch on the Internet.

And they're getting worse.

It used to be that the advertiser spots you'd be forced to view would last 10 seconds. No biggie; 10 seconds isn't too long to settle in and watch what you hope will be a compelling, funny, interesting, cute video.

Then the spots grew to 15 seconds in length. OK, what's 15 seconds, right? That doesn't seem too long.

Now they're a full 30 seconds in length, and they're showing up in more and more videos, annoyingly so.

Now we have a problem.

First, 30 seconds is a long time. It may not seem like it, but grab a watch with a second hand, close your eyes, and count out what YOU believe are 30 seconds. Almost guaranteed, the watch will tell you that you're shy.

Besides that, having to sit through a 30-second ad to watch a video that often times is barely that long itself, is the height of annoyance.

Not that the advertisers care about that, of course.

Consider it payback for all the times we zoom past their commercials on TV programs that we've recorded on our DVR.

Zoom past THIS, the advertisers are saying.

You see, once the "sponsor message" begins playing, you can't get past it. You are, for those 30 seconds, about as helpless and as captive as a fly in a spider's web.

I even had to watch the same ad a second time, because I had the nerve to click "replay" of the video I had just viewed. I wanted to yell, "I meant replay the VIDEO, not the commercial!!"

Sure, you can simply not pay attention to the ad. But the fact remains: they took 30 seconds away from you, regardless. Sometimes even 60.

I know what you're saying.

"Eno, this is just another case of whining when it won't do you any good."

True, but doesn't it feel good sometimes to rant, even if it's unlikely to bear fruit?

You think sitting through a 30-second commercial is bad? Don't look now, but there has been talk that the Internet itself may not be a free thing anymore---and I mean, beyond the cost you pay your provider every month.

Yes, I'm talking about pay-per-view sites and other little fees to make money off content that has been, since Internet time immemorial, 100% free of charge.

But that's still a ways off. Right now, the annoyance is forcing us to watch 30-second ads before our selected videos.

Never has half-a-minute seemed interminable.

Hollywood Walk of Lame

2011-04-05T15:21:00.000-04:00

I wasn't around when it started, but I have a feeling that the Hollywood Walk of Fame's original intent was to be a big deal.

The HWOF was established in 1958 and to date includes over 2,400 stars that are laid on both sides of a 15-block stretch of Hollywood Boulevard and three blocks of Vine Street in Hollywood.

It attracts over 10 million visitors annually, according to Wikipedia. So by that definition, the HWOF is a big deal. But it's a big deal as a spectacle, not so much for its Hall of Fame chops.

It used to be that to get a star on the HWOF, you had to be among the industry's giants. But for years, pretty much any Tom, Dick or Harry in the entertainment biz is getting his or her due, in the form of those five-pointed terrazzo and brass stars.

The Hollywood Chamber of Commerce decides who should get a star, and they've been doing so at breakneck speed in recent years. As a result, whenever I hear of another person getting a star, the news is usually met by me with some eye rolling.

The first time I nearly gagged was when I heard Gary Collins was getting a star. I'm sure actor and pitchman Collins is a nice guy, but, seriously? A star on the HWOF?

The HWOF is in the news again, as actress Penelope Cruz was honored last week with her star.

Carol Burnett, one of the folks truly deserving of a star, is emblazoned into the sidewalk at 6439 Hollywood Boulevard

I'm only cranky about this because I think the HWOF started as a noble idea and at one time to be emblazoned into the sidewalk was a true honor. Now, I think it's just something to snicker at.

Actually, in addition to acknowledging entertainers, the HWOF was supposed to encourage redevelopment of Hollywood Boulevard. That's fine, but why not "encourage development" by honoring the best of the best?

The selection committee is causing so many stars to be molded that you wonder what their criteria is to bestow a star on someone.

Well, here it is, according to the Wiki:

Each year, an average of 200 nominations are submitted to the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce Walk of Fame Selection Committee. Anyone, including fans, can nominate anyone active in the field of entertainment, as long as the nominee or his or her management is in agreement with the nomination. (A letter of agreement from the nominated celebrity or representative must accompany the application.) Nominees must have a minimum of five years' experience in the category for which they are nominated and a history of "charitable contributions." Posthumous nominees must have been deceased at least five years.

At a meeting each June, the committee selects approximately 20 celebrities to receive stars on the Walk of Fame during the following year. One posthumous award is given each year as well. The nominations of those not selected are "rolled over" to the following year for reconsideration; those not selected two years in a row are dropped, and must be renominated to receive further consideration. Living recipients must agree to personally attend a presentation ceremony within five years of selection. A relative of deceased recipients must attend posthumous presentations. Presentation ceremonies are open to the public.
Whew! Got all that?

Hollywood can do whatever it wants, of course. It hardly needs my permission. But my advice to the committee would be this: discretion may be the better part of valor here.

Check that; it's probably too late to put this toothpaste back into the tube.

The Barefoot Diva

2011-03-29T12:33:00.004-04:00

I wonder how Ina Garten is going to explain this one when she arrives to gain entry past the Pearly Gates.

Garten, the syrupy-sweet, giggling "Barefoot Contessa" on the Food Network, has surpassed a line that you cross at your own risk.

When it comes to kids and animals, one must tread very lightly.

When it comes to kids dying of cancer, it's no time to trot out traditional acts of avoidance.

An "I'm really busy here, ask me later" doesn't get it this time.

Garten has been ducking the advances of six-year-old Enzo, who's suffering from Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, something which will almost certainly kill him, sooner rather than later.

Enzo, through the terrific Make-a-Wish Foundation, has not once but twice requested that he be able to cook a meal with Garten.

Seems that Enzo became infatuated with Garten and her show while he watched TV with his mother, who tuned into "Barefoot Contessa" regularly.

I'll let TMZ.com pick up the story from here.

M.A.W. approached Garten with the wish last year ... but at the time, she was unable to meet with Enzo due to a book tour. The organization urged Enzo to pick another wish, but he told them he wanted to wait until she becomes available.

We're told the organization went back to Ina this year ... but her team responded with a "definite no" ... once again, citing scheduling conflicts.

Not just a "no," but a "definite no."

Sheesh.

Garten's people keep citing scheduling conflicts, and they say that she "can't honor every request."

Umm, how many requests is she getting from six-year-olds with a terminal disease?

After reading Enzo's story, I couldn't help but think of New York Jets QB Mark Sanchez, who was so touched by a young fan's adoration of him---that kid has cancer, too---that, without being nagged, Sanchez all but adopted the boy. Sanchez flew him to a Jets practice, had him meet all the players, get autographs, and let the kid sit at Sanchez's locker, just taking it all in.

The smile on the boy's face went from Maine to California.

Not only that, Sanchez routinely called the boy, sometimes right after games, wondering what the youngster thought of the game. Sanchez would call at other times, too, just to chat.

Sadly, the boy who adored Sanchez passed away earlier this year.

Sanchez, it was reported, took the death pretty hard.

So Garten's boorish behavior does have its inverse, thankfully.

I can appreciate the need for a celebrity to prioritize requests, though I'm not sure Garten is getting all that many, but there you go.

But at what point do you put someone at the front of the line? Doesn't that ever occur to the "people" who are charged with the task of managing their boss's agenda?

And why didn't Garten herself overrule her minions and say, "Whoa---we need to address Enzo's request?"

The cruel irony is that Garten's people keep citing not enough time as their reasoning for rebuffing Enzo's advances, yet if anyone is running short on time, it's the six-year-old with cancer!

According to TMZ, a member of Enzo's family says the 6-year-old is heartbroken ... and asked parents, "Why doesn't (Garten) want to meet me?"

The horrible Garten (left) and six-year-old cancer patient Enzo

The MAW Foundation says that Enzo has finally changed his request to swimming with dolphins, which the Foundation is working on as we speak.

I don't know if Garten and her staff figured that this shameful denial of Enzo's innocent request would never see the light of day. Nothing doesn't see the light of day anymore, it seems, which is good and bad.

In this case, it's very good.

It's good that this came to light, because the more people who realize that Ina Garten is a fraud, the better.

According to one of Garten's reps, "Despite her demanding schedule, [Ina] participates and helps as many organizations as she can throughout the year, helping children and adults like Enzo with life threatening and compromising illnesses. "

Actions speak louder than words, lady.

Thankfully, there are athletes/celebrities like Mark Sanchez, and like actor Johnny Depp, who is famous for his eagerness to engage fans and surprise them with acts of kindness.

Then, of course, there are those like Ina Garten, who has smiled, winked and giggled her way to a fortune making hoity-toity French food on The Food Network.

Now we know that behind that smile and hidden behind those irritating giggles is a person whose heart is as cold as dry ice.

Oh, to be a fly on the wall when Ms. Garten is called out on this one by the man upstairs.

********************************************************************
UPDATE (3/31/11): Garten changed her mind and reconsidered, but Enzo's family turned her down!

Read about it here.

Liz

2011-03-24T15:44:00.004-04:00

It never mattered how much time passed since Elizabeth Taylor made a film that resonated, and it wasn't since 1966, really. It didn't matter that her work over the past 30 years mostly filled the small screen and was more perfunctory than rich.

Taylor, who passed away Wednesday at age 79 from congestive heart failure, was in that rarified air of movie stars who were living icons, no matter how little they worked.

Marlon Brando. Warren Beatty. Paul Newman. Robert Redford. Heck, Doris Day.

These actors could go years between films and it didn't matter. Their legacies were secured.

Taylor was among them. She hadn't done anything compelling on celluloid since she knocked it out of the park in "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" in 1966, for which she won her second of two Oscars.

But it didn't matter, because Taylor had been in our consciousness since she was an adolescent star, and her many marriages often provided more drama and intrigue than any role she ever read for.

In "Woolf," for example, it was almost impossible to watch her share mesmerizing screen time with real-life husband Richard Burton and not imagine how close that story was to her actual marriage.

Taylor was an activist, particularly with her work involving AIDS. She was one of the first stars to be vocal about the disease, before it became hip and before folks started wearing those trendy ribbons.

Then, of course, there was her oddly fascinating relationship with Michael Jackson, which at times defied description---just like Jackson himself.

Taylor had been trying to die on us for decades. Stories of her close calls and medical drama have been going on since she made "Cleopatra" in 1963. Yet she almost made it to age 80.

The marriages, though, remain the biggest and most talked about part of her legacy. In a way, that's sad, but none of it was made up.

She had eight of them, including two with Burton. Tragedy ended her promising joint venture with producer Mike Todd, who was killed in an airplane crash in 1958.

Taylor's acting career was front-loaded; all the good stuff happened 40 years ago and longer. But when it was good, it was some of the best ever.

"Giant."

"Cat on a Hot Tin Roof."

"Suddenly Last Summer."

"BUtterfield 8."

"Cleopatra."

And, of course, "Woolf," in which Taylor played Martha, half of a bitter aging couple, who uses alcohol, along with a young couple, to fuel anguish and emotional pain towards each other.

1932-2011

Taylor was only 34 when she made "Woolf," which is amazing, because she seemed so much older, as the script called for. And it wasn't just makeup that made her appear that way. It was, simply, her acting.

To give further indication of Taylor's acting skills and range, those considered for the part of Martha included Bette Davis, Ingrid Bergman, Rosalind Russell and Patricia Neal, all considerably older than Liz.

Taylor's name really was Elizabeth Taylor. She was born in London, her mother an actress.

There was an elegance about Elizabeth Taylor. She was about as close to royalty as you'll get in a country that has no monarch.

She hadn't done anything all that special in front of a camera in about 45 years, but that didn't matter. But she did the AIDS thing and she lent her name and likeness to perfume. She was a giving, philanthropic person. She cared about people.

Taylor had her time and the fact that its impression left such a lasting mark is testament enough to her place in American culture, isn't it?

Ohio's Gloating Fool

2011-03-22T09:04:00.004-04:00

What happened to being a gracious winner? What of the civil courtesy between states, when it comes to our elected officials?

John Kasich must have been that kid who whooped and hollered whenever he won anything, from Chutes and Ladders to a game of H-O-R-S-E on the driveway.

Kasich, a Republican, is the governor of Ohio, but he also has been a political commentator on Fox News, hosting a show on the network for some six years (2001-07).

He's a neighbor of ours in Michigan, but he's the kind that you hope to avoid, going from your car to your house. If he's mowing his lawn, you wait until he's done before you mow yours.

Kasich has taken the low road when it comes to landing goodies for his state, specifically when it comes to being the lucky recipient of Michigan's apparent move away from its film tax incentives, thanks to new Governor Rick Snyder's seige on them.

Kasich's state snapped up "The Avengers," which was initially scheduled to be filmed in Michigan. But because of the pending change to Michigan's incentives, i.e. it won't be nearly as attractive for movie producers to do work in the state, the makers of "The Avengers" decided to knock on Ohio's door.

Sure, you can film here, Kasich said.

That's all well and good. I can hardly blame Ohio for gobbling up Michigan's mistake.

What I don't care for is Kasich's gloating about it.

"We won another one from Michigan," Kasich crowed recently.

First, I don't know what "another one" means, unless he's talking about the now one-sided U-M/OSU football rivalry.

The gloating Ohio Gov. John Kasich

Kasich wasn't done being a poor winner.

"Michigan dropped the ball," he added.

Geez, John---you forgot to add, "Naa naa ne naa nyah"!

It's unseemly for a governor to publicly rub salt into the wounds of another state, especially a neighboring one. Kasich could have been very happy for Ohio without making Michigan's film enthusiasts---and job-seekers feel worse than they already do.

Kasich could have spoken about being grateful for the opportunity that presented itself. He didn't have to call attention to why that opportunity became available in the first place. And he certainly didn't have to do it in the manner that he did.

If I'm Snyder, I'm putting Kasich's gloating remarks in a special place in my brain, for future reference.

Time was that there was some decorum, especially among elected officials. You took the high road and even avoided mentioning others by name, if you could help it.

Kasich went out of his way to urinate on Michigan, like a juvenile.

That's OK, John. We'll remember that.

TV News Gets Its "Props"

2011-03-15T11:41:00.004-04:00

No one shuffles papers anymore on TV.

I'm talking about the news people, who are moving further and further away from a paper-enslaved society. They've stopped killing trees---which is one less story for them to report, if you like irony.

In the days of Huntley and Brinkley and Cronkite---heck, even Chevy Chase---an iconic image was to see the newsmen read off their typewritten scripts (no TelePrompTers back then), turn the page when done, and then came the shuffling.

It happened at the end of the broadcast---Cronkite would say, "And that's the way it is..." and the camera would pull back and we'd see old Walter shuffling his pages of script on his desk.

I miss that. Call me silly, I don't care.

I bring this up because the paper shuffling has now been replaced by a new icon of TV news.

The laptop has replaced the news script.

The laptop has invaded the newsroom desks of the TV studios throughout America.

Apparently the "hip" thing now, if you're a news anchor, is to keep an open laptop on the desk before you. It seems to be mainly a prop, because I've never seen an anchor actually refer to the laptop.

Cronkite and the new dinosaur of TV news: the typewritten script on paper

Probably some producer of some TV news show decided that an open laptop would give the anchor credibility. Lord knows why. Have you seen the people who use laptops nowadays? I wouldn't trust them to mow my lawn.

How much do you want to bet that the laptops aren't even powered up?

This is hardly the end of civilization as we know it; I'm not angry about it. Actually, I think it's kind of amusing.

I'm not such a curmudgeon that I believe typewritten, paper news scripts should be sacred items.

But with open laptops sitting on the desks of all the TV news studios nowadays, it makes me wonder what the next hip thing will be.

Maybe the younger anchors of the near future will text the news and the words will appear on our TV screens.

Don't laugh.

You Knew Him, Too

2011-03-08T10:58:00.003-05:00

Raise your hand if you'd heard of Fennville, Michigan prior to last weekend.

That's what I thought.

We didn't know Wes Leonard, certainly, but we didn't even hear about his hometown, either.

Now Fennville is stamped onto our brains, and Wes Leonard is in our hearts.

We didn't know Wes Leonard personally, but we know who he is.

He's that great kid you'd like your daughter to marry. He's the athlete who turns the fans on and pleases his coaches. He's that good-looking boy who is morphing into a man and doing so with little drama or maintenance.

You know him. I know him. Perhaps you're even lucky enough to know him personally, or, bonus, be his dad or uncle or brother or friend.

You didn't have to know Wes Leonard personally to know who he was, or how tragic his story is.

Leonard is the 16-year old boy who collapsed and died moments after hitting the game-winning layup for Fennville High School, giving his team a perfect 20-0 record.

Fennville is the Michigan town along Lake Michigan where everyone knows everyone. You know that place, too.

Wes Leonard being hoisted by his teammates, moments before tragedy struck Friday night

Leonard died from an enlarged heart, which I always found horribly ironic, if you think about it.

It's among the scariest of conditions, because it's the heart and it is usually undetected until it strikes fatally. It waylays you and there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it.

There's really not more to add to this awful story that you haven't already read, but it strikes me, whenever something like this happens, how it doesn't matter that it's happening to a stranger.

That's because when something of this magnitude happens to someone so young, we relate it to our own situation, our own loved ones and friends.

Wes Leonard is merely a name. You can substitute, in his place, any number of young men or women in your life, past or present. Besides, we were all 16 years old once, so there's that common thread, too.

Wes Leonard's enlarged heart didn't give any medical folks or Wes himself a fair chance. By all accounts, Wes was afforded prompt attention and yes, there was a defibrillator in the house and it was used.

He was gone, for all intents and purposes, from the moment his body hit the basketball floor. A floor on which, minutes earlier, he had triumphed.

Sure, it's messed up. And you didn't have to know Wes Leonard personally to understand that.

That's because we really do know Wes Leonard. Just look around you.

Leo "Bombs" at Oscars

2011-03-01T13:46:00.003-05:00

How stupid does Melissa Leo think we are?

Here's a trained professional actress, used to working in front of audiences, and she'd have us believe that, a) she didn't know that the Academy Awards was an inappropriate venue to use the F-word; or b) she simply couldn't control her mouth enough to let that word spew forward on worldwide television?

Leo is the actress whose performance in "The Fighter" earned her the Best Supporting Actress Oscar. During her acceptance speech Sunday night, she said, ""Yeah I am kind of speechless. When I watched Kate [Winslet] two years ago, it looked so [expletive] easy!"

The epithet was followed by Leo's wide eyes, her hand over her mouth, and she did her best to look genuinely mortified that she had just said that.

Please.

For years, Oscar has been used as a platform for everything from political causes to industry bashing. Why, even a streaker once infamously graced the stage, in 1974.

"I wonder if that man realizes that he's revealing all his shortcomings," David Niven so coolly said after the naked man ran across the stage.

There was Marlon Brando sending what was purported to be a Native American woman to formally decline his Oscar for "The Godfather," protesting Hollywood's treatment of said folk in movies.

There was George C. Scott, who didn't bother to show up, choosing instead to watch a hockey game at home, in protest despite winning Best Actor for "Patton." He sent the award back, claiming he didn't want to be in competition with his fellow actors.

And now here's Leo, who dropped the first F-bomb in Oscars history.

For some reason, I just can't buy that Leo didn't know exactly what she was doing when she let it fly. I don't really know what her motive was, other than to perhaps gain what she has right now---15 minutes of infame.

Maybe she just wanted the thrill of saying F*** on live TV. Who knows.

But she certainly should have known better. I can't imagine being on such a stage, in front of millions of people watching on TV, and not being cognizant enough to censor myself.

She did it for shock value, let's face it.

Leo told CNN backstage that she "really didn't mean to offend anyone" with her slip of the tongue and apologized to anyone who might have been.

That doesn't exactly sound like someone who is sincere in their remorse.

What about, "I can't believe I said that!! Oh my goodness!! I'm so sorry!"?

Instead, Leo's other comments afterward suggested that she knew what she was saying, but she didn't feel like that word was all that bad, especially nowadays.

Leo: "Oops!" (yeah, right)

Naturally, Leo's "slip" was all the talk in the afterglow of the production. It just about overshadowed the other 99% of the show.

I'm sure she was real sad over that.

Now, to be fair, I believe that Leo was genuinely surprised and shocked when her name was called. You can just tell the disbelief on someone's face, when a nominee who didn't think they'd win, wins.

So I think Melissa Leo found herself on stage when she least expected it. But you can't tell me that she didn't know better than to use such language during her time of triumph.

No f***ing way.

Heeeeree's NOT Johnny!

2011-02-24T16:25:00.003-05:00

Johnny Carson is dead.

No news here, I know, but I mean more than just Carson dead in a physical sense, which occurred just over six years ago.

I mean, Johnny is dead in the same way as pay phones, drive-in theaters, and chivalry.

Specifically, Johnny Carson is dead in a "Who's good at hosting the Oscars?" sort of way.

Carson did it brilliantly---emceeing the Academy Awards five times (1979-82, 1984), providing the perfect blend of wit, sarcasm, irony and class as he shepherded the sometimes seemingly interminable production through the evening.

Not that others didn't host the show with aplomb---Billy Crystal comes to mind---but this blog post serves to lament that there just isn't another Carson out there today who can do what Johnny did during the Oscars telecast, which takes place again this Sunday night.

David Letterman gave it the old college try on more than one occasion, but he had the smarm factor that Johnny wouldn't, couldn't bring to the podium.

Johnny Carson, for example, would never had tried the whole "Uma, Oprah" thing.

Yes, it's another occasion where I'm living in the past, being curmudgeonly and cranky about today's entertainment landscape.

This year, Oscar will try co-hosts: James Franco and Anne Hathaway, who looks like she could have posed for the svelte trophy and who looks like she weighs about as much as Oscar does, too.

But tell me: who is Carson-like right now, in the entertainment biz?

Carson, during one of his five turns hosting the Oscars

Who is self-effacing, disarming, funny, and mystical, as Johnny was?

Regis Philbin, who's retiring from his morning talk show he co-hosts with Kelly Ripa?

Anyone else?

Regis might do a good job if ever given the Oscar reins, which is something I'd like to see, actually.

Steve Martin wasn't a bad host, but he was an insider.

Johnny Carson wasn't replaced by Jay Leno, and he really wasn't replaced as Oscars host, despite Crystal's funny takes.

The other alluring thing about Carson as Oscars host was that you hardly ever saw Johnny outside of his "Tonight Show" milieu. He didn't exactly make the rounds when he wasn't doing "Tonight" in Burbank.

So whenever he was on television outside the comforts of his studio---and wearing a tuxedo, no less---you knew something special was happening.

It was most certainly something special when Carson hosted the Oscars.

So here's to Franco and Hathaway. Godspeed, you two.

The British Are Coming!! (Again)

2011-02-22T15:06:00.003-05:00

What's the fascination in TV advertising with those who sport a British or Australian accent?

This isn't an anti-UK post, bloke, but I must protest.

Seems there must have been some market research done, that says us Yankees are more inclined to yank out our credit card or rush to the nearest big box store if we hear said items being hawked by those who hail from across the pond or Down Under.

How else to explain the influx of voices I am hearing lately on the telly?

Before, the tack du jour was to yell. That's all. Just simply shout EVERYTHING YOU WANTED TO SAY IN HOPES THAT VOLUME WOULD TRUMP COMMON SENSE.

The late Billy Mays yelled at us, as he sold us on those great TV offers. He was hardly the first TV pitchman to literally "give a shout out."

Now it's not so much shouting as it is the apparent allure of the British or Australian accent.

You may not be aware of what I'm talking about, but give the TV commercials these days a listen.

There's the GEICO gecko, for example. The dude selling us the Magic Bullet food chopper. And many others.

We've always been battling those British Invasions. They haven't really stopped for all that long since the music version of the 1960s.

Did you see who's replaced the venerable Larry King on CNN, following Larry's retirement?

It's none other than Piers Morgan, another British import.

I think we as Americans are still fascinated and charmed by the British dialect and demeanor.

Two words: Cary and Grant.

Was there anyone on the silver screen more suave and charming and debonair than the famed actor Grant?

But back to the advertising on TV.

Piers Morgan: The latest British invader, and Larry King's successor

I can see the impact someone like Cary Grant would have on our psyche, but I confess to not being moved by a British accent when I'm being sold goods.

I remember when the comedic actor John Cleese (Monty Python) did radio and TV voice-overs for Callard and Bowser, a British candy company. They were fun to listen to, but because it was John Cleese and John Cleese is freaking hilarious.

It wasn't because Cleese is British.

Again, I'm not angry or crying foul here. It's just something I've noticed.

The advertising execs apparently have been told by someone that they have a better chance of selling goods and services if the person doing the voice-over spells labor "labour."

Then again, it's better than all that yelling.

Promo Seltzer

2011-02-15T13:09:00.003-05:00

Tell me, what would be your annoyance factor if, while trying to watch television in your living room, someone occasionally steps in front of the screen, making hand gestures and other things to call attention to themselves?

Pretty flipping annoying, right?

Then why do some television networks insist on pumping their programs in the CGI version of what I just described?

You've been there---watching whatever on wherever, and you get momentarily startled by a moving image that is doing something in the lower right corner of the screen.

Your eyes can't help but go over there, and it's a graphic or an image of a person (or people) dancing or moving or waving their arms, calling attention to their show, which is sometimes several days away.

Some networks, in addition to the moving images, simply leave the programming information for what they're promoting on the screen for the entire duration of what you're currently watching. Though that's easier to ignore because it's just text. But still.

Again, it's often not even the show that's coming up next---it's a few days out yet.

So why would network bosses insist on distracting their viewers from what they're currently watching? It isn't enough that there are minutes upon minutes of time to accomplish this during, you know, commercial breaks?

Ahh, I know---much of America runs away from the TV during the interminable breaks. You have, after all, sometimes up to five minutes to get stuff done before your show decides to grace you with its reappearance.

Especially in this day and age of DVRs that fast forward and rewind, it's easy to zoom past commercials on programs you've pre-recorded.

So those slime ball network execs figured out a way to get their precious promos in, in a way that is fast forward-proof: emblazoning them on the screen during programming.

The family and I were trying to watch something on WEtv the other night. I say "trying" because that's exactly what we were doing---thanks to repeated moving images of Joan and Melissa Rivers popping up in the lower right corner.

The two of them were literally trying to distract us. Their arms were flailing. They shoved and pushed each other.

LOOK AT US! LOOK AT US!!

We know you're trying to watch your movie, but LOOK AT US!!

This would occur once every five minutes or so, if I had to guess.

It's reprehensible, really.

Joan and Melissa Rivers, inanimate---unlike they were on my TV screen the other night, ad nauseam

Like other things on television that start small and harmless, this has grown into a pandemic.

It amazes me that even things that are bad ideas end up being aped by other networks.

Doesn't anyone do market research anymore? Is the focus group dead?

And what's worse, these images started small from a size standpoint and now the TV folks are getting bolder and making them larger and larger.

It's off-the-charts annoying.

The TV advertising people used to hawk products with the alluring line of being able to try said products "in the privacy of your own home!"

Now, in grotesque irony, that privacy is now being invaded by the very same people who were touting it back in the day.

It's getting so you can't watch TV without being bombarded by not-so-subliminal promos for shows that are days away.

How long before the actual programs are on the lower right hand of the screen and the promos take center stage?

Don't answer that---I don't want to know.

Craigsdissed

2011-02-10T17:27:00.002-05:00

I don't know whether Christopher Lee should have resigned for cheating or for being stupid.

Either way, he's what he should be today: an ex-Congressman.

Lee, the Republican from New York, is the doofus who answered an ad on Craigslist---using his real name and personal e-mail address---under the category "Women for Men" and sent a photo of himself, shirtless, to a woman, declaring himself divorced and 39 years old.

Lee is married and 46, with kids.

Well, he has kids. The married part is rather tenuous right now.

Lee, observers say, had himself a bright future. He was young, up-and-coming within the party, and had landed a seat on the powerful, tax-writing Ways and Means Committee.

And there's that wife and kids thing---which is in of itself a blessing.

Now it might all be gone, because of Lee's cheating and/or stupidity.

It's a chicken-or-the-egg thing.

Is Lee more guilty of cheating, or of being a moron?

In other words, is he any more in the right if he had chosen to be more anonymous?

The reflex answer is to say no---Lee's indiscretion is the real crime here, not one of being less than smart about it.

It just goes to show, I suppose, the hubris some public figures have, which can certainly be confused for stupidity.

"I can do ANYTHING I want and it won't come back to haunt me!" he or she with the hubris seems to say.

Again Washington has a broken family and an embarrassed public official on its hands.

It didn't take Lee long to submit his resignation, by the way. In fact, he was a same day resigner, quitting the same day the website Gawker released the photos and let the cat out of the bag.

He issued his short statement---the one that we've heard before, that thanks the constituents and bids adieu as if nothing is truly wrong.

Like he just resigned because the mood had struck him.

Former Rep. Chris Lee, before and after he lost his mind

You'd like to say that a lesson has been learned here, but has it really?

You really think that the Christopher Lee cautionary tale will be the end of it?

It's not that we have cheating Congressmen. It's that we have cheating men, and always will.

It's like pasta.

Not all pasta is spaghetti, but all spaghetti is pasta.

Now just substitute "men" for pasta, and "cheaters" for spaghetti.

Oh, I know there are cheating women, too---but not nearly as many, and they're much smarter about it, to boot.

For now, the late night comedians have more fodder---they barely have to do any writing---and the Internet will be abuzz for a few days.

But no real lessons have been learned here. Just stay tuned and wait for the next tale to be revealed.

You might not even have to wait very long.

Chrysler's Longball

2011-02-08T14:46:00.003-05:00

I won't be running out to buy a Chrysler 200. I won't be moving into the city of Detroit.

But I'm proud as hell of the spot that Chrysler heaped on us during the third quarter of Super Bowl XLV.

About 160 million people watched the game on TV, by the way, so it wasn't like the 2:00 ad was played to a private audience of Detroit backers.

Some of those non-Detroiters are beside themselves. They just can't stand anything portraying Detroit in anything close to a positive light.

That's OK; I suspect that there were far more who were bedazzled with the spot than who are hating on it today.

I had the unusual experience of both watching the spot AND later strictly listening to it, minus the visual images.

I heard the audio played on the radio, and still it was riveting, even without the gritty, architectural images of Detroit.

That's because the script was dynamic---perfectly acknowledging Detroit's foibles along with pointing out that it's those very foibles that help us make great cars.

It also called out those who've written and said bad things about the city, many of whom have probably never even set foot within the city limits.

More than once I've heard people use the "goosebumps" word when it comes to describing the effect the ad had on them.

I can see that.

I happen to know the doorman featured in the ad---Chris Roddy, who mans the door at the Guardian Building downtown. Chris looked good!

So did the city, brought to the viewers by way of mainly architecture.

That's another thing that impressed me so much about the spot: the distinct lack of people in it was a strength, not a weakness.

The script spoke mainly about the human struggles the citizens have endured, and why those struggles make us more qualified than you might think to produce luxury cars.

Yet there were precious few people in the ad, and while that may seem to defeat the purpose, it didn't, because the combination of words, visuals, and music was so damn powerful.

And having Eminem step out of the car as a surprise was perfect. You couldn't have picked a better individual, because he cuts across several demographics.

Eminem's appearance at the end of the ad was a stroke of brilliance

I couldn't care less what others around the country think about the ad and about our city.

That's because most of them already have the ad absorbed into their subconscious, me thinks.

I'm clearly biased, but I think the Chrysler 200 ad we saw Sunday will go down as one of the most ballyhooed Super Bowl spots. Ever.

It was played during a football game, but I'm going to use a baseball analogy.

Chrysler and its ad agency hit a home run.

The Great Centurion

2011-02-03T15:38:00.004-05:00

Whatever one thinks of Ronald Reagan, I submit this without too much fear of contradiction.

He was a much better president than he was an actor.

That's about as far as I'll go, and as far as a lot of other people will go.

There are many others, as you know, who'll go much further than that.

The Gipper's 100th birthday is almost upon us. Reagan was born on February 6, 1911.

He was 69 when he was elected president in 1980, and almost 70 when he took the oath of office.

Reagan was among the eldest of presidents, on the cusp of turning 78 when he gave way to George Bush I.

I feel bad for the Reagan legacy, no matter what you think of it, because those who are enamored of him have unwittingly cheapened it by going overboard with their exultation.

The pro-Reagan zealots want everything to be named after him, and then some. They want him on currency. They want him added to Mt. Rushmore. And that's just the beginning.

All this does is make the fence-sitters and the anti-Reagan folks look at the Reagan Years with disdain, when that's not even fair.

Ronald Reagan, and I've said this before, was probably the right president at the right time for the country. I didn't always agree with him, but I had to admire his relationship with the American people.

Reagan had a "get tough" approach to the ne'er do-wells in the world, and it gave the United States a much-needed shot in the arm, coming on the heels of the emasculation caused by the Iranian hostage crisis.

I'm deadset against Reaganomics, but I can almost understand, at least a little, those who would support it.

Part of that is because of Reagan himself, who could tweak his opponents with a wink and not come off as mean-spirited or nasty.

Reagan, more than any president in recent history not named Richard Nixon, enjoyed the power of mandate when he buried Walter Mondale in the 1984 election. It was a landslide of monumental proportions, and by 1986 Reagan's mystique was at its strongest.

Today's Republicans have latched onto Reagan as the Democrats used to do with the Kennedy years of the early-1960s. Tit for tat---I'll give you that.

But I still think the Reagan fans have carried it too far, and have made their hero into more of a caricature than what he really was, which was one of the most effective, relevant presidents of the 20th century.

While you could make an argument that the Reagan fanaticism is more reflective on the fanatics than Reagan himself, it nonetheless tarnishes the man's legacy.

Ronald Reagan was the right president at the right time. And much of that was for what he accomplished, not merely his name and image. He was more substance than style---more than you might want to believe.

I just wish his admirers would tone it down, because all they're doing is making folks sneer at a legacy that should be embraced more warmly.

Snow Time Like a Blizzard

2011-02-01T14:13:00.003-05:00

Most snowstorms are like lumbering elephants. It's hard for one to catch you unawares.

There's really no such thing as a sudden, unexpected big heaping of snow. You don't get caught in a snow shower, like you can with rain. The skies don't open one afternoon and before you blink, there's two inches of fluff on the ground.

No, snowstorms announce their presence ahead of time, like a courteous guest alerting you that he's planning on stopping by in a couple of days. And he'll be knocking, whether you're home or not.

Which is a good thing, I suppose. The advanced warning signs give the Chicken Little weather people plenty of opportunities to run screaming down the streets and yelling into the radio microphones, telling us to take cover and to buy provisions---not necessarily in that order.

The impending, Great Snowstorm of 2011 is apparently on its way, having announced its intentions as early as Saturday night.

I'm not sure how it works. Maybe the chief meteorologist at the National Weather Center gets a text from the storm.

"C u Tuesday LOL"

Or something like that.

Regardless, someone is the first to know about it, and in this day and age of Internet and mobile phones with Internet access, it doesn't take much to spread the word. One tweet on Twitter usually does the trick.

The stores around town (I live in metro Detroit) have been swamped over the past couple of days with people smartly buying all sorts of stuff they feel they'll need in order to survive the blizzard. Snowstorms are good for the economy, too!

The kids, of course, are about to burst out of their skin. Snow days are glorious things to those from K-12. We all know the giddiness when your school's district's name appears on the crawl at the bottom of the TV screen in the morning.

But technology has made its mark there, too. We subscribe to a texting service through the WDIV-TV (channel 4) website, so as soon as the decision is made to close Warren Consolidated Schools, my phone gets pinged. Sometimes that ping comes at 10:00 the night before; sometimes, at 4:00 a.m.

The great New York City blizzard of 1888

If you have all that you need, you keep your power on, and have nowhere to go, a blizzard can be a nice, cozy thing. Even the chore of removing the snow isn't all bad, if you go slow and pace yourself.

It's nice that snowstorms traipse across the country with the speed of a turtle. And it's nice that they're courteous, to boot.

Give us plenty of time to get ready and/or worry, take bets on the number of inches that will fall, and fantasize about a day off from work and/or school.

Brace yourself. It's going to be a bumpy ride.

Or so we're told.

Sugar Over Vinegar

2011-01-27T16:44:00.004-05:00

It's a debate as to what is being judged more closely and harshly on the new season of "American Idol": the would-be idols, or the new judges.

First impressions after Week One and last night: the contestants are still a mixed bag of talent and bozos.

The new judges are a breath of fresh air.

If this sounds like an indictment against the sour-pussed Simon Cowell, so be it.

The new twosome, former Aerosmith front man Steven Tyler and singer/dancer/actress Jennifer Lopez, have shown the ability to render judgment without quarts of vinegar. It comes out in teaspoonfuls from Tyler and Lopez.

The third judge, Randy Jackson, seems to be at times trying to compensate for the loss of Cowell by going overboard with mean-spirited comments---even when they're obviously undeserved.

They fall flat coming out of Jackson's mouth.

But the trio of judges makes for a nice blend.

Tyler is funny, Lopez is adorable and has empathy, and Jackson is the returning vet who feels the need to remind his colleagues that not all of these singers can, you know, SING.

Speaking of which, what possesses some of these folks to show up, wait hours and hours, and then belt out sounds that defy description?

On national TV, no less.

Dreams are great. But doesn't reality ever sink in?

What's more, it's odd that the most unlistenable contestants are often the most defiant and angry ones, after they're shown the door.

"I can sing better than half the people here!" one woman shrieked after her audition went over like a lead balloon.

"Is it because I'm not SKINNY?!" she pressed on.

"This has nothing to do with looks," Jackson calmly explained. "It's about talent."

The not-skinny-one would have none of it; she stormed off, declaring that she didn't want to be on camera anymore. When a hand-held camera followed her out of the room, she glared at it.

Clearly, the producers of "Idol" choose to show us the bottom feeders for effect, but I wonder how many of them there really are. Surely there can't be THAT many delusional people, can there be?

Tyler and Lopez: a breath of fresh "Idol" air

But back to Tyler and Lopez.

I like how the newbies let the untalented contestants down gently. I like how they are truly captivated by the good voices. And I like how it seems to truly bother them when they have to squash someone's "Idol" dream.

Jackson is OK, but he's old news. Tyler and Lopez are all the rage.

Critics are already out on Tyler and Lopez, saying that they said "yes" to too many contestants.

Tough.

After years of Cowell's snide remarks, it's refreshing to see that people can be rejected without being humiliated.

After all, they often do that pretty well all by themselves.

Crazy Talk

2011-01-25T16:00:00.003-05:00

Jared Loughner is, without question, off his rocker. A total nut job. The elevator doesn't go all the way to the top floor---all that stuff.

But what he's not, is insane.

At least not in the "I had no idea what the HELL I was doing" kind of way.

Loughner, the alleged gunman---not that we have to really use "alleged," but there you go---in the shootings of U.S. Rep. Gabrielle Giffords (D-AZ) and several others, made his first appearance in court yesterday. And he's just plain nuts.

Loughner was seen smiling in court as charges were read against him. But not in the "I'm just a happy-go-lucky guy" way---in the "he knows something we don't" way.

Charlie Manson smiled a lot, you know. And you remember what atrocities he was responsible for.

Loughner is only 22, yet his mind is already filled with hate and paranoia and he's just too young to be so terribly jaded.

Unless he's bonkers---which he is.

But he's not insane.

What's the difference? Plenty.

The insanity defense is rarely successful, and that's as it should be. To be not guilty by reasons of insanity means that the perpetrator committed a violent crime with little capability to stop himself. Maybe he snapped. Maybe he was in some sort of trance-like state.

Loughner was no more insane at the time he started pulling the trigger and pumping people full of bullets as you are going to the store to buy eggs and milk.

Both acts---Loughner driving to the shopping center where Giffords was appearing, you going to the market---require pre-meditated thoughts, a degree of planning, and a mission that needs to be accomplished.

Loughner: Crazy but not insane

Loughner's was not the act of an insane person, in the judicial sense.

Deranged? Disturbed? Addled?

Absolutely. But not insane.

Loughner pleaded "not guilty" yesterday, and it makes me wonder if the old insanity plea is up his sleeve.

Let's hope not, for Loughner isn't insane.

He knew exactly what he wanted to do on that fateful Saturday. His aim was to murder Rep. Giffords, plain and simple. If that meant that others would have to die, like a nine-year-old girl, then so be it.

Collateral damage, you know.

"Not guilty by reason of insanity" is an antiquated defense whose success rate has fallen dramatically over the years as the courts have gotten smarter.

Jared Loughner is crazier than a box of hammers.

But he's not insane.

Not even close.

Outside the Bun, Inside the Tortilla

2011-01-20T11:59:00.000-05:00

You've got to hand it to Taco Bell. They keep pumping out new menu items using the same five ingredients.

They're thinking "outside the bun" all the time, they are.

First, this isn't an anti-Taco Bell rant. Quite the contrary; I find T-Bell to be the best "bang for your buck" among the fast food competitors. I like all the menu items whose costs are measured in cents, not dollars. I like that you can take as many sauce packets as you want, sans rationing.

And it truly is "fast"---much more so than the burger joints.

Taco Bell does more with five ingredients than some places do with twice that many.

The folks at T-Bell have been saddled with tortillas, beans, beef or chicken, tomatoes and onions for decades, yet they keep coming up with new menu items including just those ingredients, with few exceptions.

Everything is self-wrapped in its own casing, for the most part, except for the tacos, which are the roofless convertibles to the rest of the menu's sedans.

I'm not going to bother to list the plethora of items that the Head of Cooks has come up with over the years, but they are amazing in their diversity, considering they all contain the same stuff, for the most part.

Yet another Taco Bell menu item utilizing the usual suspects

But that's how Mexican food is, similar to Italian cuisine, which is mostly pasta, cheese, and sauce.

Did you laugh scornfully when I called Taco Bell, Mexican food?

Well, what ELSE would you call it?

I know the menu items at your local T-Bell aren't exactly what a Mexican mother from south of the border would serve her family, so I'll compromise and call it Mexican-American food. Or, more accurately, Meximerican.

Call it whatever you like, you can't deny that Taco Bell gets awfully creative with the same five things.

They have a new item now, one that imports Frito's corn chips into its makeup. But the rest of it is still a flour tortilla and the usual suspects inside.

McDonald's, Burger King and the rest are constantly falling all over themselves trying to put together an eclectic menu, one that dares to be different. They use lots of different ingredients---way more than Taco Bell.

But Taco Bell keeps its menu items on the cheap side, and they keep coming up with new takes on old ingredients.

It's like one of those word puzzles, where you have to come up with 25 different words using one with five letters.

Taco Bell prides itself on thinking "outside the bun." I keep waiting for the time when they'll have to think "outside the tortilla."

More than 40 years after arriving on the food scene, that time hasn't come yet. It may never.

Oh, Reeg!

2011-01-18T16:25:00.003-05:00

If you wanted to launch a nearly-50-year career in television, invading people's homes and gabbing their ears off, you could have done better than to be Joey Bishop's sidekick, of all things.

Yet that's the path that Regis Philbin took, and it worked.

Philbin was the quintessential second banana---kind of a poor man's Ed McMahon, if you can imagine such a thing---for four years in the mid-to-late 1960s, working under the shadow of talk show host and former Rat Packer Bishop, late nights on ABC.

For many, that might have been the end of the resume.

But Regis kept finding work, kept managing to horn his way into folks' living rooms.

Now, about 50 years after it started, Philbin's career is about to come to an end. He's leaving "Live with Regis and Kelly" at the end of the year, a year in which he'll turn 80 years old.

Whenever a celebrity can leave his or her medium on his or her own terms, that's a feather in the old cap. For every Carson or Letterman or Philbin who leaves/will leave voluntarily, there are hundreds of actors/hosts/emcees who get kicked to the curb in one way or another.

Like so many second bananas, Regis Philbin had no discernible talent. Still doesn't, really, except for one, and it's a big one: the ability to be likable.

Don't underestimate the power of this particular "talent."

Philbin doesn't act, doesn't really sing. Isn't all that good of an interviewer. But he's self-effacing and seems like a guy you'd like to hang around with---if for no other reason than he would appear to be someone who'd defer the spotlight to you, if that's what you wanted.

He's the second banana who stayed that way, even when he was hosting the game show, "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" on ABC in the late 1990s, early 2000s.

In that role, Regis played second banana to the contestants and to the game itself. He was even the sidekick to the dramatic lights and sound effects.

He was the host, but he wasn't the star. And that's kind of what his entire career has been like.

There's no question that Philbin, after over 20 years in television, finally found his milieu when he teamed with Kathie Lee Gifford for a daytime gabfest. The chemistry between he and Gifford, and then later with current co-host Kelly Ripa, was plain as the nose on your face.

Theirs were softball interviews, but that was OK, because "Live" didn't purport to be anything other than a relaxed conversation, either between co-hosts or between co-hosts and guest. The audience was overwhelmingly female, and older than most targeted demographics. There was a lot of homemaker to everything.

The very likable (if not talented) Regis Philbin

Philbin was along for the ride when "Millionaire" exploded onto the scene in 1999, giving rebirth to the game show genre, which had been moribund for years. He wasn't so much of a host as he was a maitre'd, directing you to your seat and letting the contestants, the lights, and the electronic music provide the bulk of the entertainment.

Regis, during "Millionaire," would essentially stop by your table every so often and ask you how things were going, but then he'd fade back into the shadows, as he was so used to doing.

"Millionaire" was a victim of its own success, and overexposure, but Regis was fine; he had a steady day job, after all.

Regis Philbin may go down as one of the best-liked TV personalities of all time.

Which is why he's been in our living rooms for half a century.

Sometimes the best talents are the ones you can't teach.

Cycle-logical Violence

2011-01-11T11:00:00.006-05:00

In the days leading up to President John Kennedy's fateful trip to Dallas in November, 1963, it would seem that, by today's standards, all the wrong things were done---if you wanted to keep a president alive, that is.

Maps of Kennedy's motorcade route through the city were published on the front page of the local newspapers. The "bubble top" of his limousine was removed, so people could more easily see him---and shoot him.

All this in a part of the country where he wasn't exactly a native son.

Can you imagine such egregious decisions being made today?

Of course not. Today, presidents can bug in and out of town in almost stealth-like fashion, compared to JFK's Texas trip in 1963. Often, news of the president's impending visit doesn't hit the papers until the day before or even the day of the visit. And those stories certainly wouldn't publish the president's planned route from stop to stop.

But it wasn't as if Kennedy's peril didn't have some precedent.

In 1950, Puerto Rican nationalists tried to kill President Truman while he was staying at Blair House, across the street from the White House. And in the 1930s, President Roosevelt was in grave danger in Miami, as his motorcade was shot at, leaving the mayor of Chicago dead.

Presidents McKinley (1901), Garfield (1881), and Lincoln (1865) had been assassinated, so it wasn't like Kennedy's safety should have been considered guaranteed, no matter the missteps.

Since the JFK murder, presidents don't ride in open-roofed cars in motorcades. And newspapers don't publish routes and other information helpful to a would-be assassin.

But you can't protect 100% against crazy.

Arizona Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords (D) is fighting for her life, having been shot in the head by 22-year-old, mentally disturbed Jared Loughner, who killed six and wounded 14. It was at a meet and greet at a Tucson shopping center where the carnage occurred.

In the hours after the shootings, lawmakers were speaking of putting an end to such public gatherings.

I can understand that knee jerk reaction, but it's misguided. How many such occurrences are there every day in this country---where an elected official appears in public to meet constituents?

Multiply that by 365 days in a year, and that's a LOT of appearances by a LOT of electeds.

I'm not downplaying Giffords's shooting---not at all. But let's keep it in context and perspective. The Secret Service can't protect every member of Congress at all times. And even if they could, a wacko like Loughner could still inflict damage.

Loughner seized an oppportunity that any determined nut job with a gun could have seized: a low-profile visit to a shopping center on a Saturday afternoon by the local Congresswoman---with low security and even lower perceived threat.

Loughner got to within three or four feet of Rep. Giffords, according to witnesses. Of course he did---everyone's guard was down.

Sadly, violence against politicians in this country has been on a fairly consistent cycle ever since Lincoln was killed in 1865. You had Garfield 16 years later, McKinley 20 years after that, the attempt on FDR about 30 years after that, the try on Truman 15 years or so after that, the murder of JFK 13 years later, and the killing of Bobby Kennedy less than five years after that.

Then it was Gov. George Wallace of Alabama, gunned down at a Maryland shopping center in 1972 as he ran for president, leaving him wheelchair-bound.

Arthur Bremer is subdued after shooting Alabama Gov. George Wallace at a presidential campaign stop at a Maryland shopping center, May 1972

Two years after Wallace, President Ford's life was in peril---twice within several weeks, both in California, and both by women.

John Hinckley tried to kill President Reagan less than seven years after the Ford attempts.

Now, not quite 30 years after Reagan, here comes Jared Loughner.

The cycle continues.

I'm sure that the Giffords shooting will have lawmakers on edge, at all levels---local, state and federal. That's totally understandable. But the reality is that 100% protection is impossible. All you can do is be on the lookout.

What should give the elected officials more pause is how a mentally ill guy like Jared Loughner came into possession of a firearm in the first place.

Take THAT! (but none of mine)

2011-01-06T12:12:00.001-05:00

Good for Elizabeth Edwards. Better for her children.

It was reported by CNN this morning that Edwards, who died on December 7, 2010 from complications due to cancer, left her estranged, philandering husband, former Senator and presidential candidate John Edwards, out of her will.

Completely out.

CNN said that Elizabeth Edwards, in a will dated December 1, wrote, "All of my furniture, furnishings, household goods, jewelry, china, silverware and personal effects and any automobiles ... to be divided among them ...," meaning her three remaining children---Catharine, Emma and John. Another son, Wade, died in a car crash in 1996.

The will names 28-year-old Catharine as the executor.

Elizabeth Edwards was diagnosed with breast cancer shortly after her husband's failed bid for the vice presidency in November 2004.

John Edwards eventually admitted to an affair with former campaign videographer Rielle Hunter, which took place, he said, in 2006 when his wife's cancer was in remission---as if that makes a difference.

John Edwards would also later admit to fathering a child with Hunter---an allegation he initially denied even after conceding the affair.

Edwards pulled out of the 2008 Democratic presidential candidate race when it was evident the choice was going to boil down to Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama. Edwards, had he stayed in the race and captured the nomination, would have done untold damage to the party once news of the affair leaked, which it certainly would have.

So, from the grave, Elizabeth gets the final, parting shot by leaving nothing to her straying hubby. If there's anything worse than having an extramarital affair, it's having it when a spouse is battling serious health problems.

Elizabeth Edwards, of course, came out of the whole mess with a much more positive image than John; she said the incident helped her focus on resuming her role as an advocate for the poor and for health care reform. She also said it pushed her to refocus on her role as a mother.

In other words, John's hurtful act only made Elizabeth Edwards a stronger woman.

That strength, it turns out, culminated in her final days as she constructed a most just will, her final "gotcha."

Not that she didn't have class beforehand.

Asked about John last September, she said, "I see the father of my children, and that's very important to me. Particularly since I have a terminal disease, this is the person who at some point will take over the primary parenting, and it's important to me that he heal, if he needs to."

He just won't be doing it with any of her stuff.

Good for her.

Fat Chance

2011-01-04T16:25:00.001-05:00

I started eating on Thanksgiving Day and I haven't stopped.

Correction: I did stop---to go to the bathroom, and to breathe---barely.

I remember having a routine physical seven or eight years ago, sometime in mid-November. My doctor said everything was fine, but that I could drop a few pounds.

Sure, who couldn't stand to lose some weight?

But notice the first sentence, two paragraphs above. The checkup took place in mid-November.

You think I'm losing weight from mid-November through the New Year?

Ha!

My wife won't agree with me, but I put partial blame on her. She's an Italian-Polish woman who can cook circles around you, which means that her dishes aren't exactly to be confused with anything Lean Cuisine would come out with.

So yeah, I blame her, a little. I mean, she cooks so GOOD.

So we started eating on Thanksgiving Day at our house, like the rest of the country. But we pressed on, long after the leftover hot turkey sandwiches and my traditional turkey soup had been consumed. It seems like we've been on a slippery slope into a vat of lard ever since.

Right after the turkey was gone, here came the hectic holiday season, with its shopping and LOTS of ordering takeout.

Takeout was a main option because my wife was either too darn tired to cook, or was inside a mall right around dinner time.

We did it all---subs, chicken, Taco Bell, burgers, Chinese, pizza, you name it. It got to the point that it was literally impossible to say, "You know, I could really go for _________, because we haven't had it in a while."

Then it was time for holiday baking---cookies and the like. And, don't you know, someone had to eat that stuff up, too.

Before you knew it, Christmas Eve was here, and that meant Honeybaked Ham. Christmas dinner was a beef tenderloin (cooked by my mother), and then it was right back to the leftover ham, and its sides: Italian mushrooms cooked in water and oil; green bean casserole; potato salad (my wife makes the best, hands down); yams; and rolls. Dessert was pecan pie and lemon meringue pie.

It was Thanksgiving, Part II.

The ham bone was used to make my wife's delicious Pasta Fagioli, a vat of which was made, and that I'm still eating, but I don't care because I love it.

Just when we got rid of the ham, it was time for New Year's Eve, and that meant a trip to Antonio's Italian Market at 17 Mile and Ryan for a slew of lunchmeats, cheeses, olives, and breads. Oh, and later that night---shrimp with cocktail sauce, and two spreads for crackers: crab and clam.

Pasta Fagioli, a.k.a Beans and Macaroni

Followed, naturally, by our traditional New Year's Day feast of homemade lasagna---with cheesecake for dessert.

The lasagna is just about gone. The Pasta Fagioli is still hanging around, stubbornly.

So it's a new year and I can finally stop eating---or at least come up for air.

And remind me never to schedule a physical in November again. It's just a waste of doc's time, and breath.

Cold Case, Warmed?

2010-12-28T14:58:00.003-05:00

Video games, computers, and text messaging aren't helping, but the days when kids stopped spending time outside started dwindling long before those tech gadgets hit the market.

In fact, you can trace some of it back to a 13-month period that began in February 1976 and ended in March 1977.

Before then, before those 13 months when the Oakland County Child Killer preyed, there was an innocence about kids riding their bikes and playing outside. It was no skin off mom's nose to let her adolescent boys and girls spend hours away from home, sans cell phone or any sort of adult supervision.

That's what I did as a kid---I spent untold hours cruising the neighborhoods on my bicycle, looking for open baseball diamonds, or trying to horn in on games already in progress, my mitt strung over my handle bar.

Or maybe it was off to Cunningham's Drugstore, in search of baseball cards and bubble gum.

Whatever the mission, it meant leaving the house on a summer's morning and not returning until dinner time. Mom didn't fear for my safety, and not because she didn't care about me or love me---but because she simply didn't really have to.

That all began to change in the winter of 1976, when kids started being plucked off the streets in Oakland County and turning up dead several days later.

I was about the same age as the victims of the Oakland County Child Killer, just a tad older. And those kids were doing the same thing I just described: riding their bikes, making a jaunt to the local store, etc.

In that 13-month period, four kids ages 11 to 13 were snatched and killed in southern Oakland County: Mark Stebbins, Jill Robinson, Kristine Mihelich and Timothy King. All were grabbed in different cities: Ferndale, Royal Oak, Berkley and Birmingham.

It was a scary time for parents and kids alike, but probably more for the moms and dads.

A task force was formed, and a car was identified as a possible vehicle driven by the perpetrator. Tons of leads were explored, but in the end, the case was never solved, no arrest ever made.

The case is arguably the most intriguing of any cold case in the state's history.

But King's dad, Barry, is convinced that he has solved the mystery, at least in his mind, if not via the legal system.

For several years, King has believed that a convicted pedophile named Christopher Busch was involved in the killing of Barry's son Timothy.

Timothy King: the fourth and final victim of the Oakland County Child Killer

Barry King is now "more convinced than ever" that Busch is the guilty party, especially in light of the recent court-ordered release of 3,400 pages of investigative records compiled by the the Michigan State Police.

If King is right, then good for him; at least in some way, he'll have some closure.

Busch committed suicide in 1978.

Timothy King would have turned 44 years old this year.

The other victims may have also been killed at the hands of Busch, whose victims were plucked in an order that matches, chronologically and geographically, that of the notorious Oakland County killings.

Regardless of whether the case ever gets solved in a legal sense, one thing is certain.

We lost a lot of innocence, beginning in February 1976, when youngsters were getting snatched off the streets of Oakland County, doing the same thing that kids all over the country were doing.

It was subtle, but it was definite: parents started keeping closer tabs on their kids' activities outside of the home.

And that was way before technology reeled the kids indoors.

Carded!

2010-12-21T10:48:00.004-05:00

How big do the retail and food service folks think my wallet is?

I don't mean in terms of space for cash to pay for their products---I mean in terms of space for the stacks of cards they keep giving me as a "reward" for being a return customer.

They're all over---on your key chain, in your wallet, jammed in a coat pocket---those cards that you must present to get scanned or kerchunked, to edge you closer to a free whatchya-ma-call- it.

Enough.

I have cards in my wallet, worn and with the printing almost rubbed off, some with holes punched in them, that now only serve as mementos of visits to Rio Wraps, etc. gone by.

I almost never remember for which businesses I have cards.

They always sound like a good idea at the time. First, they're free. Second, the arrangement has a nice little "you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours" aspect to it: keep buying our stuff, and eventually you'll get something for free.

Sounds good, right?

Trouble is, I never reach those businesses' threshold for the free stuff.

I'm tantalizingly close at Rio Wraps, and our local video joint. I'm maybe a hole punch or two away from a free burrito, and a free video rental. Maybe I'll achieve both on the same day, and enjoy a free burrito while watching my free movie.

It's a nice idea that these places have, but all these cards do is pile up in your wallet and make it bulge--and not with money.

I think my problem with these arrangements is that the threshold for the free item(s) is a little too steep.

Usually you need no fewer than 10 punches to achieve the free item, and that's simply too many visits for my liking---especially when I'm inevitably going to forget to present my card for punching on at least one occasion.

But at least those cards are flimsy and thin. Not so with the plastic, credit card-like ones that REALLY add paunch to your wallet.

Those don't get punched, of course---they get swiped. Or, they don't get anything, because even the clerks will tell you that you don't really need to present it, because all the info they need is on their computer.

For "convenience," they make mini versions that can be impaled onto your key chain. We have almost as many of those mini cards on our key chain as we have keys. It's like you're a custodian for the retail world.

I know the trick is to get you to come back to their establishment. Fine. But maybe we can go paperless and cardless? Maybe at the checkout we can take 30 seconds to input my info into the computer database, and going forward the cashier can simply ask for a phone number to determine whether I'm a preferred, returning sucker, er, customer?

One day, I'm going to make them all pay. One day, I'm going to get my free Slurpee at 7-Eleven, that free burrito at Rio Wraps, the free video rental, gobs of money off my purchase at CVS and Kroger and God knows where else, and do it all on the same day, and the economy won't know what to do.

Oh, by the way, for every ten visits to this blog, you're eligible for a free yogurt parfait.

Do you have one of my cards?