It's How You Play the Game

I guess it takes the Emmy's/the promise of a new TV season/and a little time off to dust off the blog and say "what up" to you, my old Is-It-Just-Me?-TV-ers.

Did you watch the Emmy's last night? I did, and if I was grading it by my elementary school report card standards, I would give it somewhere between a "Satisfactory" and "Needs Improvement" (though even the "Talks too much in class" note that I often received seems fitting here).

But, I like to be Pollyanna Positive when I can, so we'll start out with the good...working our way down to the bad, lest you worry no snark will appear here.

The (Pretty) Good  I must confess, I have never seen Glee.  Well, I mean, I've SEEN it, like clips and such, but no, sorry, I have not jumped on the sing-a-long bandwagon.  However, I thought Jane Lynch kept it all moving along and she had the right amount of wink-wink sarcasm for me.

"I'll have what she's having" award goes to Sofia Vergara.  I could not feel more genetically inferior. And of course they paired her with Rob Lowe, just to remind us all that we are mere mortals. No amount of Spanx/push ups/botox/80 hours on the Stairmaster could ever make us worthy of their company.

The Bad I love a good water cooler moment, really, I do.  So, whatever my feelings for Charlie Sheen's Insanity tour, I was thinking something really fun was going to happen - maybe a dream sequence for 2 and 1/2 Men that revealed all this crazy was imagined? Ashton Kutcher doing a mock Punk'd segment?  Nope, Charlie just came on out and apologized, the audience's nervous light applause underscoring that we were all waiting for the punchline.

Still waiting.

The Ugly I am a huge Modern Family fan, but dear God Julie Bowen, what was with that Ally McBeal look?  Get that gal a sandwich, with a side of extra carbs, stat!

Liar, Liar

*Spoilers galore!*

Last week, I was kind of pumped up after watching the Brothers and Sisters promo for their 2 hour movie. That show has followed a path of ok, awesome, who cares, and ok over the few seasons it's been on. But when their promo was touting a death? Well, in the world of dramas...deaths and weddings? We love 'em!!

But then I was feeling a little sad, cuz it looked like Rob Lowe's character, Senator McAllister, was a goner. I've loved that Rob Lowe ever since he was Sodapop Curtis! Why, oh why, would they kill him off? But when good 'ol Robbie survived the heart attack and all, I thought, OOOH, plot twist! Tommy is gonna get offed by Holly! That's gotta be it, I hope?! Those ads promised me a death, dammit!

Frankly, as the clock ticked on, I started to panic about who the grim reaper would send off to TV heaven...especially when Kitty put a loose blanket into that new baby's crib. Eek! Suffocation alert!

But here's the thing...no one bit the dust! That baby was as snuggly as a Snuggie one scene later, Tommy is just an embezzler, and the Senator is just ruthless, not dead.

What gives, ABC?

The show was actually one of the best I've seen in awhile. So why fake us out with the death promise? We would've been totally tuned in anyway if you'd just stuck with Cliffhanger 101 and kept it to the "Will he or won't he make it?" teases.

Cue the shot of the flat line. Duh.

And speaking of fake outs and ABC, by now you've all heard about the little switcheroo on the Bachelor Monday night. Maybe it's all legit: Jason's just a loser who dumped his fiance ON TELEVISION for the runner up. Not scripted by the producers at all.

Pull this leg and it plays Jingle Bells.

Finally, rounding out this week's trifecta of fakery, this poor dude Dane Patterson from The Biggest Loser...he lost like 100 pounds in 8 weeks, and now all anyone can talk about is the fact that even though he ran 23 of the 26.2 miles of a marathon, an overzealous producer in need of their all important finish line shot, like, NOW, drove him to the finish line.

Drove him. Like, get in the car and take a load off. Maybe we'll get a hoagie on the way.

Sigh.

Can we believe anything on TV anymore? Next thing you know, you'll tell me Trump's hair isn't naturally like that....

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Stay Gold

Video may have killed the radio star, but Facebook might be killing the TV stars. Where the hell have I been? Well...uh, facebooking, recessioning, all that good stuff.

Anyhoo, I'm back now and I have a confession to make: I watched the Oscars the other night WITHOUT the usual glee and fervor that consumes me. What is going ON? Is it because every movie is such a huge freaking bummmmmmer?!!!!

I mean, at least The Wrestler was great, but again not a huge pick me up. And yet, I didn't even get the joy of having my man Mickey make his big speech. Damn you Spicoli Sean Penn!

And The freaking Reader? Now there's a good time. Watched it with my parents and not sure who fell asleep first, me or my (over 70) dad.









Ain't no way I'm touching Revolutionary Road. I'm sure the performances are great, and I know it's not fair to trash talk a movie I have never seen, but I think I'll skip the whole "Death of Dreams" genre.

As for you, you perky Slumdog-bandwagonners, I squeezed this one in just under the wire before Oscar night, and like that damn Little Miss Sunshine and Juno before it, I am not drinking the Kool Aid. Oh calm down, I liked it, it was heartwarming, blah blah blah. But best movie ever?

Not so much.

Well, with the Oscars behind me, it's time to get serious about TV again. I've got a DVR back up of Lost, a Bachelor finale next week and that overly dramatic-do-they-or-don't-they-kill-off-Rob-Lowe? Brothers and Sisters two hour movie "event" to watch on Sunday.

Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in...

Reality Bites

I hate to kick people when they're down, but what the hell WAS that train wreck of an Emmy's the other night??!

You know, there was a time when I would like, have to add extra rounds of cardio to get my body ready for the marathon ritual of watching hours upon hours of red carpet leading up to the pièce de résistance, the Emmy's! But this year?

Not so much.

So maybe I was psychic when I DVR'd this horrible piece of dreck and went out instead of staying home to watch. And thank god when I got home I could speed through the horrible wanna-be banter to get to the good speeches.

Oh wait, there WERE no good speeches.

And I mean, I know EVERYBODY is talking about how bad the reality-hosts-talking-about-nothing bit was...but what about that Josh Groban singing-montage of tv theme songs??! I mean, the THIS-HAS-TO-BE-A-JOKE-SINGING-MONTAGE-BUT-WAIT-NO-IT'S-NOT-WAIT-IS-IT?-JOSH-GROBAN-TV-THEME-SONG-MONTAGE?


That might've been the most cringe-worthy awards moment I've seen since Rob Lowe danced with Snow White at the Oscars. And guess what? I've got that video, too, if you don't mind burning out your corneas by the time he comes on at 4:12 in this ONLY copy of that infamous video I could find...



On the bright side, at least my friends at Mad Men and 30 Rock got lots of awards. See, I'm smart enough to say nice things. I would hate for someone to be mad at me for slamming the Emmy's since it IS a small word, after all...

Age Before Beauty

For reasons that are way too frightening to admit that I won't bore you with, last night I found this John Waite video for "If Anybody Had a Heart".


This video highlights scenes from the 80's cult classic, About Last Night (ok, fine, maybe no cults are devoting anything to this film but still...). Is it just me, or does John Waite look and dress just a wee bit like Molly Ringwald in this video?

Anyhoo, I remember vividly when I saw About Last Night in 1986, MY FRESHMAN YEAR IN HIGH SCHOOL.

(Wow, that was painful to write.)

I had to leave before the end of the movie because it was past my curfew, and when I called dear old dad from a pay phone to say I might be late...he was PISSED! And so my date, whose name escapes me 22 years later, drove me home.

On his motorcycle.

I did not share this with dad.

But now, 22 years after that film, I just can't help but wonder what secret Dorian Gray-ish pact Demi and Rob made all those eons ago. In case you haven't noticed, NEITHER HAS AGED. Not one bit!!! It's spooky! Demi WAS born in Roswell, New Mexico. I'm just saying...

I'll have what they're having.

By the way, in 1986, Ashton Kutcher was eight years old.