NYE07

I've been waiting for years. It never happens. There's always a possibility, sometimes distinct, sometimes hazy. It's always a huge ordeal, and granted, we've gotten better at it over the years. The past couple have been alright, most likely because of the options age offers. But never, never once has it truly been grand.

What is it? New Year's Eve. Or, NYE. This is usually preceeded by a similiarly blank and void Big Wednesday attempt just over a month before. However, this year, BW was blazing. Lots of fun, lots of excitement, lots of people, lots of adult beverages... we couldn't go wrong. Dare we play by those rules, and expect tonight to be as g-funk as Big Wednesday was? I say YES!

And that's how I learned to love NYE.

Tomorrow, resolutions for aught-seven before I say goodbye to the Queen City.

Lackluster

Something to remember 2006 by.

Gift Card Breakthroughs

I was at the local mega-chain bookshop this afternoon looking for items on which to spend my gift card. I actually had a list written up a couple days ago, noting all those items I thought I was going to get for Christmas and then never got. And, I printed out the coupon which I received for being a member of the elite online e-mail club, of which everyone else is also welcome to join.

I stood around a while, meandering through the aisles, gaping wide-eyed at the prices and only being half-interested in most of the products, including the ones on my list. For some reason, once I got to the store, $29.95 just seemed too expensive for NEXT, the new book by Michael Crichton. And I just felt I wasn't ready to re-purchase Sondheim's SWEENEY TODD IN CONCERT that was stolen from me a while back. But, after hemming and hawing, I did pick up a copy of the new recording by London's Chocolate Factory of SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH GEORGE, and the off-Broadway tuner I LOVE YOU BECAUSE, both of which I am currently listening to and will review shortly.

What gave me pause was a book on the "web design" shelf about blogging. I think it was called "People Don't Care What You Had For Breakfast" or something like that, and it offered tips on what to blog about and how to make one's blog brilliant. HA! I don't need any knuckle-down buckle-down cheap yet overlypriced text to tell ME what to write about. I am Beedow, Blogger of Brilliance. Sheepishly, I admit I did peruse the pages and find a couple of ideas to get me through the new year.

Tomorrow's post: NYE: How to Make it Work for You

Dreamgirls will make you happy?

I haven't sat down to read what everyone else is saying, because I wanted to form my own thoughts and opinions (I know! How terribly liberal of me). I finally made it to see DREAMGIRLS this afternoon with my sister, but before we were able to see the movie, we had to sit through about twenty minutes of nothingness, as the staff at the movie palace realized there was a problem and then had to correct it. My guess is something went awry with the tape and it had to be rewound or something -- do they do that in this day and age?

Anyhow. Jennifer Hudson is a yawn. She's an amateur way up there on the silver screen with the stunning Beyonce and the silent killer, Anika Noni Rose. This is supposed to be about this group of girls who are talented and rocket to stardom, right? Well, no wonder mister Curtis Taylor Junior fired her -- not only was she late all the time, but she didn't have the moves, the look, the voice, the style, the panache, or the raw skills to make it. And I can't understand how these award voters are being blinded.

The reason DREAMGIRLS was a smash on Broadway was because of the venue. This is a stage musical. It was written that way and should have stayed that way. It's the reason these big blockbuster musicals aren't transfering to the big screen -- because they're not meant to. We desperately want to applaud when Effie stands up to Curtis (and at my showing, one young girl did vehemently, to the annoyance of everyone around here), but it's not appropriate in a move theatre because ... and this is the big thing I realized today folks ... we're not applauding something that may have taken a dozen tries from several angles over a couple days to get right, and then fix and style in the editing room over months. When we want to applaud, we want to applaud the performance of a lifetime. Watch Jennifer Holliday sing the song (1982 Tony's or later in her career). It's breathtaking. There's nothing like it. Because it's real, it's live, it's in the moment. There's no one else there except her to share this very real and true moment with us the audience. On screen, there are a dozen to a hundred people neatly packaging the whole thing and sending it to us. That's not what broadway musicals are about.

CHICAGO made the transfer and did it brilliantly. RENT didn't. THE PRODUCERS didn't. Even SINGIN' IN THE RAIN didn't make the transfer to the stage. It was written as a Hollywood musical and should stay that way.

Anika Noni Rose was the best one up there, because she is from Broadway. She knew exactly what to do, how to play the role, sing the songs, act the act, and do it right. She was just so sweet and in the pocket, but unfortunately she's in the smallest of the roles.

[here: Original Lorrell, GREY'S ANATOMY's Loretta Devine] What would have helped the situation would have been the use of the 2001 concert cast (Lillias White as Effie, Audra McDonald as Deena and Heather Headley as Lorrell -- although, I'm still hardpressed to replace Rose with Headley). That cast also included Norm Lewis (Broadway's current Javier), Shoshana Bean (WICKED's Elphaba), Adriane Lenox (of DOUBT fame and a standby on CAROLINE, OR CHANGE where she worked with Rose), Brian Stokes Mitchell, Malcolm Gets, Alice Ripley, Emily Skinner, Brad Oscar and Sara Ramierz. Although, still, I think they work best in the recording and on the stage rather than if they had been shipped off to Hollywood and stuck up on film.

And, the cinematography. CRAPOLA. It looked like some failing frosh film fudgebucket finangled his way behind the camera somehow. It's awkward and strange, a poor turn from the guy who was the director of photography on FREE WILLY 3. The choreography (Fatima Robinson) is flat and lousy, too. Thank goodness they were wise enough to bring in tried-and-true team of Jules Fisher and Peggy Eisenhower to do the lighting. At least they knew what they were doing.

It's too bad about all of that, but that's the way it is. Go see it though, the music's kick-ass. And then you'll know what's what when the mount a national tour in the next year or so [my gut tells me they've just got to!].

Beedow's Year in Review

Because it seems right. Because everyone else is doing it. Because I am under the weather (again) and not in the mood to go out. Because I just got a haircut and feel lighter than air. Because Beedow's brilliant. And so, in order of their original appearance here, ten of the most memorable posts from this year at EA(t) A(t) (j)OE'S.

Tide Spill
It was a terrible day.

I-75 Offers Only the Runs
The collared greens were neither collared nor green.

Pictures and Accomplishments
- spent interminable hours in a fart-smelling van with seven other wackos

One of my Worst posts
It was Albert Einstein who said...

Some Shakespearean Failure
O! Methinks my life a suicide should be.

Exasperation in Skokie
On the [side of the] Road Again

Poem
Who knew I could write like this?

Extraordinary Friends
bidding somewhat agressively on a salad bowl

Tony Play-by-Play
Sorry, girlfriend, stick to what you know.

Project 365 Third Try
I look forward to writing for you every day.

Boxing Day

On this day in 1982, TIME magazine named it's "Man of the Year" for the first time ever a non-human: the personal computer. This year was also a milestone of sorts, going to "you" and all of the user-based web initiatives out there... youtube, myspace, facebook and wikipedia.

What is also interesting, and not technological at all, is the correlation between this date and 2003, 2004 and 2006 (today). In all three years, major earthquakes have created devastation. I mean, Boxing Day shouldn't create such a terror for Mother Nature, right? Apparently, she has something against corrugated cardboard. Anyway, wikipedia says that in 2003, "a strong magnitude 6.6 earthquake devastates southeast Iranian city of Bam, killing tens of thousands and destroying the citadel of Arg-é Bam." In 2004, an earthquake measuring 9.3 on the Richter magnitude scale creates a tsunami causing devastation in Sri Lanka, India, Indonesia, Thailand, Malaysia, The Maldives and many other areas around the rim of the Indian Ocean, killing more than 200,000." And today, "a magnitude 7.1 earthquake near Taiwan generated a tsunami 3 feet high."

Coming this week: 2006 in review, 2007 in preview/resolution, and how I stopped worrying and came to love New Year's Eve.

"Yes."

"What a way to start a concert, saying yes..." From there, Ms Minnelli goes on for an hour or so, rememberizing about her pivotal turn as herself in the Kander-Ebb-Fosse created LIZA WITH A Z. I got the collector's edition DVD for Christmas. It's brilliant. She's a hoot.

"If I blinked hard, I would have flown away my eyelashes are so long."

"I wanna discuss something here... my bustline. Thank you Bob Fosse."

It's fantastic. And I'll watch it again soon. Happy Christmas.

A Visit from St Nicholson

What is the holiday season for other than gifting, right? Well, readers, today you get a treat. The text of one of my favorite Christmas twists from Bob Rivers, starring one of my favorite crazy men of all time (except for that flick FIVE EASY PIECES which was just strange). Click the snowflake for a Windows Media Player audio sample... Happy days to you and yours, I hope you get everything you asked for from Santa Claus. I'll be sure to let you know how I did tomorrow.


Twas’ the fright before Christmas
No one upset me
With a big bowl of popcorn, watching TV

I stretched, gave a yawn, settled back in my chair.
In hopes that St. Nicholson soon would be there.
The children were lying awake without sleep
They’d seen all his movies; He gives them the creeps.

I’d cued up “Cuckoo’s Nest” with my trusty remote
To the part where he had all the nuts in the boat?
When out in the yard, there arose such a noise
I turned off the TV to see what it was.
And what to my wandering eyes should approach
But the Los Angeles Lakers, and Pat Riley, their coach!
The limo was racing, the team at its heels
That’s when I saw him: the man at the wheel.
He ranted and cursed, and waved round his swizzel stick
And I knew in a second it must be Jack Nick.

More rapid than the Celtics these Lakers they came
He screamed like a mad man and called them by name:
“Now Magic, now Worthy, now Scott, and Kareem.
On Cooper, on Rambis, and the rest of the team.”

Down the chimney St. Nicholson came with a groan.
Then he brushed off the suit and said, “Honey, I’m home.”

He was wearing a trench coat. With beer it was stained.
And his shirt was clawed to shreds by Shirley Maclaine
He had a fat face and a flabby beer belly.
From too many trips to the bar and the deli.
He said, “Its tough when an actor becomes fat and lazy. I only get calls to play weirdo’s and crazies. And middle-aged has-been’s with washed up careers. But I’ll fix them all and play Santa this year!”

And with that, he buried his head in the sack and said, “Lets see what you get from your old buddy Jack. A hatchet for Daddy…”
He reared back his head.
“To scare all those little buggers upstairs in bed. And a stiff drink for mommy in a nice tall glass. She could really use something to kill that bug up her chimney.”

With a wink of his eye and a twist of his face, he threw all the stockings into the fireplace. What could I do?
What could I say?
What would I wear on my feet Christmas day?

I asked for a reason,
and turning his head,
he looked straight at me,
and here’s what he said:

“Why? You wanna know why? Do you REALLY wanna know why, pal? I’ll tell you why.

When you’re out Christmas shopping. You know, doing your little “Christmas” things. With all your little Christmas friends. Spreadin all that Christmas cheer, with those stupid Christmas songs? Did you ever stop and think of pickin up a little something for old Jack? Did you ever stop to think of what Jack might like for Christmas? You know, Jack. From the movies. UP on the big screen. Pourin his heart out, givin it everything he’s got, day in and day out, just tryin as hard as he can to bring a tiny little bit of sunshine into your miserable little humdrum lives? Did you ever think of good ole’ Jack? For a second? NO! Not once! Maybe old Jack just wasn’t that good. Maybe I wasn’t good enough in the Postman Always Rings Twice. Acting my guts out for you in that one. Cuckoo’s Nest, the Shining, Witches of frickin Eastwick, Prizzi’s frickin Honor. All for you, Pal. Just to brighten things up for you. Not good enough though, is it? No, you want me to brighten up the Christmas season too? Isn’t that what you want, Pal? Okay, lets make things real bright around here. What do you say we decorate the tree? String up these pretty lights here. Oh, she’s looking brighter already. What do you say we take this cute little angel and ram her on the top branch, huh? How about some gasoline for the whole thing? I mean, lets make her just as bright as she can be. What do you say we light her up and chuck her through the old picture window here? No point in having a tree as bright as all that without giving the neighbors a chance to see, don’t you think? There, aren’t you glad ole’ Jack stopped by?”

The flames towered brightly in the cold, wintry sky
As he made for his limo and bade his goodbye.
And an age may unfold air I fail to regret
That visit from St. Nicholson, which I’d sooner forget.
But I swear by the goose bumps upon my skin
That I’ll always remember that devilish grin.
And his voice, crying out as he faded from sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and I hope I never see you again for as long as I live, for crying out loud!”

Mall Madness

No, I'm not totally finished with my holiday shopping yet. Although, I have to say that this season, it's been a lot easier than years past. I don't know why. I guess I decided what I was going to get everyone in advance, and so I was able to just go out and pick up the items, rather than loping through the mall halls unsure of what to even look for let alone purchase.

But, trying to get to the gifts, I had to avoid those walkers (you know, the women in their toupe sneakers who circle the mall endlessly all afternoon) and do a little bit of meandering. Then, of course, you have to briskly pass the families and lovey-dovey couples who are at the mall "for fun." Be careful to just barely brush their coats with yours, or else if you actually bump into them, there could be trouble.

OK. But really... who actually goes to the mall for fun? I can't imagine. I go to get what I gotta get and get goin'.

Anyway, I'm done here. I've got things to do, can't spend all day writing in online text boxes for the enjoyment of others. Come on!

Balls

People often say the law is important. Written rules... rules of the road... the unwritten rules... bylaws... amendments... commandments... things like that. I say, it's the spirit of the law that counts more than the law itself. For example, the Catholic Church requires all members to tithe 10% of their earnings. I think it's not so important that if a person makes $125.00 a week (I know, an egregious sum) he turns over twelve fifty exactly. Maybe he wants to give only ten dollars one week. Or perhaps fifteen dollars the next week.

It is in this vein that I choose to extend my day. See, Project 365 is supposed to be for good, and what good can it be if a day is constrained to twenty-four hours? Further, I was asleep for the first eight of those today. So, now that I haven't gone to bed yet tonight, and it is only three o'clock in the morning, I feel that I could actually wait another five hours to write this post, to give me the full twenty-four hours of my day. Of course, I won't do that.

However, I ask the courtesy of your respect and consideration at this hour of the morning, and I will consider this post the next in my P365 and will not cheat you by changing the date/time stamp of my post. So there.

Overheard

There were these two big, burly men standing across the aisle from me. One of them was wearing one of those big brown, down jackets, and the other, a black leather coat. Both had flannel shirts on underneath their coats. If they weren't wearing steel-toed workboots, they were in my imagination.

Guy One: "I don't know. I mean, either one I get, I know the other one will have been the better choice."

I was standing in line, waiting to purchase an overpriced electronic gift for an undeserving giftee, when I saw this exhange. The men were blocking my view of the "Staff Selections" DVDs, so I assumed that's what was under discussion. It was logical, right? Two probable construction workers, macho man's men, deciding between STAR WARS flicks, right? It made perfect sense.

They turned to leave, offering me a perfect view of the source of the concern: seasons one and two of the brilliant episodic drama, LAGUNA BEACH.

Labels

WARNING! I wrote this post because I didn't want to get sucked in to the habit of writing life-altering pieces every night. See last nights piece on "origins" to alter your life. Do not expect your life to alter following the reading of tonight's piece.

As I wrote the title of this post, I thought people might get excited. "O! Another prying post into the heart and soul of species!" No, friends (and foes), I am not here to talk about generalizing, name-calling, or Newman's Own dressings. I'm here to question the purpose of blogger-beta's "labels."

I see the use on other sites. Search for keywords, find item quickly. Makes sense.

But here, blogger's already given us the fabulous "search this blog" featurette, which I adore and use to my heart's content. I have found in the past few weeks, that the use of labels just balloons an already busy reader with more useless text. The nice feature is that it's one-click searching, but it requires the author to reduce her complex and developed essay into a mere half dozen words or so? Uncalledfor!

I may or may not label my posts in the future. Do not be offended.

origins

Don't worry, I'm not going to get into some Darwinesquestyle meanderings on life, death, islands, turtles, lizards, super novas or coconuts. I'm just wondering about the word "skidaddle." Or, "skedaddle." I don't think there's any other possible spellings.

What does this word want? I was with Rice at a lousy puck-chasing, stick-bashing game of chance tonight in the Queen City and discussed many things, among them, this word. Well, it came up and we said a few things about it and then I said I'd write about it.

It suggests a sort of lightheartedness, an airy quality. Perhaps flippant, but I think more light-in-ones-loafers sort of style. But I think the word can be said by (or refer to) brutes and queens alike, so the loafers analogy might have to go.

Does it come from the ancient Swiss winter sport yodle? "Ski-daddle! I'm coming down the mountain now."

Is it derived from the ebonics for papa, "SKi-dADDle OU-tta heAh fo' you NACH'ral FAHdduh kutz yoo" I wonder?

Apparently, it made its debut during the Civil War: "No sooner did the traitors discover their approach than they skiddaddled."

John Hotten argued in his Dictionary of Modern Slang in 1874, that the word derived from the Greek skedannumi, to “retire tumultuously." But, another widely argued origin is that it's a Scottish or Northern English dialect word (sgedadol) meaning to spill or scatter, in particular to spill milk.

Also:

+ to have your way with: "I'm going to skidaddle that girl when she comes here on Saturday"

+ Somethin u say to sumone ya hate; to bounce (leave): "Eh Yo, SKIDADLE..now!" (note a different spelling, using only ONE "d")

+ run away, as if in a panic

+ To leave hastily: bolt, get out, run, clear out, get, hotfoot, hightail, scram, vamoose, beat it, hightail it, hotfoot it, make tracks

+ or this one which replaces the "d" with "t": A country-bumpkin term that means to leave, generally rather quickly: "We need to skidattle on outta her', or else them-ther farma' might cat' on!"

+ or this one, changing the word almost entirely: "oh s%@!, here comes da police, lets skiddable"

I have to admit, I thought this would have been a shorter post, not realizing the work that has already been compiled on what I thought was my unique word of the day. Turns out it was a lot of people's unique word of the day at one time or another.

Hey, You Never Know

People's lives have been turned upside down, ruined and literally destroyed by what should have been the luckiest and most fortunate experience ever: winning the lottery. I watched the E!THS: Curse of the Lottery this afternoon and decided to save myself the hassle by decided now what to do with my winnings. In no particular order, when I win the lottery jackpot, I will:

+ Provide dental care to British citizens.
+ Pay Shonda Rhimes to let me watch all the tapings of GREY'S I want.
+ Get ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT and DAYBREAK back on the air.
+ Buy a Manhattan brownstone.
+ Get everything advertised on the commercial for Macy's One Day sale.
+ Not support W
+ Buy scores and albums rather than creatively acquiring them.
+ Get a MacBookPro and a new iPod.
+ Hire a driver.
+ Hire a chef.
+ Hire a stylist.
+ Hire a girlfriend. I mean...

What will YOU do?

**********

I was recently the target of an internet heist. My identity was stolen. Well, I think so anyway. I had some suspicious interaction with both MySpace and Amazon, received a couple of emails with bogus links and just had that general "I smell something fishy" sense about the whole thing. So, okay. I took action. I fired back. I wasn't going to let mister (or miss, or missus, or mademoiselle, or senor, or whatEVA!) hacker steal MY life.

I spent a good portion of an afternoon changing my passwords to EVERYTHING. My online banking, facebook and myspace type accounts, amazon and ebay style stores, blogging and newspaper mumbo jumos... all of them had to be re-passworded. Phew. Quite the process. But I did it. I completed the entire thing and changed all my passwords. I felt great.

Then I went to access any number of the just-password-altered sites. BRICK WALL. I had forgotten the password. Of course, I wrote them all down. But the problem is that they were all so similar, and I used to have them all memorized. The email got password XYX for this reason, but the banks were password YXY because all I needed to remember was to invert and reverse the email password. This went on ad nauseam in my brain, of which we don't use enough (perhaps another post in the making?).

Long story short, I'm just now getting the hang of these new passwords.

You probably didn't care, did you?

"Day Break" Canceled

Rather than give us the rest of the episodes in the series, ABC has opted to play reruns of "George Lopez" and "According to Jim" in the midseason slot originally designated for Taye Diggs' mini-series. DAY BREAK was only scheduled for a couple of months, and the show's official FAQ says:

Q: Will Hopper make it to tomorrow by the end of this season?
A: Yes.

Apparently, now, it's no. The show was just here to fill in for LOST while it was on hiatus. A mere 13 weeks, that's all. Then, ABC announced LOST would move to 10pm in its effort to regain lost viewers to CBS's CRIMINAL MINDS (with the incomprable Mandy Patinkin). It's a good show -- I watched regularly, and videotaped Patinkin's show to watch immediately after. Now, I'm going to have to wait until ABC posts the remaining episodes online, then watch them over my not-fast-enough web connection, which will take me about two hours to watch each 40-something-minute episode. Argh.

So MINDS overtook both the powerhouse that was LOST and the excitement that was/is DAY BREAK. It's too bad they couldn't even give us the rest of the order ... what, seven or eight more episodes? Execs must be terrified. Nothing is doing well in this slot. They're now betting on two half-hour comedies to spice things up after the New Year.

Plus, I'd found another TV girlfriend in Victoria Pratt to add to my collection (Pompeo, Paulson, and now Pratt). Funny, my crush in grade school's last name started with a "P" too.

And, not that I was watching anyway, Shatner's new SHOW ME THE MONEY has been pulled too... just after ABC last week ordered six new episodes. Talk about a %$#@-tease.

M O L A S S E S

as in, "slow as."

i was going to write a major, detailed, in depth feature tonight, but my web service is
S L O W
A S
H E C K
tonight. so i'm not. i'm merely checking in and will get back to you in the day to come. holler.

Highest Scoring NHL Game

I've been wondering the past few months about this and finally decided to figure it out. Of course, a quick google search gave me the answer. Did you already know this? As far as regular season hockey games are concerned in the NHL... the most goals scored by a team in one game is 16 (Montreal Canadiens beat Quebec Bulldogs 16-3, at Quebec, on March 3rd, 1920). The most goals scored in a game is 21, and it happened twice! (Montreal Canadiens beat Toronto S. Patricks at Montreal 14-7 on January 10th, 1920; Edmonton Oilers beat Chicago BlackHawks at Chicago 12-9 on December 11th, 1985).

Peter Boyle (1935-2006)

In memoriam, letting his work speak for itself:

A Big Dirty Swamp

Barbara Walters tonight named her 10 most fascinating people of the year. Number one, Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi. She said that outside of the war (for which she has called Mr Bush incompetent), her number one priority is draining the swamp in the Capitol. "Maybe it'll take a woman to clean the house."

Wikipedia explains: "Pelosi is the first woman to lead a major political party in either house of Congress, and once formally elected, she would be the first woman to serve as Speaker. She would also be the first Californian or Italian American to hold the post, and the second Speaker from west of the Rockies (behind fellow Democrat Tom Foley of Washington). As Speaker, she would rank second in the presidential line of succession (behind the Vice President)."

Perhaps this is what we need. A woman in charge of something. Maybe she'll make some changes, make people aware, make people find some hope in the political arena of our country. Plus, she's pro-choice, pro gun control, and against the draft reinstituion. Let's hope that we actually can find some hope in Pelosi's new position and her party's success once they take over and begin their era of change in the coming year.

I'm glad she's here, I'm glad I'm here and I'm glad you're here.

Rita Moreno: b'day series

Beedow's Birthdays in History: A New Series... for when I don't have other things to write about slash time to write it in.

Today we featured Rita Moreno, born December 11 1931. She was on Broadway at age thirteen in the short-lived play SKYDRIFT (seven whole performances at the Belasco--which recently hosted the terrific revival of Odet's AWAKE AND SING!), which also starred Eli Wallach. She earned great recognition at age thirty for her role in the movie-fied WEST SIDE STORY as ingenue Maria.

What's the coolest thing about Rita? Well, she has an Oscar, Tony, Jefferson, Grammy, Emmy and a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Only eight other people, and no other Hispanics, have rec'd the Big Four awards. But some will remember her best for yelling "Hey you guys" on PBS back in the 80s.

A Salute to Book Writers

"In her [Nov 26th] article on Raúl Esparza, Joyce Wadler keeps referring to the show in which he appears as “Sondheim’s ‘Company.’ ” Once again The New York Times, like so many other publications, neglects to mention the book writer’s contribution to a musical, in this case that (and a brilliant that) of George Furth. One of the pleasures of John Doyle’s production is that it draws attention to George’s work. Would that The New York Times and other publications acknowledged what book writers do." Stephen Sondheim, Manhattan

In his letter to the editor, Mr Sondheim reveals how sublime an individual he truly is. How true that book writers often get the back burner, if they get a burner at all. Today, I offer a brief list of some very talented individuals and the musicals for which they deserve credit.

George Furth: COMPANY, THE ACT, MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG
Rachel Sheinkin: PUTNAM COUNTY SPELLING BEE
Roger Allers and Irene Mecchi: LION KING
Joseph A. Fields: WONDERFUL TOWN, FLOWER DRUM SONG, GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES
Jerome Chodorov: WONDERFUL TOWN, I HAD A BALL
Arthur Kopit: NINE, HIGH SOCIETY
Lawrence D. Cohen: CARRIE
Tom Eyen: DREAMGIRLS
Bill Russell: SIDE SHOW
Bob Martin, Don McKellar: DROWSY CHAPERONE
Doug Wright: GREY GARDENS
Otto Harbach: NO NO NANETTE, ROBERTA, ROSE MARIE (and about 75 others!)
Arthur Laurents: WEST SIDE STORY, GYPSY, NICK AND NORA, ANYONE CAN WHISTLE
Burt Shevelove: A FUNNY THING...FORUM
Larry Gelbart: A FUNNY THING...FORUM, CITY OF ANGELS
Sherman Yellen: REX, THE ROTHSCHILDS
Peter Stone: TITANIC, CURTAINS, SUGAR, 1776, others
Thomas Meehan: ANNIE, HAIRSPRAY, PRODUCERS, BOMBAY DREAMS

For more, check out IBDB.com.

Details to Follow

Today I catch up with some observations I promised in previous posts.

BABEL: gritty and heartbreaking. I found it much like TRAFFIC in its three connected, but not, storylines. The lucky Fanning family has two cute kids, those girls are just adorable. Never thought I'd see Brad holding Cate while she peed, but, okay. Also, that brings me to a different Cate point: she's a workaholic. At the previews last night, she was the star of two of them (the young boy madly in love with his teacher and vice-versa NOTES ON A SCANDAL, as well as the black-and-white-world-war-throwback THE GOOD GERMAN) not to mention two more productions currently in post-production and another currently being filmed. Phew!

But lest I babble on... ha! I went to see it because it was the longest movie up at the local screen, and I wanted to get my money's worth of something. It was good, because I like kleenex-films: SOPHIE'S CHOICE, HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG, LIFE AS A HOUSE. These are all, in their own ways, kleenex-films, and I like them. So there.

DREAMGIRLS SDTK: I confess I haven't listened to the entire thing yet. So I withold comment.

IDEAS: Cattleworks lambasted me, well, seemed surprised, when I said I was out of ideas. And, to everyone's credit, I haven't been in need of post topics in a few days. They've actually been flying around inside my head waiting to get some keyboard action. However, I do need to address his comment about Queen City Theatre, and theatre in general.

See, I was writing early in this blog's history, about my experiences at the theatre across the country. However, my standards are high, and a lot of what I was seeing was garnering negative reviews from me. Then, it happened that one of those people worked with a friend of mine, and I came awfully close to getting sacked for having written a bad review about said person and then actually working with them. I don't want to put myself in the position where I have to defend or not defend my views, so I simply am not going to post negative reviews of stage productions.

However, some other topics you brought up are worthy of chatter, and I look forward to considering them in the future. Happy Saturday.

"Grand Hotel... always the same. People come, people go. Nothing ever happens."

If only "nothing ever happens." Rather, RFK was assassinated and nothing was ever the same it would seem. Emilio Estevez's BOBBY is gripping. From Anthony Hopkins and Harry Belafonte's first lines about the Grand Hotel through the end of the credits, it is excellent filmmaking. The characters are real, the emotions are universal, the war stories are current. This is what the film industry should be. Always. No exceptions. It was beautiful and tragic, sweeping and innocent. More, it is timely and wholly relevant.

I was pleased as punch with Ms Lohan, of whom you may recall I haven't always been so thrilled. Her performance, and Elijah Wood's eyes (they were bluer than mine for chrissake), surprised the heck out of me. And maybe it wasn't her performance so much as the events surrounding her, and the epic scale of the finale ultimo in the kitchen. But anyway, at least she was comprehendable.

The very funny, very clever actors Shia LaBeouf and Brian Geraghty took their scenes and flew ... sky high. "Look at me." "I am." "Now, look at me ... through my eyes." Pass eyeglasses. Brilliant.

I was captivated by Mr Fishbourne's early scene over cobbler. Talk about taking the text, chewing it up, mulling it around, making it speak on so many levels and at twelve different volumes at once, spitting back out, and having all of that captured in the lens. He did excellent work in his scenes, of which I think there were a total of two? Both bursting with talent, however. Such a marvelous performance.

Hopkins is at the door to welcome the Senator in a really human moment. He's king of the screen in my book -- what I wouldn't give to simply watch him work. He is a fascinating (and terribly imposing, in that you're-my-hero sort of way) persona on screen, and I imagine him to be a real genuine soul in life, too.

So, of course, then there's the end. Again, the filmmaking is rich. Camera work, audio, file footage, editing, et al. are terrific. Kudos to the team behind the screen for making this sequence happen. I'm so thrilled to really agree with JJ about a film. He loved BOBBY and so did I. And I didn't love it because he did, or because I was trying to see in it what he saw weeks before. I really found it incredibly wonderful on my own. As I've hinted at before, to me, it was sad and uplifting at the same time. It's a film of these sort of oxymorons, I think.

It's really important for people to see movies like this, and for Hollywood and the razzle dazzles out there to make them. It's fantastic, because yesterday, I wrote about the hate that PRIMETIME exploited of minorities in our world. I found myself making comparisons here... such beautiful words for these actors to say, such crippling images for our eyes to see... all about the dangers and results of hatred and anger, war and rebellion. What a time to be alive--when in the face of such fear and doubt that Vietnam brought to America, there was someone who wanted to lead, someone who was willing to actually say (in much more eloquent words), "Gosh, we're in a heap o' trouble. Let's figure out what's wrong and fix it. We have to accept and acknowlege our mistakes, then move on and try to do good."

Knowing nothing about the film or Kennedy, I found myself transfixed and contemplative, wanting to know more. And yet, maybe, wishing I wouldn't have to look to the past for a leader who would be frank with the American people. In Prestonburg, Kentucky (not Prestonsburg, which is quite a distance from the other, as I found out this spring), Kennedy told the truth. Things were bad. People were not doing well. Everyone already knew it, so that wasn't the shock, but perhaps that he was man enough to say it to them. AND, he went on to say it didn't have to be like that, it could be better. It was a shame that in a country so blessed with riches as we are, there were places still like Prestonburg. And it's STILL TRUE. Things haven't changed that much. We need now someone who can affect change, who can accept our mistakes, seriously consider the suggestions and criticism of colleagues. We need a visonary, a leader, a go-getter, a person, a human being with a personality that rings true with all of us.

I wonder if it will ever happen. But, I wonder thanks to BOBBY. Go see it. Do yourself a favor.

When is Enough Enough?

Gay-haters. Pedophiles. Elderly-abusers. Peeping toms. PDAs. Reckless children, sans parents.

Just turn on your television news magazine program any night of the week, and these are some of the things you'll see. Last night, ABC's PRIMETIME aired a special "Basic Instincts" program. Their goal was to show us, using actors, what the normal, average person's reaction is to these sorts of people.

In the first few moments, they showed a handful of people riding in Vegas taxis and talking smack about homosexuals. This is getting ridiculous. Sure, they claim to have our best interests at heart, but with their programming, I have two gripes.

One. If this is a major problem, why add fuel to the fire by showing it to us and making us watch it even more? I am tired of this incessant bashing of people. Why do we have to keep watching it? Isn't it enough to have Katie tell us about it on the "official" nightly news or read about it in the Times? Let's use these television news magazines for something else!

Two. "They have no idea..." Don't these regular people, the subjects of the news magazines value their privacy? I would be OUTRAGED to be "caught by hidden cameras" and made a pawn in this hogwash. Not only are the subjects videotaped for their candid reactions, but AUDIOTAPED as well.

In the elderly-abuse segment, one man watched the abuse for nineteen minutes and then rode away on his bicycle. Well, if I were him, I'd sue. Primetime said the man never came back. So, they had his face on tape, showed it on network television, all without his permission it sounds like... since he never came back.

One segment did pixel out the faces of some subjects, but even so.

I'm appalled when ABC decides "enough is enough" and walks in to break the news. This is a terrible version of CANDID CAMERA and I don't think it's right. It's a HUGE violation of privacy, even if it's not aired on television. It's absolutely not their place--the networks have no right to video- or audio-record our lives. Our private lives.

Worse, a group of red hat ladies starts screaming and laughing when John Quiñones walks in saying, "I'm from PRIMETIME."

Even back when they were barging in on pedophiles in their homes. Of course they were in the wrong, no one is debating that. Well, maybe they are, but not here at EA(t) A(t) (j)OE'S. However, where's the warrant? This is why we have police, courts, judges, checks and balances. This civilian's arrest, or TV Anchor Arrest, is not right.

But... one funny moment from last night: this conversation between two diners watching what they were led to believe was an extra-marital affair:
HER: "If that ever happens to us, I'll kill you."
HIM: (chuckling) "OK"
HER: "No. Seriously. I will kill you. I'll kill you."

Depressed? I'd rather lather.

I don't know what it was. I'm still at a loss, I guess, but either way, it doesn't matter much. Depression, that is. Or, more specifically, the cause of my depression. No, not like clinically. But... what's the opposite of clinical? Home-ical? Nothing went right yesterday. It was blah. I sat at the machinery at work, unhappy. Not even my iPod could cheer me up. I mean, I've listened to a lot of the music on there, no not all of it (gimme a break, you try listening to 11,451 songs--that's right.), but I didn't want it anymore. I'd had it with musicals, and my non-musicals weren't hitting the spot.

So, once home, I figured I should go the gym. I wasn't in the mood at all, but I went. Whatever. I eliptical-ized for, oh, say eight minutes, stopped, put on my long pants and coat and drove back home. I wasn't having it. At all. Don't know why, just bummed.

So I had a beer. The day before I stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work (also depressed...) and bought beer, chips, candy... anything to make me feel better. I'm like a pregnant woman when it comes to food. Give it to me or you're gonna die. I bought Carlsberg. I thought I'd had it before and enjoyed it. WRONG. It sucked. I dunno, smells bad and tastes like a mediocre Bud. I know! How terrible.

Then I went to the mall. I decided to see a movie and had an extra hour to kill. I bought the soundtrack for DREAMGIRLS (details to follow), avoided the cell-phone-kiosk-a@#hole, yada yada yada... it was time for the movie, BABEL (details to follow).

Anyhow, what got me all day, all that depressing day, was how much we deny ourselves. I mean, I didn't deny myself anything yesterday. I wanted it and I took it -- whatever it was. Because I was in a crappy mood. But on regular days, why do I force myself to go to the gym, work a job where I have to get up at the God-forsaken hour of 8:45am? WHY DO I SCRIMP AND SAVE THE SOAP IN THE SHOWER? You know, this new liquid soap everyone's been using with those loofah things? I don't use those, but I use the soap, sparingly of course. But yesterday, standing there with my washcloth, hot water scalding my shoulders, I decided, actually said it outloud, "I want more soap." So I poured on some extra soap. And I lathered all up. Mmm. I did the same thing today. YES! Now I know what that girl in the Herbal Essence commercial is so excited about. LATHER!

Sorkin's Stellar

Wow, that image is a lot smaller than I thought it would be. Anyway, last night's STUDIO 60 ON THE SUNSET STRIP was as good as they've been. If the current developing plot lines can't get and/or keep a viewership, we've got problems in America. How can SUPERNANNY survive season after season, and a top-notch hour of television like STUDIO 60 struggle even to the halfway point of its first season? It's a depressing state of affairs I see.

I don't think it hurts that I'm also a little bit, a little bit in love (name that lyricist...) with all four major characters. Bradley Whitford, Matthew Perry, Sarah Paulson and Amanda Peet are all really excellent in their roles. The dialogue is sharp, well executed and precise. The staging looks effortless, and is brilliantly manuevered. They're all gorgeous people, too, which doesn't hurt.

In fact, I wrote in my little pink diary last night about Paulson (and Ellen Pompeo) who has just the most wonderful mouth/lips. Sue me, sue me, what can you do me... (how about that lyricist?)

Tom also wrote about STUDIO 60 back in October.

Journalism Gripe

That's right, now that I can command+shift+4, I will be showing you all different angles of my PowerBook desktop.

Today's topic is a gripe. With writers. Or, non-writers, perhaps.

So, the other day, NYT ran a profile on Kristen Chenoweth. Just a simple follow-her-and-her-dog-around-town type thing. Today, Playbill.com runs a story using a TEENY TINY bit of information from the NYT story, and passes it off as its own. We already learned from the Times that Chenoweth and Nathan Lane are developing a sitcom about talk-show personalities like Regis and Kelly. We know that. So why does Playbill have to tell us that same information, packed inside a "story" which only includes other information (bios) we already know and pawn it off as news? This is not news, this is old information.

I don't mean to pick on Mr Pincus-Roth from Playbill. Sir, I'm sure it's not your fault. I mean to pick on news sources in general. I read something in the Times or other reputable source on, say, Tuesday morning. I've been known to pick up my local Queen City paper up to ten days later and find the same story -- either word for word or simply repackaged. Can't we figure out a way to write our own stories? Doesn't anyone see the point in twelve people not writing the same story for twelve different papers or magazines or news outlets? At least spruce it up.

HOLLER

This is unbelievable! I am so grateful to Brock for his sage wisdom which now allows me to take pictures of EVERYTHING on my desktop (including this calendar picture right here). I love it. I am going to do it all the time. It's amazing. Phew!

Okay, now that I got that out of my system, I went to see Handel's MESSIAH tonight. It was a nice thing to do. I sang it five years ago and haven't heard it since ... but tonight was very nice. The drive home, though ... uh oh! Looks like winter is finally here. The roads were covered with a light dusting of snow and deceptively pretty. I skidded a couple of times before I remembered, "Oh! I'm from here, I should drive like I've dealt with this my whole life." And then I was fine.

I'm (obviously/very clearly) running out of ideas for topics and I'm SO not even really started on PROJECT 365. No one cares what I write. Help. This needs to be passionate and topical. Problem is, I have nothing to say.

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

This week has been exhausting. I've worked, like a regular human being, five whole days in a row. I went to a sporting event last night and afterward for a drink. Today, I slept in, went eliptical-ing, watched the end of LOVE ACTUALLY and did some web design research. Now, I plan to watch HANNAH AND HER SISTERS because I didn't do it last week when I should have -- it's my favorite Thanksgiving movie. It always makes me feel cozy and warm, even though I'm not sure I'd want my life to be like the ones in the film, it just exudes the sort of aura that I feel is right for that holiday. Perhaps moreso than Christmas, Thanksgiving is the coziest holiday in my book.

You may ask, "Beedow, what book is that?" Well, I don't understand the question and I won't respond.

World AIDS Day

I was nervous I wasn't going to be able to blog today. When I came home from work, our power was out. It was strangely reminiscent of October 13, the day people around here cringe when they think of -- some people were without power for weeks. Luckily, I went out to dinner, and upon the arrival home, it was on. I'm happy.

It's interesting, I think, when the power goes out. People know the power is out, we're constantly complaining about that fact, and yet we still walk into rooms and flip the light switch "on." Come on! Why is that? It's like there's this huge elephant in the room, I guess.

Anyhow, happy 21st to my brother. And support for World AIDS Day y'all.