Citizen of the Month

the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Category: Movies and Television (Page 4 of 8)

How Jack Bauer Has Ruined My Life

January 23, 2007 / / 51 Comments

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7AM – Los Angeles

After using the bathroom, Jack Bauer hears screams from his separated wife, Sophia.

“Jack, Jack! The toilet is overflowing!”

Within a second, Jack has pushed Sophia aside and jumped into the bathroom. Jack shoves his bare foot directly into the toilet, stopping the flow.

“I thought you called the plumber,” says his upset separated wife.

“He didn’t show up yet?!  Dammit, I’ll be right back, Sophia.”

Jack jumps out of the bathroom window and runs down the San Diego Freeway, against traffic, until he reaches the plumber’s house.  Jack breaks in and tortures the plumber with the plumber’s “snake,” forcing the plumber to immediately come over to his home to fix the toilet, then clean the bathroom until it is spotless.

7AM – Los Angeles

After using the bathroom, Neil hears screams from his separated wife, Sophia.

“Neil, Neil! The toilet is overflowing!”

Neil nervously approaches, not wanting to get involved.

“Come here!!! Do something!” yells Sophia.

Neil meekly looks into the bathroom, fear in his eyes.

“What do you want me to do?” Neil screams.

“We have to stop it before the water is all over the f**king house!”

Neil walks on tiptoes into the bathroom so as not to touch any of the water coming over the top of the toilet onto the linoleum floor.

“Yuch…yuch… yuch…” he says, wishing he wasn’t wearing his favorite Keds.

Neil jiggles the handle and the toilet stops overflowing.

“It’s the floor!  It’s going to leak down to the living room.  We need some towels!” cries Sophia.

Neil grabs the two towels hanging on the bathroom rack.

“Not those towels!” she adds.  “Those are 100-percent combed cotton towels.  Use the polyester towels YOUR MOTHER gave us! 

Neil goes into the “towel” closet to search for those towels Sophia always hated, but told his mother otherwise.

“I thought you called the plumber,” says his upset separated wife.

“I did. He can’t come until Thursday!” (Neil really didn’t)

“Call him again. Tell him it is an emergency!”

After reluctantly cleaning the bathroom with Sophia  (his excuse for the mediocre blog post yesterday) and taking two showers afterwards because he felt disgusting, Neil calls the plumber on the phone, who tells him that he can’t come until Thursday.

Damn Jack Bauer. 

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  Call Me

Fame!

January 7, 2007 / / 45 Comments

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Jonas Salk and Paris Hilton

There is no TV show that irritates me more than 20/20, the ABC News “Magazine,” especially when John Stossel does one of his famous investigative reports. The “research” always reminds me of something I once did for my 8th grade Social Studies class.

Friday’s 20/20 was titled “Are We Addicted To Fame?”

If you could wave a magic wand and make yourself smarter, stronger, more beautiful, or famous, which would you pick? I was surprised by how many people pick fame over everything else.

The show introduces us to our culture’s sick obsession with celebrity and fame. There are showbiz kids desperate for a part in a sitcom, students who take Learning Annex-type courses to become celebrity assistants, and crazed fans who dream of just being in the same room as someone famous.

Throughout the show, you get the sense that (the famous) John Stossel looks down on these fanatics. In fact, he seems to be disappointed in MOST OF US, as if most Americans are a bunch of sick puppies. To understand our crazed obsessions better, he turns to the usual suspects — the EXPERTS!

I used to wonder where these newsmagazines always find these experts, but blogging has helped me understand how the mass media works. A few months ago, a producer from Washington Post Radio emailed me after I wrote some humorous blog post about Mel Gibson’s infamous night out.  The host wanted to interview me about my opinion of Mel Gibson’s anti-Semitism, as if I had some special knowledge of the subject because I was both Jewish and had seen Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome three times.  Do I really need to say any more about how qualified these experts are? (editor’s note: Neil is available as a media “expert” on blogging, relationships, Los Angeles, New York, Redondo Beach, pizza in Flushing, and women [sorry, that one is still a mystery to him])

For all of John Stossel’s hand-wringing about our sick society, he glosses over the fact that the ONES who profit the most from this celebrity culture are the experts he interviews, such as Janice Min, editor-in-chief of “Us Weekly.”

Ms. Min on celebrities of today:

“You don’t even have to be so talented to be famous. You just have to be outrageous, well dressed, gorgeous, date the right person.”

John Stossel also interviews Leigh Hallisey, a professor who TEACHES a course on TV and Popular Culture at Boston University’s College of Communication.

“It used to be enough that you got attention from your parents. You got attention from your teachers, your peers and that sort of thing, but that is no longer enough,” said Hallisey. “We want attention from the worldwide media.”

However, the real talking head of the show is Jake Halpern, who just happened to have written a book titled “Fame Junkies: The Hidden Truths Behind America’s Favorite Addiction, which just happens to be be published by Houghton Mifflin RIGHT NOW in January 2007 (talk about a good PR firm). I have not read the book, but I have a feeling it doesn’t contain any scathing attacks on media-obsessed magazines such as US Weekly or Entertainment Weekly. How do I know this? Because Entertainment Weekly is running a 7-Page excerpt from the book right in the magazine! (another PR coup!)

John Stossel is fascinated by Mr. Halpern’s findings, tidbits like: most teenage girls would rather grow up to be a celebrity assistant than a U.S. Senator.

Mr. Halpern theorizes that celebrity magazines like “Us Weekly,” “People” and “In Touch” are so popular because people are lonely. Halpern points out that today more young people tend to marry later in life and more can afford their own living spaces, so they spend more time alone.

Celebrities become a way to connect us to each other. It’s sad really. There’s a lot of head-shaking going on in the 20/20 episode. Our children are fame junkies. The rest of us are lonely and miserable, with no connection to real life. The worst part of our celebrity obsession is that we are all growing up to be imbeciles. To prove this, John Stossel takes to the streets and asks passerbys to identify both Paris Hilton and Jonas Salk. Much like in those Tonight Show “Jaywalking” segments, most people are idiots. Everyone knows Nicole Richie’s former partner, but only an oid fart has heard of the developer of the first polio vaccine.

For shame! For shame!

But who’s to blame? Our parents? Our schools? Modern loneliness?

If John Stossel had any cojones he would have looked over at some of the ABC News executives he works with.  A quick search on the ABC News website shows 505 pages of news stories about Paris Hilton and ONLY 22 pages about Jonas Salk. Is it any wonder we know and care more about Paris Hilton than Jonas Salk — because ABC News likes it that way!

By the way, just out of curiosity, I looked up the last ABC News story that mentioned Jonas Salk, one of the greatest men of the Twentieth Century. This is it —

The same year that Jonas Salk discovered a vaccine for polio, a little-known chemist at General Foods stumbled on to what would provide a revolution in mouths across the country.

William A. Mitchell had a simple hope in 1956 — make instant soda from a tablet. The soda didn’t pan out, but he created a hit. His research led to the invention of Pop Rocks candy.

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: CES, Day One

A Charlie Brown Blog Post

November 21, 2006 / / 72 Comments

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Every once in a while I like to share my enthusiasm for some old-fashioned American pop culture with Sophia, who didn’t move to this country until she was an adult, and missed out on such important bonding experiences, like watching reruns of The Brady Bunch after school.  Unfortunately, my attempts at getting her to love what I loved usually strike out.  She thought Star Wars was ridiculous.  She found the Wizard of Oz — get this — a little boring. 

Last night, it was time to introduce her to the Peanuts gang.  A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving was on TV.  Even though it is one of the gang’s lesser holiday specials (the Christmas one is the best), how can anyone resist Charlie Brown?   Uh… well…

First of all, I forgot how SLOOOOOWWWLY these cartoons are paced.   Even I was hoping for Homer Simpson to jump into the frame and create some drama.  I cannot imagine today’s hyper kids watching these gentle, rather unfunny holiday shows.

Sophia was confused with the characters from the start.

Scene 1 — Charlie Brown is being tempted to kick the football by Lucy.

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Sophia:  What’s going on?

Neil:  Charlie Brown will try to kick the football and Lucy, the girl, will take it away.  It’s a running gag.

Charlie Brown falls on his ass.

Sophia:  That wasn’t very funny.

Neil:  Well, it used to be. 

Sophia:  Really?

Neil:  Well, I guess it was never really that funny.

Scene 2 — Linus enters Charlie Brown’s home.

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Sophia:  You know, I was wondering — why is Charlie Brown bald?

Neil:  I have no idea.

Sophia:  Are you sure he isn’t an old man?

Neil:  He’s a kid.

Sophia:  And what about this guy —  his friend?

Neil:  Linus?

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Sophia:  He looks like he has hairplugs.

Neil:  That’s just how he was drawn.  He’s a kid also.  Look, he carries around a blanket.

Sophia:  Why?

Neil:  Uh, it’s a security blanket.  It’s complicated.  He’s intelligent, but he’s anxious.

Sophia:  Like you?

Neil:  No.  Not really.

Sophia:  Is this also supposed to be funny?

Neil:  Sort of.  Not ha-ha funny.  Gentle funny.

Sophia:  These are just weird characters.

Scene 3 — Snoopy enters Charlie Brown’s home.

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Neil:  That’s Snoopy.  You’ve heard of him, of course.

Sophia:  No.

Neil:  You’ve NEVER heard of Snoopy?

Sophia:  Is he a spy?

Neil:  A spy?

Sophia:  Why is he called Snoopy?

Neil:  I don’t know.  But he’s like the most popular character.  He was on t-shirts and things!

Sophia:  Does he talk?

Neil:  No, he doesn’t talk.

Sophia:  So, what makes him so popular?

Neil:  He’s cool.

Sophia:  ?

Scene 4 — Peppermint Patty calls Charlie Brown on the phone and invites herself over for Thanksgiving dinner.  She says she is bringing Marcie and Franklin.

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Sophia:  Is that a man?

Neil:  No, that’s Peppermint Patty.  She’s a tomboy.

Sophia:  No way, that’s a man. 

Neil:  No, it’s a girl.

Sophia:  Wow, she is so butch.

Marcie enters.

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Sophia:  And there’s her girlfriend.

Neil: It is not her girlfriend! That’s Marcie.  I don’t remember much about her.

Marcie calls Peppermint Patty “Sir.”

Sophia:  You see!  She is a man!

Neil:  She’s not.  Marcie just calls her “Sir.”

Sophia:   This is one freaky show!

Franklin enters.

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Sophia:  Is he the one black character?

Neil:  Yes.

After A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, there was the “world premiere” of a new Charlie Brown cartoon, but I shut it off the minute I saw Snoopy doing Tony Hawk stunts on his skateboard.  Charles Schultz would NOT have Snoopy on a skateboard.

Sophia:  So, you really watched these cartoons all the time?

Neil:  I used to love the Peanuts.

Sophia:  What did you love about it?

Neil:  I think I related to Charlie Brown.

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Peanuts characters by Charles Schultz/United Media

 

Promotional Awareness

October 8, 2006 / / 54 Comments

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After I made my blog “pink” for Breast Awareness Month, I received a surprising email from someone who is against the whole concept of “awareness” month.  It seems as if there are quite a few people out there who think corporations are using their support of breast cancer for their own profit and brand awareness.  Are yogurt brands really interested in breast cancer or are they just marketing to women?  

From the blog  I Blame the Patriarchy:

But where’s the activism? The ostensible focus of all this pseudo-philanthropic pink jockeying is a kind of nebulous breast cancer ‘awareness’, rather than any serious effort at prevention or investigation into what actually causes breast cancer in the first place. Furthermore, once all this ‘awareness’ has produced, via mammography outreach programs or self-exam propaganda (both masquerading as ‘prevention’), a positive diagnosis, there’s not any great push to secure treatment for underserved women.

I don’t agree with this type of reasoning.   A lot of money is going to good use and all this corporate sponsorship is surely helping.  Or is it?

Politicians support virtually unopposable ‘bipartisan’ breast cancer funding initiatives as directed by behemoths like the massively influential and reactionary Komen Foundation and come out smelling like a rose. The rank and file, conditioned by now to believe that there’s no problem shopping can’t solve, are invited to feel virtuous and altruistic whenever they buy a Yoplait yogurt or a pink KitchenAid mixer.

My question for these naysayers:  would it be better if it were the other way — and there was no corporate sponsorship?  And isn’t this exactly what progressives have been asking for — for corporations to be more responsive to their consumers?  You think supermarkets (and Walmart) are completely altruistic because they have started to carry organic foods?  Or Starbucks carrying coffee from certain countries?  Of course they hope to make profits while doing some “good.”

But, I thank you, e-mailer, for opening my eyes to an interesting topic.

This mix of promotion and politics was on my mind last night when I thought about going to the movies by myself.   With Sophia in New York for October, I thought about finding the movie with the most sex in it.

I read about Shortbus, a film by the director of “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” which is supposed filled with actors having real-life sex.  Perfect!

Now, once upon a time, moviegoers used to go to pornographic movies because they were horny or wanted to have some fun.  Things are different today.  You buy Yoplait yogurt because they support breast cancer awareness.  And you go to a porno movie because it is anti-Bush.  I read this before heading out the door —

A US film featuring actors performing real sex is a “call to arms” against President George W. Bush, the director told journalists at the Cannes film festival.

“Shortbus,” an explicit, largely improvised arthouse flick is a direct provocation, director John Cameron Mitchell admitted.

“It’s a little bit of a cri de coeur to us, a little bit of a call to arms” against the prevailing conservatism, he told a media conference, adding that his country was living in “the era of Bush, which is about clamping down, being scared.”

The 43-year-old, whose previous work was “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” about a transsexual rock singer, said the film was his own small act of defiance against Bush.

“If you can’t do elections you might as well do erections,” he said.

Oh, I see.   So, now the Whole Foods crowd, doesn’t have to feel guilty about going to see a SEX movie.  They are going to see an anti-Bush film.  In fact, by going to see to this movie — it’s a vote against the administration.

Yogurt as a breast cancer awareness tool.   Dislike of George Bush as a reason to see people f***ing.

I decided against going to the movies.  I went to a local juice bar wearing my pink breast cancer bracelet, met a cute girl, and asked her if she wanted to come back to my place to “protest the policies of the current administration.”

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  Survivor: Santa Fe

Popeye Attacked by Anti-Spinach Mob

September 26, 2006 / / 52 Comments

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The title of this post is misleading.  I was going to write a humor piece about Popeye, but as I sat down to watch an old Popeye cartoon on YouTube, a long-repressed memory was awoken, much as the memories of childhood of Proust’s narrator in “Remembrance of Things Past” was awakened by the aroma and taste of a madeleine dipped in tea.”

As i listened to the final “boop boop” of the Popeye closing credits, I went back to my childhood, when I used to watch reruns of Popeye on a local New York TV channel.  I must have been very young at the time and I was fascinated by the triangle of Popeye, Olive Oyl and the villainous Bluto.

The plot lines in the animated cartoons tended to be simple.

A villain, usually Bluto (later renamed Brutus for a time), makes a move on Popeye’s “sweetie”, Olive Oyl. The bad guy then clobbers Popeye until Popeye eats spinach, which gives him superhuman strength.

I especially liked it when Olive Oyl melted in Popeye’s arms at the end, after he defeated Bluto.

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As an only child, I was competitive with my father for my mother’s attention.  I think Freud would have loved to analyze my childhood obsession with Popeye.

I would ask my mother to cook some frozen spinach.  After they were cooked, I would have her  put the cooked spinach into a used can of Spaghetti-Os so I could make believe that I had a can of spinach like Popeye.  I have no idea why we just didn’t use a can of spinach!   Once I had my can of spinach as my acting prop, I became Popeye — in the same way Sir Laurence Olivier became Hamlet.  My mother was Olive Oyl.  She would go into her bedroom or the kitchen and cry for help.  I would eat some spinach out of the can with a fork, flex my bicep, and rush in to save her from whatever danger she was in.

Jeez, no wonder I repressed this.  How embarrassing!

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I called up my mother tonight.

Neil: Guess what I’m going to write about in my blog tomorrow?  “Popeye and spinach!”

Mom: Really?  Be careful with spinach.  There’s all that bad bagged spinach coming out of California.  Remember to wash it first.

Neil: I’m not calling you about spinach.  Do you remember watching Popeye?

Mom: I never watched Popeye as a child.  I never liked him.   He had this one eye.  And creepy voice.  And weird body.

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Neil: But you watched him with me.  Remember?

Mom: Did we?

Mom: Mom, it was a big deal for me back then.  I would be Popeye and you would be Olive Oyl — and I would rescue you?

Mom: We did that?

Neil: Yes!  Don’t you remember you would cook frozen spinach and put it in a Spaghetti-Os can?

Mom: Wouldn’t it make more sense to just buy a can of spinach?

Neil: I was going to ask you that!  Why did we do that?

Mom: I don’t remember this at all.  Maybe you played it with your friend Robert.

Neil: I played it with YOU.

Mom: I remember playing Scrabble with you.

Neil: Oh my god!  You’ve repressed the memory — just like I did!

Mom: And well… maybe it’s better that way.

Sophia’s Favorite New Technology

September 6, 2006 / / 35 Comments

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I haven’t written too much about it, but I’m pretty nervous about what happens when Sophia returns. Living apart, we were able to live in limbo land. Now that I’m here at her place, it is closer to “make it or break it” time.

Sometimes I wonder if we had kids, whether it would all be easier. We would have some external force keeping us together besides just “love.” Or even if we had some beloved pet that we dote on. The closest we have to a “third party” that we share in is watching “All My Children.”

I’ve written about “All My Children” in the past — about how Sophia turned me onto it. One of our special rituals at home is to take off our clothes, jump into bed together — and watch that day’s AMC on the Tivo.  Of course, as in most things, Sophia controls the remote control.  (editor’s note:  This does not mean sex — we started watching AMC in bed, so it became a tradition.  And the taking off of the clothes is mostly for practical reasons.  Who gets into bed in their dirty clothes?)

Even when we separated, we still spoke every day about the latest dumb plot twist, or just how bad Susan Lucci is as an actress.

While I’m stuck woman-less here in LA, Sophia has a bigger dilemma — how does she keep up with AMC? Her TV has bad reception and she has no access to a VCR.

At first, I tried to describe each episode over the phone, even doing dramatic reenactments of Tad and Dixie.

Tad: Tell me, Dixie, do you kill Doctor Madden?

Dixie: How can you ask me that, Tad? Don’t all the years we were married mean anything to you?

Tad: What about your affair with David Hayward?

Dixie: You drove me into his arms. If only you would have trusted me.

Tad: Blah blah blah (as we see David Hayward standing in the doorway, listening in as every soap opera character always does)

Obviously, my reenactment just wasn’t good enough for Sophia, especially with my New Yawk accent. So, I tried something new to please my demanding wife, much as I used to do in the bedroom a long long time ago. This time, I transferred each episode to my computer then uploaded them to Sophia via the internet. It was a OK idea, but the daily four hour process was not very efficient, and wrecked havoc on my blog reading.

Luckily, modern technology came to the rescue!

Sophia convinced me to get a Hava ($249 online). As they say on their website:

“HAVA is the New Wireless solution for high quality home viewing, multicasting and remote viewing. Watch your TV on a PC anywhere in your house up to 300 feet from your HAVA Box or transmit and watch video anywhere in the world via the internet.”

Basically, you take this small box and plug it it into your TV or Tivo. It then wirelessly sends your TV signal to the internet. The only other thing I had to buy was a faster “G” routers for forty dollars, because my older “B” router couldn’t handle the streaming.

Once it was set-up, Sophia could watch her TV at Redondo Beach on her laptop in Manhattan. All she needed was a password to get access. Even better, she has a virtual “remote control” to do everything she can do here — pause, delete, record, etc.  I can actually sit in Redondo Beach and watch her change the channels from NY!

Sophia must have been so excited playing with the TV because this morning I suddenly saw it jumping by itself from channel to channel, I saw every button on Tivo pressed.  For a second, I forgot about the Hava and thought that a ghost had taken over!

Pretty cool. Does this mean we’re all soon going to be watching “American Idol” in our local Starbucks? Or watching that Yankees game on our TV in Brookyn while in Paris?

After I returned home last night, I called Sophia and was happy to hear that she hadn’t watched “All My Children” yet.  Sophia put on her Hava, then we both took off our clothes, got into our respective beds in different cities, and watched yesterday’s “All My Children” at the exact same time. It was just like being together. Sophia even controlled the remote control.

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Dr. Phil’s Son Engaged to Playboy Triplet

Battle of the Races

August 31, 2006 / / 42 Comments

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For the first portion of the 13th edition of “Survivor,” which premieres Sept. 14, the contestants competing for the $1-million prize while stranded on the Cook Islands in the South Pacific will be divided into four teams — blacks, Asians, Latinos and whites.

It was announced today that General Motors has ended its sponsorship of CBS’s hit series “Survivor.” Some are wondering if this has anything to do with Survivor’s decision this year to divide the contestants by race and ethnicity, rather than the usual cheap gimmicks of gender and age.

Honestly, do these divisions even matter to the show, considering how the producers always seem to “keep around” the young girls in the bikinis for as long as possible, while kicking the old, demographically-wrong broads off as fast as the next promo break?

GM says the new gimmick has nothing to do with their decision to leave the show. Others continue speaking out about the show’s lack of good taste. For instance, a group of New York City officials has criticized the new format, saying it promotes divisiveness. They have asked CBS to reconsider its plans.

“How could anybody be so desperate for ratings?” City Councilman John Liu asked last week.

Show creator Mark Burnett pooh-poohs the criticism.

“By putting people in tribes, they clearly have to get rid of people of their own ethnicity,” Burnett, who also created NBC hit “The Apprentice”, told a group of reporters on Tuesday, Variety reports. “So it’s not racial at all.”

The big question is — will this be a fascinating sociological study or does this mean that Survivor, after 12 seasons on the air, has finally “jumped the shark.”

But excitement for the show runs big on the Vegas strip, as the professional gambling community debates the odds of which ethnic group will win.

“I put my money on the Asians” said Murray “The Greek” Solipikis. “They are smart and wise, like Mr. Miyagi.”

The following are the current odds, according to Las Vegas Reality Show Oddsmaker (LVRSO). (as always, remember to gamble responsibly!

African-Americans

Pros

  • Good in athletics
  • Have “street smarts”
  • Can use “rapping” as a secret code between tribe members
  • Tribal Camp will have the best music
  • Can bring out “race card” if too many tribal members are eliminated

Cons

  • Men cannot swim
  • Wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a “Survivor bandana”
  • Can’t understand why “crazy white folk” ENJOY camping outside
  • “Eat bugs — are you out of your motherf***ing mind?!”

THE ODDS 20-1

Asians

Pros

  • Others will be afraid that they might know “martial arts”
  • Math geeks will be good at solving “puzzle challenge”
  • Can make anything taste good by stir-frying it in a wok
  • Have actually eaten bugs as a delicacy
  • Japanese women thin enough to slide under obstacle courses
  • Asian cultural “group dynamics”

Cons

  • Too polite, let others go first
  • Mediocre at sports
  • Can build a microprocessor, but cannot set up a tent
  • Infighting between Japanese and Koreans
  • Sleepless nights as Japanese men rub against women while reading “Manga” pornographic comic books

THE ODDS 30-1

Latinos

Pros

  • Espanol has the best curses!
  • Women have nice big asses so fat deposits will help them survive longer
  • Men learned effective team management in Latin gangs such as 18th Street, MS13, and Pacatrece
  • When food gets low, have no problem sneaking into other camps as “illegal immigrant” tribesmembers
  • Women can distract men of other tribes by shaking “Shakira-style” during competitions

Cons

  • Have never actually watched this dumb show — Jeff who?
  • Churros not included in “food competition”
  • It is difficult to dance salsa in the dirt
  • No siestas allowed during the game
  • Can actually make MORE than a million dollars by selling vegetables on the freeway

THE ODDS 3-1

Caucasians

Pros

  • Stupid enough to enjoy camping and “proving” oneself by eating live bugs
  • The network wants them to win
  • Were the only competitors invited over to Jeff Probst’s home for dinner
  • Have actually watched all previous 12 seasons of Survivor because that is what “white people” do on Thursday night

Cons

  • Zero street smarts
  • Boring as hell
  • Women anorexic before the game even begins
  • They take the game WAY too seriously

THE ODDS 12-1

Which group are you rooting for?

(note:  thank you, Laurie, the phattest Southern belle knitting blogger in LA, for telling me that I was totally off-base with previously using the Crips and Bloods as Latino gangs. I am SO WHITE!)

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Dude Thinks Like a Lady

A Very Brief Windfall

July 16, 2006 / / 57 Comments

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Last Thursday Sophia appeared in her first of two episodes of NBC’s “Windfall,” playing a Russian interpreter. I was all excited about the big day. I invited some friends over for a screening party.

After snacking on some wine, cheese, and dessert, we sat down to watch the show. Everyone clapped as the show started. During the opening credits, the group talked about how old Luke Perry got and tried to remember if Jason Gedrick once dated Julia Roberts.

Sophia’s scene came within the first ten minutes of the show. Without going into too many details, there is a Russian lowlife who is accused of killing one of the winners of the Windfall lottery. Sophia plays his court interpreter. The scene began. A few seconds later, the scene ended.

“That’s it?” asked Sophia. “They cut my two and a half page scene to fifteen seconds!”

We told Sophia she was very good. She actually was very good, stealing the spotlight in her brief moment on screen. But Sophia’s mind was still focused elsewhere.

“And there was something else I think I noticed…” she said.

Sophia used her DVR to rewind back to the scene.

“My god, look at that, for half the scene, my face is covered by the NBC logo! Maybe it’s just as well.”

We couldn’t help but laugh. The life of a Hollywood actress!

We reminded Sophia that she is in an upcoming episode, hopefully one with more lines left uncut. Actually, Sophia didn’t want me to tell my readers in advance about her TV appearance because she was upset about the way they made her look for the part. They had dressed her in a dowdy outfit with bad makeup and hair, as if she just got off the boat from Siberia. Sophia hated the fact that they thought being a foreigner or someone over size 4 meant you walk around wearing a potato sack.

“I know a part is a part, and I don’t mind at all being made ugly if it’s necessary, but here?” she asked. Don’t they know?… Court interpreters are always the sharpest looking people in the courtroom!”

Despite it all, we ate and drank and celebrated. Even if you’re on a network show for a few seconds, it’s a big thing. Sophia started relaxing — that is until her mother called.

Sophia’s Mom: “They certainly didn’t do you any favors by how they made you look. And you were only on a few seconds?! Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”

Sophia: “What’s the difference?”

Sophia’s Mom: “Then I wouldn’t have told all my friends to watch it!”

I’m not sure what is worse for a woman — working in Hollywood or talking with her mother!

A Year Ago in Citizen of the Month: Five is a Crowd

The Devil Wears Converse

July 6, 2006 / / 34 Comments

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Since I’m still in New York for the rest of the week, I decided to go into Manhattan for a job interview with Anna Wintour at Vogue Magazine.

Anna:  “So, Neil, how much experience do you have in the fashion industry?”

Neil:  “None. ”

Anna:  “None?”

Neil:  “Well, I did write two pieces about fashion.”

Anna:  “At which publication?”

Neil:  “It was on my blog.” 

Anna:  “I see.  Your blog.  And what were these “pieces” about?”

Neil:  “One of them was to call for a boycott of the fashion industry and the other was about some ridiculous jeans that revealed male pubic hair.”

Anna:  “And this is your ONLY experience with the fashion industry?”

Neil:  “Well, I read La Coquette.  I think she does something with fashion.  And a lot of female bloggers write about shoes, so I know a little something.  And Sophia has dragged me to a lot of stores where I’m bored out of mind.  Even Fictional Rockstar recently wondered on her blog, “Why do women torture men like that?”

Anna:  “Do you know who Jimmy Choo is?”

Neil:  “Of course.  Didn’t he played Bruce Lee’s adversary in “Five Fingers of Death?””

Anna Wintour sighs.

Anna:  “Do you usually come to an interview wearing torn jeans and a tee shirt that reads “I almost f***ked in a rowboat?””

Neil:  “I try to have my own style.”

Anna:  “And exactly why do you want to work for Vogue Magazine?”

My Penis interrupted me before I could answer.

Penis:  “Simple.  Have you seen the hot women who work here?”

Neil:  “Please, Penis, I’m in the middle of an interview.”

Penis:  “Neil, I just want to make sure that I’ll be comfortable working here.  Aren’t we a partnership?”

Neil:  “OK, Penis, go ahead.”

Penis:  “Ms. Wintour, I notice that most of the editorial staff  consists of women who are size 2 and under.  Do you have any women employees with a little more meat on them, maybe in the accounting department?  I prefer f***ing women with at least some tits and ass.”

Neil:  “Penis, can you act professional for once in your life?”

Anna:  “I think this interview is over.  How in the world did you ever think that Vogue would hire you as a fashion writer?”

Neil:  “Well, I saw this movie last night called “The Devil Wore Prada,” about a “serious journalist” young woman with stringy unwashed hair (but was a goddess after a fashion makeover) who got a job with a fashion magazine simply by walking in and mocking the the industry to the editor-in-chief’s face.  And this hard-to-believe movie was based on a hard-to-stay-awake-while-reading bestselling book that women just loved to read.  And the bestseller was based on the ungrateful writer’s own experience.  So, I figured, what do I have to lose?”

Anna:  “If I hire you, do you promise to write a roman a clef based on your negative experiences working here while portraying me as a crazed monster?”

Neil:  “Absolutely.”

Anna:  “You’re hired!”

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