Geoff Wolinetz Is Too Late

Some More Things

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 01:13:00 +0000

There's been some big goings on.

First things first, we're finally paying some attention to our neglected baby. Y.P.R.'s been up and running with some seriously amazing material. This is why you should be reading that instead of this.

But while you're here, please also make note of my interview with Mediaite's Rachel Sklar over at Bundle.com. She's a fascinating lady and a heck a nice person as well.

Finally, you know what's underrated? Judge Judy.

You Know What's Underrated?

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 19:03:00 +0000

Do you like Mac? Do you like me? Well, then, you're in for a treat.

Check out the Underrated book site, and read all about the underrated movie, Mac and Me, an hilarious romp featuring a young man in a wheelchair and a Mysterious Alien Creature (MAC).

Where Has My Boner Gone?

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 16:03:00 +0000

Andrew Koenig, aka "Boner" from Growing Pains, is missing:

Andrew Koenig, 41, who starred as Boner on the late 80s sitcom Growing Pains, was set to arrive in Los Angeles on Feb. 14 after a trip to Canada, according to the Vancouver Police Department.

--snip--

Andrew still hasn't returned to his Venice, Calif., residence. His father says there wasn't a specific situation that would've prompted his disappearance.

Two things:

1) Boner's dad is Chekhov from Star Trek? That blew my mind in something like 7 different ways.

2) Does anyone else find it strange that an early primetime show from the 1980s/90s had a supporting character named "Boner" on it?

Other People's Money

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 14:56:00 +0000

I interviewed Mike Sha, founder of Wikinvest, for Bundle.com. Check it out here. Mike had this idea that ordinary people could inform their own investment ideas, and it's paying off pretty big.

Be-fan Us

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 14:52:00 +0000

You should become a fan of Y.P.R. on Facebook.

If you do, you'll learn a whole lot about us. If this frightens you, good. Embrace the fear. It's makes you feel alive! ALIVE!

Something That I Failed to Mention

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 22:02:00 +0000

I interviewed Will Leitch for Bundle, which is a fantastic new website to which I'm contributing.

Here's the interview. Enjoy.

Luke and Laura

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 18:07:00 +0000

There's an old episode of Family Feud on now, and it's a "celebrity" edition starring the female stars of General Hospital and All My Children (from like 1982 or something). This got me thinking about how, in that time frame, the idea that Luke and Laura were going to get married on General Hospital was a big deal outside of the show. They were on the cover of People magazine (image courtesy People). 20 million people watched. That's how big soap operas were as recently as the early 1980s.

Is there anything that could happen on a soap opera now, short of someone dying on the set or something, that would hit the pop culture radar? Anything at all? I can't think of a single thing. Admittedly, I know little about soap operas, but a cursory search of popular magazine covers over the last decade revealed nothing about soap operas.

It just struck me as interesting how our morning/afternoon TV tastes have shifted. When I was a kid, in the morning, you watched game shows. In the afternoon, there were soap operas. Now, in the morning, there's talk shows. And in the afternoon, there's courtroom shows (and some soap operas).

I don't know how to end this post, except to say that game shows are awesome.

Why Life In 2010 Sucks

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 14:23:00 +0000

When I was in elementary school, we had two distinct February holidays: Lincoln's Birthday (celebrated on or around February 12) and Washington's Birthday (celebrated on or around February 22*). This meant that we had two four-day weeks back to back. It was freaking awesome.

*So, Washington was actually born on February 11, but he was born before we adopted our current calendar, so his birthday got adjusted 11 days when we move to the Gregorian calendar. Don't say that I never taught you anything.

Somewhere along the line, someone concerned with productivity, efficiency or some other nonsense decided that we were having too many days off in February and merged the two holidays into President's Day.* That's total crap. What's the real harm in having an additional, free day off? Is that additional 9 hours of work (6 hours at the Post Office, DMV or other governmental service) really hitting the bottom line that hard?

*By the way, we all know this should be Presidents' Day, right? I'm just saying

Especially in a week like this, where there's tons of snow on the ground here, and we could all go out and enjoy it.

On Being Steve Winwood

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 18:43:00 +0000

Let's play this like a Choose Your Own Adventure book ...

You're Steve Winwood, an aging rock star with a solid career whose best moments are between 20 and 40 years in the past. You hear that The Who have been offered the halftime gig at the Super Bowl. You're happy for them, but also seething silently, because you think you're just as talented and British as they are.

You're at home, eating Cheetos off of your gut, watching Dr. Who on DVD and drinking Miller Genuine Draft straight from the can when the phone rings. You hesitate before answering it, thinking it may be your creditors, but you take the chance and pick up the receiver.

"Hello?" you say, somewhat hesitantly, but also trying to take these advice of your therapist. Be more positive!

"Steve Winwood?"

"Speaking."

"Hey Steve, this is Big Powerful Exec at CBS. How's it going?"

"Pretty good. This isn't about my cable bill, is it? Because I sent the check yesterday ..."

"No, no, calling about the Super Bowl telecast. We'd like you to play. Are you available?"

"Well, I'd have to check my calendar, but I think we can do that."

"All right, great. Listen, I'm going to have my assistant call you back with all the details, and get you a ticket down to Miami and all that stuff."

Your eyes widen. "Miami! I haven't been there in years. I'm going to have to get a straw hat."

"OK, Steve. You'll be playing in the parking lot 60 minutes before kickoff. Don't forget the sheet music to 'Higher Love.'"

"You got it, boss."

You hang up the phone and your mind starts racing. You don't know whether you want to buy your straw hat or finish your Cheetos and Dr. Who DVDs first.

To go out and buy your straw hat, turn to page 19
To finish wathcing Dr. Who, turn to page 78

The Problem With Robots

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Wed, 13 Jan 2010 21:16:00 +0000

I'll tell you the problem with robots: they don't do anything that the 1950s promised they'd do, like simonize my car or learn Hebrew.

When I was in 7th grade, my Technology teacher (that's what they called Shop in my school) had a whole section devoted to robotics and lasers. During the robotics section, he brought out this short, stubby little robot (to answer your question, it didn't look like R2D2) thing that he could control with a limited selection of voice commands. You know, move forward, stop, bend over, etc. The thing didn't talk back or anything (if it had, it probably would have said something about this guy's decision to always wear a short sleeve button down shirt and white sneakers), but you could see that they were moving in a certain direction with this thing.

Ignore the fact that the school district spent thousands of dollars on this robot that could have saved an art program or something, if you can, and focus on the possibilities.

Remember Screech's robot Kevin on Saved by the Bell? That's exactly what I was expecting within would come from all this in the ensuing 5 years, 10 at the outside. By 1995, I expected to have the kind of robot that I was promised, though ideally my robot would have less sass than Kevin. I'm not looking for a moral compass, just someone to take care of all the little things that prevent me from developing my plans for an effective College Football playoff system.

Here are the seven things that I would expect from my robot:

1) No death threats/attempts

- Lets face it: even the least savvy of self-aware robots could beat the hell out of his/her owner if it got pissed off enough. I'm just looking for an easy-going robot to do my bidding. Frankly, if I were the cause of some Terminator-like robot uprising, I'd have a hard time explaining that to my wife.

2) A British accent

- I'm not sure if I'd want it to be more like Mr. Belvedere or Michael Caine, but either way, no robot should be without some sort of Cockney accent.

3) An unlimited supply of Starburst

- I don't know if the robot would have to go shopping or just be able to manufacture and package the confection somewhere on its person, but the fact remains that there's no reason that I shouldn't be able to have a Starburst when I want one.

4) 2+ years of apprenticeship under a chef who specializes in northern Italian cuisine

- I'm getting tired of eating olives out of the jar and pop tarts.

5) More than a passing interest in the New York Jets

- You know, because someone has to.

6) Access to a good dentist

- Even though my robot's health care needs will be significantly different from my own (needing oil vs. water, no teeth to brush, no masturbating, etc.), I'd like him to at least be aware that the human body needs significant upkeep, and thus, build up a stable of healthcare professionals on which I can rely. Regular visits to the dentist prove effective in dealing with plaque build-up and gingivitis.

7) Intimate knowledge of the blueprints for the Federal Reserve Building in Lower Manhattan

- No reason.

I don't know what it is. Maybe I grew up in the golden age of robotics or something. Maybe I was unfairly promised things that haven't been delivered. I don't know; I'm not a scientist. All I know is that I don't have a robot in my home that does all of the menial tasks that I'm too lazy or stupid to do for myself.

Gopnik on Jets

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 20:54:00 +0000

Adam Gopnik has been enlisted by the New Yorker to write about everyone's beloved sad-sacks, the New York Jets, as they careen through this year's NFL playoffs. My favorite part:

... those of us who were grimly certain that they were going to lose that first playoff game, simply because the Jets are the Jets, remain, after their glorious Cincinnati victory, grimly certain that they will lose the next one. And yet we still have hope. Being a Jet fan recalls the Calvinist view of predestination, which this blogger's kid is studying in school: just because you know something is sure to happen doesn't mean you can't care.

Has one paragraph ever so accurately captured a fan base's sad attachment to their team? Jets' fans (myself included) are truly some of the most beaten human beings in the entire world. When Cincinnati scored that TD to make it 21-14, I immediately told my wife that the announcer had cursed them, simply because he'd said that the Jets could put away the game if they scored points on the 3-and-out drive that they'd had just prior to the Cincy TD. This is the kind of insanity that I buy into: the announcer, sitting in a booth high above the field, has some sort of magic ability to alter the game's outcome with his words. Intellectually, I know this is both the law of averages and selective memory at work. Instinctively, I can't help but feel that the fucking guy just jinxed my team.

I've loved the New York Jets for a long time. My dad and I used to sit in two rows from the top in the end zone to watch them lose 9-6 the Colts. And countless disappointment after countless disappointment, I can't help but think that something has to go right. But I also can't help but think that all the things going right are setting me up for something bigger to go horribly wrong.

Two things about Adam Gopnik:

1) His book, "Angels and Ages" is one of the best books that I've read some of (I can't find the damn thing in my stacks, otherwise I'd finish it) in some time. I say this having barely understood a word of it.

2) He's speaking at the 92nd St. Y with Malcolm Gladwell on Feb. 16.

An Open Letter To NFLShop.com

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 20:31:00 +0000

Hello,

I came onto your site today to purchase my infant daughter a New York Jets jersey to wear while we watch them lose this weekend. I was more than a little surprised to find that the only option for purchase was a Brett Favre jersey. Considering that a) he's not on the team anymore and b) he nearly single-handedly destroyed our season last year, it's a little unlikely that I (or any like-minded Jets fan) would purchase such apparel.

I'm wondering if you will have something else available in the near future, since I'm looking forward to bonding with her, as we share the lifelong pain of being a Jets fan

Please let me know.

Best,
Geoff Wolinetz

"Now Batting For Pedro Borbon, Manny Mota ..."

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 19:28:00 +0000

I was watching Airplane the other night, and for the first time in the many, many times that I've seen the film, I asked myself, "Kyle (that's what I call myself), did Manny Mota ever actually bat for Pedro Borbon in a live game or did the writers of the movie just pick a pitcher at random and have the formar all-time leader in pinch hits bat for him in the scenario meant to test the echo in Ted Stryker's head as a goof?"

The first step was determining if the two had ever even played on the same team. I popped on to Baseball Reference and looked up the careers of both Borbon and Mota.

Borbon played 12 years in the majors, the vast majority of these seasons came with the Cincinnati Reds. His last season was the year that Airplane was released (1980).

Manny Mota played 21 seasons, his last 11 with the Los Angeles Dodgers. His career ended in 1982.

So, no, Manny Mota never pinch hit for Pedro Borbon.

But since this didn't take even close to as long as I thought it would, and I'm in the business of extreme procrastination, I went ahead and checked if Manny Mota has ever batted against Pedro Borbon. This seemed significantly more likely, as both of these players played almost their entire careers in the National League.

Once again, thanks to our good friends at Baseball Reference, we're able to determine that Mota did hit against Borbon. In 14 plate appearances, Mota singled 3 times off of Borbon, drove in one run and struck out twice. Man, this is bull. I thought I'd at least be able to look up a home run that Mota hit against Borbon or something. Let's go to Retrosheet and find out when Mota drove in that run.

Actually, Baseball Reference has this information also. It was in the second game of a doubleheader on June 23, 1973. With the Dodgers already up 4-1 in the bottom of the 7th, Mota hit a single to center and knocked in Davey Lopes. Tommy John went the distance and got the win, 3-hitting the Reds. Here's the full scoreboard from that game (this appears courtesy of Retrosheet):

CIN N 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 - 1 3 0
LA N 0 0 0 0 1 3 1 0 x - 5 8 0

Well, this was a complete waste of time (in a bad way). If this demonstrates anything, it's that the InterWeb has turned what could have been a colossal time-waster into a mere distraction.

Life Changing Moments

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 13:34:00 +0000

Before I went to college, I saw a lot of movies. Tons. I saw just about everything that came out in the theater. Genre didn't really matter. As long as I had popcorn and moving pictures in front of me, I was good. And I didn't really spend a whole lot of time questioning whether these movies were good or bad; I just loved the experience of going.* Why not, right? Frankly, there was just not a whole lot else to do where I grew up with the people that I hung out with. It was either go to the movies or watch Mystery Science Theater 3000 in someone's basement.**

*This is a very 1950s way of looking at things: marveling at the wonder of them, instead of seeing them for what they are. I'm not apologizing for this. I wish I still had it.

**I was tooling around You Tube the other day and I stumbled across a clip from one of my favorite episodes, Mitchell, starring Joe Don Baker and Merlin Olsen. It also happens to be Joel Hodgson's last episode. I don't know why I brought this up.

Until I saw Speed.

It's not really just that Speed is a bad movie (which it is)*. It is a very bad movie that somehow launched Sandra Bullock's career (that may, in itself, explain her career). It's an outright insult to anyone with even a shred of intelligence. Everyone watching this movie should have walked out of the theater and demanded their money back.

*My high school yearbook actually has an inscription from someone saying that they disagreed with me about Speed and that they thought the movie was very suspenseful. I can only assume that person's yearbook has a profanity-laced tirade about how stupid they are.

It starts out OK. Disillusioned cop (played by Dennis Hopper of all people) that's forced to retire goes loco and wants to exact his revenge by killing lots of people. Fine. That's at least the beginning of a plot that I can get behind. But from there, it's all ridiculous. City bus driver knows the name of someone trying to catch the bus and actually stops to let them on. Bomb attached to bus will explode if speed dips below a certain level. Neurotic, crazy, stereotypes on bus make escape difficult. Woman that caught bus creates a sense of brotherhood among them. Snappy one-liners exchanged. Keanu Reeves involved.

It's just stupid insult after stupid insult. I take the bus every single day. Nothing happens. In fact, the only people even talking on the bus are the people on their cellphone that think the bus is their living room.

And the moment that broke my brain was when they get on a highway to keep the speed of the bus at the appropriate level, never mind that the thing is a 1980s-era bus that guzzles gas like my little cousins eat Cheerios and should have run out miles ago, and no one realizes that the highway HASN'T BEEN FINISHED YET. No one among the people that live in the area could think to mention that the highway on which their careening bus was about to go hadn't yet been finished.

That's the point that I stood up and screamed, "Oh, come on!"

So the bus drives off of the unfinished bit of the highway (which also just happens to form a ramp), lands and keeps going. Later on, they rig the surveillance camera on the bus in an infinite loop, gradually move the people off of the bus before Dennis Hopper figures it out, and then Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock open the emergency exit on the bottom of the bus, line up a small wooden board on rollers beneath it at 50 miles per hour, then get on it to slide themselves off the bus, which explodes in the background as they roll to safety. There are no words.

Forget realistic. This doesn't even work in a fantasy. Some monkey on PCP must have written this film. It just forced me to realize that Hollywood will just take any piece of garbage, smear it on a cracker and tell me it's goose liver pate. Not only that, they expect me to smile and hold my nose while I eat it, then make yummy sounds when I'm done. After Speed, I just couldn't do it anymore.

And now, I can't watch any movie the same way. Every action movie is a ridiculous farce, every drama is a sappy mess and every comedy is an unfunny train wreck. I haven't truly enjoyed a movie the same way in 15 years. Oh, sure, I've enjoyed movies, but they just aren't an essential activity for me anymore, because I just don't buy in with the same enthusiasm.

And this, friends, is how Sandra Bullock ruined my life.

Regarding Facebook

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 14:01:00 +0000

This article runs down the 12 most annoying Facebook users. You know someone who falls into every category. It got me to thinking about the whole Facebook thing today.

I really enjoy catching up with people that I haven't seen (or thought about, frankly) in 10 or 15 years, but what I find most difficult is reconciling the reality of who they are now with the image of how I remember them. One of my really close friends was one of the biggest goofballs that I knew. We had some really crazy ridiculous times together, but I've spoken to him regularly for last 15 years. I watched him transform from the guy that hit on strippers to married man to homeowner to father of two, so it's not shocking to me. Don't get me wrong: the idea that the guy that used to show off his dangle to people that didn't even ask has two kids hurts my head on several levels, but it's not shocking.

But when the guy that used to pick his nose and flick it at people friends me on Facebook, and I look at his profile and he's a married doctor, it's just a little bit shocking to me because I didn't see the evolution of his persona (or worse, he never evolved and is still flicking boogers at people, only now he also removes spleens).

And every time that I connect with someone, I go through this exercise and see who people have become and I'm never any less shocked, in the same way that my dog is never any less happy to see me when I walk in the door, whether I've been gone two minutes or two months. The guy that masturbated in the back of English class and then threw the er, "result" into the curly hair of the girl who sat in front of him is now a teacher. The girl that blew a guy in the stairwell is now a VP at Goldman Sachs (which I assume is how she got to be a VP in the first place, I'm sure the men that work there also have to suck someone off to get promoted). These are both true descriptions of people that I've known in the past.

I suspect that everyone who hasn't talked to me in 15 years that gives me a "poke" is thinking the same things:

"Someone actually married that schmuck?"
"He's been able to hold down a job?"
"Does he really still have the same haircut?"*

*The answer to all three of these questions is yes. To be honest, I'm as surprised as anyone.

Sure, the sharing seems over the top to me, but hey, it's your life. Share as much or as little as you want. You should know that I probably don't care (if I cared, I probably would have tried harder to stay in touch when it wasn't so easy to do so), but that's more my problem than yours.

And if you want to be that guy or gal that announces that someone died literally moments after that person actually died, then put RIP after it, as if it's not completely disingenuous or it will keep you from going to Hell, more power to you. I can't stop you. I've probably hidden your status updates by now anyway, but whatever. Go to town.

I just have so much trouble reconciling two visions of people in my head: one as I knew them and one as they are today. It just sends my brain into this infinite loop of Finkel/Einhorn-ness.

William Safire Dead; Facebook Users Rejoice

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 19:08:00 +0000

William Safire is dead at 79. From the Times:

And from 1979 until earlier this month, he wrote "On Language," a New York Times Magazine column that explored written and oral trends, plumbed the origins and meanings of words and phrases, and drew a devoted following, including a stable of correspondents he called his Lexicographic Irregulars.

The columns, many collected in books, made him an unofficial arbiter of usage and one of the most widely read writers on language. It also tapped into the lighter side of the dour-looking Mr. Safire: a Pickwickian quibbler who gleefully pounced on gaffes, inexactitudes, neologisms, misnomers, solecisms and perversely peccant puns, like "the president’s populism" and "the first lady’s momulism," written during the Carter presidency.

I totally geek out to "On Language" every weekend, and it's just not going to be the same without Safire. And though "On Language" mostly devotes itself to usage (the recent "fail" column is a perfect example), it turned me into the kind of person that busies himself fighting a losing battle against poor grammar, spelling and punctuation in the Facebook status of every chump from Altoona to Albuquerque. And I'm definitely not apologizing for that. Memo to people on Facebook that can't be bothered to take six seconds and proofread their status: every one of your friends thinks that you're a moron, whether they admit it to your face or not.

And now, for fun, here's a link to one of the best Onion "News In Brief" blurbs ever: William Safire Orders Two Whoppers Junior.

Zooey Deschanel Off the Market; Day Of Mourning Declared In Wolinetz Household

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 14:48:00 +0000

Why didn't anyone tell me about this until it was too late to stop it from happening?:

Zooey Deschanel, 29, and Death Cab for Cutie singer Ben Gibbard, 33, tied the knot Saturday night near Seattle, her rep tells PEOPLE.

The couple got engaged last year when Gibbard presented Deschanel with a three-carat diamond and platinum Neil Lane ring, a source told PEOPLE at the time.

A couple of things:

1) I'm sorry, but I don't like the Postal Service record and I don't know why everyone else seems to like it.

2) If I'd known Ben Gibbard looked like such an insufferable douche, I would have sent him letters telling him to stop it (well, *more* letters).

Some Old Business

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 03:41:00 +0000

Now Henry Gibson is dead and this means that, aside from it being a very lonely Thanksgiving at Jo Anne Worley's* place this year, we have another dead celebrity on our hands. I'm sure when people look back on 2009, they're going to think of this as the year of the dead celebrity**. So I thought I'd take a look at who hasn't died this year, because it's late and I'm bored.

*Two things:
1) I find it unbelievable that Jo Anne Worley is 72 years old. This just seems impossible to me.

2) I went to her IMDb page twice to confirm her age and that had to double the amount of hits her page has gotten in the last year.

**This also begs the interesting question of where do you draw the line when discussing celebrity. I mean, Henry Gibson *was* something of a celebrity when Laugh-In was popular some 40 years ago (and by the way, he looked 73 then, so I don't know how he was 73 now), but when your most famous role of the last 20 years was the creepy neighbor in The 'Burbs ... sorry, you're not a celebrity anymore. We need a new word for these types of people.

OK, this is a partial list:

Hugh Downs (88)
It's not just that Hugh Downs is old, becuase yeah, he's old. He was the announcer on The Jack Paar Show (as in the guy who preceded Johnny Carson) and he played himself on Car 54, Where Are You?. I mean, come on. It's hard to get older than that. But good for Hugh Downs. He provided his own voice on an episode of Family Guy. And he's not dead.

John Forsythe (91)
I'll be perfectly honest: I couldn't pick this dude out of a lineup. But he was the voice of Charlie on Charlie's Angels, and when he was born, the Great War hadn't yet ended. That right there is some old business.

Ernest Borgnine (92)
So, not only is Ernest Borgnine not dead, the dude is still acting. He's got roles in SIX films that haven't yet been released, but are scheduled to come out through 2010. How is this possible? Is he bionic? It gets better: Ernest Borgnine was on the 28th Annual Oscar telecast. The 28th. In case you were sleeping, this year they had the 81st. This man is very, very old.

Gloria Stuart (99)
OK, I saved the best for last. The old woman in the movie Titanic was not only alive when the actual Titanic sank (she was almost 2), SHE'S STILL ALIVE NOW! I'm absolutely stunned. First of all, I can't be the only one who thinks that 99 seems young for her. Second, she appeared in some silent movies, and they weren't silent because they wanted to be. They were silent because they couldn't not be silent.

So there you go. That's four celebrities that aren't dead, and are also very, very old. Balance restored.

You're welcome.

Pain Don't Hurt: Why Road House Rules

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 17:25:00 +0000

Generally speaking, women that are my age remember Patrick Swayze for his role in Dirty Dancing. Men that are my age remember him for his role in Point Break. People who like maudlin, sentimental crap remember him for his role in Ghost.

Really though, if there's one thing that he should be remembered for, it's Road House. On the Joe Posnanski scale of movie expectation, this movie is a 3. I expected a 0 star movie, but Road House is friggin' awesome, so I got a 3 star movie.

And since Mr. Swayze has now left this mortal coil*, I figured this would be a good time to explain why Road House should be remembered as his magnum opus.

*I want to make sure that everyone clicks through, if only to read the headline that Peter Travers put at the top of that blog post. "Remembering Patrick Swayze: Muscular Poetry in Motion." That's the title. Muscular Poetry in Motion. Now, Peter Travers has been writing professional for longer than I've been writing at all, so there's that. But, really? Muscular Poetry in Motion? Come on, man.

OK, here we go. Five awesome things about Road House:

1) The ripping his throat out scene
- OK, so let's lay out some of the plot here: Swayze plays Dalton: a philosophy doctoral candidate, an avid reader, the best bouncer around because he keeps his cool and uses force only when necessary. But don't fuck with the guy. When Brad Wesley's henchman come and try to screw with the old guy that rents his barn to Dalton, Dalton goes all Jeet Kun Do on them.

So when Sam Elliott meets his maker, Dalton loses it completely and while fighting with the guy near the lake, he rips his throat out and leaves him for dead face down in the shallow water just as Kelly Lynch drives up. It's one of the more improbable scenes in the movie, because I'm not a physician or vigilante, but I'm pretty sure ripping someone's throat out can't be done by grabbing the side of their neck and pulling.

Anyway, I'm glad I mentioned Kelly Lynch ...

2) Kelly Lynch
-She ain't the world's greatest actress, but she absolutely melts the screen in this one. In fact, she's the main reason that I can't watch this movie on AMC. And I'll leave it at that.

3) Swayze's tai chi scene
-So, I assume this scene is supposed to underscore that Dalton is a very cool guy because he's very philosopical and all that. Great. Why couldn't they just take 30 seconds and pan over a copy of Walden on his nightstand or something? I didn't need shirtless Swayze making me feel inadequate. If he reads philosophy and poetry and kicks ass and has dynomite areolas, what the hell is my wife supposed to see in me?

4) The fat guy
-I don't know where they found this guy or why he hasn't gotten more work, but this guy is the most underrated part of the film. He's absolutely, hands down the worst henchman ever. You'd think with all that weight behind him, he'd be at least marginally effective in fighting with people. But this guy gets his ass kicked non-stop throughout the entire movie and keeps coming back for more. I don't know what Brad Wesley is paying him to work for him, but I'll double it.

The fat guy is also the only thing in the movie that the director got wrong. The fat guy should have died in this movie, but he was allowed to run away and save his life. This is bullshit. He's such a dick in this movie. This fat bastard should have bit it at the end.

5) Sam Elliott
-Sam Elliott is badass in The Big Lebowski. He's badass in Tombstone. And he's badass in this.

And that's just five reasons that Road House rules. I didn't even get into Kelly Lynch's dad who owns the store that Wesley's men trash, Jeff Healey(!) as the band leader at the bar, and the script.

RIP, Dalton. Pain don't hurt.

American Religious Right To Darwin Movie: Evolve This!

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 14:12:00 +0000

I love reading stuff like this:

Creation, starring Paul Bettany, details Darwin's "struggle between faith and reason" as he wrote On The Origin of Species. It depicts him as a man who loses faith in God following the death of his beloved 10-year-old daughter, Annie.

--snip--
Movieguide.org, an influential site which reviews films from a Christian perspective, described Darwin as the father of eugenics and denounced him as "a racist, a bigot and an 1800s naturalist whose legacy is mass murder". His "half-baked theory" directly influenced Adolf Hitler and led to "atrocities, crimes against humanity, cloning and genetic engineering", the site stated.

Hey, don't get me wrong. I'm anti-Hitler also. Big, big Hitler hater over here. I don't want to get into a whole pissing contest about religion, but there's a big difference between survival of the fittest and eugenics. Just like there's a big difference between funny and Glenn Beck. One is a neutral idea; the other is a complete perversion of that idea.

You don't want to believe in evolution? Fine. Don't. This is a free country. I'm not stopping you. Certainly, though, we can all agree that a movie can be worth watching, whether you agree with it or not. And certainly it's worth buying and distributing (particularly now, since a big deal is being made of it. Money is something the Church can definitely understand), so that people who want to watch it can and make their own decision from there. This is exactly my thought process when every Michael Bay movie is been released.

If we can't agree to hate Michael Bay's crappy movies, what can we agree on?

If Only She'd Had More Time ...

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 21:24:00 +0000

The World's Oldest Person^tm has passed away at the tender age of 115. From the Times:

Although she liked her bacon crispy and her chicken fried, she never drank, smoked or fooled around, Gertrude Baines once said, describing a life that lasted an astonishing 115 years and earned her the title of oldest person on the planet.

--snip--
In her final years, she passed her days watching her favorite TV program, "The Jerry Springer Show," and consuming her favorite foods: bacon, fried chicken and ice cream. She complained often, however, that the bacon served to her was too soft.

Two things:

1) Well, I guess we finally know who watches Jerry Springer. He's captured that all important 110+ demographic that advertisers covet.

2) It's always sad when someone dies, but people we're actually posting comments to this item on Facebook talking about what a tragedy it is that she died. I mean, really? The woman was 115 years old, for crying out loud. How much longer did you want her to go?

I'm not trying to be insensitive here, but dear lord. Newsflash: people die. It happens. It sucks, particularly when you're close with them, but it happens. When they die at 5, 10, 20 years old, it's really sad. When someone else kills them, it's really sad. When they live through the Spanish-American War, outlive all their relatives and die 107 years later, it's not as sad.

Remembering ... (Again)

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 13:38:00 +0000

On September 10, 2001, I went to the Yankees game. But the weather didn't cooperate and the game wound up being rained out. We got soaked, and while we were waiting, I ran into an ex-girlfriend at the Stadium. We had what I would consider a polite conversation that was full of subtext, the subtext being that she's a dirty, disgusting whore and I'll hate her for the rest of my life.

After they officially canceled the game, which they probably could have done hours before and saved me the hassle of bumping into and having to speak to a dirty, disgusting whore, we took the train home and I burned inside. All I was expecting to do that night was enjoy myself at a baseball game, and instead ... well, I had to talk to a whore. And a dirty, disgusting one at that.

We get home and I'm still pissed off. I go to sleep and I'm still pissed off. I wake up the next morning, and wouldn't you know, I'm STILL pissed off. It's not often that something has such a profound effect on me, but this was a tumultuous* time in my life, and it didn't take much to knock me off of my game. As opposed to now, when I get knocked off my game by the fact that Lee jeans actually uses a Cars song to try to sell their product.

*Does that word really have four U's in it?

But all of the sudden, around 8:48 AM, I wasn't pissed off anymore. All of the sudden, it didn't seem to matter that I'd bumped into a dirty, disgusting whore at the ballgame the night before. All of the sudden, nothing seemed to matter at all.

It's one of the reasons the drinking became heavier, and that's the absolute reason that the sobriety was suggested. And frankly, it's the reason that I am who I am today: a kind of pudgy, mostly happy jerk.

And to those who lost their lives, we still miss you and we still remember you.

Time To Start The Bloggin' Again

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 21:50:00 +0000

I've loaded about ten posts into the system here and each one is packed with some notes that will eventually become full-fledged posts. The tone of these posts is yet to be determined, but you can be certain that they will be a) poorly written and b) not even a little funny.

Among the topics to be discussed:

Conversations at the diner

On Being a Dad

the movie Speed and why I haven't 3watched a movie the same way since I saw it

Joe DiMaggio

There will be door prizes.

Testing ...

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 21:29:00 +0000

I'm trying out a new connection between the blog here and also the Facebook and the Twitter. I'm going to try (again) to ramp up the blog posting, and this will more easily and seamlessly allow me to do so on all of my social networking situations.

Word.

Getting The Blog Back On Track?

noreply@blogger.com (G.Wo) — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 18:23:00 +0000

Who knows? The good news is that tons of ideas have been popping into my head lately: blog posts, essays, books, movies. The bad news is that I haven't written a single thing that I'm not embarrassed to show people. I remain undaunted.

Yankee Pot Roast is up and running again, after a brief hiatus. This is good news for all the people out there that love to read, but don't actually know how. Everyone else will have to continue to read The Onion.

I'm still convinced that Emily Deschanel is attractive, but my wife disagrees.

Speaking of the Deschanel sisters, I picked up the She & Him album, but I can't decide whether I like it or not.

My dog got a haircut and I don't like it.

Eh.