HinesSight

Tell DirecTV, "2015 is the year to carry the Pac-12 Networks!"

With August having rolled around, it's time for me to start getting irritated again at DirecTV for not having reached a deal to carry the Pac-12 Networks. 

(This is my 2014 rant, which includes links to my previous rants.)

There's more hope this year than in the past.

The president of the Pac-12 Networks said that he is hopeful a deal can be worked out with DirecTV, now that it has been bought by AT&T. And a statement on the Pac-12 Networks web site raised my football spirits a bit:

We know that DirecTV subscribers have been frustrated not having access to Pac-12 Networks. Our biggest partner, AT&T, recently acquired DirecTV and we are working hard on strengthening and expanding our partnership to include carriage of Pac-12 Networks on DirecTV. With football season quickly approaching, we want to make sure Pac-12 Networks are available to fans on DirecTV in time for our opening games on September 3. While we have proven to be the most reliable link between our teams and our fans, we will not be satisfied until we have complete distribution for our fans.

OK. But I still wanted to send a message to DirecTV. If you're a DirecTV subscriber who wants to be able to get the Pac-12 Networks for a few cents a day, I encourage you to email DirecTV also. 

Here's my message:

So, in September 2015 am I going to again curse the day I signed up for DirecTV, as I have the previous years when football season starts and I can't watch all of the Oregon Ducks and OSU Beavers games?

I'm hoping that since you're now part of AT&T, the senseless corporate "pissing match" you've been engaged in with the Pac-12 Networks will come to an end.

You're losing more satisfied customers the longer football fans aren't able to watch ALL of the Pac-12 games. I realize that DirecTV says to its subscribers, "You'll be able to watch the important games, since they'll be shown on ESPN, Fox, etc."

Well, with the Oregon Ducks in position to vie for a national championship again, ALL of the team's games are important. I don't appreciate DirecTV telling me which Oregon games I should want to watch.

Yes, that includes Eastern Washington on September 5 -- less than a month away. If you don't reach a deal with the Pac-12 Networks this year, I'll be cursing you again, big time!

Photos of the oh-so-fun 2015 Oregon Country Fair

Like ex-hippie swallows returning annually to their tie-dyed nesting place, Laurel and I flew down I-5 from Salem to Veneta yesterday -- Oregon Country Fair time!

Even though marijuana became legal in Oregon on July 1, this didn't make any difference to the fair's ambience. Sure, per usual we smelled a few whiffs of pot here and there. But I didn't see any open marijuana use, in line with a story in the Eugene Register-Guard.

The Oregon Country Fair is wonderfully family-friendly. I can hardly wait to take my eight year old granddaughter to it. Though the fair is crowded, people are universally polite, patient, welcoming, and helpful.

(click a photo to enlarge)

When we arrived, advance tickets in hand, there was a long line at the "Will Call" booth. No problem. Everybody flowed with the temporary lack of flow.

We usually start out our visit to the fair with lunch at the Govinda's booth near the main entrance. Great vegetarian Indian food. We had a pleasant chat with this guy while standing in line. A first time visitor to the fair from Portland, he definitely knew how to dress for the occasion.

While eating our food, some "senior citizen" stilt walkers came by. I thought, This is a preview of Kim Kardashian in her later years. 

Congratulations to the bride!

Some of the life-forms at the fair appeared unacquainted with modern technology. By the way, I took these photos with my new point-and-shoot pocket camera, a Panasonic Lumix DMC-ZS50. I had a great time with it. Loved the 30x optical zoom.

The fair offers up terrific shopping at beautiful tree-shaded booths. Here's Laurel pondering some earrings. 

This looked like a great way to get around the fair. Now I just need to find a red wagon big enough for me, and someone strong enough to pull it.

Laurel blended in marvelously with some clothing booths.

Surprises abound along the winding paths. I was pleased to come across a bellydancer and her musical accompanist. 

I was struck by her beautiful, um, hands. 

This must mean... a parade is coming!

Yes, indeed'y. Visions in pink. 

Including a hard-hat worker.

It's difficult to imagine a more pleasant setting for a fair. It's really hard for me to think of going to the traditional asphalt-filled Oregon State Fair after enjoying the Oregon Country Fair. Just one word different in the names; a world of difference in the vibes. 

In addition to the rooted trees, we saw some walking vegetation at the fair.

Looking up is enjoyable at the leafy fair.

Laurel in a booth with late afternoon dappled light.


Consumed with a craving for berry crepes with whipped cream, we found ourselves in line behind a guy wearing creative colorful headgear. 


We ate our crepes while watching a musical group do their thing under a big bright tent.

The band was danceable. And people danced. Enthusiastically!


Like I said... enthusiastically. These two were more into Grateful Dead-style dancing. Not that I know what I'm talking about, having never been to a Grateful Dead concert. 


A "hardwood" dance floor has been added to the fair. Great decision. Bare feet or socks only. This couple had an engaging style. Laurel and I got out on the floor for one dance, then the band stopped playing. Boo-hoo! We wanted more!


Then Laurel grabbed a hoop from a Flow area (also with live music). She did damn well, after many years of hoop-absence.

From a far distance, as if through a long tunnel, I seemed to hear her say, "You should try it!" I demurred. To me hooping is like belly dancing: yeah, men can do it, but women look so much better doing it, men should be the admirers rather than the doers. 


Artistic boats floating in a peaceful pond. So Oregon Country Fair'ish.


Leaving the fair, I saw some people pointing in the air. Yeow! A bunch of kites were really high. This seemed like an appropriate photo to end with.

It also shows how well my above-mentioned Lumix camera does with the 30x zoom. Even though I was holding the camera in my semi-shaky hands, the stabilization feature did quite well at maximum zoom, focus-wise.

Cirque du Soleil's Verakai makes me want to join the circus. At 66.

Last night my wife and I journeyed up I-5 to Portland's Memorial Coliseum, where we were hugely entertained and inspired by Verekai, a typically indescribable Cirque du Soleil production. 

Indescribable, because Cirque du Soleil productions touch me like no other show. 

Partly because they are live. Partly because they are creative beyond belief. Partly because the men and women on stage perform physical feats I wouldn't believe were possible, if I wasn't seeing them with my own two eyes.

Which, with Verekai, were attached to a body that was sitting in a front row seat on the floor of the auditorium, just a few feet away from the Cirque du Soleil stage. I'd splurged on the seats, wanting to get as up close and personal with the performers as possible.

My bottom line review: watching Verekai made me want to join the circus.

Not a real circus. The circus of Living Life Fully and Creatively. We all can do this.

Run away from our longstanding habits, anxieties, worries, inhibitions, and every other psychological hang-up that makes us afraid to express ourselves authentically, freely letting out what bubbles up from our creative springs within, and join the Circus of Life that offers up continuous performances, 24/7, at no charge, if we simply say Yes, Yes, Yes.

There was so much Yes on stage last night, I hesitate to speak about it. Too many words might dilute the feelings that still powerfully resonate with me after seeing Verekai. 

But, hey, I'll take the risk. After I share some videos that will do some wordless talking. 

 

This is the official trailer. Doesn't do justice to the live production, of course.

 

This, surprisingly, is a whole freaking 54 minute video of Verekai that someone took at a Fresno, California show. Better watch it before the copyright police notice it. Or maybe the Cirque du Soleil folks are going to allow it to be left up as a very-extended advertisement of sorts.

 

Maybe because I've played around with several kinds of swords and staffs in my martial arts/Tai Chi training, one of the performers I was most impressed with was a young baton woman, who I believe is world champion Arisa Tanaka.

Amazing! The small video in the bottom right shows her performing while the drummer in the live Verekai band does his thing. See below for a focus on Tanaka.

 

This is Tanaka performing at the 2012 World Twirling Championships. Hard to believe she got second place. I watched some of the video of the first place performer. I think Tanaka got cheated. 

Of course, with Cirque du Soleil the performers have gone beyond winning and losing -- though many, if not most, must be champion gymnasts, dancers, and other competitive athletes/artists.

It is about creativity, risk-taking, giving your all, expressing yourself to the utmost, embracing the moment, daring to show the world what only you can reveal.

We all can do that. Doesn't matter who we are or what we like to do. We can run away and join the Circus of Life, dazzling ourselves and others with the intensity of our performances.

Even if this be knitting, cooking, woodworking, golfing, playing cards, socializing, or whatever.

It isn't the what but the free-flowing style that allows us to break free of self-imposed bonds and be a star performer in our own personal production.

Trevor Noah will be a great replacement for Jon Stewart

My wife and I have been worrying about Jon Stewart's departure from The Daily Show, which comes on the heels of Steven Colbert's ending of The Colbert Report -- two stressful events for us.

So when I saw today that Trevor Noah has been named as Stewart's replacement, I wasn't sure whether this was good or bad news. 

We're not wild about The Nightly Show with Larry Wilmore, which is a big step down from The Colbert Report. Wilmore and company are OK, but not nearly as watchable as Colbert. Usually we skip it and just watch The Daily Show.

After watching several clips of Trevor Noah, it looks like The Daily Show will be in good hands.

I actually find his style and sense of humor more enjoyable than Jon Stewart's -- who often is annoyingly over-the-top with all of his laughing at his own jokes. We also don't like his sophomoric on-set pieces with Daily Show "correspondents."

Vox has a good selection of short Noah videos in "How Trevor Noah will transform the Daily Show, explained in 7 of his funniest clips."

The one below is, as the article says, the best way to get a feel for Noah. It's laugh out loud funny, along with some biting social commentary.

 

I also enjoyed another clip, which wonderfully encapsulates my own take on traffic lights from a pedestrian's perspective.

Yeah, they're suggestions, not commandments. If no cars are coming, I cross the street, even if a "Don't Walk" message is beaming at me. Laurel, my wife, is much more British in this regard. 

 

Sadly, I am forced to be my own Salem's Oscar "red carpet" paparazzi

Yesterday my wife and I decided to watch the Oscars at the Northern Lights theatre pub in south Salem, rather than, per usual, sit at home with each other in front of our TV.

Carlee Wright and Tom Rastrelli, who are Statesman Journal newspaper staff, did a great job organizing and hosting the event.

We enjoyed viewing the Oscars with a bunch of other people. During commercial breaks Carlee and Tom keep everybody entertained with Academy Award trivia questions and other stuff. And the really big TV screen was cool.

Laurel and I decided to dress up. In our own fashion. We didn't have anything far-out to wear, so Laurel went with a glittery top and I dragged my rarely-worn black sports coat, tie, and slacks out of a closet. 

Given how informal Salem is, I figured that this would get us at least a modicum of attention at the Northern Lights "red carpet." However, unfortunately our arrival at the theatre parking lot coincided with another couple's. 

And they had a lot more going for them, fashion-wise.

The woman had on some striking very-high-heeled shoes; the guy had on bluish shoes, along with matching dark glasses frames and a like-colored shirt. I was reduced to standing aside and snapping some photos with my iPhone.

However, when I checked the Statesman Journal photos of the event, I saw that a photo of me did indeed appear. Sadly, it was just of me from the side, admiring the guy's shoes.

(Note to the Statesman Journal legal department: I realize that your photos are copyrighted, but I feel like I should be able to share a screenshot of what my computer sees when it visits your public web site. A bit of Googling revealed that putting a screenshot on a blog is indeed generally "fair use.")

So I was reduced to handing my iPhone to my wife and having her take a photo of my unusually well-dressed self. When I looked at it, though, I felt like it didn't really capture the essence of my Red Carpet persona. 

After all, I'd spent a whole ten minutes getting ready for this event. I also had picked out a pair of designer dark glasses that my daughter had given me (she is the sales manager for a high-end LA-area eyewear company).

Given that my humility was already in serious question after I'd posted this tweet during the Northern Lights Oscar event, I decided that I might as well take some selfies of myself at home before my outfit went back into the closet.

A close-up shot did seem to capture a vague (OK, very vague) George Clooney'esque vibe. But I still wasn't satisfied.

It was only after I found another camera angle in front of one of the animal art pieces which grace our home that I felt like my Red Carpet vibe had been adequately captured. 

Sadly, this was long after, and nowhere near, Salem's Oscar event.

It did make me feel good, though, that the cow appeared to be paying rapt attention to me, all dressed-up in my black tie outfit. Now I have a vague (OK, very vague) sense of what it is like to walk the actual Academy Awards red carpet.
---------------

Update: in a comment, someone wondered where a photo of my wife, Laurel is. Well, she doesn't like to have her photo taken as much as I do, though she should -- since she is a lot more attractive than I am.

To make amends, here's a "joint selfie" photo I took recently when I was told the New York Post needed one of both of us for the story they did on hippie retirement communities (which was largely based on one of my blog posts). 

Not having a decent recent photo of the two of us, and being given a short deadline by the reporter, I took one inside our house that actually didn't turn out too bad. Mysterious looking, given our woodsy home interior, with light coming in from a hidden window. 

For the photo that was used, thankfully, see:
http://hinessight.blogs.com/hinessight/2014/11/new-york-post-features-us-in-story-about-hippie-retirement-communities.html

Why you should watch porn rather than Fifty Shades of Grey

Given the generally dismal reviews of Fifty Shades of Grey, the advice of these women to watch real porn instead makes a lot of sense.

Yeah, there's a 30 second commercial to sit through at first, but the Funny Or Die "5 Reasons" video is worth a half minute of your time. The last reason, support independent cinema, is compelling by itself.

5 Reasons Pornstars Hate 50 Shades Of Grey from Funny Or Die

We watch "The Interview" on Christmas Day. And like it!

It seemed fitting for us heathen unbelievers to finish watching "The Interview" Christmas evening.

Plates of Tofurkey perched before us on TV tables, memories of a completely non-religious day resting in our heads, pleased to perform our patriotic duty by silently screaming Hands off our right to enjoy tasteless sexist frat-boy humor, North Korea! via my brave commitment to free speech by allowing Google Play to charge $5.99 to our credit card so we could stream the movie and watch it at home.

(OK, experts are beginning to suspect that North Korea wasn't responsible for the hacking of Sony, but that undermines my pleasurable feeling of sticking it to that country's nasty leader, Kim Jong-Un, when we watched The Interview, so I choose to ignore that very real possibility.)

My wife, Laurel, and I enjoyed the film more than we thought we would. Mostly because our expectations were very low, given what we'd heard about the The Interview before seeing it. 

However, before trusting our judgment of the movie keep in mind that we also like the humor of South Park. Bathroom humor appeals to us. Along with dark, twisted, ironic joking around. That said, The Interview only had a few laugh-out-loud moments for us.

But since we rarely laugh out loud at any movie, this was a compliment to the makers of The Interview. 

We would have watched it at Salem Cinema, our local independent artsy theatre, but I'd already forked out the $5.99 to Google Play before learning it was going to be shown Christmas Day at Salem Cinema. It turned out that there was one big advantage to seeing the movie at home, though.

I could pause our Roku player when the dialogue became inaudible to me because my wife was engaging in her habit of rather loudly pointing out flaws in the logical structure of a movie's plot line.

"That couldn't really happen." "This doesn't make sense." "There's no way that could be real." "Nobody would actually do that."

Though I find this annoying, usually Laurel only makes comments like those a few times during a movie, so I've learned to let them pass through one husbandly ear and out the other, a skill all long-married men acquire.

Over the years I've done my best to clue my wife in to a basic fact about filmmaking, but obviously it hasn't sunk in. (Maybe because long-married women acquire the same skill their husbands do.)

"This is a freaking movie!" I'll say. "It's fictional, made-up, not real. If I wanted to only see things that could happen in real life, I'd just live my boring predictable life. Movies show us an alternative reality. They don't have to make sense!"

Sometimes I add some concluding zest to my response after Laurel interrupts a movie we're watching with one of her That doesn't look real comments. "One of these days Alice...one of these days, bam, zoom, straight to the moon."

The problem is, since she's a retired psychotherapist who did a lot of domestic abuse counseling, Laurel knows that my tough talk obviously is an empty threat. It didn't work for Ralph in The Honeymooners, and it doesn't work for me.

So I wasn't surprised when I had to keep hitting the pause button during our watching of The Interview. My wife had lots of observations about absurdities in the movie. What did surprise me was when I started to pause the movie to do the same thing.

Which gets to my main criticism of The Interview. If a film is meant to be farcical, go all out. If a film is meant to be serious, go all out. Clearly farcical dominates The Interview.

However, it also tries to make some semi-serious observations about the power of popular media in this country, the absurdity of treating an authoritarian dictator like a divine being, and such. And the whole notion of making a movie around the theme of assassinating a real person who is still alive... hey, that's pretty damn serious.

Thus it bothered me when the filmmakers didn't even try to make The Interview farcically believable. Great movie humor makes fun of a situation that appears real to the viewer. For example, Woody Allen's many films about male-female relationships, and his own fear of death.

I'm fine with craziness in a movie, but I like it to make some sort of twisted sense within the unreality of the film. Meaning, I like being taken away into an alternative reality, yet within that reality things should unfold in a fitting fashion.

This is why I paused streaming of The Interview myself during the farcical tiger scene. Sure, it was funny. Fart jokes hugely appeal to my still adolescent sense of humor. Butt/anal jokes are a related genre that reliably make me laugh. 

But that scene bothered my sense of minimally acceptable cinematic credibility.

The characters played by Seth Rogen and James Franco have just been ushered into a massive fortress palace of Kim Jong-Un. It's very well guarded. The guards are competent enough to do a good job of sniffing out a poisonous packet the Franco character has hidden in a pack of gum.

However, when the Rogen character slips out of a window of the palace to retrieve a replacement packet being dropped by an American drone, there's no security outside and no walls between the fortress and the countryside.

And when guards finally show up after the drone package (fortunately sized to barely fit up Rogen's butt, where he hides it) hits the tiger and kills it, they are blissfully unconcerned about how an unfit American TV show producer was able to slay a large tiger with his bare hands.

The scene would have been funnier with a bit more realism. As would the entire movie. Again, I feel like humor works best when the audience can identify with the joke. "Hey, I've been there and done that kind of thing myself!"

The Interview was so far-out, so farcical, so unbelievable, it was like watching a cartoon show. Except, a cartoon show like South Park seems like an absurdist reflection of the real world, whereas The Interview didn't feel at all that way to me.

But we liked it. Chinese viewers seem to be liking The Interview also. The Global Times, a nationalistic tabloid owned by the Communist Party-run People’s Daily, not so much.

Some in Hollywood argue that countries made fun of in their movies should have a sense of humor and not to react too strongly against the mockery. 

But what if the targets of assassin in the movies were the kings of Saudi Arabia or Thailand, or the state leaders of Indonesia or Singapore? 

The protests would be exceptionally strong, and the entertainment companies in the US might also end up in big troubles. 

No matter how the US society looks at North Korea and Kim Jong-un, Kim is still the leader of the country. The vicious mocking of Kim is only a result of senseless cultural arrogance.

Senseless cultural arrogance. Seems like the Global Times has the United States pegged pretty accurately. We do make funny tasteless movies, though. Got to give us credit for that.

Curses on DirecTV and Pac-12 Network after I miss Mariota's last home game

This being a halfway family-friendly blog, I'll let readers of this post mentally fill in their favorite profanities to shower on DirecTV and the Pac-12 Network after... 

Once #%!@#! again yesterday, I missed a U of O football game that I #%!@#! wanted to see because you two #%!@#! corporate idiots have persisted in your pissing match over DirecTV being able to show Pac-12 Network games, which has now gone on for three #%!@#! years!!!!!!!

That said, I readily admit that I too may be a #%!@#! idiot.

Because, as noted in this post, I renewed our DirecTV subscription last August even though I knew, or at least strongly suspected, it again wouldn't carry Pac-12 Network games this football season.

So I missed a couple of early University of Oregon football games that were only shown on the Pac-12 Network. That didn't bother me hugely (just considerably), because they were early season blowouts -- the reason the games weren't picked up by ESPN, Fox, or a channel I can actually watch on DirecTV.

But yesterday the Ducks played Colorado at home.

It almost certainly was quarterback Marcus Mariota's last home game, since he likely will turn pro after his junior season. Mariota is the leading Heisman Trophy candidate at the moment. He's a big part, no, the main part, of the reason why the Ducks are the #3 team in the country.

I love to watch him. I would have loved to see the emotional farewell he got at Autzen stadium after the Ducks coach pulled him out of the game after the first play of the fourth quarter. However, because of the #%!@#! DirecTV and Pac-12 Network contract dispute, I couldn't see the game.

All I could do was read Jason Quick's piece in the Oregonian today, "Marcus Mariota leaves Autzen Stadium, but not without a shower of love and a final word."

EUGENE — On a cold and wet November evening, in an otherwise forgettable game, a moment to remember was burned into Oregon football lore Saturday during the Ducks' 44-10 victory over Colorado.

Marcus Mariota, the greatest player in program history, joined the huddle on the Ducks' first drive of the fourth quarter, and in an orchestrated move was replaced by Jeff Lockie after one snap.

...Autzen Stadium erupted in an outpouring of love.

Inside the press box, where media is prohibited from cheering, a writer for a Eugene website stood up and applauded.

As play resumed, the crowd began chanting MAR-I-O-TA.

If there has ever been a more special farewell, long time athletic department officials can't remember it.

"It will be one of those things I will hold close to my heart for the rest of my life,'' Mariota said.

Hey, that's great, Marcus. I just wish I and other DirecTV subscribers could have had the opportunity to see your farewell ovation and be able to hold it close to our hearts also.

Instead, what's in my heart is this: f__k you DirecTV, and f__k you Pac-12 Network!!!!!

For three years you've been squabbling over the equivalent of corporate pennies while subscribers and fans get screwed over by not being able to see Pac-12 games that aren't carried by other broadcasters. I hope all of the DirecTV executives responsible for this mess get fired when AT&T completes its acquisition of DirecTV.

As for Pac-12 Network executives, you guys are equally responsible for my pissed-off mood, so I'll extend to you the Yiddish curse that I directed to DirecTV in a previous rant. 

May you get passage out of the old village safely, and when you settle, may you fall into the outhouse just as a regiment of Ukrainians is finishing a prune stew and twelve barrels of beer.

Here's my previous posts on this irritating subject.

2014. Still no Pac-12 Network on DirecTV. Am I an idiot to renew?
DirecTV Pac-12 Network excuses are annoying
Tell DirecTV how you feel about not getting Pac-12 games
2012 Oregon-OSU Civil War game not on DirecTV. Curses!
Trying to be positive as DirecTV lacks Pac-12 Network
DirecTV raises rates 5%. Still no Pac 12 Network 

My fart-filled investigation into Nicki Minaj's feminist credentials

Until recently I was disturbingly unaware of several important bits of information relating to female rapper Nicki Minaj.

Though I'm 65, not exactly Minaj's target audience, I still try to keep up on youth culture by watching the MTV Video Music Awards each year and...

Um. Well. Let me think. And...

OK, not much else. 

Still, I was vaguely aware of Minaj's assets, so to speak, having noticed somewhere the difficult-to-forget image of her album.

What truly drew me into learning more about Minaj, though, was coming across a mention of how someone had added fart sounds to her "Anaconda" video. Believe me, anytime I see the words "fart sounds," I will damn well click on that link. 

I was hugely glad that I did. So was my wife. We laughed uncontrollably at the video. 

Naturally I then became curious about what Minaj's original Anaconda video was like, since some (well, a lot) of the sexual allure was obscured by the fart-sounds. 

That video also was appealing. Sorry, it can't be embedded. Watch on You Tube. With over 146 million views, obviously many other people felt the same way.

Not everyone though. Browsing through some comments on the above-linked video, I noted some along the lines of "I can't believe Minaj is considered to be a feminist."

Now, I am totally comfortable -- no, more than that, highly approving -- of women who shake their asses seductively in the course of making a cultural statement about female empowerment.

At the same time, I could understand why some would question Minaj's feminist credentials given the lyrics to "Anaconda."

Which include:

Don't don't don't, my anaconda don't
Don't want none unless you got buns, hun

Oh my gosh, look at her butt
Oh my gosh, look at her butt
Oh my gosh, look at her butt

Yeah, he love this fat ass
Yeah, this one is for my bitches with a fat ass in the fucking club
I said, where my fat ass big bitches in the club?
Fuck those skinny bitches, fuck those skinny bitches in the club
I wanna see all the big fat ass bitches in the motherfucking club
Fuck you if you skinny bitches WHAT?

I got a big fat ass
Come on

This does seem to set women in the "fat ass" category against the "skinny bitch" contingent, though maybe just in the "fucking club." Not sure about the grocery store, coffeehouse, or PTA meeting. 

I then sought further enlightenment about Minaj's feminism through the Great God Google. Here's an excerpt from "Nicki Minaj's Feminism Isn't About Your Comfort Zone: On 'Anaconda' and Respectability Politics."

Nicki Minaj is not a woman who easily slides into the roles assigned to women in her industry or elsewhere. She’s not polished, she’s not concerned with her reputation, and she’s certainly not fighting for equality among mainstream second-wave feminists.

She’s something else, and she’s something equally worth giving credence to: a boundary-breaker, a nasty bitch, a self-proclaimed queen, a self-determined and self-made artist. She’s one of the boys, and she does it with the intent to subvert what it means. She sings about sexy women, about fucking around with different men. She raps about racing ahead in the game, imagines up her own strings of accolades, and rolls with a rap family notorious for dirty rhymes, foul mouths, and disregard for authority and hegemony.

While Beyoncé has expanded feminist discourse by reveling in her role as a mother and wife while also fighting for women’s rights, Minaj has been showing her teeth in her climb to the top of a male-dominated genre. Both, in the process, have expanded our society’s idea of what an empowered women looks like — but Minaj’s feminist credentials still frequently come under fire.

To me, it seems like a clear-cut case of respectability politics and mainstreaming of the feminist movement: while feminist writers raved over Beyoncé’s latest album and the undertones of sexuality and empowerment that came with it, many have questioned Minaj’s decisions over the years to subvert beauty norms using her own body, graphically talk dirty in her work, and occasionally declare herself dominant in discourse about other women.

That concluding link led me a Salon article, "Nicki Minaj's retroactive feminism: How the biggest female rapper stops just short of being the best feminist."

Minaj truly can be a wonderful role model in the way she encourages embodying your own destiny. But this interview on Nightline, in which she forgoes naming herself a “feminist” in lieu of “girl power,” brought to light exactly what her feminism is about: the 1990s.

If you’ll recall, in the ’90s, the term “girl power” was invoked by the Spice Girls and other corporate entities to neuter the explicit feminism inherent in other music of the day—the in-your-face woman power of Yo Yo, the subversive energy of Bikini Kill, as two examples.

“Girl power” feminism ushered in a convoluted feminism that gave birth to sentiments like “I am the female Weezy”: sex positivity was often framed as “if men can be promiscuous, so can I”; throwback glamour to the ’50s and ’60s was framed as countercultural, rather than retroactive.Minaj’s invocation of the term recalls that era. And while complex, complicated definitions of feminism are important to its progression—there is a point in which the water gets stale. We’ve heard it all before.

Perhaps so.

This is why the fart-enhanced video of Minaj's "Anaconda" is so important. It takes a wrecking ball to the patriarchal ideology of what a female rapper music video should be, subverting the culturally dominant male gaze through radical humor. 

Or something like that.

2014. Still no Pac-12 Network on DirecTV. Am I an idiot to renew?

As I begin to write this post, the Oregon-South Dakota game -- kicking off the 2014 season for the Ducks -- will begin in nine minutes.

I won't be watching it because of two goddamn corporate assholes.

I live in the boonies of rural south Salem, 20 minutes from a sports bar. I have DirecTV, which is still in a three year long pissing match with the Pac 12 Network, with both sides throwing insults at each other (see preceding links).

So I'll be listening to the Ducks game on the radio. Sure, the nailbiter in this mis-matchup will be whether the Ducks win by 70 points or more. 

But contrary to what DirecTV thinks, I freaking WANT to watch every Oregon and Oregon State game, even if they are blowouts.

DirecTV has said that their customers will be able to see games "with the most national or conference title implications" on ESPN and other channels DirecTV carries.

That's a stupid thing to say.

Oregon has a good chance of being one of the top teams in the country this years. It's now ranked #3. EVERY game is important to Oregon's national title chances, including the blowouts.

But here's the possibly idiotic thing: yesterday I took advantage of DirecTV's offer to give me a free Genie HD receiver if I renewed with them for another two years.

I don't feel like a complete idiot, just a maybe one, because we had DISH network before and it ended up irritating me even more than DirecTV does. I like everything about DirecTV except the lack of the Pac-12 Network.

So I stuck with the bastards, figuring that all big media companies are S.O.B.'s; it's just a matter of degree.

Like this guy says, there's little or no chance DirecTV and the Pac-12 Network will work out a deal this year.  Which sucks. 

Just about the only positive take on the situation I could find is this piece, "The Pac-12 Network's schedule is its greatest failure." For DirecTV customers, failure means the only bright spot.

The way DirecTV sees it, the best football games the Pac-12 offers are already available to its customers. That's because the conference lets ESPN and Fox cherry-pick the top games each week, often just six or 12 days before kickoff. [...]

"Even though it is unwilling to invest its best games into its own channel, the conference has still established a high price for Pac-12 Networks and refuses to compromise," DirecTV spokesman Thomas Tyrer said.

Thus the situation could be a lot worse, if the Pac-12 Network kept the best games for itself. I'm thankful it doesn't. But otherwise I'm still pissed at both DirecTV and the Pac-12 Network. 

As I have been since 2012. Here's my previous rants.

DirecTV Pac-12 Network excuses are annoying
Tell DirecTV how you feel about not getting Pac-12 games
2012 Oregon-OSU Civil War game not on DirecTV. Curses!
Trying to be positive as DirecTV lacks Pac-12 Network
DirecTV raises rates 5%. Still no Pac 12 Network

Well, it's now close to the end of the first quarter. 21-3 Oregon.

Could be an 80 point win if the starters stay in. Feels like I'm back in high school, circa 1965, listening to SF Giants baseball games on a transistor radio. Now I'm using an iPhone.

Retro, but irritating, since it is 2014. Get your acts together, DirecTV and Pac-12 Network. 

Photos of 2014 Oregon Country Fair -- yes, yes, yes!

Man, I so love the Oregon Country Fair in Veneta. Every year my wife and I feel joyful and rejuvenated when we attend on our usual opening Friday. 

If only the entire freaking United States could be this loving, this uninhibited, this creative, this yes-yes-yes (a Fair slogan) ALL of the time.

After parking our car, we came across a talented couple outside the entrance gate who reminded us that everyday reality is much enhanced during the three days of the fair.

We had bought tickets months ago in anticipation of our annual secular-sacred July pilgrimage to a land where a fierce friendly creature greets visitors. I guess "the dragon ate my ticket" would have been a good excuse if I'd misplaced my entry pass.

Their bike seemed way too big for them. Or they were too smal for the bike. Or something. No need to figure stuff out at the Oregon Country Fair. Just flow with ...whatever.

Lucky us! A parade passed by soon after we started our tour of the winding paths that lead through the fair.

I was able, but just barely, to squeeze into the always-popular belly dancing viewing area. The only place to stand was right in front of a tree. But that only enhanced the view.

Because it seemed like the beautiful woman was dancing with the tree. Or the tree was dancing with her. 

Briefly she and the tree became one.

An Oregon Country Fair path-side conversation between friends. 

This sure seemed like a possible purchase -- Laurel's favorite colors. But she passed it by. So many booths, so little time. The cloudy rainless 80 degree'ish weather today was perfect for pleasant browsing. Not nearly as hot as it sometimes is at the fair. 

A broom danced on top of this booth. Which was selling brooms.

The whole ambience of the Oregon Country Fair is like no other, in large part because of the beautiful natural setting.

Marvelous colors stand out against the often-mossy greenery.

We encountered Matt Trickey, who works at LifeSource Natural Foods here in Salem. He was peddling "fossillized mushrooms." OK... Whatever, Matt. He tried to explain what they were to me, but wasn't making any sense. Matt might have been under the influence of non-fossillized mushrooms.

Or maybe I was. Because I could completely get what this guy was telling me.

This was one of my favorite booths. I could live happily in this simple booth-cottage. (If it had high-speed Internet. And a big screen TV.)

Here's another high-tech/low-tech juxtaposition. A kid was perusing his iPad, I think it was, from inside a woven wood sculpture.

The drumming circle was filled with happy energy. This guy with a flute accompanied the drummers skillfully.

Another parade!

The parade's band members ended up at Stage Left to be part of a vaudeville show. During the show a cast member asked the audience, "What's the most boring town!" Naturally I yelled out "Salem" as loud as I could.

So sad... we had to leave in late afternoon.


Along with Nancy and Steve, friends from Salem who came to the fair with us.

Walking back to our car, I came across a "throne" that gave me regal ideas. I liked the notion of blessing  admiring throngs with a vague dismissive gesture of my kingly hand.

Initially throngless, I managed to find one peasant willing to stand by my throne and receive her lord's blessing. (Just barely willing, though, judging from her expression.)

A final parking area image.

I'll be part of Stories from the Dark Side. Existential angst, be mine!

OK, blog post title philosophical nit-pickers, the emotional core I want to get in touch with for my Stories from the Dark Side bit isn't exactly existential angst. But it's close.

I'm thrilled to be part of the next Stories from the Dark Side: Thursday, May 29, Grand Theatre, 7 pm. Tickets $10 in advance, $15 at door. Oregon Crêpe Company and Santiam Brewing Co. will be offering food, wine, and beer before the event starts at, I think, 7:30.

I've got a good dark story to share, as do the other presenters.

You can see who other dark story-tellers are on the Stories from the Dark Side Facebook page. For one, Rob Melton, a.k.a. Rob the Bartender, will be back to tell another shadowy tale.

The great thing about this event, from my story-teller perspective, is that it's a win-win deal. If my story comes off all entertaining and enjoyable, great.

But if I bomb on stage, hideously embarassing myself, and I slink off afterward into the downtown night, depressed, despondent, and disturbed beyond belief -- hey, I'll have material for another Dark Side story! 

I'm already bothered that the bio I wrote for the event organizers is longer than anyone else's. Makes me look like a self-centered, egotistical, blabby guy who likes to talk about himself.

Which, now that I think about it, is pretty damn accurate.

I'm so outraged at Jen Selter's "butt selfies," I had to look at them three times

My intellectual interest in Jen Selter arose when I read a piece on Jezebel, "We Need to Talk About 'Butt Selfie Queen' Jen Selter."

Though I noticed two photos of Selter at the top of the page, I hurried past them to study what I hoped would be a serious post-modern feminist critique of the objectification of women -- a practice that I have heard about, but naturally have no personal experience with, given my lifelong heterosexual male practice of paying attention only to a woman's inner essence, not her bodily form.

The article, sadly, turned out to be a complaint that Selter's white girl self-booty-deification was a ripoff of big-ass-worshipping that communities of color have been engaging in for a long time. The author, Kara Brown, felt so strongly about this she wrote it in ALL CAPS.

JENNIFER LOPEZ KICKED OFF THE POPULARIZATION AND ACCEPTANCE OF BIG ASSES IN THE MAINSTREAM–A TRAIT THAT HAS BEEN PRESENT AND CELEBRATED IN BLACK AND LATINO COMMUNITIES IN AMERICA SINCE BASICALLY FOREVER.

So I decided to conduct my own feminist research into the Jen Selter phenomenon, who has been featured in Vanity Fair (this is a photo from the magazine). 

I started with her Instagram account.

Right away I noticed that Jen Selter has over 3,200,000 followers who have ogled her 400+ posts. Wanting to keep tabs of this outrageous objectification of a curvaceous young woman, I increased her "Follow" numbers by one more.

My first pass through her Instagram photos went fairly quickly, since I mainly wanted to get the lay of the land regarding Jen Selter, so to speak. She did indeed emphasize a certain posterior area of her female geography, though her chest came in for close attention also.

I then attempted what I thought might be impossible for me: put myself in the frame of mind of a man who looked upon Selter only as a gorgeous collection of body parts, someone to be fantasized about as a sex object rather than a living, breathing, loving, learning human being.

As difficult as it was for my elevated male-feminist mind to do, I went through Selter's Instagram and Facebook photos more slowly another time, trying to imagine which ones would appeal to me the most if I was the sort of crude ass-and-boobs objectifying man which I so obviously am not.

The top three results of my research follow.

 

I will, of course, continue to monitor Jen Selter's Instagram account and Facebook page for even more egregious examples of her objectification. I've re-checked her photos for a third time, and will keep on doing so in my research efforts regarding her misguided attempt to reign as the "butt selfie queen." 

Hey, someone has to do it. I'm pretty sure most of her 3,200,000 Instagram followers aren't motivated by the pure feminist reasons that led me to spend so much time gazing upon Selter's ass and boobs.

Jesus explains to Sarah Silverman when life begins

Finally. We've got a divine revelation that settles a vexing abortion rights question.

"Jesus, when does life begin?'"

"At forty." (laughter) "The fertilized eggs aren't people. People are people." ... "But, people who believe fertilized eggs are people are people too. You have to love them."

Done. Settled. Finis. 

Jesus Christ, son of God, had this interchange with Sarah Silverman. I know, because I've seen the You Tube video. 

And we all know that everything on the Internet is true.

Watch. And believe.

 

Wow! 10 year old girl drummer really has got the beat

Being semi-rhythm impaired (I've gotten a bit better after lots of dance lessons), watching this young girl play the drums looks akin to magic to me. 

Beautiful magic. I don't believe in reincarnation, but if I'm wrong, being reborn as someone with the ability to do this would be just fine. 

 

"Gravity" movie messes up some basic physics

Last night my wife and I saw Gravity, 3-D style, at Salem's eating/drinking-friendly Cinebarre movie house. 

My overall impression was great movie.

Not least, because no matter how bad a day I have from now on, remembering what it was like for Sandra Bullock to be lost in orbit, oxygen almost depleted, with no apparent way back to Earth, utterly isolated, will remind me that there are way worse sorts of days.

Watching Gravity, though, there were times when my semi-scientific mind went Huh? How could that be?

It turns out that I was justified in my skepticism about the physical plausibility of what I was seeing. Check out 'Gravity': Panel of astro-experts on the science behind the film. 

I recommend reading the Entertainment Weekly story only after you see the movie. There are some spoilers in there.

However, it won't give anything away to say that my #1 skeptical scene in Gravity also was singled out by the experts for special criticism. (I've edited out some spoilers in the quotes below.)

PP: Yeah, that scene was the one scene in the whole movie where I kind of went, “I have a hard time forgiving this.” ... She’s stopped, there’s nothing pulling on him now, it’s not like she’s hanging from a tree holding on to his wrist. There’s no force on him, all she had to do was very gently pull on the tether and he would have come floating up to her....

LC: Yeah, that was a horribly inaccurate thing. They stopped, so there’s nothing else pulling on him...The physics on that is totally wrong.

Super cute 4 year old dancing "gangnam style"

This video made me smile, a lot. And realize all is right with the world. So long as little girls dressed up for a wedding can dance with such energy and joy.

Have a watch. And laugh. (She warms up after a minute or two; her marvelous Gangnam style gets going after that.)

Twerking videos to clue in the clueless

I am hugely proud that my wife and I watched the recent MTV Video Music Awards. We are hip, with-it, cool seniors (both 64 years old) who appreciate the youthful side of life.

Like Miley Cyrus's uninhibited tongue-protruding booty-shaking performance at the VMA's. I liked Lady Gaga more, but we were impressed with how fully Miley has left behind her clean-cut Hannah Montana days.

Miley is on the right; Gaga on the left.

Both demonstrated a marvelous fact of modern culture: it is totally fine for females to strip almost naked and gyrate on national TV, but men must preserve their clothed dignity, by and large. I'm fine with this; my feminista wife, Laurel, not so much.

Our with-it'ness was not complete, though.

When I read stories about Miley's performance, I kept seeing references to her twerking. I was clueless about what this word meant. Laurel was also. We did correctly guess that it must have something to with either tongues or hips.

A bit of You Tube searching revealed the truth in the form of a "how to" video that has amassed 13,300,000 views. Good to know that people know what is important to learn in life.

 

I felt like I had the moves down in just a minute or so of practice. However, Laurel scoffed at my twerking. "Your butt is barely moving," she told me. I defensively argued back that Wikipedia says twerking usually is done by women (for obvious reasons).

 

This video convinced me that Wikipedia is absolutely on target. Though she does not win the booty-shaking competition, the blonde girl puts her heart butt into it at minutes 2 and 4 of the video. 

 

Each of the competitors puts Miley Cyrus to twerking shame. I had never seen her official "We Can't Stop" video. Spending three and a half minutes of my life watching it, I had difficulty thinking of any other 210 seconds I've experienced that was more painful. Maybe a root canal.

As an alternative, I recommend the video below to Miley Cyrus twerking fans. It is silent, probably for copyright reasons. But it appropriately focuses on the only redeeming quality of the "We Can't Stop" video: her ass.

 

Photos of wonderfully weird 2013 Oregon Country Fair

Friday Laurel and I made our annual pilgrimage south from staid sleepy Salem to the wonderfully bizarre, creative, and energetic Oregon Country Fair in Veneta-- one of the wonders of the world. 

(Including extra-terrestrial worlds; can't believe there is anything like the Oregon Country Fair anywhere in the universe.)

Here's some photographic glimpses of what we encountered. 

Soon after entering the Fair, we came across these two girls performing a charming "butterfly dance" to a group's music. Video recording isn't allowed at the Oregon Country Fair. Wish it was. The girls were enchanting.

These guys appeared to be shopping for an addition to their already impressive outfits at one of the many craft booths lining the Fair's shaded treed pathways.

I saw an unusually tall girl making her way through fairgoers.

When she passed me, I understood the source of her tallness.

Here's Laurel, my wife, with her blue hat and Most Colorful Backpack at the 2013 Oregon Country Fair. The girl next to her just had an attractive back.

In the mottled sun of a tye-dye booth, this guy looked like a fair-going human chameleon blending in with his environment.

So did my wife.

Kids often travel in style at the Oregon Country Fair. 

Mr. Video, or whatever he was called, is behind the picture frame -- a real live video game character. The kid in the lower left corner manipulates a joystick that "controls" Mr. Video, who yells out feedback to the game-player. Highly creative and entertaining. Only at the Oregon Country Fair...

People of all sorts take the opportunity to show their stuff.

I found some of that "stuff" more enjoyable to observe than other varieties. But, hey, it's all good.

Over at the Main Stage area this girl was demonstrating some skilled hula hoop moves to rockin' music. Loved to watch her. Had no idea what it's possible to do with a hula hoop.

Best alternative to the usual "Pick Up" sign ever. 

The booths blend harmoniously with their natural surroundings. This display looked like a colorful clothes river cascading out of the forest.

Perfect bathroom karma! While doing my, um, thing, I heard the sound of a parade approaching. Just had enough time to rush out of the stall and fire up my camera.

Laurel and I loved this tree. Couldn't capture the oak's full width and height in a single photo. Amazing tree.

Laurel, pausing along a tree-lined fair lane.

We took a break and sat on a bridge bench next to a man who seemed to be an Oregon Country Fair regular. People would say "Hi Ducks Guy!" to him. Major Oregon fan, obviously. Blended in well with the green foliage.

I call this photo, "Woman Contemplating Necklace Purchase." Ah, the concentration, the focus. Laurel, my wife, often has been told "you look like Joni Mitchell." True.

Just another Oregon Country Fair-goer. After a few minutes at the Fair, "normal" is redefined to mean whatever. I love the oft-seen banner at the Fair: yes, yes, yes.

Near the end of our time at the Fair we paused to watch an animated accordionist sing and play in a beautiful tent setting. Usually don't find accordian-playing too enjoyable, but this guy was great.

Leaving the fair, we encountered a Bug Man. First photo I took was before the wings unfolded. Glad I waited around to catch the full extended glory.

2013 World Beat Festival -- great multi-cultural fun

Every year I look forward to Salem's World Beat Festival. I'm never disappointed. For the suggested $5 donation you really get your money's worth. 

Today I was fortunate to arrive just in time to see a Japanese Martial Arts demonstration featuring students from Tokyo International University of America here in Salem. Highly enjoyable. Loved the drumming!

Also loved the veggie Himalayan noodle plate from the Kathmandu Cafe -- my usual World Beat lunch.

It's great to see lots of people out and about, enjoying themselves. Sadly, this is rarer than it should be in Salem. For a city of over 150,000, the citizenry is decidedly hidden most of the time.

Downtown, where the World Beat Festival is held at the riverfront, usually lacks this sort of happy energy. We need more of it.

Simple fun gathering places make a city more than bricks, concrete, and asphalt. Riverfront Park's splash fountain was a big hit with kids (and some adults) on this 90 degree late June day. It'd be nice if the Historic District had a mini-park with a fountain like this; sure would be better than vacant lots.

Walking by the river, just past the last World Beat Festival booths, I'm always reminded by how poorly Salem makes use of its riverfront. It's easily missed by downtown visitors, since you have to cross a very busy street and a large expanse of grass to get to the Willamette.

The SJPix guy was at the festival, taking photos of people who posed in front of a Statesman Journal front page mock-up. I walked by him at first, then my Inner Exhibitionist took control of me. 

I got out a Ninja Fan that I'd bought at an Asia-Pacific booth. I've played around with a fan in my Tai Chi classes a few times. My instructor knows a fan form that looks really cool, with the snappy openings and closings. 

I could tell that my Ninja Fan had a nice snap to it, even with my decidedly crappy current opening and closing technique. (Fans can be martial arts weapons.)

Anyway, I told the photographer that I needed a few seconds to channel my inner geisha. Then I posed with the fan demurely (????) hiding half of my face as I coquetteishly (????) gazed over the top of it. The question marks reflect the fact that I'm a 64 year old gray-haired guy who was wearing a baseball cap and dark glasses.

Somehow I suspect that I didn't pull off the geisha look very well.

But, hey, I've been refreshing the SJPix page regularly to see if today's photos are up yet. So if the Statesman Journal newspaper offers this as a way to garner more page views, they're succeeding.

If you live in Salem, don't miss the World Beat Festival. I'll probably return tomorrow for Middle Eastern belly-dancing at the ampitheatre.

My culinary connection with Bollywood

Oh, yeah. I'm almost a Bollywood star. 

Defining almost to mean... 

Someone who caused Shahid Kapoor, a Bollywood star, to become a vegetarian. Since what Kapoor eats is what makes him up, and I changed what he eats, ergo: I'm almost a Bollywood star.

(If you don't think too much about the logic of that last sentence.)

Read all about me!

Here's my bro, Shahid, looking cool and doing his dance thing. We vegetarians have got it going on, for sure.

 

Salem's US Bank tree cutting needs to be featured on The Daily Show

Us opponents of the senseless cutting-down of five beautiful Japanese Zelkova trees in downtown Salem are on a pretty good publicity roll: 

A few days ago the Statesman Journal published online a guest opinion by Carole Smith and me, "US Bank tree removal decision was horribly flawed." Today the paper printed my letter to the editor, titling it "City was wrong to let US Bank cut down trees." Carole has submitted her own letter, which hopefully will be published soon.

(Comment away on the guest opinion and letter, especially if you think we've expressed ourselves brilliantly and are on the proper side of truth, justice, baby birds, and shade trees.)

But there's more publicizing to be done. This afternoon, while mowing the grass, my mind popped up the best idea of all.

This crazy US bank tree cutting drama needs to be featured on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart!

Freaking f#!%ing genius, Brian! I told myself, as I do so often -- yet usually with considerably less reason.

The story is a natural for The Daily Show. That's obvious. I just can't decide which member of their news team would be the best fit to come out to Salem and report on the delicious absurdities of our downtown drama.

I like John Oliver a lot. But his English accent could be distracting.

Jason Jones probably would be best. He could project a requisite blend of sarcasm and outrage. Humorously, of course. Or I could easily see Samantha Bee doing some killer interviews with the story's Cast of Characters.

We've got at least...

The five trees themselves. Three have been cut down. Two remain. The arc of the story depends on what happens with the last two (more about that below).

Baby birds. They are what saved the two trees from being killed in the first wave of chainsaw attacks. Interviews with local Audubon types in bird suits would be in order.

Crazed French chef. David Rosales would be pleased, I'm sure, to re-enact his screaming protest of the tree-killings inside the US Bank lobby. 

Ambitious Public Works director. Peter Fernandez wants to spend $700 million or so on a Third Bridge that hardly anybody but the Chamber of Commerce and Realtor's Association wants. He approved the tree removals even though he was advised not to by City tree experts and its Shade Tree Committee.

Ambitious US Bank president. That is Ryan Allbritton who -- surprise! -- also is the incoming president of the Chamber of Commerce. 

Tree hugging opponents. Ah, one would be me, an Oregon stereotype: gray haired/bearded senior citizen skateboarder, electric car owner, vegetarian, save the Earth'er. Another, my comrade opponent: Carole Smith, downtown businesswoman and general pain-in-the-butt to conservative City politicians.

Marvelous scenes in a The Daily Show investigative bit present themselves to my imagination. And I'm not even a professional. For sure our Salemia team -- David Jenkins, a screenwriter, and Mike Perron, a person hard to describe -- could come up with some great ideas here.

I'll just give a few examples that easily came to mind:

Interviewer: Mr. Allbritton, I understand that a French chef was arrested in your lobby for screaming in outrage about what a giant U.S. bank had done. If this is illegal, why isn't most of the American public behind bars?

Allbritton: [mute irritated look]

------------------

Interviewer: Mr. Fernandez, you are the Public Works director of an Oregon town that is proud of winning 37 consecutive Tree City USA awards. Your department received an application to cut down five beautiful healthy downtown trees. The City's tree experts, independent arborists, and members of the public all advised you to prune, rather than kill, the trees. So naturally you decided to save the trees, right?

Fernandez: No, I issued a decision to kill them. 

Like I said, it's the ending of The Daily Show investigative bit that is in question here. This depends on whether US Bank and the City persist in cutting down the last two trees.

Speaking for the opponents, I'd much prefer to have a lighter-hearted positive ending.

Via this blog post, I now declare to US Bank that I am offering to devote some of my retired time, which could have gone to being a greeter at WalMart, to becoming a volunteer leaf raker for the downtown Salem US Bank branch.

I've heard from reliable sources (a term that makes me sound more like a real journalist than a blogger, assuming this is a step up) that US Bank wanted the trees removed because when they drop leaves in the fall, customers track them into the lobby.

Well, Mr. Allbritton, I'm your leaf-collecting man.

I live out in rural south Salem. We have some large oak trees around our house that shed more leaves than the remaining Zelkova trees at your bank do. I can handle leaf-picking-up duties for both our trees and your trees. 

Glad to help.

Even though it looks to me like US Bancorp made over five billion dollars last year, I can understand why bank executives might not want to spend money on picking up leaves from some beautiful trees on a public street adjoining the Ladd & Bush downtown branch. 

I'd do it for free, because this is the only remaining reason I can think of why US Bank would want to cut down the last two trees. Three of five have been removed, reducing any possible minor problems with them (such as sightlines to the building) by 60%.

Tree experts and the City's own urban forester say that pruning can resolve any other problems, such as branches being too close to the building. Liability issues associated with any future sidewalk problems that could be caused by roots isn't a concern; this was made clear in Fernandez' March 12 decision document.

All I ask -- and this is a "please" not a must -- is that I be able to wear a US Bank baseball cap while I pick up the leaves. This would show passers by that I'm someone officially associated with the bank, and just a crazy senior citizen skateboarder, not a crazy street person.

It'd be cool if the end of The Daily Show bit showed us all -- bank officials, City staff, opponents -- sitting down in Rosale's restaurant and sharing a "no hard feelings" toast together. Of course, there would have to be some humor here also. 

How about if bank president Ryan Allbritton doesn't like the taste of the French wine and starts screaming at Rosales, almost turning over a table. Then stops himself just in time... with a grin. Hug by Rosales. "We're brothers, man." 

The other possible ending? Not so heart-warming, if all five trees have been cut down. I'd rather not envision it. Let's be positive.

Save the last two trees, US Bank. You'd come out looking better in a The Daily Show segment. Also, in the eyes of the tree-loving public. 

Write US Bank and tell them you'd like to see a happier ending to the tree story. Just three dead trees, not five. 

[email protected]  
[email protected]
[email protected] 

Michelle Obama shows off "Evolution of Mom" moves

It's been a good show business week for the First Lady. Last night she announced the Oscar for Best Picture via satellite from the White House.

I thought she did a better job than many of the "real" presenters, including a curiously distracted Kristen Stewart. (In Stewart's defense, she arrived on crutches, so probably was in pain while onstage.)

Earlier, on Friday, Obama rocked some dance moves with a cross-dressing Jimmy Fallon on his show. I'm sure happy her husband beat Mitt Romney. Could Ann Romney have pulled off what Michelle Obama did? 

Watch and marvel at some damn good dancing. From the only real woman performing.

 

"Beasts of the Southern Wild," a paean to soulful strangeness

I loved the movie, "Beasts of the Southern Wild." Yesterday I tried to explain on my other blog what the film meant to me. 

Don't feel like I succeeded. This try likely won't be much more successful. After all, what I love about "Beasts of the Southern Wild" is its -- no big surprise -- beastliness and wildness.

Guess I could roar. Or jump up on a table and scream "I'm the man! I'm the man!" like the marvelous Hushpuppy does in the movie. Or trample down buildings like the aurochs do.

Or... I can type away and try to say what I feel in words that are pale shadows of how the movie moved me. OK, I'll do that.

Watching the movie, I became aware of how judgmental I've been about rural southern rednecks, including the black equivalent, who obviously don't have red necks, nor the same political philosophy. 

My wife and I are card-carrying Chevy Volt-driving, Starbucks Pike Place-ordering, obsessively-recycling, vegetarian-eating, healthful habits-following Oregonians. I wasn't born in a bayou. I was born in freaking Massachusetts, and still feel the psychic influence of my comparatively prim and proper New England heritage.

Compared, that is, to the world of coastal Louisiana shown in "Beasts of the Southern Wild" -- which must be fairly close to reality, because I couldn't help but feel this is so real throughout the movie.

What those strange soulful denizens of a land perched between sea and land, between chaos and stability, between drunkenness and sobriety, have is what I want. Well, let's say that I want to really want what they have, since right now I talk strange soulfulness more than I practice it.

I was inspired by the movie. I was moved by the movie. I was attracted by the movie. 

My alcoholic consumption is pretty much limited to one glass of red wine per night, consumed not for purposes of intoxication, but for heart-healthiness. Yet I loved watching the human beasts of the southern wild clutch beers and other instruments of alcohol ingestion almost as often as not. I loved how they yelled, and screamed, and danced, and broke rules of all kinds -- safety, child protective, medical, environmental, whatever. 

Understand: I still love my green, organized, methodical, practical, reasonable lifestyle. But I must have a longing for more beastly wildness, or I wouldn't have loved watching "Beasts of the Southern Wild" so much.

Echoing Freud, I usually feel like I'm not really discontented with civilization. Until I'm exposed to another view of what "civilized" means, like what is shown in this movie. Wikipedia's summary of Freud's book does ring true.

In this seminal book, Sigmund Freud enumerates what he sees as the fundamental tensions between civilization and the individual.

The primary friction, he asserts, stems from the individual's quest for instinctual freedom and civilization's contrary demand for conformity and instinctual repression. Many of humankind's primitive instincts (for example, the desire to kill and the insatiable craving for sexual gratification) are clearly harmful to the well-being of a human community.

As a result, civilization creates laws that prohibit killing, rape, and adultery, and it implements severe punishments if such rules are broken. This process, argues Freud, is an inherent quality of civilization that instills perpetual feelings of discontent in its citizens.

l don't long for lawlessness. Just more strange soulfulness. Not dancing naked under Oregon's fir trees on a cold wintry night while coyotes and wolves surround me with howls. But the everyday clothed wild-animal-free equivalent.

Lots of wonderfully human emotions were on exhibit in "Beasts of the Southern Wild." One wasn't: fear. Nor its cousins: anxiety, worry, tentativeness. (Well, maybe a tiny bit, but barely.)

I loved how people in The Bathtub really lived their lives in the movie. No one was just going through the motions, playing a role, doing what was expected of them, drawing completely within civilization's lines.

They screamed when they were excited, cried when they were sad, threw stuff when they were angry, fired shotguns at a hurricane when they wanted the storm to stop. Reasonable people could reasonably argue that a lot of dysfunction was on display in "Beasts of the Southern Wild."

Can't argue with that assessment. I just don't feel like being a reasonable person arguing reasonably. I loved the beastly wildness of the movie, and the people in it. If that's dysfunction, let's have more of it. 

(Tomorrow I might read this and want to add... "within reason." But I hope I don't.)

Pickpocket Apollo Robbins: so smooth at stealing

If you think you'd know if a skilled pickpocket was taking your watch, wallet, or cell phone, think again. That's the lesson I've learned from watching a video of theatrical pickpocket (meaning, a legal "stealer") Apollo Robbins.

I've watched the video several times, I'm so fascinated by Robbins. His physical skills are amazing, but its the smoothness of his whole persona that is particularly impressive. Without that, his pickpocketing would be much less successful.

Have a look. And a read, if you click on that link. 

DirecTV raises rates 5%. Still no Pac 12 Network.

Overly optimistic me actually was eager to open a recent email from DirecTV with a subject line, "Information about your DIRECTV account."

I hoped the big news was that, finally, DIrecTV had reached a deal with the Pac 12 Network, and that I wouldn't have to miss any more football, basketball, or baseball games shown only on that network.

But no. I learned that we're going to pay 4.5% or so more this year. For nothing that means anything to me. Disney Jr. channel has been added along with some other yawn-inducing programming. Whoopee.

Here's what I told DirecTV, using their email link. No doubt this message will be treated by DirecTV with the same attention and respect that my other communications with them about the Pac 12 Network have been.

Namely, they will ignore what their customers want. 

I just got your email that our DirecTV bill will be going up by about 4.5%. I also am painfully aware that you still don't offer the Pac 12 Network. After missing a bunch of Oregon and Oregon State football games, I'm now getting to miss a bunch of Oregon and Oregon State basketball games.

Can hardly wait for baseball season, when I'll get to miss more Pac 12 sporting events that DISH customers get to watch, but not me -- who stupidly switched from DISH to DirecTV because I thought you cared more about your customers.

Your main argument for not making a deal with the Pac 12 Network, as so many other "cable" companies have done, was that rates would increase with an unfair deal.

Well, now rates have increased. And you STILL aren't offering the Pac 12 Network.

If I'm going to pay more, I'd like to get more. Eventually people like me are going to dump DirecTV for one of your competitors. Please wake up and smell the lost-customer roses. Make a deal with the Pac 12 Network. 

NOW!

"One Pound Fish" hasn't taken over my brain. But is trying to.

I suppose there's worse ways to go crazy than have your mind repeat the "One Pound Fish" ditty incessantly. So far, that hasn't happened to me. But it could...

Be warned. If you're prone to catchy songs playing uncontrollably in your head, don't watch these videos.

(Assuming you're one of the few people in the world, which included me up until a few days ago, who hasn't seen them yet.)

Background story here.

This is the original video of the fish seller.

 

And this is the jazzed up post-viral video version.

 

 

New "Vancouvria" episode shows how scary Portland is

I love Vancouvria. Though only disseminated via You Tube, It's a lot funnier than the IFC's Portlandia in my utterly objective and unarguable opinion.

Episode 1 of Season 2 has been released by the Vancouvria folks. It's great!

"Big City Survival Class" shows how Vancouverites who are terrified of crossing the Columbia into Portland are cured of their fears. Sort of. Have a look, and laugh.

 

Seemingly I shouldn't be too scared of Portland, judging from the final few minutes of the video showing photos of the Vancouverites making their post-therapy field trip to the Mysterious Land across the bridge.

I ride a skateboard.

OK, a longboard, but that's an intimate relative of what's shown in one of the photos. I also have no problem with naked bike riding. Or naked anything, for that matter. And I usually wear a "hoodie" sweatshirt that bears a close tye-dyed resemblance to an item of clothing that repels two Vancouverites.

Here's me.

And here's a scene from "Big City Survival Class."

However, I will admit to being clueless about how to ride Portland mass transit, especially light rail and streetcars. Back in my Portland State University days, the 1970's, I was adept at riding Tri Met buses.

Now I'm almost as wary of the MAX light rail system as the Vancouvria guy who thinks "M" stands for murder. Watching Portland news from the safety of our rural south Salem home, we regularly see reports of muggings, beatings, and other mayhem on MAX. 

So far as I remember, though, none of these involved a gray-haired senior citizen wearing a colorful tye-dyed hoodie with "Neskowin" emblazoned across the front. I should be OK if I ever dare to set foot on MAX.

Keep up the creative energy, Vancouvria. I look forward to the rest of your Season 2 episodes. There's got to be an episode focused on Washington's recently-passed laws that legalize marijuana and gay marriage, especially since Oregon hasn't legalized either.

In September I correctly anticipated that marijuana tourism would be coming to Washington state from Portlanders and other Oregonians. Sounds like a great way for Vancouvria to show that their town is cooler than Portland -- in a few ways.

Not Salem though. This is the comment I left on the latest Vancouvria You Tube video.

Us residents of Salem, affectionately known as So-lame to locals in the know, are afraid of visiting BOTH Portland and Vancouver. We've heard there actually are people on the sidewalks downtown in those cities. Scary! I'm used to a pleasingly boring and deserted downtown. Also, reportedly noise comes from restaurants and other night spots after 11 pm in Portland and Vancouver because people are inside... still awake! Super scary.

U.S. troops vs. Miami Dolphin cheerleaders in "Call Me Maybe" videos

Gorgeous! Both the guys and gals. Take your pick. Who do you respond to the most after hearing Call Me Maybe?

The split screen version is my favorite. The troops in Afghanistan did a terrific job mimicing the Miami Dolphins cheerleaders. Whoever shot the video was highly skilled also. 

 

Here's the troops by themselves.

 

And the cheerleaders by themselves.

 

2012 Oregon-OSU Civil War game not on DirecTV. Curses!

I wanted to put genuine profanity in the title of this post. But my sense of cyberspace propriety stopped me. Until now...

Fuck you, DirecTV! Fuck you, Pac 12 Network!

May you and your progeny (assuming corporations have progeny, but aren't they people too?) endure eternal torture in whatever hell is reserved for heartless, greedy, uncaring bastards who put their own selfish interest above the needs of others.

Like me. 

I've been annoyed with DirecTV for several months. Virtually every other "cable" provider has worked out an agreement with the Pac 12 Network. But not DirecTV. So I've been missing Oregon and Oregon State football games I wanted to see.

However, I kept remembering a promise I got from DirecTV customer service:

In addition, the vast majority of games, and those with the most conference or national title implications, will instead be televised by the ESPN family of networks and ABC Sports, FOX Sports and FSN, FX, CBS Sports and CBS Sports Network, NBC Sport and NBC Sports Network, and several other regional services, all of which are available on DIRECTV.

Oh, really? You liars!!! 

If Oregon doesn't beat Oregon State this Saturday, it's already-slim national championship hopes will be flushed completely down the BCS toilet. Ditto for its conference title hope, since Oregon has to win and Stanford has to lose this weekend for that to happen.

So DirecTV is screwing me and other subscribers out of being able to watch one of the most important Pac 12 football games of the season. There's no Pac 12 Network deal in sight.

I need to be temporarily adopted by a Comcast customer. From noon to four pm this Saturday. I've had all of my shots. I'm housetrained. I don't bite (anyone but DirecTV and Pac 12 Network employees). I'm not finicky (just put some chips and dip in my bowl).

Or I guess I could find a sports bar. I don't drink much, but I could make an exception this Saturday. That drunk screaming Fuck you, DirecTV! at the television would be me.

I'll be happy with whoever wins the football game. But DirecTV is the big loser regardless. Football fans in Oregon are going to remember your uncaring mendacity for a long, long time.

Surprise! "The Happy Movie" made me happy.

Thank you, Salem Progressive Film Series, for showing "The Happy Movie" last Thursday.

I enjoy going to your showings at the Grand Theatre, but usually they're a bit of a downer. After all, economic inequality, pollution, environmental degradation, and other socially significant subjects aren't exactly smile-inducers.

But happiness is. I hugely enjoyed learning about what contributes to happiness from experts in psychology, and also seeing happy people in action. 

Here's some themes from the movie that I remember. 

Flow. Yeah, flowing with life is the way to go. There was quite a bit of talk about flow, losing yourself in an activity to such an extent there's minimal difference between you and what you're doing. In other words, your focus is on the here and now, not the there and then.

I recall that during a narration of what flow means, the screen briefly showed a skateboarder sliding down a handrail. Being a geezer skateboarder/longboarder myself, my inner dude said right on. 

Along this line, I'll take this opportunity to premiere my own cinematic creation, the considerably less entertaining You Tube video that I filmed, directed, and starred in on the very afternoon before I watched The Happy Movie: "Big Stick longboarding, senior citizen style."

Description:

Risking my iPhone, I Kahuna Big Stick my way down a trail one-handed, videoing my marvelous 64 year old longboarding technique. Note the (accidental) cinematic effect at the end, where my dark glasses reflect my longboard rolling back down the slope toward me. Oscar for short subject, please!

 

This is an example of flow. I really enjoy longboarding because when I do it (up to four miles now), I'm really just doing it. Since I've only been into longboarding for about three months, my skills, and lack thereof, require me to focus pretty intensely on what's coming up on the trail. 

A rock, twig, broken pavement, sudden steep spot -- those sorts of things are a bigger deal to beginner me than they would be to a young dude or dudette who grew up with a skateboard as almost a bodily appendage. So I can't let my mind wander, enhancing a sense of flow.

Pleasingly, "The Happy Movie" showed examples of people who are still flowing with activities that they're experts in. Like a Brazilian surfer of indeterminate age (fifties?) who spoke movingly of what it means to him to become part of a wave on his board.

Compassion and service. Most of us wouldn't consider caring for the dying in a Calcutta center run by the Mother Teresa organization to be happiness-inducing. But the movie showed a man who had happily been there for over a decade, giving food and drink to the terminally ill, cleaning their sores, replacing their bandages. 

He was a Catholic, yet didn't emphasize the religious side of his service. He felt good helping others. I had the feeling that he'd be doing the same thing even if there wasn't a theological justification for his compassion.

This is borne out by studies which show that everywhere around the world, among believers and nonbelievers alike, people enjoy helping other people. Along with helping animals and the environment. Meditation was discussed in the movie, the sort of compassion-centered "may all be happy" meditative exercises favored by Buddhism.

Wishing other people good, even your enemies, makes you happy. I need to remember this the next time (which will be soon, believe me) I read or hear someone making a political assertion contrary to mine that deeply irritates me. 

I guess a place to start would be a minimalist compassion meditation like, "May those fucking idiots who haven't a clue be happy... and also wake up to the correct political point of view, which just happens to be mine, as soon as possible."

Hey, got to start somewhere.

Being social. I was surprised to hear in the movie that Japan is the least happy industrialized country in the world. The scenes of Japanese life, which admittedly were chosen to make that point, certainly reflected that. Japanese people seemingly are still heavy on the "workaholic" side of the scale, with too many leading emotionally isolated lives.

By contrast, a divorced woman in Denmark (I believe it was) is shown living happily with her child in a shared housing setup -- where families have individual living spaces, but share cooking, child care, and other duties.

She spoke about how great it was to only have to cook dinner for everybody once or twice a month, rather than prepare an evening meal for her own family every day. Plus, the social support she got from like-minded housing companions meant a lot to her.

Okinawa was presented as an interesting counter to nearby Japan. On that island people still live close to the earth, gardening for the pleasure of it, as well for the need of it. Relating to nature isn't the same as relating to humans. However, happiness is enhanced by feeling close to the natural world, just as being with other people makes us happy.

(Usually. I've been at some social gatherings that made me yearn for an isolation cell in a penitentiary.)

The Okinawans appear to have a marvelously age-integrated culture. Instead of the young doing their thing, and the elderly theirs, different generations rarely meeting, "The Happy Movie" showed Okinawa children and elders dancing and playing together. 

If you ever have a chance to see the film, do it. Likely it'll make you happy. I agreed with almost everything I saw in the movie. Except perhaps, the oft-heard admonition that once people attain a decent standard of living, getting more material stuff doesn't make them happier.

Huh?

Getting the iPhone 5 after being stuck with an iPhone 4 for ages (OK, two and a half years, but it felt like eternity) has made me really happy. Being able to upgrade my aging 13 inch MacBook Pro laptop to a retina display model would make me even happier.

Are you listening, Apple? How about contributing to an increase in the world's happiness level by releasing a 13 inch Retina MacBook Pro at the same time as the rumored iPad Mini this month?

Tell DirecTV how you feel about not getting Pac-12 games

Five weeks ago I started telling DirecTV that I wanted them to offer the Pac-12 Network now.

I've emailed customer service. I've had the Pac-12 channel finder notify DirecTV that I want to see every Oregon and Oregon State football game this season, not just the ones on channels (like ESPN) DirecTV does offer.

Four weeks ago I blogged about how DirecTV's excuses for shutting its subscribers out of the Pac-12 Network were annoying. 

They're much more annoying now.

Last Saturday I missed the Oregon State-Arizona game, which, when I read about it in the freaking newspaper the next day, turned out to have been tremendously exciting. Also, tremendously satisfying for us Oregonians, since OSU pulled out a win with a touchdown in the last few minutes.

I've read the DirecTV statement that they're ready to offer the games once they get a "fair deal" from the Pac-12 Network. Well, I'm sure the Pac-12 Network is a greedy corporate bastard, just as DirecTV is. 

But other "cable" systems, like Dish, DirecTV's satellite competitor, have managed to work out a deal with the Pac-12 Network that they found acceptable. So this holier-than-thou talk about fairness isn't cutting it with me.

Next Saturday I'm slated to miss another important Oregon State game against Washington State that's only being televised on the Pac-12 Network.

DirecTV customer service said in an email to me, "the vast majority of games, and those with the most conference or national title implications, will instead be televised by the ESPN family of networks and ABC Sports, FOX Sports and FSN, FX, CBS Sports and CBS Sports Network, NBC Sport and NBC Sports Network, and several other regional services, all of which are available on DIRECTV."

Hey, DirecTV: that's a lie.

Oregon currently is ranked #2 in the country; Oregon State #14. Both are undefeated. Thus every football game they play, every one, has important conference and national title implications.

So show the games!

Work out a deal with the Pac-12 Network like your competitors have. Every day you don't is another day that your subscribers who are Pac-12 fans are cursing you when, once again, they miss a game that is important to them.

I'm about to tell the DirecTV Corporate Office what I've just said in this blog post. Click here to express your own feelings. (Or the link at the top of this page, if that one doesn't work.)

Obviously DirecTV isn't getting a strong enough message from its disgruntled subscribers, or they'd have done the same sort of Pac-12 deal that Dish and others have accepted. (At the moment, reports are that no deal is in the works -- deeply irritating.)

I like DirecTV, so I'm reluctant to cancel and jump ship to the Dish Network. But if this ridiculous pissing match with the Pac-12 Network goes on much longer, I'm going to be seriously tempted to say goodbye to DirecTV.

DirecTV Pac-12 Network excuses are annoying

The sports page informs me that next Saturday's Oregon-Fresno State game only will be televised on the new Pac-12 Network. I want to watch the game. But paternalistic DirecTV doesn't feel that I should. 

Today, once again, I contacted DirecTV, saying that one of their Important Subscribers, namely, me, wanted the pissing match between them and the Pac-12 Network to be resolved. Pronto! Before Saturday. 

I got an annoying email response from a customer service rep. My reactions to the annoyances are in italics.

Dear Mr. Hines, 

Thank you for writing about the Pac 12 Sports Network. I see you are one of our loyal customers, and we would like you to know that we appreciate your business.

Believe me, I don't feel very loyal at the moment. I switched to DirecTV from Dish after Dish dropped CBS shows, such as our must-see Survivor, over a contract dispute. So I'd drop DirecTV in an instant if we had a viable cable alternative. But since we live in the boonies, I'm stuck with satellite.

I know that this channel is important to you.

Wow, very astute. Must be the frequent complaining I've been doing via email and Twitter ever since I realized that DirecTV wasn't going to carry the Pac-12 Network at the start of football season.

We have been in discussions with the Pac 12 Conference Commissioner and Pac-12 Networks representatives for several months and hope to reach an agreement that will be fair for both those customers who want to receive Pac 12 programming and those who do not. For the latest information on channel additions, please visit our web site at www.directv.com/pr.

Pardon my self-centeredness, but I don't give a rip about DirecTV customers who don't want to get the PAC-12 Network. I'm forced to pay for lots of channels that I never watch, but other subscribers do, so why can't those other subscribers pay for a channel that I will watch? 

In addition, the vast majority of games, and those with the most conference or national title implications, will instead be televised by the ESPN family of networks and ABC Sports, FOX Sports and FSN, FX, CBS Sports and CBS Sports Network, NBC Sport and NBC Sports Network, and several other regional services, all of which are available on DIRECTV.

First, I don't believe this "vast majority" stuff. But maybe you're right. What's annoying is your assumption that I should only be interested in games with "conference or national title implications." I guess this means DirecTV won't have any OSU games, since likely the Beavers will suck this year and have no chance at the Pac-12 title. Still, I'd like to watch them when I want to. So don't tell me which football games I should be interested in, when the Pac-12 Network will be televising all of them, to my understanding.

Our goal is to always strive to provide our customers the very best TV experience at the most reasonable cost, and so we would hope to provide Pac-12 Networks to the fans whom most want it without burdening non-sports fans with an unreasonable additional expense.  

OK. So do it. I'd be happy to pay 80 cents a month more for the Pac-12 Network. I leave that much in the tip jar at a coffee house when I buy a 16 ounce caffeine fix and a whole grain bagel. Just cut the crap with all that talk about "goal" and "hope." Simply do it! Sign a deal with the Pac-12 Network.

I appreciate the opportunity to assist you. 

And I appreciate the opportunity to sarcastically criticize you.

Whatever happened to the adage "the customer is always right"? I know that DirecTV is getting lots of pressure from subscribers to add the Pac-12 Network. Yet nothing has happened so far. 

Aside from subscribers jumping ship to another TV provider. Keep it up, DirecTV, and you'll learn how loyal to you your avid Pac-12 sports fans are. My prediction: not much.

Note: if DirecTV still doesn't have the Pac-12 Network by this weekend, check out a Washington State fan's humorous suggestions for what else you can do other than watch football. Such as Go to Michael's with your wife to get scrapbooking materials.

Yikes! Scary! Hope I don't have a nightmare about that tonight.

Speaking of nightmares, the Pac-12 Network is encouraging DirecTV subscribers to give their satellite service a fright by signing up with a competitor who does carry the network. Good for them. I suspect the Pac-12 Network is just as greedy as DirecTV, but my sympathies are with the Network, since I want to be able to watch every Pac-12 game, not just the ones DirecTV thinks I should want to watch.

Tell DirecTV you want the Pac-12 network. Now!

Saturday the OSU Beavers and Oregon Ducks start their football seasons. But us DirecTV subscribers won't be able to watch the Beavers on the Pac-12 network unless DirecTV works out a deal to get the channel.

Do it, DirecTV!

It wasn't long ago that we lost Comedy Central and other channels because of a corporate pissing match with Viacom. It was a pain in the butt to try to find The Colbert Report, Daily Show, and other necessities of life on Hulu or wherever.

Don't screw us DirecTV subscribers again with a Pac-12 Network dispute. 

If you're a DirecTV subscriber in Pac-12 land, head over to the Pac-12 Network channel finder to see if the channel is available to you yet. If it isn't, use the handy "I want it!" feature to send DirecTV a message. I just did.

Things are looking fairly positive for us football fans who have DirecTV. But pressure still needs to be put on DirecTV. They need to work out a deal BEFORE this weekend, not after.

Jack Reacher movie must show he's the toughest Jack

Back in 2006, after extensive watching/reading research, I concluded that Jack Reacher, ex-MP hero of the terrific book series by Lee Child, was tougher than Jack Bauer, terrorist battling hero of the terrific TV series "24."

In an unarmed mano-a-mano, you’d have to bet on Reacher. He’s 6’ 5” and about 250 pounds. Puny Bauer and his pussy martial arts moves would barely get Reacher warmed up.

I fondly remember one Reacher bar fight which began with him calmly sitting at a table. He’s confronted by half a dozen guys out to give him a bad time. Reacher suggests that they should take a hike. Their leader says, “If we don’t, what are you going to do?”

Reacher then describes in exquisite detail what will happen. “You and I are going to go out to the parking lot. You’re going to take a swing at me and I’ll break your jaw. Then you’ll take another swing and I’ll break your right kneecap. After that, I’m going to come back inside and finish my beer." Which, of course, is exactly what happened.

Bauer can handle himself in any sort of situation, but almost always he’s got a gun in his hand. In the last Lee Child book I read, “One Shot,” Reacher dispatches four well-armed guys (who seriously deserved to be dispatched) with just a knife. Bauer maybe could do that too, but he’d have to work at it harder than the other Jack.

Having read every novel Lee Child has published so far, I'm enthused about the Jack Reacher movie scheduled for release in late December, 2012. 

But Tom Cruise as Jack Reacher? Horrible casting mistake.

Maybe good for the box office, but no way is Cruise a believable Reacher to anyone, like me, who is intimately familiar with Reacher's (admittedly fictional) personality, demeanor, and overall macho'osity.

I'll try to keep an open mind, though.

Cruise might pull it off. He's just so damn small. And lacking the blunt brute force of Jack Reacher. Still, I can visualize Cruise's acting having the requisite cockiness. I just finished Lee Child's "The Affair," which I believe is the most recent Jack Reacher novel.

Loved it. The passages where Reacher deals with some tough southern rednecks are classic. Excerpts:

I looked at the alpha dog and said, "This is your plan?"

He didn't answer.

I said, "Four guys? Is that all?"

He didn't answer.

...I said, "It's a shame one of you isn't bigger. Or two or three of you. Or all of you, actually."

No answer.

Reacher advises them to rethink their plan and come back with dozens of guys, a big overwhelming force. Ending with: "I'll be here. Whenever you're ready." Later, they do come back. In a disappointing way for Reacher.

"Six of you?" I said. "Is that it?"

No answer.

"That's kind of incremental, isn't it?" I said. "I was hoping for something a little more radical. Like the difference between an airborne company and an armored division. I guess we were thinking along different lines. I have to say, I'm kind of disappointed."

Naturally it turns out that Jack Reacher was right. Six big rednecks was nowhere near enough manpower to defeat Reacher. However, he did get a little blood on his newly bought shirt. Not his own, of course. That irritated him. 

But didn't interfere with his diner "date" with the awesomely beautiful woman who serves as sheriff of the small town. Jack Reacher never loses a fight. Or a woman he wants to bed. He's the toughest and coolest Jack.

For sure. Don't blow it, Tom Cruise. Us Jack Reacher fans will never forgive you if you do. Sadly, the trailer for the Jack Reacher movie isn't encouraging. Cruise just doesn't have the Reacher vibe.

 

Great "Newsroom" speech: America isn't greatest country

Thank you, HBO. Thank you, Aaron Sorkin. Someone needed to say this -- no, scream it -- on nationwide TV.

The United States isn't the greatest country in the world.

Last night my wife and I watched the premiere of a new HBO series, "The Newsroom." Jeff Daniels plays a news anchor who can't take the bullshit anymore during a panel discussion and tells it like this country is.

Thanks to GQ.com, here's a transcript of the terrific mini-speech from How to Write an Aaron Sorkin Script, by Aaron Sorkin.

A song in a musical works best when a character has to sing— when words won't do the trick anymore. The same idea applies to a long speech in a play or a movie or on television. You want to force the character out of a conversational pattern. In the pilot of The Newsroom, a new series for HBO, TV news anchor Will McAvoy (Jeff Daniels) emotionally checked out years ago, and now he's sitting on a college panel, hearing the same shouting match between right and left he's been hearing forever, and the arguments have become noise. A student asks what makes America the world's greatest country, and Will dodges the question with glib answers. But the moderator keeps needling him until...snap.

Will 
It's not the greatest country in the world, professor, that's my answer.

Moderator 
[pause] You're saying—

Will
Yes.

Moderator
Let's talk about—

Start off easy. First get rid of the two noisemakers.

Will 
Fine. [to the liberal panelist] Sharon, the NEA is a loser. Yeah, it accounts for a penny out of our paychecks, but he [gesturing to the conservative panelist] gets to hit you with it anytime he wants. It doesn't cost money, it costs votes. It costs airtime and column inches. You know why people don't like liberals? Because they lose. If liberals are so fuckin' smart, how come they lose so GODDAM ALWAYS!

The use of inappropriate language has a purpose—the filter's off.

And [to the conservative panelist] with a straight face, you're going to tell students that America's so starspangled awesome that we're the only ones in the world who have freedom? Canada has freedom, Japan has freedom, the UK, France, Italy, Germany, Spain, Australia, Belgium has freedom. Two hundred seven sovereign states in the world, like 180 of them have freedom.

The fact-dump that's coming now serves several purposes. It backs up his argument, it reveals him to be exceptional (what normal person has these stats at their fingertips?), but mostly it's musical. This is the allegro.

And you—sorority girl—yeah—just in case you accidentally wander into a voting booth one day, there are some things you should know, and one of them is that there is absolutely no evidence to support the statement that we're the greatest country in the world. We're seventh in literacy, twenty-seventh in math, twenty-second in science, forty-ninth in life expectancy, 178th in infant mortality, third in median household income, number four in labor force, and number four in exports. We lead the world in only three categories: number of incarcerated citizens per capita, number of adults who believe angels are real, and defense spending, where we spend more than the next twenty-six countries combined, twenty-five of whom are allies. None of this is the fault of a 20-year-old college student, but you, nonetheless, are without a doubt, a member of the WORST-period-GENERATION-period-EVER-period, so when you ask what makes us the greatest country in the world, I don't know what the fuck you're talking about?! Yosemite?!!!

[Cell-phone cameras are everywhere— people are tweeting and texting away.]

Now we slow down and get a glimpse into his pain. The oratorical technique is called "floating opposites"— we did, we didn't, we did, we didn't... But rhythmically you don't want this to be too on the money. You're not just testing the human ear anymore; you want people to hear what he's saying.

We sure used to be. We stood up for what was right! We fought for moral reasons, we passed and struck down laws for moral reasons. We waged wars on poverty, not poor people. We sacrificed, we cared about our neighbors, we put our money where our mouths were, and we never beat our chest. We built great big things, made ungodly technological advances, explored the universe, cured diseases, and cultivated the world's greatest artists and the world's greatest economy. We reached for the stars, and we acted like men. We aspired to intelligence; we didn't belittle it; it didn't make us feel inferior. We didn't identify ourselves by who we voted for in the last election, and we didn't scare so easy. And we were able to be all these things and do all these things because we were informed. By great men, men who were revered. The first step in solving any problem is recognizing there is one—America is not the greatest country in the world anymore.

To resolve a melody, you have to end on either the tonic or the dominant. (Try humming "Mary Had a Little Lamb" right now, but leave off "snow." You'll feel like you need to sneeze.) So Will ends where he started. Then, just to acknowledge that he just sang an aria— which is unusual in the course of a normal conversation—he turns to the moderator who'd been needling him and casually asks...

Will 
[to moderator] Enough?

Here's a You Tube video that shows part of Will's truth-telling at the beginning. I sure wish we had more politicians who talked like this. They might not get elected, but I'd vote for them.

 

PETA now has a XXX web site. It's animalistic!

Way to go, PETA. You're making good use of the new .xxx domain option with www.peta.xxx

Personally, I wasn't turned on by seeing porn star Ron Jeremy featured on the home page, but my male eyes quickly turned leftward (natural for me) to an image of Sasha Grey -- another former porn star who supports the animal side of both humans and animals.

PETA enticed my throbbing attention deeper into the site with...

PETA is not new to the world of adult entertainment. In fact, we've been collaborating with some of the most legendary XXX stars for years. Thanks to the availability of .xxx domain names, we can now house all our adult content in one spot. Stick around and take a look at some of PETA's most sizzling ads of all time.

Have a look. Then read the reasons for PETA's naked ad campaigns.

Creative Portland marriage proposal gets Storm Large's "fuck, yes"

Since I'm a big fan of Storm Large, I wish I could obey her Twitter tweet.

My good friend Amy just got engaged, and..no pressure, boys...but this is how the fuck you do it. http://vimeo.com/42828824 

However, I'm already married.

And my proposal to Laurel some twenty-three years ago was horrible, compared to how the marvelously creative guy who put together this lip-sync'ed marvel did it. Very Portlandia'ish.

When I proposed to Laurel, it was so half-assed Laurel wasn't sure what I was saying. "Are you asking me to marry you?", she said. "Yes," I told her. Not exactly the stuff romance novels are made of.

Oh well.

I'm happy this woman got to enjoy such a great proposal. The look on her face (in the corner of the video) as she watches the dancers is wonderful. Congrats to Isaac Lamb and his bride-to-be. You showed me way up, Isaac. 

Good for you.

According to the Oregonian, your video has gone viral (gotten 1.4 million hits already) and national TV interviews await you. Couldn't happen to a better couple, judging by the six minutes I've known you via the video.

"Real-life Barbie" does appear to be a real woman

When I came across mention of a real-life Barbie on my Twitter feed, naturally my curiosity was aroused. I've always thought Barbie was hot (though my most ardent attraction is to a more mature, yet similarly curvaceous comic strip character, Blondie).

A 21-year-old girl, who has become an internet sensation in her home country of Russia, claims on her blog to be the most famed woman on the Russian-language internet.

Valeria Lukyanova's doll-like features, long blonde hair and 'perfect' body make her look like a real life Barbie.

In fact, with her tiny waist and large breasts, she bears such a resemblance to the famed plastic doll that cynical web users have been speculating about whether or not she is real.

After careful Googling, I've concluded that, yes, Lukyanova is for real. At least, as real as a Barbie-in-the-flesh produced by gobs of makeup and, most likely, plastic surgery can be.

Her Facebook page has so many photos and videos of her, it's difficult to believe that Lukyanona is purely an artifical creature. She's undeniably beautiful. Yet also a bit creepy, when she's in her full-on Barbie look.

Here's some more photos...

Video of father-daughter wedding dance I'm envious of

When my daughter, Celeste, got married, I wasn't the dancing fool that I am now.

By "fool," I mean that my dancing is more fun for me than it is artistic to look at; also that I now feel foolish for not having started to take ballroom lessons earlier than my wife and I did, because we really enjoy dancing.

If I had my father-daughter wedding dance to do over again, I'd love it to look like this one. I think I could handle most of the moves this fellow gray-haired guy throws out on the dance floor so engagingly.

His daughter is enjoyable to look at also. Congratulations father and daughter. You've brought smiles, and likely some joyful tears, to many people. 

 

Storm Large dazzles Salem in Oregon Symphony show

Last Friday my wife and I went to see the Oregon Symphony in Salem even though we don't like classical music. Or, usually, symphonies.

But Storm Large, Portland's rock goddess, was singing along with the symphony in "The Perfect Storm" show that moved to the Schnitzer Concert Hall this weekend. Which also featured rock violinist Aaron Meyer in the first part of the program -- another amazing performer.

Large was on her best behavior during her sultry lounge-singer sort of performance. She noted this near the end of her show, saying something like "Salem, I bet you were wondering what you were going to get tonight. But look! I didn't curse once. And I wore underwear!"

She was dressed elegantly in a slinky black dress, nicely made up in glittery eye shadow, her blonde hair neatly coiffed. But anyone who saw her sing on Rock Star SuperNova back in 2006 knows that Large has a whole other way of being "Ladylike" (her original song).

 

Storm Large's versatility is hugely impressive. Like Lady Gaga, she can play sophisticated nightclub singer or down-and-dirty rocker. I forked out for center seats, six rows back, in Willamette University's Smith Auditorium.

Good choice.

I loved being able to clearly see Large's expressive face. Not to mention her attractive body. In 2011 she took the place of Pink Martini's lead singer, China Forbes, who had vocal cord surgery. Here's a video of her singing with Pink Martini in her sophisticated style.

 

And then there's "8 Miles Wide" from her show Crazy Enough. Hint: she's not talking about the Grand Canyon, but rather, um, a intimate bit of womanly geography.

 

Friday night Large said she had a "kink" for love songs.

Especially for love songs about relationships that end badly. Even better... love songs about relationships that start badly. I loved her honest, pleasingly cynical, yet still hopeful attitude toward love. Yeah, it hurts. But oh so good.

A big audience pleaser was her unique rendition of "Hopelessly Devoted." Large said the original singer (Olivia Newton-John in Grease, I assume) got it all wrong. Large told us that if she was jilted by a jerk, she wouldn't be sitting on a swing, softly singing about the break-up. 

The guy would be duct-taped in an empty warehouse, his head over a toilet, getting what he deserved. 

 

Her emotionally honest approach to love is even more bluntly revealed in Large's wonderful "I Want You to Die." Great lyrics. Note to self: If you're ever reborn and somehow are on the edge of fulfilling your karmic desire to have a romantic relationship with a reincarnated Storm Large, don't!

For obvious reasons.

 

Storm Large is a fascinating personality. Seeing her perform close-up Friday night, I could tell that a complex, intelligent, highly engaging woman was singing beautifully with the Oregon Symphony.

In an interview with Rosie O'Donnell, Large talks about her childhood, her mentally ill mother, and forgiveness. Honest. Real. Super talented. That's Storm Large. Portland, and Oregon, is fortunate to have her.

 

"Motherfucking Bike" (almost) makes me want to ride one

I have a mountain bike. But I shun mountains, because they are so up'ity. Flat or downhill... that's my ideal bicycling terrain. 

Since we live in the hills of rural south Salem, this constrains my interest in bike-riding. But after watching "Motherfucking Bike," I was (almost) inspired to join the motherfuckingbike movement -- not that I have any idea what it is.

 

However, from the video I seem to be too old to join the two-wheeled non-motorized hipsters.

And my 63 year old sense of propriety -- what's left of it -- wonders if the lyrics to Motherfucking Bike are just a bit inflammatory, feeding in as they do to the stereotype of anarchist bicyclists ignoring traffic laws and claiming to own the road.

Of course, what else would you expect from from a video called Motherfucking Bike?

Here's the lyrics.

I rise in the morning, and greet the day
pull out the bike and I'm on my way
The transportation shows I care
Every turn of the pedal - cleans the air
Greener than green, I'm saving the planet
just like my friends Daryl, Sean, Toby and Janet
no greenhouse gas, a tiny carbon footprint up your ass
I'm on a motherfucking bike

Sharing my aggression is what that I do
Every day I'm riding the 'Tour de Fuck You'
Banging on hoods and kicking in fenders
a right-of-way-aholic on a permanent bender
Running red lights at the fat intersection
Cutout seat protects my erection
You like the bird, in my hand?
Take two from a motherfucking track stand on my bike
I'm on a motherfucking bike
I'm on a motherfucking bike

Skinny-ass pants, the 'stache is fat
the canvas kicks, the ear-flap hat
Got no gears so you best not dis me
yeah bitch, it's a motherfuckin fixie
Middle of the street is where you're gonna find me
a shitload of traffic backed up behind me
Critical Mass is a Facebook "like"
I'm on a motherfucking bike
I'm on a motherfucking bike
(horn and bell solo)

Young girls who dance like Tina Turner. What's up?

Today my wife, Laurel, and I got our first look at big-time children's dance competition. We spent most of the day watching the Los Angeles regionals of The American Dance Awards, held in Lake Elsinore, California at Lakeside High School.

Our four-year old granddaughter apparently was the youngest contestant, dancing in two six-and-under categories (small group tap and small group jazz).

We loved every moment of the dancing.

My daughter was fearful that we'd get bored with the all day competition. Early on she slipped me her car keys, figuring that Laurel and I would want to head someplace else while we waited for our granddaughter's dances, scheduled for 12:45 and 4:25 pm.

No way.

Aside from a lunch break, we were glued to our seats in the auditorium. After almost every performance I'd say things to Laurel like: "Wow!" "Amazing!" "Unbelievable!" "That looked professional!" "So cute!" and other exclamations of wonderment.

The dancers, mostly girls but also some boys, ranged in age from four to twenty-one. Their energy, skill level, enthusiasm, charisma, and overall watchability was exceptional. We expected to see some good dancing.

What we got was great dancing.

However, in case any parents of certain eight and under girls were sitting behind me, I want to explain why I laughed (not very loudly, but almost uncontrollably) during some of their performances. I wasn't laughing at their dancing, which was terrific.

What almost brought tears of hilarity to my eyes was the sight of little girls doing a highly credible impersonation of Tina Turner shaking it. 

Now, I'm old enough to have seen Tina Turner perform in person at the Winterland in San Francisco sometime in the late 1960's. At least I think that's where it was. Much of the 60's is a brain-blur to me, for reasons that should be obvious.

Young people can get a taste of Turner on You Tube, which includes being able to watch Beyonce perform "Proud Mary" at a Tina Turner tribute in a fashion that does Tina proud.

 

Today I was awestruck at how little girls just a few years older than my granddaughter could dance so Tina Turner/Beyonce'ish -- complete with "big girl" makeup, costumes, and pouty demeanor. At first my mind bounced back and forth between wow, that's so wrong! and wow, that's so right!

It didn't take long for me to settle in on so right!

The little girls clearly were enjoying themselves. They were getting to play dress-up on a big stage in front of an appreciative audience. They obviously had practiced long and hard. There wasn't anything remotely lewd or sexual about their dancing.

I just kept thinking, "Wow, you've come a long way, baby." Back in my California childhood days, few kids danced at all. We were forced to learn some square dancing during P.E. in high school, all prim and proper. 

Nobody would have believed that in 2012, girls eight and younger would be made up with lots of eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick, then shake their child bodies in glittery, skimpy outfits like twenty year-olds at a nightclub. But, hey, why not?

The kids I watched today were having fun. No matter what their age, it looked to me like the music they were dancing to, and their dance moves, were what they wanted to do. Sure, their dance instructors did most or all of the choreographing. They know, though, what appeals to children nowadays. 

Hip-hop culture, and it's jazzy variants, seemingly has spread to every dancing age group. I say, great. The dances I watched today brought smiles and energy to my social-security eligible body. Keep it up, kids. 

If you want to dance like Tina Turner, go for it. Even if you're five years old.

"The Artist" movie inspires me to... express myself!

When I first heard about "The Artist" (2011) I thought, "This is a movie that I should like, but won't." Black and white. Almost entirely silent, as regards speaking. French actors/director. An homage to films of the 20's and 30's.

I figured "The Artist" would be one of those films my wife and I go to at Salem Cinema because it's an artsy, indie movie that's getting a lot of attention. Afterwards we'd look at each other and say, "What was that all about?," then go home and watch something genuinely enjoyable on TV, like The Colbert Report.

Wrong. I was so wrong.

Last night we went to see "The Artist" with some friends. Loved it. Not only is it one of the best movies I've ever seen, it's one of the most memorable. There are quite a few scenes in it that I hope I'll never forget, and likely never will. 

Go see it, if you're able to. If not, put the movie on your Netflix queue, now. 

What grabbed me the most about "The Artist" was the incredible performances by the lead actors, Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo. Their faces are so wonderfully expressive. Their movements, equally so. Watch videos of the trailer and other clips. You'll see what I mean.

Words are important to me. As they are to everybody. We use so many of them every day, speaking, writing, reading. Yet...

"The Artist" showed how so much can be expressed in wordless bodily ways, either with or without accompanying words. Great actors like Dujardin and Bejo know how to do this. I was amazed at how easy it was to follow the plot of this movie with very few silent movie captions shown on the screen.

As with art, so with life. Do we really pay attention to body language, our physical surroundings, the sights, sounds, smells, and such which surround us every waking moment of every day? 

And do we freely express ourselves as we respond to all this sensory stimulation?

How much do we hold in, repress, keep under control? Sure, few of us are as engagingly attractive as Dujardin and Bejo. But everybody can let loose what is within through smiles, frowns, gestures, laughter, tears -- whatever feelings beg to be let loose from the emotional cage we often keep ourselves cooped up in.

A few days ago my wife and I took part in a two-hour meeting where everybody was upset about something or other. It wasn't pleasant. Yet it was satisfying. I got to express myself in ways I hadn't been able to before through emails and phone conversations.

I was pissed at how I'd been treated by some other people. Before the meeting started we were warned by the facilitator to "self soothe" if our feelings got too intense, to use "I" messages rather than accusatory language -- all that good counseling stuff.

When my turn came to say what I wanted in the five minutes allotted to me, the facilitator interrupted me partway through. "Too intense." "Too much energy." "Too much body language." 

At the time I tried to look contrite.

But at the moment, as now, I actually felt good that what I was feeling within me was being expressed so vividly to other people. If I'd felt OK with the crappy way I'd been treated by some members of the group, then I would have acted all calm, positive, and huggie-feely. I didn't though. What other people saw was what there was: irritation, dissatisfaction, a desire to change things for the better.

In "The Artist" the main characters go through lots of ups and downs. They don't keep their emotional reactions to these roller coaster rides of life a secret. They're expressed marvelously in ways both subtle and in-your-face.

I'm inspired. To do the same. To let what is within be shared without more freely, openly, energetically. Without words. With words. Whatever. However.

Not crazily; not hurtfully; not aggressively. Honestly.

Life is too short to be lived within cages of our own making. Dujardin's character, George Valentin, gambles on a self-financed silent film just as "talkies" are about to take over the movie industry. He fails at the box office. And succeeds as an artist, as a man, as a human being.

Here's Richard Roeper's A+ video review. 

 

"Portlandia" needs a comedy makeover

My wife and I live in Salem, a.k.a. "So-lame," Portland's dowdy, plain, uncool neighbor to the south. We wish our city could be half as ravishingly interesting as Portland is. No, one-tenth as interesting.

Heck, give us any little slice of Portland and we'd devour it hungrily. (Salem just got it's first Trader Joe's store, eons after Portland, Corvallis, and Eugene got theirs. We still don't have a true vegetarian restaurant, much less a vegan one.)

So we really want to enjoy IFC's "Portlandia."

We watched every episode of Season 1, chuckling only episodically. It kept seeming like Portlandia was on the verge of being a spot-on laugh-worthy satire of Portland's cultural quirks, but the cable series never got there.

I blogged last February:

The saying, Keep Portland Weird, is truthful.

Portland is weird in many wonderful ways. Once in a while Portlandia manages to successfully satirize those quirks, such as in the opening episode where a hipster couple grill their restaurant server about how happily the chicken they're considering ordering was raised.

Problem is, most of the time Portlandia is absorbed in its own self-reflective cinematic weirdness. It's sort of satirizing itself, which isn't funny. Meaning, typically the sketches don't make fun of some green/ environmental/ progressive/ cultural Portland excess, but are over-the-top in their own right.

Like, in the most recent episode, the mayor asking the main characters to form a baseball team, which they do in a wholly unrealistic manner. Or the sketch where the stars are chefs getting photographed for a magazine story, and start posing in increasingly bizarre ways.

What's that got to do with Portland? It was good acting, but ultimately uncomedic -- except in a "that was really weird" sense. Again, Portland's weirdness is getting lost in Portlandia's own weirdness, causing the original premise of the series to be forgotten.

Watching the first episode of Season 2, I feel that everything I said before still applies. Fred Armisen and Carrie Brownstein, the couple who appear in various guises throughout Portlandia, would start off with a promising sketch premise.

Greenies who consider they can pickle anything. Outdoorshumans who arrive at an air mattress-friendly river over-prepared for white water. A nightspot "mixologist" who is way too into the intricacies of cocktail preparation. 

In each case I was prepared to laugh at the humor in the situation. Playing the sketch more subtly, not desperately milking it for laughs, that would have been much more comedic than -- as noted above -- steadily ratcheting up the ridiculousness until the original premise got lost in excessive craziness.

The only part of the first episode that got my wife and me laughing out loud was the scene in a southern California restaurant where Armisen and Brownstein just want some simple food, and the waiter (oops, "server") keeps leading them through complicated menu options. 

I wish every sketch in Portlandia could be played like this one was. Most viewers could identify with the situation, having encountered similar trendy restaurants and best-friend servers. The dialogue was just slightly on the zany side of believable, not on the outer limits. I could easily visualize something like this ordering disaster actually happening.

But otherwise my wife and I kept asking each other, "Is that supposed to be funny?" For us, it wasn't. Hopefully Portlandia will find its groove in later episodes. Portland deserves to be made fun of. 

"House of Lies" resonates with our cynical souls

Damn you, Showtime! Last year I cancelled your half of our HBO/Showtime subscription, because you didn't have on anything we liked to watch. 

But last night we took advantage of DirecTV's offer to see Showtime premieres for free. And already we're hooked on "House of Lies." 

What's not to like about cynicism, sex, money-grubbing management consultants, dysfunctional relationships, and other reflections of reality? About halfway through the first episode, my wife said "This is our kind of show."

A quick review of some early reviews, here, here, and here, indicates that our enthusiasm isn't universally shared. Well, we're used to liking TV shows that others don't have the good taste to appreciate. (We still miss "Cop Rock.")

Keep it up, Showtime. Given all the explicit sex on the show, that shouldn't be difficult.

Stick with the stop-action scenes that some find corny. Stick with the profanity that offends delicate ears. Stick with the depiction of corporate CEO's as uncaring about the public good (the most unarguably truthful aspect of the show). 

My wife and I will be laughing with you. And, damn you Showtime!, paying another $13 a month, or whatever it is, for the privilege of feeding our love of cynicism.

Here's a promo that gives a feel for House of Lies; it starts after the 30 second intro.

[Update: "House of Lies" already is changing my life. Can't tell if it is for the worse, or for the better. That's the beauty of this show. Cynicism promotes a so what? moral ambiguity.

In my usual quasi-neurotic fashion, this afternoon I was mulling over the pros and cons of taking the last few pieces of a tasty tofu dish at the LifeSource Natural Foods deli area. A woman was standing beside me, spooning mashed potatoes into her container, seemingly glancing at how I was steadily depleting the tofu.

I considered leaving a few pieces for her, even though there barely was enough tofu for my wife and me to eat tonight. Then "House of Lies" came to mind. I thought, Screw it.

If it's OK for Don Cheadle to go to a strip club, pick up a dancer, persuade her to pretend that she's his wife during an important dinner meeting with a corporate client, and then get into a fight with the prospective client after the stripper gets it on with the guy's wife in the women's restroom, after which she tells her husband that sex with the stripper is way better than with him, which understandably puts the guy in a foul mood -- then damn it, I should be able to take the last few pieces of tofu at a deli without feeling like a sinner.

After I did just that, the woman said to me, "That tofu is really good. I bought some earlier today." Great decision, Brian, I told myself. It would have been stupid to sacrifice my tofu-desire when my fellow shopper didn't even want any. Plus, I enjoyed living on the edge, just like the characters in "House of Lies" do.

Today, taking the last pieces of tofu. Tomorrow, who knows how wild and even crazier I may become, spurred on by the example of "House of Lies."] 

Cavalia is a magical horse show -- Portlanders, go see it!

It's been quite an entertainment week for us. Fresh from seeing Cirque du Soleil's tribute to Michael Jackson at the Rose Garden, last Tuesday we headed to the Pearl District for Cavalia -- a horse show unlike any other. 

There's a connection between Cirque du Soleil and Cavalia: Cavalia's artistic director, Normand Latourelle helped Cirque du Soleil get off the ground and was bought out by the Cirque founders. This helps explain why the Cavalia experience is so similar to the magical atmosphere of Cirque du Soleil.

Well, the parking lot wasn't anything special. But the sight of the gigantic tents housing Cavalia was. I believe the main tent is one of the largest in the world. (All photos taken in dim light with my iPhone 4, which explains the quality of the pics.)

We splurged on Rendez-vous VIP tickets. Good choice. Before the show started we got to gorge on "free" food and drinks in the Rendez-vous tent. Plus, shop for Cavalia-themed merchandise. 

There were plenty of vegetarian choices for us. Pesto pasta, asparagus, hummus/pita bread, salad, and more. Plus good wine served up generously. Along with private VIP bathrooms so we Rendez-vous'ers didn't have to mingle with the plebeian Cavalia-goers when a call of nature was sensed.

Speaking of nature...

We got to Portland early to miss the worst of the late afternoon freeway tieups. Laurel headed to Whole Foods while I trekked to Powell's on Burnside, a Bookstore Wonder of the World. Browsing the new non-fiction section I ended up buying David Abram's "Becoming Animal: An Earthly Cosmology."

Also, Abram's first book, because I could tell I was going to enjoy "Becoming Animal" a lot. I started reading "The Spell of the Sensuous" while sipping a latte in Powell's Books coffee shop, waiting for Laurel to meet me.

The book was an excellent pre-Cavalia mood primer. Abrams starts off "The Spell of the Sensuous" with:

Humans are tuned for relationship. The eyes, the skin, the tongue, ears, and nostrils -- all are gates where our body receives the nourishment of otherness. This landscape of shadowed voices, these feathered bodies and antlers and tumbling streams -- these breathing shapes are our family, the beings with whom we are engaged, with whom we struggle and suffer and celebrate. ...The simple premise of this book is that we are human only in contact, and conviviality, with what is not human.

Such is what Cavalia is all about, the horse-human relationship.

Those who expect something else, like the people who left unjustifed "Much of the show was boring" comments on a Yelp review of a Cavalia show in Burbank, are going to miss out on a full Cavalia experience. 

My wife and I are decent horse riders, she more than me. So we probably were better suited than many in the audience to appreciate the astounding skills of both the humans and the horses in the show. The intimate communication between horse and rider/trainer was obvious, yet often difficult to discern explicitly, it seemed so natural.

Case in point: the woman in the second act who engages in a spectacular display of equine choreography with six horses, standing on the sandstrewn Cavalia stage with just her soft voice and a flexible "stick" to control the horses.

A dog trainer would be hard pressed to get six border collies to do what the stallions (or geldings) were accomplishing with seeming ease. Three would circle in one direction, while the other three would circle the other way. Then one horse would break out of the pattern and do something different. 

There's also quite a bit of non-horse performing in the show, probably because the horses need a break now and then. Some of the acrobatics and dancing didn't seem to have much connection with anything horse'ish, but that was fine with me.

Again, this isn't Cirque du Soleil. The non-horse stunts aren't the core of Cavalia. When a bunch of stallions gallop by after an acrobatic interlude, the energy of the show ramps up again.

After it was over, we Rendez-vous ticket holders got a tour of the stables. The horses were being fed, so most had their heads down, munching away, which made my iPhone photography kind of difficult.

(Note: if you also get a chance to walk through the stables, make sure you know how to turn your camera's flash off. It was irritating to see some people flashing away in horse's faces, even though they were repeatedly told "no flash photography.")

Each horse has its own quite-cushy stall. Here's Laurel gazing into one.

We saw a young woman braiding manes. She does a great job. That'd be a cool thing to put on a resume, "Mane braider for a touring horse show."

I didn't know horses got into postures like this. This young horse cozied up to the wall of its stall just like our dog does. Serena loves to curl up on her back, with her paws pressed against something solid.

When I came to a stall where the occupant was standing up and posing nicely, I had to take advantage of the opportunity.

Bottom line, Portlanders: go see Cavalia. It'll be in town until December 4. You'll enjoy it even if you aren't a super horse-lover, but it'll mean more to you if you are.

Here's some You Tube videos of Cavalia. Enjoy the two-dimensional experience, which naturally isn't the same as being there.

 

 

Last observation: quite a few Burbank complainers thought the Cavalia seating was very uncomfortable. We don't agree. The folding seats have backs, and they aren't painful "buckets" like some Yelp commenters said. Cavalia is a Canadian show. Probably the seats were designed for normal human bodies, not oversized/overfed American butts. 

Michael Jackson The Immortal World Tour -- we loved it! (and our VIP seats)

Last Friday we braved a few snow showers in Portland to reach the Rose Garden, where we had tickets to see Cirque du Soleil's "Michael Jackson The Immortal World Tour." Here's my five word review: Wow, Wow, and more Wow!

This show is special. It isn't like a good movie where you enjoy it a lot, but the impact of the flick fades quickly. I'm still affected by this magical production. 

It starts strong, and builds from there.

Eventually I felt immersed in an almost other-worldly experience. Understand, I'm not at all religious. But "Michael Jackson The Immortal World Tour" has moments that can only be described as deeply spiritual -- though not at all godly.

Some performances in the show are manly powerful. Others are womanly delicate. This reflects the dual nature of Michael Jackson. And, heck, of ourselves, whatever our yin/yang blend is.

I came away from the show with several life insights affirmed and strengthened. Diversity, creative self-expression, pushing the personal edge, daring to be different, acting confidently -- this is a big part of what life is all about.

Maybe the entire part. Michael Jackson showed this; so does the Cirque du Soleil tribute to him.

My wife and I decided to blow some of our Social Security income on VIP tickets. If you're considering doing the same, my advice is do it, if possible. But not for the rather cheesy gift bag, which is the only non-seating VIP benefit we got, aside from "free" parking.

On the positive side, I'm pretty sure that we and our fellow VIP'ers had the choicest seats in the arena. This alone is worth the extra VIP cost, in my utterly subjective opinion. We were seated near the runway that projects out from the main stage, about two-thirds of the way down (that is, closer to the end of the runway than the beginning).

Perfect, because much of the show takes place on the runway.

We had great views of the performers, close enough to clearly see their expressions, costumes, makeup, athleticism, dancing ability, and hot bodies. Sure, images of them were projected onto a screen above the stage, but that isn't as good as seeing the performers up close and personal.

I don't know if my wife heard all of my frequent "I can't believe it!" and "Wow!" utterances, since we were wearing earplugs. This is another theme of the show, one shared with all Cirque du Soleil productions: what we human beings are capable of doing, and being, is far beyond the everyday normal.

That's inspiring. Most of us can't run away and join the circus. But everyone can be all that he/she can be, which probably is quite a bit more than what we allow to be expressed.

One of the most mind-blowing performances was by champion pole dancer Felix Cane, who also was high on my personal hot body ranking. I can't begin to describe what Felix can do with a tall pole. Her body and athletic ability border on the miraculous.

(Note: my wife questions whether Felix Cane is the woman we saw in the show. I'll agree that the pole dancer at the Rose Garden performance seemed shorter than Felix. But the moves in this video look just the same as what the dancer we saw did. And Felix is listed in our program.)

Check her out:

 

And here's the Official Preview of the show:

  

 

What "Salemia" taught me about myself (and Salem)

Wow!

Only about six hours left until the premiere of "Salemia," an event that has been eagerly awaited in Oregon's capital -- by those involved with the film, at least -- since the notion of a response to "Portlandia" was birthed from the fertile comedic mind-wombs of local filmmakers Mike Perron and Dave Jenkins.

(Check out Part 1 of an Q & A interview by Emily Grosvenor with Mike and Dave on her Desperately Seeking Salem site.)

After shamelessly sucking up to Mike and Dave through a series of fawning blog posts, and stammering through an audition last February at a "Salemia" casting call, I was thrilled to get a small role as a crusty transient, the precise smallness of which will be revealed at the premiere this evening -- 7:45 pm, Grand Theatre, advance tickets available at Travel Salem or Salem Cinema.

Checking out recent Twitter tweets from "Salemia" cast members, it's obvious that a certain amount of utterly understandable nervousness is in the air, or more accurately, the minds of amateur actors having yin/yang emotional anticipations:

It'll be wonderful to see myself in the film
It'll be horrible to see myself in the film

Well, what I've learned from my involvement with "Salemia" is that being concerned with wonderful and horrible is a creative process downer. 

As a writer/author, I knew this already. But my brief acting experience in front of a camera hammered home that lesson in a fresh fashion. Driving home after the filming on a cool, rainy April day, my inner critic kept telling me You could have done better; why didn't you do/say X instead of Y?

After awhile I told my alter (or super) ego, Shut the fuck up! Sure, I would have liked to do some things differently, to relive certain filming moments. But moments never can be redone or relived. Life only happens once. 

To look back is to miss the present moment. Art is about what's happening now, fully expressing what is present in that happening moment. 

And not only art: life as a whole. For example, I'd love it if Salem was a cooler, hipper, more energetic and interesting place than it is. "if's" aren't reality, though. Only "is" is (at the risk of sounding like BIll Clinton).

What we have to deal with is what can be expressed now. Our only choice is how fully to engage ourselves.

My old friend, synchronicity, paid a visit this morning as I was reading "How to Believe in Nothing." Here's a story by author Michael Misita that resonated with my inner aspiring actor, as also with my inner aspiring liver of life.

Expressing one's self can be frightening for most people. I remember an acting class I attended many years ago in New York City. The two actors on stage were doing one of the most boring scenes I had ever witnessed. It wasn't the fault of the material they were performing; it was them.

"What do you think you're doing up there?" the teacher asked them.

After a long pause, one of the actors shyly suggested, "Acting?"

We all laughed.

"We're trying to be real," added the other actor. "I don't want to over-act."

"What do you people think real is?" the teacher inquired. "Certainly not the behavior most people display in their everyday lives. Out there, everyone is repressed, and you think that is an example of real life? As actors, it is our responsibility to express ourselves in a way that everyday people do not because they are too self-conscious. You're not here to be self-conscious. A little over-acting would do you a world of good and hold your audience's attention a whole lot more. They don't pay to come to the theater or go to a movie to see what they can see in their everyday lives. They come to the theater to feel something. They come to see someone express themselves in a way they feel they cannot. Everyone wants to express himself but almost everyone is deathly afraid to do it."

There was momentary silence in the room, then the teacher said, "Now, start the scene again, and for God's sake, give it some life. Take some chances, show some passion, stop playing it safe. Express yourselves!"

Great advice. Mike and Dave have done just that with "Salemia." Kudos and congratulations to them. May all Salemites be inspired to follow in their creative footsteps and do as advised above:

Take some chances, show some passion, stop playing it safe. Express yourselves!

This is what Salem needs. Heck, this is what we all need.

"Smash" -- another great Willamette Univ. Theatre play

If you live in the Salem, Oregon area and enjoy going to plays, check out the Willamette University Theatre offerings. For a long time my wife and I had season tickets to Pentacle Theatre, but we came to yearn for edgier, less predictable plays.

Belatedly, we discovered Salem Repertory Theatre; unfortunately, just before SRT went out of business. Liking the SRT style (basically, anything goes), we were enthused with the first Willamette University Theatre production we went to, "Aquitania."

I didn't understand it, which I assumed meant that it was a deep, thought-provoking, mind-blowing play. Regardless, I'd rather be confused by a play than be bored by it.

"Smash" is the kickoff to Willamette University Theatre's (WUT) new season. It's based on a George Bernard Shaw novel about socialism. Up until intermission I didn't understand Smash very well either. But that's one reason intermissions exist.

So a woman can explain to her significant other (a.k.a. confused husband) what is really happening in the play.

In my defense, there are a lot of words in Smash.

I had the feeling that (1) the playwright, Jeffrey Hatcher, wanted to get a lot of thoughts across in a limited time, and (2) the WUT actors wanted to express those many thoughts rapidly in believable English accents so the audience members would be immersed in a flow of oft-complex verbiage which would carry them along in more of a feeling than thinking drama consciousness vessel.

Or maybe my brain just wasn't working very well during the first act.

Support for that hypothesis is found in the fact that when we walked into the lobby at intermission and I told my wife "This play is really hard to make sense of," she replied, "What are you talking about?"

Laurel agreed with me that the rapid-fire English accents could be tough to decipher at times. But in quick succession she cleared up a number of questions that had me baffled through much of Act 1.

(My wife is a retired psychotherapist, so it isn't surprising that she could pick up on narrative subtleties or obvious'ties which eluded me.)

For example...

Q. Why doesn't Henrietta recognize the husband, Sidney, who left her at the altar, post-marriage, when all he's done to disguise himself is grow a mustache?
A. She does! Didn't you get this? She obviously recognized him, but she didn't want anyone else to know this.

Q. Why did Henrietta say that would-be socialist Sidney disappeared because he was abducted, rather than speaking the truth: that he left her at the altar because he feared that marriage would dilute his pro-socialist zeal?
A. What did I just tell you?! Henrietta can't let on to her father, or anyone else, that she recognizes Sidney, so the abduction story was made up.

Intermission went on in this vein.

I was pleased to have Smash explained to me, but my male ego was pretty much, well, smashed by the time Act 2 started.

I started to worry about my general ability to understand human interactions, but then rationalized away that anxiety by telling myself that most people in my life don't have English accents, and they don't talk as fact as the WUT actors.

Embarassingly, after the play was over my wife -- rather gleefully -- got to explain to me what "Smash" alluded to, after I'd expressed my meta-perplexity about the title of the play.

The lesson for me here, which I'll take to heart, is to read the entire Director's Notes before a play starts, instead of using the restroom. (Or ideally, getting to a play early enought to do both.)

Laurel had remembered reading that Hatcher wanted to show how becoming too "preachy" about a social cause can be as off-putting as a Jehovah's Witness at your door. Yes, socialism or semi-socialism or slight-socialism has a lot of pluses. However, trying to smash those who resist what you're advocating usually isn't the best way to influence people.

My wife and I both thoroughly enjoyed Smash (me, especially after I understood it, more or less).

We were impressed with the fine acting of each and every member of the cast. I thought Josh Rice did a particularly good job playing Sidney, though the dramatic expressiveness of Margaret Smith, who played a girl's school headmistress, also was hugely entertaining.

It was refreshing to be exposed to a play that we'd never heard of, yet was about a subject that is as topical today as it was back in the late 1800's: how to change the world without being a total asshole about it.