Week 6 - Pittsburgh Steelers 2009

The Steelers are tied for first place with the Bengals in the AFC North. Fine. Not happy, but fine. Ben does not lie when he says there is still need for improvement. I'm giving the big side-eye to Bruce Arians for not establishing and sticking to the run, especially when Ben and the receiving corps can land TDs in such convincing fashion. I don't like airy-fairy teams. You can beat airy-fairy teams. A powerful running back and/or slick running scheme combined with a talented quarterback gives defenses fits. That's all I'm saying. For now.

Another area I'm not happy about is special teams. Last year, I dry-heaved when the Steelers had to punt the ball because the punt kicker was so lousy. You just knew that the other team was going to have more than good field position. Well, Sepulveda healed and is back to form. Now, it's the field goal attempts that are making my stomach flippity-flop, especially when we're on the road. Pittsburgh should have beat Chicago in Week 2, and Jeff Reed's whiffed kicks contributed mightily to that loss. I was shocked that he whiffed TWO kicks. That's not acceptable.

There's a report from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette that Reed got into another drunken scuffle on Sunday. WTF. Now, I know that Reed is a bit of a bon vivant (and by that, I mean drunky) and it's really not any of my business. It's his life, and he's old enough to accept responsibility for his decisions. With one caveat. Hangovers and the other negative physical effects of heavy drinking better not be the reason for the lack of leg in Chicago.

It is a well-known fact that I'm not the biggest fan of kickers. I can only think of two I actually admire. Obviously, Gary Anderson. I wasn't happy when the Steelers let him go to find a bigger free agency check. It's not easy to find a dependable kicker in the NFL, much less a kicker you can count on in big game, clutch moments. But, I just took a deep breath and repeated my mantra, "In the Rooneys, I trust."

The other kicker I truly enjoyed as a football fan was Kevin Butler (ironically, he played with the Chicago Bears). I don't have a clear sense of how good of a leg he had, but what I appreciated most about Butler was that he was a decent tackler...for a kicker. Born and raised in central Pennsylvania, I could tackle before I could walk. So, when I see pitiful tackles during games it only arouses disgust and scorn. Kickers and quarterbacks are the worst offenders. (The worst tackle I have ever witnessed was by Chad Pennington when he was still with the Jets. The opposing team was running for gold after a turnover, and Pennington made a fierce lunge at some invisible blocker five feet away from the person who actually had the ball. Pathetic.) Which is why during this year's draft I viciously questioned the validity of kickers:

Kindhearted commentator, probably Mooch: "Punters are people, too."
Me: "Yeah, but are they football players?"

I'm not an impatient fan who judges players based on "yeah-but-what-have-you-done-for-me-lately." I'm still rooting for Limas Sweed to step up and prove why he should be wearing black and gold for five more years, despite the tantalizing potential that is Mike Wallace (I'm already calling him 60 Minute Man.) If Reed has become less reliable because of a substance abuse problem, I fully expect the Steelers to demand a treatment plan to help him return to the excellent form we're used to seeing. If Reed's whiffing is due to a "case of the frat boy who can't let go of partying," I fully expect someone to correct that situation (and by that, I mean put a foot up his ass).

Best New Show THIS Fall - glee

g l e e

1. Jane Lynch
Hers is the best performance in Role Models. She always brings the amazingness to Party Down. She brought Ricky Bobby into this world. I've always wondered who was tougher: Christy Cummings or Dick Cheney (I think we know now with Cheney whining on tv more than Glenn Beck.) Now, I have the ultimate battle: Cummings vs. Sylvester. Damn. Tomorrow's brunch topic.

2. Sue Sylvester
There is no one more menacing or luminous in an Adidas track suit. I've got to admire anyone who can make people cry by just staring them down.

3. Emma
If I could get a man to agree to live across town, never admit our union, and expect zero sex, I'd get married, too. Last week's brunch topic-- Would Emma get it on with Will despite her OCD issues? The consensus was "Hell, yes. Horny + true love trumps crazy." Then, the conversation devolved into "Could she be a virgin?" and "How would she do it?" I'm still puzzling over it.

4. Writing
My favorite episode still is "Preggers." Kurt's coming out combined with the hilarious football dancing blows everything out of the water so far. I know football. My family knows football. If that actually happened on a field, it would be mindblowing...and legendary. People would talk about it for 100 years. It was just on the edge of believable. When your team has been that winless for so long, desperation makes you turn to extreme measures. Just ask the Titans.

Every episode is quoteworthy. For about a year, I've been stopping my boss in her tracks by exclaiming "But, Dad! It's Shark Week!" when she makes unreasonable requests. I do it for mundane demands, too. I can see her going down the checklist: not her dad, not even a man, what the hell is shark week, what does it mean, why does she keep saying it, and
is she being insubordinate. (Oddly enough, it has a similar effect on my pharmacist. He was a bastard during my recovery from dental surgery, and I'm the kind of bitch that never forgets. Never.) Now, I randomly throw out "Your resentment is...delicious." The "WTF" face lifts the burden of drudgery every time.

5. The covers.
More often than not, they're stellar. I downloaded "Hate On Me" despite iTunes' price-gouging fuckery. It's the only song I've been playing for the past three straight days. It just passed Nina Simone's "Feeling Good" and is creeping up on #1 Marlena Shaw's "Go Away Little Boy." It joins the list of songs I've mercilessly replayed for a disturbing amount of time, including the aforementioned Shaw ditty (dirty thing); Sass' rendition of "Mean to Me" (college thing); another Shaw tune, "Loving You Was Like a Party," (heartbreak thing); and the black vaudeville chestnut,
"(You've Got the) Right Key But the Wrong Keyhole," (grandmother thing). It also makes the list of songs that talk me down from viciously slappin' white people, including "Fight the Power" (college thing); "Man in Black" (daddy thing); "A Change Is Gonna Come" (Obama thing) and "Rise Up Shepherd" (human thing).

At this point, nothing will make me download anything from Be-dunc-ye. Not even Kurt, the boy who works angora better than Sandra Dee.

6. Its potential
There is so much talent, audacity and bounce in this show to launch it to a stratosphere of excellence that will result in the obliteration of America's celebration of mediocrity and blandness. Yeah, I'm namechecking Jay Leno.

Plus, its a tasty vehicle for TV viewers to use as a giant "Fuck You" to NBC.

Open letter to Jeff Zucker:
I'm going to ask you to smell your armpits.
That's the smell of failure, and it's stinking up my tv listings.

Is anyone else still mourning Brandon Tartikoff?

In My Own Quiet Way

Right after talking up “Random Roles,” the section decides to serve up the shittiest installment ever. David Duchovny’s on-screen careeer goes under the microscope, and they only managed to mention six roles: “Hank Moody,” Californication; “Mike Klein,” The TV Set; “Tom Warshaw,” House of D; “Bill/Gus,” Full Frontal; “Dr. Ira Kane,” Evolution; and “Fox Mulder,” The X-Files. Yikes. No Red Shoe Diaries. No Henry Jaglom. No Rapture. Double yikes.

What A.V. Club taketh, they’ll try to make-uppeth with other awesomeness. Oswald Patton gives a great interview where he makes a bold statement saying that current television is hitting it out of the park artistically. Hmmm. I double-taked at that one. All I see on TV is craptastic American Idol, irrelevant idiots so desperate for attention they’ll learn the bossa nova, and other atrocities committed in the name of reality programming. But, Patton sees Warren Beatty strapped in a chair being visually bitch-slapped by the U.S. government.

“Oh yeah. What’s really odd now—trust me, I love doing movies, but right now, television is the way Hollywood was in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. The dream era I would have loved to have been part of in Hollywood then is happening right now, but it’s happening on television, with these big complicated story arcs and real character-driven shows and sheer ambiguity left and right.”

Patton goes on to name-check or discuss United States of Tara, Caprica, Breaking Bad, Damages, The Venture Bros., Tim and Eric, The Wire, Deadwood and Battlestar Galatica. As Patton puts it, “Every genre is being re-thought.” I haven’t seen most of these shows, but I’ll co-sign on Deadwood. ( I miss you Al Swearingen, you stalwart cocksucker, you!) Notice that none of these shows are from the Big Three Networks. I’m not sure if Damages is from Fox or FX. Whatever. Fox still ain’t legit due to their paltry support of talent and for making Paula Abdul a topic of conversation.

Patton gives the best praise of The Wire I’ve ever read. Which is saying a lot because there are a lot people who lose their shit over this show.

“What’s brilliant about The Wire was, it starts out as a cop show, and just becomes its own genre of ‘This is about an entire city.’ It’s almost like…what did James Joyce say about either about Dubliners or Ulysses? If Dublin were ever destroyed, you could rebuild it from the books. If Baltimore were ever wiped out, you could rebuild it by looking at The Wire.”

Patton is comparing it to frickin’ James Joyce. That makes sense. I’ve never read him either. I’ll sit down with the opus that is The Wire after I wade through Ulysses. Isn’t one of those Joyce titles a stream-of-consciousness retelling of one guy’s day while he jacks off on the beach? Pffft. I flee from dead white male authors. Actually, they can be dead or alive. It’s the “white male” part that curdles anticipation. They’ve been in power for eons and writing/singing about themselves for nearly all that time. What’s there left to say after The Ramones?

Back to Oswald. The interview is given to promote his new movie, Big Fan. The film peeks in on the life of a diehard Giants fan after a tumultuous interaction with one of his football heroes. One of the film stills displays his character wearing a t-shirt proclaiming, “DALLAS SUCKS.” Dallas and NY Giants are in the same division. Ergo, they loathe each other. On the other hand, Dallas DOES suck. It’s just truth.

I probably could relate to this character on some level, but just barely. Let’s face it, the Giants are NFC and have only won two Superbowls—not SIX. Patton’s fan is described as a classic type of fan:

“In a way, Paul seems like he’s almost this old-school enthusiast, because it’s not the Internet or the Twittering or the text-messaging. It’s just flat-out, ‘I will go and worship this team in my own quiet way.’ Which is a very real way, but it’s almost a form that’s dying out now. Rob sees that type of fan sort of flickering a little bit.”

Well, I was raised in a traditional Black and Gold home. Daddy said you weren’t a real Pittsburgh fan until you punched a Cowboys fan in the face. My “confirmation” took place in the spring of 1977. Some chucklehead new to the playground (his dad had just been transferred from Chicago) was boasting about America’s Team (italics = sneer). Oblivious to the dead silence and a million stink-eyes being thrown his way, he kept nattering on about how Dallas was superior, one reason being their cheerleaders. Something about a dozen Farrah Fawcetts with pom-poms. Ugh. I was a raging feminist at the time as well as your typical Steelers fan. I sauntered up, planted my feet, and socked him square on the nose. I’m not sure if that is what Patton means when he says “quiet way,” but it works for me.

Patton brings it all back to the beginning by comparing his character to the protagonists of those films from the golden age of cinema, “I loved that about the script. It’s like a lot of the movies from the ‘70s, where they kind of embraced the fact that people don’t fucking change.”

Which brings me back to the shittiest entry ever for “Random Roles.” I raged for a weekend about the lameness of the Duchovny coverage. Finally, I went back and the first thing in the Comments section is from Noel Murray who conducted the exchange:

“I was given 15 minutes to talk to Mr. Duchovny, which I stretched to 20. Given time, I would've asked about TWIN PEAKS, RED SHOE DIARIES and KALIFORNIA.”

Aaah, so, Patton's correct. People don’t fucking change. Duchovny’s still a dick. I’m assuming there was some assiness being pulled by the subject. I could be wrong. He could be that busy (doubtful). Maybe we can go try a redo when he’s older, divorced and his career is in the dumps. Then, we might get some meat to this entry, and less gristle. I would love to hear his impression of the young Brad Pitt, and someone needs to confront him about the decade of Jaglom. Was it that or the soft-core porn (Red Shoe, y’all) that irretrievably damaged his ego? I’m betting on Jaglom because Mickey Rourke survived Wild Orchid (barely) and got an Oscar nom. But, Rourke has an ocean’s reserve of talent and doesn’t have to rely on looks and a nonchalant delivery of quips

My Favorite Things...Right Now (August 2009)

"Keanu!"

1. AV Club (www.avclub.com) --- pop culture criticism courtesy of The Onion, I think. I'm not in lockstep with the overall attitude (they're those annoying kids who quote The Simpsons, Arrested Development, and Caddyshack all fuckin' day), but they offer some well-written insights with the snark. Oh yeah, the personal memories make an addictive touch. I can't stand the commentators, though. Not as bad as Gawker's, but real bloody close. The top features I enjoy are "Commentary Tracks of the Damned," "I Watched This On Purpose," and "The New Cult Canon." But, the feature I physically crave and which has the best potential to make me plotz is "Random Roles." OMG. An actor/actress is taken down memory lane (aka imdb page) to illuminate all of their roles be they career-making, iconic, or obscure. Take for example the intro for Matthew Modine:
   "The veteran actor talks about the exhaustion of working with Stanley Kubrick, why Geena Davis might as well have worn a strap-on for Cutthroat Island, and the meaning of life." Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Please.
2. The Closer --- Awesomeness on Monday nights. I can only pray that Tarantino is a fan, and drops in to write and direct an episode. The murders and crimes take a backseat to the human drama, especially in the fifth season. The entanglements and politics in the squad room are handled well. Watching Brenda work her way under, through and around obstacles is a joy. Don't we all wish we had her gumption? Provenza's skill in trickery rivals hers, and I'm loving the natty ties. I only ask that we get more Mama and Daddy. Or, let's get a looky-loo at Brenda's sibling/s. Charlie was good, now let's bug the hell out of the brother and wife.
3. my mom's macaroni salad, saltines, and strong Persian tea --- Quite possibly, the most perfect meal. I love how two of the whitest foods in existence get combined with tea that could rule the world.
4. Lifesavers Gummie Sours --- They rolled this product out in spring with a soft run. I think. Either that, or CVS is a motherfucker. Anyway, I tried a bag then and dug it to the max. They combined the seductive allure of sweet rubber with the tart freshness found in a roll of Lifesavers. And, then rubbed it up and down with sugar granules. Plotz. Lo and behold, the powers that be decided they could make moolah, and now I can skip to my CVS and get it any time I want. I fell in love with the classic fruit flavors, but recently tried a Wild Berry variation. Believe it, it can get better! It's heavy on the tartness. But here's the genius potential of Wild Berry. Afterwards, my throat burned for a bit. (Like when I slam tequila. Awesome.) Then, my belly burned for a bit. (Like when I sip expensive whiskey. Double Awesome.) I'm intrigued. I need to perform another taste test and determine if gobbling this candy simulates some of the effects of hard liquor.
5. Cash Cab (Discovery channel) --- The first I heard about this show was when I was stuck in a dorm with a bunch of young things (I'm an "olds"...obviously.). They were nattering about it one afternoon, and that night I strolled across to a Dunkin' Donuts for late night brew. I'm in there waiting for coffee, with about four other "olds." But, there's a teenager with two of them. He suddenly bolts up and rushes out the door. "It's the Cash Cab! Cash Cab!" Me and the remaining "olds" stand there bemused. They're thinking "What the hell is the Cash Cab?" I'm thinking "Weird. I just heard about it today, and bing! it appears. Note to self: tell the young 'uns tomorrow." When I did inform them, they immediately jumped all over me for not getting in it. First, I knew more than the rest of the "olds" in the DD, but I was still fuzzy about the details. Two, the teenager was begging and negotiating for a ride when I left with my extra-large black coffee. Three, I had nowhere to go as my accommodations were right across the street. Fast forward to now, I finally caught a few episodes and I'm hooked. It's fun to waste a morning watching people score either cash or a free ride in New York.
6. my thigh squisher --- Discovered while shucking. It's not as obscene as Suzanne Somers' golden calf. My thingy looks like a giant IUD sheathed in turquoise polyethylene. I'm squeezing 100 reps with my thighs, then working my arms for another 100. It zooms in on that armpit flab and pulverizes it.
7. Quentin Tarantino's voice --- Inglourious Basterds. The quotes and stories used to publicize it. Death Proof on cable. Kill Bill, Vol. 1 and Kill Bill, Vol. 2 for-bloody-ever. The amazing soundtracks. And, now Mr. Tarantino dropped some impassioned arguments for The Jacksons...not The Jackson 5, no, he means The Jacksons, you hear me? It's on iTunes as a celebrity podcast. Amazingingness.
8. birthday playlist --- I always scramble up a playlist for my birthday month. I'm especially enjoying this year's version, "August Flux." I deliberately chose stuff that didn't have high play counts. There's a total of 205 songs, but here's a random pull of ten: "Take Yo' Praise," Camille Yarbrough; "Gone Daddy Gone," Violent Femmes; "Impressive Instant," Madonna ("I like to singy, singy, singy. Like a bird on a wingy, wingy, wingy." Classic.); "I Don't Want to Know (What I Don't Want to Know)," Mike Gunther and His Restless Souls; "Nothing Takes the Place Of You," Toussaint McCall; "Sugar, Sugar," Ike & Tina Turner; "Small Planet," Ferraby Lionheart; "Can't Get Out Of This Mood," Chris O'Connor; "The Day I Found Myself," Honey Cone; and "What It Feels Like For A Girl," Madonna (again! of course).
9. playing "Keanu!" on the cable guide --- For trivial reasons, a friend and I daily crawl through the cable listing guide on our TVs. More often than not, we're together when we do this. We started to notice that we could always find a Keanu Reeves movie playing somewhere. This led to a discussion of whether he gets paid from all this play, which folded into the topic of how many movies he's made that people like to watch repeatedly. We then ruminated that he always plays lovers, never husbands or fathers. Then, we started to compare/contrast the careers and private escapades of Mr. Reeves and Mr. Clooney. Now our favorite timewasting endeavor is counting the many films of Keanu Reeves being broadcast (we cry out his name as we spy his flicks). We've been playing for months. Only twice did we come up with bupkis. The highest count was six. And, yes, when we're in a good mood, we count Clooney's movies, too. Yikes.
10. Meryl Streep --- Movie stars can save lives. I was prostrate on my living room floor sinking into a heat stroke after swanning about town in oppressive heat. I'm about to black out, and then I hear the lilting tones of Streep. She was giving promo for some movie she's done. She's ensconced between Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin. Utterly compelling and adorable at the same time. I was revived. Thank you, Meryl Streep.

Illustrating Poetry

"I don't like jellyfish"
by Karl Pilkington




Emily Dickinson didn't use titles, either.

My Favorite Things...Right Now (May 2009)

1. My Boys – It makes me howl.
“Decathlon, Part Deux” Season 3, Episode 4
Dream Team vs. Angola
Steak burrito and an orange drink.
Bacon AND sausage.
"I love you, Kenny, but stop naming your sneakers."
I knew it was Sampras.
“Powering Down”
“My skin has never felt better.”
“I know, right!?”
Radiohead > Coldplay (high five!)
Cheez-its > Cheese Nips (duh!)


2. my ginormous Coke glass – Lil John wishes he could drink with this thing. I think I dropped 10 lbs. guzzling water from it.


3. Sarah Vaughan – The voice that is perfect for welcoming spring.


4. cleaning – I’m scrubbing, sorting and chucking out the useless. I even found a pair of shoes, y’all! It’s been so long, they’re quite au courant.


5. brown sugar, nutmeg, and ginger – I don’t know how healthy it is but it’s a damn tasty snack.


6. The Real New York Housewives – I always thought Brown was the weakest in the Ivy chain, but now I’m giving Columbia a good up-and-down. Concerned alumni (that’s a side-eye to you, President Obama) need to research that so-called degree of Kelly Bensimon, and draft a PR release. I mean that Sleestak is ruining your name. Is it time to revert to King’s College?


7. ESPN map polls – Hot diggity! These suckers are fun. Especially when American and a small, small world agree with me.


8. Karl Pilkington’s theory of evolution – I recently watched Nova’s episode on a possible new species, which would rewrite the evolution of humans. Giggled nonstop because I could only hear Karl’s explanation of a planet full of brains, some of whom fell to earth one day, and “Thud!”, creep into monkey’s brain. Karl Pilkington, you ask?


9. Scott Cohen – This is a shout out to an outstanding performance in The 10th Kingdom, and being my favorite disposable Lorelai boyfriend (Luke is forever). Holy Moly, though. I really believed this guy was a wolf.


10. Grace Makutsi – I’m seriously considering using her as a fashion template. With a few tweaks here and there, of course. No polyester. No pink. And, my earrings will swallow Rotterdam.


11. my ratty orange cardy – I’ve got to fix all the holes. It’s a masterpiece of lava-like wool, incandescent buttons and grosgrain.

Forget About St. Peter, Just Send Bea Arthur

I don't need St. Peter to meet me at the gates. One, I'm not Catholic and saints don't impress me. Just send Maudie in a glorious pantsuit with cocktails. We'll skip the pleasantries and get straight to the dish.

I don't have much use for Jezebel.com. I hesitate to call them feminists--they don't seem to have the balls, and they usually err on the side of "cutesy." But, they served up a good tribute to Bea Arthur, her characters, and their impact on pop culture. The clips are excellent, too. Another memoriam piece that was a cut above the rest was in the LA Times. They explained why we won't see another like Ms. Bea Arthur again. I would have loved to see Tina Fey go toe to toe with the Incomparable Maudie. That's the closest female comedic performer who might have had a chance against that baleful stare. Or, Amy Poehler.

Bea Arthur listed three influences on her career:

"Sid Caesar taught me the outrageous; (method acting guru) Lee Strasberg taught me what I call reality; and ('Threepenny Opera' star) Lotte Lenya, whom I adored, taught me economy.''


That's a hell of a gumbo. If I had to list three influences for myself, I would say #75, Muhammed Ali, and Madonna. Probably why I'm not in comedy.

God will get you for that, Walter.

The amazingly talented Bea Arthur passed away today. Gulp. That lady could really deliver a line. She played Dorothy on the insanely popular "Golden Girls," but I loved her most as Maude. Television from the Seventies had the best theme songs, and one of the best was "And Then There's Maude" sung by Donny Hathaway. I busted out for that theme song. I loved how it name-checked famous ladies, and then encouraged you to yell out for Maude over and over.

I asked my mother once if she had any regrets about the way she raised me. She said the only thing she'd change is her constant attempt to mold me into ladylike and "quiet" behaviour. Looking back, she thought life would be easier for me if I learned how to curb my mouth and gentle my eyes. She says now that she was mistaken because 1) life is hard no matter what, so "go, girl, go" 2) I seem to be able to handle the consequences of being outspoken and 3) it was a futile mission from the get-go and she only garnered wrinkles and gray hairs for her trouble.

And, I am mouthy. Overriding my mother's priority on decorum, the power of feminine sass was given to me by the aunties, Florence Johnston, and then there was Maude! If you risked her displeasure, she would lovingly growl, "I'll rip your heart out." I wish I could bask in that growl one more time.


Maude was awesome, and that was due to the talent of Bea Arthur. She went on to play Dorothy and gained even more admirers. No doubt that show was hilarious, too, with the riposting between Dorothy and Ma; Dorothy and Herb; well, Dorothy and everybody. Another performance that is worthy of mention is Ms. Arthur in the film version of Mame playing Vera Charles, the original Patsy (get in line Joanna Lumley).

May she rest in peace.
With a never-ending pitcher of martinis.

Bea Arthur
May 13, 1922 - April 25, 2009

My Favorite Things...Right Now

No particular order.

1. Peeps -- Chocolate is for pussies, I prefer to mainline my sugar.

2. The Fall (directed by Tarsem, starring Lee Pace and Catinca Untaru) -- Visually stunning; plot is in freefall, so don't try to hang on; Mr. Pace gets sexier and stronger each time I see him; Catinca! Catinca! Catinca! I would follow follow follow you to all the ends of the world world world.

3. Dlisted (www.dlisted.com) -- If you have to ask...just go there.

4. George Clooney’s eyelashes -- Have you noticed how long they are? Just when I think I can designate him a "Freebie" and let the unicorn go, he turns into profile--gasp!--again, I dance with the horned white devil and think "Lifetime."

5. “Glorious Day,” Weezer -- For the giant waves.

6. “Roomful of Blues” -- For the 5-inch heels.

7. stiff spring breezes -- holla, New England!

8. B.U. Men’s Hockey -- OMFG!!! Best college hockey game EVER!!!!!! NCAA Champs, y'all! And, BC still sucks.

9. fuckwits who jump into polar bear cages -- I would have let that woman get eaten, just shepherd the crowd away so no one has to watch. Did you see Bearsie grab her ass for a last bite? By the way, it's too late...she has offspring.

10. Merry Christmas, y’all! -- By the way, it's too late...she has offspring.

When the bear bites
When Georgie stings
When I feel itches
I simply remember my favorite things
And then ya know I'm back, bitches!