Tuesday, September 29, 2009
A Single Prosaic Thought
Every time we watch a drama, comedy, or whatever, we're really just enjoying watching people go through terrible things. In a tragedy, people go through terrible things and then die. In a comedy, people go through terrible things and then get married at the end, or whatever. In a drama, people go through terrible things that they conquer in the last reel. The only genre that's nothing but watching people go through pleasurable things is porn. And that's kind of a different thing entirely.
Things I Hate: Most Forms of Male Facial Hair
I hate most forms of male facial hair. I've broached this topic before, but I haven't given it the sort of hard-hitting, hyperbolic, irrational, unfair exploration that has made me famous among a handful of people who already knew me.
I think the main thing I hate about most forms of male facial hair (henceforth known as "facial hairstyles") is that it always seems that the wearer is trying too hard. Or maybe it's that facial hairstyles go in and out of fashion so much, and people should know from looking at old pictures that today's hip look is always tomorrow's laughingstock. I'm not sure why it is exactly, but I am sure that a weird facial hairstyle usually means that the person is a douche.
There are acceptable facial hairstyles. Full beards are fine, because they are well-established over the centuries and don't connote anything in particular. I guess they sometimes mean "I am a professor," but not always, and hey, being a professor isn't necessarily a bad thing. And if you have the balls to grow one really long, like some Russian noble from the early 1600s, well, then you're the man. Now that's retro.
Big bushy Magnum P.I.-esque mustaches are acceptable, because they're funny. They're so hopelessly out of style that, if you have one, you've committed yourself to wearing a joke, all day, every day, and you have to admire that kind of gumption. Other facial hairstyles make men look like jokes, but the men aren't in on the joke, see, and they think they look hip, so that's just annoying. I doubt many guys with big, bushy mustaches really think they look hip, and if they do, well, that's all the funnier.
Pretty much all other facial hairstyles are horrible. In fact, I think they should all be renamed ("rebranded," if you will. Will you? No? OK, well, I don't blame you.) with disgusting, hateful names. I think if they're paired with nasty images through terrible names, the true nastiness of the styles will break through their pretensions of hipness like rays of fetid sunlight. Then, ideally, people sporting these forms of facial hair will be ridiculed using these new names, and then those people will commit suicide, and we'll rid ourselves of an entire generation of douchebags. That's the plan, anyway. So here's the first one:
1. The soul patch is now "Upside-Down Hitler Mustache."
See that douche in the picture on the right? By wearing the upside-down Hitler mustache, he is sending a secret signal that he hates Jews and wants them exterminated from the earth. That's what it means as of this moment, anyway. So the next time you see a guy on the street with a so-called soul patch, go up to him and shout, "Why do you want to kill all Jews?!?!" I do it constantly, and I've only been arrested a few dozen times. It's the least I can do to help rid the world of the upside-down Hitler mustache (and, as an added bonus, free the world of bigotry).
As an aside, a stand-up comedian (can't remember who) once noted how amazing it is that Hitler was able to make a certain mustache unusable forever. I mean, that's some remarkable evilness -- he was so evil that whatever he chose to put on his face would be destroyed for everyone. Idi Amin, Pol Pot -- sure they exterminated milions, but did they kill a hairstyle? I think not! Bunch of wannabes. Saddam Hussein even had some silly facial hair (the aforementioned Magnum P.I.-esque mustache), and no one even considered banning it forever. Hm, maybe he wasn't so evil after all. Crap, we shouldn't have invaded Iraq! Geez, now we figure it out!
Wait a minute, here -- maybe naming a facial hairstyle something unflattering isn't going far enough. Maybe you have to commit genocide to really get one banned forever. Well, I guess a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Any recommendations for an ethnic group I should cleanse? Anyone care about Norwegians? Bunch of smug, blond-haired, blue-eyed devils. And hey, because of the blond, blue-eyed thing, they're the kind of folks that Hitler would have loved, so you get the anti-Hitler demographic on your side right there. I think this could work.
But you know something, to really commit genocide, and do it right, it takes organization. And time. And I have so many things on my plate already right now. My wife and I are thinking about having kids, getting a house, watching more TV -- I don't see how I can squeeze a campaign of ethnic cleansing in the mix. Ah, forget it. Back to the name-calling.
2. That hair-only-on-the-edge-of-the-chin thing is now "The Mangy Lincoln".
The picture I got on the right isn't the most egregious example -- worse is when it's some slickster with a perfectly groomed line of hair trailing around the edge of his jaw, like a long line of ants in a daisy chain (another name idea: "Long Line of Daisy-Chaining Ants").
I guess this isn't the most offensive name possible, but I think have to get the mange in somewhere with one of these names. The mange is such a wonderfully sad and disgusting disease that fits so well with a lot of these facial hairstyles. I guess pretty much any facial hairstyle could be called "The Mangy Lincoln." Except a full beard. And a mustache wouldn't work for that either, since Lincoln didn't have one. Maybe a mustache is a "Reverse Lincoln"? Nah, not insulting enough.
3. The long-line-of-hair-down-the-middle-of-the- bottom-lip-and-chin thing is now "The Stripper's Pussy."
Sorry, I know this name's especially offensive, but just look at this guy. We have to fight fire with fire here, folks. This is baseball player Scott Speizio, who is the douchiest douche in doucheland, and he needs to know that his face looks like a stripper's pussy.
Not that I've actually seen any strippers in real life, with nether regions exposed or otherwise. I've honestly never been to a strip club, and I doubt I ever will. This is partially because I don't have many douche-y male friends, but also because strip clubs sound like the world's most depressing places to me. I doubt many of the strippers could really enjoying doing the whole stripping thing, so that's depressing right there. And the guys, to enjoy the show, would, I assume, have to think in some primitive part of their lizard-brains "Hey, this chick wants me," which is also very depressing, because it's so unbelievably untrue. Strip clubs seem like places for sexually abused women to perform for sexual abusers. So you can understand why I'm loath to go. Plus, the music probably sucks.
4. The bushy goatee is now "Your Momma's Pussy."
Again, I apologize, but my crudeness is a necessary means to a noble end. Actually, goatees are so mainstream that I hesitate to even really object that much, much less give it the most offensive name so far. But the shoe fits -- dude on the right, your face looks like your momma's pussy. Sorry, bushy goatee-wearers (not to mention their moms, who are really blameless in all this, but you can't make an omelette without breaking eggs).
Another thing that makes you look like a douche, I just realized, is posing for a picture with a "serious" look on your face. This guy seems to want you to think, "wow, he's deep and sexy and sexydeep, which is a new word I just invented because nothing else can capture how sexy and deep he is." And of course, to me, that always translates to "I am a douche."
5. The spare, wimpy goatee is now the "Your Stripper Momma's Pussy."
I make no apologies for this one. This is perhaps the worst facial hairtsyle of the bunch, and it deserves what it gets. "Your Stripper Momma's Pussy" is actually probably too tame. Maybe "Your Crabs-Infested Stripper Momma's Pussy"? I could go on but I won't. But again, I do have some reservations since the stripper mommas are blameless here -- they're only trying to put themselves through Harvard, right?
On a related topic, you know what else I hate? Restaurants with belly dancing. Call me sexually repressed if you like, but when I'm eating dinner with my family, I really don't want to see some middle-aged chick's pelvis rolling around in my face. The worst is when they come by the table and ask how you liked the show. You have to nod encouragingly and say "Oh, great. Nothing like undulating pale flesh when I'm eating tabouli."
I got into an argument once with a vehement woman (she was always vehement about something) about this, and I never really recovered from it. We were at a restaurant with belly dancing, and I was asking why this is acceptable. Isn't this an exploitation of women, for the sexual titillation of men? The vehement woman exploded, saying that was very sexist of me to say that, so I cowered whimpering in the corner and that was basically the end of the argument. But I wish I could have defended my position better.
Because really, what's the difference between belly dancing and stripping? A few clothes? I know, I know, belly dancing is a skill that you have to develop and takes muscle tone and yadda yadda -- but so does pole dancing. You're telling me you can jump on a pole, splay your legs around it, hold yourself upside down with your legs, slide down slowly, release your legs, and then do a hilarious puppet show with your labia (again, I haven't been to a strip club, so I'm not exactly sure what goes on there) without doing some serious calisthetics?
I think belly dancing is only acceptable because it's "ethnic." Ancient Middle Eastern harem-havin' guys had belly dancing, so instead of being nasty sexual exploitation, it's a cultural expression.
But, you say, what if women want to express their sexuality through belly dancing? Well, OK, yeah, I guess they have every right to -- but is there a way they could do it when I'm not eating? And not in a place where men are supposed to hoot and holler and put dollars in their clothes like a bunch of baying jackals with lots of disposable income? 'Cuz I may be just a simple country boy, but where I come from, that's called "hegemonic patriarchy commodifying female sexuality to gain feelings of power and sexual gratification."
I'm not sure how a discussion of facial hair turned into a rant about belly dancing, but there you go. That's what bad facial hair does to me. You see the pain and confusion it causes? So men, please, stop with the trendy facial hair. In fact, just stop being trendy at all. Everyone just wear and do the same things all the time. It's just easier that way.
I think the main thing I hate about most forms of male facial hair (henceforth known as "facial hairstyles") is that it always seems that the wearer is trying too hard. Or maybe it's that facial hairstyles go in and out of fashion so much, and people should know from looking at old pictures that today's hip look is always tomorrow's laughingstock. I'm not sure why it is exactly, but I am sure that a weird facial hairstyle usually means that the person is a douche.
There are acceptable facial hairstyles. Full beards are fine, because they are well-established over the centuries and don't connote anything in particular. I guess they sometimes mean "I am a professor," but not always, and hey, being a professor isn't necessarily a bad thing. And if you have the balls to grow one really long, like some Russian noble from the early 1600s, well, then you're the man. Now that's retro.
Big bushy Magnum P.I.-esque mustaches are acceptable, because they're funny. They're so hopelessly out of style that, if you have one, you've committed yourself to wearing a joke, all day, every day, and you have to admire that kind of gumption. Other facial hairstyles make men look like jokes, but the men aren't in on the joke, see, and they think they look hip, so that's just annoying. I doubt many guys with big, bushy mustaches really think they look hip, and if they do, well, that's all the funnier.
Pretty much all other facial hairstyles are horrible. In fact, I think they should all be renamed ("rebranded," if you will. Will you? No? OK, well, I don't blame you.) with disgusting, hateful names. I think if they're paired with nasty images through terrible names, the true nastiness of the styles will break through their pretensions of hipness like rays of fetid sunlight. Then, ideally, people sporting these forms of facial hair will be ridiculed using these new names, and then those people will commit suicide, and we'll rid ourselves of an entire generation of douchebags. That's the plan, anyway. So here's the first one:
1. The soul patch is now "Upside-Down Hitler Mustache."
See that douche in the picture on the right? By wearing the upside-down Hitler mustache, he is sending a secret signal that he hates Jews and wants them exterminated from the earth. That's what it means as of this moment, anyway. So the next time you see a guy on the street with a so-called soul patch, go up to him and shout, "Why do you want to kill all Jews?!?!" I do it constantly, and I've only been arrested a few dozen times. It's the least I can do to help rid the world of the upside-down Hitler mustache (and, as an added bonus, free the world of bigotry).
As an aside, a stand-up comedian (can't remember who) once noted how amazing it is that Hitler was able to make a certain mustache unusable forever. I mean, that's some remarkable evilness -- he was so evil that whatever he chose to put on his face would be destroyed for everyone. Idi Amin, Pol Pot -- sure they exterminated milions, but did they kill a hairstyle? I think not! Bunch of wannabes. Saddam Hussein even had some silly facial hair (the aforementioned Magnum P.I.-esque mustache), and no one even considered banning it forever. Hm, maybe he wasn't so evil after all. Crap, we shouldn't have invaded Iraq! Geez, now we figure it out!
Wait a minute, here -- maybe naming a facial hairstyle something unflattering isn't going far enough. Maybe you have to commit genocide to really get one banned forever. Well, I guess a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Any recommendations for an ethnic group I should cleanse? Anyone care about Norwegians? Bunch of smug, blond-haired, blue-eyed devils. And hey, because of the blond, blue-eyed thing, they're the kind of folks that Hitler would have loved, so you get the anti-Hitler demographic on your side right there. I think this could work.
But you know something, to really commit genocide, and do it right, it takes organization. And time. And I have so many things on my plate already right now. My wife and I are thinking about having kids, getting a house, watching more TV -- I don't see how I can squeeze a campaign of ethnic cleansing in the mix. Ah, forget it. Back to the name-calling.
2. That hair-only-on-the-edge-of-the-chin thing is now "The Mangy Lincoln".
The picture I got on the right isn't the most egregious example -- worse is when it's some slickster with a perfectly groomed line of hair trailing around the edge of his jaw, like a long line of ants in a daisy chain (another name idea: "Long Line of Daisy-Chaining Ants").
I guess this isn't the most offensive name possible, but I think have to get the mange in somewhere with one of these names. The mange is such a wonderfully sad and disgusting disease that fits so well with a lot of these facial hairstyles. I guess pretty much any facial hairstyle could be called "The Mangy Lincoln." Except a full beard. And a mustache wouldn't work for that either, since Lincoln didn't have one. Maybe a mustache is a "Reverse Lincoln"? Nah, not insulting enough.
3. The long-line-of-hair-down-the-middle-of-the- bottom-lip-and-chin thing is now "The Stripper's Pussy."
Sorry, I know this name's especially offensive, but just look at this guy. We have to fight fire with fire here, folks. This is baseball player Scott Speizio, who is the douchiest douche in doucheland, and he needs to know that his face looks like a stripper's pussy.
Not that I've actually seen any strippers in real life, with nether regions exposed or otherwise. I've honestly never been to a strip club, and I doubt I ever will. This is partially because I don't have many douche-y male friends, but also because strip clubs sound like the world's most depressing places to me. I doubt many of the strippers could really enjoying doing the whole stripping thing, so that's depressing right there. And the guys, to enjoy the show, would, I assume, have to think in some primitive part of their lizard-brains "Hey, this chick wants me," which is also very depressing, because it's so unbelievably untrue. Strip clubs seem like places for sexually abused women to perform for sexual abusers. So you can understand why I'm loath to go. Plus, the music probably sucks.
4. The bushy goatee is now "Your Momma's Pussy."
Again, I apologize, but my crudeness is a necessary means to a noble end. Actually, goatees are so mainstream that I hesitate to even really object that much, much less give it the most offensive name so far. But the shoe fits -- dude on the right, your face looks like your momma's pussy. Sorry, bushy goatee-wearers (not to mention their moms, who are really blameless in all this, but you can't make an omelette without breaking eggs).
Another thing that makes you look like a douche, I just realized, is posing for a picture with a "serious" look on your face. This guy seems to want you to think, "wow, he's deep and sexy and sexydeep, which is a new word I just invented because nothing else can capture how sexy and deep he is." And of course, to me, that always translates to "I am a douche."
5. The spare, wimpy goatee is now the "Your Stripper Momma's Pussy."I make no apologies for this one. This is perhaps the worst facial hairtsyle of the bunch, and it deserves what it gets. "Your Stripper Momma's Pussy" is actually probably too tame. Maybe "Your Crabs-Infested Stripper Momma's Pussy"? I could go on but I won't. But again, I do have some reservations since the stripper mommas are blameless here -- they're only trying to put themselves through Harvard, right?
On a related topic, you know what else I hate? Restaurants with belly dancing. Call me sexually repressed if you like, but when I'm eating dinner with my family, I really don't want to see some middle-aged chick's pelvis rolling around in my face. The worst is when they come by the table and ask how you liked the show. You have to nod encouragingly and say "Oh, great. Nothing like undulating pale flesh when I'm eating tabouli."
I got into an argument once with a vehement woman (she was always vehement about something) about this, and I never really recovered from it. We were at a restaurant with belly dancing, and I was asking why this is acceptable. Isn't this an exploitation of women, for the sexual titillation of men? The vehement woman exploded, saying that was very sexist of me to say that, so I cowered whimpering in the corner and that was basically the end of the argument. But I wish I could have defended my position better.
Because really, what's the difference between belly dancing and stripping? A few clothes? I know, I know, belly dancing is a skill that you have to develop and takes muscle tone and yadda yadda -- but so does pole dancing. You're telling me you can jump on a pole, splay your legs around it, hold yourself upside down with your legs, slide down slowly, release your legs, and then do a hilarious puppet show with your labia (again, I haven't been to a strip club, so I'm not exactly sure what goes on there) without doing some serious calisthetics?
I think belly dancing is only acceptable because it's "ethnic." Ancient Middle Eastern harem-havin' guys had belly dancing, so instead of being nasty sexual exploitation, it's a cultural expression.
But, you say, what if women want to express their sexuality through belly dancing? Well, OK, yeah, I guess they have every right to -- but is there a way they could do it when I'm not eating? And not in a place where men are supposed to hoot and holler and put dollars in their clothes like a bunch of baying jackals with lots of disposable income? 'Cuz I may be just a simple country boy, but where I come from, that's called "hegemonic patriarchy commodifying female sexuality to gain feelings of power and sexual gratification."
I'm not sure how a discussion of facial hair turned into a rant about belly dancing, but there you go. That's what bad facial hair does to me. You see the pain and confusion it causes? So men, please, stop with the trendy facial hair. In fact, just stop being trendy at all. Everyone just wear and do the same things all the time. It's just easier that way.
Friday, September 25, 2009
What Was This Summer's Tolerable Pop Song?
As I get older, I get less and less connected to pop music. I'm sure that happens for everyone. But the difference with me is that when I do watch some awards show or something, I'm not all "What is this crap? In my day we had good music, like 2 Live Crew! And Gerardo!" I'm often more like "OK, well 80% of this stuff sucks, but that's always been the case. The other 20% here is actually quite good! How about that!"
And each summer I discover that I really like at least one artist that is eating up the pop charts (is that the right phrase? Is it "heating" up the pop charts? "Beating" up the pop charts? "Shooting" up the pop charts? "Shitting" up the pop charts? I like "shitting up the pop charts.") Last summer it was MIA, who I've been a fan of for a while. The previous summer it was Gnarls Barkley. They (not he) are awesome, even if they have the worst band name in the history of music. (Can you think of another that's more confusing while also being terribly un-clever?)
This summer I don't recall any pop artist being tolerable. Of course, I'm not paying a lot of attention. Oh, I did actually like the Beyonce song, the one in which she was proposing that everyone who likes her hand has to put a ring on it (does she have some kind of wonderful hand or something? I thought she was more famous for the more interesting parts of her anatomy. Unless she's secretly saying that if you like her ass you should put a ring on it? I've never heard of ass rings, but I am 100% sure that they will become all the rage very soon).
And by the way, Kanye was right. Beyonce should have won for that. That was such a great video that even I saw it. I'm not saying he should have rushed the stage like a lunatic and said so, of course. Though I do genuinely love bizarre interruptions in live TV. If Kanye had run up and said "Wu-Tang is for the children!" (see below video to catch reference) then I'd be totally behind him. But he kinda pissed on Taylor Swift right in front of her, and defended someone who wasn't interested in being defended, so that's kinda weird.
That's all I have to say. I'm more interested in what other people felt was this year's tolerable pop act. While you're thinking, here's the late, great Ol' Dirty Bastard just being Ol' Dirty Bastard:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b2-5GSjZvW8
And each summer I discover that I really like at least one artist that is eating up the pop charts (is that the right phrase? Is it "heating" up the pop charts? "Beating" up the pop charts? "Shooting" up the pop charts? "Shitting" up the pop charts? I like "shitting up the pop charts.") Last summer it was MIA, who I've been a fan of for a while. The previous summer it was Gnarls Barkley. They (not he) are awesome, even if they have the worst band name in the history of music. (Can you think of another that's more confusing while also being terribly un-clever?)
This summer I don't recall any pop artist being tolerable. Of course, I'm not paying a lot of attention. Oh, I did actually like the Beyonce song, the one in which she was proposing that everyone who likes her hand has to put a ring on it (does she have some kind of wonderful hand or something? I thought she was more famous for the more interesting parts of her anatomy. Unless she's secretly saying that if you like her ass you should put a ring on it? I've never heard of ass rings, but I am 100% sure that they will become all the rage very soon).
And by the way, Kanye was right. Beyonce should have won for that. That was such a great video that even I saw it. I'm not saying he should have rushed the stage like a lunatic and said so, of course. Though I do genuinely love bizarre interruptions in live TV. If Kanye had run up and said "Wu-Tang is for the children!" (see below video to catch reference) then I'd be totally behind him. But he kinda pissed on Taylor Swift right in front of her, and defended someone who wasn't interested in being defended, so that's kinda weird.
That's all I have to say. I'm more interested in what other people felt was this year's tolerable pop act. While you're thinking, here's the late, great Ol' Dirty Bastard just being Ol' Dirty Bastard:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b2-5GSjZvW8
Saturday, September 19, 2009
My New Least Favorite Commercial
So I watch a lot of MLB Network, which is a new channel that doesn't have a ton of viewership. Therefore, they only have about three commercial sponsors on the whole station, and the same three ads cycle endlessly.
Unfortunately, one of the sponsors is Pizza Hut, whose latest attempt to kill people with pizza is one with a crust made of cheese, or something. I'm not exactly clear on it, because I literally have to turn away in horror every time the commercial comes on. It involves the ex-comedian Jim Breuer saying "Jackpot!" over and over again, in increasingly annoying ways. It's a nakedly obvious attempt to start a catchphrase, but fails spectacularly.
It also serves to kill Jim Breuer for me -- if you don't know who he is, he's a sleepy-eyed guy who was on "Saturday Night Live" for a while, best known for his Joe Pesci impression. He was always sort of a frat-boy comedian, a la Dane Cook, but I dunno, I guess I still thought he was OK. No more. He's dead to me. And hopefully, soon, to everyone else.
One quick digression: Have there actually been any nationwide catchphrases lately? Is that a lost art? I remember when every other ad featured a catchphrase that was a nationwide phenomenon. From "Bo Knows Baseball," to "Wassssaaaaap," our young nation was bound in common bond, inviolable and sacrosanct, by the catchphrases that gave voice to our deep and fundamental need to collectively beat jokes into the ground. I was reminded of this recently as I overheard a coworker -- a well-meaning and sociable fellow, I should disclaim -- say "Wassssappp! Remember that ad?" to someone else in the office. It wasn't as annoying as you might think -- it was more of a painfully sad spectacle of desperate, deeply ruined whimsy, like watching a grungy, grinning clown make balloon animals for spare change in a crackhouse.
Admittedly, I'm so ensconsed in my own little world of my wife, fantasy baseball, and whatever's in our Netflix queue, that I probably remain completely ignorant of nationwide catchphrases and suchlike. But it would be interesting if catchphrases were dead. And they say we're going through a tough time in this country! C'mon America, we kicked our catchphrase habit! Turn that frown upside down!
But back to annoying ads: I also remember a time when I had a list of companies whose ads were very annoying. I vowed to boycott those companies until their ads became less excrutiating (which is kinda pointless, actually, because they were all companies whose products I didn't buy anyway, that or I'd just forget). But this Pizza Hut is the first in ages that has brought out that level of revulsion in me. Why is that? Have I mellowed? (Not bloody likely -- recently I cursed out some people at Enterprise Rent-A-Car -- long story.) Or have commercials just gotten better? It might be that plus the fact that I watch fewer commercials, what with Netflix and a DVR. And hey, America, yet another reason to c'mon and get happy: Look at yourself now. Now think back to about eight years ago. Aren't you watching fewer TV ads than you did then? Doesn't that put a smile on your face?
I'm adding this to my list of The Good News (Referring to Problems That Have Been Solved in America and Thus Contrast with Bad News -- Not Referring to Jesus, Who's Good and All, but Let's Be Frank, He's Not Exactly "News"):
1. Acid rain (solved, from what I hear)
2. Hole in the ozone (not exactly solved, from what I hear, but much less of a problem, all due to smart government regulation of the offending chemicals -- all in all, good reason to think the government can have a positive influence on global warming)
3. Serial killers (As I pointed out in an earlier post, when was the last time you heard about a serial killer? But in the '90s, the country was lousy with them.)
4. Violent crime (obviously not solved, but down dramatically since the mid-'90s)
5. Annoying TV ads (not abolished, but down to a trickle, in my view)
I'm sure there are more, but those are the ones that come immediately to mind. I think it's important to review these Good News items so we don't get too discouraged. Anyone got others?
Unfortunately, one of the sponsors is Pizza Hut, whose latest attempt to kill people with pizza is one with a crust made of cheese, or something. I'm not exactly clear on it, because I literally have to turn away in horror every time the commercial comes on. It involves the ex-comedian Jim Breuer saying "Jackpot!" over and over again, in increasingly annoying ways. It's a nakedly obvious attempt to start a catchphrase, but fails spectacularly.
It also serves to kill Jim Breuer for me -- if you don't know who he is, he's a sleepy-eyed guy who was on "Saturday Night Live" for a while, best known for his Joe Pesci impression. He was always sort of a frat-boy comedian, a la Dane Cook, but I dunno, I guess I still thought he was OK. No more. He's dead to me. And hopefully, soon, to everyone else.
One quick digression: Have there actually been any nationwide catchphrases lately? Is that a lost art? I remember when every other ad featured a catchphrase that was a nationwide phenomenon. From "Bo Knows Baseball," to "Wassssaaaaap," our young nation was bound in common bond, inviolable and sacrosanct, by the catchphrases that gave voice to our deep and fundamental need to collectively beat jokes into the ground. I was reminded of this recently as I overheard a coworker -- a well-meaning and sociable fellow, I should disclaim -- say "Wassssappp! Remember that ad?" to someone else in the office. It wasn't as annoying as you might think -- it was more of a painfully sad spectacle of desperate, deeply ruined whimsy, like watching a grungy, grinning clown make balloon animals for spare change in a crackhouse.
Admittedly, I'm so ensconsed in my own little world of my wife, fantasy baseball, and whatever's in our Netflix queue, that I probably remain completely ignorant of nationwide catchphrases and suchlike. But it would be interesting if catchphrases were dead. And they say we're going through a tough time in this country! C'mon America, we kicked our catchphrase habit! Turn that frown upside down!
But back to annoying ads: I also remember a time when I had a list of companies whose ads were very annoying. I vowed to boycott those companies until their ads became less excrutiating (which is kinda pointless, actually, because they were all companies whose products I didn't buy anyway, that or I'd just forget). But this Pizza Hut is the first in ages that has brought out that level of revulsion in me. Why is that? Have I mellowed? (Not bloody likely -- recently I cursed out some people at Enterprise Rent-A-Car -- long story.) Or have commercials just gotten better? It might be that plus the fact that I watch fewer commercials, what with Netflix and a DVR. And hey, America, yet another reason to c'mon and get happy: Look at yourself now. Now think back to about eight years ago. Aren't you watching fewer TV ads than you did then? Doesn't that put a smile on your face?
I'm adding this to my list of The Good News (Referring to Problems That Have Been Solved in America and Thus Contrast with Bad News -- Not Referring to Jesus, Who's Good and All, but Let's Be Frank, He's Not Exactly "News"):
1. Acid rain (solved, from what I hear)
2. Hole in the ozone (not exactly solved, from what I hear, but much less of a problem, all due to smart government regulation of the offending chemicals -- all in all, good reason to think the government can have a positive influence on global warming)
3. Serial killers (As I pointed out in an earlier post, when was the last time you heard about a serial killer? But in the '90s, the country was lousy with them.)
4. Violent crime (obviously not solved, but down dramatically since the mid-'90s)
5. Annoying TV ads (not abolished, but down to a trickle, in my view)
I'm sure there are more, but those are the ones that come immediately to mind. I think it's important to review these Good News items so we don't get too discouraged. Anyone got others?
Friday, September 4, 2009
Weather You Like It or Not
San Diego has weather. San Diego has seasons. Of course, the fact that I actually have to spell that out for people means that most folks think we don't. Even the people who live here will sometimes find themselves repeating the myths: every day is 72 and sunny; it never rains; and so on.
Now, I have to admit, obviously, that it does not rain a lot here; it's a semiarid Mediterranean climate, after all. And every day does have the potential to be 72 (or even 80) and sunny, which you can't say about most of the country.
But that doesn't mean that there aren't distinct, noticeable seasons. Right now, we're just hitting the peak of summer - temperatures in the low 80s, a little humid, and you can see the afternoon thunderclouds up in the mountains and deserts. This kind of weather is only possible now - between July and September. To me, that means it's a season.
Pretty soon, we'll be getting into Santa Ana season - hot, dry winds that come sweeping over the mountains to the coast. Each Santa Ana lasts about three or four days, and on the first day, the skies can be incredibly clear. Even the city lights seem to sparkle and twinkle at night. On the downside, they can act like bellows on wildfires, and a lot of people get headaches when they happen. Some people love Santa Anas, mainly because they make it warm in the fall and winter. "Gosh, it's 75 in December!", they'll say. To which I jauntily retort, "Ouch! My head aches!" Man, I hate Santa Anas.
Towards the end of Santa Ana season, you start getting into the Season of Actual Weather. From November through March, it really does rain here. Some years more than others (El Niño years are especially wet), but this is when it happens. And it cools down. A typical day in January is maybe 59-63 during the day and 46-51 at night. Not freezing, obviously, but not exactly shorts weather, either.
After the rain starts to peter out in late March, we get to probably the best time of year: real Frasier weather. April is about the nicest month we have. No rain, no clouds, warmer and longer days. Just nice.
Which is good, because the next two months bring the lousiest weather of the year: June Gloom. Starting in May, we get low clouds that come in off the ocean in the afternoon, and stay until 10 or 11 the next morning before burning off for a few hours (if they burn off at all). No rain or anything, but just cloudy, gloomy days. This is the only time of year when San Diego's weather is demonstrably worse than where you're from (wherever that is). (Although, to be honest, I kinda like the muffled softness of cloudy June days. But I'm weird that way.)
So that, in a nutshell, is what San Diego seasons look like. There's even a folksy rhyme that succinctly describes the climate in San Diego: "The spring comes in the summer, the summer comes in the fall; the fall comes in the winter. And the winter doesn't come at all."
Now, maybe the change from one to the next can be a little more subtle than in Minnesota. I mean, any idiot can look around at brilliantly colored trees and feel the cool wind blow and tell you that's it's fall. And winter clearly slaps you in the face and yells (icily), "Hey - it's winter!! I can freeze off your nose in ten minutes if you don't believe me!" But it takes a refined, sophisticated atmospheric sensibility to get plopped down in 72 and sunny and be able to tell whether it's July or November.
And to all those folks who come out here and say stuff like, "Oh, I miss thunderstorms! I miss snow! I miss the leaves changing colors! How I miss all these seasonal manifestations that I grew accustomed to in my former place of residence! Oh!", all I can say is, hey, I like them, too. Snow is neat. Nothing wrong with some snow. There's also nothing wrong with no snow, however.
Anyhow, I'm glad that I've dispelled, once and for all, the notion that San Diego's weather is boring. It's not in the least like watching Frasier every day. It's like watching Frasier maybe 150 days a year. And let's be honest: who among us doesn't already do that? I mean, it's syndicated.
Now, I have to admit, obviously, that it does not rain a lot here; it's a semiarid Mediterranean climate, after all. And every day does have the potential to be 72 (or even 80) and sunny, which you can't say about most of the country.
But that doesn't mean that there aren't distinct, noticeable seasons. Right now, we're just hitting the peak of summer - temperatures in the low 80s, a little humid, and you can see the afternoon thunderclouds up in the mountains and deserts. This kind of weather is only possible now - between July and September. To me, that means it's a season.
Pretty soon, we'll be getting into Santa Ana season - hot, dry winds that come sweeping over the mountains to the coast. Each Santa Ana lasts about three or four days, and on the first day, the skies can be incredibly clear. Even the city lights seem to sparkle and twinkle at night. On the downside, they can act like bellows on wildfires, and a lot of people get headaches when they happen. Some people love Santa Anas, mainly because they make it warm in the fall and winter. "Gosh, it's 75 in December!", they'll say. To which I jauntily retort, "Ouch! My head aches!" Man, I hate Santa Anas.
Towards the end of Santa Ana season, you start getting into the Season of Actual Weather. From November through March, it really does rain here. Some years more than others (El Niño years are especially wet), but this is when it happens. And it cools down. A typical day in January is maybe 59-63 during the day and 46-51 at night. Not freezing, obviously, but not exactly shorts weather, either.
After the rain starts to peter out in late March, we get to probably the best time of year: real Frasier weather. April is about the nicest month we have. No rain, no clouds, warmer and longer days. Just nice.
Which is good, because the next two months bring the lousiest weather of the year: June Gloom. Starting in May, we get low clouds that come in off the ocean in the afternoon, and stay until 10 or 11 the next morning before burning off for a few hours (if they burn off at all). No rain or anything, but just cloudy, gloomy days. This is the only time of year when San Diego's weather is demonstrably worse than where you're from (wherever that is). (Although, to be honest, I kinda like the muffled softness of cloudy June days. But I'm weird that way.)
So that, in a nutshell, is what San Diego seasons look like. There's even a folksy rhyme that succinctly describes the climate in San Diego: "The spring comes in the summer, the summer comes in the fall; the fall comes in the winter. And the winter doesn't come at all."
Now, maybe the change from one to the next can be a little more subtle than in Minnesota. I mean, any idiot can look around at brilliantly colored trees and feel the cool wind blow and tell you that's it's fall. And winter clearly slaps you in the face and yells (icily), "Hey - it's winter!! I can freeze off your nose in ten minutes if you don't believe me!" But it takes a refined, sophisticated atmospheric sensibility to get plopped down in 72 and sunny and be able to tell whether it's July or November.
And to all those folks who come out here and say stuff like, "Oh, I miss thunderstorms! I miss snow! I miss the leaves changing colors! How I miss all these seasonal manifestations that I grew accustomed to in my former place of residence! Oh!", all I can say is, hey, I like them, too. Snow is neat. Nothing wrong with some snow. There's also nothing wrong with no snow, however.
Anyhow, I'm glad that I've dispelled, once and for all, the notion that San Diego's weather is boring. It's not in the least like watching Frasier every day. It's like watching Frasier maybe 150 days a year. And let's be honest: who among us doesn't already do that? I mean, it's syndicated.
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