Monthly Archives: October 2009

Living dead – part deaux

In honor of Halloween, Moviefone.com conducted a poll, asking:

“Who is the sexiest movie vampire of all time?”

Website polls are great, aren’t there?  As a former managing producer, I can tell you, it is a brilliant way to have site visitors do all the work for you.  They not only get to vote — which they love doing — but you can also let them comment — which they also love doing — that you can then use to build your feature.  Add some stock photos, and zip bing bang — Halloween feature approved and posted.

Cynical, but true.

And honestly — could Moviefone.com have asked a more obvious question this year?  The site producers probably had the top five vampire pages built before they started.  This is an example of a website asking a question that they already knew the answer to.  (In case you have been living under a rock the past year, here are the poll results.)

I guess People magazine will be going through the same trauma when they select the “Sexiest Man Alive.”  Can this year’s campaign maintain its usual hype?  Is there any real suspense at all?  If the editors pick anyone other than Robert Pattinson of “Twilight,” do they risk having their headquarters burned to the ground by an angry mob of Twi-hards?

Might be a good poll question…

Living dead

I’m headed to New Orleans tomorrow on business, and I’m pretty excited.  To be there on Halloween could be the freakiest thing ever.

I mean, I don’t think that the creator of ‘True Blood’ simply imagined all that stuff.  I’ve been to New Orleans before, and there’s a mystical quality about the city that makes you think it’s perfectly feasible that vampires and shape shifters walk amongst us.

I’ll be disappointed if they don’t.

What I do think the series ‘True Blood’ and the movie ‘Twilight’ misrepresent is how good looking the undead would be (or are, if you accept that they are real).  As I mentioned, I’ve been to New Orleans before; I didn’t see anyone like Robert Pattinson or Stephen Meyer or Alexander Skarsgård in the French Quarter.  Most of the people I’ve seen in the past have eaten a few too many beignets or are weaving from the effects of a hurricane or two.

(As we all know, vampires can handle their drink.)

Of course, the last time I was in New Orleans, I wasn’t on the lookout for the undead, either.  That was a time “B.C.” (before Cullen).  Now, after having seen both seasons of ‘True Blood’ and having read and seen ‘Twilight’ more times than any woman my age should admit, I know what to look for:

  • Pale skin, much like my own
  • Unsettling courtesy
  • An intense focus on me — so refreshing
  • A sparkle or two, but somewhere belong drag queen
  • Into necks

As I mentioned, I am on business in New Orleans, so I will have to fit in my study of the undead after my conference work.  But, who knows?  That just might be the best place to start looking.

Bwha ha ha ha…

 

 

Fame game

I’ve always wanted to be famous.

Anyone who knows me knows this is true.  Maybe it’s because I grew up in front of the TV.  Maybe it’s because I’m the baby of the family and a serious attention hound.  Maybe I think fame would bring money and security and a degree of freedom I haven’t had in the past.

(Actually, I just think I’d be a great interview and I have all my award speeches ready.)

But today I was reminded of what would be the very best part of achieving some degree of fame and the money that often accompanies it:

Helping a cause that is close to your heart.

On Tuesday, Bob Barker, the recently retired and — let’s face it — legendary host of “The Price is Right,” donated $1 million to his alma mater, Drury University in Springfield, Missouri, to establish a professorship on animal rights.  This was his second $1 million gift to Drury, the first occurring some 20 months ago, which established an undergraduate course in animal ethics.

You have all probably heard Bob Barker sign off “The Price is Right” with his trademark “Help control the pet population. Have your pet spayed or neutered.”  Now, thanks to the fame (and obvious money) he achieved as a beloved game show host, Barker was able to pay more than lip service to the animals that he loves.

How awesome that must feel.  I love animals and give money regularly to several organizations (not quite on Bob’s scale).  But if I hit it big, I would so totally make animals my celebrity cause.  I would do whatever I could to help out the The Humane Society of the United States,the ASPCA, the American Humane Society and the World Society for the Protection of Animals.

So, help spread the word about me, Carla Curtsinger. Making me famous will ultimately help animals around the world.

(P.S. — I also have no shame.)

Spoooooooky

So, I’m watching TV last night — shocking revelation, I know — and a commercial for home appliances comes on where a man and woman give their oven a ‘shout out’ for the great work it did on dinner.

Now, besides my obvious concern for the mental health of the couple, I did a double take when they said  ‘shout out.’

When did that become such a common term?

It seems to be everywhere now.  I hear people on game shows giving ‘shout outs’ to their friends in the audience. The program hosts on QVC let phone callers give ‘shout outs’ to family members watching at home.  Disc jockeys do it.  Athletes do it.  Where did it all begin?

To answer this burning question, I turned to that bastion of information and accuracy, Wikipedia. (So you may want to fact check this blog.)

Turns out the phrase ‘shout out’ dates back to 1990.  It was first used in the United States by rap performers and their fans, so it is closely associated with hip-hop culture.

Really — 1990?  Has it been that long?  I thought ‘shout out’ was just a few years old, and it turns out this piece of slang is getting ready to celebrate its 20th birthday.  It’s practically wrinkly.

Well…I guess it has begun.  Time is flying by just as my mother said it would.  But what can you expect from someone who remembers black-and-white television and a world without microwaves, laptops and GPS.

That’s right.  I’ve celebrated my 20th birthday, too.

Another shocking revelation.

Here comes trouble

The award shows of late have earned ratings gains and critical and audience acclaim by casting multi-talented showmen as their hosts.  Neil Patrick Harris charmed everyone at this year’s Emmy and Tony Awards, and Hugh Jackman is rumored to repeat his world-class performance at next year’s Oscars.

And now the Golden Globes, which hasn’t used an actual host since the 1980′s, is following their lead by casting as its host…Ricky Gervais.

Say wha??

Don’t get me wrong.  Ricky Gervais is funny.  He has had some hilarious turns as an awards presenter on the Emmys and Oscars.  I particularly liked his observation at this year’s Emmy Awards:

“The thing about the Oscars and the Golden Globes is they’ve got film stars there, with their jawlines and chiseled looks, making me feel bad. But in this room – I’m not being funny – I’m probably above average. Here, Steve Carell is considered handsome. But Rainn Wilson, we’ve got to be honest… he’s weird, even in this company.”

Funny stuff.  And typical for Gervais.  He is great in small doses, and even then, someone is gonna get poked at.  Or slammed.  Or totally offended.

I am also reminded of Gervais’ turn at the austim benefit held just up the street from me at the Beacon Theatre in New York City’s Upper West Side.  Jon Stewart hosted the evening, and Gervais entertained for a few minutes, where he pretty much dissed the people they had gathered to support.  It was funny, but in a very uncomfortable way.  I’m sure everyone was glad he was simply featured, and not hosting…’cause they could get him off the stage.

Charm is one of the most essential elements of a successful awards show host, but it’s not a word I associate with Gervais.  Charm not only broadens an award show host’s appeal, but it also saves him when things go awry.  Let’s face it — not every joke or bit is going to go as planned, and a quick-witted, charming line can save the day.  (Google “Neil Patrick Harris Tony Awards Brett Michaels”.)

Of course, the Golden Globes are the rebels of the televised awards, so in that respect Gervais is a perfect fit.  But I think the producers have to remember — no matter how ‘hip’ the Globes think they are, they are playing to the same audience.

So if Gervais has his own ‘Uma Oprah’ moment, I promise not to say “I told you so.”

(I’ll think of something more original.)

Love letter

Some people bemoan the end of summer.  Not me.

I love fall.  I love the early morning chill.  I love how energized Rory is — even as he nears his 11th birthday — when the day is sunny and crisp, and he runs through the park like a puppy.

I love wearing hoodies when I am working from home.  I especially love my “Team Edward” sweatshirt, even though it makes my friends roll their eyes.  Actually, that makes me love it more.

I love my coats, hats and gloves.  I love their colors and textures, and I especially love having pockets again.  So many places to put poop bags and my Palm Pre and keys and money and everything else I need on my dog walks around the ‘hood.

I love New York City in the fall.  The tourist trade thins — although I enjoy tourists as a rule — so the price of Broadway shows goes down, and Central Park becomes, if possible, even more beautiful.

I love the city as it preps for the holidays.  I love being able to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade one block from my apartment.  I love the Rockefeller Center ice rink, the Radio City Christmas Spectacular and the Top O’ the Rock, where I can kinda see my apartment.

And when the weather starts to warm, I’ll love New York City in the spring, too.

But right now, I’d just love to spend some time there.

Written in a hotel, on yet another business trip

Chirp no more

As I write this, I’m sitting in LAX listening to the crickets.

No, they haven’t installed an aquatic exhibit in my terminal (although that would be very California and a very cool way to pass the time).

The chirping is unfortunately manmade and courtesy of Nextel. All those darn walkie-talkie phones with the annoying, high-pitched ‘ba-da-beep’ before each incoming transmission — I want to crush them all in my pasty white girl paws.

Why do people feel compelled to use their phones in walkie-talkie mode?  Does it save them money?  Minutes?  It seems like most cell phone companies today have stepped away from minute-by-minute packages.  Aren’t most of us paying monthly usage fees now?

Do they think it makes them look cool?  Here’s a review — it doesn’t.  Do they think it sounds cool?  That chirp every 10 seconds is tedious and repetitive…especially in a crowded airport terminal, where you also have to contend with a million loud conversations and recorded announcements about allowable liquids through security — and we’re already through security.  But that’s another rant.

The Nextel chirp also totally freaks out my dog.  He’s not with me in the airport tonight, but if he were, he’d be sitting on my head.  To him, that noise is a natural predator.

And I’m really beginning to feel the same.

Mind the gap

As I was procrastinating going to bed last night (hotel + overtired + no doggie), I visited lemondrop.com to read the latest news of the weird.

There I found the article, “What’s the Most Embarrassing Movie You Ever Watched with a Parent?.” “Knocked Up,” “American Pie,” and “Borat” were just a few of the films that made for “the most awkward hour and a half of my life” for several peeps and their parents.

I honestly don’t remember getting into too much discomfort with my mom at movies.  She did watch “Monty Python’s Flying Circus” with me on TV one Saturday night when I was a kid — right when a naked women ran across the screen for no apparent reason — and told me she didn’t want me watching ‘that filth’ anymore.  (Since she was rarely up that late, I readily agreed — what she didn’t know didn’t get me in trouble.)

My most embarrassing movie-going moment was when I took my cousin Joe and his wife Linda to see “The 40-Year Old Virgin” during a visit to Chicago.  They are both about 15 years older then me, a fact that I usually forget.  They seem my age most of the time…that is, until we sat down and watched that film.

Suddenly, I was in the theater with my grandparents.  Every F word, every dirty joke, every sex scene and condom flying through the air was TORTURE.

I was afraid to laugh aloud.  My cousin Linda actually laughed first — I don’t recall what prompted it — so thereafter I felt I could at least make polite noises  (even though I was guffawing in my head).

By the end of the movie, I was sore from sitting so tensely.  I had a headache, too — not your typical post-comedy reaction.

As we pulled out of the theater parking lot, I nervously asked Joe and Linda what they thought of the film.  They both rolled their eyes and made the noises you make when you don’t want to say “Wow, the movie you picked out sucked.”  I offered to give them a refund, but they wouldn’t bite.  (They had bought the tickets, I bought the snacks.)

Joe and I still laugh about that night.  But for some reason, he doesn’t trust my movie reviews anymore.

Tragic.

Them’s fighting words

There’s a new book in town –  “Time to Eat the Dog?: A Real Guide to Sustainable Living.”

As soon as I read the title, I thought — there is no way the authors are seriously suggesting we eat our pets (and if they are, watch out!).

And of course, they aren’t.  New Zealand architecture professors Brenda and Robert Vale admit the name of their book is intended merely to shock ….and make a point.

Apparently every pet we own increases our carbon footprint.  In the case of a large dog, like a German Shepherd, for example, the impact each year is similar to driving a car around. (Who knew?)  So the Vales feel you shouldn’t have an animal unless you can eventually eat it.

Not surprisingly, they don’t have any pets.  But, after writing this book, they have quite a few enemies.  The online blogs and message boards quickly filled with comments from angry people who took umbrage with the book’s title.

I didn’t spew any venom at the authors — I realized their headline was a marketing ploy more so than a real recommendation — but I was cheered by the online support for pets that the book title prompted.

Anyone who has had a dog share their lives knows how much that hairy little creature adds to each day.  For the very little that they ask from you, they give so very much more in return.

Living green is important, but living a happy life is the ultimate goal.  I don’t think anyone should eliminate relationships that make life worth living — human, canine, feline or exotic pet.

Rainmaker

Wanna know if it’s gonna rain?

Don’t bother watching the Weather Channel.  Just check my travel itinerary…cause I’m pretty sure rain is following me wherever I go.

Paranoid much?  You tell me.

It started last Thursday when I took a quick trip to Boston to teach a class at Boston University.  It was raining in New York City when I left, and as my MegaBus rolled into town, the rain rolled right into Boston with me…and stayed.

My friends blamed me.  We all laughed.

It was sunny the morning I left Boston, but as my bus entered the New York City limits, the clouds gathered and the rain began to fall.  Welcome home, Carla.

Next, I was off to Akron where the sun was shining.  By the time I left, Ohio was weeping.

Yesterday I was on the plane en route to Kansas City.  The pilot reported 65 and sunny in the city of barbecue — the curse was broken!  — but as we made our approach, a freak rainstorm began, and weather reports said the rain should last about 48 hours.

That’s how long I’m in town.

Next stop for Carla?  San Diego.  And we all know that means ‘whale’s vagina.’  But after I leave?

It will just be another sad, rainy city left in my wake.