Monthly Archives: October 2009

Unhairy mess

I was working in Akron, Ohio last night, so perhaps that’s why this news story caught my eye.

The International Women’s Air and Space Museum (IWASM), which is located in Cleveland — or ‘Land of Cleve,’ as I like to say — has for 20 years been home to a wad of hair from the head of famed female aviator Amelia Earhart.

Or so they thought.

Recent DNA testing by the Institute for Aviation History, a non-profit group that continues to search for the pilot’s remains, discovered that the clump was really…thread.

Oopsy daisy.

And it’s not like the alleged hair was pulled from a random shower drain. IWASM received the false fringe from the Smithsonian Museum…which got the whacky weave via donation from a man in Pennsylvania.

Now, it doesn’t really surprise me that someone might try to pass off a tangle of thread as the legendary flier’s locks. There’s a shyster born every minute (to balance out all the suckers, of course).  It is shocking, though, that it got by the Smithsonian.  I don’t think hair and thread necessarily look that much alike, even to the human eye.

But most surprising of all?  Get this — now that the fraud has been exposed, IWASM has decided to keep the thread in the exhibit.

Huh??

What on earth are the museum curators thinking?  We know it’s fake, guys.  You announced it to the press, and since the movie ‘Amelia’ opens soon, they actually wrote a story about it.  We know it’s not her hair…it’s thread.

It was already kinda creepy. Now it’s just stupid.

Leno effect

I would never wish ill on anyone or any endeavor, but…

NBC is getting what they deserve.

They tried to go cheap.  They pulled the pricey scripted programs that typically have filled out their schedule from 10-11pm and played the talk show card instead.  It’s really not that different from reality programming… NBC’s ‘hook’ (Leno) just wasn’t very original.

Since the premiere of “The Jay Leno Show” in primetime four weeks ago, nightly viewership has dropped from his debut of 12 million to roughly half that at 5.6 million nightly.

As a point of comparison, that’s about one-third of the viewers that NBC was able to attract last year with its schedule of dramas from 10-11pm.

And the network numbers aren’t the only ones that are hurting.  The NBC affiliates nightly news programs, which immediately follow Leno’s supposed laugh fest, are also suffering.  Baltimore, Kansas City, and even Jay’s hometown of Boston are reporting lower numbers…and they aren’t too happy about it.

As you may recall, the general manager of WHDH in Boston originally didn’t want to take Leno’s show at all, but changed his mind after NBC threatened to pull their affiliate status.  Turns out his instincts were spot on.

And NBC’s instincts?  Not so good.

Rumor has it that Comcast is going to acquire NBC Universal and will dump Leno well before the previously agreed upon 12 months.

Sounds like good business to me.

Off the wall

Rory and I walked to Riverside Park yesterday for a change of pace.  (Always makes me feel like I’m in a scene from ‘You’ve Got Mail’ –  “Don’t you think daisies are the friendliest flower?”)

Anyhoo…along the way we happened upon several brownstones whose owners don’t practice window treatments.  While I personally keep my mini-blinds tightly shut 24/7 — I was a vampire long before Edward stole my heart — I applaud other folks’ decision to lay bare their windows so I that can peek inside at their decor.

And here’s what I repeatedly saw:  walls covered floor to ceiling with pictures.  We’re talking portraits, landscapes and prints literally lining the walls, with a scant two-inch separation.

Is this typical?  I came home and looked at my apartment, each wall featuring a lone picture at its center.  I’ve always found this look to be clean and uncluttered.  Plus, I think it highlights the artwork — the singularity gives the print focus and importance.

Seeing all those pictures one after the other made me a tad nervous.  The layout is visually overwhelming…akin to a very messy desktop.

It’s probably just a matter of personal taste or how you were raised.  But deep down, I think how you display your art is a tiny peek inside how your brain works.

And really — do you wanna leave that on display to nosy neighbors like me?

No, no and no

If it were possible, would you want photos of every moment of your life?

(I feel I should exclude soccer moms from this question, because they seem to take an awful lot of photos.)  But for the rest of you — would you…really?

Well, this reality is just around the corner.  UK-based firm Vicon has licensed technology for one such camera that you wear around your neck.  It can be programmed to take photos as often as every 30 seconds in response to changes in your body temperature or the environment.

The original intent of the camera was to help Alzheimer patients look back on the events of their day, but now we can use it to bore our friends and family on Facebook with the day-to-day minutiae of our lives.

Imagine!  Whereas before we could only share photos of those events where we remembered to whip out the ol’ digital camera, now the Vicon neck camera will be clicking along all day, every day.  We can share even our most forgettable moments.

I know I’m looking forward to that.

And I’m guessing Facebook is going to have to start charging for photo upload — can you imagine the file space that will be required after the Vicon camera is made available in 2010?

We really need that ‘unlike’ button.

Easy being green

I’m not one to lecture on green initiatives.  (That’s my sister’s department.)

But I’ve recently realized that my lifestyle is saving the planet.

You’re welcome.

Granted, I didn’t move to New York City for altruistic reasons…not by a long shot.  I’ve wanted to live here since I was eight years old.  I wanted to be close to the center of television and publishing and Broadway and — let’s face it — the universe.

But it turns out that city dwellers like myself are living far greener lives than our country counterparts.

It’s true.

You maybe surrounded by Mother Nature, but we city folk typically don’t own cars, so we walk and use public transportation to get around.  We also live in much smaller homes and apartments, which means we use less energy — about one-half the electricity as our non-city friends. We also generate fewer greenhouse gases.

Don’t take my word for it.  There’s a great book out on the topic –  “Green Metropolis: Why Living Smaller, Living Closer, and Driving Less Are the Keys to Sustainability” by David Owens.

Heck, this week alone, I took commuter rail to Connecticut and Long Island, took a quick bus trip to Boston, and scooted around Manhattan on the subway and my own two feet.

I know that many rural areas don’t have the public transportation system that New York City enjoys. But, the next time you have that knee-jerk inclination to bemoan our urban areas, remember: the way we live our lives is good for everyone.

Disco inferno

Did you hear the one about the girls who went to see Shakespeare performed as a soft porn disco show, and then the smoke alarms went off in the theater, so they ended up standing outside in the rain while the firemen saved the day?

That was funny.

Not funny ha-ha…funny strange.  The kind of funny where you find yourself looking around and thinking, “What the fu….?”

I had traveled all afternoon…in the rain…from New York City to Boston.  I dumped my luggage and immediately headed to Harvard Square — in the unseasonably cold wind and semi-snow — to see “The Donkey Show,” a disco version of Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer’s Night Dream.”

It looked a bit like you might expect.  Big disco ball.  Polyester-clad disc jockey.  Male dancers in glitter and maniacal grins and little else, swishing about.  A few unidentified costumed fancies who must be disco Shakespeareans.  And lots and lots of forced gaiety.

Then, the smoke alarms sounded.  The house lights came up, exposing the inherent shabbiness of the stage.  The disc jockey was suddenly serious as he directed us out of the nearest exit.  People stopped at coat check — coat check! — when a fire was supposedly raging inside.  (It wasn’t…but still.)

And as we stood in the cold rain, I couldn’t help but notice that everyone had returned to normal in the street.  No strobe lights to inspire sudden hip gyrations.  No Donna Summers anthem to prompt leaping upon tables or railings.  No wood nymph on roller skates to — well, to make you proud not to be starring in disco soft porn.

I almost hitched a ride with the fire department.

For Seve

I love golf.  Have since I was a kid.

Do I play?  No.  But I’m a huge fan.

I discovered golf via television.  We didn’t have cable back in the day, and on the weekends, coverage of major tourneys took over the networks…so I watched.  And I became enamored with the complexities and competition of the sport.

And, of course, the personalities.

Long before Tiger Woods dominated the world of golf, I was obsessed with a Spaniard by the name of Seve Ballesteros.  He burst onto the scene in the late 70′s, becoming the youngest player to win the Masters in 1980 at age 23.  (Tiger, of course, went on to break that record in 1997.)

Seve was everything my hometown of Fancy Farm, Kentucky (population: 400) was not.  He was exotic, good-looking, and world-traveled, and perhaps I assigned those same qualities to the sport of golf.

Seve went on to win five major championships over his career and was a great team player for the Internationals at the Ryder Cup.  He struggled in later years with back problems and retired in 2007.

In 2008, Seve was diagnosed with a cancerous brain tumor.  Following surgery and chemotherapy, he is now partially blind in his left eye.  During his recuperation, he founded the Seve Ballesteros Foundation to help others with cancer fight the disease.

His story has inspired so many people on and off the golf course.   And, as recently as Wednesday, he pledged to return to the 2010 British Open and play a round.

And people wonder why I love the game of golf.

Thigh high

I have always bemoaned my genetic background.  Not my family per se — they are phenomenal people — but their medical DNA kinda sucks.

Cancer on one side, heart disease on the other.  I have always pictured them as loaded guns, pointed at either side of my head.  Which one will get me first?

I’ve blamed some of my physical traumas, as my blog name suggests, on my position in the family as the youngest.  The last child is the oldest egg, and as we know, the only things that get better with age are wine and men.

But most of my physical maladies can be traced directly back to one of my parents.  For example, high cholesterol from my dad, migraines from my mother.  Bad eyesight — dad’s kin.  Poor circulation — mom.  I’m sure you can do the same.

But today I learned that I owe a big ol’ thank you to my dad for my ginormous thighs.

That’s right.

Up to now, I had blamed my dad’s side of the family for my way-out-of-proportion-with-the-rest-of-my-body thighs.  Over the years, I’ve thrown quite a bit of hate at my thighs.  Done everything I can to make my thighs smaller.

And then today, I read that a study published in last month’s British Medical Journal found that both men and women with small thighs had a greater risk of developing heart disease and dying prematurely.

So, while my dad may have given me high cholesterol, at least he balanced the odds with my protective, thunder thighs.

That’s love.

Maddening Men

If you are trying to think of a good costume for Halloween, perhaps you should go as a talented, female, Emmy-award winning writer.  Apparently that is one really scary get-up in Hollywood…so scary, it can get you fired.

Kater Gordon, a writer for the critically-acclaimed TV drama “Mad Men,” was fired less than a month after she won an Emmy for writing on the show.  She took home the Emmy, along with series creator Matthew Weiner, for an episode called “Meditations in an Emergency.”

When they accepted the award, Weiner began, “Only one person can talk, so…” to which Gordon countered, “So I’m gonna hold the Emmy.”  He gave his thanks, and they left the stage with Gordon doing a lot of smiling, but no talking.

At the time, I thought it was kinda rude.  Weiner pretty much knew he was going to be back up on stage to accept the “Best Drama” Emmy later that evening, so why couldn’t Gordon have had her moment?  But, alas, he is the boss.

And apparently his need for control and attention extend beyond media events.  He fired Gordon reportedly because he felt “she had fulfilled her potential.”  Uh huh.  I think that’s code for “back up, chick, this show is mine.”

Whatever the true reason, it comes off badly in the popular press.  Instead of celebrating the good fortune of a staffer who he groomed from personal assistant to full-time writer, he cut her loose at the moment of their biggest triumph.

Sounds like Dr. Frankenstein is frightened of his creation…

Open minds

In the coca-cola wars, I have always been Team Pepsi.

I grew up drinking Pepsi, switched to Diet Pepsi when the world started reading nutrition labels, and reaffirmed my preference for Pepsi over Coke in one of those legendary mall taste tests.

I drink a lot less soda than I used to, but after reading that Pepsico is being boycotted, I may just step up and drink a bit more…for the team.

The American Family Association, which has targeted brands like Ford and McDonald’s in the past for their ‘lack of values,’ claims they now have over 500,000 signatures from people who have pledged to stop buying Pepsico products.

The reason behind the boycott?  Pepsico offers financial support to organizations promoting the ‘homosexual agenda,’ namely Human Rights Campaign and PFLAG (Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays).

Well, la de frickin’ da.

When are organizations like AFA going to realize that targeting a company for being open-minded only underlines their membership’s backward prejudice?  I mean, come on — first you don’t want gays to marry, and now you don’t want them to drink soda or enjoy a salty snack?  Where does it end?

Pepsi’s current advertising slogan is ‘something for everyone.’  If they are actually putting that thought into action — by supporting people of every race, creed, and sexual orientation — then I think they should be commended, not condemned.

I’m proud to purchase products from a company with such aspirations.

Go team!