Monthly Archives: November 2009

Ode to Bergeron

Monday night means “Dancing with the Stars” in the Curtsinger household.

I’m either watching it — LIVE — or my DVR is smokin’ to record it (and Castle and the CBS comedies) while I am out of town on business.  (Can’t miss my DWTS…girl’s got priorities.)

Last night I was able to sit home and watch it — LIVE — which is always a treat.  And while the dancing is, of course, the main event (along with the ever-present possibility of sickness, injury and emotional breakdown), I have to admit — watching host Tom Bergeron do his thing is in a word — inspiring.

No one in show biz is quicker than Tom Bergeron, and that is a simple fact.

In the five years that “Dancing with the Stars” has been on the air, everything possible has been said to him or happened right in front of him, and Tom always has the perfect comeback.

Dancer loses her top?  Tom covers with a smile and a snappy one-liner.  Marie Osmond faints at his feet?  Tom smoothly cuts to commercial while getting the needed assistance.  Bruno and Donny Osmond lock lips?  Tom makes it the running gag of the show (emphasis on ‘gag’).

I’ve had the chance to attend the show — LIVE — in the studio, and the man makes it look so easy when, in reality, there are literally a hundred moving parts.  But you never see the effort…just his effortless charm.

When I grow up, I want to be Tom Bergeron…or, at least, have his career.  I wonder if he has interns?  Or would like to play mentor to a sticky egg like me?

Anyone out there know Tom Bergeron?  If you do, can you hook me up with him?

LIVE!!!

La la la…ha ha ha

So, I’ve had this theory for a while.

I think episodes of “Saturday Night Live” tend to be funnier when the guest host is a male celebrity in his mid-20′s to early 30′s.  The SNL writing staff is predominantly male and around this age (at least in their minds) and just writes better stuff for a host that is more like themselves.

Case in point:  Justin Timberlake.  Zac Efron.  Neil Patrick Harris.  Paul Ruud.  Anna Faris.  (She counts as a guy.)  Shia LaBeouf.  Jake Gyllenhaal. They have all had incredible shows — really funny stuff.

Of course, even I look at that list and think — that’s a pretty impressive group of talent.  But we’ve seen really funny people appear on SNL and suck wind.  So, that’s not always a given.

And then someone like Taylor Swift appears on SNL as both the musical guest and the host.  Now, I personally felt this was a huge risk.  Obviously, she can sing.  But who thought Taylor Swift was going to be able to hold her own as host? Has she done any kind of acting up to this point?

But she did.  I thought Saturday’s show was hilarious. But a big part of that was the writing.

Taylor got the writers on her side.  And she’s not a male celebrity of the appropriate age.  She falls outside my hypothesis.  How did she do it?

Here’s my new theory:  Taylor let ‘em ‘have at her.’  Gave them her personal life and let them play. No topics were off limit.  And it worked.

So, then I went back and looked at the other shows that I liked from the past.  Zac Efron poked fun at his own success on “High School Musical.”  Neil Patrick Harris did an inspired salute to “Doogie Howser.”  Jake Gyllenhaal did his opening monologue in drag.

Maybe they all were successful for the same reason: no holds barred comedy.  I just didn’t notice until Saturday.

Go bunny business!

Don’t DIY

I give up…for now.

Every once in a while, you get a little project around the house, and you think, “I can do that.”  Installing new shades?  I’ve done it in most of my apartments.  So, why should my coop in NYC be any different?

I can hear the walls laughing at me as I type this because…

I fought the cellular shades, and the shades won.

It’s really a very simple process:

  1. Take down the old mini-blinds.
  2. Remove the old hardware.
  3. Put up the new hardware.
  4. Insert the new shades.
  5. Stand back and admire your work.

Yea, right.

I will admit, the cellular black-out shades in my bedroom went up pretty easily.  They lured me in.  I did them yesterday and thought, “The rest tomorrow will be a breeze.”

That’s when my brownstone rolled up its sleeves and decided to throw its best my way.

First, the old hardware wouldn’t come off in the kitchen.  Then, the window sills where too soft to take new hardware.  Then the shade had major knots in the cord.  Good god.  An hour-and-a-half later, I finally stood back and looked at my lovely, much-cursed shade.

Off to the living room.  The hardware came off easily enough, but the sills in here are hard as a rock.  Had to search for different screws.  Then the frickin’ shade wouldn’t lock into place….even snapped back and popped me in the kisser at one point.  That was fun.

Suffice to say, the shades still aren’t up in the living room.  I had to take a break and bitch about it a bit.  But I’ll be back.

And round two, I’ll pop them in the mouth.

Happy accident

Have you ever watched a movie and something about the main character hits a little too close to home?

That happened to me this morning when I was waiting for my groceries to be delivered. (Yes — city living has its advantages.)

The film was “Happy-Go-Lucky,” the story of Poppy, a 30-ish single, highly-optimistic schoolteacher living with her friend Zoe in a flat in Camden, England. As the movie begins, Poppy’s bicycle is stolen, and she starts taking driving lessons from Scott, a very negative, closed-off instructor who she infuriates simply by being her sunny self.

The movie follows Poppy’s day-to-day interactions with her students, her friends and her sisters, and we quickly see that her optimistic attitude aggravates many situations.

Now, I don’t think that my personality mirrors that of Poppy — I am much too grounded in reality — but when I watched her driving sessions with Scott, the dynamic wasn’t that unfamiliar.

How many times have I been placed in situations with extremely quiet or shy people, and I have smothered them with my friendliness and chatter?  They got that look of panic in their eyes, and yet I motored on, thinking all they needed was a little more time…a little more attention.

In some cases, we made some real progress…but that may just be the extrovert in me projecting.  Who knows what the other person really thought?

In “Happy-Go-Lucky,” Scott was not only angered by Poppy’s attitude, he also misinterpreted her intentions.  Very awkward.

So, I learned a lesson today.  And I was only killing time.

Yea movies!

Run to NYC

Living in New York City, I see celebrities fairly often.

Sometimes they are simply walking down the street in my neighborhood.  Jerry Seinfeld, John McEnroe, and Kevin Bacon live within 2-3 blocks of me, so it’s not uncommon to see them with their kids.

Other times I see celebrities in the Times Square area in a bar or restaurant. I saw Daniel Radcliffe of “Harry Potter” fame get carded at a bar — by my friend Lucas, who was bartending — one of my favorite New York moments.  And, of course, I have seen them from time to time when I do extra work on a movie or TV show.

But this week, I have discovered a new venue for celebrity sightings, and I wanted to pass this along to anyone coming to Manhattan for a visit.

A great place to see celebrities in NYC?  The horse path in Central Park between 7-8am.

The past two mornings, the weather has been cool and brisk, and Rory Dog and I have been up early with all the other dogs and their people in the park.  On Thursday morning, I saw a group of four runners go by, and one of them — I’m darn certain — was actor James McAvoy, who starred in “The Last King of Scotland,” “Atonement,” “Becoming Jane,” and “Wanted.”

I’m guessing the other runners were a combination of trainers/bodyguards in case a fan like me decided to take chase.

I don’t know that I would thought much about it except this morning, as Rory and I were walking along in the sunshine, I noticed another group of four runners similarly dressed coming towards me, and I wondered if it might be McAvoy again.  But when I looked closer, I realized one of the runners was Adrien Brody, who won an Oscar for “The Piano.”

Maybe both actors are staying at the same hotel or working with the same gym;  I don’t know.  But they are sending the celeb’s out in the park on the Upper West Side for their early morning runs.

Just so you know.  In case ya wanna take a gander.

That’s New York City.  Always something to see.

My apologies

I’m sorry, Philadelphia.  I didn’t mean to.

When I moved to New York City three years ago, I had hoped being a sports team ‘good luck charm’ would help the Mets, but alas — the Yankees win.

I’m not any happier about this than you are.

Even though my powers are extremely strong — and becoming more legendary by the day– I’ve never had much control over them.

They first surfaced in Kansas City in 1992.  Mere weeks after I moved there, Joe Montana signed with the Chiefs.  Kansas City didn’t win a Super Bowl under Joe, but they were definitely post-season contenders.

I moved to Boston in 2000 and lived there for six years.  I think we all know what impact I had on that town.  I helped the Red Sox break the curse and win the World Series not once, but twice.  The Patriots won the Super Bowl not once, not twice, but three times while I was in town.

And the minute I moved to New York City — we’re talking, I’d been in town just a couple of months — the New York Giants won the Super Bowl by beating the Patriots.

Ouch.

My power is infinite and brutal and — with the Yankees’ World Series win just last night — impossible to target.

I don’t like the Yankees.  I consider them to be the demon seed.  I thought that when I moved to New York City, my powers would help the Mets, who — let’s face it– could really use it.  But so far, nothing.  Nada.  And now this.

I’m starting to wonder who’s behind my powers, if, indeed, the Yankees win.

Great expectations

Isn’t it funny that New York City seems quiet and calm after three days and nights in New Orleans?

Perhaps it’s because one of those nights was Halloween.  And the other nights were filled with World Series games and Monday Night football crowds…so the city always seemed a bit manic and overly juiced up.

But, really, that’s what you expect from New Orleans.

Rich food, too much drink, and gaudy dress served up with Southern charm and hospitality, so it always seem just right.

But one thing I did not expect turned out to be my favorite memory of the trip.

On Monday night, my friends Kathy, Judy and I went to Court of Two Sisters for dinner.  It is very much a New Orleans tradition — a restaurant in the heart of the French Quarter, boasting primarily outdoor seating in a courtyard under trees filled with white, twinkly lights.

It’s lovely and atmospheric and the deep South at its best.

We had reservations, so we were quickly seated between a large fountain and a side garden.  I immediately started snapping photos.  I had been there years before, and it was just as I remembered it.

Before we could even crack open our menus, there was a rustle in the greenery next to our table.  Two huge rats — we are talking the size of black cats — scurried through the side garden by our feet.

Judy screamed like the woman she is.  I jumped up, almost upsetting the wrought-iron table.  Karen just looked at us like we were crazy because she didn’t see the varmints.

Our waiter stopped over to see what all the fuss was about.  I — much too loudly — exclaimed, “There are rats in the bushes!  Rats?  Does that usually happen?”

He was smart enough not to answer that question and simply said, “You’ll have to speak to the manager.  Shall I move you to a table at the center of the restaurant?”

And the funniest part of the story is, he did.  We were re-seated.  We ate there anyway.  Because…it’s the city.  It’s an outdoor restaurant.  And it’s probably not that surprising that a critter or two strolls by now and then.

But…I ate veggie that night.

Coincidence?  I think not.

Blue dog

I miss my dog.

I’ve been traveling for business since Saturday, and there’s a hole in my life when Rory’s not with me.  He’s at home with my dogsitter Dru, probably having a good ol’ time, but his mamma is missing him.

And while we’ve been apart, I feel like there have been dogs everywhere I go, and stories about dogs all over the Internet and on the news.

Coincidence?  I think not.

When I was walking through the French Quarter yesterday to grab lunch, I saw a couple walking their dog — some kind of pit bull mix — who they had dressed up for the New Orleans Saints game.  The dog had on a sweater with a Saints flag suspended from it, and he was prancing along like he knew he looked good.

It made me miss my dog (although I would never put a flag on him unless he asked for one).

Then last night, when I was watching ‘Late Show with David Letterman’ — something I rarely do at home because Rory and I read before bed — David told the story of how he and his son Harry had found a stray chihuahua over the weekend and decided to adopt it.  Now, David is a dog lover, but I don’t think chihuahuas are a favorite breed.  Of course, after he begrudgingly told the story, they showed a photo of Harry with the dog — they looked awfully cute together.

It made me miss my dog more.  He’s really cute, too.

Heck, I even read on the Internet that the Fido Awards — the doggie equivalent of the Oscars — are going to be announced in London at the end of November.  Nominees include the animated canine stars of “Up” and “Bolt,” the real dog star of “Marley & Me,” and one non-dog entry — the fox voiced by George Clooney in the animated “Fantastic Mr. Fox.”

Now I really miss my dog…and wish I had gotten him into acting.  (He could have beaten any of those pooches.)

Good thing I’m headed home today.  Even I think I’m starting to sound weird.

Better than sliced bread

Tomorrow is a big day… a sadly overlooked and under-appreciated day.

And, for someone like me, whose idea of the perfect meal is a grilled cheese sandwich…or peanut butter and jelly…or ham and cheese on wheat with spicy brown mustard — tomorrow is a day of very special thanksgiving.

Tomorrow, November 3rd, is National Sandwich Day.

Let us bow out heads in a moment of silence.

How did I manage to work at Hallmark Cards for almost seven years and not discover this all-important holiday? Thanks to lemondrop.com, one of my favorite websites for all things weird and wonderful, I not only found out about National Sandwich Day in time to celebrate, I was also able to vote in their national poll for the Greatest Sandwich in America.

Is it my personal favorite, the grilled cheese?  Or the hearty PB&J?  The lobster roll?  Cheesesteak?  Or very sloppy joe?

I cast my vote, and I want you to have the honor as well.

I know our nation is currently debating important issues like national healthcare, potential troop deployment in Afghanistan, and whether or not the Yankees are indeed the demon seed they appear.  But having a voice in the selection of the Greatest Sandwich in America?

That hits home.  That hits the old tummy tum tum.

I’m hungry.

Box-ing office?

If you were on Twitter at all on Halloween, you may have noticed that one of the trending topics was #potterday.

It seems the fans of the Harry Potter books and films were chatting them up, and why not?  On a holiday where ghosts and goblins walk the earth, talk of wizards and death eaters seems apropos.

But when I read the potterday tweets — and added one of my own (heck, I like Harry as much as the next muggle) — I noticed a few felt it necessary to slam “Twilight” in the process:

“Who needs vampires?  We have magic.”

Why do you have to dislike “Twilight” to like Harry Potter?  Are the two mutually exclusive?  Why is life always a competition?

It reminds me a bit of my youth.  (Yes, I can remember back that far.)  When “Star Wars” came out, many “Star Trek” fans — and I am pointing the finger straight back at myself  — were insulted by the very presence of this new saga and boycotted it.  Years passed before I saw “Star Wars” in its entirety, and that was mainly because of Harrison Ford.  He was big time by then, and I wanted to see his take on Hans Solo.

In retrospect, it was a ridiculous reaction.

I think the same thing about the Mac/PC wars.  I own a PC, and always have — mainly because an overwhelming majority of the business world operates on PCs.  I have worked on a Mac in the past, and I personally didn’t find the transition from PC to Mac to be difficult.  I think both platforms have their pros and cons, and I am entertained by the vehement love/hate that people display for the different platforms.

I just don’t see it.

But, that’s me.  I like PCs.  I like Mac’s.  I like “Star Trek.”  I like “Star Wars.”  (Okay, I’ll always like “Star Trek” a bit more…it was my first sci-fi.)

And I love Harry Potter and “Twilight.”  To me, they are very different and are not competing or attempting to muscle one another out at the box office.

Can’t we all just get along?