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Random thoughts
April 20, 2007
I’ve always been offended by the concept of TV Turnoff Week — which arrives with absolutely no fanfare next week (April 23-27).
I’m all in favor of turning off really stupid TV programming (hello, “Dog the Bounty Hunter!”), but ditching the entire medium? Ridiculous. Television, for those who choose carefully, is packed with news, information and fine entertainment.
If you blacken your TV screen next week, you’ll miss the return of “Heroes” on Monday, the revival of “Bill Moyers Journal” on Wednesday and the season finale of “30 Rock” on Thursday. Why deny yourself? Plus, the NBA playoffs are beginning.
TV Turnoff Week is the brainchild of Adbusters, which is convinced that all television is evil and unhealthy.
This year, apparently to prove they’re fighting a pointless and useless battle, they have created some TV ads to make their case. Get this straight now: Adbusters is running ads on TV telling people to turn off the TV.
That’s a pretty bizarre concept to wrap your brain around, isn’t it?
Hair today, gone tomorrow
Sanjaya Malakar swooped onto “The Tonight Show” Thursday night, grinning madly and prompting lots of odd expressions on Jay Leno’s face.
The faux-hawk boy-wonder, who finally got the boot Wednesday night on “American Idol,” says he plans to pursue acting, modeling, singing “and other performing opportunities” (hmmm … one can only wonder).
Does this mean he’s dropping out of high school? He’s only 17 years old. It’s quite possible that he has an exaggerated opinion of his show biz career prospects, so it might be a good idea to at least graduate from high school.
As if we needed further evidence of the wacky world we live in, Sanjaya will be attending the White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner in Washington on Saturday night.
Obviously that fine journalistic group has loose membership requirements. Sanjaya will be the guest of People magazine, which covers the White House only when the First Daughters get into trouble, Laura is promoting a cause or the first dog does something truly hilarious.
July 10, 2006
Talk about stunt casting:
Barbara Walters’ daytime chat-fest “The View” has revealed that Shannen Doherty, best known for being difficult on every show she’s ever worked on, will be a substitute co-host at some point this summer.
You may recall (unless you were in a coma or orbiting Mars) that the substitute co-hosting was necessitated by the sudden and highly dramatic departure of another temperamental woman, Star Jones Reynolds.
In a move that surprised Baba Wawa, Star announced on the air that she was moving on. That move was followed by all kinds of juicy revelations about a Star vs. Baba feud. In a nutshell, Star’s contract wasn’t renewed, Baba told Star the show would give her a big send-off and not say that she had been fired. Star circumvented that plan with her announcement, and both women accused the other of betrayal.
The highly combustible Doherty has a reputation for nastiness and even occasional violence on “Beverly Hills 90210” and “Charmed.” If Ms. Walters is looking for some spice for “The View,” she may be getting a hotter variety than she hoped for.
Other celebs who will rotate into the mix over the summer (until a permanent replacement is found and before Rosie O’Donnell joins the show in September) include Brandi, Susan Lucci, Kelly Monaco and “nice judge” Carrie Ann Inaba of “Dancing With the Stars.”
First title change of the new season
ABC has announced that it has ditched the confusing title of its new sitcom “Let’s Rob … ” about a group of dimwits plotting a break-in of Mick Jagger’s New York apartment.
The new title is “Knights of Prosperity,” which doesn’t make much sense either, but at least it doesn’t have that silly ellipsis. And it isn’t as bulky as “The New Adventures of Old Christine,” which doesn’t fit into any listings grid anywhere.
Hope you like Peter
If you’re not a fan of Dallas actor Peter MacNicol, you’re in for a rocky new season.
The co-star of CBS’ “Numb3rs,” who is best known for his hilarious stint on “Ally McBeal,” is going to keep his CBS gig and also join the cast of Fox’s “24” when it returns in January. No word yet on whether he’ll play hero or villain.
March 31, 2006
For those of you nearly doubled over in anticipation, Tori Spelling’s new semi-reality sitcom “So NoTorIous” debuts Sunday night at 9 on VH1.
Spelling, the plain but filthy rich daughter of TV mogul Aaron Spelling, has been parodied her whole life — at least since she joined the cast of Daddy’s “Beverly Hills, 90210” as a teenager. Her (first) wedding was so extravagant that even the star suck-ups at “Entertainment Tonight” were rolling their eyes during coverage.
Tori probably figured she might as well cash in on the jabs and parodies, so her new sitcom — in which she plays her rich-and-spoiled self — does just that. Tori’s real-life mom Candy is said to be miffed at Loni Anderson’s portrayal of the fictional Tori’s mom, but she’ll probably change her mind if the show is a hit.
You or U.S. should decide what’s good to watch?
In a recent survey sponsored by the anti-censorship group TV Watch, an overwhelming majority of registered voters believe that viewers should decide what’s appropriate to watch, not government censors. Surprise, surprise.
The phone survey, conducted by researchers not connected to TV Watch, found that 82 percent favored self-censorship, while only 12 percent preferred to assign that task to the government.
TV Watch’s members include the American Conservative Union, the Media Freedom Project, the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, NBC, CBS, Americans for Tax Reform and The Creative Coalition. Among the individuals in the group is Linda Gale White, former first lady of Texas.
The organization was formed last year to help educate parents about how to make (and enforce) choices for family viewing. A big educational push was made on behalf of the V-chip (which only a small percentage of viewers actually use — or even know how to use). The group also touts blocking devices available on most cable and satellite systems.
Earlier this month, the Federal Communications Commission levied a $3.6 million fine against CBS for an episode of “Without a Trace” that featured a teen sex orgy.
It’s no secret that TV programming has become cruder in terms of sex and language over the years. Producers and network execs say the public prefers this more realistic approach, and the networks say they must provide it to compete with less restricted cable channels such as FX and HBO.
Changing the channel or turning off the set is the logical solution to offensive programming, but some parents argue that they shouldn’t have to watch everything their kids watch on free, over-the-air network TV.
I bet we’ll see a big chill in over-the-air shows come fall, when the networks present their new series. With the FCC in the mood to levy million-fines and a vocal (if apparently smaller) segment of the viewing public ticked off, pushing the envelope may not be as appealing as it once was. Even Steven Bochco admits he doesn’t think “NYPD Blue” could get on the air today.
January 27, 2005
My colleague and next-door-desk neighbor Katy Barron, who writes a column called “Homebody,” has a very funny piece today about those little robotic vacuum cleaners called Roombas.
What does this have to do with the television? Nothing, but Katy’s hilarious description of the Roomba — whirling around her house with a mind of its own, eating her throw rug and getting stuck under her stove — reminded me of a couple of bizarre incidents I’ve had with televisions.
As you might imagine, I put a lot of wear and tear on a TV set. Between recorded programming and broadcast/cablecast fare, I keep the TV humming for several hours a day. Well, several hours a night, actually, since I’m at work, often watching the suspended-from-the-ceiling TV above my desk.
But back to my original Katy-inspired point. I had a large TV in my den a few years ago that, in its waning years, would suddenly begin speaking in Spanish. We never did figure out why or how it would switch itself to the SAP channel, but it did. On a regular basis.
We would be watching a football game or an episode of “The X-Files,” and, through no overt action of our own, the announcers or Mulder would begin to habla español. It was jarring but educational. Before we leaped up to switch off the SAP switch, we picked up a few more words for our Spanish vocabulary.
When we traded in that TV for a new model, I sort of missed hearing Peter Jennings pop into Spanish. We can still use the bilingual switch on the TV, but this new-and-improved model doesn’t do it on its own.
A smaller TV we have in the bedroom is also possessed, which is making me think there’s something going on in our house that should be investigated by the “X Files.” Or ghostbusters. This TV doesn’t speak Spanish, but it does occasionally turn itself on.
My husband and I first noticed this when we were awakened at 2 a.m. to a loud man trying to sell us some sort of kitchen appliance. I staggered out of bed and turned the set off, trying to put out of my mind the chilling suspicion that a burglar was lurking in the house and had brushed against the TV, accidentally turning it on.
The bedroom TV may turn itself on and off during the day, when nobody is home, but the times we’ve seen it happen were always in the middle of the night. The thing just clicks on all by itself and blasts away until somebody turns it off.
This mind-of-its-own appliance isn’t as endearing as the Spanish-speaking TV. In fact, it’s downright creepy, and I’m going to purchase a replacement soon.
December 31, 2004
Last year — and the year before, for that matter — I didn’t make any New Year’s resolution. But I did promise myself last year that I would make some this year.
Resolutions, I’ve found over the years, are pointless if you don’t actually write them down. Nobody’s going to remember them by the end of the month, let alone by the end of the year.
So I’m committing myself to a handful of modest resolutions; to hold my feet to the fire, I’m posting them here for all to see.
I will not watch more than three previews back-to-back. No matter how carefully I take notes, three shows blend together in my addled brain. It’s a fact, and it’s time for me to admit it.
Last fall when I was writing capsule reviews of the new fall shows, I somehow confused the premise of Jason Alexander’s “Listen Up” with John Goodman’s “Center of the Universe.” That happened because I had watched seven pilots in a row. Not good. Thank God for editors.
I will watch more PBS for pleasure. My public television consumption has slacked off because of all those evil reality shows that must be seen when they air, as opposed to the convenient previews supplied for other genres. This year, if I have no clue who’s on “Survivor” or “American Idol” midway through the competitions, I’m not going to feel guilty, especially if it means I can watch a multiepisode installment of “Masterpiece Theatre” without interruption.
I will not use my home previewing time for perpetual grazing. There’s an awful temptation, especially when slogging through groaningly bad sitcom pilots or TV movies, to scarf down anything that’s in the fridge or pantry. During that horrendous “Dynasty: The Making of a Guilty Pleasure” (it’s coming Sunday on ABC, so watch out), I consumed an entire tube of Oreos and was thinking about Pringles by the time Krystle and Alexis fell into that watery catfight.
I will read more books, and not just the ones about television — although Paris Hilton’s “Confessions of an Heiress: A Tongue-in-Chic Peek Behind the Pose” was a riot-and-a-half that I breezed through while waiting in line at Border’s to buy magazines. No, I’m going to read actual books in 2005 — fiction and nonfiction. Stuff with words of more than one syllable and more than 100 pages. Really. I’ve been meaning to read “The Da Vinci Code” and Paul Nagel’s John Quincy Adams biography for months.
I will not get sucked into the History Channel for an entire Sunday afternoon just because I tuned into one episode of “Modern Marvels” and couldn’t stop. This is a sickness, and it’s got to be cured. History Channel addiction is a threat to home and office, and I’ve simply got to get over it.
So there. Those are my resolutions, and I’m sticking to them. I think … Of course, there’s always the possibility that I won’t. But I’m counting on you folks to embarrass me into doing the right thing. Maybe.
December 27, 2004
I recently came to a stunning realization: I watch almost as much television when I’m on vacation as when I’m not.
In defense of myself, let me point out that I didn’t actually go anywhere. I was home nesting and lolling, which I love to do in December. If I had been skiing in Gstaad or surfing in Maui (fat chance), I’m sure my TV time would have been zilch.
I’ve always assumed that I watch hours and hours of TV a week only because I have to. I always look forward to vacation, in part, so that I won’t have to keep up with popular programs, search hundreds of channels for new ones or take notes on dozens of mostly horrid previews.
But over the past few weeks, I not only kept up with a few series, I watched a couple of midseason previews. Let me stop right here and tell you that NBC’s heavily hyped “Medium,” with Patricia Arquette as an overwrought woman solving crimes with ESP, is awful.
Surprisingly, however, CBS’s “Numb3rs” is pretty good. There’s not a TV listing in the world that’s going to spell that squirrelly title with a number. It looks too much like a typo, and I just tangled up the fingers of my left hand trying to render it. Nevertheless, Rob Morrow and David Krumholtz are enjoyable as brothers busting bad guys for the FBI.
And I watched three episodes of the new season of “24,” which has its implausibilities but kept me riveted for three straight hours. Jack Bauer, mulled wine and a roaring fire go very nicely together, thank you.
The anti-TV folks among you will say I’m addicted. I watch so much (too much?) TV because I can’t help myself. I don’t think that’s true. I don’t don’t watch everything when I’m on vacation.
I pick and choose and watch only what I like. I never just sit down and start punching the remote because I’m bored with life. I’ve been known to go for at least a couple of days without turning on the TV. With the exception of the three-episode marathon of “24,” I rarely watch more than a couple of hours at a time unless it’s for work.
And I’m choosey about what I watch when I’m watching for fun. Before they started their holiday reruns, ABC’s Sunday faves “Desperate Housewives” and “Boston Legal” had terrific episodes, by the way.
Now that I’m back at work, I’ll dive into the dreaded reality sludge, watch more news programming and tackle all the midseason previews that have piled up on my desk while I was gone.
Oddly enough (and this is perhaps an even more stunning confession), I’m looking forward to it. I’m glad to be back!
August 29, 2004
*NOTE TO READERS: I promised, when I began writing the daily TV blog, that I wasn’t going to write about my personal life. I didn’t want it to become a diary filled with embarrassing revelations.
But television isn’t on my mind right now, even though I’m preparing to hunker down for four days of watching the Republican Convention. I wrote this little essay about what IS on my mind, and I hope some of you will understand and appreciate the brief diversion …*
This is the time of year when the scent of freshly sharpened pencils usually wafts through our house.
Colored folders, stacks of notebook paper and a brand-new (but soon to be smelly) gym bag are scattered about — along with fresh hopes for a happy and brilliant school year.
But this back-to-school year is different. There’s no eau de pencil, no school supplies. Instead, there’s a big suitcase and boxes to be packed, a one-way airplane ticket has been bought.
My baby boy is flying off to college in Boston. He’ll be gone by Labor Day and won’t be home until Christmas.
I’ll visit him in October for Parents’ Weekend, but he’s opting to spend Thanksgiving with a cousin in New Hampshire rather than fight crowded airports for two days at home before final exams arrive in early December.
So this is an exciting but not totally happy time in our house.
It’s the end of an era. I won’t be there to welcome him home after the first day of classes. My husband and I will be cell-phone parents, straining to read vocal intonations from a thousand miles away.
For the first time, I won’t get to meet his teachers or his new friends. I won’t get to check on homework or beg for details about his social life. I won’t spend weekends driving around Texas searching for cross-country track meets in the middle of nowhere.
And for the first extended time in 18 years, I won’t be able to sneak into his room and watch him sleeping.
He’s on his own, and so am I. He’ll do fine, but will I? The proverbial empty nest is going to be painfully empty — except for the dog, who will mourn in loud, obnoxious, houndlike fashion.
My husband and I work, so we won’t be sitting around wondering what to do with ourselves. We’re planning to have a more active social life with our friends. We’ll be available, now that we won’t be waiting for a car to pull in the driveway at curfew. Or the phone to ring with a semi-plausible excuse.
Parenting is a series of goodbyes — from weaning to school to driver’s licenses to college. You hope some hellos will be sprinkled among the goodbyes, and you hope the boy who leaves will become the man he seemed destined to be. And you hope he deals with the separation better than we will.
We’ve done our best, we love him more than he’ll ever know. And we’re proud he’s starting a new life on his own.
But we’re struggling with this goodbye, and so are parents everywhere, quiver-chinned moms and dads packing suitcases and buying one-way tickets to far away places. My best friend Missy, who lives in Washington, D.C., went through this trauma two years ago, so I asked for advice. Her reply is worth repeating:
“It’s tough sledding for a while. You just tuck your kid up under a sweet spot in your heart and move along, bringing him out when he’s around and keeping him safe while he’s gone.”
Maybe if I sharpen a few pencils …
