Since my plan to blog about He-Man and She-Ra was foiled by some sort of technical difficulty, and I'm not sitting through that thing twice in one night, I guess I'll blog about this episode of one of the best shows ever.
It begins with Blanche coming in the door, making sure none of the roommates are home, and then beckoning in her gentleman caller-- a mall Santa on his lunch break. Of course, the other three come home just as Blanche is running back out into the living room in Santa's beard. Dorothy deadpans, "Let me guess... you didn't expect us home so soon?" Rose is horrified that Santa would defile his uniform. Santa just slips out the door wordlessly. Wise man.
The girls are jaded by the overcrowded shopping mall and impersonal gifts, so they decide that they will all make gifts for each other. Sophia is less than impressed with this idea.
Next thing you know, it's the night before Christmas Eve, and the girls are exchanging their gifts before leaving to be with their families the following day. Rose's gift to Dorothy is a maple syrup spicket. Just to be mean, Sophia brings up the fact that Rose had originally planned to give Dorothy a set of pearl earrings.
Blanche's gift to everyone is a calendar-- The Men of Blanche's Boudoir. Somewhere there is a gag reel clip where the producers and crew pasted pictures of themselves onto the prop calendars. It does not appear to be on youtube.
It's mentioned before the girls head to bed that Rose has to work in the morning, so the others will have to pick her up on their way to the airport. So you know that's going to be important.
Sure enough, Dorothy and Blanche come in to the grief center to pick up Rose while Sophia is waiting in the car. They encounter a man who plays with matches and a pathological liar while waiting for Rose to finish counseling one of the principal backers of Howard the Duck. Then, in walks a Santa with a gun. But he doesn't want money, he just wants some people to spend Christmas with. When they ask why the gun, he makes the fair point that if he'd just asked them to spend Christmas with him, they wouldn't have done it.
Soon Sophia walks in to see what's taking so long. Being the fearless Italian that she is, she grabs the gun and exclaims, "This is a toy!" Then chides Dorothy, "You call yourself an Italian and you can't tell the difference between a toy and a real piece?"
The girls make it to the airport just in time to hear that all flights are cancelled due to weather. Sophia takes her anger out on a Hare Krishna.
Next we see them at a diner, and we're told that they've had car trouble since we last saw them. Blanche mentions that she met her husband on Christmas Eve, and then goes on to tell a story that Dorothy claims one could get herpes just by hearing. Which turns out not to be the story of how she met George at all, just a more interesting story. The waiter gives the girls complimentary cheesecake, and when he hears that they're having a rough Christmas, says that he's sad he has to work instead of being at home with his family. He is shocked to hear them say that they can't be with their families either-- from hearing them talk, he assumed they were family. It's not mentioned that Dorothy and Sophia are. The girls are touched that it took a total stranger to point out that they are spending Christmas with family. Things get a little sappy for a moment, until Sophia says "What the hell is this, The Waltons?" I love Sophia.
To repay the waiter, they offer to watch the diner for him so he can spend a little time with his family. Which seems like a liability issue waiting to happen, but he's thrilled to take them up on it.
The girls then realize it's snowing- unusual for Miami- and go to put mood music on the jukebox, but Rose hits the wrong button and it's The Beach Boys "Surfin Safari." Dorothy declares, "This Christmas, it fits" and we fade out on a Christmas-Card-esque picture of the four of them gazing out the window.
I need some sleep! Merry Christmas!
Visuals: 3 out of 5
Spirit: 3.5 out of 5
Nostalgia: 3 out of 5
Humor: 5 out of 5
Music: 1 out of 5
Overall: 3.5 out of 5
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Interim frustration...
Well, crap. I had typed up a blog about the He-Man and She-Ra Christmas special, and when I went to post it, it vanished into thin air. Suddenly I wasn't logged in anymore, and the draft didn't save. I guess blogger is not all about He-Man and She-Ra. I'm not watching that thing again, so I'll have to figure out something else.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Twelve Blogs of Christmas #11: A Muppet Family Christmas
My FAVORITE SPECIAL EVER-- so I have to be brief, or else I'll be overly verbose. Seriously, this special is exactly like curling up under a warm blanket and catching up with dear friends. It's the only time ALL THE MUPPETS were ever ALL together.
Bootlegs of this special are very precious, because not only does it not air on TV anymore, it has never been released on dvd in its entirety. A version was released at some point in the 90's, but it was missing FIVE SONGS, y'all. Which caused a massive outcry among fans. And now, all the Muppet franchises within are owned by different companies, so it would be a copyright nightmare to try and release it again.
Begins with the Muppets singing "We Need a Little Christmas" on their way to Fozzie's mother's house, where they will arrive without calling. Unbeknownst to them, Mrs. Bear is planning to spend Christmas in Malibu while renting her house out to Doc from Fraggle Rock.
Animal has two Crowning Moments of Funny in a row-- first "Peace on Earth-- Gimme Presents!" then answering the phone only to declare "oh. Pig." and throw it down. Meanwhile, Sam the Eagle wonders "Why am I here?" I have found myself quoting that more than once.
The chef doesn't want rats and chickens in his kitchen, so they send them up to his bedroom. A turkey has arrived for the holiday, and Gonzo tries to warn him, but the turkey doesn't listen to Gonzo. Kermit and Robin sing "Jingle Bells" which then blends into an Electric Mayhem rendition of "Jingle Bell Rock."
Fozzie builds a snowman and quickly bonds with him, forming a comedy team. They sing a song that kind of resembles "Sleigh Ride." All the woodland animals are chuckling, and so is Doc. Also, by now the "careful of the icy patch" running gag has been established. Just go with it. Oh, and also, it's cold enough to freeze your Winnebago. I always say that when it's really cold, and for some reason, people look at me funny.
Classic line! "I don't care if the turkey says the dog's the turkey! The dog is not the turkey! The turkey's the turkey, you turkey!"
They all watch a video of when they were the Muppet Babies, which defies all laws of continuity, but the Muppets have always played fast and loose with continuity. The baby Muppets sing "Santa Claus is Coming to Town."
The Sesame Street gang arrives caroling (singing "Deck the Halls"), which then leads to my favorite exchange.
"Hi there, we're Ernie and Bert!"
"Well, hi there yourself, I'm Doc."
"Did you know Doc starts with the letter 'D'?"
"Yes."
"And yes starts with the letter 'y'!"
"True..."
"And true starts with the letter 't'!"
"What is this?"
"Where we come from, this is small talk."
The turkey diverts the chef's attention to Big Bird. There is thunder.
The Sesame Street gang puts on a play of "Twas the Night Before Christmas," which leads Sam the Eagle to cry out, "Is nothing sacred?"
Bonds are forming-- Oscar the Grouch welcomes Rizzo the Rat into his can, Animal likes Cookie Monster.
Kermit's starting to worry about Miss Piggy, who hasn't made it to the farmhouse yet, and the weather is starting to get bad. Fozzie wants to cheer Kermit up with a comedy routine, but this plan is ruined by Statler and Waldorf, who have appeared out of nowhere to visit Fozzie's mom, Fozzie just stands there, all "Is my mom having tea with Cthulhu?"
Big Bird gives the chef a gift and they sing "The Christmas Song" together, so the chef decides there will be no bird-eating this Christmas, instead they will all have shredded wheat and cranberry sauce.
Doc sets off to find Miss Piggy, showing what a sweet guy he really is, which always surprised me when I was little- for some reason, I always thought Doc would be mean. I don't know why I thought that, except that the Fraggles were always trying not to be seen by him. Speaking of the Fraggles, Kermit and Robin go through a Fraggle hole and meet them. Robin describes Christmas to the Fraggles as "when you gather together with those you love, and wish each other peace on Earth," which I have always liked, and it sounds like what Jim Henson would have said. The Fraggles are also celebrating an unnamed holiday, which involves them taking turns giving each other the same nice shiny pebble. This year, Mokey gives it to Boober, who then gives it to Robin. They sing a song called "Pass It On," which is an original to the Fraggles, but not to this special.
Miss Piggy arrives, not freezing and sickly like Kermit expects, but in a dog sled, with a fancy white coat and Doc in a costume with a tall fur hat, that I feel like there ought to be a term for, but I don't know what it is. She and Kermit have an actual romantic moment as she sings "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays," and then she slips on the icy patch.
All the Muppets have a massive carol sing, which is so loud that even the Fraggles come out to investigate. But the special doesn't end there-- first Kermit gives Miss Piggy a live mink (who claims to be her biggest fan) and Robin gives Grover the Fraggle pebble that Boober gave him. And I just now realized that my bootleg is missing a tiny scene of Fozzie's mom hanging his stocking. Well, that's very disheartening. I really thought I had the whole thing. But wait- I have another bootleg around somewhere. I'll have to check that one.
BUT the most important part comes after all of that, after Doc has come in dressed as Santa and the Muppets have begun singing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" when Jim Henson pokes his head out of the kitchen and says to Sprocket, "Well, they certainly seem to be having a good time out there, Sprocket. I like it when they have a good time." And I tear up a little, because I imagine him saying that now as he looks down at his creations and fans still enjoying his work. Jim Henson cameos were always rare, so this special is a rare and precious gem indeed.
Visuals: 4 out of 5
Spirit: 5 out of 5
Nostalgia: 5 out of 5
Humor: 5 out of 5
Music: 5 out of 5
Overall: 5 out of 5
Bootlegs of this special are very precious, because not only does it not air on TV anymore, it has never been released on dvd in its entirety. A version was released at some point in the 90's, but it was missing FIVE SONGS, y'all. Which caused a massive outcry among fans. And now, all the Muppet franchises within are owned by different companies, so it would be a copyright nightmare to try and release it again.
Begins with the Muppets singing "We Need a Little Christmas" on their way to Fozzie's mother's house, where they will arrive without calling. Unbeknownst to them, Mrs. Bear is planning to spend Christmas in Malibu while renting her house out to Doc from Fraggle Rock.
Animal has two Crowning Moments of Funny in a row-- first "Peace on Earth-- Gimme Presents!" then answering the phone only to declare "oh. Pig." and throw it down. Meanwhile, Sam the Eagle wonders "Why am I here?" I have found myself quoting that more than once.
The chef doesn't want rats and chickens in his kitchen, so they send them up to his bedroom. A turkey has arrived for the holiday, and Gonzo tries to warn him, but the turkey doesn't listen to Gonzo. Kermit and Robin sing "Jingle Bells" which then blends into an Electric Mayhem rendition of "Jingle Bell Rock."
Fozzie builds a snowman and quickly bonds with him, forming a comedy team. They sing a song that kind of resembles "Sleigh Ride." All the woodland animals are chuckling, and so is Doc. Also, by now the "careful of the icy patch" running gag has been established. Just go with it. Oh, and also, it's cold enough to freeze your Winnebago. I always say that when it's really cold, and for some reason, people look at me funny.
Classic line! "I don't care if the turkey says the dog's the turkey! The dog is not the turkey! The turkey's the turkey, you turkey!"
They all watch a video of when they were the Muppet Babies, which defies all laws of continuity, but the Muppets have always played fast and loose with continuity. The baby Muppets sing "Santa Claus is Coming to Town."
The Sesame Street gang arrives caroling (singing "Deck the Halls"), which then leads to my favorite exchange.
"Hi there, we're Ernie and Bert!"
"Well, hi there yourself, I'm Doc."
"Did you know Doc starts with the letter 'D'?"
"Yes."
"And yes starts with the letter 'y'!"
"True..."
"And true starts with the letter 't'!"
"What is this?"
"Where we come from, this is small talk."
The turkey diverts the chef's attention to Big Bird. There is thunder.
The Sesame Street gang puts on a play of "Twas the Night Before Christmas," which leads Sam the Eagle to cry out, "Is nothing sacred?"
Bonds are forming-- Oscar the Grouch welcomes Rizzo the Rat into his can, Animal likes Cookie Monster.
Kermit's starting to worry about Miss Piggy, who hasn't made it to the farmhouse yet, and the weather is starting to get bad. Fozzie wants to cheer Kermit up with a comedy routine, but this plan is ruined by Statler and Waldorf, who have appeared out of nowhere to visit Fozzie's mom, Fozzie just stands there, all "Is my mom having tea with Cthulhu?"
Big Bird gives the chef a gift and they sing "The Christmas Song" together, so the chef decides there will be no bird-eating this Christmas, instead they will all have shredded wheat and cranberry sauce.
Doc sets off to find Miss Piggy, showing what a sweet guy he really is, which always surprised me when I was little- for some reason, I always thought Doc would be mean. I don't know why I thought that, except that the Fraggles were always trying not to be seen by him. Speaking of the Fraggles, Kermit and Robin go through a Fraggle hole and meet them. Robin describes Christmas to the Fraggles as "when you gather together with those you love, and wish each other peace on Earth," which I have always liked, and it sounds like what Jim Henson would have said. The Fraggles are also celebrating an unnamed holiday, which involves them taking turns giving each other the same nice shiny pebble. This year, Mokey gives it to Boober, who then gives it to Robin. They sing a song called "Pass It On," which is an original to the Fraggles, but not to this special.
Miss Piggy arrives, not freezing and sickly like Kermit expects, but in a dog sled, with a fancy white coat and Doc in a costume with a tall fur hat, that I feel like there ought to be a term for, but I don't know what it is. She and Kermit have an actual romantic moment as she sings "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays," and then she slips on the icy patch.
All the Muppets have a massive carol sing, which is so loud that even the Fraggles come out to investigate. But the special doesn't end there-- first Kermit gives Miss Piggy a live mink (who claims to be her biggest fan) and Robin gives Grover the Fraggle pebble that Boober gave him. And I just now realized that my bootleg is missing a tiny scene of Fozzie's mom hanging his stocking. Well, that's very disheartening. I really thought I had the whole thing. But wait- I have another bootleg around somewhere. I'll have to check that one.
BUT the most important part comes after all of that, after Doc has come in dressed as Santa and the Muppets have begun singing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" when Jim Henson pokes his head out of the kitchen and says to Sprocket, "Well, they certainly seem to be having a good time out there, Sprocket. I like it when they have a good time." And I tear up a little, because I imagine him saying that now as he looks down at his creations and fans still enjoying his work. Jim Henson cameos were always rare, so this special is a rare and precious gem indeed.
Visuals: 4 out of 5
Spirit: 5 out of 5
Nostalgia: 5 out of 5
Humor: 5 out of 5
Music: 5 out of 5
Overall: 5 out of 5
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Twelve Blogs of Christmas #10: The Smurfs Christmas Special
From 1982, the year I was born, comes this little gem starring everybody's favorite blue creatures and... Satan. You think I'm kidding, but the villain in this story is Satan. They don't come out and say it, but it's pretty clear.
Three things are happening:
1. The smurfs are getting ready for their Christmas celebration.
2. Gargamel is complaining about Christmas and how he hates the smurfs. What is his deal with them? Does he just hate them because they are there? I never understood.
3. Two kids are riding a sleigh with their grandfather, on their way to visit their uncle, when their sleigh is flipped by an encounter with some unseen animal.
From there, these events converge as the kids knock on Gargamel's door for help and tell him that their grandfather is unconscious in the snow. Gargamel slams the door in their faces, because he is a jerk. Meanwhile, the kids' uncle has realized that they should have arrived by now, so he sends out a search party.
Gargamel is still whining when the mysterious dude who is totally Satan shows up at Gargamel's door. He offers to give Gargamel the power to destroy the smurfs if Gargamel kidnaps the children for him. His reason is that the kids' uncle does too much good, and gets in the way of his work. See what I mean?
The children are singing, and the smurfs hear them and rush to their aid. Papa Smurf dispatches the others to find the sleigh, which they do, and the uncle has left a note on it saying that grandpa is okay.
For some reason, the children think Papa Smurf is Santa. They may both wear red and have white beards, but Santa has never been described as tiny and blue. The smurfs all sing a song that says "Goodness makes the badness go away."
Gargamel appears and grabs the children. Poor Azrael is trailing after him through the snow. The smurfs follow and are understandably disturbed to hear that Satan is giving Gargamel the means to destroy the smurf village. Which apparently, based on Gargamel's subsequent actions, involve standing outside the mushroom houses taunting the smurfs, who aren't even home. Oh, ok, he says some words to make the mushrooms shrivel up. Or something.
Gargamel then tries to tell the uncle that the children have been kidnapped so he can collect a reward. Satan is none too pleased to hear this. So he makes a bunch of snakes appear. Yeah, that happened. The smurfs are so freaked out that they're beginning to even worry about Gargamel. Which is fair, because as Gargamel is trying to excuse himself, Satan says, "Someone as nasty as you is always of use to me in my work. Therefore, you'll accompany me and the children on THE FINAL JOURNEY." When the children ask where they are going, he says, "Home. MY HOME" and a ring of fire appears around all of them. SEE?
The smurfs are still close by, and as usual, Papa Smurf knows just what to do. He gets the smurfs to sing their song as loud as they can, because the power of goodness really will make the badness go away. He yells to the kids to join in, and they do, which seems to make the fire go down some. But what really does the trick is when Gargamel joins in. The fire disappears, and so does Satan. And at that exact moment, the uncle and grandfather appear. Gargamel is about to collect his reward when the children tell the uncle that he was mean to them. But then they say not to hurt him, because it's Christmas. Sadly, it does not seem that Gargamel's heart has grown three sizes this day. He runs off, still complaining about things being unfair or something.
Smurf village is still looking sparse, until suddenly it isn't, because it's a Christmas miracle, I guess. And that's pretty much that.
Visuals: 2 out of 5
Spirit: 2 out of 5
Nostalgia: 3 out of 5
Humor: 2 out of 5
Music: 1 out of 5
Overall: 2 out of 5
Three things are happening:
1. The smurfs are getting ready for their Christmas celebration.
2. Gargamel is complaining about Christmas and how he hates the smurfs. What is his deal with them? Does he just hate them because they are there? I never understood.
3. Two kids are riding a sleigh with their grandfather, on their way to visit their uncle, when their sleigh is flipped by an encounter with some unseen animal.
From there, these events converge as the kids knock on Gargamel's door for help and tell him that their grandfather is unconscious in the snow. Gargamel slams the door in their faces, because he is a jerk. Meanwhile, the kids' uncle has realized that they should have arrived by now, so he sends out a search party.
Gargamel is still whining when the mysterious dude who is totally Satan shows up at Gargamel's door. He offers to give Gargamel the power to destroy the smurfs if Gargamel kidnaps the children for him. His reason is that the kids' uncle does too much good, and gets in the way of his work. See what I mean?
The children are singing, and the smurfs hear them and rush to their aid. Papa Smurf dispatches the others to find the sleigh, which they do, and the uncle has left a note on it saying that grandpa is okay.
For some reason, the children think Papa Smurf is Santa. They may both wear red and have white beards, but Santa has never been described as tiny and blue. The smurfs all sing a song that says "Goodness makes the badness go away."
Gargamel appears and grabs the children. Poor Azrael is trailing after him through the snow. The smurfs follow and are understandably disturbed to hear that Satan is giving Gargamel the means to destroy the smurf village. Which apparently, based on Gargamel's subsequent actions, involve standing outside the mushroom houses taunting the smurfs, who aren't even home. Oh, ok, he says some words to make the mushrooms shrivel up. Or something.
Gargamel then tries to tell the uncle that the children have been kidnapped so he can collect a reward. Satan is none too pleased to hear this. So he makes a bunch of snakes appear. Yeah, that happened. The smurfs are so freaked out that they're beginning to even worry about Gargamel. Which is fair, because as Gargamel is trying to excuse himself, Satan says, "Someone as nasty as you is always of use to me in my work. Therefore, you'll accompany me and the children on THE FINAL JOURNEY." When the children ask where they are going, he says, "Home. MY HOME" and a ring of fire appears around all of them. SEE?
The smurfs are still close by, and as usual, Papa Smurf knows just what to do. He gets the smurfs to sing their song as loud as they can, because the power of goodness really will make the badness go away. He yells to the kids to join in, and they do, which seems to make the fire go down some. But what really does the trick is when Gargamel joins in. The fire disappears, and so does Satan. And at that exact moment, the uncle and grandfather appear. Gargamel is about to collect his reward when the children tell the uncle that he was mean to them. But then they say not to hurt him, because it's Christmas. Sadly, it does not seem that Gargamel's heart has grown three sizes this day. He runs off, still complaining about things being unfair or something.
Smurf village is still looking sparse, until suddenly it isn't, because it's a Christmas miracle, I guess. And that's pretty much that.
Visuals: 2 out of 5
Spirit: 2 out of 5
Nostalgia: 3 out of 5
Humor: 2 out of 5
Music: 1 out of 5
Overall: 2 out of 5
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Twelve Blogs of Christmas #9: Scrubs "My Own Personal Jesus"
I have to admit that I've had a little trouble getting into the Christmas spirit this year. I have had to make myself go through my normally much-anticipated rituals, and I haven't even watched some of my very favorite Christmas specials. So, tonight I'm watching an episode about people who are having trouble getting into the spirit, which is what JD opens this first-season episode telling us. Spending all your time in the hospital, including Christmas Eve, kind of puts a damper on holiday festivities. So he's coping with inappropriate bikini fantasies. Of course.
Elliot is working in the free clinic, where Dr. Kelso is being mean and sexist, because that's what he does. Oh, and she has a 19-year-old patient with abdominal pain who turns out to be eight months pregnant and didn't know it. This is only mentioned in dialogue, but it will become important.
JD has an amusing fantasy about being able to fix a patient like the Fonz fixes the jukebox, and then his patient actually does wake up and surprise everyone, which Turk proclaims a miracle. Turk is portrayed as very religious in this episode (not Conservative or obnoxious about it, just very devoted to his faith), and I can't think of a single other episode where that was the case. Maybe it's just not something he talks about except at Christmas time. He tries to get JD and Carla into the spirit by pointing out a bright star in the distance and comparing it to the star of Bethlehem. JD is like, yeah, whatever, that's the Christmas tree in the park. Because symbolism means nothing to him.
Elliot's patient is rhapsodizing about the very tree that the others were just looking at when Elliot drops the pregnancy bombshell. Then, because she wants to prove Kelso was wrong when he said she would eventually turn to a "female specialty," she ditches the patient. Whose name is Meredith, which is my middle name.
In the cafeteria, Turk is wearing antlers and a Rudolph nose and still trying to rally the troops. Laverne, who will later become the show's token outspoken Christian, is as despondent as everyone else. Turk wants JD and Carla to go to Christmas mass with him between night shift and morning shift. Wow, that is dedication. JD is whining about not wanting to go to mass and knocks over a Christmas tree. Yeah... one guess which character is not at all happy about that.
JD is videotaping a birth, but that doesn't have much to do with anything...
Elliot's patient took off; that's not the least bit surprising.
While Turk is trying to sleep in the on call room, we get a little song about what goes on in the hospital on Christmas Eve:
Twelve beaten children
Eleven drive-by shootings
Ten frozen homeless
Nine amputations
Eight burn victims
Seven strangled shoppers
Six random knifings
Five suicides
Four beaten wives
Three O.D.'s
Two shattered skulls
And a drunk who drove into a tree
I think that's kind of the textbook definition of crossing the line from funny into NOT EVEN FUNNY.
By the time the night's over, Turk's spirit has been beaten out of him. He calls off the plans for mass and declares he's NEVER going back. Elliot is trying to track down the pregnant girl, even though it's her day off, but she's not having any luck. And Dr. Kelso is making fun of her. What an ass.
Carla takes Turk up to the rooftop at dusk to try and lift his spirits, but it doesn't work. Just after we see Elliot tell JD that she reached a 911 operator who got a call from a girl in labor but then lost the signal, we're back on the roof, where it's now night time, with Turk, who is sadly playing with his cross necklace when he looks up and sees the star in the park. Something unseen moves him to action. He runs all the way to the tree in the park, where sure enough, Meredith is in labor, alone and scared. They skip over the delivery, so next thing we see is the whole gang surrounding her and her newborn, as well as EMTS. Carla asks Turk how he knew Meredith was there, and he doesn't know how he knew-- he just knew. JD's voiceover states that Turk was right all along, and miracles do happen if you're willing to look for them. He has a weird little moment of imagining all the people there as a nativity scene. We don't see where Meredith and her baby go, as after the fantasy, it's just the four main characters gazing up at the tree. JD earnestly says, "God bless us, every one." And they all call him a big dork, which I guess he deserves. I love him though- except for the inappropriate bikini fantasies.
Visuals: 2 out of 5
Spirit: 3 out of 5
Nostalgia: 1 out of 5
Humor: 4 out of 5
Music: 1 out of 5
Overall: 3.5 out of 5
Elliot is working in the free clinic, where Dr. Kelso is being mean and sexist, because that's what he does. Oh, and she has a 19-year-old patient with abdominal pain who turns out to be eight months pregnant and didn't know it. This is only mentioned in dialogue, but it will become important.
JD has an amusing fantasy about being able to fix a patient like the Fonz fixes the jukebox, and then his patient actually does wake up and surprise everyone, which Turk proclaims a miracle. Turk is portrayed as very religious in this episode (not Conservative or obnoxious about it, just very devoted to his faith), and I can't think of a single other episode where that was the case. Maybe it's just not something he talks about except at Christmas time. He tries to get JD and Carla into the spirit by pointing out a bright star in the distance and comparing it to the star of Bethlehem. JD is like, yeah, whatever, that's the Christmas tree in the park. Because symbolism means nothing to him.
Elliot's patient is rhapsodizing about the very tree that the others were just looking at when Elliot drops the pregnancy bombshell. Then, because she wants to prove Kelso was wrong when he said she would eventually turn to a "female specialty," she ditches the patient. Whose name is Meredith, which is my middle name.
In the cafeteria, Turk is wearing antlers and a Rudolph nose and still trying to rally the troops. Laverne, who will later become the show's token outspoken Christian, is as despondent as everyone else. Turk wants JD and Carla to go to Christmas mass with him between night shift and morning shift. Wow, that is dedication. JD is whining about not wanting to go to mass and knocks over a Christmas tree. Yeah... one guess which character is not at all happy about that.
JD is videotaping a birth, but that doesn't have much to do with anything...
Elliot's patient took off; that's not the least bit surprising.
While Turk is trying to sleep in the on call room, we get a little song about what goes on in the hospital on Christmas Eve:
Twelve beaten children
Eleven drive-by shootings
Ten frozen homeless
Nine amputations
Eight burn victims
Seven strangled shoppers
Six random knifings
Five suicides
Four beaten wives
Three O.D.'s
Two shattered skulls
And a drunk who drove into a tree
I think that's kind of the textbook definition of crossing the line from funny into NOT EVEN FUNNY.
By the time the night's over, Turk's spirit has been beaten out of him. He calls off the plans for mass and declares he's NEVER going back. Elliot is trying to track down the pregnant girl, even though it's her day off, but she's not having any luck. And Dr. Kelso is making fun of her. What an ass.
Carla takes Turk up to the rooftop at dusk to try and lift his spirits, but it doesn't work. Just after we see Elliot tell JD that she reached a 911 operator who got a call from a girl in labor but then lost the signal, we're back on the roof, where it's now night time, with Turk, who is sadly playing with his cross necklace when he looks up and sees the star in the park. Something unseen moves him to action. He runs all the way to the tree in the park, where sure enough, Meredith is in labor, alone and scared. They skip over the delivery, so next thing we see is the whole gang surrounding her and her newborn, as well as EMTS. Carla asks Turk how he knew Meredith was there, and he doesn't know how he knew-- he just knew. JD's voiceover states that Turk was right all along, and miracles do happen if you're willing to look for them. He has a weird little moment of imagining all the people there as a nativity scene. We don't see where Meredith and her baby go, as after the fantasy, it's just the four main characters gazing up at the tree. JD earnestly says, "God bless us, every one." And they all call him a big dork, which I guess he deserves. I love him though- except for the inappropriate bikini fantasies.
Visuals: 2 out of 5
Spirit: 3 out of 5
Nostalgia: 1 out of 5
Humor: 4 out of 5
Music: 1 out of 5
Overall: 3.5 out of 5
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Twelve Blogs of Christmas #8: Family Matters "Christmas is Where the Heart Is"
I think we can all agree that Family Matters was never a great show. It ran the gamut from overly sappy to just freaking weird. I have to admit that when Urkel was at the height of his popularity, I was just at the target age to find him hilarious, so in my mind, there's a weird mix of nostalgia mixed with embarrassment associated with this show.
However. I have a special nostalgia reserved for their Christmas episodes. They always used their trademark sappiness to their advantage when it came to Christmas. I have been disappointed that Nick at Nite has been showing episodes lately, but not Christmas episodes. However, I did manage to find one and DVR it. I don't remember this one specifically, but I'll watch and blog and see what we've got here.
Teaser: Richie taking bribes and telling family members where gifts are hidden.
After opening sequence: It's Christmas Eve. Winslow house is all decked out in Christmas cheer, but the patriarch isn't in the spirit because, he says, Christmas brings out the worst in people. As a cop, he's seeing the bottom of the barrel. Next scene reveals Urkel, wrapping gifts in the Winslow kitchen, who knows why. He's pretty muscular at this point, so I think we're mid-series. Urkel is anal about gift wrapping-- "Gifts are like fish- wrap them badly, and they stink." He's less than impressed with Carl's sloppy attempt to wrap a music box, so he offers to do it for him. I expect him to end up breaking the music box, but, to my surprise, it's Carl that breaks it, by dropping a heavier gift on top of it. Carl appears shell-shocked. Urkel has to gently prod him to go out and buy a new gift. He mentions they'll take the train, and you know as well as I do that sitcom characters only use public transportation when something bad is about to happen.
The people on the train are in very poor spirits. Fistfights, name calling, a drunk guy in a Santa suit, you get the picture. Carl makes the mistake of saying "things can't get any worse." That's NEVER a good thing to say! Immediately, the power goes out and the train grinds to a halt.
In a manner reminiscent of the episode of Full House with Christmas in the airport, Urkel attempts to rally everyone on the train car together to make the best of their predicament. However, he gets a more realistic response than Uncle Jesse did, in that everyone just glares at him like, "who is this nerd, and why won't he shut up?" One person even throws something at him.
Back at the Winslow homestead, the power is out there too. Grandma is reading the Christmas story from the Bible. They're worried about Dad.
Back on the train, Steve is trying to get the train passengers to sing "12 Days of Christmas." Only one guy takes him up on it, giving an enthusiastic "FIVE GOOOOOOOLDEN RIIIIIIIIIINGS." But by the time the song is over, people are threatening him with actual physical violence. Instead of sitting down and shutting up like most people would, he speechifies some more, but this time actually gets somewhere when he starts talking to people-- asks one woman about her grandchildren, another about her engagement ring. These very people who were threatening him moments before begin to soften. He then gets into "Christmas is a feeling, it can be anywhere" part of his speech, and yeah, he's ripping Uncle Jesse off wholesale. And by this time, the whole car has softened, and they set to work decorating a tree that someone had with him. As soon as everyone's spirits have been properly lifted, the train starts moving again. Huzzah! Carl starts singing "Hark the Herald Angel Sings," and this time everyone joins in. We fade out and credits roll without even checking in with the rest of the Winslows.
That... was a lot cheesier than I remembered the Christmas episodes being. Kind of disappointing.
Visuals: 1 out of 5
Spirit: 2 out of 5
Nostalgia: 2 out of 5
Humor: 2 out of 5
Music: 0 out of 5
Overall: 2 out of 5
However. I have a special nostalgia reserved for their Christmas episodes. They always used their trademark sappiness to their advantage when it came to Christmas. I have been disappointed that Nick at Nite has been showing episodes lately, but not Christmas episodes. However, I did manage to find one and DVR it. I don't remember this one specifically, but I'll watch and blog and see what we've got here.
Teaser: Richie taking bribes and telling family members where gifts are hidden.
After opening sequence: It's Christmas Eve. Winslow house is all decked out in Christmas cheer, but the patriarch isn't in the spirit because, he says, Christmas brings out the worst in people. As a cop, he's seeing the bottom of the barrel. Next scene reveals Urkel, wrapping gifts in the Winslow kitchen, who knows why. He's pretty muscular at this point, so I think we're mid-series. Urkel is anal about gift wrapping-- "Gifts are like fish- wrap them badly, and they stink." He's less than impressed with Carl's sloppy attempt to wrap a music box, so he offers to do it for him. I expect him to end up breaking the music box, but, to my surprise, it's Carl that breaks it, by dropping a heavier gift on top of it. Carl appears shell-shocked. Urkel has to gently prod him to go out and buy a new gift. He mentions they'll take the train, and you know as well as I do that sitcom characters only use public transportation when something bad is about to happen.
The people on the train are in very poor spirits. Fistfights, name calling, a drunk guy in a Santa suit, you get the picture. Carl makes the mistake of saying "things can't get any worse." That's NEVER a good thing to say! Immediately, the power goes out and the train grinds to a halt.
In a manner reminiscent of the episode of Full House with Christmas in the airport, Urkel attempts to rally everyone on the train car together to make the best of their predicament. However, he gets a more realistic response than Uncle Jesse did, in that everyone just glares at him like, "who is this nerd, and why won't he shut up?" One person even throws something at him.
Back at the Winslow homestead, the power is out there too. Grandma is reading the Christmas story from the Bible. They're worried about Dad.
Back on the train, Steve is trying to get the train passengers to sing "12 Days of Christmas." Only one guy takes him up on it, giving an enthusiastic "FIVE GOOOOOOOLDEN RIIIIIIIIIINGS." But by the time the song is over, people are threatening him with actual physical violence. Instead of sitting down and shutting up like most people would, he speechifies some more, but this time actually gets somewhere when he starts talking to people-- asks one woman about her grandchildren, another about her engagement ring. These very people who were threatening him moments before begin to soften. He then gets into "Christmas is a feeling, it can be anywhere" part of his speech, and yeah, he's ripping Uncle Jesse off wholesale. And by this time, the whole car has softened, and they set to work decorating a tree that someone had with him. As soon as everyone's spirits have been properly lifted, the train starts moving again. Huzzah! Carl starts singing "Hark the Herald Angel Sings," and this time everyone joins in. We fade out and credits roll without even checking in with the rest of the Winslows.
That... was a lot cheesier than I remembered the Christmas episodes being. Kind of disappointing.
Visuals: 1 out of 5
Spirit: 2 out of 5
Nostalgia: 2 out of 5
Humor: 2 out of 5
Music: 0 out of 5
Overall: 2 out of 5
Monday, December 19, 2011
Twelve Blogs of Christmas #7: The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus
One of the lesser-known Rankin-Bass specials, from 1985. I didn't see it until the late 90's, but quickly fell in love with because of the faerie elements. It's based on a book by L. Frank Baum, which I have never read, but would like to. According to various internet sources that may or may not be correct, this was the last stop-motion Rankin-Bass specials AND the only one without a narrator.
Tingler, a sound nymph, is talking to the Great Ak. Both of them are impressive figures-- they don't look animated at all; they just look like dolls. Which I guess is what they are. Another lady arrives on the scene, and we're told that what's happening, basically, is that the immortals are gathering because tonight will be Santa's last sleigh ride. In other words, Santa's about to kick the bucket. The Great Ak is pitching the idea that Santa be granted immortality. Ladies and gentlemen, your frame story.
So, we flashback to Santa's origins: the Great Ak found a baby in the woods and took it to a lioness to take care of. Kind of like in The Jungle Book. Then one of the faeries, who has awesome turquoise hair and I totally want a doll of her, takes an interest in the child. There's weird editing here where it's hard to tell what's in the frame story and what's in the flashback as the Great Ak is talking--singing, actually-- about immortals and how they were always as they are now, so babies are a foreign concept. The faerie takes custody of the baby, over the lioness's protests. She names him Claus.
There's a not-impressive song with a montage of Claus growing up, though he doesn't appear to be an adult, maybe right around pubescent. The Great Ak tells him he needs to go into the world, because he's a man now. Claus doesn't know what a man is. His faerie mom also teaches him the word "mother", and it's a sweet, if awkward, moment. Also, when this was recorded, it was 47 degrees.
Claus is soaring with the Great Ak to see what's up with the world. They're invisible to all the other mortals. Claus watches some orphans being abused while picking turnips, and then the rich guy bitching about the tur'nip thief and another scamp who wants to le'\arn to read. The horror! Claus is like, WTF? I don't like this world, let's go home." He tells the Great Ak he doesn't want to be mortal, and the Great Ak is like, "um, tough shit." Next up on the tour: some kids training to be samurai, then some homeless orphans begging in the street. Finally, some men at war, fighting amongst themselves for what are known as "causes." Needless to say, Claus is not thrilled with what he's learned about manhood today. But, instead of going back to the woods and hiding under a rock for the rest of his life, as I would be tempted to do, he sets off back into the world, in hopes of making a difference. Tingler accompanies him, as does the lioness. Another montage of Claus aging into a middle-aged man. He appears to be living in cabin, still with Tingler and the lioness, now with the addition of a little black cat named Blinky. One night, a little orphan boy collapses in the snow right outside, so they bring him in to warm up. While he's asleep, Claus carves him a wooden cat that resembles Blinky. Apparently this is the world's first toy. The other orphans are so smitten by the wooden kitty that they sing what seems like a reeeeaaaaaallllllly long song about it, mainly because they keep repeating the same words over and over: "We wanna wake up to a big surprise, a little wooden cat with yellow green eyes..." Which of course leads me to wonder, what if that was the only toy Santa ever learned to make? What if we all got wooden cats for Christmas, every year?
Fortunately, that doesn't happen, and in the next scene, Claus and Tingler and several faerie helpers are hard at work making different toys, when they get a threat thrown through the window from the Agwas. Agwas are sort of vaguely defined scary beings. They make children misbehave. Kind of like the Bad Idea Bears. And they don't want children to have toys. So they keep stealing the toys. But Claus is going to keep making them.
The Great Ak has a confrontation with the Agwas, and they're like, "Whatever, we don't care what you say," so Great Ak goes and gets his axe. And the King of the Agwas is like, "Go forth, Great Dragon, and INCINERATE THEM." Except that's actually what he says, and there really is a dragon. All of this over not wanting children to have toys! Of course, the dragon can't really incinerate the immortals, because, immortal. Yeah. The Agwas are defeated.
So Claus has loaded a bunch of toys onto a sled, but it's too heavy for him to pull. Any guesses as to what the solution might be? Anyone? Yep, REINDEER. It's not explained how they can fly. They get to a house, and it's locked, so what's Claus to do? Yep, chimney. And when he sees stockings hung by the fireplace to dry, why not use that as a place to put surprises? Why not indeed. So simple, so logical. The family knows just where the toys came from, because Claus, now earning the reputation of "Saint," is the only person in the world who can make toys.
The immortal who's in charge of the reindeer agrees that Claus can use them one night a year. And the only reason he has enough toys when the next Christmas (where they came up with that word isn't really discussed-- this special probably pisses Conservatives off) comes around is because they are magically able to recover the toys the Agwas stole.
Back to the frame, where the immortals unanimously decide that Santa is worthy of the mantle of immortality. They bestow it upon him, which looks exactly like placing a glowing blanket over him while he sleeps. But then we see Santa thank the Great Ak
and declare, In all this world there is nothing so beautiful as a happy child.
Visuals: 4 out of 5
Spirit: 3 out of 5
Nostalgia: 2 out of 5
Humor: 1 out of 5
Music: 2 out of 5
Overall: 3 out of 5
Tingler, a sound nymph, is talking to the Great Ak. Both of them are impressive figures-- they don't look animated at all; they just look like dolls. Which I guess is what they are. Another lady arrives on the scene, and we're told that what's happening, basically, is that the immortals are gathering because tonight will be Santa's last sleigh ride. In other words, Santa's about to kick the bucket. The Great Ak is pitching the idea that Santa be granted immortality. Ladies and gentlemen, your frame story.
So, we flashback to Santa's origins: the Great Ak found a baby in the woods and took it to a lioness to take care of. Kind of like in The Jungle Book. Then one of the faeries, who has awesome turquoise hair and I totally want a doll of her, takes an interest in the child. There's weird editing here where it's hard to tell what's in the frame story and what's in the flashback as the Great Ak is talking--singing, actually-- about immortals and how they were always as they are now, so babies are a foreign concept. The faerie takes custody of the baby, over the lioness's protests. She names him Claus.
There's a not-impressive song with a montage of Claus growing up, though he doesn't appear to be an adult, maybe right around pubescent. The Great Ak tells him he needs to go into the world, because he's a man now. Claus doesn't know what a man is. His faerie mom also teaches him the word "mother", and it's a sweet, if awkward, moment. Also, when this was recorded, it was 47 degrees.
Claus is soaring with the Great Ak to see what's up with the world. They're invisible to all the other mortals. Claus watches some orphans being abused while picking turnips, and then the rich guy bitching about the tur'nip thief and another scamp who wants to le'\arn to read. The horror! Claus is like, WTF? I don't like this world, let's go home." He tells the Great Ak he doesn't want to be mortal, and the Great Ak is like, "um, tough shit." Next up on the tour: some kids training to be samurai, then some homeless orphans begging in the street. Finally, some men at war, fighting amongst themselves for what are known as "causes." Needless to say, Claus is not thrilled with what he's learned about manhood today. But, instead of going back to the woods and hiding under a rock for the rest of his life, as I would be tempted to do, he sets off back into the world, in hopes of making a difference. Tingler accompanies him, as does the lioness. Another montage of Claus aging into a middle-aged man. He appears to be living in cabin, still with Tingler and the lioness, now with the addition of a little black cat named Blinky. One night, a little orphan boy collapses in the snow right outside, so they bring him in to warm up. While he's asleep, Claus carves him a wooden cat that resembles Blinky. Apparently this is the world's first toy. The other orphans are so smitten by the wooden kitty that they sing what seems like a reeeeaaaaaallllllly long song about it, mainly because they keep repeating the same words over and over: "We wanna wake up to a big surprise, a little wooden cat with yellow green eyes..." Which of course leads me to wonder, what if that was the only toy Santa ever learned to make? What if we all got wooden cats for Christmas, every year?
Fortunately, that doesn't happen, and in the next scene, Claus and Tingler and several faerie helpers are hard at work making different toys, when they get a threat thrown through the window from the Agwas. Agwas are sort of vaguely defined scary beings. They make children misbehave. Kind of like the Bad Idea Bears. And they don't want children to have toys. So they keep stealing the toys. But Claus is going to keep making them.
The Great Ak has a confrontation with the Agwas, and they're like, "Whatever, we don't care what you say," so Great Ak goes and gets his axe. And the King of the Agwas is like, "Go forth, Great Dragon, and INCINERATE THEM." Except that's actually what he says, and there really is a dragon. All of this over not wanting children to have toys! Of course, the dragon can't really incinerate the immortals, because, immortal. Yeah. The Agwas are defeated.
So Claus has loaded a bunch of toys onto a sled, but it's too heavy for him to pull. Any guesses as to what the solution might be? Anyone? Yep, REINDEER. It's not explained how they can fly. They get to a house, and it's locked, so what's Claus to do? Yep, chimney. And when he sees stockings hung by the fireplace to dry, why not use that as a place to put surprises? Why not indeed. So simple, so logical. The family knows just where the toys came from, because Claus, now earning the reputation of "Saint," is the only person in the world who can make toys.
The immortal who's in charge of the reindeer agrees that Claus can use them one night a year. And the only reason he has enough toys when the next Christmas (where they came up with that word isn't really discussed-- this special probably pisses Conservatives off) comes around is because they are magically able to recover the toys the Agwas stole.
Back to the frame, where the immortals unanimously decide that Santa is worthy of the mantle of immortality. They bestow it upon him, which looks exactly like placing a glowing blanket over him while he sleeps. But then we see Santa thank the Great Ak
and declare, In all this world there is nothing so beautiful as a happy child.
Visuals: 4 out of 5
Spirit: 3 out of 5
Nostalgia: 2 out of 5
Humor: 1 out of 5
Music: 2 out of 5
Overall: 3 out of 5
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Twelve Blogs of Christmas #6: A Chipmunk Christmas
From 1981, this is an early incarnation of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Not only are they not cgi, they are much more crudely drawn than the cartoons I remember watching. Wikipedia informs me that there was an animated series prior to this, which ran from 1961 to 1962. The series I remember came after this special, and had a much longer run, from 1983 to 1990.
The special begins with a doctor visiting a sick boy's home. The boy has pictures of Alvin and the Chipmunks taped above his bed. Then we cut to the chipmunk home, where the chipmunks wake Dave up singing "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas." Somehow this rude awakening results in Dave having shoes on his hands, a belt around his chest, and a pillow on his head with a hat on top of the pillow. I'm not even going to try to figure that one out.
Dave and the chipmunks are on their way to a recording session, and Alvin is very grumpy about having to work over Christmas vacation. Do the chipmunks go to school? I guess they do. Alvin's spirits brighten when Dave tells him he can play his harmonica. For some reason, while window shopping, Alvin wants to show his harmonica its "twin brother" in the display window. As he does this, he overhears the mother and sister of the sick boy we saw at the beginning. Apparently, Tommy (that's his name) wants this harmonica more than anything, and the sister doesn't understand why they can't get it for him. The mother is trying to explain they have to save everything they can to see that Tommy makes it through Christmas, and the sister has no idea what that means. "Make WHAT through Christmas?" Pretty naive, even for a child.
At the recording session, Alvin is sad. He takes off and literally FLIES down the road, his legs going like a propeller. I didn't know chipmunks could do that. Somehow he knows where Tommy lives, so he rushes in to give Tommy his harmonica, making up a story that Tommy won it in a drawing.
Alvin tells his brothers that he gave the harmonica away, but does not tell Dave. This becomes a problem when Dave books the chipmunks for a Christmas Eve performance at Carnegie Hall, which is to include a harmonica solo. Rather than come clean, Alvin dresses up as Santa Claus and rounds up some dogs to play the reindeer so that he can charge kids to have their picture taken. For some reason, this involves Theodore lowering Alvin onto Santa's chair with a pulley. Dave is angry when he discovers this, but seems to get over it quickly, as in the next scene he's reciting a poem in front of the fireplace, and waxing poetic about giving. But Alvin STILL doesn't tell Dave that he did give something important, he just worries about getting the money to replace the harmonica. Understandably, Dave thinks Alvin is being selfish and sends him to his room.
ETA: This just in! Omitted scene alert! After I posted this blog to facebook, my brother commented, "How did you skip over the crazy dream sequence with the mad professor and Lincoln Claus? That's the part that's stuck with me the most." To which I could only say, holy crap. I had a vague feeling that something was missing, but I wasn't sure what. That'll teach me to watch on ABC Family instead of locating my bootleg copies. So, tonight, I found the bootleg dvd-- which may have involved an argument with my husband about where it was and how dare he mess with something so sacred as my bootleg Christmas specials, because when all you want to do is watch cartoons about love and kindness and being with your loved ones, God help the loved one who should put any sort of obstacle in the way of that. But, it turned out that the dvds in question were in a perfectly safe place, so all is well.
Anyway, after Alvin gets sent to his room, he has a dream about walking along a path alongside a star and moon with faces, which makes me think of Care-a-Lot. Instead of Carebear territory, Alvin walks into Crashcup inc, mistaking it for a loan department, and talking to a long-nosed professor in a white coat who is working on inventing the spirit of Christmas. His incarnation of it so far features Abraham Lincoln dressed like Santa Claus, sitting in a pumpkin being pulled by a pink elephant with antlers. In other words, this is when the writers of Alvin and the Chipmunks took a smoke break. No wonder ABC Family deemed it family-unfriendly. The dream sequence is over quicker than I expected, and then we're back to where we left off. This concludes your Omitted Scene Alert.
The truth finally comes out when Tommy's mother calls Dave to say that the harmonica is doing wonders for Tommy. How did she have his phone number? Alvin misses this phone call, as he's busy staring at the harmonica in the store window. Then a little old lady appears out of nowhere and buys it for him for absolutely no reason. I'm guessing-- this is vaguely implied-- that she's a very lonely lady with no family, and she just wants to give something to a child so that she can pretend for a moment that she has grandchildren. Although a harmonica seems like an odd choice in that situation. Maybe she saw him staring at it. He plays "Silent Night" for her and a gathering crowd, and by the time Dave, Simon, and Theodore show up, there's no sign of the lady.
Tommy is off his sickbed for the show at Carnegie Hall, and plays the harmonica solo. So Alvin didn't really need the deus ex machina harmonica at all, did he?
Randomly, the special ends with Santa. He listens to the chipmunks singing as he flies over the city, then lands back at home. Mrs. Claus has her back to the viewer as she asks how it went. He says it went fine, and then suggests that she come out with him some Christmas. She says "Making children happy is your job; I guess I'm just an old homebody." She then winks at the viewer as we see that Mrs. Claus is, in fact, the old lady who bought Alvin the harmonica. Huh. I had completely forgotten that part.
Bit of a convoluted story for half an hour, but it's sweet.
Visuals: 3 out of 5
Spirit: 4 out of 5
Nostalgia: 3 out of 5
Humor: 2 out of 5
Music: 3 out of 5
Overall: 3 out of 5
The special begins with a doctor visiting a sick boy's home. The boy has pictures of Alvin and the Chipmunks taped above his bed. Then we cut to the chipmunk home, where the chipmunks wake Dave up singing "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas." Somehow this rude awakening results in Dave having shoes on his hands, a belt around his chest, and a pillow on his head with a hat on top of the pillow. I'm not even going to try to figure that one out.
Dave and the chipmunks are on their way to a recording session, and Alvin is very grumpy about having to work over Christmas vacation. Do the chipmunks go to school? I guess they do. Alvin's spirits brighten when Dave tells him he can play his harmonica. For some reason, while window shopping, Alvin wants to show his harmonica its "twin brother" in the display window. As he does this, he overhears the mother and sister of the sick boy we saw at the beginning. Apparently, Tommy (that's his name) wants this harmonica more than anything, and the sister doesn't understand why they can't get it for him. The mother is trying to explain they have to save everything they can to see that Tommy makes it through Christmas, and the sister has no idea what that means. "Make WHAT through Christmas?" Pretty naive, even for a child.
At the recording session, Alvin is sad. He takes off and literally FLIES down the road, his legs going like a propeller. I didn't know chipmunks could do that. Somehow he knows where Tommy lives, so he rushes in to give Tommy his harmonica, making up a story that Tommy won it in a drawing.
Alvin tells his brothers that he gave the harmonica away, but does not tell Dave. This becomes a problem when Dave books the chipmunks for a Christmas Eve performance at Carnegie Hall, which is to include a harmonica solo. Rather than come clean, Alvin dresses up as Santa Claus and rounds up some dogs to play the reindeer so that he can charge kids to have their picture taken. For some reason, this involves Theodore lowering Alvin onto Santa's chair with a pulley. Dave is angry when he discovers this, but seems to get over it quickly, as in the next scene he's reciting a poem in front of the fireplace, and waxing poetic about giving. But Alvin STILL doesn't tell Dave that he did give something important, he just worries about getting the money to replace the harmonica. Understandably, Dave thinks Alvin is being selfish and sends him to his room.
ETA: This just in! Omitted scene alert! After I posted this blog to facebook, my brother commented, "How did you skip over the crazy dream sequence with the mad professor and Lincoln Claus? That's the part that's stuck with me the most." To which I could only say, holy crap. I had a vague feeling that something was missing, but I wasn't sure what. That'll teach me to watch on ABC Family instead of locating my bootleg copies. So, tonight, I found the bootleg dvd-- which may have involved an argument with my husband about where it was and how dare he mess with something so sacred as my bootleg Christmas specials, because when all you want to do is watch cartoons about love and kindness and being with your loved ones, God help the loved one who should put any sort of obstacle in the way of that. But, it turned out that the dvds in question were in a perfectly safe place, so all is well.
Anyway, after Alvin gets sent to his room, he has a dream about walking along a path alongside a star and moon with faces, which makes me think of Care-a-Lot. Instead of Carebear territory, Alvin walks into Crashcup inc, mistaking it for a loan department, and talking to a long-nosed professor in a white coat who is working on inventing the spirit of Christmas. His incarnation of it so far features Abraham Lincoln dressed like Santa Claus, sitting in a pumpkin being pulled by a pink elephant with antlers. In other words, this is when the writers of Alvin and the Chipmunks took a smoke break. No wonder ABC Family deemed it family-unfriendly. The dream sequence is over quicker than I expected, and then we're back to where we left off. This concludes your Omitted Scene Alert.
The truth finally comes out when Tommy's mother calls Dave to say that the harmonica is doing wonders for Tommy. How did she have his phone number? Alvin misses this phone call, as he's busy staring at the harmonica in the store window. Then a little old lady appears out of nowhere and buys it for him for absolutely no reason. I'm guessing-- this is vaguely implied-- that she's a very lonely lady with no family, and she just wants to give something to a child so that she can pretend for a moment that she has grandchildren. Although a harmonica seems like an odd choice in that situation. Maybe she saw him staring at it. He plays "Silent Night" for her and a gathering crowd, and by the time Dave, Simon, and Theodore show up, there's no sign of the lady.
Tommy is off his sickbed for the show at Carnegie Hall, and plays the harmonica solo. So Alvin didn't really need the deus ex machina harmonica at all, did he?
Randomly, the special ends with Santa. He listens to the chipmunks singing as he flies over the city, then lands back at home. Mrs. Claus has her back to the viewer as she asks how it went. He says it went fine, and then suggests that she come out with him some Christmas. She says "Making children happy is your job; I guess I'm just an old homebody." She then winks at the viewer as we see that Mrs. Claus is, in fact, the old lady who bought Alvin the harmonica. Huh. I had completely forgotten that part.
Bit of a convoluted story for half an hour, but it's sweet.
Visuals: 3 out of 5
Spirit: 4 out of 5
Nostalgia: 3 out of 5
Humor: 2 out of 5
Music: 3 out of 5
Overall: 3 out of 5
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Twelve Blogs of Christmas #5: Ziggy's Gift
Today I am watching an Emmy-winning special that premiered in 1982, the same year I was born. I remember watching it when I was little, but all I remember are images. Want to watch too? Here you go:
I'm immediately struck by the animation. Yeah, it's simple line-drawn 2D animation, but it has a very serene stillness and the motions are very fluid-- it's perfect for a Christmas special.
Ziggy, that long-enduring bald everyman that everyone knows from the comics but no one seems to have particularly strong feelings about, does not talk at all during the special. He is wearing a short robe and slippers as he brushes his teeth, collects his newspaper, and watches the news on TV, where he learns that a bunch of charity collectors have been pocketing the money. At the same time, Ziggy sees an ad in the newspaper asking for honest charity collectors. Spurred to action, Ziggy runs to his dresser and gets dressed, breaking his mirror in the process. Oh, Ziggy, will you ever win?
Ziggy's dog Fuzz ties Ziggy's scarf around Ziggy's neck (without using his paws like hands, just by taking the scarf in his teeth and running around Ziggy). Ziggy smiles and ties the other end of the scarf around Fuzz's neck so that it doubles as a leash. Cute.
They walk down the street, pulling a sled for some reason, and something random happens leading them to have to rescue a tree from the middle of the road. Then a police officer lectures Ziggy for leaving his sled in the middle of the sidewalk. Whatever. The cop hits himself in the head with his own billy club as he's waving it about, and then doesn't notice as a creepy hand reaches out of a nearby trash can and swipes his wallet. Yikes! After Ziggy and Fuzz walk away, we see the yellow-eyed stringy-haired owner of that hand, and it's not a pretty sight. Oscar the Grouch would be ashamed that the reputation of trash can dwellers has been sullied.
The guy at the "Santas Wanted" place is overly enthusiastic about an applicant showing up. As the door closes, the "Santas Wanted" sign falls off the door to reveal its label: "Fly by Nite Loan Co." The cop sees this and says "hmm." Something is not on the up and up here. Ziggy misses several indicators of this: 1) the guy doesn't even read his application 2) there are no other applicants and 3) the sofa in the guy's office is in very poor condition. On TV, particularly cartoons, beat up sofas are always a sign of trouble. Even Fuzz is growling at the guy. Come on, Ziggy, open your eyes.
Ziggy gives some money to street musicians, and the yellow-eyed creep watches from inside a fire hydrant. Then-- oh, I remember this part!-- Ziggy walks by a display window with angel mannequins whose necks go up and down. They sing "Joy to the World", but skip like a bad recording. A spring pops out of one of them. The next display window advertises plastic poinsettias, aluminum trees, vinyl holly wreaths, and polyester pine cones, all surrounding a ginormous wind-up Santa that sputters and dies right in front of Ziggy. Nightmare fuel! Of course, this is the part my pre-school-aged brain retained. The music changes as Ziggy stops beside a mailbox. I bet we're about to see the yellow-eyed-creep again! Yup, there he is, just as Ziggy pulls out his bell. He steals a wrapped gift, seemingly out of nowhere, then a passerby puts another wrapped gift into the mailbox (with no address?), which causes a scuffle that knocks the mailbox over. While Ziggy is distracted by that, a drunk-looking Santa steals his spot. Ziggy shrugs and walks away, and the yellow-eyed creep steals the drunk Santa's outfit right off of his back. WTF?
Yellow-eyed creep now has everything he needs to set up his own bell-ringing station right beside Ziggy. Ziggy is a kind and gentle soul, so he's just like "whatever" and keeps ringing his bell. Fuzz, on the other hand, digs his teeth into yellow-eyed creep's leg and does not let go until yellow-eyed creep vacates the corner. Wow. Fuzz presents a scrap of yellow-eyed creep's pants to Ziggy as a trophy. Ziggy puts in his pocket, for some reason.
Presumably sometime later, they are walking down the street again, still pulling the sled with the tree on it. They pass a stray cat, and Ziggy ties the scrap of pants around its head like a kerchief and pats it on the head. Aww. The cat, of course, hops atop the sled. Ziggy then goes by the meat market for some reason, where a bunch of "live Xmas turkeys" are on display and looking very distressed. I don't remember this part, but it might have contributed to my vegetarianism. Somehow, without speaking, Ziggy indicates that he would like to buy ALL the turkeys.
I thought we had lost yellow-eyed creep, but he's still trailing Ziggy. he makes a grab for the kettle of money, but it appears empty. However, when Ziggy reaches into it for $175 to pay for all the turkeys, the money is there. Ziggy sets the turkeys free and shakes the butcher's hand. I've always been indifferent to Ziggy as a comic strip, but this special is kind of making me love him.
The cop from earlier shows up to question the butcher about the turkeys on the loose, and is interested to hear about the short Santa who paid with cash out of an iron kettle. Yeah, that doesn't look good. Technically, that's still embezzling the charity money, Zig.
Ziggy's next act of kindness is to give his Santa suit to a homeless man who is freezing on the sidewalk. I might have something in my eye.
The cop has filled his paddywagon with "every single crooked Santa in town," including the suited guy who gave Ziggy the job. The chief of police reminds him to get "the little guy." Commotion with the yellow-eyed creep leads the cop right to Ziggy. But when they notice some children watching from a window, they cover by singing "Silent Night." Angle shift reveals that they are standing in front of a foster home (a group home, I guess), and the house mother invites them in. So, Ziggy, the cop, the yellow-eyed creep, Fuzz, and the cat all join the foster kids for some cocoa. Ziggy brings in the tree that he rescued earlier. They decorate it with yarn, and the cop puts his star badge on top. It mysteriously lights up. The mysterious gold light has showed up a few times, maybe suggesting angelic presence. I'm not sure.
Since the yellow-eyed creep is in the Santa suit, the kids assume he's Santa. Cornered by their innocence, he begins giving the kids the things he's been pilfering. The gold light flashes just as he pulls out some toys, suggesting that maybe he didn't know they were in there. At Ziggy's prompting, he also returns the cop's wallet. The cop apologizes for all that "confusion" earlier. So I guess even yellow-eyed creep has been redeemed. Guess that was the point.
We fade out with a Harry Nilsson song about giving, as Ziggy waves good-bye and leaves the foster home with Fuzz and his now-empty sled. Looks like they left the cat with the foster kids.
That? Was pretty awesome.
Visuals: 5 out of 5
Spirit: 5 out of 5
Nostalgia: 3 out of 5
Humor: 2 out of 5
Music: 3 out of 5
Overall: 4 out of 5
I'm immediately struck by the animation. Yeah, it's simple line-drawn 2D animation, but it has a very serene stillness and the motions are very fluid-- it's perfect for a Christmas special.
Ziggy, that long-enduring bald everyman that everyone knows from the comics but no one seems to have particularly strong feelings about, does not talk at all during the special. He is wearing a short robe and slippers as he brushes his teeth, collects his newspaper, and watches the news on TV, where he learns that a bunch of charity collectors have been pocketing the money. At the same time, Ziggy sees an ad in the newspaper asking for honest charity collectors. Spurred to action, Ziggy runs to his dresser and gets dressed, breaking his mirror in the process. Oh, Ziggy, will you ever win?
Ziggy's dog Fuzz ties Ziggy's scarf around Ziggy's neck (without using his paws like hands, just by taking the scarf in his teeth and running around Ziggy). Ziggy smiles and ties the other end of the scarf around Fuzz's neck so that it doubles as a leash. Cute.
They walk down the street, pulling a sled for some reason, and something random happens leading them to have to rescue a tree from the middle of the road. Then a police officer lectures Ziggy for leaving his sled in the middle of the sidewalk. Whatever. The cop hits himself in the head with his own billy club as he's waving it about, and then doesn't notice as a creepy hand reaches out of a nearby trash can and swipes his wallet. Yikes! After Ziggy and Fuzz walk away, we see the yellow-eyed stringy-haired owner of that hand, and it's not a pretty sight. Oscar the Grouch would be ashamed that the reputation of trash can dwellers has been sullied.
The guy at the "Santas Wanted" place is overly enthusiastic about an applicant showing up. As the door closes, the "Santas Wanted" sign falls off the door to reveal its label: "Fly by Nite Loan Co." The cop sees this and says "hmm." Something is not on the up and up here. Ziggy misses several indicators of this: 1) the guy doesn't even read his application 2) there are no other applicants and 3) the sofa in the guy's office is in very poor condition. On TV, particularly cartoons, beat up sofas are always a sign of trouble. Even Fuzz is growling at the guy. Come on, Ziggy, open your eyes.
Ziggy gives some money to street musicians, and the yellow-eyed creep watches from inside a fire hydrant. Then-- oh, I remember this part!-- Ziggy walks by a display window with angel mannequins whose necks go up and down. They sing "Joy to the World", but skip like a bad recording. A spring pops out of one of them. The next display window advertises plastic poinsettias, aluminum trees, vinyl holly wreaths, and polyester pine cones, all surrounding a ginormous wind-up Santa that sputters and dies right in front of Ziggy. Nightmare fuel! Of course, this is the part my pre-school-aged brain retained. The music changes as Ziggy stops beside a mailbox. I bet we're about to see the yellow-eyed-creep again! Yup, there he is, just as Ziggy pulls out his bell. He steals a wrapped gift, seemingly out of nowhere, then a passerby puts another wrapped gift into the mailbox (with no address?), which causes a scuffle that knocks the mailbox over. While Ziggy is distracted by that, a drunk-looking Santa steals his spot. Ziggy shrugs and walks away, and the yellow-eyed creep steals the drunk Santa's outfit right off of his back. WTF?
Yellow-eyed creep now has everything he needs to set up his own bell-ringing station right beside Ziggy. Ziggy is a kind and gentle soul, so he's just like "whatever" and keeps ringing his bell. Fuzz, on the other hand, digs his teeth into yellow-eyed creep's leg and does not let go until yellow-eyed creep vacates the corner. Wow. Fuzz presents a scrap of yellow-eyed creep's pants to Ziggy as a trophy. Ziggy puts in his pocket, for some reason.
Presumably sometime later, they are walking down the street again, still pulling the sled with the tree on it. They pass a stray cat, and Ziggy ties the scrap of pants around its head like a kerchief and pats it on the head. Aww. The cat, of course, hops atop the sled. Ziggy then goes by the meat market for some reason, where a bunch of "live Xmas turkeys" are on display and looking very distressed. I don't remember this part, but it might have contributed to my vegetarianism. Somehow, without speaking, Ziggy indicates that he would like to buy ALL the turkeys.
I thought we had lost yellow-eyed creep, but he's still trailing Ziggy. he makes a grab for the kettle of money, but it appears empty. However, when Ziggy reaches into it for $175 to pay for all the turkeys, the money is there. Ziggy sets the turkeys free and shakes the butcher's hand. I've always been indifferent to Ziggy as a comic strip, but this special is kind of making me love him.
The cop from earlier shows up to question the butcher about the turkeys on the loose, and is interested to hear about the short Santa who paid with cash out of an iron kettle. Yeah, that doesn't look good. Technically, that's still embezzling the charity money, Zig.
Ziggy's next act of kindness is to give his Santa suit to a homeless man who is freezing on the sidewalk. I might have something in my eye.
The cop has filled his paddywagon with "every single crooked Santa in town," including the suited guy who gave Ziggy the job. The chief of police reminds him to get "the little guy." Commotion with the yellow-eyed creep leads the cop right to Ziggy. But when they notice some children watching from a window, they cover by singing "Silent Night." Angle shift reveals that they are standing in front of a foster home (a group home, I guess), and the house mother invites them in. So, Ziggy, the cop, the yellow-eyed creep, Fuzz, and the cat all join the foster kids for some cocoa. Ziggy brings in the tree that he rescued earlier. They decorate it with yarn, and the cop puts his star badge on top. It mysteriously lights up. The mysterious gold light has showed up a few times, maybe suggesting angelic presence. I'm not sure.
Since the yellow-eyed creep is in the Santa suit, the kids assume he's Santa. Cornered by their innocence, he begins giving the kids the things he's been pilfering. The gold light flashes just as he pulls out some toys, suggesting that maybe he didn't know they were in there. At Ziggy's prompting, he also returns the cop's wallet. The cop apologizes for all that "confusion" earlier. So I guess even yellow-eyed creep has been redeemed. Guess that was the point.
We fade out with a Harry Nilsson song about giving, as Ziggy waves good-bye and leaves the foster home with Fuzz and his now-empty sled. Looks like they left the cat with the foster kids.
That? Was pretty awesome.
Visuals: 5 out of 5
Spirit: 5 out of 5
Nostalgia: 3 out of 5
Humor: 2 out of 5
Music: 3 out of 5
Overall: 4 out of 5
Friday, December 16, 2011
Twelve Blogs of Christmas #4: Boy Meets World "A Very Topanga Christmas"
I'll get to something longer and with more substance tomorrow, but right now I'm in the mood for a simple sitcom episode. Boy Meets World it is-- a sitcom best described as sweet but mildly surreal.
Topanga's spending Christmas with Cory's family for the first time. Cory has a promise ring to give to her, because they're going to be together forever. And the way this show always presented their eternal love as a fact is the only thing that most bothers me about this show. It could have been a chaotic, confusing, Kevin-and-Winnie kind of deal-- more people would have related to that. But instead it was a predestined "we've been in love since we were two!" kind of a thing, which leads to a whole separate problem with continuity, since in season one Cory could barely stand the sight of Topanga. And at that point she was an outspoken hippie whose dad was played by Peter Tork, but sadly all of that went away. I think she had four or five dads over the years. And she had a sister at one point, named Nebula Stopthewar Lawrence, but then she vanished off the face of the Earth.
ANYWAY. The theme of this episode is that when families mesh, traditions don't always.
Matthews family traditions:
eggnog
aluminum tree
opening gifts on Christmas morning
cardboard noodle star on top of the tree
Topanga traditions:
hot mulled cider
real tree carefully selected from a tree farm
opening gifts on Christmas Eve
angel on top of the tree
I prefer cider to eggnog, but I don't think I've ever had cider on Christmas. I am indifferent about what kind of tree-- my family uses a fake tree, but a green one. Gifts can be opened whenever, why not compromise and spread them out? But one thing I am weird about-- I much prefer having a star on top of the tree. Couldn't tell you why, really, it just makes more sense to me, visually and symbolically.
HOWEVER, if I were spending Christmas with someone else's family (something I have never done, and I'll be thirty in May), I would anticipate that their traditions and preferences would differ from my own. I would either grin and bear it, or find a way to blend the traditions, such as spreading present opening out, or having cider AND eggnog. Topanga, on the other hand, expects the Matthews family to adapt HER traditions, and love them. Maybe this is why it's hazardous to get into serious relationships so young.
Another Matthews family tradition is that Mr. Feeny comes over and reads A Christmas Carol to the family. To the show's credit, they acknowledge that this particular tradition is a bit odd. It's a short novel, but I think it would still take a while to read out loud in one sitting. Topanga's suggestion to alter this tradition is that they act out the parts, and Mr. Feeny is freaked out, for some reason. I guess he likes to hear himself read.
In the middle of the night, Topanga is freaking out about their traditions not meshing. But by morning, she is happy and making pancakes shaped like Christmas trees. Now it's Cory's turn to be the snot and reject her pancakes because they don't fit with his vision of the day, or something, and he likes his family's traditions the way they are. Oh, and she squeezed grapefruit juice into his orange juice, and what kind of person does that, oh no, the world is ending...He snots all the way to his best friend Shawn's apartment, where Shawn is spending his first Christmas with his half brother. Shawn compares Cory and Topanga to the grapefruit juice and orange juice: "You shouldn't be together. And yet somehow you are." That... doesn't sound very encouraging.
Topanga stops by to apologize, even though Cory was the one who ran off in a snit. Cory proceeds to fall asleep watching A Christmas Carol on TV, and then have a rather contrived dream that Feeny shows up and shows Cory his future in which Cory is... fat. Because all he eats, for every meal, is pancakes shaped like Christmas trees. Then Cory goes to see Topanga in the future, and she's married to Shawn's half brother. They have three children and *gasp* an aluminum tree! Because love brings compromise, and when people are in love, they create their own traditions. Um... duh. Again, this is why they're too immature for the intensity of this relationship.
Needless to say, Cory goes running back to Topanga and gives her the promise ring. She doesn't point out to him that he was the one who ran away in a snit. She just gives him a promise ring of his own.
For the tag scene, everyone gathers around to listen to Mr. Feeny read A Christmas Carol after all, because that is SERIOUS BUSINESS.
Visuals: 1 out of 5
Spirit: 3 out of 5
Nostalgia: 3 out of 5
Humor: 2 out of 5
Music: 0 out of 5
Overall: 2.5 out of 5
Topanga's spending Christmas with Cory's family for the first time. Cory has a promise ring to give to her, because they're going to be together forever. And the way this show always presented their eternal love as a fact is the only thing that most bothers me about this show. It could have been a chaotic, confusing, Kevin-and-Winnie kind of deal-- more people would have related to that. But instead it was a predestined "we've been in love since we were two!" kind of a thing, which leads to a whole separate problem with continuity, since in season one Cory could barely stand the sight of Topanga. And at that point she was an outspoken hippie whose dad was played by Peter Tork, but sadly all of that went away. I think she had four or five dads over the years. And she had a sister at one point, named Nebula Stopthewar Lawrence, but then she vanished off the face of the Earth.
ANYWAY. The theme of this episode is that when families mesh, traditions don't always.
Matthews family traditions:
eggnog
aluminum tree
opening gifts on Christmas morning
cardboard noodle star on top of the tree
Topanga traditions:
hot mulled cider
real tree carefully selected from a tree farm
opening gifts on Christmas Eve
angel on top of the tree
I prefer cider to eggnog, but I don't think I've ever had cider on Christmas. I am indifferent about what kind of tree-- my family uses a fake tree, but a green one. Gifts can be opened whenever, why not compromise and spread them out? But one thing I am weird about-- I much prefer having a star on top of the tree. Couldn't tell you why, really, it just makes more sense to me, visually and symbolically.
HOWEVER, if I were spending Christmas with someone else's family (something I have never done, and I'll be thirty in May), I would anticipate that their traditions and preferences would differ from my own. I would either grin and bear it, or find a way to blend the traditions, such as spreading present opening out, or having cider AND eggnog. Topanga, on the other hand, expects the Matthews family to adapt HER traditions, and love them. Maybe this is why it's hazardous to get into serious relationships so young.
Another Matthews family tradition is that Mr. Feeny comes over and reads A Christmas Carol to the family. To the show's credit, they acknowledge that this particular tradition is a bit odd. It's a short novel, but I think it would still take a while to read out loud in one sitting. Topanga's suggestion to alter this tradition is that they act out the parts, and Mr. Feeny is freaked out, for some reason. I guess he likes to hear himself read.
In the middle of the night, Topanga is freaking out about their traditions not meshing. But by morning, she is happy and making pancakes shaped like Christmas trees. Now it's Cory's turn to be the snot and reject her pancakes because they don't fit with his vision of the day, or something, and he likes his family's traditions the way they are. Oh, and she squeezed grapefruit juice into his orange juice, and what kind of person does that, oh no, the world is ending...He snots all the way to his best friend Shawn's apartment, where Shawn is spending his first Christmas with his half brother. Shawn compares Cory and Topanga to the grapefruit juice and orange juice: "You shouldn't be together. And yet somehow you are." That... doesn't sound very encouraging.
Topanga stops by to apologize, even though Cory was the one who ran off in a snit. Cory proceeds to fall asleep watching A Christmas Carol on TV, and then have a rather contrived dream that Feeny shows up and shows Cory his future in which Cory is... fat. Because all he eats, for every meal, is pancakes shaped like Christmas trees. Then Cory goes to see Topanga in the future, and she's married to Shawn's half brother. They have three children and *gasp* an aluminum tree! Because love brings compromise, and when people are in love, they create their own traditions. Um... duh. Again, this is why they're too immature for the intensity of this relationship.
Needless to say, Cory goes running back to Topanga and gives her the promise ring. She doesn't point out to him that he was the one who ran away in a snit. She just gives him a promise ring of his own.
For the tag scene, everyone gathers around to listen to Mr. Feeny read A Christmas Carol after all, because that is SERIOUS BUSINESS.
Visuals: 1 out of 5
Spirit: 3 out of 5
Nostalgia: 3 out of 5
Humor: 2 out of 5
Music: 0 out of 5
Overall: 2.5 out of 5
Twelve Blogs of Christmas #3: Prep and Landing
My husband really, really likes this special that premiered last year. I gave him the dvd for his birthday, and that's what he wants to watch, so that's what I am blogging about today.
Here we meet the elite team of elves known as prep and landing. They arrive at the house before Santa to prep the rooftop for the sleigh's safe landing, as well as clear the house of any obstacles, such as unfriendly dogs. They also screen the cookies and milk, which I find quite amusing for some reason.
Our protagonist is Wayne, callsign: Little Drummer Boy. He informs us that he's ready to move on from this position. But, we soon find out from an executive elf who is voiced by Sarah Chalke but looks like Alyson Hannigan that his promotion did not go through. She also mentions that she's Santa's secret Santa this year, which has to be awkward. I wonder who Santa is secret Santa for, because that wouldn't be so secret.
Jaded by the bad news, Wayne slacks off at a house. he raids their fridge and watches Mickey's Christmas Carol on their tv. Then, he gets caught by a child who is stirring.
The Sarah/Alyson elf is overseeing Santa's launch and hoping that nothing goes wrong. But of course, it already has.
The callsign for the reindeer is "eight maids a-milking" which they hate, so they kind of blow it off. So the Sarah/Alyson elf calls "big red" himself and 86's service to the house where the kid is stirring. Or, as they put it, "figgy pudding." When Wayne finds out about this, it simply will not do, so he begs Santa to turn back and not let little Timmy down. Santa is pleased to hear this. Needless to say, they come through for Timmy.
Later, Wayne goes to Santa to apologize. Santa is, of course, not upset with Wayne, but pleased with his spirit. He presents Wayne with a gift of a snow globe that looks into Timmy's house. And he offers Wayne a different promotion, which Wayne turns down, realizing that Prep and Landing is where he belongs. And if you didn't see that coming, well then, you've never seen a Christmas special before. But that's okay, it's still a sweet, happy story that explores an area of Christmas operation which no other story has before. Only real flaw with it is that it's too short.
There's a short on the dvd wherein Betty White voices Mrs. Claus. Mrs. Claus's face is not shown, so now I'm convinced Betty White actually IS Mrs. Claus.
Visuals: 4 out of 5
Spirit: 4 out of 5
Nostalgia: 0 out of 5
Humor: 3 out of 5
Music: 0 out of 5
Overall: 3 out of 5
Here we meet the elite team of elves known as prep and landing. They arrive at the house before Santa to prep the rooftop for the sleigh's safe landing, as well as clear the house of any obstacles, such as unfriendly dogs. They also screen the cookies and milk, which I find quite amusing for some reason.
Our protagonist is Wayne, callsign: Little Drummer Boy. He informs us that he's ready to move on from this position. But, we soon find out from an executive elf who is voiced by Sarah Chalke but looks like Alyson Hannigan that his promotion did not go through. She also mentions that she's Santa's secret Santa this year, which has to be awkward. I wonder who Santa is secret Santa for, because that wouldn't be so secret.
Jaded by the bad news, Wayne slacks off at a house. he raids their fridge and watches Mickey's Christmas Carol on their tv. Then, he gets caught by a child who is stirring.
The Sarah/Alyson elf is overseeing Santa's launch and hoping that nothing goes wrong. But of course, it already has.
The callsign for the reindeer is "eight maids a-milking" which they hate, so they kind of blow it off. So the Sarah/Alyson elf calls "big red" himself and 86's service to the house where the kid is stirring. Or, as they put it, "figgy pudding." When Wayne finds out about this, it simply will not do, so he begs Santa to turn back and not let little Timmy down. Santa is pleased to hear this. Needless to say, they come through for Timmy.
Later, Wayne goes to Santa to apologize. Santa is, of course, not upset with Wayne, but pleased with his spirit. He presents Wayne with a gift of a snow globe that looks into Timmy's house. And he offers Wayne a different promotion, which Wayne turns down, realizing that Prep and Landing is where he belongs. And if you didn't see that coming, well then, you've never seen a Christmas special before. But that's okay, it's still a sweet, happy story that explores an area of Christmas operation which no other story has before. Only real flaw with it is that it's too short.
There's a short on the dvd wherein Betty White voices Mrs. Claus. Mrs. Claus's face is not shown, so now I'm convinced Betty White actually IS Mrs. Claus.
Visuals: 4 out of 5
Spirit: 4 out of 5
Nostalgia: 0 out of 5
Humor: 3 out of 5
Music: 0 out of 5
Overall: 3 out of 5
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Twelve Blogs of Christmas #2: Kung Fu Panda Holiday Special
Right after the previous post, I got hit with a 24-hour bug that was passed from my niece to my husband to me. And while I've passed hour 24, I still don't feel like getting off the couch. But I finally feel up to where I can blog again, as long as it's something only 30 minutes long.
Pretty much everything involving Kung Fu Panda has been a pleasant surprise. This special is much better than the other DreamWorks Christmas specials, although it wouldn't make a bit of sense to anyone who hadn't seen the movie.
We begin with Po having a dream involving noodles, his father, and the villain from the movie. Typical anxiety, world-colliding dream stuff.
Po and his dad (who is still a bird, btw) are getting ready for "Winter Feast," for which they host a big meal/party at the noodle shop every year. Then Shifu turns up to inform Po that as Dragon Warrior, it is his job and honor to host the Winter Feast at the Jade Palace, attended by all the greatest Kung Fu masters. The Furious Five are stunned to hear this, as the Winter Feast at the Palace is a formal affair. Po maintains he can pull off sophisticated, but is disappointed to learn he can't bring his dad. I agree with him, if he's the host, why can't he invite one measly guest of his own?
When all the chefs come to audition for the privilege to cater the feast (and receive the honor of some sort of bejewelled ladle thing), Po decides to hate all of their food and then choose his dad. Po's dad, however, isn't down with this plan. He wants to host his own Winter Feast as planned because the rest of the village depends on him. Which is kind of sweet, actually.
Back at the palace, Po has no chef. Because preparations for a formal, sophisticated event must all happen at the last minute. One of the rejected chefs, a rabbit, shows up to fight for his honor. Except, due to their difference in size and experience, the rabbit expects Po to kill him. Po refuses to fight, and sets about frantically preparing. We get a few shots of his dad doing the same. Finally, he convinces the bunny to help, but the bunny keeps trying to kill himself in the process. If it weren't so funny it would be disturbing.
Of course Po pulls it off, but he's homesick. He doesn't appear to get very far into the feast before he's confessing to the crowd how much he misses the feast and the chaos of home and his uncle laughing until noodles come out his nose. Surprisingly, the Furious Five are genuinely moved and start talking about their own family memories. Only Shifu is left going, "But-- tradition! Elegance!"
Po arrives back home and prepares all the noodles with mad skill, to the screaming delight of the villagers. And who else should show up but the Furious Five! I knew that was going to happen, but I was still very happy that it did. Even the masters come trailing in, and then the rabbit, to whom Po presents the ladle, and the rabbit stops trying to die.
Shifu walks up to the door, griping about everything being ruined, only to see the masters and Furious Five happily engaging with villagers, telling stories and playing with kids. His heart warms right over, although it still takes some convincing from Po to come in and join the party. Shifu is a man that uses his head a lot, and he's just now coming to understand things that come from the heart, you see. Fade out on a pig drawing a happy picture of the group. The end!
Visuals: 4 out of 5
Spirit: 4.5 out of 5
Nostalgia: 0 out of 5
Humor: 4 out of 5
Music: 0 out of 5
Overall: 4 out of 5
Pretty much everything involving Kung Fu Panda has been a pleasant surprise. This special is much better than the other DreamWorks Christmas specials, although it wouldn't make a bit of sense to anyone who hadn't seen the movie.
We begin with Po having a dream involving noodles, his father, and the villain from the movie. Typical anxiety, world-colliding dream stuff.
Po and his dad (who is still a bird, btw) are getting ready for "Winter Feast," for which they host a big meal/party at the noodle shop every year. Then Shifu turns up to inform Po that as Dragon Warrior, it is his job and honor to host the Winter Feast at the Jade Palace, attended by all the greatest Kung Fu masters. The Furious Five are stunned to hear this, as the Winter Feast at the Palace is a formal affair. Po maintains he can pull off sophisticated, but is disappointed to learn he can't bring his dad. I agree with him, if he's the host, why can't he invite one measly guest of his own?
When all the chefs come to audition for the privilege to cater the feast (and receive the honor of some sort of bejewelled ladle thing), Po decides to hate all of their food and then choose his dad. Po's dad, however, isn't down with this plan. He wants to host his own Winter Feast as planned because the rest of the village depends on him. Which is kind of sweet, actually.
Back at the palace, Po has no chef. Because preparations for a formal, sophisticated event must all happen at the last minute. One of the rejected chefs, a rabbit, shows up to fight for his honor. Except, due to their difference in size and experience, the rabbit expects Po to kill him. Po refuses to fight, and sets about frantically preparing. We get a few shots of his dad doing the same. Finally, he convinces the bunny to help, but the bunny keeps trying to kill himself in the process. If it weren't so funny it would be disturbing.
Of course Po pulls it off, but he's homesick. He doesn't appear to get very far into the feast before he's confessing to the crowd how much he misses the feast and the chaos of home and his uncle laughing until noodles come out his nose. Surprisingly, the Furious Five are genuinely moved and start talking about their own family memories. Only Shifu is left going, "But-- tradition! Elegance!"
Po arrives back home and prepares all the noodles with mad skill, to the screaming delight of the villagers. And who else should show up but the Furious Five! I knew that was going to happen, but I was still very happy that it did. Even the masters come trailing in, and then the rabbit, to whom Po presents the ladle, and the rabbit stops trying to die.
Shifu walks up to the door, griping about everything being ruined, only to see the masters and Furious Five happily engaging with villagers, telling stories and playing with kids. His heart warms right over, although it still takes some convincing from Po to come in and join the party. Shifu is a man that uses his head a lot, and he's just now coming to understand things that come from the heart, you see. Fade out on a pig drawing a happy picture of the group. The end!
Visuals: 4 out of 5
Spirit: 4.5 out of 5
Nostalgia: 0 out of 5
Humor: 4 out of 5
Music: 0 out of 5
Overall: 4 out of 5
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Twelve Blogs of Christmas #1: A Flintstone Christmas
I suppose the most fun I've ever had with this blog was last year when I live-blogged Christmas specials (or Christmas movies, or Christmas episodes of TV shows). So, even though I'm getting a later start this year and won't do as many (you can blame the flooding of my apartment and my resulting temporary location for both of those), I'm going to try to do at least twelve more.
Today-- one that I only vaguely remember. Everyone's favorite prehistoric family. Not that we have many well-established-in-pop-culture prehistoric families to choose from. I'll try not to overthink the fact that they are celebrating Christmas in the BC era.
First we see Wilma, Betty, and the babies bringing home the tree. Then we see Barney and Fred shopping, and Barney giving money to a bell-ringer, which Fred chides him for. Barney says I just can't say no to Santa. And THAT'S how the Salvation Army stays in business, despite their discriminatory practices. Fred points out that those guys aren't really Santa, which leads Barney to sing about how there are so many Santas, any one of them MIGHT be the real one.
Oh, wait-- Pebbles and Bamm Bamm aren't babies anymore-- they're children. Weird. Does anyone else remember when they were teenagers? Or did I dream that?
Fred goes to work Christmas Eve day and gets called to see the boss. The intercom, as you may remember, is a bird that flies into the other room and delivers the message. Fred is afraid he's about to be fired, but it turns out the boss wants him to play Santa at a Christmas party his wife's women's club is hosting for underprivileged kids. Fred is unusually excited about this, or maybe he's just excited that a) he isn't fired and b) he is off work and can go enjoy his Christmas. He sings a song, which, like Barney's before it, isn't particularly impressive.
Fred is proud to announce his Santa gig to Wilma, and she is proud of him, but just as Fred and Barney are heading out, they hear a noise on the roof. Turns out Santa has just fallen off the roof! Fred doesn't think it's really Santa, but Barney is of course ready to believe. I would believe he is Santa simply because he is animated very differently than all the characters. Santa is okay except for a sprained ankle, and describes Fred's roof as "like an obstacle course." They bring the poor guy inside, but when he uses Fred's phone to call the north pole, Fred sends Barney next door to call "the asylum." But Barney spots the sleigh and reindeer on the roof, and calls Fred out to look. Fred is appropriately convinced. I'm glad that didn't drag out for too long.
Fred and Barney convince Santa that he's in no condition to fly around the rest of the world, and offer to make his rounds for him. This kind of seems like an early prototype of The Santa Clause, except with less permanence.
Fred and Barney take to the job very well, except for the whole down-the-chimney thing. So, it appears that they just start throwing the toys off the sleigh, and I guess the toys magically know where to go? I won't overthink it. Of course, Fred is missing his Santa gig at the women's club. He's going to have a hard time explaining that.
The guys hit some turbulence, and lose several bag of presents. They contact Santa via cb radio (wow...) and are told to stop at the North Pole to re-stock. Surprisingly, neither Santa nor Mrs. Claus gets very upset. Maybe this happens a lot. Fred and Barney have some fun in the workshop. We're now on unimpressive song #4. I'm starting to understand why I had only vague memories of this special.
As they fly away from the North Pole, Barney comments on what a nice lady Mrs. Claus is, to which Fred replies, No wonder Santa's so jolly. ...oookkk. Cut to the Christmas party, where the kids are growing increasingly impatient, prompting Wilma to sing a song about hope.
And after the commercial break, Fred does indeed make it to the party, with Barney in tow dressed as an elf. But-- uh-oh, they gave away all the presents so there are none for the underprivileged kids. I'm trying not to overthink the fact that if Santa were real, all kids (at least those who were "good") would get presents from Santa, regardless of socioeconomic status. But, Santa's magic works for his stand-in, and so they conjure up new presents.
Back at home, Santa gets his suit back. But then they overhear Wilma and Betty coming up the walk, griping about the fact that Fred and Barney didn't stay to help clean up. Which the guys of course attribute to their wives losing the Christmas spirit. Especially the part that says goodwill toward men and your husbands most of all. Wow, guys, way to not accept responsibility. It's not like they knew Santa was laid up in your living room. Santa takes off because he doesn't want to deal with angry wives. Fred and Barney tell the wives the truth. Predictably, the wives don't believe them, but they are charmed out of their anger. Barney, Fred, Pebbles, and Bamm-Bamm all wave bye to Santa from the window, while Wilma and Betty laugh at the childlike imaginations. The End!
Like I said, not terribly memorable. My number one memory of the Flintstones and Christmas is this commercial:
Visuals: 1 out of 5
Spirit: 3 out of 5
Nostalgia: 2 out of 5
Humor: 2 out of 5
Music: 1 out of 5
Overall: 2 out of 5
Today-- one that I only vaguely remember. Everyone's favorite prehistoric family. Not that we have many well-established-in-pop-culture prehistoric families to choose from. I'll try not to overthink the fact that they are celebrating Christmas in the BC era.
First we see Wilma, Betty, and the babies bringing home the tree. Then we see Barney and Fred shopping, and Barney giving money to a bell-ringer, which Fred chides him for. Barney says I just can't say no to Santa. And THAT'S how the Salvation Army stays in business, despite their discriminatory practices. Fred points out that those guys aren't really Santa, which leads Barney to sing about how there are so many Santas, any one of them MIGHT be the real one.
Oh, wait-- Pebbles and Bamm Bamm aren't babies anymore-- they're children. Weird. Does anyone else remember when they were teenagers? Or did I dream that?
Fred goes to work Christmas Eve day and gets called to see the boss. The intercom, as you may remember, is a bird that flies into the other room and delivers the message. Fred is afraid he's about to be fired, but it turns out the boss wants him to play Santa at a Christmas party his wife's women's club is hosting for underprivileged kids. Fred is unusually excited about this, or maybe he's just excited that a) he isn't fired and b) he is off work and can go enjoy his Christmas. He sings a song, which, like Barney's before it, isn't particularly impressive.
Fred is proud to announce his Santa gig to Wilma, and she is proud of him, but just as Fred and Barney are heading out, they hear a noise on the roof. Turns out Santa has just fallen off the roof! Fred doesn't think it's really Santa, but Barney is of course ready to believe. I would believe he is Santa simply because he is animated very differently than all the characters. Santa is okay except for a sprained ankle, and describes Fred's roof as "like an obstacle course." They bring the poor guy inside, but when he uses Fred's phone to call the north pole, Fred sends Barney next door to call "the asylum." But Barney spots the sleigh and reindeer on the roof, and calls Fred out to look. Fred is appropriately convinced. I'm glad that didn't drag out for too long.
Fred and Barney convince Santa that he's in no condition to fly around the rest of the world, and offer to make his rounds for him. This kind of seems like an early prototype of The Santa Clause, except with less permanence.
Fred and Barney take to the job very well, except for the whole down-the-chimney thing. So, it appears that they just start throwing the toys off the sleigh, and I guess the toys magically know where to go? I won't overthink it. Of course, Fred is missing his Santa gig at the women's club. He's going to have a hard time explaining that.
The guys hit some turbulence, and lose several bag of presents. They contact Santa via cb radio (wow...) and are told to stop at the North Pole to re-stock. Surprisingly, neither Santa nor Mrs. Claus gets very upset. Maybe this happens a lot. Fred and Barney have some fun in the workshop. We're now on unimpressive song #4. I'm starting to understand why I had only vague memories of this special.
As they fly away from the North Pole, Barney comments on what a nice lady Mrs. Claus is, to which Fred replies, No wonder Santa's so jolly. ...oookkk. Cut to the Christmas party, where the kids are growing increasingly impatient, prompting Wilma to sing a song about hope.
And after the commercial break, Fred does indeed make it to the party, with Barney in tow dressed as an elf. But-- uh-oh, they gave away all the presents so there are none for the underprivileged kids. I'm trying not to overthink the fact that if Santa were real, all kids (at least those who were "good") would get presents from Santa, regardless of socioeconomic status. But, Santa's magic works for his stand-in, and so they conjure up new presents.
Back at home, Santa gets his suit back. But then they overhear Wilma and Betty coming up the walk, griping about the fact that Fred and Barney didn't stay to help clean up. Which the guys of course attribute to their wives losing the Christmas spirit. Especially the part that says goodwill toward men and your husbands most of all. Wow, guys, way to not accept responsibility. It's not like they knew Santa was laid up in your living room. Santa takes off because he doesn't want to deal with angry wives. Fred and Barney tell the wives the truth. Predictably, the wives don't believe them, but they are charmed out of their anger. Barney, Fred, Pebbles, and Bamm-Bamm all wave bye to Santa from the window, while Wilma and Betty laugh at the childlike imaginations. The End!
Like I said, not terribly memorable. My number one memory of the Flintstones and Christmas is this commercial:
Visuals: 1 out of 5
Spirit: 3 out of 5
Nostalgia: 2 out of 5
Humor: 2 out of 5
Music: 1 out of 5
Overall: 2 out of 5
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
The trouble with Wednesdays
Wednesdays are hard right now because my day goes from 7 a.m. to 8:45 p.m. And that's not counting travel time. Up at 6 a.m. and not home until after 9. And I don't
have internet access at work. As a result, my Wednesday evening class is the first class of my graduate student career in which I have broken the rules and facebooked in class. (It's not that I'm a goody-goody, it's that I'm terrified of getting caught)
The rest of this entry has been removed.
have internet access at work. As a result, my Wednesday evening class is the first class of my graduate student career in which I have broken the rules and facebooked in class. (It's not that I'm a goody-goody, it's that I'm terrified of getting caught)
The rest of this entry has been removed.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
summer turns to fall
Technically, according to the calendar, it's still summer. But summer semester officially ended last week-- first with a bang (the research paper that had been giving me panic attacks all summer), and then with a whimper (leftover assignments for Psychopathology, that I had been putting off until after the paper was done). And tomorrow, fall semester officially begins, with exactly one week in between. Seven days, five of which I had to work. Barely passed for a break. Needless to say, I milked the most out of every free minute during that week, reveling in the fact that I wasn't procrastinating some major assignment that would determine my fate for years to come. Because sometimes, that's what it feels like.
It will amuse my readers to know that the seemingly endless supply of Starburst gave way to more and more chocolate as summer school got down to the wire. As Buffy the Vampire Slayer once said, there is no problem that cannot be solved by chocolate.
The week before the research paper of doom was due was my best friend's wedding. You don't know multitasking until you've bought fruit and champagne, then spent a couple of hours dissecting academic articles on the hotel's wi-fi riiiiight up until time to put on the bridesmaid's dress. Surprisingly, I kept my game face on the whole time.
Okay, maybe not the whole time. There was one point where I was particularly hungry and carrying a lot of the bride's stress and it took every ounce of restraint I could muster not to yell at a Subway employee who would. not. stop. asking nosy questions. Only time in my life I have ever wanted to utter the sentence, "WOMAN! Shut up and make me a sandwich!"
Then there was the moment after the bride and groom drove away, which... let's just say there were tears. That moment is always a little emotional, at any wedding-- the symbolism of them driving off into their new life gets to me a little. But most of the time, it is just symbolic. This time, the happy couple was driving away for their wedding night, and then would be moving to Rhode Island. Meaning, this time when I watched the couple drive away, it wasn't just symbolic-- I knew I wouldn't be seeing them again for months. And I still don't know just how many months it will be.
I remember lots and lots of stories in children's literature about best friends moving away. Somehow I escaped that particular heartache in childhood-- we all stayed put in my small town. This is the first time I've really been devastated by a friend moving far away. Yes, we were all apart in college-- but college has an end date, and everyone is home over breaks. The thing I am really not liking about adulthood is that everything feels so permanent.
It has made me clingy-- I want to hold on to everyone else who is nearby!
I am lucky enough to have two women in my life that I can easily refer to as "BFF"-- both of whom have known me since middle school, and SOMEHOW still like me. Now that one is married and far away, I am demanding that the other stay close. Unless she takes me with her. And since she is the only one of us not married, I will be bringing a ton of experience and wisdom to the table when she does get married. I brought this point up Saturday night. We are working on establishing a biweekly Saturday ritual-- also a part of my clinginess, which I am determined to use productively.
You know what hasn't been productive? All the hours I've spent in the past two days watching My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. This is my brother's fault. And I am fully aware of how strange that may sound to some. But we don't have to fit your definitions of normal.
It will amuse my readers to know that the seemingly endless supply of Starburst gave way to more and more chocolate as summer school got down to the wire. As Buffy the Vampire Slayer once said, there is no problem that cannot be solved by chocolate.
The week before the research paper of doom was due was my best friend's wedding. You don't know multitasking until you've bought fruit and champagne, then spent a couple of hours dissecting academic articles on the hotel's wi-fi riiiiight up until time to put on the bridesmaid's dress. Surprisingly, I kept my game face on the whole time.
Okay, maybe not the whole time. There was one point where I was particularly hungry and carrying a lot of the bride's stress and it took every ounce of restraint I could muster not to yell at a Subway employee who would. not. stop. asking nosy questions. Only time in my life I have ever wanted to utter the sentence, "WOMAN! Shut up and make me a sandwich!"
Then there was the moment after the bride and groom drove away, which... let's just say there were tears. That moment is always a little emotional, at any wedding-- the symbolism of them driving off into their new life gets to me a little. But most of the time, it is just symbolic. This time, the happy couple was driving away for their wedding night, and then would be moving to Rhode Island. Meaning, this time when I watched the couple drive away, it wasn't just symbolic-- I knew I wouldn't be seeing them again for months. And I still don't know just how many months it will be.
I remember lots and lots of stories in children's literature about best friends moving away. Somehow I escaped that particular heartache in childhood-- we all stayed put in my small town. This is the first time I've really been devastated by a friend moving far away. Yes, we were all apart in college-- but college has an end date, and everyone is home over breaks. The thing I am really not liking about adulthood is that everything feels so permanent.
It has made me clingy-- I want to hold on to everyone else who is nearby!
I am lucky enough to have two women in my life that I can easily refer to as "BFF"-- both of whom have known me since middle school, and SOMEHOW still like me. Now that one is married and far away, I am demanding that the other stay close. Unless she takes me with her. And since she is the only one of us not married, I will be bringing a ton of experience and wisdom to the table when she does get married. I brought this point up Saturday night. We are working on establishing a biweekly Saturday ritual-- also a part of my clinginess, which I am determined to use productively.
You know what hasn't been productive? All the hours I've spent in the past two days watching My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. This is my brother's fault. And I am fully aware of how strange that may sound to some. But we don't have to fit your definitions of normal.
Friday, July 22, 2011
ain't no cure for the summer school blues
My mom is a teacher. This has affected my perspective of the world.
Because my mom was home during the summer, I was constantly forgetting that other people's parents still had to work. Working year-round seemed like such a bum deal. Poor grown-ups.
Being a grown-up myself now, and not having had a summer completely free of responsibilities since that one between high school and college, I still find working during the summer an incredibly unfair concept.
One of many weird things about grad school is that you are a functioning, bill-paying, in many cases married, in some cases child-raising, adult, yet here you are schlepping books around a college campus, drinking soft drinks like they're going out of style, and counting the days til the next break. Still, you'd think that whole adulthood and working year round thing would make taking summer classes seem reasonable, wouldn't you?
No, you wouldn't. Summer school SUCKS.
For one thing, Tennessee is in the middle of a massive heat wave. And not only does walking from the nearest parking area to the social work building drench you in sweat, but the AC in said building is mediocre at best.
For another thing, it is an entire semester's worth of information crammed into an abbreviated time period-- in the case of a half-term class, five measly little weeks. And yet, that doesn't mean they scale back on assignments. They just pile them right on top of each other. Sleep? Who needs it.
The only thing keeping my comrades and I sane is the ability to laugh at our predicaments. Talking each other down from the ledge with armloads full of frappuccinos and Starburst.
That's another funny thing about summer school: there is an excessive amount of Starburst. Each day during class, we pass around the giant bags, because there's no way we're getting through it without a sugar rush. Other candies and chocolate bars make appearances, but Starburst, for some unknown reason, is the most frequent preferred sugar source of overworked summer school students. I have eaten more Starburst this summer than I have ever eaten in my life.
And now, back to the books.
Because my mom was home during the summer, I was constantly forgetting that other people's parents still had to work. Working year-round seemed like such a bum deal. Poor grown-ups.
Being a grown-up myself now, and not having had a summer completely free of responsibilities since that one between high school and college, I still find working during the summer an incredibly unfair concept.
One of many weird things about grad school is that you are a functioning, bill-paying, in many cases married, in some cases child-raising, adult, yet here you are schlepping books around a college campus, drinking soft drinks like they're going out of style, and counting the days til the next break. Still, you'd think that whole adulthood and working year round thing would make taking summer classes seem reasonable, wouldn't you?
No, you wouldn't. Summer school SUCKS.
For one thing, Tennessee is in the middle of a massive heat wave. And not only does walking from the nearest parking area to the social work building drench you in sweat, but the AC in said building is mediocre at best.
For another thing, it is an entire semester's worth of information crammed into an abbreviated time period-- in the case of a half-term class, five measly little weeks. And yet, that doesn't mean they scale back on assignments. They just pile them right on top of each other. Sleep? Who needs it.
The only thing keeping my comrades and I sane is the ability to laugh at our predicaments. Talking each other down from the ledge with armloads full of frappuccinos and Starburst.
That's another funny thing about summer school: there is an excessive amount of Starburst. Each day during class, we pass around the giant bags, because there's no way we're getting through it without a sugar rush. Other candies and chocolate bars make appearances, but Starburst, for some unknown reason, is the most frequent preferred sugar source of overworked summer school students. I have eaten more Starburst this summer than I have ever eaten in my life.
And now, back to the books.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
princesses, brats, and girlie girl culture
It’s actually been a while since I finished reading Peggy Orenstein’s Cinderella Ate My Daughter, but it is A Book Worth Blogging About. I took notes for this purpose. The author shares a lot of my feelings about the trouble with maintaining role models in the media for young girls.
I was into Disney princesses when I was little, although Disney Princesses ™ were not yet a thing. I adored Aurora, Ariel, and Belle as individuals, but the company had not yet begun lumping them together in merchandise.
Orenstein comments on the transition: “Old-timers like Roy Disney considered it heresy to lump together those from different stories. That is why, these days, when the ladies appear on the same item, they never make eye contact. Each stares off in a slightly different direction, as if unaware of the others’ presence. Now that I have told you, you’ll always notice it. And let me tell you, it’s freaky” (Orenstein, 2011).
Orenstein (who was already an educated feminist writer before she gave birth to a daughter) struggled a lot with letting princesses dominate her daughter’s play. She consulted with other moms, who were equally confused. One mom allowed the merchandise in the house, but not the stories—seems backwards to me. A story is just a story, it’s not necessarily an ideal. But many people may disagree with me on that. I’m not saying that a story can’t have greater implications, but that opens up room for discussion.
I was never really into Barbie—she was too much of an empty vessel—could she not pick ONE career and ONE best friend and ONE car? I wasn’t into changing her clothes over and over again—wasn’t as fun as some girls seemed to think. Her legs were too rubbery to get them off and on easily anyway. Because I didn’t like Barbie, I don’t think I would have liked Bratz if they had been around then. But if I were raising a daughter, I would definitely think Barbie was preferable over Bratz. Barbie is at least an adult, whereas the Bratz look like prepubescent prostitutes. Then came Moxie Girlz, which are basically toned down Bratz, and now there is Monster High, which, as far as I can tell, simply causes confusion. Personally, I think the Monster High dolls are kind of cool looking, but I don’t know that they’re appropriate for the ages they’re being aimed at.
I did enjoy Jem and the Holograms—and I have watched a few episodes recently--that is a blog entry unto itself.
I imagine that if Disney Princesses ™ had been a thing when I was the right age, I would have fallen right into it. And I suppose there would have been worse things to be into. Orenstein reaches that conclusion: as things marketed to young girls go, princesses seem like the safest bet. Princesses do not encourage growing up too fast. Princesses are innocent. Princesses are many things, but they are not hypersexualized.
I don't know where the cultural fascination with princesses began, but if the recent royal wedding is any indication, lots of grown women have yet to fully outgrow it. I admit it-- I even got sucked in to the footage, and pontificated how this may be the only time I would ever see a woman walk into a church a civilian and walk out a princess.
I roll my eyes at the princess merchandise, because I feel it strips the characters of their individual personalities, and a lot of it is just plain cheesy. But I have been known to defend the characters as shown in the movies—some say my perception is skewed, but what I took from Ariel, Belle, and Jasmine was a strong THINK FOR YOURSELF message. These chicks are not settling for what they are “supposed’ to do—they know what they want. Even Jasmine, whose end goal is to get married, demands that Aladdin like and respect her for who she is.
One thing Orenstein pointed out jumped out at me. The princesses never have female friends. At least not in the best-known stories: Pocahontas had one, and Tiana too. I can’t believe I never noticed that. Everyone notices that they never have mothers—again, Tiana had one. I’m not really sure where Disney is going with stripping almost every princess of all female companionship. Granted, none of the male main characters have mothers either—but they have male friends.
Orenstein continued her journey by venturing to American Girl Place. If you’re looking for dolls that don’t encourage girls to grow up too fast, American Girl dolls seem like a good solution—but they are expensive! They were created by Pleasant T. Rowland, a former teacher and textbook editor, with the goal of countering Barbie’s glorification of woman hood by celebrating girlhood and forging a bond between mothers and daughters.
Again, I have to confess that American Girls were something I was into. My grandmother encouraged it—she brought me one of the books and the doll catalogue, and I was hooked. I was in love with the Victorian one, Samantha, and I did learn a lot about American history in the process. I haven’t read the books in years, but I enjoyed them at the time. And the catalogue itself was fascinating—each page summarized a book and had an outfit and accessories JUST FOR THAT BOOK. Although, as Orenstein points out, “The books preach against materialism, but you could blow the college fund on the gear” (Orenstein, 2011).
American Girl Place did not yet exist when I was at the target age, but I have since had the opportunity to visit the one in Chicago. It’s really just a large department store, but like FAO Schwarz and the Disney Store, has a vaguely theme park-esque atmosphere. The friend I was visiting and I wandered from floor to floor and stared at all the surrealness around us—doll accessories wall to wall, doll dioramas, a restaurant with seats and food for dolls, a doll hair salon. And lots and lots of money being spent. Orenstein observes that the mothers are fascinated by the accessories and the detail work, while the daughters’ main focus is on the clothes. What do they buy? Usually some of each. Forging a bond between mothers and daughters indeed.
In 1998, Pleasant sold out to Mattel, the creator of the doll she was trying to compete with (can’t really blame the woman, as it was a hefty paycheck). I’m not entirely clear on the timeline, but I’m betting that’s when the historic girls were relegated to the background and the “American Girls of Today” took over. And when American Girl Place came into being. “The simplicity of American Girl is expensive, while the finery of Princess comes cheap” (Orenstein, 2011).
I talked about the tween stars in an earlier entry. Orenstein describes Miley Cyrus and her ilk as “a different kind of Disney princess” and she is so right. I also appreciated that she mentioned my beloved Clarissa-- Clarissa proved that a female lead could play to both sexes, which encouraged Disney to take a chance on Lizzie McGuire.
That’s So Raven came next, and is to this day the longest-running of the bunch They filmed 65 episodes in rapid succession before Raven could age. I forgot about
That’s So Raven when I wrote the previous entry. It always seemed pretty harmless to me. Then there was the first Disney Channel original musical—The Cheetah Girls. It also starred Raven Symone, and I think its main purpose in life was to cash in on That’s So Raven’s popularity. That and to lay the groundwork for High School Musical. BUT, when I worked at The Disney Store, there was a song that used to play in the store from The Cheetah Girls which had a very strong girl-power message which actually bashed the Disney princesses. I still find that ironic and incredibly cool:
I don't wanna be like Cinderella
Sittin' in a dark old dusty cellar
Waiting for somebody, to come and set me free
I don't wanna be like Snow White waiting
For a handsome prince to come and save me
On a horse of white, unless we're riding side by side
Don't want to depend on no one else
I'd rather rescue myself
I was into Disney princesses when I was little, although Disney Princesses ™ were not yet a thing. I adored Aurora, Ariel, and Belle as individuals, but the company had not yet begun lumping them together in merchandise.
Orenstein comments on the transition: “Old-timers like Roy Disney considered it heresy to lump together those from different stories. That is why, these days, when the ladies appear on the same item, they never make eye contact. Each stares off in a slightly different direction, as if unaware of the others’ presence. Now that I have told you, you’ll always notice it. And let me tell you, it’s freaky” (Orenstein, 2011).
Orenstein (who was already an educated feminist writer before she gave birth to a daughter) struggled a lot with letting princesses dominate her daughter’s play. She consulted with other moms, who were equally confused. One mom allowed the merchandise in the house, but not the stories—seems backwards to me. A story is just a story, it’s not necessarily an ideal. But many people may disagree with me on that. I’m not saying that a story can’t have greater implications, but that opens up room for discussion.
I was never really into Barbie—she was too much of an empty vessel—could she not pick ONE career and ONE best friend and ONE car? I wasn’t into changing her clothes over and over again—wasn’t as fun as some girls seemed to think. Her legs were too rubbery to get them off and on easily anyway. Because I didn’t like Barbie, I don’t think I would have liked Bratz if they had been around then. But if I were raising a daughter, I would definitely think Barbie was preferable over Bratz. Barbie is at least an adult, whereas the Bratz look like prepubescent prostitutes. Then came Moxie Girlz, which are basically toned down Bratz, and now there is Monster High, which, as far as I can tell, simply causes confusion. Personally, I think the Monster High dolls are kind of cool looking, but I don’t know that they’re appropriate for the ages they’re being aimed at.
I did enjoy Jem and the Holograms—and I have watched a few episodes recently--that is a blog entry unto itself.
I imagine that if Disney Princesses ™ had been a thing when I was the right age, I would have fallen right into it. And I suppose there would have been worse things to be into. Orenstein reaches that conclusion: as things marketed to young girls go, princesses seem like the safest bet. Princesses do not encourage growing up too fast. Princesses are innocent. Princesses are many things, but they are not hypersexualized.
I don't know where the cultural fascination with princesses began, but if the recent royal wedding is any indication, lots of grown women have yet to fully outgrow it. I admit it-- I even got sucked in to the footage, and pontificated how this may be the only time I would ever see a woman walk into a church a civilian and walk out a princess.
I roll my eyes at the princess merchandise, because I feel it strips the characters of their individual personalities, and a lot of it is just plain cheesy. But I have been known to defend the characters as shown in the movies—some say my perception is skewed, but what I took from Ariel, Belle, and Jasmine was a strong THINK FOR YOURSELF message. These chicks are not settling for what they are “supposed’ to do—they know what they want. Even Jasmine, whose end goal is to get married, demands that Aladdin like and respect her for who she is.
One thing Orenstein pointed out jumped out at me. The princesses never have female friends. At least not in the best-known stories: Pocahontas had one, and Tiana too. I can’t believe I never noticed that. Everyone notices that they never have mothers—again, Tiana had one. I’m not really sure where Disney is going with stripping almost every princess of all female companionship. Granted, none of the male main characters have mothers either—but they have male friends.
Orenstein continued her journey by venturing to American Girl Place. If you’re looking for dolls that don’t encourage girls to grow up too fast, American Girl dolls seem like a good solution—but they are expensive! They were created by Pleasant T. Rowland, a former teacher and textbook editor, with the goal of countering Barbie’s glorification of woman hood by celebrating girlhood and forging a bond between mothers and daughters.
Again, I have to confess that American Girls were something I was into. My grandmother encouraged it—she brought me one of the books and the doll catalogue, and I was hooked. I was in love with the Victorian one, Samantha, and I did learn a lot about American history in the process. I haven’t read the books in years, but I enjoyed them at the time. And the catalogue itself was fascinating—each page summarized a book and had an outfit and accessories JUST FOR THAT BOOK. Although, as Orenstein points out, “The books preach against materialism, but you could blow the college fund on the gear” (Orenstein, 2011).
American Girl Place did not yet exist when I was at the target age, but I have since had the opportunity to visit the one in Chicago. It’s really just a large department store, but like FAO Schwarz and the Disney Store, has a vaguely theme park-esque atmosphere. The friend I was visiting and I wandered from floor to floor and stared at all the surrealness around us—doll accessories wall to wall, doll dioramas, a restaurant with seats and food for dolls, a doll hair salon. And lots and lots of money being spent. Orenstein observes that the mothers are fascinated by the accessories and the detail work, while the daughters’ main focus is on the clothes. What do they buy? Usually some of each. Forging a bond between mothers and daughters indeed.
In 1998, Pleasant sold out to Mattel, the creator of the doll she was trying to compete with (can’t really blame the woman, as it was a hefty paycheck). I’m not entirely clear on the timeline, but I’m betting that’s when the historic girls were relegated to the background and the “American Girls of Today” took over. And when American Girl Place came into being. “The simplicity of American Girl is expensive, while the finery of Princess comes cheap” (Orenstein, 2011).
I talked about the tween stars in an earlier entry. Orenstein describes Miley Cyrus and her ilk as “a different kind of Disney princess” and she is so right. I also appreciated that she mentioned my beloved Clarissa-- Clarissa proved that a female lead could play to both sexes, which encouraged Disney to take a chance on Lizzie McGuire.
That’s So Raven came next, and is to this day the longest-running of the bunch They filmed 65 episodes in rapid succession before Raven could age. I forgot about
That’s So Raven when I wrote the previous entry. It always seemed pretty harmless to me. Then there was the first Disney Channel original musical—The Cheetah Girls. It also starred Raven Symone, and I think its main purpose in life was to cash in on That’s So Raven’s popularity. That and to lay the groundwork for High School Musical. BUT, when I worked at The Disney Store, there was a song that used to play in the store from The Cheetah Girls which had a very strong girl-power message which actually bashed the Disney princesses. I still find that ironic and incredibly cool:
I don't wanna be like Cinderella
Sittin' in a dark old dusty cellar
Waiting for somebody, to come and set me free
I don't wanna be like Snow White waiting
For a handsome prince to come and save me
On a horse of white, unless we're riding side by side
Don't want to depend on no one else
I'd rather rescue myself
Sunday, April 24, 2011
And now, some silly academia...
Not gonna lie: a lot of things about the past three and a half months have kind of sucked. But the classes themselves have not sucked at all.
I am currently working on the take-home final for the class for which I was the least prepared. In doing so, I am looking over my notes. This was the first class ever which I have taken notes on my laptop. I just got the laptop for Christmas, and my other two classes this semester were not paced in such a way that I felt I had to type notes to keep up.
The whole reason I am blogging when I should be working on my final: these notes are freaking hilarious. Shall I share? I think I shall.
Yes, they are out of context. That's what makes them funny.
you can't get caught up in trying to socialize/educate everyone else in the world. there's not enough time. You don't have to legitimize yourself to everyone
who doesn't understand our profession-- unless you want to pay me a hundred dollars an hour to teach you about it, screw you!
today's pop culture references: Star Trek, Jay-Z, M.C. Hammer, Ben Vereen, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers
POLITICS ARE IRRATIONAL
POLITICS MAKE STRANGE BEDFELLOWS
DON'T LOOK FOR LOGIC
negotiate the environment... don't get shot!
how do you fight fairly? you don't!
it's a cutthroat world out there!!!
Lose the battle but win the war... sometimes you don't even have to win the war, you just have to survive the battle.
Nerve... you've got some nerve... taking everything that you deserve...
Would you hire someone if they told you that they had no weaknesses?
don't end up in jail
don't be like Caesar-- realize what Brutus is about to do before he does it.
The sky is blue on Thanksgiving duck. There were three men walking through a suddenly.
lilies of the field, Sidney Poitier
typing something so my computer doesn't go to sleep
regular class time BUT TRY TO GET THERE EARLY
and be ready to raise hell
Should I revise my powerpoint to be less GRRRRRR and more palatable? Hmm....
PROFESSIONAL DRESS NEXT MONDAY! In other words, go shopping!!!
CHECK OUT SHILOH ROOM!! It is not a Mission to Mars!! I don't remember him saying that, but okay.
presentations will be five minutes long.
Go over working group.... revise powerpoint and political plan, because what I have done is not what is going to work.
This is also the class that gave me an anxiety dream about the professor giving me a grade of -112. That's NEGATIVE one hundred and twelve. I don't know how my brain came up with that particular number. But in the dream, it was very real, and that of course canceled out of my good grades and flunked me out of the program.
That was when I realized I was taking everything way too seriously.
I am currently working on the take-home final for the class for which I was the least prepared. In doing so, I am looking over my notes. This was the first class ever which I have taken notes on my laptop. I just got the laptop for Christmas, and my other two classes this semester were not paced in such a way that I felt I had to type notes to keep up.
The whole reason I am blogging when I should be working on my final: these notes are freaking hilarious. Shall I share? I think I shall.
Yes, they are out of context. That's what makes them funny.
you can't get caught up in trying to socialize/educate everyone else in the world. there's not enough time. You don't have to legitimize yourself to everyone
who doesn't understand our profession-- unless you want to pay me a hundred dollars an hour to teach you about it, screw you!
today's pop culture references: Star Trek, Jay-Z, M.C. Hammer, Ben Vereen, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers
POLITICS ARE IRRATIONAL
POLITICS MAKE STRANGE BEDFELLOWS
DON'T LOOK FOR LOGIC
negotiate the environment... don't get shot!
how do you fight fairly? you don't!
it's a cutthroat world out there!!!
Lose the battle but win the war... sometimes you don't even have to win the war, you just have to survive the battle.
Nerve... you've got some nerve... taking everything that you deserve...
Would you hire someone if they told you that they had no weaknesses?
don't end up in jail
don't be like Caesar-- realize what Brutus is about to do before he does it.
The sky is blue on Thanksgiving duck. There were three men walking through a suddenly.
lilies of the field, Sidney Poitier
typing something so my computer doesn't go to sleep
regular class time BUT TRY TO GET THERE EARLY
and be ready to raise hell
Should I revise my powerpoint to be less GRRRRRR and more palatable? Hmm....
PROFESSIONAL DRESS NEXT MONDAY! In other words, go shopping!!!
CHECK OUT SHILOH ROOM!! It is not a Mission to Mars!! I don't remember him saying that, but okay.
presentations will be five minutes long.
Go over working group.... revise powerpoint and political plan, because what I have done is not what is going to work.
This is also the class that gave me an anxiety dream about the professor giving me a grade of -112. That's NEGATIVE one hundred and twelve. I don't know how my brain came up with that particular number. But in the dream, it was very real, and that of course canceled out of my good grades and flunked me out of the program.
That was when I realized I was taking everything way too seriously.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
As the iCarly theme song says, somehow we're gonna get there.
Remember Britney’s meltdown? Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. No last name needed. THAT Britney. THAT meltdown. She was spotted without underwear a few times, she almost dropped her kids a couple more times, and then she shaved her head. The media ate that up.
Britney Spears. Lindsay Lohan. Mary Kate and Ashley Olson. Demi Lovato. Miley Cyrus. To a lesser extent, Britney’s little sister Jamie Lynn and High School Musical’s Vanessa Hudgens. What do these names evoke? Good girls gone wrong. Shoehorned for so long into the role of kid-friendly role models that the minute they were old enough to gain some independence (whatever that means), they went off the rails. Either they had a massive and public meltdown, or they began doing scandalous things like DRINKING. And DANCING SUGGESTIVELY. The horrors! How dare they do the things that eighteen-year-olds everywhere do?
I know the drinking age is twenty-one. I’m not condoning underage drinking. Hell, in college, I was a freaking prude, ask anyone who knew me then. But, statistically (which is another word for “realistically”), most eighteen-year-olds have experimented with alcohol. And yet the famous ones are held to a different standard.
The fall from grace for Vanessa Hudgens was not quite so dramatic, because everyone understood that the suggestive photos she took of herself were never meant to be seen by the public. People are more understanding when you are betrayed. I guess. Still, she revealed herself to be a sexual being, and that made a lot of people upset. I have to say, I’ve watched bits and pieces of High School Musical and I find it highly disconcerting for the simple reason that the high schoolers are not acting remotely like any high schooler I’ve ever met. Glee does a much better job of portraying high schoolers: drinking, sexting teenagers who also happen to sing peppy songs. All played by adults.
And if you’ll excuse me, I have to contradict myself—what I just said is ENTIRELY beside the point, because—are you listening? This is important—GLEE IS NOT A KID’S SHOW. I shouted that from the rooftops when Lea Michele was recently shamed for appearing on the cover of Cosmopolitan in a *gasp* low-cut dress. If you don’t want your kids seeing Rachel Berry in a low-cut dress, you probably don’t want them watching her get sloppy drunk and draping herself over the ex-boyfriend who, last season, honestly believed he had gotten a girl pregnant by ejaculating in a hot tub. The ACTUAL father of the baby seduced the President of the Celibacy Club with winecoolers and then sold marijuana-laced cupcakes to pay the doctor’s bills. In the meantime, Rachel Berry dated her co-star from Spring Awakening—the show in which she actually got naked on stage. And yet, because she then played a high schooler on a show occasionally watched by children of parents with questionable judgment, it wasn’t okay for her to wear a low-cut dress. Naked on stage—okay. Low cut dress on the cover of a magazine—not okay. Can someone please explain this to me, because I’m very confused.
I caught a lot of flak from friends around the time of the epic Britney meltdown, because I felt the need to defend her. I couldn’t really tell you why, except that I know how it feels to be mentally unstable and yet self-aware enough to know that things are spiraling out of control. It’s not fun. And if I had had paparazzi on my tail around junior year of college—or junior year of high school for that matter—I don’t even want to think about the pictures that would be haunting me.
I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with Miley Cyrus. I find the Hannah Montana franchise pretty annoying, because it’s terribly over merchandised for a TV show that’s moderately clever at best and hellooooooo, Jem did the “rock star with a secret identity” schtick first and did it better. But, I do think Miley is a good performer, and I will in fact sing along with her songs. Or, if I’ve had even one drink, I’ll sing them in my living room for no apparent reason. But that’s neither here nor there.
I’m trying to think who the girls were that played the “kid-friendly role model” role in my life, but I don’t think there were as many choices in the 80’s and early 90’s. After I outgrew Rainbow Brite and Jem, there were D.J. and Stephanie Tanner, but they always took a backseat on their show to the adult male performers and the Olsen twins in their age of innocence. As far as accessible female characters who I could look up to and relate to, who were given the freedom to carry a franchise on their own, only one name springs to mind: Clarissa Darling. That’s right—people think Disney invented the tween girl heroine, but Nickelodeon pioneered the concept first. And as this excellent article points out, it was a show starring a girl that both girls AND boys watched, and that is still something people seem convinced can’t happen.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t a franchise. It was one TV show. But it was AMAZING. I wanted to wear her clothes, live in her bedroom, and have a male best friend who regularly climbed through my window via ladder. But even as that impressionable young girl who wanted to be Clarissa, I understood that there really was no Clarissa. I didn’t want Melissa Joan Hart for a role model. She was older than she played, and frankly, uninteresting (I’ve since learned that she’s a homophobic Republican who gets very bitchy when her acting style is criticized, so it was probably for the best). I didn’t want Melissa, I wanted Clarissa. That seemed to be fine then. So why is Miley’s identity so intrinsically linked with Hannah that the world goes into a tailspin if she does something out of character?
Melissa Joan Hart did get in some trouble for posing in Maxim during her Sabrina the Teenage Witch days, but—please correct me if I’m wrong—I don’t remember that being a big deal.
These thoughts all came to mind after reading this New York Times article about Miranda Cosgrove, aka iCarly. I am not too proud to admit that I enjoy an occasional episode of iCarly, largely because it has the same kind of snarky-but-cute/ let-me-tell-you-what-I-think/ girl-power-is-a-dish-best-served-with-humor vibe that Clarissa Explains It All had. The article makes Miranda Cosgrove seem like a real, down-to-earth, positive role model, but that could just mean she has excellent PR. What’s really striking about the article is the sad truth that everyone is expecting her to crash and burn. Because that’s what kid-friendly female superstars DO. Notice the key word: female. As a follow-up article on Jezebel (which incorrectly states she works for Disney) points out, the boys don’t have this problem. The oldest Jonas brother is twenty-one: no sign of meltdown. Nobody seems concerned about what will happen when Justin Bieber turns eighteen. Let’s face it: it’s different for girls.
But why? That’s the part I can’t quite understand. So I called my brother (the film student) for consultation. He says it’s because little girls are supposed to be sweet and innocent, and there is no clear point where one is allowed to shed that image. The New York Times Article also points out that career-wise, it’s very difficult to move on and have a real career when you’ve already been pigeonholed into the “sweet and innocent” role.
My brother also says that what made Melissa Joan Hart as Clarissa different than the girls today is that cable TV just wasn’t as big of a deal. Nickelodeon flew under the radar then, and there was never any expectation that Melissa Joan Hart should be a role model, or that she should grow up and have any kind of adult career. The fact that her name is still recognizable is probably a surprise to the Nickelodeon execs of yesteryear.
I should probably stop rambling, but I want to point out that there are exceptions. I had the great pleasure (that is sarcasm, in case you didn’t notice) of working at the Disney Store in 2003, and at that point in time, Disney’s great mission in life was to promote Hilary Duff with all their might. Star of a little show called Lizzie McGuire. Don’t remember it? That’s because Hilary Duff had enough of Disney (as did I), and the minute Lizzie McGuire ended, they began pushing Hannah Montana. The first time I saw a promo for Hannah Montana, I said to myself, “Oh, look, they got themselves a new blond girl show.” Little did I know the extent to which that particular blond girl (actually a brunette girl in a wig) would take over Disney. Granted, Hilary Duff is far from a superstar, but she’s not an object of vitriol either.
Good luck, Miranda Cosgrove. I’m rooting for you.
Britney Spears. Lindsay Lohan. Mary Kate and Ashley Olson. Demi Lovato. Miley Cyrus. To a lesser extent, Britney’s little sister Jamie Lynn and High School Musical’s Vanessa Hudgens. What do these names evoke? Good girls gone wrong. Shoehorned for so long into the role of kid-friendly role models that the minute they were old enough to gain some independence (whatever that means), they went off the rails. Either they had a massive and public meltdown, or they began doing scandalous things like DRINKING. And DANCING SUGGESTIVELY. The horrors! How dare they do the things that eighteen-year-olds everywhere do?
I know the drinking age is twenty-one. I’m not condoning underage drinking. Hell, in college, I was a freaking prude, ask anyone who knew me then. But, statistically (which is another word for “realistically”), most eighteen-year-olds have experimented with alcohol. And yet the famous ones are held to a different standard.
The fall from grace for Vanessa Hudgens was not quite so dramatic, because everyone understood that the suggestive photos she took of herself were never meant to be seen by the public. People are more understanding when you are betrayed. I guess. Still, she revealed herself to be a sexual being, and that made a lot of people upset. I have to say, I’ve watched bits and pieces of High School Musical and I find it highly disconcerting for the simple reason that the high schoolers are not acting remotely like any high schooler I’ve ever met. Glee does a much better job of portraying high schoolers: drinking, sexting teenagers who also happen to sing peppy songs. All played by adults.
And if you’ll excuse me, I have to contradict myself—what I just said is ENTIRELY beside the point, because—are you listening? This is important—GLEE IS NOT A KID’S SHOW. I shouted that from the rooftops when Lea Michele was recently shamed for appearing on the cover of Cosmopolitan in a *gasp* low-cut dress. If you don’t want your kids seeing Rachel Berry in a low-cut dress, you probably don’t want them watching her get sloppy drunk and draping herself over the ex-boyfriend who, last season, honestly believed he had gotten a girl pregnant by ejaculating in a hot tub. The ACTUAL father of the baby seduced the President of the Celibacy Club with winecoolers and then sold marijuana-laced cupcakes to pay the doctor’s bills. In the meantime, Rachel Berry dated her co-star from Spring Awakening—the show in which she actually got naked on stage. And yet, because she then played a high schooler on a show occasionally watched by children of parents with questionable judgment, it wasn’t okay for her to wear a low-cut dress. Naked on stage—okay. Low cut dress on the cover of a magazine—not okay. Can someone please explain this to me, because I’m very confused.
I caught a lot of flak from friends around the time of the epic Britney meltdown, because I felt the need to defend her. I couldn’t really tell you why, except that I know how it feels to be mentally unstable and yet self-aware enough to know that things are spiraling out of control. It’s not fun. And if I had had paparazzi on my tail around junior year of college—or junior year of high school for that matter—I don’t even want to think about the pictures that would be haunting me.
I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with Miley Cyrus. I find the Hannah Montana franchise pretty annoying, because it’s terribly over merchandised for a TV show that’s moderately clever at best and hellooooooo, Jem did the “rock star with a secret identity” schtick first and did it better. But, I do think Miley is a good performer, and I will in fact sing along with her songs. Or, if I’ve had even one drink, I’ll sing them in my living room for no apparent reason. But that’s neither here nor there.
I’m trying to think who the girls were that played the “kid-friendly role model” role in my life, but I don’t think there were as many choices in the 80’s and early 90’s. After I outgrew Rainbow Brite and Jem, there were D.J. and Stephanie Tanner, but they always took a backseat on their show to the adult male performers and the Olsen twins in their age of innocence. As far as accessible female characters who I could look up to and relate to, who were given the freedom to carry a franchise on their own, only one name springs to mind: Clarissa Darling. That’s right—people think Disney invented the tween girl heroine, but Nickelodeon pioneered the concept first. And as this excellent article points out, it was a show starring a girl that both girls AND boys watched, and that is still something people seem convinced can’t happen.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t a franchise. It was one TV show. But it was AMAZING. I wanted to wear her clothes, live in her bedroom, and have a male best friend who regularly climbed through my window via ladder. But even as that impressionable young girl who wanted to be Clarissa, I understood that there really was no Clarissa. I didn’t want Melissa Joan Hart for a role model. She was older than she played, and frankly, uninteresting (I’ve since learned that she’s a homophobic Republican who gets very bitchy when her acting style is criticized, so it was probably for the best). I didn’t want Melissa, I wanted Clarissa. That seemed to be fine then. So why is Miley’s identity so intrinsically linked with Hannah that the world goes into a tailspin if she does something out of character?
Melissa Joan Hart did get in some trouble for posing in Maxim during her Sabrina the Teenage Witch days, but—please correct me if I’m wrong—I don’t remember that being a big deal.
These thoughts all came to mind after reading this New York Times article about Miranda Cosgrove, aka iCarly. I am not too proud to admit that I enjoy an occasional episode of iCarly, largely because it has the same kind of snarky-but-cute/ let-me-tell-you-what-I-think/ girl-power-is-a-dish-best-served-with-humor vibe that Clarissa Explains It All had. The article makes Miranda Cosgrove seem like a real, down-to-earth, positive role model, but that could just mean she has excellent PR. What’s really striking about the article is the sad truth that everyone is expecting her to crash and burn. Because that’s what kid-friendly female superstars DO. Notice the key word: female. As a follow-up article on Jezebel (which incorrectly states she works for Disney) points out, the boys don’t have this problem. The oldest Jonas brother is twenty-one: no sign of meltdown. Nobody seems concerned about what will happen when Justin Bieber turns eighteen. Let’s face it: it’s different for girls.
But why? That’s the part I can’t quite understand. So I called my brother (the film student) for consultation. He says it’s because little girls are supposed to be sweet and innocent, and there is no clear point where one is allowed to shed that image. The New York Times Article also points out that career-wise, it’s very difficult to move on and have a real career when you’ve already been pigeonholed into the “sweet and innocent” role.
My brother also says that what made Melissa Joan Hart as Clarissa different than the girls today is that cable TV just wasn’t as big of a deal. Nickelodeon flew under the radar then, and there was never any expectation that Melissa Joan Hart should be a role model, or that she should grow up and have any kind of adult career. The fact that her name is still recognizable is probably a surprise to the Nickelodeon execs of yesteryear.
I should probably stop rambling, but I want to point out that there are exceptions. I had the great pleasure (that is sarcasm, in case you didn’t notice) of working at the Disney Store in 2003, and at that point in time, Disney’s great mission in life was to promote Hilary Duff with all their might. Star of a little show called Lizzie McGuire. Don’t remember it? That’s because Hilary Duff had enough of Disney (as did I), and the minute Lizzie McGuire ended, they began pushing Hannah Montana. The first time I saw a promo for Hannah Montana, I said to myself, “Oh, look, they got themselves a new blond girl show.” Little did I know the extent to which that particular blond girl (actually a brunette girl in a wig) would take over Disney. Granted, Hilary Duff is far from a superstar, but she’s not an object of vitriol either.
Good luck, Miranda Cosgrove. I’m rooting for you.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Earwax Buildup
I was going to blog about my car's terrible fate, but it seems insensitive in light of the tragedy in Japan. Why should I be sad about losing a car when others lost everything? So, instead, I'm going to blog about earwax. Yes, earwax.
I remember saying "do you have an earwax buildup?" when I was a teenager. My friends and I just thought it was a funny thing to say when someone couldn't hear something. I never knew that earwax could actually build up to the point where it affected your hearing. But it can, and it did.
For about two weeks, I've been feeling increased pressure in my right ear, and if I was lying in bed on my left side (I am a side sleeper), I couldn't hear anything. I had this problem once before, but it cleared up on its own. I kept thinking it would do that this time, but it didn't. It got worse.
By the beginning of this week, it had spread to both ears, and was still getting worse. I had the TV turned up to 34, and I didn't hear the door when my husband came into the apartment. My mom thought it might be allergy-related, so when I went to see her on Sunday, she sent me home with Zyrtec. When I finally went to bed at 1:00 am (spring break!), all the Zyrtec accomplished was knocking me out for twelve hours.
Last night I went to Bible Study, and had barely gotten in the door before I was asking friends to repeat themselves. I nodded my way through most of the conversation, imitating what my grandfather does. There was a cat outside, apparently, that my friends kept saying was yowling. When I admitted that I couldn't hear the cat at all, my friends told me to go to the doctor. This sentiment was later echoed by my husband when he realized how loud the TV had been turned up.
I went to the walk-in clinic today, lacking the energy to make an actual appointment. After sitting in the waiting room for over an hour, I finally saw a doctor, who looked in my ears and proclaimed them "all the way blocked" and in need of being "washed out." I had no idea this was something one could actually have done at a doctor's office.
Only one nurse in the place was willing to take on the task, since even among medical professionals, earwax is considered pretty darn gross. And it was pretty gross, to see the water and peroxide she pumped in with a heavy duty syringe type shooter (I do not know the proper terminology) come out BROWN. And it took several times, but finally she pulled out what-- I kid you not-- looked like a small animal.
And that's when I was struck by how LOUD everything seemed. On the drive home, I could hear not only the engine running, but the wind blowing, and then I came into my apartment and heard a clock ticking. I can't remember the last time the clock was audible. My earwax had to have been building up for some time. When I turn my head, I can hear my hair move. This is a very weird feeling.
In conclusion, kids: clean your ears on a regular basis, with chemicals if necessary. Earwax buildups are not a joke.
I remember saying "do you have an earwax buildup?" when I was a teenager. My friends and I just thought it was a funny thing to say when someone couldn't hear something. I never knew that earwax could actually build up to the point where it affected your hearing. But it can, and it did.
For about two weeks, I've been feeling increased pressure in my right ear, and if I was lying in bed on my left side (I am a side sleeper), I couldn't hear anything. I had this problem once before, but it cleared up on its own. I kept thinking it would do that this time, but it didn't. It got worse.
By the beginning of this week, it had spread to both ears, and was still getting worse. I had the TV turned up to 34, and I didn't hear the door when my husband came into the apartment. My mom thought it might be allergy-related, so when I went to see her on Sunday, she sent me home with Zyrtec. When I finally went to bed at 1:00 am (spring break!), all the Zyrtec accomplished was knocking me out for twelve hours.
Last night I went to Bible Study, and had barely gotten in the door before I was asking friends to repeat themselves. I nodded my way through most of the conversation, imitating what my grandfather does. There was a cat outside, apparently, that my friends kept saying was yowling. When I admitted that I couldn't hear the cat at all, my friends told me to go to the doctor. This sentiment was later echoed by my husband when he realized how loud the TV had been turned up.
I went to the walk-in clinic today, lacking the energy to make an actual appointment. After sitting in the waiting room for over an hour, I finally saw a doctor, who looked in my ears and proclaimed them "all the way blocked" and in need of being "washed out." I had no idea this was something one could actually have done at a doctor's office.
Only one nurse in the place was willing to take on the task, since even among medical professionals, earwax is considered pretty darn gross. And it was pretty gross, to see the water and peroxide she pumped in with a heavy duty syringe type shooter (I do not know the proper terminology) come out BROWN. And it took several times, but finally she pulled out what-- I kid you not-- looked like a small animal.
And that's when I was struck by how LOUD everything seemed. On the drive home, I could hear not only the engine running, but the wind blowing, and then I came into my apartment and heard a clock ticking. I can't remember the last time the clock was audible. My earwax had to have been building up for some time. When I turn my head, I can hear my hair move. This is a very weird feeling.
In conclusion, kids: clean your ears on a regular basis, with chemicals if necessary. Earwax buildups are not a joke.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Springtime for Hitler
As you can tell by the lack of blogging, this semester has been insane, and it's not even half over (or is it? I don't really know). I feel like the entire month of February has been a blur. I even quit one of my jobs (the one that wasn't social work related) and still haven't been able to slow down. How is that fair?
Well, okay, I did slow down last Tuesday. The day after Valentine's Day. It was my first day off from both school and work in three weeks, and I went to bed at 9:30 Valentine's Day night, with no alarm set and my phone off. Slept like a rock until 1pm Tuesday.
I've also implemented a regular two-hour nap until my schedule. I find I'm much more efficient this way. Means I'm up late into the night some nights, but that was happening anyway-- at least this way it's more productive.
One of my professors this semester is a scary man. A good teacher, but he likes to employ intimidation tactics, which I do not respond well to. Confession time: I do not like it when people yell. It shuts me down. He also makes strange pop culture references: among them Rodney Dangerfield, Star Trek, and Aretha Franklin. I have a more complete list somewhere.
Said scary man assigned me a term paper about a far scarier man: Adolf Hitler. That is what has consumed my every spare moment for the past two weeks. It's kind of taken over my brain. Did you know that Hitler had a dog named Blondi, whom he killed before killing himself? Did you know that he had a sister named Paula, who was alive until 1960? She changed her name and laid pretty low in her waning years... can't say I blame her.
I used to be under the impression that Hitler was a wannabe artist turned politician, but it seems he was really more like both, in perpetuity. He could have been an architect if he'd been willing to go back and finish high school, but he was stubborn. And only an artist could have crafted the public image and propaganda that he did.
I knew I had been working on the paper for too long when I began to feel sorry for Hitler and his world falling apart. I watched the movie Downfall Saturday night, as a means of closure. Yes, that's the movie where Hitler screams at his men in a scene that has been recaptioned and youtubed over and over again. It was a pretty fascinating movie, and evoked sympathy for many of the people involved-- people who started out as honest folk trying to make an honest living, and ended up deeply entrenched in something far more horrific than they could imagine. A lot of Hitler's closest cohorts didn't even know the conditions of the concentration camps. Hitler made sure of that. In fact, he himself never once set foot on a concentration camp's grounds. It would have damaged his carefully crafted reputation.
So, that's how my last two weeks have gone. My humanity may have suffered a bit. People look at you REALLY strangely when you read a biography of Hitler in public. Especially in Pep Boys, where they were unable to fix my driver's side door. So, I continue to climb out the passenger side.
Well, okay, I did slow down last Tuesday. The day after Valentine's Day. It was my first day off from both school and work in three weeks, and I went to bed at 9:30 Valentine's Day night, with no alarm set and my phone off. Slept like a rock until 1pm Tuesday.
I've also implemented a regular two-hour nap until my schedule. I find I'm much more efficient this way. Means I'm up late into the night some nights, but that was happening anyway-- at least this way it's more productive.
One of my professors this semester is a scary man. A good teacher, but he likes to employ intimidation tactics, which I do not respond well to. Confession time: I do not like it when people yell. It shuts me down. He also makes strange pop culture references: among them Rodney Dangerfield, Star Trek, and Aretha Franklin. I have a more complete list somewhere.
Said scary man assigned me a term paper about a far scarier man: Adolf Hitler. That is what has consumed my every spare moment for the past two weeks. It's kind of taken over my brain. Did you know that Hitler had a dog named Blondi, whom he killed before killing himself? Did you know that he had a sister named Paula, who was alive until 1960? She changed her name and laid pretty low in her waning years... can't say I blame her.
I used to be under the impression that Hitler was a wannabe artist turned politician, but it seems he was really more like both, in perpetuity. He could have been an architect if he'd been willing to go back and finish high school, but he was stubborn. And only an artist could have crafted the public image and propaganda that he did.
I knew I had been working on the paper for too long when I began to feel sorry for Hitler and his world falling apart. I watched the movie Downfall Saturday night, as a means of closure. Yes, that's the movie where Hitler screams at his men in a scene that has been recaptioned and youtubed over and over again. It was a pretty fascinating movie, and evoked sympathy for many of the people involved-- people who started out as honest folk trying to make an honest living, and ended up deeply entrenched in something far more horrific than they could imagine. A lot of Hitler's closest cohorts didn't even know the conditions of the concentration camps. Hitler made sure of that. In fact, he himself never once set foot on a concentration camp's grounds. It would have damaged his carefully crafted reputation.
So, that's how my last two weeks have gone. My humanity may have suffered a bit. People look at you REALLY strangely when you read a biography of Hitler in public. Especially in Pep Boys, where they were unable to fix my driver's side door. So, I continue to climb out the passenger side.
Monday, January 17, 2011
It begins again.
First official day of the semester was Wednesday the 12th. I am rebelling against the constraints of my extended-study-ness and taking a whopping three classes this semester. However, only one of those met last Wednesday. The other two are Monday-only classes, and they don't meet today because of MLK Jr. Day. So they don't actually meet until a week and a half into the semester, if you can believe that.
My first class of the semester was quite nice, however. It is the ONLY section of Intro to Social Work Practice offered this semester, so it is populated by EVERY first-year extended study student in the program. And I was pleasantly surprised to discover how many familiar faces there were. Apparently I was not actually the only extended study person in both of my classes last semester. We were all just quiet about it, since we all felt vaguely like second-class citizens.
This semester may force me to face realities of being in school that last semester didn't. Last semester I did not have to buy textbooks (all the readings were online) and the only final I had was a take-home that was really just a paper. This semester, I've already spent a hundred bucks on textbooks, and the finals are lying in wait in spring. I'm glad I got that one semester of reprieve!
My first class of the semester was quite nice, however. It is the ONLY section of Intro to Social Work Practice offered this semester, so it is populated by EVERY first-year extended study student in the program. And I was pleasantly surprised to discover how many familiar faces there were. Apparently I was not actually the only extended study person in both of my classes last semester. We were all just quiet about it, since we all felt vaguely like second-class citizens.
This semester may force me to face realities of being in school that last semester didn't. Last semester I did not have to buy textbooks (all the readings were online) and the only final I had was a take-home that was really just a paper. This semester, I've already spent a hundred bucks on textbooks, and the finals are lying in wait in spring. I'm glad I got that one semester of reprieve!
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
I love Neil Patrick Harris.
I love Neil Patrick Harris. I love him as Doogie Howser. I love him as Barney Stinson. I love him as Dr. Horrible. I love him as the Fairy Shoeperson on Sesame Street. I love him reading Beverly Cleary's Henry Huggins books. I love him singing "Dream On" on Glee. And, like the eleven-year-old I spent the day with today, I love him as the evil Dr. Blowhole.
When I learned that Neil Patrick Harris and his partner (David Burtka, who is also quite a cutie) were going to be parents of twins, I squealed out loud. I squealed again when I learned that last week's People magazine had the first published pictures of the babies. I immediately searched the internet to see if said pictures were online. Only one was. But the reason I'm blogging about this is that the comments on the brief People website writeup shocked me. Apparently there are STILL people out there who think that it is an abomination for two people of the same sex to have children. Maybe I'm naive, but it honestly surprised me.
Maybe it surprised me that anyone could feel that way because I can't imagine any better circumstances to be born into than to be a twin born to Neil Patrick Harris. Those kids are going to have the best lullabies and bedtime stories that any kid ever had. They will never want for anything. They get to have play dates with Alyson Hannigan and Alexis Denisof's kids. And, most importantly, they have two dads who clearly love them and wanted them very much. Same sex couples don't accidentally get pregnant-- when they have kids, they are absolutely wanted kids. And that is an absolutely beautiful thing.
Plus, the mere fact that Neil Patrick Harris exists and is such a talented, beloved celebrity should remove any suspicion that God hates gay people. God has clearly blessed that man, and I, for one, thank Him for it. I think little Gideon and Harper will too.
And anyone who thinks that heterosexual parents don't have the potential to screw up their kids' lives needs a good hard dose of reality. Come to my workplace for a day.
When I learned that Neil Patrick Harris and his partner (David Burtka, who is also quite a cutie) were going to be parents of twins, I squealed out loud. I squealed again when I learned that last week's People magazine had the first published pictures of the babies. I immediately searched the internet to see if said pictures were online. Only one was. But the reason I'm blogging about this is that the comments on the brief People website writeup shocked me. Apparently there are STILL people out there who think that it is an abomination for two people of the same sex to have children. Maybe I'm naive, but it honestly surprised me.
Maybe it surprised me that anyone could feel that way because I can't imagine any better circumstances to be born into than to be a twin born to Neil Patrick Harris. Those kids are going to have the best lullabies and bedtime stories that any kid ever had. They will never want for anything. They get to have play dates with Alyson Hannigan and Alexis Denisof's kids. And, most importantly, they have two dads who clearly love them and wanted them very much. Same sex couples don't accidentally get pregnant-- when they have kids, they are absolutely wanted kids. And that is an absolutely beautiful thing.
Plus, the mere fact that Neil Patrick Harris exists and is such a talented, beloved celebrity should remove any suspicion that God hates gay people. God has clearly blessed that man, and I, for one, thank Him for it. I think little Gideon and Harper will too.
And anyone who thinks that heterosexual parents don't have the potential to screw up their kids' lives needs a good hard dose of reality. Come to my workplace for a day.
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