Covering Ted

Since Senator Ted Kennedy's seizure on Saturday and subsequent diagnosis with a malignant brain tumor, the media has expressed shock, sorrow, hopelessness and now, lacking anything more to say about the situation, has seen fit to just go on and eulogize the man. While he's out sailing in his sailboat.

It is but the latest example, in my opinion, of just what's wrong with today's 24-hour-a-day, seven-days-a-week endless talking head coverage on channels like CNN, CNBC and others. The never ending need for stories, whether they are newsworthy or not, has pushed the definition of "news" into a whole new realm. Now not only is the story the story, but also what someone THINKS about the story is news and what MIGHT happen is news and what will LIKELY happen is news. Even how everyone FEELS passes for news these days.

Many of the print stories are accompanied by pieces quoting this or that doctor painting a bleak picture of Kennedy's chances. The statistic I read most is that "half" of all patients with conditions similar to Kennedy's die within a year of treatment.

I'm not very good at math, but doesn't this mean Kennedy is just as likely as not to live another year? Maybe longer. The only thing Kennedy himself has said is that he is "optimistic".

In one CNBC "news" interview Brian Williams lauded Kennedy as the "nucleus of the American family" and speculated for a good five minutes on how the Kennedy family must be feeling right now. (Duh.) All of this chatting was accompanied by a large red graphic at the bottom of the screen that silently screeched "Breaking News". The whole discussion was called a "report".

And, you know, I'm sorry but the last time I checked? A breaking news report should be something more than idle speculation about how someone may feel. What I've just described here is a talk show, not news.

I count at least ten similar reports at CNBC alone, some of them speculating on possible treatment and outcomes, many of them reporting what other people said about the situation. They are calling Kennedy an "icon", and "the Senate's last lion" (McCain) and legislators are apparently openly weeping on the Senate floor.

Is it just me or does all this smack of "already dead" as opposed to "newly diagnosed"?

According to his wife, the optimistic Senator Kennedy himself is hoping to participate in an annual sailing race this weekend off Cape Cod. And I for one hope he does. Anything to keep him away from endlessly grim, unnecessary and downright inappropriate speculation of what passes for "the press" these days.

Obviously, Kennedy is a a well loved and important figure in American politics. And this is not a good diagnosis. Still, does he not deserve a chance to live until he dies? To hope until he can't? Can we not show the man a little respect in what may or may not be the twilight of his life?

I would encourage the maudlin media, the pre-eulogizing politicians and the sobbing Senators to put on their big boy or girl panties and have a little respect for a man they all profess to love and admire so much.

And shut the hell up already.

(Because I'm sure they're all reading.)

What to do this weekend...

Learn more here and listen to an artist that I am looking forward to, Robinella, here. Hear the Ivas John Band here. The festival will be, literally, twice the size it was last year--don't miss it.

Chelsea Lately

Am I the only one around here with a raging girl crush on Chelsea Handler star of the E! show Chelsea Lately? The show, that airs weeknights at 10:30 PM, and which I have for some reason just now discovered, features comedienne Chelsea Handler and an interesting variety guests commenting on and sending up entertainment news of the day. It has become my new Johnny Carson. If, that is, Johnny was a cute, blond, funny and fabulous girl. Instead of Ed McMahon, Chelsea has Chuy, her pint-sized Latin sidekick.

Best of all, Chelsea doesn't mind making fun of herself. Here, she reenacts a recent unfortunate experience she had while taking Ambien sleep medication. (Gee. Where have we heard THAT before?)




Disclaimer: Normally? Chelsea is a really snappy dresser. No idea what's going on with that trainwreck of a dress she's wearing in the monologue. Must have been one of Those Days.

Chelsea's latest book: Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea hit the top of the New York Times bestseller list earlier this month.

Credit Where Credit is Due

When I found an envelope in my mailbox with a Jackson Purchase Electric return address yesterday, I tossed it in my purse knowing it must surely be the very first electric bill I would have to pay all by myself in, well, a long while. As you can imagine, I was in no hurry to find out the bad news.

So, how surprised was I this afternoon when, instead of a bill, I pulled a check from that envelope? A check for $75. Made out to me. A refund of the reconnect fee I vented about in this very blog because of my strong (to say the least) belief that I was unfairly charged. I'll admit I sent their customer service department a link to that rather heated May 1st post.

So, thanks Jackson Purchase customer service, for righting a wrong that was both financially and practically especially painful for me to bear.

(And never under estimate the power of the Blog.)

A Key West Memory

I took this photo from the plane (and, yes, any time I think or write the phrase "the plane" Herve Villechaize comes shreiking out of a dark corner of my brain in his white Tattoo tux squeaking "De plane, boss, de plane!") during the scenic flight to the Dry Tortugas. I alluded to seeing this place in my earlier post, but thought you might like to see a photo. Of some lucky someone's very own private island.

And I think getting a massage is decadent.

(The photo is clickable for a larger version.)

Go Ahead On

Read something good today.

Cloverfield, etc.

With everything going on in my life these days, a few of my old habits have fallen by the wayside. Like the management of my Netflix queue. Gone are the times when queue updating and careful orchestration was an important near daily task (and I do miss it).

Still, I manage to sandwich in a flick now and then and, most recently, that movie was Cloverfield. It's a film I had really high hopes for, being as I am one of those people who is always hoping to actually be scared sh!tless by a movie. It doesn't happen very often.

Horror is the most difficult of genres; a half-step this way or that quickly lands a filmmaker in the realm of the ridiculous. Horror is, I think, mostly the art of subtlety usually coupled with a big ol' slap in the face now and then. And I doubt today's ham-handed movie makers can even spell subtle much less accomplish it on film or really grasp the concept. (I'm talking Hollywood here, not the Indies which is where, if we have any, all our hope lies.)

So, anyway, Cloverfield, as it turns out, is basically Blair Witch Project meets Godzilla but with better special effects. It's worth seeing for a few cheap thrills, but there's definitely nothing new here. And the dialogue...oy. Let me give you a sample of roughly seventy-five percent of it:

"Rob...Rob! Oh my God, Rob! Rob! No...no, Rob! Come back Rob! Rob! That's an electronics store...Rob! Rob! What are you doing, Rob?! Rob! ROB! We can't go that way, Rob! ROB! COME BACK! NO! OHMYGOD! ROB! ROOOOOB!..."

Yes, people, Rob is a very busy guy. Obviously they were going for realism here, but gah, stop it. On the bright side, the movie could be useful as a frat party game--everyone drinks when they hear "Rob". Anyone conscious after the first third of the film wins. (Does anyone besides me remember the "The Bob Newhart Show" drinking game? Man. How long ago was that?).

If you're wondering what horror films I DO consider great (and you are, aren't you?), I'll give you my top ten. As of today (because these things are constantly in flux) in no particular order:

Jaws
Psycho
The Ring
The Exorcist
The Mothman Prophecies
Rosemary's Baby
The Omen
Alien
Poltergeist
The Shining

Other recent films I've taken in include Dan in Real Life, a uneven romantic comedy that aspires to the heights of Cousins, but barely makes it passed Hallmark movie status. I'm not sure what is going on with Juliette Binoche in this one, she is usually a fairly reliable sentimental favorite of mine since her unforgettable breakthrough performance in Damage, holy CRAP, was that ever intense. Anyway, she is a little lost in this movie performance-wise, but seems to have undergone a bit of an overhaul appearance-wise. A nip here and tuck there were in evidence along with a general slimming down.

I saw Twenty Seven Dresses on the plane back from Key West and it was absolute trite, predictable crap. With one small exception: they had the good sense to include a tune from my girl Regina Spektor in the soundtrack (Fidelity).

In conclusion: rent Cloverfield for the special effects but don't expect innovation, pass on Dan in Real Life and 27 Dresses.

If you want to see something really interesting, rent my sidebar recommendation, Can Mr. Smith Get to Washington Anymore? a film about a young, smart, but unlikely candidate for the US House of Representatives from Missouri named Jeff Smith. Smith ran against Russ Carnahan, a candidate with a huge amount of name recognition. The film is a fascinating look at the political process in this country today and what it takes to win.

Honey...I'm home!

I did it. I went back to work on Thursday. And they didn't send me home and I stayed all day and worked and then did it again today.

You know I have a strict no-mixing-the-blog-with-work policy, but I think it's okay if I say that it was a pretty darn wonderful two days of working. While the position I hold now is new to me, the work place and the majority of my co-workers are not. They are people I've worked with before and have known, in some cases, for nearly twenty years. It is really a joy to be around and work with people that I also consider to be great friends. I am lucky, indeed, to have managed such a happy re-entry into the working world.

Mid-morning of my second day on the job, these arrived:

A little gift from the ex-man to wish me well.

And, yes, it made me sad. But happy too. It made me think that maybe? Everything's going to be all right.

Snow Day

I arose this morning for the first time in a long time to the sound of an early morning alarm. I was a little relieved to know I could still do it, actually. After a long hot shower and unusually (for me these days) long make-up session, I got gussied up in something relatively professional, stepped into the pumps I dug out after a frantic last-minute closet reorganization the evening before (I hadn't seen my work clothes in nearly a year), and made the drive to work.

Yes, Work.

There I learned that, due to a mislaid letter and other miscommunications, I wasn't actually supposed to start until...tomorrow.

Woohoo! A last minute reprieve.

I hopped back in my car, cranked my Regina Spektor CD (my obsession w/track six continues), and considered how I would spend my little windfall of eight extra hours as I drove home. Ultimately, I concluded that a quiet day (it's rainy after all) of blogging and reading would be in order.

So, here I am back on my couch with my laptop and it's not even 9:00 a.m. Life is good.

As noted in my sidebar, my book du jour is Almost There Journey of a Dublin Woman by Nuala O'Faolain. After reading this post and then this heartbreaking article, I impulse bought the memoir from the Amazon Marketplace. I learned only after I received the book and began reading that it is actually the second installment in a two-book series of memoirs, the first being Are You Somebody.

In any case, I will definitely be reading both, Nuala is a wildly talented writer. Or I should say was a wildly talented writer. She died May 9th, so the book is an especially bittersweet read. It's maybe just the thing to remind me to rejoice in the life that I have left, that we all have left. As I continue my own journey with a new job.

Tomorrow.