Raising a Music Snob Comes Back To Haunt

During a "Fresh Air" interview last year, Nick Lowe made me laugh out loud with his observation of overreaching, hipster parents. I'm bungling the quote, but here's the gist of what he said: "You hear these people saying, 'My 1-year-old loves The Clash.' No, they don't!"

How about 8-year-olds?

I'm one of those parents who decided early on that I wasn't trading in my Beck CDs for Barney or Kidz Bop. If you're riding in a car that I paid for, I'm in charge of the playlist. The only problem is that my son is a bit of a tyrant when it comes to the iPod. And it's my fault, because I cultivated his music snobbery very early. With the exception of Dan Zanes and They Might Be Giants, he has never listened to "children's music" at home. I think he might turn out to be one of those guys who chooses girlfriends based on whether they like Sigur Ros or Al Green.

Even before I've cranked up the car, he's ready with his list of musical requests. And lately, there have been morning playlist skirmishes. I mean, I'm not friggin’ Rick Dees.

"Can you play that na-na-na-na song? I wanna hear that today." (That would be Beck's "E-Pro.")

"No, I want to hear something else." (Cues Nancy Sinatra.)

"This is boring!" (Pouts)

"Too bad."

"What about 'The Pretender?' Please?" (Whines)

"No. This is my car, not yours."

"You never let me do anything! It's not always about you."

"Be quiet so I can hear, thanks." (Defiantly turns up volume.)

I don't have this problem with my daughter, but that's because she doesn't care. Jon Brion? Fine. Outkast? Sure, whatever. Unfortunately, I think she's being influenced by her dad, whose tastes lean toward urban contemporary. Worse, he is fond of Nickelback. Do you see what I'm up against?

So while I admire my son's strong musical opinions, they're annoying. Which is something we have in common.

But at least he doesn't like Nickelback.

Goodbye, Catfish Pad

The Catfish Pad was one of those hole-in-the wall, word-of-mouth places that every town should have. The decor was minimal, and sometimes you couldn't find a parking space. The food made that irrelevant: Succulent fried catfish, grits, homemade coleslaw. It wasn't health food, and it was delicious.

So I'm saddened — and kinda pissed off — that a robbery has shut the joint down for good. According to the Tallahassee Democrat, two men held up the Catfish Pad on June 2, and that sealed the owner's decision to call it quits. Having a gun pointed at you will do that.

It's terrible to rob anyone, but targeting a beloved, local restaurant is really hitting below the belt. The restaurant business is hard enough as it is, and I have a soft spot places with character.

Even though I'm not eating fried food these days, I sure am going to miss it.

The National Anthem

I spend every night at Dodger Stadium hosting Dodger Talk on KABC radio. That means that every night I’m treated to a different version of the National Anthem. I think I speak for the hundreds of millions of Americans who attend sporting events each year when I say to the performers…

The National Anthem is not a five-minute blues number.

It is not a Mariah Carey overwrought teen power ballad complete with runs and riffs and “yeahs” inserted in the middle. Whitney did it. You will never top it. Don’t try.

The National Anthem is not a song that needs a “hook”. Or your own “personal signature”.

It is not a sultry torch song. Do not use it to impress the chicks. The Star Spangled Banner is not catnip for horny women.

It is not opera. If you need to wear a Viking helmet to get in the mood, rethink.

Nor is it the Grand Ole Opry. Does Yankee Stadium look like a barn dance to you?

Yo! The National Anthem is also not a hip-hop jam. Do not sample “Happy Together” in the middle of it. Do not shout out “Clap your hands, y’all!” when you’re near the end.

It is not meant to be whistled, beat boxed, played on spoons, washboards, ukuleles, kazoos, or sung in Klingon.

The Rat Pack is dead. So should be all versions of the Star Spangled Banner that swing. Francis Scott Key did not envision finger popping and nowhere is the word “kookoo” in the lyrics.

And speaking of the lyrics – LEARN THEM. It’s “perilous fight” not “perilous night”, not “perilous flight”, not “perilous twilights bursting in air”.

The song has an actual melody. Just come close to it…even occasionally. That’s all I ask.

And finally, stop Stop STOP STOP trying to hold the last few notes forever. You’re not stirring. You’re a car alarm that won’t turn off.

The National Anthem is arguably one of the hardest songs to perform. But done well it’s also one of the most powerful. Just sing the friggin’ song.

And let us get on to “play ball!”.

Take A Girl To See "Kung Fu Panda"

If Jack Black and Angelina Jolie are in the same movie, I'm automatically there. But I enjoyed "Kung Fu Panda" even more than I expected to. It's funny and well-written, and it's the most gorgeously animated Dreamworks movie yet. My kids loved it, but they also loved "Underdog." Their opinion doesn't count.

I admit to having a girl crush on Jolie (every straight woman has one), and I especially liked her character, Master Tigress. Tigress is one of the legendary Furious Five kung fu masters, and the most badass. She's fearless, intimidating and kind of a bitch. Black's character, Po, practically wilts under her orange-eyed Glare of Disapproval. She could snap his neck with one paw, and he knows it. Also on the team is the dainty but deadly Master Viper, voiced by Lucy Liu.

My daughter is at the age where she's stuck on the Princess Channel, so it's cool when she can see "girls" being strong and capable. When I get my monthly "Wonder Woman" comic, we often read it together.

She wants Master Tigress and Master Viper action figures. I wonder if Barbie is destined for a beatdown. All in good fun, of course.

Extras! Extras! Read all about them!

I should probably save this for Friday but a reader wanted to know if extras talked softly and if so is it distracting to the main cast?

The extras don’t talk. They just mouth conversations. The background hub bub is added later in post production. If they did talk it would be (a) distracting, (b) hard to match takes when we edit back and forth between takes, (c) they would have to be paid, and (d) God knows what bullshit they’d say.

On multi-camera shows extras are generally brought in the last day or two. The Second Assistant Director is in charge of placing them, telling them where to walk and when. Invariably when I was directing there would be a woman placed at a table with Marge Simpson hair that completely blocked out the stars. Or someone would be told to cross in front of a star just as he was delivering his punch line. Occasionally you find an extra looking at the camera.

I always picture an union meeting (they do have a union – SEG, Screen Extras Guild) where everyone is incensed, waving arms, pumping fists, and mouthing their passionate views.

Even though extras are not allowed to talk they are allowed – even encouraged to act. Or should I say, “react”? Cheer when someone makes a big announcement. Silently gasp in horror when someone spontaneously bursts into flames.

I remember an episode of the old SUPERMAN series. The bad guys wore full lead helmets (Superman can’t see through lead). There was a scene where two of them were walking down the hall in the Daily Planet building en route to a meeting with Perry White. Two extras entered from the other direction and didn’t even notice that there were two guys in suits and hats with LEAD HELMETS!!

I was directing an episode of ALMOST PERFECT that featured a giant pie fight scene (actually 800 custard tarts). We had our cast and sixty extras. For three days I choreographed and rehearsed the scene with rice cakes. Once cameras were rolling I knew I only had one take. (My inspiration was the great Laurel & Hardy pie fights.)

I was trying to work out a thousand things at once when this extra comes up and announces she would not like to be hit with any pies. Please place her accordingly. I said, if you don’t want to be in the pie fight then we’ll just replace you. No, no, she said in a very prim voice, she’d do it, but I was to instruct all the other extras to spare her specifically from any incoming pies? I said, I would see what I could do.

Okay, I know I’ll roast in hell for this but I did instruct the other extras. And when cameras rolled this girl got pelted with hundreds of pies. From all directions. Just bombarded. (It seems that she had managed to annoy all of them too.) I look back at that episode and the sight of her just getting blasted with pies makes me fall on the floor laughing every time. Like I said, I know there are not going to be any harps where I’m going.

Being an extra looks like an easy job but it’s not. There’s a lot of down time that can get real boring. The pay isn’t great. Job security is nil. There’s pie in your hair for weeks. In general it’s a very thankless job. The common name for extras in Hollywood is “background”. How many people in their college yearbook list “background” as their dream job of choice?

But they perform a very useful and important function. And I’m happy to speak on their behalf… since they themselves can’t without being paid day player rates.

A Writer's tragedy

From Technodirt.com comes this story that is the screenwriter’s version of the Darwin Awards. Apparently some guy wrote three screenplays (with the delightful titles of COLOR OF TULIP, BLOOD ON ICE, and – keeping with the theme – BLOOD ON SEVEN HILLS). He claims that at one point he was in negotiations to sell the screenplays for $2.7 million. But the talks went nowhere. So he ended up with nothing. Ohh??? There’s no middle ground between $2.7 and nothing?? But that’s not the point.

He later signed up for DSL and the technician installing it “cleaned up some unused items on his desktop” which included -- oh no! - the screenplays.

Oooops!

Data recovery was only partially successful in retrieving them. So the guy sued, claiming the screenplays were worth MILLIONS. He lost. And the jury felt he was also at fault FOR NOT MAKING A BACK UP OF SUCH “VALUABLE” FILES!

Ooooops!

I also question why the skeesix didn’t have a single printed copy. How did he submit them to these potential million dollar buyers? PDF files? And would perhaps one of the eager recipients bother to make a printed copy? These producers who had millions of dollars to just throw around couldn't afford a Xerox machine? Or send a guy down to Kinkos?

Always back up your scripts!!!

I do it every time I finish a writing session. I load it onto a thumb drive. I also have the nifty new Mac Time Capsule that backs up my hard drive constantly, and sometimes I email the working draft to myself just to be triple sure.

Nothing’s going to stop me from breaking the bank when I sell my latest screenplay -- BLOOD ON MAPQUEST DIRECTIONS TO PISMO BEACH.

Weekend leftovers

Thanks to everyone for your get well wishes to Kelsey Grammer. I have emailed them all directly to him.

It’s my brother’s birthday Sunday. My gift is coming. It just takes four to six weeks before your subscription to AARP magazine begins. Happy birthday, Corey.

Speaking of magazines, nifty profile on my daughter Annie in the current Northwestern alumni monthly. She’s featured as the “Funny Gal” in their “2008 Graduates to Watch” article. The humor she gets from her mother, the bad eyesight she gets from me.

They go in threes – Sydney Pollack, Bo Diddly, and Mel Ferrer.

The HuffingtonPost recently ran my SEX AND THE CITY piece and under related articles listed “date rape”. WTF?! I can’t even imagine Gloria Allred reading the article and thinking that.

Congratulations to the Detroit Red Wings for winning the NHL Stanley Cup last Wednesday. They begin defending their title tonight as the NHL 2008-2009 season begins.

Nice to have the Lakers-Celtics NBA Finals but it’s just not the same without broadcasters Chick Hearn and Johnny Most. Chick once said a player was so thin he could “shower in a rifle barrel”. And for Most, what Celtics fan will ever forget “Havilicek stole the ball!”?

It’s not just Hillary Clinton. Bill Belichick still refuses to concede the Superbowl.

When should a network cast only gorgeous-looking people? When they’ve got a show like SWINGTOWN.

Does anybody read blogs when they’re not at work?