Monday, July 14, 2008

To Bratz, Or Not To Bratz?


My youngest kid is turning four next week, and most of her requests are pretty reasonable: some Polly Pockets claptrap, Moon Sand, a Princess Belle costume. But for the second year in a row, she's asking for a Bratz doll. And for the second year in a row, my knee-jerk answer was "No."

Not that Barbie is inspiring little girls to become astrophysicists, but Bratz dolls have a jailbait aura that has always creeped me out. However, a friend of mine told me that her daughter (who's a little older) owns some of the Bratz Kidz dolls, and you know what? They're kind of cute. The one pictured here, Sasha, is adorable with her little curly puff, and she appears to be fully clothed.

I asked C. last night why she liked Bratz, and she said, "Because they're beautiful and sparkly."

I get that. Little girls like spangled, slightly tacky playthings, and I was no different. I owned a disco-era Superstar Barbie with a red feather boa.

Sure, Sasha here looks like a MAC counter drag queen got ahold of her, but I think I could live with it. If C. gets it, it'll be a nice surprise. If she doesn't, it's not like she'll know I was considering it.

What do you think?

Sunday, July 13, 2008

The new iPhone hates U

Apple Computer, Inc. is misogynistic!

This is the claim of Erica Watson-Currie, a consultant and lecturer of some renown (I guess) who maintains that it’s hard to operate the new iPhone if you have long fingernails. She says, “Considering ergonomics and user studies indicating men and women use their fingers and nails differently, why does Apple persist in this misogyny?”

She wants Apple to go back to a stylus so women with long nails can use the keyboard. Um, isn’t one of the beauties of the iPhone the fact that you don’t need a stylus?

Somehow I can’t imagine the Apple design engineers all getting together and saying, “Women won’t date us for some completely unknown reason. What can we do to get back at them?”

Are contact lens manufacturers also misogynists?

And guitar makers?

How about the folks who make single-ply toilet paper?

And the ones who made rotary phones? Those couldn’t have been easy to dial with Vampira nails, even the “princess” models.

This goes back to my rant on political correctness. Why do we have to take everything so personal? It’s a friggin’ cellphone with a bunch of extras! It’s not a statement. It’s not the revenge of the nerds.

Seems to me you could touch the screen with the side of your finger, or the pad of your finger, or your thumb, or new nose? Or, just not buy one.

Now the people who make that Ikea furniture you have to construct yourself...that’s a different story. Those man-haters ought to be SHOT!!!!

Potty Mouth

While I make jokes about my kids being little demons, they're generally polite and respectful. More than once, people have commented on how polite and articulate they are. They have their moments.

For the most part, I think my husband and I have modeled good behavior. We're not the Waltons, but we don't drop f-bombs willy-nilly when they're within earshot. Usually.

After years of working in newsrooms with colorful journalists, &%$* became my word of choice when computers crashed, stories broke at 6 p.m. on a Friday, or other deeply unpleasant things occurred. Even now, it slips out when whole cartons of juice spill or I realize, halfway to the office, that I've left my laptop at home.

Anyway, we were at Borders today when my daughter announced she was ready to head to the children's section. I was in the middle of browsing and told her to wait. That's when I heard her sigh and mutter &%$* under her breath. This wasn't an innocent mimic routine. Her delivery was so perfectly world-weary that the twentysomething hipster to our right turned and raised an eyebrow. It's one thing to hear your kid repeat something sketchy, but quite another to hear them do so with style.

Of course, I was mortified and delivered a stern "don't say that again" talking-to before beating a path to the "new in paperback" table.

This happened with my son when he was about 5, but it was much, much worse. He showed off his new vocabulary word in front of my mother, who, despite having cursed liberally when I was growing up, was shocked.

Thanks, kids. Way to sell Mom out.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

What I learned on my first musical

Cast of the 60s PROJECT: Michael Gillis, Andrew Rannells, Megan Lewis, Maggie Benjamin, and Rodrick Covington.
It's the summer stock time of year! Having spent a recent summer in Connecticut where the musical I co-wrote (the 60s PROJECT) went into production at the Goodspeed Theatre, I learned quite a bit about the process. For those of you hitting the boards somewhere in our nation's heartland, here are a few things you might want to know.

The director must encourage everyone to share ideas. He must then discard 80% of them, especially the ones from the prop guy who's taken the liberty of writing new songs.

You need six weeks to rehearse a musical. But if you have six weeks, you'll need eight.

If the choreographer had her way, seven of the eight hours of rehearsal everyday would be devoted to the dance numbers. If the music director had his way, those same seven hours would be devoted to teaching and practicing the music. If the book writer had his way, scene work would fill the day. And if the director had his way it would be a one woman show with Bernadette Peters who could do it all in five hours.

One change, no matter how small, is like pulling a string in Penelope's Tapestry. It effects everything. If the music director adds a bar in a song, the choreographer will want to reblock the entire dance number. If the book writer changes one line it effects the underscoring, next cue, choreography, lighting, sound, background visuals, upcoming costume change, transition into the next scene, and future of the American musical theatre. So it better be a good new line.

If there's a fight scene or even fight moment there has to be a daily fight rehearsal before a performance. For West Side Story you can rehearse without the knives.

Wireless mics that stick out of cast members foreheads produce better sound and are not noticeable and distracting beyond the fiftieth row.

The cast elects an Equity Deputy whose job it is to snitch behind the director's back if an Equity rule is broken. Rules include looking at an actor with an expression that might hurt his feelings.

To learn even one dance number I would need to practice eight hours a day for six months at which time maybe I could do the whole thing without elbowing someone in the face. These kids get it down in six minutes.

You need a good drummer. A real good drummer.

See a night time performance rather than a matinee.

Actors need to yell out their dialogue. Not just speak loud, but YELL. Even if the line is "Pssst, let me tell you a secret." Only Renee Taylor can talk in her regular speaking voice.

When your wife or girlfriend needs forty-five minutes to change her clothes, just know it can be done in as little as ten seconds.

Every performer comes from a dysfunctional family but thanks them profusely in their Playbill bio.

Most people pad their Playbill bios, listing every credit since they played a kitty in grammar school. So my favorite Playbill bio remains: Jerry Belson, who wrote the 1975 movie SMILE that got turned into a musical, submitted only this -- "SMILE fulfills a lifetime dream for Mr. Belson, to get paid twice for the same script."

During performances there are nine people walking around with headsets. No one knows who they are or what they're doing.

A good running time, including a fifteen minute intermission is 2:20.

The song you loved the most before going into rehearsal is the song you need to cut.

No two people have the same script. Everyone is on stage working off different drafts.

The Teamsters are pansies compared to the Equity Union.

Actors will tell you: it's hard to be sung to. And offstage it's even harder.

When you're in the orchestra section, don't think the cast can't see you. If you're going to be Pee Wee Herman you're going to have an audience.

It's always better to say it in a song rather than dialogue. But those few lines of dialogue can galvanize the entire story.

Since there is limited rehearsal time once a show opens, it can take up to a week to put in some changes. You have to prioritize fixes, based on how needed they are and how long they will take to implement. What that means is you take notes every night and they're always the same notes.

Casting decisions are still the most important. Everything else can be fixed. Except if you want to do C-SPAN: The Musical, that idea might kill it.

Actors are not allowed to talk to conductors. There's a very strict chain of command. Book writers are not allowed to talk to anybody.

The guard at every stage door is named "Pops".

When it works, a musical can be more than entertaining, it can be thrilling. There is an electricity, a magic that is so powerful it transcends whatever's happening on stage. Yes, it's a tall order and rarely achieved but that's the goal. And if you don't hang yourself in a hotel room in New Haven it can be quite exciting.

Is This A Joke?


Frozone? Pootie Tang? %#@ing Hong Kong Phooey?!

These are some of the names populating AOL's recent listing of the 25 Greatest Black Superheroes of All Time. The obvious choices are there (John Stewart/Green Lantern, Mr. Terrific, Storm), but no way does the Brown Hornet from "Fat Albert" belong alongside John Henry Steel. This list is suckage.

I know there aren't many well-known black superheroes in mainstream comics, but there is a serious failure of imagination here. For starters, the writer might have checked out the fantastic Museum of Black Superheroes, the most comprehensive listing I've encountered. I mean, I'm not that interested in Vixen, but she's surely more worthy than a canine kung-fu expert voiced by Scatman Crothers. Yet, she's nowhere on the list. Neither is Steel 2.0, or War Machine, or ... you see where I'm going with this.

AOL, you disappoint me.

Not That Curious

So my 3-year-old was all hopped to see Curious George at Fun Station, where WFSU/PBS Kids were holding a meet-and-greet on Saturday. Her 8-year-old brother was in it for the video games, because he was convinced that once we were inside, he could con us into spending our life savings on tokens.

We knew we were in trouble when we saw parents walking to Fun Station from across the street. Then weI saw the line of wilted parents and kids stretching out the door and onto the sidewalk. Saturday was hot, muggy and miserable, and we were told it'd be a 40-minute wait to see Curious George (likely a suffering 20-year-old in costume) -- half of it outside. We skipped the photo op and headed straight indoors for the crafts table, where dozens of kids were jockeying for markers and crayons to decorate their construction paper Big Yellow Hats. We didn't stay long.

Daughter wailed miserably once she learned she would NOT get a chance to tell George she was a fan of his work, etc. Alas, hers was but one voice in a sea of whimpering children. I felt bad, but I wasn't about to stand in line that long -- while snaking through the blinking, pinging madness of Fun Station -- to see someone in a monkey suit. You'd have thought people were in line for Jonas Brothers tickets. Either the parents who stayed have far more stamina than I do, or George was handing out martinis at the finish line.

Oh, well. I'm a bigger fan of George's dachshund pal Hundley anyway.

Friday, July 11, 2008

CHEERS gag reel

When you're on a series, one of the highlights of the wrap party is the gag reel. Kudos to all the editors who save the out-takes and put these together. Here's one from CHEERS from the second season. A tradition on CHEERS and many other shows is to end with a montage of all the guest actors who appeared throughout the season. To fully enjoy this gag reel you must be like we were at the time -- drunk on our asses. So grab four beers and come along.