Tag: tv

What does it matter,I still learned it

Before I got married I was at a cocktail party rubbing elbows with my fiance’s family. I was talking to a distinguished and clearly educated gent and the subject of the Korean Conflict somehow came up. Now, I did have a fair amount of knowledge on that because, like I said, I later educated myself. But there I stood, a pizza cook on the threshold of a potential conversational Armageddon. But I held in. Fortuitously, he came to an impasse in the discussion and was stuck on the parallel that the US military failed to cross, the one that would have been an act of war. I chimed in,
“That would be the 38th Parallel.” I was then complimented as being a smart young man. What he didn’t know is that I got that from the Rodney Dangerfield comedy Back to School.
I was reminded of that today as I was reading an excerpt from one of my favorite books, A Prayer for Owen Meaney. There is no shortage of reasons why I love the book, I have always been a sucker for a coming-of-age story and it’s a great one. The excerpt that caught my eye was dedicated to the birth of the all-time opiate of the masses, the Television (my apologies to Karl Marx), in which the narrator observes the progression of the power that the television eventually held in his home. He told of how his Grandmother, who was always staunchly opposed to TV finally caved, and how the grandson reluctantly fell under its spell as well. Our hero Owen Meaney, ever the virtuous one, chastised the Grandson for watching TV. At which time the Grandson defended it by offering how many ways that it was educational. Owen promptly dismissed this, his unsolicited opinion was that TV was a slovenly way to educate oneself.

I was amused and a little embarrassed when confronted with this. While I consider myself adequately educated, I have attained a fair amount of passable knowledge, some decent Trivial Pursuit-ish information as well as some solid nuggets of pop culture as well as high society through TV and movies.
Now, of course, TV was not educational in 1958, the time period in discussion. You watched what was available and a lot of it was garbage. It’s not a fair comparison to today’s Cable and streaming options that offer many educational options. Which I take advantage of. Despite even that… some of my greatest stories that deal with gaining “knowledge” through unlikely and slovenly sources occurred many years ago.

Most of my knowledge of Opera, Classical Music, American society during the Great Depression, Prohibition, wartime, etc., comes exclusively from Bugs Bunny cartoons. That’s right. “Kill the Wabbit” taught me about Opera.
In addition, most of my understanding of politics I can directly attribute to Berkeley Breathed and Gary Trudeau, of Bloom County and Doonesbury fame, respectively. As a skirt-chasing teenager (and young adult and well, forever) dedicated to doing the bare minimum, it was Bloom County and Doonesbury that piqued my interest in the news of the day as they lampooned politics and known as well as not-so-well-known cultural figures. Where else did I hear about the Anti-gay activism of Anita Bryant, the anti-feminist Phyllis Schlafly, the disappearance of known American atheist Madalyn Murray-O’Hair, the Televangelist scandals, the Contras and Sandanistas, the Star Wars antics of the Reagan era, I could go on but I won’t. Suffice it to say that otherwise boring (to me) subject matter and events were portrayed comically way or ironically and consequently raised my interest. An interest in being current and informed on the matters of the world, and in being able to take a humorous, even absurdist interpretation. In the case of Bloom County, the political landscape was portrayed often through Children and anthropomorphized naive but politically charged meadow animals. Think of a Hedgehog, a rabbit, and a Penguin having a caucus to nominate a dead cat for President.
That shit was funny!
And it had the right effect on me, it got me interested. Which fortunately led to a lot of self-education of the shit that I should have learned in High School.

Snob appeal, slob appeal. Whatever. Learning can come from many sources, highbrow and otherwise. What matters is that I learned something, and I received the added bonus of getting a good laugh in the process.

Slovenly” Perhaps. Effective? Absolutely.

Everyone matters

I watch too much TV. I know it. I’m not even proud of it. Sometimes, after a very challenging week I am mentally toast and I spend a good part of my first day off chillin’ in front of the idiot box. But I do try to watch something that stimulates me. I resist the temptation to watch the movies and shows that I’ve seen a gazillion times and instead try to watch something new or at least something with a takeaway. I’ve noticed that I find a takeaway in almost anything, so it works out for me. Takeaways are important to me; they serve as revelations, correlations, validations, and sometimes even epiphanies.
So imagine my joy today when I stumbled upon the show I’ve been seeking for a long while. Cold Case.

Cold Case is a truly unique show. Its primary theme is of solving old, or cold, cases. The show was done brilliantly and stylistically. It not only shows the forensic side of investigating crimes, not unlike the flashy CSI or Bones or documentaries such as Forensic Files, but it focuses on what I crave in a show. The humanity of it. Unsolved murder cases are depicted as old, open wounds that continuously inflict pain and heartache on those left without answers. On the flip side, it brings to the surface the secrets that burden those guilty or merely complicit, and of course it poignantly exhibits, on full display, the truly alarming capacity of man to commit horrible acts and then keep the secret for as long as necessary. The conclusion of the show always brings us satisfaction as the guilty are finally brought to justice. But the most emotional aspect of it is when we witness the closure for those who finally have answers to the unknowns that have haunted them.

Here’s the takeaway. It ties in directly with my fascination with the paranormal. Hauntings, to be precise. I am a believer in the spirit world. Not fully, but I am very open to it from the perspective that hauntings are manifestations of souls who are not at rest. I am open to the possibility that there are souls that are in limbo for some reason. I am receptive to the concept that souls linger in our realm due to, I’m just spitballing here, unresolved issues in their former life perhaps. Under that premise, isn’t it possible that a spirit in limbo is stuck until it achieves peace? Resolution? Even closure?

That is what is great about Cold Case. They do justice to the dead by always carrying with them the belief that every story should be told. Justice should always prevail. That nobody should ever be forgotten. And that everyone matters.

Stoned Studio, entry # 1

I mentioned a while back that I would be blogging about some of my favorite TV shows/movies and favorite actors in upcoming posts. I felt it was necessary to justify, if only to myself, what appeal television held when it was always at the bottom of my list of “productive” uses of my time.

Maybe it’s the sheer volume of weed that I have been smoking to bury the myriad health problems I have been experiencing, but in recent months I have been drawn to certain actors and shows/movies that fascinate me with their chameleon-like abilities as they tackle different roles and I even embrace reruns as a means to really absorb their performances. Weed is great for this, it allows one to really focus and, for lack of a better term, to get in the zone.

Today’s post stars no less than the inimitable Vincent D’Onofrio. Did Pyle from Full Metal Jacket come to mind?

If you haven’t seen D’Onofrio’s career turn as Private Pyle in this gritty Vietnam film, I won’t ruin it for you. Only to tell you that it is a must see. A overweight and highly impressionable young recruit joins the Marines and, due to the strains of basic training and the continued abuse at the hands of Drill Sergeant Hartman(the late great R. Lee Ermey) slides headlong and completely into Insanity. The end scene of the first of two parts is an ending I can’t in good conscience tell you. Let’s just say that you will never forget it. While starring in many memorable roles, Full Metal Jacket was Vincent’s first highly acclaimed role.

Early on, his resume consisted of some Broadway and bit parts. Despite his pending fame, he did notable work in supporting roles. Not the least of which was his role as Joe, the loveable lobster fisherman of 1988’s Mystic Pizza. While only a supporting role, I totally bought into his portrayal. The town of Mystic, CT is a real town but Julia Roberts and Annabeth Gish were not residents. Perhaps I related to the film because it bears a striking resemblance to Gloucester, MA, a seaport community close to my home town known for fish, struggling fishermen and class warfare. The hardscrabble working folk go about their lives while the much larger wealthy class go about theirs. Of course, in Mystic Pizza, there is a clash of cultures but our hero Joe is not engaged in it. Instead, he makes you believe in the working class hero who gets up early, drinks beer with his buddies and loves only one woman, he named his boat after her, with a passion. If you like the working man, D’onofrio delivers.

In 2000, D’Onofrio starred in what I think is one of the most visually stunning and remarkably innovative horror movies ever in The Cell. He portrays a very disturbed serial killer who enters a coma and Vince Vaughan and Jennifer Lopez actually enter his dreams to solve his latest abduction. This movie is a must see. Again, it is visually stunning, there just aren’t better words to describe it.

After being nominated for an Emmy for a guest role as a police officer on a now cancelled show, D’Onofrio was offered the role of Detective Goren on Law and Order, Criminal Intent. This was a role that would make him a watercooler name for almost a decade. Quirky, brilliant with a Columbo-esque way of appearing obtuse only to “oh-by-the-way-there-is-one-more-thing” his unsuspecting suspects. Without stating it, I always felt there was a suggestion of highly functional autism in his role. Detective Goren is highly well-read, educated and worldly, and cynical as the day is long. A student of Psychology such as myself can’t get enough of a character such as Goren. He always gets the bad guy and they spend their respective jail terms wondering how he figured them out. He never expresses pleasure or hubris when he solves a case, he just moves onto the next perp, with a perpetual sadness about him.

While I can’t possibly cover his entire filmography, I chose these roles because of course they are my favorites. I chose Vincent D’Onofrio for my first nod because these, and many other roles, have influenced me and stayed with me.

Isn’t that what a good actor does?

Stay tuned for more in my “Stoned Studio” series. LOL, I love that name I may have to use it!

The Tube

I mentioned in a previous post that I have been beating myself up for watching too much television. Today’s entry in the “give myself a frickin’ break” category consists of digging down a bit on my watching habits.

I mention this because I was getting really rough on myself for spending so much time in front of the TV. From a health standpoint yes, TV is bad because you are sitting on your ass for hours on end. Never a good thing. The last thing my body needs, with all of the healing that needs to be done, is inactivity. But it’s not all bad for the brain. I mostly watch documentaries, movies and shows that at least stimulate my mind a bit. Crime dramas mostly; Criminal Minds, Forensic files, Dateline, ID Discovery. I’m fascinated by the human condition, what people are capable of. Both good and bad. There are lessons to be learned from any meaningful story, even if it is a cautionary tale of what not to do and who not to be. In addition, when I’m stoned (I’ve been prone to more of that lately)I love to watch shows I’ve seen before because I notice integral details more and study the acting of my favorite characters closer. Often, I find myself more impressed with the writing or the acting. And sometimes I get critical.

When my brain is tired at the end of the day I watch silly but tried and true sitcoms reruns until bed. After all, I love to laugh.

Expect some posts on my favorite movies, TV shows, actors and characters. It should be fun, stimulate some discussion and give me something to blog about. Hey, at least it’s not politics, right?

If you haven’t noticed…I NEVER write about politics.

B Positive

I have to remind myself that it is just Network Television. It is not reality TV. It has to capture the viewers attention in a funny way, if you take into consideration that the modern viewer has the attention span of a Gnat. If the subject matter is too serious you also lose them. I personally see the show as a better Drama. But hey, what do I know? It’s just my opinion, but the new sitcom B Positive misses the mark in a big way. Again, just my opinion.

The show is about a therapist who finds out he needs a Kidney Transplant. He is a single Dad working through a recent separation from his wife. As luck would have it, he bumps into an old High School acquaintance at a wedding and somehow the subject of Kidney failure/transplant comes up and the ditzy girl throws it out there, “Hey, I can donate to you!”
By the end of the 2nd episode they have confirmed that she is willing, while showing more of what a mess her lifestyle really is but lo and behold, she is cleared to be a donor. The timetable escalates, as our hero “suddenly” starts dialysis.

I’ve tried to give it a chance. I really have. Multiple friends have asked me my thoughts on the show and I have tried to reserve judgment. I have to be nice knowing that most people really have no idea about the process, timetables and let’s face it, setbacks in the whole process.

To begin with, no-one “suddenly” finds that they need a transplant. Kidney disease is gradual and predictable. Any doctor can tell you after mapping the decrease in function that at a certain point you WILL need a transplant. It is not something that can sneak up on you. Renal failure is painful and it will affect every aspect of your life. The word I choose for it is Insidious. Over a long period of time you will experience an increasing level of complete garbage. You will feel washed out, which I liken to the day you start feeling flu symptoms and you know you are getting sick. But this feeling lasts for years. You can try to explain your symptoms to your friends, family, coworkers and your boss. They won’t understand. Nobody does. When your kids ask you to come play and all you can do is sit on the sofa with swollen legs and no energy it rips your heart out. This, and a million other normal functions in life that are compromised is where the Spectre of depression enters the picture. Approximately 87% of Renal patients suffer mild to serious depression. There is no medication other than hope for relief in the form of a transplant or a miracle. When you have End Stage Renal Disease (ESRD) a transplant and a miracle are one and the same.

The Dialysis segment of the show really, despite my efforts to be fair, annoyed me. In the second episode our hero, as I said earlier, “suddenly” starts dialysis. I’m sorry, you don’t just start dialysis. It is a last resort, akin to the fat lady singing for many people, myself included. By the time I was ready to start it I was as sick as I have ever been and I hated the whole idea of it. I always did, even before my first transplant when I pushed my luck enormously and avoided it. My Dr. scolded me as reckless and dangerous. How could I tell him that the lifestyle of dialysis appealed to me as much as eating a bullet?

So, our hero is sitting in a clinic with the recliners and machines, which they got right. The spacing of the chairs was a bit close but it is, after all, Television. But the room itself could not possibly get it more wrong. The seats are all full. The patients are all sitting up and awake. They look healthy other than having needles stuck in their arms. Ugh, so many misconceptions here. I will take them step by step:

There are always empty chairs in a clinic and you notice them immediately. I’ll be blunt, fellow patients at some point are forced to wonder if the missing patient is sick or dead. You don’t and won’t know, they can’t tell you. All you can do is hope for the best for them.
The chairs are almost always reclined. If you can’t get a nap during your session you are stuck with bad network TV or a book, which you can barely support with your left arm because of the 1 inch (yes, you read that correctly) needles in your arm that may, if you move, puncture your vein and you are done for the day if not the week. The vein is known as a fistula, a surgical vascular process that combines several veins in the arm to form a super port that enable the body to filter the blood in 4 hours. This surgery needs to be done 60 days before it is “mature” enough to use. It is very painful. If you start dialysis before they can do this surgery then you are given a port in your chest.
This is the worst scenario.
You can’t get it dirty so therefore you are not allowed baths or showers. The rest of your days with that port will be sponge bath only. Trust me, it sucks. Especially if it gets infected, despite your best efforts to keep it clean, and you end up with a staph infection. Mine caused Sepsis and I say this without exaggeration that I came millimeters from death 2 years ago because of it.
The patients in a dialysis center, with few exceptions, do not look like the patients on the show. The people in the show look as if they are going to spring out of their chairs once done. Not so in real life. We look sick. We look tired. Because we are. With rare exceptions, people get out of their chairs slowly and walk out slowly. We know that we are going to feel ok for about a day, if we’re lucky, and then we are back in that fucking chair.
The patients are all too cheery. Occasionally a comment gets tossed out that deals with the tribulations associated with a dialysis lifestyle to my satisfaction but not often. In general, people in dialysis centers are not very cheery. At age 55, I have a glimmer of hope of getting a transplant. Many patients do not and at a certain age are ruled out statistically. Their only hope would be a private donor. Many others have enough medical issues to disqualify them. These are the patients that know they will be on it until they die. Some take it into their own hands. Imagine being the nurse that hears a patient say “I can’t take the pain anymore”, to find the next morning that he ended his own life that night?

The donor. Ugh. As if the process was as simple as saying “Hey, you’re a match. It takes SO much longer to get approved as a donor and it is a complex process. While I will give them credit for including the segment about the potential donor being told to clean up her lifestyle. That is true. But there is tissue typing to do. MANY tests. Psychological examinations. They have to ensure that the donor isn’t being paid or coerced. Many do not pass all of them and it is a tremendous letdown as the patient. I say this with certainty, many people offer to be tested and many do NOT follow through. It is false hope at its finest and it is crushing the first time it happens, you begin to expect a letdown eventually.

This is dialysis. This is ESRD. To make a sitcom out of this subject is a grave mistake. This show could be an opportunity to raise awareness, and I hope it does. But I doubt it will. One thing a sitcom will never do is justice to such a depressing subject matter. Laugh tracks won’t make the pain go away and unreasonable depictions do the subject matter irreparable harm.

Sorry, there’s just nothing funny about it.

Fuhgeddaboutit

I once worked with a guy that claimed he was “Connected.” I said “What, like Cable?” He said no, the Mafia. I told him he was full of shit. Anyone who was connected would never brag about it to a guy like me. He thought I was a rube. Anything but, I’ve seen as many if not more Mafia movies and shows than anyone should have the right to. The mob. Mafia. Gangsters. Wiseguys. Goodfellas. Made Guys. Whatever the name, I can’t get enough and I know my shit, so to speak.

As a law-abiding citizen with no interest in changing that anytime soon, I have an unhealthy fascination with organized crime. The Godfather 1 and 2 (not 3) Goodfellas, Donnie Brasco, Once Upon a Time in America, The Soprano’s, the list goes on forever. I can watch them over and over again.
And I have.
And will continue to do so.

What is it about the Gangster that captures our fascination? For me, I suppose it starts with the history. In this country, and in NY in particular the Mafia, or La Casa Nostra was integral in protecting Italian immigrants and their fledgling families as they established themselves in this country. “Protection” cost them a fee but if someone crossed them there was someone to act on their behalf. Failure to pay for that protection of course cost them more than money, disrespect equaled swift old-school justice. Police, judges, and non-Italians largely looked the other way. It was common folklore that if you didn’t cross or disrespect the Mafia they would never bother you. But if you were asked a favor, you were wise to grant it. The words tossed around were honor, tradition, respect. Call it what it is, it’s fear based on power.

For generations Americans have looked the other way and tolerated the presence of “the Mob” in American society. I suppose there are several reasons for this. If you were a small Italian business owner in 1900’s New York you may have welcomed the link to the “Old country” and the protection. Another reason would be that many of our lives were unaffected by it; if you didn’t engage in activities that they were involved in then it didn’t matter. Maybe it was just accepted, it’s always been there. I for one don’t gamble in illegal casinos, frequent prostitutes or even live in areas where there is a presence. With the exception of a stray bullet striking a innocent civilian during a “hit”, we look the other way.

Despite the capacity to be vicious, even sociopathic criminals there is such a aura about them. I would never go so far as to say that they are role models. But there sure is a fascination with their lifestyle that has led to so many movies and shows.

Maybe it’s the suits. Those guys sure dress nice. Maybe it’s the wad of 100’s in their pockets, freely being tucked in the breast pocket of every doorman of every nightclub. People scrambling to accommodate them as if they were visiting royalty. Maybe it’s the prestige of being “known” in the neighborhood. Maybe it’s the ability to do whatever they wanted virtually unfettered. Maybe it’s the whole “respect” thing (it’s really fear). People know your name and your “affiliations” or connections and they don’t dare cross you. Swagger, prestige and respect.

That is until a bullet finds the back of your head.

“In this business you go in alive and you come out dead. And it’s always your best friend that does it. ” Lefty, Donnie Brasco

Donnie Brasco is one of the best movies or shows to present mob life for all of it’s ups and downs. I marvel at its ability of to actually create a sympathetic character. One that we relate to, like and even mourn when they die. Lefty was a tragic character. I enjoyed Tony Soprano, despite some despicable behavior, in all of his neuroses. I got a kick out of Henry Hill of Goodfellas because, at least for a while, he lived like a king and in the end lived to tell of all of his debauchery. Lefty, on the other hand was a sympathetic character and despite not being the first film project to be dedicated to the down side of the life; that is to say that it isn’t always glamorous or prestigious, that it can be thrust upon you and once in you can’t get out. Not without rolling over on your buddies and going into witness protection. Or getting that bullet in the back of the head.

“Hey Mac, have you seen ________? It’s about the mob.”
“Have I seen it? Have I seen it? Fuhgeddaboutit!”