Yes! Another reader! My span of influence now extends to ... well, probably about five people, if you count the Babies! (Who don't actually listen.)

Remember when I said I wanted to start a thing, and the thing I wanted to start was getting people to use the phrase "Put A Ring On It" in everyday life to describe things they like?

Sure you do -- it was right here.

Well, bow before me, global population, because my influence is felt far and wide. Check out this post from Filmdrunk:

The one who calls himself Punchface Thunderdog (who previously made the George Washington vs. Zombies picture that you’ve probably seen on FilmDrunk a few times) made this photoshop out of the Brothers poster, and I liked it so much I put a ring on it. Look how much concentration is going on in this picture now. I’m wilting from the pensiveness. Don’t try this at home.

That's right. I did that. Up top! Anybody? Don't leave me hanging.


Who else reads this blog? Check it out by clicking here. And you read it! You do!

Back next week

Life intrudes again: I won't be blogging this week until probably Friday or maybe Saturday, depending on how things go (I've got another one of those trials. It's really annoying how my boss expects me to work for my pay). While I'm off suing people, why not check out the archives on this site, or look at one of my other sites:


Thinking The Lions: It's life, only funnier - -my life, to be exact. With memories of trips to DC and my honeymoon mixed in with stories about all the jobs I've had, plus my destructive twins and a lot of music.



AfterDark: The scariest stories you'll find anywhere. Serialized short horror stories. Two completed stories right now: What You Need: Taylor has what people need... and that's too bad for him, and "The Grave-Robbers" -- New Sam learns a lot about his family when he turns 12, including why there are so many bodies buried below the house. Plus, The End of Light just started. Will Joe The Magician destroy the world?

"5 Pages." Read a novel the way I write it: 5 pages at a time. In Up So Floating Many Bells Down, you'll meet Sarah, whose fiance drowned the night of her bachelor party -- sending her off to join a group of people trying to prove that there's a serial killer at work. Meanwhile, her brother Dylan leaves town after the tragedy, setting up shop as a writer/photographer in Las Vegas. But he comes back over Thanksgiving one last time before heading to New York... without either of his fiancees.

Lesbian Zombies Are Taking Over The World: 2 weeks ago, Rachel woke up and realized that she didn't know who or what she was. On the advice of her octopus, she headed south, where she met Brigitte. Just as they fell in love, though, Rachel was kidnapped and dragged off an adventure through the 73 dimensions. It's the world's only sci-fi/horror/fantasy/erotic/serial novel!

Are you a frustrated writer? Me, too -- kind of. But I'm less frustrated since I began talking about writing, and getting published -- or, rather, not getting published -- on AAAAAUGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Or: Why is it so hard to get an agent, get published, get rich, and move to Hawaii?) You'll find posts on my efforts to get published, plus how I come up with ideas, plus a lot of fun thoughts about writing.

And, because sometimes I get goaded into it by the need to make a living, I also write about the law on Family and Consumer Law: The Blog. If you have a family, or spend money -- or know someone who does -- this blog is for you.

I pay attention to Sweetie. Honestly, I do. Mostly. What'd you say? (The Best Parts Of Songs, 2)

I mentioned to Sweetie the other day that I was going to, for my "MiniBest" theme this month, do The Best Parts Of Songs, and she said "Like the piano in November Rain?"

So I said: "Um. What?"

She said: "That's my favorite part of that song. The piano part."

I agreed with her and we talked about it a little more, which songs I liked and which songs she liked, and then I said to her: "I'll put yours on the blog, too. I've just got to remember: the guitar in November Rain."

"No," Sweetie said. "The piano part. Piano part."

So, here's a rare Sweetie nomination for a Best:

The Best Part of November Rain, the Guitar part Piano part!






Other Best Parts Of Songs:

I Don't Care, from "No More Kings."

Click here to see all the MiniBests Ever!

This is the kind of good stuff I do for you. Because I'm like a saint, only more bloggy and less holy.

Today, I will make you healthier and richer. Well, I'll tell you how to do that. But you've got to do the work. Luckily, it's not a lot of work. So you'll be able to do it. And once you're healthier and richer, you can then send me all the extra money you have -- since you'll be rich, you'll probably have lots of money just lying around, and I can have that, right?

And some of the health. Send me some of that, too.

Here's how to get healthier: Drink Blu Frog Energy Drink. If you're like me, you've always got something nearby to drink. And if you're like me, that something is probably a giant cup of coffee or a soda of some sort (or perhaps a gross mixture of both that you didn't realize you had in your cup because you didn't know that your 2-year-old poured them together.)

There's nothing healthy about coffee or soda, I know. But there's plenty healthy about BluFrog: No artificial colors or flavors, made with real fruit, and with about 1/2 the calories of other major energy drinks -- but the same (or better energy boosting ingredients.) Plus, way way less sugar than other energy drinks.

So if you switch your energy drink, or coffee, or soda, or weird amalgam of those, over to Blu Frog, you're going to be healthier, because you're reducing processed and artificial junk and increasing... all the stuff that's the opposite of that.

Then, for the richer part: Since you're now a Blu Frog devotee, go enter the BluFrog contest they're running. It's simple to enter -- all you have to do is comment on one of their blog pages, or post about the contest and Blu Frog on Twitter or your own blog -- and by doing that you can win a gaming package, or trips to places you'd love to visit, or even a racing experience.

You can enter up to three times per person -- I've already hit my limit, so I'm going to have to create a second identity to keep going (that won't take long) -- so get entering now.

And remember: I get all your extra money. And health.

It's best if you do it with ALMOST a British accent (The Best Parts Of Songs, 1)

It's a Minibest!

Did you ever stop, when listening to a song, and think about what it is you really like about that song?

Okay, so you didn't. But I do, all the time. (It spares me from having to think about important things, like stopping the Babies! from climbing up on the kitchen table without their pants on, and then it distracts me from thinking about things I'd rather not think about, like what I'm going to tell Sweetie about how we got tiny butt prints on the kitchen table.)

I think about parts of songs that stick out, the parts of songs that make a good song better and make an okay song a good song.

Sometimes those parts of songs are important enough that they could, I imagine, help bring the world together in peace and harmony.

Other times, they're just the cool part of a song that I like .

So for July, my MiniBests are going to feature as many of The Best Parts Of Songs as I have time to write about, beginning with number one: The "I Don't Care" from "No More Kings," by Schoolhouse Rock:




This song is what gave me the idea to begin talking about The Best Parts Of Songs as I was driving home from work one day listening to it. I was singing along with it ("anything you say king it's okay king") and got to the part where the singer imitates King George:


"But when the colonies complained, the king said, "I... don't... care."

(It's at 1:50 or so)

and what made that so great, for me, was how the singer imitates the king, kind of, doing a bit of the king's voice. That's the part that just puts that song up over the top. That's showmanship. You don't see that anymore. It used to be that singers really put their hearts into things -- they bit the heads off of bats or smashed guitars or mimicked King George's voice. These young stars today, they don't do that.

Plus, if you're singing along with that song, and you do the King George voice, the guy in the next car will probably give you the same look I got when I did that at stoplight.

I have the butt of a Parisian supermodel.

I've never been comfortable in a suit and tie. Even now, 11 years into my law career and wearing a suit and tie most days, I've never settled into them. At heart, I'm a jeans guy.

Which is not to say I'm a cheap jeans guy. I don't want to wear some cut-rate, ill-fitting, uncomfortable, crummy jeans that I bought at the dollar store on clearance. No, I've gone that route and it's no fun. Nor do I want to overpay for jeans just because they've got some kind of designer label on them.

So to get jeans that I like, quality, classy jeans, at a price that I can agree to pay, I go to the Armani Exchange, a site that offers what they call "accessible Armani" and what I call "good jeans that happen to have a label on them but are still affordable. Jeans like the "hand sanded straight leg" jeans they've got for sale online, or the other ones I like, the "light urban destruction boot cut." I like my jeans to have a cool, tough feel to them -- and "urban destruction" seems to match that.

Or the "bleach destruction boot cut," which I tried and liked after the kids told me that "boot cut" is where it's at these days. I didn't get it -- I don't wear boots, I said, and they laughed -- but I ordered them and I like them.

With me, it's not the label at all. I mean, yes, people are very impressed when they see my butt in Armani jeans, but I like to think they'd be impressed by my butt in whatever jeans I have on. That's not the big point with me, like I said. The big point is: are they comfortable? Are they durable? Are they easy to wear and easy to clean and hold up well?

And these jeans do. Plus, you know, they're Armani jeans. So maybe I don't wear an Armani suit, but I've got Armani jeans, and that still makes me like a Parisian supermodel. The kind of parisian supermodel that eats a lot of bite-sized Snickers' bars while listening to Spongebob CDs, maybe, but a Parisian supermodel nonetheless.

The Armani Exchange site has more than jeans, too -- they've got all kinds of Armani clothes, all inspired by street-chic, and fashionable music and clothes that give an emphasis on personal style and on freedom. They're all from Armani, but they're not all stuffy and old-school like Armani used to be.

And they're serious about that youthful, freedom stuff -- not only do they sell more than jeans (including music, jewelry, eyewear and other accessories) but you can follow them on Twitter (@ArmaniExchange) and they've got a blog about this stuff -- the A|X Blog -- if you want to really keep up.

You can even enter their "text A|X contest," and win one of the jeans they're giving away every day in the month of July. All you have to do is text the keyword "DENIM2" to Armani (that's 276264) and you'll have a chance to win. (For more information on that, click here.)

So, you know, that's cool and all. But it's the jeans that got me, and the jeans that kept me. Check those out, first.

And also, keep your eyes off my butt. That's for Sweetie only.

The Next Best Way To Become Famous (And The Best Celebrities To Try This On.)

I, like most people, am looking to become famous, and I'm always searching for a good way to do that.

I could go the hard way -- have talent, work my way up the entertainment ladder, get a few lucky breaks on the way, and then one day, stand astride the entertainment industry, a titan of modern pop culture who everyone will look at and adore and love and ask for autographs. (Everyone, that is, except me; I either do not know who celebrities are or I will remember them for some obscure show they did, once, that only I liked.)(Or I'll kind of insult them, but more on that in a minute.)

I could go that route, but that all takes a lot of hard work and time and luck and possibly also sleeping with producers, which even if I was okay with that, I'm pretty sure Sweetie is not. (For the record, I am not okay with sleeping with producers to get ahead. I'm just saying that even if I was, which I'm not, Sweetie would likely not be okay with that.)

So there's got to be another way to become famous. And rich. Those two go hand-in-hand, don't they? They do nowadays, anyway. If you're famous, you'll become rich, just as certainly as if there is leftover pizza in my refrigerator at night, it will be gone by the time I get up in the morning and The Boy's room will smell like pizza. Pizza which should have been mine. Riches follow fame like that.

So I need to get famous, after which I'll be rich, and since the whole actual talent, etc., route is too hard (and possibly Sweetie-disapproved), there's got to be another way to achieve fame and then riches (although I'm not averse to doing it the other way around. I'll take money and then fame.) (Matter of fact, I'll just take the money. You can have the fame.)(Except I need the fame to get the money, probably, so hands off my fame.)

Reality shows are out. Nobody has ever become rich or famous as a result of a reality show, if you don't count Lauren Conrad making $75,000 per episode and becoming a published author (writing a book that should, by all rights, have been titled "This is Officially The Day Literature Was Killed") and if you don't count all the other Hills spinoff characters and if you don't count Nick Lachey, and if you don't count Kate (she's a one-name person now, right? Sorry, all you other Kates, there's just the one Kate now), and if you don't count Susan Boyle, who reportedly is making 8,000 "pounds" per minute to sing. (In real money, that's... I don't know, but it's enough to buy a lot of cat food for her cat, Pebbles.)

Aside from those people, nobody is making money off reality TV or becoming famous, so reality TV is out as a career. Besides, becoming famous on reality TV might also make me have to be married to Kate, or be vacuous, idiotic and docile, or do other things that I'm not prepared to do, like spend time with Will Ferrell in the wilderness.

And, also, each of those takes time, too, and I would kind of like my fame (and money) now.

Which is why I've hit on a third route, and one I am uniquely qualified to use as a springboard or catapult into the Fame-And-Money-OSphere.

No, not a sex tape.

Not that I've ruled that out... but... no, actually, I have ruled it out.

My method is both quicker than having talent and less painful (for me) than reality TV and less painful (for you) than a sex tape.

My method is this: Bump into a celebrity and turn that embarrassing encounter into fame -- and then money.

Think about it. It's genius. We are so celebrity-obsessed these days that we make annoying people into celebrities just to bring them back down to our level, and at the same time, we take people who have only the most tangential connection to fame and jump them up to celebrity status, if only for a short while. (Then we bring them back down again.)

That celebrity obsession, combined with our on-again/off-again love of hidden-camera type shows that embarrass people -- witness the popularity (?) of the Bruno movie, which is essentially just a bunch of Borat outtakes only now with a different offensive stereotype -- paves the way for what I predict will be the next wave of fame: People Who Bump Into Celebrities And Embarrass Themselves and the Celebrity And Then Turn That Into Fame.

The groundwork is already there for this type of fame -- people are already obsessed with the once-famous or non-famous, and they're becoming obsessed with the people who bump into the non-famous and once-famous -- as evidenced by the coverage of Woody Harrelson's zombie-encounter, or by Samantha Ronson's career, period.

What's missing is people turning this new kind of fame into money. The Zombie Cameraman, for example, filed a police complaint, and will probably sue, but police complaints and suing don't turn into money, not any time soon. (And suing Woody Harrelson? What'll that get you, besides some coupons for Taco Bell printed on his homemade hemp paper?)

That's where I come in. I have a long history both of embarrassing myself in front of celebrities, and of novel ideas for making money, and I'm combining them now so that I can show you how I can make money just by bumping into famous people. (Feel free to use my methods, but make sure that you let me become famous, first.)

My expertise in this area arises from several celebrity encounters I've already had:

-- I met Harry Connick, Jr., once, at my health club, and asked him for his autograph. I knew he was in town for a concert, and while I was a fan, I wasn't enough of a fan to go see him in concert. Still, I wanted his autograph. So, I asked him for his autograph and only then realized I didn't have a pen. Or paper. Then, to compound things, I tried to cover up my faux pas by saying "I'm looking forward to seeing your concert tonight." Only later did I learn that he'd played the night before.

-- I met Brian Ritchie, the bassist for one of my favorite bands ever, the Violent Femmes. I even bought him a beer, and then asked him when the band was coming out with a new album, as it had been a while. "Soon," he said. "These things take time. Those songs aren't easy to write."

"Really?" I said, incredulously.

In my defense, their songs did sound pretty easy to write. Also, I was kind of drunk.

-- Finally, I once met University of Wisconsin basketball coach Bo Ryan, who is probably only a "celebrity" in Madison, Wisconsin, (but I'll count him because how many celebrities do you actually meet?)( Answer: 5 ), and asked him for his autograph -- doing so while wearing a "North Carolina" t-shirt, which wouldn't have been so bad except that the UW had just lost to North Carolina in the NCAA Tournament. ("You've got a lot of nerve," he told me -- but he signed. Score!)

With that kind of background, I figure I can easily bump into and embarrass celebrities, and myself -- and the culture is right to turn that fleeting contact into fame and/or money. Here's how I'll do it with these test subjects in movies, television, literature, and rock'and'roll.

Movie Celebrity: Billy Bob Thornton.

Why He's A Good One To Choose: Billy Bob hasn't had a hit movie since... does Armageddon count? Or Bad Santa? Which came first, anyway? It doesn't really matter, since neither of those were made this century. Were they?

Where I'd Likely Bump Into Him: Leaving a run-down radio station somewhere in Nebraska or a similar Godforsaken locale, as he tries to promote his "band" on the only radio shows that will listen to him.

How I'd Try To Embarrass Him: The easiest route? Mention to him that you loved his acting. It worked for that DJ, who just didn't have the guts to push it far enough that he could make some fame/money off of it. I'd try this: Say he's a better actor than singer... but that even so, he still wasn't as good as Walter Matthau in that one movie.

How I'd Actually Embarrass Myself: In mentioning Walter Matthau, I would be thinking of Jack Lemmon in The Odd Couple. And I would assume I was talking to Joaquin Phoenix.

The Likely Result: Billy Bob punches me, then writes a song about the experience. I collect royalties for use of my name in the song and go on to host "American Top 40" once Ryan Seacrest returns to his home dimension after someone says his name backwards.


Television Celebrity: Charlie Sheen.

Why He'd Be A Good One To Choose: Charlie Sheen just emanates fame. He must produce it biologically or something. He certainly hasn't done anything worth us keeping our eyes on him, unless you count making out with that big-nosed girl before she was a small-nosed girl, in Ferris Bueller's Day Off -- a role that was the pinnacle of his career. Sure, he's been in Platoon and... um... other movies that I'm sure I'd remember if I wasn't too lazy to google them, but can playing... um... that one guy in Platoon, and probably other characters, be deserving of something like 3 decades of fame? No way. And yet, there he is, still being famous and still on TV and still being rich, and also looking pretty young, too.

So it's either deal with the Devil (which in Charlie Sheen's case is actually somewhat likely) or he's like a fame factory and my bumping into him and embarrassing him and me could only result in my becoming famous (and rich), just like Denise Richards did, only I don't have to have sex with Charlie. Hopefully. (Fingers crossed.)

Where I'd Likely Bump Into Him: It would have to be LA, wouldn't it? Charlie Sheen seems like the kind of guy who hasn't left LA since he got there. Except maybe to go to Las Vegas. But running into him in Vegas would mean going to those high class strip joints, and Sweetie's not likely to approve of that, either. So LA it is: he's got to go to the grocery store, or liquor store, sometime, right?

How I'd Try To Embarrass Him: I've got this all planned out. I'd go up to him and say "You're Emilio Estevez, right?" And he'd say "No, I'm Charlie Sheen," and I'd say, "Oh, yeah, that's right. Hey, you were great in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. What have you been doing since then?"

How I'd Actually Embarrass Myself: It would, in fact, be Emilio Estevez that I'd be talking to.

The Likely Result: Assuming Emilio admits it's him, then I star in The Mighty Ducks Return: Electric Duckaloo. If he sticks with pretending he's Charlie, then in mere minutes we are in a pitch meeting for Ferris Bueller's Next Day Off.

(Note: I've already got the plot worked out. Here's what happens: Ferris is now all grown up, and he's got a son. [See the irony already? Sweet.] The son wants desperately to get into an Ivy League school and sets up an interview with the dean, one his Dad -- Grown-Up Ferris-- is to attend. But on the day in question, Grown-Up Ferris decides to take his son and show him the benefits of just slacking off, and drives away from the interview, determined to make his son have fun instead of taking life so seriously. Then Junior Ferris has to spend the day trying to trick his dad into the interview, while Senior Ferris is trying to trick his son into having a good time. In the end, they attend the interview as scheduled, and both learn a valuable lesson.) Bonus: The interviewer turns out to be Charlie Sheen's character from the first movie. This thing will write itself.

Literature Celebrity:
Um...let me think... Are there any celebrity writers? You're right. There's not. Nobody reads anymore. And I can prove it: I have it on good authority that John Grisham's last book was simply a reprint of the first chapter from The Firm with the main character's name changed to Rex Nordner, followed by 350 blank pages. (Note: It was optioned into a movie the moment it hit the stands.)

Let's move on...


Rock and Roll Celebrity: Sting.

Why He'd Be A Good One To Choose: Sting needs money. He's tried everything since The Police ended -- he tried being a poet and an earnest musician and being an actor and even tried being mentioned on Friends, but nothing worked out, resulting in Sting biting the bullet and reforming The Police for an ill-advised, and even iller-received, reunion tour that for all I know might still be going on.

Where I'd Likely Bump Into Him: Assuming that tour is still going on, then I'll find him at the Retro Lounge of the Holiday Inn on I-94 outside of Milwaukee. The Police will be opening for a Vic Damone impersonator.

If it's not still going on, then he'll probably be working at a sub sandwich shop in Leeds.

How I'd Try To Embarrass Him: Order a sandwich. Say, "Hey, didn't you used to be Sting?"

How I'd Actually Embarrass Myself: He still is Sting, you idiot. Also, I didn't want mustard on the sandwich.

The Likely Result: It's kind of hard to see how this one leads to fame or riches, actually. But the sandwich would probably be okay, even with the mustard.



Click here to see all the other Whodathunkits?!!

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Click here to see all the other MiniBests!

Click here to see all the other topics I’ve ever discussed!

This is the only jingle you'll ever hear that will have you playing air guitar...(The Best Ad Jingles, 6)

It's a Minibest!

I really wish there were more of this jingle than just this tiny bit. I wish the Stones would get back together, exhume Keith Richards, and make this a full-length song. I give you:

"Rice Krispies," by The Rolling Stones:



I heard about this via Seth Stevenson's column on Slate. Seth has a lot of smart things to say about ads -- but he's also wrong in that column. There is no such thing as selling out (as I've said before)-- the concept is a hackneyed one applied only to "artists," who we feel should be above such things as making money, and paying rent and eating and surviving.

Seth: Artists sell out every time they make you pay to buy a record. True, you can have too much money -- anyone who earns more than $200,000 a year has too much money and is hoarding resources and hurting humanity through his/her actions, including the Black-Eyed Peas -- but you cannot sell out, even if you are an artist who makes art. We all do what we do to earn a living. Some of us write for Slate, some of us (me) sue people, some of us dance around in Target ads, and some of us write very cool Rice Krispie jingles.

Heck, I wish there were more awesome jingles like this, and that the bands would make money doing those and then let me download their albums for free.

So, Seth and others -- don't get mad that your favorite rock band made an ad. Get mad that they made an ad and then still charged you full price for the CD.




I'm thinking about ad jingles because I am engaged in trying to change the very nature of publishing -- by selling ad space in my upcoming book. Click here to read more about that.


Click here to see all the other Whodathunkits?!!

Click here to see all the other SemiDaily Lists!

Click here to see all the other MiniBests!

Click here to see all the other topics I’ve ever discussed!

The Best Episode of A Police Show Ever.

I am not a fan of cop shows.

I'm not a fan of most TV shows, these days, and the shows that I am a fan of tend to get canceled just as soon as the universe hears that I like them. (I should never have irritated the Fates by challenging them to that riddle game and then asking them what have I got in my pocket?) Or, if they don't get canceled, then they get taken over by that weird guy with the teeth and totally ruined.

Seriously, what happened to Best Week Ever, the only show VH1 ever put on that was worth watching? I sat down one Friday night to watch it and instead of a bunch of unknown comedians making fun of Michael Buble, I got Paul F. Tompkins in front of that giant pinball machine from Electric Company, and no funny jokes. That, I think, is worse than canceling my show, because my show is still on, it just sucks terribly now.

Cop shows have never really drawn me in for two reasons. First, they're boring. And second, they're predictable.

Although, as I look at that, that may just be one reason and one result of that reason. Either way, though, I'm right: cop shows are boring and predictable.

Look at all the cop shows on TV and see what they all have in common.

Quirky partner pairings? Check: Whether it's Grissom and his fascination with bugs teaming up with ex-stripper-turned-CSI Marg Helgenberger, or Jeff Goldblum's guitar playing nutcase joining forces with that-girl-with-nondescript-hair, any cop show that wants viewers will create a quirky pairing. They even try it on Cold Case, although nobody on that show is quirky.

Ripped-from-the-headlines (but with a twist!) storylines? You bet: this week's installment of Law & Order: Criminal Intent was practically composed of only headlines: An evangelical Christian, who was downsized (in this economy!) for troubles with subprime loans murders (among others) a drama teacher! (Okay, so drama teachers have been absent from the headlines. The rest is all yesterday's news, quite literally.)

Commentary on how terrible our justice system is supposed to be? Right here: A recent episode of Law & Order/CSI/SVU/Criminal Minds/The Closer -- it doesn't matter which it actually was -- had a character saying I don't work for the fairness system, I work for the justice system. Touche, Hollywood writers. As a lawyer, all I can say is: Ouch... that hurts. Metaphorically speaking.

And all of that is not even touching on the most basic point about most cop shows, which is this: They are solved by accident. I've mentioned this before, that detectives mostly solve crimes accidentally on TV, but it bears repeating not just because they still do (A recent episode of the The Closer took this literally -- The Closer solved a crime because people kept going to the wrong address to inspect the scene of the crime) but also because the movie The Hangover just used exactly that same method to solve their problem.

[SPOILER ALERT! INVOLVING A MOVIE I SAW LAST WEEK AND INSTANTLY SAID MIGHT BE THE FUNNIEST MOVIE EVER BUT THE BOY TOLD ME I SHOULD JUST WAIT UNTIL THE EXCITEMENT DIES DOWN AND THEN SEE IF I STILL THINK IT WAS THE FUNNIEST EVER, WHICH IS SAYING A LOT COMING FROM HIM, BECAUSE HE ANNOUNCED THAT THE DARK KNIGHT WAS THE BEST MOVIE EVER ABOUT 3 SECONDS INTO THAT MOVIE.]

In The Hangover, and, seriously, do not read this if you haven't yet seen the movie, because it will wreck it for you. Just revealing this gives away about thirty punchlines and also the entire plot of the movie...

... forgive me. I'm having a crisis of conscience here because I'm still a little bitter about the fact that I knew, going in, that Bruce Willis was dead, and also I knew, going in, that Qui-Gon would die, so I'm just trying to weigh my moral obligations here, because I know there are going to be people like me who are thinking Just go ahead and tell us, I'm not planning on seeing the movie, which is why I originally read the secret of The Sixth Sense, only then they're going to see the movie, anyway, and it'll be spoiled for them.

Okay. I'm not gonna do it. I'm not going to do what everyone else in the world does. I'm not going to reveal the big twist in The Hangover. If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about and how they solved their problem entirely by accident, and if you haven't, then you will see it, and you'll know what I was talking about.



Anyway, cop shows as a rule bore me and are predictable and trite and, by now, have more or less run through every possible scenario for every possible crime, and I'm not exaggerating that, either. When a cop show resorts to a world-famous astronaut killing another astronaut (and reveals, for no reason whatsoever, that one of the cops was going to be an astronaut and idolized the killer astronaut), they've exhausted plotlines. (And, as usual, I did not bother doing a SPOILER ALERT! for that because it's a stupid plot and stupid plots deserve to be spoiled.)

There was, though, one cop show once that drew me in and had me watching it every single week, for the whole two years that it was still on while I watched it. That show was Homicide: Life On The Streets.

Homicide was on TV for years before I ever heard about it. My roommate in law school liked to watch it and began telling me about it, and eventually I sat down and watched an episode of it, and I liked it, too. (Within two years, the show was cancelled. The Fates were a little slow, there, but didn't miss their chance.)

Homicide probably never had a chance, and not just because I liked to watch it. It was a complicated, thoughtful show that did not encapsulate each episode and isolate them from the rest.

That's a complaint I have about cop shows these days-- and it's also the reason they can stay on the air so long. If you watch Law & Order/SVU/The Closer/Monk, and the like, there is very little continuity from show to show. Sure, every now and then there's a to be continued, like the time the "special victims" that were being rescued were animals (ahem) but for the most part, each show has no connection to the shows in the past and no connection to the shows in the future. The characters don't grow or change or evolve or learn; they're static, like the kids in Peanuts (which had more continuity from strip to strip than most cop shows do these days.)

Don't bother saying but they mention Elliot's wife, or didn't Brenda marry Fritz? Or Monk's been investigating his wife's murder for years. Those don't really matter. They're just "character tidbits," sprinkled over the show like jimmies on ice cream. The writers have to give the cops something to say while they walk down the street to get to the brownstone where the Hispanic illegal immigrant (timely!) who is planning to shoot a doctor who gives abortions (timely!) because the doctor aborted his Iranian girlfriend's baby, resulting in her deportation back to that country (extra timely!), and so they scatter some "characterization:"

Emotionally-stable, probably-female cop character: "So, as we walk to this brownstone to arrest this illegal immigrant, etc. etc., how are things going with that child or children you had in that one episode?"

Quirky, possibly-deranged, likely male cop character: "I've been studying guitar, in hopes of connecting with him/her/them but my wife, or if I am suddenly revealed to be a gay man in hopes of getting ratings, life partner, has really been interfering with my ability to do so."

Emotionally-stable, probably-female cop character: "Well, that's too bad. Hey, here we are. Let's go arrest this guy even though he's kind of a victim of the system."

Quirky, possibly-deranged, likely male cop character: "I don't work for the victim system. I work for the justice system."

Emotionally-stable, probably-female cop character: "That really didn't make any sense."


You get the point. By the next episode, the guitar-playing kids will never be mentioned again and the male character won't have a wedding ring on. The rule is: the less continuity, the better!because if there's continuity then viewers will not be free to tune in some weeks and tune out others, and will have to follow the show. You know what passes for continuity nowadays? Brenda carrying around her cat as she investigates a murder on The Closer.

Homicide was different. Homicide had continuity coming out its ears. It took me the better part of six months to get up to speed on the show, figure out who was who and why they acted the way they did, follow the ongoing investigations and storylines, and sort out characters, but it was six months' worth of entertainment I had in doing so, and as I figured out what was going on and who was who and why they did what they did, the storylines became richer for me, the characters more developed, everything more meaningful.

At the time I began watching, the ongoing story involved an attempt to investigate and bring down a murderous drug dealer named Luther Mahoney, who, with his gang, was responsible for murder after murder and crime after crime and who, I believe, had actually gotten some of the Baltimore cops shot. That investigation lasted months, until it culminated in an episode where three of the characters had cornered Luther Mahoney in his penthouse and were going to arrest him. They had Luther at gunpoint, and he had a gun, and as the cops and Luther faced off against each other, Luther put his hands to his side and dropped his gun and there was a heartbeat-length pause... and then one of the cops shot him. Just gunned him down.

That single act would reverberate over the remainder of the show as the cops tried to cover for each other and there was an investigation and then the cops had to investigate each other and finally the cop who'd done the shooting confessed and resigned, and all of it was gripping and well-done and kept me captivated.

You know how long that storyline would take on one of today's cop shows? 1 hour. Maybe 2 if they did it as a season-ending cliffhanger. Most of the story would be both revealed and resolved with Sam Waterston and a judge and a defense attorney in a hallway, arguing:

Sam Waterston: "I don't care if he's a cop, he shot someone in cold blood and then covered up the evidence for months and months and even hid it from the internal affairs investigation run by a good friend of his, all of which we didn't bother to show you because our viewers would get bored, so I'm just recapping it now."

Defense Attorney: "He shot a drug dealer, who had murdered dozens of people and even shot a cop, as was shown by the brief montage set to music that we played 22 minutes into the show, just prior to commercials. It's not fair to hold him to the same standard as drug dealers."

Judge: "I don't work for the fairness system. I work for NBC. Who writes this garbage, anyway?"

With all that, there was one episode of Homicide: Life On The Streets that really sticks out in my mind, and it had nothing to do with the ongoing investigation into Luther Mahoney, or any ongoing investigation, or any ongoing storyline. The episode in question was a one-off, an episode which had nothing much to do with anything else on the show but still stands out as The Best Episode of A Police Show Ever, because it was so compelling and so well done and also because it featured the only time I've ever seen a detective investigate a murder that isn't completed yet.

The episode was titled, simply, Subway, and starred Vincent D'Onofrio as a guy who takes the train to work sometimes -- just one day a week -- and who on this particular day is shoved in front of a train by a stranger. But he doesn't get hit by the train and die. He gets, instead, caught in between the train and the edge of the tracks, his body (below the waist) twisted over and over again... so that when the police arrive, he's trapped there, alive -- but not for long.

The homicide detectives are called in to investigate, but they're not even sure if they have a homicide, or an attempted homicide, or just an accident. What they are sure of is that Vincent D'Onofrio's chances are slim-to-none, and so as two cops investigate the murder-- maybe-- other cops are called out to go look for Vincent's wife, who is out jogging.

When I watched that episode the first time (I've watched it in reruns a few times since) I was struck by how great it was. Sad, yes, horrifyingly so, but also phenomenal storytelling that wasn't "ripped from the headlines" or paint-by-numbers detective work. Nobody stumbled across an answer, nobody tossed motions onto a judge's desk and said I'll see you in court, McCoy, nobody shone a blacklight onto a Luminol-spattered desk. Instead, cops walked around looking for a jogger, and they talked to a guy trapped by a subway, and they talked to a suspect and pulled records, and they talked to each other.

But that simple description belies what else was going on -- because the cops in the subway split up, one talking to the victim, one to the suspect -- and as the show went on, the cops began to develop sympathy for each of their witnesses, each getting one side of the story. Meanwhile, the other cops out looking for the victim's wife (so she could say goodbye) talked over what it would be like to be in that guy's situation, and engaged in one of the most mundane of police tasks, all set against a dramatic background.

And what I remember, most of all, beyond the chilling and sad feeling the episode gave me, was over and over the indirect emphasis the show placed on how circumstances placed Vincent D'Onofrio in that situation. His character mentioned, at one point, that he only rode the subway that one day just to make a point, and why'd it have to be that day?

That episode aired in 1997 -- four years before September 11, 2001, when thousands of people would or would not go into work at the World Trade Center, but two years after Oklahoma City, when hundreds of people would or would not go in to work at the federal building. It wasn't "ripped from the headlines" or playing on any obvious connections to any one news event; instead, it took a simple story and used it to elaborate on a theme that touches everyone's life -- how the random actions, the coincidences, the minor decisions that suddenly loom large can affect our lives.

What if Vincent D'Onofrio had been a few minutes late that day? What if he'd called in sick? What if his wife hadn't gone jogging? What if the suspect had opted to go to a different platform?

What if people had called in to work on September 11? What if they hadn't stopped for gas near Lee Boyd Malvo in Washington, D.C.?

On top of that, the cop who was picked to talk to Vincent D'Onofrio -- Andre Braugher's character -- had himself suffered a stroke that nearly killed him, long before, on the show, and so was fully aware how a day can begin one way and end an entirely different way, so Andre was not just investigating a murder -- a murder that hadn't happened yet -- but also was confronting his own past and impulses and motivations.

Anyone can write a cop show; I outlined one in this post without even thinking about it. But to write a cop show that forces a viewer to sit down and watch -- eyes glued to the screen -- and makes a viewer think about their own lives and the chances that may have been taken, without even knowing it, and forces a viewer to shudder a little as he watches the leaves on the trees shake in the wind, a little, just the way they did at the end of that episode, that takes talent. The Subway Episode of Homicide was the single most riveting, daring, creative, and unsettling episode of a cop show, ever. It had no car chases, dramatic confrontations, gun shots, punches, lawyerly speeches, jurors, judges, or any of the usual tropes of the genre.

It just had a guy who didn't know when he woke up that he was going to die that day, and some cops who had to investigate his death before it happened, and some quiet moments with mundane tasks that, as all great writing does, rose beyond the circumstances of the characters to resonate with the lives of anyone who watched it, making it The Best Episode of A Police Show, Ever.

So, the next time you're watching Gary Sinise suddenly look up from his desk and say: "What was that? What did you say about the rock band The Archies? Play that song again... yes. That part. Sugar sugar. That's it! She knew he was diabetic!" stop thinking about the inanity that passes for cop shows these days, and think, instead, about the kinds of shows that used to be on television, and maybe, then, stop watching these dumb shows and insist that networks put on good shows, shows that I would like, too. Sure, they may be cancelled by the Fates as soon as I start watching them, but we'll get a couple of good episodes out of them first.

Bonus! Someone put them on Youtube!

Part 1:


Part 2:


Part 3:


Part 4:


Part 5:


Part 6:



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Squirrels:

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Don't you just get the feeling that Jimmy Fallon would make up little skits about the bacon? (The Best Ad Jingles, 5)

It's a MiniBest!

Today's jingle isn't, technically, maybe, a jingle. Or it is. I don't know. I've never gone and looked up what is or is not a jingle and my stance on what is or is not a pizza would suggest that it's a jingle if I say it's a jingle, so I'm gonna go ahead and say today's jingle is, after all, a jingle.

But it's got no words.

And yet, it's hypnotic, the way a good ad jingle should be. Jingles are used, after all, to make you remember things and associate those memories, and the feelings, with the product the ad makers want you to buy, so it's absolutely essential, for a jingle, that it stick in your head like somebody velcroed it there.

(Like yesterday's, which I hummed a bit of to Sweetie in the afternoon, and then heard her singing three hours later as she got Mr Bunches out of the car... and that wasn't even for a real product!)

So today's Jingle, Jingle Number 5, has that hypnotic quality even though it doesn't have words, and even though it has two people in the commercial -- Jimmy Fallon and Parker Posey -- who I really don't... like. It's not that I dislike them. I don't. But I don't like them, either. I feel this way about them: If I were to attend a large brunch on a Sunday morning, and ended up sitting next to Jimmy Fallon and/or Parker Posey, I wouldn't necessarily leave but I would think to myself, "aw, crap," and it would definitely make me not go back for seconds.

Despite that handicap, though, the song really is quite amazing: Catchy, and itmakes you want to get up and move and maybe even order a Pepsi, especially 'cause that might get you a little further away from Jimmy Fallon:






I'm thinking about ad jingles because I am engaged in trying to change the very nature of publishing -- by selling ad space in my upcoming book. Click here to read more about that.



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The True Meaning Of Father's Day.

There's only 24 hours left until Father's Day -- but that's enough time to go get dad some RC Helicopters and spend a glorious Father's Day having helicopter wars in the living room.

Dad -- and by "Dad" I mean me-- would much much rather do that than open a tie or a gift card to a restaurant or a new pair of slacks. Dad wants... needs ... to have a helicopter war in the living room, which is, honestly, perfect for that because it's got those tall ceilings and the couch that sticks out so that a helicopter could hover down near the floor, hidden from the opponent, and then suddenly go straight up and swoop down at the other helicopter and win, and that's what Father's Day is all about, isn't it? Winning?

Winning and helicopter wars inside.

It doesn't even have to be helicopters. It could be anything that flies and is radio controlled. Or even things that drive, like cars, although cars wouldn't be able to use the third dimension and take advantage of the high ceilings. Then again, cars could use the path around the house to race, with those cool jumps... so, maybe...

Okay, Father's Day is officially about winning and helicopter wars and cool car races around the house. So forget the dumb card ("You're the Best Dad... Reading This Card! Ha!") and instead go over to RC Model Pro and order some cars. Or helicopters. Or order cars and helicopters -- you can afford it because you'll get $5.00 off the Venom Micro Ranger Helicopter by using Coupon Code: VMR500 -- and the day will be extra special.