Letters to Holly

Saturday, February 25

RIP Don Knotts

Don Knotts was that type of performer who knew that he should stick with what worked, and for him, it was broad comedy. He didn't do impressions. Didn't do pratfalls. Didn't work blue. He was a clown, and for generations of TV fans, he was THE clown. His Barney Fife was the epitome of a man who took his job too seriously, and his other characters precisely depicted men stunned by success stumbled upon, often despite their shortcomings.

Fife, for me, was an institution, a name brand that existed before my first memory and popped up throughout my life: Mr. Limpet played constantly in reruns on our static-peppered TV before we got cable. My parents took me to see Private Eyes and The Apple Dumpling Gang at theatre matinees. He replaced the Ropers on "Three's Company," a show I was took young to know was filled with sex jokes. And, of course, in the South especially, he was Barney Fife. Before Nick At Night helped make retro TV cool, Fife was as common a cultural benchmark as Johnny Carson and Jimmy Carter. To announce Knotts's death, Fark.com -- a site infamous for too-cool headline jokes and self-referential comedy -- referred to Fife's unused bullet in the shirt pocket. You couldn't escape Barney. The local NBC affiliate still runs "Andy Griffith" reruns whenever the network can't fill the time. It's the only show I can remember that has run on all four local network affiliates at one time or another.

Now my confession: I hate "The Andy Griffith Show." Never took a liking to it. I didn't like the cartoonish Goober or Gomer or Ernest or Floyd or Otis, and Aunt Bea was nowhere near as cool as Aunt Harriet from "Batman." But Barney was funny. Gene Siskel said you can't convince someone to find something funny or sexy. Either you do or you don't. A whole lotta folks found Barney funny. Knotts's seemed perfectly content to make people laugh with the most accessible humor possible. His Barney remains a character grandparents can show their grandkids without any disclaimers or hesitation. Generations can enjoy him at the same time, and that's an achievement indeed.

Friday, February 24

Amazon Is Magic

I got an email yesterday saying an Amazon.com order was sent back to them by the local (read: hick, yokel, Mayberry) post office. Instead of forwarding my shipment to my new address, they sent it back to Amazon. It makes no sense; just Wednesday I received mail sent to my previous address but forwarded to my new one by the PO folks. Grr. Bureaucratic inconsistency make Greg mad.

I used the email link from Amazon to contact their customer service options. Included in them is the option to have them call you. You click a button and input your phone number. You then select when you want them to call. I selected the "right now." As soon as I clicked enter, the phone rang. It's the automated Amazon system. It was instantaneous. I expected some time to be lost through programming processing. No. They called. Immediately.

So I talked to them and confirmed that the order is back to Amazon, and that's ultimately OK. I swung by Best Buy to get the items (“Angel” Season 5 and Serenity DVDs). I called Amazon solely to verify that they indeed had the order returned, so I wouldn’t buy the items, drive home, and find my order on my doorstep.

My point: Amazon customer service is muy bueno. But that immediate callback is startling. I'm shocked by its efficiency.

Your Sister is getting better. Another day of reading and napping seems to have steeled her to return to work. I cooked a quick meal of broiled pork chops and zucchini. Did you know that if zucchini is broiled or grilled, it tastes exactly like corn? Truly. We couldn’t believe it. Normally we bake of stir-fry it.

We watched the Olympics almost exclusively last night, and it was quite the show. NBC showed the women’s skate finals spread out among clips of the men’s freestyle Downhill Flail. There is, of course, a great discrepancy between the presentations for ice skating and the other winter games. While it gets a bad rap for pretension and gentility, ice skating is the closest the winter games have to artistry amid the action. I traditionally favor the summer games, especially gymnastics, but I admit that the choreography mandated in gym routines is often stiff and flat. A wrist wave here. A twirled elbow there. It’s just filler unless a gymnast has some sense of fun and comfort. Everyone else is mindlessly stirring the air between flips. But ice skating benefits from constant motion. Even if the skaters are tensing up before a spin or jump, they’re still gliding. Combine that with the blurred depth of the rink caused by camera focus and their adjustment in turn angles, and skating has continuous energy gymnastics can’t match. Of course, it can still get boring. And the costumes can be garish. And the make-up can look like it was applied during airplane turbulence.

But last night’s work was solid, even by the gals who had no shot at medaling. The most consistent improvement in women’s skating is that virtually every jump was followed by a smooth transition from jump to follow-through leg extension. That was a touch that divided the main-eventers and the runners-up. No longer it seems. Instead, the women were separated by consistency of energy. Many, many skaters gave up on their routine and diluted their planned jumps. Triples became doubles over and over, and that kept many from cracking the top five. NBC was building up American Sasha Cohen all night long and referred to a leg injury possibly resulting from a warm-up fall. They didn’t mention the obvious back pad she wore while walking backstage. Unfortunately, after all the hype, she fell 20 seconds into her routine, killing her shot at gold. She took silver, however, and that’s nothing to sneeze at. The gold went to Shizuka Arakawa, Japan’s first gold medalist in figure skating. Sarah Meier of Switzerland had the best costume, a decent picture of which I can’t find with any search engine.

This weekend marks the real beginning of the annual comic-book convention season with a huge con in New York. At this show, a seminar on graphic novel sales put into focus the growth of the market:

2001: $75 mil
2002: 110 mil
2003: 165 mil
2004: 207 mil
2005: 245 mil (estimate)

Japanese manga continues to dominate by almost 20% over the domestic superhero genre. But that’s somewhat of a skewed stat. Manga incorporates everything from heroes to fantasy to romance to robots. American fare is virtually all superhero. It’s not a fair comparison, but manga does continue to capture the teen reading market especially among girls.

Speaking of comics, I’m still reading the Nelson Mandela editorial cartoon compilation you gave me. Let me return the favor: If you haven’t kept up with Doonesbury lately, a major subplot involves lead character B.D. recovering from amputation after his service in Iraq. A collection of the initial stories is available from Amazon.com, but you can read the majority of material online for free. For modern comic strips, this is groundbreaking stuff. And speaking again of comics …

The Picture of the Day
Sony released this picture form the next Spidey movie. It comes out in May. Of 2007.



In the news

The UAE company says it will hold off active control of the U.S. ports, and the White House says this allows Congress to review the deal before making it official. Locally, N.C. Senator Libby Dole took a strong stand against the deal and then learned husband Bob was hired to lobby for the port company.

Thursday, February 23

She's Sick

Your Sister was sick all day, as I discovered when I got home and found her reading my comics. Yes, she was that sick. After the Elektra DVD debacle, I handed her a stack of Elektra comics all written by Frank Miller (the guy who also created Sin City) and told her those comics are what she had hoped to see in the film. Another sign of how sick she was is that she actually asked to watch “Iron Chef.” It’s my own fault she’s not so hip on it anymore; I would never miss it when we were first dating, and I think she grew tired of the formula. The episode we watched off our TiFaux featured Conger Sea Eel, and half the fun is watching the chefs try to catch them. Unfortunately, the show gets very bloody right after that.

We skipped the Olympics. Well, that’s not true. We tried to watch but all we found were commercials. We managed to see the very beginning of the women’s Downhill Flail but turned quickly after a competitor collapsed in agony when her surgically repaired knee gave out on a landing. The women’s single skating finals are tonight, and I imagine we’ll watch that.

Another side effect of Your Sister’s illness is that she apparently becomes Wile E. Coyote Super-Genius, as she hammered me at Jeopardy last night. It wasn’t even close. Even nailed the planetary Final Jeopardy question, and astronomy is supposed to be my forte. She’s staying home from work again today, so I’m desperate to find cheats online so I can win. {Note to Wife: No, not really.]

The adjusted glasses continue to be an improvement. No headaches and fewer twitches. I wonder if the darker frames are affecting my lazy eye, maybe pulling the pair to normal position.

The Picture of the Day
This is our new mutual addiction: Ice cream packaged with pieces of birthday cake. I nominate the inventor for Eternal Hero status.


In the news
When even Tom DeLay says a shady deal is a bad political move, you have to consider the port contracts in trouble. Bush contends the ports do not constitute a security risk under UAE control, and news accounts say a security deal forces the UAE to help future investigations into terrorism. The White House press secretary says Bush learned of the deal from the media. I’m for delegating responsibilities – in fact, I delegate all of them – but shouldn’t this at least come up in a daily briefing? The official White House website previously posted video of the briefings, but no more. I suspect the common scene of McClellan foundering behind the podium worried the image-conscious advisers.

+ + +

The fallout from the Iraq Shia shrine attack is very not good. Sunnis claim at least 160 of their mosques were attacked in retaliation, and news reports say at least 110 are dead. The Sunni parliament coalition has backed out of talks to help form the federal government.

Wednesday, February 22

Wednesday

The Brevard High basketball team made it into the state playoffs by beating a team that had won their previous 61 games. Last night, the team started the first round of sectional playoffs, and, man, has this team gotten better. They never trailed Madison and were rarely ahead by less than five points. They pass well, but I was really impressed by the midpoint jumpers. Instead of launching three-pointers or barreling to the hoop to draw the foul (and risk injury), they would stop short, shoot, and make most of them.

After the game, we moseyed to Juan’s restaurant with another couple for mucho beer and enchiladas. So Tuesday went like this: work, commute, game, Mexican, sleep. A fine, fine day even if we did miss the Olympics. We’ll catch up on the games tonight as there is no new “Lost.” Again. I initially had no problem watching the show in batches – three weeks of new shows, two weeks of reruns – but there’s so much to keep track of now that I worry I’m losing interest. Thankfully, a dedicated (read: insane) group of people online help me juggle the subplots, and unfortunately, encourage me to come up with scenarios to tie it all together. We have our favorites: nanite technology, time travel, memory-swapping, unknown family connections. It’s sci-fi fan fiction run amok.


The Picture of the Day.
A sneak peek of the Academy Awards set, courtesy of The Envelope.

In the news
The destruction of the Shia golden dome in Iraq has crated a riotous frenzy and raised concerns of the growing civil war in Iraq. It’s considered impolite to suggest Iraq could crumble into such conflict, and many are aware that a few are trying to herd them there. I don’t think it’s inevitable, but it seems increasingly possible. Bombings in Iraq occur virtually every day, and some of our most prominent talking heads downplay the attacks by comparing Iraq’s death toll to the average murder rates in major American cities. That’s crap, it is. People are getting bombed in Iraq by the dozens weekly if not daily. That’s not crime. That’s terrorism. And if the Shia return with like means, then you’ve got civil war. I don’t know how long the Shia leaders can be placated to play the “big man.” And if Shiite Muslims begin to act despite their clerics’ admonitions, then those leaders do no good to the country or to our troops as a calming influence.

+ + +

Bush is threatening to veto a Congressional bill to counter the sale of port control to a UAE company. This would be his first veto, and it’s odd that he’s pull that lever over this matter. Rumors allege that he has financial ties to that company. Those rumors also raise the specter of Bush family ties to the Nazis in WWII, and anytime someone starts using the word “Nazi” when talking about a president, my eyes roll so far back into my head that they slide down inside my feet. It’s a shrill card to play in any argument. The ports have already been under the auspices of a foreign company (a British agency is selling the rights), and yet, in all the talk about port security during the last election rhetoric or the current complaints about porous borders, the notion of foreign-owned port management never came up. While the talking heads argue over racism derailing the contract, I still question any outside agency overseeing the ports. And here's a new twist: The White House now says Bush didn't know about the deal until after it was completed. Does this foreshadow a Cabinet secretary falling on his sword?

Monday, February 20

Three-Day Weekend

Saturday, Your Sister and I had lunch at the local Irish pub with our pals, Travis and Kathy and their German exchange student, Tonia. They’re expecting and have sonograms to display their little smudge of joy. Kathy’s convinced it’s a girl; Travis is convinced it’s a tadpole. We like to meet up on the weekend at this pub, and the joint doesn’t give us much choice: They close the kitchen at 8 p.m. on weekdays. Even here in Mayberry, that’s pathetic. And a bit stupid. They might as well post a sign reading “Please eat at the Mexican restaurant a hundred yards away.” But the burgers are good and huge, and we can sit for a while and rant against the world.

I should also note that my high-school buddy Esther is expecting; she emailed her sonogram to me last week The couple we saw Hamlet with on Friday are also with child, and all this fertility discourages us from sleeping in the same room.

That night we watched the Olympics. Shani Davis won gold in speed skating and caught hell for not helping Chad Hedrick win five gold medals by competing in a team skate. I don’t get it. He’s there to win his event. He’s trained to win his event. Why should he risk that to help Chad pile up his medals?

During all this to-do, we took an Olympic break and popped in our dusty, unopened Elektra DVD. This was a spin-off of the better-than-expected Daredevil film, and it let Marvel Comics see if a solo heroine film could work. While I think one can, this film isn’t proof. It’s ninety minutes of ho-hum action, sparse SFX, and weak character development. For a comic geek like myself, the worst offense is that this is in no way the Elektra that would draw people to the theatres. The comic Elektra doesn’t need sleeping pills, doesn’t fall for frumpy dads on the run from super-ninjas, and doesn’t get sappy over super-powered teenage girls. This reminded me quite a bit of King Arthur, the Clive Owen film that shoehorned in Camelot names to characters who neither behaved like the Arthur crew or undertook any Camelot-like deeds. Elektra is just like that. Save for the names of characters, this has nothing to do with the characters' source stories. I had heard nothing but bad things about the film, but Your Sister was curious enough for us to buy the DVD unseen. She likes Jennifer Garner. To be more precise, she likes confident action heroines. Garner does a fine job with what was given her, but it’s in no way a good product. We wondered if a longer edit might make a better film, and, when we were in Best Buy the next day, I noticed the director’s cut Elektra DVD. It’s only three minutes longer and includes “a new sound remix.” This is not enough to get through our door. When we saw Kingdom of Heaven on DVD a few weeks back (this is the “Orlando Bloom in the Crusades” film), we both could tell this was a good movie hacked to a shorter length, and what we’re left with is a hunk vehicle with no substance. When the director’s cut of Kingdom comes out, we’ll definitely get it.

On Sunday, we went to H&R Block and got our taxes done, our first as Man and Hot Wife. I managed to have two Caramel Crackaccinos this day, and I still have yet to blink.

We caught more Olympics, including the controversial ice dancing. By controversial, I of course mean “inappropriately dressed for that kind of activity.” This year’s event saw a lot of crashes as the couples tried dangerous tricks to score more points. One Canadian gal was literally hip-tossed flat on the ice. While the sport markets itself to the more feminine audiences, it stands a better chance of respectability by courting the Winter X Games crowd. Since these couples are daring to bend backward and grab their skates and twirl around the rink, why not encourage them to backflip (France’s Surya Bonaly has done it for close to a decade now) and have them dress for body protection? Move away from the bangles and glitter and let these athletes display themselves as such, not as full-size girl dolls. And ditch all that eye shadow. It’s hideous. You might lose the little pre-teens, but you’d gain a larger teen male audience, the key demographic for sponsors.

On Monday, with the day off, I hit the doctor’s office to get my glasses adjusted. They’re a bit better, but there’s still a transition of focus within the left lens. It’s as if I have bifocals. They assured me I don’t, and now I wonder if I need to tell the doctor to strengthen my prescription. I stare at a computer screen all day at work, and the new glasses have given me the bad headaches and squint lines. When the glasses were fixed yesterday, I thought the best way to try them out would be to, of course, stare at a computer screen for a few hours, and that’s where my glorious videogames paid for themselves. Mondays, as always, mean Wings and Wrestling, but before we saw the night’s WWE show, we watched “Mad About You” (your sister’s favorite sitcom), and I spotted one of the actors’ from my favorite all-time film, From Beyond, the 1980s b-movie. We also caught a "Star Trek: Next Generation" episode where Troi's mom argues against a planet's custom of killing anyone who reaches the age of 60. Some of those episodes can get heavy-handed and dull, but good acting by David Ogden Stiers (you know, Winchester from "MASH") and Mrs. Roddenberry elevate it. Watching this was my wife's idea by the way; turns out she's just as much a geek as I am.



The Monday WWE show, “Raw,” featured the in-ring debut of the Spirit Squad, a five-man cheerleading team decked in green and white. Before last night, all they had done was pop into the ring and perform a lame cheer and annoy those of us who hate dumb gimmicks (yes, some wrestling gimmicks aren’t dumb). Last night, however, they worked a match and put on a high-flying clinic, including the use of a mini trampoline. These guys can work. I now think this may be the greatest gimmick in all of pro wrestling. I am officially a fan.

We also watched some more Olympics last night, the highlight of which was the men's aerial jumps. This combines the ski jump with flips, twists, and turns done at slightly less than the speed of sound. It can only be deemed the Downhill Flail. Everyone lands on a steep hill and have no choice but to bounce on their tushies lest the landing crush their ankles. I can't tell how the judges determine the winner because all the jumps appear to be the same thing: a flurry of limbs. Tonight, Shani and Chad go head-to-head for a medal, and Shani has the full support of the household.

The debate rages over the proposed sale of domestic port operations to a company from the United Arab Emirates. The Senate majority leader has called to cancel the deal. Some consider the sale to a foreign company a national security issue, and some, I suspect, don’t like the word “Arab” in the name of any country. There are references to the UAE as the native country of two of the 9/11 hijackers and to the country supporting terrorist organizations in the past. It’s a dumb move to outsource this to anyone, period, and I don’t understand why a domestic company isn’t given more consideration for the deal. I don’t think it should be a government agency though; there’s too much potential for operational changeover between administrations. … The Supreme Court will hear a case concerning the constitutionality of banning late-term abortions. … David Edmondson, the CEO of Radio Shack, has resigned after it was discovered he lied on his resume about graduating with two degrees. He only completed two semesters. Speaking of disbelief, how is Radio Shack still in business? I’ve been in two stores in as many states in the past 10 years, and both were small and depressing. The one closest to our house has items for sale in packages from the 1980s. …

Hamlet

On Friday, The Wife and I saw the Aquila Theatre Company's production of Hamlet. It's a smallish touring troupe; there's only eight names on the cast list. It was a very simple set with maybe a dozen props, including moving furniture pieces. The backdrop was an enlarged photo of what looked like a cobblestone road hub, but at that size it appeared as a shattered window or a spider's web. If you're traveling as they are, you have to work simple. According to their website, the show tours in tandem with Jekyll and Hyde throughout the Spring of 2006.

As to the show itself, Hamlet is such a cultural landmark that, unless the audience know absolutleys nothing about the play, it's impossible to judge a production on its own. This is the Moby Dick of plays: not the longest, not the most popular, but the most well-known of all titles and characters. This is not a show you can merely breeze through and hope the dialogue carries the production. You have to understand what the characters mean when they speak, aside from the random "bodkins" and"fardels," and unfortunately, there's no critical consensus as to when Hamlet is acting crazy or truly has lost his fardel-marbles.

I'm not sure every scene of this play is given its due: the speech and direction seemed hasty, as if the actors were rushing through a slower moment to get to one with more meat to it. For instance, Gertrude announces Ophelia's death by standing in place and speaking to the audience. There is no interaction with the other characters here. Similarly, the ghost appears behind the actors, leaving them to act toward the audience. Osric is presented with a hurried Irish accent (an Irishman in Denmark?), and his explanation of the duel is a quick mumble. The "to be or not to be speech" not only was recited at warp speed, but I think they moved it.

There was quite a bit bumped around or bumped entirely from the show. The big confrontation with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern is given instead to Polonius. Fortinbras doesn't appear, and the play ends as Hamlet dies; there is no coda as with Romeo and Juliet. Osric doesn't get his comedy scene, and I'm not sure Hamlet ever learned about Ophelia's death onstage. Again, one wonders if knowledge of the show works against you when viewing a production that makes edits. Someone who never read the play might have loved it. I was left a mite confused about their choices and whether the changes makes the play illogical to a newcomer. But these changes, one thinks, are made primarily to speed the play along. The audience I was a part of was mostly old, and I don't know if their bladders could cope with the full daffy Dane.

Speaking of age, my pet theory of Hamlet is that he's a kid who has to move quickly from book-learning to street smarts at the nadir of his mopey-goth teen phase, and I'm glad to see a young Hamlet in this show. Youth excuses some of his eccentricities, bad judgments and his famous dilemma of acting versus thinking. This is a show ultimately made of great moments, when the actors nail the scene or the emotional moment amid the rush and edits. For instance Emily Bennett delivers the best crazy Ophelia I've seen, and the interpretation of R and G as ivy-league frat boys is so brilliant, I cracked up before they got to speak. Also, when Claudius has his confessional scene, the actor almost steals the whole show. The show doesn't live up to the high standard set by Shenendoah Shakespeare (with which I always dreamed of running away), but Aquila gives you a two-and-a half hour injection of The Bard without dumbing it down.

This was better than the near-camp of Kenneth Branagh's 1996 version, but didn't have the invested gravity of the Mel Gibson adaptation.