Monthly Archives: May 2009

I wasn't particularly taken with the White House Correspondents Dinner last night. President Obama's speech was facile and appropriate, though I like him better when he's outclassing his foes. He does that better than engaging them, even in jest. I don't think any politician should get a lot of points for being able to deliver a joke someone else wrote. Several presidents of my lifetime have been pretty good at it and that didn't make them better presidents in any way.

I've enjoyed Wanda Sykes in the past, usually in small doses administered from Mr. Leno's guest chair. She deserves credit for keeping it a little shorter than most do and for not being afraid to do jokes that caused much of the audience to squirm a bit. I suspect a couple of the groaned reactions were feigned and/or a way of saying, "We're going to be hearing a lot of debate about that joke next week." Sitting home, Mr. Limbaugh was probably thrilled that he has something to be outraged about on Monday. If I'd spent my whole career savaging political opponents like he has, I'd look for every possible opportunity to play the victim card. He caters to an audience that will love hearing him lash back at the little black lesbian woman.

One e-mail this morn from a Conservative friend was annoyed that, by his count, she didn't take any shots at all at Obama. What I don't think some Republicans get is that there really aren't a lot of good Obama jokes, at least based on G.O.P. premises. You can mock things like the gifts he's given…and she did. But it's tough to write a joke about how he's a dirty commie socialist who wasn't really born in this country, isn't really Christian and can't say two words without a TelePrompter. For a political joke to work, the audience has to buy at least somewhat into the truth of the criticism and people don't…at least, not yet. The folks in that hotel ballroom last night sure don't, even if some find it financially advantageous to fan such flames.

But come on. 110 days into Bush's presidency, they weren't (yet) making jokes about him being unable to talk or read or being manipulated by Evil Cheney from an undisclosed location, either. In time, the Obama jokes will come. It's just too early for them.

It's not embeddable here but I wanted to call your attention to a documentary that's available for viewing on YouTube. It's called Burger Town and it's a great look at the fast food hamburger business in Southern California, past and present. It's full of old commercials and interviews with restaurant employees, as well as footage and stills of classic burger shrines. It runs about 48 minutes but if the topic interests you, it's well worth the time.

I don't care that Miss California had breast implants or that she posed for racy photos. I also don't care what she thinks about Gay Marriage. I don't know why anyone cares about anything besides how she looks in the bikini and even that's no big deal these days.

I thought we were coming around to the idea that beauty pageants were about beauty…and nothing else. Once upon a time, there were people in this country who pretended that to become Miss Wherever was to be a role model for young women everywhere. In truth, it was all just an exercise in creating a celebrity who could open boat shows for a year and make money for the pageant operators.

But of course, it would be shallow and undignified to admit that the contest is just about lovely young ladies in minimal attire…and if she's going to be cutting the ribbons at gas station openings, it would be nice if she could talk a little. Also, you can't fill a two-hour TV telecast with just swimsuit walkthroughs — so they stuck in talent competitions and the embarrassing little "question" segments where the competitors have 45 seconds to tell us how they'd achieve world peace. And not only do I not care about all this, no one cares about beauty pageants anymore. Miss America pageants used to be prime time major TV events and now they're on low-audience cable channels between reruns of The Jeffersons and infomercials for Kevin Trudeau's latest health scam. The Miss U.S.A. contest, which is where Miss California shot off about same-sex marriages is even less-watched.

Carrie Prejean may be a right-wing bigot but give the lady credit. She found a way to get a little fame and maybe some fortune out of a largely-ignored beauty pageant that she didn't even win. If she hadn't said what she did, all she'd have to show for the experience was the sash, a supply of Revlon products and some lovely parting gifts. Now, she has a chance to get some speaking engagements from right-wing groups and to be a martyr for their cause if, as seems likely, she's stripped of her title on Monday. There may be a book deal there or a job on Fox News. Whatever it is, it's more celebrity than any beauty contest winner has seen since…well, since Vanessa Williams lost her crown due to naughty photos.

Lesson to be learned? The only way to get anything out of being Miss Anything is to have a scandal. If all the contestants figured that out, those pageants might be worth watching.

My pal Lee Wochner has a sad story about Dom DeLuise. And it prompts me to expand on what I wrote earlier about why I decided I had to do something about my own weight.

Obviously, there are about a dozen fine reasons to not be 100+ pounds too big…and it doesn't really matter which is the most important. One that doesn't get a lot of attention is that you just don't fit into the world you're in. I was probably less concerned about shortening my life than I was with just causing problems while I was around — chairs I didn't fit onto, aisles I couldn't pass through, bumping into people, etc. Dropping tonnage has had all sorts of benefits to my health and sleeping and feet and such…but I'm also conscious that I can get into a seat on an airplane without needing a belt extender and crushing the person next to me.

Greg Ford has written a pretty good career overview of the man we call Tex Avery.

I wish there was a way people could see his films — and those by Chuck Jones, Bob Clampett, etc. — in something resembling the way they were meant to be seen. The cartoons weren't made to be seen on a small screen in your home with no audience around. They also weren't meant to be seen in film festivals, one after another.

My first real exposure to Tex Avery cartoons as an adult was when the L.A. County Art Museum hosted an evening of them with Tex there to speak after the screening. They had brand new prints and they had a lot of them. After three, the bright colors and frantic pace began to get a little tiring and after five, one started to notice a certain amount of repetition. After seven or eight, my friends and I fled to the lobby…where we found Tex holding court, talking to a gang of admirers. As he saw us join the throng, he joked, "More people who can't sit through too many of my films." One of my friends started to apologize that we weren't back in the theater, studying every frame of every cel. Tex said, "Don't be sorry. I had to leave after three." None of us thought the films weren't brilliant and hilarious. We just couldn't take them in mega-doses.

I just set my TiVo to record tomorrow's White House Correspondents Dinner. My understanding is that the pre-show (arrivals, interviews, etc.) starts at 8 PM and the dinner itself starts at 9:50 and runs (officially) until 11 PM but will probably run longer. Those are all East Coast times. I'm on the West Coast so I'm recording from 5 PM until 9PM. That oughta do it.