Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
HE PICKED THE WRONG WEEK TO STOP THROWING CURVEBALLS: The deaths of somewhat forgotten Major League relievers aren't usually ALOTT5MA-worthy, but Pedro Borbon, who passed today at the age of 65 merits mention not so much for playing an integral role in the Big Red Machine's two World Series titles, but more so for his integral part in the movie Airplane.
His obit fails to mention if he was a fan a gladiator movies, but Borbon sadly missed sharing a bullpen with Bob Shirley by three seasons.
His obit fails to mention if he was a fan a gladiator movies, but Borbon sadly missed sharing a bullpen with Bob Shirley by three seasons.
CORNBREAD. AIN'T NOTHIN' WRONG WITH THAT: Robert De Niro, to the Bates College Class of 2012:
I think this is the most important piece of advice you will hear today: Become a movie star [laughter].
Now, you may be tempted by other careers, other interests, other commitments. There may be pressure on you to change the world, but you must find the strength to resist. When I started, I wasn’t a movie star, and it sucked [laughter]. The moment I became a movie star, things started to get better [laughter]. If you’re, say, a professor, or a distinguished broadcaster or a groundbreaking biologist, you have to ground it out every day...
When you’re a movie star, you can coast. For example, who remembers the last really good successful picture I made [laughter]? C’mon, anyone? It doesn’t matter. I’m still getting the big bucks that Will Ferrell wishes he were getting.added for Isaac: The Decemberists' Colin Meloy addresses the graduates of his alma mater, Helena High School, on the meaning of Montanan exceptionalism.
GIRL, YOU'LL BE A WOMAN SOON: I wake up this morning and am no crazier about last night's penultimate Mad Men episode of the season than I was when it finished. It all seemed a bit too ... dramatic? forced? soap operatic?
Yet this feels like an odd complaint to lodge at a show whose first season saw an interoffice pregnancy (with a married father and a mother in denial), a man stealing the identity of his dead Korean War colleague, and, yes, a man hanging himself after Don Draper asked him to take some financial benefit and leave his life. So the drama has always been there, with the audience asked to accept radical character gestures from the beginning.
Yet this time, especially with the one-two punch of Joan's situation last week, it all felt like a bit much. Yes, I liked the little touches -- Sally wearing the boots for her date which her father wouldn't let her wear at the Codfish Ball, Don getting his Don Mojo back at last so he can sell more napalm, Betty showing humanity when Sally came home, Lane not even getting his suicide right the first time.
But on the whole, I'm feeling disappointed by this season, which seems to have substitute stunts (Roger's on LSD! Let's contrive to prostitute Joan! Zou bisou bisou!) for more nuanced character work. Peggy has moved on (for now -- no mention of her this week?), Lane has passed on, and Sally is growing up ... and everyone else is more or less themselves, Roger's LSD enlightenment having worn off, and less of the outside world creeping in (civil rights movement, culture of violence) as we once thought it might be. Things are happening, but the show doesn't feel as tight as it once was. Maybe Matthew Weiner has already told 90% of the story he wanted to tell, and we're stalling until the ending?
Yet this feels like an odd complaint to lodge at a show whose first season saw an interoffice pregnancy (with a married father and a mother in denial), a man stealing the identity of his dead Korean War colleague, and, yes, a man hanging himself after Don Draper asked him to take some financial benefit and leave his life. So the drama has always been there, with the audience asked to accept radical character gestures from the beginning.
Yet this time, especially with the one-two punch of Joan's situation last week, it all felt like a bit much. Yes, I liked the little touches -- Sally wearing the boots for her date which her father wouldn't let her wear at the Codfish Ball, Don getting his Don Mojo back at last so he can sell more napalm, Betty showing humanity when Sally came home, Lane not even getting his suicide right the first time.
But on the whole, I'm feeling disappointed by this season, which seems to have substitute stunts (Roger's on LSD! Let's contrive to prostitute Joan! Zou bisou bisou!) for more nuanced character work. Peggy has moved on (for now -- no mention of her this week?), Lane has passed on, and Sally is growing up ... and everyone else is more or less themselves, Roger's LSD enlightenment having worn off, and less of the outside world creeping in (civil rights movement, culture of violence) as we once thought it might be. Things are happening, but the show doesn't feel as tight as it once was. Maybe Matthew Weiner has already told 90% of the story he wanted to tell, and we're stalling until the ending?
Sunday, June 3, 2012
ONLY ONE ANSWER ON THE BOARD, HERE'S THE QUESTION: Has Richard Dawson, host of the Family Feud (and The Running Man) and co-star of Hogan's Heroes, passed away at the age of 79? Survey says!
YOUR JOURNEY IS JUST BEGINNING: It's all over now; the spellers have returned home after Friday's Speller Prom (at least, that's what I'm calling it). Scott Isaacs, who won the 1989 Scripps National Spelling Bee, has been commenting here for the past few years as Uncle Spike; this year, in response to a Craigslist ad, he became a coach, and he was generous enough to share this story with all of us:
* * *
To start off, Adam already posted a link to my blog, containing a poem written in honor of Dr. Bailly’s immediate pronouncing predecessor, Dr. Alex Cameron. But my post also illustrates, from a coach’s perspective, some of the angst that was going through my head as this year’s bee began. Check it out for the full story before reading on.
Without being overly effusive, I have to say that coaching Frank Cahill to his success in the National Spelling Bee has been a delight the entire way through. For a first-time coach like me, Frank was about as ideal a protégé as you could hope for. Unerringly polite, friendly, inquisitive, incredibly intelligent, and always willing to learn more…these are the qualities that make coaching sessions that last for hours seems to zoom by in a matter of minutes. But outside of our study sessions, Frank was astoundingly diligent. I thought I was wowing people back in 1989, saying I studied 3 hours a night prior to my victory in DC, and even studied up to 8 hours a few weekends here and there. Nowadays, that’s merely a good start. Frank willingly and gladly put in up to 12 hours a day on the weekends in the months leading up to nationals. He sacrificed his winter and spring breaks so he could concentrate on studying every day. And during our last month, we would meet twice, sometimes three times a week for 3-4 hours at a time, going over lists of up to 500 increasingly arcane words that I had forwarded to him sometimes no more than 36 hours prior to meeting.
Without being overly effusive, I have to say that coaching Frank Cahill to his success in the National Spelling Bee has been a delight the entire way through. For a first-time coach like me, Frank was about as ideal a protégé as you could hope for. Unerringly polite, friendly, inquisitive, incredibly intelligent, and always willing to learn more…these are the qualities that make coaching sessions that last for hours seems to zoom by in a matter of minutes. But outside of our study sessions, Frank was astoundingly diligent. I thought I was wowing people back in 1989, saying I studied 3 hours a night prior to my victory in DC, and even studied up to 8 hours a few weekends here and there. Nowadays, that’s merely a good start. Frank willingly and gladly put in up to 12 hours a day on the weekends in the months leading up to nationals. He sacrificed his winter and spring breaks so he could concentrate on studying every day. And during our last month, we would meet twice, sometimes three times a week for 3-4 hours at a time, going over lists of up to 500 increasingly arcane words that I had forwarded to him sometimes no more than 36 hours prior to meeting.
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