Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Where is he?

That Schillig sure is lazy. No new posts since February 2007.

Wait a minute. I switched blog sites at the request of management. You can find me here from now on.

Thursday, February 8, 2007

Universal Sign for Choking

Here's a snippet from my print column today, which is in turn a reworking/reaction/recycling of pieces published here. At this rate, I may never have to write anything original again. (I know, I know, when is the last time I ever wrote anything original, you ask. I know you're out there; I can hear you breathing.)

My wife and I disagree on the effectiveness of the universal sign for choking. She believes that placing both hands to your throat is appropriate and easily understood.

I do not. It could decrease airflow to the lungs and make the choking worse. I argue that a person instinctively pounds on his chest when choking, and that this is a better signal.


The debate began at a local restaurant a few years ago when I choked on a piece of steak and began striking my chest with closed fist. My wife, apparently misinterpreting my desperate banging for the universal sign for “Me Tarzan, You Jane” or the politically incorrect sign for mental retardation, began to laugh.

Once I dislodged the offending meat (no thanks to her), I was rather angry, leading me to finish my meal in stony silence (which really wasn’t much of a punishment for her). My chest thumping is still a subject of controversy today, and whenever she hears of somebody choking, she innocently inquires if he subscribes to the Chris Schillig school of chest thumping, complete with a grossly distorted pantomime of my distress.

What do you think, gentle reader? Hands to throat, or fist to chest?

If you want more, a copy of The Review is only 50 cents. Be a pal and contribute toward my retirement, won't you?

Tuesday, February 6, 2007

Frost, Ice and Snow, Man

Northeast Ohio's deep freeze continues today. When I woke up, the thermometer (actually, the automated Time and Temp voice guy) said it was 7 degrees below zero. Ouch!

Paying homage to all things frigid, here's a song parody I wrote last month, a.k.a. the good old days of December when the temperatures were an unseasonably warm 50 degrees.

Frost, Ice and Snow, Man
(to the tune of "Frosty the Snowman")


Frost, ice and snow, man,
Can turn jolly happy souls
Into lunatics who will flip their lids
When out of their drives they pull.

Frost, ice and snow, man,
Are not fairy tales, okay?
When you shovel snow
In the blowing cold
You'll be frozen for all day.

There must have been some moisture
In the arctic air that night
For when we woke up the next day
Road conditions were a fright.

Frost, ice and snow, man,
Are a drag as you can see.
When you start the car
Know you won't go far,
Before you slide right off the street.

Frost, ice and snow, man,
Kill your batteries all day.
So your car won't run
Forget having fun
While your savings melt away.

Down in the village
All the snowplows became stuck
Sliding here and there all around the square
All the drivers just said, "_ _ _ _!" *

If you venture down the streets of town
Avoid the traffic cop
He'll write you out a ticket when
You roll through a sign marked "STOP."

Frost, ice and snow, man,
Make me long for summertime
When the temps are warm
And the girls' forms
In bikinis all look fine.

* For the politically correct, substitute:
"All the drivers called tow trucks."

Monday, February 5, 2007

Cold snap

Something about today and its -3 degree low makes me nostalgic for the Chilly Willy theme song.

You remember Willy, the little cartoon penguin with the hat who was, as his name suggests, always cold? According to Wikipedia, he was the second most popular Walter Lantz Studio animated character, the most popular being Woody Woodpecker.

Anyway, here are Willy's ("Chill" to his friends) lyrics. Enjoy -- and stay warm!


I'm Chilly Willy the penguin.
I shake until I'm blue.
My head is hot and my feet are cold.
Ha...Hee...Hachoo!
Now what about the crocodiles along the river Nile?
I'll bet they're always warm as toast.
They always seem to smile.
I'm always Chilly Willy.
I'm frozen through and through.
My nose is red and my tale is told.
Ha...Hee...Hachoo!

Saturday, February 3, 2007

Beyond the River

Here is an excerpt from my review of "Beyond the River," this year's One Book One Community selection in Alliance. To read the entire review, see the Saturday (2/3/07) edition of The Alliance Review.

"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil," goes a quote attributed to Edmund Burke, "is for good men to do nothing."

We do not know if John Rankin was familiar with the saying, but we do know his life stands as a stirring testimony to a man who refused to stay silent about one of this country’s great evils, slavery.

Rankin, whose story is recounted in this year’s One Book One Community offering, "Beyond the River" by Ann Hagedorn, was a Presbyterian minister who helped hundreds, if not thousands, of blacks who had escaped across the Ohio River from the slave-holding state of Kentucky and onto the free shores of the Buckeye State.

Beyond his active involvement in the Underground Railroad, Rankin was a tireless campaigner for the cause of abolition. He traveled far from his beloved town of Ripley to deliver the message of emancipation in front of audiences both receptive and hostile.

A collection of his writings, "Rankin’s Letters on Slavery," was widely reprinted on both sides of the Atlantic, leading many others to catch the abolitionist bug. The letters, addressed to a brother who eventually freed his slaves as a result, made Rankin little or no money, but he allowed their wide dissemination -- and sometimes paid for printings out of his own pocket –- because they advanced the cause, not because he sought to augment his meager salaries as minister and president of Ripley College.

So influential was his writing that he is viewed as a spiritual father to many other abolitionists, including William Lloyd Garrison, publisher of the antislavery newspaper, The Liberator.

Hagedorn tells Rankin’s story in powerful, unflinching prose. He is the centerpiece of her meticulous research into a time when human beings were bought and sold as cattle, when slavers roamed the shores of the Ohio River to kidnap free men and drag them back into bondage, when the United States government was torn between the demands of slaveholders on one side and abolitionists on the other.

Thursday, February 1, 2007

Censors, unite!

Here is an excerpt from the print version of Left of Center, published in The Alliance Review every Thursday:

Oscar nominees were announced last week, but an independent film debuting at the Sundance Film Festival stole most of the headlines.

"Hounddog," filmed in North Carolina and starring Dakota Fanning, created controversy after the Christian Film and Television Commission claimed it violated federal child porn laws and the Catholic League called for a federal investigation.
Apparently, the scene in question depicts a teenager raping Fanning. Those who have seen it report no nudity and a darkly lit set, leaving a lot to viewers’ imaginations.

Credit Fanning, age 12, with having more sense than most of the film’s detractors. Speaking about the scene, she said, "It’s not really happening. It’s a movie, and it’s called acting. I'm not going through anything."

Perhaps a generation raised on the Marlon Brando school of method acting believes Fanning suffered mental and physical duress during filming. If so, she is bearing up well under the pressure.

To read the rest, check out today's Review, only 50 cents at area retailers, far less by subscription.

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Bad idea

Maybe they're just urban legends, but I've always heard stories about parents rushing children to the emergency room after they've swallowed small toys or pieces of toys. Little green army men, plastic beads, costume jewelry -- anything small enough to get down their throats becomes grist for the youthful digestive mill.

Usually, doctors adopt a wait and see attitude. After all, the piece has to come out sometime, and often does no harm while doing so. A recent episode of the Fox series "House" had the good doctor sticking a knife to the outside of a kid's tummy after the kid swallowed a refrigerator magnet.

Anyway, one of the most common "swallows" are the ubiquitous Legos, those colorful building blocks (kid DNA, almost) of the prepubescent set. They're small, attractively colored, and probably awfully tempting to a hungry toddler whose mom has told him he'll just have to wait for lunch.

So can I be the only person in the world who thinks it's a bad idea that somebody has decided to make Lego fruit snacks? I saw them on my supermarket shelf this week. They look just like Legos, but edible. (Well, at least as edible as those gummy little hunks of sugar can be.)

Doesn't it seem extraordinarily stupid to encourage kids to eat something that looks so similar to something they really shouldn't eat?

Leggo my Lego ... or something like that.

Monday, January 29, 2007

Watch that bleep

I read recently that an overzealous, inexperienced censor cut all instances of the word “God” out of an in-flight version of the movie “The Queen,” believing references to the deity, even in lines like, “God rest his soul,” to be expletives.

Hey, it might have offended somebody, yes?

I'm reminded of a recent song by a band called Panic at the Disco. A radio-edited version of their popular single omits the word "God" from "Goddamn," but leaves the "damn" intact. Odd.

When one starts slicing with the censor's blade, anything can happen. Leave it all in, I say, and trust the audience to steer clear of material it finds offensive. We don't need Big Brother to do it for us.

Friday, January 26, 2007

Pregnancy sells

File this under "Things that make you go hmmm."

An expectant mother in Chicago wants to trade ad space on her swollen tummy in exchange for two tickets to the Super Bowl.

According to the Associated Press, Jennifer Gordon's online advertisement reads, "I will agree to have your message painted on my belly visible to Super Bowl attendees and the millions of fans around the world who watch."

Now, call me old fashioned (call me anything you want, but just don't call me late to dinner), but is nothing sacred anymore? It seems to me that a mom-to-be's belly should be exempt from reading "Eat at Joe's" or "Valvoline" or "BOGO at Giant Eagle this week."

What's next? Expectant mothers promising to name their children after McDonald's or Nike in exchange for college scholarships? Trading tattoos on one's forehead for a house?

I guess you could see Gordon as an entrepreneur, and this is one way she can get to the Big Game for free, but it's kind of sad, all the same. Sadder still, she has about 45 offers -- and counting.

Hopefully, she won't have to paint a coupon on her stomach.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Halfway is no consolation

Here's an excerpt from my weekly printed column, which appears every Thursday in The Alliance Review:

I hate “half,” even though it gives many people comfort.

Folks who say they are halfway finished with a project or halfway through the school year or about half done cleaning the house drive me nuts. I hate hearing I am halfway to retirement or halfway through the workweek, too.

As if reaching the midpoint of anything is a milestone.

My hackles rise at the mention of half because whether you are happy or unhappy with what you are doing, the realization that you have as much behind you as before you is a letdown.

An example: Lately, my wife and I have been hitting the gym daily. Of course, we are not literally hitting it, although the thought of doing violence to a place where I exert myself so frequently has crossed my mind. If I were to do it any real damage, rest assured it would be with my car, not my fist.

If you want to read the rest, pony up your 50 cents at a news box or area store. You'll get all the day's news, too. What a bargain!

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

NCLB: Proceed with Caution

Take out all the clapping and standing, standing and clapping, and President Bush's State of the Union address Tuesday night can be read in minutes.

Early on in the proceedings, after he and Madame Speaker Nancy Palosi had finished their delicate dance and compliment session (in opposition to the stark words they've bandied about in the press), Bush began to air his laundry list of changes.

Among them, he urged Congress to re-authorize the No Child Left Behind law, which has proven to be one of the largest unfunded mandates in the history of education.

While Bush cited rising test scores as proof that NCLB works, I have a different take. Test scores are going up because schools are teaching to the test, keenly aware that failure to do so will result in loss of funding and severe sanctions that will make the job of educating America's schoolchildren even more difficult.

It would be different if everything a child needed to know for future success was included on these tests. But it isn't. What America's teachers (I am one) are doing is creating a generation of kids who know how to take pencil and paper exams, but who are just as woefully unprepared for the challenges of higher education and the workforce, where creative thinking and independent problem solving are requirements, as past generations.

What the tests have "proven" is what any thinking person already knew: Students in affluent school districts outperform students in poorer districts. There are many reasons why this is so, and they, like the results, are self-evident.

And while Bush never uttered the word "vouchers," his call to make it easier for kids to transfer out of low-performing schools and districts is exactly that: the voucher program, similar if not identical to the one Ohio legislators keep trying to ram down our throats, despite overwhelming evidence that our kids and parents don't want it.

Allowing kids to transfer out of these so-called "low performing" buildings means that such schools will operate with even smaller revenues than before, making it that much more difficult for them to reach arbitrary federal goals for improvement.

Bush urged Congress to re-authorize. Let's hope members take a long hard look at modifications that need to be made before forcing kids into further rounds of senseless, high-stakes testing, and districts into another cycle of punitive, unfair sanctions for failing to meet the mark.

For more about how an emphasis on testing is failing our kids, read "In Schools We Trust" by Deborah Meier and "Schools Without Failure" by William Glasser. Too bad our politicians haven't read them.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Mars Attacks!

One of the neatest things about the Internet is it allows material to be published that might never see the light of day otherwise.

For example, an interview I had with Len Brown has been rotting on my hard drive for five years -- until today. Brown was one of the guiding forces behind MARS ATTACKS, a 55-card trading set released in 1962 by Topps, the company famous for baseball cards.

MARS ATTACKS rocketed to notoriety by featuring painted depictions of a brutal alien invasion. Some of the images were pretty strong stuff for a set of cards aimed at kids, and after some backlash from the public, Topps abandoned its plans to release the cards nationally. Thus was a collector's item born.

While the original set of trading cards sells for prices far beyond my means, a reprint edition that came out around the time of Tim Burton's generally disappointing film version is much more affordable. Best of all, that series included new cards painted by Zina Saunders, daughter of Norm Saunders, who painted the 55 originals.

The interview with Brown was phenomenal, but only a small handful of his quotes appeared in my sidebar story timed for release around the time of M. Night Shyamalan's SIGNS. I always hoped to someday find a home for Brown's comments, which were (and are) probably of interest to MARS ATTACKS fanatics.

If you're predisposed to like things like this...



...then click here to read the interview in its entirety.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Beware the slizzle

I added a word to my weather lexicon today: Slizzle.

It refers to a combination of sleet and drizzle. Apparently, that explanation is too long winded for breezy television weather forecasters. Slizzle is what fell Sunday night in my area, leading to slippery roads and lots of school children's (and more than a few teachers') dreams of a day without class.

If you Google slizzle, beware. It is also urban slang for something you won't want to mention in front of grandma, even if she's really cool.

Slizzle, in the weather sense, accomplished its mission in parts of northeast Ohio, where many schools canceled today. It was less successful here in Stark County, where one might be tempted to say that slizzle fizzled.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Annoyingly effective

Head On, apply directly to the forehead.
Head On, apply directly to the forehead.
Head On, apply directly to the forehead.

Maybe the only commercials more annoying are the new Head On segments, where the Tourette's-like slogan above is interrupted by people telling the company how annoying its commercials are, but how great its product is.

I bet a lot of Head On is being sold, despite (or probably because of) these asinine spots. In an widely circulated article, "The Language of Advertising Claims," Jeffrey Schrank wrote, "Ads are designed to have an effect while being laughed at, belittled, and all but ignored." He also notes:


"A person unaware of advertising's claim on him or her is precisely the one most defenseless against the ad writer's attack. Advertisers delight in an audience which believes ads to be harmless nonsense, for such an audience is rendered defenseless by its belief that there is no attack taking place." *

The makers of Head On have taken that philosophy to daring new heights -- or lows. You might say you buy the product in spite of the commercials, but chances are good the product came to your attention because of them.

*The examples in Schrank's article are a little dated, but the information about weasel words, puffery, and other persuasive techniques is still spot on. To read an online copy, click here.

Friday, January 19, 2007

The "Secret"

Some people have been asking if I have a weight loss secret.

Since late November, my wife and I have lost a fair amount of weight - about 30 and 34 pounds, respectively. People want to know if there is a special pill or diet that has accomplished this, something that makes weight loss easy.

I wish there were.

Our three "secrets" are:

1. We gave up colas and all other caffeinated drinks.
2. We eat only about 1,200 calories a day. (I stick between 1,200 and 1,400.)
3. We go to the gym daily.

No cabbage-only diets. No belly fat medicines or miracle machines "as seen on TV." Just hard work. In the beginning, we used one of those digest-sized books that list the calorie content of virtually everything, but I bet we haven't looked at it in over a month. Now that we know what's good and what's not, we eat to maximize the calories we're allowed. This means no snack foods and no super-sized portions.

The good news is that if a schlep like me can do it, anybody can. But nobody can tell you it's time. That's something you have to decide for yourself. Once you commit, the rest is -- well, not easy, but at least easier.

The hard part comes when you have to keep the weight off. And there is no secret that makes that any easier, either.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Quick reads

Through experience, I have learned to always keep a book nearby for downtime at the doctor’s office or while waiting to shuttle my daughter to and from a school event.

Not just any book will do. It has to be broken into small chunks that can be digested relatively quickly, interesting enough to pass the time for 15 or 20 minutes, but not so enthralling that you are loathe to put it down.

Not every book meets those criteria.

For a while, a little paperback collection of great American short stories fit the bill quite nicely, but eventually I worked my way through all the stories I wanted to read and I was loathe to dip back into some for a second helping. (Great stories reward rereading, of course, but sometimes I like the shock of the new, too.)

My two latest waiting room readers are “The Good, the Bad, and the Mad” by E. Randall Floyd and “The 101 Most Influential People Who Never Lived” by Allan Lazar, Dan Karlan and Jeremy Salter.


The first is a collection of real-life eccentrics or peddlers of the odd, including Harry Houdini, Madame Blavatsky, and Robert E. Howard. The brief biographies are perfect for reading on the run, and I have learned some interesting things: P.T. Barnum shot to fame exploiting a little black woman who claimed to be the 161-year-old nurse of George Washington, and Edgar Cayce was a photographer who lost his voice but gained the ability to diagnose any illness – in his sleep!


The second book is a collection of fictional characters culled from myth, Americana, movies, and literature. It includes brief essays on Uncle Sam, King Kong, the Marlboro Man, and the Loch Ness Monster. The characters are also ranked by influence, and the fictional entity that comes in at number one might surprise you. (Mum’s the word on my end, though – you will have to pick the book up to see who “wins.”)

I am always on the lookout for the next good time killer, so if you have any suggestions, please send them along.

Monday, January 15, 2007

Takes a licking and keeps on ticking

The Doomsday Clock is ticking again.

Its timekeepers, the publishers of the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists, have announced they will move the clock's hands on Wednesday to reflect "nuclear ambitions in Iran and North Korea, unsecured nuclear materials in Russia and elsewhere, the continuing 'launch-ready' status of 2,000 of the 25,000 nuclear weapons held by the U.S. and Russia, escalating terrorism, and new pressure from climate change for expanded civilian nuclear power that could increase proliferation risks," according to a press release.

Currently, the hands of the clock are at seven minutes till midnight. When the clock strikes twelve, to quote Prince, "party over / oops, out of time."

Whenever I think of the Doomsday Clock, I can't help but think of one of its most chilling pop-culture applications on the back covers of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' "Watchmen" comic book series. There, each issue featured a clock (not necessarily THE clock, but given the subject matter of the book, it more than likely was) moving one minute closer to midnight with each chapter, and blood oozing down the page to engulf the timepiece, which it eventually does in the final image. Here's a look from issue 10:



Scary, huh? And while the real clock may be purely symbolic, the symbol isn't a very positive one for our world.

Friday, January 12, 2007

Hot for Teacher, not so hot for Rock Hall

Earlier this week, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame announced its inductees into the class of 2007. Included were hard-rock band Van Halen, who hit it big in the 1980s with a string of platinum albums and radio-friendly songs.

Guitarist Eddie Van Halen reinvented guitar playing for an entire generation. Not since Hendrix had anybody rocked harder or with more innovation. Listen to the opening of "Eruption" off the band's self-titled debut or most of his solos through the album "1984" and you'll hear an artist breaking all the rules and shredding paint off the walls with the power of his licks.

Lead singer David Lee Roth presided over all this three-chord power with the grace of a carnival barker, but his yelps and gurgles endeared him to audiences. Too bad all that energy didn't translate to radio, where his attempt to replace Howard Stern last year was a failure.

My own era of Van Halen came a little later, when Roth had left the band for a solo career and was replaced with rocker Sammy Hagar. Their first album together, "5150," is one of my favorites, and while most critics agree that Eddie's playing went a little flat around that time, it still sounded mighty fine to my 18-year-old ears.

While I applaud the Rock Hall's decision to induct the band, I still can't applaud the rock hall. First of all, the powers-that-be continue to hold the induction ceremony in New York City, a slap in the face to Cleveland and all northeast Ohio music fans. Secondly, and more personally, they have ignored my favorite artist, Alice Cooper.

In the late 60s and early seventies, Alice Cooper the band had an incredible run of albums that are generally considered classics of the genre. The five-man band, led by the singer with the same name, uncorked a string of classics that still receive repeated airplay today -- "School's Out," "Under My Wheels," "No More Mr. Nice Guy," and "Billion Dollar Babies" among them. When the band separated in 1975, Cooper went solo with another string of hit albums, including the seminal "Welcome to My Nightmare." Cooper the band and Cooper the man introduced theatrics to rock and roll, and many a later rocker credits the band for inspiring music and visusals.

But from the Rock Hall, stony silence.

Until it starts inducting in Cleveland and until it honors Alice Cooper, who still releases albums and tours incessantly, I'm boycotting the entire organization.

Even though I really like Van Halen.

Monday, January 8, 2007

The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference

I am not watching the big Ohio State game, which is now booming through the speakers on the television downstairs.

I may be the only person in Ohio who isn't. This is not to say I don't like the Buckeyes, or that I don't wish them well.

I like the team just fine, and I hope they win, just as I wish all local, regional and state teams are successful. But I have no stake in the outcome.

If Ohio State wins, will I get an extra day off work? No. Will I somehow come into large sums of cash previously unguessed at by somebody with my meager bank account?Again, no.

Minus these two incentives, I'm not interested enough to watch "the big game." At least the Super Bowl, which I am equally equivocal about but still sometimes watch, has fun commercials.

But I like the idea of Columbus-area businesses serving gator meat, something I heard about on National Public Radio this morning. Even if it is really just chicken in disguise.

Sunday, January 7, 2007

Let's Play the Feud!

Sometimes, viewers think of deep questions while watching TV. This isn't one of those times.

I wonder if anybody else is curious about "Family Feud" survey questions that go unanswered after a family wins the game. I mean, somebody went to the trouble of surveying 100 studio audience members to learn opinions about burning issues like "Name a day of the week" or "Name one reason drivers slow down."

But once a family reaches 200 points in the finale of the show, we never see the rest of the answers given by the second family member, the poor sap who was sealed in a soundproof booth while the first family member answered the same questions.

My wife says I'm nuts to even wonder such a thing, that once a family reaches 200 points nobody really cares how many more they might have earned.

I take offense to that. I'm somebody, and I want to know.

(Note here that I'm talking about the original Family Feud with host Richard Dawson that airs on Game Show Network. If the new version is still on the air, I don't watch it, nor do I know if they have corrected this oversight. But I hope they have.)

Friday, January 5, 2007

Betty and Veronica's new look

Last week in my print column, I wrote about changes being made to classic Archie Comics characters Betty and Veronica. Enough readers expressed an interest in this "new look" that I've posted a link here.

While Betty and Veronica have been around since Archie was created in the 1940s, their "timeless" look emerged rather organically, led by artistic giant Dan DeCarlo in the 1950s and 1960s. Over the years, their appearance has changed subtly, but nothing like the face lift they're scheduled to receive in the spring.

If you think the new look makes them look retro-skanky, you'll get no argument from me.

While I'm on the subject of comic books and comic strips, I was surprised (but delighted) to see that Stan Lee, co-creator of Spider-Man and the Fantastic Four, made the list of "Top Living Influential Americans" in the December issue of The Atlantic. He came in at number 26, tied with Bill Cosby.

"With great power comes great responsibility." You'd better believe it.

Wednesday, January 3, 2007

Pumped for the Almanac

I'm in the minority here, but I actually get excited when a new almanac is released.

The World Almanac and Book of Facts 2007 has been on the stands for several months. Usually, I snap up a new almanac as soon as it's published, but this year I waited to see if Santa would drop it down my chimney. He did.

I had previously been a Time Almanac man, so this is my first experience with the World product. I like it. I'm disappointed the publishers didn't wait a few more weeks and include results from November's election, but all that is available on the book's website and will of course be included in the 2008 edition.

Where else can you find, in one book, a listing of all four-year colleges and universities in the U.S., population figures by state and county, a list of the world's tallest buildings, Olympic champions dating back to 1924, and statistics for every sort of crime and disease imaginable?

I look something up daily. Today, for example, I learned that the editors consider Pres. George H. W. Bush's vomiting on the prime minister of Japan in 1992 the most embarrassing presidential moment of the last 35 years. (Bush II's impromptu shoulder massage to the German Chancellor in July came in at number 5).

See, learning can be fun. Who knows when this stuff might turn up on Jeopardy?

Tuesday, January 2, 2007

Ford funeral

NBC newsman Tom Brokaw was the best of the eulogists speaking at the funeral of President Gerald R. Ford.

Not only was his delivery excellent, but Brokaw also followed the advice of many writing and oratory teachers: He offered specifics, not just generalities. Brokaw shared a story of a slap-happy newsman who wore a chicken head to a Ford speech (and, much to Ford's delight, upstaged him) and sketched with words a portrait of Ford relaxing with a pipe. Both brought a sense of humanity to a mere mortal who is quickly being canonized by the press and public.

Bush Sr. offered the worst speech, but he does get high marks for the service's most surreal moment: Doing an imitation of Dana Carvey imitating George Bush. Bizarre.

Small Screen Intrigue

I've spent the last four days in a world where some of the government's highest ranking officials are corrupt, terrorists lurk on every corner, and secret government agencies operate without regard for constitutionally protected freedoms.

Some might call that reality. I call it "24: Season Five."

If you have watched the Fox TV series starring Kiefer Sutherland, you don't need me to tell you how addictive it is. If you haven't, you're missing one of television's greatest thrill rides as Counter Terrorist Unit agent Jack Bauer (Sutherland) races a real-time clock to foil the schemes of spies, government moles, and terrorists.

This season was the best yet, with a mortality rate so high it wiped out most of the previous seasons' regulars and a cliffhanger ending that sets the stage for Season Six, scheduled to begin Jan. 14.

I start each season by watching regularly, but by the time I misprogram my VCR, forget about an episode or two, or get bogged down with other things, I lose the continuity threads and fall off the viewing wagon. Luckily, my wife has made it a tradition to give me each season on DVD for Christmas, so I catch up in one long weekend of watching.

That's what I did over the New Year's Eve weekend, ending with episode 24 right after Dick Clark did the countdown and ushered in 2007.

Recently, Stephen King noted in his Entertainment Weekly column that, while motion pictures may be in decline, television is as good as it has ever been. Shows like "Lost" and "24" are part of the reason why.

Monday, January 1, 2007

Lucas Marches

New Year's Day, and the annual Rose Bowl Parade has been taken over by the evil empire.
The empire in question belongs to George Lucas, creator of Star Wars, who served as grand marshal. His escorts were scores of stormtroopers, the white-garbed foot soldiers in the war against the Rebellion.
The Rose Bowl stormtroopers were actually Star Wars fans who auditioned for the roles. I didn't learn about this until it was too late; otherwise, I might have thrown my hat (or light saber) into the ring and auditioned for a spot.
According to MS NBC, the fans selected for the honor spent time learning how to precision march. Nobody likes a sloppy storm trooper. They also met Lucas when the big man himself reviewed the troops prior to the parade.
Maybe it's best I wasn't there. I'm not sure I could have resisted the temptation to ask Georgie what the heck went wrong with his last three movies, which were as boring and pointless as the first three were thrilling and poignant.
The first trilogy was a cornerstone of my childhood and added Darth Vader, R2D2, C3PO, Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia, Han Solo and Chewbacca to the annals of pop culture. The last three gave us ... Jar Jar Binks?
Mesa think there's somethin mighty unbalanced there.