Life as an Extreme Sport

Author: Kelly

Music Monday: John Hughes Ruined My Expectations of Life

life and living

Like, I suspect, many creative-types, I do my best work if there’s music on. (Although I have recently discovered that I do better photography if I’m listening to Greg Proops’ The Smartest Man in the World podcasts. Probably because I dance less, laugh more.) And of course, different music brings about different writing moods. What I listen to when I’m polishing is not the same music I listen to when I’m creating.

When I’m creating, by far the best music is that of the 80s. 80s power ballads. 80s anthems. Hair metal, rock, gangsta rap – chances are pretty good if it was played on the radio in the 1980s, I not only know it, but can sing the entire song at a moment’s notice. (I’ve often wondered what better use I could have put that brain space to – can you imagine?)

Of course, you really can’t have 80s music without talking about the influence of John Hughes, because music made his movies. And unfortunately, I think they rather ruined me on what to expect out of life. (Those of you pausing to do the math, relax. Although I am the oldest of my siblings, I was not that precocious as a kid. I had older uncles living with me, closer in age to a sibling than a parent. They exposed me to much of the 80s earlier than I would have encountered it on my own.) Because in every John Hughes movie, there’s that moment where the song overwhelms the story, and everyone starts singing or dancing or standing outside a window with a boombox and heart, the pretty quiet girl gets the dress, dance, or guy, and the saxophone underscores everything.

I’ve had this conversation with one of the Television Without Pity writers before; she maintains that no one who lives in real life dances down the street, or has people spontaneously break into song around them, or any of the other tropes that became tropes because they showed up in a John Hughes movie.

Which is probably why I love working at MilkBoy Coffee so much. Because sitting here, when the 80s music is on, all the people quietly doing their work, job search, or studying will start tapping their foot, nodding their head, and quietly singing along. Voices Carry, indeed. That, of course, is not so odd or unusual.

But having the entire coffee shop break out into song as one of the baristas jumped on the stage to loudly sing the chorus of Beds Are Burning?

That just confirms that I’m not the only one who thinks life should be a John Hughes movie.

Will Glitter Change the World?

Politics

One of the longer-running arguments my ex-husband and I had was whether or not change comes from someone working within the system, or from outside the system. I always envisioned the illustration of the argument being one of whether or not it’s better to work from inside a fortified city to open the gates via persuasion and education, or if trying to use grappling hooks and rams to force the gates open was the better – more successful – option. I suspect the bias in the envisioning clues you in to which side I (often passionately) argued.

Reading the news this afternoon made me think of that, again, as I read that a GLBTQ activist glitterbombed Michelle Bachmann this weekend. Gingrich and Pawlenty have also been glitterbombed in recent weeks. In all cases, the activists were apparently trying to draw attention to the GOP candidates stance on GLBTQ rights, and in particular the civil right to marriage.

Which leads me to wonder: is there anyone out there who doesn’t know where these people stand on GLBTQ rights?

It’s a rhetorical question, but I’m going to answer it anyways.

Bachmann, Pawlenty, and Gingrich (just to focus on the GOP potentiates who have been glitterbombed) have all been extremely outspoken in their lack of support for GLBTQ rights. They are claiming to be social conservatives who are basing their campaign runs on two major tentpoles of social conservatism: denying GLBTQ couples basic civil rights, including the right to marry, and denying women the right of choice over their own bodies. Their positions are known, in part because they stand on the metaphorical street corner with a bullhorn, shouting as loudly as they can.

So if the activism is not education – and it’s not – then what is it? An attempt for media attention? Trying to humiliate the candidate by covering them in glitter? A misguided attempt to sway other people?

Well, if it’s a strategy to bring media attention to the glitterbombee, it worked. But is this the case that any media coverage is good media coverage? Not really, and that ties in to the other two questions. All media coverage of a candidate being glitterbombed will do is reinforce beliefs on either side of the debate. People who are anti-gay marriage aren’t going to find being covered in glitter humiliating – glitter, believe it or not, has a long and storied life well beyond gay clubs, starting with finger paints and toddlers. These candidates all have kids; they probably all know foolproof ways of rapid deglittering. And covering candidates in glitter is not going to sway voters – it’s going to reinforce positions. Those who are anti-gay will see disrespect, noise, and more proof that “these people are not civilized.” Those who are in favour of civil rights will continue to be in favour of civil rights, and perhaps moderately amused; that’s preaching to the converted, though.

The thing that got me, though, was realizing that these activists – many of them, anyhow – do seem to think that they are making a point and swaying positions. It’s a clash of civilizations beyond what Huntington imagined; The activists seem to see this as an extension of the 80s rallying cry of “we’re here and we’re queer; get used of it.” But Bachmann and her ilk know that gay people exist, and believe it’s a mental disorder that requires curing. They know gay folks are out there, just like they know schizophrenics are out there, and in that particular fundangelical worldview, both are diseases that require treatment and medication to cure. Throwing glitter on someone is not likely to change the impression that being gay is a mental illness that requires treatment.

Counting the Coverage: The Daily Show and Dicks*

...and everything else, American Idol, Politics, Pop Culture, The Daily Show, Tilting at Windmills

For the past week plus, there have been rumblings in the blogosphere that Jon Stewart has not done enough to mock, slam, satirize, or otherwise shame New York Rep. Anthony Weiner, and the charge is two-fold: Stewart won’t because Weiner is a Democrat, and Stewart won’t because they were, for a time, college roommates, and have remained friends.

The charge that Stewart isn’t as hard on Democrats largely and unsurprisingly comes from conservative commentators (feel free to read “FOX News and fans” here); Stewart and The Daily Show shot to prominence in a post-9/11 world, and a lot of viewers (and/or detractors) didn’t have the experience of Clinton years for context. And it can be a bit hard to compare administrations against one another – it’s rare that political situations are ever similar enough that an apples to apples comparison can be done. (And this would be one of the reasons you literally get apple to apple comparisons on The Daily Show – it’s easier to show Rand Paul being a hypocrite and why than it is to try to show contrasting clips across different administrations.)

But for good or bad (and/or “reasons I moved out of New York state”), the Weiner “scandal” is something that has an almost direct one-to-one correlation: NY Rep. Chris Lee, Republican, who resigned in February after emails and a shirtless photo were sent to a woman in response to a Craigslist dating advertisement.

Now, clearly these situations are not precisely parallel. While Lee and Weiner are both married men, Weiner (so far) has not been caught trying to lie about his identity or do more than send photos that were in bad (or at least juvenile) taste**. Lee, on the other hand, a self-described “classy guy”, lied about being a divorced lobbyist (and his age and other such things). He was looking for more, and the young lady involved wasn’t interested in liars. A quick Google search confirmed her suspicions; one eMail to Gawker later and Cuomo was holding a special election in Western New York.

So, not identical, but really damn close. Clearly the best thing to do, then, is to directly compare the coverage of these two events on The Daily Show. Now, Lee resigned Wednesday the 9th of February, which I believe was a dark week for The Daily Show. There is, of course, a problem here with a news cycle moving quickly, but surely something of such magnitude would be mentioned, right? After all, it’s a Republican resigning over a sex scandal, and given how “easy” Stewart has been on Weiner this past week and change, it’s inevitable that the Chris Lee resignation would be stretched out over several days.

Or, well. One.

Segment.

On February 15th. That was interrupted by John Oliver’s need to discuss the Harry Baals government center in Indiana. You can view it here.

Note the similarities: jokes about the fitness of the representative, R.Kelly-esque R&B music with Stewart grooving in his chair. There’s even John Oliver involvement. But it was an entire “scandal” covered in approximately 2.5 minutes, highlighting the fact that Lee got lucky – he resigned the same day the Egyptian Revolution started. Lucky guy – the media was largely distracted.

Do I really need to compare the time dedicated to Weiner versus Lee, at this point? No, but I will anyhow.

The “event” begins on the night of May 27th, a Friday. While The Daily Show doesn’t film on Friday, rather coincidentally, they were dark that final week of May, as well. This means a lot of material to come back to on Monday – eerily similar to the Chris Lee scandal. The Daily Show even begins coverage on May 31st, a Tuesday. And this is how it breaks down:
May 3st, Tuesday: 6 minutes, 51 seconds
June 1st, Wednesday: 2 minutes, 59 seconds
June 2nd, Thursday: 4 minutes, 10 seconds, as well as an additional 2 minutes, 57 seconds and 2 minutes, 22 seconds.
June 6th, Monday: 4 minutes, 4 seconds
And for the most recent episode, Tuesday the 7th of June, we have:
5 minutes, 55 seconds
2 minutes, 49 seconds
4 minutes, 46 seconds

And that is not including several Moments of Zen.

Now, math has never been my strong suit, and even less so at nearly 6am. Nonetheless, it would seem that math is rather firmly on the side of “Weiner’s received far more coverage than Lee”, even though Weiner is actually a friend.

Any way you try to slice it, Stewart has given more time and attention and mocking disbelief to his friend than he did a Republican representative in nearly the same situation. 34 more minutes of time, just to be exceedingly precise.

*Metaphorical or otherwise.

**Have you met the internet? Let me introduce you to it, where everyone under the age of 35 has done at least one stupid thing involving it, and many, many people have done many stupid things involving body parts typically best only seen through the haze of beer and dim light.

Tuna Tuesday: Times You Don’t Want to Wash a Cat

...and everything else

“Hey, Kelly? Weren’t you supposed to start writing about a week ago, give or take?”

“Why yes, Anonymous Internet Voice, I was!”

“Well, you didn’t. Why not?”

“It’s a bit of a story, Anonymous Internet Voice, but pull up a virtual chair and I’ll tell you all about it…”

Okay, cutesy conceit dropped, but the point remains. I was supposed to write. I didn’t write. What the hell happened to writing? Well, a record heatwave for this early in the season turned me into a puddle of Not Doing. I don’t have central air in my apartment, and only my bedroom has A/C. (In this photo, Toledo is helpfully illustrating that it’s so hot all his bones melted.)

In fact, it was so hot that, when I wasn’t trying to keep myself cool, I was trying to cool down the cats.
However, I discovered that a wet clothe on the back, much like a leash, leaves kitties forgetting how to walk. So Zeus went for the Supercat look, instead. Very chic.

When the heat finally abated, I found myself suffering the usual side effects someone with a chronic nerve pain condition finds themself in after a 45 degree temperature shift in less than two days: pain. That pain manifested itself Sunday in a migraine, and I spent much of Sunday night throwing up. Because bathrooms are always, always cool refuges of icy tile – and why is that? The rest of your apartment can be an oven, but laying on that bathroom tile is like large paving stones of ice. But I digress. I was in the bathroom retching, and Zeus was in the bathroom with me. Zeus was very concerned – and oh, how sweet, I thought.

Silly me.

Zeus was concerned, yes. He was apparently concerned that I was hiding food or something from him, because during one of the moments I wasn’t holding on to the toilet for dear life, he stuck his head into the toilet to see what was going on. Now this, in itself, may have been fine – if I had been done vomiting.

I, however, was not.

And that’s how I found myself, late Sunday night, washing a cat while every tilt of the head or shift of the shoulder made waves of nausea roll through me. This was not on my list of things I wanted to do…ever.

Aside from mildly wounded dignity and irritation at a fierce ear-cleaning Monday morning, Zeus is fine. I got a healthy amount of sleep the last two nights, and am largely feeling better. Does that mean I’ll be better about posting? Probably not for another week – we’re heading into a heat wave that makes last week look like winter, and my poor, going to die in the heatwave, father, is coming to visit at the end of this week. The savvy reader might well point out that we’re rolling in to summer, when the heat is going to get worse and more frequent, to which I can only say point to you, and hopefully habit eventually wins out.

Speaking to History

...and everything else

The NASA announcer got a bit poetic welcoming Endeavour home this evening – and why not? How often do you go into a situation knowing that you’re speaking to history? Most of the time, we recognize history in hindsight, and it’s pieced together from the banal comments and reactions that were of the time.

But not this time. This time, everyone knew that this was it. This was the 25th and final flight for Endeavour, the penultimate landing for the entire US space shuttle program. History. She has spent 299 days in space, orbited Earth 4,671 times, and traveled 122,883,151 miles. Everything about this was historic – so why not take a minute to wax poetic, not only to the returning astronauts and watching and listening viewers, but to whomever will be writing this history down, in some future history of the space program book? If nothing else, the act of speaking the words put them to paper (and print and digital and all sorts of media, I’m sure), archiving them for future curious souls.

“It’s sad to see her land for the last time, but she really has a great legacy.” -Commander Mark Kelly