My favorite pie chart of all time (in honor of Pi Day):
Category: Celebrities
Amazing, Awesome, Incredible
I don’t normally post about shows like The Voice, but trilby-wearing, elf-faced Josh Kaufman blew me away last night. And, no, he’s not hot. He’s just good.
A few notes into George Michael’s “One More Try,” Adam Levine turned his big red chair around in approval. Indiana native Josh was already nailing it. The truth is it’s hard for me to think of any song off that 1988 Faith cassette without picturing the former Wham! frontman in his ripped jeans and scruffy five o’clock shadow, shaking his rump and pretending to be into Asian women. It’s often hard to separate the artist from the song.
It’s kind of like how every December, the radio stations and department stores put George Michael’s “Last Christmas” on high rotation, and I can’t enjoy it as a holiday song, because I keep picturing him in public toilets, soliciting sex from policemen and being foolish enough to get caught. Kind of ruins the whole Christmas spirit.
So for Josh Kaufman to be able to belt the song out in a new and soulful way, devoid of all that Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou baggage, was refreshing. Once you’re sick of a song, you’re usually sick of it forever. I’m talking to you, “Red Red Wine.” But Josh infused this ballad with new life.
As he continued to sing it, I feared he wouldn’t be able to hit the money note, “Hold you, touch YOU-OOOOO,” but he did. In spades.
Adam Levine’s comment to Josh once he finished: “Damn.”
Agreed.
Share A Square
Whatever outrages you the most in this shot determines your character.
- For me, it’s clearly Ottoman Head in the middle bottom row. I could plant my rump on that hair and sit a spell.
- For others, it may be the fact that these members of the Sachem Literary Society (and there were two pages of them) were all dressed in minks. Maybe you don’t like the top of the food chain to wear coats made of the animals at the bottom. I will say I wouldn’t mind wrapping myself in one right now during this frosty season, especially since those minks died around 1964. I’m just saying Nature provides for a bi-polar vortex, that’s all.
- If you were my cousin, your jaw would be dropping in a WTH response at poor Mary and Martha Russell being shoved into one frame to share it. And it’s not as though there wasn’t space on the page. There is an entire 3″x7″ blank spot right next to this–plenty of room for any sets of twins to have their own unshared portrait and own unique identity. What was the thinking on the part of the editorial staff here? Well, they look the same, so why bother taking two pictures? Who needs to see that face twice?
Perhaps I’m being presumptive; perhaps it was their own idea. Maybe they feel a connection as twins and wanted a “group” shot. Or perhaps they are really Siamese conjoined twins, unable to separate, much less turn around and face each other. Like the two women below. But even if that were the case, I don’t understand why they couldn’t take a picture of each woman and crop the other out. They shouldn’t have to share a square. Or a rectangle, as it were.
I should end the post right here. But dangit, I can’t. Conjoined twins are fascinating. So I’m going to go off on a tangent. Close this out if you are in a hurry.
Don’t you have questions about their hygiene, marriage, clothing, sleeping conditions–things all the unconjoined of us take for granted? I do. Imagine sitting right where you are, typing on your laptop with a person attached to you. And he has to use the restroom. Or he’s hungry. Or he has a fever, which you may well soon get.
Quick history lesson on the Carolina Twins above: Millie McCoy and Christine McCoy (July 11, 1851 – October 8, 1912) were born to slaves, and sold by their owner, Jabez McKay, at TEN MONTHS of age to a South Carolina man, who agreed to pay McKay a percentage of the earnings he made, exhibiting them at state fairs. The “two-headed nightingale” was sold twice more until 1863, when it/they earned their freedom. But don’t be sad; a wealthy merchant named Joseph Smith reunited the girls with their mother, Monemia. Mr. Smith and his wife then provided the twins with an education and taught them to speak five languages, dance, play music, and sing (thanks,wikipedia).
Eventually, they bought the plantation where their parents had originally worked as slaves. They still exhibited themselves, but on their own terms.
What still bothers me on this license is the fact that they are referred to as a “two-headed woman” named Millie Christine, instead of two separate people. They are actually two women, not one woman. Two brains, two hearts, two souls with separate thoughts and emotions. Now you see where Full House got the idea to bill “Mary Kate Ashley Olson” as one person, instead of giving credit to both actresses.
Perhaps that billing contributed to the mystique of the commodity they were selling. Perhaps they were only counted as one person on the census. Whatever the reason, I’m certain that Hayley Mills would not have approved.
P.S. I found the Russell twins on another page in the yearbook. Not conjoined.
I Don’t Eat Tail
My son’s elementary school calendar this month includes a president’s favorite food for each day of the month. Today the president named is Dwight D. Eisenhower, who enjoyed oxtail soup. Though I have heard of it, I have never seen hide nor hair of such a soup, not in a person’s home or in a restaurant. Have you ever tried it?
I visited the Food Network’s site to investigate. Apparently, “the oxtail was once really from an ox but nowadays the term generally refers to beef or veal tail. Though it’s quite bony, this cut of meat is very flavorful. Because it can be extremely tough (depending on the age of the animal), oxtail requires long, slow braising.”
Based on this information, I’m going to have to pass. I don’t eat tail, however flavorful. It’s hard enough for me to stomach dark meat chicken or the fatty part of a brisket; I doubt I would have the patience to gnaw away at a tough tail. I do admit the vegetables look delicious.
In any event, it is a common dish in the U.K., and there is even a fellow WordPresser who has provided a recipe for oxtail stew. He goes so far as to say, “All those odd bits, wobbly bits and squidgy bits have such an amazing range of textures and flavours.” A shiver just ran down my spine. I think he would do quite well to travel with the adventurous Andrew Zimmern, who forced poor Adam Richman into eating lutefisk on yesterday’s episode of Man vs. Food. Andrew loves squidgy bits.
Tomorrow’s president is Ulysses S. Grant, who liked to eat turkey. Now that one I get. And apparently, Ike liked it, too.
Hurdles, Not Girdles
Ever since I saw Danny Zuko in sweatpants, I knew track guys were hot. He didn’t need his T-Birds leather jacket to be cool.
Can’t you sense the confidence exuding off these fit and flexible track and field guys?
Before the Information Age, young folks enjoyed testing the limits of their bodies, pushing their muscles, striving for fitness goals, and enjoying the sun and wind on their skin. Even if they were sore afterward.
Nowadays, not so much. There are screens to be stared at, video games to be played, and processed, enriched grub void of nutrients to be consumed. Plus, sometimes outside is uncomfortable. Forget that. Inside is always 72 degrees.
Come on, morbidly obese kids, you can do it! Get up off of that couch. If this 74-year-old New Zealand man can do it, so can you! He did this AFTER he kicked cancer’s butt. So kick your own fat butt and get moving.
Otherwise, you’ll have a lifetime of physical and emotional hurdles ahead of you. I know you lack the energy to seize the day, but for the love of all that is holy, put the Hot Cheetos and Takis down. Toss them in the trash! Say hello to fitness and good-bye to Husky jeans!
A Dar And A D’Oh
“Okay, you guys, I’m gonna take the picture at the count of three. One. Two. Three…Inez, what the hell?”
Let’s speculate on things Inez could be doing:
- Sneezing (but she looks too calm)
- Running the scales (save that for choir)
- That thing you’ve been thinking since you first saw it
- Mimicking the mating call of the sea lion
- Calling Kanye West out on the fact that he said he was leaving the country and, Damn Smokey, he’s still here.
A Black And White Woody
I doubt any young man would want to be saddled with the nickname of Woody in this day and age. But in days of yore, it was not uncommon. Most of you remember Woody Woodpecker.
Or this naive, young bartender, Huckleberry Woodrow Tiberius “Woody” Boyd, from Cheers, played by a man named Woody in real life.
Other famous Woodies include folk singer Woody “This Land Is My Land” Guthrie, and Woody Allen, the director/screenwriter who destroyed any of his cred by marrying his stepdaughter (yes, she was, for all practical purposes) Soon-Yi, who is 37 years his junior. Gross, Woody. You disgust me. And I never liked Annie Hall. But I do like this picture. Or half of it, at least.
I wonder if folks called former president, Woodrow Wilson, by his full name? Can you name one fact about this president?
He was actually one of the four presidents who have been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. He received his in 1919 for founding the League of Nations, the predecessor to the United Nations. You probably know Obama somehow nabbed one as well, but so did Theodore Roosevelt and Jimmy Carter. But I want to leave you with a more upbeat woody–this one from Toy Story.
“What chance does a toy like me have against a Buzz Lightyear action figure?”
Alternate Ways To Pledge Allegiance
You’re supposed to put your right hand OVER your heart, not cop a feel of your breast. At least that was how we were taught. I think she just got to second base with herself. Or maybe she’s doing a routine exam for lumps. Save it for the bus ride, missy.
But I like her foot placement; she’s selling it. And check out the doll on the far left. She can’t quite summon up the words. And to the republic, for which it stands… Honestly, I don’t know why we ever phased out long plaid dresses with loafers and bobby socks. It’s a classic, modest look. The anti-Miley.
Apparently, Miles doesn’t know the correct way to pledge, either.
Deadringers
Corpus Christi High School’s class of 1950 has some real gems to share with you today.
That HAS to be Andy Samberg’s granddad. No two ways around it.
This greaser reminded me of the bad guy in Grease, Crater Face.
And this cutie patootie reminded me of Maxwell Caulfield’s character in Grease II. Do you see it, too?
In most cultures, symmetry is beauty. But these two gentleman prove that your hair can be an asymmetrical entity, and you can still be smooth. It’s like chunks are missing from their heads.
Have you ever seen an old man’s toupee caught in the wind? This is like that except it’s swirly like tidal waves. But also like frosting on a cupcake. I could get lost in it. Look at him, all cocky. How YOU doin’?
I just feel like you need to see this. Tweezing is in order.
Ahem.
What happens when Walt Disney mates with Salvador Dali?
This guy. I like him already.
And check this out! The Kewpie doll is all grown up.
One More For The Road
It doesn’t seem like it’s been 22 years since I watched Bette Midler sing adieu to Johnny Carson. It still chokes me up each time. Carson was 66 years old then, and appeared very much an old man to me. Leno is only three years younger than that, and yet seems much younger, still on his A game, going out on top–not that it was his choice to make. It doesn’t make sense to leave us wanting more, but it’s better than waiting for the show to jump the shark.
Jay Leno was 42 (just three years older than Jimmy Fallon will be when he takes the reigns) when he began hosting The Tonight Show. His first show included Billy Crystal, who will be on tonight as well, bringing some levity to the show. I imagine Garth Brooks will later bring a tear to our eyes, as Midler did on Carson’s farewell show.
After the stresses of the day, I look forward to watching Leno’s jovial monologue, to hearing timely jokes that are relevant today, in this moment. I don’t DVR or TIVO or record any shows; I enjoy the feeling of experiencing them in the now. That’s why I enjoy late night television. I like to feel a part of what is happening now. Not yesterday. Not a week ago. I don’t Netflix, I don’t watch entire seasons of shows back-to-back. I am a fan of real time.
I like Leno. I like his kindness, his joy, the way he respects his guests. And no matter what the media wants us to believe, these past few weeks of celebrity testimony to his kindness reveals more than any rag mag headline. I’ll take him any day to Letterman, who may not be the grumpy old man he once once, but still seems confused and less than alert half of the time.
Speaking of relics, did you catch Mickey Rooney in the Leno audience last night? He’s 93 years old, folks. Wow.
Anyway, I’m sure Leno will find a way to spend his free time; on one hobby in particular.
Yep, the omnipresent denim. Evidently, it’s a not a recent predilection. He’s liked denim for years.
Yes, it’s the end of another Tonight Show era. People will cite the Hugh Grant episode as the go-to nostalgia moment, in the way that they always cite the Drew Barrymore episode on Letterman, flashing her pre-pregnancy boobs. But I remember watching the drunken cast of Cheers after their final show. Now that was a memorable night.
So goodbye to Headlines, to Jaywalking, to those awesome convenience store magician skits, to the witty lady in the photo booth, to every visit by animal expert Jarod Miller and his endless stream of animals, none of which ever frightened or intimidated Leno. (I like you, Fallon, but mercy, you are a wuss when it comes to animals…) I can’t count how many times I’ve watched Leno stroke a baby tiger or lion into submission.
Tonight we say farewell to the grace and charm of an unforgettable host. Best of luck in your new endeavors, Mr. Leno. And thanks for all the laughs.
Hoop Dreams
Nobody could rock a hoop earring like Jody (“Lookin’ For A New Love) Watley. Rumor has it that she hasn’t shrugged since the mid-80s. Many people tried to copy her style. Some went so far as to marry it with a quilted jacket and hat. Oh, no, you di’n’t…
Even modern-day Watley can’t rock a hoop like 1987 Watley. Sometimes you just need to let the style go gently into that good night. These earrings look about as silly as the albino Unibomber behind them.
And as for quilted jackets, these two guys are doing it right–though they don’t appear too thrilled about it.
Maybe they’re upset because they’re using a generic toilet paper, and their bums are all bristly. They should try this:
Operator, Could You Help Me Place This Call?
I used to watch Good Times when I was young, and JJ would always answer the phone, “Cello?” (like the instrument). It reeked of cool, even for a gangly ghetto brother.
Before facetiming and apps and smartphones that could shut your garage door for you, phones were a means of communication by using one’s voice. Certain phone images from pop culture take us back to moments in our lives.
How could we forget the iconic scene in It’s A Wonderful Life? I can feel the sexual tension from here.
This one still gives me the creeps. “We’ve traced the call, and it’s coming from inside the house.”
Dum dum dum!!
Surely you remember this scene in 1985’s Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure when Pee Wee tells the bikers, “Shhh! I’m trying to use the phone!”
Even E.T. tried to get in on the action. But he never did phone home.
But the celeb with by far the most phone pics is the one and only Norma Jean Baker. She favored cross-your-heart phones, endorsed by her pal Jane Russell.
Apparently, she tagteamed quite often.
Although at home, she needed the casual ease of one hand free to express herself.
Keeping private conversations confidential…
In her earlier years, she posed with phones for cheesecake shots. I bet there wasn’t even anyone on the line…
Then she got the call from JFK: it was over.
And she took it well.
I Don't Get It 