Dead Stars: Tom Bosley

Actor Tom Bosley passed away on October 19th at age 83. He played the iconic role of Mr. Cunningham on Happy Days, an old school dad who was constantly being tested by the subversive 1950s. Coming along in the 1970s he wasn't the innovator of TV fathers but he did have staying power, 11 seasons worth.

RIP Tom Bosley

 TV Guide ranked him number 9 on the all time TV father list which isn't bad. In comparison to how TV fathers have recently been portrayed recently (Homer Simpson, Don Draper, Peter Griffin) his traditional character is a breath of fresh air as he doesn't destroy the house, he doesn't bone all the girls at the office, endanger his families lives or come up with hair brained schemes to get rich quick. Howard Cunningham was a no bull, hardware store owner who just wanted to come home from work to an appreciative family and a steak.

In addition Mr. Bosley also won a Tony award in 1959 and co starred on Murder She Wrote.

Dead Stars: Barbara Billingsley

Barbara Billingsley died Saturday at the age of 94. If nothing else she set the standard for TV house wives in the 1950s and 1960s on the hit show Leave It To Beaver. High heels and pearls were the look all the time, very impressive for a stay at home mom who has degenerated since then.

RIP Barbara

Here's the deevolution of housewives for those of you who don't see it. If we start with Mrs. Cleaver out next step would be:

  Carrol Brady: She started off like Mrs. Cleaver but along with the rest of her family got a little groovy at the 1970s shook their peaceful Californian living. This house mother wore pants and did a lot less house work as she had her live in servant/carpet muncher Alice.

Next we took a weird lateral move in the 70s and 80s where the housewife was replaced with a servant lie Mrs. Garrett so her feelings and sexuality didn't need to be addressed unless we were faced with a very uncomfortable very special episode. There was no Mr. Garrett so we must assume she was either a widow or a liar. The possibility that Mr. Garret left her ass for a sexy french maid is also up for deabte.

Suddenly when things looked hopeless Claire Huxtable popped up! She was a Lawyer or a Doctor or something that netted a lot of money; she had a lot of children and seemed to take good care of that big house. I don't recall a servant ever getting shown out the back door.  Kudos to the 80s, right?

Wrong! We then got slapped with the reality of the typical housewife who was angry, bitter and not a very good housekeeper. In addition she couldn't even keep her ass thin for her man. The appearance of Rosanne caused men all over to balk at the prospect of getting hitched and having kids as this bite of reality was a bit too much.

Somehow our housewife suddenly took all the laziness and bitterness of Roseanne and decided she was a prostitute. Peg Bundy the horny, inappropriately dressed stay at home mom set the bar for the girls who teenagers when they first saw her and is many ways responsible for the rash of Real Housewives.

The Horror, the horror, the horror!

AMERICA!!!

If you are it you must own it! Buy America now! Not only must you own it but you must watch it all the time you mother f'ing Yankee Doodle Dandy! Nothing is more important!

"culture" vs. "pop" culture vs value

What matters vs. what do I like vs old school entertainment that supposedly hold more weight than more modern forms. I can't lie that I try to absorb all this stuff because I'm not interesting but the things I am exposed to make me seem interesting . . . isn't that true for everybody? Isn't that from "High Fidelity"?
A friend was teasing me that I had no culture but I argued that I'd been to symphonies, I'd been to The Nutcracker, I'd been exposed to famous works of art, she argued that I would still be happier at a rock concert. I didn't respond or retort, why waste my breath with words that can't back up actions, after all I'm just a man not the son of the sun king.
I'm not exactly sure if there should be a difference between any of these things because they all made money, they all convey some sort of information, they all make people happy or feel something and maybe a grand opera tells the same story as an Aerosmith song. So there's Andy Worhal who was like some flake who said simple cocktail observations and did some art because there wasn't anything easier to do. While doing this he invented something for people with nothing substantial but not before getting art critics to go for his schtick. I actually don't know if any of that is correct but it sounds about right.
Is classic art important beyond asthetics? Personally I feel that if it can tell a good story with something interesting to say. The Greek plays or poems are a good example of this as is the next versions of those in the form of Shakespear . . . now we have Stephen king.

Have I mentioned that I have this odd hunger for sugar cereal lately? I just want to chow down on some sugar pops. I don't know why but there it is. Steak and eggs also sounds really fork licking good too!

I guess none of this matters because it can all come down to generational themes and technology. We are humans and have a lot of free time which most of us choose not to do anything important with so we need to use up that time with entertainment and leisure activities . . . so even sport gets thrown into the mix here. Athletics are important because it can represent what we are physically capable of even if we need performance enhancers. I don't know what the Ancient Greeks and Egyptians used to make themselves better in competition but certainly there was a modern idea of cheating going on.
You know classic books have more references to their times than you might expect, making them essentially pop items before the term was what it was. I like a book that can capture a time without being obsessed with it or being so much a product of it's time it doesn't transcend it.

"What's a transom, Bob"

These Ads/ I'm a Problem

So . . . I saw the ad on TV for "Late Night" flavored Doritos and like magic I was convinced I had to have some! I put on my pants, counted the few dollars in the pocket and practically danced out the door looking for some sort of snack salvation. Truth be told I didn't even lock my apartment door; I just made a choice to get what I needed to get.
As I crossed the street to get to the closest market I began to wonder how bad I would feel if I discovered the store didn't carry the new item and would I attempt to purchase them at the next place I encountered. What would be worse is if the market had them but told me I couldn't actually by them until it was in fact late night; looking at my watch I realized I would have so many hours to wait. For whatever reason I tried to act casual about the purchase, I almost tried to act aloof as if I was just chillin' in the corner store, killin' time; clearly there is something wrong with me as I can't even just give in to temptation like a normal conspicuous consumer. I think the first time I tried to buy beer underage I was more direct . . . but that's a story for another time.
Anyway I went to the chips and eyed them all before seeing the black bags with pseudo neon signs advertising the brand and flavor which of course became a whole ulcer inducing process as well. "Last Jalapeno Popper" or "Tacos at Midnight"? NO! The effort was taking the excitement out of the whole grand dream I had about tearing open the bag and pouring those suckers down my throat. Based on no digression at all I went with the Jalapeno and humbly placed the bag on the counter hoping the due wouldn't start asking me questions, congratulate or fill me in on the specifications of my purchase, all went smooth and we didn't even bring plastic or paper in to the transaction.
Once I had the snack I looked over the bag, easily tore open the top, took a whiff and plucked out a chip at random. The taste was indistinguishable from many of the other Doritos family chips.
Like in so many other aspects of my life I had been had and suckered by what I thoguht I wanted my life to be about.

I'm dumb.