Random TV Thoughts

Thanks to the beauty of the internet, I've been able to catch up on a few television series I never got into while they were originally on TV. Here's a smattering:

Veronica Mars: As I once described it, it's about this teenage girl who's a private investigator of sorts...but cooler than it sounds. The first season involved a season long story arc that provided for much of the drama and suspense. I'm curious to see how the show will play out now that that arc has been resolved. But the acting and the dialog are both engaging enough to keep me watching even without a major mystery that needs to be solved.

Firefly: Despite hearing all the good things about it from everyone I knew, I never caught this while it was on the air. Then, I saw the "Serenity" movie trailer - the movie that is based on the TV show and realized that if the show had half the humor the trailer hinted the movie had, I would enjoy it. And indeed I have. I've downloaded most of the episodes and when I couldn't download them fast enough, I rented the DVD's from Netflix. The show's bizarre combination of Chinese and the Old West creates a fantastical world that is just familiar enough to work. All the main characters have histories that are only hinted at, but you just know they are fascinating and worthy of exploration. I only hope the movie explains a lot that was left unexplained by the show.

Battlestar Galactica: While I am now watching this show on Sci-Fi, I missed out on the whole first season. Never remotely a fan of the original series, this reimagining of the old 70's TV show just blew my mind. The characters were all so strong and yet so full of human weakness and frailty that even though the show is wholly unrealistic, you feel so much for the people involved you can completely suspend disbelief. Even though the show has taken on a religious bent that I'm not 100% sure of, I can't stop watching it with hungry eyes.

The basic thing I've realized about all of these shows is the amount I actually care about the characters; when they are in danger, my pulse quickens; when they're happy and joking and laughing, I find myself laughing as well. Television shows can be interesting, suspenseful, funny, and all other adjectives that would describe a good program, but without that need to know where the characters are concerned, the show never achieves true greatness.

My Dumb Luck

Would someone, SOMEONE out there tell me why it is my luck to work in the one office that I would regularly encounter my ex-boyfriend?

His father handles our insurance and apparently he now works with his father.

Granted the relationship ended (in tears of course) years ago, and without a doubt I know I am over him...way over him. However, does that mean that I should ever have to deal with him again?

I mean, c'mon!

Six Feet Under 2001-2005

Slowly recovering from the series finale of HBO's extraordinary series, Six Feet Under.

I don't know if I've seen a more beautiful ending to any television series or much else to be honest.

In a show about death, it was only fitting to see the deaths of everyone we've come to know and love; even if it was sad, that's life and Six Feet Under never shied away from something true just because it was painful.

What is wrong with our society? Part I

So it's a grand suggestion to think that I know what is wrong with our society; I barely know how our electoral system works.

However, I think that as a casual observer with the occasional witty thought, I am just as qualified to make these pronouncements as anyone...or at least anyone without a professional degree.

One of the more immediate problems I keep seeing time and time again, is our country's obsession with celebrities. If I have to see one more magazine cover discussing Brad and Jen and Angelina, I am going to take a torch to all local newsstands. The most popular periodicals are the one touting secrets about celebrities' careers, diets, and love lives. And it's not just magazines; the TV is flooded with infotainment, because the daily activities of Britney Spears are far more newsworthy than actual news.

Now I'm not solely blaming the media here. If the public didn't express such a rabid hunger for the insignificant details of the lives of the rich and famous, the various media outlets might not cater to it. Of course the question of which came first, the supply or the demand, does linger in ones mind. But that is like trying to understand Paris Hilton's appeal...just not worth it and bit painful.

Yes, we all want to know what it would be like to be rich and famous, tons of fabulous clothes, go amazing places and essentially live that life. But is it worth our national soul to make that the focal point of our interest? Iraqi war aside, there is so much else out there in the world to know and investigate that what Hillary Duff said about Lindsey Lohan should be at the very bottom of our lists.

In an bizarre effort to make celebrities seem approachable and human (since most of the time they do appear to be a different breed), magazines are now featuring spreads showing how celebrities are actually JUST LIKE US. Look - This one buys milk at the grocery store! Ooh, and this one takes his kids to the park! And that celebrity wears jeans and tshirts, just like the rest of us!! Doesn't that make them great??

Anyone who is surprised that a parent takes their child to the park, no matter how famous that parent is, should be immediately and summarily bitch-slapped.

It is no surprise that even people who make millions on a crappy picture still require the necessities of life and might even be seen acquiring such needs themselves. And it is a sad, sorry statement on our culture that this even needs to be a point of discussion.

While it might be easier to concentrate on someone else's fantasical life, rather than our own, and make their suffering over lost loves a part of our real emotional existence, it is delusional and not particularly helpful. There's no reason not to enjoy a little gossip, but when that becomes the focal point of your life, it's time to put down the glossies, take a few minutes to think about the real world, and reevaluate.

Sorta Pathetic

Yesterday I was chatting online with a friend that I've known for the past 10 years. Granted, we've never been particularly close, but we've always maintained a peripheral friendship.

She mentioned how her birthday is this Sunday, on Tisha B'av - probably the second worst day to have a birthday (Yom Kippur being the first). But her boyfriend is taking her out tonight, so she says she'll deal.

Then she wrote "Isn't your birthday coming up too?"

And it took me a minute to think about that.

And then I realized that she was right; in less than a month I turn 29. And it has all but slipped my mind.

As opposed to other years when I've felt the need to be around friends on my happy natal day, this year I have no plans. Last year I planned a big dinner that, while nice, was fraught with many problems and overall my birthday ended with the feeling of a giant let down.

This year, I won't be anywhere near any friends, save one - the only friend that I have in LA. I do not expect to hear from any of my "friends", as this year I am choosing not to remind anyone and I have no expectation that anyone will remember on their own. At this point, I'm hoping my mother remembers.

Perhaps if I ignore it and prevent myself from the ultimate let down that always is September 8th, maybe my 30th year will start on a better note and won't have the air of disappointment hanging over it.

Hey, it's worth a try.

Foie Gras, Truffles, Red Wine and Me

So as far as I am aware, come the end of September, I'm off on a 6 day walking tour in the Southwest of France.

I'm not quite sure what awaits me, but I've read that the region (Perigord) is well known for it's foie gras and truffles...which leads me to believe I'm going to be eating very very well.

The tour is actually a self guided walk arranged by a British travel company; they'll transport the luggage, give you all the info you need and you go at your own pace during the day. At night, you stay in quaint village inns, where they feed you and let you rest your weary bones.

I started reading up about the region and it turns out that this is one of the first sites of culture in the annals of human development. Back in the 1940's 2 young boys stumbled across a bunch of caves with complicated and beautiful drawings showcasing various aspects of what we assume to be a caveman's life, including what is now called "The Great Hunt". The region also served a vital role in the French/British relationship over the years.

I'm just hoping to have a moment where I'm sitting along side the Dordogne River, munching on a crusty bagette, some truly wonderful French cheese and sipping some red wine from a green glass bottle. Hopefully a big ass Medieval castle will be somewhere in the background.

My New God - Tony Bourdain

Even though everyone else fell in love with Anthony Bourdain when he came out with first book, "Kitchen Confidential" back in 2000. Then those who hadn't yet had a chance to fall under his crass, crude, and yet seductive spell, got that chance when he did "A Cook's Tour" on the Food Network.

But me? I had to wait till he did "No Reservations" on the Travel Channel - in 2005.

For the uninitiated, Anthony Bourdain has been a chef for over a quarter of a century, and has had no compunction letting the lay community get a peek into the dark world of working in a professional kitchen. His first book "Kitchen Confidential" details his first moments when he realized food can be transcendent (an encounter with vichyssoise on the Queen Mary and a raw oyster eaten right out of the ocean helped with this realization) and then later traced his long and extremely sordid history through various kitchens in Manhattan's high pressure restaurant world. For anyone who thought a kitchen was a place where cleanliness and order were the watchwords of the day, this book might shock you. In fact, I'm surprised that I ever want to eat in a restaurant again after finishing this book. Sex in the walk in, cocaine and other friendly drugs snorted off all surfaces, alcohol freely imbibed at all hours of the day...and from all this we get that moment when the waiter places a dish of hopefully delicious food in front of us.

Currently, Bourdain is the head chef at brassiere Les Halles in Manhattan. He details his daily grind so specifically and with such vivid language that you understand why he's chosen to remain in this brutal and physically exhausting profession. He clearly loves it.

And through reading it, you clearly love him. Sure he's blustery and full of ego; sure he throws out racial and sexual epithets like they are candy at a bar mitzvah; and sure he deliberately tries to gross out his readers with tales dismemberment and bodily fluids. But his pure adoration for good food and for the people in his industry who work hard and dedicate themselves to the job show another side to his character. Despite his posing, he does really care.

His show on the Travel Channel, "No Reservations" is an odd sort of travelogue. He goes to a city and essentially talks about food. He doesn't really wax poetic or get all romantic about it - I'd imagine it's hard to get romantic about eating headcheese. He's realistic, snarky, and honest about his reactions to what he's eating. If he's eating blood sausage and it's good, he'll say so. If he's eating fermented shark and it tastes exactly as it sounds, he'll say that too. The show falters occasionally when they try to force plot, but Tony is such an amiable travel companion, you forgive the trespass.

Last night he ventured back to his home turf, New Jersey. He did everything from eat a ripper from a highway diner to have a full on Korean meal to eat a very very sad grilled cheese sandwich at the purely defunct Howard Johnson's at Asbury Park to down cannoli with Mario Battali at a real Italian bakery. New Jersey which may have seemed like a totally desolate wasteland at the start of the show, apparently has something to offer besides the Sopranos.

I received Bourdain's book version of "A Cook's Tour", his worldwide search for the perfect meal. I can only imagine what he'll put in his mouth to achieve the quest. However, deep down he's always acknowledged that the best meals are never the ones you eat in a three piece suit and cost you a month's rent. The best meals are the ones that take you back to a perfect experience, a fleeting memory of childhood or of pure happiness; the best meal could be anything from a cold meatloaf sandwich to pasta to a damn fine steak.

And to Tony, that's all good.