Just watching Larry King, again

So, we have toxicology results and Michael Jackson is finally being buried, 70 days after he died. Despite the stated excuse that the family couldn't decide where to bury him, I kind of wonder whether his being kept out of a permanent resting place has to do with potentially needing to retrieve his body for further testing in the homicide investigation.

I'm not sure I really want to ponder the mortuary technology needed to prolong the pre-interment phase this long, unless someone reveals evidence that he's been stashed in a freezer all this time. In my particular line of work, I have colleagues who have exceptional knowledge of historic mortuary practices, which means I know way too much about the minutiae of coffin construction and other macabre trivia. I know way too much about the reasons why, prior to modern mortuary practices, rural Americans in the South usually buried family members in a small family cemetery out back rather than in a church cemetery at a greater distance. (And I found this book absolutely fascinating.)

This also solidifies my intention that when I die, I will be cremated. Along with averting embalming and later decomposition of my earthly remains, I want no possibility of digging me up decades later to see what really killed me.

It does seem sort of odd to hear Larry's almost breathless coverage of this "historic evening." I'm all for further Jackson fanfare, but after Ted Kennedy's beautiful memorial service and funeral this past weekend, this coverage just seems so...not respectful. Despite the supposed no-fly zone, through the magic of helicopter coverage, we can watch Elizabeth Taylor being wheeled in while Deepak Chopra interviews with Larry.

I watched Ghostbusters last night, for the first time in probably 20 years. Gotta love those free movies On Demand! Despite the length of time since I last watched it, I still know that movie so well that I can anticipate many of the lines. "There is no Dana, only Zooool!" Yes, this is unbelievably lame. This movie was part of wayyyy too many 6th grade birthday slumber parties. It was like, pizza, cake, too much soda, Mad Libs, Ghostbusters, "light as a feather, stiff as a board." Every time.

But the reason I mention this is that I noticed something new in the movie: Larry King has a cigarette-smoking silhouetted cameo in the movie. I had no idea who Larry King was back in the day, and Casey Kasem was the only cameo I recognized (well, at least his voice - I was a devotee of Casey's American Top 40). It's sort of funny to look back now, and realize that Larry has had so much "work" done since that 1984 appearance that he doesn't look much different now.

Tabloid Junkie

So Michael Jackson has been dead almost 3 weeks now, and it's still a top headline. I know this should be deeply disturbing to me. Why are all the networks covering this crazy (and now dead) guy when soldiers are dying in Afghanistan and Kim Jong Il has cancer and Obama just went to Africa and Bernie Madoff is off to the slammer and the Episcopal Church is finally taking a stand on the "gay issue"? (AMEN to this last development- it's about time!). Can't they just drop it until there's some real development, like when the toxicology results come back, or they finally bury him somewhere permanent, or the judge awards custody of his kids to someone?

But here's the thing: nobody in the media is ready to let this go, because nobody wants to get scooped on the latest twist in MJ's long and twisted and media-profitable story. Even I am not ready to let it go. I am not a tabloid-follower most of the time, but I've been looking incessantly at internet coverage and even print tabloids for any new tidbits.

Like people all over the world, I've always been fascinated by MJ. I've never actually bought any of his albums, and I wouldn't call myself a fan exactly, but I was always impressed by his talent and creativity (and awesome music videos). For any of us who are part of the first generation of kids to grow up watching MTV, he is unforgettable. Even as his looks got weirder and his personal life got even weirder than his looks, there was this intrigue, and so many contradictions and questions. What goes through the mind of a guy who lives in a child's fantasyland estate surrounded by zoo animals, Hollywood memorabilia, and carnival rides? He blazed a trail for black pop musicians even as he paled to white. He went from a good-looking black man to a Jheri-curled mannequin to a pale, androgynous, almost mime-like distortion who seemed to be raceless and sexless. On one hand he wanted fame and attention, and on the other hand he wanted everyone to leave him alone. Was he a total sicko with many loose screws, or a damaged adult who had sustained a lifetime of mental and physical pain and made a lot of truly unfortunate (and very public) choices? Would he have been as famous if he'd lived a more circumspect personal life?

Regardless of whatever MJ did or didn't do with other people's kids at Neverland, and whether or not he was a druggie, and the bizarre and cringeworthy parenting choices revealed in the 2003 Martin Bashir documentary, his own kids clearly did love him. I hope and pray those three children have a good support system, and that eventually they'll be able to live quieter lives out of the spotlight. Now that their faces are no longer under wraps, I'm not sure the world will be able to leave them alone until the issue of custody is settled and, perhaps, their biological origins are made known. It's nobody's business, I know, and probably cruel to speculate about, but people will always wonder (look at Anna Nicole Smith's daughter - once they determined who her daddy was, the attention stopped). I truly hate to think of the Jackson kids becoming paparazzi bait through no fault of their own, and hope the family is set to protect them.

MJ's music has been with me since "Off the Wall" and as he progressed through the 80s and 90s, I liked some of it, hated some of it, but always found the videos impressive, and enjoyed his collaborations with other artists. Thanks to the magic of YouTube, I've been able to revisit a lot of them, none of which I've seen in the past decade. They've aged well; the genius of music, choreography, and videography is evident. There are definitely disturbing ones ("You Are Not Alone" anyone?), but I enjoyed the others.

My hands-down favorite revisit: "We Are The World". Not all his, no, but he was a core figure in the project, and though he was already into the mannequin phase, he looked so young and handsome. I also enjoyed getting some perspective on how this was accomplished. I liked the song back when it came out, but it flat-out amazes me now - all that vocal talent in one room, and nearly all of them artists I loved. Not only did they get this unbelievable array of singers, all top names and most at a high point in their careers, but they pulled this off in ONE NIGHT. And they worked all night to do it. When you look at the final video, you can tell many of them were pretty fried by the final take of their solos (Paul Simon, Tina Turner, and Billy Joel in particular look close to a collapse).

And the styles...my God, the hair! The HAIR! Daryl Hall's amazing mullet on steroids. Lindsey Buckingham's 'fro. Diana Ross' floating cloud of hair. Billy Joel with hair. I look forward to telling my kids someday that these styles didn't look all that weird to us (with our own perms, mullets, feathers, and vertical bangs) at the time. Cyndi Lauper and Tina Turner excepted. Tina's hair always looked like it was cemented in place. Cyndi's hair scared me then way more than it scares me now (the "Time After Time" video gave me more than a few bad dreams in sixth grade). Cyndi and Boy George would have made quite a pair. And Annie Lennox too. Yikes.

But getting back to MJ. Whatever further revelations emerge about him posthumously, he'll always be an icon of many things: music, dance, pop culture, the downside of success, and the pitfalls of cosmetic surgery. I hope whatever parts of him were tormented are at peace now, and that anyone victimized by him is at peace as well.

And, well, I need to go check TMZ again. MJ is hopefully resting in peace, but I've got to hear the latest La Toya-generated conspiracy theory....

Two Interviews

For a variety of reasons, this has not been a great month so far. In no particular order:

• Someone I love just died and I miss her. I also feel some guilt about our relationship.
  
• I miss George. It was nine years ago that we picked him up from the breeder.
  
• I have an injury that's going to sideline my running and other cardio options for awhile and will take considerable effort to heal. Oh, and it hurts, too.
• Weight loss efforts are not going well, and my inability to work out won't help matters.
• There are upcoming personnel changes at work which will directly affect me and about which I am not happy.
• The dog is still chewing everything he can get his snout on.
  
• My car is coated with gray salt grime, and every time I wash it, it snows again.

While it's much more my style to moan about all these things in-depth, I (for once) don't have the energy. So, on to some interview commentary. Yes, it's a week late. Whatever.

The CBS 60 Minutes interview with the Flight 1549 crew: My favorite part: when Katie Couric asked Sully if he prayed as the plane was coming down, and he responded that he was too busy flying but assumed "someone in the back of the plane" was taking care of that. The part where the crew met the passengers, and the letters they read at the end, made me cry.

Another aspect, one I wish the show had explored further, was the weird dynamic between the two flight attendants at the front of the plane, where the landing was not that hard, and the one flight attendant in the back, where things were much worse. She almost seemed resentful that she was back there alone, panicking, engulfed in water and with a cut leg, while her colleagues were high and dry up front, and they seemed a little defensive in return. Clearly there is some awkwardness among the crew members, and while Sully deserves hero status for his flying skills, the other crew members did plenty to save lives too but aren't getting much media attention. Even the TV cameras at the Superbowl skipped right over the crew to zoom in on Sully. That's gotta hurt.

The Dateline interview with Nadya Suleman, the octuplet mom: I am so disturbed by this situation, on so many levels. There is so much that doesn't make sense. I can't say much that hasn't already been said, but I am deeply afraid for those kids and have a hard time not being judgmental, or even just skeptical, of their mother. I don't doubt that they are loved, but their mom seems to have a tenuous grip on reality, at best. Not to mention a blase attitude that random people from church or wherever are going to step up and take on caring for eight newborns and six older siblings while she lives off disability checks garnered by her three special-needs kids, collects food stamps (while claiming she gets no government assistance), sucks in money through her new self-promoting website, and somehow magically completes her grad program next year.

My questions:

1. If she was so badly injured on the job at the mental hospital that she was physically unable to work, what was she doing taking on not one but SIX high-risk pregnancies? Even one normal pregnancy is hard on your body, and highly likely to exacerbate any existing problems.

2. And even after getting through pregnancy and birth, how exactly did she expect to chase after her herd of kids if she is in too much chronic physical or mental pain to hold a job?

3. Now that she has 14 kids, at least three of whom are special-needs and eight more of whom are premature newborns likely to have health issues, how does she expect to complete her graduate degree on schedule? And if she can't afford to feed her family, who's paying for grad school anyway? Who paid for this last round of in-vitro?

4. She seems to assume that once she gets her degree, she can go back to work at a higher income level that will support all these kids. How can she suddenly go back to work at a higher level if she is too disabled to work now and hasn't worked in several years? And assuming she gets a decent job, who is going to babysit 14 kids? They'll need their own daycare facility.

5. The relationship between Ms. Suleman and her family is bizarre. Initially her mom trashed her to the media and claimed she was refusing to help further with this nonsense. However, mom has been an enabler by not forcing her to grow up and get her own market-rate housing. And now that PR people are involved, the mom is suddenly being portrayed as loving and supportive. And where is her dad?

6. Nowhere has anyone discussed the potential for Ms. Suleman to develop postpartum mental health issues. I don't doubt that she cherishes her kids, but let's face it, every parent needs a break from their kids sometimes. With no spouse figure or guaranteed support from her own parents, who's going to give her a break? Who's going to be there when she is severely sleep-deprived and dealing with eight screaming babies and six older kids with more complex needs?

7. I await more information on the doctor who enabled this lunacy. This situation is unfair to the kids, and unfair to society as well. Couldn't Dr. Fertility Miracle have told Ms. Suleman to leave those embryos in the freezer until her life became more stable?

8. How does this woman have such good health insurance? Is all of the octuplet care covered? Was this insurance part of the injury settlement?

Hmm. So much not adding up here.

Reason #37 that I will never be on reality TV

Let's just say up front that I am already not a fan of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. I think their approach is well-intended but way over the top. I think demolishing a functional house and throwing up a new one is stupid and wasteful (why not use that money to either remodel/fix up the place or find a new house more suited to the family's needs?). It bothers me that the makeover recipients often don't have the means and support to handle the downside of the changes to their lives, like higher property taxes due to their ballooning new digs, or unwanted aspects of celebrity status.

And finally, unlike seemingly most women in America, I do not swoon at the sight of Ty Pennington.

My sister had the opportunity to attend one of the reveals, and from all indications, much of the crowd was made up of semi-hysterical women hoping to catch a glimpse of Ty. Yeah, it was cool to see the family get their new house and yell "Move that bus!" and all, but Ty was wayyyy more scream-worthy.

Of course, nerd that I am, I'd be standing there assessing the construction details while screaming women are stampeding around me to see if they can get closer to Ty. But I digress.

Clearly, I don't think like a TV producer; such creatures are not known for practicality or unglamorous solutions. But after reading this article, there is no way on God's green earth I'll ever convert to EM:HE fandom. No way, no how.

I'm not sure which is more disturbing: the show being like a revivalist cult for its employees and devotees, or the revelation that Habitat for Humanity could build 24 new houses for needy people with the outlay required for one of these obscenely excessive makeovers.

The info on how they stage the show was fascinating in the context of all the reality TV out there - moments that look spontaneous are actually rehearsed and interviews with the subjects are the results of multiple takes. It's a little unsettling to get a glimpse of the man behind the curtain, and in some ways this type of information shatters certain illusions.

On the other hand, it helps to explain how these shows work, because certainly you wonder why everyone seems to be in sync and outside people never seem to interfere with the proceedings. How come votes on Survivor usually only split two ways instead of being all over the map? How come you never see people (ticket agents, taxi drivers, etc.) encountered by The Amazing Race contestants acting all star-struck or being shocked by their first encounter with each team and its camera-crew entourage? How come tasks on The Apprentice never get derailed by star-seeking bystanders, and everyone goes straight to their seemingly-random seats in the Boardroom instead of bumbling around like normal people?

I guess now I know that if I ever get on House Hunters, my true remarks will end up rescripted.

Real statement: "Why the hell would you ever put wall-to-wall over these nice floors?"
TV statement: "Well, it's a nice carpet, but it would have to go!"

Real statement: "Are these people f---ing colorblind? Why would you ever paint your living room magenta?"
TV statement: "Whoa, now that's a different color. It's not really me, though."

Real statement: "Mirrored closet doors. Again. Does EVERY damn house on this show have mirrored closet doors? Can we pleeeease go see a house without them?"
TV statement: "This bedroom is a nice size. Wow, those mirrors really brighten things up in here!"

Real statement: "Wow, this tacky 1970s wallpaper is awesome. Awesome! Can we keep it?"
TV statement: "Hey, look at that! Ha ha. Interesting. But we'll need to strip that and repaint."

Real statement: "Check out this closet! It's bigger than all the closets in my current house combined!"
TV statement: "It's a very nice closet, but I actually was looking for something a little bigger. And the master bathroom only has one sink."

Procrastination

So Slate has published an entire edition about my all-time favorite pastime. How awesome is that? I haven't gotten around to reading all of the articles yet, for obvious reasons.

In other news, Melrose has been invited to a Hannah Montana theme party. Not Tinkerbell. Not Ariel. Not Barbie as the Island Princess or in Fairytopia or wherever else Barbie's creators choose to put her next (who knew that Barbie was a talented actress? And what does Ken think about all this?). Not Sleeping Beauty or Cinderella or any Disney princess I've missed.

Nope, it's Hannah Montana, favorite show/concert/marketing phenomenon for grade-school tweener girls.

The birthday girl and her guests are 4.

I'm not entirely sure I approve of this, but I'm stuck chaperoning anyway. Also, we do not have suitable clothing, and I'm so not buying any. I seem to belong to the rare and shrinking club that thinks kids should be dressed like kids, not like mini-teenagers.

Speaking of disturbing media for children, has anyone checked out BoohBah? You cannot persuade me that those creators were not on drugs. The entire show is like some bizarre and scary hallucinatory trip. I thought the Teletubbies were creepy, but BoohBah is just a whole new level of things that give me nightmares. And my kids love it. Magoo refers to it as the Boom-Bahs. I turned it on one day just to check it out, and of course they were addicted after just one episode.

I'm still holding the line against Barney, however. I'm not even giving him the benefit of a link.

We've gotta move these color TVs

I stopped for gas on my way home tonight, and was delighted by what I found when I got out of the car:

The TVs over the pumps were broken!

It was SO nice to stand there, enjoying a mild, wet night, listening to gas gurgling into my car and traffic whooshing by. No loudspeakers blaring music or ads. No glaring, gabbling TV screen showing disjointed little sound bites.

It really scares me that gas corporations (yes, you, Sunoco) now think people need to be entertained (and advertised to) for the few minutes it takes to fill up your car. Is it really going to kill a customer to stand still and not do anything but watch the pump run for a couple of minutes? Do they feel bad that they don't want us to talk on our cell phones at the pump, even though there's no proof of anyone blowing themselves up this way, so they give us TV instead? Maybe they're just trying to distract us from rising gas prices? Or is it that important to fill up every spare moment in life with advertising?

The overhead music I don't always mind, because it sometimes plays random 80s songs I love, but these TVs over the pumps are just offensive. The volume is always too loud, and there's always some frenetic Ryan Seacrest clone jumping around and/or yelling. You have to turn away not to look at it, but you're still assaulted by the racket it makes. I try to go to quieter stations without these things, but tonight I spaced on getting gas until this station was the only one left on my way. But I lucked out. The TVs were sitting there with jumbled frozen screens that resembled those old emergency-broadcast test patterns.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not a TV hater. I own multiple idiot boxes, and I even have cable. I just don't see any need for customers to be subjected to blaring TVs in public places, except maybe in a sports bar, where watching a game is part of the overall reason for being there. Or if something major is going on (on the 9/11 level, not the O.J. White Bronco Chase level). Otherwise, why do we need more noise, ads and glare in our lives? Do we all truly need to watch Dr. Phil while waiting for an oil change? Turn. It. Off.

Speaking of that whole thing with talking on your cell phone while pumping, did you know that Wawa has cell phone Big Brothers? A couple of years ago, as I was finishing a cell phone conversation while getting gas at one of those vast canopied gas-pump clusters, the music stopped and this guy got on the PA system: "Ma'am at Pump Four? Attention, ma'am at Pump Four? Could you turn off your cell phone please?" Pretty much everyone pumping gas stopped and swiveled to check out which idiot's being busted at Pump Four, including me. Oh. I'm at Pump Four. CLICK.

They paved Paradise and put up a parking lot

As if I don't have enough to do, I decided that I finally had my act together enough to put together a blog about historic preservation. A couple of my preservationist buddies in DC have had blogs or websites for awhile, and I've been looking for a way to explore it from my professional perspective as someone who is literally out there on the street, seeing how people treat their old buildings and the misinformation that seems to be prevalent. In some small way, I'm hoping The Hysterical Preservationist might be a place to dispel myths and misconceptions, dissect some of the issues, and clarify a perspective that is so often at odds with the American Way.

If I can keep up with it, that is.

Moving on. Lent is fast approaching, and I'm trying to figure out what self-disciplinary measure I should take this year. In the past I've tried giving up junk food, or I've attempted to be a more positive person. Last year I tried to take some time every evening to read the daily Scripture and pray, because along with the part of me that loves to read books, my spiritual life is spotty at best these days. This tactic worked for a couple of weeks, but I kept falling asleep in the midst of it and finally got so far behind on the readings that I lost motivation to catch up. My church publishes a wonderful little lectionary brochure with the day's lesson and a short meditation written by a mix of ministers and parishioners. It's really cool, especially if you know the person who wrote the thought of the day. I'm going to try the reading/prayer tactic again, but I'm wondering if there is something else to commit to, like daily exercise or something that will help keep me on a good mental-health track.

I also decided whose job I want most: Andy Rooney's! How good does he have it? He gets to go on TV every week, be a total curmudgeon, and snipe about various topics...and he gets paid huge amounts of money for his bitch sessions. Nobody tells him to stop being such a downer or speculates about whether he had a facelift. He probably can set his own taping schedule. I would love to be a professional snarkmonger--which is probably why I blog and send my friends acerbic e-mails. The only thing I wouldn't like about it is when right-wingers create and forward racist hoax e-mails supposedly authored by me.