Glitter

We all like to watch. Because for several hours, Hollywood loses the scripts, and the wardrobe changes and the F stops to celebrate and honor their collective peers. It's the mother of all 3 rings. No safety nets. Only the little red eye with the 10 second delay, network xanax, for ape s**t moments.

1. In 1932, Walt Disney won the first Oscar in a new category, best cartoon short, for 'Flowers and Trees' a cartoon which utilized the innovation of color.

2. First movie to win Best Picture, in color, was Gone with the Wind, in 1939.

3 Oscar weighs 8 1//2 pounds, and measures approximately 14 inches.

4. In 1972, George C. Scott was awarded the Oscar for best actor as 'Patton.' He declined calling the awards ceremony, 'a meat market.' Two years later, Marlon Brando refused his best actor Oscar for 'The Godfather.' Sacheen Littlefeather, in full tribal regalia, was sent by Brando to read his statement which chastised Hollywood and the USA for their discrimination of Native Americans. Later it was discovered that Littlefeather was really actress Maria Cruz. Whaaat?

5. Only X rated movie to ever win Best Picture was 'Midnight Cowboy.' 1969.

6. The only actor to ever be nominated twice after his death, the enigmatic, and great James Dean. First in 1955 for 'East of Eden,' and then the following year for 'Giant.'Both nominations were in the best actor category.

7. Movies nominated for 2012 Best Picture of the year:

'The Artist. Front runner. Do the Euros really win back to back?
'The Descendants.' Hollywood's love affair with Clooney.
'Extremely loud and Incredibly Close.' You're kidding.
'The Help.' A social commentary.
'Hugo'. Hollywood awash in Scorsese guilt.
'Midnight in Paris.' No late night phone call to NYC.
'Moneyball.' Vastly underrated.
'The Tree of Life.' Geezuz. Need Malick 101 for translation.
'War Horse.' Why?

Drinking game: take a slug every time someone mentions Harvey Weinstein. Enjoy.

On deck #66

Frosted animal crackers. Before devouring, blot out ingredients. Why does something so bad, pastel waxen shapes made in some twink cave, taste so good? On a rampage for 3 weeks, can't get enough of the weirdness. At the end of the world, this year, the only surviving items will be the twinkie, and a bag of frosted animal cookies. This I know. Trust me.

The number 66. Not quite roly poly... a drunk pair of inverted 9's. Wannabe rigid sevens. The greatest road way that led to and from San Bernadino, Cali; Bobby Troup wrote a song in 1946 which was covered by Nat King Cole, the Stones, Chuck Berry, Depeche Mode and a roomful of others. All caravans cut back and forth on this mother lode, route 66. If you ever tripped out this way when you were young, you experienced old school Americana. Small towns, and roadside attractions. Bill boards, and orange shaped huts. Burma shaving cream. Flying winged horses hovering over gasoline stations. Clear as a bell. In waves.

Route 66 morphed into a classic telly show in the 60's.

Interesting 66 factly fact: order 66 in Star Wars was a prepared plan for the clones to kill the Jedi commanding them.

66 not quite as cool as 55, those double nickels. But I'll take the old road map any day.

The Yellow Mamba....etc.

He is the freaking toast of New York...the city that never forgets or forgives. The city where most of the population would bump their own mother off a train for a seat on the transit. For crissake, the Bronx cheer was born here. But, baby, if you make it here, you can make it anywhere. And, Jeremy Lin, 6'3" (as if), the Knicks point guard, by default is torching the city; the Knicks win, and the daily rags are dripping in Lin ink. NewYawkers cannot get enough of the golden Asian boy from Palo Alto. Golden State Warriors cut him. They let him go. I'm not even going to touch that. Madison Square Garden sold out, and drowning in a Lin fest of 'Linsanity' signs, a sloshing 2012 human 'be-in' is on pins and needles awaiting the return of the heavies, Amar'e Stoudemire, and Carmelo Anthony. Ego. Ego. Ego. In the meantime the love affair continues...#17, his crazed fans, and me. I heard Lin even walks on water.

Feb. 14th. Not really backing up a whole lot in years. Here's a compilation of songs, in no particular order that struck a memory chord:
1. Do right woman, Do right man...Aretha
2. This must be the Place...Talking Heads
3. Little Cloud...Incredible String Band
4. You got the Silver...Stones
5. I only have eyes for You...Flamencos
6. Turn it On...Sleater-Kinney
7. Italian leather Sofa...Cake
8. Stay a little Longer...Bob Wills
9. Stornelli Amorisi...Claudio Villa
10. Crown of Love...Arcade Fire
11. A case of You...Joni Mitchell
12. You really got a hold on Me...Smokey and the Miracles.
Uh, just saying...

Eli's coming....

We're talking Super Bowl today. If you don't like sports specifically football, taking a hike outta here might be a good idea. On Sunday, in the dome that Peyton built, it's Obi Wan vs the Dark Star. Imperial storm troopers vs Jedi. Eli vs Brady Boy for all the marbles of the NFL universe. 60 minutes of mayhem, Madonna at the half, and the best damn commercials served up for public consumption. Some facts:

1. Winning players rack up $88,000,and become Lords of the Ring.
The NFL contributes $5,000.per individual ring bling. Last year, the Green Bay Packers rings were platinum and 18k gold encrusted 3.35 carats, not carrots, with the jewels that are a girl's best friend.

2. The losers? $44,000. And no one ever remembering their name.

3. Each TV ad that airs...cherish the moment. It cost 3.5 million for the broadcast slot.

4. Opening face value of tickets were $800.-$1,200. But, uh, nose bleed seats in the upper deck over the end zone being offered today at $2,247.

5. In Vegas. Casinos are fielding $87.5 million in wagers on this Super Bowl. NY money. And action is up 5.8% from 2010.

6. But my friends, Vegas can't hold this jock strap: 10 billion greenbacks
bet illegally in office pools across the nation. We are a lotto swilling luck
crazed country.

7. Food. 28 million pounds of potato chips consumed. 53.5 million pounds of avocados mashed. 1 billion pounds of chicken wings spiced and slathered. And 325.5 million gallons of beer tossed back. On Monday, 7 million people call in sick.

8. A Prop is a gimmick bet. Here's the best one for half time: what song will the Material Girl open with? I say not 'Like a Virgin.' Hmmm, maybe one of Gaga's.

My prediction for the game. You have to walk and talk it, right?
Eli leads the Giants to another ring. New Yorkers fuggedabout the Jets and the Yankees. Ticker tape rains in the canyon of heroes. Giants 30-Pats 23.

Passages

1. Etta James. It was the 80's. And headlining together down in the cellar of Larry Blake's on Telegraph Ave: Tracy Nelson and Etta James. Tracy Nelson, lead vocal of Mother Earth, a R&B artist, (who my sister worshiped and swore if reincarnated wanted to
not only play the piano like Nelson but be able to cover, Nelson's stunning Down So Low whose album, Living with the Animals, wearing thin on the grooves, jarred the
neighbors above us and next door...and Etta. Dream team. There was sawdust on the floor; the cellar was stuffy and packed. And Jesus. Cigarette smoke, the surgeon general's nightmare, circulated and hung over us in hazy clouds. Glasses were clinking, people steeped in whatever were talking,dive club BS...Tracy Nelson finished her set just before mid-night; she was spectacular. 'Down so Low' had drained me. Kicked my ass. I was somewhere on another planet when Etta took the stage. From the moment the lyrics to her first song took flight, to her final notes, she was ethereal. R&B ethereal. I was sitting 10 feet from the platform; beads of sweat poured off her. But she was cool. Sassy. Raunchy. And knocked my socks off. Etta James. Six grammy's. 17 Blues Music awards. 1936-2012.

2. My mother died recently. This time it was different. I was in college when my father, 45, had a fatal heart attack. I don't remember much of those circumstances at all. It's a blur. Uncles and aunts gathered at the house. Pink dim sum boxes piled on tables. Lots of hard liquor being drained. My brother reminded me that it was raining at the cemetery. Sedated mother. Hysterical grandmother. Like so many of my friends before me (especially this past year) the death of the last parent is distinct. Unfamiliar. Separate from the first. The business of death is stacked before you. Siblings close rank. Last requests. Plot of land. Services. Obit. Dismantling of possessions. G'damn education on the fly. Inheritance becomes generational. We become what came before. I gave the eulogy. My mother loved Akaka Falls. Alyce. 1925-2011

Snow Flurries

1. I was home sick with some sort of flu like illness. Spring 1957? My parents had bought 2nd hand, an Admiral telly which we were only allowed to watch on the weekends after we had finished our home work. Of course if they went out, rules were meant to be broken...like turning on the tube, or letting the dog into the house to roam from room to room. Home alone and feeling crappy, I turned the telly on chugging through the 7 channel offerings and stumbling upon the 1944 movie,'Meet Me in St. Louis,' starring the great Judy Garland. Was this my first musical? No. But there was something magical about Garland's voice as she carried the film's story line from scene to scene. And then a strange unfamiliar thing happened to me. It was in the middle of, 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas', and it came from a place deep within me evoking feelings I'd never associated with movies or music or any sort of audio visual stimulation (yeah in the 60's we got a lot of help from our friends) and I was so overwhelmed by the emotional ping ponging of the lyrics and the music tugging at my heart (??), that I started to cry. It was a profound childhood moment. My first. Something other than disappointment, hurt or anger had moved me to tears. And it was stunning. Thank you Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane.

2. SNL. Jimmy Fallon hosting, scored on 2 skits...'Michael Buble Duets,' and the 'Tebow/Jesus'sketch. Instant classics.

3. Guns and riots over the release of the new retro Air Jordans yesterday. Come on, man. WTF?

4. Rooney Mara and Fincher. Fincher got a great performance from Mara in the American
version of 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.'It is darker, and edgier.Great sound track by NIN Trent Reznor.

5. According to noradsanta.org, next stop is Mount Everest, Nepal. Lumps of coal or not, warmest wishes and happy holidays to all.

Tebowed and other musings...

1. If you have been circling the earth in a space capsule or been shackled to the assembly line in the North Pole or just 'tuned out' and channel surf through the spectacle that is the NFL on Sunday, then you are missing one of the greatest stories
of the 2011 season. Tim Tebow. If the pointy ball is not your cup of tea, skip down to the second paragraph and have another cookie. The Tebow phenomenon, six straight wins, orchestrated as come back victories, most of them in the 4th quarter,is a combo of good luck and bad luck. A bad pass, a fumble, a missed field goal...could have derailed the train, but when you're streaking like Tebow is streaking, the bad breaks somehow deposit them at your cleats, and hot damn, you rally,strike the pose and rock the mother fracking free world. Tim Tebow in my league is not PC; the dude's notoriously pro life. Come on, man. But, for all the religion and issues that's he packing, I give him a nod for his exuberance and ferocity. He might not be able to pass like Aaron Rodgers, but he's uh, well a load to bring down and he can lead. This Sunday against the glam QB of the Eastern seaboard, Tom Brady, Tim T. might find himself 'in an unfamiliar position: 'Bradied.'

2. Waiting for Fincher's vision of 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.'
Have no doubt that it will be edgier, darker, and leave nothing to the imagination. Often times, double dipping the imagination is a spoiler. But, in a rare and impressive scene, the spectacular ending of Lars Van Trier's, 'Melancholia' iced the film...and sent it over the top. Sitting there just before the climatic ending, I thought naaaah not going to happen. Frack! So wrong.

3. Iraq. 8 years. Welcome home to the land of the 99%.