Parrot Head Memories

It’s the dead of winter in Houston, Texas and you’d think – given our other “season,” which is HOT - we’d appreciate this burst of arctic air. Then along comes the concert announcement that sends everyone’s head spinning like a margarita blender into a beachy, sunshine attitude: Jimmy Buffett is coming!

I love Jimmy Buffett. I’m a Parrot Head. I want a job where I can sing great songs, make people happy, travel the world and indulge my writing talent. How did I miss THAT major in college?

I remember the “Urban Cowboy” soundtrack, where “some guy named Buffett” sang a great dance song called “Hello, Texas!” There were concerts at G. Rollie White Coliseum in College Station, TX – concerts that required road trips to Houston to purchase Hawaiian shirts. The Hawaiian shirts made the trip to Ft. Lauderdale, where I saw him at Miami’s South Beach during Spring Break – right before we very thankfully decided to forego the tattoo.

In adult years (if you can call them that as I wear a straw hat with parrots, Mardi Gras beads and a cheeseburger on top of it), I’ve seen him inside and outside – at the old Summit in Houston as well as at the beautiful outdoor venue, Mitchell Pavilion. I’ve spilled beer on others and had the same returned to me. I’ve had a conga line trample the pizza our group was sharing. I know how to do the “Fins” dance and I don’t know where I’m-a-gonna go when the Volcano blows.

I’ve lived vicariously through several of his novels (yes, in case you didn’t know he’s also an author). I am pretty sure that Berkshire-Hathaway financial guru Warren Buffett secretly wishes they were related. His songs occupy a significant memory load on my i-Pod. I haven’t bought tickets to the concert in May yet, but plan to do that as soon as I finish looking for my lost shaker of salt!

Reality TV and the Demise of the Cultured World as We Know It

I’m not a snob. I didn’t grow up wealthy. I didn’t summer in the Hamptons or ask my “mummy” for anything. But I do appreciate culture…and I’m seeing a decrease in a lot of things that promote it. We can banter about texting and e-mailing versus books or the traditionally written word. Don’t even get me started about the insanity that is Twitter – my boss makes us do it, which is why you see it to your right.

No matter what the palette, fashion used to be driven by classic lines, timeless colors coupled with bold, maverick innovation. I hate that yesterday’s Chanel boucle suit is today’s thong showing above a low-rise jean; that a Shelby Mustang is now a Smart Car; or that a welcoming Henredon wing chair has been replaced by a toothpick futon. In this evolution, style and workmanship seem to have been replaced by portability, disposability and laziness.

Evolution is inevitable in all forms of culture…TV included. Classic comedies of the 50’s (I Love Lucy, The Honeymooners), the great westerns of the 60’s (Gunsmoke, Rawhide), the groundbreaking sitcoms of the 70’s (All in the Family, Sanford and Son), the eye-candy nighttime soaps of the 80’s (Dallas, Dynasty), the gritty crime dramas of the 90’s (NYPD Blue, Law and Order) – have all been eclipsed by what has been coined “the dumbing down of America.”

Eclipsed by what? Reality TV.

Let’s be honest here – there is NO reality in reality TV. Do you REALLY think a bachelor/bachelorette can find true love in a 13-week ratings period? Do you think Donald Trump would really fire someone who is attracting ratings? Shouldn’t I be afraid that viewers – MANY viewers – want to see contestants eat a variety of creatures and organisms that were never meant for human consumption? Why on earth as a wife, would I want to swap families with someone? Not only do I NOT want their problems – I wouldn’t impart the problems of our family on them. Nothing gets solved that way. And please – Super Nanny is just pointing out the obvious – bratty kids with lazy, selfish parents. From the promos, it looks as though she scolds the parents as much as the kids…and maybe that is good.

There are a few exceptions. Extreme Makeover Home Edition really helps families – one just hopes they are able to maintain the beautiful structure and it’s newly raised property taxes. The Biggest Loser is great for helping people get to a healthy weight – and hopefully the people are able to keep their weight at these healthful levels. Even The Donald, who I dogged previously, turned his reality show into a charity fundraiser, which is always a benefit.

But in general, Reality TV is a trend. It is cheap entertainment to produce. The “actors” don’t have to be talented – they simply entertain at the expense of their own pride and/or health. It’s not a slap to the programming budget if it fails. It’s easy to throw something our there and see what sticks.

If Marshall McLuhan was correct, and the medium IS the message, then send out an SOS right now! And take your hand off the remote!

My Own Personal Michael Jackson

On this day after the death of “King of Pop” Michael Jackson, the media is rampant with stories, theories, anecdotes, interviews and musical montages. It seems the key topics of information relate to the cause of his death, the amazing success of “Thriller” and MTV as well as all the allegations of child crimes. While I see their point and I realize what boosts ratings and sells papers, Jackson’s passing meant a trip down memory lane for me.

I remember being a 7-year old girl in 1969 Florida and having two posters on my bedroom wall: The Osmond Brothers and The Jackson 5. At the time, I didn’t think it might be breaking new ground to have a poster of a black (the phrase African-American had not yet been coined) pop group on my wall, but in the deep South, it showed how the very talented Jackson brothers were moving quickly into the mainstream. I just thought Michael (like Donny O) was “cute.” Take THAT, New Kids!

I remember many half-hours of joy, laughing at the cartoon antics of the Jackson 5, back before MTV or VH1 were the television promotional tools of choice for bands. The brothers had so much fun getting in and out of their harmless trouble each day, it was one of the few times I grumbled at being an only child.

I remember 10 years after the poster went up on the wall, winning a 1979 dancing contest at a dance held in the Conroe Sacred Heart Catholic Church, to the tune of “Don’t Stop ‘til You Get Enough.” Although I’m not Catholic, lots of my friends were and I was just glad they allowed dancing. Ironically, my prize was a Linda Ronstadt country-pop album, “Simple Dreams.”

I remember buying the cassette tape of “Thriller” and then thinking I’d better buy the album too because “it would probably be very popular and valuable someday.” Little did I know. And on top of that, my mom absent-mindedly sold it in a garage sale.

I remember moving into adulthood, dancing non-stop to songs like “PYT” and “Wanna Be Startin’ Something” in the trendy clubs of the 80’s. And I remember thinking, “man, I wish I could dance like him.” The adult side of my brain replied, “yeah, right!”

I know his last years were clouded with bizarre happenings, doubt about his character and controversy about his actions. I’m not sure I have an opinion on any of that because I believe none of us have all the facts. I will choose to remember him for the wonderful memories and music he left for me – left for us all. And thank goodness for the i-Pods that allow us to keep his music with us!

RIP, Michael – may your pain be ended.

Would Someone PLEASE Explain Kelly Ripa?

I've been home this week for Thanksgiving. Normally, I don't get to watch morning television. But this week I've been catching "Live with Regis and Kelly." And I'm puzzled. What is with Kelly Ripa?

I read in the media trades that the show is very popular, especially with women who are able to stay home in the mornings. Kelly fawns all over sweet, aging Regis like a granddaughter. Kelly is cute. Kelly is very fit. Kelly apparently is supermom and superwife. I think Kelly must appeal to a group of ladies who aspire to be like her -- and it must be a bigger group of women than the ones who think she is full of it. Obviously, I fall into the latter group.

I think Kelly is Regis's arm candy; a step up from Vanna White, except Vanna can spell. Kelly doesn't say anything compelling. She doesn't pose any thoughtful issues. I kid you not - the topic of conversation one morning this week was how Kelly and Reg decided to match their clothing colors. Did they steal that from Sesame Street? At least Kelly's husband Mark Consuelos is featured in a recurring bit on Oprah - Oprah's ranked a little higher in the Nielsen ratings.

I've seen the ads for various products that highlight Kelly as a overachieving robo-mom. I had seen Amy Pohler's portrayal of her on SNL and at the time I didn't get that Kelly's really like that. I laughed at the SNL "fake ad" that shows Kelly as a spokesmodel for haircolor laced with crack cocaine - implying that's how she makes it through each grueling day of TV fame, kids and family.

I will bet cold, hard cash that in reality, behind that perfect spouse and parent persona, there is a stable of employees who make sure her life runs smoothly. Or at least that's what I have to believe to not feel less accomplished, achieving and/or successful. Eeeek.

I guess I see now why my husband prefers talk radio...

Totally Lost in "Lost"

I am a woman obsessed. With the TV show, "Lost." Sure, sure - when I was in college, I was into "All My Children" and "General Hospital" as much as the next co-ed. But I never taped them. I never went to websites about the show or the characters. I didn't make sure I was home from a fun evening out to see the show first-hand.

But I do with "Lost." I need spoiler alerts. I need to know why Ben and Charles Widmore are at odds. I need to know Desmond and Penny will be together always. I need to know why Hurley doesn't lose any weight. I need to know the cute labrador retriever won't be killed by the smoke monster. It's frightening. Not the show - ME!?!

I've instructed my husband to alert my friends if I ever try to post a theory on a "Lost" fan website. It's for my own good. Help me before I get lost again...