Monday, March 31, 2008
I'm on Cash Cab tonight
I just got a call from a producer at the Discovery Channel (who knew they made house calls?) and she told me my appearance on that show, blogged about below, is airing tonight at 6pm.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Martha Stewart Living
Growing up working-class in Jersey City, her mother, her namesake, taught her how to sew. Her father, a Willy Loman-like salesman and failed doctor, instilled in her an intense ambition, as well as a passion for gardening. Her grandparents taught her how to can and preserve foods. Her elderly neighbors next door taught her to bake pies and cakes.
It was a perfect storm of home economics.
A serious child, she went to Barnard on a scholarship and made money as a part time model.
After college, she began a career as a stockbroker and moved to Connecticut with her husband. They restored and moved into a now-200 year old farmhouse.
It took nothing less to produce the most prominent professional homemaker the world had ever seen.
She became an editor at House Beautiful magazine and published the combination cookbook/party journal Entertaining. She became a common name in the New York Times and a common face on the Today Show. In time, she partnered with K-Mart, got her name on four magazine imprints, authored countless books, sold a nearly infinite range Martha-brand kitchen supplies, started a regular blog that she allegedly authors, stamped her name on a 24-hour satellite radio channel, founded a wine label, makes regular public appearances...
and was standing right in front of me a week ago, talking on the phone. That's part of the show. Her producer had a baby. The first five minutes of the show was Martha talking on the phone with her producer. I could read the teleprompter. Martha used it for talking points for the phone call, but she didn't follow it to the letter. She interrupted the new mama frequently.
But before we get ahead of ourselves, some stats:
Place Martha's show would get if I ranked all other shows in order of which has the brightest and cleanest studio:1
Number of apparently functional rooms that exist as a working part of her set: 4 (show kitchen, back kitchen, craft space, greenhouse)
Gifts I got: (1) small bottle of water before the show, (1) dog leash, given out frantically during commercial break by the warm-up guy, (1) ticket to the Bronx Botanical Garden
Anyway, the studio: way too much legroom. The windows are huge and bright and painted fairly convincingly like the Manhattan skyline. A hallway that cameras will never show is decorated with bookshelves and cabinets and carpet rather than being neglected. Much thought was put into this design.
The warm-up guy was short, stubbly-bearded, beady-eyed, and bespectacled. He sported a thick New York accent,
mildly effeminate mannerisms, and a painful need to please everyone, especially if that means running around in circles, moaning, flustered. He smiled too much and would most likely give a foot massage to every elderly woman who asked. He shouted"ladies!" when he wanted everyone's attention. He would not have been out of place on Sex in the City; in fact, he seemed out of place for not in the company of Ms. Bradshaw and her friends. In short, he seems less a natural human being than a carefully constructed character whose main purpose is to get women from middle America to exclaim, "oh, I just love New Yorkers!"
He told lousy jokes and danced the same funny neck dance several times. We waited for Martha. Jennifer Lopez and Jay-Z blasted over the speakers.
Martha came out and talked a lot about cookies, how to make her version of Girl Scouts' thin mints (she claims hers are better), and her new cookie book. She spoke, as usual, in that weird low voice. That "I caught a cold in the 4th grade and never remembered to get over it" voice. That "I'm actually a dead person and this is how dead people talk, didn't you know?" voice. She used spatulas. She had four sizes, each available in either wood or plastic, and she talked about how each one could be useful. She hawked that shit like a street vendor. Her media company is called Martha Stewart Omnimedia. That, to me, is a fine example of futuristic terror.
I wish I had scathing criticism of Martha's show. I wish I had stunning revelations. But to be honest, it's very tightly run and it delivers on its promises (boring though they may be to straight men). If Martha's your bag and you're visiting the New York City area, I can honestly recommend her show.
I leave you with Conan O'Brien visiting her on her 500th show, then a list. The clip isn't scandalous or even insightful. Instead, it's harmless, current, and mildly entertaining.
A list of things that prompted applause (not comprehensive):
the show cutting to commercial
the show coming on after commercial
a doily
a basket
List of things that failed to attract applause besides a single clap from me (which was quickly followed by embarrassment):
Patricia Clarkson announcing she's in the new Scorsese film
Tune in next week for 106 and Park (BET's version of TRL)
It was a perfect storm of home economics.
A serious child, she went to Barnard on a scholarship and made money as a part time model.
After college, she began a career as a stockbroker and moved to Connecticut with her husband. They restored and moved into a now-200 year old farmhouse.It took nothing less to produce the most prominent professional homemaker the world had ever seen.
She became an editor at House Beautiful magazine and published the combination cookbook/party journal Entertaining. She became a common name in the New York Times and a common face on the Today Show. In time, she partnered with K-Mart, got her name on four magazine imprints, authored countless books, sold a nearly infinite range Martha-brand kitchen supplies, started a regular blog that she allegedly authors, stamped her name on a 24-hour satellite radio channel, founded a wine label, makes regular public appearances...
and was standing right in front of me a week ago, talking on the phone. That's part of the show. Her producer had a baby. The first five minutes of the show was Martha talking on the phone with her producer. I could read the teleprompter. Martha used it for talking points for the phone call, but she didn't follow it to the letter. She interrupted the new mama frequently.
But before we get ahead of ourselves, some stats:
Place Martha's show would get if I ranked all other shows in order of which has the brightest and cleanest studio:1
Number of apparently functional rooms that exist as a working part of her set: 4 (show kitchen, back kitchen, craft space, greenhouse)
Gifts I got: (1) small bottle of water before the show, (1) dog leash, given out frantically during commercial break by the warm-up guy, (1) ticket to the Bronx Botanical Garden
Anyway, the studio: way too much legroom. The windows are huge and bright and painted fairly convincingly like the Manhattan skyline. A hallway that cameras will never show is decorated with bookshelves and cabinets and carpet rather than being neglected. Much thought was put into this design.
The warm-up guy was short, stubbly-bearded, beady-eyed, and bespectacled. He sported a thick New York accent,
mildly effeminate mannerisms, and a painful need to please everyone, especially if that means running around in circles, moaning, flustered. He smiled too much and would most likely give a foot massage to every elderly woman who asked. He shouted"ladies!" when he wanted everyone's attention. He would not have been out of place on Sex in the City; in fact, he seemed out of place for not in the company of Ms. Bradshaw and her friends. In short, he seems less a natural human being than a carefully constructed character whose main purpose is to get women from middle America to exclaim, "oh, I just love New Yorkers!"He told lousy jokes and danced the same funny neck dance several times. We waited for Martha. Jennifer Lopez and Jay-Z blasted over the speakers.
Martha came out and talked a lot about cookies, how to make her version of Girl Scouts' thin mints (she claims hers are better), and her new cookie book. She spoke, as usual, in that weird low voice. That "I caught a cold in the 4th grade and never remembered to get over it" voice. That "I'm actually a dead person and this is how dead people talk, didn't you know?" voice. She used spatulas. She had four sizes, each available in either wood or plastic, and she talked about how each one could be useful. She hawked that shit like a street vendor. Her media company is called Martha Stewart Omnimedia. That, to me, is a fine example of futuristic terror.
I wish I had scathing criticism of Martha's show. I wish I had stunning revelations. But to be honest, it's very tightly run and it delivers on its promises (boring though they may be to straight men). If Martha's your bag and you're visiting the New York City area, I can honestly recommend her show.
I leave you with Conan O'Brien visiting her on her 500th show, then a list. The clip isn't scandalous or even insightful. Instead, it's harmless, current, and mildly entertaining.
A list of things that prompted applause (not comprehensive):
the show cutting to commercial
the show coming on after commercial
a doily
a basket
List of things that failed to attract applause besides a single clap from me (which was quickly followed by embarrassment):
Patricia Clarkson announcing she's in the new Scorsese film
Tune in next week for 106 and Park (BET's version of TRL)
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Premiere of Bjork's new video, Wanderlust
Percent of Bjork's Icelandic accent that she has retained in these years spent in the States: 100.
Times I made eye contact with her: 0.
Times I tried hard to make eye contact with her: 2.
Times I felt creepy for trying so hard to make eye contact with her: 2.
Times Bjork was honored with one of this year's Icelandic Music Awards: 2
Yes, I promised there would be Martha today. I am very, very sorry. Next week. For real.
I picked up on the rumor that there was a guerrilla screening of a new Bjork video. Since this meant I could join a small number of people who were tangentially involved in the creation of a short video segment that will later debut to the public, I deemed this worthy of a post. First, the song, Wanderlust. As performed at the Coachella music festival last year:
For starters, all I knew going in was this flyer on her website:
It was accompanied by the text "If you can't attend this one, there will be one more screening: on Friday, March 14 at 7pm in the Kaufmann Auditorium, American Museum of Natural History in NYC." And it was there that we went.
As is a consistent theme with this blog, we waited outside for maybe an hour before being ushered in. Apparently they planned on only one video screening/Q&A session, but enough people showed that they had to do the whole process twice. Buzz was running high amongst the people in line with me. "I mean, come on, it's Bjork," said one hip chick behind me. "We shouldn't go in with any preconceived notions. I'll almost be surprised if she doesn't shower us with whipped cream as we enter."
We weren't showered with any foodstuffs; however, we were handed 3-D glasses (the clear kind, not the one-eye-red, one-eye-blue kind) as we entered.
We were greeted by a man who I think was Greg Dinkins, the head of the New York Stereoscopic Society. These people are crazy about 3-D glasses and the things you see with them. They just eat 'em up! With the risk of hyperbole duly noted, I think this presumed Mr. Dinkins was the most awkward public speaker I've seen in my life. A sample.
"Well. We're here to see... this... video. It's an incredible... work. Thanks for joining us at... this... um... auditorium. In the museum. You probably want to... uh... see the video... soon."
And so on. Then a gentleman with an Appalachian accent, one not dissimilar to that heard in my native land, jumped up on stage and asked everyone to put on their glasses and hold still. He wanted to take our picture.
I tapped the woman in front of me on the shoulder. "This is the place to see the new Bjork video, right?" I whispered.
"I think so," she said.
I don't know if I'll ever see the photo, but I'm confident it looks just like the picture on the right.
I originally posted Michel Gondry's video for Bjork's Human Behavior as an example of what the Wanderlust video looks like. I've replaced it "Knife" by Grizzly Bear, as the Encyclopedia Pictura guys said it's what drew Bjork to them in the first place. Personally, I find Grizzly Bear's music on the boring side, despite indie rock's most pretentious tastemakers arguing otherwise and the fact that its singer is a very entertaining interviewee. Knife is a far more interesting video than song, in my opinion.
Wanderlust is like that, except it stars Bjork, it's even cooler, has a good song, and is in 3-D. It's eventually going to be available in 2-D form on the internets eventually.
The plot of the Wanderlust video:
Bjork is somewhere in a bright forest that's defined by mountains and rivers. A god who looks like Bjork creates new river paths by scraping her/his hand across mossy dirt. (Picture a child messing up a birthday cake.) Also, Bjork is friends with a number of cool-looking buffalo (see that promo photo above). These buffalo can float and don't mind Bjork riding them down the river. She floats along swimmingly.
Then, all of a sudden, Bjork's backpack sprouts arms and legs! And a head! It's a Pain-Body, that physical manifestation of the dissatisfaction that results from equating self with ego and body, as described by respected-as-much-as-a-New-Age-spiritual-guru-can-be Eckhart Tolle! Oh no! Bjork's gonna have to fight that Pain-Body by doing tons of flips on that buffalo! Is she gonna do a ton of flips while riding that buffalo down the river? She is!
I won't spoil the ending, but I will say this: we end up meeting a different god, one of the river, who acts as midwife to a certain Icelandic pop-star after she's swallowed by the river/birth canal. Got it?
After they showed the eight-minute video, which received thunderous applause, Mr. Dinkin invited the three principal filmmakers (two from Encyclopedia Pictura and one from Ghost Robot, all from San Francisco) came up for some Q&A.
"Actually, guys, you didn't need to come up here," Dinkin said as they came up there after he called them up there. "I've got microphones and they're wireless. You can go back to your seat."
The three guys looked at each other. "Well, we're here now," one of them said.
"But you can go to where you were and stand if you want," Dinkin said. "If you want."
"This way, everyone can see us," said another filmmaker. "I think we'll stand here."
Dinkin processed this for a minute. "Okay. You can stay there."
Then they entertained questions for nearly an hour. My favorite exchange was with a middle-aged blond woman. She asked:
"So, that was an Eckhart Tolle Pain-Body back there?"
"Yes."
"Do you think the American populace is going to realize what you were going for?"
"No."
But almost all of the other questions were in the parlance of the stereoscopic nerd and sounded something like this:
"Were your anaglyphs achieved with a bipolar medulla oblongata rig, or did you wing it with a cavernous Sally?"
As my interest in this kind of dialogue waned, another event popped up to compete with my attention. Slowly at first, and then more and more apparent, were races being held by two young girls. Up an aisle they would rush, then down that aisle. Each time they got a little more vocal. Finally someone asked what it was like working with Bjork. Then, like something from a dream, she rose out of the audience, where she had been sitting like a commoner. She came to the stage, clasping the smaller girl in her arms as she went. She is a magnetic woman. And the girls were her daughters.
"I'd like to thak awl of sees people involved. They had so much passion. They showed so much harrdth."
They showed the video again, and again it received massive applause. Bjork asked everyone who was involved with the production to stand, as who knew when they'd all be in the same room together?
More than half the audience stood. But that didn't diminish the value of that applause, in my book. Not one bit.
Next week: Martha. I promise, I promise, I promise.
I leave you with Michel Gondry solving a Rubik's Cube with his nose.
Times I made eye contact with her: 0.
Times I tried hard to make eye contact with her: 2.
Times I felt creepy for trying so hard to make eye contact with her: 2.
Times Bjork was honored with one of this year's Icelandic Music Awards: 2
Yes, I promised there would be Martha today. I am very, very sorry. Next week. For real.
I picked up on the rumor that there was a guerrilla screening of a new Bjork video. Since this meant I could join a small number of people who were tangentially involved in the creation of a short video segment that will later debut to the public, I deemed this worthy of a post. First, the song, Wanderlust. As performed at the Coachella music festival last year:
For starters, all I knew going in was this flyer on her website:
It was accompanied by the text "If you can't attend this one, there will be one more screening: on Friday, March 14 at 7pm in the Kaufmann Auditorium, American Museum of Natural History in NYC." And it was there that we went.As is a consistent theme with this blog, we waited outside for maybe an hour before being ushered in. Apparently they planned on only one video screening/Q&A session, but enough people showed that they had to do the whole process twice. Buzz was running high amongst the people in line with me. "I mean, come on, it's Bjork," said one hip chick behind me. "We shouldn't go in with any preconceived notions. I'll almost be surprised if she doesn't shower us with whipped cream as we enter."
We weren't showered with any foodstuffs; however, we were handed 3-D glasses (the clear kind, not the one-eye-red, one-eye-blue kind) as we entered.
We were greeted by a man who I think was Greg Dinkins, the head of the New York Stereoscopic Society. These people are crazy about 3-D glasses and the things you see with them. They just eat 'em up! With the risk of hyperbole duly noted, I think this presumed Mr. Dinkins was the most awkward public speaker I've seen in my life. A sample.
"Well. We're here to see... this... video. It's an incredible... work. Thanks for joining us at... this... um... auditorium. In the museum. You probably want to... uh... see the video... soon."
And so on. Then a gentleman with an Appalachian accent, one not dissimilar to that heard in my native land, jumped up on stage and asked everyone to put on their glasses and hold still. He wanted to take our picture.
I tapped the woman in front of me on the shoulder. "This is the place to see the new Bjork video, right?" I whispered.
"I think so," she said.
I don't know if I'll ever see the photo, but I'm confident it looks just like the picture on the right.
I originally posted Michel Gondry's video for Bjork's Human Behavior as an example of what the Wanderlust video looks like. I've replaced it "Knife" by Grizzly Bear, as the Encyclopedia Pictura guys said it's what drew Bjork to them in the first place. Personally, I find Grizzly Bear's music on the boring side, despite indie rock's most pretentious tastemakers arguing otherwise and the fact that its singer is a very entertaining interviewee. Knife is a far more interesting video than song, in my opinion.
Wanderlust is like that, except it stars Bjork, it's even cooler, has a good song, and is in 3-D. It's eventually going to be available in 2-D form on the internets eventually.
The plot of the Wanderlust video:
Bjork is somewhere in a bright forest that's defined by mountains and rivers. A god who looks like Bjork creates new river paths by scraping her/his hand across mossy dirt. (Picture a child messing up a birthday cake.) Also, Bjork is friends with a number of cool-looking buffalo (see that promo photo above). These buffalo can float and don't mind Bjork riding them down the river. She floats along swimmingly.
Then, all of a sudden, Bjork's backpack sprouts arms and legs! And a head! It's a Pain-Body, that physical manifestation of the dissatisfaction that results from equating self with ego and body, as described by respected-as-much-as-a-New-Age-spiritual-guru-can-be Eckhart Tolle! Oh no! Bjork's gonna have to fight that Pain-Body by doing tons of flips on that buffalo! Is she gonna do a ton of flips while riding that buffalo down the river? She is!
I won't spoil the ending, but I will say this: we end up meeting a different god, one of the river, who acts as midwife to a certain Icelandic pop-star after she's swallowed by the river/birth canal. Got it?
After they showed the eight-minute video, which received thunderous applause, Mr. Dinkin invited the three principal filmmakers (two from Encyclopedia Pictura and one from Ghost Robot, all from San Francisco) came up for some Q&A.
"Actually, guys, you didn't need to come up here," Dinkin said as they came up there after he called them up there. "I've got microphones and they're wireless. You can go back to your seat."
The three guys looked at each other. "Well, we're here now," one of them said.
"But you can go to where you were and stand if you want," Dinkin said. "If you want."
"This way, everyone can see us," said another filmmaker. "I think we'll stand here."
Dinkin processed this for a minute. "Okay. You can stay there."
Then they entertained questions for nearly an hour. My favorite exchange was with a middle-aged blond woman. She asked:
"So, that was an Eckhart Tolle Pain-Body back there?"
"Yes."
"Do you think the American populace is going to realize what you were going for?"
"No."
But almost all of the other questions were in the parlance of the stereoscopic nerd and sounded something like this:
"Were your anaglyphs achieved with a bipolar medulla oblongata rig, or did you wing it with a cavernous Sally?"
As my interest in this kind of dialogue waned, another event popped up to compete with my attention. Slowly at first, and then more and more apparent, were races being held by two young girls. Up an aisle they would rush, then down that aisle. Each time they got a little more vocal. Finally someone asked what it was like working with Bjork. Then, like something from a dream, she rose out of the audience, where she had been sitting like a commoner. She came to the stage, clasping the smaller girl in her arms as she went. She is a magnetic woman. And the girls were her daughters.
"I'd like to thak awl of sees people involved. They had so much passion. They showed so much harrdth."
They showed the video again, and again it received massive applause. Bjork asked everyone who was involved with the production to stand, as who knew when they'd all be in the same room together?
More than half the audience stood. But that didn't diminish the value of that applause, in my book. Not one bit.
Next week: Martha. I promise, I promise, I promise.
I leave you with Michel Gondry solving a Rubik's Cube with his nose.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Cash Cab
I signed a contract. I am legally forbidden from publicly speaking about much of my experience on Cash Cab, and I'm not going to hint about it and ask you to read between the lines. I do not begrudge the producers of this in any way, but it seriously hinders my description. Some day I'll post the full story, though I don't think I can while this show is still on the air.
It's somewhere around 7:30pm and I'm in the Upper East Side. As Megan, Ned, and I climb into one of those van-cabs. If you live in New York, you know what I mean. If you've never been, you can imagine it. It's a van that is painted like, and functions like, a cab.
We ask the driver to take us to the main library at Bryant Park. The driver starts rasping at us, nearly unintelligibly. He actually sort of sounded like a mentally challenged person. This was probably either for the producers to get some reaction shots of us, or because the guy was bored. He was white, which isn't often the case with NYC cabs, and had a big bald head. I had a slight sense that something was up. I recall purposefully not reacting, not being alarmed, because the cab was very nice and clean, and surely the City wouldn't give a license to someone gravely unqualified. Also, there were electronics in the ceiling of the cab, which I soon surmised were lights and cameras.
Then the square, disco-ish lights flashed on the ceiling of the cab, and the ruse was up. Driver-host-comedian Ben Bailey parked and turned around and in his normal voice welcomed us to the show. A producer showed up and opened the door. She congratulated us and gave a rundown of how the show works: you're in a cab for x number of blocks. You're asked progressively harder questions. Each one right gets you money. Three wrong and you're kicked off and get no money. You can ask two people for help: call someone on the phone, and stop someone on the street.
At this, I clandestinely whipped out my cellphone. Long ago my friend John and I established a number of hypotheticals, like what we'd do in case of a zombie apocalypse, how we'd like our funerals conducted, and who we'd use as our Lifeline if we were on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. John is firmly my answer to that last one, and he's often guilty of not answering his phone. So while the producer was still talking, I excitedly texted him "EMERGENCY", then stowed my phone.
When the producer finished talking, she informed us we could now call someone to be on standby. We could say no one was in any danger, and to please be ready for a call in the next half hour or so, but little else. I pulled out my phone. I had six missed calls from John, as well as a few texts from concerned friends who had heard that something drastic had happened. I called him back, said I was fine, be ready to answer a call soon, and be smart. By that I meant be near a computer with Google pulled up, which is not something I think he did.
Other cabs recognized the flashing lights inside ours and gave friendly honks. It made me think of how, if I were swimming in the ocean and friendly dolphins were around, they might swim alongside me for a little while, barking those clicking noises in an encouraging way.
Ben Bailey, the host, is a funny guy, and sort of personable. He swore at people on the road when we weren't taping. He called someone a "son of a whore" and we laughed politely. I admire his ability to host a TV show and drive in Manhattan at the same time. We mostly just went down Broadway, but still.
Next week: Martha Stewart
It's somewhere around 7:30pm and I'm in the Upper East Side. As Megan, Ned, and I climb into one of those van-cabs. If you live in New York, you know what I mean. If you've never been, you can imagine it. It's a van that is painted like, and functions like, a cab.
We ask the driver to take us to the main library at Bryant Park. The driver starts rasping at us, nearly unintelligibly. He actually sort of sounded like a mentally challenged person. This was probably either for the producers to get some reaction shots of us, or because the guy was bored. He was white, which isn't often the case with NYC cabs, and had a big bald head. I had a slight sense that something was up. I recall purposefully not reacting, not being alarmed, because the cab was very nice and clean, and surely the City wouldn't give a license to someone gravely unqualified. Also, there were electronics in the ceiling of the cab, which I soon surmised were lights and cameras.
Then the square, disco-ish lights flashed on the ceiling of the cab, and the ruse was up. Driver-host-comedian Ben Bailey parked and turned around and in his normal voice welcomed us to the show. A producer showed up and opened the door. She congratulated us and gave a rundown of how the show works: you're in a cab for x number of blocks. You're asked progressively harder questions. Each one right gets you money. Three wrong and you're kicked off and get no money. You can ask two people for help: call someone on the phone, and stop someone on the street.
At this, I clandestinely whipped out my cellphone. Long ago my friend John and I established a number of hypotheticals, like what we'd do in case of a zombie apocalypse, how we'd like our funerals conducted, and who we'd use as our Lifeline if we were on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. John is firmly my answer to that last one, and he's often guilty of not answering his phone. So while the producer was still talking, I excitedly texted him "EMERGENCY", then stowed my phone.
When the producer finished talking, she informed us we could now call someone to be on standby. We could say no one was in any danger, and to please be ready for a call in the next half hour or so, but little else. I pulled out my phone. I had six missed calls from John, as well as a few texts from concerned friends who had heard that something drastic had happened. I called him back, said I was fine, be ready to answer a call soon, and be smart. By that I meant be near a computer with Google pulled up, which is not something I think he did.
We re-shot me hailing a cab, as apparently there weren't sneaky camera-people hiding a few feet away when we did it the first time. I don't think this makes the show inauthentic. I do think that America will soon see me hailing a cab with bad form.
I cannot state the results of the show until it airs. I will state that Ned performed admirably, and that Megan and I were of little help. I will also state that the show's questions have gotten far, far harder than they once were, as evidenced in this older episode:Other cabs recognized the flashing lights inside ours and gave friendly honks. It made me think of how, if I were swimming in the ocean and friendly dolphins were around, they might swim alongside me for a little while, barking those clicking noises in an encouraging way.
Ben Bailey, the host, is a funny guy, and sort of personable. He swore at people on the road when we weren't taping. He called someone a "son of a whore" and we laughed politely. I admire his ability to host a TV show and drive in Manhattan at the same time. We mostly just went down Broadway, but still.
Next week: Martha Stewart
Friday, March 7, 2008
The (Actual) Montel Williams Show
After our rousing pre-show warmup, where Montel proved himself completely and utterly batshit insane (see Thursday's post), we moved on to the real show, with a subject fascinating to us all: germs. Also, the important of disinfectants.
The show's coming on in six...five...four...
Montel turned to us, big grin on his face, arms out, palms pointed upward, and adopted the tone of a kindergarten teacher.
"Big smiles! Sit up straight!"
Every single time we came back from commercial, he did this. Every time.
Out came a microbiologist from the University of Arizona School of Public Health. Her introduction was a good example of the two sides of Montel's stage personality: Funny Class Clown, and Guru On Pretty Much Anything. First, the Clown:
"Please welcome Dr. Kelly Reynolds to the show! Dr. Kelly, when you were in school, you actually said, 'Hey, I like learning about germs. I want to study germs for the rest of my life.'"
She laughs. "That's right."
"That's crazy!"
Soon, she was giving tips on how to keep a kitchen clean. Montel quickly switched to Guru mode and interrupted: "When I'm cooking chicken at home, I clean my sink first. Then I just prepare the chicken in the sink, and so when I'm done, I clean it again, but I don't have to clean up my whole kitchen!"
"That's a good idea!" Kelly said. She was chipper and clearly pretty much game for anything. "Remember, clean your sink with bleach."
At Montel's prompting, she soon talked about the biggest germ hotspots in the average household. When she got to the bathroom, she used the phrase "fecal bacteria".
Montel reverted to Clown, turned to the audience, pulled a Jim Varney/Ernest scrunched up face, and squealed:
"Fecal bacteria? Eeeeeeeewwwww!"
As evidenced by the Q&A prologue, the man seems to get a real kick out of telling his viewers what to do. If the makeup of the audience at the show with me is at all representative, his viewers are overwhelmingly composed of middle-aged women. Before the show, Reynolds had swabbed the handbags of fifteen or so women, and she revealed the shocking diagnoses during the show. Diagnosis: dirty.
"You know you do it, ladies," Montel quickly chided. "You've got a big ol' bag, you're out to eat at a restaurant, and there's not enough room on the table, so you put it on the floor. Or you're in the bathroom and instead of hanging it up on a hook, you put it on the ground. Where all the fecal bacteria is."
Montel is in touch with the day-to-day doings of the Everywoman.
"Your bags are even under your seats right now! Picking up all kinds of germs!" He smiled. For the first and last time I was in his studio, I felt he was kidding. When we got there, we all were instructed to put our belongings below our seats.
Then, as it did several times during the show, often interrupting people mid-sentence, even Montel, the prize bell went off. That means:
- Someone in the audience is given a prize
- Montel's eyes are going to get really, really big.
- His grin is going to get really, really big.
Montel brought out a second doctor, Dr. Manny Alvarez. He's not a microbiologist. He's a television doctor with apparently real medical qualifications. He was not interesting.
We moved to a taped segment where Dr. Reynolds went to a family's house and tested it for germs. Their house has a bathroom. Their girls played with Barbie dolls in the bathtub.
We cut to commercial.
I happened to be sitting in the front row, and the parents of this family, Melody and Ron, came and sat next to me. They're from Tempe, Arizona. The show flew them, and not their daughters, to New York for a few days, booked them a hotel, and gave them a small stipend. This arrangement, they said, was an absolutely ideal vacation. How did they get picked to be on the show? They're well involved in Girl Scouts, and their local chapter got an email looking for someone who's obsessively clean. They forwarded it to Melody, who considers herself a bit of a clean freak, and it was a perfect match.
When the segment finished, Reynolds read the results of the tests to the audience, dramatic NBC game show style.
"Your bathroom has...four hundred thousand fecal bacteria!" (Cue Montel's Ewww face.)
"Your girls' Barbies have...twenty thousand fecal bacteria!"
Melody was aghast.
As a prize for this taking this disturbing news publicly and like champs, Reynolds and Montel gifted the couple with brand new Barbies for their daughters. They held them awkwardly on their laps.
We cut to commercial.
Montel pointed at the Barbies. "I'm going to have to ask you to put those on the floor for the rest of the taping."
Monday, March 3, 2008
The Montel Williams Pre-Show Q&A
Pre-show warmup: Coffee and donuts
Times I was late to the show and had to return the next day for a different taping: 1
Quality of the pre-show Q&A: So good, it filled the entirety of this post. I'll post more Montel Saturday.
This is an exciting time to be Montel Williams. This is his last season on the air. I'd always written him off as talk show trash, a compatriot of Jerry Springer and Ricki Lake. My loss. A few days after I started this project, I caught this clip from his appearance on Fox News.
He didn't return after that moment. I love how someone in the editing room keeps shifting away to pictures and footage of Heath Ledger when Montel is talking. Brilliant.
Anyway, after we filed in to see the show, we were treated to a brief Q&A with the man. I, emboldened after watching him act so bravely on Fox, asked him if the show was ending because someone at Fox didn't like him speaking truth to power. I paraphrase his response, addressed not just to me but to the whole audience:
"Many of you probably don't know the incident this gentleman is referring to. I was recently on a news show to promote my new book. My publicist told them before booking my appearance that I would only come on to promote my new book. Before I came on the air they asked if we could talk about Heath Ledger. I said, 'No. I'm here to talk about my new book.' They said ok. Then we go live, and the first thing they do is ask me about Heath Ledger. Well, nobody pushes me around like that. I fight back."
His story didn't even hint at how he brought up Iraq. Maybe he was putting on a self-aggrandizing facade in order to actually be modest, I thought. The next twenty minutes gave me a good impression of the extent of his modesty.
"Some people say this is why I'm ending my show this season," he continued. "That my show's canceled because some bigwig didn't like me refusing to play nice. That's not true. This is the year my contract ends, and I chose not to renew it. I spent seventeen years in service with the military, then seventeen years in service with television. It's time to move on to the next seventeen years. Something big is happening."
People moved on with their questions, but it was obvious his allusion to "something big" piqued a lot of interest.
One person: "Is the next big thing for you movies?"
Montel: "Hollywood would love to have me. They've been trying to get me for seventeen years. But people don't know it; I'm already in movies. You can go to the video store right now and pick up a movie called... it's called..." He paused for a moment. "War, Inc. [editor's note: it's since been released, and wasn't reviewed much or well]. It stars John Cusack. I play the voice of his car's navigational system. I give him advice. It's funny stuff. Next question."
Someone asked, "Montel, what are you reading?"
"I am a voracious reader. I've read sixty-three books in the past three months, all about the same subject." He held his gaze with the crowd. "Poker. I am a fanatic poker player. Next question."
Someone asked, "Montel, what kind of music do you listen to?"
"I love all kinds of music. People say their music tastes are diverse? I really do listen to all kinds of music. In the past few days I've listened to everything from Led Zeppelin, to Dr. Dre, to the Beatles, to DeBussy, to Dr. Dre, to... Led Zeppelin. Everything. I love music. Next question."
Someone asked, "Montel, who do you support for president?"
His tone changed slightly. "I don't want to put you on the spot," he replied, "but this is something that really bugs me. Why are celebrities supposed to tell normal people who to vote for? What gives them the right? Because you know they're not looking out for the interests of normal people like you and me. They're picking a candidate they know, and you'd better believe they're trying to get a job with that candidacy if they win. Next question."
Someone asked, "Montel, would you ever run for office?"
Ding ding! That's the million dollar question.
Montel was quiet for a moment. "You know what this country really needs? There are decisions that are unpopular but need to be made, that are good for the country. I'm talking about the kind of tough decisions that might get one shot. That's the kind of thing that gets somebody assassinated. But that's something I'd be willing to do. What's one life compared to all of America? Next question."
Someone stood and said, "Montel, one thing politicians need to realize is that we want to keep jobs in America."
"This is something else that bugs me. We have all these people who are so concerned about illegal immigrants. 'Oh, illegals take our jobs! Illegals are ruining this country! I tell you what. They're doing what nobody else wants to do in America. I promise you this. I can walk into any high school--into the high school down the street. I can offer to the kids there a big sum-- $20 an hour--to come into an orchard with me and pick oranges. And they won't do it. They won't do it! I tell you this: farmers in America have fruit that is literally falling off trees. You ask a farmer--
"I'm a farmer," said the woman who asked the question.
"See?" replied Montel. "You're a farmer. You know what I'm talking about. There are farmers in southern California--"
"We actually hire the local kids in the summer, when school lets out," she said.
"That's what I'm saying," Montel said. "There are farms in California where fruit is literally falling off of trees, and if only illegal immigrants are willing to pick it, then I say let them stay. Next question."
Someone stood and said, "Montel, the government should melt down all our pennies. Why don't we have copper doorknobs?" [Editor's note: apparently copper is much less of a haven for germs than most materials, and this is a cause for great concerned among, I guess, people who home-school their kids.]
"I completely agree with you, but copper's at a premium. I would love to see those doorknobs across America. Our show today is about germs. But listen to me--it ain't gonna happen."
-----
Saturday: A bonus post, one detailing the actual Montel show, on Saturday.
Update: it's Here
Next Thursday: Cash Cab
Times I was late to the show and had to return the next day for a different taping: 1
Quality of the pre-show Q&A: So good, it filled the entirety of this post. I'll post more Montel Saturday.
This is an exciting time to be Montel Williams. This is his last season on the air. I'd always written him off as talk show trash, a compatriot of Jerry Springer and Ricki Lake. My loss. A few days after I started this project, I caught this clip from his appearance on Fox News.
He didn't return after that moment. I love how someone in the editing room keeps shifting away to pictures and footage of Heath Ledger when Montel is talking. Brilliant.
Anyway, after we filed in to see the show, we were treated to a brief Q&A with the man. I, emboldened after watching him act so bravely on Fox, asked him if the show was ending because someone at Fox didn't like him speaking truth to power. I paraphrase his response, addressed not just to me but to the whole audience:
"Many of you probably don't know the incident this gentleman is referring to. I was recently on a news show to promote my new book. My publicist told them before booking my appearance that I would only come on to promote my new book. Before I came on the air they asked if we could talk about Heath Ledger. I said, 'No. I'm here to talk about my new book.' They said ok. Then we go live, and the first thing they do is ask me about Heath Ledger. Well, nobody pushes me around like that. I fight back."
His story didn't even hint at how he brought up Iraq. Maybe he was putting on a self-aggrandizing facade in order to actually be modest, I thought. The next twenty minutes gave me a good impression of the extent of his modesty.
"Some people say this is why I'm ending my show this season," he continued. "That my show's canceled because some bigwig didn't like me refusing to play nice. That's not true. This is the year my contract ends, and I chose not to renew it. I spent seventeen years in service with the military, then seventeen years in service with television. It's time to move on to the next seventeen years. Something big is happening."
People moved on with their questions, but it was obvious his allusion to "something big" piqued a lot of interest.
One person: "Is the next big thing for you movies?"
Montel: "Hollywood would love to have me. They've been trying to get me for seventeen years. But people don't know it; I'm already in movies. You can go to the video store right now and pick up a movie called... it's called..." He paused for a moment. "War, Inc. [editor's note: it's since been released, and wasn't reviewed much or well]. It stars John Cusack. I play the voice of his car's navigational system. I give him advice. It's funny stuff. Next question."
Someone asked, "Montel, what are you reading?"
"I am a voracious reader. I've read sixty-three books in the past three months, all about the same subject." He held his gaze with the crowd. "Poker. I am a fanatic poker player. Next question."
Someone asked, "Montel, what kind of music do you listen to?"
"I love all kinds of music. People say their music tastes are diverse? I really do listen to all kinds of music. In the past few days I've listened to everything from Led Zeppelin, to Dr. Dre, to the Beatles, to DeBussy, to Dr. Dre, to... Led Zeppelin. Everything. I love music. Next question."
Someone asked, "Montel, who do you support for president?"
His tone changed slightly. "I don't want to put you on the spot," he replied, "but this is something that really bugs me. Why are celebrities supposed to tell normal people who to vote for? What gives them the right? Because you know they're not looking out for the interests of normal people like you and me. They're picking a candidate they know, and you'd better believe they're trying to get a job with that candidacy if they win. Next question."
Someone asked, "Montel, would you ever run for office?"
Ding ding! That's the million dollar question.
Montel was quiet for a moment. "You know what this country really needs? There are decisions that are unpopular but need to be made, that are good for the country. I'm talking about the kind of tough decisions that might get one shot. That's the kind of thing that gets somebody assassinated. But that's something I'd be willing to do. What's one life compared to all of America? Next question."
Someone stood and said, "Montel, one thing politicians need to realize is that we want to keep jobs in America."
"This is something else that bugs me. We have all these people who are so concerned about illegal immigrants. 'Oh, illegals take our jobs! Illegals are ruining this country! I tell you what. They're doing what nobody else wants to do in America. I promise you this. I can walk into any high school--into the high school down the street. I can offer to the kids there a big sum-- $20 an hour--to come into an orchard with me and pick oranges. And they won't do it. They won't do it! I tell you this: farmers in America have fruit that is literally falling off trees. You ask a farmer--
"I'm a farmer," said the woman who asked the question.
"See?" replied Montel. "You're a farmer. You know what I'm talking about. There are farmers in southern California--"
"We actually hire the local kids in the summer, when school lets out," she said.
"That's what I'm saying," Montel said. "There are farms in California where fruit is literally falling off of trees, and if only illegal immigrants are willing to pick it, then I say let them stay. Next question."
Someone stood and said, "Montel, the government should melt down all our pennies. Why don't we have copper doorknobs?" [Editor's note: apparently copper is much less of a haven for germs than most materials, and this is a cause for great concerned among, I guess, people who home-school their kids.]
"I completely agree with you, but copper's at a premium. I would love to see those doorknobs across America. Our show today is about germs. But listen to me--it ain't gonna happen."
-----
Saturday: A bonus post, one detailing the actual Montel show, on Saturday.
Update: it's Here
Next Thursday: Cash Cab
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