Sit back and enjoy the show...eventually

movie-going in the US has hit rock bottom. it used to be that you purchased your $3 tickets from the counter, walk into the theater, sit down, watch 3 brief previews, and watch your selected movie as it starts....on time.

eventually, corporate advertisers recognized the captive audience scenario and began creative ways of infiltrating the hallowed grounds of the cinema. brief reruns of old ads for coke, pepsi, and other confectionaries soon gave way to product placements in the films themselves. and now the advertisments have mutated, growing larger, stronger--and longer. ad space has been granted mini-movie status at some of the larger theater complexes and has brought the movie experience to an all-time low.

last evening, CJ and i headed to downtown 5280 to catch "you, me and dupree." every once in a while, even intellectuals need a mindless laugh or 10 (and what red-blooded american male doesn't want to see the new and improved kate hudson prance around in little undies? rave for another day...). we had it all planned out. we'd grab a quick bite at paramount cafe across from the theater, catch the 5:30 show, and still be back to my place in time for the first run of this week's entourage. we finished our average-to-above-average food and people watching at 5:20 and headed across the street.

by my time keeper (phone, i don't wear a watch), we bought our tickets at 5:30 and headed into the theater, fully expecting to walk in at the beginning of the previews. dead. wrong.

we headed to our seats and sat down staring at the blank silver screen. the lights were still on full blare, as if we'd arrived 20 minutes early, when in fact, we were almost 10 minutes late (CJ has a walking cast and walks slower than mr. magoo). the reel started, um, reeling and away we went....or so i thought.

it was 5:40, ten minutes after the scheduled showing of our movie, and only 2 hours and 20 minutes to entourage. "coke is refreshing." "if you're tired of dropped calls, drop your network and get cingular." "coke is refreshing." "toyota--moving forward." i fucking get it! coke is refreshing. now can i please have a pepsi?! "turn off your cell phones serviced by cingular." "regal cinemas thanks you for coming. enjoy your coke." the only thing that would have made this remotely entertaining would have been a genital herpes commercial. seeing 30 people in a theater all grow silent and stiff would have been priceless. no dice.

the previews, mercifully, started after 25 minutes of being an ad critic against my will. the movie guy voice filled the theater and introduced us to 5, not 3, 5 upcoming films. none of them enticing, by the way. i mentioned aloud how ridiculous this whole thing was, and had half a mind to find the theater manager and just start screaming. not that it would have done any good, but it would have made me feel better.

25 minutes of ads, 15 minutes of previews and 5 minutes of the compulsory "no talking, turn off your cell phones, enjoy our refreshments" messaging, the featured presentation finally started--about 45 minutes late.

this whole "experience" reminded me again of exactly why i hate going out to see a movie. sure, the film was, mindlessly funny, and kate hudson looked more amazing than anything i could have dreamed up (an image that will remain in my fantasies till my dying day), but i'm sure it would have been just as funny and she would have been just as unbelievably sexy if i waited a few months and rented the dvd, which can be controlled by a remote...with a fast forward button.

for a society controlled by the clock (read: NOT europe), it comes as a great surprise to me that a venue so regimented by time could so blatently disregard it. coke's money has now grown to even greater importance than patrons' time, which gives new meaning to the term "sold-out show."

one night in paris

paris hilton has been restored to her original splendor and beauty. this must be the most extensive, expensive of the "re-virgining" procedures i've been hearing so much about on the news. according to sources, it took about 2 years and $25 million to reverse the years of neglect she had endured. among some of her more, um, telling problems were leaking within her plumbing, her entrances (both front and rear) were no longer able to sustain the high volume of people coming in, and various issues resulting in a foul stench.

the project manager in charge of restoring hilton's grandeur acknowledged that though the extensive work had made significant improvements, there was still work to be done.

"the old paris hilton's star had faded and people were being driven away from her in droves by the sight and smell of her," said jacques baudrillard. "paris hilton is far from complete. so far we have only tackled her exterior and internal problematic areas. the next phase will be to add some sophistication and class to the old girl." good luck with that.

read more here: http://www.avantnews.com/modules/news/article.php?storyid=251

Old friends, good times, and an evil gnome

having been shit-canned by my employer of 2 years on monday, it was a welcome distraction when an old friend rolled into town on his way to the west coast. hollywood dropped by for the evening on his way to LA to fulfill his destiny: being rich eisen's bitch at NFL network.

it's been well over 2 years since we last saw each other (dates are fuzzy, but i think i was last in michigan about 2 years ago), and it was great to see a face from my past. he cruised in to 5280 around dinner time, took a much needed shower and we headed out to grub. he introduced me to his travel companion (no, not the talking GPS lady, though she sounded kinda hot), evil bob, who is a gnome dressed as david lee roth. he explained to me (as seen on the jet blach jabber) that evil bob is lawn gnome that he'd picked up a while back, brought on the trip with him to take pictures in random places, and someone whom he'd ultimately leave on his own somewhere between denver and LA to find his own journey.

as host, i took hollywood and bob on a mini tour of the city, as neither had been here before. i thought it fitting to go over to invesco at mile high, home of the broncos, for bob's cameo in denver. we hit a few other sites in the city and then crashed out for the nite.

the journey was to continue the next morning. we hit up starbucks for some breakfast before h-wood hit the road. we had some final moments of catching up, including conversation about who's doing what, with whom and where. it occurred to me that neither of us had really kept up with the entire circle of friends we had in college, but still managed to keep tabs on those really close to us. for the first time since i left SE michigan and all my friends, i realized one of the great truisms about life: when one moves on to bigger and better things, in the back of his mind, the world stands still for everyone he's left behind.

as i've been bouncing around from michigan to chicago to denver and who knows where next, i never gave a second thought that those i left behind had been living in the real world and developing their own lives as well. for some odd reason, i still picture them all hanging around our little ghetto college town, drinking at the same old establishments, and working shitty jobs just to make ends meet till the next best thing comes along.

i'm amazed that it's been 4 years since i left school, and more taken aback by the number of my old friends and acquaintances have moved out and on as well. most are married, many have moved to more impressive locales (i.e. chicago, new york, california, et al),and have incredibly successful and fulfilling careers. and some will never outgrow the college days. but who really wants to?

hollywood left to hit the highway, while i headed home from starbucks to piece together today's random act. the 5 minute drive provided ample time for me to reflect on all the memories that come with seeing an old friend. the 4 years since i left EMU have gone nearly as quickly as the 4.5 i spent there. and this is one of the few times when i really miss the old days and all of my friends.

i'm happy for shaun to have this opportunity and am actually a bit jealous of his cross-country trek. and though i obviously can't go back in time to re-live the "greatest years of your life" (seriously, did you ever think your parents would be right about anything, let alone which part of your life you'd enjoy most?), i can hold on to the memories that made those times so great while still living my life in the present. it helps to have an evil gnome to show you how.

So sue me

i'm a little late in reporting the week's most ridiculous item. as i'm sure you've undoubtedly already heard, this is the epitome of the frivolous lawsuit. some guy in oregon is suing both michael jordan and nike founder, phil knight, for a total of $832 million. more on the amount in a minute.

so, this guy, this allen heckerd, says he's tired of being mistaken for a basketball legend and feels he needs to be compensated, presumably, for the "mental anguish" it must cause him to be misidentified. he's also suing knight, i suppose, for continuing the jordan legacy thru his nike brand and, thus, perpetuating the hurt. so, let's list the similarities between his airness and his airheadness to really understand hecker's pain: bald, black, over 6' tall and wears and earring in the left ear. there you have it folks, a perfect clone of the greatest basketball player in history.

of course, it's not all bad. heckerd claims to be mistaken for jordan when he's ballin' at the gym, as he apparently has the game equal to the jumpman. despite the adulation and admiration of his basketball prowess, heckerd is pursuing his lawsuit to the tune of $832 mill. now, if i were to sue someone for a reason this assinine, i suppose it's natural to come up with a ludicrous number. but arriving at this ridiculous amount should at least be thought out, logical, and designed to actually make me look like a victim, not a complete dope. heckerd arrived at his figure in a manner that defies each of those parameters. his reason? "Well, you figure with my age and you multiply that times seven and then I turn around and I figure that's what it all boils down to." right.

i could launch into a diatribe about frivolous lawsuits and the litigation-hungry society we've become, but i have a friend that looks and sounds remarkably like dave chappelle. he's 27, times 7, carry the one...we'll be suing for $189 million. anyone know a good lawyer?

http://msn.foxsports.com/nba/story/5766288?FSO1&ATT=HMA

Kenny boy, Danny boy

enron chief mastermind, kenneth lay, took the easy way out and avoided serving his life sentence in prison by having a heart attack and dying (christ, i survived mine--and i'm only a thousandaire). this medical maladity was a bit convenient, i feel, but may as well be the justice "kenny boy's" victims craved. the man bankrupted thousands, even millions, of people with his elaborate scheme of corporate greed. now he is dead. somewhere, dubya is crying like a little girl that scraped her knee after falling while playing hopscotch.

to his passing, i've composed the following ode, dedicated to the villain that was kenny boy. he'll be sorely missed (by the other criminal cronies).

(adapted from the irish song "danny boy.")

Oh kenny boy, the prison bars were calling
From cell to cell, and all around the outside
the crime's been done, and all your followers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.

But come ye back when the bulls set the tempo
Or when the dow's up and awash with dough
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh kenny boy, oh kenny boy, I hate your wretched soul

And if you come, when all the pitters are a-buying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and take a dime from me.

And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will dark and haunting be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you 've too stolen from me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me. 

rest in eternal damnation, you son of a bitch.