When You Start Believing Your Own Press...

Those of you who know me, know that, for a long time, I was a huge fan of Shepard Smith.

I say "was" because, I simply can no longer watch this man.

I noticed it a while back...around the time he signed his big cushy contract. He'd started changing a little before, in fact. Maybe bolstered by the idea that networks were perhaps interested in him? Whatever the case, I started to see a change in him early on. He'd already ticked me off with his continually referring to himself as "a New Yorker" while bellowing how he was a proud Mississippian. No, you are one or the other. You are not both. At least not in THIS city, bucko.

I can't even put into words what it was. Perhaps an attitude, an arrogance.

It seemed that, suddenly, Shepard Smith thought that HE was more important than the story.

Before that, I would tape both his 3pm and his 7pm broadcasts, and watch with interest each night. Shepard was bright, funny and interesting. He did what he said he would do: read the news without bias. No editorializing there!

This was why I liked Shepard Smith.

But as soon as I saw the change in him, I knew it. It was the same change I'd seen years earlier, when MSNBC anchor, and my favorite newsman at the time, Brian Williams, was tapped to replace Tom Brokaw. There was a sudden air of arrogance, a conveyance that he was better than I was.

The same change that I sadly saw in Shepard Smith.

It started out small...Shepard editorializing this small story or that. Jumping in over other reporters, yelling to get his voice heard first. The way he'd talk over the car chases he is so fond of showing.

But then it started to escalate. Shepard began to editorialize and give his opinions on THE NEWS.

How can you sit there, and say you deliver the NEWS, fair and balanced, when you are interjecting your opinions, be it a sarcastic snicker, or a scoffing laugh.

It got so that I would turn him off midway thru the broadcast.

And it really shone thru during the elections.

I realized that Shepard Smith was no longer a NEWS man and had moved on to news ANALYST when, during the election he made a statement about how the South was going to show how far it had come by electing a black man. THAT, Mr. Smith, is YOUR opinion, not a news fact.

It got particularly bad during the election, when Shepard continually allowed his partisanship to show. We got it, Shep. You were for Obama. Your point was driven home.

After the election, he actually stated that he saw absolutely no media bias during the election.

Huh?

I'm guessing he never picked up a copy of the New York Times during those months, of flipped on any of the major networks newscasts or snuck a peek at his cable counterparts. I guess that, during this past election cycle, Shepard Smith lived in a bubble.

I knew it was completely over for me where Shepard was concerned when I heard him mocking Glenn Beck. Now, I don't watch Glenn. I'm sure he's a nice enough fellow, and from what I've seen of him, he has said some things I can agree with~and plenty I can't, but that is neither here or there. It's the idea that he was openly mocking the man, in front of him, right on television. That's just cruel.

Now comes word of Shepard dropping yet another expletive live on the air, this time on the Strategy Room, FNC's internet based show. Shepard, opposed to the 'torture' that is waterboarding, had a melt down. Too bad Glenn Beck wasn't there to mock him...odds are good old Shep wouldn't like it very much once the shoe was on the other foot.

(And this brings me to one other point...waterboarding. By the definition of torture in the Geneva Convention, waterboarding is NOT torture. I think that everyone screaming that it IS torture (and citing the Geneva Convention while doing so), including that dim bulb in the chandelier masquerading as our Commander in Chief, fails to realize this. Or perhaps our new clueless administration doesn't want them to realize it....kind of like the old fable about the Emperor's New Clothes...once they opened their eyes and actually saw what was in front of them, they failed to believe. I think that is a huge fear of this administration and the reason our new President has been campaigning for reelection for the last 100 days. No one out there screaming that waterboarding is torture has ever been thru waterboarding. They are calling it torture because they are being told that it IS torture, so they blindly believe and follow...independent thought is a dangerous thing to a naked emperor...but I digress...)

Back to the post at hand...

When you are so fond of saying that "this is the news, fair and balanced" and want to brag about how you DELIVER THE NEWS, then perhaps you should DELIVER THE NEWS, not your opinions. Sadly, you'll no longer get THE NEWS from Shepard Smith. Sad, really. He was the last evening broadcast I could get actual NEWS on. Now, I'll have to try to catch Trace Gallagher for the news.

I'll end my rant here, and also note here that I reserve the right to edit or delete any posts that are made in this blog.

Missed a Month?!

How'd I do that?? Not post for a month?

Well, probably because I've been rather preoccupied by other things in real life, and as such, haven't had much to say.

So, since I'm sure so many of you have been chomping at the bit for more of my Random Musings, I'll toss you a bone....


~ Is it just me, or does LOST just get better and better??

~ Why is it the people who really have no good reason to be full of themselves usually are the ones who ARE full of themselves?

~ Trampy girls...why do they always seem to get whatever they want?

~ New show Castle...I want to like it...but I don't.

~ Just Born brand jelly beans are yummy and addictive!!

~ I actually enjoyed last night's episode of Dirty Jobs...sled dogging in Alaska done especially for Discovery Channel's Alaska Week. TV's Mike Rowe wasn't nearly as annoying as he's been lately!

~ Rick Reichmuth...he makes me smile. Rick Reichmuth in a fancy black sports car makes me smile even more :D

~ the hurrieder I go, the behinder I get

~ Does anyone know ANYONE who enjoys going to the grocery store?

~ I really miss Seinfeld.

~ I'm still trying to figure out exactly what it was that made me find Shepard Smith attractive.

~ Deadliest Catch returns tomorrow! Can you say EXCITING?!!!

~ My new iPod Touch is awesome!

~ Captain Jonathan Hillstrand...'nuff said

Your Tax Dollars In Action!

As many bloggers do, I have a little site counter attached to this blog, where I can see where my hits are coming from. It's so interesting to see hits from Europe reading my post about the private Eric Clapton concert I attended (many thanks to the Eric Clapton Portal for posting the link!) and to see how many people are googling TV's Mike Rowe and his latest venture, mikeroweWorks.

Sometimes, I get a little surprise...like, tonight.

Many times, the name of the company that the hit is coming from shows up on the counter. I've seen some large corporations, colleges and universities, among others. I've even had hits from government offices.

But, imagine my surprise tonight when I took a hit from none other than Fannie Mae! That's right! The embattled mortgage company that we, as taxpayers, have to bail out. It's good to see my tax dollars in action, as someone who's being paid with my hard earned money is sitting there, goofing off, googling about who designed a certain website. It's good to see that, even though I had to take a 10% pay reduction at my job because of the real estate crisis (created, in part, thanks to Fannie Mae and the sub-prime mortgage fiasco) that someone gainfully employed at Fannie saw fit to mess around on the internet while probably still earning the same salary they earned prior to this financial meltdown.

So, if I may be so bold, I would like to ask the Federal Government for some of my tax dollars back. Specifically, I'd like the money that was paid to this person who saw fit to waste the hard earned and dwindling cash that I am paying them in order to ensure that they retain a job and our country's economy doesn't implode on itself under the weight of bad loans made by their employer.

Maybe it's time we started demanding accountability for our money from these institutions if we are going to be spending our hard earned money to save them. Something to think about....

S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT!!

Once upon a time, I was a young pre-teen girl, reading Tiger Beat and 16 Magazine...for the pics of my faves, you know ;)

Things were very different back then. The articles in these publications were sugar coated pabulum designed more to sell record albums and drive up TV show ratings rather than give you the real poop on those faves who's pics lined your bedroom walls. Not that we knew otherwise. We were more than happy to think our teen idols were as squeeky clean as we were!

Anyway, like most of the rest of the girls my age at that time, I was sort of outgrowing Donny & Marie (does anyone ever really outgrow Donny Osmond? Seriously...the man's a grandfather and I'd STILL do him in a heartbeat!) and looking for more 'grown up' music. I found that sound in the voice of Les McKeown, lead singer for The Bay City Rollers. No, they weren't from Bay City, Michigan. These five lads were from Edinburgh, Scottland, and they had the tartan to prove it! The lineup consisted of the afore mentioned Les, lead singer and the driving force in heartthrob, guitarists Woody Wood, Eric Faulkner, bassist Alan Longmuir and his drum playing blond brother with the little Dutch Boy hair cut, Derek. Alan later left the band (which he and Derek had actually founded as The Saxons) and was replaced by Ian Mitchell...but more on him later.

Now, you're going to think I'm weird (unless you already thought I was, and, in that case, this does not strike you as odd at all) but I just went up into the top of my closet shelf where all that 'stuff' lives. You know that 'stuff'...the stuff you just can't bring yourself to part with. The prom corsage, the gift a sweet boy you had a secret crush on gave you at your 12th birthday party, a postcard from a long forgotten friend...that 'stuff'. I have my grandmother's old jewelry box up there with some of this 'stuff' in it. There's a little adjustable ring with a distelfink on it, a NYC subway token, a pendant with my name twisted in silver wire that I got at a long gone fair, beaded earrings from the 1980's, a high school yearbook photo of me, and some ticket stubs from NY Ranger hockey games at Madison Square Garden.

There is another ticket stub in there. It's hot pink and it says SECTION 204 ROW B SEAT 12. It's dated May 9, 1977 and it's face value is a whopping $8.00. It was from my very first concert...The Bay City Rollers.

Yes, I had the Rollermania bad, though not as bad as some of those at that show. There were girls with their hair cut like Woody and Eric, wearing the same style ankle high pants with tartan around the cuffs, wearing tartan scarves around their necks. Before the Rollers, I'd always called it 'plaid'. My school uniform as plaid. But the Rollers wore TARTAN!

I went to the show with my cousins Diane, Maria and Joanne. Joanne had graduated high school and was working at the time. She waited in line on her lunch hour at the box office for the tickets. By the time she got up to the window, all that were left were singles. She did, however, manage to get two fairly good seats together. My mother was somehow elected as 'the parent' to bring us. She took the worst seat. Maria was OVER THERE, and Joanne was WAY OVER THERE. Diane and I had two choice seats on the aisle. We sat there, like two little ladies, in our jeans, sneakers and cute girl tshirts, like two little ladies, while the girl with the Eric Faulkner haircut sitting next to us explained how we'd need to sit back when the music started so she could rush the stage. This was our first concert. We thought it was going to be like a play. Everyone sits nicely and enjoys.

Wow, were WE idiots!

If I recall correctly, the 'opening act' was a clown...yes...a clown. We really didn't pay attention, since we were in awe of the Faulkner~headed girl. Her mother actually let her cut her hair that way? And where did she get pants LIKE THE ROLLERS WORE?! We looked at our Toughskins and Keds with embarrassment. We were failures as fans.

Then, the lights dimmed and the music started! IT WAS TIME FOR THE BAY CITY ROLLERS!

As if on cue, the Eric Faulkner girl charged the stage~along with just about every other girl in the audience. Diane and I looked at each other, embraced and screamed as only 12 year old girls can. It was almost as ear piercing as the music!

Suddenly, there was my mother in front of us. With a mighty index finger in our faces she said "I'll be in the lobby. DON'T MOVE" And she was gone. In an attempt to see better, we sat our butts on the top of our chairs, ensuring a much better view, and continued to scream.

We screamed for an hour.

And when it was over, we went home, dazed, deaf and hoarse.

So, tonight, I perused YouTube, and thru the magic of the internet, I got to experience Rollermania once again...


Ah...Dedication with Ian Mitchell on lead vocal. Here's how it went: Ian replaced Alan in the original line up, and Diane and I fell in love immediately. Looking back, I can't help but wonder why. Then again, we were kids, and so was he. Ian was all of 17 at the time he sang this song. Anyway, we were soooo excited to be seeing OUR IAN at the concert. In the weeks leading up to the show, we would look at the glossy pictures of the Rollers in Tiger Beat and 16 and sigh, knowing soon enough, we'd be in the same room as our sweet Ian. Then we read it: BREAKING NEWS IN 16 MAGAZINE! IAN IS OUT OF BCR!! Our pre~teen hearts broke into a thousand pieces! No Ian?! Who would sing Dedication?! There were only 4 Rollers at our show...but who even remembers the music? :D

It Ought To Be A Law...

What with our new president signing nonsense into law, I figured he could sign another frivolous one into law as well, as long has he's in a singing mood:

Let it be known throughout the land that Rick Reichmuth, meteorologist for FoxNews, must never, ever cover up by wearing a suit while giving the forecast. Instead, he must always wear these jeans and a snug polo shirt:



Then we can all sing the "I'm Just a Bill" song from the old Schoolhouse Rock series :D

As I've said before, this is what's sexy, and right now, I need all the sexy I can get in my life.

Sorry for scamming the pic from our facebook, Rick...please consider it a birthday gift from you to moi * bats eyelashes provocatively at The Reichmuth *

The Lesson of Icarus

Perhaps, dear Constant Reader, you remember the Greek myth of Icarus from a long ago school lesson. Perhaps not.

In any event, I am going to use my first entry of the new year to demonstrate to you why it is so important that we never forget history, as we become doomed to repeat it.

Icarus was the son of a gifted craftsman named Daedalus. Daedalus had created a labyrinth for King Minos where the Minotaur was to be imprisoned. Daedalus and his son Icarus were exiled to the island of Crete after the King discovered that Daedalus had helped the Minotaur to escape. In an effort to escape their exile, Daedalus fashioned a pair of wings on which he and Icarus were to fly away on out of wax and feathers. But, the father warned his son, that if he flew too low, moisture would weigh down the wings, and if he flew too high, the sun would surely scorch them. Travel between the two extremes, he cautioned.

Of course, you know how this ended. Tragically, as most Greek stories do, with the boy so delighted in his freedom of flight that he soared ever so high, allowing the heat from the sun to melt his waxen wings and sending the boy crashing to his death.

The lesson gleaned fro this fable is to remember not to get too close to the sun, as you may very well be burned.

How true this lesson is, even today.

Only today's entry is about celebrity and how what we see isn't always reality. Celebrity, for what it is worth, is little more than smoke and mirrors, with heavy editing involved so we see only what our celebrity of choice wishes us to see. It's nothing new. It's gone on as long as man has existed. But it is only when we get too close that we begin to see the cracks in the facade, where the truth has a tendency to ooze out a bit, if you pay attention closely.

Obviously, I did not pay enough attention in class when we were reviewing this myth. Perhaps, if I had, I would have avoided any involvement with the message boards of TV's Mike Rowe. Perhaps, if I had, I wouldn't have been so disappointed in what I've come to realized of late, and that is that the internet version of Mike is perhaps the real version of Mike, and that maybe the TV version of Mike is really only culled together by directors and editors. Charm and charisma can only hide so much, I'm afraid. Eventually, you start to see things and become aware of the truth.

Likewise, it appears that only a certain kind of "fan" is acceptable on the afore mentioned message boards. Only a certain kind of pandering and gushing warranting any sort of tip of the hat from the object of their desire. All others are left to swing in the wind at the mercy of the hungry vipers who fancy themselves to be the chosen ones. Some are ignored completely, apparently so offensive in their daring to be seen and heard that they are never to be spoken to, only about in thinly veiled ways. Others are berated and belittled publicly in order to pay for their grand sin of attempting to talk to TV's Mike Rowe. The remaining few who maybe have working brains and are able to think for themselves are left to fight for their rights to keep their opinions, as while the chosen are entitled to have them, those with brains clearly are not.

Sad, really, as this is a man who has, within the last 6 months, embarked on a crusade of sorts to highlight the need our country has for skilled laborers. Of course, you won't find any evidence of this on the website that bears his name and was apparently born for that express intention, as it has devolved and has become little more than a place for the faithful to vie for attention, agreeing with everything Rowe and a few "key" disciples say. They then snipe at other interlopers who dare attempt to feel a little bit of the sunshine that is Mike Rowe on their faces, regardless of the validity or importance of the post in question. The fact that the fearless leader is self admittedly at a loss for what his project even is holds no concerns, as to question would surely put one on the fast track to being viewed in an unfavorable light. Instead, the sniping at key offenders, the gushing at chosen postings, the orgasmic postings around anything from The Master instead continues.

So, I heave a heavy sigh, dear Constant Reader, for as they say, the best of intentions do go awry. I flew too close to the sun, it seems, and as the wax melted, I saw it for what it really was.

Merry Christmas Eve Eve...

So, here it is...Christmas Eve eve...also known as Festivus in certain circles.

So, in keeping with the spirit of Festivus, let us all gather around the aluminum pole and air our grievances...

KennyG is on my XM Radio, playing a soulfully painful rendition of my favorite Christmas song, Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. It's my favorite song, because it's tinged with sadness...and yet it's so hopeful. Kind of like how I view the holiday. It's long been documented that I'm not much of a Christmas person. I try to avoid whatever I can. I don't go to parties. I don't participate in "Secret Santa's". I decorate my house as much as I can, hoping against hope that merry decor will somehow fill me with the Christmas spirit and un-scrooge me. No such luck. Humbug! Humbug I say!

I'm grinchier than the Grinch himself. I bake and I cook. I shop and I wrap...all with a grimace and a scowl. I am not merry or bright. I'm more sour than bad eggnog. I find no joy in this time of year.

Yet, somehow, I always think "Well, maybe I'll feel differently next year".

But, I never do.

This year is last years next year. And I'm even humbuggier than I was last year.

I had a small sparkle of hope tonight...hope that perhaps next year will be better...but, why do that to myself? I ought to know by now that next year is never going to be better than this year. It only gets worse. I get older, more dour, sadder and lonlier. I sit and feel sorry for myself, that I have less of a life than I want. I have no one to kiss under the mistltoe. That I only want one simple little thing for Christmas that I never get.

Tonight, I found myself yelling at my TV Box. Seems the single and childless Shepard Smith is off for the holidays. Working in his place? The very married with children Trace Gallagher. That's right. TGallie has to work while Shepard is off relaxing. I remember back in the day, on Christmas Eve, Kathy Levin of QVC, who was Jewish, always took the last shift of the night, so that hosts who celebrated Christmas could spend Christmas Eve home with their families. The network would go off the air for the holiday when she signed off (generally with her dog) and not come back on until after Christmas. I guess that sort of spirit just doesn't exist anymore. TGallie has to work, while Mrs. Gallie and the two little Gallies celebrate without him. Humbug, Shepard Smith. May you be visited by 3 spirits to learn the true meaning of Christmas. Maybe I need to be visited by them as well...

But next year will be better...but only if I skip Christmas and go to DisneyWorld...

/end grievances

So, to you, dear Constant Reader, I bid a Happy Festivus...the holiday for 'the rest of us'...