Or is it Winklevii? I’ve been scrounging around to try to figure out who first coined the term for Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss; I first heard it in “The Social Network,” and it’s certainly something Aaron Sorkin would write, but you can never be sure. Maybe it was the Zuck himself. At any rate, I’ve been deeply amused by their recent publicity blitz, and their desperate attempts to cast themselves as underdogs, and so I wrote this.
As I was complaining once again about the “Twilight” saga the other day, a pop-culture-savvy friend suggested I read Suzanne Collins’ “The Hunger Games” trilogy. So when I ran across the first installment in a store, I picked it up. Now I can’t put it down. It’s a brilliant, impeccably-paced book about a dystopian nation that rose from the ruins of North America, and it’s also a biting commentary on our culture of reality TV. (In essence it imagines what would happen if “American Idol” were a death match instead of a singing competition.)
When I like something this much, I tend to get obsessed, which is why I’ve also been Googling reviews and Collins herself. One thing I learned: She’s in her late 40s. It always makes me happy when someone who’s been slogging away finds hard-won, mid-career success. Even more intriguing: She used to write for “Little Bear,” one of the preschool shows that’s on Jesse and Ava’s frequent-viewing list. At first, it seemed incongruous. How could someone so steeped in the gentle preschool world create something so gut-wrenchingly dark? But when I think about it, “Little Bear” isn’t as cloyingly sweet as some of its competition. Out of the corner of my eye, I’ve seen goblins and funerals for dolls and bears who briefly take the shape of monsters. I’m going to have to watch more closely.
I miss blogging about TV. I miss blogging about TV more than I miss watching too much TV. And tonight’s “Mad Men” season finale made me want to blog. No, Don! No! Do not repeat history! Do not marry your secretary! Do not disappoint Peggy! Do not dump Faye! Do not turn into every other unimaginative ’60s office man!
Or maybe…do. Maybe Don proposing to Megan was the kick in the pants everybody needed. Bobby, Sally and Gene finally get a positive maternal figure. Betty finally gets real comeuppance for her cruel treatment of Carla. Peggy and Joan finally (finally!!!) get a reason to bond. Megan seems…nice enough. And savvy enough to have played Don like a violin with a little no-strings-attached office seduction that paves the way for a California tryst. And maybe Don saw Anna’s gift of a ring as a sign that she wanted him to restart his life. Maybe he really thought the planets had aligned.
But poor, poor Faye…punished for being ahead of her time, for making her way in the working world, for being bad with kids. If she had been good with kids, it might have been her in California.
And poor Peggy, getting upstaged by Don again, and knowing exactly, precisely, what’s going on.
And probably, poor Megan, who — as the “Groundhog Day” reference in the end suggests — will soon be the trophy wife who’s waiting at home with the kids while Don pursues yet another new thing. (“I Got You Babe,” playing in the morning, as history repeats itself? That couldn’t have been an accident.)
And poor me, who will have to wait many months until another new episode. Sigh.
How do you explain parody to a six-year-old? The other evening, with Ava and Jesse in the room, we turned on our DVR’ed episode of “Saturday Night Live,” prepared to fast-forward through the blue parts. When we saw this spot-on parody of Miley Cyrus, we laughed uncontrollably. But Ava wasn’t amused. She loves Miley Cyrus – I just bought her a Hannah Montana mask for Halloween, after she resisted my efforts to steer her toward the kitty cat ears and tail — and she did not enjoy seeing her heroine besmirched. “You’re not supposed to tease,” she said.
On the positive side, this means she has internalized our messages about why she shouldn’t act like the kids on “iCarly.” Still, I’m not sure she fully understood when we explained that Miley herself might not have minded this. And I’m a wee bit worried that she now thinks Mommy and Daddy are meanies. Poor Miley!
It was one thing when Lauren Conrad wrote a novel. But Snooki? Really?
Sigh. I can either be defeated or opportunistic, I suppose. So, Dear Publishing Industry: I officially submit my application to be JWoww’s ghostwriter.
Really? Kids today are worse than kids were yesterday? Tell that to my grandparents. Seriously- I understand how Velcro sneakers have impacted our children’s shoe-tying skills, though they’ve also probably decreased by tenfold the two-year-old tantrum quotient. But the notion that kids who can figure out how to manipulate a mouse and work the DVR by age 3 are somehow deficient in life skills seems a little, um, crotchety. Your kid can’t use a can-opener? Lock him in the bathroom with a can of olives for ten minutes. He’ll figure it out.
Ava (while getting into her pajamas): Bajina, bajina, bajina.
Me: It’s “va-gina.”
Ava: No, “ba-gina.”
Me: No, “va-gina.”
Ava: “Vagina”? That’s a funny name for “wee-wee.”
A couple of weeks ago, flipping through the Boston Globe business section, I came across an item about a $200 clip-on baby monitor that shook if your infant didn’t move for 15 seconds. Wow, I thought. A guarantee that your child won’t sleep through the night. And another unnecessary baby item to join the video monitors (because clearly you want to watch the kid crying, too) and the rubber ducks that light up with the word “HOT” on the bottom if your bathwater is too warm. And then I thought about Jesse’s obsession with lint, and how much more he likes trash than most of his toys. And presto, I had a column idea.
I spent this evening making a round of calls for rememberances of Walter Cronkite. Talked to a former ABC reporter who encountered him in an elevator in Israel, and said that Cronkite scared the bejeezus out of him by saying he was there “in pursuit of the biggest story of the century.” (He was just kidding.) Talked to a filmmaker whose PBS documentary was narrated by Cronkite a few years ago, and said the veteran newsman was a flawless script reader and a stickler for grammar.
All I could think of was the hour I spent today watching “The Wanted,” the new NBC News series that presents a news story in they style of a Jerry Bruckheimer show — complete with extraneous glamour shots and practiced dialogue. Cronkite, I’m sure, would have hated it. I hope his legacy lives on.
I’ve written a lot about Sarah Palin over the past year, because I find her fascinating — as a series of TV events, a political figure, a mother. So now, as she enters the news once again, I’m wondering: Is it fair, to her and to all working women, to wonder if some part of her decision to step down has to do with the many demands of her family life, and to cheer that decision if it’s true?