I don't read my blog either

Gone Geekin'

2010-03-20T20:27:00.000-07:00

Though I love to write, it took me a long time to warm to the idea of blogging. I'm no new media hater, but my training as a newspaper journalist made me hesitant to embrace a semi-anonymous, proudly self-focused medium. More than anything, I was terrified that I'd be bad at it or that I'd have nothing interesting/amusing to say. I'm glad I didn't let that stop me from starting this blog in 2008.

I Don't Read My Blog Either has been creatively satisfying and, at times, incredibly therapeutic. It also led to some real-life socializing with very cool people. Best of all, I discovered that I really enjoy writing about comic books and my experiences as an atypical geek. So does my friend V., and our shared fangirl enthusiasm led us to create Girls Gone Geek a few months ago. We're enjoying the hell out of it, but since I also have a full-time job and a family, something had to give. Unfortunately, this blog began to suffer from infrequent posting, then outright neglect. I've been in denial, but now seemed as good a time as any to admit that, for now, IDRMBE is retiring. I wish I were one of those people who could maintain five blogs, a regular podcast and a healthy work-life balance on fewer than six hours of sleep a night — but I'm not. Besides, I figure it's only a matter of time before my children can barely stand to be in the same room with me and their dad, so I ought to milk that whole "being present" thing while they still think we're kinda cool.

To everyone who stopped by and/or commented, I offer my sincere thanks. There's a whole lot of everything floating around, so I'm honored that you found my little corner of the Web worthy of your time. If you have even a passing interest in comic books, I hope you'll drop by Girls Gone Geek and say hi or visit our Facebook page.

Gotta run, as it's already past my bedtime. I really wasn't kidding about that sleep thing!

See you on the Interwebs,
EDP

Passing On 'Precious'

2009-11-19T17:27:00.000-08:00

I'm not going to see "Precious."

Back in the '90s, I knew several people who had read (or attempted to read) "Push," the novel "Precious" is based on. To be fair, I'm one of those people who can't stomach stories, real or imagined, about child abuse. Reviews and word of mouth convinced me that I was the wrong audience for a story about a morbidly obese girl who is repeatedly raped by her father, impregnated with his children, and subjected to depraved acts at her mother's hand. It's not that I didn't know those things happened (I was a newspaper reporter, after all), but I had zero desire to be immersed in that world in my down time.

The Washington Post's Courtland Milloy said it better than I can, but I just don't see the value in watching this hellish story play out on the big screen. I'm all for tackling hard truths through art, but I have a hard time believing that "Precious" will do anything to make a difference in the lives of real-life abuse victims. Plus, there's something deeply grating about the idea of a privileged film festival audience seeing this movie and gasping, "How powerful! I had no idea this world of ghetto tragedy existed!"

There's a valid argument that "Precious" represents a thoughtful alternative to movies about African-American men dressed in drag and adaptations of ham-fisted stage plays. (Irony! Tyler Perry is one of the big names promoting "Precious.") But are those my only choices if I want to see a movie with more than two black people in it?

Sorry, Oprah. I can't go down this road with you.

The Goat's Mustache is Cameron Diaz

2009-11-03T18:24:00.000-08:00

I really want to meet the person responsible for casting "Community," because he or she is a genius. It's no surprise that Joel McHale and Chevy Chase are funny, but Danny Pudi is a real find as the intense, unfiltered Abed, who appears to have Aspergers. As sketchy as that sounds, there's nothing pitiful or mean about the way Abed's quirks play out on "Community" — especially since most of the characters are odd ducks. I definitely see shades of my son J. in Abed, and it's great to see that represented in a genuinely funny way.

For the record, J. gets a kick out of Abed's shenanigans, and the above clip is one of our favorites. Major props to my friend V. for turning me on to this show.

Michelle and Me!

2009-11-01T08:28:00.000-08:00

Well, this is pretty doggone cool. The folks behind Mrs. O, the lovely blog devoted to Michelle Obama's style, have written a book, "Mrs. O: The Face of Fashion Democracy" — and yours truly is quoted in it! I've written hundreds of articles, editorials and essays over the years, but this may excite my mom more than anything I've ever done.

A while back, Mrs. O readers were invited to offer their thoughts on what makes the first lady a style icon. I wish I could remember exactly what I wrote, but it was something about how she helped make fashion seem more accessible. I understand the fantasy aspect of clothing design, but a lot of the stuff coming down the runway has nothing to do with the average American woman's needs. OK, Michelle Obama isn't exactly average, but her clothes are both stylish and grounded in reality. She has her pick of designers, but she also wears clothes from J. Crew, Target and White House/Black Market.

This is probably as close as I'll ever get to Michelle Obama (or Michael Kors, included in a full Q&A), but I'm stoked. Thanks, authors!

Stay Awesome, "Glee"

2009-10-23T10:21:00.000-07:00

I love "Glee" so much that I'm already worried about the moment, perhaps inevitable, when it starts to make me crazy. I saw it happen to my friends who got sucked in to "Lost" and "Heroes," and the depth of their disappointment when those shows went off the rails ... well, it was troubling.

So far, the musical bits have been fabulous and the casting is spot on. I don't know how much Fox is paying Jane Lynch to portray cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester, but it's probably not enough. The woman is a master of the withering one-liner ("I’ve always thought the desire to procreate showed deep, personal weakness."), and her character is terrifying. Then there is Kurt, glorious Kurt, who cracks me up with the mere arch of an eyebrow. I thought the episode where he came out to his flannel-wearing dad was expertly handled. After Kurt stammered that he was gay, his dad shrugged and said, "I know." That he wasn't thrilled about it but still openly loved his kid seemed realistic — and it was touching.

In fact, that particular episode illustrated what makes "Glee" work so well: its successful combination of absurdity (the football team dancing to "Single Ladies") and poignancy (quarterback Finn's terror of being stuck in his hometown forever because of his girlfriend's pregnancy). And don't even get me started on how effing fabulous Kristin Chenowith was a few weeks ago as a drunken, former glee club star. The show's high goofball factor helps it get away with stereotypes that would otherwise be annoying.

But I'm not completely blinded by devotion. No show is perfect, but sometimes I worry that the things I don't like about "Glee" will start to overwhelm the rest. Like the constant focus on Rachel and Finn's mutual infatuation. I really like Rachel's character, particularly her awareness that her ruthless ambition alienates people. Finn's hunky/dim schtick is adorable. But what initially hooked me was the motley crew of glee club members, and the assumption that they'd all get a chance to shine. I want to know more about Tina, the Asian girl who auditioned with a ridiculously aggressive rendition of "I Kissed a Girl." But she's barely spoken since the pilot. Will Mercedes, the club's budding Aretha, be given more to do than make sassy remarks about her friends' shenanigans? I love the fact that Artie's wheelchair is regularly worked into song-and-dance routines. And the boy is funny. What's his story?

I realize the show hasn't been on that long, and maybe the "Glee" writers are getting to all that. For all I know, Artie and Tina may become an item. But I've been watching television too long to expect the unexpected, even from a really good show. Now that the show has caught on and grabbed the attention of people like Madonna, I fear a parade of Rihanna-esque cameos and repetition of themes that are already starting to wear out their welcome.

Here's hoping I'm wrong. For now, I'm unavailable Wednesday nights from 9 to 10.

A Familiar Story, Beautifully Told

2009-10-02T18:33:00.001-07:00

Does Geoff Johns sleep? From where I'm sitting, it looks like he's writing roughly 70 percent of the books DC is putting out right now, including event stories like "Blackest Night." He's like the Joyce Carol Oates of comic book writers.

Johns' work rarely disappoints, but I approached his latest project, "Superman: Secret Origin," with trepidation. The Man of Steel's backstory has been told many times in almost every medium, and it was hard to believe that there was anything new to say. But while I'm not a rabid Superman fan, I am a sucker for how-it-all-began tales and Gary Frank's artwork. I'm glad I put my skepticism aside, because "Secret Origin" No. 1 is winning in its simplicity and obvious affection for all the origin tales that preceded it.

In Johns' version, Clark Kent is a teenager who is freaked out by his burgeoning powers. Like all adolescents, he's stuck in a changing, unpredictable body. The difference is that when he kisses his childhood sweetheart, Lana, the embarrassing, involuntary reaction is scorching heat vision. Ma and Pa Kent realize they can't put off The Talk any longer, and as a parent, I found myself wondering how I'd break the news to my kid that he dropped out of the sky in a rocket ship. Their big reveal goes badly, especially after unexpected holographs of Clark's — uh, Kal-El's — Kryptonian birth parents appear near the rocket they've hidden in the barn. Clark goes nuts with anger and confusion, and Pa Kent's loving reassurance ("You are my son.") is so touching that it made me a little teary.

The art in this book is gorgeous. Frank draws Clark exactly like a young Christopher Reeve, who is the gold standard for Superman. There's one panel where teen Lex Luthor's facial expression is so perfectly furious that I kept flipping back to study it. Even if you knew nothing about who Luthor eventually becomes, it would be chilling.

Rarely has my 9-year-old son so entranced by a comic book. As I watched him read "Secret Origin" for the second time, I was struck by how few of my comics I've been able to share with him. Let's face it; once you leave the kids' section, a great many comic books are filled with imagery inappropriate for children under 13. "Secret Origin" isn't a "kids" comic book, but it is accessible in the best possible way. He's antsy for No. 2, and so am I.

Video Of The Week

2009-09-29T06:13:00.001-07:00

For years, my friend C. and I have been mocking R&B love songs that offer literal, step-by-step previews of the night ahead. Besides being unintentionally hilarious, the songs are often bossy (Don't tell me what color dress to wear!) and ridiculous. All night long? No thanks. I've got an early conference call.

I have C. to thank for unearthing the satirical gem "Ooh girl!," which is the perfect answer to years of goofy sexual braggadoccio in song: "I apologize in advance. I can probably give you seven minutes if you don't move around too much."

R.I.P., Swagger

2009-09-22T12:37:00.001-07:00

I remember the precise moment that the word "crunk" jumped the shark. I was still a newspaper journalist, and a colleague was writing a story about a popular college event in town. One of the quotes in the article contained the word "crunk," and the editors decided that the term needed elaboration. It was a perfectly reasonable decision, but when the article ran the next day, I knew the word's days were numbered.

I think we can all agree that the death knell for "swagger" is its use as the name of an Old Spice product. Even LL Cool J as a pitchman can't make this work. Granted, swagger was a legitimate word long before it began peppering hip-hop songs and youth lingo. But in recent months, we've been treated to a Swaggapalooza courtesy of T.I. and Soulja Boy, who downsized it to "swag." (I love how putting words in quotation marks makes them extra unhip, like when the Curtis comic strip writer makes references to "rap" music.) It was great while it lasted, but once Madison Avenue gets its hands on something with a cool factor, the expiration date is just around the corner.

If I were a single man, I wouldn't want to get caught with this in my medicine cabinet, no matter how good it smells.

Death Blows

2009-09-20T14:54:00.000-07:00

Might as well put this out there: My dad died on Thursday. We were not close, and at this point, he'd been out of my life longer than he'd been in it. The last time I talked to him was about a year ago, and it didn't go well. Dad was as troubled as he was brilliant, which is to say very. He was good at talking; the listening, not so much.

Like most people who lose an estranged parent, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel. There is sadness, of course, but also long stretches of utter blankness and confusion. In a way, I was long done mourning his absence from my life, and I am (mostly) finished being mad about the chaos he caused when he was present. Frankly, it's probably easier to forgive miserable parenting once you have children. I'm not making excuses for him, but there are days where I'm acutely aware of how hard it is to show up and be present for another human being, day in, day out. It's exhausting. Life couldn't have been easy for a black man with a master's degree in South Georgia almost 40 years ago, and without going into too much detail, my father had internal struggles that I understand all too well.

But still. By the weekend, I was firing off bitter emails to by brother and sister about things I thought I was done with. My sister, in classic fashion, wrote back, "I see someone is rolling right through the stages of grief. You always were an overachiever." And just like that, I thought about the handful of good things that we did get from him, like a wicked sense of humor. His sarcasm used to get on my mother's nerves, and now she's stuck with three adult children who have raised it to an art form. Sorry, mom.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this except to say it's been a deep-thoughts kind of weekend — but I will not, under any circumstances, write a poem. Gotta draw the line somewhere.

Oh, Coldplay, You Hurt Me

2009-09-16T16:37:00.000-07:00

It's not always easy being a Coldplay fan. Sure, they've sold a gazillion records and have made some of the most gorgeous rock tunes of the last decade, but they're an easy target for hipsters who think they haven't been any good since "Yellow." One of my favorite music critics mocks them mercilessly. Plus, I have a lot of friends who love themselves some Radiohead, and you really don't want to get them started. (Example: My dear friend B. refers to Coldplay as "a photocopy of a photocopy of Radiohead.") And like a chump, I always take the bait and waste my breath defending Chris Martin & Co. as makers of artful yet accessible music, then launch into a diatribe about how there are far, far worse bands, and why don't people pick on them, goddammit.

Anyway, I was oh-so stoked when I got tickets for Coldplay's Viva La Vida tour stop in Tampa. Then somebody in the band got sick and the show was postponed. When friends started saying, "Dude, sorry your show got canceled," I got all shrill: "Not canceled! Postponed! It's not the same thing!" Well, it's officially canceled. After weeks of speculation, Live Nation began sending out the sad, sad emails about refunds.

Guys, how could you do this me? All summer long, I listened to friends' ecstatic reports about seeing U2 and Incubus and Bruce Springsteen, patiently waiting for my moment — mine! — to hear "Cemeteries of London" and "The Scientist" live. This is the thanks I get for (pointlessly) rebuking the naysayers? You don't call yourselves COLDplay for nothing.

Of course, you'll release another CD of soaring anthems, I'll eventually get to see you play live, and all will be forgiven. In the meantime, those tweets about your awesome gigs in (insert European city here) aren't helping me heal.

Noise pollution

2009-09-14T18:16:00.000-07:00

While we were in Atlanta last weekend, we met a friend of our in-laws who is from Ghana. She met President Obama when he was in Ghana over the summer, and she's a fan. The conversation eventually turned to American politics and the hoopla over health care reform, and she asked me a question I couldn't really answer: "Why are people so angry? I don't understand."

I muttered something about a segment of people being wary of anything that smacks of "socialism," even if they couldn't define it at gunpoint. I also explained that the complexity of our current health care delivery system makes it difficult to have an informed, coherent conversation about reform, and that people are frightened in hard economic times. But the more I talked, the more I realized that none of those arguments explained the vitriol or the naked rage we'd been seeing on the news.

I feel compelled to say that it is absolutely OK to disagree with Obama's health care proposal or any of his proposals. Rock on. Dissent plays a huge role in our nation's history, and it's nice to live in a country where it won't get you thrown in jail, or worse. But the town hall meeting shenanigans and the congressional heckling and the protect-our-kids-from-Obama sentiment and the commentator fear-mongering have nothing to do with policy or ideas.

Back in my hometown, the city school system decided not to let students watch the president's speech because doing so would take 18 minutes out of the school day. Really? When I was in high school, it was routine for pep rallies to last two class periods during football season. But a speech about staying in school and taking responsibility for your education is too distracting. Right.

If my reaction to all this appears delayed, it's because I'm genuinely troubled by what the "health care" debate has revealed. Or maybe it hasn't revealed anything so much as reminded us of that thing's presence, however diminished it might be.

Dispatch from Dragon*Con

2009-09-06T13:19:00.000-07:00

I'm in Atlanta attending Dragon*Con, my first-ever comic/sci-fi convention! It's all sort of overwhelming, even with the husband as my (his words) "assistant." Everywhere you look, there are people in incredibly detailed getups, and they're all more than happy to pose for photos. I'll definitely post the best when I return to the ranch. The coolest thing is seeing whole families in costume and getting into the spirit of things. As for me, I'm perfectly fine in my Star Wars T-shirt. The Stormtroopers I posed with certainly appreciated it.

Highlights? Definitely meeting the wonderful George Perez and Darwyn Cooke. In addition to being wildly talented and influential, they're both kind to their fans. Oh, and I got to pose with a blinking, chirping, mobile R2-D2 unit. Not a bad way to spend Labor Day weekend.

Thoughts On Random Comics

2009-08-30T11:56:00.000-07:00

A few thoughts about comics purchased over the last two weeks:

1. Did Tom Tresser/Nemesis seriously turn down Wonder Woman's offer to mend fences during "a long hot shower?(Issue No. 35)" I've been reading "Wonder Woman" off and on since 1977, and I have never seen her make a proposal quite like that. Not that I'm hating, because I've written before about how previous writers tiptoed around the sexuality of arguably the sexiest character in the D.C. universe. Some readers howled when Diana began her relationship with Metahuman Affairs Agent Tresser, but I thought Gail Simone developed their Amazonian courtship nicely. And when he found out that her original motive was just to keep her bloodline going ... ouch. Diana's attempt to make up Teddy Pendergrass-style was totally unexpected, as was Tresser's "We're through" response. Yeah, like that would really happen.

2. I can't believe I fell for the "Archie proposes to Veronica" gimmick, but like a chump, I bought Archie No. 600, the first of SIX issues devoted to this storyline. There is so much wrong with this comic, including the idea that all the major players would stick around after graduation to attend "State University" in Riverdale. Wouldn't Dilton at least have gotten a full ride at an Ivy League school? Spoilers ahead! So upon college graduation, Archie — despite having no job — blows a check from his parents on a ring for Veronica. Betty (now a New York City career woman) and Jughead just happen to be walking past the jewelry store when Archie pops the question. She's devastated, but can someone explain to me why she wants him to begin with? Again, Archie is unemployed, so Mr. Lodge swoops in to give him a bullshit position at Lodge Enterprises. Meanwhile, Veronica begins planning what is sure to be a tacky production devoted to her ego, complete with 22 bridesmaids. The issue ends with her asking (No, she didn't!) Betty to be her maid of honor, and Betty simultaneously declaring, "You won." There is a genuinely funny panel where Veronica tells her wedding planner that the event can't be "a low-key" affair like the Obama inauguration ball.

3. "Red Robin" started out with promise, but a few things are starting to bug me. It's really not like Tim Drake, even in grief, to run off to Europe on a wild goose chase. I can understand him being pissed off about Dick Grayson's insistence on bringing Damian Wayne into the Bat-fold, but I can't see him cutting ties completely. He and Dick (and Alfred) are awfully close, and why would he give Damian the satisfaction of leaving? Plus, the art in this issue was particularly awful. In some panels, Tim looks like a wiry teenager, which makes sense. In others, he looks like a 30-year-old, which is nuts. I'm giving this title one more chance, and only because I am so fond of the character.

Geeking Out On "Batman and Robin"

2009-08-29T19:56:00.000-07:00

My friend S., a fellow comic book geek, refuses to buy Grant Morrison's sublime "Batman and Robin" because, well, he's still smarting from "Final Crisis." I think S. has reached the end of his tolerance for the author's ambitious brand of storytelling, which sometimes comes across as the result of marathon Sharpie-huffing. I admit that there are entire issues of "Final Crisis" that made no sense to me, even after repeat readings.

But "Batman and Robin" is a completely different animal, and it's great stuff. It's only three issues old, but next to "Secret Six," it's become the book I look forward to most each month — even ahead of (gasp) "Wonder Woman." The combination of Morrison's writing and Frank Quitely's art has been just about perfect, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about what happens when Philip Tan steps into the artist's role in issue No. 4. But so far, this book has hit its marks every time. S., are you listening? We'll talk.

This should be obvious to anyone with a passing knowledge of Morrison's work, but "Batman & Robin" is not for the children. My 9-year-old son desperately wants to read it, but the just-concluded Professor Pyg storyline — in which a pig-masked nutcase tries to unleash disease-carrying "Dollotrons" throughout Gotham City — is the stuff of effed-up nightmares. Pyg isn't just villanous; he's sick. (Spoiler alert!) There's a series of panels involving an briefly abducted Damian Wayne (Robin), who becomes an audience of one for the professor's creepy cabaret dance. Seriously, at one point, old boy is dropping it like it's hot and ripping off his shirt ("I want to be sick in public!"), which is one of the most disturbing things I've ever seen in a mainstream comic book. But Damian — having been raised by assassins and all — is pretty unflappable, and once he gets free and starts kicking everyone's ass, it's clear that the boy can handle himself in extreme situations.

I'm very curious to see how Damian's relationship with Batman/Dick Grayson (swoon!) gels over the months, because their dynamic is different from any previous Batman-and-Robin pairing. There are moments of playfulness (Damian suggests they go by "Robin and Batman"), but there is nothing happy-go-lucky about Bruce Wayne's son. Remember; this is the kid who beheaded a criminal in "Batman and Son" and tried to kill Robin III, Tim Drake. He's a handful for Dick and Alfred, and I suspect Morrison has some big plans for this character's development.

Mr. Tan, good luck to you.

Bumper Sticker Of The Week

2009-08-26T18:56:00.000-07:00

I just happened to have my good camera in the car when I spotted this in front of me on Park Avenue last week. It's sort of clever, but I'm not a fan of advertising your relationship status and mate requirements via bumper sticker. I do wonder what the liberal version of this would be, though.

Giving Away The Skim Milk For Free

2009-08-22T12:04:00.000-07:00

Done well, a film trailer can be almost as satisfying as full-length film. Ideally, it captures your attention while giving away just enough information to leave you wanting more. In the case of a flick like "Watchmen," the trailer was apparently far better than the movie it was attached to.

My issues with the average romantic comedy have been well documented here, but I'm always surprised by how bad the trailers are. You'd think the studios would be at least savvy enough to not give the entire plot away. The first time I noticed this was when the trailer for "No Reservations" — the Catherine Zeta-Jones/Aaron Eckhart chefs-in-love movie — aired in 2007. She's a hard-charging chef caring for her dead sister's adorable daughter! He's the fun-loving, hot new guy in the kitchen! Their styles clash, but will he be the one who shows her how to embrace life — and love? Gee, do you think? Unless you're a big fan of either actor, why would you pay 8 bucks or more to see it when the trailer tells you exactly what's going to happen?

Not to harp on Eckhart, who really is an appealing actor, but he's starring in another movie ("Love Happens") that's guilty of giving away most of its milk for free via trailer. He's a successful self-help expert in pain. Enter the beautiful florist who has sworn off men. Can these two wounded souls find love again ... together? For real?

In the same week, I saw the trailer for "All About Steve," in which Sandra Bullock's wacky, unlucky-in-love character stalks a TV cameraman played by Bradley Cooper. OK. I can see stalking Bradley Cooper, and Thomas Haden Church automatically elevates any movie. But I hate it when a trailer indicates that a morally ambiguous character is going to redeem him/herself, and is inspired to do so because of some potential love interest who "isn't like anyone I've ever met." No. Also, major points off for the use of Sara Bareilles "Love Song," which is just insulting.

Maybe the real problem is my suspicion that neither of these movies are going to be very good. Sure, there were some expected moments in the "Sex and the City" movie (Did anyone doubt that Carrie and Big would get back together?), but the journey was satisfying and too complex to be reduced to a two-minute trailer. Give me something to look forward to.

Why Can't We Be Friends?

2009-08-19T16:34:00.000-07:00

When my husband J. and I were dating, he had a great friendship with a single, female co-worker, a woman I liked very much and never thought of as threatening. I also had several good male friends at the time, and one of them routinely hung out with me to watch "Party of Five" or just gab over dinner. If J. thought that was a problem, he never said anything — and he isn't really the type to brood quietly. Come to think of it, we both still have pals of the opposite sex, and our basic attitude remains, "Whatever."

According to comedian Steve Harvey, now a relationship expert/correspondent for "Good Morning America," we are idiots. He is of the opinion that these "outside relationships" are nothing but trouble, and that men and women can't be friends. Period. Occasionally, I've worked with guys who've said that their wives/significant others would not be happy to see them having lunch or coffee (in broad daylight) with a female colleague, and that baffles me. I mean, I think my husband is sexy and fun to be with, but I don't assume that the other women in his life are all trying to get in his boxer briefs. Plus, I'd like to give him a little credit for having these things called boundaries and self-control (Unless the friend in question is Mila Kunis, in which case I've been warned that things could get murky.)

I've always thought that friendship is a form of attraction, and obviously, there are relationships between married people and their "friends" of the opposite sex that end up on a mattress (Hello, Gov. Sanford!). But that doesn't just happen out of the blue, either. Assuming that a) the spouse isn't a lying asshole; b) the marriage isn't already in trouble; c) s/he is conducting the friendship in a respectful, open way; and d) the parties involved aren't fooling themselves about their feelings, I can't buy Harvey's theory. I've known too many great guys to believe that they see women only as potential conquests. When I went through a crummy breakup in college, one of the first people I called was my childhood friend, B., who gave me the kind of no-bullshit analysis men are so good at ("Move on; he has.") We've been friends for more than 30 years and we adore each other's spouses — and we are so not interested in each other that way.

However, if you spot J. having a drink with Mila Kunis, a heads-up would be nice.

Seriously. Enough.

2009-08-17T17:57:00.000-07:00

I realize that vampires had their fans long before "Twilight," and if I owned a store with any vampire-themed wares, I'd be promoting the heck out of them right now. I totally get it. OK?

But when I walked into Borders this weekend and saw a huge display dedicated to the Gen Y vampires of "Twilight," "Blue Bloods," etc., I was overcome with exhaustion. Maybe it's because, for the umpteenth time this year, the cover of my beloved Entertainment Weekly is devoted to some permutation of the "Twilight" saga — this time, the "New Moon" sequel. Or maybe it's because I can't walk through a checkout aisle without a publication telling me that Robert Pattinson (Edward) and Kristen Stewart (Bella) are in love/breaking up/just pals/totally doing it. And didn't I just see a commercial for the CW's new teen drama "The Vampire Diaries?"

Again, I understand that Stephanie Meyer is but one of several writers who happened to write a series of books about vampires. Hers is the biggest, and she's certainly doing her part to help keep food on booksellers' tables. (And to be fair, when the "Harry Potter" books were at their peak, bookstores were pimping every children's series that looked like JK Rowling might have had something to do with it). "New Moon" will probably be a huge hit this fall, and as I've admitted, I haven't exactly been immune to Pattinson's charms as Edward Cullen. HBO's "True Blood" seems like the kind of show I would love, and I'm looking forward to renting the DVDs and getting acclimated. But for the love of God. I feel we're at the beginning some cosmic shark-jumping moment that will end in a Disney vampire musical featuring songs by Demi Lovato.

Thanks For The Memories, John

2009-08-07T12:45:00.000-07:00

For all the memorable quotes and scenes in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off," one of my favorite parts of the movie is the wordless montage at the Art Institute of Chicago. The main trio takes in the paintings, holds hands with a group of kids on a field trip, and sweethearts Ferris and Sloane share a tender kiss. It's just a sweet and magical moment, the kind that director John Hughes executed so well in the 1980s. I remember seeing that movie and thinking it must have been made by someone who knew that, underneath the snark and assholery, teenagers were human beings. (OK, I was 16, so I was mostly thinking, "Matthew Broderick is so cute!" But you know what I mean.)

Hughes' teen-themed movies could be uneven, and not all of them aged as well as "Ferris Bueller's Day Off." But he almost always gave you The Moment, the one that made up for Judd Nelson's scenery chewing or the wrongness of Long Duk Dong. I am also grateful for his hand in making a star out of Molly Ringwald, who helped broaden the teen cinema standard of pretty. She was not a typical Breck girl, and some of us really appreciated that.

One of these days when my kids are older, we'll "Pretty in Pink" together, and they'll laugh at the clothes, roll their eyes at some of the plot points and wonder why Andie is so hung up on Blane (Because he's played by Andrew McCarthy! Hello?). But I also bet that, deep down, they'll kind of dig it.

R.I.P., John Hughes

2009-08-06T14:40:00.001-07:00

I can't even form a coherent blog post right now. The Summer of Gen X-Related Death continues.

Book Of The Month: "Whatever Happened To the Man Of Tomorrow?"

2009-08-04T14:47:00.000-07:00

Though I accept that Alan Moore is an exceptional and groundbreaking writer, I’ve often found his work difficult to love. However, when Moore’s “Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?” stories were reissued in trade form, I went directly to the comics shop and bought the book. This volume is delightful, and it’s a great read whether you’re a hardcore comics lover or a casual reader with only basic knowledge of Superman.

Written in the 1980s as the final chapter for the Silver Age Superman, “Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?” is touching, haunting and playful in all the right places — and in a way, it highlights the problem with the lack of an expiration date on iconic comic book characters. No one stays dead (or missing) in comic books anymore, and it is harder to care when you know that a the story of a character’s life has no real end. As wonderful as Neil Gaiman’s “Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader?” story was — and it was plenty wonderful — it was undermined a little by the knowledge that Bruce Wayne isn’t really gone for good.

Of course, this makes perfect sense from a business standpoint, and new readers keep discovering (and rediscovering) these titles. My point is that the level of poignancy that Moore achieved here is rare because the medium doesn’t often allow for it. A character like Superman is so much more compelling when he is ultimately defeated by something, whether it’s mortality or a changing world. Superman was rebooted in 1986 with “The Man of Steel” arc, but Moore’s story represents the end of a long and storied era. You should read it.

"One Time:" Just Give In Already

2009-07-28T18:18:00.000-07:00

I've been accused of music snobbery before, but my friends know I have a weakness for the sweet, straightforward pop song. A while back, it was David Archuletta's "Crush," the aural equivalent of a cupcake with confetti sprinkles.

Now, the culprit is 15-year-old Usher protege Justin Bieber. With his Zack and Cody aura and fondness for hip-hop hand gestures, Bieber could easily be mistaken for the devil's work. (Remember Aaron Carter? I do.) When his "One Time" video first flashed across our TV screen last weekend, I had my phaser set on "Hate." But as my kids' heads bobbed to this infectious little gem, well, I had to admit that it was good stuff. I felt a little better when my brother told me that "One Time" has been his jam for a while now.

You win, kid.

You Know You Want To

2009-07-27T11:02:00.000-07:00

AMC's "Mad Men" is such a great show, so I couldn't resist the opportunity to turn myself into the newest dish (and trailblazing African American) at the Sterling Cooper Advertising Agency. "Mad Men Yourself" — which allows you to create a vintage illustration inspired by the show — is loads of fun, but also an addictive time suck. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Why Didn't I Think Of This?

2009-07-24T08:33:00.000-07:00

Anyone who has planned a wedding knows that there's a point at which any sense of fun feels far, far away. The details, the managing of expectations and the family wrangling are enough to make a sane person run to the nearest courthouse. And considering the cost, more of us probably should have.

That's why I am so taken with the now-famous video of Jill Peterson and Kevin Heinz's wedding entrance. In case you're one of the 12 people who haven't seen it, the Minnesota couple and bridal party danced their way down the aisle to Chris Brown's "Forever," and the result was pure joy. I've been to a lot of weddings, and a few of them incorporated choreography in a way that was ... unfortunate. However, this couple and their friends were true to the idea that a wedding is (or should be) a celebration.

While most of the feedback has been positive, a few people have griped that the routine was inappropriate for a church. I say poppycock. It's not like they were grinding to Li'l Wayne's "Lollipop." I grew up going to church, so I understand that it is The House of the Lord. But I also think human beings get huffy about things that God couldn't care less about. If that routine is at all indicative of the life these two will have together, I can't imagine the maker being anything but tickled.

In Praise Of Love Stories That Don't Insult The Audience

2009-07-23T12:37:00.001-07:00

I hope that new movie starring Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler fails spectacularly. I want it to land in theaters with a thud, and for that thud to echo in the silence. I want the echo to reverberate all the way to the Hollywood offices of the people who green-lit another generic, candy-coated romantic comedy starring two gorgeous actors masquerading as regular people.

I don't have anything against Heigl and Butler, but for God's sake. The trailer for "The Ugly Truth" all but says, "Hey, women! You'll go see this because it's about romance and Gerard Butler may be shirtless at some point."

A romantic movie I'm much (much) more hopeful about is "Adam," the story of a woman (Rose Byrne) who falls for a man (Hugh Dancy) with Aspbergers Syndrome. Maybe "Adam" will turn out to be one of those too-quirky-for-its-own-good flicks, but the trailer is completely charming. Dancy doesn't appear to be playing his character as over-the-top odd, and at one point he says, "I'm not Forrest Gump, you know."

My interest in this movie is somewhat personal: My 9-year-old son is somewhere at the so-called mild end of the autism spectrum, and I've often wondered how he will navigate romantic relationships once he grows up. Like Dancy's Adam, he is personable and handsome, but he doesn't always grasp the subtleties of social communication. I hate the idea of that making life harder for him, but he's come a long way — and he's hardly alone. I'm sure there are plenty of adults on the spectrum who found love (all relationships are imperfect), and it's cool that a filmmaker is offering up that perspective.

"Adam" will probably make less in six months than "The Ugly Truth" will rake in opening weekend, but just knowing that it exists makes me feel better.

Quickfail

2009-07-15T07:37:00.000-07:00

Dear Kim Kardashian:

I didn't want to like you, but you managed to win me over with your unexpected sweetness and willingness to answer almost any question. And I must say that current boyfriend Reggie Bush is a vast improvement over your ex, Ray-J, whose popularity with the ladies continues to baffle me.

What really impressed me was your interview with Muscle & Fitness Hers. You came across like a normal woman who has worked hard to get in shape and stay there. Your frustration with the wafer-thin beauty standard in L.A. was palpable, and I like how you are representing for women who are not shaped like 12-year-old boys — all while working hard in the gym to keep the junk in the trunk from overflowing. Heck, I was inspired. I told my friend H. that I was going to keep you in mind when that last running interval/Arnold press/lunge seemed too difficult to complete.

But then you and your sister Khloe cooked up some weight-loss product called Quicktrim, a "cleanse" that you plan to market and sell. First, there's that name. Why perpetuate the lie that body transformation is a quick and easy process? The last thing people need is more sketchy information and false hope about permanent weight loss. And you must know that, somewhere in the back of their minds, the women who plan to buy this stuff are hoping that it will make their bodies look like yours — fine print, be damned.

Judging from the reaction from fitness-loving types, this hasn't exactly bolstered your credibility. (Although you are a long, long way from "fat," the last resort of haters.) That's too bad, because it was refreshing to hear some real talk about nutrition and exercise from someone who appeared to be in the trenches with the rest of us — that is, if we were rich and worked out with Gunnar Peterson. You know what I mean.

Still, Reggie Bush? Major upgrade.

Sincerely,
EDP

Sounds Like Summer

2009-07-10T17:32:00.000-07:00

I really don't want to hear another person claim that the Black-Eyed Peas' "Boom Boom Pow" is the song of the summer. It is not. That honor must go to "Lisztomania," the utterly delightful, effervescent cut by French rock band Phoenix. It's a standout song on "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix," an album full of very good songs. When I heard Phoenix playing in my favorite comic book hangout recently, I smiled. This is usually not the case when I hear music being played in stores.

"Lisztomania" is pretty fabulous by itself, but it made my day when a friend sent me this video of the song set to scenes from classic, '80s teen films. If I had not been in my office, I would have gotten up and done the Molly Ringwald dance, which I used to kill back in the day.

Sorry, Fergie.

Worst Landlord, Ever

2009-07-09T07:39:00.000-07:00

I have had some colorful landlords in my time. Most memorable is the senior gentleman who oversaw my building in Tampa’s Hyde Park in the mid-‘90s. He was wee, often shirtless, and was a competitive dancer of some sort. That’s Florida for you.

But in my entire decade as a renter, I never had a drunken psychopath for a landlord. Gabe Dunn did, and he has chronicled the experience in a set of riveting blog posts about his former landlord and housemate, Gary.

To get a sense of this guy, imagine Mr. Roper of “Three’s Company” on coke. In addition to having many run-ins with the cops, Gary steals from his tenants, leaves Gabe profane, barely coherent voice mails, and writes his housemates unintentionally hilarious notes: “GABE: I AM NOT IN JAIL!!!” Gabe remains remarkably calm throughout, which is wise when you’re dealing with someone this unhinged.

It's All Over But The Shoutin'

2009-07-07T08:33:00.000-07:00

One of the many weird things that happens when a celebrity dies: Many people insist that the period following their demise is "not the time" to criticize them or bring up the unsavory parts of their narrative. I guess U.S. Rep. Pete King (NY) disagrees, because in his now-infamous video video blasting the media for 24/7 MJ coverage, he referred to the departed artist as "a lowlife," "child molester," "pedophile" and a "pervert."

"He died. He had some talent; fine," Rep. King said. "There's nothing good about this guy."

King's comments were over the top, and while there is plenty of speculation, Michael Jackson was never found guilty of anything. That doesn't mean he didn't do what he was accused of (Hello, O.J.!), but that's what our legal system decided. Over on Facebook (of course), there was some discussion about whether old boy owes the Jackson family an apology. Actually, it wasn't even a discussion. It was a lot of people saying King was a hater and that the real fault, if any, was with the parents who had their kids all up in Neverland.

Wow.

I've made clear my love of Michael Jackson's early music and persona, but I'm struck, once again, by how easy it is to conflate fame and talent with virtue. King's video was presumptuous, but so are the impassioned arguments that Michael was all about healing the world and its children. The bottom line is that we don't know, and the last 15 years of Jackson's public life were not reassuring. Like, at all. And isn't there a valid discussion to be had about whether an artist — even one as electrifying and game-changing as Jackson — deserves this much coverage, analysis (heh) and reverence? Very few people seem to be concerned about the emotional Pandora's Box that Jackson's death potentially opens for the young men who accused him of molestation. Remember; the first case was settled for a tidy sum somewhere north of $20 million.

While I'm very tempted to say that King's video was way insensitive, it could be said that the posthumous lovefest is insensitive to Jackson's onetime alleged victims.

I doubt very seriously that Jackson achieved megastardom by being child-like, delicate and unassuming. Somewhere underneath was a savvy and extremely ambitious soul who, in death, certainly doesn't need anyone to protect him from his detractors.

I Have To Admit ...

2009-07-06T10:57:00.000-07:00

As tacky as this picture from Runner's World is, I'll give Sarah Palin this much: She is in impressively good shape. Maybe it's at least partly genetic, but for someone who has had five children - heck, for someone her age who has had NO children - she has a great figure. You don't get legs like that by sitting on the couch with US Weekly. I guess she'll have plenty of time to work out now.

I've Got Your Soul Mate

2009-07-01T06:21:00.000-07:00

South Carolina Gov. Mark Sanford can't seem to stop talking about Argentina Maria's whip appeal, even though his wife and kids might not welcome the information. I particularly loved his assessment of the situation as a tragic love story, which is not surprising considering that he actually referenced "The Thornbirds" in his goopy mash notes. And how nice of him to say that he would try to fall back in love with his wife even though Maria is his "soul mate."

I'd like to suggest the following for Merriem-Webster:

soul⋅mate
Pronunciation [sōl-māt]
–noun
1. a romantic partner, usually brand-new, who has not yet been seen in ratty sweats while folding laundry or making annoying throat-clearing noises.
2. an idealized person experienced only in candlelight, high thread-count sheets and swooning emails, far, far away from the daily drudgery of child-rearing and bill-paying.
3. a person who "gets" you, despite not having seen the real you — good, bad and really ugly.

I consider myself a romantic person, and I don't begrudge anyone the magical experience of falling in love. Marriage is hard, and not everybody needs to stay married. Shit happens. What I don't understand is why the governor seems so invested in defending his actions instead of repairing the damage he's done to his family or moving on with what's left of his dignity. If Sanford wants to get a divorce and split for bliss in Argentina, then he needs to do it like a man and accept the consequences — one of which is probably his kids thinking he's a self-absorbed asshat.

On the other hand, he has a real potential as a writer of romance novels.

Michael Jackson And The Elephant

2009-06-30T11:42:00.000-07:00

In 1994, Vanity Fair published "Nightmare in Neverland," the first of several articles that convinced me that Michael Jackson's relationships with children were messed up. Written by Maureen Orth, these cover stories stood out because they were deeply reported, incredibly detailed and well sourced. Most of all, they were disturbing. I came away thinking that even if nothing illegal took place (and that's a stretch), Jackson, at the very least, displayed appalling judgment and had been sheltered from the consequences of his "eccentricity" for a long time.

Orth still stands by her stories, and as she pointed out recently on Vanity Fair's Web site, the King of Pop's camp never legally challenged them.

As the shock of Jackson's death was wearing off, I re-read "Nightmare in Neverland" to get some perspective. It is just as damning now as it was 15 years ago. I realize he was never convicted, but there was far too much smoke surrounding that situation for me to believe that there was no fire. Nearly all the adults around the then-13-year-old alleged victim seemed to be asleep at the wheel. I mean, what kind of parent lets a kid have multiple sleepovers with a non-related adult, some of them away from their direct supervision? What kind of grown man engineers them?

Of course, there are a lot of people who don't want to be reminded of this. I have heard more than one person say that they hope Michael is remembered for his artistic contributions and not the scandals that consumed his life from the '90s on. But why does a person's legacy have to be either-or? It is entirely possible for a person to be very gifted, very famous and very disturbed. After all, this is a man who said he dangled his baby over a balcony railing "out of innocence." Yet, one of my friends was taking heat on her Facebook page for refusing to join in the public grieving.

If the adulation has been overwhelming, it's because many people (me included) were mourning the young, charming Michael Jackson and the memories that go along with the image. But that person left the building a long, long time ago, if he ever truly existed. Michael Jackson left behind some wonderful, timeless music, and he helped give Gen X one hell of a soundtrack for its adolescence. Along with that is a very large, creepy elephant in the room.

Hello, Gorgeous

2009-06-29T13:26:00.000-07:00

Is there a comics fan out there who didn't love J.H. Williams III's ravishing art work in Detective Comics No. 854? Greg Rucka's introduction-to-Batwoman storyline was certainly good, which I expected. But Williams' visuals stole the show, and I am already steeling myself for the inevitable letdown when a new artist takes over. It's been a while since I really lingered over the pages of a comic book this way or re-read it just to ponder how the artist pulled it off.

What A Week

2009-06-28T10:52:00.000-07:00

I don't care how politically incorrect it was; "Charlie's Angels" was the show for girls of a certain age in the 1970s. Show me the woman who didn't want to be Farrah, Jaclyn or Kate back in the day, and I'll show you someone who grew up on a commune.

I had the "Charlie's Angels" dolls, but as far as I'm concerned, my collection was never totally legit. Why? Because my mom couldn't find Farrah. Instead, I had to settle for the plastic likeness of her second season replacement, Cheryl Ladd. No disrespect to Ms. Ladd, but it wasn't the same. "Charlie's Angels" without Farrah was like Van Halen without David Lee Roth. (And considering that "The Six Million Dollar Man" was also one of my favorite shows, I was heavily invested in that whole Lee Majors/Farrah Fawcett-Majors thing.)

My friend V. and I were talking about how we tried to re-create the Farrah flip with a curling iron and rollers, which is difficult for a black girl with unprocessed hair. The results were unintentionally funny, but such was the extent of Farrah's Breck girl appeal.

Gen X has had a pretty awful week in the icon loss department. Like my friend B. said, it makes you want to go find Madonna and give her a hug, just in case.

"The Hangover:" Maybe You've Heard Of It

2009-06-27T18:49:00.000-07:00

The news about Michael Jackson had me in a weird mood, so I was grateful when my husband suggested we get a sitter and to to a movie. Naturally, we picked "The Hangover," a movie that my friends without children saw weeks ago. I knew it had to be good when my little sister raved about it, because if you looked up "jaded urban hipster" in the encyclopedia, her picture would be next to the term.

"The Hangover" is indeed a very funny and endlessly quotable film, though it strikes me as the kind people will either love or hate. As Bradley Cooper's character Phil might say, if you're gonna be all sensitive and shit, don't bother going. The road trip movie has been done to death, but "The Hangover" is totally aware of what a cliche the Vegas bachelor's weekend is - which is why it's so much fun to see things go terribly, outrageously wrong. Plus, I like comedies that are essentially about the dynamics of friendship and the roles we all play in our various tribes.

Cooper's role? Sexy beast. I'd seen him in a couple of earlier movies, but either I wasn't paying close enough attention or dude has skyrocketed up the hotness scale since then. And I love Zach Galifianakis' utter lack of vanity in playing Alan, a creepy misfit (and Jonas Brothers fan!) whose idea of bonding involves a blood pact. Ed Helms is a stitch as a henpecked dentist who, at one point, sings an impromptu ballad about Mike Tyson's pet tiger.

Of course, there's already talk of a sequel, but I hope a bigger budget and heightened expectations don't ruin the magic.

Goodbye, Michael

2009-06-25T18:34:00.000-07:00

The morning after Princess Diana died, my husband woke me from a deep sleep and thrust the newspaper in my hands. It didn't seem quite real, and I remember thinking that only the deaths of Madonna or Michael Jackson would have been more shocking.

It's an understatement to say that Michael Jackson was a complicated figure - a crazy talented human being who belongs on pop culture's Mount Rushmore. I can't imagine what popular music would sound like without him. As his story became increasingly bizarre and tawdry, I wanted to believe that the handsome icon of my youth was separate from the facially unrecognizable tabloid fixture of the last 15-plus years. Genius and darkness often go together, but the disconnect between what I hoped and what I suspected was pretty extreme in this case.

As I wrote last year, seeing other artists attempt to pay tribute to M.J. - something we'll be seeing plenty of in the days ahead - has always been a little sad. It will be even moreso now.

I'm going to go listen to "Off The Wall," easily one of the best R&B albums ever made. I never get tired of listening to it.

Pardon The Interruption

2009-06-18T19:16:00.000-07:00

Not like anyone cares, but I'm boarding an Amtrak tomorrow with the family for a vacation in our nation's capital. My daughter C. has told all of her friends that she's going to see "a statue of Hammerhead Lincoln," and J., our son, is annoyed that we can't pay the Obamas a visit.

Washington, D.C., is one of my favorite cities. Let's see if it still is by the time this trip is over.

Target, You Disappoint Me

2009-06-17T18:52:00.000-07:00

Dear Target:

I am madly in love with you. You know that. Most days, I would crawl on broken glass past a Wal-Mart to get to your beautiful Thakoon T-shirts and Method body washes. The only way Wal-Mart could get me to switch teams is by hiring greeters who look like Idris Elba and Simon Baker - and maybe not even then.

That being said, Target, mixing the plus-sized clothes with the Liz Lange maternity wear is an asshole move. And do I really need to point out that the LL outfits are better looking? It's like someone at corporate said, "Fat is fat. Plus-sized, pregnant, who cares? But let's put the big girl clothes slightly behind the maternity wear, since pregnant women are only fat temporarily."

I can wear quite a few things in your Misses section now, but since my bottom half refuses to go quietly, I still need stylish, plus-sized stuff to cover it. But it's not just about me. You're better than this. You're the discount retailer with good breeding, remember? This is not behavior befitting a store that brought Thomas O'Brien to the masses, and I expect more from you.

Hopelessly devoted to you,
EDP

Best Use Of Ferns, Ever

2009-06-15T13:20:00.001-07:00

Between Two Ferns with Zach Galifianakis from Between Two Ferns

Everybody's all about Zach Galifianakis now that he's in the hit movie "The Hangover," but some of us saw glimpses of his awesomeness a while ago. And for free! His "Between Two Ferns" sketches on Funny or Die — in which he needles celebrities with bitter, inappropriate questions — are laugh-out-loud funny. My favorite is his interview with "Hangover" co-star Bradley Cooper. Best line: "You are on the cover of Details magazine, which is a nice publication if you have run out of cologne." This is trumped only by the frightening appearance of Carrot Top.

Red Robin Doesn't Suck

2009-06-13T17:25:00.000-07:00

When word first began circulating about all the Bat-family reshuffling, my first question was, “What’s going to happen to Tim (Drake) Wayne?” After Wonder Woman, Tim – Robin III, if you like – is my favorite DC Comics character. With Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne cast as the new Batman & Robin, I was afraid DC was going to so something dumb like “kill” Tim or send him off-grid for a year during the reboot.

Alas, Tim is alive and (sorta) well as Red Robin, but I had no expectations that Red Robin No. 1 would be good. In fact, as I reluctantly handed over my $2.99, I was mentally preparing for abject disappointment. What a pleasant surprise that it was a good read and a thoughtful step forward for the character.

Unlike Dick, Tim became an orphan relatively recently, when his biological father died in the events of “Identity Crisis.” Batman’s disappearance has hit him particularly hard, and it certainly doesn’t help that Damian – who once tried to kill him – is not only wearing the Robin costume but also taunting him as an imposter. Bruce may have adopted Tim, but Damian is playing the biological card.

At first, this struck me as outrageous. Why would Dick allow that evil little shit to be Robin to his Batman? But considering the enormous responsibility Dick feels to honor Batman’s legacy, I can see how he would take it upon himself to raise and rehabilitate Damian as Bruce might have. He views Tim as his highly capable younger brother who can assist the new team in any way he likes. But Tim, angry and grieving, isn’t convinced that Batman is dead. So after punching Damian in the face (yay!) he heads to Europe to think, fight some bad guys in a new costume and, ever the detective, search for Bruce.

Tim almost always has his wits about him, so it’s interesting to see him question his state of mind and place in the world. Chris Yost’s storyline is pretty intense, and the art’s not bad – though Tim seems to morph into a 30-year-old bodybuilder when he’s in costume. Overall, it’s a promising character evolution that has raised my hopes for Red Robin considerably.

Parenting Fail

2009-06-12T06:27:00.000-07:00

Actual conversation with my 4-year-old daughter, C., on the way to preschool:

"Mommy, remember this old Jonas Brothers song? 'Vereh superstitious, writing's on the waaaaall ...' "

"Nononononono. That's not theirs. A man named Stevie Wonder sang it first."

"No, he didn't."

"Um, yes, he did. That song was written before they were even born. It's a very old song."

"(Sigh.) No. They sang it in a video. Remember?"

And then I launched into a semi-hysterical recounting of Stevie Wonder's life and times, which surely changed her mind. When I told my friend M. what happened, he suggested I buy "Songs in the Key of Life" immediately and pipe it into her room, then repeat with "Innervisions" and "Talking Book."

I hadn't planned on conducting an intervention between swimming lessons and play dates this weekend, but C. has left me no choice.

She's Got Legs

2009-06-08T15:59:00.000-07:00

If you're a woman of a certain age in Tallahassee, you have to be OK with seeing uber-fit, gorgeous, (much) younger women all the time. In a town with two universities and a community college, they're a given; a fact of life. A friend in her 50s told me that I'd eventually get to a point where I'd stop seeing them through competitive eyes and regarding them in the fashion of a lovely painting or vase of flowers.

It started happening somewhere around my 37th birthday. Maybe it's because I was out of the breeding game or reasonably certain that my husband wasn't going to leave his family for a psychology major named Destiny. But ever since then, when I see a pretty young woman (inevitably) jogging down the street, my first thought is usually, "She's adorable! I hope she doesn't think she's fat."

That is, 99 percent of the time. I am human, and every blue moon, I see someone so outrageously fit/attractive that I want to drop what I'm doing and find a 24-hour gym that also offers plastic surgery. One such moment came Friday night, when the husband and I were hanging out with friends at a new wine bar. A mini-skirted woman with the best legs this side of 2000-era Britney Spears walked in, and we muttered a collective "Holy shit." I can't even hate, because it was clear that Hot Gams (left) has a serious workout game. Even when I was 22, my legs did not look like this.

I'm sure she and her friends wondered why some suburban mom was pointing a camera in their direction, but the moment had to be documented. Identities have been protected, though if it were me, I would want the world to know.

Shot Through The Heart

2009-06-08T12:42:00.000-07:00

I've written before about how much I've enjoyed Ultimate Spider-Man, easily one of the most consistently well-written comics I read regularly. After a long, satisfying run, the title ended last week with No. 133. I'm still too upset to discuss this coherently, not necessarily because the book ended but because of the godawful way it ended. Imagine one of your favorite television shows going out in a giant, flaming ball of WTF, and you'll have an idea of how pissed off I am.

Brian Hibbs of The Savage Critics put it perfectly: "Fuck. Seriously, you can't do a wordless comic for $4. FUCK, and no, you can't end your run on the book on such a downer note. Especially not a book like this."

Thanks, Marvel.

It's Always Hammer Time

2009-06-08T07:02:00.000-07:00

A flash mob promoting M.C. Hammer's new reality show — complete with gold parachute pants — dropped in on some unsuspecting L.A. shoppers. Man, you never see stuff like this at the Blair Stone Kohl's.

Damn It.

2009-06-05T06:48:00.000-07:00

My good friend J. mailed me a big care package of books, and this was included. Yes, I am reading it. I know I said I wasn't going to read its predecessor, "New Moon," but it's too late for me now. Save yourselves.

Holy Flying Batmobile!

2009-06-04T06:40:00.000-07:00

Grant Morrison's Batman & Robin No. 1 turns out to be the perfect comic to banish "Battle for the Cowl's" bad aftertaste. The story quickly establishes that this Batman (Dick Grayson) and Robin (Damian Wayne) team will have a totally different dynamic than Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake. The villains are both comedic and horrifying, and the Batmobile flies! I know Frank Quitely's art is polarizing, but I thought some of his panels — especially the full page of Batman and Robin diving through the air — were downright breathtaking. Did I mention that the Batmobile flies?

After being reduced to a semi-wussy joy rider in "Cowl," Damian, the alleged result of a Talia-Bruce hookup, is back to being an arrogant badass. He's rude to Alfred, whom he refers to as "Pennyworth." When Dick admits that being Batman is intimidating, Damian basically tells him to step aside if he's not up to it. Dude is 12 years old, tops. His altered Robin costume and Doc Marten-esque boots are dope as hell.

What I liked most about this book is the way it combined pure fun with some of the more macabre elements Batman books are known for. The balance was just about perfect, as was the overall introduction to this new series. It's that rare comic that made me impatient for the next installment.

New Favorite Thing: Ill Doctrine

2009-06-04T05:56:00.000-07:00

My friend T. alerted me to the presence of Jay Smooth's intelligent, enlightened hip-hop commentary last week, and I'm hooked. Jay's thoughts on the intersection of race and popular culture are particularly insightful, as shown in his his post on the Asher Roth "Nappy Headed Hoes" Twitter controversy. I also enjoyed his video chat with Dan Charnas, another person steeped in hip-hop culture who happens to be white. The topic: hip-hop and racial humility vs. entitlement. People are often defensive or dismissive when talking about race, which is what makes this so refreshing.

The Princess And The Peeved

2009-06-03T13:01:00.000-07:00

So far this week, I’ve read two essays about America’s princess problem. They aren’t the first I’ve read on the subject, but this piece at The Root is the only one I’ve seen from an African-American perspective. Disney is debuting its first black princess, Tiana, via “The Princess and the Frog” later this year.

Like any good feminist raising a daughter, I’ve noticed that the princess culture, popularized by Disney, is absolutely everywhere — and it’s annoying. A few weeks ago, I took C. to a full-on princess birthday party and nearly went blind from the room full of sequins, sparkles and bright pink flotsam and jetsam. Nails were painted and dusted with glitter. Feather boas and satin slippers were donned. PrincessMania ’09 wouldn’t have been my choice for a party theme, but C. and the rest of the guests had fun.

Of course, I’d love for film studios to make more animated features about spirited girls who don’t wear ball gowns. It was a little depressing to see intrepid tomboy Dora the Explorer get the princess treatment a few years ago. And yet, I can’t work up a lot of outrage over the unveiling of the unveiling of another princess movie. As I’ve said previously, it’s a big deal for black girls to see themselves in the Disney tiara for once. Adults can have valid debates about vapid, man-dependent representations of women, but from where I’m sitting, black females haven’t exactly had the luxury of being stereotyped as fair damsels in distress (See: “Snow White”).

Besides, if you’re a 5-year-old girl, chances are that you like slightly tacky things that sparkle. This is the age when kids are acutely aware of gender differences, and some of them embrace the most obvious symbols of those differences — like princesses — with a vengeance. It would be nice if popular culture would help us out, but it’s up to parents to teach our children to get past that — and that it’s more important to be competent, confident and kind-hearted than to look like Sleeping Beauty (or Zac Efron). I’m much more worried about the bullshit yet to come, like when she turns 10 and hears her friends talking about going on diets and wearing whatever junior trollop gear the stores are peddling.

I’d prefer it if my daughter didn’t like pink quite so much, but that’s more my problem than hers. She loves her some Cinderella and Belle, sure, but she also swims and does gymnastics. She digs Wonder Woman and Supergirl — her costumes of choice the past two Halloweens — and she is far more self-assured than I was at twice her age. I seriously doubt she’s growing up with the idea that sitting around looking pretty adds up to a meaningful life.

My daughter has plenty of time to learn that being a princess is a fantasy that has little to do with being a woman. For now, I'm OK with her enjoying the sparkle.

That Glass-Shattering Sound You Hear Is Me Shrieking Like A Little Girl

2009-06-01T16:03:00.000-07:00

Zachary Quinto + Dairy = OMG

2009-06-01T12:20:00.000-07:00

I don't know if this is some kind of super-hot advertising campaign from the Dairy Farmers of America, but I like it.

How About We See The Movie First?

2009-06-01T10:13:00.000-07:00

When we took the kids to see "Up" this weekend, we got a look at the trailer for Disney's upcoming animated film, "The Princess and the Frog." This is a big deal, because the movie features Disney's first African-American princess, Tiana. Having grown up in the Obama era, my children have no idea how significant this is. But I couldn't help sneaking glances at my 4-year-old daughter C. to gauge her reaction. She didn't say anything about the princess being "brown" — her term for herself — but she was clearly stoked. C. is all about the princesses.

Old Disney movies, products of their time, have had some howlingly racist moments in them. But the company isn't stupid, and it wants Tiana & Co. to make lots and lots of money. Think of the dollars to be made in merchandising alone. Disney needs black parents and their daughters to like "The Princess and the Frog."

That's why I'm a little annoyed that people are already branding the movie racially insensitive (See the New York Times story here.) Critics say it's wrong to set the fairy tale in New Orleans because of the Katrina tragedy and — Jesus Christ — that the prince is too light-skinned. Seriously.

True, the prince isn't easily racially identifiable, as he has straight hair and tan skin. But that makes sense, given that New Orleans has long been a multicultural city. And so what if he's not black? I hate to invoke Barack Obama (again), but given that our president has a white mom and an African dad, isn't a bit silly to demand that the prince look a certain way? To be perfectly honest, it's more important that Tiana herself has clearly African-American features and dark brown skin. The female beauty standard in this country still skews Caucasian, so when the person wearing the tiara doesn't, it matters. The powers at Disney (or at least their consultants) seem to understand this.

More to the point, I wish people would wait to see a movie before condemning it or accusing it of all kinds of offenses. Maybe the movie will make me cringe in horror when I see it, or maybe it'll just suck. Until then, I'm going to assume that Disney wants Tiana to take up residence in my home alongside High School Musical and Phineas and Ferb.

Archie, You Moron

2009-05-28T08:35:00.000-07:00

Many moons ago, I owned a "Little Archie" digest that featured a familiar story: Betty lobbies for Archie's affections, and he reacts like a jerk. Because Archie didn't want to walk Betty home from school, he took her through a muddy, meandering route that ruined her outfit and hair. Veronica, in typical mean girl fashion, laughed at Betty when the pair arrived at the Choklit Shoppe.

Archie felt so bad that he offered to walk Betty to school properly the next day, and he even gave her a lock of his hair. However, I was disappointed that Betty let him off the hook so easily and continued to carry a torch for him. I also never completely forgave Archie for being such an asshole, which is probably something to be discussed with a therapist.

Now, there's proof that Archie is an idiot in matters of the heart: CNN reports that Archie will pop the question to Veronica — Veronica! — in a special 32-page issue. The comic will explore the post-college lives of the Riverdale gang, and it's clear from her blog that Betty is heartbroken.

I get that Veronica's wealth, sophistication and overall hotness would be alluring to a 17-year-old boy. But Betty is just as pretty, and I don't recall her once berating Archie for running out of money, driving a piece of shit vehicle or not catering to her every whim. Besides, Archie isn't exactly a Mensa member, so unless his music career takes off, how does he expect to keep Veronica in Gucci and Tiffany? He'll be singing a different tune when he's filing for bankruptcy at 28.

Here's how I'd write that script: Reggie gets his act together, becomes a nice guy (with an edge) and sweeps dear Betty off of her feet. For all his issues, Reggie has always been sexier, funnier and more ambitious than his red-haired nemesis. Living happily ever after with Reggie would be sweet, sweet revenge for Betty Cooper. Archie would be doomed to a life of regret and sending Betty sad e-mails.

I have a theory about why Betty, Veronica and bodacious troublemaker Cheryl Blossom have been fighting over Archie all these years, but I've already said too much.

Fingers Crossed For "Glee"

2009-05-21T13:21:00.000-07:00

As someone who has a habit of liking critically-acclaimed shows that get canceled, I'm wary of getting too attached to "Glee." It's a funny, quirky show about geeks, one that assumes (correctly) that high school mostly blows. And when has that ever panned out?

But if the pilot episode is indicative of what's to come, I hope "Glee" makes it. Maybe it doesn't achieve the greatness of "Freaks and Geeks," but it's got loads of potential.

When a high school glee club loses its director in a scandal, teacher Will Schuester (Matthew Morrison) steps in to keep it going and to reconnect with his passion for song. But even the principal thinks glee club is for losers, refusing to pony up the $40 a month required to run it. But Schuester isn't dissuaded, and once word gets out, the school's aspiring songbirds come forward.

These kids are my people — ambitious nerds who have that "One day you losers will know how awesome I am" gleam in their eye. Rachel (Lea Michele), who is talented but delusional, uploads new performance video daily on her MySpace page. Diva-in-training Mercedes (Amber Riley) declares that she shouldn't be singing backup because "I'm Beyonce, not Kelly Rowland." The only member with any social standing is quarterback Finn (Cory Monteith), a Troy Bolton type who wants to throw footballs and sing show tunes.

But my favorite glee club member, by far, is Kurt (Chris Colfer), who is clearly a friend of Dorothy. He begs the jocks to remove his Marc Jacobs jacket before they toss him into the dumpster, and when he belts out "Cellophane Man" during his audition, he does so with a hand on his hip and an I-do-this-in-my-sleep stroke of his bangs.

Perhaps best of all, "Glee" has the wonderful Jane Lynch, playing a ball-busting cheerleading coach who sees the new club as a threat. No one delivers a put-down quite like Lynch, who, upon seeing one of her cheerleaders flub a move, says, "You think this is hard? Being water-boarded is hard."

My only quibble is that Schuester's Pottery Barn-obsessed wife is a shade too unlikable to be believed. Otherwise, "Glee" has captured my attention in a way network television hasn't for years. When it returns in the fall, I'll be there with my jazz hands ready.

Oranges Need To Get Over Themselves

2009-05-20T18:05:00.000-07:00

With apologies to the genius blog that is F*ck You, Penguin

I'm over you, orange. You're clinging to your glory days as Florida's official fruit and a semi-exotic foodstuff, but I know what you really are. Common. Cheap. At $1.99 a bag, you aren't fooling anyone.

So the fact that you're so freaking difficult to peel pisses me off. Do you think playing hard to get makes me value you more highly? Look, you're just the pit stop between breakfast and lunch, not some carefully considered purchase from the farmer's market or New Leaf. You're not even organic.

I only bought you because I got bored with apples and grapes, and tangerines weren't available. Tangerines are sweet and easy. They don't put on airs or act like they're too good to be sectioned. You, on the other hand, expect to be labored over and earned. Please. You're not a lychee.

If you think I'm going to waste my time delicately peeling away your layers of so-called complexity, you are sadly mistaken. Say hello to my little friend the sharp knife.

Jerk.

I Knew Craig Ferguson Was Awesome ...

2009-05-20T07:00:00.000-07:00

But not THIS awesome!

Following Darth

2009-05-19T12:11:00.000-07:00

Among the many things that sucked about the "Star Wars" prequels was George Lucas' explanation for Darth Vader's evil. The idea is that Anakin's losses (his mom, his babies' mama) combined with his anger led him to become his galaxy's Josef Stalin.

That seemed kinda lame. I think evil is more disturbing when its reason for being is essentially unknowable. It challenges our hope that human beings are basically good unless circumstances damage them in some way. Learning that Vader was once a whiny teenager with girl problems takes away from the mystery and the menace. Why does fantasy need a backstory anyway?

Someone on Twitter clearly shares my preference for the iron-fisted James Earl Jones model, and I am hooked. Among the many highlights of "Darth Vader's" tweets:

Mad Sith props to Dick Cheney for his recent whirl-wind media tour. I gain 100+ followers every time he opens his evil maw.

I am altering the oatmeal. Pray I don't alter it further.

Just be glad I don't celebrate Earth Day the way I celebrated Alderaan Day.

If you're stinging from the BSG spoilers on Twitter, maybe this will take some of the edge off — I am Luke's father.

Tony Danza is not the boss. I am.

Genius. To follow Darth — and you will if you know what's good for you — click here.

Dick Grayson: An Appreciation (Of Sorts)

2009-05-18T12:26:00.000-07:00

I know Dick Grayson isn't real and that if he were, he'd be plenty legal by now. But it used to make me feel a tad queasy whenever comics made reference to Grayson's (aka Nightwing) hotness or sex life. I mentioned this to my friend Shag a year or two ago, because I was beginning to get the feeling that Nightwing had either hooked up with every young woman in the D.C. universe or figured prominently in their fantasies. His reply was along the lines of, "Heck, yes. This is why he is a hero among male D.C. readers."

Grayson hasn't been Batman's teen sidekick for years, but being confronted with this is a little like running into the kid you used to babysit and realizing that he's not only a college senior but also incredibly good-looking. And ripped. It seems wrong, if not illegal, to notice.

Oh, well. Artist Nicola Stewart kicked that door down with a fabulously glute-tastic panel of Nightwing in the latest issue of "Secret Six." Dang. I guess fighting crime with circus-honed acrobatics is a hell of a workout. My friend V. confessed that she stared at that particular panel for 10 minutes. A Facebook friend, also female, virtually high-fived my mention of this particular rendering.

I am now of the opinion that Stewart should draw Nightwing, like, all the time.

I Have A Bad Feeling About This

2009-05-14T12:24:00.001-07:00

My husband claims that I'm a movie snob, but I really don't know enough about film to qualify for the label. While my tastes tend to skew Miracle 5, I will not turn down a well-executed blockbuster or mainstream movie. Plus, I own "Twilight," so that's a blow to my credibility right there.

However, there are certain kinds of movies that I almost always refuse to see. Anything overly earnest that beats me over the head with "uplift" is a non-starter. But even worse are movies whose promotional posters might as well say, "You're a chick, so you'll like this." I might make an exception if I really like the actress (Isla Fisher's "Confessions of a Shopaholic" comes to mind), but not even Ann Hathaway could persuade me to see "Bridal Wars." Kate Hudson was in it, and she seems to specialize in the kind of films I'm allergic to.

Which brings me to "My Life in Ruins," a rom-com starring Nia Vardalos of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" fame (Never saw it). My friend M. sent me a link to the trailer with the note, "I dare you not to throw up." Wow. It's like someone put "How Stella Got Her Groove Back," "Under the Tuscan Sun" and "Hope Floats" in a blender and added an extra helping of cliches. I knew it was headed downhill when Vardalos' wacky heroine revealed, "I came (to Greece) to reconnect with my soul. Find my mojo." For real?

By the time the trailer faded out to the strains of Natasha Bedingfield's "Pocket Full of Sunshine," I did feel a little queasy. But this movie will probably make gobs of money, so what do I know?

Messed Up Video Of The Week

2009-05-13T17:46:00.000-07:00

I'd forgotten about onetime Chuck E. Cheese's competitor Showtime Pizza Place until my friend H. shared this video on Facebook. Animatronic bears singing Usher's "Love In This Club?" I dare you to look away.

Those Were Your Hubcaps, Batman?

2009-05-13T10:42:00.001-07:00

My friend R. took this photo during the Children's Week activities at the Capitol, and I've been meaning to post it. I can't see the looks on the kids' faces, but that is one intimidating Batman.

Why "Star Trek" Rocks

2009-05-12T07:24:00.000-07:00

Not that the world needs another glowing "Star Trek" review, but the last time I saw this level of excitement about a movie was when "Watchmen" came out few months ago. And that's probably not a fair comparison because a) "Watchmen" isn't as widely recognizable as "Star Trek" and b) audience and critic reaction to "Watchmen" was mixed at best. So far, I've only talked to one person who disliked "Star Trek," and many people — sci fi geeks or not — plan to see it again when it hits the IMAX. People are even going to Burger King just to buy themed drinking glasses! (OK, maybe that's just me.)

Here are my thoughts (WITH SPOILERS) on what made the movie work so well.

1. The story: Sometimes, simple is best. There were no painfully long scenes focused on intergalactic diplomacy and trade federations. Instead, "Star Trek" offered classic redemption/revenge plotlines, witty dialogue and big, shiny things exploding. You know the CGI is good when it never occurs to you that CGI is being employed. And a major high-five for the element of surprise: Spock and Uhura? Didn't see that coming!

2. The supporting cast: Beyond Kirk and Spock, I don't know a whole lot about how the members of the Starship Enterprise are "supposed" to act. But I know a good supporting cast when I see one, and this is it. As Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Karl Urban is grumpy, put upon and very funny. Anton Yelchin is a cuddly, English-mangling Chekov. If there's a more fetching young actress than Zoe Saldana (Uhura), I've yet to see her. Casting Simon Pegg as Scotty was a stroke of genius, and even in a small role, John Cho as Sulu literally kicks ass.

3. Zachary Quinto: I'm running out of adjectives to describe how good Quinto is as the iconic Spock. This is no surprise to people who watched the first season of "Heroes," but I didn't expect him to so thoroughly own the part — even with the venerable Leonard Nimoy in the film. He's kind of a dick in the beginning — the smug prodigy who is never, ever wrong. And I really liked the idea that, as a half-human, Spock's unusual self-control is more of a choice than a biological given. That makes the moments when he's clearly struggling to remain logical much more interesting.

4. Chris Pine: I've never seen Pine in anything, so I had no expectations for his take on James Kirk. The reckless womanizer who doesn't play by the rules is a total cliche, but the likable Pine portrays Kirk with just the right balance of humor and bravado. He's a frat boy to root for, and he never takes the joke too far.

5. Little Spock going all Ron Artest on his tormentors: I don't know how they do it on Vulcan, but on Earth, talking about somebody's mama is asking for punch in the mouth. Played by Jacob Kogan, child Spock metes out some harsh punishment when a peer calls his human mother (played by Winona Ryder!) a whore. I mean, he beats that kid down, and totally without warning. This is the first hint of the rebooted character's inner conflict, and it's a doozy. Best line: "I trust you have prepared new insults for today."

6. Leonard Nimoy: His appearance as an alternate-reality Spock is great because ... just because. It's freakin' Leonard Nimoy. That's enough.

Spock Envy

2009-05-08T19:25:00.000-07:00

Watching the excellent new "Star Trek" film, I couldn't help but think of the "Star Wars" prequels and what might have been. Here was a franchise update that was thrilling, funny and even a little sexy. It paid respect to its source material without being enslaved by it. But most importantly, "Star Trek" was fun to watch, unlike the turgid "Star Wars" Episodes I-III. I don't know what die-hard Trekkers think, but as a "Star Wars" loyalist who was always indifferent to their corner of the sci-fi universe, I am so ready for a sequel.

Right Under My Own Roof

2009-05-07T06:24:00.000-07:00

I knew these dolls would be trouble when my daughter got them for Christmas. Troy and Gabriella, we have these things called rules in our house. What do you have to say for yourselves? And don't tell me, "It's not what it looks like," because I wasn't born yesterday.

I Give Up

2009-05-06T14:05:00.000-07:00

To my so-called friends who encouraged me to watch "Twilight:"

I hate all of you.

You sat back as I made joke after joke about the cheesy dialogue, swooning and sparkling ... and you waited. You knew that my smugness would be no match for Robert Pattinson's perfectly tousled hair and model's cheekbones. Even as I was spitting out my Diet Coke at some of the lines and special effects, it was too late. I was all, "Bwaha! This is so effing ridiculous." Days later, I was all, "Well, that Cullen character was kinda cute. Really cute. Hm. Actually, he is totally striking. What genius casting! I, um ... dammit!"

He's dreamy — OK? I know when I've been beaten.

But I will not, under any circumstances, read "New Moon."

I won't!

Geeks In Crisis

2009-05-05T10:44:00.000-07:00

Trekkies Bash New Star Trek Film As 'Fun, Watchable'
Hahahahahahahahaha!

Snap Judgment: "JONAS"

2009-05-04T11:38:00.000-07:00

When I was around 7 years old, I fell in love with re-runs of "The Monkees," which, in my opinion, never got the respect it deserved. Everyone gets hung up on the prefab band thing (they did eventually play their own instruments) and overlooked the show's pioneering wackiness. Certain friends of mine know that my affection for this show and the band members lasted well into my teen years. (Peter Tork, if you're reading this, you were always my favorite.)

So when reviewers compared the Jonas Brothers' newest vehicle for world domination, "JONAS," to "The Monkees," I was skeptical. Successfully combining comedy with music is harder than it looks, and I was prepared for this show to be about as entertaining as a marathon of "Wizards of Waverly Place." But just as I once underestimated their musical chops, I didn't give the Jonas Brothers enough credit in the humor department. The show is effortlessly likable, and there's a self-deprecating undertone to it.

The singers play slightly altered versions themselves, only they're rock stars who attend high school. The first episode would have us believe that Nick, the "serious" one, is always getting his heart broken. Right. Anyway, there is a genuinely funny song sequence involving a very awkward set of angel wings. Just when you think the show is going down Teen Cliche Avenue, it veers in the other direction. Apparently, one of the "JONAS" directors worked on the short-lived but innovative '90s show "Parker Lewis Can't Lose," and a similar zany spirit pervades this show. I could do without the hyperventilating fan character, but my children thought her scenery gnawing was hilarious.

Let's face it; the people watching this show are the trio's rabid kid-to-tween fans and any parent who happens to be in the room. Those convinced that the band epitomizes The Problem With Youth Today won't be converted, but I was surprised by how much I enjoyed "JONAS." I wouldn't put down a good book to tune in, but if I'm just folding laundry while the kids are watching it, sure. Unlike "Hannah Montana," it didn't make me want to flee.

Late Observations: "Twilight"

2009-05-04T08:12:00.000-07:00

I tried to finish the first "Twilight" book. I really did. But after the author reminded me for the 798th time of how gorgeous, perfect and Adonis-like vampire Edward Cullen was, something inside me broke. So I passed the book along to a friend's 10-year-old daughter, who has since devoured it and moved on to "New Moon." I'm always happy to support literacy.

I still find "Twilight" fascinating as a cultural phenomenon, which is why I watched the movie over the weekend. If I were a 13-year-old girl, I would be all over this. My walls would be plastered with pictures of adorable Robert Pattinson, and I'd be arguing over minor plot points with my fellow fangirls. That's because "Twilight" hits the bulls-eye of young teens girls' fantasies: that a beautiful, soulful and vaguely dangerous boy is obsessed with you, and only you, and that the two of you will co-exist in a bubble of melodrama and sexual tension ... without having sex.

Pattinson was a great pick for the role of Edward, one of the pasty/intense Cullen vampire kids who keep to themselves at Forks High School. As Bella, Kristen Stewart makes the character much more appealing than she is in the book. Of course, that may be because the movie doesn't allow for the nonstop newscrawl of Bella's internal dialogue. Stewart is part of a long tradition of "ordinary" female characters being played by very attractive actresses.

Like the book, the movie version of "Twilight" never really explains why Edward is so smitten with Bella, other than the unique scent of her blood. But the two actors do have good chemistry, which might explain why their off-set relationship is on the cover of all the gossip rags. And maybe I just noticed this because I'm old, but I thought it was neat that the supporting cast was so diverse. Black vampires? Who knew?! I remember when you could watch a teen film from start to finish and see nary a person of color. (And no, I'm not counting Long Duc Dong from "Sixteen Candles.")

Granted, I laughed out loud a few times, like when Edward informed Bella, "I don't have the strength to stay away from you anymore." The whole sparkling-in-the-sunlight business made me giggle, too, but I realize I'm not the target audience. (Or am I? There seem to be an awful lot of women my age buying the books and swooning over Edward. That's .. interesting?) I'm not hating, though. Overall, "Twilight" is a perfectly serviceable movie that's worth a Neflix rental. On with the sequel.

The End of Batman's Long, Strange Trip

2009-04-30T13:20:00.001-07:00

There's probably no way Neil Gaiman and Andy Kubert could have topped the first installment of "Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader," which was one of the best single-issue comics I've read this year. But while part two isn't as original as the first, it's still quite good.

We all know Batman's departure from the DC Universe is temporary; yet, Gaiman has managed to craft a story full of melancholy and meaning. In fact, his contribution is the only part of the "Batman's Dead" storyline that hasn't come off like a cheap stunt. Most of part two is a conversation between Bruce Wayne — who isn't sure that he's dead — and his late mother. (I'd be perfectly happy if I never saw another panel of young Bruce kneeling beside his murdered parents' bodies, but I'll let this one slide.) The tenderness of the dialogue between Bruce and his mother really affected me, though I wish he hadn't been in costume the entire time. Then again, Batman is no longer Bruce Wayne's alter ego. It's who he is. Maybe I've gone soft, but the ending, combined with some "Goodnight, Moon" moments, gave me the sniffles.

I think this a comic that readers will either love or loathe. The storytelling devices are well-worn, and there are no big surprises. Batman never gave up his lonely fight, and then, eventually, he died. That's it. It's just a quiet, heartfelt ending that isn't really the end.

Train-Wreck TV: "Toddlers and Tiaras"

2009-04-28T07:48:00.000-07:00

Were she alive today, child pageant queen JonBenet Ramsey would be 18 years old. When she was murdered in 1996, the public was inundated with child pageant footage, which elicited a mass "What the !$#@?" JonBenet was a lovely kid, but the sight of her in heavy makeup and sequins always made my skin crawl, particularly after learning the particulars of her death. Inevitably, people in the "pageant community" felt that the press had given them a raw deal, as if it were perfectly normal to spackle a 6-year-old's face with foundation and blush and trot her out for judging.

More than a decade later, the world of child beauty pageants continues to fascinate/appall outsiders. And as TLC's "Toddlers and Tiaras" series proves, it makes for compelling, train-wreck TV viewing. We just got On Demand service, and against my better judgment, I watched two episodes of "TnT" over the weekend.

The show is pretty straightforward, with each episode focusing on a handful of pageant hopefuls with various levels of experience. What struck me immediately was that, in many cases, you can tell the parents don't have much money — yet, they're spending hundreds upon hundreds of dollars for their kids' highlights, spray-on tans, fake nails, hair extensions and God knows what else. And despite the shameless, relentless focus on their daughters' appearance and poise, many of the moms have let themselves go to hell. Whenever the dads are on camera, they seem vaguely mystified and resigned. They're proud of their little girls, but their wives are running the show. (I admit that there was one sweet moment when a girl's grandfather, a retired coal miner, helped her practice her "prissy" walk across the living room floor.)

As for the girls themselves, it's hard to tell what they think about being on the pageant circuit. Sure, it's fun to play dress up, win ribbons and have strangers tell you how pretty you are, but it seems like they'd be just as happy playing jump rope. I'm convinced that they'd be so much better off playing a sport than skipping across a stage in "casual wear." Maybe they're taking soccer lessons, too, but I'm skeptical.

At one point, my son took a break from saving the universe to see what I was looking at. When a girl who looked to be about four (his sister's age) began shimmying in a yellow, ruffled bikini, he put on his Serious Face and said, "Whoa, that is SO inappropriate!"

I don't have a problem with TLC for airing the show. Frankly, the child beauty pageant is an interesting, if bizarre, part of American culture, and the show is ripe for water-cooler analysis: Are pageants a harmless, fun way for girls to build their self confidence or an early, creepy introduction to sexual objectification? I know which one I'm going with.

Kids Make Music — And My Day

2009-04-27T10:47:00.000-07:00

This video really delighted me, and not just because of the song these kids are singing. I love to see children making music, which was such a huge part of my upbringing. I think I'd be a very different person if I hadn't been surrounded by music as a child and encouraged to play an instrument. When my own children connect the musical dots — like the time my son, then 5 or 6, picked up on the similarity between the sound of the early Kinks and the Beatles — it makes my day. Thanks to my friend C. for sending this!

Art I Can Believe In

2009-04-27T07:20:00.000-07:00

I just discovered artist Brandon Bird's Web site, which is filled to the brim with win. Rod Stewart in a Stormtrooper costume! An abstract portrait of the "Family Ties" cast! Spider-Man and J. Jonah Jameson having a pillow fight! John Tesh! Where has Bird been all my life?

Now if only I can convince my husband that a painting of Jabba the Hutt in the desert would look great in the foyer.

Couple Of The Month: Ice-T and Coco

2009-04-22T13:53:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while, Americans fall in love with a couple that reflects our most deeply held beliefs about love, partnership and family.

Of course, I'm referring to Ice-T and Coco!

You know how you sometimes have an irrational fondness for random celebrities? I don't know what it is about these two, but the sight of the old-school rapper with his bombshell wife always makes me smile. Unlike the significant others of many rappers, Coco does not go quietly. In fact, she's the main attraction when the cameras start flashing. And Ice-T, secure in his status as a rap pioneer, seems OK with that. He's like, "Look, I've had my moment. I understand that it's all about my lady and her epic assets. Don't hate, fellas. Appreciate."

I was so jealous when my friend V. told me that she once had the pleasure of meeting Lady Coco, who is reportedly "bad as f*ck." She's like a (somewhat enhanced) Barbie doll come to life. If Mattel put a Coco doll on the market tomorrow, I would totally buy it and dress it up in crazy outfits. Coco in pink boots! Coco in leopard-print leather! Coco in a thong bikini! She would crush the Bratz under the heel of her mighty stiletto.

Who needs the A list when you've got that kind of swagger? Don't hate! Appreciate.

Random '80s Video Of The Week: "Kiss And Tell"

2009-04-18T18:14:00.000-07:00

As I've mentioned before, one of my favorite things to do is to screen random '80s music videos for my children, ages 9 and 4. The vast majority of the time, the reaction is somewhere between baffled and wildly amused. They're used to slickly-produced musical entertainment, so the sheer goofiness of the videos I grew up on stumps them: "Why is a horse walking on stage? Wait ... what's up with him throwing paint on that girl? And is he wearing lip gloss?"

In many cases, the song is 100 times better than the video. Example A is Bryan Ferry's "Kiss and Tell," a terrific dance tune. What strikes me about this video is how Ferry looks like an accountant who wandered into a strip club on karaoke night. He's a little weary after a long day with his Excel spreadsheets, but still game for some twitchy dance action.

Pop Culture Geek Moment: I thought of this song after reading an Entertainment Weekly blurb about a possible remake of "Bright Lights, Big City." Of course, "Kiss and Tell" was on the soundtrack of the original film adaptation of Jay McInerney's novel of the same name.

(Really) Big Love: "Shattered Dreams"

2009-04-17T09:02:00.000-07:00

Our book club is preparing to discuss former polygamist wife Irene Spencer's "Shattered Dreams," and for the first time in forever, everyone has read the whole thing. I gotta give it up to my fellow club member, B., for suggesting the book. It's addictive — equal parts legitimately thought-provoking and tawdry.

I love learning about fringe cultures, and the world of polygamy certainly qualifies. Spencer, who was raised a fundamentalist Mormon, was the second of her husband's 10 wives, and she gave birth to 13 of his children before she was 35 years old. That would be wacky enough, but Spencer and her fellow sister-wives lived miserable, destitute existences in Central America, struggling to feed all their children and maintain their sanity. As a reader, I was torn between feeling great sympathy for Spencer and wondering when she was finally going to wise the &@#* up and leave her clueless husband, Verlan.

Verlan doesn't come across as a bad guy so much as dim and insensitive. It's clear that his wives' happiness is not his first priority, and though he appears to care about his kids, he can't possibly be present for all of them, let alone provide an acceptable quality of life. He's often away working in the states while his brood lives without running water, electricity, enough food or basic health care. The book is full of WTF moments, like Verlan praying before sex because he believes getting it on for reasons other than procreation — with your own spouse — is sinful. One night during a move, Irene and a dozen of her children have to crowd into the cab of a broken-down truck during a thunderstorm. When she begs for permission to have (finally) her tubes tied, Verlan spins some nonsense about how doing so would prevent or "trap" unborn souls from entering the kingdom.

The book's title really ought to be "Why Fundamentalism is Ridiculous." Whenever Irene questions the rules, she is simply chastised for putting her soul in jeopardy or not having enough faith to adhere to God's teachings. Never mind that polygamy is a bum rap for women or that having multiple children you can't afford to support is irresponsible at best. This sect is told constantly that if people fail at polygamy, they are the problem.

I'm really looking forward to the discussion next week, and reading "Shattered Dreams" makes me want to learn more about the history of polygamy in America and where it stands today. Oh, and I've gotta rent "Big Love" now.

Sedaris Rocks

2009-04-17T06:16:00.000-07:00

At the risk of gushing, I have to say that David Sedaris really is one of the funniest men on the planet. He's also incredibly charming, pocket-sized and quirky, and he seems to genuinely enjoy interacting with his readers. While signing my copy of "Always Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim," we chatted about Valdosta (my hometown) and the sad quality of outlet malls. He gave the young lady in front of my one of his travel-sized bottles of hand lotion.

I can't believe I missed this, but a friend who was with him in the elevator said that after some heavily primped, busty sorority girls exited, Sedaris quipped: "Are they prostitutes?"

As far as his reading went, the guy killed. One of the more memorable moments was Sedaris' description of American air travelers who don't seem to give a damn: "It's as if someone had been scrubbing shoe polish off a pig, then said, 'Fuck this. I'm going to Los Angeles.' " He discussed a news story about owls that had been trained to fly across the room at weddings, land on the groom's gloved arm and deliver the rings: "For the first time, I wanted to get married for all the right reasons." I'm still giggling at his rebuke of his partner, Hugh, for referring to some food-poaching pigeons as "assholes."

Unlike Junot Diaz, Sedaris seemed happy to be at FSU and answered a LOT of questions. Afterward, he signed more books and encouraged the audience to stick around and ask some more questions. "I've heard people say, 'I was afraid to ask you a question because I thought you might be mean to me.' Why would I be mean to you? I mean, I could see if Dick Cheney was doing a book reading."

Judging Books By Their Covers

2009-04-16T07:08:00.000-07:00

I was as touched as anyone by the footage of 47-year-old Susan Boyle slaying the "Britain's Got Talent" crowd with her performance
of "I Dreamed a Dream." It was a great television moment.

But here's what's been bugging me: Why were the judges so flipping astonished that she could sing? Could it be because she's middle-aged and not gorgeous? I understand that people are judged by their looks, especially in the entertainment industry. There's a reason Steve Buscemi didn't have Tom Cruise's career, even though Buscemi is a much (much) better actor. (This can cut both ways: "Oh look; the beautiful woman isn't an empty suit/moron/bimbo!") But it's not like Boyle was auditioning for "Make Me a Supermodel." She didn't even show up dressed like a circus performer, unlike some of the lost souls who audition for "American Idol." If a person can talk, there's a chance s/he might have a decent singing voice.

Unfortunately, human beings have a way of assigning qualities to others based on how they look. Studies have shown that attractive kids receive better treatment, not only from their peers (duh), but also from their teachers. If Boyle had looked like Jessica Alba, you can't tell me that the audience wouldn't have given her the benefit of the doubt instead of openly tittering and assuming she'd suck.

Don't get me wrong; it's nice to see the underdog win. I just wish people would stop reacting to Boyle's performance as if a donkey with two limbs won the Kentucky Derby.

Encounters With Famous People

2009-04-15T11:22:00.000-07:00

I may have mentioned that I'm going to see David Sedaris tomorrow.

A friend and fellow ticket-holder admitted that she tends to lose her cool when in the presence of well-known people she admires. While I've never had a Chris-Farley-interviews-Paul-McCartney moment, I understand how they happen. You tell yourself you're going to play it cool and aloof, and the next thing you know, you're thrusting your copy of "Naked" in Famous Writer's face and babbling: "Reading your books is like having coffee with a friend! I mean, we have so much in common. You grew up gay and weird in the South and I grew up black and weird in the South, and we both write — though you have an audience of millions and an NPR following. I love NPR! Remember that time you talked about being a Christmas elf? That was awesome!"

I actually have a running list of Famous People I Don't Want to Meet Because It Might Be Too Awkward. It's not that I think these people suck. It's either that the wrong kind of encounter with them would ruin my week, or that my ability to make sensible decisions would be at risk. Among them:

1. Paul McCartney: There is no way I would be able to form coherent sentences or carry on an intelligent conversation. Besides, does he really need to hear another person say that the Beatles changed their life/got them through a tough time/saved their marriage? I'm gonna go with no.

2. Sting: Sting gets a lot of flak for his lyrics and Sting-ness, and much of it is justified. I'm not going to defend the lute. But at 50-plus, the guy remains smoking hot. I've seen him in concert several times, and those guns do not come courtesy of Photoshop. Nothing good could come of meeting him. (Also see: Jackman, Hugh.)

3. Chris Martin: I've always heard that Gwyneth's husband is much nicer and more unassuming than you'd expect a big rock star to be. It must be true, because he was sweet to Miley Cyrus. But everyone has bad days, and I like Coldplay's music too much to risk meeting him under those circumstances. (Insert your own Coldplay-bashing joke here.)

4. Angelina Jolie: First, she might try to take one of my children. Second, her mojo is too dangerous and unpredictable. I had a major girl-crush on her before she went public about the man-taking, so I'm in a vulnerable place.

5. Joe Jonas: My 4-year-old daughter loves the cutest Jonas Brother the way I once loved Leif Garrett, and she is convinced that they're getting married someday. So if he turned out to be a tool with no time for his preschool fan base, well, I'd have to beat him.

On a completely different note, I'm still grappling with the fact that Sedaris admitted embellishing some of his stories after The New Republic called him out. I wasn't crushed, because I always suspected that I was reading heightened nonfiction. However, I don't think there is too much legitimate wiggle room in the "true" category, even for humorists. A recap of the dustup is here.

When Stomachs Attack

2009-04-14T10:46:00.000-07:00

So after finally accepting that I have to exercise to keep expansion at bay, I recently asked one of my fittest friends to help me tweak my diet.

I thought I was doing pretty well until I tracked my food for two weeks and crunched the numbers. The truth was that my nutrition was so-so during the week, and occasionally terrible on the weekend. And after seeing my metabolism measurement in black-and-white (Surprise! It's slow!), it was crystal clear that exercise alone was not going to get me where I wanted to be.

Anyway, my friend H. graciously held my hand through the process of figuring out what and how much I should be eating. I don't tell H. anything diet or fitness related unless I plan to follow through, so once I asked for her help, I knew I was committing. My stomach, which called in a huff after my workout today, isn't taking it so well. The exchange went something like this.

Stomach: "Um, what are you doing?"

Me: "What do you mean?"

S: "You know what I'm talking about. Breakfast was some unsweetened oatmeal with cranberries, cinnamon and flax. Lunch was nothing but a big salad! Granted, there were some bells and whistles like feta cheese, strawberries and a little chicken, but that snack was bullshit. An apple and some string cheese?"

M: "Well, I'm trying to do things a little differently around here. We've probably gotten as far as we're going on exercise alone. It's time to shake up the program if we're going to make more progress."

S: "We? I wasn't consulted."

M: "Yeah. About that ..."

S: "Maybe I was happy with things the way they were. It's not like we were exactly getting fried fish and cheese grits down here on a regular basis. You already cut off the supply of sweet iced tea and flavored coffee drinks. Yeah, I noticed. Did you have to take my morning cheese toast away, too?"

M: "I know it sucks right now, but we'll get through this. I need you to understand: We're almost 40, and my metabolism was never that high to begin with. I want to be able to wear sleeveless dresses this summer, like Michelle Obama."

S: "Who?"

M: "OK, now you're just being ridiculous."

S: "Go screw yourself." (dial tone)

Sigh.

Troy's Back!

2009-04-14T07:35:00.000-07:00

Two facts: "Saturday Night Live" skits are wildly inconsistent and Zac Efron is so pretty and perfectly groomed that it borders on disturbing. In spite of those things, this gentle swipe at the "High School Musical" franchise made me chuckle.

"Star Trek:" I'm Officially Excited

2009-04-13T13:10:00.000-07:00

I hope no one takes away my geek card for saying this, but "Star Trek" never quite captured my imagination. While I appreciated its impact on the sci-fi genre and its progressive view of humanity, I never became a big fan of the TV series, films or books.

However, I am all kinds of stoked about the new "Star Trek" film, which opens May 8. The fast-paced, whiz-bang trailers are pretty much perfect for a blockbuster popcorn movie. And since I'm not wed to the source material, there isn't nearly as much at stake for me as for my Trekker friends. I get to just sit back and watch stuff blow up without fretting about departures from the canon. The buzz has been good-to-great, and the cast members are cute as buttons. I predict there will be sequels and the usual complaints from my 9-year-old about how "all the good movies are PG-13."

Between this and "X-Men Origins: Wolverine," the month of May is looking fantastic.

"Battle for the Cowl" Defeats Me

2009-04-12T06:24:00.000-07:00

It's Easter, a day when many are reflecting on resurrection. Which brings me, of course, to Jason Todd.

I know I need to let this go, but I am so annoyed after reading the second installment of "Battle for the Cowl." Why am I still reading it? Because I am naive and like to give things the benefit of the doubt. I want to keep up with my favorite characters, even if they are trapped in an unworthy storyline. I want to believe D.C. has a perfectly good reason for bring Todd back from the grave.

So here we have my favorite Robin, Tim Drake, dressed like old-school Batman and battling my least favorite, Todd, who has declared himself the new, gun-toting Batman. Todd has shot Batman's son, Damian, who for some reason has morphed from the fearless, criminal-murdering badass of "Batman and Son" to a pesky, frightened kid. Drake beats Todd with a crowbar, a scene that attempts to echo those harrowing panels from "A Death in the Family". Sigh. In the end, Todd impales Drake with a batarang, a scene that attempts to echo those harrowing panels from "Identity Crisis." SIGH.

I know when I've been beaten, no pun intended. I have to accept that there will never be a reason good enough to justify Todd's return, and that it will always piss me off. I'm giving myself permission to ignore the final installment of this series and its counterparts. After all, Wikipedia is free, and the new "Batman and Robin" book will begin eventually.

Video of the Week: "White People Problems"

2009-04-10T06:14:00.000-07:00

Funny Videos | Funny Cartoons | More Video Clips

Racial humor can be tricky, but this video approaches the self-deprecating genius of Stuff White People Like. And though I am not, technically, white, there were several zingers here that hit close to home. Organic food for the kids? Check. Love of Apple and Trader Joe's? Check. Frequent consumer of lattes? Check. And, uh, I have tickets to see David Sedaris next week.

In my defense, I am a good dancer.

Cougarz?

2009-04-06T12:32:00.000-07:00

I was in Target last week when I came face-to-face with "Bratz Familiez (sic)" in the toy aisle. Now, you can buy a disturbingly tarted up child doll with her cougar mom in the same package. According to the product description, Yasmin and her mom Portia are "ready for a day of Bratz bonding." Slightly less creepy are Cloe and big sister Sonya, who is described as "a sassy brainiac." You can tell Sonya is smart because she wears glasses and comes with a miniature laptop.

You just can't make this stuff up.

Pinocchio: Scared Straight

2009-04-03T06:45:00.000-07:00

I hadn't seen Disney's "Pinocchio" in years, but I've never forgotten how much it freaked me out as a kid. Back then, I believed it was possible for toys to come to life and that they weren't always benevolent.

But I'm a sucker for the classics, so I bought the two-disc, 70th anniversary edition of "Pinocchio" and watched it with the family last night. I'm always astonished by how gorgeously animated those old Disney movies are, considering that they were done entirely by hand. For cinephiles, the new DVD is worth every penny.

However, "Pinocchio" ought to have the subtitle "Scared Straight," because it is one frightening movie. My children, having been raised in the don't-ever-talk-to-strangers era, were extremely frustrated with Pinocchio for letting Honest John chat him up and lure him to Stromboli's puppet theater. At one point, my son yelled at the TV, "Man, what is wrong with you?" I explained to him that Pinocchio wasn't all that bright, but he wasn't placated.

And what about the creepy bastard who rounds up "stupid little boys" and carts them off to "Pleasure Island?" The literal interpretation is horrifying enough ("I'm a donkey!"), but that subplot takes on a whole other meaning when you're watching it as an adult in 2009. I'd also forgotten that, after saving Gepetto from a raging whale, Pinocchio (temporarily) dies and is shown face-down in pool of water. Jesus. By the time the fairy showed up to turn him into a real boy, I was emotionally drained.

My friend M. pointed out that Disney is an expert at haunting people's dreams well into adulthood. There's that whole Bambi's-mom-dies scene, Cinderella getting locked in an attic, the eerily possessed sorcerer's brooms, Mufasa's death-by-trampling, and on and on and on. On the bright side, the temporary trauma might make a kid think twice about blowing off school or talking to cigar-smoking foxes. It's just a thought.

Welcome Back, Barry. I Guess.

2009-04-02T06:45:00.000-07:00

I wanted to be more excited about the return of Barry Allen, because a) he's an iconic character and b) it's a big deal when someone comes back from the dead 20 years later. That panel of him emerging from the Speed Force was one of the more thrilling panels in the "Final Crisis" series. It's an event, so to speak.

But I was never much of a Flash follower to begin with, and I have this crazy idea that the vast majority of characters, once killed off, should stay dead. Otherwise, death in comics is meaningless and stripped of its impact. That's why I can't take the deaths of Batman and Martian Manhunter seriously, because I know D.C. already has a plan to bring them back.

Nevertheless, I put my skepticism aside and parted with $3.99(!) for the first installment of Geoff Johns' "The Flash: Rebirth." The storyline is overwhelmingly OK, though Ethan Van Sciver's artwork is quite striking. Barry Allen is the least interesting thing about the comic, which isn't surprising considering his rap as one of the most boring characters in the DCU. The sequence of panels featuring Allen and Hall Jordan, another titan of boring, is unintentionally funny.

I generally enjoy Johns' work, but I haven't decided if I'm going to read the rest of this series. D.C. will be fine without my $3.99, but I feel like I'm only encouraging these cheap back-from-the-grave stunts by buying this stuff.

Over at Once Upon a Geek, my friend Shag revealed that Barry Allen is his Scott and Jean — a topic he can't discuss without going into a sputtering rage. Another is the also-resurrected Jason Todd, the Robin who famously bought the farm in 1988. Look, I read "A Death in the Family" back in the day, and that shit meant something. Tears were shed. The fact that Todd is now very much alive makes me completely crazy and irrational (It's my Scott and Jean!), so I should probably stop talking about it now.

As you were.

Twitter Police

2009-04-01T07:49:00.000-07:00

Since all the cool kids are tweeting now, I decided to test the waters. After all, I don't want to be in the same boat with anti-trend curmudgeons who think social networking is just a big identity theft scam.

But after a few weeks, I still don't quite get Twitter. I mean, I can see how it would be useful if you're a known personality or an up-and-comer trying to build an audience. One of my friends tweets regularly about fitness, and another friend with a newspaper column uses Twitter to connect with readers. That makes sense to me. Somehow, I can't imagine anyone wants to know that "I'm emptying the litterbox" or "looking for my daughter's other Hello Kitty sock." The team behind this hilarious Landline TV video clearly agrees.

Oh, Mighty Isis!

2009-03-30T11:59:00.001-07:00

One of the better parts of DC's "52" series was the tragic romance of Black Adam and Isis. It was a kick-ass storyline, but it also reminded me of a TV show I loved as a little kid: "The Secrets of Isis." It wasn't as iconic as the "Wonder Woman" series with Lynda Carter, but it definitely made an impression on me. It ran from 1975-77, around the same time that WW and "The Bionic Woman" were on the air. In those pre-"Buffy," pre-cable days, it was a very big deal to have shows about three strong, heroic women on the air at the same time — especially to a little girl having, shall we say, issues with playground assholes. (And yes, I seriously used to pretend to be Isis and say, "Oh zephyr winds that blow on high, lift me now so I can fly!")

I had no idea the show was on DVD, and I'd be curious to see how it holds up after 30 years. Probably not that well, but that doesn't make the show's existence any less awesome. Judge for yourself by watching a clip. Isis makes her appearance around the 1:17 mark.

Kiss Your Productivity Goodbye

2009-03-25T08:17:00.001-07:00

Ever wish all the LOL/weird/must-see Web videos were in one place for easy reference? Greg Rutter has done the heavy lifting for you with his Definitive List of The 99 Things You Should Have Already Experienced On The Internet Unless You're a Loser or Old or Something. I thought I'd seen everything, but I was wrong.

I recommend browsing this list after you're done with all your obligations for the day (like working), because you'll be screwed otherwise. Featured here is one of my favorites, "Asian Backstreet Boys." I can so see my son and his friends uploading some nonsense like this in a few years. They probably already have.

Major props to Rutter for this list and to my friend C. for telling me about it.

Top Rejected Management Book Titles

2009-03-24T13:55:00.000-07:00

Some friends and I came up with this list, which is becoming a bit of a living document on Facebook. Enjoy, and feel free to add your own!

1. The Lonely Tyrant's Handbook
2. It's Not Me; It's You: Leadership Without Self-Awareness
3. That Paper Isn't Going To Push Itself
4. Leadership and Deception: Your Guide to Both
5. I Rock; You Suck
6. The Power of Buzzwords: Making Gobbledygook Work for You
7. Getting to "Yes, Sir" Using Fear and Ridicule
8. The Tipping Point: Pushing Your Staff Over the Edge
9. Seven Habits of Highly Abusive Bosses
10. Talent is Overrated: Lucky for You
11. Teamwork is for Players, Not the Coach
12. The A**hole Monologues
13. Balance/Schmalance: Taking "Life" Out of the Work/Life Equation
14. The Audacity of Nope: Crushing Dreams, One "No" At a Time
15. I Hope My BlackBerry Works In Hell

I'm Just Saying ...

2009-03-20T06:40:00.000-07:00

For some reason, I've had the "list of famous women I might switch teams for" conversation several times in the last month. Many of my female friends have similar lists and will openly discuss them. My husband insists that this subject has never come up among his male friends. Ever.

"So, no one ever says something like, 'If I were attracted to men, I guess I'd go with Boris Kodjoe?' "

"Nope."

"But it's hypothetical."

"We just don't have those conversations."

Whatever. I had no trouble coming up with my top five, even after booting the once top-seeded Angelina Jolie for brazen man-poaching. In no particular order:

Salma Hayek: Owner of some of the most dangerous curves in Hollywood. She's also a smart woman and a budding entertainment powerhouse who is committed to helping mothers in developing nations. Plus, have you seen her?

Sanaa Lathan: A beautiful actress who is way underrated, in my opinion. If you haven't seen her movies "Out of Time," "Love & Basketball" or "Something New," you ought to.

Dame Helen Mirren: I suspected that 60-year-old Mirren was smokin' long before that "holy s***" bikini photo appeared. And, duh, she's a great actress. Regal, talented and British. That's enough for me.

Padma Lakshmi: Salman Rushdie's ex-boo is a food nerd, former model and host of Bravo's "Top Chef." I'm even gonna forgive her for that cameo in "Glitter" as a lip-syncing pop star named Sylk.

Cate Blanchett: As if Australia hadn't done enough by providing Hugh Jackman, it also came up with actress Cate Blanchett. Those cheekbones! She has such a powerful onscreen presence, even when she's playing an icky character like the student-diddling teacher in "Notes on a Scandal." I'm sure she has bad days like the rest of us, but I have yet to see the evidence.

Who's on your list?

Shirts for Geeks — And More

2009-03-19T13:52:00.001-07:00

I'm probably getting too old for subtly ironic/clever/geeky T-shirts, but *%$# it. If I have to be a responsible parent and taxpayer, no one's taking away my Barack Skywalker tee.

While there are many fine outlets selling this kind of apparel, one of the best I've seen is Red Bubble, which is sort of a cross between Etsy and Facebook. You can buy and sell artistic wares on Red Bubble, and you can interact with your favorite creators. For my money, the graphic artist-created T-shirts are the real stars of this site. Here are a few of my favorites:

Steampunk R2-D2 by Reece Ward

Who Is Watching by Warren Hart

Star Wars Coffee by rubyred (I love this guy's stuff and bought this one.)

The Sarcasm Foundation by digerati

How We Roll, That Is by James Lillis

There are many others, and I haven't even mentioned the many art prints. I'm not being paid to pimp Red Bubble. It's just cool to see independent, creative types flourishing in a lousy economy. Plus, I don't want to go broke alone.

One Artist: The Beatles

2009-03-18T06:06:00.000-07:00

Of all the meme items going around on Facebook, "One Artist" is the one I enjoyed the most. The idea is to pick a musician/band and answer questions about your life based on their songs. Of course, I chose the Beatles, my very favorite band. I never expect people to pay attention to these things, so I was surprised by how enthusiastically friends responded to my choices.

Are you male or female: Another Girl

Describe yourself: She's a Woman

How do you feel about yourself: Lady Madonna

Describe where you currently live: Blue Jay Way

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Strawberry Fields Forever

Your favorite color is: Baby’s in Black

You know that: You Never Give Me Your Money

What's the weather like: Good Day Sunshine

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey

What is life to you: Magical Mystery Tour

What is the best advice you have to give: Act Naturally

If you could change your name, what would it be: Lovely Rita

Your favorite food is: Wild Honey Pie

What do you believe in: Revolution

Favorite day of the week: Tomorrow Never Knows

What kind of person are you: Think for Yourself

What do you do for a living: Paperback Writer

Favorite hobby: I’m Happy Just to Dance With You

Describe your perfect date: See Above

Favorite Movie or TV Show: Julia

Caption This

2009-03-15T15:50:00.001-07:00

My daughter brought the preschool guinea pig home this weekend, and I had a little fun with the camera.

My Son Approves Of This Team-Up

2009-03-12T16:16:00.001-07:00

OK, I realize that I have repeatedly dissed Damian (who is clearly the new Robin, pictured here in Grant Morrison's upcoming "Batman and Robin"), but my 9-year-old son flipped when he saw this Frank Quitely picture. He's gonna want those boots.

'Battle For The Cowl' Disappoints Me

2009-03-12T06:35:00.000-07:00

The first installment of the three-part "Battle for the Cowl" was disappointing in some pretty significant ways. The story has the dull sheen of inevitability, and as others have pointed out, some of the art is effing terrible. Seriously, Tony Daniel draws one unattractive Nightwing, which is particularly offensive considering that the character is one of the heartthrobs of the D.C. universe. In several panels, his upper body makes him look almost deformed. The fact that every woman on the cover has odd, pointy breasts is another ominous sign. One of my favorite bloggers, J. Caleb Mozzocco, dissects the artistic wrongness very well.

The plot is your standard "Who is impersonating Superhero X," which is supposed to be more poignant because the real Batman is "dead." Gotham City is now a war zone, but since it's always a hellish place, the story needed to convince me that things were worse than usual. It didn't really. Various villains unite to do whatever villains do when a major cape is out of the picture. Oh, look; there's Batman's (alleged) son Damian, taking the Batmobile out for a joyride. He's still not interesting.

This installment is narrated by Robin, who is one of my favorite characters. Unfortunately, he's saddled with some cringe-inducing internal dialogue: "With great preparation and a little luck, you can avoid (death). The bullets with your name on them. The knives with your reflection in the steel ..." Yikes. There's a lot of nattering about how Dick has shut down since Batman died and some glimpses of the wannabe who is impersonating his mentor.

Of course, I don't have to buy the next two issues of this, but D.C. has made such a big deal about BFC that I'm afraid I'll be completely lost if I don't see it through to the bitter end. That's probably what they're counting on.

On a happier note, Peter Tomasi's "Outsiders" has a lot of good stuff going on. I'm interested to see where he takes this title in the months ahead.

Has Lane Bryant Turned Over A New Leaf?

2009-03-11T08:41:00.001-07:00

I hated Lane Bryant for years.

As a chubby teen growing up in a town with one mall, I had to do a lot of my shopping there while my skinny friends bought clothes at the Body Shop (a forerunner to Rave and Forever 21) or Belk-Lindsey. I wasn’t all that big, but this was before clothing designers realized that young women over a junior size 12 might not want to dress like their moms.

LB didn’t exactly carry the Benetton/Esprit/Guess-inspired outfits my pals were wearing. I was bitter.

My weight waxed and waned over the years, and there have been times when LB was the only option. With the exception of the jeans, I hated everything. I don’t wear T-shirts with glitter on them, and I have no interested in announcing to the world that I am “thick and fabulous.” The clothes were so trendy and desperate it hurt, and there was a dearth of natural fabrics.

Thanks to the Internet and a lot of exercise, I haven’t had to visit LB in a while. But a post over at Fat Stylist about the store’s new catalog and style re-launch intrigued me. While it appears that polyester still reigns, the clothes do seem to be more sophisticated and streamlined than I remember. I’ve always preferred a pared-down, classic aesthetic, and I have a strong aversion to lace. Still, there were a few items that were quite pretty, like this ruffled wrap blouse and this denim/hippie skirt combination. It’s still not quite my style, but what a vast improvement.

Now if only Lane would step away from the polyester. In Florida, it is not a good thing.

P.J. Has Fallen On Hard Times

2009-03-10T12:18:00.001-07:00

It's Barbie's 50th birthday, but for some reason, I've been thinking about the whereabouts of her onetime BFF/cousin P.J. As a kid, I suspected that P.J. was a little too attractive and similar to Barbie for her own good. Malibu Barbie and Malibu P.J. were practically twins in the '70s, and, well, someone's got to be the backup doll. Unlike Skipper or even Barbie's black friends Christie and Cara, P.J. was a threat. I remember staging some fierce (and embarrassingly non-feminist) battles for my lone Ken's attention, and sometimes, out of sympathy, I let P.J. win.

My understanding is that P.J. was "discontinued" in the 1980s, but I found her — barefoot and slightly fried-looking — on eBay. Is it just me, or does she bear an unsettling resemblance to a certain pop star whose name rhymes with "jitney?"

So '80s It Hurts

2009-03-10T06:14:00.000-07:00

Whenever I'm tempted to rant about how terrible modern children's television shows are (I'm looking at you Zack & Cody), a little voice says, "Kidd Video."

My brother and sister were little kids in the '80s, so I was at least aware of shows like "Jem" and "Thundercats" when I was a teenager. One of the most bizarre was "Kidd Video," which latched on to the popularity of music videos around 1984. The actor who played "Brady Bunch" agent of doom Cousin Oliver was in it, so that was the first red flag. The concept involved the young rockers being taken to an alterate cartoon reality, referred to as "the flip side." Naturally, they encountered a sidekick who appears to be a clumsy Tinkerbell type with leg warmers. An instant classic.

Movie Of The Week: "Wonder Woman"

2009-03-09T06:54:00.000-07:00

While my friends were geeking out on "Watchmen," I decided to see the new "Wonder Woman" movie instead. Animated, direct-to-DVD movies don't get a lot of respect, and I'll admit that my expectations for this venture were pretty low. But "Wonder Woman" is well done and fun to watch. It's got intense action and humor, and it acknowledges the obvious — that Diana is a sexy character whose existence in "man's world" is a plot line unto itself. (More on that later.) I enjoyed it much more than last year's ambitious but draggy "JLA: The New Frontier," which couldn't quite capture the magic of the Darwyn Cooke comic series it was based on.

"Wonder Woman" establishes early that the Amazons of Themyscira are no joke. After their betrayal and enslavement courtesy of the skeevy Ares, Queen Hippolyta and her fellow Amazons stage a bloody, victorious uprising. With Ares imprisoned and the men banished, Princess Diana grows up in idyllic isolation — until cocky pilot (is there any other kind?) Steve Trevor crashes his plane on her island. Diana (voiced by Kerri Russell) is pretty cocky, too, and against her mother Hippolyta's wishes, she proves herself battle-worthy to venture to man's world to capture Ares after he escapes.

Diana might be new to man's world, but she's not stupid. When Steve (Nathan Fillion) tries (and tries and tries) to get her drunk on tequila shots, she tells him how pointless it is to try to out-drink an Amazon. She's openly scornful of Etta Candy, who flirts with Steve by pretending she can't move a table to retrieve a pen. "What's wrong with you?" Diana says, questioning why a perfectly healthy woman can't move a piece of furniture. She then lifts the desk with one hand.

The movie gets a lot of mileage out of Diana and Steve's flirty interaction, especially his tendency to say the wrong thing ("Let's get you some different clothes before I get arrested for solicitation.") But while he's not exactly Prince Charming, it's nice to see a nod to this aspect of Wonder Woman's character. As a Mighty God King essay points out, Wonder Woman's sexuality often has been muted in comics, as if D.C. fears that she'll "come across as a slut or something." Even Batman gets some action once in a while, but until Gail Simone's recent presentation of Wonder Woman's courtship of Nemesis, I can't remember the last time a writer acknowledged that Diana might want — let alone have — a grown-up relationship. Warriors need love, too.

I haven't had a chance to dive into all the DVD extras on the two-disc edition, but I'll definitely watch the main feature again. The Cheetah makes an appearance at the very end, which leads me to believe that Warner Brothers is at least considering a sequel. I hope so.

It Just Gets Worse

2009-03-05T14:00:00.000-08:00

So the police report stemming from the Chris Brown/Rihanna assault has hit the press. It's B-A-D, and reading it is chilling. Brown has been charged with two felonies, and there is no way to spin it. Meanwhile, credible publications are saying that the two kids are back together. That isn't surprising — but if even a third of what the report says is true, it is frightening.

The obvious: If the allegations are true, Brown ought to go directly to jail. I don't want to hear comments like, "Well, sometimes you get caught out there, and everybody makes mistakes. They need to work it out." Hitting your significant other until s/he is bloody and then putting them in a chokehold isn't a "mistake." It's a violent crime. Unless she had a gun to his head and threatened, unprovoked, to pull the trigger, there is no excuse for him hitting her. If he did it once (and according to reports, she said it wasn't the first time), he'll do it again. That's what abusers eventually do after the victim accepts their apologies and takes them back.

Putting all of that aside, reuniting with an allegedly abusive lover isn't a great career move, either. As a performer, Rihanna has an edgy, strong-young-woman image that isn't exactly helped by taking her alleged attacker back. I'm guessing her fans will range from disappointed to baffled, and the questions will be unavoidable unless she's planning to retire early or become a recluse.

Why does this matter? Rihanna has given domestic violence a high-profile face. I'm sure she'd rather not have her personal turmoil turned into a teachable moment, but that's one of the few good things that might come of this.