I’m old, I can’t deny it. Got the arthritis, crepey skin, and lots of hair growing out of my ears and nose.
Been there, done that, seen it all, heard plenty, said too much, etc. I’m an old fuddy-duddy, not quite a curmudgeon, but not far from a permanent sour puss. I get annoyed and almost cranky on occasion. New-fangled stuff and same-old-same-old crap equally drive me batty.
The X, Y, and Z Generations dismiss me as out-of-touch: I don’t even engage in social media or own any bitcoins, and I can hardly figure out how to use my cell phone. Thomas Edison probably felt irrelevant like this when he was 90 years old or so; Elon Musk will in another 40 years.
In my advanced state of decrepitness and confusion, I ponder the events of the day, trying to make sense of it all.
Charlie and I watch a lot of crime dramas on TV. Probably too many, as we can predict the plot lines and identify the bad guy before the detectives do. If the camera pauses a split second too long on a nondescript item or some guy in the background, you can bet that it or him is key to the case. Does the same guy write the scripts for all of the police procedural dramas?
We’re old enough to have watched every dadgum police drama since Dragnet. There have been hundreds of these cop shows since the mid-Fifties. I think NYPD Blue was the best on network television, followed by Law and Order: lots of interesting cases and many excellent actors. On streaming Amazon Prime we really liked the grittiness of Bosch. Worst: probably CSI:Miami starring ham actor David Caruso, who struck dramatic poses before declaring the obvious, although Jack Lord in Hawaii Five-O was pretty pompous while telling his sidekick to “Book ‘em!”. The Most Unrealistic Detective Emmy goes to Lennie Briscoe (Law and Order), who quipped one-liner jokes incessantly and acted as if he cared more about missing lunch than solving crimes. Most Pro-Police Political Propaganda: Blue Bloods, which bent over backward to excuse bad behavior by copsand always ratcheted up the NYPD effort when an officer or his family fell victim to violence. (We love our police, bless them for protecting us, but should the law enforcement community try harder for justice for one of their own than they do for the average citizen victim? Doesn’t seem right to me, and cop shows where this phenomenon is glorified probably don’t go over very well in minority communities, where equal justice under the law is unknown.)
The recent array of F.B.I. dramas remind me of the C.S.I. and Law and Order spinoffs where they simply re-use old script ideas with different actors and make the cops the targets of the bad guys (which is rare in real life). A few things about the F.B.I. series annoy me: (1) How rapidly a photo of a dude in a crowd can be positively identified by some nerd sitting at an F.B.I. computer in New York: maybe five seconds, tops; (2) Similar with cell phone tracking, vehicle tracking, DNA testing and bullet slug testing, etc.; (3) The same F.B.I. Special Agents get involved in shootouts every week, while the vast majority of real F.B.I. agents are lawyers and accountants and only fire their service Glocks at the practice range; and, (4) Practically every episode features one or two foot chases after perps (with the slender, female Black special agent usually coldcocking the bad guy in the end): in real life, probably one F.B.I. agent out of 100 has ever chased anything while on duty except a vendor pushing a hot dog cart.
C’mon, scriptwriters, you can do better!
Charlie and I have become addicted to “design/remodeling” shows on HGTV, DIY, Discovery Plus, and other networks. They are purportedly reality-based episodes, but it’s obvious that they are totally scripted and the real homeowners are acting, to some extent. The cost of the repairs/remodel seem low, as well: someone is adding a little sugar to make these efforts seem more affordable. That’s okay, because we watch the episodes for the design and style ideas, some of which we’ve incorporated into our homes over the years. I have a great appreciation for people that have the artistic gene: they seem to see beauty and possibilities in things that normal people don’t and can visually turn lemons into lemonade. I often wish that I had been blessed with the creative gene but, alas, I can’t watercolor by the numbers.
Two things that I do know after watching so many home redesign and remodeling shows is that interior design is an art which can really make a room special and that most of the top interior design experts are women and gay men. The same goes for clothing design (trust me, we’ve watched every season of Project Runway, God Help Us.)
I thought of something today along this line that may be stretching a point but it’s an interesting analogy.
When Christianity became the state religion in Europe, Jews were persecuted. One of the ways was to not let them be involved in regular professions but, rather, make them get involved in things like moneylending, which the pious Christians of the day considered to be beneath their dignity (recall Jesus’ rant at the moneylenders in the Temple). Because of this forced profession, over time, the Jews became the de-facto bankers of Europe and ironically gained immense wealth and power. Now many Christians hold this outcome against the Jews because they have become such good financial wizards. The Rothschild family is a familiar target of right-wing Jew hating doofuses: racism and religious persecution made them perhaps the richest family in the world.
Interior design and clothing design are not considered masculine professions like law enforcement, fire safety, construction, professional sports, plumbing, lumberjacking, cowboying, and so forth. Employers in those fields are looking for ex-high school jocks. Where does a bright, young homosexual man look for a profession? Probably a field where masculinity is not valued, and one doesn’t need to compete with the bully that used to shame you between classes in high school. By default, design professions are left to the non-masculine fellows who are more comfortable chatting with women about things that they value: clothing styles and home design. Ouila, a perfect career choice for a sensitive guy with an artistic flair!
It is a wonderful thing to have 400 cable channels and another 100 streaming video options available to us in this modern world. However, most of it is uninteresting to us, a lot of it trashy, particularly the “reality”-based stuff that is so common these days. Who really wants to know more about compulsive hoarders, 1000-pound sisters, naked people competing in a jungle, phony professional wrestling “matches”, nerds trying to connect with ghosts, the Kardashians, upset people throwing chairs at each other while being interviewed, and so forth? I guess there’s an audience for this silliness: probably the same people who get their kicks on Twitter and Facebook dealing with their boredom.
Do we really need anymore “Real Housewives of…”? How many of these turkeys are out there already? It seems to me that that last thing that these bimbos can claim to be are housewives, and the things most common with all of them are overdone makeup, tight and gaudy clothes, lots of cleavage and big butts, and loud and nasty tempers. Where do the producers find these “ladies”? (I’m thinkin’ down near the motels that one can rent by the hour.) What husband would want one of these Drama Queens in his home? Who takes care of the kids? What’s for dinner?
We like real reality. One fascinating source of such stuff is YouTube. All manner of uplifting documentation is there, like puppies being loved by the family cat, people rescuing wild animals from bad situations, sports achievements, interviews with famous actors, cooking lessons, etc. (My late Mom had a video on YouTube once: how to make Egg Foo Young. Pretty cool, an 80-year-old passing along knowledge.)
Of course, there are also lots of human drama clips on YouTube. I particularly like the Boat Ramp Failures, Bad Driver Mishaps, Big Wave Surfing, and Texas Hold’em Poker. And one can cue up just about any live performance of their favorite musical group or performer.
We’re done with the purported reality “contests” like Dancing with the Stars, America’s Got Talent, The Voice, etc. If there’s voting involved, politics enters into the judging, and weird things happen that don’t make sense, like famous people who have two left feet (or can’t hear the music because they are DEAF) beating out coordinated dancers. Let’s face it: Chastity/nee Chaz/nee ??? Bono had as much dancing ability as Bozo the Clown.
And, on A.G.T., how many tumbling and cheerleader squads must we endure? They’re cute, God Bless Them, but the winner of the competition is supposed to get a gig in Las Vegas that booze-soaked gamblers will pay money to see in a showroom. Legitimate singers, magicians, incredible acrobats, death-defying stunts, and so forth… that’s what people expect, not an 8-year-old girl who sings Christian hymns.
I guess I’m just old-fashioned when it comes to Vegas: it’s an adult place where supposedly-grown-up folks go to act like juveniles for a few days. Lost wages, Viva Elvis, the Hard Rock Café, and quickie weddings (and divorces). What happens there stays there for a reason… like your money.
Did I mention Chaz Bono? That whole LGBTQ thing has me totally confused, particularly when a guy likes other guys… but then goes bonkers and tries to look like a woman (with artificial tits, tucked penis and balls, makeup and wig). But wait a minute, this guy doesn’t like women… why would he want look like one? To attract men? But most guys would kick his ass when they found out they’d been duped. And, if he looked like a woman, no gay guys would want him either because they don’t like women. So, I’m a straight guy totally confused about this peculiar behavior.
I’m okay with “straight” homosexuality (not all people are wired the same), and I’ve enjoyed friendships with many gay men and lesbians. But I guess I’m not modern enough to understand the kinky stuff and why I should embrace that lifestyle as okay.
Particularly, Chaz Bono’s girlfriend. She was/is a lesbian, she is attracted to other women, and Chaz was initially Chastity, a girl, so that makes some sense. Then, Chastity goes for the hormone therapy and swapping out female for male parts, becomes Chaz, a pseudo guy, even though he/she is a biological woman. The girlfriend sticks with him, at least through the Dancing with the Stars fiasco. What was up with that? Again, I guess I’m too old in my thinking to wrap my head around this behavior and be comfortable with it.
Not to belabor the point, but what is going on with the Trans people? I suppose Chaz was a Trans girl/guy, but at least she/he tried to look like a normal person. (It didn’t really work: Chaz looked like The Michelin Man.) The Trans folk that I’ve seen on television and the news seem to be all about garnering attention, going out of their way to shock and offend regular citizens. Lots of cosmetic surgery to look cartoonish, for some reason. They seem highly immature caricatures of adult people, all dressed up in weird outfits and such, designed to get their faces on social media. I’m ashamed to say (since I’m so square) that I don’t get it.
As long as I’m on this rant, how about the guys who want to be girls competing with the girls in athletics? I used to compete in a lot of things, sportswise, and, generally speaking, girls don’t have the musculature (because of the impact of testosterone) that men do. So, men will typically be faster, stronger, tougher, etc. than women, pound for pound. Women basketball players, even WNBA champs, wouldn’t score a point in the NBA. Guys who want to be girls (because they’re gay?) are not going to compete fairly with real gals because they are still guys, biologically, even if they have their pecker removed and use hormones to grow tits. I wouldn’t feel too good about one of these confused gay guys ogling the girls in my daughter’s locker room at school or joining her in the women’s lavatory, either. I’m a prude, I suppose, but it doesn’t seem right to me. Call me conservative, if you must, but the guy/girl/whatever can use a stall in the men’s room, okay?
There, I’ve said it, I’m not down with all of the L.B.G.T.Q. shenanigans.
Go ahead, turn me in to Oprah for not being politically correct.