It's awards season. Many of you probably could not care less, but I am a wee bit of an awards show fan. In fact, I have been known to take a personal day the day after the Oscars just so I can stay up and take in the whole show in all its overblown glory without worrying about an alarm clock the next day.
It probably classifies as some sort of mental illness. Award Show Addiction Syndrome.
With the Golden Globes on Sunday, it occurred to me that I have not done a year-end awards list this year. So without further adieu, I give you my own awards for the best (and worst) in movies, books, television, and music. I am not rolling out the red carpet, nor am I able to have the entire cast of Lost in all its unnatural beauty come to my house to accept their award (but oh that I could.) But I am giving each winner a toast. With my morning Coke, of course.
The Cranky Awards for Excellence (or not) in Television
Best Drama
Lost. With a series end date now part of the network's and creators' plans, it got its mojo back.
Best Comedy
30 Rock. I've watched the Oprah episode 3 times now, and each time it gets funnier as I discover a small moment or line I hadn't caught before. If you're not watching this show, please start.
Worst Fall From Grace From a Formerly Great Show
What happened to you, Heroes? How did you go from must-see to deleted from my DVR?
Best Actor, Drama
He wasn't a lead actor, but I would have to give a Cranky statue to Michael Emerson for his portrayal of Ben on Lost. Never has a "villain" so tugged at my heart as Ben did when he lost Alex. Never have I been so unsure as to whether to hate or love a character. Well played, sir. Well played.
Best Actor, Comedy
Neil Patrick Harris, How I Met Your Mother. I love it when a character in a comedy steps up and has a human, dramatic moment. Last season's finale had a great moment like that for Barney, and Harris made it heart-wrenching. But in a real, not over-done way. I used to be in love with him when we was Doogie, and darnit if he didn't stir all that right back up.
Best Actress, Drama
Dana Delaney, Desperate Housewives. Yeah, DH is probably a comedy. But Delaney had the most dramatic role in the series as the season wound down last year. I have loved her since China Beach and she made me start watching DH again.
Best Actress, Comedy
Tina Fey. Not for 30 Rock. For being Sarah Palin on SNL. C'mon, even my beloved Republican readers have to admit she was funny.
Best Reality Show
David vs. David on American Idol. I really can't believe I just wrote that.
The Cranky Choice Awards for Film
Let me preface this category by saying I wasn't a big filmgoer this year. So these are pretty narrow choices.
Best Picture
Wall-E. Yes, it's a "cartoon". But I think, decades from now, critics will look back on Wall-E as a representative film of this era. Technical innovation and a sense of "look what we can do"? Check. A dark undertone that highlights the current pessimism of the American people? Check. A word of warning and sense of hope for our fragile, endangered planet? Check. An unconventional love story? Check. I almost gave this award to the stunning The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, but I can't get past the beauty and awe of the first half hour of Wall-E. I think, as far as Oscars go, this movie will be underrated; another film will win, but Wall-E will be the picture most of us remember from this year.
Best Actor
After we watched The Dark Knight on DVD, Heath Ledger's performance was all Jason and I could talk about. I don't think I think this just because we lost him too soon; I think it's one of the gutsiest, most original performances I have ever seen.
Best Actress
Cate Blanchett, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I really love her and think she can do no wrong. Could I be her for, like, a day?
Biggest Disappointment
The X-Files. There. I said it. It's not that I thought it sucked...it's just that I wanted it to be outstanding. Though it was nice to learn that Mulder and Scully have been knocking boots on a regular basis.
Best Surprise
I really liked High School Musical 3. It was a solid 90 minutes of escapist entertainment. For Ainsley, I mean.
Best Theater Experience
It wasn't even really a movie. But the night that I took Ainsley to see the Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus Best of Both Worlds concert in 3-D at the movies...magical. When Ainsley reached her hand out to try to catch the 3-D confetti, I could have died from cute overload.
Cranky's Best in Books (Plus Stephenie Meyer)
Not all of these were published in 2008. I just read them this year. So there.
Best Short Story
"The Things They Left Behind" by Stephen King from his new collection of stories, Just After Sunset. It's a tale of survivor guilt from a man who was not in one of the towers on September 11, but should have been. It's Uncle Stevie at his best.
Best Novel
No Country For Old Men. Having read The Road, and having given myself ample recovery time from it, I decided to pick up this grueling tale during award season last year when the film was getting so much buzz. It was perfect winter reading as it chilled me to the bone.
Best Nonfiction
The Water Is Wide by Pat Conroy. It's an oldie but goodie, especially if you are a teacher. The perfect read while driving home from Conroy's native South Carolina.
Best Memoir
Carrie Fisher's Wishful Drinking. I knew Carrie was funny, but I had no idea she was that funny. It's that dark, bone-dry humor that I do so love. One of the few books I read this year where I got to the end and thought, "I wish this were about 100 pages longer."
Best Personal Essay
"The Youth" by David Sedaris from his book Me Talk Pretty One Day. Most of you have probably already discovered David Sedaris; I just discovered him this year. That one essay in particular, which discusses the pets he's had in his lifetime first in a humorous way and then in a somber way as he describes putting his aged cat to sleep, made me both laugh and get teary. And as we all know, things that are simultaneously hilarious and moving are my favorite things.
Worst Book Of The Year
So disappointing. Breaking Dawn. I previously had found myself recommending Twilight to anyone who would listen. And I even enjoyed Breaking Dawn as a mindless summer read. Until I started really thinking about it. And grew angry that an author would end a beloved series on such a dank note.
Please Don't Stop The Music...Unless it's Rihanna
Best Album
I would love to be all hip and cool and tell you I think it's Weezer's red album. (Do you capitalize it when they don't give it a name, and people just refer to it by the color? Discuss.) But I think I have to go the road more travelled and say Coldplay's Viva La Vida. I know. I am so not cool.
Best Song--The One I Easily Admit To
"Violet Hill"--Coldplay.
Best Song--The One I Don't Like To Talk About
"If I Were a Boy"--Beyonce. I love to sing along to this one. In the car. When all by myself. Now my secret is out; I am a closet Beyonce fan.
The Song That Most Gets Stuck In Your Head And Eats Your Brain
"Disturbia" by Rihanna. This is the one I blogged about Ainsley really liking a few months ago. I don't really like it, but somehow or other it gets stuck in my head and likes to rattle around in there for days.
Most Overplayed Song of 2008
"Womanizer" by that Britney Spears person. Perhaps you've heard of her?
Most Played Album At Casa De Cranky
I bet you can predict it...the High School Musical 3 soundtrack.
Our Summer Soundtrack
The Barenaked Ladies--Snacktime. Never has kid music been so tolerable.
Best Concert
And only concert--the Barenaked Ladies playing at that casino in that one town in Indiana. You know the one.
The Song That Made Me Want To Bust My Own Eardrums
Actually, a tie. These were the two songs of 2008 that, without fail, made me scream and change the channel. The second of these might have been an okay song had I not heard it every time I turned on the radio this summer.
"No Air" by my least favorite American Idol winner ever and some guy; and
"Bleeding Love" by Leona Lewis.
That's it. Feel free to agree or disagree and chime in with your own stuff.
I will check your responses between interesting awards on Golden Globes Sunday.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Legend of the Falls
I fell on ice. AGAIN. Has no one heard of salt?
The good news is that this time my amazing display of grace and form was softened by my upper body landing on the garbage bag full of used kitty litter I was hauling out to my mom's garbage can. Otherwise, I may have re-injured my shoulder. Though, let me just say...ewww.
The bad news is I ruined my favorite pair of decade-old Calvins. When I fell this time I fell forward on my left knee, blowing out the knee of my jeans. I slit that beloved denim straight across from seam to seam (and left most of the skin from that knee on the concrete.)
"They still look good," Jason said as I walked in the door. "If this were 1995."
And considering my favorite way to wear these jeans was with an old flannel shirt on weekend days when I felt like going on a Panera bagel run before getting showered and into real clothes, I guess they'll still do. But there's no disguising their 1990s-ness now.
My body has been meeting the asphalt far too much here lately. It's been a while since I actually skinned a body part, though, and I couldn't help, when my mother insisted on pouring peroxide on my wound before I left her house as though I am still seven, thinking of the Great Bike Wreck of 1989 when I essentially road-burned all the skin off of one knee, shoulder, and the upper-left side of my head.
Mom reached for the peroxide that day, took a second look at me, and sent my sorry ass to the emergency room for my first and only trip there.
The triage nurse looked at my bloody profile.
"What kind of bike was it? Motorcycle?"
My dad grinned his crooked, devlish grin. "Nope. Ten-speed!"
I won't lie. I hated him a little right then. He was amused that his brainy but coordination-challenged youngest daughter had done so much damage riding an ordinary bike up to (oh, the irony) volleyball tryouts.
Given my long and proud history of falling onto pavement, and the unfortunate fact that my daughter shows some skills in that area herself, I am a huge proponent of bicycle helmets.
In fact, I am considering wearing one (and knee pads!) every time I get out for the rest of the winter. At least, until people discover that sodium chloride melts winter ice.
The good news is that this time my amazing display of grace and form was softened by my upper body landing on the garbage bag full of used kitty litter I was hauling out to my mom's garbage can. Otherwise, I may have re-injured my shoulder. Though, let me just say...ewww.
The bad news is I ruined my favorite pair of decade-old Calvins. When I fell this time I fell forward on my left knee, blowing out the knee of my jeans. I slit that beloved denim straight across from seam to seam (and left most of the skin from that knee on the concrete.)
"They still look good," Jason said as I walked in the door. "If this were 1995."
And considering my favorite way to wear these jeans was with an old flannel shirt on weekend days when I felt like going on a Panera bagel run before getting showered and into real clothes, I guess they'll still do. But there's no disguising their 1990s-ness now.
My body has been meeting the asphalt far too much here lately. It's been a while since I actually skinned a body part, though, and I couldn't help, when my mother insisted on pouring peroxide on my wound before I left her house as though I am still seven, thinking of the Great Bike Wreck of 1989 when I essentially road-burned all the skin off of one knee, shoulder, and the upper-left side of my head.
Mom reached for the peroxide that day, took a second look at me, and sent my sorry ass to the emergency room for my first and only trip there.
The triage nurse looked at my bloody profile.
"What kind of bike was it? Motorcycle?"
My dad grinned his crooked, devlish grin. "Nope. Ten-speed!"
I won't lie. I hated him a little right then. He was amused that his brainy but coordination-challenged youngest daughter had done so much damage riding an ordinary bike up to (oh, the irony) volleyball tryouts.
Given my long and proud history of falling onto pavement, and the unfortunate fact that my daughter shows some skills in that area herself, I am a huge proponent of bicycle helmets.
In fact, I am considering wearing one (and knee pads!) every time I get out for the rest of the winter. At least, until people discover that sodium chloride melts winter ice.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Welcome Back, Scrubs. I've Missed You So.
I can hardly believe that one of my favorite TV comedies ever is down to what will most likely be its final episodes.
After a fashionably long hiatus (why do so many shows follow the Lost formula these days and make you wait from May to January without a new episode?) Scrubs launched its (probable) last season last night with two back-to-back episodes. The first was your typical Scrubs silliness (only made truly memorable by a rant Courtney Cox Arquette's character goes on about spiders and how they should be stomped rather than carried outside in paper cups "because they're sneaky"). The second had me doing what Scrubs has me doing quite a bit: laughing one minute, reaching for the tissues the next.
When a dying man comes into the hospital, with no family to be with him in his final hours, J.D. and Turk skip their annual Steak Night to share a beer and some comfort with the man. It was a sad situation, certainly, but one that's not unusual for that show. But here's the genius of Scrubs: you never see it coming. The sad moments aren't predictable. There's a terminal patient in almost every episode. So I wasn't planning on crying, especially since the banter between the doctors and patient was so comic. But then the old man admitted he was scared. And the two doctors, who previously had told the dying man that they didn't see death as something to fear, that they believed in heaven, admitted to being afraid themselves.
"Of course we're afraid," J.D. said (or something like this; I am going from memory here.) "We just don't want Death to know. Because once it knows, it has us."
Gah. If only real doctors were that candid.
The episode ended with J.D. telling the old man the only thing that he knows for sure about death: that if you can die with your last thought being a happy one, that that's the best exit you can hope for. So the dying man lets his head fall back and remembers how good his last beer tasted.
And that was his dying thought. And really, when I have to go, that wouldn't be such a bad note to leave on. Especially if my last beer is a Unibroue.
I cried quietly for a minute as the episode finished. Which is troubling; if the second episode of this (probable) final season does this to me, what in the world will I be like with the last episode? Because chances are, they will pull out all the tearjerker stops.
Any other Scrubs fans out there? If so, what were your fave episodes? And should the series go on even though Zach Braff and Bill Lawrence have said this is it for them? And if you don't like Scrubs...what is wrong with you??
After a fashionably long hiatus (why do so many shows follow the Lost formula these days and make you wait from May to January without a new episode?) Scrubs launched its (probable) last season last night with two back-to-back episodes. The first was your typical Scrubs silliness (only made truly memorable by a rant Courtney Cox Arquette's character goes on about spiders and how they should be stomped rather than carried outside in paper cups "because they're sneaky"). The second had me doing what Scrubs has me doing quite a bit: laughing one minute, reaching for the tissues the next.
When a dying man comes into the hospital, with no family to be with him in his final hours, J.D. and Turk skip their annual Steak Night to share a beer and some comfort with the man. It was a sad situation, certainly, but one that's not unusual for that show. But here's the genius of Scrubs: you never see it coming. The sad moments aren't predictable. There's a terminal patient in almost every episode. So I wasn't planning on crying, especially since the banter between the doctors and patient was so comic. But then the old man admitted he was scared. And the two doctors, who previously had told the dying man that they didn't see death as something to fear, that they believed in heaven, admitted to being afraid themselves.
"Of course we're afraid," J.D. said (or something like this; I am going from memory here.) "We just don't want Death to know. Because once it knows, it has us."
Gah. If only real doctors were that candid.
The episode ended with J.D. telling the old man the only thing that he knows for sure about death: that if you can die with your last thought being a happy one, that that's the best exit you can hope for. So the dying man lets his head fall back and remembers how good his last beer tasted.
And that was his dying thought. And really, when I have to go, that wouldn't be such a bad note to leave on. Especially if my last beer is a Unibroue.
I cried quietly for a minute as the episode finished. Which is troubling; if the second episode of this (probable) final season does this to me, what in the world will I be like with the last episode? Because chances are, they will pull out all the tearjerker stops.
Any other Scrubs fans out there? If so, what were your fave episodes? And should the series go on even though Zach Braff and Bill Lawrence have said this is it for them? And if you don't like Scrubs...what is wrong with you??
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Out of the Mouth of Ains: Home Edition
"Um, Mommy, I know everything that happens after you marry somebody."
Well, if that won't make you drop the body wash bottle into your kid's bathwater, I don't know what will.
I shuddered to ask.
"What do you think happens after you marry someone?"
"First you get married, then you buy a house, then you have some babies. Oh, yeah, and then you have to name all the babies. And that's pretty much it. You're done." And then she smacked and rubbed her hands together in that great way that signifies finality and washing your hands of a dirty situation.
See, kids? Marriage is a piece of cake.
And thank God she didn't mention any of the steps leading up to having some babies. Because I absolutely thought that was where she was headed. I am so not ready for that talk yet.
Well, if that won't make you drop the body wash bottle into your kid's bathwater, I don't know what will.
I shuddered to ask.
"What do you think happens after you marry someone?"
"First you get married, then you buy a house, then you have some babies. Oh, yeah, and then you have to name all the babies. And that's pretty much it. You're done." And then she smacked and rubbed her hands together in that great way that signifies finality and washing your hands of a dirty situation.
See, kids? Marriage is a piece of cake.
And thank God she didn't mention any of the steps leading up to having some babies. Because I absolutely thought that was where she was headed. I am so not ready for that talk yet.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Can You Run Fast Enough, Jesus?
Let me start by saying I generally do not mishear lyrics.
I know a lot of people do. Enough that there are books listing all the various ways people have misheard song lyrics. I did, for a long time, think that Kiss was saying they wanted to rock and roll all night and part of every day, but that used to be the worst of my misheard sins. My husband is notorious for this; just last week, after we listened to the Dixie Chicks' "Sin Wagon" in order to improve our Rock Band score on that song, he broke out in song:
"Raise the roof
And pass the ammunition..."
He even did the raising the roof motion. Until I told him that it was actually:
"Praise the Lord
And pass the ammunition..."
Though you certainly could raise the roof with that barn burner of a country anthem.
Then days later I had a shocking realization.
You know that Depeche Mode song, "Personal Jesus"? It's a good song. Over the break I heard the Johnny Cash cover of that song. It was amazing; I could actually hear every word when the man in black was singing. But when he sang,
"Your own...personal...Jesus..."
my jaw dropped. Because what I had heard for years, what I would have bet money on being the lyrics to that song, were:
"Can you run...fast enough...Jesus?"
Yeah, I know.
And the part that really goes, "Reach out and touch faith"? I thought that was "Reach out and touch me."
How did I get that so wrong?
I mean, I knew the title of the song was "Personal Jesus." But I thought it was one of those songs where the title is the meaning of the song, not so much a part of the chorus. I thought the song was saying that everyone wants to twist Jesus's message to justify their often close-minded world views. And that, if Jesus were here on earth observing this gross misuse and misinterpreting of his teachings, he would run. Hopefully, fast enough.
And now I just don't know what the song is really about.
Am I the only idiot who hears that song this way? And have you ever listened to a cover of a song and gone, "Really? Really? THAT'S how that song goes?"
Please tell me I am not alone.
I know a lot of people do. Enough that there are books listing all the various ways people have misheard song lyrics. I did, for a long time, think that Kiss was saying they wanted to rock and roll all night and part of every day, but that used to be the worst of my misheard sins. My husband is notorious for this; just last week, after we listened to the Dixie Chicks' "Sin Wagon" in order to improve our Rock Band score on that song, he broke out in song:
"Raise the roof
And pass the ammunition..."
He even did the raising the roof motion. Until I told him that it was actually:
"Praise the Lord
And pass the ammunition..."
Though you certainly could raise the roof with that barn burner of a country anthem.
Then days later I had a shocking realization.
You know that Depeche Mode song, "Personal Jesus"? It's a good song. Over the break I heard the Johnny Cash cover of that song. It was amazing; I could actually hear every word when the man in black was singing. But when he sang,
"Your own...personal...Jesus..."
my jaw dropped. Because what I had heard for years, what I would have bet money on being the lyrics to that song, were:
"Can you run...fast enough...Jesus?"
Yeah, I know.
And the part that really goes, "Reach out and touch faith"? I thought that was "Reach out and touch me."
How did I get that so wrong?
I mean, I knew the title of the song was "Personal Jesus." But I thought it was one of those songs where the title is the meaning of the song, not so much a part of the chorus. I thought the song was saying that everyone wants to twist Jesus's message to justify their often close-minded world views. And that, if Jesus were here on earth observing this gross misuse and misinterpreting of his teachings, he would run. Hopefully, fast enough.
And now I just don't know what the song is really about.
Am I the only idiot who hears that song this way? And have you ever listened to a cover of a song and gone, "Really? Really? THAT'S how that song goes?"
Please tell me I am not alone.
What Santa Brought
It was a good Christmas in the Cranky house. Maybe not so much health-wise, as one of the things Santa dropped in mine and Jason's stockings was a stomach virus that caused us to get to know our toilet better. But in terms of sheer gift haulage, it was pretty awesome.
Santa brought Ainsley Lucky the Wonder Pup (which pretty much kicks everything we ever got from Santa's ass) and that girly rite of passage and first-degree burns, the Easy Bake Oven. Ever heard of Lucky? It was one of those gift requests that left me a little cold at first; when I saw his commercial, I had a hard time believing he could do all the wonderful things they said he could do. But lo and behold, that little computerized dog is the cutest thing to ever come into our house. He responds to 16 vocal commands and does tricks. And the best part is, when Ainsley is through with him, she can tell him to go to sleep and he actually does! So as far as I am concerned, he's better than a real dog. Though when he's not "asleep" and no one is playing with him, he likes to fart to try to get attention.
I got a GPS from Jason, mostly because I can't navigate my way out of a wet paper bag. Seriously, I have no sense of direction. But now that I have some satellite-driven help, I should always be able to get home. I made the guiding voice in my GPS be a man's voice for those times my dear hubby can't be in the car with me to tell me impatiently that I should turn left.
I got Jason a very manly gift: a coffee grinder. Don't laugh. Boyfriend loves his coffee. And my sister got him the Mario Kart game, which Ainsley has pretty much taken as her own. Even with hours of play each day, I am not convinced she should ever be allowed to get a driver's license.
What cool things did you get this year? And is there anything out there that could possibly be more adorable for kids than Lucky the Wonder Pup?
Santa brought Ainsley Lucky the Wonder Pup (which pretty much kicks everything we ever got from Santa's ass) and that girly rite of passage and first-degree burns, the Easy Bake Oven. Ever heard of Lucky? It was one of those gift requests that left me a little cold at first; when I saw his commercial, I had a hard time believing he could do all the wonderful things they said he could do. But lo and behold, that little computerized dog is the cutest thing to ever come into our house. He responds to 16 vocal commands and does tricks. And the best part is, when Ainsley is through with him, she can tell him to go to sleep and he actually does! So as far as I am concerned, he's better than a real dog. Though when he's not "asleep" and no one is playing with him, he likes to fart to try to get attention.
I got a GPS from Jason, mostly because I can't navigate my way out of a wet paper bag. Seriously, I have no sense of direction. But now that I have some satellite-driven help, I should always be able to get home. I made the guiding voice in my GPS be a man's voice for those times my dear hubby can't be in the car with me to tell me impatiently that I should turn left.
I got Jason a very manly gift: a coffee grinder. Don't laugh. Boyfriend loves his coffee. And my sister got him the Mario Kart game, which Ainsley has pretty much taken as her own. Even with hours of play each day, I am not convinced she should ever be allowed to get a driver's license.
What cool things did you get this year? And is there anything out there that could possibly be more adorable for kids than Lucky the Wonder Pup?
And We're Back
Miss me?
Between the shoulder thing, and the stomach virus thing, and the "I don't really like Christmas" thing, I have lost my writing mojo. Being sick and being in pain and being surrounded by red and green while sick and in pain sapped my inspiration. Hopefully, now that the page on the calendar has flipped to a new year, you, my dear readers, are still with me despite my lapse.
I have a few entries that have been rattling around in my noggin for a few days, and I will work on posting those during lunch and after school today and get myself back on track.
In the meantime, I hope the new year finds you well and that Santa left you all that your heart desired.
Stay tuned; some random stuff will be going up later today. Enjoy, and welcome back. And forgive any cobwebs you see; my brain has been little used and is a little dusty.
Between the shoulder thing, and the stomach virus thing, and the "I don't really like Christmas" thing, I have lost my writing mojo. Being sick and being in pain and being surrounded by red and green while sick and in pain sapped my inspiration. Hopefully, now that the page on the calendar has flipped to a new year, you, my dear readers, are still with me despite my lapse.
I have a few entries that have been rattling around in my noggin for a few days, and I will work on posting those during lunch and after school today and get myself back on track.
In the meantime, I hope the new year finds you well and that Santa left you all that your heart desired.
Stay tuned; some random stuff will be going up later today. Enjoy, and welcome back. And forgive any cobwebs you see; my brain has been little used and is a little dusty.
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