9/23: Saturday Morning Channel Surfing
I must have slept in an awkward position last night because I woke up early this morning with one of those nagging headaches. You know, the kind that isn’t quite up to “throbbing” status, but yet it is persistent enough to make you feel like doing nothing – and even when you are doing nothing, it is not as fun as it should be because you have that little pounding going on up there in your cranium (sort of like what you are experiencing right now reading this entry). Since I couldn’t go back to sleep, I began some channel surfing. It’s always interesting to do this once in a while during a part of the day when you are not normally accustomed to watching television; I guess it is a chance to see what those people that are usually up with nothing to do in the wee-hours of the morning have at their disposal for entertainment. As a kid I always used to love staying up late on Sunday nights when I didn’t have to go to school Monday. I don’t know why; the night just seemed so … different. Oh well.
While going through various channels, I came across some profile story of Kathie Lee Gifford. I never had a problem with this chick, but then again I never watched her show with Regis. I’m sure reading my stories about the better half and the cats are annoying enough; I’d imagine having to hear about someone’s two kids on a daily basis would be worse. Still though, I’m not going to badmouth her. The only thing that disturbed me during this show was when she said that a person once called and asked her to make a CD filled with inspirational songs. Her response to this guy was that she would “pray on it,” and then she actually did so. Pray on it? Whenever someone says shit like that I get a little scared. I mean, what exactly do you do when you pray on something like this? “Uh, hi, God. I know you’re up there doing your thing – starting hurricanes, bringing life into this world, waiting for Allah to raise his pocket aces (boy is he going to be mad when you bust out your queen-high straight; and she isn't even wearing a burka), but I was wondering if you could help me out in this bind. No, I’m not asking for your assistance with a cancer-stricken family member. I’m also not wishing you to give me the resolve to leave my cheating scumbag husband. The reason I’m calling you today is because this guy wants me to sing on this album that will undoubtedly be popular with Middle America and bring in a bunch of money. What should I do?” Yeesh.
After watching this show I flipped through a few more channels and came across this A&E Biography on the "Brady Bunch" television show. Why in the hell did I watch this? Oh, I know: to learn that Cousin Oliver did the voice of Michelangelo in the first Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie. I haven’t seen the sequels, but I really liked the first movie. In fact, “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” was one of the few films I watched multiple times in the theater. That and “Weekend at Bernie’s.” (Don’t ask why, because I couldn’t give you an answer.) However, I was a Raphael fan, so I still say fuck Cousin Oliver for single-handedly ruining the “Brady Bunch.” Sure the show was probably crapping out at around this point in the series, but it’s easier, and more fun, to put all of the blame on some kid with glasses and a bowl haircut. Speaking of the “Brady Bunch,” years ago I remember Eve Plumb, the chick who played Jan, on a talk show, and when taking questions from the audience some girl asked Eve if she could do her infamous “Marsha Marsha Marsha” line. Wow, was Eve an asshole to that audience member. Her reply went something like, “Why don’t you just say it again since you obviously know how it goes.” Eve then started pimping her hippie artwork. Listen here, bitch, I get that you are probably sick of people you’ve never seen before approaching you and asking you to do a line or two from your years as Jan Brady, but that’s part of the deal you signed up for all those years ago while your 15 minutes of fame were ticking away. And now you want us to buy your shitty paintings. What you should have done during this talk show is mention how it’s been decades since your “Brady Bunch” stint and that you are always asked to say lines from this brief period of your life, adding how tiresome this can get at times. Then look at that audience member, give a wink and simply say those three repeated words your fans want to hear. Maybe then you would have been able to sell off some of your retarded art.
Side note: the actor who played Oliver is also born on the same day I was, just 12 years earlier. Weird.
My final stop on the channel surfing express came when I stumbled across C-Span’s “Washington Journal.” The reason I stopped here was because something caught my eye – it was the contact information listed at the bottom of the screen telling you what phone numbers to call to get on the show. During the Clinton Administration, C-Span started this gay policy where if you were a certain ideology you had to call a certain number to comment on the air. (RIGHT-WING MEDIA said this was because too many callers were getting through ragging on Bill Clinton.) Well, now the numbers are still segregated, but instead of “Democrats,” “Republicans,” and “Independents,” the phone numbers they had listed were “If you support Democrats,” “If you support the President,” and “Independents.” What about Republicans who don’t support the President? OMG MAINSTREAMLIBERALBIAS! I have no idea when this new phone number listing started. (I can't remember the last time I watched this show for more than three minutes.) The real reason I wanted to bring up “Washington Journal” is to reminisce about my all-time favorite moment on this show. Years ago when Newt Gingrich was still Speaker of the House, C-Span had this reporter on talking about some political issue of the day. This lady was obviously a liberal and had that holier-than-thou smugness many journalists have when covering politics; that kind of sideline jeering that no matter what a politician does it is the wrong decision and children will die. Anyway, this lady had something wrong with her teeth; I can't remember if she was wearing braces or if there was some wiring around her mouth, but it was obvious that she had spent quite a bit of time at a dentist’s office. This prompted an old lady to call in and berate this journalist for saying mean things about Newt. The caller then made a remark about this journalist’s teeth and hung up. In one fell swoop, some 80-year old from a red state shut up both the reporter (she looked like she was about to cry) and the “Washington Journal” host. Were the caller’s remarks mean-spirited? Sure. But they were also funny as hell.
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