Month: May 2011

Fast Food, Dogs, and American Idol: The Embracing of Pop Culture Mediocrity

A few years ago before I acquired my beautiful puppy Rocco I did a fair amount of  research. I read about different breeds, what to expect from his particular breed, different training techniques and theories, etc. One of the things I learned was that, for various reasons, it is unwise to feed a dog “people food”. And more interestingly, I discovered that dogs are perfectly happy with their own food. Whereas we humans…theoretically…prefer variety (it is the spice of life), dogs couldn’t possibly care less…they just want fed. This has proven quite accurate over the years, as Rocco still gets as excited over the same food that I’ve been feeding him since early on. I did switch brands once, and we made the leap from puppy formula to adult dog food at some point, but essentially he’s been eating the same meal for three years and loving it.

 

Conversely, I recall a trip I was on with a group from my church. I don’t remember what city we were in, but we were going to grab some dinner before the conference we were attending. Conveniently there was a Ryan’s right beside our hotel. The majority rules and I am not one to make waves, so I went along with the plan to eat there, but to be honest I was disappointed. There is a Ryan’s 10 minutes from my apartment at which I can eat anytime I want. When I go out of town I like to try something different, whether it be a local establishment or a chain that isn’t available in my hometown. I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself adventurous, but I do like to mix it up a little bit and venture out ever so gently onto a limb.

 

I realize that not everyone shares my quest for something unique. After all, one of the reasons chain restaurants and stores exist is because of their comfort and predictability. A Big Mac is the same whether you’re eating at a McDonald’s in West Virginia, Montana, New York, or Florida. If someone chloroformed a person and placed them inside a WalMart when that person woke up they wouldn’t immediately know whether they were in Washington DC or the state of Washington. This is convenient & reassuring, but it is also mundane & predictable. And I guess maybe that is what society prefers nowadays. Forget exceptional, eschew excellence, and shun singularity…just give us a tired retread of something familiar and comfortable.

 

This fact became crystal clear the past several weeks as I have been watching one of my guilty pleasures, American Idol. One by one the viewers have voted a person off until we finally got down to our final pair, and then the fans chose their champion. And in so doing the masses confirmed my suspicions.

 

Now let me be clear…I am well aware that everyone has different tastes in music, but that is not what this is about. I may prefer jazz, classic rock, and easy listening, while you may lean toward country, hip-hop, and gospel. That is fine by me. But that doesn’t mean we must settle for subpar quality within whatever genre we like. I love the fact that when I am listening to some of my favorite singers or bands I immediately know their sound. Whether it is Sinatra, Dean Martin, REO Speedwagon, The Eagles, Boston, Van Halen, James Taylor, or Garth Brooks even the most fair weather fans will instantly recognize those voices. Is there any singer in the world as distinctive as Bob Dylan?? Did Fleetwood Mac with Stevie Nicks sound like any other band out there in the 70’s & 80’s?? When you hear a Barry Manilow tune do you have trouble putting your finger on who exactly the artist is?? Do you wonder for even a second who is singing that song when the local radio station plays something by Tom Petty?? No, no, no, and no.

 

One of the things I have had to endure while keeping tabs on Idol these past few months is the vitriolic animosity toward third place finisher Haley Reinhart. I chose Haley as my darkhorse awhile back, predicting that she could possibly make it to the final three. I was absolutely correct. She has a soulful, bluesy vibe and I would buy a record of hers in a heartbeat. But the drumbeat of the soccer moms has been that she screeches and growls, and the hatred for the lovely Miss Reinhart has been stunning to me. It is amazing how some folks wouldn’t know true talent if it fixed them breakfast in bed and drove them to work every day. Meanwhile hacks like Justin Beiber, Miley Cyrus, and Katy Perry rake in millions of the public’s hard earned dollars by selling scrapple but convincing people it is filet mignon. It just doesn’t make any sense to this humble Potentate of Profundity.

 

I do not have anything against newly crowned Idol winner Scotty McCreery. He seems like a nice guy. He can sing. But when I close my eyes and listen to him I hear other voices…Clint Black, Randy Travis, George Strait, Brad Paisley, Kenny Chesney, and a plethora of other male country singers that are virtually indistinguishable from one another. It’s not that I completely hate country music…I don’t. I enjoy performers like Hank Williams Jr., Sugarland, Willie Nelson, Carrie Underwood, Travis Tritt, and Faith Hill. I like voices that stand out from the crowd. Scotty McCreery does not stand out from the crowd despite looking like the love child of Alfred E. Newman and Howdy Doody. I certainly do not wish any ill will, but I think I have food in my kitchen cupboards that may last longer than Scotty’s career. Meanwhile, contestants from this just concluded season like Lauren Alaina, James Durbin, Pia Toscano, Casey Abrams, and of course Haley Reinhart all have not only the tools for success but the extra…je ne sais quoi…to atleast carve out a worthwhile niche in the market. I may be wrong, I may be right, I may be crazy. Or I just might be the lunatic you’re not looking for.

 

At any rate, regardless of the long term prospects of American Idol contestants or even the questionable validity of the show itself, what I find thoroughly intriguing is how it seems to be symptomatic of an all-encompassing move toward mediocrity. Instead of quality we gravitate toward the lowest common denominator. Bookstores are filled with cookie cutter romance novels and uninspired mysteries. Our televisions broadcast dozens of copycat “reality” shows, cops n’ robbers stories, and blatant CSI ripoffs. Strip malls are filled with the aforementioned chain stores and restaurants. Movie theaters show an endless supply of sequels…even if the original wasn’t that good to begin with…because it is easier than coming up with an original idea. And rarely does a uniquely talented musician succeed unless they are willing to either conform or market themselves using some sort of gimmick, like Lady Gaga (who herself is just a Madonna wannabe).  I am honestly not trying to be critical. Live & let live and to each their own. But personally I will continue to look for new, interesting, and genuinely good things. If others are happy consuming the same old uninspired, uncreative, mass produced, bland “comfort food” every day that’s their prerogative. It seems to work for my dog.

 

 

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Random Factoids, Or Getting To Know The Godfather of Cyberspace

I am not normally one to follow the crowd, but this seemed like a fun little challenge. It’s been a meme on Facebook for years, but my buddy Slack was my true inspiration. I’ve chosen 38 because that’s my age. This stuff may be interesting to only me, but maybe…just maybe…citizens of The Manoverse will enjoy getting to know your humble Potentate of Profundity just a little better.

 

 

 

1          I’ve never been to the beach or flown in an airplane. I hope to do both sometime relatively soon.

2          My guilty pleasures: Dancing with the Stars, professional wrestling, American Idol, and soap operas.


3          I went to a Starbucks once. That same day I rented videos from Blockbuster. I’ve never been back to either establishment. Just because something is expensive doesn’t mean it’s good.


4          In 1977 I became the first “mainstreamed” handicap child in my county. However, the powers-that-be still made me attend both a “normal” kindergarten and a class for “special” children. On the 2nd day at the “special” school the teacher called to tell my Mom that I was not mentally impaired, to which my Mom replied “I know that, but try convincing the Board of Education”. Not only was I not impaired but a few years later I was found to be gifted. Unfortunately I’ve gotten dumber over the years.

5          My initials are my name – S A M

6          I rarely wear long sleeves, even in winter…except for dress shirts. Short sleeve dress shirts look tacky.

7          Both my father and a teacher in junior high told me I should be a writer. I regret not listening to them and following that path professionally, although I suppose The Manofesto is some small morsel of redemption.


8          I liked both incarnations of Van Halen, with David Lee Roth and Sammy Hagar. I don’t really count the brief Gary Cherone era.

9          Zippers frustrate me.

10       I played trombone in the band from 6th thru 12th grades. I sold my instrument 2 weeks after graduating. I wanted to play trumpet at first, but because I am sitting down all the time in a wheelchair I couldn’t really get enough wind going, so my grade school band instructor suggested trombone. It was fun, but it’s not exactly a party instrument.

11       I know very little about cars except how to drive one, and I’m not especially good at that.

12       I was once defeated in billiards by a man who was legally blind. Seriously.


13       My preferred liquor of choice was always vodka. I was never one to drink anything straight, and fruity drinks like screwdrivers or sex-on-the-beach were more my style. I am a beer snob as well…no Bud Light or Coors for this guy. However, these days I can usually be found partaking of an ice cold glass of milk, a bottle of water, or a tall glass of iced tea.


14       I sang in two talent shows in grade school. In 2nd or 3rd grade (I don’t recall exactly which year) I sang Sandy from the Grease soundtrack. In 4th or 5th grade (that fuzzy memory again) I sang Love in the First Degree by country supergroup Alabama. I didn’t win either time…atleast I don’t recall if I did.

15       I rarely wear white because I inevitably spill something on it.

16       I was ambidextrous as a child but had a teacher that “broke me” of it, as if it were a bad habit like sniffing glue or watching Pauley Shore movies. I am now right handed.


17       The infomercial for SlapChop is hysterically funny to me.


18       I really love fantasy football. Fantasy baseball…not so much.

19       I never learned how to swim or whistle.

20       I don’t particularly care for coconut or sprinkles.

21       In college I took a Shakespeare class and really rather enjoyed it. Surprisingly I found it much more interesting than my Psychology of Sex class.

22       I own a Kindle, but I still prefer the feel of a good old-fashioned book in my hand.

23       Coffee doesn’t really keep me awake.

24       I adore everything about Christmas…the lights, the music, the movies, the smells, the food, the familial togetherness, the wistful nostalgia that makes me want to be a kid again, and of course, the fact that my Lord & Savior was born and eventually died and rose again to wash away my sin.


25       My paternal great grandparents…my grandfather’s parents…both came to West Virginia separately from San Giovanni i Fiore in Calabria, Italy in the early 1900’s. There is a rumor that my great grandfather killed a man in New York before coming to WV, but nobody knows for sure.


26       Thunderstorms scared the daylights out of me as a child, but now I rather enjoy them.

27       I have had 27 surgical procedures. The first when I was a newborn, the latest when I was 35 years old. Oddly enough I still have my tonsils though.

28       Inevitably after surgery I was placed on a liquid or semi-liquid diet. To this day I don’t really like popsicles or sherbet because they bring back bad hospital memories.

29       The best concerts I have ever seen: Boston at Star Lake Amphitheater in Pittsburgh, Van Halen at the Charleston (WV) Civic Center, REO Speedwagon at the Huntington (WV) Regatta, The Eagles at Polaris Amphitheater in Columbus, OH, and Kansas at the Veterans Memorial Amphitheater in Clarksburg, WV.

30       Grapes and grape products cause me…intestinal issues, as does anything with heat, i.e. peppers, hot sauce, cayenne pepper, etc.

31       I have a strange fascination with pens and office products.

32         Movies I have never seen: Citizen Kane, 2/3 of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, On the Waterfront, Schindler’s List, The Matrix, The Big Lebowski, and the Indiana Jones series.

33       I have an irrational dislike of the number 3 and its multiples.


34       My two dream vacations are Las Vegas and Italy. I once had a “Christian” friend say to me that “I don’t know if I’d want to be walking down The Strip in Vegas when Jesus returns”. He & I don’t talk anymore, because I may want to see Wayne Newton and The Fountains at Bellagio, but atleast I have never…well, you know what…never mind. Let’s just say I know my strengths & weaknesses, and I am quite comfortable with my choice of potential leisure destinations.


35       I am not a huge fan of most seafood, but I dig sushi.

36       Speaking of which, fishing bores me, as do video games.

37       When writing anything in the form of a question I use double question marks. It’s just my thing.

38       Little things that make me smile: Snuggling with my puppy…he’s so soft, warm, and cuddly. A glass of iced tea & a gentle breeze on a warm summer day. A big win by my favorite teams – Pittsburgh Steelers, Marshall Thundering Herd, & WV Mountaineers. The aroma of Italian food. A really restful night’s sleep, even if I have my usual Wacky Dreams. Puns. Getting really into a fun & interesting book. People who do funny spot-on impressions. Deep philosophical discussions with my brother The Owl. Anything with BBQ sauce. Nascar night races. What my pal Marc calls “sippin’ music”, i.e simple, stripped down jazz or blues without a lot of extra effects. When it’s still daylight at 8pm. Trivia. Laughter, whether it is my own or someone else’s. Dessert. Nakey Time at The Bachelor Palace…even if I’m alone (which is always). Taking a really good picture. A woman with a beautiful smile, regardless of whether or not she knows I exist (she usually doesn’t). Watching golf on TV, especially the final round of a major. Getting a haircut. Popcorn & chocolate covered peanuts while watching a movie in the theater. When a really kickass song comes on the radio while I’m driving.


 

I’ll Never Walk Alone…or with Anyone Else

Nostalgia is defined as a sentimental yearning for a return to the happiness of some past period or irrecoverable condition, a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one’s life, to one’s home or homeland, or to one’s family and friends. The word itself is a merger of the Greek words for homecoming, nostos, and pain, algos. This painful longing was thought to be a medical condition called melancholy in 16th century Europe, a disorder treated with some combination of song & dance and herbs, which reminds me of college. In modern America nostalgia isn’t a disease, it’s a cottage industry. At any rate, I can be a sentimental, wistful, nostalgic sort of guy, the kind that probably remembers my childhood as far more idyllic that it really was and fondly recalls almost everything, from movies, music, and television to political candidates, automobiles, and restaurants as being far superior “back in the day” to their contemporary counterparts. Sometimes that is indeed the case, and sometimes not. Either way it’s a matter of opinion, right??

This train of thought came barreling down the tracks of my mind after the recent announcement that Jerry Lewis is retiring from his MDA Telethon after this year. The telethon has been a Labor Day tradition since 1966…six years before I was born. Not only that, but the show is being shortened from 20+ hours to just six hours. Instead of starting Sunday night immediately following the local news and being on all night and all day on Labor Day it will now be on from 6pm-Midnight Sunday night. Can it even be called The Jerry Lewis MDA Labor Day Telethon if neither Jerry nor Labor Day are involved in the equation?? It is probably a moot point, because without Lewis I assume the whole thing will be scrapped eventually. Maybe the powers-that-be will atleast wait until Jerry is gone from this mortal coil before chloroforming his greatest contribution to the world…or not.

I am not sure why this news has had such an effect on me. I have seen countless television shows that I dearly loved (The Dukes of Hazzard, Cheers, Dallas, Seinfeld, etc.) become just a memory over the course of my lifetime. I am far from a technophobe, so I have happily embraced new technologies while watching old ones (landline phones, cassette tapes, Atari, ginormous floor model tube televisions) be relegated to historical artifacts. Even as a child…a child with a disability…I wondered what was so special about muscular dystrophy that it had its own telethon. It has always seemed odd to me that we didn’t put on such a spectacle to find the cure for cancer or heart disease or diabetes. Jerry Lewis is 85 years old and has been in bad health for about the last dozen years, so on an intellectual level one knows it had to end sometime. And it’s not as if the telethon has been high quality entertainment all these years. Tony Orlando hasn’t been relevant for three decades. Norm Crosby has been insignificant for even longer. I couldn’t possibly care less about Billy Gilman or Jann Carl. Ed McMahon was fun but he’s dead. Casey Kasem was cool but not that cool. But still I watch…and it makes me sad to see it end.

Maybe it’s because it has literally always been a part of my life. As much as I loved my cheesy 80’s TV I remember life before those shows, which realistically have always had a short shelf life…even the very best of them…of 5-10 years. Jerry’s telethon was already an annual ritual by the time I came into existence.

Maybe it’s because, as kitschy as it is, the telethon is a one-of-a-kind event. There is literally nothing else like it on television. So many shows, movies, and music are derivative of something better, and there is some basis for comparison, whether it be positive or negative. The telethon is an entity unto itself, and once it is gone we’ll never capture its singular cachet again. Something things are disposable, whereas some are irreplaceable.

Or maybe…just maybe…I have simply gotten to “that age”. I am not old by most definitions, but I have been around awhile. The Jerry Lewis Labor Day Telethon, as insignificant as it is in the grand scheme of life, is another example of something that is going away, leaving my life…dying. Like the soap operas that are my guilty pleasure but are now steadily disappearing, the various shops & restaurants of my youth that have faded away in favor of something hipper and fresher, the classic performers like Sinatra, Johnny Carson, Dale Earnhardt, John Candy, and The Junkyard Dog that are now six feet under, or erstwhile traditions like It’s A Wonderful Life being shown on TV every 5 minutes during the Christmas season, Saturday morning cartoons, $2/gallon gasoline, glass pop bottles, giving candy to dozens of trick-or-treaters on Halloween night, the U.S. space program, Dairy Queen only being open in the summer, paper bags at the grocery store, styrofoam containers at McDonald’s, and radio stations with legitimately good music, the telethon will soon take its place on the pop culture scrap heap, an embodiment of my own mortality and the steady drumbeat of time slipping into the mist.

Or maybe I dig Jann Carl more than I realized.

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100 Favorite Movies…..#2

As we reach the penultimate selection on the list of 100, I want to take a moment to thank anyone & everyone who has perused this series, whether you’ve stuck with me the whole way or just checked out an entry here and there. When the idea struck me to do this I originally thought it’d take a couple months at the most. Now here we are just about two years later, and I am kind of glad it has taken me this long, not only because I’ve seized the opportunity to write other things along the way, but also because I have enjoyed taking the time to fully digest what I find entertaining. I already knew I liked comedies and sports & Christmas movies, but in the past couple of years I have self-discovered a few other things. I like action movies better than I once did, as long as there is good character development (Lethal Weapon) and some humor thrown into the mix between the flying bullets (Die Hard). While I am not necessarily one for the traditional tearjerker, I do appreciate a certain level of poignancy and thoughtfulness (Field of Dreams, Cast Away). I love to laugh, but lean toward intelligent, well written comedy (Big, Office Space, Best in Show) rather than sophomoric hijinx.  I don’t think I fully grasped the genius of John Hughes (National Lampoon’s Vacation, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, The Breakfast Club, and several others) until long after my teen years. Really great movies don’t go out of style (Casablanca, Rocky, Jaws, Star Wars, Vertigo), they age like a good bottle of scotch. I think the perfect movie would have an ensemble cast of Tom Hanks, Robin Williams, William Shatner, Meg Ryan, Kevin Spacey, Al Pacino, Kevin Costner, and Jimmy Stewart (if he were still alive). The screenplay would be written by the aforementioned Hughes and directed by Robert Zemeckis. And while Hollywood falls all over themselves trying to produce either audibly obnoxious special effects blockbusters starring pretty people with no chops that are impressive but don’t leave a lasting impression or overly pompous message films that seem to imply that having a plethora of British actors with an air of gravitas equals quality regardless of the fact that those of us in flyover country won’t be the least bit excited to catch such a pretentious snoozefest on some random cable channel on a rainy weekend afternoon three years down the road, the truth is that the best films, atleast in The Manoverse, are quieter, more minimalist offerings (Twelve Angry Men, Goobye Mr. Chips) that are well written (Glengarry Glen Ross), utilize performers that everyone will remember with fondness for decades to come (Planes, Trains, & Automobiles), and never fail to put a smile on my face (Father of the Bride I & II) or ensnare my heart with a warm glow (A Christmas Story, It’s A Wonderful Life).

All of which brings us to the #2 film on the list. It brings to the table a potpourri of everything I love. It makes me happy, it makes me sad, it makes me ponder. It is drama, comedy, a wee bit of action, and a look at history far more interesting than what we learned in school. The soundtrack is amazing, and the cast superb. It can be viewed through the prism of pure entertainment, or analyzed as an allegory full of symbolism and social commentary. Much like Field of Dreams, it is a film that I would love to have conceptualized and written myself, and have tremendous respect for those that did. This movie has vaulted to the top partly because of repeated viewings. It is on television a lot, and when it is on I cannot turn the channel. Even my Dad is mesmerized by it, and trust me…my father isn’t captivated by much.

I am speaking of the 1994 Robert Zemeckis/Tom Hanks collaboration Forrest Gump, the story of an intellectually challenged boy growing up in 1950’s Alabama. Though Forrest isn’t intelligent by academic standards (he has an IQ of 70, just above the mentally retarded line), he seems to have a mix of common sense, loyalty, and genuine empathy that allows him to make his way in the world just fine. We get to follow Forrest from grade school all the way through high school, college, and into adulthood. Along the way Gump has a lot of interesting adventures…he motivates a young Elvis Presley to dance, plays college football for the legendary Bear Bryant, innocently ignores Governor George Wallace’s attempt to stop desegregation at the University of Alabama, earns the Medal of Honor and a Purple Heart after saving the lives of most of his platoon in Vietnam, speaks at an anti-war rally (in full uniform) on The Mall in DC alongside Abbie Hoffman, hangs out with The Black Panthers, sets off the Watergate scandal with a phone call, visits China as a world class ping pong player, meets Presidents Kennedy, Johnson, & Nixon, gives John Lennon the lyrics for the song Imagine while appearing on The Dick Cavett Show, survives Hurricane Carmen becoming a shrimping mogul in the process, converts his shrimping money into billions of dollars by investing in Apple Computers, and jogs back & forth across the country multiple times while inspiring the motto “Shit Happens” and the ubiquitous Smiley Face logo with its slogan “Have A Nice Day”. That’s quite a full life for anyone, let alone a person considered to be…well…an idiot. In the midst of this very interesting life we also meet the people who help Forrest Gump become the person he becomes – his mother, a single woman whose homespun wisdom and instructions to “never let anyone tell you that you’re different” form the foundation of her son’s unaffected outlook…Jenny, the loyal, non-judgmental friend Forrest meets in grade school and loves for the rest of her life…Bubba, the almost equally simpleminded Army pal that teaches Forrest all about the shrimping business…and Lt. Dan, the superior officer whose life Forrest saves in Vietnam and who eventually becomes his “first mate”.

Out of this supporting cast it is Jenny who is most fascinating, and it is the love story of Forrest & Jenny that is at the heart of the film. Jenny’s mother died when she was very young and she is abused and presumably molested by her alcoholic father as a little girl. As an adult she becomes a stripper then a hippie, sleeping with random men and using drugs all the while. I’m no psychologist, but even though we don’t get an in depth glimpse into Jenny’s home life (the movie, afterall, is about Forrest) we can surmise that her abusive situation leads to extremely low self-esteem and an understandably skewed perspective. We all know that, under normal circumstances, a pretty girl like Jenny would never give a simpleton like Forrest the time of day, but because of her situation a genuinely good-hearted soul like him becomes her rock. In a way he saves her life as much as he saves Lt. Dan’s.

The parallel stories of Jenny & Forrest represent, for some, the Two Americas that so many politicians have campaigned about. He is the clean cut, All-American football player, war hero, and successful businessman with a kind disposition and solid values. She is sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll…an embodiment of the 60’s counterculture that, through the prism of history, has lost a lot of its romantic luster and is often viewed as the beginning of the internal destruction of our nation. I don’t know if this was intentional by the filmmakers or Winston Groom, the author of the original novel, but I am not sure it’s all that important anyway. Lots of books and movies can be examined for sociopolitical meaning or spin, and that can be fun and interesting. But I am just not one to get caught up in paralysis by analysis. I look at Forrest Gump as being original, well written, and tremendously entertaining. It is thought provoking, slightly philosophical, and poignant without going over-the-top into maudlin tearjerker territory. That’s enough for me, but if one chooses to read some sort of deep significance into every scene or snippet of dialogue have at it…the material is there.

The performances in this film are nothing short of magnificent. Tom Hanks won a well-deserved second consecutive Oscar for Best Actor. Hanks is so good that while watching the movie one is not watching an actor portray a role…Tom Hanks IS Forrest Gump. Gary Sinise, who was largely an unknown at the time other than a nice turn as George in an adaptation of John Steinbeck’s Of Mice & Men alongside John Malkovich, portrays Lt. Dan as a bitter cripple searching for answers after Forrest denies him his destiny of dying on the battlefield. Sinise was robbed at the Academy Awards, losing the Best Supporting Actor statue to Martin Landau for his turn as Bela Lugosi in Ed Wood. Landau also beat Samuel L. Jackson, who was nominated for his role in Pulp Fiction. At any rate, Forrest Gump made me a Gary Sinise fan, and he continues to be one of the most underrated actors today. Sally Field, only 10 years older than Hanks, plays Momma Gump in what may have been one of the most underappreciated roles of her career. For me it is a performance that ranks right up there with more acclaimed ones in Norma Rae (for which she won a best Actress Oscar), Smokey & the Bandit, and Steel Magnolias. Mykelti Williamson hasn’t done much since Forrest Gump, but tell me you don’t hear his voice in your head every time someone is talking about shrimp (“Shrimp is the fruit of the sea. You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, saute it. Dey’s uh…shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried. There’s pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich…”). And finally there is Robin Wright, whose portrayal of Jenny evokes sadness & sympathy in such a way that one never stops rooting for her no matter how many wrong turns she seems to take. Wright too was overlooked by the Oscar folks, which is a shame. Forrest Gump was unquestionably the best performance of her career.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the music. Forrest Gump utilizes tunes from the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s, ending up with what is a truly awesome soundtrack. Elvis, The Doors, CCR, Bob Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Jimi Hendrix…and so much more. I am a big believer in the power of music making a huge difference in a movie, and here there is no doubt that it greatly enhances the experience. Sometimes it is an original score, like the theme for Jaws. Or existing songs can be used to evoke a mood and embody a certain time period, such as Saturday Night Fever, The Big Chill, or Footloose. The latter is the case here. Would the writing and the performances qualify Forrest Gump as a great film regardless?? Probably. But the outstanding music adds an important layer that takes the film from extremely good to transcendent.

The writing in Forrest Gump is like a great chess match. It is three moves ahead of the viewer at all times, setting you up for a checkmate you never see coming. There is great drama, but then there will be a scene or a line of dialogue that makes me laugh. I suppose this might keep folks uncomfortably off balance in 9 out of 10 movies, but this is the rare occasion where it works. I chuckle every time I see young Forrest listening to his mother…ummm…convince the school principal to let Forrest attend. Or when Lt. Dan, in the midst of a very powerful soliloquy about salvation asks Forrest if he has found Jesus and he sincerely replies that he didn’t know he was supposed to be looking for Him. But then before one can even stop smiling there is inevitably an introspective moment that gives one pause. There are two scenes near the end of the film that I am convinced won Hanks the Academy Award. The first is when Forrest finds out that Jenny has given birth to a now school age child and that he is the father. Overcome with emotion the first thing he asks is if the child is smart, with the implication being that he is very well aware of his own mental deficiencies. It is an extremely powerful moment…maybe one of the most moving scenes in the history of film. The second is when Jenny dies, ostensibly from HIV/AIDS, and Forrest is talking to her grave. That scene in the hands of any other performer may be cliché and overly melodramatic, but Tom Hanks hits just the right note of perfection. It is a breathtaking sequence.

Forrest Gump, much like the sociopolitical divide it may or may not represent, is black & white for many people. Some adore it, some think it detestable. I am not sure why the haters hate, but I think they are missing out. As for myself, I have grown to adore this film and have watched it countless times. It is everything a great movie should be and more. And that’s all I have to say about that.

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Osama, Obama, & The Dalai Lama

I can sometimes be a bit reactionary, which is why I have learned over the years to contemplate my thoughts for a bit…cool the engines, so to speak. There are still occassions when I express instantaneous, raw, unfiltered emotion, sometimes regretfully so. I’m working on it. But in the meantime, I always try to maintain some level of considerate decorum here at The Manofesto, which is why I decided not to immediately go off half-cocked and fire out a missive about the capture and…elimination…of Osama Bin Laden. I wanted to ponder for a day or two. In the midst of that ponderation a couple of interesting things have risen to the surface.

 

First of all, let me say God Bless America and our military. It’s hard to find any kind of silver lining in the events of September 11, 2001, but if I was forced to come up with something I would point out that over the past decade the level of respect & admiration for men in all manner of uniform…police, firefighters, soldiers…has risen sharply. As a whole I think maybe we sort of took those folks for granted pre-9/11, which is unfortunate. I hope the veneration now given to the people who literally put their lives on the line every day to protect & defend our freedom and safety remains constant. Those individuals should always be held in the highest regard.

 

I want to focus on two things that have occurred in all the celebratory commotion surrounding the long awaited capture and demise of Bin Laden, one of which makes me angry, the other which makes me think and evaluate my own thought process.

 

I was at work on the evening that the news broke. A co-worker received a text saying that Osama Bin Laden was dead. I had been crazy busy the entire evening but at that point was able to hop online and get the scoop. I was as pleased and proud as anyone. A couple of hours later I was able to watch the ongoing news coverage in the relative comfort of The Bachelor Palace. It was then that I finally saw President Barack Hussein Obama’s original press conference.

 

My disdain for the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue is well known to my friends and family, many of whom disagree with my opinions. The President’s announcement was unsurprisingly peppered with “I”, “Me”, and “My”. He subtly inferred that the hunt for Bin Laden only began once he took office. As if Mr. Obama’s own self-importance wasn’t enough, the public then chimed in. The “mainstream” drive-by media…predictably…fell to their knees to fellatiate their President, as if he had singlehandedly captured Bin Laden and brought him to justice. The “ladies” of The View said there was no use to even have an election in 2012, that no Republican would be able to defeat Obama after this heroic feat. The general public was even worse. I spend a lot of time online and some of the posts I saw on Facebook and other places were horrifying. Obama was suddenly a cross between Chuck Norris and Abraham Lincoln, with enough tiger blood and Adonis DNA to make Charlie Sheen shake like Michael J. Fox at a Justin Bieber concert. Obama’s arrogance combined with the senseless adoration of the masses is a lethal cocktail of aggravation. Throw in abject hatred for former President George W. Bush & conservatives in general and pepper in a skosh of imaginary racism (because if one disagrees with Barack Hussein Obama that person MUST be a racist according to the liberal playbook), and what you have is a nation divided. On one side are those who swoon at the mere mention of the man’s name, like “journalist” Chris Matthews, who once said that Obama sent a thrill up his leg, and the infamous Peggy Joseph, who attended a campaign rally in 2008 and said she was excited because Obama was going to pay her gas bill & mortgage. On the other side are thinking Americans who have some legitimate concerns about the man’s beliefs, policies, and leadership capabilities. People are disturbed by a floundering economy, out of control spending, the growth of the federal government and its role in everyday life, high unemployment, gas prices that seem to rise almost daily, and other various issues. I am willing to have an intelligent discussion with anyone about authentic differences of opinion, but I will not give heed to mindless hero worship, especially when it is far from deserved.

 

The manhunt for Osama Bin Laden began soon after 9/11, and it was President George W. Bush who laid the groundwork. The same people who are putting Obama on a pedestal today are the ones who have been eviscerating Bush for over a decade for The War on Terror. You can’t have it both ways ladies & gentlemen. Did Obama give the final order greenlighting the raid on Bin Laden’s compound?? Yes, and kudos to him for that. But let us not forget that it was a moment that would never have been possible without many courageous decisions made by Bush years before. As more information emerges we are learning that information from “detainees” at Guantanamo Bay, gotten using “enhanced interrogation techniques”, ultimately lead to Osama Bin Laden sleeping with the fishes. This is the same Guantanamo Bay that liberals have wanted to shut down almost since Day 1 and that Obama originally stated he would close as one of the first acts of his presidency, and the same interrogation, i.e. “torture”, which the Left has been whining about for years. So while Obama worshipers around the globe are sticking out their puffed up chests and beaming with pride about what The Chosen One has accomplished, we all need to realize that what he has really done is hop in the car on the white flag lap and claim he won the race. I applaud The Obama Administration for understanding the importance and fundamental necessity of the foundation laid by their predecessors and for not kowtowing to the extremists in their base constituency, but I wholeheartedly reject the idea that we should have such rock star awe for any politician, especially when he has spent the past 3 years showing utter disdain for the very framework that eventually lead to the event for which he is now receiving enormous praise.

 

The more fascinating thing to arise from the death of Osama Bin Laden is the apparent moral ambiguity felt by some. As thousands of Americans took to the streets in Washington DC, Times Square in New York, and various other locales, others were feeling just a wee bit uncomfortable about celebrating a man’s death, even a man as undeniably evil as Bin Laden. Some have said it was too reminiscent of how the streets of towns in The Middle East  were filled with revelers thrilled about 9/11. I’ve seen quotes from Martin Luther King Jr., The Bible, and various other sentiments that basically say it is wrong to rejoice in a person’s death, regardless of who that person was and what they’d done. There are debates about whether it was murder or justice.

 

At first I was quite dismissive of this thought process, but I have since paused for reflection. My initial gut reaction was “HELL Yes!! We got that bastard!! USA!! USA!!”. To be quite honest I still lean in that direction. This is a man that masterminded a plot responsible for the senseless slaughter of over 3000 Americans. I tend to try to see the good in most people, but I liken Osama Bin Laden to Michael Myers from the Halloween movies…pure evil. I therefore don‘t really have any sympathy for the man nor am I inclined to feel one iota of remorse about his death. However, I am also a Christian (just not a very good one) and have an appreciation for philosophy, so I understand on an intellectual level why some feel the way they do, and I will even concede that they are probably better, nicer people than me. I have a lot of respect for their opinion, even if I disagree. There is a fine line between justice and revenge, and under most circumstances seeing large crowds lustily partying because of a man’s death would be a cause for concern. This is America…we ARE better than that. But the particulars of the situation are so unique that I cannot take issue with the joy expressed at the end of this long journey. I would like to think that the families of those killed in the World Trade Center, at the Pentagon, and in a field in Shanksville, PA now have some sense of closure. Nothing will ever bring their loved ones back, and the death of Osama Bin Laden may seem like a bit of a Pyrrhic victory, but it is right and it is just. To those who take exception to the jubilance, I can only say that I get it, I admire your morality, and I hope someday folks like you become a bigger influence not only in my life but in the world as a whole.

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