The Show About Nothing

Masters of their Domains

Apologies for my long absence; I was on vacation in France for a week. I usually don't do personal bio material as blog topics, but a French trip report may be forthcoming (if Walgreens can get me those pictures!).

In the meantime, we'll talk about the "Show About Nothing". Seinfeld is #2 on my ranking, and the only thing that tipped it toward Lucy was probably sentimentality. In the first season, Seinfeld centered around Jerry and his career as a standup comic. The other 3 characters, Elaine, George and Kramer were really secondary at that point, in 1989. The show was cute, but not phenomenal. By season two, it became truly an ensemble cast where each character deliciously honed his or her neurosis and other characters came in to the mix. Seinfeld was able to explore the fear, trepidation and insecurities of four dysfunctional New Yorkers, who in some ways typify all of us. The insecurities would snowball, and crescendo into outrageously insane antics. Cases in point:

- a small dot on a new white sweater
- a boyfriend who fails to use an exclamation point on a birth announcement
- a boss who eats a Snickers bar with a knife and fork
- a girlfriend who always wears the same dress, or won't share your dessert
- a parking space that's too good to give up
- a girlfriend who once dated your gruesome acquaintance

Jerry went thru a hundred beautiful girls, ditching each (or getting ditched) over neurotically perceived peccadilloes. There's the masseuse who wouldn't give him a massage and then there's the woman who's name Jerry forgot, but it rhymed with a female body part (was it "Mulva"?). The hapless George tried too hard to get the girl (e.g., wearing a wedding band to seem unobtainable) but always landed flat on his face. Elaine was always exasperated at the absurdness of someone else's behavior but not mindful of her own inanity (e.g., ordering Chinese takeout to be delivered to a broom closet across the street, to remain within the delivery area). Kramer was in some ways the culmination of it all, a silly tousled hair man, who would take life an hour of impulsive giddiness at a time.

Already the ingredients were so fine; add Jerry and George's parents to the mix; an uncle who steals magazines, a portly unkempt postal worker for a neighbor and a J. Peterman boss who's missing a couple of screws. There you have it! The finest mix that exists in sitcomland. George's parents, in particular were hilarious. The "man-siere" episode in which Kramer and George's dad (Jerry Stiller) try to develop a bra for men with sagging boobs was a classic. The whiny mother could not have been better; she was a delight whether she caught the men wearing a bra, or caught her son in an act of self-gratification. Speaking of which, Seinfeld was excellent with word play. "Master of his domain" and "not that there's anything wrong with that" are now ingrained in our language. The show was nothing if not innovative with words and phrases that continue to amuse 8 years after the show went off the air. If you don't agree, well you'll have to "stuff your sorries in a sack".

Lastly, what impressed me, was the way that unrelated zany plot lines could be woven together in a final scene. Like "It's a Mad, Mad World" the show would take ridiculous zigs and zags, making every zig and zag collide together at the end in wonderful lunacy. The show was fast-paced, and in some ways had movie values in a TV medium (e.g., frequent scene changes, frequent set changes). You didn't get bored, and the shows stand up to repeat viewing. You need to catch every setup that you missed the first viewing. The show about nothing was, in fact, about everything. It seized on the trivia of life that can drive us into an obsessive-compulsive disorder; it took Jerry's observational style of comedy and mined it for a gazillion laughs, laughs that are as fresh now for syndication viewers as they were 10 years ago.

(This article is dedicated to my friend Al - a master of his domain and of Seinfeld)

Loving Lucy

You've got some 'splainin' to do 

Before I dive into I Love Lucy, let me explain some of the reasoning behind my ranking: I Love Lucy, Seinfeld, Mary Tyler Moore and All in the Family. All these shows are excellent, and if you go by particular criteria, the ranking changes entirely. But since we're talking about situation comedy, I'm placing the emphasis on laugh-out-loud funny, and my first two shows (Lucy and Seinfeld) fulfill that handily.

Now, about Lucy. I once read a humor magazine that defined "camp" as "seriousness that has failed". Like pornography, you may not be able to define it, but you know it when you see it. Sometimes it's a seriousness that's intended to fail. What can you say of a show about a Cuban band leader, his dazzling red-headed stage-struck wife, and hammy upstairs middle-aged neighbors that used to be in Vaudeville? I Love Lucy was expertly cast, expertly written, and had a premise that can elicit laughs all by itself. Most people recall the slapstick: Lucy with her head stuck in a trophy cup, Lucy in the chocolate factory, Lucy stomping grapes in Italy. Lucille Ball herself always recalled the chocolate factory as one of her favorite episodes. But what made the show funny to me was the witty repartee:

"She looks more like a witch than I do".
"She has a pretty big 'potamus".
"You take care of the beef, I'll take care of the ham".
"You'd think somebody orders a 500 pound fish every five minutes!"


We're going to Hollywood! 

Then, endless fun was had with Ricky's accent: "Looocy, you've got some 'splainin' to do!". Some people thought Desi Arnaz did too much bug-eyed overacting, but I thought he was a perfect foil, and excellent counterpoint to his manic wife. William Frawley was perfect as the skinflint Fred Mertz, and Vivian Vance was a perfect, good-sport sidekick for Lucy. This show is one where everything came together: writing, directing, casting and acting. Most shows nowadays will have an Achilles heel on at least one of those factors. I Love Lucy was one of the first shows out of the gate, but established some ideas used to this day: video taping for syndication, 3-camera filming, celebrity cameos for ratings boost. Lucy, herself, was spectacular. A statuesque redheaded, former Goldwyn girl in her early 40's, she could've lived off royalties from her earlier "B" movie career. When her TV show began, she saw it as a fun extension of a radio gig she'd already been doing. Neither she (nor anyone else) saw what a phenomenon her TV show or TV itself would come to be. Lucy herself was phenomenal because she would unself-consiously throw herself into any role: cowboy, masseur, pizza maker, vamp. She could do it all with believability and panache.

The show did have a long run, and appeared to fade in quality in the final season where the Ricardos and Mertz's moved to the suburbs in Connecticut. The out-of-control silliness gave way to conventional, flat sitcom dialog. Worth noting: Lucy had 2 followup series in the 60's and 70's. The Lucy Show and Here's Lucy. Both tried to borrow from I Love Lucy somewhat, but the thrill was gone. She attempted another one in the 80's that barely made it past pilot stage. Interesting also, because other sitcom luminaries have had trouble making lightening strike twice. The closest ever was Bob Newhart who had two long-running, successful series.

I Love Lucy, like Chevrolet, apple pie and the Statue of Liberty, is a permanent piece of Americana. Like Seinfeld that came 40 years later, dialog and plot lines from the show drifted into popular culture and people could refer to certain episodes as a shared reference point. It's a testament to I Love Lucy's staying power that a half century later, people still mimic "Vitametavegamin" and they still love Lucy.

A Stroll Down Sitcom Lane

Stay tuned ... 

My all-time favorite sitcoms are (in approximately this order): I Love Lucy, Seinfeld, The Mary Tyler Moore Show and All in the Family. There are many runner ups; The Bob Newhart Show was in the same family as MTM; Love that Bob had some of the same charms as I Love Lucy. But the shows I selected above were 1st in their respective categories, and still hold a special place with viewers of syndication, Nick at Nite or TV Land.

The 50's gave us many good shows, and another one of my favorites is Leave It To Beaver. The show puts a 20th century spin on "Huckleberry Finn" and offers some excellent 50's pop culture; it's a piece of American pie. But Beaver had its adult characters a bit too ersatz and pristine to be believable. The other 50's comedies, while funny, were not any more inventive or nearly as funny as Lucy was. The 1960's, oddly, gave us mostly gimmick sitcoms like Bewitched and Petticoat Junction. Two that weren't so gimmicky are The Andy Griffith Show and Dick Van Dyke. Both of these were excellent in certain respects, but I don't make any note to circle them in TV Guide, or stop what I'm doing to watch. The 70's were a schizoid decade that gave us the social realism of Norman Lear and also wacky offerings such as Laverne and Shirley and Three's Company. All in the Family and MTM broke the ice and allowed TV to broach sensitive topics (e.g., racism, abortion, politics) and to develop genuine character-based (as opposed to situation-based) comedy.

The 1980's gave us at least two really good shows, Cheers and Taxi, but neither was particularly new or earth-shattering in its scope. Both found humor in ordinary situations, ordinary people (like the MTM series) and helped us thru a decade that was otherwise schmaltzified w/ shows like Family Ties and Facts of Life. If you care to count animated series, The Simpsons is unbeatable for its capturing of the hapless, lowbrow Homer and his family. Roseanne was a fresh look at a working class family in Lanford, Illinois but badly "jumped the shark" when it showed the family winning a lottery in the last season. A lot of people liked Cosby but I didn't think the Huxtables (or even the family surname) were very credible. The 90's of course gave us the manic and magnificent Seinfeld. Honorable mention might go to Everybody Loves Raymond, Ellen, King of the Hill, King of Queens , Murphy Brown and even Designing Women. Friends was watched by many, but it seems like a soapy, poor imitation of Seinfeld to me. For the cable blessed, Sex and the City blazed some new trails with its wild and yet sensitive portrayal of four Manhattan single women.

The pantheon of four programs listed in my opening sentence represent the first in their respective classes, and loom large in our minds. Maude was arguably as funny as All in the Family, but it came later, appealing to a smaller audience. Many shows have borrowed from the beautiful, interpersonal simplicity of MTM (eg, Cheers, Raymond) but nobody has captured it as well. My four favorite programs deserve much more attention, and in future articles (maybe not all right away) I'd like to review them individually. Exactly why do I love Lucy??? Stay tuned. :-)

Money, Money, Money

If you're so smart, why aren't you rich? 

My Father was a very bright man - he was a mathematician and taught calculus at the Air Force Academy, among other places. He could give any proof, axiom or postulate at the drop of a hat. He also had a pretty good handle on physics, chemistry, history and philosophy. My mother would ask him (partly in jest, partly in earnest), "If you're so smart, why aren't you rich?" He never had a good answer and was slightly annoyed at the question.

We were decidedly middle class. We drove a 1965 Plymouth Belvedere (circa 1969), lived in base housing and rationed our money pretty carefully. We were the last officer's family on the base to get a color TV, in 1969. So... why weren't we rich? I myself am a pretty smart guy ;-) and am not rich, not even upper middle class.

Built into the question is an assumption that wealth, per se, is the highest good and the necessary end result of innate goodness. But I would care to phrase it differently. Wealth is just one of the possible happy byproducts of a life well-lived. The King Midas types, that spend all their time dealing in stocks, bonds and megamergers are not any kind of role model for me. If someone has truly made the world a better place, and coincidentally, picked up some money while they did it, good for them. I wouldn't begrudge ex-Beatle Paul McCartney his money. Many people loathe Bill Gates, but Microsoft Windows did change the face of computing and he has donated to many foundations and charities. But if all someone has done is amass a fortune, and look after it with uncaring avarice, he's really set a negative role model.

Now, what jobs leave an impact? How about public school teachers, social workers, soldiers in Iraq, registered nurses and such. They make a sacrifice in personal serenity if not the ultimate sacrifice and make very little money. Artists and journalists color our world with insights, yet frequently make poverty-level income. Are they dumb schmo's or people who maybe see a system of different values? I sometimes shop at "Half Price Books" and the sales clerk is a very bright man. He knows all about philosophy and classical music; can give you a review of any book. He's middle aged, not just doing it as a college job. Is he a lazy schlub or maybe just looking differently thru the prism of life?

I've often thought that the men who run much of our government and private enterprise are preening egotists in their $2000 suits and 5-series BMW's. I imagine a company where you take a CUT in pay as you move up the corporate ladder; as company CEO, you get throttled down to $20,000/year. Thus you trade perks for power, but a power that is separate from any material trappings. I can dream on. Humans will never devise this kind of company, but perhaps God himself already has. He who has the most toys doesn't win anything but a lot of toys. In closing, let's turn the question around. "If you're so rich, why aren't you smart?" :-)

Parallel Lines

Of lines spoken - I say what I mean. It's parallel lines that never meet. 

When I took English class in high school, a lot of time was spent on literary devices such as metaphors and symbols. Symbolism particularly annoyed me, because it seemed so unnecessary. Hester Prynne's letter "A" was supposed to be much more significant because it was scarlet. The statue in "Ozymandias" had some huge import that still escapes me to this day. I was much like the MGM film exec who said, "When I want to send a message, I use Western Union dammit". Just lay it on the line. Use prose, not poetry. Say exactly what you mean to say.

Symbolism is actually very old, it blossomed during the 19th century. When I reached my twenties, the beauty and necessity of symbolism hit me. It isn't that hard to figure. With pop music, the allowable venues, radio & concert halls, are commercial and establishmentarian. If a person wants to sing about something X-rated, politically controversial or religiously sensitive, he will be shot down by the censor's arrow. Starting with the early 60's, singers had messages more daring than "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to". There were many rock/folk songs dealing with issues of the day - Viet Nam, civil rights and women's rights, religious and sexual freedom, drug experimentation, etc. A new lexicon of symbols, colors and idioms came to the fore, to allow people with controversial viewpoints to come across on shows like "Ed Sullivan" and even "Lawrence Welk". Reviewing the 60's songs, sometimes the references are more frivolous than serious. "Puff the Magic Dragon" and "Along Came Mary" come to mind; they might allude to drugs and "weed". Other songs are more oblique:

"She-bop", Cyndi Lauper - about masturbation
"A Little Help from My Friends", the Beatles, ditto
"Shambala", B.W. Stephenson - about drug use
"I Melt With You", Modern English - about a relationship with God (not a romance)

There are thousands of other examples, and some more interesting (also more controversial and arguable). Because most pop songs deal with love, romance and sex, a frequent ruse is to make the song look like a paean to love, rather than something else (e.g., Modern English example above). The recipient of the message must be intelligent and emotionally sensitive for his antennae to pull in the message completely. As far as staying between the lines, Peter Paul and Mary sum the phenomenon up very well in their own song lyric:

I dig Rock and Roll music
I could really get it on in that scene.
I think I could say somethin' if you know what I mean
But if I really say it, the radio won't play it
Unless I lay it between the lines

So, the next time a song comes across as too simple or too cryptic or too weird, you may need to get beneath the surface and see if something more is happening. Embedded somewhere in the lyrics may be a sly wink, an "Easter Egg" to use a software analogy. Artists are usually loathe to tell you in so many words what they meant by this or that turn of phrase. It's for the listener or the reader to glean and appreciate. And so to quote Deborah Harry, "It's parallel lines that never meet".

Finding Neverland

The Man in the Mirror 

Back in the early 70's, I enjoyed the Jackson 5, and was impressed with the singing/dancing talents of the young Michael Jackson. I continued liking his music as he grew into adolescence and young adulthood. He did "Ben", "The Wiz" and then "Off the Wall" which set him apart as a truly gifted, inspired song writer, dancer and singer. He displayed a sensitivity that set him clearly apart from the soul/disco Lotharios of the time (e.g. Al Green, Barry White).

His tour de force was of course, "Thriller". His ability to work with other artists like Paul McCartney and Eddie Van Halen, as well as his chameleon-like ability to cross musical genres made him fascinating. When he appeared on a 1983 Motown special in his latest incarnation -- a moon walking, one-glove wearing, Webster carrying musical mastermind, the nation was spellbound. It was quite clear at this point that Michael had had a small amount of cosmetic surgery, and he had his share of eccentricities. But he was only 25, and the world was very forgiving. It's interesting, in retrospect, that the "Thriller" video itself was a harbinger of times to come. A morphing Michael who "isn't like the other guys" was about to take the stage.

What followed in the mid 80's, even before his next album, was a barrage of news stories about chimpanzees, hyperbaric oxygen chambers and the bones of elephant man. Where other celebs are extremely cautious to gauge how something will play in Peoria, Michael seemed to indulge his personal, private whims with nary a care. When his next album, "Bad" came out in 1987, it was something of a letdown. None of the songs carried the same magic as before; on the cover and in the video, he evinced more surgery and pallid white skin. His music seemed preachy and mis-guidedly messianic, not inspired. What followed in 1991 was "Dangerous" which did little to dispel the impressions from "Bad".

The 1990's were not at all a good decade for Michael. I had secretly rooted for him, because he seemed like an individualist that marched to his own drummer. Trouble was, he seemed to be drifting further into a dysfunctional private Idaho where nobody offered him credible feedback. The ultimate irony is him naming his estate "Neverland" so as to establish once and for all his childlike essence, and his separation from the madding crowd. The first fissure of the 90's was an Oprah interview where Michael claimed to be dating Brooke Shields, to have the skin disease vitiligo, and to have had minimal cosmetic surgery. Brooke politely denied his assertion, and his other statements were blatantly at odds with what was visible and obvious. ("As plain as the nose on your face" you might say).

What followed is a flurry of events so mind-boggling I'll just hit the highlights here: He was accused of child molestation in 1993, paid the accuser millions to drop the charges. Married Lisa Marie Presley briefly, and she defended him in an ABC interview, saying they had an active sex life. Michael had 3 children with a former assistant, and there is speculation that all 3 were done via artificial insemination. He dangled one from a hotel balcony in Berlin. He faced molestation charges again, in 2005, years after a "normal" person would've concluded that sleepovers with minors give people a bad impression. People who've worked close to him have revealed ironies upon ironies: He reportedly calls black people "spabooks" and prefers the company of whites. He still adheres to some of his Jehovah's Witness doctrine and condemns gays as immoral, though he appears to be implicated in sex acts with boys. His nose reductions are so extreme, he's said to have permanently damaged the blood supply to the nose, and what he has now is a prosthesis.

What I see with Michael is not an evil person, but rather a man in a fantasy world, who never had to confront reality until now. Mental health professionals could probably publish volumes about Michael and his convoluted life. He was apparently suspended in childhood, and most likely sees his own exploits with minors as a form of child's play. It is truly unfortunate that Michael is coming to terms (if indeed he is coming to terms), only because charges are brought by a district attorney. Maybe at last, he can heed his own words and look at "The Man in the Mirror".