OK, I didn't create a Yelp account...in part because I have this here blog and in part because I worry that I'll become this. But reviewer Katie K. over there and I, we're on the same damn page about Art and Soul, because god knows I want to shout from every medium available, "don't fucking bother." I generally should have paid more attention to the Yelp reviews (the people who give it any more than 2 stars are just charmed by the celebrity chef rep and nouveau riche atmosphere) but alas, I was excited by the reviews when the restaurant first opened, bolstered by Art Smith's appearance on Top Chef Masters and sold when the restaurant appeared on an otherwise anemic list of restaurants for Restaurant Week.
First, I'd like to mention that I'm f'ing sick of restaurants that are a cutesy play on the chef's name or that are named the street number of their address. It's narcissistic and it's been done. I'm over it.
But Art and Soul's greatest offense is being a hotel restaurant. A "hotel restaurant" is not to be confused with a restaurant located in a hotel. DC, in all of its expense account loving splendor, actually has an odd tendancy to place great restaurants in hotels: Blue Duck Tavern in the Hyatt, West End Bistro in the Ritz, Urbana in the Palomar. In contrast, a hotel restaurant has fine food, but not great. It over promises, it under delivers, and it's offensively over priced. All of these things are true of Art and Soul.
If I describe each course, this post will approach the length of the Comcast post, and nothing in this world deserves as much vitriol as Comcast. Suffice it to say that the courses weren't particularly flavorful, they weren't particularly well presented and they certainly weren't particularly southern. (If you're looking for good modern southern in DC, go for Vidalia or Acadiana, I beg of you.)
I will, however, discuss the service and the company...and why I will never stay at the Liaison Hotel either. The crowd looked like an Ed Hardy convention had taken an entire sex workers conference to dinner. I can't believe my boyfriend and I had actually considered whether we were under-dressed. I overheard conversations so vapid that I've blocked them out due to emotional distress. And all of these losers crowding the bar somehow slowed down all of the service. I mean really, is there any excuse for waiting 20 minutes for a dessert menu? There's sure not.
I think my cocktail was the quintessential experience of the night, at least where food was concerned. I took a look at their specialty cocktail menu, which all sounded incredibly sweet. I often like one sweet cocktail at the beginning or end of the meal and I thought "what the hell?" and ordered a blackberry mojito. When the drink arrived 25 minutes later, it was actually surprisingly good--they'd replaced the sugar with the blackberries. I mentioned to the waiter that the drink was very good--that it could easily have been too sweet, but was not. He had strangely little reaction. I ordered another as I was finishing my appetizer. It arrived as I was finishing my entree, and it was like drinking corn syrup. Apparently the bartender had left out the sugar on the first drink. Boyfriend believes the waiter thinks I may be a honeybee.
After I had to pour table water into my cocktail in order to choke it down, we decided that the meal was over. Boyfriend flagged down our waiter for the check and I went to the ladies room, which was also the hotel lobby ladies room. There, I found three chicks standing in front of the sinks, checking themselves in the mirror and plotting how to get on The Real World (here's a tip, they're done filming in DC) and what appeared to be full stalls except the handicapped stall. I pulled on the handle to the stall and, score!, it opens...or so I thought. Upon opening the door I found some chick, bare ass in the air, clearly drunk, "squatting" over the toilet. I immediately apologized, but she had no reaction. I don't think it was the first time a stranger had seen her bare ass hoisted in the air.
Another stall emptied, I stepped in, peed, came out and the same chicks were still blocking the sinks. When an "excuse me" prompted no movement on their part and I realized they were trashed, I decided it was better not to argue, but rather to wait. While waiting, two other drunk chicks stumble in. One goes into a stall, while the other Rachel Zoe-looking one looked around confused. I gestured at the now empty stalll I'd exited, where upon she informed me that she didn't need to pee and that my dress was cute. I thanked her. But then she continued "You just need some really big earings...and a really big necklace...and oh, girl, some heels!"
I was wearing a large cocktail ring, which, for those that don't know my jewelry habits, is about as much as I'm willing to wear. And heels I love, but they're special occassion shoes to me--retipping my Stuart Weitzmans is a pain in the ass. If I were going out dancing, I would have been in heels. As I'm considering all of these things and trying to find an appropriate reaction, the chicks at the sink move and I'm finally able to wash my hands.
I move to the sink and Zoe follows me. She continues, "You have this perfect little body," and proceeds to place her hands on the sides of my breasts "like this," moves her hands to my waist "this," and finished on my hips "and these." At this point I must have registered horror on my face because she says to me, "Honey, I'm a mother of three--all girls, no boys--I'm not hitting on you, I'm just saying, you should wear tighter clothes and more jewelry and men would love you!" The seventh grader in me wanted to tell her that my very attractive boyfriend was waiting for me back at my table. The rest of me wanted to call child protective services.
When I got back to the table, the check had finally come, but the waiter hadn't taken our credit cards yet.
Thank god Bistro Bis is around the corner and the bartender makes a fabulous extra dirty martini. Try the coconut sorbet.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
On Skinny Jeans: Proof that We Read Our Comments
Recently, BellaNutella asked us the following in comments:
Well Bella, you're in luck because bitches always tell the truth. The truth about skinny jeans is that only (and this may be generous) 5% of the population can pull them off while closer to 35% of the population believes they can pull them off.
I don't object on principle, but the very simple fact is that skinny jeans were invented for, shocking though this might be, the skinny. And not just the normal skinny, the freakish model skinny. They're one of those things that should only be available in sizes 00, 0, 2 and maybe 4 (but only for the tall) just to save people from themselves. It's like when you see a tight fitting dress in a size large and you pray that the store won't sell any for the benefit of your eyes. I say if no one above a size small should wear it, you just shouldn't make a larger size at all...for society.
As for me, I'm a size 4 and I cannot pull off the skinny jean. Anyone who has hips and thighs just shouldn't try. Skinny jeans are the skinny legged, knock kneed girls' revenge from when they were picked on in middle school. To tell if you're in the should or should not group, try on a pair of skinny jeans. If (1) your inner thighs touch each other when you stand with your feet shoulder width apart or (2) there is any rounding from the thighs just above the knee then you're in the 95% of the population with me and you'll have to give up on the dream. Bella, I could be wrong, so take the test above, but my inclination is that, knowing you as I do, you have more womanliness to you than a 12 year old boy and, as a result, skinny jeans are not for you...or for most people who wear larger than an A-cup.
If you do qualify to wear skinny jeans, please, for the love of god, wear the proper footwear with them. Tennis shoes are a no. Really, not anything you'd need to wear socks with. Converse maybe. Generally, go for a simple flat...ballet shoe-esque. Like the overplayed Tory Burch slides...but something not so over played. If they're the type that bunch at the bottom, you can wear heels. Otherwise, heel with caution.
That's this bitch's take. Tami? Commenters?
How do we feel about skinny jeans? more coverage and hold than leggings, but are they still offensive? I'm hoping the answer is no, as I've spotted a nice black pair at BR; however, I'm counting on you Bitches to tell me the truth!
Well Bella, you're in luck because bitches always tell the truth. The truth about skinny jeans is that only (and this may be generous) 5% of the population can pull them off while closer to 35% of the population believes they can pull them off.
I don't object on principle, but the very simple fact is that skinny jeans were invented for, shocking though this might be, the skinny. And not just the normal skinny, the freakish model skinny. They're one of those things that should only be available in sizes 00, 0, 2 and maybe 4 (but only for the tall) just to save people from themselves. It's like when you see a tight fitting dress in a size large and you pray that the store won't sell any for the benefit of your eyes. I say if no one above a size small should wear it, you just shouldn't make a larger size at all...for society.
As for me, I'm a size 4 and I cannot pull off the skinny jean. Anyone who has hips and thighs just shouldn't try. Skinny jeans are the skinny legged, knock kneed girls' revenge from when they were picked on in middle school. To tell if you're in the should or should not group, try on a pair of skinny jeans. If (1) your inner thighs touch each other when you stand with your feet shoulder width apart or (2) there is any rounding from the thighs just above the knee then you're in the 95% of the population with me and you'll have to give up on the dream. Bella, I could be wrong, so take the test above, but my inclination is that, knowing you as I do, you have more womanliness to you than a 12 year old boy and, as a result, skinny jeans are not for you...or for most people who wear larger than an A-cup.
If you do qualify to wear skinny jeans, please, for the love of god, wear the proper footwear with them. Tennis shoes are a no. Really, not anything you'd need to wear socks with. Converse maybe. Generally, go for a simple flat...ballet shoe-esque. Like the overplayed Tory Burch slides...but something not so over played. If they're the type that bunch at the bottom, you can wear heels. Otherwise, heel with caution.
That's this bitch's take. Tami? Commenters?
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Comcast--The Saga Continues
I took a brief nap this evening when I got home from work (having a boyfriend on a four hour time change can often lead to such juvenile behavior) and awoke to a message from Comcast asking me to call a 1-866 number "about my account." Gee, can you vague that up for me a little? You're overwhelming me with the detail.
So, after I arose, I called the number. I was told by an automated message that all of the representatives were busy and then subjected to what should have been hold music, but I'm pretty sure was just static. After holding for a while, I was put to a voicemail and told to leave a message for "Box Number 5." I figured this had to be a mistake, so I hung up and repeated the process, static for hold music and all.
In the end, I left a message for good ole Box Number 5 and this is what I said:
I feel fairly certain that they're calling to threaten to shut off my service even though I've paid my bill (and the amount has been deducted from my bank account, I checked) and explained to them that it's their fault that they didn't receive the payment in a more timely manner. It would just be so...them. I'll keep y'all updated. Keep sharing your horror stories. This will be like group therapy.
So, after I arose, I called the number. I was told by an automated message that all of the representatives were busy and then subjected to what should have been hold music, but I'm pretty sure was just static. After holding for a while, I was put to a voicemail and told to leave a message for "Box Number 5." I figured this had to be a mistake, so I hung up and repeated the process, static for hold music and all.
In the end, I left a message for good ole Box Number 5 and this is what I said:
Hi, this is Elle Kay. I'm returning a call from you to call this number and now I suppose I will wait for another call, which is generally representative of the fantastic customer service I've received from you. Please give me a call back to discuss whatever vague issue with my Comcast account you alluded to on my voicemail [and here I left my phone number.]I couldn't help but think of Shirley Jackson.
I feel fairly certain that they're calling to threaten to shut off my service even though I've paid my bill (and the amount has been deducted from my bank account, I checked) and explained to them that it's their fault that they didn't receive the payment in a more timely manner. It would just be so...them. I'll keep y'all updated. Keep sharing your horror stories. This will be like group therapy.
I'm Feeling Morally Ambivalent
I hate children. Many of you may know this. I don't really think they're people, they scare the shit out of me, and in general I resent having them in the same places that I am. If anyone has venture capital in this economy, I'd like to start a chain of restaurants, hotels, airlines, etc. that are over 21 only.
That being the case, I've been known to bitch loudly when a child is making noise in what I would consider "grown up space." This is everything from the metro at rush hour to restaurants to nice stores. I just think that really you shouldn't be bringing your kid there. Make alternate arrangements. Watch the Sex and the City episode entitled "A Woman's Right to Shoes." Having kids is your choice...just don't force your bad decision on me.
That being said, I try pretty hard not to hit children--particularly other people's children. And so far I've succeeded. Somehow even the little devil on my shoulder thinks that seems wrong. But alas, not this gent from near where I grew up. I have some sympathy for him--crying kids and the parents who do nothing about it are fucking annoying. On the other hand, he looks like the meanest man ever. And it might be kind of wrong.
That being the case, I've been known to bitch loudly when a child is making noise in what I would consider "grown up space." This is everything from the metro at rush hour to restaurants to nice stores. I just think that really you shouldn't be bringing your kid there. Make alternate arrangements. Watch the Sex and the City episode entitled "A Woman's Right to Shoes." Having kids is your choice...just don't force your bad decision on me.
That being said, I try pretty hard not to hit children--particularly other people's children. And so far I've succeeded. Somehow even the little devil on my shoulder thinks that seems wrong. But alas, not this gent from near where I grew up. I have some sympathy for him--crying kids and the parents who do nothing about it are fucking annoying. On the other hand, he looks like the meanest man ever. And it might be kind of wrong.
Spotted: DC Fashion Crimes - Butt Edition
The weather in DC is currently fabulous. Not too hot, not too cool and (thank fucking god) not too humid. As we draw towards the end of the recess (and seersucker season...seriously, not after Labor Day), it's a nice time to take a long lunch and an accompanying long walk before we all have to actually work again.
My co-worker and I took such a long walk to a long lunch today. On the way back, we first encountered this...
In case my blackberry isn't making this clear enough, that's ass cleavage. Hard core ass cleavage. And it's wrong. Shockingly, upsettingly, terribly wrong. It's also accompanied by grey fashion-victim-trying-to-wear-as-many-second-hand-designer-labels-at-once Uggs. It's still summer. Cooler temps or not, it's not time for Uggs. (I leave it open to debate whether there's ever a time for Uggs.)
Next, as if our eyes had not been assaulted enough, we were greeted with this...
Those, my friends, are purple leggings, worn as pants, with darker purple flowers on them. I know. Trust me, I know. Now, leggings as pants is controversial to me. I worship the Fug Girls and respect their opinion that "LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS!!" and I once had two beers (not one, two) poured over me in a bit of a bar fight because I told a size 8 that her thighs look huge when she wears leggings as pants. (That bitch cut the bathroom line at a crowded bar, you can't blame me.) On the other hand, having spent my undergrad education in California, I'm forced to admit that I believe that a very few people can pull of leggings as pants (WX, I'm looking at you) and perhaps worse still, I have to say that I think Lindsay Lohan looks alright in them (I know, I know, credibility gone).
BUT most people, myself included, look like they have huge thighs when they wear leggings as pants. And NO ONE--I repeat NO ONE--looks good in light purple leggings with dark purple flowers on them. I defy you to disagree.
And I still hate DC.
My co-worker and I took such a long walk to a long lunch today. On the way back, we first encountered this...
In case my blackberry isn't making this clear enough, that's ass cleavage. Hard core ass cleavage. And it's wrong. Shockingly, upsettingly, terribly wrong. It's also accompanied by grey fashion-victim-trying-to-wear-as-many-second-hand-designer-labels-at-once Uggs. It's still summer. Cooler temps or not, it's not time for Uggs. (I leave it open to debate whether there's ever a time for Uggs.)Next, as if our eyes had not been assaulted enough, we were greeted with this...
Those, my friends, are purple leggings, worn as pants, with darker purple flowers on them. I know. Trust me, I know. Now, leggings as pants is controversial to me. I worship the Fug Girls and respect their opinion that "LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS!!" and I once had two beers (not one, two) poured over me in a bit of a bar fight because I told a size 8 that her thighs look huge when she wears leggings as pants. (That bitch cut the bathroom line at a crowded bar, you can't blame me.) On the other hand, having spent my undergrad education in California, I'm forced to admit that I believe that a very few people can pull of leggings as pants (WX, I'm looking at you) and perhaps worse still, I have to say that I think Lindsay Lohan looks alright in them (I know, I know, credibility gone).
BUT most people, myself included, look like they have huge thighs when they wear leggings as pants. And NO ONE--I repeat NO ONE--looks good in light purple leggings with dark purple flowers on them. I defy you to disagree.
And I still hate DC.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Dear Comcast, Bite Me.
The subject of this post is my current gchat status and no less than 5 people have started a conversation either by agreeing or sharing a story of their own. If Comcast does any good in this world it's pseudo-reliably bringing me episodes of Mad Men and Top Chef for an outrageous price and giving friends and strangers a mutual hatred to bond over.
There was a time when I was happily a satellite TV customer, and I admit that I paid more, but the service worked--it was reliable, when I called customer service they were helpful, when they screwed up, they apologized with free stuff (take note airlines, friends and lovers, free stuff calms any irate person.) However, for the past 2 years, I've lived in an historical building, that will not let me have a dish, so Comcast it is.
I've had Comcast on and off for years, both in California and here in DC. In theory, it should be great: one bill for cable, internet and DVR, OnDemand is pretty nifty, order pay-per-view with my remote and have complete control for 24 hours, etc. etc. etc. All of that would be nifty, if the service didn't suck.
In the sorority, we had little rituals that we had learned in an effort to fix the ominous tiled picture that is Comcast sucking. When I moved here, I dealt with such ridiculousness as being transferred back and forth between customer service centers because the phone number that my account is linked to is from California and they have separate customer service from DC. The cell phone people, it's not a fad. Several times repair or installation technicians would show up and call me when I was at work despite that fact that I'd asked them to call either my building management or my roommate to access the apartment. On at least one occasion, they simply left rather than contact the alternate person I'd told them to contact in the first place. Point being, it's always something.
This particular time, I moved. I moved within my apartment complex. Literally around the corner. Contrary to Comcast's claim that it's easy to transfer your service, mmm, not so much. It's more than a little annoying that to do anything with Concast they have to send a technician to your house, which means someone has to be home, but at least I have a management office that can take care of that. They made the obligatory call to me rather than the management office I had told them to contact, but it all worked out in the end and my service was successfully moved to my new apartment. Or so I thought.
A little while later I received a coupon from Comcast that offered customers who relocate digital cable for $39.95/month for 6 months, plus free HD, DVR, Starz and Showtime. I'm no longer on an introductory rate and have no movie channels, so this seemed like a good deal to me...a nice way to say "thanks for keeping our service even though you moved and could have reconsidered your options just as easily as dealt with our retarded customer service and technicians." I called to redeem the offer. Apparently, despite the term "relocate" on the coupon, it's actually only for new customers. What huh?@!?@ The woman instead offered to add telephone service for the exact same price that I'm paying now.
I don't need telephone service. I have a cell phone. Seriously, not a fad. I explained this and the woman seemed confused. "But it's a whole extra service for the same price you're paying. It's essentially free." I understand that, but it's a service I don't need and don't want and that you'll start charging me for without warning when the initial period ends. And god forbid what I would have to go through to cancel a service. After further argumentation the "customer service" rep relented and offered me a free movie channel for 6 months to shut me up. Which would have worked...if I'd received the free movie channel. And really if this next thing hadn't happened.
When I transfer a service, I expect it to, ya know, transfer...along with the rest of the components. I've used Comcast's eBill feature for quite a while. My bills are always on time, I don't have to think about it, and I feel like I undo a little of the harm I do to the environment every time I print useless stuff like the Cal logo in varying sizes to see which looks best hanging on my office door. Today I received a notice that I hadn't paid my bill in months and that my service was going to be shut off and, if it was shut off, there'd be a $20 reconnect fee. Ehhem, shouldn't my auto-bill pay have taken care of that?
One might think, but no. No. When Comcast says "transfer" your service, what they mean is close your account and open and new one and never mention to you that you have to set up your eBill service again. From my perspective, I logged in with my old eBill log in and it just looked like they hadn't updated the account. When I explained to the "customer service" rep that they really should let you know that you have to add your account number to this service, she said (in that customer-is-always-right way that customer service reps are trained on) "yeah, it can be kind of confusing, haha" but with a tone that implied that she really wasn't sure why I was too dumb to figure this out. I'm still waiting on my free movie channel.
The thing about customer service is, the people on the phone can be as nice as can be, but if the system is inherently flawed and the product randomly freezes and goes all tiley in the middle of Gossip Girl for no f'ing reason, I'm still a dissatisfied customer. And it seems that many others are too. You?
There was a time when I was happily a satellite TV customer, and I admit that I paid more, but the service worked--it was reliable, when I called customer service they were helpful, when they screwed up, they apologized with free stuff (take note airlines, friends and lovers, free stuff calms any irate person.) However, for the past 2 years, I've lived in an historical building, that will not let me have a dish, so Comcast it is.
I've had Comcast on and off for years, both in California and here in DC. In theory, it should be great: one bill for cable, internet and DVR, OnDemand is pretty nifty, order pay-per-view with my remote and have complete control for 24 hours, etc. etc. etc. All of that would be nifty, if the service didn't suck.
In the sorority, we had little rituals that we had learned in an effort to fix the ominous tiled picture that is Comcast sucking. When I moved here, I dealt with such ridiculousness as being transferred back and forth between customer service centers because the phone number that my account is linked to is from California and they have separate customer service from DC. The cell phone people, it's not a fad. Several times repair or installation technicians would show up and call me when I was at work despite that fact that I'd asked them to call either my building management or my roommate to access the apartment. On at least one occasion, they simply left rather than contact the alternate person I'd told them to contact in the first place. Point being, it's always something.
This particular time, I moved. I moved within my apartment complex. Literally around the corner. Contrary to Comcast's claim that it's easy to transfer your service, mmm, not so much. It's more than a little annoying that to do anything with Concast they have to send a technician to your house, which means someone has to be home, but at least I have a management office that can take care of that. They made the obligatory call to me rather than the management office I had told them to contact, but it all worked out in the end and my service was successfully moved to my new apartment. Or so I thought.
A little while later I received a coupon from Comcast that offered customers who relocate digital cable for $39.95/month for 6 months, plus free HD, DVR, Starz and Showtime. I'm no longer on an introductory rate and have no movie channels, so this seemed like a good deal to me...a nice way to say "thanks for keeping our service even though you moved and could have reconsidered your options just as easily as dealt with our retarded customer service and technicians." I called to redeem the offer. Apparently, despite the term "relocate" on the coupon, it's actually only for new customers. What huh?@!?@ The woman instead offered to add telephone service for the exact same price that I'm paying now.
I don't need telephone service. I have a cell phone. Seriously, not a fad. I explained this and the woman seemed confused. "But it's a whole extra service for the same price you're paying. It's essentially free." I understand that, but it's a service I don't need and don't want and that you'll start charging me for without warning when the initial period ends. And god forbid what I would have to go through to cancel a service. After further argumentation the "customer service" rep relented and offered me a free movie channel for 6 months to shut me up. Which would have worked...if I'd received the free movie channel. And really if this next thing hadn't happened.
When I transfer a service, I expect it to, ya know, transfer...along with the rest of the components. I've used Comcast's eBill feature for quite a while. My bills are always on time, I don't have to think about it, and I feel like I undo a little of the harm I do to the environment every time I print useless stuff like the Cal logo in varying sizes to see which looks best hanging on my office door. Today I received a notice that I hadn't paid my bill in months and that my service was going to be shut off and, if it was shut off, there'd be a $20 reconnect fee. Ehhem, shouldn't my auto-bill pay have taken care of that?
One might think, but no. No. When Comcast says "transfer" your service, what they mean is close your account and open and new one and never mention to you that you have to set up your eBill service again. From my perspective, I logged in with my old eBill log in and it just looked like they hadn't updated the account. When I explained to the "customer service" rep that they really should let you know that you have to add your account number to this service, she said (in that customer-is-always-right way that customer service reps are trained on) "yeah, it can be kind of confusing, haha" but with a tone that implied that she really wasn't sure why I was too dumb to figure this out. I'm still waiting on my free movie channel.
The thing about customer service is, the people on the phone can be as nice as can be, but if the system is inherently flawed and the product randomly freezes and goes all tiley in the middle of Gossip Girl for no f'ing reason, I'm still a dissatisfied customer. And it seems that many others are too. You?
Saturday, August 29, 2009
You Know You Want One
Thanks, Joel McHale: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-IrlhLF1c3k&feature=related
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Keep Honking, It'll Help. Really.
So as I was crossing Washington Circle to get to the Metro today (for those non-DC folks, there are a number of traffic circles in DC with stop lights that mostly exist to facilitate pedestrian crossing. However, those lights give pedestrians like 20 seconds of less to cross and take forever to change), a DC sightseeing bus ran the red light. The guy held up his hand as if to say, "wait your turn", but IT WAS MY TURN. After he finally was through and I resumed crossing, a woman in a van almost hit me and several other pedestrians. We all held up our hands as if to say, "Lady, what the f***?!" and she held hers up. SHE HAD A VERY RED LIGHT! And she looked at us like we were doing something wrong.
But, that story actually was not the point of my post. The point is, as I was waiting to cross like 7 people were honking at the stopped traffic. Typically, if traffic is stopped, it will not be solved by honking. And, even if it could be, do multiple people honking solve the problem that many times faster?! Let me answer my own question. No, just NO!
So, do the world a favor. Use the horn for its intended purpose: as a warning of your presence or an impending collision. Not as an extension of your anger management issues.
But, that story actually was not the point of my post. The point is, as I was waiting to cross like 7 people were honking at the stopped traffic. Typically, if traffic is stopped, it will not be solved by honking. And, even if it could be, do multiple people honking solve the problem that many times faster?! Let me answer my own question. No, just NO!
So, do the world a favor. Use the horn for its intended purpose: as a warning of your presence or an impending collision. Not as an extension of your anger management issues.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Top 5 Greatest Movies of All Time (or at least my childhood)
My father collects things: books, gadgets, and movies (in whatever format is cutting-edge at the time). However, for some insane reason, he finds cable to be a waste of money. So, we had tons of VHS and 7 channels. For no particular reason - or perhaps to eulogize John Hughes - here are my top 5 favorite movies growing up.
5) Crocodile Dundee - What ever happened to Paul Hogan - or that chick? Apparently nothing. Anyway, it was a wonderfully silly movie that gave us such dialogue gems as "you call that a knife?!"
4) Ghostbusters - I admit, this is probably on the list because I am currently watching it on AMC. But, that doesn't change the fact that it is a great film. I mean, Rick Moranis' performance alone makes this one of the best campy romps of the 80s (and there were more than a few campy romps in the decade that spawned acid wash and the hair crimper). Even a horrible sequel can't diminish the greatness that is Ghostbusters.
3) Christmas Vacation - While all the vacation movies kick ass, this is far and away my favorite. I mean, a man in an RV who owns a dog named "Snots" kidnaps a rich CEO and they all end up singing Christmas carols and drinking eggnog. Plus, we see Juliette Lewis before she turned into this.
2) Breakfast Club - The birth of the brat pack. Enough said.
1) 16 Candles - I admit it, I watched this video so many times that the beginning was actually all screwed up because the tape got distorted. This movie made me excited to go to high school, where I could be Jake Ryan's Samantha. There are so many wonderful scenes and lines...I don't know where to start. But the best thing about this movie is that as much as I loved it as a kid, when I watched it as a teenager, I finally understood the jokes - and they were even funnier.
John Hughes was a genius (and yes, I realize that I left of Ferris Bueller's Day Off and Uncle Buck and two of the movies on this list have no affiliation with Hughes) and a hero of mine. I wish I could have met him - and asked him for Michael Schoeffling's phone number.
5) Crocodile Dundee - What ever happened to Paul Hogan - or that chick? Apparently nothing. Anyway, it was a wonderfully silly movie that gave us such dialogue gems as "you call that a knife?!"
4) Ghostbusters - I admit, this is probably on the list because I am currently watching it on AMC. But, that doesn't change the fact that it is a great film. I mean, Rick Moranis' performance alone makes this one of the best campy romps of the 80s (and there were more than a few campy romps in the decade that spawned acid wash and the hair crimper). Even a horrible sequel can't diminish the greatness that is Ghostbusters.
3) Christmas Vacation - While all the vacation movies kick ass, this is far and away my favorite. I mean, a man in an RV who owns a dog named "Snots" kidnaps a rich CEO and they all end up singing Christmas carols and drinking eggnog. Plus, we see Juliette Lewis before she turned into this.
2) Breakfast Club - The birth of the brat pack. Enough said.
1) 16 Candles - I admit it, I watched this video so many times that the beginning was actually all screwed up because the tape got distorted. This movie made me excited to go to high school, where I could be Jake Ryan's Samantha. There are so many wonderful scenes and lines...I don't know where to start. But the best thing about this movie is that as much as I loved it as a kid, when I watched it as a teenager, I finally understood the jokes - and they were even funnier.
John Hughes was a genius (and yes, I realize that I left of Ferris Bueller's Day Off and Uncle Buck and two of the movies on this list have no affiliation with Hughes) and a hero of mine. I wish I could have met him - and asked him for Michael Schoeffling's phone number.
Is Real World Even Trying to Be Real Anymore?
Short answer: I don't think so.
I am one to argue that MTV's Real World lost touch with reality long ago. In fact, I wrote my honors thesis on this topic (and I went to Berkeley, so stifle the snide comments about my honors thesis from community college). It was very academic - and only half my research involved watching television.
See, I believe the show began as the social experiment it has always purported to be. They used to just observe normal looking people and their interactions. Now, they send wannabe actors and models - who look like they are straight out of central casting - to party capitals all over the world, give them ridiculous jobs they are completely unqualified for and figure out how to ply them with liquor without actually pouring the drinks down their throat.
But now, they are letting a cast member stay who was kicked out of the hotel where they reside in Cancun stay on the show. Isn't the whole f***ing point of the show that they live together?!
I wish I could quit this horrible, brain-atrophying show. But I can't. And now, they are taping in DC, and all I can think is how badly I want to see the cast out and about getting drunk live and in person. I may need help, but that doesn't change the fact that Real World needs a reality check.
I am one to argue that MTV's Real World lost touch with reality long ago. In fact, I wrote my honors thesis on this topic (and I went to Berkeley, so stifle the snide comments about my honors thesis from community college). It was very academic - and only half my research involved watching television.
See, I believe the show began as the social experiment it has always purported to be. They used to just observe normal looking people and their interactions. Now, they send wannabe actors and models - who look like they are straight out of central casting - to party capitals all over the world, give them ridiculous jobs they are completely unqualified for and figure out how to ply them with liquor without actually pouring the drinks down their throat.
But now, they are letting a cast member stay who was kicked out of the hotel where they reside in Cancun stay on the show. Isn't the whole f***ing point of the show that they live together?!
I wish I could quit this horrible, brain-atrophying show. But I can't. And now, they are taping in DC, and all I can think is how badly I want to see the cast out and about getting drunk live and in person. I may need help, but that doesn't change the fact that Real World needs a reality check.
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