Bitching About "Customer Service"

In the era where cell phones and related devices can do everything but vacuum the floor and brush you teeth for you, there is one aspect of the technology age that actually falls short of the old school way. And that's when you have to contact the phone company, banks, or businesses with a problem you have to address by phone. In the good on days, you would call these people up, and actually get a real live human being.
But of course, no more, no more, no more. It's the dreaded automated menu that comes up. Now, it's bad enough when you used to get only one menu. Now you get the pleasure of wading through sub-menus. Hit the wrong button by chance, and you're forced retrace your button pushing steps, taking up even more of your precious time.
If your quest requires speaking to a real human being you can get there, but only after Mr. or Mrs. Automation attempts to steer you away from it. Even then, no matter how early or late you place the call you get: "our representative are busy right now, please hang on."
As if that's not bad enough you either get the pleasure of listening to the most annoying elevator style music ever, or mini commercial about the company's great services, other than their so-called customer service.
I've sat and pondered how we can possibly get out of this situation. Then it hit me. After years of waiting for Jetson style technology we finally got camera phones and web cams. So it might be possible that we'll soon get robots and androids that can answer phones like real life human beings. Then, and only then, will customer service really be customer service.

The Late Night Wars to Cage Match/ Let's Do It!

Anybody who has turned on a TV set in the last few weeks has witnessed the Late Night Wars brought on by Jay Leno and Conan O’Brien committing the worst TV sin of all; getting unsatisfactory rating.
The great NBC plan was to announce O’Brien’s take over of the Tonight Show ahead of time to avoid the scramble that occurred between Leno and David Letterman when Johnny Carson stepped down. Oops Oops Oops
But then came the bad ratings and NBC’s questionable plan to reshuffle the line up, causing O’Brien to publicly balk in a big way. Then Letterman jumped into the fray because he just couldn’t resist.
The monologue jousting has ranged from funny to vindictive to just kind of creepy. Some, like me, would say it’s a case of rich guys bitching over turf and how richer they can be or become. The way network television works in a highly successful day time or late night show can reap huge profits because of the frequency of its airing and its low production costs. So there are untold millions of dollars available to the stars of these shows. Leno and Letterman have already cashed in. But poor Conan has to settle for a paltry 30 million plus buy out settlement. How will the man eat?
I think it’s time to stop the yak yak yakking and get to some action. And I, good people, have the answer. A no holds barred WWF style wrestling cage match between Leno, O’Brien, and Letterman with the proceeds going to charity.
They’ve already done the pre-match trash talking so all that is needed is the nick names and costumes. Jay “Dr. Chin” Leno dressed like the Purdue Boilermaker mascot that he resembles. Conan “Gumby” O’Brien dressed like Gumby. And David “The Avenger” Letterman garbed in super hero tights and cape.
There would be a size, height, and age difference between the combatants. But since its be a cage match, you could sprinkle the ring with equalizes like chairs, bottles, and slabs of lumber spiked with nails.
The last man standing would be crowned King of Late Night and the entire matter would be put to rest, thank goodness.

Super Bowl Half Time Show; More Old White Men

Am I the only one to notice that since the infamous Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction incident, the half time Super Bowl acts have been all about, well, old white men more likely to have a bowel malfunction that one of the wardrobe variety?
Let’s see, there was Tom Petty, Paul McCarthy, and Bruce Springsteen. I’m getting old myself, I may have missed somebody. I suppose they all met the criteria for half time acts. Long term success, and millions of loyal fans. But then again, so does Janet Jackson, and several other female singers under the age of sixty.
I suppose the NFL can tolerate large sweaty angry men knocking the crap out of each other for three hours white attempting to move an oblong leather ball up and down a hundred yard field. But they draw the line at condoning anything overtly sexual sullying their good family entertainment game. Well, other than hot young women in skimpy outfits cheering their hearts out for their favorite home team. Not to mention their big boobs and shapely butts.
It’s the sexism of the choices that bothers me most. If the acts have to be over sixty, why can’t they be female? Cher is someone that comes to mind. Although in her younger days she had a penchant for wearing outrageous outfits to award shows. I suppose she could be talked into wearing a non-malfunctioning outfit like a zip up leather jacket, leather pants, and boots.
Tina Turner is another act that would fit the bill. She still had great legs, so we shouldn’t ask her to cover them, but she could wear a strait jacket type top to guard against malfunctions.
Tina has such a raspy hard-edged speaking voice I think she could do a good job narrating for NFL Films. Couldn’t you just hear her saying:
“It was a warm 72 degrees inside the noisy domed stadium when the Green Bay Packers met the New England Patriots with the NFL championship hanging in the balance.”

Reality TV Heaven and Hell

At this point I suppose it’s safe to say that reality TV shows are here to stay, for better or worst, heaven or hell. I’m not a particularly big fan of reality television, although there are shows I do watch. Like all other television shows they exist in varying degrees of quality, and survive varying amounts of time.
However, I’m beginning to notice something uniquely insidious about reality shows. Even if there’s a show you don’t like, and have no interest in whatsoever, you may not be able to escape the people featured in the show unless you completely give up viewing television. I had never heard of the Jon and Kate show until stories of their crumbling marriage surfaced. As far as I can tell the dissolution of their marriage is probably for the good of mankind. What I strongly object to is the constant reports and updates on these annoying people. They pop up on magazine shows, morning shows like Today, and even local news broadcasts.
The Hills is another show I’ve never watched. But I have seen way too much coverage of the stars of the show, especially Heidi and Spencer, apparently the most annoying people in their age group in America, if not the world.
Somebody tell me how this travesty can be put to a stop

Good people, if I do say so myself, I sometimes come up with brilliant ideas. This one is for the ultimate reality show called House on a Steep Hill. I’m positive it will be a guaranteed ratings winner. It will be a one time broadcast live and unedited.
The premise of the show will be to gather together a group of the most annoying and unlikeable reality show participants on a false promise, and fly them by helicopter to a luxury house located on a steep hill.
Once the group has gathered inside the house, Boom , a dynamite charge will, to say the least, put a shock into the group. The blast won’t be strong enough to wipe out all the participants. But think of the thrill of seeing your most hated reality show star bite the dust in a big way.
A broadcast announcement will tell the survivors weather conditions won’t allow a helicopter rescue, but if they journey to the bottom of the hill they will be saved.
Now here comes the next twist. Sprinkled around the slope of the hill will be mean and hungry wild animals; lions and tigers and bears, oh my. The prospect of seeing one or more alleged stars being ripped to shreds, and eaten for lunch by a wild animal has to be just what the doctor ordered for the dedicated reality show fan.
Not to be totally unfair, there will also be weapons placed along the path going down the hill. Everything from primitive spears and bows and arrows to hand guns and Uzis. The trick for the stars will be to acquire the best weapon possible before being attacked by one or more animals.
I’ll tell you folks, the suspense will be amazing. Either all the pesky reality stars will become wild animal appetizers, or some will actually survive, and win our respect, if not admiration. A ratings winner for sure. Call me, networks. Call me.

Random Thoughts About Michael Jackson

I have to say I grew up in Gary so I was a witness to seeing the Jackson Five evolve from talent show sensations to playing local clubs to being signed by Motown. On the every day side the house where they lived happened to be situated directly behind a little league baseball field where I and the older Jackson brothers played. I remember many a foul ball landing in the Jackson’s yard. Seeing the van they used to transport themselves and their equipment to gigs. Or passing by seeing little kids like Janet running about in baby clothes.
I keep thinking that Michael’s life was the ultimate contradiction. What made him highly popular and successful also kept him from finding a delicate balance between his private and public life. It was if his celebrity burned so white hot he became like an alien from another planet. He could be admired to the point of frenzy, but not really completely understood by his fans. He could look for a place to fit in, but would find it difficult to find someone that could completely relate to his unique position in the world.
At the time Michael married Lisa Marie Pressley I wondered why he picked her out of all the women in the world. But on the other hand, with Michael reputed to be an astute student of show business, he knew Elvis was the one rock and roll era entertainer that mirrored his own career the most.
The parallels between Elvis and Michael are obvious. The rare triple threat of top notch vocals, unique dancing and movement, combined with irresistable charisma. In their own ways both were ground breaking. Elvis drove white teenagers crazy in the sexually repressed 1950s. He also scared the crap out of parents, drew the ire of religious conservatives, and as a by product, probably caused white kids to gravitate more to black entertainers with styles that Elvis emulated. With the sheer force of his talent Michael became a world wide sensation. He also broke down barriers like the practice of black acts having to break out big on the R&B charts before ever getting airplay on top 40 stations. Not to mention making MTV revamp their early practice of not broadcasting videos by black artists.
The classic TV appearance by Elvis was his stint on the Ed Sullivan in which they blocked out the bottom half of his body because his movements were considered too sexually suggestive. Instead of protecting their children, the action probably made them even more attracted to Elvis.
Michael solidified his position as the undisputed man of the times with his dazzling performance of Billy Jean on the Motown 25th television special. Anybody would be hard pressed to find a more electrifying and right on point piece of video of the same length on any subject, let alone a musical performance.
I’m hardly an expert, and could be off base, but I can’t help but wonder what would have happened had Michael had under gone a type of theraphy that would have helped him separate his performing self from his real life existence. If he could have been his on Clark Kent and put his Superman suit in a closet to be pulled out at appropriate times. I suppose we’ll never know.
I’m sure that, like Elvis, Michael’s music and video contributions will live on and prosper, and will be embraced by a new crop of fans who didn’t get the chance to see him perform in person or on a live broadcast. Such are the things legends are made of.

The Fame and Shame Game

The other night after I, for some unknown reason, had just watched my fourth celebrity and entertainment half hour magazine show, it dawned on me that I was watching way too many celebrity and entertainment shows. But the fact that so many shows exist underscores our ever growing obsession with celebrity and fame. Either we hunger for news about this or that celebrity, or we long to become one ourselves. So it's no surprise that an ever growing publication and broadcast industry has exploded centering around the fame game. But the funny thing is no matter how horny, crazed, alcohol and drug addicted, marrying and divorcing celebrities are, they don't seem to do this at a fast enough rate to fill all those publication pages or broadcast time. One solution has been the time-honored practice of fabricating stories based on half truths, or no truth at all. The other is the Orwellian practice of rumor is truth, and truth is rumor, meaning a news source can report an item as rumor, then others will pick it up and report it until those involved in the rumor have to respond as if the rumor was based in fact.
Just at the right moment the reality TV craze came along just in time to feed the celebrity monster. Now you don't have to accomplish anything in areas like the arts or sports over a period of time. You just have to participate in one of these shows that get decent ratings.
And what do you have to do to qualify? Attempt to sing. Attempt being the key word. If you can actually sing you may launch a professional singing career. If you suck to high heaven, you get a one shot dose of national humiliation. The fame game can be cruel. But hey, fame is fame.
Other roads to fame are right there for you if you're willing to grovel for the attention of some semi-desirable bachelor or bachelorette along with a dozen or so other potential permanent suitors. Or you can journey to some godforsaken island where you will be starved to death, eaten alive by exotic insects, and lied to, backstabbed, and double-crossed by just about every other human being present. All for the chance to win a million dollars. And if you want to extent your fifteen minutes of fame you can do like one winner and not pay taxes and hope the IRS won't notice. Of course that won't work, and the press will be right there to cover your trial and conviction for tax evasion. Another venue for the fame-shame game is the TV talk show. When they run out of real celebrities guests, reality stars will have to do. Check out this talk show exchange: "We're back. I'm Blink Nesbie. And my next guest is London Bridges, heir to the Super Ribbed condom empire, and reality TV star. London, it's great to have you hear." "Yeah, like, it's really cool being here with you. You're kinda cute." "Well thank you. You're a lovely young lady. Now let's talk about your career. It began with your appearance on the reality show Let's Eat Some Insects. What was it like eating so many insects?' "Well, you know, it was kind of cool once you got used to it." "What did they taste like?" "Chicken mostly. Some like sunflower seeds." "Of course," smiled the host. "Before the reality show, you had those sex tapes leak out." "Yeah. That was unfortunate. People say they were dirty sex tapes, but they really weren't." "There was the one where your naked butt was spanked by a guy using raw spaghetti sticks." "Oh yeah. Let me explain that. The guy was a chef at a restaurant my family owns. He had been in a down mood. It was a therapy thing." "But what about the tape of the guy licking chocolate syrup off your nude body?" "I was helping a friend get over an eating disorder." "Really." "Yeah. For sure. I'm not a freaky hoocie. I'm really not."

Star Trek Old School Style

The new Star Trek movie is out, and a big hit, even with reviewers. The saga continues in a unique show business success story. The original show ran three years and was only a moderate hit. But of course, it developed such a cult following that it spawned movies, spin off TV shows, books, and even a Saturday morning cartoon show that was voiced by the original show’s cast.
I’m not an obsessed trekkie, but I was a fan of the original show. For the 1960s it was a pretty innovative. I’m sure it was one of the first shows of that era to cast a black woman in a major co-starring role. In the guise of sci-fi the show dealt with topical issues, something network TV was just beginning to do in any form.
I recall a show in which the Enterprise was invaded by beings that were on the opposite sides of a warring planet. The beings looked human except that half of their bodies were white and black. Color hatred was a major factor in the character’s motivation, the twist being one character was black on the right side of his face and the other was black on the left. By the end of the show the being’s planet had destroyed itself, pointing out the absurdity of the color conflict; a comment on the racial strife that existed in America at the time.


Even William Shatner’s Captain Kirk was innovative. He pioneered the hesitation style of TV acting. Instead of saying a line like:
“Spock, is there sign of life on the planet?”
He would say:
“Spock...............Any sign of life..........on the planet.”
For some reason in the 1960s you could repeat plot points and character lines and nobody seemed to be bothered by it. My favorite repeaters on Star Trek were Kirk and Bones.
Kirk was always challenging alien beings, even those that could wave their arms and send you flying across the room.
Kirk would say lines like:
“You can’t do that I represent the Federation. And that’s not acceptable.”
I always wanted the alien to say:
“Oh, you represent the Federation. Ooooh, I’m scared. F the Federation. And F you. ”
The alien would wave his arm and Kirk would be sent flying across the room. Undaunted, Captain Kirk would get up, brush himself off, and say:
“That’s a nice trick. But I still represent the Federation. And you’re still wrong.”
Throughout the entire series run Bones seemed to have two major dialogue themes. Declaring that he was a doctor and dogging out Spock.
Kirk would say:
“Bones, I want you to beam down with our party.”
Bones reply. “Dammit Jim. I’m a doctor Not a beamer downer ”
Bones always lit into the unemotional, logical Spock. I always wanted him to go completely off.
“Spock, you pointed-eared, green bloodied, emotionless, biscuit eating, dog breathed, no deodorant wearing piece of scum. F you and your logic ”
Old school Star Trek. You have to love it.