PMSimon.com

It was pouring this evening. A band of violent thunderstorms was sweeping across the Tampa area, and the news was full of stories about lightning strikes over the last two days. I was maneuvering my rental car through the Publix parking lot and attempting to find weather information on the radio.

Forget it.

The satellite was, of course, no help- the Tampa traffic and weather channel kept repeating a taped weathercast insisting that there would only be scattered showers and a possible thunderstorm, which was not the case- a look at the NBC affiliate's digital radar channel showed a lot more than scattered showers on the way. But I figured one of the local talk stations would have the information. Most were deep into syndicated and specialty programming. The main Clear Channel talker was in local programming, a local talk show, but the guy didn't have the presence of mind to divert from a deadly boring interview to even mention what was going on outside (and it was outside- the storm was pounding the Clear Channel parking lot when we were a block away floating in the Publix parking lot).

Simple rule, radio folks: when it snows, talk about the snow. When it's raining in biblical volume and lightning bolts are injuring people and setting homes aflame, talk about the rain. At least don't make us wait more than a couple of minutes for a quick update. You want to know why people are fed up with radio? There's one answer.

I shouldn't have to say this stuff over and over. But I guess I do.

 Share

For once, can I get a flight on which I don't have to sit squashed in the middle seat next to a bizarre tall twitchy guy who took off his desert boots to reveal bare stinky feet that he used to kick my ankle for the entire flight? Dude brought an impressive array of junk food on board- oatmeal raisin cookie (which, pulverized, he scattered all over the tray table then stuffed the crumbs in his mouth, the crumbs that didn't, that is, land on the carpet), jumbo Twix, Lay's potato chips, some sort of snack food mix, coffee and Coke- and kept grunting and hunching forward as if he was sending and receiving messages from the home planet. And as soon as the plane hit the tarmac at LAX, he whipped out a cell phone and started furiously dialing.

I could not wait to get off that plane.

So we're back from Tampa. And I'm beat- I'm still on Tampa time (it would be about 9 pm right now- ignore the time stamp below, it's standard time, I guess) and I had to get to work as soon as I arrived here. That is to say, see you tomorrow.

 Share

TV Guide is ditching everything that made it great, because everything that made it great is no longer a winning business proposition. So out go the local listings, and in comes the "Us Weekly"-wannabe pap that slowly took over the front of the book in the last few years. I don't think I need to tell regular readers of this thing that the changes are distressing to me; even though the magazine long ago ceased being relevant, I still liked to browse the listings, even though I didn't exactly USE them (the Dish Network on-screen guide works fine, thank you).

So, in honor of the end of an era, and to save myself some work on a long, exhausting day, here are some scans from vintage guides, circa 1960-66:

Everything old was once new. Allen Ludden was once a hot commodity. "Password" was the rage. I saw the "Odd Couple" episode with Oscar and Felix playing "Password" ("ArisTOPHANES!" "Ridiculous!") the other day. I miss "Password."

For a brief time, the Westinghouse stations thought they could compete in the late-night wars with Mike Wallace; they were so sure that this was the case, they pre-empted Jack Paar from their NBC affiliates (in Boston, Paar aired on the CBS affiliate, WHDH-TV 5 at the time). They were, of course, wrong.

Check out number 4. If she indeed watches "PM," she seems not to be very happy about it. In fact, she appears to be suffering from severe constipation. I'd rather be like number 3.

Nothing says "wholesome family entertainment" like "decapitated clown holding his disembodied head aloft."

I watched this Bozo when I was a kid- any city without its own local Bozo got Boston's version, Frank Avruch. A kid from the audience was chosen each episode to serve as Bozo's sidekick "Butchie Boy." We can leave the interpretation of that to others.

This was an ad for Columbia Records' Christmas offerings. "Warm and Willing"? Sounds like a personal ad in the back of the local weekly, in the "Anything Goes" category. And look at that leer.

I'm sorry, Ned can't be bothered to come pose for a picture. He's on a very important phone call, long distance, you know. ("Hello? Is this 'Warm and Willing'? I saw your ad...")

Nice bow tie, Vance. Tucker Carlson is drooling with envy.

More when I get a chance. (That's a threat AND a promise)

 Share

Sorry, had to take care of some stuff around the house and consequently have nothing left. I'm going to go drool now.

 Share

For years, Moby's trashed Eminem for the latter's misogyny and general incorrectness. And Eminem's taken several shots at Moby, calling him a "girl" and parodying him in "Without Me." Suddenly, though, everything's forgiven and Moby thinks Eminem's just ginchy:

Electronic musician Moby says he has a newfound respect for Michigan rap star Eminem -- who once mocked him in a song -- because the rapper criticized President Bush and the war in Iraq in his last album.

"I found myself respecting him for doing that," Moby told reporters during a promotional stop in Hong Kong for his latest album "Hotel."

The turnaround's complete- now, Moby's making goo-goo eyes at the Emster:

"Honestly, if he retired, I think the world of music would be a poorer place. He's a really fascinating public figure," Moby said.

Moby said he still has qualms about some of Eminem's lyrics but praised him as talented, saying, "I'd much rather have public figure musicians like Eminem because at least he's exciting."

And to think, all Eminem had to do is trash the President.

Politics are- is?- a strange thing. We've been conditioned to forgive a multitude of sins if someone shares a political belief with us. Moby's embracing of a guy he formerly called a woman-hater is similar to the way some folks on the left are willing to overlook the misogyny, anti-Semitism, and brutality of radical Islamic "insurgents," because, after all, they hate Bush and American capitalism and Western values, too, so how bad could they be? And some on the right will have Trent Lott and Rick Santorum's back no matter WHAT they say. The primary core listeners to liberal talk radio love humor-free, bitter Janeane Garofalo because she'll tell them what they want to hear- conservatives are either evil or stupid. Right-wingers eat up Sean Hannity's party-line parroting. They're good guys and gals, see, because they're "JUST LIKE ME." Eminem emasculates Moby, and Moby's suddenly not insulted because, well, Eminem hates Bush.

It's easy to be Moby. Most musicians, most entertainers are anti-Bush, anti-war, all one big "Kumbaya"-singing clan. It DOES strike me often that some of the music I listen to comes from people whose politics I can't stomach. But I still like them, and I still can't say I love Toby Keith even if he's waving the flag. Unlike Moby, I choose to like and dislike artistic endeavors on their own merits. It's the only way I can do it. Otherwise, I'd have an empty iPod.

 Share

On October 20, 1979, eleven years to the day, incidentally, before Fran and I got married, there appeared on CBS a television show so incerdibly special that there's almost no language to do it justice.

Here's the ad:

Daisy Duke vs. Michael Douglas in the marathon isn't anything special, but then you get Barbi Benton vs. Leif Garrett in swimming, which hardly seems fair since she's, er, bouyant and he'd probably sink like a stone(r). And then you hit major paydirt:

Charo vs. Redd Foxx in air hockey.

Charo. Redd Foxx. Air hockey.

Nope. Can't even imagine it. But it happened.

As did the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders taking on whoever was in the Temptations at the time in an obstacle course.

Follow that with Lola Falana- in leopard-skin spandex, no doubt- challenging Gallagher to a rollerskating duel.

Joan Rivers and Howard Hesseman on bicycles sounds like a mismatch- Joan was in her, what, 90s even then. And I could do without Martina and Cosby in tennis. But how did Richard Dawson get roped into double duty? Billiards AND ping-pong- why, he was the Bo Jackson of his era.

And if all of that wasn't enough, you got a "Special Appearance by the San Diego Chicken"!

They just don't make TV like that anymore.

 Share

Stay classy, St. Louis!

(And you thought that movie was fiction)

 Share