"...And The Gold Medal Goes To...."

...NBC, for achieving the record in cramming the highest number of commercials into an hour's viewing time in broadcast history!

I LOVE the winter Olympics and watch all the events that make sense (Curling?  Biathalon?) but this is the first year that I've sustained my own sports injury and had to be carried off the official spectator couch.  Yep -- I'm now sporting a wrist brace for acute carpal tunnel syndrome from running the "fast-forward" and "mute" buttons on my TV's remote.  Seriously -- I'm not kidding.  My  right hand/wrist/forearm HURT!

I record every single thing that I watch - no exception - as I refuse to watch even one commercial, EVER.  My DVR is set to record every minute of the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, which makes it easy to scan through the kazillion hours of events for my favorites.  (I don't know how people watch the Olympic coverage without recording it -- their brain must feel like a pinball machine after all the commercial bombardment.)

NBC's coverage of this Olympics, however, means that for every two minutes of an event shown, we are forced to endure at least eight (or more) 30-60-second commercials  (I didn't watch them -- I counted them on fast-forward).  Since most of the individual events take under five minutes -- many under two minutes -- there's a ratio in there that is appalling, even with my limited mathematical abilities.

Has anyone told NBC that DVRs exist and I can't be the only person skipping their revenue-producing commercials?  No?  Then let the selling begin! 

I've long thought that some electronics genius could make a Bill Gates'-sized fortune if he/she perfected a way to interrupt the telecast just before each commercial and then resume play when the actual program starts again.  I know you can't patent an idea, but if you're reading this, genius person, I want a cut of the profits.

I know nothing about programming or the economics of producing a two-week event in a remote location, so this is from a laywoman's perspective -- but holy cow!  I wish I owned stock in GE, which is NBC's parent company.  I suspect they're making big bucks for their mediocre coverage.

Mediocre coverage?  Yeah -- in my opinion.  I know we're the USA and we're supporting the USA Team -- rah, rah, and all that -- and we have garnered the highest number of medals so far.  Yay for us.  But the NBC coverage I've watched has been limited to US athletes with those few from other countries who were direct competitors.  We're seeing about one-third, or fewer, of the competitors in each event.  Doesn't it seem a little weird that they show wall-to-wall coverage of cross-country skiing but only the top eight or so of speed or figure skating competitors?  It does to me.  Coincidentally, these are also the media "stars"  (spoiled brats)  with the cloying profiles put together by -- you guessed it -- NBC.

And my injury with the mute button?  As long as I'm bitching -- why does the proximity of a microphone mean that the person behind it has to talk through EVERY SECOND of every event?  It's as bad as NFL football coverage.

I appreciate a brief explanation of technique, particularly in something as wacky as half-pipe snowboarding or the terrifying danger of downhill -- but good grief!  I don't need commentary about every edge of a snowboard or ski, and I resent the wiseass commentator pointing out each imagined "mistake" when he's not up on that icy hill risking that wise ass -- even if he is basking in former Olympic glory.

The notable exception has been the restrained and very gracious commentary from Scott Hamilton and Sandra Bezic, who have had little to say during the actual performance, not talking over the music and the skating.  Ice dancing, unfortunately, will apparently be a different story with blabbering Tracy Wilson at the mike.

On a kinder note -- who knew British Columbia was so fabulously beautiful?  Check out THIS link.  I'm saving my pennies for my next vacation -- if I have any left after my medical expenses for my Olympic injury.

P.S.  Don't forget THIS link -- my adventure is only six weeks away.  Vive la France!

Resolutions For Everyone Else

Tonight's finale of the holiday season, the advent of 2008, will be celebrated with champagne and fireworks, along with the promise of a full day of football and hangovers. Tomorrow also brings those annoying resolutions we're supposed to be making.

Since I've never been able to maintain any resolution longer than a couple of weeks, I've written a few new-leaf policies for the rest of the world.

• All terrorists, military, paramilitary, rabble-rousing personnel and those commanding them, put the guns down and go home. We've had enough of war and violence. Just stop it.
• There will be a little white pill next to everyone's toothpaste tomorrow morning. It will permanently eliminate your craving for junk food, alcohol, celebrity worship, tobacco, rap "music" and anorectic women. Take the pill. The only side effect from it will be an uncontrollable desire to eat broccoli. Take it anyway... there's a lot of cheap broccoli available.
  
• Every word about "the green movement" will be researched, documented and proven before it's written or spoken. All solutions to global warming, and industrially-caused global warming itself, must be declared objectively factual before we hear one more syllable about it.
  
• The theme music for all network news and political commentary TV shows will be the Shut Up Song by the Black Eyed Peas. (There's a version at the bottom of this column entitled "Drew Lachey's Tango") If you don't know the lyrics, they go like this.

  Shut up
  Just shut up
  Shut up [3x]
  Shut it up, just shut up
  Shut up
  Just shut up
  Shut up [3x]
  Shut it up, just shut up.

• We have far too many State and Federal laws. We have more laws than any citizenry can ever be expected to follow. Enough is enough. All legislators, go home. Take the next four years off. We don't need any more laws. Don't give us that song and dance about also being responsible for passing budgets. You don't do it on time and you never balance them. We'll keep the 2007 budget in place until 2011. Just keep printing the checks and we promise we'll pay all the taxes we legitimately owe. You keep your word, we'll keep ours.
  
• Whoever is in charge of equalizing the value of the dollar to the Euro and Pound -- do it. It's getting too expensive to travel in Europe and I still haven't been to The Netherlands, Ireland or Provence.
  
• American consumers, please realize you can't have it both ways. You can't buy everything marked down 250% and expect quality products made in America. Did you know you can buy a very sophisticated (Japanese) laser printer for $129? I remember when an extremely slow, serially connected dot matrix printer sold for $500. As long as we're taking advantage of low prices for almost everything (excluding food and big fat cars), I don't think we have room to complain about the source or even the quality. You might want to learn the lyrics to "Shut Up."
• All teenagers (you know who you are) buy some damn jeans that fit. What possible sense does it make to wear your back pockets around your knees, your cuffs under your feet, and have the crotch of your pants hobble your thighs? It isn't cool, it looks like hell.
  
• Guns don't kill people, bullets do, so you NRA members and sympathizers can keep your guns. The ammunition makers are going out of business at midnight tonight. Sorry.
  
• Maybe the legislators on vacation can meet in Peoria, or somewhere equally as exciting, and consider serious election reform, the line item veto and the other white meat.
  
• All magazines, TV programs and online articles on losing weight, getting fit and staying in shape will be prohibited from accepting advertising from food companies. I find it beyond irony, well into madness, to read a very serious article filled with good advice on getting and staying healthy, only to have the next full page, commercial or side columns of the screen devoted to grandma's recipes for butterscotch chocolate peanut butter cherry key lime whipped cream upside down cheesecake.
  
• And that reminds me. All nonfiction writers get to take the same four years off that the legislators do. We don't need any more advice about anything... it's all been written in the last 25 years.
• While I'm on the subject, there will be no more remakes of great, Academy Award-winning films. They always suck, and what's the point? Remake bad films into good ones, if you can't come up with anything original. Hint: Start with the new Miami Vice movie.
  

Oh, I could go on and on. It's so easy to sit here in my cozy, warm house and see solutions for the world's problems.... it keeps me from making a list of resolutions for my own life.

So -- Happy New Year! May you remain steadfast in all of your resolutions and may those flying pigs get off the ground soon.

"...And Now, A Word From Your Local Station..."

If national network news is the scary mouth of the liberal wing, local news is Dr. Seuss.

Since the night lovers have graciously returned the hour of daylight stolen from morning people in the spring (now that it doesn't do any good,) my evening walk commences about 4:15, so that I'm not trudging around knee deep in darkness and fallen leaves. Last night my entire hour's walk was accompanied by the machine-gun ack ack ack of two helicopters flying in low, slow, wide circles just east of my neighborhood route.

Annoyed and curious, I flipped on the local news when I returned and, yep, there it was, broadcast in high definition and looking like Chevy Chase's Christmas lights -- the headlights and taillight's of a massive commute traffic jam on the freeway nearest my house, causing a backup for five miles in each direction and effectively closing off all exits.

High drama and truly newsworthy, right? The irritating helicopters didn't vanish for at least another hour, so I have to assume there was award-winning video being transmitted all over Northern California of...traffic.

I know local news by definition covers local issues, and traffic is certainly a serious local concern here. The State government based downtown is surely the area's largest employer, and most of those employees surely live in one of the many nearby suburbs. But really....two hours of helicopter coverage of an accident causing a traffic tie-up? "This is the shot of the freeway at 4:35" "Here's the freeway at 4:42" "Let's go to our live HD copter and see how things look at 4:57" AAARGH! It's a traffic jam - nothing's moving or likely to move. Please, tell us about the latest protest group around the Capitol or the weeping woman whose Christmas gifts for her 14 children were stolen from her car.

I blush now when I remember contemplating my move to this area a few years ago. One of the items on the plus side of my decision list was, "bigger market area - better local news." Well, it's better than the one-horse town I moved from, but not THAT much better. In fact, a few of the reporters from one-horseville have migrated up this way as they gained a little polish and experience and advanced in their careers.

All of the local news channels have adopted the format that has earned "The View" its Emmy awards. You know -- where three or four people sit around a desk and all talk at the same time, so the viewer sees only multiple lips flapping and hands waving and CAN'T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING.

We even have one married couple who is honestly hilarious to watch. He's an older gentleman, very Jimmy Stewartesque in that he can't speak a sentence without umming, duhhing, stopping and starting. She's much younger (or has a good plastic surgeon) and the living, breathing embodiment of the question "why HIM?" She never looks at him or addresses him and seems to be truly embarrassed being on the same planet...while he mumbles along, remaining completely oblivious to most everything - except her. It's cute, funny and only slightly nauseating.

I honestly can't imagine how my parents survived for most of their life without local TV giving them minute-by-minute reports of weather conditions. Seriously. How did they manage without knowing the precise future minute the first raindrop would fall and the exact velocity of the wind at that time? Surely they weren't bright enough to know it gets colder in November in Reno and frost might form? Did they weatherproof their water pipes and gardens all on their own? The true Renaissance couple!

Just over our city's shoulder rises the crest of the mighty Sierra, with ski areas buried under an average of 360 inches of snow annually. We're the gateway to that playground as well as to any state east -- you almost have to come here to get there (unless you're traveling the southern routes, of course.) That makes winter weather a consideration, and wow, do our local stations provide those quarter-hourly updates with wild enthusiasm.

It's apparent policy to start out junior reporters on the weather-watch team, and every year, as predictable as Santa Claus, just after the very first snowflake falls some poor schmuck is rushed up to the wide spot in the road where the second flake will be seen. This vantage point is named Blue Canyon, no doubt for the numbers of smurflike noses, ears, fingers and toes of these sad-sacks who stand on the side of the road, screaming over the howling wind to catalog each and every subsequent snowflake for us.

Last year, one of these goofy guys (who could max out any enthusiometer device just by talking about the rice crop) reported from Blue Canyon right after a significant storm. He was so desperate for us to know how REALLY DEEP the snow was that when words simply failed him he handed off his frozen microphone and jumped into the nearest snow drift, flailing around and making snow reporters. Then, just so we'd really get the picture, he got up and did it again... and again... and again, like a four-year-old kid in a bounce-house.

I thought he was a complete nutbar, but those two minutes of snowy slapstick must have warmed someone's cockles as he's been moved up to weekend anchor. Bye, bye, Blue Canyon -- I wonder what poor newbie reporter is shopping this minute for thigh-high boots?

I'm sure I stand on this viewpoint alone, as I do on so many others...but why oh why is our local weather such a big friggin deal? It's not like we're frozen Minnesota or tornado-ridden Oklahoma, and so far I haven't seen a single monsoon, typhoon or hurricane.

Northern California winters are chilly, windy, rainy, and up in the nearby Sierra snow falls. In spring we have more rain and wind. It's hot in the summer (a few days very hot), and the leaves fall in cool autumn... very predictable. Steve Martin's "Wacky Weather Guy" could get a gig here easily.

Sure - let us know the forecast so we can plan our activities with reasonable certainty, but plotting lines where "this side of the street will be rainy, that side dry" is just beyond ridiculous, in my view.

Well, it's 36 degrees outside as I write this, we have a few clouds but no rain is expected. Relative humidify is 93%, the barometer is steady at 30.17, and the winds are calm at 0 MPH.

I know all that because online weather told me so. No film at 11 needed, thanks anyway.

Finger-Pointing and Hypocrisy

I've just fulfilled my duty as Diana Groupie, watching several (way too many) of the "Princess Diana Specials" that have been shown this weekend in remembrance of the 10th anniversary of her death.

On its regular newscast last night, NBC Nightly News reported a summary of the week's memorial events, along with a brief wrap-up of her life. Of course, they made a point to mention the media glare in which she lived and the negative effects "the media" had had on her life. They also made the point to highlight the fact that the media still puts her front and center... and when will it stop? This, from the network that aired at least three of the specials I watched. They apparently don't consider themselves part of the exploitative media.

It was a common theme throughout all the documentaries I viewed... blaming the media for its abuse and harassment, yet conveniently disassociating from the fact that each documentary is itself part of that circus.

(Every time I type the media I expect to hear Beethoven's Fifth ............."da da da DA")

Every one of her close friends (or who was rumored or claimed to be a close friend) made this same point, over and over... yet it was they who were talking to the media, further extending the phenomenon and sprinkling over themselves a bit of Diana's starshine while they were at it.

There was even a TV special that profiled some of the notorious paparazzi who had followed her relentlessly since 1981 -- including several of the motorcycle cowboys who chased her limo into the tunnel the night she died, and interviews with editors of the trashy tabloids that permeated her public and private life. Every wide-eyed, innocent person, without exception, placed him/herself apart from the rat pack, the others, those bastards who made her life hell. Not one person said, "yeah, I was part of that media mess -- I participated -- I perpetuated the misery then, and I'm still doing it."

Several new books have been published recently about Diana, her life, her humanitarian pursuits, her children, her dresses, her future presence in the world (and here I thought she had died)... even her former chef has written a book about her eating habits. The chef may be an exception, but every other book makes the point of how she suffered from the media...yet every book is one more example of Diana, the glamorous media commodity.

Even her sons, who bore much of the burden of her out-of-control celebrity, participated in the coverage by interviewing with Matt Lauer last month. Sure, this was to publicize the memorial concert they produced, and also possibly to control the continuing coverage... but still, they too became a part of the puzzling dichotomy of love/hate, use/abuse relations with the media.

Am I the only one who sees the irony in this?

With rare exceptions, Prince Charles, Camilla, Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip are generally portrayed in these documentaries as The Royal Villains -- for reasons we are all too familiar with, and also for some new, very bizarre and improbable conspiracy theories. How ironic it is that The Royals, with all their faults and their collective culpability, are the only major players who don't feed the media monster, whereas her friends and supporters jump at every opportunity.

There's probably another layer of irony as I, too, am writing about Diana while bitching about her ubiquitous media coverage. Maybe I'm safe, though... the jury is still out on the question of blogs being considered "the media." ............... da da da DA!