The First Echo

THEME SONG OF THE MONTH: FEBRUARY 2012

2012-02-07T15:33:00.000-08:00

My jam this month isn't a brand spankin' new single. In fact, Ola's "All Over The World" was released overseas last summer, and regrettably I had to find out about it now. The track is pure, unadulterated Eurotrash pop. But it's digestible Eurotrash pop.

While I expected the video to feature the Swedish pop singer globetrotting across different continents with a bevy of babes following him (as the chorus would instruct), I realized that concept would probably involve a production budget as big as Gaga's last three epics combined. Therefore, whoever shot the music video apparently took the lyric "follow me all over the world" to mean "let's walk around New York City late at night and see what happens."

Enjoy:

BRANDY & MONICA...AND IT'S 1998 ALL OVER AGAIN

2012-02-06T14:43:00.000-08:00

Feels like I've been waiting for this sequel to "The Boy Is Mine" for years.

It's been 14 years since we heard the R&B divas trade lyrics about the triflin' men in their lives. Who knew the magic would repeat in 2012? Listen to the new track, "It All Belongs To Me" below (and don't mind me while I flashback to my senior year of high school):

If the above doesn't work, try HERE or below...and feel the nostalgia:

SPLENDOR: THE 2012 SPRING PLAYLIST, Vol. 1

2012-02-03T12:59:00.001-08:00

If you're already pining for those April showers that bring May flowers and would like to get rid of those scarves and winter coats, then feast your eyes (and ears) on the following choice cuts. It may be February, but we can jump ahead of the season, can't we? And who cares what that groundhog said? These should hold you over till you start smelling that freshly cut grass and picking out patterns for your Easter eggs.

Caution: Some serious beats await you towards the end of this compilation.

1. "Next to Me" by Emeli Sande - The recent Brit Award winner is making waves with her debut single, a rollicking piano-driven jam featuring a rejoicing chorus. Here's hoping that she finds at least a fraction of Adele's success here in the States:

2. "Somebody That I Used To Know" by Gotye feat. Kimbra - Already placed in my top faves of 2012, this Belgian-Australian musician's got a haunting set of pipes. And may I strongly suggest trying out the exquisite Myndset remix. Oh, and the video's pretty cool too.
3. "Fair Warning" by Penguin Prison - This fratboy-lookin' fella's real name is Chris Glover. He hails from the musically rich subterranean scenes of New York City. And he wants you to succumb to his electronic, funky ways. Do it.

4. "Wild Ones" by Flo Rida feat. Sia - As derivative as Flo has become, I'm only tuning in for Sia's kickass vocals on this dance single, which should rightfully propel her into a bigger spotlight. If you've listened to her collaboration with David Guetta on "Titanium," then you know what I'm talking about.
5. "Midnight City" by M83 - This wonderful slice of alternative/electro-pop should've been placed on my fall mix, but sadly the awesome synths and sax of this single weren't brought to my attention until recently. And neither was the Village-Of-The-Damned-influenced video:

6. "Sorry For Party Rocking" by LMFAO
7. "New Lands" by Justice - It's like 2012 gave 1982 a makeover...Just try it. Trust me.
8. "Paddling Out" by Miike Snow
9. "Dark Side" by Kelly Clarkson - The original Idol serves up a pleasant piece of pop-rock accented by a slightly eerie nursery chime. Embrace your darkness, Kelly? With relish.
10. "Sorry for Party Rocking" by LMFAO
11. "I Won't Give Up" by Jason Mraz
12. "Don't Gotta Work It Out" by Fitz & The Tantrums
13. "Cry (Just A Little) (Radio Edit)" by Bingo Players
14. "All Over The World" by Ola - Unabashedly Euro and undeniably irresistible.
15. "The Island Part I (Dawn)" by Pendulum - The drum-and-bass trio from Australia offer up a hard-hitting anthem suitable for any Ibiza party...or a drive up the coast with a beach bag in the backseat. Forget that chill in the air. Summer's arrived early, kids (if you wanna get straight to the vocals, skip ahead to the 1:30 mark):

16. "Cinema (Skrillex Remix)" by Benny Benassi feat. Gary Go
17. "Stay Gold" by The Big Pink
18. "Feel It All Around" by Washed Out - I'm a little late to the Portlandia party, so I'm including the IFC comedy's theme song here as it is the perfect chillout number for a late-night drive...or a bong session in your neighbor's living room.
19. "Best Night" by LMFAO feat. will.i.am & Eva Simons - If you're already fed up with "Sorry For Party Rocking," then settle into the rhythms of this ode to jetsetting and carefree nights with some random chick you picked up in a club.
20. "These Times" by SafetySuit
21. "The One That Got Away (Acoustic)" by Katy Perry
22. "We Run The Night" by Havana Brown feat. Pitbull - For those suffering from Pitbull overkill, suck it up and soak up the "loud bass" and vocals of this Australian DJ while picturing yourself riding the 6 train into Manhattan on a Friday night (or is that just me?). This is also for every fist-pumping Sal, Mike, and Tony down on the Jersey Shore. Get it HERE.
23. "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'" by the Glee Cast - A respectable redo brought to you by the white-boy funkiness of Darren Criss.

You're welcome.

H.P.M.

*PS - Believe it or not, Volume 2 isn't too far behind...

MERYL STREEP VS. GLENN CLOSE

2012-02-03T12:24:00.004-08:00

Shortly after the holidays those fashionable fellows over at Bello Mag had asked me to write for their Entertainment section, particularly for their 32nd issue (now available at the App Newsstand for iPads and iPhones). And what you see above and below are the two pieces I contributed: my 2012 movie preview and a little blurb on the Oscar race (click on the images for a closer peek).

MY BEEF WITH KIDZ BOP

2012-02-02T14:35:00.018-08:00

At first I thought it was a joke.

Several years ago I came across a CD in a store that appeared to be some kind of rip-off of the NOW! That's What I Call Music series. Only these Top 40 hits were redone for the 8-and-under crowd. Kids singing Britney Spears? And Bret Michaels? And -- wait for it -- The Beatles? I had to do a double take. "This is all kinds of wrong," I told myself.

Just how many kinds of wrong?

First of all, I wouldn't advise current pop artists to give this organization the rights to rape their songs with cheesier renditions of already cheesy singles.

And editing suggestive lyrics to accommodate these versions does a disservice to the songwriters. Case in point: Below is the video for Lady Gaga's "The Edge of Glory," as interpreted by a bunch of smiling, zit-free teens who, in reality, probably illegally downloaded Born This Way onto their smartphones during recess.

Changing my favorite lyric of the song from, "It isn't hell if everybody knows my name" to "It's just as well if everybody knows my name" isn't just an epic fail, it's a slap in the face to Gaga herself. An epic pop number about an epic, eternal love has been criminally cheapened and reformatted for a wider appeal that never needed widening in the first place.

Worse than your average track from a Radio Disney broadcast, these songs may be another way for artists to earn some extra cash -- who can blame them in today's music industry climate? -- but enough is enough. Are elementary schoolkids really eating this up? They must be, because Kidz Bop recently released Volume 21. That's twenty-one CDs of sugar-coated tunes aimed at kindergarteners and children whose overprotective parents probably shield their eyes from shows like Glee and Modern Family. And this doesn't even include the numerous special editions such as Kidz Bop Sings Monster Ballads, Kidz Bop 80s Gold, Kidz Bop Country, and -- someone surgically remove my ears should I ever find myself trapped on a road trip with this -- Kidz Bop Car Songs.

From what I can remember, no one thought it was necessary to reproduce Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me" or George Michael's "Faith" when I was a wee lad back in the 80s. When those songs came on the radio, I bopped along, totally clueless to what they were really about. All I knew was that they had some good beats and catchy harmonies. Most of the time it was just noise in the background.

And true, Kids Incorporated, the children's television show that featured performances of popular songs, seemed to have wooed most of my peers back in the day, but when all was said and done, we still preferred the real things. As much as we may have been entertained seeing kids like us star in their own music videos (a fantasy I remember having since the age of 5), we knew they were just hollow, plastic replicas. But isn't that the very nature of pop music, that it's manufactured for the masses? Ah, the dichotomy of it all!

As for the kid singers/actors/dancers featured in these videos I wonder how many of them were pushed into these productions by fame-hungry parents who are grooming them for their inevitable auditions on American Idol, The Voice, and The X Factor. Is Kidz Bop just another training ground for the next generation of reality stars, pop idols, and Nickelodeon personalities? All signs point to: most likely. And with a DIY platform like YouTube cranking out pop star wannabes every day, the market is getting flooded at a faster rate.

And you know what happens when the floogates open. We all start, well...drowning:

H.P.M.

BABY'S FIRST PODCAST

2012-01-30T10:56:00.000-08:00

The good folks at Picktainment were kind/crazy enough to let me verbally share my thoughts on the recently released Sam Worthington thriller, Man On A Ledge. As much as I hate hearing my voice on playback, I must say it was a nifty, little experience. If you're not one for listening, then you can read my full review over HERE, in which I also question the casting of Kyra Sedgwick as a Latina TV reporter (yeah). Teaser: Jamie Bell and newcomer Genesis Rodriguez steal the movie. And if you'd like to tune into my inane chatter, then click below. My debut comes in at the 10:18 mark:

Listen to internet radio with Picktainment on Blog Talk Radio

Thanks to Phil Wallace and his Picktainment team for going easy on this podcast virgin. I look forward to more in the future.

H.P.M.

HOT NAKED GIRLS

2012-01-26T13:34:00.000-08:00

In an attempt to see if keywords in the title of a post truly influence the number of page views, I have given this entry the above name. Consider this an experiment I'm conducting while doing my part on a soon-to-be-launched news site that's been in the works for the past two years (let's just say that I've been given the title Entertainment Editor). Exciting stuff.

Of course you won't see any buxom females in the nude here. I'm sure that would be in violation of the Blogger (my publisher) code of conduct. Actually, blogs that feature "adult content" and run through these types of publishers usually ask visitors to click through a prompt asking them if they either a.) accept their terms and conditions b.) promise not to be offended by said content or c.) are over 18 years of age (Some of you out there know exactly what I'm talking about).

Regardless, I'd like to think that I wouldn't have to resort to such desperate tactics. Unless...I've fallen into the Trap of Hypocrisy as I write this.

Oh well. Off to go watch Oprah interview the cast of Roots...

H.P.M.

SHIT SHIT SAYS

2012-01-21T15:24:00.001-08:00

Even though I don't have the time or patience to edit a montage of funny quotes, I figured I might as well jump on the bandwagon/overdone trend and offer this up to the Internet gods.

Please feel free to share, tweet, and repost to your heart's content.

H.P.M.

THEME SONG OF THE MONTH: JANUARY 2012

2012-01-17T14:38:00.001-08:00

For those who know me, this month's pick will seem like a giant departure from my usual pop fare. No synths? No dubstep? No Top 40/club potential? Yes, my current obsession involves none of the above but includes some haunting vocals I can't get out of my head.

Gotye (I'm still figuring out how it's pronounced) is a Belgian musician who's starting appear on the radars of American rock stations...and bringing on a serious Jim Morrison vibe. I happened to catch "Somebody That I Used To Know" when my alarm clock radio went off one morning. Even though I was half asleep, I grabbed my iPhone off the nightstand and immediately Shazamed it...and I'm so glad I did.

And whaddya know? The video for this beautifully simple single is equally quirky yet mesmerizing (just wait for that chorus):

RANDOM THOUGHT OF THE WEEK #29

2012-01-14T14:52:00.000-08:00

What is it about a just-delivered box of fresh office supplies that gets everyone in the office to turn into 7-year-olds waking up on Christmas morning?

WORLD WIDE WIDTH

2012-01-12T15:21:00.000-08:00

I've been blessed with what my mother refers to as "pork chop feet."

It's neither a sizable trust fund, an antique jewelry box, nor a collection of vintage hardcover novels that I have inherited from both my mother and my father. No, what has been passed down to me is the inconvenient genetic anomaly that is wide feet.

The above image is a picture of a Brannock device, a tool I was familiar with every time my mother would take me to the mall to buy new shoes for the school year. Placing my foot on the cool metal, the salesman would always comment on how wide my foot was (and that I've grown another inch!). Having wide feet was, and still is, a pain in the ass. It was especially frustrating back then because I was relegated to certain brands of sneakers or, as a private school brat, brown loafers or black lace-ups. I could never wear the popular brands my friends were wearing. No Nikes, no Adidas, no Reebok. While young boys my age were running around in their trendy trainers and athlete-endorsed footwear, showing off their new pairs of aerodynamically named kicks, I was stuck sitting next to my fat-footed brethren at my local Thom McCann and being measured for a brand of sneaker called MacGregor. Snazzy name, no? What sounded more like the name of a hot-tempered Scottish bartender turned out to be my (affordable) sneaker of choice throughout most of my middle-school career. It was an unfashionably plain white shoe with traces of forest green. It closely resembled a golf cleat, the kind middle-aged men would wear out on the courses along with their hideously designed polos.

Whether it granted me the ability to leap like Michael Jordan or sprint like an Olympian, I never knew. At that age - probably 12 - one would most likely find me participating in some not-so-sporty activities like studying that week's TV Guide, searching for Waldo, or handwriting a short horror story in a spiral notebook after having read an inspiring novel about a group of prom queens being murdered one by one.

If I wasn't shopping for shoes at Thom McCann, I was accompanying my mother to the Naturalizer store in Yonkers, a retailer known for their wide width selections, and sitting next to women with names like Agnes and Edith, hearing them bicker about which orthopedics are best to wear on a bus trip to Atlantic City. Such was my childhood.

Looking on the bright side of it all, I never had the urge to buy the sleekest (and priciest) sneakers money could buy. I never had to beg my parents for a pair of black Air Jordans or slick, multicolored Adidas tennis shoes. Thus the chances of a bully threatening to steal my designer sneaks were low. I didn't have to worry about the neighborhood meanie sending me home barefoot in the rain a la About a Boy. Did I miss out? I don't know. I had other obsessions (the aforementioned above) and concerns to keep me occupied as I made the universally awkward transition into adolescence and young adulthood.

Luckily, by the time I reached college, I discovered Sketchers and New Balance, brands that were wide-width-friendly and opened my eyes to a variety of designs that welcomed my feet with open laces. No longer was I trapped in a world of ugly footwear. No longer did I have to be ushered to the back of the shoe store in an attempt to find the perfect pair that would hold my pork chop paws.

Free feet at last, free feet at last. Thank God Almighty, I have free feet at last.

H.P.M.

*Anyone with wide feet got a story to share? Some frustration to vent?

10 REASONS WHY DOWNTON ABBEY IS THE NEW CRACK

2012-01-10T21:55:00.000-08:00

It took me a year to finally hunker down and see what some of my friends were raving (or tweeting) about back in 2011. A British costume drama? On PBS? Is it a remake? Well, at least it's got Dame Maggie Smith, and you know I just looooove me some Dame Maggie Smith...

Ladies and gents, I can honestly say that after watching - no, consuming - all seven episodes from the first season on Netflix and catching the two-hour second season premiere earlier this week, I am hooked. Actually, more than hooked. Obsessed.

And it looks like Brian Moylan over at Gawker has already articulated why my Downton Fever is growing by the day. Check out his explanatory breakdown here. I couldn't have said it better myself.

That said, allow me to offer some other explanations as to why I, and the rest of America, can't get enough of this engrossing slice of British television:

1. I consider myself an Anglophile, and for me, this is almost like porn.
2. The producers and writer/creator Julian Fellowes have created a miracle: electrifying chemistry amongst all twenty - yes 20 - characters and a pacing style that keeps us hanging on every scene, every line of dialogue, every inquisitive stare.
3. It's a more intelligent Dynasty...with British accents: Love affairs. Scandalous secrets. Oh, and World War I.
4. The opening theme song. It's an elegant score that perfectly captures the drama and melancholia which runs throughout that countryside manor.
5. Those piercing blue eyes of Matthew Crawley (Dan Stevens).
6. The sinister schemes and seductive glares of Thomas, the repressed footman (Rob James-Collier, right).
7. Those dinners in the dining room make me salivate every time a dish is served (not to mention those finger sandwiches with afternoon tea).
8. The star-crossed romance between Bates and Anna.
9. The star-crossed romance between Mary and Matthew.
10. Two words: Maggie. Smith.

H.P.M.

20 YEARS AGO: THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE CRADLE

2012-01-05T13:12:00.000-08:00

Twenty years ago this month, one film was responsible for the surge in nanny-cam sales across America: The Hand That Rocks The Cradle.

Directed by Curtis Hanson, who would later go on to helm critically-acclaimed dramas like L.A. Confidential, Wonder Boys, and In Her Shoes, the film starred Rebecca De Mornay as Peyton Flanders, a vengeful widow who infiltrates a happy Seattle family in order to wreak havoc on Claire Bartel (Annabella Sciorra), the woman responsible for ruining her husband's life (he was a gynecologist molesting his patients, so he had it coming). And to make matters worse, Peyton suffers a miscarriage and goes off the deep end, becoming hellbent on making Claire's family hers.

Fans of Julianne Moore will be happy to see the redheaded actress in her early years - before she became Julianne Freakin' Moore - playing the role of Marlene Craven, Friend Who Learns A Deadly Secret And Pays The Price. The feisty, chain-smoking real estate agent, who also gets the titular line in a dinner scene ("The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world"), has an unfortunate run-in with several panes of glass in a greenhouse halfway through the film, a booby-trap intended for the asthmatic Claire. However, Psycho Nanny's got a conveniently wicked back-up plan: she empties all of the medicated inhalers in the house, so when Claire finds Marlene's bloody body, she nearly suffocates and dies herself. Peyton's got all the bases covered. *PS - check out that car phone!

I first saw the movie with my father during a weekend matinee at Bay Plaza in the Bronx when I was 11. It was the second R-rated film I ever saw in a theater, and the audience couldn't have made it a more memorable experience. When Solomon (Ernie Hudson, finally getting some work after Ghostbusters 2), returns in the end to rescue little Emma from the delusional nanny from hell, a man sitting in our row jumped up and hollered at the screen. And when Peyton finally gets her due (SPOILER ALERT) and is pushed out the attic window, falling onto the family's white picket fence, the theater erupted in cheers. It was as if we were watching a ballgame over at Shea Stadium. *Remember: this was the Bronx.

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle was produced on a budget of $7 million and went on to gross over $88 million at the U.S. box office. If you ask me, that buys a lot of baby food and breast pumps.

And my favorite scene? Peyton goes up to a 5-year-old bully in a playground, twists his arm, and snarls, "Leave Emma alone. If you don't, I'm gonna rip your fucking head off."

Now there's something you won't see in an anti-bullying PSA.

H.P.M.

WHO IS THE LOS ANGELES ARSONIST?

2012-01-03T09:31:00.000-08:00

As some of you may have seen in the news, a serial arsonist has been terrorizing the city of Los Angeles, particularly in the neighborhoods of West Hollywood. While this is truly a horrible chain of events (53 fires!), it's hard to believe that this is the job of one person. Although a suspect has been apprehended, a 24-year-old Canadian dude named Harry Burkhart (below) who's been pissed about his mom's deportation to Germany, I can't help but wonder if others were involved in setting this city ablaze.

Hence my own list of suspects...because you never know.

Suspect #1: Disgruntled Starbucks Barista - He's served thousands of lattes to unappreciative Angelenos, is mad as hell, and he's not gonna take it anymore!

Suspect #2: Lindsay Lohan - Because she's doing research for the role she wishes to covet in the Firestarter reboot.

Suspect #3: Michael Bay's Pyrotechnician - He was pissed when he found out he wasn't hired for Transformers 4.

Suspect #4: Some Guy Who Really Hates Driving - In an attempt to demonstrate how dependent we've all become on our cars, he sees himself as a revolutionary, torching - in his words - "the machines that have shaped every aspect of this metropolis and turned us all into commuting zombies."

Suspect #5: The "Rosas" Lady - Usually seen soliciting drinkers at The Abbey, she finally lost her patience with the superficial and indifferent crowds and...snapped. Notice how absent she's been lately on Santa Monica Boulevard. Just sayin'.

Suspect #6: Satan - Los Angeles has always been perceived as a modern-day Sodom (or Gomorrah), and the Devil Himself would like to make that a reality and literally turn L.A. into the City of Demons.

Suspect #7: Squirrels - Their resilience is stronger than ever, and their plan to take over the city is finally coming together. All those years sharpening their teeth on acorns was really just a way to build up their stamina when gnawing through electrical wires.

Any witnesses who would like to come forward and point a finger at the perpetrator(s) in a lineup are welcome to do so.

H.P.M.

TWENTY12: Another Winter Playlist

2012-01-02T11:11:00.000-08:00

Now that the big shiny ball in Times Square has dropped and you've sworn off all food after surviving multiple holiday feasts, a fresh outlook on life is called for - and you'll need the right soundtrack to help you start things anew. Here are some tunes for the new year, the sound of the future, the music of the Here and Now.

Get on it:

1. "Shady Love" by Scissor Sisters
2. "Where Have You Been?" by Rihanna - Taking dubstep to the next level. If this isn't her next single, then someone at her record label needs to be fired.
3. "Move On U" by The Saturdays - A current guilty pleasure.
4. "Levels (Radio Edit)" by Avicii
5. "I'm In Love" by Alex Gaudino
6. "Tonight Is The Night" by Outasight - LMFAO's sleazier cousin.
7. "Anyway" by Cee-Lo Green
8. "Bridge of Light" by Pink
9. "Dark Side" by Kelly Clarkson - Kelly shows us some insecurities in this sparkling gem that's loaded with potential for singledom:

10. "Love After War" by Robin Thicke
11. "In Case You Didn't Know" by Olly Murs - "Is this Bruno Mars?" my mother once asked me while I played Olly for her in the car. Could very well be. Could very well be Britain's answer to America's current crooner.
12. "As Long As We Got Love" by Javier Colon feat. Natasha Bedingfield
13. "Turn It Off" by The Wanted
14. "Sky Falls Down" by Eric Saade feat. J-Son
15. "Viva Las Vegas" by Aqua
16. "Alive (Radio Edit)" by Adrian Lux feat. The Good Natured:

17. "Body Work (Club Mix)" by Morgan Page feat. Tegan and Sara
18. "T.H.E. (The Hardest Ever)" by will.i.am feat. Mick Jagger and Jennifer Lopez - True, it'd be much better without the will.i.am part.
19. "What We Can Do (A Deeper Love)" by Tiesto
20. "Love Get Out Of My Way" by Monarchy
21. "Take Care" by Drake feat. Rihanna
22. "Better Than I Know Myself" by Adam Lambert - Although I would've preferred a dancier single, Glambert gives us a glimpse of his sophomoric effort with this Dr. Luke-produced power ballad.

Happy New Year.

H.P.M.

...In Bed

2012-01-01T20:15:00.000-08:00

I knew it was talented but this is quite the compliment.

BLOG OF THE YEAR: A 2011 Review

2011-12-21T18:45:00.000-08:00

2011 was what I consider The Year of the Departure.

Oprah, Regis, Meredith Viera, and Susan Lucci all said goodbye to their daytime audiences. Katie Couric peaced out on the CBS Evening News. Harry Potter finally bid adieu to Hogwarts. The Walker clan danced into that good night on Brothers & Sisters (to Lady Gaga no less). Steve Jobs and Amy Winehouse left us too soon. And yours truly left a comfy position at Anonymous Content after four-and-a-half years of working in commercial production. It seems like wherever you turned, someone was embarking on a new chapter of his or her life, whether voluntarily or not, in the first year of this new decade.

Joining the unemployment ranks, I did what any jobless/freelance schmo would do - buy an iPhone 4, go to Vegas, and accumulate enough fast-food receipts to form a sizable pile on my desk at home. 2011 was the year I got in touch with my "inner artist" and attempted to live the life of a writer - whatever that is. In theory, it's a romanticized period spent sitting with my laptop in different coffeeshops every week, meeting a handful of deadlines, taking in a few movies here and there, going to the gym on my own time, and having the liberty to pursue whatever (or whoever) I want. In reality, it involves getting increasingly familiar with daytime television (I'd like to have lunch with Wendy Williams and Anderson Cooper - at the same time), maintaining my dignity with an occasional ramen noodle dinner, fighting with my bank to refund an overdraft charge or two (or seven), and ignoring the incessant phone calls from student loan collectors. But hey, at least someone was crazy enough to give me my own TV column!

And I must admit that getting a chance to meet and interview the likes of Justin Timberlake, Eric Bana, Rachel McAdams, Will Ferrell, and Henry Cavill for that other little blog of mine proved to be a sweet perk I enjoyed throughout the past year.

In other words, I've collected tons of fodder for future memoirs. But this being the end of another year, as usual, I'd like to look back and revisit the facets of the popular culture that has, in the words of Mother Monster, "become our religion."

Who's ready to reflect and pray with me?

FILM PICKS OF 2011

"What world are you living in? I don't need friends. I need fans."
- Jill Roberts, Scream 4

Besides Harry Potter breaking records in July, I broke my own personal record in moviegoing attendance (80+ films in theaters - granted, one-third of these included press, festival, and premiere screenings...and yes, I keep a log of when and what I see). And after sitting through hours of cinematic treats (Gwyneth Paltrow dies in the first ten minutes of a film!) and treacle (Really? Edward eats out Bella's baby? Wait, that didn't come out right), I've come up with ten particular movies that stood out and captivated me. These are the films that did more than just tickle my fancy. They inspired, they broke ground, and they re-instilled my belief that Hollywood hasn't totally fallen into the crapper with its relentless reboots, reunions, and regurgitated ideas:

1. Weekend - This little indie that came out of nowhere gave moviegoers one of the most heartbreaking and honest portrayals of contemporary romance. Writer-director Andrew Haigh's intensely intimate British love story is the Before Sunrise for the Grindr generation, a three-day glimpse into the lives of two Nottingham blokes (Tom Cullen and Chris New) that reassures us - regardless of religion, race, or sexuality - the most tender and the most important connections made are human ones. Clearly demonstrating that the struggle for an authentic life is universal and comes in all forms, Weekend is ultimately about the search for identity and the importance of making a passionate commitment to one's life. The New York Times said it best: It's "astonishingly self-assured, unassumingly profound, and one of the most satisfying love stories you are likely to see on screen."

2. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Part 2 - An enormously satisfying conclusion to the biggest franchise in film history, Harry & Co. went out with several bangs, plenty of deaths, and an emotional wallop that stayed with us long after the final credits rolled. Every story, every bit-part player (Emma Thompson gets three seconds of screen time, and we're still blown away!), and every magical nook and cranny came together with expert precision like cogs in an enchanted machine. All in all, a 10-year investment (2001-2011) that definitely paid off. Easily the best experience I had in the theater all year.

3. Beginners - Christopher Plummer will most likely be overlooked by the Academy for his gentle performance as Hal, a 75-year-old man who discovers his true self, in Mike Mills's semi-autobiographical character study. Ewan McGregor and the magnetic Melanie Laurent respectively give fine performances as Oliver and Anna, Hal's struggling son and the woman he falls for. And three cheers for that subtitle-communicating Jack Russell Terrier.

4. Super 8 - My favorite action film of the year provides a much-needed reminder of how magical movies - particularly summer ones - can be. Featuring the best young cast since 1986's Stand By Me, every scene of J.J. Abrams's Spielbergian mash-up of Close Encounters and The Goonies is a thrillingly paced, character-driven adventure. It's also a tender portrait of a pre-XBox, pre-YouTube, pre-iPhone generation that once created their own fun rather than constantly consumed it.

5. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo - Besides featuring an opening credits sequence that would rival any 007 intro, David Fincher's masterfully balanced adaptation of the international bestseller is packed with so much info, so much character, so much story, none of it is ever lost on the audience - a cinematic miracle. Fans of the original Swedish trilogy who feared a sterile Americanization should breathe a sigh of relief. Nothing's been compromised; the nasty bits have been kept intact, and Rooney Mara is a solid Lisbeth Salander. You can say otherwise. Just don't fuck with her laptop.

6. Page One: Inside the New York Times - A top-notch, suspenseful thriller about the impending doom of a global institution...and it's a documentary. Andrew Rossi's unprecedented inside-look at the most famous newspaper in the world also paints a portrait of the faces behind the renowned content and reveals just how endangered of a species print media is. Journalist David Carr, whom most of the film follows, supplies some tasty soundbites as we watch his career, and those of his constituents, hang by a thread.

7. The Help - Or, what I like to call The Fried Green Tomatoes of the 2010s. This southern-fried, feel-damn-good drama earns bragging rights for featuring the best ensemble of the year. Each actress in Tate Taylor's sharply executed adaptation gets a well-deserved moment to shine. Viola Davis, just when I thought you couldn't top yourself after your scene-stealing moment in Doubt, you blow me away here. And Octavia Spencer? You had me at "Eat my shit."

8. The Descendants - Sure, Clooney does another sterling job, this time as Matt King, a Hawaiian land owner who must come to terms with his comatose wife's infidelity reevaluate his sense of fatherhood, but it's newbie Shailene Woodley (from ABC Family's The Secret Life of an American Teenager? Really?) who supplies the breakthrough performance in Alexander Payne's so-poignant-and-real-it-hurts family drama.

9. Midnight in Paris - If you had told me at the beginning of the year that I would be placing a Woody Allen film on this list, I'd probably stare you down for several minutes, eventually brush you off, and try to remember the last time I enjoyed a movie from the neurotic auteur (that would be Manhattan Murder Mystery). But thankfully I was lucky enough to have stumbled upon this love letter to literature in which an enjoyable Owen Wilson becomes an unassuming time traveler in Paris and mingles with the literary giants of the 20th century. For any writer, bibliophile, or fan of nostalgia it's a decadent fantasy worth revisiting, especially if it only involves few minutes of waiting on a street corner for an antique car to come whisk you away to a local speakeasy.

10. Bridesmaids - The moment Kristen Wiig and Maya Rudolph's characters sit down over coffee for a round of effortless, off-the-cuff girl talk, I knew something special was going on here. Bridesmaids, disguised as a gross-out chick flick (who knew those two words could work together?), is really a sweet statement about friendship and the challenging changes that sometimes threaten it (relocating to another city, losing a BFF to a fiance). And thank you, Judd Apatow, for introducing us to the absolutely charming Irishness of Chris O'Dowd, an unassuming romantic lead who makes for the best romantic lead.

AND 10 VERY HONORABLE MENTIONS
Cedar Rapids, Attack The Block, Hanna, Crazy Stupid Love, Contagion, Limitless, Insidious, Horrible Bosses, Shame, and Warrior.

BEST FILM SHOT IN 2007 ONLY TO BE RELEASED FOUR YEARS LATER
Take Me Home Tonight

DISAPPOINTED, AS EXPECTED
New Year's Eve, Sucker Punch, and Cowboys and Aliens

SURPRISINGLY DIDN'T DISAPPOINT
Fright Night, Source Code, and 50/50

BEST SNEAK PEEKS OF 2012:
The Hunger Games, Rock of Ages, and The Cabin in the Woods.

TV PICKS OF 2011

"Someday your fans are going to work for my fans."
- Alex Dunphy, Modern Family

The kids were defintely not all right in 2011. While MTV birthed an American version of Skins, pretty girls with ugly problems dominated the news (I'm looking at you, Casey Anthony and Amanda Knox), Jersey Shore continued to kill brain cells (this time bringing the bronzer overseas), and the good old Family Television Council had another bone to pick with Glee. The great news is that females were delivering better than ever on the "boob" tube. Wives were Good, Girls were Broke, and Zooey Deschanel used her adorkable powers for good. Oh, and Sarah Michelle Gellar wisely returned to the medium that made her. I could go on and on (I mean, really, I could spend an entire night discussing the improvements of The Real Housewives of New Jersey), but let's get to it: Here are the ten pieces of television that titillated, tantalized, and thoroughly entertained my ass during the past 12 months...

1. Happy Endings (ABC) - Sure, they're a bunch of young urbanites navigating life and love with laughter, but whereas Friends now seems so quaint (and so 90s), this sophisticated group of buds have turned rapid-fire dialogue and gut-busting non-sequiturs into an artform. Huge claps for Casey Wilson, who plays unlucky-in-love Penny with a slight adorkable desperation that doesn’t get too grating, and the hysterical Damon Wayans Jr. whose Brad is an irresistibly dashing cad with a goofball edge.

2. The Killing (AMC) - True, most episodes left me wanting to reach for a raincoat (and that finale may have been a cop-out), but the first-rate ensemble and killer writing brought life to this dreary tale of a murdered Seattle teen and those affected by her gruesome death (Michelle Forbes, I always knew you'd get Emmy recognition). And special kudos goes to Mireille Enos and Joel Kinnaman for their dynamic chemistry as Linden and Holden, the most original and watchable pairing since Mulder and Scully.

3. Cinema Verite (HBO) - One of the year’s most pleasant surprises was seeing The Secret Circle’s Thomas Dekker effortlessly play Lance Loud (his best role to date), the out-and-proud son of America’s first reality-TV family in 1973. Diane Lane, Tim Robbins, and James Gandolfini also shine in this fantastic fictionalized behind-the-scenes account of the groundbreaking PBS documentary series, An American Family.

4. American Horror Story (FX) - Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk's enjoyably twisted take on the haunted house genre was everything I expected from the minds behind polar-opposite Glee. Jessica Lange couldn't have chewed enough scenes this season as Constance, the next-door neighbor with plenty of secrets up her sleeves, and Evan Peters brought it as the tortured Tate, television’s chilliest teen.

5. Homeland (Showtime) - Who knew little, angsty Angela Chase would grow up and return to television in a political potboiler? Clare Danes is pitch-perfect as a conspiracy theorist, and what the dynamic drama does best is balance both sides of the character coin. Who’s good? Who’s bad? The fun is all in the guessing.

6. The Hour (BBC America) - Even the Brits are feeling the Mad Men Effect. This densely plotted, richly written chronicle of the BBC's early days is equal parts 50s spy thriller and journalistic drama. And the alluring trifecta that is Dominic West, Ben Whishaw, and Romola Garai is an engaging piece of casting. No wonder why The Playboy Club flopped and Pan Am is floundering. The Hour has a style and intelligence all its own.

7. Hot in Cleveland (TV Land) - There’s something very 80s about this comfortably traditional sitcom. These three golden boomers (and one Golden Girl) hit their stride during the cable-com's second season, and the undeniable charisma of this cast of comedy veterans is what drives each episode. Get in on the fun – the third season just started.

8. 2 Broke Girls (CBS) – Hipster-hating Max (the sharp-tongued Kat Dennings) and spoiled-rich Caroline (a bubbly Beth Behrs) are the breakout duo of the TV season in this Whitney Cummings concoction (not to be confused with her other, shoulda-been-canceled-by-now sitcom). Girl power has never been this funny.

9. The Oprah Winfrey Show (ABC) - The void Oprah left in daytime television will certainly be felt for some time to come, and we will forever be grateful for the 25 enlightening years the talk show titan gave us. In the weeks leading up to her poignant farewell, watching Winfrey was like experiencing a greatest hits collection. Every show, every guest, was impressive, provocative, and ultimately satisfying. And as for that lecture-filled finale? I'm still soaking up those memorable life lessons.

10. Revenge (ABC) – For all intents and purposes, this suds-filled drama about rich people with problems shouldn’t have made this list (boring billboards, lackluster promos), but after experiencing the first ten episodes, I became a convert. Why does it work? While Desperate Housewives satirized primetime soaps (and suburbia), Revenge refreshingly plays it straight. Icy glares. Delectable dialogue. And enough twists (Tyler’s a hustler?!) to make us shiver with anticipation for the next episode. That said, welcome back Madeline Stowe.

HONORABLE MENTION:

The Royal Wedding (all networks) - As inescapable and overdone as the coverage was for William and Kate's regal tying of the knot, Americans couldn’t help but swoon over the tastefully done fairy-tale production of this historic affair.

MUSIC PICKS OF 2011

"It isn't hell if everybody knows my name."
- Lady Gaga, The Edge of Glory

American Top 40 in 2011 sounded more like an Ibiza soundtrack from 2000. For every house-inspired beat, there was a synth-driven chorus striving to be everyone's anthem, and for every lyric commanding us to dance until the world ended, there was another telling us to throw our hands up in the air and just "have a good time" (thank you, LMFAO). But not all was gloss and glitter. The following gems made impacts that will far outlast any spotlight-hogging, AutoTuned fart machine:

1. 21 by Adele - Exquisite. Cathartic. Soul-baring. Gorgeous. The list of shining adjectives that have been applied to the 12 songs that make this brilliant collection are endless. And for those late to the party, there was that stirring live rendition of "Someone Like You" at the VMAs that scored the girl new fans; the song quickly shot to #1 on the charts, making her only the 15th British artist to top the list in the past 20 years. And it's no surprise that the girl's been adorned with multiple Grammy nods, including - just as I had predicted - Album of the Year. The singer who made her pain our pain succeeded in crossing generations (finally a pop star both teenyboppers and grandparents have in common!) and standing out amidst all the synths and dubsteps that permeated the charts. To quote one Cathy Dennis, is this for real, or is this just another dream? 21's standouts: "Rolling In The Deep," "Rumour Has It," "Set Fire to the Rain," and "Turning Tables". A true future classic.

2. "Helena Beat" by Foster The People - The hipster trio that was on everyone's party playlist surprised the music industry with the popular, un-Top-40-like "Pumped Up Kicks" (seriously, did it have to play at every Hollywood afterparty, boutique opening, Comic-Con event, and barbershop?), but it's their second single that truly delivers the goods, making hopelessness sound so...glorious. And the delightfully twisted Lord-of-the-Flies-meets-Mad-Max video provides plenty of offbeat visuals to accompany such an epically offbeat yet harmonious jam:

*And may I also recommend the equally mesmerizing "Houdini"?

3. "The Edge of Glory" by Lady Gaga - Easily the best single to come off Born This Way, "Glory" outshined the album's title track simply by being unassuming with its message and employing the late and great Clarence Clemons, who delivers an epic sax solo that raises the song to new heights of, well, glory.

4. "Young Blood" by The Naked and Famous - Another epic anthem of 2011 came from this alternative bunch. Taking cues from MGMT's 2008 "Time to Pretend," "Blood" rejoices in its quest "to find the in-between" and revels in its airy synths, creating pop music you can dream to:

5. "No Light, No Light" by Florence and the Machine - Leave it to good ol' Flo to kick it up a notch on her glowing sophomoric effort, especially with this second single from the majestic Ceremonials. What starts out as a timid response to a demanding lover transforms into a groundshaking and liberating declaration. Those thundering drums, that rousing chorus - this is pop music that causes its listeners to have a religious experience. Get down on your knees and worship, dammit.

6. "Princess of China" by Coldplay feat. Rihanna - The collaboration that should have never worked...works. Whether or not you think this was the British superband's jump-the-shark moment in an attempt to guarantee radio airplay and consistent sales, you can't deny the soaring and unexpected awesomeness of this single. To Chris Martin & Co. I say: Kudos for upping the electronic quotient in your repertoire and evolving your sound without completely veering off your musical course.

7. How Do You Do by Mayer Hawthorne - He could be Adele's (or Robin Thicke's) geekier long-lost brother, a white boy with soul who's bringing Motown into the 21st century and garnering support from the likes of Mark Ronson. On "The Walk," the first single from How Do You Do, Hawthorne plays a man scorned and content with saying "So long, you did me wrong" to the lady in his life. "A Long Time" is both a brilliant homage to Steely Dan's "Hey Nineteen" and a storied history of Hawthorne's beloved Detroit, followed by a duet - yes, a duet - with Snoop Dogg on "Can't Stop." Someone get this guy booked on a talk show.

8. "Stay Awake" by Example - The London rapper delivers a hard-hitting and resonating dance single with a message for the world, one that also poses the most intriguing question ever asked in pop music: "Did we chase the rabbit into Wonderland?"

9. "Shield and Sword" by Clare Maguire - If Gaga, Adele, and Florence had a three-way and used Annie Lennox as the surrogate then...well, that should clearly tell you what this Welsh broad is like. Witness it all here.

10. "Moment 4 Life" by Nicki Minaj - Yes, "Super Bass" was great and all (and followed you wherever you went in 2011), but here is where the Gaga of Hip-Hop created something rare: an existential rap single. Oh, and the Drake cameo ain't too bad either.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Beyonce's sass-filled "Schoolin' Life", David Guetta's empowering "Titanium" (featuring Sia), and Jessie J's joyous "Abracadabra" and "Domino."

MUSICAL MVP'S OF THE YEAR:

Whistles - Britney's "I Wanna Go," Foster The People's "Pumped Up Kicks," Maroon 5's "Moves Like Jagger" (feat. Christina Aguilera).

and...

The Saxophone - Katy Perry's "Last Friday Night," Gaga's "The Edge of Glory," Alexandra Stan's "Mr. Saxobeat," Dev's "Dancing in the Dark".

MUSIC VIDEOS OF THE YEAR:

1. Katy Perry's "Last Friday Night (TGIF)" - A crowd-pleasing exercise in 80s nostalgia. And bonus points for the Debbie Gibson and Corey Feldman cameos.

2. Robyn's "Call Your Girlfriend" - A ridiculously simple yet effective piece in which the Swede With The 1991 Bowl Cut lets loose and dances. Her. Ass. Off. In one take!

3. Swedish House Mafia's "Save the World" - A funny, touching, and random ode to the the four-legged superheroes in our lives (by the way, the single is nominated for a Best Dance Recording Grammy, and rightly so):

And that just about does it.

See you next year,

H.P.M.

Lady Gaga Marries The Night (And The Director's Chair)

2011-12-02T08:50:00.001-08:00

"When I look back on my life, it's not like I want to see things as exactly as they happened. It's just that I prefer to remember them in an artistic way..."

And so begins the 8-minute short film that precedes the long-awaited music video (and by long-awaited, I mean one whole month) for Gaga's personal ode to the city that gave birth to her, "Marry The Night." Upon viewing it a second time - and like most fans and pop culture hounds - I tried to scrape away the make-up and somewhat pretentious direction (yes, she's now aiming for a DGA membership, and from the looks of it, she has a hard-on for Kubrick) to see what the hell is really going on here.

..."And truthfully, the lie of it all is much more honest because I invented it..."

However oxymoronic that is, she goes on to tell us, while being transported on a gurney by a pair of fashionable nurses (one with "a great ass"), that memories are killed by trauma, her past is an "unfinished painting," and she "loathes reality." So, what she's offering us in this "Prelude Pathetique" is a glimpse into a little personal history after distracting us with avant-garde costumes, flashy cuts, overacting, and iconic metaphors. Could her music-video self here be a version of her true past self?

For those who'll be too impatient to sit through the next five minutes and will want to just fast-forward to the actual music video, you'll only be missing a messy montage in which she makes love to a box of Cheerios (Honey Nut, from the looks of it), poses as a ballerina who will never fit in, gets naked in a bathtub, cries like the former struggling artist she was (back when she was living in a ramshackled studio apartment in the Village), and flashes her boobs while high on whatever drug of choice was trendy in the mid-2000s.

You see, kids? It's autobiographical.

Next, she finally manages to break free from the chains that kept her hands tied for so long (Goodbye ambiguous figures of suppression!) and go out into the real world to pursue some artistic integrity - and a record deal, of course.

Then we get to the music...and the dancing. But first, before I forget, there's some awkward writhing in the driver seat of a Trans Am and exploding cars that must have been a bitch to manage on set (those production-hired fire marshalls can be sticklers sometimes).

Cut to Gaga in a dance studio, training to be the best she can be, and putting her ego on display by being the only dancer moving in heels (gotta stand out, don't ya Gaga?). The scene is very Fame, and it's pretty tight. And thankfully we finally get to see some Mark Kanemura action here as well.

Also interesting is the all-too-brief dance sequence underneath an El Train (maybe in the Bronx?). Here Gaga is in her element, in her natural habitat, tearing up the streets in her stilettos, and soaking up the energy of good ol' New York City, which is what the song is all about.

Okay, enough reading. Just watch:

Overall, the whole thing, as some haters might argue, is one giant, live-action diorama for her ego. I mean, she has the balls to predict in the prologue what colors will be big next spring (check those surgical caps); it clearly demonstrates that she knows she's earned enough clout to shape the future of fashion (and music). And anyone who strives to direct her own music video must be some kind of control freak, right? Maybe, but you have to give the Italian Catholic schoolgirl some credit. She's non-stop, always creating, always bleeding herself out. Can you blame her? She is, I think, the product of a short attention-spanned society that tends to be quick when it comes to favoring a new flavor every so often, which is ironic considering most of her current videos are 12-minute opuses (but that's a thesis paper for another time). It's okay, girl. Take a breather. We wouldn't want to see you implode.

But in the meantime, go ahead. Marry that night. As long as it's legal in New York State.

Sincerely,

A Little Monster.

Justin Bieber & Mariah Carey Redo A Contemporary Christmas Classic

2011-12-01T12:02:00.000-08:00

Five things about the recent music video debut for Justin Bieber and Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas Is You (SuperFestive!)," the collaboration no one saw coming because, frankly, we were already used to (or prefer) the dozen or so versions of this 1994 yuletide tune from artists like Michael Buble, Lady Antebellum, and that little girl at the end of Love Actually (God, what a good movie).

1. There is indeed something superfestive about a Jenny Craig spokeswoman lip-syncing to a song she originally recorded 17 years ago, back when her current duet partner was a mere fetus.

2. Cheers to the publicity team behind Macy's for coming up with a way to lure more shoppers to its already overcrowded counters and migrane-inducing florescent lighting.

3. As blatant as that Nintendo 3DS product placement is, it isn't as obvious as the soft lighting Ms. Carey is now regularly utilizing whenever a camera is pointed at her.

4a. There's no way in retail hell that a department store stampede would be so calm and controlled.

4b. And something tells me the shots of Mariah and Justin frolicking in the sleigh was the only time the two had met (I sympathize with the line producer who had to balance the schedules of both pop divas to get this accomplished).

5. I'm pretty sure that wasn't the real West 34th Street outside.

That said, enjoy:

Needless to say, I prefer the 1994 version.

Random Thought of the Week #28

2011-11-30T12:40:00.001-08:00

What if there were a Broadway musical based on the discography of Ace of Base? Hey, if it happened to ABBA, it could happen to everyone's favorite Swedes from the 90s.

If I ran things, I'd simply call it The Sign, an epic romance set against the backdrop of the "turbulent yet carefree 1990s" (as quoted from my hypothetical Playbill). Perhaps we could be treated to an emotional rendition of "Don't Turn Around" in which our hero and heroine are on the verge of a teary-eyed break-up. Maybe our heroine doesn't approve of her man's lifestyle as a jewel thief and con artist and breaks out into a rip-roaring version of "Living in Danger," complete with choreography by Mia Michaels or Travis Wall.

Just throwing it out there. And if it does happen, just remember who came up with the idea first.

H.P.M.

DIARY OF THE FUNEMPLOYED: Free Caffeine Fix

2011-11-29T14:28:00.000-08:00

My relationship with coffee didn't begin until I was 21 (call me a late bloomer).

It was a cold autumn morning in 2001. To make a few extra bucks my college roommate and I got up at the buttcrack of dawn to stand in line at the Fleet Center in downtown Boston and wait for the box office to open. The "job" consisted of buying the maximum number of tickets (premium seats, whatever the event) for a local ticket brokerage firm that later sold them "at premium prices" to their "clients." We were to meet a contact who would give us hundreds of dollars in cash for the purchase (they held onto our IDs as collateral so that we wouldn't run off). Although it seemed shady and sneaky, it was a totally legit operation. And it paid in cash. One hundred bucks for two hours of our time.

Anyway, what got me up and ready for the early task was a cup of vanilla roast from Dunkin' Donuts. My roommate, Steve, had introduced me to it. It was warm and smooth and invigorating (the spoonfuls of sugar and heavy cream, I'm sure, had something to do with it as well). Holy Splenda this was good! Was this what I had been missing out on? The closest I came to coffee was an obsession with Starbucks Mocha Frappucinos for a good part of my junior year of high school.

I was hooked. Coffee good.

Cut to a decade later, and I can't seem to get through most mornings without a cup of joe. True, I did invest in a Mr. Coffee just over a year ago so that my budget wouldn't be blown on overpriced lattes at every Peets, Starbucks, and Coffee Bean I seemed to frequent in my neighborhood. However, there's something about those grande-sized cups with the brown cardboard sleeves and green logos. They've become, in a way, status symbols. A nice, steaming venti cup is an indicator of where you stand in society. It tells people, Yeah, I can afford giant caramel macchiato every day - what are you gonna do about it? So what if I'm too lazy to make some at home? And there's no way in hell I'll drink that mulch they make at the office. And don't even get me started on the irresistible holiday cups with their festive red and white designs. Ah, eggnog lattes...

Sorry, where was I?

With the way my budget is going, I'm lucky to afford 2 small fancy cups a week. However, I've managed to find a few cheaper alternatives. First, there are those press junkets I've had the pleasure of attending. As I've mentioned before, the free food ain't too shabby, but what's even greater is the endless supply of coffee, particularly at The Four Seasons in Beverly Hills. Silver spoons, herbal teas, and cream, oh my! I always make sure to grab a to-go cup before I leave so that I'm caffeinated for the remainder of the day.

Then there's my bank. Although they love charging me an annoying checking account fee every month (I really do think they enjoy squeezing every penny out of me in order to contribute to their obscene, annual $5 billion-dollar profit), I thank them for their little coffee station. Instead of making my transactions at the ATM outside I will walk into my branch - even for the slightest of reasons - just to get my hands on one of those complementary Styrofoam cups, sprinkle some non-dairy creamer and pour some hot black stuff to get me going. I wonder if the tellers would notice if I brought in a thermos to fill up for the rest of the day...

The other day I walked into said bank for the sole purpose of a free coffee. I had no paycheck to deposit, nothing to withdraw. In order to keep up the charade, I held in my hand an old pay stub, pretending to prep myself for a transaction. I went up to the counter, grabbed a deposit slip, started to fill out a few numbers, and then feigned frustration as I crumpled up the slip of paper and backtracked - this time stopping at the coffee station. "Oh, might as well grab a cup while I'm here," said my body language. I filled up, flashed a smile at the bank manager, and made my merry way back home.

Desperate? Or just plain creative in my thriftiness?

H.P.M.

THE SANTA SESSIONS: The 2011 Holiday Playlist

2011-11-27T11:39:00.000-08:00

This was inevitable. After all, if Justin Bieber and Zooey Deschanel can pop out Christmas compilations, then why can't I?

I've always believed that a steady, well-balanced diet of contemporary and classic holiday tunes is necessary for any celebration involving tinsel, candy canes, and spiked eggnog. Therefore I've come up with a small sample of what's on my playlist between now and December 25. I mean, there's only so many times I can listen to Bruce Springsteen's "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" on the radio, so I'll be relying on my iPod to deck the halls with boughs of ear candy.

1. "When Christmas Comes" by Mariah Carey & John Legend
2. "Shake Up Christmas" by Natasha Bedingfield
3. "It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas" by Michael Buble
4. "I'll Be Home For Christmas" by Katharine McPhee
5. "White Christmas (Live)" by Lady Gaga

6. "Happy Xmas (War is Over)" by Charice
7. "All I Want For Christmas Is New Year's Day" by Hurts
8. "Winter Wonderland" by Jason Mraz
9. "Do You Hear What I Hear?" by Kristinia DeBarge
10. "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" by Leighton Meester
11. "Last Christmas" by Jimmy Eat World
12. "Grown-Up Christmas List" by Monica:

13. "Wonderful Christmastime" by Kelly Rowland
14. "Child of Winter" by Rachel and the Reindeerz - A shameless plug for my friend Rachel who worked on this merry little Beach Boys cover last year and turned it into a cheery viral hit.
15. "Extraordinary Merry Christmas" by The Glee Cast - An original pop number that will get your head bopping while trimming the tree and hanging up those stockings with care.
16. "Mistletoe & Holly" by Leigh Nash
17. "Merry Christmas Everybody" by Steps - Because nothing screams "cheesy kitschy fun" like this poptastic early 2000s gem from the Britpop superstars.
18. "Carol Of The Bells" by The Bird And The Bee
19. "All Alone on Christmas" by Darlene Love - An oldie from the early 90s (yes, it's also from the Home Alone 2: Lost in New York soundtrack), and it is one helluva rollicking good time.
20. "The Christmas Song (Thunderpuss Remix)" by Christina Aguilera - It wouldn't be Christmas without some diva theatrics set to an over-the-top remix. Perfect for those yuletide rooftop soirees in Chelsea:

21. "Love Is Christmas" by Sara Bareilles
22. "Last Christmas" by Cascada - If one version wasn't enough, then check out this club-friendly rendition from the Queen of Eurodance Trash.
23. "Sleigh Ride" by Debbie Gibson - A flashback to the 80s to help you reminisce about that Hot Wheels playset you found underneath the tree (or is that just me?).
24. "The Christmas Song" by Justin Bieber & Usher - I hesitate to put this on here, but Usher offers some redeeming vocals to turn this holiday classic into a late-night slow jam.
25. "Do They Know It's Christmas?" by The Glee Cast

Happy Holidays,

H.P.M.

Random Thought of the Week #27

2011-11-19T07:32:00.000-08:00

There's something consoling about seeing a Rolls Royce waiting in line at a McDonald's drive-thru.

Rich people: they have cravings just like us.

H.P.M.

Titanic 3D: Bringing 1997 Back

2011-11-16T17:45:00.000-08:00

So, it appears James Cameron is resurrecting his cash cow from 1997 for a 2012 audience. You know, the one about the big boat that sinks (if you consider that a spoiler, then welcome back from Jupiter).

I guess it's the lesser of two evils. I mean, at least it's not a remake...or a sequel. Oh, wait, that already happened.

Go ahead. Roll your eyes. Let's see how many fools will be clamoring for those 3D glasses come April. After all, if you think about it, there's now a entire generation that hasn't experienced this romantic epic on the big screen, and after devouring the 3D spectacle that was Avatar, these kids today just might bite and a buy an overpriced ticket to see "that guy from Inception" and "that MILF from Contagion" get it on the backseat of a 1912 Renault. Take a look at the newfangled trailer:

*Yes, it's true that I saw this film three times in the theater when I was senior in high school. Yes, it's true that I proudly own Celine Dion's Let's Talk About Love on which the ubiquitous "My Heart Will Go On" can be found. And yes, it's true that my prep school friends and I would lip sync to the ballad like crazy in my dad's 1992 Camry while driving through the streets of New Rochelle.

Your judgments have been noted and quickly dismissed.

H.P.M.

FROST FACTOR: The 2011 Winter Playlist

2011-11-15T10:48:00.000-08:00

Winter technically doesn't start until December 21 (Happy 90th, Grandma), but I'm here to prep you ahead of time. This one's for the Thanksgiving dinners, the Black Friday trips to the mall, the commute to work as you sip on a peppermint mocha and mentally put together what you'll be wearing to the office holiday party.

1. "Princess of China" by Coldplay feat. Rihanna - The collaboration that should've never worked...works.
2. "Love On Top" by Beyonce
3. "Holidays" by Miami Horror - I'm a little late to the party celebrating this Australian electro-pop group. And the title of this carefree jam just happens to fit the season.
4. "No Light, No Light" by Florence and the Machine - My favorite track off the majestic Ceremonials is also one of the best singles of 2011. Rise up and rejoice.
5. "The One That Got Away" by Katy Perry - Because the girl (or her record label) would like to smash Michael Jackson's record and make this her sixth consecutive #1 single from Teenage Dream.
6. "Turn Me On" by David Guetta feat. Nicki Minaj
7. "Call It What You Want" by Foster The People:

8. "Room for Happiness" by Kaskade feat. Skylar Grey
9. "Mouth 2 Mouth" by Enrique Iglesias feat. Jennifer Lopez - This duet, 10 years in the making, finally dropped/leaked last month, and while it's pleasantly derivative at best, I can't wait for the remixes:

10. "Lightning" by The Wanted
11. "It Will Rain" by Bruno Mars
12. "Run Dry (X Heart X Fingers)" by Patrick Stump - The former Fall Out Boy frontman impresses with a soulfully funky vibe no one saw coming.
13. "Down For Whatever" by Kelly Rowland feat. The WAV.s:

14. "Nothing" by The Script - Because there's nothing like a little Irish croon to go with your gingerbread latte.
15. "Calling All The Monsters" by China Anne McClain
16. "Up" by James Morrison feat. Jessie J
17. "Dance With Me Tonight" by Olly Murs
18. "Music Sounds Better With You" by Big Time Rush
19. "My Heart Takes Over" by The Saturdays - Not feeling the mid-tempo treacle? Then try the High Level Radio Edit here.
20. "All Night Long" by Demi Lovato feat. Timbaland & Missy Elliot

Japanglish

2011-11-14T11:34:00.000-08:00

At first I thought this PCD-influenced girl group was attempting to cover Republica's "Ready to Go" - you know, with the requisite butchering of prepositional phrases (stereotypical but true). But upon viewing this flashy music video I discovered that it's just your run-of-the-rice-mill single from 4Minute, one of the many pop groups treading water in the ocean that is the saturated J-Pop market.

There are a few English words thrown around ("shining star," "shut up and go away," and of course, the title declaration). And I can't help but think that they're chanting my name at the :51 and 1:53 marks. But that's probably just my ego talking.

Enjoy:

Dancing Around Questions With The Stars

2011-11-12T13:29:00.000-08:00

I recently interviewed a couple of celebs for HIH. It was a chance to sit in a comfy suite at a posh hotel, enjoy a free meal, and sneak a couple of disposable hand towels from the bathroom (Shhh...). You can catch one HERE and the other HERE.

*For you Michael Fassbender fanatics, that one's coming soon. *UPDATE 11/29/11 - Here it is.

H.P.M.

Random Thought of the Week #26

2011-11-10T15:24:00.000-08:00

To the creative culinary mind at Trader Joe's who came up with the idea to sell milk chocolate-covered potato chips, I thank you. And hate you.

Not only have you given me pure, unadulterated joy, you have also cursed me with yet another edible distraction filled with enough calories to corrupt the healthiest of the healthy (seriously, if you have no urge to try one, then you have no soul).

You promise that "every crunchy bite brings a symphony of flavors and textures that please the palate and bring joy to the world. Or at least to your taste buds." Just admit it - it causes severe foodgasms. You also claim that it "fits right in with a balanced lifestyle." Clearly you haven't seen how balanced my kitchen cabinet has been lately.

Munch, munch,

H.P.M.

FLASHBACK: Chante Moore Anyone?

2011-11-09T23:25:00.000-08:00

The year was 2000. And lost in the shuffle was this bumpin' R&B number from a woman who would forever struggle in the shadows of giants like Mariah, Aaliyah, and Lauryn. I'm talking about Chante Moore, the former Mrs. Kadeem Hardison (that's right, A Different World's Dwayne Wayne!), and her single-that-shoulda-soared "Straight Up."

I randomly happened to remember that I had put this jam on one of my European-influenced mix CDs after living in London during the first half of 2001 (such carefree, pre-9/11 times). I had caught this video while watching MTV UK in my flat and was hooked ever since, sadly never seeing it catch on here in the States.

And looking back now, it just screams early 21st century (Tae-Bo choreography! Sports jersey midriffs!). How quaint compared to the glittery dance trash that's currently being forced down the ears of the American public.

You're welcome:

Theme Song of the Month: November 2011

2011-11-03T16:07:00.000-07:00

It's not every day you get to have a religious experience while listening to a song.

Well, today is that day. Florence and the Machine's "No Light, No Light" is one majestic piece of pop, a thundering opus of epic proportions (and the rest of the album ain't too shabby either). Those pounding drums. That rousing chorus. And yes, those are harps you hear being strung at the 1:02 mark.

My brothers and sisters, get down on your knees and worship with me:

DIARY OF THE FUNEMPLOYED: Free Movies!

2011-10-24T00:20:00.000-07:00

The wise prophet Ferris Bueller once said, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."

Clearly Mr. Bueller isn't a 31-year-old unemployed/freelance writer who has Prius payments to make and student loans to neglect every month*. If I may, I'd like to tell him that life indeed moves pretty fast. However, if you've been stopped for a prolonged period of time, twiddling your thumbs, you can still miss it. Having left my employer back in February, my weekly routines of waking up, attempting to hit the gym, watching The View, getting booked on a few writing gigs, and spending hours in almost every Starbucks this side of La Cienega have made these past eight months fly by at a pace I've never experienced.

Nearly seven years ago I had written a "chapter email" to all of my friends and family back home (remember, this was before I ever acquainted myself with a blog) about my first experience as "an employee for the government." At the still-green age of 24, I had been laid off when the home-makeover show I worked on got cancelled by ABC Family after three short seasons (I had been an assistant in the low-budgeted art department). It was nice, at first. And the timing was perfect. I was "laid off" two days before Halloween, which meant that I could go crazy on the 31st of October and sleep in the next morning...which I did (again, I was 24). Little did I know it was the calm before the Quarter-Life Crisis Storm during which I'd find myself questioning my move to Los Angeles, where I was going with my life, and why I had jumped ship a couple of months before landing the art department gig (I had been a lowly staff PA at a highly esteemed production company that had already started placing one foot in its grave).

Granted, my current bout with unemployment was brought on voluntarily. I had seven years worth of experience to prepare me for this round of joblessness. I knew it was going to be challenging. But I had regained hope and a rekindled desire to continue pursuing what I had come to this city for, and being unemployed in 2011 has opened my eyes to a couple of things.

A slight perk I've taken advantage of is the chance to attend bargain matinees of movies I've wanted to see but was too cheap to cough up the additional dollars for weekend or nighttime admissions. What's even better, especially in L.A., is the chance to go to matinees - for free. Being on the mailing list for test screenings, I've been able to watch a number of flicks before they hit multiplexes (And don't forget my pro-bono work for Campus Circle, which has allowed me to sit in on plenty of films and interview a couple of celebs - I wrote about my press junket experience HERE).

You see, many movie studios try to gauge a film's success by coordinating a handful of screenings that also act as focus groups. They do them all the time here. If a theater is constantly filled with laughter during an upcoming R-rated comedy, then execs can take comfort in knowing that they have a hit on their hands. However, if a theater is filled with laughter for the wrong reasons, then the execs (and the film's director) have some work to do (hello reshoots!). Any weak points or strengths are also made clear when audience members are given forms to fill out and express their opinions on things like characters, story development, and pacing.

After attending several test screenings here in the City of Unemployed Angels, I couldn't help but take a mental inventory of the kinds of individuals who frequent these freebies. I guess it's a thing writers do; we observe the crap out of stuff. There are the similarly jobless schmoes who share my ravenous appetite for free shit. There are the college students who have nothing better to do in between classes. There's that one member of the press who's managed to infiltrate the group (anyone remotely connected to "The Biz" is prohibited from joining - oops). And then there's the riffraff, some of them looking as if they came off the street with no clue as to what they're participating in.

A funny story about that whole No-Showbiz-People-Allowed rule:

Back in July I received an invite to attend a preview screening of the contemporary masterpiece Shark Night 3D. In Chatsworth. Chatsworth. The theater was roughly 45 minutes away from my Westwood apartment, but considering I had nothing else better to do (besides hunt for more work), I made the trek deep into the armpit of The Valley. When I showed up a line had already wrapped around the building, but I was confident I would still get in. Armed with a water bottle and my trusty paperback novel, I walked all the way to the end of the line by the dumpsters. There, a man with a clipboard was checking people in. I had memorized my confirmation code and was ready to give it to him.

"Name?" he asked. I gave it. Strange, I had never been checked in like that before.

He consulted a list on his clipboard. "Sorry, I can't let you into the screening. You work in entertainment."

"I'm sorry?" I feigned confusion.

"You're a member of the industry. This screening is for general audiences only. I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the line."

I remained cool and collected on the outside, but on the inside, I panicked like a sleeper agent who had just been exposed right before completing his mission for the Taliban. I continued to act offended by his false accusation (call it reverse psychology), and Mr. Clipboard then explained that my name popped up as a Person of Interest. Apparently this particular marketing firm gathered together a bunch of names to look out for. I was basically blacklisted. There was a warrant out for my removal from screenings. I imagined posters being hung up in offices with the word "WANTED" splashed across my face. I pictured gruff, middle-aged men shouting at their subordinates, "Do not let this guy in! He's a writer! He influences other people's opinions!" I envisioned APBs being broadcast across the city: "Suspect was last seen exiting a screening of Immortals downtown. Proceed with caution. Blogger is considered a high risk."

Still, I was determined to get into the screening at hand and see some bikini-babe-on-shark action. I calmly waited for Mr. Clipboard to bring over his senior colleague to re-explain the rules. I assured them that I was unemployed, having worked as a bookkeeper for an electrician (which was kind of true; I had a one-month stint back in the summer of '06). They responded by saying they couldn't do anything; my name was linked to several entertainment-related entities (Damn you, Google). I admitted working for a production company eight years ago, but that did nothing. I bitched about the time I wasted driving out here from Westwood. They apologized. I continued to stand there. The standoff was reaching its boiling point. Finally Senor Clipboard, in an attempt to compromise, gave me a slip of paper that granted me free admission to any movie of my liking. And I had to use it that night. The only two movies with reasonable showtimes were Captain America and Transformers: Dark of the Moon. Which would be the worst of two evils? Thus my dilemma of the day (I chose the robots).

Ironically enough, one month later found me sitting across from the Shark Night cast in an interview I wrote for Campus Circle. I had to ask questions about what it was like working with animatronics, what it was like to scuba train, and how hard it was to run around in a swimsuit the entire time (sadly, there was no time to discuss the qualifications of the Republican candidates). And I still haven't seen the movie.

My summer run-in with the Test Screening Police hasn't deterred me from accepting more invites to free movies. Last week I attended a preview of Tower Heist, and -- marketing execs, relax -- I rather enjoyed it. That's all I'll say. And the week before that I caught an afternoon sneak peek of Immortals downtown. Like all screenings, in order to guarantee a seat, I had to arrive an hour early and wait in line for a confirmed ticket. Hence a book or magazine would be wise to bring. While standing in line on Olympic Boulevard by the multiplex entrance I couldn't help glancing up from my Kindle every now and then to match the voices with the faces of people whose conversations I had eavesdropped on.

Woman: "I love these things. Last week I saw this movie with Matt Damon. It was good. God, I loved him in Gigli too."
Young Man: "My girl told me about these, and I'm like, I ain't got nothing else better to do."

I tell ya, nothing but the creme de la creme down here in Theater 10 at Regal Cinemas.

If I can't manage my way into any more of these test screenings, I'll always have my press screenings...and the free movies I can rent from the public library. Speaking of which, I finally discovered the West Hollywood branch which recently reopened their doors after undergoing a tremendous renovation (above). Free wi-fi. State-of-the-art equipment. Study rooms. Comfy leather chairs. It is quite the sight to see for any bibliophile.

Off to go RSVP my ass for that new Kate Winslet-Jodie Foster flick,

H.P.M.

*According to current Obamanomics, if this new student loan plan officially kicks in next year, then so. Be. It.

DIARY OF THE FUNEMPLOYED: The Great Sephora Caper

2011-10-23T12:46:00.000-07:00

I am Jennifer Aniston.

Well, I can relate to the character she played in Friends With Money. In the 2006 dramedy, acutely written and directed by Nicole Holofcener, Jen's character, Olivia, is a down-and-out broke girl living in West L.A., surrounded by loved ones who have enough disposable income to fund a small private school for several years. I included the film in a list I compiled three years ago called "10 Great L.A. Movies" (you can catch it here). I also considered it one of the ten best movies I had seen that year.

Olivia hoards small sample jars of designer facial creams and soaps she acquires from various department stores throughout the city because, obviously, she can't afford the full-sized, full-priced bottles. In one particular scene we see her line up dozens of mini-bottles in her bathroom cabinet while she partakes in her nighttime facial ritual. Sometimes she'll even enlist her well-off friends to grab a sample for her; twice the moisturizer for the price of one trip to the mall.

Like Olivia, I have managed to develop my own system involving my local Sephoras and any department store that sells Lab Series For Men's Multi-Action Face Wash. One 3.4-ounce tube of the stuff that "cleanses, exfoliates and conditions the skin" goes for $18. And with the way my bank account seems to get depleted of funds on a monthly basis, there is no way in hell I'll shell out one Hamilton, an Abe Lincoln, and three Washingtons to make my face feel minty fresh every night before I go to bed.

Therefore I will drive myself to the nearest mall and walk into Sephora, ready to be faced with the inevitable "Welcome to Sephora. Can I help you find anything?" To which I'll reply, "Why yes. I was wondering if I could try a sample of that facial soap from Lab Series for Men." Sometimes I'll purposely flub up the name in order to look like a clueless male who's too intimidated to enter an overly bright room filled with lipsticks, powders, eye creams, and enough fragrances to elicit a contact high. Other times I'll just make my way over to the Men's section and pick up a box, pretending to study its contents, and wait for a sales associate to walk over and check in to see if I need any assistance. And occasionally I'll even pull out the My-Friend-Swears-By-This-Stuff-And-Tells-Me-I-Need-To-Try-It card ("Does it really work?"). Once I was approached by a petite Asian girl who showered me with extra samples of shaving cream and SPF lotions after asking her if she could "help a brother out with some exfoliating hookups."

I should also point out that one little sample jar of the Multi-Action Face Wash can last up to seven washes. The tiniest of dollops can foam up like crazy, so four jars could last an entire month. That's four Sephoras I could hit up over the span of one weekend. And it's the perfect size for traveling - no need to worry about those darn FAA carry-on regulations!

Please understand: in no way do I consider this a scam of any sort. I'm not shoplifting chotskies from Pier 1 or T-shirts from Target (although the latter has the potential to become a giant, um, target for similar schemes). I am merely being resourceful during my time of financial need, finding ways to thriftily take care of myself and provide the best hygiene no money can buy.

If that's a crime, then lock me up in a cellblock room. At least I won't have to worry about making rent. Or buying groceries.

H.P.M.

20 Things I've Learned About Living in L.A. (Thus Far)

2011-10-14T12:12:00.000-07:00

I thought I'd save this for next year's anniversary blog celebrating 10 years of living in the City of Angels, but why wait? I'm sure I'll stumble upon other discoveries before next summer rolls around. Here are twenty little nuggets I thought I'd share in the meantime (are there any I'm missing?).

1. Arclight Cinemas = Best. Popcorn. Ever.

2. Friends in other cities may gather together for movie nights and board game nights. Here, they gather together for award nominee screener nights and my-friend's-guest-starring-on-CSI nights.

3. Attractive, scantily-clad joggers should not be allowed to stretch and stand on the sidewalks of busy intersections; it's a driving hazard. And just not right.

4. When in doubt, take Fountain Avenue (or Olympic).

5. When the invite says 8pm, arrive at 9pm. Or, depending on the host, don't show up at all.

6. Some casting directors are jaded, former actors with a penchant for pot-smoking, obsessing over the shenanigans of Bravo reality-TV stars, and dating those who qualify as "10s."

7. Anyone who's ever tried to adamantly defend living in the Valley most likely considers "a wild night out" to include a cocktail at The Americana before 8pm, followed by sushi and karaoke somewhere along Ventura Boulevard and an Evian nightcap on the couch in front the latest Saturday Night Live.

8. 2004: "Don't date the 818." 2011: "Nothing's fine about the 909." (Sorry, K.S.)

9. Valet can be avoided 90% of the time.

10. Yellow curbs are a godsend when looking for a parking space after 6pm.

11. The homeless beggar stationed at the 405 Freeway exit ramp on Santa Monica Boulevard earns more than I do in one day. I have no doubt.

12. Larchmont Village is the new Brentwood.

13. Abbot Kinney is the new Melrose.

14. The Sunset Junction street festival is an excuse for anti-WeHo gays to break out the assless chaps and for Silverlake hipsters to celebrate each other's ironic awesomeness.

15. The Grilled Cheese Truck and Umami Burger are conspiring against me in an attempt to sabotage my waistline.

16. The following is not always true: The longer the wait for a table, the better the brunch experience.

17. Downtown is where East Coast transplants attempt to recapture better days and fool themselves into thinking they live in lower Manhattan.

18. Soap actors love making appearances at The Griddle Cafe on Sunset (whether or not they consume the calories in those ginormous pancakes is irrelevant).

19. The four seasons of Los Angeles are as follows: Awards, Wildfire, Earthquake, and Pilot.

20. Celebrities - they're just like us. Except they get stuff for free (even though they earn 100 times more than us), pay people to polish their reputations, and come with truckloads of insecurities.

H.P.M.

Theme Song of the Month: October 2011

2011-10-12T15:54:00.000-07:00

Color me indecisive.

I'm going back and forth among three singles that have been tickling my fancy recently, hence my delayed choice for this month's anthemic tune.

The first is Lady Antebellum's "We Owned The Night." The country trio finally won me over during their Saturday Night Live performance last week (btw, Melissa McCarthy, I love you), and I can't help but feel like taking an impromptu nocturnal road trip up the coast or lighting a bonfire somewhere up in Malibu whenever I hear this breezy track.

Then there's James Morrison's duet with Jessie J, "Up," a song with a message I can certainly use to help me get through the rest of this "interesting" year.

But it's Mayer Hawthorne's "The Walk" that has completely won me over, and the video for this soulful throwback stars that hot chick from The Event, who could very well be JoJo's older sister.

All three songs are worthy selections for the season, but you know me: I just can't say no to a bespectacled crooner who doesn't take himself too seriously.

H.P.M.

MASQUERADE: 2011 Fall Playlist, Vol. 2

2011-10-09T15:46:00.000-07:00

While you put the finishing touches on that slutty Halloween costume you'll eventually throw together at the last minute you may want to play these 25 tracks to help you get into the mood. Soulful throwbacks, mesmerizing vocals, and high-energy dance is what's on the menu. My second fall compilation of 2011 is now being served.

*And yes, those would be download links to some of the tracks below (get 'em while they're hot).

1. "We Found Love" by Rihanna feat. Calvin Harris
2. "Just In Love" by Joe Jonas
3. "I Like How It Feels" by Enrique Iglesias feat. Pitbull
4. "Shake It Out" by Florence + The Machine
5. "Russian Unicorn" by Bad Lip Reading - Upon the first listen, you may not get the lyrics at all. That's because it's one of those songs you need to see to believe. The geniuses behind BLP have produced a single as an alternative to the Michael Buble video for 2009's "Haven't Met You Yet," and the result is a hysterical exercise in random absurdity:

6. "The Lady is a Tramp" by Tony Bennett & Lady Gaga
7. "Au Revoir" by Cascada
8. "Sexy and I Know It" by LMFAO
9. "All Night Long" by Demi Lovato feat. Missy Elliot - The former Disney princess/tabloid fixture surprises with this bump-and-grinder produced by the trying-to-stay-relevant Timbaland. And the Missy cameo is a welcome appearance.
10. "Earthquake" by Labrinth feat. Tinie Tempah
11. "Good Feeling" by Flo Rida
12. "On Display (Arkatone Radio Mix)" by Melissa Gorga - The remix of this disposable dance fluff from the New Jersey Housewife I've grown to root for ain't too shabby.
13. "Paradise" by Coldplay
14. "The Sound of Missing You" by Wildboyz feat. Ameerah
15. "I Surrender" by Clare Maguire:

16. "Bedroom Eyes" by Dum Dum Girls
17. "Playmate to Jesus" by Aqua - Who'da thunk I'd still be jamming to the guys who gave us "Barbie Girl" 14 years ago? This mid-tempo pop number hails from the halfway decent Megalomania which was recently released overseas.
18. "Beautiful People" by Benny Benassi feat. Chris Brown
19. "The Muppet Show Theme Song" by OK Go - To prepare you for the upcoming Muppets reboot.
20. "Take Over Control" by Afrojack feat. Eva Simons - Despite its release last winter, Top 40 seems to have finally caught on to the Eurotrashiness of this track.
21. "25/8" by Mary J. Blige
22. "Crazy" by Electrolightz
23. "The Walk" by Mayer Hawthorne - A soulful jam from a funkier, nerdier version of Robin Thicke:

24. "Without You" by David Guetta feat. Usher
25. "What Doesn't Kill You (Stronger)" by Kelly Clarkson

You Are Now Leaving Wisteria Lane

2011-09-26T14:52:00.000-07:00

A seemingly happy wife and mother named Mary Alice puts a gun to her head and pulls the trigger...and an idyllic neighborhood is never the same...

Not since Knots Landing have television viewers been so enraptured by the weekly dramas of a bunch of cul-de-sac-dwelling suburbanites. For the past seven years, Wisteria Lane on ABC's Desperate Housewives became a ground zero for soapy fun. It quickly became a place where secrets - along with several criminals - are harbored, where wealthy former models sleep with their gardeners, where neglected wives go off their rockers and shoot up a supermarket, where accident-prone single moms get kidnapped by vengeful ex-cons, where on-the-lam families hide out from eco-terrorists, where shady politicians get skewered by picket fences during tornados, where airplanes crash into holiday parties, where serial killers hold pregnant women hostage, where bitchy real estate agents get electrocuted by telephone poles, where...

You get the idea.

Debuting on October 3, 2004, Desperate Housewives, in a way, filled a void left by four sexy women who used to chat and gossip over lunch and see each other through some juicy trials and tribulations. If Sex and the City celebrated the comedic dramas of female, urban singles, then DH went further and celebrated the comedic dramas of female, suburban marrieds (and divorcees). Instead of sitting around a table and supporting each other while sipping cosmos at a trendy Manhattan hotspot, Susan Mayer, Lynette Scavo, Gabrielle Solis, and Bree Van de Kamp sat around a kitchen counter supporting each other over cups of coffee. However, while brushing up on the history of femme-centric television, one might discover that gathering around a table to dish about love, lies, and life in general was originally an art perfected by four Miami seniors named Dorothy, Blanche, Rose, and Sophia. The Golden Girls essentially invented the TV Girl-Talk Forum the moment they broke out the cheesecake and sat down to vent their problems. So it may come as no surprise that Marc Cherry, Desperate's creator, had been a writer on the classic sitcom during its last two seasons. The Golden influence on Housewives is evident.

DH also filled another void in prime-time television. It brought back the Nighttime Soap to small screens and tweaked the genre in way that made it more easily digestible for the savvy audiences of the 2000s. It introduced three-dimensional characters we grew to love, placed them in sudsy situations in a believable way, and recognized the absurdity of some of them through delicious one-liners and tongue-in-cheek dialogue that remained consistent throughout the years.

While many complain that the show never regained its mojo after that stellar first season - especially after sitting through the much-maligned second season (Alfre Woodard's got her son locked up in the basement!) - I pity those who were quick to give up and tune out. Having learned their lesson, producers delivered a third and fourth season that reminded loyal followers why they kept coming back to The Lane (new gay neighbors, back-from-the-dead spouses, and Dana Delany, oh my!). Then came the high-profiled stunt for the show's fifth season, that five-year jump into the future. Partners swapped, children grew up, and a new villain moved in (Neal McDonough's bent-on-revenge Dave). As for Season 6, fans were given a double dose of mystery when the Bolen family arrived in town (see Torchwood's John Barrowman get blown up in a Prius!) and the Fairview Strangler terrorized the neighborhood (Poor Eddie!). And the writers must have been getting a little nostalgic when they brought back first-season Man of Mystery Paul Young for the seventh and penultimate season (More revenge! This time with a switched-at-birth twist!).

Clearly the show is a liberal dressed in a conservative's clothing. The fictional and picturesque town of Fairview is located in the conveniently ambiguous "Eagle State" (Anywhere, U.S.A.). It's neither red nor blue but a bold shade of purple, maintaining its appeal to moms in Missouri as well as party boys in West Hollywood. This couldn't be exemplified any more than in Marcia Cross's Bree Van de Kamp, who was modeled after Marc Cherry's very own mother. Bree may be an uptight, church-going, gun-toting Republican with a penchant for pie-making, but she's got a gay son and a less-than-perfect daughter she loves with all her heart.

And now that the groundbreaking dramedy's eighth and final season has kicked off, I'm sure a retrospective of sorts is being planned for what will most likely be a drawn-out farewell. I look forward to seeing how this season's mystery, in which all the ladies have implicated themselves in the murder of Gaby's evil stepfather, will be resolved (In a nifty twist that brings everything full circle, they all find themselves in the same situation Mary Alice was in so many seasons ago). Like many suburban satires before it (American Beauty, The Ice Storm), the Housewives have made their case: Small-town life can be just as scandalous (and dangerous) as any crime-ridden metropolis. Rapists, drug dealers, and murderers aren't downtown - they're residing in that nice 3-bedroom behind your hedges.

Thanks for the memories, ladies.

See you at the wrap party in 2012.

H.P.M.

Celeb Sighting of the Week

2011-09-18T00:54:00.000-07:00

Despite my star-studded Thursday night at the pre-Emmy nominee party for writers at the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences (hello Matt LeBlanc, Julie Bowen, Elisabeth Moss, and cast of Downton Abbey), last week's brush with fame would have sent my mother's heart racing, so I declare Richard Chamberlain as my Celeb Sighting of the Week.

The star of such TV classics as The Thorn Birds and Shogun had passed me on the sidewalk, heading to the Starbucks in West Hollywood (the one across the street from 24 Hour Fitness) as I was walking back to my car after a cardio session at said gym.

For those of you who still have no clue who I'm talking about, he played Uncle Saul's old flame on Brothers & Sisters last season and assumed the role of Allan Quartermaine in that remake of King Solomon's Mines with Sharon Stone in the 80s.

Still don't know? Whatever. My mom will get a kick out of it.

20 Years Ago: "Baby Baby"

2011-09-12T12:01:00.000-07:00

The song that changed my 11-year-old life back in 1991 was the first #1 hit for Christian pop star Amy Grant. Who knew she'd have four more Top 40 singles ("Every Heartbeat," "That's What Love Is For," "Good For Me," "I Will Remember You") break out from the Grammy-nominated Heart in Motion? I didn't, but for the next two years, I became a fanatic. Actually, you can read all about it...HERE.

Happy Anniversary, Amy. You were my early 90s.

That Day in September

2011-09-09T09:13:00.000-07:00

There are countless stories that begin like mine, particularly those coming from the East Coast. And they usually all start out the same way: It was such a beautiful day...

I was asleep on that Tuesday morning. It may have been well past 9 because my first class of the day wasn't until after noon. Like many a senior at Boston University, I had stayed up late the night before during which I had attended a free screening of Mark Wahlberg's Rock Star down at the new multiplex by Boston Common. I could've sworn I heard the phone ring in my half-awake state. Moments later, a knock at my door startled me. It was my roommate, Steve.

"It's for you," he said from behind the closed door. I got up, took the cordless receiver, and watched him trudge back across the cramped living room to his side of our small Buswell Street apartment.

"Hello?"

It was my mother. I wasn't surprised since Tuesday is one of her days off from work, but it was relatively early, and she didn't sound so good: "Turn on the news." She could probably tell from my voice that I had just woken up and didn't know what was going on. "It's awful," she moaned.

I flicked on the 14-inch Toshiba in my room and tuned in to The Today Show. Instead of seeing Katie Couric and Matt Lauer's smiling faces I was presented with the skyline of downtown Manhattan. One of the Twin Towers was on fire. No, make that both of them. While I became transfixed on the tube, my mom continued to go on in my ear about a plane crash and "that they think it was an attack."

After a few moments we said our goodbyes, promising we'd stay in touch throughout the day (luckily, none of our family or close friends were in harm's way). I went back to Steve and filled him in on what was developing in the world around us. I popped in a VHS cassette tape and started recording the news. Something told me that history was being made and that this day was to become one the world would never forget.

Then, while Matt Lauer was talking to an emergency official - while cameras were fixed on the burning towers - it happened. The collapse of the first building. I let out several Oh-my-Gods. The billowing clouds of smoke enveloped downtown Manhattan, and my Hollywood-trained mind couldn't help but think of the pivotal scene in Independence Day in which a wall of fire swept through the streets. It was like my brain was on a delay. Was this really happening? But weren't there people in those buildings and on the ground? How is this happening?

The shocks continued to deliver their one-two punches. The Penatgon. The crash in Pennsylvania. And all those other planes in the sky. The world as I knew it - the cozy, privileged American life I was given - was threatening to end. This is how it happens, I thought. Not with a bang, but with several of them.

The gorgeous day started out numb. There were the IMs exchanged with friends at NYU (cell phones were useless). There was the hazy walk to That Bullshit Class I Needed To Fulfill a Credit. There were the empty seats of students who had chosen to stay glued to their television sets in the dorms. There were the random students I didn't know crying in the middle of the sidewalks on Commonwealth Avenue. There were those F-16 fighter planes zipping across the sky above campus. There were the mobs of people staring at the TV monitors at the student union. There was the candlelight vigil later that night in front of Marsh Chapel. There was that body count, updated hourly everywhere you turned.

For the first time in my 21 years on this earth I, a relatively peaceful-minded, Catholic-educated only-child from a loving family with no history of war veterans, started to feel what Americans must have felt back in December of 1941 when Japanese bombers surprised U.S. fleets in that quiet section of Hawaii: anger. I now knew what it felt like to witness the opening salvo to a war. My red-blooded American self wanted revenge, wanted to retaliate, wanted justice. The urge to hunt down the mastermind behind this massacre and fight back was sudden. Why was I so quickly consumed by the desire to kick enemy ass? Was it the years of being fed a steady diet of action flicks in which evil-looking men with evil-sounding accents were blown to smithereens by the muscleheaded likes of Schwarzenegger, Stallone, and Willis? Or was it just a basic, primal need to right one giant wrong?

Without any hesitation, I felt the need to do something to aid my fellow Americans. I couldn't donate money; I was living off savings from my summer job and three student loans. So I decided to donate blood. After waiting over thirty minutes in line to sign up at the Red Cross station that had been set up at the student union, I discovered that my donation couldn't be accepted due to the fact that I had lived in the UK earlier that year when the Mad Cow outbreak crippled the British meat industry. Anyone who had spent a prolonged amount of time in that infected zone was unable to donate blood until further notice. I felt helpless, useless.

Throughout the next two months, I collected magazines and newspaper articles, kept an ear open for updates on this newly coined War on Terror, and listened to all the stories that started to emerge from the physical and emotional rubble, one of which involved BU alum and recent graduate Lisa Frost, who had been on one of those fateful flights that was supposed to carry her to a new life in California (I was to take a similar trip after my own graduation nine months later). Nothing else mattered. My mix CD became one dark ode to despair. Linkin Park's "In The End" became my theme song. That day in September, in a way, defined my senior year of college. I was a member of the First Post-9/11 Class, one of many young hopefuls sent out into a world that was different from the world we knew when we first went in.

When I traveled back to New York for the Thanksgiving break that year, I ventured downtown to visit a friend who had lived near South Street Seaport, just blocks away from Ground Zero. When I walked up into the cold air from the subway station near Water Street I turned around and saw the vast emptiness in the sky, the black void where those two towers once stood. I stopped to take a moment, reflect, and soak in the magnitude of what had happened in this very spot. I also couldn't help but remember the last time I had been down here, the last time I stood on this ground and looked up at those majestic behemoths of concrete and steel. An old movie ticket stub reminded me; I had caught a matinee of The Others at the multiplex across the street from the World Trade Center on August 12. One month earlier.

Now, ten years later, the details of that day remain just as vivid. The details of that day will also stay with me as a reminder to take nothing for granted and to appreciate all the blessings, trivial and otherwise, I have.

Remembering and honoring,

H.P.M.

Random Thought of the Week #25

2011-09-08T09:33:00.000-07:00

1. I feel like I've been stabbed in the soul whenever I stumble upon a Facebook profile that boasts a person's date of birth from the year 1991.

2. If we're Facebook friends, and you sit down next to me at a coffeeshop without recognizing me, then I guess I should follow Greyson Chance's advice and unfriend you.

LAYERS: 2011 Fall Playlist, Vol. 1

2011-09-06T13:33:00.000-07:00

You conquered those Back-to-School sales, survived that Labor Day barbeque, dug out your favorite cardigan, and now it's time to brainstorm Halloween costumes. In other words, where the f**k did summer go?

While you chew on that, I have found 25 tracks to keep you warm and toasty when the autumn chill sets in and you save up for a couple of grande caramel apple ciders at Starbucks. Listen carefully...

1. "You & I" by Lady Gaga
2. "Shield and Sword" by Clare Maguire - The video for this stunner of a single makes the British songstress out to be the love child of Adele and Gaga. And while there's some truth to that, the rest of her album, Light After Dark, is begging to be heard:

3. "Night of Your Life" by David Guetta feat. Jennifer Hudson
4. "Disaster" by JoJo - Because it wouldn't be fall without a pop piece from this sassy little tartlet. Previously seen as one my Theme Songs for the month of September.
5. "Radioactive" by Marina and the Diamonds:

6. "Titanium" by David Guetta feat. Sia - Easily the best track off of Frenchie's dance disc, this power jam was also another September Theme Song. Catch it here.
7. "Love Slayer" by Joe Jonas
8. "Out Of My Head" by Lupe Fiasco feat. Trey Songz
9. "Someone Like You" by Adele
10. "#1 Nite" by Cobra Starship
11. "Domino" by Jessie J:

12. "Mr. Know It All" by Kelly Clarkson
13. "Change Is Gonna Come" by Olly Murs
14. "Lift Me Up" by Christina Aguilera
15. "Vision in Blue" by Ace of Base
16. "Prayin'" by Plan B
17. "Feel So Close" by Calvin Harris:

18. "Djay" by Mona Lisa
19. "All Fired Up" by The Saturdays
20. "Major Minus" by Coldplay
21. "Called Out In The Dark" by Snow Patrol
22. "Invisible" by Skylar Grey
23. "Gold Forever" by The Wanted
24. "Pass At Me" by Timbaland feat. Pitbull
25. "Love Gun" by Michelle Williams

Enjoy.

H.P.M.

Psychotics of the 90s

2011-09-06T12:58:00.000-07:00

For the first half of the 1990s, not only did I have my nose stuck in the pages of paperback horror novels, I spent a good amount of time being infatuated with a particular genre of film. The Psychological Thriller was alive and kicking back then, and it seemed like anyone could turn into an obsessive loon. Perhaps Glenn Close reignited the trend when she boiled a rabbit and chased Michael Douglas around with a knife in 1987. Since then, Hollywood went to work, turning ordinary folk into menacing monsters that wreaked havoc on pretty unsuspecting white people. Psycho mailmen. Deranged lawyers. Murderous doctors. No profession was safe, and no one could be trusted.

For me, it all started with 1991's Deceived, the film that sparked my interest in the genre. Funny girl Goldie Hawn turned in a rare dramatic performance as a woman caught in a web of danger and betrayal when her husband (teddy bear John Heard) is killed in a mysterious car accident. The words "Goldie Hawn" and "psychological thriller," to this day, still leaves a funny taste in my mouth, and if I were to Netflix this movie today, something tells me it still wouldn't hold up.

However, some of these other thrillers just might...

The Hand That Rocks the Cradle (1992) - Psycho Nanny

I caught a matinee of this R-rated film (the second I ever saw in a theater) in the Bronx with my father when I was 11, and the audience couldn't have made it a more memorable experience. When Ernie Hudson's character popped up in the end to rescue little Emma from delusional bitch Peyton (an icy-perfect Rebecca De Mornay), a man sitting in our row jumped up and screamed, "My man Solomon!" And when the nefarious nanny gets her due (SPOILER ALERT) and is pushed out the attic window, falling onto the family's newly built white picket fence, the theater erupted in cheers. The crowd was so into the action, you would've thought I was watching a ballgame over at Shea Stadium. Best scene: Peyton goes up a 5-year-old bully in a playground, twists his arm, and snarls, "Leave Emma alone. If you don't, I'm gonna rip your fucking head off."

Single White Female (1992) - Psycho Roommate

The film that turned stilettos into deadly weapons was a slice of GenX girlfriendship gone horribly wrong. Allie (Bridget Fonda) has a gorgeous NYC apartment all to herself after finding out her fiance (Wingsman Steven Weber) cheated on her. So, she does what any other white-girl-alone-in-the-big-city would do (besides becoming BFFs with her gay next-door neighbor) - she puts an ad out for a new roomie. Enter Hedy (Jennifer Jason Leigh), the slightly quirky brunette who gradually takes over Allie's life one calculated move at a time because - creepy alert - she wants Allie to be the twin sister she lost in a drowning accident. Forget last year's insipid Rachel Bilson carbon-copy, The Roommate, and get on board this crazy train:

The Good Son (1993) - Psycho Playmate

Coming off the fluffy fun of two Home Alones and My Girl, Macauley Culkin's handlers must have been itching for something a little different for their precocious client. And thankfully this spin on The Bad Seed was the perfect project for him to go against type. I mean, who wouldn't want to see little Kevin McAllister cause a 10-car pile-up, attempt to drown his baby sister, and utter the line, "Don't fuck with me," to a wide-eyed Elijah Wood? Back in the seventh grade, I couldn't wait to grab some popcorn and get a taste of this wintertime kid-thriller.

The Crush (1993) - Psycho Teenager

A 90s version of Lolita with Westley from The Princess Bride and the cute chick from that Aerosmith video? Sold.

Unlawful Entry (1992) - Psycho Cop

Yuppies Michael and Karen (Kurt Russell and Madeleine Stowe) find an intruder in their posh L.A. home and enlist the help of friendly cop Pete (Ray Liotta) who installs a new security system for them and develops a fatal attraction towards Karen (sample dialogue: "I got a cop who wants my wife!"). Needless to say, the shit hits the fan: assault, murder and (woo hoo!) a cocaine framing. *Comparable Contemporary: 2008's Lakeview Terrace.

The Temp (1993) - Psycho Secretary

Before Lara Flynn Boyle played a bitch of a lawyer on The Practice she played a bitch of an assistant in this camptacular thriller (just note the casting of Faye Dunaway) about a homicidal chick who would do anything to climb up the corporate ladder - and does.

Pacific Heights (1990) - Psycho Tenant

No, it's not the name of some short-lived Aaron Spelling soap. It's the title of the flick in which a razorblade-loving Michael Keaton terrorizes Melanie Griffith and Matthew Modine in their swanky piece of San Francisco real estate.

Color of Night (1994) - Psycho Patient

Bruce Willis is a color-blind psychiatrist whose patients are mysteriously being knocked off one by one. Is it the troubled hot chick he's banging, who has ties to the members of his therapy group? Or is it someone else in the off-kilter group, which includes a kook with OCD, a suicidal ex-cop, a pyro, a nympho (Miss Scarlet herself, Lesley Anne Warren), and a transgender teenager? Check out the over-the-top trailer here.

H.P.M.

Theme Songs of the Month: September 2011

2011-09-01T10:23:00.000-07:00

It's been seven years since this pop tartlet came on the scene with the precocious "Leave (Get Out)".

Now, at the wise and ancient age of 20, JoJo is sticking to the same catchy formulas, albeit with a more mature tone, and delivering the quite-fantastic "Disaster," which isn't one (thank God).

A definite addition to my upcoming soundtrack to September:

And tying for this month's honorary title is Sia's noteworthy vocals on David Guetta's empowering "Titanium" (sure, the Mary J. Blige version is cool too, but let's stick with this original):

Shoulda Woulda Coulda: Singles That Never Were

2011-08-30T17:21:00.000-07:00

They are the songs that should've been - and never were - released as official singles for the masses to enjoy and for radio DJs to put on their Top 40 rotation. One can't help but wonder, What the hell were the record labels thinking?

Being one to never shy away from creating a playlist or two, I've compiled 20 tracks from the past ten years that never gained the popularity they deserve.

1. "Cinderella" by Britney Spears (2001) - A distant cousin of "Stronger," this powerhouse pop explosion from the album Britney is an anthemic banger in which Brit gets all Shakespearean on us with the lyric, "I won't return to thee." (See also: the BT-produced "Before The Goodbye," an unreleased, before-its-time electro-dance number that gives "Till The World Ends" a run for its apocalyptic money)

2. "Get Mine, Get Yours" by Christina Aguilera (2002) - After living in L.A. for several months I purchased the epic Stripped and was mesmerized - and unabashedly inspired - by this seductive slow jam, in which Christina commands you to work her "like a 9 to 5," while blaring it in my Ford Focus and driving down Santa Monica Boulevard on a Saturday night full of possibilities:

3. "Erase Her" by LFO (2003) - The one-hit-wonders who love girls that wear Abercrombie & Fitch churned out a second album that didn't really suck, including this Depeche Mode-lite tune that could've been the inspiration for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

4. "Blow Your Mind" by Nick Carter (2002) - Taking a page from Justin Timberlake's break from 'NSYNC, Nick Carter detached himself from his own boy band roots and came up with this craptacular pop-rock CD that featured a piss-poor excuse of a lead single. The Powers That Be had it all wrong; they should've chosen this head-banging throwback to 80s hair metal.

5. "One Sided Love" by Mandy Moore (2001) - The Middle Eastern flair found in the absolutely fabulous "In My Pocket" also seeps into this unknown track, along with some nifty percussion. "Hit me with your best shot," Mandy shouts. A hard order to follow after she's already given us hers:

6. "Inflate My Ego" by Daniel Bedingfield (2002) - Sampling Henry Mancini's "Peter Gunn Theme," Mr. Bedingfield's deliriously cocky delivery is reminiscent of the tongue-in-cheeky Robbie Williams on this brassy anthem.

7. "Suddenly" by O-Town (2002) - "The radio's playing loud, but it's not our song." Reality TV's first boy band could very well be singing about the fate of this track which was sadly lost in the shuffle during a time when teen pop had both feet firmly planted in its grave.

8. "I Could Be The One" by Stacie Orrico (2004) - Another latecomer to the teen pop boom, the talented Ms. Orrico unfortunately crashed and burned with her debut album, burying this catchy dance track under the rubble.

9. "All Day Long I Dream About Sex" by JC Chasez (2004) - From the highly underrated Schizophrenic, 'NSYNC's vocal second-in-command gets down and dirty on this supersonically funky foot-stomper. And stick around for that two-minute-long bridge in which we're transported into an electronic fantasia that's screaming for some Sonya Tayeh choreography (*NOTE: Although a music video was produced for this, the song never took off as a single).

10. "Dancing Alone" by Ashlee Simpson (2005) - Pre-nose job, Ashlee jumped on the dance-rock trend that was all the rage in the mid-00s. It's the only redeeming song on her sophomore album that's also the only song of hers I can tolerate.

11. "Did You Get My Message?" by Jason Mraz (2005) - With some vocal help by the jazzy-sexy Rachael Yamagata, Mr. A-Z croons his way through this plea for help on mixed signals.

12. "Finally" by Fergie (2006) - Written and composed by the can-do-no-wrong John Legend, this beautiful and touching piano ballad showcases White Girl's capable vocals.

13. "Livin' a Lie" by The Dream feat. Rihanna (2007) - Forbidden love never sounded so good (and hard-hitting) until this duet came along:

14. "Girl Next Door" by Darin (2008) - It's as if someone stole Gaga's "Just Dance," removed the vocals, and replaced it with this winner from Sweden's Pop Idol. Plagiarism allegations aside, this RedOne-driven spectacle simply makes me wanna break out into a dance in the middle of my high school cafeteria. Listen here.

15. "Monster" by Lady Gaga (2009) - Out of the eight exquisite pop gems borne from The Fame Monster this song, an ode to one wicked womanizer, had so much music-video potential, it's a shame Mother Monster never had the chance to bring it to life.

16. "The Remedy" by Blake Lewis (2009) - Why this American Idol runner-up never blew up will remain one of pop's biggest mysteries. And why this irresistible dance number was never released as a single that could've nabbed him much-needed fans and support remains an even bigger one:

17. "Why You Had To Leave" by Cascada (2009) - Take some heartbreak, pulverize it with a deep bass, scatter it in the wind, and then proceed to dance your ass off. That's what Cascada would want you to do when you listen to this jam that never was:

18. "Lift Me Up" by Christina Aguilera (2010) - From the much-maligned Bionic, the only time this track saw the light day was during a telethon benefiting the Haitian earthquake victims when Christina gave a stripped-down performance that stunned viewers.

19. "All Is Fair (Crazy Love)" by Anoop Desai (2010) - I had slotted this slow-jam on last year's summer mix, six months before it was actually released as a single (earlier this year - who knew?). This song should have put the Idol reject on the map with its Ne-Yo-esque feel, but sadly, sparks were minimal. Why, oh why?

20. "Rumour Has It" by Adele (2011) - Although it may too early to tell whether or not this retro, empowering hand-clapper will be released as the VMA showstopper's third American single off the majestically soulful 21, here's hoping that it will be before we all perish at the end of 2012.

A Duet I'd Like To See Happen

2011-08-29T11:37:00.000-07:00

After seeing what these two delivered to the VMAs last night -- proving that pop artists with voices still exist -- I would love to see a collaboration between them sometime in the near future.

Both Adele and Bruno Mars do the Lovers Scorned thing so well, I can't help but imagine a single in which we'd hear two sides to a story about a relationship in ruins and its devastating effects. A he-said-she-said love song, if you will.

Record labels and managers, are you listening?

H.P.M.

Random Thought of the Week #24

2011-08-22T18:17:00.000-07:00

I am now convinced that, like deaths, break-ups come in threes.

And possibly during odd-numbered years: Back in 2009, three of my closest friends went through emotional relationship turmoil (I even wrote about it here). And now, as of this month, three other friends of mine are taking a trip to Splitsville. Damn.

"The only constant is change."

H.P.M.

The Curious Case of the Sitcom Star Replacement

2011-08-15T12:01:00.000-07:00

While the American television audience gets ready to see Ashton Kutcher make his debut on the (ahem) retooled Two and a Half Men, inquiring minds want to know how it will all go down. The burning questions on the minds of millions of fans are heating up: How will the former That 70s Show star, who's playing an immature Internet billionaire, be written into the show's premise? What's happening to Charlie Sheen's character? Is he really being killed off in a fiery accident, a plot development most likely the creation of a writer scorned? (See: The Hogan Family below)

I, for one, was never a regular viewer of Men. In the eight years it's been on the air, I probably caught a total of 20 minutes of the show, most of that time against my will as I had most likely been sitting on my grandmother's couch during any given holiday visit to New York. However, the brouhaha surrounding this recent casting headline has made me think about similar switch-ups on sitcoms past. Much like the Let's-Have-A-Baby ploy that's used whenever sitcom kids grow older and less cute (See: The Brady Bunch, Growing Pains, and Family Ties), the Sitcom Star Replacement tactic isn't anything new. For decades, television producers and writers have been coming up with ways to switch out prominent characters with new faces...sometimes playing the same character (I'm looking at you, Bewitched and Roseanne). This television staple has been used with the hope of keeping an audience's interest and the ratings stable enough to carry the series into lucrative syndication. Networks execs may call it "revamping," but boob tube fanboys like myself call it "jumping the shark" or just plain desperation.

Here are a few of those recorded-in-front-a-live-studio-audience laughers that attempted to replenish their creative juices when they were faced with some untimely departures...

The Facts of Life (1979-1988)

By the eighth season of this Saturday night sitcom, Cloris Leachman took over for Charlotte Rae whose role as Mrs. Garrett had been reduced throughout the past two seasons. Why? Seeing as this all took place during that pre-TMZ, pre-Twitter era known as the glorious 1980s, fans can only guess and believe whatever Wikipedia now tells them.

*PS - The episode below, "Seven Little Indians," happens to be my favorite episode of the series. It's the one where Natalie gets strangled to death by a pair of fuzzy dice. To my hardcore Facts of Lifers out there, you know which one I'm talking about:

The Hogan Family (formerly titled Valerie) (1986-1991)

TV history books tell us that sitcom legend Valerie Harper demanded an impossible salary hike after the second season of her titular show, and when producers refused, she walked out. Enter Sandy Duncan, who arrived just in time for the 1988-89 season to play cheery Aunt Sandy, consoling the men of the family after Mama Val was killed in a fire (oh those writers!). After going through an awkward title change to Valerie's Family: The Hogans, network execs detected that no one really missed poor old Val and settled on the abbreviated The Hogan Family halfway through the third season:

Step by Step (1991-1998)

Cast regular Sasha Mitchell, who played doofus cousin Cody, got into some legal trouble back in the mid-90s for allegedly beating the crap out of his wife. And the fact that the well-built dude had a black belt in Tae Kwon Do (and starred in those low-rent Kickboxer films) probably didn't help his case. Enter Bronson Pinchot, the former Perfect Strangers star who returned to this TGIF roots on ABC as Jean-Luc Rieupeyroux, a male beautician who becomes business partners with Carol (Suzanne Somers) in the show's sixth season:

Spin City (1996-2002)

Looking back now, the irony is loud and clear: 11 years ago Charlie Sheen stepped in to replace Michael J. Fox, who had to leave in order to deal with his Parkinson's disease. Sheen arrived at the top of the fifth and penultimate season when production moved its operations from manic Manhattan to schizophrenic L.A. He joined Heather Locklear, who had arrived during the season prior (conveniently after bidding adieu to Melrose Place), and the chemistry was apparently so great...it only lasted those two final years.

Wishing you and your loved ones a merry fall TV season,

H.P.M.

Forgotten Vampires of the 80s

2011-08-09T23:25:00.000-07:00

Before there was ever a Team Edward, before Sookie fell for Bill and Eric - hell, before Buffy picked up her first wooden stake - there was a vampire craze that sunk its teeth into popular culture during the 1980s*. There was the good (1987's sexy-awesome The Lost Boys), the bad (Grace Jones's Vamp) and the artsy (David Bowie, Catherine Deneuve, and Susan Sarandon in The Hunger).

And since that Fright Night remake is upon us (don't let me down, Colin Farrell), I'm going to rev up the Nostalgia Machine once again and revisit some lesser-known titles I grew up with and still cherish to this day. In fact, their VHS copies are collecting dust on a shelf somewhere. It's about time they come out of storage...

Once Bitten (1985)

A fresh-faced, pre-In Living Color Jim Carrey plays Mark, a high schooler who just wants to lose his virginity to his smokin' hot girlfriend. His two horndog friends decide to take him to The Big City (in this case, Los Angeles) where they can have a memorable encounter with some ladies of the evening. But as luck would have it, Mark becomes the target of a 390-year-old temptress (the cougarific Lauren Hutton), who must take three bites from a virgin before All Hallows Eve in order to keep her youthful beauty. Needless to say, hijinks ensue, horrific 80s fashion is put on display, and Cleavon Little pops up as what may be Hollywood's first out bloodsucker. Oh, and look for a blink-and-you'll-miss-her scene with Will & Grace's Megan Mullally (that's right) and a choreographed Halloween dance-off that is simply - ridiculously - awesome. In short, totally radical:

My Best Friend Is A Vampire (1987)

This movie is all kinds of cheesy awesome. Before he played a doctor on TV (House) Robert Sean Leonard played Jeremy, crushing on a girl (the androgynously nerdy-sexy Cheryl Pollack, the chick who would go on to play the sax on The Heights four years later) while balancing an afterschool job delivering groceries to the elderly. And as luck would have it, Jeremy becomes the target of a centuries-old hottie (Celia Peck, daughter of Gregory) who bites him right before she's killed by vamp hunter Professor McCarthy (the scenery-chewing David Warner). Now, with the help of his vampire mentor (Hello Rene Auberjonois from TV's Benson and Star Trek: DS9!), Jeremy must adapt to his new lifestyle and learn how to "come out" to his friends and family. And playing his mom? Fried Green Tomatoes author Fannie Flag. I know: Shut. Up.

Transylvania 6-5000 (1985)

More monster mash-up than straight-up vampire flick, this Mel Brooksian comedy stars Ed Begley Jr. and Jeff Goldblum as tabloid journalists who travel to the fictitious country to investigate the reappearance of Frankenstein's monster. What they get instead are several run-ins with a variety of boogymen (and women) who, by the end, just turn out to be misunderstood outcasts. A camped-up Geena Davis, sporting enough cleavage to give any Hooters waitress a run for her money, appears as the movie's sole bloodsucker. Other familiar faces to namecheck: Michael Richards as a prankster butler, Carol Kane as Dr. Frankenstein's kooky aide, and Norman Fell as the boys' cranky editor at the paper. A fun romp:

The Monster Squad (1987)

It's as if someone went to Tri-Star Pictures and said, "I got your next Goonies. Just replace the pirates and bad guys with Dracula, the Mummy, and the Wolfman." To which Tri-Star might have replied, "But we're not Universal. It's gonna cost us a lot of rich stuff to get the rights to those names." And there you have it. $12 million and a few obligatory Pepsi and Burger King placement shots later, we have ourselves a movie that taught us that werewolves indeed have gnards. All this from the guy who wrote Lethal Weapon and Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. And is it me, or is it now a little unsettling to see a 12-year-old lock and load a shotgun?

Updating my Netflix queue as I type,

H.P.M.

*The 1980s: Those ancient times, back when rotary phones were still in use, people played vinyl records and tape cassettes, and your mom and sister went through a can of Aqua Net in one week.

When Bad Music Videos Happen to Great Pop Songs

2011-08-01T12:33:00.000-07:00

When you hear a pop song you absolutely love, it's easy to assume (or hope) that the accompanying music video will only enhance the awesomeness of it with the right blend of imagery, overall production elements (sets, camerawork, casting), and perhaps a good narrative to follow. But when the end result does nothing to compliment said tune, it leaves a bad taste in the mouths of pop culture junkies who eagerly anticipate seeing their favorite singles manifest into the visual medium (If you're one to argue that music videos are already a dying art form, then let's save that discussion for another time).

Here are five great songs from major pop artists whose music videos were major letdowns, most likely because expectations had been so high at the time. I'm sure there are plenty more to nitpick, but this will have to do for now...

"Gimme More" by Britney Spears (2007)

Granted, this came out shortly after Brit shaved her head and went all Kimberly Shaw on an SUV with an umbrella...so how could we possibly expect the year's biggest trainwreck to get it together and shoot a video for the first single off Blackout, the album that promised - for the umpteenth time - a comeback of biblical proportions? A stripper pole? A horrible wig? Unflattering ass shots? No, no. no. Where's the hot choreography? Where are the hotter extras? Where's the friggin' concept? A Flipcam-shot montage of Ms. Spears sitting at a bar with a bunch of body doubles watching a raven-haired version of herself carelessly twirl around on a platform in a poorly fitted biker outfit does not a music video make:

"The Edge of Glory" by Lady Gaga (2011)

The most recent disappointment in memory comes from Mother Monster herself, and the fact that it's GAGA, Queen of Creativity, Mistress of the Millennial Music Video, makes it even more heartbreaking to see such a lack of imagination on display. Sure, "Born This Way" was nice, and "Judas" was alright, but for "The Edge of Glory," her best single since "Bad Romance," a ginormous ball was dropped. Rumor has it, her record label got a hold of music-vid veteran Joseph Kahn to direct the piece but quickly lost him when he "refused" to "co-direct" with the Haus of Gaga, the creative think tank that has become infamous for controlling all content pertaining to Her Monstrous Majesty. The result is a sad production that seems to have been thrown together at the 11th hour, poorly showcases the late and great Clarence Clemons (is that a homeless man sitting on the stoop playing for change?), and doesn't do this epic anthem any justice. There's nothing glorious about being on the edge of...a fire escape. Stick with the Google Chrome TV commercial instead.

"The One" by Backstreet Boys (2000)

Hey guys, let's take old concert footage, throw in some exclusive behind-the-scenes shots, give it to an editor who has 30 minutes to spare, and slap on a thank you message to our fans at the top! Awesome, right? WRONG. In other words, the Biggest Cop Out in Teen Pop:

"Give It 2 Me" by Madonna feat. Pharrell (2008)

Filming a photo shoot for W magazine, adding a few Warhol-esque camera filters, and strutting around with a feather boa isn't the stuff great music videos are made of, Madge. Shame on you - and your director.

"Runaway" by Maroon 5 (2011)

Since when did Adam Levine & Co. start providing soundtracks to surfing documentaries? In the music video for the last single off their latest album, not one member of the band appears in this 3-minute clip. What we get instead is some gorgeous shots of a guy surfing off the coast of some indeterminate country. Oh, and there are a few cutaways to a reasonably attractive woman who spins around in a red shawl. And waves. Lots of waves. I would've loved to have seen the call sheet for this minimalist shoot. What, the group couldn't at least be helicoptered in to simulate a jam session on a cliff overlooking a sunset? Lame:

If only I could go back in time to tweak the treatments made by the creative forces behind these pathetic excuses for music videos...

*UPDATE: Coincidentally, and fittingly, today is MTV's 30th anniversary.

Sigh,

H.P.M.

Theme Song of the Month: August 2011

2011-08-01T00:28:00.000-07:00

The buck-toothed bloke pictured here goes by the name of Example (real name Elliot Gleave, hence his initials inspiring the stage name). He's 29 and British. And a pretty talented rapper-singer at that.

He's got a nifty little club anthem called "Stay Awake" that's been sucking me in and making me a fan (also worth trying: "Changed The Way You Kissed Me"). Without being too heavy-handed, the single is a message to all the kids out there, advising them to responsibly take charge of their lives so that our entire future doesn't go down the toilet -- and to have a good time shufflin' to his beats, of course:

And yes, I'm still trying to decipher all the Cockney-ed lyrics in between.

H.P.M.

The Thing About SYTYCD

2011-07-29T16:19:00.000-07:00

Why, after eight seasons, Fox's So You Think You Can Dance continues to take a backseat to ABC's increasingly ingratiating Dancing With The Stars remains a mystery to me. Is it because it's a summer show? Is it because the general perception is that it's mainly "for kids"?

SYTYCD's ratings are frustratingly measly compared to those of the below-cruise-ship-variety-show standards seen on Stars. Whereas DWTS seems to revel in sensationalistic cheese, SYTYCD celebrates true artistry. While I do acknowledge how much blood, sweat, and tears all of those reality stars, football players, and Tinseltown burnouts go through, I can't help but scoff at their efforts...because there seems to underlie a narcissism that fuels them to go on, stumble across the stage to non-pro choreography, and soak up a spotlight they hope will shine long after they're voted off. And here's a little-known fact: they get paid handsome salaries per episode, none of it going to charity. If that doesn't turn you off, then by all means, continue watching.

It's a shame, because you'll be missing something as epic as this:

Meanwhile, over at SYTYCD, we have young artists who are simply chasing a dream and unabashedly exposing themselves on the dance floor through refreshingly diverse dance numbers that range from Bollywood flamboyancy and elegant Ballroom to emotional Contemporary and bumpin' Hip-Hop (the weekly theme-driven costuming and make-up is an extraordinary achievement as well). And just because it doesn't have any "Stars" in its title, it doesn't mean they don't have any famous faces grace the studio every week. This season the show welcomed celeb guest judges who, for the most part, offered very helpful feedback. Audiences were treated to delicious soundbites from Kristin Chenowith, Debbie Reynolds, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Neil Patrick Harris, Rob Marshall, and Mother Monster herself, Lady Gaga. Most surprising was the way their special appearances didn't feel stunty or forced. I'm sure each had something to promote, but they were also there because they wanted to be there. They too are genuine fans of the competition and are constantly wowed by the physics-defying movements made by these fiercely talented individuals week after week.

Case in point - the jaw-dropping July 27 performance from one of my personal favorites, contestant Melanie Moore:

The Top 20 from earlier this summer:

And last week's Top 8:

What I also love about this show is its dynamic use of music and its way of turning its "cast" of choreographers into celebrities. I've been introduced to amazing songs I wouldn't have known about had it not been for the wise selections made by Tabitha and Napoleon (Nappy Tabs) and the fabulously freaky Sonya Tayeh (thanks, girl, for letting me know about "Game On" by District 78). And don't even get me started on how I nearly lost my shit when I spotted Mia Michaels and Tyce Diorio lunching at Houston's in Century City.

Whew.

Tune in, people.

H.P.M.

What I Learned at Comic-Con

2011-07-25T01:03:00.000-07:00

Call me presumptuous, but I think I deserve some kind of badge of honor for surviving through five Comic-Cons. No? Well, here are a few things I've picked up on since making my first annual trek to the San Diego festivities in 2007:

1. If you plan to show up an hour early to a panel in either Ballroom 20 or Hall H: Do. Not. Bother. The 1,200 or so deodorant-challenged individuals already in line thought a 3-hour head-start was wise...and that doesn't include the other 800 who got there at the buttcrack of dawn to see a sneak peek of a movie they can eventually catch on YouTube one hour later (Note to Comic-Con organizers: please set up a frickin' system that can accommodate press in a more efficient way).

2. However, if you're really desperate to get in, hover near the exit and ask attendees if they plan to go back inside. They'll be the ones holding little colored pieces of paper that grants them a re-entry; hopefully they'll give you their slip. Unfortunately, this didn't work for me during my attempts to catch Sarah Michelle Gellar during the Ringer panel.

3. Those kids (and by "kids," I mean anyone more than 10 years younger than me) standing in the convention center hallways holding signs for "Free Hugs"...don't. Just don't.

4. If you MUST get a poster autographed by the cast of Teen Wolf, True Blood, or The Walking Dead, by all means, go out and brave the mass hysteria on the floor of the main exhibition hall. Just don't come back whining when you get a black eye from the elbow that clocked you when they were giving away free...key chains.

5. Despite the bombardment of emails from publicists, there are always invitations to parties or special events where the amenities for members of the press are out of this world. At the Robert Rodriguez party, we dined on prime rib and truffle baked potato slices and enjoyed a build-your-own-ice-cream-sundae bar. At the Wired magazine lounge I got free personalized engraving on my iPhone case, took a picture with the performers from the Cirque du Soleil show, Ka, slurped up some TruBlood at the open bar, and got a Budweiser T-shirt. At the ICM party, I discovered in my gift bag a colorful Atari tee and a Motorola wireless Bluetooth speakerphone for the car. While relaxing at the Limitless Café at the Arts & Cinema Centre, I enjoyed a turkey sandwich, a free copy of the Bradley Cooper thriller on DVD, and a complimentary bottle of the new Kenneth Cole fragrance, Connected. And at the launch party for the film Tucker and Dale Vs. Evil, we were bestowed with several Blu-rays, a bottle of Muscle Milk, a trucker cap, several postcards, and...a mason jar. In short, it’s good to be press.

6. One bottle of Bud Light + 1 TruBlood margarita + 2 vodka tonics + a random cocktail someone gives you at the UTA party = one sleepless night with acid reflux.

6a. Eliza Dushku is absolutely gorgeous in person.

7. Again, Hall H. Not worth the six-hour wait in line. Well, depending on the panel. If Steven Spielberg decides to make an appearance, you go ahead, be a good fanboy and worship at that altar of pop culture.

8. Those oversized canvas bags they pass out at the entrance only makes you look like a loser. Bring a backpack. Or take said oversized bag and use it for laundry when you get home.

9. Journalists and bloggers love their swag, free food, open bars, and any opportunity to harshly critique anything to one another in between bites of free dessert.

10. Don’t order the fried calamari at the Broken Yolk Café on 7th Street. I’ve seen sludge in gutters more appetizing than the lame starter platter they serve over at that place.

That all said, I cannot wait for next year. That reminds me: must book hotel room for 2012…now.

H.P.M.

Preview of a Bestseller

2011-07-20T14:31:00.000-07:00

If this were a noir-ish crime novel, I would open this chapter describing the raindrops on a window of the late-night diner where a hardened detective is sipping coffee and waiting for his next case to come walking in. There would be adjectives used to convey the mood of the place, the lighting from the neon sign outside, the glare of the veteran waitress who’s desperate for a cigarette break in the back alley where she once fooled around with a greasy short-order cook who eventually got drafted to war.

If this were young-adult romantic thriller, I would start out with the chaotic hustle and bustle of a high school hallway and delve into the thoughts of a female protagonist who’s been pining for the pale-skinned new boy in town with a dark and deadly secret (his habitual drinking of human blood wouldn’t be revealed until the third or fourth chapter – naturally). There would be complaints about upcoming exams, inner monologues about single-parent homelife and general adolescent loneliness that could come off as unbearable, self-absorbed whining to anyone over the age of 25.

And if this were some cheap, guilty-pleasure Harlequin paperback – the kind featuring a shirtless dude with a rippling torso embracing a damsel in apparent distress – I would begin with a few cliché-riddled lines about a hot summer day on a bayou with characters named Rebecca, Blake, Susannah, and Troy. The heroine’s troubled past would be immediately explored in order to establish her strengths and weaknesses. Mama was an alcoholic, Daddy died in a war, and brother Bobby was in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. Soon a tall, dark stranger strolls into the café where she works, and he turns out to be the savior she’s been yearning for after all these years. Yada, yada, yada.

But this isn’t one of those novels.

This also isn't one of those novels that attempts to be unlike any novel you’ve read before...

This is merely the opening chapter to what I hope will be my first novel, whether it be a suspense thriller of my own or the first volume of my fully fleshed-out memoirs that has been years in the making. Or just plain wishful thinking, a gesture to the universe to grab its attention.

Publishers, can you hear me?

H.P.M.

The Scorching: 2011 Summer Playlist - Vol. 4

2011-07-18T12:37:00.000-07:00

More tunage. More first-listens. More summery slickness.

Apparently there's no such thing as trilogies anymore (hence this fourth installment). So, after you've said your goodbyes to Harry Potter, after you've gotten the sand out of your ass, and after you've recovered from Comic-Con, try these on for size:

1. "Without You" by David Guetta feat. Usher - For when you've grown tired of that Taio Cruz mess.
2. "Blackout" by Breathe Carolina
3. "Heavy Metal Lover" by Lady GaGa - Featuring the best opening lyric of any dance song this year, "HML" is an irresistible industrial concoction with a cooing chorus that just. Won't. Go. Away.

4. "Swagger Jagger" Cher Lloyd
5. "In The Dark" by Dev
6. "One Club At A Time" by Midnight Red - B-side RedOne at its best, but still a worthy addition:

7. "Houdini" by Foster The People
8. "Lighters" by Bad Meets Evil feat. Bruno Mars
9. "Howlin' For You" by The Black Keys
10. "Fair Warning" by Penguin Prison
11. "Dedication To My Ex (Miss That)" by Lloyd feat. Andre 3000 - Or, the F**k You of 2011:

12. "Girl Talk" by Justin Faust:

13. "Lady Luck" by Jamie Woon
14. "Walls Come Down" by Keke Palmer
15. "Black and White" by Royal Tailor
16. "Rock Me" by Melanie C
17. "We Don't Get Down Like Y'all" by T.I. feat. B.o.B
18. "Heart Skips a Beat" by Olly Murs feat. Rizzle Kicks
19. "Free Fall" by Kelly Rowland
20. "Jealousy" by Will Young
21. "Surprise Surprise" by Brett Dennen
22. "Killa on the Run" by Sugababes
23. "Flesh" by Simon Curtis
24. "Collide" by Leona Lewis
25. "All About Tonight" by Pixie Lott
26. "Skyscraper" by Demi Lovato - Because it's the girl's I-Just-Got-Out-Of-Rehab anthem.

See you after Labor Day,

H.P.M.

Carmageddon: L.A. at its Most Overdramatic

2011-07-15T16:05:00.000-07:00

When it comes to making a fuss, Los Angeles is the master of it. The city with a reputation for being one giant playground, full of people with narcissistic tendencies, is that five-year-old child screaming in the sandbox, "Mommy, look at me! Look at me!" Here in sunny SoCal we have perfected the art of making mountains out of molehills, or rather, swimming pools out of soy lattes.

And we can't help it. We got the constant threat of earthquakes. We got mudslides. We got the Oscars, the Emmys, every ass-kissing awards ceremony imaginable. We got the Kardashians.

If you haven't heard by now (i.e. if you live in a normal part of the world), L.A. is going through a crisis. Ten miles of the 405 Freeway, one of the major interstates here in Southern California, will shut down tonight for 56 hours due a bridge demolition that is part of a $1 billion project aiming to widen the northbound and southbound lanes. It was only a few weeks ago that the press coined the term "Carmageddon" to describe the devastating effects this closure would have on a city where driving is practically a way of life. Traffic jams from hell! Don't go outside! The worst rubbernecking in history! And so forth.

This is a classic case of L.A.'s obsession with creating a brouhaha and focusing the world's attention on itself. And Carmageddon couldn't have had a better publicist. Stephen Colbert, Jay Leno, and others have had their fun ripping on the city's self-inflicted paranoia and fears. Carmageddon.com is selling T-shirts (I "405" L.A.) and posting tips and precautionary videos as dramatic - and hysterical - as those nuclear war propaganda films from the 1950s. Restaurants and bars are offering Carmegeddon specials ("Irish car bombs for $2!"). Officials have even opened an emergency operations center...

Leave it to Los Angeles to create a frenzy about its own impending doom as overdramatic as one of the cheesy action films it spits out year after year. Only can L.A. be the one city in America that makes national headlines about its road conditions and chaotic commuter culture. When was the last time you saw CNN coverage on road closures in Alberquerque or Des Moines? I don't think Diane Sawyer has ever reported on traffic detours in Lansing, Michigan.

This shit is serious, people.

Now excuse me while I park my Prius at a Coffee Bean and glue my eyes to a laptop while I wait for my insufferable world to end.

H.P.M.

Farewell Mr. Potter

2011-07-14T01:15:00.000-07:00

My first trip to Hogwarts took place shortly after Thanksgiving in 2001. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone was a charming affair with Chris Columbus at the helm and adorable children with British accents practicing magic and running around in grown-up clothing. It was, to put it tritely, cute. My mom and I took in a matinee of the film and enjoyed the kid-lit adaptation at the Regal 18 in New Rochelle while I was home from college during my senior year. I thought it was a pleasant enough fantasy saga that would help me get in the mood for the forthcoming opening chapter of The Lord of the Rings. After all, everyone back then could have used a little wizardry; 9/11, having been only two months prior, was still fresh in our memories.

Then, the inevitable sequel came while I was still adjusting to my new life in Los Angeles. I kept seeing the words "darker" and "scarier" being thrown around to describe Chamber of Secrets, and after throwing down ten bucks to see it in Century City one autumn afternoon, I found myself just as charmed, jumping out of my seat once during the icky showdown with that giant snake. Again, cute.

Then, an interesting thing happened during the summer of 2004. And that was: The Prisoner of Azkaban. Gone was the Columbusian popcorny sheen of the first two movies and injected were an edgier tone and look. The camerawork was slightly rougher. Thank you, Alfonso Cuaron, for officially sucking me in to this captivating saga about an orphaned boy wonder who learns how to fight the forces of darkness with the flick of a wand. This was the movie that got me hooked. This was the film that sparked my interest in the novels. From then on, I made an effort to read each subsequent book before its film adaptation was released in theaters.

Goblet of Fire, or Year 4, was a doozy of book, and I ate it up before attending the opening night in Hollywood in the fall of 2005. For the first time, I was able to watch a Harry Potter movie with more of an appreciation and understanding of the characters and a keener sense of what was going on - and more importantly - what was left out or lost in the filmic translation. As for the actors, they were certainly growing up before our eyes. I considered this The Shaggy Year. Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, and some of the other male actors were sporting longer locks, and for those brief two hours it seemed as if the 60s were making a comeback (did you hear that rock band at the Yule Ball?). Speaking of that dance, this was the first time we saw Emma Watson's Hermoine glam it up for the occasion (cut to Ron: schwing!). And believe it or not, back then I took a liking to the actor who played the ill-fated Cedric Diggory and knew this wasn't going to be the last time we'd see the name Robert Pattinson on the big screen (for the record, the mania surrounding Twilight dumbfounds me - and irks me - to this day).

By 2007 I was a bonafide fanatic of the J.K. Rowling series. I scoured the Internet for first-look images, teaser trailers, and publicity shots of each upcoming film. The tagline for the fifth installment, "The Rebellion Begins," sent chills down my fanboy spine. Harry was getting ready to kick some dark wizard ass in Order of the Phoenix, and I got a kick out of seeing Dumbledore's Army coming together, rendezvousing behind Professor Umbridge's back. In other words, shit was about get real.

That summer also saw the release of the final book, a mammoth volume that created lines around Borders (remember that place?) and sold out within hours. I bought my copy knowing full well that I wouldn't be able to read it for a while (it's the only hardcover edition of the series I own).

The Half-Blood Prince was the calm before the storm. It clearly set the stage for the final battle and gave Harry plenty of ammunition to fight Voldemort. Unfortunately the whole Dumbledore Dies Plot Twist was spoiled for me before I could start the first chapter of the book. Regardless, I plowed through it before seeing it in the theater.

Part 1 of The Deathly Hallows was a stunner. Possibly the biggest character study of the seven films thus far, this was where we spent a lot of time away from Hogwarts, watching Harry, Hermoine, and Ron get quite a bit of facetime with each other while on the run from Voldemort’s minions. For the first time we saw these characters on their own, fending for themselves in a very scary, real world. And that naked Harry-Hermoine hallucination Ron experienced in the woods? Holy We’re-Not-in-Chris-Columbus-Land-Anymore Batman.

Now, as I sit and wait on the eve of the opening of the final movie in this enormously successful series, I anticipate a memorable and emotional cinematic experience (Tickets for the midnight screening at the Arclight in Sherman Oaks were purchased a month ago). I won't be surprised if a tear will be shed, especially during the flash-forward epilogue (SPOILER: In a very Six Feet Under-esque ending, we see our heroes grown up with children of their own). It truly is the end of a moviegoing era.

And while I look forward to seeing what Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, Rupert Grint and rest of the Hogwarts alumni will be up to once that final credit rolls, I thank everyone involved (especially you, Ms. Rowling) for giving the world a universally amazing piece of entertainment that defied all odds, instilled a healthy reading habit in a generation, inspired millions, and brought the word "Muggle" into everyone's vocabulary.

Raising my mug of butterbeer,

H.P.M

Me, Justin & Mila

2011-07-13T13:51:00.000-07:00

If you'd like to check out my Sunday morning on the beach with the stars of Friends With Benefits, click on over here.

I also got to chat with Justin and Mila's fabulous co-stars, Jenna Elfman (who's quite a dancer...who knew?) and Patricia Clarkson (what a dame).

Revenge of the 90s

2011-07-07T00:08:00.000-07:00

I think one of the prerequisites for settling into your early 30s is accepting that teenagers today don't have what you had when you were their age (and vice versa).

Also accepted is the more apparent fact that 90s nostalgia is alive and kicking in the 2010s.

By now, popular culture has gotten it down to a science: What was hot 20 years ago tends to rear its vintage head and come back into vogue. The 80s loved its 60s. The 90s grooved to the 70s. And the 00s reveled in the 80s. So it makes logical sense that the 90s have now become all the rage.

The proof is all around us...

The CW caught on early by bringing back 90s stalwarts 90210 (successfully) and Melrose Place (unsuccessfully) three television seasons ago. The Backstreet Boys are back on tour (granted, co-headlining with NKOTB). No Doubt is prepping to release a new album later this year. Plaid flannel is in. VH1 has begun to air a block of morning programming dedicated to videos by the likes of Ace of Base, Garbage, and EMF. There's that Total Recall remake starring Colin Farrell due in 2012. Demand for Jurassic Park on Blu-ray has generated a sizable fanboy storm. TeenNick kicked off "The 90s Are All That" earlier this year, a late-night line-up featuring reruns of Clarissa Explains It All, Rugrats, and other Clinton-era pleasures. Turn on any radio, and you'll find enough Ibiza-esque dance beats on Top 40 to bring any La Bouche or Real McCoy fan to tears. And I have no doubt in my mind that on college campuses across America, students are breaking out the Doc Martens, floral skirts, and turtlenecks to partake in 90s-themed keggers.

Before you raise your fists to the sky and dramatically shout, "It's too soon!" remember this inevitable truth: it's all cyclical. What is old becomes new again. So kudos to you if you were one of the few who held on to that unflattering Tommy Hilfiger polo and VHS copy of Spice World. When the present becomes too much to handle, or if there's nothing new to enjoy, we look to the past. All of this, I believe, correlates to the fact that we are all slaves to a culture with a growing attention deficit.

If you're a follower of this small blog of mine, you know what kind of adolescence I endured during said decade: An all-boys prep school education, an obsession with Alanis Morissette's life-changing Jagged Little Pill, geeky speech-and-debate triumphs, and a penchant for keeping my nose deeply planted in every paperback novel ever written by Christopher Pike, Dean Koontz, and R.L. Stine.

I know I am not alone when I cringe at the thought of a decade I mostly cherish coming back to entertain and ultimately haunt us for the next several years.

Praying there's no Independence Day reboot while I start outlining my script for a new X-Files movie,

H.P.M.

The Blazing: 2011 Summer Playlist - Vol. 3

2011-07-06T22:54:00.000-07:00

Apparently there's plenty of tunage to go around this summer. So much, in fact, I've assembled another 30 tracks for your listening pleasure; I present to you my third volume. After all, doesn't everything come in threes?

May this accompany you on your travels to the pool, to Comic-Con, to your grandmother's house, or to your local Starbucks for an icy Coconut Mocha Frappucino. Enjoy:

1. "Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO
2. "Schoolin' Life" by Beyonce - Another deluxe edition track that unfortunately will never be released as a single for all to enjoy (why, God, why?), so get your fix of this refreshingly 80s-esque anthem of sass here:

3. "Aphrodite" by Kylie Minogue
4. "Talk Talk Talk" by Darren Hayes
5. "Big Fat Bass" by Britney Spears feat. will.i.am
6. "Punching in a Dream" by The Naked and Famous
7. "Galaxies" by Owl City
8. "Not That Kinda Girl" by The Saturdays
9. "Mr Saxobeat" by Alexandra Stan
10. "Changed The Way You Kissed Me" by Example - With faint echoes of New Order's "Blue Monday," this latest single from the English rapper soars during its hard-hitting chorus:

11. "This City" by Patrick Stump feat. Lupe Fiasco - The Fall Out Boy frontman shows his funky-soulful side, and all is hella good.
12. "Highway Unicorn (Road to Love)" by Lady Gaga
13. "Took My Love" by Pitbull feat. Red Foo, Vein & David Rush - A more understated dance jam from Mr. Worldwide.
14. "Stitch by Stitch" by Javier Colon
15. "Feels So Good (Radio Edit)" by Armin Van Burren feat. Nadia Ali
16. "Just Once" by Databoy
17. "Major Minus" by Coldplay
18. "Gold Mine" by Breanne Duren
19. "Cryin' Over You" by The Nightcrawlers feat. Taio Cruz
20. "Love Gun" by Michelle Williams - The forgotten child of Destiny recently put out this buzz single that, despite the cheesy Casio keyboard breakdown in the last third, is like one of those songs to which you'll be dancing on your own (after several vodka tonics, of course) long after last call.
21. "The Yacht Club" by Owl City
22. "So You Into You" by Ledisi
23. "Set My World On Fire" by The Feeling
24. "When The Lights Go Down" by Grace V
25. "The Worse It Gets" by Penguin Prison:

26. "Who Dat Addictive Bad S&M Girl" by Marc Johnce - The master of the mash-up outdoes himself with this supersonic mosaic of Top 40 dance hits.
27. "Put Your Hands Up (If You Feel Love)" by Kylie Minogue
28. "Stay Awake" by Example - The bloke's second tune on this list is a celebratory ode to "a messed-up generation" punctuated by the drowsy vocals of the rapper otherwise known as Elliot Gleave.
29. "You Are A Tourist" by Death Cab for Cutie
30. "Sweetest High" by Nadine Coyle

Theme Song of the Month: July

2011-07-01T00:36:00.000-07:00

Although I like to think that I got some rhythm in me - compared to some other writers I know who have never stepped foot on a dance floor - I know my moves will never land me a ticket to Vegas on SYTYCD.

But still...give me a funky groove, some souful vocals, and a catchy-as-hell chorus, and I shall proceed to bust a move and further prove that my ass has a mind of its own once it's given a proper bass to follow.

"Moves Like Jagger" by Maroon 5 featuring Christina In-Need-of-a-Rebranding Aguilera is currently the song I can't get enough of. Whistle along, won't you?

As Jcrazy914 once commented on YouTube, I hope my neighbors like this song.

You've Lived in L.A. Long Enough When...

2011-06-29T18:04:00.000-07:00

...Facebook starts suggesting directors of blockbuster R-rated comedies and sitcom stars as "people you may know."

Meanwhile, at Literati Cafe...

2011-06-28T17:15:00.000-07:00

Leslie Mann window shops for a sweet treat and studies the refrigerated desserts in the glass display, only to end up settling for a mocha latte (probably with soy, she looks like the type).

I, sitting at my corner table, am tempted to purchase a chocolate chip scone after scarfing down a bland turkey melt. I also envision myself tapping the Knocked Up actress on the shoulder and asking her if I could score a meeting with her husband, Judd Apatow, so that I could pitch a few ideas to him. I then have to remind myself that I am neither that obnoxious nor tactless when it comes to approaching the celebrity spouse of a Hollywood bigwig.

Back to work...

Nine

2011-06-27T00:50:00.000-07:00

I lived through the Trucker Cap Takeover of 2003. I survived the reign of The Governator. I participated in the historic marches for NOH8. I witnessed The Great Pinkberry Explosion of 2008...followed by The Great Pinkberry Implosion two years later.

And later this summer I shall experience the aftershocks caused by The Giant Closure of the 405 Freeway, or Carmageddon, as locals are calling it.

By now, there's nothing besides that long-awaited Big One that will shake me like a proverbial Polaroid picture and force me to leave my Southern California haven I call Los Angeles.

When I moved here nine years ago (today) I could not have imagined the things, the people, the events that would shape me, inspire me, and help me get to where I am now (Heads up: there's going to be a lot of talk about journeys, reflections, and continued aspirations while I celebrate this personal anniversary of mine).

Nine years ago I didn't know what a blog was. I never heard of a smartphone, but I did think highly of my little Nokia cellular. I didn't have an iPod that enabled by music download addiction. Nine years ago I wouldn't have placed my money on a cranky Brit named Simon Cowell. I would have scoffed at the idea of having cameras follow a group of guidos (or housewives) in New Jersey (actually, I still do). I would have thought that Gaga was the name of a line of baby toys and not the surname of a viciously talented Lady with whom I would literally brush shoulders on the set of one of her iconic music videos. Nine years ago I didn't think I'd work on stages where television history was once made, sit down with celebrities to talk about their "inspirations", and randomly play Charades with the creator of Desperate Housewives one fateful night in Burbank.

Nine years ago I would have never imagined that I would be nurturing my narcissistic tendencies through something as simple as a status update.

What I did have nine years ago was this: big eyes, big dreams, and big debt. The eyes are still big, although they get that way whenever I get a glimpse of the lunch spread at the Four Seasons Hotel during a press junket. My dreams are still big, although I have learned to reassess my priorities and discipline myself more (that television pilot ain't gonna write itself). And that debt? Still there, still big, still annoying as shit.

I'm not sure if I could dignify the question, "What would you tell your 22-year-old self now?" with an answer. He had to learn and enjoy everything as it came. Otherwise, he wouldn't be the jaded, thankful, enlightened, honored, educated, humbled, and loved individual who speaks to you now (although, I might warn him about rear-ending that Ford Explorer back in April of '03 and tell him to avoid buying that ugly blue shirt he'll never wear from that douchey store on Melrose).

I could go on, reflect some more, analyze the crap out of my life, and fall into the trap of nostalgia, but I have a life already in progress that I don't want to miss.

It's time focus on the now and the next nine years...trends, fads and Mother Nature permitting.

Happy Anniversary to me,

H.P.M.

Searching for Christopher Pike, Part 2

2011-06-26T19:24:00.000-07:00

God bless Facebook.

My blog entry and video from earlier this month, honoring the literary idol who had quite the impact on my life as a writer and an all-around bookworm, generated a few reactions and comments online, most notably this one:

As you may recall, Kevin McFadden is the real name behind the pseudonym Christopher Pike, the reclusive author responsible for dozens of young-adult novels that kept a generation of readers in suspense and entertained.

The moment I found this message in my FB inbox my jaw dropped. Could it be? Had he seen the link I posted on his fanpage? Naturally, I had my doubts and feared an impostor setting me up for humiliation.

And then there was this (click on it for a closer look)...

...followed by this response:

This could possibly set a personal record for being the most geeked-out in my life. More so than the time I waited in line with J.J. Abrams at a sushi buffet during the afterparty for the Revenge of the Sith premiere. More so than the time I shook hands with Alanis Morrisette at Barnes & Noble back in the summer of 2004. More so than the time I interviewed Wes Craven on the red carpet for the Scream Awards at the Greek Theater...

Truly. Not. Worthy.

H.P.M.

The Burning: 2011 Summer Playlist - Vol. 2

2011-06-23T11:45:00.000-07:00

Because one mix is not enough to keep you quenched and satisfied while things are just starting to sizzle...

Here are thirty (30!) more tunes to load up on your iThingy and add to what's proving to be one megasoundtrack for the Summer of '11:

1. "Moves Like Jagger" by Maroon 5 feat. Christina Aguilera - First, a little electro-funk from a pairing I didn't know would work so well.

2. "Marry the Night" by Lady Gaga
3. "Dirty Dancer" by Enrique Iglesias feat. Usher & Lil Wayne
4. "Super Bass" by Nicki Minaj
5. "Helena Beat" by Foster the People - The alt-pop anthem of the year. There, I said it.

6. "You Make Me Feel" by Cobra Starship feat. Sabi - Irresistible Red Bull-fueled trash.
7. "Hypnotico" by Jennifer Lopez - From her latest CD, this bonus track was written by Lady Gaga and deserves to see the light of play.
8. "Unfriend You" by Greyson Chance - I've said it before, and I'll say it again: This kid kicks Bieber's ass. How come no one's talking about this underrated single? Listen here.
9. "Every Teardrop is a Waterfall" by Coldplay
10. "Save the World" by Swedish House Mafia - And the video just makes it better.

11. "Notorious" by The Saturdays
12. "Sexin' on the Dancefloor" by Cash Cash
13. "She Ain't You" by Chris Brown
14. "What a Feeling" by Alex Gaudino feat. Kelly Rowland
15. "Love Love" by Take That
16. "Still Got Tonight" by Matthew Morrison
17. "International Love" by Pitbull feat. Chris Brown
18. "Right There" by Nicole Scherzinger feat. 50 Cent
19. "Little Bad Girl" by David Guetta feat. Taio Cruz
20. "Best Thing I Never Had" by Beyonce - The best thing she should've released as a first single from her forthcoming album.
21. "Whiplash" by Selena Gomez and the Scene - Britney wrote it, and although one may prefer to hear the Femme Fatale sing it, the Disney princess does an admirable job.
22. "Glad You Came" by The Wanted
23. "Stereo Hearts" by Gym Class Heroes feat. Adam Levine
24. "Hair" by Lady GaGa - The other uplifting pop anthem featuring the late and great Clarence Clemons.
25. "What I Know" by Parachute
26. "Wonderman" by Tinie Tempah feat. Ellie Goulding
27. "Not Over You" by Gavin DeGraw
28. "Golden Train" by Penguin Prison
29. "Burning Up" by Nick Carter feat. Briton Briddy Shaw
30. "Scary" by Britney Spears - Sure, "I Wanna Go" is the single du jour, but try this Japanese import on for size.

Till next time,

H.P.M.

Searching for Christopher Pike

2011-06-15T11:23:00.000-07:00

"Nostalgia is denial of the painful present." - Paul, Midnight in Paris

Having developed a tendency to frequently shuffle the 90s playlist on my iPod and honor the anniversaries of certain movie releases, it's been brought to my attention that I have become the King of Looking Back. And if it's because I refuse to accept and face the "painful present," then...oh, who am I kidding? That's the reason. My bank account shames me whenever I glance at the balance on my ATM receipts, a diet of Diddy Riese cookies and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese has done nothing for my health, and the pressure to do that whole "figure out my place in the world" thing is a struggle I face almost every day.

But I continue to revisit the past. This month I have decided to dig up old copies from Christopher Pike's The Last Vampire series and reread the fifth and sixth installments, Evil Thirst and Creatures of Forever, for a couple of reasons. First, the bestselling young-adult author has recently released a seventh Vampire novel after his publisher capitalized on the whole bloodsucker craze and repackaged the first six books as two mega volumes titled Thirst (an eighth book, or fourth "volume," is expected to hit shelves in the fall). Needless to say, this piqued my interest, and I wanted to refresh my memory before I dived into these new stories about our immortal heroine, Alisa, and her epic dramas involving Egyptian gods, nuclear espionage, reincarnation, and becoming a mother to a creature as deadly as her worst enemy.

The other reason was to see if these books held up fifteen years after I first read them as a 16-year-old working at an amusement park on the shores of Long Island Sound in New York. And they do. The engaging first-person narrative of these particular novels far surpasses the writing in most of the YA thrillers that were popular at the time. And from what I remember, the more mature content and three-dimensional characters in Pike's other books made his stories all the more compelling to read. There were no contrived tales of terrorized babysitters, teenage fatal attractions, or other cliched adolescent fodder. Sure, his characters were in high school, but he went beneath the trendy surfaces and touched upon themes - both cosmic and existential - rarely seen in demographically similar novels.

My rekindled relationship with Christopher Pike actually came about last year when I was inspired to track down the ever elusive author (his real name is Kevin McFadden, and he's known to be somewhat of a recluse). I even spent a good part of last summer putting together a pitch for a documentary about a struggling writer's quest to meet one of his literary idols (guess who was the protagonist?), and I turned to a few friends and acquaintances for help:

It's clearly a work in progress, just like the rest of my life. Speaking of which, my 9-year anniversary of living in L.A. is quickly approaching, and I have much to reflect upon...but more on that later.

Searching and searching,

H.P.M.

15 Years Late But...

2011-06-06T00:17:00.000-07:00

I finally bought a copy of The Score by The Fugees. For a dollar at a library book sale no less.

Listening to the album now in 2011, the beats and rhymes seem so quaint and...organic. Lauryn, before she allegedly went batshit crazy. Wyclef, before he sunk deeper into irrelevancy, especially after ruining last year's remake of "We Are The World." And that other guy...whoever he is.

As the CD jumps to "Fu-Gee-La," I'm transported back to my sophomore year dance at Iona Prep, grinding and getting my proverbial groove on in the school cafeteria which had been turned into a nightclub with vending machines, the scent of lunchmeat lingering above a throng of 15- and 16-year-olds dressed to the nines in baggy jeans, Tommy Hilfiger tees, and Air Jordans.

Being killed softly,

H.P.M.

Theme Song of the Month: June

2011-06-01T01:21:00.000-07:00

Who knew that it would take an episode of The Vampire Diaries and two listens on L.A.'s alternative radio station to get me attached to this unique rock jam? It's Foster for the People's "Helena Beat," a surprise summer anthem that just might earn a slot on my Top 10 Songs of 2011 (and yes, that's a dude singing). Take a little bit of MGMT and a little bit of Spoon, and voila:

By the way, it was the Free Download of the Week on iTunes. Congrats if you were lucky enough to grab it.

H.P.M.

10 Years Ago This Week: "Lady Marmalade" & Six Feet Under

2011-05-29T13:10:00.000-07:00

It's been a decade since Baz Lurhmann reinvigorated the movie musical with Moulin Rouge and Missy Elliot recruited her army of pop sluts to remake Labelle's 70s hit.

Along with superproducer Rockwilder, Missy employed 00s pop darlings Christina Aguilera, Mya, Pink, and Lil' Kim to strut their stuff in corsets and peacock feathers and bring some French-speaking funk into the new millennium. Coincidentally, the tune was also the lead single from the aforementioned movie's soundtrack and stayed at the top of the Billboard charts for six weeks, starting shortly after the 2001 Memorial Day weekend.

My last full summer living in New York was spent as an employee of Westchester County, working at Glen Island Park, lunching by the beach, taking train rides into Manhattan to take advantage of my turning 21, and getting hooked on a new HBO drama called Six Feet Under:

It just so happens that one my many trips down to the city that summer also included a matinee of Nicole Kidman's The Others at a theater down by the World Trade Center - exactly one month before that fateful day in September.

Farewell Oprah

2011-05-25T11:18:00.000-07:00

TV historians, take note.

Today we bid adieu to a woman who is not only a talk-show host and mogul; she's a spiritual leader, an advocate for literacy, an educator, an icon, and undeniably, an American institution that has influenced the lives of millions. Today is one of those moments you'll want to remember so that you have an answer to the question, "Where were you when...?"

I was 6-years-old when the former local Chicago news anchor with the unusual name took to the stage and welcomed her first studio audience and first panel of guests. Since then, my memories of The Oprah Winfrey Show were scattered randomly over two decades' worth of afternoons. As a child, I knew that she was always there when I came home from school, always on after General Hospital. As a teenager, I knew she sometimes chatted with some cool guests and had gotten several intense exclusives. As a young adult, I admired her philanthropy and appreciated her vulnerability as she discussed topics that inspired movements and shot her above what was once considered fluffy daytime television for housewives.

I remember the varied opening theme songs (especially her own version of "I'm Every Woman" shortly after The Bodyguard soundtrack blew up). I remember the celebrity interviews (the cast of The First Wives Clubs, those fresh-faced new actors from that Friends show, that Whitney interview). And I remember the countless shows about improving one's life, whether it be through dieting (the wagon of fat!), wardrobe makeovers, loving yourself, or forgiving the unforgivable.

Now, as a 31-year-old viewer, I have been riveted by O's 25th and final season. The reunions, the shattered social taboos, the honored history, the love - how can anyone top what she's done and provided for her global audience? Answer: I don't think anyone can.

Where will I be today? I will be watching (Kleenex optional).

H.P.M.

Random Thought of the Week #23

2011-05-22T09:36:00.000-07:00

...among other things.

How to Listen to Lady Gaga's Born This Way

2011-05-17T23:59:00.001-07:00

*UPDATED 5/23/11.

Possibly the most anticipated pop album to come along in years, Lady Gaga's Born This Way has a lot to prove and live up to. After all, LG went as far as to call it "the Album of the Decade." And after sampling - and replaying - this baby while on a retreat in Palm Springs, I have a couple of things to say...

First, almost half of the album (the Deluxe Edition, that is) may polarize fans with its way-out-there, not-so-radio-friendly selections. Second, the insane production value and in-your-face lyrics in some songs seem to convey an inflated ego at work. That, or an insatiable desire and ambition to reinvent oneself while redefining pop music in the process. I'm exhausted just thinking about what's she's accomplished in less than three years. However, with that all said, if you think about it, there really is no other current female artist who's as bold and daring as this chick. Some of you may even hate me for this, but Gaga has now raised the bar so high and continues to influence Top 40 (c'mon, who hasn't worked with RedOne at this point?), that she makes Britney seem like a heavily medicated - and used - sex puppet. I guess there's validity behind the reason why she recently topped Forbes's list of Most Powerful Celebrities.

Here's a primer to fully absorb the just-released and soon-to-be-picked-apart album. The songs are listed in order of preference, starting with the best and ending with the less tolerable tracks that should (hopefully) never be released as singles:

1. "Born This Way" - Annoying Madonna comparisons aside, the inspirational title track should be played first because a) we all know it b) its familiarity will settle you in for a beat-heavy collection of supersonic proportions and c) it'll seem quaint after you get to those final three.
2. "The Edge of Glory" - Just for Clarence Clemon's sax solo alone.
3. "Hair" - Here she continues to preach the message of Being Yourself with this empowering anthem courtesy of RedOne.
4. "Marry the Night" - It's like a lost single from The Rocky Horror Picture Show...if it had been remade in the early 90s (and that's a good thing).
5. "You and I" - The closest thing to a ballad you'll get on the disc, this track has a bit of a country twang to it (is she hoping to woo those Bible-thumping cowboys down south or what?) and delivers some powerhouse vocals.
6. "Highway Unicorn (Road to Love)" - Another 80s-esque, synth-filled epic that could've been orchestrated by a flamboyant Hans Zimmer and featured on the soundtracks to either Vision Quest or Days of Thunder.
7. "Heavy Metal Lover" - An irresistible cooing chorus gets drowned out by some weighty Auto-tune during which it's reiterated that our gal certainly likes her whiskey.
8. "Fashion of His Love" - Haters who brought upon those Madonna rip-off comments may be tempted to criticize her for mimicking Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" here. Lovers will soak up its glorious danciness.
9. "The Queen" - Be Yourself Anthem #3. And bonus points for the doo-woppy, electric guitar breakdown in the last third.
10. "Electric Chapel" - In which Gaga comes close to channeling Pat Benatar while getting her rocker on.
11. "Black Jesus - Amen Fashion" - In which she tells Jesus to work it on the runway. Really. Because, after all, he's the new black.
12. "Judas" - Because by now, you should be able to digest the stuttering proclamations and blatant religious allegories and forget that this single had crashed and burned the instant it leaked.
13. "Bad Kids" - In which she proclaims to be a loser, and damn it, she's proud of being such a degenerate.
14. "Americano" - No, it's not an ode to her favorite espresso drink. Instead, a derivative Spanish guitar guides us through a sometimes messy wonderland of drunken shouting.
15. "Government Hooker" - It starts out as an odd techno-opera of sorts and then dives head first into S&M Land. I instantly had visions of being tied down in a leather bar and subjected to things I shouldn't type here. Once it ended, I had an urge to go out and get tested for STDs.
16. "SchieBe" - Remember that not-so-radio-friendly thing I talked about? Gaga goes industrial goth here with half of the song spoken (or rapped?) in German - not the prettiest language for a dance song.
17. "Bloody Mary" - More shoutouts to Jesus in what's surprisingly a dance downer. (Paging Depeche Mode...)

*By the way, Disc 2 in the Deluxe Edition features four remixes. The only one worth checking out is the already released "Country Road Version" of the album's title track. (yay for harmonicas!)

Overall: 8.5 (out of 10)

Born This Way comes out Monday, May 23.

Guilty Pleasure of the Week: "Unfriend You"

2011-05-16T23:01:00.000-07:00

*Updated 6/30/11

It's come to this, kids: Pop songs named after Facebook-inspired verbology.

While overdosing on new music downloads this week (19 songs just today) I stumbled upon this surprising little ditty from everyone's favorite piano-playing angel who, if you ask me, will always kick Bieber's ass in the artistic prowess department. Greyson Chance (remember the kid who sang GaGa's "Paparazzi" at his school talent show?) has penned the light and airy "Unfriend You," a response to the lying, two-faced bitch who hurt his heart in the seventh grade (yep, he turns 14 this August - get over it).

For anyone who's ever been broken-hearted in junior high (For me, it was the sixth grade; a certain cheerleader who shall remain nameless flirted with me just to get to my best friend...so excuse me if this song resonates a bit with me):

PS - What's with the lens flares? Did JJ Abrams direct this?

London Calling...and Calling

2011-05-10T14:34:00.000-07:00

Ten years ago this month I said farewell to England as I completed my junior year through Boston University's internship program in London. After five memorable months of navigating the Underground, minding the gap, munching on fish and chips, and becoming a high tea convert in the posh neighborhood of South Kensington, I felt myself becoming a true Anglophile. Now, whenever I flip over to BBC America, I find myself pining for a black cab to come and whisk me away to Trafalgar Square or Covent Garden.

One of my earliest memories of living in what I call "the Manhattan of Europe" involved a visit to the historic Tower of London along the Thames River. It was a chilly (and wet) January morning. I bundled myself up in a long, woolen Pierre Cardin coat I had bought in Boston the year before. If it weren't for the American Eagle baseball cap (or the Old Navy jeans...or my pair of navy blue Sketchers), I could've passed for a young Asian businessman out for a stroll before attending a board meeting and conducting a peaceful takeover of a subsidiary.

My student tour group congregated in the center court of the ancient property and waited for our guide to lead us through a labyrinthine structure of slippery cobblestone, wooden stairs, and gravel pathways. Dozens of pigeons sat perched above us in barren trees. I imagined them all observing us with cockney accents ("Oy, look at 'em American tourists! Who'da hell dey think dey are comin' into arr coontry?"). I was hoping this tour wouldn't take too long as I was anticipating trying my first proper basket of fish-n-chips ("takeaway," not "to go") at a nearby pub that also served a fine pint of pear cider. I had neglected to eat some breakfast before leaving my Queens Gate flat, and my stomach hated me for it. Finally, when our bespectacled leader arrived, an energetic chap with - you guessed it - a set of less-than-desirable chompers, I loaded a roll of film into my camera (no digitals back then - how primitive!) and lined up behind my flatmate. It was then when I felt a heavy raindrop hit the arm of my coat. Great, I thought. I didn't even bring an umbrella with me. A girl standing to my left gasped and pointed to my arm. I tilted my head and caught what had actually fallen on my less-than-a-year-old designer coat - a large, chunky white streak of paint? I wished.

"Shit," I muttered. Literally. As in, British pigeon excrement (my classier term for bird poop). Needless to say, my appetite disappeared in that instant.

I also became fascinated with Top of the Pops, an American Bandstand-like program that aired every Friday night. Back in the spring of 2001, those lads from uber-boyband Westlife were all the rage:

Naturally I bought the single, and it quickly became a track on the mix CD I eventually made to encapsulate my time spent in the UK.

Living in Europe also introduced me to the wonder that is The Unreleased Single By An American Artist (also known as The European Import). Exhibit A: 'NSync's catchy-as-hell "I'll Never Stop," a jam that sadly never made it to the American tracklisting of the group's No Strings Attached the year before. My friend Michelle and I blared this song on my Discman (that's right) during a bus ride back to London from Wales. We had just completed an "Adventure Weekend" with eight other students during which I celebrated my 21st birthday at a rustic B&B in a small village - complete with a babbling brook, a stone fireplace, home-cooked meals and several dirt roads begging to be explored (I expected to run into Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy as I strolled along the nearby lake). The occasion was a bit anticlimactic since the drinking age out there was - and still is - 18. I had already been a legal drinker the moment I stepped off the plane two months earlier. Still, the weekend provided one of most memorable birthdays I had ever had. And painful. Rock climbing and horseback riding across the gorgeous countryside left my body sore in places I had never known existed.

This lame excuse for a music video seems to have been produced on a budget of five quid (roughly $8), and to this day I scratch my head and wonder why this single never made it to America.

The rest of my Euro-experiences were all kept and preserved in photo albums, ticket stubs, several souvenirs, a couple of paperbacks, and one denim jacket I proudly purchased on the trendy Bond Street (Topshop, how I miss thee). Leicester Square, thanks for Hippodrome, the giant, gimmicky club no serious Londoner would find himself caught dead in. Bar Monaco in the West End, thank you for introducing me to Absolut Currant. Odeon Cinemas, thank you for your sweet-and-salty popcorn I happily inhaled while watching matinees of Save the Last Dance and Bridget Jones's Diary. Boardwalks of Brighton, thank you for showing me that you're a better-accented version of the Jersey shore (and kudos on those adorable flea markets and antique shops). Double-decker bus drivers, cheers for the late-night rides back to my South Kensington flat after festive nights on the town. Harrods, sorry for never buying anything from you; you just weren't in my budget. And dearest Greece and Italy, many thanks for giving this American boy the best spring break of his life. I could write pages and pages about your hospitality, but considering my readers' attention spans, I'll refrain and save my love letter to you for another time.

London, I hear you calling me back. Someday I shall return and revisit your streets, your pubs, and your fashionable haunts. Tell Graham Norton I'd absolutely love a ticket to his show, and be sure to prepare the clotted cream for my scones during our next afternoon tea together.

Cheers,

H.P.M.

20 Years Ago This Month: 'Summertime' and Soapdish

2011-05-04T07:15:00.000-07:00

On May 20, 1991, DJ Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince released "Summertime," which went on to peak at #4 on the Billboard Hot 100 and snag a Grammy for Best Rap Song. Yes children, before he was a Man in Black, before he became an Oscar nominee, and before any of his progeny could whip their hair back and forth, Will Smith was shooting low-budget videos in his hometown of Philly, PA, rhyming about barbecues and rolling through the hood with the top down.

I, at the time, was finishing the fifth grade at New Rochelle Catholic Elementary and dreaming about eating popsicles at summer camp and catching fireflies outside my parents' apartment building back in New York.

Let's get nostalgic with it, shall we?

Then, 11 days later in the same month of that year, Soapdish was released in theaters. I had seen this movie at the Bay Plaza shopping center in the Bronx with my mother. The little film buff in me was starting to develop a taste for large ensemble pieces, especially after becoming infatuated with A Fish Called Wanda, Murder by Death, and Grand Canyon. And you couldn't ask for a better ensemble at the time: the future spokeswoman for Boniva, a future Iron Man, a future Desperate housewife, the future co-host of the The View...and a post-Babysitting Elisabeth Shue:

H.P.M.

The Rising: 2011 Summer Playlist, Vol. 1

2011-05-03T01:53:00.000-07:00

Slip into that swimsuit. Pick up that trashy beach read. And listen up.

Allow me to present my suggested soundtrack for the Summer of '11, twenty tunes you'll want to download ASAP while you lather up some sunscreen and break out the flip-flops. You can thank me later with a daiquiri...

1. "Wet" by Nicole Scherzinger - With lyrics like "Dripping down my neck, soaking wet, sink or swim or you drown" set to a hard bassline, how could this NOT be required poolside listening? (Also try: "Killer Love")

2. "Criminal" by Britney Spears - Arguably the most redeeming track from the dance-heavy Femme Fatale, this mid-tempo breezer is a theme song for anyone looking for a scandalous summer fling. (Also try: "I Wanna Go")

3. "Papi" by Jennifer Lopez - The holy union of J.Lo and RedOne delivers with fierce flair. Previously seen as my Theme Song for May.

4. "Do It In The AM" by Frankmusik feat. Far East Movement - Despite that "Far East Movement" credit, I'm happy to see this British electro-popster hitting the airwaves again

5. "The Edge of Glory" by Lady GaGa - Naturally.

6. "Wonderland" by Natalia Kills - She doesn't believe in fairy tales, but you should believe in this underrated artist:

7. "Don't Turn Out The Lights" by NKOTBSB - For those of you jonsing for the days when it was okay to blare "I Want it That Way" in your college dorm room...and for those of you who bought tickets to the summer tour.

8. "Kiss Me Slowly" by Parachute - A Glee-ready, pop-rock ditty perfect for those prone to puppy love.

9. "Who Says" by Selena Gomez and the Scene - To prep you for Ms. Gomez's big-screen debut (Monte Carlo) this July.

10. "Last Friday Night (TGIF)" by Katy Perry - And you thought "California Gurls" was the definitive summer jam:

11. "Adolescents" by Incubus
12. "Turning Tables" by Adele
13. "Let's Get It Started" by Paris Wells
14. "Call Your Girlfriend (Kaskade Remix)" by Robyn
15. "Unspoken" by Hurts
16. "Don't Wanna Go Home" by Jason Derulo:

17. "Bounce" by Calvin Harris feat. Kelis
18. "I Wrote the Book" by Beth Ditto
19. "Victim of Love" by Cash Cash
20. "Don't Stop" by the Glee Cast

Theme Song of the Month: May

2011-05-02T11:31:00.000-07:00

Forget "I'm Into You."

For some reason this J.Lo jam conjures up images of humid afternoons in New York, blaring 103.5 KTU on the radio while stuck in traffic on the Bronx River Parkway and catching a whiff of barbecue smoke from nearby neighborhood parks.

God bless RedOne for lending his trademark gloss to what I hope will be the next single from this hot 41-year-old Mami.

H.P.M.

Reason #35 Why I'm An Anglophile

2011-05-01T01:56:00.000-07:00

Having read the book earlier this year and having fallen in love with these two characters, I eagerly await this film adaptation that stars two of my favorite actors (Anne Hathaway's British accent notwithstanding). I'm a little peeved at Focus Features for pushing the release date from July 8 to August 19, but so be it. And having just watched the trailer several times in one sitting, a few things: the casting of Patricia Clarkson, I did not see coming, and that One Republic song? Not my first choice, but hey, it's about Ryan Tedder talking a stroll through London, so I guess I can see the correlation.

Royal Friday

2011-04-29T09:26:00.000-07:00

For those of you who didn't bother to get up at the buttcrack of dawn and endure endless commentary, here's the soundbite-lite, abridged version.

As a self-proclaimed Anglophile, I must say that I'm not disappointed to have missed the live feed. Sure, I was only a year old the last time something like this happened, but back then we didn't have streaming updates, DVRs, recap-filled websites, and instant photos.

Royal Friday = done.

H.P.M.

My Gray Garden

2011-04-22T16:04:00.000-07:00

April 21, 2011 is a date to be remembered. It was on this day I made a startling discovery in the bathroom mirror, a moment for the personal record books: my first gray hair.

So this is what happens after 30? Not only does Top 40 radio start to annoy the shit out of you, your hair follicles decide to give up and retire? I'm not even a month past my 31st birthday, and Father Time decides to throw this at me, a reminder that life proverbially goes on. Interesting.

A huge thanks to Kaila and her trusty pair of tweezers for plucking out this little bugger during our drive to the Santa Monica stairs for a little evening cardio session. I'm not panicking over this recent development. Instead, I'm embracing it. Bring on the silver fox jokes, the geezer comments, the no-spring-chicken jabs. My name is Hiko, and I am aging - wonderfully.

Off to Floyd's for my monthly buzzcut,

H.P.M.

15 Years Ago I Learned...

2011-04-21T09:11:00.000-07:00

The year was 1996. Clinton was in office, the Rachel was taking hair salons by storm, and I was enjoying my first summer job working at Playland amusement park while obsessing over the popcorny awesomeness that was Independence Day.

I also found myself playing Alanis Morissette's "You Learn" over and over again, an iconic tune that quickly found its place on the Soundtrack of My Adolescence. Anthemic, cleverly produced, and most importantly, radio-friendly (at the time), the song is simply an exercise in repetition, a list of inspired suggestions meant to teach us that life is one giant classroom and we never stop being students. The video, in which our Canadian heroine causes a car accident, shoots some hoops, gets into a girlfight, and receives a Boston cream pie facial - in different colored track jackets no less - was a fixture on both MTV and VH1 and begs for analysis no matter how many times you watch it.

Let us flashback, shall we?

What I'm Reading: April Edition

2011-04-18T09:42:00.001-07:00

Rarely has a book spoken to me as much as Betsy Lerner's The Forest for the Trees. The 278-paged guide, "an editor's advice to writers," is unlike any other non-fiction/how-to/reference book I've seen. More than just a how-to-become-a-published-author tool for any writer who's ever slacked off, showed off, or struggled with their craft, it truly is a gripping insider's view on the whole publishing industry.

I happened to pick up this copy at an Everything-Must-Go sale at the Sherman Oaks Borders, one of the many that have been dropping like flies all over Los Angeles (don't even get me started on this depressing trend/development). There were several copies on display, and something about the paperback drew me to the shelf. Perhaps it was a subconscious need to find meaning in my current situation, an unspoken desire to understand why, at the ripe old age of 31, I continue to pursue a profession most people can't grasp as a complete, professional job. The glowing endorsement by Entertainment Weekly on the front cover didn't hurt either.

Shortly after my purchase, I dropped Jonathan Franzen's Freedom to start reading it. Yes, Ms. Lerner, I felt compelled to stop halfway through The Greatest Novel of 2010 to enjoy your "revised and updated" words of wisdom for schmoes like me. And "enjoy" is an understatement. Every page thus far (I'm at p.104) has managed to express and perfectly articulate the isolation, insecurity, pride, confusion, and desires writers experience. It's as if the woman has been spying on me ever since I was a 9-year-old loner who started sticking his nose in books and collected five-subject spiral notebooks full of short stories written in a penmanship only a parochial school education could instill. She goes beyond the "write what you know" bullshit; she actually picks apart that cliched piece of advice and somehow transforms it into an epiphany that is both eye-opening and matter-of-fact. And in between sharing personal experiences, she also reveals a few tasty morsels regarding some of the most famous names in literature (you mean Walt Whitman was actually an egotistical prick?) and offers commentary on the reward-obsessed world we live in, one that constantly stresses praise and likability.

There are countless passages I can scarily relate to. Some of which include the following:

Many people think that writers, successful or not, actually do spend their entire lives in pajamas. There is a disbelief in our culture that writing, or the creation of any art, is actually work. That thing about the pajamas is NOT true. I tend to impose a strict boxers-and-T-shirt uniform only on Mondays...and maybe Thursdays. And as for that disbelief, I'm starting to sense those sentiments from friends of mine. When being invited to meet up for drinks at a hotel, a friend texted: "C'mon, you can stay up late. It's not like you have work tomorrow morning! I should be the one worried!" Thanks, friend.

I have found that the impulse to write, to record one's private feelings, often appears at a very early age; with few exceptions most authors started writing in childhood. If as a child you gravitated towards books and kept diaries or made up stories, it speaks to an inherent aptitude for language...The child writer may be intensely verbal or intensely withdrawn. one thing is certain: his urge to write things down is predicated by the need to validate his experience. The child who makes sense of his world, escapes or remakes it through reading and writing, may never find another home as welcoming. See my five-subject spiral notebook reference above. I clearly was (and maybe still am) the textbook definition of a bookworm...or as I like to call it nowadays, a bibliophile.

You will invite as much comment and attention over the long term as the material warrants and the world deigns to bestow. A world...that is desperately vying for our entertainment dollars, which explains why some writers, especially young writers, in their desire to be heard try to make a big noise. And thus we have the reason why I continue to send out email blasts and Facebook updates linking entries to this small blog of mine.

In addition to physical symptons, people who write tend to develop a set of ritualized behaviors with regard to their work. These habits dictate when, where, and under what circumstance they feel able to produce. There are early birds and night owls. Some need a bright cafe to compose. Others must steal away to a secluded spot... My mornings presently consist of waking up, attempting to hit the gym (sometimes successfully), eating breakfast while catching The View, and then heading out to my Office of the Day. I can never work from home. Starbucks (or any other coffeeshop with free wi-fi and easy parking) is my preferred workspace. There's also the atrium-like bridge at the Westside Pavilion mall that features a comfy lounge area usually peppered with laptops and senior citizens in search of a breather from their retail-driven cardio.

Becoming a writer never won anybody any popularity contests. And most writers couldn't win one if they tried. Most have a lumpy writer's body and an uninspired wardrobe and talk too much...often steering conversation to their most recent article or book. Last time I checked, my attempts to burn any calories are just that, my attention to what I've been pulling out of the closet has sadly dwindled, and I am guilty of promoting my movie review in a local paper while catching up with a friend I hadn't seen in weeks (granted, he did ask what I as up to).

If you're a writer (or an artist of any kind actually), I highly recommend picking up a copy and getting sucked into Betsy Lerner's absorbing chapters on what makes us tick - what drives us - and why we ultimately long to be seen and heard.

H.P.M.

A Golden Child

2011-04-15T10:32:00.000-07:00

I am of the last generation of children who can remember what it was like to watch original network television programming on Saturday nights, particularly of the NBC sitcom variety. Before Saturday night became a junkyard of repeats, irrelevant specials, and low-rated reality fillers, it was once a comedic land of milk-and-honey. My earliest memories hark back to the late 80s when The Facts of Life aired first-run episodes, kicking off a two-hour block of sitcoms that came and went: 227, Amen, Gimme a Break, the short-lived Throb (anyone?), Empty Nest, Nurses, Mad About You... These were usually followed by a 10pm drama (Hunter, then Sisters, then The Pretender) which usually heralded my bedtime.

But the grandaddy (or grandmommy) of Saturday night sitcoms, for me and countless others, was - and will always be - The Golden Girls.

Upon re-watching the series from the beginning on DVD - a luxury only unemployment or a freelance career can bestow - I've learned a few things about these Girls. Some nuggets I've noticed after getting through the first five seasons include the following:

1. I've developed an unhealthy craving for dessert after every meal. This is undoubtedly due to the ladies' penchant for cheesecake whenever there's a social issue to address, an in-house conflict to resolve, or a love interest to talk about (basically every other episode). Can't sleep because there's something on your mind? Neither can Blanche. Or Dorothy. Or Rose. So why not go into the kitchen, open the fridge, and grab a knife and fork...Sophia won't be far behind.

2. Watching episode after episode is my own personal stress reliever. Perhaps it has something to do with the soothing, orchestral opening music. Perhaps it is the notion of living in a fabulous house with four liberal-minded women who have nothing but unconditional love for their friends, family, and each other. Perhaps it is the show's superb comedic (and timeless) writing that never ceases to make me giggle. Perhaps it also has something to do with the actual look and tone of the show itself; props to the production design team responsible for all of those pastel colors, floral prints, comfy accommodations, and just-like-Grandma's-house sensibilities.

3. Whenever the Girls sit around the kitchen table Bea Arthur is always seated in the middle, facing the camera. She is never seen in any other chair. While the other ladies switch up their seats in every episode, her Dorothy never fails to be found in that centrally located position. Was it a requirement demanded by the former Maude star? I can just imagine the clause being written into her contract: "Actor's profile must never be filmed during scenes involving the ingesting of any cheesecake; camera is to never catch said actor's side view in kitchen scenes."

4. Although Dorothy's cross-dressing brother, Phil, was frequently mentioned whenever she and Sophia waxed nostalgic about the good old days in Brooklyn, we never met him in person. Out of all the relatives who popped in and visited that Miami house, Phil was a no-show...until later in the series when we learned of his untimely death and finally met him - in a closed casket. Maybe this is what sparked the trend of Sitcom Characters We Never See On Camera (ex: Maris on Frasier, Stanley Walker on Will & Grace).

5. That ingrained exclamation point on the inside of the front door - Was it a goof? Or did the production designer purposely plant that little Easter egg for viewers to pick up on? What. Does. It. Mean? According to eeggs.com, Bea Arthur carved it in there for good luck.

6. If St. Olaf had a Starbucks, what would one order? A venti gaflookanoogen latte?

7. The ladies sure know how to stay active (socially, that is). There hasn't been a charity event, black-tie ball, gallery opening, or theater production in Miami these women haven't participated in. May this be a lesson for all senior citizens (and non-seniors) out there; retirement shouldn't be equated with a life of stagnation and crossing off the days until you're admitted into your very own Shady Pines. As the insightful Nicki Minaj says, "I believe that life is a prize, but to live doesn't mean you're alive."

Off to go find my own Moment for Life,

H.P.M.

Spreading the Love (of Writing)

2011-04-07T09:57:00.000-07:00

"Most girls usually spend their sweet 16 obsessing over the right dress, partying all night with friends, and if Mommy and Daddy are financially stable enough, enjoying a pimped-out new ride they can show off at school the next morning.

Not Saoirse Ronan. The star of the upcoming action-thriller Hanna spent her 16th birthday beating up Eric Bana, jumping out of windows in Berlin, Germany, and then squeezing in a Lady Gaga concert at the end of her hectic day..."

And so begins my first interview feature for Campus Circle. I recently sat down with the stars of the upcoming Hanna, Saorise Ronan and Eric Bana, for a chat. You can read the rest of it here.

Random Thought of the Week #22

2011-03-28T14:40:00.000-07:00

Holy 1987 flashback. It's as if Jem moved to 90210. I can just picture a then-26-year-old Darren Star watching this and scratching his head, thinking: Why, I can turn this into a primetime soap, cast 30-year-olds to play teenagers, and make a crapload of money!

P.S. - I used to watch this cartoon every morning in the third grade.

Japan Quakes

2011-03-11T16:42:00.000-08:00

Needless to say, I was riveted, glued to CNN well past midnight, watching that wave of water invade the northeastern coastline of Japan, specifically the city of Sendai - where my father's family has lived for nearly 30 years - completely in awe of what I was witnessing. For those who have expressed their concerns and sent their best thoughts and prayers, I thank you. As of now, all I know is that communication within Japan is basically non-existent (cell phones don't work). However, my dad has been able to call into the country and contact his brother to get updates. My uncle has yet to know where his son, Hitoshi (my cousin) is. Last they heard, he was driving a delivery truck to the small town of Ishinomaki, where my dad's 80something-year-old uncle resides in a beautiful home by a river (Memories of visiting that house in 1989, 1990, and 2001 have been replaying in my mind). Much of the tsunami was known to have stricken that area as well. Nothing has been heard from him.

I also haven't been able to tear myself away from several first-hand accounts that have been captured on video and posted to a special YouTube channel dedicated to footage of the devastation across the Pacific Ocean. Notice the calm composures:

Some good wine was lost:

And one mother and son quickly escape their home and console a neighbor outside in the street:

What's up Mother Nature?

Sending out nothing but positive vibes,

H.P.M.

And I'm 12-Years Old All Over Again

2011-03-11T15:51:00.000-08:00

Come June 10, I shall let J.J. Abrams remind me how magical and genuinely awesome movies can be:

Random Thought of the Week #21

2011-03-05T11:30:00.000-08:00

In 26 days (not that I'm counting) I will be turning 31.

Yet I have this lurking feeling that my mind or general sensibility hasn't caught up to my physical body. In reality, I'm an adult who has recently entered his 30s, but in the bizarro universe that is Los Angeles, I'm somewhere between the ages of 21 and 25.

I blame popular culture. I blame it with its insistence on remaking/rebooting/reimagining films, television shows, and pop songs, forcing me to revisit my childhood and adolescence with every irresistibly rehashed product it spews out almost every month, and preventing me from actually growing up.

Exhibits A through K:

The CW's attempt to bring back the 90s with a new 90210 and Melrose Place. ABC's reboot of V and Jane Badler's reprise of her role as Diana. Scream 4. J.Lo's sample of "Lambada" in her new dance single "On the Floor." Jay-Z's sample of "Forever Young" in his single "Young Forever." That Total Recall remake. That NKOTBSB tour. TNT's new take on Dallas. The blasphemous cover of Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up" by Ashley Tisdale. The following book titles: Wuthering Bites, Little Vampire Women, Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, and Jane Slayre. The impending Annie redo starring Willow Smith. Any given film adaptation of a Hasbro toy or Milton Bradley board game. Those rumors of a Buffy reboot. That news about a Blade Runner prequel...and sequel. Cher's alleged comeback in Burlesque. Betty White's comeback-that's-not-a-comeback. Nicki Minaj's oh-no-she-didn't sample of Annie Lennox's "No More I Love You's" in "Your Love." The new Nightmare on Elm Street. The new Friday the 13th. The new Prom Night. The new...you get the picture.

Perhaps my rant is a clear enough sign of my actual age. After all, my list of Old Timer Traits continues to grow: Programming CNN as one of my Favorite Channels. Passing up Top 40 for NPR. Driving a hybrid vehicle. Not getting Taylor Swift - at all. Considering a 9am wake-up call "sleeping in." Preferring not to have any Friday night plans. Panicking about my savings account and credit score. Shuddering at the fact that The Goonies recently celebrated a 25th anniversary. Being sickened by the fact that anyone born before today's date in 1990 can purchase a pack of Budweiser...

How did I get here?

Press This Junket

2011-03-03T08:03:00.000-08:00

There's a scene in the 1999 film Notting Hill in which Hugh Grant's character accepts an invitation to a posh hotel where he is to meet Anna Scott (Julia Roberts) at a press junket for her latest movie. When he arrives, however, he finds himself posing as a member of the press - a reporter from Horse & Hound - in order to gain access to the world's biggest celebrity. And shortly after he flirts with his potential love interest he must sit through one-on-one interviews with actors and patiently wait in hallways and lounges with journalists and reporters who sip on cups of coffee, scribble in little notebooks, and have deadlines to meet.

My second week as a renegade writer/blogger/taker-of-any-paying-gig found me in a similar situation. The editors of Bello Mag, who are also the founders of the stylish OhLaLaMag.com, called me up to see if I’d be available to interview Hollywood’s next Robert Pattinson, Alex Pettyfer (I Am Number Four), and his co-star, HSM sweetheart Vanessa Hudgens, from the upcoming Beauty-and-the-Beast-in-high-school flick Beastly. The press junket was to take place at the beautiful SLS Hotel on La Cienega, and I would be put on the list for a roundtable interview with the movie’s two stars and its director. Having just been there two days prior to interview the cast of Josh Radnor’s happythankyoumoreplease for HIH, I gladly accepted the invite for three reasons: 1. I was hoping to create some new opportunities and brush shoulders with other journalists with whom I could establish some connections. 2. It would offer more practice on the kind of e-reportage I’ve been doing for the past two years and 3. Press junket = free meal.

Getting to meet a couple of hot celebrities in the process...sure, it could be considered a bonus.

After attending several events like this, one can't help but pick up on a few things. First, the food ain’t so bad (let’s just get this out of the way now). The fancier the hotel, the tastier the menu. Case in point: The SLS, one of L.A.’s most prestigious (and new) hotels, has become somewhat of a hotspot due to its celeb clientele, gorgeous décor, and fantastic restaurant. And when a movie studio decides to use a hotel as its publicity headquarters for a certain period of time, the deal usually requires using the hotel’s caterer. The lunch provided during the Beastly junket was a smorgasbord of bite-sized paninis (the mini reuben was insanely good), a variety of salads, bottled soft drinks, and a mouth-watering dessert platter that could have been stolen from the set of a competition show on the Food Network. In other words, my stomach was overjoyed.

The variety of journalists who sit at a roundtable interview – usually six to eight people in total – range from veteran reporters with insightful queries to nerdy bloggers (ahem) and teenybopper writers who usually go for the safe and easy questions (“What’s your workout regimen like?” “What do you do to romance a girl?”). While chatting with Malin Ackerman (Watchmen, Couples Retreat) about her experiences on the set of happythankyoumoreplease and the themes of the film, I mentally consulted my What Would Oprah Ask journal and shot her this: “How do you define happiness?” Nobody saw that one coming, let me tell you.

By the way, if you’re wondering about those two other questions from above, Kate Mara (127 Hours, sister of Rooney) prefers an exercise called the Bar Method, and Alex Pettyfer buys his lady friends boxes of chocolates.

And then there's the free stuff the movie studio likes to occasionally shove into the arms of journalists, usually crappy souvenirs and products the film's marketing team has spent months working to produce. On this sunny Thursday in Beverly Hills I was treated to the soundtrack CD, the paperback novel (did I mention it's an adaptation?), a box of Jujyfruits (apparently one of the characters is a big junkie), and both a Wii and Nintendo DS game based on the film. If you have a birthday coming up and you love videogames, please know that I picked up a copy just for you.

For the Beastly junket I shared a room with an eclectic group of individuals. We were one of three roundtables on the sixth floor. Both actors and the director took turns entering each room to face a bombardment of questions from people who either didn’t give a shit about the movie being promoted or were faintly interested in getting soundbites from a pair of twentysomethings who earned paychecks exponentially larger than all of us combined. Since I had been put on this assignment two hours before the scheduled check-in I was the only one in the room who hadn’t seen the film. I didn’t attend any of the press screenings that were held the week before. What could I possibly ask? How could I play along? Could I bluff my way through the entire interview? I quickly racked my brain: it's a high school movie, so why not ask Alex and Vanessa about their own high school experiences and see how they might have applied them to the roles they played?

I had plenty of time to think of other questions because of the 45-minute delay we had to endure (I'm not at liberty to say which rumored-to-be prima donna was the cause of this). Some of my press constituents grew restless as the minutes ticked by. Once in a while a publicist would pop in to apologize for the late start. One middle-aged woman who had been doodling on her press packet got up to get a cup of coffee in the hospitality suite. The 41-year-old moderator who had let it slip that he could recite the lyrics to The Little Mermaid's "Part of Your World" (the complaints/talents of a new father) started spilling some humorous anecdotes which involved his impressive impersonation of Nicolas Cage. The two schmoes next to him swapped business cards and went over their hectic schedules for the rest of the week ("Dude, I've got to transcribe three interviews and go to a screening of that Topher Grace flick I so don't want to go to"). To my right, a young staffer from Tiger Beat quickly went through emails on her smartphone while the blogger sitting next to her did the same. And the Asian chick sitting across from me politely laughed at the moderator's stories while the woman at the far end stared into space and attempted to adjust her bra. Clearly she was of an age that did not suit the tank top she was wearing.

I'm sure Davids Mamet and Ives could find a juicy, character-fueled one-act play hidden within these walls.

Finally we were graced with the presence of Ms. Hudgens and Mr. Pettyfer. Digital recorders slid across the table. Notebooks were flipped open. The first question was asked. It all happened like clockwork.

Unlike some of my counterparts, I didn't have an office I needed to rush back to once it was over. The rest of the day was ripe for the taking, and I didn't want it to slip away. I had errands to run, entries to write, correspondences to keep up. I hope I get to go back to the SLS Hotel. I could sit in that lobby all day and curl up with a book by the firepit. And they have nice disposable hand towels in the bathrooms. (and so what if I pilfered a couple to use at home?)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to start prepping for the next junket with Clive Owen and Catherine Keener, this time at the Four Seasons...

I wonder what they'll serve for dessert.

H.P.M.

DVR KILLED THE WATERCOOLER

2011-03-01T17:10:00.000-08:00

Picture it. New York. 1994.

I walk onto the concrete schoolyard of New Rochelle Catholic Elementary, ready to brave another day of reading, writing, and religion class. But before my peers are shepherded into 8th grade homeroom, I huddle on a bench next to my friends Telisha and Shelly to talk about last night's jaw-dropping episode of Melrose Place. The cliffhanger that is on everyone's lips this chilly morning involves a back-from-the-dead Kimberly Shaw (a pre-Desperate Marcia Cross) silently spying on her ex-fiance, Michael Mancini, while he hooks up with the Vixen of All Vixens, Sydney Andrews. It is a television (and pop culture) moment for the history books - only to be topped by the following episode in which the resurrected doctor pulls off her wig to reveal a giant Frankenscar on her cranium.

Every Tuesday morning was reserved for Melrose recaps and speculations. My classmates and I could not help but regurgitate and obsess over the details of the previous night's episode. Had we been coworkers sharing a confined office space, we would be gathered around that proverbial watercooler, chatting up a storm. Other TV milestones from my childhood and/or adolescence that were heavily discussed immediately after their broadcast included: the accidental shooting of Scott in the second season of Beverly Hills, 90210 (a main cast member from a teen show getting killed off? My fellow sixth-graders were stunned), Bob waking up next to Suzanne Pleshette in the series finale of Newhart (even at the tender age of 10 I knew that was one brilliant closer), Ellen's big "coming out" show in 1997, Jackie getting beaten up by her boyfriend, Fisher, on Roseanne, that whole snake-rat speech delivered by Susan Hawk on the final episode of the very first Survivor...

But a funny thing happened during the past 15 years or so since those innocent days on the blacktop. Cable networks started to produce original content. DVDs invaded video stores. Lives became busier. And a little thing called TiVo made it possible to record our favorite shows without using those cumbersome VHS tapes. In short, everything was suddenly digital.

With this evolution came what I like to call The Decline of the Watercooler Chats. Less frequent now are those moments when friends or coworkers can gather together - face-to-face - the morning after a juicy night's worth of scripted drama. Why? Simply because everything is now saved on the DVR at home. One can go for weeks without watching several episodes of Mad Men or The Vampire Diaries because they've been accumulating on that little metal box perched below (or above) your HDTV. "I can just catch up on everything over the weekend," you say. And when your friend wants to talk about the shenanigans from that phenomenal installment of Top Chef, you can't: "I'm three episodes behind on my DVR. Don't spoil anything for me!"

Fortunately, I had yet to own my first TiVo when, on Alias, Francie was assassinated – by her doppelganger (!); I had watched that OMG-worthy episode with Kathleen the night it originally aired. There was no waiting period. We immediately turned to each other and screamed at this ingenious plot twist, one of the many that was typical for the ABC spy serial (this particular moment comes in at 6:40):

It seems like we didn't have this 'problem' when we learned to record shows on the ol' VCR back in the 80s and 90s. VHS cassettes typically allowed up to six hours of recorded footage on each tape, so there was more of an urgency to watch your show as soon as possible and reuse it for next week's programs. Now? DVRs can typically hold up to 80 hours of televised content. Every minute of every sitcom, every inane reality show, every morning chatfest can build up in those memory chips, and you can take comfort in knowing that you have it all stored in there for future viewing. But the question is: When will you?

With the exception of daily blogs dedicated to the dissection of popular shows, there seems to be less and less instant reaction and feedback discussed, especially in person, because less and less people are watching them "live," or during the actual given timeslot. As a result, less and less people can gather together to talk about their favorite television moments. Everyone seems to be on their own viewing schedule thanks to the blessed invention of the DVR. I even cancelled my TV Guide subscription years ago because of the accommodating features and benefits the DVR has offered; it knows when my shows are on - when to avoid any repeats - saving them all for me. That, and I never approved of TV Guide's revamped format. Give me my paperback-sized, black-and-white booklet any day.

There are also a few extremists out there (you know who you are), television viewers who will opt to miss an entire season of a hot new show all of their friends are glued to - either because they're too late jumping on the bandwagon and don't have the time to catch up to present storylines, or they tell themselves that they can always add the DVDs to their Netflix queue when the season is finally released and pull a marathon over a weekend. I am currently doing this with the third season of Dexter and went through something similar three years ago when I watched the free pilot of Damages on iTunes and immediately purchased the rest of the stellar first season.

Perhaps we should all pay our respects to the watercooler as we charge forward into this new era. Not only does it have to face the competition of bottled water and the rising trend of reusable aluminum canteens, this modern-day campfire of sorts has to face neglect as less people hover around it to chat about fictitious characters and the colorful lives they lead.

Let us all raise our small paper cups...

H.P.M.