Seth Kupchick's Blog: Bet on the Beaten, page 2

the Replacements and Big Star

Both Big Star and The Replacements have a similar rock n' roll trajectory, with a reputation that's beyond what they accomplished in their time. The lead singer of The Replacements, Paul Westerberg, was enamored of Alex Chilton, a lead singer of Big Star, so that their biographies would intersect was no surprise but Westerberg couldn't have planned it that way. Both bands were born to self destruct around the five year mark, and to never reach the potential they held for their fans, their failure as integral to their story as their success, and in both circumstances the failure made for a greater success than a number one record, the title of Big Star's first album, and what one member called a curse.

I just found a live Replacements record from '86 that came out recently, and it has really taken me back especially since I heard a bootleg of them from the mid-eighties doing Gimme Shelter by the Stones, and hearing from my friend about how they were the greatest live band because they could be the best or the worst depending on the night, and were down home enough to party at the bars where the older friends of my friend hung out. I was told they were the best rock band in the world and liked the Replacements enough to listen to a mixed tape, but my heart was in the Sixties. Listening to this live record makes me wish I was at the show in Hoboken. One of the fascinating things about the Replacements as a band is that their singer/songwriter Paul Westerberg, went on a John Lennon like journey from punk rocker to poet in a matter of years. If he didn't make this transition The Replacements would be thought of as a great band like The Dead Milkmen, but without the layer of genius Westerberg gave them. And like Lennon you could watch his songwriting emerge almost overnight, so much so it overwhelmed the band, stuck in their punk roots, and the combination made for great rock n' roll. Let it Be captures this tension the best but Tim is also great, though already giving into the Westerberg side of the group, and the last hurrah. Still, it's rare to watch a spirited youth become a majestic poet and always brings out the lover of Rimbaud in me.

Big Star had a different set up. Alex Chilton had recorded his chart topping hit The Letter at 17 (?) years old in the Box Tops, and enough other tracks to be a legend. Big Star was designed to be a super group, I think, with only one star, and made a defining record their first time out, that went nowhere on the charts. Chris Bell, the other songwriter, left the group for transsexual experimentation and religion, leaving Chilton and the other founding members to carry on, like Westerberg only did for one album, that produced a couple of classic tunes but is generally thought of as a waste of time. Big Star's two LP's without Bell are exceptionally brilliant, and highlight not only his absence but Chilton's ability to lead, and cementing his reputation in rock n' roll lore, but neither band received the acclaim they deserved in their life span, so that the death had to happen for them to survive.

I would've never discovered Big Star if it wasn't for my friend's love of the Replacements that lead him to Sister/Lover, the darkest of the Big Star trilogy, and what some consider the finest. We were attracted to that one because Westerberg hero worshiped Chilton, not Bell, and that was considered his masterwork, which it was. But Bell's life and sound were part of the Big Star mystique in the same way that Syd Barrett was to Pink Floyd, the leader who went mad, and the oeuvre was an homage to the missing. Everyone was present in the Replacements, and one of the things that makes them so compelling at least to me was how they defined Minneapolis, and its freedom. I only knew the city through the Vikings, Super Bowl losers, and the Mary Tyler Moore Show, a favorite. The Replacements became a place in the Country that was real to me, unlike L.A. where everything felt like a stage set.

My friend's favorite song by Big Star was Holocaust, because it was the most depressing, and it must've expressed all of the angst within him that lead him to a mod/punk sensibility that found its ultimate expression in the 'Mats, the band born to lose not to run, but he liked Bruce "The Boss" Springsteen too. I was reared on Dylan and Neil Young so was prepared for the gloomy cathedral piano sound of Holocaust. It became clear to me that my friend was finding himself through Paul Westerberg the same way I had through Dylan, both from Minnesota, and I envied that he was able to do it through a contemporary, because I had to go back in time to watch an evolution of songwriting that made me happy to be alive.

the last season of Newhart/Seinfeld

Dear Homeroom - The Bob Newhart show was and will be forever a favorite, but tonight at 51 years old I'm seeing it with new eyes, which is remarkable. The Decades network is binging on season 5, the final season, and watching this every morning and for the last decade, have become a connoisseur. Until tonight, I critiqued the 5th season for being a bummer because it showed Bob and Emily quarreling more than the other seasons, and were at the early stages of divorce, in my opinion.

I'm seeing them differently tonight, and thankfully so. The show starts to reference itself in the final season, in a way that the Mary Tyler Moore Show never could. Newhart dealt with the mentally insane, and Bob becomes a patient, Howard a live in loafer relying on Emily's cooking, and Emily an almost single woman objectifying her relationship so much that it has become abstract to the point of clarity. Everyone becomes an allusion to themselves, the actor turning into the artist, and it's strange to watch.

In the bigger picture of Television History, IMHO the final season of the Bob Newhart Show all but predicted Seinfeld, the show about nothingness, and couldn't exist without it.

It's a Family Affair

"Family Affair" is far too personal to me to ever write about objectively. I started watching it when I was five or six, and was one of several shows from the sixties that must've come on in reruns, and the others were "The Addams Family," "Bewitched," "Gilligan's Island," and "I Dream of Jeannie," but there were assuredly more. Of all these shows, "Family Affair" was the most magical to me, and it must've been the kaleidoscopic colors of the opening montage, and the bright green carpet in the plush New York City apartment. But more than that the show was a New York City fairy tale, so divorced from the realities of the sixties, that Uncle Bill, French, Sissy, and the twins, Buffy and Jody, may as well have been from another land before the Kennedy's were assassinated.

And yet that land wasn't so far away, and the show admirably deals with the changing trends in America more than Gilligan's Island or Bewitched, that were more metaphorical. Uncle Bill is an example of soft power, an engineer who visits other Countries, and is fascinated by foreign cultures. French, the gentleman's gentleman, could be the standout character on the show, a butler who dresses to the nines, and acts as a sort of cultural ambassador as much as a man servant. It's French's job to instill the philosophical underpinnings of civilization to Uncle Bill's foray into distant lands in the name of spreading democracy and the American way of life, something Bill does almost unconsciously it was so ingrained in men of his generation coming back from the War. But that is secondary to the real thrust of the show, and that is Uncle Bill taking on the children of his brother, who dies and is never seen.

I should stop here and say that sitcoms about widowed dads, or uncles taking in their nephews and/or nieces, was a real trend in sixties television, and a foreshadowing of the divorce generation that was to soon mushroom. "My Three Sons," "Gidget," and "Bachelor Father," come to mind, but none may have exhibited the real tension more than Family Affair. In the first episode, Uncle Bill is having the events of his night read to him by Mr. French, while taking a bubble bath, when the doorbell rings and Uncle Bill's dour sister in law (?) informs him that she wants Bill to take Buffy, and then the next two come along. At first, Bill and French are aghast at the idea, since it goes against the very bachelor philosophy that the two have built their life around, best friends who firmly accept the servant/master role in the relationship but with aplomb. Nor am I meaning to insinuate that Bill and French are gay, because Uncle Bill is a womanizer, but even on his dates French always plays a role, by serving drinks and dinner, and the women are always deeply intrigued by him, so much so one of them makes him an advertising celebrity for an episode!

The children represent a major challenge to Bill and Mr. French who are both forced to adopt new roles: French in his bowler goes from a gentleman's gentleman, or the brains behind the brains, to a nanny. And Uncle Bill, over time, loses his playboy lifestyle, gallivanting across the globe, seducing Spanish women, and comes to realize that the family he rebuked come to mean the world to him and he'd be lost without them. I don't think in "My Three Sons," "Gidget," or "Bachelor Father," there is this conflict, because the single dads are primarily nine to five clean cut businessmen, but Uncle Bill is cut from a different cloth. Yes, he has those deeply American post war qualities, but he's a globe trotter and there is something of a James Bond suave about him. Uncle Bill is a man who existentially chose a bachelor life, and didn't want it ruined by tragedy, a family man with greatness bestowed upon him. Gidget's father was the kind of professor all the girls had a crush on, but in an Oedipal way he was in a relationship with Gidget that made the show trippy to watch, especially since Gidget's hilarious brother in law is a Psych Major at UCLA. And Fred MacMurray on "My Three Sons" has his own Mr. French in Uncle Charlie, who is more like a gentleman's slob, a Navy cook in an apron "peelin' patataes." The only thing MacMurray ever says is, "that's great, Rob," or "that's great, Ernie," then puffs on his pipe in his cozy house.

Uncle Bill is actually tortured in his role as father, and the success of the show is that he comes through on his promise to the kids, and takes great care of them. There are several episodes, where Buffy, Jody, Sissy, and French, all wonder if Uncle Bill is going to leave them for a woman he met in Paris or Rome, but he never does. He also has a calm way of listening to his children that remind me of my grandpa, and must be a way men of that generation listened and talked. He doesn't say much, and tries to remain objective, no matter what anyone is saying. There is nothing hysterical about French or Uncle Bill. They were made to take on heavy responsibilities, and though they'd have preferred not to, they do so valiantly.

The kids from Terre Haute, Indiana, are a whole other conversation, save to say the writers somehow made the show feel like Terre Haute with an erudite English butler named French, in an Upper East Side penthouse apartment. The kids are as wholesome as a PB&J and a tall glass of milk. and innocently relate to the changing social mood of the sixties, while being sheltered in domestic bliss. Buffy and Jody are the standouts and growing up watching it I was told that Anissa Jones, the actress who played Buffy, was a drug addict and died at 16 years old, giving a weird twist to watching her innocent childhood. That said, her and Jody with the wild Kennedyesque shock of red hair are an amazing team, and two of the best twins in TV history. There is so much love between this orphaned brother and sister, that they make you want to cry on almost every episode. They're so tiny and yet Jody plays a kind of husband protector to Buffy, who takes comfort in her doll, Mrs. Beasley, who is really a member of the cast. There are several episodes where Uncle Bill seeks the help of child psychologists to try to figure out why his orphaned twins resort to make believe friends, because Jody does this at times too, and treats Mrs. Beasley with the utmost respect. There is even an episode where Mrs. Beasley is stitched up by a doll surgeon, and the Indian businessmen negotiating with Uncle Bill can't believe it!

All of that said, Family Affair also has a very B show quality to it, in spite of the excellent cast, but this only adds to its charm. It most notably comes out when the show conjures up "New Yorkers" and they are almost invariably Irish, Puerto Rican, or a drunken combination of the two. The show slips into crazy stereotypes that paint Uncle Bills a "rich guy" and the stupid slobs whose daughters or sons are picking on Jody or Buffy, as "stupid immigrants" and it's uncomfortable to watch. The hippie generation does enter the show through the teenage daughter, Sissy, who takes a backseat to the rest in the cast, but is pretty groovy herself, and actually becomes the embodiment of a kind of free spirit in the late sixties, without going crazy hippie. She does have a boyfriend in a band with shaggy hair, that Bill doesn't like too much, but everyone is polite. Uncle Bill is ultimately sympathetic to the young man and when he realizes Sissy wants to marry a gas station attendant out of a girlhood fantasy, he puts his foot down. (sorry feminists, but that's how Sissy was portrayed).

I've pondered Sissy and Uncle Bill's relationship, because he is a handsome man enamored of the opposite sex. And Sissy is 100% girl power in the worst and best ways. I wouldn't say they are as close as Gidget and her father, but there is something subtle between them. Sissy has to walk the world of French and Bill while also being loyal to the twins, since they are brother and sister, and she has a hard time of it. She may be the most misunderstood character on the show, since of all the sympathy goes to Buffy and Jody, the mind goes to French, and the wounded child in us all is looking for Uncle Bill, to take us in and quietly listen to us, knowing he'll do what's best for our interests in the end, like America promised to do for the world at the end of the War.

Sissy is a grown up and a child at the same time. She's the mother to the twins and French is a lovable curio, but she's a daughter to Uncle Bill, and something of a fill in lover, as much as it pains me to write this. She knows his uncle likes women, and there is even an episode where one of Sissy's friends gets a crush on Uncle Bill and thinks they are engaged after a night out on the town! Sissy never quite plays mother to Uncle Bill like Gidget did to her father but there is an ease they have with each other. Many of Uncle Bill's theories on the opposite sex come out through Sissy since the twins are really too young to get into serious trouble, and she is the source of much of the tension, but not so much through her mind. In fact, Sissy is kind of a traditional girl swept up into Manhattan, and is more boy crazy than anything, and yet that feels free. Sissy is as irrational as her bouffant hair and what man doesn't love that.

Amazon

First, I hated it, then I accepted it, then I rejected it, then I amended it, then I hoped for it, then I wrote for it, then I died for it, then I cried for it, then I fled from it, then I bled from it, then I relied on it, then I denied it. This from a Seattleite published through Amazon (the middle man), but angry after learning tonight that the only customers allowed to write a review must spend over $50.00 a year at the company store, and be a Prime subscriber, both requirements I don't meet.

I'm piggy banking on Bezos's fortune, while he is piggy backing on mine, and it's a sick relationship. Unfortunately, the amazon platform lets me reach more readers than self publishing by myself, and I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, because the corporate terrain has been set. I'm a slave to Amazon, as much as it is to me, its cultural ambassador, who no one will remember. I'd like to dismantle the machine, axe the middle man, but my people have made a living as merchants for centuries and this would be hypocrisy. Long live the middle man, long live capitalism, long live my lonely slog, out on the sea, blinded by the snow, and not cocaine. Long live the inklings of the revolution, that will eat itself in sorrow.

The death of the rime of the Ancient Mariner

I'm listening to the unofficial end of the Mariners season this year and while I realize that they've done better than predicted at the outset of the season this could be the most disappointing one in the last five or six years. In July, when they started spinning their wheels, it was seen as a near mathematical impossibility that they wouldn't at least be the second wild card, and yet fate has dealt these ancient Mariners a cruel blow, because the Oakland A's sped into the race out of nowhere and are now going to win the AL West, and/or be the wild card, trading places with the injury riddled but talented Astros. Trying to wrap your head around this season is hard, and this is coming from someone who has listened to 2/3 of the games on the radio driving pizzas, but not with the passion for the Ancient Mariners that I exhibited in past seasons, due to burnout on the city and the team. I've written at length in previous blogs about the three act structure of a baseball season, but that might be a good way to approach this:

1st act = Conceit = April and May

2nd act = Conflict = June, July, and August

3rd act = Resolution = September and October

The first act of the Mariner season is probably one of the best in their history, but that's a laugh line, because the Mariners are one the most unsuccessful baseball franchises ever. I listened to most of these games and they stood out for how many one run victories the team managed to pull off, and this was rare for them, but other than that it was hard to fathom how they were so good. The hitting wasn't great, but the starting rotation was much better than anyone thought it would be, and it may have been one of those instances where three or four mediocre journeymen pitchers were playing over their head all at the same time, but it was fun to hear. It should also be said that Jerry DiPito's great trade with the Diamondbacks to obtain Jean Segura at shortstop, and Mitch Haniger in the outfield, was also paying off, not to mention Edwin Diaz's remarkable season as the closer, and James Paxton's no hitter against the Blue Jays. But not even these pieces to the puzzle explained how the Mariners were threatening to be one of the best two or three teams in baseball.

The second act of the Mariners season started off where the first act left off, leaving me to wonder if my pessimism was inbred at this point after watching years of a losing organization. To make it better, Robinson Cano was on probation for taking muscle enhancing drugs, and they still were able to play way above their heads, making me and everyone think there was a chemistry to the team impossible to measure, but ever present. Then came the heart of the second act, July, the middle of the season symbolized by the all star game, the midsummer classic, and the Ancient Mariners fell apart. (I should say that as I write this the Ancient Mariner is getting mad at me and they have come back from a 9-1 drubbing by the Astros, and have made it a 9-7 ball game in the bottom of the 6th, but I'm going to carry on). Rick Rizzs just said they've gone 2-9 in winning a series, and of course that is the measure for being a successful baseball team, and I don't see this changing so much moving forward, save a little improvement here and there. The artistic key to three act structure is that without a strong second act even the loftiest of conceits means nothing, and the resolution is another year without making the playoffs.

It's safe to say that the minute anyone in Seattle starts paying attention to the M's they fold under the pressure like a shy child, and this is their karma.

Danny, Dave, and Moore

"Danny, Dave, and Moore" is the name of a local sports radio show that I'm addicted to for the first couple of hours of my shift as a pizza man, and have been meaning to write about for awhile. I thought of doing a sweeping review but thought it would be best to break down the characters who make up the hour or hour and a half that they do everyday but loop for three hours. I wouldn't mind looping the first hour or two of my shift every night, making them the luckiest men in the world!

Danny O'Neill - Danny is the lead voice of the show and the most important member of the team. He's a Gen X'er with a very good self deprecating sense of humor who isn't afraid to admit he takes anti-depressants, and has a dark side. He also admitted to watching "The Hills" the other day so in some ways he beats back the traditional stereotypes of a jock, especially because he doesn't seem sexist. The most annoying thing about Danny O'Neill is he lets out these belly laughs sometimes that sound fake, or if that's too harsh, a way to keep listeners tuned in to the show, and have heard him criticized for it in tweets that the listeners send in. That said, I sense that he really loves doing the show but the same is true of Dave Wyman, Jim Moore, and even Jessica MacIntyre, the producer, so the laughs may only be half fake. I'm sure Danny is generally amused by the things his co-hosts say, and he is an entertainer.

As for his sports analysis, it's hard to rate this. Like all local sports show hosts he roots for the home team and sometimes this gets in the way of him giving good analysis. He's almost always bullish on the Mariners, Seahawks, Huskies, or anyone else, and this can be frustrating, but the show isn't based so much on probing insight, and for that they bring on John Clayton, know as the "Professor." Truthfully, he's awful at sports analysis too but can break down salaries and statistics like it's nobody's business, and adds gravitas. "The Professor" also has his own show, but it's hard to imagine anyone listening to it for too long since he conveys next to no emotion, that he tries to compensate for with a wry sense of humor that often misses the mark.

Dave Wyman - Dave is an ex All American from Stanford who was a forgettable Seahawk in the Chuck Knox years and also a Denver Bronco, and Lords it over everyone's head. I've tried to understand Wyman as an athlete, but am not sure what round he was drafted in or whether or not he exceeded expectations, but that would be hard to imagine. Truthfully, he's like most players in the NFL who have an average career and end up in the announcer's booth or selling used cars, but in this day and age also end up wealthy from a million dollar contract even benchwarmers now get.

Wyman has a good sense of humor and given that his alma mater was Stanford is smarter than the average ex-jock, but there is a woozy quality to him. Some of this is his demeanor, because it's an easy guess that he was one of those guys in the locker room that everyone liked getting a beer with, and sharing a joke. He seems like a genuinely nice guy, and often those kind of people come off as a little punch drunk, or in the clouds, but the difference is that Wyman knocked heads in the NFL for nearly a decade, and the bizarre historical timing of him being on the show. The concussion issue has become an albatross around the NFL's neck during his stint on Danny, Dave, and Moore, and being an ex Seahawk/Bronco it's hard not to listen to a show about concussions and think of poor Dave sitting there, self reflecting. In general, he defends the NFL and the hits a football player has to endure as part of the game and if that were to change it wouldn't be football anymore, and I agree with him on this. But sometimes I wonder if I'm not listening to a classic example of a woozy ex linebacker whose brain is intact enough in his early fifties, but will be less so a decade down the line. No one addresses this on the show, or pokes fun, but it's always there for me as a listener.

Dave is a natural storyteller like a guy going fishing and since he was in the league he has a lot of great stories to share, and I never tire of these though they've read texts on the air that berate him for it. I think "Danny, Dave, and Moore" would be far less of a show without these stories or anecdotes that are always honest and light. I'm not sure they give a gravitas to the on air proceedings like the Professor's mathematical breakdowns, but they do give an almost blue collar insight into the life of professional football player, without the tawdriness usually required of a "tell all" memoir. He's a good spirit.

Jim Moore - Jim Moore is the oldest of the three and a wisecracking sports columnist from the Blank Generation, who likes to talk about gambling a lot. He's the butt of most of Dave's jokes, but sets himself up for it, and indeed that's Jim Moore's charm. He knows he's a loud mouth and revels in his uneducated analysis that I find more honest and charming than either Danny's or Dave's, since they are squarely in the hometown's corner, right or wrong. Jim is also rooting for the home town teams, save the Cougs (Washington State), but he's likely to call a spade a spade and rat out a player when he's stinking it up on the field. He brings none of Danny's Gen X acumen with pop culture to the table, and none of Dave's woozy nice guy jock creds, but is a strangely valuable asset by being the ass of the show. At first, I hated Jim Moore and didn't think he knew what he was talking about, but have come to appreciate his sense of humor and contrarian nature.

The Disaster Artist/The Room

I saw the Disaster Artist before The Room, but it should've been the other way around, since The Room was the inspiration for the Disaster Artist. James Franco was good as Tommy Wizeau, but the Disaster Artist is an afterthought compared to the original, nor am I sure what it was trying to show, that the original movie didn't. At the least, Franco turned me and I'm sure thousands of others onto this obscure movie and that is a gift, but unlike Ed Wood, the Disaster Artist does not stand apart from the cult classic it inspired. Johnny Depp as Ed Wood gives us a glimpse into a misunderstood artist, that "Plan 9 from Outer Space" may have obscured, but Tommy's weirdness is out front in "The Room," and Franco's movie does little to illuminate it. He gets at the weirdness of Tommy Wizeau and clearly this Eastern European (?) freak took over Franco's soul, but that's his karmic consequence, not the audience's. If I had seen The Room before the Disaster Artist the order would've been all wrong, and I'd say Franco's movie was the equivalent of a "special feature" on a DVD, that shed some light on Franco's "friendship" with the other main lead but not enough except for hardcore fans to ponder. There are obvious homosexual qualities in Tommy masked by his machismo but the movie doesn't examine these as much as present them, and then leave it up to the viewer to care, but in light of his many other quirks they seem like nothing more than another aberration in an eccentric personality. As for the art of the room, this isn't examined, either, but how could one know what Tommy thought about getting involved in such a disjointed love triangle. I believe that Franco's soul has been stolen by Tommy Wizeau and the all holds barred vision of free art for 6 million dollars that he represents, but that's not the vision of most, and Franco has paid a price in the #MeToo movement. The Disaster Artist is art, but The Room is Anti Art, and in the end the latter almost always wins, unless your thing is seascapes, and mountain views, or girls twirling on a dance floor. Franco was a brave man to introduce to Tommy, but I doubt either understands the implications.

Suuuuprise, suuuuprise

I'm "suuuuuprised suuuuuprised" at how much I like Gomer Pyle USMC as an adult because it wasn't my favorite as a kid and really there is no reason this show should work at all except for the unbelievable relationship between private Gomer Pyle and Sergeant Carter. I know that Jim Nabors gets the majority of credit for the comic gold this show spun out week after week, but it wouldn't have been possible without Frank Sutton as Sargent Carter, and really both deserve a joint star on Hollywood Blvd. as one of America's great comedy teams, and I mean that in earnest. I'm relatively certain they never performed publicly as a comic team, nor did they have their own show, so there is the sense that they are simply two actors who had great chemistry, but Gomer Pyle USMC is really nothing more than Sutton and Nabors duking it out on every episode, and to me they are easily the equivalent of Laurel and Hardy, the Three Stooges, or any other comic team you can think up.

From a critical perspective, there is no reason that Gomer Pyle USMC should've succeeded as well as it did and in that way is one of the great anomalies in sitcom history. The show takes place on an army barracks but after binging on it this weekend can say for certain that there are no other major characters or even minor ones in the cast aside from Pyle and Carter, but that's not to say that there aren't other characters. Occasionally, Gomer or Sgt. Carter will have a date in town, or meet some guy off the base, but these are always actors/actresses who drift out of the script as soon as they enter, and never go so far as to dominate the episode they are in, so that they are merely script devices to move Gomer and Carter along into their inevitable rub against each other, where Sgt. Carter gets irritated with Gomer while he feels nothing but love for Carter, and yet Carter even feels love for Gomer but more as a wayward child, with Carter plays the angry parent. It's a really strange balancing act, actually, and the Freudian conceit is so subtle that it feels weird to put it into words but there it is. There are a couple of regulars on the base but it's amazing how little time or energy they get in the script.

I really can't think of another TV sitcom that devoted so much time to only two characters and succeeded so that there must be one out there, but it's a blank. As a kid, I took this as one of the shows failings and remember that it bugged me some even though I watched it all the time. I wasn't a sitcom scholar yet but the simplistic redundancy of every episode tired me some, or made me think of Gomer Pyle as less than, though the thought wasn't formulated in my head. Sure, "Three's Company" was a one trick pony too but it had Jack, Janet, and Chrissy, not to mention the Ropers, and later Mr. Furley, and this constitutes a cast. In fact, every show I liked had a cast of kooks supporting the two to three main characters, but Gomer did away with this structure. It's as if the writers, creators, or someone stripped the script down so much that it's almost the equivalent to the Ramones stripping down a pop song to a 1:30 seconds, or the speed of sound. The show is so basic that it really is the most punk rock show I can imagine from the goofy innocence of Gomer to the angry yet lovable Sgt. Carter to the military backdrop of the show made for a real punk rock explosion.

The other thing about Gomer Pyle that stands out and may make it better years down the line is that the show took place between 1964-1969 at the heart of the Vietnam Conflict, and yet this is never alluded to on the show. It's obvious that the show was a PR propaganda attack by the American Government through the TV networks to present a positive lighthearted image of the military. They took Gomer, one of the least controversial characters ever from Mayberry, and that's saying something since Mayberry was the most fictitious town in TV history with no crime, fishing any day of the week, and a matronly woman making a pie at home before a good night's sleep by the fire. The creators stuck Gomer in the marines where he was at once completely out of place and yet completely fit in because he was everything the simple minded innocent American was supposed to be. And Sgt. Carter was your typical tough ass drill sergeant but with a heart of gold, and together they made the military almost look like a good natured place for a young man to make his life. This was all good and fine and if it was the '50's when the popular mood was unified than the idea of a peace time army a la "Sgt. Bilko" (Phil Silvers) may have made sense, or at least reflected the national mood. Gomer was at odds with the peace movement and also trying to reflect a simpler time but such was not the case for the Country so in some ways the show must've divided the Nation right off the bat between the anti Vietnam protesters and those who believed the government would never lie to them and the war was just.

It's a minor point but one of the elements that defines the show to me and makes it again more lovable later in my life than as a kid is the opening. There is a great military themed song and an uncreative propagandaesque shot of the marines marching with the flag waving high, so there was no ambiguity about where the show stood. Then, an announcer's voice comes on to say, "Gomer Pyle USMC" in case there was anyone out there in America who couldn't read the big block letters, "Gomer Pyle USMC," or couldn't see the marines marching. It felt so old and dated to me even as a kid that watching it was insane, but in a dissonant way.

Most importantly Gomer Pyle USMC made me want to play guitar because of an episode where Gomer meets a hippie trio like Peter, Paul, & Mary, and they sing "Blowin' in the Wind." I thought, "I could do that," and started strumming an E chord.

Franken "Fran"

I don't usually weigh in on moral debates, but the Franken disclosure disgusts me because I've followed him my whole life as a young fan of SNL. But more importantly listened to him on Air America when that was all the rage in 2004 right before W.'s reelection, that was a death knell for America. Franken was never a savior, but he wasn't the worst guy, I guess. Him and Rachel Maddow were similar in that they'd pick topics that were easy and, like civil rights, and that everyone could agree on. For example, I don't think Franken once tackled "free trade" and if he did it wasn't the thrust of the show, that had more to do with his participation in the U.S.O., where I guess he groped this girl, and stuck his tongue down her throat. The nauseating part of the "Franken" show was how he was essentially using Air America as a way to prop his political career, and his yet unannounced run for the Senate, though the whole show felt like a run for public office, making it one of the more miluquetoast. He'd do comedy bits, which were fine, but he'd also play up a patriotic side that had to do with his marriage to Fran, his high school sweetheart from Minnesota, and whose name rang up everything good about the bread basket of America. "Fran." He'd also talk about his kids a lot, and how his daughter wanted to be a schoolteacher, but the whole point of these exposes was to show himself as a legitimate God fearing family man, who'd really chosen the straight and narrow, even though he was a funny guy. Of course, this belied his decade long (?) stint on SNL that belied this, but that aside Franken sounded fake, and made listening to him unbearable. Norm Ornstein was the best thing about the Franken show, but he was a seasoned observer of Congress, with an objective/middle of the road bend, that brought the show into focus.

I never believed Franken's "Fran" schtick. It always felt contrived to me. I never saw a photo of Fran, and furthermore Franken was one of the biggest megalomaniacs of all time, and nothing in him reeked of a family man, though I'm sure he is, but clearly not the type he was trying to portray. He always seemed like a guy running for office, and from a documentary I saw about Air America he wasn't liked much by his fellow hosts who made it clear the network was a Franken power grab. As for his sex offense, it's disgusting and acting like he didn't know a woman didn't want his tongue down her throat is insane. I can understand if he put his arm around her and she moved away, but that's a far step from the behavior I've heard described, and the subsequent photo of him cupping her breasts. The whole thing sounds like a power grab, and he is an ambitious man, unlike his now deceased partner Tom Davis who died of alcoholism, and who I had to hear Franken go on a pious speech against on "Fresh Air" no doubt to vaunt his political career. Just watch, it'll come out he's a souse too, but that's the way the liberal elite rolls.

"Who could turn the world on with a smile?" Not Rhoda, but her sister Brenda could.

I've been binging on "Rhoda" ever since September and would've been done by now except for a blasted trip to Europe that interrupted it all (lol!). While that's not entirely true it can't be denied that I read an essay online about season 3 and was excited to see it when I got back to Seattle. I was a fan of Rhoda as a kid when I'd watch it in my kitchen after school in my best time of being a latch key kid, along with "The Bob Newhart Show" and "Mary Tyler Moore." Of course, those were the two best in the MTM stable, but "Rhoda" wasn't far behind, though I was too young to ever think of writing an essay about any of these shows. It's hard to know where to begin on a show like "Rhoda" that has its own mechanics but also was so personal that I have a hard time divorcing its aesthetic from my mind, but in an attempt to link my body to my mind I'm going to do my best to sum up my feelings towards this landmark show both personally and critically.

Critically, "Rhoda" is one of those shows that kind of went under the radar once it slipped from the public imagination never to be heard from again. I must've seen it in its first run of reruns while it still may have been on TV, but don't remember watching it during prime time as much as after school when it was one of those hip cool shows telling me about the times but more importantly artistically reflecting adulthood in those times. I didn't mean to compare the MTM shows to the Norman Lear ones ("All in the Family," "Good Times," etc.) but one of the big differences was that the Norman Lear ones were overtly political so they were "with it" in terms of their hip liberal viewpoint but the characters were mouthpieces for these viewpoints rather than subtle creations living within them, and this was a big difference. And don't get me wrong, oh dear reader, the characters were great on those shows too, but they didn't reflect for me a vision of adulthood I saw myself morphing into, replete with an era I was living in. How archetypal that those were my latch key kid years.

"Rhoda" will never be considered a first tier show like "Mary Tyler Moore," or "The Bob Newhart Show," even though I realize that "The Bob Newhart Show" started off as second tier, but outdid expectations and in its own way was as good as "Mary" or a damn close second place, though it was second place. At the time, in my critical mind, I thought that "Mary Tyler Moore" was a consistently better show, but that I liked "Bob Newhart" more, but that would be by very little, since all of these shows were a keyhole to a life I had yet to lead, a person I had yet to become. "Rhoda" is a second tier show, for sure, but it's actually much better than I thought it would be on a second viewing, but why much better, and why were my expectations so low? I loved Brenda (Julie Kavner, who I just learned went on to be the voice of Marge Simpson) as a kid, and Nancy Walker as Rhoda's doting mother, not to mention Carlton the Doorman, a truly memorable and creative minor character, but after this my mind went blank on the show. Instead, it became one of those rather personal memories I had of the TV being more like a friend than an entertainment box.

So, how to understand "Rhoda" critically? It starts with Rhoda Morganstern, Mary Tyler Moore's hall of fame sidekick, and a woman's lib accidental archetype, moving back to New York to jump start her life after a stint in Minneapolis. I don't remember if the "Mary Tyler Moore" show explains why Rhoda felt she had to make this switch but I think it had to do with her meeting Joe Gerard, a love interest that all but came to define "Rhoda" even if he wasn't a great character, and this alone makes the trajectory interesting and weird right off the bat. I mean Rhoda was having a good life in Minneapolis; she had good friends, a groovy job, a groovier apartment, and seemed to be gaining confidence, and then she ups and moves back to a city she had sworn off because her family drove her crazy, and then she ends up living with her family again, albeit in her own apartment, and married to a guy who runs a demolition business. Her sister becomes her, and her mother becomes something she never had to deal with in Minneapolis, so her trajectory is all about Joe. It should be said that the first season of Rhoda was a big national hit and that the episode of her and Joe getting married was the most watched TV show of all time, and will be what "Rhoda" is forever remembered for, in the great scope of TV time. Why America wanted to see Rhoda get married so badly is a question worthy of the Gods, but she was a TV icon and I can only guess that audience wanted to see who this very special woman who came to define a Ms. magazine aesthetic would marry, since one of the many tenets of feminism was that the marriage created a slave owning relationship, and neither she nor Mary ever had regular guys.

This brings us to Joe, the lynchpin of the show, and a weak character. I'm not sure a successful sitcom has ever had such a minor and forgettable character be so significant but that's how the writers/creators of Rhoda made it though there is the sense that they didn't mean to do this but caught up in the wedding, and who wouldn't? I mean NO show save the last episode of "Seinfeld," or something remarkable like this, would ever have an episode be viewed by so many people (my grandparents must've even watched it) and from that moment on Rhoda and Joe would be inseparable. To be fair, they may have been inseparable (insufferable?) even if the show didn't have the one off episode of all time, and that is the striking flaw in Rhoda. Her and Joe really have no chemistry, and it's hard to know who to blame this on, but it gets at the heart of why "Rhoda" is a second tier show that nevertheless made it to the fabled 100 episode mark needed (?) for reruns.

Joe brings nothing good out in Rhoda Morganstern and this couldn't have been the goal but with or without him this is not even remotely the same character that inhabited Mary's apartment in Minneapolis, with the snow falling out the window. There, she and Mary played a contemporary version of the WASP/Jewish comedy team to sexy perfection, and will go down as one of the greatest pairs in TV history. In their set up, Mary was all bright and shiny, while Rhoda was more street smart and wise cracking, but Mary didn't come off as a heavy. She just came off as a perky good spirited slightly funny counterpart to Rhoda's darker biting humor, that also had its fill of good spirits, since these were two young women enjoying their life in the city. If anything, Phyllis comes off as the bitchy "heavy" between Mary and Rhoda, another character so good she got her own spin off that I also watched around this time but not as good as "Rhoda" (a third tier show) that I also saw as a latch key kid making myself a can of Minestrone soup or a bagel and cream cheese.

The beginning of "Rhoda" may have said it all when it shows her happily walking in Times Square like Mary taking over Minneapolis in her opening montage, but when Rhoda throws her hat up in the air in a moment of triumph/exhilaration/freedom in homage to Mary it doesn't take off and falls right on the sidewalk. It's played for laughs, of course, and is kind of funny with a really silly "La la la la la la la" song playing behind her that became the theme and has dated badly, if indeed it ever was good, and one of those strikes against Rhoda. I'm not sure what the writers intended from this show, but right off the bat she's failing in New York, the big apple, and to make this clear the first season has a voice over of Rhoda talking about her life, and how New York has one more chance to appreciate her brilliance, but she's stumbling right off the bat, unable to get her hat in the air, nor does the show ever change direction with her. Rhoda literally fails at everything she tries, but her biggest failure, and what the show will be remembered for aside from the comic genius of Brenda, a great character, and that "wedding" episode that all of America watched, was her and Joe's subsequent divorce. Again, I don't know what the writers were thinking and there is a James Brooks special called "Remembering Rhoda" on disc 2 that I didn't watch and really wish I did for my own entertainment not to mention this essay, but I doubt they wed Joe and Rhoda to ultimately divorce them in season 3.

I could probably write an essay or two on Joe and Rhoda but I'm going to try to turn it into a paragraph or two, and get on with this scintillating essay (lol). Valerie Harper and David Groh just had no chemistry as actors, so the casting was terrible. Given this, and that there was so much expectation from Joe and Rhoda due to their fairytale TV wedding seen by more viewers than any show in history, there was a lot of pressure for them to have chemistry. Most of the problem, I guess, is in David Groh's performance, an actor who just wan't up for the task. He's not bad, but he's not good, and he had to be good to not be bad, so he was bad. As for Valerie Harper, she was a much better actress than David Groh but had all but been recast in "Rhoda" as an entirely different character than what we had known in "Mary Tyler Moore" the show Rhoda Morganstern as a character will be remembered for, because whatever good exists in Rhoda isn't became of her character becoming more fascinating in and of herself. I think the writers wanted to make Joe and Rhoda a modern day marriage that had its blemishes and flaws. Add to this, the divorce era was coming into view, and the "relationship" films of Woody Allen, Paul Mazursky, etc., were all the rage, so the writers of "Rhoda" tried to make a TV version of a tragic comic relationship movie. In the process, Rhoda was diminished from a fun loving single to a very worried woman in a marriage not working, and a career that can't get off the ground.

It's ironic that Rhoda Morganstern won't be remembered as the character from her signature show that ran for nearly five years but the TV Gods have a funny way of putting us mortals in our place. Rhoda was made the straight woman like Mary was on "Mary Tyler Moore" but without any of Mary's charm and is basically a neurotic mess with nothing going right in her life, nor does she find this funny. Not only is she getting divorced from a man she moved back to New York to be with, but her up and coming window dressing business disappears after season 2 (?) when she decides to freelance, but clearly is not very successful. In fact, one of the biggest gigs she gets as a freelancer turns out to be a sting operation where a cop thinks she's a prostitute. As for her dating life post Joe, it's a mess, but worse than that Rhoda takes a kind of haughty view towards the entire swingin' '70's, and becomes an old maid by the time she's 30 who sees herself as superior to all of the pick up lines and come on's, while her younger sister Brenda is more open to the times she's living in. Rhoda doesn't exactly judge Brenda for her choice in men, but she makes it clear that she's a hot number who has risen above the sleazy singles scene played for laughs all around her, most notably through a neighbor (Gary, played by Ron Silver, in a lightly good turn), and Johnny Venture, a Vegas guy they tried playing for big laughs, but there were none there.

The miracle of "Rhoda" is that it works in spite of taking all of the charm, life, love, and meaning out of its main character, but how? Well, you'd have to start with Julie Kavner's star turn as Brenda Morganstern, an absolutely great character that has nearly as much screen time as Rhoda, and who all but dominates the show. It should be said that Valerie Harper and Julie Kavner had the kind of chemistry we needed from Rhoda and Joe, so that Valerie Harper was a good counterpoint to Brenda, and in this her seriousness worked. We're also allowed as viewers to watch Rhoda age with us and go down perhaps the dark slippery side of the '70's, that most of us care to forget when we romanticize the past. "Rhoda" in some ways simulated the movies of the era searching for reality in a sad screwed up world, with lovely little Rhoda Morganstern on the seas of isolation. It doesn't hurt that the writers of "Rhoda" obviously loved the show very much and there are so many comic turns and twists that like a reviewer said, "It's best episodes are as good as "Mary Tyler Moore,"" and I'd agree with that. The show is "comfy" and a fascinating look into what really was going on in the '70's between family and a single life, so this may be what the writers wanted, though it would be hard to imagine they wanted Rhoda to be a bitch, but this is how she comes off most of the time, even if one with an ethical backbone, and a love of family. She's not the worst bitch of all time but she's a bummer, and this was why we'll never think of Rhoda as having her own show, and why she'll forever be Mary's "Hardy," or Chong's "Cheech."