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Remember how your parents used to say "You should have gone before we left!" whenever you complained about needing to use the bathroom on a long drive as kids? That's going to be more true than ever, according to this report:
Are State Rest Stops Becoming Extinct?
Thanks to ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) singingpatient for passing along the link via Facebook. And it shames me (but doesn't terribly surprise me) to learn that my own home state, Louisiana, is leading the charge on this short-sighted bit of public policy, having closed most of its stops already. Yes, you'll save a few million bucks in the short term...but end up paying far more in lives lost in the long term, due to the increase in auto accidents you'll cause by depriving exhausted drivers of a place to rest. And that doesn't even count the extra money for state troopers, firefighters, paramedics and the vehicles and equipment they use to respond to crashes. (This is an especial danger to long-haul truckers, which is why their national trade group is lobbying states against the idea.)
And there's still more extra cost to clean up the pee-filled bottles, soiled diapers and other defecatory trash from roadsides as people get desperate. Gas stations and restaurants can't be placed everywhere along the roads to take up the slack, nor should they be..nor can they all operate 24/7. Talk about being penny-wise and pound-foolish...as in thousands of pounds of poop.
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One of the finest actors on screens both large and small is gone. Karl Malden passed away today at the ripe old age of 97, of "natural causes" in his sleep at his Los Angeles home. He had his most famous TV role alongside Michael Douglas in the Quinn Martin-produced detective series The Streets of San Francisco, also for ABC, and also played real-life World War II Gen. Omar Bradley in the film Patton. Yahoo! News has posted an obituary for Malden here.
Just short of making his century mark, Malden leaves behind a 75-year legacy of more than 50 films, and starring, supporting or guest roles in almost as many TV shows, a stint heading up the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences and one of its Oscar® awards for Best Supporting Actor. He also worked for over two decades as the face and voice of American Express Travelers' Cheques in TV ads, famously intoning "Don't leave home without them." Probably my favorite role of Karl's was as a NASA administrator recruiting Sean Connery's disillusioned scientist for help saving Earth from impending doom in the film Meteor. This was a cheesy 1979 skiffy flick that presaged more recent films such as Armageddon and Deep Impact, and co-starred Martin Landau as a US general, the late Henry Fonda as the President and Brian Keith as a Soviet scientist whose lines were all in Russian, with the also late Natalie Wood as his translator..
But it wasn't all cheese; Karl also had roles in films like A Streetcar Named Desire and On the Waterfront, as well as the aforementioned Patton, and worked opposite stars of the caliber of Connery, George C. Scott, Marlon Brando and Vivien Leigh. Thanks to kradical for letting me know; and thank you, Mr. Malden, for proving yet again that immigrants are the very lifeblood of American success.
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| Since blueeyedtigress has posted a delightful music video to celebrate today being Canada's equivalent of our own Independence Day (which is this Saturday), I thought I'd toss in my own favorite Canadian anthem (by The Arrogant Worms) as a tribute to the surprisingly large number of people on my friends list who were born and/or reside in the nation with which we share the world's longest undefended border. (You do need a passport to get across now where you didn't before, but nobody's talking about building a wall or armed defenses along it like they are about the other border down south.) Since I can never remember all the folks on my massive list who are Canucks, howzabout y'all give me a shout here? And a very happy national day to the lot of you. (Personally, I don't think you need to apologize for Céline Dion at all, but then we all know my musical taste is hopelessly sentimental and skewed towards the ladies.) |
And for the rest of you: Who are your favorite Canadians, famous or not? My list would have to include Ms. Dion, plus Dan Ackroyd and all the folks from SCTV, William Shatner, the ladies of Urban Tapestry, the late Peter Jennings, Gordon Lightfoot and Stan Rogers, plus the thankfully-still-with-us Anne Murray and the Worms, two or three of the Kids in the Hall, all the men of Great Big Sea and Alanis Morrisette, at the very least.
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Yesterday Minnesota's state Supreme Court finally put paid to the ridiculously long legal battle over last November's US Senate election there, ruling unanimously (!!) that Democrat comedian/activist Al Franken was entitled to be declared the victor over Republican incumbent Norm Coleman and to receive a certificate of election from his state's GOP governor Tim Pawlenty. Assuming that Pawlenty does the sensible thing and issues said certificate—which is by no means a given, knowing how notoriously partisan Pawlenty is—Franken could be sworn in and seated as soon as Congress returns from its holiday-weekend break. The full story is here.
This would finally give the Democrats the long-sought filibuster/veto-proof 60-seat majority in the upper house that they would have had by now for six months had Coleman not decided to contest Franken's razor-thin victory following the recount. Theoretically, he could have still carried the fight all the way to the US Supreme Court even after yesterday's decision...but he at least finally came to his senses and conceded, in a statement issued outside his home in St. Paul. And if Pawlenty wants to preserve his place on the short list of candidates for his beleaguered party's Presidential nomination in three years' time (a list that just got even shorter with the sex scandals engulfing John Ensign and Mark Sanford), he'll go ahead and issue the piece of paper Franken needs; his Democrat lieutenant governor has promised to sign it as soon as it reaches his desk.
This protracted litigation has never been nearly as much about insuring the probity of the election as it has been about keeping that one last seat out of Democratic hands as long as legally possible. In keeping the good citizens of the Gopher State from having their Constitutionally mandated complement of two Senators for so long, the GOP have only added to their own embarrassment in what they had to know from the jump was probably a futile quest. Now they simply look childish and obstructive; but conversely, as of now Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid has just lost his last excuse for not pushing his party's full platform good and hard, with this plus a friendly President in the White House and an even more commanding majority in the House. He also has no excuse for not holding Barack Obama's feet to the proverbial fire on honoring all of his campaign promises to loyal Democrats who worked like their party's namesake mule behind a plow for his election.
And all of this will be moot if Pawlenty decides to dig in his heels, refuse Franken his certificate and ask the state attorney general to appeal the decision to SCOTUS, where he might hope for a ruling in Coleman's favor from a high court larded with conservatives (5-4) by the last three Republican Presidents (unless Obama nominee Sonia Sotomayor gets confirmed and seated in time, which I don't consider likely).
But let's hope for the best and pray, if you believe. Here's to the swearing in of Senator Franken sometime next week...and congratulations to the former Saturday Night Live star, best-selling author and Air America radio host. And just in time to celebrate our country's biggest national holiday (no, not Super Bowl Sunday!) and the freedom and democracy we so cherish.
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While my local paper doesn't seem to have the story online for some reason, it reports in its dead-tree edition today that an old childhood friend of mine—and of former kids all over the U.S. of A.—is coming to town...when she had been thought as dead as lots of folks wish disco was. Lamb Chop, the insufferably cute sock-puppet "child" of the late puppeteer Shari Lewis, has a new life courtesy of Lewis' human daughter and longtime assistant/producer Mallory. Although Lewis mére died 11 years ago, Mallory (who was born with her dad's surname of Tarcher, but changed it to honor Shari's memory) has proven just as talented as her illustrious parent in bringing her wooly "sister" to life...although, as the paper reports, Mal's ungulate sibling tends to be a tad "brattier" to her than she was to Mom, as sisters are wont to be.
The lady and puppet are appearing in Atlanta and Gainesville, GA as part of a month-long event sponsored by local arts councils and the Atlanta Convention & Visitors' Bureau (the ones responsible for the "Every Day Is An Opening Day" ad campaign) called Puppets Take Atlanta...and Beyond. The event features performances, workshops, exhibits (including the recently installed Jim Henson exhibit at the Center for Puppetry Arts, not too far from where I live) and other attractions from today until month's end. If you live or happen to be in the area, check it out (and let me know if you do, should you desire company). I plan to go say hi to an old fabric friend or two myself sometime soon; I suspect I will be far from the only adult there...and the parents of young children among them will probably bring them. too.
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As we note the passing of fully half the calendar year of 2009 (if you use the Gregorian calendar, that is), I also note that bercilakslady, scruffycritter and marykaykare all share a birthday today...and that I clean forgot to acknowledge the birthday of jhitchin, which was last Friday (June 26th).
Apologies, most sincere and profuse, to Jeff first of all, with wishes for many happy returns and hopes that his birthday was everything he had hoped for and more...and to Joe, Mary Kay and the Lady, the same for today (minus apologies) in like measure. To Joe, who has been a real-world friend since long before LJ elbowed its way into my life (as has his lovely wife, not_the_pope), thanks for all your kindnesses to me and mine. To MK, we miss you and that rocket-scientist husband of yours both down here in Hotlanta and hope to see you down here in six months for GAFilk...or ideally, sometime sooner. And to BL, thanks likewise to you for your kindness and best wishes for you as your life changes drastically in at least a couple of ways.
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Thanks to the fact that this year US Independence Day falls on a Saturday, we are getting a paid holiday Friday where I work. In addition, since furloughs are still in effect (not that they've been sufficient to stave off layoffs, which was partly the original idea; the owners have still ended up giving at least three people lower down on the totem pole their pink slips since this latest round of four-day weeks began), I have an unpaid holiday Monday as well.
Thing is, the Songbird is still in Kenya for the time being (she is visiting the US for training, but not until the following weekend at the earliest), most of the events involving friends of mine are happening hundreds of miles away, and I haven't had word of any special doings around here for fannish types this weekend. So I'm looking for suggestions to keep me from simply spending July 3-6 in a semi-somnolent stupor. Ideas? Events? Anyone? Bueller??
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With thanks to Lewis from the Atlanta Science Fiction Society for passing along the link: Sam Rockwell, last seen by genre fans as Zaphod Beeblebrox in the feature-film version of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, stars in a new film very reminiscent in premise of Silent Running, due out next weekend: Moon. The lone staff member of a near-future lunar mining installation finds something that convinces him that either he's gone off the deep end after three years of solitude at the edge of outer space...or he's at the center of a truly bizarre occurrence. Looks good, but of course the proof is in the watching.
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A double shocker in the news today: two pop-culture icons, one from the 1970s and one from the decade after, are both taken from us on the same day. Michael Jackson, the troubled, gifted scion of Motown's first family of music, died at his Holmby Hills mansion in California of a heart attack at 50; and Farrah Fawcett, whose portrayal of pulchritudinous private investigator Jill Monroe in the iconic ABC drama Charlie's Angels set the stage for a surprisingly brilliant and far more serious later acting career, succumbed to cancer at 62 after a well-publicized, years-long struggle against the disease. CNN reports on Jackson's death here, and on Fawcett's here.
Much has been made of the Gloved One's eccentric behavior, bizarre physical metamorphosis and questionable associations with young boys in his later years; I prefer to remember the phenomenally talented child who first burst onto the scene with his four brothers as the Jackson Five, singing "A-B-C" and "I'll Be There" at the top of his amazing, prepubescent voice...and then solidified his hold on the title "King of Pop" as a young man with his legendary "moonwalk" dance and songs like "Billie Jean," "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" and "Thriller." And similarly, though Farrah's famous blonde-maned, toothy-smiled good looks suffered tremendously as a result of her illness, I choose to recall her as she once was, in her famous bikini-poster pose and her jiggling about handling assignments for Charles Townsend Investigations alongside co-stars Jaclyn Smith, the late David Doyle and Kate Jackson, before she pulled a Suzanne Somers and got herself booted from the show with excessive demands for increased compensation. And still later, we got to watch as the cheesecakey ingenue morphed into a bona fide actress winning nominations for Emmys, Golden Globes and other awards in plays like Extremities and films like The Burning Bed. She even had the courage and strength to turn her illness into a means to give hope and inspiration to others likewise suffering, by documenting her treatment for a two-hour NBC special.
With the passing of Ed McMahon earlier this week, some have reminded me of the old truism that bad things come in threes; I dearly hope we can expect no more than three such talents' deaths for a while now. My heart, thoughts and prayers are with both Michael's and Farrah's families, friends, coworkers and fans (particularly Michael's brothers and sister Janet, and Farrah's ex-husband Lee Majors and longtime boyfriend Ryan O'Neal) in this most difficult hour. One may also hope that both of their souls—especially Michael's—have finally found peace wherever they may now reside.
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The man known primarily as TV's most famous sidekick—but who turned out to be a star in his own right—is gone. Ed McMahon, U.S. Marine colonel and decorated veteran of both World War II and the Korean conflict; devoted husband, father and grandfather; television announcer, host and pitchman; and tireless philanthropist, died today at a Los Angeles, CA hospital at age 86. NPR reports on his death here and CNN carries memories of him from his friends in showbiz here.
This is particularly shocking and saddening for me personally, as I remember Ed for something much more important than his three-decade-long run sitting beside the late Johnny Carson on NBC's Tonight Show, his stints hosting Star Search and TV's Bloopers and Practical Jokes (the latter with former Philly next-door neighbor Dick Clark) or his ads for American Family Publishers and other products and services. Since 1967, four years after my birth, Ed has been announcer and co-host of the Muscular Dystrophy Association's annual Labor Day Telethon, hosted by Jerry Lewis; literally almost as long as the national telethon has existed, Ed has been a part of it. (The telethon was New York-only from 1952-1966.)
Imagining the Telethon (now just ten weeks away) without Ed's jovial, avuncular presence is almost as unthinkable as imagining it without Jerry...although that, too, is a reality we will one day face. MDA has been my favorite charity since barely after I got out of short pants, and Ed's booming voice, famous laugh and endless good humor on the annual 21.5-hour show were a big part of the reason why. He logged 41 consecutive appearances—more than anyone but the Big Kahuna himself—and worked like a dog behind the scenes as well. His advent on the telethon, as recounted in his 1988 memoir For Laughing Out Loud, was actually a bit of an accident:
McMahon remembers that his first appearance on the Telethon was as a celebrity guest asking viewers for donations. But while he was making his pitch, Lewis temporarily left the stage, leaving McMahon standing there alone when his speech was done. So, “being a professional, I introduced the next performer at the proper time. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, here they are, let’s give a big round of applause…’ As I finished I looked into the wings and saw Jerry standing there, arms folded, watching me. ‘Go ahead,’ he told me. ‘You’re doing a great job.’”
A professional, indeed...and a great and generous man with a heart to match his six-foot-plus size. My heart, thoughts and prayers are with his widow Pam, his five surviving children (one died of cancer in 1995), and all the rest of his family, colleagues, friends and fans. He leaves one hell of a humongous pair of shoes to fill...in more senses than one.
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Discovery Networks' Science Channel kicked off a whole week of space-oriented programming yesterday, called Space Week. The official opener was last night with the premiere of a series called Exodus Earth, in which a hip-looking Brit scientist searches for boltholes we might find elsewhere in the solar system if our motherworld becomes uninhabitable. But the unofficial liftoff actually happened yesterday afternoon, with a marathon of the five-episode documentary Mars Rising. Narrated by William Shatner, the series takes a comprehensive look at precisely what it will take to get humans to the Red Planet, what efforts are under way now to make the trip doable...and the many and serious dangers the first team to go will face—some of them before even getting on the road. Also aired last night was Horizon: The Hawking Paradox, which examines the controversial proposal made by stellar physics' most famous name since the late Carl Sagan, Stephen Hawking, decades ago about what happens—or doesn't—inside a black hole.
Many of these shows are bound to be repeated, and still others (including more eps of Exodus Earth) are coming as the week goes on; check your listings or the website to see when. It's probably the best thrill all year for fans of the wild black yonder.
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Can't go to this weekend's 19th iteration of the annual floating Northeast Filk Convention, Concertino in Worcester, MA. Friends who are there have already started posting.
Who else can't go? Even if you are there, join in with some party food or drink and a filksong of your choice. I'll start things off with a round of authentic Callahanian God's Blessings (made with Bailey's, of course, and strong Kenyan coffee gifted me by the Songbird) and a rousing rendition of Frank Hayes' "Like A Lamb to the Slaughter."
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kshandra and hsifyppah both had birthdays yesterday, but as I was offline all day being an utter lethargic slug, I missed posting about them. Belated wishes for many more years of being with us to the both o' yez, and I hope you had wonderful birthdays.
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My Sony VAIO laptop, which I have now owned for approximately 1.5 years, has served me quite admirably in most respects...save for one nagging little glitch it's had since I got it. When typing in a text field for any longer than about a dozen characters, its cursor suddenly jumps backward from the word I'm currently entering into a word halfway back down the line, or a line or two upward, turning already typed text into typos. This slows down my typing rather annoyingly and keeps me from entering long sentences or paragraphs as quickly as I do elsewhere.
Anyone know what might cause this? And how it might be stopped? Up to now I've just learned to live with it, but it seems to me this ought to be fixable somehow or other.
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If you grew up in these United States during the last five decades or so, you probably remember spending Saturday mornings the same way I did as a kid: at home in front of the living-room or bedroom TV set, with a bowl of overly-sugared cereal in milk and perhaps a sibling or two beside you, watching what the then only three or four channels on broadcast TV had on offer in the way of children's programming. From 7 AM onward, we had a solid five hours of cartoons, the occasional live-action show, educational interstitials like Schoolhouse Rock and In the News, and endless commercials for toys, games and breakfast foods aimed at our age group. The fun usually ended around lunchtime when the teenagers became the target audience via ABC's American Bandstand or the syndicated and far funkier Soul Train.
All this is mostly gone now, along with weekday kids' shows, a victim of changing times, aging demographics, the explosion of cable and satellite channels and networks and advertisers finally realizing that adults spend way more money than children do. Of the Big Three, only ABC still attempts a kids' block this time of the week, chiefly as a venue for programs produced by their new owners, The Walt Disney Company. Otherwise, programming for the short-pants-and-pinafore set has largely been relegated to PBS and cable channels such as Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network.
Which is really a pity, as we of a certain age know today's TV kiddie fare is more often than not far inferior to what we got to watch growing up. The current generation may see some of the old shows on cable, but even if they have parents who can clue them in, finding them on the crowded, 24-hour schedule can be a challenge...not to mention making them stay up past bedtime in some cases. (Yeah, I know, that was one of the big pleasures of childhood, too, but as adults—especially parents—we're responsible for making sure today's kids get the rest they need.) Having the shows you liked all in one block on one day of the week made it vastly easier on us.
So, if you could resurrect this grand old tradition and put on the ideal Saturday-morning lineup, what shows would you include? Bullwinkle and Rocky is pretty much a given, as is Jonny Quest (the original, not the lame-ass 1990s "Real Adventures" version). I'd also vote for the old Hanna-Barbera stable of super-heroes the late Alex Toth helped design: Space Ghost, the Herculoids, the Galaxy Trio, Dino Boy and Mightor. The animated Star Trek should also be in there, even if they couldn't afford to have Chekov or Alex Courage's original theme music. And what would Saturday morning be without ol' Bugs, Daffy, the Road Runner and the rest of the Warner Bros. gang? Nominate your candidates here. Also, what were your favorite commercials running that time of day? I always liked the Ideal toy ads for games like Hungry, Hungry Hippos and Wham-O toys like Slip 'N' Slide, plus the McDonald's "McDonaldLand" spots featuring Ronald, Hamburglar and the (originally Evil) Grimace. The Krofft brothers, Hal Sutherland and Lou Scheimer, Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera shouldn't have lived in vain.
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Today is the 65th anniversary of the Normandy invasion of World War II, then code-named Operation Overlord and now popularly known as D-Day. It was—and hopefully will remain—the single largest one-day amphibious invasion in the war-torn history of the human race. technoshaman has a posting on his grandfather's part in the landing with his usual eloquence that goes far beyond anything I could say.
Ceremonies are being held all over, here and in Europe, at cemeteries and historic spots to mark the solemn occasion, with the fewer every year still remaining who took part given a place of honor. Our President is on the Continent paying tribute, and newspapers and magazines are filled with columns by pundits on the day's significance and essays by some of the survivors recalling what it was like and the friends and comrades-in-arms they lost.
Today, take a moment to remember...and if you know someone who went, thank them.
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Shocking news has come from Bangkok, Thailand, where actor David Carradine was found dead in his hotel room of hanging at 72. He was in the city to film a new movie entitled Stretch. Police believe his death to be a suicide, though he was not known publicly to be suffering from depression or other mental ailment. An obituary can be found here.
Best known for his iconic role as Shaolin monk Kwai-Chang Caine, which he played for three seasons in the 1970s ABC TV series Kung Fu, Carradine came from a stage and film thespian dynasty that began with his late father John and continued with him and his brothers Keith and Robert. down to his niece Ever. He also made something of a comeback a few years ago, when filmmaker Quentin Tarantino cast him as the titular villain in his two-film opus Kill Bill. Carradine made more than 100 pictures in his lifetime, but never got much more than four Golden Globe nominations for his work...which is a scandal to the jaybirds, as far as Your Humble Correspondent is concerned.
My heart, thoughts and prayers are with his entire family, his friends, co-workers and fans in this most difficult hour. If I knew the Chinese words for "thank you and goodbye," I would most certainly be using them now.
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