My Life, Made Possible By Pop Culture

Who even knew this show was still on!? Well, apparently the good folks at On Demand did because they thought it was smart to buy the season from NBC for all of the diehards who have better things to do on a Thursday night than sit home and wait for this to pop on… you know, all five of us.

I personally love stand-up comedy. Always have, always will. I have never laughed so hard tears have started streaming out of my eyes more than when catching a Robin Williams or Chris Rock special on HBO or Comedy Central. Last Comic Standing then should have been a goldmine for me– a chance to learn about up and coming comedians who I’d want to check out at the Laugh Factory or UCB or whereever. And at times, it was: it brought me Kathleen Madigan, Alonzo Bodden, Chris Porter, and Michele Balan. I was willing to overlook the few (ahem, Doug Benson) who clearly had moderate success but were still put forth past the semi-final rounds because I was convinced the return would be great. But sadly, the show buried some of its greatest talent just as the network buried the show in the middle of the summer with few promos. Last week was the first round of semi-finals on this season (which is actually only (?) the sixth), and it showed great promise (Jeff Dye, Ron G, Erin Jackson and Andi Smith)… but then Bill Bellamy announced who actually made it through, and to quote NPH, it was “a sausage fest” in there. Not one woman made it through. Now, I’m not saying they should pass a woman through if she isn’t as funny as the men she is competing with; affirmative action doesn’t work when an audience who has to be entertained is involved. However, even if every other one deserves to get the boot, it was only because Shazia Mizra blew them all out of the water. But she didn’t make it. Neither did Erin or Andi, and though I admit I need to hear a bit more from Andi (hard to pass a judgment on three minutes, especially when the show… trims some comedians’ sets), Erin was certainly funnier than Paul Foot, a stringy haired Mr. Bean, and God’s Pottery, who we’ve seen three times, and thus far they’ve performed the same one song about virginity over and over. My jaw actually dropped as an audible “Aw, hell naw!” spilled out of my lips.

Tonight we had a few more funny women (the stoned Mary Mack, the banking on stereotypes Esther Ku, and Iliza Shlesinger, who, if editing is to be believed, got the hardest laughs of the whole group) and some only okay guys (Dan Cummins, who is the Oliver Stone of stand-up, putting the emphasis on the exact word he finds to be the “funny point” of the joke, lest you miss it; Sean Cullen, who did like twenty minutes (or two) of “What Happens In Vegas,” chanting and then sang about porn (he actually has a decent voice and maybe should go for America’s Got Talent instead; and Stone & Stone, another duo who resued the same jokes from multiple episodes past and who I never personally found funny). There was a much smaller percentage of women who even made it to these semi-final rounds than men, so I guess it’s just basic math that fewer would get to take the next step, but to put it bluntly, it still sucks. I mean, really, the Lurch-looking dude with the giant cello? Really? At least Iliza made it or one of us would have had to cut a bitch (Bellamy)!

I admit Marcus is a genius for his impressions, and I’m glad to see him step outside the box and do some “regular” material, as well. He also looks like a less douchebaggy Dane Cook, so that doesn’t hurt. While I would normally boycott LCS based on principle, let’s face it, TV is slim pickins these days, and as long as there’s some eye candy for me, I’m pretty much a guaranteed pair of eyes. NBC, you’ve been warned: assuming you’re planning to fix the votes anyway, fix them in Marcus’ favor or lose me much sooner into the season than the pitiful ratings can stand.

If you’re like me and you prefer an entertainment news wire over an actual one, you have your finger on the pulse (and your bookmarks set to) websites like Perez Hilton, Entertainment Weekly Online, and perhaps most notably No Control. These are sites that post religiously, pulling news and gossip from all facets of entertainment and a myriad of sources onto one central page and reprinting it for your convenience. No Control happens to be the best of the bunch (IMHO) and not just because they link to me They are simply the best for finding gems of articles like the in-depth exposé on New York’s first Reality Television School. Yes, it’s real. It’s a school for wannabe reality show contestants where they learn the ins and outs– what to do and what not to do– in a casting session in order to get selected for the show– any one of the shows and all of the shows.

I intended to write a lengthier “response” piece, but I am literally left speechless after reading the craziness in that article. The whole thing sounds like a prank for yet another reality show! But sadly no, Reality Television School is where our culture has gone these days: it’s acting school but for the less ambitious. And doesn’t that one statement alone speak volumes for us as a society?

OMG, you guys! Okay, so though I may have never officially committed my feelings about Rachael Ray to print in the past, it has never been a secret how little I care for her. Her loud “Italian” mouth, wild hand gestures, and abrasive laugh all scream “I’m drunk” a little more than I enjoy my talk show hosts to. Plus, I just don’t find her cute. I’m sorry; I don’t. She’s not some spunky, petite, little firecracker in the kitchen; she’s just plain annoying. And she’s one of Oprah’s protégés, which, let’s face it, makes me like her even less.

Needless to say, when I saw her pop up on The Next Food Network Star last year, not only was I shocked that she agreed to allow these “wannabes” onto her “precious” program (I attributed her ultimate commitment to the fact that she was, in fact, drunk when her assistant or manager or producer or whoever got her to sign the paperwork), but I was also bummed that this would be an episode out of which I could half-tune. But this season, oh this season! Working in Video On Demand, one of the perks, I guess you could say, is that content is often delivered to us prior to it airing linearly. We process it and prep it for pitch out to the cable companies and affiliates, and while its start date is more often than not after the first linear airing, it often sits in our library for weeks prior. Every now and then I sneak an early peek. Ssh, don’t tell anyone

This week (it airs Sunday night; set your TiVos!) on The Next Food Network Star is once again Rachael Ray week, and immediately I groaned inwardly at the thought. However, the surprise twist was that not only would each contestant have to create a fun “kid friendly” meal to prepare in front of her live studio audience– and in only a four minute segment!– but that they would each be working with a Girl Scout in order to do so. The challenge was one part cooking, one part playing to the audience, one part engaging the kid and Rachael, which is no short order! While some contestants admitted they were overwhelmed by the lights, cameras, and audience members, one said she was intimidated by Rachael herself, and to that I have one piece of advice: hide the knives and the wine! A few contestants really excelled in this challenge, using their honest, open personalities to make everyone feel involved, as well, but of course the best moments came with the contestants (or in this case one in particular, Kelsey) who stepped on Rachael’s toes. And that’s when I sat straight up in my chair and removed my finger from the fast forward button.

Kelsey is one of the youngest chefs in this competition and also one of the smallest. She is tiny and blonde and looks like she belongs more in at a pep rally or sorority house than commanding a kitchen, so one of the criticisms given to her in weeks past has been that she really has to step up her authoritativeness to let everyone know she’s in charge. And that she did with Rachael.

Rachael always smiles a big fake smile like being paid millions to stand in front of the audience for a few hours a week is just torturous work. Then along comes perky, cheery Kelsey, whose smile is always big, bold, and ridiculously genuine, and suddenly, standing next to her, it is just painfully obvious (even to her supporters) that Rachael has something stuck up her nether regions. Something tells me she will now decline any future involvement with this show. Kelsey starts at the top by throwing a task Rachael’s way: one that is probably a bit menial for such an “experienced” chef; she asks her to prepare an egg for a breakfast sandwich. Rachael tries to make a joke about how she’s getting stuck doing Kelsey’s job, but in Kelsey’s innocence and sweet, bubbly nature, it just makes Rachael sound bitter, and the tension begins. Kelsey further adds to it (probably without even realizing it) by calling her “Rach,” to which I thought her eyes would pop out of their sockets, and she’d overturn the hot pan of eggs on the younger chef’s head. Thankfully, there was the kid there to act as a buffer, though she was smart enough to stay on the other side of Kelsey, safely out of Rachael’s path and wrath.

The rest of the show, “judge’s table” included, was far less eventful, but I kid you not, the four minutes between Kelsey and Rachael were well worth the price of admission. I hereby submit them into the blogosphere as Best Reality Duo– like the cooking Odd Couple! I won’t spoil the outcome and tell you how the judges thought Kelsey (or any of the others) fared. I will just tell you that if you’ve never tuned into this show, now is the perfect time to start! I can’t wait to see what craziness gets cooked (get it?) up next week!!!

    Not even a decade into the new millennium, VH1 has capitalized on the popularity of their previous I Love The… series by debuting I Love The New Millenium last night.  Typically, the series runs two episodes/years per night, over the five night workweek.  However, since this is just 2008 (and the year is still young), it kind of begs the question as what they will do with Friday evening: speculate on the future or just end a bit prematurely?

As I Love The New Millenium kicked off with the infamous Budweiser Whazzup? Guys (were the frogs pre-2000?  I honestly can’t remember) and only a brief verbal mention of Y2K, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of angle small-time comedians like Godfrey, Bill Dwyer, and Hal Sparks (who is best known now for his reality show stunts… I mean, stints) and even smaller-time actors like Beth Littleford and Joe Manganiello would put on things that haven’t seeped out of our consciousnesses yet.  What is normally so great about the I Love The… series is the sense of nostalgia it provokes: we can laugh at the silliness of the B-movie plot or toy they are describing all while remembering its place in our own childhoods.  I Love The New Millenium, therefore, just seems premature.

The first two installments brought us the Baha Men, Shaggy, TiVo, Moulin Rouge, the best summaries of Gladiator and Castaway ever (seriously, you don’t even need to see those movies now!), CSI, the singing bass fish plaque, Razor scooters and Segways, daytime darling Kelly Ripa, XFL, and Melissa Etheridge’s baby daddy, David Crosby (which only really reminds me how old her kids are now and that musicians are weird).  The recurring segments this time around feature Johnny Fairplay, Perez Hilton, Taylor Dane?, Moby (who actually plugged his own song on his 2001 playlist: LAME!), and Sisqo, who lists people from the year he’d like to see in thongs.  When they were all women, I was actually shocked; I think it would have been much more memorable if he had used the segment to admit he’s gay once and for all.  Maybe if this had been distributed on Bravo…

In one very poignant episode of South Park, the characters muse that something tragic doesn’t become funny until 22.3 years later.  And if that’s the case, then I can’t help but wonder what the good people at VH1 could have done with I Love The New Millenium: 2001.  The end of the episode turned very quickly from moderately chuckle-worthy into a flag-waving, “Proud To Be An American” singing, half-circle swaying numb robots.  And yes, I shed a tear.  But then they wrapped it up with the Mets and Piazza’s homerun.  Damn you, VH1; you have to ruin everything!

My birthday is tomorrow, June 23, and to celebrate I will be giving myself a day off from celebrity blogging and celebrity news in general. Jamie Lynn had her baby last week, and by all calculations, Angelina isn’t due until August, so it seems like I’ll be okay to turn off the laptop for one hot Monday and give my bleeding brain a break. Though I have a feeling the withdrawal symptoms may prove too great to keep me away for too long.

As I dig into my Carvel ice cream cake (the five year old in me still loves the crunchies!), feel free to peruse a list of celebrities who share my birthday. One of them even shares the year, but I’ll leave it up to you to figure out which one.

Duffy (1984)

Memphis Bleek (1978)

Jason Mraz (1977)

Emmanuelle Vaugier (1976)

Selma Blair (1972)

Joss Whedon (1964)

Frances McDormand (1957)

Randy Jackson (1956)

June Carter Cash (1929)

Bob Fosse (1927)

Alfred Kinsey (1894)

You can see a complete list here , and yes, my name is included on it, too!

“Damn flipping shit!”

The outburst is not uncommon– not unexpected– and Courtney does not even glance up from her script, just flips another page pointedly, as Leah throws the latest tabloid on top of her appetizer plate.

“Not in this one either.”

“You’re nuts, you know that?”

Leah sighs dramatically: “Court, you really have to start doing more carpets.  I mean, this is pathetic.  Eva and Hilary make the best dressed every issue, and word on the street–“

“And by street?” Courtney humors her.

“In Touch.  She’s been seen at Crossroads.”  Leah glances around almost suspiciously before hissing: “In the valley.”

Courtney giggles and shakes her head: “Then it must be true.”

Leah just shrugs and pulls out her iPhone to scroll through her calendar while picking at a fried wonton.  Courtney watches her, smirking, as she eats her own salad.  The air around them stirs gently, blowing a few strands of her too-natural auburn hair out of her eyes.  She leans back and closes her eyes momentarily after popping a tomato slice into her mouth.  She smiles as the warm California sun tans her surprisingly pale face.  She must be the only actress– no, make that the only person– in Los Angeles who doesn’t fake and bake.

“Ooh, here it is: this is perfect!”

Courtney almost groans at the interruption but just lets Leah go on.  Once she gets started, there is no stopping her motor mouth.  Courtney learned that the hard way when she attempted to rebut a point in Anthropology 262: things got so heated that Leah flung a compact at her head as the professor winced by the door.  After class, Courtney took Leah to the local coffee house to apologize, and it was there they learned they had mutual aspirations: Courtney wanted to move to Los Angeles to be an actress, and Leah wanted to move to Los Angeles to be photographed partying with the rich and famous.  They’ve been friends ever since.

Leah’s insistent voice snapped Courtney out of her trance: “The Nocturnal Mutiny premiere is tonight!  Vince, Brad, and Matt are supposed to be there.  Get photographed with one of them, and you’re set for a good three weeks.”  As she taps the magazine to emphasize her point, Courtney shakes her head again.

“Yeah, I know.  Marty couldn’t get me tickets to that one.”

“Flipping agents; what good are they?”

Courtney shrugs and takes a sip of water: “It’s no big deal; I have an early call tomorrow.”

“I bet the after party will be just as star-studded.  What do you say?”

Courtney picks up one of the magazines and stares wistfully at the cover, tracing her finger down the side.

“That lust in your eyes I’ll take as a yes.” Leah picks up her iPhone again and quickly dials a number.

Courtney protests and tears at a piece of lettuce: “Leah, what are you doing?  Would you put the phone down?”

Leah holds up a hand to shush her as Courtney watches while pretending to read her script.
“Hello, Kenn Henman please.  No I can’t hold.  Tell him Courtney Primm’s assistant is on the line, and it’s urgent.”

Courtney laughs: “Everything’s urgent with you.  Paging Dr. Shepherd.”

She flips through the script, stopping only on the highlighted parts, mouthing them quietly to herself.
Leah shushes her and then turns away to speak directly into the phone.  She is loud, and the couple at the next table glances over at her.  Courtney smiles apologetically at them, and they glance away again, obviously annoyed but also obviously used to this sort of thing.

“Kenn, hi.  Leah Conroy.  Courtney Primm’s assistant.  Listen, Kenn, I need two tickets to the Nocturnal Mutiny after-party for Ms. Primm and myself.  Uh huh.  Uh huh.  No, that is unacceptable, Kenn.  UN-ACCEPT-ABLE.  She will not settle for some family friendly Disney piece of shit!”

“Seriously, Dr. Walsh, calm down.  If it’s full, it’s full.  It’s not a big deal.  There are tons of these things.”

Leah covers the phone momentarily: “Not like this one; this is a press wet dream.”

Courtney mutters to herself, something about Leah knowing that because of the many teenage boys that share her bed, which Leah ignores as she continues to berate the poor publicist on the other end.  Silently, Courtney wonders why he even picked up his extension.

“Seriously, Kenn, Disney?  Who would she meet there?  The Sprouse twins?  Hannah Montana?  Nocturnal Mutiny.  That’s what we need.  Uh huh.  Great.  Thank you, Kenn.”  Leah hangs up and grins at Courtney, then snatches the script away from her.

“I’m on a soap, Leah; I’m not Angelina,” Courtney reaches for it, but Leah wags a finger at her.

“It’s a primetime soap.  And it’s not forever.  Your contract’s up in, like, a month.  You’re leaving, right?”

Courtney scoffs: “Not the way things are going.”

“So I take it the audition went well.”

Courtney wrinkles her nose.

Leah rolls her eyes, scoffing back just as hard to match Courtney’s pessimism: she has heard this before.
“Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

Courtney sips more of her water and shakes her head: “No, I majorly blew—“  Knowing with what Leah is about to respond, she holds her hand up to stop her: “Not like that!  I mean, I bit.  I mean, it was like the audition was one big fat brownie: I was Star Jones and backsliding fast.”

Leah reaches over and snatches a piece of chicken from Courtney’s plate.  Courtney pushes it closer to her, and Leah just wrinkles her nose and pushes it back.  “But they’re not all going to have directors chasing you out to your car.”

“Oh I don’t think you understand.  I mean, I bit.”

“Yeah, I get it.  Dessert all around.”  Leah sits back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest.

Out of nowhere, a bored looking waitress, who is popping her gum the way Courtney remembers the New York private school girls at her drama camp doing way back when, manages to find her way over to their table.  Leah just shakes her head at her: “Not for us, I’m doing macrobiotic this week.  Just the check.”

Courtney tries to hide a smile at the remnants of the fried wontons still evident on Leah’s plate.  Leah is still glaring at her, though, and Courtney doesn’t see the big deal: “So I stick with Chateau Pacific a while longer; it’s been good to me.”

“Yeah but your demo is not ideal at all.”

“I get recognized.”

The waitress places the check down in front of Leah and doesn’t even glance up at Courtney.  Courtney assumes she must be trying to break into acting, too.  Who isn’t?  One time, at P.F. Chang’s in the Sherman Oaks Galleria, her waiter actually slipped her his headshot, as if she could get him a meeting.  How could she when she couldn’t get herself meetings?  Leah took it anyway; he had been cute.

Leah ignores the check, so Courtney takes care of it.  This is not uncommon or unexpected, either.
Leah just tears into her fortune cookie, ripping the thin strip of paper out and looking at it as she responds: “By the Mid-West pancake bunch.  Look, I’m just saying, where you’re at is fine, but this is the time to try for more. You don’t want to be known as Trina Madsen for the rest of your life, right?”

Courtney thinks for a moment before replying: “Yeah… ultimately. You know, acting is just… it’s unpredictable where it takes you, and that was the whole reason I started. I guess I’ve gotten a little comfortable.”

Leah has her brow wrinkled, clearly lost in her own world, and probably not even listening to her friend: “This isn’t even a fortune!  Seriously: “You are energetic and full of life.”  It’s an observation!  And where are the lottery numbers?”  She throws the cookie down on her plate in disgust.  It breaks into smaller pieces, and she eats them one at a time as Courtney opens her own cookie.

Finally Leah snaps out of it and realizes what Courtney just said: “Sorry.  But you’re better than a supporting role on the Serenity Channel.  Think about it.  And think about this party tonight.”

Courtney ponders this for a minute and then smiles.  She holds her fortune out to Leah, who smiles and reads it aloud:  “You will soon find yourself in the company of greats… in bed.”  Courtney laughs and tosses the fortune on top of the credit card she already left on top of the check.  Leah grins and eats Courtney’s cookie, too: “That’s fate… it’s fate!”

Courtney closes her eyes again.  She thinks she’s going to regret this later, but she whispers: “Let’s do it,” barely audibly.  Leah manages to hear, though, and squeals with excitement, clapping her hands giddily.  Courtney giggles, and Leah pulls out her cell phone again.

“Let’s hope that Faretti is ready at the cleaners.  I’m going to wear a dress so low-cut you’ll be able to tell if I’m wearing a thong.”

Courtney just shakes her head as she stands to go.  Again, nothing uncommon or unexpected.

Check out the rest of the story here .

A cool, gray weekend in March was warmed by the smiles of hundreds of adoring female fans (oh, okay, and the few token husbands or sons that were dragged along) at the LAX Marriott for the 2008 Creation Entertainment “Salute to Supernatural.” While the festivities kicked off on Friday night with pre-registration, special vendors’ sales, and a concert by fan favorite Jason Manns, things really didn’t get rolling until Saturday afternoon when creator Eric Kripke took the stage to answer some questions that both the strike and the general suspenseful nature of the show previously left hanging. The most prominent things on everyone’s mind seemed to be the concept of a “Body Swap” episode, in which Dean and Sam experience their own Freaky Friday moment as well as the return of the show on Thursday (The CW will air a three reruns to get the audience back into the flow of the show until the first post-strike episode is ready to air on April 24). “Body Swap” wasn’t confirmed by Kripke, but it wasn’t entirely shot down, either, and the fan who seeded his mind with it might want to register the spec so she can collect residuals when it undoubtedly turns up in a season or two, as it proved to be a very popular topic all weekend.

The number of attendees seemed to grow exponentially come Sunday morning– the day the Winchester boys were scheduled to meet and greet the fans who had come from all walks of life– and they turned up from all parts of the world to support the stars of their favorite show. And they really did come from all parts; some drove down from Northern California; a few flew in from Chicago or Texas or Florida; and a couple more traveled from Australia or Israel, all to get their first taste at convention fandom. As one fan pointedly shrugged: “If you have the opportunity to do meet and take a picture with someone you like, why not do it? You may never get that chance again.” For a lot of these fans, though, the opportunity presents itself time and time again with a handful of conventions just like this popping up across the country as the cult-like following of similar sci-fi/fantasy programming becomes a bit more mainstream.

First up on Sunday was a breakfast and silent auction to which only Gold Members were privy. Tickets for the convention were sold by event or in tiers, but no one seemed to feel like they were missing out: everyone who wanted a Gold ticket seemed to get one, as Creation Entertainment was extremely accommodating to the high demand. Photo ops came next, followed by a Q&A (during which Jensen and Jared indulged the cheering crowd in their impersonations of each other), and then autograph sessions. Around mid-afternoon composer Steve Carlson and recurring guest star Sandra McCoy popped in for Q&As and autograph sessions of their own. What was most fascinating about the event, though, was that the face time with the stars was so minimal– literally seconds while the professional photographer snapped the photo– but the time spent on the lines seemed to be just as valuable. Fans mingled, laughed, and made new friends quickly, exchanging email addresses and myspace page IDs to share photos and videos later.

While the majority of the fans loved the show and storylines first (but couldn’t help but notice the leads are hot, so that definitely makes tuning in week after week even more enjoyable), a handful admitted they have only seen a few episodes so far. Mary only got into the show the weekend of the convention, in fact, when her friend Tracy flew in from Houston to crash at her house while attending the events. Tracy had Mary’s whole family, including her eleven year-old daughter, who subsequently developed a crush on Jared, watching the Season 1 DVDs in preparation, which prompted Mary to buy a last minute ticket and photo op. And that was not unique to those friends: fan after fan interviewed mentioned they started watching the show because of word of mouth, something which seems to be backed up by the show’s growing ratings as more and more people make Supernatural appointment television.

And getting the word out has always been the primary goal of Team Winchester, an online community that provides custom, public domain virtual banners, avatars, and other images for fans to embed on their respective websites. With the infamous tag of “Tell your friends to tell their friends,” the new management behind Team Winchester was represented at the convention, and all three were eager to meet the fans with whom they had been talking on message boards and forums for months. Explained Danie: “These are wonderful people who are a tight-knit, vocal, but classy group.” While some expect the fan-base to be made up of primarily teenage fan girls, that proved not to be the majority, as while the banquet rooms were full of claps, cheers, and whooping, high-pitched squealing and fainting was left for Gossip Girl (also The CW) events. Danie also expressed interest in tying in some charity work with organizations like Kids Need To Read or Linda Blair’s WorldHeart Foundation. It’s easy to get these fans moving in the name of their favorite show– after all, during the WGA strike when The CW wasn’t showing Supernatural reruns, many fans signed online petitions in support of getting their boys back on the air, as well as sending letters with packets of salt to the network heads. There is no doubt that kind of action will translate to a good cause.
After all, a handful of fans have been following Jensen since his daytime days, and almost everyone first watched Jared on Gilmore Girls. Though these guys have certainly been around for a while, though, the response Supernatural has garnered them appears to have solidified that series as their big break. These fans are hooked, and they are hooked for life! The consensus this weekend was that there was virtually nothing these guys could do next to which these fans wouldn’t follow them– whether that is a charity function or another genre of film (Jared expressed interest in a western, and it was hard to tell if he was kidding, but he didn’t seem to realize he is already in this millenium’s perfect buddy piece). “The show is much more intelligent than just guys chasing monsters,” Samantha explained. “The show is scary and suspenseful, but the relationship between the brothers is what keeps us coming back.”

As the events came to a close, one mother-daughter duo proudly showed off their joint photo with Jensen and Jared and talked about that one day a week that has become “Panda Padalecki Thursdays.” They pick up their favorite fast food (Panda Express) for dinner and then sit down to watch their favorite show together as a family. And as Corey (the mother) pointed out: “At an age when your sixteen year old doesn’t really want to hang out with you, this is a nice thing we can do together.”

Jensen, Jared, and Supernatural, bringing people together since 2005.

Just in time for the premiere of the fourth season, Lionsgate has released a special companion soundtrack to their hit comedy Weeds. Though an official album, featuring music from and inspired by the show, has been released in conjunction with each season’s DVD release (and the third is upcoming this fall), this new album is perhaps the only true collector’s item, even if it’s a bit kitschy.

After the season three finale, where Nancy (Mary Louise Parker) set fire to her own house during a mandatory evacuation of Agrestic due to the wildfires (a move that proved to have much insight, as her friends were all simultaneously being interrogated about the grow house found in Celia (Elizabeth Perkins)’s pre-fab box), the show announced that they would be retiring their theme song, appropriately named “Little Boxes.” If Nancy would no longer be in Agrestic, the whole opening sequence would have to be scrapped, simulating that while she as a mother and a businesswoman would be moving on with her life, so would the show be heading in a new direction (one which is apparently west, according to the fourth season premiere). Each episode over the three years featured a variation of the original Malvina Reynolds ditty, spanning genres from the folksy tempo of Randy Newman to the country twang of Billy Bob Thornton to salsa and hip-hop and even a ballad. “Little Boxes Dimebag #1,” therefore, is a ten-track volume of said covers, collecting the most original and perhaps most inspired but still promising that this is just a little taste, and more will be forthcoming… if we want it.

Anyone who watches Weeds—religiously or just on occasion—can attest that this song gets under your skin and stays in your head for days after that initial viewing. We’re addicted to Weeds’ product as a whole—not just the smart writing or sharp acting but everything in between. “Little Boxes” has always been catchy, but now that it has been released in a multitude of genres and tempos, there is virtually a version for everyone. Lionsgate definitely knew what they were doing here: feeding the addiction, giving us more and more of the phenomenon, little bits at a time. “Little Boxes Dimebag #1” is only available online but is definitely worth a download… C’mon; all the cool kids are doing it!

TiVo is a drug dealer; it remembers what you watch and makes recommendations for what you might want to try. It has sometimes even been known to record an episode of one or two such programs to “give you a little taste.”  Whether or not you are known to have an addictive personality prior to obtaining a DVR doesn’t much matter, as the minute the box is opened in your living room, the device will undoubtedly turn you into a greedy, obsessive Gollum-esque shell of your former self.

TiVo makes you feel bad for missing an episode of your favorite show. It’s such an easy machine to use how could you not record it… and once it’s sitting there, waiting for you in your very own living room, why wouldn’t you watch it?  With the “old-fashioned” way of watching television (ie: linearly), you have to make choices.  If two of your favorite shows are on opposite each other (let’s use the Cold Case/Desperate Housewives Sundays at 9 debacle), you have to consciously pick one over the other; you have to act as an informed and responsible citizen.  Maybe you’ll catch up on the other show during reruns in the summer, maybe when it comes to DVD months later, or maybe you’ll watch one week of one and then one week of the other.  Now, it may seem like a benefit that with TiVo recording one while you watch the other “live,” you can get the best of both worlds, so to speak, but very soon it will become an obsessive desire to start recording all sorts of new programming—shows you may have vowed never to get sucked into– and do you really need to check out Farmer Wants A Wife?  Suddenly the very device which was supposed to offer freedom from the shackles appointment television will be weighing you down in a different way.

Suddenly all of the daytime programming that used to be reserved for housewives, unemployed people, and children home sick from school will be fair game. The compulsive desire to record every episode of Ellen: The Ellen Degeneres Show or Live With Regis and Kelly—just for the host chat, you’ll tell yourself (and you know what? Throw in The View for Hot Topics while you’re at it, since you can), but within a little time you’ll watch the full episode. It’d start by just wanting to see a specific guest, but it will spiral. Oh, it will spiral. The desire will become a need, and soon TiVo will be obese with episodes of Judge Judy and Gilmore Girls (or whatever) in syndication, even though you probably already own the full series on DVD.

Since people now record programming to watch it at their convenience later, the ratings game has completely changed; shows are pulled off the air prematurely because the number of viewers tuning in during its regularly scheduled timeslot is lower than ever.  There is no sense of pride regarding favorite shows anymore; with TiVo you can easily take a show for granted, stockpiling episodes in your sleek, silver box, only to watch them at a later date.  But maybe that date never comes or by the time it does, you get to episode three only to find that there is no four.  Was there a technical glitch in your beloved box (probably not, but that’s something to think about, too; when a show runs long, TiVo just cuts off its recording, making you miss the last three-pointer in the NCAA Championship game or the “bring down the house” performance on American Idol) or did the network pull the show because not enough people were watching?  TiVo has the potential to put more Below The Line crewmembers out of work than the WGA Strike!

TiVo will be full in a manner of weeks, and ironically, you’ll have to sit at home watching episodes back-to-back all day and night just to be able to delete some so you have enough free space for the next day/night’s shows. There will be dark rings around your eyes from lack of sleep, pale skin from sitting in the house in front of the television instead of going out and joining the real world, and an obsessive little tick that only thinks of your next fix. Before you know it, you’ll be a junkie.  We all need to just say no… to TiVo.