I Drew This

So, you think?

Published

on 27 June 2008

.
2 Comments

First there was the Australian version of the American version of Idol. Then we had Ice Skating with People Who Have Been On TV, which nobody watched because we don’t really ice skate much in this harsh, hot land of ours. This was followed by Dancing with People You’ve Heard Of and So You Think You Can Dance Even Though You’re Not Famous, the rules of which were slightly broken by Rhys “Elf” Bobridge, who was already a professional performer, having appeared in a TV series and in sellout live shows all around the country. He got away with it though by being famous only to girls under the age of eight.

But I digress. TV networks are scraping the barrel of the performance/knockout genre, with Seven recently subjecting us to Battle of the Groups of Bad Singers (I mean if I wanted to see amateurs who can barely sing, doing bad numbers that were neither written nor arranged for ensemble performance, I’d go to an eisteddfod).

So, in an effort to play my part for the discerning viewer, I’d like to pitch some suggestions to TV execs. We can discuss terms later.

So You Think You Can Write A Novel, in which contestants must write a new chapter every week, to be read out in front of a screaming crowd and panel of judges. Of course, each chapter must be edited to fit into the 90 seconds of performance time given to each contenstant.
Gardening With The Stars: a bit like the celebrity segment of Burke’s Backyard, only competitive, with contestants having to produce a crop of veges, plant a native garden, and strike a fruit tree from a cutting
Australian Flirt in which the judges and presenters are probably more likely to win
Battle of the Abstract Impressionists. A group of painters must produce a work based on a subject of the judges’ choosing each week. Bonus, adults-only episode screens after 9.30 pm in week six. Yes, life drawing
Train Surfing with the Stars. I’m really excited about this one. Given the risky nature of the activity can I suggest we get Daryl Somers, Sam Newman, Will Anderson, the Australia-wide presenters of ACA and TT. Oh, and the cast of Home and Away
So You Think You Can Sleep. Surely it would be better than those late-night infomercials. Who wouldn’t want to see the semi-final, in which a travel agent from Queensland loses out to production assistant from Tassie after a Horlicks-related lactose-intolerance-causes-late-night-farting-and-insomnia incident
Chess with the Stars. Riveting viewing, this one. They’d have those special clocks. Sandra Sully would be an early casualty, finding it mentally taxing having to think more than one move ahead
So You Think You Can Whittle: these twelve rocking chairs on this porch… will eventually become one
Self-immolation With The Stars. There’s just not enough kerosene really, is there.

What have you got, people?

Tribute

Published

drew

on 26 June 2008

in Featured, Idea v. Reality and Media

.
0 Comments

I know I’m cynical about it, and I can’t believe that more people aren’t. I’m talking about whenever someone dies, the commercial news programs wheel out their slow-motion montages of the recently deceased, complete with inspirational wind-beneath-my-wings type power ballad as backup.

There was one recently for a famous cricketer’s wife. And be assured, I’m not in any way trying to malign the deceased or their significant others in this, just the news programs that seem to think the best way to pay tribute to someone is to create a slow-motion montage, complete with sucky wind-beneath-my-wings type power ballad as backup.

Yuck!

I can see its worth in something like Big Brother. When a housemate is evicted, before they leave in their new car, or whatever, they get to sit through a montage of slow-motion clips of themselves doing crazy, whacky and sometimes downright embarrassing things to a not-so-sucky pop tune or piece of backing music (because the demographic is entirely different, you understand. We’re talking Bette-Midler-free zone).

And I think to be in that situation and see yourself in that way must be great. In fact, wouldn’t it be great if all of us, every birthday or so, see the year that was in a slo-mo film clip of our favorite song from the previous year… hanging out at the pub, throwing the frisbee, doing the dishes, staying up late and working, watching TV with your loved one, getting scared by a spider/snake/mouse, running for the train, making a stupid face at someone, getting angry in traffic, reading the paper and sipping a piping hot cup of tea on a Saturday morning, snorting said tea through your nose after laughing at the Far Side comic.

Y’know, just nice, everyday moments, made special by virtue of the fact they’re in slow motion to the tune of a song you really like.

Let’s go fly a…

Published

drew

on 25 June 2008

in Ma vie and Work

.
1 Comment

I’m at a bit of a loss at the moment, feeling as though I’ve hit a wall in the career department.

And I can’t stop thinking about a book my kids have, about a family who buy a hotel by the beach but realise quickly that it’s windy ten months of the year, so business is bad, which is why the place was on the market to begin with.

So instead of selling up/giving up, they make a whole lot of kites and by the end of the book their little seaside hotel is full ten months of the year because it’s known as the kite-flying capital of whatever country they’re in. During the non-windy months, they have a nice summer holiday. Lovely.

I know there’s a great next step for me. Something creative, something original, something that will let me put to use the skills I have. I just don’t know what form my kite will take.

And please, don’t comment and tell me the answer is blowin’ in the wind.

Sales technique

Published

drew

on 25 June 2008

in Consumer goods and Ma vie

.
0 Comments

I was home from work last Friday and actually answered the door to a guy selling something: insulation. For anything else I would have thanked him and bid him fond farewell but I happen to need insulation. It’s one of those next big jobs we have to do around the house. So I let him do his prepared speech and picked a not-too-inconvenient time for a sales rep to come around and give us a quote. We set this up for Monday night.

They gave me a confirmation call on the Monday morning to make sure I’d be home at the time I said I’d be home. I was thinking, he’ll come in, go through the features of his product, get up in the roof for a quick look, maybe measure up the place, give us a quote, we’ll say thanks but not right at the moment and he’ll be on his way; the whole thing should take 45 minutes, tops, then we can eat, get the kids to bed and begin to wind down ourselves.

Now, the guy who came was lovely. Really nice guy. Had I met him at a party, I would have gotten on very well with him and would gladly chat over a few beers. And that’s rare for me but he was all right. He was into his music and we had similar taste; he was a bit of a rev-head but I wouldn’t hold that against him; his wife is expecting their first in five or six weeks. You’ll notice though, that very litte of that stuff is related in anyway to recycled-newspaper-treated-with-borax-and-boric-acid insulation. Everytime he went off on a tangent, we’d have to bring him back on topic.

“Yeah, I had to go to Port Pirie last week, then drive home. Then they rang me and said they wanted me to go back the next day”

“…so… it’s recycled, you say?”

Two and a half hours later, we finally got to say our goodbyes. Through all this we’ve managed to feed the kids, get them changed and teeth-brushed, put them to bed, get our own dinner on and keep it warm in anticipation. We’d already given him a cup of tea, no way was he staying for the meat & veg. We said our goodbyes, he got his satchel, his ladder and I helped him with his blowtorch. He was packing his car, telling us all about how messy it was and gave us a recipe book some relative of his had done for her year 12 assignment that his boss had loved and had published.

I thought we were getting a quote on insulation; I could have written this guy’s biography by the time he left. C said that’s the strategy: stay as long as you can and be nice, so they feel guilty if they say no. For me, every minute he spent here past the 45 I had allocated in my head me less likely to say yes.

So this morning, when there was a knock on the door, I stayed hidden in the bedroom. I don’t need the latest copy of The Watchtower.

People see what they want to see

Published

drew

on 23 June 2008

in Idea v. Reality and Travels

.
3 Comments

Just remembered I wrote this coming back from Melbourne last month

At checkin, the lady asked me if I’d be willing to sit in an Emergency Exit seat. If the plane crashes they need someone who can open the door and heave it out of the aircraft. They’re looking for people who are a fit, unencumbered and maybe a bit responsible.

I said fine.

Then, after going through the x-ray, being male, alone, slightly unshaven and carrying a backpack, the security guard picked me for a random explosives check.

53

Published

drew

on 22 June 2008

in Bairn and Film

.
0 Comments

I was at the local brickbuster last weekend looking for something for the kids to watch. I had Little Miss L with me, who was turning her nose up at pretty much everything they had there as they were either old rubbish, good stuff that she’s seen before, or new rubbish, including the Bratz movies (though I was turning my nose up at those. Slutz, I call them. And yeah, it’s amazing how suddenly conservative you get when there’s a five-year-old girl involved).

The one thing we did seem to settle on was Herbie Goes Bananas. Strange choice for a 5yo girl, I thought but I was a bit of a Herbie fan when I was around 10, so I thought if nothing else, I might get a giggle out of it.

Anyway, it was a hit. They both loved it and have watched it again every day this last week (it’s due back today). There’s a good bit of info floating around on it but the standouts are that they used 26 prop Herbies in the making of it, and there’s one scene where a prop Herbie is thrown overboard from a ship. And word has it, is still there. The IMDB says that the prop Herbies were auctioned off after filming for as little as US$25 but in the film a couple of them get beaten up pretty badly (that bullfight was savage) so they were probably lucky to get that much.

So yesterday, C went to Brickbuster again with Little Miss L and came back with not only The Love Bug but also Herbie Fully Loaded, so Herbieville here at the mo.

Little Miss M is in her second viewing of HFL right now. The good parts are the original Love Bug soundtrack and Lindsay Lohan’s winning smile. The not so good is the stupid eyelids they put on the VW and the electric, sparky fx. Still, they probably had to do something with all those CG artists employed by the studio.

The highlight of HFL though, is when Matt Dillon looks under the hood (or the boot, in this case) to have a go at sabotaging the engine, and you know that cute little bug is gonna squirt oil in his face, it’s just a matter of when, and then maybe you think he might not do it because it’s an old gag and this is a new movie, the dramatic irony is intense, but then HE DOES IT!!

Comedy gold.

And in yesterday’s paper I was checking out the prices of old veedubs.

Tongue numbing

Published

drew

on 16 June 2008

in Adelaide, Featured, Idea v. Reality, Language and Media

.
0 Comments

For any readers outside South Australia, there’s been a recent crisis in this state’s hospital industry, with doctors and other specialists arguing over wage increases. Related story here.

The issue has come to a head and many emergency doctors and staff have not just gone on strike but resigned their positions altogether.

Take that!

I’d like to put out a message to directors of TV and radio outlets now, as it’s timely. I’m mostly a humble guy and don’t like to blow my own trumpet, as it were. I don’t think I’m arrogant or self-righteous and I don’t often judge or condemn people. However, there are times when I believe a base level of competence should go along with certain jobs. So my message is this.

If you’re running a Radio or TV newsroom, please get in touch with me and offer me a job. Why? Well, for starters, I can correctly pronounce the word anaesthetist.

Seriously, I should put this on my résumé.

It’s been an interesting week of watching and listening to various media, hearing them say that word and completely fuck it up in about 90 % of cases.

Another word a lot of journos have trouble with is vulnerable. People, the first l is NOT SILENT.

If you hear a newsreader or reporter this week saying “South Australia’s health industry is in a vulnerable position following the recent mass-resignation of emergency doctors and hospital anaesthetists,” listen for the gurgling sounds that follow as their throats go into spasm and they invariably choke on their tongues.

I once met a med student studying to become an anaesthetist and she couldn’t pronounce it. While I hope she, and other anaesthetists, can successfully pronounce the drugs they’re administering, I’m not going to judge, as long as the right drug goes in the right patient and everyone who’s supposed to be alive, stays alive at the end of the day.

But journalists? They’re supposed to be guardians of the language. They’re the one group of people who are supposed to get this right. Still, when most people on TV news are either ex-footballers (read: trained monkeys (and even then, I’m not that sure how well trained)) and sexy young uni grads with zero life experience, what hope is there?

The only Conchords fan

Published

drew

on 12 June 2008

in Links, Music and TV

.
0 Comments

Just got this link from a friend. A treat for Flight of the Conchords fans.

Get back

Published

drew

on 5 June 2008

in Idea v. Reality and Music

.
0 Comments

I think about time travel a lot. Mostly about what I’d do if I found myself in another time and what I’d do, knowing what I know, to get filthy rich. It would be easy to know what the next big thing was going to be if you knew what it was. And I’m not sure that last sentence really conveyed the importance that the conditional/past tense transition really had on what I was trying to mean. Maybe I should have used a pluperfect. It would be easy…going to be…if you knew what it had been. Better.

I usually think of it in terms of popular culture: I could write scripts for great films (”Think of it Steven, the alien hides inside the basket of the kid’s BMX and they take off into the air… what?… oh, it’s a kind of bike); come up with great inventions (”what if the headphones didn’t go over your head, but had tiny, tiny speakers that you put inside your ears”); and the most popular thing I come up with is making music (”thanks folks… I love you all. Now here’s a little number called It’s Not Unusual“)

Which got me to thinking one day…

Do you think that Paul is actually from the future and went back in time and arranged for Stuart to have a little accident with a gang of thugs?