June 22, 2011 § Leave a comment
Last night, my mother forced me to watch The Voice with her. This happened the night after she forced me to watch The Bachelorette with her. From this we can learn two things: I need to gain willpower and my mom has an addiction to reality television. I sat through The Voice only with the help of a glass of Riesling, and I became a little melancholy with each of Carson Daly’s introductions and interjections. TRL is certainly a thing of the past when his biggest gig is asking Blake Shelton what he thinks of Frenchie’s less sexually charged version of Madonna’s “Like a Prayer.”
Listen. It isn’t that I don’t understand people’s excitement over these shows. Hell, I wanted to be on American Idol until an unfortunate case of vocal cord nodules got in the way. My choir teacher was almost as crushed as my chances at getting any more show choir solos. What I don’t understand is why we need fourteen different shows with the same premise. Isn’t The Voice just American Idol but with weird teams? Teams which I still can’t truly understand the need for? It’s actually kind of like their hosts – Ryan Seacrest and Carson Daly really aren’t all that different, one is just more pop culturally relevant than the other.
All I’m saying is I realize that we have a high number of talented humans living in the United States. But must we put them all on television and pretend they are going to be culturally relevant in three to five years? Maybe that’s too harsh. But tell me this: who won America’s Got Talent last year? Who won American Idol three years ago? The only one I’ve heard of from America’s Got Talent is a twelve-year-old girl who has vocal chords that sound like a forty-year olds. Which I suppose is interesting, but it also makes me wonder if she’s an alien or something.
Perhaps I’m bias in this thinking, but let’s start a show called America’s Got Writers. It’ll be all about writers and who can write the best short stories or even catchy one liners for commercials. We could bring Oscar Wilde and Virginia Woolf back from the dead, add in a few “hip” writers like Chuck Palahnuik and Thomas Pynchon and watch as they disagree on writing styles while the writers try to make deadlines and impress both the old and the new.
Bottom line: While I acknowledge that yes, America’s Got Talent, I think talents other than amazing vocal cord abilities and the means to put both of their legs behind their head and still run a four-minute mile, should be acknowledged. Just because it would be praised at the circus doesn’t mean it’s better than being able to write the perfect short story. Although, now that I think about it, it would be really cool to be able to run a four-minute mile with both of your legs behind your head.
June 21, 2011 § 1 Comment
While I realize that $8.50 cannot get you close to even a monthly payment on a Roles Royce, I find it ridiculous that I must shell out enough to buy a burrito bowl and a drink at Chipotle for a small bottle of “nail lacquer.” Sidenote: why do they call it nail lacquer? It sounds somewhat like liquor. Anyway, I don’t get it. While this isn’t a rant about O.P.I., it is about the price tag that Marie Antoinette and the rest of French royalty would’ve been comfortable with.
This may sound petty. Sure, I could buy Wet ‘n Wild nail polish and cease my rant about the price tag of something that half of our population (read: men) don’t wear. Unfortunately, I find Wet ‘n Wild to have the consistency of the paste that weird boys liked to eat in the first grade. I’m not gonna put that stuff on my nails and risk having them gnawed off when I babysit my six-year-old nephew. Plus, Wet ‘n Wild also reminds me of the days that I wore body glitter, rocked a mouth full with ten pounds of mental and the same color pants, shirt and hair scrunchy, all from the fashion powerhouse known as Limited Too. Not a time I necessarily would like to relive.
Maybe the high price I am paying supports the salary of the person who names the nail polishes. I wish I could make that position sound better, but I’m unaware of whether or not there is a specific title for that job. For example, the nail polish pictured above is called so little clowns, so little time. In what way does that correlate to that bottle of polish? I will say, however, the names make the nail polish buying a little more fun. I want to see if this position is something I could apply for; names such as booger variety tissue decoration and blush of a woman laughing as she realizes her dress is tucked into her underwear really shouldn’t be in my head, but rather on a bottle of light green and pink bottles of nail lacquer.
Bottom line: The nail polish is great, so just plug your ears when the sales girl tells you the total. But, continue to remember how ridiculous it is.