T.V. Love

I’m not a huge fan of award shows. It seems like every year there are more and more award shows and honestly, it’s hard for me to keep up with all of them. The best part of any of these shows is usually the red carpet, because I like to mock and/or admire the various wardrobe selections. But other than the fashion, the shows usually just serve as a sad reminder that I have no idea who Gnarls Barkley is and apparently, I should.

Last night, however, I excitedly turned on the Grammys because I was dying to see the big Police reunion. Ever since hearing Scrantonicity sing “Roxanne” on The Office this past week, I have missed the Police more than I already did.

If I had a soundtrack to my junior high years, a good portion would contain songs like Every Breath You Take, Don’t Stand So Close To Me, and Every Little Thing She Does is Magic. I loved the Police and later, loved Sting.

I wore out my cassette of Dream of the Blue Turtles listening to Fortress Around Your Heart. It was the perfect anthem for my 8th grade angst as I dreamed about the sophomore boy that I so desperately wanted to call and ask me to meet him at the mall. I would pop that cassette into my York stereo, fast forward to that song and lie on my bed as I cried while singing “and if I built this fortress around your heart, encircled you with trenches and barbed wire…”. I fancied myself quite the intellectual for crying to Sting instead of say, El Debarge.

I may have been a little dramatic.

I have to say that I was slightly disturbed to see Sting wearing a vest with no shirt under it because in college I had a professor that taught Intercultural Communications that often sported that same look, but with less physique and much, much more chest hair. It brought back some bad memories. Nevertheless, I loved seeing the Police back together again, shirt or no shirt.

P and I ended up watching the entire show together, which is some kind of marital record for us, because P, as a general rule, doesn’t watch shows that don’t involve some type of weaponry. And since we were watching together, he got to hear all the scoop about Cameron and Justin breaking up and how Justin is now supposedly dating Jessica Biel. He remarked that Justin could probably get any girl he wanted and I said “Not me, I’d never leave you for Justin. I might leave you for Emmitt Smith, but not Justin”. Don’t judge me, y’all know Emmitt can dance.

We also agreed that since the Dixie Chicks won so many awards, that our good friends Charlie and Emily may go ahead and join the Country Club this summer, so we might not be seeing them at the pool, which is really a shame because I’d love to sit down and chat if for no other reason than to find out who colored Natalie’s hair because it looked fabulous.

The best line of the night goes to P, who asked me if Carrie Underwood was a Christian since she sings that song Jesus, Take the Wheel. I told him I had read an interview with her where she dodged the question and he said “Well, then why would she sing that song?” and I said, “I guess she just liked it”. He replied, “Maybe when she first saw it she thought it was about a Hispanic chaffeur named Jesus”.

And that’s why I’d really never leave him for Emmitt.

I have been a fan of Gilmore Girls since the beginning. I have loved Rory and Lorelai from day one and I am a faithful watcher. P says that the whole show makes him crazy and just hearing it on the T.V. makes his ears bleed.

But here’s the thing, for me the witty, fast paced dialogue is what makes the show great.

So here’s my question to any of y’all that care…don’t you think the dialogue has gone downhill? Last night, Lorelai and Rory went on for twenty minutes about post- Christmas tree sales and all I could think was when did this show take a bad turn. What happened to all the cool literary references and obscure pop culture mentions?

I’d love some thoughts from fellow viewers. Discuss amongst yourselves.

We are in Day 4 under siege and finally, the ice has actually made an appearance. If it weren’t freezing cold and sleeting, I’d take a few pictures of the yard, but to do that would require being cold and walking more than five feet away from the plate of cookies. Not going to happen.

So since real life has come to a screeching halt, here are a few thoughts I’ve had on the entertainment front:

I didn’t watch the Golden Globes last night because let’s be honest, the best part is seeing what everyone has on and I knew I could see that online this morning. I did see that Jennifer Hudson won Best Supporting Actress for Dreamgirls and that Dreamgirls won Best Movie. Even though this is the only movie I’ve seen from the list of nominees (P and I were going to see The Queen, but saw Talladega Nights instead), I have to say it was a well deserved win.

Gulley and I braved the cold rain and ventured out into Arctic Blast ’07 on Sunday night to go see Dreamgirls. I haven’t seen a musical in years, but let me say that I loved this movie. If I could come back in another life as someone else, I would choose Beyonce. She is gorgeous, talented, and came up with the term “Bootylicious”. How much more fabulous can one person be?

Jennifer Hudson brought the house down with her performance. I have never been in a theater where people applaud and cheer after a performance, but it happened several times during this movie. Girlfriend can sing. She is the next Aretha and I don’t take Aretha lightly. Do yourself a favor and go see this movie, but leave your husband at home unless he likes musicals and multiple costume changes.

The other reason I didn’t watch the Golden Globes (other than not caring about anything other than the clothes) is they were on the same time as 24. When Jack Bauer is busy saving the world, it is must see T.V.

Here’s my thought on 24, when will the powers that be realize that Jack Bauer is never wrong? How many seasons do we have to listen to Jack say, “Bill, you’ve got to trust me on this”? Jack knows everything, don’t question when he has a hunch. Although thanks to Gulley, I have spent the last two nights watching and wondering if Kiefer Sutherland really is so small that his jeans wouldn’t fit a twelve year old girl.

Moving on from 24, while watching last Thursday’s Grey’s Anatomy, I had a thought. It’s all fine and good that Meredith Grey has abandonment issues but personally, if she were dating my neurosurgeon, I would prefer that he get a good night sleep so that he can focus while operating on my BRAIN, than make her feel better by sleeping in the same room with her although she snores. I’m just saying that my brain might be more important than her host of issues.

And lastly, my new favorite show on T.V. is Friday Night Lights. I was slow to start watching it because it came on Tuesday nights at the same time as Gilmore Girls and Dancing with the Stars and frankly, my DVR didn’t have the room. However, I recorded the Bravo marathon airing of Friday Night Lights over Christmas and got all caught up. Maybe it’s because I’m a Texas girl and I’ve spent many a Friday night at high school football games, but I love this show. Texas Monthly wrote this editorial on it talking about how they didn’t like it because it perpetuates Texas stereotypes. My thought was “Well, of course. That’s what makes it so good. I know these people.” Kyle Chandler as Coach Taylor has officially replaced Dr. McDreamy as my favorite character on T.V. If y’all aren’t watching, you’re missing out.

And so there, now y’all know the thoughts that have been keeping me up at night that I feel compelled to share. Hopefully this ice storm will end soon and I’ll actually be able to talk about something that isn’t happening on T.V. like you know…real life.

Y’all know that I spent part of my evening last night watching Grease, You’re the One that I Want. I’m not sure that it lived up to my expectations, but in my vast reality show watching experience, these shows tend to get better as the contestants get narrowed down.

For now, let me just say that there isn’t really a man alive who looks good in black jeans. It’s a hard look to pull off, even when you’re trying out for the role of Danny Zuko. But if you’re a male who is old enough to qualify for a Medicare Part D program and get the senior discount at Denny’s, then your days of wearing black jeans while singing Summer Lovin’ are over. That ship has sailed.

As for the Sandys in the group, as of now my favorite is the cute brunette with the cute little name like Jilly or Keely or something like that. Maybe it’s because I’d just once like to see one of my kindred brunette sisters get recognized as Sandy. It would be redemption for those years when Libba Fletcher told me I couldn’t possibly be Sandy because I had brown hair.

But I’m totally over it.

Of course if I had known that there was no age limit and if I could actually sing and/or dance, I would have flown out to L.A. to tryout. One huge factor that might have worked in my favor is that P actually ate dinner with Billy Bush about two years ago and while they didn’t become lifelong friends, Billy Bush did tell him at the end of dinner that he was a cool, (insert f word + ing) guy.

I’m just saying as the wife of that guy, it could have been my ticket to fame…or at least a chance to embarrass myself on national television.

There is a group of women that fall somewhere in the 30-40 year age range, who at one time in their childhood, were completely in love with the movie Grease. It’s okay to admit it.

Be proud, ladies. Be proud.

I know that for me, I dreamed of the day that I could be as cool as the Pink Ladies and hang out with the T-Birds. My friends and I spent whole afternoons re-enacting scenes from the movie and actually dressing up like Sandy. I’ll always remember a girl named Libba Fletcher, who lived down the street, trying to convince us that she looked more like Olivia Newton-John than the rest of us.

It never failed to start a huge debate because of course all of us wanted to look like Olivia and in reality, since we were about 6 or 7 years old, I don’t think any of us qualified, even though we had teased our hair, cut up our black Danskin leotards and paired them with our mama’s Candies to recreate the final scenes of the movie.

We would beg our mamas to take us to the theater to see it “just one more time” and we had it so completely memorized that we knew the first notes of Beauty School Dropout, which was a scene we didn’t care for, and we could make a run for more candy or popcorn because NO WAY were we missing Greased Lightning (which is a totally dirty song, but I didn’t figure that out until years later).

I had the Grease album on LP and 8 track and wore both of them out from listening all the time. I would lipsync in front of my mirror and dream of the day that I could be like Sandy. In fact, I think it was the summer before 4th grade when I had the brilliant idea that maybe I should wear dresses like Sandy to school everyday and on the last day of school, shock everyone by wearing my Jordache Jeans with my black t-shirt with the sparkly iron-on rainbow and my red satin jacket from Weiners, which looked just like the ones the Pink Ladies wore except it was you know…red and from Weiners.

So, in light of all these embarrassing revelations, imagine my excitement when I heard about the new reality show that starts January 7th called “You’re the One that I Want”. It is a reality show wherein contestants vie for the chance to play Sandy and Danny Zuko in the Broadway production of Grease.

It’s like a dream come true that combines my love of reality television with one of the greatest movies of all time.

I will be glued to the television come January 7th. In fact, I’ve got chills, they’re multiplying and I’m losing control.