Occasional Blond

Burn Notice: Michael Westen (Jeffrey Donovan) is a spy for the US government who gets burned, meaning he's been dropped by the Feds and become persona no grata. His finances have been frozen, no one will tell him why he's been burned, and he's stuck in his hometown of Miami. Unfortunately for Michael, his family is also there. Madeline (Sharon Gless, in all her fabulousness) is Michael's smoking, drinking, poker playing mom, and one after my own heart. She loves her son, but their communication is bad. I think she doesn't actually know what Michael did for a living, but she's smart enough to know it's shady. She's mad at him because he went on a trip and didn't come back for ten years. He just wants her to stay out of his business, for his sanity and her safety. It's not an original role or relationship, but Gless and Donovan make it believable.

Michael has a brother, Nate (Seth Peterson), a get rich quick guy whose relationship with Michael is also strained at times. He was a minor character in the first season, and so far, he's not particularly interesting on his own. Michael's father is absent and has been for a long time. Whether he's dead or he ran off, I'm not sure.

Also in Miama are Fiona (Gabrielle Anwar, who needs to eat about a dozen burgers), his crazy, trigger-happy ex-girlfriend; and Sam, Michael's old friend, an ex spy who saves his own ass by reporting on Michael to the FBI, much to Michael's irritation. They work with him on his weekly "saving some poor schlub from financial ruin/being killed/general disaster" cases that bring in a little cash. 

I haven't decided what I think about Fiona. She can totally take care of herself, and even though I find guns abhorrent in real life, I always love a female character who knows her way around them. There's no gun she can't shoot, and no bad guy who's safe from her. But she's presumptuous about her place in Michael's life, and seems to forget about that "ex" in front of the word "girlfriend". This is, of course, because she still loves him. I know. Big surprise. Other big surprise? He still loves her too. But, you know, they just can't work it out. This could be yet another annoying and done to death plot device, but Donovan and Anwar make it better than it should be. (As a side note, sometime during the first season, Anwar dropped Fiona's Irish accent. It's probably a blessing, because it was really bad. But still. Where did it go?)

And then there's Sam, who is played by none other than Bruce Campbell, that b-movie cult figure who deserves all the adoration he gets. (It's been said that he's not playing Sam, he's playing Bruce Campbell. Which...come on.. I hope that wasn't a complaint.) Sam's retired and just wants to have a good time and get by. If that means he has to rat out his best friend on occasion, he can live with that. He's as loyal to Michael as he can be. To that end, he promised Michael he would only feed the FBI enough information to keep them off everyone's backs.

The Case of the Week is just that. Michael finds out about someone who's in trouble and, through a series of actions that would get pretty much anyone killed if they were performed by real, live actual people, beats the bad guys. Drama, violence and humor ensue.

Semi-spoiler alert: By  the end of the first season, Michael had gotten closer to figuring out burned him, and knows they have a job for him. In the second season opener, we discover his handler is portrayed by Tricia Helfer, former model and the most badass robot ever.

As a bonus, they blow up a lot of shit.

Watch it. The second season premiere was Thursday, July 10. USA Network, Thursdays, 10:00 PM, with repeats throughout the week.

From Monty Python, of course:

Man#2 (Graham Chapman): Grand meal, that was, eh?

Others: Yes, wonderful, yes very good..

Man#2: Nothing like a good glass of Chateau le Shlasseler, eh, Guissay?

Man#3 (Terry Jones): Oh, you're right there, Robidaier.

Man#4 (Eric Idle): Who'd 'ave thought, thirty year ago, we'd all be sitting here drinking Chateau de Shlasseler, eh?

Man#1 (Michael Palin): Aye, in them days we was glad to have the price of a cup of tea!

Man#2: Aye, a cup of cold tea!

Man#4: Without milk or sugar!

Man#3: Or tea!

Man#1: Aye, in a cracked cup and all!

Man#4: Oh, we never had a cup. We used to have to drink out of a rolled-up newspaper!

Man#2: Aye, the best we could manage in those days was to suck on a piece of damp cloth!

Man#3: Aye, but we were happy in those days, though we were poor.

Man#1: Because we were poor! My old dad used to say to me: Money doesn't buy you happiness!

Man#4: Aye, he was right, I was happier then and I had nothing. We used to live in this tiny old house with great big holes in the roof.

Man#2: House! You were lucky to live in a house! We had to all live in one room, all twenty-six of us, no furniture, half the floor was missing, and were all huddled together in a corner for fear of falling!

Man#3: You were lucky to have a room! We used to 'ave to live in a corridor!

Man#1: Oh, we used to DREAM of living in a corridor. It would have been a palace to us. We used to have to live in an old water tank in a rubbish pit. We got woke up every morning by having a load of rotting fish dumped all over us! House! Huh!

Man#4: Well, when I say house, it was only a hole in the ground covered by a sheet of tarpaulin, but it was a house to us!

Man#2: We were evicted from our hole in the ground. We had to go and live in a lake!

Man#3: You were lucky to have a lake! There were a hundred and fifty of us, living in a shoebox in the middle of the road!

Man#1: Cardboard box?

Man#3: Aye!

Man#1: You were lucky. We lived for three months in a paper bag in a septic tank. We used to have to get up at six in the morning, clean the paper bag, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work down at the mill, fourteen hours a day, week in, week out, for sixpence a week, and when we got home, our dad would thrash us to sleep with his belt.

(slight pause)

Man#2: Luxury. We used to have to get out of the lake at six o'clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of damp gravel, work a twenty-hour day at the mill for tuppence a month, and when we got home, our dad would thrash us to sleep with a broken bottle, if we were lucky!

Man#3: Well, of course, we 'ad it tough! We used to have to get up out of the shoebox at twelve o'clock at night, and lick the road clean with our tongue. We 'ad two bits of cold gravel, and worked a twenty-four hour day at the mill for six or seventy-four years, and when we got home, our dad would slash it to us with a bread knife.

Man#4: Right. I had to get up at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, drink a cup of sulphuric acid, work twenty-nine hours a day down at the mill and pay the mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our mother and father would kill us and dance on our graves singing Halleluja.

Man#1: Aye, and you try telling young people of today that. And they won't believe you.

Man#4: Aye, they won't!

Brenda Leigh Johnson (Kyra Sedgwick) is a Georgia transplant working as Deputy Chief of the Priority Homicide Division in the LA police department.  Assistant Chief of Police Will Pope (J.K. Simmons) is her boss, with whom Brenda was previously involved. Adultery! He's still in love with her. Yes, big surprise. To my relief, she's not quite so enamored of him.

Brenda is temperamental, petulant, demanding and pushy. Departmental cuts and layoffs are for other divisions. Her parents, her boyfriend Fritz (Jon Tenney), and the general happiness of her employees are third to the job. Her cat Kitty, is an unsteady second.

She often refuses to admit she's wrong, and seldom apologizes. What makes her so special as a cop is her unrivaled ability to close a case. (I'd say that Pembleton from Homicide: Life on the Street was a much more riveting interrogator, but that show and The Closer are miles apart. Brenda is unrivaled on the show, not in all of television history.) When she interrogates a suspect, she's a velvet steamroller, using southern charm and  fake sympathy to nail the bastard. Her trademark "thank you" is withering, making anyone from a suspect to a superior feel like they've just been chastised by the school principal.

What makes Brenda so special as a woman is how real she is. She has a mind like a steel trap at work, but her house and her hair are a mess, her purse is a disaster, and she has questionable taste in clothing. She has a weakness for sweets that borders on crazy, she can't cook and she lacks certain social skills. But when Kitty disappeared she actually considered leaving the office to look for her. She's independent but also a daddy's girl. She had an affair with her married boss, coming out the other end scarred but not ruined.

I don't always like Brenda. She's unreasonable and often treats the people around her like underlings. She doesn't understand that other people have a different view or different needs. She forgets that Fritz is possibly the best boyfriend ever. But when she's on a case, her heart is always with the victim and the family. That's why she's so intractable when solving a murder.

And she loves Fritz. Hell, how could she not? He knows her inside and out and still thinks she's the cat's ass. And, Great Holy Mary Mother of God, look at  him. What's not to love?

It's no surprised that things didn't start off well for Brenda when she showed up in LA. Her six-member team is made up of five men and one woman. The men didn't like her because she was an outsider and a woman. Daniels, the only woman, didn't have much to say (she still doesn't, which bugs me to no end. Why is it that the only other female character on the show is never given anything to do?), but her ambivalence was pretty clear, both about the way the men felt about Brenda and about Brenda even being there. (and I give Gina Ravera big props for being able to convey that ambivalence with nothing but a glance). The men on the team put her through the wringer, but by the end of the first season, even Brenda's biggest tormentor, Lt. Flynn, who tried more than once to get embarrass her and get he fired, was ready to take a bullet for her.

The guys on the team are well characterized, much more so than one would expect from these descriptions:  Provenza (G.W. Bailey, who I've loved since I first saw him on MASH.), the not-too-far-from-retirement Lt. Detective who has forgotten more than most cops will ever know, and who I think my mother wants to marry; Detective Andy Flynn, who, despite his change in attitude about Brenda, is still a loudmouth and a jackass; Mike Tao, the highly educated and brilliant Lt. Detective who will take 100 words to explain something when 10 will do; Detective Julio Sanchez, a dark horse (as a friend recently described him) who you'd want with you if you were in an alley at night; and Sgt. David Gabriel, an ambitious young cop who has been Brenda's right arm from the start.

Anyone familiar with J.K. Simmons' work should already know that he always get it right as Assistant Chief Pope. Has he ever gotten it wrong in any role? I won't say that Simmons is under-appreciated, because he's certainly established himself as a respected actor; but I will say that he should be a much bigger star than he is. Pope (the guys call his office The Vatican) is man both frustrated and taken with Brenda. His affection for her as a former girlfriend and respect for her as a cop are apparent, and he's always caught between the requirements of a  bureaucracy and what Brenda demands. Fritz knows her better, but Pope knows how to handle her. And more than anyone else on the show, he's his own person, not just a reflection of Brenda.

As with In Plain Sight, and most summer procedurals, The Closer's Story of the Week is minor compared to the characters. Because it's always about murder, there's a lot of drama, but it can also be hilarious (last year Brenda got into a physical fight with an angry bride, and ended up the "most downloaded woman on the internet").

I've seen the first and third seasons of The Closer, and a few episodes from the second season which, for some unknown reason, none of the rental stores in Durham carry. It's fun, it can be a little gruesome, and it has a great cast of actors and characters.
 
Watch it. Mondays, TNT, 9:00PM, with repeats throughout the week.

Over the last few years, summer television has morphed into something other than repeats of shows from the previous season. Cable television has taken the lead in this, and it's putting out some great stuff. One of the things I like about these summer series is they're generally limited to about 13 episodes, which gives them a lot less room to fuck around and give us a crappy hour of television in any given week (unless the entire show sucks). The story for that year has to be told quickly and efficiently.

I'll be doing entries on several summer shows I love; and one entry on a few shows I'm not that fond of, and why.

In Plain Sight: Mary Shannon (Mary McCormack) and Marshall Mann (Fred Weller) are agents for the Witness Protection Program. Like most crime shows, it follows a formula of sorts. In Plain Sight has the Witness of the Week, and, considering it serves as the MacGuffin, most of the witnesses have been surprisingly well developed. Each episode starts with a short flashback explaining how the witness ended up in The Program, and throughout we watch as Mary handles whatever crisis comes up, whether it's getting the witness into The Program, or keeping them safe while they're there. Sometimes it's mostly dramatic ( as in the episode of the little boy whose mother was murdered in front of him), and sometimes it's a mix of drama and comedy (the guy who brings both his wife and his girlfriend into the Program with him).

Along with the Witness of the Week, we're subjected to Mary's mother Jinx, and her sister Brandi, both of whom I want to smack every time they show up. Lesley Anne Warren plays Jinx as a lazy, stupid, drunken user. There's a way to portray this kind of character and still have her be sympathetic, but I'm not sure Warren is up to it. Brandi (Nichole Hiltz), with a lousy (and blessedly unseen) boyfriend and a seeming propensity for petty crime, isn't much better, but there's a hint of a good back story on her involving a suitcase full of drugs. If they want to save the character, they need to get to that. She doesn't have to be likable. I just want her to be interesting.

Mary is the heart of the show. She has the hard edge we usually see in women on crime shows. As good as she is at her job, her personal life is a mess. Her mother and sister take advantage of her, including living in her house rent-free. Her boyfriend Raphael, (Christian de la Fuente) is crazy about her, but she's unwilling to open up and admit she cares about him. Not original, I know, but McCormack seldom misses as a woman confused about what she wants out of life.

What makes In Plain Sight special is how well McCormack and Weller work together. Whether they're doing a comic or a dramatic scene, they seem like real people who like each other, even though they have entirely different personalities. It's not a buddy show. And I am constantly thankful that there's no undercurrent of Unfulfilled Sexual Tension. When Marshall tells Mary that she's his only friend, it really feels like friendship is what their relationship is about.

I love this show. Watch it. USA Network, Sundays, 10:00 PM, with numerous repeats through the week.

Catherine Tate. Until now, I've only seen her as Donna, The Doctor's current companion on Dr. Who.

Flip-flops don't make good walking shoes. Someone actually got money to research this. I could have told them the same  thing. 

It's been two days since Jesse Helms died, and I'm still grappling with what to say about him. Speaking ill of the dead is generally considered bad form, so I've pretty much been keeping my mouth shut. I don't want to be part of anything that could upset his family, even if I'm doing it anonymously. I mean, I seriously doubt his wife and children read this. But it makes me feel unkind to say "good riddance".

Most of the people I know aren't mourning his death. A few are closer to celebrating. I get why "good riddance" are the exact words a friend used when she sent me a link to a news story about his death. Helms was a bigot, and a dangerous man.

His supporters called him a patriot. Ted Rall says better than I can why that isn't true. (It's the blog entry entitled "Jesse Helms, Rest in Pieces".)

On a message board I frequent, a fellow poster and native North Carolinian had this to say:

Leave it to ole Jesse to die on the 4th of July. Even though he's been out of the public eye for several years now, his shadow has loomed over my state for so long that it's hard to believe he's gone.

I hope God looks kindly on Helms. Like Falwell and Reagan, he probably needs as much of God's mercy as he can get.

I make no claim to being a militant environmentalist. Even during the worst of the drought, we never stopped flushing the toilet. But I do what I can. I've alway been conscious of water use, other than the toilet flushing thing. I use leftover water on my plants, including ice cubes from drinking glasses. I generally shower every other day, and will go days without washing my hair. What? Y'all know I don't leave the house for days at a time. Besides, in addition to wasting water and energy, washing your hair every day dries it out.
 
I turn off the lights when I leave a room, run the dishwasher only when it's full and do laundry only when there's a large load of clothes. The air conditioner usually doesn't get turned on until late in the afternoon, and we keep it set at 81 degrees. We're lucky enough to not have to use much gas. We can walk to the corner store if we need just a few things. (King's Red and White represent!) So I'm not saving the earth, but I'm trying to do something in my little part of the world.

A few months ago I finally managed to get some clothes lines hung up in our yard, and I've been hanging the clothes out to dry. I still use the dryer a little, because I like to soften the clothes and remove any pollen or other icky stuff that may have collected on the laundry. However, that only takes about ten minutes per load, as opposed to at least an hour for clothes, and up to two hours for towels. This saves a lot money and energy, and has the added benefit of not making the kitchen (where the washer and dryer are) any damned hotter than it already is.

Taking it a step further, we've been making our own laundry detergent. It takes a little time, but time is one thing I have. Seriously, I have to fill my day with something besides Law & Order reruns. Here's the recipe:

Since everyone and their brother has been writing about this, and sending links to me, I guess I'll address it:

This is the most ridiculous non-story to hit the media since Liz Taylor got married for the 7000th time. Rachael Ray wore a scarf. Michelle Malkin is a loon. Oh my God, I don't give a fuck.

Comments are welcome, but if it gets ugly, you'll be shut down. No talking about anyone's mama, OK?

Lazy. I'm lazy. And apparently feeling uninspired.

I've been kind of drugged out of late. I'm not really feeling much better since the implant surgery. That's partly because the leads shifted while I was healing. So in addition to degenerative disc disease, I also have a nagging pain in the middle of my back. I'm being treated for the pain, and it has helped cut down on the frequency and intensity, but it's still there, nagging away. I've finally turned to pain killers. Hydrocodone does one hell of a job, but it makes me tired and lazy, and sometimes sick. I believe "blech" is the appropriate word.

I catered a rehearsal dinner last month. Y'all know how much I love to entertain, but I was feeling a little extra pressure, as it wasn't just a party for my friends. I don't usually get freaked out, and I managed to keep my cool (thank God for spreadsheets. They are my savior). The menu was simple - lasagna, Italian sausage in red sauce, Swedish meatballs, a salad of greens, oranges, feta cheese and pine nuts, and chocolate chocolate chip cookies, pound cake and sugar palmieres for dessert. I couldn't have done it without the help of both JP and one of my best friends. It was fun and tiring and I took me over a week to recover. But I got a marriage proposal out of it. The fact that it was from a woman didn't make it any less thrilling.

JP and I are thinking about going to Italy next year for our 15th anniversary. I'd like to study Italian beforehand. Knowing how to say "what the fuck" in more than one language is vital.

Maybe it's the drugs, but I'm feeling hopeful and content today. I've always felt that, even in my bad luck, I've been luckier than most. I  can't predict how I'll feel tomorrow, but right now, I'm thankful for everything I have.