I used to feel guilty when other people made me dinner, and so I’d volunteer to help out. It took me a while to realize that this only a benefit to the chef if the volunteer actually has some idea how to prepare food.

It’s not like I don’t know my way around a kitchen.  I happen to know that in most cases you can circumnavigate almost any kitchen and eventually locate a doorway that leads out to a room in which you can find the television.  I was born with these instincts; some people train their entire lives to gain such a degree of culinary skill.

Why did I try to help out in the kitchen? I’m a feminist, although it’s a male version of feminism so you know it roughly translates to “It’s bad form to put your feet up on a woman’s back and tap out your cigar ash on her head.” In any event, it was enough to make me wander into the kitchen and try to help.  For example, I always liked icing cakes as a kid.  So if I saw a stew or a casserole, the old culinary instinct would kick in and I’d slather them with frosting.  Or if I saw a soufflé that doesn’t seem perky enough, I’d jump up and down and shout “ARISE AND WAKEN, GREET THE NEW DAY.”

This all changed when I found out there’s no such thing as a “Good Samaritan” law for the kitchen. If you see a stranger in trouble and attempt to help out--for example, applying CPR--you’re protected from legal retaliation by the Good Samaritan law.  This apparently does not hold true in the kitchen. If you interfere with food in progress and the chef does not approve of your creative direction, the chef has the legal right to sue you and also brain you with a Williams-Sonoma garlic mincer.

Things are much better now.  I watch TV and then eat and the chef says “Thank you so much for helping out.  What you did made everything go so much more smoothly.” And I say “It was nothing.” To which the response is always “Exactly.  Thank you so, so much for doing absolutely nothing.  Otherwise we wouldn’t be eating.”

Former MTV VJ “Downtown” Julie Brown is suing the production company that created her short-lived reality show, I’m a Celebrity...Get me Out of Here!

Brown’s alleges that she suffered numerous bites and scarring from leeches, which were part of the show’s jungle setting.

Brown would be well advised to withdraw her suit.  It’s not in her best interests to set a precedent that one can be sued on account of sucking.

More Sunlight, Less Frost:  A woman learns how to grow turnips in her garden.

Executive: The true story of a successful, single, childless career woman who is spiritually and emotionally fulfilled.

Anti-Deflowered: A cheerleader courageously struggles to regain her virginity.

My Husband is a Cannibal

Mother, May I Sleep with Uncle?

This isn’t always the most confessional weblog in the world, but there’s exceptions to every rule, and today is one of those exceptions. I have something to tell you. I’m a functioning Cineaddict.

You may be familiar with the idea of a functioning drug addict or alcoholic--someone who definitely has a problem, but is able (for a time, at least) to hold a job, keep a family together, and simply let the problem seep around the cracks of his or her daily life, like a slow-acting poison.

Drugs and booze aren’t easy burdens to carry around, and as functioning a cineaddict, I have a similarly tough time.  Particularly when those around me begin to suspect the truth.

For example, I recently I met a friend who has long wondered if I have a problem.  She tried to test me:

“So, what do you say we go to the movies tonight?”

“Great.”

“What do you want to see?”

I shrugged in the most nonchalant way I could manage. “Whatever you want. I’m really up for anything.”

She looked at me suspiciously. “Really?  Even...Meet the Fockers?”

I blanched.  “Hey.  Sure. I think that would be fine. I mean, it’s okay to go to the movies just to see something ridiculous sometimes, right?”

“There’s nothing else you’d rather see?”

I was almost unaware aware of my response; my head filled with blinding light, like the glare from the sandy beach at the end of Shawshank Redemption.  Suddenly the words spilled out: “Well, House of Flying Daggers is about to hit second run theaters, and I’d like to catch it so I can understand whether the cinematography serves the story, as it did in Hero, or simply becomes a useless aesthetic exercise. Then there’s a showing of Touch of Evil, the restored version which makes Orson Wells’s use of shadows and textures so tangible that they almost seem to leap off the screen.”

I realized what I was saying and immediately stopped.  “Uh...but then again, I love Ben Stiller and his comic hijinks, too.”

She touched my arm, a gesture of sadness and compassion. “Greg...you’ve been watching DVDs alone again, haven’t you?”

I shook my head. “No. Absolutely not.  I consider movie watching a social activity.  It’s unhealthy to watch DVDs by yourself.”

Her expression said it all: No sale.

“Okay, fine, maybe one DVD in the evening. Hey, I work a lot and I get stressed, and I have the right to relax when I get home. What about it?”

“You know how easy it is to just say you’ll only watch one DVD, but the closet full of movies is right there, and before you know it one leads to two leads to three...”

I grimaced. “No, I can handle it.”

“Greg, I think it’s time to admit that you have a real problem, and that you need real help.  There are professionals who can lead you through the steps you need to become a healthy human being again.  Tell me, do you believe in a higher power?”

I looked at her, interested.  “You mean...David Lynch?”

- Hi, I’m here to talk to Selena.  She’s been helping me with my retiling project.

- She’s not here.

- But she knew I was coming in today.  Can you help me?  My last name’s Howard.

- Huh, your file isn’t where it should be.  She always puts paperwork in some place no one can get it, rather than alphabetically so other associates can help out her customers when she’s not around.

- But why would she--

- And sometimes she takes it home.

- What do you mean, she takes it home? Why would she take my paperwork home?  Do the measurements of my bathroom make for good recreational reading?

- Listen, you should ask her that question yourself.  I’m serious.  Ask her that, and then come find me and let me know.  I’m interested.  We all get pretty sick of it here.

- Look...can you just help me?  I need to move this project along.

- I’ll try, but it’s going to be difficult.

Three hours later I left Home Depot, with more questions about my project than answers, and I had a powerful spiritual vision of dazzling precision and clarity: I would ascend into the heavens like a God of fiery vengeance, and my hand would blaze with crimson glory, and I would smite all the people who work retail and don’t make commission and take that as an excuse to perform their work without the slightest degree of integrity, and I would grind their skin and bones into liquefied evil and use it to grout my tile.

In terms of things I’d do when becoming God, I might even prioritize that above “make it thunderstorm cappuccinos at 6 a.m. each morning.”

FAQ: All About the Audience Studies “Dads” videotape that you just received. (updated November 3, 2006)

Hi! Thanks for Googling “Audience Studies” or “Dads” or “Rocky LaPorte” or whatever you just Googled.  Here’s a FAQ that will give you the answers you seek!

Q: What the hell is “Audience Studies” and this videotape of “Dads” they just sent me?  Are they on the level?

A: It depends what you mean by “on the level.” Yes, they are a market research company.  However, they’re not interested in your opinion of the sit-com “Dads” starring C. Thomas Howell, Rue McClanahan, and a regrettably clothed Jane Sibbett. All they want to do is find out your opinion of the commercials on the videotape.  Audience Studies does market research on commercials, not TV shows.

You mean “Dads” doesn’t exist?
Oh, it existed.  It was a failed TV pilot back in 1997.  Here, I’ll prove it.  Audience Studies bought the rights to the pilot and now uses it to market research commercials by sending out the pilot to schlubs like yourself.  Their people will call you and ask a few gratuitous questions about the show, but most of the questions will be about the commercials.

So it’s kind of a scam.
Now you’ve got it!

Has anyone won their sweepstakes for participating in this sham?
I can’t say “no,” but I haven’t heard of anyone winning.

Will the tape really erase when I play it?
Yes, because there’s a magnet attached to the tape. If you remove the magnet, the tape won’t self-erase.  And you should do this, because then you can mail the tape to me and allow me to hold a “Dads” viewing party, like I’ve always wanted.  Seriously, this show is so bad that it makes Rocky Horror look like Citizen Kane.  It would make for a great party.

What should I do if I meet the CEO of Audience Studies on the street?
Twist his nose like a corkscrew.  We hates him!  Forever!

What should I do if I meet C. Thomas Howell on the street?
Point and laugh. Don’t worry--he’s used to it.

What should I do if I meet Jane Sibbett on the street?
Ask her if she’s a lesbian like her character on “Friends.” She loves that question.

Okay, I hope you found the answers to your questions.  Now feel free to read the original blog post below and enjoy its harmless comedy antics.  And enjoy the subsequent comments, some of which were left by actual Audience Studies telemarketers.  And if you enjoyed this public service, seriously--take the magnet off and mail me the videotape.  I’ll invite you to my “Dads” viewing party!

Your pal,
Geese Aplenty

I did something completely out of character the other day; I answered my land line.  People who know me call my cell.  But I had a strange compulsion to pick it up when it rang. My friend Frank was there, and she stared at me like I was an idiot while I carried on a conversation with someone I obviously didn’t know.

The end result was, I agreed to have a videotape mailed to me of a TV show pilot and give my opinions about it.

What else was I to do?  If only the right people had participated in prior audience studies, perhaps Twin Peaks wouldn’t have been cancelled.  Perhaps Seventh Heaven would be.

All it takes for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing.

Still, my heart sank when the videotape arrived and I looked at the title.  Dads.  That didn’t sound promising.

Except maybe it was a sequel to My Two Dads! That would be cool. Let’s say the cute daughter grew up, became an addict, and overdosed.  Torn apart by emotional anguish, Greg Evigan and Paul Reiser become bloodthirsty vigilantes who hunt and kill criminals.

Think of the tag line: “DADS.  This time...evil has been grounded.” I’d watch that show.

But no.  For one thing, Dads stars C. Thomas Howell.

For another, the concept makes me want to take a bath just thinking about it. Dads is an alleged situation comedy about three single fathers bringing up cute, well-adjusted children.  The plot of the show I watched dealt with one of the dads wanting to have his kid’s birthday party at his house, whereas his ex-wife wanted it at hers. 

This isn’t the Brady Bunch; these are seven year old kids.  There’s three sets of them, and they’re all dealing with being in a broken family. I don’t mean to get all Red State on you, but hello: I think there’s more important issues than a goddamn birthday party at stake in their lives.  Why is this concept funny?

Another thing: Jane Sibbett is in it.  I like Jane Sibbett. (You know her as Ross’s lesbian ex-wife on Friends.) But as the love interest to the Main Dad, she wasn’t given anything to do.  She was, if you’ll pardon the expression, the straight woman.

And then there’s Rue McClanahan.  Yes, she’s in it too.  In fact, the credits say “And Rue McClanahan as Dr. Neuhauser.” When you do the “And As” bit, it’s supposed to be for an actor you’re happy to have around.  Like “And William Shatner as Denny Crane.” You don’t do that with Rue McClanahan.  You say “And we grudgingly admit that we also cast Rue McClanahan because no one else would take the job.”

Rue McClanahan plays a single parent’s counselor.  She has a German accent.  Why? Because she’s strict and no-nonsense. Get it? Strict and stern personality=German.  You know when that stopped being funny? About TEN YEARS AFTER WORLD WAR II.

So anyway, I thought I’d share my answers to the evaluation form:

Which character did you like the best?
Jane Sibbett’s. Not because she was funny, but because I like her and having her there reminded me that there is, in the world, such things as jokes and comic timing, which I had almost forgotten by the time I finished watching this.

Which character did you like the least?
I don’t know.  I couldn’t tell the dads apart.  They were a huge land mass of indistinguishable Dad-ness. I didn’t like C. Thomas Howell much in Soul Man, if that counts.

Should there be equal elements of comedy and drama in the show?
There’s already an equal amount--zero--of each.

Should a message or lesson be included in each episode?
You mean, like realizing that by sitting through this, your life has gone horribly, horribly wrong?

If “Dads” becomes a regularly scheduled, half-hour situation comedy, would you watch?
I’d rather spend the next ten years in Abu Ghirab.

The good news: these sample videotapes erase themselves as you’re watching them,* and I’m pretty sure my copy took the careers of C. Thomas Howell, Rue McClanahan, and Jane Sibbett along with it.  Unfortunately, it also succeeded in erasing most of my brain cells.

Still, I did my part to prevent this monstrosity from ever reaching your televisions. I took one for the team.  You’re welcome.

*And yet, there’s nothing in the instructions that asks you not to make fun of the show on your web site.  Suckers.

It’s time for this year’s edition of Oscar the Grouch with a look at the Best Picture nominees:

The Aviator. I haven’t seen Martin Scorsese’s new one yet!  I’m very excited!  I love DeNiro! I love mobsters!  I love the gritty streets of...what’s that again?  No DeNiro?  No mobsters?  It’s about some crazy rich guy?  And it stars that 12-year old kid from Titanic?  Christ. What next, Scorsese?  A history of the frilly white parasol?  Loser.

Sideways.  Several wine companies have reported that this movie has significantly boosted sales of pinot noir.  Similarly, several restaurants have reported an increase in pudgy middle-aged men hanging out and trying to be waited on by Virginia Madsen.

Ray.  Although the movie touches upon Ray Charles’s rocky marriage and his battle with drugs, it primarily focuses on his undeniable artistic and commercial successes.  Missing from the film are the facts that he had a marriage prior to the one depicted in the film, that he divorced his second wife in 1977, and that he had more than one illegitimate child (he left behind a total of twelve children).  Apparently, however, all of this will be included in an upcoming “Director Cut the BS” edition.

Million Dollar Baby.  As it’s not possible to rant about this movie without spoiling key plot points, the following paragraph is in “inviso text” (swipe it with your cursor to read it):
When I was a kid, Clint Eastwood killed bad guys with guns.  These days he just kills girls in hospital beds.  Some say this is a career progression, but I say bite your tongue.  (But don’t do it hard enough to get blood on the sheets.  Clint hates that.)