Schwing!

The Vancouver Olympics end today after the men’s ice hockey finals this afternoon between Canada and the US. It’s been a wonderful two weeks for me with TV coverage on three different networks that I recorded on DVR, scanned at super fast forward and either viewed or erased. No ads, minimal fluff, no 10,000 K cross country skiing, but some amazing individual and team performances. To the credit of NBC, they kept the jingoism down, and though they are probably obliged to highlight the accomplishments of the US athletes, they gave plenty of time and credit to the host nation, Canada. There were two bits of fluff that I actually liked. The first told the story of Gander, the small town in Newfoundland that on 9/11/2001 took in all of the passengers from US bound flights that were diverted to eastern Canada when US airspace was closed down. The 10,000 citizens of Gander took in 7,000 passengers and crew, housed them, fed them, gave them emotional support and accepted no money in return.

The second was a piece on Canada’s many outstanding comedians. There’s Mike Myers, John Candy, Jim Carrey, the first for me; Dan Aykroyd, and loads more. Some say that the long Canadian winters induce a form of insanity that produces comedians. Others theorize that it’s the authoritative society that creates rebels that fight back with humor. I don’t buy that one. How many really funny people come out of Switzerland? Part of the answer, at least since 1977, is Lorne Michaels, the founder and producer of Saturday Night Live. He is from Toronto and no doubt sought to promote the careers of fellow Canadians. He didn’t make Rick Moranis and Eugene Levy funny but he did give them a forum for the development and broadcasting of their talents.

Despite the Olympics and all the hype surrounding it, the biggest sports story for me in the past two weeks came right out of New Haven, CT. The US collegiate team squash finals took place in a match between Trinity College and Yale. Trinity, the number 1 team in the US for the past 12 years, was led by senior, Baset Chaudhry, a 6’5’’ player from Lahore, Pakistan. Yale’s top player was a 5’8” freshman from Singapore, Kenneth Chan. Chaudhry has been the best player in the US for the past three years. He was undefeated this year and beat Chan handily in their previous meeting. According to his coach, he is an excellent student and a popular figure on campus. His parents came from Pakistan and were in New Haven to see his last team match. At the end of the match, which Chaudhry won in straight sets, he had a Serena-esque meltdown in which he physically confronted and verbally attacked his defeated opponent. The outburst was caught on tape and featured on ESPN’s Sports Center:

http://sports.espn.go.com/ncaa/news/story?id=4949438

The ESPN piece was presented by Merril Hoge, an ex-NFL running back, cancer survivor and motivational speaker. Hoge presented the frightening incident with a smirk and joked about the towering Chaudhry’s intimidation of Chan. As his co-commentators chuckled in the background, he quickly and condescendingly explained away the game of squash, and then went on to talk about buttocks seals and verbal spraying. The only reason the sport of squash received any national coverage was because one of its top players acted badly, one might say like a football player. Whereas antisocial behaviors such as fighting and trash talking are condoned or encouraged in many sports, they are not a part of squash which actually has Ethics Guidelines. To his credit, Chaudhry, once past the heat of battle, apologized to every team and coach in collegiate squash and ultimately punished himself by withdrawing from the national individual tournament, giving up his last chance to defend his two time championship. ESPN did not report this in follow-up.

Merril Hoge may see himself as a motivator who can help us “Find a Way” in life, but he and ESPN missed the boat on this one. We need to decide as a nation if the way to success includes behaviors that injure others and whether such behaviors such as drug use, bullying, trash talking, robbery, rape and murder are excusable in those who have achieved great success. Maybe we should just be a bit Canadian, include good deeds in our definition of success and learn to tell a good joke. Schwing!

I’ll Bring the Kleenex

I hope you readers took the time to view the last YouTube clip in my “What a Dog” blog. It showed the ingénue, Cameron Diaz, in the role of a nightclub performer who dropped men’s jaws and induced howls and whistles. An actress only gets to be an ingénue once, and Cameron made the most of it. I tried to divert your attention from her clinging, shimmering gold sequined dress to the sexily dubbed singing voice, but once she let her fingers play down the right side of that dress, who could notice the voice? Perhaps ingénue is not the correct word as it implies naiveté and innocence more than newness to acting. Lauren Bacall, 50 years earlier, was a similarly sultry ingénue in her first role as Slim in “To Have and Have Not”. She even taught her man, Humphrey Bogart, how to whistle:

You know you don't have to act with me, Steve. You don't have to say anything, and you don't have to do anything. Not a thing. Oh, maybe just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and... blow.

Diaz and Miss Bacall had similar beginnings. Cameron left the beaches of Southern California at the age of 16, signed on with an agency and spent the next five years as an international model. Bacall began modeling in New York City at the age of 17. She appeared on the cover of Harper’s Bazaar, was noticed by director Howard Hawk’s wife Nancy, was invited to Hollywood for a screen test and the rest is history. Nancy Hawk helped her develop her style in clothes and her trademark seductively low voice. Miss Bacall lured Humphrey Bogart from his wife all on her own.

Cameron went from temptress in The Mask to angel in the Charlie’s Angels movies. She played a ditzy blond on screen and began to play the potty mouthed bad girl off screen and in the Tabloids. I’m sure for her it seemed the right move, but can a woman who used Ben Stiller’s semen as hair mousse (Something About Mary) ever be taken as a serious actress? To her credit, when she doesn’t have to appear in a film, she does a great job. She is a perfect Princess Fiona in the Shrek movies. Sweetness with an edge, and a tolerance for us donkeys.

In my house, Cameron Diaz is best known for one of her lines from Charlie’s Angels, “I love tickets”, which she delivered in response to a potential suitor’s line, “I’ll get tickets”. Though endlessly repeating movie lines is a decidedly male annoyance, even the women in my family will almost smile when I respond, “I love tickets”. And I do, both repeat the line and love tickets. Have you noticed that many of my blogs make references to movies?

Some of my love of the movies is genetic. My father grew up in the pre-TV era and would spend all afternoon Saturdays at the movies for a quarter. The Brooklyn theaters would have serials, Flash Gordon and the like, newsreels, a double feature and contests with prizes for the kids. My maternal grandfather, Julius Davis, loved movies and would laugh and weep audibly, a strange sight for a ten year old me to witness in a public Manhattan theater. My grandmother Florence, who was a very controlling and in control woman, explained that he cried because he had strong emotions that just came out at the movies. Their's was an old world marriage. He practiced medicine, sat in his chair and read newspapers and journals. She managed the home, help, children, social calendar, vacations…basically everything and everyone else. She was always very protective of him. We had to be quiet during his daily nap. We couldn’t sit in his chair. My aunt Dorothy wouldn’t eat lox because my grandparents threatened to put locks on the door if she kept going into my grandfather’s office. After his second heart attack Florence stayed home with him for three months. When she finally thought he was well enough to be home without her, she went out to join her sisters for their weekly card game. He was not home when she returned. A panic followed. The police found him that night in a city hospital morgue. He had been found dead in the back row of a Broadway movie theater. We’ll never know the whole story. No doubt he took advantage of my grandmother’s afternoon out to take a walk on a beautiful summer day. One possible scenario: he developed chest pain and ducked into an air conditioned movie theater to sit down and rest. A second scenario: he liked movies but the one he chose was too much for his weak heart. Either way, he died in a place where his feelings could be freely and openly expressed. I express mine there too. Join me sometime. You can buy the popcorn. I’ll bring the Kleenex.