At 89, Arthur Miller had been dating a woman 34 years old (55 years his junior), reminiscing about life, and was acerbic and still recalling the many high points of his life. He was also receiving treatments for some type of cancer which, today, claimed its victory.
Some of his notable achievements: a Pulitzer-winning playwright, who penned, among other classics, Death of A Salesman (which opened in 1949) and The Crucible, the latter an allegory inspired by the witch hunt that was McCarthyism. Miller not only resisted the pressure to point fingers at his colleagues: he lambasted the House Committee on Un-American Activities and responded with The Crucible, a play set among the lunacy that was the Salem Witch Trials, and which was a thinly-veiled allegory of (then) contemporary America.
In addition to his plays, Miller married Marilyn Monroe, although as he later admitted, "all my energy and attention were devoted to trying to help her solve her problems. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much success."
Like George Orwell's Animal Farm and Leon Uris's Mila 18, both The Crucible and Death of A Salesman not only exemplify excellence in craft, they effortlessly manage to entertain on a number of levels, depending on when the reader/viewer absorbs the material. Specifically, The Crucible, on its surface, is a tale about Salem's residents and the hysteria, fear and accusations which tear apart a peaceful, friendly town. Against the backdrop of Joseph McCarthy's branding of a variety of Americans as Communists, however, the play serves to remind the reader/viewer that the political climate in this country at the time was as chaotic, pernicious and paranoid as was the climate of Salem in the era of "The Witches."
Death of A Salesman purports to be a story about Willy Loman's fading life and dreams, but with Willy's decline, so Miller portrays the story of the American Dream against the onset of competition, modernization, technology and obsolescence. Like Upton Sinclair's The Jungle, but on a much smaller scale, Death of A Salesman peels back the shiny coat of Americana that invited tens of thousands to instant success on these shores and portrays the reality of what many failed to notice, and what many more were unwilling to acknowledge.
At 89, Miller had achieved all, or almost all, the recognition a playwright could achieve, and his life was "well-lived" and long. Yet knowing he is gone still serves to remind us that his craft, his focus and his creativity might be equaled but never surpassed.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Live Strong, but first, Live Smart
Here at The House of Boogie, we occasionally call out those businesses which we feel are worthy of our business; hence the BoogieLinks to your lower left, which list some businesses with which we have dealt in the past and, as a result, which we can recommend.
Unfortunately, there are those which demonstrate ineptitude, incompetence and disorganization -- and, in answer to your first question, no, we're not referring to the government. There are companies like Playcentric, which manage to screw up every order they receive (they are, after all, located in Buffalo, NY) and there are companies like Buy.com, which go to great lengths to demonstrate the very definition of incompetence. There are, thankfully, some companies as bulletproof as it gets (ie Amazon.com -- none better). So the debate remains: if you order a bunch of crap and it gets to you, but in a delayed manner, without any customer support of any kind, is that business one which should keep you as a customer?
What follows is an excerpt of an e-mail I received today from The Lance Armstrong Foundation. I ordered a ten-pack of those yellow LiveStrong bracelets around the time my father went into the hospital, which was mid-August. They advised it would take six or so weeks to ship the bracelets, which, for ten small circles of rubber packed in little plastic bags and weighing an ounce apiece, I found to be a tad excessive. On top of the per-bracelet charge of $1, they charged me a $5 shipping/handling fee for the entire order. So six weeks, minimum, to get ten little rubber circles.
I would have said the hell with it but Niketown stopped selling them and it was for charity. So I went ahead with the order.
Six weeks later, nothing. No contact, no nothing. A friend of mine who I'd promised a bracelet mentioned them to me so I checked -- nothing newsworthy online at the site. So I e-mailed. And I got no response.
Eventually (another three weeks) the bracelets came. I was simply overjoyed at the bounty I'd received, packed into a soiled manilla envelope, crushed into a rectangular form as dictated by my mailbox. My wait was well worth it; the bracelets were distributed among friends and relatives without delay, and all was good. I will admit I laughed every time someone asked me about getting more, and explained how impressed I was with the LAF's (nonexistent) customer service.
Fast forward four months later, to this evening. I opened my e-mail and, behold and lo, this nugget of information which really put me at ease:
This company, which is the only legitimate place to purchase the yellow LiveStrong bracelets, which probably has my credit card info somewhere in their messy, disorganized, chaotic file room (or on their equally disheveled servers) actually managed to wait three months to e-mail me in order to advise me my order had shipped. Brilliant!The LAF Store-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Order Number: 22xxxx
Date Ordered: 2004-10-06 20:36:00
Ship Date: 2004-11-08
Order Information Update:
Thank you for ordering from the LAF Store! Your order has been
processed and is being shipped based upon the shipping method you selected
during the order process.Order status: ShippedYour order was shipped on:
2004-11-08If you would like to make an additional donation, please go
to: https://secure.laf.org/Donations/donate_amount.cfmIf you have any questions about your order, please use the
Contact Us page on the website, and we will answer you promptly.Sincerely,The LAF Store
They didn't bother to verify I'd gotten my order, they didn't bother to respond to the e-mail I'd sent to them four months ago, and they didn't bother to check in which state I'd filed a Better Business Bureau claim against them.
I highly recommend a visit to Chinatown to purchase these bracelets from any street vendor that sells them. Forget the fact that they will not be items from which the sale's proceeds will go to charity; forget the fact that the person selling you the bracelet won't likely know any english beyond the numbers and the conversion rates for dollars into a number of international currencies; and forget the fact that they're blatant, illegal duplicates of a legitimate product.
You won't have to wait over two months to get an wrinkled envelope of ten rubber yellow circles and you won't have to wait six months to get an e-mail which feels like a "golden oldie."
Incidentally, as much as I like supporting charities, I am not only opposed to supporting the LAF, if my experience with that organization's website is not atypical, I would cringe to ponder how my money was being misused and mishandled, much like this order was.
http://www.laf.org/
Caveat Emptor.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Going The Extra Mile For A Client, Going to Prison
Lynne Stewart, the melon-coiffed attorney who was, at one time, the attorney representing Sheik Omar Abdel-Rahman, the cleric who was convicted of conspiring to bomb a variety of New York landmarks, including the Lincoln Tunnel, was today convicted of aiding and abetting terrorists and other charges, including conspiracy to defraud the United States, providing and concealing material support, and making false statements. Her co-defendants, paralegal Ahmed Abdel Sattar and Arabic interpreter Mohamed Yousry, were each convicted on three similar counts.
Things are not always simple, but in this particular case, they are.
Stewart is not your average attorney. She's represented a variety of scumbags, like most defense attorneys, but has simultaneously gone on record, and advised the jury, that she advocated violent "revolution of the people that overthrow institutions." Just the thing to tell a jury of middle-America looking to hang anyone who even remotely hints at the support of terrorists. Apparently, the case against Stewart and her co-defendants hinged on a particular visit she made to a maximum-security prison in Minnesota to confer with her client, Rahman, during which, surveillance video shows, he distracted prison guards so they would not notice her then-associates discussing actions and instructions for Rahman's followers (ie radical muslims) in Egypt, where he advocated overthrowing the government.
Her defense, of course, was to suggest that the government's case was politically motivated.
For a lawyer, her defense was less than stellar.
Her comments, post conviction, focused on her actions: "I feel so much that I have brought grief to people who didn't deserve to have grief," she said. "But I'd like to think I would do it again, because it was the right thing to do. It's the way a lawyer is supposed to behave."
All defendants, guilty or not, deserve and are entitled to representation; but when an attorney actively assists in the violation of laws and manipulates and corrupts the attorney-client privilege to further the breaking of laws, that's generally something that the American Bar Association, and the US government, frown upon. And it's specifically the way a lawyer is not supposed to behave.
CNN's article is located at http://www.cnn.com/2005/LAW/02/10/terror.trial.lawyer/index.html.
Things are not always simple, but in this particular case, they are.
Stewart is not your average attorney. She's represented a variety of scumbags, like most defense attorneys, but has simultaneously gone on record, and advised the jury, that she advocated violent "revolution of the people that overthrow institutions." Just the thing to tell a jury of middle-America looking to hang anyone who even remotely hints at the support of terrorists. Apparently, the case against Stewart and her co-defendants hinged on a particular visit she made to a maximum-security prison in Minnesota to confer with her client, Rahman, during which, surveillance video shows, he distracted prison guards so they would not notice her then-associates discussing actions and instructions for Rahman's followers (ie radical muslims) in Egypt, where he advocated overthrowing the government.
Her defense, of course, was to suggest that the government's case was politically motivated.
For a lawyer, her defense was less than stellar.
Her comments, post conviction, focused on her actions: "I feel so much that I have brought grief to people who didn't deserve to have grief," she said. "But I'd like to think I would do it again, because it was the right thing to do. It's the way a lawyer is supposed to behave."
All defendants, guilty or not, deserve and are entitled to representation; but when an attorney actively assists in the violation of laws and manipulates and corrupts the attorney-client privilege to further the breaking of laws, that's generally something that the American Bar Association, and the US government, frown upon. And it's specifically the way a lawyer is not supposed to behave.
CNN's article is located at http://www.cnn.com/2005/LAW/02/10/terror.trial.lawyer/index.html.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
The Smell of Cupid & Commerce
So February 14th is coming up on the calendar faster than John Q. Law in your rear-view mirror as you finish your third beer doing 120 in a stolen Ferrari. You don't say...well, Dr. Boogie has some advice on what you can do to avoid getting a swift kick from a fuck-me pump in your caboose.
The worst gifts, as per usual, always include (and are not limited to) appliances (vacuums and cooking acoutrements), plants (as opposed to flowers), and anything hardware-related (other than platinum, diamonds, gold and silver, natch).
Blue Nile's Top 10 Worst Gifts:
10. Vacuum
9. Paper Shredder
8. Electric Frying Pan
7. Crock-pot
6. Rug shampooer
5. Pencil sharpener
4. Ice scraper
3. Can of soup
2. Wisconsin cheese
1. Cold pizza
Cold pizza, of course, is a lousy V-Day gift, but if all goes well, it can be a great morning-after-V-Day gift, especially if your other half, like mine, loves cold pizza. Wokka wokka ;-)
Now for the most part, I think Valentine's Day should be from the heart (no pun intended), so giving a gift out of obligation is a sign of storm clouds on the horizon. If you're unable to procure that two-tone Cartier she's been wanting, it's one thing: but if giving her flowers and other items of romantica is a bothersome chore for you, it's time to move on. If she's an alumnus of Alabama and she loves Crimson Tide football, arranging a weekend to see them take on a rival school, at home, isn't an awful gift -- it's thoughtful -- so that's not so bad. But buying power tools instead of jewelry, no matter the dollars involved, is a recipe for disaster that will result in nothing but a sour taste that will last for days, if you're lucky.
The whole idea of Valentine's Day is to treat your significant other like the most important thing in your life, especially if he/she is; even if you try to do so every day of the year, February 14th is a nice opportunity to remind your SO how you feel. It's also an equally useful time to take stock of your own feelings for him/her and remind yourself why you're with him/her in the first place.
So if you're coasting through Bed Bath and Beyond and are thinking a pot rack would be a nice gift for V-Day, think again, and think of that high heel lodged somewhere that will require a (sic) crack surgeon to remove.
Oh, one final word of advice: buying a woman anything remotely having to do with exercise as a Valentine's Day gift will result in you doing some special hand exercises of your own. Proceed at your own risk.
As for Valentine's Day itself, dinner can be anything, from a local place with good wine and lighting to a full-on monster palace of sumptuous, luxurious foodstuffs; just make sure it's something special and that you let your other half know that you enjoy being with him/her. Going through the motions is a waste of time, and while plenty of people would rather do that than acknowledge how fucked-up going through the motions is, they aren't willing to wake themselves out of the slumber known as Real Life and revisit why they are with their SO in the first place.
And if for nothing else, it gives us a chance to thank the women in our lives for being there, for being wonderful, and for reminding us that, without them, life would suck. Drama-free, perhaps...but it would still, nonetheless, suck.
Good luck.
And stay away from Black and Decker until it comes time to re-do the garage.
The worst gifts, as per usual, always include (and are not limited to) appliances (vacuums and cooking acoutrements), plants (as opposed to flowers), and anything hardware-related (other than platinum, diamonds, gold and silver, natch).
Blue Nile's Top 10 Worst Gifts:
10. Vacuum
9. Paper Shredder
8. Electric Frying Pan
7. Crock-pot
6. Rug shampooer
5. Pencil sharpener
4. Ice scraper
3. Can of soup
2. Wisconsin cheese
1. Cold pizza
Cold pizza, of course, is a lousy V-Day gift, but if all goes well, it can be a great morning-after-V-Day gift, especially if your other half, like mine, loves cold pizza. Wokka wokka ;-)
Now for the most part, I think Valentine's Day should be from the heart (no pun intended), so giving a gift out of obligation is a sign of storm clouds on the horizon. If you're unable to procure that two-tone Cartier she's been wanting, it's one thing: but if giving her flowers and other items of romantica is a bothersome chore for you, it's time to move on. If she's an alumnus of Alabama and she loves Crimson Tide football, arranging a weekend to see them take on a rival school, at home, isn't an awful gift -- it's thoughtful -- so that's not so bad. But buying power tools instead of jewelry, no matter the dollars involved, is a recipe for disaster that will result in nothing but a sour taste that will last for days, if you're lucky.
The whole idea of Valentine's Day is to treat your significant other like the most important thing in your life, especially if he/she is; even if you try to do so every day of the year, February 14th is a nice opportunity to remind your SO how you feel. It's also an equally useful time to take stock of your own feelings for him/her and remind yourself why you're with him/her in the first place.
So if you're coasting through Bed Bath and Beyond and are thinking a pot rack would be a nice gift for V-Day, think again, and think of that high heel lodged somewhere that will require a (sic) crack surgeon to remove.
Oh, one final word of advice: buying a woman anything remotely having to do with exercise as a Valentine's Day gift will result in you doing some special hand exercises of your own. Proceed at your own risk.
As for Valentine's Day itself, dinner can be anything, from a local place with good wine and lighting to a full-on monster palace of sumptuous, luxurious foodstuffs; just make sure it's something special and that you let your other half know that you enjoy being with him/her. Going through the motions is a waste of time, and while plenty of people would rather do that than acknowledge how fucked-up going through the motions is, they aren't willing to wake themselves out of the slumber known as Real Life and revisit why they are with their SO in the first place.
And if for nothing else, it gives us a chance to thank the women in our lives for being there, for being wonderful, and for reminding us that, without them, life would suck. Drama-free, perhaps...but it would still, nonetheless, suck.
Good luck.
And stay away from Black and Decker until it comes time to re-do the garage.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
"Spartan"
Movies are sometimes a worthy substitute for reality; escapism, entertainment, a cure for boredom, a way to laugh or to fill in the spaces between. Then there are movies that are dark, disquieting and that leave you with a void you can't help but ponder on some level, either conscious or otherwise.
Spartan, starring Val Kilmer, is a David Mamet film -- which at once suggests curt, sharp dialogue and vulgarity and characters whose merits are almost always debatable on some level. In this particular film, Val Kilmer portrays a special operative agent who is tasked with recovering the President's daughter, who is kidnapped under somewhat mysterious circumstances. His mission turns on its ear and turns yet again -- Mamet is notorious for double- and triple-back plot twists -- and what is exposed is troubling, almost plausible, and highly unusual.
Without the revelation of anything concrete in the way of plot, I think it would be ideal to suggest that this film was rife with odd choices: William H. Macy should never play a character who is charged with carrying, let alone brandishing, a gun. Val Kilmer seems to search for dismal, bitter, angry characters. And Ed O'Neil (the former Al Bundy) should call Teri Hatcher for advice on resurrecting his career.
Though this particular film isn't disposable, what drew me in is its similarities to The Salton Sea, another Kilmer movie in which he plays a character who, essentially, courts death. The dark cloud which permeated that film's every scene is, for the most part, present in this one as well, except for a few scenes which feel like Hallmark-esque filler. The grisly climax and the darkness that defines "Spartan" is, for the most part, dead-on.
The main problem is Kilmer's portrayal of a man who faces and embraces death in his daily life. As much as he's relatively believable in that role, his dialogue is too well effected: just as David Caruso missed the mark as a small-time criminal in "Kiss of Death," Kilmer's behavior and his diction are diametrically opposed. He sounds almost Shakespearean as he's avoiding sniper fire or using someone's head as a door-opener. Either Mamet is preoccupied with the verbal dance he choreographs, or someone forgot to tell Kilmer to snarl more and to show some emotion despite his character not having any. It would have been a bit more believable.
Overall, this film is worth a look despite its flaws, but it's the kind of seeping underbelly of reality that grabs you and locks on, much like The Silence of The Lambs did, and not the story or the acting per se. As much as I respect Kilmer for his ability to portray any character (a brilliant scientist/student, Batman, The Saint and a heartbroken musician seeking revenge), I have to assume that he performs his craft better, and worse, than many other actors out there.
Kristen Bell, opposite Kilmer, held her own, incidentally, as the President's daughter, and each of the other supporting cast members were, for the most part, credible. The problem is, and herein lies the conundrum, as with all Mamet films, it's not the action that occurs in the light that should be scrutinized, but instead it's what is happening in the darkness that is deserving of exposition.
Spartan, starring Val Kilmer, is a David Mamet film -- which at once suggests curt, sharp dialogue and vulgarity and characters whose merits are almost always debatable on some level. In this particular film, Val Kilmer portrays a special operative agent who is tasked with recovering the President's daughter, who is kidnapped under somewhat mysterious circumstances. His mission turns on its ear and turns yet again -- Mamet is notorious for double- and triple-back plot twists -- and what is exposed is troubling, almost plausible, and highly unusual.
Without the revelation of anything concrete in the way of plot, I think it would be ideal to suggest that this film was rife with odd choices: William H. Macy should never play a character who is charged with carrying, let alone brandishing, a gun. Val Kilmer seems to search for dismal, bitter, angry characters. And Ed O'Neil (the former Al Bundy) should call Teri Hatcher for advice on resurrecting his career.
Though this particular film isn't disposable, what drew me in is its similarities to The Salton Sea, another Kilmer movie in which he plays a character who, essentially, courts death. The dark cloud which permeated that film's every scene is, for the most part, present in this one as well, except for a few scenes which feel like Hallmark-esque filler. The grisly climax and the darkness that defines "Spartan" is, for the most part, dead-on.
The main problem is Kilmer's portrayal of a man who faces and embraces death in his daily life. As much as he's relatively believable in that role, his dialogue is too well effected: just as David Caruso missed the mark as a small-time criminal in "Kiss of Death," Kilmer's behavior and his diction are diametrically opposed. He sounds almost Shakespearean as he's avoiding sniper fire or using someone's head as a door-opener. Either Mamet is preoccupied with the verbal dance he choreographs, or someone forgot to tell Kilmer to snarl more and to show some emotion despite his character not having any. It would have been a bit more believable.
Overall, this film is worth a look despite its flaws, but it's the kind of seeping underbelly of reality that grabs you and locks on, much like The Silence of The Lambs did, and not the story or the acting per se. As much as I respect Kilmer for his ability to portray any character (a brilliant scientist/student, Batman, The Saint and a heartbroken musician seeking revenge), I have to assume that he performs his craft better, and worse, than many other actors out there.
Kristen Bell, opposite Kilmer, held her own, incidentally, as the President's daughter, and each of the other supporting cast members were, for the most part, credible. The problem is, and herein lies the conundrum, as with all Mamet films, it's not the action that occurs in the light that should be scrutinized, but instead it's what is happening in the darkness that is deserving of exposition.
Monday, February 07, 2005
Tick Tock
"The big hand is on the four, the little hand is on the two, and it's time for the six o'clock report."
-George Carlin
The NHL is just about done. There's a newsflash for ya. According to the newest reports (most of which are bullshit, by the way), the Union Head left Friday's meeting with League reps without so much as an idea of what he would say was positive that came from said meeting, other than they were able to stay in a room for the better part of a day and didn't kill one another. That's not progress, that's a divorce waiting to happen. Bob Goodenow, the Players' Association Representative, isn't the reason this is happening, but he sure is playing a large part therein. Let the damn players vote, and then the League will tweak the cap number (ie the max amount each team can spend thereunder) and let's get back on the ice.
(Ed. Note: No hockey? When is the hockey season, anyway? Eh...who cares. No cheerleaders, I'm changing channels. When is that Trading Spaces show on, anyway?)
The Patriots won the Super Bowl. Big fucking deal. They were picked by everyone who could differentiate a football from a golf ball (unless you're from South Philly or South Jersey, or an inmate at Rahway State Prison, which is pretty much the same thing). How many days before pitchers and catchers report?
(Ed. Note: Bob Kraft is the spawn of Satan, and everyone knows he sold his soul [and one of his testicles] to win five Super Bowls before he is unceremoniously killed in a bizarre whoopee-cushion prank gone horribly, horribly wrong. Watch, my friends...just wait and see.)
27 Iraqis died in twin suicide attacks in a hospital in Baghdad. Check me if I'm wrong, but the whole point of a suicide bombing is to put people in the hospital, if not the morgue. If you have to have more than one suicide bomber go to the hospital to finish the job, then (sic) your suicide bombers are clearly not maximizing their death potential. Either the Zionist, Capitalist enemy is growing strong, or the suicide bombers are just not committed enough to the cause. Shoot one and perhaps the rest will step up their effort.
(Ed. Note: Sarcasm is a part of the message here. Get a grip.)
George Bush (aka Mini-Me) offered up a 2.57 trillion budget today. His budget cuts subsidies to farmers, health care for the poor and veterans and lopped off some environmental and educational spending.
But when will I get my check for $300 from the government? Send it here, Georgy, send it here.
(Ed. Note: Cutting veterans' benefits in wartime is a dumb move, even for a schmuck like Dubya. Someone tell Cheney to spank the leader of the free world and have Dubya go stand in the corner.)
In other news...
Proof that there is far too much stupidity in this world:
http://www.local6.com/news/4171852/detail.html?subid=22100428&qs=1;bp=t
One final note:
When did televising greasy, visor-wearing plumbers playing poker become en vogue? It seems like, more and more, the only things safe to watch on TV is Iron Chef America and Desperate Housewives, but the truth is, without the promise of a glimpse of David Caruso's bare ass, no one's going to watch either show for any length of time. If David Caruso is a guest judge on the former, I'm settin' up the VCR and leaving the house.
For good.
-George Carlin
The NHL is just about done. There's a newsflash for ya. According to the newest reports (most of which are bullshit, by the way), the Union Head left Friday's meeting with League reps without so much as an idea of what he would say was positive that came from said meeting, other than they were able to stay in a room for the better part of a day and didn't kill one another. That's not progress, that's a divorce waiting to happen. Bob Goodenow, the Players' Association Representative, isn't the reason this is happening, but he sure is playing a large part therein. Let the damn players vote, and then the League will tweak the cap number (ie the max amount each team can spend thereunder) and let's get back on the ice.
(Ed. Note: No hockey? When is the hockey season, anyway? Eh...who cares. No cheerleaders, I'm changing channels. When is that Trading Spaces show on, anyway?)
The Patriots won the Super Bowl. Big fucking deal. They were picked by everyone who could differentiate a football from a golf ball (unless you're from South Philly or South Jersey, or an inmate at Rahway State Prison, which is pretty much the same thing). How many days before pitchers and catchers report?
(Ed. Note: Bob Kraft is the spawn of Satan, and everyone knows he sold his soul [and one of his testicles] to win five Super Bowls before he is unceremoniously killed in a bizarre whoopee-cushion prank gone horribly, horribly wrong. Watch, my friends...just wait and see.)
27 Iraqis died in twin suicide attacks in a hospital in Baghdad. Check me if I'm wrong, but the whole point of a suicide bombing is to put people in the hospital, if not the morgue. If you have to have more than one suicide bomber go to the hospital to finish the job, then (sic) your suicide bombers are clearly not maximizing their death potential. Either the Zionist, Capitalist enemy is growing strong, or the suicide bombers are just not committed enough to the cause. Shoot one and perhaps the rest will step up their effort.
(Ed. Note: Sarcasm is a part of the message here. Get a grip.)
George Bush (aka Mini-Me) offered up a 2.57 trillion budget today. His budget cuts subsidies to farmers, health care for the poor and veterans and lopped off some environmental and educational spending.
But when will I get my check for $300 from the government? Send it here, Georgy, send it here.
(Ed. Note: Cutting veterans' benefits in wartime is a dumb move, even for a schmuck like Dubya. Someone tell Cheney to spank the leader of the free world and have Dubya go stand in the corner.)
In other news...
Proof that there is far too much stupidity in this world:
http://www.local6.com/news/4171852/detail.html?subid=22100428&qs=1;bp=t
One final note:
When did televising greasy, visor-wearing plumbers playing poker become en vogue? It seems like, more and more, the only things safe to watch on TV is Iron Chef America and Desperate Housewives, but the truth is, without the promise of a glimpse of David Caruso's bare ass, no one's going to watch either show for any length of time. If David Caruso is a guest judge on the former, I'm settin' up the VCR and leaving the house.
For good.
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