You don't want Roger Goodell's job

The latest black eye for the NFL's reputation has arrived in the form of camera-phone video of an obviously stewed Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones making disparaging remarks about Bill Parcells and Tim Tebow during a conversation in a bar. Many of us have probably been liquored up and said things we regretted the next day. The difference is, what we said didn't end up on ESPN over and over and over again. I understand that times have changed. There's a 24-hour news cycle, and the old rules about what passes for news, even in the sports world, are out the window. But I think it's unseemly that the sports media is taking what was essentially a private conversation and splashing it all over the radio and TV. It's not as if Jones made these remarks at a news conference or some other scheduled public event. Jerry Jones is a pretty easy guy to dislike, and as a public figure, he has to expect to be under the microscope. But I still think he deserves the right to have a conversation with a couple of other people in a bar without some opportunistic slimeball voyeuristically and surreptitiously videotaping him and then selling the video to some Internet site. And ESPN, of course, leaped on this with both feet. I'm a fan of the "Mike and Mike" show on ESPN. I watch and/or listen to the program every weekday. But their defense of ESPN repeatedly showing the Jones video and their spending an inordinate amount of time talking about it sort of fell flat with me. One of their main arguments was that, while the shooting of the video was wrong, they have an obligation to repeatedly show it and to talk about it endlessly because it’s “news.” Let me translate that for you: They won’t do the dirty work themselves, but they’ll perch like vultures and feast on the carrion that is drug into public by people with lesser morals. Their other argument was that if they didn't give the video wall-to-wall coverage, viewers and listeners would turn to other outlets that did. Translation: Journalistic integrity and ethics aren’t as important as ratings and advertising dollars. It's a far cry from the days when reporters looked the other way when Mickey Mantle, Billy Martin and other pro athletes and coaches were drinking, carousing and raising hell. But maybe we've gone too far. It's almost reached the point at which the actual games are taking a back seat to the off-field goings-on. There's a big difference between a star quarterback being accused of sexual assault, which is a legitimate news story, and an NFL owner getting a snootful of booze and talking to some folks at a tavern. One is news. The other is an invasion of privacy.

What a laugh

I find most television commercials to be either boring or stupid, or both. But I've always gotten a few laughs from the E*Trade ads featuring the talking babies. Actress Lindsay Lohan doesn’t share my opinion. She’s suing E*Trade for $100 million because of the company’s latest ad, which features one baby girl referring to another as “that milkaholic Lindsay.” Lohan, who has a history of substance abuse, claims the character in the ad, who pops onto the screen at the end of the commercial and says “Milk-a-what?," is clearly based on her, and that her right to privacy has been violated. It seems ridiculous to me that someone like Lohan, whose party girl behavior has landed her on tabloid magazine covers and those parasitic syndicated TV shows about the entertainment industry, can claim any right to privacy. But it gets funnier. Lohan alleges in her suit that the character in the ad had to be named after her because she has the same “single-name” public recognition as Oprah and Madonna. Sure, that’s right. Anytime I'm ticking off the world’s biggest female celebrities one might recognize by their first names alone, it's usually Oprah, followed by Madonna and then, of course, Lindsay Lohan. Unless she or one of her family members is getting arrested or going into rehab, does anyone even think of Lindsay Lohan these days? I suppose if you're a fan of the aforementioned TV shows or the trashy tabloids, you might see her every once in a while. But I doubt the average American has given her much of a thought in ages. I mean, for the past five or six years, the woman is more famous for her bouts with substance abuse and photos taken with a camera lens pointed up her skirt or down her blouse than she is for her acting career, such as it is. Does she really want to draw more attention to herself at this point? Never mind. Of course she does.

How much fuzz is too much fuzz?

Some people are easily offended. I'm not one of the them, but I understand that some folks have different sensibilities than I. That said, I think it's a bit much that Lamar Advertising in Colorado Springs, Colo., has rejected proposed bus stop advertising posters for a production of the Tony-winning musical “Avenue Q” because a puppet was showing a bit too much, um, skin. That's right. Excessive puppet cleavage is the given reason why the posters cannot be used. Jeff Moore, a Lamar account executive, says his company takes a conservative approach in politically conservative Colorado Springs, which is home base for some conservative Christian groups, including Jim Dobson’s gay-hating Focus on the Family. I saw “Avenue Q” in Pittsburgh a few years back. It’s a highly entertaining show, but it is definitely not for those who are against swearing, gay people and sex in general. However, it boggles the mind to think that anyone could get the vapors over a puppet wearing a revealing dress. Remind me to cross Colorado Springs off my potential vacation spots.

That old-time extremism

In this country, we often hear about "Muslim extremists," but I don't hear anyone complaining about the Christian extremists in our midst. One such bunch appears to be operating in Westmoreland County. It seems the pastor of Christian Fellowship Center of Greensburg has gone to county court to seek an order upholding a vote by the church board to expel two church elders. One of the elders reportedly was argumentative and had a poor attendance record at church functions. OK, that's understandable. The second, however, was voted out because he, um, failed to speak in tongues. For the uninitiated, speaking in tongues involves spewing made-up gibberish, supposedly through the power of the Holy Spirit, and, according to an AP story, it displays what some churches consider to be “necessary evidence of one’s faith.” I don't know if you’ve ever seen anyone speaking in tongues, but it makes the Jodie Foster character in the movie “Nell” sound like Sir Laurence Olivier. Hearing about this legal action brought to mind something even scarier, the hellishly frightening 2006 documentary “Jesus Camp,” in which children essentially were tortured into buying into the charms of Pentacostal/charismatic Christianity. To get an idea of the film’s contents, take a look at this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LACyLTsH4ac. Involving young children in this sort of twisted indoctrination amounts to mental crucifixion and child abuse. If Muslim parents gathered their children together at such a camp and treated them in this fashion, badgering them to fight for the views of their God, there are a lot of folks in this country – selling a different brand of faith – who would accuse them of sowing the seeds of jihad and probably attempt to have the kids taken from them. This is just a reminder that extremism is bad, no matter who or what is being worshipped. And if you’re not sickened by what you saw in the video clip, there’s really something wrong with you.

Dick Ebersol is aptly named

Nobody can accuse NBC executive Dick Ebersol of not being a company man. If you've been living under a rock, NBC has decided to kill Jay Leno's 10 p.m. weeknight talk show and wants to put Leno back at 11:35, thus pushing back Conan O'Brien’s "Tonight Show." O’Brien, as one might expect, is balking about the move and has been very public in bashing the network's plan. And now Ebersol is trying to shift the blame for the whole mess to O’Brien, calling him an "astounding failure." Ebersol also ripped O’Brien and fellow late-night host David Letterman for their pointed jokes about the situation, saying, "It’s chicken-hearted and gutless to blame a guy (Leno) you couldn’t beat in the ratings. They're just striking out at Jay.” Chicken-hearted? It's not as if O'Brien and Letterman are leaking statements to the National Enquirer. They're making them on national TV in front of millions of viewers. And let's remember that it was NBC who pushed Leno out of the "Tonight Show" seat and replaced him with O'Brien. As for that "astounding failure" remark, I think O'Brien, whose previous show needed time to build an audience, deserves more than seven months to succeed with the "Tonight Show." Ebersol also is taking O'Brien to task for blaming his own so-so ratings on the weak lead-in provided by Leno. Let's face facts, Dick. Leno's ratings at 10 p.m. stink. That's the reason you're killing his show. And O'Brien isn't the only one pointing to the sorry lead-in provided by Leno. NBC affiliates are reportedly hacked, and losing money, because Leno is providing such a weak lead-in to their 11 p.m. news programs. Leno promised something new and different when he moved from 11:35 to 10 p.m., but instead he rolled out the same old, tired gags from his old show. Viewers stayed away in droves. Leno is the real underachiever here. It's really easy to settle this whole mess. If Ebersol is so convinced that O'Brien is an "astounding failure," he and NBC should have no problem releasing O'Brien from his NBC deal and allowing him to immediately take his talk show to another network, where he could compete directly with Leno. Yeah, right.

When is it too much?

It hasn't been a good past few days for actor Nicolas Cage. From all accounts, he's in very severe financial difficulties. He's suing his former business manager, while at the same time being sued by a former significant other, Christina Fulton, who is seeking $13 million. And the former business manager has countersued Cage, saying the star ignored advice to curb his excessive spending. Now, he's been hit with a $36.7 million lawsuit by a group called Red Curb Investments, which says Cage, who just this year is facing IRS tax liens approaching $7 million, failed to repay more than $5 million in loans and also failed to give notice of his tax woes. From the sound of all this, it's beginning to look as if Cage, despite earning millions and millions of dollars, is headed either toward bankruptcy or sharing a prison cell with Wesley Snipes. Which finally brings me to my point: While people who make huge sums of money are certainly entitled to spend it as they wish, isn't it a little bit sickening to watch them wallow in excess? This is not jealousy on my part. I'm not a wealthy person, but I enjoy my "regular life." I have no interest in mansions, yachts, private planes and classic sports cars. But everywhere we look, the various media are slobbering over the rich and famous, basically celebrating their lives of excess. I saw an ad last night for a TV show that glorifies lavish weddings. We're talking six-figure, maybe seven-figure, affairs. It would be disturbing to me to even watch something like that. It brings to mind the infamous case of Dennis Kozlowski, who looted Tyco International and was convicted and sent to prison. At his trial, Kozlowski's spending habits were laid out for the world to see. The pinnacle of this, or the low point, perhaps, was Kozlowski's spending of $2.1 million for his wife's 40th birthday party on a Mediterranean island. When people are fortunate enough to become wealthy beyond their wildest dreams, shouldn't it be enough for them to life a very, very comfortable life - even sock away a few million to ensure the financial security of their children and grandchildren - and then do something more altruistic with their riches? Don't get me wrong. There are many people who do just that, but it seems as if there are a growing number who have embraced a culture of unbridled spending. It's not just "me, me, me." It's "look at me." It also has struck me this Christmas season more than any other - perhaps because of the terrible times so many people have gone through this year - that we are throwing money away (much to the delight of corporate America) on gifts that people don't need. I receive gifts that, while very nice, are not necessary for my daily life. And I'm sure I give people gifts that they could very well have done without. Well, I'm finally stepping off the Christmas-Hanukkah-Kwanzaa-whatever merry-go-round. Next year, I'll be telling the people with whom I have typically exchanged gifts that I want nothing from them and that I will be taking money that I usually would have spent on gifts and giving it to worthy charities. Small children will be exempt from my new policy. Is anyone else having the same thoughts?

Tell the whole truth

Alice Roosevelt Longworth once said, "If you haven't got anything nice to say about anybody, come sit next to me." I always liked that. What I don't subscribe to is the old saying that you don't speak ill of the dead. Perhaps what I really mean is, you shouldn't lie about the dead to make them seem better than they really were. There were two deaths in the past couple of days that I'll use to illustrate that point. Yesterday came the news that KDKA radio talk show host Fred Honsberger had died. To hear everyone talking about him, you would have thought a saint had gone to his reward. As an occasional listener to Fred's show, I thought he was a lie-spewing, truth-twisting, rude and nasty jackass. He was a leader in coarsening and debasing public discourse in our region. Some might say that it was a personna Fred displayed on his program and that he didn't really believe in everything he was saying. Well, in that case, he was a fraud. Take your pick: jackass or fraud. Then, today, we learned of the death of Cincinnati Bengals receiver and former West Virginia Mountaineer Chris Henry, who was fatally injured when he fell from a pickup truck driven by his girlfriend. For those who don't follow football closely, Henry was a sad excuse for a human being when he played at WVU, and he assembled a rap sheet as long as your arm while with the Bengals. But because he hadn't been arrested recently, everyone's talking about him as a "young man who really turned his life around." Really? The guy died while chasing his girlfriend during a domestic dispute. Sounds like a regular Ward Cleaver. I'm sorry that both these men died, especially at their ages, and I feel for their families and friends, but let's not whitewash reality. And let me make it clear that I want the same honest treatment when I die. Feel free to say that I was sometimes (most of the time?) a horse's ass. I believe strongly in telling the truth. ;-)

Random thoughts on the boob tube

A few observations after a night spent watching television:

1. There are times when, despite having a couple of hundred channels to choose from, I can't find a thing that I want to watch on television. Conversely, last night I saw a few good shows. I have to admit that I'm hooked on "Glee!" (I realize that's a somewhat shameful admission for a 51-year-old heterosexual, but it is what it is). And there were a couple of pretty good sitcoms on last night: "Modern Family" and "The Middle." I have trouble sticking with too many shows that have linear story lines, so I tend to watch lighter fare. Are there any shows you would recommend that might be flying under the radar?

2. I saw on SportsCenter that Chad Ochocinco (the former Chad Johnson) of the Cincinnati Bengals was fined something in the neighborhood of $30,000 for donning a cape and a sombrero on the sidelines after scoring a touchdown last weekend. Not on the field, mind you. On the sidelines. The NFL is, more and more, becoming a stiff, corporate "No Fun League," and W&J grad Roger Goodell, the league commissioner, is coming off as a humorless bastard who makes baseball commissioner Bud Selig, who has all the charisma of Harry Reid, look like Will Ferrell by comparison.

3. Does anyone else want to throw a brick through the television when those Jared jewelry commercials come on? They put me on the brink of wanting to retch into the nearest receptacle. I swear that if I were in the market for jewelry, I'd strip some off the rotting corpse of a dead hooker before I'd darken the door of one of their stores.

Unenlightened rogue

This won’t come as much of a surprise, but I won't be among the huddled masses trying to get Sarah Palin to scrawl her name for me inside her new book at an event Saturday at the Sam’s Club in South Strabane Township. For one, I generally try to avoid that entire traffic-challenged plaza. Second, I think Palin is a jackass. But there no doubt will be throngs of people lining up to get a coveted wristband that will make them one of 1,000 people who will get Palin's signature on a copy of "Going Rogue." As best as I can recall, I only have two books signed by an author, and they’re two cookbooks by the same chef/writer. If Christopher Hitchens came to town, I'd probably get in line to have him sign my copy of "God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything." Other than that, probably not. I'd like to hear from folks who do plan to attend Saturday's event. I have two questions: 1) What is it that attracts you to Palin? and 2) What makes you think she'd be a good president? Don't waste everyone's time by telling us all the horrible things Obama is doing. Stick to making a case for Palin as a leader of the Republican Party or even its next candidate for the White House.

We're not that interested

The other morning, ABC's “Good Morning America” heavily promoted and gave considerable attention and air time to a story about the start of the trial of a man accused in the beating death of a woman in Little Rock, Ark. Oh, the woman just happened to be an anchorwoman on a Little Rock television station, which also just happens to be an ABC affiliate. As murders go, there was nothing especially spectacular about this one. Somebody gained entry to Anne Pressly's home, sexually assaulted her and fatally beat her. It's a very sad case, but it doesn’t stand out from hundreds of other murders that occurred across the country last year. So why does ABC think the average American is especially interested in the trial? Could it be that Pressly was blonde, attractive and a member of the local celebrity class? It certainly wouldn't be the first time that the media virtually ignored the killing of a poor, black woman while lavishing attention on the similar death of an attractive, white woman. But I don't think that's it. I think Pressly's case is in the ABC spotlight simply because she was a fellow TV news person. If she had been a bank vice president in Little Rock, would we have seen the extensive coverage? Not likely.

Plenty of blame to go around

Charges are expected any time now against Richard Heene, the self-promoting lunatic from Colorado who touched off a frantic search last week by claiming that his 6-year-old son, Falcon, had drifted off in a balloon shaped like a flying saucer. There are now suggestions by authorities that Richard Heene and his wife, Mayumi, staged the whole thing in order to attract attention for a reality television show. The family is no stranger to the genre, having appeared twice before on "Wife Swap," a program in which two very different women swap families for a period of time. The producer of that program was working on a new show involving the Heenes but has now backed out, which is rather amazing, because it might be the first time that people involved with reality television have shown any concern for their subjects. America has watched as the TLC network has tried to milk every ratings point and advertising dollar possible from the dissolution of the Gosselin family, stars of "Jon & Kate Plus Eight." And even though the parents are in the midst of a bitter divorce, and the family is crumbling, TLC continues to suckle at the teat of misery. There's a reason television producers and networks give us shows such as "Jerry Springer," "Rock of Love" and "Temptation Island." People watch. And those people have to bear part of the responsibility for what has happened to the Gosselin family and what's happening now with the Heene family. Certainly, the Heenes were going to be loons anyway - they reportedly believe they're descendants of aliens - but with no potential audience for their shenanigans, perhaps things wouldn't have gone this far.

Time to clean house

There’s a television show on the A&E network called "Hoarders." It delves into the lives of folks who have a compulsion that leads them to save anything and everything. Some of these sad folks specialize. One fellow collected stuff that he bought at hardware stores because he was convinced he would need it someday for household projects, which mostly never got done. There also was a lady who had grown up poor and now hoards food. Unfortunately, her house was full of rotting produce, canned goods that carried expiration dates from years ago and a refrigerator filled with unidentifiable materials in various states of decomposition. I have to plead guilty to a little hoarding of my own. It's not like the affliction of the people on the TV show. While I have no problem with common filth (just ask my wife), I hate clutter (except in my car). My weakness was for old e-mails. My Yahoo! account had something on the order of 5,000 old e-mails in it. Some of it was just neglect in not killing out junk. But some of it resulted from e-mails that I thought might contain a snippet of information, or an e-mail address, that I might need again someday. On Monday, I made the decision to clean it out, once and for all. I thought about a deliberate foray through all those old e-mails, trying to preserve those that really did have some nugget of import, but that would have taken hours and hours. So, finally, I killed them all in one fell swoop, with no regard for their content. And since then, as soon as I open an e-mail and read its contents, I kill it out of the system. Now it's time to grad a trash bag and head for the Lebaron.

A fool and his money are soon parted

As a story on Yahoo! News said today, anyone who think the "birthers" are going to quietly fade away is sorely mistaken. Now there's a new group pushing the idea that President Obama was not born in the United States and is, thus, illegally occupying the White House. The Yahoo! story says a Christian Web site called LivePrayer.com has produced an infomercial that will be trotted out in seven Southern states (of course) asking for $30 donations that will entitle the givers to have a fax with their name on it sent to the U.S. attorney general and all of his counterparts on the state level demanding an investigation of Obama's origins. Oh, they also get a "Got a Birth Certificate?" bumper sticker. Sweet. The LivePrayer.com outfit is led by a guy named Bill Keller, a born-again Christian who was once found guilty of insider trading on Wall Street. Who better to send your money to? Keller is working hand in hand with a lawyer named Gary Kreep (really) to distribute the infomercial, entitled "Where Was Obama Born." You can check out the lowlights here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_jZdkCFAUw In the infomercial, Mr. Kreep cites an unnamed expert who has written a 186-page dissertation on why Obama's certificate of live birth is a fake, and although it's neither here nor there, Keller, the guy who looks like a deranged Harpo Marx, appears to be wearing white socks with his suit. I'm just sayin'. They also make sure to call the president Barack HUSSEIN Obama. Of course. The birthers, as a group, are the dumbest of the dumb, but the really mentally deficient pinheads are the people who will send money to these sad-sack losers. But it appears they have a built-in market. The Yahoo! report cites a recent Public Policy Polling survey that found 42 percent of Republicans believe the president was born outside this country. Congratulations, GOP. You're now officially the party of the terminally and deliberately stupid. Let's be clear here. Obama has provided the aforementioned certificate of live birth that shows he was born in Hawaii. The state of Hawaii has certified that, yes, Obama was born in that state. Newspapers in Hawaii, at the time of Obama's birth, carried announcements of that birth, stating that it occurred IN HAWAII. At that time, who would have had any reason to lie about something like that? If Obama held a news conference tomorrow and handed the president of Fox News the precise documentation that the birthers are demanding, they'd just claim it was a forgery (note the 186-page dissertation cited above). But for those who are convinced that the president is a "furriner," please do get your "Got a Birth Certificate?" bumper sticker and slap it on your vehicles, because those of us who don't struggle to keep our own spit in our mouths would probably benefit by knowing when we're in the presence of mouth-breathing, cousin-humping droolers who still believe this junk.

Just shut up

It's probably safe to say that the less we hear from Mackenzie Phillips, the better. I find it hard to believe that very many people are interested in hearing anything she has to say. The "highlight" of her acting career was her role on the sitcom “One Day at a Time” back in the 1970s. Since then, she's been best known as a dope addict. But now, 30 years after the alleged "fact," Phillips is coming out with the allegation that her father, John Phillips of the musical group the Mamas and the Papas, raped her on the eve of her first marriage, and that they then had a decade-long consensual sexual relationship. John Phillips is dead and thus unable to defend himself. You have to wonder why Mackenzie Phillips sees the need to air this supposed filthy family laundry at this late date. Could she possibly be trying to help others who might have had sick relationships with family members? Anything's possible, I suppose. But consider these facts: Phillips issued her claims on “The Oprah Winfrey Show” just at the time when she’s releasing a book called “High on Arrival.” I'm going to go ahead and suspect that her real motivation is to make a buck. And she’s definitely not the only one who is guilty of providing too much information. As a people, we seem to have lost all grasp of the concept that some things are private and best kept to oneself. I avoid shows like “Entertainment Tonight” and “Inside Edition” like the plague because, frankly, I don’t give a damn about the private lives of actors, singers and other celebrities. Why does anyone care what these people, whom they don’t even know, do with their free time? I just don’t get it.

"Jackass of the Month" race too close to call

It seems some ABC news employees who were listening in on a conversation between President Obama and CNBC’s John Harwood before the start of an interview tweeted that Obama had some unkind words for Kanye West. For those who missed it, West mounted the stage at last weekend’s MTV Video Music Awards and commandeered the microphone from pop-country teen star Taylor Swift, who had just won the award for “Best Female Video.” West proclaimed to the crowd that Beyonce Knowles, not Swift, should have won the award. Well, it appears the president has the same opinion of West as most other people. On the audio feed that was listened in on by the ABC folks, Obama is asked why West would do what he did. Replied the president, “He’s a jackass.” Couldn’t have put it better myself. There’s been some debate about whether Obama’s remarks should have been reported, or shared on Twitter. But it’s really a tempest in a teapot. The real issue is the growing number of jackasses we encounter in our daily lives. Never in American history have people been as rude as they are today. Other recent examples are good old Joe Wilson and Serena Williams, who let loose with a threatening, F-bomb-laden tirade against a line judge a few days ago at the U.S. Open. Wilson and Williams have not been serial offenders, but it’s not the first time that West has climbed on an awards show stage to make his displeasure known. And has anybody else noticed that Kanye only complains when it’s a white person winning an award? Bill Maher said recently that we’re becoming a nation of stupid people (It’s getting harder and harder to dispute that.). It seems we’re also becoming a nation of really rude, angry people. Not a good combination.

First takes

After enduring the exhibition season, it was nice to sit down last night to watch an NFL game that actually meant something. The added bonus was the Steelers pulling out an overtime victory over the Titans. Here are a few thoughts I had while watching the game. Feel free to chip in with yours.

– Maybe it's just me, but I found it offensive that Nike is selling equipment touted as "Pro Combat." Combat? Really?

– The General Electric ads with the singing factory workers were great.

– Cris Collinsworth did a pretty fair job in his debut next to Al Michaels.

– Michaels remains solid, as always, but he's beginning to look like the picture of Dorian Gray.

– The Titans have a tough defense, but the Steelers’ offensive line had a heckuva time opening any holes, and the running backs didn't do much with the ones they did open.

– The Brett Favre Sears ad showed that Favre has a sense of humor and the ability to mock himself.

– Mewelde Moore was a solid contributor, but the formerly "Fast" Willie Parker looks as if he's slowing down, and Rashard Mendenhall is making me have unwelcome flashbacks to Greg Hawthorne and Tim Worley.

– Am I the only one who deliberately avoids all the pre-game hoopla and turns on the TV just in time for kickoff?

– It's tough to lose Troy Polamalu with an injury, but it's better than losing Ben Roethlisberger.

– Tom Brady, Drew Brees and Peyton Manning might post more impressive raw passing numbers, but if the chips are down, I'd rather have Roethlisberger under center.

This just in: Obama wants to eat our dogs and rape our cats

I watch a fair amount of comedy programming on television. Let's face it, life can be tough, and a few laughs don't hurt. But the funniest thing I've seen in ages was a commercial I caught last night. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxFC9Af3W1U In fact, I was laughing out loud, even though I don't think it was intended to produce that response. The ad in opposition to health-care reform was paid for by the Family Research Council. The group was founded by noted hatemonger Rev. James Dobson. I went to the FRC Web site, and for the life of me, I couldn't find any actual research. Perhaps they just periodically ask their followers if they still love Jesus and hate Obama. But back to the ad. It features an elderly couple sitting at a kitchen table and looking like they'd just eaten a truckload of cat droppings. The guy is holding a piece of paper that looks as if it came from the government. He says, "They won't pay for my surgery. To think that Planned Parenthood is included in the government-run health-care plan, and we’re spending tax dollars on abortion. They won't pay for my surgery, but we’re forced to pay for abortions." Pretty nifty how they managed to stuff the word "abortion" into the ad twice within five seconds. At that point, it looks as if he's going to get down on the floor and writhe about. Then, the voice of a breathless woman says, "Our greatest generation denied care. Our future generation denied life." She asks that you call your senator to make sure this reform effort is stopped in its tracks. As I understand it, no one is going to be required to sign on with a plan that covers abortions. And do these people really think that there are not already health insurance companies that cover abortions? Also, if you don't like the public option that could come to fruition, don't choose it. And if you don't want an abortion, don't have one. Honestly, I hadn't seen this much hysteria, fearmongering and misinformation in a 30-second ad since the Bush re-election campaign in 2004. And, lo and behold, I heard last night that the old "turd blossom" himself, Karl Rove, has signed on to help the Republicans kill health-care reform. I'm sure more great comedy programming lies ahead.

The wild, wacky world of Pittsburgh sports

There are a couple of big stories today in the world of Pittsburgh sports. For one, the Pirates have unloaded the albatross known as Adam LaRoche. I have included in this post, for your enjoyment and wonder, a photo of LaRoche actually making contact with a baseball. The guy looked like a sure bet to be a 35-homer, 100-RBI guy when the Pirates acquired him from the Braves, but he’s been a huge disappointment. After two seasons in which he fell well short of expectations and apparently didn’t realize that the season starts in April, not July, the Pirates, in the past offseason, gave the guy a $7 million contract. And LaRoche responded by hitting .247 with a paltry 12 homers and 81 strikeouts in 87 games. LaRoche is a slick fielder at first base, but the Bucs acquired him for his bat. Now Red Sox fans can watch him and pull their hair out. In exchange for LaRoche, the Sox sent the Pirates two low-level minor leaguers, including a shortstop who is hitting .253 with zero homers at Class AA. The Bucs also got a Single A pitcher. I frequently rip the Pirates for trading away talented players and getting next to nothing in return, but in this case, a can of Spam and a tampon applicator would have been sufficient. Now we can all wait and see what the Pirates’ “brain trust” decides to do with second baseman Freddy Sanchez and shortstop Jack Wilson, arguably the two biggest fan favorites on the team. Sanchez is a legitimate all-star, and Wilson is a great defensive shortstop who is adequate at the plate. The Nutting family recently made a show of their so-called efforts to sign Sanchez and Wilson to contract extensions, but the offers were laughable. They were clearly made so that when the Nuttings send Sanchez and Wilson packing in exchange for the figurative bucket of balls, they can say, “We wanted to keep them around, but they wouldn’t sign an extension.” And it’s not like the Bucs have anyone else to plug into those positions. No one on the roster or in their minor-league system is ready to be an everyday major league middle infielder. The Nuttings, at that point, will officially be putting a Triple-A quality product on the field and charging you major league money for it. We are well past the point when anyone in his right mind would put money into the pockets of the Nutting family. If Sanchez and Wilson go, it should be even more clear.

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The other big sports story in Pittsburgh is really a non-story. Some hotel clerk in Las Vegas has filed a lawsuit claiming that a year ago, Steelers quarterback Ben Roethlisberger raped her in his room at a Lake Tahoe hotel and casino. I won’t go into the details of her allegations, because the story has already been beaten to death in the local media. But here’s a question: Does anyone really believe this woman? She never called police to report an assault, and just before the statute of limitations on a civil action was about to run out, she files a suit seeking more than $400,000 in damages. Hmmmmm. Another angle of this story is the media coverage it has received. We all know that if a Steelers player, especially a star player, has so much as an irregular bowel movement, we get breathless “team coverage” of the important “breaking news.” The TV stations, of course, are going totally bat@#$% crazy over the Roethlisberger story. As one commenter pointed out elsewhere on the blog, they’re even sending reporters to Las Vegas to get to the bottom of this. The correct approach to this story would have been to report it once and then give it the coverage it deserves, which is to be totally ignored until the case comes to trial, is settled or is dismissed. Enough already.

Overkill

Did you ever say something critical about someone who had just died, and another person told you that you should be more respectful because the person "wasn't even in the ground yet"? Well, now that Michael Jackson is presumably in the ground or headed there very shortly (unless his head is being frozen somewhere, a la Ted Williams), I'd like to say that the amount of attention paid to his death by the media was beyond ridiculous. I do understand that he "did Thriller" and was a music icon. But the level of fawning and hyperbole at Jackson's memorial service boggled the mind. Magic Johnson, who has never been the sharpest tool in the shed, said that watching Michael Jackson made him a better basketball player. Huh? And then there was this from the Rev. Al Sharpton: "Those young kids grew up from being teenage, comfortable fans of Michael’s to being 40 years old and being comfortable to vote for a person of color to be president of the United States. Michael did that. Michael made us love each other." Now, Sharpton is an idiot of epic proportion, and he and the truth have not always been on the best of terms, but really? A co-worker heard someone else say - and they weren't kidding - that Jackson was "the greatest figure of love and peace in the history of the world." Sorry, Jesus. You're No. 2 now. But I saved the best for last, and it's once again from Sharpton, who told Jackson's three children that "your daddy wasn't strange." OK, I have to call "shenanigans" on that one. What we had with Jackson was one of THE strangest people to inhabit the Earth during my lifetime. We can debate all day whether he was a child molester. But it's pretty clear that he was a druggie who probably took so much "legal" dope that he killed himself. He also was a guy who was once good-looking and black, and at the end of his life, he was a circus freak who made Clay Aiken look like 50 Cent. And while I give the guy his props as a onetime "King of Pop," those days were long gone. Jackson hadn't been a major player on the music scene for close to 20 years, during which time he became a public joke. Some called him the greatest and most influential artist in the history of popular music, but wouldn't you think the greatest artist ever would have continued to be productive and relevant past the age of 35? And there are plenty of other people - Lennon and McCartney, Buddy Holly, Kurt Cobain, Chuck Berry, Little Richard and Brian Wilson, to name a few - who were every bit as influential. It's sad that Michael Jackson is dead, and that his life since the mid-90s had been a downward spiral. But there's really no one to blame for that but Michael Jackson, and maybe those who raised him and enabled him. Just a sad story with a final act that was way too loud and long.

Jon and Kate ... Hey, wait

I don't watch much reality television. For some reason, I'm not attracted to shows such as "Rock of Love," "Bridezillas" and "Big Brother" that seem to feature nothing but scummy, mean-spirited, slimy, venal and repugnant people. But one would almost have to live in a cave to avoid the mass media frenzy over the family featured in a TLC series called "Jon and Kate Plus Eight." The program follows the lives of Jon and Kate Gosselin and their eight children, a set of twins who are nearly 9 and 5-year-old sextuplets. And those lives, of late, seem to be twirling down the toilet. In my limited exposure to the program, it struck me that the mother in the family is what we used to call a "bitch on wheels." The dad appears to be a disinterested schlump. And if you believe the news reports, some from questionable sources, one or both of the parents might be having extramarital affairs, and divorce might be right around the corner. It appears to me that if these two don't actively hate each other, there's an intense and growing dislike. Which brings me to my point: Does anybody involved in this sordid mess really give a damn about those eight kids? I presume that they're all in school now, and I'm guessing that, kids being kids, some other youngster will inevitably ask, "Why does your Daddy have a girlfriend?" or "I saw on TV that your Mommy and Daddy are getting a divorce." The exploitation of these children would be considered deplorable by any caring person, but it's clear, at least at this writing, that the parents are content to allow the apparent collapse of the family to be carried out in front of millions of TV viewers. Could the big money they're raking in be the overriding factor? It's pretty clear that they're now accustomed to living a high life that, without the television program, they would be unlikely to be able to afford. If the producers of the show or the folks at the network that carries it had any morals and integrity, they would pull the plug. But again, money talks - and it's really loud. So, no matter that these children might be scarred for life by what's going on here. There's plenty of cash to be stuffed into the adults' pockets.

Why? 'Cause Bracken says so

Think for a moment or two what you would do if you had $500,000 to spend on tourism promotion in Washington County. Did buying fake grass for a minor-league baseball team's sloppy field pop into your head? Probably not. But that's exactly what the Washington County Tourism Promotion Agency did on Thursday. Its members voted, 8-3, to plunk down half a million dollars in hotel tax proceeds over the next decade in order to finance the installation of artificial turf at Consol Energy Park, home of the Washington Wild Things. Another $500,000 for the project will come from your state tax dollars. There's no debating that the Wild Things are a major draw, second only to the Meadows in terms of attracting visitors to the county. And no one really debates the fact that the current grass field has significant drainage problems and should be replaced. The objections from those who opposed the tourism spending centered mainly on the use of that particular funding source and the way in which the proposal was handled. Observer-Reporter publisher Tom Northrop, who cast one of the dissenting votes, believed it would have been better to use the local share of slots proceeds from The Meadows casino. But the artificial turf project was not among those forwarded by the county commissioners for slots funding. And the reason is becoming clear. Why use the slots money, and possibly raise the ire of local communities vying for that funding, when you can just strong-arm the tourism panel into coughing up the cash? Northrop was told by county Commissioner Bracken Burns, who was pushing the Wild Things project, "We're the ones who gave you the hotel tax money, and we can take it away, too." If that's not a threat, I don't know what is. I'm pretty sure if you look up the word "arrogant" in the dictionary, you'll find a picture of Burns. But the attempted bullying didn't stop there. Jeff Kotula, the executive director of Washington County Chamber of Commerce, who just happens to be chairman of the commissioner-appointed panel that decided on the use of slots money, allegedly called tourism panel member Jamie Johns of The Meadows to "remind" her that the commissioners appointed her to the board. Supposedly, all the newer members of the board got these "friendly reminders." And there's more. A state-level official also got into the high-pressure act, and some board members were told that if they didn't vote the "right way," they could easily be replaced because they serve at the pleasure of the commissioners. One of the affirmative votes for the $500,000 outlay came from board member Bob Gregg, perhaps better known as the WJPA play-by-play announcer for Wild Things games. Gregg might not get paid by the Wild Things or Ballpark Scholarships Inc., which owns the park and is the entity getting the money, but the average third-grader could spot the conflict of interest in his vote. At least the tourism board representatives from the Wild Things and Cal U., which plays games on the field, had the good sense to abstain. One might also complain that the reason artificial turf is needed at this juncture is that the field was not constructed properly in the first place. Now they want public money to bail them out. As I said earlier, no one is denying that the Wild Things are an asset for the community, and no one is claiming that new turf is not needed. But should $1 million in tax money be used for this? It brought to mind the time when we citizens said we didn't want our state tax money to be used to build stadiums in Pittsburgh, and our so-called "leaders" in Harrisburg stuffed it down our throats anyway. It also makes one wonder why the county even has a tourism promotion panel. Why don't Burns and his equally shameless cronies just make the decisions themselves, in a back room somewhere, and eliminate this charade.

They're Philipping out

From the Can't-Take-a-Joke Department: It seems that the government of the Philippines is in full outrage mode because of a joking comment made by actor Alec Baldwin. In a recent appearance on David Letterman's talk show, Baldwin, whose unpleasant dealings with ex-wife Kim Basinger are well-documented, joked that he was "thinking about getting a Filipina mail-order bride ... or a Russian." And Letterman joked back, "Get one for me, for later." Well, it wasn't long, of course, before the video of the exchange was making the rounds on YouTube, and officials of the Philippines started demanding apologies. "Incidents of mockery against our race happen again and again. Again and again we must not fail in our strong condemnation and resounding assertion of our dignity," said Philippines Sen. Loren Legarda. "Let us make it clear to the world: Filipina women are not for sale. Not even for sale to Hollywood actors," she added. Another lawmaker went so far as to threaten to give Baldwin a knuckle sandwich if he dares show his face in the country. And the officials noted that the mail-order bride business is outlawed there. Really? A quick Yahoo! search for "Philippines mail order brides" turns up hundreds of thousands of responses. The main sponsor on the first page of the search results offers to hook you up with "Philippine ladies seeking love, dating and marriage." I'm guessing somebody has to be making a buck on this. After all the uproar, Baldwin might be leaning more toward a Russian woman. But he should be forewarned: Russian women seem to age about as well as unrefrigerated macaroni salad. Some of those 20-year-old Russian hotties gracing the Internet might very well end up looking like Janet Reno a few years down the road. And, you know, based on Baldwin's track record, maybe he'd just be better off with porn.

Those ads are giving him the willies

With all the problems in our country, U.S. Rep. Jim Moran has decided to make it a priority to ensure that no kids hear the word "erectile" on television. The Virginia Democrat wants the House to consider legislation that would ban advertisements for erectile dysfunction drugs between 6 a.m. and 10 p.m. Said the congressman, "I do object, when you're sitting around with the kids, to be warning people about a four-hour erection. That's not appropriate. I have no problem with the product. I have a problem with advertising it." Yes, let's attach great shame to our private parts and any discussion thereof. It'd be much more fun for boys to be totally shocked, and maybe even a little afraid, when they get a surprise around age 12. Let's face it, little kids couldn't care less about mushy advertisements showing semi-elderly people getting frisky. And if a kid is old enough to take interest in such advertising and ask a question, would it be that horrific to give him or her an age-appropriate answer? I do have to admit, however, that the "Viva Viagra!" ads are so catchy that anyone from 8 to 80 can't help but be sucked in. Moran claims the ads have become "increasingly aggressive ... more pervasive and explicit." Hey, in this day and age, just having a guy toss a football through a tire swing as a metaphor doesn't get anyone's attention. And it's not like those folks in the Cialis spa commercial are in the same bathtub playing "Up Goes the Periscope." I also guarantee you that if the drug companies didn't warn people about the possibility of four-hour erections, a lawsuit is coming from the first guy who has an unwelcome encounter with the corner of a chest of drawers while navigating a dark bedroom. The three major ED-drug manufacturers note that their television advertising is carefully targeted to run during shows that appeal primarily to men over age 50. And at least one of the companies already has its own restrictions on hours of the day when the ads run. If you ask me, Moran is the one going off half-cocked.

An author? You betcha

I hear that Alaska governor and former GOP vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin is writing a book. Shouldn't there be a rule that you had to have read a book, or at least be able to name a magazine or newspaper you flipped through, in order to write your own book? I can't wait to hear the tale about how she attended five colleges in order to get a single bachelor's degree, or how having Vladimir Putin fly over one's home state is indicative of foreign policy expertise.

Gay is OK again

Amazon.com has backtracked after what it described as an "embarrassing and ham-fisted cataloging error" that led to tens of thousands of books being removed from the popular online retailer's sales rankings. At first, it was thought that gay-themed books such as Annie Proulx’s "Brokeback Mountain" were the main targets, but Amazon says the "error" involved more than 57,000 books "in a number of broad categories such as health; mind and body; reproductive and sexual medicine; and erotica." According to Agence France Presse, Mark Probst, author of a gay romance novel, said on his blog that he questioned Amazon about the deletion of his work and was told that the company was cutting "adult" materials from its Web searches and sales lists "in consideration of our entire customer base." It's a good thing that Amazon is rectifying the situation, but I'm not buying the explanation that this was an error. An error is dropping the cap from the toothpaste tube down the drain in the bathroom sink. This seems more likely to have been a deliberate act by someone trying to impose his or her own value judgments on literature. That worked in Hitler's Germany. It won't fly here. I hope.

Who do you think is the cat's pajamas?

Even those of us who are happily married sometimes cast a sideways glance at an attractive member of the opposite sex who crosses our path. Some folks might actually stare with their mouths hanging open. Heck, even pious Jimmy Carter admitted to committing adultery in his heart. Some people, men and women alike, have a fascination with celebrities, whether they be music stars, movie stars or just those folks who have no discernable talents (at least ones I can mention here) and are famous for being famous (see Paris Hilton). I’m not much of a star-worshipper. I regularly see women in Washington County who seem to me to be as attractive as most of those on the silver screen. I will take time out of my busy schedule to gawk if images of Scarlett Johansson (above) or Christina Ricci are easily accessible, but I’ve never understood why some men think Jennifer Garner is hot, and I am absolutely stunned that Sarah Jessica Parker is a Hollywood star. I mean, the woman (again, just in my opinion) is borderline homely, and her acting skills have never, ever been compared to Meryl Streep’s. Some men will tell you that they never look in an admiring way at any woman other than their wives. Here’s the deal. I don’t believe you. And you women, don’t pretend that you’re above all this. We men know that if Johnny Depp or Hugh Jackman came a-callin’, the next thing we’d hear from you might come in the form of a letter from a divorce lawyer. For most people, it’s harmless fantasy. We truly love the people we’re married to, and we’d actually turn down Scarlett or Johnny if they showed up at our doors (not that I bear any delusions that Scarlett Johansson will suddenly develop a taste for old, fat guys with no money; I do, however, hear that old fat guys with a boatload of money do pretty well for themselves). But I digress. Share with me and the readers of the blog your picks for the celebrities who mesmerize you, and those who are sex symbols for reasons you’ve never been able to figure out. And while we’re at it, tell us about someone you secretly find highly alluring, even though people would probably think you’re crazy. I’ll go first: It’s Flo, the lady in the Progressive insurance commercials. She raises my deductible.

The future's not bright

Our entertainment writer, Brad Hundt, could probably offer a more incisive commentary on this, but it seems to me that hard times are ahead for Post-Gazette Pavilion, known to the locals as Star Lake Amphitheater. The venue has announced a dozen or so shows for this summer, and the first thing that strikes one is the average age of the performers. Jimmy Buffett and Rod Stewart are both in their 60s. Lynyrd Skynyrd has been around since I was a kid. Then you've got Def Leppard, Poison and Cheap Trick. Dave Matthews and Kid Rock, who are in the range of 40 years old, are spring chickens in this bunch. Sure, there are "younger" groups such as No Doubt, Nickelback and Coldplay on the roster, but they're the exceptions, not the rule. Star Lake drew huge crowds last year for the Police and Tom Petty, the two shows I attended, but the Police concert was a one-shot deal, and the Petty show could possibly have been his last in the area. It seems to me that the success of Star Lake is tied to acts that might not be performing five years from now. In the year 2015, who will be packing them in at these large concert venues? Among newer musical acts, a relative few could be counted upon to fill a 23,000-seat concert site. Could Star Lake survive by scheduling more festival-type shows that package together several groups from a particular genre? That's the type of show I would consider attending, but maybe I'm in the minority. As it is, I don't see a single offering on the Star Lake list that would entice me to drive to Burgettstown, and it's an easy trip for me. Couple that with the cost of tickets for a Star Lake show, and I prefer to go to Pittsburgh and see bands in smaller venues, at a better price. And with the current state of the economy, a lot of other people might be thinking the same way. It could be a slow summer at Star Lake.

Hollywood's big night

I'm a big-time movie fan, and also an awards show junkie, so you can well imagine how excited I get about the Academy Awards. I started watching the Oscars when I was a kid, pretty much forcing my parents to watch with me and fill out ballots with their picks for the winners in the various categories. Last night, I attended a party at which the attendees dressed as characters from this year's batch of nominated films and performances. My son and I dressed as the assassins from "In Bruges," and I can't even begin to tell you how frightening it was to see my friend George in a nun's outfit, his homage to Meryl Streep in "Doubt." Here are a few disjointed observations about the evening's proceedings.

- Note to Goldie Hawn: I'm guessing you're in your 60s now. When the "girls" start to leak out the side of the dress, it's a good time to start thinking about covering up a bit.

- Favorite line of the evening: I think Sean Penn is as big a jackass as the next person, but his line after winning the best actor award for his portrayal of gay activist Harvey Milk was great. Said Penn, "You commie, homo-loving sons of guns."

- Miley Cyrus (above) wore a gown that looked like the skirt from my grandmother's Christmas tree.

- I don't think there's ever an excuse for a man to hit a woman, but every time I see Angelina Jolie, I want to slap her.

- Novelist Salman Rushdie took a few shots at best picture winner "Slumdog Millionaire," saying the film isn't believable because it "piles impossibility on impossibility." Yo, dipstick, it's not a freakin' documentary.

- Meryl Streep had the right approach to getting dolled up for the evening. When asked whether it was hard to pick a gown, she replied, "No, it wasn't. The dress fit."

- The dress did not fit presenter Whoopi Goldberg. In fact, it looked as if she was wearing a leopard-print couch cover that she had saved since the '70s.

- They totally butchered the part of the show where they honor those who died during the past year.

- The bit with the guys from "Pineapple Express" was hilarious.

- I wish Mickey Rourke had won, just to hear his acceptance speech.

Viewing the AMAs

After losing control of the TV remote in absentia last night, I spent a good part of the evening watching the American Music Awards. The winners of these awards are chosen by the public, so it's mainly a popularity contest, rather than a referendum on the quality of the music. But hey, the idiotic Grammy voters once chose A Taste of Honey over Elvis Costello for Best New Artist, so there's plenty of dumb to go around. Anyway, here are some random thoughts I jotted down while watching the AMAs.

- Mariah Carey was introduced as "one of the greatest artists of all time." I threw up in my mouth a little when I heard that. After her song, it occurred to me that I'd seen better performances on "American Idol."

- Coldplay must be laughing all the way to the bank. Has anyone ever had more success, over such a long period, with so little discernable talent?

- The people who crafted those Jarod jewelry commercials should be beaten within an inch of their lives.

- There aren't many better-looking humans than Rihanna (shown above), and the performance wasn't bad, either.

- Beyonce is a very talented entertainer.

- The Christina Aguilera Target ad was way cool.

- The Jonas Brothers: Less talent than Coldplay. A lot less. I nearly had to drive the porcelain bus when they "sang."

- More hideousness: The Pussycat Dolls. It appears that only one of the girls can actually sing. The others, as best as I can tell, are good only at being semi-nude.

- After some of the so-called singing I endured Sunday night, there was a bright ray of sunshine later in the program. All I can say is, "Thank God for Annie Lennox."

Really, Kanye?

Kanye West loves him some Kanye. That's the way he's always been. It's Kanye first, Kanye next and Kanye last. If he doesn't get an award he thinks he deserves, he acts like a 3-year-old. But Kanye's taking his self-love to the next level, telling the AP that he is to music what Michael Jordan was to basketball. But it gets better. Said Kanye, "I realize that my place and position in history is that I will go down as the voice of this generation, of this decade. I will be the loudest voice." And it gets even funnier. Kanye says Justin Timberlake had the chance to be the voice of the generation, but he's not putting out enough albums. Justin Timberlake? When Kanye says he'll be the "loudest voice," that's entirely possibly, if shameless self-promotion is what he's referring to. Of course, even there he'd have to take a back seat to Madonna. If I'm going to look up to anyone in music, and I'm not much on hero worship, I'd choose someone who's shown a high level of social consciousness, such as Peter Gabriel or Bono. It's not going to be the person who shouts the loudest about how great he is. And, really, there hasn't been a "voice of the generation" since Dylan in the 1960s. Just keep putting out those CDs, Kanye. They're great. But the rest of us will decide where you belong in the hierarchy of modern culture.

Those were the days

The CBS morning show spent a lot of today's program looking back at the 1950s, and the nostalgia was capped by a lengthy (by TV standards) performance by Little Richard and his band. Richard is approaching his 76th birthday, but he's nearly as good now as he was 50 years ago, unlike a lot of performers who carry on long after their talent has left them and become an embarrassment. If you get a chance to see Richard, I'd highly recommend it.

Like a Dumbass

I've always believed that Madonna is a minimally talented skank with a great gift for self-promotion. I've liked a few of her songs, but for the most part, her act sickens me, and it has never ceased to amaze me that someone with so little to offer musically has been able to forge such a long, lucrative career. The missus loves her, by the way. As I've said often, we have a mixed marriage. But back to Madonna. She kicked off her latest tour Saturday night in London, and at one point, according to an AP report, a large video screen flashed images of destruction and global warming, followed by photos of Adolf Hitler, Zimbabwe dictator Robert Mugabe and ... John McCain. Whoa there, dipstick. Number one, only your most sycophantic hangers-on give a crap about your political beliefs, and while I disagree strongly with McCain on some issues, it is repugnant to put him in the same class as two of the worst genocidal lunatics in the history of the world. Madonna has shown herself again to be nothing more than a dumb ... well, I can't say the word I want to say, but it rhymes with something a football team does when facing a fourth-and-long situation. Stay in England, scumbag.

Who replaces the "legends"?

A look at the roster of shows this year at Post-Gazette Pavilion reveals only a few pop and rock acts with the potential to pack the venue, and they have one thing in common: They're old guys. Tom Petty with opening act Stevie Winwood. Rush. Steve Miller with Joe Cocker. Jimmy Buffett. The Police with Elvis Costello. In addition to the aforementioned acts, other graybeards who still can pack houses include Elton John, the Eagles, the Rolling Stones, U2 and John Mellencamp. These guys can get the AARP discount when they book rooms for their traveling entourages and are now more likely to settle in for the evening with a Diet Coke than a fifth of Jack Daniels. And when they decide they've had enough of the road, who will P-G Pavilion and other venues turn to in order to fill their sheds and lawns? The answer may be, no one. It's hard to think of many pop/rock groups or solo acts that have come along in the past decade who would be able to sell out an 18,000-seat venue with regularity. The missus and I will be taking in two shows at P-G Pavilion this year: the Petty concert next week and the Police/Costello show in late July. But more often these days, we'll see performers in much smaller venues in Pittsburgh, on the South Side or the Strip. And that may be the wave of the future. Within a few years, unless there is a complete change in the business model, P-G Pavilion could once again be a farm field.

Flick picks

At the suggestion of regular contributor Priguy, we're going to have a little lighthearted weekend exercise in the world of film. All of us have movies that we like, but that most other people find horrible, or films that we have in our personal collections that we would be ashamed to tell anyone about. So let's hear what your guilty pleasures are when it comes to film. I'll start off with mine, and I'd also like you to tell me your favorite all-time film. Also, if you, like Priguy, ever have an idea for a discussion topic on the blog, feel free to e-mail me at Bewman99@yahoo.com. I can't promise anything, but I'll certainly consider your proposals. Now, to my list of shame:
1) "Ode to Billy Joe" (Yes, it's a sappy movie, but back in the day when we were still changing TV channels by hand, Glynnis O'Connor was "the bomb," at least in my book.
2) "Rich in Love" (Another sappy, sentimental movie, but it's got great South Carolina Lowcountry locales, and in my mind I'm always goin' to (South) Carolina. My wife hates this movie so much that she threatened to divorce me if I ever watch it in her presence again.)
3) "Milo and Otis" (A cute kids movie about the adventures of a dog and cat. Thanks to my now-grown daughter, I've seen it, oh, 376 times. But I like it. Go figure.)
4) "The Sandlot" (See above, just substitute my now-grown son for my now-grown daughter)
5) "Red Dawn" (An almost unintentionally funny film about a bunch of kids counterattacking against Soviet invaders in the rural U.S. But Patrick Swayze (say a prayer for the guy) kicked some Soviet ass. Can you say "Wolverines!"?)
6) "Bachelor Party" (A rude, crude, senseless film featuring one of the earliest movie appearances by Tom Hanks. And what's your answer to this question? - "Debbie or the car?")
7) "License to Drive" (You get both Coreys - Feldman and Haim - and teenage hijinks. Yeah, it's stupid, but the scene with the drunken driver singing Sinatra, by itself, makes the movie worth watching.)
And on the opposite side of the ledger, a movie I'm not ashamed to say is my all-time favorite: "Sideways" - You get sex, wine and golf. 'Nuff said.

Choose wisely - It's a long trip

Let's suppose that you're chosen for a three-year mission to Mars and (hopefully) back. Space is tight. Alan Shepard couldn't even bring his golf club. But you are allowed to take along three CDs to entertain yourself on the long, long flight. You can pick a soundtrack album, a greatest hits package, a live album, even a CD of a Broadway show. The only restriction is that the album have no more than two CDs. In other words, no 200-song boxed set. Also, no homemade compilation CDs. So, out of the millions of CDs in circulation, you have to pick just three. Let's hear your choices, your thought process in choosing them and even some of the CDs that almost made the cut. My picks are "The Very Best of Elvis Costello and the Attractions, 1977-86." It's the very best of Elvis Costello. Who could ask for anything more? You've got "Alison," "Oliver's Army," "(What's So Funny About) Peace, Love and Understanding," "Watch Your Step" and assorted other goodies. Choice No. 2 is "The Last Waltz," the live CD of The Band's last concert (It's the original two-CD version, not the bloated, four-disc reissue). You get The Band performing "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down," "The Weight," "Stagefright" and more, plus Van Morrison, Eric Clapton, Bob Dylan and others. My third pick is Neil Young's "Decade" album, featuring his work from 1966 to 1976, including his stints with Buffalo Springfield and Crosby, Stills, Nash and, of course, Young. CDs that almost made the cut were Ryan Adams' "Easy Tiger" (think about downloading the songs "Two" and "Halloweenhead."), Bob Marley and the Wailers' "Gold" collection and Fountains of Wayne's "Welcome Interstate Managers." If you're lucky, your crewmates on the flight will share their music, expanding your listening options. Just hope they don't load up on Bangles CDs.

So classy, Barbara

I've never had much regard for Barbara Walters or her work. The words "overrated egomaniac" come to mind. I did have some level of respect for what she accomplished in a male-dominated field, but it's hard to have any respect for her now as she hawks her new book, "Bridging the Divide: My Life." Walters has chosen, in the book and in an appearance on the "Oprah Winfrey Show," to dish out the details of a long-ago relationship with then-U.S. Sen. Edward Brooke, shown above during his Senate years. It would be a pretty tasteless revelation to reveal the affair even if Brooke were dead, but he's not. So what Walters is doing is essentially dragging an ailing, 88-year-old man through the mud. Brooke was well known in Washington for having a rich and varied social life, but was it really necessary to bring up this information now? Of course it was. Barbara wants to sell books.

What do you mean it's not true?!?

A story this week by Melissa Trujillo of the Associated Press detailed the crumbling facade of one Misha Defonseca, author of the international best-seller "Misha: A Memoire of the Holocaust Years." In the book, Defonseca, a Belgian now living in Massachusetts, related her story of becoming a virtual orphan when the Nazis seized her parents, leaving her, as a child, to wander nearly 2,000 miles across Europe in search of them. Along the way, Defonseca said she was trapped in the Jewish Warsaw ghetto, had to kill a German soldier in self-defense and was taken in by a kindly pack of wolves who looked out for her. Yes, wolves. Turns out, there was no pack of wolves, just a pack of lies. Finally, after the tale was translated into 18 languages and made into a movie in France, an American genealogical researcher dug up the truth about Defonseca, who isn't even Jewish. Turns out Defonseca's parents were Belgian resistance fighters who were arrested and killed by the Nazis, at which point Defonseca, whose real name is Monique De Wael, was adopted by relatives. Not quite as exciting as hand-to-hand combat with a German soldier. Defonseca had this to say about being outed as a liar: "This story is mine. It is not actually reality, but my reality." Not actually reality. I don't know what that means in Belgian, but in English, we call it bull@#*%. The really amazing thing in all this is that as the story was being published again and again, apparently not a single editor or publisher looked at the tale and thought, "Maybe we should check this out." The whole "dancing with wolves" thing might have been a tipoff.

Enough's enough

Am I the only one who is revolted to see a virtual army of media - photographers, videographers, cameramen in helicopters - every time Britney Spears drives to McDonald's to get a Big Mac? There's a big market out there for celebrity news. Just look at the magazine racks when you check out at the grocery store. But when it comes to Britney and the other Hollywood tartlets - Paris Hilton, the Olsen twins, Lindsay Lohan, Kim Kardashian, etc. - we've reached the point of overload. And the only discernable talent Hilton or Kardashian ever displayed was on sex videos. Britney Spears took a smidgen of talent and the fact that she was, at one time, built like a brick, um, outhouse, and took it to the bank. As her looks decline and her mental state crumbles, she becomes less and less marketable as an entertainment entity but more and more valuable to the media's vulture sector as a walking train wreck. The coverage of Britney's woes ranges from that of newspapers like ours that run the occasional blurb about her latest court appearance or meltdown to freelance photographers who use zoom lenses to get snapshots of her unclad crotch, then sell the photos to the highest bidder. Britney is a cash cow for shows such as "Entertainment Tonight" and "Access Hollywood." If they have a choice between a story about a catfight on the set of "Desperate Housewives" and video of a crazy has-been singer attacking an SUV with an umbrella, which one do you think they're going to lead the show with? Even the venerable Associated Press is not above regaling us with the misdeeds of the young, rich and stupid. An AP story that hit the wires recently about a pre-Grammys party had the following sentence about Ms. Hilton: "Hilton shimmied and stuck her middle fingers into the air as the band One Republic performed." And we needed to know that? It's apparent to everyone that Britney Spears is either heavily addicted to drugs or mentally ill, or both. But it would be fruitless to suggest that all the media just back off and at least give her a chance to get her life straightened out. There's too much money to be made, especially if she pulls a Heath Ledger.