Tracy at Random

Worst. Christmas Carols. Ever. (2010 verson)

2010-12-23T11:22:00.000-08:00

As some of you might remember, every year my brother Tom and I get our inner Grinches on and post our Annual List of the Worst Christmas Carols Ever. This wonderful holiday tradition continues below.

If sarcasm and general crotchety-ness puts a damper on your Christmas spirit, you’ll want to stop reading now and go hug an elf or continue spreading sunshine and lollipops and wherever you take your relentlessly perky self, because we’re just not your kind of people.

If not, welcome, friends--read on, and feel free to add your own.

TOM: I’ll start with “Jolly Old St. Nicholas” by Chicago. So Chicago decided in 2003 to put out a Christmas album. And they decided to add this "gem." This one just reeks of desperation. They are trying to sound young, hip, and rockin', and it really is just a sorry effort.
.

TRACY: Oh, my God, Chicago. The new lead singer on this album (new being relative, since the last time Tom and I listened to them was in 1987 when they still had Peter Cetera) is awful! It sounds like some garage band found some overwrought lead singer from the Sheboygan Press classifieds and somehow blackmailed Chicago’s brass section into playing in the background. (Chicago’s brass section = still awesome.)

TOM: There is only one Chicago and that is with Peter Cetera at the helm.
.

TRACY: Let the church say “Amen!” If Chicago wants to continue releasing albums, they need to get Peter Cetera back.

TOM: Of course, he is suffering from the same disease as Dennis DeYoung and Steve Perry in which a lead singer believes that he is better than the band, leaves, and both of them become a joke. (Gwen Stefani had it briefly, but was cured, and Eddie Vedder has avoided it.)
.

TRACY: Well then, they need to go to the Philippines and find some dude who sounds just like Peter Cetera.

TOM: Just as long as they don't do a reality show!

TRACY: Here’s my first pick: On the 30th anniversary of John Lennon's death, we have ... The Radio City Rockettes, step-kicking all over his brilliant musical legacy with their version of "Happy Christmas (War is Over)."

Dear God, there are no words.

Oh, wait. Maybe there are a few.

Dear Radio City Rockettes,

I understand that you are collectively a New York City institution, and no amount of feminist sturm und drang is going to get you to trade your pasties and fringe for business suits and briefcases. I get that. You were blessed with fabulous legs, and you like showing them off. Fine. And okay, I understand that maybe an hour silent can-canning might be boring, so you feel you have to "sing" to give the public their money's worth. But really--John Lennon?

The man is a legend. And you? You are basically 47 pairs of legs and a bunch of feathers. Musical legend + legs and feathers = a whole lot of disrespect.

Please stop. Now.

Sincerely,

Me

TOM: P.S. Any further listings of the Lennon song should no longer have Yoko Ono's name attached. She can attach her name to the Rockettes' version.

Next is “Sleigh Ride,” by Andy Williams: I do like some Andy Williams Christmas songs, but this is a mess from start to finish. It starts with the backup singers singing "Jing-a-ling, jing, jing-a-ling" and goes downhill from there. My biggest complaint is the music. Close your eyes, concentrate on just the music and not the vocals, and then imagine listening to Rod Roddy describes the prizes in the showcase showdown. It is straight out of the Price is Right. (RIP Rod Roddy. Wesside.) .

TRACY: I take your Andy Williams “Sleigh Ride” and raise it by one Debbie Gibson’s “Sleigh Ride.”

How we let this one get past us for so many years is a gross oversight--one that I will rectify immediately. This one is so painful, it makes my ears hurt to even recall it. Now I never had a problem with Debbie Gibson in the 1980s. I wasn't a huge fan of mall pop, but I sympathized with the media's manufactured rivalry between her and Tiffany, and I respected that she wrote her own mall pop songs. But then she became an obnoxious adult who pretty much sets my teeth on edge every time I see her on my television. Watch the Broadway-themed extra on the Beauty and the Beast Blu-ray, and you'll see what I mean. Everyone else says something along the lines of, "I loved playing this role so much, and having it on stage was awesome." But not Debbie. Debbie is all, "Blah, blah, blah, me, me, me, I was Belle on Broadway, me." And her back-talking stint on Skating with Celebrities still makes me want to jab my eardrums out.

So I was driving along the other day, and this horrible, horrible version of "Sleigh Ride" came on. After about two seconds, I said to myself, "Who is this insipid person who is ruining one of the most beloved Christmas carols of all time?" I looked down at my satellite radio display, and sure enough: Debbie Gibson.

If her nasal, entitled voice isn't enough to make you take a hammer and chisel to your radio, then the backup singers shrieking "SLEIGH RIDE! SLEIGH RIDE!" every second beat might just do the trick. (SLEIGH RIDE!) Because unless you're playing this version (SLEIGH RIDE!) for a group of people with severe short-term memory problems (SLEIGH RIDE!), there is absolutely no reason to yell the name of the song (SLEIGH RIDE!) over and over and over again.

TOM: C'mon, this is the woman who gave the world "Shake Your Love." What a delicate genius!

My next pick is a two-parter. These are both from the long lost Star Wars Holiday Special. I am a huge Star Wars fan, but I can't bear to watch this craptacular. The first is the song that Princess Leia does. I don't even know the name, but the Unintentional Comedy Scale is off the charts. I don't know where to start--the Wookies in Snuggies, Harrison Ford and Mark Hamill trying to look interested like it is a deep song, or trying to figure out how coked up Carrie Fisher is.

TRACY: (Answer: SO coked up. Bless her heart.

TOM: The scenes from Star Wars that have been crowbarred in are a nice touch. We should have never let George Lucas be in charge of the prequels after seeing this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N7v6OapFp9w

The other song is Bea Arthur's appearance as a bartender in the special. She serves as a great example by letting aliens pounding on tables influence her to ignore the legal bar time and serve up another round. Plus she does it on the house! Not only does she flaunt her disregard for the laws of the government, but she also is harming the company's bottom line! Plus, she doesn't call a cab for the huge, obviously drunk alien at around the 2:30 mark. Hey, and is that Greedo in there?! I though he was dead! The most egregious thing is that they writers thought "Hey! Let's take the Cantina Band Song that everyone loved from Star Wars, slow it down and take down a key, and make a new song!" Booooooooooo!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RzXKySxPFCI

TRACY: I’d add my own take, but I’m laughing too hard. Let the nation be warned—you don’ta mess wit’ the Star Wars. Or suffer the wrath of Tom.

Boney M makes an appearance for the second year in a row with it's "Mary's Boy Chil'/O My Lord." .

TOM: I believe Boney M. is a two-time winner! .

TRACY: This song is a franken-mess of "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," a group of insane people humming, a Davey Jones impersonator, and a very poor group of singers with exaggerated Caribbean accents--set to steel drums and a "reggae" (I use that term loosely) beat.

My Christmas wish is for Germany to deport these people someplace where there is no studio recording equipment.

TOM: “A Child is Born,” by Rihanna: Yes, I get that she is from the Bahamas, but I still don't like this Rasta sounding song. When I hear it, I think of the Baby J, in a manger with dreds, watching Cool Runnings and drinking Red Stripe beer. If a stereotype had a sound, this album would be it.

TRACY: Even though Jessica Simpson's album "ReJoyce" (still don't know who Joyce is) was quite enough, thankyouverymuch, Papa Joe Simpson, the world's creepiest father who is not a child molester, had to trot Jessica out one more time for yet another round of Christmas carol massacre. And so we get "Happy Christmas" (because obviously she now thinks she's British), a collection of holiday favorites set to the dying gasps of her career.

.Our brother Troy subjected us to said album (much like the people in that notorious group-think experiment were subjected to increasing bursts of electroshock) this past Thanksgiving, and I can safely say I will not be hurrying over to iTunes to purchase it.

The biggest Christmas sin on this album (besides her porn star version of "Happy Christmas (War is Over" and bringing in sister Ashlee to "sing" with her) was the breathless baby voice she uses for EVERY FREAKING SONG. Two seconds of Madonna's "Santa Baby" is about all any sane person can take of a grown woman infantilizing herself by singing like a two-year-old with a speech impediment. The world did not need an entire album of that kind of mess.

My least favorite (and it was quite the competition) would have to be her version of "Mary Did You Know?" I already discussed the idiocy of this song's lyrics last year, when I chose any and all version of it as one of my least favorites.

(Recap: ["My biggest problem with this song] would be lyrics like this one: 'Mary, did you know that your baby boy is lord of all creation?' "I'm just taking a stab here, but after receiving a prediction from her cousin Elizabeth, a VISIT from an ARCHANGEL, a giant star floating over her head for days on end, three kings visiting her in a freaking stable, and a heavenly choir of cherubim and seraphim singing in the sky shortly after she gave birth, I'm guessing that she does, Captain Obvious.")

But Jessica's version now has the honor of rising above the rest as my most hated version of this song. She sounds like she wants to make out with Mary, and that's just WRONG, people.

TOM: This is where I need to insert a song that HAS to be made: John Mayer doing "This Christmas. It doesn't exist, but it needs to just for the fact that I would love to see Jessica Simpson listening to it at home thinking, "Please let it be this Christmas, John. Waaaaaahhh!" That would be just punishment for this basura!

My next actual pick is an album. Actually, the music on this album isn't so bad—my problem is the name of the album. When it was released, it was probably okay, but now, it could be the scariest Christmas album in history. It is "A Christmas Gift to You from Phil Spector."
.

Thanks, Phil, for the Ronettes and Darlene Love! And, is that a gun in your hand? What is up with the weird hair? You want to put the gun in my mouth?

I would love to see the sales figures on iTunes from that one.

TRACY: I've gained a lot more respect for Josh Groban since he poked fun of his own image on Glee and added his vocal stylings to Sarah Silverman's "I'm F---ing Matt Damon." (Hilarious!) So even though I've bashed him pretty much ever year since we started doing this, I decided to give him another try when he popped up on Sirius singing "O, Holy Night." Let the record show that I tried, people.

I think he needs to change the name of his version of the song to "O . . . . Holy . . . . Night." Because he sings … so … slowly … it's a wonder that the lyrics don't start coming out of his mouth backwards. "O Holy Night" is one of my favorite carols ever, but I can't take Josh Groban making it sound like a funeral dirge. Whatever happened to raising me up, Groban? Your "O Holy Night" just makes me want to dress in sackcloth and ashes and go mourn something.

That's all we've got this year! Please feel free to add your un-favorites below. And if you want to check out our Worst Christmas Carols Ever lists of years' past, find 2009 here: http://community.eharlequin.com/content/worst-christmas-carols-ever-2009-edition

2008 here: http://community.eharlequin.com/content/more-worst-christmas-carols-ever-part-2

and a Hall of Shame combining 2007 and 2006 here: http://community.eharlequin.com/content/worst-christmas-carols-ever

American Idol: Top 12!

2010-03-23T09:58:00.000-07:00

As always, I'm bringing in my brother Troy for our joint recapping of American Idol's top 12. Enjoy!

TRACY: Well, Troy, another year, another American Idol top 12.

TROY: Another year of Tracy and Troy week-late recaps!

TRACY:Ready to go?

TROY:Bring it.

TRACY:So far, I’ve been pretty meh about this year’s group of singers ...

TROY:(You mean Idol’s WORST. SEASON. EVAH?)

TRACY:...especially after last week’s Elimination of Bitterness, which resulted in the demise of one of my favorite singers, Alex Lambert. I think Lily Scott was totally robbed, too, and I even feel insulted for Katelyn and Todrick, because both of them had enough original spark that they deserved to outlast the plain vanilla likes of Katie, Paige, and Tim.

TROY:WORD. But I’d like to also add in Lacey to that pile of shame (although, really, isn’t that just adding insult to injury now? Plus I know you liked her….)

TRACY:(I did.) But there’s no judges’ save in the semis this year, so the Idol juggernaut juggers on without Alex and his Plushenko hair. Sick and wrong, man.

TROY:But there is a judges’ save for the top 12! Thank god. This way America won’t let Aaron Kelley slip through the cracks.

TRACY: The horror. On to last Tuesday night. I never realized how much I actually love the Rolling Stones until I heard their truly, massively awesome song catalog aurally drawn and quartered last Tuesday night. After I staunch the bleeding in my ears, I think I’m going to find one of their greatest hits compilations and crank it until the urge to down a bottle of lithium and make the bad man singing reggae go away leaves my restless mind.

TROY:Agreed! I tend to make fun of the ancient Stones (Super Bowl halftime show? Really?) and was griping about how much I was expecting to hate this episode. Instead, I found myself loving most of the songs (if not the contestant massacre of most).

Mick Jagger--I salute you (but am still creeped out by some of Mackenzie Phillips’ recollections of him).

TRACY: Oh, you had to bring that up. Ick.

First up was MICHAEL LYNCHE, who delivered a mildly pleasant take on “Miss You.” I just don’t get all the love for this guy. He seems super sweet, and my heart grows three sizes whenever Fox shows his new baby. If were voting for America’s Top Next-Door Neighbor, Big Mike would get my vote 100%. But singing? I’m just sort of meh about him. He’s pleasant to listen to, but for some odd reason, I always find myself comparing him to Seal. And he always loses.

TROY:WORD. I’m still baffled over what triggered Kara DioHotMess’ tears o’ shame last week, but it certainly can’t be Big Mike’s performance. Totally a nice guy (although seemingly pain-inflicting, given his ketchup bottle-squeeze hugs on Ryan), but I can’t handle him each week. I get flashbacks to Matt Rogers and that is NOT a good comparison. Meh.

TRACY:Plus the dancing. Oh, the dancing. If you painted Michael green and gave him little trumpet-shaped ears, he’d be a dead ringer for Shrek cavorting in the swamp to “I’m a Believer.” Not hot.

TROY:Let’s be honest … this guy is Velveeta and we’re looking for the American Idol, not the next Universal Studios tour guide.

TRACY:I’ve liked LACEY BROWN a LOT more than the judges have so far in the competition, and I totally get her groovy signature warble. But I thought she jumpin’ jacked UP “Ruby Tuesday,” one of my favorite Stones hits. Staying on key would have been a good start, but there was something too painstakingly deliberate about her delivery last night. Feel the song, honey. Just feel the song.

TROY:I’ve kinda hated Lacey Brown. Sure, she has great hair and, in my opinion, is really gorgeous, but she has a voice could herd cats. Screechy and bleaty, I felt like you could play a drinking game with her performances (“Drink everytime she goes off key!” – you’ll have severe alcohol poisoning at the end of 2 ½ minutes).

TRACY: Mean!

It probably would have been deemed too copycat, but I’ve thought since the beginning that she’d sound gorgeous doing The Sundays’ version of “Wild Horses.” (Curse you, Katie Stevens!!!!)

TROY:You Buffy nerd (but I totally thought the same thing).

TRACY: Let the record show that I liked that verion long before it was on Buffy.

Oh, and what was up with Lacey's Wilma-Flintstone-as-a-Venetian-gondolier T-shirt under the beige and black lace cocktail dress? Seriously not working. Not even in the store window of Charlotte Russe.

I agreed totally with Simon that CASEY JAMES is a really good singer, but he needs to bring something MORE (I don’t know, just MORE) to his Idol performances. I’m not sure how long dude can coast on just standing there on the stage with a lazy grin, delivering more-than-competent-but-not-quite-outstanding performances, but I don’t think it’ll be until the end. That said, how can you not like a guy who rebuilt his own house and oozes genuineness when claiming he’s the least talented member of his family? (Sorry—the blonde hair, it dazzles.) Once he’s through with Idol, he needs to front a band, because he could do his stand-and-deliver thing as part of a group, no problem.

TROY:I can’t decide if Casey’s act is super dopey (“I’m Casey! I love to sing!”) or really cocky (“Kara wants to schtup me. Free pass to final 4!”). I do think it’s the former, but the boy really needs to step up his game. Big Mike is running across the stage like a madman and Casey can’t even shuffle his feet?

Love his voice, but still MEH on Casey overall.

TRACY:Perhaps part of the problem was that once again, I spent half the performance worrying that the Zombie Jamboree in the mosh pit was going to eat him once they were done spasmodically waving. CREEEEEpyyyyyyy.

TROY:Casey wasn’t very lively himself - think he would have survived (Shawn of the Dead style).

TRACY:Gotta give it to PAIGE MILES for busting out some power notes last night with laryngitis. Before I knew she was sick, I told my husband I thought “Honky Tonk Woman” was her best performance of the show so far. I totally think she needs to steal Haley’s schtick and go all “I’m African-American! And I’m country, y’all!” Number one, there’s just a bit of a void in country music when it comes to black women singers. Number two, it’d give this pretty but up-to-now rather generic performer a much-needed stamp of originality.

TROY:Paige Paige Paige. Sigh.

While I agree with you, I just can’t seem to care about this girl anymore. She has a good voice, but that’s where it ends as she has zero personality. This song was fine and props to her for singing with laryngitis, but just … whatever.

Also, do we need to revisit the “Smile” debacle from a few weeks ago? Girl couldn’t hit any of the notes and said she was so emotional because the song reminded her of Michael Jackson. REALLY?

TRACY::::We interrupt this AI recap to bring you an episode of Dear God, What Was She Wearing?::::

A denim onesie? Really? With weird tights? And horrible, mismatched boots? Did she raid the old One Day at a Time wardrobe trailer to come up with that outfit when the Idol stylist wasn’t looking? Dear God, WHAT was she wearing?!?!

Ahem.

Troy, I can’t believe I’m typing this. In fact, I’m not sure I CAN type this. Hurts. Too. Much.

TROY:Do you need to sit down? A fan? Vodka?

TRACY:(How about all of the above?) I actually agreed with Kara (OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH, the paaaaaaiiiiinnnnnnn!!!!!!) when she said, with her usual freakish intensity, that ANDREW GARCIA should have added some more (not-so-freakish) intensity to his delivery of the Stones’ anti-war anthem “Gimme Shelter.”

Again, it’s an ANTI-WAR ANTHEM. That phrase alone should make a singer stand up and growl and belt and cry to the heavens when singing a song that fits that category.

Andrew made a very smart decision to drop the guitar and deliver something different, and his vocals were really quite pleasant. I would have actually like the song if it hadn’t been an ANTI-WAR ANTHEM.

When Mick Jagger delivers an ANTI-WAR ANTHEM (I can’t stop typing that in all caps), he struts, he pouts, he points and snarls. The underlying message is something along the lines of, “Yeah, this war? EFF this war! And eff all y’all until this war is OVER! End the war! END IT, you motherf----rs!!!!!”

When Andrew delivers an anti-war anthem (doesn’t deserve the all caps), it’s more like,

“Um, yeah, hi. So this war? Maybe it might be time to end it? No? Okay, then. That’s all right. I’ll just go now.”

TROY:Whoa. Did Kara just takeover my sister for a second? That critique was slightly freakishly intense. J

TRACY:Yeah, like you've never gone there, Tyra.

TROY:Also, you mentioned “ANTI-WAR ANTHEM” almost as much as the judges have mentioned Andrew’s “Straight Up” performance. Judges--we get it. Andrew peaked with “Straight Up” in Hollywood. He has no hope and is as sad as Meg Ryan’s career.

TRACY:So, singing was a’ight, but someone really needs to start feeling his songs. And while I’m at it….

Dear Andrew Garcia,

Please don’t ever sing about someone “rubbing you the right way” ever, ever again.

TROY:IckIckIckIckIckIck

TRACY:It’s creepy. I’m not sure why it works when Christina Aguilera sings it, but you sounded like a child molester. Regardless of how tempting it may be, do not go there at any point in the future, lest I be tempted to gouge out my eardrums with a spoon.

Sincerely,

Me

TROY:Co-signing.

TRACY:Oh, KATIE STEVENS. Such a sweet girl. So very, very dull on the stage. I think they should have encouraged her to try out in a couple of years instead of letting her into the top 24, because the girl just isn’t soup yet. Of COURSE she sang “Wild Horses,” (Susan Boyle did it!) because she probably hasn’t even heard of any other Rolling Stones song in the short course of her life.

“Wild Horses” is seriously one of my favorite songs ever in the history of ever. I love it when Mick sings it, and (sacrilege!) I love The Sundays’ eerie cover even more (Buffy + Angel = 4-EVA!). I don’t even mind Susan Boyle’s version, even though no one can improve on The Sundays. But Katie Stevens? She sang that ballad of intense romantic longing with all the intense romantic longing of Miss South Carolina delivering a treatise on why the people of Iran should have maps.

I cannot forgive, Troy. I want her expunged.

TROY:I totally agree. THIS was the song I was looking the most forward to and was praying that anyone BUT Katie would sing this. Sure enough, Katiebot 2000 takes the stage to perform Buffy and Angel’s prom song. Automatic hate.

This was bad, Tracy. Reaaallllly bad. Completely devoid of any passion or comprehension of what the song means, Katie got up there and tried to lull us into a deep sleep. She seems like a sweet girt, but I’m thinking her only potential for a singing career is for lead vocals on the next Kidz Bop album.

It has to be said: Lilly got booted for this?

TRACY:And Alex.

Dear God, TIM URBAN. Normally, I would just refuse to acknowledge Sir Helmet Hair out of respect for the fallen Alex Lambert (and in honor of Jesse Langseth and Tami Gosnell. Still bitter.). But what the crunk did he do to “Under My Thumb?!?!” I’m not even going to give him props … I’m not even going to give him a SINGLE prop, not one prop for trying to do something different. The SONG is called UNDER MY THUMB. There is a LYRIC in it that compares the girl who broke the singer’s heart to a SQUIRMING DOG.

Think maybe there’s something a little angry about this song maybe, hmmm, Tim?

TROY:This was a trainwreck. I wanted someone to go steal Tim’s lunch money, because what a NERDY performance. His vocals have gotten … less off-key, but that creepy, vacant stare into the camera seriously gives me nightmares.

TRACY:SERIOUSLY! FEEL YOUR SONG!!!! FEEL IT!!!!! FEEEEEEEEEEL IIIIIIIITTTTTTT!!!!!!!! Do not turn a dark song-spiral of torment, misogyny, and abuse into a lovely little poolside ditty, you silly, callow little man.

Obviously he is a nice guy from a nice family, but that is not enough to win a recording contract. (Please, Lord, let it not be enough.)

TROY:It unfortunately doesn’t matter what we think in this case. Urban’s here to stay for awhile thanks to the teen girl vote. He’s the male (and nicer) version of last season’s Bikini Girl.

TRACY:Oh, and what is up with the HELMET made of HAIR sitting on his skull? Is this trendy now? It makes me want to hunt down probable disturbing trendsetter Justin Bieber and sit on him until the guys from Jackass can come and shave his head. Or at least snap a barrette over his forehead.

On the polar opposite end of the scale, I love LEE DEWYZE every time, because he has that cool rasp to his voice and he totally feels his song. And even if said song is a powerfully original interpretation or a “safe” but heartfelt slow jam, I feel it, too. He’s likeable, he’s competent, he’s original, and doggoneit, I like him.

That said, I do agree with Simon again that he needs to step it up and have “a moment.” (Is there anything more paralyzing than someone getting all up in your face and demanding that you have “a moment.” I think not. So I don’t really hold it against Lee that he hasn’t had “a moment” yet, but I do hope he can pull one out soon.)

TROY:I think Lee is the Allison Iraheta/Elliot Yamin contestant this year. He’s so incredibly talented, but also flying under the radar with his proficient, but not notable performances.

Lee comes on stage, does his thing, but isn’t quite yet standing out to show what he’s made of. I think his moment will come once he gets a little more comfortable with himself.

Of course, now that I said that, he’ll surely be voted out next week. Eff.

TRACY:I hope not--that would be a tragedy of Katherine-MacPhee-in-second- place-over-Daughtry-and-Yamin proportions.

AARON KELLY sang “Angie.” It was all right. (Yawn.)

At least he did something different with his hair, instead of having the Army of Perfectly Matched Stepford Spikes sitting atop his head.

TROY:Oh Aaron. He’s like a less charismatic, less talented version of David Archuleta. I’m bored just talking about him.

TRACY:I’ve thought all along that the judges have been unjustly awful to DIDI BENAMI. I even didn’t mind “Lean on Me….”

TROY:(HATED IT.)

TRACY:Though that’s a really hard song to mess with since it’s so well known. I love her hippy-chick vibe, I love her wacky vibrato, and I love that she calls her mom “Mommy Benami.”

I also loved “Playing with Fire.” Didi always does something wholly original with the melody, but it sounds so effortless, you barely notice how accomplished of a song arranger she is. The fact that she’s lasted this long while serving as the judges’ cannon fodder for FAR too long could make her the dark horse of this competition. If there is any justice in this world, look for her to crack at least the top four, at worst.

TROY:You know, I’ve been hard on Didi since the competition started. Loved her Kara song, but have just been constantly disappointed since (Pitchiest “Rhiannon” ever!). However, “Playing with Fire” has been one of the only performances that’s been stuck in my head since Tuesday night. Loved Didi’s almost perfect vocals on a slightly haunting take of the song. I may even have to take back my earlier statement declaring her Brooke White 2.0.

(The title will be reinstated if she decides to stop and start one of her upcoming performances…or spastically interrupt the judges like she’s Rain Man while they critique).

TRACY:Agreed, although calling anyone that sweet and talented Brooke White is slightly horrifying.

Preventing a Didi Benami win at this time would be one SIOBHAN MAGNUS and one CRYSTAL BOWERSOX.

Crystal delivered yet another Joplinesque powerhouse with “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” She’s flawless, and the only thing standing between her and the Idol crown is the fact that she doesn’t have too far to grow, so some voters may get complacent or even tired of said flawlessness. (Oh, and Siobhan, of course.)

TROY:Joplinesque? I can’t go that far (see Allison Iraheta’s amazing exit performance last season for that distinction), but I do like the Bowersox. I do feel like she’s missing a little bit of energy on stage, but I get that that’s her thing. She still rocked it and I loved her for it.

TRACY:But didn’t you just want to punch Kara right between her crazy Runaway Bride Eyes when she started talking about how Mama Sox was getting “cocky” and seemed to think she had the competition won? Thanks, Kara. Let’s just go plant the seeds of sabotage into the viewers’ minds, because it’ll be so fun to watch one of the most deserving contestants get axed prematurely so we can be treated to Katie “the female Barry Manilow” Stevens albums instead.

Idiot.

Had to love how Crystal put the kibosh on that by 1) managing to defend herself without having a Guarini “what did you all think?” moment; 2) genuinely admitting that Siobhan was “awesome”; and 3) wearing a peacock feather to protest Lilly Scott’s premature ouster.

If a MAN were to be all stoic and confident on the stage (um, hello, Casey), I’d bet my last copy of The Feminist Mystique that Kara wouldn’t bat an eyelash. But when a woman does the same thing, she calls her out as cocky. My inner feminist is SCREAMING at the self-described (ugh) “cougar” right now, and once she is done, she is going to have a good cry at the state of this alleged “post-feminist” era.

TROY:Excuse you. Kara embodies the word” feminist.” What, with her bikini spreads in Maxim, Women’s Health, etc….

TRACY:Somebody give Gloria Steinem a cattle prod and have her stand behind Kara for the duration of the show, please.

“I’m a cougar!”

:::Zzzzzzzt!::::

“Simon, you’re so smart. Do you agree with me? Do you? Huh?”

:::Zzzzzzzt!::::

“But I’m a cougar!”

:::Zzzzzzzt!::::

TROY:You good?

TRACY:It's a lovely visual. You should try it sometime.

TROY:(Team Kara!!)

Kidding.

TRACY:And that brings me to SIOBHAN MAGNUS. I understand that the quirky little glassblower might be a little polarizing, not in small part because of that slightly not-all-there smile she sometimes gives the camera. But between the badly drawn Mary Poppins tattoo and her sweet 60s-throwback parents, there’s more to Siobhan than first meets the eye.

She definitely showed it with her dark, dramatic, and powerfully original take on “Paint It Black” (thankfully erasing Gina Glocksen’s “version” from a few seasons ago from my brain). Love the drama, loved the way she reworked the melody, loved the gorgeous, lilting ending.

And I massively, massively adored the Valkyrie Shriek at the end. Every time she does that, my husband Jose and I usually end up breaking out into applause and yelling, “That was AWESOME!” at our TV like a Latino Chris Farley and David Spade.

And then, inevitably, one of us stops, folds our hands under our arms, and mumbles, “You know, she can’t hear us” at the other.

TROY:I normally think Siobhan sounds a bit monotonous in her performances (save the token, glory note), but I downloaded the mp3 of “Paint it Black” and have been listening to it on repeat. The girl sounds amazing when she records and she certainly bring something interesting and intense to each of her performances. She’s just so INTERESTING--I’m always curious to hear what she’s going to say and what song she’s going to choose. Siobhan makes me care, and let’s be honest, that’s rare in season 9.

Who knew she’d clean up so well too?

TRACY:She reminds me of a more rocking Heather Nova (alternative 90s singer-songwriter. “London Rain?”)

TROY:(Say What?)

TRACY:(“Walk This World?”) … No?). Love “Paint It Black,” love her, love the surprise she brings to every performance.

Because if I can’t have Adam Lambert back for every season of American Idol, then just bring on someone like Siobhan.

TROY:Preach (although I do sorta wish the Glambert were back this year to show these contestants a thing or two about owning a song).

TRACY:Last week, I predicted (hoped, prayed) that Katie Stevens would be butchering her swan song on Thursday, or Tim Urban. Sadly, it was not to be.

TROY:Unfortunately, we did not get the outster of Katiebot 2000. Still, I can’t say I was wicked devastated to see bad bad Lacey Brown go.

Can this week be a triple elimination of Tim, Paige and Katie (I’m fine substituting in Aaron as well).

TRACY:Agreed!

Worst. Christmas Carols. Ever. (2009 Edition)

2009-12-15T09:43:00.000-08:00

As some of you may remember from last year, my brother Tom and I have an annual tradition of bashing bad Christmas carols*. Some people bake cookies together. Some make holiday crafts. Some volunteer at a shelter or soup kitchen. Tom and I listen to horrible music and then spew bitter, holiday-themed invective on public blogs. This is probably a sad commentary on our states of mind, but there it is....

So, putting the fun in dysfunctional, as the saying goes, we present our 2009 edition of the Worst. Christmas Carols. EVAH.

TOM SAYS: Before I begin our annual tradition of bashing bad Christmas songs, I do need to dislocate my shoulder and pat myself on the back. As many of you know, a lot of my angst was derived from the fact that Sirius Satellite Radio (of which I have been a loyal subscriber since 2004) would play Christmas music starting around Thanksgiving and include some of the most God-awful tunes you have ever heard. And they would repeat them. Often. So, I began a letter-writing campaign every year.

TRACY SAYS: My brother the activist.

TOM SAYS: To my surprise, this year Sirius has created multiple holiday-themed channels, including a “Holiday Traditions” channel (channel 4) for someone like me who wants to hear the classic carols. They have also created a contemporary channel called “Holly,” which is channel 3. Let me be the first to draw a chalk line around this channel and put up police tape. This is where you will find some of the worst Christmas songs of all time!

This new arrangement makes me very happy. (And if you want to listen to Michael Bolton or Rod Stewart singlehandedly murder holiday song after holiday song, it will make you happy, too). Why, you ask? Because I am a big proponent of the idea that if you don’t like what you are watching or listening to, then change the channel. No need to ruin it for everyone else. Therefore, I do not have to listen because I have a choice—Channel 4! Although, for the purposes of this blog, I listened to Channel 3 for 15 minutes and had enough material for the next ten years!

So anyway, I am going to ask my Naval officer brother-in-law to get me a flight suit, an aircraft carrier, a jet to take me to the carrier, and a big “Mission Accomplished” sign celebrating the fact that I no longer have to listen to crap Christmas music!

TRACY SAYS: He says he’s working on it. Nicely done! Gandhi would be proud.

TOM SAYS: Next letter-writing campaign involves getting rid of Michael Bay from the Transformers movie franchise….

TRACY SAYS: I haven’t even watched the sequel yet. Guess I should skip it then….

Anyhoo, onward! My first pick is ::::drumroll::::

Anything by the Backstreet Boys and NSYNC.

(Where does that stupid asterisk go again? *NSYNC? N*SYNC? NSYNC*? Stupid inner copyeditor, making me care.)

I don't know what's up with Sirius these days, but channel 3 plays a "carol" (and I use that term loosely) by one of these two horrific boy bands at least once per hour. Which means that every time I get in the car, I have a roughly 50% chance of driving into a snowbank due to radio-induced road rage.

WHY? WHY? WHAT DID WE EVER DO TO YOU, SIRIUS?!?!

TOM SAYS: Quick Tracy! Get off of channel 3! Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

TRACY SAYS: I know, but sometimes, a girl just wants to hear a little Band-Aid.

I blame the merger with XM for this proliferation of boy band putrescence. Because otherwise, the world just doesn't make sense. Which reminds me:

Dear 30-something Sirius Christmas program director channeling her inner 12-year-old,

The Backstreet Boys and NSYNC are no longer hip. Take out your shoulder pads; straighten that perm; put away your fishnet, fingerless Madonna gloves; and let the holiday spirit move you to start a musical evolution inside yourself.

I suggest beginning with ‘90s alternative and moving on from there. Since flannel shirts are making a comeback, you’ll be in good company.

Sincerely,

Me

TOM SAYS: This pick goes along with the boy band theme.

“The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire)” by 98 Degrees.

I can cut to the chase pretty easy on this one—they suck. But here is what puts it over the top for me—the fact that they had to add “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire” in parentheses. THAT IS NOT THE NAME OF THE SONG! If you are too dumb to know that, you cannot celebrate Christmas this year.

TRACY SAYS: Agreed! Adding insult to aural injury is …

“The Little Drummer Boy," also by 98 Degrees

Seriously??!?!?! I mean SERIOUSLY???? As if this song weren’t melodramatic enough (yeah, so I tear up every time I hear it. What of it?), someone needed to boy-band it to death?

Horrible. Just horrible. I can practically see them all stretching their hands out and reaching-for-but-not-quite-touching the listening audience, and then swiftly pulling those hands back into a clenched Fist O’ Pain and Suffering. And it makes me want to die of barfness.

The ONLY version of “Little Drummer Boy” that should be allowed on the radio is the one by Bing and Bowie. No one else needs to sing this song. No one.

Freaking boy bands.

TOM SAYS: My next pick is “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” by Band Aid.

TRACY: :::incredulous, google-eyed stare:::

TOM SAYS: Before my sister freaks out at me, I have to clarify that I hate the extended version of this song. The reason being is that they go into an extended interlude where a lot of the singers are wishing the people of Africa “Merry/Happy Christmas.”

TRACY SAYS: Okay, I’ll totally give you this one. Let it be written that spoken-word interludes in holiday carols are the devil.

TOM SAYS: The topper is Bob Geldof letting everyone in Africa know on the recording that he has been up all night and what day it is in London. LIKE THEY CARE! If anyone is in the middle of a famine, they are saying “Send me some food!” or “Can I sleep in your house?!”

TRACY SAYS: Exactly. I’m in the middle of a famine and a genocidal war, but gee, I’m so sad you bunch of bajillionaires had to stay up all night SINGING.

Oh, and by the way, Geldof, the ENTIRE CONTINENT OF AFRICA IS NOT A SALLY STRUTHERS PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT. Just saying.

TOM SAYS: For all of you wondering what I am talking about, here is a link to the extended mix of "Do They Know it's Christmas?"

Forward to about the 2:30 mark. First of all, the music here sounds absolutely frightening. Then, the holiday "greetings" to the people of Africa start:

First up, Bono: "Well, this is Bono here—the singer of U2." (Person listening thinking, "Oh thank God it is THAT Bono. I might have confused him with another Bono. He is just part of the biggest band currently. Oh well, by 1992, we won't even remember who this guy is.")

Next, Sir Paul McCartney. I now realize why fate sent him Heather Mills. "Hi, this is Paul McCartney. Sorry that I can't be with you." and he punctuates it with a "Suck on that, Africa. I am kickin' it in my mansion! All of these idiots listening can pay for food in Africa but I need to buy another Monet." :::evil laugh:::

TRACY SAYS: And you accuse me of having an exaggeration problem.

TOM SAYS: Then, we have to keep hearing, "Hi, this is Paul McCartney." over and over. Karma boomerang, Sir Paul!

Then, some dude from Frankie Goes to Hollywood comes up a little later. He didn't even have the effort to make it to the studio. Instead, he literally phones it in! Why bother? And he punctuates it with an even more evil laugh than Sir Paul! Let's see how Frankie Goes to Hollywood has done over the last 20 years.

Well, they did do a good job on my lawn.

Of course, there are many more who you can't even understand what they are saying! It might as well be "Hi, this is (insert British rocker name here). I am so blitzed from last night that I can barely talk. Eat something, Africa."

Condescending much?

David Bowie then comes in, rather ominously. Mr. Bad News in this song. He has to give his greeting as creepily as possible. Very Orwellian.

To wrap it up, we get Bob Geldof. I still don't know why he is famous, and I do not want any of you telling me why. I don't need that information clogging up my brain. Anyway, he proceeds to tell us when the record was recorded and that they have been there for over 24 hours. Hey, it isn't my fault that he stayed there all night mixing. He could have wrapped it around midnight, got some sleep and come back refreshed the next morning to finish.

Anyway, when I hear this part, I think of the Christian Bale Terminator Rant and want to hear the part where Bale goes, "Ohhhhh good for you!" (Said rant is at 1:10 of this clip. WARNING: LOTS OF SWEAR WORDS IN THIS.)

Terrible.

TRACY SAYS: Okeedokee then.

My next one is:

Jessica Simpson, pretty much anything from her holiday album.

I know bashing Jessica Simpson has become sort of a national pastime (when did Ashlee become the cool one?), but girlfriend did herself no favors when she put out a Christmas album in 2004 called ReJoyce. My God.

The asthmatic babydoll delivery. The gasping, hiccupy breaths in between phrases. The weird, random vocal swoops every four words or so. It’s like she took a bite of Meg Ryan’s salad from When Harry Met Sally and then decided to channel all that energy into singing Christmas carols because her dad keeps chasing all her boyfriends away.

(Oh, SNAP!)

And don’t even get me started on the “chicken or fish” spelling of the record’s title. Please, Jessica, stop trying to make yourself happen and fade away with a little dignity. Somewhere far, far away from my car radio.

TOM SAYS: I have a specific Jessica Simpson pick—“I saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” Again, horrible singer, horrible family, etc. etc. Here is why I hate this song though—her creepy dad— Papa Joe Simpson (with a nod to creepy Papa John Phillips). For those of you who don’t know about Papa Joe, here is a taste.

Anyway, this song really creeps me out when she sings it. Why? Because I get the thought of her singing about seeing mommy kissing Santa Claus and Papa Joe watching from a nearby closet. I will stop there.

TRACY SAYS: Thank you. My breakfast and I appreciate that.

How about …?

Christina Aguilera, "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing"

Hark, the herald angels are screaming in agony once again. Picking up where Carrie Underwood left off last year, Aguilera decimates one of my favorite classic carols by assaulting it with her special brand of finger-waving vocal gymnastics.

Girlfriend. The lyric is "Gloooooooooooooo-ooooooooooo-oooooooooooo-ooooooooooria."

Not "GloooOOOOHHHWHOOOOAAAAWHOOOAAAAoohhhoohhhhhhhhWHOOAAAoohhhWHOOP
WHOOPwhooooaaaaWEEEEEEEAAaaaaaaaahhhhhwhoooooaRIA!"

Open your eyes, get your finger out of your ear, put down that other stupidly waving hand, and go get your throat checked. Obviously, something is lodged inside that caused this raging bout of vocal incontinence—hairball, maybe?

UGH! UGH to the Nth power!

TOM SAYS: I don’t think that the song is Dirrrrrty enough!

Time for another heart attack for my sister:

The entire “If on a Winter’s Night” album by Gordon Sumner (nee Sting).

TRACY SAYS: SHRIEK!!!!! :::thud::::

TOM SAYS: First of all, I like Sting, the Police, his music, etc. The music on this album doesn’t bother me either (except for “Soul Cake”—what the eff is that all about?).

TRACY SAYS: (“Soul Cake” is pretty! Sting is a musical genius!)

TOM SAYS: Here is what bothers me—Mr. Sumner having a hissy when someone calls this a “Holiday” album. He claims that it is a “Winter Album.” Well, excuuuuuuuuuuuuuse me, Gordo! Last time I checked, “Gabriel’s Message” (track 1), “Christmas at Sea” (track 5), “Lo how a Rose E’er Blooming” (track 6), “The Burning Babe” (track 8), “Lullaby for an Anxious Child” (track 13), “Bethlehem Down” (track 16), and the “Coventry Carol” (track 18) all seem like they have something to do with Christmas.

As far as I know, there was no Child/Baby nor a significant event in Bethlehem for Festivus. I could be wrong though.

TRACY SAYS: Hmmmm. “The Angel Gabriel from heaven came./ His wings as drifted snow, his eyes as flame. /“All hail,” said he, “thou lowly maiden Mary./ Most highly favored lady./Glooooooorrriiiaa.”

Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that the holiday vs. winter album thing is a bit ridiculous. He’s still a musical genius, though.

Moving on …

Lee Ann Rimes, "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree"

Listen up, you snaggle-toothed homewrecker. If you can't add ONE SINGLE NEW THING to Brenda Lee's classic version of this song, why bother inflicting it on us? Other than the occasional nasal country twang moment, every breath and inflection is Lee's, not yours. Which makes your "version" of this an egregious waste of petroleum-based resources and studio time that could have gone to someone with something new to sing, who didn't sleep with a married man with babies.

And no, Eddie Cibrian is not excused from my wrath, but is he out there trying to butcher beloved holiday music?

No, he is not.

TOM SAYS: They should make a video for this with Lee Ann playing the mom to Tiger Woods’ dad. Awesome.

TRACY SAYS: Now that the obligatory Tiger joke is out of the way....

Jimmy Buffett, “Christmas in the Caribbean”

If you’re there singing that awful song, I’ll stay up here and freeze, thank you.

(The Parrotheads are totally coming after me for that one. I love "Son of a Sailor," Parrotheads! Don't hurt me!)

TOM SAYS: For island warmth, substitute two helpings of Bing Crosby’s “Mele Kalekimaka” instead!

TRACY SAYS: I’m not a big fan of that song, either. It’s whole message seems to be, “Hey, I’m spending Christmas somewhere amazing, and you’re in a frozen place that sucks!” Makes me want to punch someone in the face, and that’s not exactly showing the Christmas spirit.

Kimberley Locke, “Jingle Bells”

Kimberly Locke was on my list of best carols last year for her rousing rendition of “Frosty the Snowman,” but even then, I’d pointed out her disturbing tendency to sound like she’s going to kick your @$$ when she sings. As in, “You can be my 8th world wonder. And then I’ll kick your @$$!”

Frosty worked, for some reason, and gave me some respite from the charming but overplayed Jimmy Durante version, which my daughters made me queue up for them over and over and over again. And for that, Ms. Locke, I thank you.

This year, however, Sirius has put Locke’s “Jingle Bells” into heavy rotation, and she’s back to sounding mighty peeved. Which never works well in a Christmas carol.

“Jingle! Bells! Jingle! Bells! JINGLE THOSE G--DAMNED BELLS BEFORE I WRAP A STRING OF THEM AROUND YOUR NECK!!!!!!”

See? Totally doesn’t work.

TOM SAYS: Rob Thomas “A New York Christmas”

First of all, Rob Thomas’ vocalization just doesn’t fit Christmas. It is like he is putting in too much effort and trying to sound gritty. On to the song. He makes this song somehow convey two messages. The first is “Come to NYC. It rules here for Christmas.” Well, Rob, sorry that my Minneapolis/St. Paul Christmas doesn’t quite cut it for you. Do you know why the rest of the country hates New York? Because people always crow how great it is there. Nothing like cramming 8 million people into an 8 square mile area. That sounds like fun. And readers, spare me your bragging about the Yankees. Where are your Giants, Jets, and Knicks right now?

TRACY SAYS: (New York readers, please excuse him. He's REALLY bitter about the Yankees.)

TOM SAYS: The second message says, “New York is a pit right now. We need every single angel to come here and every single person to pray for New York.” I don’t feel bad. I could think of some other places that need help—Kandahar, Baghdad, and Cleveland. I don’t feel bad for you, New York City.

TRACY SAYS: I love NYC! (See the comments section for more on my apology to the entire city of New York.) But in keeping with the theme, here's one: The Radio City Rockettes, “White Christmas”

This one is so bad, I need to address my entire critique to the Rockettes directly, because girlfriends, I want you to take this personally.

Dear Radio City Rockettes,

Okay, so I get that you’re pretty much a New York City institution, and no amount of my inner feminist curling up in a ball and sobbing hysterically is going to make you take a flying leap off my universe. I get that. But did you really have to invade my holiday radio space?

I thought your job was to put on your pasties, smile big, and do some of those high-flying kicks that I’m sure you need a Ph.D. in physics to execute properly. I did not know that you actually think you can collectively sing.

I’m sure some of you who can carry a tune well enough. Hey, maybe there are even one or two belters in the group. But when all of you “sing” en barely clothed masse, it reminds me of those dubious ensemble “talent” numbers from the Miss America pageant. That is not a good thing.

If you insist on clinging to the scrap of nostalgia-driven relevance you still have, I would advise that you to cease and desist with all singing, immediately. You obviously expect audiences to pay to see you—or at the very least, large NYC event planners to pay to use you as a backdrop. Hold up your end of the fame bargain, close your mouths, and look pretty like you’re supposed to.

TOM SAYS: I didn’t even hear any sound coming out of their mouths. I just saw legs….

TRACY SAYS: Typical.

TOM SAYS: All-4-One “Silent Night”

How did these guys ever get popular? They sound like that local a capella group that your local news hired this holiday season to do their Christmas bumpers. You know what I am talking about: They sing bad and totally overdo their act on the commercial. On December 26th, they will go back to living in obscurity and no one will care.

This song really blows though. The harmonies (and the melody for that fact) are just plain bad. They sound like they are being created by an '80s synthesizer played through a bellows.

TRACY SAYS: Which brings me to ... REO Speedwagon, … ROFLMAO!!!!!!

Oh … my … God. … REO—(Can’t. Type. Laughing. Too. Hard.) REO Speedwagon put out a Christmas album this year?!?!

Tom, I can’t even bash it. Because I can’t stop laughing.

TOM SAYS: If they could just duet with Lita Ford!

TRACY SAYS: Genius!

Now, time for me to give Tom a heart attack …

Frank Sinatra, “We Wish You the Merriest”

A big pet peeve of mine is when people don't finish their sentences. My husband, bless his heart, is totally guilty of this. He'll be all, "Hey, Tracy, I was thinking we could--" And then he'll get distracted by something sparkly and wander off, leaving me trailing after him going, "What? What? You were wondering what?"

His standard response is generally, "I forgot." Or "Oh, never mind." Drives me bonkers!

I get that maddening feeling all over again whenever I listen to Frank Sinatra's "We Wish You the Merriest."

Now you know I loves me some Sinatra at Christmas. But this particular tune? It takes him the whole song to FINISH HIS FREAKING SENTENCE. Here's how a recent car trip of mine went:

FRANK: "We wish you the merriest, the merriest..."

TRACY: :::humming along::::

FRANK: "The merriest.

TRACY: "The merriest!"

FRANK: "Oh, the merriest."

TRACY: "OH! the merriest."

FRANK: "We wish you the merriest, the merriest..."

TRACY: :::Stops singing. Starts to get a bit disturbed.::::

FRANK: "...the merriest. Yes, the merriest."

TRACY: "Merriest what?"

FRANK: We wish you the merriest, the merriest..."

TRACY: "What?! What?! The merriest WHAT? You wish me the merriest WHAT?!"

FRANK: "...the merriest to you."

TRACY: "FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, THE MERRIEST WHAT?!?!?!?!"

FRANK: "We wish you the happiest, the happiest...."

::::Tracy drives into a snowbank and starts sobbing uncontrollably.:::

This song is twisted and wrong, and I want it to stop.

I think that’ll just about do it for this year.

TOM SAYS: Just remember, this holiday season, stay away from the carols we’ve discussed in the past that have now made it into our Holiday Hall of Shame: “Wonderful Christmastime” by Paul McCartney, “Santa Baby” by Madonna, “Christmas Shoes” by New Song, and “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.”

TRACY SAYS: “Dominick the Italian Christmas Donkey” by Lou Monte, anything by Michael Bolton and Kenny G, and “All I Want for Christmas is You” by Vince Vance and the Valiants.

* For previous years' carol-bashing (and other entries in our Christmas Carol Hall of Shame), you can visit here and here.

Anyone have any songs they'd like to add to our Hall of Shame?

On Keeper Shelves and TBR Accidents

2009-08-21T04:51:00.000-07:00

I don’t keep many books anymore. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve become an increasingly jaded reader as I’ve gotten older, or because I have a serious book-buying addiction and am genuinely afraid that one day, my TBR pile will pseudopod around my entire house and my family and I will never be seen again. But once I’ve read something, I generally donate it, resell it, or give it away to make room for the next bag o’ books I’ll lug home from a store or conference.

(Back in the ’90s, news broke that Demi Moore bought an entire house just to store her doll collection. If I had scads of money, that would be me, but with books. Unfortunately, since I don’t have scads of money, I’m just approaching a potential guest spot on HGTV’s Clean Sweep.)

Last year, Sharon Cullars foiled my (feeble) instinct for order, and I have all three of her books to date in my permanent collection. Since this is my first column as RBTB’s contributing editor in multicultural romance, I thought I’d start out by sharing one of my favorite romance novels, Cullars’ Again.

Read on at Romance Buy the Book ...
.
.

Blogging at Romance Buy the Book!

2009-08-20T09:47:00.000-07:00

Okay, it's been a looooonnnnngggg time since I've blogged--I officially suck. I took a bit of a hiatus from writing romance, but I'm back writing romantic suspense again! (I'll post news on upcoming releases as soon as I hear! And yes, there is an actual submission I'm waiting to hear about....)

I'm also joining high-profile romance review site RomanceBuytheBook.com as a multicultural feature writer. I won't be doing reviews, per se--just blogging occasionally about multicultural romances that I genuinely love.

Today, the site's owner, Michelle Buonfiglio, is introducing me, so feel free to head on over, and let me know what multicultural authors you've read lately, who you really love, and whether you want me to take a look at your newest book.

The Trash Vortex

2009-06-10T09:08:00.000-07:00

In a highly amusing blog entry on EW.com, writer Chris Nashawaty talks about bad movies that pull you in while you’re channel surfing … and then you get sucked into what he hilariously called the “trash vortex” and can’t stop watching.

His was Into the Blue, that craptastic undersea treasure hunt flick starring The Doofus Paul Walker and Jessica Alba, who, to quote Dorothy Parker, runs the gamut of emotions from A to B in every film she’s in.

Which, of course, started me thinking about my own personal trash vortex….

Now even though I watched Into the Blue once, at the encouragement of my brother and trash-vortex connoisseur, Troy (see our American Idol blogs below), I can safely turn it on the television and find the willpower to back away slowly and turn it off again. Jessica Alba is my own personal TV-watching kryptonite. But like most people, other movies have the power to make reaching for the remote an impossibility.

Enter ... Tracy Montoya's Personal Trash Vortex

Bloodsport: I can’t even count the number of times I've caught this martial arts Jean-Claude Van Damme classic (and I use that term really loosely) on cable in the ‘90s. Even now, the magic of JCVD delivering that flying split-kick thing he does is still an unstoppable siren call on a rainy Sunday afternoon. In fact, last night when the title popped up on our Tivo guide, my husband and I got into a frothing-at-the-mouth wrestling match over the remote. He wanted to watch some scintillating show about green home design on HGTV, and I, of course, wanted to watch the flying split-kick thing. Tragically, Jose won. Still bitter.

The Cutting Edge: I hate to call this one “trash,” because it remains one of my favorite romantic comedies ever in the history of ever, but since movie critics back in the day unanimously punched it in the face, turned it upside down, and stole its lunch money, I will refer to it as such, just this once.

Truly funny banter, lots of romantic tension, and figure skating—is there any more perfect combination? (Other than Copeland, Summers, and Sting, of course.) I love this movie so much, I want to move to Hollywood and stalk it. Even though I OWN THE DVD, I still drop everything and watch when it’s on. Sadly, the same cannot be said for the two sequels, which make my head want to explode.

That Lifetime Movie Where Connie Seleca is Flying an Airplane and the Ceiling Rips Off Mid-Flight: Also known as the Holy Grail of my trash vortex. I started watching this one day and was forced to stop before it ended—and as this was B.T. (before Tivo), I didn’t have any blank VCR tapes lying around to record the end. Being that it was a Lifetime movie, I figured it would be on ad nauseum, ad infinitum, and I’d easily be able to catch the ending. But noooooo, I’ve never been able to find it, and it has left an emptiness in my psyche that nothing else can fill. My soul will not rest until I find out what happened to the stewardess who was crawling around on all fours clinging to footrests and screaming, “WE’RE GONNA MAKE IT!!!!”

Did she make it? Did she? Can you land a plane that doesn't have a ceiling? What happened to the little kids on the plane since there were no oxygen masks up there? Sometimes, it keeps me awake at night, wondering.

The Saint: It has four different endings, a horrendously convoluted suspense plot, and a ridiculous villain (although the villain’s son is nicely creepy). But I love this movie so much, I don't care about any of it. Most of my undying devotion is probably due to the fact that Val Kilmer is so smoking hot in this film, I think I once had a moment where I wanted to chuck it all and become a mindless, zombie celebrity stalker. It causes me actual, physical pain to see how puffy-looking and stringy-haired he’s become.

Dear Val,

You’re an actor—your job is to LOOK PRETTY. The fact that you cannot live up to your end of the fame bargain makes me feel my mortality in a way that is not pleasant. Please step away from the Cheetos and go get a haircut and a foil, stat. That is all.

Sincerely,

Me

Made of Honor: One of the great mysteries of my life is why I love this movie so much. I don’t have a raging crush on Patrick Dempsey (although there’s a definite appreciation there), it has a fairly predictable plot, and there are far more hilarious and poignant romantic comedies out there (see The Cutting Edge above). But for some reason, I love this one. And now it’s on TV ALL THE TIME, which is just dangerous.

Cocktail: This is probably the most infallible of all my trash vortex picks. I shouldn’t even admit this in public for safety reasons, but its pull is so strong that if someone wanted to rob me blind, all s/he’d have to do is turn on Cocktail, and I’d be mesmerized for a good two hours. As long as they didn’t haul off the television and cable box and managed to get in and out in between commercial breaks, I wouldn’t even notice.

Center Stage: Other than Peter Gallagher and Zoe Saldana, the acting in this film is so god-grindingly awful, it makes me want to reach inside my TV and start scratching at the actors’ faces to see if they’re really cleverly disguised androids. But even a romantic lead (who MUCH later turns out to be a jerk) with an adam's apple the size of a small bus doesn't deter me from watching every time this comes on the small screen. Never underestimate the power of a feel-good dance movie with a triumphant ending number to suck you in like the entertainment black hole of death that it is.

Major League: It’s thoroughly sexist, utterly juvenile, and did I mention really, really sexist? But I am a SUCKER for a triumph-of-the-human-spirit sports movie, and even a life-sized naked paper doll can’t wake my inner feminist up enough to force me to change the channel. Once I hear “Wild Thing” blaring out of my television speakers, it’s all over.

Dirty Dancing: Right up there with Cocktail, this movie grabs me like a drowning adolescent every time I channel surf past it, and I cannot look away. At this point, I could probably recite the entire script, sing all of the songs by heart, and flawlessly execute the damn dance at the end, and yet I STILL keep watching.

“Sylvia! … Yes, Mickey? … How do you call your loverboy? …”

"...COME HERE, Loverboy!"

(Dear God, make it stop.)

Hope Floats: This movie has a dead floating DOG in it, and yet I’m still sucked in by it every time. I’m going to blame it on Harry Connick Jr.’s insane charm, because otherwise, the world just doesn’t make sense.

The Replacements: Ah, Keanu. Such a lovely face. So very, very painful when he opens his mouth (see Much Ado About Nothing and Dangerous Liaisons, in which his every line of dialogue is a human record-player needle ripping across the grooves of a lovely classical album). Fortunately, Keanu’s Shane Falco is a man of few words, so you can just sit back and watch him look pretty while enjoying this goofball sports flick for what it is. And I have enjoyed it. Again and again and again.

“Pain heals. Chicks dig scars. Glory … lives forever.”

Infomercials: I am now the proud owner of an Eco-Canteen, regularly use Leeza Gibbons' Sheer Cover mineral make-up, and recently caught the Firm Wave. Once I almost bought a Blooming Onion, AND I HATE ONIONS! And I am totally embarrassed to admit that back in the '90s, I did, indeed, pay good money for a ThighMaster. There is no trash vortex more powerful. Infomercials are the devil.

What's on YOUR trash vortex?

American Idol: Finale Recap! (Finally.)

2009-06-09T10:32:00.000-07:00

TRACY: So we made it, Troy. We’re actually recapping an American Idol finale, instead of mysteriously disappearing around the top 3 or 4. Go, us!

TROY: It truly is a festivus miracle (except that this is two three weeks too late-- my bad, all!). A moment of silence for a momentous occasion…

...

On with the snark!

TRACY: I know I said last week that I was going to be happy as a clam if either Kris or Adam was crowned the winner, but I still couldn’t help but feel at the end of Wednesday’s show that something was not right with the universe.

TROY: Because Michael Sarver and Megan Corkery were allowed to return to the Idol stage?

TRACY: Mmmmmmmm ... well, there's that. Strangely enough, that's not it.

I adore Kris. He grew on me faster than a bad fungus, and he also happens to perform the kind of understated, acoustic music I tend to personally gravitate toward, particularly as background music for work and writing. But here’s why his winning it all left me a bit sad:

1) I thought Adam sang a SMIDGE better on Tuesday.

TROY: Really? Adam’s “No Boundaries” was a hot mess on Tuesday (not that that’s saying much with THAT song--more on that later).

TRACY: Kris couldn't even hit the notes, though--not his fault, but still.

2) I read a bunch of stories about how the segment of Crazy Christians who were voting for Danny Gokey were guaranteed to go for Kris, which made me backlash back to Adam out of a sense of justice and a need to support the non-crazy Christians out there.

3) Kris is a wonderful, wonderful musician, but it was Adam who drove the entertainment factor of each and every episode of this season into the stratosphere.

4) Kris MUST make his own kind of music to be successful, and I’m afraid 19 Entertainment is going to suck the fun out of him and “This is My Now” him to death. Adam, on the other hand, is so unique, that I think he would be able to drive the process more.

So … I’m having the vapors over this end result, Troy. Talk me down, please.

TROY: You like Kris! Kris is a nice guy! His cover of “Heartless” was ah-may-zing! He never talked back to the judges!

TRACY: I like Adam! So is Adam! So was "Mad World" and Zeppelin! Adam didn't either! Ugh! Ugh! ::::vapors::::

TROY: Uhm … Ummm …

At LEAST DANNY GOKEY DIDN’T WIN!!!!

TRACY: I feel suddenly better.

Anyway, onto our very last AI recap of 2009!

I don’t know why Simon let himself get so distracted by a little dry ice and the Vampire-Lestat-meets-the-Matrix coat, but I loved ADAM LAMBERT’s performance of “Mad World”—perhaps even more than the first one, which practically had me sobbing into my husband’s shoulder. There was just something loose and cool and—dare I say?—understated about it this time around. Dude didn’t need a bunch of dry ic e to be smoking, but I loved how it gave the whole performance a brand-new vibe. If Adam hits Broadway sometime in the future, I’m so getting tickets. Les Miz revival, anyone?

TROY: I didn’t love it as much as the first go-round, but Adam OWNS this song. Vocals, as always, were killer. And yes, I own the mp3 now (NERD).

TRACY: I downloaded it ages ago. (Bigger nerd.)

TROY: Still … it didn’t have the magic of the first time he performed it. It’s like the second time Fantasia sang “Summertime”--vocally proficient and flawless, but missing just that feeling from the first time.

TRACY: Which is totally why they should be able to pick a new song!

KRIS ALLEN knocked it out of the park with his second try at “Ain’t No Sunshine,” but I didn’t think it was the total KO Simon felt it was. Not that I didn’t think Kris was absolutely perfect, but I loved Adam’s first performance just as much. That said, I thought he made some gorgeous adjustments to his original arrangement of this song, and he dropped it like it was hot.

TROY: I thought this was miles better than Kris’ first performance of the song (which was also strong). Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t have to keep pegging it as his “moment,” but he saaaang it.

I still gave round one to Kris.

TRACY: I called it a draw.

At first, I wasn’t sure about Simon Fuller handing Sam Cooke’s Civil Rights anthem, “A Change is Gonna Come” to Adam, but my boy quickly dispelled any and all doubts with a masterpiece of a performance. I loved that song so much, I want to write it creepy fanmail, then go to Hollywood and stalk it. And really, with all that “Is he or isn’t he?” crap going on, the choice makes sense to day.

TROY: Perfect choice, but I’m biased against this version. Why?

See, I had just seen Seal flawlessly perform this song live and in-studio on Oprah (JEALOUS?).

TRACY: (I saw him do a full concert. So, no.)

TROY: That man OWNS “A Change is Gonna Come.”

I kept comparing the two versions and Adam’s manic screaming just couldn’t compare to Seal’s smooth a capella version.

TRACY: Apples and oranges, grasshopper. Adam was the bomb.

I thought Kris did a lovely job with “What’s Going On?” and didn’t deserve as much wrath as he got from the judges because HE DIDN’T CHOOSE THAT SONG. I mean, I don’t think even Adam the Musical Flash Grenade couldn't have made much of that song, so the judges ragging on Kris for being too understated made zero sense. Of course, the bongo arrangement was perhaps a little too reminiscent of his arrangement of “She Works Hard for the Money,” but whatever. Dude still rocked what he was given.

TROY: Ha! I’m flashing back to, “It’s a song … about how she works hard … for money.” Oh, Kris Allen.

Yeah … really didn’t love this, but it wasn’t Kris’ song choice (attempted Idol sabotage?). Kris’ vocals were great, but the weird stoner arrangement didn’t really work.

TRACY: I called that round for Adam, but it was REALLY close and not even Kris's fault, really. And finally …

TROY: DUN DUN DUUUUUUUNNNNN!

TRACY: OMG, that song. That horrible, horrible song. I thought that when they announced Kara had co-written “No Boundaries,” we might actually be in for a marginally likeable American Idol single. After all, this IS the woman who wrote “Ain’t No Other Man,” “Sober,” and “Walk Away.” But THIS? This travesty is a piece of chewed-up gum on the bottom of Katy Perry’s bedazzled shoe. WTF?!?!

I thought both Adam and Kris did the best they could with the flaming bag of dog poo that Kara left on their figurative doorsteps, but damn. Both needed an archeological team to come in and excavate a discernable melody, and the lyrics were straight out of the collection of rhyming poetry my high school stalker sent me freshman year. Or perhaps she was inspired by one of those Hallmark cards with the sunsets and foil seagulls on them.

TROY: Jeez, Tracy … What’s wrong with climbing mountains? Making it through the pain? Weathering the hurricanes?

TRACY: Nothing! Go ahead and climb those mountains. Just don't sing about them in simplistic rhyming couplets to a non-discernable melody. Head. Hurts.

TROY: To be honest, I don’t hate the song (Don’t hurt me)!

TRACY: :::incredulous, google-eyed stare:::

TROY: It’s become an ear worm that’s I’ll sporadically burst into singing (much like … ”Here Come the Sun.”)

TRACY: I hated that earworm! That earworm was the devil! This one is worse than the devil! Back away slowly from your iPod so I can douse it in holy water and exorcize this song off of it!

TROY: However, the finalists might as well have sung “The Climb” by Miley Cyrus--basically the same concept with much deeper lyrics and an easier-to-reach key.

TRACY: And you wonder why I'm still musically stuck in the '90s.

Speaking of the key, Squeaky Fromme Dioguardi even admitted that the key was too high “for Kris.” (NB: It was too freaking high for both of them. Adam may have the range, but it’s not at all pleasant to hear anyone but Barry Freaking Gibb singing up in the stratosphere for that long.) Another WTF moment—Ricky Minor and the band can transpose any song in the Idol catalog to suit any contestant, but they can’t tamper with Kara’s unholy pile of barfness?

TROY: They managed to fix the studio version, but the Idol performances were horrifying. I STILL think this is better than “This is my Now” or “Inside Your Heaven.”

There! I said it!

TRACY: I think that last exchange caused me actual, physical pain.

GOD!!!!! WHY does Idol keep doing this to us? The WHOLE FREAKING WORLD thinks that the finale should be 1) best past performance, 2) song chosen by Simon Cowell ...

TROY: (He did choose “One” for Adam though, which…yeesh)

TRACY: (I know, but at least I'm curious about what he'll pick, and it has never, to date, been a Terrence Trent d'Arby song.)

... 3) whole new song chosen by finalist. But NOOOOO. They have to bring crusty old Simon “My-heart-is-still-in-the-sixties” Fuller in to pick a song, and then they saddle the contestants with a musical root canal. I don’t get it.

TROY: I really don’t get the Simon Fuller choice--it’s ALWAYS terrible. Sixties music is NOT making a comeback right now. Stop trying to make them happen!

TRACY: I hope "No Boundaries" is Kara’s final shot at ruining the show, because I am SO done with her.

Anyway, poor Kris being forced to sing that “song” again in the finale was the only major blemish on an otherwise really entertaining two hours on Wednesday.

First of all, going slightly out of chronological order, I have to stop the presses to say: All hail the Queen! I LOVED Queen Latifah’s new single, “Cue the Rain.” Even Lil Rounds couldn’t spoil it, and I thought she was one of the more generous celebrities when it came to sharing the stage with the Idols, allowing Lil equal time even though homegirl wasn’t exactly in equal voice.

TROY: So I didn’t get home until after midnight the night of the Idol finale. As such, I fast forwarded through everything that looked boring. This was one of them.

Queen Latifah in Dana Owens mode AND with Lil Rounds? Pass! (Still haven’t heard the song, but it’s not exactly burning up the hit charts).

TRACY: (Don't be such a musical sheep. Remember, top 40 is currently bringing you "If You Seek Amy," which is a horror show. You're a MOM, for heaven's sake. Show some dignity!)

Oh, and the sound mixing on the Latifah/Lil duet! Two big, booming voices, and the band still overpowered them? I think it’s time for another letter to American Idol’s sound mixer:

Dear Sound Mixing Guy,

You suck.

Respectfully yours,

Me

TROY: Can we give him an award? Congrats to you, suckiest sound mixing guy on the planet!

TRACY: Anyway, I’ve already downloaded the Lil-free version on iTunes, which is going to be an excellent addition to the warm-up portion of my workout mix.

David Cook did a nice job with the 47th single from his new album, “Permanent.” He looked so sad, I probably would say that even if I didn’t mean it, but I really do.

TROY: I agree, but he sounded great and has really eradicated my haaaaatteee from last season. I bought the mp3 on iTunes (it’s for a good cause!) and also “Come Back to Me,” which I’m loving.

TRACY: iTunes OWNS you now, doesn't it?

Oh, and Norman Gentle … AGAIN. Thank God, we got to see him flog that “And I am Telling You” schtick for the seventh time, because it was so hilarious the other six times. (GOD, Ju’Not Joyner and Jesse Langseth were dissed for THIS?)

TROY: They may as well announced his performance as, “BECAUSE NO ONE DEMANDED IT ... NORMAN GENTLE!” No one voted for him, Idol. Stop trying to make Norman Gentle happen.

Instead, they should have had a “Here’s why you suck, America” segment where Jesse and Ricky Braddy could have rocked it out.

TRACY: And Ju'Not! And Tami Gosnell from last season, because I'm still not over that one.

Jason Mraz looked bored, so I’m not spending any more time on him.

TROY: I normally like his music, but ZZZzzzzZzZZzzzzZz….

TRACY: At first, pairing Kris Allen with Keith Urban seemed a little odd, but then I realized how utterly perfect it was. Their voices blended together seamlessly, and they were similar enough that Keith’s example showed how an understated but gifted performer could appeal to the masses. I’m not a country music fan, but I was kinda off my head about this duet. And hats off to Keith for also being generous about sharing the stage with Kris.

TROY: I had to watch this on YouTube because I originally fast-forwarded through it the first time. I was wrong because as Kris and Keith sounded fantastic together and showed how versatile Kris can be. Kris can do country! Kris can do acoustic rock! Kris can rap!

Maybe not the last part, but you get the idea.

TRACY: In the not-so-generous department, we have Fergie and the Black-Eyed Peas, and Rod Stewart, who apparently thought it was all about them Wednesday night. (Here’s a freebie from the clue factory—it was not.) Fergie, if you are not going to do backflips, I am done with you. That said, I liked “Boom Boom Pow” performed live, but there’s something pulsing in the studio recording that makes my left eye throb every time I hear it on the radio.

TROY: Hey! Would you really want to duet with Megan Corkery and Jasmine Murray? I think not!

TRACY: No, but how about poor left-by-the-roadside Matt Giraud? More on that later.

TROY: Loved BEP (not Fergie singing a song that’s two years old--way to be relevant, Idol), but was weirded out by the 5-second pause and cut to the Idol logo mid-performance. Subtle editing, team.

TRACY: Oh, and Bikini Girl was back. Thank God, because my inner feminist really wanted to curl up into a ball and have yet another hysterical crying jag.

Ryan had his first non-cheesy-and-actually-funny moment on the show with his “I’d ask you what’s new, but I think I know,” comment. Too bad he already used that one on Kellie Pickler, but hey, I’ll take any non-cheese moment I can get from the guy, right, friends?

TROY: I’m over Ryan--he’s been an epic fail this season with the creepy banter, recycled jokes, and inflated ego. Bring back, Dunkleman!

(except … not)

TRACY: I don't know. Maybe watching Dunkleman fall on his face every night would be more entertaining than Ryan's sixth-grade-lockeroom homophobe jokes.

Anyway, I was starting to wonder why they let Bikini Girl's off-key-and-mostly-naked booty on stage to sing for so long, when Kara appeared and nearly made me fall off the couch in surprise. I have to say, I think Kara had a moment there. I almost liked her, for about half a second. Then she ripped her dress open. …

… And my inner feminist shriveled up and died.

Kara does have a really good voice, though. If they insist on keeping her next season, I think she should be a contestant.

TROY: This was my favorite moment of the finale--I haven’t laughed this hard at a performance since the Clay Aiken/Michael Sandecki duet.

I normally feel bad for contestants who get epically humiliated on stage, but this was a karma boomerang for Bikini Girl. You could tell she was PISSED and I loved every moment of it.

TRACY: Oh, the schadenfreude. It was beautiful.

TROY: And after a season of being an utter trainwreck, it was nice for Kara to have a moment when she shined. I didn’t even mind the bikini reveal (it was for charity!).

TRACY: Whatever.

HOLY CRAP, Allison Iraheta and Cyndi Lauper were amazing. Like stunningly, gorgeously, immaculately amazing. I tell you, it is a crying shame that Madonna continues to churn out albums while Cyndi’s career is relegated to rehashing her 80s hits on imitation Lilith Fair tours. Because that woman is a freaking brilliant songwriter and musician. I’ve always thought that “Time After Time” was one of the most beautiful songs ever in the history of ever, but that duet rearrangement cemented that for me. Wow. Allison was stunning. Here’s to a successful Iraheta album in 2009, free from any and all Kara Dioguardi originals.

TROY: Even though they should have performed “The Goonies R Good Enough,” this was, hands down, best performance of the night (sorry Adam and Kris). Allison SCHOOLED the sucktastic version that Cyndi put out with Sarah McLachlan years ago and made my dark, tiny heart grow three sizes. Mp3 now … please.

Why this girl wasn’t in the top 3 is beyond me.

TRACY: Then we had Danny Gokey and Lionel Richie. And everyone we meet, was upchucking in the street. All night long.

TROY: And in a case of WTF IDOL, Lionel Richie? Is he even relevant today? Do kids listen to him?

Survey says … HELL to the no. And its moments like these that make Idol finales failures.

TRACY: Geriatric KISS creeps me the hell out. Paul Stanley, put a freaking shirt on, and Gene Simmons, put that nastyass tongue back where it came from. Seriously.

They sounded horrifying, too, until Adam swooped in to save them. He was stunning and perfect. I’m not sure I’m totally on board of everyone’s wish for him to bring back hair-band rock, but if he can spin it into something original and fresh, he might really have something. He totally SCHOOLED the KISS singers.

TROY: Rock legend and all, I wanted Gene Simmons to STFU. He sounded SOOO bad and for a second I thought they were one of those Kiss “tribute bands” that visits places like the Random Lake Fireman’s Picnic.

Thank GOD Adam was able to interfere and rock it out. He sounded FANTASTIC, transcending those stupid bubble wings he was wearing (apparently also worn by Lady GaGa--seriously!).

TRACY: (Huh! Who knew?) I loved hearing the contestants sing with Carlos Santana ...

(Is it just me, or should Kris TOTALLY have performed “Smooth” during his Idol run?)

TROY: (They were probably concerned he wouldn’t match up to Chris Richardson’s rendition in season 6 - Ha,)

TRACY: But did the Idols really have to skip around Santana in a jaunty little circle like that? I mean, seriously, all that was missing were some spirit fingers and jazz hands. It takes a lot to suck the cool factor out of a 1970s icon like Santana, but Cecile Frot-Coutaz managed it.

TROY: Are you really shocked? Taking the cool out of songs is an Idol staple. They could turn Nirvana’s “Come as You Are” into the The Brady Bunch’s “Sunshine Day.”

TRACY: :::shudder::: That calls for another letter.

Dear Courtney Love,

I don't care how broke you are or how bad the shakes and night sweats get. Do NOT, I repeat, do NOT open up Nirvana's song catalog to 19 Entertainment to score more meth, or you will send all of Generation X into a depression spiral. And while we make excellent music when we're depressed, the world doesn't need that much flannel inflicted upon it again.

Sincerely,

Me

Moving on.... For the love of God, why does Steve Martin keep inflicting his “bluegrass” on the masses like this? (See also his SNL 2009 performance—ugh.) I mean, that would be a sweet little background ditty for an episode of Max and Ruby, but SNL and American Idol? I actually love bluegrass and I love Steve Martin, but together, they suck the cool factor that “O, Brother, Where Art Thou?” strove to provide this musical genre and send it reeling back to 1970s Hee-Haw episodes.

Having Michael Sarver and Megan CAWkrey lend their dubious talents to said “bluegrass” didn’t help here.

TROY: My ears are STILL bleeding (and I fast forwarded through most of this). Would it kill Megan to stay on key for at least 4 consecutive notes?

TRACY: You know ... I think it might.

TROY: And, side note, MEGAN AND MICHAEL had featured songs while poor Matt Giraud only received about 5 seconds of screentime during the Santana medley. WTF, IDOL?!

TRACY: I KNOW! Sick and wrong!

My five-year-old Maggie REALLY enjoyed hearing Rod Stewart singing “Maggie May” (which I’ve now started singing to her in the mornings when I want her to wake up for school--"Wake up, Maggie, I think I've got something to SAAYYYY to YOOOOUUUUU!!!"). But again, we want to hear you WITH the Idols, not all by your tiny little lonesome in your crappy-looking jacket.

Oh, and Danny Gokey and Scott McIntyre, the answer to the question of “If you want my body” is no. Just no.

TROY: I just threw up a little in my mouth.

TRACY: Hey, I watched it real time and couldn't even fast-forward!

Adam and Kris were bloody brilliant with Queen. Even though I am heartily sick of “We are the Champions” (thank you, high school basketball games), I did really enjoy hearing them sing together. (Let the record show that Kris can, indeed, rock when he chooses to.)

TROY: Loved this (and so much better than the normal cheesy finalist duet: Please see Kelly Clarkson/Justin Guarini--“It Takes Two” and Fantasia/Diana DeGarmo--“I Knew You Were Waiting For Me”).

TRACY: Some of my pain over not seeing Adam win was soothed by Kris’s so-adorably-humble-I-want-to-squeeze-him reaction at taking the Idol crown. I mean, how can you not love a guy who reacts with, “I don’t even know what to do right now. Adam deserved this. I’m sorry.” And when he started crying into his 12-year-old wife’s shoulder? SO sweet.

He TOTALLY shouldn’t be sorry—he mega-talented and deserves all of his success and, as you pointed out in last week’s recap, perhaps needed it a little more than the show-stopping Adam. (Who was the very picture of grace and humility and deserves monstrous success as well.) I thought he did a little bit better of a job singing “Kara’s Flaming Pile of Dog Poo,” even, but I am still feeling anger over the fact that he’s been saddled with that mess.

TROY: “Made it through the pain/weathered the hurricane…THERE ARE NO BOUNDARIES!” Ear worm! I’m actually listening to it as I write this. 

TRACY: I'm a little scared of you now.

TROY: Since I’m in 100% agreement with what you said above about the finale results, I’d like to take this time to award the HOT MESS OF THE WEEK Award to …

JANICE DICKINSON! Seriously...how drunk was she and how much of her face was falling off?

TRACY: Very drunk and very much. Painful.

Here’s wishing both finalists better songwriters and mucho success.

TROY: And that Megan Corkery, Michael Sarver and Scott McIntyre fall off the face of the planet.

See you next season!

American Idol Recap: Top 3!

2009-05-18T03:56:00.000-07:00

TRACY: Last night, we saw American democracy at its finest at work. While the producers of American Idol tried to rig the voting like a North Korean election and heavily pimp a Danny Gokey-Adam Lambert finale … While Kreepy Kara and Randy the Redundant sabotaged Kris Allen by giving him a sucktastic song and then unjustly whining about the fact that he sang it … While Simon Cowell gave the performance of the season a quasi-positive review riddled with subliminal “kick Kris off” messages like “while I had written you off … written you off … written you off …”

TROY: When Paula Abdul has declared, “SEE YOU IN THE FINALS!” to both DFG and Adam on numerous occasions, only telling Kris that his hair looks good pushed back. When judges are personally asking bands if the finalists can sing one of their must beloved, untouched songs…

TRACY: :::cue “The Battle Hymn of the Republic:::

… America said, “No, we will not go gently into that pre-determined and heavily pimped finale. We will not be sheep and vote how Simon tells us to vote. We will not write off a fabulously talented performer just because he doesn’t have a ginormous ego and a deceased wife. We will not allow sympathy and sentimentality to sway us from the course that we know is just and right.”

TROY: :::Wipes Tear Away and waves the American flag:::

TRACY: We said hell-to-the-no, Simon, and justice triumphed.

TROY: Today … is our independence day!

(Wrong moment?)

TRACY: (No, I thought that was nice!)

That was beautiful, America. I haven’t been this proud of us since we reinstated our commitment to the Geneva Convention and re-banned torture.

A Kris Allen-Adam Lambert finale. I never thought I’d see the day. :::sniff:::

TROY: This is almost as good as an Allison Iraheta – Adam Lambert finale….(Never forget).

TRACY: Although don’t smack me for saying this, but my husband Jose and I felt just a little sorry for Danny Gokey.

TROY: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY SISTER?

TRACY: I mean, yes, he has a ginormous ego and sings subtle variations on the same song every time he’s up on that stage. And yes, he did pimp his personal tragedy a little too much for our taste. But I’m sure that his American Idol run was a huge and welcome distraction from that tragedy, and now that it’s over, I feel sad for him. He’s got a difficult road ahead of him, emotionally.

So in honor of that, I am publicly committing to not call him a douchebag for this entire recap. Even if that word inappropriately and unfailingly cracks me up every time I type it.

TROY: Sigh. I’ll refrain from using that word as well … mainly because I’m terrified of the Gokemates (converted Claymates who have been attacking me on Facebook ).

TRACY: (:::shudder:::) So, okay, recap. We started the evening out with DANNY GOKEY singing Terrence Trent D’arby’s “Dance Little Sister,” a bizarre B-side choice from Paula that he failed to make relevant or interesting. I can't say that I blame him—it was a weird selection. Could it be that Ms. Abdul had a rare moment of clarity and decided to throw Danny a wicked curve ball to bring balance back to the universe and make up for her endless pimpage of him for the final two?

Or maybe it was just a happy, coked-up accident. In either case, I give it a resounding “meh.”

TROY: I honestly had no idea what song this was and don’t think I’ve ever heard it before (unless it was a 6th grade soccer dance, which is all just a blur). I’d murmur “sabotage,” if it weren’t for the fact that Paula was constantly telling DF …, er DANNY that he would be in the finals.

TRACY: We had the evening’s most flagrant case of attempted sabotage by Randy and Squeaky Fromme, who chose “Apologize” for KRIS ALLEN. How was it sabotage? Let me count the ways:

1) The song was flogged to death in the Hollywood rounds, giving Kris no hope of looking original, even though he had zero control over the choice.

TROY: (They might as well have given him “I Will Always Love You.” Wait … that may have been interesting).

TRACY: 2) Not once has Kris busted out a falsetto during his Idol run. Ergo, it would be safe to believe that if you give him a song with a so-high-only-dogs-and-deer-can-hear-it high note, he will likely botch it. Fortunately, he did not botch it, but it wasn’t the most powerful note he could hit, either. Part of that was the sound mixing guy’s fault, who was probably an integral part of the Gokey-Lambert pimpage plan.

3) It’s been overplayed on the radio, so the entire world is almost as sick of it as if it had been part of the Titanic soundtrack.

TROY: Preach. The song was even in promos for Atonement.

TRACY: 4) Not only did the dreadful duo shrill at him for not “stripping it down with just his guitar,” but then they refused to admit after his second performance that stripping two songs down to just the guitar would have been redundant AND Idol suicide, and he did his best with the craptacular choice he was given.

5) Kara is an idiot.

That is all.

TROY: I didn’t even hate this performance – it was karaoke, but I felt for the lamb, put out to the Idol slaughter. Still way better than anything that was desecrated by Jasmine Murray (who?) or Scott McIntire.

TRACY: Agreed.

Let us all pause now to remember the song “One,” because Tuesday night, ADAM LAMBERT drove a stake through it and then beat it with a shrieking cross.

TROY: Is that what that mess was? Adam maimed the song so badly that its remains could not be identified.

TRACY: That high note. Unnnnnnhhhhhh, my head. If you go back and just listen to it on YouTube or wherever one can find the videos from the show, you, like me, may find your startle reflex activated on that last OOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooOOOOOooooonnnnneeee!!!!!!” And you may feel an inescapable compulsion to call the poor boy an ambulance, because he is certainly about to barf up his intestines.

I know I’ve said before that it’s totally okay for him to go all Broadway on a song. It is not, however, totally okay to go all nutso shrieking hyena on it. I am reminded of the scirocco, the crazy howling wind in Italy that reportedly drives grown men and women insane when it blows.

TROY: Aguileritis is real, people.

TRACY: Oh, Adam. Why? WHY did you do that to my song? After all my votes and crazy-fan devotion, even championing you through “Ring of FYYYYYaaahhhhh?” And this is how you repay me?

TROY: Are you about to go all Tyra on him?

TRACY: I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU! WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU! LEEEEAAARRRRNNN SOMETHING FROM THIS!!!!!!!!!

I’m queuing up the exquisite Mary J. Blige version and hoping Ms. Mary J. can make it all better. It’s either that or lithium, man.

I can’t believe Simon actually reached down deep enough into his mendacity reservoir to praise that performance to the skies like he did. “Mad World” and “Whole Lotta Love” are enough to carry my support for Adam into the finale, but I would never have had the chutzpah to say anything other than it put the “arg” in blllllaaarrrrrrruuuurrrrrrrraaaarrrrgggl.

I love Adam. You know I love Adam. But that performance was sadly reminiscent of David Lee Roth once the drugs started to eat his brain. Tone it DOWN, grasshopper.

TROY: The entire time, I just kept thinking the song would be better once he got to the climax -- the big “OoooNNNnnnnNNNNEEeeeEEEEEE.” However, it was foolishly cut out of the arrangement! Epic. Fail. Of. The. Week.

TRACY: So much was cut out, it was just a serial killer victim of a song.

DANNY GOKEY sang “You Are So Beautiful.” Just in case you forgot that his wife had passed away.

TROY: I was totally expecting a black and white slideshow to take place on the video screen … or at least some Denise Richards in “Drop Dead Gorgeous”-quality frakery.

TRACY: I like that song, but his version kind of sounded like a slowly leaking helium balloon with a cold.

TROY: Again…Taylor Hicks did it better people

TRACY: And Simon kept on partaking of Paula’s Coca-Cola cup, calling Danny Gokey’s performance a vocal masterclass. A masterclass in SUCK, maybe.

And that brings us to the real vocal masterclass of the night, KRIS ALLEN’s take on “Heartless.” After he was finished, my husband and I started doing the Insane Kara Finger Jab at the television while loudly telling Randy and Kara to ... um ... "suck it." Several, times, I'm sorry to say. Fortunately, the girls were upstairs playing in Maggie’s room and did not witness their parents completely losing their shizz over an American Idol performance.

But daaaayyyyy-ummmm. That was … that was … There’s only one thing to say:

::::deep Mortal Kombat voice::: Fatality. Kris Allen wins.

TROY: Ahh-may-zing--I couldn’t wait to download the Mp3 right after (which kind of sucks in comparison. Whoever does the instrumental for the studio version needs to be fired immediately. I’m reminded of old NES music).

TRACY: (I KNOW! Who the heck thought it was a good idea to stick Barry Manilow-esque STRINGS in there?!)

TROY: Anyway, this performance was the biggest middle finger Kris could have given to the judges--the jduges who were trying to take him down--who couldn’t wait for him to fail. And he did it with class and dignity (take notes, Crazy CAWkrey).

TRACY: Kris Allen, I salute you. At first, I had written you off as moderately talented though ridiculously good-looking cannon fodder. I thought the tween-girl vote might sustain you into the top five or six at best. But then I started to like you a little with “Ain’t No Sunshine.” I got a small hint that there might be more to you than meets the ear when you freshened up “All She Wants to Do is Dance.” I put one tentative foot on the Kris Allen train when you turned an overplayed disco tune that I’ve hated since birth inside out and made me love it with the white-hot fiery passion of a thousand suns. And now, I am so totally on board your musical train, that I won’t even go on a hunger strike if Adam doesn’t win. I’d be happy for either of you.

TROY: I totally agree. This may be the first year where I’d honestly be happy for either contestant to win. And let the record show that I’ve been on the Kris Allen train since day one. ☺

(Psst..…I almost think I’d rather see Kris win as he may need it more than Adam. I know!)

TRACY: (No, I can see that.) And as long as 19 Entertainment doesn’t do a “Real Thing” on your musical abilities, I will be downloading your album as soon as it hits iTunes.

TROY: I’m going to hold you to this. You never download Idol albums (though, I don't blame you on that "Real Thing" trainwreck).

TRACY: (I downloaded a couple of songs from Chris Daughtry's album!)

You, sir, are the bomb. You deserve your quiet yet powerful stealth-fanbase, and I’m glad I wore my fingers down to stubs dialing for you last Tuesday.

TROY: Kris--I didn’t vote for you, but only because of my curse: The week I decide to get my booty off the couch and vote, that person ALWAYS goes home (see: Elliot Yamin, Kimberly Caldwell--you’re welcome, Tracy--Trenyce).

TRACY: And then we had ADAM singing “Cryin’,” which should be retitled to “Cryin’ Shame.” I’m not sure if it was his over-the-top delivery, the fact that I’ve never liked that song to begin with, or that hideous Molly Shannon of a back-up singer trying her best to overpower him with her imitation of a traffic jam set to music, but I thought that was a hot mess. Not as big of a hot mess as the Great U2 Debacle of Season 8 he delivered earlier in the show, but a hot mess nonetheless. I love Adam, and I really hope he can bring himself back down to Earth and show us what he’s got in the finale.

TROY: I thought this was MILES better than the “One” debacle. Still, while “Cryin’” is one of my favorite Aerosmith songs, WHY would you choose this of all possible songs?

Really Adam? Of all the songs ever created, this was the best song you could choose? Really?

I’m insulted.

TRACY: Love how Ryan had to get in the “is he or isn’t he?” dig by mentioning Adam’s past song choices by Cher and Queen. If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle a Cher fan, Mrs. Seacrest….

TROY: So sick of Seacrest’s comments. Let’s mock his (staged) pictures of him making out with Teri Hatcher.

TRACY: Seriously. And he did get all sparkly when Flo Rida came on. I mean, if you want to protect your own personal life, allow the contestants to protect theirs.

Because of that tacky mess, I couldn’t even summon up the appropriate amount of annoyance when Danny Gokey snapped at Ryan again for doing his job and delaying the top two announcement until the end of the results show. (Notice how I am not even using the d-word.)

TROY: I did love that while Danny was acting like a spastic 8-year old (“I just want to get it over with!”), Adam retorted with, “But I want to see Katy Perry!” SO funny.

TRACY: Totally. And speaking of messes….

Holy crap, Katy Perry! Forget Kara—THAT girl has Runaway Bride eyes. And what’s up with the Jane-Fonda-leotard-circa-1983 meets fat-Elvis-jumpsuit outfit she had on? I was also creeped out by the cherry on her tacky little sundae of an ensemble, the Adam Lambert cape—yuck.

TROY: I’m starting to like Katy Perry (“Thinking of You” is great), but that was horrifying. She really needs to tone down the cutesy/tacky look.

TRACY: Does she at least write her own (badly off-key) songs? Because then I can respect her at least a little.

TROY: She does--she actually also wrote Kelly Clarkson’s new single (“I Do Not Hook Up." I highly recommend).

TRACY: Although in the battle of the tragically off-key and trying-so-hard-to-be-edgy trainwrecks, I have to give it to Katy Perry over Gwen.

TROY: Really? With the Gwen venom again? And choosing the girl who sings “I Kissed a Girl” over someone that sings about not being a “Hollaback Girl.” REALLY?

Not everyone can be as edgy/artistic Suzanne Vega I guess…. ☺

TRACY: Suzanne Vega is the poet laureate of our times.

Anyway, regardless of Adam slipping off his pedestal of excellence for one night, I am pleased as punch that these two talented guys are going to face off in the finale. And let us not forget that they are also the only two left in the top ten that never, ever snapped back at the judges. Karma boomerang!

TROY: You’re right! I think this trend started last year (don’t remember either of the Davids snapping). Take note, future Idol-aspirers!

TRACY: Um, go back to last year's recaps. You totally lost your shizz when David Cook snapped back at Simon.

TROY: Aren’t you totally excited that we finally made it to blog about the finals (Save for a few lost recaps)? It’s a festivus miracle!

TRACY: Wow! We actually did it! (Although maybe it doesn't completely count because of the lost recaps. Eh, let's count it!)

(BTW, have you noticed how they both look weird when they hit high notes? Adam with the tongue that licked Manhattan, and Kris with his incredible, double-jointed jaw?)

TROY: Gross! It’s the John Mayer-effect.

TRACY: Top performance: Kris Allen’s “Heartless,” by a light year.
Bottom performance: As much as it pains me to do it, I have to give it to Adam and his massacre of “One.”

TROY: Top performance: Danny Gokey--“You are so Beautiful”

Just kidding. … it was totally Kris’ “Heartless.”

Bottom performance: Danny Gokey--“Whatever It’s Called.” At least I’ll remember the Adam massacre of ’09.

TRACY: True.

American Idol Recap: Top 4!

2009-05-13T09:11:00.000-07:00

TRACY: NOOOOOOOO!!!!

She can’t be gone, Troy. She just can’t. I won’t believe it. Allison is still here. She’s still hereshe’sstillhereSHE’SSTILLHERE. She hasn’t been kicked off. I won’t believe it; you can’t make me.

TROY: The first stage of grief: shock…and denial.

TRACY: Oh, it huuurrrrrrrrrrrrrtssss. Why, God, WHY??

TROY: Did you vote? We didn’t vote!!!!! ( second stage: pain and guilt)

TRACY: I am so bitter, I’m leaking dandelion sap.

I’m typing this reclining on my chaise lounge with an ice pack behind my neck, because otherwise, I might just spontaneously combust from rage.

TROY: Third stage: Anger!

TRACY: Barring the severe injustice of the results show, this was my favorite theme night on Idol ever in the history of ever. (Though let us pause for a moment to regret that we did not get to see Trainwreck Anoop sneer and strut his way through “Welcome to the Jungle” or “Pyromania” in front of Slash.)

TROY: (I would have lurved to have seen Megan CAWkrey’s version of a rock song. She would have had the Janis-drunken swagger down at least.)

TRACY: Props to you, Cecile Frot-Coutaz, for managing to create a “Hell, No, You Can’t Sing a Sappy-Ass Ballad” night without actually calling it “Hell, No, You Can’t Sing a Sappy-Ass Ballad” night.

How big of a dork am I that I downloaded both duets immediately when they were up on iTunes? (And it’s a huge testament to Kris Allen’s talent that I can love “Renegade” for his performance despite the fact that Danny Gokey is audibly bursting blood vessels and vocal cords beside him.)

TROY: BOTH? I loved Adam/Allison but refuse to spend 99 cents on anything that has a trace of DFG. Every time a DFG song is downloaded, an angel loses its wings.

TRACY: Heh. And speaking of Slash, did someone cryogenically freeze him in 1992 and then thaw him out for this gig? Because he looks eerily the same as he did back when I was rocking to GNR’s “Knocking on Heaven’s Door” cover in college. Perhaps its the sunglasses.

TROY: Gotta be the Men-in-Black shades.

TRACY: Roight.

So we started out with ADAM LAMBERT doing so-classic-it’s-almost-untouchable Led Zeppelin, with “Whole Lotta Love.” But of COURSE Mr. Five Octaves with Eyeliner could touch it, and he delivered a KO that actually made me go “Robert Plant Who?” Loved it, loved it, loved it, want to marry it and have its babies.

What I loved even more was how right after glowering and snarling into the camera, Adam’s face completely transforms after the last note into a bright-eyed “Hi! I’m Adam!” smile.

:::deep Mortal Kombat voice::: Fatality. Adam Lambert wins.

TROY: Definitely shows what a great performer Adam his – he gets so intense while singing, but can snap out of it right after the music stops. That said, I didn’t love Adam this week.

TRACY: ::::incredulous, google-eyed stare::::

TROY: I KNOW!

Again, his voice is amazing, but I don’t love the abundance of showing off that goes on. I think Adam’s biggest problem is that he suffers from Aguileritis.

Symptoms of Aguileritis include showcasing your five octave range EVERY 3rd measure, stretching out a syllable to 10, pained facial expressions, and glass shattering.

If your loved one suffers Aguileritis, please … get them a glass of water.

TRACY: I think I might do a Keifer Sutherland Angry Head Butt on you if you were here. Since you're not, I'm just going to pretend you didn't go there.

TROY: I’m still on Team Adam though. Promise!

TRACY: I swear, if Adam doesn’t win this thing, I’m going on a hunger strike until America comes to its senses and sends Danny Gokey to the vet for de-barking surgery.

(I’m not being entirely unselfish here. After looking at photos of myself in that orange dress I wore to our cousin’s wedding, I could use a short hunger strike. Why didn’t you tell me I looked like the Great Pumpkin?)

TROY: (You did not!)

TRACY: And before we leave off with Adam, I’ll ask: Was Kara’s chair vibrating shortly after Adam’s song, or what? Because otherwise, there is no excuse for that mess. She called him sleazy? WHATevah, Jackie O’Nasty.

TROY: Useless Kara commentary? I’m shocked! Thank GOD Simon said she’ll be back next year!!!

TRACY: I'm praying to the TV gods that he's pulling a Barbara Walters and denying she's being fired, so she can come up with her own "exit story." Here's hoping for a nice Star Jones-esque trainwreck between this season and next!

Next up was ALLISON IRAHETA with “Cry, Baby.” Now you KNOW how much I love the late, great Janis, so the fact that I merely enjoyed Allison’s take and wasn’t pelting my TV with popcorn, toys, my small children, and whatever else was within reach is a huge compliment. But I have to say, she was freaking AMAZING during her exit (Rage.) performance. After I shifted my slack jaw back into place, I turned to my husband and went, “I actually really love this.” He called it "the best I-just-got-kicked-off-of-American-Idol performance I’ve ever seen.”

TROY: Totally agree. Allison’s final performance gave me goosebumps (a rarity in Idol-land). Did you notice Kara shrieking in her face as she was singing to them? “YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!!!!” I agreed with her and was disgusted at the same time.

TRACY: Ugh. I’m thinking that Allison’s high emotions after getting the unjust boot (Rage.) finally gave her that extra dose of oomph she needed to really tear the roof off the studio. If only the producers had known that earlier. They could have bitch-slapped her and told her her dress was ugly before every performance and maybe she would still be with us. I know they always tell contestants “this is not the end,” but this better not freaking be the end for her. She’s too talented.

TROY: If we would’ve seen that performance from Allison on Tuesday night, it would have made the list of the ten best Idol performances EVAH. She was robbed, man! ROBBED! Here’s hoping 19 Entertainment doesn’t force her to make some watered down Bo “The Real Thing” Bice drivel.

File “Iraheta” next to “Trenyce” in the “Underappreciated Idols” folder.

TRACY: Totally.

DUET #1: Again, it’s a huge testament to Kris’s talent that his being paired with Danny Freaking Gokey that I actually still loved their performance of “Renegade.” As much as it pains me to admit this, I think Danny’s half was the best performance that guy has given since the top 12 began. It was nice to hear him sing an up-tempo song that actually had some energy and a good melody.

TROY: This was amazing in comparison to the terrors Gokey inflicted later on in the show. I will (begrudgingly) admit that some of their harmonies sounded really great.

TRACY: However, I need to have a word with the sound mixers.

Dear Sound Mixing Guy or Girl:

After months of dealing with DFG’s obnoxious behavior, you should have known that he is the Molly Shannon of American Idol and would try his banshee-like best to upstage and drown out the softer-voiced Kris. Maybe next time you could turn his mike on mute and see if their voices balance better.

Sincerely,

Me

TROY: Oohh.. can I co-sign?

TRACY: Of course.

Sincerely,

Troy and Me

It was kind of nice seeing Kris rocking something other than a plaid shirt and long-sleeved tee. Leather jacket and motorcycle boots? Kinda hot. I finally see what all those teenaged girls are so gaga over.

Both of them went off key a little, but all in all, I liked most of it. (That would be the parts on which Kris was singing.)

TROY: I’m sad that Gokey received some praise in our recaps. I feel unclean.

TRACY: Rather than being the second coming of Axl Rose, KRIS ALLEN is more of an REO Speedwagon-style rocker. But I thought he managed not to sink like a folksy little rock, as expected. “Come Together” was a rather unfortunate choice, given how Carly Smithson killed it, stuffed it, and hung it on her wall last season—and at first, Kris’s version sounded like a pale imitation. But I ended up thinking that he put his own kinda nice spin on it, so I rewound and gave it a second listen. And I have to say, it was pretty darn good. I loved when he dropped it down an octave and tooled around with the melody in a few parts. It was understated, but very, very accomplished, and he got absolutely shafted by Squeaky Fromme and Simon. I cry “sabotage,” and I cry it hard.

TROY: Kris totally got thrown under the Idol bus. (driven by Kara and her runaway bride eyes). I enjoyed Kris’ performance and was shocked that the judges said he was lacking energy. The boy was singing, playing his guitar, and rocking out in his non-rock way. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM HIM PEOPLE? NIGHT TERROR SHRIEKING? (We’ll get to that later.)

TRACY: Kris’s wife looked so happy for him when he was officially declared a member of the top 3, all jumping up and down with her cute little pre-teen grin, that my maternal instincts kicked in and I wanted to jump up and down with her, and perhaps buy her a Cabbage Patch doll. I am thrilled that the American people had the good sense to keep him, even if they delivered an epic fail on Allison.

TROY: 5.6.09: Never forget.

:::moment of respectful silence:::

TRACY: I think perhaps it’s safe for Howard Dean to run for president again, because The Scream that Killed a Presidential Run might have just been overshadowed by that horrible, horrible drunken banshee wail coming out of DANNY FREAKING GOKEY’s throat. The last ten seconds or so of "Dream On" sounded exactly like that scene in that old 1987 horror movie, Prince of Darkness, where that girl barfs up her own intestines.

Double-ewwww. Tee. Eff.

TROY: You know I have to bring it up (as we do every Idol year), but remember the epic fail that was Jordis Unga on Rockstar: INXS when she performed “Dream On?” Need a reminder? “Dream On” is NOT a smart choice for a reality TV karaoke competition, people!

Jordis’ epic fail (and seemingly cramps-induced howl--see 2:12 in the video) is a musical masterpiece compared to the mess DFG inflicted upon us. My ears STILL hurt.

I do have to thank Danny because I don’t think I’ve ever laughed harder at an Idol performance than I did at this one (and I watched the Sanjaya season, people). The combination of this boy thinking he nailed it and the look of pure horror on the judges’ faces is classic.

Listening to the studio version isn’t much better. I think someone goes Lorena Bobbit on him at the 2:27 mark. Really.

TRACY: And what was up with the relentlessly dorky pin-striped pants and vest? Um, hello, ROCK NIGHT?! Couldn’t you at least put on a pair of jeans with a tiny fray in the knee or something? Pin-stripes? Seriously? And that chunkalicious chain with the pin-stripes? Looks like someone robbed Mr. T in his sleep, and with the way Mr. T’s career has been going since The A-Team ended, dude can’t afford to be losing any of his bling. That’s just cruel.

And Smarmy Gokey had Douchebag Moment #57 with his whole “I went home and laughed” about his screaming, flu-ridden banshee wail. I could just SEE his whole thought process in that smug mug of his: “Well, OBVIOUSLY I’m safe, because I’m awesome. Ergo, the botched note or two at the end of my song is funny, since there’s no way I could POSSIBLY be kicked off the show in all my awesomeness.”

TROY: Don’t forget Douchebag Moment #58 when he pulled a Guarini and told the judges something to the effect of, “It wasn’t that bad! I’ll have to go home and play back the tape!” Why are people voting for this man?

TRACY: Whatever. So bitter.

DUET #2: Allision and Adam were absolutely perfect together with “Slow Ride,” proving once again that Allison was so robbed. I can’t even talk about it anymore, or I might just turn green and burst through my clothing. Hulk sad.

TROY: I thought it was a weird duet choice (Allison said Adam “Play that Funky Music White Boy” Lambert picked it. Go figure.), but thought they both sounded flawless. If the producers can promise that these two will duet on tour this summer, I’m so there.

TRACY: I can’t let this recap end without discussing Gwen Stefani’s “performance” on the results show. OMG, did Gwen actually have a Jack Palance moment and do PUSH-UPS while singing “I’m Just a Girl”? [Who Sucks.] Wow, four push-ups. Holy feminist icon, Troy. Gloria Steinem should just retire.

TROY: Oh please. Would you rather she bake cookies for the boys while performing? Perform Destiny Child’s “Cater 2 U?” It was a call-out to REAL No Doubt fans who watched her do a similar routine back in the Tragic Kingdom days (where she did back-flips and way more than 10 push-ups). Don’t hate.

TRACY: It was a call-out to people who have the misfortune of being tone-deaf and easily impressed.

And where were her pet ~~racist caricatures~~ harajuku dancers? It’s a sad day when you can’t even make your own song sound like your own song. No wonder the judges were nowhere to be seen—Fox obviously didn’t want to have to show Simon hurling during that performance.

TROY: She’s back with the boys – no more Harajuku. And it was pre-taped!

TRACY: I can’t believe you like this mess enough to pay to hear her sing live. Since she doesn’t do backflips on stage anymore, I can’t imagine why that would be even remotely enjoyable. Hot mess of the night, y’all!

TROY: The woman was running around the stage like a maniac with the energy of a teenager and she’s forty! Give her a break!

TRACY: Dude, I'm 38--do I look like I should be in a home or something? I'm not impressed.

TROY: Your irrational hate of Gwen is blinding you from realizing the real hot mess of the night (hot mess of the WEEK was DFG by a landslide): PAULA ABDUL.

Gwen’s vocals have never been strong, but she at least sang LIVE, unlike a certain reality TV judge who makes a living on critiquing the singing of others.

TRACY: Ooooh. Oh, yeah, that was very, very sad. I was literally cringing on the couch in embarrassment for her. She's a better dancer than Gwen, though.

TROY: The dancing was great, but Paula couldn’t have even sang to her backing track? FRAUD!

According to the song, she’s just here for the music people (and, uh, the endless supply of oxycontin).

TRACY: Well, it oughta be fun watching Kris get sabotaged again next week. Here’s hoping the girlie-girl vote (and, um, mine) ...

TROY: (I’m in, too…)

TRACY: ... can keep him afloat into the finale with Adam (who had BETTER be a lock), because watching Smarmy Gokey for half of the two-hour show is probably going to make me punch my TV. And it’s new, so I really don’t want to hurt it.

Save Kris! (And Adam, of course.)

TROY: Right your past wrongs and make way to a better future. Vote Kradam for the finale.

We beg you.

American Idol Recap: Top 5!

2009-05-13T09:01:00.001-07:00

Troy's computer imploded, so we are behind. This week, we'll have a three-fer!
TRACY: Well, it was Rat Pack night, and our top five decided to make it All Ballads, All the Time night on top of it. You know, I would be so off my head with joy if Cecile Frot-Coutaz decided to make one of the last four themes "Oh, HELL No, You Can’t Pick a Ballad" night. Just once. Seriously.

Anyway, how terrific that a wholesome show like American Idol would choose Jamie Foxx and His Ginormous Ego to be this week’s mentor? I guess Tony Bennett, Harry Connick Jr., and Michael Buble all had to wash their hair Tuesday night.

TROY: Buble would have been ah-may-zing (since they've already had Tony Bennett mentor). You know Idol was totally worried he'd show up hammered again.

TRACY: I begrudgingly admit that Jamie F. did a nice job with the finalists and was pretty darn entertaining when he got all up in Danny Freaking Gokey’s (DFG) face. And yes, vocoder aside, the dude is SO talented. (I really did love him in Ray.) But after that whole Miley Cyrus debacle, he’s kinda dead to me now. And you KNOW you did something supremely un-classy when Troy and I are siding with a Disney-bot over you.

TROY: At least JF (and HGE) was coherent and gave good advice/feedback to the contestants, but I'm still scratching my head over his inclusion THIS week. "Blame on the A-A-A-A-A-Alcohol" doesn't seem like something that Old Blue Eyes would have sang. I do think Jamie thinks he's actually Ray Charles sometimes (see: "Gold Digger").

TRACY: I thought KRIS ALLEN didn’t quite get the credit he deserved for a lovely, totally on pitch, clear-as-a-bell performance of “The Way You Look Tonight.” Of the remaining five, he’s the only one I could actually buy as a crooner.

And it looks like Simon became this week’s Delphic Oracle, with his cryptically bizarre comment about Kris’s performance being “a little bit wet,” which he later helpfully clarified as being “not dry.” So, a dry performance is synonymous with a boring one, does that mean that he was giving Kris a compliment?

Do I care? No, I do not.

TROY: I actually really enjoyed Kris' performance. It wasn't "jump-out-of-your-seat" great, but it was on-pitch and, at times, slightly ear delicious (thanks Sedaka!). Sadly, I don't really have anything to snark about, but I do think the judges have it out for him. Enough with the DFG pandering and over-praising! UGH.

TRACY: Still love ALLISON IRAHETA. Still not loving her performances of late. Her “Someone to Watch Over Me” was a’ight, but I think if she’d been the only contestant to sing an up-tempo number, she REALLY would have stood out. Or, seriously, Idol vocal coaches, you couldn’t have figured out where Peggy Lee and the Rat Pack overlapped and steered Allison in that direction? “Black Coffee?” “The Boy from Ipanema?” Unfortunately, it was a snooze-fest worthy of a new Lunesta Fairy crown. I hold out high hopes, however, that she will pass said crown on to Danny Gokey next Tuesday as she sinks her newly 17-year-old teeth into Rock Week.

TROY: I respect your opinion, but WHAT DID YOU ALL THINK?

Ahem ... I mean ... I actually lurved Allison's performance this week, especially after the sucktastic of the last two weeks (seriously ... that "Don't Wanna Miss a Thing" debacle pains me, given my Iraheta love). I appreciated that she finally did something low-key and a little vulnerable.

Granted, I don't want Allison to take up where Lil left off (nap break!), but I liked that she mixed it up this week. It's versatility!

TRACY: Right. Oh, and how much did you love Jamie Foxx telling Allison that she was so “innocent” and obviously “too young to have ever been in love." But apparently in Jamie Foxx-land, she is, by two years, not too old to shoot heroin or make a sex tape.

TROY: Have to remember that this man also made the artistic, indie film "Booty Call."

TRACY: :::snort:::

As bitter as I am to see the talented MATT GIRAUD get the boot before DFG, I wasn’t smoking whatever Simon had that led him to declare Matt’s “My Funny Valentine” to be “brilliant.” I thought it was nice, but his pitch was more erratic than the size of my butt, and that falsetto at the end was totally weoird and unnecessary. Once again, I think he would have been AMAZING and a total stand-out if he’d chosen a faster number in that sea of balladry.

However, flaws and all, it was still a really nice performance, and he totally deserved to stay another week instead of Ringy McRinger.

TROY: Yo Yo YO, Matt ... Listen.... You know I'm a fan of yours, dawg. But for me, tonight, FOR ME, it was just a'ight. Some notes were just ... you know. You still did your thang, but I wasn't feelin it like usual, but props for your mad skills and pipes.

Still miles better than you know who.....

TRACY: Oh, gee ... who were you imitating? Give me a minute....

Speaking of DANNY FREAKING GOKEY, I have no idea why the judges and apparently the general public were so in love with his version of “Come Rain or Come Shine.” It started off as yet another mediocre raspy ballad, and then the spirit of Sylvia Plath recalling her electro-shock treatments seemed to invade him, and he went all spaz-o-matic. I swear, by the time he’d finished, that poor boy looked and sounded like he had a hairball.

TROY: I despise DFG and his stupid, smug smile. I have no more words....

TRACY: My oldest daughter Maggie has apparently jumped on the Danny Sucks bandwagon with you, Marin, and me, because while he was singing, she turned to me and pronounced, “Mommy, Danny Gokey needs to be in the bottom three, and then he needs to go home.”

His performance wasn’t helped along any by the appearance of Taylor Hicks on the results show, whose voice I’ve realized bears more than a passing resemblance to DFG’s. I was actually a bit embarrassed for the Gokinator, because though their voices are similar, Taylor just SCHOOLED him.

TROY: Taylor Hicks just SCHOOLED someone? Hell has frozen over, people.

TRACY: Yes, that’s right. I just complimented Taylor Hicks. Even though I was a big fan of Mr. Sweet Home Alabama during the beginning of his Idol run, he lost me somewhere around the Great “Play That Funky Music” massacre of Season 5, and the subsequent “Jailhouse Rock” debacle. But to my everlasting shock, he won me over again with “Seven Mile Breakdown.” Here’s how it went down:

So I hit the pause button on our Tivo after Taylor’s performance, and my husband and I just sat there slack-jawed and dumbstruck for a few moments. Then Jose was all, “Did we actually just like a Taylor Hicks song?” And I was all, “Is that really the guy who unleashed ‘Do I Make You Proud?’ on the world?” And he was all, “I KNOW!” And I was all, “’Member how we really liked him early on in Season XX? ‘Member?” And he was all, “I can’t believe that was actually kinda good. I might not even change the station if it came on the radio.” And I was all, “I KNOW!”

Apparently, getting dropped by 19 Entertainment has worked wonders on the neo-soul-man’s career. He finally got that bluegrassy, southern-rock swamp thing quality that I loved from his original audition back in his voice, and I thought he was just fab.

So SUCK IT, Danny Gokey. That’s how you really bring it when your voice is a Michael-McDonald-esque rasp.

...

Troy apparently fell asleep during my couch recap. Oh, well. Moving on....

ADAM LAMBERT was fab, as always, although I’m still desperately seeking another Wow! moment like “Mad World.” And I kinda wish he would put his tongue back in his mouth when he hits the high notes—he always looks like he’s trying to blow onion breath in the cameraperson’s face or something.

It was definitely Broadway, but I don t think that’s a bad thing—obviously Adam would be happy as a mascara-ed little clam to be cast in “Wicked” or a “Phantom” revival, etc.

TROY: I think he actually has been in Wicked....not sure what as though....

TRACY: Huh? Who knew? Oh, and I think calling Adam “sleazy” was rude and annoying, but what can one expect from Kreepy Kara? Pot, let me introduce you to sleazy kettle, who also happens to be a shrill, harpy-like kettle that I think should be booted off the show before my head explodes.

TROY: I actually HATED Adam's performance this week.

TRACY: ::::incredulous, google-eyed stare::::

TROY: I know!

"Feelin' Good" is one of my favorite songs of all time and I just hated the dramatics, the screaming, the tongue. I'm normally fine with Adam's over-the-top theatric style, but I just didn't think it fit for this week.

AWESOME entrance though...

TRACY: It was.

Wow factor or not, given his amazing chops, I would have been wicked, wicked (Heh.) devastated to see his foray into the bottom two turn into a fifth-place finish, but since it did not, I now see it as a bit of a blessing. If the producers didn’t rig that whole thing, then it was probably the wake-up call the Glambert fans needed to keep on dialing for my personal favorite. I cannot WAIT to see what he’s going to pull for Rock Week—please, God, don’t let him be Chill Ballad Adam next Tuesday

I’m thinking a tribute to my first love, Joe Elliott, or some Axl. Perhaps some Doors, if Rock Week isn’t confined to hair bands. Or maybe even some Janis turned on its head--THAT would be fun!

I’m also thinking that DFG is seriously toast. (At least, I’ll be doing a DFG is Toast Dance next Tuesday, appealing to the heavens to get him the heck off my TV set. Let me know if you want me to send you the steps.)

But what in the world is Slash going to do as a guest mentor, other than slouch in a corner with a cigarette hanging off his lip and grunt encouragingly? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that man speak, and I came of age during Guns-N-Roses’ peak.

Anyhoo, my top picks were: Kris and Adam

TROY: My picks are: Kris and Allison!

TRACY: Bottom pick: DFG, DFG’s enormous ego, DFG’s smarmy smile.

TROY: Preach.

American Idol Recap: Top 6

2009-04-28T17:00:00.000-07:00

(We're behind on AI recaps, because Troy's computer imploded. In the meantime, here's last week's, and we'll catch up when his new MacBook arrives.)

TRACY: It’s time for another AI recap, and once again, I am beginning with …

A Most Vehement Protest Against the Misguided Addition of Kreepy Kara to the Judges’ Table.

TROY: Preach.

TRACY: You know, dawg, I have my suspicions that the real Randy Jackson died years ago, and what we have at the Idol judges’ table is a clever humanoid, who will one day peel back his synthetic skin (MOOO-WAAHHHHHH!) to reveal a Terminator-esque adamantium skull underneath, complete with a malfunctioning chip that only allows him to speak variations on ten key sentences.

I told my husband on Disco Night that I feel like my head is going to explode every time he tells someone that they “can sing.” Given that this is a SINGING COMPETITION, isn’t this a wee bit obvious?!?! Seriously?!?! Maybe he could change it up once, and go, “You can really tap dance, man!” At least it would make those of us at home sit up on our couches and stop drooling.

TROY: Wouldn't it be more fun to turn Randy's commentary into a drinking game? Have a sip every time the word "dawg" is mentioned, a shot when he starts off with "you know, for ME...." and just down the whole bottle whenever a song is just "a'ight"

TRACY: And don't forget "pitchy," after which everyone should flip upside-down and have someone stick a bong in their mouth attached to a kegger--mainly as a coping mechanism.

Even though he is the most redundant human being on the face of the planet, he has enough of a benign friendliness about him that I didn’t used to mind his pull-the-string-on-my-back-and-I’ll-say-one-of-five-fun-phrases! shtick. But having Kreepy Kara basically repeat whatever repetitive chestnut he utters (now with buggy, Squeaky Fromme eyes!) is seriously endangering the health of my television set. Why? Because I involuntarily start throwing things at it whenever that horrible woman opens her mouth. Her voice … every word is like someone is driving a nail into my forehead, and I want it to stop. Make it stop, Cecile Frot-Coutaz. I’m begging you.

(Troy, I think you should change your last name to Frot-Coutaz, btw. Just for fun.)

TROY: (Business cards are already being printed up with that change. :) )

TRACY: (EGG-cellent.)

TROY: And Kara and her lockjaw can go (which...it sounds like the producers are already trying to set in motion). Here's hoping for some Carrie-style humiliation in the finale episode.

TRACY: Anyway, first up in the “you can sing” department is LIL ROUNDS, who I have no doubt can sing a decent shower medley. She can sing a lovely church hymn or rock out nicely in her car. Even in a karaoke bar, I have no doubt that Lil could hold her own and--you guessed it--sing. But on the Idol stage? Zzzzzzzzzzzzz. Lunesta Fairy Award for the season, right here. She looks cuter and cuter every time she comes out, even though I kinda miss her adorable short hair, but having fun taste in rock star clothes SO does not make one a rock star.

TROY: Lil still an aversion to picking a good song. Do you think she would have been better with "Don't Leave Me This Way?"

TRACY: Maybe, but even that fabulous song didn't do any favors for past Lunesta Fairies Ramiele Malubay and LaToya London any favors.

TROY: Tangent: WTF was up with that disco medley on the results show? Thelma Houston sounded great (although I bet the audience below totally saw her lady parts), but Freda Payne and KC Casey were total messes.

Both reminded me of that "Baby One More Time" reality show where they carted out bands and singers from the past to attempt to relive their glory days, only everyone aged about 30 years, gained 50 lbs. and lost their voices. Sad.

TRACY: I KNOW! It was totally sad, except for Thelma. Although like Paula a couple of weeks ago, her breasts must've been screaming in that dress.

TROY: Anyway....back to Lil. Boring. Safe. Expected. Blah. Don't you feel that we can just copy/paste the past week's commentary of her.

TRACY: And then … there's the backtalking. To be fair, Ryan totally baits her now (Aren’t you disappointed in their critique, Lil? Do you think what they said is fair, Lil? Really, what do you want to say to them in response, Lil?), but she should still have the self-control to not spout off like a messy two-year old every time someone rightfully tells her she delivers copycat, somnambulant performances. To quote the late, great Chris Farley,

Lil. … SHUT YOUR BIG YAPPER!!!!!!!

TROY: I almost felt bad for Lil (almost!) because she looked so sad when Simon was criticizing her. Then the spouting off at the mouth started, and you KNOW how I feel about that. Alexis Grace was booted for THIS?

TRACY: I know. I am tired of hearing her messy commentary, Troy (Frot-Coutaz). I'm so glad she was unceremoniously booted at the beginning of the results show.

TROY: Kara would get 10 cool points from me if she infused some Tyra-isms into her comments:

"I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU! WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU! LEARRRNNN SOMETHING!"

Or maybe we could just get Tyra to sit-in instead of Kara.

TRACY: I LOVE that idea almost as much as I loved the idea of adding a coked-up Whitney Houston last year!

TROY: Tyra is a world famous pop start after all. I present to you:

Exhibit A) Tyra's performance as a doll come to life in the Disney Channel original "Life-Size" (costarring Lindsay Lohan).

Exhibit B) Tyra's failed venture into the music with the single "Shake Ya Body."

I digress....

TRACY: So KRIS ALLEN ventured into Allison Iraheta and Jason Castro territory with his pre-song interview. Who knew that the song “She Works Hard for the Money” was so desperately in need of Cliffs Notes?

“It’s about a woman. … And she works hard. … For the money.

THANK YOU! For 26 years, that song has been a Sphinxian conundrum, and I am so relived that someone finally had enough intellectual fortitude and keen insight to decipher that Rosetta Stone of the late disco era for the unwashed masses. Praise the heavens!

Idiot analysis aside, once he started singing, I thought Kris finally had his moment (and without telling us that this was going to be his moment, too). I never really liked that song, but I loved his arrangement with the white-hot fiery passion of a thousand suns. Bongos all around!

TROY: Did you download the studio version? It's pretty great! I don't know if it was quite his moment (the song felt a bit hokey for me)...

TRACY: (Um, hello, disco!)

TROY: ... but he was probably the strongest of the night. Loved that he (Randy-ism alert!) made the song his own instead of attempting to do disco straight-on (see: the epic fail that was Josh Gracin, Season Two, with "Celebration").

TRACY: Ow. You HAD to bring that up....

Anyway, Paula was (gasp) spot-on in saying that it had a Santana-type feel to it. Original, cool, and very fun. And he also made his 12-year-old wife tear up, which was kinda sweet.

TROY: She's looking less and less Playboy each week too! Poor thing, she knows this marriage is doomed now.

TRACY: “September” is, by a light year, my three-year-old daughter Marin’s favorite song on the planet ever in the history of ever. (Nauseating cuteness warning: She actually calls it “Bah-dee-ow,” as in “Can you play 'Bah-dee-ow' now?) So I will leave it to her to critique DANNY FREAKING GOKEY. Here’s how her analysis went down Tuesday night:

Ryan announces before the commercial that someone is going to do Earth, Wind, and Fire.

TRACY: Marin! You love Earth, Wind, and Fire!

MARIN: I love Earth, Wind, and Fire!

We wait patiently for the commercial to end. Marin dances to a few of the catchier jingles.

Ryan announces after the commercial that Danny Gokey will be singing “September.”

TRACY (with marginally less enthusiasm): Marin, he’s going to sing your favorite song.

MARIN (hearing the brass intro): Mommy! It’s “Bah-dee-OW!”

Marin excitedly starts wiggling her little hips back and forth.

DANNY: Do you remember…? The 21st night of September…?

Marin abruptly stops dancing and glares at the television with all the wrath a three-year-old can muster.

MARIN (basso profundo): Mommy. That’s not “Bah-dee-ow.”

TRACY: Yes, it is. … I think.

MARIN: No, it’s not. That’s a mess.

Marin abruptly flounces out of the room, and nothing can convince her to come back until Allison starts singing.

I think that says it all, don’t you?

TROY: I'm so proud. Marin to replace Kara, anyone?

TRACY: Once again, I’m glad Simon is finally showing ALLISON IRAHETA some retroactive love, but I wasn’t off my head about her version of “Hot Stuff.” I actually liked the beginning (which Randy-squared didn’t), but then it just wavered into constipated slurring for me. (For you, for me….) I closed my eyes at one point and just listened, and I realized I REALLY would not want to be hearing that on the radio.

But I hope Simon’s warm-fuzzy streak when it comes to Allison is enough to save her, because she certainly deserved to not depart before Lil or Anoop.

TROY: Let's be honest: Allison blew.

I still love her and that the judges are at least appreciating her now. I thought this was probably her worst performance, but still light years better than anything in the Liloopkey-sphere.

TRACY: And once again, you know I loves me some ADAM LAMBERT, but I was totally, completely bored with his “If I Can’t Have You.” I was hoping he’d actually do it BeeGees-style, with the falsetto and all that, but as I mentioned last week, he has created an unfailing pattern of alternating up-tempo wackiness with deeply felt ballads. This was deeply felt ballad week, and unlike Simon, I wasn’t in the least surprised that he slowed it down right on schedule. Unlike “Mad World” and “Tracks of My Tears,” however, I was uncharacteristically meh about this performance. I figured he'd be safe, but I hope he can actually throw me another OMG! curve ball before the season is over.

TROY: I wasn't surprised either (You can tell what kind of performance you'll get from Adam based on his clothing selection--suit and slicked down hair? That's "Chill Ballad Adam"). I WAS, however, disappointed. Yes, he sounded great (sans screaming at the end--really could have done without that), but the feel was pretty identical to his "Mad World." Adam's the unpredictable one, yet this week he was utterly predictable.

Would "Proud Mary" have counted as disco? Cause I would have LOVED to have seen Adam perform THAT.

TRACY: Totally! But no, that's so not disco.

I’m not sure why Simon was so hard on MATT GIRAUD last week, but I thought his "Stayin’ Alive" was one of the evening’s best. It was contemporary, funky, fun, and wholly original, unlike SOME people. (I’m staring at you, Lil and Anoop.) I thought he was super-cute in his little porkpie hat, and I enjoyed the Justin Timberlake vibe. I did not enjoy the decidedly un-Justin-Timberlake botching of the falsetto, but it was a minor blemish on an otherwise fabulous performance. I call foul, Simon. Matt deserved more love that that.

TROY: See...I think Simon is playing reverse psychology. Anytime Simon gives Matt's performance a positive critique, Matt and his distracting mole (seriously...does that thing get bigger each week?) wind up in the bottom 2.

Matt gave a really strong performance and has come light years from the "Viva La Vida" debacle at the beginning of the competition. I can now be happy that the judges used the save on him since Allison and Adam did not get the boot.

TRACY: Is it just me, or did ANOOP DESAI totally look like Alfred Molina after his character went all whackjob in Not Without My Daughter? Bad, bad facial hair. Very bad. He has a terrific smile, and there is no sense in covering it up.

The singing wasn’t much better than the scruffy goatee. I’m not sure what Randy and Kreepy Kara were pouring into their Coca-Cola cups, but I’m glad it made that performance less painful for them, since they put it squarely in their maddening “you can sing!” category. My ears, my dog, and my daughters were all screaming in pain when he was finished. Awful, awful, awful.

And those stupid little jackets? I am tired of them. Even the yard-flamingo pink vest couldn’t save that boring-ass outfit.

TROY: I miss crazy up-tempo Anoop. He's just so BORING now and has super shaky vocals. At least he's curbed the back-talking, but damn. We should use this time to mourn those that could have been (feel free to cue up Sarah McLaughlin's "I Will Remember You" as you read the following):

- Jessie Langseth
- Alexis Grace
- Rickey Braddy

TRACY: I KNOW!!!! And my boy Ju'not.

TROY: Not surprisingly, Anoop was gonged off the Idol stage on Wednesday's results show (along with Lil ... the Lunesta fairy has left the building, people). Save for the Voldemort of this season (DFG), do we only have good singers left?

TRACY: Dude. That's unprecedented. Although I am bracing myself for the supreme injustice of one of the good singers getting kicked off before Danny Freaking Gokey.

TROY: Troy's Top 3: Matt Giraurd (and the expanding mole), Kris Allen, Ballad Adam (by default)
Troy's Bottom 3: Season 8's Lunesta Fairy and her Attitude, Voldemort, Anoop De-SIGH

TRACY: Perfect. (Although poor Matt! He can't help the mole.) Until next week!

Lit Quiz

2009-04-14T17:06:00.000-07:00

My friend Liz just sent this via Facebook. Books ... quiz .... It's like a siren call....

1) What author do you own the most books by?
Jeffrey Deaver

2) What book do you own the most copies of?
Pride and Prejudice (normal, annotated, and one with zombies)

3) Did it bother you that both those questions ended with prepositions?
No. It’s colloquial and suits the style of an infernal Facebook quiz (turned blog entry).

4) What fictional character are you secretly in love with?
Mr. Darcy, of course. Oh, and Raphael from Nalini Singh's Angel's Blood.

5) What book have you read the most times in your life?
The Girl with the Silver Eyes by Willo Davis Roberts

6) What was your favorite book when you were ten years old?
The Girl with the Silver Eyes by Willo Davis Roberts

7) What is the worst book you've read in the past year?
This horrible Wild Rose Press erotica “suspense” I had to read for a contest, which shall remain nameless to help the author avoid embarrassment when she comes to her senses in a few years. GAH!

8) What is the best book you've read in the past year?
Maya Angelou’s Letters to my Daughter and Junot Diaz’s The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.

9) If you could force everyone you tagged to read one book, what would it be?
Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card.

10) Who deserves to win the next Nobel Prize for literature?
I have no clue. This is probably why I’m not on the selection committee.

11) What book would you most like to see made into a movie?
David Weber’s On Basilisk Station. And please, God, don't let Halle Berry play Honor Harrington and ruin yet another booty-kicking action heroine.

12) What book would you least like to see made into a movie?
That Scooter Libby travesty.

13) Describe your weirdest dream involving a writer, book, or literary character.
Can’t remember any!

14) What is the most lowbrow book you've read as an adult?
Probably that Wild Rose Press erotica I mentioned above. By choice (sort of), Dear John by Nicholas Sparks, which was a book club selection. Let the record show that I did not select it.

15) What is the most difficult book you've ever read?
Balthazar and Blimunda by Jose Saramago. Unless it’s done by Virginia Woolf, stream of consciousness is the devil.

16) What is the most obscure Shakespeare play you've seen?
The Tempest. Not THAT obscure, but….

17) Do you prefer the French or the Russians?
The French.

18) Roth or Updike?
Updike.

19) David Sedaris or Dave Eggers?
Sedaris.

20) Shakespeare, Milton, or Chaucer?
Shakespeare, if I was forced to choose, in part because there’s more to love.

21) Austen or Eliot?
Seriously? SERIOUSLY?!?!

22) What is the biggest or most embarrassing gap in your reading?
Apparently Phillip Roth.

23) What is your favorite novel?
Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things, and all things Jane Austen that aren't Persuasion.

24) Play?
The Tempest

25) Poem?
Diane Wakowski’s “The Belly Dancer”

26) Essay?
Virginia Woolf’s “A Room of One’s Own”

27) Short story?
with Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Cask of Amontillado” or “The Masque of the Red Death,” and Joyce Carol Oates’ “Where Are You Going? Where Have You Been?”

28) Work of non-fiction?
Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar’s Madwoman in the Attic.

29) Who is your favorite writer?
In addition to everyone mentioned above, Willa Cather.

30) Who is the most overrated writer alive today?
Nicholas Freaking Sparks.

31) What is your desert island book?
The Complete Works of Shakespeare. It's a weapon and hours of entertainment in one! And you can squash tasty crabs with it.

32) And ... what are you reading right now?
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies by Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith (uh, maybe I should revisit that low-brow question….)

American Idol: Top 9 Recap

2009-04-06T07:06:00.000-07:00

TRACY: Before we start this week’s recap, let us take a moment to pause and remember Paula Abdul’s breasts, which looked so painfully tortured all smashed together, duct-taped down, and stuffed and steamrolled into that horrible dress, I don’t see how they could possibly have survived. Every time the camera zoomed in on her leaning forward, I reflexively crossed my arms and started whimpering.

TROY: Oh Paula. "Forever Your Girl," but pleaaaase stop shopping at Forever 21.

TRACY: Anyway, just as I predicted after seeing last week’s show, ANOOP DESAI brought the trainwreck back with a cover of Usher’s “Caught Up.”

It’s just a testament to how great that song is that I still enjoyed this performance and went running to iTunes to download the original for my workout mix. (Don’t worry, Troy—I liked it back when it was popular and am not actually discovering it 20 years too late, like I did with Flo Rida.)

TROY: (You JUST discovering "Low" is such a travesty)

TRACY: But Anoop’s take on it? Man.

My main thought is that he really, really has to lose the sneer and swagger, because it’s creepy. Even though he’s a good-looking guy, he has an irrevocable “lovable geek” vibe about him, which makes all that stomping and stalking around the stage in his turned-up-collar shirts purely ridiculous. That had all the street cred of Michael Bolton doing Bone Thugs-N-Harmony.

TROY: I get a little bit of a wannabe-K.Fed vibe from Anoop. Just saying...

TRACY: I think Anoop doing a song like “Caught Up” COULD marginally work if he delivers it with a smile and loose confidence, but that overly serious“I’m a gangsta-no really” schtick he’s been working is just silly.

TROY: "Caught Up" was so not the right song choice. Usher has some awesome songs that would have a) showcased Anoop's vocals and b) been much more of a crowd pleaser. "Yeah" or even "Confessions," anyone?

TRACY: And was it my imagination, or did Anoop TOTALLY TALK SMACK TO THE JUDGES?!?!?! I couldn’t believe it—Idol’s resident nice guy acting like a two-year-old denied a candy bar at SuperTarget. Seriously, man, you need to step up your game AND your manners if you want to20make it much farther in this competition.

TROY: Not your imagination and it totally should have equaled a AUTOMATIC ELIMINATION! He totally had a Guarini face when talking smack too, "I respect your opinion, but I'M AN R&B singer!" Whatever.

TRACY: Another person bringing the trainwreck back was MEGAN JOY CORKREY, with a very hammy, off-key, painful version of “Turn Your Lights Down Low.” I would say that Megan could have been helped by picking a song with more melody, but I don’t think she could have hit those notes, either.

TROY: Holy Smurf, this was bad. Megan Joy (where art thou, Corkrey?) was like a drunk girl doing karaoke, swaying and staggering, totally thinking she is the second coming of Lauryn Hill, but just embarassing the frak out of herself. This was so dreadful, and WHAT was going on with that hair? It was so unwashed and uncleaned that I wanted to perform an exorcism on it.

TRACY: They really should make frozen chopsticks, because I really need to ice down my eardrums after hearing that mess.

DANNY FREAKING GOKEY sang “What Hurts the Most,” about which I would have had fairly benign commentary except for the fact that I had both of this week’s shows on Tivo and watched them back to back.

During the results show, Ryan asked some of the contestants to do some imitations of each other, which they’d obviously been having fun with back at the mansion. Both Matt and Allison’s impressions were charming and obviously well-meant.

But I was stunned (but not surprised) to see DFG continue his “I’m A Douchebag” streak by not only choosing to imitate Matt Giraud’s worst performance, but by literally bleating like a goat during said imitation. Niiiiiiiiiice.

DFG, you and your ginormous ego are dead to me.

TROY: Amen. Unfortunately, I think we're stuck with Danny "What's 'Subtle' Mean?" Gokey for awhile due to the Christian/sympathy vote. The problem is this guy CLEARLY knows he's a ringer and he exploits this. The smug facial expressions! The creepy dance moves! Basically singing the same song every week!

I despise this man.

TRACY: The always charming (if not polysyllabic) ALLISON IRAHETA did a nice version of “Don’t Speak,” but like the judges, I was distracted by that Insane Marie Antoinette impression she was doing on the stage. That dress! That hair! Those horrible, horrible shoes! The pain!

TROY: It's totally fine for us to bash that horrifying outfit, but I'm so mad at the judges for ONLY concentrating on that. This is why Allison unfairly wound up in the bottom 3. Stop telling DFG that he's a god and save the praise for the contestants that deserve it. GAWD.

I'm biased because of my Gwen/No Doubt love, but I really enjoyed Allison's performance. The acoustic portion at the beginning was especially fantastic.

TRACY: She’s also still swallowing her consonants. Doesn’t that Idol voice coach teach these people ANYTHING?!

TROY: It's the braces! Stop making fun of her braces, Stan!

TRACY: Really? Having never had braces, I have no idea whether you need to swallow your consonants to avoid lisping or not. But seriously, if I made AI's top ten and had braces, I think I'd be taking a wire cutters to those things....

Don’t fall over, but I didn’t think SCOTT MCINTYRE was half bad this week. I’m not really a Billy Joel fan, but lots of people are, and Scott’s version of “Just the Way You Are” was emotive and kind of pretty. I thought his piano-playing was stellar, and I didn’t mind his occasional note shriekage.

TROY: I honestly cannot comment too much on Scott's performance because I fast forwarded through it. His 10 minutes of screentime each week make me feel like I'm one of Jigsaw's victims in the SAW movies.

It's like Seacrest's voice each week saying, "Hello, Troy. Do you wanna play a game? How much blood can you afford to lose as your ears bleed in the next two minutes."

That...or I fall asleep instantly. Sorry.

TRACY: Heh. I’m not saying I want him to stay much longer, but I didn’t hate the performance as much as usual. I would love to see him get a job as some famous band or musician’s piano player. (Somewhere where someone ELSE could pick the songs and arrangements for him, but he could still reap the good karma of his sweet personality by making money from his music.)

TROY: He's sassed back to the judges previously! AUTOMATIC ELIMINATION.

TRACY: Oooh, I forgot about that!

And again, Evil Idol Stylists, what are you doing to this poor guy?! Not only have they not fixed the Art Garfunkel hair, they made it exponentially worse by mousse-ing and blow drying it within an inch of its life. It’s not 1983, people! The guy said he’s looking for a nice woman to share his life with, and unless she is also blind, YOU ARE NOT HELPING.

TROY: We should start taking bets on how the AI crew will style him each week. I'm predicted Guarini-sized hair and Miami Vice-style suits for next week...

TRACY: As long as they don't bring out leather pants....

I’m not sure why the judges were so hard on MATT GIRAUD, but I really liked his take on “You Found Me.” I liked the gravel in his voice, and I thought the performance was contemporary and cool. (What was not cool was putting him in the middle of that group of swaying zombies from the Idol mosh pit. I was afraid that any second, one of them was going to jump up and start gnawing on his arm, which distracted me from the singing.)

TROY: I really like Matt, but I was a bit MEH on the performance. The vocals were a bit off (but the studio recording sounds FANTASTIC--go figure). And WORD to that horrible placement of him in the crowd. I really didn't think that would end well.

TRACY: I was also peeved at Simon for laying into Matt for “frowning” at him. Really? Really, Simon?!?! Danny Freaking Gokey, Lil, Michael, Megan, and Anoop all take a turn stomping, whining, and sassing back, and you pick on gentlemanly MATT for FROWNING?!?!?! WTF?!?!?!?!

TROY: Again, all of the judges are on Paula's crack this year (except, oddly, Paula herself. Go figure.).

TRACY: That said, I do understand their feedback that they want Matt to find his niche, but that is no reason to be hyper-critical about a really nice performance.

Oh, LIL ROUNDS. Such a powerful voice. Such a bad song selection. Celine Dion?! Really?

TROY: What's even worse is that Kelly Clarkson KILLED this song season one....and she was deathly ill at the time!

TRACY: It was funny, because the minute she started doing “I Surrender,” I started shrieking “MARY J. WHY DID YOU NOT SING MARY J!?!?!?!” at the television, completely with expansive, Italianate gestures. And then Simon apparently read my mind and asked her why she didn’t do Mary J. Blige’s version of U2’s “One,” which is so utterly kickass, that she wouldn’t have even had to have changed it up and made it her own. If you can actually keep up with the divine (but crazy) Mary J. and sing her version of “One,” which Lil absolutely can, you would have the judges and the audience eating out of your hand.

TROY: Preach. Lil and Scott are in the same "SOS--We can't pick our own songs!" boat. I started fast-forwarding around the :55 second mark...

TRACY: Note to Lil: If the show producers give you another opportunity to haul out “One” during a theme week, for the love of all that is holy, DO IT.

Also, she looked beautiful from the front, but baby got back, and that back in that dress looked like it was about to pseudopod around the stage. She has a slamming figure, but unless we are a size zero with no butt to speak of, the rest of us really need to understand some fabrics REALLY need to be accompanied by a good dose of la-la-la-lycra.

Oh, and another pun on Lil Rounds’ name. Thanks so much, Kara. You really add a lot to this show. ::::icepick::::

TROY: Is Kara the new Dunkleman? Talk amongst yourselves...

TRACY: OMG, she totally is!

I’m kind of embarrassed to admit that I love the original “Play That Funky Music” (How can you NOT dance when that starts playing?), and I don’t think anyone needs to be messing with it. But ADAM LAMBERT did, and I liked it! It wasn’t going to make me choke up like last week’s “Tracks of My Tears," but it was original and fun, which is more than I can say for a lot of these contestants.

(:::deep Mortal Kombat voice:::: FATALITY. Adam Lambert wins again.)

TROY: "Play that Funky Music," Tracy? REALLY? I weep for your iPod.

TRACY: Mean! I will find your guilty musical pleasure and exploit it seriously next round.

TROY: Adam was brilliant, but I still couldn't get over the fact that he sang this ridiculous song. What's next week? "Ice Ice Baby?" I did read that he wanted to perform "Don't Stop Believing," but wasn't allowed because it was the choice for the group lip-sync on Wednesday. Hmph.

TRACY: Paula continued her bizarre streak of coherence by comparing Adam to Mick Jagger and Steven Tyler, which I have to say is right on the money.

I have to confess, when he was all, “I just have to say a couple of things” right after Simon’s middling-to-positive feedback, I had a moment where I was really scared he was about to lose his shizz and backtalk the judges. (I mean, ANOOP just had!) But to my everlasting relief, he instead took that moment to praise and thank Ricky Minor and the band for his song arrangement. Now THAT is class. Can I adopt him?

TROY: Adam's a real class act this year, which is so refreshing in comparison to all of the other nutjobs this year. Even during the "Ring of Fyyy-yahhh" week, he kept his cool. Here's hoping he continues to get the support he deserves from middle-America.

TRACY: The one thing he MUST lose, though, is the jaunty little pompadour, which was charming during Motown Week and SO not working now. I love Adam’s razored cut, but the Elvis hair just makes him look like a Baldwin brother with a sad Dippity Do addiction. Curse the judges for overpraising how he “cleaned himself up” last week, because he’s great just the way he is, black nail polish and all.

You know, I totally would be writing about how KRIS ALLEN just had has Idol Moment with his utterly, utterly perfect “Ain’t No Sunshine,” if he hadn’t spent his entire interview package telling us that he was going to have his Idol Moment. AWWWWWKward.

TROY: You totally read my mind. You can't FORCE a moment...it just has to happen! If Kris wouldn't have kept campaigning, it totally would have been his moment. Either way, I loved the performance, even if the song wasn't as modern of a choice that I was hoping for.

TRACY: The strings were genius, though, and so was the singing. I wish he hadn't spoiled his moment with the verbal neon signs....

(And there was his wife, Anger Management Barbie, again. How do you get married at 12 and not have to work for a living? It’s all just lending further credence to my theory that she escaped from Hef’s clutches.)

TROY: She doesn't work??? Whaaaat!

TRACY: And then we had the results show, where Megan Joy Corkrey managed to not only get the boot, but to kill any hopes of a post-Idol contract.

What’s up with the insane CAW! on her way to the Stool of Doom? It was marginally okay after “Rockin’ Robin,” but on results night? And all that hopping around and hammy facial expressoins?

TROY: So MY theory is that she must have had Jason Castro's room and started taking some of whatever he was on. That girl was frakked up and I LOVED it. This was probably the biggest meltdown ever on the Idol stage and it will live on forever on my Tivo.

TRACY: After that mess AND sassing back to Simon about not caring about his feedback (and, by association, the competition), I think Megan not only drove a stake through her fledgling career, she drowned it in holy water, pelted it with crosses, and forced it to eat garlic. GAH. I would otherwise have been sad to see her go before Scott or Gokey, but seriously. That was bad.

TROY: But she has all of her FANS! "Megan Joy--'Where Did My Name Go?' Warbles The Hits" coming to a Walgreens 99 cent bin near you!

Also, I loved Lady Gaga's hot mess of a performance on the Results show. I do love "Poker Face", but what was that???

TRACY: The second Hot Mess of the Night, after Megan CAW! Corkrey.

TROY: (And Gaga says she's 23...um...someone's on the Catherine Zeta Jones age scale).

TRACY: Tracy’s top 3: Kris Allen, Adam Lambert, Paula Abdul’s chest for living to see another day

TROY: Troy's Top 3: Kris Allen, Allison Iraheta, The Ghost of Tatiana Inhabiting Megan's Body on the Result Show

TRACY: Tracy’s bottom 3: Megan CAW! Corkrey, Anoop Desai’s attitude, Danny Freaking Gokey’s ego

TROY: Troy's Bottom 3: Megan Joy's "Vocals" and smelly hair, Jigsaw McIntiyre, Danny Gokey's face

American Idol: Top 10 Recap

2009-04-06T06:39:00.000-07:00

TRACY: I let us fall behind, so we’re catching up with a two-fer Idol recap post.

Before we get to the songs, Troy, I just have to ask, are Adam Lambert and Allison Iraheta the only two contestants left who haven’t snarked back to the judges?! For a group that seems to get along so well, too many have a disturbing habit of forgetting their manners when they’re up on the stage listening to feedback. Sad.

TROY: I believe you're correct...and you know how much I HATE when the contestants sass back. Seriously, I think there needs to be a rule that once a contestant talks back to a judge, they are eliminated on-the-spot.

TRACY: Anyway, two weeks ago was Motown Week, and I have to say, I ADORE Smokey Robinson. He may not have had much to offer in the way of constructive criticism, but he has such a lovely personality to go with that amazing smile, I think he still managed to teach the contestants something, i.e. how far grace and warmth can take you in the music business, when they’re added to heaps of talent.

TROY: I agree and he seems super nice and is obviously a legendary talent, but ZZZzzzZzZZZZZzzzzz... Can we get a guest mentor who tells the contestant like-it-is? Raw honesty may have prevented us from having to endure Michael Sarver's massacre of "Ain't Too Proud To Beg"

TRACY: More on that, later. For once, most of the contestants managed to at last demonstrate why they made it into the top ten. So I guess we can put off recapping “Cooking with Nigella” for at least another week, Troy.

TROY: My Tivo is on standby for that season pass...

TRACY: As it probably should be....

Leading off that "FINALLY showing some talent" group was MATT GIRAUD, who knocked it out of the park with “Let’s Get it On,” completely obliterating my traumatic memory of last year’s Jared Cotter grinding and running his hand down his face while SINGING IT TO HIS MOTHER!!! GAHHHHHH!!!!!!

TROY: Thanks for that reminder--BLECH.

TRACY: Anyway, for once, I have more to say than, “Matt played the piano. He was a'ight.” Although he had a couple of wonky notes, overall, he worked it out. Good on ya, Matt!

TROY: Matt's one of my favorite contestants and this song definitely suited and showed off his mad vocal skills. However (this may be blasphemy), I'm just not a big fan of "Let's Get It On." I get that it's a classic and there are some awesome riffs, but it just sketches me out (probably because of Mr. Cotter's...uh..."interpretation").

TRACY: (Excuse me. I think my skin crawled into the next room while I was having the Jared Cotter flashback, and I need to go retrieve it.)

…

Another person who shocked me into REALLY liking him was KRIS ALLEN, with “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved by You). The 12-year-old wife was still in attendance (Doesn’t she have anything else to do other than camp outside the Idol mansion to beat off Kris stalkers, say a JOB?!), but I managed to focus more on his singing this time, which was terrific. I really, really liked him.

TROY: His poor wife! She so did not know what she was getting into when Kris was selected for Idol. If she sees what you're writing about her, you may have a new Debbie Gibson on your hands.

TRACY: You KNOW Debbie's "fan" is totally going to see this now. Nice one.

TROY: I've been a big fan of Kris' since the beginning and I really enjoyed this performance. It wasn't a MOMENT yet (it wasn't even Chris Klein/Meni Suvari's rendition in "American Pie"), but it was miles ahead of certain other people in this competition COUGHmeganCOUGH

TRACY: I also figured out why he was bugging me during the last few weeks. He looks like a white Enrique Iglesias, which added an even bigger ick factor to his performances for me than his angry pre-adolescent spouse. But now that I've figured it out, I have acknowledged the disturbing association and have moved on completely. I now like Kris a lot—he was fab.

Also … loved the shirt! (Although was I the only one who thought it might have the numbers from “Know1ng,” that new Nicholas Cage movie, running along the bottom)?”

TROY: Really? I was going to say that it looked like a computer virus was taking over him. The idea was cool, but employing the "less is more" strategy would have been very beneficial.

TRACY: SCOTT MACINTYRE was all over the place, except for on the right notes with “You Can’t Hurry Love.” He has a tendency to randomly shriek select notes here and there, so it was more like, “You CAN’T! HurRY LOOOOVVVE!!!” Ouch.

TROY: Again, the idea of reworking "You Can't Hurry Love" into more of a ballad is interesting, but Scott does not have the chops to pull it off. Again, super talented PIANO player, but just not a good singer. I definitely think he's our Lunesta Fairy this year.

TRACY: Agreed. And the pink pants?! MY EYES!!!! THEY BURRRRRRRRNNNNNN!!!!

TROY: The pink pants earn the EPIC FAIL award for this week. Jebus they were baaad. Like Clay Aiken-"Grease"/red leather jacket bad....

TRACY: Props to Scott for engaging in some pretty funny repartee with Ryan over said pants. Who is dressing this poor boy?! For the love of all that is holy, please STOP IT!!!! I think he'd do better if you dropped him in the middle of Macy's and told him to have at it.

He’s blind. That just ain’t right.

I have to say, during the results show, when Scott sang a little solo snippet in the Motown medley, I realized that he’s not all that bad when he’s not turning every song known to humankind into a Kenny G./Michael Bolton EZ-Cheez-fest.

TROY: It also proves that Scott cannot choose a song/arrangement to save his life. I'm so not a fan.

TRACY: You know I’ve been a fan, but MEGAN JOY CORKREY blew huge, gelatinous chunks with “For Once in My Life.” Even though Kara’s freakish intensity scares me sometimes, I think she was right on the money when she said Megan should have sung “My Guy,”—something fun and light in a slightly higher register.

Although perhaps it wouldn’t have been quite as painful if she’d actually managed to sing more than two notes in key. Ay.

TROY: Can you imagine a Megan drinking game? Have a shot everytime the girl goes off key! You'd be completely gone by the end of her 1 1/2 minute song.

Megan was horrifyingly bad.

TRACY: ANOOP DESAI did a terrific job with “Ooooh, Baby, Baby,” a beautiful ...

TROY:(i.e. PAINFULLY BORING)

TRACY: (Stop that! I love that song!)... song that really is all over the place melodically, and so difficult to sing. Anoop has a fab falsetto and unlike the person who came before him, managed to hit most, if not all of his notes.

However, what was with the funereal facial expressions? He looked like he was going to follow the “ooooohhh, babyyy, babyyyy,” with “someone just ran over my dog, and I am taking Cymbalta for my depression.”

Love that Randy asked him to bring the “energy” back. Next week, Trainwreck Anoop! Whee!

TROY: Thank God! Anoop's only saving grace is that he's a trainwreck when hopped up on "ENERGY." He reminds me a bit of Jessie Spano during her "caffeine pill" incident. Good times...

TRACY: MICHAEL SARVER was an unmitigated disaster of gargantuan proportions, and I am so glad he got the boot. “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg” is bar none my favorite Motown single from back in the day, and he slaughtered it. Listening to that mess was almost as traumatic as that time I watched Grandma behead chickens on the farm when I was five. (Did you know they actually do run around for awhile after you chop off their heads? :::shudder:::)

TROY: Lots of pleasant imagery in this recap today!

My feelings on Michael Sarver have been pretty clear since the beginning of the season. Not said to see him get the boot at all.

TRACY: LIL ROUNDS sang “Heatwave.” It was VERY competent, but overall, I am still kinda meh about this girl.

TROY: Lil never has an emotional connection to her song, creating the MEHs. Plus, "Heatwave" blows on Idol (Kimberly Locke ruined it for me in Season Two--back when Simon dubbed her the "Burger Queen").

TRACY: I was not at all meh about her cute fringey dress, though. She looked slamming in that frock, although I could have done without the horrible wig. Maggie and Marin have a toy box of dress-up clothes, and that thing on Lil’s head looked like their acrylic Morticia Addams wig after it’s been sitting crushed into the bottom of the box for a few weeks. She’s a gorgeous woman, but the bad wigs, man…. Painful.

So even you, who have not jumped on the ADAM LAMBERT train as wholeheartedly as I have, MUST admit that he did an American Idol performance for the ages with “Tracks of My Tears.” That was … that was … words cannot express how fabulous, how perfect, how utterly wonderful that was.

But I will try, because it’s my blog. Adam just showed all of the haters that he can indeed tone down the theatrics and the vocal bombast, and underneath the showman, there is one kickass musician.

TROY: I loved Adam! I've said that he's one of my favorite contestants this year! At least when he sucks (see:"Ring of FYYYY-YAHHH"), he remains INTERESTING.

I wasn't all that familiar with "Tracks of My Tears," but it was so nice to see Adam tone it down and really have a MOMENT. He was utterly fantastic and I have no snark for him this week.

TRACY: Ever since I had my daughters, I have a tendency to cry when I hear beautiful music (and watch sappy Hallmark commercials, but that’s another story). I have to admit, I got a little farklempt during Adam’s performance, and almost lost my mind when Smokey Robinson gave him a second standing ovation. (The first doesn’t count, because those goobers in the audience jump to their feet for everyone. Megan could caw an entire song, and I think they’d still give her a standing O.) SO gorgeous.

TROY: Crying over IDOL? You really just admitted that now? Really? :)

TRACY: Quiet, you.

I think the suit and slicked back hair was a nice change, but I hope that’s going to be the exception rather than the rule. I love Adam’s look, and I don’t think he should change a thing.

If I didn’t like snarking over this show so much, I’d just say these people should save the world some time and just declare the boy the winner.

::::deep Mortal Kombat voice:::: FATALITY. Adam Lambert wins.

As an aside, when is Kara going to relax? Those bugged-out eyes! That freakishly intense delivery! Those erratic, axe-murderer hand gestures! I feel like she’s going to run up on stage and drive an icepick into the contestants’ foreheads every time she finishes her commentary. “I’ve got SIX! WORDS! FOR! YOU!!!!! ONE! OF! THE! BEST! PERFORMANCES! OF! THE! NIGHT!!!!!!” ::::::icepick:::::

(BTW, I feel compelled to point out that that was eight words. I’m just saying.)

TROY: There's a bunch of reports that the rest of the judges despise Kara, so I'm thinking that the frantic delivery and gestures are part of her trying to prove herself or something. She's really useless, isn't she?

TRACY: Totally. I did not hear that about the other judges hating on her, but it gives me hope that they'll give her the Heisman before next season.

TROY: One benefit to the Kara addition is that she's really made PAULA step up her game this year. Articulate and constructive, I'm appreciating "the gift" more and more each week.

TRACY: That brings us to DANNY FREAKING GOKEY, whose dancing was so spazzy and epileptic, I had a hard time concentrating on the singing. His “Get Ready” was okay, but it wasn’t enough to make me like him or his attitude any more.

TROY: The dance moves! For the love of God, those DANCE MOVES.

TRACY: And did I miss something, or did this guy TOTALLY DISS SMOKEY ROBINSON?!?!?! He’s all, “I’m going to listen to Smokey’s suggestion to sing the backup part, because he’s been in this business lo nger than I have.” And then he gets up on stage and blows him off?!?! Let me say that again—Danny Freaking Gokey BLEW OFF SMOKEY "I have 37 top 40 hits" ROBINSON.

TROY: Sally Jessie Rapha-gokey is an asshat. I can't even snark properly because my haaate for him is so strong.

Enough said.

TRACY: I’m done with him. The Danny Freaking Gokey train has left the building, and I am running madly in the opposite direction with my hair on fire. What a tool.

I didn’t think anything could make me love a performance of “Papa Was a Rolling Stone” more than the unjustly ousted David Hernandez’s fab version from last season, but ALLISON IRAHETA totally laid down the funk and killed it. I think she’s terrific.

TROY: I've said it once, and I'll say it again, Allison is the best teenager this show has ever had (suck it, Jordin Sparks). I know it took a little bit for me to warm up to her, but I find her super-awkwardness very endearing and the girl can saaannng.

TRACY: That said, she really needs to start paying attention to her consonants, because she tends to swallow them. “Pa’a wahnuh rolllinnnnn stoooooooooohhhhhhhh! Wherevahhh heeee leeeehhhh hi’ hah wahn hin hoooooooome.”

Enunciate, chica! Eeee! Nun! Seee! ATE!

So all in all, a great show that didn’t come anywhere near the somnambulance of the last couple of rounds. I was glad to see the out-of-his-league Michael Sarver go. (Alexis Grace was so totally robbed.)

TROY: I agree--if only it could have been a triple elimination with Scott and Megan following him on the way out.

TRACY: Tracy’s Top 3: Adam Lambert; Adam Lambert again, because he deserves two spots; and Kris Allen.

TROY: Adam was great, but show Allison some love and your list is perfect.

TRACY: Tracy’s Bottom 3: Megan CAW! Corkrey, Scott McIntyre, Michael Sarver (by a mile)

TROY: WORD to this

American Idol: Top 11 Recap

2009-03-21T09:02:00.001-07:00

TRACY: Troy, I’m so bored with this season, I’m thinking we should have blogged Hell’s Kitchen instead. (Must. Stay. Awake.)

TROY: Too bad you don't watch Dancing With the Stars--unlike this Ambienfest, that's where the real shizz is going down (Injuries! Lil' Kim ... doing ballroom!).

TRACY: All I can say is THANK GOD we got country night over quickly—which can I just say was an egregiously transparent attempt by the producers to save poor Michael Sarver’s boot-ay? I can? OK.

Moving country night to the front end of the season was an egregiously transparent attempt by the producers to save poor MICHAEL SARVER’s boot-ay, and if there were any justice in the world, it SHOULD have been an epic fail. But, of course, it wasn’t.

TROY: The performance itself WAS an epic fail. Jebus, the gargling of words....the trouncing around on stage. Why must America continue to torture us so?

TRACY: He is a nice guy, and as happy as I am personally to see him get a spot on the tour just to get him away from his scary job for a little longer, I still think he’s out of his league. For his health and safety, Homeboy needs to cease and desist with all up-tempo numbers from here on out, unless Seacrest has an oxygen tank at the ready for him after his performance. By the time he’d finished “”Ain’t Going Down ‘Til the Sun Comes Up,” he sounded like he’d just scaled K2 instead of just singing for three minutes. I had a sympathy asthma attack when he was done.

TROY: I'm all for the "Michael Sarver is a nice guy," but he broke the number one cardinal rule of Idol: DO. NOT. SASS. THE. JUDGES. My god -- this man did NOT shut up during his critique. After interrupting Simon numerous times and basically reenacting Justin Guarini's "I respect your opinion, but what did YOU ALL THINK?" tirade, he is dead to me in this competition. Blech.

TRACY: I think I missed most of that, because Maggie and Marin were running around like chickens. That's too bad.

Anyway, am I surprised he didn’t get booted? No, I am not, because I remember that AI has a vast, powerful country-fried voter contingent who managed to keep the abysmal Kristy Lee Cook on the show for faaaaaaaaaaar too long. (To the everlasting chagrin of Maggie, my five-year-old rabid Amanda Overmyer fan, who STILL asks for Amanda whenever the show comes on, even though it’s been a year!)

If you don't vote for the country contestant, you hate America! Sigh.

TROY: I'm not shocked at all--if you even remotely associate yourself with country on this competition, you're guaranteed at least 7th place (exception to the rule being Season Three's Amy Adams who owened "Sin Wagon," but was booted shortly there after).

By the way, I'm sorta missing Kristy Lee Cook this year: the horse snark, the win-at-all-costs attitude she displayed (who can forget her pulling out of "God Bless the USA" when she knew she needed it). Sigh. I hate these contestants.

TRACY: Agreed. At least Kristy Lee provided good snark fodder.

I thought ALLISON IRAHETA was cute (nice outfit!), but unlike last week, that grit in her voice felt forced to me. I wasn’t off my head about her version of “Blame It On Your Heart,” but I was happy that A) she learned how to speak in polysyllabic sentences, and B) she looked comfortable on stage. I also may write in to EW.com and ask them where she got her shirt, because … SO CUTE!

I think the shirt alone was worthy of earning her a spot on the tour.

TROY: Ha! I thought she was decent, but nothing spectacular this week. Still, she's also so much more likeable now that she does more than giggling and grunting when asked questions.

One thing for sure is that Allison is definitely one of the best teenagers that has ever been on this show (even though I know you loved Diana "C'mon Ya'll!" DeGarmo).

TRACY: (Not.)

TROY: While I was meh on her this week, I loved Allison's performance last week and am happy she's still in the competition.

How funny was her "OH. MY. GAWD" reaction when Ryan told her she was in the bottom 3?

TRACY: I didn't notice, because I was having the same reaction. Unjust!

Oh, and thank God they brought in a fourth judge this year, because Kara really adds so much originality to the show--like when she told Allison “You can sing the alphabet!”

To which my husband Jose immediately chirped, “I bet you can sing the phone book, too!”

A fourth judge, just to parrot all of Randy’s overused chestnuts? Really? REALLY, Idol producers? Paula may be inarticulate, but I’ve been finding her critiques extraordinarily relevant this year (except when she told Scott not to rely on the piano—good God.) But at LEAST she’s not pulling that phone book/alphabet crap.

TROY: I am very bi-polar about Kara. I loved her petty fight with Bikini Girl (she looked like a damn petty fool, but it brought the LOL), but she really is not bringing anything to the table now.

And how scary is it that Paula is actually bringing intelligent critique to the table this year (when you can understand what she's saying)? Loved the Scott comments and I actually feel bad that she sorta got written off. No one ever recognizes her for the true GIFT SHE IS! (travesty HEY PAULA never got a second season...).

TRACY: KRIS ALLEN has a really nice voice, but I’m not falling off my chair or anything. That said, there’s something charming about a contestant who can do a clear-voiced, stripped-down “To Make You Feel My Love” without throwing in a bunch of vocal sturm und drang just to impress the judges. …

TROY: Again, I really like Kris Allen. "To Make You Feel My Love" is such a saccharine, dopey song, but I still enjoyed his straightforward, simple rendition. I'm not running out to download the mp3, but I appreciate that he didn't IDOLize his performance.

TRACY: Yeah, but just when I start to like him, the camera cuts to his angry 12-year-old wife, and I get a little creeped out. Yes, I know she’s probably of age, but I can’t get the Pedophile Wing of the Playboy Mansion outta my head.

I actually loved Carrie Underwood’s version of “Independence Day” back when she was an Idol contestant, but I was largely underwhelmed by LIL ROUNDS take on the song. I’m not sure why—she hit all her notes. It’s kinda cool to see a woman of color singing country, because I can’t think of a single Latina or African American or Asian female country artist ever in the history of ever. Her raspberry bridesmaid dress was a marked improvement over last week’s tapered, pleated turnip pants. But for me, her performance had all the emotion and depth of my neighbor’s birdbath. Meh.

TROY: Again, while Lil can hit notes, she has not proven that she can saaaang. She is suffering from Carriebot syndrome where there is absolutely no emotion connection to the notes and words she is singing. Carrie seems to have gotten over it, so there's always hope, I guess....

And while I really couldn't care less for Lil's performance, I DESPISED Randy's suggestion that she should have sang "I Will Always Love You." Really Randy? You want Lil' to go for the most-maligned song in Idol history? The most cliched option for an R&B singer to pick on country night? The SONG THAT, HAD SHE CHOSEN IT, YOU WOULD HAVE TOLD HER THAT SHE WOULD NEVER LIVE UP TO THE WHITNEY VERSION? REALLY?

TRACY: I KNOW!

TROY: *Sigh*

TRACY: And she mouthed back to Simon—it wasn’t horrible, but it came off as messy behavior which is not making me a fan. Bored now.

TROY: Agreed. Haaaaate.

"I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU?" REALLY!?!!

TRACY: Heh. We really have to start video-blogging you....

And now, I’m going to get a little angry. Because I loved, loved, LOVED ADAM LAMBERT’s wacky, sitar-drenched version of “Ring of Fire,” and I really didn’t get why Simon lambasted him so thoroughly. I really don’t get how Simon could tell Lil Rounds in one breath to transform a country song into a Mary J. Blige R&B joint, and then get all up in Adam’s face for transforming a country song to suit HIS style, instead of trying to sing like someone he is so obviously not. Having him come on stage and do a hoedown to “That Ain’t My Truck” or “Huckleberry Jam” would have been ridiculous.

TROY: Uh-oh we're in trouble here....I KNEW you'd like his performance. ;)

Now, I LOVED Adam's "Black and White," but this week's performance gets my HOT MESS OF THE WEEK award. The weird sitar strumming, the creepy vocals, I just didn't get it and can't see how it was a pleasure to listen to. Adam's range, while imrpessive, does not need to be on full blast everytime he sings.

Don't get me started on the excessive moaning and self-molestation that occurred on stage. Everyone in America needed four showers after that.

TRACY: I agree--maybe Adam could stand to stop mugging for the camera so much, before he ventures into the Land of Constantine. And with a sizable population of Idol voters coming from the Bible-thumping South, perhaps he might want to rethink the “hip-swivel, run the hand down the thigh, and VOGUE!” choreography—if he wants to sell out and make it on through to the end. But I encourage everyone out there, Bible-thumpers included, to ignore the second-coming-of-Freddy-Mercury theatrics and just listen, because his voice is heaven. (And Michael Sarver and Scott McIntyre's voices? Not heaven. So not heaven.)

TROY: I'm actually prety impressed with America for even keeping Adam in this week. I really thought this week's performance would have had middle America votes running for the hills while clutching to their rosaries. Although I hated "Ring of Fire," I'm glad Adam is in this competition. He brings something different to this competition instead of the blahs projected by everyone else.

TRACY: Note to Randy Travis: Stop being such an asshat, get out of Tennessee every once in awhile (and no, shuffle-stepping from arena to arena doesn’t count as “world travel”), and embrace the fact that not everyone is a macho, cowboy-hat wearing redneck JUST LIKE YOU. “Oooooooh! He has fingernail polish! Get him away from me, or his gay might rub off on me!”

And your wife is a judgmental idiot. Troy, did you see her refusing to clap for Adam and looking like she just got a faceful of acid? Beee-yotch.

TROY: I did! My guess is that her anger was more because of Adam's massacre of "Ring of Fire" and less about the black nail polish.

TRACY: I don't care what it was. It was still rude. She HAS to know the cameras were going to be on her and her overly blow-dried husband!!

TROY: Still so incredibly tacky of her and even less transparent than Gwen Stefani's evaluation of Sanjaya two seasons ago--"I mean...it's a hard song. He chose it. Good luck to him?"

TRACY: Brooke White’s Tennielle has found her Captain, and his name is SCOTT MCINTYRE. “Wild Angels” gave me the worst case of sugar shock since I went to the Minnesota State Fair and ate so much cotton candy, I threw up on my Garanimals.

TROY: You're in sugar shock--I'm in a coma. Seriously America? You want to hear THIS on the radio? Scott's voice isn't even good - he's frequently off key, his range is pretty much non-existant, and he constantly hides behind his piano. Totally agree with Paula that he needs to drop that FAST (not that it'll inspire me to vote for him either way).

TRACY: Now THAT I don't agree with. He's BLIND--he can't make eye contact with the audience, so he's just going to look weird and lonely standing up on the stage. But I agree that he should find SOMETHING different to mix it up--say, not sounding like a second-rate singer at church. Again, sweet guy, though. I really like HIM, but I’m not so much a fan of his elevator-esque song stylings.

For some reason, cloying 1970s informercial queen Sandy Patti also keeps coming to mind whenever Scott sings. Back in the day, people used to sell albums via infomercials, and big-haired, sticky sweet Sandy Patti was always hawking her gospel albums on our three channels. If you don’t have a clue who she is, just think about the kind of person who would be named Sandy Patti, and you’ll probably be in the ballpark.

TROY: :::Shudder:::

TRACY: I actually liked ALEXIS GRACE’s “Jolene”—it was so much more technically competent (and less annoying) than Brooke White’s last year. Yes, she might have missed a few notes, but only a few—and just about every contestant has this year. But she has a beautiful, clear voice and she manages to hold my interest on stage.

TROY: You can ice skate to Chicago to see me because hell just froze over--I actually prefered Brooke White's version of this song.

TRACY: ::::google-eyed, incredulous stare:::

TROY: I KNOW!

I hated the slowed down arrangement of "Jolene" and missed Brooke's bug-eyed, frantic performance. And while Alexis' voice is great, but this song did her no favors. Plus her performance seemed so detached from what the song's plea (still love imaging, "Jolie, Jolie...I'm beggin' of you please don't take my maaaannn").

TRACY: ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?! BROOKE WHITE?!?!?! Ampersand! Pound sign, percent sign, asterisk, ampersand!!!!!!!

I am all KINDS of bitter than she got booted before Michael and Scott. America, WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?! I want to find all these people and make them listen to Scott’s iTunes downloads over and over and over again until they come to their senses. This is how people like Kenny G hit the Billboard charts, people, and the madness needs to stop.

TROY: I blame Kara's obsession with wanting to dirrrty up Alexis constantly. She wanted that girl up on the pole and she wanted it baaad.

TRACY: It's true.

And what was up with the judges psychologically torturing her with that final performance. “We’re thinking of putting you through--now sing the song that we hated and convince us! ... Annnnnnnnnnnnnnd no.” That's only funny when you do it to Tatiana Del Crazy.

I think this would have been a perfect time to use the judge’s save, but of course, they’re probably waiting in case Lil Rounds or Danny Freaking Gokey need it. Alexis was totally robbed.

TROY: I am in total agreement. The sing-off is just mean (although we'd totally love it if it was Gokey up there singing for his life--only to get the boot). Heaven forbid the judges actually use their power for someone that's interesting and brings something completely different to this show.

Dirrty or not, I'm really disappointed Alexis is gone, especially when much lesser contestants are still in. Speaking of which....

TRACY: I’m actually surprised at myself, but I thought DANNY FREAKING GOKEY’s “Jesus Take the Wheel” was nicely done. I think it’s a smart strategy to sing a song popularized by the opposite gender, because you can’t help but make it different. Doesn’t mean I’m still not sick of him, but he did a’ight.

TROY: I had to laugh because before Ringy McRinger's performance, Ryan teased that it would be a Carrie Underwood song. I said outloud, "It's so going to be 'Jesus, Take the Freakin' Wheel.'" Lo and behold, look what arch-nemesis performed.

I again just hated this performance. Manipulative and shrewd, it was typical Gokey the entire time. He has decent vocals, but I just don't think I'll warm up to this guy. You?

TRACY: Not so far. But I didn't mind that performance, so maybe it's a start.

ANOOP DESAI played it way too safe for me with a serviceable and technically proficient version of “Always on my Mind.” I think I would have rather seen him try to set it to a hip hop beat or something, because at least Trainwreck Anoop is more fun to watch. Yawn. (Must. Keep. Eyes. Open.)

TROY: I agree. Vocals were fine, but I just wasn't feeling it. Where's the fun Anoop that performed "My Prerogative" or Hot Mess "Beat It" Anoop?

TRACY: MEGAN *cough* CORKREY *coughcough* sounded like she had a speech *coughcoughcough* impediment on “Walking After *cough* Midnight.” What was up with those crazy inflections and bizarre vocal swoops? (“Bah-EYE-uh the MOOOON-laaaaaaaahttt!”) I know there is a really nice voice in there, but she needs to find it, stat—unless she plans on being hospitalized for the *cough* flu every week to garner sympathy votes. And with Widowed Danny, Blind Scott, Michael “I-Have-a-Horrible-Career” Sarver, and I-Live-in-a-Hotel Lil in the competition, there may not be enough *cough* sympathy votes to go around. *coughcough*

TROY: Yeah, totally wasn't buying the flu either. I needed her to yarf on-stage to make it more believable (Kristy Lee Cook would have done it).

TRACY: (She totally would have!)

TROY: For sympathy, Megan should just say her arm has gangrene. I'd buy it.

And weren't you defending Megan's freak-ay voice last week? Another weird song choice with Megan pouting like a 1920s pin-up girl. The schtick barely works for Katy Perry and it's not working for you at all, honey.

TRACY: She does have a nice voice when she's not hamming it up! It was MUCH more affected and weird this week.

TROY: Lastly, did you notice she was just Megan "Joy" this week? The hell?

TRACY: I refuse to acknowledge when the contestants change their names. YOU'RE NOT THAT FAMOUS YET, PEOPLE!!!!

TROY: I guess it's just part of the yearly Idol name drop/change mid-competition (ex: Tiffany Montgomery becoming RYAN STARR...Mandisa "BIGot" Hundley becoming just 'Mandisa').

TRACY: MATT GIRAUD sang “So Small.” He plays the piano. It sounded okay.

TROY: Matt was actually my favorite of the night. There! I said it!

I really like the original and really loved Matt's stripped down version. And, unlike elevator music Scott "Ninth Floor Please" McIntyre, Matt can actually sing! That said, I'm really hoping he finds the right song soon to properly showcase his voice and step away from the pack.

TRACY: I don't know the original, so maybe that's why I wasn't too into this performance. Meh.

GOD, I’m giving them ALL the Lunesta Fairy award—except for Adam and the unjustly ousted Alexis—this time around, because this season is turning into the most incompetent, boring season EVER! (Can you imagine the voiceover possibilities? “In the most shockingly boring episode of the season, all ten contestants manage to put the entire Idol audience into a simultaneous coma. You don’t wan t to miss it!”) God bless Adam. Here’s to him bringing the crazy (and the five-octave range) every week!

TROY: Bet you miss Tatiana now.

TRACY: Strangely enough, I do.

TROY: Troy's Top 3: Matt, Kris, Allison
Troy's Bottom 3: Michael, Scott, GOKEY

Honorable Mention: Thanks to Adam for bringing the crazy (but I'll be sending you my doctor's bill for my bleeding ears and burned corneas)

TRACY: Tracy's top 3: Adam, Alexis, my pillow.
Tracy's Bottom 3: I can pick only three?!

I don’t even know what to say. I hate this season, Troy. I'm giving this show one more chance, and then we're going to start blogging Cooking With Nigella instead.

TROY: The crazy's on DWTS and Top Model! I promise! :)

TRACY: I'm going to go take a nap.

Team Jacob. Totally.

2009-03-20T07:42:00.000-07:00

My friend Eileen Brennan is blogging today on the Liquid Silver blog about the impending release of the Twilight DVD. She doesn't really get the obsession with Edward.

As I mentioned in the comments, I don't really either. I was always firmly on Team Jacob, a fact which all of my Twilight-reading friends think is very, very weird. I think it has to do with being the mother of two girls. As I told Eileen in the comments section of her blog, I would want my girls to choose the NICE guy who is always there for them--not the suicide-threatening drama queen who freely admits he is constantly tempted KILL THEM IN THEIR SLEEP. This is not a healthy relationship, people.

The movie did make me appreciate it more. I know a lot of people will be headed to Borders at midnight to get the DVD, but as my brother Troy, Font of All Pop Culture Knowledge, informed me, Target's DVD is a better deal. You get more extras and an exclusive digital version for your iPod.

When Self-Promoters Attack

2009-03-17T11:37:00.000-07:00

I have to confess, I’m the furthest thing from a promotion genius. I habitually forget my bookmarks when I go to events and booksignings (I’m actually lucky if I remember a pen), don’t update my website as often as I should, and sometimes have to fight the compulsion to apologize to people who have read my books for the third book in the Mission: Family series. (I just had a baby—I was tired.)

But after attending countless conferences, here’s what I do know about self-promotion: it can really, really, really backfire on you if you don’t do it right. By all means, buy ads; invest in a cute bookmark or labeled trinket; volunteer to speak and mention your work. Tactfully bring it up in conversations with other writers, too, if you want. But do not, I repeat, do not go too far, or you will forever burn yourself into potential book-buyers’ psyches as That Annoying Asshat Author Who Won’t Shut The Eff Up About Her Book.

Trust me, being an AAAWWSTFUAHB has the exact opposite effect on your unwitting victims as you would wish. You want them to buy your book, but pelt them with one too many personalized emery boards, recite your website URL once too often, self-promote too rabidly, and readers will sense the waves of desperation coming off you like blood in the water. Act like an Annoying Asshat Author, and these potential readers will not only not buy your book, but they will go out of their way to grab random strangers in their local bookstore to tell them how much you suck.

(OK, I’ve never actually done that. But I know I’m not alone in having fantasized about doing just that when being accosted by one of these people….)

So how do you avoid crossing the line from building healthy awareness of your magnum opus to being the living embodiment of fingernails screeching down a chalkboard? Don’t worry—I’m here for you. (Did you doubt I would be?) If you are promoting a book at RT, RWA, PASIC, NINC, or any of the other writers conferences out there this year, please (I'm begging you) keep in mind my …

Top Ten Strategies for Promoting Your Book at a Conference Without Being an Annoying Asshat Author Who Won't Shut the Eff Up About Her Book

1) It’s good form to at least pretend to be interested in the other person when you are having a conversation. If not, you risk rapidly getting to the point where even if the other person somehow had the choice between a horrible death by wood chipper and buying your book, she might just take her chances with the wood chipper. I know there have been times when I would! (Because, after all, I couldn’t be arrested for assault if I gave a wood chipper a good swift kick and then ran away screaming.)

2) I don’t want to hear about how your e-publisher or single-title publisher is so much better than Harlequin. Do I really have to explain this one?

3) If I start pelting you with garlic and holy water, and chanting at you in Latin, it probably means I am tired of hearing about your book.

4) Telling me you think your own book is “SOOOOOOO good” will make me point and laugh at you. Which is always so awkward.

5) Do not blah all over everyone you meet about your book within the first few minutes of meeting them. Every conversation should be a two-way street, and if you’re doing all the talking about yourself, and everyone else looks like they’re about to projectile vomit on you, that’s probably a good sign that you are a rabid self-promoter.

Seriously, if someone makes me feel like a hapless buyer on a used car lot while I’m standing in line for the conference bathroom, there’s no better way to ensure that I will never, ever, EVER buy her book. I WILL, however, remember her name forever, and not in a good way. I will take pleasure in walking by her again and again during a booksigning, repeatedly picking up her book, and then going, “Mmmmmmmmm, no.” I will dart across the bookstore aisles in which her work resides for years to come to avoid so much as BREATHING on her book. Why? Because it’s perversely fun, and sometimes I get a little bored.

Judging by the snarky comments I’ve heard from friends after their run-ins with rabid self-promoters, I’m guessing I’m not alone.

6) If you’ve mentioned your book title more than, say, 3-5 times in a five-minute conversation, you may have a social disorder and should check out some self-help books on improving your conversation skills or not causing unsuspecting strangers to accidentally lapse into a coma.

7) If, while you’re talking to someone (like, oh, ME), your eyes glaze over like a card-carrying member of a zombie horde (uuuuuuuunnnnnhhhh!) while your mouth starts reciting your back cover copy (:::arm flail:::), I WILL know you’ve mentally gone on auto-pilot. Trust me.

Once again … social disorder. Go have a drink to loosen up, and then find a mirror and practice saying, “So, tell me, what do YOU write?” and “What’s your favorite part of the conference so far?” and other two-sided conversation starters into it until you mean them.

8) Unless I have expressly asked you to add to the already monolithic stockpile of author bookmarks, magnets, postcards, book covers, and buttons that are sitting in a closet while I try desperately to will them back into trees, please do not force your promo material on me. I don’t mind you asking if I want one, but to just shove one in my hands while I’m talking to someone else, or eating breakfast, or, say, rapidly running away from you is rude.

9) Saying, “Oh, I’ve read your books” to another author and then not following up with any sort of commentary appears like a lie at best, condescending at worst. Shoving promotional material into her hands after that kind of crap behavior? Even worse.

If you can’t say something nice, say nothing. It’s totally okay not to have read someone’s books. It’s not okay to mess with someone’s head. (I'M FRAGILE, TOO, OKAY?!?!?!?!)

10) If I seem to be deep in conversation with an old friend I haven’t seen since the original Beverly Hills 90210 was on primetime, do not, I repeat, do not interrupt with some fake-ass question and then immediately segue into an endless drone-fest about your book. Because I will probably punch you in the face—or at least be fighting a strong compulsion to do so until you stop flapping your mouth at me and go away.

BONUS TIP: The best way you can promote yourself to other writers at a writers’ conference? Be nice. Be helpful. Be genuine. If you're presenting, give a good speech and don't talk about all the jewelry and cars and clothes you bought with your (alleged) giant advance to a group of struggling writers. I firmly believe everyone has it in her to do all of the above (except, perhaps, for those who really do have a social disorder)—so have a glass of wine, r e l a a a a a a a a a a x, and just be yourself!

(And say it with me, “So, tell me, what do YOU write?”)

It's American Idol (You Knew We'd Be Back!)

2009-03-15T13:28:00.000-07:00

TRACY: Another year, another season of American Idol, another round of my brother Troy and I entertaining ourselves by publicly snarking about each show. We’re not sure if other people find us amusing, but we’re rather funny on our planet.

Unfortunately, Troy and I always manage to run out of steam and never seem to make it to the finale. This year, in an effort to actually finish up the season, we decided to skip the semi-final rounds and just start with the finalists.

Last year, we dubbed Ramiele “Lullaby” Malubay the Lunesta Fairy of the Season for her unimaginative song interpretations and dumpy fashion sense. This year, judging by those semi-final rounds, it looks like we had at least 15 people vying for that honor, with nine remaining in the Top 13. I'm not sure we're going to make it two weeks from now, the way this season's going down.

TROY: Word. Creativity is NOT a strong suit of this year's wannabes.

"What's that? You chose a Whitney Houston song to sing? How outside-of-the-box!!! Why even have a competition now?"

TRACY: ::::snort::::

I do miss Rose, the blonde with the funky outfits and no parents who had her dreams crushed during Hollywood Week, and my boy Ju’Not, who was TOTALLY ROBBED during the semi-finals (He sounded like Seal, people!).

TROY: Like Seal? Mmmkay. And Rose, Tracy? Really? After shaky Hollywood vocals and that weird, wobbly Hobbit dance she did while botching said vocals? REALLY?

I miss Jessie Langseth--not that she had the best voice or stage presence, but she picked interesting songs and had unique vocals (still bitter about JASMINE MURRAY being chosen over Jessie--WTF Judges?).

TRACY: Agreed. I loved Jessie Langseth and thought she knocked "Bette Davis Eyes" out of the park. I don’t know what the judges are looking for this year, but apparently it's not originality. These contestants seriously need to up the entertainment quotient, or the producers are going to be forced to inject some interest by bringing Crazy Tatiana and her 15 personalities back every show and go, “OK, you get another chance. AAAAANNNNNNNNDDDD, you blew it. Back home you go. … No, really, you get another chance. AAAAANNNNNNNDDDD you suck. Back home you go.”

(Actually, it would be kind of fun to see her melt down every week. That girl either needs medication or a serious karma boomerang on a daily basis until she stops being such a self-centered drama queen.)

TROY: Tatiana was a goddess who, unfortunately, only graced Idol with her presence for a short time. I've never been so entertained by an Idol contestant before! Plus, her crazy was MUCH more digestable than that Jackie Tohn creature (may she fall in to obscurity. I have never been more annoyed by an Idol contestant--the trucker voice! The creepy facial expressions/possessed twitching while singing!).

TRACY: Tatiana? A goddess? Excuse me while I leave the room to avoid expelling my lunch on my laptop.

...

Anyway, onto the top 12.

The night started off with LIL ROUNDS (if I hear another pun using her name, I swear to God I’m going to put my head through my TV set). The Mom Who Lives in a Hotel has a big, booming voice and rarely strays off key, but I give her the Lunesta Fairy award for this round for not meeting the voting public’s expectations. I found her rendition of “The Way You Make Me Feel” unimaginative, and that “Go on, Boy!” that started it off disturbingly awkward.

TROY: Agreed. Lil can sing, but she can't saaaaang. There's rarely any passion in her voice outside of hitting the big notes. I felt the exact same way about her Mary J. Blige rendition last week. All big notes, but no connection to the music.

And can I also say that I'm so sick of Lil' and Danny Gokey (more on that DB later) producer pimping? We get it Idol producers...you want the comeback kids to be in the finals. STOP with the manipulative pre-roll.

TRACY: I know! And dear God in heaven, WHAT was Lil wearing? Somebody tell me the fashion industry isn’t seriously trying to bring back tapered, PLEATED pants?!?! Have they not HEARD the “What Not to Wear” people pointing out how that unless you are a double-zero, tapered, pleated pants make your backside look like a turnip-shaped billboard? (Although it could make for an interesting foray into creative ad placement….)

Because Lil’s not a woman—she’s a MOM.

I didn’t mind her fluffy lavender top as much as Simon did, but I kept thinking during her performance that it really, really wanted to grow up and be a cocktail dress instead of a shirt.

Final verdict: “Meh” on the singing, “MY EYES!!!! THEY BUUURRRRRRNNNN!!!!” to the pants.

Next we had SCOTT MCINTYRE, who is obviously a sweet, sweet guy with a lot of (piano-playing) talent. But “Keep the Faith” is a horrible, horrible song—at least when it’s given that 1986-Bruce-Hornsby kind of treatment. He went off key a few times, and the whole song just sounded dated and irrelevant—I can’t even see Clay Aiken’s fans embracing that mess. Pleasant voice; nice guy; terrible, terrible song.

TROY: Didn't the judges and Scott say that we'd see the REAL Scott McIntyre once he got behind the piano? If this is him, then we may have our new Lunesta fairy. He's a super nice guy, but I can't think of one thing that would make him relevant to today's music scene. He's just tragically boring.

TRACY: Speaking of tragic, someone needs to give this poor guy a decent haircut. It’s obviously not his fault he has bad hair, because he can’t see! Ergo, I blame his peers—friends don’t let friends look like Art Garfunkel.

TROY: WORDY MCWORD. It's like a curlier version of Robert Pattison's rat's nest in between Twilight films. I'm sure it's also full of secrets.

TRACY: Heh. Because he is such a good guy, I’m glad he stayed THIS ONE TIME and hope he can become more current and fun.

TROY: I'm not. He will NEVER be current and fun on this show. Again, nice guy, but it's going to be the same schtick over and over, most likely sending him a long way in the competiton. SIGH.

TRACY: Hey, a girl can dream. (Of not being bored out of her skull all season.)

OK, I know DANNY GOKEY lost his wife at a tragically young age. It’s awful and totally unfair, and I will never stop feeling for the guy. But I’m totally not feeling the love so many people—including, apparently, the Idol producers—have for his singing, thanks to some of the nasty attitude he showed during the semi-finals. Particularly rolling his eyes at and cutting off Ryan Seacrest after his first semi-final performance.

TROY: Not to mention glaring at Tatiana and openly judging her for the crazy that she is. We all did it at home ...

TRACY: ... OH, yes, we did.

TROY: ... BUT YOU'RE ON TV! STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO HER! Show some class....

I also feel HORRIBLE about his wife--so tragic and awful. However, I feel that both he and the producers are being incredibly manipulative in using this tragedy to make Gokey Ringy McRinger. This guy KNEW that he would sail to the top 12 and much further.

TRACY: (You're all about the "Mc's" tonight, aren't you?)

I mean, seriously, people. Ryan Seacrest gets enough abuse—including from that revolting, adulterous Brangelina couple ...

TROY: (Let it go Tracy! Team Saint Jolie, BTW.)

TRACY: (You mean Team Sociopath.) ... and he just keeps smiling through it all while being unfailingly kind to the contestants, especially when they get the heave-ho. He’s good at his job—I can’t imagine having to single-handed provide as much verbal filler as he does during the shows. (I’d be stammering incoherently and then running off the stage crying.)

In short, if you can’t be nice to Ryan, you are dead to me.

TROY: He was horrible to Kathy Griffin--Karma Boomerang.

TRACY: True, but Kathy can SO take care of herself. I'm guessing he's learned his lesson on that front.

TROY: For the record, I wasn’t that blown away by his performance of “PYT,” either.< /FONT>

I thought it was much, much better than Lil' and Scott's performances. I still want to break his red glasses, but PYT was the earworm after Tuesday's show. Not that that really has anything to do with the quality of a performance. (Who can forget: "Here come the sun...?")

TRACY: ("Doo-doot-doo-dooooot...." :::zombie wave:::)

I’ll give it a “meh” with a side of “shut the eff up and sing, you diva!”

(Back to Ryan, did you notice how far off the stage he was standing when Kanye West performed during the results show? I had this feeling that Kanye was all, “Yeah, I’ll do Idol, but don’t let Seacrest rub his geek off on me.” Poor Seacrest.)

TROY: Pretty sure Kanye was pre-taped, so Ryan had to stand far away to make it look like it was live. :)

TRACY: Really? They're pre-taping already? E-gads!

That brings us to MICHAEL SARVER, who sang “You Are Not Alone,” a rather charming ballad that he managed to turn into treacle. Seriously, my boy Ju’Not got dissed for THIS?! I’m bitter, people. I’m really bitter.

TROY: Jessie Langesth! Bitter, Party of Two.

TRACY: Michael seems like a nice guy, and I would love to see him succeed on the country charts just to get him out of that dangerous job of his. But would I ever listen to his music? No, I would not. I think he has a pleasant voice, but he’s out of his league so far.

TROY: I totally agree. I just don't get the appeal--who the heck is voting for him? If it wasn't for country week next week, I'd say his time on Idol would be coming to an end shortly.

TRACY: JASMINE MURRAY has to have the best-looking family I’ve ever seen on the show. Which leads me to the only thing I really have to say about her Mariah-Carey-copycat rendition of “I’ll Be There”: She sure wears pretty outfits.

I predicted her ouster right after hearing this. Lovely voice, but a tragically forgettable performance that often went tragically off-key.

TROY: SHE WAS A WILD CARD. BEFORE JESSIE LANGSETH. RAGE.

Sorry--Jasmine's inclusion to the top 13 and subsequent performance made me have Carmen Rasmuessen flashbacks :::shudder:::

TRACY: I really liked how KRIS ALLEN started off with “Remember the Time,” with his original, Jason Mraz-ish interpretation. But it didn’t take too long before I turned to my husband Jose and started singing, "This. Song. Has. Onnnnnnllllyyyy. Six NNNNOOOOOTESSSSSSS” along with the music. Meh.

TROY: I like Kris? I think he needs a lot more time to grow and make himself stand out a little more, but there's just something likeable about him. Then again, I'm a fan of Jason Mraz-type music so I may be a bit bias.

TRACY: And did you see his wife? What was she, like 12? I’m thinking he rescued her from the Pedophile wing of the Playboy Mansion, and she got some sort of judicial pre-teen waiver to marry him in gratitude.

Homegirl also looked a little angry when Simon started talking about how he shouldn’t have admitted to being married that early on in the show. So I have some hope that the wife will thrown down on Simon at some point during one of Kris’s performances. It would make them a lot more interesting.

TROY: That was AMAZING. She'll totally get Daughtried once he gets a little more famous.... Wait...what? Daughtry is STILL with his wife? Uhm...

TRACY: Eh, when you look like you just escaped the Pedophile Wing of the Playboy Mansion, you probably won't have too much trouble fighting off the tween-girl hordes.

As for the performance, I give it an “it was a’ight” with a side of “Ju’Not was so totally robbed.”

TROY: Really? With the Ju'Not still? I'm going to start pimping the "Tatiana was robbed" comments for the rest of this entry.

TRACY: ALLISON IRAHETA is starting to grow on me. I have to give it to her for not picking something totally ridiculous (Anoop!) and taking a chance on the not-so-well-known Michael Jackson B-side, “Give In to Me.” I listened to the clip of Michael doing this song in iTunes, and it creeped me the hell out—I just kept picturing him singing it while stalking a young Macauley Culkin through the deserted halls of Neverland. But Allison made the song sound like it was written just for her. Her voice wasn’t perfect, but she was definitely original, and the song suited her perfectly.

TROY: I really liked Allison's performance.

TRACY: Wow, she turned you around. You were a total hater during the semi-finals.

TROY: She's a total spaz, but it makes her more endearing. I haven't heard the MJ version (but just imaginging = yeesh), but I loved Allison's spin on it. Another earworm that sounds pretty good in the studio version. I'm curious to see what she does next week for Country.

TRACY: (Dear God, country?! To borrow a line from our brother Tommy, I might have to stick a couple of chopsticks in my ears and start scrambling as a preemptive survival measure.)

Had to crack up at her “I’m not dark. I’m not cutting myself” comment to Simon when he erroneously told her to lighten up. I don’t think she should lighten up at all, because singing edgier songs makes her different—and provides a welcome break from Scott’s elevator-esque stylings, among others.

TROY: LOL. Yes! I love Paula's horrified expression when she said that (or she just was startled by a loud noise and needed more meds). Allison is not perfect, which is why I like her more than Ringy McRinger.

TRACY: That said, girlfriend needs to stop with the horrifying grimaces. At one point while talking to Ryan, sh e grabbed her chest and pulled her lips back, and I thought she was going to tell the studio audience that it was shriveling up and about to fall off. Chronic grimacing = so not cute.

Oh, and she should probably learn to speak in coherent sentences on camera.

TROY: Advice than can also be directed toward Miss Abdul.

TRACY: I love ANOOP DESAI’s personality and his voice, but he really has to stop pretending he’s such a groovy cat. It comes off about the same as when Mom used to adopt my “Oh, gag me” Valley Girl teenage slang when I was in high school.” (Tragically exacerbated by the whole Spanish accent thing.)

TROY: She did? That's hilarious!

TRACY: Ohhhh, yes, she did.

Anoop, you are a nerd—a loveable nerd, but a nerd all the same. Embrace it, and stop turning your collar up and stalking the stage like a wannabe fresh-out-of-prison West Coast hiphop artist. “Beat It” was a travesty, and that should never, never happen again. ::::shudder:::: Having Kanye West on the results show just made him look even more ridiculous in retrospect. (Note to Anoop: Please don’t pull that kneeling-on-the-stage-dropping-your-head-in-your-hands thing that Kanye did. It won’t work—trust me.)

TROY: Like Anoop. HATED the performance. I thought his performance of "My Prerogative" was awesome, but this was a hot mess (first Troy-dubbed "hot mess" of the season!). Did this remind you at all of the "Mathlete" rap in Mean Girls?

No? Just me?

TRACY: No, I can see that. Or Leelee Sobieski dressed as DNA in Never Been Kissed.

I’m glad Anoop gets one more chance, but if he pulls that kind of mess again, it’s time to pull the plug.

Another contestant just brimming to the gills with personality is JORGE NUÑEZ. He has a nice, Marc Anthony-like tone to his voice, and I think he’s cute as a bug in a blanket. But “Never Can Say Goodbye” was a forgettable choice capped off by an utterly forgettable performance. (Except for those formidable eyebrows, which while he's singing always look to me like they’re going to jump off his face and start crawling across the stage shrilling, “Ryyyyaaannnnnn! Feeeeeeeeed ussssss!” Gah.)

I rightly predicted that Jorge would also get the boot, along with Jasmine. Sad, but he earned it.

TROY: Ay, Dios mio. Jorge...our Latin brother, was a disaster. He has a nice voice, but went to the Anwar Robinson School of Song Choice (Anwar Who? Exactly...). I was very tempted to fast-forward through his performance out of sheer boredom, but powered through. It felt very much like a torture chamber in Hostel.

That said, I'm very jealous that he got to meet J.Lo (and Marc Anthony) as they reportedly said his performances drove them to tears (bored to...?). Hope he finds his niche and finds some success.

TRACY: I’m a big fan of MEGAN CORKREY’s, even with the abysmal dancing. “Rockin’ Robin” was a silly choice—there is absolutely no way to make that wedding-reception staple of a song current or cool. But that said, I love the unique, folk-singer quality to her voice and the hippie-chick vibe. She’s this year’s Brooke White, without the herculean capacity to annoy the crap out of the free world.

I’m glad she stayed, and I hope her next song choice is more free spirit, less Bar Mitzvah.

TROY: WHAT? You're pimping Megan Corkrey? And comparing her to Brooke White, whom you HATED? WHERE IS MY SISTER?

TRACY: I loathed Brooke White. I just meant that Megan is this season's resident folk singer, except SHE actually sounds like she could stand up against the Indigo Girls and Dar Williams.

TROY: I HATED Miss Gangrine Arm with the 4-Note Range. Who the eff picks "Rockin' Robin," spastically dances to it, and expects to garner fans? She seems like a sweet person, but day-um.

SHE WAS WILD CARDED OVER TATIANNA/JESSIE LANGSETH!

TRACY: Can somebody get my brother a paper bag to breathe into?

(Back to Brooke Whitefor a moment, what was UP with her “performance” a couple of weeks ago? Did someone actually spend the money to make a record out of that mess? I can’t re member the name of the song she was so sure was so fabulous, but it sounded like the Captain and Tennielle without the Captain (and everyone knows you gotta have the Captain). Now I’m all about musically revisiting the 1970s, but not if you’re making the kind of music that’s regularly pumped into the elevators at your local Belk’s. Gross. Someone please collect all those CDs, break them up into little pieces, and rain them down on the terrorists.)

TROY: I believe you can find it next to Diana DiGarmo's "Dreams" in the Walgreens 99 Cents bin...

TRACY: Yes, thanks to some jackass posting private photos just to start a scandal, I, the Girl with No Gaydar, now know that ADAM LAMBERT is gay. But that doesn’t mean I can’t still have an inappropriate crush on the guy. SUCH a cutie, and I’m so glad that losing the homophobic mouthbreather vote didn’t hurt his chances this week.

TROY: Broadway? The shrieking vocals? Guy liner? Did you even need gaydar? :)

TRACY: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I give you Exhibit A: Pete Wentz and William Beckett. 'Nuff said.

Inappropriate crush notwithstanding, I loved, loved, loved Adam's version of “Black or White,” particularly the verbal middle finger he put in the line “I told them about equality, and it’s true you’re either wrong or you’re right."

TROY: I do like Adam, and I LOVED this performance. While I like HIM, I haven't been crazy about his performances, but he really nailed this song. This was my favorite of the night and the studio version has made its way to my iPod (yes--I'm a loser.)

TRACY: (Ummm, mine, too. :::cough:::)

I am, however, a little worried about his penchant for going all Skid Row on us and howling notes like a desperate lead singer from the last of the Hair Bands when Seattle grunge was on the rise. (Ah, Seattle grunge. How I miss you.) I LOVE that he has that crazyass vocal range, but is singing like Sebastian Bach really relevant now? Can he make it relevant again?

I think he might need to tone it down every once in awhile, just to keep from looking like a one-trick pony. (A five-octave trick, but a trick nonetheless.) But I love him, so I’m going to keep on dialing whether he does or not.

TROY: I'm hoping we see this side during Country week (doubt he can display the five-octave range during "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy"). Maybe a quieter, acoustic version of something like "Crazy" or a Dixie Chicks song?

TRACY: MATT GIRAUD did “Human Nature.” He plays the piano. It sounded okay. (Ju’Not!!!!)

TROY: TATIANNA!

TRACY: :::::forehead smack:::::

TROY: Matt Giraud was freakin' AMAZING pre-Top 36. His "Georgia on My Mind" was bloody brilliant. However, ever since then he's been on a downward spiral of suck. Pick it up, Piano Boy, or you'll get a Tyra-esque meltdown from me shortly.

TRACY: Ooooh! Ooooohhh!! We might have to video-blog that!

Closing off the show was one of my favorites going in to the Top 12, ALEXIS GRACE—that tiny sprite who is so impossibly pale, she looks like she might explode if someone accidentally exposed her to sunlight. I liked her version of “Dirty Diana” and think there was something original and fun in there. But she ruined it a bit for me by swallowing the word endings on half of her lyrics, and grimacing and crouching around the stage like a younger and only slightly less insane Joan Rivers gagging over a bad dress at the Daytime Emmys.

I think Simon was right when he said she probably thought it was better than it was, but I think with a little fine-tuning, she could really have something with that cover.

TROY: We're on the same page with a lot tonight--I totally agree. Alexis is my favorite female in the competiton and, while I liked her take on "Dirty Diana," I felt like there was just something a bit off. That's not always bad, but it did need a little more work.

Still, I have no doubt she'll only get better and better.

TRACY: Agreed. Oh, and was she wearing some kind of onesie-jumper thing? Because if that was a (microscopic) dress, those swaying zombies in the front row got more of a show than they bargained for.

TROY: Well, the judges bassically DID tell her to skank it up a bit more....Probably why they gave her the porn spot for DIAL IDOL numbers (apparently IDOL-13 went to an adult phone chat line--hence the new IDOL-36 number).

TRACY: Heh. CONCLUSION: I think the strongest performance of the night was Adam Lambert by a light-year, followed by the imperfect but interesting singing of both Allison Iraheta and Alexis Grace. Still love Megan Corkrey and hope for better next time. The rest … meh, with an extra side of more meh to Jasmine Murray and Jorge Nuñez. Sad as I am to see the little Latin boy go, I think America made the right choice.

TROY: All this fashion commentary from you and nothing about Kelly Clarkson's epic fail of an outfit? I loves me some Kelly, but her outfit made her look like a gold fringed trash bag with two wrasslin' cats inside.

TRACY: Ooooh, I was trying to scrub my brain of that image. Who dressed that girl? Miss Teen Texas? The ghost of Liberace? A Dolly Parton-impersonating drag queen? ARRRRGGGGGHHHH!

TROY: Positive Kelly Note:"I Don't Hook Up" and "Ready" on her new album are totally worth a listen.

Troy's Top 3: Adam Lambert, Allison Iraheta, and Alexis Grace (but probably should be Danny Gokey vocally--YARF)

TRACY: Double YARF.

TROY: Troy's Bottom 3: Bottom 3: Jasmine Zzzz, Jorge Nuñez, Scott McIntyre.

Rock On, Lilly Ledbetter.

2009-01-22T18:04:00.000-08:00

(Or Tracy gets her nerdy political geek on.)

Tonight, the Senate, led by the formidable Senator Barbara Mikulski (D-MD), passed the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act of 2009. The House is expected to pass the bill next Tuesday, and President Obama has promised to sign it into law.

Lilly Ledbetter was, for 19 years, the lone female supervisor at a Goodyear tire plant in Alabama. That's right--19 years. Shortly before she retired in 1998, she found out that she was being paid thousands of dollars less than her male colleagues in the same positions, including those who'd been hired after her. She filed a lawsuit immediately after she received an anonymous note upon learning that lovely fact, and a jury agreed that this was an egregious case of sexist mouthbreathers keeping a good woman down--they awarded her $3 million. Goodyear appealed the case up to the Supreme Court, which ruled 5 to 4 in 2007 that Ledbetter shouldn't have been able to file her case more than 180 days after "a specific discriminatory event."

Nine of the 12 federal courts that heard this case as it was making its way to the Big Nine said that each crappy-ass paycheck Ledbetter received should be considered "a specific discriminatory event"--and so her case was well within the statute of limitations instituted by a previous law.

With women STILL making 77 cents for every dollar a man makes doing the same job, this vote is massive for working women across the country. The Institute of Women’s Policy Research says that this discrepancy will cost women anywhere from $400,000 to $2 million in lost wages over a lifetime.

The House is expected to sign the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act into law on Tuesday, and since President Obama argued hard for the 2007 version that got voted down in the Senate, it's pretty clear Lilly Ledbetter has won a massive victory for women everywhere. And actually, even more people: the new law should also help American workers pursue claims of pay discrimination on the basis of not only gender, but race, religion, national origin, disability, or age. I haven't found any claims that it will help with discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation, but I hope so.

So, please join with me in sending a big mental "suck it" to Goodyear, Justice Roberts (who authored the Court's decision on the Ledbetter case), and everyone who puts corporate greed over the basic rights of hardworking people--who need fairness more than ever in this economic crisis.

Done now. I'll be funny again next time. (At least on my planet. Can't promise that on yours.)

Hey, Zulmara!

2009-01-22T18:02:00.000-08:00

If you see this, you won my Chica Lit blog tour prize. Please contact me via my website with your mailing info!

And my huge apologies for the lateness of this notification. I thought I'd posted it, but when I checked, it was still in the "edit" stage. Ay.

Chica Lit Blog Tour

2009-01-11T05:42:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the final day of the New Year's Chica Lit Blog Tour! With all of the date switching and link confusion, I figure it'll be a miracle if anyone gets here. But if you do, just answer the question at the end in comments, and you'll be eligible to win a $10 Powells.com (indie bookstore) gift certificate and a copy of my latest Harlequin Intrigue, I'll Be Watching You.

**I will post the winner of L.M. Gonzalez's prize as soon as I hear from her.**

The following is the very-much-in-progress prologue from my new manuscript for Intrigue, working title Soldier Resurrected.

Mosul, Iraq, 200 miles north of Baghdad

At exactly 1730 one summer evening, four shadowy figures materialized out of the dimness surrounding a squat, nondescript house on the southern edge of Mosul. They moved quickly, melting back into the shadows alongside the stone structure long before anyone noticed they were in the area.

At least, that’s what Private Angel Delgado hoped. Because otherwise, they were all kinds of screwed.

The Iraqi city was widely known as a terrorist hot-spot, one of the few areas that US military forces hadn’t been able to fully take throughout the whole of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Although they were among the best that the Army had to offer, Delgado had no interest in taking Mosul at the moment, and neither, he knew, did his fellow soldiers. All they had to do was capture one small house on the outskirt of the city. Just a walk in the park for six men from the 75th Ranger Regiment, 2nd battalion.

Driven by the high of the thrill-seeker’s cocktail—adrenaline and fear—Delgado crept along the rough-hewn wall toward the stone structure’s back entrance. He had to admit, it was mostly adrenaline that coursed through his muscles, fast and furious. He probably should have been feeling the fear more—especially since from where he stood, all signs pointed to the fact that they were heading into an ambush.

This mission was either going to earn them Bronze Stars, or become the biggest fustercluck in Ranger history.

They’d been tipped off that an American soldier, a flyboy by the name of Captain Johnny Chang who’d been MIA for the past two years, was being held in this very residence. And so the Air Force had called on the Rangers to find their boy and get him out, after which their planes would rain flaming destruction down on that creep-tastic stone house until it and the terrorist scumbags who called it home were nothing but a rubble-strewn black crater.

But Private Delgado had his doubts about that intelligence. Sure, the source was a Shi’a—a member of the Muslim faction who’d been persecuted by Sadaam Hussein’s regime and had the most to gain from the US presence in country. And yes, that Shi’a proven his worth in information previously on at least two occasions, although said information had never been this hot.

“What do you think, Delgado?” his commanding officer had asked him just before they’d moved north from Camp Diamondback into Mosul.

Delgado had turned his head to look pointedly at the sky. “If I were trying to ambush us, I’d say right now was a perfect time to drop the news about Chang.” And drop the news that the airman could be relocated any minute, so they had to move now. The hot desert sun loomed huge on the horizon like a ball of hellfire coming to smack them all in the face. It had just started its descent behind the sand dunes—and Delgado didn’t have to explain that dusk and dawn were the most dangerous times of day for soldiers battling insurgents in Iraq’s dangerous northern territories.

Visibility was always excellent under a hot, relentless desert sun. And at night, they had equipment that gave them cat-like night vision. Dusk and dawn? Neither their own eyes or the damn goggles worked as well as a soldier under fire would like, so until the sun made up its mind to come up or disappear, visibility was seriously jacked.

Like it was right now. Murky, dim, impossible light.

But his CO had just nodded grimly, acknowledging the challenge—and that Operation Free Johnny Freakin’ Chang was going to go forward as planned. The intelligence said that Chang could be relocated on the drop of a dime, so they had to move now. They were Rangers. If there was the remotest chance that Chang had survived imprisonment and torture for three years in enemy hands, they had no choice but to move in and get him.

Never quit.

Never accept defeat.

Never leave a fallen comrade.

And ambush or not, the insurgents probably hadn’t counted on coming up against the full force of the 75th Ranger Regiment’s 2nd battalion.

Private Delgado waited for the signal, blending into the long shadows on the structure’s east wall, moving only his eyes. Their target stood set apart from a cluster of homes to the northeast. Silence weighed heavily in the still air, coating the neighborhood like a stifling security blanket. Nothing stirred—not a hand behind a curtain, not a shadow in a doorway, not a gunman on a rooftop.

All clear.

All quiet. All still.

Too quiet. Too still.

But it didn’t matter now. Never leave a fallen comrade.

Johnny Chang, you’d freaking better be alive.

“RLTW,” someone whispered over the headsets. Rangers lead the way.

In a swift, sudden movement, Private Delgado kicked open the back door. The wood gave immediately, splintering underneath his boot. He moved in, swinging his GUN in an arc across the room. A black-cloaked figure rose from behind a table. Delgado’s finger flexed on the hair-trigger of his weapon. He had only milliseconds to assess “friend or foe.”

Private First Class A.J. Ramez moved up to flank him. And Delgado stepped in the line of fire.

“Civilian!” he shouted, sweeping an arm out to move the veiled woman aside, his hand on her waist to confirm that she wasn’t hiding a boatload of C4 under her hijab. She shouted at him, a bowl of rice clutched in her brown hands. PFC Ramez spoke quickly into his headset, then started chattering to the woman in Northern Mesopotamian Spoken Arabic—a language he’d learned from his Jordanian-American parents—as he hustled her toward the door.

While Ramez handed the civilian off to a couple of soldiers outside who would hustle her over to the Humvees, Delgado strode across the room, clutching the handle of the door on the back wall. He heard the shout of “all clear!” behind it, seconds before he pulled it open and came face to face with PFCs Harrold and Isenberg.

All clear. All too quiet. All too still.

Isenberg swore at the sight of Delgado and Ramez, at the too empty house. At the knowledge that Johnny Chang was nowhere near them and never had been.

And the ground shook with fury as a mortar hit the side of the house.

“Ambush! We walked into a goddamned ambush!” Jenkins shouted as he followed Delgado out the western door, into the kill zone. Sure enough, IEDs ignited around them, raining sand and chunks of God-knows-what down onto their helmets. With ear-piercing whistles, RPGs whizzed through the air around them.

Ducking his head, Delgado charged down the dusty road, flanked without hesitation by Ramez, Isenberg, and Harrold. Men wearing black hoods melted out of the shadows, in doorways, on rooftops, behind stacks of tires and piles of rubble—some so close, the shell casings fly into the air like popcorn.

The dim twilight made it almost impossible to spot every one of the telltale muzzle flashes from the enemies’ AK47s, and lesser men would have ran to the east, back to the Humvees hidden behind the abandoned mosque, two clicks away. But operating completely on Ranger instinct, Delgado led the other three men straight into the worst of the fire, and they followed—as he’d known they would--firing their own weapons and running with everything they had.

Rangers were armed with close-assault weapons, no match for the long-range of the AK47s. So they did what they were trained to do. Assault the ambush. Close the range. Do exactly the opposite of what the insurgents expect.

Because had they gone east, they’d all be dead now.

With a guttural rebel yell, Privates Roderick “Alabama” Harrold swept into the nearest one-story building, Isenberg flanking him. Ramez and Delgado put their backs against the wall, providing cover. Delgado pulled the stock of the M4A1 against his shoulder and fired at a nearby rooftop. The kickback of the weapon left his hands tingling.

A hooded, black-clad figure jerked back, then went limp and toppled off the roof.
Another took his place within seconds.

The world slowed down, and Delgado moved as if through water, easily dodging a rain of gunfire from the roof. Ignoring the needles piercing his palms, he brought his weapon back up.

Isenberg and Harrold barreled out of the house, blood spatter dotting their dirt-smeared faces.

Delgado aimed for the man on the roof.

The bullets crossed in the air. The terrorist fell to his knees, sliding down the slanted tiles toward the ground.

Harrold went down with a shout. He clutched his leg, raw and bloody from where the AK47 bullets had shattered his kneecap.

Time sped up again. Delgado ran forward, stumbling as he stepped over Harrold to shield the fallen soldier. It only took a second to right himself again, but Isenberg shot a quizzical look at his leg. “Sir, what--?”

Delgado shook him off, grabbing Harrold under the arms and dragging him behind a pile of old tires propped up against the side of one of the buildings. The smell of burning rubber assaulted his nose as another hail of gunfire hit their makeshift barrier.

“GO! GO! GO!” He jerked his whole forearm back and forth, pointing to the west. Away from the rooftop snipers. Isenberg and Ramez took off toward the next building. Delgado swung his weapon around the tire shield and fired again and again, his hands burning as they clutched his weapon. His mind went blank. All he could do was pull the trigger. And howl.

Black cloaked figures came at him from every direction, RPGs exploded yards from where he stood. But Angel didn’t leave Alabama’s side. He just continued to fire. In the name of Johnny Goddamned Chang.

Then his leg gave out.

It felt like someone had pulled the ground out from under one side of him. He staggered, favoring his left side. His shoulder slammed against the broken stone wall.

A quick glance down confirmed his worst fear—he hadn’t been hit. No bullet, no RPG, not even a stray piece of rubble had caused this.

Mind over matter, soldier. There’s nothing wrong with you.

Delgado’s hands stiffened around his weapon, sharp, pointed pain stabbing through his right palm like he was gripping a handful of needles. He tried to stand upright again, but the damn leg buckled like a puppeteer had jerked on its string. His gun slipped out of his grasp, and he fumbled clumsily for it, only to watch it clatter to the ground.

Oh, hell no. He’d thought he’d had more time. He’d thought he could make more time, through sheer force of will. And now Alabama was going to die because of that effed-up miscalculation.

He crumpled to his knees, stared into the bewildered, pain-racked face of one of the men he'd served with, eaten with, fought beside, for the past year. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black-hooded shadow slip around the corner. It moved toward them.

Delgado lurched toward his weapon, a loud, guttural cry escaping from the depths of his lungs. He fell chest-first onto the hard, packed sand, his body armor slamming into his ribcage. Dust filled his mouth, got in his eyes. His left hand closed on the barrel of his M4A1.

He heard the insurgent behind him lock and load.

Even as he swung his weapon around, he knew it was too late.

On his back, weapon at the ready in the wrong hand as his useless right leg refused to cooperate, Private Angel Delgado looked into the dark, burning eyes of the man who was about to kill them.

And he let one name fill his mind and wash over him like rain—the one he’d had to keep in a mental box since the firefight started.

Darcy.

* Here's a question for which there's no right or wrong answer (seeing as you all can't see what's in my head at the moment): What do you think caused Angel's leg to give out?

16 Random Factoids About Me

2009-01-10T13:11:00.001-08:00

**************************
If you're looking for the Chica Lit New Year's Blog Tour, some of the blogs had an error in the list. You'll want to visit L.M. Gonzalez's site at www.myspace.com/lesmora. I'll be up tomorrow, so be sure to check back then!
**************************

My friend Miriam tagged me with a request to write down 16 random factoids about myself. It's like those surveys you get in the mail--I can't stop myself from doing these things. So if you're tagged and feel so inclined, write down 16 random factoids about YOURSELF, then tag 16 friends--including me so I can read them. (My friends are tagged via Facebook, FYI.) Have fun!

1) People who talk about themselves in the third person make me want to shove a metal bucket on their heads and clang it with a spoon until they stop.

2) I have a Master’s degree in English lit with distinction from Boston College. And I write category romance novels. Somewhere, someone probably has a “Slacker Alumni” list in their hands with me in the number one position.

3) I have a little scar on my forehead that obliterated my widow’s peak from an incident when I was four years old, standing on a table, and belting out Cher’s “Half-Breed” at the top of my little lungs. I fell off said table and hit my head on one of those ancient coiled metal radiators. It’s the one and only time I’ve ever had stitches.

4) Just this week, I called my daughter Maggie “Chuck” for most of the day at her insistence. I also congratulated her a few weeks ago on her marriage to her bedroom curtain, which she calls "my little curtain."

5) I LOVE adventure video games, and am anxiously awaiting the third and presumably final segment in the Longest Journey/Dreamfall series.

6) I love Longest Journey so much, I contemplated moving to Oslo, Norway and applying for a game writer job with Funcom so I could work on the creators’ next adventure game.

7) Although I love the South, I can’t stand living in Florida. I put this down to a combination of scorpions in my house and weird, ubiquitous “grass” that feels like rows of blunt razor blades under your feet.

8) After researching search and rescue foot trackers for Finding His Child, I nearly chucked it all to go train to become a tracker.

9) After researching FBI agents for Maximum Security, I nearly chucked it all to apply to the FBI academy. I was wicked devastated when I turned 36 and realized this option was no longer available to me unless I suddenly picked up flawless Arabic/Farsi/or other Middle Eastern language.

10) I worshipped Wonder Woman and the Bionic Woman as a kid. Lindsay Wagner was in my office once when I worked in Washington state, but I didn’t know it until she left, so I only saw the back of her head and did not worship it. This is probably a good thing for Lindsay, as there would have been some serious fan-girling going on, otherwise.

11) I have a rather serious book-buying addiction.

12) I just bought HD Tivo today and am ridiculously excited about it.

13) I became a somewhat shrill and militant feminist at the age of 7, after my third-grade teacher introduced me to the biography section of the library and I read a succession of bios of several Suffragettes.

14) I think The Suffragettes would make a fabulous band name.

15) Though I might be too old for it, I love and adore and refuse to part with my Janis Joplin T-shirt.

16) When I have laryngitis, my favorite thing to do is belt out "Piece of My Heart" until I lose my voice completely, because it's the only time I remotely sound like the late, great Janis.

Anyone else want to play? Consider yourself tagged!

Things I'd Like to Forget, 2008 Edition

2009-01-06T09:23:00.000-08:00

Ariana Huffington just posted her annual list of things she'd like to forget from 2008 on the Huffington Post. And once again, I thought it was such a spiffy idea, I decided to do my own version (though with much more vapid pop culture content and an attempt at bipartisan political content, out of respect for the fact that I have no clue what the political bents are of the three or four people out there who actually read this blog).

Without further ado and in honor of a new year and a fresh start, here are the things I’d like to forget from last year:

• The aftermath of talented Heath Ledger’s death. Here’s a free clue for everyone out there: When you find your employer unconscious on the floor, for the love of all that is holy, the first person you call should probably be first responders and NOT a random Olsen twin.

• “You can actually see Russia from an island in Alaska.”

• The Hollywood writers’ strike. Seriously, people, paying your writers their fair share should be a no-brainer.

• That the Hollywood writers’ strike almost killed Reaper, one of the smartest, funniest shows on television. And let me just say that it returns as a mid-season replacement on March 17, so please watch it. I’m begging you. I don’t think I can take another Firefly.

• The Anne Hathaway/Steve Carrell and Jim Carrey/Zooey Deschanel makeout sessions in Get Smart and Yes Man, respectively. Eeeeeuw. Harrison Ford can get away with macking on a woman a third of his age. You two gentlement, however, cannot. And yes, Jim Carrey, I know you are wonderful to Jenny McCarthy’s son with autism, which gives you major nice-guy cred but still doesn’t make that scene in your film any less creeptacular.

• The proliferation of extremists calling Democrats “Socialists” and “Communists.” Because, of course, anyone who voted Democrat in the last election obviously wants to give her house to the government and go stand in a bread line. :::mental forehead smack:::
Despite our differences of opinion, I have no doubt that most of us vote the way we do because we want to help create a better world for ourselves and our children. It’s time to inject a little bit of civility back into the elections and stop the ignorant name-calling. On both sides.

• Starting with forgetting about Minnesota Rep. Michele Bachman’s frightening appeal to a new McCarthyism during the 2008 election. “I wish the American media would take a great look at the views of the people in Congress and find out, are they pro-America or anti-America?” Seriously?

• The fact that Bachman won. They can’t redraw that crazy harpy’s district fast enough.

• Everything about John Edwards, from his $400 haircuts, to his conscienceless Playboy-bunny-gone-to-seed mistress, to his cheating on his warm and loving wife who stumped for this pathetic excuse for a human being while DYING of cancer. All of the above earn you the Asshat of the Year Award. And then you are dead to me.

• That Katrina survivors were (and probably still are) living in FEMA trailers well known to be offgassing poisonous formaldehyde.

• Illinois Governor Blagojevich. You, Sir, are the very definition of a sleazeball.

• That Joss Whedon’s new show features Eliza Dushku, who acts about as well as a wilted piece of lettuce. With an egg-shaped head. Ay.

• George Lucas’s apparent determination to crush his cinematic legacy into utter ruin—this time, by employing Shia LeBeouf and a few poorly placed CGI monkeys in the much-beloved Indiana Jones series. Oh, and that whole alien thing.

• That Jolie sociopath.

• OK, I tried to move on, but I can’t let this one go. The Marion Ravenwood we all met in Raiders of the Lost Ark would have kicked Indiana Jones’ boot-ay for burning down her tavern, dropping off the planet for 20 years, and leaving her a single mom in the pre-feminist 30s, 40s, and 50s, where she would have been an automatic social pariah. With all of that emotional baggage, she would NOT have morphed into a grinning Stepford moron right after he threw her a measly bone by calling her “Honey” and DIDN’T APOLOGIZE. Profusely and repeatedly, and at great, verbally self-flagellating length. I think SOMEONE needs a romance writer on his Lucasfilm story development team.
And though it didn’t happen in 2008, Leia’s mother—as in Princess Leia, the gun-toting, self-sacrificing, whipsmart, stoic feminist icon of 1976—would never have “lost the will to live” with two small babies who needed her to protect them from their insane father. Watched Revenge of the Sith the other day with my daughters, and despite all the mental preparation of knowing the ending in advance, still wound up shrieking, “YOU'RE LEIA'S MOTHER! GET UP, you pantywaist!” at the dying Padme on my television set.

• McCain-Palin rally crowds calling out “Terrorist!” and “Kill him!” whenever the candidates made reference to Obama. If you can’t beat the guy on policy or popularity, let’s just call for a good, old-fashioned lynching. Niiiiiice.

• I’ll echo Ariana Huffington on this one: the “thrill” going up Chris Matthews’ leg during his MSNBC election coverage. Ick.

• That Silda Spitzer stood by her man during that painful-to-watch “I slept with a hooker” press conference, instead of smacking him upside the head with a frying pan for all the world to see and telling him to take his undoubtedly herpe-ridden self off her planet.

• Still trying to forget Ann Coulter’s special brand of crazy. Still unsuccessful at it.

• Every creepy picture of Miley Cyrus in existence. With or without her likely felonious boyfriend. Eeeeuw.

• That ridiculous Vanity Fair cover of the Obamas in terrorist gear doing a fist-bump. Yes, I understand it was meant to be satire. Next time, give it a title and make it more obvious for the racist mouthbreathers out there.

• All the racist mouthbreathers out there.

• Especially the guy who said to me when discussing why he didn’t vote, “I didn’t think I was a racist, BUT….”

• The fact that it would have been illegal to hit said guy over the head with a frying pan, so I had to settle for a snarky comeback.

• Joe the plumber—just because through no fault of his own he was as overexposed as those dingbats in the Playboy mansion.

• That we never got to see Tim Russert cover the 2008 presidential election.

• Jennifer Love Spewitt insisting that she was a size two in these photos. First of all, honey, you are no size two in those. You are not fat, but you are not a size two.
Second of all, your desperate grab for media attention by claiming to be a size two (ha.) FEMINIST who is just trying to fight against the “scrutiny of women’s bodies” probably did more harm to impressionable girls with borderline eating disorders across the US than the media idiots who called your most-likely size 8 body “fat.” Now instead of AIMING for a size two or four, these girls mistakenly think they will be deemed gelatinous cows at that miniscule size and are most likely shooting for size double-zeros. Nice job, vapid fame ho.

• That Carrie Underwood was considered fat when she was a size six and hailed for losing enough weight to be a (legitimate) size two. Seriously, people, it’s time to lay off the double zeroes, ones, and twos and start eating something for lunch other than a glass of water and a toothpick. This is getting insane.

• Prop. 8 being voted in in California. Prop. 2 in Florida, sad and intolerant, but kind of expected. Prop. 8—awful and infuriating!

• My stomach-still stretched out from my last pregnancy despite Pilates and crunches, and looking like someone smacked a ball of pizza dough on it. Oh, waist, how I miss you.

• Robert Pattinson’s apparent refusal to wash his hair when he’s not on set. Maybe instead of throwing spray paint or cream pies at him, someone can attack him with a bottle of Suave when he’s not looking.

• Iggy Pop shirtless at the 2008 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony. My eyes! They burn!

• Sarah Jessica Parker’s weird little taxidermified-peacock hat at the Sex and the City premiere. Gutsy, but … no.

• Amy Winehouse having emphysema in her 20s.

• That each one of Suri Cruise’s dresses probably costs more than my annual salary.

• That my retirement accounts now contain less than I’ve put into them over the past decade-plus. I can’t even stand to think about my close-to-retirement parents’ accounts.

• Another Huffington echo: Alan Greenspan’s shock at the economic meltdown. Seriously, dude, of all people to be “shocked….”

• That stupid guy down the street who still drives a Hummer. YOU DO NOT LIVE IN OUTER MONGOLIA! THERE IS NO NEED FOR AN OFF-ROAD VEHICLE THAT GETS FOUR MILES PER GALLON WHEN THE STATE YOU LIVE IN IS FLAT AND HAS A NICE HIGHWAY AND ROAD SYSTEM!

• That the NASA and university models showing how fast global warming is progressing didn’t take into account carbon releases from melting permafrost and so we’re in more serious shape than we thought. Scared. Thinking about pop culture again, stat.

• That China had a “pretty” girl lip-synch at the Olympic Opening Ceremonies because the girl who could actually sing was deemed ugly.

• That Dana Torres is four years older than I am and has zero body fat. (Major props to her for the silver medal, though!)

• My stomach, because it’s so annoying, it deserves a second mention.

• Election recounts. Whether they turn out the way I personally want them to or not, they're just stressful.

• That women still make 77 cents per every dollar a man makes doing the same job. (The need for feminism is over, my big, Latina booty.) Tell Congress to pass the Lily Ledbetter Fair Pay Act and the Paycheck Fairness Act today! http://www.momsrisingaction.org/o/1768/campaign.jsp?campaign_KEY=26382

• Pulling my daughters’ newborn feety pajamas out of a drawer last fall and feeling that pang in my heart when I realized how fast they’re growing. Trying not to think about how soon it's going to be before they're past the little-and-cuddly stage….

Anything you’d like to forget?

New Year's Chica Lit Blog Tour!

2009-01-04T06:13:00.000-08:00

Wow, I am really remiss in posting this, but we're running another Chica Lit blog tour in honor of the new year. There will be stories, excerpts, and PRIZES. Visit each author on her given day, read her entry and also instructions on how to be entered to win that day's prize. Then follow the link the next day to the next author's story, and do it all over again!

Here's the line-up:

Jan. 01: Misa Ramirez
http://chasingheroes.com

Jan. 02: Jamie Martinez Wood
http://jamiemartinezwood.blogspot.com/

Jan. 03: Julia Amante
http://juliaamante.blogspot.com

Jan. 04: Berta Platas
http://www.bertaplatas.blogspot.com/

Jan. 05: Mary Castillo
http://marycastillo.blogspot.com/

Jan. 06: Alisa Valdes Rodriguez
http://alisavaldesrodriguez.blogspot.com/

Jan. 07: Margo Candela
http://margocandela.blogspot.com/

Jan. 08: Caridad Ferrer
http://fashionista-35.livejournal.com/

Jan. 09: Gabriella Hewitt
http://www.gabriellahewitt.com/blog/index.php

Jan. 10: L.M. Gonzalez
www.myspace.com/lesmora

Jan. 11: Tracy Montoya
http://tracymontoya.blogspot.com/

'Twas the Night Before an Intrigue Christmas

2008-12-19T08:33:00.000-08:00

OK, so it's actually several nights before Christmas, but since I'll be in Minnesota scarfing down my grandma's Christmas bread on the 24th, I'm subjecting you to my poetry today.

Yes, poetry.

Let me warn you all, I am, quite possibly, the world’s worst poet. It pains me greatly that one of my "poems" actually appeared in my college literary magazine in all it’s bitter, purple, deep-and-misunderstood glory. Copies of it are still Out There, and sometimes I imagine my old classmates digging copies of it out of dusty old boxes, then turning in my direction and pointing and laughing. Hard.

But even terrible poets have their moments sometimes. To help us get into the holiday spirit, I’m sharing a poem I wrote several years ago that isn't all bad, with major assistance from and major apologies to the late Clement Moore.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

’Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house,
Not a page got written;
Didn’t even touch my mouse.

My journal was placed
By the table with care,
But I don’t care to open it,
So it’s just sitting there.

My opening is weak,
My love scene is sap,
So instead of revising,
I’m taking a nap.

When out by my mailbox
There arose such a clatter,
I turned off Oprah
And rose to see what was the matter.

Away to the doorway
I flew in a flash,
Jammed a cap on my bedhead and called,
"I’m sorry! I’ll give you cash!"

The mailman was sitting
In the new-fallen snow,
My dog Zelda chewing on his ankle,
While he shrieked, "Dear God, no!"

When what to my wondering
Eyes should appear,
But a letter from Harlequin
About my proposal so dear.

And the papers inside
Made it thin and not thick;
I knew in a moment
It would make me quite sick.

The rejection, more rapid than eagles it came,
And I screamed, and I stomped,
And called the editor a bad name.

"Darn opening lines! Darn characters!
Darn plots I keep fixin’!
Blast scene-and-sequel! Darn fonts!
Oh, that editor is a vixen!

"To the top of the stairs!
Throw my computer from the wall!
Shred my manuscript, toss my journal,
Kick my monitor down the hall!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the housetop in my bathrobe I flew,
With my hard drive, my printer, and my new scanner, too.

And then in a twinkling,
They all bounced off the roof,
And landed on the ground
In a sad little poof.

As I came down the stairs
And was turning around,
Down the sidewalk little Zelda
Came with a bound.

With snow in her fur,
From her head to her foot,
And my letter in her mouth
Covered with doggie drool and soot.

The mailman in haste
Had flung on his pack,
And was running in terror
Without looking back.

Zelda’s eyes, how they twinkled!
Her fangs grinning, how merry!
I took the envelope from her mouth,
And she went to chew on my neighbor Terry.

I unfolded the letter,
Read the contents below,
And my face must’ve looked
Just as white as the snow.

"Dear Tracy," I read as I gritted my teeth.
"How I loved your proposal!
The book to us you must bequeath!

"Your three chapters were perfect,
Your synopsis better than the telly.
I would rather read your book
Than eat chocolate, peanut butter, or jelly."

My novel was gone,
The disks thrown off the shelf.
And I laughed bitterly at my new junk pile,
In spite of myself.

I spoke not a word,
But went straight to my work,
And swept up the pieces
While calling myself a jerk.

And keeping keeping my eyes
Focused firmly on my toes,
I tried to keep from crying
And blowing my nose.

I trudged up the porch steps,
To Zelda gave a whistle,
And she ran to me,
With a disk in her mouth, like a missile.

I exclaimed and I clapped
When the label was in sight. ...

It was the last copy of my novel.
And the disk was all right.

Best. Christmas Carols. Ever (2008 version)

2008-12-15T16:51:00.001-08:00

As evidenced by my last entry, my brother Tom and I have made an annual tradition of raging over bad holiday music in the blogosphere. But to prove to Holly Jacobs and others that we aren't actually sarcastic Scrooges and do secretly love Christmas music, we also post our favorites.

Long story short, here are some of our favorite Christmas carols that haven't appeared on previous lists!:

TOM: My first pick is “The Christmas Waltz” by Frank Sinatra. This one makes me think of my grandparents. I can picture them dancing to this song in their youth and it gives me a nostalgic feeling.

TRACY: Actually, they tend to polka more than waltz. At least, before poor Grandma’s knees went. But I know what you mean.

My new Christmas carol love is “Lechon, Lechon, Lechon” by Victor Manuelle, which was a free iTunes download last year. Funny story: I burned this on a CD for a vegetarian friend of mine before I bothered to figure out what a “lechon” was. It's not a word that I've heard before--who knows if it's even used in Honduras? (Actually, Mom would know, but I'm too lazy to call her.) Ergo, I didn’t know it.

Anyhoo, Manuelle is singing about a traditional dish they make every holiday season. I assumed the root was “leche,” Spanish for “milk,” and figured that it might be similar to these homemade caramel things my husband’s mom makes from Cuba.

Unfortunately, “lechon” is roast pork, so this is not a vegetarian-friendly song. I’m hoping she never looks it up. But for all you carnivores out there, it’s a really fun salsa song with an infectious beat! Because everyone’s holiday needs a little Latino flavor!

TOM: In that spirit, how about “Aquellos Diciembres?” This is a Spanish song about the past Decembers.

TRACY: Hence you have the added bonus of not offending PETA and having them come after your iPod with a can of spray paint! Excellent!

TOM: This brings out the Latino in me and is a fun upbeat song. It is on iTunes, but without most of the verses. Usually, I have to settle to listening to an old record that our parents have at home. If anyone out there has a good digital copy, please pass it along!

TRACY: YES! Tom and I picked this up on a trip to visit our family in Honduras when I was 9 and he was 5. It’s old, but it holds up. I dare you to not start dancing when the conga drums kick in!

One more Latin entry—"Ay, Ay, Ay, It’s Christmas” by Ricky Martin. For some awful, awful reason, the only version that’s available on iTunes also features Rosie O’Donnell bleating in the background. I don’t mind Rosie, but girlfriend. You cannot sing. It is time to face that fact and let GOOOOOOOOO of your musical aspirations. I’m convinced her habit of randomly breaking out into showtunes is what really killed her show.

But even Rosie cannot ruin the wonderfulness that is this song. Sweet, charming, romantic, and totally danceable. Christmas music doesn’t get much better than this!

TOM: “Sleigh Ride” by Barenaked Ladies. I can pictures my brother, sister, and I singinig this in the back of our parents car, annoying the heck out of them when we were younger. So fun!

TRACY: Annoying Mom is always fun!

New kid-friendly discovery—“Frosty the Snowman” by Kimberly Locke. I’m not a huge Kimberly Locke fan—I think she always sounds like she’s about to kick your ass when she sings. “You can be my Eighth World Wonder! And then I’ll kick your ass!”

But I have to say, she added a bunch of charm and a dash of old-school soul into this holiday classic. My daughters love Frosty—the show, the song, the rewindable preview on Tivo—and so I am heartily sick of Jimmy Durante’s version. It was a blessed relief to discover this on Sirius while driving the other day. The girls loved it and immediately made me download it when we got home, and I’m glad I did!

TOM: "Veni Veni," by Manheim Steamroller. This is a song directed by John Rutter, who by the way directed me in my performace at Carnegie Hall. (okay - I was part of a mass choir, but I had to throw that in!) I like it because he puts together Gregorian Chant with handbells and makes a cool haunting sound. Anyway, it is a great song--music and vocal.

TRACY: People are SO going to make fun of us for liking Manheim Steamroller. You do know that, right?

Anyhoo, seeing how we verbally decimated Boney M. for reggae-tizing Christmas songs in our list of holiday worsts, I thought I’d offer up “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” by Alana Davis as an example of how to add a dash of reggae to a carol and do it right. I ADORE singer/songwriter Alana Davis, and I really admire her flair for covering songs in ways that are always wholly original and a lot of fun. She put her own spin on “Don’t Fear the Reaper” and “32 Flavors,” and they are just genius. Her one Christmas song in existence is no exception to this rule. Brilliant!

TOM: "Here comes Santa Claus," by Elvis. I love this! I always get caught imitating the King when this comes on. You don't sing "Here comes Santa Claus." You sing "HerecomeSanClaus."

TRACY: Oh, and I know you like haunting holiday music. Have you heard Alison Krauss and Yo-Yo Ma’s “Wexford Carol?” BEST! VERSION! EVAH! Krauss puts her trademark bluegrass spin on this classic, and accompanied by Yo-Yo Ma’s so-beautiful-you-want-to-cry strings, it’s absolute perfection. I’m burning it to a CD right now and popping it in the mail.

TOM: "Caroling, Caroling," by Nat King Cole. I am a big Nat King Cole fan and love a lot of his Christmas songs.

TRACY: Me, too!

TOM: This one makes you want to go skipping through the snow. Then, you realize that you live in Minnesota and that it is 20 below out and it will take you 20 minutes to get dressed properly and then you can't skip because of the sheer volume of clothing that you have on! On a tangent--if you live in a cold area, try this trick. If it is 0 degrees or below 0, heat a mug of water in the microwave (boiling)--quickly race to the door and through the water into the air outside. You will get a cool reaction when the water hits the outside temperature!

TRACY: What does it do? COME ON, you have to tell me what it does?!

I LOVE Loreena McKennitt, who started out as a Celtic musician and then let her world travels influence her music so now it’s a hybrid of Celtic, Arabic, and other styles from across the globe. She FINALLY put out a full-length holiday CD this year, and it’s five-hundred kinds of gorgeous. If I had to pick just a couple, they would be “Snow” and “The Seven Rejoices of Mary.”

TOM: "A Marshmellow World (Live)," by Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. I had to sing this in choir in high school and HATED it. But, listening to these 2 guys do it is fun! Plus, the live version contain the audience laughing (at who knows what) Frank calling Dean a Pumpkinhead, and of course both of them improvising. Too bad that we will never see specials with moments like this ever again. You will never have 2 big name stars do anything like this. Instead, you might get Paris Hilton and Trischelle.

TRACY: Clannad lead-singer Maire Brennan (who recently changed her name to “Moya” Brennan for all the people out there who used to pronounce her Gaelic name “mare.” Like, oh, ME.) released a solo Christmas album last year, and I have to say, her version of “Carol of the Bells” is probably the most brilliant version I’ve ever heard. Most people who try to put this song to words just end up sounding like dumbasses. “Ding! Dong! Christmas is here! Ring! Ring!” YOU ARE NOT A BELL! QUIT ACTING LIKE IT BEFORE SOMEONE HAS YOU COMMITTED!

But Moya/Maire avoids the pitfall of the ringy-ding-dings and just riffs on the “Christmas is here” part and a lot of Celtic zhoosh. The result—pure gorgeousness.

TOM: "Silent Night," by Joe Piscapo as Frank Sinatra on SNL. Okay - not a classic but a funny moment. My favorite line is: "Round that virgin chick, she had a kid...."

TRACY AND TOM: "He grew up to be famous. You all know what he did!"

TOM: This takes place on the Gumby Christmas special with eddie murphy as Gumby dammit. This reminds me that I have too many holiday things to watch on blu-ray and dvd before the year ends!

TRACY: Just heard Tracy Chapman's "O, Holy Night" on the radio while I was driving to pick up the kids from school. Josh Groban and Faith Hill, meet Tracy Chapman. And then cry, because you so suck in comparison.

TOM: A final comment: I find a lot of good Christmas songs come in small bites. Sirius/XM has been playing some piano and other instrumental transitions in between songs. Very soothing and good musically. they always end so fast (only about 15 seconds) and they get me wanting more. It also reminds me of SNL when the band would play Christmas Carols going into commercials. One that I remember is "Good King Wenceslaus" being played on a sousaphone. So cool!

TRACY: Yeah, Manheim Steamroller AND "Good King Wenceslaus" on a sousaphone? People are SO going to point and laugh at us after this one. Especially after the sarcastic attack we had in the last post.

Anyway, happy holidays, everyone! For those of you who celebrate Christmas, any new Christmas carols y'all are loving this year? Or old favorites?

Worst. Christmas Carols. Ever. 2008 Edition

2008-12-12T04:31:00.000-08:00

As any longtime readers of this blog (the most sporadic blog in the universe--sorry about that) are aware, mybrother Tom gets worked up about exactly four things: Pearl Jam, Star Wars, any Minnesota sports team, and whatever Christmas carols are on rotation on Sirius satellite radio. As I noted in our "Hall of Shame" post on the Intrigue Authors blog a couple of days ago, controversy has come and gone in his home state of Minnesota—home to the Larry Craig bathroom scandal, former WWE wrestler Jesse (the Body) Ventura turned Jesse (the Governor) Ventura, the Franken-Coleman recount, and so on. Does Tom get worked up about any of that? No. Tom gets worked up over one too many rounds of "Santa Baby" while he's driving.

So, to provide an outlet for his fury, we've made an annual tradition of blogging about those Christmas carols on Sirius that make us insane. Enjoy this year's version. (To see past years', click on the "December" posts from years past in the menu at the left, and look for a title about Christmas carols that looks angry.) Enjoy!

TOM: My first pick this year is Extreme, “Christmas Time Again.” I don’t even know where this one came from. I have no clue why Extreme thought that they needed to make a Christmas song. It is dripping with sap, complete with the piano. You guys got one break with “More Than Words,” but this takes it over the top. Since these guys are from Massachusetts, I will give this song a "Wicked Awful." Plus, no matter what anyone says, Gary Cherone was NEVER in Van Halen.

TRACY: Ooooooooh. I hadn’t heard that one yet, so I just went and checked it out on iTunes. Ow. And why do some songwriters automatically think that if the lyrics rhyme, they’re all brilliantly high-brow? This one sounds like a Hallmark “Just How I Feel” card set to music. Can somebody pass the insulin?

“In the morning, I see you smile. It only lasts a little while."

This song I would really like to file. In a great big, nasty, steaming pile….

Extreme, if you want to make a comeback (I know—not bloody likely, but let’s pretend a Christmas miracle is pending.), butchering Christmas music isn’t the way to do it. Ay.

My first pick for the year is Michael Bolton, “Walkin’ in a Winter Wonderland.” Nothing fills me with the urge to drop a CD in my driveway and run it over repeatedly with my car like hearing Michael Bolton’s affected voice squeezing Every! Last! Drop! Of! Drama! from the world’s most beloved holiday carols. This year’s debacle is “Walkin’ in a Winter Wonderland,” with its pseudo-jazz whiny saxophones and those constipated swoops this guy does with his voice.

I loathe Michael Bolton. And this song! This song is so overwrought, it sounds like he’s singing about walkin’ in a winter wonderland with cancer, right after someone killed his puppy and ran off with his girlfriend.

Mr. Bolton, meet Mr. Connick Jr., who so totally SCHOOLS you, you ought to just hang up your sheet music in shame and go sing vacuum cleaner jingles on local access cable. Seriously, stop, dude. Just stop.

TOM: At least we can snicker at the fact that he thought he was relevant again by re-hooking up with Nicolette Sheridan and then realizing that people think that she looks like a man and bailing on that. Moo hoo.

TRACY: Mean! Poor Nicolette Sheridan! On behalf of my brother, I apologize to every woman who ever lived. And aged.

TOM: Next is “O Come O Come Emmanuel” by Enya. Help! I am trapped in Narnia! Either that, or I am in a slow-motion sequence in one of the Lord of the Rings movies.

I feel like I should be scared listening to this. I like haunting Christmas carols, but this one gives me the willies. Plus, Enya sounds like a pump organ in this. Or is that a real pump organ?

TRACY: I like Enya! But I agree, this one is a little on the weird side.

Second for me is “Mary Did You Know?” by anyone. This song is so cloying. But that’s not my biggest beef with it. That would be lyrics like this one: “Mary, did you know that your baby boy is lord of all creation?”

I’m just taking a stab here, but after receiving a prediction from her cousin Elizabeth, a VISIT from an ARCHANGEL, a giant star floating over her head for days on end, three kings visiting her in a freaking stable, and a heavenly choir of cherubim and seraphim singing in the sky shortly after she gave birth, I’m guessing that she does, Captain Obvious.

TOM: Yes! Totally agree! The version by Clay Aiken is especially bad. I don't know if he sings it or not, but Michael W. Smith would also make this a love-to-hate song. I don't want to listen to a Christmas carol from a guy that makes me feel that I am going to hell because I don't thrust my arm up in church and show everyone how hard I pray.

TRACY: But if you thrust your arms up and sway in a church where no one else EVER does that, it means you’re holier than the rest of the heathens surrounding you. Surely you knew that? (Mom is going to kill us for that one, because she'll know exactly who we're talking about. Sorry, Mom!)

TOM: “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” by Jimmy Boyd. An alleged classic …

TRACY: Totally alleged.

TOM: … this song makes me want to stick chopsticks into my ears as far as possible and start scrambling. I am sure (at least I hope) that Jimmy was a young lad when he made this, but he sounds like a cross of a Munchkin, the leprechaun, and that old lady that you used to do yard work for and she would give you two quarters for five hours of work.

Plus, I just hate this song overall. Is mommy having an affair with Santa? Does mommy have some sick ... wait, I will stop there. This is probably a PG site.

TRACY: As I noted last year with “Santa Baby,” sexualizing Santa is just nasty. Plus, you KNOW that child is scarred for life, and that totally kills the holiday spirit.

Hmmmm.

“I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, and It Turned Me Into a Serial Killer.” Has an intriguing (Pun alert!) ring to it. It’d HAVE to be better than the original!

How about “Please Come Home for Christmas” by the Eagles? Probably the single most narcoleptic holiday song in existence today. The relentless rimshot on EVERY fourth beat. The endless funeral dirge of a melody. The sleepy hoarseness of Don Henley’s voice. It all makes me want to—zzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Get this off my car radio before I accidentally lapse into a coma, run off the road, and haplessly plunge into a retention pond. And for all of those die-hard Eagles fans out there, I hate “Hotel California” with the white-hot fiery passion of a thousand suns, too, so feel free to go to the comments and BRING IT.

TOM: Nothing says Christmas like a bunch of guys who hate each other with a white-hot fiery passion singing about Christmas. I think that.zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Oops--I just fell asleep thinking about it.

TRACY: Speaking of funeral dirges, who was the genius who came up with “The 12 Days of Christmas?” I swear, just hearing that relentlessly cheerful holiday-death-march of a song gives me a migraine. Trying to sing it would probably land me in the hospital.

TOM: “You're a Mean One Mr. Grinch” by Manheim Steamroller. I like the original song …

TRACY: Boris Karloff, baby!

TOM: … and I like Manheim Steamroller, but these should not go together. Hey, I like peanut butter and I like chocolate, but they shouldn't ... oh wait.

Anyway, this song to me is the equivalent of dancing on someone's grave--you just don't go there.

TRACY: I feel like I’ve entered Electronica Hell every time I hear it. My three-year-old Marin likes to turn to me whenever she has a slightly controversial action plan in her head (i.e. swan diving off the couch or smacking her sister in the head) and say, “Good idea, or bad idea?”

I would have to say, “BAD IDEA, MANHEIM STEAMROLLER! VERY BAD IDEA!”

Oh, and I can’t forget Bob Seger’s version of “Little Drummer Boy.” I am such a sap that generally, hearing just the first few seconds of “The Little Drummer Boy” is enough to make me choke up and get all farklempt. (“He played his little drum! It was all he had! He did his best! *SOB!*” )

But when I heard Bob Seger’s version the other day, I started to cry for a whole new reason. Absolutely purgatorial.

Seger could give Michael Bolton a few lessons in musical melodrama. “RRRRRRAH-pah-pum-PUUUUUEEEEEUUUUUEEEEEUUUUMMMMM!” At least he added an electric guitar for originality, although that still didn’t save this mess.

Honestly, if Mr. Seger isn’t singing about taking those old records off his shelf, I have no time for him.

TOM: I totally get a great visual of Bob cutting this in the studio in July. He has his arm slightly extended in front of him, hand balled into a fist, eyes closed, neck straining. He finishes the song and there is silence in the room. Bob falls to his knees, the producer rushes in and tells him how touched he was by that. Hork!

Right there the producer should have really said what he thought: “Sorry, Bob, just sing songs about trucking. By the way, I put my pants on the same as you. The only difference is that I make gold records in my pants! You are going to want that cowbell in there!"

TRACY: That, ladies and gentlemen, is an obscure Saturday Night Live reference—the cowbell/Blue Oyster Cult skit featuring Christopher Walken. Tommy and I have a ton of these. In fact, we use them so often as verbal shorthand, I think SNL is our own language of twins. Except we’re not actually twins.

TOM: “Silver Bells” by Kenny G.

TRACY: UGH! Anything by Kenny G.! Is he really playing the saxophone, or did he just figure out how to force an air horn to make music?

TOM: I always think of the good byes on SNL when I hear this song. "I had fun hosting Saturday Night Live! Thanks to the cast! The crew! Special thanks to musical guest No Doubt!"

And Kenny G's hair. Ugh.

TRACY: Total ugh. Tell you what. You grab his saxophone and bury it at sea, and I’ll put a metal bucket on his head and clang it with a spoon until the urge to make “music” and inflict it on the masses leaves him.

TOM: I guess this is good to listen to when I am waiting at the dentist's office or in a 25- person line at the post office to mail boxes to Florida. Good times!

TRACY: Yay! Presents for me! Anyway, next up: Carrie Underwood, “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing.” Actually, it’s HORK, the Herald Angels’ Eardrums Bleed When They Hear You Sing This Song, Carrie Underwood!

Now I like Carrie Underwood. She seems like a very nice girl who isn’t busy flashing the free world or running from bar to bar w ith cocaine goobers in her nose. Great, great voice, too. She wants to sing about dragging her key on the side of some jerk’s pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive, I’m totally there. But her version of this song blows.

In fact, let the record show that any Christmas carol with a country twang just needs to be thrown into a supercollider and spun into protons and electrons that can float freely away.

Christmas carol + country twang = Tracy taking a screwdriver and a tire iron to her radio.

TOM: I am going to say that I like this song because I know that you and our brother Troy hate her. Yes, I voted for her on American Idol and I stick by my pick! You sing, Carrie! You sing and don't let the detractors get to you!

TRACY: I don’t hate her! I just liked Bo Bice better on that particular season of American Idol, but she’s really stepped up her stage presence, which was her biggest weakness back in the day. You just like to brag because you got that Idol winner right, Mr. “But I LIKE Anwar!”

TOM: Boney M., “Mary's Boy Child/Oh My Lord.” This wins the award for Biggest Train Wreck of the Holiday Season. Where do I start with them? First, these guys are from West Germany, but this is a calypso song. What?!

Next, their really lame band name. Are you supposed to wonder if it stands for Boney Maroney or something else? Are they trying to be hip with the shorthand or something? Do I really care?

TRACY: UGH! UGH! I HATE THIS SONG! THE PAIN! THE PAIN! MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!

BTW, they also have another one called “Hooray! Hooray! It’s Holi- Holi-day!” that is perhaps even worse. Not only is it set to a horrifying calypso beat, but then they insert a veritable plethora of “heidi-heidi-hos” in there. Which are both annoying and deeply insulting to anyone named Heidi.

In the name of all that is holy, these people need to be stopped. Where’s Ironman when you need him?

I know I carped about it last year, but this one is so bad, it deserves a repeat: “Dominic the Italian Christmas Donkey” by Lou Monte. It’s been a year since I last heard it, and I have to say, this one still sucks more than any single piece of music in the history of the planet. I dare you to listen to this and not be going “Da-da-dat-dat! HEEEEEEE-awwwwwww! HEEEEEE-awwwwww!” through your nose for the rest of the day.

Not only is this not a productive use of my time, it’s also almost enough to make me run screaming to the doctor to beg for some lobotomizing drug that will make it all go away. This song is the devil.

TOM: I came up with a sequel! Dominic becomes Elmer's Glue! Sorry to my friends in PETA, but I can't handle this.

TRACY: Poor Dominic! He didn’t ask to have an abysmal song dedicated in his honor. How do I know that? Because donkeys can’t talk, that’s how!

TOM: Well, how about Lou Monte becomes Elmer's Glue?

TRACY: I can live with that.

TOM: Finally, I pick the new Christmas Album by Tony Bennett. It is over Tony. You had a great resurgence thanks to Unplugged back in the 90s and parlayed that into some great casino gigs, but now it is time to fade away.

TRACY: HEY! I love Tony Bennett! You can’t do that! Picking on Tony Bennett is sick and wrong!

TOM: Well, I am probably harboring some ill will from the last time I saw him. He was performing in Minneapolis at the sales conference of my previously employer--also known as "The big-box bullseye retailer who must not be named." Anyway, he starts saying "I love this town. Every time I come to this town, I enjoy myself. I love the people, the food. What a great town that you live in." And I wanted to scream "What town is it? Do you know where you are?! Minneapolis! Minneapolis, dammit!”

Where's Padme? Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

TRACY: We are so totally having words when I get up to Minneapolis for Christmas. I was going to let you finish us off, but I’m going to have to pick another trainwreck song, because I can’t let this end by lambasting a LIVING LEGEND who HAPPENS TO BE EIGHTY-TWO and so should be excused for forgetting where he is. At least he remembered the lyrics. And he still sounds awesome.

Anyway, my final picks are:

Bruce Springsteen singing "Santa Claus is Coming to Town." This song just sounds like the Boss is having digestive issues. I'm surprised the E Street Band actually played through this mess without stopping to offer him a Pepto Bismol or at least a cold cloth for his forehead. Honestly, I always think he's about to burst a blood vessel.

And last and least is Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You.” I’m not a big Mariah Carey fan. She acts like the crazy hootchie at the PTA meetings who dresses in skirts with inappropriate hemlines and throws herself at your husband when she thinks you’re not looking. I can’t seem to separate her from her music, so I hate this song.

Yes, I know, it’s #1 on iTunes. You people are all insane.

TOM: This song being number 1 on iTunes reinforces my opinion that people should be more carefully screened before they can drive, vote, and have children.

TRACY: SERIOUSLY!

TOM: Although, she was also one of the top TRL moments of all time for her meltdown. I can put up with the awful Christmas music if we keep getting the train wrecks. Ms. Spears! You are up next!

TRACY: But she had to go and “get better” on us. Sheesh. Although Jayne on eHarlequin just told me Jessica Simpson has a new Christmas album called “Rejoyce.” And as Jayne so brilliantly asked, “Who is Joyce?” I think we’ll have to give it a listen for next year.

Also, JV on eHarlequin sent me this little gem on YouTube, called “I Farted on Santa’s Lap.” Which is so revolting, I think all mall Santas across the country should be given legal permission by the Supreme Court to drop kick any child OFF their laps whose manners are this bad. And then open up a can of Dr. Phil on any parents who condone this sort of behavior with their egregious lack of discipline and refusal to instill consequences for public rudeness. UGH!

There’s also some talk on eHarlequin.com about some kids singing about wanting a hippo for Christmas, but I decided we should save that one until next year, too, because I just can’t take anymore of this.

Until then, may your radio deejays have the wherewithal to not inflict you with these abominations this holiday season!

In a Perfect Universe ...

2008-11-18T13:10:00.000-08:00

In a perfect universe:

1) The shopping cart I pushed at the grocery store today wouldn’t have had chunks of hair stuck in the wheels. Yes, chunks. Of hair. Because I didn’t notice until I was on the far side of the store, and once I did notice, I spent the better half of the morning mentally cataloguing the ways HAIR could get stuck in the wheels of my SHOPPING CART. Needless to say, that is a nasty way to start your day.

2) Intolerant mouthbreathers would not scratch, dent, ding, or key my car just because I have an innocuous little magnet with a presidential candidate’s name on it.

3) The chunks of hair in my shopping cart’s wheels would have come from my repeatedly running over the mouthbreather who scratched the snot out of my car this weekend.

4) Every bookseller I met would be able to recommend a book I’d adore and glom and want to talk incessantly about just as much as Katherine Neville’s The Eight, Donna Tartt’s The Secret History, Audrey Niffenegger's The Time Traveler's Wife, that last Harry Potter book, or Arundhati Roy’s The God of Small Things. Because searching for my next glom fix is getting expensive, people.

5) The words “I don’t like to read” would never cross anyone’s lips. Because yes, I get judgmental. That's probably not fair to you non-readers out there, but there it is. (You know you're a dork when ...)

6) My characters would stop smiling, breathing, and blinking and do something interesting for a change.

7) My energy level would be directly proportionate to my youngest daughters’, no vats of Diet Coke required.

8) I would wake up every morning with a bluebird on my shoulder and chirp, “I can’t wait to outline my new plot!”

9) Publishers wouldn’t publish bad books with great covers, which ultimately cause me to waste gobs of cash to read 25 pages, drop said bad book in my driveway, and run it over. “He touched her hand, and electricity zinged up her arm?” Really? Seriously? That’s the best you could come up with?

10) I would be better about blogging.

11) I would, of course, be queen.

Difficult Questions on the Twilight series

2008-08-25T09:53:00.000-07:00

Caution: spoilers ahead!

Having just read and loved Stephenie Meyer’s entire Twilight series, I dove right into all the blogosphere posts I’ve been avoiding for some time now, about the alleged racism in the books, particularly one by “Latina lit” star Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez. It’s a painful examination on several levels.

First, I was so hooked on these books, I couldn’t put them down—the depth of the characterization, the wildly original twists Meyer put on the vampire and werewolf mythologies, the complex intricacies of that mythology and how it applied to her characters, all so real I almost believed it was all true. I didn’t want to believe that such a gifted author could possibly be racist. And second, I like to think I’m a careful reader of how race, class, culture, and gender interplay in a given story, and I didn’t like that I possibly missed something. Third, Stephenie Meyer has an enormous fan base, and no one likes a flame war that pits you all by your lonesome against an enormous fan base.

My conclusion, FWIW, just because I feel like jabbering today: Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez brings up some important, carefully thought-out points that are well worth discussing. I can’t support all of them, and I won’t cry racism in Meyer’s case until I’m able to crawl into her head and see for myself what she was thinking. But it’s vital that no matter how much we love the books, we have these discussions, rather than silencing the critics.

Valdes-Rodriguez’s first point is that in the love triangle that takes place throughout the story, Bella chooses the pale white vampire (Edward) over the brown, Native American werewolf (Jacob). Meyer has acknowledged that her strong Mormon faith is a large part of who she is and influences how she writes. So Bella’s choice, Valdes-Rodriguez says, may well have been influenced by a passage apparently in the Book of Mormon 2, 5:23, that says God placed “the curse of black skin” upon the Lamanites—also described as “wild, ferocious, plundering, robbing, and murdering people,” according to Valdes-Rodriguez—in order to make them unattractive to the (white) Nephites.

Among the leading black-skinned Lamanites mentioned by name in the Book of Mormon, she says, is Jacob.

Says Valdes-Rodriguez: “No author with the skill that Stephenie Meyer possesses does anything in her books by accident. Therefore, it is safe to assume that the deeply Mormon Meyer did not accidentally name her sinful, dark-skinned boy Jacob Black. Nor did she accidentally have him turn out to be the less desirable of the two monstrous boys vying for Bella’s attentions.”

It’s an interesting and unpleasant point. One of the Janes over at Dear Author responded to this critique by saying she finds Meyer to be a rather “unconscious” writer who hadn’t explored deeper themes in her novels like dark and good sides of wish fulfillment or the removal of free will in the whole werewolf “imprinting” process, so why would she explore the shadier Book of Mormon passages when she hadn’t risen to that level of plotting sophistication before?

I think the Dear Author response is a cop-out. Just because an author doesn’t explore or reveal something in one area of her book doesn’t mean she won’t explore or reveal something different in another. If Meyer really were a deep-seated racist who embraced a couple of troubling passages in the holy book of her faith, you can bet the back of the bus that that facet of herself would rear its ugly head somewhere in her work.

But based on my own reading of the text, I would argue that Jacob is one of the more redeeming, heroic characters in the series. (Yeah, I was firmly on Team Jacob. You’ll see why in a moment.) The villains in the series are never the Quileute werewolves. Throughout the book, I would argue that the “wild, ferocious, plundering, robbing, and murdering” people are the vampires:

• James the tracker, the main villain of book one, is a pale-skinned vampire. He tracks his human victims mercilessly, enjoying the thrill of the hunt, of scaring them to death while he prolongs a chase that must be agony for them. He’s quite simply a sadist and a murderer, with no redeeming qualities.

• His lover Victoria, the villainess of books 2 and 3, also a pale-skinned vampire. Her one redeeming quality—her love of James—is quite spoiled by the fact that she loves a sadistic, cold-blooded killer. She’s hell-bent on vengeance—and has a sadistic streak of her own. Instead of killing Edward for murdering her lover, she sets her sights on Edward’s love, innocent Bella, so he can feel what it’s like to live without her. Word from Victoria's accomplice Laurent is that Victoria intends to kill Bella slowly and painfully.

• The Volturi, the three ancient leaders of the vampire world and their entourage, are pale and chalky vampires. They provide one of the main conflicts in book 2 and are the villains in book 4. They allege that they are good and fair, ruling and meting out justice only to protect the secrecy that must cloak the vampire world for it to survive. However, by the series’ end, we find that the Volturi are entirely Machiavellian—lying, manipulating, and killing just to keep their seat of power. The Cullens are a threat to them, so they look for any excuse they can to

• Even the vampire “witnesses” in Breaking Dawn aren’t wholly good—except for Tanya’s family and the Cullens, they all have red eyes, signifying that they are killing humans and drinking their blood to survive. Even when they have a choice, like the Cullens, to eat a “vegetarian” vampire diet and kill animals instead of people, they all choose not to. Meyer shows them time and again disappearing to hunt, and we all know who they are hunting.

The werewolves, on the other hand, do not kill humans throughout the entire series. They do not “plunder, rob, or murder.” They came into existence solely to protect the Quileute tribe from the murderous vampires, but they voluntarily extend their borders out of La Push to protect the non-Quileute people of Forks, as well. They hold to a treaty that says if the Cullen vampires kill or turn any resident on their lands (including neutral Forks), the peace between them is invalid and they will neutralize (kill) the vampires to protect innocents.

But the werewolves go against their instincts to ally with the vampires—their natural enemies, the ones they were created to destroy—to protect the innocent humans in their territory and beyond in books 2 and 3, when Victoria and the newborns are posing a major threat to them. They don’t like it, but they do it for the greater good.

Jacob Black, in particular, sacrifices much to protect Bella and the Cullens, even when they have hurt him deeply—his mental well-being, his protected identity, even his pack and his right to remain on his homeland with his family and best friends. He rejects his birthright as Alpha for his own sake, but ultimately takes it up, again in an act of self-sacrifice to save Bella’s life and save the Cullens.

We humans tend to value self-sacrifice for others as one of our highest good—it’s what Jesus did on the cross. What our fallen soldiers did and do in wars past and our current wars. We give those soldiers our highest medals of honor when they knowingly throw themselves on a grenade or otherwise put themselves in harm’s way to protect others. It’s what Mother Teresa did when she gave up a life of comfort and riches to live in the slums of Kolkata and serve the poorest of the poor.

And, to give a literary example, it’s what Harry Potter did when he chose to face Voldemort unarmed at the end of book seven, knowing he was going to his death to save his friends and others whom he didn’t know.

The self-sacrificing actions of Meyer’s werewolves, particularly Jacob Black, are not the actions of “wild, ferocious, plundering, robbing, and murdering” Lamanites. And don’t get me started on the adorable, selfless Seth Clearwater, who is constantly throwing himself into danger to save others, vampire, human, and werewolf.

As a species, the werewolves admittedly have an anger management problem when they first change, but on the whole, they tend to be protectors, nearly always putting community and innocent lives first, over their individual needs and personal safety. The vampires? On the whole, they tend to be murderers incapable of meaningful human connections. Those that have the strong self-control to resist the thirst for human blood are the exception to the species, not the rule. (Which is why Bella and Edward’s romantic conflict is strong enough to sustain four books, and why so many have loved their star-crossed romance.) And when the werewolves “imprint,” they love deeply and constantly—what person could ask for more than that in a partner?

Finally, perhaps the biggest argument that the Meyer didn’t intend the Quileute werewolves to represent inferior “Lamanites” is this: Valdes-Rodriguez posits her argument that Meyer is racist on Bella’s choice—pale, white Edward over brown-skinned Jacob. But once Bella is turned into a vampire herself, she has another important, telling choice.

You can tell by reading the last half of Breaking Dawn that Meyer is herself a mother. Only a mother could convincingly capture the sheer, bewildering, all-consuming intensity in how a mother loves her child. Bella proves on several occasions that she’ll die for Renesmee—as so many mothers would for their own children. So when Jacob imprints on Renesmee, Bella knows beyond a doubt that she has to share Renesmee with Jacob—even during the precious early years where a toddler’s greatest love is generally mama. And someday, when Renesmee is of age, it’s Jacob who is going to marry her and perhaps have children with her. Such is the nature of imprinting.

So if Bella (and Meyer by extension, because those are the rules Valdes-Rodriguez laid out) really believed that Jacob was inferior, would she entrust the most precious thing in her life to him? Wouldn’t she rather take Renesmee’s place? (It would have required some interesting machinations on Meyer’s part to reverse werewolf imprinting, but it’s her universe, so she could have done it!) Or, given that Bella has the unbeatable (though temporary) strength of a newborn vampire and the excuse of her volatile newborn instincts, she could kill him to break the imprinting bond. Wouldn’t that have been preferable if she really believed that letting him live would allow her little girl to be taken by a “wild, ferocious, plundering, robbing, and murdering” Lamanite-equivalent?

But Bella doesn’t kill Jacob. And in the end, when Renesmee’s life is on the line, she faces her own death and chooses, with gratitude and love, to put her beloved daughter in Jacob’s hands, knowing he will love her deeply and constantly (and appropriately for her age, fortunately), knowing he will willingly sacrifice himself to keep her safe. And when you make a choice as you’re facing death, it’s your deepest, truest self making that choice.

Valdes-Rodriguez also points out how the “hapless, human boy” who adores Bella but doesn’t stand a chance is named Mike Newton. “As in science,” she says.

I’m assuming that she’s referring to the warring Creation vs. Evolution arguments that have taken place since Darwin first went public with his theories.

I’m no expert on Mormon faith—and Valdes-Rodriguez admits she’s not either, though she’s currently reading the Book of Mormon to better understand the religion. But there’s a great debate here where a professor at Brigham Young University and 19 supporters write that Mormonism and creationism are incompatible and that “Mormon literature has long taught that God works through natural laws, and that the study of those laws is the study of divine handiwork.”

So, um, no problem with science there. From what I can tell, the Church has no official position, and conflicting statements have been released by Mormon faith leaders throughout its history. The more modern statements tend to abstain from joining the argument at all, or lean toward the idea that it’s just dandy to believe in evolution, and we won’t ever know completely the ways of God until we die and God answers our questions.

I’m Catholic. Doesn’t mean I still believe the sun revolves around the Earth. I think placing an anti-evolution/anti-science judgment on the books is too much to rest on poor Mike Newton’s shoulders.

And Valdes-Rodriguez’s final argument,

Also of significance: In the movie, as with the book, the most evil of the vampires (the ones who are enemies to the white Edward) is dark Laurent. Unlike Edward and the white vampires, he is unable to resist hunting and draining humans.

In a follow-up, Valdes-Rodriguez admits that she got this one slightly wrong—the most evil vampire in Twilight is James, who is pale white in the book and pale white in the film. Laurent starts out all right--he abstains from conflict in book 1 and runs to Tanya’s clan in the north, a peaceable, vegetarian-vampire family like the Cullens.

Meyer describes Laurent as “olive-toned” with black hair. In the film, he’s played by Black actor Edi Gathegi. In book 2, he takes a turn for the worse, returning to help evil Victoria take her vengeance on Edward by killing innocent Bella. He tries to kill Bella himself when he finds her alone in the forest, because he’s thirsty. He comforts her by telling her he won't make it painful, like Victoria would, because he's just satifying his thirst for blood.

It doesn’t make him much different from the other red-eyed vampires in the series, pale white or not. So I have no issues with Laurent.

Valdes-Rodriguez does point out that there aren’t many vampires of color in the books, and I admit, it would have been nice to see more, given that these are the characters who come from around the world. Laurent does seem to be the first, and he’s not so great. But unlike pale white James or Victoria, he tries, for a time, to be a “good” vampire, before giving in to his baser vampire nature.

Then we mostly have white vampires, good and bad, until Carmen, presumably a Spanish-speaking Latina, shows up in Breaking Dawn. Carmen is part of Tanya’s clan of “good” vampires and comes to Forks to witness on behalf of Renesmee and the Cullens. She forms a strong bond with Renesmee, but we don’t see all that much of her.

We also have dark-skinned Amazonian vampires Senna and Zafrina, who show up in buckskins looking “wild” and “ferocious” and at first frighten Bella with their savage look. You could argue that these two fit the much-hated “noble savage” stereotype of old, with their wild, unpredictable jungle manners. But then you could also argue that Zafrina ends up being one of the most powerful on Bella’s side, with her ability to blind her enemies and make them see whatever she wants them to see. And it's Zafrina and Senna's kin who save the day, producing their own half-vampire for the Volturi to prove Renesmee is no danger.

And you have the Egyptian vampires Amun and Kebi, who seem to have a very stereotypical Middle-Eastern relationship, where Amun is very controlling and angry, and Kebi is his timid, cowering yes-woman. But also in their coven are Benjamin and Tia, who relate as equals. Benjamin is as powerful as Zafrina, able to bend the four natural elements to his will. Is that enough to negate the Amun-Kebi stereotype?

I don’t remember any Black vampires or characters (I did imagine Laurent to be Black while reading and was surprised to learn that Meyer was kind of vague on the subject in Eclipse), which can be seen as a slight in itself. I think that fact is largely what set her up for the racist argument, like Valdes-Rodriguez's.

Also, there was one non-vampiric character who did stand out for me—a mestiza named Kaure, who was part Ticuna. Kaure starts out as your typical, sign-of-the-crossing Latina housekeeper (cleaning after Edward and Bella on their honeymoon on Isle Esme), which, I’ll admit, had my eyes rolling. But Edward admits that she knows what he is, when others don’t, turning her stereotypical superstition into clear, accomplished insight. And more importantly, even though she believes Edward kills humans for sustenance, she stands up to him, demanding to know where human Bella is—even though she can’t possibly win that confrontation. Again, we see a character putting her life on the line to protect another.

Valdes-Rodriguez also briefly brings up how Bella’s teen marriage and teen pregnancy doesn’t exactly send a terrific message. It doesn’t, I agree, and I think we’ll be arguing those points for as long as the books are read. I’ve yammered on enough and won’t go into them here.

But on the question of whether Meyer is racist, I would argue that she did her best to create well-rounded, three-dimensional, wholly human characters. I don’t think Jacob Black or any of the dark-skinned characters are a substitute for the savage, cursed “Lamanites” that show up in the more disturbing passages of the Book of Mormon. And admittedly not knowing much about the Mormon faith, I want to give Mormon congregations everywhere the benefit of the doubt and believe that the majority reject those particular teachings—or, at least, are working within themselves to reject them.

So yeah, until I can crawl into Stephenie Meyer’s head and figure out exactly what she was thinking, I don’t think there’s enough evidence to point at her and cry racist. I do think she tackled the issue of Otherness with the vampire vs. werewolf cold war and its resolution, the vampires' murderous mistrust of half-breed Renesmee, the vampire's struggle--or not--over their "right" (or not) to kill humans for sustenance. Tolerance.org said this about the Harry Potter series, which I think applies to the Twilight series, as well: "Psychologically, children's literature equips young people to cope with complex questions and negotiate difficult issues that might otherwise overwhelm them. The obvious, and highly imaginative, cultural differences that pop icon Harry Potter presents offer the opportunity to discuss other-ness with children."

That said, there are plenty of books and media out there that do have racist underpinnings—you see it every time the only Black character in a book is a violent gangbanger, every time the only Latina on a television show is a superstitious maid or an overly sexualized pool boy (or a violent gangbanger), every time Fox Noise calls Michelle Obama a “baby mama” or talks about how “angry” she sounds.

So I also wholeheartedly support Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez’s right to connect the dots—as she did with Jacob Black’s name and a very problematic passage in the Book of Mormon—and ask difficult questions.

Greetings from Tropical Storm Fay-land

2008-08-22T06:40:00.000-07:00

I’m ridiculously grateful to have power right now, and when I realized it’s my day to blog, I figured I’d publicly celebrate that fact. So … yay, power! Big ups to my electric company—who even though they are boneheaded enough to deny the impending global warming crisis and send me letters against expanding solar or wind power (sigh), have managed to keep my lights on in this storm. And a wet, squishy hug to my newspaper delivery person for managing to drop off my newspaper even in this disgusting weather.

How disgusting is it? School (and my preschoolers’ day care) has been closed for the past three days as we waited for the World’s Slowest Tropical Storm Evah to stop hovering over Daytona and MOVE already. Fay finally meandered southwest of us, so things are really wet outside. We’re not flooding (although I hear the riverbanks are going to soon), but it’s quite windy, and the rain comes down in sheets whenever a squall line moves through.

Taking a page from a local newspaper columnist, here are a few things Fay has made me thankful for (besides electricity and Internet access):

• My kids are small enough, that all I have to do is bring out a few toys I’ve stored away, and they think they’re getting presents! This has been enough to keep them from going completely stir-crazy, fortunately.

• I’m happy for a break in the sauna-like weather, even though I can’t go out in it. (Well, I guess I COULD, but it wouldn’t be too much fun.)

• I’m glad my family and I have the wherewithal to NOT try kite-boarding in a tropical storm. If you haven’t seen the video that caused my brother to coin the term “Floridiot,” here it is.

• I’m glad the storm made my oldest younger brother Tom call me. Tom is not a phone person and rarely calls, but storms freak him out enough to suspend his lifelong phone embargo to make sure his nieces haven’t floated away.

• I’m grateful for take-out restaurants that stay open during tropical storms. Although I’m wicked devastated that my favorite Thai place is across a bridge that is currently closed.

• I’m glad our area hasn’t flooded and I haven’t seen any alligators swimming by. Or snakes. While neither one squicks me out as much as spiders do, I really don’t want to be dealing with a Florida rattler or a wet and crabby gator in my driveway anytime soon.

• I’m glad my Playstation 3 is still working. I have a rather unfortunate addiction to Lego Star Wars at the moment, and the storm has given me an excuse to finish it.

• But what I’m most grateful for (besides the health and safety of my family … and Lego Star Wars for the PS3) is that I have a massive stack of excellent books sitting here, just waiting to entertain. Three cheers for Tracy’s book-buying addiction! I knew it would come in handy someday.

How’s the weather where you all are? And have you read anything you’ve really loved lately? (Because I’ll probably be between books tomorrow, looking for something else to read….)

Polarization

2008-08-18T17:15:00.000-07:00

So I've been sucked into Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series. I suggested book one for my book club, just because I was curious to see what the hype was about, and now we're all like a bunch of rabid Harry Potter fans, glomming up the books and trading them amongst ourselves, while we neglect our dirty living rooms and unmade beds (but not the kids or the day jobs, of course!). I'm just about finished with the third book--will probably get to the end tonight as I get too little sleep and will probably read at least a page or two of the final book in the series, Breaking Dawn.

As a writer, what I find interesting are how polarized Meyer's reviews are, especially for the final book. People are either giving it five stars and falling all over themselves to expound on how GREAT it is, and what a GENIUS Meyer is. Or they are giving it one-star reviews and going on at length about how much they hated it.

I wonder if Stephenie reads her Amazon page, and if she just wants to smack the one-star reviewers upside the head. Especially the ones who feel like the final book "doesn't fit" the rest of the series, and that she got the ending "wrong." As if the series creator could get her own series wrong! But, of course, the other three books inspire great passion on either ends of the review spectrum too--on the one hand, fans are lining up to buy her books, get her autograph on them, name their children Bella after her heroine, and tattooing Edward's name somewhere on their skin. And others are yammering on about how they don't like the heroine, how Edward seems unrealistic, how poorly written the prose is, how predictable the books are.

And Meyer's series is called the successor to the Harry Potter phenomenon, while it's author rakes in seven-figure checks for her artistic work and has single-handedly turned tiny, damp Forks, WA, into a popular tourist destination.

It reminds me of something author Gail Blanke said at the published author retreat at the recent RWA conference in San Francisco. Actually, her mother said it.... When Gail was young and came home crying because another little girl at school was running around telling everyone she didn't like Gail, this wise woman told her daughter, "The only thing everyone likes is water, because it has no taste."

Translation: Do you want to be boring as all get-out and have everyone like you, or do you want to be fabulous and original and inevitably turn some people off?

I know what my answer is: I love 4.5- and 5-star reviews for my books, but if I can't have that, give me one star over 2 or 3 any day. I'd rather inspire some sort of strong emotion, rather than a "meh" reaction.

Reading is so subjective. I'm over the moon about Jeffrey Deaver's work, particularly because I love the careful research and minutely researched forensic detail. A friend just emailed me after reading him for the first time and said the details drove her nuts. I loved Laurell K. Hamilton's first several books in the Anita Blake series and wasn't as excited about her shift in an erotica direction--but she remains a literary force to be reckoned with and went into hardcover after she made that shift. Nearly every romance writer I admire cops to getting wildly polarized scores when she enters contests like RWA's Rita award.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this, other than that I just wanted to talk a little about how much I love the Twilight series, and how ready I am for whatever ride Meyer wants to take me on in Breaking Dawn. It's her story, and that fact alone makes me confident that whatever she does to tie it up is the right path. So because I've been so sucked into the series, I'm just going to turn off my internal editor and enjoy it.

And the next time I get a strangely low contest score, I'll remember her example and figure that maybe I'm doing something right.

P.S. I finalled in the Maggie Awards with my tracker story, Finding His Child. So I guess those score sheets won't be polarized! We'll see what happens at the finals!

20 Things I learned at the RWA National Conference in San Francisco

2008-08-04T12:06:00.000-07:00

1) Continental Airlines has squished seating, but excellent customer service. Three cheers for an airline with check-in personnel, flight attendants, and gate agents with manners, who actually seem happy to treat their customers with kindness. Signing up for a Continental OnePass account TODAY. Take that, Northworst!

2) 12:30 am on Saturday does not mean half an hour after midnight on Saturday, but half an hour after midnight on Friday. I generally know this, but apparently some neurons were misfiring when I made my reservation. Heaps of gratitude to the excellent Continental customer service agent who was able to put me on the exact same flight at 12:30 am on Sunday that I missed by not arriving at the airport at 12:30 am on Saturday. And an extra thank you to her for not pointing and laughing at me for being such a bonehead in the first place--at least, not while I was standing in front of her trying to prevent my head from exploding.

3) Just because someone has a low-key, Sally Kellerman-esque voice and is enviably skinny does not mean she cannot inspire. I was ready to sneak out of the PAN retreat because feeling chubby and squeaky-voiced in comparison was hardly my idea of inspiration, when Gail Blanke figuratively knocked me off my feet with a great speech that made me want to dive for my laptop and start writing. I've already ordered a copy of Between Trapezes....

4) If you plagiarize Nora, she will, and I quote, "go after you with a hammer while you sleep."

5) Nora Roberts actually gets asked by booksellers if she was the one who plagiarized Janet Dailey. Which sucks on so many levels. (For the record, it was totally and repeatedly Janet Dailey who plagiarized Nora.)

6) Harlequin as a whole is actually up 13% in profits for the year! Go, Harlequin!

7) Intrigue is doing incredibly well in sales. Go, Intrigue!

8) My editor does not hate me for taking a much-needed 7-month hiatus, and my agent is "pleased" that I still exist. Three cheers for Tracy, the Queen of Schmooze!

9) The elegant Francis Ray started a foundation to help abused women--with her own money. I got to meet her, which was a privilege.

10) I should not be on workshop panels sandwiched between two editors. I think I lost my mind from nervousness.... If you listen to the MP3, just fast-forward through any parts where a squeaky, non-Sally-Kellerman-voiced Latina starts talking. I don't remember a thing I said, which is never good....

11) Attendance at the multicultural PAN panels was kinda dismal. Seriously, people (of color), if you have been feeling like RWA doesn't notice your concerns, show up when they DO notice you and put together a workshop or PAN panel to address said concerns. The disappointed coordinators said that they had been told that "if they built it, people would come." People did not come, and if they continue to not come, no one's going to be building much at all. Which would be sad.

12) My usual limit of 2-3 glasses of wine, which has served me well in the past, does not work when I'm running on little sleep and much caffeine. Three small glasses of wine at the Harlequin party, and I was practically wearing a lampshade on my head. My apologies to everyone I talked to, hugged, danced spastically beside, or "love you, man!-ed." And a big thank you to Cathy Yardley for steering me back to the hotel, so I didn't wander around the city at night and try to commune with the other, perhaps less genial street drunks. Next year, I'm totally cutting myself off at one. God.

13) It is evil of Harlequin to put full bowls of Hershey kisses AND platters of cupcakes AND Rice Krispie bars AND little Key lime cakes into one room (the Harlequin Intrigue meet-and-greet) and require one to stay in said room for an hour. I'm going to have to work out for a week to get that mess off my Latina ass. (Mmmm, little Key lime cakes....)

14) Rumor has it that editors are looking for paranormal romantic suspense and YA suspense/romantic suspense.

15) According to at least one industry professional, no publisher has been able to do well with Latina lit.

16) The staff at the downtown Marriott in San Francisco is, to a one, unfailingly polite and incredibly competent. I've never had a more pleasant hotel stay in my life and am making a point to email the manager as soon as I recover from the jet lag and stop feeling like the plane ran over me rather than flew me home.

17) If you are from Central America, just let Enrique at the front desk know about it, and your Central American brother will secretly hook you up with the equivalent of the Presidential Suite, on the floor of your choice. Seriously, that was a SWEET hotel room, so muchas gracias, Señor Enrique!

18) If you're not up for a Rita and you skip the ceremony to hang out with an old friend who lives in the city, you will not feel you missed anything. But a big congratulations for the Rita and GH winners!

19) If you take a 12:30 am red-eye and have a layover after only three hours of flying, you WILL walk like a drunk to your next flight. You will also not be able to fully open your eyes for a good half hour, which results in your walking like a drunk into walls, side rails, other passengers. Fortunately, the gate agents must be used to this kind of behavior at 4 am and so did not breathalyze me.

20) It is really, really great to see old friends. And really, really great to come home and have two little ones who are thrilled beyond measure to see you.

My Name is Tracy, and I Have a Book-Buying Disease

2008-07-18T17:24:00.000-07:00

(cross-posted at Intrigueauthors.com)

I’m starting to think that my Book-Buying Disease is getting serious. My husband and I are in the process of trying to sell our house in a truly awful market, and the first thing our realtor said when he walked through the place was, "Books. You have to get rid of all these books."

I nearly fired him on the spot.

But then, I realized, he was just trying to help. The cleaner and more clutter-free your house is, the better its chances of impressing a potential buyer. But my books? They are not clutter. They’re … they’re … MINE. Sure, I have at least two full shelves-worth of books that I’ve purchased in the past and haven’t gotten to—cast-offs from garage sales and library book sales, bookstore bargain bins and, yes, books that I’ve gotten full price. Books friends have given me, and one guilty loaner that I have yet to return. (No, I’m really not one of THOSE people. I’ve tried several times to return it—the owner and I just can’t seem to get our acts together to meet up for a hand-off. I swear!)

I find a geeky comfort in sitting among my shelves, trying to decide which one to read next. My favorite part about moving (and we’ve done that a lot—my husband just retired after 20 years as a Naval officer) is getting to re-alphabetize my books. I once got a job at Barnes & Noble, even though the manager had to work around my rather labyrinthine grad school and tutoring schedule, simply by chirping, "But I LOVE shelving books!" with way more geekalicious enthusiasm than was probably necessary.

So anyway, I did pack up the vast majority of my books, which are sitting in the garage, boxed up in sad little stacks. Sometimes, they call to me when I am sleeping. But my husband and my realtor tell me that if I want to sell the house, I have to ignore their cries.

The bookshelf they were on was so old, it literally spat shelves on top of me and then fell over in an exhausted heap as soon as I’d removed the last book from it. I had to throw it out, but I still have two beautiful, handmade oak bookshelves in my family room, which I left standing with my realtor’s blessing, showcasing some of my prettier hardcovers and paperbacks.

And I allowed myself to keep ten unsightly paperbacks, a manageable To-Be-Read pile that fit neatly underneath my bed. I decided I would finally read those ten books that I’d been meaning to get to—including improve-your-mind classics like Dickens’ Great Expectations, Dumas’ Count of Monte Cristo, and the newly annotated version of Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Plus, there were a couple of Intrigues in there, some longer mainstream and romantic suspense, and two women’s fiction titles: Ann Brashares’ The Last Summer of You and Me, and Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez’s Make Him Look Good.

I read P&P in all its annotated glory (fun!), finished Count of Monte Cristo (way fun!), and flew through the Intrigues (you know how much I love those). And then, the siren-call of Barnes & Noble proved to be too much.

From my neat, compact pile of ten, I have added so many to that TBR pile that I now have enough books, purchased or found since November, to fit into a giant plastic bin next to my bed. Which I KNOW would make that vein in my realtor’s temple twitch in disapproval like an electrified banshee. There are no dust bunnies underneath my bed, because there are now so many books smashed into that small space, they crowded the dust bunnies out. (The Great Dust Bunny Diaspora of 2008 apparently led them all into those narrow spaces between my refrigerator and the kitchen cabinetry.)

And yet, I just went to a couple bookstores last week as a stress-relieving outing. I meant to just browse the shelves and perhaps pick up a magazine, but good intentions aside, I ended up adding the following to the TBR avalanche:

• Twilight, by Stephenie Meyer: Two adult friends have been after me to read this book forEVER. What has these two otherwise level-headed women to go completely off their heads over a teenaged vampire, I don’t know. But I want to see what all the hype is about.

• The Broken Window, by Jeffrey Deaver: Deaver is my hero. Best. Suspense. Author. EVAH. His plot twists are THE most amazing and unexpected in the mainstream suspense field, IMHO, and he was doing CSI stuff before CSI came on TV and made it cool. Deaver’s an autobuy for me, so, you understand, I HAD to get his latest. I’m halfway through it, and it’s A. May. Zing. Totally worth full-price (after my B&N discount, of course).

• PS I Love You, by Cecilia Ahern: This one I actually traded for at my local used bookstore. (Sorry, Cecilia! But don’t worry—if I like it, I’ll buy the next one new. Why? Because that’s the way my disease works.) I just watched the movie and liked it so much, I wanted to read the book. Which so far is quite different from the film! For one thing, Holly is Irish, not an American married to an Irishman she met on vacation. The differences are very interesting.

• Hood, by Stephen Lawhead: Does anyone remember that short-lived BBC series Robin of Sherwood, which aired on Showtime back in the 80s? I ADORED that series (which was FINALLY released on region 1 DVD last year), which marked the first time I fell in love with the Robin Hood legend. Someone gave Lawhead’s retelling of the legend and it’s sequel, Scarlet, GORGEOUS covers that drew me in like mosquitoes to a bug-zapper. I read the back, skimmed the first couple of pages, checked out a couple reviews, and then that bad boy was MINE.

Seriously, four books. What is my PROBLEM? Where am I going to put these things? What am I going to do when the ugly bin beside my bed finally explodes and I have nowhere else to hide my seriously out-of-control habit?

Maybe I can cram a few into that little space beside the refrigerator.

Am I the only one who has an out-of-control book habit? And what’s on your summer reading list?

Happy (late) 4th of July ... and Other Stuff

2008-07-07T13:14:00.000-07:00

(cross-posted at the Intrigue Authors blog)

Hope you all had a happy 4th of July!

So as well as celebrating the 4th, I an continuing to celebrate the end of the latest Mercury in retrograde cycle, which ended several days ago. Normally, I'm not one of those people who lives and dies by my horoscope, though I have to say, I do fit in well with the conventional Scorpio profile--which is, long story short, an emotion-driven, intuitive hermit with big eyes. But that, I feel, is more of a coincidence than anything. Although I could probably be talked into changing my mind about that when Mercury is in retrograde.

Mercury turns retrograde three times a year, meaning that it appears to be moving backwards in the sky throughout the Zodiac--an illusion caused by the orbital rotation of the Earth in relation to the other planets. According to Astrology.com, Mercury "rules thinking and perception, processing and disseminating information and all means of communication, commerce, education, and transportation.... Mercury retrograde gives rise to personal misunderstandings; flawed, disrupted, or delayed communications, negotiations and trade; glitches and breakdowns with phones, computers, cars, buses, and trains. And all of these problems usually arise because some crucial piece of information, or component, has gone astray or awry."

Is it any wonder that news that Mercury is in retrograde passes like wildfire among many writers? Communication AND technology gown awry--what fun.

I'm convinced that Mercury goes into retrograde simply to mess with me. Here's a list of every communication and mechanical thing in my life that went astray or awry during the latest period:

* A flight I was on from DC to Minneapolis was turned away from the airport ten minutes before we landed and diverted to Madison. Four hours of uncomfortableness later, the plane lifted off and attempted to land in Minneapolis DURING A TORNADO WATCH. This resulted in all sorts of fun turbulence that had me literally wondering if the plane was going to flip over and wishing that it would already, because if I'm going to die anyway, it might as well be over with quickly.

It also resulted in the people behind me having a nice 'I love you, man' moment that the romance writer in me might have enjoyed if I hadn't been contemplating my own mortality at the time.

* My clothes dryer stopped working. Of course, it feigned competence the entire time, emitting all the usual whirring noises, blasts of hot air, and actually tumbling my clothes around for hours. Did it dry them? No, it did not.

This is, of course, a mere three months after I paid the Sears repair guy way too much money to fix said dryer. But I'm not bitter.

* My mop handle broke. My environmentally conscious email to the company asking whether I could purchase just the handle without having to waste resources and buy the whole mop again went unanswered.

Was it my email that went awry, or the Method corporation's customer service policy? You decide.

* The produce drawer on my refrigerator cracked in two. This might be due to the fact that I married Lenny from Of Mice and Men (only in that he's constantly breaking things because he doesn't know his own strength.) and not Mercury's whereabouts.

* My laptop froze one day while I was working, emitted a series of mini-explosion noises, and died unceremoniously in my arms. It's taken me three weeks and five distraught phone calls to technical support to get the problem properly diagnosed (No, my laptop did not explode just because I installed Lego Star Wars without rebooting first! No, I did not spill anything on it. NO, I don't download attachments from the Queen of Timbuktu because she promised to leave me her millions. NO! Just ... no.) and a series of replacement parts ordered. The guy who was supposed to come install said replacement parts was delayed by two days.

* My craptacular Kenmore vacuum cleaner stopped sucking the way I want it to for the thousandth time, and started sucking on a whole new level. This particular vacuum (not-so-affectionately known around my house as The Soul-Sucking Lemon from Sears) was voted a "best buy" by Consumer Reports, BTW. It's a "best buy" if you don't mind it breaking down three or four times a year, so you can take it in for repairs and enjoy three weeks of nasty buildup forming into a light crust on your carpet while you wait for your best buy to come back from the shop.

I bought a new one--a highly regarded and highly expensive German brand, because someone told me, "You could drop it off a building, and it still wouldn't break." Although not about to test this theory, I am thrilled with its performance.

In the spirit of mangled communications spurred on by Mercury in retrograde, I hid it in a back closet and did not tell my cheap@$$ husband, who thinks that The Soul-Sucking Lemon from Sears suddenly decided to rally and actually clean the dirt off the carpet instead of picking it up and spewing it back into the air like a lint-and-sand fountain.

Now that Mercury is out of retrograde, I'm not sure when the Dirt-Sucking Miracle from Germany is going to, so to speak, come out of the closet. Whenever I feel like watching the dh whip out his calculators and household spreadsheets and working himself into a frenzy of budget-adjusting frugality, I guess.

* My husband ignored my repeated requests to pick up his socks and sweep up his stray coffee grounds from the kitchen counter before I take all of his socks and coffee bags and have a bonfire in the back yard. Of course, he ignores such requests when Mercury is not in retrograde, but it's nice to have something else to blame for a change.

* The paisley scarf Rachel Ray wore in a Dunkin' Donuts commercial was mistaken by a prominent newspaper columnist as being a (checkered) keffiyeh worn by Palestinian political extremists, and Dunkin' Donuts was forced to pull the ad. This has nothing to do with me, as I do not have a Dunkin' Donuts near me and I do not own a keffiyeh--or a paisley scarf cleverly masquerading as a keffiyeh. I was just glad to see that Rachel Ray's life is hard during Mercury in retrograde, too.

Anyone do anything exciting for the 4th? And did you survive Mercury in Retrograde unscathed?

Interview with Kelli Martin, Part 2

2008-05-29T04:26:00.000-07:00

Part two of my interview with Kelli Martin focuses less on Kimani and more about the state of multicultural fiction as a whole. Enjoy!

Tracy: A lot of writers seem to feel that shelving a book in an “ethnic” section of a bookstore, like the African-American section, limits its audience and its sales. Some authors have even used the shocking term, “literary segregation.” I know this is largely in the hands of bookstores, but as an editor, what are your thoughts on shelving by ethnicity and the use of the term “literary segregation?” Is it time to let this kind of shelving go, or does it serve an important purpose?

Kelli: I’ll tell you the truth: I fully support shelving and display tables by ethnicity. I know this is a big debate, and I understand both sides of it. At the end of the day, though, I believe that this type of shelving is how a lot of African-American readers buy their books.

To many readers it’s important to see books in a specific section to know what classic and current books are out there. Also, it’s a streamlined, more user-friendly way for bookstore staff to organize and shelve, and for readers to browse and buy.

In the African-American section, you have room to have more books face-out where the browser can the see the cover. This gives debut authors in particular a much larger chance of being picked up than if their book was spine-out on the shelf. And seeing that fabulous cover is crucial.

I pretty much shake my head at people who say “literary segregation.” Too much drama. Save it for the novel’s content!
Now in an ideal world, I would like to see this: within the African-American section, clearly label “Popular Fiction,” “Classic Literature,” “Urban Fiction,” and some general “Nonfiction” topics. If every store did, that would be amazing.

In the real world, I’ve seen several Borders stores in New York and Michigan have “African American” section, but label within it “Fiction/Literature”, “Urban Fiction”, “Non-Fiction.” And at some Barnes & Noble stores in New York, African-American fiction is shelved with all the other fiction authors in “Fiction/Literature.” So no “ghettoization” there. Their African-American section is for nonfiction only. And in the Romance section, there is a whole shelf for “African-American” with the rest of non-specific romance following.

I certainly understand writers not wanting be pigeon-holed. It’s a touchy subject. My bottom line, though, is that I believe it is psychologically empowering and comforting to see the African-American section, where many of the books covers are face-out. Writers end up selling a lot more this way. Especially first-time writers. If shelved in another section, there may only be the spine showing! And that’s no good for people just randomly browsing. With specific shelving, African-American readers wind up seeing all the facets of their lives right in front of their eyes.

Maybe it boils down to region. In bookstores with heavy African-American traffic, the African-American section would be more useful than if a store did not have a large Black clientele. But that’s impossible to pull off because the publisher and superstore category systems for where a book is shelved needs to be consistent from store to store. Or maybe it boils down to whose perspective we’re looking at it from: the writer or the reader.

Tracy: Some authors extend that criticism to cover art. They feel that making a book’s cover look too “ethnic” limits its audience and sales (i.e. putting Spanish in the title of a book by a Latina author). What are your feelings here—is it more effective to call out the ethnicity of the author/characters because it sets the book apart from the rest? Or is it more effective to make it look a little more vague and not-so-ethnic, and try to get it into the hands of EveryReader?

Kelli: I admit it; this is a hard one. In an ideal world, I wish the cover art were not as big a factor as it is. We see Black readers buying both ethnically-specific and ethnically-ambiguous books. But I don’t think you have as many non-Black readers buying race-specific books. Wish it wasn’t the case but it is.

Since our dreamworld isn’t here just quite yet, I believe putting visible cues to what to ethnicity is important. I think it’s very effective to call out the ethnicity of the author/characters because that way you’re speaking directly to your core audience. And no one wants to lose that. I also, though, believe that it does depend on the book’s content.

Now, don’t get me wrong; not every book needs to have an African-American woman with her hand on her hip; and a Spanish- or Punjabi-laced title should not be a prerequisite. Let’s not fall into stereotypes, please. And there are ways to soften racial markers.
Perhaps show a body part rather than the full body. Or have a cover show a culturally-meaningful object rather than Kente cloth background or an actual person. It takes a sensitive editor, marketing director, and art director/designer. But overall, I do believe at least hinting at the ethnicity is important, especially given the book’s content. Otherwise you’re losing your core audience. I edited a book called A Love Noire about a buppie-meets-boho literary love story in which the characters being African-American and Côte d’Ivoirean was very important. So we had a romantic, sexy, soft close-up photo of one brown clasping another brown hand on a bed sheet.

Tracy: There are myths that fiction by people of color is somehow highly politicized or so steeped in cultural identity that readers who don’t share that background can’t possibly relate. What do you say to that?

Kelli: I think that holds true for some books, but for the bulk of them I think that’s a pretty antiquated perspective. These days, young readers especially are so much less hung up on the issues the Civil Rights-, post-Civil Rights, X- and Y-generations were. Interracial romance and love stories are much more prevalent and accepted in real life now than they ever were, and bi- and multicultural families are the norm. And popular culture is so fervently embraced by just about all races and color. You even have the same phenomenon affecting all races! Like the color complex of light- and dark-skinnedness, which affects Americans of African, Indian, and Hispanic descent. Similarly, an Indian-Hispanic reader can certainly understand James McBride’s The Color of Water or Barack Obama’s Dreams of My Father. So with some books, there may be a few cultural jokes or references that go over the reader’s head, but for the most part, I believe readers who don’t share a particular background still can relate to the book.

But even though they can relate, it’s a question of do they actually buy that book.

Tracy: How can we change that attitude? Should we even bother?

Kelli: I think with the power and prevalence of popular culture and interracial and multiracial families, love and romance, we’re headed in the right direction with attitude. Hopefully, more people will actually do it, though. I don’t believe we should force it too much. I think the core audience of a book has priority, and if other people come to it, then that’s the icing on the cake.

Tracy: Some of my friends who wrote “chick lit” with Latina characters say their agents and editors are now asking for bigger, “more literary” books. Does that, in your opinion, indicate that literary fiction readers are more open to a variety of cultures and worldviews? Are commercial fiction readers just not ready to stray outside of the (Anglo) box? Or could it be that we just haven’t figured out how to reach commercial fiction readers yet?

Kelli: Really? Agents are saying that? Wow, that’s news to me. Hmm, I’ll have to think more fully about that, but off the top of my head, I’d say that yes, the literary fiction marketplace does seem to have a place for a more open dialogue on a variety of cultures and worldviews. Literary novels like The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, Native Speaker and Aloft by Chang-rae Lee, Drown and The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Díaz, Caucasia by Danzy Senna, Bodega Dreams by Ernesto Quinonez, Brick Lane by Monica Ali, The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, What is the What by Dave Eggers, The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears by Dinaw Mengestu, Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai, novels by Arundhati Roy, Zadie Smith, Edwidge Danticat—oh, God, I could go on forever!—were all literary novels about growing up inside or outside the US as a cultural “other.” And these novels got amazing reviews, sold well, and were embraced by all kinds of people.

I think the reason for this, though, depends on the reader’s intent: If you’re reading a literary novel, you may be looking for enlightenment and to learn something. If you choose to read chick lit, you’re probably in it for entertainment, a good laugh, some good lovin’, some glam fashion tips, and an inside scoop. And probably for it to fit a certain type; not to necessarily learn anything.

Tracy: Some writers of color have been asked to make their books more ethnic—i.e. I know several Latinas who were told their stories weren’t “Latino enough.” What do you recommend a writer do when she hears something like that?

Kelli: Now, this I have heard. I think it’s an attempt to capitalize on how popular “ethnic-oriented fiction” is doing well these days (see books listed above) and to make the books more “authentic”, to identify and reach the core audience more fully—and to make it more “sell-able.”

If a writer hears this, I suggest to actually think about what the person is saying. Not to go off on them, not to immediately say yes or no, just think. Then ask the person why they are suggesting that. Then ask for that person to give examples of changes. That’ll reveal whether the person is suggesting that some stereotypical, copycat follywang go into the novel or if she is making a good point about drawing out personal experiences that are relevant to the novel. For example, if you’re writing a coming of age novel about leaving El Salvador and growing up in Colorado, then I would say yes, include aspects of El Salvadorean culture because that’s integral to that type of coming of age story.

But if you’re writing a love story set in the Victorian era or a modern day romance set in New York’s coldest winter ever and you’re asked to throw a few “chicas” and salsa or merengue dance lessons in the mix, just say no. (Or hell to the naw!)

Bottom line: figure out what the core story of your novel is and decide for yourself.

Tracy: Why is it important that we get books written by people of color and edited by people of color “out there?”

Kelli: So important because diversity just makes
reading, and the world, richer! It makes readers more compassionate, more accepting, more educated about various cultures and countries and time periods. And given some of the horrors of history (slavery, land-stealing, internment camps), it’s extremely important to make sure groups who have been historically silenced now have a strong voice. And strong listeners.

Interview with Kelli Martin, Part 1

2008-05-28T11:59:00.000-07:00

Kelli Martin is the Senior Editor of Kimani Romance, Harlequin’s flagship imprint for contemporary, category-length romance written by and about African Americans. According to its guidelines, Kimani Romance offers “sexy, dramatic, sophisticated, and entertaining love stories featuring realistic African-American characters that work through compelling emotional conflicts on their way to committed and satisfying relationships.” Martin has published romance superstars like Brenda Jackson and Donna Hill, as well as up-and-coming authors like Michelle Monkou and Ann Christopher. Prior to her tenure at Kimani Press, Kelli Martin was senior editor at Disney’s Jump at the Sun and editor of HarperCollins’ Amistad. She began her career at Simon & Schuster.

I interviewed Kelli for an article that appeared in the May 2008 Romance Writer’s Report, entitled “Romance in Color: Is it Time to Move Away from ‘Multicultural’ Book Marketing?” Kelli was so generous with her time and her answers that I couldn’t just let all that great information that didn’t fit into the article go to waste. Ergo, here is my full interview with Kimani’s Kelli Martin. ...

Tracy Montoya: Why is it so important that African-American writers have their own imprints and category lines, like those that make up Kimani?

Kelli Martin: The importance of having imprints devoted to publishing work by and for African-Americans varies from publishing house to publishing house. Some houses have specific imprints (Kimani at Harlequin; Amistad at HarperCollins; One World, Strivers Row, and Harlem Moon at Random House), while others don’t and simply incorporate multicultural books into their flagship imprint (Simon & Schuster, Pocket Books, Grand Central Publishing, St. Martin’s Press).

At Kimani, we believe a distinct imprint is important for many reasons: first, for such a long time there were very few books that featured African-American characters, that showed them on the covers of books, that portrayed them in a rich, sophisticated, non-stereotypical and real way. Kimani Press and other imprints are devoted to doing solely just that. In a way, the imprints are making up for lost time.

Second, a huge demographic of African-American reading communities tend to buy books this way. Books in African-American imprints depict certain shared aspects of African-American culture, like history, language, custom, trends, humor, and about a million other things. Specific imprints like Kimani make sure no characters are stereotypical. They make sure books reflect trends that are actually happening within African-American communities. Imprints make sure the books are marketed and publicized to African-American-specific media and web sites, which are often not known or not paid attention to by other houses.

Imprints like Kimani make sure readers find a wide breadth of books that speak to how diverse African-Americans are, as well as the commonalities. The imprints make sure there are fun and entertaining novels, serious and thought-provoking books, and moving, soul-inspiring tales. And last, we’ve got to remember that it wasn’t even two centuries ago that African-Americans were not allowed to read or write in the first place. So now Kimani and other imprints are turning that upside down—with a vengeance!

Tracy: Harlequin as a whole publishes a few writers of color inside other lines, like Caridad Piñeiro in Nocturne, Brenda Jackson in Desire, me in Intrigue. With Kimani’s success, is it possible that we’ll see more multicultural writers and storylines in Harlequin’s other category lines?

Kelli: Absolutely. Some books by African-American writers are race- and culture-specific so they would be published at Kimani. And other books are not focused on a particular cultural aspect. It really depends on the content of the book, the wishes of the author, and who the book/author’s core audience is.

Tracy: Do you think breaking out the African-American romances into Kimani lines in any way limits their audience, and therefore their potential sales?

Kelli: No, I do not believe starting out in Kimani limits the author’s growth, the audience or sales. If anything, I believe just the opposite! African-American readers are some of the most loyal readers ever. Kimani readers are so amazingly hungry for well-written, rich books, and they communicate that. Readers go to book conferences, have chat rooms, write the authors, write the publisher asking when their favorite authors’ next book comes out, and put their money where their mouths are. And if it’s an author they really enjoy? Readers will always be back for more. No doubt about it.

Tracy: We had a couple of years there where a lot of publishers seemed to really want chick lit and mainstream women’s fiction books by and about Latinas and Asians, for example, but now some of them are backing off. What do you think is going on with these markets? Do you think Harlequin will ever expand Kimani to include other ethnicities, or even create a new line for multicultural books other than African-American books?

Kelli: I’m actually in the dark about this and too wonder why. I believe with Latinas, the many languages may play a factor. Ecuadorians are wholly different from Puerto Ricans who are different from Cubans who are different from Dominicans. So the nuances and pride in language and culture and custom may have readers not that interested in buying a certain type of general “Latino” book. Maybe they want something more regionally specific? So the publishers aren’t seeing the sales numbers that they want.

I believe Kimani will and should stay focused on African-American books. Sometimes when you reach out to too many groups, the mission of the original entity gets convoluted and watered down. You’ve lost your core audience. Plus, how do you market to all those different types of groups? It’s pretty difficult. And buying patterns are different too. For example, with African-American readers in particular, we often buy a book three months after it’s been on the shelf rather than immediately in the first month like a lot of other readers do.

Tracy: Speaking of, I was surprised to see Kimani Tru publishing a book called How to Salsa in a Sari, with a heroine who was black and Indian, and a supporting character who was Latina. Do you see potential for more “melting pot” books like that in Kimani, particularly in Kimani Romance?

Kelli: Yes, absolutely! With the large number of bi- and multi-racial families these days, I think that’s a very
important and fun phenomenon to tap into. Talented writers can get so creative with how to weave the many cultural threads together! It Chicks, another YA novel, has a similar cast of characters.

At Kimani, we’ll be sure to acquire more writers that explore this. Of course, our focus will still be African-Americans falling in love with Africa-Americans since that’s our mission but we’ll be mixing it up a bit to reflect what’s going on in the world.

Tracy: Since you’ve been an editor at several houses, what kinds of struggles do you see publishers going through to get books by and about women of color to a larger audience?

Kelli: The top struggle I’ve seen are with the jacket/cover. When it comes to the jacket, it’s all about whether to have African-American people on the cover or not, and whether that will enhance or limit sales. In my experience, Black women readers often tend to respond to an image that looks like them. But sometimes that same book is just a love story that any woman could relate to, regardless of race/culture. It’s the perennial struggle. It really depends on the content of the book, how recognizable the author’s name is, and who the core audience is.

Tracy: Can you talk about your various publishers’ experiences getting bookstores to buy books by writers of color? Are they in any way a harder sell than books by Anglo authors?

Kelli: You know, I’ll be honest: In ten years of editing, I have never experienced a hard time getting a bookstore to buy a novel by a writer of color. And I’m happy to say that! We all know how important Terry McMillan was in breaking-out contemporary African-American fiction, so since then bookstores have been clamoring for them. When I was at HarperCollins, the sales force was constantly asking when Darren Coleman was coming out with a sassy, sexy new novel. Black authors are big business.
Now sometimes the literary novels were a harder sell, and the bookstores would take a slightly smaller quantity than we had projected, but that was the case for all literary writers, not just ones of color.

And now with stores like Target and Wal-mart selling books, we’ve found them very devoted to writers of color. Plus, many publishing houses have a sales rep(s) specifically devoted to African-American stores. And many stores and book distributors have “buyers” specifically devoted to covering ethnic-oriented books. And that’s very necessary.

Stay tuned for part 2 of this interview, to come tomorrow!

Women, Words, and Wisdom: Berta's Winner!

2008-05-26T10:19:00.000-07:00

Berta Platas' winner is Milly! Congrats, Milly, and thanks for participating in our Latina authors blog tour! (Thanks, also, for your patience. I just rolled in after a cuh-RAZY flight with my 4- and 2-year-old, and I think my head exploded somewhere over Memphis....)

Since I posted my blog tour entrya little early, I also want to make sure that everyone knows that we're back on schedule, so Kathy Cano-Murillo will be posting her blog tour entry tomorrow, May 27th. Be sure to visit her blog tomorrow--she has a really fun, effervescent voice. Kathy will also post the winner of my $10 Amazon gift certificate and a copy of I'll Be Watching You.

Women, Words, and Wisdom: Latina Blog Tour

2008-05-25T12:04:00.000-07:00

I had to do some unexpected travel this past week, so consequently, I had no time to write up something all new for the Women, Words, and Wisdom blog tour. In fact, I'll be flying early in the morning on the 26th--my day for the tour--so I'm posting this a little early and will let you all know who Berta's winner is Monday afternoon after my plane lands.

So, here's a post from a couple of months ago that seems to fit the theme, slightly updated. Everyone who comments will be entered to win a $10 Amazon.com gift certificate and a copy of my April release from Harlequin Intrigue, I'll Be Watching You. Be sure to stop by Kathy Cano-Murillo's blog on the 27th to find out the winner and continue on the tour!

* * *

A few weeks ago, my car and I limped into the dealership with two nearly flat tires and an alleged transmission fluid leak. Interestingly enough, it turned out that my transmission was perfectly fine. Why did I think I had a leak? Because a few rude men at a Certain Oil Change Chain (*cough*Texaco*cough*) told me during my last oil change that I had such a leak, and they, of course, tried to charge me $100 to fix it.

Now I'm not the greatest with cars, but I have a strange sixth sense about the well-being of my Scion XB. I can sense a disturbance in The Force when the tires need rotating, or when something like the starter needs to be replaced, or when it needs an oil change (because the hot Florida sun always bleaches the little reminder sticker on my window well before it's time). When I went to get my oil change, I had felt no transmission-related Force disturbances, so I balked at having my "leak" fixed and took the car home, where my husband pronounced the mere idea of a transmission fluid leak to be the delusional yammerings of a greedy, two-bit con artist. So I decided to take it to the Toyota dealer and ask them, just to be sure. My XB is still under warranty, so the dealer definitely wasn't going to try to sell me a transmission repair if one wasn't needed.

Anyhoo, the transmission was fine, and just as my husband and The Force had said, the oil change people were just trying to squeeze another bit of cash out of a gullible woman driver.

Jerks.

Women are often socialized to always be polite, to trust authority figures or experts, to never shout or get REALLY angry in public. And sometimes, particularly at unscrupulous Oil Change Chains (*cough*Texaco*cough*), the mere idea that women are less likely to challenge authority or get all up in one's face puts us at a big disadvantage.

Fortunately, I didn't fall for the chain's dastardly schemes. And if I ever go back to that accursed Oil Change Chain, I am totally going all ajuma on them. What's an ajuma? Let me explain....

Not too long ago, I lived in Seoul, Korea for two years with my Naval officer husband (or former Naval officer--he just retired after 20 years on March 1. WHOO!). I loved the experience, although I hated the fact that I was a complete brick about learning the language and kept defaulting to Spanish whenever my broken Korean and spastic sign language couldn't get my meaning across to the people in my community. And what I found really fascinating were the cultural differences. (Note: I'm not stereotyping--everything to come was corroborated by Korean friends.)

If you had the Presidents protocol expert at your side when you visited Korea, s/he would tell you that it's rude in Korea to use your left hand to give something to someone else. Rather like Regency-period Europe, it's rude to just start talking to someone (who is not providing customer service) unless you have been properly introduced by a third party. (This is not an iron-clad rule, especially among young people. But it is present.) It's not really considered rude to stare. (Ergo, people would often come out of nowhere to gather around to unabashedly observe this then-pregnant Latina flailing her arms while informing a very confused taxi driver that "I need you to drive me to the pencil" in Korean. I bet my neighbors miss me--I was always good for an afternoon's entertainment.)

In addition, it's rude to be really loud or overtly emotional in public. Of course, it happens--remember when those two men in the Korean Parliament were in the news because they started wrestling in the middle of the Parliament building's floor? But in general, I could go on the subway or sit in a coffee shop or go to a store, and I rarely ran into someone who was yammering so loud on their cell phone, they seemed to be shouting inside my head.

This was particularly true with the women--younger women in Korea tend to be especially soft-spoken and generally extremely polite. They are extremely careful with their diets--the average Korean woman is a size two. I read this in a local Seoul magazine, and experienced it first-hand when a shopkeeper eyeballed my size-8 figure as I was looking at her collection of skirts and promptly handed me an "extra large."

On Korean Air, we noticed that this quiet, ladylike behavior was somewhat magnified: the female flight attendants had their hair pulled back the same way, were roughly the same (size two) weight, and wore heeled shoes of varying heights, so they all ended up being roughly the same height, with very similar makeup. I admired how gentle and refined they were, but their impeccable manners coupled with the rigid sameness to their dress made it all a little like riding on Robert Palmer's "Addicted to Love" plane, but in Korea.

But then, around age 50 or 60, many Korean women apparently say to heck with all that and become what is known as an "ajuma" (ah-juh-ma). Technically, the word means elder or married woman. But according to several Seoul residents I met, it's gotten a slightly pejorative connotation in Korea that unfortunately makes it more akin to "crazy old bag." Once a woman has decided she's entered the age of the ajuma, she often cuts her hair short and perms it (A phenomenon one Korean website describes as sending the message that "I am married; please don't try to pick me up."), dresses in horrible polyester pants, and says goodbye to her size twos as she gains as much weight as she pleases. And then comes the attitude--ajumas will bust in front of you in line without a backward glance. They will literally shove you out of their way. They will get in your face if they think you have an opinion or a mannerism that needs changing. They are not quiet and soft-spoken, and they are not gentle and nurturing. They are women, hear them roar.

They're fabulous. I loved the gentle, soft-spoken women I befriended in Korea, but I also secretly loved that in a few years, they'd go all ajuma and become strong, outspoken, and magnificent. (And yes, I met some younger women who were already strong and outspoken, but were perm-free. I'm talking patterns here--not absolutes.)

That's not to say that I never ended up on the wrong end of an ajuma. We had one as a landlady our first year there, and she would literally peer into my windows to see how high I'd turned up the thermostat in the winter. If it was too high, she'd barge in and turn it down--or lecture me about turning it down, complete with grand gestures because of my extremely tenuous grasp of the Korean language. And occasionally, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and would end up shoved against a wall while an ajuma barreled by. Which most of the time just cracked me up. All in all, the ajumas gave me great joy.

My grandmother on my dad's side has always had a bit of ajuma about her. A couple of years ago, she got a speeding ticket, and instead of just mailing in the payment, she showed up at the police station and told them to just put her in jail until they considered her debt to society paid. The police officer on duty ended up spending the better part of his day begging her to just pay the thing, because he really didn't want to put a nearly 90-year-old woman in jail. She tells this story often and with a considerable amount of glee. I have no doubt that she didn't intend to spend one minute in jail--she just wanted to see if she could get out of paying the ticket. And, I think, she might have been a little bored that day and just wanted to mess with someone.

And, of course, my mother and my aunts from Honduras probably started out as ajumas at birth. Whatever the cultural norms are in Honduras, they all taught me that being Latina means being a strong woman who stands up for herself. Is your boyfriend sometimes not nice to you? Dump him, Mom would say, because you certainly deserve better. Does someone make fun of you for your mother's accent, your perma-tan, your culture? Ignore him, Mom demonstrated again and again by example, because he's an idiot who deserves to be pitied for his staggering ignorance. Did a friend of yours just act in a way that's not so friendly? Forget about it, Mom repeated from grade school through college--she's just jealous because you're so fabulous.

Those things were all difficult to absorb when I was younger, but now, in my 30s, I remember them well and have put them to good use. And I may not have permed my hair or started rocking the polyester pants yet, but I have an inner confidence that I never would have had without all of the ajumas in my life--Honduran, Czech, and Korean. And yes, when I'm with the ones in my family, I do tend to feel just a little bit fabulous.

New Latina Authors Blog Tour!

2008-05-20T07:46:00.000-07:00

In honor of May being Latino Books month, a group of fab Latina authors (and me!) are lauching a ten-day blog tour. Visit each of the blogs below on their given days to get a fabulous short story or non-fiction essay, and comment to win one of ten prizes!

Mary Castillo got us started on the 19th at: http://marycastillo.blogspot.com/

The entire lineup includes:

May 19 - Mary Castillo(http://marycastillo.blogspot.com/)
May 20 - Barb Ferrer(http://fashionista_35.livejournal.com/)
May 21 – Lara Rios(http://www.lararios.blogspot.com/)
May 22 – Mayra Calvani(http://www.thedarkphantom.wordpress.com)
May 23 – Caridad Scordato(www.caridad.com/blog)
May 24 – Jamie Martinez Wood(http://jamiemartinezwood.blogspot.com/)
May 25 – Berta Platas(http://bertaplatas.blogspot.com/)
May 26 – Tracy Montoya(www.tracymontoya.blogspot.com)
May 27 – Kathy Murillo(http://thecraftychica.blogspot.com)
May 28 – Misa Ramirez(http://chasingheroes.com)

Remember, prizes! Go read and comment!

P.S. Thank you to Nuvia Crisol Guerra for allowing us to use her stunning artwork for our logo. If you want to see all of her work, visit http://www.artecrisol.com/.

Geekalicious Joy, Part 2

2008-05-03T10:17:00.001-07:00

18 days, 10 hours, 42 minutes, and counting!

Stupid Things That Scare Me

2008-05-02T11:02:00.000-07:00

(cross-posted at the Intrigue Authors blog)

Screeching in late today due to a dentist appointment. And I just have to say, my hygienist was running about 40 minutes late--would it KILL that surly blonde at the front desk to let me know and not act like I'm some sort of leper when I come up to politely ASK when I'm going to get my stupid teeth cleaned?

Sheesh.

Anyway, I've been fussing with a new proposal, and I've been thinking about what scares me--after all, a good Intrigue should scare you, at least a little, right? And I feel some of my personal-best suspense scenes tend to be the ones where I take my own fears and just let my imagination have at them.

So all of this thinking about what scares me led me to start thinking about Stupid Things That Scare Me. And let me tell you, there's one really stupid fear that I have that I just can't get over....

Superman has kryptonite. Indiana Jones (19 days, 10 hours, 13 minutes, and counting!) has snakes. And I have ... Bigfoot.

Stop laughing. Just hearing the name "Bigfoot" gives me a MAJOR case of the heebies. Just watch:

Bigfoot.

:::shudder:::

OK, I guess you'll have to take my word for it that my skin just crawled into the next room and hid behind the sofa, but I have a deep, irrational fear of Bigfoot that rivals my arachnophobia, and no amount of telling me that it was all just an old guy in a gorilla suit is going to make me feel any better. Said deep, irrational fear is due to a convergence of traumatic, Bigfoot-related events in my life.

1) There were alleged Bigfoot sightings near my hometown when I was in the third grade and regularly WALKING HOME ALONE from school. I'm not kidding--just google Bigfoot and Wisconsin or La Crosse Tribune, and you'll probably find at least part of the Trib's series of articles from 1976 talking about a cluster of Bigfoot sightings in Cashton. Cashton was about a 20-minute drive from my hometown of Wilton, but word on the street (there were 500 people in this town, so the word was literally only on one street) was that Wilton farmers were seeing the big hairy beast on their land, too.

How do I know this? One of my classmates was the son of the town sheriff, and he would oh-so-generously come to school and yammer on about how his dad got called out to yet another farm because someone was having a staredown with Bigfoot. He also swore that his dad chased down the Big B and fired off a few shots at it, but I suspect he was just being a dude and embellishing at this point. Why? Because I'm guessing Bigfoot would have had Sheriff Evans as a tasty snack if it were true. According to BFRO (that would be the Bigfoot Research Organization), Bigfoot doesn't react well to aggression.

But that doesn't mean the rest of this kid's stories weren't true, and it's enough to make my hair stand up and frizz even more than it already does. I remember him telling us how his dad talked about the awful stench that Bigfoot gave off. A few days later, the Tribune printed an article about yet another Monroe County Bigfoot sighting, with a headline that referred to the big B as a "stinker" and several references to the Bigfoot Stench in the body of the piece.

When I walked home that day from school, someone had made a giant footprint in the snow. I just want to go on the record and say that it really wasn't funny.

2) About this same time-ish, Bigfoot had a recurring guest role on my favorite show at the time, The Bionic Woman (right up there with Wonder Woman, Electrawoman and Dyna-Girl, and The Secrets of Isis! I'm totally showing my age here, but I loved strong heroines even then.). He was big. And hairy. And mean. And I didn't like the way he swooped his arms around like he could lop your head off with one swing. So thanks to my favorite TV show, the unseen horror in my head suddenly had a face. A big, hairy, terrifying face. Curse you, Lindsay Wagner!

3) Then my best friend Terri went to see the movie Sasquatch, the Legend of Bigfoot in the theater. She came back and kindly gave me a blow-by-blow of the piece, which was by no means a literary art-house film. Her recounting of Bigfoot's terrible roar, his hunting down and slaughtering at least one of the seven men who were camping in the Pacific Northwest, and her accompanying imitation of those Awful. Swooping. Arms. nearly sent me over the edge. Seriously, what kind of best friend DOES THIS? It was also allegedly a true story, which I remember she informed me with considerable glee. I was probably cowering under my Wonder Woman book bag in a corner of the lunchroom.

4) Sure, you may think that Ray Wallace's family admitting that he faked the famous Patterson-Gimlin Bigfoot film footage and footprints puts an end to this horrible, horrible legend. But the fact is, Bigfoot sightings have been documented since 1840 and probably earlier. Ray Wallace and his gorilla suit were not around then. And not only do many Native American tribes have Sasquatch legends dating back to Heaven Knows When, but there is actual forensic evidence that point to the fact that some Bigfoot footprints are real. One scientist points to the "push-mound" in the middle of the prints, which is created by the horizontal push of the first part of the foot before it leaves the ground. Fake feet can't do that, he says.

The enormous step interval measured between several tracks (in excess of three feet), this scientist says, would also be very difficult for hoaxers to create without making a mistake. Variations in toe positions would also be difficult to fake, he says. And another researcher named Henry Franzo compared 550 Bigfoot prints to each other and found that their measurements varied on a curve very much like how a similar group of human footprints would display.

What can I say? I like to research things that scare me. Although it really didn't help, in this case. You should see me on WebMD.com.

So, yeah, I have a very strange and irrational fear of Bigfoot. Which some people, I am sad to say, exploit for their own personal enjoyment. One of my college friends found, to his great amusement, that all he had to do was slouch a little and swing his arms in that swooping, knuckle-scraping motion made famous on the Bigfoot episodes of The Six Million Dollar Man and The Bionic Woman, and I'd immediately bury my face in the nearest pillow and start whimpering. Fortunately for me, he also had an irrational fear of Bigfoot, and if he did this too often, he scared himself. Instant karma, baby!

BFRO and other organizations still report Bigfoot sightings today. In fact, a January 2008 article in the West Bend Daily News says there have been some new sightings in the West Bend area. That would be West Bend, Wisconsin. That's a FIFTEEN-MINUTE DRIVE from my hometown, people! My PARENTS are there, and I'm headed that way in exactly two weeks.

SHRIEK!

Sometimes, I think it would be better just to move to Loch Ness. THEIR monster just paddles around a lake from time to time and doesn't EAT PEOPLE.

Anyone else have an embarrassing, irrational fear? Or am I all alone here?