MAYBE THIS TIME BARRIS WILL USE MORE THAN A GONG

According to a story in Zen Entertainment (http://zentertainment.com/article.php?sid=3D6840=20), there's a chance The Gong Show will return. I say give Barris a gun instead of a gong. Now THAT'S reality TV worth watching!

Just testing.... Please, just skip this post, go on with your life and do useful things.

WRONG ISRAELI

We send all the wrong people into space. Today's space shuttle mission sent the first Israeli astronaut into space on another mission to continue building the International Space Station.

While this is all wonderful, I can't help thinking that it would be much better if we put Ariel Sharon and Yasser Arafat up into space, and didn't let them down until they'd come to an agreement they and their people could both live with. I've got to think after a few weeks of nothing but freeze-dried ice cream and lima beans, world peace would be much closer at hand.

While we're at it, how about sending up Saddam Hussein and Kim Il Jong?

Once more, we spend money the wrong way...

SHOULD WE PLAN SOME SORT OF PARTY?

>From: MediaPost
>Subject: Real Media Riffs - Friday, Dec 13, 2002
>To:
>X-MpMember: XmpSH.tr.mflynn@traders.com.XmpEH
>MIME-Version: 1.0
>Date: Fri, 13 Dec 2002 13:27:00 -0500
>
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>Friday, December 13, 2002
>
> What Impact Should This Have On This Year’s TV Upfront?: The Mayan
>Calendar, a sophisticated instrument of time and space more than two
>thousand years old, prophesizes that Humanity will come to an abrupt end
>on a date equating to the winter solstice of 2012...exactly ten years from
>this December 21st. Should we be worried? Author Steve Alten, whose novel,
>DOMAIN centers upon the 2012 event, thinks so. "A calendar, in this sense,
>measures how long Earth's solar year is. What's disturbing about the Mayan
>prophecy is that their calendar is actually more accurate than the
>European Calendar we base our current calendar on today -- even though
>it's 1,500 years older. The calendar itself is divided into five great
>cycles. Humanity is presently in the fifth and last cycle, the previous
>four all ending in cataclysms."

MY PROMISE FOR A NEW YEAR

This is no time to be talking about resolutions. Particularly since other people might be reading them. Imagine the embarrassment when I discuss that I resolve not to eat Big Macs anymore.

But, one of my resolutions is to post to this... well, frequently. Daily would be insane. Let's view it like a column... maybe posts three times a week, say Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.

That's presuming this gets posted. My December 20 systems check apparently hadn't posted.

Anyway, I'll write to you three times a week; you can e-mail me whenever you like something I've said. That's, of course, mikeflynn@dbug.org. And if I knew how to HTML, that would be a link. But it ain't.

IS THIS THING ON? CHECK... CHECK... TESTING.

At this point, it's been months since I've posted here, and my faithful readers (hi, Chris!) probably assume I've gone fishing or been sent to a mental health facility. I've been procrastinating.

But, since I intend to release this blogsite to the general public, I needed to check that it was still working. So: e-mail me at mikeflynn@dbug.org if you're reading this.

And... happy holidays. (No war in Iraq talk at 11.)

HERE'S BILLY!

I don't know what excites me more -- the idea that Rosie O'Donnell, Oprah Winfrey and Bryant Gumbel are leaving the air, or NBC is discussing the idea of putting former president William Jefferson Clinton on the air.

There's no doubt that Bill Clinton was the first real TV president. Sure, John F. Kennedy and Ronald Reagan knew how to use TV, but Bill Clinton was born to be on TV. He was his own afternoon soap opera for eight years. What lie would he be caught in? Was he cheating on his wife? Was his wife too concerned about her own career to serve as a proper spouse? What would become of his daughter? And what about his earnest sidekick, Al?

I am ready and waiting for a Bill Clinton TV show. I just hope it isn't Oprah For Middle-Class White Liberals.

Here's what I want to see on The Bill Clinton Show:

• Cheerleaders. Lots of 'em. Doing dance numbers in slinky blue dresses.

• Prank Phone Calls. I want Bill calling Chief Justice William Rehnquist and asking him if his refrigerator is running.

• Name That Sandwich! We blindfold the ex-prez, then ask him to identify what ingredients are in the sandwich he's fed by an attractive young woman in I Dream of Jeannie garb.

• Beer Shots With Heads of State. Can Bill get King Abdullah to party hearty? You know it!

• Wife-Swapping Auction. At the start of each show, Bill starts an auction; winner gets to go home to Hillary. Any money raised pays off his legal defense expenses.

• Judge Bill. Once a week, Bill dons judicial garb and resolves the petty problems of world leaders. Peace in the Middle East? Leave that to Jimmy Carter. King Juan Carlos stole Jacques Chirac's lawn gnome? Bill's your man!

• Sax Classics. Bill pulls out his ax and plays hits from the past -- everything from Lennon to McCartney.

• Truth or Consequences. Bill calls up an authority figure and tries to lie his way into something.

• Visits With Al. Once a week neighbor Al Gore stops by to discuss how to reinvent something.

I think the Bill Clinton Show would be the first hit of the TiVo Generation. Plan on watching it today!

ITEM: SEATTLE MARINERS' STADIUM POLICY SUCKS

Some entrepreneur spent his time and money making and selling "Yankees Suck" t-shirts outside Taxpayer Stadium -- excuse me, Safeco Field -- while the New York Yankees were in town to play the Seattle Mariners this past weekend.

As a transplanted New Yorker who became a Mariners' fan during the team's improbable but exhilarating dash to the pennant in 1995, I have long waited for my adopted town to become true baseball fans. You know, like Yankees fans.

As a boy who practically grew up in the upper deck of Yankee Stadium (general admission seats just $1.50), I learned from the best how to scream, shout, boo, catcall, wheedle and tease both home team and visitor alike. On days when the Stadium was filled to the rafters with crazed fans, seats would be thumped like drums and vocal chords would be sacrificed for any chance that Roy White or Bobby Murcer (or Lou Piniella) would send home the winning run. When I moved to Seattle, whose team played like its AAA cousin 40 miles away in a concrete burial mound I grew to call the Kingdump, I was appalled at both the minimal attendance at games and the almost golflike quiet that fell upon the Home nine. I vividly recall one shout I made -- at an opposing player, no less -- that could not only be heard throughout the empty and cavernous structure, but drew the first of many disapproving stares from fellow spectators. (You could not call them fans.)

I will always be a fan of the Yankees, but I was pleased to learn the other day that those "Yankees Suck" t-shirts were available to the discriminating Mariners fan. (For that matter, I suspect, the entrepreneur in question could sell them on the Internet to the other dozen American League teams plus fans of the New York Mets, who probably regard the Yankees even more malevolently than AL aficionados.

And then -- in a move so totally Third Millennium Pacific Northwest -- the Mariners would not permit anyone wearing those shirts to actually enter Safeco Field. (Could it have something to do with being named for an insurance company?) The shirts in question were offensive and therefore against the team's code of conduct for spectators.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Last year, when I lustily booed Bud Selig at the All-Star Game -- the man who stole the Seattle Pilots, for crying out loud! -- the people around me in our hundred-dollar seats in the nosebleed section gave me the same kind of look one would expect for hocking a loogie in church. These are, in fact, the same fans who think they're cheering Edgar Martinez when they sing-song his first name. Clearly they missed the idea that the Red Sox fans were taunting Darryl Strawberry in 1986 when they sing-songed his name. (Not that it helped them any.)

What's next? What other wry banter or sly irony could be considered by Mariners management to be offensive? Will fans wearing green be ejected from Athletics games? Those in red be tossed from Angels contests? What about someone with Tourette's syndrome? A bad hair-do? A smokers' cough?

I think the Mariners need to update their guide and include it with every ticket sold. In the interim, here (subject to change by Mariners' spokeswoman Rebecca Hale, who, by the way, used to be an actual journalist) (although I guess if she had actually been good at it, she'd be covering the war on terrorism or the trial of the alleged Green River killer) are some t-shirts that may not be worn by visitors to Safeco Field:

* A-Rod Stinks
* Derek Jeter's House Is Messy
* Jorge Posada Slurps His Soup
* Jason Giambi Lets His Peas Touch His Potatoes
* Alfonso Soriano Forgot To Brush His Teeth
* Robin Ventura Doesn't Mow His Lawn
* Roger Clemens Has Coffee Stains On His Furniture
* Andy Pettitte Wears Wrinkled Clothes
* There's A Button Missing On Bernie Williams' Blue Suit
* Shane Spencer Steals Ketchup From McDonald's
* Mariano Rivera Doesn't Polish His Shoes
* Joe Torre Doesn't Wash His Car
* Rondell White Missed A Spot While Shaving
* Mike Mussina Has A Floormat Missing In His SUV
* Orlando Hernandez's Hair Is Mussed

As you can see, all of these are quite offensive and youngsters and sensitive types alike should not be forced to read words of such rudeness.

The worst of all, however, would be to wear this t-shirt. It's so rude, so offensive, so horrible, so unmentionably obscene that any baseball fan would attack you for forcing it into his or her line of sight. So... that t-shirt you have with George Steinbrenner's face on it? Never, ever, ever wear it to a game.

Ever.

GEORGE REEVES, CHRISTOPHER REEVE, JORDAN BAYNE

I hear today that an actress is about to be cast for the role of Wonder Woman in the upcoming film, and it's an actress named Jordan Bayne. Yes, I've never heard of her.

The producers want to cast someone without a lot of experience because then the audience will focus on the character and not the actress.

And yet... somehow Batman managed to succeed with Michael Keaton. In fact, most feared Michael Keaton in the role, because we thought of him as a comedy actor primarily, and we were pleasantly surprised. We also knew Val Kilmer and George Clooney, the followup Batmans (Batmen?). Of course, those movies sucked the mop (copyright 1972-2002 by Jay L. Zilber).

So, producers, please hear my plea, which is rooted happily in my Y chromosomes: Catherine Zeta-Jones. Please. She looks like Diana Prince, at least the way I remember her.

ARMAGEDDON?

It's hard to believe the world isn't coming to an end, not if you read the news these days. Tanks are rolling into Bethlehem, providing some iconoclast a wonderfully ironic visual counterpoint to a classic Christmas carol next holiday season. It looks like weapons of mass destruction will rain from Baghdad to Teheran and everywhere in between.

And I'm not even compelled to write about that. No, it turns out that, not only are we hurtling toward insane destruction for religious purposes only, we're adding to the mix by cloning ourselves. It was announced today that the first human female is pregnant with a human clone.

So many scientific advances made in the previous century made sense… organ transplants, vaccines, even the human genome project in and of itself. But there is no valid purpose to cloning human beings. Nobody needs an exact duplicate of himself. There are too many human infants on the planet who aren't properly cared for to begin with without adding artificially created ones into the mix.

But more to the point, the whole reason evolution works is that each generation of births is an improvement on previous generations. If we begin to clone ourselves, we stop dead in the genetic pool, evolutionarily speaking.

Then again, if we're going to be incinerating the planet in the name of minuscule dfferences in the perception of the deity, then what the heck.

DO WE EVEN REMEMBER THAT WE LIVE IN A REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT?

I love baseball. Baseball is just as was said in Field of Dreams, a thing that connects us all to our country's past, a thing that connects us to our fathers and their fathers. Baseball is the American game. Bunting, banners, color guard, even presidents throwing out the first ball, all are a wonderful part of the tradition of American baseball.

So you can imagine that I'm anxiously awaiting the playing of tonight's opening game at Anaheim's Edison International Field.

And you can imagine how horribly depressed I was to see President Dumbya on the giant television screen at Edison Field, as large as any banner ever flown with a picture of Mao Tse-tung or Saddam Hussein.

Why are we, as a nation, so inclined to deify presidents when we fought a revolution 226 years ago to do away with despots? Am I being overly sensitive? Perhaps. I just know I like it when our president's visage doesn't look over throngs of thousands like he's the Ayatollah Khomeini of the United States.

SMALL FOOTNOTE TO OPENING DAY RANT

President Dumbya aside, the Angels now appear to be wearing major league uniforms again. Good for them.

COULD A STATUE OF SUPERMAN HAVE SAVED US ON SEPTEMBER 11?

Sometimes I'm behind, what can I say? I read today that Minneapolis, on May 8, will unveil a statue of Mary Richards (viz., Mary Tyler Moore) in her signature fling-her-hat-into-the-air pose from the opening credits of the 1970s Mary Tyler Moore Show.

That's wonderful.

Then, I read further, the statue is a gift from the TV Land cable network. Apparently it has a "landmarks" project, and "Mar" (as Murray called her) isn't the only television sitcom character to make it to bronze. In 2000, TV Land gifted New York's Port Authority Bus Terminal with a statue of loveable buffoon bus driver Ralph Kramden (viz., Jackie Gleason) from the classic show, The Honeymooners.

Having had my photograph taken in Tokyo as I stood next to an eight-foot bronze statue of Superman outside the Warner Bros. Store, it's plain that this idea charms me.

I don't know the marketing guys at TV Land (if they're listening, hey, call me), but if I could talk to them, here'd be some statues on my short list:

- Fox Mulder from The X-Files outside the FBI Building in Washington, DC. (It would need to be backlit in blue.)
- Adam West from 1966-68's Batman outside any Gold's Gym.
- Archie Bunker from All In The Family at 125th Street and Lenox Avenue in New York's Harlem.
- Barney Miller from the show of the same name to sit at a giant desk at 1 Police Plaza in New York City.
- Ricky Ricardo from I Love Lucy at Miami International Airport.
- Perry Mason from the show of the same name doing a little cross-examining outside the Los Angeles County Courthouse.
- Hawkeye Pierce of M*A*S*H outside the Veterans Administration Building in Washington, DC. (Smaller ones could be scattered at every VA hospital in the country.)
- Sgt. Bilko at the main entrance to the Pentagon in Arlington, VA.
- JR from Dallas in dowtown Big D (if there is such a place) and Capt. Nelson from I Dream of Jeannie at the Kennedy Space Center in Cape Canaveral, FL. (Or maybe it would be fun to switch the two.)

Your suggestions?