Television serves many purposes aside from just entertainment. It informs and instructs, as best it can.
I
am sure that social anthropology draws a direct correlation between
society and the impact certain programs, or in fact, all programs, have
on the changing of attitudes of said society.
We all
know how the 1970s saw an explosion of programs where black people were
suddenly the protagonists and not merely bystanders.
Whether a
reflection of the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s, or just an effort
to cash in on a growing trend, the fact is that these shows did their
fair share in normalizing, or helping to normalize, race relations in
America.
‘Good Times’ was certainly one of my favorites as a kid in the 1980s. But I also enjoyed ‘The Jeffersons’.
Of
course, at the time, I saw them as merely entertaining television. I
was too young to think about watching a ‘black’ sitcom, or a ‘black’
anything. I was just watching TV.
In
my mind, then and now, these were just television shows which made me
laugh. I was not interested in categorizing them in any particular way.
They weren’t white, or black, or gay, or anything other than just
television.
Pioneer
The cast of ‘Brothers’And although television has dabbled with gay shows before, in fact as late back as the 1980s with Showtime’s Brothers
-which was the first time I saw a gay sitcom-, it still has floundered
here and there with a successful formula or with the public’s acceptance
of it.
Granted, Queer as Folk was a good show (although never as good as the British original), as were the L-Word and the magnificent Will & Grace but, of course, there’s always room for improvement.
There’s always other aspects which can be looked at.
There’s always something new to add.
Looking
So it was with some interest, and trepidation, that I started to watch ‘Looking’ about a month ago.
I taped the whole series (all 8 episodes) and, slowly, started watching it.
It follows the lives of three gay men, Patrick, Agustín, and Dom in and around the city of San Francisco.
From the first episode I was a bit underwhelmed.
I found it hard to believe that an adult gay male, Patrick, would be so inept at cruising.
I suppose the scriptwriter thought it was hilarious, but I admit that I was not much amused.
And the rest of the episode sort of read as kind of a Tales of the CitycumSex and the City, minus the clever parts… off steroids.
And I had, or have, other issues with it too.
I
have to say that two weeks went by before I bothered to watch the
second episode. My heart was not on it. Yet I also didn’t erase the
show.
I just had to find the right moment.
Eventually I did.
Did the show improve?
Well, yes. Here and there. Sort of. In places.
But there were, are, things which just simply make me go hmm…
Like, for example, Richie,
a character who is very Catholic, and gay, and has no issue with the
clash between his sexuality and his faith (if he is enlightened about
it, like most gay cathols I know, it is not coming through in the show).
Not just that, he sort of likes a guy and wants him to wear an ‘escapulario’, a scapular, right away.
Is that what he asks of all his boyfriends?
Yes, I found that weird.
Also, the whole issue with Richie being uncircumcised.
What is the big deal? As far as I know, being ‘au naturelle’ in the US is seen as quite desirable in the gay world. But not this guy? Not Patrick?
And with Agustín being a non-productive artist. Or a self-defeating artist. And mostly a bit of an asshole…and yet you like him. Then you don’t.
Or with Dom liking only younger men, but somehow magically falling for Scott Bakula as Lynn.
Believable yes, but no the way it is shown on Looking.
Also, lesbians, in that great gay city, are mostly not around in this show. Yes, I get it, it is about gay men. But it just seems odd.
And…sorry but is San Francisco populated by just hispanics and whites? No black people? Nobody from Asia? Hello?
And one final also: Doris. I feel for the poor actress who plays her, Lauren Weedman. Doormat does not even begin to cover it.
Why does this character exist? All she seems to do is cater and kow tow to Dom’s every whim.
Why?
Is she his ex?
Is she secretly in love with him?
Is she just slow?
She certainly seems to be a walking car crash of a female character.
Unloved, unlikeable, and bordering on annoying.
For a fag hag, she is certainly not doing well for herself.
Finally, and call me crazy, is it too much to ask that the city’s multifaceted gay community be semi represented?
And what about the issues facing LGBT people today?
What about gay marriage? Social discrimination? Bullying? HIV?
Scott Bakula, as Lynn
None of these have been talked about yet.
Now, the positive side.
However,
I must say, that for all my complaints, for all the show’s
shortcomings, I liked it. Or at least, I like that it exists.
For one thing, it is very nice to look at.
The
cinematography is beautiful here and there. And I like that they show
you parts of the countryside around San Francisco which you don’t often
see on TV or in films.
The music is well chosen. Or if not, at least I like it.
And
the plot lines, though apparently absent at times, or just plain
convoluted others, do seem to reflect the daily lives of the characters
(all but Doris, of course).
I also like that the characters come across as regular people. Not the über-rich
A-Gay of other shows; not the to-die-for looks of stereotypical gay
characters; no VIP, glamorous lives which seem far removed from the
reality of many gay men's lives.
These three come across as regular guys with regular problems.
How
to deal with an open relationship, and yourself. How to deal with
yourself and a boyfriend-love interest of a different background from
yours and a British boss who has the hots for you. How to deal with
being a waiter at 40, trying to make it in the world, not kill your ex,
and falling for an older guy, and yourself.
At the end
of the first season it seems like all three of them have gone full
circle. Yet they are still “looking”. For love?
For solace? For answers.
Dom is going for Lynn, Agustín is out of his boyfriend’s home, and life, and living with Patrick, as he was in the beginning, and Patrick, who started the series failing Cruising 101, has graduated to cheating boyfriend, and maybe even power bottom.
Although this may not be the greatest gay show ever, I would venture that it has potential.
And
even if the show tanked, even if there is a lot of room for
improvement, as I always say, some visibility is better than NO
visibility.
Remember, Queer as Folk ended in 2005 and Will & Grace in 2006. We are in 2014, and Modern Family can only do so much.
Last year I read an article, probably written by an American author, which talked about the benefits of keeping a “blessings journal”.
This tied in with something I saw on Pinterest: a blessings jar.
The person who posted the image on that site was also American.
Is their nationality important? In a way, yes.
How could it not be?
For
some strange reason, Americans these days (and for a long time now)
seem to be intent on improving their lives (in a way other nationalities
do not, or do but differently), and they seem to think that these
little tips help them to do so.
I am not well-versed
on anyone’s life other than my own, so I don’t know if these ideas
actually help, hinder, or have no impact on the quality of life.
Nevertheless, the “blessings journal”
idea has stuck around in my head since it seems like an unusual enough
thing to do… and diametrically opposed to my usual penchant for a “Calamities & Damnations Journal.”
Although
I am not about to list the month’s blessings, the idea has inspired me
to write this post, which is just a recap of those things which have
happened in my life this month and which I think worthy of a highlight.
Looking back, it was a busier month than I originally thought.
That can only be a good thing.
1- The Choir
About
three months ago a friend of mine invited me to go along with him to
choir practice. He and his brother have been going there for about five
years, and they are always looking for male voices, he says.
He
convinced me to come along, no need to audition, and just join.
I had been in a choir in High School, and I have always loved singing, so, out of the blue came this opportunity.
I went along with him and met his buddies.
Because
we are in Spain, and I am American, they quickly asked me to help them
with their English. The choir, you see, is a Gospel choir, and most of
what they sing is in English.
So for about an hour or so, until the director arrived, I helped them out with their pronunciation.
Then
they practiced, and I stood by in a corner, listening. My friend told
the Director who I was afterwards, and he said in a very polite, yet
stern manner, that they had just had auditions, and that I could try out
in January.
So that was that.
My
friend told me that this was very unexpected, but nevertheless would
love it if I came again and helped out the choir with their English.
Which I did, over the next couple of months.
And in
December the choir had a concert, and I was there, in the audience,
listening. Afterwards some of them came up to me, like children who’ve
done something they are proud of, and asked about their performance.
“Was it good?” “Did we sing well?” “Was the English ok?”
So, slowly, I had become a sort of choir consultant.
Then, early in January, so early in fact I was still abroad, I got an email inviting me to audition.
Yes, panic mode.
I had not prepared anything and they were asking for a recording before giving me any further details.
As
soon as I got back to Madrid I contacted my friend and, together, on
the very last day of the deadline, we sent off three short songs sung
acapella.
One day later I was told to go the very next day, Sunday, and audition. Which I did.
That very afternoon the choir met for their first rehearsal of the year. And I was there, still as their ‘English’ consultant.
The
director, having heard me a few hours earlier, was very friendly, and
even said, I think in an attempt to come across as empathic, that I
should have sent the recording earlier.
So, one week later, I was told I was in the choir. So now, I sing in a gospel choir. In Madrid.
I
had my first choir rehearsal last Sunday. I knew bits of the songs,
none of the choreography, and I got to talk to other members in a more
inclusive manner.
You see, now I was officially one of them.
That felt good.
2- Breaking Bad
Perhaps
a strange thing to highlight, but I have to admit that I was the last
person on Earth to have missed every single season of this ‘cultural
phenomenon’ and to show very little interest in it.
White & Pinkerton
Some work colleagues convinced me to give it a try; so I did.
Taking
advantage of the fact that my cable provider permits me to download
entire seasons of a few, select, shows, I did, and thus far I’ve watched
the entire first season and I’ve started on season 2.
No,
I’m not impressed. It is ok, but the only character I actually like is
Walter Junior, or Flynn, as he is being called in season 2.
Skyler gets on my nerves.
As do the sister and brother-in-law characters.
We’ll see…
3- Online Mags
Ok, I love magazines, and I love online magazines. Why? The photographs look so much better!
So this month I’ve added a couple of them to my tab list: Vice and I-D.
4- Grooveshark
I am a music freak, and a fan of Spotify.
But
I can only use it on some devices, so, like a fool, I began to use the
free online service, not knowing that eventually your 20 hours are up.
Basically the same, but with no hour limit; the interface is pretty cool.
I say re discover because I came across it a few months ago but forgot about it pretty quickly.
I’ve also been listening to music sets on soundcloud. Less cool, less interface rad, but interesting sounds just the same.
As always, don’t judge a song by its album cover…though, of course, we all do.
5- Trips to the UK
Ok, last year I went to the UK only twice. May, and December. My family are still there, but I was not able to go more.
This year, however, I will be there twice before June, which is a step up from last year.
This is a highlight because I’ll be going for different reasons, at different times, and it is all sorted in early January.
So, something to look forward to.
6- Writing Vs. Life
Ok,
this is not exactly a highlight, quite the opposite.
I have not been
able to write much of my Sci-Fi novel this month.
I met up with a friend
a couple of weeks ago and managed all of 6 words.
Not good.
Nonetheless,
the highlight here is that I have managed to think about it and about
how it should develop.
In other words, although I’m not writing it, I am
plotting it out somehow, which is a positive thing.
7- Democrats Abroad
Like
a good little American, I’m in touch with an American expat
association. In this case, Democrats Abroad in Spain.
I was semi active
with them a couple of years back, but kind of stop attending the various
parties and events because they either clashed with something, I was
out of town, or I was plain tired.
Well,
a couple of months ago, DA organized a very interesting meeting at one
of the member’s home where a journalist who had just been reporting from
Syria (as a freelancer) was giving a talk on the situation there.
The other thing that I am is interested in all things foreign-affairs related.
So
meeting Anna Therese Day was a very enlightening experience. She
regaled us with the horrible tales human conflict manages to create,
with her problems getting American editors to value the work of
freelancers in the area, with the fact that, at the age of only 25, she
is already better versed on the situation there than Anderson Cooper,
and that she trains the new arrivals there. And more things.
She has a great perspective in life, and I only wish her all the best in her professional endeavors.
If you want to see what she is up to, you can follow her on twitter: @AnnaOfArabia
But
it doesn’t end there. I volunteered to be the photographer at one of
their voter registration and fundraising events, which was fun since, as
the guy with the camera standing by the photocall, you get to meet a
lot of people there. That was also a highlight since I think that,
maybe, just maybe, I made a friend. Maybe even two.
8- Instagram junkie
Ok,
this is to do more with the fact that I now have an iPhone, courtesy of
my partner, and I can do what I’ve been wanting to do for years: walk
around the city with a small camera and take snapshots of anything, and
everything, I see.
My partner says I’ve gone camera crazy.
And he is right.
9- Books junkie
One can never have enough hats, gloves and shoes, said Patsy Stone once. Nor books, say I.
After
my Christmas visit to my sister’s I am having a small percentage of my
book collection mailed over to Spain. A very small percentage.
I
have also began to rearrange some of my bookshelves at home.
Rediscovering titles I had forgotten about, and giving it a more ordered
appearance.
I have also been expanding my library this January. Here’s the link to my Shelfari,
where I’ve been uploading titles lately, in no particular order other
than the new ones get added rather quickly, and the older ones in a much
slower fashion.
Yes, Shelfari, not Goodreads, where I also have an account.
This is a bit like Beta Vs VHS.
Who’ll win?
Nobody knows but of the two I rather interact with Shelfari. I think it looks better.
10- Interior Decor
I have a sofa from Ikea, the one with the changeable covers that everyone has. But I need a new one.
Ikea sofa
So a couple of months ago I discovered a Facebook page where people sell their things. Mostly expats living in Madrid.
And this lady put a photograph of an Ikea sofa she was giving away. I was, of course, very interested, and so was everyone else.
She was a bit odd to deal with since it seemed like she was playing all interested parties against each other.
By
this I mean that she would only contact you after someone else had
dropped out of the race. Which made arrangements near nigh impossible
to make.
But I persevered. I was interested. And she was very very keen on somebody taking the couch of off her hands. Very keen indeed.
But she began to flounder.
She
began to insist I came to see/take the sofa in question.
So I asked for
another view of the sofa, since the one she had put up on facebook was a
screenshot from Ikea’s website.
She did, but it was on its side, and I could not really make it out very well. Was it the same sofa?
Once
again she was contacted by someone who could take it off her hands, so
she changed her tune with me and put me back at the end of the line.
Fine, I thought, the sofa in question did not appear to be the one I was after. But the whole thing backfired on her, again.
The person who had come to take the sofa had to return it. It was too big for her flat!
So
she was all sweetness and apologies again when she contacted me. So, I
asked her once again about the sofa model.
Was it the one from Ikea that
she originally posted on Facebook?
No, it was not. She insisted that I came and took it, but, hello? Wrong sofa = No deal.
So,
early in the month, I thought I would walk past Zara Home.
They were
having the usual January sales and I came across a sequin cushion which,
I thought, was €5,99.
When I took it to the till, it
had gone up to €19,99, which was its full price.
Like and idiot, when I
was walking around the shop the price tag fell out somewhere.
So, of course, I had
to go back to the cushions table and find another one. Which I did.
And
when I did I thought, great!, a matching pair.
No such
luck.
That one didn’t have a price tag either. So the girl at the
till called the on-duty manager, who looked at me (like they always do
in Europe) as if I was trying to put one on them, and told me I had to
pay full price for the cushions.
“So, even though your entire store is on sale, you want me to pay full price for these?”
“Oh ok, then half price.”
“Even though you have marked these down to €5,99."
“But they don’t have a sticker.”
“But that is not my problem, I am your customer and you can’t expect me to …”
And that is where I stopped talking. It was useless.
Once again Europe’s approach to customer service won out, and I walked out, minus two cushions.
But
since I am on an interior decor bender, it seems, I have started to
pick up fruit boxes (it is strawberry season in Spain!) and taking them
home.
I have been using them to hold books, mostly, and I’ve had to
fight off my cleaning lady who throws them away whenever she comes
round.
You see, once home I wash them and leave them
to dry by the kitchen window. The cleaning lady sees them and assumes
they are trash, so out they go.
11- Shoes 2014
I’m
quite lucky that I live in one of the world’s shoe powerhouses.
Spain
has some great shoe designs and this season I have found myself in need
of new shoes.
Thus
far, taking advantage of the January sales, I’ve bought a pair of dark
brown suede brogues, and a pair of Caterpillar boots, which I began
wearing back in the early 1990s and have been wearing ever since.
However,
not all is buybuybuy.
As they say, recycle or die, so I’ve also
mended the soles on another pair of dress shoes which I bought in London
about three years ago. Unlike the UK, or Texas, living in Spain means
you actually have seasons.
Brogues…
So
you have Winter shoes, and Summer shoes. So whereas a pair of shoes in
London would last months, or a year, here they last about the same
amount of time, but spread out over a couple of years.
Now
that I live in Madrid, I have discovered the short life-span of
thin-soled shoes, which tend to last but one season and hardly ever make
it to next year’s Summer season.
12- Probiotics
Over
the Christmas season I had an abscess in my mouth. Since I was
traveling so much, I found it impossible to go to the doctor, unless I
went to the ER, which would have taken out a chunk of time out of my
daily routine. I was at first in the UK, and I could not get any
antibiotics for love or toffee! I needed a prescription.
So I endured
with this thing in my mouth as best as I could.
When we got back to Spain, I was still not in Madrid, and I tried to buy antibiotics. No luck.
Thankfully
my partner’s sister was friends with a pharmacist who, and only because
I was family, gave her a box of antibiotics for me.
I was so grateful!
The
other thing this lovely pharmacist did was recommend I took
pro-biotics, to overcome the effect antibiotics have on your plumbing.
This was news to me, but I got some and, true enough, for the first time
ever I didn’t have the usual digestive tract side effects. But I did
have some new ones.
Especially the first day I started taking them.
It seems that they have a very efficient laxative effect. I was very effectively “laxed”.
13- A death in the political family
Death
is something which is with us at all times. I still don’t know how to
deal with it and my heart goes out whenever I hear somebody loses a
loved one.
This January, my partner lost an uncle.
He went home for the funeral and stayed there for the weekend.
14- Thespian Days
I love going to the theater. I love a good play. And I really appreciate good acting.
This
month, on the weekend my partner I were meant to go to the theater
together he had to go to home for a funeral (see above).
So I had three
tickets (the friend who was coming with us had to cancel too) to play
with.
I invited two friends who don’t much like each
other — which is ironic since I met one through the other– and we went
to see a play by Argentinian playwright Claudio Tolcachir: Emilia.
Emilia, Madrid cast.
The
writing was amazing, and the acting was very good too. He has very
quickly turned into one of my favorite playwrights these past few years.
The
cast (above) were all well-known Spanish actors, and the audience was,
for some strange reason, mostly retired citizens, which all three of us
thought was unusual.
15- Elliot Murphy
A few years ago, my partner and I were lucky enough to go to Paris in March, and go to Elliot Murphy’sbirthday concertat New Morning. And we did this a couple of years in a row.
This year we talked about it, but, given that the year is gearing up to be very travel heavy, we decided to skip Paris.
Oh well, no Elliot Murphy this year… or so I thought.
Turns
out he has been coming to Madrid for the past 10 years and the weekend
my partner did come, he and the friend who cancelled, and myself, all
went to the Madrid concert. And it was great.
Especially the rendition of ‘Rock Ballad’.
Masterpiece!
And
when we went out, I came across a small fruit box (this time
blueberries) which is now at home, waiting for some books to be put
inside it (see above).
16- Game of Thrones
There
are some programs which you faithfully and ardently watch, some that
you watch whenever they are on, never making all that much of an effort
to catch them, and some that just pass you by. That you just don’t
really want to engage with.
Such was the case with Breaking Bad (see above).
Everyone was watching it, and I was in some other alternative universe, bypassing all the hoopla.
This had also happened when Twin Peaks was on.
That
entire fad passed me by and I think that, thus far, I’ve only watched
about half an episode. That is not to say I didn’t like the theme tune, I
loved it and Julee Cruise.
But
that’s about as far as my involvement with that series goes (that and
the fact that I bought the first season on DVD about three years
ago-though it remains unseen).
So when Game of Thrones came out, I was a bit blah about it. What little I saw of it on TV just didn’t appeal to me.
I
ended up taping the entire first season (just in case I eventually
liked it), and, a few months after it ended, started to watch the first
episode.
I watched the first 15 minutes and switched off. I even thought of deleting the whole thing.
But
people kept saying how good it was, how I had to watch it, how I would
love it. So weeks later, maybe months, I watched the whole first
episode.
No. I was not hooked. But I decided to watch the second episode. I think I began to like it only about half way through it.
Then
I taped the second season, which is incomplete since I started watching
the first season fully halfway through it. Then the third.
So,
finally, I have been able to start watching the second season. I still
don’t think I am hooked, and the show is getting a bit too Hollywood for
my liking, but I am glad I’m watching it.
17- Aretha Franklin
So when my partner was last in Madrid we had this idea that we would go to Ikea and look at furniture.
Maybe buy an armchair. Maybe a new sofa (see above). Maybe a new mattress. So we left home and ran some quick errands throughout the city.
It
was a sunny day, like most Winter days tend to be in Madrid, and for
some reason, the temperatures were almost high. So we decided to have a
coffee before heading off to Ikea and spending the rest of the day
there. Not that we wanted to do that, we didn’t, but it is what ends up
happening every time we go.
So there we were, having a coffee, and then I said to him “Should we skip Ikea? I mean, who wants to be indoors on a day like today?”
He
laughed because he was thinking the same thing, and we decided to bail
on the Swedish smorgasbord, stopping, instead, on a nearby record shop.
Yes, records. How retro! Right?
But
no, I was not after records for their sake, I just wanted to see what
they had, and eventually I would move on to the CD section like I always
do.
So
there we were, just perusing, when I came across something I hadn’t
seen since I left the US: Aretha Franklin’s album from 1986: Aretha.
My first album of hers ever.
I
was hooked. I wanted it. I had never wanted an album cover so much
before. Something about it (Warhol, hello?) made me want to buy it.
I thought it would be interesting to put it on the wall. Album covers is such a lost art I think.
Yes, of course, CDs still keep it alive, but it is not the same thing. You can’t appreciate a great cover on a CD.
So I put it aside and continued looking. I found a couple of Grace Jones albums and thought I’d take all three.
My
partner offered to buy them, in fact, but I declined. We were having
such a nice day out that I thought I could do without them.
I didn’t want to carry things, I just wanted to enjoy myself.
So I left all three there… (to be continued).
18- Parlez-vous Français?
The other thing that happened this month is that I had a couple of friends visit Madrid. Both French.
One lives in Sitges, the other in France. But they were both here, along with two of their friends.
They
all got a place together not too far from me and they had me round for
dinner one evening; it was a great opportunity to practice my French.
And how good is my French?
Well, good enough to half argue, half coherently, on the following subjects:
Masculinity (or why do you think that being camp is not an inherent part of masculinity?); Time (or I think time is man-made and there is no such thing as time); God (or just because the Bible says things happened and certain people lived does not actually mean that things did happen or that those people actually existed).
I tried to put my points across on these major subjects (but there were others– such as Mylène Farmer, for or against?) as best as I could with varying degrees of success.
On the masculinity front, it was 5 against one (not me). On the God thing, it was, again, five against one (again, not me) and on the time thing, it was three against two, and one undecided.
No,
you never know how bad your French is until you realize you can’t
explain why you think time does not exist and you have to switch to
English to get your point across... to a group of people whose first
language is not English…
My bad.
19- Home blackout!
And just the other day I came home to a dark apartment. What a surprise that was!
I wasn’t sure what the problem could be since the lights in the landing were on and I came up on the elevator.
So I called the light company only to be told that since there was not a problem in the building, I was on my own.
“Call your insurance company. The meter is not out resposibility”.
So
I finally used a candle a dear friend of mine from Mexico gave me when I
first moved to Spain years ago and which had remained unused.
Yes, gifts eventually come into their own. Somehow.
I
also had some unused tea lights somewhere and, I don’t know how since I
don’t smoke, I found a lighter in one of the kitchen drawers.
So
I called my partner, who gave me the number for the insurance company,
and called. They would be round in about three hours or less.
The electrician called and said he’d be round in an hour and a half more or less. In the meantime I was in the dark.
It
was interesting being at home with the lights out. At first, before I
lit the candles, I was just enjoying, albeit briefly, the semi-darkness
of the rooms. I live on a fourth floor studio flat, and the street
lights managed somehow to light up the space. I could have sat there for
a while, but I would have fallen asleep very quickly, and I would have
gotten cold very quickly too.
My iPhone was almost out
of juice, and the candles were starting to make me wheezy. I am
asthmatic, so I can’t be around too many candles. Especially not
paraffin candles.
So, I took my Mac, put a coat on, and left the apartment.
I
went to Café Figueroa, my new writing destination, and stayed there for
about 40 minutes. I didn’t want the electrician to have to wait and
leave.
So I went back and sat in the dark for a while.
Eventually the electrician came round.
He buzzed and I let him in. I expected him to come straight up, but he went, as I foud out later, right for the meter room.
He called me.
“Hello, I’m going back to my van. They’ve taken your fuses.”
That I was not expecting.
Within 10 minutes the lights came back.
He came up and I signed a paper.
“One of your neighbors must have taken it.”
“Did they take anyone else’s?”
“I don’t know, I just checked yours.”
No time for chit chat. He was in a hurry.
20- Epiphany
My last hightlight of the month is really one of the first ones.
My partner and I organized a dinner party for Epiphany, just like we did last year.
At
last year’s event, we asked our guests to bring along those gifts they
had received throughout the year which were just gathering dust at home
and they had no clue what to do with them.
At that event, and following the rules, one of our friends left home with 4 identical leather wallets.
All in all it had been a great party.
So this year we thought we would do the same.
I have to say that, as far as I’m concerned, I did’t do too badly.
My favorite gift this year? A rainbow-colored plastic slinky.
There’s something about it which makes me keep coming back for more. But why?
It
was my birthday a couple of days ago and my partner had a gift vooucher
which expired on the same day. We rushed to Barcelona’s FNAC
to get me some sort of quick-lets-not-waste-it! last-minute gift.
First
we went to the book section, and the book I had in mind, one about one
of Spain’s best illustrators from the 1930s, Carlos Saenz de Tejada,
was out of stock. So we went to the CD section. Couldn’t find anything I
liked -these days, with Spotify on my mind, I buy less and less music.
So off to the DVD section.
Yes,
I’m one of those people who likes buying DVDs, and I especially like
television series. And these days, I am especially hooked on those
series from my childhood, which were not exactly of my time. What do I
mean?
I mean that when I was a kid, my television programs were mostly 1950s cartoons, and 1960s series.
I
Dream of Jeannie, Bewitched, Gilligan’s Island, Batman, Get Smart,
Daniel Boone, The Flying Nun, Petticoat Junction, The Beverly Hills
Hillbillies, The Outer LImits,That Girl!, The Lucy Show, Lost in Space,
The Dick van Dyke Show &c.
So, when given a choice between Modern Family (3rd Season) and The Twilight Zone (Season 1), I chose the latter.
I suppose that having a degree in History predisposes me towards these, for me anyway, visual documents of another era.
I
enjoy looking at how those cars I used to dislike as a child, but love
as an adult, moved. I like seeing how people drove. How they dressed,
what they ate. Even how they spoke. Television English is a very
interesting thing to listen to. So different from today’s colloquial
television English — where everybody has a California accent.
Acting,
obviously, has changed a lot since then too. When a woman (and it is
always women), has a breakdown in 1960s land, she often falls into the
arms of a man, then everything is ok.
In 2013, she goes on a drinking/screwing/shoplifting binge.Then a man turns her in the right path, and everything is ok.
I
like the furnishings of the homes, the way the clothes move, the games
children played. As I kid, I am not sure I understood at first that
these shows were from the 1960s. In many cases, the shows themselves
were in their teens back then, it was the beginning of syndication.
We
all know how I Dream of Jeannie had a bigger audience during re-runs in the 1970s than when it actually aired.
But
it is more than just the visuals. It is the ideas of the time. The
anthropological aspect of these shows is astounding. Not many black
people, respectable women behaved and dressed in a certain way. As did
men. To say nothing of the worries and issues of the time.
Watching
1960s Sci-Fi TV is also very enlightening.
Lost in Space dealt with
being shipwrecked in an alien planet, a similar concept to Gilligan’s
Island. In both shows a group of people must survive and overcome their
respective personality traits in unfamiliar territory.
What
were the worries of the time? That Earth would blow up and we would
fight for our survival? That a group of strangers who met on a boat
would be able to survive on a desert island? That the rich can be of
help? That a robot can both be our salvation, as well as the instrument
of our destruction?
And what about
traditional gender roles? And the idea about what constitutes, and what
doesn’t, a family? Ideas surrounding friendship, and, of course, the
supernatural.
These ideas are, today
anyway,less of an issue on television, but that does not mean they are
not out there, that we have stopped thinking about them, but our worries
are different. We no longer worry about the superpower conflict, but we
do worry about being killed by a terrorist. Or about being kidnapped
and being retained against our will. Or being shot by a psycho sniper.
Or…
So many things are going on today that
looking at old 1960s tv is a very definite form of escapism. But also, a
source of intrigue.
Were people back then not worried about issues like
our own? Being worried about death, about being abducted and killed,
about abusive parents, alcoholic partners, about rape and incest, about
poverty, were more than likely things people thought about back then,
but, for a variety of reasons, were not talked about, or dealt with.
So
when I watch these shows, I am obviously doing so for more than just
one reason. It is not just leisure, it is not just curiosity, it is also
a certain concern with the missing parts.
The complete abscence of gay people, the limited appearence of black people, the almost complete abscence of any other minority, of a social discourse.
Why weren’t those things talked about?
In reference to being asked about the significance of the French Revolution, Zhou Enlai -Communist China’s premier from 1949 to 1976- is often quoted as having said that, , “it is too soon to say”.
I
can’t help but wonder if this is still the case with the 1960s today.
As a historian, I would agree. And as a Journalist, I would disagree.
I first heard this name in the mid 1980s. I was living in Texas then. I remember watching her show with utter fascination as a kid. I liked her voice, her demeanor, her manner.
I left the US to go and live in the UK, and, within a few years, she was there too, albeit with less success than in the US. Perhaps the American tendency to be touchy-feely about things, the great need to bring psychology to fix and explain all problems, proved too much for the British public.
I remember too how other programs made it big in the UK in the 1990s. There was, first of all, The Jerry Springer Show. Oh I we laughed, and cringed with shame and pain, at the sight of America’s Whitest and Trashiest on television.
On-screen violence, it was discovered, was a great crowd puller. To say nothing of all the insults which got bleeped out show after show.
It was repetitive in that the same sort of problems showed up. People who slept with relatives, men who slept with men whom they thought were women, long lost relatives fighting over who knows what. In short, people who went on television to sort out a problem the old fashioned way: with violence and insults. Touchy feely only in that you got hit and you felt it.
Then there was Jenny Jones. Interesting, and a couple of steps up on the social scale. But she was always so frail. Nonetheless, watchable enough. Being frail and open is not a negative.
And Ricky Lake. Gay friendly, fat friendly, girl friendly, mother friendly, tv friendly.
But I think we all liked her better on the silver screen.
We do owe her one key 1990s idea: the makeover!
On her show you could bring your old tattered mother who looked like a tired, run over, 1950s Vegas stripper, give her over to Ricky Lake’s staff, and return home with a cleaner, more updated version of the poor woman. Or your boyfriend. Or your Gothic daughter. Or your slimy boyfriend. Or his boyfriend!
Finally, there was the Oh-how-very-sanctimonious-holier-than-thou Sally Jesse Raphael.
Sally Jesse was like that bitch of a teacher you had in Elementary School who was always right. Always had the last word. Always tried for you to improve yourself. And when you didn’t, she came down on you like a ton of bricks.
Was she watchable? Was she ever. Like a car crash!
I mean, how could you not watch, perplexed, someone who defied the aging process? And in designer gear!
However, all along the line, Oprah remained a cut above the rest somehow.
Her show, which was always on again, off again in the UK, was always aimed at people who were aspirational.
It didn’t matter what your background was when you were on Oprah because being on Oprah meant that, by default, you were elevated from your social status immediately. To hers. A bit like Colonel Pickering, who would talk to a flower girl as though she were a lady.
You too were then a celebrity. Oprah always brings you up to her level. And unknowingly so. That of a rich celebrity. A well-to-do, upper middle America, normal person.
Because Oprah is nothing if she's not normal. Her reactions, her feelings, her ups and downs, are all normal. She is not what I'd call pretentious in the slightest.
Perhaps it was this elevation which made people tune in. Oprah is not for intellectuals, it is for people who aspire to know and understand what intellectuals were about. At least at first.
She even has a book club which recommends which books, and thoughts and ideas, your new-found social group cares for.
On Oprah I saw how racist people tried to make sense of their ideas by saying things like, “I don’t like blacks, but I like you. You are not like them”.
Is this not amazing? I think she did more for what is know in America as “race-relations” than any piece of legislation or Governmental goodwill.
I always liked her. So did my family. We all still do.
But because I live in Spain, I can’t watch her show any longer.
And I miss it.
I will miss it even more after 2011 because the queen of all talk shows started to say goodbye today.
On that year, 2011, she will tape her last show and concentrate on her new channel.
I am amazed at how long she has been a part of my life- over 20 years!
I have suffered with her when her weight you-yoed. I was with her, side by side, when she championed civil rights, when she had KKK members on her show, when she tried to help people.
I think this is probably what I will miss most, her ability to help people. I have seen so many shows where she helped others.
Most of all, she helps you to be yourself, whomever you might be. And that is great. I have to say, 2011 will be the end of an era. It will represent the end of a show, but much more. It will be a milestone of sorts.
Suddenly, we will all realize how far away we've come by her side. And how far we'll go without her.
Television in Spain is quite bad. There are reasons why this is, but I won't go into them right now. Lets just say that 'the cheaper the better' goes a long way here. Why invest in quality programming when they'll buy whatever you make on the cheap?
Local programming extends mostly to what is known as "prensa del corazón" (literally, press of the heart - meaning A, B, C, D and E- list celebrities, their lives and loves and those of their maids, cooks, body guards &c.) or "prensa rosa" (pink press, and no, no gay connotations), and some Spanish-produced sitcoms and tv series of various degrees of quality.
Oh, yes, and game-shows which tend to give out good prices and usually loads of money.
Cultural programs in Spain, something everyone I know wishes there were more of- are ubiquitous because of their almost complete absence, though , of course, there are exceptions. Children's programs are also quite good though Saturday mornings are not wall-to-wall cartoons and zany contests.
Serious news programs à la20/20 or similar, however, are top-notch. A very good example of this is Informe Semanal. Very very good. But not very many of them as a whole.
I find it odd that this country can produce such good informative shows and at the same time it feeds its housewives (for they are the main audience for the 'press of the heart') absolute drivel.
When I moved to Madrid, I installed a Digital Television decoder. Here too Spanish television often lets me down.
Some channels show Mexican and Latin American programming (mostly soaps) and others show sport. I also watch Sony television, which emits in dual-band.
This means I can switch (something I never do) between English and dubbed-into-Spanish dialogue. It shows old sitcoms like 'Mad about you', 'Will and Grace' and things like 'Providence', which I don't watch.
Unfortunately most of these channels are very dependent on the most God-awful info-mertial and 'quick-buck' endless shows. The kind where you play hangman and people call in continuously until all possible options are exhausted. Call and win! they say. I don't know if people win, I never tune in for that long.
This means two things, one, I buy a lot of DVDs: comedy shows, series and movies, mostly US and British stuff. And two, whenever Spanish television shows an American show, I am glued to the screen. Just like in back in the UK, another country with bad television- though to their credit, not as bad.
Yes, great comedy, yes. The British do great comedy. But guess what? they also produce a lot of bad and uninspiring stuff. And I remember watching mostly Channel 4 there because it showed mostly US-made programs.
But back to Spain. Since last year I've been hooked on Medium, Nip/Tuck and Desperate Housewives. I have not been able to get into House (mostly because it is only broadcast dubbed into Spanish), Queer as Folk US version (ditto on the reasons why not), or Lost, wich I find exasperating. Sorry fans.
It is a sort of toned down Ab Fab meets You can't do that on television. Too much fantasy stuff goes on to compare it to the Colombian original (though much better than Spain's version of that soap). It is glamorous, and also innocent.
However, although it portrays very obviously gay characters homosexuality seems to be taboo. In a fash-mag. Can you believe it?
It also stars, unfortunately, this Australian actor who starred in the ozzy soap Neighbours for ages. as Mr. Mead, owner of the magazine.
He only has one emotion, and one look. He does have, however, a deep voice and provided he does not speak for long, or not at all, can be believable as a multimillionaire magazine owner who's just lost his lover (...or has he?).
It also stars Vanessa Williams who is really the best actress in the show. She aims for comedy, but is in fact much too good a serious actress to let herself go. And you have to love her for it.
And Salma Hayek, who somehow manages to play herself (as well as produce the show) all through the show. I have to say though, she, like Julia Roberts, is very good at being herself, so no harm done.
So this year we thought we would do the same.
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