Let me get this straight: First the guy crashes that Staten Island ferry? Then he runs home but has to break in because he forgot his keys? Then he tries to commit suicide by slashing both wrists and shooting himself with a pellet gun? Twice? And he lives?

Can’t this guy get anything right???

Being a big Seal fan, Beth had to run right out and buy his new CD. Seal was a major component of the soundtrack of our lives when we were first starting out together, so it’s nice to have new stuff from him to listen to.

But there is one sour note. It’s a shallow one, but it’s there nonetheless. The cover of his new CD Seal IV is embossed. His facial scars, specifically.

Ew.

One of the more popular pages in the ever-popular deadpan.net domain is my Sitcom Format 101 page. That’s where I make like the Oracle and give examples of proper script format and advice on getting started writing for sitcoms. (Given my lack of success to date in that endeavor this advice might be suspect, but some of it actually is pretty solid.) It’s this advice that generates more email than anything else on the entire site, more than even the Mojave Phone Booth page ever did, and that was a Cool Site of the Year nominee. The thing is that almost all of this email reveals that aspiring writers are extremely fooking stoopid.

The highlights from the advice I give are:

1. Move to LA if you want to write for TV.
2. Do not send your spec scripts to the shows they’re written for.
3. Do not write a pilot as a spec.

I think it’s pretty straightforward advice and I think I wrote it pretty clearly. When I read it over, as I do almost every time I get a stoopid fooking email, I just can’t see why there’s any confusion. And yet there must be, because I am asked the same questions over and over and over and over again:

1. Do I really have to move to LA to write for TV?
2. So you’re saying I shouldn’t send The Simpsons my Simpsons spec?
3. I’ve got a great idea for a pilot. Should I write it?

Those are the top three. I also get a lot of “I’m not a writer and I don’t want to be one, but I have a great idea for a sitcom. How can I get someone to write it for me?” and “Do you have any samples of sitcom format?” but those are the most frequent. I understand now why it’s so hard to get a script to anyone in this town: writers are fooking stoopid.

Here’s the latest submission, received just this morning:

Hello,
I was just perusing your page, and I have a question about specs.
>>>>Don’t send your “Friends” to “Friends”…or your “Ellen” to “Ellen,”

I have written a script for Law and Order: Criminal Intent, but you’re saying that I should not send it to that show?

Fooking. Stoopid.

She actually copy and pasted from my page to ask me the question and answered herself as she did it — and still asked the question. And she went downstairs to the sub-sub-subgenius basement in asking me this question in the first place since my page is clearly about sitcoms and she’s asking me about a 1-hour drama!

Fooking. Stoopid.

I used to politely answer these idiots, but I quickly ran out of patience with that. I’m still struggling to be the Nice Guy and just delete them unanswered. But one of these days I’m going to give in to my primal urge. One of these days I’m going to answer them:

1. Do I really have to move to LA to write for TV?

Oh no, you don’t, I meant everyone else. You are such a natural talent that you’ll be able to work from anywhere in the world. You’ll be hired sight (and spec) unseen and will be able to work a deal where you can be teleconferenced in on table reads and brainstorming sessions and rehearsals and all the other bullshit that most writers have to actually be present for. You can break into Hollywood from the comfort of Bumfuck, IA, so don’t even think about inconveniencing yourself for a career many people would kill for.

2. So you’re saying I shouldn’t send The Simpsons my Simpsons spec?

Did I say that? Shit, I’m sorry, that was a typo. I meant you should definitely send your specs to the show they’re written for. That part where I said the show’s producers don’t want to see it because they know they can’t be impartial and would rather see something from a different show was just a joke. You should definitely send it in. Yours will be different; they’ll love it.

3. I’ve got a great idea for a pilot. Should I write it?

Yes. Immediately. Tell me what network and night you want it to be on and I’ll start working my contacts while you’re writing so we can lock it into the lineup. It’s sure to be pure fucking genius, so there’s not a moment to waste. This will be the show that changes the world, I can just feel it.

If I’ve learned one thing from this webpage, it’s this: No good deed goes unpunished.

I shamelessly stole the following from a blog I found through Movable Type:

After every flight, pilots fill out a form called a gripe sheet, that conveys to the mechanics problems encountered with the aircraft during the flight that need repair or correction. The mechanics read and correct the problem, and then respond in writing on the lower half of the form what remedial action was taken, and the pilot reviews the gripe sheets before the next flight. Never let it be said that ground crews and engineers lack a sense of humor. Here are some actual logged maintenance complaints and problems as submitted by Quantas’ pilots and the solution recorded by maintenance engineers. By the way, Quantas is the only major airline that has never had an accident.

(P = The problem logged by the pilot.)
(S = The solution and action taken by the mechanics.)

P: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.
S: Almost replaced left inside main tire.

P: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.
S: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.

P: Something loose in cockpit.
S: Something tightened in cockpit.

P: Dead bugs on windshield.
S: Live bugs on back-order.

P: Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent.
S: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.

P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.
S: Evidence removed.

P: DME volume unbelievably loud.
S: DME volume set to more believable level.

P: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.
S: That’s what they’re there for.

P: IFF inoperative.
S: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.

P: Suspected crack in windshield.
S: Suspect you’re right.

P: Number 3 engine missing.
S: Engine found on right wing after brief search.

P: Aircraft handles funny.
S: Aircraft warned to straighten up, fly right, and be serious.

P: Target radar hums.
S: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.

P: Mouse in cockpit.
S: Cat installed.

P: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.
S: Took hammer away from midget.

Listening to more John Mayer tonight and it’s still getting an emotional response. I really like his music; I’ve just about worn out his first CD and this new one is now in heavy rotation. This kid is either wise beyond his years or I’m a pathetic 40-year old luzer because I’m inspired by a 26-year old’s music. Maybe both. Whatever, his stuff strikes a chord in me and that’s what matters to me.

Something’s Missing
John Mayer

How come everything I think I need
Always comes with batteries?

I copied these lyrics directly from the CD insert (except the last two verses, which I transcribed from the song itself). I had to go to the insert to get them right: every single lyric web page I went to had them wrong. The second verse, the one that starts with being dizzy from the shopping mall, most got wrong as:

A desert frown, the shopping malls
I search for joy, then plot it out.
And all is well, I can?t complain.
It is just a game, it’s just a phase.

And the verse that makes up the heart of the song, the one this entry’s title is from, was most commonly presented as:

And it all comes, it doesn’t last
It just walks in, with a bad you lash
And you never know, when it starts
until this fog inside the glass around your summer heart

Yeah, “a bad you lash.” Whatever the hell that is. Sounds like another entry for the Archive Of Misheard Song Lyrics.

“Sounds like.” Ha.

Speaking of music…

I was Googling old friends and acquaintances the other day (what, like you’ve never done it?) and I found one of my old high school buddies. There were four of us who ran together back then: me, Alex, James, and Rick. (James moved away during our senior year, so me, Alex and Rick were really the core group.) I remember we used to come up with goofy group nicknames for ourselves — as the Blues Brothers we were Jake (me), Elwood (Rick) and Manny (the brother we invented for Alex); inspired by Battlestar Galactica we were Starbuck, Boomer and Skylar (BG fangeeks, please ignore the fact that Starbuck was a female character and that there was no Skylar); during our “Flavin” phase (take the first syllable of your name and and “boflavin” to the end) we were Riboflavin, Jimboflavin, Alboflavin and, uh, Chuboflavin (I was not a fan of the Flavin thing). We had a corner of the student parking lot staked out for ourselves and used to spray-paint our noms de jour on “our” spaces. We were pretty much inseparable. Until graduation. That very day we scattered to the wind.

I looked Alex up about 10 years ago, found him living in San Francisco, and went up there for a weekend visit. When we said our goodbyes we swore to keep in touch — but we didn’t. James called me out of the blue about two years ago and we talked on the phone for about an hour and swore we’d keep in touch — but we didn’t. Rick looked me up a few months later via classmates.com and it turned out he lives in Dallas and I was flying there for my job every two weeks, so we got together for dinner and swore to keep in touch — but we didn’t. Like I said in my bio, I’m not very good at being friends — or friendly, for that matter.

So years have gone by since I’ve seen or spoken with any of these guys. I was the only one of the group at both our 10 and 20 year high school reunions. The Flavin Brothers are ancient history. That’s okay, I’m fine with that, but I still wonder about them sometime. So I Googled. And I found Alex.

In high school he was just starting to play the bass and wanting to be a musician. Ten years ago he was doing the struggling musician thing up in San Francisco. Now he’s in a band called Laughingstock, they’re recording and releasing CDs, and they’re really good! He has some samples on his web page, so I downloaded them and I love them. I wondered at first if I liked the songs because I wanted to like them, but I’ve had them stuck in my head for three days and playing in my mental mp3 player during my rides to and from work, so it’s because they’re good. I like them so much I want to write a movie so I can use them in the soundtrack.

I emailed him through the contact link on his band’s page but I haven’t heard back. Maybe I won’t. Probably I won’t. That’s okay, I might not answer if it were him writing me. I just like knowing that he’s still making music and doing it well. I don’t know why I feel this way, and frankly it surprises me that I do, but knowing he’s still chasing his dream makes me happy.

Click on the titles to hear Like Texas and River Rushing, my favorites of the songs I downloaded from his page. I’m sure Alex wouldn’t mind me posting it here — any publicity is good publicity, right? — but I’ll take it down if he asks.

But he’d have to write to me to do that, wouldn’t he? Ha.

Say it ain’t so, JLo!

Reports are surfacing that America’s favorite couple (yours and mine, and your neighbor’s too!), Ben and Jen, are splitting up.

Sigh… I guess fairy tale romances just can’t survive in today’s paparazzi-scarred celebrity universe. Who could have seen this coming? I feel like I’ve been blindsided.

::sniff::

I so felt their love!

Wah!!!!!!

Dreadful news came from Zoe’s school today. The lovely Sherilyn‘s kid will not be attending after all.

Damn.

I was so looking forward to PTA meetings. And bake sales. And the school picnic. And the car wash fundraiser I was planning. Especially the car wash.

Sigh…

Susie Lee done fell in love;
She planned to marry Joe.
She was so happy ’bout it all
She told her Pappy so.

Pappy told her, “Susie gal,
You’ll have to find another.
I’d just as soon your Ma don’t know,
But Joe is your half brother”

So Susie put aside her Joe
And planned to marry Will.
But after telling Pappy this,
He said, “There’s trouble still…

You can’t marry Will, my gal,
And please don’t tell your Mother,
But Will and Joe and several more
I know is your half brother”

But Mama knew and said, “My child,
Just do what makes you happy.
Marry Will or marry Joe.
You ain’t no kin to Pappy.”

Attention 80’s junkies: Enough with the covers and remakes!

There are two songs on the radio these days that annoy the piss out of me: Sugar Ray’s cover of Joe Jackson’s Is She Really Going Out With Him? and The Ataris’ cover of the Don Henley classic Boys of Summer. These are two songs that A) should never have been covered, and B) should never have been covered so badly. These covers are soul-less, bland, color-by-numbers crap and they’re just WRONG.

I think I’m annoyed by them because they’re so empty. Boys of Summer always takes me back to my short stint living in Reno, NV in ’85 or so, when hearing it on the radio would make me painfully homesick and remind me of the girl I left behind in L.A., and Is She Really Going Out With Him brings back memories of a warm summer night in Canyon Country a few years later, driving home with the sunroof open from dropping off the much-too-young-for-me girl I was dating at the time. Both songs serve as emotional landmarks for me, both are infused with meaning.

But the covers… They’re just … dead. Sugar Ray’s is overproduced to within an inch of its life, with echoes and goofy modem-connecting sound effects trying to make up for his thin, reedy voice, and The Ataris seem to think that speeding the tempo and hitting all the beats with their psuedo driving electric guitar makes up for the by-the-numbersness of their embarrassment of a performance. Neither song comes even close to matching the heart of the original.

The same thing is happening in movies; they’re remaking movies that can’t possibly be as good as — let alone better — than the original: Rollerball. The In-Laws. Planet of the Apes. And this is where my real fear is. I can deal with lame artists doing lame covers of songs they shouldn’t be allowed to listen to, let alone play, but remaking classic movies has to stop.

There’s a whole crop of 80’s movies that are ripe for the remaking that I hope are left alone, especially the John Hughes library: Breakfast Club. Pretty in Pink. Sixteen Candles. Those movies defined the 80’s, they should be left unsullied — but probably won’t be. I see an inevitable trauma on the horizon, a remake of the sine qua non of 80’s cinema, and when it happens I promise you I’ll crawl under the covers and moan for a week. Two words:

Ferris Bueller.

Starring Frankie Muniz, no doubt.

Please, God, no.