Platform Rise, Talent Dies

I started off this week with a bang then quickly ran into responsibility roadblocks. My rewrite had to take a back seat to doctors, drugs -- their compatibility, reactions, side effects -- insurance companies, insurance agents, state laws, federal laws, Google Google Google, window manufacturing companies, window salesmen, window project managers, banks, diet books, diet shopping, diet menus, diet cooking, kids, kids, kids. Draining.

About the only "me" time was spent at the salon, which as you know is really not the way I prefer to spend my time, so really my roots should fall under the responsibility roadblock too. By the way I went darker again, more of a dark chocolate. It's only a matter of time before I wind up at black and then go back to platinum again.

The other "me" time was spent while researching any of the above on-line. By now you know the big buzz in the book and blog biz is Snooki snagged a book deal. No it's not going to be a pop-up -- it will be a novel about love. "Move over Nicole Richie...My book is gonna fistpump yours. I'm dancing all the way to the bank, bitch!"



With my pathetic schedule while living in one city, I could barely fit in time for 5,000 words this week. With her frantic schedule, appearances, partying and cityhopping, how in the world will poor Snooki ever find the time to write? Of course, we all know she most likely/definitely will have the help/entire book written by a ghostwriter. I seriously doubt Snooki will be revising, editing, looking for that perfect word in a tiny lonely home office. I could just see her, pickle in hand saying, "I already know what's in it. I wrote the freaking thing, why would I need to read it?"

The reason Snooki got a book contract is based solely on platform. It has nothing to do with literature talent. Her talent lies in attracting an audience, and a huge one at that. It's the money, not the message. And it's frustrating. Authors spend months and years trying to perfect their books, and then many more trying to get it even looked at. I doubt Snooki knew how to create the elusive perfect query letter that unpublished writers have read so much about. Unless there happened to be an agent sitting next to her at the salon, club or hot tub, I doubt she researched who would be the "best fit" for her, and who would request a partial. All Snooki, or whoever came up with the "Let's write a book!" idea, had to do to get book industry interest was present her platform. That was enough.

With this new breed of celebreality "authors" snagging contracts so quickly before their fame wanes, I fear the publishing industry's preference is heading into a dark scenario for "nobody" writers -- platform rise, talent dies.

Sad Day in the Entertainment World

It's a sad day in the entertainment world...

Tony Curtis is dead at the age of 85...



Comedian Greg Giraldo is dead at the age of 44...



And 22 year old Snooki of Jersey Shore fame, is not only still alive but has been awarded a publishing contract from Simon & Schuster to write not a memoir, but a novel.



Obviously the book publishing giant has raised its standards and was impressed by Snooki's intelligence as evidenced by these quotes from her:

•I feel like a pilgrim from the friggin’ 20’s washing sh*t right now.

•I don’t go tanning tanning anymore because Obama put a 10% tax on tanning. I feel like he did that intentionally for us, like McCain would never put a 10% tax on tanning.. because he is pale and he would probably wanna be tanned.

•The glasses are pretty much all crystalled out, all bling-bling, but when you put them on you can’t really see.. so I don’t think you can't drive with them.. because you’ll get a ticket.

The sad thing is Snooki, who will clearly have a ghostwriter, will become a best-selling author. The last episode of Jersey Shore had 6.4 million viewers. If Snooki pens a pop-up book she'll sell millions.

No, the clip below isn't one of the thousands of talented authors who have been working on their books for years struggling to find an agent and/or publisher after hearing about Snooki's deal...but it could be...

Roanoke Hails Seinfeld

Roanokers hailed Seinfeld last night as he performed for about an hour to a packed house at the Performing Arts Center. This was the first time I've been to that part of the Civic Center and gotta say I was pleasantly surprised. It was much more comfortable than the arena. I don't know if that's because I was in the fourth row or not, but it was great to be able to stretch out my legs. Great seats, but maybe a little over-priced for an hour and fifteen minute's worth of laughter, but then again, it was Seinfeld, so really it was fine by me.

When we arrived and I head the Frank Sinatra songs belting out I turned to my husband and said after, "New York, New York" the show will start. "How do you know?" "I'm a New Yorker, Jerry's a New Yorker, Frank's a New Yorker, of course that's what's gonna happen." And it did.

Another Jewish comedian, whose name I don't know opened up as soon as the last "New York" was belted out. He was pretty funny, although I don't think the crowd appreciated the "Roanoke even has a barber shop" comment. I had a feeling he was going to do more small town or Southern bashing but thought better of it as the crowd warmed up to him and he to us. I don't remember if he said something about the only other thing to do last night was attend a Civil War Convention (they can't get over they lost) or if it was Jerry. I laughed, but the couple next to me didn't.

When Jerry came on he looked like he was wearing his father's suit which was two sizes too big. I'm assuming at 55 he put on weight, like we all have, and tried to camouflage it by wearing something larger. It didn't work and he ended up reminding me of Groucho Marx, he just needed to crouch down a little as he walked and plop the cigar in his mouth. His statute seemed much smaller in person but his comedy was as large as I expected it to be. He seemed to love to pronounce Roanoke with a condescending tone as if to say "what type of place is this, who do you think you are and what the hell am I doing here?" Row-A-Noke, Row-A-Noke, Row-A-Noke. That's how I say it sometimes when the people annoy me so I thought it was funny. I even wore my "Other Roanoke" t-shirt hoping he could see it from the stage and would goof on me.



I almost feel like Seinfeld uses Roanoke as a spring board to see what works and what doesn't with his new material. And it was all new material. And it was clean material, which is nice for a change. I could have taken the kids with us, but the tickets were too expensive (for them) anyway. Like any good comedian he can improvise on the spot and knows how to interact with the audience when they shout something out at him. In fact he gave the audience a chance to shout out a couple of questions when he came back on stage for his "encore." Among the questions asked were, "What kind of phone do you use?" Who the hell cares, but it's a Droid, if you do. "Will there ever be a reunion?" As Jerry said, I guess you don't watch "Curb Your Enthusiasm." And the best question of the night..."Did you ever hook up with Elaine?" Jerry's response was something to the effect..."You know that George and Kramer and Elaine are not real, right? They're characters." If I had a question to ask it would have been, "What restaurant did you go to tonight that they told you was the best Jerry, the best, but you thought sucked?"

We all know that the only reason Seinfeld even comes to Roanoke is because his business manager lives here (I think) so thank you Mr. business manager. I had a great time and will definitely see him next time he comes back. My only complaint was that I couldn't bring my glass of wine into the auditorium and the show was too short. Oh yea, and then there's the biggest complaint...the parking situation at the Civic Center sucks. I felt like we spent more time in the freaking lot trying to get out than we did inside watching the show. Roanokers just can't get the concept of one car lets another car go, and so on, and so forth.

The show was over by 8:30, and Seinfeld even remarked that gave the three people who were going to go out on the town time to do so. My husband and I were two of those three so we did head downtown in the pouring rain. Of course we couldn't find a spot near the restaurant we wanted to go to, so ended up going to Flannery's. I figured since it was St. Patrick's Day eve celebration in Roanoke what better place to have a drink than an Irish bar.

That place is the closest thing I've seen in Roanoke that mimics a true bar. Their prices for drinks were a little steep for the size, (I never saw a Bloody Mary served in such a small glass before) but after all it is "downtown" so that's probably why they get more. I couldn't wait to try the Shepherd's Pie. Surely an Irish joint knows how to make Shepherd's Pie. Unfortunately it was 9:05pm and that was five minutes too late as the kitchen no longer made Shepherd's Pie or anything else on the menu other than "fried foods." When I asked what fried foods I was told just appetizers. So that's what we had. Some potato chip things with cheese and bacon and chicken wings, which weren't too good. As I bit into the last chicken wing I noticed it was practically raw. Gag. Cross another joint off the list.

As we were talking about the show and about Jerry's dining experience we figured it had to be a place downtown. We ran through most of the restaurants we've been to and realized most of them do suck. There are many fine restaurants in Roanoke but not too many downtown. You just have to know where to go. So Jerry, next time you come to town, drop me a line and I'll hook you up.

More pics here...

It Must Really Suck to Be Rich

On Wednesday evening my husband and I watched Artie Lange's stand up special, "It's the Whiskey Talking" which I had found used for five bucks and stuffed in my husband's Christmas stocking. I fell asleep halfway through it and when I awoke I uttered, "I can't believe this guy is even still alive." What I meant was that it was clear he was spinning out of control with his drinking and drugging and I assumed he would have pulled a Belushi by now and OD'd.

So it was really freaky to read this headline from the New York Post yesterday, "Artie Lange Stabbed Himself 9 Times"...

"Troubled comic Artie Lange landed in the hospital after stabbing himself nine times in an apparent suicide attempt, sources told The Post. Lange's frantic mom called 911 Saturday morning after she entered his Hoboken apartment and found the bloodied funnyman, a law-enforcement source said. Lange sustained six "hesitation wounds" and three deep plunges."

If someone didn't know who Lange is they would probably think this sounds like total bullshit, but those of us who are familiar with his self-destructive behavior know it's probably not. In case you don't know who Lange is, he's Howard Stern's sidekick (but apparently hasn't been on the show for a couple of weeks), a stand-up comedian, an actor who had a gig on Mad TV until he screwed that up, an author who came out with a book last year, his memoir "Too Fat to Fish" which was pretty good and I think did pretty well since it landed on the NY Times bestseller list.



He also starred in a couple of B movies, most notably as Santa in "Elf" with Will Farrel. I remember him saying how much money he had made just from that one scene from the residuals every time it played. I think it was on 24 hour rotation on some channel this holiday season so Lange must've scored big. I guess all those royalty checks pouring in were the last straw.

It must really suck to be rich and famous, even if you're only semi-famous. It must suck so much that some rich people think about getting a knife and stabbing themselves nine freaking times to just end it all. It must suck so mega much that taking pills, or jumping in front of a train is not even an option to be thought of when thinking about killing one's self, and that the only way to end the miserable existence of being a millionaire/drug addict/comic/actor/best-selling author has to be to take a blade and shove it inside your fleshy body numerous times, unsuccessfully, so that your mother could find you bleeding to death when she brings food over to feed your pathetic fat face. Nice son.

Yup, it must really suck to be as rich and famous as Artie. I wouldn't know as obviously I'm nowhere as rich, famous, nor miserable, as he is. Since he failed in his stabbing suicide attempt, I'm guessing his next book will be titled, "Too Fat to Filet."

My son said I'm taking this suicide attempt too personal. And I guess I am. I'm pissed. I've always liked Artie. He was the one bright spot on the Stern show. I could relate to his upbringing (not the drug part) but the tight Italian family part, especially his relationship with his mother, who he always spoke so lovingly about. How could he do this to her and to his sister? I feel for her more than him. I know from reading his memoir that he harbored some guilt (waaaaaa! what Italian child doesn't?) for his father's accident, but I think he's used that as an excuse for way too long. I could never get into his mind and know all the real reasons he did what he did, but to me it's just plain cowardly and selfish. If he couldn't take living up in the New Jersey/New York area he should have done what I did 15 years ago, move to Virginia, or anywhere else. His mother would have preferred visiting him there rather than the hospital and/or his grave. I hope Mrs. Lange finds peace and Artie finds his mind. Good luck you dope.