I can't decide what's worse: the inanity of what passes for reality television this summer, or that I, doped up on muscle relaxants, found it somewhat entertaining.
What caught my eye the first night on the drugs was "Master of Champions," this idiotic (And to use this term is to insult idiots, so I apologize to all you idiots out there.) American-Idol-ripoff which is a very bad, probably coke-and-testosterone-inspired hybrid of "America's Got Talent," David Letterman's "Stupid Human Tricks" and "Jackass." (from MTV, remember that, kids?)
It was the kind of entertainment that must have been popular just before the fall of Rome. That and the state of the Middle East (at the time, on fire) made me very, very scared for our the future of our country and the world. Or my state of mind. Or the potency of my dosage.
As in any good ripoff reality show, the contestants are judged by a panel of B-list celebrities, but in this case they were D-list sports celebrities (and to use this term is insulting D-list sports celebrities, so I apologize to them, too...Suzy Chaffee, Marv Albert, Tara Lipinski, I'm talking to you) including Oksana Baiul (who was probably wishing she'd gone into Celebrity Boxing instead, but guess what?? She's making a few bucks as a motivational speaker, but apparently not enough), Steve Garvey (guess he couldn't get a color-commentary gig, or his wife's tell-all book tanked his cred for life), and Johhny Moseley (also an Olympic athlete, but his Wheaties box went stale long ago. What, the Flying Tomato was already booked?)
The lead-in teased the show with a preview of ridiculous, contortionist, pyromanaical or just plain maniacal stunts, but featured (that night) the art and science of competitive pizza-tossing. Like those guys who used to twirl the dough in the window of the parlor. Except this group was the winning team in the I'm sure very popular sport of competitive pizza tossing. Of all the groups of Team Pizza Tossing In America (you know, Dough-Re-Mi, Toss Your Cookies, Rolling In Dough, Doughboys..relax...none of these names are real. Come on. You knew that.) this team was the very lucky winner among all pizza-tossing teams and that earned them the right to perform on national television and meet Oksana (or Steve, depending on their orientation). All were young and mostly boneless guys who twirled while they flipped, while they limboed, while they moonwalked, all in synchronized formation. I was just imagining the parents of these guys, grumbling to themselves that for this, they sent their progeny to some large, East-Coast party college where they should have been playing Ultimate Frisbee or Hacky-Sack instead.
And during the obligatory soft-focus background fillers, the guys were interviewed - how they got started, how they grew up spinning everything in sight, how one of the guys used to spin the dough at his family's pizza parlor.
I didn't stay awake long enough to find out what the esteemed panel of judges thought about the winning team's performance, or what came next.
But at least I felt it was my obligation to you, my faithful reader, to report what I'd seen so that you don't make the same mistake I did and waste a moment of your precious time on this crap without being seriously medicated.
And, as always, these are professional pizza-tossers. Kids, don't try this at home.
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11 comments:
Wow...what have they got you on again?
Skelaxin...half the normal dose. Think if I took the full pill I'd melt into any surface I was plopped upon...
Oh, that is wonderful stuff! I had it after I tore the lower third of my left trapezal away from my spine. Wonderful stuff!
aaa - How did you manage that?
In between my illustrious career in the (bowels of the) entertainment industry (manufacturing cable traps for a skinflint and his rapacious son) and my oh-so-fulfilling (at inducing peptic ulcers) career in eductaion (keeping college coeds warm at night), I worked at a filter factory. You know, filters, like for Brita pitchers and junk like that (including dialysis machines).
Well, proving the old adage that (crap floats) 'cream rises to the top', I rapidly rose up through several crappy line jobs to the Quality Control department, the Test Room. Basically, we'd run a controlled water sample through the filters, and see how clean the water was afterward. This also flushed any particulates from the manufacturing process out of them. This involved laboriously attaching each filter to a testing rack's fittings, and then running the water through them for an hour or so.
Each rack had a master filter to keep particulates out of the water supply, and said filters had to be changed regularly (ironically, we did not manufacture those filters). This involved opening a filter housing, replacing the filter, and re-closing and tightening the filter housing. Some water was kept in the filter housing during this, to pre-soak the new filter. On top of the housing was a groove with a rubber o-ring to make a tight seal at the attachement point.
One fine Febuary 28th, in 2000AD, while I was changing said filter, the housing tipped over while I was removing the old filter, and unbeknownst to me (but alas, knownst to the immutable physical laws of hydrodynamics) when it tipped over, that water left in it rushed out, and washed the o-ring under a nearby cart, out of sight.
So, I put the housing back on, and tightened it down dutifully, and turned on the water. And it leaked. So I went over and tightened it by hand some more. And it still leaked. So I grabbed our housing wrench (an object very similar in form and function to an oil filter wrench but larger and with a cloth strap instead of metal) and tightened it still further. Or tried to. The darn thing was wet, and slippery, and wouldn't stay put. So I took it off, crouched down, and using both hands, gave a mighty wrenching twist on the housing. And the leak dropped to a barely noticeable trickle. But STILL IT LEAKED!!
And that was when I felt an odd sensation in my back. Kind of a burning sensation, and also a very unusual shifting sensation under my skin. And it occurred to me that I may have just done a Very Bad Thing to my back.
So, I stood back up. And the unusual shifting sensation, and the odd burning sensation, were immediately replaced by a searing sensation of a hot knife being vigorously swished in the meaty portions of my lower spine in an up and down fashion.
And I spent most of the rest of that day at North Medical Center, getting MRIed, tsk-tsked over, and poked and prodded and grilled and interrogated, and finally and gloriously, drugged to my eyeballs to keep me from weeping like a little girl. And after hours of examining, consulting, and tsk-tsking, the doctors told me I had done a Very Bad Thing to part of my back. A part they had, in fact, a name for. My left trapezius http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trapezius_muscle muscle had had the lower 30% or so torn away from where it attached to my spine.
Frankly, it hurt. A LOT. Sometimes it still does.
Sorry for the wall of text, but it was a rather vivid memory.
Yikes. I've done Very Bad Things to my trapezius as well, so I know where it lives and how painful it could be. Except mine were passive Very Bad Things. Because of the fibro. Combined with a job where I spent the bulk of the day bent over a drafting table. One day I woke up and couldn't lift my right shoulder. For, like, a couple of months. I got ultrasound and chiropractic adjustments and massages and Flexeril, but nothing much seemed to work. Gradually it went away when that particular fibro flare had had enough of me. But every once in a while (especially when I'm working too much) my collarbone dislocates because of the muscle tension. And I'm sure, because of the previous injury.
I hope you have much better jobs now.
Well, currently I keep college coeds warm at night for a living.
It's actually a lot duller than it sounds.
aaa-No. I'm sorry. You can't leave me hanging like that. Not with an imagination like mine. Now you HAVE to explain!
Well, basically, I monitor the computerized energy management system for the campus buildings. It controls the heat, lights, AC, hot water, water booster pumps for the taller buildings (and Mt O), and a host of other things. I also do a lot of other stuff, all of which is very technical and exceptionally dull.
But it really does end up keeping college coeds warm at night.
You were probably still in grade school when I lived on campus, but I assure you, I was eternally grateful to those who preceded you.
Then on their behalf I accept your thanks, and offer their 'You're welcome.'
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