Gandhi With A Unibrow December 22, 2007
Posted by rosolio in Los Angeles, Media.Tags: adam carolla show, bonaduce, carolla, change, klsx, strasser, teresa
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Everyone always looks at the end result. This is true for everything. The Spanish American War; who won, who lost, how many people died. Watson & Crick: don’t tell me what they had for lunch, just tell me what they did. The middle doesn’t really concern anyone. But there’s something to be said for the journey, and you can’t accurately describe it until it is over. So it was officially on when I saw the headline:
Danny Bonaduce is gone from The Adam Carolla Show.
The show has been a larger part of my life than it probably should be. I haven’t missed a minute of the show since August 2006. Literally, not one minute. I can’t listen to the show live, and when I do, I still go back and listen to the whole thing on the podcast. The show made my day job in Chicago beyond bearable and all of my drives in Los Angeles entertaining. I get all of my news from Teresa Strasser, and there really isn’t much to say about Carolla that hasn’t already been said. The guy is a genius, a Howard Stern for people who like to think.
And then there was Bonaduce.
When he started, my reaction was one of confusion and rage, partially because it removed Dave Dameshek from the show, but primarily because Bonaduce is a classic radio personality; all shock and ego. He put on an air of intelligence, but it was nothing more than surface level, considering his repetition with the things he seemed to know and understand. The Duce personified a transaction from A Fish Called Wanda:
“Apes don’t read philosophy!”
“Yes they do, Otto. They just don’t understand it.”
I don’t think he ever caught on, but the recurring bit Dick Gobbler’s Morning Zoo was a shot at Bonaduce’s style. Anyway, it wasn’t until late February that I started tolerating his presence on the show.
Fast forward to Ace’s “illness,” a mysterious two-day, three show hiatus that confused the bejeezus out of all of his regular listeners, who know his rants about work and The Rally Gene. Something was amiss. Either Lynette or one of the kids was sick or no one was. Anyway, that Wednesday show with Teresa and Bonaduce wasn’t so bad. It actually had me thinking, “Wow, Bonaduce is actually holding his own here.” And then there was a sequel the next day, and the strangely non-Ace-like Christmas Special.
It was odd because I found myself getting frustrated with the Bonaduce haters on the message boards and the occasional phone lines. I guess the idea was that I had accepted Bonaduce’s presence as being a part of Carolla. I wasn’t going to stop listening to the show because of the Red Man’s contributions.
But then every now and then he’d be late…and the show was better.
There was no denying it. My acceptance of Il Duce was nothing more than that. My frustration with people who hated him was the same as with the people who complain about the government and don’t vote. I knew Jack Silver liked Bonaduce, and I know that he was extended, so there wasn’t any point in complaining about it. And now he’s out. And the show will be better for it.
Whether it was actually true that Carolla’s absence was a hunger strike to get Bonaduce out of there has yet to be seen. I’m guessing he’ll be honest about it when the show returns in January, considering the level of candor with which he approached the removal of Jimmy Brusca, Fat Tad, and Dameshek last year. He always talks about how little he cares about his fans, but that’s the only reason Carolla would do this, considering the improving ratings throughout Bonaduce’s tenure.
But it’s a testament to how good Carolla is that all of his fans stuck with him during the Bonaduce-Era. We all accepted it. We needed to know what he and Teresa had to say about anything and everything going on in the world. And we’d do it even though we had to listen to snippets of a regular morning show running in the middle of our extraordinary one. And for our loyalty, we get the old Ace back on January 2nd.
We’ve earned it.
The First Post Since ‘That’ Game December 5, 2007
Posted by rosolio in Football, Los Angeles.add a comment
Okay. Here’s how you know I’ve officially settled in Los Angeles. Because everyone I know out here gave me the same look on Tuesday. That same wide-eyed look that Jack Palance gets from the saloon he walks into. That slightly on edge, deer who might have heard a hunter look in their eyes that wait anxiously for Mike Rosolio to pull a Billy Costigan with his cranberry juice. I have nothing more to say about that game, other than we almost beat the greatest team ever assembled. Plain and simple. The horseshoes and hand grenades thing is true, and no one will remember it, except in Baltimore, where it could live on in Namath infamy. The only way it could get worse is if Pittsburgh is the team that knocks them off this weekend in Foxboro. Luckily, I think there’s no shot in hell of that happening. If it does, I guarantee I will throw up. Everywhere.
The ultimate upside from the ultimate optimist (who had to drive 30 miles out to Malibu and stare into the black of the Pacific Ocean for an hour to fashion said optimism) is that the Ravens might need that much of an overhaul. Granted, everyone played above and beyond themselves. Ed Reed was a terror, the fumble on the return being his only blemish. Willis McGahee played like his forty million dollar contract was on a string in front of him. Haloti Ngata had his Adrian Peterson-like coming out party as the best defensive tackle in the league. Samari Rolle showed a physical side that I’ve never seen before, even back to his Tennessee days (lesson to all young corners; have seizures and you can tackle). And crazy young guards Jason Brown and Ben Grubbs beat all-pros Richard Seymour, Vince Wilfork and Ty Warren into submission. With a fourth place schedule next season, precisely no expectations, and no superhuman Pats team next year (they won’t be like this ever again), the Ravens are a lot closer to contention in 2008 than previously thought.
So two schools of thought for 2007: either Baltimore is screwed for the rest of the season (which wouldn’t surprise me considering the staggering frustration level and the black cloud officially checking in over Charm City) or they realize they’re a lot closer than previously expected and go on a rampage, destroying Indy, Miami, Seattle, and Pittsburgh along the way. Either is possible, and we won’t know which one until kickoff against the Colts. But this team will absolutely cover this week. And might do a whole lot more before this done season is actually done.
Stalingrad 90028 November 25, 2007
Posted by rosolio in Los Angeles.add a comment
Psychotic.
Can anyone else think of a better term to describe the Hollywood Santa Parade? Let’s take a look at this perfect storm.
November 25th is the 2nd busiest travel day of the year in America. We know this because every local news outlet is sending their best, brightest, and most sleep deprived to every airport to cover the carnage. When I left BWI to return to Los Angeles this morning, news crews had gathered, ready to watch with a distant journalist’s eye.
At the same time, on the left coast, the government of Los Angeles has decided to shut down Hollywood. The whole city. You can’t enter or exit a gigantic gulag of streets from Sunset to Hollywood and between Argyle and La Brea. No one gets in, no one gets out. It is Soviet Russia.
I can understand having a parade…on any other day of the year.
Anyone got a better word for this?
Shane’s Destination June 22, 2007
Posted by rosolio in Chicago, It, Los Angeles, Movies.add a comment
Loners. Vanguards. Gunfighters. Shane. Shane was horrible, by far the worst Western I’d ever seen in my life. Purists would call me a lunatic, but I never trust a purist. ‘Purist’ is a positive spin on ‘true believer’, a category of person I refuse to ever trust. You can’t talk to a true believer, not to any effect, that is; you can yell at them and hope some or any of it sinks in but as they speak they search for holes in their own argument and as you speak they prepare their next barrage. They’re not listening to anything you say because they don’t see the need. Their mind has been made up, and every conversation is a chance to drag another non-believer into the light.
Tangent, whatever.
Back to westerns. I can’t call myself a real fan simply because real fans happen to like terrible movies. The best ones I’ve seen are ones that break the mold in some way. The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly and Outlaw Josey Wales were basically anti-war movies. Unforgiven was Clint Eastwood’s ultimate backlash at the hand that fed his career; the loner, the vanguard, the gunfighter, broken down for what it was – not legendary or respectable, but tragic. Thanks Byron, you poetic asshole, for turning the myths into the same depressed meaningless mess as everyone else. What, does Superman take detours into Mexican border towns to score cheap Lexapro? Why can’t anyone be bulletproof anymore? Let the man throw the Cadillac!
The main characteristic of the Loner/Vanguard/Gunfighter is that he goes from town to town, no real destination and no real starting point, ramblin’ like so many seventies rock bands glorified. You pick up, you go, you sit down for a second and tear the place apart, and then leave with only a trail of dust the people you knew left in the wake. You blew through town and as soon as everyone noticed, gone like Keyser Soze.
The movies always follow the town, watching the rider disappear into the sunset as the credits creep up, the huge Technicolor! globe taking over for the sun. But you never know what happens to the Loner/Vanguard/Gunfighter, and you only sort of care. It’s widely assumed that he just does what he did again, with a new town, new women, and new nemeses.
I’ll tell you what happens, he gets forty yards away and doubles back, usually from some higher vantage point, looking into the town he saved from certain destruction. But the masses who pled for him to stay have already gotten over it. They’ve gone back to the saloons and general stores and whatever buildings they have in old western towns. Butchers, tons of butchers. And an amicable coffin maker. They’re over it. The Loner/Vanguard/Gunfighter knows that had he stayed, the jubilation would have subsided and business as usual would have set in just the same. The world is saved and the story is told, the details of which will get fuzzier and more grandiose until someone’s kid eventually calls the crazy old people out on their hyperbole. When it all comes into question, it becomes harder and harder to believe any of it. It’s like it never happened.
No homes, only temporary places to crash. People who’s idiosyncrasies and drinks of choice become harder and harder to recall. Returning will be as a visitor, but have I ever been anything but? Or am I the permanent visitor? That’ll probably change at some point.
Then again, it didn’t for Shane.
Kobe Bryant and Occam’s Razor May 31, 2007
Posted by rosolio in Basketball, Los Angeles, Media.add a comment
The term ‘Conspiracy Theory’ carries a hell of a stigma. The first image conjured is usually that of the Kennedy Assassination, the rumors of alien landings at Roswell, and a remarkably horrible movie starring a pre-Himmler Mel Gibson. That history forces all logical theories under the umbrella of the insane. Well here’s one that’s not: Kobe Bryant meant exactly what he said when he requested a trade from the Lakers.
“Why would he do that?” gasp the talking heads on the ESPN channel fleet. “He’s the most marketable star in the second largest market in the country!” Okay, so we’ve eliminated one possibility: exposure.
It rarely makes sense to listen to someone’s explanation because most people lie, especially when it involves their career or money, but what the hell. Kobe’s demand for a trade came as part of a yelling match with the David Carradine of raising one’s voice, Stephen A. Smith. He claimed to be angry that he wasn’t getting any help from the front office, that they weren’t committed to surrounding him with championship caliber talent. That makes sense, considering that Kobe has been surrounded by young players such as Andrew Bynum and Kwame Brown. But then you recall Kobe’s part in running Shaquille O’Neal out of town. So that’s out; Kobe doesn’t want to share the spotlight.
It could be that Bryant’s having trouble with Head Coach Phil Jackson again. Jackson killed him in his book, calling Kobe “uncoachable.” Who can blame him there? There isn’t a point to drawing up a triangle offense with five players involved if one of them refuses to pass the ball. But Kobe has thrived under Jackson, and they’ve seemed to have buried the hatchet as the Zen Master still roams the bench at the Staples Center.
Wait…it’s got to be money. Hang on,…Kobe netted $17 million this season. Scratch that.
Well, those are the reasons that The Artist Formerly Known As Number Eight would want to leave the Lakers. What did I miss?
The Lottery…the NBA Draft Lottery.
The Celtics, Hawks, and Sixers all had a shot to land Kevin Durant or Greg Oden in the lottery, but the coveted top picks were swiped by Portland and Seattle of the Pacific Northwest. With the exception of LeBron James, all of the league’s stars are buried west of the Eastern Time Zone. The aforementioned Shaq is the beginning and end of the star power out East, and his time is quickly drawing to a close. Sure, Paul Pierce and Gilbert Arenas are big time players, but you don’t see either of them doing Sprite ads anytime soon. No one transcends the sport out there.
And the league is dying because of it.
Boston and New York used to be die-hard hotbeds. Between the Boston Garden and the hallowed MSG, some of the most devoted fans called the East home. People whine about an East Coast bias in sports, look at the results of the major cities on the Atlantic Coast this season:
Washington: 41-41
Philadelphia: 35-47
New York: 33-49
Atlanta: 30-52
Boston: 24-58
Of those teams, only Washington made the playoffs, and they were dead men walking with Arenas out.
The NHL moved Wayne Gretzky to Los Angeles to build the league out West. The NBA was banking on an Oden or Durant (or both) to bring save the league back East. And while they could be great players, Corey Brewer, Jeff Green, and Joakim Noah aren’t going to do that. Kobe Bryant, on the other hand…
Everyone was looking for a sequel to the famed “Frozen Envelope” draft that landed Patrick Ewing in America’s number one market. I wouldn’t be surprised in David Stern had a hand in getting one of the league’s best players out of American’s runner-up.
Even though he’s in a gigantic market, Bryant is quickly losing star-ground to fellow westerners Steve Nash and Dirk Nowitzki. That will only increase with the addition of Oden and Durant to Pacific Standard Time. In a coast devoid of star power, however, imagine how bright Kobe’s could shine.
I guess the truth really is in the first place you look.
See You In Arizona Bay May 18, 2007
Posted by rosolio in Chicago, Immigration, Los Angeles.add a comment
CHICAGO – I should probably explain myself.
I had decided I wasn’t going to go even before I’d gotten the letter admitting me to law school. A ferocious reshuffling of priorities in the first few months of 2005 left me considering the possibility that if I became a lawyer, I’d never get the chance to write a movie. It was always one of those things that was on its permanent backburner, behind the other backburners, in another kitchen, really. But I knew that I’d been thinking about writing and performing comedy since I left college and the sketch group that brought me back from the dead, and that it wasn’t likely to stop once I picked up the books and headed to court. I wrote a sketch during the LSAT, for the love of christ (for the record, of the 22 questions I missed on the LSAT, 19 of them were on the section where the sketch was born. And yes, it killed), how was I ever going to give up on this? As relationships fell apart and people I knew as mentors literally died around me, I decided that living with regret was the worse possible thing in the world.
So I concluded that bailing on the bizarre, impractical Dream was impossible and decided to give It a shot. But the grind of waiting tables and praying to God, Allah, Krishna, and whoever else that someone saw my standup set that is the lifestyle of New York and Los Angeles wasn’t my scene. Long story short, I moved to Chicago and picked up with the Second City Conservatory, working with directors and ridiculously funny people and finding some way to pay the rent. I locked myself in with complete and utter tunnel-vision, totally ignoring any thoughts of what the next decade or year or month was going to be like. I did a bunch of shows on the various stages at SC and a few others around Chicago and had a great time. I could have stayed here forever.
But that wasn’t the next step. I ended up with an audition and a callback for a sketch show in Los Angeles, and before my last show at Second City was cold, I landed a job as a writer…in LA.
The bane of my existence, the place the great Bill Hicks called Arizona Bay…I’ll soon call it home. I was going to go through all that stuff that so many people have gone through before: the search for an agent, the traffic, football games at ten o’clock in the morning. Amidst all the other people trying to Live the Dream, I was going to blend in like egg nog ice cream, which I once ate under the false pretense that it was vanilla. So we’re underway.
Still in Chicago and I might get the call to move at any minute. I’m guessing June. I’ll document it in full…
A few random things:
-Immigration bill looks like it’s going to work out. I think it seems fair, I’ve already heard a few people angry that they’re fining the illegals $5k as part of their trek to citizenship. Well, they’ve been in this country for awhile and haven’t paid taxes. Also, there’s that whole thing about ‘illegal’ immigrant; they’re criminals according to our government. Al Capone’s empire came crumbling down because of tax evasion, five grand isn’t a thing. I would like to hear alternatives from anyone who disagrees with the bill or my assessment that it’s more than fair, not to start a fight, but because I’m open to listen. That’s how conversations work, despite what CNN and other media outlets want you to think.
-Jerry Falwell’s dead this week, and it’s about time. I’m tired of famous people becoming 
saints after they die, especially people who are famous for being terrible human beings. Falwell said the United States deserved 9/11 because of all the athiests, gays, minorities and tits on TV. His sermons led people to agree with his sentiments that the Civil Rights movement was the worst thing that has ever happened to this country. Falwell was a terrorist, no better than a low-ranking Klansman who harrasses black families in suburban neighborhoods. Every time part of you wants to show some remorse for his recent passing, remember that if he had his way, black people would be calling him “massah”, gay people would be on fire, the 700 club would be the only show on TV, and if you are Jewish, Muslim, atheist, Buddhist or just not Christian enough, you’d be dead. I think he was a horrible guy, you’re entitled to your opinion (oh, he wouldn’t want that either).
