Dear Mouthketeers:

For those of you who care about reality television, last night’s finale of “The Real Housewives of New Jersey” ended with verve—or shall I say, with Teresa throwing a table across a private dining room during her housewarming party at a local restaurant.  However, no one on the show was more classy than Danielle Staub, whose checkered past was unlocked in a book she unveiled at the party, called Cop Without a Badge, written by her first ex-husband.  This book, and all the brouhaha surrounding last night’s last episode of “Housewives,” made Staub, a/k/a Beverly Merrill, look as if she could have played Whitney Houston’s best friend in “Being Bobby Brown.”  However, Staub claims most of the book isn’t true, and used the finale of the reality TV franchise as her opportunity to air her grievances. 

Staub isn’t the only one to have a book haunt her for years. 

Years ago, my mom was washing dishes as she was listening to NPR, and while she heard the interview, couldn’t believe the guest was talking about her life—the guest being James McBride, New York Times best-selling author of The Color of Water.  You see, the story was about McBride’s mother who never told anyone about her past, and the author was on a mission to find out about his white mother’s family tree.   Little did anyone know but my mom was McBride’s mother’s first cousin, and after the NPR interview aired, Water played a big role in breaking up our family, just as Cop played a big role in severing ties with many of the cast members on “Housewives.”

Although I won’t tell you whom my mother’s character was in Water, (the names were changed to protect the “innocent,” I guess), what I will tell you is the story puts my mom and her immediate family in a very bad light; and even though the critics propelled McBride’s book to classic status, I know the writing is filled with lies.  (Where is Michiko Kakutani when you need her?) 

Apparently McBride stuck a mic under his mother’s nose and let her rant, and those rants were enough for him (and his editor at Riverhead), to craft his tale.  Boy, is McBride lucky he didn’t publish his book after A Million Little Pieces, where author James Frey tweaked his tome simply to sell more copies and be famous, I assume.  If the timing of McBride’s book was released after the Frey story, there would be no way in hell Riverhead would have published it without a level of vetting or at least convince McBride to get off his ass and do the fact checking himself.  Since McBride must’ve made a ton of money after the book pubbed, should McBride have given a portion of his royalties to the family members he hurt as an apology? 

At the end of the day, the “Housewives” knew who they were, and had an opportunity to air their “point-counter-point” reaction to the book on their show; however, McBride never met my mother, never bothered to do his homework, and obviously, never suggested a retraction to run on a TV show or an NPR interview where my mom could air her grievances. (Actually, she didn’t want to be part of any publicity surrounding the book.)  When Water was released, there were no reality television shows used as platforms to set the record straight and give an innocent person a vehicle to say their peace.  However, as housewife Caroline Manzo eloquently said in the finale of the “Housewives” show, “If someone attacks my family, I will attack back.” So, without further adieu, all I can say to James McBride is, “Fuck you, asshole.”

Did you mom ever wash your mouth out with soap?

Peace.

The Mouthinator. 

The Mouthinator entertainment

Greetings Mouthketeers:

We’ve all watched the legendary, Cher, turn back time—transitioning from a 60ish year-old senior to a 17 year-old somthin/somthin throughout the last decade.  Now, Cher’s, gay daughter, Chastity Sun Bono, will be transitioning her own way as she announced late last night she will become a male and has asked to be called “Chaz.”  You got that right.  I’d say Chaz has some big balls to go ahead with this.  You go, boyyyyy! 

I had the unique experience of meeting Chaz’s parents, Sonny and Cher, at the Playboy Plaza Hotel in Miami Beach in the early 1960s.  On a hot December day, the two were tanning by the pool, and to add to the excitement, the Jackson Five were swimming in the pool right next to them.  (True story.)  There I was, as tall as I was wide, plopping in and out of the water and running up and down the patio—trying to entice my secret love, Cher Bono, to notice me.   

So I went over to Cher and asked for her autograph. 

She was lying on her stomach, and Sonny was propped up on his back, reading a book.  Tragically for me, Cher wouldn’t turn over to acknowledge my existence; however, Sonny was kind enough to autograph his name—and hers—on the playbill I had gotten the night before from their show.  (Imagine seeing the “Sonny and Cher Show” at the age of six with your parents at the Playboy Plaza in Miami Beach Florida . . . Unforgettable.) 

Who cared about Michael Jackson, who looked like a real person in those days? All I wanted was to meet Cher, and she didn’t give me the time of day.  I never forgot how she dissed me, and when I was fortunate enough to represent Olympia Dukakis six years ago (and told her my devastating Cher story), the uber talented Dukakis—who starred with Cher in “Moonstruck”—promised me Cher was a very nice woman who ‘would apologize to me if she knew she had hurt me.’

Now that I’m (apparently) an adult, I don’t need Cher’s forgiveness or her love for that matter; however if there’s anyone who needs Cher now, it’s her newfound son, Chaz.  It must suck being a man stuck in a woman’s body.  Hell, it certainly sucks being a man stuck in a chubby body as I’m sure it’s a tragedy being an older woman who has just realized she has lost her looks.  The grass is always greener.  What can we all do but live our lives the way our gut—not necessarily our God—tells us to.  I’m not necessarily convinced God created transgendered souls; however, I know God loves them.  Read your Bibles people.  Page 34:  And God said, “Thou shalt love White People, Asian, Black, Indian and Transgendered peeps.”  (OK.  Sorry.  It must be page 36.)

Chastity was a very, very cute little girl whose parents paraded her on their television show as if she was a toy.  Now the toy is turning into a boy, and I sure hope Cher will still want to play with him. 

Good luck, Chaz.  Wishing you all the best.

Does anyone remember when we all used baby oil mixed with Iodine as a tan accelerator? 

Peace.

The Mouthinator. 

The Mouthinator Lifestyle, entertainment

Greetings Mouthketeers:

We’ve got a Ling sentenced to twelve years hard labor in North Korea, we have a Von Brunn suspected of shooting at the US Holocaust Museum in Washington DC, and now we have a Prejean dethroned as Miss California in Los Angeles. (Where else, but Cali?) 

Jeez, do we really need to hear from this woman and The Comb Over (uh, I mean, The Donald) again on this subject?  She weathered the storm after the way she answered the gay marriage question while competing for the Miss USA crown, and she survived the blitzkrieg of reporters after her topless photos surfaced on the Internet.  So why couldn’t this chick hold onto her title?  Hmmm. Something tells me she didn’t put out for The Comb Over; and he said, “You’re fired!”

According to ”newsbreaking” accounts all over the Web and on traditional TV and radio, this woman isn’t meeting up to all of her “contractual negotiations;” therefore, Trump (the owner of the pageant), canned her.  OK.  Gubuy dearie.  See ya on the unemployment line.  Next!

Can’t the American “culture” just chill out when it comes to covering people who offer nothing in the news except a tit, an ass, and a beautiful smile?  I mean, really . . . you have Hilary Clinton trying to stop a nuclear Holocaust in North Korea, and this Carrie Prejean story is number twelve on Google Trends at the time of this posting.

I suppose I am adding fuel to the fire by even blogging about this subject for the third time, but I’m totally stumped as to why we can’t let beauty queens stay beautiful?  We don’t need to hear from them about gay marriage for God’s sake . . . especially when they’re parading around in high heels and wearing nothing but a Brazilian wax.  If I were a judge, I would have asked the contestants if they could name all the ingredients in a Mojito, not what their strategy is for world peace.

Is The Terminator still the Governator of California?

Peace.

The Mouthinator.

The Mouthinator Pop Culture, entertainment

Greetings Mouthketeers:

David Carradine, an actor with over 100 movies under his belt—including “Kill Bill”—was found dead on June 3rd, hanging by a nylon rope in a hotel room closet in Bangkok, Thailand, according to a Thai police official.  God bless him, because his family and friends swear he wasn’t suicidal these days.  OK. . . And? 

I’m not sure about you, but why do actors get celebrity treatment—you know, legendary status—when they die?  My parents:  Dead.  Where are their TV eulogies, and where are all my dead friends and all of my dead friends’ dead friends’ TV eulogies?  God only knows the country is going to shut down when Oprah or Madonna or Ryan Seacrest pass.  But for you, me and your friends?   Let’s put it this way:  I’d pre-pay and even write my own obit for the New York Times to keep on-file, instead of counting on someone else to pitch my final farewell.

I was walking down West 77^th Street about 20 years ago when I heard a thud.  I looked to the right, and apparently someone jumped off an apartment building rooftop.  I heard the noise and simply took a nap for over four hours.  To this day, I can still hear the thud.  For about 5 years, I worked for a set of Triplets, and one of them shot himself in his home on Mothers’ Day, leaving his wife without a husband, a young daughter without a dad, and two brothers without the third.  People die everyday—peacefully and tragically . . . so where is their moment of silence for all to see?

My point is, we have a weird perception of celebs, putting them on a pedestal simply because they pretend they’re someone else.  I’m not certain why the “let’s pretend” crowd deserve any special treatment when they pass simply because they’re actors, singers, dancers, writers, bloggers, etc., etc.  Anna Nicole Smith?  What the hell did this broad do to warrant tributes after TV shows and feature stories on the news of her passing?  Does her tombstone say, “She overdosed and left Dannielynn without a mother?” Puhleese.  Spare me the drama here because I do not get it.

Since this country is obsessed with Reality TV, why isn’t there a “Channel for the Dead?”  You know, a network of short bios on people who have passed?  That way, my friends John, Bob, Kerry, Joanie, Scott, Shar, and Paulie, to name a few, can play, fast-forward, and rewind the clips of their dead parents so their dear relatives get a few minutes of stardom—just like the chosen few.   

Does anyone know what happened to Yvonne DeCarlo?

Peace.

The Mouthinator. 

The Mouthinator Pop Culture, entertainment

Greetings Mouthketeers:

Last night I had the pleasure of seeing—for the first time—“Jon & Kate Plus 8” on TLC, and all I can say is, this show is about two adults, Jon and Kate Gosselin, who do nothing more than masturbate in front of the cameras, and whore out their kids for a buck.  You got that one right.  Masturbate.  

First, what’s up with Kate’s striped hairdo?  Isn’t that more of a style for Animal Planet?   And who is telling this Blondzilla woman she should believe her own publicity?  Am I the only one who saw her sit on her Ikea love seat and mug for the camera while her daughter was trying to keep up with her mama’s facial expressions?   Grrrrrl.  Your family doesn’t need college.  Y’all need acting class.    

From all the accounts in the media, last week the show pulled in 10 Million viewers as the couple’s marriage seemed to be on the rocks.  This week, the only rocks I saw were on the beaches of San Diego—where Kate and her eight year-old daughter vacationed for a few days.  Whatever happened to taking a kid to Six Flags? 

The people who lose out are the Gosselin kids who I predict will be drug addicts and alchies by the time they’re in their twenties because as the show loses their ratings they will be fallen child stars still looking for their close-ups.  If Jon and Kate think they are simply appearing on the show to pay for their kids’ college tuition, perhaps they should save some moolah for rehab because this family is ready to unravel.  And why is America fascinated?    

Seriously though, don’t you think Kate is turning into the Sarah Palin of her time zone?  I hear Kate’s pulling in major bucks speaking and writing books?  Everyone can relate to her because she’s relatively nice, but trust me; she knows when the cameras are or aren’t rolling.  As for Jon, he should just go on Jenny Craig and call it a day.

He is b-o-r-i-n-g.

Shame on TLC for taking these bland people and morphing them into the stars of “Annie 2:  It’s a Hard Knock Life,” and shame on these parents for allowing this network to shove cameras in front of their kids as if they’re puppets performing in the circus.  Jeez, why does everyone in America wanna be in showbiz?  

Does anyone remember the Loud Family?  Now THAT was a family suited for the boob tube. 

Peace.

The Mouthinator.   

The Mouthinator entertainment

Greetings Mouthketeers:
 
As many of you know, the Book Expo America (BEA), convention has landed in NYC, and this year’s installment should further shed light that this is a dismal time for books. That’s why I give the BEA a D- for not spicing it up and adding some puddy to the festivities in order to—at least—increase attendance and wake the crowd up.
 
Most book publishers won’t know what “puddy” means, but if I were the execs at BEA I’d find out.  If I knew my convention was slightly tanking this year because less publishers were exhibiting, I would look to other conventions, such as the International Auto Show, as a model for bringing in the people.  Hell, even the Auto Show’s website looks more inviting than the BEA’s. . . what’s up with that??

Here’s my suggestions for glamming the BEA convention up:  First, I’d open it up to the public, and make it cheap for the consumer to bring the entire family.  What’s the big secret behind these closed doors, book people? The worst thing that could happen is your books get some early buz and you give away a few more galleys.

Second, I’d bring in a busload of bikini-clad babes who could gyrate on top of platforms to look like books, as if they were slithering on a racing car at the Auto Show.

Third, I’d pump in some rock music or something peppy in the background. . . and PUHLESE do not put on any classical music because violins are snoozers, especially  when you want people to stay awake and order your inventory.

As honest as the station is, I’d get rid of the CSPAN bus that usually clogs a hallway, and replace it with a mud wrestling pit with oiled down lesbians who could promote a Prop 8 tell-all or something of that ilk. (Shout out to all the lesbian fans reading this.) Seriously though, if the publishers are spending every dime to bring in some celebs to sex this thing up a bit, the BEA should guarantee that exhibitors will be pitched to “Entertainment Tonight.” 
 
Most importantly, the book world should finally understand that the ebook is going to take over the marketplace, because the younger generation doesn’t care about whether or not they will be curling up with a big-ass book in the winter.  Books are way too heavy and dusty.  Gen X wants to read, but not read the way granny did.  Instead of walking around as if your industry is dying a slow death, publishers should simply sell an ebook selection for the same price as hardcover books.  What’ya scared of?  If one publisher demands this price, others will follow.  
 
In a culture where most people don’t read, it’s more important than ever for publishers to play the American game.  If sex sells, sell books in a sexy way.  Perhaps the BEA will be covered in Playboy next year—that is, if the mag is still in existence.
 
Did you read The Brothers Karamazov?  What a book.   
 
Peace.
 
The Mouthinator.

The Mouthinator Pop Culture, entertainment

Greetings Mouthketeers:

If you saw the “Today Show” this morning, you probably saw the interview with Sara Jane Moore, the only woman to have fired a bullet at a U.S. President (Gerald Ford). However, what the show didn’t tell you is that according to Geri Spieler, author of the new book, Taking Aim At the President:  The Remarkable Story of the Woman Who Shot At Gerald Ford, (Palgrave Macmillan), the late Gerald Ford agreed that the lack of communication between the Secret Service, FBI, and Justice Departments, could have been a major contributing factor to Sara Jane’s success in firing the gun.

Ford gave Spieler an exclusive interview for the book, which focused on intelligence gathering and government agencies.  Reveals Ford, “They all want their own turf. They get their own money, have their own power base.  It has been that way and it is not likely to change.  It’s too bad, and it is not likely to be any different.”  The book also reveals for the first time that because of Moore’s connection as a volunteer with various revolutionary groups, Sara Jane was indeed a double-agent:  Tapped to be an FBI and a San Francisco Police Department Informant.

Why didn’t the Today Show interview this author or reach out to anyone from the Ford family? Perhaps they did; but for about fourteen minutes, Sara Jane Moore was a star.

Does anyone remember the show, “Get Smart?”

Peace.

The Mouthinator.

The Mouthinator Politics, Pop Culture, entertainment

Greetings Mouthketeers:

Why should we care about Marshall Mathers, and more importantly why does the New York Times care?  In last Sunday’s “Arts & Leisure” section, the paper devoted an entire big ass cover story to Mathers . . . as if he was Jesus or Tom Jones or Madonna for God’s sake.  

OK.  For those of you who don’t know who the hell I’m talking about, Marshall Mathers’ stage name is Eminem.  And Eminem is talented.  And?  Why is it a given that if you’re coming out of rehab or on the verge of being committed, the media in this country feels you deserve pages and pages of publicity?  Remember, “Crack is Whack” Whitney?  How about puddy girl Britney stretched out on a gurney?  What about all that Anna Nicole coverage?  Is it me or does the phrase “heard it all before” come to mind every time I read another story about another fallen entertainer?   And that’s why—unfortunately—I give the New York Times an “F” for a) wasting paper on the Eminem story and b) writing the same old crap about an artist who has come out of rehab and on the road to recovery.

On one hand, you could take out Eminem’s name and fill in the blanks with the next drug addict star because all these articles are the same.  After reading a gatrillion features like this one, I’m beginning to think the media writes about these subjects simply to feel cool or credible themselves.  You know, if you glorify the person who’s at the bottom, you, as an upper crust writer, look as if you’re connecting with the down and out crowd.  How “real” of you, Mr. Writer. And you, the writer, will look as if you’re the journalist who gave this artist their break—writing the big story, which launched their comeback.  You’ll go down in history too—as if you’re a celeb.  But, when is someone—especially writers at the New York Times—gonna learn they’re the ones who should be discovering the next Mathers, not simply getting the first feature on an OK artist who is coming back from a Betty Ford Center?  

Again, not to sound as if I’m rehashing my philosophy for the umpteenth time, but we’re living in the land of the free and the home of the brave . . . so with all the people who can rap, dance and sing circles around Mr. Mathers why is he the one the paper highlighted over Memorial Day weekend?  Personally I think it’s a badass cop out.  And to me it appears as if the writer ran out of story ideas, and the newspaper is desperate to gather a younger readership. Doesn’t the Times know the youth of our country supposedly do not read newspapers (in paper form)?   My advice would have been to put the damn story online only, and don’t waste trees printing out a hard copy unless you simply have to.       

I really would have loved seeing another feature story about Susan Boyle over Memorial Day weekend, wouldn’t you?  Where is Lena Zavaroni when you need her?  (Sadly, Ms. Zavaroni lost her battle with Anorexia Nervosa in 1999 at the age of 35.)

Peace.

The Mouthinator.      

The Mouthinator entertainment

Greetings Mouthketeers:

Is it me or did I just see the same episode of the “Fashion Show” repeat just as the final credits of the premiere scrolled up the screen?  Wait.  Didn’t I just see that same episode of “The Real Housewives of New Jersey,” which first aired two days ago?  Oh, and isn’t “The Fashion Show” the same premise as “Top Chef,” where the first part includes small challenges, followed by an elimination challenge, etc., etc., etc.? 

Now I get it!  Bravo found a pattern in their programming, and they ain’t veering off the beaten path because they feel these cookie cutter casts make their audiences happy.  Wrong.  Your audience is getting tired, and bored.  At first, I thought it was a brilliant idea for the network to re-air shows just in case you’re not available to see them the first time around . . . but after seeing the talent, which came out of “American Idol” last night, and the fact that 100,000,000 people tuned into vote (for the wrong contestant, as I reported in yesterday’s blog), I’m now giving Bravo TV a big “F” for dumbing down their programming and burning out their viewers.

I certainly don’t want to copy and paste sentences from blogs past, but here’s a snippet worth repeating:  This country boasts we live in the land of the free and home of the brave.  Why isn’t Bravo brave enough to create different shows, rather than in recycling the same formats over and over again?  I feel as if I’m watching the Eveready Battery—in the form of a TV network, don’t you?

With 100,000,000 people voting for Kris or Adam, wouldn’t that give Bravo a hint as to what should be their next program?  Aren’t we tired of all these reality competitions anyway?  I’m even bored watching these contestants winning Ford Focuses aren’t you?  And who plays all these games?  I can’t remember the last time I broke out a game of Monopoly, can you? 

Bravo, dream up a variety music show, and for God’s sake, please don’t make it a challenge that’s in the vein of “Top Chef.”   Spend just ten minutes more with the brainiacs whom you still hire to dream up your show ideas, and see if they can come up with an hour with Cindi Lauper, an hour with Jennifer Hudson, an hour with Cher; and because you take the piss out of trash in a very classy way, an hour with Britney Spears.  I’m not asking you to model a show after “Inside the Actor’s Studio,” just dream up another concept so that the 1 Million music fans have a show to watch and a show for you to bet your money on.  Cool? 

Bottom line:  Ooops.  Don’t do it again. 

Hey, is “Project Runway” moving to Lifetime TV this summer?

Let’s take a moment to remember our fallen troops over Memorial Day weekend.

Peace. 

The Mouthinator.    

The Mouthinator entertainment

Greetings Mouthketeers:

The wrong contestant won “American Idol” Season 8 last night, and winner, Kris Allen, even admitted it.  With all the gazillion singers out there, what makes Kris an Idol? 

“American Idol” is like going to summer camp.  You love returning each year but after you’ve been there more than you can imagine, you skip the arts & crafts projects, the barbecues and the softball games . . . and go straight to the color war.  

Did anyone hear Adam Lambert, who I think is the real winner of the season, sing “We are the Champions” with the band, Queen? The only thing I don’t like about Adam is his Joey Heatherton hairdo and the fact he looks like Lisa Marie Pressley and Kris Jenner (”Keeping Up with the Kardashians”) combined . . . which tells me all that feminity probably cost him the Idol crown.  But when Adam and Kris sang with Queen—forget the hair and the girlishness—that was the real moment when Adam left Kris on the stage and stepped up to the plates of Stevie Wonder, James Brown, Minnie Ripperton, Melba Moore and even early Mariah Carey.  Hell, if I were Queen I would visit Freddie Mercury’s grave, say a prayer or two of gratitude, and then run, not walk to sign Adam up as their new lead singer.  Frankly Queen desperately needs Adam.  Was Kris singing the song too?  Forgetful.

Or was it Kiss who desperately needs Adam?  I had the distinct “pleasure” of meeting Gene Simmons twice:  the first time was in 1979 when I served him takeout in his limo at Tavern-on-the-Green in NYC, and the second time was around 2005 when he was peddling his book project around to various publishers.  OK.  Gene has a long tongue.  And? 

The way “American Idol” ended last night really epitomizes the way Americans think.  They’re scared of unique . . . different.  For whatever reason, we’re the country that boasts a land of the free and home of the brave, but when it comes to ultra creativity and zing, we shy away and choose the familiar. 

Doesn’t Adam remind you of President Obama?  They’re different.  They legitimately have a unique voice and express themselves like no other.  Even though 100,000,000 viewers voted for the winner of “American Idol” this year, I bet there’s a chad or two that wasn’t counted in Adam’s favor.  No offense Kris, You are second. 

Don’t you think Cindi Lauper is da bomb?  Rod, go home. 

Peace.

The Mouthinator.    

The Mouthinator entertainment