Hey, let’s add some guitars playing power chords to Debussy’s Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun. Man it up a little. Heck, add on a couple strippers too, cuz, you know, we want guys to buy symphony tickets.

Today’s BTTH goes to Skate Canada.

Seems SC wants to toughen up men’s figure skating. Because, you know, we can’t have all them girly-men doing pirouettes and wearing sequins. They must all be gay.

See, this infuriates me on several levels. What’s this all about anyway? I mean really? It’s about television ratings, fiends. Canadian dollars. The Skate Canada people say that fewer men are entering the field of competitive figure skating because of the stereotype attached to it (this is especially touchy for Canada, I’d imagine, given their national, manly sport of ice hockey). Well that’s too bad. Maybe Skate Canada should embark on a massive education initiative, instead of proposing what amounts to simple caving under pressure, or worse: chasing the dollar at any cost.

It seems like a real Pandora’s Box grand opening. So what happens now? If you’re a male skater and you don’t choose the “Tough” program, but rather, you choose the pairs skating or more “artistic” side of the sport — what, you’re a nancy boy now? What happens then? I mean, really. If you want to add another dimension to your sport, then add it. But do it for the right reasons; not because you’re being called “sissy.”

*sigh*

<digression>

But listen. I ain’t no Mother Teresa. Everybody got a stereotype or two in their closet. I do, I admit it. My worst one: men and earrings. I hate earrings on men, in any form, single or double, small or large, hoop or cross or stud. Period. Why? Not because of sexual orientation connections, but because I equate the earring-clad male with a late-1970s lounge lizard.

Yes, I confess. I believe that every man who wears an earring is Nick Winters.

</digression>

Bottom line, I mean, who cares anyway? I think it is positively laughable that people to whom this matters would flock to the symphony hall to listen to Tchaikovsky, Bernstein or Copland (and many others) and not know or think a thing about it. It makes me laugh at all the tough guys who watched — and identified with — Rock Hudson’s and Van Johnson’s movies back in the day and didn’t know.

Regardless of your personal/religious/moral views, fiends: it just doesn’t matter. I know gay people who are amazing musicians. I also know gay bankers, teachers, coaches (*GASP*), attorneys, cost accountants, corporate training execs and project managers, whose work is indistinguishable from that of their hetero counterparts. Why does everything have to be about orientation?

Hey, I have an idea. Let’s make everything about how nice you are. If you’re a schmuck — *bANg*. You’re out. If you have fun at other people’s expense because it makes you feel superior — *bANg*. Boot to the head. If you constantly drag down the people around you with your horrible attitude — *bANg*. We shun you. If you don’t treat others as you want to be treated — *bANg*. We stereotype you, look down on you, and invalidate you.

Heh. I’m fulla good ideas. Happy Saturday! I hate weekends.

Fink out.

Hey, remember the old Maytag repairman commercials? I do. They depicted Maytag appliances as being so incredibly sturdy and dependable, repairmen had nothing to do. Hence the advertising slogan/moniker, “The Loneliest Guy in Town.”

Three different actors played the bored-to-death fix-it men. Nowadays, there’s a new one altogether.

Anyway, get to the point.

Seems there’s a Maytag repair guy out in Reno who got a little too bored. From the NY Times:

By using serial numbers he copied from washers and dryers at local retail outlets such as Lowe’s and Fry’s Electronics, he submitted … false claims for repairs and travel expenses to the company…”

Now that’s some nerve. And not only did he rack up bogus repair bills, he racked them up to the tune of over $300,000. In 2006 alone, he submitted claims for over 3,000 repairs. (No wonder Maytag noticed.)

The guy, of course, denies all charges. Now really, luv. Did we expect anything less?

*ding ding* BOOT to the head.

Happy Finkday!

Photo credit: Whirlpool Corp.

Now friends.

I try to be nice. I try to be open-minded. I make it my business to stop and consider a divergent opinion before deciding to agree or disagree. I have even paused before passing any kind of judgment on spoiled-brat, selfish, filthy rich athletes (I am sorry, but nobody is worth $25M a year to swing a ball bat) who wear entitlement like a big fat badge.

But I am now officially at the end of my tether.

**cue weepy Yann Tiersen piano music**

“When I arrived in Texas in 2001, I felt an enormous amount of pressure. I felt like I had all the weight of the world on top of me and I needed to perform, and perform at a high level every day…”

Mm-hm. Yep. And your point?

This is getting ridiculous. Remember back in the early 80s, when there was an absolute bank-run on the insanity defense in American courts? Seemed like every ax murderer and rapist out there either said, “The devil made me do it,” or gave Academy Award performances on the witness stand in attempts to channel Charlie Manson.

Well, I’m starting to see the same trend. I call it the “Young and Stupid” defense.

When have so many gotten so caught and had so few legitimate excuses? What to do then? Ah…look as meek as possible and say, “I’m ashamed. I was under pressure. I was Young and Stupid.”

Tell it to the judge, Alex. You weren’t Young and Stupid. You were Arrogant and Greedy. Sorry, fiends, but I believe (and I’m not alone) that had the news of A-Rod’s steroid use not come to light, he would have never ever ever in his long-legged life admitted to it. I mean, maybe I wouldn’t have, either. But like my mother always said, “A lie will follow you around, and one day, the truth will probably come out.”

Oh, but then I could plead Young & Stupid. Hmmm…..

I want a donut. A stop by Hawkins Bakery this morning, mayhap? I think so.

Fink out (and late!).

Photo credit: John Munson, the Star-Ledger

Yes, more spectral chicanery.

So I was sitting at the box last night, catching up on some emails. The Thriller came up from his office and asked, “Will it bother you if I turn on the TV?”

“Of course not, go right ahead,” says I.

Big mistake. Of course he turns on a spook show. (What was I thinking?) Enter three very serious-looking thirty-somethings; self-proclaimed “investigators” of the existence of the supernatural: stars of the new show with the brilliantly creative title, Ghost Adventures.

Digression: Does anyone else find it amusing (and, in my case, tiring) that many of these shows feature apparent “skeptics” of the paranormal, purporting to go out and disprove the existence of ghosties, only to find that, “Ooh, they really DO exist!” ? Hey, let’s tell people we don’t believe in ghosts, then flip out when we feel that blast of cool air in the dungeon… *sigh* Truly. It’s like a Sci-Fi Channel original movie script — the type that would make Ed Wood proud. [And if you’ve ever seen a Sci-Fi Channel original movie, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.] Anyway…

For the next hour, I was treated to the audio of the show, since I cannot see the TV screen from the parlor. I’ll try to paraphrase the more entertaining bits:

We’re measuring for EMFs — that’s electromagnetic field — which some believe can detect the presence of paranormal entities.”

“Dude, I felt something.”

“OK, Mr. Boots, I hear that you don’t like people invading your space. Well I’m here to tell you that I am invading your space, and if you don’t want me here, you need to come out and tell me.”

“Man, I don’t feel too good.”

“$^#%! Something just touched my hair!”

“Aaaah! Aaaaah! You guys, c’mere!”

“Lower the camera, lower the camera, lower the camera, lower the camera!”

“It’s lowered.”

Right. So. How do you think the spooOoOOky episode ended? Well, in this case, it appears that our pesky poltergeist Mr. Boots caused quite a stir. It seems, according to a blog I read this morning about it, that one of the final shots was of the tour guide having a conversation with the lead investigator, Zak. There was, according to this blogger who watched the show, a noticeable “blur” around Zak, but the tour guide appeared totally clear. Creepy.

And, of course, nobody ever edits film footage or adds production effects. I mean, that would be an attempt to scare or fool people. TV producers would never do that…

Hey, we finally have photographic proof of Mr. Boots’s existence. This from a Flickr account:

I’ve said before that if you watch this stuff purely to laugh at it, or to see great locales on TV, fabulous. But seriously, we all know people who get all buggy-eyed and whispery when they talk about these shows. I want to hug them; console them, make them hot cocoa.

I have a better idea, though. Wanna feel a little creepy? Read The Mysteries of Harris Burdick. That’ll get your imagination going.

Have a great weekend, my fiends.

Fink, hitting the books

Ya know…

I hate to give this guy a Boot to the Head, but geez, people. If you’re going to publish a book or blog or memoirs or personal account or ANYTHING, you need to check your sources, frontways, backways, sideways and allways. And don’t think for a minute that if you publish something to the web, it will go unnoticed by all and sundry, save the people you choose.

So it was for author Neale Donald Walsch, who played the plagiarism card and got caught. Worse, he played it, got caught, and gave a slightly suspicious explanation for it. Worst, he played it, got caught, and gave a slightly suspicious explanation for it — and his book is called Conversations With God. Yikes. That don’t look good for the home team.

What’s Walsch’s excuse for using a Christmas “memory” that belongs to someone else? From the article:

Walsch wrote on his blog Tuesday he was “truly mystified” about what happened and apologized. He said he had been telling the story for years in public talks and “somewhere along the way, internalized it as my own experience.”

Now, I’m willing to give folks the benefit of the doubt. And the article does state that the story circulated uncredited for several years. But honestly now…is Neale saying he’s never in all this time come across another version of that Christmas story? Never? Even though it was widely circulated since 1999?

Hmmm. So he “internalized it” as his own memory. I guess that works, and it can happen to anyone. But it kind of reminds me of this.

I like 2-hour delays.

Fink out.