Disco. It still exists. Only in nightmares. Or holidays
Why...
To add to the list of things you do on holiday and leave on holiday is dancing to disco music.
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All posts in category: Entertainment/Media/Arts
If an airline can charge you for a seat on a plane that does not exist, why can they also charge you if you don’t appear at the gate?
Why...
Are some airlines hellbent on pi##ing off their passengers, whilst some notable exceptions bend over backwards to be helpful? Let’s face it. Airports in certain cities are in chaos. I recently heard of a passenger checking into First Class on an international carrier asking for his bags to go to Rio as he went to New York. An exasperated check in staff called over the manager who explained this was simply impossible. Baggage had to accompany the passenger. “Well, you managed it last time I flew to New York”, came the response, to a ripple of applause from other passengers.
It’s not about the money … honestly
Why...
Is everyone so coy about admitting ‘I am doing it for the money?’ There is a huge brouhaha going on because a bunch of sportsmen dressed in awful tartan and plaid clothing have decided to whack a few balls around God’s largest bunker, Saudi Arabia. Now, dear reader, have a guess what attracted these already rich men to play golf there? Was it… 1. The quality and diversity of the golf courses bathed in 100 degree heat 2. The range of free alcoholic beverages on offer 3. The chance to dance the night away with local unescorted ladies in some jiving nightclub and the wonderful variety of nightlife and entertainment 4. The opportunity to mingle freely with people of either sex or sexual orientation without fear of segregation or arrest 5. Their support to the regime that chopped up poor journalist Jamal Khashoggi in October 2018, and has a habit of beheading people whose sexual orientation or religion they disagree with, bans free speech and can use torture as a punishment from courts…… or 6. Could it possibly be the multimillion dollar prize money? Whilst trying not to reveal themselves as the money grabbing venal people most of us are, the golfers have tied themselves into a Gordian knot trying to say money was the last reason they agreed to the tour. Such a shame. I would have hugely respected the man who had piped up and said: “The only reason to visit this godforsaken sandpit with stone-age rules about women and gay people is to make vast amounts of money. If people honestly believe my presence here has anything to do with supporting a repressive regime they are either dreaming or drive in Formula I.” Previous F1 events have taken place in such well known beacons of human rights as Russia, Turkey, Bahrain, China, Qatar, Azerbaijan, Saudi Arabia and AbuDhabi.
Why a spring break is like a Pringle
Why...
During two years of lockdown and feeling like Papillon on Devil’s Island, locked in and no way out, my wife and I took the sports car to Sicily then on to Calabria and Puglia in the boot of Italy. The problem was we did not want to come home. After being cooped up in Malta, an island so small you could carpet it in an afternoon, the sense of freedom was overwhelming. And just like a single Pringle, a short break is not nearly enough. Had we not had two pooches waiting for us, we would be in Croatia by now on the way to Istanbul!
Hmmmm. A gorgeous hint of bullshit, with on-the-palate flavour of Edward Lear nonsense poems and a strong aftertaste of swallowing a quaalude and The Complete Oxford dictionary. Welcome to tasting notes on wine and spirits
Why...
Are descriptions of taste so pompous and indecipherable? I read recently that a wooden cask tub of Macallans Whisky, which was bought for £5,000 thirty years ago on a whim of I suspect some rich dipso, has just sold for over £1m! To justify this ludicrous bar bill, that works out at around £2,000 a bottle, the descriptions of the taste have reached epic proportions of nonsense. Can anyone really tell me what… “a yellow halo with a mesmerising nose with a scent of salted caramel drizzled chocolate brownie restrained with a background of fresh orange marmalade and neroli with a dying hint of tobacco leaf” really smells like? To me it stinks like an Oreo cookie covered in Robertson finest Golden Shred marmalade, sprinkled with fag ends. And that’s just the smell. The rapturous pretentious waffle goes into overdrive when describing the taste; I dare you to read this and take it seriously. “On the palate waves of sweetness carries and mingles mature oak and library leather bound book dryness. This breaks into a regal spice mix of nutmeg ginger and ground coriander, over a wash of ginger perkin biscuits, soft buttery dates and freshly baked Danish apricot pastries.” (London The Times 27 April 2022) A perkin biscuit? WTF is that? I mean, just line up six whiskies and tell me which one they are referring to. “I say, Cedric, I think it might be this one though I not sure if the spice mix is regal enough and I think sweaty sock juice mingled with old leather football boots more apt than library books.” What makes my jaw hit the floor in admiration at the effusive nonsense is the ingredients of scotch are simply malted barley, water and yeast. And yet it reads here that someone tipped half the content of the unused drawer in the kitchen into the still used to ferment the whisky. The people who write this tripe I assume double as Real Estate novelists. The people who describe bathrooms as bijoux when you have to stand on the loo to shut the door.
Beelzebub is extremely grateful to TV’s commissioning editors
Why...
Is streamed TV drama suddenly so boring? I don’t know if you have noticed but after a cracking first few years, Netflix, Prime and Hulu et al are abandoning main stream entertainment for more PC and worthy subjects. “Shame on you,” I hear you all cry. However, this is my blog and you are welcome to challenge me. My theory however, is very simple. Back in the day when Netflix etc. were Davids to the established broadcast Goliaths, the middle aged owners took a keen interest in the commissioning process. Not least because they simply did not have the luxury of appointing high flying commissioning editors. They sought out established producers which gave out massive hits like, Bosch, Money Heist, Sneaky Pete, The Grand Tour, Catastrophe, The Kominsky Method, The Handmaid’s Tale etc., etc. (Before you say Breaking Bad remember that was an AMC show that caught fire on Netflix due to every episode being available in one go).
Orgies are overrated
Why...
Ever since some Roman Oligarch came up with the idea of a vomitorium, have orgies have gone down hill? In this little cubicle there was a flowerpot full of feathers with which you could tickle the back of your throat, throw up then go back to eating and fornicating with an empty stomach so you could start eating again… but with breath that could strip wallpaper. I mean would you snog a puke smelling orgy participant, even if it was Bradus Pittus or Angelina Jolia? The orgies from the Ottoman’s must have been as exciting as watching paint dry. One bloke, the Sultan, and dozens of members of his harem. I suspect the whole shebang lasted five minutes with most of the girls just casual observers till the Grand Vizir, seeing his Lord and master already spent, called for a time out with a round of backgammon and some squares of Turkish delight. A male fantasy but in reality all over before all the ‘toys’ have been unwrapped.
A musical instrument is a friend for life
Why...
Do parents inflict on their children the misery of learning an instrument?
Well of course the answer to the above is probably one upmanship and ignorance.
“My Johnnie is learning the recorder…”
“Ah yes, the sweet little simpleton’s flute. Miranda found that soooooo easy she is now playing the oboe…”
All this lasts as long as the parent can stand the noise. No sane person would ever inflict on themselves, a child practicing the violin. Strangling a cat produces melodic bliss in comparison.
Then of course you get trendy parents who allow kids something a bit more useful and contemporary like drums or electric guitar. That is just masochistic. An electric guitar wails, and it’s the listener who ‘gently weeps’.
Drum solos are like nails down a blackboard even at a rock concert, but performed for hours on end, it is likely to end in mass murder. In addition, unlike a pair of maracas which your child can carry anywhere, you need a lorry to lug a drum kit about and a fork lift truck to load the stuff into the lorry. And then what? If your beloved keeps it up, he or she will spend all their teenage years doing no work but instead auditioning for bands convinced they are the next Nirvana.
It’s not over till the fat lady sings
Why...
Do we expect the TV news anchors to read the future?
Such is our insatiable appetite for news bites, we have forgotten how to sit down for a proper five course news meal.
It doesn’t matter if it’s Oscar nominees (yawn), COVID rules, Putin’s lack of rules or who is going to run as US President in the next elections, newscasters are permanently trying to predict these answers rather than wait and report them.
I am amazed that CNN or Fox News don’t have a crystal ball on their bulletin desks or their outside reporters don’t include Mystic Meg and Nostradamus. I suspect for the weather reports, these last two may be better than the systems currently employed! Last week in London I got soaked on what was supposed to be “sunny with occasional clouds”.
Before I agree to sign on for 2022 I want to read the small print
Why...
It is good riddance to bad rubbish that was 2021. Everyone seems to have suffered. In my case, multiple surgeries, a law suit and a multi-coloured silk shirt my wife decided looked like a kaftan on me and nearly led to divorce!
I used to think ‘annus horribilis’ was a polite way of describing a bad case of piles. However, 2021 will take some beating as a pretty grim year and in fact a pretty grim decade. The only roaring of this Century 20’s is from frustrated revellers and travellers!
Much as I look forward to the sunny uplands of 2022, I can envision the lookalike of Harry Potter character Dobby, a.k.a Putin taking a bite out of the Ukraine and depending on the West’s reaction, Panda Xi helping himself to a new form of Chinese takeaway, Taiwan.
Then we have a Winter Olympics in which all western dignitaries have stamped their diplomatic foot and refused to partake of Dimsum and a glass of Baijiu with the hosts. In addition, despite locking down anything that moves, COVID seems intent on derailing that spectacle.
Vital academic study shows The Hulk has piles
Why...
Are academics allowed to waste resources on utterly pointless research.
The University of Queenstown have been working diligently on the health issues of Marvel Superheroes. Yup that’s right, they spent hours of University time to come to the following conclusions after reviewers watched 24 Marvel films… the superheroes would all face chronic conditions in old age. The Hulk’s excessive weight and permanent anger means he is at risk to a series of diseases, from heart attacks and dementia to maybe piles. Black Widow’s traumatic childhood means she is at increased risk of becoming physically and mentally ill. Spider Man works at night as a teenager which means he is not getting the recommended eight hours of sleep which leads to health problems, obesity and unintentional injuries. So now it’s woke problems that affect fictional characters. Anger, lack of eight hours sleep and traumatic childhood. You couldn’t make this up… well, you don’t need to. It’s research into made up people. Academics have gone loopy.
Whatever happened to the three martini lunch?
Why...
Have we let naked ambition put cordial working relationships on a strict diet? Of course I blame purple braces, red Porsches and Gordon Gekko. The first casualty from Big Bang in the 1980’s was the three martini lunch. If lunch was for wimps, then count me in (if that’s no too much trouble)! I remember my early days in the City working in Lloyd’s Insurance market on Kidnap and Ransom insurance. Twice a year I would have lunch in the Directors boardroom at Fenchurch Street Brokers with an underwriter who got deeply offended if after cocktails then wine, we did not finish off a bottle of port. Of course we were fried as owls and no work was done that afternoon, but we never had a row, always got our man back if someone was kidnapped and the world shone brightly through the gimlet of the bi-annual assault on our livers. Could this Underwriter have been a touch richer, more ruthless and generate more moohlah for his company? Possibly? But then I probably would not have wanted to spend time with him or give him my business. In 1980 everything suddenly got serious. Fun was out as the new slave drivers assured us no one could possibly get rich being a bit silly. I suppose that’s one reason why shortly after Big Bang I left the City and ended up working for a man who had made millions sticking his hand up a Frog’s bottom. Jim Henson and The Muppets were back then an Entertainment behemoth... and not that we ever overindulged in anything to the detriment of that wonderful company, but indulge we all did. And it all (like Kermit) went along swimmingly. Chalk one up to the silly people.
“I would rather cry in my Rolls-Royce than laugh on a bicycle” - Patrizia Reggiani, the notoriously greedy wife to Maurizio Gucci… whom she murdered. I agree
Why...
Whoever said the best things in life are free is an idiot. He or she probably believes stars are God’s daisy chain or that rain is just liquid sunshine.
Before you all leap to fire emails at me like Exocet missiles, note the word things.
Love, friendship, good health, a decent moral compass, humour, compassion etc… yes they are the building blocks of happiness… but not things.
Things are what you can touch, be it jets, yachts, mansions, jewellery, caviar, Vintage Krug; even a pair of gravity defying boobs or a six pack. In each case they are eye-wateringly expensive. In fact, the only limit is the size of your wallet and personal greed or lack of taste or real sense of self worth.
However, some of these excesses imbue in me not only head shaking incredulity but equally a feeling of moral and intellectual superiority that the super rich can be super stupid. I remember meeting one of the Producers of Dallas who told me the secret to it’s success (and for the same reason Dynasty) was:
“There is nothing more satisfying than the eye-candy of rich people lives and toys then to watch them screw up a situation you think you could handle better yourself.”
Things like Vicuña cod pieces for $5,000 or a Hammacher Schlemmer single ice cube maker for $759.95 are not on my wish list now and if I won the Lottery, I cannot see they would ever be.
Have you got your Easter Bonnet ready?
Why...
Do certain holiday traditions fill me with dread... or make me laugh like a hyena.
Easter is a weird holiday. Firstly you never know when it is. Easter Sunday is something to do with a full moon after another date that for me always has the whiff of the werewolf about it. Certainly it’s pagan.
From the Christian point of view it’s ultimately about rebirth but it starts with a pretty grim death. Yet in public lore it seems more to centre on chocolate eggs and hats only someone with a strong neck like Mike Tyson can wear.
And bunnies. How does a bunny get tied to an egg? Maybe David Attenborough can help?
Ozzies hate the bunnies the British introduced and would rather stick needles in their eyes than celebrate them. They have chocolate bilby instead; the bilby being their indigenous rodent and looking like a cross between Pinocchio’s nose and a hare.
My new travel agent
Why...
Has my TV and cable remote turned into TripAdvisor?
Having run the gamut of US and UK located shows I have started choosing my televisual feasts on where I fancy visiting or want to return to now that lockdown is giving me island fever here in Malta. I have not set off the rock for over a year and though a lovely place it’s so small you could carpet it in an afternoon.
The Serpent gave me a decent dose of Thailand, Nepal and India. My sister is so ancient she can remember the rumours of a serial killer praying on backpackers in the 1960s in Asia.
Yearning for a bit of ice and snow I watched the thriller Cardinal, set in Algonquin. Not the hotel in New York where Dorothy Parker held court with such gems as “Every morning I brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue” or “beauty is only skin deep but ugly goes to the bone”, but some snow hole north of Toronto where a serial killer was plying his trade.
Next I hopped over to the beaches of Sydney for Deep Waters followed by the anodyne surroundings of Canberra in Secret City, Australia’s own House of Cards.
To add to the feeling of local immersion, these shows have to be binge watched, accompanied by meals and booze from the country of the series. So possum burgers and Bundaberg Rum for Oz, Moose Lager and maple syrup pancakes for Canada and chilly Mo-Mo washed down with Tongba for Nepal. (Look it up). No wonder my diet isn’t working. Maybe I need to watch more shows from Japan or other low fat diet countries.
In fact maybe TV watching can be part of a diet?!
2021... about bloody time!
Why...
I shall stay up till midnight this New Year’s Eve?
Like guests who have overstayed their welcome and I shed crocodile tears as I wave a relieved good bye, I shall bid an un-fond farewell to 2020. Indeed, I shall stay up to make sure we do go into January 1st 2021 rather than have Groundhog Day and get stuck on 31 December 2020.
There is no need to dwell on the all the obvious reasons of why I shall be ecstatic to say Adieu to 2020; US elections, riots, Brexit and COVID.
Here are a few less known things that have expired and I am saying goodbye to in 2021.
My Tabasco sauce of five years,
My Lea & Perrins of ten years ago and
Any Twinkie cakes buried in the cupboard and bought when my Kindergarten teacher was born must also now go the the giant dustbin in the sky.
I know that within a month of every electrical guarantee expiring, the gadgets will all go phut... unless I paid money for an extension on the guarantee. The equipment will duly give up the ghost the next day after expiry of the longer warranty.
Unbelievably, beer only lasts four months from bottling. Whoever has kept beer that long anyway?
Bruce Springsteen was right... ???? 57 Channels and nothing on????
Why...
Can’t I find something to watch? The most common question I get nowadays is not about COVID measures, UK versus EU or how Donald Trump combs his hair. It is... “Have you seen a good series recently?” There are two things we all have in common during lockdown. One is continually opening the fridge and expecting to see different content despite not having been to the shops to feed it. The other is binge watching TV series, despite earlier stated noble ideas of learning via the Internet fluent Swahili or being able to perform open heart surgery armed only with a Swiss Army knife. This is where Springsteen was prophetic in his song from 1992. You would think with more drama being produced than ever before this would be easy. There is no doubt that the best of television now is the best ever created. The most talented writers, stars and directors are forming orderly queues outside the offices of Netflix, Hulu, Showtime, HBO and Amazon Prime. Unlike us at the cinema. However, I have a problem. Everyone wants to create a Fargo, The Bridge, Breaking Bad or other cutting edge shows. Sadly many fall as flat as one of my soufflés. Can we not have a sprinkling of less edgy but more accessible shows? Not every lead has to be damaged, not every scene shot at night or every plot about the evils of drugs, dysfunctional families, child abuse, serial killers or big Pharma. (PS this last group along with another baddie, single use plastic, have just saved our asses so back off a bit maybe?) I am not asking for wall to wall Murder She Wrote or Midsomer Murders. I have sleeping pills that have the same effect. However, there are numerous thrillers, drama stories and even comedy books out there that are a little more mainstream and would make great TV. Or do I need to be put down as I am obviously getting old and crinkly?
Find me someone who can undo a child lock and I’ll find you a Houdini in the making
Why...
Do I need the dexterity of a safe cracker to open a jar of vitamins? I am always amazed at Health and Safety’s belief in the stupidity of others. Of course dangerous things should be kept away from the vulnerable. And that includes some parents from kids. Why should responsibility and common sense be the albatross around Proctor and Gamble’s neck? I was at a dinner party recently and instead of after dinner games like Ibble Dibble or Are you there Moriarty?, we were presented with the challenge of trying to open a box of washing pods. Impossible. Perhaps colouring them like sweets is not super smart but you’d need a mouth like Julia Robert’s to actually eat one. A) just keep box away from kids, B) give them a huge telling off if they try to even reach for them and, C) explain they taste yuck. Give them a tablespoon of mustard if they don’t believe you. Tough lessons worked on every generation back to the dawn of civilisation. Whether it was... “Don’t kick a sleeping saber tooth tiger,” Or “Never wear a black conical hat and talk to your cat in front of the Inquisition,” up to Don’t lick the plug socket! It was pretty simple. If you did, the consequences were your own fault. Nowadays it’s never your fault, even if you are as thick as a whale omelette. Accidents are never caused by kids because no one told them not to... put the cat in the microwave to dry it, not to get stuck toast out of a live toaster with a fork or jump off the roof using a plastic bag as a parachute.
This is not a full stop . It’s a lethal weapon
Why...
Be woke? I understand the woke generation are now bleating that a full stop/period is offensive and could be taken as a sign of aggression. Therefore, it must no longer be used in punctuation. Aggression is when Hitler invaded Poland. Or hijacker Leila Khaled who was convicted as a terrorist took over a TWA jumbo jet in 1969. But recently she was invited to San Fransisco State University to address a forum on Gender Justice and Resistance. Did I miss reading about this exchange? “Right. We are taking over this plane. Men to the left aisle, women to the right. Those among you who are gender neutral, we will be letting you disembark.” I don’t think so.
The end is nigh
Why...
Does anyone believe the cinema will survive? Tell me what is wrong with this likely conversation between studio Execs... “So hey, Covid. Bummer, like, no one is going to the cinema”, says the Distribution Gofer. “Right, so let’s pull all the movies that could get people back now and wait till we are sure we can squeeze the maximum return with everyone going back to the theatres in a year’s time”, says the other Exec. “OK, but surely those who don’t go to the cinema now will pay us for pay per view instead. What’s the point in holding off if we kill the business...” the Gofer replies. “Doh! Why release now when we might miss out on better box office numbers in the future?”, Exec “Yeah, great, I feel you... but in the meantime by not giving any product, won’t the cinema chains go bust... so isn’t holding back a year kind of self defeating?”, replies the Gofer. “When I want your opinion, I will give it to you!” Honestly, the knuckleheads at the studios are dumber than dog slobber. The patient is dying of starvation so to solve the problem let’s give him no food at all! Of course it’s sheer greed. If they wait six months plus, they hope more people might go back to Cinemas, but it’s a moot point. The movie theatres won’t exist by then!