I have yet to master the sit-down. This is not to be confused with the sit-in made popular in political seasons such as these. The sit-down to which I refer relates to the fact that last week’s hernia surgery still plays a significant role in the day-to-day of this aging correspondent. Who knew that sitting upright in front of a word processor requires the flexing of one’s core? Those few muscles I have left around the stomach area can not only distract, they can just plain hurt.
I am okay. I have been told not to exercise for up to six weeks. A prescription not to do something I hate doing anyway seemed a small price to pay for ridding myself of the growing discomfort in my left groin.
It has been just over a week since my operation and, as you might well imagine, I have been watching quite a bit of TV. Some of it is not too bad, but most of it is not worthy of much in the way of a mention.
Bad Monkey has some cute stuff to recommend as a kind of funky cop show set in the Florida Keys. You could do worse, and Vince Vaughn’s presence as the lead in the Apple TV+ series is a definite plus. Slow Horses, also on Apple TV+ is better… but only if you are into the British way of presenting their version of a spy drama where, inevitably, the spooks wind up looking inward at their own failings rather than that of whatever enemy they are sworn to oppose. Gary Oldman is perfect, followed closely by Kristin Scott Thomas and Jonathan Pryce. The rest of the cast is first rate as well… still, it is not for everyone.
The limited series, Presumed Innocent, starring Jake Gyllenhaal might be worth your time. I would grade it a B- which is fair praise for a suspense series with a disappointing contrivance for an ending. I thought Peter Sarsgaard was particularly good and even better was the guy who played his boss, O-T Fagbenle. It is on Apple TV+.
Finally, via Disney+, there is Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour (Taylor’s “version”). It is anything but… swift, that is. Three-and one-half hours of a stadium show filmed in front of a live audience of 70,000 plus. Ms. Swift is, I must assume from all I have read, something of a show biz and money making phenomenon. You could not prove it by me. She is pleasant enough to look at, but three and a half hours of her songs… which all sound pretty much alike… C’mon, Sinatra would not have even considered doing such a thing, nor would Streisand, and both are easily so much better than this young woman will ever be. Her voice is limited, and her dancing is rudimentary.
Please no letters refuting my dim view of this luminary. I get that she is the all-American girl, that her endorsement of someone running for President is meaningful, and that I am on the wrong side of some kind of movement here. Blame It on my recent surgery and move on. Lest it go unsaid, the special is particularly well directed and produced.
I am just about out of sit-down tolerance. By way of closing, let me segue into what follows, some of it written pre-surgery as a follow-up to my last column.
Nine years ago, I was on a visit to Los Angeles when a writer friend called to invite me to join her and some pals for cocktails and hors d’oeuvres and to watch the year’s first prime-time Republican Presidential debate. It was the kick-off for an election that would take place more than 15 months later.
Within minutes of the start of the FOX presentation, the Beverly Hills crowd had left the TV viewing area to imbibe, leaving me alone in the dark with Jeb Bush, Scott Walker, Mike Huckabee, Ben Carson, Ted Cruz, Marco Rubio, Rand Paul, Chris Christie, John Kasich, and Donald J. Trump.
As the debate ended, those previously in my company returned, curious about who I thought was the likely winner and eventual candidate to replace Barack Obama in the White House.
I believe I surprised everyone in that assemblage of Hollywood lefties by picking the guy who 15 months later would defeat Hillary Clinton to become the 45th President of the United States.
Asked to explain this choice, I espoused my thesis that Americans do not know very much about government or governing; they are not well educated in civics, nor are they particularly well read on history or politics. I was diplomatic enough not to point out how each of them had abandoned the televised debate, preferring their prosecco to politics, but instead went on to conclude: “What our fellow citizens do very well, however… is watch television.” Pausing for effect, I then added, “Donald Trump is good television.”
He is, too. As flawed and under-educated as he is… and has proven himself to be, for the past decade he has flummoxed the better educated, the more articulate, and the more knowledgeable of his adversaries. It is as if he has learned to defy gravity as he looms large over and into all our lives, through the massive crowds that gather at his rallies, into our living rooms via our television screens where, Elmer Gantry-like, he preaches and teaches us a new gospel.
That was then. Nine years later there is a new girl in town, and the TV is rocking with this whole fresh look. And it is “the look,” that is an essential part of the visual medium of television. It is not just who is prettier, or who is the better dresser. It is about contrast: Cagney & Lacey… Starsky & Hutch… the ampersands may signify partnership, but there is a reason one is a blonde and the other a brunette, why one comes from a working-class environment and the other does not. Think about any wrestling match you ever saw on your home television screen; it is all about contrast… the yin and the yang.
This year, two old white guys were set for a rematch of their 2020 contest. The contrast… at least visually… just was not enough to capture the imagination of the American public. Interest in the election was at an historic low.
That has now all taken a very dramatic… great TV… turn. Our election is no longer about two old guys but is now a battle of the sexes coupled with young versus old. Did you see her acceptance speech at the Democratic convention? Ms. Harris is not anyone’s apprentice. What she delivered amid a perfectly produced Democratic convention was one of the best acceptance speeches of my lifetime. What she dispelled, in the process, was any doubt that she is anything less than fully capable of taking on the mantle of leader of the free world. What had failed to excite the American voter is now in the past.
Whatever side you are on, it all makes for terrific TV and (surprise, surprise) America is watching. Ratings for the conventions were record breakers. It really is a good sign with a great headline: America Wins.
Post-Script: Never mind that I find it slightly disconcerting that Ms. Harris looks an awful lot like one of my ex-wives. I am going to bite the bullet and vote for her anyway.
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