Tag Archives: Colbert Report

Dear Stephen Colbert (an homage and a plea):

9 Dec

colbert image

Dear Stephen Colbert or shall I call you “Dreamcrusher™?”

The Boy started watching your show about three years ago and since then he has spent every waking moment wishing away years of his life so that the day when he was old enough to attend a live taping of your show would arrive and he would not only score tickets and play his guitar for you, he would also meet Jack White and ultimately become legend among the 13-17 year-old crowd in Upstate, NY.  (Well, maybe not every waking moment.  There were those times where he went to school, played outside, slept, did chores, breathed oxygen, slept, did homework, ate food, slept and wrote songs.  And slept.)

Impossible?  Not for this kid who once overcame having no Monterey Jack cheese in the house by crafting his own grilled cheese using nothing but domestic Brie, pear slices and day old baguette.  The Boy is a warrior.

Now you may ask “what kind of parent encourages a kid to dream so big?” and to you I reply: “a really lazy and/or disengaged one.”  And in a follow-up question to you, Mr. Colbert: “what kind of grown man wears a white daredevil suit, for any reason, ever?”  (Answer: “Stephen Colbert.  Hell, I would too if it meant taking over for Letterman.  Well played, sir.”)

Nation, (note: if there were a “camera two” of writing, here’s where I would turn and face it.  Sadly, all literature has to offer is the paragraph).

Nation, I’ve watched Mr. Colbert during some sweet, sweet eras of comedy when the jokes practically wrote themselves.  Shooting ducks in barrel, if you will.  Or, if you’re Dick Cheney, shooting anyone, anyone at all, in the face.  I also hung in there during some lean moments like when Mr. Colbert kept musician Michael Stipe on a shelf on the set of The Colbert Report.  I’m sure that Mr. Stipe was thankful for that shelf as rents in Manhattan are out of control and R.E.M. record sales aren’t what they used to be.  For what shelf space costs today you used to be able to get an entire bookcase worth.  I’m not saying that Stephen Colbert is without heart.  He’s just without a big heart.

And so I ask you and your heart, Stephen Colbert, to help make one of The Boy’s dreams come true. (All his other dreams involve Sofia Vergara and a diving board.)

Invite The Boy to appear on your new show.  He will play his guitar and tell jaunty tales of eleventh grade life (and also discuss how Elvis Costello often seems to sing in iambic pentameter so if you wish to invite Mr. Costello to appear at the same time, that’s fine).  He will help himself to all the swag and citrus fruit in the green room and make googly eyes at any female with a pulse.

Mr. Colbert, I’ve paid my dues.  I sat on my behind and watched your show for years.  I’m an American, damn it.  Sitting on our behinds and watching TV is one of the things we do best.  (See also “face-shooting,” and “cage-fighting.”)

You owe me.

You owe The Boy.  (Note: if I could raise one eyebrow, I would do that here.)

Don’t make me get out of my chair, Mr. Colbert.  (Because I won’t.)

But you can at least give The Boy some room on your couch.  (Assuming that your new show will even have a couch.  If it’s just people sitting around on shelves, talking, you may want to invite John Mellencamp as he’s small and somewhat dusty too.)

Imagine how a Colbert Bump could alter the destiny of a teenage boy and then do it anyway.  (He has so little to lose.  I’m his mom, I can say that.)

Mr. Colbert, won’t you help a boy, like The Boy?  Or even the actual Boy?

Do it.  Do it now while you are still popular.

#BumpTheBoy

or via email at: BumpTheBoy@gmail.com

(PS: if you need writers for you new show, try emailing BumpTheBoysMom@gmail.com.  Sounds weird but we all thought a spin-off from The Daily Show wouldn’t make it either.)

Best Wishes~

 

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Why The Los Angeles Dodgers Must Lose

16 Oct

blog image j geils band

They took the Dodgers out of Brooklyn.

Then they took Don Mattingly.  (Doesn’t his last name sound like a delightful adverb?  “He loved her mattingly.”  Of course he did.  He’d be a fool not to.  Who is he?)

They then put Mr. Mattingly outside amid palm trees, where all sports are meant to be played, tanned him up and made him look good.  (Side note: I have seen Don Mattingly in person and that tan helps.  August 1997: Spouse, Boy and I all attended Don Mattingly Day at Yankee Stadium.  I know it was 1997 because The Boy was in utero and has had a fear of heights ever since- we didn’t exactly spring for the baseline seats.)

Also, a person can’t get to Dodger Stadium unless they need to get to the LA Costco.  Then it’s nothing but clover leafs and traffic jams until those inexpensive paper goods are a vague memory and you’re left feeling dehydrated and sore and you didn’t even do anything.  (Side side note: I once left the east coast and headed west returning later intending to save enough money to fix my car, buy a pair of Doc Martens and move to Albuquerque.  (This was well before “Breaking Bad” so not only to I get style points for the footwear, I also get premonition hipster points on the nod to Albuquerque.)  Before I could get out-of-town, love happened and here I am with Spouse, Boy, NY and all the black clothing a person could ever want in sizes ranging from “happy/thin/in love” to “winter/carbs/pale.”)  As for mass transit, Los Angeles has a system second only to Paris, London, Japan, China, India, Mexico, Chicago, Boston, DC, The Netherlands, Germany, Italy, Chile and walking in a group.

Celebrities go to LA Dodger games.  Yes, celebrities go to NY Yankee games too but they don’t wear khakis with pastel sweaters knotted around their shoulders (I mean you Dustin Hoffman, Monday, October 14).  New Yorkers wear coats and hats and mittens sometimes; and they’re cold and (often) wet and tired of spending $10 for crappy beer but at least they’re there to root and fight and WIN!  (Mostly fight!  Especially in the seats I can afford.)  New Yorkers do not attend playoff games to be entertained or distracted from the so-so reviews of their directorial debut (again, Mr. Hoffman and “Quartet“).

Finally, if Los Angeles wins, St. Louis loses.  And that would leave Missouri with only the St. Louis Rams (who last won an NFL championship in 1999) and the St. Louis Blues which is a hockey team so no one cares.

Can’t we just let St. Louis win the NLCS until the Phillies return next year?  (Additional back story: the author was born in Pennsylvania.)

Oh, the Cards can’t win The Series.  Detroit must win the championship.  The city needs our help.  Imagine waking up each day knowing that the last wonderful thing to come out of Michigan, besides Eminem (scheduled to appear on SNL on November 2), and Jack White (frequent Colbert Report guest) was The J.  Geils “Live Full House” album and I’m pretty sure that I’m the only person who bought it.  I feel you Detroit.

Won’t you help a city like Detroit and root for the Tigers?  With your help we can bring back this city where the trees are the right height.

I did my part when I bought the J.  Geils, again, on CD.

What can I say?  “First I Look at the Purse” (Robert Rogers/Smokey Robinson) is a classic.

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