Welcome back to The Bootleg”¦and the end of my sanity.
Today is the final day of my weeklong reprisal of the role that defined Michael Keaton’s film career. And, no, I’m not talking about the murderous Beetlejuice (well, have you seen Alec Baldwin or Geena Davis, lately?) or Jack Frost, which co-starred John Travolta’s wife, who’s fast approaching Luis Sojo territory as it relates to the sheer longevity of a shitty career.
Y’see, since Monday, I’ve been Mr. Mom. Or, for those of you too young to remember: just think of me as the doting gay father from My Two Dads or Two and a Half Men (that would be Greg Evigan and Jon Cryer, respectively).
While Mrs. Bootleg’s been earning a living, it’s been me who’s had to stay home with the child and I’ve certainly learned a lot over the past five days:
1.) Daytime TV sucks: When did television turn into the halfway house for the unemployed and unemployable? And does your local library know that TV has stolen its gimmick? I can handle the trashy talk shows, the infomercials and the incessant advertisements for ambulance chasers and cheap insurance.
But, the stations simply have to do a better job of letting viewers know when The Cosby Show is on. Far too many times this week, I’ve unwittingly stumbled into an episode of the inferior Cosby and unable to find the remote. I don’t want to meet the man who can sit through 30 minutes of anything with Doug E. Doug. (Cool Runnings, notwithstanding).
2.) Confinement does not equal fun: Don’t think that it’s all Easy Street the next time one of your friends or classmates gets sentenced to house arrest. Trust me: I, too, thought it would be fun and exciting. Y’know, like that movie, Spaceballs. But, instead it’s been painful and disturbing like that movie, House Arrest.
I could easily leave the house and take my chances outdoors, but I simply can’t run the risk that I’ll leave something behind that my son desperately needs. When Mrs. Bootleg travels with the boy, I half-expect her to load up a pack mule with all the bottles, and diapers that she brings with her. Of course, moments later I always realize that her mother lives in Utah and couldn’t possibly make it to San Diego that quickly.
(Man, how did it take me this long to make a cheap Mother-in-Law joke?)
3.) Homemaker is not real work: That’s why you don’t get paid for it. Here were the major crises of the week: Jalen put his foot into his bowl of rice cereal and one day he didn’t poo. That’s it. The rest of the time we laid on the floor, watched DVDs or he slept, while I was on the computer.
Don’t be fooled by those baby’s mommas, my friends. If it was really that hard to be a stay-at-home mom, do you think she’d be at the club tryin’ to pick you up on Friday night? And you wonda why they call u bitch”¦
It’s the first weekend of fall”¦celebrate, with The Goodness!
I’m Even Richer, Biiatch!
One of the biggest music news stories of the year went down a few days ago, but since it didn’t involve one of those overlooked “indy” bands that everyone tells you to support until they make it big and are subsequently turned against by their one-time fans”¦you probably missed it.
The Fugees reunited for a performance at Dave Chappelle’s Block Party in New York. It was the first time since 1997 that Lauryn Hill, Pras and Wyclef shared a stage together. Their set, along with other acts like Kanye West and Dead Prez, is slated to appear as part of a DVD compilation of the day’s events and performances.
This has been quite the year for Mr. Chappelle, no? He just signed a gazillion dollar deal to stay with Comedy Central and scored a cut of future Chappelle Show DVD profits as part of the package. And, more importantly, he’s officially become the latest in the short list of Black comics to be accepted in White homes.
Ah, but beware, Dave”¦the white man’s fickle favor can crumble like a cracker if you’re not careful. Chris Rock crossed over with some HBO specials and a late-night cable talk show in the mid-90s. Before you knew it, “the big piece of chicken” and “tossing your salad” became staples of suburban sentence structure. Then, along came Pootie Tang.
Before that, Eddie Murphy was arguably the top box office draw of the ’80s and single-handedly juxtaposed names like Judge Reinhold and Dan Akroyd with the phrase “blockbuster”. Not to be confused with the Blockbuster that Reinhold is known for today. And, in a related note, Akroyd quit last week and accepted a similar position with Hollywood Video.
Anyway, my point is that the lifespan of the Black comedian in the White community is about two to five years. Sure, there’ll be the occasional outlier like Bill Cosby, but if I can ditch the whole “Bootleg” persona and be serious for a minute”¦
Wait a minute”¦
“Crumble like a cracker”¦” Hey, I just got that!
Just Because There’s Snow On The Roof”¦
Earlier this week, Lil’ Kim’s bodyguard was sentenced to 12 years for his role in the controversial shooting that has followed Kim around like stretch marks and back fat. If you’ve already forgotten (and really, who could blame you?) Kim is set to stand trial in 2005 on charges that she lied to a Grand Jury regarding what she knew about the events of the 2001 incident.
To that end, Kim has hired a high-profile public relations firm called 5W to help her clean up her image and present a more “friendly and accessible” face to the media. What an odd move. I mean, I’ve never met Lil’ Kim, but just one look and we can all agree that she’s synonymous with Friendly. As for her “accessibility””¦well, let’s just say the train runs through her (and I’m not using my Nelly accent).
Her inexplicable image as a sexpot is fast approaching the unconvincing levels of “Mona” from Who’s The Boss? and “Blanche” from The Golden Girls. Thankfully, Hollywood has seen the light and begun phasing out the middle-aged MILFs, before their crow’s feet and false teeth get one more minute of airtime than they deserve.
Sources call it “The Rene Russo Rule”.
Let’s Hope An English Class is Part of His Curriculum
Coming to the Fox Network later this year: Nelly’s pint-sized protégé, Murphy Lee stars as a rapper-turned-college student who juggles the pressures of fame and fortune with campus life and co-ed strife. No word if Sally Kellerman or Sam Kinison will be available to reprise their roles (yeah, I know”¦see, that’s the joke).
And, since Murphy is Black, we’ll probably need to get the diving subplot out of the script and replace it with”¦umm, let’s see, it’s been a few years for me”¦what exactly do bruthas play in college these days besides NBA Live ’95?
And, how come the guys in our TV Zone didn’t mention this before? Well, I’m told there are two reasons”¦one, they don’t (quote) do (unquote) urban programming and two, the above isn’t a TV story. It’s real.
Those of you reading this in the computer lab of Southeast Missouri State University still have time to mail in your school’s credibility”¦along with your lab fees!
Help me out here: have the college’s administrators never sat through Higher Learning? Letting rappers into college can only result in two hours of liberal grandstanding, dozens of poorly written caricatures and Tyra Banks: actress.
Seriously, even the Black folk in the audience were rooting for Michael Rappaport at the end.
Can You Hear Me Now?
Sprint PCS, the service-dropping cell phone behemoth, has created “Bling Tones”. It’s proudly pimped as the first mobile-phone record label and offers Sprint phone customers original beats from Hip Hop producers such as Hi-Tek and Rockwilder to download from the Sprint site.
And how proud these producers must be to go from lacing tracks for Snoop Dogg and Jay-Z right on down to the pink phones of Amber and Becky. Christ, as soon as Chuck D needs a new pair of acid washed Levi’s or KRS-One wants the public to know that rigor mortis hasn’t yet set in, can we expect to see these two has-beens dropping some of their own lethargic liver spots of lyricism for Nextel or Verizon?
Now, believe it or not, there’s actually something that’s more ghetto than Hip Hop ring tones. And I’m sending this one out to my people: please quit recording answering machine greetings with some fleeting, flavor-of-the-month R&B or rap track in the background.
Because the next step is going out in public with hair curlers and corduroy house shoes (slippers, my Caucasian brothers, slippers).
Oh, Marshall”¦You’re Such A Free Spirit!
Eminem is already lining things up for the upcoming release of his fourth album, Encore. Earlier this week, he completed filming of the video from the first single, Just Lose It.
A-a-a-a-and in that wacky Slim Shady fashion, he shocks us all (again) by wearing nothing but shoes and one sock in several scenes. Now, I’m probably the last Black fan that Em has left, but doesn’t anyone else think it’s time to change the “outrageously nonsensical first single” formula that he employed with My Name Is, Without Me and The Real Slim Shady?
If Slim were a sitcom star, this sort of predictable plot device would rank somewhere between Jack Tripper and the Three’s Company girls always being late with the rent or Jack Tripper and the Three’s Company girls always confusing an innocent conversation with one about sex.
Hey, does anyone remember when a man living with two women on TV was considered “pushing the envelope”? And does anyone remember when Joyce DeWitt wasn’t an embittered hag who hasn’t worked in 20 years? Oh, and do any of you remember Otter Pops? I loved those.
Sometimes The News Just Writes Itself
50 Cent is slated to make his movie debut with the release of Locked and Loaded, a “semiautobiographical” flick that’s actually still not past the screenwriting phase yet. It’s the coming-of-age tale of a former drug dealer who tries to leave the world of dope and smack for a career as a rapper.
See, kids, in that world, “dope” means “good” and “smack” is only used before “”¦down my bitch”. And why’s that”¦?
Right”¦because she had it coming.
Obviously, this is a shameless money run to capitalize on the success of Eminem’s 8 Mile flick. Say what you will about Em’s wooden performance, but the fact that it had major studio dollars backing it gave it at least a sense of credibility, to say nothing of the strong supporting performances by Mekhi Phifer and Kim Basinger.
50 must not realize that he’s going to be starring in the dreaded Black Movie and A-List African-American actors (all four of ’em) have already paid their dues in BMs and wouldn’t be caught dead on the set of another one, even in support of Mr. Cent.
Does 50 think he’ll land Halle Berry as his love interest? Please”¦not after her turns in B.A.P.S., Strictly Business and Boomerang. Hey, maybe Omar Epps can play the requisite “big brother whose senseless murder in the first act forces 50 to reevaluate his life”? Whoops, sorry”¦his résumé already includes Juice.
From here, it looks like the list of available Black talent is down to: the chunky brutha from Phat Beach, that guy who played ‘Eddie’ on Family Matters and, yes, Samuel L. Jackson.
Unless it conflicts with the filming of Formula 51 II
Classic Nick’a Please
conceptualized by Nick Salemi
Nick will return next week”¦in his place, I dug up an old IM snippet from over a year ago”¦
Adventures in IM
nicksalemi: Destro could have been Black, too. He was very James Earl Jones-ish
ajcameron13: I dunno…that shiny silver mask woulda been hell for his razor bumps.
nicksalemi: holy shit!
nicksalemi: call Hasbro right now
General Haberdashery
I don’t want to sound like a cacki (sic) M.F. or anything”¦but, the entire Inside Pulse team has been bringing their own special brand of Goodness each and every day, since our August debut.
Now, don’t get confussed (sic) by the weekly mentions of my favorite 411 writers. Even though, “this is suppose to be my day off” (sic sic sic), I can still show them love.
Fernandez takes advantage of an inebriated Elliot Smilowitz and finally includes a picture of himself with one of his columns. Quick aside: Jeff, where did you get that red skully and how long have you been affiliated with The Bloods’?
Gloomchen takes you back to 1996 on a stroll through her angst-ridden youth. Wanna know the difference between white folk and black folk? Sweet Lady Tuesday has hundreds and hundreds of words on that year, while my people could’ve summed it up in four: That’s when Tupac… I’m sorry, it’s still”¦too”¦raw.
Mathan argues both sides of the great sampling debate”¦with himself and a special guest Mathan. As an aside, have you ever noticed how every friend, roommate and confidant of this guy is a female? Wait, wait, wait”¦and you’re an Internet writer?
Tom D’Eathblow has retooled his column, this time featuring any and all things metal. He’s like one of those periodic tables set to”¦oh, I don’t know, someone give me a great metal band”¦.umm, how ’bout Manowar? Speaking of which, who can tell me the atomic weight of Bolognium? Ooh, delicious!
Movie Joe Reid comes clean regarding his on-again/off-again relationship with Winona Ryder. She”¦stole his heart, apparently.
No? Nothing? Not even a titter? Hmm, tough sub.
Also, look for his Bill O’Reilly/Ghostbusters II connection and the never-before-seen-use of “pornographically” and “Jesus” in the same sentence. Somewhere, the heads of Eric S. and Mitch Michaels have simultaneously exploded.
Junk Mail
The Hot Ugly Chicks piece is still bringing the feedback. And with Jeff Fernandez’ Late Night Jukebox streak dying the same week that Jerry Rice’s games with a catch streak keeled over, this might be the current longest running IP/411 Music Feature out there today.
T-Shirts are forthcoming.
As a longtime fan of the column, the unattractive attractive woman section had me rolling. Linda Cohn was my 1st round pick as well. I felt I had to add a name or 2 to the list. My first name isn’t a woman that’s really popular, but fits the mold.
Stacy London from ‘What not to wear’: She’s not that cute, and she’s a bitch, but deep down, you get the feeling that after a day of hanging with gay men and making people feel like shit, she wants nothing more than to come home and have some c*ck shoved in her a**.
Tracy Ullman: She’s not cute, but something about Tracy screams “I’m a fantastic f*ck”
Nicole Richie: She’s far from a looker, but you figure you might as well see if she lives up to the hype.
If I think of more, I’ll let you know. -Ray
Life With the Bootleg Family
Last Saturday, the whole Cam Fam attended this year’s NICU Reunion.
That’s short for Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit and it’s where our son spent the first five weeks of his life. Every year, the hospital celebrates all the little miracles who survived their preemie ordeal”¦apparently by making all the fathers in attendance wish that they could spend a few hours in an incubator just to escape the madness.
See, my wife is one of those gals who finds out that a party is starting at 8:00 and wants to be there at 7:45. As pretty much anyone knows, the only things you’re guaranteeing yourself are a good parking space and about an hour of awkward conversation with the host until the right thinking, take-their-time guests start to arrive.
We got there as the picnic was kicking off and the field was already overrun with dozens of two-legged crap factories and their maternal manufacturers.
There were at least a couple of hundred people there, but somehow, Mrs. Bootleg found all three of her “neighbors” during Jalen’s stay. The harpies prattled on about their little bundles of burden, whilst us men folk were forced to make uncomfortably long small talk about the few baby-related questions we could ask and answer with some semblance of sense.
“Is your little one sleeping through the night, yet?”
“How much does your child weigh these days?”
“Hey, he could play linebacker for (insert local pro football team)! He’s a big boy!”
OK, so the last one’s not a question. But, trust me, the kid could be smaller than a stick of salami (approximately the size of Nick Salemi) and you’re still obligated to use the linebacker line.
The ‘big boy’ addendum is optional.
It took me hours to edit out all the Big Bossman jokes. Get at me on AOL or Yahoo IM: ajcameron13
