The Reason for the Season

‘Tis the Season. This is a phrase that has been used to introduce what the media is euphemistically referring to as the “holiday season,” because the true name of the holiday in question is no longer considered politically correct. Stores have holiday sales, and people say Happy Holidays as a greeting to each other. Even the phrase “Happy Hanukkah” is more accepted. Congress has been admonished that they cannot express any salutations on official correspondence that refer to the holiday. There is a concerted effort to marginalize the holiday (a term referring to a Holy Day) that is significant to Christians, and this attack is coming from humanists, atheists, agnostics and muslims among others. These assaults are both direct in the loss of the saying “Merry Christmas” and indirect in the abandonment of the holiday traditions because of the commercialization. They use the very symbols of Christmas to argue against Christian observation. The enemies of Christianity’s victory will not come when Christmas is outlawed, but when Christians surrender Christmas.

Many Christians have decried the commercialization of Christmas which seems to be growing more blatant every year. Retailers set out their decorations earlier, sales get bigger and hyped with more enthusiasm as retailers look for the biggest profits, and people are bombarded with opportunities to donate to any number of charities. This year, Black Friday was actually Black Thursday as many retailers opened for business on Thanksgiving Day. Perhaps they do this to try to marginalize another Christian holiday in Thanksgiving.

Jesus was most likely not born on December 25^th. The Bible doesn’t say it and a scientific study of the scripture indicates that it is more likely he was born in September or October, although it is still a matter of discussion and debate. Some claim that the December 25^th date is set to coincide with the pagan ritual of saturnalia, but many Christian scholars hold that Constantine, the first Christian emperor, set the holiday date. To refuse to celebrate a Christian holiday because it may fall during a one-time pagan observance is to say that I should not celebrate my birthday because it also happens to be Adolph Hitler’s.

Santa has been attacked by many Christians as a false god or an idol that represents the commercialism that is distracting people from the true meaning of the holiday, that of celebrating Christ’s birth. Some shun Christmas decorations as a pagan ritual. All these reasons may seem a noble cause to shun the traditions of the season, but all that serves to do is to promote the commercialization, humanization and de-Christianization of Christmas. Santa Claus in his popular jolly form with the bright red suit and white fur trim is the creation of the Coca Cola marketing department and was introduced in the 1950′s. He is the quintessential marketing tool and has been one of the most successful in history. Kids wait up all night on Christmas eve looking for Santa’s reindeer to land on their roofs.

Beyond Coca Cola’s Santa Claus is the actual story of Kris Kringle. The name Kris Kringle actually comes from the German KristKindle, which translates Christ Child. According to Wikipedia, Kris Kringle was promoted as a gift bringer during the reformation to replace the figure of Saint Nicholas, a catholic priest known among other things for leaving coins in the shoes of children. So Santa Claus is not a pagan symbol, nor is he an idol or false god. He is the personification of Christ’s love and based entirely on Christian principles. Christians should continue to welcome Santa into their homes every year. The moral implications of telling children about the reality of Santa and the truth of the spirit of giving and its origins in history are an individual issue.

The tradition of decorating for Christmas is not based in the pagan rituals, although some would compare it to a Yule tree to try to remove any reference to the Christian holiday. Some accounts ascribe the origins of the Christmas tree to a representation of the paradise tree, honoring the tree that provided the apple that Eve gave to Adam. Other origins are associated with more modern interpretations in northern Germany of celebrating around the tree, then burning the tree at the end of the festivities. Granted, festooning one’s house in light bulbs and garland may seem garish and commercial, but it is an opportunity to enjoy and pass on a shared family tradition. This helps draw a family closer together.

The commercialization of Christmas is rampant and not just for commercial reasons. Granted, businesses want to make as much money as they can. The term black Friday is a reference to the fact that many retailers operate at a loss (negative ledger balances are usually written in red ink) for most of the year and their ledgers finally run in the black (positive balance) for the first time the day after Thanksgiving when more people head out to begin their Christmas shopping. Retailers have marketing companies working year-round to help people find gifts to give. Man’s greedy nature has reversed the onus so that more people make wish lists of wants rather than lists of gives. The practice of giving gifts may seem disingenuous to the solemnity of the Holy Day, but it is based in the historical Christmas story. The magi brought the baby Jesus gifts befitting a king; gold for its value, frankincense, an incense symbolizing prayer and myrrh, an oil for anointing. Christians give gifts at the holiday in honor of that spirit of giving.

Opponents of Christianity want nothing more than to strip America of all things Christian. They try to purge our history books of any Christian references from our founding fathers. They try to twist the first amendment—the one right that guarantees our right to our Christian faith—to silence us as separation of church and state. They try to strip our recognition of our savior’s birth by making it a commercial celebration.

When Christmas is no longer a Christian celebration, then it is nothing more than a 2-month long advertisement and sale with no significance other than how much people can buy for how little money. It is imperative that Christians remember not only the origin of the day—Christ’s birth—but also the traditions of the holiday. Put up a tree, put up a Santa, tell your kids the story of Christ’s birth. Once we surrender our claim to the traditions, we surrender our claim to the season. Keep Christ in Christmas, keep Christmas in your heart, and keep the traditions alive. Tell everyone you meet “Merry Christmas” eschew saying Happy Holidays and worry not about political correctness. The first amendment gives every Christian the right to say Merry Christmas. Use it at every opportunity.

Christmas is a Christian holiday; may it always be so.

Get To Work!

What do you do for a living? This has long been a standard icebreaker when starting conversations with new acquaintances and it was usually an easy one. Now more and more people don’t have a satisfactory answer to that otherwise benign question; or at least an answer they feel comfortable admitting. The unemployment rate continues to hover near 10 percent nationwide, even though many employers are hiring. The situation is so grim that a grumble has begun among the people that something must be done, and they are demanding that the Federal government be the one to do something.

This is not a surprising reaction. Whenever something goes wrong, any human is going to expect someone to do something; someone in authority—someone other than us. The sad fact it that there is no single authority that can fix this problem. It is not up to the government to create jobs.

President Obama has been drawing a lot of criticism and blame for the current jobs market. Some of the problem is his fault, but not all. His responsibility in this mess is that he created policies that drove businesses to stop spending, thus cutting jobs. That is a problem he can address by reversing some of his “Big Government” policies and letting the economy heal itself.

But no one should be looking to Washington or Obama to create jobs. It is not the government’s job to create jobs. Job creation has always been and should always be the purview of business. A business owner determines how many people the company needs working for them in order to maximize revenue and maintain productivity. Too few employees depletes morale and hurts productivity, too many employees dilute compensation and benefits and erode profit. The business owner needs to determine the number of employees needed and the compensation levels, not the government.

Similarly, the government is not supposed to create jobs out of thin air. Creating an office in order to create jobs is a waste of taxpayer dollars and hurts the economy rather than helping it, since it is invariably paid for with tax increases to the working class. Infrastructure jobs are only temporary and while that may boost employment figures in the short term, it does nothing to help the economy in the long run.

With his public approval rating the lowest it has ever been, Obama feels the pressure to do something to get the public support back—especially heading into the campaign season. He pulls his old “stimulus plan” off the shelf—the same one that was defeated because it would cost too much of the tax payer—rebrands it a “Jobs Bill” and expects congress to approve it so “America can get back to work.”

This bill was defeated in the senate—again—and now Obama is pointing fingers at senate republicans claiming that they do not want American to have jobs. This is ludicrous. No one wants high unemployment. Conservatives want people to go back to work, but they don’t want the government to pay for it. Much of our current economic mess is because of too much government spending. Throwing more money at it will only make it worse. What sense does it make to try to put out a gasoline fire with more gasoline? The answer is to relax some of the regulations on business that the liberals put in place so that business owners feel comfortable hiring more people. Create an environment that will foster new business development, not more taxes and more regulations that make entrepreneurs think twice about starting a new business venture. Give business room to grow, and more jobs will sprout as a result.

People want jobs. They want to work. But people need to look to business for job, not Uncle Sam. The last thing any sane person should want is the federal government writing their paycheck with money garnered from taxing others’ checks. That is just one more example of socialism. Look for a job that generates a paycheck that is not dependant on other people’s paychecks, but rather on the success of the business in question. Then people can start answering that polite ice breaker “what do you do for a living” with an answer full of pride of self respect.

A is for Apple Butter

There is not much more satisfying in life than apple butter on a warm buttermilk biscuit at the Cracker Barrel. I have always liked apple butter as long as I can remember. As a child, I would have it on toast, on biscuits—heck I would eat it with a spoon. The only thing I would like better than apple butter on a spoon would be cake batter. I have been known to whip up a Betty Crocker cake mix just to sit and eat it out of a bowl. Now, it is never a good idea to eat a whole chocolate cake’s worth of batter. My stomach, at least, cannot endure that much chocolaty goodness at one sitting, so I baked the remainder to eat later. I never needed a chocolate cake to be iced before I eat it. If only someone would put these two great tastes together.

One time, when I was 11 or 12, it was my younger sister’s birthday and mom had baked a devil’s food cake for her birthday. The two 9-inch layers were still cooling in the pans on the stove when mom sent me to do the dishes after lunch. As I unloaded the dishwasher, the cakes sat on the stove whispering at me, tempting me. The surface of both layers formed small peaks like the top of a Dairy Queen ice cream cone. These peaks would interfere with the proper application of icing, so it would only be a help to remove these peaks so my mom could finish preparing the birthday cake. After all, it was just two small pinches of cake. No one would miss them.

I continued to work on the dishes as the cakes continued their siren’s song. One pot put away, one pinch. One glass put away, one pinch. One fork put away, one more pinch. By the time I finished putting away the dishes, I had pinched a crater in one of the layers almost to the bottom of the pan. It was then that I realized that I had eaten almost half of one layer of the cake! I knew I would be in serious trouble unless I could figure out how to hide the damage. This was before the proliferation of packaged icing, so I knew my mom planned on making the icing, so I could not fill the hole with that.

I was almost in a panic as I stared at the hole in the cake. I had to think of something; something that would look like chocolate cake. I opened the refrigerator and examined the contents for anything that would look like chocolate cake when my eyes fell upon the jar of Mott’s apple butter. Apple butter is brown; almost the same shade as chocolate cake batter. I figured I would fill the hole with the butter and no one would know. 11 and 12-year-olds are so brilliant.

Just as soon as I smoothed the apple butter into the hole and put the jar back into the fridge, my mom came into the kitchen madder than a wet hen that I had not yet finished the dishes. I stood in front of the stove and took my butt chewing as my mom explained the error of my ways. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the cake pans and stopped her tirade mid-sentence. I could see the wheels turning as she regarded the cake pans. She knew something wasn’t right as she reached out and touched the wet surface and tasted it. Her eyes grew wide as saucers as the realization of what I did hit. She grabbed the yard stick that hung on the side of the fridge and held it over her head like a samurai warrior. That is the last thing I remember as I scampered with a sore butt up to my room. I don’t even remember eating the cake. I believe my mom spooned the apple butter out of the cake as she repaired the damage.

So, while I did have the foresight to mix the two great tastes, I never got to experience it. Hmm, perhaps I should do some experimenting in the kitchen to see just how well the two flavors mix. Or maybe I should just enjoy apple butter on a hot biscuit as it was intended and enjoy the chocolate cake as dessert. That way, I have two separate satisfying treats. Which reminds me; I had apple butter at Cracker Barrel the other day, so now I need to get some cake mix.

The Human Vacuum Cleaner

“Eat it and beat it, privates. Swallow your food and chew it later. Move it maggots!” These imperatives from my drill sergeant reverberated through the chow hall, causing me and the other assembled Army recruits to stuff our faces as fast as possible and may have contributed to my long habit of eating quickly, usually faster than those with whom I dine. This is not a bragging point, mind you. It is simply a matter of fact. The other day at lunch, though, I had to really re-examine how fast I actually eat.

My mother has long complained that I eat too quickly, but the ironic thing is that, to my memory, she—not my drill sergeant—was the initial instigator of my rapid consumption. She had a rule at suppertime that no one leaves the table until their plate was clean. I would be outside down the street at my friend’s house when my mom would holler for dinner. Children don’t like coming home to eat since it interferes with playtime and kids don’t like stopping to eat. Who needs food? Kids are indestructible anyway. At least they think they are. So it was with a grumble and a groan that I dragged myself to the dinner table. I would sit there staring at the cauliflower or asparagus and quickly feel my stomach rebelling at the idea of welcoming such fare into my body.

When I was 11 or 12, we were living in Newport News Virginia and we had our family meals around the brand new table in our dining room. I wasn’t eating particularly fast at that point, but I do remember that brussel sprouts were on the menu on one particular evening. As a child, I was quite picky about what I would eat and toward the top of my “not-in-a-million-years” menu was Brussel sprouts; right behind asparagus and okra. My mother insists that she didn’t prepare that meal, and she doesn’t remember serving brussel sprouts. We may have had one of my grandmothers visiting at the time and perhaps she served it. Either way, this memory is way too ingrained in my brain to be just a figment.

It sat there, staring at me with its leafy eye, mocking me, daring me to eat it. It knew I despised it, sitting on my plate in the juice from the steam pot like a swollen miniature head of lettuce. Even the smell wrinkled my face into the mask of tragedy. And it was a tragedy as I was forbidden to leave the table until I had consumed that nauseous vegetable. So, I sat. And sat. Minutes seemed like hours as I engaged in a staring contest with a vegetable. It was an epic battle of wills, to be sure, but not so much with my grandmother who imposed my sentence, but more so with the brussel sprout.

Finally, my butt sore from the eternity of sitting at the now-empty table, I stabbed the morsel with my fork, taking out my frustrations with the violent act, and put it in my mouth. I had a plan. I would not eat it, but I would hold it in my mouth until I could spit it out. My grandmother must have surmised my plan because she told me to sit until I swallowed it. Being the willful young man, I refused and I breathed through my nose while holding the sprout against the backs of my teeth with the tip of my tongue so as to avoid having it come into contact with the taste buds. Another eternity passed.

Finally, my grandmother relented and I bolted to my bathroom and spat the offensive vegetable into the toilet bowl with the force of projectile vomiting. I flushed the toilet and watched with satisfaction as the sprout rolled in the swirling water, spiraling down to its final end. An end not in my stomach.

So, when it comes to dinner, I can be a little willful and when my mother said I could not leave the table until my plate was clean, and as long as we were not having asparagus, okra or brussel sprouts, I would become a human vacuum cleaner and suck down whatever was on my plate as quickly as possible so I could get back to whatever activity dinner was interrupting.

As time passed, I was usually the first one finished at any meal, even if I had nothing pending. The playtime of kids gave way to the sullen activity of teenagers and I was no longer in a rush to finish eating. Even so, however, I still consistently finished before anyone else. Once I joined the Army, the ever-present imperative from the drill sergeants drove me to eat even faster. My mother expressed concern on more than one occasion—the latest being two months ago—about how fast I eat. My wife shares her concern and, lately, I have been making an effort to slow down my eating, particularly when eating with other people. It seems that shoveling food into one’s mouth in a manner akin to raking in the winning pot at the poker table is a tad on the rude side.

The other day I was having lunch at Chipotle with two VIPs from the corporate office. I always have the Barbacoa burrito (Shredded beef in a spicy sauce) and my companions had fajita burritos. I was engaging in the conversation just like any other meal when I noticed that both of them were almost done with their meals and I was not even half-way through mine. The woman, who was about a hundred pounds soaking wet, finished first, followed by the man who was taller than me but about the same weight. They politely sat there talking, waiting for me to complete my meal. This has never happened to me. No one since the incident with the brussel sprout has finished a meal faster than I. Perhaps all those years of my mom nagging made a subconscious impression. Or maybe my wife voicing her concerns has changed me. Or…maybe those people were just that hungry.

The Trouble in Praying

There’s trouble, friend. Yes, there’s trouble. I say we got trouble. Right here in Houston. There’s some politician preachin’ in the stadium, and that spells trouble with a capital ‘T’ and that rhymes with ‘P’ and that stands for preaching.

Well, for some people it seems to be trouble anyway. Texas governor Rick Perry has been backing a national day of prayer event called “The Response” for the past several weeks and it has the political left all up in arms. This prayer event is being held in Reliant Stadium near downtown Houston on Saturday, August 6^th. Rick Perry will be in attendance and will speak and I imagine, will pray.

The news has been replete with stories of “activist groups” who oppose the event, oppose Perry’s backing the event and oppose his speaking at it. Some call it an anti-gay event since some of the religious groups sponsoring it are opponents of gay issues.

The most vocal have been the agnostic/atheist groups who claim that Rick Perry’s involvement somehow violates the separation of church and state. This is the claim that gets to me. The supposition seems to be that, once you become a political leader, you cannot express your faith at all. The Response is not a mandatory thing. Rick Perry is not forcing the citizens of Texas to kneel and pray. He is not decreeing that Christianity is the new state religion. He is not saying that people of other beliefs cannot pray in their own fashion.

Governor Perry is simply asking for those who wish to participate to pray for the future of our country.

Rick Perry is Christian. The organizers of The Response are Christians. The event is a call to prayer to Jesus Christ. This is a Christian event. Should political leaders abandon their faith just to satisfy the left? What’s more, Rick Perry is not a minister. He is no preacher, just a man of faith who wishes to freely exercise that faith.

If you choose not to pray, then don’t. But it seems that the anti-Christian movement is actively trying to deny Christians their constitutionally guaranteed right to pray. The leftist agenda has long been trying to water down Christianity by insisting that any public expression of faith MUST include all faiths, which is kind of ironic since it is tantamount to a state-enforced religious structure.

I recommend to every Christian to pray, even if you cannot make it to the stadium. God does not need the stadiums PA system to hear prayers. Pray wherever you are. Our nation desperately needs our prayers, especially at a time when so many are trying to silence them. That’s the real trouble not only here in Houston, but all over the country; trouble with a capital ‘T’.

Fighting For, and In, Red, White and Blue

Another superhero made his big screen debut this weekend in a summer of comic book adaptations and sequels. Xmen: First Class, Thor and Green Lantern have all pulled large audiences to the theaters in 3D and this weekend Captain America joined the ranks. In fact, during the trailers previews for next year’s Batman sequel, The Dark Knight Rises, and The Amazing Spiderman heralded more to come. While I have bemoaned Hollywood’s lack of true originality, these comic adaptations have, for the most part, produced some of the better movies of the season and Captain America: The First Avenger is one of the best of the bunch.

Captain America

Captain America was created in 1940 as propaganda material for the pro-war effort and enjoyed great success during the war. After the war, the comic’s popularity fell and it was cancelled only to be revived in the 60′s. The character bears a costume with a conspicuously patriotic theme but little practical functionality. As such, it doesn’t typically translate from the comic page well. Two failed TV series in the 80′s and 90′s attest to the difficulty in bringing Captain America to life. The costume just looked to cheesy, to comic-bookish for movie audiences to buy into. Other hero films manage to explain or redesign the superhero costume to make it acceptable for the audience such as the battle uniforms for the X-Men, the flight suits for the Fantastic Four or Batman’s armored bodysuit. For Captain America: The First Avenger, Marvel Studios revisions the costume as an adapted Battle Dress Uniform, similar to the fatigues soldiers wear but with the patriotic flair.

The film stars Chris Evans as Steve Rodgers, AKA Captain America, a frustrated, patriotic wanna-be soldier who gets denied from World War II military service because of health reasons. He instead becomes a test subject for a super soldier serum designed to create the perfect human being. After creating the first successful test subject, the scientist (Stanley Tucci) who developed the serum is killed by a German agent of Hydra, a scientific terrorist arm of the Nazi party. Hydra is headed by The Red Skull (Hugo Weaving) who was the first (albeit not entirely successful) test subject of the serum. Rodgers joins the war effort to thwart Hydra’s nefarious plans. The hero’s origin story is only slightly different from the comic book and holds true to the character development set forth in the comic series with some updating. The writers combined several of Captain America’s adventures in this film, including how he came to the modern age from 1943.

The Captain is not Chris Evans’ first spin in superhero tights. He was also cast as Johnny Storm, AKA The Human Torch, in the Fantastic Four movies. In this latest film, Evans’ face is CGI’d onto a skinny little body for the scenes before the procedure. His portrayal of Steve Rodgers is quite different from his Johnny Storm. While Storm was a wise-cracking party animal, Rodgers is a thoughtful, compassionate patriot who cannot abide a bully. This is a critical component of the film’s success; the audience cannot help but emote with Rodgers and root for the allied fight. Tommy Lee Jones, Stanley Tucci and Haley Atwell round out an outstanding cast, all of whom turn in convincing performances. Hugo Weaving’s Red Skull is sufficiently sinister and makes a convincing villain. In fact, of all the adaptations in film and TV over the years, Weaving’s Red Skull is by far the best.

Captain America is arguably the best super hero movie of the year and stands with Iron Man as one of the best ever. It also serves as an introduction to next summer’s The Avengers which will team up Thor, Iron Man, Captain America and Nick Fury and some other super heroes to save the world. This movie is a must see.

When Justice Isn’t Just

The greatest miscarriage of justice since the OJ Simpson case, according to some, has resulted in the acquittal of Casey Anthony on murder charges for the death of her daughter Cayley. In what has been one of the most watched trials since Simpson’s, prosecutors have tried to convince a jury that Casey Anthony, a 25-year-old single mother, was so frustrated with her lot in life that she smothered her child, hid the body and partied for a month before family members started asking questions about Cayley’s whereabouts. Defense attorneys maintained that the baby drowned in the family pool and Casey was so distraught that she followed her father’s recommendations to dispose of the body rather than call the police to report the accident. The media has devoted substantial amounts of airtime to covering the case and the trial; so much so that almost every American has at least heard of the case. After months of testimony in what many experts considered an open-and-shut case with guilty as the inevitable verdict, Casey was acquitted of the murder. America is outraged feeling that justice has failed.

Now, people are pointing fingers at the prosecution for its failure to get a conviction. They blame the jury for failing to render a just verdict and they blame the media for tainting the trial with excessive coverage. They blame everyone except the one responsible. There are only two people who really know what happened to little Cayley: Casey and her father George Anthony and neither one will tell the truth.

George Anthony is a retired police officer. If anyone knows how to ruin an investigation it would be an ex-cop. With the ping-pong like shifting of blame between George and Casey, the lack of any real physical evidence, and the lack of motive, prosecutors were pushing a cart uphill the whole way. Without proof of foul play—the smoking gun as it were—there is no evidence of murder. Certainly Cayley died and certainly her death is extremely suspicious. But there has never been any real evidence—proof beyond a shadow of a doubt—that her death was anything other than accidental.

The prosecution gathered all types of evidence in building their case from forensic reports about how hair follicles look during decomposition to IT forensics as they culled data from Casey’s computer that showed someone—they couldn’t prove who—researched how to make chloroform and other “suspicious” search terms. They interviewed friends, family and complete strangers to try to find some link between Casey and the death. They even interviewed people who shared a cell with Casey during the three times she was incarcerated during the investigation. Every shred of evidence they found, however, was circumstantial. None of it proved anything; at least not beyond a reasonable doubt.

The fact of the matter is that Casey was found “Not Guilty.” This is not the same as being innocent. To be found guilty requires that there be no reasonable doubt about guilt. If a doubt exists, then guilt is not proven. Without the smoking gun, without solid motive and without definitive proof, the only reasonable verdict in this case was not guilty. It may not be just, but it is our justice system.

Reliving the Battles of Childhood

Years ago, my little brother and I would watch afternoon cartoons, and one of his favorites was the Transformers, one of the first toy to TV cartoon franchises to take off.  The giant robots changed into everyday mechanical objects, which was cool (except that the 50-foot Megatron, leader of the Decepticons, somehow managed to change into a hand-held sized pistol).  My brother still has the entire set of the first-run toys.  I was too old to collect the toys, but I did enjoy figuring out how to change them back and forth without breaking them.  A feat that becomes increasingly more difficult the older one gets.

Now, thanks to advancements in computer animation, we can enjoy fully textured photo realistic depictions of these robots on the big screen.  This week, Transformers: Dark of the Moon, the third installment of the series, opened to mixed reviews but still big box office bucks.  The entire series seems to fall flat with the critics who complain that the story is somehow lacking while they applaud the special effects.  The critics obviously don’t get it.

“Transformers” was never about telling a deep or even significantly relevant story.  Many people make movies that draw the viewer in while peeling back the layers of humanity to lay bare they soul of the hero and evoke deep resonance with the viewer.  “Transformers” is not one of those.  It doesn’t even pretend to be.  “Transformers” is about the kid in all of us playing with our toys.

My brother and I—as kids—would develop our own little scenarios for the robots to experience.  We staged their epic battles and we determined who won and who lost.  Watch a couple of boys playing with toys as they swoop the toy jets in by hand and utter the “pow pow” sounds out of the corners of their mouths and then tip the enemy toys over with the other hand.  This is what is going through the minds of most 30-40 year old men who watch “Transformers.”  It’s about reliving a cherished childhood memory.  Watching our imaginations made cinematic on the big screen and now in 3D to boot.

Does “Transformers: Dark of the Moon” tell a good story?  Eh.  It tells a story.  Sure, there are some obvious plot holes and some scenes thrown in to try to tie the abundant action scenes together (with mixed success), but it does follow the formula of protagonist/antagonist and building to a climax with a resolution.  But more to the point, it is fun.

The effects are mind blowing but the best thing about this film is that it is only the second live action film I have seen that actually looks good in 3D.  Avatar is still the standard by which 3D will be measured, and all other live action 3D fails miserably to measure up, but “Transformers” was actually well done in 3D.

Go see the movie.  Go with a man who is approaching middle age and watch a 13-year old appear in his seat once the battles begin.  Don’t be surprised if he makes the transforming sound or even goes “pow pow.”

What’s On the Tube?

Summer brings great opportunities for family togetherness from vacations to the beach, or trips to foreign lands or even just relaxing around the house gardening and doing crafts. Many people take this opportunity to break out of the hum-drum routine that defines the rest of the year by going to the theater, concerts or movie house to catch one of the summer blockbusters. The reason for all this activity is simple: There’s nothing good on TV.

For decades, the networks have released new episodes of existing shows and premiered new original programming in the fall; typically around the end of August to mid September. The shows would continue to air new episodes every week until Spring; usually around May. Oh, they would air a rerun or two during the holidays if the competition with another network was too great, but in that time—20-25 weeks—there were new episodes most weeks. In fact, in the 60′s, some shows were one two or three times a week.

A prime time television series ran approximately 16 episodes in a season over that 20-25 week fall/winter span. The time slot remained assigned to that show over the summer, but the series reran the episodes from that prior season for those who missed them and of course, to make more money from commercial breaks to offset the cost of production and licensing.

Today, things have changed. It seems there is no season anymore. Shows air episodes whenever the network chooses, and that appears—for the most part—quite random. Some networks run shows on different nights of the week—even airing two separate new episodes the same week. Some shows will just skip a couple of weeks and the network will air other shows instead; not always new shows either. It is getting to the point where a person can no longer plan on regular viewing of their favorite show.

Some shows are filming fewer episodes as well, as few as 13 episodes in a season instead of 16. “Game of Thrones,” a new series on HBO, only aired 9 episodes in its premiere season and announced that the next season won’t air for another year. “True Blood” made fans wait for more than a year for the season premiere of its fourth season.

Networks have long had to balance the cost of producing shows against the revenues generated from selling commercial airtime. For each hour-long show that airs, only 40-42 minutes is actually allocated for the show; the rest of the time is for commercials. The production costs can get quite cumbersome, with some shows costing hundreds of thousands of dollars per episode once actors and writers and producers and directors and crew salaries are factored in with effects, set design and construction and special effects costs. Networks, looking to maximize profits, are looking for cheaper shows to air. This is where ‘Reality TV’ came into being. Shows like “Survivor”, “American Idol,” and too many others to list here fill the program guide. No name-brand actors, no scripts, no special effects means cheaper production and, if the show is popular, they can get just as much ad revenue. This means more profit and that is the defining factor in network executive’s heads.

The cable networks are in a slightly better position than the broadcast networks in that since the premium networks are subscription based, they know how much money is coming in ahead of time and can budget for it. This is why shows like “Game of Thrones” and “Pillars of the Earth” are so well done with cinematic production values. That coupled with the fact that there is no FCC censorship issues that networks contend with allows the cable channels to offer more titillating fare with sexual themes and nudity to draw in viewers that may otherwise not watch.

But here again, the cable networks do not subscribe to a season model. They debut a show whenever they want to, and end it the same way; even if it is only a 9 episode “season” like “Game of Thrones”. NBCUniversal, which owns the SYFY network, has been adopting the “half-season” model. Airing only 6-8 episodes at a time then taking a 3-6 month hiatus before debuting new episodes. This tactic seems particularly stupid because, in those 3-6 months, viewer loyalty wanes. The fan favorites “Heroes” and “V” fell victim to this programming dilemma.

Unfortunately, with the increase of reality programming like “Wipeout”, “The Voice”, “Amazing Race,” etc. and the decrease in scripted original shows such as “Law & Order” or “Smallville,” the complete lack of originality in the few shows that are produced like “The Vampire Diaries,” it is getting more common to hear people lament about what’s on the TV. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe we all need to get out more and spend more time with our families, take in a play or go to the symphony. That way, people can look forward to saying “there’s nothing good on TV.”

That’s Funny Right There…

It is not often that a movie sequel shifts focus and puts a supporting character as the protagonist, but that is what Disney and Pixar did with Cars2, opening in theaters this weekend. The dashing race car Lightning McQueen, voiced by Owen Wilson, who won the Piston Cup and learned about relying on friends in the first Cars rides shotgun to his bumbling friend Tow Mater, voiced by Larry the Cable Guy in the sequel. The film takes the group from Radiator Springs and has them jet-setting around the globe racing in a grand prix and saving world from an evil villain bent on world domination. The film is a side-splitting hoot from start to finish and had laughs for all ages, but it has a dark underbelly. There is more violence and some scenes may be a bit strong for younger viewers.

Mater steps up to the center stage as he inadvertently gets his best friend, McQueen involved in a world-wide race. McQueen takes his pit crew from Radiator Springs—including Mater—along with him. Unbeknownst to them, Master spy Finn McMissile, voice by Michael Caine, has been hot on the trail of an international oil villain and mistakes Mater for an American spy sent to help. Hilarity ensues.

The movie is a mastery of CGI, demonstrating again that Pixar is at the top of the technology. This film is released in 3D, which I did not see, but from the camera angles and the digital mastering, I can imagine it was pretty effectual. I have long maintained that CGI is the only way to truly enjoy 3D. The color depth and textures add a photorealism to what is clearly a cartoon. The detail of the mechanics of how these cars work is still impressive.

It is also long. At 113 minutes, it is just under two hours, which for a cartoon is epic. Green Lantern wasn’t this long (though it should have been). The good news is that it doesn’t drag. The pacing and the action keep attention glued to the screen.

The only problem is that with the spy story comes more violence than one might expect from a Disney/Pixar film. There are guns shooting, missiles firing and explosions galore. Some of the characters meet fiery ends. The kids in the theater we were in didn’t seem to mind, but parents will need to consider this and make their own decisions.

Overall, I loved it. I thought it was funnier than the first, had just as keen of a message and introduced new characters without sacrificing the ones we’ve come to know from the first. This is a must-see for Pixar fans and anyone who loved the first Cars. And anyone who loves Larry the Cable Guy. I don’t care who you are, that’s funny right there.