The 413, Blowing Up My Phone

I don't have reason to get a lot of calls from area code 413 (Western Massachusetts), though I suspect I'll get one in the next few days.

So Saturday afternoon I was lounging around, eating salmon for lunch and got a phone call from The 413. I picked it up and it wasn't who I thought it was. It was someone who wants to meet me for a job interview Monday -- one that is not located in The 413.

Less than 15 minutes later, I was still eating my salmon (it wouldn't have taken 15 minutes to eat but as stated earlier I found myself on the phone) and my phone rings again. Again it's from The 413. Again it's not The 413 call I might suspect. And again, it's another person wanting to meet me for a job interview Monday -- one that, again, is not located in The 413.

I'm dying to see what happens the next time my phone rings, especially if my caller ID shows that it's a phone number from The 413. Who knows who it'll be?

My Dream Job

After years of soul-searching, Friday night it dawned on me what my dream job is -- celebrity panelist on $100,000 Pyramid. 

It's a great gig. You work 30 minutes a day. You help ordinary people win lots of money. It's intellectually challenging.

I think I'd be pretty good at it too. For example, I was watching this Winner's Circle clip on YouTube, and the top-box category was "Things that are Enshrined," and the woman's having a tough time coming up with a clue, and I'm shouting at my laptop "A Hall of Fame quarterback! A HALL OF FAME QUARTERBACK!!!" And lo and behold, seconds later she says "A Hall of Fame" something-or-other and walks away with $100,000.

Clearly there are some barriers between me and my dream job. For one, Pyramid hasn't been on the air in years. Also, I'm not a celebrity. I'm as ordinary as it gets. (But hey if they're paying me I don't need to be a celebrity.) But if you're reading this, Hollywood show execs, I think this is a great idea. Particularly for me. And I think I can help others.

Are You There, Chelsea?

I enjoy Chelsea Handler. Her humor is sometimes cringe-worthy but she throws it out there without blinking, and oftentimes the cringe factor is what makes a joke.

So I was curious to see what would happen when her essay collection was turned into a sitcom with a slightly altered title -- Are You There, Chelsea? The show airs on NBC on Wednesdays at 8:30.

Normally I gravitate toward American Idol on Wednesday night, but I'm still reeling from Rhode Islander Erika Van Pelt getting voted off last week, so I figured it was as good a night as any to flip over to NBC and see if Chelsea was worth a look.

It's a decent setup -- a fictionalized version of Chelsea Handler out and about in her pre-fame world. In the episode I watched Wednesday, Chelsea tries to throw a surprise party for her sister Sloane, and a comedy of errors ensured involving over-drinking, waxing gone wild and male strippers.

Unfortunately, the payoff isn't there. Granted, I'm basing my thoughts on the strength of one episode, but I have to say I feel the show swings and misses.

There are some of the usual problem issues -- going to the well with the drinking/one-night-stand jokes one too many times, predictable plot twists, cardboard cutout characters. But these are issues in every sitcom and, with better writing, they can be ironed out.

The biggest problem I have is the execution of the casting. Chelsea Handler stars in her own sitcom. But she doesn't play Chelsea Handler. She throws on a redhead wig and plays Sloane, Chelsea's sister. The "real" Chelsea is played by Laura Prepon of That '70s Show fame.

Simply put, it's a bad idea.

Chelsea-as-Sloane doesn't work, because Sloane is supposed to be the straight-laced, uber-Christian sister with a husband and kid. Yet she can't avoid lapsing into the real Chelsea, swapping Chelsea Handler-esque insults and one-liners that seem straight out of a Chelsea Handler comedy routine, not the goody-two-shoes mouth of Sloane. Prepon, meanwhile, is supposed to be the alcoholic, sharp-tongued Chelsea Handler. But too often she defers to Chelsea/Sloane and acts like a timid, girly little sister. The result is that neither character is well defined enough to be what they're supposed to be and they end up as unrecognizable blurs.

Even if they could pull it off, it's a distraction to watch Chelsea Handler in a show where Chelsea Handler is a character, but the Chelsea Handler character isn't played by Chelsea Handler. (Confused? My point exactly.)

On the plus side, there are some decent supporting characters: most notably Lauren Lapkus, who you may recognize as the girl on the left in the Joe Pesci Snickers commercial, as Chelsea's naive roommate Dee Dee. I like Chelsea Handler and for that reason, I don't want to see this show fail (it's already been bludgeoned by TV critics). My advice: get rid of Sloane, kill her off or just write her out of the script. It'd free Chelsea Handler (the writer/executive producer) to work on developing herself into a better sitcom character.

Are you listening, Chelsea?

       

Drivers' License

I had to be in the Pittsfield area Tuesday, and at the gas station in Leominster I realized I left my drivers' license at home.

So I had to decide: take 10 minutes and go back home and get my license, risking that I would be late on the two-hour drive to Pittsfield, or continue the drive onto Pittsfield, risking that I'd get pulled over without my license.

This decision overwhelmed me. Sometimes I sweat the small stuff. I get paralyzed by these decisions.

I got a hold of myself and said: "Stop. Figure out what you want to do and be decisive."

I went back home, picked up my license and headed back. It added 10 minutes to my trip, but I reassured myself that I always give myself plenty of time when I take longer trips.

I still got to Pittsfield with time to spare.   

Movie Serial Killer Convention

A few weeks back there was the annual AWP convention, where writers schmooze and exchange ideas. I would love to make a similar convention of movie serial killers happen.

It'd be a great opportunity for the top names in the genre to exchage ideas. Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers could cohost a seminar of whether it's easier to kill some clueless movie extras via hot poker iron or strangulation.

Freddy Krueger could lecture on how to become immortal so you can generate more income by appearin in sequels.

It'd be great to see a panel with those three and Chucky, and the Leprechaun dude. I can only imagine the audience questions.

I'm totally up for it for 2013. How do we make this happen?

Pillow Dialing

Last night I slept on my cellphone.

I should clarify -- I slept with my head rested against a pillow. But this morning I woke up and couldn't find my cellphone and when I flung the pillow across the room in disgust there was my phone.

It wasn't an uncomfortable sleep. I actually feel well rested.

However, if I pillow-dialed anyone from 1:30 a.m. to 9 a.m., I apologize. It was an accident.

The Tao of Phil

I was in a situation that required me to write a thank-you note. Recently at the unemployment office I picked up a guide to thank-you notes.

And Wednesday, I misplaced it. I just had it a day ago.

I tore my house apart.

I get frustrated when these things happen, and it makes me not a nice person to be around. I start to get angry at people who I barely know, or people I know well. I start to get pissed about things I have no control over ("Why does TV suck on Tuesday nights?" "Why can't the Bruins play more consistent hockey?"). 

Finally, I got a hold of myself.

"Phil, this is stupid. You don't need a template to write a thank-you note. You know how to do this."

So I sat down and started to wing it. And within seconds, I found the guide, sitting in a folder I made for myself.

It's the Tao of Phil.