MTV, how could you let us down, again? I understand the trend to create “original” programming. I understand that a raw stage and raw production are in-vogue these days. But the VMAs came across totally half-assed. It was as if the job of directing the annual awards show was handed off to a recent high school grad, who was a “visionary” according to his peers. Not only did the host’s jokes fall flat, but the entire show fell short of entertainment. Like a horrendous car accident, you want to look away, but still thousands of people rubber neck, leering at the tragedy unfolding.
MTV decided to have a brand new theme for their Video Music Awards this year. They featured the biggest losers they could find, and shunned true talent. Brittany Spears opened the show, recovering from a year long downward spiral. A coveted responsibility like opening the only music video awards show was given to someone who couldn’t care less. An appropriate title would have been the half-ass awards, hosted by the biggest loser of them all, Russell Brand.
The cracked out Jack Sparrow paraded around the stage spewing rubbish about Americans and their choices. This is a man who dressed up like Osama the day following the 9/11 attacks. A man who boasts about his drug addictions. A man, if you could call him that, with little education, and little comedic talent. Of course everyone should be allowed their opinions, but consider the venue, and the fact that a very impressionable audience was tuned in. His oration on our president of eight years, and frequent degradation of promise rings, and a moral group of teenagers lacked any comedic value. (Props to Jordan Sparks for standing up for the morally conscious.) Furthermore, what experiences has he had that could possibly warrant the opinion? Visiting the U.S. to smoke some crack doesn’t make you an expert on American culture, nor does it qualify him to comment on our politics.
Not only did MTV fail to creatively choose a host with charisma, they failed to produce entertaining musical acts during the show. Rather, they chose to feature real talent during the commercial breaks. We got only a snipet of talent like LL Cool J, and Lupe Fiasco. Sure Rihanna had her moments, but I certainly wasn’t enthused to see child stars Jonas Brother strumming their banjos on Sesame Street. I almost don’t want to mention Lil Wannabee, I mean Wayne. Seeing a rapper’s boxers are nothing new, and neither was not being able to understand him. I will point out that he was not worthy of Phelps introduction. Being one of the most decorated Olympiads should get you more then Lil’ Wayne. But more on that later. Paramore performed well, however I could have done without Brand’s “foreshadowing” their entrance. It became all too predictable when he stumbled over his line “nothing is as it seems” one too many times. Pink also gave an entertaining performance with slightly more originality then the Sesame Street Brothers. T.I. might have been to most fun to watch of the evening. It’s hard to say anything bad about a man that looks that good. Too bad he had to share his spotlight with Rihanna’s second performance of the night.
To conclude an evening of absolute BS, they allowed Kobe to announce the video of the year. Perhaps if Phelps wore his bling to the show they would have allowed him to have the honors. Instead, MTV felt it best to let Kobe and his one . . . medal to announce the winner. Perhaps it was fitting after all since the award went to Brittany Spears. Hmmm . . . how much did she pay for that? I get it, she’s putting herself back together, she should be rewarded. Give her a cookie!
It’s clear that the 2008 MTV VMAs accomplished one thing. They proved that it doesn’t matter how much of a loser slacker you are, you can still shine like a star while torturing millions of Americans who tuned in.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Monday, September 8, 2008
Pneumonia
Three days into my new routine and I still loved the fresh morning air. It was an opportunity to enjoy the quietness and solitude dawn has to offer. This feeling motivated me throughout the morning. Then afternoon hit, and lethargy grabbed hold of my body. Unlike the days previous I could barely keep my head up. My throat was sore and it was hard to breath. A pounding headache was the ruthless symptom that sent me home. Fortunately my husband was available to drive me home. Suffering through a long train ride with the possibility of infants crying, and loud cell talkers did not seem appealing.
At home I found my bed quickly and curled up with some TLC. No, not from Joe, the television network. I’m not a napper so curling up in bed is usually the closest I come to rest. When dinner time came around I ventured out to get some wanton soup; a home remedy that my mom has given to me since I can remember. She used to add a little ginger powder and told me that the combination of scallions and ginger would help me heal quicker. I trust this method, it’s been proven to kick the nastiest cold, and clear up even the severe allergy symptoms. After slurping down dinner, I journeyed back to my bed. Climbing the stairs to the second floor was becoming more of a challenge. I judge myself to be physically fit. I run a few times a week, sometimes up to 5 miles. And I’m no stranger to weight training equipment. Trouble with a few stairs meant something more debilitating was brewing.
The morning was not well received since sleep had been disrupted by frequent coughing fits. My husband gently woke me enough so that I was attentive. It was the morning of his CPA exam, and I could tell he was nervous. I assured him I would be just fine as long as I stayed in bed. No work for me, at least not until later in the afternoon. The next few hours I just slept. In late August one does not need much more then a sheet to be comfortable sleeping. I, on the other hand, was buried under the sheet, a blanket, and a down comforter. I may have been sweating profusely but I couldn’t get rid of the chill that had settled over me.
Joe stormed home just before noon, he was convinced he failed this part of the CPA. I was in no shape to console him, but I tried. Rather then provide comfort and reassurance, I worried him more. Speaking was difficult to manage through all of my coughing, and apparently I wasn’t making much sense. Too weak to wander downstairs, Joe cooked up oatmeal for lunch for me. After eating only half, I was ready for my second nap. I had set an alarm so that I would be up in time for a conference call at 3:00 p.m. Perhaps I was delusional, but I thought I was well enough to participate, and I could not be persuaded otherwise. My worried husband did persuade me to go to the doctor at the conclusion of the meeting.
Throughout the meeting I left my phone on mute, not wanting to distract people. Joe found me a few minutes after the meeting sleeping. My fever had risen, and I had exhausted the energy well. After waking me, we shuffled out to the car, and took a quick ride to the walk-in clinic. We have been in our town for a little over a year, and I have yet to find a general practice doctor. Going to a walk-in isn’t unusual for me. In fact, I think they have a better grasp on what sicknesses are going around. We must have timed it just right, I sat for about 5 minutes before being taken into a patient room.
I knew the routine. Nurse comes in, does the normal checks; temperature, blood pressure, medical history. Then you just wait. When the doctor came in, I explained my symptoms, and that I’m not stranger to bronchitis. In fact, about every two years, I get bronchitis, trache-itis, or some other breathing related illness. Having a history of asthma came as no surprise to the doctor. Although we did not confirm it with an X-ray, the doctor was sure I had pneumonia. Which meant one thing to me, NO RUNNING. I had just started to get serious about it again. Joe was more concerned that I get better, and the thought they way miss our first year anniversary trip to Newport was a distant concern.
The doctor explained that if I didn’t feel better in two days, she would prefer I come back for the x-ray. The treatment was the same regardless of x-ray results. Then it finally dawned on me. What if I wasn’t better by the weekend. I had made so many plans for our trip to Newport, and I was really looking forward to it. It was the big celebration of our first year of marriage. Nope, that was not an option. I would be fine to go. I would take it real slow for the next 24 hours, and I would feel fabulous by Saturday.
By Saturday, I had enough energy to pack my clothes, and sit in a car. I persuaded Joe that the meager amount of energy I was prepared to expend would be all I needed to get me there. I took frequent breaks to sit, and just breath. Each time concerning Joe even more. We dropped the dog off at his parents, and I was able to put on a good show at their house. I stood longer then 5 minutes. I didn’t sway as if I may pass out. And I was even conversational. After all that activity I needed a good 20 minutes for my energy to be replenished.
We made it to the hotel around 4:00 p.m. that evening. After our 3 hour drive, I had all the energy needed to get unpacked, dressed, and head to dinner. Finally, I felt as though I might be shaking the fever, and the cough. I was comfortable at normal temperatures, and I even sat through dinner in a busy restaurant. Things were starting to look up.
At home I found my bed quickly and curled up with some TLC. No, not from Joe, the television network. I’m not a napper so curling up in bed is usually the closest I come to rest. When dinner time came around I ventured out to get some wanton soup; a home remedy that my mom has given to me since I can remember. She used to add a little ginger powder and told me that the combination of scallions and ginger would help me heal quicker. I trust this method, it’s been proven to kick the nastiest cold, and clear up even the severe allergy symptoms. After slurping down dinner, I journeyed back to my bed. Climbing the stairs to the second floor was becoming more of a challenge. I judge myself to be physically fit. I run a few times a week, sometimes up to 5 miles. And I’m no stranger to weight training equipment. Trouble with a few stairs meant something more debilitating was brewing.
The morning was not well received since sleep had been disrupted by frequent coughing fits. My husband gently woke me enough so that I was attentive. It was the morning of his CPA exam, and I could tell he was nervous. I assured him I would be just fine as long as I stayed in bed. No work for me, at least not until later in the afternoon. The next few hours I just slept. In late August one does not need much more then a sheet to be comfortable sleeping. I, on the other hand, was buried under the sheet, a blanket, and a down comforter. I may have been sweating profusely but I couldn’t get rid of the chill that had settled over me.
Joe stormed home just before noon, he was convinced he failed this part of the CPA. I was in no shape to console him, but I tried. Rather then provide comfort and reassurance, I worried him more. Speaking was difficult to manage through all of my coughing, and apparently I wasn’t making much sense. Too weak to wander downstairs, Joe cooked up oatmeal for lunch for me. After eating only half, I was ready for my second nap. I had set an alarm so that I would be up in time for a conference call at 3:00 p.m. Perhaps I was delusional, but I thought I was well enough to participate, and I could not be persuaded otherwise. My worried husband did persuade me to go to the doctor at the conclusion of the meeting.
Throughout the meeting I left my phone on mute, not wanting to distract people. Joe found me a few minutes after the meeting sleeping. My fever had risen, and I had exhausted the energy well. After waking me, we shuffled out to the car, and took a quick ride to the walk-in clinic. We have been in our town for a little over a year, and I have yet to find a general practice doctor. Going to a walk-in isn’t unusual for me. In fact, I think they have a better grasp on what sicknesses are going around. We must have timed it just right, I sat for about 5 minutes before being taken into a patient room.
I knew the routine. Nurse comes in, does the normal checks; temperature, blood pressure, medical history. Then you just wait. When the doctor came in, I explained my symptoms, and that I’m not stranger to bronchitis. In fact, about every two years, I get bronchitis, trache-itis, or some other breathing related illness. Having a history of asthma came as no surprise to the doctor. Although we did not confirm it with an X-ray, the doctor was sure I had pneumonia. Which meant one thing to me, NO RUNNING. I had just started to get serious about it again. Joe was more concerned that I get better, and the thought they way miss our first year anniversary trip to Newport was a distant concern.
The doctor explained that if I didn’t feel better in two days, she would prefer I come back for the x-ray. The treatment was the same regardless of x-ray results. Then it finally dawned on me. What if I wasn’t better by the weekend. I had made so many plans for our trip to Newport, and I was really looking forward to it. It was the big celebration of our first year of marriage. Nope, that was not an option. I would be fine to go. I would take it real slow for the next 24 hours, and I would feel fabulous by Saturday.
By Saturday, I had enough energy to pack my clothes, and sit in a car. I persuaded Joe that the meager amount of energy I was prepared to expend would be all I needed to get me there. I took frequent breaks to sit, and just breath. Each time concerning Joe even more. We dropped the dog off at his parents, and I was able to put on a good show at their house. I stood longer then 5 minutes. I didn’t sway as if I may pass out. And I was even conversational. After all that activity I needed a good 20 minutes for my energy to be replenished.
We made it to the hotel around 4:00 p.m. that evening. After our 3 hour drive, I had all the energy needed to get unpacked, dressed, and head to dinner. Finally, I felt as though I might be shaking the fever, and the cough. I was comfortable at normal temperatures, and I even sat through dinner in a busy restaurant. Things were starting to look up.
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