Pop Culture Nerd – Page 58 – Pop Culture Nerd

Stan Lee: African-American Spider-Man Would be “Confusing”

Photo: Gregg DeGuire/WireImage

Stan Lee has finally spoken out about the Twitter campaign that’s been going on for some time to get Donald Glover, an African-American actor who’s currently on Community, to play Spider-Man in the movie reboot. You can listen to the entire statement here but the major points Lee made were:

“I don’t ever want to make it sound like I’m trying in any way to influence the Marvel people as to who to cast in any roles. That isn’t my job.”
“We’ve already had the Kingpin in ‘Daredevil’ portrayed by a black man [Michael Clarke Duncan], where he was white in the comics, and we’ve had Nick Fury portrayed by a black man [Samuel L. Jackson] where he was white in the comics. But not that many people had seen these characters—not that many moviegoers are familiar with them.”
“Everybody seems to be familiar with Spider-Man, so I say that it isn’t that it’s a racial issue—it’s just that it might be confusing to people. But that’s a matter for the people at Marvel to take into consideration. I certainly don’t want to weigh in on it in any way except to say I think Glover is a fine actor.”

I agree with Mr. Lee that it wouldn’t be a racial issue if Marvel doesn’t want to consider African-American actors for Spidey. It’s more about how we’ve always envisioned him. If the Wonder Woman movie ever gets made, I wouldn’t want a blond actress playing her (well, she’d have to dye her hair or don a wig), not because I’m a blondist but because the image of the brunette WW has been ingrained in me since I was a kid and I don’t want it messed with. I wouldn’t want a waifish actress, either, because WW is curvy and strong. And she’d have to wear the red, white and blue suit; they absolutely cannot put her in some black, sleek leather outfit like they’re considering for Thor. A commenter (who says he’s black) at scifiwire.com said he would find a black Spidey confusing, just as he would if a white man plays Shaft.

My informal poll: Are there certain characters (not just superheroes) whose image is inviolable to you?

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FaithfulGLEE

**Spoilers: Do not read if you haven’t seen Glee finale**

Photo: FOX

New Directions may not have been good enough to win regionals, but they showed a lot of heart, which is the perfect summary for Glee‘s finale. The episode wasn’t great but gets credit for unabashedly wearing its heart on its sleeve.

This may sound obnoxious but I knew our gang wouldn’t win because they’d have no place to go next season. I wish we’d been able to see Aural Intensity’s performance to 1) determine if they indeed deserved runner-up and 2) the Josh Groban/Olivia Newton-John mash-up sounds awesome!

The Journey medley was spirited—those songs bring back a lot of fond memories for me—but Puck should’ve taken lead male vocals because he’s much stronger than Finn. It’s embarrassing every time Rachel comes in and just blows Finn’s breathy voice out of the water.

Vocal Adrenaline’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” was certainly polished but they should call themselves Dancing Adrenaline with Only One Guy Singing. It was not a good representation of group vocals. I didn’t find the intercutting between the number and Quinn giving birth that clever, either; it felt more manipulative. And I’m not sure how adoption works but doesn’t Ms. Corcoran have to go through some kind of lengthy process where she and her home would have to be checked out to make sure they’re fit for a baby? Can she just say, “I’ll take her” and have the hospital hand over Beth like that? Ms. Corcoran could be a secret heroin addict, for all anyone knows. Can someone enlighten me on this subject?

Highlights for me:

Olivia Newton-John playing bitchy and snooty. “Are they a poor person’s school?” she asks, referring to McKinley, and “Brunettes have no place in showbiz” when discussing Rachel. I idolized ONJ as a kid and loved her sweet girl-next-door image so this really amused me.
Josh Groban hitting on Sue! I’ve found Groban hilarious since seeing him in the “I’m F*#cking Ben Affleck” video.
Quinn’s mom saying she kicked Quinn’s dad out of the house because “he was having an affair with a tattooed freak.” Jesse James got slapped!
Mike (Other Asian) and Matt (Shaft) had lines.
“To Sir with Love” was touching, since I didn’t expect to see Santana or Brittany crying. They actually care about glee club! Sue’s crying was most surprising of all but I’m not sure I buy that. It kinda came out of nowhere.
Mr. Schue singing Iz’s version of “Over the Rainbow” to his kids with Puck on accompaniment, ending the show on a lovely note.

Were you satisfied or disappointed? Did you cry? How do you feel about John Stamos coming on next year to play Emma’s dentist boyfriend, Carl?

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Nerd Chat with Author Sophie Littlefield + Giveaway

Last year, I had the pleasure of interviewing Sophie Littlefield when she exploded into the publishing world with her debut novel, A Bad Day for Sorry, featuring her take-no-prisoners heroine, Stella Hardesty, illicit protector of abused women. Since then, Sophie’s been blasting her way through Badass Town, racking up Edgar, Anthony, Macavity and Barry Award nominations faster than you can pump a shotgun, winning the Romantic Times Book Reviews Best First Mystery Award.

Today sees the release of Sorry‘s sequel, A Bad Day for Pretty, and I’m thrilled Sophie has agreed to another chat. Last time, she brought beer and fried chicken for everyone; this year she’s giving away free books! (Details below the interview.)

PCN: How has your life changed since you became a published author last year? Do your kids have rock ‘n’ roll tees with your picture and tour dates on them?

Sophie Littlefield: Oh, PCN, you silly. My kids take pains every day to let me know that to them, I’m still the same old Mom they have always known and loved. They make sure I know I’m welcome to do all the same chores and errands I always did. At 9:45 p.m on a recent school night: “Mom, I need to you to go to CVS and get Wite-Out and those pretzels with the cheesy stuff. I’m kinda waiting for the new South Park to come on so I’ll just stay here.”

I’ve definitely been enjoying getting out and traveling a little more, though I was in Times Square a month ago, trying to hail a cab, when my cell phone rang and it was my son. “Mom? Lacrosse practice ended. Where ARE you?” I suggested he ask his dad, which got me an indignant “But Dad’s working!”

PCN: I suppose you wouldn’t want to respond you were also working on the streets of Times Square.

Sophie (in red) with her publicist Sarah Melnyk (L) and editor Toni Plummer (R)

SL: Ha! No, probably not. There’s been lots of glamour, too. I texted my daughter a snapshot from a dress-up awards banquet and she texted back “wht is goin on w ur boob?”

They’re not really picking up on the whole “Mom’s got a life now” thing, but there have been some sweet moments. Like when my last ARC of PRETTY vanished. I was searching frantically for it when my son said, “Oh I gave it to this girl at school who had a seizure.” I think what I love most about this story is that he doesn’t even know her very well, but his first thought when he found out she had to go to the hospital for tests was “I know just what will cheer her up—a book about a vengeful housewife!” (She’s doing fine, by the way.)

PCN: I love that story! What has surprised you the most about your post-publication life?

SL: In all seriousness, it surprised me how right I was about something you and I talked about last year. Remember how I told you I was getting a lot of, erm, unsolicited advice on how to run my career?

PCN: Uh huh. And I instantly disliked the people giving it.

SL: Well, I stuck to my guns and did what I thought was best, keeping my fingers crossed, and in EVERY instance, going with my intuition turned out to be exactly the right thing to do. I’m not saying I have any answers for anyone else, but for me, trusting myself and my few carefully chosen advisors paid off.

PCN: Hooray! There’s a line in Pretty: “The less a woman has to lose, the quicker you better get out of her way.” At what points in your life have people had to get out of your way the quickest?

SL: For a long long time, no one had to get out of my way at all. I’d come upon them blocking my path…and I’d be all “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll just go around you and try not to make too much noise and can I make you some coffee while I’m here?” even if it meant a detour that cost me time, effort, even pride. I really, really wanted everyone to like me, too, and I allowed their censure or criticism to devastate me.

Then a few things happened. I got sorta middle-aged. Teenagers appeared in my house. A series of reversals required that I earn some actual cash. Suddenly I didn’t have the time or patience to go around making sure everyone was comfortable and happy, that everyone’s feelings were being taken care of, that everyone’s slice of pie was exactly the same fucking size. Oh yeah, deciding my kids were old enough to hear the occasional cuss word might have been a part of it. Uh, that one kind of snowballed.

PCN: Will we ever see a prequel dealing with Stella living with her nightmare husband and leading up to the moment she snapped? I’d like to see how Stella became STELLA.

What happens to household members when they make Sophie mad

SL: Oh, wow! I never thought of that! I would have to wait for a day when I was having a “rage spike,” and just channel it into the story. The only problem is that rather than being a nice “bondage cozy,” it would be more like a Tarantino film, with those scenes where you’re looking around the theater at the other folks wondering if it’s okay that you just laughed or if you’ve just outed yourself as the kind of person who shouldn’t be allowed around children.

PCN: We should go to movies together and laugh at all the wrong stuff! You’ve said Stella is a lot like you. Now that you’re less frustrated with a thriving career, will Stella continue to mellow or will you have to dig deeper for her fury?

SL: It’s kind of funny that everyone—all my pre-pub reviews—seems to agree that Stella is a lot mellower in Book Two. But they also seem to agree that’s a good thing. One reviewer said that dialing back the action somewhat allows the book to focus more on character development.

I’ve been telling my agent that once I’m raking in the big bucks and am missing that adrenaline surge from wondering when they’ll be turning off the lights, I won’t be able to write any more. Gotta stay lean and agile…

PCN: You’re at least staying busy. Besides Stella, you’ve got a YA novel, Banished, coming out in October and Aftertime, a zombie post-apocalyptic story due in March next year, the first in a three-book deal. It’s being published by Luna, Harlequin’s sci-fi/fantasy imprint, so does that mean we’re gonna see some zombie lovin’?

SL: Ahhh, those zombies! Folks either love ‘em or hate ‘em. I have to say that for me, they are merely an interesting way to introduce drama into a character-driven story. (e.g. “I love you Maud,” “I love you, too, Gerald-oh-my-god-what-is-that-thing-taking-a-bite-of-your-leg-aaaaahhhhhh!”) In both my young adult and my Luna series, the zombie plot takes a back seat—a very far back seat—to the human drama.

In Banished, it has to do with growing up feeling isolated and alone, and what happens when you reach the brink of adulthood and you have to step up and face your fears while discovering who you really are.

In the Luna books, the post-apocalyptic world, with all of its challenges—yes, including creatures who want to eat you—is just a dramatic backdrop for a story having to do with loss, grief, and reinvention of the self. And there are some really hot ummm…love scenes, NOT with zombies because everyone knows that zombies don’t have sex (S.G. Browne’s wonderful Breathers notwithstanding).

PCN: I didn’t know that! It would’ve been a great excuse when a friend asked me to play a hooker going oral on a zombie in his movie and I really, really didn’t want to (I’m not joking and no, I didn’t do it). What other genre-busting mash-ups would you like to tackle?

Steve Hockensmith & Sophie. Photo: Jen Forbus

SL: Oh, PCN, have I told you about the collaboration I’m doing with Mr. Zombie Boy (aka Steve Hockensmith)? Steve is convinced that swamp creatures are the new black, and I’ve become laser-focused on Malcolm Gladwell’s economic analysis. We’re doing some awesome things with that, kind of a bayou-legend-meets-Tipping Point story with a lot of heart.

Alternatively, I have this insanely good idea for a book that I plan to start writing on January 1 of next year. I just get so excited thinking about it that I can barely get my trembling fingers to type words. It’s something new and different and it’s either brilliant or leaden and unreadable, I can’t decide which.

PCN: I can’t wait to see how these Frankenstein babies turn out. Now, “sorry” and “pretty” have had their bad days. What adjective is next in Stella’s sights and when is that day happening?

SL: The next two Stella books are scheduled for spring 2011 and 2012. The third one’s turned in and the fourth is “in development.” As for titles…PCN, I have this great source who comes up with brilliant title ideas, but she demands secrecy. So let’s leave the cloak of mystery unmolested, except to say that she is a lady of a certain age who may or may not have ties to the Polish mafia.

PCN: I normally enjoy molesting mystery cloaks but for you, I’ll leave it alone for now. Thanks so much for chatting!

For more about Sophie, visit her website. Click on “blog” from her adult section (not THAT kind of adult) and you’ll be directed to the 79 other sites she writes for. Her tour dates are here.

Now for the giveaway. Sophie has graciously offered to give away one paperback copy of Sorry and one hardcover of Pretty. The first name randomly drawn will get Pretty, the second winner will receive Sorry, both books will be signed. If you haven’t read Sophie yet, better jump on the bandwagon now while there might still be room. Otherwise, you’ll have to walk alongside and get kicked by the donkey pulling the wagon.

Rules:

be e-mail subscriber or Twitter follower (current subscribers/followers automatically get 2 entries; if you tweet about this, you’ll get 3)
leave a comment about a bad day you had that ended up being pretty
have U.S./Canada address

Giveaway ends Monday, June 14, 5 p.m. PST. Winners will be randomly chosen via Random.org and announced here and on Twitter. Winners will have 48 hours to claim the prize before alternate names are chosen.

Let’s get some pretty in here!

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MTV Movie Awards 2010: One Long WTF Moment

The MTV Movie Awards have a category called Best WTF Moment but I thought most of the show could be labeled thusly, minus the “best.” Why did Olympic gold medalist Shaun White present a trophy dressed like Crocodile Dundee? Why was he there at all? Who told Christina Aguilera to place a glowing heart on her vagina?

Cruise as Grossman

Tom Cruise opened the show as the bald, profane Les Grossman character from Tropic Thunder. I didn’t like his performance in the movie and I didn’t like it here. The problem: Cruise doesn’t know how to truly transform himself into a character. When Meryl Streep or Dustin Hoffman takes on a character vastly different from themselves—heck, let’s just take Eddie Murphy in the Nutty Professor movies or Robert Downey Jr. in Thunder. These actors know it’s not enough just to slap on a fat suit, wig or bald cap. They change their voice. Cruise sounds exactly the same no matter what character he plays, making me think, “Oh, that’s just Tom Cruise cussing in a fat suit.” And that gets old real fast.

The highlight was no doubt Sandra Bullock’s appearance to accept the Generation Award, presented to her by Betty White, Bradley Cooper and…Scarlett Johansson? Johansson’s role in the presentation was unclear at first since she had nothing to say, but then she ended up in a quick liplock with Bullock to make up for Bullock and Ryan Reynolds, Johansson’s husband, not winning the Best Kiss award.

But that’s not the highlight, at least not for me. Bullock, looking smashing in a short black dress cut low in back (White told her never to wear it backwards), continues her class act with a humorous speech showing what a good sport she is, retaining her grace and charm amidst the sordidness she was rudely thrown into, finally deflecting attention away from herself to ask for prayers for people being affected by the oil spill in the Gulf. You can see her speech in the video below.

Ken Jeong won for Best WTF Moment in The Hangover and though I’m not a fan (he grossly overacts in everything), he surprised me with a touching tribute to his wife, who has beaten cancer.

Host Aziz Ansari had a few funny moments, though not as many as I would’ve liked. Best bits: his spoof of Precious, complete with headband and chicken stealing, and playing a “swagga coach” named Taavon training an uncool Zach Galifianakis. (Taavon: “I only sit on things that are purple.”)

Winners:

Best Female Performance—Kristen Stewart (New Moon)

Best Breakout Star—Anna Kendrick (Up in the Air)

Best Scared-as-Sh*! Performance—Amanda Seyfried (Jennifer’s Body)

Best Kiss—Stewart and Robert Pattinson (New Moon)

Best WTF Moment—Ken Jeong (The Hangover)

Best Villain—Tom Felton (Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince)

Biggest Badass Star—Rain

Best Male Performance—Robert Pattinson

Best Comedic Performance—Zach Galifianakis (The Hangover)

Best Movie—New Moon

Best Fight—Beyoncé and Ali Larter (Obsessed), though this award wasn’t televised

Did you see the show? What did you think? Favorite moments? Weirdest?

Photos by Picture Group

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How to (Cr)Eat(e) Fried (Book)Worms

A friend of mine recently bemoaned her kids’ resistance to reading despite her repeated attempts at instilling an interest. This conversation made me think about how I first got hooked.

Among my earliest memories are those of my family sitting together in the same room reading: my father with his newspaper, my mother grading essays for her job as a high school literary teacher, my older sister and brother poring over their school textbooks. They all looked so important and smart. I was about 4, not yet in school or literate, insanely jealous that everyone else could read, desperate to join the party.

I’d take blank sheets of paper and draw squiggly lines on them to represent lines of print in a book if you’re looking at it from far away. I’d sit on the couch with my papers and pretend to read my gibberish, even flipping the pages every now and then. My mother laughed when she finally caught on to what I was doing.

Shortly thereafter I started school, learned how to read and there was no turning back. The first books I remember reading were Hergé’s Tintin adventures about the boy reporter and his globetrotting crime solving. Those books opened up my mind, made me want to grow up to be a reporter and travel the world (weirdly enough, I managed to accomplish both; the travel is ongoing). I then moved on to Nancy Drew in third grade, Encyclopedia Brown in fifth and Sherlock Holmes in the summer between sixth and seventh grade.

The pattern here is obvious: I enjoy problem solving. I love having my mind engaged by mysteries, using logical deduction to arrive at the solution, hopefully before the author reveals it. Every time this happens, there’s a sense of satisfaction and confidence that maybe I can resolve most things in my life if armed with information and perseverance. The next time I put together an Ikea storage unit, I WILL figure it out. I solve fictional murders, dammit! I will not be cowed by a Swedish hutch!

But back to my friend and her problem with her non-reading kids. Based on my own experience, I could only suggest she designate reading time in her home every day, starting with maybe 15-20 minutes. That’s what worked for me but of course this was about 100 years before video games, iPods and texting.

So, I thought I’d ask you: What made you want to read? Why do you read what you read? Any other Tintin fans out there?

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My Top 10 Movies That Should Never be Remade

When I read last week about how the long-delayed Logan’s Run remake might move forward yet again, I didn’t really care one way or the other. It was a marginal ’70s movie that I only have dim memories of so I have nothing against someone wanting to try and improve on it (because remakes are ALWAYS improvements on the original, right?).

But then I started thinking about the movies for which I’d march on Washington against their being remade (OK, maybe I’d just boo loudly from my couch) because it’d be all kinds of wrongness. Here are my top 10, in no particular order:

The Godfather. Marlon Brando made talking with cotton balls in his mouth seem intimidating; anyone else would come off ridiculous.
Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I’d put anything with Audrey Hepburn on this list since no one can ever step into her shoes (or black sheath dress, in this case), but since it’s too late for Roman Holiday—the 1987 TV remake with Catherine Oxenberg was atrocious—I’ll go with Tiffany’s. Also, though there are many different versions of “Moon River,” none is more heart-tugging than Hepburn’s in the movie.
The Crying Game. If you already know the bulk, er, twist in the story, what’s the point of doing another version? It’d also be really difficult to find someone else like Jaye Davidson to play Dil so convincingly.
The Matrix. It was mind-blowing when we first saw it. After all the copycats since, bullet time won’t look that impressive again.
His Girl Friday. I can’t think of any actress today who can talk as fast as Rosalind Russell, or tackle a man as effectively while wearing a pencil skirt and high heels.
Love Actually. Many storylines, characters, and actors converged serendipitously to make this perfect movie. Trying to juggle that many balls again with a different cast would be pushing their luck.
Waiting for Guffman. Everyone in that cast is a master at improv. It’s hard to imagine another group of actors who can match that level of comic brilliance.
Raiders of the Lost Ark. There ain’t nuthin’ wrong with it so hands off!
Love Story. You’re probably thinking “whaaaat?” but I have a soft spot for this. It’s one of the first movies I ever saw in a theater (I was 4 or 5) and I cried my little buns off. The leads are so pretty, the story so romantic and tragic. But Ollie or Jen wouldn’t get away with “Love means never having to say you’re sorry” today without audiences laughing at them.
Star Wars. Do I have to explain this one?

What would you hate to see remade?

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Winners of Brett Battles’s SHADOW OF BETRAYAL

Congrats to Jen Forbus and Elizabeth! You’ll each get a paperback copy of Shadow of Betrayal, the third adventure in the Jonathan Quinn series. Hit the contact form above with your addy and I’ll forward to Brett, who will personalize the books for you. (Jen, please specify if you’d like flowers next to your name and Elizabeth, if you’d like sketches of monkeys.)

Thanks to all who entered and shared your dirty stories!

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Book Review: Ann Brashares’s MY NAME IS MEMORY

As I began this review of Ann Brashares’s My Name is Memory (Riverhead, out today), I wondered if I’m way too old to be its target audience. The novel contains the kind of melodramatic language one might find in a young girl’s diary, including mine from another lifetime. Perhaps this isn’t surprising since Brashares is best known for her Young Adult Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series. But since this title is deemed “adult,” I guess it’s fair game for my assessment.

Our hero Daniel has lived many lives, starting around 520 A.D. He has “the memory,” the rare ability to recall events from all his past lives. In most of them, he has loved a girl named Sophia, though she’s had different names through the ages (at a certain point, Daniel decided he would only go by that name no matter what moniker he’s given at each new birth). His main goal in each life is to find Sophia and convince her of their eternal love since her memory is not so good. His attempts have been repeatedly thwarted throughout the centuries, often by a malevolent character named Joaquim, who was once his brother. In that lifetime, Sophia was Joaquim’s wife but ran off with Daniel to escape the brother’s abuse (Daniel and Sophia never consummated their relationship) and Joaquim has wanted revenge ever since. The story jumps through different time periods, with the hope that Daniel and Sophia, named Lucy in present day, will finally get to be together.

The concept is intriguing—I’m a fan of time-travel stories—but the execution is problematic for several reasons. The first is a contradiction of the following declaration:

There are so many things I’ve seen that I could tell you about. But I am telling you a story, a love story, and I will try, with limited digressions, to hold on to my thread.

But digress Brashares does, impeding the urgency and momentum I felt is needed in Daniel’s search. For example, he goes looking for Lucy at the University of Virginia, where she’s a student (the college is never named but it’s definitely UVA from the descriptions), and promptly gets off-track by reminiscing about the time he met Thomas Jefferson in the ’60s when TJ was reincarnated as a black man.

Another problem was my difficulty in discerning the difference between Daniel’s and Lucy’s voices. Chapters alternate between their points of view but the writing style remains mostly the same. I suppose one could argue this means Daniel is in touch with his sensitive side but his voice isn’t convincingly masculine.

The biggest obstacle for me, though, was the overwrought prose about the couple’s love for each other. If you’ve ever been in love or longed for someone, you know exactly how that feels. It doesn’t need to be explained in all the quickening-heartbeat-when-the-other-is-near-and-staring-out-the-window-morosely-when-he/she’s-not details. I want the language to make me swoon, not do all the swooning for me.

To be fair, I think this book would do well among Brashares’s YA fanbase despite its adult categorization. I’ve seen the first Twilight movie (haven’t read any of the books) and Bella and Edward talk the way Daniel and Sophia/Lucy do. While that style is not for me, I can see its attraction for younger readers because once upon a time, when my heart was more innocent, I might’ve fallen for it, too.

Nerd verdict: Spotty Memory

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What Memorial Day Means to Me

My mother and brother on front page of Washington Post’s Metro section upon our arrival. Photo: Douglas Chevalier

Thirty-five years ago on Memorial Day, my family and I stepped off a plane at Dulles Airport in D.C. to begin our new life in the States. We arrived at that point with the help of American military personnel to whom I’d like to pay tribute today, whether or not they’re deceased. Before continuing, I must say this is a personal story, not meant to be political in any way. These are my memories, my experiences, nothing more.

Before we ended up in D.C., my family spent almost a month at Camp Pendleton in Oceanside, CA, waiting for papers and sponsorship. Pendleton was the first refugee center erected in the States to accommodate hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese evacuees after the fall of Saigon. I recently drove down to Pendleton to view the exhibit “Images at War’s End,” depicting refugee life at the camps on base in the spring and summer of ’75.

I looked like this wearing a Marine jacket. Photo: Maj. G.L. Gill

The black and white photos instantly brought tears to my eyes but not for the reasons you might think (more on that later). Master Sergeant Tyrone Ash, who was with me, immediately stepped back and said, “Hey, don’t take it out on me. I wasn’t there!” I looked at him with my “Huh?” face, and only after recalling an earlier incident did I understand his meaning.

On this other occasion, I was talking to someone and mentioned how grateful I was that my family had been airlifted from Saigon, saving us from a slow, torturous journey by boat. My conversation partner was visibly moved and said, “Thank you for saying that.” I said, “Saying what?” She said, “My dad fought in Vietnam and for years I felt guilty that he was part of something destructive to your country. I wasn’t sure if I should be proud or ashamed he was over there. It means a lot that you don’t hate veterans.” After recovering from my astonishment, I said I couldn’t tell her how she should feel about her dad, but I could tell her what servicemen like him meant to me.

My family and I were evacuated from Saigon on a C-141 at the end of April 1975 and, after short stays at Clark Air Base in the Philippines and Andersen AFB in Guam, arrived at Pendleton as part of Operation New Arrivals, the largest humanitarian airlift in history. Having received very little notice, more than 800 Marines and civilians worked 24/7 and within days built tent cities to house about 18,000 of us in that first wave.

We stayed in a crowded barrack, crammed in with several other families. Our bunk beds were so close together I could practically roll onto my neighbor’s bed in the night. But here’s the thing: I don’t remember being miserable. Yes, my father had been separated from us and we hadn’t received news of his status (he’s fine), but Marines took good care of us otherwise.

Marine Corps Photo

They gave us jackets to wear (the spring California air was freezing compared to tropical Vietnamese temps), three squares a day, cleaned our bathrooms, taught us basic English words and showed us kids cartoons—my favorite was the funny, stuttering pig—to introduce us to American culture. I made forts out of blankets, played with other children and ran around freely—no school, no air raids, no curfew.

Marine Corps Photo

One man in particular made an indelible impression on me. He was blond, blue-eyed, uniformed and spoke almost perfect Vietnamese (picked up while he was in country?). Always a picture of calm, he occasionally came into our barrack to give us updates. I was transfixed by how his voice, singsong while speaking our language, didn’t match his Caucasian face. I looked forward to his visits because he made me feel closer to home. I regret not having the grace to properly thank him for that back then.

Photo: LCpl J. LaVigne

I shared some of these stories with the daughter of the veteran I was talking to years earlier, and with MSgt. Ash during my Pendleton re-visit. He was instantly relieved and we ended up having quite a few laughs. (He wasn’t even born in ’75—gah!)

I also explained to MSgt. Ash that my tears were happy ones because the photos confirmed my memories of having moments of joy while living on base, how we weren’t broken, despairing people like some might believe. This was largely due to the kindnesses of Marines and civilian volunteers who gave us sanctuary and prepared us for the adventure ahead. Looking at the images, I was suddenly reminded of WALL*E finding that seedling on a desolate Earth, proof that one world may have been gone but new life was just beginning.

Today I remember and give heartfelt thanks to deceased and living veterans, people who go above and beyond to fight for freedom, especially those who personally had a hand in securing it for me and my family 35 years ago.

How are you observing Memorial Day?

For more info, read this interview with Camp Pendleton historian Faye Jonason and watch the video below showing reactions of refugees and a former Pendleton Marine to the exhibit.

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Movie Review: SEX AND THE CITY 2

This is an escapist, girly movie—no getting around that. I went in not expecting it to remotely resemble my own life and ended up mostly enjoying the fantasy of the foursome’s lives.

It’s two years after the events of the first movie and the ladies have a new set of problems: Carrie is afraid she and Big are turning into a boring old married couple, Miranda isn’t appreciated at work by her sexist boss, Charlotte’s kids are driving her crazy, and Samantha’s going through menopause. Conveniently, a sheikh offers Samantha an all-expenses paid vacation to Abu Dhabi to possibly engage her publicist skills to promote his luxury hotel and of course she wouldn’t go without her girls. While there, the ladies shop, drink, play with fire, get arrested, talk about their issues before coming home with new insight and appreciation for their situations.

The movie’s main attractions for me—no surprise—are the furniture and fashion porn. Big and Carrie live in a “little bit of heaven”—an impeccably decorated New York City apartment with a dream closet—and the women’s outfits are so jaw-droppingly over the top that they sometimes made me laugh. But that’s the way it should be; who wants to see them in Old Navy duds and Keds?

I also ogled the scenery (Morocco subbed for Abu Dhabi) and suddenly got the urge to ride a camel and/or Jeep over sand dunes. I love the friendship the characters have, how they’ll always be each other’s anchors. I enjoyed seeing Raza Jaffrey as Carrie’s butler, Guarau. On MI-5, the actor plays a formidable agent so it was quite a change to see him as the gentle, wise Indian man. And Liza Minnelli channeling Beyoncé! She must’ve gone to the Tina Turner School of Legs Preservation. Go, Liza. SATC2 is lighter in tone than the first one, though some of the jokes are rather crude (one involves camel and toes).

What I didn’t like? Samantha repeatedly flouting Abu Dhabi’s public dress laws by showing too much skin. I don’t agree with how women are forced to wear burkas but if I choose to go there, I would obey the emirate’s laws. Flipping off the men isn’t liberating, it’s disrespectful. Samantha claims hot flashes and hormonal changes as an excuse and Miranda does step in to talk some sense into her, but the scene smacks of arrogance. The ladies’ karaoke rendition of Helen Reddy’s “I am Woman” is also much too literal a declaration of girl power.

SATC2 certainly isn’t perfect but it doesn’t apologize for its fantasy elements, nor should it. It’s a two-and-a-half-hour virtual vacation to an exotic locale, allowing you to bask in the sun and not worry about frying too many brain cells.

Nerd verdict: Frivolous City life

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Lee DeWyze Wins AMERICAN IDOL

Jason, you were right.

Lee DeWyze was crowned the ninth American Idol tonight, with the result coming at the end of a two-hour-plus show that was actually entertaining at times. DeWyze is a decent enough singer and seems like a nice guy, but when Crystal Bowersox so obviously outshines him in every way, I don’t know what to say about his victory.

So, I’ll just recap some of the things I liked about the show. Yes, most of these people are older and their voices are a little thinner, but they sang the music of my youth and made me feel 10 years old again.

The Bee Gees! If you know me at all, you know my soft spot for Bee Gees music. Maurice was missed since I’ll always think of the brothers as a trio but it was cool to have Barry and Robin Gibb come out singing “How Deep is Your Love.” When I was a kid learning English, I’d try to transcribe songs I heard on the radio and this was one of them since it was nice and slow. (I still had a little trouble: “And we’re living in a world of fools, drinking us down…”)
Alanis Morrissette sang with Crystal on “You Oughta Know,” which was kickin’. Alanis was classy enough to hold back vocally so she wouldn’t steal Crystal’s spotlight (I’ve seen Alanis live from the pit—she can blow!) and immediately stepped away when the song was over, giving Crystal the floor. I had to laugh, though, at the cleaned up lyric made safe for prime-time TV. Crystal sang, “Is she perverted like me? Would she go down with you to a theater?” Wait a minute, so every time I accompany someone to a theater, I’m a pervert? Dang, I guess I’ve been perverted my whole life, sometimes for hours in one day with double features.
Hall & Oates singing “You Make My Dreams Come True,” with Daryl Hall in strong voice and John Oates almost unrecognizable without his famous ‘stache. I suppose this is an appropriate song considering the occasion but I wish they’d sung “I Can’t Go for That”—I like that song’s groovy, sexy feel—instead of leaving it to the Idol guys, including 16-year-old Aaron Kelly singing lyrics like “I’d do anything that you want me to…,” which is kinda wrong.
Bret Michaels dueting with Casey James on “Every Rose Has Its Thorn.” Six months ago, I couldn’t have cared less about this performance since I’m no Poison fan. But seeing Michaels come out to sing was pretty amazing, considering he was at death’s door just weeks ago due to a brain hemorrhage. He looked and sounded as if nothing had happened, with him and Casey shredding their guitars with glee and harmonizing as if they’d been doing it for years. I don’t care what anyone says—I think Casey’s a true rocker. Watch video below.
I had mixed feelings about Janet Jackson‘s two-number performance. The first song, “Nothing,” was kinda boring but the eery thing was she sounded exactly like Michael! If you closed your eyes, you would’ve thought MJ was singing. Her voice has never resembled his that much before so I don’t know what was going on. And then she got “Nasty”! Anybody getting nasty on stage is good entertainment.
Oh yeah, I guess I gotta mention all the Simon tributes. Paula looked great but should never do standup—so awkward up there trying to crack jokes. Simon should never try to act, like he did in that one skit with him and Randy waking up together in bed. Enjoyed the satellite toast from Ricky Gervais, always the funniest man in the room. Other than that, I’ll miss Simon but as Paula said, the show will go on. After tonight’s results, though, whether I’ll watch is yet to be decided.

What were your favorite moments? No, it couldn’t have been Lee singing with Chicago. What else? Did anyone vote for Lee? What did you think when Bret Michaels walked out on stage?

Photos: FOX

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Nerd Chat with Thriller Writer Brett Battles + Giveaway

It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these because I’m lazy selective about who I ask for a chat. Potential interviewees must go through rigorous testing to determine if they have the Cool Factor. Today’s guest, author Brett Battles, not only passed, he set a new record for most tacos eaten while trapped in a shark tank. He’s a doer of the right thing, defender of the free world, champion of justice. I’d bet if we search his place, we’d find a Brettmobile in his Brettcave.

When not world-exploring and engaging in derring do, he writes the Jonathan Quinn series about a cleaner employed by a nebulous government faction to dispose of bodies. Besides being twistily plotted and action-packed, the novels take place in exotic locales, captured in vivid details from Brett’s own travels. The third book in the series, Shadow of Betrayal, comes out in paperback tomorrow (May 25) and Brett’s giving away two signed copies.

But first, he parachuted in for a nerd chat.

PCN: Settings for your books include San Francisco, L.A., Saigon, Berlin, D.C., Singapore—all places I’ve spent time in. Why is Quinn stalking me?

BB: Simple. In Quinn’s line of work, it’s all about the preparation. Making bodies disappear is not something you just do on a lark. Knowing as much as possible about an operation is essential to performing flawlessly. That, of course, includes getting a good look at future…eh…projects. (Height, weight, that kind of thing.) Oh, and best of luck on your future travels!

Brett at the Grand Palace in Bangkok

PCN: Um, I think I’ll use the fake passport and gain 60 pounds before my next trip. Both you and Quinn travel a lot. How would he dispose of a body on a plane if he had to? No particular reason why I ask, because I never encounter annoying people on planes.

BB: Well, it’s not like you can just open a door and throw the body out. I think the key would be to make it appear to other passengers (and crew members) that the body is still alive, like he’s just dozing. But make sure his seat belt is on and his chair is all the way up so a flight attendant doesn’t try to wake him. Then it’s a quick trip to the toilet where, despite FAA regulations, you put in a call to one of your team members who then arranges to have someone pretending to be a doctor waiting at the gate. From there it’s just a case of a passenger who’s taken ill and needs assistance getting out. Done and done.

PCN: Brilliant! I’ll make note of that. I sometimes feel like a cleaner because friends often call me to get them out of jai–I mean, pick them up from airports. Are you the cleaner type, the guy who likes to get dirty, or both?

BB: Wow…it all depends on the context in which that question is asked, doesn’t it? Let’s just say I’m whatever I need to be in whatever situation I find myself. (HA! God, if only I was that clever!)

PCN: Your writing process sometimes involves sitting outside taking pictures and/or just letting a video camera capture life as it happens. What’s the juiciest thing you’ve caught on tape that ended up in one of your books?

BB: Well, there was this one time I found myself invited to a barbeque at this politician’s house, so I thought I’d take some photos and video. Who knew that when I opened the study door, I’d find him and– Wait, I forgot. By the terms of our settlement I’m not actually supposed to talk about that. Let’s just say the video function on my camera works very well in low light. I did get a photo of Paris Hilton checking out the self-help/relationship section at Barnes & Noble. True story.

PCN: She can use some self-help all right. You’ve said one of your favorite words is “kit,” because “someone who has a specific kit usually is a pro at what they do.” What’s in your writer’s kit besides giant 2.5-feet Post-Its? And why so big?

He wasn't kidding about giant

BB: I LOVE my giant Post-Its! When I’m working out the plot of a book you could come into my place and see several of them plastered on my walls. My other favorite thing is my dry erase board, also for plotting. I fill it with stuff, take a digital photo of it, transfer the photo to my iPad, then erase the board and start filling it again. My dream is to have a workspace someday where an entire wall is dry erase board. We had that at my old day job and it was AWESOME!

Here’s a partial list of my kit:

Giant Post-Its with multiple color Sharpies

Dry erase board with multiple color pens

Canon digital camera

Canon digital waterproof camera

Cheap HD palm-size video camera

iPad (I can’t believe how much I’m using this already)

iPhone

Laptop

Eyes for observing

Feet to wander around on

PCN: Love it. I already have eyes and feet so that gives me hope. I started reading your books after you got my attention on Twitter with tweets about burritos and grilled cheese sammys, which makes you one shrewd tweeter [he posts pictures, too]. How has social networking affected your relationship with readers?

BB: What social networking has done is not only narrow the gap between authors and readers, it’s pretty much destroyed it, which I am actually in favor of. Just yesterday I was exchanging messages on Facebook with a reader in Romania who listens to audio versions of my books. In the past, readers would have had to rely on sending letters to publishers who would then hold onto them for months before forwarding to the author. Now, my potential audience can reach me directly, and same day. Also, since writing is such a solitary task, social networks like Twitter and Facebook act as a kind of way to stay connected even when all I’m doing is writing in my dinning room. I could have dozens of conversations in a day and never actually speak a word. Wait…not sure that’s a good thing.

PCN: The Deceived [second Quinn novel] won the Barry Award for Best Thriller of 2008. Ever carry the award around to get free beer or cut in line at Disneyland?

BB: Why carry it around when I have a life-size, full-color reproduction tattooed to my chest?

PCN: Wow. I didn’t know you were the guy with the Barry tattoo. You have a standalone coming out next year called No Return. Can you tease us with a storyline? How was writing it different from writing the series?

BB: Let me give it a try:

What happens when you return to your hometown after seventeen years, only to witness the crash of a Naval fighter jet? What happens when the man you tried to save from the crash isn’t the man the newspapers and Navy claimed died? What if they don’t want you talking?

And what if they aren’t the only ones?

Set in the upper Mojave Desert north of Los Angeles, No Return tells the story of television cameraman Wes Stewart and the journey home he should have never taken.

How’s that?

PCN: That’s summer-action-movie-trailer good.

BB: Okay, how is writing a standalone different from a series? Well, the biggest difference is with my series I have characters I come back to time and again. I know their stories. I know how they think. And I know how they will react in given situations. With the standalone, every character is new, as is every relationship and every reaction. I love writing both.

PCN: I like how even though you’re a thriller writer, you attended the Romantic Times Booklovers Convention this year and paraded around in your underwear. What was that about? Part of your campaign for the Mr. Romance Cover Model contest?

BB: No comment. But I should have won! Dammit!

I think he should’ve won, too, just to see what he’d do with a loin cloth and hair extensions. Deep thanks to Brett for subjecting himself to this interview and providing pictures. For more info, visit his website and Murderati, where he contributes a post every other Thursday.

Brett has generously offered to send two copies of Shadow of Betrayal to a couple lucky readers. He’ll also personalize them and his handwriting is supposedly nicer than a girl’s.

Requirements for entering the giveaway:

be a PCN subscriber or Twitter follower (if you tweet about this giveaway, you’ll get 3 entries)
leave a comment about a situation when you had to clean up someone else’s mess
be a U.S. or Canada resident

Giveaway ends Wednesday, June 2, 5 p.m. PST. Winners will be randomly chosen via Random.org and announced here and on Twitter. Winners will have 48 hours to claim the prize before alternate names are chosen.

Good luck!

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