They’re back, kind of. I traveled to Las Vegas on the long-anticipated yet largely unplanned occasion of my 40th birthday, searching amidst the unruly masses for any remaining shreds of a bygone era. Clearly such appealing elements weren’t to be found in a typical tourist’s wardrobe, as sadly enough no one dresses anymore. In fact it’s perplexing and question-inducing when someone like yours truly actually does! But this is beside the point. (And not unique to Vegas, I know.)
“Back” to what I was saying: I found them. In case you’re looking for them too, they’re at Rio. Boldly, stylishly and in true rambunctious form, as sure as you’ll cash out too late, The Rat Pack Is Back! I imagined a Dean Martin Las Vegas dinner roast for my 40th, and thankfully I got as close as I could get. Suffice to say, this “classic” performance did not disappoint.
The sight of an impeccably restored and beautifully detailed– not to mention blindingly buffed– 1981 380 SLC proves more than enough to put a halt in the step of any true classic Mercedes-Benz aficionado. So it is for yours truly, as I clearly halt in good company– with a well-deserved nod to the responsible party.
The 1981 Mercedes-Benz 380 SLC: A stunning one-year rarity.
What was I just recently saying? Well, in the past few weeks since this further update, the visual confirmation has been steadily reconfirming itself. One example: The ELR commercial that played countless times during the Olympics– a well-cast and even better-scripted spot which I very much appreciate, by the way.
Wider, flatter, wreathless. (Photo: AP)
So be it. Cadillac has made its decision. The insignia’s wreath is dead and will soon be gone– via a slow fade into history like so much else of the original emblem. And who knows, this newest look might just grow on me yet– and that’s really a maybe. Meanwhile, I still miss those long-lost ducks.
J.R. is still dead, and– unlike his brother– unfortunately always will be. The latest story arcs are just now beginning to bloom. We the audience are thus braced for what you might call more of the same, within an epic franchise that never will be quite the same, after all. Season three of the new “Dallas” is off and running.
By “more” I’m referring to yet another dose of convoluted yet shallow plots involving attractive though dim villains, complete with a brand-new one this time around to add to the long list. By “never” I raise the question most loyal fans are surely asking: Just how long will the revived series carry on without Larry Hagman?
The “Dallas” cast in 2014, sans the most famous of them all.
I said it already at the end of season two. It’s time– or least it was then following the death of Hagman, the burial of J.R., and the ultimate explanation of his demise– to say goodbye for good. However, TNT did indeed bring the show back for a third season. So of course I’m watching, thinking: “Alright. Once more, try me.”
It’s always a pleasure to see Patrick Duffy and Linda Gray in their 36-year-old characters. And with rumors of the latest in a string of classic comebacks, I’ll be ready! Still, without J.R. “Dallas” is not the same and never will be, despite the continued references to him and any unused footage we’ve yet to see.
Meanwhile, at least the new opening credits deserve honorable mention, nostalgic element they do of course convey. Otherwise I’m continuing to feel a degree of exhaustion, sort of like a party that’s gone on too long. But then, I may be surprised yet! As the Ewing’s biggest yet most realistic fan, I’d sure like to be.
Past Meets Present: The 2 Series is here. (Photo: autoevolution.com)
The 2002 has returned, sort of. At least we can say a presumed successor, long-in-coming no less. The fact BMW is offering up the all-new 2 Series speaks to the past as well as the present, no doubt pleasing to all us Bavarian motor historians. Then on the other hand, it’s another similarly styled model yet, hereby completing the debatably long and crowded sequence from 1 to 7, while replacing numero uno here in the U.S. In this regard, is 2 too many? It certainly is hard to tell most BMWs apart these days, after all.
Three in a row, is it? True enough, this marks the third consecutive year of Super Bowl commercials that’s leaving me, on the whole anyway, unimpressed. Not since 2011 have I been altogether razzle-dazzled by a steady stream of spirited spots. Oh sure, it’s great to see Arnold Schwarzenegger having fun in a long wig, as well as brief glimpses of Erik Estrada and Mary Lou Retton when the ’80s come calling, while Hyundai’s steadily improving body styling definitely deserves another check mark, somewhere. Still, I’m fairly certain I’ll remember little if any of this annual coveted-yet-costly ad time in a day or two. As such, my top three favorite 2014 Super Bowl Commercials are as follows, for my own reference as well as yours:
Wouldn’t you know it– my three “winners” are all car-related, again! While there will be scads of recaps, analyses and opinions flowing hither and yon in the coming days, for the final score alone I’d think there’s much more to say about this year’s one-sided game itself. Then of course there’s Joe Namath’s absolutely fabulous fur coat to save the evening– now that’s impressive!
Joe Namath throws Super Bowl XLVIII’s coin toss in style! (Photo Courtesy: Kevin Mazur/WireImage)
Large cooked scallops tend to cool quickly. Mindful of this culinary reality, you won’t want to devour such a decadent creation right away; rather, the robust combination of flavors and textures deserves to be steadily enjoyed throughout its inevitable temperature descent. As creamed spinach, butter croutons and “citrus foam” team up with succulent sea meat on a spacious plate, in the company of thick crispy blocks of bacon, subtle oven-dried tomatoes and delightful dabs of salmon caviar, how could you possibly go wrong?
I myself am about to go wrong if I say more, because the reciting of these stunningly compatible ingredients seems to be compromising my writing concentration, leaving me yearning for another go at this exceptional entree. As such I shan’t go on but to recommend your own selection of this curiously named “Scallop BLT” upon your visit. The title proves deceiving, as what arrives before you is anything but a sandwich!
First you need a starter course, of course. Dare I suggest the above presentation of house-cured salmon adorned with olives, hearts of palm, breaded goat cheese and sea urchin vinaigrette– creatively unveiled on a “slab” fit for any fashionable kitchen– or is this just too much for you to contemplate from such a distance? Skip to dessert shall I, to the lavender creme brulee, fireside even? You’ll certainly want to top it off with some of the strongest and most satisfying coffee I’ve tasted in recent memory.
Anyone who says fine dining is dead has not experienced Maravilla at the Ojai Valley Inn & Spa. To dine here is to experience an evening of sincere yet simple elegance. The retelling of my pre-Christmas dinner reaches no quick end, as my numerous positive impressions abound– from selection, to service, to overall atmosphere, not to mention the welcoming bar to start off! Altogether, Maravilla leaves me with a glow on my face, a growl in my stomach and a tighter button on my pants. But why take my word for it? Savor it all for yourself.
As the 2013 L.A. Auto Show closes shop, I’m thinking of a handful of classic and not-so-classic models that were not there on display, including more than a couple I’ve always liked. For all that TIME Magazine told us back in 2007– via some clever and humorous writing to boot– the continued passage of, well– time– might change a few hearts but will never rewrite history. TIME’s collection of models can simply be called timeless.
Something’s missing, so I thought upon sight of one of the newest TV commercials— it just looks naked. Then upon personal investigation, I quickly assured myself that my sight is well intact.
Cadillac appears to be ushering in another change to its iconic and history-steeped emblem. Notice, the ad tags we’re now seeing show no wreath surrounding the coat of arms. I spotted this nakedness right away– and not to my delight. Apparently some call the discarded element outdated– old-fashioned– obsolete. Well, call me a traditionalist here. As the wreath gives way to a so-called “cutting-edge” image, I’m sorry to see it go.
Take a good look at the above prominent logo, and picture it sans wreath. A naked sight, no?
With the 50th anniversary upon us, all sorts of questions remain. New and old, sensible and outlandish, each is propelled by a keen and unyielding fascination surrounding the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.
Now feeding our collective, unsatisfied appetite is a captivating series of National Geographic documentaries once again dissecting the already-dissected moments of November 22, 1963, including JFK: The Lost Bullet,The Lost JFK Tapesand JFK: The Final Hours. Each of these productions turns out at least a few morsels of related and not-so-related facts that we might not have heard before but still find interesting. (I for one never knew eight-year-old actor-to-be Bill Paxton saw and photographed the president in Fort Worth that morning.)
Then we have the newest and much-promoted dramatization of Jack & Jackie Kennedy’s presidential life and final moments together, in NGC’s film adaptation of Bill O’Reilly’s novel Killing Kennedy. While the often-predictable Rob Lowe manages to pull off a decent portrayal of JFK, Ginnifer Goodwin’s re-creation of the first lady comes across– to me at least– as weak and unconvincing. (I’ve seen better “Jackies” over the years, thank you.) Altogether, the apparently common sentiment holds its ground, that this movie tells us nothing new, and definitely nothing outside the boundaries of the official yet increasingly disputed lone gunman theory.
Nevertheless, Killing Kennedy is worth watching for the sake of another welcome trip along that same old path of nostalgia that most Americans have traveled once, twice or 100 times over the past half century. The “newest” element to this so-called bland and unimaginative account comes in the powerful portrayal of Lee Harvey Oswald, played by the talented Will Rothhaar. In my initial opinion, he carries this film.
Watch and consider for yourself. Take in the sprinklings of history atop everything you no doubt already know. And watch the documentaries first, for this is where the real quenching of our fascination lies after all, even as all those questions– under whatever descriptor they fall– stack up faster than they might ever have answers.
Birthdays are typically marked with simple elegance– or if you prefer, elegant simplicity. The latest celebration– not my own this time– proved no exception. The Polo Lounge at The Beverly Hills Hotel remains the classic spot for a classy tribute, surrounded as always by the fascinating ghosts of Hollywood history.
Since when has there been any issue with the term elegant? While the apt descriptor thrives in varying degrees, never have I sensed a negative connotation with its use. Alas, I was momentarily taken aback.
Times, styles and terms change, fortunately and unfortunately. Today, fondly recalling my satisfying visits to the debatably elegant “palace of kitsch” circa 2000, my curious anticipation of its pending reopening goes without saying. For the final selection of bowls, plates, glasses and flatware with which we are ultimately presented, coupled with the long-in-coming new logo, among all else, I’m counting on a respectable degree of that apparently frowned-upon “elegance” here– at least as much as today’s seemingly not-so-old-fashioned, dress-code-adverse New Yorkers will allow. Must “hip” come at the expense of “elegant,” after all?
In any event, the “new” Tavern on the Green will soon open its doors– hopefully in the right direction. I’m looking forward to the experience on my next NYC visit, loss of “kitsch” noted. My fingers are crossed.
Be it a bulging bleu cheese burger cooked deliciously rare, a copious crab roll crying out for a bit more flavor, an ample Absolut Peppar martini or simply a ready round of the gloriously garlic potato chips, choices abound. The friendly service, peaceful atmosphere and comfortable accommodations come standard– whatever your selection might be.
Jimmy’s Pub always awaits, stylishly yet quietly tucked away at the Ojai Valley Inn & Spa.
If the question were: “Is ‘Modern Family’ the funniest new show on television?”, then indeed the answer would be a solid yes! (“30 Rock” is no longer, after all.) This might not be the promo’s pressing question, however, but rather a fan’s obvious takeaway. In any case, it seems we’ll be hearing a lot of “yes” this season!
Apparently it’s not 1990 anymore. And I have to admit I wasn’t paying attention of late. Upon first sight of a TV commercial for the all-new 2014 Infiniti Q50, instantly I thought: “Oh good, it’s about time a full-size Q returns to the helm, a descendant of that which initiated the brand 24 years ago. I can’t wait to get a look.”
The flagship Q of 1990.
Boy, was I wrong! Upon investigation of Infiniti’s website confusion set in. Then with further reading I sat corrected. Unlike the old days, tomorrow’s Q is not attempting to keep pace with S, 8 or 7. Rather, the return of the once-reigning letter kicks off Infiniti’s new nomenclature, a shift sure to put the “Q” in question.
The entry-level Q of 2014.
As for that look… well, as I’ve said before I say again, too many cars these days look alike. In other words, I’m at first glance underwhelmed. At this point I say the M remains Infiniti’s most unique and strongly styled model. Oh, but wait– with everything starting with “Q”, so long “M.” I better start paying attention!
“The Nixon presidency is endlessly fascinating, and his taped conversations, even now, are shocking, revealing and addictive.” (7/31/13)
Two out of three’s not bad, so I contemplated in reaction to these words in The New York Times.
The “new” audio-visual elements are indeed revealing, launching any interested viewer onto a potentially addictive historical journey. Shocking, no. Still, despite its expected and obvious editorial slant coupled with some peculiar musical selections, “Our Nixon” is well worth the watch.
Then, what Ben Stein has to say seems well worth the read. After all, there’s of course more than one viewpoint to consider along the journey, whatever descriptive terms one might employ.
Yet another new model? Are there not enough already? Hasn’t every possible market segment been covered? And what distinguishes this one from the others, aside from the number? So went my initial thoughts.
Upon further investigation I quickly learned it’s a replacement, which seems to make more sense. Three now becomes four, as BMW’s incoming 4 Series takes the place of the outgoing 3 Series Coupe. “Attractive though not unusual” is my take on this newest Bavarian, and as for the answer to my last question above:
“Park a 2014 4 Series next to a 2013 3 Series two-door and you’ll probably notice how much wider it appears. The 4 Series is 1.7 inches wider, with the rear track stretched 3.1 inches. The car’s wheelbase is two inches longer than before, but its height is 0.6 inches lower.”
So it is, from 3 to 4. We’ll just have to wait and see how quickly our heads turn out on the road!
A good 99 out of 100 television ads pass me by unnoticed, at least on any day without a Super Bowl. From time to time however comes one that bucks the trend. In this case a head-turning new car model teams up with a tuxedo-clad gentleman and one of my favorite singing voices of all time, altogether grabbing my attention just as intended. After all, anything “classic” wins with me– the nostalgist at heart– even as I remain unlikely to purchase the product at hand. Bottom line: I’m sold– but not– while delighted that the classic is back.
Through his humble and straightforward narrative style, I can hear her breathy voice calling his name, be it in amusement, annoyance, or a unique combination of the two. The deeply personal recounting of so many private yet fascinating moments yields a refreshing portrait of a woman subjected to so many portraits– in this case one without drama, sensation or agenda. Clint Hill takes us, his readers, on a one-on-one historical journey that only he can tell. And though “that day” came more than a decade before my birth, his frank and detailed words drew me in close enough to feel as if I were right there alongside him on November 22, 1963.
For all that’s been written about First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy over the past half century, only the U.S. Secret Service Agent assigned to her detail holds the otherwise unrecorded memories to write as he does. And Mr. Hill writes well in “Mrs. Kennedy and Me,” despite a few cases of grammatical usage that his proofreader apparently missed. She returns to life throughout these pages as calculating yet reasonable, demanding yet understanding, mischievous yet respectful– and the descriptors can easily go on. As her voice speaks through the pages, above all else I imagine her picking up a copy from beyond, glancing at it with a stunned yet captivated expression, and in disbelief that yet another entire book has been written about her, immediately calling out, “Oh, Mr. Hill…”
“Really? So THAT’S how it happened?! What a letdown.” At least this was my first line of thought. Moments later my second mental train departed, leaving me reassuring myself: “Oh, ok. Maybe this really was the right way to do it after all. I suppose this season finale does make sense when you think about it.”
And now– dare I say– it makes even more sense to call it quits. While certainly the last person to want to say this, I must be realistic, as too should any true series follower. Larry Hagman is dead, and so now is J.R. Ewing. The villains have been rounded up if not eliminated. Points of peace have been reached, at least among the principal players. And speaking of Principal, Victoria will not be stopping by. J.R. executed his masterpiece while voluntarily extinguishing himself. Ultimately slipping past any killer’s hands, he dictated the manner of his death– and with justifiable reason. While a disappointment this long-in-coming revelation initially seemed, the most fitting sendoff it settled in to be.
After 35 years, it’s time now for “Dallas” to be done, for good. J.R. and all that comes with him have been laid to rest, so it seems. How could it– and why should it– go on? There’s only so much nostalgia to be milked, which could soon wear painfully thin. Unfortunate as it is to have to say, I believe we best lay all the Ewings to rest on this momentary high note.
Intrigued? Yes. Sold? Not quite yet. I’ll need to see more– much more– of this newest member of the family before knowing what I really think. While her lines are attractive no doubt, I fear ultimate disappointment for– among a number of possible reasons– just being too small for any human being six feet and above. Then, starting at the entry-level price point, are we not already wondering how many expected amenities are in place– or not– at the outset? In any event, my attention is present– along with my questions. Much more remains to be revealed at this point, and for better or worse I’m looking forward to getting better acquainted with the all-new 2014 Mercedes-Benz CLA. In the meantime, you might enjoy this photo gallery as much as I do!
At least now I know a new member of the family is on the way. Naturally the spot for the 2014 CLA grabbed and held my attention. Otherwise, with nods to a band of mischievous senior citizens, a supremely confident young Audi driver, and the indelible words of the late great Paul Harvey, the entire lot this year struck me as rather lackluster. While Tide did amusingly remind us that “no stain is sacred,” my overall impression remains.
So comes and goes another colorful installment of Super Bowl commercials. I’m left with just about as little to say as last year, with nowhere near as much to applaud as two years ago. This time around the game itself proved the more interesting show, close but not close enough as it turned out for San Francisco!
He made mistakes– big, grave mistakes. Many people were hurt severely, and plenty of legal business remains. Now after part two of his Oprah interview, I do believe Lance Armstrong is sorry. I also continue to believe this cocky, arrogant survivor deserves to earn gradual forgiveness over time, based on his actions from here forward to repair some of the damage within his capabilities. His first steps have begun.
It’s certainly no surprise that far more bad than good has been said about the now-banned professional cyclist in the past 24 hours. Various talking heads– myself excluded– seem to be taking the easy road by belittling his interview, writing off his explanations as somehow not good enough. But then, how could they ever be?
Lance has an ego no doubt, and he’s holding onto it wherever he can. This is to be expected. Then when it comes to his children, the ego falls and emotion takes charge. Once again, Lance is human. Nevertheless, his interview is neither surreal nor jaw-dropping, and unlike Oprah, I was not mesmerized. He’s doing what he can today, forced into it as he might be, mindful of the deep hole he dug for himself– and I am listening. Still, it appears nothing he says– no way of phrasing it or spelling it out– will ever be good enough for his critics and his enemies. He remains in a no-win situation of his own making.
Lance knows this is a tough time, though understandably not the most difficult he’s lived through next to his advanced cancer diagnosis. He knows many if not most people will never believe him now– that it’s too late– that he’s made his own bed. Would he like to compete again? Of course he would! I could have answered that before he did. Will he? It’s unlikely at this point, though we’ll see what transpires.
Remorse will prove itself and forgiveness will be earned– so at least I can hope. Mistakes were made, lies were perpetuated, lives were greatly affected– and today, the past is just that. Like it or not, the doped-up, lying, seven-time Tour de France champion-turned-disgrace has now– at last– taken his first steps on his new road to some form of redemption. From here, we– like he– must only look ahead.
He did not invent the culture, but he also did not try to stop the culture. This among many truths speaks volumes in part one of Oprah’s much-anticipated– if not overly pre-discussed– interview of Lance Armstrong.
There’s much to say about the disgraced cyclist, and no doubt much is already being said in the wake of tonight’s airing– all which I’ve yet to read upon this writing. For now, I take away this: Lance is a man, a human being, and as he readily admits, deeply flawed. At this late point there are no surprises, no shocking revelations, and no reasons for continued outrage. What happened– in terms of his doping, the series of lies that followed, and those affected throughout– is known to all. Is the whole story now not growing old?
Lance speaks to Oprah quite humbly and with apparent honesty. The most polished speaker he is not, nor expected to be. Nevertheless, for the “jerk” and the “bully” he owns up to having been, here he seems as real as he may allow himself to be. No matter the potentially unsavory details of what brought him to this interview chair, he maintains relative clarity, free of defensiveness and– to his credit– admitting his mistakes while repeatedly refraining from any finger-pointing.
“Winning at all costs” served him well at the time, a common though detrimental human mindset which holds at least some degree of understanding apart from the disapproval placed on it. What’s more important today is Lance’s lucid hindsight, as he now recognizes the wrongs that did not appear to him then. Defiant? Check. Arrogant? Check. And, still an able leader and an admirable humanitarian? Check.
As with most if not all public figures, from actors to politicians to elite athletes, one does not view himself from the same perspective as does the public. Lance reminds us now of this reality. As we best carefully consider the judgment we place upon him, he seems to be doing a decent job of judging himself. At the same time he’s prepared for the rest of his life to be apologizing and earning back what trust he can, Lance has declared he is happier today than he was while taking his yellow jerseys. He appears to grasp the reality of where he’s come, despite yesterday, and regardless of all that might await. This seems most important.
He once saw a level playing field, and now the playing field has been leveled. Lance’s past actions are clearly disappointing, but I do not dislike him– a double negative that indicates my cautious regard for him. I say this now, mindful of all that I– and you– still do not know, and might never know. But then, do we really need to? Lance is finally coming clean in his way, the sport of cycling is evolving as it deems necessary, and the past is just that. Again, he is human, complete with the same disappointing behavior set that has defined so many throughout history. The rest simply needs to be, shall we say– laid to rest.
I hope and predict that Lance Armstrong will rise again in some unusual and perhaps unforeseen capacity. For this simultaneously unique yet not-so-unique figure, there must surely be life “after Oprah.” But first, part two!
From the smiling reminder that standard schtick works– thanks to Will Ferrell and Kristen Wiig– to the sobering reminder that we all are aging– thanks to Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger– to the intellectual reminder that a well-written speech always wins– thanks to Jodie Foster– the 70th Annual Golden Globes certainly presented us with a series of memorable moments. Most of all perhaps, we’re reminded that the fabulously never-lagging duo of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler can be upstaged– if only for a moment– by one, and only one, figure bigger than the two of them combined, otherwise known as “Hillary Clinton’s husband.”
It’s true once more. As I’ve noted time and again, old school never fails. A visit to the above-pictured historical establishment is highly recommended anytime you happen to find yourself hungry and thirsty– healthy yet not necessarily obese wallet in tow– in the Union Square vicinity of San Francisco. Anytime, this is to say, except perhaps a Saturday night in December when getting the lone bartender’s attention may present a challenge during the extended table wait. Nevertheless, if you’re already guessing the “old school” menu feature that for me of course is a must, then along with a heaping side of history you might enjoy it as well!
For attentive, efficient and confident service, along with delightfully tasteful live music, an elegantly stunning bar display, and one of the most scrumptious filet mignons in town, Mastro’s Steakhouse is always a winner. Ambiance, tone and overall presentation remained unmatched in my book, not to mention the large martini shaker remains on the table for your own copious second pour! While I’ve yet to be hit with a less-than-thoroughly satisfying experience at Mastro’s, it’s a safe bet to say I never will, thankfully enough.
After all these years, she still turns heads. The now-classic grand coupe continues to grab my attention every increasingly rare time she crosses my path. Nothing else quite competes with the Mercedes-Benz 560 SEC in terms of overall style and simple elegance. This beauty remains a strong number two on my MBZ wish list!
A large, rugged and distinctive off-road SUV has been reduced to an over-sized station wagon– again– whose unimpressive styling could easily be mistaken for any number of competitors already on the road. If it wasn’t enough to lose the truck-based Ford Explorer, now too the Nissan Pathfinder has fallen, sadly enough.
If gas mileage is your priority while never leaving pavement, the all-new lighter unibody V-6 Pathfinder might present some appeal. However, if you enjoy navigating eight cylinders through snow, sand and other sorts of challenging terrain– and don’t mind paying for it– you just might miss what’s no longer. I know I do.
Lance has an ego no doubt, and he’s holding onto it wherever he can. This is to be expected. Then when it comes to his children, the ego falls and emotion takes charge. Once again, Lance is human. Nevertheless, his interview is neither surreal nor jaw-dropping, and unlike Oprah, I was not mesmerized. He’s doing what he can today, forced into it as he might be, mindful of the deep hole he dug for himself– and I am listening. Still, it appears nothing he says– no way of phrasing it or spelling it out– will ever be good enough for his critics and his enemies. He remains in a no-win situation of his own making.
Ryan R. Sanderson 