Socrates & Plato, Anne Sullivan & Helen Keller... Tami Taylor & Tyra Collette

It seems that my brain is a little foggy since I now have two bottles of Coors Light next to me, both open and filled to the brim, yet I’m drinking alone. I’m not certain if there’s a specific individual to whom I should attribute the accidental opening of bottle number two, however, to the collective being at Netflix/NBC/DirecTV/God’s People circa 2008 or so, my finger is pointing in your direction. Always having been one to make sure that a trend is good and popular before jumping in on the action, it is now, two-plus years after the show's series finale, that I was finally convinced to begin watching Friday Night Lights… and it was two weeks later that I finished it. That’s an average of 5 ½ episodes per day. Yeah, that’s right, I’m really fucking good at watching TV... (and yes, I sincerely apologize for not jumping on the bandwagon when the show was actually on the air...)

Even still, I won’t get into my own life saga or the specifics of holding off on watching the show, but I will tell you that when it originally aired, I was working in television in LA, and I feared that the depiction of any real-life place with open spaces or trees might actually cause me to dust off my Skip-it and play on the 405 during rush-hour. In contrast, now I’m hanging onto the caboose of Dillon, Texas from the comfort of my parents’ basement with a Wal-Mart in one direction and nothing in the other. In other words, I’ve solved my previous conundrum.

 It was around four years ago that I went on an ill-fated date with a guy who took me out for pie and told me that “Friday Night Lights really effed up, and the writers, like, had to apologize and stuff.” So as I watched what I now consider basically the greatest show of all-time, I waited and I waited for this earth shattering moment to drop from the sky. In my world though, a world in which my mom raised me on One Life to Live and I majored in Beverly Hills, 90210 during my formative years, had the internet not demanded my outrage at Landry avenging Tyra’s attack by snuffing out the bandit, I wouldn’t have ever realize what Pie-Man was talking about. People get hit by lead pipes all the time – just ask Professor Plumb, he’s in the study.

In any case, I freely admit that I didn’t love this show right away. However, before you tell me what an asshole I am, please know that at this current moment, I’m wearing a Dillon Football shirt and searching my area for abandoned copper wire with which I’m hoping to get the jumpstart I need towards owning 25 acres of land one day with Tim Riggins by my side. Some people dream. Some people, like me, dream big.

Now that I’m on the subject of dreaming, I digress to the original point of my late-night rant which is to address the disappointment I feel towards whichever chucklehead it was who decided to hack apart my new favorite show and edit crucial moments out of the version I saw. Ok, you can claim they're not crucial. Here’s my rebuttal… I spent the twenty-six episodes following Tyra Collette’s season three departure with my head cocked to the side and a dazed look on my face wondering when there might be any indication that my newfound fictitious life idol would come to some kind of resolution of gratitude with her own mentor, Tami. I didn’t spend twenty-four hours waiting for Godot because no one cared enough to shoot the scene, it turns out. Apparently someone – someone-edited out the sub-one-minute hug-it-out moment from the season three finale and later claimed on the DVDs that it's part of a “different storyline.” Huh? How could a three season arc be part of a different fucking storyline?

Yes, the show is just good. And yes, people are going to have their own opinions on this – and I've now read many of them through odd fan fiction and comment threads online. But here I will say that the turning point in my personal investment of the show - the day that I stopped playing Tetris while listening to it in the background - was the day that I realized how much I cared about Tyra. It’s possible that I see a little of myself in the formerly misguided teen. For instance, I too received a “go eat glass” letter from my top-choice university, and I too lost my shit on everyone around me and begged the school to let me in. And I can tell you firsthand that though Tyra’s results might “not be typical,” her eventual acceptance into this school isn’t completely out of the realm of possibility either.

Right around the time that NBC was finally airing season five, I was on a ”quarter-century crisis” driving tour across America, and I can safely declare that Tyra is the only other person “I’ve met” who understands how scary it is to be alone at an Econo Lodge. The writers didn’t exaggerate here. You would call your principal. You would call your congressman. You would call the drug dealer down the street who previously gave you directions if it meant someone would lead you the hell out of there. Luckily for Tyra, she has Mrs. T on her team, and luckily for me, I had recently purchased a Daisy Air Rifle from the Wal-Mart museum and figured that from a distance, it didn’t look a whole lot different than a shotgun. (Read more on that: http://ifeellikeiwillfindit.com/2011/06/15/day-13-june-15/)

At one point, Tami tells Tyra, “I’ve made an investment in you,” and I echo this sentiment entirely when it comes to watching these characters. When Tami sweeps up remnants from the glass coffee table that Tyra's mother sits on (Mensa applications due next month), I want to sweep glass. (Side note: Kelly Taylor’s mother also goes through a glass table on Beverly Hills 90210 so it’s more common than you'd think). When Tami coaches Tyra in volleyball, I want to see her win. When Tami tells Tyra that Cash is a no good, bull-riding loser headed for nowhere, I want the bull to turn back for Dillon. When Tami reprimands Tyra for winning the student council election with a questionable campaign strategy, I want to give Tyra a high-five and say, “sure I’m ten years older than you, but you’re a lot cooler than I am”… ok, so that one doesn’t really work. But when Tami says, “you’re going to college,” I swiftly slide to the edge of my seat, waiting for it to happen.

It’s because of this investment that I’ve made in watching the show that I took note in sharpie when Tyra receives her acceptance letter to college, and per the version of the events that unfolded before me, doesn’t so much as nod a "thank you" in Tami’s direction. In fact, I was so thrown off by this lack of closure, and by the fact that their final conversation is marred by sadness and disappointment in a car outside Dallas, that not only did this void cloud the entire series for me, it sent me to a place I rarely travel in search of some kind of theory or explanation – the message boards. The place where the real fans tell you what's actually going on. And as usual, they provided the answers I'd been seeking.

The tireless fans of the show had asked the same questions that I did and led me to the 30-second conversation that someone evidently decided I should never get to see. A conversation in which Tyra does thank Tami for her help to which Tami responds, “you don’t have to thank me, just go kick ass.” A conversation that is alluded to in the series finale when Tyra tells her friends, “I’m halfway through college, and I’m kicking ass.” A conversation that takes the girl who reminded me that I should want to be invited to the White House (how had I let that dream escape me?) from ungrateful and selfish to grateful and selfish. A conversation that makes all the difference to me as a viewer while watching this show.

I’m sure that I don’t understand how this kind of thing works, and I can live with that. However, if you’re reading this and you find yourself in a position to edit a television show one day, please remember one thing. Sometimes you have to skimp on an ingredient. That’s life. You can give someone a jelly sandwich, you can give someone a peanut butter sandwich, you can even fold over one piece of bread if you’re determined to hang onto both the peanut butter and the jelly. But whatever you do and whatever you decide to leave out, the sandwich needs to close. You can’t wrap something up that isn’t finished, and no one wants to eat their lunch with sticky hands.... In other words, don't screw with my favorite characters please.

Me, making a potentially life-saving purchase. 

Tyra, unarmed at an Econo Lodge

The News Cruise

People (who in our eyes have blue hair and play bridge) like to talk about the great Walter Cronkite and his denouncement of the Vietnam War. These people like to tell us about the men who walked on the moon, the Iranian hostages, and the Berlin wall falling down. They remember Barbara Walters interviewing heads of state, the excitement of a special televised broadcast from the White House, the thrill of a hockey victory in 1980, and the agony of their favorite candidates losing their battles for the presidency or announcing that they did not plan to seek reelection. These people lived these things and more. They lived them and they saw them, and they did that in large part because of televised news. It is often said that the Kennedy/Nixon debate was proclaimed a victory for Nixon by those people who heard it on the radio (that thing that plays music out of the dashboard of your car), but was placed as a check mark in the Kennedy corner for those people who watched it on television. And that says enough. TV changed news. What I'm sure people like Cronkite and Pat Weaver didn't anticipate though was news itself would change, and the word "great" would be used only sparingly, and in past tense, to describe something that had existed only long ago.

Ted Turner might have been a visionary. In 1980, right in the midst of hostages, Olympic boycotts, an election, and the growing popularity of the microwave oven; an all day, everyday, channel dedicated exclusively to all things world wide news was a forward thinking concept. Years before Al Gore would invent the Internet, a 24/7 televised news channel was the best way to stay up to date with information as it unfolded throughout the day. CNN started out by showing viewers footage of global crises, asked citizens about their opinions, and told us about the things that seemed to really matter. These guys stationed themselves in Flordia after the Challenger disaster and donned night vision goggles to take us into Desert Storm. Whatever the news of the day, they were there, and because of them, we were all there too.

The channel is still with us, but the news has changed. So then the question is raised, has the news changed to reflect the demand of society? or has society changed as a result of the so-called news that it's given? This could be tougher than the one about the chicken or the egg. I remember watching "The Today Show" as a kid and learning about the struggles and triumphs impacting citizens across the world. About the war in Bosnia and the Million Man March in Washington D.C. I had an informed opinion about Bill Clinton at age 9, and was given the opportunity to read an essay that I had written on gun control on air at CNN at age 10. Then the other day, at age 24, I was watching the same news magazine program that has been in existence since 1952, and I continued to learn. This time, in "Today"s world, instead of hearing about the realities of Obama's surge into Afghanistan or the bombing in the Middle East, I was introduced to a couple who attempted to crash a White House dinner, a dinner that I can only assume was also attended by influential and above all, invited, guests. And rather than simply giving me the names of the party crashers, I was also provided with an in-depth analysis into whether or not there was a White House insider secretly pulling for their admittance into the event. I have heard this story before, and I'm pretty sure this White House insider was staying at a hotel located at 2650 Virginia Avenue. I also now know that John Edwards did in fact father a baby named Quinn while his wife is fighting cancer, and I know that one of Obama's economic advisors is engaged to a new girlfriend despite the fact that he just fathered a baby with an old girlfriend. I can't remember his name, and I don't know what he does, but I do know that he insists that the relationship started after he had broken up with baby mama # 2 (he already has children from a previous marriage), and that's what I got from the story.

As far as recent events go, I can't help but to think of the balloon boy (maybe it's because of my bright yellow T-shirt that reads, "Go Falcon, Go") when I think of the evolution of news over the last 10, 20, and 50 years. Even after Balloon Hoax 2009 was exposed to its most inner core, every news outlet in America was still willing to give the crooks, who would eventually be tried in federal court, the full fifteen minutes that they had been seeking. When the balloon came down, with no kid inside, and the whole thing began to unravel, the media didn't shun these lowlives, they wanted them more. It didn't matter that the parents had wasted the time of the National Guard or that the story wasn't true, it was news. It was the news we wanted. It was when I saw the boy literally throw up on "Good Morning America" and then upchuck again on "The Today Show," and then heard a guy discuss both instances of puke through the box in my car that usually only plays music, that I began to think about how this kind of thing could have happened.

The story initially reminded me of Jessica McClure, tiny "Baby Jessica," who fell into a well in her Midland, Texas yard on an October day in 1987. Notwithstanding the obvious questions, "were these people Amish? Who the hell used a well in 1987?", this event helped CNN land itself as a household name as it televised the unfolding drama without any interruption. All news, all the time, that's CNN. Therefore, the 2009 balloon incident seemingly stayed pretty true to CNN's initial purpose. A kid was in danger, and CNN was going to keep us with them until that kid was saved (or until he was scraped off of a freeway somewhere between Colorado and Nebraska). It wasn't until I thought about the differences between the two incidences that I realized that the discrepencies between them sum up the change not only in news but in our society as well. In 2009, a family wanted a balloon to lift it to a life of fame and fortune by taking us all for a ride, and the media was right there, just as eager to use the story for its own self-promotion. While in 1987... a family just wanted to get its kid out of a well.

Party Planning

Ever since I heard Steve Urkel explain on his one-episode stint of "Full House" that he was born during the year of America's bicentennial, I knew I was sorry that I had missed this great event of 1976. As someone who doesn't think that there is any real purpose for any of the other so called "nations" to be taking up our land on earth, as a person who still thinks of the British, Japanese, and Soviets as permanent enemies, and as a proud patriot who outright rejects foreign art and culture, any excuse to funnel beer, play country music, light fireworks, and wave a flag from the back of my Chevy while eating McDonalds and flag cake is a holiday for me. And I have always been certain that the bicentennial was just the kind of event that must have encouraged this kind of outlandish American spirit, and a big "screw you" attitude to any of these other so-called "countries" who for the most part, have been around much longer than 200 years yet have failed to invent the fast food restaurant, strip mall, mega-church, or even one stop shopping. To think that Napoleon never got to shop at a Wal-Mart, I could never be friends with a man like that. Rather than spending millions of dollars on a NASA-type program that sent their men to the moon with one of their flags to plant on its surface, the un-American morons invented something called "universal healthcare" giving away money to their people to use here on earth so that they could do things like go to the doctor and get medicine. Oh yeah guys? As if taking care of your citizens on a day to day basis is really "one giant leap for mankind." These other (mostly non-English speaking) places are not for me, and for many years now, I have been very upset that I missed the granddaddy of Independence Day celebrations, the one where I really could have illustrated my love for these 50 states, and I missed it by a mere 9 and a half years. Therefore, I have made it my life's goal to live to see July 4, 2076, at 90 and a half years old. It is my mission, and I have chosen to accept it, to salute the Statue of Liberty (or atleast still be breathing) for America's tricentennial. I have started to tell anyone who will listen to me about my plans to be at the tricentennial, and I have been met with a varying degree of responses. Some people, a lawyer who graduated from Harvard for instance, suggested that I would have to be over 120 to make it to 2100. Another person thought that the bicentennial occurred in the 80's. Nonetheless, I don't let these should-be Mensa members deter me from my goals, and I have also found a slew of supporters who have given me tips about health and longevity (eat carrots, avoid plastic, cell phones, the sun, aspertame, sugar, high fructose corn syrup, too much red wine, not enough red wine, milk chocolate, non-organic meat, caffeine, R rated movies - you get the picture). One such aid in my quest even went so far as to Google the tricentennial for me, and I was absolutely shocked by what she found. As it turns out, I am not the only one with my sights set on 2076. In fact, there is an organizing committee (http://www.2076.org/) already in the works... for the event which will not occur for another 66 years. Naturally, I contacted the other friends of the tricentennial, and I would like to share with you my attempt at outreach. (I have not yet received a response, so if any of you know Mary of the 2076 committee, please pass along my contact info)...

Hi Mary,

I see that you are on the committee for the 2076 celebrations. What exactly is this group doing as far as the planning for the event goes? I am very interested in the tricentennial, and as I am currently 23 years old, in very good health, and have strong spirit, I think my chances of making it to our nation's 300th birthday are very good. If there is anything specific that you would like me to do when I get to 2076, please let me know. I want to see your group's wishes carried out in the event that not all of your members make it. Please let me know if you need any help in the current year as well in regards to the organizing and the planning as I believe it is never too early to start preparations for such large gatherings - I make a mean Jell-O mold for instance. Which actually brings up a good point, we should probably start stocking up on items we might want at the party like Jell-O and TAB. Since it is already difficult to get TAB, I would think we would certainly not be able to buy it day-of. Unfortunately, Clear Pepsi and New Coke are already out of the question. I am also good at anticipating upcoming trends, so I will not only be an asset today, but in the coming years as well. I will not provide my cell phone number because in 2076 I suspect that you will simply be able to chant "Catherine" and I will materialize. Since the name is steadily falling off the popularity charts, I don't anticipate much confusion because I will likely be one of the few "Catherine"s left - although they probably said the same thing about "Emma" a few years back... so who knows.

Anyway, I would love to help, and I am already looking forward to the big event. Please keep in touch.

Catherine

The Jersey Shore: Now THAT'S Entertainment

There was once a dark moment in my life when I thought to myself, "will there ever be a reality show that I will enjoy watching as much as any of 'The Real Housewives'?" But that fear haunts me no more. Because this week, I uncovered the tackiest, most awesomely ridiculous, are these people serious?, reality show of all time (ok not all time, let's say post-"Paradise Hotel" but you get the gist). Finally, MTV has an answer to those fantastically fabulous Bravo housewives and all those overgrown families on TLC. An answer that comes to us in the form of the "Guido," an answer that can only be considered a gift from God, an answer that MTV has dubbed (drumroll please)... THE JERSEY SHORE.

My mother grew up going to the Jersey Shore every summer, so there was a brief time in my life when my parents pretended that this tradition would continue with me, but for the last 15 years my family has adopted a new tradition.. not going to the Jersey Shore. As a result, I remember very little about the Shore itself. What I do remember vividly however is the strict belief within my family that Point Pleasant was wholesome, clean, and family oriented, and Seaside Heights was dingy, scummy, seedy, and a place to be avoided at all costs. I feel that I needn't say more about which location MTV has selected for it's newest goldmine.

Although the entire show is filled with gems (of the emerald, ruby, and sapphire variety) from beginning to end, I think it's important to bring up what I consider to be the show's shining moment. Similar to the way in which the cast members from "The Real World" converge on a house by staking their claim on beds and unpacking their belongings, our friends from "The Jersey Shore" set sail by picking rooms and deciding who to share these rooms with. Aside from the orange skin, "Sopranos" accents, and bad attitudes, the first 15 minutes of the show could have actually been mistaken for "The Real World: Mob Edition." That is until something happened that set "The Jersey Shore" wildly apart from any small potatoes Bunim-Murray 7 strangers-type set up. And this something was when Angelina, the self proclaimed "Kim Kardashian" of the Shore, arrived to check out the new digs and unpack her belongings. It wasn't what she brought to the house that caused me to rewind my DVR three times, it was what she brought her stuff in. And that "what" you maybe wondering wasn't a suitcase, it wasn't a duffle bag, and it wasn't even a plastic cooler. Angelina, aka Kim Kardashian, brought her stuff to the house in a big, plastic, wishes it were made by Hefty, sack... as in, who needs a zipper when you have a twist-tie, as in... a giant, black, trashbag.

And it was with that, in all its trashbag wiedling glory, that I realized I had found a new love. Guidos and Guidettes, let the good times roll. I will be cheering you on from my recliner each week.

Party on Italy, Party on.

Are Yooou Afraid of the Dark?

Long before Alicia Silverstone gifted her the prized role of Cher Horowitz on the hit (?) ABC sitcom, "Clueless" (I would offer a "well played" to Alicia but then I think of "Excess Baggage"), Rachel Blanchard was sitting around a campfire with a bucket of water (or was it sand?) and a group of extreme rebels who dubbed their ultra hip gang, "The Midnight Society." These reckless teens weren't just gossiping about the typical ghost or run of the mill clown (see below photo) either, and they certainly weren't sitting on SNICK's famed orange couch, they were in the wilderness - without any supervision - scaring the crap out of each other and encouraging young kids to do the same to their peers. And I for one got that message loud and clear.

There was always a big fat solid line differentiating the kids who could handle "Are You Afraid of the Dark?" and the kids who couldn't. Although I was beyond proud to be allowed to stay up with the babysitter for the 9:30-10 timeslot when my neighbor was crying in protest for being forced to go to bed, I think it later became clear that I should have been placed in the latter group - the one that was not exposed to the boy who chants "I'm cold" or the girl who writes "help me" backwards because she is trapped in the mirror. Not so much because it scared me, but because I used it as a very real inspiration to screw with others.

Something tells me that in the world today, where kids sit in carseats until they're 11 and only drink organic milk, this kind of show wouldn't fly. But back then, when parents saved time and money by shoveling Chicken McNuggets and french fries into their backseats and bought Coca-Cola by the case, "Are You Afraid of the Dark?" was only natural. On during the Nickelodeon Saturday night line up, when no early 90's parent in their right mind was actually home, the 11 years olds, who now sit in carseats, were given $5 an hour to come open the door for the pizza man and supervise the viewing of SNICK headlined by "Clarissa Explains It All" and "Ren and Stimpy." And the great thing was that if kids were afraid by "Are You Afraid of the Dark?" (as you would assume any Nickelodeon-age child would be), it was the babysitters problem - you weren't home for at least another 4 hours.

That being said, far from "Tailspin" or "Under the Umbrella Tree," The Midnight Society offered an alternate universe, one where bad things did happen to good people. People died, kids were unkind to one another, and it was well documented that a ghost could come into your room in the middle of the night with the sole purpose of terrorizing you until you fulfilled his or her long standing wishes. Worst yet, you could unknowlingly purchase a cursed camera, take a picture of your parents, and cause their death in a horrible and brutal car accident - all of this obvious material for a children's television show. Beyond all the fright and terror though, the most important thing about the show was that kids absolutely loved it. And, in my particular case, used it as a learning tool.

The first time that I remember falling into the AYAOTD trap was in 3rd grade. Instead of being content with my crayons and latest VHS episode of "The Babysitters Club" TV show from the video fan club I had enrolled in, I decided to mix things up a bit. I had seen something about Bloody Mary on the show, and for some reason I felt it only made sense to tell a classmate that the reason she looked pale in the mirror was because she was going to die. To top things off, I convinced her that this had once happened to a friend of my grandmother's and that if she told any adults, she would DEFINITELY die. This lasted all day. For whatever reason, my teacher went on to confirm that Bloody Mary was real (I think she was referring to the drink), and other classmates started to get in on the joke by chiming in with their own reassurances that the girl was doomed. Needless to say, the Bloody Mary stricken classmate was up all night, and her mother wrote a stern letter to my teacher. I was reprimanded in front of the entire class, and the friendship would never be the same. To be completely honest, I still think it's a little funny. I mean who would fall for that? But nevertheless, strike one for me and "Are You Afraid of the Dark?"

The bigger incident, directly relating to "Are You Afraid of the Dark?," came during my prank calling heydey. I had seen a ghost-boy whimper "help me" to some non-ghost kids on the show and for whatever reason, I thought that this would be a more than appropriate punchline for one of my cool and ingenious prank calls. I decided not to leave it at that though. When no one answered the random number that I had dialed, I muffled my voice and left "help me, help me" on my unsuspecting victim's answering machine - seriously. I actually did this. About 5 minutes later, my new phone buddy called back. Naturally, I hung up on her, so sure enough she called back again. This time she spoke to my father. It turns out that she had one of those brand new caller ID devices - the ones that give you the caller's name and number. Evidently, as she claimed, if she hadn't gotten our number, her call back would have gone to the police. I guess you would call the police if you got "help me" on your answering machine and thought your nephew might be in trouble. Needless to say, my clear, D.J. Tanner - esque, phone was put away in my closet for a very long time. And on some level, I guess I have always felt I really only had Nickelodeon to blame. Isn't that what you're supposed to say? "I saw a guy rob a bank on "Law and Order" and it looked like a good idea."

All in all, we all have an episode that scared us the most (mine was about a hippie who died in a school fire caused by a bunson burner - in fact, I convinced my cabin to act this one out on parents day at Camp Timber Ridge), and I would love to watch this show again as a 24-year old. Would I show it to my 5 year old niece? No I wouldn't. But then again, I wouldn't relive my 1992 trip to Disney World by sticking her in the front car of Space Mountain by herself either. And I must say, I am glad to have grown up in a world with Dunkaroos for school snacks, Super Soaker weapons, prank calls, and "Are You Afraid of the Dark?" - Afterall, I have a feeling that organic milk really isn't my thing anyway.

The City

AKA "What to do when you work with Olivia... and you don't have a gun handy."

While watching "The City" lately, I have noticed an eery similarity between Olivia and Sara Foster's horrible character, Jen Clark, on "90210" (see the above photos as example A.) So much so that when I try to picture Sara in my head, I can typically only see the image of Olivia. And I always want it to go away... swiftly.

Realizing that there is a real Jen Clark out there initially made me very sad for our world wide community, but then I thought about it on a more local scale. What if you were Erin and you actually had to work with this person? What if you had to deal with this person everyday?! I started to think of some suggestions.

Disclaimer...In no way do I promote violence so let's assume that there aren't any weapons around. (Besides if there were, you probably would have killed yourself long ago. You wouldn't have a chance at zapping Olivia because her brain washed army would surely overtake you in her defense, but you would likely be able to get a clear shot at yourself. Still, I don't think this is the answer). Instead, here are some examples of routes you could take..

#1. Make a drinking game out of it. Since Olivia's minions won't want to play, an office game is out of the question, but a drinking game can easily be played on your own and is just as fun. One drink everytime she speaks in a fake British accent. Two drinks everytime she already knows the person you are introducing her to (three drinks if she met this person in the Hamptons). Three drinks if Joe gives her the ole, "well done" in a meeting you are both in even when you know she couldn't have screwed up the task more. Four drinks if she shows up to work in a blazer. and FIVE drinks everytime she responds to a direct question with any variation of "I didn't know" ("I didn't realize," "you didn't tell me," "no one said" etc. - you get the idea.)

#2. An oldie but a goodie, tape a sign that says "I think I'm better than you" and stick it on her back. The sentiment will still be true even when she finally discovers the note on the back of her blazer, but atleast you will have gotten a few hours of joy out of it first.

#3. Take a page out of "The Real World" team's book from "The Real World/Road Rules Challenge 2000" and send Olivia on some fake missions. "The Real World"-ers had "Road Rules" painting toe nails and burying themselves in the sand, but in this case you could tell Olivia that "Elle" is doing a story on homeless people and send her out to panhandle for a few hours. If that fails, you could go with a simpler approach by making up the names of fake designers who she has to find and interview within the next 3 and a half hours. Better yet, convince her somehow that Ralph Lauren has stopped producing blazers and she should run to the stores and buy a lifetime supply... the sky is the limit here... use your own creativity. These are just suggestions.

#4. Arrive to the office early and hide all of her stuff. When she finally strolls in hours later, give her a confused look and question, "who the hell are you?" Best case scenario, she will retreat for her castle thinking that she never worked there in the first place. Worst case scenario, she's pissed and demands that you return her belongings... either way, it will be really funny.

#5. Buy one of those best friends necklaces and give her the other half. Her confusion and annoyance will be hilarious enough to make this worth the effort. "Erin, what is this supposed to mean?" "umm... that we're best friends Olivia. You can't be that stupid.... even though you did panhandle for a few hours the other day."

And finally suggestion #6. Quit and go work for a magazine that didn't hire Olivia.

Good luck out there Erin.

Ode to Generation Y

A 2004 Graduation
Written April 2004


It seems like only yesterday we were watching "Saved by the Bell" and feeding our Giga Pets. Alright, I'll admit it, it was only yesterday that I caught up with Zack and the gang, but my Giga has long been in electronic pet heaven. So I've come to the conclusion that it's time to hang up our Ked high top sneakers for good and put on some more durable shoes - hopefully slightly more fashionable - so that we can march off into the real world in style. Maybe we are marching to the beat of Doug Funnie banging on his trashcan, heading off to particular place - one that can be seen on even the foggiest of days, or maybe we are walking - or crawling - Tommy Pickles style to somewhere slightly less defined. But whatever the pace or whatever the destination, we'll get there. We'll all get there whether sprinting or skipping, we will all reach our destinations even if they're not yet clearly labeled on the map. Don't be afraid of the unknown; don't be the kid on "Double Dare" who has to admit to Marc Summers that he is too scared to take the physical challenge. Climb to the top of the Aggro Crag because when Mike O'Malley asks, we should all respond that "yes, we do have it; we do have guts." We all have what it takes to stand up to any adversity and succeed. We're not afraid of hard work, after all, we saw our parents make Jell-o and Rice Krispies Treats in the kitchen, years before the clever packaging. We were the ones who had to beg for Barbie Jeeps, Moon Shoes, and Nintendos - we will take on the challenge even if the chances of success appear grim. Most importantly, no matter where we are or where our journey leads, we will always have each other and our pasts to hold onto. We're the ones who grew up with the Tanner family and we all have a favorite Ninja Turtle and Power Ranger. We remember who collected the most Pogs and who always won the elementary school mile run. We used our first credit cards in Mall Madness and collectively spent more hours setting up Mouse Trap than we ever spent playing it. Most of us know exactly what a "Zack Morris phone" is and what it means to sit in a chair "A.C. Slater style." We know that "sike," "not," and "duh" are the three most useful and perhaps most important words in the English language, and we each know where we stand on the great debate between "The Boxcar Children" and "The Babysitters Club." We know how to skip-it and bop-it, and anyone of us who claims to have never twirled a Ribbon Dancer is lying. We waited for the ice cream truck together and tried to get our way by threatening to not invite someone to our next birthday party. We know that "duck duck goose" can be translated to "MC MC Hammer," and we remember our own British invasion - the one that taught us that "if you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends." And we know that the "M" in MTV used to mean something before the network was taken over by reality television. We are old enough to remember Duck Hunt, the bast game on the best system ever, but we are young enough that our hair was never too big, and cell phones and the internet were around at the time we needed them most. "Lord of the Rings" is our "Star Wars" and much to the avail of many, Halo is the new Duck Hunt of our time. We have come from different places and arrived at this moment by different means but today we sit united as we head off into the future. We are a generation, we are a class, a group, forever. We will remember that we were with each other when we think of September 11th, and we will know that our classmates were next to us when President Bush announced the country's plans for an Iraq war. We look back at these times, but now we must look to the future - we're finally ready to "find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting real." We're one step closer to that proverbial place that we keep hearing about; the real world is on the horizon and we're ready to reach it. There are no limits. We're "standing at the edge of tomorrow and it's all up to us how far we go" - just like "Saved by the Bell: The College Years" tells us. On that note, the subject of Zack Morris arises once again, and it's in his immortal words that I conclude, "we're out of here!"