30 Rock, How I Will Miss You

Since it was the debut of 30 Rock that first inspired this blog, it seems only right to post about its end. Before 30 Rock and Liz Lemon, I never knew there were other women out there like me, who loved Star Wars and ham, who often didn't know which part of the dress was "front" and who would much rather stay home and watch "Mad Men" than go to any weird parties where people talked to each other.   What a relief to discover I was not alone.

And then to find out that this show was not just a great piece of news for my self-esteem but also ridiculously inventive, brilliant and breathtakingly funny -- well, how fabulous was that?

I will admit with shame that I skipped a season or two somewhere during 30 Rock's run, when it seemed that the humor had become less clever and inventive and more cold and mean...and not funny. Which was kind of a deal breaker. Call me old fashioned but I like my humor funny.

So I've been quietly compiling this last season on my DVR, wondering if I should even jump back into the pool. But then the reviews for the finale started coming in and fueled by nostalgia, I got up at 5 a.m., put on my earphones and watched it in the bathroom where my sleeping son wouldn't sense me playing with what he has clearly decided is his iPhone. (This is how I watch TV now. It takes me six days to watch a whole Castle between brushing my teeth and flossing.)

All of this is my long, out of practice way of saying the 30 Rock finale was perfect in every way imaginable. There was a Brian Williams joke. Great Tracy Jordan jokes. Pitch perfect satirical tear-down of mommy message boards. Lutz finally got his revenge (Blimpies!), Kenneth proved his immortality and even Jenna was funny, as she finally experienced heartbreak with the removal of her dressing room mirror. But best of all, there was my dear Jack Donaghy's shipboard confession of platonic love -- a speech that managed to be poetic, beautiful, charming and still include the phrase "scale bone mountain." Everything I had loved about 30 Rock was perfectly encapsulated in that one short scene.

I will miss you, 30 Rock. But I promise you this -- I will use the word "hogcock" in a sentence (out loud and not just in my head) at least once this year. It's the least I can do for a show that gave me so much.

The Lost Years, Unrelated To The TV Series or Any Ray Milland Movies

You see that post below that says I moved? I didn't. I mean, I did, but then this crazy series of life events happened to me and my well-meaning attempt at launching a new blog disappeared into the ether. But I've missed blogging and so I'm back. (Yeah, we've all heard that one before. But I'm really going to try.)

And here, just to bring you up to date, are a few highlights of the last couple years.

• I shrank 13 pounds through a simple and healthy regimen that involved wisdom tooth surgery and a heretofore unknown allergy to anesthesia. Two days of vomiting followed by ten days of only eating foods that were mushy. Hell yeah, I could sell that diet to a glossy magazine.
• In related news, I gained five pounds back by eating donuts like a vengeful piranha in a SyFy movie.
• Moved to a new house where we are the hillbillies of the neighborhood. This was a relief after previously living next door to a man whose nickname -- painted on the back of his truck -- was Chainsaw. Still, though, am thinking of removing all the wheels from a Matchbox car and putting it up on tiny blocks in the front yard, just to provoke.
• Wrote a novel. A whole novel with pages that turn and everything. 
• Am now the mother of a wonderful little boy who seems to prefer the Star Wars prequels to the real movies. He is young, though, so there's time to correct his egregious error in judgment. 

So yeah, that's where I'm at. The motherhood thing means I'm guaranteed to be at least two weeks behind on any pop culture event that occurs -- although I KNOW for a fact that Iron Man 3 is coming out this spring. I have a special neuron that twitches with delight whenever one of those babies is nigh. So I'm afraid I won't be bringing you much breaking news, but I'll still try to crack a few jokes and give you meaningful insight on the Sprout channel lineup -- whether you want it or not. (You probably won't.)

I've moved!

Hi there! If you happen to be reading this blog, I just wanted to let you know that I've got a new site called Monstrous Little Voices which is pretty much just more of me rambling. I'm leaving The Park Bench up for as long as I can afford it, but if you want to check out any new oddness from me, please come visit MLV. Thanks, and have a great day!

Remembrance of nerdy things past

Seven years ago, my husband and I moved into our house. The move from our apartment was anything but organized and it amounted, on the last day, to us basically throwing things into the trunks of our cars and then throwing those things into closets that we never opened again.

Now we're doing some deep cleaning, and I'm unearthing items long forgotten, including all of the things that offer irrefutable evidence of the fact that I have, actually, been a nerd my entire life. Among the geek-tastic items I've rediscovered:

+ A Star Trek: The Next Generation tricorder, given to me by equally nerdy friends as a gift on my 21st birthday. So yes, while other 21-year-olds were boozing it up on their big nights, I was scanning the sidewalk for dilithium.

+ A poem written by me, as a sixth grader, entitled "Ode on a Grecian Badger." I'll leave the content of that poem to your collective imaginations. Hint: it involves a badger.

+ A box the size of a Subaru filled with Star Trek novels. I pretended to be a literary snob in high school and college and used to force my then-boyfriend to buy the Star Trek novels for me as I stood in line next to him, holding my Times Literary Supplement beard, and shaking my head in mock disgust at his taste in fiction. Yes, I was a jerk.

+ An equally giant box filled with X-Files magazines, which was apparently my equivalent of porn because it was at the bottom of the closet and buried discretely under bank statements.

+ A slightly smaller box filled with Buffy shooting scripts. I'm not apologizing for that one. Instead, I will simply congratulate myself on not putting on my glasses and spending the rest of the night in a script-reading haze.

+ Pictures of Marina Sirtis and Michael Dorn from the one and only Star Trek convention I ever attended. Now, I'm a fan of the conventions -- you know that about me -- but seriously, that was a scary crowd. Looking at the photo of Marina and Michael, I'm pretty sure they felt the same way. Of course, they could have just been scared of me, what with my filthy X-Files predilections.

+ Speaking of conventions, there's my "MST3K Conventio-Con Expo Fest-a-rama 1994" t-shirt! And my Satellite of Love pin. I wonder how many staff meetings I can wear that pin to before someone realizes what it is. Note to self: I now have the most awesome secret mission EVER.

+ A G-rated "Remington Steele"/"Black Stallion" crossover fan fiction, proudly signed by my nine-year-old self. Seriously. I signed it. What the hell?

And there you have it...The Closet Tour 2010: Full Disclosure. You may now point and mock, if so inclined. Or, you know, if you'd like to buy a case of Star Trek novels, I know someone who can hook you up.

Nimoy and pie! Two delicious things that taste great...no wait, that's creepy.

In honor of Leonard Nimoy, who yesterday announced his retirement from acting, I offer you this link to the Tumblr site "Nimoy Sunset Pie." You know how the title sounds kind of crazy and surreal? The site does not disappoint! For example, we have:

If I could fill my brain with awesome things every day, they would all look like this. I'm trying to think of a way I could get this tramp-stamped on my person.

Also, now I'm hungry...and want to watch "Fringe."

So long, Leonard. You were the most talented and least crazy member of the original "Star Trek" cast, and I always loved you for it. That and you always knew how to fill out a blue velour shirt. Le rowr and prosper, my friend.

Thank you to Ruth for the link!