Iraqi sovereignty finally arrives
Tonight, the Iraqi government will murder Saddam Hussein. Outsiders, including the deposed dictator's legal team, are no longer able to contact him. There will be no television and no press at the hanging. The time and location of his execution will be kept a closely guarded secret up to, and likely well beyond, the actual deed is performed.
He will be killed on the Muslim Holiday of Eid, in violation of Iraqi law, though Iraqi High Tribunal judge Muneer Haddad on Friday assured that "Saddam is not Sunni. And he is not a Shiite. He is not Muslim."-- a discovery that I'm sure surprises you as much as it did me, given the "Butcher of Baghdad's" role in the attack on the World Trade Towers and the Pentagon in 2001.
Iraqi law also dictates that the president of the country sign off on any executions, and President Jalal Talabani opposes capital punishment publicly on principal. Yet his office announced on Friday that he would not have to sign these particular orders for a neck-snapping to commence.
The crimes for which Hussein has been sentenced to die are the ordered murders of 148 Shiite men and boys accused of attacking his motorcade in 1982. A second trial for directing the killing of 50,000 Kurds remains in progress, and will likely continue unimpeded by the hanging of the defendant over the weekend. And a third trial for the bloody suppression of a Shiite uprising in 1991 has yet to even start. The trials are taking place
in Iraq, where victims testify in fear, court evidence is withheld from the global media, and where three defense attorneys were assassinated during the first trial alone. Hussein will die tonight having never been held in U.N. custody.
Also being murdered in secret tonight will be the possibility of public exposure for those who conspired in Saddam Hussein's crimes-- those, for example, in the CIA who installed him in power, those who gave him his first hit list of 10,000 Communist sympathizers, and those who provided him with the chemical and biological weapons used in his crimes and in his regime's war on Iran in the 1980s.
At the hour of execution in Washington, United States President George W. Bush is likely to pause for reflection, gazing upon two of Hussein's confiscated pistols mounted to the wall of his private study off the Oval Office, a pound of the dictator's flesh perhaps soon arriving to complete the set.
High crimes
There was nothing heroic about Gerald Ford's presidential pardon of Richard Nixon. Heroes are those who stand up for the powerless against the powerful, not powerful people acting to protect their own.
It never ceases to amaze me how little confidence in America our public patriots have when push actually comes to shove. The prospect of a former President on trial for his crimes never threatened America's strength. Our justice system affirms democratic ideals by its very pursuit of them. All Ford's pardon accomplished was to send the message to Americans that the powerful rest securely outside of the law. It took from us much of our conviction to demand accountability from our elected leaders. It is certainly no coincidence that the Uday and Qusay of the Nixon and Ford Administrations, Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld, have been able to hijack so much more of our Constitutional resolve in recent years.
We live in a political fantasy world today, thanks in large part to the disillusionment of Watergate. The national news media, as a whole, supports that theory, but they usually chalk it up, collectively, to the "drawn-out" and "demoralizing" televised Congressional hearings over the scandal, as if due process was the Republic's great enemy. The disillusionment, in fact, resulted from lack of closure. There was no punishment for the President's crimes. Nixon was not only allowed to avoid prosecution, but was granted the opportunity to spend his remaining two decades on Earth repairing his public image, his offenses even redeemed for some pundits by the greater sins of his successors.
By the dawn of 2007, all perspective is gone. We obsess over consensual blowjobs, but yawn at torture. Watergate gave way to Iran-Contra, but a decade later, the crooks knew better how to cover their tracks. From Presidential appointees in the Cabinet pardoning their bosses, we moved on to Presidentialial appointees returning political favors to the Executive Branch from the bench of the Supreme Court.
The United States was never "healed" by the pardoning of Richard Nixon. We have more corruption and criminality in government today than ever before. Our wounds of discontent and dis-
connect are open and festering. "Our long national nightmare," as Ford called it, wasn't coming to an end in September of 1974. It was just beginning.
Season's Greetings
This holiday weekend, many thoughts will be with the community of Marshalltown, Iowa. Eighty-nine immigrant workers, employees of the Swift & Co. meatpacking plant, were arrested there last week by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, and are being detained for deportation.
Many of the workers were transported to different states without being granted access to lawyers, according to Senator Tom Harkin's office. Assurances have been made that parents with small children would be released to make arrangements for child care, but "there continues to be reports of numerous single mothers remaining in custody," said Harkin on Tuesday. Michael Chertoff, Secretary of Homeland Security, has promised due process for each of the workers arrested, but "due process" for the current administration might easily mean water torture, electric wiring of the fingertips, and/or naked human pyramids.
The Gestapo-like roundups at six different Swift & Co. plants across the country, resulting in about 1,200 arrests, took place on Friday, the Day of the Virgin Guadalupe, considered sacred on the Christian calendar by many of those now in Immigration custody. "Jesus was not mindful of Social Security numbers, or countries of origin, or of native languages," said the Rev. Barbara Dinnen of Las Americas Comunidad de Fe of the United Methodist Church at a service in Des Moines on Sunday.
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The
"War on Christmas" is officially on. But it's nothing compared to the
"War on Hannukah".
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I'm sure Cecil Travis was a nice man. He was a career .314 hitter with the old Washington Senators who had an American League leading 218 hits in 1941, the same year Joe DiMaggio hit in 56 straight games and Ted Williams batted .406. He died Saturday at the age of 93. The problem is that Hall of Famer Bob Feller, the self-appointed arbiter of global morality, is planning to cast a Veterans' Committee vote for Travis' induction into baseball's hallowed shrine this year, while still vehemently opposing the inductions of all-world players Pete Rose and Mark McGwire.
Travis played parts of only 12 seasons, and collected only 1,544 hits in his career. He was drafted into the Army infantry on December 24th, 1941 and didn't return to the big leagues until the final weeks of the 1945 season-- absent by then two toes lost to frostbite on a battlefield in France, and never again batting above .252. "He was a very good hitter, and he did a very good job in the war," Feller said this week, "If it had not been for the war, he would have had a lifetime average of .325, .335."
Would have. Would have. Whitey Herzog
would have made the Hall of Fame if he had chosen to manage 10 more just mediocre seasons. Dwight Gooden
would have made the Hall of Fame if he hadn't chosen to put a mountain of coke up his nose. I
would have made the Hall of Fame if I had spent more time in the batting cage in high school and less time perfecting my impression of Willie McGee. Pee Wee Herman
would have made the Hall of Fame if he had been born an Alou brother in Bajos de Haina, Dominican Republic during the late 1930s.
Hall of Fame voting is about credentials-- raw numbers and contributions towards the intangibles of victory on the diamond. It's not about electing the goddamn Pope!
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The preceeding would be kind of a sour conclusion to what will likely be my last posting before Christmas. Try
this on instead. (Audio warning)
To all a good night.
5 Best Christmas Songs: A Correction - by Aaron Moeller
A merry Christmas to all of you from the Chris Moeller Archives shadow blogger, Aaron.
In Chris' list of the five greatest Christmas recordings a couple days ago, he inadvertently left out the five best songs and replaced them with five (inferior) ones - how embarrassing for him. Anyway, he asked me to step in and correct things. (Actually, I rather like his list. I'd gladly list his five tunes as my numbers 6 thru 10.) Chris' guilty conscience at excluding him led Chris to mention
Phil Spector in his posting, even though the man wasn't ultimately represented on Chris' list. Here then is the real list, including
two versions originally produced by
the beyond-strange, hermitic, gal-murdering, musical genius, record producer...5. "Blue Christmas" - Elvis Presley, 1957- Lest we forget that Christmas - for many - is the loneliest time of the year. The King offers up a harsh, mournful, real world alternative to the pristine holiday standard. "You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white, But I'll have a blue, blue Christmas". Take that, Bing Crosby!
4. "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" -
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, 1984 - The classic recording of this song is the rare chance to annually hear a concert recording of the greatest live rock 'n roll band in history on your local classic-rock radio station, complete with between-song stage chatter, holiday antics and general tomfoolery. "Clarence, have you been practicing, have you been rehearsing real hard so Santa will bring you a new saxaphone!?" The spirit of Christmas. The spirit of rock 'n roll.
Here's another fun version by the band.
3. "Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home)" - Darlene Love, 1963 -
This one's become a late night TV holiday tradition, thanks to David Letterman. Who would have thought that as Love aged, her voice would only get stronger and sweeter? (And isn't that a beautiful sounding sentence? I'm a damn poet.) Tune in to the Late Show Friday night to hear the 2006 rendition.
2. "Christmas Time is Here" - Vince Guaraldi Trio, 1965 - Chris tried to deny this one in favor of a more upbeat Peanuts holiday tune, and while the entire album is certainly wondrous, accept no substitutes. (Chris will say anything contrary for attention. He doesn't believe half of what he says.) If the other songs on this list are perfect for your holiday party, this one's for the cold, solitary, late night Christmas Eve, looking out a window at the darkened earth and reflecting on another year gone. There's a vocal performance of the song on the same album (performed by a children's choir) that reminds us how bright and hopeful the song's lyrics are, but it only serves to underscore how truly mournful the instrumental performance is. There's a point - at about the four minute mark - that hits me every time. After the song has dissolved into a bass solo, Guaraldi recovers the melody on his piano, playing with such feeling that we're reminded - even beyond Christmas songs - this may well be the saddest song ever recorded.
1. "Sleigh Ride" -
The Ronettes, 1963 - Ding-a-ling-a-ling-a-ding-dong-ding! The sexiest group in rock history, led by That Voice - little Veronica Bennett/Ronnie Spector - ultimately blows all the other rock 'n roll Christmas pretenders out of the water. Starting mildly with holiday chimes, then some bass, then sound effects (the clickity- clack hooves and whinnying of a horse), by the time the hard-charging melody kicks in, we've been barely prepared for the entrance of the ultimate rock and roll voice. Soon the song is driving along, snow is falling, friends are calling, and we're in the throes of rock ecstasy, all the while snuggled up together like birds of a feather. Ahh... that voice. A million other hearts can be heard breaking as - for at least two and a half minutes - she pledges her love and affection to only one. "It's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with YOU". With me? Man oh man, Christ the Savior is born.
A Garden party
There is a tangible racial element to the uproar over the on-court brawl in Saturday night's New York Knicks/Denver Nuggets game. Saying so is not to excuse the players and coaches who played a role in the skirmish that spilled over into the first row of seats at Madison Square Garden (the greatest offense), but this type of brawling is still remarkably common in the other two major professional U.S. team sports, as well as in hockey and soccer. In hockey and football, the fans and the media immediately look the other way, primarily because the participants are so heavily armored for competition that they presumably can't inflict too much damage on each other, but how was this fight in the National Basketball Association any different than those in baseball that take place on at least a semi-monthly basis?
I contend that it's skin color. If two white players wrestle each other to the ground on the baseball diamond and begin to pummel one another, such as the Cubs' Kyle Farnsworth and the Reds' Paul Wilson did in 2003, it's viewed as old-fashioned hardball. The men may not be outrightly praised for what they've done, but it's an admired action by many for its consistency with competitive sporting principles and loyalty to team colors.
The punches thrown in NBA games, where most of the players are black, are never described in print or on broadcast as having been born of team loyalty, or as an only-slightly harmful by-product of admirable competitiveness (i.e. Robin Ventura and Nolan Ryan in baseball in 1992). They're viewed as the residue of "street thug" lifestyles being played out by the players on the court. Predominately white journalists and fans see immaturity and the long-arriving decline of a once-whiter, and -purer game. They see wild animals.
Speculation that Knicks coach Isiah Thomas, an African-American, ordered a hard foul on the Nuggets' Carmelo Anthony, another African-American, has helped to blow up the issue of team culpability, but how many "brushback pitch"-related brawls have been touched off in baseball by a manager's order. The Knicks/Nuggets fight may have involved an abnormally large number of players, but then again maybe it didn't. Baseball fights almost always involve the clearing of benches. It's an unwritten clubhouse rule that you join the fray and stick up for
your side in such an instance
. Pitchers in the outfield bullpens race in from more than 300 feet away to join the circus.
I applaud Commissioner David Stern's judgment, not for the length of the suspensions or the size of the fines issued, but for including the teams, themselves, in the penalties. The franchise general managers were fined $500,000 for the fight as well, for neglecting to teach players to avoid such circumstances, a rare attempt at encouraging corporate responsibility in today's America. "If you continue to employ employees who engage in these actions, your organization is going to have to pay a price, even beyond the suspensions that are involved here," he said.
This is an especially cogent decision if, indeed, the touchstone was a foul ordered by Thomas, who also serves as the Knicks' team president. The punishments should fit the crime, and ultimately I don't care if Carmelo Anthony gets a 15-game suspension, or just a slap on the wrist, but I refuse to categorize this as a "black eye" for professional basketball. Their participants should be allowed the same "spirit of competitiveness" benefit of the doubt that every other sport's athletes receives.
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Before today, I think I've only written about the NBA one other time in two years, but I would like to thank the "NBA Bloggers" group for inviting me to join their organization by e-mail last week. (I declined their offer, though, since I don't really follow the games.) You might guess that with that invitation this month, along with another successful TV Festival and an anonymous comment posted last week by the good people at ANUNREASONABLEMAN.COM, I'm just busting my buttons over the recent results of this blog as we surpass our 2nd anniversary. Just wait until I start outing gay celebrities. Then the sky's the limit.
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Moeller TV Listings 12/18/06-- Iowa Governor and Presidential-hopeful Tom Vilsack appears on "The Daily Show" tonight on Comedy Central. Vilsack won't be getting my vote in 2008 as he's a pawn of the Democratic Leadership Conference (actually he would have to be considered more than a pawn since he's currently the organization's president), but TV's always more fun when there's a chance they might mention your hometown.
The 5 greatest Christmas music recordings of all-time
5. "Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas," Burl Ives, 1965-- He may have provided the voice for the narrating snowman, and
not Kris Kringle, in the television classic "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer," but when I picture Santa Claus, he's
Burl Ives.
4. "All I Want For Christmas Is You," Mariah Carey, 1994-- I'll be forced to apologize to at least one of you that none of Phil Spector's holiday classics made this exclusive list, but this instant Mariah classic was definitely in that same spirit. Don't believe me?
Check out the Ronettes-inspired video.
Nobody ever looked better in a Santa suit, either.
3. "I'll Be Home For Christmas," Bing Crosby, 1943-- This recording was the most requested song at U.S.O. shows in Europe and the South Pacific the year it was released. Songwriters Walter Kern and Kim Gannon authored the tune during the height of the 2nd World War, but there are no fireworks or flag-waving hysterics in
the lyric. It's simply a song about a boy, or a girl, who is tired and wants to get back to where the lovelight gleams.
2. "Christmas Is Coming," Vince Guaraldi, 1966-- "O Tannenbaum" and "Christmas Time Is Here" get more airplay off this
Charlie Brown Christmas record, but when the Peanuts gang
hits the dance floor, this is the jazzy "un-Christmas-like" tune that Schroeder plays. Who would attend a Christmas play that featured nothing but kids dancing, anyway?
1. "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas," Lou Rawls, 1967-- The song dates back to 1944's "Meet Me in St. Louis," but Rawls' epic
recording appeared on a holiday compilation album Mom and Dad had on the shelf when we were growing up. It's the perfect marriage of song and performer-- a warm, soulful ballad sung by one of our grooving-est funkmasters. Rawls puts his vocal stamp on the song throughout ("...From now on our troubles will be out of sight/
Out of sight"). We lost the
velvet-voiced crooner to lung cancer in January, but he'll still be at the Christmas Eve party if we put this record on the phonograph. I can already hear the tinkling of the egg nog glasses.
Unreasonable
"The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore, all progress depends upon the unreasonable man."- George Bernard Shaw, Man and Superman, 1903A head-to-head battle within the 2000 Presidential race is threatening to heat up again, but this time it's your Hollywood elite, not Floridians and Tennesseeans, who hold the electoral outcome in their hands. Al Gore's film "An Inconvenient Truth" is on the 15-finalist short list of the Academy Award's Best Documentary category this year, but also on that list is "An Unreasonable Man," a documentary about the public life of Ralph Nader.
Such as in 2000, Gore is getting all of the media attention. He has promoted his film (as well as his possible '08 presidential candidacy) on both Oprah and Leno, while his film has received a near-nationwide release. Henriette Mantel and Steve Skrovan's "An Unreasonable Man" was a hit at the Sundance Film Festival, was picked up for theatrical and television release by the Independent Film Channel, and has played in eight cities. At a rollicking 150 minutes,
The Onion calls the Nader film "unexpectedly funny" and "moving."
I'm waiting to see both.
A galaxy far, far way
So much for the fleeting magic of the movies. Movie sets built in Tunisia in 1976 for George Lucas' first installment of "Star Wars" are not only still standing,
they're being lived in by poor desert people. Lucas used Tunisia as the backdrop for the desert planet of Alderaan in the series' "Episode IV." The epic "Star Wars Bar" on location in that African country was also immortalized by a
funny bit on "Saturday Night Live" with Bill Murray.
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Star of stage and screen Peter Boyle died yesterday at the age of 71 in New York. Boyle was a standout on a damn good television show called "Everybody Loves Raymond," and also made memorable appearances in "Taxi Driver" and "NYPD Blue," but I'll remember him as the best monster in movie history, better than even the great Karloff. I'm making
this the blog's first ever YouTube link.
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Geek Test! Yes I know, Poindexters, the desert planet on "Star Wars" was actually
Tatooine. You people are dorks.
Greetings from TV Fest, Part V
A hearty thanks to everyone who ventured out to the festival this weekend. It's a hotly contested debate about whether or not we broke the event's attendance record. Thirteen people watched at least one of the 16 programs we aired Saturday and Sunday, and last year's mark was 14, but one of this year's guests was pregnant with twins, so there you have it.
Becky Stockel and Katie Geltz were terribly gracious hosts, and Aaron and I want to thank them, along with all of the other participants who shared their time, their wit and wisdom, and their insatiable curiosities. Please contact your physician immediately if you experience nausea, lightheadedness, or stomach pain- the most common symptoms of food-poisoning.
Aaron and I wrote these "greetings" for this year's program. Search for your used copy this week on Ebay...
2006- December 9th and 10th, Cedar Rapids, IA, 15* people in attendance:
(*- disputed figure)
The 5th Annual Moeller TV Festival- Taking it to the Next Level
by Aaron Moeller
The conversation is still crystal clear in my memory. It was a warm summer's night in 1980 and Chris and I had retired to our bunk beds for the evening. That was the famous summer when curly-headed, corn-fed twin boys throughout the world were sleepless and discontented, wondering who had shot J.R. "Aaron," I can still here Chris whispering to me in the dark. I assumed he was talking in his sleep. Dad has often told the story that Chris would call to me in the night to save him from his nightmares. "I can't sleep. I'm worried about something."
"Oh, don't worry about that," I assured him. "I'm sure you'll outgrow this bedwetting thing."
"No, that's not it," Chris said. "I'm worried that by the time we've reached our fifth festival, we'll have nothing left to present. By then will we be simply going through the motions, mere shadows of our glorious TV Festival hosting past?"
"Chris, you don't need to be concerned," I told him. "Don't you know you never have to worry about television? It will always provide for us. Trust me- there will be enough great television to fill up five hundred
TV festivals."
"Number five," I assured Chris again this summer, "is where legacies are made. This is where we'll solidify the name." Don Knotts spent five seasons as Barney Fife. Shelley Long had her own half-decade run as Diane Chambers. "Moonlighting" aired for exactly five years, as did "Newsradio." "Curb Your Enthusiasm" just reached its fifth season and "60 Minutes" has been so successful that it has run for five years seven different times.
"But how do we make this one unique and original?" Chris asked.
And that's when it hit me. Kicked me right in the walnuts. Like a pissed-off lightning bolt wearing a steel-toed shoe. The idea was staring at me like it had been there all along, but whereas before I was wearing archaic 19th century spectacles, now they were replaced with space age, telescopic x-ray specs (with an optional mind-control setting.) I knew the time had finally arrived. "I've got it! What would happen if... we took it to the next
level?"
Chris looked stunned. He was, I think, as taken aback by the thought as I had been. "Eureka!" Chris finally shouted. "By golly, that's it!" (This is how he talks.)
So that's what we've done. We've taken it to the next level! The Fifth Annual Moeller TV Festival is different, and promises to be unlike any other that has come before, unlike anything you've ever experienced
So don't be shocked if- at some point over the weekend- you find yourself at a place you don't quite recognize. And don't be alarmed if you look around at that new place to which you've been delivered and realize it's an unsettling (yet thrilling!) place. You may just be at a level where you've never been before. The next one!!!
Thanks for indulging us again,
Aaron Moeller
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"Merry Christmas! Out upon Merry Christmas!" bellowed Scrooge, "What's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer. If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!"
And thus began a performance of Noah Wylie's one-man production of "Bah! Humbug! A Scrooge-tinged Christmas" last December at The Golden Apple Dinner Theater in Sarasota. Aaron and I were "opening night-ing" (again!) for this exhaustive and one-of-a-kind revue of the full Dickens musical catalogue, and we marveled at its timeless message for the season. No more let miserly thoughts and deeds dictate our overflowing, year-end social calendars. Unfasten the dragging chains from the tormentors of our sherry-induced hallucinations, and live, damn you, LIVE.
That's why it was such a shock to hear the following words escape from Aaron's mouth two weeks ago: "Maybe we should hold off on the 5th Annual Television Festival until after the holidays." These were words born-- and then too-long breast-fed-- of sheer frustration, products of a series early winter mishaps. His rash of bad luck had begun with the dislocation of a shoulder in a futile reach for the last Furbee on the shelf of the local five-and-dime. It continued with a near-electrocution and castration while attempting to wire a string of icicle lights to his Yule log. His weighted words of doubt and fear hung in the air, in defiance of gravity, like those real top-of-the line saline breast implants. They wafted into the ether, and in the distance... a solitary train whistle. I remained frozen, metaphorically.
A fitfull night's sleep later, and Aaron was astonishingly back in the pink. He said nothing of his reasons for reversing course, and wanting to now pursue a mid-December festival date. But upon awakening, he did ask of me, "What day is it?" December 2nd, I replied. "Have they sold the prized turkey that was displayed at the mid-town poulterer's?" he asked next. Quite confused, I replied that they had not, that the carcass still hung from its hind legs, dripping with blood, in the shop's front window, frightening the local children. "Marvelous," he shouted, "Warm up the motorized carriage and we'll submit an equitable bid for the cadavar."
We drove to the area of town zoned for commerce, stopping numerous times en route that Aaron might engage the street beggars, and pat the village children on their tiny, squishy skulls. Then I recognized the words of Noah Wylie in his rapid and mostly-nonsensical speech, "I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a schoolboy." The dots connected. In the overnight, Aaron had experienced either a Scrooge-like nocturnal fantasy of moral and habit of conduct, or a very vivid and satisfying sex dream, or both. "Make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another 'i', Bob Cratchit!" he said as we reached the butchery. I smiled, knowingly, pushing open the establishment's heavy oaken front door, sturdy from stem to stern.
Chris
Greetings from TV Fest, Part IV
Happy TV Fest Day. Festivities begin at noon. Call 515-249-3457 for directions to location site. (No collect calls, please.)
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Promoted by a blog for the first time last year, "Moeller TV Fest IV: Olympic Heroes" was the greatest festival success to date. The four people who visit this site regularly were added to the previous record for attendance, and no one contracted a foodborne illness at the event for the first time since Moeller TV Fest I. Here are the two program "greetings" Aaron and I wrote for the 2005 extravaganza...
2005- November 5th and 6th, Cedar Rapids, IA, 14 people in attendance:
I don't want to be an alarmist about this, but Chris has cancer. Please DO NOT mention anything to him because he doesn't want me to say anything. We found out from his doctor last week when he had some tests come back positive. Our worst fears were confirmed- they were cancer tests.
I'd rather not divulge the specific details of those horrifying moments when the doctor broke the news- that's what the doctor/patient/twin confidentiality agreement is all about- but believe me that this disease is not something to be taken lightly.
I'm going to be frank about this. We almost cancelled the TV Festival. This sort of news definitely casts a dark cloud over the annual joyous festivities. But Chris has been a real trooper about the whole thing. "The show must go on," he told me. "This is when we need TV the most." I agreed with him. I said let's do this thing and try not to treat it like the tumorous elephant in the room that it is. I only ask you as our friends that you not bring it up. It pains me to drop this bombshell, so let's never again mention you-know-what (cancer).
This sad news is doubly heartbreaking considering the great lineup of shows we have this year. There are so many funny shows and I know we'll all be laughing through our choked-back tears. We even introduced something of a theme this year, with a number of episodes concerning issues of censorship, religion, race and ethnicity. I just want us to be mindful that there are certain taboo subjects too serious to make fun of- like fatal, incurable diseases. And let's face it- TV isn't what it used to be and the Moeller TV Festival has never been so necessary. I flipped around the dial the other night and was saddened to see that the new fall schedule is nothing but reality shows, crime dramas, and hurricane shows. In this world of uncertainty, trauma, tragedy, terrorism, and predictable TV, the role of TV Festivals has never carried more importance.
Please, I beg of you, let's make the most of this. Let's make something of the short time Chris has left. Don't make any jokes about improper things, like any differences we might have, no matter how small. No smart remarks about cancer or other diseases, like the bird flu that is going to wipe out all of us next summer. Although I will be silently scouting for that person among you who I will ask to replace Chris as co-chair of the festival, let's not make that priority one until Monday.
We need to make this festival the best ever! Do it for Chris!!
Aaron Moeller
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A welcome, from Barbara Dixon, director of the Museum of Television & Radio, Beverly Hills, CA:
What Aaron and Chris Moeller have done is truly extraordinary. They have cast the spotlight of Iowa, the Midwest, and the freedom-loving world upon one of our most treasured information and entertainment media. By establishing the first-of-its-kind Television Festival in 2002, and by continuing to polish and improve their event each year, they have applied a kind of "glossy-finish" coat of lacquer to a large and bellowing industry that has become responsible for the employ of hundreds of thousands of hard-working Americans, and whose product simultaneously serves as one of our chief cultural exports.
Aaron and his brother(?) Chris have chosen many of my favorite shows for screening over the years. Who can forget Barbra Streisand's emotional appearance on the Rosie O'Donnell talk show? Or the Joanie Loves Chachi in which Fonzie comes to visit, and tries to help the band land a spot on Twist Fever? Or the Star Search in which Mr. and Mrs. Work-a-day America were introduced to a talented young comedian named Brad Garrett?
These and other such classics will certainly delight and entertain again this year at Aaron's humble home in Cedar Falls, IA. May your journey there be safe, your mind alert throughout, and your time, once again, well spent.
Ms. Barbara Dixon
465 North Beverly Drive,
Beverly Hills, CA
Another Welcome, from Thomas Astin, founder of the Musuem of Sandwiches, Sandusky, Ohio:
What Aaron and Chris Moeller have done is truly extraordinary. By continuing to serve and promote unpretentious "submarine-style" sandwiches at their annual Television Festival, they have sparked unprecedented growth in the commercial sandwich industry. Chain restaurants specializing in such culinary stock have mushroomed across the land since the establishment of their event. You've got the Subway, the Blimpies, the Jimmy Johns, and the Quiznos, to name just four.
We, at the Museum of Sandwiches, suggest that they branch out even more in 2006 to honor such regional sandwich classics as the Cheese Steak of Philadelphia, PA, the Reuben of New York City, the Po' Boy of New Orleans (God bless them,) or the French Dip of, eh... France, I guess.
May your dining experience this weekend be pleasurable and safe, your taste buds satisfied, and your top botton undone by journey's end. Bon Appetit.
Mr. Thomas Astin
Conference room #7
Comfort Inn Sandusky
5909 Milan Rd,
Sandusky, OH
Greetings from TV Fest, Part III
Year 3 was a year of major changes for the TV Festival. I had long vowed to Aaron that the event would leave Des Moines the day that Mary Cheney got pregnant, but Aaron was persistent, and finally he convinced me that Cedar Rapids deserved a chance to host. (It would be a badly-needed shot in the arm for the local economy.) For the life of me now, I can't remember why we also changed the season of the festival from spring to late autumn. I think we were just too lazy to have it organized by May or June. In any case, it made practical sense to move the weekend to one that would be less likely to conflict with people's desires to be out in the fresh air. (Fresh air is like kryptonite to a TV Festival.)
Here are our program "greetings," year 3...
2004- November 13th and 14th, Cedar Rapids, IA, 10 people in attendance:
Our story begins in 1995, when I was fresh out of seminary and my brother was working as a photojournalist with National Geographic. Both being fluent in many native Bantu dialects, Chris and I were asked to take part in a fact-finding mission to Zimbabwe, working to learn more about historical links between the present-day tribes and ancient Lemba tribes from neighboring South Africa that may have occupied the region many years ago.We came to the area with many hypotheses and an eagerness to see how the tribal culture had evolved in the intervening centuries. What we found instead were locals curious about American television, and more specifically, the role that twins played in that history. The change this brought about in the direction of our studies led to our groundbreaking thesis entitled "Behind the Goatee: Representing the Evil Twin in American Television."Being members of an under-represented minority group has not been easy for Chris or myself. Growing up we were forced to acknowledge society's bigotry and ignorance, and nowhere was this more evident than across the television spectrum. Twins were often shown as having comically identical personalities with indistinct individual qualities. Sitcoms were rife with comical situations of characters getting fooled by "wily" twins that were not to be trusted. Twins, long known for their skill as child actors, were also often cast as the same character to avoid giving separate roles to hardworking sets of twins. One particular set of twins, Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, were used, abused, and exploited until they had eating disorders. When my brother and I were appointed co-chairmen of the Twin Anti-Defamation League (they wouldn't even give us our own chairs), we adopted Ashley and Mary-Kate as our spokespersons. They are the Harriet Tubman and Sojourner Truth of our movement and we dedicate the 3rd Annual Moeller TV Festival to them.Thanks for showing up,Aaron Moeller---Dear friends,Did you know that Osama bin Laden hates television? Hates it BIG TIME. Hates everything about it. He doesn't own one, and he won't watch one. He lives in various caves so that he won't come across one by accident. If he ever did come across one, he would probably blow it up with a suitcase bomb or cover it up with a turban or something. I don't know exactly what he would do.He hates sitcoms, reality shows, and crime scene investigation shows. It's very likely he couldn't even distinguish between those types of shows. He probably wouldn't know the difference between "Meet the Press" and Press the Meat. (Remember that old joke?) If he ever saw the shows "Friends" or "According to Jim," he would hate them. I don't know if it's the actors he would hate, or the scripts, or just what exactly. You know what? It doesn't even matter. He would simply hate them... and the television set that projected their images.It might be that when he was young, a television, television show, or television technician harmed him in some way that still causes him to suffer psychologically. Maybe his lack of understanding about it, or lack of exposure to it, brought about feelings of insecurity and/or inadequacy. Maybe he hates it because, under hypnosis, he was ordered by an unethical hypnotist to start hating it.He sometimes appears
on television. He makes speeches on tape and then they show the tape all over the world. If I were one of those television guys, I wouldn't show the tape. He's only using them to help recruit more people to his radical, "jihad"-advocating team.If Osama bin Laden called Aaron and asked if he could come and hang out at this year's TV Festival, I hope Aaron would tell him no. Television festivals are for people who truly like television-- not people who hate it, but still use it as a recruitment tool for their radical, "jihad"-advocating team. Probably, he wouldn't even come because he hates television so much.Chris
Greetings from TV Fest, Part II
This week, I'm publishing for the first time on-line the program "greetings" my brother Aaron and I have written for the first five Moeller TV Festivals. "Cinco de Moeller" will be held this Saturday and Sunday in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Tonight, our sophomore efforts:
2003- May 17th and 18th, Des Moines, IA, 7 people in attendance:
Welcome! Glad you made it. How was your drive? Did you make good time? Did you take a left on Cottage Grove, or come down High Street? I should have said something about the construction. ML King has been torn up since last spring. Oh well, you're here now. That's what's important. You're looking good.. you know, buff. Like you've been working out. I hear that. Can I take your coat? Why the hell are you wearing a coat? It's the middle of May.It seems like only a year ago that we all gathered here for the first ever Moeller Television Festival. In actuality, it's only been 330 days. THE LONGEST 330 DAYS OF MY LIFE! Am I right, people?You could have cut the tension with a knife around here during the last month. We've struggled with the programming schedule, the menu, the place settings; and the task was made that much tougher by the new city zoning restrictions. It was Aaron's therapist that got the ball rolling. He suggested the first show. Or, rather, he helped Aaron "recover" the first show. The rest fell into place. We think we've come up with a product that will make last year's festival look like a transsexual rodeo. We hope you'll agree.I meant what I said before. Glad you made it.ChrisTHE CHRIS MOELLER APARTMENT RULES OF ETIQUETTERule #1: And this is number one for a reason. Don't touch Chris' ceramic bunnies. They're not yours.Rule #2: While you're here, do not refer to this event as a "hoop-dee-doo," or a "foo-fer-all." It's demeaning to the process.Rule #3: Last year's leg wrestling competition was a happy accident and never designed to become festival tradition.Rule #4: Ignore the protesters outside. Chris' apartment is a private residence, and Chris alone reserves the right to exclude entire nationalities of his choosing.Rule #5: I will cry during the Johnny Carson/Bette Midler scene. Don't tease me.Rule #6: This program is not a coaster.---MOELLER TV FESTIVAL: THE TRUE HOLLYWOOD STORYTV Festival was born a coal miner's daughter, in a cabin on a hill in Butcher Holler. They were poor but they had love. That's the one thing that Daddy made sure of. He shoveled coal to make a poor man's dollar.After those early years of poverty and hardship, a still youthful TV Festival suffered the inevitable fate of many Kentucky-born children, when she was sold into white slavery. She was purchased (and later formally adopted) by a gentleman farmer, Tom Moeller of Newhall, Iowa. Like Tom's twin boys, Aaron and Chris, the (now-named) Moeller TV Festival was raised in a relatively happy home, despite being strict Scientologists. Their home was always filled with the laughter of family and friends as the three Moeller children frequently enjoyed the company of classmates, who could be counted on to take full advantage of the Moeller family swimming pool, always under the guise of legitimate friendship. However, it was ultimately the family television that held the children in its cathode-tube sway.At the age of 18, the twins opted to waste four of their few remaining years on this planet by attending state universities, but TV Festival decided to make her way to Hollywood, where she had long dreamed of becoming an actress and meeting her hero, Kirstie Alley. But life in the California sunshine wasn't easy for an attractive young festival, who soon found herself a cog in the Hollywood star-making machine.Temptations were everywhere. A childhood fascination with Stupid Pet Tricks soon turned into a dangerous gambling addiction. And it was on one of her frequent trips to Las Vegas that she would first gain notoriety. There she met and fell in love with the high profile Sundance Film Festival. It was a tempestuous relationship that would bring her love, marriage, recognition, fame, then ultimately, ruin. They divorced in 1998 with both parties citing irreconcilable differences, though the tabloids put the blame elsewhere-- an alleged TV Festival lesbian affair with Anne Heche. What no one argues though is that by the Festivus Holiday of 1999, TV Festival had hit rock bottom, when she was discovered on the streets of Tijuana, clearly confused and mumbling incoherently about the under-appreciated comic chemistry between Herb Tarlek and Les Nessman.It was then that her adopted family was contacted and an intervention was planned. Brother Aaron, already in town to follow up on some anonymous letters he had written to Jennifer Love Hewitt, convinced her to return to the relative stability of the Moeller's Iowa life.Today, she lives quietly and sober, content to be a big fish in a little pond. She regrets nothing, except (obviously) the thing with Anne Heche. She welcomes you today to the 2nd Annual.Robert Blake, Anne Heche... Aaron's references are timeless. Tomorrow, the epic move to Cedar Rapids, and the end of the "summer" festival.
Greetings from TV Fest, Part I
Each year for the Moeller Television Festival (December 9th and 10th, 2006 in Cedar Rapids, IA-- call 515-249-3457 to RSVP and for directions), Aaron and I take the time to each write a greeting for the festival's colorless program. Aaron slaves over his for months and months, and I knock mine out in about 20 minutes, but we both take a bit of pride in the results.
The rest of this week on the blog, I'll be sharing the greetings we've written for the first 5 years. It's a way to give those of you who'll be attending this weekend a ramp-up for Saturday, while also assuring that I get one more week out of this blog without having to come up with a new idea. Tonight, it's "Greetings" from the inaugural celebration of 2002. Enjoy.
2002 - June 22 & 23, Des Moines, IA, 6 people in attendance:
Welcome fellow Trekkies!The planning is finally complete. The guest speakers have committed. The hectic promotional tour has ended, as has the initial rush of intense media scrutiny, and we are left, finally, with only the hours of memorable television.My brother and I have gone deep into the vaults. We've unearthed some great material from our vast video libraries and soon it will be released like a kind, welcoming virus into the world. In retrospect, this festival began its gestation period years ago. I can recall one particularly warm, humid day in the womb when a still unnamed Chris turned to me and said, "You know, Boss, from in here, Baretta 'sounds' like a great show and Blake certainly deserved his Emmy, but I suspect he's destined for even greater fame. Or perhaps even, infamy." Good call, Chris!!Sure, there were debates along the way. For example, if it hadn't been for my veto, this festival would consist of two episodes each of "Kate and Allie" and "Happy Days," and for no other reason than Chris has never completely gotten over his boyhood crushes on either Kate or Potsy.But ultimately, I need to thank Chris for this weekend. Not just for the years of TV companionship, but his hospitality as well. When the planning and scheduling began, we had numerous options for a festival site. We looked into renting a screening room at the Museum of Television and Radio in New York City, and later, considered booking a conference room at Steve Wynn's fabulous Bellagio Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas (thanks for the invite, Steve-O), but we eventually decided the most appropriate site for the festival would be Chris' living room. Iowa is, after all, the home state of TV's beloved Radar O'Reilly. (Not to mention, the future birthplace of Captain James T. Kirk.)So Chris, thank you. You give and give and give of yourself and ask so little in return. Although your furniture (and the decor in general) is lacking. But that's neither here nor there.Sit back and enjoy. We'll laugh. We'll perhaps cry. We'll be wonderfully entertained. We'll stretch our legs occasionally while remaining respectful of our neighbors. We'll enjoy food, drink, and the camaraderie of fellow television fans. But I get the remote.Your TV pal, Aaron Tiberius Moeller---When the National Council of Churches first approached us with this project more than a decade ago, we were skeptical. After a half-day of meditation and a carb-heavy buffet lunch, our skepticism had been replaced with concern. How do you summarize a lifetime of television viewing into a standard, albeit seemingly endless, weekend?All Americans, and freedom-loving peoples around the word, have been warmed by the comforting glow of the TV sometime in their lives. Typical is this comment from former U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services, Donna Shalala, while still teaching political science at Bernard Baruch College in New York City in 1971, "I watch television. Most people do."My brother and I have always felt uniquely "warmed" by the glow. The television was always close by-- a surrogate parent, naturally; but more accurately, he was crotchety old "Uncle Telly." This bond was strengthened in the mid-'80s when Aaron landed the role of Kirk Cameron's dim-witted, but well-meaning pal Richard "Boner" Stabone in the popular ABC-TV sitcom "Growing Pains." Yes, he would quickly tell you, the cast was as close off-camera as on. You can't fake that kind of magic. We think you'll agree.The first Moeller Television Festival is dedicated to our father, Tom "Starsky" Moeller, who allowed his sons to watch television while doing their homework. Of course, this is also the reason we're both stuck in low-paying, dead-end jobs with no ambition for anything beyond organizing television "festivals" that cost us money rather than make it. Enjoy the sandwiches!Try them with mayonnaise, ChrisFriday's Schedule7am-6pm-- Moeller Celebrity Pro-Am Golf TournamentTerrace Hills Golf Course, Altoona, IowaBest Shot Format. Advance payment: $75 per golfer6pm-10pm-- Cocktails. Official "meet and greet." (Cocktails not provided.)Oh, how young we were then. Tiny babies really. If we could do it over again, I would rewrite the part where it sounds like Dad was doing our homework while we watched TV.
We were doing the homework. We just watched TV while we did it.
Axlpalooza
One of the significant differences between my musical idol, Frank Sinatra, and Axl Rose of "Guns 'n Roses" is that FS never kept an audience waiting four and a half hours for a show.
That's what Rose did Saturday night in Ames, IA, nearly bringing drunken fans to blows in the interim down on the general-admission floor of Hilton Coliseum.
There was no wasting time with the Chairman of the Board. He leapt to the stage as soon as his opening act was finished, sometimes even before they knew they were. Hit your marks, give the people what they paid for, and then enjoy a nice dinner. Phil Hartman had some fun with the whole persona, but I always found the character trait of impatience in a performer to be quite appealing, and vastly underappreciated. That impatience was in the music, too. It manifested itself as restlessness and longing in the saloon songs, and it was a catalyst behind the swingers. When you've got 20 guys behind you in the pit ready to go, it's time to go.
Just something I thought of when I read that linked article above.
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Major League Baseball's idea for an annual "Civil Rights Game," to be played in Memphis at AutoZone Park near the site of Martin Luther King Jr.'s assassination, is a great idea. And in the inaugural exhibition on March 31st, won't the Cleveland Indians' "Chief Wahoo" emblem be a welcome addition to the proceedings?
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Moeller TV Fest Countdown (4 days)- This Day in TV History: On December 5th, 1974, the final episode of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" airs on British television. No one ever heard or spoke of the series again.
