All posts by BraddonM

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We Wish You – Nothing!

Santa weighs inYes, I know it’s only November, but I thought it would good to get a jump on the whole “Merry Christmas” controversy that rears its bearded white head every winter.

Opinion columns and letters-to-the-editor of local newspapers will soon be replete with commentary by disheartened Christians, lamenting that public displays of “Christmas Cheer” are no longer politically correct. They will cite examples of schools not being allowed to exhibit Christmas banners or businesses prohibiting their clerks from offering Christmas greetings to their customers.

Wishing anyone and everyone a “Merry Christmas” is their birthright, they believe, and – dagnabit — no one’s gonna stop ‘em.

As a Jewish-American, I am slightly more-than-amused when a stranger greets me with “Merry Christmas,” and only slightly less-than-amused when someone who positively knows I’m Jewish wishes me a “Happy-Not-My-Holiday” — but even then, I just laugh it off.

What troubles me more is the significance behind all that wishing. It reflects a real-world naiveté — dare I say ignorance — to assume that everyone is a fellow Christian, or worse — that the United States is a Christian nation and that “Merry Christmas” is a universal American greeting. We are not and it is not.

Greeting everyone you meet with “Merry Christmas” makes as much sense as greeting everyone you meet with “Happy Birthday.”

To a non-Christian, you could just as soon wish a “Pleasant Hat Day,” as it would have the same impact.

As Americans, of course, we may choose to wish whatever to whomever. Even brainless speech is protected by the Constitution.

There are those folks who reply, “But, we don’t mind if you wish us a ‘Happy Hanukkah,’” as if their acceptance of this greeting exemplifies their tolerance and understanding of the Jewish experience.

I have no desire to greet anyone with “Happy Hanukkah” — or “Happy Pesach” or “Good Yontif” — unless they’re Jewish.

Moreover, most in the gentile world haven’t even a clue as to what Hanukkah is about (someone actually asked me once if it celebrated the “birth of our savior.”)  Yet despite widepsread ingorance of the Maccabean Revolt in 168 BCE — which arguably paved the road for the religious freedoms we enjoy today —  the rest of us are force-fed the story of Jesus everywhere we look. Non-Christians are subjugated to annual Nativity scenes, daily proselytizing and a national Christmas tree.

To gripe about losing Christmas to political correctness is disingenuous.

I have no problem with Christmas. I enjoy sharing in my friends’ celebration of their holiday and look forward to attending parties where the kissing of strangers is encouraged.

When December rolls around, if I know for certain that someone celebrates Christmas, I will wish them a merry one — and if it happens to be the anniversary of the day they purchased their lovely fedora, I will offer up a “Pleasant Hat Day,” as well.

So go ahead, offer a hearty “Merry Christmas” to everyone you meet. It’s your right – your constitutionally protected freedom of expression – to do so.

But don’t be surprised if some of us respond by exercising our consitutionally protected freedom to roll our eyes and sigh.

In case anyone asks,

Braddon

The Death of Television, Part Two

Signs that Broadcast Network Television is disintegrating are abundantly evident.  Prime time ad revenues for the broadcast networks dropped 15% in the last quarter or 2008, according to TargetCast, with CBS experiencing the deepest decline.  In 2009, ad revenues continue to decline. In August, one headline revealed:  TV networks cut ‘upfront’ prices for ad time but still sell less.

In an article entitled “Ten Big Companies That Are Veering Toward Bankruptcy” (The Business Insider, Sept. 18, 2009), CBS was listed as number 7, right behind Goodyear.

Although the authors of the article weren’t sure whether CBS’s “weak advertising and falling license fees [which] have sent CBS’s earnings off a cliff in 2009,” were due to a)  a cyclical trend;  or b) the fact that “traditional TV is dying” — two possibilities which are worlds apart —  the answer is obvious.

If you were an advertiser, would you rather spend a) $300,000 to air one 30-second prime-time spot that will never reach its intended  20 million viewers, because they will be fast-forwarding past them on their DVRs, or b) $30,000  to reach 20 million Internet users, who can click on your ad to get more information, can bookmark your ad if they want to come back to it, and can actually order your product online? (While Internet users are able to turn your ad off if they find it intrusive at the moment, they continue to see your product off to the side and can turn the ad back on at their will.)

Choosing “b” for both of the preceding paragraphs will put you on the correct side of history. 

That the television industry, itself, is in a state of sheer panic was evidenced on the 61st Primetime Emmy Awards telecast on Sunday, September 20, 2009, where presenters playfully mocked the presumption that broadcast network TV will meet its demise. 

During her presentation of Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy series, Julia Louis-Dreyfus quipped,  “Amy [Poehler] and I are proud to be presenting on the last official year of network television.” The audience responded with laughter, as the truth behind their mass denial was revealed.

Host Neil Patrick Harris performed in a sketch where he played an evil scientist declaring that audiences preferred watching shows presented in a tiny aspect ratio on on a tiny computer monitor than on their huge flat screen televisions, and that they enjoyed waiting for a computer to “buffer” while viewing an Internet video stream.

The sarcasm is lost, of course, because the writers of the sketch – and presumably the top network executives – don’t get it.  The technology is here.  The same satellites or cables that bring you Two and a Half Men will bring you the Yahoo! search page you’ve grown accustomed to on your PC. The progamming that audiences will be watching in a year (or two) from now will look just as beauitful in high definition and play just as smoothly as an episode of House.

Soon, when you press the “on” button of your Samsung, hi-def 60” TV, you will be able to select from anything you can get on the Internet today, including high-end series, dramas, comedies, musicals, classic films, performaces by emerging artists.  These prgorams will not be presented or produced by ABC, CBS and NBC, but from companies like Google, Netflix, JibJab, Noisivision and iTunes, to name a few.

Like a star getting sucked into a black hole, Broadcast Network Television – long conisdered the center of the entertainment galaxy — is collapsing under its own gravity, taking with it advertisers and everything within its vicinty, while the Internet — formed from the vast nebula of technology — has emerged as the new star, with millions of opportunites for information and entertainment orbiting it.

Note the use of the term “Broadcast” Network Television to distinguish it from “Cable” Network Television, whose models of doing business may very well allow HBO and SHOWTIME to survive in the era of convergence, and perhaps even thrive. It all boils down to two areas where they beat their Broadcast cousins handily: a) their current usage of the Interent as an interactive tool to complement and enhance their programming; and b) their ablity to produce high-quality shows on smaller, tighter budgets.

TO BE CONTINUED

Jumping the Shark

“Charlie” had been trying to break into the television market for years.  An accountant at a small entertainment CPA firm, he often found himself resentful of the successful writer clients who weren’t half as talented as he was.  Each evening he would spend typing out his spec scripts and sending them off, hoping that one day — one day — he might get his break.

When he first came to see me, he seemed distraught and displayed signs of acute anxiety.  He emptied a bag of scripts onto the table and plopped himself down on the sofa.

“I’ve been at this game for years,” he lamented.  “I’ve been working at it really hard and I just can’t get my break.”

“Why do you think that is?” I asked.

“I haven’t a clue.”

“That’s quite a stack of scripts.  You must write a lot.”

“Every day.”  He picked up one from the top of the stack.  “I just finished the best spec script I’ve ever written.”

“Good for you,” I replied.  “What is it?”

“It’s a Gilligan’s Island.”

At first I thought he was pulling my leg, but he seemed to take genuine pride in his accomplishment.  Nevertheless, I prodded him.

“Did you say Gilligan’s Island?”

He held the script out.  Sure enough, on the cover were the words: “Gilligan’s Island,” with the patient’s name centered carefully underneath. “I don’t want to give away the plot, but basically, the castaways are just about to be rescued and Gilligan does something to screw it up.”

I looked at Charlie as if he had just landed on earth from the Heaven’s Gate UFO.  “Now, I don’t profess to know everything about the television business, but is it wise to write a spec script for a thirty year old show?”

“No one cares.  They only want to see how well you can write the characters.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“One of those seminars.  You know, ‘How to Break into Sitcoms.’  And if I may be unmodest for a moment, I really aced the characters.  You can really visualize them saying these lines.  Except for Mary Ann.  I really had trouble getting into her character, so I killed her off.  And the Howells catch a virus that renders them temporarily mute, so I didn’t have to write too much dialogue for them.”

“I see.  What else have you written?”

“Well, I’m just finishing up an I Love Lucy.”

“Of course you are.”

“Man, it’s so funny.  Ricky brings home a new laptop computer, and he won’t let Lucy use it.  Meanwhile, Fred secretly starts a website for swinging couples.  I still need an ending.”

I turned to him and spoke in a soothing, but direct manner.  “Perhaps if you tried writing for a more contemporary program…”

He thought for a moment.  “I have a Mad About You.”

Okay, I thought.  That show was current within the last two decades.  Now we’re getting somewhere. “Tell me about it.”

“The Paul Reiser character gets hit by a car and dies, and Jamie marries somebody else — another comedian.  I’m thinking Paul Rodriguez; he hasn’t done a sitcom for awhile and we can bring in the whole ethnic element.”

“You think it’s wise to change the format of the show like that?”

“Who’s changing the format?” he protested.  “I’m just replacing one of the characters.  It’s still the same format. A married couple.  Only now, one of them’s Hispanic, which opens the door to a wider array of amusing situations.  An I Love Lucy for the nineties.  What do you think?”

I hesitated to ask, but knew, if I were to be effective at all in his treatment, I must continue the inquiry.  I took a deep breath, braced myself and inquired:  “What else do you have?”

“Here’s an episode of Friends.  It’s fifty years in the future, they’re all old and kind of saggy, but they live in the same building.”

“But the actors in the show are all young people.”

“Aha!” he retorted, bouncing up and down on the sofa like a child.  “Characters in television age faster than in real life.”

“So, would you get older actors to play the parts, or would you put the cast in old age make-up?”

“Neither.  You wait fifty years before filming the episode.  That way, you can use the original cast.  Save money on auditioning new people.”

“What else do you have?”

“I wrote a spec Dateline.”

“That’s a news program.”

“They still need scripts.  In this episode, Jane Pauley banters with Sam Donaldson.”

“He’s on a different network.”

“Not in my episode.  In my episode, all the networks have merged into one huge conglomerate.  You think it’s okay that I have her speaking with a French accent?”

“Jane Pauley doesn’t have a French accent.”

“Then they’ll have to cast someone who does.  Maybe Robin Williams.  He can do Jane Pauley in a French accent.  Man, I gotta write that down.”   He scribbled a few notes onto the script cover.   Fortunately, our time was up.

 “I think our time is up,” I told him.  “I’ll see you next Thursday.”

“You think you can help me?  You think I’ll ever break into television?”

“Given time, anything’s possible.”

“Thanks, Doc.”  He loaded up his scripts and departed.

A few moments later, I realized he had accidentally left his Gilligan’s Island script.  Was it really an accident?  Or was he seeking my approval of his talent?  I picked up the document and began reading.  Halfway through the story, Mary Ann was killed off, the Howells contracted a virus that rendered them mute and Gilligan did something to screw up their chances of being rescued.  To be honest, it was a very well-written, humorous script.  And yes, I could visualize the characters saying these lines.  There was the Skipper, rotund and chipper, slapping his hat at Gilligan’s whimsical antics.  I could hear the professor, babbling on about some pseudo-scientific discovery.  Ginger was as sexy as ever, and Mary Ann — alas, poor Mary Ann.

The kid had talent, no doubt, yet something prevented him from attaining his goal.  Often, in these cases, it is a matter of self-sabotage.  The client subconsciously makes decisions that are completely counter to his goals.  In this instance, it wasn’t clear at all, but given time and a continuation of therapy, I am confident we can unlock the reasons together, and Charlie can lead a fulfilling life as a staff writer.

About Miracles

Miracles come in assorted varieties.  They don’t have to be huge “Parting of the Red Sea” spectacles or “walking-away-from-a-car-crash-unscathed” events.  Tiny miracles surround us everywhere.  Most of them are translucent; you can’t see them with your eyes, but if you reach out, you can touch them and feel them and they will affect your life in ways never before imagined.

Just look into your baby’s eyes when you take him out of the crib in the morning.  As sunlight washes his curious face, he expresses his approval with a smile, delighting in the bountiful opportunities  of a new day. There is nothing bad or commonplace in the world; only wondrous gadgets of imagination —  to be tugged upon and pulled and tasted — and his mommy and daddy, who are always there, holding him and comforting him and helping him navigate his little universe.

The day is joyful and wondrously amazing, replete with new surprises, smells, tastes, sights and sounds, yet he chooses to begin his morning by doing something familiar and comforting — touching his hand to your face.  You have become part of his day, part of the adventure, part of the miracle.

As he amuses himself by banging two plastic bowls together, you think that someday he’ll want a bright red car with big chrome wheels.  But right now, those two bowls bring him as much enjoyment as a person could know.   How odd it is that watching him makes you cry.   

In that instant, you discover the brilliant shades and hues that parenthood has added to your palette, and then it hits you:  from this day forward, your life will be comprised of one suprising new color after another.

You rock your baby to sleep at night.  He resists and fusses, but that is only because he doesn’t want the day to end.  Surely he might miss something if he shuts his eyes too soon.   He reminds you there is more to see, more to learn, every day.

The moment is unique; it will never be repeated, but the miracle remains forever, in your memories and in the moistness of a teardrop.

— Braddon

The Death of Network Television, Part One

Next year will be end of the major broadcast television networks.  They will meet their demise with no fanfare, no melancholy send-offs, no bittersweet memorial at the Staples Center.  Their influence over contemporary culture will cease to exist, save as foggy memories in textbooks recounting the history of electronic media.

While that’s bad news for network executives, who for seventy years have arrogantly dictated which shows their ever-dwindling audiences can watch and at what time of day they can watch them, it’s great news for everyone else.

The death of the networks and their antiquated programming matrices will be a renaissance for electronically delivered entertainment and a golden opportunity for advertisers, as the difference between traditional television and your Internet-connected computer become virtually indistinguishable.

Viewers will keep their TVs, but instead of being spoon-fed from a limited variety of shows at predetermined times from the Big Three Networks, they will dine on an endless spectrum of news and entertainment from thousands of producers around the world, via the Internet, conveniently viewing them at a time of their choosing.

This shift from Network Television to Internet Television is referred to as “convergence,” and there’s not much disagreement that it’s coming.

What executives don’t seem to grasp is how quickly it’s all going to converge.  It won’t happen in ten years; it won’t happen in five years. It will be happening by the end of next year.

As I write this, it’s August 2009.  My prediction is that by next summer it will be all over for the big guys.  The 2009-2010 television season will be the last one that we recognize as such.  (Okay, maybe they’ll manage to stay on life support for an additional year, but it’ll be in a vegetative state, in which case they will be declared dead in 2011.)

So, if a year from now network television ceases to exist, what does that mean for ABC, NBC and CBS (yes, and Fox – although after 20 years or so, it’s still hard for me to think of them as a major network).  In short, they will be out of business, and their parent companies will suffer immeasurable losses.

The Big Three Networks are all owned by major studios.  Disney owns ABC, Universal owns NBC and VIACOM owns CBS.  Corporate directors should start thinking about liquidating these assets now, or risk losing everything for their stockholders.  And don’t expect Congress or President Obama to bail them out. Unlike the auto industry, there will likely be more jobs created without them.

Some contend that the Big Three will still exist, but in a different form.  Perhaps, but that difference will have to be radical and immediate, two adjectives I don’t suspect have ever been attributed to network television without being followed by a rim shot. In their current configuration, it seems impractical for networks to compete viably with independent Internet producers, who are leveling out the entertainment playing field every day.

TO BE CONTINUED