The 2007 Hick Chic Grammy Report!

I do love the Grammy Awards, even if it's bloated, self congratulatory and boring! I also love all of you, my readers, my blog buddies! I endure the sweet torture so that you don't have to. I'm takin' it for our team, okay?

Okay first of all, I missed the Police. I was talking to my mom on the phone about my Dad avoiding frostbite while snowblowing with the tractor and didn't get to the TV on time. I have mixed feelings about this. While my Dad's fingers and toes are worth more than a Police reunion performance, I was curious, and yet hesitant, because what if they totally sucked?




And the day after I'm still confused because one report stated a standing ovation, while another claimed that it was so lame nobody stood up. Whatever. I missed it, and Dad's got new mitts.



Next, Joan Baez introduced the Dixie Chicks.
I'm gonna come right out and say it- she looks great. Of course she's got wrinkles- how old is she? She righteously deserves them- and look how fit she is, and her beautiful silver hair.

As for the Dixie Chicks, the only thing I didn't like about this performance was the new Natalie Maines Serious Artist Hairdo.

Otherwise I thought the whole thing was very heartfelt, which can be difficult when surrounded by a huge string section and 40 guitar players. I'd love to see this with fewer musicians but they done good.

May I say that Prince is the coolest? Am I ready to admit that I really dug him in the 80s? Listening to my Purple Rain cassette while staring out the window at the barn in a snowstorm?
This man is so cool that IF he were to sweat it would be drops of liquid menthol.

Beyonce. Ah, Beyonce. So physically perfect. So abundantly talented. So insanely gorgeous. I'm so tired of her.
I really am. I'm sorry. This was her "Jennifer Who" performance and while it was very good I couldn't help but notice the amount of reverb on her mic. An attempt at more magnificence?? Ever since she lost weight I hardly recognize her. At least she's not white and blonde, because then she'd really blend, and it's just not right for Beyonce to blend.

Mary J Blige. The only woman who can make Bono insignificant.
She thanks God and actually sounds like she means it! She squeezed in more Thank Yous than anybody else and reeled off at least 50 just during the Wrap It Up music! I think she had a really good night and well deserved.


Shakira. Gawd. Listen, I dig her action- I have great respect for her honest hips and wish I could do that. I could, once, back when I didn't actually have hips yet. If I keep up my Pilates maybe I'll attempt it when nobody's looking...and I do have hair like that every time it rains...
...but WHO the HELL gave this girl permission to sing? Yeeeesh! Does she need her sinuses unblocked? This is the second awards show that I turned the volume down on her.


Tony Bennett and Stevie Wonder. Stevie does not know what he's wearing, so I'll not say nasty things about his clothes. Tony thanked Target. He knows where his bread gets buttered. He's been doing this thing long enough to know.

My daughter loves Tony Bennett and I'm okay with that.

That Timberlake kid, who sat with his mom and was the only other person who spent more time onstage than Mary J?
Y'know, he's pretty talented. He should stick with this music thing. He could really do something with it.

The Corrine Bailey Rae/ John Legend/ John Mayer thing would have been lovely if it weren't for the distortion. I don't know. Being married to a recording engineer has ruined me. I can't listen to that without thinking that these guys are supposed to know how to avoid that. It's the friggin Grammys. Hire guys who know what the f**k they're doing. I know it's a big production but geez. Anyways. Three very talented people who sounded great together. I wish I could have found a picture of that performance.

Speaking of John Mayer... he cracks me up. He's starting to look a little bit Edward Scissorhands with the hair and the paleness. I like it, because I love Edward forever. But he's so funny! He either looks totally smoked up...
or in a strange combination of ecstasy and agony...

and I really hope he was joking on the red carpet about the tux being for his wedding in May. That's just wrong.

Gnarls Barkley proved that a good song can be totally screwed with and still work. They covered their own song.
This guy is huge and has an amazing voice and a hell of a lot of white teeth. My daughter thinks he's awesome.

Ludacris thanked Oprah. I had no idea she was a big hip hop fan. What the heck do I know...and why did he keep his shades on? That's so messed up rock star. Stop that. Only Prince can do that.

I was rather confused that Dixie Chicks won Best Country Album because I have this album, and it ain't country. In fact I think it's a crap album. I know it's hard to separate it from that political and personal controversy, but on a strictly musical basis, it's crap. I said it when it first came out and I'm saying it now. I hope after this, they'll go back and find some hot writers to collaborate with, and remember the concept of harmonies as opposed to unison singalongs, and come up with some better lyrics.

I mean, come on. "I'm still mad as hell and I don't have time to go round and round and round." How long does it realistically take to go round and round and round? I can do it right now.

See? I just went round and round and round and you hardly even noticed. No more lazy lyrics! Leave that to the interchangeable pop airheads! You are the freakin Dixie Chicks! Don't shut up, okay? But please, SING! I want to love them again, I really do.But you know, they look happy, and I'm very happy for them, because this has got to feel pretty damn good.

Speaking of country music... Here's little Carrie Underwood, who clearly benefitted from the grind of that show she was on, and is developing a perfect Country Singer Big Blonde Hairdo.

I really liked this Bob Wills tribute. It was pure Old Country and lots of fun. But I'd like to fire the soundman.

I don't like the Eagles. This surprises many people, me included. I hate Hotel California and always will. So Rascal Flatts turns in a better performance than the original and confirms to me that Rascal Flatts are the Best Cover Band Ever. Very professional. Note perfect and boring. Moving on.

I was really glad to see Jazz saxophonist Ornette Coleman getting some Recognish before he croaks. They gave out like, 500 Lifetime Achievement awards, mostly to deceased folks.

I must also say that Lionel Richie sang my least favourite song of his (it's right up there with Hotel California) but he looks and sounds great.

I'm not sure what this was.
Chris Brown is a hell of a mover and even had a little trampoline routine which was very cool but if there was music involved I missed it because I was too busy watching his feet.

Christina Aguilera. She is awesome. Her hair looks fried but man, she is electric.

This is from her performance of "It's a Man's World" and I was speechless. Everyone else can just shu'up.






Which leads me to the James Brown tribute. How would they honour The Godfather of Soul? I thought this was perfect.
The empty cape draped over the mic stand made me weep.

We'll let his body of work speak for him. Nobody else can speak for him anyways.


But then...James Blunt. Why, why, why? He's one of the few English men who does not turn my crank. Make him stop.



Red Hot Chili Peppers closed the show with the kind of beautiful mess that only they can pull off.


Most people will tell you that they sucked but I love them irrationally so I'm going to tell you that they were interesting. Frusciante has shorn his crazy long hair and sprouted a full beard, making it even harder for me to recognize him and attempt eye contact. Flea was dressed-in-yellow-she-says-hello-come-sit-next-to-me-ya-fine-fellow and yes he did bust a move. Chad Smith is awesome and must often wonder how a normal guy like him who looks like your mechanic ended up with those three characters. Anthony...ah Anthony... he has the worst pitch and most charisma since David Lee Roth.


After their acceptance speech, in which Chad challenged all watchers to go start a rock band, I am gonna go start me a rock band. We'll call ourselves the Punk Ass Cowpokes and it'll be a country-punk-heavy metal-blues band. Who's in????

So it was a long excruciating ordeal and I love-hated it as much as I always do. Here are a few more details to wrap it all up:

Impending Worry of the Evening: Scarlett Johanson is apparently making a record.
Listen, I totally dig her. I think she's gorgeous, I have enjoyed her dramatic stylings in several movies, and she has a wonderful raspy speaking voice. But do we really need another singing movie star? Or an acting singing star? And does she really need to have Jessica-Avril-Ashlee-Hilary's hair? Is this necessary???

Unlikely rock stars of the evening: Neil Portnow, the President of the Acadamy, who always does an awesome music biz pep talk that makes me wanna run right out and buy 50 saxaphones for my kids' schools, and Al Gore, the Former Next President of the United States, who makes me wanna run right out and cut the power lines to my house and never drive anywhere ever again.


Here is a photo of a person called Imogen Heap whom I've read about and who is apparently a critic's darling: This outfit is a disaster but it's so crazy that I must like it. And I looooooove those white boots.


Do you know who this is?

This is Ike Turner. He is not dead or in jail, and he won a Grammy.
Nice to see that he's all cleaned up and sane now. Umm...

This is Nelly Furtado. I want to smack the smirk off her face. Seriously, who is her image stylist, who would advise her to put on such a face? She's beautiful but she looks so weird, in a very bad way!
And that dress is nasty. She's hosting the Juno Awards this year. She'll probably squint and pucker her way through the whole thing. See, kids, look what being a Promiscuous Girl does to your face! Keep your legs together if you don't wanna end up like this.

Jamie Foxx. You're handsome and award winningly talented. And you're funny.
Now put it away, dear.

Jennifer Hudson. I am not tired of her. She may come back next year.


So after all of that, I picked up all the dog toys and the slippers and the popcorn bowl, and put the empty back in the case, and stumbled into bed. I need to rest up now for the Oscars and I'm flippin exhausted!!

Like I said...God help me, I just loooooove showbiz.

Fragile Things by Neil Gaiman

I'd heard the name Neil Gaiman whispered and discussed with great reverence, but it took me ages to get my hands on one of his books. Now I don’t know what the heck was wrong with me to take so long.

If you’re not familiar with his work you might not be sure exactly what he writes. Horror? Fantasy? Graphic novel? Screenplays? Poetry? Children’s?

YES.

All of those. And if you’re like me and new to this, I highly recommend Fragile Things. It’s a collection of short stories, poems, and prose that defies category. You’ll find mythology, aliens, imagination, fantasies and nightmares.

I have a copy and I’m hooked. Big fan. Big shiny new fan, that’s me.



Oh and also he’s English. I love English men. I really do adore English men. (If Johnny Depp was English I’d forget my own name. I digress, sorry.)

Neil Gaiman will entrance you and completely sicken you. He can make you smile or maybe even laugh. The emotional roller coaster ride is worth every second. He has the ability to make every single on of these pieces different from the one before it. Just be prepared-- late at night, you might need to read the next story looking for a less jolting memory as you drift off the sleep. And be warned-- you might be reading for a long time.


Fragile Things is subtitled “Short Fictions and Wonders” which I think is perfect.

A word about the packaging, because you know how much the visual and tactile senses appeal to me: this book is GORGEOUS. The smooth white hardcover wears a jacket of what appears to be tissue paper but I suspect might be a lot tougher. I'm not brave enough to try to rip it. I'm ridiculously precious with my books. The inside covers are a peaceful robin's egg blue. Nice contrast to the turmoil inside. And I can't do this packaging justice by describing it. It has to be picked up and felt and examined with your own eyes. Take the jacket off. Look what happens to the images. Run your hands over it. (Now, slink out of the bookstore before they all start lookin at ya funny. )

If you ever felt the need to have your brain opened and your imagination expanded, this is the tool for the job.

I have to award this collection with FIVE JOHN DEERE TRACTORS but they are time travelling, web spinning, phantasmagorical vampire tractors.

Night At The Museum

What do you see when your group includes two people in their forties, two people in their thirties, a 14 year old, a 12 year old, a 10 year old and a 9 year old?

See this.

It's not brilliant or perfect in any way, but there's something for everybody. Yes, it aims to teach you all that a museum is a swingin fun rockin place to go for entertainment, and yes it gets rather preachy about it. We didn't really need that lesson. We love museums with a damn near geeky enthusiasm. (We don't get out much.)

I was afraid this would be like Jumanji II. Luckily for me this one isn't nearly as stressful.

Did I mention preachy? It comes from the Divorced Dad trying to redeem himself to his kid, his ex wife, and her squeaky clean and ambitious new man.

Oh and there's also the theme of Dreamer Who Can't Get It Together And Always Gives Up, Moving On To The Next Crazy Get Rick Soon Scheme.

It goes like this: Larry needs a job. He gets sent to the Museum of Natural History, where the three night guards are being squeezed out of their job and are to be replaced by one guy. They get to choose the guy.

As it turns out, they're not quite as feeble as they first appear to be. Everything in the museum comes to life after dark, and they have it all figured out how to deal with the chaos that erupts. Now Larry has to figure out how control a puppy of a tyrannosaurus, armies of tiny fighting guys, and Attila the Hun. Plus there's a monkey who's got it in for him.

Ben Stiller plays it like Ben Stiller. He's reeeeelly reeeelly gooddd looooking. It's a likeable performance.

Of course, Owen Wilson shows up, as a tiny over excited cowboy, just because Stiller and Wilson are like Peas And Carrots.

Robin Williams keeps it together and does not chew up the whole movie. What restraint!

The plot is easy enough to follow for kids, but not so incredibly dumb that we older folks zoned out.

There are plot problems, minor ones, but I would like to harp on a little peeve of mine. When our boy Larry jumps on the Former-President's-Wax-Likeness' horse and saves the day, I give up. The average New Yorker can jump on a horse for the first time and gallop across Central Park to save the day? If you are a New Yorker and you could full gallop a horse like that, please tell me so that I can stand corrected. Dammit, it's scenes like this that make life very difficult for riding instructors! Ok, rant over.

I especially loved the trio of cantankerous old guys. I love it that they are much stronger and smarter than we expect. Let's hear it for old guys!!! (Yeah, I'm old enough to remember when Dick Van Dyke was on my black and white TV!)

I don't think it's a classic, but it doesn't stink to high hell. I'll give it...

THREE JOHN DEERE TRACTORS!

the Hick Chic Best & Worst of 2006 Awards!

I'm doing it my way, featuring only the silly crap that matters to me in my small, overgrown, slightly dirty corner of the world...

BEST DRESSED (group)
The Raconteurs



BEST DRESSED (solo)
Johnny Depp


BEST RENAMING OF AN ARTICLE OF CLOTHING
Me! For doing away with the hateful moniker of "wife beater" and hereby declaring the white tank top be called a HICK HUGGER! See?!?

BEST LINE SPOKEN BY A FICTIONAL PIRATE AFTER A SLIMY HANDSHAKE

"I feel sullied, and...unusual..."

WORST WASTE OF A SOUTHERN GIRL WHO SEEMS PERFECTLY NICE BUT DOESN'T SEEM ALL SO BRIGHT Nothing is going in the right direction in that photo. You know it's bad when you find yourself thinking that her rotten good for nothin husband was better than who she's hanging around with now. Girl, go home and feed your children.

BEST LOOKING BIOLOGICAL THIRD CHILD BORN TO GORGEOUS HUSBAND STEALER/ CHEAT COMBO
Sigh. Good looks are not the most important thing in the world. Repeat.
Y'know, they better stay together after all that work. Cute family, seriously.

BEST HAIR
Andrew Stockdale of Aussie rock band Wolfmother.


WORST SELF ESTEEM BEATING
Ashlee Simpson's old nose.
I feel sorry for the old nose. It didn't do anything to deserve this kind of ostracization.
It's done. It ain't gonna grow back. Way to go kid, you look like a Barbie doll clone now. I don't even know you.

And... suddenly I stopped caring.

BEST ALBUM FROM 1971 MADE IN 2006 BY PEOPLE BORN IN THE 80s

Wolfmother.

MOST UNLIKELY ALBUM TO BE LOVED BY A HICK
AFI, Decemberunderground.I know. Stop teasing me about the Guyliner. Okay. I know.

BEST SONG STUCK IN HEAD (non irritating)
"Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley. What an incredibly catchy tune! That guy has a voice like...like...clouds...or like, candy...or his voice is like that feeling in your belly when you're so happy but you don't know why and all you know is that you wanna stay right where you are? Like, that's that guy's voice. Duzzat make me craaaayyzzzayyyy?????

THE "I'LL HAVE TO HOSE YOU DOWN FIRST, BUT OKAY" AWARD (fictional character)
Captain Jack Sparrow


BEST 3 WAY SWORDFIGHT SEQUENCE INVOLVING TWO HANDSOME BRITISH ACTORS AND ONE JOHNNY DEPP
ahhhhhhhhhh......what?

THE "IT COSTS SO MUCH TO ENTERTAIN US" AWARD
King Kong. I can't comprehend what this monstrosity cost to make and I'm ashamed to be a white North American who stupidly paid to see it. I'll never get that 3 1/2 hours of my life back.

THE "IT TAKES A HECK OF AN ACTOR TO DARN NEAR STEAL A MOVIE FROM JOHNNY DEPP" AWARD...especially when said actor's real face is obscured by a virtual squid face...
Bill Nighy as Davey Jones


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Alright 2007. I AM READY FOR YOU.

A Complicated Kindness by Miriam Toews

There are novels that shake me up and infuriate me and inspire me all at once. This is one of those.

I've already discussed how the author's somewhat negative view of growing up Mennonite clashed my own; in fact, I barely recognized the faith as my own the way she describes it. You can read all about that here, where I wrote about my feelings in great detail. Right here however, is where I discuss the novel for what it is.

It's brilliant.

Miriam Toews has perfectly captured the voice of a disillusioned, smart and sensitive, bored and hurt teenage girl.

As I finish up my own novel about a couple of similarly inclined teenagers, I feel like I've just been taught how it should be done.

Sixteen year old Nomi Nickel lives with her dad because her sister, then her mother, have run away. Nobody knows where they have gone, and Nomi is haunted by their motives for leaving. There isn't much of a plot, other than Nomi thinking of ways to leave her stifling small village, but as the novel moves along the tension rises steadily and quietly.

That's the genius of this story- you barely notice as the tension builds. Nomi wanders in her own thoughts and in her surroundings, and it seems like nothing is happening, but gradually clues surface about the past and about where her future will take her.

The only way I can do it justice is to show you instead of telling you.

I may be a disappointment to Menno Simons but I would like him to know that I have carved, out of the raw material that he has provided, a new faith. I sitll believe that one day we'll all be togehter, the four of us, in New York City. Lou Reed could live with us too. We would all sleep until nooon, then play Frisbee in Central Park, then watch him play in clubs. We'd be his roadies. People would say hey, is that Lou Reed and his Mennonite family of roadies?


This is amazing- I have said so many prayers that sounded just like this:
I went back into my bedroom and knelt at my bed the way I did when I was a kid. I folded my hands and pressed the top knuckle joints of my thumbs hard into my forehead. Dear God. I don't know what I want or who I am. Apparently you do. Um...that's great. Never mind. You have a terrible reputation here. You should know that. Oh, but I guess you do know that. Save me now. Or when it's convenient. We could run away together. This is stupid. What am I doing? I guess this is a prayer. I feel like an idiot,but I guess you knew that already, too. My sister said that god is music. Goodbye. Amen. I lay in my bed and waited for the thick, sweet feeling to wash over me, for that unreal semi-conscious state where the story begins and takes on a life of its own and all you have to do is close your eyes and give in and let go and give in and let go and go and go and go.

I don't care how you grew up, whether you were from a small town or a farm or the burbs or the big city. If you are or were a teenager, and ever questioned your sanity and that of the people around you, then you should read this book.

Despite my disappointment at the way Mennonites are portrayed, and despite the lack of quotation marks in conversations, I rate "A Complicated Kindness" a FIVE JOHN DEERE TRACTOR rating, even though Nomi Nickel herself would probably be mortified!

THE END by Lemony Snicket

I have been afraid to tell you about this book for about two months. Aside from the obvious-- that stories about orphaned children being chased by villains who want to harm them and steal their money-- THE END is almost impossible to review without spoiling it for you! I promise not to spoil the ending of a book. This book is all about the end.

You didn't expect a happy ending though, did you?

You won't get it.

As for loose ends being tied up, you'll be disappointed again if that's what you're looking for.

Despite that, it's not a letdown. By the end of this book I felt just as perplexed as ever. I'm not sure who the father of Kit Snicket's baby is, or what's in the sugar bowl, or how Carmelita Spats became such a horrible brat.

Yes, we want to know. It's frustrating to not know what's going on. It feels like we've been given all these details only to be left wondering what the mystery is! But you don't get to know. You will never find out.

And that's the way it should be. Life does not turn out the way you expect it to, or even the way you want it to. Even though A Series of Unfortunate Events is one of the dreariest, saddest stories, if you take away the fantastical unlikely details, the sentiment is quite realistic. Somebody, somewhere, has a worse life than you!

Now. If you haven't read this series yet, for cryin out loud, will you just do it? Start at the beginning and read the whole thing, then read it again.

THE END- I'm only giving it 3 tractors out of 5 because I didn't want it to end.

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS- must be given all five tractors.

Stranger Than Fiction

I went to see this movie in a theatre which means I paid full price for it, on the night it opened. (Yes I waited a month and a half to tell you about it. I've been busy.) I went with my kids, my writer friend, and her daughter.

We all loved it.

Being a frustrated novellist I was of course drawn to the concept of a guy whose life is being narrated in his head. I was curious to see how this would all play out. I think it worked although many of the real critics disagree!

Don't go into this movie with an analytical mind, or you will have unanswerable questions. Just accept that one morning while brushing his teeth, IRS agent Harold Crick (Played brilliantly by Will Ferrell) hears an elegant British female voice in his head.

This unwelcome voice is providing a running commentary on his every action and thought. Worse, the voice includes disturbing things like, "Little did Harold know that soon he'd be dead."


The voice belongs to writer Karen Eiffel (the always excellent Emma Thompson) and she's stuck. She's under pressure to get this novel finished but she's struggling to find a way to off her main character, Harold Crick. She has to kill him off; it's what she does. "Death and Taxes" is due but Karen is still creating death scenarios that don't work while her new assistant (Queen Latifah) stands by unrelentingly, under orders from the publisher.


Karen Eiffel is a mess. She is exactly what we want to see when we think of Author Plagued With Writer's Block!

(Again, don't try to pick through the details for any kind of verisimilitude. Just go with it.)

Desperate, Harold visits a Literature professor, seeking help to find out whose voice it is.
Keep your eye on how many cups of coffee Dustin Hoffman's professor goes through.

Harold may think the voice is driving him crazy but that's nothing.... he goes really crazy when he makes an appointment with a bakery owner to discuss the payment of her taxes. She's like nobody Harold's ever met before, and whaddaya know...turns out she's in the novel too. After she's done yelling at him, she seems to like him, much to her dismay.

This whole thing about Harold's impending doom will not make this romance easy. The rebellious punker baker herself (Maggie Gyllenhaal, who made me love her) isn't going to make it easy either.

Meanwhile, watch out for the young woman job hunting and the kid on the bike. Pay attention.

If you're expecting the typical Will Ferrell schtick, you will be disappointed because this isn't it.

I'm going to come right out and say it, okay? WILL FERRELL MOVED ME TO TEARS.

He did not get naked or semi naked other than the -wait for it- love scene. Yes, Will Ferrell love scene, and it didn't make me gag or snicker. I know. Shocking.

He did not take on a silly accent. There is only one burst of physical exertion. He managed to pull off the difficult task of bringing a basically boring guy to life and making us care about him. Yes, Harold Crick is regimented and rather dull. You didn't expect anything else from an IRS agent did you? C'mon...

Scenes to watch out for:

-Ana gives Harold his first taste of homemade cookies. Harold is blissful but of course promptly screws it up.

-The professor interrogates Harold. "Are you the king of anything?"

-You know what? Any scene with Karen Eiffel. She's that good.

-Harold getting ready for work on the day of his doom.


Here's Harold teaching himself how to play guitar. Why the heck not? He's gonna die any day now, he might as well live a little.
This movie made me laugh and cry.

Final note- "How many people have I killed?" I think that's something any aspiring writer needs to keep track of!

I'm giving it Four Tractors and a Snowblower!