Clippers announcers suspended one game for insensitive comments
Clippers announcer Ralph Lawler
Clippers longtime play-by-play announcer Ralph Lawler and color analyst Michael Smith paid the price for some insensitive comments about Iranian-born Memphis Grizzlies center Hamed Haddadi on the Fox Sports Prime Ticket telecast last Wednesday. They were suspended for the Clippers’ telecast against the Denver Nuggets after a viewer who e-mailed Fox to complain.
Michael Eaves and Don MacLean, who regularly serve as halftime and postgame analysts, substituted for Lawler and Smith on the broadcast.
“That’s unfortunate. It was pretty strange not seeing them there,” Clippers point guard Baron Davis said after the Clippers’ 106-99 victory. “Ralph and Mike are very classy guys, and they didn’t do it to hurt anyone.
“A lot of times when you’re commenting on games, it’s a source of entertainment. And a lot of times, people may take offense. But the viewers need to understand that it’s entertainment, and people are entitled to their opinion. I stand by Ralph and Mike because they’re great guys and they only want to support and help everybody in the league.”
Lawler, 71, is in his 31st season doing Clippers games, and Smith is in his 12th.
“We regret the remarks made by Clippers announcers Michael Smith and Ralph Lawler during Wednesday’s telecast,” Fox said in a statement before the game. “While we believe that Michael and Ralph did not intend their exchange to be offensive, the comments were inappropriate.”
The transcript of the conversation between Lawler and Smith, which occurred late in the game, was printed on the Los Angeles Times’ Web site:
Smith: “Look who’s in.”
Lawler: “Hamed Haddadi. Where’s he from?”
Smith: “He’s the first Iranian to play in the NBA.” (Smith pronounced Iranian as “Eye-ranian,” a pronunciation that offended the viewer who complained.)
Lawler: “There aren’t any Iranian players in the NBA,” repeating Smith’s mispronunciation.
Smith: “He’s the only one.”
Lawler: “He’s from Iran?”
Smith: “I guess so.”
Lawler: “That Iran?”
Smith: “Yes.”
Lawler: “The real Iran?”
Smith: “Yes.”
Lawler: “Wow. Haddadi that’s H-A-D-D-A-D-I.”
Smith: “You’re sure it’s not Borat’s older brother?”
Smith: “If they ever make a movie about Haddadi, I’m going to get Sacha Baron Cohen to play the part.”
Lawler: “Here’s Haddadi. Nice little back-door pass. I guess those Iranians can pass the ball.”
Smith: “Especially the post players.
Lawler: “I don’t know about their guards.”
Out of Body
This is part 3 of 3 in the Origin Story Series
Read part 1 – Bye Bye
Read part 2 – Where am I
The initial impressions of my new home augmented in strangeness as my journey through the twilight zone led me to meet my new colleagues (another English word I have just been introduced to). I sat in my boss’s office at a round booth and table that must have been lifted from an alley behind Pizza Hut (they have those here; they are much cuter than in America; that is another story). Groggy from the flight that only just ended, I introduced myself to the three, lovely girls, roughly my age, who I would work with for the upcoming year. I learned the names of my new co-workers, and, at once wondered why the names were as Korean as red hair and freckles: Kelly, Uni, and Elie. I had momentarily forgotten where my employ was solicited. I work at an English school and somehow, my brilliance for deduction didn’t lead me to infer that these names were Americanized for my—and the brilliant, learning children’s—benefit. Finally, I realized why these were the first familiar sounding syllables I had heard in a day.
“What are your Korean names?” I asked. This was the first lesson I learned in cultural relations: Questions don’t always succeed in making one seem willing to relate. Sometimes, a questions only function, is to render one an outsider. And that’s what I was. Sometimes, as a modern, progressive man, I struggle to differentiate between cultural sensitivity and the belief that everyone across the globe is the same. I mistakenly act as if, by acknowledging differences between cultures, I somehow contribute to global ignorance. This error leads me to bury my face in my hands almost daily.
I hee-hawed a few times, in a fruitless effort to spit out their Korean names properly. I tried over and over, each time met with laughter and most probably, judgment. My self-awareness flared like Patrick Ewing’s nostrils at the free throw line, and suddenly, I had an out-of-body experience. It was just like I read it would be: I was floating; I could see my physical body as I hovered above; an acute level of consciousness washed over me as I realized what an absolute jerk I looked like, honking out syllable after wanton syllable. Even as a ghost, I was mortified at my vain attempt to fit in seamlessly. Horrified, I (my newborn ghost) looked up and away from the pitiable scene for a brief second. As I glanced above, I was unexpectedly surrounded by a beaming, pulsating wave of blinding, but beautiful light. Attracted in a way I have never been attracted to a woman—enticed beyond the sight of any guitar or plate of sandwich I had ever seen—I began to float… nay, fly… nay, dart towards the shimmering oblivion that beckoned me like a speed metal, Spanish speaking, puppy roller coaster. As I drew closer and closer to the light, I could see human figures that were initially merely shadows. I grew closer and I began to recognize them. Late relatives, whom I loved dearly, waited for me in the light. Passed artists, musicians and entertainers I had admired, congregated, writing on little sketch pads as if to prepare notes for my benefit. Spike, my deceased dog, Jack London (I don’t know how he got there) and Weezer—frozen in 1994, peered down at me as I approached my destination… nay, my destiny. I soared at maximum speed and noticed how they began to speak—quietly at first—then, with increasing desperation as I drew closer. I couldn’t make out what they said. The light was deafening. I figured it was my grand welcoming. As I raced closer, Spike spoke up, louder than any of the rest.
“Turn your mumbling, fool ass around before you humiliate us out of heaven, dummy!” Spike had never spoken to me like that before.
Instantaneously, I was jolted backwards, struggling violently to stay in the light. But it was too late. I returned to my body. Kelly, Elie and Uni sat across the table, hands cupped over their mouths, politely giggling. My clothes were soaked in sweat. Elie mentioned that I had begun stammering about Calvin Coolidge and some conspiracy by his wife, aimed to force normal and prudent men into dancing at social gatherings. My faux pas hadn’t gone unnoticed, but I was also lucky enough to be the beneficiary of the graciousness of these three wonderful ladies. We agreed that I stick with their English names. Kenny sent me home to think about what I had done. In reality, he just didn’t trust me with the children in that state of mind. Kenny is a prudent man; I imagine he doesn’t want to have to dance.
Kenny does, however enjoy the Noraebang. In Korea, the Noraebang is an extremely popular version of Karaoke; although instead of being forced to embarrass oneself in front of an entire bar, one must stand in a small room with a limited group of people and embarrass themselves in this intimate and private setting. One of the first outings I had the pleasure to experience in this ancient, sacred, land was the mortification at the hands of singing Whitney Houston’s classic, I Wanna Dance with Somebody in front of my new boss, his wife and their son who was in town on Korean Thanksgiving vacation from the Army. I feel it goes without saying that I wasn’t invited to Noraebang initially. Oh no, I was first pampered with an entire, lovely, delicious, dinner with wine and Soju. Then, right when the timing was perfect—when I would look like the most ungrateful, spineless pansy if I were to refuse, Mimi spoke:
“Do you know Noraebang?”
“Huh?”
“Noraebang! You go into small room and you sing.”
“Oh! Karaoke? Yes, Karaoke is very popular in America” (I always say how things are in America, in case they forget where I came from).
“No no no. Noraebang is in a small room. Just us.”
“Yes, I know Noraebang. It’s popular in Japan, right.” Don’t bring up Japan.
“You want to go?”
“Sure! I would love to go to Noraebang sometime.” Of course, I said this thinking it was an empty promise I would never have to follow up on.
“Let’s go.” As I mentioned previously, Mimi is very skeptical of English being the language of the insincere.
I sat in silence for a moment. I admit: I teetered on the verge of refusal. Apparently, my conscience sided with Mimi, as I realized what it would look like if I were to say no. The new English teacher, who’s willing to be flown across the world for free, to work at a tremendous job, receiving benefits he isn’t even eligible for in his own country… this English teacher who jumps at the chance to eat free dinner at the expense of his more that generous boss and wife, who will show up to work Monday morning complaining about how his cell phone fell out of his pocket in a cab, pleading to the boss to help him locate it again… wont even accept an invitation to go to the Noraebang. We went to the Noraebang.
Although I consider myself a musical person, I have never felt completely comfortable singing in front of people. Sure, I played for a band in college, and was able to blab incomprehensible nonsense at an unsuspecting audience, but I could never carry a nice tune, and I certainly could never find any range or key that suited my voice well. So, needless to say, I was a tad nervous. At least back home, whenever forced to Karaoke, I could just pick my favorite J Lo song or Salt N’ Peppa’s Push It because everyone (hopefully) understood my sense of humor and we could all just laugh about how I sing the bass line instead of the words. This approach does not cut it in Korea. Quickly I learned. The Noraebang is not about humor. The Noraebang was about Andrew (Kenny’s son) preparing himself for Simon and American Idol. This young man commanded every late 90’s R&B hit with the confidence and versatility of R. Kelly before he was a creepy, avant garde, music lovers for irony, superhero. His rendition of Stevie Wonder’s Lately not only ended with me singing along and cheering simultaneously, but also was successful in convincing me that he was lying about his inability to speak English. Next was Brian McKnight’s, forever mathematically competent, Back at One. “One, your like a dream come true. Two, just want to be with you. Three, girl it’s plain to see that somehow this song travelled across the sea and, four…” At this point, as Andrew counted his way through—what must have been—the tenth cheesy, KJ 103 love song in a row, foot in his mouth Zach, surfaced.
A combination of admiration for Andrew’s singing ability and song selection, my propensity to never take public singing performances seriously, the stark polarity between Andrew’s R&B love songs as compared to my versions of Whitney Houston, J Lo, Stone Temple Pilot’s Interstate Love Song and House of the Rising Sun (which, by the way, has way less singing in it than any Noraebang song should ever have), Kenny and Mimi’s ¾ time Korean jams I couldn’t read and had never heard before, and a level of discomfort and embarrassment I was unaccustomed to, resulted in my inability to control the laughter any longer. I couldn’t help it. I tried to ignore it. I tried to brush it away and listen to Andrew’s moving interpretation of Ruben Studdard’s, Just Because, respectfully. But, like a ten year old boy who just had a dirty word whispered into his ear during a prayer in church, I could hold the laughter in no more. I began to cackle. This was no giggle, or snicker. This was a full on guffaw—hand’s covering face, tears in the eyes, legs in the air, laughter. I literally wept with delirious hilarity, while Andrew raised his voice a few octaves and Mimi smacked the tambourine against her other hand as if this slow, emotional love song was the lamest Jefferson Airplane song in creation. And somehow, through all of the anxiety I had experienced due to my lack of singing skills, and despite any self-inflicted comparison I made myself susceptible to with respect to Andrew, I noticed that I was truly enjoying myself. After hours of song after song after song, we left the Noraebang with sore throats, and jokes about how Andrew should have charged us admission to sing with him. Finally, comfortable in the situation, I decided to ask a question I had been curious about all night. To Andrew, half-way laughing: “Dude, how do know all those songs? You sing as if you have soul.” We stood, momentarily silent. I realized what I had said and how it could be interpreted as severely offensive. As the awkwardness subsisted, I recalled the valuable advice I learned earlier from my colleagues upon asking what their Korean names were: Questions don’t always succeed in making one seem willing to relate. Sometimes, a questions only function, is to render one an outsider. And that’s what I was. I looked at Andrew, Kenny and Mimi, prepared to defend my ignorant assumption. Andrew stared at me and nodded. “Thank you.” He didn’t understand me.
Taylor Swift, Michael Jackson, Rascal Flatts among Sunday’s AMA winners
Rascal Flatts accepts the award for favorite country band, duo or group title during Sunday’s American Music Awards in Los Angeles. (Associated Press photos)
Michael Jackson won a record four posthumous awards at Sunday night’s American Music Awards, while country starlet Taylor Swift won five trophies, including the top award, entertainer of the year.
The 19-year-old country music star was named the year’s favorite artist, giving Jackson his only loss of the night, according to the Associated Press. She also was awarded favorite female pop/rock artist, favorite female country artists, favorite country album for “Fearless,” and favorite adult contemporary artist.
“Music has never been ultimately about competition,” she said as she accepted the top prize via satellite from London, where she is to perform today. “To even be mentioned in a category with Michael Jackson, who we will miss and love forever, is an unimaginable honor.”
Jackson, who died in June at age 50, was voted favorite male artist in the pop/rock and 
soul/R&B categories. His 2003 greatest-hits album, “Number Ones,” also won favorite album in both categories, bringing his career AMA total to 23, making him the most honored artist in AMA history.
Jackson’s trophies were accepted by his brother Jermaine, who paid tribute to his late brother by wearing glittery white glove.
Rascal Flatts, which includes Joe Don Rooney of Picher, again won the favorite country band, duo or group title.
The show featured a eye-popping performances by Lady Gaga and “American Idol” runner-up Adam Lambert and a special award for Whitney Houston.
The soundtrack to the first “Twilight” movie was named favorite soundtrack, capping a big weekend for the film franchise, as the sequel “New Moon” made $140.7 million in its debut over the weekend.
The American Music Awards honor the year’s top-selling artists in eight popular genres, and fans voted for the winners online.
See the full list of winners on the jump.
Private schools POW: Sterling Shepard, Heritage Hall…
By Robert Przybylo
BPrzybylo@opubco.com
Can one player really make that much of a difference? If it’s Heritage Hall and that player is sophomore Sterling Shepard, the answer is yes.
With Shepard back in the lineup, the Chargers were back to being at the absolute best this team can be.
The question, however, is this team’s best good enough to claim another championship? We have three weeks to find out that answer.
Until then, Shepard will have to be content in winning the Private Schools Player of the Week for the second time this season.
Though Barry Sanders got the ball rolling early, Shepard put the game away in the second quarter of a 48-8 win against Lindsay.
Shepard caught a touchdown pass from Cooper Cloud and also threw for two of his own as Heritage improved to 8-4.
Shepard has had two concussions this year, so the next one would definitely end his season. He plays so hard for such a ‘little’ guy. He leaves it all out there and provides such a lift to the team.
Heritage heads to Pawhuska this week in a 2A quarterfinal. I will be there. But for a different take on the Chargers (a long overdue one), check out Wednesday’s paper.
Other contenders
LaRone Richardson, RB, Bishop McGuinness: Wow, a man possessed Friday against Sallisaw. Richardson ran for 155 yards and a touchdown in the 20-14 loss. More than that, he showed the explosiveness he’s become known for and what will be possible for this team next year.
Barry Sanders, RB, Heritage: Definitely set the tone early. Added another three touchdowns on the ground but added another interception return for a touchdown. He’s got quite the nose for the ball.
Jay Lester, LB, Irish: Had an interception and blocked an extra point as Irish shut down Sallisaw in second half but couldn’t overcome slow start.
Where am I
This is part 2 of 3 in the Origin Story Series
Read part 1 – Bye Bye
Read part 3 – Out of Body
It has taken much longer to find a sense of place in Korea than anywhere I have ever been. This struggle is not surprising due to a lack of any familiar reference points in a place that feels so foreign. Another, much more whiny excuse, is that I began my teaching job a good 12 hours after I arrived in this country. The jet lag medicine I took was this new, experimental treatment, called: screaming children. I don’t think this pioneering method will turn many heads and it certainly didn’t succeed as a good first impression. As I sat in my new office (a new English word I recently learned) on the first day, I stared at the rack of Disney Adventures magazines from 1996, and all I could manage to think was, “Where am I? What am I doing here? Elijah Wood was in Flipper?”
This disoriented confusion was compounded immensely by several situations I have now come to expect from new Korean friends. My boss, Kenny, and his wife, Mimi (not their Korean names) were so overtly and unnecessarily nice upon picking me up that I figured they were potentially overcompensating for when they would later tell me that I would not be paid, or, as my friends at home kept warning me: of my imminent sale into the sex trade industry. It turns out, though, that Koreans are generally benevolent and very generous people. Fooled me. I came here from New York. I did, however, encounter a stern voice almost immediately upon entering my new apartment when I was so careless as to not remove my shoes. I was so surprised by this immediate reprimanding, that for a week, I instantly removed my shoes, despite the surroundings (they didn’t find this charming at the supermarket. Get it straight, Korea). The stern admonishment was followed hastily by a hurried tutorial introducing me to all the domestic accessories I wouldn’t have the capacity to understand: “Don’t drink the tap water!” Kenny pointed to an upside-down (or is it right-side up) water cooler jug and his point became immediately clear. Without so much as a disclaimer, I was next introduced to the bathroom: An absolute shrine built to efficiency, my bathroom has a toilet, shower, and washing machine all in the same, tiled and sunken area. Initially, I only saw the toilet and washing machine; terrible visions of daily public shower at a local gym bombarded my head. Right before I mustered up the courage to register my first complaint with the new boss, I saw the shower head mounted on the wall between the toilet and the washing machine. I felt relieved/bewildered. I was tired from sitting in an airplane that didn’t speak English for 14 hours and I began to develop a one-track mind that was politely speeding towards, “Please, get the hell out of here!” It wasn’t over yet, though. The tour had only begun.
The unbelievable hospitality I have been shown since arriving was immediately apparent in Mimi’s insistence that I eat these groceries she brought for me. “Please, I am full. I ate on the plane,” I lied. But, Mimi, although she speaks English quite well, often chooses to disregard it as the language of the insincere. She unloaded a bag of rice, spiced vegetables, bean sprout soup, and dried seaweed and began giving me instructions on how to not dishonor the rice machine. My mind wandered into jet lag oblivion as Mimi explained what each button on each appliance meant. Now, I wish I had been paying attention because I am terrified of my washing machine and can only cook food in the microwave at one minute intervals (I am yet to know how to read Korean). I am too proud to ask for help. I hope my heater knows how to work itself. After enjoying the delicious food and enduring my first (of what would be many) chop stick chastisement, I was given a tour of the neighborhood and the school. At this point I really can’t recall my impressions at seeing the area or the school for the first time… that is, apart from wondering to myself why Kenny kept driving the wrong way on one way streets. I understand now, though, that one way signs are merely a community-wide indication of governmental abuse of power. The fascism will not stand… regardless of how narrow the road is! The rest of the evening was mostly a gray and neon blur of semi-conscious, over-exaggerated politeness that I have become amazing at in the past month. Kenny came into my apartment again and showed me the power converter I would need to make my electronics function, and then, realizing I had had enough, left me.
I remember as a teenager, my church youth group would take a trip to Colorado every summer for a week long conference. We would be away from home for ten days because before the conference, we always went white water rafting, and after the conference, we would stop in one of Colorado’s beautiful cities and be let loose to run wild around town without supervision. I would spend months and months preparing for the trip. I even worked as a cook and kitchen slave at the church for the nastiest, most unhappy lady in the whole church in order to raise money for the trip. Despite my most-likely intolerable excitement for the trip, I can remember, each year, for the first couple days I was away from home, thinking that I would do anything just to return home. One year especially, my dad had received True Lies for his birthday right before I left for Colorado. I was told that upon my return, I would be permitted to watch the movie. This was the first R rated movie I had ever been given permission to see. The torture I endured at the hands of my own mind (that doesn’t sound right) the first couple days of that trip was such that I could barely endure. Nevertheless, no matter how much I longed to return home at the beginning of the trip, by the time my trip had ended, I would have done anything in my limited pubescent power to stay in Colorado. This polarized outlook state of mind has been a consistent theme in my life: From travel to work, to my love life, it has been present. Luckily, I am aware of this, grass is always greener mentality I possess, and I have been subsequently rewarded with the gift of patience, paired with the understanding that I must never trust my first inclination. I experienced three days of an overwhelming urge to get out of Korea and go back to where I felt like I belonged. Now I enjoy every minute I am here.
Edmond POW: Memorial’s Justin Merideth…
By Robert Przybylo
BPrzybylo@opubco.com
If you’ve read the Edmond blogs this season, you know I bought into Memorial coach Justin Merideth from the word ‘go.’
From being out at the practices in August to seeing how he interacted with the kids, had a feeling the Bulldogs weren’t being given the proper respect.
In the picks, Memorial went 10-2 according to my predictions. Seriously, that’s just how much I believed in Merideth.
For the historic season the Bulldogs had, I’m giving the Edmond Player of the Week to coach Justin Merideth.
Is that allowed? Well, it’s my blog, so I’m going to say yes.
Memorial (8-4) gave everything it had in a 28-14 loss to Jenks. It wasn’t overwhelmed by the moment. And after being down 14-0, the Bulldogs fought back to 14-14 going into the fourth quarter.
Merideth, who has mentioned his staff every time I’ve talked to him, was able to get the most out of his kids and the coaching staff devised a great plan throughout this season.
I’ve harped on the move of putting Kameron Doolittle at QB and having senior leader Blake Umberham sit and how well everybody handled that situation, but that really was the spark that made this season take off.
Memorial won the city championship for the first time in 12 years and made the quarterfinals for the first time ever since the Edmond split.
Replacing the defense will be tough, but the offense should have a lot more explosion with several key components (topped by Doolittle and Cale Olbert) coming back.
Other Memorial contenders:
Josh Sierra, RB: Had a one-yard TD run to make it 14-7.
Adrian Shoecraft, LB: Had an interception and a fumble recovery.
Nelson Medeiros, DB: Had an interception.
Parker Langford and Kameron Doolittle: Duo combined for the touchdown to make it 14-14.
Box office report for Nov. 23, 2009: “Twilight: New Moon” rises high
The vampire romance sequel “The Twilight Saga: New Moon” dominated the weekend box office, sucking in $140.7 million in its first three days, according to the Associated Press.
The second film based on Stephenie Meyer’s best-selling book series also made $258.8 million worldwide, indicating the author’s saga isn’t just supernaturally popular in the United States. Overseas, “New Moon” debuted in 25 countries and sucked up $118.1 million.
The huge opening weekend for the Summit Entertainment release not only landed the sequel at No. 1 on the box-office charts, it also was more than twice the $69.6 million haul over the same weekend last year for “Twilight,” the first film in the franchise.
“New Moon” also rose to third on the all-time domestic box-office list behind 2008’s $158.4 million opening weekend for the Batman blockbuster “The Dark Knight” and 2007’s $151.1 million haul for “Spider-Man 3.”
Among the top-10 all-time openings, “New Moon” is the only one that came outside of Hollywood’s busiest time, the summer season, according to the AP. The movie adaptation of Meyer’s third “Twilight” book, “Eclipse,” has already been filmed and is due in theaters June 30, 2010.
On Friday, “New Moon” set an all-time domestic high for opening day with $72.7 million, topping the previous record of $67.2 million, again set by “The Dark Knight.
“New Moon” continues the love story between human Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart) and her vampire boyfriend Edward Cullen (Rpbert Pattinson) but adds a love triangle to the story with Bella’s best friend Jacob Black (Taylor Lautner), who turns out to be a werewolf.
Overall, Hollywood had its second-biggest non-holiday weekend ever, with final numbers expected to come in slightly behind the $260 million the industry rang up over the weekend of July 18, 2008, when “The Dark Knight” opened, according to the AP. Compared to the same weekend last year, box-office business was up 59 percent.
Females made up 80 percent of the audience for “New Moon,” which makes since since Meyer’s saga is phenomenally popular among girls and women. It also proves again to the movie studios – who seem to need constant reminders – that women will flock to movie theaters if given good reason. Young men aren’t the only ones who will turn out in droves to see a movie.
The “Twilight” franchise “taps into something primal and visceral that drives women crazy, and they’re willing to pay for the privilege,” Paul Dergarabedian, box-office analyst for Hollywood.com, told the AP.
The Warner Bros. football drama “The Blind Side” opened at No. 2 with $34.5 million. The film stars Sandra Bullock in the fact-based story of Baltimore Ravens tackle Michael Oher, who was a homeless teen taken in by a wealthy family and enrolled in private school.
As with “New Moon,” females were the big fans of “The Blind Side,” accounting for 59 percent of the audience. That may seem unusual for a sports film, but between Bullock and the movie’s family themes, women wanted to see it, too.
“To have two movies with huge appeal for women result in the second-biggest non-holiday weekend ever is amazing,” said Dergarabedian told the AP.
Sony’s animated adventure “Planet 51,” about a NASA astronaut (voiced by Dwayne Johnson) who causes a panic when he lands on an alien planet, debuted at No. 4 with $12.6 million.
The previous weekend’s top movie, Sony’s disaster tale “2012,” came in at No. 3 with $26.5 million, raising its domestic total to $108.2 million. Worldwide, “2012″ has taken in $449.8 million, despite some fairly disastrous reviews.
With the Thanksgiving, Hollywood is preparing for one of the busiest periods of the year at theaters. Several movies are opening Wednesday, including the Robin Williams-John Travolta comedy “Old Dogs,” the post-apocalypse drama “The Road,” George Clooney’s animated comedy “Fantastic Mr. Fox” and the kung fu actioner “Ninja Assassin.”
Here are the top 10 films for the weekend, according to the AP:
1. “The Twilight Saga: New Moon,” $140.7 million.
2. “The Blind Side,” $34.5 million.
3. “2012,” $26.5 million.
4. “Planet 51,” $12.6 million.
5. “Disney’s A Christmas Carol,” $12.2 million.
6. “Precious: Based on the Novel `Push’ by Sapphire,” $11 million.
7. “The Men Who Stare at Goats,” $2.8 million.
8. “Couples Retreat,” $2 million.
9. “The Fourth Kind,” $1.7 million.
10. “Law Abiding Citizen,” $1.6 million.
-BAM
Byebye
This is part 1 of 3 in the Origin Story Series
Read part 2 – Where am I
Read part 3 – Out of Body
As a human, who happens to be alive, it has been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember to spend significant time abroad. As I’ve grown, age has only served to make this inclination grow more and more urgent. And, as a human, who happens to be living, I often act upon urges: So, because of my humanity’s need to respond to said urges, I have leapt through flaming hoops, divulged sensitive personal information, signed each printed line presented to me, handed fifty bucks over to every middle-aged lady sitting behind a plate glass window, and lied on no less than three official documents (I did, in fact, bring unclaimed fruits and animals overseas…shhh!), all the while waiting for this hair-brained charade to blow up in my face… but… somehow… it didn’t… it worked… and now, here I am, in Seoul, South Korea, charged with one task: to bring manifest destiny full circle by teaching English to the future generation, and as a result, endorsing the Western Way—a way I have been overtly critical of, since the day I realized 3rd Rock From the Sun, sucked. In exchange for this one task, I will receive monetary compensation, assistance eating, and, perhaps, a new viewpoint of the world and, if I’m lucky, myself (man, that sounded corny). Can I go home now?
As a judgmental and sometimes petty person, I find it questionable how I am often inclined to size people and situations up before I know even one thing about them. As I sat in Los Angeles International airport, preparing to embark on this self-induced, life-changing journey, I noticed myself staring at each and every individual who I anticipated to be on my flight. I stared at the morbidly obese man in navy sweats, as his body (especially his face) mimicked his clothing selection, and thought: “I guarantee that man will be seated next to me.” One unnecessary thought led to another: “If a body takes two seats on the plane, should the person responsible for the body also be monetarily responsible for both seats?” The second unnecessary thought always seems to inadvertently trigger a chain reaction of carelessness that climaxes with a threat—manifest as a promise I make and intend to keep. “If at any point in this flight, I happen to look down and to the left, to notice my armrest enveloped in hairy, sweaty arm/man side, I promise to think of more rude things about this man I don’t know.” I am aware this inner dialogue is a sickness; and I am open to suggestion concerning whether it comes as a result of nature or nurture.
I do know that there are none safe from such appraisals. The most innocuous… nay, even the most benevolent practices and norms become fodder for the active but idle mind of a hater. Spread across the waiting room at the airport, are handfuls of thoughtful and polite individuals who think it is necessary to wear a mask in public places in order to contest the spread of disease. I notice these individuals immediately and apply my brand of intentionally ignorant humor to the situation. “Do these anti-germ spreading masks I see all around the gate really help stop the spread of disease? Or, instead, do they really only succeed at making all those without such masks, nervous?” While I certainly hope the former is true, I can’t help but bring my thought process full circle, arriving at the conclusion that culture dictates social norms and if the norms of another culture deviate from the norms of the culture I am accustomed to, watch out! I will notice. I will take mental note. I guess the answer to the aforementioned question is nurture… or is it nature? I intend to find out. This question, I am resolved in finding an answer to. This inclination of mine has been at the forefront of my mind throughout my entire recorded history. It has led me abroad. It has led me to this column.
So, my primary interests are a few-fold in writing this travel piece. First: objectively represent the city of Seoul and its’ inhabitants, incorporating as little xenophobia as possible. Second: give an account of my professional endeavors incorporating as little xenophobia as possible, and third: to explore the positive and negative effects that cultural manifest destiny has had on the eastern world—especially in the case of South Korea—incorporating as little inverse xenophobia as possible. Each day, I experience a vital but enigmatic society, struggling to reconcile a rich and ancient cultural history with an adopted, westernized identity, that provides a better quality of life for its’ people, albeit with a profound effect on the Korean cultural psyche. But what do I know? I just got here.
Bobbi Brown’s new icy, cool Chrome collection
I’m up for a new eyeshadow or lipstick any time of the year, but there’s something about the holidays that makes me prowl the cosmetics counters in search of something new. Maybe it’s because I’m usually buying gifts for everyone else, and a new lipstick or shadow is a little perk for putting up with the crowds and lack of parking spaces.
I’m especially tempted by the new Bobbi Brown Chrome holiday collection with its icy shimmering accents for eyes and lips. The palette includes 10 eye shadows, four lip shades, a Mini Eye Shadow Brush and a Mini Lip Brush.
Makeup artist Bobbi Brown also introduced three limited-edition Chrome products for lips — Port Lip Color, Chrome Metallic Lip Color and Plum Pearl Metallic Lip Color.
Bobbi Brown's new metallic Chrome lip colors.
The collection also includes the holiday Chrome Mini Brush Set, a zip-around case that features a Mini Face Blender, new Mini Angle Eye Shadow Brush and a Mini Eye Liner brush.
The Chrome Palette costs $75; the new metallic lipsticks, $22 each.
In Oklahoma City, Bobbi Brown is available at Balliet’s, 50 Penn Place, and Dillard’s in Penn Square Mall.
Click here to watch a video of Bobbi demonstrating and talking about the new collection.
Monday movie quote challenge #54
“Funny enough, I was just talking to my friend about that. Our speedometer has melted and as a result it’s very hard to see with any degree of accuracy exactly how fast we were going.”
Identify who said the above quote in what film in the comments!
