This easiest way to answer this question is by process of elimination. For my Siamese twin, I would have to choose someone that is a) of the same sex; b) of the same sexual orientation; c) of the same race; and d) someone that is more enjoyable than annoying. Obviously, that would exclude all female celebs, all gay/bisexual celebs, all non-white celebs, and Dane Cook (note: I hated to exclude all females and non-whites, but the question would be difficult because I don’t know what it is like to be anything but a white boy). Next, understanding the difficulties of Siamese-coordination, I would have to eliminate all athletes and musicians (except for pianist and drummers- which would be cool by the way). Ultimately, this question becomes: Which celebrity do you feel is most like yourself?
CC, this is one of those really deep, introspective and self-examining questions that tells you more about yourself than anything else. I say this because if you were a Siamese twin you would be permanently connected to that person forever (assuming advanced medicine cannot separate the two of you). You would spend 100% of your time, asleep and awake, with the same person. This question is not too much different from your previous mailbag when you decided the one T.V. channel you would watch if you were trapped in a dungeon and limited to one TV station- in the long run you would prefer something dynamic (like TBS) versus something static (like ESPN).
In that sense, my answer is Paul Newman. Besides being a great actor and film director, Mr. Newman had a military background, loved auto racing and cars, he was very resourceful, he had a politically left-leaning mind, married a girl from Greenville, South Carolina, and became one of the world’s most well-respected, successful and philanthropic persons of his generation. He was truly a Renaissance Man. Now, I am not saying that I am any of these things, but that sure sounds like someone I would like to be connected to.
1) Be creative, but don’t insist on having unique name: There are 46 college teams named the “Tigers.” LSU is yellow and purple; Clemson is orange and white; Princeton is orange and black. They have the same name, but the traditions built around them are quite different. There is nothing wrong in going with Tigers over something ridiculous like UC-Santa Cruz “Banana Slugs.”
2) If you have to be unique, then choose a sensible name that has a local interest: Think, Pittsburgh Steelers / Green Bay Packers. Two of the all-time greats. It’s not that hard. Before Greenville Braves, and before my hometown went crazy with unique names, we had the Greenville Spinners (named such because, at the time, we were the textile capital of the world). There is absolutely no reason that Richmond should have a team nicknamed the Flying Squirrels.
- Quick sidebar: Should your team move to a new town, please, for the love of the Pete, give up your nickname. I hate the Utah Jazz and the LA Lakers. It is just complete and utter nonsense.
3) Stick with a noun. No verbs, adverbs, onomonopia. Use adjectives sparingly. Since the Greenville Braves left town, we have seen a slew of gawd-awful names that violate this rule. The Greenville Grrrowl (official spelling), Greenville Groove, Greenville Drive. Eeek.
4) Remember that your team mascot can be different from your nickname: The Phoenix Suns are a great example here. Instead of trying to personify a ball of fire, they put a gorilla in a team uniform and gave him a trampoline. Everyone, to this day, including me, loves that gorilla. Problem solved.
Using these four easy steps, I have come up with the Greenville Cherokees. “Gee Cee,” for short, seems to roll off the tongue well, and the initials would look good on a ballcap. Obviously, we would be affiliated with the Atlanta Braves. Being in close proximity to the Atlanta team would give the hometown people incentive to cheer for the rising stars of their favorite MLB club. Team colors would stay pretty much the same, so no one would be forced into buying team apparel that doesn’t coordinate. Also, we would get to retain the use of the “tomahawk chop,” a cornerstone of the franchise. I love team mascots that find a way to incorporate hand-signals to show fan allegiance. When you ask someone in Texas or Florida “who do you cheer for?” they simply give you the Hook’em Horns or the Gator Chomp. Enough said. The same goes for the tomahawk chop and Braves fans.
Finally, as for the promotions for my new ball club, I would make the Greenville Cherokees the first franchise that has people take the First Bat. Instead of inviting honored guests to throw out the First Pitch, I would give them a bat and let them take three swings. Think about it: Fans would come early to see celebrities take a few cuts; every time someone strikes-out or hits a homerun ESPN would run non-stop highlights; local sportstalk radio would analyze every hit the next day; and inevitably there will be several legendary hits and one corked-bat scandal. The upside to such a promo would have no ceiling.
Q: If you were given the power to rewrite any TV show that you thought had potential but wasn't quite good enough to be called a classic, which show would you change and what would you make different?
Karen R., Columbia, SC: An interesting question because there are so many reasons a show either dies outright or fails to become a classic. And because it forces me to admit I watch way too much TV.
First, you have the category of shows that are – on their face – such colossally bad ideas that it boggles the mind they ever got made. No amount of brilliant acting, writing, or direction will save them. Shows like Small Wonder – a little robot girl who lives in a cabinet in the inventor’s home and has wacky misadventures with the inventor’s flamingly gay young son. Or Manimal – a college professor who can turn into any number of animals in an effort to fight crime. Seriously. And who can forget Homeboys in Outer Space – thank you UPN for green-lighting the idea of putting two young brothers in space and having them fly around in the Space Hoopty, looking for action. The underlying concepts of these shows are so bad, I don’t think they can be rehabbed.
Second, you’ve got shows with a great concept but poor execution. Invasion – this show had it all. Alien/human hybrids! Government conspiracies! The strange but inexplicably hot William Fitchner! But the show attempted to imitate Lost with vague mysteries and “this means something, this is important” pronouncements and got bogged down. But this category’s poster child is Party of Five. Hands down. Man, I could go on and on about the wasted potential of the show about 5 orphans and their struggles after their parents’ sudden death. Sure, the premise is depressing. But it had good roster of actors, all of whom are pretty likeable (except for the later addition of Jennifer Love Hewitt). And it was on Fox during the same period as BH 9’er, so there was potential to have issue-of-the-week stories handled without losing the show’s lightness. Boy, did that not happen. That show got dark. DARK. Charlie’s a womanizer (who later gets cancer). Bailey’s a drunk. Julia gets the snot beat out of her by her boyfriend. Claudia’s anxiety lead to her sleeping in a tent in the dining room for at least an entire season. Owen ends up as the object of a bitter custody battle between Charlie-the-cancer-survivor-
Then you have shows that are brilliant in idea and execution. And the network steps in and smothers the show in its sleep. Usually through the lethal combination of poor/ever-changing timeslots and shoddy promotion. Fox is legendary in this regard. They axed shows like Kitchen Confidential, Firefly, Keen Eddie, and Arrested Development for no reason – other than that they wanted more time for crap like Idol. But Fox is not alone – NBC killed Freaks and Geeks, CW offed Veronica Mars, and CBS murdered Pushing Daisies. These shows will never become traditional classics, but they all totally rule so I won’t touch them. But you guys should totes check them out on Hulu.
And you have the category of shows that had an interesting premise and promising first couple of seasons, then took a wrong turn and ended up unwatchable. Heroes is a huge offender in this category – great concept, good actors, interesting characters. Then they introduced so many new characters, motivations, and conspiracies that the show lost focus. And, as much as it pains me to write this, Alias also sort of fits in this category. The first, second, and (parts of) the fifth seasons were fantastic but seasons three and four were almost unbearable. Too much Vaughn, no more Will, less ass-kicking, more angsty weeping, and entirely TOO MUCH focus on Rambaldi. But the shows in this category have such strong roots, I wouldn’t want to trash them and start from scratch.
Which leads me to the show I’ve chosen to gut and re-do. NCIS. I know! Its successful and spawned a spin-off starring Mr. James Smith, whom the ladies love. But. You guys? Have you ever watched this show? It is awful. I recently spent the better part of a day watching an NCIS marathon on USA. Listen, I was sick and had misplaced the remote. Little did I know that after I put it on USA and fell onto the couch, I’d be too ill to get up and change the channel. If I had known, I’d have chosen an all-day marathon of those toddler beauty pageant documentaries that freak me out.
NCIS was a great idea for a procedural-type show. It would center on the unique cases arising in the military system. And it would focus on the crime-solving aspect of procedurals instead of the legal issues. Which would avoid the courtroom yawn-fest that dragged down JAG (which had its own problems – what do you mean the Navy is not actually riddled with lawyers that are also combat pilots?). Aaaaand then the concept is trashed by lazy writing. Mark Harmon plays the boss, Gibbs. I find Mark Harmon to be pretty likeable. I mean, have you seen Summer School? With Chainsaw and Dave? And an almost unrecognizable Kirstie Alley? But Gibbs is a humorless, insufferable, self- righteous character who is always right. This makes for boring TV, people. Why bother with an investigation? When Gibbs pegs Mr. X as the villain by minute 3, just go ahead and arrest him. The overgrown frat boy named Tony (played by Michael Weatherly, who was the dreamy Logan character on Dark Angel) is supposed to be a great investigator, but he appears to be around for no other reason than to make rude comments to his coworkers about their personal lives. Oh, and to make a series of film references. Then there’s Ziva who is apparently on loan to NCIS from Mossad. She’s supposed to be a trained assassin who speaks in stilted English (She doesn’t use contractions?! Like a robot?! How funny!). Also? We have exchange programs for assassins? And there’s the doughy McGee. He’s a computer nerd, so he’s clearly a social leper! He’s also capable of McGuyvering computer programs in 3 minutes with a kazoo and a walkie talkie. Abby the lab tech is qualified to test anything and everything that could ever be recovered from a crime scene. Come on! Even the dorks over at CSI have their specialties. Abby is written as being Goth – or at least what middle America would believe Goth to be – because she has black hair and tattoos. The interwebs have informed me that she also drives a hearse and has a coffin that she may or may not sleep in. Good grief. She is super-annoying, which is not helped by the fake techno music that usually plays in the background while she’s chirping about some test or other that she’ll run for her beloved Gibbs. And the doctor is a British dude who usually ends up telling some boring story or other in the course of reporting autopsy results. Like a less awesome Higgins.
I acknowledge I’m painting with broad strokes here – but this is the way these characters were written in every single episode that I saw on that long, long day. And the formula has worked well for the NCIS writing team – crime occurs, Gibbs grouses and there is talk of his gut instinct, Tony makes a snide comment, there is teasing of McGee about his nerdishness, Ziva makes a cultural faux pas, Abby bends the laws of God and man in arriving at some impossible scientific result, the doctor tells a boring story, and Gibbs is ultimately proven correct. Ta-dah! I have just written a skeleton for all future NCIS scripts. You’re welcome NCIS writing team. But America clearly loves procedurals – there’s no reason they have to be so damn boring and predictable. So my solution to this crapfest is pretty simple. The writers should get off their lazy asses and write the characters as characters and not caricatures. Let them be flawed. Let there be a surprise ending every once in a while.
