David Wadler’s Assorted Thoughts

I understand that a record label puts a substantial amount of resources — time, money, and whatever else — into recording and promoting an album. Furthermore, I recognize that recording artists generally know the deal. Touring, interviewing — it’s all part of the game. Fine. But when does the label decide to cut its losses?

Courtney Love’s erratic behavior is well-documented. Having said that, her recent escapades are noteworthy nonetheless, and mind you, the bar has been substantially raised in her case. In less than two days, she was late for a court date where she faced drug possession charges, rambled to David Letterman on national television (and flashed him, but that is becoming her modus operandi and barely merits a mention at this point), and then was arrested on assault charges later that night.

I don’t know if this makes a great movie, but it sure looks like a fantastic after school special.

INT. CALIFORNIA SUPERIOR COURT DAYTIME

SUPERIOR COURT JUDGE ELDEN FOX IS SPEAKING IN THE BACKGROUND. THE CAMERA IS ON COURTNEY AND WE HEAR WHAT SHE HEARS — MUMBLING. COURTNEY INTERRUPTS.

                                                          COURTNEY
                                I have the pill bottles on me.

SHE PAUSES AND TURNS TO HER LAWYER, MICHAEL ROSENSTEIN AND SAYS…

                                                          COURTNEY (CONT’D)
                                You’re fired.

                                                          JUDGE FOX
                                Miss Love, you’re not doing yourself any favors.

COURTNEY LOOKS AT JUDGE FOX AND THEN BACK AT HER LAWYER WHERE SHE FIXES HER GAZE.

                                                          COURTNEY
                                Rehired.

                                                                                                               FADE OUT:

I don’t know how this is going to help record sales and it certainly seems like Love would be better off in rehab, or therapy, or at home, or at a friend’s house, or in solitary, or on vacation, or just about anywhere other than a public venue where she is being put on display. She’s not guiltless; Love readily admits that she has long thirsted for fame (infamy?) and her drive for celebrity status has been echoed by many who have crossed paths with her. It’s too bad because she’s not completely untalented. (Hardly a ringing endorsement, I realize, but she’s not Mariah Carey vocally, or Meryl Streep dramatically.) I suspect that being seen not as Courtney Love, but as Kurt Cobain’s widow will haunt her for a long time.

Briefly
In other news, I saw Tim Robbins’s play Embedded this evening. I was surprisingly intrigued by it. I arrived early and was waiting for a friend and I started chatting with this woman. Turns out she’s a - gasp! - working actress! Dagmara Dominczyk is her name and she was nice and unprepossessed, which was pleasantly surprising.

Richard Branson is at it again. The Virgin founder, visionary, and my all-time favorite businessman has outfitted the men’s rooms in the Virgin Airways Clubhouse (John F. Kennedy airport, Terminal 4) with urinals that look like they were modeled on the mouth of a gigantic, yet sexy women. (Think Daryl Hannah in Attack of the 50 Foot Woman.) Indirectly, I suppose we have Bill Clinton to thank for this. Prior to his presidency, I don’t know if a man could have inserted his penis into a woman’s mouth and remained a virgin.

If peeing into a giant replica mouth doesn’t do it for you, you can still enjoy an experience that’s uniquely Virgin. Computers abound, there’s a free-standing waterfall, day beds, and snacks — essentially everything to which the business traveler has (or will be) accustomed. I wonder if they’ll let me hang out in the lounge even if I have no occasion to fly….

He’s So Dot Over It
Say it ain’t so. While evidence of the dotcom demise still abounds, the latest news brings with it a finality that hundreds of Chapter 11s couldn’t. DotComGuy is no longer; the onetime Mitch Maddox is not only selling his domain name, but is also going to reclaim his birth name.

What’s Old Is New Again
Doug Herzog has come back to the Comedy Central family, returning after stints at Fox and USA. The ostensible humor destination for cable channel surfers, Comedy Central has a bizarre hodgepodge of the funny, not so funny, and “how did that ever make it to air?” Herzog’s contributions to society include greenlighting “South Park,” “Monk,” and the oft-imitated, but never duplicated “Joe Millionaire.” This is the man who introduced “the other Australian Paul Hogan” to America and put Evan Marriott on the map. Surely Comedy Central sees bringing Herzog back into the fold as a great coup, particularly as the competition heats up with the Game Show Network’s launch of “Fake-A-Date,” hosted by….Evan Marriott.

An Equitable Test
In a recent interview, Curt Schilling explained that he would be willing to take as many drug tests as is necessary, provided Major League Baseball doesn’t insist on holding the cup. Fair enough. In fact, I don’t think that any of the professional sports leagues should be in the business of developing and implementing drug tests. The league in question, in this case MLB, should exercise its authority not by collecting specimens, but by managing the punitive component of the policy. It’s outside of baseball’s core competency to implement a testing program. To that end, the commissioner should engage organizations like WADA or USADA — organizations that specialize in drug testing — to handle the (pun intended) dirty work. (Full disclosure: my father is a member of WADA’s Health, Medical and Research Committee.)

Don’t Call It a Comeback
Last night, I got a double-dose of reality during NBC’s 10:00 time slot. Adam’s back, giving hope to guys everywhere that one day they may find themselves on television with the power to reject the comeliest women. I was fortunate to enjoy the premiere of Average Joe: Adam Returns in the company of none other than Adam Mesh himself. To be fair, I wasn’t alone. There were probably a couple hundred of Mr. “I Guess I’m Not So Average Now, Huh”’s most intimate acquaintances with their eyes glued to giant, less-than-flattering monitors. I made sure that I periodically cast my gaze in the direction of the star to gauge his reactions. He’s a happy guy. Despite a few blushing episodes, he maintained a seemingly permanent smile for well over an hour-and-a-half.

Although the producers of the show decided to bestow 15 additional minutes of fame on a variety of Adam’s season one “friends,” Zach was especially conspicuous in his absence in light of his presence at the viewing party. During the first iteration of “Average Joe,” I had it on good authority that Zach and Adam were at least acquaintances, and possibly reasonably good friends. Zach’s attendance at last night’s event lent credence to that. But the producers ostensibly opted to put the preliminary selection of the women in the hands of guys with whom Adam probably has no relationship beyond the show. And while I have my suspicions that the “Joes” had any meaningful say in the winnowing process, I find it interesting that they were granted another opportunity to endear themselves to the viewing public. Zach, on the other hand, was strictly a member of said public.

His Purpleness
Prince was in town last night for his induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. After the ceremony, he was slated to do a show at a small club on the west side of Manhattan. Amid rumors that he was going to retire his 80s hits on his impending tour, I figured that this would be my last opportunity to hear him perform songs from Purple Rain.

My girlfriend got the tickets and we figured that the show would start a little after midnight. She was told that doors opened at 11:00 PM and that the show would start an hour later. We were not prepared to do what we did, which was stand outside in the cold (and wind) for more than 2 hours. Not long after we walked into the club at 1:30 AM and began thawing, Prince came on stage. I can only judge this by the crowd’s reaction as the angles of the wall and location of the performance area limited seeing Prince only to those who found themselves in the first 4 or 5 rows of people. We were not in the group.

We were, in fact, in the middle of the pack - something that became rather disconcerting as people packed in behind us. Before long, we were all pushed together, a stew of contorted limbs and craned necks being pushed hither and thither. From what I understand, the fire department came and “suggested” that treating people like sardines was a fire hazard. (Yes, I had flashbacks to the tragic Great White concert.) The second floor was opened and we headed upstairs. Even there, people crowded and pushed against plexiglass just to watch a short, skinny, hairy guy gyrate while singing. Although this was of interest to me, I thought it best to hang back. After all of that, Prince mostly performed newer songs, although we left on a high note, immediately after “Kiss.”