Darkly Dreaming Dexter

Contains spoilers from all seasons of the show.  Do not read if you do not want to know what happened.
Towards the end of when I lived in Massachusetts, I really had no one around me that I could count on for anything.  All of my friends lived in Boston or Springfield and never could seem to find the time (most of them, not all) to make the journey to Worcester. So when I wasn't working or studying for graduate school, TV and Internet were my friends.

My buddy Adam had previously recommended this new show called "Dexter" starring Michael C. Hall on Showtime.  I had watched the pilot with him, and my friends Christa and Dave.  It intrigued me, so when I was in Worcester in my apartment all alone every night (except for the cats, who would sit on the bed and watch with me), I rattled off Season 1 on demand. 

It was a tightly constructed, hour-long show that left plenty of twists in the wake of its mystery.  Dexter Morgan, a serial killer who goes by his own set of rules taught to him by his (now dead) father, Harry, also happens to work for the Miami Metro Homicide Division. Only those who deserve to die (i.e., committed crimes against innocent people) are to be killed. No exceptions. No one is aware of his secret life, even his own sister (adopted, not by blood).  It's a great show and I got out of the habit of watching it after season 3 ended, as I had just moved back to Delaware yes, with my parents. 

Dexter's sister, Deb

It wasn't until last year that I got back into it when my brother urged me to watch it again with him.  I still need to watch Season 4 at some point, but at least I knew who all the characters were so it wasn't difficult for me to jump right back into the storyline.

Season 5 was able, but it wasn't something I looked forward to watching each week quite as much as other shows, such as "True Blood" or "Mad Men."  But the story was strong enough to keep me interested.  However, I did stick it out until the end and was not completely disappointed.  Julia Stiles had a guest arc on this past season and she wore on me after a while like she always does.  Plus, it's tough to take someone whose big break came from light fare such as "The Prince and Me" and "Ten Things I Hate About You." 

Understandably, though, I was a little wary about this season of Dexter because I didn't know if the central mystery would be enough to maintain my interest.  It always seems to me that on "Dexter," they arrive at the conclusion a couple of episodes too soon and some of the rest of what happens is filler.  But so far this season, that has yet to happen.  I think there are three episodes left and we are just digging into the mystery after a major twist, which I will talk about soon. 

Some say that Dexter peaked and subsequently vallied after season 4, which featured the always interesting John Lithgow waltzing away with an acting Emmy for portraying the Trinity killer.  Maybe this is so, to a certain extent, but I think this season (6) has started a rally as its central mystery is intriguing. 

The central mystery of season 6 entails a moniker bestowed on the killer(s) by Deb: "The Doomsday Killer (DDK hereafter)."  Various tableaus of Biblical plagues and events in the Book of Revelation portending the end of the world.  While Miami Metro Homicide is trying to solve these cases, worse and worse killings (along with their subsequent tableaus) are occurring, making the department look bad.

This season, Marshall and Geller are shown working together in an old church trying to bring their tableaus together and thus bring about the end of the world. Travis, although conflicted, seems easily influenced by Geller.

Tableaus include the four horsemen of the apocalypse, the whore of Babylon, and the bowls of wrath.  The tableaus are very visceral and frankly, pretty creepy.  Dexter, forensic blood spatter expert and hidden resident serial killer, has narrowed the search down through work of his own (I will leave other subplots alone, even though they are interesting) who he thinks one of the killers might be.  His name is Travis Marshall, and he is an art restorer at the Miami Museum.  Dexter thinks he is a mentee of an Emeritus fanatical religious studies teacher, Professor Gellar.

Colin Hanks as Travis Marshall; Edward James Olmos as Professor Gellar

Dexter eventually guilts Travis into working to help him solve the DDK case by revealing information implicating Travis.  It appears that Travis is cooperating and they are close to tracking down Gellar.  Dexter hopes to do to Gellar what he has done with the rest of his victims: drug them with a shot to subdue and move them, and kill them on the table wrapped in Saran.  Yuck, but cathartic.  This must be done to stop the killings that have terrorized a city.

Travis and Dexter go inside the old church where Geller is masterminding his plots.  A noise is heard, and soon Travis and Dexter separate.  Dexter is determined to get Gellar.  He sees something that sparks his interest.  A possible trap door.  He moves the piece of furniture covering it and goes downstairs.  He turns on the lights and walks around.  Perhaps he smells something, but an appliance on the floor catches his attention.  He opens it and finds...Gellar. 

It appears that, like Dexter, Travis has a dark passenger and has been acting alone.  The conversations between Gellar and Marshall appear to have been figments of Marshall's imagination, much like Harry is to Dexter. 

I've always been fascinated by religion and this season of Dexter is using the interesting parts of Revelation to its advantage.  I certainly hope the finale is as exciting as others have been, and I'm curious to know how they will set up for next season.  Is it curtains for LaGuerta?  Deb?  Only Showtime will tell.

A Stand-Up Surprise

For my mom's birthday, I usually get her tickets to some sort of show or play.  This year, I decided to be a little bit different and get her tickets to a variety show.  This particular show was the national tour of the Rat Pack--the actual guys who do the same show in Vegas. 

The show took place at the DuPont Theatre in downtown Wilmington, which is located at the Hotel DuPont.  From what I've heard, the Hotel DuPont is a great place. 

Recent famous people to stay there include the 2008 Tampa Bay Rays (they thought they would be heading back to Tampa but the game got delayed and they had to change hotels.  No hotels in Philadelphia were available).  More currently, the Arizona Cardinals stayed there a few weeks ago when they were playing the Eagles. 

Eagles!

 The show was pretty cool and while each performer sang their most famous songs, I was surprised by the nice bit of stand-up comedy involved.  I love stand-up, even some of the more hokey, Vaudevillian kind.  So I thought for fun, I would re-publish a few of the jokes that I thought were funny.  Enjoy!

1. Dean Martin:

A Japanese businessman walks into a bank with $200 and hands it to the teller.  She gives him back 175 Yen, but he's not happy about it.

Businessman: How come you only gave me 175 Yen?  Yesterday I brought in $200 and you gave me 200 Yen.  What gives?

Teller: Fluctuations.

Businessman: Well, in that case, Fluc you white people too!

2. Dean Martin:

Teacher (to her class): How many of you are Philadelphia Eagles fans? 

(Everyone raises their hands, except for one girl.)

Teacher (to girl): Aren't you a Philadelphia Eagles fan?

Girl: No, I'm a Washington Redskins fan.

Teacher: Why's that?

Girl: Well, my mommy is a Washington Redskins fan, my daddy is a Washington Redskins fan, so I'm a Washington Redskins fan.

Teacher: Ya know, you don't have to be everything your mommy and daddy are.  If your mommy was a car thief and your daddy was a drug dealer, then what would you be?

Girl: I'd be a New York Giants fan.

3. Not part of the show, but one of my favorite lines from a Dean Martin Roast:

Don Rickles: I've got so much gas I'm being chased by Arabs.

4. Dean Martin: So I had a scare with the wife last week.  She found a piece of paper in my pants pocket when she was doing laundry.  It had the name Becky written on it.

Frank Sinatra: Oh boy.  What'd ya do?

Dean Martin: Had to think quick.  I told her I was at the track and I bet on Becky to win a race.

Frank Sinatra: That's smart there.  How's it been going since?

Dean Martin: It was fine until last week when out of nowhere she clobbered me over the head with a frying pan.

Frank Sinatra: Aw, jeez.  Why'd she do that?

Dean Martin: I don't know.  She just said 'Your horse called.'

5. Dean Martin: Cheers!

Frank Sinatra: I'll drink to that.

Sammy Davis Jr.: L'chaim!

Frank Sinatra: I've always wondered, what does that mean?

Sammy Davis Jr.: It means, to "life."

Dean Martin: That's funny.  Did you know Frank's brother is doing L'Chaim in Hoboken federal prison?

I hope you enjoyed these.  I couldn't remember all of them but those were some highlights.  More importantly, I hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving. Make sure to stuff yourselves with great food and enjoy the games!

The show involved

You wanna Break Bad?

Such is one of the early lines in the pilot episode for the television show "Breaking Bad."  It airs on AMC and has been on for a while at this point.  However, I just started watching it and I must say that I love it.  I don't know why I didn't watch it before. Maybe it was the haggard appearance of Bryan Cranston.

Most people remember him best from the hit TV show "Malcolm in the Middle" in which he played inept, mostly powerless Hal (if you recall, the show took pains never to reveal the family's last name, although some internet legends say it was Wilkerson).  This new role, however, is the complete opposite for him.

For those of you who do not know, "Breaking Bad" is a show about a man who goes by the alliterative name of Walter White. He is a chemistry teacher at a local high school in New Mexico who is recently diagnosed with lung cancer, despite never having smoked cigarettes in his life. He then turns to the drug trade to pay for his treatments. 

This tragedy takes quite a toll on the family once he finally decides to tell them; of particular importance in the show is both the emotional and financial toll taken on the family.  He and his wife, Skyler, are about to have a new daughter to add to their family.  They already have a son with mid-level cerebral palsy. 

Realizing the importance of the enormous amounts of money that his family is going to need ($90,000) for the chemotherapy treatments in the first year alone, Walter enlists the help of a former chemistry student ("Jesse Pinkman," played by Aaron Paul) he taught in order to "break bad."  They begin a partnership and Walter, using his knowledge of chemistry, is able to cook the purest batch of methamphetamine that is so clear, it looks like glass.  

Jesse and Walt (both last names are references to "Reservoir Dogs") begin an unlikely partnership where despite getting along for the most part, differences in age, culture, education, and life experience are often sources of discord.  Despite cooking up this supposedly excellent batch, they need to find a distributor, and Jesse thinks he has one.

Jesse drives the two people he think can help out to the desert and their meth cook spot.  But something goes wrong and bim bam boom, no more distributor.  But what to do with the bodies?  This show is very clever, and the dialogue is witty and sharp.  And who is going to distribute the meth now?

Bryan Cranston plays a man defeated who at some point just decides to say "fuck it" and take charge.  His character is bolder, does more dangerous things, and constantly puts himself in situations that any normal person might not even react to for fear of causing a fuss.

For example, when a hotshot lawyer on a cell phone sneaks in and takes a parking spot Walt was waiting to pull into at the bank and continues to be obnoxious on his phone in the bank, Walter does not act but clearly seethes.  Later on he happens to see the same guy stopped at a car wash.  He watches him go inside.  While the guy is waiting in line and still on his phone, Walter takes the squeegee in the bucket at one of the car wash lanes, opens the guy's hood, puts it on the battery, and walks away. Boom.

Isn't it all of our fantasies to do something like that to someone?  Although we never would, right?
Walt cares too much about his family and knows he has nothing to lose.  He acts boldly, decisively, and swiftly, which is the opposite of how he was before he was diagnosed with cancer. Coupled with Jesse, his foil, a brother-in-law DEA agent who is onto the trail of a "new" group of meth-cookers (and basically thinks Walt's a wuss, so he does not even suspect him)  and whose wife is a cleptomaniac, the characters make the show interesting. 

However, the best parts of the show are when Walt and Jesse are scheming and bickering together because that truly makes the show.  So take a look if you're interested.  It's well worth your while.

A Novel Ending?

I've spoken about the tough economy before, and the impact it's had upon all of us as not only Americans but also world citizens.  Even the chief of the IMF just said that unless fiscal policies in countries change drastically, this entire decade could be "lost" economically.

Well, I certainly don't want that to happen and I know neither do any of you, so I thought for fun I would begin doing something I love so much and wanted to be when I grew up: a writer.  It's all about making it big.

I do write on this blog and I enjoy it, but it's not the same as actually sitting down to write a short story or novella, as I would like to do.  That being said, since I'm so tired of these poor economic conditions, being overworked and underpaid, I am going to do it.  A boy can dream, right?

I want my piece of the pie and I hope that this story is good enough to spark some interest.  I'd love to see it be turned into a movie as well, but let's take this slowly.  Success doesn't happen overnight (unless you're Diablo Cody and happen upon lightning in a bottle after working as a glorified stripper).

I'm writing this because I enjoy it and it's everyone's fantasy to have all the money in the world so that neither we nor our families have to worry about anything again. 

After having a phone conversation with my mom the other day and hearing how stressed out she is, knowing my sister is stressed out between her work and her impending (even though it's a year off, that time will be here before you know it) wedding, I thought I'd go back to the writing well. 

It's part whimsy, part seriousness, but wouldn't it be great to sell a novel and make some bank to help your family and yourself?  It could be just like the Jeffersons.  They wanted a piece of the pie and ended up on the East Side.  However, I had to ask myself: what kind of story would I write? 

To write a good story, you need to keep people interested.  You also need to have more dialogue than description, otherwise the story can slow down.  My 10th grade English teacher said it best when discussing The Scarlet Letter:  "Admit it.  When you were reading that, you cringed when you saw long, descriptive paragraphs.  When you saw the dialogue, though, you were glad because you knew it would go by more quickly."

She was absolutely right, although I guess the same could be said about any book.  Unless you like lengthy descriptions of things.  Let's see...lots of dialogue, suspense, action, and perhaps other vices?  I have just the story.  Although the novella (if it gets that long, but I guess I won't know until I start writing it) itself will be based on a semifictionalized series of events that befell me one week in New York City.

This is not the New York City you are thinking of. This is the New York City you warn your children about. You tell them to be careful.  You tell them many things.  But do they listen?

Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t go out late at night by yourself. If you’re in a strange city, don’t go unaccompanied. Most importantly, never go with strangers.  No matter how well-intended they might seem.

We will begin the tale in Massachusetts; it will shift to Washington Heights. And later to the underbelly of sin and vice. The story may seem pretty normal initially. But appearances can be deceiving. We all have our dirty laundry.

Find out what happens when a white guy out of his element descends upon the dark, sinister streets of northern Manhattan and the Bronx after hours. When the cops have gone. When no one cares. And when the sharks are out.

I haven't forgotten about HuskyTaco, though, and will still be posting entries here.  But the entries here are going to be more about movies, TV, and other things I've written about before. 

But seriously if you're interested in what I am writing, it's on another blog channel.  If you want the URL, let me know.  Otherwise you'll have to wait until publishing!

The Pussification of American Men

I will be the first to admit that I am not the manliest man in the world.  However, I am getting better.  I also realized that, compared with American males of Generation X, I'm actually not all that much of a wuss. 

I don't know what it is about American society today, but guys have definitely lost some macho mojo.  I'm not saying that every guy has to go to work manual labor every day, come home and eat a bloody steak for dinner, and then go play pick-up basketball at the courts up the street.

I am referring to assertiveness, both in groups and individually.  That seems to be a lost art among men of my generation.  Again, I am not the most assertive person ever, but I am making efforts to get better at it.  Assertiveness also has to do with the ability to make decisions.  In groups, no one likes the asshole who says "We are doing X.  Anyone who doesn't think we should can stay home.  And I drive or else no one does."  Nobody likes that person.  In those situations, gently suggest, and discuss. 

I also am talking about being assertive with your own problems.  Don't ask someone else what they think you should do, unless you truly need a second opinion and it's something big.  Guys annoy me with this one, particularly since I work in a community college.  I overhear conversations between guys all the time: "Oh, my girlfriend got mad at me when I didn't remember our anniversary.  Like, what should I do?" How about, man up and make up for it? 

Think about the problem or situation, assess strengths and weaknesses, and make a decision that is best not only for you but also others affected by such a decision.  Perhaps some of this inability to make decisions by men of my generation stems from the fact that fathers did not instill these ideas in their children from a young age, or perhaps my generation failed to learn by example.

                                                                       Take my grandfather Howard, for instance.  Now there was a man's man.  He taught me many practical things as a man that I should know.  He taught me how to change a tire.  How to fish.  How to be polite when interacting with others but also to be firm when you need to be.  He taught me how to hunt, and he helped teach me to play golf.  He also tacitly taught me the importance of how to make a decision and be ok with it.

When I was in fifth grade, I had forgotten to bring my gym clothes at school.  He was the only person I could call because everyone else was busy.  I called him and explained the situation.  I asked if he would bring me my clothes because otherwise I would get a non-participating grade for the day.  I poured on the charm and he came back with a calm, big, fat no.  He explained that he and my grandmother had other plans that day elsewhere, and he could not.  He was firm but nice.  And in hindsight, I'm glad. 

But more importantly: I manned up, admitted I made a mistake, and moved on.  He helped show me that it was my own fault and not a big deal in the long-run of life. 

Nowadays, though, everything is always someone else's fault.   It makes me angry.  With many guys today it's always "But I didn't know..." "Well, someone else told me X so it's their fault." "Well, you're the one who told me to..." It's awful, the lack of accountability.  And laughable.  Either their parents didn't teach them or they've been raised in a magical world where nothing is anyone's fault.  MAN UP!



Most guys these days don't have los cojones to admit that, gasp, they might have done something wrong.  God forbid.  Again, I don't know whether this is because baby boomer generation men see things this way, or if it simply certain people in my small worldview.  But admit your mistake.  Be more assertive.  A real man does not always carry the need to be right. Being a man means recognizing when we err, and taking our best lesson from the experience.

I have been teaching a new class for the past three weeks.  I took attendance one last time after an exam to make sure that I didn't mark anyone as a "no-show" (meaning the computer kicks them out of my class if I indicate they have not attended).  After I got through the list, a guy raised his hand and said "This is the eighth class we've had, and you didn't call my name yet." 

I answered, "I'm sorry I didn't call your name, but were you going to say anything?  Or were you just going to ignore it and let me mark you as a no-show?  So then once you found out you were a no-show, you'd make me fill out a form to readmit you to the class?" 

It was a tad bitchy yes, and the person didn't like it, but tough shit.  I admitted I made a mistake in not asking if there were any names not on my list.  But the lack of ability to speak up irked me.  If you went to a class where the teacher took attendance and your name wasn't called, wouldn't you say something?

Thanks for reading!