The Oscars, Shaq and Conan [The Weekend that Was]

Friends, it seems we've developed a bit of a pattern here at Schiff Happens:

1. Blog a bunch of shit during the week
2. Promise to self and/or SH Faithful to continue our unparalleled coverage and commentary over the weekend.
3. Completely neglect weekend.
4. Return Monday with too much to discuss and more empty promises to self and/or SH Faithful to improve weekend posting habits.
5. ...............
6. Profit.

On the one hand, I should have no excuse for basically ignoring this space over the weekends, especially since I have more than my share of free time during these freezing cold, winter-in -New-York lazy Sunday weekends. On the other hand, I don't get paid for this shit, so if you have a problem with my business model then step up and show me the money. Until then, Step 6 is 'Profit' and that's the story I'm sticking with. Right now, a few things that happened over the weekend.

Hail King Shaq, High King and Protector of Twitteronia I recently declared that I had joined Shaq Fu's legion of twitterputian followers in the hopes of connecting with the Big Fella whom I hold in such high esteem (shameless follow me plug). I tweeted his way a few times, not expecting any response, just to let him know that he had yet another admirer. Not two days later, the Big Tweet was reaching out to his people:

"Incredible!" I thought to myself. I replied, wanting to know how many people mob the Big Shaqtus when he posts his location like that, and moments later came another tweet:

If anyone were to doubt the realness of THE_REAL_SHAQ, clearly this post would offer definitive proof. Someone had to respond to this call to arms from the Twitter King himself, and sure enough, people did. Not long after that, Lord Shaq addressed the Twitterpeople one final time with an official decree:

To me, this is just one more example of how Shaq gets it. What other pro athlete puts himself out there like that and actually backs it up? I like to think that this is a response to my homage, albeit indirect. I reached out to the Diesel, and he reached out to the people. Of course, his most recent tweet should not be construed in any way as a response to yours truly.

Come on, Shaq! We all know that toilet texting (or twittering) is the quickest way to lose a phone. I guess it's true what has been said through the ages: For every king, a throne. Long live THE_REAL_SHAQ, King of Twitteronia.

The reports of Conan's death are greatly exaggerated On Friday night, the world bid farewell to Conan O'Brien...sort of. It was Conan's final show as host of Late Night before he takes over for Jay Leno in LA on The Tonight Show. As Conan tore apart his set to give to the crowd, welcomed back Andy Richter and reflected on his long, strange Late Night trip, I understood his emotion, but in the back of my mind I couldn't help but think, "This is effing stupid. He's not really going anywhere - he's just moving to a different time and coast. You don't even have to change the channel!" I do need to commend Conan for his heartfelt farewell, thanks-for-the-memories address toward the end of the show, during which he became obviously choked up and revealed a side of himself that fans generally don't get to see behind his zany antics. As I've been in the habit of wildly praising celebrities for doing so, I'd be sort of a hypocrite not to in this case. However, I'm glad I'm not the only one questioning the funeral of these last few shows. Conan deserves to and should reflect emotionally over the transition, but it just doesn't affect me all that much as a consumer.
The biggest impact I'll feel from the move is now I'll be getting the inside info from Smellson on Jimmy Fallon's musical guests instead of Conan's. Speaking of which, you can totally spot our boy in the big crew photo they showed toward the end of the broadcast. I'll post a screen grab later and you guys can play "Where's Pel?" Actually, Mr. Pel had a decent story of his first and only interaction with Conan. Having introduced himself and explained his role in music licensing to Conan, Pel looked on in wide-eyed wonder as the host of Late Night smiled and said, "Oh, so you're that dick!" Nobody deserves it more than you, my friend.
As far as the actual episode itself, a few quick thoughts. I thought Will Ferrell did a great job and contained all the things I usually hate about him. Ever since Bonnaroo '06, John Mayer has delightfully surprised me - awesome job by him on his "LA's Gonna Eat You Alive" send-off for Conan. I enjoyed the White Stripes and thought that their song choice and delivery was appropriate for what seemed to be a legitimately moving moment for them and Conan, even if we know that they could have rocked Studio 6A to the ground had they so chosen. Finally, Conan played our favorite clip of all time! Better still, he introduced it as his favorite thing he's ever done. Clearly we have great taste.

The White Stripes perform "We're Going to be Friends" on the Late Night with Conan O'Brien finale.


And the Oscar goes to...who cares, you haven't seen any of this shit Every year I get suckered into the Oscars thinking I'll find something new to enjoy despite not having seen any of the movies. Nope. Wrong again. Springsteen was snubbed for Best Original Song long before Sunday night, and there were obvious shenanigans afoot as his buddy Mickey Rourke was hosed for Best Actor. Yea, I formulate opinions without seeing the actual work. Wanna fight about it? The best moments were Ben Stiller having a go at Joaquin Phoenix and Seth Rogen and James Franco's Pineapple Express-inspired look back at the year in comedy. I always preferred them in Freaks and Geeks myself.
The one silver lining this year was that Twitter made the show bearable, specifically the hilarious running commentary of Kevin Pollak. If I didn't have his sardonic, bitterness-infused, 140-character jokes to keep me company, there's no way I'm staying up late enough to see the entire city of Mumbai accept the Best Picture award for Slumdog Millionaire. Slumdog, incidentally, was the only "Oscar buzz" movie I saw this year - besides The Dark Knight, but, you know, that doesn't count because it's a superhero movie. FML - so maybe it's because I have no basis for comparison, but before last night, I hadn't considered that people might have actually not liked the movie. Yet there were my roommate and his girlfriend, returning from the theater as the awards were just beginning, telling me they weren't huge fans and trying to understand what the big deal was. While I enjoyed it, it's hard to read this and not find yourself agreeing with a whole bunch of it. But that's America - we're still gonna go for the underdog love story every time.

That's why you have to root for me, America. I may be sloppy on weekends, but with your support - Please make my day and weigh in on any of this stuff. I'd truly love to hear your opinions - my underdog story will have a happy ending that you saw coming miles away but gets you all choked up anyway. And then, on that glorious day....

...Profit.

The Boss is back! (As if he ever left)

Bruce decided to take most of last week off and let us all catch our breath after his PR blitz leading up to the Super Bowl frenzy and the Crotch Heard Round the World (gonna be a long time before that one gets old) necessitated a massive recap of all his activities. He showed up for a minute to post his Super Bowl Journal on his official page, which alone is worth revisiting for its sheer brilliance (That's your cue to go check it out if you showed up late to the party. Don't worry, we'll still be here when you're done). Luckily, in the week since, The Boss has returned to his usual headline-grabbing, so we have a little bit more material to run through this week than a single-item recap, which I suppose wouldn't be much of a recap at all but more like a repost, which seems a bit redundant. What the hell was I talking about?

Is there anybody ALIVE out there???

Oh, right. Thanks, Boss. As I was attempting to say before I went all ADD, my Google reader was alive this week with all manner of Bruceness, so it is once again time to bring you the most fist-pumping feature in the history of these here interwebs and review the week that was in Bruce news. As per last time, we'll rate each item on a scale of one to five Rockin New Jersey Fist Pumps. Five Jersey Fists if the story makes you want to powerslide into someone's face, one Jersey Fist if the story is so miserable that you'd rather listen to Bon Jovi than read about it ::Imagines actually wanting to listen to Bon Jovi. Punches self in face with solitary Jersey Fist::
(Quick side note, I'm going to need a sweet name for these Jersey Fist Bruce Springsteen recaps if the guy is gonna keep making news. "Keeping Up With The Boss?" "Fist Week Ever?" Help me out here, people).

First things first, Pitchfork Media's interview series with up-and-coming, youngish artists about how Springsteen has influenced them has expanded and is now being hosted on Bruce's official site under the title "Hangin Out on E Street" (apparently I'm not the only one who needs help thinking of titles). Jersey guys the Gaslight Anthem, Ted Leo, Bouncing Souls and Schiff Happens inspiration Wyclef Jean - as well as some other folks who, though talented, can't say they hail from the great Garden State - talk about The Boss and then play a cover of one of his tunes. The point of the thing is to show how Bruce's influence has widened beyond the scope of mainstream rock. I've never been much for indie rock, but I'm all for this. It's just one more talking point for Springsteen fans when the non-Jersey people and the too-hip-for-you-old-man indie kids continue to fail or be unwilling to understand the magnitude of Springsteen's appeal, influence and legend. Face it, indie kids - The Hold Steady made it cool to dig Bruce, and if you don't like it, here's 3 Jersey Fists right in your face. Now wash your damn hair and put a smile on your face you miserable skinny jeans wearing fuck. (Scoring Note: This would have been a 4-Fister, but apparently BruceSpringsteen.net doesn't have much of a budget for acoustics quality control).


Next on the Bruce Watch, Springsteen debuted his video for "The Wrestler" about 2 months too late to prevent the Oscars from snubbing him for Best Original Song. I still have yet to see the movie but I truly do dig this song, and not just because it's simple enough to play that even I can strum along with it on guitar, but because I can't help but get choked up by toned-down acoustic Bruce singing sad songs about one-legged dogs and melancholy characters searching for meaning in this lonely life when society has turned its back on you. I also get emotional for run-on sentences. The fact that the Oscars so obviously effed up by snubbing Bruce and only nominating three songs is made all the more hilarious by Peter Gabriel's refusal to perform his “Down To Earth” from Wall-E in protest of the ceremony's 65-second-per-song rule. Now the Oscars are left with only a pair of Slumdog Millionaire tunes and are so desperate for performers that they've begged offered to let new mum M.I.A. perform Slumdog's "O Saya" from "some sort of fabulous bed on stage." An outdated awards show blatantly effs up and Bruce has the last laugh? That'll get you 4 Jersey Fists every time.


Meanwhile, while we were watching "The Wrestler" video, Bonnaroo posted live Springsteen videos on its web site - "Thunder Road" from Live in New York City and "Promised Land" from Live in Barcelona. There's absolutely nothing here that can't be purchased from your local public television station for a recession-friendly donation of only $200 - hey, at least it's a tax write-off - but it validates this pipe dream that I had that Bruce Springsteen and the legendary E Street Band were headlining freakin' Bonnaroo (BOSSaroo? BonnaRUUCE?) this summer! New Jersey 'Roo domination is the ultimate hype generator around here, so for that we give this one 3 Jersey Fists (if only because the videos themselves really are nothing new) as we are compelled to ask again, "Who's comin with me?"


Finally, Point Blank alerted us to upcoming albums that feature The Boss, which wouldn't necessarily matter one way or another except that one of those albums belongs to none other than Bernie Williams! Before Bernie became a superstar musician, he patrolled centerfield for the Dynasty Yankees, and his penchant for clutch hits launched a new era of awful John Sterling home run call nicknames. Bernie's new album "Moving Forward," due out April 14, includes a live version of "Glory Days" recorded with The Boss himself at Joe Torre's Safe At Home benefit in November 2007. Bruce and Bernie, the Bombers and The Boss together? Are there any 2 more dominating, legendary figures in their respective fields than Springsteen and the Yankees? More importantly, is there any combination more apt to stir Schiff Happens into a screaming, fist-pumping lather? Bruce cedes the floor to that other Boss, as this one gets an obvious 5 Jersey Fists.