First of all, I’m thrilled that my team, the New York Giants, won the big game once again. You go, boys in blue! Congrats on a great team effort.

Second, the whole day of coverage was actually a pleasure to watch. And trust me, watch I did! From 9AM-midnight! I get really into this stuff, especially when it’s my team in the mix. NBC did a great job, for the most part. There were no reporters I hated and the whole thing really moved along.

Of course, I wouldn’t be Karen without a few musings along the way, so here they are, in sections this time, rather than my usual totally-linear presentations.

THE GAME ITSELF

New York Giant Mario Manningham making the catch of the century!

Superbowl XXXXVI turned-out to be one of the most exciting ones ever, living-up to its moniker, Superbowl.

The excitement began with the revved-up entrances of both teams. It got everyone‘s blood pumping, not just the players.

Back in the day, I had watched Superbowl XXV with my old pals, Wendy and Martin Mull, and I was so nervous for that last, Giants-opposing field goal attempt by the Buffalo Bills kicker that Wendy had to leave her own house! Martin was brave and stayed watching with the mass of tension that was me, and we were rewarded with the second Giants win. Never had I been so nervous for the last few seconds of a Superbowl since then, until last night, when once again the victor wasn’t known until the very last second. Heart-stopping.

THE BROADCASTERS

Broadcast team of Al Michaels and Chris Collinsworth.

It was Chris Collinsworth’s first Superbowl as the lead color commentator, and he was excellent. (He had done the duty once before, in 2005, but was second to Troy Aikman’s lead.)

How does Michelle Tafoya look the same as she did fifteen years ago??? It’s not like she’s even good-looking, but it is amazing! I don’t see any signs of surgery, so she must just have great genes.

We don’t even know who the other female, Alex Flanagan, is, but Mr. X said her hair was a mess in the back. I actually had no problem with it!

Even though he has two previous Superbowl rings, pre-game commentator, and former new England Patriot, Rodney Harrison, is still broken-up over his not taking down New York Giant David Tyree four years ago! I thought he was going to cry on-the-air talking about it. I’m glad to see that I’m not the only one who can’t let past problems go.

Chris Collinsworth, on the other hand, was cool and laughing about someone who had beaten him twice.

Play-by-play announcer Al Michaels, made a good, intelligent reference at one point, that no one on earth got. He commented that colorful player Chad Ochocinco play was once “headlines” but is now “agate type.” I don’t think any viewers really knew what that was, especially since those last two words were so hard to make-out that even the closed-captioners couldn’t figure them out! Mr. X deciphered them and correctly assumed the definition that even I had to look-up! So, seriously, thanks for the vocabulary lesson, Al! And for the high-class reference. I really appreciated it.

THE PRE-GAME COVERAGE

Victorious New York Giants quarterback Eli Manning.

The most shocking part of all the coverage is that not once in the two weeks leading up to it did I hear Eli’s Coming! (For the Giants quarterback, Eli Manning, for those who just party on this special day, and know nothing about what you’re even partying about!) Maybe the ditty is old, but this is the Superbowl, for goodness sake!!! The announcers never even invoked it when the Giants were driving down the field!!! And I’ve had it in my head constantly for several weeks now, since the play-offs began.

Mr. X was shocked that the pre-game show had so many promos, of all types.

For the most part, the segments were either educational or entertaining or both, but the network one, that showed every person on an NBC show singing and dancing, was offensive in it’s desperation. I know that each network who broadcasts this biggest sporting event of the year has to use the occasion to try to lure new viewers to their regular shows, but they made this insult into a “feature” on the pre-game show, not as a commercial, which is what they should have done.

The story about the Pats dedicating their season to Myra Kraft, the late wife of owner Robert Kraft, was emotional and lovely.

THE PERFORMERS

The opening number by recently-married couple Blake Shelton and Miranda Lambert was sweet; they held hands the whole time!

Kelly Clarkson’s National Anthem was excellent; she just got on with it, without sounding like the classic Maya Rudolph parody on SNL, which most big Star-Spangled Banner singers do.

M.I.A. giving a mysterious middle finger, to who knows whom, was just stupid. It was an attempt to get her name out there, any way she could, because she’s the only performer who would have just gone unnoticed otherwise. Yet another classless weirdo who’s lucky to have a career.

Madonna and fun musical guests LMFAO.

Now, to the biggie–Madonna’s much-hyped halftime show: If the old adage “it’s not how you start, it’s how you finish” is true, then she definitely succeeded.

To begin with, she came in on some sort of float, which used up a lot of time where she didn’t have to exert herself. Her entrance was how I wrote reports in school—not a lot of story, with lots of fluff around it.

Then, she sang what I call a “hundred-year-old song” while just walking around the stage. But the guy on the high-wire was great! He had new, interesting moves.

The high-waisted gold belt she was wearing over that black dress made her middle look the way that “mom jeans” do.

And, I know she’s in phenomenal shape, but why was she so klutzy??? Has she always been so, and we never noticed because of all the constant movement around her? Or were those boots just too high for her? Or was it simply her nervousness that she had been talking about?

But, her last song with Ceelo, Like a Prayer, was excellent.

THE COMMERCIALS

The good Chevy yellow car ad.

I loved the Chevy ad featuring a yellow car that a grad thought his parents had given him! It’s actually the only one I cared about at all!

On the other hand, the same company’s ad for a truck, which also featured Twinkies, made no sense. I know what they were going for, sort-of, but it didn’t work and was just a head-scratcher. If they were trying to say that Twinkies are as indestructible as their trucks, (or vice versa,) that would be a slam because it would mean that they’re such crappy food that they’d last through devastation, which they could be sued for. But, the product placement was so major that it seems the Hostess company paid them for it, which means the inclusion was supposed to mean something good. I just don’t get it. And was this ad made before the Hostess company just went into bankruptcy? (Or is at least trying to; I can’t pay attention to everything.)

The Coke polar bears commercials were just stupid and meant absolutely nothing.

I hate the violence in so many ads; even the one for some brand of Greek yogurt, that starred John Stamos, had crazy violence! He should be ashamed of himself, especially since he’s Greek himself.

Go Daddy’s ads with Danica Patrick and Jillian Michaels, two unfeminine chicks, (especially Jillian, who everyone thinks is gay to begin with,) painting a nude female model, were very weird. It would have been creepy if it was guys painting a nude woman, too, but somehow, not as much.

I wouldn’t buy a Hyundai because of the commercial with a mountain lion chasing a person. At one point, they disappear down a hill, and it doesn’t look good for the guy. How is that supposed to make us want to buy their car?

But the Doritos commercials were downright offensive. I thought the dog killing the cat and then bribing his owner with with the crappy chips to keep it a secret was dreadful enough. But I will never, ever buy them again because of their baby slingshot ad!!! That was the most offensive thing I’ve ever seen on network television. And how irresponsible of everyone involved; they know that idiot kids do stuff they see on TV!!! The tiny little warning, “don’t try this at home” just does not cover it. Those ad execs are some sick mofos.

JIMMY FALLON’S LATE NIGHT SPECIAL

[I told you I watched all day!!!]

Jimmy Fallon doing his now-famous "Tebowie."

I think that I think that Jimmy Fallon just may be the best talk show host in history. And that’s coming from one of the finite number of people who have guested on Johnny Carson’s show! I really didn’t think anyone could ever rival the great man, but Jimmy had me rolling in the aisles last night on his post-game special.

I’ve never actually watched even a quarter of one show of his shows. To be more accurate, not even more than a minute. And that was only once. But the bits I’ve seen elsewhere look great. So, I’m at least placing him side-by-side with Johnny. For now, at least, because perhaps it was just the euphoria of the Giants victory that made me giddy. But I was grateful for the laughs, no matter how they were manifested.

And for the Giants winning yet another Superbowl! Yay!!!

So, after a month in New York, the first month of 2012 turned out to be a juicy one for celebrity sightings back home in L.A. Let’s get right to them.

1/6/12 My first celeb sighting was my old pal, Bruce Vilanche, as he was arriving in New York and Mr. X and I were finally leaving after a horrific month-long stay, during which time we lost my precious little mother. It was good to run into someone she thought was so funny to remind me to try to laugh again. (By the way, he loved the airline, and we were not fond of it at all, even in the supposedly better seats.)

Photo of Jeremy Irons at the GBK Suite by Karen Salkin.

1/13/12 I really didn’t notice many celebs at this year’s first crop of suites, but I did spy Kevin Dillon, of Entourage fame, at the Secret Room at the SLS Hotel in Beverly Hills. Then, just down the street, in front of the L’Ermitage Hotel, standing there like a little girl waiting for a friend, was Mayim Bialik. She looked so much better in person than as a nerd supreme on the hilarious Big Bang Theory, that I wasn’t even sure it was she at first, until she followed me up to the GBK suite, where her party finally arrived. Later, on the roof, at the actual event, I ran into Oscar winner Jeremy Irons. That was an exciting sighting.

1/13/12 As I left the Golden Globes gifting suite at the L’Ermitage Hotel on Burton Way in Beverly Hills, and walked a few steps down the block to my car, there was only one other person walking down the street, towards me. It was Mickey Rourke! Texting all way, I might add. I was shocked to see, and happy to report, that he looks about a zillion times better in person than in the media. He looked slim in his tight jeans, and actually kind-of normal.

1/14/12 I cancelled my birthday party this year, even though it was on a Saturday for the first time in about a bazillion years, because of my recent sadness. [Note: see the first sighting above for deets, if you want them.] So Mr. X and I chose to spend a low-key day on the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica, along with the hoi polloi. There was a strange assemblage of people on one corner, and it was to be a part of a television show that I haven’t heard of since the ’90s, The People’s Court, with host Harvey Levin, of TMZ fame, hosting them. He’s much shorter than I would have thought, if I had ever thought about him at all, which I haven’t.

1/14/12 So I chose Craig’s in West Hollywood for my Bday dinner this year, and was seated near two old school theatre world celebs I used to know–married-forever couple Carole Cook and Tom Troupe. About to sit near us was local news reporter Joel Grover, who’s the guy who broke the story about dirty restaurants in LA, thus forcing the letter system into existence. So, I’m assuming that Craig’s is on the A-list, if Joel’s eating here. Happy Birthday to me!

1/25/12 Kate Mara having lunch on the patio near me at Lemonade on Beverly Boulevard. I had never been there before, and hated it, [my scathing review in the next couple of weeks,] but she and an animated older woman seemed to be enjoying their lunch, leaving me to ask, “Why?”

1/27/12 Eric Idle at just a regular person night (as opposed to opening night, which I guess we both missed this time,) at the Mark Taper Forum to see the excellent Clybourne Park. He was hanging with a group of pals right near me in the lobby at halftime.

I rarely write about Biggest Loser, even though I’ve watched every episode over the years. I hate the inanity, but love to see people’s health, looks, and lives improve with hard work. There’s never anything much to say about it. Some contestants are creepy, some are nice, and all the drama is contrived, as far as I’m concerned.

But what happened on this week’s episode needs addressing. The teams treated newcomers Adrian and Daphne like pariahs, and I don’t know how they can get away with it. The red team has two absolute bi-atches on it, and I don’t understand how the others are not voting them off when they have the chance!!!

Creepy Conda.

Condra is just poison. (I, unfortunately, know someone like her, only it’s an older man who should know better. Somewhere down the line, I’ll tell you a personal story that will make all your lives look rosy.) I just hate that rotten people like this one are allowed to get away with it. From Day 1, she’s started trouble with different contestants, and gets them thrown off! While it’s obvious to us, the audience, what she’s doing, the other members of her team don’t seem to get it.

A few weeks ago, she started a drama with Cassandra, a girl from the black team, and they made a physical challenge out of it, which Condra lost fair and square. But, rather than graciously accepting her defeat, she lied and said the other girl cheated, which we all know she did not. Cassandra was kind enough to agree to a do-over, which already wasn’t fair because it was a different exercise they competed in the second time. But she beat Conda at that one, too, so Conda just brushed it off and never mentioned it again. I just hate people like that. Don’t we all?

Witchy Kim.

The other one is the witchy Kim. She screwed her own team with her arrogance as the head of another challenge a couple of episodes ago, and when they lost because of her, they should have definitely turned around and voted her off. But, with Conda’s help, those two succeeded ing getting someone else voted off.

Granted, we don’t really see all the machinations in the house, so we have to sort-of read between the lines; but, with repeated offenses, we can figure it all out close enough to the truth.

No matter what else is going on in that house, what those two witches did to newcomer Adrian this week was inexcusable. I’m sure that some viewers will chalk it up to racism, as the team that came back “into the house,” which means into the competition on the ranch, (which is their headquarters, in case you don’t watch the show,) are the only two black people vying for the title against a passel of white folks. (What an odd sentence that last one is.)

Nice Adrian.

But I think it’s so much more than racism for those two. That bitch (a word that’s too good for her, by the way,) Conda, came up with a whispering campaign of lies about Adrian to the rest of the team, just to set-up trying to get him voted off the next week, as he had immunity this one. Kim is her henchman and the rest of the team are just idiots, apparently, who aren’t wise to her evil and lies. The poor guy was just minding his business and trying to take advantage of being back in the house and learning from the trainers and nutritionists, and he had to deal with the sneakiness of Conda and Kim. I hate seeing people like those two get ahead.

So, anyhow, thanks in good part to Conda, the red team lost the weigh-in and had to send one member home. And Conda didn’t even get one vote! They sent a nice little old lady home! How are the other members of the red team missing these opportunities to get rid of someone so awful??? She’s rotten through-and-through and doesn’t even help in the losing weight category or winning the challenges! She’s without even one redeeming quality! I just don’t get it, on any level.

The worst part of this whole debacle is that the other people are believing this liar! So they started attacking Adrian, too, who is absolutely undeserving of that treatment! The old lady even told him to be quiet when he was just sticking up for himself. They told him not to talk because he’s the new guy! How does such rudeness exist in this world??? It turns my stomach. [Note: my poor little mother had the same thing happen to her from a family member, being told not to talk, but that's part of the story for down the line.]

I know there’s little real fairness in life, and the little there is is out of our control. But I’m sooooo routing for Adrien, and his sister Daphne, who’s on the opposite team, to hang in there and last many weeks on the show, if not win it altogether. And for nothing good to happen for Conda and Kim. Ever.

P. S. I just found out that not one, but two guys on the red team, Buddy and Mark, are pastors! How did they allow that kind of abuse to go on without piping-up??? So, shame on them, as well.

I’m on a roll with theatre so far this year, because, in addition to everything else I’ve reviewed recently, I really enjoyed Clybourne Park at the Mark Taper Forum.

The “u” in the title misled me; I assumed it was some old-time English situation, like the movies Gosford Park or The Remains of the Day. Instead, it was a wonderfully-crafted play with two separate-yet-connected acts performed by the same cast with the same theme—modern-day prejudices brought to light by real estate situations. I couldn’t help but think of similar dilemmas that several of us are going through right now.

Photos by Craig Schwartz.

The first act takes place in a basic family home in Chicago in 1959. My mouth was watering over the wallpaper from that time! (When we just had to remove part of the wall phone in my mother’s house in Brooklyn, I saw a similar patch of original paper. Yum!) And the second half is updated to 2009 in the same house, but with different characters.

All the actors are excellent, but Jeremy Shamos is the stand-out…in both acts! Playing totally different characters. Yes, he does remind me of Ed Grimley a little in the first one, (the Martin Short character, who goes “mental” over Pat Sajak,) but it doesn’t matter. (And, actually, Christina Kirk brought to mind Kristen Wiig, also of SNL fame. Maybe it’s the Chicago influence.)

I don’t want to go deep into the race relations issues that the play brings up, as many other reviewers do. All you really need to know is that it’s funny, mostly painless, and worth seeing. If you’ve ever bought or sold a house, or moved, or even just lived, it should appeal to you, on so many levels. As many of you know, I really need as many laughs as I can get nowadays, and Clybourne Park provided some juicy ones, especially late in the second half. Very appreciated.

And with having to sell the beloved house I grew up in, sometime in the next year, this play gave me insight as to what I may have to expect. I just hope that I can bring the sense of humor to the just- about-guaranteed drama I’ll have to go through as playwright Bruce Norris brought to this fictional journey. Fingers crossed.

Clybourne Park running through December 18, 2011 Mark Taper Forum 135 N. Grand Ave. 213-628-2772 www.CenterTheatreGroup.org

I love a show with a three-letter title! I hate typing, so the name already had me in a good mood when I arrived at the Pasadena Playhouse. (Knowing the after-party was at Bistro 45 didn’t hurt, either.)

Photo of Roger Bart by Jim Cox.

After a month filled with seeing tons of mostly-depressing films, (to vote for the SAG Awards,) it was a pleasure to see a comedy! Especially one starring Roger Bart. That man knows his craft! I had never even heard of him until I saw him in the title role in Young Frankenstein at the Pantages a year and a half ago, but when I researched him, I found-out that he’s been working in the biz for twenty-five years! Wow. And deservedly so.

The other two actors, Michael O’Keefe and Bradley Whitford, are famous-ish also; I had heard both names, but wasn’t familiar with them, although I’m sure most other audience members were. [Note: I researched them, as well. And was shocked by just how many credits they have, and I've never seen their work before! My bad.)

I had first seen Art thirteen years ago, almost to the day. (Thirteen years and eleven days ago, to be exact.) I enjoyed it more this time, I'm sure because of Mr. Bart. He brought such life to the role.

The short play, which won the 1998 Tony Award, is about three male friends in Paris, arguing about an expensive all-white painting that one of them bought. The location isn't important; as a matter of fact, I'm surprised that the producers kept it as the location. I had reasoned that its French playwright, Yasmina Reza, had dictated that Paris was non-negotiable, but she also wrote God of Carnage, and that site was transferred to Brooklyn when it was produced on Broadway, so I don't get it. The talk of “euros,” as opposed to “dollars,” was just distracting. If you don't know the story, you can think that the location will come into play somehow, and it does not.

Photo by Jim Cox.

I enjoyed the show, although the long scene near the end does get a tad wordy. And I really do think it should end a few minutes earlier than it does, because the last little bit seems superfluous. But I always love a short one-acter. And, I know I’m probably alone in this opinion, but I liked the controversial painting that’s the centerpiece of the show, twhich I’m assuming is really about friendship. Ms. Reza seems to like to write about friendly conflict that in real life would not be resolved.

The best part about a short play at the Pasadena Playhouse is that there are so many cool eateries to try before or after! I was jumping out of my skin to return to Bistro 45 for the opening night party, a restaurant I had reviewed more-than-favorably many years ago. At the time of the review, they featured chocolate crème brûlée for dessert and my taste buds have never been the same. I dream of that stuff!!!

I have to laud them for the most super-generous hors d’oeuvres and buffet that I’ve ever seen at party—including mine, where I’m always proud to have way more food than necessary. But Bistro 45 surpassed even moi. (There–I threw-in un peu de Francais pour vous, parce que le play et du cette cite. Or something like that.)

The assemblage mingled on the cozy patio while imbibing several wines, which were constantly replenished by the always-on-top-of-it staff. I loved every hors d’oeuvres I tried, but especially the pork loin on crunchy toast and the chicken dumplings. OMG to those two!

Then we moved into the dining room to dine on a sumptuous buffet of French delicacies, like lamb and seafood cassoulet. As many of you know, I don’t eat either one of those, so even though I could barely eat another bite, I was happy to see that the efficient staff still passed the appetizers for the patio gang. (Some peeps could just not tear themselves away from that lovely area.)

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, they came around with trays of desserts, which were all perfect and delicious, especially the chocolate-caramel squares and dark chocolate truffles. I was so busy enjoying the fare that I totally forgot to take pictures of it!!! I guess you’ll just have to go there and see the food for yourself.

As if all that wasn’t enough, at dinner I sat with Pasadena Playhouse Artistic Director Sheldon Epps, which I wasn’t afraid to do because I could honestly give him props for this production, and old acquaintance Mike Stoller, who wrote many of the iconic songs of our lives, such as Stand By Me and On Broadway, with his partner Jerry Leiber. Pretty good dinner companions.

What a completely satisfying evening! I think I need more of those this year! Please!

Art running through February 19, 2012 Pasadena Playhouse 39 South El Molino Ave. Pasadena 626-356-7529 www.PasadenaPlayhouse.org

Bistro 45 45 South Mentor Avenue  Pasadena 626-795-2478 www.bistro45.com

As an actress, I had the honor of voting for the Screen Actors Guild awards, that took place last night. I take these responsibilities seriously, as I suspect few others do, so I saw every film that had a nomination. I didn’t vote in some television categories because I didn’t think it was fair to do so, as I hadn’t seen all the nominated performances. But, on the whole, I was satisfied with the outcomes.

I was actually out last night, at the opening night of Art at the Pasadena Playhouse, which I’ll review tomorrow, so I missed the walk-ins. No big loss; just less to rag on. (Like that new idiot Asian chick who covers the red carpet for E. At the Golden Globes, she actually told very overweight Melissa McCarthy that the reason she herself has such great abs is because she’s busy laughing at Melissa on-screen! Nice comment to a heavy girl.) (And, what makes gray-haired, tattooed, chubbette Kelly Osbourne a “fashion expert”??? If I looked like she does, I’d get a make-over!)

Anyway, here are my observations during the telecast:

I was happy for Christopher Plummer to win for his supporting role in Beginners, but I voted for Nick Nolte in Warrior, the most under-rated movie perhaps ever! I don’t know anyone else who even heard of it, maybe because the topic was Mixed Martial Arts. But if you want to see acting how it’s supposed to be done, run out and see it. Not only was Nick brilliant, but so was the rest of the cast. [My long overdue review should be published here next week, so please check it out.] Jonah Hill, in Moneyball, and Armie Hammer, in the dreadful, waste-of-time J. Edgar, didn’t deserve to be in this category with the other three. (Kenneth Branagh as Laurence Oliver in My Week With Marilyn was the other deserving nominee, whom I was planning to vote for until I saw Warrior.)

I just realized that I’m only one degree from Chris Plummer!!! His first wife was the eccentric Broadway actress Tammy Grimes, with whom Mr. X starred in a play in Toronto several years ago. She became one of my favorite afternoon tea partners; it was fun to hang with someone who was even kookier than I!!!

Was gorgeous Mexican actor Demian Bichir, who was nominated for his work in the excruciatingly painful A Better Life, a gardener before he became an actor, like we actors from the United States are waiters first? I always think it’s funny when we wind-up playing waiters, and he wound-up playing a gardener!

Shailene Woodley’s hair looked like she just came from the gym.

Remember when black women could play only maids in movies, and it took decades for them to be able to play other roles? Well, Octavia Spencer won for doing just that! How come no one else mentions this irony???

My fellow actors who voted for creepy Alec Baldwin are idiots! He’s rude and thinks he’s more important than everyone else. (I know from experience.) The winner should have been any one of the other guys, but I really thought the union would reward Steve Carrell for this being the last time he could win for The Office. And because he’s a good guy! And how was Jim Parsons not nominated for male in a TV comedy???

Betty White looked great! Her outfit was cool and perfect. And she’s so funny without pushing it or even planning anything.

Jessica Chastain‘s basic creamy teal dress was simple, pretty, and perfect.

I love that the Bacons presented together! Award shows never have people who even know each other present together, for some strange reason; it’s like seating strangers together at dinner parties, which drives me crazy. [Note: Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgwick are married, for those of you who read about only the couples who don't make it.]

I’m so glad that the deserving Modern Family won, but they shouldn’t have let the kids do that really unfunny bit as their acceptance speech. Especially since all the grown-ups on the show are funny, and we really wanted to hear them.

I have never before noticed that the SAG Award statuette has a tiny semblance of a male unit!!! Gross. He also has no face!!! I know that’s so he can wear a mask of comedy or tragedy, but it’s just creepy. I guess I should be glad that I’ll never win one! My Marvy Award (don’t ask) is weird enough.

I didn’t see the other ladies’ performances in the TV movie category, but Kate Winslet, as Mildred Pierce, did not deserve the win. Perhaps she agreed with me because she didn’t show up.

Zoe Saldana did look great, even though she always seems like she thinks she’s all that.

Paul Giamatti just does nothing for me. I never understand how he wins anything. Maybe at the beginning, when perhaps the voters felt sorry for him and figured it’s his one chance at it, because actors who look like him usually don’t get the main roles, but they just keep on coming. The roles and the awards! That one’s a head-scratcher for me.

Ken Howard‘s rant about the merger of SAG and AFTRA was out of place on a nationally-televised basic entertainment show. Nobody who watches it gives a rat’s ass about the merger! It was a very inappropriate venue for that announcement. And it’s not even a done deal! Or even one that all the members of both unions want! Save it for a union meeting, not national television. Don’t waste the public’s time.

I love that Dick Van Dyke proudly mentioned that Mary Tyler Moore came to our attention on his show when she “was just twenty-three!”; nowadays, a gal can’t get a job as a sitcom wife unless she’s been on series TV since she was twelve!!

Mary looked great, especially for what she’s been through health-wise for the past couple of years. But I have a horrible feeling that she can’t walk because this was the second show recently where they had her positioned at the podium so we didn’t have to see her walking out.

The tribute to MTM reminded me of this: when I started out in show biz, I thought of changing my name to Karen Tyler Moore. (Looks good, right?) Then, when people would ask me if I was related to Mary, I’d just look humble and say, “I’m trying to make it on my own.” That way, I wasn’t lying (which I abhor,) and hopefully, the powers-that-be would assume I was, and try to help me! Clever. But I wanted my parents to get credit for any success I had, so I kept Salkin. Perhaps not the best move, especially since, because of my show, Karen’s Restaurant Revue, everyone just called me “Karen” and never even knew my last name! Kind-of like “Cher,” though not by my design.

Jessica Lange‘s dress was awful. It was the color of warm dog poop, the top didn’t fit over her boobs correctly, and it was so low-cut that it featured her crepe-y chest. Even though she’s aged perhaps the worst of any female in show biz today, she really can do better with her attire.

Steve Buscemi‘s uttering, “To my fellow nominees um, congratulations” was the most insincere, obligatory reading of any winner ever! It was best left un-said.

I actually loved Meryl Streep‘s semi-matronly outfit, which I’m sure no one else did. It was classy, comfortable, and no nonsense.

How was Larry Hagman able to talk on a Sunday??? When I was first starting out in the biz, Mr. X took me to a very show business private party at David Wayne‘s house, with lots of older famous people. I was in awe. We wound-up sitting on the patio with Larry, who was rocking a fez. That was weird enough, especially to an impressionable young girl, but I noticed he wasn’t talking. Or even laughing, when we all were. He just smiled a lot. Seeing my obvious confusion, one of the other guests explained that Mr. Hagman didn’t talk on Sundays! Combined with the fez, I thought it was some kind of strange religious ritual. But no—it was a self-imposed rule. One that everyone wishes I would follow!!! Every day of the week!

Adorable winner for The Artist, Frenchman Jean Dujardin looked so much older in the film, which is how they did look way back in the day, in the era this film was set in. It’s so interesting. But his hesitant acceptance speech revealed why he made a silent film!!!

Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie appear to be so lovely. They were so happy for Jean, even though he was up against Brad.

This next sentence I actually hate writing, but I do want to be credited as the one to have written this first (although, shamefully to other journalists, I never am.) Okay, here goes: I hate to be the one to bust her because I love her, but I think Angie had her eyes done! I’m pretty sure I saw those surgery scars when they did close-ups of her chatting with Tilda Swinton at the end. And perhaps a slight face lift. I hate myself for pointing it out.

I also hate that this show says “actor” for females. As Mr. X asked, “When did ‘actress’ become a derogatory moniker???” There’s “actor” for men and “actress” for women. Period. Nothing wrong with it.

Viola Davis‘ left eyelash was falling off during her acceptance speech. Her win was quite the surprise after Meryl Streep and Michelle Williams shared the honor at the Golden Globes in the same category. As a fellow Rhode Island College alum in the Theatre Department, helmed by Dr. P. William Hutchinson, Viola and my mutual good friend still, I was glad to hear her mention the state.

Did anyone else notice that Owen Wilson looked stunned when The Help won for best ensemble over his Midnight In Paris???

That’s it. So we have only the Grammys and Oscars to go this season. I have to go sharpen my claws for those.

In all my years of observing every kind of cultural event, even going back to when I was a wide-eyed child in New York City, I’ve never seen anything that comes close to a Cirque du Soleil show. I haven’t seen nearly as many of their thirty different versions as I would like, but each one I have been lucky enough to observe has been spectacular. OVO is no exception.

Adding to the spectacle is the venue; it’s back in it’s original Los Angeles spot, the Santa Monica Pier, where it all began back in 1987. (In the U.S.; it was born in Canada and appeared there for years before we were lucky enough for the company to come here). The romance of the event being staged there has endured.

As most of you already know, I absolutely hate e-words, making it hard to even write the word out for you! But, since Ovo means “egg,” I have to tell you that this is the first e-word I’ve ever enjoyed! I did try to avert my eyes when they were carting the giant one around the stage, but it wasn’t often, thank goodness for me. I wonder if Lady Gaga had already seen this show somewhere before she was brought to the stage in a giant one at last year’s Grammys. Hmmm.

I obviously couldn’t take notes during the show as I was riveted to the on-stage action. For the few of you who have never seen any Cirque du Soleil, let me tell you that one of their hallmarks is to have action at all times with no down time and no breaks, save for intermission. There’s constant music and the players do all the set changes, which are seamless and creative.

They do have comedy, of the mainly physical variety, in between the death-defying acts, but it’s still action, which the audience really enjoyed. The man next to me was downright guffawing over some of it! (For full disclosure, I’ve never liked their comedy, but then again, I’m not big into clown acts. When I was in the circus myself, back in the day, I had planned on training to be a clown, while being the star of the sideshow, but realized I’m just not into silliness, so I chose to stay being The Divided Lady and be cut up in a box. Good choice, eh?)

Comedy aside, Ovo’s acts are wonderful. My favorite, (though with so many uber-talented performers, it was hard to choose,) was the final one–frogs jumping on a giant wall. Any humble description I could offer would not do it justice, so you really just have to see it for yourself. The single guy on the most interesting high-wire I’ve even seen is a close second.

I’ve always felt that Cirque’s acts simulate fireworks—they just build and build, and just when you’re sure you’ve just witnessed the finale, they go even deeper. I really can’t figure out the minds of the amazing creators of each show. They constantly out-do themselves!

Each show has it’s own concept, some which I understand, others not so much. But they’re really beside the point. The concept helps fuel the set, costumes, and original music, so each is unique in those aspects, as well as the acts. Ovo is something about insects, and the costumes are stunning. I especially loved the grasshoppers, and how the costumes dictated the movement of the dancers and acrobats.

A couple of people I recommended the show to have told me that they’ve already been to another Cirque du Soleil show. To that I must say—are you nuts? Each one is unique! And even Cirque’s worst show, if there even is one, is better than even the best other entertainment, so you’re missing out big-time if you miss any Cirque du Soleil. One of my dreams is to see all their shows, and if you have the opportunity to do so, I say go for it! Every person in this amazing company always gives it his or her all.

This Sunday, January 29, the one PM show will be Ovo’s 1,000th! Even if they do nothing special for it, you’ll be witnessing history, so it should be a really fun time to attend.

Also, if you’re like most people I know, and worry about getting there, parking, etc., it’s so much easier than you’d think. There’s affordable parking right by the Grand Chapiteau itself, (that’s the colorful moniker for their tent,) and on the Pier. And the portable bathrooms are not gross. And, surprisingly, there really aren’t any bad seats under the big top; we were kind-of high-up and semi-view-obstructed, but the show looked great. The designers make sure that there’s something going on on all levels of the stage, and for trapeze, higher-up is actually better. And the colorful sets and costumes are so entertaining that there’s always something wonderfully visual going on, from every vantage point. I was so busy eyeing the amazements on the stage, that I forgot to peruse the audience! I don’t think there are any other entertainments that can claim that, so extra kudos to Ovo!

Cirque du Soleil: OVO running through March 11, 2012
Santa Monica Pier   www.cirquedusoleil.com/ovo

Well, I guess this is “grande dame week” here at www.ItsNotAboutMe.TV; yesterday, we saluted May Rose Salkin and today it’s Meryl Streep. My little mo is in good company.

Here’s my short review of The Iron Lady: Give Meryl Streep the Oscar right now! And every other award out there! That woman is a phenomenon.

I’m begging my fellow actors to vote for her tomorrow for the Screen Actors Guild Award. But I’m sure she’ll get screwed this year, as usual. People, all of them idiots, think she’s won everything she’s nominated for, but in reality she’s won only two Oscars…and one’s even for a supporting role!

If anyone else wins this year, it will be a travesty, just like when Cher, winning for her mediocre turn in Moonstruck, beat out Meryl’s absolutely amazing performance in the heartbreaking Ironweed. Yes, Michelle Williams was convincing as Marilyn Monroe in My Week With Marilyn, and Viola Davis gave her usual excellent angst-ridden portrayal in The Help, but Meryl is in a class by herself as Margaret Thatcher. In my humble opinion, no one else in the business even deserves to call herself an actress, next to Meryl Streep. There should be no dissension that she’s the greatest actress of at least my lifetime, if not all time.

I honestly did not know that that woman at the beginning of The Iron Lady was Meryl Streep! And I went back over that part twice, to see if I could figure out just who was playing her as an old woman. It took about fifteen minutes, and tons of convincing by Mr. X, to realize it was indeed she! I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.  (The make-up crew really must be lauded, as well.)

I tried to find a photo of her as the older Maggie, but there were none to be found. I would have just taken a screen shot from my screener, but I don’t think that SAG allows even that much to be shared, and I’m all about the rules. So, you’ll just have to see it for yourself.

There’s not much else to be said about this film. We saved it until nearly the end of the screening period because we both assumed it would be boring. But, from the very first scene of just Meryl as Maggie buying milk from a grocery store, we were riveted. To Meryl’s performance—the story is not half as interesting. But the story itself did not matter in this case; we were blown away by what Ms. Streep was accomplishing. As actors ourselves, (and Mr. X being a really good one,) even we could not imagine how someone can do what she did.

Mr. X had two observations that I wish I had come up with. He said, “There’s so much life in her eyes,” just as I was being fascinated by them. He also commented that he felt that we were intruding on her life; that’s how intimate a portrait of Mrs. Thatcher she was painting.

So, even if someone else wins Best Actress, at first this week-end’s Screen Actors Guild awards, and then next month at the Oscars, please know that Meryl Streep as Margaret Thatcher gave really, by far, the performance of the year.

Today is a month since my precious little mother went to heaven. I can’t believe it’s been a month since I’ve seen her. When I’m here in LA, that’s not strange because it’s usually at least that time between my month-long visits to her.

But I call her about ten times a day, literally, so not being able to talk to her anymore is incredibly sad to me. She was always my first thought when I woke up, and I called her at the drop of a hat: to read my daily column, to let her know what was on TV almost every daytime hour, to say what I was going to do that day (or had just done,) and to tell her the news of the world. (She would have loved that Lindsay Davenport just had a ten pound baby! And that Roger Federer just played his 1,000th match…and won!)

So, I’m still really suffering. I had thought the pain would ease up a little when I was back in my basic L.A. life, but, really unfortunately, that hasn’t been the case.

May Rose Salkin at Bell Mountian Lodge.

So, I feel it’s time for another small tribute to her. Since she had spent many summers in Aspen, writing daily poems to the editor, and bringing a smile to all, (except for the town grumps, though I feel they were perhaps smiling in private,) The Aspen Times published their own tribute to my mother two weeks ago. As lovely and appreciated as it was, it was incomplete because I had missed my opportunity to speak with the reporter, which caused me great pain. I lay on the couch crying and screaming over it…for two hours!

So, I really must thank the editors of The Times for including a follow-up letter that I wrote this past week. Here are the highlights from it, which feature some of my mother’s best Aspen shenanigans, which viewers of my show may recall hearing about in detail over the years:

The short versions are these:

–She called 911 because I found a mouse in our cabin at Christiana Lodge! It was nutty, but it’s the reason we became friends with the wonderful, (and handsome, a fact that was not lost on either of us,) Aspen police force!

–One day, a bear ran towards me outside our cabin at L’Auberge, (where were stayed for the last four summers of our Aspen inhabitance ,) and by some miracle, stopped, looked at me, and ran away. My adorable little mother exclaimed, “Did you see that big dog???”

–She was upset when some “tipsters” called the newspaper’s tip-line and declared my mother was Elvis, offering as proof that “when you play her poems backwards, you can hear her say, ‘I am Elvis!’ ” The rest of us were hysterical over it, but she thought it was just “crazy.” (I’m laughing over this one even as I write.)

–One afternoon, she ran into our cabin and told me we had to hurry to the hospital. I thought something was wrong with my father, but no—the lady from the gift shop had called and said new Beanie Babies had just come in!

–When she penned a ditty about the cracked sidewalk in front of a sportswear store, they immediately re-did the offending panel, with this message “engraved” in the wet cement: “Dear May Rose, does this ease your woes?”

–And of course, what Coloradan can forget the story the Denver 9 News did on the hubbub surrounding her daily poems in the Aspen newspapers? She looked so adorable in the television feature, writing poems and laughing as she did so. The icing on that cake was that, after the segment on my mother, the anchor introduced their next report by saying it was yet another literary saga—about a long-lost volume from Chaucer!!! Who would have ever thought that the literary musings of May Rose Salkin would be the lead-in to those of Chaucer! Think of it–the man who’s widely considered the greatest English poet of the Middle Ages being preceded by my mother, the greatest middle-aged poet! In my heart, at least.

Reading my own dineLA promo yesterday reminded me that I’ve been somewhat shirking my restaurant critic responsibilities lately. Even when I was billed mainly as a restaurant critic on my show, Karen’s Restaurant Revue, back in the day, I really critiqued everything in life, which is how this E-zine got born. But, don’t think for a minute that I’m not still eatery-obsessed. So, I figured it’s time for another restaurant review. [Note: I'll try to get to more of them this year. That's a resolution.]

And, with my life in New York forever changed with the recent death of my precious mother, (which means that, in a year from now, I won’t be spending as much time in the Big Apple as I always do, and especially not in my beloved Brooklyn,) I decided the first review of 2012 should be on one in Brooklyn. On their newly-famous mini restaurant row, to be exact, which is on Cortelyou Road in Ditmas Park. I love the area, but not Purple Yam, one of it’s most famous residents.

The torture chamber seating.

I was taking my sister out to dinner in mid-December, (will wonders never cease???,) and had wanted to try this unassuming Filipino (with other Asian influences thrown in) place for quite awhile, so I suggested it. She jumped at it, as she had already eaten there, and loved dish or two. Let’s just say it’s yet another thing she and I disagree on. At least I have two varying opinions to give you here, so that’s a bonus.

Purple Yam was just an overall weird experience, with a strange menu, to boot. It’s also deceptively expensive, and appeared kind-of dirty, with horribly uncomfortable booths. My back was killing me the whole time. The seats were like some kind of torture chamber. Very odd choice for the designer of the place to make.

The basic view I had all evening. Delightful, eh? NOT!

And I usually love mis-matched dishes, especially at a funky afternoon tea, but here they just looked gross. I felt like they were procured at an unsanitary garage sale, and never yet washed, or something like that.

Worse than all of those to me was the service by the very odd-looking staff. They were kind-of scary, in an opium den-denizen kind-of way! And our waiter kept touching his face..and not washing his hands! I wanted to throw-up. And nearly did! And when I asked him for a second napkin, which was not an over-bearing request, by any stretch of the imagination, he handed me a paper towel!!! I told you—weirdos. (By the way, even Betty said the service was “peculiar.”)

In regards to the cuisine, we did try a lot of dishes, with my sister liking most of them, especially the sauces, which even I admit were interesting. It was all good enough, just not special to me; there was not one dish I would ever again crave, and a couple, like the pork sliders and chocolate rice dessert, I wish I could take the memory-erase pill to forget.

The creepy pork sliders.

Speaking of the pork sliders, they were all fat!!! It’s the cheapest dish, but the meat was downright inedible. In yet another weirdness, it was just $6. and listed as an entree, when the rest of them were in the mid-teens. They must realize that they’re serving you just pork fat, so they don’t want to charge more it.

In the okay category, in my opinion, but excellent category for my sister, were these dishes: chicken adobo; watermelon, green mango & jicama salad; and deep fried spring rolls with pork, mushrooms, carrots, jicama & sweet-sour pineapple sauce.

Can it get any more unappetizing than this???

She loved her dessert, which was a “young coconut” pie, (which the waiter tried to explain for quite awhile; his description was essentially akin to what students who don’t study try to have pass for knowledge during oral exams.) Mine, on the other hand, was one of the grossest desserts I’ve ever had the misfortune to see. It was described as “sweet rice in chocolate & cream,” which sounded kind-of yummy, topped with ice cream. (Since I hate coffee, the flavor it came with, I chose the questionable “young coconut,” which was the only really okay part of the meal.) It was downright disgusting! It was basically rice swimming in some thin chocolate liquid. It was something that some desperate pre-teens would come up with on a rainy week-end, and throw-out before their parents discovered it.

The $12. scallion pancake.

The one thing that bothered me more than all the other glitches, and not from a money point-of-view, but from a fairness one, was this: because of my sister’s crustacean allergy, we had to order the scallion pancake without the shrimp, which should have been a choice to begin with, with so many vegetarians dining out these days. When I very politely pointed-out to our delightful waiter, (I hope that even The Big Bang Theory‘s Sheldon can recognize my sarcasm there,) that had charged the full $12 for what was essentially a vegetarian pancake, he informed me that he couldn’t charge lass for it because they “don’t have a marking in the computer for that!” That one takes the cake! (I wish it had taken some of the other dishes with it.) Then how about comp a dessert, pal?! Especially the sickly liquid rice one, which should have been comped anyway, due it’s grossness.

I had better luck in Manhattan this time, and I plan to tell you about the positive experience later on this week. So you’ll have a little yin and yang. Maybe Purple Yam should get some, as well!

1314 Cortelyou Road, Ditmas Park, Brooklyn 718-940-8188 www.purpleyamnyc.com