Tag: Christmas

Darlene-mania

As you know, I look forward to Darlene Love’s annual appearance with David Letterman. Unfortunately, with the writers strike no new shows.

Sigh.

I was very sad. Her performance gets better by the year.

This afternoon I got an email from Leslie with the best news possible (short of an end to the strike). Darlene will be on tomorrow night.

Merry Christmas!

Tuesday, December 25

Original Airdate: 12/22/06

Jay Thomas

Cate Blanchette

Darlene Love sings “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)”

I’ll be watching.

Christmas With A Cold

My cold continues to blossom. Last night I felt it make its first move, escaping from my throat. Today, I’m sneezing.

I took some Sudafed this morning, which made a difference for a while. Tonight, it was capped with Alka Seltzer cold tablets. The jury’s out on how those work.

Originally, it was going to be an easy day. Sit. Relax. Forget about work. That was not to be.

We’re very short at the TV station. One of our meteorologists is out of town. Another was injured jumping out of a second story window in a fire (Mostly bruised, he’ll be back shortly)!

I’m in, again, tonight. I’ll be in, again, tomorrow too! I’ll be working 13 in a row and 20 of 21, including Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Don’t cry for me. It’s not as if I don’t like my job.

PIC-0175Between shows I went with Helaine and Stef to a little pre-Christmas get together at our neighbors’. The tree is up and the house is decorated. It’s really pretty. Dinner was served on Christmas plates.

Yeah, we’re jealous. Having a tree and all the accouterments of the holiday is very appealing.

People always ask, “Why don’t you just get a tree?” It wouldn’t be right. It’s not our holiday. We still enjoy celebrating with our friends.

Our neighbors have the two best behaved, most polite, boys I’ve ever seen. They’re almost Stepford like. I’ve known both these kids since they were born and they both call me Mr. Fox.

They were brought up like that. Respect is a lost art for most 21st Century kids.

Amazingly enough, the younger one, now in the 4th grade, was the bartender! I’m not talking about pulling a beer from the cooler or pouring wine. He had a handwritten set of instructions and was measuring out some pretty fancy concoctions. Martini glasses were frosted and filled.

Maybe it would be wrong under different circumstances, but not here. He was helping his parents and doing a pretty good job of it! This was all about being a team player. It had nothing at all to do with the liquor.

Mr. Fox did not imbibe.

The Forecaster’s Burning Ears

I have my name ‘forward searched.’ If a new entry comes on the Internet, or gets published in a newspaper, and if Google sees it (and they see everything) , they send me an email. I get asked for quotes about the weather all the time and I like to see what people write.

A few minutes ago, Google sent me a link. They’d found a new webpage with my name on it.

The link led to a site where there is an argument going on about me. How absolutely weird&#185. How many other problems must you solve before you get to me on life’s giant to-do list?

The combatants are on a site populated by weather lovers. By and large, these people like active weather and are disappointed when the forecast doesn’t follow. What they do is called ‘wishcasting’.

I think most forecasters overforecast snow. My forecasts tend to be conservative. On a seasonal basis, I would guess I forecast fewer inches of snow than any other meteorologist in Connecticut. No one gets them all. My forecasts are pretty accurate.

The link led directly to a post ridiculing my forecast. I learned a long time ago you don’t do that until AFTER the event.

Did anyone see Geoff Fox’s snowfall forecast. My jaw almost hit the ground when i saw 0-1″ for the shore and 2-3″ well inland with 4-7″ for the northern counties. That microcast is frying his brain or something. Anyone with a half a brain could forecast this storm better than that. Look at this consensus…

Another poster added:

he just went with precision microcast. Didnt even make his own forecast. I guess that leaves you the easy out…”the model was wrong” if you bust.

Followed by the closer:

Geoff fox may be right for THE WRONG REASONS based on the available data its STUPID to forecast what he did. Whoeever said it was based on that POS microcast was right. Thats exactly what he used he didnt forecast at all, use thermal profiles, etc. I refrained from emailing him but its sad. Even Brad Field told me “WOW…hes nuts, i would sell my house if we dont get accumulation on the shore”

This is one of the saddest things ive seen come out of that weather center

Brad is my friend. I’m sure I’ve said worse about him. No foul.

You know, it wasn’t too long ago this stuff would have bothered me. I’m on TV. I understand people will judge me.

Some people did come to my defense. They’ll be receiving something extra for Christmas.

Here’s the payoff:

Well, it look like Geoff Fox’s forecast will verify yet again. YOU are the crazy one. he was right about everything. The sleet mixed in early and i only got 2 inches here in monroe which northern sw ct. Geoff Fox is RIGHT most of the time. he forecasts reality. don’t get me wrong, I LOVE SNOW! but the pattern we are in is not bringing much of it here and Geoff has forecast basically every storm right so far this year. so don’t bash his forecasts till they bust, because in this case, you and everyone else busted.

Ah, sweet revenge.

Truth is, any forecast can be a bust – even one prepared with all due diligence. That’s why I sweat them all out. It’s the most nerve wracking part of my job.

Though one poster accused me of using a single computer model out of the box, I put a lot of thought into what I finally forecast and use a lot of tools in getting there. There are charts and maps and columns of numbers from multiple computer models.

I’m a math geek. I love this stuff.

I am ultimately responsible. It’s my decision… my voice… not some suite of models and simulations. I apologize when wrong. Thankfully, not often enough that the guy who said I’d blame the models would have ever seen me do it.

I’ll tell you a secret. This is real ‘inside baseball’ stuff and I won’t be offended if you’re bored.

My number one job is not accuracy. Please, don’t get me wrong, accuracy is important. If I’m not accurate, people will stop watching. It’s just not number one.

My main goal is to tell a useful and memorable story. I need to leave the audience with an understanding of what will happen. If I’ve done my job right, they will viscerally understand the weather to come.

A forecast is worthless if it can’t be conveyed to the audience in a useful fashion – no matter how accurate

And, in reality, there is no practical difference between 3″ or 5″ or 7″ of snow. They all have virtually the same effect. They are dealt with the very same way. With 3″ or 5″ or 7″ of snow, schools will close, plows will roll, traffic will snarl and nighttime activities will stop.

That’s why using graphics derived from a single model is OK, even when they differ slightly from my ideal forecast. I would rather use an effective tool to connect an idea to the viewer rather than throw it out, especially when its deviation from my thoughts is inconsequential.

&#185 – I’m not going to publish the link and would rather it not be included in comments.

Sobering Thought

This comes from Matt Scott, not me, but I’m in total accord.

What happens if the Writers Guild strike lasts to Christmas? You know me – every year I impatiently wait for Darlene Love to sing Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home) on Letterman.

Matt wonders if they’ll come back for that one night? It’s doubtful. I’m afraid no contract, no Darlene.

That’ll really be a Blue Christmas (without you).

My Favorite Spam

I’m not sure how this got through my spam filters, but I’m glad it did. Finally, the Christmas spirit makes it through!

If it’s possible to have a favorite spam, this is it.


Where You’re From

Helaine started it with a couch conversation Sunday evening. She wondered, as I had in the past, where were you while you were reading this blog? The numbers are in, and I’m a little surprised.

About 100 of you have left a note on my website over the past few days, telling me where you are. Since I average over 1,000 page reads a day, it’s a significant, though not overpowering percentage of my readers. 59 of that group are reading in Connecticut.

That Connecticut number is a stunner, because website stat programs paint a very different picture. I tried to address this a few days ago and was a little confusing. Two of you responded, though it seems my poor choice of words let you miss the point.

Most ‘regular’ readers come in through the home page (or read my most recent entries through my RSS feed using Yahoo!, Google or an installed feed reader). Most out-of-state readers are probably here after following a search engine link which brought them to an older entry. They never saw my home page or my request.

Most of you (not all of you) know me from my job on TV. I’m not sure how that will affect my writing going forward… if it affects it at all. I already parse my words, remaining ever alert that what I say on my private website can reflect on my very public life.

A number of the respondents left their web address. That gave me a chance to take a peek at them.

Marko in Dayton, Ohio also has a blog – though no entries since April. He has built some pretty cool Pinewood Derby race cars with his son, referred to as “#2.”

Doug Harris is also a blogger and also stopped blogging in April. Did something happen in April I didn’t hear about?

Mike, in Arlington, VA has a website with a cool name: RadioMojo. His home page explains he’ll no longer be doing whatever it was RadioMojo did. Its date: April 25th.

You can’t make this stuff up.

A reader name Mumbles linked to his photos on Flickr. There’s a lot to like here. I enjoy looking at other photographers work, trying to find ways to improve mine.

I wonder if Mumbles knew I’d look at his work… or guessed I’d tell you to look? He probably wanted me to look at them. Mission accomplished.

Chuck Schultz sent his photo link too. He’s into racing cars and dogs. You can tell a lot about a person by their photos. Dogs are very photogenic. They never mind posing nor care if you take too many photos.

I wonder if there was a downside to growing up as Charles Schultz… but not ‘the’ Charles Schultz.

Chuck is a ham operator. There are a bunch of them here. I wrote an article recently in the national ham radio magazine, QST. I’m sure that brought some of them to my site.

Jeff in Muncie, Indiana is a ham too, with a blog and a podcast. That’s an undertaking. I listened to some of his latest entry about Hiram Percy Maxim, in many ways the father of ham radio. The podcast sounds like the kind of first class radio production you often hear on NPR.

Jeff has links on his blog… though none to me. I like links.

Am I boring you? You don’t have to read this if I’m boring you.

My father left a message. My sister left a message. My cousin left a message.

Meredith has put much of her life online in a free form way. That’s how this website started, but I found it too difficult to be free form on the web, which cries out for structure.

John, from “The new and exciting Bridgeport, CT” linked to his family’s website. I like this idea a lot, but I like reading “Christmas letters”.

My friend Kevin’s family just put up a family blog with my help. With four girls out in the world, often away from their Connecticut roots, their blog promises to keep the family closer.

Adam left a link for his blog. It is the antithesis of this one in that I have long entries while Adam is often satisfied with a few words or a sentence.

I like his reference to your worst hair decision ever.

When I was a kid, a new barber-in-training cut my hair so short that even pre-teen Geoff knew he was in trouble. I’m still cringing over that. The guy who owned the shop told me to come back in a few days and the hair would have grown back enough to repair the damage.

More recently, a news director sent me to her hair stylist, who proceeded to make me look like Lyle Lovett. Even Lyle Lovett doesn’t want to look like Lyle Lovett. And, I still had to wear the hair on-the-air. Mortifying!

Damon Scott checked in from Lubbock, TX. I’ve written about Lubbock a lot recently, because of the TV Guide Channel reality show about a Lubbock newsroom. They seem to be in reruns, because the DVR hasn’t recorded anything the last two weeks.

Damon is a jock, doing afternoon drive on Mix100. His photo is nowhere to be found on the station’s website. I looked. I always look for disk jockey photos.

When I was a disk jockey, I used to answer the ‘hitline’ trying to pick up girls who were calling to request songs. My first day in radio (really) I got a call from Jeanine, who told me about the sexual failings of a station’s newsman.

There is a medical term to describe his unfortunate haste. Jeanine was a little more blunt.

Damon – don’t pick up hitline chicks.

Actually, maybe they email photos first now? Damon, use your best judgment.

McD is another blogger who wrote back. His home page has a very nice line drawing of him (I think) in the upper left corner.

There’s something very folksy about the sketch. If it’s possible to make a web page folksy, it’s mission accomplished by virtue of this little sketch.

You told me where you were and you told me from all over the United States. Most responses came from people I don’t know, though there are many readers who I count in my extended group of friends.

Seamus. Ireland. Cool. Thanks. I even know how to properly pronounce it! You are are token foreigner,

As long as you’ve read this far, I’ll let you in on something. I really enjoy knowing you read this.

Though smaller, by far, than the audience I reach on television, this is a much more personal medium. I try to speak my mind and hope you will still think kindly of me even as I reveal myself as a guy lots of faults and insecurities.

I worry you’ll tire of me, or I’ll become boring to you. I want to stay fresh and write meaningful things, but is that possible when you force yourself to compose at the keyboard every single day? I don’t know.

More than one a friend in LA has picked up on something trivial I’ve written about and said, “no one wants to know you ate corn last night.” We depend on our friends for life’s true wisdom.

At the bottom of this screen and on every computer I use on a regular basis, there is a counter. Every 15 or 20 minutes it tallies the page hits to my website. I look at it all the time.

At 3:00 AM EDT it resets to zero. I don’t like that part.

Everyone’s At Ikea

“What do you do with your photos,” I’ve been asked? Considering I’ve taken around 25,000 shots with my Canon, it’s a reasonable question.

For a while, I did nothing. Then, this fall and again a few weeks ago, I had picture books made. I’ve also had some shots printed. I was well over 10,000 shots taken before that began.

I started with 5x7s and 8x10s. They seemed reasonably large. After all, a ‘regular’ photo print is 4×6 and 8×10 is four times larger than that!

Then I visited my friend Peter in Ventnor City, NJ.

Peter has a few immense prints on his wall and they look great. Some he took at the Jersey Shore. Other shots came from Hawaii.

I stood and stared and, quite honestly, was envious. They really did look great.

Today, I drove to Ikea in New Haven to find some frames, so I could hang my soon-to-arrive larger sized prints.

Ikea is a chain of large warehouse-like home furnishings stores. The home office is in Sweden, the stores are found worldwide and most of the merchandise is made in China.

The secret to Ikea’s success is very clean, simply styled, inexpensive stuff for your home or apartment. It’s mostly unassembled, so you can carry it home in your car. With Ikea, there’s no longer a need to have that brick and board bookshelf!

Though the store is a warehouse, it’s very inviting. Picture frames are hung. Fixtures are lit. Furniture is displayed in partitioned off home and apartment sized rooms.

I got off I-95, turned into the parking lot and gasped. It was Sunday afternoon at 4:00 PM and Ikea’s lot looked like the mall on the last shopping day before Christmas!

I may be a guy, but I do ask directions. I might still be wandering around if I hadn’t.

I was disappointed they didn’t have everything I wanted. All my frames are simple and black. I wanted more of the same.

I bought a few 16x20s and a 5-photo frame which displays 5x7s. I wanted some 12x16s and more 8×10 frames, but there were none to be found in black. I can go back or try them online.

On my way back I stopped at Michael’s to get a matte cut. One photo from my last batch was oddly sized.

I uploaded and ordered more prints tonight. I’m now ready to attack the two walls set aside as my gallery. It’s pretty exciting and a lot of fun.

And, on top of that, I hit Ikea and Michael’s in one afternoon! How many guys will admit to that?

Lewis Black Comes To Connecticut

I am so excited. For Christmas/Chanukah/Kwanzaa, Helaine gave me tickets to see Lewis Black at what was the Oakdale, and is now the Chevrolet Theater.

When I tell people we’re going to see Lewis Black there are two reactions:

1) I love him. He’s so funny.

2) Who?

Helaine is in the twos. I’m with the ones. Hopefully she’ll be converted Saturday night.

Lewis is a writer/comedian who’s been around for years. Hell, he’s even older than me!

His weekly appearances on The Daily Show have greatly increased his visibility. On top of that, Jon Stewart treats him with total deference… treatment befitting a comedy god, if you will.

I’m trying to think of a way to describe him for you ‘group two’s’ reading this. He’s witty. He’s biting. He is manic in his movement and speech. He does a lot of finger pointing and thrusting. He sees the absurdity in most of life.

He’s also a little tough on meteorologists. That includes one rant that had me on the floor laughing.

The thought crossed my mind – I’m TVboy. I know people at The Chevy. Maybe Lewis is having a meet and greet and I could wangle an invite?

No such luck. No one will be met.

Now that I’ve thought it through, a meet and greet would be totally contrary to Lewis’ persona. I’m strangely happier he won’t be having one! Anyway, my friend Howard, a successful Hollywood talent manager, says you should never meet those you admire. They’re always a disappointment.

I look forward to seeing Lewis from the audience, where I belong.

She’s Outta Here

Attention college students. Do you actually know how good you’ve got it?

Steffie got out of school a few days before Christmas. She’s still home, though this is the last day. After dinner tonight, she’s outta here, on her way back to college.

That’s a full month plus, with spring break, weekends and a full (and very long) summer still to come.

Jealous? Me? Sure.

It was a great break for her. Over the summer she worked at a store in a local mall. She went back and worked there this month too. She’ll be returning to school with a nice wad of cash.

It was also a great break for us as a family. It’s a more mature Steffie I see. She’ll probably wince when she reads this, but she is more understanding of others, more polite, more willing to help.

Don’t get me wrong. She’s still 19. These traits sometimes temporarily disappear. But the changes I see are likely to be permanent.

It makes you stop and think, has she caught on to what she’s doing now and how it will impact the rest of her life? I know youth is wasted on the young, but at sometime you do grow up. I sense that’s happening now.

I will miss her when she’s gone.

Antlers Off

A few weeks ago I put antlers on my car. Tonight they came off.

As with Christmas lights, antlers age poorly after December 25.

This was a good experiment, as experiments go. No one had anything bad to say about the two growths sticking up over the roof of my car. In fact, most people thought it was a good idea. I even had a few people ask me where to get them (mine were a gift).

They are not babe magnets. Sorry.

As long as I’m at it, a fancy sports car isn’t a babe magnet either. There is only one sure fire babe magnet – a cute dog.

There are a few downsides to sporting antlers. Though they slip over the top of the passenger and drivers side windows, the fit is not air tight. In other words, there’s wind noise in the car.

If you’re not careful, when you roll your window down, the antlers can detach and fall to the pavement. At work we have to swipe a card to enter the parking lot. I only had to retrieve the antlers once.

Also, the antlers are exposed to whatever you’re driving in. Tonight it was rainy. I removed two very wet antlers and a saturated red nose. Yuck!

If Steffie doesn’t steal… uhhhh… borrow them, they’ll be back. For the time being, they’re safely tucked away in the garage waiting for next December.

Best Christmas Gift – Guaranteed

What are you getting for Christmas (or Chanukah)? No matter what it is, I’ll bet I can tell you about someone who getting something better. It’s my friend Kevin.

Kevin was diagnosed with inoperable pancreatic cancer in early July. It came out of the blue. He has been undergoing vigorous chemotherapy treatment, but this is a terrible cancer – maybe the worst.

The one thing that struck me about Kevin is, he has remained positive. I don’t think I could pull that off. His determination and his spirit have not wavered one iota.

The opening rounds of chemo were ineffective. The cancer continued to spread from his pancreas to his liver.

You’ve got to figure, after two failed chemo formulations things were pretty bleak. After all, the ‘best’ drugs are administered first.

Then on the third go ’round, Kevin wrote…

We finally got the initial results for the CAT Scan tonight

Darlene Returns With Dave

I can’t believe I almost forgot! It wasn’t until a few minutes before I left work that I remembered it was the night of Darlene Love’s annual appearance with David Letterman.

Actually, Friday night on Letterman must have been really weird for Cate Blanchett. She was the middle guest, between Jay Thomas’ yearly retelling of the Lone Ranger story and his football toss (trying to knock a meatball off a Christmas tree) and Darlene Love’s singing Christmas (Baby, please come home).

There must have been a “what am I doing here moment” for poor Cate.

This was not the best I’ve ever seen Darlene. But, to paraphrase an old saying, even her worst would be amazing.

This is a big budget night with strings, extra horns, a standup bass and various percussionists. As ridiculous as it sounds, I enjoyed hearing Paul count down (1,2,1,2,3,4) under Dave’s intro.

I remember seeing a full gospel chorus backing Darlene a few years ago. This year it was nine singers. Hey, nine is a pretty big number.

Not everything was perfect. It looked like the timing for the ‘delivery’ of Bruce Kapler&#185 and his saxophone was off, but the effect was still nice. He came out in red, head-to-toe.

I so look forward to this performance every year. A minute or two before it aired, I switched on my homebuilt DVR. This afternoon, I edited a clean version which now sits on my computer desktop.

It isn’t Christmas without Darlene Love.

&#185 – I originally credited the sax playing to David Sandborn. I appreciate the correction.

Twentieth Anniversary

Sometime over the next few days, we mark an anniversary in my family. Twenty years ago, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.

Had this been in her mother’s time, or even earlier in her own life, my mom would have died. It is a medical miracle that my mom and so many other women are breast cancer survivors&#185.

That’s not to say it was easy or not without consequences. This was a life changing experience for her. But, twenty years later, my mom is healthy and happy and incredibly active.

I will be forever grateful to the medical community that developed these miracles of modern science – because they really are nothing short of miracles.

It was an emotional time for us for a number of reasons. My parents had just moved to Connecticut from Queens. They were strangers out of their comfort zone in a life threatening situation. And, Helaine was pregnant, expecting in June.

The surgery had been successfully performed a few days earlier, but my mom was still at Yale/New Haven Hospital around this time, the week before Christmas.

Christmas is a quiet week in the hospital. Most elective surgery is postponed. If you’re there, you’re there because time is of the essence.

One night, while my mom was still recuperating, Helaine and I headed to the hospital to visit. While we were there, our friend and neighbor Ron Feinberg walked into the room.

He was finishing his medical training at Yale, and he too was stuck in the hospital on Christmas Eve (along with every other berg, stein, man and witz).

Things were quiet and he had an offer. Would we like to take a peek at our child? This was about the last possible thing we could have expected, but Helaine and I were game, so we followed Ron through the nearly deserted hospital and into an examining room.

As Ron passed the ultrasound transducer over Helaine’s belly, a video screen showed random noise… and then… Oh my God, it was a child.

We both stared at the screen silently.

Most people look at an ultrasound picture and try to figure out whether their child will be a boy or a girl. Silently, we did too… except Steffie’s body ended at the waist. Whether she had her legs tucked under her, or was in some contorted position, all we could see was we had a “stump baby!”

We actually both came to that conclusion independently, but never told Ron. He looked at the video as an OB/GYN, not a parent, and pronounced our unborn child healthy. And, she was.

Seeing our child for the first time, even with the less than perfect imagery of an ultrasound machine, was an amazing experience we’ll never forget. Getting that sneak peek and realizing my mom would live to cherish her grandchild, made it the most amazing gift ever.

In early June, Steffie was born right there at Yale/New Haven. She was not a stump.

&#185 Because the breast is composed of identical tissues in males and females, breast cancer can also occur in males, although cases of male breast cancer account for less than one percent of the total.

Busy Sunday

Another beautiful winter’s day in Connecticut.

Sure it’s Sunday, but it’s also the third night of Chanukah&#185 – the Jewish Festival of Lights.

It is not ‘our Christmas’ – though I sense the hoopla over this lesser holiday is our defense mechanism. It’s tough to compete with Christmas.

Trust me – growing up Stef never objected to eight nights of gifts. She probably still doesn’t!

Every year around this time, our friends Harvey and Sandy throw a Chanukah party. We weren’t able to go to the last few, but said yes tonight.

Then we saw the calendar. The Eagles would be playing the Giants in a meaningful game right as the party was getting underway.

Hey, a commitment is a commitment. We went and had a great time.

There’s a special tradition that goes with this party, though we only knew a few of the 50 or so adults and children there. Along with the people and the food and the being incredibly jealous of whatever new adult toys Harvey has acquired in the past year, there is the lighting of the menorahs.

Each night during Chanukah, at sunset, one additional candle is lit on the menorah (One the first night, two the second, and so on), accompanied by a few Hebrew prayers. I’m not particularly religious, but this is tradition worth keeping, especially with all the kids this year.

Before we left our house, Helaine and I decided we’d record the football game and then try and avoid any mention of it. But seriously, how could a Giants game be ignored here in Giant’s territory?

As it turned out, no one said a word about the game. We were stunned. Does this speak to the athleticism of Jews, or Harvey and Sandy’s friends, or did we just luck out and avoid discussions that were ongoing, but out of earshot?

When it was time to go home, we headed out with the radio off. By the time we picked up this 4:00 o’clock game, it was nearly 9:00PM.

If you’re a football fan, you already know, the Eagles won. If you’re not a football fan, you don’t care. This entry will no game details.

There is one observation I must make. Helaine and I were surprised… no, astounded, to see the Eagles win. This was especially true, since they were their own worst enemy with stupid penalties at crucial times. The Giants didn’t take advantage and the Eagles didn’t quit.

I believe this Sunday was a total success.

&#185 – Chanukah, being a Hebrew word, is only approximated in English. This spelling is one of many. I am of the personal opinion that if you say it right, people near you will get wet.

Pursuit Of Happyness

It was beautiful outside Saturday. Another mild and sunny December day and another day closer to spring. We decided to go to the movies.

Actually, it’s not as simple as that. I proposed dinner and a movie, which would have worked, except Helaine remembered the Cowboys-Falcons game was on tonight.

Please – hold your jealousy. I did win the marriage lottery.

We caught a 4:25 showing of Pursuit of Happyness, the new Will Smith film. Actually, 4:25 was the announced time. The movie started 15 minutes later – no exaggeration!

Enough with the commercials. Haven’t I already paid to see the movie?

By now you probably know, but “Happyness” is spelled as it is because of an inscription on a wall seen in the movie. But the actual concept, “pursuit of happiness” (as in life, liberty and the pursuit of…) is what drives the movie’s lead character, played by Will Smith.

He philosophizes about Jefferson’s reasons for framing happiness in this way in a series of disembodied voice overs.

Smith plays San Franciscan Chris Gardner – a man smarter and more motivated than his position in life would indicate. The movie chronicles Gardner’s struggle to succeed while maintaining a centered life for his son.

It’s ‘based’ on a true story. That’s another way of saying it isn’t a true story. Hollywood takes many liberties between reality and celluloid. Many of the crises faced by Smith’s character were one or two notches too tough to ring true.

Helaine cried through much of the final moments. I cried a little at the very end. As the movie ended, applause nearly broke out. It ended up being a unrequited smattering.

Helaine was definitely more satisfied with what was on the screen than I was. It was just too depressing for too long.

Sure, I knew a Will Smith Christmas release was going to end happy. It just took too long to get there.

Other than Will Smith, who did a fine job, three performances need mentioning.

Jaden Christopher Syre Smith, Smith’s 8 year son, plays his son on screen. There were lines to be delivered and emotions to be portrayed. That’s tough for most 8 year olds. In his case, the performance was effortless and believable. I have no problem with this ‘vanity casting.’

Dan Castellaneta was one of Smith’s bosses. There was nothing to make him stand out, except… Hello… this is Homer Simpson! Castellaneta is the guy who made “d’oh” a household word.

Why bother with a little, inconsequential, part like this?

Finally, James Karen played Smith’s big boss at the brokerage firm. Fine actor. Good portrayal. You’ve seen him a thousand times in films and TV, even if you don’t know the name.

But, isn’t this the guy who was the Pathmark man for a few decades&#185? I tried to put that aside.

Score this movie a big hit for Helaine and OK, but too slow and depressing for me. It was nice to see Will Smith in a serious role. That wasn’t enough.

&#185 – It is.