Book Review - Let Them

In the fourth season episode of Mad Men entitled The Summer Man, Don Draper, having spent months drowning his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle of rye whiskey, finds himself in a contemplative mood. Banging away on at his typewriter, we hear him in voice over poring out his thoughts. People tell us who they are but we ignore it because we want them to be who we want them to be he observes, essentially repacking the oft-quoted line from Maya Angelou that when people tell you who they are, believe them the first time. 

I thought about that scene while breezing through Mel Robbins's book Let Them. A self-help bestseller Robbins pulls a few Draper-esque tricks of her own. The big breakthrough, the revolutionary thought that apparently so struck none other than Oprah Winfrey, one finds in this book is that you can't control other peoples' behavior, only your own. Like yeah, no shit. If someone is being a jerk, let them. If someone is being pouty and uncommunicative, let them. You can't force people to change and so if you just "let them" be themselves you will have less stress in your life, feel more secure and confident, etc etc. But there is a second step, one not in the book's title, that is equally important - "Let me." Here, the focus is on your own agency, your own accountability, your own free will to make decisions.

It all has the benefit of being pithy (the chapters are cut into bite sized pieces) and Robbins is at the read with convenient examples from her own life (that I have to believe are at least slightly embellished only because they SO PERFECTLY prove her point) to show how to recalibrate your thinking. An early example she cites is one where she is scrolling through Instagram and sees photos of some casual friends of hers on a girls trip that she (Robbins) was not invited to. Her initial reaction is to feel hurt and snubbed (understandable) but then pauses to acknowledge that these are not friends she is particularly close to and that she (Robbins) had done very little to maintain the friendships. Reframing the incident in these terms both allowed her to let go of her anger and hurt. She could not change her friends' behavior and she also saw that her anger was misplaced since she was also at fault for letting the friendships wilt. 

And if you want, I don't know 150 plus pages of this kind of stuff, it's there for you to read. Robbins takes these lessons into the workplace, the home, and to family and friends alike. But it dawned on me as she went on and on that all she was doing was taking the famed serenity prayer (Lord give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference) and putting her own spin on it. In the last third, Robbins cribbed another saying I am fond of - comparison is the thief of joy - as she discussed how to get past feelings of inadequacy or jealousy at what others have. So instead of feeling envy at someone else's success, you would ask that person what they did to achieve that success if you want it to. If you see someone on TV living large, instead of feeling jealous, be appreciative of the things you have because others are worse off than you. And so on. And perhaps there is a lesson in this one because I finished this book amazed that someone could simply take ideas that are basically in the public domain, put her own spin on it, and sell millions of books. 

Resident Alien

When Resident Alien premiered, I was hooked immediately. It was, to say the least, unconventional - a show about an extraterrestrial sent to Earth to destroy it who assumes the identity of a man he kills in a small town in Colorado that has Native American influences and an oddball cast of characters. But in the hands of show runner Chris Sheridan it somehow worked. Alan Tudyk, starring as the alien (in human form a doctor named Harry Vanderspiegle) brought an offbeat combination of deadpan humor and smarmy pretentiousness to the lead role. The fish-out-of-water aspect allowed for the inclusion of plenty of pop culture references (Harry learns English watching Law & Order reruns and becomes an obsessive fan of Jerry Orback), no-filter comments (after being admonished about his bedside manner with a patient, Harry gently reassures a female patient she was smart to come in and have a lump in her breast examined before blurting out "now let's see that tit"), and an outsider's observation of the human condition.

It was there that the show hinged. Harry thinks Earthlings are poor stewards of the planet they live on (which is why he is going to destroy it) but his interactions with *actual* human beings begins to change his mind. He is called into town to investigate the murder of the Sam Hodges, the town doctor, and meets Asta Twelvetrees, the lead nurse at the town clinic, who he strikes up an uneasy friendship with as they try to figure out how Sam was killed. He also comes into contact with the neurotic Mayor (Ben), the overly confident Sheriff (Mike), his deputy (Liv) and is clocked as an alien by Ben's son Max, who is able to "see" Harry's alien form even though it's camoflouged in (the real) Harry's body. 

And for the first five or six episodes of that first season, it clicked on all cylinders. There were the humorous asides like Harry getting high with Asta and her best friend D'Arcy, who owns The 59, the local bar, and getting the munchies, or clumsily googling information while giving a pelvic exam to a female patient, blended with elements of spirituality, particularly as it relates to Native American culture. Part of the reason Harry begins rethinking his assessment of humans is a visit he and Asta take to a reservation where he meets and hangs out with her extended family. Of course, all of this is being done while Harry is frantically looking for the device he was supposed to detonate to destroy the planet and also hiding his identity from everyone, but it worked. The show balanced its science fiction elements with a sensibility that reminded me of shows like Northern Exposure, Ed, and Newhart, all of which also incorporated small towns and quirky characters into a satisfying narrative. 

The worm turned slightly towards the end of that first season when Asta learns of Harry's true nature as the two are stranded in an ice glacier where Harry's doomsday device was located but it did not seem to be that big a deal until the second season opened. The show was a modest hit and received good critical buzz so its second season episode order was increased from the ten that aired to eighteen. The second season lost so much of what made the first season great. The humanist elements, the day-to-day in Patience, Colorado, the exploration of the characters all got shunted aside as the show went all in on the "alien" aspect of its storytelling. Suddenly there were multiple alien species all vying for control (or destruction) of Earth. The secret government agency that was also tracking Harry in season one became more prominent and the show simply lost its grounding while also being bloated and having episodes go by where seemingly nothing happened.  The resolution of Sam's murder was, of all things, that the real Harry Vanderspiegle was the culprit, but instead of mining that revelation for plot building, it was resolved quickly and never mentioned again until the show's finale. 

This reversal led to a significant cut in the third season order to just eight episodes, which suffered from the same problems as the second season. It was almost as if the writers had forgotten what made the show good in the first place and simply could not get out of the storytelling box they had placed themselves in. Ratings suffered and I often found myself asking why I was even still watching the show. Gone was the charm and humor of the early episodes. The clinic, a source of much of the humor in the show, was largely jettisoned. Side stories, like Asta's relationship with Jay, her daughter that she gave up for adoption as a child, withered, and the main focus became the idea that aliens were snatching residents of Patience and taking their children. It was dark and unsettling, while also drifting further and further from the show's roots. 

Surprisingly, at least to me, the show got a fourth season renewal and it finally got closer to its origins only to have the network bigwigs decide that this would be the show's final season. At least it somewhat got back to what it did best in season one. Yes, the alien aspect was still there (something called a Mantid shape shifts into different forms when it's not murdering people and lopping their heads off) but the human element came back to the fore. Harry, now stripped of his alien powers (don't ask) fully appreciates and understands what it means to be a human. His interactions with Asta's family help him understand how people connect with one another and how we are connected to the Earth we inhabit. It was these grace notes that I always thought were at the core to the show's appeal, the voice overs Harry provided that talked about the complex and often frustrating experience it is to be alive but how we strive to help, connect with, and support one another. It was a relentlessly optimistic view of humanity that was too often missing from this middle seasons where I think the show probably lost many of its viewers. 

I will always believe there was a better version of the show that could have been made but also cherish the laugh out loud moments it provided. When the real Harry's wife shows up a few episodes into the first season and it looks like he'll be leaving Patience, he seethes with jealousy as everyone fawns over Dr. Ethan, his replacement. Ethan is good looking and a do gooder (he not only served with Doctors Without Borders but speaks French too) and Harry can't stand him. The two arm wrestle and Harry nearly rips Ethan's arm out of its socket and then peacocks around the bar expecting everyone to congratulate him but of course they are tending to Ethan's who shoulder is relocated into its socket as Harry looks on despondently. By the finale, Ethan is back, except this time, he, like Harry, is inhabited by an alien. Instead of killing him, Harry gets him drunk, as Asta did with him on his first day, and in that moment, the alien experiences a small slice of what it is to be a human and Harry can leave Earth knowing it is no longer in danger. It was a nice call back for long-time fans and an uplifting way to bring the show to an end. 

Sirius Is Not Going To "Fire" Howard Stern

I woke up this morning and fired up the old Twitter machine and saw unsubstantiated rumors that SiriusXM is not going to renew Howard Stern's contract when it expires at the end of the year. Having listened to Howard on and off for more than 35 years, let me be the first to call *partial* BS on this story. 

The man is 71 years old, so the idea he would sign up for another five years was far-fetched to begin with but it's equally far-fetched to believe the company he basically single-handedly saved from bankruptcy would toss him to the curb like some old piece of furniture. Yes, Sirius is a much different (and bigger) company than the one Howard joined in 2006, and his schedule is far more modest than it once was, but I think the more likely scenario is that Howard re-ups for 1-2 years and here is why:

1.    Being able to promote a "farewell" tour for Howard is too lucrative an opportunity for Sirius to pass up, especially since Howard has done so much work to bring in "A" list interviews in recent years. 

2.    While management at the company may not be the same as it was when Howard first started, I have to believe there is an interest in thanking him for his 20 years on the air. He promised an audience and he delivered. The messy litigation he initiated because of a dispute over a bonus he claimed he was owed happened 15 years ago. Otherwise, he shows up to work every day he's contracted to be there, has been a loyal soldier in terms of promoting the company, and, not only saved the company from going under but became the pivot point for the merger between Sirius and XM.

3.    Howard is loyal to his audience and to his staff. He would not leave longtime employees in a lurch where they have less than 4 months before they have to look for new jobs. Re-signing for a year or two will allow his staff to set up their next move. Similarly, it will give fans the chance to say a proper farewell to a guy who has been the soundtrack to their lives. 

So slow your roll, internet. I don't think Howard is going anywhere (for now).  

Book Review - What Is Wrong With Men?

For a roughly 10 year period between 1985 and 1995, Michael Douglas was on what they call in sports a “heater.” Douglas starred a string of box office hits playing everyone from police detectives to the President of these United States. He got flashed by Sharon Stone and went on South American adventures with Kathleen Turner. And at his peak, he nabbed an Academy Award for his portrayal of the venal Wall Street trader Gordon Gecko whose “greed is good” speech helped define the ethos of the Reagan years. 

In Jessa Crispin’s hands, Douglas’s oeuvre is the jumping off point for her examination of modern masculinity in her recently released book What’s Wrong With Men? By examining the characters Douglas played, Crispin argues that you can track the slow death of “the partriarchy” which, in lay terms, was a societal structure where men, whether their colors were white or blue, were assured of a steady job, a stay-at-home wife to care for his kids, and whose primacy was never challenged. Men basically did whatever they wanted and rarely suffered consequences for their actions. 

And in this way, Douglas makes a compelling avatar. Although not technically a baby boomer (Douglas was born in 1944, two years before the start of the post-war baby boom) by the mid-1980s, boomers were ascending into positions of power but doing so in a workplace that was more racially, ethnically, and sexually diverse than ever before. But Douglas’s characters were often at sea in this evolving cultural moment. In movies like Basic Instinct and Fatal Attraction, Douglas is confronted with women who have agency and power, money and lives that are not reliant on the things men were traditionally relied on to offer. He can’t blithely ignore Glenn Close after their weekend fling anymore than he can match the wealth and success of Sharon Stone. The former is done in not by Douglas but his doting wife and the latter outfoxes him and is going to bury an ice pick in him as we fade to black. 

As society evolved during this time period, this sense of emasculation reached its apotheosis (at least in the Douglas canon) in Falling Down, where he plays a divorced, recently laid off defense contractor. Stripped of the traditional roles of husband and provider, Douglas’s character lashes out in ever increasingly violent ways, not against his former employer, but by punching down against those who subject him to petty indignities like the fast food manager who refuses to serve him breakfast as the restaurant shifts to its lunch menu. Falling Down is a sort of canary in a coal mine for the mass shooters of the modern day whose manifestos were littered with similar feelings of inadequacy, frustration, and rage. 

On the other end of the spectrum is Gordon Gecko. Who uses all the tricks in the book to accumulate wealth and power. For decades, this kind of behavior was winked at and nodded to, a passing mention of a deal in a country club locker room or over drinks in a university dining club where no one was the wiser, but those days were coming to an end and Gecko is ultimately brought down by his surrogate son, the dirt under his nails protege who finally realizes that breaking the law in the service of getting rich is not worth losing your soul. 

And it was a bit surprising that Crispin gave Wall Street short shrift in her book because that movie also telegraphed where we are today. The zero sum tactics in that movie, the idea that if you’re not cheating you’re not trying, and that wealth is its own reward perfectly define the era we now live in. Look no further than who is occupying the White House right now and how that person has bent and broken laws, stiffed business partners, and marketed himself as a business genius while hocking everything from crypto coins to sneakers to his gullible supporters who all believe they too can get rich like him. In retrospect, the only surprising thing about Wall Street is that Gecko ends up going to jail. 

In Crispin’s telling, the fall of the patriarchy was simply replaced by a new and equally flawed model - meritocracy - which promised a level playing field but in reality simply allowed people who already had wealth and power to consolidate their standing and shut the door behind them, leaving the masses out in the cold. As Crispin traces this post-patriarchical world, she argues that the splintering of society manifested on the left in renewed interest in socialism (most notably through the Occupy Wall Street movement) and on the right by manosphere influencers and bloggers who preached a lewder, more hateful version of male superiority that belittled women, demonized minorities, and told alienated men they had been sold out. 

But when it comes to offering solutions, like many critics, Crispin is light on details. Perhaps it is because she has a tendency to paint with an overly broad brush, particularly when she directs her fire at the political system. To her, the Sorkin-esque version of government reflected in Douglas’s role as President Andrew Shepherd in The American President, fetishizes a moderate, common sense liberalism divorced from reality and the Obama Administration’s failure to prosecute bankers after the 2008 housing crisis created the space for Trump’s populist pitch to alienated white working class voters. She is also quick to call out the two party system but in doing so, goes too far in suggesting there is no difference between the two. While Crispin is entitled to her opinion, T\that type of nihilism, manifested in voters who turned to Ralph Nader in 2000 and Jill Stein in 2016 had a devastating effect on the future of our nation.  At best, she suggests community-based solutions with low bore stakes that do not demand a CVS receipt-length checklist of qualifications and interpretation of a man’s views of the world in order to have allyship. It’s a weak tea finish for an otherwise engaging and thought provoking book. I encourage you to read it and draw your own conclusions.