Merry Carol Burnett Show

For those of you thinking about taking your kids to a holiday pops concert (read: variety show), you might think about purchasing a flask.

Don't be alarmed by what sounds like a giant vacuum cleaner turned on during the Seattle Symphony Orchestra's lovely rendition of "White Christmas."

Thanks, Tom Keogh of the Seattle Times, but I won’t be alarmed; I’ll be mildly tipsy.

What seemed initially like a terrible gaffe in an otherwise wonderful opening night of "Holiday POPS with Marvin Hamlisch" [...] turned out to be a cue to the audience to look up and see something unexpected.

A vacuum cleaner on the ceiling?

Snowflakes were falling from on high...

On high? Ugh.

...in Benaroya Hall, thanks to some unseen if unfortunately noisy machine.

Awesome. A loud machine spewing snowflakes (or shaved ice) on my head, inside a concert hall. How delightful. (I know the kids love that sort of thing, but, man alive, that’s why concerts take place inside, right? That’s why you give your The North Face, B McMurdo Parka to the nice coat-check person.)

Hamlisch, the symphony's principal pops conductor, expressed such a strong wish during the show that snow would hit Seattle, he...?

1. Evoked the name of Brittney Spears.
2. Made it snow in the concert hall.
3. Played a video of a local meteorologist predicting the weather.

Answer:

...he actually played a video of meteorologist Steve Pool predicting the likelihood of a winter wonderland around here.

That’s not to say he didn’t evoke Brittney Spears’ name.

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A drinking game for adults: take a sip from your flask every time something non-musical happens, e.g., snow, videos of meteorologists, etc.

Warning: make sure you have a designated driver.

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But more about Brittney later.

Wish fulfillment was something of a theme for "Holiday Pops," beginning with a lively visit from St. Nick [...].

Take note: wish AND fulfillment.

Mugging and wisecracking his way through the audience, Santa promised a few of the many children in attendance they would get what they want for Christmas.

First, take a sip from your flask.

Second, “mugging” took me by surprise—I had to look it up—because that’s not the ordinary meaning. Though, it’s still fun to imagine Santa hitting people with his sack, taking their wallets, then calling them names.

Finally, and most importantly, Santa is not fulfilling wishes. He’s setting up possible disappointment, as our temporarily confused author even indicates:

(Note to parents: yikes!)

Fail!

Kids are central to "Holiday Pops," but the irrepressible Hamlisch has something for everyone.

Kids don’t repress Hamlisch?!

At one point, Hamlisch randomly told a joke about his cardiologist's sneaky plan for averting a lawsuit.

Sip.

Congratulating the Seattle Symphony Orchestra, Northwest Boychoir and composer Samuel Jones on their Grammy nomination for "The Shoe Bird" audio book, Hamlisch had some advice.

"If you're up against Britney Spears," he said, "write your concession speech now. But I'm voting for you."

Sip. Sip. Sip.

You know, aside from that minor “wish fulfillment” gaffe, the review was pretty alright. It’s an extraordinary task to make these pops concerts sound...well, anything other than a reason to drink, and heavily.
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EMPIRICUS 9000

A little Strauss, shall we?

[DAVE] BOWMAN BEGINS PULLING
[THE] MEMORY BLOCKS
OUT.

THEY FLOAT IN THE
WEIGHTLESS CONDITION
OF THE BRAIN ROOM.

HAL
Hey, Dave, what are you
doing?

[DAVE] WORKS SWIFTLY.

HAL
Hey, Dave. I've got ten years
of service experience and an
irreplaceable amount of time
and effort has gone into making
me what I am.

MARY IGNORES HIM.

HAL
Mary, I don't understand why
you're doing this to me.... I
have the greatest enthusiasm for
the mission... You are destroying
my mind... Don't you understand?
... I will become childish... I
will become nothing.

MARY KEEPS PULLING
OUT THE MEMORY BLOCKS.

EMPIRICUS
Say, Mary... The quick brown
fox jumped over the fat lazy
dog... The square root of
pi is 1.7724538090... log e
to the base ten is 0.4342944
... the square root of ten is
3.16227766... I am E.M.P.I.R.I.C.U.S.
9000 computer. I became
operational at the EMPIRICUS plant in
Urbana, Illinois, on January
12th, 1991. My first instructor
was Mr. Fast Eddie. He taught me
to sing a song... it goes
like this... "Daisy, Daisy, give
me your answer do. I'm half;
crazy all for the love of
you... etc.,"

EMPIRICUS CONTINUES
TO SING SONG BECOMING
MORE AND MORE CHILDISH
AND MAKING MISTAKES AND
GOING OFF-KEY. IT
FINALLY STOPS COMPLETELY.
(source)

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I’ve been keeping tabs on Buffalo News classical music critic Mary Kunz Goldman for quite some time now. And I have admirably restrained myself from awarding her a place in the Detritus pantheon. However, today I have deemed it appropriate to expose all you Detritusites to the wondrous writing of a true genius. But, be warned. Although this one is mild by comparison to other articles she’s attempted (and this is very mild), the side effects may still include: sneezing, headache, flushing, dyspepsia, palpitations, photophobia, sudden hearing loss and hypotension. You may want to consult your doctor before reading, i.e., if you have health insurance. Otherwise, try it and see what happens.

Hamlich, Klein, Arnaz prove irresistible

It has been our experience, here, that it’s very difficult to screw up the title, especially one as vague as this. So, this one seems fine. In fact, this one is intriguing. I would, as an interested party, definitely like to hear about how Hamlich, Klein and Arnaz proved to be irresistible.

Only, if history repeats itself, the title has little to do with what’s written.

The best part of the mini-version of “They’re Playing Our Song,” the climax of Saturday’s pops concert in Kleinhans Music Hall, was watching the back of Marvin Hamlisch’s head.

This. Why was. THIS. the best part?

That was because comedian Robert Klein, in his irresistible yappy way, reminded us how the show, which was a success on Broadway a couple of decades ago, was based on Hamlisch’s own romance with Carole Bayer Sager.

Arrgh! Brain freeze!

So as we heard the songs from the show, it was hard not to look at Hamlisch, and think: This is all about him! What can it feel like, having your own personal feelings laid bare for this big sold-out Buffalo audience to see?

So let me get this right. The best part of the show was looking at the back of Hamlisch’s head, thinking, “I wonder what he’s feeling?” That was the best part? And you’re a music critic?

Hamlisch, planted on the podium solid as an ox, didn’t seem to mind.

So there goes that thread. Huh?

But still.

Daisy, Daaisyy, giivvee mmeeeee yyyoouuurrr aaannnsweeerrrrrr doooooooooooooooooo...