E.G.F.

My First Experience with Disappointment at the Hands of a TV Network

When I was 5, my favorite show was Mighty Mouse.  I loved it.  I dressed as Mighty Mouse for Halloween, brushed my teeth with a Mighty Mouse electric toothbrush, wore Mighty Mouse Underoos, and watched the cartoon religiously.  It was on channel 56 at 2:30 every weekday.  And every weekday, after school, my best friend, Michael, and I would watch it together.  

Until one day it wasn’t on anymore.  I came home at 2:30, turned the TV to channel 56, and something else was on.  I don’t remember what.  At first I was confused.  I checked all of the other stations.  Couldn’t find it.  Then I tried to make sense of it.  Maybe I was too early.  Maybe it’s on after this shitty show that I don’t want to watch right now.  But it wasn’t.  There was just another shitty show.  And then another.

Eventually, I brought my Mother into the room and explained the situation.  I wanted her to figure it out, since I couldn’t.  But what she figured out was that Mighty Mouse was no longer on TV.  She explained that the network, must have decided not to show it anymore.  Why?  She couldn’t tell me.  Would it ever be on again?  She didn’t know.  What could I do to change this?  Nothing.  It was over.  I would not be watching Mighty Mouse anymore.  

It was a helpless feeling, and a feeling I didn’t experience again until 30 years later when my own TV show was canceled, just as abruptly.   I went through the same emotions.  I was confused.  We had verbally been told by Spike TV that we were picked up for 13 episodes only 5 days earlier.  And this was after months of improved ratings and nothing but positive feedback.  I tried to make sense of it.  Maybe Spike was just posturing, trying to get the studio to drop the 5% increase they wanted in the licensing fee for the show.  They weren’t.

I looked to my Agents for an explanation.  They didn’t have one.  They explained that the network had just decided not to renew the show.  They weren’t giving reasons.  At least not believable ones.  Why?  They couldn’t tell me.  Was it over for good?  Lionsgate was working on bringing it to another network, but the chances of that were very slim.  What could I do to change this?  Nothing.  It was over.  I wouldn’t be making Blue Mountain State anymore.

I randomly ran into an executive from Spike last week.  It was the first time we had seen or talked to each other since the show had been canceled.  It was the first time, because after three years of working together, He hadn’t bothered to call, or email, or text, to personally tell me that he was canceling the show.  To thank me for the work I put in.  To thank me for giving his network their first ever successful scripted comedy.  I had heard about the canceling second, and third hand, and didn’t even know for sure if it was true until I read about it online.

It was awkward seeing him.  I could tell it was just as awkward for him.  He said, “I’m sorry thing didn’t work out with the show.  They should have.”  What I wanted to say was “No shit they should have.  What else do you have?”  But instead I shrugged and said “I understand these things happen.”  I understand because I learned it when I was 5.  And nothing has changed since then.  And nothing will.  I love TV.  I love working in TV.  Shows are paper in the wind.  And I accept that because I have no choice. 

Guns N Roses: Hollywood Palladium 3/9/12

“My youth is gone. I’m never getting it back.  All of those things that made me happy once have since died or become obsolete.  I’m closer to 50 than I am to 20.  What have I done with my life?  At what age am I going to die?  My grandfather was diagnosed with cancer at 49 and died at 57.  I’m only 22 years away from that. My stomach hurts. I wish this night never happened.”  

Not exactly what you want running through your head during a rock show.  The purpose of a rock shows is to evoke joy, fun, anarchy, or at the very least a little slice of entertainment.  This show evoked a mid-life crisis.  

Expectations:  I have to admit, my expectations for this show were high.  Higher than they should have been.  Nostalgia made me an optimist.  GNR will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame next month.  There have been rumors swirling since the announcement that the original members, Axl, Slash, Duff, Izzy, and Steven Adler, could reunite for the one time only induction concert.  So when I heard about this show; relatively small venue in LA, announced only a week ago, I thought maybe, just maybe, this could be a warm up for the HOF reunion.  That maybe, even if it’s just for one song, the original members would take the stage and play together.  Like I said, higher than they should have been.

At the very least I thought I was in for a balls out, rock and roll concert.  I was one of the few people who actually liked, and still like, the Chinese Democracy album.  I thought, if that’s what I get, then it’ll be worth the $100 price of admission. What I got instead was closer to a shitty Vegas Review. Axl, with his hired band, playing the songs, old and new, note for note, like they learned them out of a book.  And with so much faked emotion that it became insulting.  I honestly felt insulted by them.  Jumping around on stage.  Trying to drum up unearned passion from the crowd.  It felt personal. They’ve been my favorite band since I was twelve years old.  Even when Axl went off the deep end, I always defended him.  But last night was so bad that at one point I contemplated making my way up to the front row, just so I could dump my beer on Axl’s boots.  I wanted him to know how disappointing it was for me.  I wanted him to at least hear that.  

Instead, I left.  I knew what was coming next anyway.  More of the same.  Heartbrake on top of heartbrake on top of heartbreak.   Even if the reunion did happen, I wouldn’t want to see it. Axl of old is gone.  So are the rest of them.  Seeing them together would only solidify what I’d already learned that night.  That nothing can ever be what it was again.