Tag: Hannah Waddingham

I’m A Ramblin’ Man

And here we are, heading back into a Monday and a brand new work week. My supervisor is currently enjoying herself in London for the next two weeks, which makes me the go-to guy for all things testing related and for my program. It may be stressful and exhausting, or it could be totally smooth sailing. I’m also meeting Dad this weekend in Alabama. I’ll have to pick out a horror novel to listen to in the car….I suppose I could continue listening to the podcast I’m thoroughly enjoying, My Dad Wrote a Porno, but probably will go with a book. I’m going to take a week off later in the month and go up to Kentucky–which means more books to listen to.

It was, in some ways, a rejuvenating kind of weekend; I rested a lot Friday evening and Saturday, and as such, felt good yesterday. It was also a lovely day in New Orleans; I walked around the neighborhood to take pictures of the aftermath of a fire the other night just past the corner of Magazine and Hastings1 (she was renting one of the places for Mardi Gras, and had to find another place, obviously), then walked back home, got in the car because I needed gas, and after fueling her up I went to the Fresh Market. Paul was working with his trainer, and once he got back from the gym we watched two movies–The Fall Guy, which we really enjoyed and was a rather fun, charming movie (you can never go wrong with Emily Blunt, and Ryan Gosling was goofily adorable the way he always is) that had a truly terrific supporting cast as well, including Hannah Waddingham, and a true crime documentary that wasn’t good. I slept really well last night, too, and feel pretty good already this morning. I didn’t do much work on the book this weekend, but I did finish marking up the Scotty books, so that’s done. I also had another idea about structure with this book, which is going to be tricky from hereon out to pull off, but I think I can do it, and that’s a very good thing. I also managed to finally finish my blog entry review of Alison Gaylin’s We Are Watching, but you should have know that already if you stop by regularly. I also didn’t read much this weekend, either; it was more about recovery and rest this past weekend than anything else.

I am, by the way, loving the weather. It’s been so beautiful lately, other than the soggy mess that was Friday, which kicked my sinuses into gear, which was partly why I didn’t get anything done. I need to be more careful of my time, though. I’ve gotten so used to spending the weekend recovering from the week and losing track of time (because I feel like I have so much of it every week when Friday rolls around), so should probably start trying to structure the weekends more so I can get things done. I’d forgotten that when you have more free time you need to structure it a little better–but it’s kind of fun just doing what I want when I want to, I must say. I have to get used to this free time thing, and what a horrible problem for me to have, right? There’s nothing wrong with being ambitious, after all–as long as you don’t let your failure to meet goals (from being lazy and having too much free time) affect your self-worth and stop belittling/demeaning myself. I’ve done pretty well for myself as a writer, overall, and considering I did it all mostly on my own–that’s saying something.

I think one of the most important things for me going forward is to cure myself of Imposter Syndrome; I know I’ve talked about how I was raised and how I was taught to be about work–keep your ego out of it2 and let others see the work you do and let them appreciate it. The problem is people never like to let a writer know they enjoyed something–but they do know how to register an outraged opinion. I do the best I can with everything I write, and if I am a better writer than I was twenty-five years ago, good. (I must confess, revisiting Scotty to do the Bible was a pleasant surprise, as the books are actually good.) I also know that there’s nothing I can’t do or achieve if I set my mind to it and plan and stick to it. I did think a lot about writing this weekend–and what are the things I want to write and do over the next few years. It’s so lovely being clear-headed, seriously–you have no idea. The fog is clearing! I feel like GREG again for the first time in nearly a decade. And I’m kind of excited about it, if that makes sense? For example, I saw a news story the other day that gave me not only an insight but a clue to how to fix “Festival of the Redeemer”; that will be fun to rewrite and fix. I also had some thoughts and ideas for Never Kiss a Stranger, Muscles, Chlorine, and the next Scotty–French Quarter Flambeaux, another Mardi Gras novel. I had hoped to revise a short story for a submission call that’s due on the 15th, but I don’t think I’ll have the time to get something ready for it. I do have a story that might fit and needs resolution in a revision, though. There’s still time, of course, but I am not writing as fast as I used to be able to do. Maybe once the muscles get more warmed up? One never knows, does one?

I just saw the Milton forecast, which has me worried and concerned for my central Florida peeps. Take care and be safe, everyone!

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day–may be back later!

  1. If you’re a local and don’t know where Hastings is, you’re not alone. I didn’t, either, until she stayed there on a visit sometime in the last few years. It’s one of those little streets in the lower Garden District that only exist for a block or so. It also joins into the intersection at Magazine and Felicity; there are two lanes that veer off to the right to stay on Magazine, and if you veer left you can go down the one block of Hastings. It creates a pie-shaped block that comes to a point at the intersection, and there’s a small park there, and Gris-Gris restaurant is on both Hastings on one side and Magazine on the other. ↩︎
  2. I have a very strong and powerful ego, don’t ever be fooled into thinking I don’t. Knowing how bad it can be is why I go to such an opposite extreme; I don’t like egomaniacal authors who think everything they write is deathless prose that will live for a thousand years–um, you ain’t Homer, dude. ↩︎

But Heaven Knows I’ve Tried

I don’t know if I have enough words to describe how much I love Ted Lasso.

I also am not sure I’ll ever get over the show coming to an end. Okay, that’s extreme. I will miss the show a lot though; the show was topnotch from top to bottom. There was never a bad performance from anyone in the cast; the writing was stellar; the videography terrific; and the story was just wonderful. There haven’t been many ensemble casts this large where everyone had the opportunity to truly dig in and develop identities as their characters; the chemistry between the cast members was astonishing (well done, casting director and production team!). With the exception of Sudeikis and Anthony Head (as the villain of the piece, Rupert), I didn’t recognize anyone in the cast…although you can probably imagine my delight to discover that Hannah Waddingham, so sublime as Rebecca Welton, was the goddamned Shame Nun on Game of Thrones, and the star swimmer’s mother on Sex Education! I thought she was gorgeous in Sex Education, but that didn’t prepare me for the knockout she turned out to be on Ted Lasso (and my God how I hated the Shame Nun and cheered at her final comeuppance).

I literally knew nothing about the show when it first dropped on Apple Plus. It was during the pandemic–perhaps even while we in the midst of the shutdown (forgive me, those years are blurry to me). I’d seen some bits about it on social media, and I remembered the character from the ESPN commercials (which I’d hated and thought were stupid) and it really didn’t seem like anything I’d enjoy. It was a fish-out-of-water comedy, and that is a trope that has been worked to death since the beginning of time…and it just seemed kind of silly, stupid and definitely lowbrow. I was bemoaning the end of Schitt’s Creek on Twitter, and my friend Alafair replied to my tweet, you need to watch Ted Lasso. There’s a lot more to it than you’d think. I like Jason Sudeikis (so does Paul; the movie We’re the Millers, for whatever reason, is a vastly underrated comedy film), and so one night we tuned in.

And by the end of that first episode, we were believers. (Sorry, couldn’t resist.) When the credits rolled I looked at Paul and said, “I quite enjoyed that, did you?” and he agreed, and we went on a binge. How wonderful was that first season? Getting to meet the characters and how they interacted with each other–when Ted first met Keely; when Trent Crimm stood up and started asking asshole-ish reporter questions at Ted’s first press conference; the development of the relationship/friendship between Keely and Rebecca; and of course, that corny, stock, trope of a set-up: Rebecca, having been cheated on and publicly humiliated by her ex-husband, got majority ownership of the AFC Richmond soccer team, and hurt and angry beyond belief, she’s decided that since the only thing Rupert cares about is his soccer team, she’s going to take it and run it into the ground for revenge. We’ve all seen this set-up before, right? How many rom-coms or movies have used this similar insane kind of trope to build around? As I was watching, I kept thinking, okay, Ted is going to win her over and they’re going to become friends and then he’s going to find out what she was up to and be hurt and betrayed and…but the cast was appealing enough for me to care enough to keep watching. There was Jamie Tartt, the cocky young self-absorbed narcissistic star of the team; Sam, the new shy player from Nigeria; Nate, the sweet and shy and timid kit manager, constantly bullied by the players; and of course, Roy Kent (he’s here, he’s there, he’s every fucking where) the aging star who isn’t as fast as he used to be and is slightly resentful of the younger players coming up and taking over. The only people who are genuinely kind and friendly to Ted and his buddy Coach Beard are Keely–they hit it off immediately (I wondered if there was a romance budding there that first season), Nate, and Higgins, Rebecca’s assistant who kept Rupert’s affairs a secret from her and covered for him for years–so she is torturing him.

(And the song playing over the opening credits is a banger.)

And of course, Ted know nothing about soccer. He coached football (the American kind) at Wichita State, and the victory celebration video after they won the national title is what got Rebecca’s attention. But why would Ted accept a job on the other side of the world from his home, away from his wife and son, doing something he knows absolutely nothing about? The offer, as it turns out, came at a time when Ted gradually was becoming aware that his wife was unhappy and wanted out of the marriage. To try to save it, Ted accepted the job so he could give her space–half a planet’s worth. It’s still a bit of a stretch, but as we get to know Ted and Michelle and the rest of the cast through each episode, it becomes obvious that this is exactly the kind of thing Ted would do. His kindness, politeness, and friendliness–often mocked and made fun of by the more cynical characters in the cast–his uncanny gift for compassion, even when he doesn’t really understand, comes from a place of caring but we also learn it’s all a coping mechanism for him as well. His father committed suicide when Ted was a teen, and he’s never really come to grips with the loss, the grief and the pain. Now with his own family unit at risk of breaking up, of course he would do whatever he had to in order to keep the family together and sparing his son the same kind of pain he experienced when his father died.

That’s kind of deep for a comedy. But…Ted Lasso wasn’t just a comedy. It had a lot more layers and depth than I would have ever imagined.

Ted seems almost gimmicky at first. He’s always looking for the best in every person and every situation and has that “aw shucks” kind of cornball Dad humor. But his empathy for others, his ability to see things from their perspective removed from any personal bias, has an overwhelming effect on other people, begins making them rethink their own attitudes and biases and behaviors–encouraging them to be better versions of themselves. At one point in Season 1, Ted explains his entire philosophy of coaching (for want of a better word, it’s holistic) to Trent Crimm…a cynical, skeptical journalist trying to get to the root of who this man is and if he is for real…and spending time with Ted turns Trent himself into a believer. But the empathy, the kindness, the total giving of himself to the betterment of others is actually his coping mechanism. As long as he is helping other people work on themselves, Ted doesn’t have to confront his own demons and issues and problems. This ignoring his own needs for self-care and mental health is damaging him. It damaged his marriage to the point of it breaking. Ted cannot help himself the way he helps others…and as the show progresses he slowly learns and comes to understand that he needs help from others, and that his own vulnerability isn’t a weakness.

And had anyone told me in Season 1 that Season 3 Jamie Tartt would steal my heart, I would have laughed in your face.

Oh my God, what a character arc.

When we first meet Jamie, he’s someone we’ve seen before. Handsome, hot, and an amazing player, he is incredibly full of himself and doesn’t give a shit about anyone else but himself. Somehow he has managed to land Keely Fucking Jones (she will always be that to me, thank you, Roy Kent) as a girlfriend, which I never quite understood; why would Keely put up with this (albeit very hot) man boy? She eventually dumps him mid-season, and he gets sent back to his regular team–he was on loan, something I never really quite understood. He is, in fact, the one who wins the big game for the other team that sees Richmond undergo the humiliation of relegation, by doing something Ted coached him to do that he flatly refused to do when playing for him; making an extra pass to an open teammate rather than scoring himself…and it is in that episode, the finale of Season One, where we discover the key to Jamie’s personality and why he is the way he is (alluded to in an earlier episode, the one about ridding the stadium of ghosts); his alcoholic and highly abusive father–who never gave a shit about Jamie or his mother until he showed prowess at soccer–shows up, and Ted witnesses the abuse in person. Between season one and two, Jamie went a bit haywire, leaving his team to go on Love Island and getting voted off early. No team wants him because of the way he bailed on the team and because he’s a diva, so he has to beg Ted and the team to let him come back to Richmond. And he has to earn it, which he does, by humbling himself and being more of a team player. Watching Jamie grow–and played expertly by Phil Dunster, who deserves an Emmy for Season 3–was an absolute pleasure. He was a standout in Season 3, and it was weird how proud I was of a fictional character.

The scene where he teaches Roy to ride a bike was an absolute joy.

I loved all of these characters, and the talents that played them so beautifully. I could write entire essays about Sam, Roy, Phoebe, Higgins and any number of other characters on the show; I’d be hard pressed to pick a favorite. But I am going to close–since it’s Pride Month, and they gave us such an amazing gift in the finale, which aired on Day One of June.

The last thing I expected to find in Season 3 of Ted Lasso was the story of a closeted gay player on the Richmond team. Colin Hewes, who was just adorable and got a line here and there–often funny ones–got his chance to shine as an actor in the third season. When the team’s sponsor switches from Dubai Air to Bantr in the second season, Keely is telling the team about them and she talks about how it’s spelled…and Colin pipes up with, “oh, like Grindr.” There was a bit of an awkward silence and then the scene moved forward. A throwaway, a little nothing, and I literally was amused by it and promptly forgot it. But there was a pay-off for that little line, as we discover in Season 3 that Colin is gay and deeply closeted, as well as deeply conflicted about keeping the secret from his teammates–who are both friend and family to him. I’ve already written about the beautiful scene in Amsterdam when Trent not only tells Colin that he knows, but comes out to him as well…becoming a kind of mentor for him. The fact that the scene between Colin and Trent was filmed in front of the monument to all the gay lives lost in the Holocaust (our history! No longer being ignored! Oh my heart!)? Bravo, Apple TV and everyone involved with this show. Bravo.

And finally…his best friend on the team finds out and stops speaking to him. Finally, in one of my favorite episodes ever of any television series, Colin finally has to come clean…and is welcomed by one and all. Ted’s speech about them caring about his being gay because they care about him, and how he never has to go through anything alone anymore, was just beautiful and I had tears running out of my eyes.

Hell, just writing about it is making me tear up again.

Representation matters. And having it on one of the most critically acclaimed and award-winning comedy series of the decade?

And the scene above? It’s also a callback to the conversation between Colin and Trent. Colin says he doesn’t want to be a spokesperson, doesn’t want any fuss, just wants to live his life and “be able to kiss my guy after a win, like the other fellas do with their gals.” And after the biggest win in the history of the team, he gets to do just that.

I would have cried had I not already been crying.

Because yes, the final game Ted coached for Richmond was epic. At one point during the game I realized I was just as tense as I get during big LSU games, marveling at the power of the show. The game was a fiction. It wasn’t real. But it mattered to me. I wanted them to win. I wanted my team, my little family of players on a fictional television series, to win because I wanted to see their joy. I wanted them to celebrate, and I wanted to see it. (I’ve watched the game segment several times now.)

And as much as I hate to say it, it is time to say adieu to one of my favorite shows. Thank you for the joy you’ve brought me the last three seasons. Thank you to the cast, the writers, and the crew.

And a big thank you to Alafair Burke, without whom I may have never watched in the first place.

Pon de Replay

Monday and back to the office with me this morning.

I slept very well last night and woke up quite easily. The weather took a turn for the colder over the weekend (yay)–the high today is a bitter 54–which makes it harder to get out of bed in the morning, but at least the heat is working properly; it really has made a significant difference getting that new system two or three years ago. I got some work done yesterday–good work, at that–and also managed to finish reading Bobby Mathews’ Living the Gimmick, which was quite fun; a nasty little hard-boiled tale of murder and vengeance behind the scenes of professional wrestling. More on that later, but it was a fun, tightly written little story. Now I’m trying to decide what to read next–either Christopher Bollen’s The Lost Americans, or Margot Douahy’s Scorched Grace, or Ellen Byron’s Wined and Died in New Orleans. A virtual plethora of excellent options. The Festivals are of course this weekend and I have to get my weekend planned, including reaching out to my panelists (I’m moderating a panel on Sunday) and of course, there’s always editing I need to get done. I’ll be commuting, so we don’t have to board Scooter, which will be a bit of a pain, especially if it’s cold (note to self: check weather forecasts for the weekend). Scooter is being a needy kitty this morning, he’s up on my desk and purring, but every time I put him into my lap he climbs back up on the desk and then of course gets between me and the screen wanting to give me headbutts while he continues to be an out of control purring machine. (Why he doesn’t want to be cuddled up with Paul in our incredibly comfortable and warm bed remains a mystery for the ages.)

The revision isn’t going as quickly as I would like, frankly–but it’s going and it’s going well; I am starting to pick up momentum with the revision and would love to have it finished before the weekend, but I don’t think that’s going to happen, unless I really stay rested and motivated and don’t get worn out during the day at work, which happens–especially when you’re getting up at six every morning during the week. My big fear here is that I’ll be very tired when the weekend rolls around, which isn’t good. Maybe I’ll take Friday off, so I can sleep late and not have to worry about being tired? That’s the day I’ll have to take a Lyft to the hotel with my little bag so I am there. I’ll probably stay down there Friday night, come home Saturday night, and then head back down there for Sunday afternoon and then back home yet again.

We started watching the new season of Ted Lasso last night, which is marvelous (I’d already seen the first episode–impatience, of course– but was more than happy to rewatch it with Paul); it really might be one of my favorite comedy series of all time, if not the absolute favorite (Schitt’s Creek is still up there), and it’s just as charming as ever. I’m curious to see how the season goes, especially since it’s going to be the last season–but I hope the talk of spin-off series for some of the characters comes to fruition; although whether the strong characters can tentpole a show of their own remains to be seen. I am confident that both Hannah Waddingham and Juno Temple could spin off into their own quite easily; the others I’m not as confident about, to be honest….although a Sam and Rebecca (how Cheers of them!) spin-off could be quite lovely.

And we still have the whacked out, over the top joy of Outer Banks still to watch, too. Huzzah! Now if we can only live through this coming weekend and survive…

Its a bit hard to believe the first quarter of the year is coming to a close, and DAMN IT, I have to get my taxes organized and done, don’t I? Put that at the top of the to-do list for post-Festival. Heavy heaving sigh. I really should keep track every month, update a spreadsheet with the expenses for the previous month, and then at the end of the year it would all be ready to go, wouldn’t it? But why on earth would I ever do anything that would make my life easier in any way? Self-defeating, as always; I shall probably go to my grave wondering why I sabotage or undermine my abilities to succeed and/or get ahead and/or act like an adult. Ah, well, today and tonight I am going to try to get myself better organized and make a game plan for moving on with the rest of the year.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Sorry to be such a crashing bore on a Monday morning, but that does seem about par for the course, does it not? See you tomorrow!

Exile

I don’t really remember why I originally decided to subscribe to Apple Plus; I have a love/hate relationship with the entire company, frankly, but after using their products for nearly twenty-five years I’m sort of resigned to using them until the day I die (but reserve the right to complain incessantly about them). I have a ridiculous amount of streaming services that I already pay for–Hulu, Prime, Netflix, CBS All Access, DC Universe, HBO MAX, Disney Plus (and I really need to trim that down, seriously)–and so why on earth would I add another? I honestly don’t know, but there it is, and I’m paying for it. We originally tried watching an Octavia Spencer show she did for them, but as much as we love her and as talented as she is, the writing wasn’t worthy of her talents and we abandoned the show. We then tried Defending Jacob–I mean, come on, CHRIS EVANS–but it, too, began to strain credulity and credibility and despite it’s amazing production values and CHRIS EVANS, we finally abandoned the show. Having had two disappointing experiences with their series in a row, we kind of decided to avoid Apple Plus and I was at the point of pulling the plug when I remembered I wanted to give The Morning Show a try–and we fucking loved it.

And then a friend recommended Ted Lasso.

I like Jason Sudeikis; the film where he played a drug smuggler and hired a stripper played by Jennifer Aniston to play his wife, and then hired two kids to play their kids was surprisingly funny and enjoyable (even if I can’t remember the name of it) and I vaguely remember him as a Saturday Night Live alum (sorry, but this century the women have far overshadowed the men for the most part), but the premise of the show didn’t sound terribly promising to me, frankly; an American college football coach is hired to coach a major league soccer team in the UK, despite knowing nothing about soccer or England or anything. It was, I thought, kind of a stupid premise; I may not follow soccer or know much about it, but even I know it’s the most popular sport in the world and the Brits go nuts about it. It also was that most tired of sitcom premises, once you boil it down to its nuts and bolts and foundation: fish out of water. How many times have we seen this already, and in every possible variation? And soccer–a sport I don’t follow, don’t really understand, and generally never get terribly excited on the few times I’ve watched it?

But the friend who recommended it also said it was very much in the spirit of Schitt’s Creek, which might just be one of my favorite sitcoms ever, and so we gave it a whirl.

And we both found ourselves completely enchanted by the end of the first episode.

And in all honesty, I didn’t think we would last. Ted is from Kansas–the football team he coached to a championship that drew the eye of the Richmond soccer team owner was Wichita State–and has that “aw shucks good golly” type of Midwestern personality that is such a stereotype that it’s almost painful to watch, and there was a fear that this show would be painful to watch; a sweet, unassuming, good-hearted Midwestern American having to deal with the cutthroat British media, angry fans who can’t understand the decision to hire him, and I thought to myself, oh this is going to be one of those things where he wins and everyone grows to love and appreciate him.

It is so much more than that–and not just because he doesn’t win (spoiler). We soon find out two important, key things about Ted and his new job that explain it, in that weird, cartoonish sitcom way: the team’s owner, Rebecca, got the team as part of a divorce settlement from her horrific ex-husband, Rupert–a cheating, slimy piece of shit who is horrible to her–and as the only thing he actually cares about is the soccer (football) team, she wants to destroy it while he watches helplessly as it happens. What better way to ruin a team than hiring someone who knows absolutely nothing about the sport to be its coach? But why would Ted take the job? It turns out that Ted’s marriage is also on the rocks, and the marriage counselor he and his wife are seeing have suggested they put some distance between them–just as the job offer came through, so Ted takes it.

And Ted isn’t a stereotype at all, as I feared; as played by Jason Sudeikis, he’s just one of those genuinely kind people, almost completely without guile; he believes in his players and he believes in the goodness of people–and as everyone gets to know him, his kindness and caring begins to break through with the players and everyone he encounters. The media is brutal to him, but he just smiles and appreciates them for doing their job. Rebecca is consistently undermining him with the team, setting him up to make sure the team fails. But Ted’s eternal optimism and belief in people starts pulling the team together, creating a true team atmosphere. One of the sweetest episodes is one where he spends the day with a journalist who is one of his harshest critics, Ted Crimm; and watching as Ted’s optimism and kindness slowly begins to win the reporter over, to the point that he writes an absolutely glowing column about Ted–concluding with his belief that the team will be relegated (moved to the minors) but that he won’t gloat when it happens, because he can’t help rooting for the guy.

Like Schitt’s Creek, the show is about the characters, their relationships with each other, and their personal growth. Even Rebecca (played brilliantly by Hannah Waddingham, perhaps most famous as the ‘shame” sept from Game of Thrones), the mastermind of this cruel scheme with Ted set-up as the butt of the joke, is understandable; we see how much Rupert has damaged her, and awful as what she is doing may be, we understand her pain and root for her to get through it all, and watching Ted slowly beginning to win her over–as well as Keeley, the former supermodel who begins the show involved with team star (borrowed from Manchester City) Jamie Tartt, and gradually realizes she deserves better and falls for someone more her match; Keeley is a terrific character, who immediately sees, gets, and understands Ted’s worth, and watching her friendship with Rebecca grow is also delightful to watch. The show is never side-splittingly funny, but the humor is there…and so are the human elements that sometimes make you tear up.

Because Crimm is ultimately right–you can’t help rooting for Ted, and by extension, you can’t help rooting for the team, the characters, and the show. The acting is top-notch, and even the minor characters are completely lovable–I love Jamie Rojas, the Mexican player who is always happy and always saying “football is life!” and Nate the equipment manager in particular; even the fans, whether it’s the ones in the stadium chanting “Wanker!” at Ted or the ones in the local pub, are fun to watch and again, fun to watch them grow into an appreciation of their Yankee coach and his methods.

I love this show, and I can’t wait to see the second season.