Young dachshund finds surfboard on Ardross Oval.

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What's with George Eads' Hair?

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DailyCeleb.com & David Edwards Hey Zeitgeisters, Bet you thought this blog would never top “ What’s with Bradley Whitford’s Hair? ” For those of you who weren’t part of that historical blog entry, it was the glittering moment where I wondered what’s with West Wing star Bradley Whitford’s hair. Good times. However, tonight, while watching the current series (in Australia) of CSI :Original Recipe , I was forced to witness the unpleasantness of George Eads’ new(ish) 'do and I felt compelled to blog on’t. George plays the part of Nick Stokes and has spent some 5 or 6 seasons with a haircut “you could set your watch to,” as Grandpa Simpson might say. It was always short; it always had that US Marine Corps vibe; it was always as dependable as the ebbing and flowing of the tides. Now in something of an El Nino effect, I note that someone in Jerry Bruckheimer’s organization has decided to mess with the length of George’s crowning glory. Although I chiefly watch CSI wa...
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What’s with Bradley Whitford’s Hair?

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Okay, Zeitgeisters, that’s as shallow an attention-grabbing start as one could ever want, but I really want to know. And sure, I’m really talking about Josh Lyman’s hair. (I’m like one of those people who insist on calling an actor by their character’s name – only in reverse. e.g. “Go Knight Boat!”) Whitford plays Deputy Chief of Staff, Josh Lyman, in the Aaron Sorkin -created, NBC television series The West Wing . He plays this part to a tee and now he’s set to do great things in the new Sorkin drama, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip . I know this last bit because the Angriest Ex-Video Store Clerk in the world told me. Oh, and Whitford ’s married to the awesome Jane Kaczmarek who plays mom, Lois, in the series Malcolm in the Middle. So Mr Whitford’s your regular pop-cultural icon and yardstick for excellence. We’re here in this, frankly, puzzling cultural landscape, because I’ve just finished watching season four of The West Wing on DVD. And Josh Lyman’s hair has bothered me througho...
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Soup's Up!

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Zeitgeisters, Its winter in the Southern Hemisphere or SoHem as we like to call it down here. Which means its soup-making time. I like to get a ham shank and a leek and some magic beans and boil it up for a couple of hours and then freeze the result in a number of containers. Not quite the way granny would’ve done it, but its as close as I get. Last winter I was doing this very thing on a particularly cold night and managed to mist up my small flat. The windows, the computer and the front of the microwave all had a fine layer of moisture on it. I opened all the doors and windows thinking that equalising the temperature outside and would be in some way effective. You know that way you seize upon half-remembered scientific principles learnt years ago in school? I went about with a towel and dried light switches, the desk lamp and the telly etc. Then I sat on the sofa in a my thickest jacket while a chilly wind blew through the flat. I managed to catch a pretty good documentary on SBS a...
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Losing Face

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Zeitgeisters, time for the confession. I watch CSI once a week. Any of the CSI 's. It doesn't matter which one. I don't really care if it's Miami, New York or Original Recipe. Although I know the Original Recipe crew by name. And I am even prepared to diss their hair when necessary. I watch CSI Miami because I love things shot in an orangey palette. I also love the way that Horatio Kane (David Caruso) does that dog-with-head-tilted look. Unfortunately this look stands in for a number of emotions, "I'm trying to work out if you're telling the truth"; "I know you're not telling the truth and this head-tilt is intended to psych you out" and "If I weren't in such deep emotional pain maybe you and I could have a shot at the big brass ring". Like Roger Moore's eyebrow and Bruce Willis's smirk, the gesture doesn't multi-task as well as the actor imagines. I watch CSI New York because Gary Sinise's character (Ma...
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This Week In Mr Trivia’s Bubble

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Monday. Sick at home and thus unable to educate today’s youth to not say LOL as a word. Not that I can manage this even when I’m there. I discover day-time television is as terrible as night-time television with a couple of subtle differences. Day-time TV is filled with infomercials about buying life insurance without a medical and infomercials for bagless, cyclonic Dyson ripoff vacuum cleaners that can pick up a bowling ball using just suction. Night-time telly is filled with infomercials about how the whole world is going crazy for Zumba and informercials with scantily clad ladies (some of whom can pick up a bowling ball using just suction) who want you to call them NOW for just $20.00 a minute.
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Embrace Your Inner Muppet

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Zeitgeisters, Bert (below right) and Ernie of Sesame Street. You gotta love them. For many of us this was the first comedy duo we ever saw perform. When I was six years old these two were my Martin and Lewis, Abbott and Costello, Morecambe and Wise. Ernie was my favourite, naturally. I couldn’t understand why Bert was always trying to spoil Ernie’s fun. Ernie had energy, liked a laugh and knew how to enjoy life. Bert was a good guy, but he had an authoritarian bent. I was tidying up around the house yesterday and I turned up a miniature Ernie Plushie that I bought a couple of years back. He’s something like the one pictured, but mine looks a little sadder and in need of some help from a charitable organization. I picked up charity case Ernie and was working out where to place him (on top of the fridge? Computer?) when I had an epiphany. I realised that I had shifted from identifying with Ernie in my youth to being someone who embodies more of the qualities of Bert in my adulthood. I am...
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Vending Machine Win

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I had only planned on getting the above items.However, the vending machines in the place I work are programmed to take your money and give you nothing in return. I required a bag of Sour Squirms. They were in the bottom right hand corner compartment - E8. I put a fiver into the note-snatcher, heard $1.50 clatter into the coin return. The large black coil holding The Squirms, rotated one turn and released the bag, it shuffled forward two centimetres, then stood teetering on the ledge, just above the pit you grab your goodies from. I willed it to fall. It trembled on the brink like a plump diver waiting for the referee's whistle. After about five seconds it became clear that my paid-for bag of Squirms was content to stay where it was - like a portly Greg Louganis, frozen in time on a sprinboard to nowhere. There was no way I was going to allow this to happen, but because I too can be described as portly there was also no way I was going to be seen sh...
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Coiffure Fury

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Zeitgeisters, I don’t mind it when Miss Raspberry Beret asks me if what she’s wearing is hot, happening, kicking out the jams, etc. This is a dread area for many guys but I’ve watched enough Trinny and Susannah or QUEER EYE to give it a red hot go. However, I can’t answer any of her questions about hair. Freakin’ hair. A Woman’s Crowning Glory etc. When posited a follicular styling question, I revert to being Mr C from HAPPY DAYS, or Fred Mertz from I LOVE LUCY or Fred MacMurray from MY THREE SONS (more on MacMurray soon). That is to say, as hapless as any iconic 1950s television husband when faced with something feminine. So the other day we’re getting ready to go out and Miss RB says, “I don’t know what to do with my hair. What do you think?” I try severally to weasel out of it. I distract with light chat about climate change. I attempt to make it a feminist issue that simply doesn’t involve my input. “But I value your opinion,” Miss RB says. So I employ hyperbole. “This c...
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Look Who's Talking

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Zeitgeisters, I caught the tail end of an alleged story on Channel 7’s The Morning Show with Larry Emdur and Kylie Gillies . They were interviewing some egregious twit from one of the Australian celebrity magazines. She shall remain nameless because I decline to publicise her or her vile publication further. The subject was celebrity children. That is the non-famous children of celebrities. There was some discussion about how much paparazzi can get for a sought-after snap of a celebrity’s child. No discussion of the morality here, just some mindless chatter about comparing the looks of the famous person’s child with one’s own. I mentioned this to a colleague at my workplace ( Media Dell ‘Arte , Fremantle). She expressed some satisfaction with magazine stories showing Angelina Jolie with a big packet of chips and her many kids in tow. She argued that seeing a big Hollywood star having to bribe her kids with junk food gives aid and comfort to other frazzled parents out there. Even so, ...
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Join The Far Queue

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We used to queue in Australia. So much so that the title for this blog entry is actually the punch-line for an Aussie joke. Its where the shop assistant tells you to go when it’s really busy and he or she can’t possibly help you. These days we’re American so we get in line, but indulge me for the duration of this blog (like you usually do). It will always be referred to as queuing on these pages. I went to the supermarket this afternoon to gather supplies for La Weekend. Just across the road we have a brand new and poorly designed shopping area, where the queues curl around the aisles and everyone gets in the way of everyone else. I waited patiently in the multi-checkout 10 Items or Fewer* queue. There were three possible checker-outerers; it was a spin of the roulette wheel. I had no control over who I would get. So, would it be Tess, the smart-aleck Emo chick with a tiny metallic skull on the choker around her neck; like a cat’s bell? She would process my groceries quickly. Or woul...
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