The Bachelor: The Women Tell Next to Nothing, Bore the Shit Out of Us

Everyone agrees, including myself, that Ken Burns' "The Civil War" is a masterpiece of modern documentary filmmaking.  I think I have watched the entire series all the way through twice, which takes only slightly less time than the actual Civil War.  I was excited about watching it again with The Wife, who had never seen it, because she is from Another Country where they have their own shit going down.  So one night we sat down and I hit play and BOOM she was out cold in less than five minutes.  A few years later Ken Burns' series "The National Parks" came on and we began watching that and BOOM she's out again.  Ken Burns has a particularly soporific effect on The Wife.

So it was for me with last night's "The Women Tell All, " the usual filler that airs every season just before the finale.  Its origin and purpose remain murky, as it seems to exist only to take up space.  Maybe editing the finale takes a long time?  Anyway, last night I fell asleep at two different times while trying to watch this televised Sominex, so my notes are somewhat unclear.

I seem to remember Tierra getting trotted out at some point, yelled at, and then returned to her seat.  Was there something about Sean and Chris Harrison dropping in on people watching the show?  Did that happen?  I think Desiree blamed her brother.  AshLee thinks Sean told her that he didn't care about any other girls, but he says he didn't say that.  Nobody cares.

The only possibly interesting thing that happened to me was that at around 7 pm, there was a sudden spike in traffic to this blog.

What the fuck?  I did some checking and found out that a not-insubstantial number of people were arriving here after Googling various combinations of "magic", "dog", and "Bachelor", which was leading them to this post with "Magic" and "Bachelor" in the title and the word "dog" in the post.  Well, as I found out at 10 pm Pacific time, the show concluded with a moving video tribute to Magic the dog, who apparently hung around the set until he or she died of boredom at some point this season.  To better days, Magic.

NEXT WEEK: Finally this godawful season comes to an end.  They've been teasing lots of shots of Sean at the Proposal Lectern reading some kind of letter and then staring meaningfully into middle distance.  This is GUARANTEED to be disappointing when we actually find out what it is. 

You finally lost me, San Francisco Chronicle

I bought the San Francisco Chronicle every day when it was 25 cents during the week and, I think, 75 cents or a dollar on Sunday.  Then it was 35 cents, then 50, and lately 75 cents.  I stopped buying the Sunday paper a couple of years ago when it seemed like it changed every Sunday - No magazine! OK, here's your magazine back! No Datebook!  Different Datebook! And on and on - and also it's really not worth it at $3.  But I was still faithfully plunking down (well, feeding into a newspaper box) 75 cents a day.  I like the tangible, physical paper.  I like holding it.  I like reading the Sporting Green while I eat lunch.  I don't have an iPad and reading it on a computer screen while I eat is unwieldy.  ANYWAY, no more.

Are you fucking kidding me, San Francisco Chronicle?  A fucking DOLLAR?  For a paper that is just a shell of what it used to be?  That's it, I'm out.  We are done here.  I could do 75 cents a day but, I will freely admit, there is a psychological barrier to adding on that extra quarter.  I just cannot pay a dollar a day for Debra Saunders' ill-informed ranting or Chuck Nevius' whatever that thing is that Chuck Nevius does.  It's been a nice 23 years, Chronicle, but we are done.  Good luck at your new price point.

(Incidentally, this is a photo of the newsrack in front of the courthouse at McAllister and Polk.  Usually it's empty by 8:30 a.m.  Not today.  Plenty of razor-thin Monday Chronicles for sale today.  Looks like I'm not the only one who's finished here.)

I may be finally getting too old for this shit

When you get to my advanced age, some things, while still logistically possible, are no longer as compelling as they used to be, like camping or threesomes.  After last night, I fear that going to see live music - once a staple part of my life - may slowly be sliding into the sinkhole of oldmandom.

So last night I went to a Noise Pop show, as I try to do every year.  This one was at Brick & Mortar and featured Free Energy, who I really like, Warm Soda, In the Valley Below, and Miner.  I hadn't yet been to B&M (in its current incarnation, anyway - the space used to be Levende Lounge, and before that Butterfly, the restaurant, and I've been drunk at both of those places) and it's fine.  It looks exactly like the old restaurants that used to be there, minus the tables.

HERE COMES THE BITCHING.  Doors 8/Show 9.  Now, that's fine if there are 2 or even 3 bands, but when you have 4 bands on the bill, that's just fucking ridiculous.  There is no reason you shouldn't start a 4-band show at 8.  I don't want to skip ahead and spoil the ending, but I had to go at 11:20 and the 3rd band was still in the middle of their set.  I mean, it's great and all if you don't have to work the next day, but on a Thursday it's just not cool.  I saw Free Energy a few years ago at Pitchfork so it's not the end of the world but still.  I mean, I used to BE in a band and if we had to go on after midnight, I would probably leave.

MORE BITCHING.  It's too crowded.  People talk through all the bands.  That didn't bother me this time as much as usual because I wasn't really here to see anyone in particular other than Warm Soda and they were so loud it didn't matter.  They were pretty great, too, at least the half of their set I got to see.  Here's a sample.  Fun music.  BUT YOU'RE NOT OFF THE HOOK WARM SODA.  My show companion, and to a lesser extent I, were maybe interested in buying Warm Soda's album.  But in a colossal fuck you to potential customers, IT'S ONLY AVAILABLE ON VINYL.  Oh Christ how pretentious can you get.  I know, I know, Vinyl Purists, it's the best sound and whatever but the fact is these days 90% of people don't own a turntable.  They don't even have it for sale online.  So way to lose potential sales there, Warm Soda.  (Also, you need a new sound person.  The music was great but the mix was terrible.)

THERE ARE SOME GOOD PARTS THOUGH.  I had never heard of first band Miner but even though their sound is pretty much a complete lift of the Mumford/Edward Sharpe/Lumineers thing that the kids are so crazy about these days, it was still perfectly enjoyable.  I enjoyed it.  It didn't hurt that the band included a multi-instrumentalist/singer chick who was like MODEL GORGEOUS in her willowy Anthropologie way.  Here's a sample, although this wasn't really one of my favorite songs they played:


So I guess the takeaway is that maybe I should just go to shows that start at 7 and have seating.  Maybe the B-52s will play the Mountain Winery!  Fuck me.

Annoying things Pope does post-retirement

Comes into office every Friday and goes out to lunch with a bunch of Cardinals that New Pope is working on an ASAP project with.  "You don't mind, do you? I just wanna catch up."  Cardinals come back 2 1/2 hours later, smell like wine.

Walks into New Pope's office.  "Hmmmm, I think it worked better with the printer over here.  But it's your office now, you set it up how you like."

Still gives out business cards that say "Pope" even though he's not really Pope any more.

Uses Papal Helicopter to go to Sardinia on weekend.  "Oh, shit, I'm sorry.  I totally thought you were out of town."

Confidentially tells friends he still has direct line to God. 

Accepts $150 and Chevy's gift card to do mall opening in Paramus, NJ.  "Was I not supposed to do that? I thought it would be cool with you.  The sign said 'Emeritus Pope Welcomes You to Hidden Hills Town Centre,' not 'Pope Welcomes You to Hidden Hills Town Centre'."

Wonders aloud if setting up a little church on the side, "Not even a big thing, just one branch" would violate non-compete clause.

The Bachelor: I'm getting the wiggles too. Not in a good way.

You want to know what dedication is?  After a cross-country flight, one leg of which was spent next to an empty-plastic-water-bottle-crinkler (YOU, SIR, NEED TO BE PUT IN A HOME), I kissed my loving and pregnant wife and then parked myself in front of our TV with a vodka and a sense of resignation so I could bring you, my Loyal Readers, your Bachelor recap.  And you never write or call.  NEVER.  That's fine.

What are we doing here, Thailand?  Thailand.  Thailand looks beautiful.  Let's start out with Sean back in his trusty aqua tank and Wayfarers and have some time-killing recaps of each of the Final Three, complete with a highlight reel and mindless platitudes about each unlucky contestant.  (Example: AshLee has "one of the biggest hearts I've ever come across."  She should get that looked at, probably.)  First date is with Drunk Lindsay.  They hop into some sort of motorized hut (DL: "Amazing") and they're off to the Exotic Sea Cow Market to see some HOLY FUCK WHY ARE THOSE BABY CHICKS DYED NEON COLORS and eat some bugs.  My first impression of Thailand is that it would be a VERY BAD PLACE to take acid.  Then it's time to head on over to Monkey Beach and feed some monkeys and frolic in the surf or whatever.  Outdoor Dinner in front of "traditional Thai floats" and Linds is all "I felt like I was in Heaven" and maybe Heaven really is Disney World on Peyote, just like I'd hoped!

Here comes the invite to the Fantasy Suite.  You know Linds is down.  Fuck, finally some goddam booze, that's what she's thinking.  They bust out some champagne and L giggles a lot and says "I love you" in a creepy baby voice and this somehow unlocks an achievement and she can now go on to the next level.  FUCKING WEIRD.

NEXT!  AdopTee.  Girl looks pretty good in her fishnet-over-tank-top ensemble.  S needs to challenge her, he says, so we're going swimming in a cave?  That's the challenge?  How about playing Hide the Parents or Who's Got My DNA?  That would be a challenge.  Anyway, after a talk about her abandonment issues AGAIN, they're off to swim in a cave.  She's "absolutely terrified" even though they have fucking FLOATIES and flashlights and a goddam CAMERA CREW.  Eeek!  A sudden noise is freaking her out!  It's probably the sound guy's pager.  Jesus Christ, girl, I've had scarier experiences at the Foods Co on Folsom.  Somehow they live through this 2-minute ordeal and make it to a beach on the other side of the cave.  This experience has been "life changing."  Wait until you have to change a tire or make a dental appointment!  You will advance to the Next Plane of Existence.

Somehow they escape from Life Change Atoll and make it to Outdoor Dinner and AshLee is gettin' all sassy what with her Gypset necklace and her engagement ring talk.  HOLD UP GIRL.  Fantasy Suite first.  She's pretty clear that she's not going to be throwing down in any Fantasy Suite.  That's cool, though, Sean just wants to stay up all night and TALK.  I guess the FS comes with an 8-ball in Thailand. 

Finally, it's Ambiguously Ethnic Catherine.  Thailand can be rough on a girl's hair, as we see.  Following another boat trip (Side Note:  Everyone in the world, you can now stop standing on the prow and yelling I'M THE WHATEVER OF THE WORLD.  I give you permission to stop doing this.  Titanic came out in 1997.  It's over.), Cath says she's down for moving to Dallas, as "I'm pretty expired in terms of Seattle."  I love her pidgin dialect!  Semi-outdoor deck dinner.  Sean apparently thinks he's interviewing her for that position in Sales because he wants us to know she has "exceeded his expectations" and asks her where she sees herself in five years.  Not flattened by a tree, I promise you that!  That's a good goal.  Then she launches into a whole thing about how she's not gonna slut up the Fantasy Suite but you know she'd be on that thing like a Monkey Beach monkey on a handful of dates.  "Being intimate tonight is really important," she says.  HA!  I KNEW it.  Tough shit for you, though, because I don't think homeboy is down. 

Time for a sit down with Chris Harrison.  S knows who's getting das boot!  She's "sweet and full of love."  Maybe it's my Dad's dog!  Oh wait, we have private video messages.  Linds only slurs a little.  Cath calls him a "mega-hunk," and thinking about him gives her "the wiggles."  The fuck.  AdopTee weeps throughout the whole thing and I don't care, that chick is a basket case who needs Immediate Medical Attention.

Let's do this thing.  Yay, Drunk Lindsay makes the Final Two!  OK, long suspenseful pause and....it's Cath!  Somebody take away AdopTee's sharp instruments.  Good job, Sean!  You just abandoned her again.  Anyway, she walks off the set and she is one Pissed Off Hot Mess.  Into the Crying SUV and she is basically plotting his death.

NEXT WEEK: That fucking Women Tell All special.  That is always a 100% snooze.  I may skip that this year.  I bet Tierra doesn't even show.  Speaking of, I heard she got engaged!  Didn't take that bitch long to find a healthy host to attach herself to.

NEWCOMERS THREATEN TOWN

NEWCOMERS THREATEN TOWN!

WILL DESTROY SAN FRANCISCO WITH THEIR "TELEGRAPHS" AND "INDOOR PLUMBING!"

Friends, our Way of Life in pleasant San Francisco is under siege from a wave of NE'ER-DO-WELLS, WHIPPERSNAPPERS and DANDIES who have never laid eyes on a gold pan or sluiced a river or skinned a beaver JUST FOR FUN.  I am sad to report they are INVADING OUR TOWN in waves with their newfangled TELEGRAPHY MACHINES and WRIST-WATCHES.

It used to be a man could buy a perfectly good mud-brick cabin with PANO VUs on the side of Russky Hill for ten dollars.  NO MORE.  Respectable cobblers, drapers, and whores are being driven from their homes by these VARMINTS who will pay TWELVE OR THIRTEEN DOLLARS for a shanty.

Why, I've lived in this here town for over SIX YEARS ever since I sailed around the Horn and I'm sad to report I've seen it change from a place of DANGER and OPEN FLAME and TURPENTINE-LACED CREEK WHISKY to a FANCYMAN'S BALL what with their NON-ROTTEN MEAT and their CLEAR DRINKING WATER.  We risk losing the character that made us great!

Gentrification claims another neighborhood!!

My neighbor, SALINAS SAM, is a perfect example of this type of tomfoolery.  He's lived in my neighborhood of BLOOD CAKE HEIGHTS ever since he killed three Spainards for the land.  And now some MISSOURI STEAMBOATER who's never even DUG HIS OWN WELL or TORTURED A CAT TO DEATH plans to buy the land right out from under him!  An OUTRAGE.  Now Salinas Sam is going to have to move to THE MARINA.  He like to kill himself!

Friends, we must have SENSIBLE CONTROLS on growth and also KEEP OUT anyone who might change our way of life.  KEEPING SAN FRANCISCO EXACTLY THE SAME DEPENDS ON IT.  I propose HANGING ANY NEWCOMERS AT DAWN and also keeping the Chinese in Chinatown, that goes without saying.

The Bachelor: Chill out bro

We have now come to that portion of the show wherein the contestants are no longer satisfied with debasing themselves on national TV and must drag their otherwise innocent families into it.  We will begin in Houston where we find AdopTee and her old lady dog frolicking in a featureless suburb.  Sean shows up and they sit in a field and bore us all to fucking tears about her family and his family and everyone's a reverend and I bet they end up together because they're both total born agains and yawn.  OK, let's go meet these losers.  AdopTee's fake parents are a zaftig duo who enjoy iced tea in the backyard and this is a No Booze family.  Sad.  They seem vaguely troubled by AshLee's tales of romance but c'mon, you two, she got MARRIED at 17, so I bet she's had The Sex before.  Mom gets Big Dumb Sean alone and wants to spill it all about AshLee's abandonment issues and Mom if you are trying to sweeten the deal you are not doing a good job.  Back at the outdoor table, Dad tells the AshLee origin myth and it's sort of boring even by adoption story standards. 

Let's move on to Seattle, where Ambiguously Ethnic Catherine lives in her man-free House of Women.  But first we are legally required to show scenes of guys throwing fish in the Public Market.  Throwing Fish is Seattle's Lombard Street.  In fact, I saw a guy on TV who worked there and he said it was all fake and they have a stunt fish they throw around because you actually don't want to eat fish that's been thrown around like a football.  Fake fake fake.  Anyway, C finds this whole tableau transcendentally joyous, and she loves: (1) "the way he smells" (fishlike, at this point, we assume); (2) his "big beefy arms", and (3) "the way he accepts me for who I am in every way."  Gross.  Sounds like she needs to be with a powerlifting commercial fisherman with a short memory. 

On to Mom's house, where we find Mom, Grandma, and 2 fairly hot sisters.  They're a Booze Family, yay.  I was wondering why no men and then I remembered Dad got shipped back to China after his suicide attempt or whatever.  Anyway, Hot Sisters aren't so into Sean.  C says if he proposes, "I'd say yeah. I want to try this out!" like it's Zumba or the Atkins diet and not the Sacred Covenant of Marriage.  So then Hot Sisters go to Sean and throw C under the bus!  Guess what, Huge White Man?  She has wild mood swings!  She may be bipolar!  She is not ready to settle down!  Thanks, sisters!

Next up: Drunk Lindsay at Fort Leonard Wood, MO, which is the least intimidating Fort name ever.  I guess all the good fort names like Fort Vengeance and Fort Pyre of Enemy Skulls were taken and they were like "Well, Leonard's a good guy, let's just name it after him."  They wander around downtown FLW and stop by the Extremely Confrontational Curio Shoppe.

Sean says "This is more closely related to real life than anything else" and if you can figure out what the fuck that means, call me.  Since Lindsay is driving the train, they head straight for the booze and get some beers.  Then, prior to meeting the fam, we have to detour for some fake Army training stuff and for the second time tonight, S has to do pushups with a girl on his back and why is this now a required feature of hometown visits.  Anyway, on to meet the General and he looks military but like the Nice Kind of Military and not the Crazy Kind of Military.  Booze Family, of course.  The General isn't sure about giving Sean his blessing to marry his daughter but gives some kind of paratrooper speech and then it's cool.  I didn't really understand what happened there.  He gifts Sean with some dog tags and we are outta here.

Back to LA to meet up with Des and the Poors.  They start out with some hiking or something?  Natch, it's the first place people don't stare at the cameras.  Things can't be too bad!  Des's parents have a house!  Oh, no, wait, it's her house.  It looks nice and has a pool?  I guess not everyone in the family lives in a lean-to by the drainage canal! It's also filled with her "art" that looks like Cost Plus threw up on Pier One.

Who's this at the door?  Oh, it's an actor hired by the producers to pretend to be her ex so they can stage a fake fight and everyone is acting a lot and ho ho ho that was so funny.  I actually wish Sean had fucking hit these dweeb in the teeth but he doesn't.  Anyway, here comes the real fam and they might also be actors because no one looks remotely like Des.  Mom has a real ex-hippie vibe and Dad is basically a lump but Bro is covered in prison tats and has that kind of Meth/Mechanic thing going on.  He does not like this whole thing or maybe just doesn't like Love or Kindness in general because he darkly warns Des "Just don't fall for nobody."

Bro wants to "holler at" Sean and they go outside and Bro is very concerned about something called "reciprocation" and also he thinks Sean is a "playboy" which is FUCKING HILARIOUS because Sean makes Mike Huckabee look like Nikki Sixx and I think his idea of being a playboy would be to go to church with a girl without meeting her parents first.  Anyway, they're about two seconds away from a shanking when it's time to go back inside (no booze, BTW, because Bro is probably on parole) and tonight we're having Awkwardness and Tears for dinner.

Following a tense recap with Chris Harrison, it's time to hand out the hardware.  But wait!  In a SHOCKING BREACH OF ROSE CEREMONY PROTOCOL, Des needs a minute and tries to apologize.  OK, we gotta move on here.  AdopTee gets one, then Drunk Linds, of course, and then...oh no!  S needs another minute and goes to the Secret Room to look at their pictures.  Christ.  Chris Harrison tells him to pull the fucking trigger already.  With that, Des gets dumped.  I hope her Bro doesn't have Sean's home address.  Into the Crying Limo with you.

NEXT TIME:  Fuck, there's more shit TONIGHT?  "Sean Tells All"?  The fuck is that?  I don't know about that.