created by: Rob McElhenney

It has come to my attention that Friday’s edition might have been a bit heavy on the girl-stuff. A chick-lit novel and a young female pop artist were perhaps more than my male readers wanted to take all in one day. To show my impartiality in subject matter, today I will be reviewing one of the most masculine television programs that has ever (dis)graced my DVR. Now before you guys get your boxers in a bunch, hang tight. The (dis) above was not meant as a ‘dis’.

This very nontraditional sit-com revolves around a neighborhood bar in South Philadelphia called Paddy’s Pub and the various miscreants who work there. It airs on the FX network at 10:00 PM on Thursdays. The gang consists of Dennis, Charlie and Mac (co-owners of the bar), Jack Reynolds (Danny DeVito), who owns the land the bar sits on, and Diandra (Dennis’ twin sister and Paddy’s bartender). A group of more dysfunctional, morally corrupt friends we have never seen… all wrapped up with the sense of humor of a 12-year old boy. Although I’ve never been to Philadelphia, I’ve always understood that ‘The City of Brotherly Love’ was said tongue-in-cheek…I hold this show up as evidence.

The show is in its fourth season (somehow I missed the first three…?) and has been renewed for another two, at least. It is tightly written and very well acted. It is smart, while being possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen on television. Do you remember the first time you heard Red call Eric a ‘dumb ass’ on ‘That 70’s Show’? Remember how scandalous it seemed to hear such vile language on television 10 years ago? In a recent episode of ‘Sunny’, the cast used the word ’shit’ probably a half dozen times before the first commercial break. This is very adult (and by adult, please note I do NOT mean mature) programming and is patently unsuitable for children, the elderly, and my mother.

South Park fans will know how that show is unconscionably rude but still has a profound moral underpinning (sometimes?). I toyed with the idea of saying that the moral underpinning here was the gang’s commitment to one another, their fundamental friendship. But on second thought, it occurs to me that I would run screaming from any of these folks as my friends. They are connected, sure…but are often victims of one another in heinous ways.

In last week’s episode ‘Paddy’s Pub: The Worst Bar in Philadelphia’ the gang kidnaps a reviewer who lambastes the bar. This may have contributed, in part, to the slightly negative tone of this review. (Having said that, do you think it makes me slightly crazy that I hope for that kind of success in my reviewing career? You know you’ve arrived when you’re kidnapped…)

In many ways, I’m ‘one of the boys’. Most of my friends are male. My best friend is a lesbian. I can hang with sports, I’m down with Hooters (they do NOT have the best wings, by the way), and I understand and often participate in the games men play. I have made a significant effort to like this show. I seriously committed. The seventh episode this season (entitled ‘Who Pooped The Bed?’) marks my final effort. Charlie and Jack (Danny DeVito) share an apartment and, it turns out, a bed. Someone is pooping the bed and the gang must discover who. At the end of the episode, when the culprit is revealed, he defends his actions by reminding the gang that ‘poop is funny’. Did I mention it helps if you’re a 12 year old boy?

It’s not that it’s a bad show. If you find practical jokes hilarious and want to glean ideas for how to treat your friends badly, this show is for you. If I should happen to be with one of the guys and they want to watch ‘It’s Always Sunny’, I’m in – and they’re gonna want to watch it. Who do you think recommended it to me (Thanks, R)? Even so, on Thursday nights if I’m home alone, I’m tuning back in to ER. It’s the final season. It occasionally makes me feel good about humanity. This is certain to never happen watching ‘It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’.

Season 1 on iTunes:

Season 2 on iTunes:

© Copyright 2008.

All Rights Reserved. All Wrongs Avenged.

Hi again, dear readers, and welcome to our first Tuesday edition. On Tuesdays the column will have a more local feel (local is the Piedmont of North Carolina, FYI), and we will also feature our Monthly specials – starting today with the cocktail of the month.

I know you’re all familiar with the Bloody Mary – vodka mixed with a spicy tomato juice, served over ice with a stalk of celery. But how many of you have heard of the Bloody Canadian?

OK, so it’s really called a Caesar. But it’s Halloween, and I’m trying to be thematic. And to those of you who scoff at the notion of a Bloody Canadian, I’d like to invite you to a hockey game. Hoser.

The recipe for a Caesar is basically the same as that for a Bloody Mary, with one major exception: In place of tomato juice, you use ‘Clamato’ juice – which is just what it sounds like: tomato and clam juices, together. This is recently available in our area grocery stores, much to my glee. To make the Bloody Canadian, I an incorporating one further change, introduced to me during my recent trip through the Minnesota airport. You may remember that I enjoyed a couple of Bloody Marys at the Northern Lights Grill – well it turns out the regional garnishment there is a large, pimiento-stuffed green olive. Ah, the smell of the briny olive overtop the tomato and spices…Heavenly. And thus, a new cocktail is born:

Bloody Canadian

Stir over ice. Garnish with a lime wedge and a couple of large stuffed olives. It’s nice to moisten the rim with a little lemon or lime juice and salt it, if you’re feeling luxurious (and not too concerned about your blood pressure). This is a great cocktail to serve with a steak dinner…but truthfully it’s at its most decadent with weekend brunch, next to eggs and toast. Bloody Good.

© Copyright 2008.

All Rights Reserved. All Wrongs Avenged.

Gather ’round children, and let Mama tell you a story. Once upon a time, when I was a little girl, Airline Travel used to be fun. I know, it’s hard to imagine, but I remember a time when the vacation started with the plane ride. It didn’t matter if you got a window or an aisle seat, there would be plenty to do and see and watch. A nice stewardess would come around with the best peanuts we’d ever had, and all the soda pop we would like. I remember my very first airplane ride. I was 5 years old and we were going across Canada from Alberta to Ontario to visit my Grandparents. My dad knocked on the cockpit door and genially asked the captain if his kids could come inside. It was exciting to get to choose from the Regular, Kosher and Vegetarian meals. It was like a restaurant in the sky! And just maybe, there would be a movie….!

Ah, the good old days. Between the anti-terrorism measures taken by the airlines and the obscene cost of fuel, flying these days is a chore, not a vacation. I made a recent trip to Western Canada from North Carolina on North West Airlines (NWA). I am pleased to report that I had (relative to the times) a pleasant flight. The nice folks at NWA let you check your first bag free (at least on an international flight), and they still offer in-flight juice, tea, coffee and soda free of charge. I will certainly make an effort to book with them again for my next trip, for these reasons. Now, I realize that the airlines are all about an inch away from bankruptcy, but to be honest the provision of an in-flight beverage is just that important. A girl gets thirsty whilst traveling and needs to whet her whistle. And this girl generally doesn’t carry cash…who does, these days?

The travel news is not all bad, thankfully. The free market has asserted itself in air travel, to much success. My connection for both legs of the trip was through the airport at St. Paul, MN. I honestly can’t imagine a more pleasant place to spend a few hours. Seriously, have you been to a large airport lately? Chicago has been capitalizing on this niche for years (of course, something like 80% of the flights in or out of O’Hare are delayed) and other airports are following suit nicely. St. Paul has no less than 14 different full-service restaurants (the likes of Chili’s, TGIF, and Wolfgang Puck), dozens of shops to choose from, a video arcade and a massage therapist. After a couple of great Bloody Marys at the Northern Lights Grill, I was kind of sad to leave.

As an interesting aside, I have often asserted that many of the airline security measures are undertaken simply to ease our minds as customers. I mean, after 9/11, any airline that didn’t make you take off your shoes before flying would certainly be reviled in the media as irresponsible. But seriously, folks. What can I possibly be hiding inside my sandal? Furthermore, the diabolical geniuses who plan terrorist attacks have probably been tipped off that they’re looking in the shoes. Let’s hide our [enter name of terrible weapon] somewhere else, shall we? To support this theory of mine, I present to you my experience at the above-mentioned Northern Lights Grill. I had two drinks and a burrito – fantastic fare for a reasonable price. Served with attention to garnishment and presentation on a lovely plate. With a fork and knife.

I’m guessing I could do a whole lot more damage with a stainless steel knife and fork (casually slipped into my purse while making banter with the bartender, perhaps?) than with whatever I can squish into my size 6 tennis shoe. Of course, that little girl flying across Canada in 1980 believed that by the time she grew up we’d all have flying cars. I continue to live the dream…

© Copyright 2008

All Rights Reserved. All Wrongs Avenged.