Binge-worthy: Scott & Bailey

While watching Mueller testify and now during a break in the proceedings, I think I’ll finish a post I started last week about a TV show I am SO beyond excited to recommend to you!

And BTW, I think Jimmy Stewart could have portrayed Robert Mueller to perfection, but prolly lots of you don’t even know who the great actor, James Stewart, even is, so my suggestion is to Google him.

I’m not much of a binge watcher; in fact, I don’t watch a lot of TV at all, but I loved The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel and that’s about the extent of it. Oh, and Gossip Girl has a special place in my heart. Blair and Chuck forever!

A long time ago, I caught an episode of Scott & Bailey on our local PBS station and it piqued my interest. When I was bored and searching for something to watch on Amazon Prime besides my crush Paul Hollywood on the Great British Bake Off, S&B popped up, and I thought I’d start from the beginning.

I confess that I couldn’t get enough! It’s gritty, it’s real, and I was absolutely HOOKED.

I thought I’d ration myself to one episode a day to make it last longer, but that self control flew out the window almost immediately. Then I said to myself, “Self, you can watch two in a row, but that’s IT, I mean it.”

Well, that didn’t work either. I kept bargaining with myself until I lost all rational thought and binged the entire five seasons, knowing that when it eventually ended, I would suffer REAL pain and feel abandoned by these characters I’d come to identify with and LOVE. Yes, I mean that. I don’t use that word lightly, nor do I take those feelings lightly. I LOVE Rachel and Janet.

They’re two strong women whose lives tended to be screwed up and messy at times, but they PERSEVERED. They ENDURED. They never gave up. You haven’t lived until you study Detective Constable Janet Scott (brilliantly acted by Lesley Sharp) as she interrogates each and every criminal. From her Madonna-like smile to her soft and measured voice, she asks every question with pristine diction and straightforward dedication to solving a crime, often with a full confession. She’s the embodiment of speaking authentically with truth and conviction.(Ha ha, a double entendre.)

Both Rachel (Suranne Jones) and Janet are Detective Constables in the Major Incident Team of the Manchester Metropolitan Police Service, with the team headed by DCI Gill Murray (Amelia Bullmore), whose character is loosely based on Diane Taylor, a former Detective Inspector from Greater Manchester Police. Yes, it’s a Briit show.

Scott & Bailey was an original idea by Suranne Jones and Sally Lindsay. Jones felt that there needed to be more roles for women “that weren’t wife-of, sidekick-to, mother-of, mistress-to, etc.”[4] Jones remarked, “We were just chatting away over a bottle of wine in a pub” when the idea came to fruition. [Sidebar: see how much can be accomplished with enough vino??]

The creators paired up with Diane Taylor to create the program. The involvement of Diane Taylor as a consultant producer is credited with maintaining Scott & Bailey‘s “rigorous authenticity”. From Taylor’s perspective, television police procedures were often filled with not only technical inaccuracies, but what she felt were inaccuracies of how officers behaved, saying: “that’s what really irritates me in other dramas – detectives crying over dead bodies and getting drunk senseless. You’d last about two weeks”. She said, of her time as a police officer in comparison to portrayals on television, that “reality is much more interesting. I could pull a thousand cases out of my head people would say would never happen. People need drama because they would not believe the reality”. (Background curated from Wiki)

I’ve shared my obsesh with all my friends and a few are as captivated as I was and totally binged. But now it’s over and I went through cold turkey withdrawals, I need something else, cos I’m jonesin’ for a fix.

For me, the only downside of this amazing show was the outrageous number of smokers. At times, the smoke was so heavy, it almost gave me a virtual asthma attack. I only hope for their health’s sake that there’s a lot less lung damage in the real Manchester Police Department.

Watch it and let me know if you love Scott & Bailey as much as I do! And also share some of your fave binge-worthy TV shows.

“Them Beeyotches Be Cray”

“Them beeyotches be cray.”

That’s what Jeana Keough‘s daughter, Kara, said about Bravo’s Real Housewives of Orange County during the grueling two-hour test of RHOOC endurance celebrating their 100th episode.

Some of the original beeyotches

Some of the original beeyotches and their breasts.

I’ve been watching RHOOC since the beginning. I really hate myself sometimes for how much I love this real/fake/scripted show. Almost as much as I loved The Hills and Gossip Girl. (Yup, my real age is about thirteen. I admit it.) My tugboat man REEAALLLY hates it; in fact, it’s a deal breaker with us when he’s home. He REFUSES to be in the same room when it’s on — so I watch it when he’s out to sea or when he’s surfing.

I’ve seen all the different franchises; New York, Miami, Beverly Hills, New Jersey — I was totes obeshed with the original New York —  crazy Kelly and Bethany with her “satchels of gold”, but then I lost interest ‘cos it seemed like they were trying too hard for the camera and lost focus. Gia Guidice

At any rate, they lost me as a viewer. New Jersey kind of disgusts me; mostly I feel bad for all the children. My overall impression of NJ is that they all seem to be involved in some sort of criminal activity.

I don’t feel a connection to any of the cities except for OC, maybe ‘cos it’s just up the road from Casa de Enchanted Seashells.

I feel like SUCH the dirty voyeur peeking through the drapes when I watch the  drama and bad behavior. Even tho I know most of it’s not real, I’m drawn into it anyway.  When I see a row of Chanels in every color of the rainbow, I am so jel, I drool. Really. The pink Chanel. Drool.

heather-dubrow-picYa know how sometimes you meet someone and totes have the hate on for them immediately? That’s how I feel about Heather Dubrow, one of the newer cast members. OMG, I just Googled her name and it’s like Google can read minds with their predictive text. How did they know that I was thinking Heather Dubrow crazy eyes? Her eyes ARE weird; they look fully dilated ALL the time, very strange, very off-putting. Don’t get me wrong, I can throw down with the best of any mouthy Jewish girl, but she seems so mean spirited and supercilious — and she ain’t all that. I think she’d contrive to be a bit more humble – her weirdly Joker-like pointy scary face isn’t the best advertisement for her plastic surgeon hubs, if ya know what I mean. SUH-NAP…

I found these comments about her on Google, so it’s obvs I’m not alone in my opinion:

“Heather Dubrow has black zombie eyes with a face stretched like the Joker. Horrible underbite too. All that money, nosejobs, botox, etc etc and they can’t undo some genetics like her junkyard dog neanderthal underbite…”

“I think she is a plasticized, botoxed, wide-eyed frozen face horror movie doll.  This crazy needs to keep her big mouth shut.”

“She comes across as very overbearing and manic. She doesn’t look like she ever relaxes or is mellow. Almost as if she were on amphetamines. I don’t like her personality. It’s like she’s always studying others and her mind is never at ease. You get the feeling she’s never kind and gentle and has a Type A personality.”Jesus jugs

You know who I have sympathy for? Jesus Jugs, aka Alexis Bellino. I agree with her that the other beeyotches pick on her — I don’t know why she continues to allow the bullying, but everyone has their price, I guess.

I know what my price is; as much as I would love to be on a show called The Real Housewives of SoCal Tugboat Captains, I have a feeling it would be non-negotiable with Mister-Don’t-You-Ever-Tell-Anybody-My-Name-or-Post-a-Pic and that’s just for this blog. I can only imagine his response to being attached to a microphone and filmed.

Not. Gonna. Happen.

Lots of divorces are the intentional or unintentional fallout for exposing your life and secrets on a reality show. I’m not sure I’d want to sacrifice mine — but you never know…the lure of those Chanels is a powerful game changer. I could film it while my tugboat man is out to sea and he’d never know, right?

Do you watch any of the Real Housewife shows? Which one(s) resonate with you?(Just another way of asking which one is YOUR dirty little pleasure?)

A daughter-in-law dedication

My Saturday in SoCal has not been nearly as eventful as this. My son sent these pics from New Haven where he went cross country skiing in thirty-eight inches of snow. I hope everyone is OK and hasn’t lost power or anything!

This is my 200th post–what a milestone! It seems only right that I dedicate this to S, my DIL. She badgered encouraged me to blog, to share my thoughts and snarky commentary (and not bug her and my son so much??) and it was my son who set up the WP account. (I’ll save those accolades for his March birthday post-plenty of time to get your hankies washed, ironed, and perfumed–they’ll be drenched with tears. A mommy’s love is fierce, y’all. Just a warning.) 

miljokeI hope I’m not a bad MIL. I had two of the worst mothers-in-law you could imagine-three if you count my tugboat man’s evil stepmother. The first one wasn’t really that bad; she suffered from a lot of medical problems so I’ll give her a pass for that reason-but she was just a precursor, a forerunner to a doozy of a bitch. Hub’s mom; a laconic thrower of backhanded one-liners–a future post’ll share some of my most memorable experiences.

MIL noteHopefully, that’s taught me not to be SO terrible, but as mom of an only child who happens to be a son whose nickname is Angel Boy and on whom the sun rises and sets, you can bet there needs to be a bit of benevolence, compassion, understanding, and sensitivity on both sides. There’s a def learning curve.

(I’m sure she fondly remembers our house rule of “no cohabitation without documentation” before they were married.)

S has a great sense of humor and a highly developed wit–a great way to deal with a MIL! Right, S?

Although she did recommend I watch “Monster-in-Law”…do you think she was subtly trying to tell me something?

Is my DIL trying to tell me something?

Is my DIL trying to tell me something?

S is London-born with a Ph.D. in Neuroscience from Brown. She’s opened up my world to lots of cool things like Absolutely Fabulous, Gossip Girl, and Downton Abbey. She’s a girly girl in addition to all that brain power. We’ve had a lot of fun together: shopping, getting manis, and making candles. I never had a girl child so it’s been a lot of fun doing things that my mom and I did. As a family, we’ve all gone hiking and camping together–it was DIL who taught me how to “pop a squat”–a skill that’s come in handy more times than I care to mention!

I can’t share what she does-YET-but as soon as I can, you can be sure I’ll shout it to the heavens with PRIDE!

DIL earned a special title.

Isn't she totes adorbs?

Isn’t she totes adorbs?

When she calls (which she should do more often), I’m alerted by the screen telling me it’s Angel Girl.

Thank you, DIL!

Now I have ants, gotta get out of the house

This is the purest definition of irony. I am a fervent animal rights proponent. I am a vegetarian (mostly pescatarian) and I have been one since high school. I am being tested with one moral dilemma after another. First with the damn squirrels. One was OK; their apparent 19 Kids and Counting-style voracious breeding in combination with our hill crumbling from their relentless tunneling was another thing entirely.  I was at the point of going all Okie hillbilly on their asses when I came to my senses and had them enter the humane relocation program, but even that did not sit well with me. $400 later, yes, really, that’s how much that whole ordeal cost before the captain put his foot down and said, “No more! This is a potential nightmare. I am not going out to sea to support the critter control company!” Well, geez, tell me how you really feel.

And just this morning, I saw another one gaily strolling through the yard, bushy tail high and glossy in the sunlight, almost as if he was waving at me, “Thanks lady, more food for me! I’ll be moving in now, ciao!”

And if that wasn’t compelling enough to cause me to pause and think a bit, I have been infiltrated by ants. Ants in every room. Random ants. Ants in the upstairs bathroom. Ants in the hallway, ants in the kitchen, ants on the sofa. Ants in the freakin’ oven who somehow found the hidden brownies. Little soldiers marching on. I have taken all the pots and pans out of the cabinets. I have removed all the furniture in the family room. I moved the washer and dryer out from the walls to search behind them. I cannot for the life of me find an ingress, locate the breach, determine their origin. There is no clearcut path to follow with the ant spray, these are just random sightings that are driving me cray cray.  I can’t rest for a minute. I am on high alert with the spray in one hand and my camping headlamp firmly affixed to my head like a Blair Waldorf headband (Gossip Girl random reference)  in the other– in stealth mode, on my hands and knees, hugging the walls, carefully examining every inch of floor and wall.  And what of karma? Me, the animal lover, gleefully murdering these creatures? Am I a hypocrite? Are the ants sending me a message?

I got the message. It’s time for some retail therapy.  That’s the best solution for me. I need to take myself completely away from the situation. And maybe pick up a six-pack of Raid while I’m out…