Saturday, December 15, 2001

THAT WAS THE 'WEAK' THAT WAS: The touring Weakest Link contestant search hit Seattle today. Showed up at the new downtown Hyatt at 11 am. Got a numbered tag and was told to return at 12. At that time I was herded, along with 134 other hopefuls, into a big luxurious meeting room.

A sometimes annoying standup-comic type who claimed his name was Seven presided over the cattle-call round. We all filled out the five-page applications while Seven asked each of us to publicly describe ouselves in the manner of the show's opening (first name, age, occupation, hometown). There were lotsa would-be amateur comedians during this segment (one young secretarial type announced her occupation as "aspiring prostitute," for instance). This segment ended with a 20-question trivia test. Seven read the questions aloud; we answered on the last page of our applications. I knew all but two.

After a 20-minute break, I was one of the 27 from the large group invited to a smaller upstairs meeting room. We had our Polaroids taken, had short interviews with a second (and more obnoxious) casting coordinator, and were put into four groups to, one group at a time, play a quick round of the game in front of a little video camcorder. Of my three questions, I only got one right, but tried to at least be entertainingly wrong on the other two.

We were told that this round was mainly to test our personalities and "chemistry" with other players, and that the final decision on whom (if anyone) would get plane tix to Beautiful Downtown Burbank would depend on what types they're looking to mix-n'-match for any particular episode's roster. Even then, 14 people would be flown in, with the producers choosing the 8 on-air players at the studio. The rest would be eligible for future call-backs.

Both facilitators mentioned this audition was for the network WL with the fetishistically-prim Anne Robinson, not the impending syndicated version. We were even told to talk back to the second MC as if he were Anne.

It was a pleasant enough way to kill three hours. I didn't clam up on the camcorder, and remembered to smile and sass back when the male pseudo-Anne sassed me. I'm not obsessed with getting on the show, but it would be nice to get the trip and two free nights at the Sheraton-Universal.

posted by clark 11:29 AM

Wednesday, December 12, 2001

R.J. REYNOLDS is buying Santa Fe Natural, makers of that "natural" cigarette whose addicts often mistakenly believe to be (1) made by Native Americans and (2) "good for you" just 'cause it doesn't have additives. (News flash: Tobacco alone is lethal enough.) Maybe the brand will lose some of its unwarranted hipster mystique, now that it's just another part of an oldline mass-murdering cig empire.

posted by clark 2:09 PM

Sunday, December 09, 2001

AGAIN THIS YEAR, those fun-lovers at the Seattle Cacophany Society came out in force for "Santarchy" (aka "The Night of 100 Santas"), a Friday-night Belltown pub crawl.

The premise is extremely simple. Several dozen Santas (plus some elves, clowns, reindeer, and the occasional Mary and Joseph) walk from bar to bar, brightening the evening by their raucous presence.

They ask some random bargoers whether they've been naughty or nice. Those who say "naughty" get a small candy cane. Those who say "nice" are given a gentle lashing and a scolding "Wrong answer."

Despite the costume-party parody aspect of the event, it's one of the purest Christmas Spirit spreaders I know of. No sales, no soliciting, no pressure, no be-happy-or-else intimidation. Just good old kitschy joy.

(The Cacophonics do other stuff year-round, and can be reached at this link.)

Meanwhile, the most appropriate holiday greeting this year could well be the simple message at Ross Dress for Less: "Hope." (It's just too bad the sign's tree-ornament caricature looks too much like a lit cherry bomb.)

posted by clark 5:31 PM

GEOV PARRISH'S LIST of alternative war-news sources.

SOMETHING I'VE LONG DREAMED OF is finally almost here--the chance to have my own cereal! (A heaping bowl of Frosted MISCflakes, anyone?)

BURIED HALFWAY or so through this Seattle Times story is a great opportunity. The Washington Shoe Building, Pioneer Square's premier artist-studio space until all the artists were evicted for would-be gentrification last year, is now for sale at a relative pittance to anyone willing to finish the repairs from the Ash Wednesday earthquake.

That's just the sort of sweat-equity project artists often go for. Let's bring the Shoe back!

posted by clark 12:59 PM

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