The Color Purple

Tragically, I've been away from Times Square this entire week. If you must know, a twitch has set into into my right eye, probably from the lack of minimal wattage my retinas have become used to. But would it really be fair to deprive you from your fix? I didn't think so. So, it's time to dig into the archives of my camera's memory card.

And...drumroll please...

Ta da!



What? Are you underwhelmed by this poster for HBO's latest "multimedia event?" Look, times are tough. They were trying to save on what must be astoundingly expensive multicolored printing on a poster that's 4x2 miles. And, at this point, the powers-that-be have surely decided that the fiscally responsible thing to do would be to have the company run by the best, freest labor there is. So the job fell to one person to find the color and that person, obviously, was the NYU intern.

I salute you, NYU intern. For selecting the first color that you saw in your NYU-merch-infested backpack, for spelling everything correctly, and for using the word multimedia. You are worth your weight in the free Diet Coke Home Box Office is plying you with.

And thank you, HBO Marketing Team, for taking what is probably an insightful look at an incredibly fascinating disease and advertising it in the least attractive way possible. No, the sheer size and audacious location of your ad doesn't make up for it. But then again, if you want to throw some of those Diet Cokes my way...I may be persuaded to change my mind.

A Parting Gift

As you may have gathered, there is hardly anything that can take me away from my cherished Times Square. In fact, I've been thinking about penning a Motown song to that effect...
Nothing you could say, could tear me away from Elmo (from Elmo).
Nothing you could do, 'cause there's not one, but two...of Elmo (two Elmos).

I digress. The point is only wild horses or jury duty could keep me from sharing my devotion to all things Times Square via this blog. Inconceivably, one of those two caveats has come to be (I'll let you imagine which one on your own).

This means that I won't be able to be your Virtual TS Tour Guide for the next couple of weeks. But as soon I'm back in Tourist Inferno where I belong, be sure that this blog will once again be your go-to destination for the 10,000-watt madness that you crave (don't deny it).

In the meantime, I leave you with this. The fanciest building in all of Times Square:



Where were you, Bow-Tie Building when I needed a date to the prom? I so would have been the coolest person there. Who wants to go with some stupid kid who can book a hotel room when I could have gone with a whole series of rooms?

We could have had something, BTB (Can I call you that? Or are you too fancy? Lord BTB, perhaps?). You with your chiseled body and steely...well, steel. Mugging with me for my mom's camera. Touchingly finding a way to buy me a corsage despite your lack of limbs.

But I suppose now we'll just have to make do with staring wistfully at each other, always left to ponder the might-have-beens of our bygone youth.

It's Official: They Are Building An Army

If I had to break down the entire conceit of this blog into one word, that word would be: WHY?

And really never has that point been made clearer to me than last night, when...

On my way home, I naturally strolled by Pimp Hat Elmo. And then, a few blocks later, Elmo 2.0. But only as I was just about to uneventfully go down the subway stairs did I witness this:



No, that's not a reflection you see. That is indeed a third Elmo within spitting distance of the second one. Now Pimp Hat Elmo obviously has a gimmick with his choice of chapeau, but is the demand for fake Elmos really SO out-of-control that there needs to be two of them staked out across the street from one another?

I had only just taken that picture when this happened:



Oh, yeah. Cookie Monster was there too. Why not? Note the matching Christmas stockings as handbags. Classy.

And then:



I'm sorry this picture is not better, but I think even my camera could not handle the WTF level of having Elmo 3, Cookie Monster, and Minnie Mouse standing in front of Ann Taylor Loft. Reasons being:

a) Minnie?! Girl, what are you doing hanging out with naked monsters? Where is Mickey during all this, huh? Probably sitting at home, all unsuspecting, wearing pants.



For shame, Min. Your slip is showing and the way Elmo is undressing you with his eyes is, quite frankly, creepy.

b) The matching backpacks and Christmas stockings lead me to believe that Minnie, Cookie Monster and Elmo 2.0 and 3.0 are most likely working together. Um, guys, in all honesty I think it would have been much more financially gainful for one of you to have chosen a different costume. What about Big Bird? Grover? Snuffleupagus? Could you just not decide who got the coveted Elmo spot that day? Or is this a case of the great Muppet costume variety shortage this country is obviously suffering from? Or did Elmo 2.0 just need red-furred back-up to take on Pimp Hat Elmo after their previous scuffle?

c) None of these characters would shop at Ann Taylor Loft. For one thing, three of them are naked. For another, I don't think that any of their occupations require business casual attire. Wait, let's see: Hyperactive monster with a blood sugar problem, child monster, child monster again, lady rodent. Nope.

As disturbing as all this is, this post would not be complete if I didn't tell you that my morning consisted of seeing a man in a Stewie head and trenchcoat, handing out coupons to Friday's. Don't believe me?



But that is another blog for another day.

The T-Shirt Code

Oh, Planet Hollywood. Just when I think I may not have material for a new blog post, you ride in on your crazy bombastic self and give me this:



Tourists and laymen alike, please remain calm and orderly when I issue this decree: the Holy Grail of these parts has been found. That's right, it is "The Ultimate New York Souvenir" and it resides within the hallowed walls of our very own Planet Hollywood.

The only problem is that, much like a Dan Brown novel, there are not going to be blatant signs as to which of the fine items in Planet Hollywood is The Ultimate Souvenir. So, to assist you, I shall point out ancient clues that were placed around the city centuries ago by the secret cult, Foresighti. Although these clues have been in plain sight and on New York's most famous landmarks for all these years, no one has had the key to piecing them together...until now.

Are you ready? Good. That'll just be $49.95 for the tour heart-pounding race against time. I hope you brought sneakers. And some sort of heavy sack to trade out with the Ultimate Souvenir so that the walls of Planet Hollywood don't cave in on you. Yeah, your unnecessarily enormous tourist backpack should do just fine.

When Times Square Gets Obtuse

I know that Times Square isn't the only place in the world where one of these exists and that it's actually a chain:



Regardless, I think it needs to be discussed.

Now I'm a fan of Forrest Gump as much as the next person cognizant in 1994, but I never really considered it a big merchandising tie-in sort of flick. And even if I had, I think the obvious choice would have been Forrest-branded boxes of chocolates, naturally. Maybe followed by Lt. Dan wheelchairs. But a whole theme restaurant centered around what is basically a dramatic saga? Do they want me to cry in my broiled shrimp, remembering poor Bubba? And also, why the hell is that shrimp in the logo wearing a top hat from his middle school production of A Christmas Carol?

But, look, if obscure merchandising is where you want to go, Times Square, why stop there? Why not reference all sorts of critically acclaimed films with your tourist's mecca. For example:

- a Rainman-themed casino, where they encourage you to count cards and play for K-Mart vouchers (I sense a sponsorship opportunity!).
- a Roots-themed travel agency/psychiatric office, perfect for that emotional getaway to your trauma-inducing past.
- a Godfather-themed....well, you could really go crazy here: pizzeria, stables, kissing booth.
- Sophie's Choice-themed scratch-off Lottery cards. Good luck!
- Brokeback Mountain-themed camping supplies and/or marriages-of-convenience certificates.

Go for it, TS. It'll really class up the joint.

Get a Load of This

In case you haven't heard, the Sci Fi Channel announced a few weeks ago that it was changing its name to this:



The reason given was, and I quote, "we needed to cultivate a distinct point of view with a name that we could own that invites more people in and reflects our broader range of programming."

I don't know about this, SeePhee (seriously, that's how I'm going to pronounce it). First of all, I think you're alienating your core audience - geeks* - who probably will be very upset over this broad encouragement of a gross misspelling, annulling all those hours and hours they spent being insufferable grammar police. I mean, you might as well have just gone all the way and made your motto Imagine Gooder. Not only that, but one of the tenets of geekdom is that you really don't want to "invite more people in." For one thing, this will seriously devalue your overlording smarts and for another, inviting more people in usually means that your chances of getting beaten up have just skyrocketed. It's like you're hitting them right where they thought it was safe, SeePhee, like an only friend who has just sold out their secret treehouse hiding place to the town bullies.

Something else to keep in mind is that you're now alienating a large faction of the Polish community, since Syfy over there means "crap" and, more compellingly, is slang for everyone's favorite venereal disease: syphilis. Programming based around either of those two subjects could definitely be edgy and possibly broader. But then again, doesn't Discovery Channel deal with those in a scientific sense and VH-1 in a more literal sense?

I'm just gonna come out and say it. I think you had a good thing going with Sci Fi. This is like the equivalent of your punk rock phase, where you used Kool-Aid to dye a portion of your hair bright red and then spent all day sidling up to walls so your mom wouldn't see it. And didn't your lunch money get stolen anyway? Of course it did, since it was really just like putting a big magenta target on your head. Why not accept who you are and display it proudly? It's true what they say, you know. Chicks dig confidence. And, okay, just a hint of social skills doesn't hurt.

*I can say all these things because I self-identify.

Life is a Highway...I Want Off at the Nearest Exit

We all know this guy, right? Likes to party, has crazy hair, friend to used car salesman everywhere:



Unfortunately, this is what happens when you place that guy smack in the middle of Times Square:



Inflatable Guy Suicide is a real issue, folks. First of all, do these Party Guys have any say over where they get placed? Sure, that Yellow Guy above has palm trees behind him and a fine specimen of a suburban parking lot to spend his days in. But what about our TS Guy? He gets placed on a traffic pole smack in the middle of The Worst Intersection In the History of Mankind. Tourists were probably trying get him to hold still for a photograph. Taxis were probably smacking his limbs every minute or two. He likely even got asked if he wanted discount tickets to a Broadway show at least a dozen times a day.

Does anybody ever stop and ask these Party Guys how they feel? (I'm looking at you, Dingy Elmo.) Think about it: day in and day out, being nothing but the plaything of the wind, dancing no matter your mood, having insanely unmanageable hair.

So one day, our TS Party Guy looked out into the sea of cars, of humans and of nothingness. And he gave one final exuberant jerky dance move that turned into a leap in front of the first 18-wheeler that he saw.

This is all that remains of him. Please, a moment of silence. And next time you drive by a used car lot, remember our friend who danced until he could dance no more.