In seventh grade, once a month we got what was called the "Weekly Reader." In it, among other things, were script portions from upcoming movies and TV shows.
I remember reading a portion of "Little House on the Prairie." This was just before the show made its way to TV. I also remember my seventh grade teacher bashing the show once it aired, saying that people in that time period were not as clean as the show depicted.
I will never forget the night the show was fist shown on television. My dad, a Michael Landon fan, made us watch it. I can remember not wanting to watch it, despite having done a read-along play of it in school. But after watching it, we -- my family -- was hooked.
Every episode was better than the last. And in every episode, as much as I tried to pretend it wasn't happening, I cried. Especially whenever Micheal Landon cried.
It was then, too, that my mother told me if I was going to be a writer, that I needed to be like Michael Landon, and write books that were wholesome, and impacting.
Recently, a dear friend of mine turned me on to a newer TV series. Friday Night Lights. I'd seen the movie. It was all right. Nothing great. Not like "Remember the Titans," or "The Express."
The series, however, contained more.
I registered with hulu.com and started watching Friday Night Lights from the beginning. Season one, episode one.
I am now just about done watching season one. And all I can say is ... Wow.
Not since Little House on the Prairie, have I ever been so emotionally impacted watching TV.
Yes. I love LOST and 24, but Friday Night Lights is ... well, intense.
I am not afraid to admit that every episode, yes, every episode, has brought me to tears.
Does that make me a Sap. It might. It does.
But the passion and intensity of the show is inspiring and impacting. Yes. Impacting.
Many of you may already be fans of the show. Many of you may not.
I love football.
The show is about a Texas high school football team.
Football is a major part of the story, but only as a vehicle. It moves the plot.
I just wanted to take a moment in my blog and compliment the writers of this show for creating a cast of characters, and host of real situations, and putting it all together in a way that ... well, in a way that, as a writer, I can only dream of one day doing ...
Okay. That's my blog.
Thomas
Showing posts with label TV. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TV. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
The Harvest Show (Pt. II)
I had a fitful sleep. Tossed. Turned. Folded the pillows, hugged them, threw them. It's tough sleeping in a strange bed in a strange city. It's tough, that is, until the alarm clock goes off. At that point, all I can think about is hitting the snooze.
I was up, showered and in the hotel lobby by seven. Too nervous to eat, I poured a cup of coffee and laced it with five bags of sugar and cream. The biscuits, sausage, scrambled eggs, pancakes, muffins and bacon all looked and smelled awesome. Eating before an interview, or even a book signing, is something I stopped doing long, long ago. Silly reasons, really. First, I always fear a piece of food will be wedged between my teeth and everyone will know about it but me. And the second reason, throwing up. I think I am a calm person, and talk easily, can strike up conversations with strangers without a problem, but on a full stomach -- that might make for a different story all together.
Anyway, the ride to LeSea Studio was great. I had the same driver. We picked up our conversation right where we'd left off. We talked about South Bend history, my writing, and his son who is currently serving in the Marines in Afghanistan and dreams of, when he returns, writing novels for a living. So as he let me off at the LeSea front door, I gave him a business card and said to have his son contact me when he returned.
Once I checked in with the receptionist at LeSea, I was led to the infamous "green room". It looked like a studio apartment. Sofas, chairs, dining room table, refrigerator, bathroom and --this is what set it apart from a studio apartment --a make up mirror. I helped myself to a bottled water and sat on the sofa and read the local newspaper, thankful I passed on breakfast. My stomach fluttered, flopped and flipped the longer I waited.
After reading the entire paper, the receptionist brought someone else into the green room. Larry Julian. He's a non-fiction author who was also going to be interviewed on the show. With about fifteen minutes left to kill, the two of us talked. We covered topics ranging from our writing, books, and where we lived, to Indiana, the show and keeping in touch. It was good not to be alone in the trenches. (A little too over dramatic? Uh-huh. Thought so).
Regardless. The hosts of the show appeared one by one, along with a producer and the man who applied make-up (to us all). A round of introductions were made and right after I wished everyone wore name tags, because I couldn't remember a single name. (For those of you who know me, you know nerves has nothing to do with it. I just am really--I mean really--bad at remembering names).
We followed the assistant producer, a very friendly, helpful man, to the studio where The Harvest Show is shot. It may have been colder in the studio than it was outside. Two of the three cameramen wore winter coats, hats, scarves and gloves. Think I'm kidding? I'm not. The tip of my nose went numb while watching the show, and a new worry came to mind. Forget food in my teeth, or blowing chunks --those fears were put to rest when I skipped breakfast. No. Now I was worried about dripping ... well, snot.
Larry Julian was to be interviewed first. He's a professional speaker. Does speaking engagements across the states on a regular basis. I watched him answer questions with such natural, flawless talent, I couldn't help but wish I'd gone first. Mr. Julian, poised and confident, was going to be one tough interview to follow.
When Julian's interview ended, and the show went to commercial, he came over. He looked nervous, as if talking with the hosts had been terribly difficult for him. Which shocked me. I told him how good he'd done, and he said he was going to stick around and watch my interview. Very supportive. I appreciated that. And then he asked if he could pray for me, seeing as my nervous were clearly getting the best of me. We prayed, and I felt a bit relieved. A bit.
(Want more about my trip to Indiana and interview on The Harvest Show ... tune in tomorrow for the next installment, The Harvest Show Part III).
Thomas Phillips
I was up, showered and in the hotel lobby by seven. Too nervous to eat, I poured a cup of coffee and laced it with five bags of sugar and cream. The biscuits, sausage, scrambled eggs, pancakes, muffins and bacon all looked and smelled awesome. Eating before an interview, or even a book signing, is something I stopped doing long, long ago. Silly reasons, really. First, I always fear a piece of food will be wedged between my teeth and everyone will know about it but me. And the second reason, throwing up. I think I am a calm person, and talk easily, can strike up conversations with strangers without a problem, but on a full stomach -- that might make for a different story all together.
Anyway, the ride to LeSea Studio was great. I had the same driver. We picked up our conversation right where we'd left off. We talked about South Bend history, my writing, and his son who is currently serving in the Marines in Afghanistan and dreams of, when he returns, writing novels for a living. So as he let me off at the LeSea front door, I gave him a business card and said to have his son contact me when he returned.
Once I checked in with the receptionist at LeSea, I was led to the infamous "green room". It looked like a studio apartment. Sofas, chairs, dining room table, refrigerator, bathroom and --this is what set it apart from a studio apartment --a make up mirror. I helped myself to a bottled water and sat on the sofa and read the local newspaper, thankful I passed on breakfast. My stomach fluttered, flopped and flipped the longer I waited.
After reading the entire paper, the receptionist brought someone else into the green room. Larry Julian. He's a non-fiction author who was also going to be interviewed on the show. With about fifteen minutes left to kill, the two of us talked. We covered topics ranging from our writing, books, and where we lived, to Indiana, the show and keeping in touch. It was good not to be alone in the trenches. (A little too over dramatic? Uh-huh. Thought so).
Regardless. The hosts of the show appeared one by one, along with a producer and the man who applied make-up (to us all). A round of introductions were made and right after I wished everyone wore name tags, because I couldn't remember a single name. (For those of you who know me, you know nerves has nothing to do with it. I just am really--I mean really--bad at remembering names).
We followed the assistant producer, a very friendly, helpful man, to the studio where The Harvest Show is shot. It may have been colder in the studio than it was outside. Two of the three cameramen wore winter coats, hats, scarves and gloves. Think I'm kidding? I'm not. The tip of my nose went numb while watching the show, and a new worry came to mind. Forget food in my teeth, or blowing chunks --those fears were put to rest when I skipped breakfast. No. Now I was worried about dripping ... well, snot.
Larry Julian was to be interviewed first. He's a professional speaker. Does speaking engagements across the states on a regular basis. I watched him answer questions with such natural, flawless talent, I couldn't help but wish I'd gone first. Mr. Julian, poised and confident, was going to be one tough interview to follow.
When Julian's interview ended, and the show went to commercial, he came over. He looked nervous, as if talking with the hosts had been terribly difficult for him. Which shocked me. I told him how good he'd done, and he said he was going to stick around and watch my interview. Very supportive. I appreciated that. And then he asked if he could pray for me, seeing as my nervous were clearly getting the best of me. We prayed, and I felt a bit relieved. A bit.
(Want more about my trip to Indiana and interview on The Harvest Show ... tune in tomorrow for the next installment, The Harvest Show Part III).
Thomas Phillips
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
The Harvest Show (Pt. I)
It was ... maybe a month ago when my publicist contacted me asking if I wanted to appear as a guest author on South Bend, Indiana's The Harvest Show. Apparently, the international show is available to (TV, Radio) over 43 million viewers/listeners across the globe. Without hesitating, I agreed.
On Monday, January 25, 2009, I took an early flight (United Express) out of Rochester, NY to, first, Chicago, and a second flight to South Bend. I love to fly. Not a big fan of flying in winter. Luckily blue, clear skies made up the forecast.
Once in South Bend, I contacted the hotel, The Inn at St. Mary's, where I'd spend the night, for a shuttle from the airport. The driver, a friendly man, shared information about the city as we passed through. He pointed out the Studebaker auto plant and explained that while it used to take up most of the city, recent efforts to tear down old, abandoned buildings was under way in an effort to clean up the overall appearance.
We passed through the small downtown quickly, as I was told that the St. Mary's was across the street from the University of Notre Dame. Unfortunately, it was five degrees outside. And as much as I'd of loved to stroll the campus, the cold was something I'd disliked just a bit more.
The room I stayed in was fantastic. King size bed, sofa, coffee table, desk with internet hookup, large TV with cable ...
But I was hungry. A lot of the places I called had been closed down. The failing economy evident everywhere. I bought Chinese, had it delivered. It was expensive, but I hoped worth it. Again, unfortunately, it was not worth it. The food did not taste good. When I opened the fortune cookie at the end of the meal, the fortune was all right, but -- you know how now they put words in Chinese and then in english on the slips of paper, and then phonetically, so you can learn Chinese words, as well as how to pronounce them? Well, my Chinese word was Beijing. Guess what Beijing is in English? Uh-huh. Beijing. And, you'll love this, it is pronounced the same. Go figure.
Anyway. I made some phone calls home. Let everyone know I was all right, and settled in to watch some TV before falling asleep. Luckily, a new episode of HOUSE and 24 were on. Both were gripping and entertaining episodes.
They kept my mind off the morning, when I had to be up at six, and over to Lesea Studios before 8:20 AM.
Eventually, around midnight, I fell asleep.
(to be continued ... Look for The Harvest Show (Pt. II )
On Monday, January 25, 2009, I took an early flight (United Express) out of Rochester, NY to, first, Chicago, and a second flight to South Bend. I love to fly. Not a big fan of flying in winter. Luckily blue, clear skies made up the forecast.
Once in South Bend, I contacted the hotel, The Inn at St. Mary's, where I'd spend the night, for a shuttle from the airport. The driver, a friendly man, shared information about the city as we passed through. He pointed out the Studebaker auto plant and explained that while it used to take up most of the city, recent efforts to tear down old, abandoned buildings was under way in an effort to clean up the overall appearance.
We passed through the small downtown quickly, as I was told that the St. Mary's was across the street from the University of Notre Dame. Unfortunately, it was five degrees outside. And as much as I'd of loved to stroll the campus, the cold was something I'd disliked just a bit more.
The room I stayed in was fantastic. King size bed, sofa, coffee table, desk with internet hookup, large TV with cable ...
But I was hungry. A lot of the places I called had been closed down. The failing economy evident everywhere. I bought Chinese, had it delivered. It was expensive, but I hoped worth it. Again, unfortunately, it was not worth it. The food did not taste good. When I opened the fortune cookie at the end of the meal, the fortune was all right, but -- you know how now they put words in Chinese and then in english on the slips of paper, and then phonetically, so you can learn Chinese words, as well as how to pronounce them? Well, my Chinese word was Beijing. Guess what Beijing is in English? Uh-huh. Beijing. And, you'll love this, it is pronounced the same. Go figure.
Anyway. I made some phone calls home. Let everyone know I was all right, and settled in to watch some TV before falling asleep. Luckily, a new episode of HOUSE and 24 were on. Both were gripping and entertaining episodes.
They kept my mind off the morning, when I had to be up at six, and over to Lesea Studios before 8:20 AM.
Eventually, around midnight, I fell asleep.
(to be continued ... Look for The Harvest Show (Pt. II )
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