Why Entourage is starting to feel a lot like the end credits of CHiPs

Towards the end of last week's episode of Entourage (which, in terms of plot, seemed only to serve as a 30-minute commercial for Marquis Jet and Kanye West's new album) I couldn't help but think that, with yet another feel-good and somewhat cheesy ending, the show has been treading dangerously into CHiPs end credits territory.

You know exactly what I mean: those last 2-3 minutes during the 80's cop show where Ponch (Erik Estrada), John (Larry Wilcox) and the rest of the merry gang of California Highway Patrolmen would start beaming their teeth, high-fiving each other, and generally ham it up on cue as the end credits started rolling.

Seriously, thinking back to that classic 1980's show's endings and its inimitable closing theme, I took a look back at what I was watching on HBO in 2007, and thought to myself: SSDD.

All they'd really need to do at the end of last week's Entourage episode was cue up the old CHiPs theme, have Turtle or Drama do some kind of pratfall to the bemusement of all, and have the camera capture the trademark freeze-frame reaction shots on Vin, Ari, etc. that Erik Estrada and crew so perfectly mastered back in the day. And there you'd have it: CHiPs for a whole new generation.

Seriously, I know Entourage is all about escapism and living vicarious lifestyles, but it's pretty obvious the show's been trending into a listless pattern of predictability of late. What, for instance, separated this episode from the four or five (dozen) ones that preceded it? Let's see:

E./Vin/Ari (take your pick) is about to lose his job/shot at bigger stardom/a huge deal because Billy Walsh/Turtle/Drama/studio villain of the week is being unreasonable/an idiot/a bigger idiot/an ass. Enter deus ex machina (i.e. Kanye West in this past episode), and everything is back to being hunky dory. High-five everbody!

Look, I'm sure they'll come up with something great for the season finale... a cliffhanger, some sort of bitter-sweet plot twist, or Drama being kidnapped and sent to a Chinese prison (hope lives). But I've been wrong before.

On the other hand, in sticking with and ending on the whole escapism theme, would I or the multitude of Entourage viewers really want something to screw up our perfect vicarious movie-star lives??

As they say, a lifestyle is a terrible thing to waste.

Message In A Bottle

Two great articles in this month's issue of Fast Company.

The first article, by Charles Fishman, narrates the meteoric rise of the bottled water industry. From ancient times to the present where bottled water has a chokehold on the global beverage market, Fishman details our fascination with bottled water, and tries to wrap his head around what it all means to us, the environment and our wallets.

A few choice nuggets:

• Americans drink more bottled water than milk, coffee and beer combined.
  
• Last year, we spent more on bottled water than we did on movie tickets, ipods and dry cleaning combined.
• Aquafina and Dasani–marketed by Pepsi and Coke respectively–hold about a quarter of the domestic market share, yet their product is merely purified municipal tap water.
  

Check out more factoids, as well as a sobering revelations on an industry that essentially fleeces us daily, but make us feel oh so healthy.

Second, but just as great a read, is this month's cover story on what may be one of the most impressive brand makeovers of this decade: Al Gore's comeback from epic loser (circa. 2000) to multi-millionaire, climate change spokesperson/impresario and potential kingmaker for the 2008 elections.

In anticipation...

With only a few hours to go before the last episode of The Sopranos EVER, it's not without certain trepidation that I await the ultimate fates of Tony, his family, and crew. Once those precious 65 minutes are over, I too will feel like a chapter in my life will be closing.

Okay, fine. The connection between us may not be quite so solemn, but like Tony, I do feel like I'm–in the words of Little Carmine–"at the precipice of an enormous crossroad"... a time of imminent transition, if you will.

You see, I associate much of my time spent religiously watching The Sopranos with my early years in Boston. The ship has since sailed on that era, but it brings me back to when I was still at my first job, and living alone (quite poorly in hindsight) in a crap apartment of my own doing [Note to self: police locks on doors, never a good sign]. Ever the opsimath, it took me some time to get into the show everybody was talking about. More precisely, it took me a Netflix subscription and a complimentary subscription to HBO to realize that I was in a very good position to get into it if I really wanted to.

Naturally, I was skeptical at first. Like perhaps 50.3% of the world's population, i.e. men, I am utterly fascinated with mob movies. The Godfather, Goodfellas, and Casino all hold a very special place in my heart, and dvd collection. Having seen the promos for The Sopranos and heard the hype for quite a while, I couldn't help but wonder how it would compare to the canon, and to what degree I would be disappointed. A show about the mafia and the main character is called Soprano? Fuhggedaboutit!

I received the first 3 dvds of Season One on a Tuesday night in the fall of 2002, slid them into my dvd player, and was immediately hooked. As I watched the episodes back to back (even after dinner while doing the dishes in a sink that was only a sink in name) I thought to myself: This is great television. This is masterfully nuanced art. This is f*****g amazing.

And it only got better. There are many pretenders out there, but what the creators of the show and its inspired cast have been able to do in the last 8 years, 86 episodes and 18 Emmy awards is put together one of the best TV shows of all time.

The generation before mine had the Godfather. We have the Sopranos. And I guess the children of the future are better off for having both. So thank you, Mr. Chase. Thank you, Mr. Gandolfini et al.

There are way too many good qualities to enumerate about the show, but among them and at the top of my list would certainly have to be the pacing of each season... it's like every one of them was a new "dish" being prepared from start to finish. It would begin at a slow-burn, throwing characters new and old into situations that would cause them to blend, simmer or–when things inexorably heated up–burn. Nothing was guaranteed, no one was safe, and loose ends were often left untied. Also, years would pass between certain seasons and the creators chose to use that to their advantage. The show moved with the times... often even presciently predicting them.

The second great quality that set the show apart in my eyes was the myriad of insights into characters (major or marginal) that were offered through both the stellar writing and performances. That Adrianna's ill-fated dog was called Cosette, or more recently, that one of the girls responsible for running Chris (Cristofuh!) and Tony off the road and refusing to call the authorities because they were driving on a learner's permit after dark was called Kennedy, for example, stood in my mind as being just masterful. Paris, anybody? Not to judge a book by its cover, but with names such as those you get an unbelievable amount of subtext from which to infer from. And that's writing, folks. One word *can* say it all.

And then there were the performances: nobody was really played for laughs or really over the top except perhaps for Paulie Walnuts, but that's just who the dude was... and it's believable. Everything is. Time and time again, it's been reinforced in the show that Tony and his crew are fully functional sociopaths, and that's exactly how they come across. I don't think Edie Falco or James Gandolfini could ever get enough plaudits for their portrayals of Carmela and Tony respectively. I particularly enjoy the additional heft that Gandolfini has conveyed to Tony this season as heard through his character's increasingly lumbered breathing. This again is not real, but legerdemain. And that's a testament to their craft.

Which brings us to tonight.

Will Tony live, die or turn? That's ultimately what everybody wants to know, and I for one can't wait to find out.

Ce n'est qu'un au revoir...

Our two weeks in Paris are over, and once again, it was really hard to say goodbye to the city I grew up in.

I love Paris, and really enjoyed it this time around. Our trip was memorable for many reasons: spending time with my parents in their new home, seeing old friends, setting foot on familiar ground, and gorging daily on pain au chocolat and baguettes.

An additional reason would have to be the length of our stay. In contrast to my last few visits where I was only able to stay for one week, or say 4-5 days, I was there for 2 whole weeks and it really made a difference.

Traveling to Europe from the US is definitely more tiring than the other way round. It often takes 2 to 3 days to acclimate yourself to the time difference alone. So if you're scheduling a vacation in Europe, don't shortchange yourself. Do it right. With two weeks in my pocket, I was really able to take it all in.

A couple of observations:
# 1: Paris is (even more) beautiful. When you grow up in a fabled city like Paris, you tend to overlook its beauty. Even the little things, like how the names of the architect's are usually etched on the front of buildings, or how the street signs have one or two lines explaining what or who the street is named after. This time around, it felt like Paris emanated even more elegance, its streets and avenues being more picturesque. A diamond to the mayor, Bertrand Delanoë, who decided to make the capital a little more green by delineating more travel lanes for cyclists and pedestrians. Coal to French drivers, who still drive like psychopaths.

# 2: Paris is (even more) expensive. Coming from the US, I felt like I was slumming in the Euro zone this time around. Being unemployed definitely put that extra hurt in the equation but still... it's gotten mad expensive. I remember the days when the Euro felt like play money: all those delightful bills of different sizes and colours... those coins revendicating their national origins on one side, while flexing the European motif on the other... and that highly favourable exchange rate. This time around, I simply yearned for the days when the currency was on parity with the dollar. We got killed out there: 2 coffees? 7 euros ($9!). 4 drinks? 48 euros ($65!). At least when you pay double digits for a drink in the US you get some alcohol. In Paris, we got some watered down ish while the people next to us constantly blew cigarette smoke in our face (thankfully that will all change come February when the smoking ban takes effect... hopefully, they'll ban crappy drinks too!).

# 3: Paris is full of (even more) loaded people. For every Smart Car I saw on the street, there was a Bentley Continental GT or an Aston Martin. I kid you not. One night, we went out to dinner at Le Bistro du 7eme and parked underground in a public garage. On our way back to our car, we must have pressed the B for b@ller button on the elevator because we were let out on this ridiculous level that looked like an airstrip. There, we saw 4 Astons, a Carrera GT, 2 Scagliettis, 2 Maranellos, and a colorful assortment of Modenas. And that was only on the left hand side of the elevator exit... I felt like I was in my virtual garage in Project Gotham 2 (old school xbox... I know) except that this time, everything was in ultra-high-definition salivation-inducing reality. To the uninitiated, the cars listed above roughly totaled a gazillion dollars, or 1,937,000 Kudos points in video game parlance. Needless to say, I pissed myself out of excitement... just a little bit, like Fergie.

#4: Paris is (even more) historic. No revelations or epiphanies here, but one night, we were all invited for drinks by an acquaintance who lives in Voltaire's old house along the river. I shit you not. To think that we were in the actual salon where Voltaire (no relation to Voltron), Thomas Jefferson, and other luminaries stood–including now my father with his glass of scotch in hand–was truly inspiring.


Notwithstanding these casual observations, it also felt overall like there was a different air about Paris and France this time. Perhaps because our visit came right on the heels of a historic presidential election, it felt like change was coming and imminent.

If, under Sarkozy, France starts rewarding hard work and entrepreneurs like the US does, I wouldn't mind returning there post-MBA. Hopefully it won't entail working at Starbucks, but I'll take what I can get.

Never Eat Alone and why "networking" is not a bad word

There's an old Italian proverb that says "don't mess with Tony Soprano". There's an even older one that says "he who eats alone, dies alone". A book I recently read that reaffirms the latter is the business bestseller Never Eat Alone by Keith Ferrazzi. It's all about networking and I couldn't recommend it highly enough. Not just for people in business mind you, but for anybody really. It's a fast read and stands out in my mind as one of the few "business" books I read in recent times that provides you with simple, actionable insights you can start implementing in your personal and professional life right away. In fact, if I had a children, I would make them read this before all the classics... possibly even before Frank Miller's Batman: Year One... possibly...

For the uninitiated, "networking" is basically a catch-all phrase for: let me try and meet the right people so I can find the right x, where x is what you want or need to improve your personal bottom line.

Sounds unnatural or self-serving? That's what I thought too. But as someone headed to business school, I felt like had little choice but to educate myself on the matter. B-school is all about networking. You either do it or you die (yes, that is an exaggeration). Before picking up this book, it was not without a certain measure of apprehension that I was counting the days to when, I too, would have to "network"... simply because I didn't think I was any good at it. The act of networking or being an actual "networker" always carried pejorative associations in my mind. The whole thing felt phony. At career fairs, recruiting events, or even the simple dinner party I would spot "networkers" with mild revulsion from a mile away. You probably would recognize them too: the smarmy, eye-darting, loud, fake Stradlater types who work their way around the crowd, making it their business to meet people, size them up and move on–if they figure they're not worth knowing (you included).

In Never Eat Alone, Mr. Ferrazzi reassuringly makes a point to single those type of people out as the "networking jerks" --i.e. the precise example of those who suck at networking because they're doing precisely what they shouldn't be doing: sucking... or to be more serious, wearing their phoniness on their sleeve.

Phoniness does not work. What does work, the author argues, is being yourself, transparent and passionate when you first meet someone because networking is an everyday process. Much like all speaking is public speaking, the book does a great job convincing you that networking is not a chore but a vital life skill you ought to master. If you are a shy individual or are afraid of public speaking, the book offers useful tips on how to overcome those areas.

At the most granular level (money, job, and success talk aside), the book posits the following: if you think your life is enriched by having and cultivating great people around you (and why wouldn't you?) then networking should be a conscious activity. And if you already have great circle of friends and acquaintances, then guess what: you're already a networker. But you could still benefit from enlarging your network.

Check Never Eat Alone for yourself. It obviously does not have all the answers, and often engages in too much gratuitous name-dropping for my taste, but you gotta give it to the guy. He does really know a lot of people. The book is a great start for someone who may not have much experience in the field, and definitely a must-read for anybody going into b-school.

Below, are a few ideas from the book that personally stuck with me:

• Networking is about building relationships and certainly not just about your bottom line. You have to proceed with a generous mindset: helping friends meet other friends and not keeping score or hoarding your own resources. By helping others, you will in turn make the sort of connections that will help you.
  
  
• Invisibility is a fate far worse than failure. If you don't put yourself out there, you will not succeed. At my old job, I was surrounded by people with stellar academic credentials. They were smart smart but stereotypically a little reclusive. As a result they missed out on the kind of bonds that are developed when people get to know each other outside of their work, the bonds that sometimes lead to more meaningful responsibilities. So don't be an imbecile, get to know the people you work with... but stay away from politics, don't be a gossip and don't be a phony.
  
  
• Don't be a phony. People will see right through you, so don't be that guy/girl. The one who everyone hates and that people throw a goodbye party for the day she leaves–ice cream cake, champagne and all–without actually inviting her. True story.
  
  
• Ping constantly. In this marvelous age of constant connectivity, you have no excuse not to "ping" the people in your network on a regular basis. For professionals, Ferrazzi claims this to be a must. The worst thing you could do is contact somebody only when you need a favour from them. That's the "networking" kiss of death. So ping away. Build it before you need it. On the personal level, pinging is important too. You *know* your grandma loves it when you call her. So why don't you just take a minute, and do it right now.

The Namesake and why Boston got robbed

So we trudged through the snow last night to go watch Mira Nair's The Namesake (and no, it's not pronounced the na-mé-sa-ké nor does it have anything to do with Japan). I liked it. I wouldn't say I loved it because I loved the book, and the book would just get jealous... but, overall, I'm happy that such a beautiful story has been translated to the silver screen and brought to a mass audience.

Things I loved:

1. The portrayal of the parents by Irrfan Khan and Tabu. I don't know what it was, but they both completely inhabited their characters. They made the movie feel close to home just as much as the book did. I almost cried at one point of the book (okay fine, I did cry -happy??). Predictably, the equivalent scene on film had the same effect. I sniveled like a child. This is huge, people. The last time I cried at the movies was during Armageddon. When Bruce Willis stays back on the asteroid to trigger the detonator to the explosives that save the entire human race.
   
   Yeah right, like you didn't choke up during that scene either... poser.
   
   
2. Summers in India... this was captured to perfection. Yes. They. Really. Were. That. Boring. My brother and I would count the days to our flight back. My brother once made me cry when I was 8 because, the day before our flight, he told me my family was flying back home, but agreed at the last minute to leave me behind with my grandparents. All I could think of at the time was I wasn't going to have McDonald's for a whole year. I cried my eyes out. Don't get me wrong. I love India, and I LOVE my family. But this was before The World Is Flat. No internet, no cable, no cell phones, no hot water between the hours of noon and six pm, no "showers", no "toilet paper", and no Coke. AND it was too damn hot to go outside and play.
   
   
3. Kal Penn. Kumar. Call me biased, but as an Indian male, I love it when an indo makes the big time (outside of India of course). Whether it's a billionaire steel tycoon who lays the smack down on chauvinistic regulators, or a hard-working restaurateur who has his portrait immortalized in the middle of Boston's hippest restaurant slash lounge, I have to say I love it when a person gets his due. Kal Penn is every ABCD's hero, and this movie is yet another example of his rising star. Honestly, perfomance-wise, I would say he was upstaged by his fellow veterans on the cast. But not to worry, he'll more than make up for it once Harold & Kumar 2 hits the screens. 08, you bastard, you couldn't come any sooner.

Things I hated:

1. Okay everyone. Here we are: rant time. The Namesake is supposed to take place for the most part in Massachusetts. That's right, Massachusetts, I had to say it. It had to be said. Why is it that filmmakers always feel the need to transplant stories to New York City to give them mass appeal? Sure New York is sexy, but you know what? It really sucks too. Bad things happen to good people, just like anywhere else. Plus, this only felt like, what, the 500th naive-immigrant-coming-of-age-story set in New York City ever been made???
   
   Once upon a time in America... been there, done that. The Godfather II... been there done that. In America... been there, done that. King Kong... been there, done that.
   
   What's wrong with keeping the story in Cambridge? Not authentic enough? Central Square, Cambridge, gets just as much snow and sketchy people roaming around your shopping cart as Scarsdale, New York, or wherever the hell they filmed those first scenes of the movie. Our apartments are a lot shittier too. As for the actual story, the father got his big teaching break at MIT. Don't tell me that's not good enough for a movie. Boston was robbed! Period.
   
   
2. The film premiered in New York, and LA but not in Boston. WTF. Anyway, you know where I'm going with this... Let's go Red Sox!