I’ve always maintained that the jobs boasting the greatest disparity of idiocy-to-compensation lies squarely with executives in Hollywood.
I mean, whose idea was it to remake cinematic gems like “Arthur”? It was bad enough to tarnish one of the all-time comedy classics, but to cast a talent-less fop like Russell Brand in the title role is something my grand-niece couldn’t envision – and she’s barely toilet trained.
Ditto for the remake of “Longest Yard.” Hey, I enjoy Adam Sandler as much as the next guy, but in no universe was he comparable to Burt Reynolds as the over-the-hill and imprisoned quarterback Paul Crewe in the 1974 original.
See where I’m going with this?
I think I can say with justifiable certainty that the dolts who approved those above-mentioned projects were and are compensated far more than I am.
But with the Coronavirus quarantine, you know what movie and character I feel that I’m starring in a remake of?
Jack Butler in “Mr. Mom.”
For those of you unfamiliar with this film, Michael Keaton plays Butler, a laid off auto engineer in Detroit who is forced to oversee the household while his wife goes out into the workforce. So, with three young children, Jack becomes chief cook, bottle-washer, grocery shopper and baby-sitter for the foreseeable future.
As his layoff continues, Jack sinks deeper into depression and commiserates with the neighborhood housewives with regular poker games using store coupons as chips as well as group discussions of the campy plot lines of “The Young and the Restless.”
Now as I’ve mentioned many times in this space, working remotely is hardly a new endeavor for me. In fact, last week marked eight years I’ve had a home office. In full disclosure, it took a longer-than-expected adjustment period. There were certainly things I missed about a traditional office, but eventually it became second nature.
But it’s different this time. For one, my one up close and personal social interaction each day came during my gym workout where I talked to folks who were not on the other end of a phone call or email.
But my facility has been padlocked since March 17, so my daily exercise routine consists of running or walking around the neighborhood. Secondly, my spouse and daughter are also working from home, so our kitchen has become a claustrophobic maze of wires and computer screens.
And there’s no telling when that will end.
So, I retreat to my upstairs office to keep my sanity in times that with each passing day I lose just a bit more.
Now I sit by the phone and hope to get a call from Hollywood to tell me they have this great idea for a remake.
Hey, I have to get through the day somehow.