Phillipe & Jorge’s Cool, Cool World: No Deal!: Your superior correspondents decline to join the mall zombies

Blacked Out

If you are like Phillipe and Jorge − and probably blessedly not so − we have now had it up to our eyeballs with Black Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday Tuesday and Wednesday, month-long Black whatevers, and any other promotion on to which retailers can slap the name “Black.” Even the dulling effects of Thanksgiving turkey tryptophan cannot sufficiently calm us down.

This public perversion and hucksterism begs the question that if people can flog their merchandise at cut rates like these during the “Black” era, why can’t they offer the same deals to willing consumers on a day-to-day basis, “Black” or not? It reminds P&J of car dealers citing the “Manufacturer’s Suggested Retail Price, or (MSRP),” which is thousands above what the vehicle is worth, but makes it look like the steal of the century when the dealers shave a few thou off the top, and act like they are losing a limb in the transaction.


And while we are on the subject of “black,” if one more news or weather airhead tries to warn us about “black ice,’’ we’re going to lose our minds.

Ten years ago, these fatuous poseurs didn’t know what “black ice” meant. It’s a British expression, which indicates frozen areas on macadam which may not be immediately evident, but will give you a Tilt-A-Whirl experience you didn’t request. It’s like most Anglicisms that are fully embraced her in the US of A years after being popularized overseas. See: “git,” “swanning around” and “at the end of day.”

Meanwhile, if you can get through a weather or traffic report without being warned about black ice, switch channels anyway.

Will You Be Mine?

No flick is getting more exposure and media coverage these days than It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, the biopic about Fred Rogers, renowned from the TV show, “Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood.” And there is indeed genius in casting Tom Hanks as Mr. Rogers, the actor looking like he was born in a cardigan and soft-soled shoes.

Years ago, Phillipe’s father worked with Fred Rogers on a show that emanated from the Pittsburgh PBS station called “Davey and Goliath,” for kids of all ages with a decidedly moral bent. (No surprise, as P’s father was a minister who headed up an organization called “Religion in American Life.”)  After his first visit to Pittsburgh from New York City to meet Fred Rogers, he returned and told P, absolutely awestruck, that Rogers was exactly “what you see is what you get,” and the extraordinary calm, kind and personable character you saw on TV was just what he was like in person. That sentiment has been echoed precisely by friends and family of Rogers in all the interviews conducted about the man’s life as the film promos began flowing. Not the worst legacy to leave, eh?

(A fashion note here, if you will: Years ago, P wore very comfortable canvas-top shoes with rubber soles as he did a lot of hoofing it around New York, especially during the mass transit strike, when he had to walk 60 blocks to work from Soho to the upper West Side Side, and then back again. And we aren’t talking about the ridiculous and atrocious white-soled sneakers that many on-air folks now seem to think as acceptable, but look absurd when worn with a suit and tie. One day his secretary, who was Puerto Rican by birth and a wiseass by choice, had her 14-year-old sister who was just as mouthy, visit the office. She spotted P’s canvas kicks, and exclaimed, “Wow! Sneaker joints!” When P. asked her what she meant, she said “Well, they look like shoes, but they feel like sneakers, so they’re the joint.”  Now that’s logic. And who says we aren’t fashion-forward?) 

Anyhoo, if you do see It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, know you are seeing the real deal, however astonishing.

I Just Want to Testify

No more humorous idea from President Psycho than he would be willing to testify in the impeachment hearings, in writing, of course. Since the boy-child can’t open his mouth without lying, putting him in a seat in front of questioners who can actually read and write would admittedly be hilarious in what kind of responses he would conjure up from his fantasy world, but we imagine he is already on a short leash.

The most recent laughable moment (one pick out of many) had President Pussy-grab saying that he was exonerated by Ambassador Sondland who said there was “no quid pro duo” with the Ukraine following his testimony. Then the network TVs had the audacity to show a video clip of Sondland saying, “Was there a quid pro quo? Yes.” Ooops.

So even if the Orange Orangutan offers his written testimony, how many lawyers, people running his comments through spellcheck and correcting grammar, and people willing to tell him he’s lying through his teeth do you think it will take? And they might explain to him that there is such a thing as videotape, which even in this corrupt, Banana Republic administration can be fairly convincing. 

Ain’t life with Donald Trump just a joy?