Fanzilla Goes Backstage

Fanzilla just had the opportunity to take a little 'Zilla to her current favorite Broadway show, and by the magic of brothers' ex-girlfriends, was invited to venture backstage.

Aside from appreciating probably the largest collection of non-coin-operated washing machines in all of Metropolis, Momzilla quietly awarded herself snaps for neither hugging nor shouting "Hit!" at Paul Canaan, and asking for nary a single autograph.  Not even on behalf of the youngun, who was somewhat disappointingly blase about the whole thing.

That said, the whole family will continue to religiously tune in for the ongoing search for Elle Woods.  Because now that annoying Cassie is finally out, the ladies can get down to business.

And in one tidbit of skating news, stay tuned for a possible pairs injury.  :(

Fanzilla's New Digs

Those of you paying attention have, by now, noticed that Fanzilla has carefully unpacked her archives here at Blogger, courtesy of Mintmogul.  She appreciates her new digs, and fully plans to dig further in the fan world this coming season.

Of note, Fanzilla is a huge (and this is NOT a hip measurement reference) new fan of the ice dance team of Charlotte Maxwell and Nick Traxler.  This team, easily recognized by their matching warmup suits emblazoned with "MaxTrax" on the back, is notable for the proclivity to sing along with their free dance music.  Nick claims that he is merely emoting, but I saw the unmistakable lip motion of "R-E-S-P-E-C-T" during their Motown program at the 2007 USFS Nationals in Spokane.  Look for an OD to "Chicago" and free dance to selections from Queen that promises to be way better than Timmy Goebel's disaster Queen program...and not only for the singing along option.

(Originally published January 27, 2008)

Dick, Button Up

As I mentioned to Momzilla, there hardly seems to be any figure skating on TV this season.  I'm not sure if it's because I've had less access to Canadian TV than usual, or if it's because I refuse to watch music-and-skating-extravaganzas (Wynonna, I mean you), but it's a relief to see the U.S. Nationals this week, so that we can see what's up with our old friends. 

First. let's talk about the commentators.  Is it just me, or is Dick Button becoming creepy?  Between his discussion of the sexual chemistry of the teen ice dancing teams, the narrow hips of the pre-teen ladies' skaters, and his spine tingles, I was disturbed.  And I think Bob Costas was, too.  That said, he could have been disturbed by Jamie Sale's hair -- girlfriend, why the soccer mom do?  And why were your pants so wide?  It's very depressing to see someone so cute look so busted, because it gives the rest of us no hope of being cute.  I have to give props to Dave Pelletier -- he was very insightful about the pairs, in particular, and a good sport all around, as he was in 2002 when he and a better-coiffed Jamie were robbed of their gold medals.  I'll give a B+/A- to Scott Hamilton and Peggy Fleming, who were both as appropriate as ever, though crowded out a bit -- but, Scott, try not to strain so much while commentating.  Seriously.

Given the lack of skating on TV, and the lack of people caring about skating gossip on mainstream gossip sites, somehow I'm the last person to know that Tanith Belbin and Evan Lysacek have been dating for almost 2 years.  Again, very depressing for those of us who are not nearly as stunning as Tanith -- if she's going for someone like Evan, what about the rest of us?  To be fair, she may not meet many straight men and her line of work.  And I've generally decided to stay away from college-age mens anyway.  But, it is food for thought.

On that note, I'm not sure that Rene Inoue was all that thrilled about the on-ice proposal from John Baldwin.  Maybe she's excited about getting married, but the public proposal, when she's busy trying to secure as many stuffed animals and flowers as possible, seems a little ill-timed, and it's so cheesy that it was probably cut from the script of The Cutting Edge.  That said, congratulations, guys!

As for the skating, some surprises, but not really.  It's hard to know who to root for, especially in the ladies, when phenoms come and go, and the status of the big stars (Michelle, Sasha, I mean you), is unknown.  That said, those teen jumping dynamos were all charming, and deserve their medals.  The pairs and dance were interesting, and Belbin and Agosto were really quite powerful.  I haven't finished watching the men's skating, but I can say that I am in favor of the pants with Asian dragon motifs. 

All this being said, I think the only answer to Dick Button is to invite more and more commentators, so that eventually he has no time to speak.  Seriously.

(Originally published November 4, 2007)

Friendzillae and How Not to Fanzilla #4: Get Up, Stand Up!

I'm glad to report that my protracted absence has been spent observing fanzillae in their natural habitats, and witnessing some truly fanzillatastic behavior.  In fact, I have had the privilege of watching friends blossom into the most wonderful fanzillae of all -- the friendzillae.  Friendzillae are those friends who are so passionate about the object of their obsession that they share every scintilla of news with you as a cherished gift.  And it is a gift -- the gift of their infectious enthusiasm, and an opportunity to bond over a common interest.  Also, having a friendzilla around puts a public face on one's (mostly private) obsessions.  Where some fanzillae might secretly trawl YouTube for ice dancing videos, most friendzillae share their finds and their enthusiasm.  And, if it's about ice dancing, then you know that it's a kindered spirit.  So, in sum, up with friendzillae!

Yet, in every crowd of fanzillae and friendzille, a little rain must fall.  Without further ado:

1.  To the people seated in the first row of Section 315 at Madison Square Garden on October 31:  Ok, so you weren't keen on standing for the concert, but covering your ears during the opening act was a little rude.  Still forgivable, since you weren't there to see them.  However, when you asked the usher to make the ENTIRE SECTION sitting in front of you sit down, that was going too far.  I'm not surprised you left early. 

(Originally published October 2, 2007)

Get Outta Those Stands, Get Into the Challenge

For those of you following the goings on over at Embittermints, you know that things are busy.  There are some serious fanzillatastic items to discuss -- the relationship between Fanzilla and Superfan, how much sports paraphernalia is too much, and, as always, Dick Button.  But, while I gather my thoughts on these topics, let me encourage all of you to donate to the Donors Choose challenge sponsored by Tomato Nation.  They've raised almost $35,000 in less than 48 hours.  Stupendous, even moreso than any Johnny Weir costume.

Seriously, go forth and donate.  And, for those of you who migrated here from Momzilla, maybe we should consider a skating or ice themed set of items of our own.  Ask your skating teachers!  Just think, there are Little Champions out there with no one to Momzilla them, and there are potential stars who are one good experience away from having hordes of Fanzillae stalking them at every turn.  Don't let these objects of obsession languish in obscurity!

(Originally published September 9, 2007)

How Not to Fanzilla #2: US Open Edition

So we move from the musical stylings of various power pop bands, to the powerful pop of tennis balls.  Yes, it's September in New York, and time to review the bizarre and disturbing behavior of tennis fans.  Here is some unsolicited, but undoubtedly helpful advice for my fellow attendees at the 2007 US Open.

1.  Do not dress in tennis attire, unless you are playing a match.  Seriously, people.  I don't want to see how you look in Roger Federer's all black ensemble, and I don't want to see you walking around the grounds in that get up, even if I think he sort of looked groovy.  You haven't won 12 Grand Slam titles, which may affect your ability to wear it well.  Because you don't.  And skating fans?  This goes double for any of you who are considering any costume worn by Johnny Weir.

2.  To the people who brought the Jana Rocks sign to the Martina Navratilova-Jana Novotna Women's Champion's match.  I admire the depth of your devotion, to someone who has really not been on the radar for eleventy gazillion years.  Are you related to her?  Or are you some manner of underground Jana Novotna cult, who, in addition to making the aforementioned sign, spend meetings writing nice notes to the Duchess of Kent about how comforting she was during Jana's agony of defeat?

3.  To the couple sitting in front of me during the Navratilova/Novotna match:  taking an extreme close-up of one's girlfriend's big honkin' nose with Martina in the background is all kinds of inappropriate and bizarre.  You should have been sitting behind me, because your fandom is lesser than mine.  Although her nose isn't.  Dude.  That said, it would be completely appropriate to take one's picture at a concert while giving a thumb's up with Sting in the background.  Not that I know anything about pictures like that.

4.  To the children:  I know you're young and cute (or at least just young), but maybe sometimes the adults can have the ball that happens to fall between you and an adult after being hit into the stands by
Venus or Serena?  I'm just saying. 

Well, the skating season will soon be upon us, until then, behave!  And buy some Embittermints.

(Originally published August 27, 2007)

Fanzillamom: Braving the Show

In the next five weeks, the Fanzilla-Momzilla hybrid, Fanzillamom will be laying it all on the line for the love of both genres.  Fanzillamom will be taking her young skaters to see...

Kristi Yamaguchi and Friends on Ice, Featuring The Cheetah Girls and Corbin Bleu

Fanzillamom hopes for a few things from this experience:

• Reasonable seats, close to a purveyor of margaritas
• Moral fortitude to withstand the inevitable prepubescent "girl scream"
• A spectacular hair day for Corbin Bleu
• Duly appreciative children who laud Fanzillamom for the love that it must take to undertake such an adventure
• Fanzillatastic stories to report about some of our favorite skaters of yore...or at least the 90s

Fanzillamom promises to keep you posted.

(Originally published August 20, 2007)

Fun With Fanzillae

So, I am writing this missive from jury duty.  I am not a fan or friend of jury duty.  I am decked out in my don't-pick-me outfit of a t-shirt with a foreign language slogan, jeans, and sensible shoes, making me impossible to stereotype and completely objectionable.  They do have free internet access, which is nice. 

Since the last update from the concert trenches, I had the pleasure of seeing another Crowded House show here in the NYC area, which was even more fun than the firsts one.  Why, you ask?  Because I got to share it with fellow Fanzillae, and I even made a Friendzilla, with whom I hope to attend more shows and share a mutual love of music and those who make it.  Reliving every minute of a show with a Fanzilla is really quite life affirming, or at least confirmation that if I am in fact crazy, I'm not there alone.  And, we didn't have to bond over the inappropriate behavior of our fellow concert-goers to get there.

No worries skating fans, as the summer ends, we'll be awash in spirals, Salchows, and sequins.  And Dick Button.

(Originally published August 4, 2007)

How Not to Fanzilla #1: Police/Squeeze Edition

Within every Fanzilla is a life-long quest directed at one of her objects of admiration.  In the case of Mrs. Danny Bonaduce, that quest is marrying her favorite member of the Partridge Family.  In my case, it was seeing the Police live in concert -- which I managed to achieve last week.  And it was everything I had hoped it would be when I set this goal, in between arranging my Smurf and sticker collections in 1983.  The only difference is that in 1983 I would not have spent any time lamenting the fact that AARP eligible Sting looks better than I ever will in skinny jeans. 

However, whenever Fanzilla finds herself in a crowd, there are always a few people who behave in truly bizarre ways who Need To Be Told.  Given that Fanzilla is at least a foot shorter and a few drinks more sober than these people, I have chosen the relative safety of the internets to advise my fellow concertgoers. 

1.  To the nasty woman in Section 111, Row E, Seat 16 of the August 1, 2007 Police concert at Madison Square Garden:  Spending any time on your cell phone during a concert is d-u-m dumb and pretentious.  Also, your plumper, shorter sidekick (who was also much nicer than you, as plumper, shorter sidekicks tend to be) moved out into the aisle and we all moved to the right so as to be able to see over Tall Guy.  So, there was no reason for you to start yelling at me when the security dude shoved you two back into the seats.  I was moving over as fast as I could.  Also, it totally serves you right that Tall Guy decided to sit on the top of his seat and lean back into you.  After Tall Guy leaned back into you and blocked your view, I wasn't giggling with joy about seeing the Police after waiting for 24 years.  I was giggling because I love instant karma.  Clapping right into his ear was a sucky thing to do to get Tall Guy to move.  Try asking nicely, if you ever learn how.  In other words, you suck.  And bite me.

2.  To the couple in the Orchestra, Row P, Seats 112 and 113, at the Squeeze show at the Beacon Theater, New York City:  I understand that you love Squeeze and that you love each other.  I also understand that you like to dance and that you are attracted to each other.  However, when Couple Girl wanted to dance while Couple Guy was sitting down, it was not appropriate for Couple Guy to rub his hand across her behind in a back and forth pattern or in a circular pattern.  This is tacky.  People behind you will bond by exchanging bemused and disgusted glances.  On a related note -- I'd like to give a shout out to my new best friends in Row Q!

And now for some props:

3.  To the groovy dude in the straw hat in the Orchestra, Row O, Seat 1, at the Squeeze show at the Beacon Theater, New York City:  You are a bad mama jama!  Your dance moves were large, chaotic, unorthodox and sublime.  It was a cross between Michael Stipe in the Losing My Religion Video and Wayne and Garth in the car during Bohemian Rhapsody.  You inspired everyone around you to dance big and dance proud.  Have you considered taking up figure skating?  You'd rock out the presentation scores, although Dick Button may not approve.   

(Originally published July 31, 2007)

Fanzillatastic!

I love it when relatively mainstream media outlets express their Fanzilladom.  The use of the Stevie Nicks/Lindsey Buckingham/Mick Fleetwood love triangle to counter advice on office dating in Gawker today is the most fanzillatastic thing I have seen in a long time.  First, the depth of knowledge speaks to having seen the Fleetwood Mac, Stevie Nicks, and Lindsey Buckingham Behind the Music specials, as well as to repeated viewings of The Dance.  Second, linking to the awesome clip from the Tusk documentary, available only through pirated videotapes that have been put up on YouTube reveals that the author is either a) a long time fan who caught the documentary on tv in the 70s or b) part of the fan community who has circulated the video long after its initial broadcast.  I'm voting for (b).  Third, any reference to the Buckingham Nicks album, much less individual songs on it, is extremely hard core.  Trust me, I have "Holiday Road" on CD.

But the most impressive thing about this article is how the author shows how the lessons learned from the objects of one's fanzillatude can inform one's own life decisions.  Stevie/Lindsey/Mick do present a cautionary tale about office romance, but also highlight the upside.  Yes, it's bad to date the long-haired, coked out, icky drummer, because it's nasty, but it's good to date the cute guitarist with the mad skills and lilting voice, because you can sound good together, write great tunes, get into a band and get superfamous.  Note to self, find Lindsey Buckingham type to date and dump so as to get superrich and have a Behind the Candy special about Embittermints.  (Speaking of candy, don't forget to enter the contest to win like a gazillion Ring Pops here).

That said, this is an acceptable level of fanzilladom.  It's not as if the author is advocating mass shawl and platform boot purchases to woo the co-worker of one's dreams.  That might be too far, unless, of course, one is in Fleetwood Mac.  And, Mick?  Don't try it, I don't think lighting strikes (maybe once, maybe) twice.

(Originally published July 30, 2007)

Figure Skaters: Tougher than Bear Grylls?

Anyone who has read Momzilla: Notes from the Sidelines knows that Momzilla has something of an obsession with Bear Grylls of BBC's Man vs. Wild.  After watching Bear rub his body with snow to warm up after an icy dip in a frozen lake, it occurred to Momzilla that Bear might make an excellent figure skater.  On further investigation, however, it may be that figure skaters are actually tougher than Bear.  And this has nothing to do with the recent revelations that Bear may have slept in motels instead of lean-to's padded with pine needles from time to time.  (Truth be told, the ability to locate a motel seems like a reasonable survival skill in itself.)

No, this revelation stems from the chapter of Bear's career when he suffered a spinal fracture and was sidelined in rehab, unable to return to full physical activity for more than a year.

Compare this, if you will, to Senior U.S. pairs skater Derek Trent, who suffered a vertebral fracture in October 2006 and went on to compete at Skate America (October 2006), Skate Canada (November 2006), Midwestern Sectionals (November 2006), and U.S. Nationals (January 2007).  Check him out at Skate Canada 2006. (courtesy youtube.com)

Now, of course, it is impossible to make a direct comparison between the injuries, as Bear had three fracture sites and Derek only one.  Fanzilla is simply pointing out that the figure skater managed to perform -- admirably -- with a broken back.  So if Bear is going to fulfill Momzilla's fantasy and take up figure skating, he just may have to toughen up a bit.

(Originally published July 17, 2007)

Listen to the Band

At the risk of alienating my skating-based audience, I am going to begin the Fanzilla discussion with the most dedicated Fanzillae I have had the good fortune to encounter -- the cover band.  For research purposes and also to sing along to "Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)" and "I'll Be Alright Without You." I managed to catch a show by Evolution, a Journey tribute band, last week.  These guys put every other Fanzilla I have met to shame.  They know every note, every pause, every dynamic, and every idiosynchratic gesture made by their alter egos.  The lead singer mastered Steve Perry's sound, hairstyle, moves, and tight jeans in a way that only a Fanzilla could.  I'm not sure if every guy with straight black hair would morph into Steve Perry if he grew the hair out, but I know that Hugo, the lead singer of Evolution, transformed himself into Steve Perry on a molecular level while he was playing.  Seriously.

And, I have to say, I think it was a labor of love on the part of Evolution, or at least of skill and commerce.  Nothing vaguely Single White Female about this at all, actually.  Well maybe a little SWF with the Hugo/Steve Perry resemblance, which is alarming.  That said, I think that the guys used their love of Journey, plus a helping of skill, and probably some repeated viewings of the videos, to make themselves into Journey.  The funny thing is that at least two band members also participate in other tribute bands, for Rush and Elton John.  Strange, eh?  Are these guys fans, as in abbreviated fanatics, or just really good friends? 

Probably a little of both.  Moving from great admiration and respect of a performer to actually transforming oneself into said performer and earning a living from such transformation speaks a little to the crazy, since most people are not going to be cherry picked into their favorite band a la Marky Mark in Rock Star.  So, a little crazy, right?  But Evolution can count two band members (ok, one is Gary Cherone) as fans of their work, and they probably help sell more Journey albums and generally promote the band in a meaningful way.  Them's friendly, no?

This does happen a little in skating, but not to such extremes.  We won't be seeing skaters grow out their hair to resemble Philippe Candeloro anytime soon.  That said, the partners of Artur Dmitriev are an illustration of the art of imitation.  We all remember Artur Dmitriev and Natalia Mishkutienok, gold and silver medal winners, creators of that famous spin where she is in a split under his leg, and all around good sports.  Once Natalia retired, Artur found Oksana Kazakova, who bore no resemblence to Natalia physically and did not try to, but who imitated Natalia's moves just like Hugo imitated Steve Perry last weekend.  Of course, it came off as a strange Dmitriev-as-Svengali moment, rather than Single White Female, but, believe me, it wouldn't be tolerated outside of pairs skating. 

The lesson: imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but go too far, and you're in a bad Bridget Fonda movie. 

(Originally published July 5, 2007)

Fan Is Short for Fanzilla 

Prince once said that he doesn't like to refer to his admirers as "fans" because "fan" is short for fanatic, and he views his supporters as "friends" rather than insane people.  If that's true, then Prince and I are the kind of friends where I buy his products and have to pay at least $75 to be within 1000 feet of him, and we are always separated by large body guards and metal gates.  Come to think of it, I could use more friends like that -- ones who will buy my product and from whom I can be separated by large mens and metal fences.  I'll have to work on that. 

The thing Prince has wrong, other than putting out too many albums and renaming himself as that symbol, and is that many fans are in fact crazy.  There is a little of the crazy in each of us as we deal with our fandom, whether it's watching the blurred images of the Winter Olympics through no reception in a college dorm room, knowing that the Charlotte move that Michelle resurrected was originally from the Sonja Henie era of skating, camping overnight for tickets to anything, or trawling YouTube to find the routines of Klimova and Ponomarenko from the early 1990s.  So, as much as I love When Doves Cry and all of the songs he wrote with Sheila E., Prince has got it wrong -- fan is short for fanatic, and most fans have some crazy fanaticism in them (and some of them are short, too). 

So, here, we will explore the ins and outs of fandom, largely in skating, but also in other venues.  Is there such a thing as non-crazy fandom?  If so, where is the line?  Does it stop at having a small collection of newspaper clippings, or is everything up to devoting all of one's spare time and money to support one's object of admiration fair game?  Also, what is up with Dick Button?   

Important issues all.  Stay tuned.  Also, buy some Embittermints.

(Originally published July 4, 2007)

Another Zilla Is Born

I swear, that Zilla family is multiplying like rabbits!  Or synchro teams.

It was only a matter of time before Momzilla's cousins started showing up to the scene, so I am pleased to introduce you to Fanzilla.  While this post is titled "Another Zilla is Born," I must disclose that this is not altogether accurate.  Fanzilla actually predates Momzilla by a good decade or so.  It's sort of like Star Wars.  We all met Episode IV first, but Episode I actually started it all.

Fanzilla hearkens back to the good 'ol days when the Winter Olympics were broadcast more completely (and in their full glory on Canadian TV), and when there were still televisions with dials and antennae that benefited from artful decoration with aluminum foil to enhance the snow...er...reception.  Fanzilla fondly recalls the 1994 Olympics, viewed largely from the corner of College and Elm in New Haven, when short track speed skating and doubles luge were almost as entertaining as Fanzilla's beloved figure skating, and Alberto Tomba's thighs were right up there with Brian Boitano's.

Fanzilla remembers when Bolero was a masterpiece, and not the beginning of the end for Michelle.  Fanzilla was there when Dick Button wasn't quite so blotchy.  Fanzilla loved Philippe Candeloro.  Fanzilla knew that Lloyd Eisler was a nutball about a dozen piercings ago.

So welcome Fanzilla, who will provide honest, insightful, and delightfully scathing commentary on the fact and fiction of our noble sport - past, present, and future.

And nothing goes better with a screenful of Fanzilla than a mouthful (okay - maybe just one at a time) of Embittermints.  So minty, so mean...you said it!  Check out the link and make a habit of it...a little Fanzilla, an Embittermint -- you've got yourself a great day.