dot.conor

Rest in peace...

carol (2004 - 2006)

the world got a little colder on the day that lorne michaels announced that horatio sanz, the veteran saturday night live player, would not be back for the 2006/2007 season.  gone will be uncle rick, the lead singer from the christmas song, elton john/gene shalit/rosie o'donnell impersonations.  but the most troubling fact with sanz's departure is we will no longer be blessed with carol.  the overweight, overly made up, over-the-top woman who somehow manages to make grown (good looking) men weak in the knees is now a thing of history.  no more blue eye shadow.  no more scotch with no ice.  gone are the days of hearing her nasally voice request a dunkin donuts coffee coolata...or somethin'.  sayonara the orgy safe words she constantly mispronounced; ta ta verizon phone costumes.  may we, the general public, forever think of you, carol, whenever we throw our backs out while trying to loofa our calves, whenever we want to have sex with a stranger, or whenever we want to scream out our name the way she so elegantly did.  "i'm conorrrrrrrrrrrrr" just doesn't have the same ring.  you'll be missed...terribly.

Check out...

the raconteurs

dot.conor correspondent martin was lucky enough to catch the raconteurs at roseland ballroom on tuesday night.  he filed this report:

"i pride myself on living on the pulse of popular music in all genres.  but i was humbled last night when i saw the jack white-led raconteurs at midtown's roseland.  i barely knew one of their songs.  the masses of fans swarming me belted out the band's songs and i sat there like an idiot.  but after their set, i not only wanted to learn every song of theirs, i had a newer respect for mr. white.  sure, i know the white stripes' stuff inside and out, but not until seeing him 30 feet away from me in a cowboy shirt and jeans, with a gibson strapped across his chest, did i truly appreciate the maestro that he is.  though the majority of the vocals were delivered from brendan benson (above, left) white's presence was always felt.  he's intense, yet subdued; melodic, yet chaotic.  he's this generation's dylan.  a bluegrass/country dude wrapped in punk's clothing, white's stage presence is very daltry/plant-like: a small guy controlling a big stage in a huge room.  the idea that he leads this band, though, is misleading.  all four main band members, even jack l., the bass player with the best head of conditioned hair i've ever seen, helps contribute to the show-running.  but no matter how many songs benson sung, or how many licks the bass player with the awesome butt-cut stole the show with, it was always white who shone the brightest.  even if he was in the background.  the guy plays the guitar like clapton, sings like a dying bird, but puts on a show like jagger.  good, good stuff."

Add to your iPod: "together" by the raconteurs

Loving...

rachel griffiths

it's true that those in hollywood take poetic license when naming their children, and subsequently take heat for it.  demi took flack with rumor; gwyneth with apple.  but rachel griffiths, the striking actress from the land down under, takes the cake with the naming of her son banjo.  but we forgive her, for that fact alone is not enough for us to not be obsessed with her.  the starlet lit up the big screen in "muriel's wedding" twelve years ago, and then wowed us as brenda on "six feet under."  she now takes the same grace and skill to her role as strong sister, sarah, on abc's new ensemble drama, "brothers & sisters."  in a show that also features calista flockhart, tom skerritt, sally field, patricia wettig, and balthazar getty, griffiths is the one we can't take our eyes off of.  not just a pretty face and an aussie who can pull off a west coast accent, griffiths is the real deal with enough pathos to overshadow norma rae and ally mcbeal in one fell swoop.  not an easy task, but she does it...very well.

Highly anticipating...

pinkberry

a mysterious sign popped up around the corner of the dot.conor offices a few weeks back announcing that a now-vacant lighting store will soon be home to a pinkberry.  although the fine print merely mentioned that pinkberry is a frozen yogurt joint, our senses were further perked upon reading about how pinkberry in los angeles is a phenomenon.  much like the sex and the city-inspired tasti-d-lite craze in new york some years back, pinkberry has taken the city of angels by storm.  the blogosphere has also taken notice, with perezhilton, eater, dailycandy, new york magazine, and even gayzofourlives waxing poetic on the new brand.  with the new store in chelsea opening a quarter block away from our offices, the dot.conor staff couldn't be happier.  so sayonara tasti-d-crap.  hello pinkberry; welcome to tha 'hood.

Tune into...

the view

yes, the view.  since the arrival of rosie o'donnell this season, the show that used to be watercooler fodder has become appointment television.  is it now the ground-breaking, all-women, girl power program that showrunner and co-owner barbara walters envisioned ten years ago?  hell no.  it's better: it's entertaining.  no longer taking itself so seriously, thanks in part to the departure of that wretched human being, star jones, the view is enjoying a renaissance and reveling in what it should have done from the get go: having fun.  does rosie talk too much?  yes.  does elisabeth ever know what she's talking about?  no.  is joy still crotchety?  of course, and that's why it's become so dvr-worthy.  these seemingly similar women are all very different, and until the fifth member of the team makes her debut sometime in early 2007, they have to sit at the same table and do what used to be the impossible: make us want to come back for more.  so far, so good, ladies.

Add to your iPod...

i don't trust myself (with loving you)

by john mayer

when john mayer exploded onto the mainstream radar screen six years ago, his sound was unique, but not unique enough.  though "no such thing" and "your body is a wonderland" are well-crafted songs, they fall too easily into the 'already digested' pile of songs that befall every new singer-songwriter.  now, some years, many albums, and multiple famous girlfriends later, john c. mayer returns with his best album ever: one that not only sounds more mature than his previous efforts, but also feels new - you may not have heard this stuff from him before.  and almost as slick as his greasy hair is "i don't trust myself (with loving you)."  the title alone is a far, far cry from that wonderland he sang about a lifetime ago, but the substance is still as genuine.  he sings, in his whispery-smooth baritone, "no, i'm not the man i used to be lately, see you met me at an interesting time.  and if my past is any sign of your future, you should be warned before i let you inside."  at least he's now warning potential bedmates of who he is before he swoons them with songs about their physiques.  this song, along with the rest of his latest release, are why humans have ears.  seriously.

It's time...

put away the shorts; fold up your beach chairs.  that's right: summer is over.  gone are the lazy days and nights featuring the scorching sun, rooftop cocktails, and flip flops with every outfit.  no more frivolous days off; sayonara 9pm sunsets.  do you feel that?  yep - a cold front is coming through.  hello, autumn (or fall, for the lower class)!  dead trees, early dark skies, dropping temperatures all await us as mother nature cruelly rips summer out from under our feet.

the only good news is, the staff of dot.conor is back from their much needed late-summer respite ready to dive into the world with their picks on what's hot, what's not, and everything in-between.  not only will the postings that you love and miss be back, but this autumn dot.conor will feature periodic op-ed pieces by the editor-in-chief of this very blog.

try and hold back the excitement.  please...