Get My Brother on Glee!

As I've mentioned before on this blog, I used to be in show choir. My high school experience was a real-life version of Glee, complete with cheesetastic dance routines, peppy pop songs, melodramatic showmances, and ruthless group politics. I was a far cry from Lea Michele's Rachel Berry, though—I didn't have her voice, drive, or confidence. (I did have an impossible crush on one of the cumberbund-clad boys in the group, but that's a post for another day. Like, the one that comes after never.) Brighter Side, for me, was just something to do that wasn't sports—a way to make friends and have fun, not a vehicle for stardom. I loved being in the group, but I'm much more comfortable in the audience than I ever was onstage. My little brother, on the other hand, is a born performer. So much so that even though he's four years younger than I am and we were never at the same school at the same time, I somehow spent much of my "theater career" in his shadow anyway. Everyone knew and loved Scott. At district-wide concerts, for example, revered upperclassmen fawned over him as if he were a celebrity, and in the days after, my own teachers approached me in class to tell me "what a joy it was to watch Scotty onstage." (To be fair, they usually made sure to throw a compliment my way, too, but in my angsty adolescent mind, it sounded like, "You were good, but your brother was great!")

At the time, I resented my brother for always stealing the spotlight. I didn't want it, but I did want to make some kind of a name for myself—and "Scott's sister" wasn't it. Only after I moved to New York and got my own life was I able to appreciate just how talented he really is. The first time I saw him in a starring role, as J. Pierrepont Finch in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, I cried. I barely even recognized the boy onstage—he was nimble, funny, self-assured, and completely mesmerizing. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. I've never been a big believer in destiny, but watching him that night, I had the sense that he was exactly where he was meant to be, doing exactly what he was meant to do.

After that, I flew home as often as I could to see him perform. I've logged countless miles traveling between JFK and LAX (thanks, Dad!), sometimes arriving the day of a show and then leaving the very next morning. It's exhausting, but every production—from Beauty and the Beast and Damn Yankees to Hamlet and Waiting for Godot—has been more than worth the 12-hour round-trip and recurring jet lag. I know I'm biased, but I honestly think Scott gets better each time I see him. And I'm not his only fan (though I would argue that I'm his biggest). Complete strangers seek him out after every performance to offer well-deserved praise, and industry insiders have repeatedly encouraged him to pursue his dream. Just last month, he was signed by a commercial agent, and last week, he was accepted into SpringboardNYC, an audition-only boot camp for college students looking to break into the business. He's been lucky, sure, but it's not luck that got him this far. It's talent, passion, hard work, and perseverance. It's faith. Strength of character. Courage.

I've never told my brother this, but I really look up to him. He's not only one of the most gifted people I know—he's also one of the bravest. In life or onstage, he goes all in, all the time. To be honest, I'm still a little jealous of him for that. But mostly I'm proud. And today I consider it an honor to hold the title of "Scott's sister."

So, without further ado, I present to you his Glee audition videos from MySpace. For those of you who don't know, the producers of Glee are holding an open casting call on the site to fill some of the new roles they're developing for Season 2. Wannabe Gleeks can throw their hats in the ring by submitting a song, along with a monologue explaining why they want to be on the show. My brother's entries, unsurprisingly, are awesome. Watch them below, and then go to myspace.com/gleeauditions to give him a gold star (or 20, if you're feeling generous). His personalized link doesn't work, but if you search for "Takeda," he's the only Scott listed. Let's get this guy on Glee!

Glee monologue

Glee | MySpace Video

Glee song

Glee | MySpace Video

TV New York vs. My New York

I moved to New York in 2002, at the height of the Carrie Bradshaw era. Sex and the City was in its fifth season, and everyone and their mothers—including me and mine—had been following Carrie and Co. all over Manhattan for the better part of four years, spellbound as much by her wild outfits as by her romantic trials and triumphs. I watched Carrie's exploits that year on a little TV in my dorm room, mere blocks from where she and her friends (Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda, for the uninitiated few of you who've been in comas for the last 10 years) lived out every budding fashionista's fiercest fantasies, complete with cosmos, Manolos, and a seemingly endless parade of eligible bachelors. Geographically, Carrie and I were practically neighbors. But in every other respect, we occupied different worlds entirely. Still, the show gave New York an even higher profile than it had before, and anytime I went back to California for a visit, I'd invariably run into someone from my high school who'd excitedly inquire about my new life in the Big Apple, no doubt expecting cable-worthy stories of late nights at velvet-roped clubs and electric encounters with handsome strangers. I hated to shatter their illusions (of both the city and my social life), but my New York was—is—nothing like that.

My New York is whiskey, straight-up, not something pink and fruity in a martini glass. It's a flowershop/bar in Brooklyn where you can buy a beer and a bouquet for 10 bucks, then head downstairs to the basement for a little jazz played to bearded hipster types on wooden benches. It's the view from the Q train on the Manhattan Bridge. A pale-blue Victorian house on a tree-lined street in a quiet neighborhood. An all-night diner where the waitress calls you "honey" and the TV is always set to Seinfeld reruns or TBS's movie and a makeover. The New York Philharmonic in Central Park. A superhero supply store that sells capes and cans of immortality. Rush hour on the 4/5 to Grand Central.  A table for eight at Dinosaur BBQ. Kayaking on the Hudson. Sunbathing on the Great Lawn.

I'm not generally a stickler for realism—as evidenced both by my affection for shows like Lost and Chuck and by, well, everything I've written thus far on my blog—but I feel the need to set the record straight regarding a few things about this much-fabled city I call home. Sit back, readers: I'm about to lay some truth on you.

TV NY: Anyone can afford a really awesome apartment in a nice Manhattan neighborhood—even people who spend all their time in coffeehouses and regularly throw down hundreds of dollars for shoes. (See: Friends, Sex and the City)
MY NY: Remember Monica and Rachel's (and, later, Monica and Chandler's) super-huge Greenwich Village two-bedroom flat on Friends? It's the Sasquatch of Manhattan real estate. As in: It doesn't exist. And even if it does, no one on that show—except maybe Joey during that month he was rolling in Days of Our Lives dollars—could have paid the rent on it. I mean, did any of them acually work? I know they had "jobs," but I swear they spent, like, 12 hours a day at Central Perk. In my New York, people have to at least pretend to earn their paychecks. And don't even get me started on Carrie Bradshaw's pretty little Upper East Side abode—no once-a-week newspaper columnist could afford that place (even it is rent-controlled) while also trotting around town in a new pair of $500 stilettos every week, dressing head-to-toe in labels, and frequenting all the hottest clubs and restaurants night after night. This city is expensive. It's worth it, but it's expensive. And if you want to live in something bigger than a bathroom and still have a swanky Manhattan address, it's going to cost you a lot of money, a couple of limbs, and, depending on the neighborhood, maybe your first-born son, too. Trust me—I've looked.

TV NY: Brooklyn is where dreams go to die. And Queens is where they're buried. (See: Sex and the City, Ugly Betty, Gossip Girl)
MY NY: Contrary to popular belief, "New York City" does not refer just to Manhattan. There are five—as in, the number of fingers on your hand or the number of people who read my blog (hi, guys!)—boroughs under the NYC umbrella, and they're all unique and great and important in different ways. Brooklyn, my home for the last three years, is not Dante's Seventh Circle of Hell, as SATC's Miranda or GG's Blair might have you believe. It's actually quite lovely. We have houses. And yards. And Target. And though I haven't spent much time in Queens, I have enjoyed the little I've seen of it (meaning the two blocks between the subway and the Astoria beer garden). I love the steady buzz of life in Manhattan, but I also love being able to walk away from it every once in a while. The outer boroughs are great for that. And there are far fewer tourists blocking the sidewalks.

TV NY: All women are either high-powered man-eaters who care only about getting ahead (see: Sex and the City, Cashmere Mafia, Ugly Betty) or Park Avenue princesses who care only about getting a husband (see: Sex and the City, Gossip Girl).
MY NY: Um, some of us are entry-level man-eaters, thank you very much.

TV NY: Magazine editors are prime targets for scandal-hungry gossip columnists and rabid paparazzi. (See: Ugly Betty, Cashmere Mafia, Lipstick Jungle)
MY NY: The sad truth is that the only people who care about print journalism are the people (like me) who have or want a job in print journalism. Vogue EIC Anna Wintour is moderately intriguing to some of the general public, thanks mostly to The Devil Wears Prada and The September Issue, but not even she generates the kind of feverish buzz that surrounds Betty's Wilhelmina or Jungle's Nico. When editors and the like do pop up on TV or in print, it's usually because they're promoting something, not because they've been spotted canoodling with a younger man (Nico) or because they were shot by the illegitimate son of their dead lover's ex-wife (Willi). And there's certainly no juicy TMZ-like cable show devoted to exposing industry goings-on (à la Fashion Buzz with Suzuki St. Pierre)—if there were, I doubt it would be must-see TV for even die-hard tabloid junkies. Oh, and on a related note, no one cares who or what the rich private-school kids on the Upper East Side are doing on a day-to-day basis. I'm looking at you, Gossip Girl. You know you love me. XOXO

Fictional Characters I Would Date, Part 2

See Part 1 for a housekeeping note regarding this post.

Captain Malcolm "Mal" Reynolds, Firefly
Truth? My reasons for including Mal on this list have less to do with the actual character than with the actor playing the character. Don't get me wrong—I like Mal. But I adore Nathan Fillion. He's got charisma and je ne sais quoi in spades. And the Captain is by far my favorite of his onscreen alter egos—Mal is brave, loyal, resilient, steadfast in his beliefs, and straight-forward about everything except his emotions, which is ideal for a commitment-phobe like myself. My only concern is the fact that he and his crew seem to find themselves in life-threatening situations pretty much wherever they go. But, you know, other than that, he's great.

Uncle Jesse, Full House
That hair, those eyes, this video...


Cappie, Greek
Cappie is Peter Pan, Van Wilder, and Zack Morris all rolled into one. He needs a baby-sitter, not a girlfriend. And yet...there's something about him that's just kind of irresistible. He reminds me a little of this guy I know/adore. (You know who you are.)

Pacey Witter, Dawson's Creek
Long before Edward and Jacob battled it out for Bella's affections in Stephenie Meyers' Twilight series, another rivalry divided the angsty adolescent masses in two. Leading the charge on one side was Dawson Leery, a self-proclaimed eternal optimist who fell for his longtime best friend, Josephine "Joey" Potter. His competitor in the quest for her heart was notorious screw-up Pacey Witter. It should have been an easy fight. But Pacey pulled off one of the greatest upsets in love-triangle history. For the record, though, I was always in his corner. I liked him even in Season 1, when he was fooling around with his English teacher and making a mess of everyone's lives. He's just so...charming, you know?

Dylan McKay, Beverly Hills, 90210
Dylan has a lot of strikes against him—alcoholism, drug addiction, a brief obsession with guns, a prostitute half-sister, a murdered wife whose mobster family ordered a hit on his embezzling ex-con father—but he's the kind of player who always comes through in a clutch. And in spite of all the bad in his life, he has more good in him than a lot of real people I know. Plus, that James Dean, rebel-without-a-cause thing he's got going on is, like, absurdly attractive.

Seth Cohen, The OC
Seth is the perfect combination of geek and chic. He likes anime and video games, has a plastic horse named Captain Oats, and watches IMAX nature films—but he also reads Kerouac, listens to indie music, and has his own comic book. (Some might file that last item under the "geek" column, but I think it's kind of awesome.) Plus, he's not cool enough to run game on a girl, but he's also not so socially inept that he can't carry on a decent conversation while, say, waiting in line for Death Cab tickets. Win.

Kirby Atwood, Lipstick Jungle
Robert Buckley is hot. Ergo, Kirby Atwood is hot. I don't usually start relationships based solely on physical attraction—I don't usually start relationships at all, actually—but I'd make an exception (on both counts) in this case.


Still to come: Fictional Characters I Would Date in Real Life, Parts 3 and On (it's an embarrassingly long list), plus A Few I Wouldn't Touch With a 10-Foot Pole

Tuned In: Starship

When I think about my childhood—which I do with increasing frequency every year, as it gets further and further away—I don't think about the big stuff. I don't think about birthday parties or first days of school or piano recitals or even family vacations to Disney World. I think about bubble baths in my grandmother's pink tub on Easter. The Mary Engelbreit dress my mom made for my fourth-grade book parade, the calculator I broke on a trip to Fedco. MorningStar sausage links for breakfast. Grilled-cheese sandwiches served on a purple plastic tray for lunch. White bows with puffy-painted Disney characters. Construction paper and crayons in my grandfather's study. The Cabbage Patch Kid I "made over" with colored sharpies.

I think about putting on rollerblading shows in my backyard and making my family buy tickets to see me perform. About going to work with my mom at six o'clock in the morning, eating hot dogs and chocolate malts at Dodgers games with my dad, reading books by flashlight after they'd both tucked me into bed at night. Dressing up in old Halloween costumes and using my hallway as a runway. Pretending to be a spy and taking notes on my little brother's daily activities. (Sample entry: "Scott is playing swords by himself. He looks dumb. Hahahahaha.")

Anytime I feel too old for my 25 years, which, lately, is often, those are the things, the moments, the memories, that I always come back to in my mind. Those, and this: sitting in the backseat of my mom's Mazda minivan on a road trip to Tahoe, windows rolled down, stereo turned up, the whole family singing along—yelling, really—to "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now." We must have played it three or four times in a row, my dad and brother taking over Mickey Thomas' part and my mom and I standing in for Grace Slick, our voices growing louder and more off-key with each encore. As a teenager, I was typically averse to so blatant a display of bonding, but for those few minutes, my self-consciousness evaporated and I existed only to sing that song. Such is the undefinable, undeniable magic of Starship.

Three nights ago, while watching the CW's Life Unexpected, I was reminded of that magic in a scene almost straight out of my childhood.

For those who've never seen it (which, based on the ratings, is most of you), here's a little background about the show: Life Unexpected is about Lux, a 16-year-old foster kid who tracks down her birth parents so she can get emancipated and instead ends up in their temporary joint custody. Cate, the mother, is a radio talk-show host in Portland who got pregnant in high school after a one-night stand with Baze, now the owner of a local bar. She's engaged to her co-host, Ryan. Each week, the four of them struggle to define their new, über-dysfunctional family, with varying degrees of success.

This week's obstacle on the road to domestic bliss was a family trip to find Cate's estranged father to invite him to her fast-approaching nuptials. Ryan, ever the faithful and doting fiancé, stayed behind to take care of last-minute wedding preparations, so Lux and Baze went along with Cate for moral support. It was their first big trip as a threesome. And it was basically a disaster. Cate and Baze fought, Baze and Lux fought, Cate and her epic failure of a dad fought—the high point of the whole thing was a brief detour to get corn dogs, and corn dogs should not be the high point of anything, in my opinion.

Enter, Starship.

When Baze turned up "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" on the drive home, I knew everything was going to be OK. Cate resisted at first, but her bad mood proved no match for the vocal stylings of Thomas and Slick. Soon enough, she, Baze, and Lux were belting out the lyrics in pseudo-harmony and waving their arms around in faux dramatic fashion.

Just like a real family.


Artist: Starship
Heard on: Life Unexpected
Sounds like: the '80s, duh
Listen to: "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now," "We Built This City" (No. 1 on VH1's list of the 40 Most Awesomely Bad Songs...Ever)

Test Your TV Trivia | Parade.com #5

Last Wednesday, I attended a fabulous New York party—the kind of party to which, as a kid growing up in a small town in Southern California (hi, Temple City!), I used to dream I would someday be invited. Stylish Manhattanites milled around me air-kissing over martinis, while professional photographers stood near the entrance waiting to capture shots of Dan Rather and Chuck Close. Delicate appetizers were passed through the crowd on trays carried by formally attired waiters. Champagne glasses clinked together in every corner. And all I could think about was getting home in time to see (spoiler alert) Phil's birthday on Modern Family and Gio's return to Ugly Betty. Thank goodness for Hulu. If I had had to choose between the party and TV, I might have missed out on almost spilling my drink on Parker Posey.

In addition to Modern Family and Ugly Betty, this week's quiz features questions on Dancing With the Stars, Grey's Anatomy, Fringe, Chuck, Bones, and more. If you'd like to see your favorite program in a future quiz, comment below and tune in next week to see if it made the cut. Until then, happy channel surfing!

Test Your TV Trivia | Parade.com