Bill Scurato – billbenbarker

“ Life is a mystery. Just accept it.” — Crosetti

Are you old enough to remember 1993?

I remember it well.

My daughters were in 11th grade, exploring the excruciating process of growing up.

We had a big year at our theatre, producing Assassins, Evita and The Music Man. I can’t imagine tackling such a demanding schedule now.

The Toronto Blue Jays repeated as World Series champions, becoming the first team outside the US border to win baseball’s highest prize.

William Jefferson Clinton was inaugurated as the 42nd President of The United State on January 20.

And on January 31, the Dallas Cowboys defeated the Buffalo Bills by a score of 52 to 17. The victory would begin a ’90’s dynasty for the Cowboys. The game also represented the third consecutive Super Bowl loss for the Bills, who would go on to lose a fourth the following year.

But this post is only incidentally connected to any of the above.

Following the presentation of the Vince Lombardi Trophy to Jerry Jones…and the celebration that followed, the NBC television network launched the debut of a new police drama….Homicide: Life on the Street. That show would have a profound impact on me which has continued to this day.

It was based on a book written by David Simon, Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets. In this book, Simon journaled his first hand experiences having been embedded with the Baltimore city police.

David Simon

Simon sent his book to film director and Baltimore native, Barry Levinson, in hopes it might be adapted to a motion picture. But Levinson thought the multiple aspects of the work might make it more suitable as a television drama. It portrayed police differently than television had previously rendered. Cops displayed character complications which might be intense, emotional or hysterically funny. Levinson sought the services of screenwriter Paul Attanasio to adapt the many characters in Simon’s book to a manageable series pilot episode

So on that Super Bowl evening in 1993, Attanasio’s creation (directed by Levinson) hit the airways. I remember watching and loving it that night, along with my wife Carolyn who was equally affected.

The series featured a strong ensemble cast, including:

Andre Braugher, as Detective Frank Pembleton, a brilliant but intense investigator.

Kyle Secor, as Detective Tim Bayliss, whose personal struggles added depth to the show.

Richard Belzer, as Detective John Munch, a sardonic detective who later became a mainstay on Law & Order: SVU

Yaphet Kotto, as Lieutenant Al Giardello, the head of the unit.

Clark Johnson, Melissa Leo, Daniel Baldwin, Ned Beatty, Jon Polito and many others also played key roles throughout the series.

Tom Fontana was the show-runner and chief writer throughout the program’s seven year run.

HLOTS addressed issues such as race, gender, mental health, and corruption, often without clear resolutions, emphasizing the ambiguity of justice. This was quite different from the usual cop show.

Much of Homicide was shot with hand-held, shaky cameras and faded colorings resulting in a gritty, realistic quality. It depicted real, human police detectives cracking jokes at gruesome murder scenes instead of solemnly vowing justice; serialized stories that arced over several episodes; and heart-rending killings that would got unsolved. It was a criminal justice program without gun battles or car chases. The show was filmed mostly on location in Baltimore. And I absolutely loved it.

DVDs of each season were released following the conclusion of the show’s run in 1999. I, of course, purchased all seven seasons. I have the episodes faithfully ripped to my Plex server and have watched and re-watched many times.

So, why was this prestigious police drama never made available for streaming? No one will really say, although it’s been hinted that clearing the music rights was a huge issue. Musicians! Grrr!

Well, say “hallelujah!” Because this past August, the Peacock service released Homicide: Life on the Street to its video subscribers. Now…..I have not been a Peacock patron. I am annoyed that so many different platforms have their hands out for my dinero every month. But….it’s Homicide….for crying out loud…..Homicide!!!. …in HD and with enhanced audio. C’mon! So last week I bit the bullet and subscribed. And, I’ve gotta say, so far, I’m glad I did. Although the reviews of the Peacock refresh have been decidedly mixed. (Image cropping has been criticized and much of the music we loved is gone (double grrr!) Still, I find it a wonderful gift. To me both the video and sound are fantastic. It’s like discovering the gang all over again.

Then I received yet another pleasant surprise. Would you believe there is not one, but two accompanying podcasts to the show? I’ve already experienced the aptly titled Homicide:Life on Repeat. It is hosted by Reed Diamond, who played Detective Mike Kellerman and Kyle Secor, who portrayed Detective Tim Baylis. Now, as you may know, I love to listen to podcasts. And, believe me….this is a good podcast. The hosts are personable and entertaining. They also bring great insider insights to the show. Yup….great!

A second podcast, Homicide: Life on the Set, is hosted by Susan C. Ingram and Chris Carr, lesser known entities but still eagerly anticipated.

So….if you were too young in the ’90’s or simply never got around to it, I highly recommend you check out Homicide: Life on the Street. And while you’re at it, why not give a listen to Homicide: Life on Repeat and/or Homicide: Life on the Set. You can find both podcasts on the YouTube or wherever you get your podcasts. Enjoy!

Season 02, Episode 10

November 21, 2024

Since the presidential election, I’ve been burrowed. Partly depression, of course. Disappointment…nausea…gut punch. Helplessness, really…hopelessness. I’m in my 70’s and another presidential election is in no way guaranteed. I’ve detached socially somewhat. Limited social media. Daily routine…realigned. No more CNN or MSNBC. I force myself to listen to one, and only one, NPR five minute news podcast per day. I can’t allow myself to fall into ignorance, but there is not much in the news that doesn’t make me physically ill. I’m trying to avoid anything and everything that might suggest a twinge of politics. So even reading is a hazard. In spite of my zeal for podcasts, I’ve deleted two-thirds of my feed. Only those that are tech, film or tv oriented have survived the cut. Gone are favorites like The Daily, This American Life and Pod Save America. I used to listen to the WFAN morning sports show. But even Boomer and Gio seem tainted…so click.

I know….head-in-sand is no solution. But my energy is zapped.

Instead, I’ve been watching a lot of Turner Classic Movies…great old films reflecting better times. But my highest satisfaction (a surprise, even to me)…. a deep dive into Ally McBeal. You might not remember Ally. She was a late 90’s creation of the TV writer/producer David E Kelly. The title character is a recent law school graduate launching her career in Boston. Essentially, it is a workplace comedy, which also addresses many serious issues. I identified with this show at its origin because both my daughters were in college at the time. I thought it reflected the hopes, dreams and challenges of young people approaching adult life. I related it to my own kids. I think the show also prompted me to reflect on the youthful steps and missteps of my own life. Over the years, I’ve rewatched the show many times. Of course, it’s dated in ways, but I still find the episodes hopeful. I think that’s what I need at the moment.

Season two, episode 10 Making Spirits Bright, is a Christmas episode. The festive backdrop contrasts the stark loneliness encountered by so many during the holidays. But to begin, there is hope. Law partner John Cage is confident he can secure a mistletoe kiss. Ally’s friend Renee holds the possibility of a happy life with her former lover Matt….even though he’s married with a pregnant wife. Ally, herself, continues to carry an eternal flame for Billy.

But perhaps the most challenging hope, comes in the firm’s seeking to save the job of client, Sheldon Maxwell. He has been dismissed because he told co-workers that he saw a unicorn. The company believes him to be crazy and potentially harmful to its customers. Maxwell and Ally share a mutual understanding as fellow unicorn seers.

Maxwell’s boss testifies that “seeing a unicorn” is a symptom of dementia.

Billy, in his summation, suggests that perhaps the vision of the unicorn may have indeed been an illusion, triggered by the commonality of loneliness during the holidays. “But….so what? Since the unicorn is a symbol of hope,” Billy wonders who amongst them should dictate where hope should be found.

Judge Whipper Cone agrees with Billy. Maxwell is reinstated.

But for Renee, Ally and even John Cage, the closing montage is a reminder that hope may need a little more time to materialize.

For me too.

Ally McBeal…all these years later… still a positive beacon.

Mom And Calder… 99 years to the day

Yesterday, August 16, 2023 would have been my mother’s 100th birthday. I know it may be an overused sentiment, but she was an inspiration to me.

She pushed me to be better than I was. No matter how blocked my academic success as a youth….she continually provided help and support for my improvement. Special tutoring in Algebra was well intended but not very successful. Poor Mr. Bishop (my high school teacher) showed me the solutions to problem after problem….to little avail. I’m sure he was as frustrated as my Mom. It literally did not compute….not to me. It was long before the time of differentiated learning and teaching styles. Traditional methods never worked for me. It really wasn’t until graduate school…graduate school… after serving 20 years as an educator, that I finally learned how to effectively learn. I recall Dr. Dukes, a professor at West Liberty State College, suggesting that “the best way to learn something is to teach it.” At the time, I regarded that notion as highly unlikely, but in my personal experience it was true. In the end, I think my mother was proud of my academic achievements….but oh, what a frustrating journey.

She went to bat for me (even when I would have preferred she hadn’t.) If she sensed any disparity being lodged toward me, be it in school or elsewhere, she didn’t hesitate to step forward and express her displeasure and insistence on rectification. My mother worked in the cafeteria at my school. She made it her business to know my business. Clearly, I didn’t particularly care for that dynamic. I was often embarrassed by it. Today I take shame in that fact. Her mission was to advocate for me…unconditionally. Again, her zealous…perhaps overzealous, interactions undoubtedly helped me find my way.

She nurtured my sense of creativity (whatever that means.) I was never an athlete, although I spent many years attempting to participate. From little league to high school wrestling, I lacked talent, desire and therefore any required work ethic. But music…that was another matter. I played the clarinet and saxophone. I wasn’t a very good musician either, but I enjoyed it. My mother was always an encouraging force in that regard. When I developed an interest in the theatre arts as a high school senior, she was again all-in. By the end of high school I had finally found something that I enjoyed and in which I seemed to possess a relative proficiency. It was also an area in which I understood and celebrated the challenging labors necessary for success.

Most of all though, my mother believed in me. In her eyes, I could do no wrong. My dear sister good-naturedly resented her overt favoritism. (Although Mom was totally devoted to my sister as well.) As an adult, perhaps my mother’s devotion might have encouraged in me a subconscious sense of infallibility. Certainly, I was not infallible and never thought as much. But I may have confidently, albeit misguidedly, proceeded at times in certain endeavors without adequate reflection. On the other hand, I credit my mother’s ultimate commitment to me as an important factor in any success I may have attained in my life. Of course, my wife and daughters were also huge contributors in that regard. Dad too.

The point is, people need help in this life. And I’ve been fortunate in having more than my share.

My mother was born 100 years ago….on August 16, 1923. My grandson, Calder, was born one year ago…on August 16, 2022… 99 years in between, to the day.

That dynamic is kind of mind blowing. Right? I’m ready to pay it forward. I’m here for you Calder!…As are your loving parents…As are so many others who care for you. And who knows?….Maybe in some dimension, with full throated enthusiasm, so is your great grandmother….my Mom.

Time In A Bottle

Remembering warmly my maternal grandparents today. They were married on this date in 1921. 96 years ago. They had three beautiful daughters, each of whom had wonderful families of their own. All three of their daughters have passed on. Their descendants continue to live productive and remarkable lives. My mother, Katherine, is on the far left in 1st photo and on the far right in the second photo. My guess is she is about nine years old here, which would date these pictures around around 1932. My grandparents are not together in these photos because they probably were taking the pictures of each other with their children. It’s interesting to speculate on the non-smiling faces displayed. I’ve noticed this seriousness on other photos of the era. I guess it wasn’t considered proper to smile. A far cry from the contemporary approach to family photos.