The Sound of Suffering

So I was feeling all smug about my kids' decent taste in music when a friend gave me some CDs he thought they might like. One of them was the soundtrack to "Camp Rock," Disney's attempt to create the next "High School Musical." It stars the Jonas Brothers (cue tween screaming here), who are taking over the world, one 9-year-old at a time. People without kids are only barely aware of them, but they're HUGE; trust me.

Anyway, our children looooove this CD. And I am in hell.

Our daughter wants to hear "We Rock" every morning on the way to preschool, and I swear I heard our son singing along, word for word, on four songs in a row. When their dad finally snapped on Sunday and ejected the CD, they were crestfallen. I almost felt bad for them. Almost.

It's not like my taste (Leif Garrett, anyone?) was all that sophisticated when I was 8, and the Jonas Brothers do seem like nice boys. Good for them. But Disney isn't done with this "Camp Rock" thing, and I can't shake the feeling that, having largely dodged the "HSM" and "Hannah Montana" bullets, my number is up.

Pray for me.

Best. News. Ever.

Holy crap. Shoe superstore DSW (Discount Shoe Warehouse) now offers online shopping! If you don't know, DSW is essentially a crack house for women who love shoes. It's one big room with nothing but rows and rows of discounted wares, ranging from the humble flip-flop to the designer stiletto.

Tallahassee doesn't have a physical DSW, so I get my fix during trips to Atlanta. When I walk through that door, time and space (and my family members) cease to exist. I'm a pretty easygoing gal, but you really don't want to get between me and the last pair of size 9.5 Jones New York slingbacks.

One caveat: DSW is not a place for the hardcore shoe snob (not that there's anything wrong with that). If you're like my sister, who can spot a Christian Louboutin knockoff at 100 paces, you'll likely leave empty-handed. Still, it's hard to beat DSW's prices. You just have to be willing to look.

While we're on this subject, can someone explain why the new Shoe Station in Killearn has such a disappointing selection? All that space, and nothing but dowdy grandma shoes, accursed mules and Crocs. I happen to love Crocs ... for my children.

'Trinity' Verdict: Meh

Producing a weekly comic has got to be an incredibly tough gig. That being said, D.C. has two more weeks to persuade me to keep buying "Trinity." I admire writer Kurt Busiek's work, and parts of Issue No. 1 — where Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman discuss mutual bad dreams over breakfast — were nicely done. It was funny to see Batman in Bruce Wayne mode, ordering a ridiculously complicated coffee. Issue No. 2 had a great scene where WW tells Superman that she'd rather kick the asses of some giant robots by herself. To be honest, little else left an impression.

I'll read 'em again to see if I've missed something, but if the storyline doesn't pick up soon, I'll spend the weekly $2.99 on complicated coffee drinks instead.

Hurts So Good

A friend's recent blog mention of the cinema classic "Glitter" got me thinking about the joys of truly bad movies. Not garden-variety bad, like Matthew McConaughey's rom-coms, but go-for-broke, career-defining bad. Think "Showgirls." One of my favorite things to do is watch the latter with like-minded friends and family members, a surprisingly small group.

When my sister and I took Mom to see the Tyler Perry opus "Diary of a Mad Black Woman," she didn't realize that we had different agendas. Mom's agenda was to enjoy the movie. Ours was to mock it. Repeatedly. While we were doubled over with laughter (and not at the parts Perry intended), Mom just shook her head and silently vowed never to go to the cineplex with us again.

My husband comes from a family of sincere people who don't revel in sarcasm and irony, so it took him a while to appreciate this particular hobby of mine. I'm happy to say that he is now fully corrupted, and we have watched many a howler together. In no particular order, here are a few certified classics that have provided loads of unintentional laughs over the years.

1. "You Got Served": A shirtless Omarion, practicing his dance moves in slow motion (in the rain!) puts Julia Stiles to shame.

2. "Imitation of Life": I know this movie about a light-skinned (black? biracial?) girl passing for white was daring in its day, but scenery has never been so thoroughly chewed. (Best line ever: "I'm white! WHITE!") OK, I still cry when the self-hating character throws herself on her mother's flower-strewn casket at the end, begging forgiveness.

3. "Stomp the Yard": I was in a sorority in college, and I've been in step shows. They're a blast, but there isn't much at stake other than bragging rights. According to "STY," stepping is a pathway to Fortune 500 careers and, ultimately, redemption. Who knew?

4. "Glitter": Almost every frame of this infamous Mariah Carey flick is gold. You know you're in for a treat when one of the characters is a DJ named Dice.

5. "Top Gun": First, there's the dialogue ("You're good, Maverick. Maybe too good."). Then, there's the cliched plot (He's a talented hotshot who doesn't play by the rules!). Look closely, and you can see Tom Cruise perfecting the acting tics he's used ever since to convey "intensity." Did I mention the dialogue? ("I'm holding on too tight. I've lost the edge.") Um, what?

6. "Crossroads": Back when she was still America's sweetheart, Britney Spears unleashed this coming-of-age film on an unsuspecting public. She isn't terrible, exactly, but almost everything else in this movie is. During the pivotal loss-of-virginity moment, the camera actually pans to a view of ocean waves. I'm still trying to figure out what Dan Aykroyd was doing in this movie, but a guy's gotta eat.

7. "Poison Ivy": I'm always gonna root for Drew Barrymore, even if she makes a crappy film. And this one, about a teen seductress who wreaks havoc on a friend's family, is trashtastic. The patriarch is played by poor Tom Skeritt, who was also in "Top Gun."

8. "The Last Dragon": I was 15 when this martial arts movie came out, and 99 percent of my interest in it was related to model/actor Taimak. How bad is it? The lead actress is onetime Prince protege Vanity, who, while gorgeous, is no Dame Judi Dench. Taimak's onscreen rival goes by the name Sho'nuff. Really.

9. "Gone With the Wind": Yes, it's a groundbreaking classic that changed American filmmaking. Yes, it's silly to judge a movie made in 1939 by 2008 standards. Yadda, yadda, yadda. GWTW is full of so much jaw-dropping wrongness that laughter is the only appropriate response. The scene where Scarlett and Rhett's bratty daughter bites it in a horse riding accident shouldn't be funny — but it is. And you gotta love the optimism of the newly freed slaves: "Forty acres and a mule? Gee!"

Make it a Blockbuster night.

Little Carrie Nations

Back in junior high, circa 1982, my 7th grade science class watched a (mandatory) harrowing film about the effects of drug and tobacco use. I'm talking close-ups of needle-infected arms and legs and gaping holes in throats. I was already a goody two-shoes, but that film — "Reefer Madness" for the Atari generation — gave me nightmares about going down the rabbit hole of illegal and carcinogenic substances. For reasons too complicated to get into here, I've never even been drunk.

However, I don't remember being as much of an anti-drug/tobacco/alcohol scold as my kids are turning out to be. Don't get me wrong; I'm glad the schools are strongly discouraging 6-year-olds from puffing and passing the Courvoisier. But my son and daughter become exceedingly purse-lipped when they see people smoking in public, or even when their own dad brings home a six pack. This is my 3-year-old's asssesment of nightclubs: "Grown-ups drink beer in there, and then they go to jail." She recently protested the presence of Corona Lights in the refrigerator, because "Daddy will get sick, and he will go to jail." When my son was a bit younger, he would point at smokers as if they had two heads (a habit that has since been nipped in the bud).

I have no idea where this hysterical attitude is coming from. We don't smoke, and our alcohol consumption is modest — so obviously, I don't want my kids to smoke or frequent keggers. But I also don't want them to be insufferable finger waggers who think a glass of wine is on par with, say, heroin. It's possible to make good choices without channeling Dana Carvey's church lady.

Except when it comes to decrying the presence of high fructose corn syrup in everything. I could rant about that for days.

I'm Just Asking

Did anyone think "The Love Guru" was going to be a good movie?

Two Reasons To Smile

It's generally been a crummy week, but it's about to get better. I just bought the 10th trade installment of the wonderful "Fables" series, plus Coldplay's (reportedly good) new CD. It's my reward for doing a fourth set of crunches this morning, since I'm no longer celebrating with cupcakes.

I've never, ever read a bad word about "Fables," a Vertigo comic that takes childhood fairy tales and stands them on their collective head. Coldplay is a different story. One of my favorite music critics, the Washington Post's J. Freedom du Lac, routinely mocks them — but he does it so well that I can't help but laugh. His review of "Viva La Vida" (which he kinda liked) made me spray my computer monitor with Coke Zero: "Missing — on purpose, presumably — are the sort of lush melodies and outsize hooks that helped make Coldplay a hit in dentists' offices worldwide."

That bit of finely crafted snark just gave me a third reason to smile today.