This is Howawd CoSell, Speaking of Spoooohrtz
Most of my girlfriends dislike that I'm a big sports fan, especially football. What can I say? I come by it honestly. My dad was an athletic coach.

Why People Hate Hollywood
I'm currently writing screenplays. As a result I talk via internet numerous screenwriters, some wannabes, some produced. I also come across agents, production assistants, and support folks and readers.

Friday Night Lights, the NBC production based on the Bessinger novel of the same name, came up as a subject for discussion. Many of you already know the storyline: small town Texas high school football and the craziness that surrounds it.

I responded to a post which stated that it was a real tragedy that there was so little to do in small towns that people have to resort to putting their children through this hell, that it is viscous and wrong and it's akin to Jon Benet Ramsey's situation. No, I'm not kidding. Of course, what this twit was really trying to say was that Texas was the end of the earth and the idiots there were no better than Neanderthals, what with the football games, and how tragic it is when a child would ask "Daddy, does God love football?"

Well, I'll admit to not being too subtle. I think his calling me a slack jawed yokel was what may have put me over the edge. I mentioned his possible gonadal challenge--well, he did say he wasn't a football fan. I think I may have reminded him about being the last one chosen for basketball. It was wrong, I know, but he had it coming.

Finally, My Point
Much of what this gentleman comes on his natural creative make up. He's paid to look beneath. That the beauty of any great movie: its subtext. I appreciate the artful aspect of it as much as anyone.

However, all I could think about during this discussion was his tired, dismissive attitude of an entire group of people. And then to be called stupid because I tried to explain that his attitude cut off discussion because he refuses to grant respect to those of us who disagree.

He continued to call me an idiot. We left it at that.

My Dad, the Coach
I remember my dad saying he was a teacher first, a coach second. His job was to teach character which is the foundation of all games, indeed life. Without trust, you can't play.

If that is what Hollywood calls Neanderthal, I guess it will have to stand. Regardless of the excesses which can occur in any endeavor (soccer comes to mind, business, relationships), I'm struck by the genuine, overall disbelief from these Hwood types that normal people actually to think the way my dad had. Moreover, they accuse me of not telling the full truth, or worse, make cuts about traditional ideals and practices, which they say they suspect, are not true anyway, as if I were in a dream for the many years I lived this reality.

To compare parents of competent, excited, worthwhile football players to someone who supposedly exploited their daughter by forcing her to be involved in beauty contests is indicative of the huge chasm between Hwood's reality and yours and mine.

This cynical view of life coming from the left in Hollywood, thought smart or cool by fanboys and the old media, pushes traditionalists like me further away from their particular form of art. In fact, I'm hard pressed to further involve myself.

I'm amazed there are still good stories being told. There are, of course. They're just awfully hard to find. Meanwhile, Friday Night Lights is a fantastic pentimento of life in in a small town in Texas. I recommend it.

My answer to another Hollywood whack job, Michael Moore, and his pledge to us hapless Republicans is forthcoming.
http://www.latimes.com/news/printedition/asection/la-oe-moore17nov17,0,3842827.story

Thanks for the read.