A Love Letter
Sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a love affair.
I'd say it started somewhere in the mid-90s. In no way was this love at first sight. My interest was simply piqued. A glance here, a laugh there. As the years flew by, the more I gave myself to the relationship the harder I fell, the deeper I fell, in love.
Entertainment Weekly and I have been going on strong for a healthy ten years now. Those who label it as another "mass-market mag" should be pitied for their lack of open-mindedness. They don't know anything about the pleasure EW brings me. Every week I revel in the joy of ravaging its pages from cover to cover and absorbing new pop wonders previously unfathomable to me.
EW satiates my hunger for pop culture news like nothing else can. It has changed me, especially my writing, prompting my own readers to urge me to land a job at the publication. Oh, how I long to be an official member of the EW family!
So, why not a love letter to EW (or to those editors and writers who have shaped me into the pop culture connoisseur who blogs before you)? An ode to those keepers of the pop culture gates, the brave men and women who go out of their way to report "summer movie body counts" and just how many units the latest Rascal Flatts moved in its first week...
Ahem...
Dear EW,
To call this a love (fan?) letter is like calling "Veronica Mars" just another teen drama. My appreciation and respect for you and your contribution to society goes beyond adjectives.
I first met you in the early-to-mid 90s. I have memories of those early days when you featured something called a velociraptor on your cover promoting some "Jurassic" flick. I remember your transition from a lower case "e" to a large-and-in-charge upper case "E". I recall being intrigued by an upcoming Alicia Silverstone starrer entitled "Clueless" while studying your Spring Movie Guide of 1995.
We normally see eye to eye on important issues: How vital "Ain't No Other Man" is for any Summer of '06 mix CD...Why we're adamant about "Battlestar Galactica" getting some frakkin' Emmy recognition...Who should be rightfully cast in that upcoming "Dallas" movie.
And then there are few times when we tend to butt heads on other topics: The polarizing aspects of "Little Miss Sunshine" (you say crap, I say gem)...The enjoyable stupidity of JoJo's "Leave (Get Out)"...the list is short.
EW, I feel that we are on the same wavelength. We can finish each other's sentences: "'Footballers' Wives'...blows those Wisteria women off the Astroturf!" We can predict what will happen in the universe (Ms. Witherspoon, meet Oscar). And together we feel the pain inflicted by poorly made decisions and prolonged absences from the spotlight (Where for art thou "Sports Night" and Rachel McAdams?).
Allow me to get a little Annie Wilkes on your ass: I own your pop culture quiz book. I auditioned for your VH1 World Series show. I save certain issues knowing they will be worth something...someday. I am not just a "number one fan." I am an imaginary freelancer who has tons of insight to offer and share with the pop culture-peckish public. Because let's face it: we need a little Hot Topics to blanket us from the harsh realities of this schizo world we live in.
I am you. You are me. Let's be daring, team up, and take over the world one Muggle at a time. Owen? Dalton? Lisa? Ken? You game?
Yours truly madly deeply,
Hiko Mitsuzuka
*References available upon request.
I'd say it started somewhere in the mid-90s. In no way was this love at first sight. My interest was simply piqued. A glance here, a laugh there. As the years flew by, the more I gave myself to the relationship the harder I fell, the deeper I fell, in love.
Entertainment Weekly and I have been going on strong for a healthy ten years now. Those who label it as another "mass-market mag" should be pitied for their lack of open-mindedness. They don't know anything about the pleasure EW brings me. Every week I revel in the joy of ravaging its pages from cover to cover and absorbing new pop wonders previously unfathomable to me.
EW satiates my hunger for pop culture news like nothing else can. It has changed me, especially my writing, prompting my own readers to urge me to land a job at the publication. Oh, how I long to be an official member of the EW family!
So, why not a love letter to EW (or to those editors and writers who have shaped me into the pop culture connoisseur who blogs before you)? An ode to those keepers of the pop culture gates, the brave men and women who go out of their way to report "summer movie body counts" and just how many units the latest Rascal Flatts moved in its first week...
Ahem...
Dear EW,
To call this a love (fan?) letter is like calling "Veronica Mars" just another teen drama. My appreciation and respect for you and your contribution to society goes beyond adjectives.
I first met you in the early-to-mid 90s. I have memories of those early days when you featured something called a velociraptor on your cover promoting some "Jurassic" flick. I remember your transition from a lower case "e" to a large-and-in-charge upper case "E". I recall being intrigued by an upcoming Alicia Silverstone starrer entitled "Clueless" while studying your Spring Movie Guide of 1995.
We normally see eye to eye on important issues: How vital "Ain't No Other Man" is for any Summer of '06 mix CD...Why we're adamant about "Battlestar Galactica" getting some frakkin' Emmy recognition...Who should be rightfully cast in that upcoming "Dallas" movie.
And then there are few times when we tend to butt heads on other topics: The polarizing aspects of "Little Miss Sunshine" (you say crap, I say gem)...The enjoyable stupidity of JoJo's "Leave (Get Out)"...the list is short.
EW, I feel that we are on the same wavelength. We can finish each other's sentences: "'Footballers' Wives'...blows those Wisteria women off the Astroturf!" We can predict what will happen in the universe (Ms. Witherspoon, meet Oscar). And together we feel the pain inflicted by poorly made decisions and prolonged absences from the spotlight (Where for art thou "Sports Night" and Rachel McAdams?).
Allow me to get a little Annie Wilkes on your ass: I own your pop culture quiz book. I auditioned for your VH1 World Series show. I save certain issues knowing they will be worth something...someday. I am not just a "number one fan." I am an imaginary freelancer who has tons of insight to offer and share with the pop culture-peckish public. Because let's face it: we need a little Hot Topics to blanket us from the harsh realities of this schizo world we live in.
I am you. You are me. Let's be daring, team up, and take over the world one Muggle at a time. Owen? Dalton? Lisa? Ken? You game?
Yours truly madly deeply,
Hiko Mitsuzuka
*References available upon request.
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