Flashback Friday: Monsoon’s Hoff to Summer Vacation Forecast (June 5, 2007) - Part Two
And now, the exciting conclusion to the previous post, in which I began explicating DH’s autobiography.
Self-congratulatory drivel about touching the future and his dedication to visiting/inspiring/curing sick children
David, King hoff Self-Promotion, never misses an opportunity to mention how his work as an actor and singer has meant the world to a sick child—or just children in general. Now, I was a kid when “Knight Rider” was on, and meeting him would have rocked my world. But his perceived power to change the lives of ailing youngsters is undeniably delusional and egocentric. He can seldom mention his trip to another city or country without noting a digression to a pediatric cancer ward or involvement in Race for Life or Make-a-Wish Foundation programs. To wit:
“Kids ran up to me and wrapped their arms around my legs and refused to let go. ‘KITT is like ET to children,’ I told one reporter. ‘He’s a source of non-stop love and affection – and a protector.’”
David of Nazareth was once riding in an elevator in Vancouver when he greeted a mother and her teenage daughter; the daughter began “freaking out” and days later, the Hoff of Perpetual Healing got a letter from the mother stating that her daughter had attempted suicide the very morning they’d seen him in the elevator, and that she vowed never to make such an attempt again “because I believe that he was sent to me for a reason.” He wraps this episode up neatly by proclaiming that “God does send angels and sometimes we are his angels.”
While delivering wheelchairs to Vietnamese children as part of Wheels for Humanity: “We handed the chairs over to children suffering from cerebral palsy. It was a small thing for me to do, but it made a world of difference to the children. I loved making people happy. Life should be about love, about being happy.”
About the child who visited the “Knight Rider” set and initiated his commitment to sick children: “Randy, the boy who showed me that my true purpose in life wasn’t fame or money but helping less fortunate people, is still my wingman to this day.” Wingman? I think that means something different from what he thinks it means.
Reading over this section it occurs to me that I may be taking a slightly cynical view of DH’s charitable work. Perhaps so. But jeez, we get it already—you are a good guy who apparently never passed up an opportunity to spread your Hoffing Light across the globe…
An alarming number of instances in which he denies being homosexual, seems to inadvertently arouse suspicion that he is gay, or comments on the homosexuality of another
The sheer volume and virulence of David’s insistences that he is not gay, and dalliances with gay individuals, falls into the category of “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”
On his sensitivity: “My daughters are always saying, ‘Dad, are you gay?’ I say, ‘No, why?’ They say, ‘You cry at everything.’ It’s true: I cry at game shows. A new car? – I break down.” He later defends his emotional demonstrativeness when discussing the fact that he got misty-eyed in the audience of the American Idol 5 finale: “Why is it regarded as a sign of weakness in America for a heterosexual male to cry? If you’ve ever seen the final of soccer’s World Cup, you’ve seen grown men sob like babies because they’ve lost—and you’ve seen the other side crying tears of joy because they’ve won. It’s a perfectly natural reaction and I’m not ashamed of it at all.”
When he saw his girlfriend after having been away at college: “Next time I came back to Chicago I had grown a moustache and had an Afro haircut. Sandy, who had gone to a very conservative university, thought I was either gay or out of my mind on drugs. I was neither – I had just turned into a long-haired thespian who loved blacks, greasers and hippies.” It’s unclear whether by “greasers” he means 1950s street gangs or he is using a derogatory term for Mexicans; neither would particularly surprise me. Whatever the case, you don’t get much better than that for ridiculous statements.
Soon thereafter: “I traveled to Manhattan and stayed with an actor friend who was pursuing his dreams on Broadway. On my first night, he informed me that he was gay and took me to a gay bar, the Pickle Barrel, to meet his buddies.”
Der Ladykiller and his friend Buddy were in New Zealand boogieing the night away: “Buddy and I went off to a nightclub and were having a few drinks when a good-looking girl started flirting with me. Buddy pulled me to one side. ‘David, it’s a guy.’ ‘She’s really cute, Buddy.’ ‘David, it’s a guy.’ ‘No, it’s not a guy.’ ‘Yes it is, David, look at her shoes.’ I looked down and said to Buddy, ‘Get me out of here!’ ‘She’ was wearing open-toed shoes which revealed big thick masculine toes.”
Poor, luckless Buddy had another brush with mistaken identity when an amorous kangaroo thought he saw the look of love in Buddy’s eyes during a trip to a Sydney zoo: “The kangaroo had taken a fancy to him and before he could duck out of the way, it got up on its hind legs, placed its paws on his shoulders and started making sexual advances to him. I dragged the roo’s claws off Buddy, but the beast had got so excited that he sprayed sperm all over him. He became known as ‘the Gay Roo’ and Buddy turned seven shades of red.” I wonder at least two things after reading this: first, given the unclear use of pronouns in the second and third sentences, it is unclear which “beast” was doing the spraying, and which became known as the Gay Roo; second, considering the fairly tactless nature of his description, I can only imagine what the first draft of this little anecdote sounded like!
Finally, there is his longtime friendship with the fabulously, flagrantly flamboyant pianist Liberace – not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Bold actions, funny situations, and embarrassing moments, some of which involve his singing career
As a young teenager, Hornyhoff finds that he finds the strangest situations arousing: “In church, I became aroused every time I kneeled down prior to taking communion. It was incredibly embarrassing. I wore long blue pants, shirt and tie and I’d try to arrange my clothing so no one noticed. Luckily, this only lasted for a short time, but I missed a lot of communions.” Now…why would you decide to put this in your autobiography? It’s more creepy and inappropriate than it is amusing and endearing!
Davey Boy relates some close calls: once, he invited a young lover to move into his San Fernando Valley home and he woke up one morning with her perched above him with a knife, saying “I could have killed you in your sleep.”
He relates tales of his great stardom abroad, his first concert tour in which he emerged from backstage in a KITT replica, and of course the American Pay-Per-View concert that was foiled by the O.J. Simpson Bronco chase: “The slow-speed chase was the most widely watched event in American television history, bigger even than the Moon landing. O.J. got 90 million viewers. I got 30,000. I had paid and nobody viewed. It cost us $1.5 million.” In my more honest moments, I think it’s rather quaint that he thinks the O.J. chase was the sole reason he didn’t hit it big with his Pay-Per-View special. His vocal chops are, however, vetted by a professional vocal coach: “My voice coach [for Jekyll and Hyde] was Trish McCaffrey, who had coached many Metropolitan Opera artists. Trish told me I was a born singer who, had I been classically trained, would have made a great opera singer.” By the same token, I, Monsoon, would have been a great basketball player, had I been taller and been gifted with athletic ability, quickness, and court vision.
The context of the following quote is irrelevant; just enjoy its linguistic poetry and the tragically inescapable imagery: “Next morning, with my wiener dogs in tow, I walked down the drive of my home in my underpants to get the newspapers. I picked up Variety magazine and read that Susan Lynne had been surprisingly fired after the read-through of News to Me. I looked down at my wiener dogs and said, ‘This isn’t a good sign.’”
The Hoff wrestles a 25-foot-long eel for an episode of “Baywatch.” He finds himself at a cock fight in the Philippines, inadvertently bidding on the action when he waves at spectators whom he believes to be fans. Tussles with Brandy on the set of “America’s Got Talent” when he professes to hate rap music. Nearly comes to blows on the same show when Piers Morgan “made an offensive joke about my singing. I told him, ‘You don’t want to do that again.’”
Name-dropping to associate himself with those whose wealth, fame, and/or talent eclipse his own
Name-dropping is a favorite pastime of the insecure and the grandiose, and it would appear that Mr. Hasselhoff qualifies in both respects. Paula Abdul and Sandra Bullock were both rejected for the role of C.J. Parker on “Baywatch” that eventually went to Pam Anderson. Hobnobbed with Russell Crowe in South Africa, where the latter was making Gladiator. Was slapped during a scene by Telly Savalas, who was seeking to teach the Hoff the importance of listening to another actor. Leonardo DiCaprio, who was turned down for the role of Mitch’s son on “Baywatch.” The Clintons. Lou Rawls. Nancy Reagan. Muhammad Ali, who greeted him with “You’re pretty Knight Rider, but you’re not as pretty as me.”
I have saved what I feel are two of the most baffling, memorable, goofy—Hoffabulous, in other words—passages in the book for last. First is his description of a role he played in between “Knight Rider” seasons opposite Joan Collins, whom he had heard was an egomaniac who demanded the sexual attentions of her male co-stars. The made-for-television film was called The Cartier Affair, and in the film, they are lovers. Take it away, Cyrano:
“The only way I could overcome my nervousness was to go on the offensive. I knocked on her dressing-room door and walked in, carrying a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses. I slammed the champagne down and said: ‘I hear you’re a bitch but I love your work and I respect you and I’m terrified.’ She just roared. ‘Oh, I like you!’ she said. ‘Sit down and pop that cork.’”
And finally—His Royal Pomposity claims that Princess Diana flirted with him during a meeting in 1993: “‘You look good with your clothes on,’ she said to me. ‘And so do you,’ I replied. Diana laughed, blushed and then looked coy. It wasn’t my imagination – she was flirting with me. … Then she introduced me and I walked on stage. ‘Do I curtsy or kiss you?’ ‘Do whatever you want.’ So I gave her a big kiss. She smiled and blushed and sat to one side with her hands on her knees and a pert look on her face. The Princess was perspiring, her bosom heaving with desire, as she sat like a sex-crazed leopard watching my speech hungrily from the edge of the stage.” OK—I wrote the last sentence. But the rest of it is all Hoff.
My friends, thank you for indulging my prattlings and twaddlings for yet another year. Have a safe and happy summer vacation. Remember—if you’re heading on a trip and want the straight dope on what to pack, drop me a line in advance and I’ll try to give you some idea of what to expect!
Flashback Friday: Monsoon’s Hoff to Summer Vacation Forecast (June 5, 2007) - Part One
And now that the forecast is out of the way, let me get to the real man-meat of my forecast: it is time for me to deconstruct, explicate, summarize, excerpt, and gushingly review the David Hasselhoff book, Don’t Hassel the Hoff: The Autobiography (released in Europe as Making Waves).
Sir Beefcake of Hasselhovia is gearing up for a second season of “America’s Got Talent,” which boasts two new cast members: Sharon Osbourne replaces the witless Brandy from last season; and Jerry Springer replaces the genial but stiff Regis Philbin. The show is bound to be screamingly awful—but it might just be awful enough that it veers into the realm of watchability…
About the autobiography, let me say this to begin: it was all I could have hoped it would be. In a sense, I’m doing you a favor here; I am going to tell you all you need to know about this book, saving each of you the $24.95 you would surely have spent on the tome yourselves. You are welcome. And, you can remit these funds to my attention at the high school.
BONUS CONTENT: This is an image of the Hasselhoff Homestead (what I call the place where Hoff grew up), at 3631 Kimble Rd. in Baltimore (right near the site of the old Memorial Stadium) taken by Monsoon in 2024. Yes, I went there. Incredibly, I did not have to fight my way through hordes of adoring fans gathered at the property.
The book is rather typical of any show-biz autobiography: it’s got details about producers and budgets and other production minutae that would put the average person to sleep; it’s got plenty of glossy photos of the star with co-stars and associates (Hoff as a child; Hoff’s parents; Hoff as Garthe Knight; Hoff with Simon Cowell; Hoff and Pam with the Clintons at the White House, etc.); droll recollections about growing up; struggles with alcohol abuse; and the like.
But the real “guts” of the work can be roughly split into seven categories:
Cliché (but seemingly profound) statements, trite platitudes, and idiotic turns of phrase
Sexist and ribald comments, claims of being a sex machine
Racist and borderline bigoted statements
Self-congratulatory drivel about touching the future and his dedication to visiting/inspiring/curing sick children
An alarming number of instances in which he denies being homosexual, seems to inadvertently arouse suspicion that he is gay, or comments on the homosexuality of another
Bold actions, funny situations, and embarrassing moments, some of which involve his singing career
Name-dropping to associate himself with those whose wealth, fame, and/or talent eclipse his own
I will tackle each category in a manner that seeks to both convey the sense of his statements in that regard, and maintains a conciseeness so as not to bore you all to death.
Cliché (but seemingly profound) statements, trite platitudes, and idiotic turns of phrase
“From the age of nine, I had blind faith that I was going to make it. I never doubted I would be a star. ‘Yes I can’ were the words I lived by then – and still live by today.”
About his father, Joe Hasselhoff: “He’s still my best friend, my mentor and my guide; to this day, we see each other or talk on the phone every day. His positive attitude and sense of humour have always seen me through rough times. He is The Man.” This was heartwarming until he called his dad “The Man.” That’s the best he could come up with?
“I was clued-up and had a certain amount of Southern charm that could get us into clubs and parties.” “Clued-up”? Clued-in, maybe, or hopped up?
“Catherine and I were beautiful California people living in a mansion in the Hollywood Hills with a pool, Jacuzzi, screening-room and four dogs and three parrots.”
Regarding the actor who played his son on “Baywatch”: “Jeremy Jackson got the part because of his every-boy innocence and because he was like the son I never had.”
On one page, he claims to have had a premonition before the San Francisco earthquake. Almost unthinkably, the earthquake still had the temerity to occur.
The admixture of understatement and the ridiculous in the following passage is intoxicating: “Baywatch might not have been the show Shakespeare would have written if he’d lived in Malibu, but we covered a third of the world’s surface – and the rest was water.”
“I was high up in the Wasatch Range of the Rocky Mountains, and as far as I could see there were peaks, some snow-covered, some green, some covered in mist. I cried out: ‘I get it. I get it.’ I was looking at my destiny.”
Arianna Hoffington claims that the majority of his supporters come from “red states” rather than “blue states” – say it ain’t so, Hoff!
He ends the book’s Epilogue in this way, and I swear I am not making this up: “As the song goes, ‘I’ve been looking for freedom, I’ve been looking so long …’ Now I’ve finally found it. I’ll see you around. I’ll be there somewhere, making waves. The best is yet to come … see you in Vegas.” He managed to squeeze in references to three of his songs, and plug his stint in Mel Brooks’ “The Producers” in Las Vegas in one closing, cliché-ridden paragraph. Astounding.
Sexist and ribald comments, claims of being a sex machine
This category is, as you might suspect, the most extensive of them all. Brace yourselves.
About “Baywatch”: “Every week we had a girl coming to work with a different breast size, or a different tattoo that had to be covered up, or a different personal crisis that had to be resolved. … I’d look out of my trailer when the assistant director shouted, ‘Rolling!’ and the girls would drop their towels and I’d go, ‘Thank you, God.’”
About a relationship early in his career: “It was a dramatic relationship, very wild and passionate. We were young and free and full of young hormones.”
The first time he laid eyes on his future first wife, Catherine Hickland: “At the Emmy party, about twenty guys were hitting on a beautiful blonde in a cowboy hat. She was a picture of lust – mine.”
One time he was on a plane that hit some turbulence; he was wearing pants with many zippers, and each one contained funds from a “Knight Rider” merchandising trip. “‘If this plane goes down,’ I told the girl sitting next to me on the flight back to Los Angeles, ‘and I don’t make it, grab my pants – it’s not what’s in the pants but what’s in the pockets that matters.’”
He was feeling sorry for himself after his first marriage ended: “Suddenly, I decided to go to a pet store and buy a wiener dog – I’d always wanted a wiener and I bought one. I brought him home and said, ‘Well, Wiener, it’s you and me against the world.’” Some jokes just make themselves.
About the opening sequence of the first episode of “Baywatch” ever aired: “After just five seconds … the first blonde appears on the screen and precisely three seconds later the camera lingers on the first cleavage in a close-up of a sunbathing bikini girl in a straw hat.” The first of many…
His first meeting with Pamela Bach, who would later become his second wife: “she was beautiful and, as she liked to say, ‘all girl.’”
Quoting himself from an interview that he gave at the height of “Baywatch’s” popularity: “Turn on MTV and you’ll see true garbage – Baywatch is kindergarten stuff compared with today’s music videos. Look at Madonna – she makes videos about getting laid in hotels and these are shown to twelve-year-old girls.” Shame!
At times, the Hoff seems to veer into feminist territory, making a statement or taking a stand that shockingly aligns him with the likes of Gloria Steinem or Andrea Dworkin. One such instance involves the Hoff standing up to his production partners: “I told my partners, ‘If I see another gratuitous shot of a girl’s crotch, I’m out of here. We don’t need that – there’s a way to shoot women without exploiting them.’” Several pages later, though, he seems to revert back to his knuckle-dragging, Neanderthal views of women, when he describes Pam Anderson’s screen test for “Baywatch”: “Pamela was wearing a halter top and skirt. When we asked her to read a page of the script, she stood up, stripped off her top and skirt to reveal a swimsuit underneath. The guys couldn’t take their eyes off her breasts because they were beautiful and they were real.” First of all, so much for evaluating an actor on her acting ability; second of all, as has been well-documented, no, they are not real!! He also refers to Pam as “Venus in Spandex” in one of his more memorable turns of phrase.
Several pages later, he seems to be back to his bra-burning self, as he describes Alexandra Paul, who was hired to play the role of Stephanie Holden, an old flame of Mitch Buchannon’s on “Baywatch”: “Built like a tall gazelle, she was an eco-warrior and an American triathlete. In a world of double-D cups, she was proud of her athleticism and the fact that she had small breasts.” I can only assume the “world” to which he’s referring here is the make-believe world of mammarical plenty known as “Baywatch.”
Soon, however, the Hoff Dawg is back as he recounts his performance and participation in the Miss Universe pageant one year in Australia (a reminder here that he was very much married at the time). One evening he filled his Rolls-Royce with contestants: “After a few cocktails, my companions suddenly changed from sweet little princesses into vixens whose one intention was to party and find men. We ended up in a bar called the Cauldron. … Later that night I decided to see how many countries I could visit. I visited Canada, then I visited South Africa. I told Miss South Africa that I’d be right back and headed off to see Miss Canada again. Unfortunately, I had some of Miss South Africa’s lipstick on my cheek and Miss Canada punched me out.”
Jayne Kennedy and David Hasselhoff host the 1985 Most Beautiful Girl in the World pageant, Sydney, Australia
The pièce de résistance in this category occurs when the Ambassador Hoff of Hirsutopia was jogging with President Clinton in a park: “So what did the President say to me while we were jogging in that park? He said, ‘Did you ever think Baywatch would be as big as this?’ I replied, ‘I never thought a President of the United States would utter the two syllables Baywatch.’ Bill Clinton liked Baywatch. Wonder why?”
Racist and borderline bigoted statements
This is one of the smaller categories, but it’s one of my favorites; those who know me well are aware of my connoisseurship of racism—racism and intolerance of a bold and forthright manner that are not often seen in these days of veiled and institutional bigotry cloaked in polite language.
He lived and enrolled in an acting school in Detroit, “a racially tense area.” “My abiding memory is how angry the blacks were with their lot in a white-dominated society.” “The blacks”? He might as well have said “Those people”!
On a trip to South Africa—which he’d undertaken in defiance of the UN sanctions against that country, which was still under Apartheid—he insisted on going to see Soweto for himself. “I said, ‘Get me five black armed guards – I’m definitely going.’” Once he reached the townships, he was struck by the humanity of the people. “Yet despite living in these disease-ridden slums, the people were beautifully dressed and were singing harmoniously as they set off for work. It was an inspiring sight. I realized this was where Motown began.” They’re enduring unimaginable poverty and oppression—but they’re happy! What a simple jackass.
On another trip to South Africa, this time to shoot a movie, he went “to a Zulu village in Natal to was a tribal dance” and became aware that some of the Zulus had seen him on the chief’s TV as Michael Knight: “As a gag, I looked down at my watch and shouted, ‘Hey KITT, come pick me up.’ In the middle of the dance, every Zulu head swiveled to the right to see if the Knight Rider car was coming. I laughed and laughed.” Those gullible natives! A similar scene is recounted when Hoff is on safari with his family in Kenya, and he keeps pestering the Masai about whether they have ever heard of him.
In at least one instance, though—as with the quasi-feminist dabblings noted above—he seems sympathetic to the complaints of Greg-Alan Williams, the lone black actor on “Baywatch,” who “complained that we hired only blond, blue-eyed Aryans so that European viewers would identify with the show.” His response was to add Traci Bingham as the show’s first Black lifeguard, but he took no further steps to remedy the apparent racial disparity.
Part Two will be released shortly.
David Hasselhoff - True Survivor
I present the greatest thing ever in the history of the world.
Top ten greatest things ever go, in order:
- David Hasselhoff's "True Survivor" video
- air
- Shakespeare
- water
- The movie Road House
- fire
- dirt
- "The Rockford Files"
- lemon Jolly Ranchers
- a burger from the Lancaster Brewing Company
Here is the video. If you do not watch it, you are depriving yourself of glory.
Hasselhoff - en svensk talkshow
That means "Hasselhoff - a Swedish talk show." In a truly inexplicable development, and one about which I'm not entirely sure how to feel, David Hasselhoff is hosting a late night talk show in Sweden. It premiered today.
The show is filmed in Sweden. Its ads are in Swedish. On the show, Hasselhoff interviews Swedish celebrities. And the whole show is conducted in English. Hasselhoff does not speak Swedish, except in a few crowd-pleasing phrases he's picked up. He has a house band, called Emma and the Hoff-beats. Emma is a skinny little miniskirted bit of Swedish sex appeal who plays the saxophone and engages in awkward banter with The Hoff.
In the first several minutes, he makes several Baywatch and Knight Rider references (both visual and verbal), speaks of himself in the third person, and deeply insults the entire nation of Sweden. Here is an intro called “Snow Watch”:
It is almost futile to go on with the weather (or, indeed, with one's daily life) in light of this seismic development. But:
A few flurries and/or light snow showers on Tuesday, late morning and early afternoon. Amounts to nothing. Breezy with clouds dominating the brave, o'er-hanging firmament. High 32, low 21.
Light snow possible on Wednesday, anytime between 1am and noon. Accumulation of an inch or two at most. Cold day with high of 28 and a low of 8.
Wait. Am I on glue, or does David Hasselhoff now have his own Swedish talk show? He does. OK.
That's Laila, a Swedish celebrity, there on the right. And the Hoff. The name in lights is neat, but I noticed that when he sits down to interview a Swedish celebrity, the camera shows only a portion of the backdrop, and it reads ASS. Not quite well-thought-out, maybe.
School issues:
Chance of delay Wednesday, 21%
Chance of cancellation Wednesday, 4%
Chance of early dismissal Wednesday, 1.923%
Thursday will be cold again. More sunshine, but still cold. Hey, Mother Nature, are you aware that it's a few days until the end of February? Because damn. High 31, low 8.
Friday will be even colder. High of only 26. Son of a brrr.
Saturday brings another chance for some snow. Just some snow showers, though. High 33.
Sunday looks sunny and cold. High 34.
Monday, March 3rd brings snow. This looks like a surer bet, but it's almost a full week away, so we'll see what it looks like by the end of this week. But probably snow.
Cold the rest of the week, too. Below normal, for sure. Another snowstorm on March 10th? Can't be. Might be, though. May be.
Stay tuned for updates!
Monsoon makes Hasselhoff discovery
My good people,
First, let me say that I realize the recent dramatic uptick in Hasselhovian content on my weblog may have been a little much to take--particularly as my latest Hoff post provided a nearly unfiltered gaze into the fantastical (and fanatical) workings of my mind.
And yet, I beg your indulgence for one more moment or two.
For in my internet travels, I discovered a six-part reality/documentary series called "Meet the Hasselhoffs" which ran on Britain's Living channel beginning in September 2009. In the series, David and his Hoffspring (daughters Hayley and Taylor-Ann) travelled to England and pal around with popular British disc jockey Scott Mills, who takes them on all sorts of wild adventures.
It's all you could hope or want from such a show, and it provides a sort of preview of what we can expect from the upcoming A&E Hoff-centered reality show. Episode 1, Part 1 appears embedded below; the further segments can be found in the related video sidebar at the YouTube page.
Hasselhoff to star in new television show; Monsoon on tenterhooks
It’s been some time since I’ve mentioned the World’s Greatest Entertainer in this space—in fact, I had to go back to my pre-blogging days (when I used to send out my ramblings via email newsletter) to find any sustained discussion of this man. Well, it’s about damned time I brought you the latest about this living legend.
I am talking, of course, about David Michael Hasselhoff.
I’m not sure why it’s been so long since I have done a Hoff-focused piece. Maybe it was the video of his drunk, incoherent, and shirtless self, seated on the floor of a hotel room, trying in pathetic vain (and with plainly impaired dexterity) to consume a burger—a video shot by his daughter and reportedly released by his ex-wife—that kept me mum.
A still frame from the video in question; despite appearances, I SWEAR TO YOU that burger is going in and not coming up.
Maybe I was moved to silence by his several-season stint on the putrid, overblown NBC summer freakfest “American’s Got Talent”—which could not even by redeemed by his élan, his witticisms, or The Hoff’s annual live performance which would be the highlight of each season finale. (Here's a video clip of last year's performance.)
But, friends, Der Hasselhunk is about to break out the box—in a big way. He is poised to, once again, take his rightful place atop the entertainment throne.
Two weeks ago, Sir David, Knight of Hard Bodies announced that he was leaving “America’s Got Talent” in order to “be able to follow my dream to do my own TV show, which will be announced very shortly,” as he told the grey lady of gossip rags, People Magazine. “AGT” has already hired the wanky baldster Howie Mandel, formerly of the dimwitted game show “Deal or No Deal,” as Hasselhoff’s replacement.
[Tongues were wagging straight away in speculation that Hasselhott was actually fired from “AGT” for being drunk on the job, and these naysayers pointed to recent struggles he’s had with alcoholism as proof. Why else, the thinking goes, would he quit a top-ranked summer show at the height of its popularity? But of his three hospitalizations last year purportedly for alcohol poisoning—in May, September, and November 2009—only one was verifiably tied to his drinking.]
I reject this wanton conjecture, this scurrilous scandalmongering, my good people, and choose instead to focus on the future: David Hasselhoff will soon be on the TEE-vee in his very own show. It got me to thinking…what might this show be? Or is it still in development? Or is he entertaining several competing offers?
I hereby breathlessly offer here my top pitches for Hasselhovian television programming:
“Hoff the Cuff.” In the tradition of “Shatner’s Raw Nerve” on the Biography Channel starring the “Star Trek” and “Private Practice” star, this series will feature awkward, one-on-one conversations between the Hasselhost and his celebrity subject. Suggestions for interview subjects include Luke Perry, Neil Diamond, Kiefer Sutherland, and Stephen Hawking. (You see, given his egomania, it’s important to find guests with whom Hasselhoff can bond over a common trait or experience. In the above list, it’s having perfect hair; gaining wild popularity as a musician and international sex symbol; starring in a number-one action-adventure series; and employing a staggering intelligence to probe the mysteries of theoretical cosmology and spatial relativity.)
A remake, or more accurately a continuation, of the show “Baywatch Nights.” This criminally underrated series spun the Mitch Buchannon “Baywatch” lifeguard by day into a private detective by night. It co-starred Angie Harmon, Lou Rawls, and Gregalan Williams and was really rather good. The show sought to embody the casual sensibilities of the greatest detective show ever (“The Rockford Files”) in an L.A.-after-dark milieu. They could even bring back Angie Harmon (even though she’s a Republican who had publicly said she’d support Sarah Palin for President in 2012) and Gregalan Williams, though Lou Rawls has been unavailable since his death in 2006.
“Get it Hoff your Chest.” A double pun here in the title, since Hunk-o-hoff is renowned for his barrel chest, his rock-hard pecs, and the lustrous fur that adorns his torso. This is a talk show—which may seem like a step backward for Hasselhoff, but it comes with a twist: anyone willing to come on the show and confess to a betrayal or outright crime on-air will be eligible to win a prize. The David will employ his trademark tact and sensitivity to shepherd the guests through the resultant emotional minefield.
“Show Hoff.” Ordinary people are invited on to show the extraordinary things they can do: play “Yankee Doodle” on a nostril flute; stilt-walk through an out-of-control bonfire; perform an eye operation blindfolded and only using one’s feet; perform a flawless rendition of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 using only flatulent and eructative emanations. It’s kind of a cross between “The Gong Show,” “That’s Incredible!” and “America’s Got Talent,” except “Show Hoff” would have the good sense not to cheapen the word “talent” by applying it to a family of Irish dancers (or more impressively, would not even allow said dancers through the stage door).
“Piss Hoff!” On BBC. It’s a hidden camera show, hosted and orchestrated by Hasselhoff, on which the marks can earn money and prizes by keeping their cool in the face of pranksters and provocateurs. Kind of a cross between “Punk’d” and MTV’s “Boiling Points.”
“Hoff by That Much.” It’s a sitcom, which is the one performance genre Hasselhoff has yet to conquer. In this series—about a divorced, 40-something (he can pass for it!) dad raising six troubled foster kids on his own—David will display a razor-sharp sense of comedic timing and earn near-universal praise for his chops. Liam Neeson will stun Hollywood by accepting the role of Hoff’s zany, eccentric neighbor Herman; Lorraine Bracco shines as Hasselhoff’s tart-tongued ex-wife and (in a madcap twist) boss at the ad agency where he works.
Yet another spin-off (or here, spin-hoff?) of the CSI franchise. This one is called “CSI: Pasadena” and stars Hasselhoff as the lead investigator, Meshach Taylor (of “Designing Women” and Mannequin semi-fame) as his saucy partner, and Nancy McKeon (of “The Facts of Life” and subsequently, of made-for-television movies) as the sassy forensic lab technician and Hoff’s on-again-hoff-again love interest. I smell a hit!
A reality show in the vein of “Denise Richards: It’s Complicated” and “Being Bobby Brown” entitled “Don’t Hassel the Hoff.” (The title comes from a popular t-shirt featuring his moniker, which he co-opted for the American release of his autobiography back in 2006. The series will air on A&E or TV Land and will feature the dizzying day-to-day hi-jinks and manufactured crises that comprise his “real” life, plus a generous helping of his daughters (ages 19 and 17) as they embark on teen-pop careers, aided by their ultra-supportive dad. Possible alternate titles include “Hoff and Running,” “Hoff the Hook,” and the simple, yet elegant, “Hasselhoff.”
Of course, when he made his announcement, he very coyly failed to specify whether the show would be featured on American television. It could be that he’ll be the star of a new series to be aired where his genius is most appreciated: Germany. Of course, he’d have to pick up a little bit more of the language, but he’s got it in him. Here are some very real possibilities…
“Hoffnung.” This word—which bears an etymological kinship to its star’s moniker—literally means “Hope.” The David will host a one-hour series inspired by the likes of “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition” and the Make-a-Wish Foundation. In it, he will visit the moderately depressed and slightly challenged, easing their minor troubles by singing them songs and shadowing them for a week. Each participant gets an “I’m with the Hoff” t-shirt—in Germany, it might be rendered “Ich spaziergang mit den Hoff”—to commemorate the easing of his or her vague malaise or nagging toe-ache.
“Hoff Tanztastisch!” This word blends the verb tanzen (to dance) with the adjective fantasticsch (take a guess) to produce the delightful title of this song-and-dance variety show. Featuring guest comedians, actors, and entertainers from the bustling world of German show business, “Tanztastisch!” will contractually include at least two full-length performances by The Hoff—one auf Deutsch—and at least eight minutes of airtime picturing The Pecsational One with his tucked shirt unbuttoned to the navel, revealing his hairy chest.
“Der Hasselhoff Verschiedenartigkeitsspektakel.” This translates to “The Hasselhoff Variety Show” and is essentially an alternate title for the show described above.
“Haariges Hoffbrust mit den Glänzender Schönheit.” It’s a refinement of the variety hour, more pointedly sensual and more demographically specific. The title translates roughly to “Hairy Hoff-Chest with the Glistening Beauty” and will consist of nothing but a full hour of … what the title describes.
“Der Fall der Berliner Mauer.” This show, which translates to “The Fall of the Berlin Wall,” grows out of Hasselhoff’s own oft-repeated claims that he felled the Berlin Wall with his 1989 concert there. (The concert was actually right after the wall fell, but his single “Looking for Freedom” was at the top of the German charts at the time it came down. So clearly he has a claim.) Anywho, in this lighthearted homage twenty years on, David counsels troubled couples—one of whom grew up in West Berlin, one in East Berlin—and helps them tear down the wall of anger that divides them. It could work.
Breaking news, for those few of you who are actually still reading this: Last week it was announced that, in fact, David Hasselhoff will be starring in an as-yet-untitled new reality series on A&E which will follow his life and his daughters’ burgeoning pop careers. The series will begin airing sometime later in 2010.
I cannot wait.
Flashback: Monsoon Hasselhoff's "Looking for Freedom" Forecast
My good people...
In the description of this weblog, you have been promised "Forecasting, Minutae, Jibba-Jabba, and Hoffophilia." In the first two years of its existence, there has been a glut of the first three and a regrettable dearth of Hasselhovian content.
That is about to change.
In anticipation of a post currently in the works following the jouncing pecs of The Hoff's life and career, here is one of the first pieces in which I declared my strange love for Sir Chisel of Hairwicke. It's from April 25, 2005 and was disseminated via email, in the old-school fashion, years prior to this weblog's genesis. And it follows below, enhanced with weblinks.
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Monsoon Hasselhoff’s “Looking for Freedom” Forecast
Monday, 25 April 2005
The entertainment dynamo known simply as The Hoff was born David Michael Hasselhoff born July 17, 1952 in Baltimore, Maryland.
The Greatest Photo Ever Taken; foreground, L to R, Gary Coleman and David Hasselhoff; background, KITT
David Hasselhoff, of course, is a multifaceted, multitalented conquistador of stage, small screen, and song. His distinguished television career has been distinguished (so far) by three unforgettable roles: Dr. Snapper Foster on “The Young and the Restless” in the 1970s; Michael Knight (and a memorable turn as the goateed evil twin Garthe Knight) on “Knight Rider” in the 1980s; and Mitch Buchannon on “Baywatch” in the late 1980s to early 90s (Mitch was also spun off onto the underappreciated early-90s adventure drama “Baywatch Nights,” co-starring Gregalan Williams, Angie Harmon and Lou Rawls).
Hoff as Garthe Knight; Garthe once growled: “Michael Knight is a living, breathing insult to my existence.”
His theatre career has recently included roles in the American production of “Jekyll and Hyde” and a leading role in the London production of “Chicago.”
But it is The Hoff’s music career that truly sets him apart as a triple-threat and one of the seminal artists of our time. He busted onto the scene with 1985’s Night Rocker (“I am the night rocker; I wanna rock you in my song.”). He has since released more than a dozen albums in Germany, the only place his true greatness has been acknowledged. The David has achieved the popularity of a Michael Jackson or Tom Jones in Germany. Most recently he released David Hasselhoff Sings America in 2004 and The Night Before Christmas this past November.
From “Flying on the Wings of Tenderness”:
We’re flying on the wings of tenderness
Riding the rivers of gentleness
Into the garden of love we’ll flow and watch it grow together
We’ll build a castle out of honesty
Fill every room with the harmony
Seeing the world trough each other’s eyes
We’ll live our lives together…
In 1994 His Hoffness decided to make a run at the musical stardom that had so eluded him in his homeland. He released a self-titled American “debut” album and hooked up a sweet Pay-Per-View star-studded concert event.
Based on eyewitness accounts (and the opinion of the Hoff himself), he rocked. I mean—he rocked the house like the house had not theretofore been rocked. He left the stage, though, and members of his management team inexplicably wore long faces. “What gives? I rocked it hard,” intoned the breathless David, who had truly “left it all onstage.” It was then that he saw a television—tuned to the live O.J. Simpson white bronco chase. Alas, while the hirsute Hoffmeister was delivering a mind-blowing concert to signal his triumphant emergence onto the American music stage, America was watching a slow-speed chase that would kick off the “trial of the century”—and not his performance. Ach!
His Bemulleted Grace played “Looking for Freedom” at Berlin Wall, New Year’s Eve 1989, to celebrate its crumbling. Hasselhoff himself feels his popularity in Germany was instrumental in bringing down the Berlin Wall and ending the Cold War: “I find it a bit sad that there is no photo of my hanging on the walls in the Berlin Museum at Checkpoint Charlie.”
It was rumored that he was going to release a rap album with Ice-T, but these rumors, tantalizing though they were, proved to be false.
The Hoff once gushed about one of his wildly popular projects: “Beyond its entertainment value, ‘Baywatch’ has enriched and, in many cases, helped save lives. I'm looking forward to the opportunity to continue with a project which has had such a significance for so many.”
On a similar note, commenting on the monumental impact his worldwide stardom—nay, superstardom—has had on children: “There are many dying children out there whose last wish is to meet me.”
Regarding his cameo in the film Spongebob Squarepants: “I've gone from talking to a car to swimming with Pamela Anderson to starring with a sponge.” The David also had a cameo in the film Dodgeball as a German soccer coach.
And finally, in the following oft-repeated quote, The Buff One manages to cram an astounding four clichés into one statement: “Keep smiling! Believe in yourself and never give up; dreams will come true.” And indeed they have: In 1996, His Hairiness received a star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame.
One of Der Hoff’s most well-known and finely-crafted songs is the German language “Du”—a portion of which I have included (and translated) here for you all:
Du bist alles, was ich habe auf der welt,
Du bist alles, was ich will.
Du, du allein kannst mich versteh’n,
Du, du darfst nie mehr von mir geh’n.
Du, ich will dir etwas sagen
Was ich noch zu keinem anderen mädchen gesagt habe,
Ich hab’ dich lieb, ja ich hab’ dich lieb
Und ich will dich immer lieb haben
Immer, immer nur dich.
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You are all I have in this world,
You are all I want.
You! You alone can understand me,
You! You may never go away from me.
You…I will say something to you
That I have said to no other girl,
I love you; yes, I love you
And I will always love you
Always, always for only you.
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