I Heart Roger Clark

Roger Clark: Half the Man He Used to Be

2007-06-01T14:57:00.000-07:00

It's been an embarassingly long time since I wrote about my favorite NY1 guy and that could be because (drum roll please)...Roger Clark is now officially H-O-T. You heard me right (and by You, I mean Me since I'm probably the only one who knows or cares that I've fired up the blog again). I don't know what the guy's been doing, lo these many months, but he is fit, tanned, and ready for ACTION. Yesterday he was in the boxing ring, going a few rounds with an old skooler. I found myself mesmerized. "Look at those gams!" I thought to myself. "Where's the belly?" I wondered. You'll only know it's Clark if you see him sporting dress shirts from his "I Was A Fat Guy Once" collection. The neck is about 6 sizes too big.

Roger Clark, you're dreamy...

I'm Back Like a Three Day Old Burrito

2007-01-02T19:04:00.000-08:00

Briefly, I feel I must note that Roger has been looking pretty damn good lately. Dare I say, hot?? Yes, our guy has cleaned up for 2007. He's fit, trim, be-suited, be-tied, and sporting some pretty awesome skin. I think I have a crush. Better yet, I'm taking full credit for the transformation. Rog, when GQ comes 'a' callin', remember me fondly. I will forever delude myself into thinking that it was the loving touch of I Heart Roger Clark that took the hot dog out of your hand, and put the cashmere coat on your back. I miss the goofy guy I knew and loved, but Hot Roger ain't too shabby. Pat Kiernan better hold on to his hairdo. In the Papers might have a new dude in town and his name is Clark. Roger Clark. Shaken and not stirred.

Me-ow.

The Way We Were

2006-12-23T10:53:00.000-08:00

Well folks, we've just about come to the end. I Heart Roger Clark will be going on an indefinite hiatus. I feel we've grown a little closer to the guy who made morning news riotously funny there for awhile. So here's to you, Roger Clark. May your polos always be brown and your giggle always be charming. Even though there have been a lot more suits and ties lately, don't get too serious on us, Big Guy. Local cable needs you. Like Cats, you are now and forever.

xo
Jen

Week of the Caroline/lyns

2006-12-14T08:17:00.000-08:00

So sorry I neglected to post the other day when Roger was getting his flirt on in Williamsburg with short-haired artist chickie Caroline Woolard whose primary claim to fame are stools that she blow-torches to street signs. Though Caroline's website -with its pretentious musings on "reclaiming public space for the public" - is annoying, I have to say I appreciate this creative gesture even if she is a hipster. Roger took a seat and pretended to fall asleep. I'm pretty sure Rog and Caroline are dating now (what wife?).

This morning, Rog chatted with Rep. Carolyn Mahoney - who is most definitely not a hipster and would only be considered a chickie in the parallel universe of my nightmares - who took the red-eye from Albany just to chat with Clark about the fact that important historical documents will be making an appearance at Federal Hall in Lower Manhattan. Rog was wearing a suit and seemed dumbstruck that anyone would have actually flown in at the crack of dawn to chat with him about this. I think he also secretly wished that this Carolyn was also secretly an artist with a blow-torch. Now that would have been a news story.

Roger to Cereal: Get in my belly

2006-12-07T06:39:00.000-08:00

Roger - dressed for the company holiday party - was at the Full Gospel Food Pantry today, admiring a box of organic fruity pebbles. While I too like to kid myself into believing that a cereal is healthy just because the box has cartoon characters of endangered species on it, I've learned my lesson. The "healthy" version of Cap'n Crunch or Crunch Berries are still gonna pack on the pounds. Trust me, Clark. My jeans are tight just thinking about it.

P.S. Pat K. and Rog have tapered back on their banter and Clark has taken assignments that only the biggest jacka** would dare poke fun at. Is it the fear of the poisoned blog barb? I sense a more serious Rog in the New Year. Say it ain't so.

P.P.S. Ok, so it turns out that not only is the cereal in question not organic, but its made by General Mills and is a marketing ploy for something called Neopets - "the greatest Virtual Pet Site on the Internet." This is incredible for a few reasons: One, there's a website where you can create your own pet. Whatever happened to mom and dad buying their kids a dog? Two, ok, how about a canary? Three, there's actually a cereal named after a site promoting imaginary pets. I wonder if this cereal has imaginary calories? If so, go on and eat all you want, Rog. And send me a box.

Roger Goes To Pretentious Land

2006-12-06T10:23:00.000-08:00

Roger was on the streets of SoHo today reporting on the cobblestone "problem" facing the residents there. Apparently, the antique stones - one of which Roger was holding at the beginning of the report until the weight of its vintage-ness became too much - are moving around (bad cobblestones!) and lots of folks have been getting their Prada heels caught during boutique runs. The shame of it all. Rest assured Over-priced Loft Owners, those messy streets (so hard to find good help nowadays) are being put back together properly just in time for the holiday season. You are free once more to pretend that you live in Europe.

Roger to Board of Health: Stop Your Playin'

2006-12-05T08:55:00.000-08:00

I've got to get off the crack or NY1 needs to stop giving Rog assignments that can be turned into silly headlines leaving our man wide open for the barbs of mean kids who come wielding electronic "Kick Me" notes. Case in point, this morning's Roger Report focussed on today's Board of Health meeting during which its members will vote on three things:

1. Banning trans fat: The government wants to get all up in your business

2. U Pick Yr Gender: The government says go ahead, get up in your own business.

3. Dogs, Their Leashes, and the People Who Hold Them: The government says that dogs can do their business, but only where it says so.

What an unfortunate trifecta of issues to have to get on a microphone and talk about. This is dinner theater at its very worst. In typical fashion, the man-on-the-street interviews also took a bizarre turn. My favorite was the older woman who - when asked for her feelings on the City's involvement in our food choices - responded "I've got oatmeal in my bag. I just want to know what I'm doing." So do we, honey.

Poor Rog - clad only in his barn jacket - looked extra sleepy today. Hopefully, he was able to get himself a nice trans fat-free doughnut and a warm cup of coffee to take the edge off.

Roger: Queen of the Desert

2006-12-04T09:53:00.000-08:00

I waited and waited and watched and had three refills of coffee and I somehow managed to miss Clark's report on the closing of Carmen's Place - a shelter for transgendered homeless youth - and all I want to know is how I could have been sitting on the couch, awake no less, for more than an hour and I never once saw our man. All I remember is Kefi Drexel and a ridiculously busty dietician whose sage advice on staying healthy in the wintertime pretty much extended to washing your hands. Genius. And for this I need a news segment?

On a more serious note, Carmen's Place is an amazing, wonderful resource and I had no idea it was shutting down. Kudos to Clark and NY1 for featuring this important story and not avoiding a topic that so many other stations might consider to be taboo. I'm really sorry I missed it.

Raindrops Keep Fallin' on Clark's Head

2006-12-01T14:29:00.000-08:00

But that doesn't mean his eyes will soon be turnin' red. Cryin's not for Rog. Cause he's never gonna stop the rain by complain'. Because he's freeeee. Nothing's worryin' Claaarrrkkk. (No time is a bad time for "The Fantasticks.")

Generally speaking, being able to work from or on the beach is a pretty cool gig. Unless you're Roger Clark. Poor Rog. Forced to stand out on the sands of Rockaway Beach and report on the veritable heat wave hitting NYC (in December) while the tornado-like winds whip up and the rain starts to fall. I didn't think I'd get to see the NY1 windbreaker/raincoat again this season (after the The Great Thanksgiving Balloon Inflation debacle) but sure enough there it was in all it's windbreaker glory. Overall, I think the best part of this morning's report was when the drizzle started hitting the camera lens in such a way that made Roger look like he was being covered with polka dots. It was like the universe was having a little fun at the expense of our guy who doesn't need any more ribbing between this blog, "the other" blog, and life (not to mention the occasional bad hot dog). On behalf of all five boroughs, thanks for never letting the news, the weather, the vendors, the kids, the balloons, the blogs, etc. get you down. You are the Energizer Bunny of morning news, Roger Clark, and I salute you.

Paradise Paved, Parking Lot Put Up

2006-11-30T06:33:00.000-08:00

From a Golf Course Ambassador to the NYC Taxi and Limousine Commissioner, this has been a banner week for Roger and the men who make this city great. Today's Roger Report featured Rog, looking sporty in late fall attire, chatting up the TLC Commissioner who looked like he might have fallen head first into a tube of hair gel this morning. Between that and the suit and tie pin, the guy was straddling a fine line between The Sopranos and Wall Street: The Movie. TLC Man gave Roger kudos for remembering the details of the recent fare hike which is kind of like saying thanks for reminding me that I will be kicking you in the a**. The thing is, I agree with the fare increase. Drivers need to earn a living wage and perhaps with a little more money coming in from individual rides, there won't be the same need to play chicken on the road to pick up a fare. As much as I appreciate a cab screeching through five lanes of traffic because I'm waving my hand in the air or repeatedly stomping on the brake at a red light in anticipation of dumping me on the corner and zipping off to find someone too drunk to drive themselves back to Connecticut, I've always sensed there was a better way.

P.S. Was that an L.L. Bean flannel-lined, barn jacket? LOVE it.

Don't Bogey My Birdy

2006-11-29T05:11:00.001-08:00

Roger does not play golf. This is according to The Man himself who was out on a course in Van Cortlandt park this misty, moisty morning. Things got off to a bumpy start when Rog accidentally bumped his mic cube and said "What am I doing here?" (presumably in reference to his handling of the mic and not his presence on the golf course) and then exchanged some awkward convo with Pat K. when Pat asked him about his game. Roger, in no uncertain terms, said that he doesn't play and then giggled (I love that giggle! I miss that giggle.). Roger's on-site interview with a "Golf Course Ambassador" was weird for a number of reasons. First, this is the kind of stuff that makes me feel like I'm on drugs in the morning. Golf Course Ambassador? Ambassador is kind of a lofty title for the dude who keeps people from loitering on the course. Where I'm from, this is known as Security. I guess they couldn't call him the "Golf Course Bouncer." Anyway, the Ambassador didn't have a whole lot to say and so Pat and Rog were left to their own devices which usually is about as comfortable as riding over gravel in a high speed wheelbarrow. Pat told Rog he should take up golf. Roger said maybe the boss would like him more if he did. Pat said Rog's career might skyrocket if he started playing. Rog said this must be why the boss doesn't speak to him. The End. I don't know who this "boss" is, but he/she better have a darn good reason for giving our guy the cold shoulder. This is the man who barfed at a hot dog eating contest because he was trying to be down with the people; the man who almost drowned for the sake of a million Thanksgiving balloons and endured mindless chatter about Garfield with a hoard of young children. NY1 would be lost without him. And golf is a boring game anyway.

Roger Goes to Rikers (it's not just for convicts any more)

2006-11-28T12:02:00.000-08:00

The subject line of this post - with it's implications of Le Clark in a prison porn flick - doesn't even begin to capture the bizarro nature of yesterday's Roger Report which I'm only writing about now because a) today's report featured The Man himself in a coat and tie talking about something universally boring and b) it took me a full 24 hours to process how weird yesterday's report was. Leave it to Roger to find himself a story only a few blocks from his home, and strategically located near the local bakery. Apparently, the Riker family owned a home in Rog's fave borough back in the ye olde 17th century. After changing hands and falling into disrepair it was purchased in the 1960s and restored to its original glory in the 1980s by The Smiths, a couple who look not unlike Morticia Addams and The Skipper from Gilligan's Island if he happened to dip into Mr. Howell's closet for the day. I've got to admit, the house is quite a jewel especially considering the fact that its closest neighbors are the prison and LaGuardia Airport. Roger, looking ruddy and relaxed (undoubtedly from his quick commute and quite possibly a pastry on the way over), really turned it on for these folks who returned the favor. Even while talking about how her husband courted her back in the 70s by showing her his "graveyard" in the backyard (There is actually a graveyard and showing that kind of thing on a first date was apparently quite a turn-on back in the Me Decade) , Mrs. Smith flashed Rog some heavily botoxed bedroom eyes. Roger seemed impressed, if only by the house, and Mr. Smith - wearing a stunning ascot for that hour of the morning - was none the wiser. Spot on, Clark.

Inflate THIS

2006-11-22T21:29:00.000-08:00

Poor Roger. His first appearance in primetime and he's reporting on the "Great Thanksgiving Balloon Inflation" in the dark and the rain wearing nothing but a NY1 windbreaker to protect him from the elements and the gaggle of small, chubby children who gathered around him as if recreating the final moments of Mr. Sebastian Veneable in "Suddenly Last Summer." Rog was a trooper and tried to chat up the kids on all things Thanksgiving. But like good little jaded X-Box playing rugrats, they all said they had no plan to show up at the parade and that, oddly enough, their favorite balloon was Garfield. One kid, who looked like a mini Roger and actually copped to being from Staten Island, explained that there was no point to watching the parade in person when you can watch it on TV. Duh. Not surprisingly, this kid towed the party line and claimed to like the Garfield balloon too, which triggered the Clark dinner theater humor parachute (a tactic reserved for desperate on-camera emergencies) and Roger responded that he himself didn't like the Garfield balloon that much because he's allergic to cats. Ba-dum-dum-ching! Little Staten Island looked confused and Rog moved on.

At this point, the rain started getting a little heavier and I started wondering at what point Rog's microphone or earpiece was going to electrocute him in front of the kids for whom this would suddenly become "The Great Thanksgiving Balloon Inflation" to remember. Roger, sensing that the NY1 windbreaker couldn't take much more of the wet stuff, tried to pick up the pace and jazz up the questions, probably to alert the director in his/her nice warm truck that it was time to throw to Weather on the Ones and get him the hell out of there. A little girl named Molly looked up at Roger with big smiling eyes, eager to be asked the same beleaguered balloon question only to have Roger hunch down at her and shout "What the heck are you doing here? It's raining!" Molly must have figured she'd ponder the philosophical implications of this statement later and shared that her favorite balloon was Elmo. And Clark, so damp and cold that his lie-to-the-kids instinct went to sleep, said "Elmo isn't going to be here this year." Nice one. I was waiting for "There's no such thing as Santa Claus" and "The Easter Bunny is a drunk" but thankfully the slaughter of childhood dreams was over.

Rog buddy, sorry I didn't come stalk you this evening, but the pull of a nice cup of cocoa and the fear of a restraining order kept me indoors and out of the fray. Nice job. Hopefully the kids didn't eat you alive.

Roger go Bragh!

2006-11-20T06:43:00.000-08:00

Roger was at the Food Bank in the Bronx chatting with a spokesperson who looked like "the evil" version of the lead singer of The Cranberries with her shaved head, hooded black cape coat and thick Irish accent. From the way she was eyeing Clark, I thought she was trying to cast a spell on him...or maybe get her flirt on a little bit. Rog got flustered and said something like "what is it about the holidays that reminds people that other people need to eat?" Bad Cranberry cocked an eyebrow as though this was the Sphinx's make or break question. Honestly, it took me a whole cup of coffee and a quick finger count to figure it out and I'm not telling.

Though I'm impressed by Roger's up-with-people attitude in recent reports, I do long for the occasional goofy fluff piece. Which is why when I saw the clown makeup report by the blond chick (whose name always escapes me because it's not cool like Milanee, Shazia or Kefi) a few segments later, I couldn't help wondering what genius Rog could have contributed. Apparently, there's a whole clown float at the Thanksgiving Day parade (who knew?) and folks have to practice their clown makeup skills ahead of time. There are three types of clown each of which has a name that I only sort of remember so we'll just call them: White Face, Racoon Eyes and Hobo. I would have paid good money to see The Clark sportin' a Hobo, especially at the parade but it's not to be. I think I have to face up to the fact that Rog has become the Angelina of local news. I have seen the groundhog's shadow. There will be no laughter here.

Confirmed: Roger Clark Is The Man

2006-11-17T07:42:00.000-08:00

Rog is taking Friday off because he went to the Cheap Trick concert last night. How do I get this guy's job? More importantly, how did I miss the fact that Cheap Trick was playing? First Joan Jett and now this. I've got to get on this guys concert list. Of course, Joan and I did share a moment in a bar once so, on second thought, maybe I'm The Man.

Where's the Funny At?

2006-11-16T08:14:00.000-08:00

I debated even writing anything about today's Report which focussed on a house fire in the Gravesend area of Brooklyn where a mother and her five children were rescued by firefighters and locals. Not exactly comedy gold. Good to know that everyone's safe, though my sensibilities are pretty bruised from almost a full week of Roger in a tie reporting in "serious dad" voice.

Roger, if you're listening, remember what Crosby, Stills and Nash said: "There is a time for laughter and a time for tears. A time to leave the tie at home and find a nice competitive eating contest to attend."

We miss you Roger.

Is That a PS3 in Your Pocket or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

2006-11-15T05:28:00.000-08:00

Circuit City is giving away 100 Playstation 3s on Friday and Roger was on the scene chatting up the folks who've lined up outside the store (some since Sunday!) waiting for the chance to score one. As per the Clark Way, Rog's assortment of interviewees definitely kept things rolling: the guy who wants to sell the thing on Ebay, the kid who thinks the graphics are going to be good, and the Southern guy who just likes games. Kudos to Rog for getting the Red State vote on this important issue, but for a moment I felt like we had slipped into a Tennessee Williams play. In a moment of gravity, Clark compared the long lines to his salad days when he waited in line for David Lee Roth/Poison tickets in the freezing cold of the North Country (Syracuse). I guess there's no such thing as the kindness of strangers when it's 20 degrees out.

P.S. Clark is looking good these days! The two mile treadmill walks are paying off. I can see the remains of the Vendy Awards just melting away.

Respectfully Submitted from the Roger Zone

2006-11-13T06:17:00.000-08:00

Roger was back at Shea Stadium for the 5,694th time this year to report on the fact that the Mets will be getting a new stadium, paid for in full by Citigroup. The name of the new ballpark? Citi Field. Which isn't bad when you consider the alternative. That Candlestick Park became 3Com Park is horrifying and could easily have paved the way for other companies with no business being involved in baseball naming stadiums after themselves. Imagine Roger reporting from the site of the new Tampax Field. No doubt, Clark would have been the guy on that beat.

Looking, dare I say, trim and healthy, Roger seemed mortified by the fact that he was back at Shea where he essentially set up residence for the better part of the summer. At one point, he leaned into the camera and said something like "I don't belong here" in reference to it being November and baseball season starts in April. It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone: a reporter who loves baseball emerges from a bomb shelter to discover that he is forced to spend every day of the year in his favorite team's stadium parking lot. On days like today, I feel like the producers blindfold the poor guy, drive him around in a van for awhile and surprise him with a location and a story idea on a Post-It note.

Roger went back to Joe's Deli for a man-on-the-street take on the new ballpark and interviewed an assortment of morning deli workers and customers, my favorite of whom was the dude with the black eye. Serling would have loved this one.

Two Minutes of Torture

2006-11-10T06:51:00.000-08:00

Is it me or was Roger MIA this morning? I sat through In the Papers, Weather on the Ones, and Gary Anthony Ramsey three times - not to mention a totally bizarre report from the hirsute nebbish George Whipple who attended a L'Oreal cancer fundraiser seemingly for the sole purpose of telling Diane Keaton a hundred times that she's "a legend" - before calling it quits after Roger failed to appear. Sadly, I've got the entire loop memorized. Clark's absence did give me the opportunity to really give careful consideration to my favorite low-budget commercials on NY1 and here are my thoughts:

1. Select Dental: Featuring the slim, soft-spoken guy in the tuxedo shirt and lip gloss who fears the rising cost of dental care for he and his "wife." Makes you wonder who the woman sitting next to him is supposed to be.

2. Dial 7 car service: Formerly known as Tel Aviv before someone realized that naming anything after a terrorist target was a bad idea. This ad is remarkable purely for how brazenly offensive it is. A white family is being driven around by a Middle Eastern guy - straight out of central casting - who giggles to himself and points to something on the NYC horizon all while fake airplanes are flying around in the background. You haven't seen stereotyping until you've seen this ad.

3. Arris Lofts: This classic features exotic animals showering (I'm serious. The elephant really seems to love the fog-proof glass) in big, boxy lofts in the heart of Long Island City is like water torture, especially since it's on every fifteen seconds. If I have to hear "spacious, gracious living" and "expansive, not expensive" one more time I'm going hunting.

4. Intimacy: Apparently, this is a bra shop featuring "bra fittings." I know this because of the commercial's ingenious use of two ladies chatting about it over a meal. One lady says to the other in all seriousness: "I know. It gives me a lot more lift. I feel slimmer, taller." When will advertising agencies learn that absolutely no woman chats about her feminine hygiene produts, let alone how much her bra is cutting off her circulation because she's short and fat, over lunch. We save that type of convo for dinner parties.

Here's hoping Roger's back tomorrow.

This One Goes to Eleven

2006-11-09T08:15:00.000-08:00

This is war. Apparently, the "other" Roger Clark blog is getting some press and IHRC - due to its creator's lack of tech savvy and failure to get this puppy onto Google, etc. - is not. So, if you're reading this (and Mom, you know who you are) pass it along to all your friends and tell them just how rip-roaringly hilarious, informative, colorful, did I mention hilarious? IHRC is. And if you need a slogan (because who doesn't need a slogan?), here's one: "I Heart Roger Clark: We're Just Better."

Now, on to the Roger Reports. Yesterday saw Clark in Harlem chatting with the locals about the recent election and the changing of the guard. There was a whole lot of rain and everyone looked kind of depressed, but happy at the same time. Kind of like when you finish off a bottle of liquor on your own. Roger, ever the optimist, brought his blue sky with him under his MoMa umbrella which actually has a blue sky sown into the interior. (Note: IHRC notices these kinds of details).

And then there was today's Report brought to you by Roger's hand. I say this because that's really the only part of Roger we saw throughout the entire segment. Lucky for him he was wearing his wedding ring this time. Clark was on the scene at a City Harvest fundraising event which involves making structures out of canned food. A very cool event for an extremely awesome cause. But it wouldn't be a Roger Report without a Roger v. Pat K. moment. This one featured Pat asking Roger about what he was going to do with his cans. Roger went quiet for a second. Maybe he thought Pat was asking him what he was going to do with his "can." Now, it isn't every day that one gets asked such a personal and probing question so Roger's visible confusion is kind of understandable. I guess. But Roger saved the day with a little trip down memory lane when he waxed sentimental for Pat about his days in college when he'd stack cans outside of dorm rooms. I'm assuming the idea here was to get the folks on the other side of the doors to a) believe they were trapped on a grocery store shelf with no way out b) get hit with falling cans when he/she emerged suddenly from the door c) remember they were rooming next to Roger Clark. All of the above had the same result, apparently, which was to get Roger punched in the face. At one point, he even had to miss the Penn State game because of his antics. Naughty Roger! Pat, as usual seemed less than impressed, Roger shut his can (Note: IHRC makes great puns) and....Curtain.

Clark for Ombudsman

2006-11-07T06:57:00.000-08:00

I don't know how Roger does it, but he always manages to find the most interesting (read: bizarro) slice of New York to talk to when he's out on the street doing his thang. Take today for instance. It's Election Day and Rog is in Forest Hills, Queens looking for the man-on-the-street opinion on Alan Hevesi, the Comptroller (a word that drives me insane) embroiled in controversy for failing to re-imburse the city for the tax-payer funded limo trips his mentally ill wife took. I'm just going to jump in here and say that, while Hevesi clearly screwed up by not paying for the trips himself, I can understand why he wanted his depressive/suicidal wife to be driven to and fro in a car service that could potentially offer her some kind of protection. Not that there's anything wrong with Dial 7, but we're talking about a woman who sounds like she's apt to throw herself into traffic, not some tramp who wants a free ride to Bloomingdale's. And when Option #2 for the elected position is Creepy Callaghan - a guy who wears a green bowtie without an ounce of irony - I think Hevesi's expense report issue is the least of our worries. But I digress.

So Clark is chatting up potential voters and his selection includes: a middle-aged white guy in a camo cap and one of those necklaces newly minted frat guys wear who doesn't care about Hevesi because he "always vote(s) Republican" (BIG surprise); a man who had no idea who Hevesi was and, undoubtedly, what the heck a Comptroller is (maybe he too is just irritated by the word); and a gentleman wearing a striking amount of lip gloss who is "not for political corruption." Oh good. This is the kind of random sample to which one should probably add more than a few plus or minus percentage points. But this is why we love The Clark: he's a magnet for the oddly loveable wallflower; the ones who didn't get scratched into the Statue of Liberty's book. He's our goofy beacon of light and I can raise my hand to this because I'm sure.

Clark: A chance in heck?

2006-11-06T07:18:00.000-08:00

Roger kept his report PG this morning while interviewing folks at a local diner on tomorrow's elections. One older gentleman, whose name was either Eddie, Woody or Frank depending on who you ask, seemed a little perturbed at having his regular buttered roll and coffee interrupted by the likes of Rog and his pesky mic. Perhaps in protest, Eddie/Woody/Frank - who mentioned more than once that he'd been coming to this particular diner for forty years for breakfast - didn't stop chewing while stating pretty matter-of-factly that the Democrats would take it all. Can't remember exactly how Roger came to use the sanitized expression "chance in heck" when referring to the Democrats. Certainly, Eddie/Woody/Frank didn't seem like the type of guy who would have balked at the use of a little profanity. I sense that E/W/F probably tosses around the h-e-double hockey sticks word a lot, especially when it comes to politics or reporters interrupting his breakfast. Regardless, Rog kept it clean and E/W/F kept on chewing. No one was any the wiser and the censors breathed a sigh of relief.

Next, Rog chatted up a waitress who remarked that she doesn't vote in much the same way that many jaded diner personnel respond to a request for tofu instead of bacon in their BLT. Clark, ever the investigative reporter, probed her on her no-voting stance. "Because there's no one worth voting for" she answered (translation: Do you want cream or cream with that?). This uncomfortable exchange made Eddie/Woody/Frank's breakfast interlude seem positively sweet. And when Rog topped it off with a question about the most popular food on the menu, the spitfire in an apron could barely contain herself: "Gyros, or anything you like." This further degenerated into Roger saying something about the Greeks and the waitress commenting that the Greeks invented diners, blah blah blah. Poor Rog. Tough crowd this Monday morning. I say, fiddlesticks on them.

Going for the Gold, Rog Style

2006-11-03T18:27:00.000-08:00

Roger reported from the NYC Marathon finish line today which would be really tremendous if the Marathon wasn't two days from now. A safe distance from the possibility of strenuous exercise, Rog chatted about what we can expect from this weekend's race: 26.2 miles and a whole lot of runners. To say that Clark seemed bored by the details - provided in living color by a race representative - would be an understatement. I was busy wallowing in self-pity over not being able to run this year so I tuned out until Clark shared with us that he "power-walked two miles" last night (burning off yesterday's blintiki, no doubt). Rog buddy, save me a seat on the couch.

Viva La Roger-lution

2006-11-02T08:15:00.000-08:00

Roger wore a RED tie to go to the RUSSIAN Tea Room this morning. Coincidence? I think not. And what about the "blinktiki" of which Clark partook. He claimed he had no idea what it was and that he didn't like mushrooms to boot. But did this keep him from scarfing down the dish like he was back in the motherland? Nyet. In fact, Rog was so busy eating and chewing into the microphone, he forgot that he was actually supposed to be interviewing someone. Hence, we heard very little from the chef - who was actually trying to explain what was on the plate before it all disappeared - and a whole lot of fork being inserted into mouth (Roger's). This may have been intentional, lest the chef accidentally spew some controversial rhetoric on lingonberries. Roger knows that he is what he eats and today he is Comrade Clark, czar of the new blintz republic.

Clark Gone Wild

2006-11-01T16:18:00.000-08:00

All I know about today's Roger Report is that 1) Rog was on Staten Island and 2) he was wearing a stripey green sweater. And all I know about stripey green sweaters - especially when the stripeys are horizontal - is that it takes two-ton balls to wear one, especially on tv. Oh Clark, even if I had the slightest idea what you and the Staten Island broad were talking about, I wouldn't have been able to take my eyes off your jolly green giant look. For a moment I wondered if you were packing canned vegetables under there. That said, kudos for shaking up a Wednesday, losing the blazer, and sporting some color. And though most things in life are better lying down, keep your clothing vertical.

Boo (hoo hoo)

2006-10-31T09:38:00.000-08:00

Now I know why Roger was giddy yesterday: he was going to have today off! And what high hopes I had for Rog donning a costume and bantering with Pat K. who, incidentally, was working a hairdo this morning that looked a lot like a small furry animal shellacked to his head. If this image doesn't work for you, picture an 80s flat top with bangs. The only thing news anchor-y about it was the incredible quantity of hairspray holding it all together.

Rog, you better have a good explanation for being off today and anything involving an "assignment" isn't going to cut it. I'm expecting a Wisconsin Cheesehead hat or something tomorrow, Clark, to make up for the fact that my fantasy of you dressing up like a hot dog or Mr. Met (or any other tiresome "character" joke I've made over the past few months) has been shot. I mean it. And you better be reporting on something we all care about like Halloween candy: better frozen (Three Musketeers) or eaten straight out of the bag (Snickers)? Or whose idea it was to hand out old pennies to Trick or Treaters. How many cases of accidental penny ingestion happen on Halloween? You get the idea.

Partially hydrogenate THIS

2006-10-30T12:15:00.000-08:00

Roger Clark is a little like the Post Office: neither rain, nor snow, nor blackouts, nor human remains in manholes, nor suits/nor ties, nor crabby producers are gonna break him, especially when it comes to food. Think about it. If postal workers got to hang out in the Seventh Avenue Deli as Roger did today, I'm thinking fewer of them would be going, well, postal. And even though Rog was wearing a suit and tie (date night with the wife perhaps?) and reporting on the possible demise of hydrogenated oils in food joints around the city, he had a smile on his face. And you want to know why? Because the trans fat isn't off the menu yet and he was standing in just the right place to "get him some." I've been to the Seventh Avenue deli many a time and it's not exactly a health food joint. As the manager said in not so many words on camera today "if the people want to stick concrete in their arteries, who am I to argue?" I have no doubt that Roger's giddiness (oh how I've missed that laugh) was due to the promise of the Lumberjack Special and a side of fries after the cameras went off. So what if KFC is dropping the trans fat from their menu? They're just hippies. Lard is still alive and well. So put a stick of butter in the mail. Your postman will thank you.

The Day the Laughter Died

2006-10-27T08:10:00.000-07:00

The "clampdown" of which Egg Cream spoke yesterday is clearly in full effect. Roger was in no mood for laughing today and his cashmere coat and red tie (staples nowadays) reflected this. Not that there was anything even remotely entertaining in the content of today's Roger Report: carjackings, critically injured police officers, Bathgate (in the Bronx but sounds more like a medieval town known for its hauntings and rat problems). I felt bad for our man, forced to stand in the cold with his tired eyes and frozen face. Here's hoping the next couple of days are chock full of silliness and that your producers lighten up.

Roger Clark: Champion of the World?

2006-10-25T10:59:00.000-07:00

I'm going to be honest. I have no idea what Roger was reporting on this morning because I walked in for the last 15 seconds. I know he was wearing a dress coat and seemed to be pretty upbeat. I also know that he said that if he missed the upcoming political debate to be broadcast on NY, moderator Dominic Carter would beat him up. Correct me if I'm wrong, but Rog tends to think that a lot of folks are looking to beat him up. If I were Clark, I'd worry less about Carter and more about Meminger who has got to still be seething from that Throgs Neck story. Now I know that Egg Cream, IHRC's Deep Throat, claims that segment was always Dean's and that Roger's absence on Monday had nothing to do with the Vendy Awards but because he was working on stories from home. Right. And Floyd The Food Guy was offed from the channel because his culinary talents were being wasted. Come on, we all know that the debacle on Monday was due to 1) Roger getting some bad Halal and 2) someone wanting to stick it to Dean. I won't muse about this any longer for I fear becoming redundant, but I'm just calling it as I see it.

On an entirely different note, I can hardly wait to see what Roger comes up with for Halloween next week. I'm hoping he and Pat K. do a little switcheroo and go as each other. Roger can do "In the Papers" and Pat can see what it's really like to be out on the cold, cold streets getting the scoop on stories so pressing that they usually air between the twilight hours of sleeping and coffee. That'll learn him.

Dude, where's my cart?

2006-10-24T19:55:00.000-07:00

I will never, ever go out of town again. According to one kind IHRC reader, Roger, who can now add Judge of the Vendy Awards to his illustrious resume, was the subject of Monday's report and not the reporter meaning that he undoubtedly took his judging responsibilities a little too seriously on Sunday and was laid up with what I like to call "the cart runs;" a distinctly New York phenomenon involving your stomach and an atomic bomb. Clearly Clark learned nothing from the hot dog disaster this Summer.

Apparently, ol' reliable Dean Meminger was called in to sub for Rog on the mind-bending topic of whether Throgs Neck is spelled with one G or two. Now, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that stoner topics such as this are not Meminger's forte. This guy did not spend any portion of his life wearing a beer helmet or sporting school colors painted on his chest, ergo he is not the dude for this gig. Bring in Debbie Duhaim, "the voice of traffic," for this one. Poor Dean must have thought that someone had switched his notecards. Next thing you know, someone's going to start sticking notes to the back of his suit. Seriously, give Dean the hard-hitting news stories and if there isn't anything on the board, make something up. Or have Clark phone in the Throgs Neck story from the can.

Maybe I'm glad I missed Monday. It sounds too painful.

Forget the Whales, Save the Sweatshirts

2006-10-24T07:12:00.000-07:00

Another grim day in Roger Land. Apparently, the Saturday and Sunday open air market at Aquaduct racetrack is about to be no more because the villainous Port Authority needs the parking lot. Roger seemed pretty devastated by this loss. He waxed sentimental about all the sweatshirts he used to buy at the market back when he was in college. This memory wasn't exactly what I expected. One doesn't normally think of the place that they used to buy roomy clothes with the kind of fondness that Roger expressed, but then again he is Roger Clark and this is why we love him.

To his credit, Roger did quite a mitzvah covering this story: alerting the greater metropolitan area to the fact that many vendors will be out of work just in time for the holidays because of the evil Port Authority. I'm picturing a Miracle on 34th Street end to all of this. The Port Authority gets a bunch of letters dumped on its doorstep, the market gets to stay open, Roger gets an extra special sweatshirt (not to mention a pony), and everyone believes in Santa Claus! Fingers crossed. Fingers also crossed that there aren't any more unemployment and World Trade Center stories in the near future. It's bringing me down, man.

Black Friday

2006-10-20T14:18:00.000-07:00

The Mets lost the pennant to the Cardinals and Roger was reporting on new human remains from 9/11 that were recently discovered in the circumference of the World Trade Center site. Throw in the rain and chill in the air and you have a recipe for a very somber Roger Report delivered by a very somber Roger under a very large black umbrella. Sigh. Thank god the Vendy Awards are this Sunday or Roger would probably be curled up in the fetal position right about now. Good luck with the judging, Rog. May the best street cart win.

Tis the East and Roger is the Sun

2006-10-19T06:48:00.000-07:00

Sorry about yesterday. I was riding the Theraflu magic carpet and woke up late. Thankfully Tuesday's Roger Report, complete with a huge trophy cup and a street cart full of spicy meat, definitely kept me going until this morning.

Today we were treated to what I'll refer to as Roger: morning, noon and night. When he first called-in to Pat, it was still dark out and he was standing in front of Shea Stadium looking adorably snoozy and rumpled in his brown cordoroy jacket (dare I say, the first appearance of the season?) and tie. The Mets are heading into Game 7 against the Cardinals tonight and Rog couldn't be more excited. Apparently he was up late last night watching the game, which could explain why he called Pat K. "Fat." As in, "Hi Fat, it's Roger." I would almost bet money that this was indeed a slip of the tongue and not me continuing to linger in my cold medicine haze. Roger went on to rave about the pitching skills of the Mets' John Maine. He commented that he "loves Maine," especially "the potatoes and the lobster." Is Maine known for its potatoes? I'm thinking no. Anyway... Pat K. threw an existentialist wrench into the conversation when he commented that there would be "no tomorrow unless (the Mets) win." Roger, to his credit, tried his best to grapple with this concept and ultimately just giggled. I would have too, Roger, I would have too.

What seemed like only moments later, we were back on the scene with Roger except this time there was daylight and Roger was standing in exactly the same spot, reporting on exactly the same thing. We got to see the same man-on-the-street interviews at Joey D.'s diner in Queens where all three Joey D's employees (I have no idea if one of them was indeed THE Joey D.) looked like they were straight out of central casting for The Sopranos (even the Asian guy with the diamond stud in his ear looked like his name could have been Sal). These interviews could be used as audition tape if they should ever need it, since their individual readings of "The Mets are gonna take it in 7" was pretty convincing all around.

There was yet another stand-up with Roger at Shea that I mostly tuned out as soon as I realized that we weren't going to get any new info. I did catch Roger having a paranoid moment with Pat regarding his (Roger's) job, but we'll chalk that up to over-excitement (big night tonight) and the fact that it was barely 8 am. No more cold medicine for me. I want to be fresh for Roger's take on tonight's game. Rog, if they win, you better be sporting a foam finger and a Mets jersey tomorrow. Do it for me. Do it for the made men at Joey D's. Do it for New York.

I Hate Myself for Loving You

2006-10-17T10:07:00.000-07:00

I'm glad my cold had me up at the crack of dawn today because old skool Roger was back in full effect! Looking charmingly sleepy in his mismatched jeans and shirt combo and sporting the distinctive bloat of someone who has dined exclusively on beer the night before, Clark was out on the street, in the dark, chatting up a street vendor named Samiul Noor about the upcoming "Vendy Awards" for which he, Clark, will be a judge (why is this not surprising). The Vendy Awards honor the best street cart food in the city and, though I think there's some kind of monetary award (missed that part), there's definitely an enormous silver trophy. How do I know this? Because Roger was clutching one like it was the Heisman while trying to get a good look at the spicy halal chicken that Noor, fresh-faced for that hour of the morning and confident he was going to take home the Vendy, was cooking up. I've heard from friends that street cart meat, specifically "chicken on a stick," is pure hangover magic so I'm thinking that Roger was hoping to score some to take away his pain (I'm speculating here but it kind of looked like he was hurting). The Vendy organizer (name forgotten) who Rog interviewed seemed less than amused to be hanging on the corner in the dark and actually tried to have a serious discussion about how this award brings recognition to the hardworking vendors throughout the city. It's definitely a hard job but it was total buffoonery to lecture on the socio-economic challenges facing vendors to a chubby guy holding a trophy drooling over a grill. When we finally cut to Pat K., Roger got a major attack of the giggles the likes of which I'm not sure I've ever seen or heard. In fact, Roger was laughing so hard that their schtick was overshadowed and I can't remember what the heck set him off. Maybe Roger thought he had discovered the loophole in his job: miss a day of work, return to a trophy and free food. The delusional giggles of a Tuesday morning in Roger-Land. Keep up the good work, my man.

Must...Post...Blog

2006-10-16T12:13:00.000-07:00

I'm going to come clean and admit that I was too sick and still in bed when Mister Roger gave his report this morning. Real journalists have someone else to cover for them when a cold, flu or typhoid strikes, but I am not a real reporter so I have only myself to blame for not waking up in time to see the Big Guy today. And even if I had been up, I fear the Nyquil haze would have only made for another bizarre ramble on the Wizard of Oz, or worse, a tangent on George Whipple's eyebrows and how much they completely freak me out. Guess I need my very own Gary Anthony Ramsey to cover for me when disaster strikes. Sorry Rog. Hopefully today was a slow day and you wore a dress shirt and talked to a boring politico about something really important that would have been impossible to make fun of without sounding like a complete lowlife. If I find out that there were any hilarious gaffes - anything eaten, played with, or worn - I'm coming down there and it's not going to be pretty. Have you ever seen someone wear two sweatsuits and enough VapoRub to open the sinuses of an entire borough? I thought not. It's scarier than Shelley Goldberg in a clown suit. So let's hope that by tomorrow the news is really slow and I'm not sleeping with my mouth open.

ZOIKS! Roger-Doo and the Case of The Slow News Day

2006-10-13T05:32:00.000-07:00

Ok, I said I wouldn't reference any more old movies in this blog, but I never said anything about old cartoons. So I'll just say that there were elements of this morning's Roger Report - on the scintillating topic of the closure of the Manhattan Bridge's lower level for a year - that reminded me of old episodes of Scooby Doo. Was it Roger's imitation of an old man growling about his dislike of the Bridge - an imitation that smacked of Scooby getting all up in Shaggy's grill? ("R-I r-on't r-ike r-uh R-anhattan R-idge!")? You've got to admit that Pat K., who enjoyed Roger's growl so much he had him repeat the joke, looks a little bit like Shaggy...with a necktie and a whole lot of Aquanet. Or perhaps it was the fact that Iris Weinshall, the Transportation Commissioner who was asked for her insights on this hard-hitting news story, looks a hell of a lot like Velma. In fact, she's a ringer for Velma. The only things she was missing were the orange turtleneck and knee socks. I got so stuck on this observation, I tuned out everything she had to say on the bridge closure itself because year-long traffic congestion is a little heavy for my constitution first thing in the morning.

With one eye open I awaited the Pat K. and Roger exchange which I had few hopes for since Rog was dressed to the nines in a long cashmere coat and blue silk tie, usually a sign that the Mystery Machine is headed straight for Dull-ville. When Roger - who is forced to put on an upbeat front for Commissioner Velma - shared that there would be a 100th anniversary party for the bridge on Sunday, Pat K. spoke for all of NYC when he almost tipped out of his chair with boredom. But Pat K. being Pat K. never misses an opportunity to leave Roger hanging so he asked him if he knew what other bridges were turning 100. Roger - like most of us except most of us aren't standing right next to the Transportation Commissioner - didn't know. Some awkward laughing and freeze frame. Give this man a Scooby Snack.

Mr. Met Safe; IHRC Apologizes for Bad Metaphor

2006-10-12T08:29:00.001-07:00

I have to apologize for yesterday's posting. A number of folks have commented on the fact that I implied that Roger had eaten Mr. Met. The kindly Egg Cream clarified for me that Roger was in fact wearing something close to five shirts - thereby adding thirty pounds to his appearance - during yesterday's report. Not entirely certain why he was dressed for the Tundra on a 60 degree day, but I won't quibble. And in fairness the camera does add ten pounds, so take away 40+ lbs. and I should have said "Roger, you need to eat something! You're wasting away. Mr. Met looks tasty..."

And then there was the issue of not correctly quoting Pat K. regarding "Pat's Pal." Apparently, it was something closer to a "pal of Pat's." Oh ok.

Lastly, someone didn't enjoy the extended Wizard of Oz metaphor. I agree, it got old, especially with the P.S. about flying monkeys. I should say that between writing yesterday's post and today's I contracted a bad cold that seems to be taking on the characteristics of typhoid fever and Ebola combined. Whatever it is, I feel like I'm on my deathbed so I'm going to blame the onset of this wretched illness for my hallucinatory post. Can't promise anything I write today will be much better, but I swear I will not reference any old movies or the cannibalism of a sports mascot.

So Roger was in serious mode/costume (grey suit / red tie) today reporting on the very tragic death of Yankees pitcher Cory Lidle in a plane crash on the Upper East Side yesterday. I've got to say, I feel for Rog. All he wanted to do was chat about his beloved Mets and, not to be macabre, but here the Yankees go grabbing the headlines again! Poor guy. Get this man a hot dog with all the fixings and a couple of Championship tickets (one for Rog, one for his "pal") no Ebay required. You deserve it, Clark. And if Pat can't make it, I'm available. As soon as the typhoid clears up.

Pat's Pal in the Sky with Diamonds

2006-10-11T13:05:00.001-07:00

It's a shame that the Roger Report can't be bottled and stocked in a bodega near you because every now and then it'll give you a buzz - or at least the feeling that you're somewhere over the rainbow (remember the Franciscan monk?) - better than any malt liquor out there. Case in point: today's report outside of Shea Stadium. First, there was Roger in a Met's jersey looking like, dare i say it?, he ingested Mr. Met. Perhaps it was just the cut of the shirt but it definitely looked like something (something with a baseball for a head) was hiding under there. Next stop on the NY1 Yellow Brick Road involved children in little Mets jerseys singing the line "I believe!" over and over again. Kids singing is generally something that only the singing kids' parents enjoy and this was no exception especially since the song in question was ONE line long. Roger interviewed an older guy (no idea who he was because I missed his chyron) who was with the kids and seemed pretty convinced that this "song" had kept the Mets alive and might very well carry them through to a World Series win. This is Oz after all, so you can't really blame him for hoping. The segment cut out when the kids got their hands on a microphone behind Roger and started shouting their own little Munchkin-type phrases like "Go Mets!," "I love the Mets!,:" and "Aaaahhhh!!!" at a deafening volume. Thankfully, Pat dropped a house on this scene and we cut to commercial.

Later, we returned to Roger - mercifully all by his lonesome this time - who was giddy over the fact that he no longer had to cover the Yankees. Join the club, Clark. I felt like Dorothy, and I'm sure you did too, when I realized we "weren't in the Bronx any more." But the best of all of the weirdness today was when Rog mentioned that tickets to a championship game might be available on Ebay. Pat, in an unusual break from his straightman role, tried to sucker Roger into inviting him along to any game he might score tickets to by referring to him as "Pat's Pal." Not surprisingly, Roger was confused by this so there were a couple of awkward moments until Pat blamed the producer (isn't it always the producers?) for telling him to cut it short and Roger was captured in a brief freeze-frame (vogue!). The NLCS has only just begun and I sense this can only get worse. P.S. no flying monkeys

Newsflash: The Yankees pooed today

2006-10-10T10:14:00.000-07:00

Leave it to NY1 and our man Clark to take a story and wring it within an inch of its life. Remarkably, I'm not talking about isolated blackouts or the borough of Queens both of which got an unbelievable amount of airtime this summer, not that there's anything wrong with that. If I was sitting in my formerly air conditioned house with a freezer full of beef for a full week, I'd want some local news coverage too. I'm just saying,you've got to know when to quit otherwise things -and by things I mean Roger - start to look desperate. For example, today we got a few more updates on the Yankees and how they blew their chances to go to The Series. Roger was clad in his Bad News attire (suit and tie), minus his wedding ring which I'm assuming just means he woke up late and forgot or he was told at the last minute that he would once again be covering the Yankees screw-up and someone had to pry his finger off the shotgun in his mouth thereby removing the ring. Even with the good news that Joe Torre would probably be allowed to stay on to finish out his contract and not be replaced by Lou Pinella - a man with the face of a pugilist and the coaching skills of a guy who's been hit in the head one too many times - this story is done. As in really done. Especially since The Mets - that's right, NYC's "other team" - is still in fighting form. Funny how even sports teams can wind up as the bastard stepchild in a family. The Mets have been getting good grades and playing well with others, while The Yankees have been fighting in the playground and setting spiders on fire. But everybody LOVES the Yankees. Well Roger seemed to be at his limit today and even Pat K. couldn't argue. That's right, there were no embarassing moments and no awkward exchanges. Just a mutual agreement that this story could go no further. A sad day for news, but a great day for democracy.

Psychoanalyze this!

2006-10-06T08:42:00.000-07:00

Lot of Issues with a capital I going on in today's Roger Report; the kind of issues that one usually pays to discuss with someone while reclining on a couch or for free on Dr. Phil. Clark, decked out in his favorite brown suit jacket and glasses (his hot nerd look, aka The "Clark's Kent"), was ostensibly reporting on the fact that today is the last day for parents to register their children to ride the school bus. In other words moms and dads, if you don't fill out some more paperwork, your kids are hangin' with you for the rest of the day. First, does anyone else find this revelation to be more than a little depressing? Am I the only person on earth that still entertained the idea that the school bus just kind of knew where you lived, like Santa Claus or Hewlett-Packard. As if anyone watching the morning news (versus, say, cartoons) needed a reminder that they weren't five years old any more, today we're alerted to the fact that even the school bus is wrapped in bureaucratic red tape. Happy Friday!

But I digress. The real Issues that I wanted to discuss had nothing to do with my own Peter Pan complex, but the fact that Rog clearly had some childhood stuff going on. For example, today we learned that his father told him if he leaned out of a moving bus window, he might get his head cut off if he hit a telephone pole when the bus made a turn. An excellent point and one that could have easily prompted Roger to become a serial killer. We also learned that his mother (isn't it always the mothers?) made him take the subway instead of the bus during high school, a fact that seemed to get under Clark's skin. I say kudos to Mrs. Clark for keeping her son's head on his body and his pride intact since riding the bus until you're just about in college doesn't exactly reel in the chicks. Rog, you have your mom and the A train to thank for that wedding band on your finger.

We also discovered that Roger thinks that there's nothing more depressing than an empty school bus. I think what he meant to say was there's nothing more depressing than a school bus. Empty or otherwise, the big yellow bus - especially when looked at as a guillotine- is not exactly upbeat (and don't even get me started on the short bus). Let's hope that Roger's "Clark Kent" is planning on changing into some tights for some Superman action because this Friday needs a little saving.

Roger Clark: Funniest Reporter Guy (almost)

2006-10-05T11:39:00.000-07:00

I've said it before and I'll say it again but you know it's going to be a grim day when Roger's in a suit. Add to that a Franciscan friar giving an extensive monologue on the t-beam cross relic from 9/11 and you've got a recipe for a handful of sleeping pills and six martinis for breakfast. Speaking of, today's Roger Report reminded me in some ways of that pharmaceutical commerical featuring Abe Lincoln and a guy with insomnia which pretty accurately captures the experience of dreaming...or having a drug-induced nightmare. If a talking beaver with a chessboard had appeared with the Franciscan in today's report I would have been fairly certain I was hallucinating and promptly signed myself up for Narcotics Anonymous. On second thought, the Franciscan alone might have me doing the 12 steps.

As much as I love rambling on and on about the seriousness of the suit, and the bizarro-ness of a talking monk with my morning coffee, I'm going to turn the rest of this posting over to a couple of Kodak moments from the halcyon days of Summer when the shirts were polo and the news was funny. Here are a couple of shots from Roger's turn at The Funniest Reporter contest. He may not have won the contest, but he captured our hearts and what appears to be a sweet, sweet backstage pass (hung around his neck). I'm hoping that thing is for a Stones concert or something because backstage at the Gotham Comedy Club is not terribly cool. A beaver and a chess set, now that's cool.

Roger wonders where his polo shirt be at!

"I said the brown polo shirt...idiots"

Roger and the Gang (I see that this event also featured a Frasier lookalike)

Will the real Roger Clark please stand up?

2006-10-03T07:33:00.000-07:00

There's so much to say about today's Roger Report that I don't even know where to begin and as usual it has almost nothing to do with the news (both the report and my thoughts on it). First of all, there's Roger's new hairdo. Flattops went out a couple of years ago, Clark. I'm grateful you don't have a fade, but for the love of god, there's nothing wrong with a little bit of hair gel. Secondly, WHAT'S UP WITH THE SUIT?! I let it slide yesterday, but two days in a row is inexcusable. Would it kill you to put on a pair of jeans and, at the risk of being redundant, a polo shirt? T-shirts, sweatsuits, even parachute pants (can't touch this!) are also acceptable. Now for the biggie. Is that a wedding ring on your left hand, Clark? Was that there yesterday? Did you get married this morning? If so, I will excuse the suit (not the haircut, however). I suppose congratulations are in order. Women throughout the five boroughs mourn the loss, but please tell me this does not mean you're "all grown up" now and the days of hard-hitting news stories on paintball are behind you. I'll just die!

Thankfully, the vaudeville show that is Pat K. and R.C. was in full effect or this would forever be known as Black Tuesday. I'm going to blame the fact that Kiernan The Canadian knew the words to the Yankees song - while Roger could only grin and follow along - on the fact that Clark's NECKTIE (to go with his SUIT) was tied too tight. Or perhaps this really is the New Roger: a blushing new groom who got hit with the serious stick. It's a wedding band, Roger, not a death sentence so lose the undertaker duds and get back to reporting on what we all really care about: hot dog eating contests, blackouts (make one up if you have to), water polo. And PLEASE do not let Pat outshine you in the Americana trivia department. Sweet save mentioning that you grew up right by The House That Ruth Built, but it doesn't count for anything if you can't spell Yankees. So get yourself a pair of Jams, have yourself some Freedom Fries and go out there and do what you do best. And if you don't know what that is, ask Pat.

News flash: New Yorkers like the Yankees AND the Mets

2006-10-02T05:25:00.000-07:00

These are the days when I seriously feel for my main man Clark. He took one for the team (Or both teams as the case may be) and stood in Union Square at the crack of dawn to find out which New York baseball team New Yorkers would be rooting for in the MLB postseason showdown. Not surprisingly, those folks who could actually string a sentence together at that hour of the morning seemed to be in favor of...both. The lack of Pat K. commentary during Roger's giggle-fest (editor's note: I get giddy too when I haven't had my coffee yet and/or I'm bored to the point of tears) seemed to indicate that A) technical difficulties shut down communication or B) the sheer tedium of the topic defied even the dullest of comic stylings.

But hands down, the best part of today's Roger Report was the man-on-the-street interviews. I can't decide who I liked more: the Asian man in the tie and baseball cap who figured now was as good a time as any to comment on the fact that baseball players are overpaid (he likes the Mets) or the guy with the "scrape" on his face that just happened to look like a wicked case of herpes (he's rooting for the Yankees). I think Guy #2 wins just because he felt he had to explain to the bleary-eyed viewing public just what the nasty purplish mark right by his mouth was even though the last thing on earth the aforementioned bleary-eyed viewing public was looking at was this dude's facial lesion. Thank you sir for forcing me to think about your bedroom habits on this fine, fine Monday morning.

So let's give it up for Rog who was not only hung out to dry by his straight man, but also risked life and limb to chat with commuters on a Monday morning about a topic that scores right up there with paint drying.

Like a spoonful of sugar or a shot glass of Crazy Horse, Roger you make everything better.

Dreams really do come true

2006-09-28T19:41:00.000-07:00

Clark says "I am your leader"

Well, this might be the greatest Thursday ever. Behold an original photo of our guy doing his thing, getting jiggy with the news, being a badass. I'm sad that this particular shot does not reveal the man in his uniform (jeans, polo shirt), but I'm willing to do a shameless plug for NY1 news if Roger's going to be in it. Seriously though, the NY1 microphone, NY1 jacket, NY1 van?This is a non-partisan blog here, folks. Sort of. Alright, no it's not. Anyway, be still my heart. Move over Fabio. Take a hike Hasselhoff. Clark's on the scene and it feels sooooo good.

Et tu, Egg Cream?

2006-09-27T20:25:00.000-07:00

No photos...yet.

If you have to do polo, stick with the shirt

2006-09-27T08:04:00.000-07:00

Water polo is a sport normally dominated by extremely hot men. I'm not saying that Rog doesn't have his charms, he does, and we all know my fondness for the brown polo shirt. However, yesterday's turn in the pool with the godlike St. Francis Xavier water polo team was, how do you say?, just wrong. Through the miracles of editing, we didn't have to witness Roger nearly drowning in the pool, but technology couldn't disguise the fact that he wore his special water polo cap, tied dangerously tight, and a tight grey t-shirt while conducting an interview poolside with three Serbian studs - water dripping from their rippling muscles. In all fairness, it's not easy holding one's own in the company of Greek gods, but most folks would have at least lost the swim cap. Clark looked like a Q-tip. The Serbians knew it, Pat K. knew it, and I certainly knew it. When it seemed that he might not be able to untie the cap, the camera mercifully cut back to Pat. I missed this morning's report. Hopefully he was able to cut that thing off.

Ain't Nothin's Gonna Break-a This Blog's Stride

2006-09-22T15:49:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been two whole days and no Roger Clark photo has magically appeared in my inbox. That's ok. If Roger himself can persevere in the face of endless black outs, killer hot dogs, and gi-normous Pokemon characters, "I Heart Roger Clark" will carry on. Oh, it will carry on.

I've never loved opera as much as I did today

2006-09-22T12:34:00.000-07:00

After listening to one of the most disgusting news reports ever this morning, I have to say that there was nothing better than seeing Roger's smiling face. Even the suit and tie didn't faze me. He chatted with Peter Gelb, who recently succeeded Joseph Volpe as the General Manager of the Metropolitan Opera, and shared a little banter with Pat about...well I was pouring myself a cup of coffee at the time so I may have missed some of the details. All I remember is something about how Roger cries at sports movies (who doesn't?) and then something about The English Patient. Pat seemed confused, I was definitely confused, but it's all good because no matter what he was talking about he wasn't talking about kids drowning in buckets of their mother's vomit. Nuff said.

Two Words: Hard Hat

2006-09-21T06:00:00.000-07:00

This morning, Roger donned a hard hat - titlted jauntily to the side - to report from a Habitat for Humanity building site in the Bronx. A very worthy cause, I must say, and no suit required! Light banter with Pat K. about how he, regardless of his attire, doesn't know anything about construction and a little bit of miming to show exactly what he contributed to the work today (he was told to hold something). To top it all off, the usual awkward end involving Pat thanking Roger and Roger nodding and...curtain. Well done gentlemen. And Thursday is off and running!

Very Cloak and Dagger

2006-09-20T15:37:00.000-07:00

I had a dream today. A dream that someone out there in the five boroughs had a stockpile of Roger Clark photos just laying around; so many photos he just didn't know what to do with them. A dream that showed this person sitting down with a jar of U-bet chocolate syrup, milk, and an old-tyme seltzer syphon and logging on to this blog. This person would see my desperate plea for photos, put their drink down (after finishing it of course, wouldn't want it to go flat) and search the stockpile for the perfect photo to send to me. But wait. Where should it be sent?

X marks the spot -> jen@moonfaceandwally.com.

Did I mention that I also heart Egg Creams?

2006-09-20T09:24:00.000-07:00

Apparently, "I Heart Roger Clark" has some competition. Even though the kindly "Egg Cream" alerted me to this fact awhile ago in a comment - which I failed to see until today since I didn't think anyone outside of those 3 or 4 devotees read what I wrote let alone commented on it - I am only catching on now (let's blame the blond hair for this one). I have to say, it's a little bizarre that we all fell in love with Roger at approximately the same moment (the era heretofore known as B.H. or Before Hot Dog), and even used the same adjective ("lovable") to describe him (isn't he though?). So now I've got to do SOMETHING to distinguish "IHRC" from the other fan club that isn't nearly as dedicated to the growing legendary figure that is Roger Clark as I am. OK, I'm sure they're dedicated too, but I use the word "Heart" in the title of my blog which has to count for something.

I know, a picture would do quite nicely. Now where would I find one of those...Egg Cream, got any ideas?

Roger Gets Catty (get it?)

2006-09-20T06:39:00.000-07:00

I was going to call this post "Roger Goes to the Dogs," but that just seemed done. We try to keep our titles fresh here at "I Heart Roger Clark."

Today, Roger reported from the new, 5 million dollar ASPCA building which is supposedly fairly grand and unlike the old-fashioned shelters with rows of cages full of heartbreakingly cute animals. Not that we got to see the new building because, as is frequently the case with Clark reports, there's generally a lack of any physical activitiy. Eating does not count.

All decked out in a striped polo, Rog tried to wrangle a kitten named "Tommy" who - despite Roger's protests to the contrary - did not appear to be one of the millions of cats in the world who love him. After a brief interview with the Executive VP and brains behind the new facility (which Clark helpfully commented he'd "like to move into"), Roger stood up and started looking around for Tommy who had hidden himself underneath Roger's chair likely figuring that there was no way The Big Guy would ever exert himself enough to come looking for him. Poor Tommy. How wrong he was. After some maneuvering, and with a little help from the VP, Roger pulled Tommy from under his seat and once again had him in his clutches. Pat K. commented that Tommy looked "warm" which I think was a veiled reference to Roger's bear hug hold on the little guy. And like all Clark reports, he went out with a zinger when he leaned into the camera and said to Pat in his best faux snarl "I'll adopt him and bring him home and then he'll like me!" I'm hoping this is not a Clark dating technique.

show me a sign

2006-09-19T06:12:00.000-07:00

Now I'm all confused. Once again, Roger was reporting on the anticipated traffic congestion due to the UN general assembly and the protests regarding Bushie's visit, but unlike yesterday's easy breeezy report delivered like your dad cracking wise at a family bbq in a purple polo with a bad sunburn, he was in a suit. And we all know what the suit means. Akin to the groundhog seeing his shadow, when Roger dons a suit, we're in for some depressing "real" news. So it came as a wonderful surprise when Puxatawny Rog made a joke and then another one and then another one. No they weren't funny - especially the one about steering clear of the East Side for good - but the man was on fire! Pat chuckled and I realized that Roger - still high on his comic turn at the Gotham Comedy Club - was practicing his routine for the day when reporters everywhere once again are allowed to take the stage and tell the jokes that journalistic integrity normally prohibits. Or maybe he was trying to tell me "Hey there Jen. Just because the polo shirts are in the wash, doesn't mean my sense of humor is too. I'm not afraid to put on a necktie and hang myself with it. The laughter never dies."

Stop playing with my heart, Clark. Don't confuse me and wear a suit while you're being a dork. Keep it simple: suit = boring, polo shirt = funny. Jeez, isn't it obvious?

Purple Polo and The Tomato

2006-09-18T10:15:00.000-07:00

The Real Roger Clark has returned and he's back in fine, fine form! Decked out in a purple polo shirt and sporting an awful sunburn on his face that made him look like a guy on the verge of stroking out, Roger was chipper as he reported back to the home desk on the traffic nightmare that will be accompanying the President's imminent arrival and the UN general assembly. After relaying each and every street that will be closed, Rog and Pat K. exchanged some light banter that included Roger lightheartedly referring to Bush's plans to address Iran's "pesky Uranium problem." Pat, being Pat, called him out on this and Roger, turning an even deeper shade of magenta, giggled and said something along the lines of "well, maybe it's not just pesky." More giggling from Roger, a light chuckle from Pat, and without further ado we cut to commercial. My Monday was made.

funny mornings are here again?

2006-09-15T09:00:00.000-07:00

I've been remiss about writing, I'll admit. It's just that after days of "reporter voice" and what seemed like eons of suits and ties on Mr. Clark, I was spent. There was nothing left to laugh at. Roger had decided to become a serious reporter and I felt like I had been dumped.

Yesterday was my birthday and I was in a funk what with the rain and hurdling closer to middle age. I turned on NY1, purportedly to check the weather, but in reality to take myself back for just a moment to happier, more carefree days when the weather was warm and Roger Clark wasn't afraid to rap on camera. I wasn't expecting much, but then.... There he was. I should say, there IT was: the brown polo shirt was back!! Roger was wearing a raincoat and standing underneath an umbrella, but I could clearly see the brown polo shirt I had come to know, nay cherish. I have no idea what he was reporting on, I was so thrilled to not be gazing upon a three-piece suit. Nothing funny happened, at least not at that moment, but there was a glimmer of hope.

And then I woke up this morning to discover, via Pat K. and Roma Torre, that Roger had participated in a comedy showdown between reporters from throughout the city last night at Gotham Comedy Club. The event was for charity (something about greeting cards and the troops in Iraq) and Rog was representing NY1. Though we didn't get to hear any excerpts from his routine, they showed him standing on stage looking, dare I say, adorable in a t-shirt and glasses performing his little heart out. Now if he could just bring the laughter back to the early morning news, we'd be golden. Fingers crossed.

Enough's enough

2006-09-12T05:32:00.000-07:00

Roger, forgive me! I didn't mean it when I joked about your brown polo shirt! I LOVE your brown polo shirt! And I was only kidding when I said your laugh was goofy. I meant SEXY! SEXY!

When I saw Roger decked out in a suit and tie sporting a serious newscaster expression for the umpteenth time in I don't know how many days, my heart sunk. YESTERDAY was September 11th. TODAY is just a primary election. Bring back the polo shirt! Even Pat K. seemed confused by his gravity and tried to lighten the mood when Rog reported - in funereal tones - that there were pastries being served at one primary location at a school in Prospect Heights. Pat commented "That's your kind of primary, Roger." Roger barely managed a chuckle, let alone a giggle. Pat said "bring me back (a pastry)," to which Roger said gravely "I'll bring back one for everyone." You could almost hear the crickets. Pat thanked Clark and Clark shrugged and waited for the camera to cut. And cut it did. Along with the strings of my heart.

Was it something I said?

2006-09-05T20:01:00.000-07:00

I am generally of the opinion that absolutely no one, except my mother and I, read anything that I write. So it came as a surprise to me when, not long after starting this blog, Mister Roger Clark and his antics disappeared from the airwaves. Sure NY1 was still there, with the likes of, god help us all, the hyper-kinetic Shelly Goldberg and The Parenting Report. I might add that Goldberg, who doesn’t seem to know anything about parenting, strikes me as perhaps a frustrated mime. Any time she talks, in that staccato speech reserved for adults trained as party clowns, I fully expect her to blow up a balloon into the shape of a dachshund. But I digress. Roger was missing and I felt wholly responsible. Perhaps he had read of my great love of his buffoonery, not to mention his polo shirts. Had my good-natured comments taken the maestro from us? Then I started hearing through the grapevine (actually from the 3 or 4 folks I know who idolize R.C. as much as I do) that he was back on the air after a two week vacation. I checked the NY1 site and sure enough there were at least 3 reports filed by The Man himself but I had missed them! How? Had he changed his schedule because he knew when I’d be watching? I was also alerted to the fact that he had foregone his usual shlumpy garb for, drumroll please, SUITS. Now I was convinced: Clark had changed his attire and his schedule to keep away from the likes of me and my poison keyboard. Maybe it’s the unemployment talking here, but I started to feel like Bruce Almighty. I was changing the world, or at least basic cable, from the comfort of my own couch.

This morning I got up, had a cup of coffee, and settled in with my all-powerful computer. Who would I blow off the air today? Just as I was starting to feel wistful and sick at the thought of changing the name of the blog to “I Hate Shelly Goldberg,” who should appear but our man in the flesh! There was Roger, at exactly the same time he had always been on, but something was different. He was wearing a suit, AND A MATCHING TIE?! I calmed myself with the notion that he was probably reporting from some important municipal event that required formal dress. No, he was reporting on the first day of school. In a suit? Hello, invasion of the body snatchers! What was going on here? Once again I thought back to my all-powerful blog. From this point forward, Roger was going to just report the facts and he was going to dress like your dad while he was doing it even if it killed him. I felt myself deflating as he gave Kristen Shaughnessy – sitting in for the irrepressible Pat Kiernan – a detailed report on the opening of public schools across the city. All without an ounce of irony. It was truly the end of days. And then, like a bolt of lightening, my hopes were restored when Roger pulled out a beanie with the spinny thing on top and put it on. He also showed off a couple of photos of himself from third grade and commented for all of us who were blind that his teeth were no longer buck to the point of absurdity. He claimed that this was an annual tradition: the donning of the beanie and the revelation of the class photos. I don’t remember it, but I’m happy to embrace it if so.

After an awkward throw back to Kristen, I felt the spring return to my step. All was right and good in the world now that Roger was back to make fun of (it.).

It's Not You, It's Me

2006-08-22T09:02:00.000-07:00

I feel like I've been dumped. Has Roger reported on ANYTHING in the past couple of days?? Do I just keep on missing him? Did he go to another competitive eating contest and have a run in with another bad hot dog? Maybe he's just taking some time off after reporting on non-stop power outages. Whatever it is, this can't continue. I'm lost without a daily dose of Clark.

Roger Clark: Fisherman (for real this time)

2006-08-14T07:16:00.000-07:00

The brown polo was back again. This can only mean two things: 1) Roger's going to do something majorly nerdy in the name of news (see Roger Clark: Reporter Guy) or 2) The upcoming report will put even a die-hard NY1 / Roger Clark groupie like myself into a coma of boredom (see any of the reports on the multiple power outages in Queens which, while terrible for the residents of Queens, were even worse for the folks who had to watch Clark try to make discussing them interesting) . Today's segment was on fishing in Great Kills, Staten Island. I'll take Option #2, Vanna.

It's Monday, a day in desperate need of a ratings boost. Similarly, Staten Island, home of the Fresh Kills Landfill, is pretty much the bastard, redheaded step-child of the boroughs, even the outer ones. In general, no one likes Mondays and most folks feel the same way about Staten Island. You throw in fishing and you've got yourself a loser. But there's Clark, in his brown polo, standing on the Great Kills beach (Yes, Staten Island boasts two locations with the words Kills in it. This should be a tip-off to comedians and reporters alike: just don't go there.) talking about how folks love coming to this beach to take their chances on reeling in a big one. This "big one" might include objects other than fish since Clark also felt the need to warn would-be Old Men River that you really shouldn't eat too much of what comes out of these waters due to the pollution. I guess this means the occasional filet of irradiated blue fish or empty oil drum is ok, though.

Man was this segment a snooze-fest. I couldn't even bring myself to laugh when he interviewed two gentlemen sporting fishing poles, red faces and voices that sounded like they were no strangers to the smokes, about the joys of angling at this particular beach. One guy aptly commented that fishing keeps him from watching the news. If every news story were like this one, I too would never tune in. Even Pat Kiernan, always good for a witty comment, seemed glazed over. Roger, by the way, doesn't like to fish because he can't stand to see the hook in the fish's mouth. Oh ok. Zzzzzz.

On the Clark-o-meter scale of 1-10: 2

Roger Clark IS the Gorton's Fisherman

2006-08-09T10:48:00.000-07:00

Remember when you were in elementary school and there was that one kid who was just born to be a nerd? This kid was usually a boy and always looked like he and his knapsack had gotten into a fierce tornado on the way to school. The shirt was buttoned wrong, the Trapper Keeper (with a space age theme) had exploded, the sneakers were always untied, and the nose was unfailingly being picked. Sports, even kickball, were not this kid's forte and his interests usually involved video games (formerly a nerds-only pursuit), comic books, Star Trek, paintball, and big-breasted girls - just as long as they were animated. There is some justice in the world and oftentimes the nerds come out on top: Bill Gates for example, Stephen Spielberg, the kid in the Wonder Years. And then there are the perma-nerds like our beloved Roger Clark who fall somewhere in the middle: touched gently by fame, but without the big bucks to hire someone to button their shirts correctly.

This morning Roger was at a research lab at Brooklyn College reporting on the College's work creating sustainable fisheries. Clark was wearing a striped polo (new?) and a tiny yellow raincoat that it appeared he had either slept in or put on in a hurry since half of it was hanging off his shoulder. Picture a kid who just arrived late to school and had to throw down his bookbag in a hurry to get to homeroom and I'll show you Roger Clark.

The researcher that Clark interviewed, a doctor someone, was older, very tan, and wearing enough rings to make Liberace jealous. Roger referred to him as the "Fish Head." Before reaching into a tank to net out an gigantic halibut, the good doctor cracked a joke that, because it wasn't funny, has not stuck in my fish head. Clark thought it was hilarious and commented that this was a guy who had clearly spent time in the Catskills. Clearly. Roger looked pretty grossed out by the squirming beast and eventually he threw back to Pat Kiernan at the home desk with the comment, "I thought I made the cheesiest jokes" with the implication that Dr. Old Man River was even cheesier than he. Pat was barely audible at that point and Roger, knowing things were about to get painfully awkward, shifted in his rumpled raincoat and dropped his head to his chest - like a rock star at the end of a ballad or a loveable nerd just staring at his shoe.

Roger Clark: Whirling Dervish

2006-08-08T08:44:00.000-07:00

Roger makes my head spin. One day I find myself laughing at/with him as I did on Friday when he attended a Pilates convention and was repeatedly assaulted by a wigged out old instructor with one name who kept bending him over a horse to stretch out his back. Poor Clark, bright red and sweaty, pointed at his substantial belly and tried to make small talk about reducing his gut, only to find himself being bent over the horse again. One-Name didn't want to chat, she wanted to stretch and Rog had no choice but to comply.

Monday rolls around and I turn on NY1 with a smile already plastered on my face anticipating a morning kick-off of pure Roger. What gaffs did he have in store for us? I could hardly wait. The second I saw the suit...and tie...I knew I was in for something serious. Tragically, a pet store had caught fire and many animals had been killed. Roger, and his heart and belly full of gold, almost cried on camera. Wet kittens wrapped in towels being comforted by locals was a horrible sight to behold and our man Roger covered the story with gravity. Ed Murrow in the midst of the Blitz couldn't have done it better.

This morning, I kept one eye closed as I turned on the tube. Tuesday is a grim enough day without having the one news guy you turn to for levity near tears. It's like watching Santa Claus cry or drink himself to death. But Roger didn't let me down today. Today he was covering the 10th anniversary of Pokemon at Bryant Park and kicked off the piece making some poor sap in a life-sized Pikechu costume wiggle its ears before diving into its chest and murmuring "I love you." He could have wrapped up right there, but the best was yet to come. After a brief chat with a guy who teaches kids how to score at Pokemon (sadly I don't think I ever realized it was an actual game), he interviewed a boy who looked not unlike Nicholas from "Eight Is Enough." When Roger asked him where he was from and the kid told him Forest Hills, Roger practically had a heart attack and whacked the kid Elaine Bennis-from-"Seinfeld"-style in solidarity (Clark is from Forest Hills). The kid, not knowing what other bizarre things the lunatic with the microphone might do, just shifted his eyes perhaps waiting for Child Services to show up. Roger excitedly asked if the boy goes to P.S. 175. He monotoned"P.S. 174" in response and shifted his eyes again (where are the cops when you need them). Clark knew that bonding time, at least with a human, was over so he signed off with his head buried in big Pikechu's shoulder. Mascots don't argue.

It's Still Hot in Here

2006-08-03T07:35:00.001-07:00

Guess what. It's still ridiculously hot here in NYC and that means Roger is still out on the street reporting on it. Today, he returned to Astoria, Queens to cover the latest power outage in that much suffering borough. Got to hand it to my main man for being able to keep it real even as he's living his own personal Groundhog Day. A few days ago he was chatting with beachcombers, today it was the folks who happened to pass through the parking lot of a local Burger King that's been closed because of a lack of power. There was the manager of that Burger King who had just started to talk when what sounded like a fog horn punctuated his sentence. Guess there was no time for a second take. Then there was the heavyset school teacher, off for the summer, in a wifebeater who was going to "refresh" in his pool. And lastly, there was Roger, dressed in a purple polo shirt that reminded me of Grimace (one of the mascots for that other famous burger chain), who closed his piece with a song based on the old Burger King commercial. Unfortunately, I've blocked out the lyrics but rest assured they were Roger-esque. He also mentioned that he'd be this particular BK's first customer when the doors finally re-open. Management can now rest easy.

Clark-o-meter: 8.5

Ice, Ice Roger!

2006-08-02T13:54:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a bad day for Clark. More reports on the heat and the same brown polo he wears when things are looking serious. I couldn't bring myself to post anything for fear my computer might melt with boredom.

Today was a different story. Our man was out at the Chelsea Piers ice skating rink, interviewing kids and a zamboni driver about skating in the cool, cool rink when it's hot, hot outside. Notably, Roger kept himself off camera for most of the piece, opting instead to focus on cute kids doing smooth moves. For a moment I wondered if Roger had turned over a new leaf. Were all of his pieces heretofore going to be nice, sterile, uncontroversial and, dare I say, informative? And then there was the closer. Roger in a hooded stained sweatshirt and layers of black and red pants doing small turns on the ice and nearly wiping out. Things are looking up!

Clark-o-meter: 8

It's Getting Hot in Here!

2006-07-31T11:02:00.000-07:00

Other than the fact that Israel and Lebanon are destroying each other, it was a slow news day today and Roger Clark took the opportunity to report on the budding heat wave from Manhattan Beach. No, he wasn't wearing a wetsuit or Speedos, but rather his ubiquitous polo shirt. And no, there wasn't anyone at the beach yet, save for an old guy with Coke bottle glasses and a metal detector and a chubby fellow in a baseball cap who was just bobbing aimlessly in the water. Roger opened his piece with his hand slapped against his head in a demonstration of the unbearable heat (though it was about 7am and the temperature was only in the mid-70s). Kristen Shaughnessy was manning the home desk and commented on Clark's Victorian posturing to which Rog, God bless him, chuckled in a way that only he can. After a brief interview with a Russian woman who commented that she hates the heat and prefers "cold" (as in War?), Roger took it to the sand and interviewed the only person there to talk to (if you discount the guy floating around like a buoy in a baseball cap), the guy with the metal detector, who commented that Roger was "annoying" him. Later, Roger explained he endeared himself to the guy when he told him that he reminded him of his Uncle Irving who used to own a "soda shop." A trick we should all employ whenever someone essentially tells us to get lost.

On a scale of 1-10 on the Clark-o-Meter, this one was an 8.

WWRD? (What Would Roger Do?)

2006-07-30T07:59:00.001-07:00

Well, even Roger has his serious days. This past Friday, sporting a brown buttoned up polo shirt and undoubtedly relieved to be off Queens power outage duty, he was on the Lower East Side reporting on a protest in progress to save St. Brigid's Church which was constructed in the wake of the Potato Famine by Irish shipbuilders for recent immigrants. In NYC, protests to save anything involving landmarks and especially endangered species (remember Pale Male?), are sure to bring out the most endearingly wacky that this city has to offer. In the case of St. Brigid's, there were the usuals wearing signs, beads and Birkenstocks. Rog interviewed a gentleman in a torn blue shirt, who protested the demolition by climbing to the top of the church and waving his hands in the air until he was handcuffed and issued a summons. In his interview with Clark, he reminded all Americans that we're still free to protest in such a way. Somehow I knew Rog wouldn't be joining him in any climbing. But Clark's report may have done some good. Demolition was stopped by a court until at least the end of August. That's our Roger!

Roger Clark: "Reporter Guy"

2006-07-27T12:59:00.000-07:00

He's got some rhymes in his interior.

The Man, The Myth, The Legend

2006-07-27T12:11:00.000-07:00

One dreary morning I was sitting on my couch, drinking my coffee, dreading the moment I had to head out the door to go to work. As usual, I turned on NY1, a channel only known to New Yorkers and primarily those who a) REALLY want to know the weather (it's always posted in the lower left hand corner of the screen) and b) like their newspapers read for them. Up until that one important morning on my couch, I had simply been a devotee of "Weather On the Ones" and "In the Papers." That day I was introduced to someone, something entirely new: a reporter named Roger Clark who clearly didn't mind making an ass out of himself in front of all five boroughs and coming up against his well-coiffed foil: Pat Kiernan. Who is this madman I thought as I watched Clark hurl himself to the ground for an awkwardly long game of paintball. Well that morning I learned. As you can see from his NY1 bio, Clark's been around for awhile. But the world can't go on without some type of dedication to the man who makes all of us feel better about ourselves. I give you...The World's First Roger Clark Fansite.
BELIEVE