ON TO THE NEXT

To keep consistent with my ranking metrics, I now present the best of television in 2005, in 13 parts.

This is trickier because I have to remember episodic television from the spring, which seems like it was so long ago as to not be in this calendar year.

Let me just give a shout-out to Comcast, who without their DVR, I would not be able to make this list. But then again, I don’t remember being tan this year either….

13. It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia – FX – A bastard child of improvisation and sketch comedy, this off-beat show about four friends in their late twenties who own a bar in the titular city, wasn’t always great. But when it hit, it was glorious.

12. E-Ring – NBC – I usually rail against formula in favor of innovation and creativity, but there is something about how regular and idealistically simple this is that I like. Maybe it’s the mix of government and military, maybe it’s the characters, maybe it’s that the show is not a Top Ten hit and there isn’t that kind of pressure for the producers, but it is a rather enjoyable, though formulaic, show.

11. Extreme Makeover: Home Edition – ABC – I never expected to admit this, but I guess enough people have caught me watching it that my secret is no longer fit to be kept. I like this show. Ok? There, I’ve said it. They are cheap assholes in how they play with the viewers’ heartstrings, but damnit, they change lives! I’ll take my share of shit from my readers, but c’mon, I have a heart.

10. How I Met Your Mother – CBS – It’s very inconsistent, but this show has it’s great moments. Neil Patrick Harris is hilarious as Barney, and he reminds me a lot of John Knowles. The Halloween episode was maybe the best half-hour of TV in October.

9. Joey – NBC – Again, I’ll take my lumps. I really enjoy this show. Drea de Matteo is great, and you can’t beat Jennifer Coolidge. There was a scene in the season finale in May that I watched about fifty times and laughed as hard the last time as the first one. Coolidge can do anything and I’d laugh. Matt LeBlanc is that lovable doofus from “Friends” still and I’m just not tired of it yet.

8. Two and a Half Men – CBS – I avoided this show like the plague for two years. Then, after constantly reading how good it was, I tried it this summer in reruns. I was won over. Charlie Sheen has great timing, and though I hate Jon Cryer, he’s good enough. There are some great laughs to be had with this show, believe it or not.

7. Threshold – CBS – Unfortunately this great show was canceled in November. It was a smart, captivating alien show, and I was sad to see it go with so many holes unfilled. This was one of the few shows who paid attention to continuity, and it didn’t go unnoticed. And I have a thing for Carla Gugino, really ever since “Son-In-Law.”

6. My Name is Earl – NBC – Jason Lee is so freakin likable, this was always destined to be a good show. Jaime Pressly is great as the white-trash Joy, and they really mine that world for some great laughs. The beauty pageant episode was near-perfect.

5. 24 – Fox – This show could be terrible and I’d watch every week. I love the intensity of the real-time format, and Kiefer Sutherland is great as the indomitable federal agent, Jack Bauer. Though much dramatic license is taken, they really make it all seem somewhat plausible. Crazy shit happens all the time, and this show reflects that.

4. Arrested Development – Fox – I’m really upset that Fox has nearly canceled this show and I hope it goes to ABC. I can’t blame Fox, because they kept in on-air amid terrible ratings for two-plus years. They may not have advertised it well, but at least we got this great show for as long as it was on. I’m holding out hope for the future, though, because it’s not time for this show to die. Everyone is great in their roles, especially David Cross, Jessica Walter, Michael Cera and Jason Bateman, oh, hell, everyone is perfectly cast, except maybe Portia de Rossi. I just don’t like her character much and they don’t give her much to do. But getting people like Scott Baio and Super Dave Osborn to be on in small but hilarious parts is the mark of a smart show.

3. Lost – ABC – No show was as suspenseful as Lost; a lost art has been revived and is done to perfection. The deep background that is this show is stunning. There are so many small details that make their way onto the show, online, in print, everywhere. It’s like a national game we’re all playing. Always clever, always intresting, always captivating, this show is one of my all-time favorites.

2. The Office – NBC – In the Spring, I thought this was a pretty good show but that the British version was clearly superior. Now, though, this version is the winner by a mile. Some of the funniest scenes on TV are on this show, and the characters are all great. They take chances, and while not everything works, I’d rather something risky than safe and tired. Steve Carrell is hilarious, but the best part of the show, is the relationship between Jim and Pam.

1. Rescue Me – FX – Denis Leary has created one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. I only liked “The Job” and didn’t watch it that much, but I don’t miss this show. The stories were so visceral it’s surprising; the acting great; the liberal use of bad language, a reality. What other show would use songs by Ray LaMontagne in the finale and not sound pretentious? Everything about this show is excellent. Can’t wait for the next season.

Honorable Mentions: Scrubs; The OC; Family Guy; Eyes; Reno 911; and Creature Comforts.

Huge Disappointments: Nip/Tuck, West Wing and Alias. How the mighty have fallen.

THIS WASN’T EASY

The time has come to list my favorite films of 2005. To qualify my list, I must say that I have not seen everything released in these twelve months, and so this is not a list of the best films, but rather just the ones I liked the most. It’s completely subjective, and films may appear based on technical qualities, performances, or the mood I was in when I saw them. It was difficult to winnow the list down to the arbitrary ten, so instead I present to you this list of 13.

Of all the movies released in 2005, I saw 48 of them, according to my quick count.

Here, first, are the films that I saw this year, minus the list-makers:

Rory O’Shea Was Here; Inside Deep Throat; The Jacket; Sin City; Fever Pitch; Sahara; The Amityville Horror; The Interpreter; Family Guy Presents: Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story; A Lot Like Love; The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy; House of Wax; Kingdom of Heaven; Mysterious Skin; Mr. & Mrs. Smith; Batman Begins; Heights; War of the Worlds; Wedding Crashers; 9 Songs; The Bad News Bears; Happy Endings; The Island; The Aristocrats; Red Eye; The Exorcism of Emily Rose; Proof; A History of Violence; The Squid & the Whale; Kissing on the Mouth*; Brick*; Havoc; Feast*; Jarhead; Derailed; King Kong.

* indicates that I saw this at the 2005 Chicago Film Festival, but that these films are not scheduled for release until 2006

And now for the list:

13. The Boys and Girl of County Clare – An Irish movie from March that chronicles a ciele music contest in Western Ireland, showcasing the rivalry between two groups of favorites. It made me wistful for the place; I miss Galway.

12. Hustle & Flow – A captivating story about a Memphis pimp who wants to break out into the music world. He has the chops, but can he “pimp” himself into a breakthrough? Great performance by Terrence Howard.

11. Melinda & Melinda – Woody Allen’s first 2005 entry, this was panned when it came out in March. The unusual storytelling device – telling the same basic story two different ways, with different groups of actors – takes some getting used to, but once you are acclimated, it is an enjoyable experiment. Except for Chloe Sevigny’s wooden and put-upon performance, the rest are great, especially Brooke Smith from “Series 7,” and Will Ferrell.

10. Millions – A great, and atypical, film from Danny Boyle. It’s primarily a family movie, about two brothers in England who just lost their mum. The younger brother escapes to a cardboard box fort in the field near their house and finds a bag of money. It’s currency on its way to being devalued before the turnover to the Euro (but what’s odd is that Britain didn’t change to the Euro, so I guess it requires a little blurring of reality). He thinks its from God. It’s hilarious in the way kids are funny, but it’s not exactly a comedy. It’s more bittersweet dramedy. And I just realized that one of the actors in it is Daisy from that new TBS show, “Daisy Does America.”

9. Imaginary Heroes – This technically had it’s qualifying awards run for a week at the end of 2004, but wasn’t released in earnest until February of this year. I saw it at the 2004 Chicago Film Festival, so this one is kind of hard to classify. I recently rewatched it on DVD. This is one of those suburban black comedies that sometimes hides behind its heavy (and many) themes. There’s some really funny stuff here, especially the “some will eat pudding” song. Sigourney Weaver and Emile Hirsch are great in this and it’s even more impressive when you find out that the writer-director, Dan Harris, who worked on X-Men and wrote the upcoming Superman, was 24 when he did this. I’m six months shy of that, and it floors me every time I think of it.

8. Capote – I have only one frame of reference of the real Truman Capote: the 1976 Neil Simon-penned spoof “Murder By Death.” In it, you get the feeling that he’s not exactly acting, but hamming it up as himself. He is very obnoxious. Phillip Seymour Hoffman is so good as Capote it’s eerie. His voice, his mannerisms, everything, are just like the real Truman from the film I saw. I read In Cold Blood in September, so that story was fresh in my head, and this film chronicles the writing of that book. (There is another Capote movie coming out next fall, currently called “Infamous” that tells almost the same story, but with a more accessible and recognizable cast: Bullock, Paltrow, the new Bond, etc.) The construct of this story is really airtight; the most important parts remain and all the detritus is lost.

7. The 40-Year-Old-Virgin – So many comedies are so unfunny anymore that this could have been half as good, and still been as successful. This was surprisingly a studio film, and the talent is uncommonly good. Judd Apatow honed his skills as a Ben Stiller acolyte, and made the great “Freaks and Geeks” and “Undeclared.” Both were short-lived TV shows, but here he’s used those skills and his subversive sense of humor and achieved monster success. Seth Rogen, who was in both his TV shows, co-wrote, -stars and –produces this film, and he’s hilarious. The perfect Jane Lynch gets me with her simple head-tilts and slightly odd pronunciations. Everything in this film was great, and they balanced the raunch with the heart quite nicely. I’m really looking forward to the upcoming project Apatow, Rogen and Paul Rudd are working on.

6. Me & You & Everyone We Know – From performance artist Miranda July comes this odd, atypical and beautiful story of how people meet and connect, and lead their own weird-ass lives. There are many inter-connected storylines here, which is the type of film that I usually love (“Magnolia,” “The Player,” “Cookie’s Fortune,” this year’s #1) and all the actors do a great job. The sense of humor here is razor-sharp, and the jokes are ones you never thought you’d hear. The little kid is excellent and the main story between July and John Hawkes is really well-done.

5. The Weather Man – Nicolas Cage, I think, is one of the best actors working today. I almost always like his performance, and have come to trust his judgment in film. The vehicles he picks for himself, usually, I will find entertaining or great. Here, he is paired with the always excellent Michael Caine, and the story is something you don’t often see in mainstream movies: a man struggling to be a better person, husband, father and son. He doesn’t have the life he was promised as a child, and he desperately wants to attain just a semblance of that. His daughter has problems, his dad is dying, his wife left him. These are not things he thinks will be easy to solve, yet he dives in headfirst to try to fix them. The cinematography is incredible and Chicago never looked so beautiful to me (in an overcast, gray-steel, kind of way). The humor, also, is biting. Gore Verbinski, despite the forgotten “Mousehunt” and the big-budget “Pirates of the Caribbean” franchise, is a director with a keen eye and makes regularly intelligent and enjoyable films. “The Mexican” and “The Ring” may have been weak in some aspects, but really looked sharp and beautiful.

4. Dear Frankie – Like “Imaginary Heroes,” this was at the Chicago Film Festival in ‘04, but released in America in March of ’05. This is a Scottish film with Emily Mortimer and Gerard Butler, and it’s female director, Shona Auerbach, I think, is destined for great things. There are a sad lack of female directors, and maybe with this film, she can expand her resume and make more gems. The last Scottish female director that I investigated was Lynne Ramsay, who was wildly acclaimed by critics, but made the horrible “Ratcatcher” and “Morvern Callar,” two films I hated so much I couldn’t finish. So imagine my surprise when Auerbach, who was compared to Ramsay, made a film I loved. The story sounds a bit tragicomic, but is balanced very well: A mother tells her deaf son that his father is a sailor on the HMS Accra, and is always at sea. The son charts the Accra around the world and discovers that the very real ship is docking nearby the next month. Since his father is actually not what she said he was, the mom hires a man to portray the father and spend half a day with the kid. Predictably, she gets more than she bargained for when the man becomes interested in the mom. The whole thing is better than I’m making it sound, and the acting is superb. But the real achievement here is the best cinematography I’ve seen in a long time; Scotland looks like heaven.

3. Walk the Line – Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon are incredible as the Cashes. They use their own vocals and they are both surprisingly great. Phoenix is creepy as Johnny Cash, sounding so much like him. I suppose that if you heard him singing and then heard Johnny Cash sing, they’d be very different, but Phoenix captures the accent, the guttural singing voice and the cadences really well. Witherspoon is perfect in this movie. I’ve only ever liked her, but here she proves herself to be worth all the hype. She should win the Oscar; she is gorgeous with brown hair and a tan, and her singing voice is really enjoyable. The story follows the predictable musician biopic format, in that Cash is a poor nothing, then gets a chance, makes it big, falls into drugs, cheats on his wife, etc. But like “Ray,” it adds to that formula a lot of heart, and the characters are really developed.

2. Murderball – The only documentary on this list. It amazes me the things I don’t know about. I consider myself reasonably intelligent, I read the papers, I pay attention, I watch a lot of TV and surf a lot of the net, and there are whole worlds out there that I have never heard about. Like the world of wheelchair rugby. It’s played by quadriplegics and it’s brutal. The goal is to get the ball across two lines to get a point. That’s the only rule. It’s like bumper cars where players ram into each other and knock people out of their chairs just to stop them from rolling across the lines. The film profiles the US Paralympic Wheelchair Rugby team up through the 2004 Athens games. We learn about the players and what caused them to become quads. A former player and controversial turncoat is profiled as well, as is a newly paralyzed 24-year-old who becomes interested in the sport. The players are really well showcased here; the things they say are blunt, tragic, hilarious. Mark Zupan is the most gregarious and memorable “character” in any film this year. They don’t want your pity or your stares; they want your respect for what they have achieved as Olympians.

1. Crash – My favorite film of the year was one I didn’t expect to like. The ads affected me negatively. My impression of the film was that it had recognizable names but was essentially a glorified TV movie. I saw it because I wanted to see a movie and not much else was out. I couldn’t have been more wrong. A film with intersecting storylines and characters, about one night in LA and the racism that percolates among everyone, just below the surface. The acting is unbelievable, especially Matt Dillon, Don Cheadle, Terrence Howard, Michael Pena and Ludacris(!). The writing is sharp, the stories are totally believable. The message may not itself be politically correct, that is if you can find just one. The gloves were really off and it was such an honest discussion of race in America. Sometimes political correctness devalues individual races by eliminating any distinguishing characteristics. Here, the “wrong” words and themes were the main story, and that was in a weird way, refreshing. But this film succeeds because while it deconstructs the race issues in this country, every character is assigned real and complex situations; every character is a deep person, one who is largely not defined, or rather inhibited, by his or her skin color. I think this film will live on for a long time.

There are many films I have yet to see that may very well replace one or more of these, or the order of this list. These include: The New World; Brokeback Mountain; Munich; Syriana; Good Night & Good Luck; Memoirs of a Geisha; Match Point; Harry Potter; Bee Season; Cinderella Man; March of the Penguins; Jesus is Magic; Breakfast on Pluto; Narnia; The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada; Cache.

I won’t see all of these, but these are films that have gotten either great reviews or a lot of press, and are thus the “important films.” I’m most excited to see The New World; Match Point; Jesus is Magic; and Syriana.

At some point I’ll do a list of my 5 worst films of the year. But not today.

ONE WEEK OUT

Taking a break from my vacation postings (a month after the fact, but hey, that’s me).

Last week, I had dinner with Emily at Taylor Brewing Company and we were talking about the things that are keeping us from feeling adult, or from growing up at all. She has some developments that are thrusting her into that realm without regard to what she wants, and I just am feeling stagnant.

As Will mentioned in his post about 2005, I also feel like this year was a placeholder of sorts. I got to travel to Australia and Europe, went to Iowa City, Carbondale, Champaign, Madison (a few times); made two movies with friends; went to a wedding and no funerals. This year was not devoid of activity. Yet for some reason I feel like those things did little to advance me into this world, into my future. I met few new people. I remain solitary. I hate my job.

2006 holds so much promise, as a new year always does a week before it begins. There are possible vacations ahead to places I’ve never been. I am probably starting graduate school in January – for a Master’s in Secondary Education. I hope to move out of my parents’ home in the next year, before my sister goes to college (it’s a pride thing). Big things seem on the horizon for me, and that feels good.

Emily has been trying to get me to find an outlet to write more. I have this blog, but I clearly never update it. She does this because for a couple years now I keep saying how I want to write something – a short story, a poem, a manuscript, a screenplay, anything – but I always have a reason why I can’t: I don’t have a laptop; I can’t clear my head; what kind of story could I write? Maybe this year I will resolve to just sit down and have a go at it. It might be shit, but then again, it might not. Then I can end this dichotomy of finding a way to avoid the subject and wondering if I could actually do it. I told Emily to get on my back about all these resolutions I keep throwing into the air. I want to go to the gym more often. I want to be healthier and in better shape. I want to read more books. I want to get better sleep. I want to jump in a car and go someplace spontaneously. Milwaukee, or the Dunes, maybe. I want to have plans for this year, something to always be looking forward to. I’m not a sad person, but I enjoy life so much more when there’s something exciting coming up. These are my (lofty?) New Year’s Resolutions. Last year, and every year before that, I pinned hopes like these up on the wall in my head and sat on the couch and watched January dissipate. It’s always the first month to go, and it leaves me impotent for the entire year. Maybe this time with these thoughts spewed out into space, I will have the rocks to go through with one. I have shame chasing my down an alley… I can’t afford to give it an inch.

THE FIRST LONG DAY

After landing at Heathrow, taking the tube to Earl's Court and checking our bags at the secure baggage closet at our hotel, we headed back to the Underground, and deciphered the train route to King's Cross. We had another leg of our trip to start already.

We got to the train station and instead of doing things the easy way, by going to the automated ticket counter, my dad insisted on waiting in line and speaking to the ticket agents, who told him information he already knew. We got our tickets to Grantham, England, and went to the spartan food court to get something of substance. The beginning of my frustrations with my mom emerged because she took literally ten minutes to get a buttered bagel. She didn't understand the money because she didn't take the two minutes to look at the currency in her guidebook, and we made the train with less than a minute until takeoff. I am hard on my parents, but my mom especially makes it easy to hate being in public with her.

I played with my new camera on the hourlong train ride, and my family tried to take a nap. The only other person in our car was directly across from us, and he and I started talking. You know the "where-are-you-froms." He said he was the head homicide investigator from Leeds, heading back home after a week in London investigating the murder of that female police officer who was shot in the back on her daughter's birthday. He said Leeds is the third largest city in the country and had a lot of crime. The July London bombers where from there, he said. I do not envy his job.

We got to Grantham and took a cab 2 miles to the castle Ray stayed in, Harlaxton. Built by a guy named Gregory Gregory, to out castle a nearby rival. There's a gold room. It has been retrofitted to house a couple hundred students, so some of it is less castle and more dorm, but it's still pretty flippin' surreal to live in a castle. We got the tour and then called a cab because we had to make a certain train.

We got back to London and had an afternoon meal at Casa Mama, an Italian restaurant we found. We had tried two pubs but it was between 3 and 5, and they don't serve food in that window. Plus my mom and sister don't like many kinds of food, so Italian it almost always is. I had the best lasagna I've every had; I have not had Mary's yet.

It started pouring and so after I fell asleep at the table, we stumbled back to the tube and to our hotel. We went down for a 3 hour nap. Long 36 hours....

WHAT A CARVER

I went to Boston Market today for lunch and the cashier, as I was hawing about which side item to order, interrupted me. "I'm sorry for the ignorant people," she said. I looked around and saw only two other people, an Asian father who couldn't speak English and his adult son, who could. I hadn't heard a word out of them. So I didn't know if she was calling them ignorant, or me, who lightheartedly said "damnit" when she told me, that at 2:01 I was too late for the lunch special. I just thought the whole thing was odd.

LANDING IN LONDON

Getting to the airport, on the El, is not as easy or as quick as it should be. I had to work on Wednesday, at least some of the day, because I had already used up all my vacation days and was using my floating holidays for this trip. American work schedules suck ass. I would later tell my astonished Irish relatives that I only get 10 vacation days a year, and they would tell me that by law, they get a minimum of 20, but almost always they get 25. That's five weeks off! That would be incredible.

I left work at 2, figuring that I had enough time to get to the airport and do all the international flight checks in time for a 5:15 takeoff. The El took upwards of 50 minutes to get to O'Hare, which might have been something I could have anticipated if I'd checked a CTA schedule. I looked at my watch about 25 times, which just annoyed me more. I finally got there and took the tram to Terminal 5, the international terminal. That makes sense, right? Except that American Airlines, regardless of where you are flying, leaves from Terminal 3. Now how exactly am I supposed to know to buck common sense when it comes to a certain airline? I walked up and down number 5, then asked an attendant who responded as if I were the stupidest person alive that I needed to be at 3, then I reboarded the tram and went there. I met my family at 3:45. They had gotten there a half hour before they said they would, so they waited for me even longer than they expected to. They had me paged twice, but I must have been on the trams when the call went out. This is exactly why I hate O'Hare, and why I was against the expansion plan. I really don't think the answer is to make the place bigger, more busy and more chaotic. Peotone would alleviate much of the south suburban traffic and allow for a much more cohesive airport experience. But that fight was lost. I'll move on.

We breezed through security and ended up waiting at the gate for a long time, like always. Michelle met a classmate and his mom, who were on our same flight. The plane took off half an hour late and we were in the stratosphere, flying over Nova Scotia and Greenland, places I may never otherwise get to mention. I watched "The Island" which was a lot better than the reviews made it out to be, and three episodes of "Two and a Half Men" which is one of my favorite sitcoms, but doesn't seem suitable for the general audiences on a flight.

The plane touched down at Heathrow at 7AM Thursday and we braved almost an hour waiting in line at customs. It was insane. I've never seen so many people in line so early at a customs station. Granted I've only been to three customs stations but it was insane. Flights from Bahrain and Qatar had just landed too so there were many visitors that appeared at the same time, trying to get into the country.

We got our luggage, got on the tube at Heathrow and hit rush hour. Long tube ride to Earl's Court, about 45 minutes. We transferred at Earl's Court and got off at West Brompton, then walked the half-mile to find our "motel." I say motel because it was one in comparison to London hotels. It had the rates of a motel (99 pounds a night, which is about $175, and that's cheap) and the space layout of a motel. The rooms were tiny, with two full beds in each and not much room to move around. Not all London hotel rooms have bathrooms (those that do are called "en suites"), but ours did. As part of a (smart) energy conservation movement, in order to turn on the lights, you have to put your keycard in a slot -- so you can't leave with your lights on -- and your toilet has two buttons, one for each type of waste, in order to use the right amount of water to flush.

We were all pretty exhausted after not sleeping, or not sleeping well, on our flight, but we hadn't time to nap. Our first day in London was starting, and we had a shitload to do.

A NIGHT AT THE OPERA

My friend Christine owed me money for the Chicago Film Festival and the play we went to, "The Glory of Living," so she called me on Friday and suggested she repay me by taking me to dinner at her new favorite restaurant, BlueWater Grill. She then said that her parents had opera tickets but couldn't go, so would I want to go to that afterwards? After hemming and hawing, becuase, you know, its the opera, I said, "sure, I guess." I had never been to an opera before and didn't place much of a premium on ever going. But a free ticket is a free ticket, and as I've said many a time, I'd see Carrot Top for $10. So I figured I'd see an opera for free.

We went to the restaurant, which is mainly seafood and sushi. It looked nice enough. I got the Blue Water Cocktail, which was only ok (I almost never drink cocktails, so I'm not accustomed to them, but I got it because Christine kept saying how great it was). Then I had the Golden Beet and Crusted Goat Cheese salad, which was great, and would be the best part of the meal. After that was the Sage Roasted Free Range Chicken, which was very disappointing. The skin was left on and it created this thick layer of cooked on fat that usually I would eat, but was so unappetizing in this case. The risotto was underwhelming as well. For desert, we got the Slice of Blue Water cake which is 12 layers of chocolate cake, graham cracker something and marshmallow, topped with a marshmallow topping. Sounded better than it was. It was basically cake-shaped sugar. And it was enormous. After a few bites, it got too sweet and that was the end of that.

If I go again, I'd get the lamb or filet. If you go, don't get the chicken.

Then we went to the Lyric Opera House on Wacker. The opera was Puccini's Manon Lescault. I was told it'd probably be a couple hours max. It ended up being THREE HOURS PLUS!!! The venue itself is really ornate and resplendant. But c'mon, sitting for three hours watching a play being sung in Italian is asking a little too much. Maybe I'm not as cultured as I thought.

What I thought was hilarious was that the docents or ushers or whatever they're called all have to wear these long velvet capes and gloves. This one obviously gay guy was standing by an exit over an air vent. During the intermissions (there were three) he would keep people from going down an exit hallway, but his cape was catching the air from the vent he was standing on and so it was flailing about everywhere, like he was a model and there was a big air fan in front of him. He looked like it was all he could do to keep from suddenly taking off in flight.

I told Christine that during the first act, I wasn't really paying attention and all I could think about was how I one day wanted to go to Transylvania. Who wouldn't want to go there, really? I'm totally serious.

All in all, I will never go to the opera again, but now I can cross it off my list as something I've done. It's just not for me.

HELLO FROM LONDON

I'm in Earl's Court Monday night, the night before I jet home. Ay, too short, it twas.

Dublin was just as I left it, but this time was a whirlwind. I have many pictures to post when I get home.

Heard from my sister that her weekend of vacation with just the 'rents was horrible. My weekend on the flip side was outrageous. Can't wait to write all about it. Maybe while I'm at it, I can get back and finish my second week in Sydney too. Oh boy oh boy, the shame of that....

OUTTA HERE

In less than 24 hours I'll be soaring on the back of a metal bird to London. I'm surprisingly apathetic toward this whole trip, mainly due to how dramatic the whole run-up has been. I am, however, mystified that I will board a plane here and wake up in a different country. I don't really understand space and time. Or the physics of flying, for that matter.

I know that once I'm onboard the AA flight (Flight 86... watch the news, just in case) I'll start getting geared up for this trip, but right now, meh. I wonder if the FBI will misread that parenthetical clause. Hope not.

I bought a digital camera over the weekend, so I'll be taking many photos, and I'll start posting some regularly. I was always envious of blogs with photos, but was too lazy to do it myself. Mr. Chips came over and showed me that digital photography is really rather simple.

I will also try to slip into an internet cafe and post a little somethin-somethin. That sounds retarded. If only I knew how to strike out text like the pros....

Well, kids, hold down the fort while I'm gone. This little dimly-lit alleyway of the blogosphere actually could use a little more traffic. Maybe I'll pick up some fans over in jolly ol' England.

Have a great Thanksgiving, and remember to plunder the Indians, send them West, kill any stragglers and relax over some pumpkin pie and cider. Oh and also, don't change the locks to America while I'm gone. I hate that.

TEDORTED

Saturday night I went downtown to see a play at the Profiles Theater, The Glory of Living. I had read a review in the Tribune a month ago, and it was quite the literary erection. (As Eric and Matt will remember, that is a phrase I coined, when I was on OTC drugs & hydrogen peroxide, and alcohol.) Quite.

The play was really good. I can count on one hand the number of professional plays I've seen, so it was a change of pace for me. Cool space, not large but tiny, and great story. It would make a great film.

The play is about this manipulating Southern man, Clint. He romances and marries an impressionable fifteen year-old girl and convinces her that the only way he can be satisfied anymore sexually is for him to bring back wayward girls, fuck them, and then have his wife murder them. It sounds tabloid, but it's not, partly because you know in your head somewhere that this is plausible in some sectors of this country and this society.

The actors who played the two main parts, Clint and Lisa, were great. It's still playing for a few more weeks, so if you have $22 sitting around, you should check it out.

SWEET-ASS OR NASTY?

Hmmmmmmmmm.

WINDBLOWN

Someone told me that we had winds today of 40mph. I responded, "yes, I know, and I was in them all morning."

Mary, Jeff and I went to Naperville to work on Matt's student film, "Flare Gun." This is a slightly retooled version of a short film made last Spring. Jeff is taking over for Eric, who starred in the original. Eric, too bad you don't live closer than Peoria. It'll be nice when you're more in the area in a half-year.
Mary replaces Kelsey, the seductive, smoky-voiced, coughing co-ed who played Maddie in April. Matt maintains his dual role of director and main character.

Yesterday we filmed what we could before the rain started falling. It wasn't all that much.

Today, we started the day hoping the weather would hold off. Almost immediately the wind gave us a warning. In every take, the wind is howling, screeching, tumbling. It was brutal. Added to the soundtrack was the continuous rumbling of cars driving past. We would scout out an opening in the traffic sound and then rush to take advantage of it. It was a long few hours, in which we only taped a few scenes that will eventually add up to maybe 30 seconds of the finished film. But at least it was fun, and produced dozens of material for inside jokes and great stories.

There is a possibility that Matt will not be pleased with the footage because of the wind, or how overcast it became early on, and dark.

I forgot how exhausting standing around pressing "record" is. I can sleep for 12 hours right now. But it's worth it.

IS THE SEASON OVER ALREADY?

My favorite new type of apple is Honey Crisp. I haven't seen this kind before; is it a newly modified hybrid or something? They're huge apples, have a slightly sour taste (not as sour as the American Pink Lady, but more sour than the great Australian Pink Lady), but they bruise very easily. You have to really go through a lot of them to find one good one. It's a time-consuming task, but it's worth it.

SOME WILL HAVE PUDDING

Metra fucking sucks. Halfway home tonight on the express train to LaGrange Road, the train inexplicably broke down. They kept promising that we'd be moving "in just five more minutes," but it took an hour before that was true. Then we moved at a snail's pace to Brookfield where we stopped again for fifteen minutes. Then finally LaGrange Road appeared and an hour and a half late, I disembarked. What a damn nightmare.

Then I went to Siam Kitchen for dinner. I liked it but I'm not convinced I wasn't the only one. But then again, Rama Chicken can have too much peanut sauce.

Ended the night with a screening of "Imaginary Heroes," my favorite movie from last year's Chicago Film Festival. I still thought it was good, but its leaps in time and story were pointed out. Some great black humor though. I still recommend it.

DOMESTIC DISTURBANCE

That last post took me an hour and a half to write. Mainly because I keep getting distracted by how much of a bitch my mom can be. Last year I was sick during Thanksgiving, though better by the time the turkey rolled around. Regardless, I was told in no uncertain terms that I could not attend either of my two family's Thanksgivings because I had been sick recently and therefore might spread it to everyone I come in contact with.

So I stuck it out at home, alone, watching the "Dinner for Five" marathon on IFC. Small consolation. I barely got any leftovers, because my idiot family didn't think to take much, and so my typical favorite holiday sucked ass.

This year, my family and I will be in London on Thanksgiving, visiting my cousin, Ray, who is studying in Grantham. So I'm missing my second T-Day in a row. This annoys me.

So I suggested to my grandma that we move Thanksgiving to the Sunday before the real day. Now, my mom is the oldest of five children. Four families of those five will not be here this Thanksgiving. My grandpa pipes up every month or so, saying that he wants every holiday, major or minor, to be a big family to-do because it may be his last... Labor Day or Arbor Day or whatever. It should be noted he is 79 at the end of November and in excellent health.

So I figured that since the vast majority of the family will be elsewhere on the holiday, we could reach a consensus to just change the date of the meal. Everyone seems to agree, but no one wants to have it at their house. My aunt June, who has the biggest house of all of us, though it's not that much bigger, is expected to have every holiday every year. But her house is being renovated right now. My father, sister and I routinely get into scrapes with my mom about why we NEVER have anything at our house. She always has a flimsy excuse at the ready, and when completely ridiculed, digs in her heals and maintains her ridiculous arguments. When it's during the school year (she's a middle school teacher), her excuse is that it's during the school year. When it's during the summer, it's that she has a garage sale coming up or she doesn't want to clean. Our house is hardly dirty, and we have cleaning ladies come every two weeks. Granted it's not in the condition that we could have a holiday meal here in the next half hour, but it would take minimal work to set up such an event. And we all help when she gives in and actually has something here.

So my grandma called and told my mom that she would cook the turkey but asked if we could have it here. My mom, as if she were automated, said unequivically that it cannot be at my house. So I asked her why not? She immediately started yelling at me saying that it's during the school year, blah blah blah. The "fight" was really between herself and her; I was not yelling, I was being yelled at. She told me that she wasn't yelling at me, but that she was reacting to my grandma's tone on the phone. I was right there when she was talking to her, and my grandma had no tone. She's such a bullshitter....

This comes on top of a fight the three of us had with her last week about our upcoming trip. Our plan was to go to England for two days, then go to Cork, Ireland for a day and then head to Dublin until the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, then home.

She was immediately resistant to it all, saying we need to cut most of it out, because there's no "downtime." We all have been to London, except my sister Michelle. I've been to Cork but my family and Ray have not. My family and I have been to Dublin, but Ray has not. We planned to go to Cork because we found a great fare on EasyJet from London, and also because I love that city and wanted them to see a place they haven't before -- the only one on the trip -- but mostly because my dad has been jonesing to go to the immigration museum at Cobh to inquire about getting documents related to his grandparents leaving Ireland for America. My mom, knowing all of this, wrote Cork off as totally unimportant because we are limited by time. She then tried to cut out Dublin entirely because we just saw four of our Irish relatives (out of maybe twenty-five) and that was enough. We saw them for half a day a couple weeks ago.

Frankly, she's full of shit. While I was only in London for two days, I feel like I've seen most of what I wanted to. I don't dislike the city, actually its the opposite. But because it is so insanely expensive, and because most of us have already been there -- including Ray, who is the whole reason we're going anywhere -- I think we should take whatever money we would spend on expensive lodging and sight-seeing, and go to Ireland where it's cheaper and somewhat more meaningful because we have family there and can show Ray around a place we love and know more about. This will be his only chance to see it while he's in Europe.

It is so frustrating dealing with a person so reticent to everything, always. All she wants to do is sit around watching "Law & Order" repeats she's seen before or shitty HGTV shows. It pisses me off even more because I know that this is how she works. She is so against everything from the start, but she warms up to it after a little bit. And had we stuck to our original travel plan, she might have been tired, but she would have loved everything about it and wouldn't have wanted to undo a minute. Over the years, I've just become a different traveller than my parents. Travelling without them is so much better, and even though I'm paying for my costs (which, by the way, she told me was my Christmas present this year -- me paying for my trip... how thoughtful!), I would tag along with them on a trip to anywhere. I'm always up for going someplace, even if it means there will be headaches incurred.

But man, why be a bitch?

A BUTTERSTICK OF JUSTICE

I missed a few months ago the news that a baby panda was born at the National Zoo in D.C. Since the pandas are "on loan" from China, the spawn is technically theirs, and so they get to name him. And according to the Chinese rules -- really, they have rules about this? -- pandas aren't offically named until their 100-day, er, birthday. I guess this is because then they can find something about the panda that speaks to them and proffers a fitting handle. But then Tish told Mary and I today that pandas have a high mortality rate and so they probably don't name them for that long in case they die. Don't want to mourn a named panda, that's for sure....

So the Chinese suggested five names: "Hua Sheng," "Tai Shan," "Qiang Qiang," "Sheng Hua," and "Long Shan."

Translated:

Hua Sheng = "China Washington"
Sheng Hua = "Washington China"
Tai Shan = "Peaceful Mountain"
Qiang Qiang = "Strong, Powerful"
Long Shan = "Dragon Mountain"

Why the hell would they suggest China Washington or Washington China? That's hilarious. And Dragon Mountain? What the fuck is that?

A popular alternative quickly appeared: "Butterstick," which means, simply, "Butterstick." It refers to his size at birth.

This whole thing strikes me as just-enough odd. Obviously pandas are endangered, and that provides for the weird Chinese rules regarding them -- like how big a deal it was when Nixon got the first one when we reopened relations with Beijing -- and they're so freakin cute. So, needless to say, I find this whole thing amusing.

But what I find hilarious is the blog movement for Butterstick to be nominated to the Supreme Court.

As for now, you can watch the NannyCam of Butterstick at the National Zoo. Happy voyuerism....

THE CRAZIES ARE OUT EARLY

Now I don't profess to be prescient, but I think that some liberals in the blogosphere are getting a little ahead of themselves. (I can't find the links right now, but will look later.)

Already, with reports in the NYTimes that the Veep was Scooter Libby's source of the fact that Joe Wilson's wife arranged for his assignment to Niger, bloggers are tripping over themselves to speculate on who is going to be appointed Vice President to replace him. They say it's neck and neck with Condi and Rudy. I say, hold your horses.

The information also suggests that Cheney didn't know her name or that she was undercover. Well, probably because she wasn't undercover.

More on this Wednesday, when I have some more time. Can't watch the game and type at the same time. Can't wait to see the comments....

ODDITY MAID IN A MINUTE

Ok, so I'm no good at puns. I'm not a fan of them anyway....

Is it just me or is it a little off-putting watching tonight's crazy World Series game and seeing Barbara and Neil Bush in every shot. They're right behind home plate, and they're always in the frame, though frequently out of focus. There's just something about these two American worlds colliding so much that is surprising. I know that politicians throw out the first pitch often, but having a former First Lady as a spectator (and the former President, tomorrow I'm sure) in your face all the time, watching a baseball game like she's a big fan, jars me a little. Anyone else?

I wonder if Mayor Daley is going to sit with and/or speak with former President Bush or whichever Bush shows up at tomorrow's game.

Bamn Dastards

Some asshole(s) egged my car last night. I still can't believe it.

Because my mom thinks the world revolves around her, she parks her car in the middle of our driveway, at the back door, for her convenience. Consequently, anyone who pulls a car into the driveway must park behind her. She did this at some point last night, and then later on, my sister came home and parked my car behind my mom's. I came home around 3, driving my dad's car, and parked his car behind mine, the back of the car nearly hanging over the sidewalk. It was 3AM, I was tired, and not wanting to wake up the entire neighborhood, I did not move the cars. Plus at that point, there was no reason to do so. And it would have been too late anyway.

My dad's car was not egged, so that means that my car was hit before I got home. And the fuckers really went to work on it; the front hood, the front windsheild, the back windshield, the passenger back window, all slimed with embryonic chicken yolk.

I woke up to hear that this had been perpetrated on my car and was "told" to clean it up. I figured my sister's friends did it, and therefore she should clean it up. She couldn't have cared less about the whole thing, which made me even angrier.

I spent, no joke, about 30 seconds trying to clean this shit off my car, resigning to the fact that it was cold, the egg had hardened and it wasn't coming off easily. So I took it to Fuller's where I paid $20 for a car wash. They got it all off, but where I had futiley attempted earlier, the wax-on, wax-off motions burned into the paint job, so those two spots on the hood are discolored now.

When my sister backed my car out of the garage in March and tore the front fender off clean in the process, we had to replace it. My dad is friends with a UPS driver who moonlights as a mechanic. Not a very good one, though. He did it in installments (work, not payment); I got a new bumper, albeit a black one for my silver car. I drove around in what looked like a junkyard hodgepodge for a couple months until Stan the Mechanic painted the bumper (and touched up the hood) silver. Fine. Until this morning.

Cars piss me off.

WHO WAS SECOND?

So Mohammed ElBaradei of the IAEA is a Nobel laureate. This is disappointing. While I don't think that the group's work and charge are undeserving of recognition, or that what they are doing is not of the utmost importance in the political games we play, but I don't feel that the track record of the group is worthy of this honor. I'm not referring to Iraq.

Of the nuclear news in the last few years or so, the IAEA has demonstrated not a lack of will or means, but a lack of results. Iran, North Korea, A.Q. Khan. Libya closed their nuclear shop because we intercepted a shipment of materials and strongarmed that result. The IAEA, while necessary, is just another bureaucracy. And we all know the many problems of bureaucracy.

I know the Nobel committee likes to send political messages, especially to the U.S. Like when Jimmy Carter won. While he had a record of deserving the prize, the reasons the committee gave were purely political and aimed directly at President Bush as we discussed the run-up to the Iraq War. This seems equally as political, considering the U.S. tried unsuccessfully to not renew ElBaradei's term at the IAEA earlier this year. It also seems like the committee is making a point regarding the inspector issue in Iraq.

And while the Peace Prize is the only Nobel prize that can be given during ongoing work, it seems past history has shown us that waiting for results of a "peace movement" is prudent. Like the mistake of giving the Prize to Arafat. For peace!

So by my own argument, it might be best to wait for the program to end before rewarding Sen. Lugar and former Sen. Nunn for their work to round up all the missing nuclear material around the world. Same with Bono for all his work to raise awareness on the issues plaguing Africa.

I don't know who would have been a better choice this year, but I would not have voted for this one.

THE WORLD WE LIVE IN

Since the nomination of Harriet Miers to the SCOTUS on Monday, a blog was created to monitor the road to confirmation. It mocks her, and it is hilarious.

Especially funny are the criticisms of The Note, ABC's daily political news roundup. It is too long. Fake-Harriet Miers has it right. It's a good source of info, but too damn long.... You should have seen it when the election last year was reaching its boiling point.

More on this nomination in a later post....

A MISTAKE OR A GREAT CHESS MOVE?

President Bush has nominated his White House Counsel Harriet Miers to replace Justice Sandra Day-O'Connor on the SCOTUS. I'm yet unsure if this was a good thing or a bad appointment.

On one hand, she was once a democrat and is now a republican, so the conventional wisdom is that she is a moderate. So this may be a one-for-one trade and the balance of the court will remain the same. Or so the theory goes. She seems smart, capable, and would provide another female to the court, which I believe was important.

I would have liked to have seen a female minority, preferrably an Hispanic, nominated, but we can't all win.

On the other hand, she is not, nor has been, a judge. Her experience is solely as a lawyer. This does not disqualify her of course, but it seems like it flies in the face of recent tradition. I heard Orrin Hatch earlier say this was another type of diversity on the court, providing another avenue of experience. I can be persuaded of that. But my real concern is that she got the nod because she is loyal to Bush. Was she the most qualified? Was she even the most qualified woman? I don't know the answers to those. But I would not want another example of political cronyism to result in a huge job promotion. Anyone remember FEMA's Mike Brown? Vince Foster? American government is littered with sweet political appointments that might be undeserved (from both parties, throughout time; this is nothing new). What does it matter if Bush likes Miers? Or that she has been loyal to him?

She once told David Frum that President Bush is the most brilliant man she has ever met. Exsquese me? I believe he is smarter than he gets credit for, and the perpetuates the assumption of his stupidity for low-political expectations, and we know he was smarter than John Kerry from their pretty-unimportant Yale grades, but I take great issue with Miers's classification of our president. She may be the only person in the world to have ever said such a thing.

ALIEN TRIFECTA

The television networks have been unloading their new shows on us unassuming Americans the last few weeks. Well, I guess we were assuming, since this happens every year.

Among the new shows are three options trying to serve the "Lost" crowd: supernatural-themed thrillers. There is "Threshold" on CBS, the number one network; there is "Surface" on NBC, the fallen giant in desperate need of a big hit again; and there is the "Lost" heir-apparent, "Invasion."

I've seen all three shows since they began and am up-to-date. I have already stopped watching "Surface" because it is a waste of time. I do not like Lake Bell, or the story, and feel I can see the same kind of material done better elsewhere. Too bad NBC keeps striking out. What will it take?

"Invasion" is alright, though there is very little exposition in the show. I like the cast and the setup, but there are mysteries all over the place and almost no resolution, even on the most basic level. I will stick with it, if only on my DVR, for awhile to see if it can win me over.

The best of the three, I think, is "Threshold." The cast is great, with Peter Dinklage, Carla Gugino, and that guy from Independence Day who was the doctor and was doing the autopsy on the alien and was pushed up against the glass and used as the vessel through with the alien speaks to Will Smith through the glass. Plus, they treat the material intelligently. I think this is because David Goyer is behind the show. He is the comic book messiah who was behind Blade, Batman Begins, etc. They refer back to things like the others do not, and don't sloppily leave plots hanging. Plus, they show just enough of the problem, i.e. the aliens, to intrigue but not ruin. The other shows just do not show enough of the hand they are holding. They render the audience, or maybe just me, uninterested. I had the benefit of watching the first four episodes back-to-back this weekend while I was sick, thanks to my DVR. I'm telling you nonbelievers, get this device. It only costs $10 from Comcast. And for all I know there is a better deal out there.

Has anyone else seen any of these shows? What do you think?

And what of the new season, if anything, have you caught, and what do you like? Dislike?

THE HOTTEST MYSTERY

An Update: The Hottest Woman in the World has been absent from the train platform for a few weeks now. I assumed that she went on maternity leave and/or had her baby. She only occasionally returned to my thoughts, when I would walk the platform in the morning to wait for the train.

Until yesterday. I went to Oak Brook to return some bullshit headphones I bought at the Apple Store. And when I walked up the stairs from the parking garage, who do I see? Her, and Johnny Hemmesch. And a stroller. So I have a whole new layer of mystery to solve.

Johnny is a year younger than me, and mystery woman looks a year or two older. It is possible that she is Johnny's wife, I suppose, but I would be a little surprised.

Johnny has an older sister, Annie. The problem is that the Annie that I used to know ten years ago doesn't look like the woman in question. This is also possible, I suppose, but I would again be a little surprised.

But this is in line with what I privately thought I saw before: that the mystery woman would sit with Mr. Hemmesh on occasion on the train. So he sat with his daughter, or his son's wife. Hmmmmmm.

AN ODE TO THE JAPANESE

Well, like my elder, I am also hooked on Sudoku. I bought a book of it a couple months ago and do them on the train to and from work. It's a good way to wake up but on the way home, when I'm tired and just want to take a nap, I can't seem to stop putting numbers in boxes.

I can do the easy ones, well, easily, but I'm stuck on some of the moderates. I keep thinking there must be a technique I don't know about (like so many things in my life, I suppose) and if I just stare at it long enough I'll figure it out, like a world-weary detective trying to help a damsel in distress in a poorly-lit one-room office, at night, cigar smoking in the ashtray. Ok, a little dramatic and ridiculous, yes, but I lead a relatively boring life right now.

Anyway, for all you naysayers out there laughing at me right now, just try one. You'll get hooked.

DID YOU SEE THAT LIGHTNING?

Has it really been since September 12th that I last posted? That's unbelievable! Yet believable.

Thanks Eric, for the kick in the ass.

So, you caught me, I'm posting in the middle of the afternoon on a Monday. I took the day off today, because I'm still sick, though I feel a lot better now, almost back to normal, than I did before. I earned a sick day, I feel, and since I couldn't take one last week on account of there being so much to do, when I actually needed it, I'm taking it today. And in all fairness (to whom? To me...) I am really still sick. I needed to sleep until 10:30 today. Yes, that's the ticket.

But I'm also using this time to take care of some unfinished business. I'm going online and getting the grad school applications, printing them or submitting them electronically, and getting my future begun. How's that for awkward phrasing?

So, I will post a little bit more today, but first, applications call....

YOU LEFT WITHOUT LEAVING

I suppose it is appropriate to weigh in on the New Orleans tragedy. It is now my turn. I have been tossing around many thoughts in my head since it happened, and to be honest, nothing much makes any more sense as removed as today is. While Jeff sees use in playing the "blame game," I feel that it is premature to do so, for the simple reason that we don't have the full information. I think that what Jeff means is that it is useful to pinpoint the fissures in the levee (metaphorically speaking... too soon?) in the attempt to end the problems sooner than in some delayed after-action analysis, and that I think is a good thing, but I call that something different than the blame game. I think real blame and consequences must be assigned to those at fault, and it seems to me, from inasmuch as has been made public and has found its way to me, that all levels of government deserve condemnation. But this kind of analysis can best be done in a couple months when the immediate chaos is calmed. I think Congress is already planning hearings, so it won't be long before the whole blame process begins anyway.

The effect of Hurricane Katrina, I think, is unforgivable. I mean that decades of government stupidity allowed New Orleans to find itself in the form it drowned in. The hurricane came and went with damage, sure, but the levee break was the day after the storm and due to man-made factors. It is not simply a matter of funding allocation, because the Chief of the Army Corps of Engineers said that the levee(s) that broke had already been upgraded according to the plans that were being funded by the Feds. The problem is that they were only ever built for a Level 3. What sense does that make? If we're going to spend the billions of dollars it costs over ten years then lets actually spend our money wisely.

I do not understand why the mayor of New Orleans didn't bus the poor and infirm out of the city before the storm hit. Obviously the bulk of the damage was from the flood, which was not foreseen as tied to Katrina, not explicitly anyway, but always hypothetically. There was time and opportunity to save the people that died. Sure, there would always be people who refuse to leave, like there are now, but there would have been so many less people caught below sea level when the wall of water came. It's so easy to say this in hindsight, I know, but the lack of planning at the local level is truly astounding. I agree that the lack of planning at the state and federal levels was astounding as well, but ultimately the mayor is responsible for his city, as her first "responder."

The human stories that emerged from this disaster, much like those from four years ago, are really remarkable. Like 6-year old Deamonte Love leading five little children like ducklings away from hell. How do you remain a child after that? I hope someone provides him a college scholarship or something. I hope Extreme Home Makeover gives the Love family a castle, or an island.

The sight of a submerged American city was disturbing. For selfish reasons I was upset because I'll now never see The Big Easy. Even if it is rebuilt, the original is really gone forever. But it seems that on a long-enough timeline, each great city in our country will be felled by something or someone. On the train during that first week, I kept thinking what would cause Chicago's destruction. Fire did it once, but nowadays fire is really a second-class disaster. Mother Nature got wiser with age. Besides we have a whole lake to drop on a fire. Whatever it is, I hope I'm not caught downtown when it happens. I imagine having to walk the nineteen miles to my parents' suburban refuge among the masses heading west, in the dark, with faces covered in Apocalyptic dirt and fear the only emotion visible. I wonder what my iPod evacuation playlist would include. What are some good "War of the Worlds" tunes that can soundtrack my escape to salvation? Flippant, maybe, but it's a hard question to answer.

I expect the full 9/11-style government investigations and some bold government restructuring that is destined to make us safer... at least until it is tested in a real-life event. As I've said before, I would welcome a full "national audit" of our checkbook. I don't think President Bush follows the financial tenets of his ideology. Just look at the national debt. I expect much less than what I just suggested, but I expect some hard questions to be asked, and I foolishly expect something resembling answers.

I LIKE THIS FEELING!!!

Here I am in Ann Arbor (she is still a whore). I drove up with my aunt, uncle and sister last night and was way-layed with many scents of skunk. We were just coming up for a couple days and didn't have plans to go to the Michigan - NIU game yesterday but my other aunt who had tickets, forced them on me and Michelle. It was our first time in the Big House and it was glorious. Michigan won but those Huskies put up a good fight. During the game the scoreboard showed that Rutgers beat Illinois by three but then later I found out that the Illini actually won by three in overtime. I was annoyed at the prospect that Ron Zook couldn't improve on Ron Turner's failure.

Before the game we went to eat at Krazy Jim's Blimpy Burger, which I read was rated the second-best onion rings in the country. It was in GQ in August, and we had to try it. It was a really long wait and they were quasi-rude like Ed Debevic's. We decided that while the food was good, the rankings must have been written by some sack-less reviewer who had a total bias against Chicago. He said that no burgers in Chicago were very good. Fool.

Anyway, so after the game, we went out for dinner at the Macaroni Grill. In the parking lot I tripped and fell on the blacktop, messing up my new Cubs Tshirt and skinning my elbow. I'm such an idiot.

My cousin Caroline's boyfriend Jon was having a party, featuring a game he made up called "The Clinic." I didn't really understand it, and I did not participate. I felt so damn old at the party. I don't remember being that young in college, but damn do I miss it. The environment, the parties, the schedule on delay -- waking up late in the morning and going to sleep at four am.

At the party, people were playing original Nintendo and playing The Clinic. Frank, my 15-year old cousin, tagged along, and sneaked sips of beer here and there. He overplayed it and pretended he was drunk, but it was clear it was more an act than not. My sister Michelle also played along, and she got totally blasted. She went to get some pizza and the little Middle Eastern guy, who barely spoke much English couldn't stop laughing at her, which caused her to laugh, because she knew he knew she was drunk. The story was hilarious. Michelle later said to no one in particular, "I like this feeling!!!" She didn't have that much, but since she never drinks it hit her harder than expected. It made me a little uneasy seeing her like that, and I tried to cut her off repeatedly.

Right now we're watching Chappelle's Show and falling asleep. Time to go. It was a good 36 hours in Michigan.

THE LAST WEEK IN AUGUST

Around this time of year I feel sentimental and stir-crazy. I know that's an odd mixture, but that's the way it is.

In the past this last week in August brought with it the overarching feeling of something new. While it usually meant school, it was the sense of something beginning that got me revved up. Nine months layed bare before me, open to everything I could dream up. And last August this peculiar feeling first overcame me, and I didn't quite know what it was. I didn't have to make a haul down to Champaign, or buy books, or perform any apartment duties. I just rolled from August 31st to September 1st with nary a lost wink of sleep. It was simply a new day, but something felt different. I missed that beginning of something new. Even though it was school, something I generally didn't like, the fact that I was not experiencing some kind of change caught me like I didn't expect it to.

Today, stuck where I am without any change or beginning on the horizon, I find myself once again, feeling nostalgic and annoyed.

I'm filling this "void" this week by keeping busy. I'm busier than I have been all summer and it is all absolutely calculated.

This is not a post revealing any kind of deep depression, not at all. Just an awareness that I'm continuing on my course, like it or not, on a road that leads to somewhere I don't know, without an exit in sight. Nothing is changing this fall, nothing large anyway.

What to do....

RAY, GONE AWAY

My cousin Ray left last Thursday for a semester in England. He is studying in a castle, once owned by Stanford, now by Univ. of Evansville; the joint has a pub in the basement and room entirely of gold. Pretty sweet. It's in Grantham, England, a hundred miles or so NW of London.

My family is going to visit him over Thanksgiving (good rates, decent (enough) weather) and I cannot wait. I only saw Ray twice this summer, on his first day back from his first year of college at our cousin's First Communion party in May, and again on the night before he left for another continent, but I'm gonna miss that kid. I really wanted to use the word "first" as many times as possible without the sentence breaking of its own weight. I think I succeeded.

A POTATO WITH LEGS

This weekend I remembered that I wasn’t aware of all the channels we pay for by having Comcast’s Digital Classic. I convinced my parents to get it because I wanted IFC and BBC, and it wasn’t a hard sell because my mom was suddenly without her West Wing fix since Bravo was moved from the basic cable package. So I looked up what other channels we get and one is Discovery Channel Health.

I scrolled the guide to see what that channel aired, and saw one program, and set it to record: 200-Pound Tumor. Now I really didn’t know what to expect besides what promised to be something disgusting. I was not disappointed.

Lori Hoogewind, a forty-something woman from Wyoming, Michigan, has a debilitating disease called neurofibromatosis, or NF, which causes tumors to grow on her body. Since childhood, she has had many – many! – tumors, always benign, that just showed up. She had a malignant tumor in the mid-90’s and her doctors used radiation to attempt to shrink it. The radiation worked on the malignant one, but it caused the adverse reaction on another benign one. As a result, a tumor grew to two hundred pounds in less than a year. The tumor was on the right side of her stomach and grew over on to her back. It dragged on the floor. It was unbelievably huge. She weighed only 120-lbs. and all of a sudden she had to drag an additional two hundred pounds. Her tumor was drawing dangerous amounts of blood from her organs and eventually began affecting her brain.

No doctor wanted to go near the thing, because of all the inherent risks associated with a removal surgery. Finally, doctors at the University of Chicago agreed to operate. This was the biggest tumor ever removed. Because there were so many blood vessels feeding the tumor, it was a very difficult surgery, and lasted 18 hours. The cameras showed the tumor during the surgery and it looked so disgusting. Like raw meat. The surgery was successful, and I cannot imagine what the experience must have been like for all involved.

Since then, the doctor who removed the tumor has gone on to similar surgeries pro bono, most recently for a woman in Transylvania who had the same disease. What a crazy life, to constantly grow tumors all over your body. Horrible, actually.

GET ME A WETNAP

On Saturday, I went to the Morton Arboretum to see the Gin Blossoms. Remember them? I can’t believe it’s been ten years plus since “Hey Jealousy” came out. I still think back to a mix tape I had from that period that introduced me to the Gin Blossoms, the Counting Crows, Cracker, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, etc. It was such a great time for music. We haven’t, in my opinion, matched it since.

So the Arboretum is trying to fashion itself the Ravinia of the West. I think this is their first summer of live music. It was really cool; very serene and calm and lush, and the acoustics were phenomenal. The grounds where the concert was were not very large, which is understandable, since the space was not created with concerts in mind.

Some no-name piece-of-shit band opened; their name didn’t stick. Then the Blossoms took the stage and rocked immediately. They apparently have a new CD coming out in the fall, but they only played a couple songs from it; the rest were mainly from New Miserable Experience and their earlier EP. Songs like “Hey Jealousy,” “Allison Road,” “’Til I Hear it From You” from the Empire Records soundtrack, and “Follow You Down,” from Congratulations I’m Sorry. They didn’t play my two favorites: “Mrs. Rita” and “Competition Smile.” But overall it was a great show.

I’ve been in a nineties music phase lately. I went to the Vertical Horizon concert a few weeks ago. When I’m there listening to this old music, I remember the Jeff of that period, and it brings a smile to my face. Being a kid again. Feels nice for an hour and a half.

Robin Wilson, the lead singer/songwriter, kept self-effacingly referring to the concert as being at a Ribfest. He recognizes that what goes up must come down and after they had the most played video of the year when Empire Records came out (the filmstrip video for “’Til I Hear it From You”) they were destined to fall out of immense popularity and probably did make the Ribfest circuit. He ended the show by saying next time they’d play at a better Ribfest. I laughed and laughed.

Now if I can just get another chance to see Blessid Union of Souls….

HIGHWAY ROBBERY

I am very disappointed in President Bush and all elected members of Congress. I live in the Greatest Country on Earth, and I expected better. Much better. Let me explain.

Congress was spurred from their mind-numbingly deliberative process (read: tortoise-paced progress) in July by the Roberts nomination and their impending August recess. In order to clear the docket for the fall, and to finally vote on long-gestating legislation (read: to get something done), many bills were hurried into passage directly before they jetted home to their districts for five weeks.

The highway bill is maybe the most egregious. Loaded with more pork than a luau crawl, the bill ended up costing much more than the president wanted, and much more than is fiscally responsible. Bush took the extraordinary step (for him) of threatening to veto any final amount over $256 billion. The bill came in at $286.5 billion and Bush signed it wearing a huge, shit-eating grin.

Transportation bills are renewed every six years, so this money is allocated from now until 2009 (this is the 2003 bill, just passed two years late). The money comes from an 18-cent/gallon tax we pay at the pump. The bill contains more than 6,000 special projects for individual Congressional members (a.k.a. pork). Thanks to the Speaker of the House and the Senate Minority Whip both representing Illinois, we ranked third among all states in allocated monies. Alaska was number one with only three representatives in Congress, but they are very powerful. One senator is the president pro tem of the Senate and Alaska’s lone congressman is chairman of the House Transportation Committee.

I’m not against paying for new roads or replacing others, or building bridges and paying for transportation needs. I’m proud that America has such a great interstate highway system (thanks to Eisenhower) and the best quality roads in the world. I’m a big believer in baptism by road-trip.

What I’m railing against is the wasting of money. Not only are we running a deficit right now, and we’re the bitch of countries like China that hold our debts, but we are facing an oil crisis. While we’ve had way worse oil crises before, $3 a gallon is nothing to scoff at. More than that though is the sheer amount of ridiculous funding approved in this bill. Among the worst: Alaska’s Congressman got a $315 million bridge, as long as the Golden Gate and taller than the Brooklyn, to connect the tiny town of Ketchikan (pop: 8,000) to the even tinier Gravina Island (pop: 50). The bridge will replace a 7-minute ferry ride. What a waste!

It seems to me that any project not related to interstate travel or interstate anything should be billed to the state and not the federal government.

In Chicago, almost $1 million went to the Chicago Children’s Museum at Navy Pier, for a transportation exhibit. Please, someone, explain this me. What an egregious use of our money.

And this is just the highway bill. They also passed new energy legislation. The media can only cover so much, so I ask myself, what was hidden in the weeds?

The Republicans are supposed to be the ones fighting against this type of spending. Historically, the GOP is against excessive taxes and big government. Could have fooled me. I suppose that when money is involved, everyone is corruptible.

WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST...

I have decided to change the url to my place on the web. It just seems shortsighted to put my full name out there into the world at large. While I periodically Google myself to see if anything comes up, and my previous blog url never did, I cannot accept that as a rule of this universe. I simply cannot take any chances anymore; I've gotten by on my looks for far too long.

I know that I missed informing many of you, mainly because I don't have your email addresses. And for all you fuckers who leave anonymous comments, well, leave some more! I love 'em.

Re: Tommy's rad idea of underground tarmacs and mechanical openings, as a way to save valuable O'Hare space: I think that's genius. Too bad it might only work in a cartoon, though.

And now back to our programming, already in progress....

THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS

I read an article today about a near catastrophe at O'Hare on Wednesday. When President Bush came to town to sign that boondoggle of a transportation bill, he landed at O'Hare and then took Marine One to Montgomery, IL, outside of Aurora. While he was taking off on the chopper from a "remote northern airstrip," two advance helicopters carrying press and administration officials were flying low on their way to the site.

A 747 was preparing to land and apparently had to swerve when the pilots saw the two choppers below. It is unclear as to what really happened, though, so I may have the story wrong. No one was hurt.

But this bullshit about O'Hare expansion is turning into insanity. While our "leaders" sit back and argue ad nauseum and gavel the meetings before anything gets done, we live here with dangerous conditions at the world's busiest airport. The solution is NOT to make it bigger.

The plans up for debate involve kicking people out of their homes (while low-balling the prices of their properties) and building another airstrip. Yeah, that'll do a whole hell of a lot. The problem isn't so much capacity as it is rampant disorganization. There is not enough room for what O'Hare provides, this is true to a degree, but that's no excuse for dangerous runway configuration and all the other problems that force me to sit, taxiing, for an hour every time I go somewhere.

I'm against the expansion plan primarily, but not exclusively, because the current proposal provides Mayor Daley with condemnation power outside of the city of Chicago. This is unconstitutional. Daley cannot condemn a property in a city that he is not accountable to. The condemned cannot vote him out of office. They have no standing in that situation.

There is no downside to building a third airport in Peotone. We need it badly. Having the "South Suburban" airport will allow people who live in the southern suburbs and south western suburbs as well as people who may live closer to Peotone than Midway to fly out without adding to the already immense congestion. I believe that part of the plan provides for a road to be built connecting I-57 to the south suburbs, not including I-80. The local economy of Peotone will boom overnight. I think we need to focus on the safety of passengers as opposed to any perceived benefit to local congressmen in the O'Hare neck of the woods. Furthermore, one would think that airlines would be for a Peotone airport because it would mean better efficiency at all airports and happier customers, which will always lead to more tickets bought.

Maybe I have my armchair economics incorrect, but it seems sensical to me.

LET'S NOT DISCUSS IT

I don't want to talk about the Cubs. One win after an eight-game losing streak does not make up for things.

Dusty, be a fucking manager already, and manage!

MULTI-TASKING?

When did Greg Kot start working for Entertainment Weekly? And if he's leaving the Tribune for EW, it sucks that he has to limit his reviews and articles and words to more mainstream, commercial stuff and kind of steer clear of what we all know he prefers. He currently has the review of Faith Hill's new CD in EW. I don't know which print edition it is in, last week's or next week's, but it's online now.

Can he work for both media companies, Tribune Media Services and AOL Time Warner? Isn't there an inherent conflict of interest? I did a news search on Google News of Kot's name and an article in the Trib came up but it was dated last week, so maybe he left Chicago to go national? But then I saw that the same article in the Trib was picked up and printed in a San Diego paper. So he technically already was national.

This is not a good development for the Tribune if true. But maybe he just needed to shake things up a little bit. Or maybe it was about money. Or maybe he got into a nasty fight with an editor or the publisher and some harsh evil words were had. Hmmmmmmm.

MY BRAIN

It was Sunday night. I tend to curse weekends, or Sunday nights in particular, because in just two days I am able to throw off my entire sleep schedule so completely, that I am always a zombie on Monday. I lay there in bed, tossing and turning, at one, two, three in the morning, not at all tired, and completely unable to force myself to sleep.

Usually when I reach a certain period of sleeplessness, say deep in the middle of the night, some term or question gets caught in my brain, unable to get free, like I have an FCC-approved version of Tourette's Syndrome. I remember one time during freshman year of college when I couldn't stop asking myself some question about Steven Soderbergh's filmography. I didn't know it very well and I couldn't remember which came first, The Limey or Out of Sight, or maybe it was Erin Brockovich/Traffic related. Who the fuck cares now? But it was pissing me off for totally unknown reasons. I finally fell asleep, annoyed.

Or there was the time two years ago when I couldn't get the words "The Maldives" out of my head to saunter off to slumber. The evil midget bastard inside my head kept repeating it like on a broken record all night. I should have just punched him; that would have knocked me into a nice sleep.

On Sunday, it happened again. I couldn't stop thinking about the words "mortar & pestle." Without the sexual overtones, of course. This was only an exercise in language.

I had seen a set at IKEA that day and I don't often see mortars and pestles. They make me think that if I ever used one, I'd feel like a caveman. They're so primitive.

Anyway, I was stuck in a rut, looking for a groove. I couldn't find one.

Damn those spice tools; how they keep me up at night!

WORKING RETIREMENT & BASTARD POLITICAL SPOUSES

I read recently that retiring Supreme Court Associate Justice Sandra Day O'Connor is going to co-chair with former Sen. Bill Bradley an American Bar Association Commission on Civic Education and the Separation of Powers. It seems that the majority of Americans know shit about our government. Seems ending those high school civics classes graduation requirements was a big mistake.

I am really unclear as to what exactly this group will do. They have absolutely no power to change anything. Are they just going to go around the country telling us all how stupid we are? Are they going to walk into churches and offices and other places adults congregate and pop-quiz them, "Jay-walking" style? Is this going to be made into a direct-to-infomercial video that we stupid Americans can buy so we can laugh at other stupid Americans? Seems kind of a futile thing to work on. Unless of course they're going to work with each state legislature to reinstate civics requirements in high school curriculums. That's useful. But that's not what this appears to be.

My take: go to someplace warm and sleep in a little and enjoy retirement.

This all was thrust back in my face the other day when I read an article in a New York paper about Jeanine Pirro announcing her candidacy for U.S. Senate. It seems Pirro (the Westchester County DA for the last three terms) has a white-collar felon for a husband. He was convicted of tax evasion and other similar crimes and spent 11 months in jail. All while she was an elected DA. Her name was dragged through the mud and her finances and questions about her luxury cars (Ferraris and Bentleys) and wrought-iron pigpen (for their pet pigs) arose. It seems she has mollified her critics sufficiently on those issues. None of it is stopping her from running, and appears not to be unseemly character traits for public officials, at least not anymore.

Long story short, the article referred to Pirro's maybe opponent Hillary Clinton (Pirro has to win the primary first) as having husband baggage of her own. The paper wrote that her husband, former President Bill Clinton, was "nearly impeached." (Quotes mine because I don't have an italics command, damn work blogger.) If I remember correctly, he was the first elected president impeached. He was not, however, removed from office. It seems such a simple thing to get correct, and that copyeditors or editors or anyone who looks at the raw material of a newspaper, especially on such an high-profile announcement story, would have caught the obvious error. Clearly no one had to take a civics class.

But about the general matchup, Hillary is in no position to bring up husbands. It's like a no-lose for Pirro. She has this scumbag husband, someone whose existence would have precluded her aspirations for public office in the past, but if Hillary opens the door by attacking he-Pirro (don't know his name), she opens the door to much more about her own husband, and we all know there is plenty of material there.

Frankly, since America was sold on Bill in 1992 as getting "two for the price of one," and since Hillary acted with more authority as any First Lady in history, unlawfully perhaps, we can get an idea as to the type of president she would be. But that really doesn't apply to a Senate race.

It seems that Pirro will win the primary, unless the walls come tumbling down between now and March. It is going to be a dynamite election season, not the least of which will involve two intelligent, ambitious, political veterans duking it out in New York.

THE SULLIVAN SHOW

Mary and Jeff returned from the antipodean climate they have been in for six months. They got back on Monday, which probably felt like Tuesday to them, and have been sleeping at weird times since. I was going to go out with them on Wednesday night, but I was very tired and had to be on my game at work the next day. I had a useless data entry task to work on and had to make progress, since I'd been putting it off for awhile.

So Thursday night I got to see them, over at Mary's sister's house in Willow Springs. Krissy (Sullivan) is pregnant and her husband Pat (who is probably reading this right... now) are having a baby in a couple weeks, and Krissy is carrying around this baby in her belly that looks totally fake. I don't remember seeing many of my aunts really pregnant like this, so this may be the first time I've seen up close a woman so pregnant. I'm telling you her belly looks like a special effect. It's weird and fascinating.

So Jeff and Mary were telling me about Thailand in between their eight-o-clock yawns and showing me pictures of a place that at once looks beautiful and also a clusterfuck, or an attempt at organized chaos. A beautful clusterfuck. Bangkok looks insane, like there's no room to breathe, and apparently there are no rules of the road either. There may be road lanes but no one follows them, so it's essentially a free-for-all. In a country of 15 million people, says Jeff, 10 million are in Bangkok. 10 MILLION PEOPLE!

Chiang Mai, 15 train-hours to the north, is much more sedate. From the pictures it looks a bit like a rainforest, all lush and verdant and greener than green. Except of course for what Pat and I were calling the shit-river. There was this river in one of Jeff's photos that looked like it was a big fucking river of liquid shit. Jeff said that he was caught up in a wayward branch while boating on it and fell in. And he thought the river got mad at him and stole his sandal, but then he heard a popping sound and saw it sail to the top. The image alone of Jeff falling into such a waterway to hell is absolutely hilarious.

Anyway, I should let them tell their own stories, and hope that they will soon. But it says a lot that Jeff and Mary were in the recently rated top three cities in the world (Sydney, Bangkok and Chiang Mai) in the last six months. So much beauty in one year of someone's life might cause eye strain, but the tests have yet to be concluded.

So after the picture show Krissy and her belly joined the conversation and she was showing us her fetus. Baby Sully was kicking and generally causing what looks like a painful ruckus. We were up close and staring looking for a bump somewhere when a whole arm, elbow to fingers, pushed up and moved the length of her belly as if it were flopping around on an uncomfortable mattress in a room without air conditioning. It was like a scene out of Alien and it thoroughly creeped me out.

HUSTLE & FLOW

Last night I saw Hustle & Flow. It was really great; very entertaining. Terrence Howard, whom I first noticed from beyond the background earlier this summer in Crash (my favorite film of the year so far) was great as a Memphis pimp with dreams of something bigger and better. I have no idea how accurate this portrayal is of the stereotypes of 1) Memphis, 2) rappers, 3) pimps or 4) black people, but this was definitely an affecting story. I think none of those "accuracies" matter much anyway, because even if stereotypes are more often true than not, there is still a "not." There are always anomalies; exceptions that break the rules. And why can't there be a witty poor pimp who has the stuff and the werewithall to make it as a rapper? That's not to say that happens in the film, or doesn't, but it's a trajectory established early on.

The acting was fantastic. Beginning with Howard, who really came out of nowhere and has been turning in stellar work since Ray, though I can't remember seeing him ever before to say his previous stuff was not stellar. I love when a great actor emerges from those character roles that seem to blend in with the background so much you can't make out any distinctive features. At first, he mumbles a little trying to get down that Memphis twang (most noticable when he say the word "man") but after you acclimate yourself to that accent, just like reading a book written in dialect, you no longer have any trouble hearing what he is saying. He's best when the camera is just watching him doing nothing, or reacting, or listening to something. He's not overacting, but it is fascinating watching someone take in a sound or a word or absolutely nothing, or watching someone think.

Anthony Anderson is equally good (surprising?) as the more intelligent, more successful, wealthier, high school friend of Howard's. He plays what is looked down on in that geographical and cultural place as "white." I think that's a horrible stigma to pin on someone who is successful and clean (as in no drugs) and upstanding, for I think it's patently untrue. But we can discuss the element of poor whites another time. He bears the guilt of someone who made it out of his pre-destined slums and he comes back to help achieve the dream of someone he once knew.

Ludacris, who doesn't really appear until the last third of the film, continually surprises me. Like Howard, he was in Crash and was phenomenal in both. The words written for Ludacris and Howard in their long scenes together are the type that are profound and intelligent yet sound perfectly right coming out of the mouths of these characters. I suppose it's the inner human, the innateness in all of us, our guts speaking through our mouths that comes across; that everyone is capable of such thoughts and words and no one is unworthy of showing it.

These characters are on their face, one-dimensional. They're caricatures before the house lights dim and the reel begins, but once they do and it does, they are full people, with thoughts and dreams and successes and failures. They're like you and me, but with different standards and different hurdles and different people in and out of their lives. We all achieve something in our lives, or seek to, and even if we only get so far as halfway on the course before something goes wrong or crashes down around us, we tried.

This film was so alive and so meaningful, and the music is good. The acting is really what makes this movie great, for in lesser actors' hands these truly great words would ring hollow and fake.

A COMPULSION?

Is it me or have Law & Order reruns caught on specifically with middle-aged women? For years, my mom has watched on average two a night. She's seen them all by now, she must have, yet she continues to watch them as if for the first time. She has been reading mystery novels for most of her life, and there are only so many ways to kill someone. Surely she's read of them all or seen them on tv by now. How can they continue to surprise her? How can she forget a Season 1 episode outcome enough to watch it and still be engrossed?

Dannette/Sharise once told me that she's too old for Donard. She never said his age, but I know she's 39. She said that he wants to go to the South Side of Chicago (from Romeoville) all the time and get wasted and party, and she just wants to sit and watch Law & Order all night after work. If she's disturbed during her L&O episode, she won't look up or answer until commercial break.

I'm reading a book right now, Eleanor Rigby by that great Canadian, Douglas Coupland, and the main character, Liz, also watches Law & Order repeats religiously. Is this just a string of coincidences, or is this a pattern?

I don't know any men that watch the reruns like these women do. That doesn't mean they can't, I'm just pointing out what I've noticed. I haven't seen the show since Angie Harmon left. She was my favorite ADA. Does Dick Wolf know something about the female race and his tv shows? Are they psychologically tailored for women, or is that some unintended consequence?

Or perhaps, I'm just reading way too much into nothing.

GET ME IN A ROOM WITH KATIE MALLMAN

That was for you, Will. It's how you might be able to help me to get some solid sleep. I know you're in Boston, but when you're back. Pull some strings, puppetmaster.

THESE PRETZELS ARE MAKING ME THIRSTY!

We're in the middle of a sweltering hot spell and though it isn't as bad as that summer of 1998 when we led the nation in heatwave deaths, it's pretty damn hot. Because the duct work into my room is completely fucked up, the heat doesn't reach me in the winter and the air, when rarely on, doesn't reach me in the summer. I have a small window unit, but I don't like to sleep with it on, because it gets really cold and I wake up with the fucking sniffles or I don't sleep because of the loud-ass drumbeat. So I run it for an hour before I go to sleep and then have my fan on full blast to hopefully recirculate the cold (to cool) air til Morning.

At about 3 this morning, after taking a melatonin pill (I haven't been sleeping well for a few weeks, so I'm trying it all out), I jolted awake drenched in sweat and dying of thirst. I felt fine otherwise. Last Thanksgiving, I got the flu and was hot and cold, you know, but this was nothing like that. I wasn't sick, just hot and THIRSTY. I stumbled to the bathroom and guzzled down five cups of water. It was crazy.

All I can think of is that I usually drink two Nalgene bottles a day at work and yesterday I didn't. But c'mon. That's extreme. What's going on? I keep saying that if I could understand my body's language, I'd be better off. Crazy!

STARING AT THE REST OF YOUR BEAUTIFUL LIFE

On Saturday, I went to Eric's wedding to Kat. I brought Christine, who looked incredible despite overcoming a flu-like illness, something she got from her mother who got it the week previous from "an olive." Sounds like it belongs more in the food poisoning family, but I digress. Must have been some contaminated olive.

The wedding was at 11AM in Elk Grove Village. I had never been to a non-Catholic wedding, so I wasn't sure what the "local customs" would be. Overall, it was pretty much the same, except for a bunch of sinner talk from the pastor (priest? reverend? What's the Lutheran equivalent?), a video and a hymn played on the guitar by the best man. It was the right duration; not too long, not too short. The bride and groom looked more adult than I feel at 23. I suppose the trimmings of a wedding will do that. Having ebbed and flowed from my own religious moorings in the last six years, I was especially glad to see two people deeply rooted in their faith make solemn vows to each other -- and notably also to God -- and promise to live their newly joint life by the lessons of their beliefs. They adhere to a higher being than either of them; they have such respect and love for each other, it is seemingly impossible to break. It was really reaffirming of the institution of marriage, for it really eliminated that nagging divorce rate from my mind. If any two people are going to survive the assured trials of marriage, my money is on the Olsens. And I don't even know Kat yet. I got this all from watching them get married. That's something.

After the ceremony, the reception was at the Stonegate in Hoffman Estates. My Rand McNally directions oddly had me go West on Higgins and then make a U-turn and go East. I figured it would make sense to me once I was driving it, but it didn't. Christine and I went West then East then West again and then finally found it. I really thought Rand McNally would be better than Mapquest. Stupid mistake, Rand.

The reception was fantastic. That's where all the fun happens anyway. When we got to our table, Eric's friend Justin came over to me and dared me to fling the pad of butter at Eric. I didn't, but imagine how funny it would be if the groom got doused with something at the reception. Like butter, or gak, or that nasty shit from "You Can't Do That On Television" & "Double Dare." The food was by far the best wedding food I've ever had. I'm talking nice restaurant quality. Very surprising.

When it came time for the speeches, the emcee kept mispronouncing Matt's last name as "Burkman" and no one corrected him or laughed or anything. Matt even acted as if that was his name. I know I'm writing in hyperbole here, but it needs to be added that Matt's best man speech was a perfect best man speech. It was funny, it was poignant, it was meaningful. Matt was really nervous when I spoke to him before they openend the reception hall, but when he gave the speech, his voice was free of nerves and full of confidence. It was quite long and he had notecards and usually that comes across like a high-school report, where you look down and not at the audience and fill dead air with "ums" and coughs. Matt gave his speech like he was acting in a movie.

I cannot imagine being 23 and married, probably because I'm nowhere close. But many people can. I'm simultaneously jealous of Eric and glad it wasn't me. It's such a large step -- no, a leap -- in life that it must be nice beginning to ease into his next fifty plus years with his wife. But at the same time, I don't think my man-child-ness could handle all the adult responsibilities, expectations, and events that come from such a union. Not yet.

This was the first friend of mine to get married, the first in what will be a long line of weddings in the next ten years. It's that time of life....