Macy's 2008

0844 - This site will, of course, provide live coverage of the 2008 Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade as presented on the National Broadcasting Company. Your correspondent is firmly ensconced in a comfy chair staring at David Gregory and a cast of unknowns playing with a kitchen set.

For comparison, the Columbia Broadcasting System has a segment with one of Billy Graham's daughters reading a prayer. Dear NBC: That's more appropriate than a Food Network yokel.

0901 - Well, it's Matt 'n Meredith, just like last year. At least they're on the parade route, not nestled in a set like Jane Pauley used to be.

And here's Roker with Robin Hall in a blue or purple suit; here we go!

0907 - Hooray, Kristin Chenoweth will be on later. Meanwhile, I'm not really impressed by the musical selection of this huge cheerleader group.

0911 - One wonders what "Kings 2009" is. Selma Blair fails to impress---nothing new there.

0913 - Interesting. In the Heights seems like one of those things where a neighborhood is destroyed and we're supposed to Celebrate Diversity, but who knows? Can't really understand this guy between the pseudo-rap delivery and his weird accent, so about the only thing I've gotten out of it is that he's an immigrant from the Dominican Republic.

0920 - Ryan Seacrest fails. Justin Bruening and modern Knight Rider? Bother, Roker complains about environmental correctness in regards to lunchboxes; I would have figured that a long-lived metal or plastic lunchbox would be preferable to a brown bag.

0922 - This looks like an interesting musical---I'll take the blond on the left. There was something about the now-vanquished era of the 1940s and the like that had an undeniable style and glamour, something this rotten century has lost. I watched this segment pretty closely, better than the bodega bit.

0925 - Blah, Harry Connick as the nuisance aloft. It could be worse. Robin Williams for St. Jude's is a good commercial. Meanwhile, Subaru's commercial annoys. Ooh, an Apple commercial that doesn't tell me anything about the operating qualities of the Macbook.

0928 - Michael Flatley, who's probably making more money standing there than I do in a year, is out of his element. Roker annoys and Flatley is wasted here. Meanwhile, South Pacific.

Yet another artifact from the 1940s, something that suggests a world that I'll never know. If we were at war in the South Pacific now, there'd be plenty of dames out there, and I am not reassured by that fact.

0934 - Good God, stores opening at 0400? Why?

0935 - This segment with Harry Connick, Jr., is not intolerable. It's really short and his joke is a bit (just a bit) flat. It's much better than Martin Short. I don't care about The Office. Scranton mattered for the Lackawanna, and that's been over for some time.

0938 - Apparently teen performers are up next. I'll pass. Time for boiled custard.

0943 - I appear to have missed New Jersey's own Ali Larter. Well, I'll manage. Disney's stage renditions of its animated musicals come well recommended, but this leaves me flat; The Little Mermaid isn't something that's ever had traction with me. Maybe I'm not into fish except as a consumable.

0947 - Thank God I don't have to consider purchasing Zwinky Cuties. Best commercial so far? AFLAC and Rankin-Bass. Hellmann's Real Mayonnaise commercial is annoying. Yay, Rockettes next.

0949 - Here's another artifact of a bygone era, one that's more attractive than our modern era. Dear current culture mavens: You fail. Of course, I'd tell Meredith Viera to quit her day job too. Talk about precision; apparently this sort of thing was done on a large scale back in the 1920s and 1930s. Great, the digital signal's gone crumbly again, so a row of sleek and elegant Rockettes isn't reliably visible.

0953 - Why is Ashton Kutcher shilling for Nikon? Meanwhile, the The Christmas Classics set might get bought. The Black & Decker ad is amusing. This State Farm ad is weird and the Amway Global ad bores me; nothing I have involves this. Ooh, more Rockettes. That's always a good thing.

0956 - These Soul Tigers fail to interest me. Hooray, the Pilgrims and the turkey!

0958 - The band from Sioux Falls is rather quiet relative to the Viera audio mix. Papa Smurf, Smurfette and some anonymous Smurf; amusing. Welcome to 1985 or so! This Ocean Spray float is nice; I like it. Here's James Taylor singing an appropriate song for the event.

1005 - Baton twirling is something I can't do; I'd probably hit myself in the head or the face. Meanwhile, The World War I Flying Ace, escorted by Uno, some prize-winning beagle. That's aviator cap, Meredith. Anyways, United Features Syndicate has another good balloon.

Hmm, the Georgia Tech band. Shouldn't that be reserved for high schools?

1009 - I wish nobody listened to you, Miss Cyrus.

1011 - The NYPD's Mounted Unit and marching band, hooray. I suppose that's an ancient tradition, again something that wouldn't come up today.

1016 - Oops, I missed the Hawaiian dancers. Life continues. The signal keeps freezing, so all I know is that a rhinoceros has people on it with some R&B singer. Not impressed by "Shontelle".

1018 - The Nogales Noble Regiment does Bernstein, yawn. West Side Story should have ended with a police crackdown on the gangs, not some schmaltzy death sequence for young lovers separated by gang loyalties.

Can we deport Dora the Explorer? She's probably exploring the Rio Grande for better places to bring across more illegals.

1020 - Harajuku girls? No thanks; Japanese youth culture fails. Gwen Stefani can stay over there, so far as I'm concerned.

Hooray, the Energizer bunny. I think the drums are mixed in for NBC's tranmission. I think I'd threaten that annoying "He's gonna leave" kid with shooting Santa's sled down.

American Express ads fail---Gwyneth Paltrow in particular. She's in her element as Pepper Potts, and that's about it. I still want to see Sylvia, though.

1024 - The Heartbeats Jump Rope Team from Ohio looked like Southern Railway locomotives in black and (what appeared to be) gold trim. They're skilled and all, but really, a jump rope team? Now, it's Sesame Street and I've never heard of this "popular piano virtuoso". The white guy---Bob?---is starting to show age. I vaguely remember him.

1035 - Bother, service interruption. The Clique girls fail. I wish the producers of the parade would have focused on that street parade wagon. Hair should have stayed off Broadway and in the history books; so far as I'm concerned, it is irrelevant to our cultural pantheon except as an example of how far we've fallen.

1038 - Ronald McDonald has a shoe car; that's something new if I remember. I supose you can put a fiberglass body on anything.

1042 - The Ailey Academy piece doesn't impress me much, but then black spirituals have usually not resonated with me. I've never heard of Keith Haring; it appears that he died in 1990. Well.

The Hess float explanation is interrupted when the Haring float apparently nails the NBC booth; we have no video but Viera was startled. This bunch, PushPlay, fails. Meanwhile, Copiague High School seems to be Immigrant High; therefore it is uninteresting to this publication.

1048 - Idina Menzel sings; yay?. I wasn't aware that Wicked is the longest running Brodway show; I presumed that Cats, Les Miserables or something like that would have worn that honor. I might have missed something in the regular signal snags.

1050 - Who's David Archuleta?

1056 - Macy's gets rickrolled. At least the guy's having something of a career resurgence, but being stationed on a cartoon float is probably not what he had in mind. Rick Astley, I remember your career when it was new---at least he's got the professionalism to smile and laugh when that thing mentions rickrolling. Oh, and when the puppet talks about it as well.

more...

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Macy's 2007

And here we are again with live coverage of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, presented by the National Broadcasting Company.

Again, we're glad to be rid of Katie Couric. She really added nothing to the broadcast. I seem to vaguely remember Jane Pauley running the show down there, and she was always superior to Couric, who was too busy being Perky. I can't remember the Deborah Norville era, but then again, that was two years nearly twenty years ago.

Menudo? You have got to be kidding me!.

Faith Hill? You fail. Meanwhile, we're very glad that the Patriots are doing well. The Roker interview with Jane Krakowski falls flat, because I've never seen 30 Rock. Meanwhile, Legally Blonde is another thing that I've passed by. When it made the splash into theaters, I was in the middle of Stalingrad law school myself, so I wasn't interested in the adventures of some foolish girl who glides through law school because she's blond. Had enough of that in the real world.

Whoever's playing Miss Woods ain't quite the looker, and this is with a 46" screen. Pity. This guy in the bowtie is great so far---her great argument for her admission is love? Rubbish.

Oh, a quick cut of Joe Torre? Haha.

A whiny kid like that ought to be dragged out and beat. "He's gonna leave, he's gonna leave!" "Yes, and I guarantee you that it won't matter as to the presence of cookies."

Izod kayaking? I could go for that.

Young Frankenstein seems at least interesting. If I was in the foul city of New York and had some spare scratch, I'd give it a look. Too bad my surround speakers are overpowered the primary audio channel, so there's always the default TV speakers. Blah.

Meh, Meredith Viera. I could really care less about the writers' strike. I've got ye olde intarwebs and more than a hundred movies & television series on DVD, so stay on strike as far as I'm concerned. I have nothing to lose!

The new National Treasure sounds potentially interesting. You've got to admit that Diane Kruger looks great in high definition, so I'll probably hit the theaters for that.

Someone please shoot Bob Saget's helicopter down. The hugs on the bench bit wasn't funny, and neither was a reference to The Golden Girls, because nobody remembers that show. It seems that an annoying comedian is brought up each year---Martin Short in years past---to fly over the route and make annoying jokes. Get him out of there!

Hmm, it appears that we can't create anything new in this country. Seriously, Xanadu? Sure the song from twenty-odd years ago is not puncture-your-eardrums bad, but a musical on the general premise of the movie? Whatever. The singer does do a passable of aping Olivia Newton-John, which is, I suppose, a considerable attribute. However, men in tight leggings, jeans, whatever, and wearing roller skates offends the moral and aesthetic conscience. She's not that good-looking, either.

Moving right along.

I've never seen an episode of Heroes, but Ali Larter is still rather decent-looking. The cheerleader, Pan-whatever, is annoying. Oh, yay, there she is.

Hmm, The Golden Compass. Starring Nicole Kidman. Hooray, even if just as a visual treat. Too bad the author of the series is a whiny, miserable wretch who's jealous of C.S. Lewis.

Can't hear Al Roker. This is getting to be a habit. Someone from the SVU branch of the Law & Order franchise with his dog and a porkpie hat. Meanwhile, Mary Poppins. You've got to cheer for Julie Andrews, even if this isn't her. I liked this movie as a child---not really sure why---and then I realized that Miss Andrews was a looker. I don't remember the original having lyrics about the collapse of the Roman Empire, but whatever.

I utterly hate these Canon commercials, but at least they've put Maria Sharapova in them. She's pleasant to look at, and she's not bad at tennis, either. Of course, none of this gets her in good with the Russian tennis authorities. I'd still like to punt that annoying dog into the next county, though.

For Chrissakes, appropriating 1984 to sell a music-playing toothbrush? Yawn. Once again, we seem to be reliving the 1980s, with Menudo, Xanadu, and ripoffs of old Apple Computer ads. Oh, I'm missing the Rockettes.

I can't say that I care for those weird outfits. Y'know, the Rockettes are supposed to be in top hats and modified tuxedos, kinda like that DC character Zatanna. Christmas in New York is probably just like any other time in New York, a filthy and miserable mess that I don't like. There seems to be a distinct lack of balloons and/or floats this year, and I wonder why.

Oh, hmm. Maybe I've just forgotten the sequence of the thing. Robin Hall of Macy's marching in. Well, at least he didn't embarrass himself this year.

0958 Oops, I forgot to timestamp the entries. Well, we'll do that now.

0959 Please go away, Dolly Parton. Retreat to Dollywood---a nice park---and don't bother me. Please.

1001 Viera, we give thanks for the Divine Providence that delivered our ancestors from death and famine. (Admittedly so that we could deliver said things unto the Indians, but that's not important.)

Tom Turkey is always appreciated. Traditions are, of course, important. Hope the marriage between those two pilgrims on the float works. Bonne chance, as it were.

The new float, Abby Cadabby (sp), annoys. The CTW ought to be focusing on its proven money-makers.

Ooh, Tea Leoni. If she wasn't Mrs. David Duchovny---hiya, collapsed career!---then perhaps I'd be more inclined to watch. Nicholas Cage is still a reasonably worthy-to-watch actor.

1006 - I never watched Sesame Street---our PBS reception was always lousy---and so this one's lost on me. Here we go with Stephenson High School from Stone Mountain, Georgia. Wabash blue, it appears. Nothing particularly memorable about the music, but it appears to be well-done.

1009 - Meh, Scooby Doo. It appears that he has a leak. Build-a-Bear Workshop, yay. I've never heard of the Jonas Brothers, and it appears that I haven't missed anything.

1012 - Wynonna Judd coming up? Eek, I didn't know there was an excess weight float in service. Meanwhile, Jessica Simpson fails in a Macy's ad---would that Martha Stewart might kill that obnoxious buffoon. I hate this Quizno's ad. Quizno's: Too much cost, too little sandwich. I wonder if Elizabeth Mitchell is in that third Santa Clause---she certainly made the first one.

1016 - Yeah, I don't get Barbie. An island princess? The only island worth being princess of would be Great Britain.

1017 - A high school from American Fork, Utah, at the foot of the Wasatch Mountains---perhaps they have seen UPRR Big Boys? Not impressed with their costumes, but then again, I prefer the ones popular in the East. Yawn, Hello Kitty. A brand that's been around for years, even when I was a kid---again, this is the 1980s all over again.

1022 - Up with people, down with this song. Is that one of the Duff sisters or something? Meh, I'm hungry.

1024 - Eek, Steve Irwin's daughter. That float looks like it's going to disintegrate under the pounding. I wonder if that's ever happened.

1025 - This all-hobo clown medley fails. However, I see nothing wrong with never having been to New York City. Why should that be important? I managed to miss Mumbles Viera's note of who they were, though, so they'll be anonymous. Meanwhile, Ronald McDonald.

1028 - This M&Ms float is innovative. Meanwhile, we swap to the Columbia Broadcasting System to see what they're doing. They're actually talking about the floats instead of just yammering, so we'll give them some time. Hmm, amateur hour. Might be more interesting than this insipid NBC telecast.

1033 - Back to the NBC. Just in time for the !@#$% Virginia Tech band. Bring back Washington. Lauer, you idiot. The people are already standing and clapping; there's nothing special about it. Who are Lifehouse? Thumbs up to the giant Federal eagle on the Postal Service float.

P.S. I don't care who Lifehouse are. They're annoying. I wish Don Imus would show up in this parade.

1037 - Hooray, it's the World War I Flying Ace! Too bad Snoopy is famous for root beer mugs or a swagger stick, not binoculars.

1041 - Wow, Marilu Henner is pretty well preserved. Nadia Comaneci is reportedly still good-looking, and well, Carol Alt might have seen better days, but she's a model and can probably get the kind of advice necessary to look like she just stepped off a Raymond Loewy scratch pad. Dear God, whoever Nikki Blonsky is, she's going to crush that float. Message to Al Roker: That looks more like a 1950s malt shop, not something from the 1960s.

1043 - I thought they meant Joanna Levesque instead of some animated clown. Meanwhile, the clock is still running on the former. Clowns annoy me. Universal Cheerleaders & Dance Association annoys already.

1047 - It's probably no coincidence that you can nearly spell 'annoy' from "Ne-Yo". Falsetto vocals and poofter dance moves are not the sort of thing to attract my attention. Sorry, kid.

1051 - The National Dance Institute impresses with a reasonably coherent display of choreography. It's about 50-odd degrees, so it's probably not all that cold in Herald Square. Pulling all those dance moves in sweats must not be easy.

1052 - The Big Apple float is nice but no great thing. This band needs to die. Whoever---Menudo? Pasa the eggplant!

1054 - "Gee, Officer Krupke"? That guy should have called for backup and murdered the Jets for singing that song. Yay, fat firefighter balloon.

1057 - I'd rather have the Hell Gate Bridge, as far as NYC infrastructure goes. The Hess float is always fun to look at, but this wanna-be Blues Brother, i.e. the lead singer of Good Charlotte, should die.

1058 - The only thing that's "never say quit" is Viera's annoying string of adjectives about the Energizer Bunny. I wonder if that thing's on wheels. Up next, Sarah Brightman. Never have bought one of her albums.

1100 - An insurance company about the California fires? Uh huh, I hear "claim denied" ringing. Ooh, Jennifer Aniston. She's still reasonably attractive, and she's got Angelina Jolie beat. Ow, Marlo Thomas makes my eyes hurt. Blah, POTC 3 was a terrible movie.

1102 - Jewels of the Caribbean? Yawn. I could care less about Caribbean-American organizations. If they want to celebrate their identity, they can bloody well stay down there in the islands. Cripes, Euro-pop for Sarah Brightman? Well, at least she's decent looking, far better than on some of her album covers, but once again, Euro-pop fails us. It's almost indistinguishable from something that Kylie Minogue might come up with, and really, is that anything to be proud of?

1105 - A 1947-style balloon? Oh, nice. I vaguely remember seeing black-and-white footage

The Paul Laurence Dunbar H.S. Band from Lexington, Kentucky plays a selection from the Nutcracker, yay. I don't see how being in a high school band teaches young ladies and gentlemen about life through music, but whatever. It's the standard pablum rolled out by the arts vultures when shilling for funds. You can stop with the lie---music for music's sake and the preservation of high culture is reason enough.

1107 - Shrek balloon, yawn.

1110 - Oh, the imaginary friends home---Mrs. Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, perhaps---again. This is creepy.

1112 - A silver rabbit that apes a statue of some kind. Nice. Albertville H.S., from Alabama, is doing OK. Why can't I really hear Al Roker?

1114 - Those climbers look...really bored. Ashley Tisdale fails. I am amused at how she's important now that the other HSM individual has fallen from favor. Too bad Tisdale's a bad singer and really not all that good-looking in any objective sense. I suppose she's going for Gestapo chic.

1115 - Say "Immigrations and Customs Enforcement!" to Dora the Explorer. This "Latina heroine" can go back over the border as far as I'm concerned. Bloody annoying multiculturalists. This Citibank prodigal son commercial is annoying.

1117 - Rachael Ray? Blah. Give me Giada de Laurentiis in high definition, thanks. I think there's something instructive in the fact that we've never managed to surpass the original Rankin-Bass Christmas specials. Decline of the culture? Certainly. Meanwhile, an American Gladiators revival. I think it's utter irony to have these two things together.

1119 - Oh, that's mean. Cherokee Indians on a float in a parade celebrating the successful landings in Plymouth. "We are very glad you nearly wiped us out. We salute our new overlords."

1121 - Hmm, the Al Roker float. Oh, wait, that's Mr. Potato Head. International Year of the Potato? I suppose we're already out of International Geophysical Years. Meh, celebrations of commercialized cowboy culture. I'm afraid to ask what this really is.

1123 - The Oklahoma band? I'd rather have Kristin Chenoweth singing its praises; at least she's good-looking.

1124 - Another American Idol winner? Meh, who cares. Another disposable R&B wanna-be.

1129 - Huesca Brothers acrobatics are impressive. Having said that, the missed one looks painful.

1130 - Pikachu, I choose you. Nearly five hundred Pokemon? Good grief. This balloon has illuminated cheeks, but you can't really see them.

Service terminated.

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The History Quiz

Since everyone seems to be doing it, the ISI's National Civic Literacy Board Civics Quiz.

Your correspondent's luck held fast, as I managed to score 59/60 for a percentage of 98.33% accuracy. I missed question 58 dealing with the effects of a purchase of bonds by the Federal Reserve. I said it was a decrease in the supply of money, on the notion that if the Federal Reserve is spending money to buy bonds---which I interpreted to be Treasury bonds---then they would have less money to introduce into the stream of commerce, et cetera. By the ISI's mark, this is wrong, but I don't care. I'm not an economist, hated my economics classes in college, and consider a career in economics only slightly more promising than taking command of Army Group Vistula in April of 1945.

I think I got lucky on several questions due to the fact that I probably share a broad philosophical and political viewpoint with the ISI. Some of the questions, especially on trade and theories of government, depend upon your viewpoints. If you're a fan of an interventionist central government, then you're going to miss several of these.

Nyah nyah, Goldberg.

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Paris Talks Tough on Iran

EDIT: The link, as usual, has been changed because F24 have not figure out how to run a website. See here for the current story, where the snide Iranian's remarks have been deleted.

It appears that the French government now considers the worst-case scenario in the Iranian question to be war, and at least one minister suggests that the French and their associates prepare for that scenario.

Foreign Minister Bernard Kouchner stated on Sunday that negotiations on the Iranian nuclear program should continue "right to the end", while the French and Germans were considering an additional slate of sanctions to be applied to Iran. Kouchner also stated that he considered an atomic-armed Teheran a "real danger for the whole world" and the situation as, "the greatest crisis" at the present.

The Iranians were, of course, outraged, and said nothing important, and the Israelis were, of course, very pleased that the minister's comments had been made. Some commenter named 'amir safari' snapped that 'Mr Kushner had better shut his slotty mouth and stop pestering our country'. Some fool named Kenneth T. Tellis determined that the United States were a greater danger, ostensibly due to our developed and deployed strategic arsenal. He also questioned whether 'we'---whoever that is---should be a part of the "American wolf pack", while claiming that his "we" should set its sights on the U.S. and not Iran.

Fascinating. President Sarkozy's regime may be something of what the Atlantic community needed, which is to say some steel in the backbone that doesn't belong to either Washington or London. I am also pleased that major French energy companies (i.e. Total and Gaz de France are being encouraged to pass on Iranian contracts. Since the intricacies of the French system are opaque to me, I don't know what the nature of official urging would be, whether it's mere rhetoric or something more muscular.

The issues raised during the run-up to Operation IRAQI FREEDOM may yet be overcome, and Teheran's belligerent intransigence is appreciated here. I have hoped for a rapprochement between Washington and Paris due to the mutual interest of Western states at stake here, and perhaps the Sarkozy government will not be so focused on opposition as a reflexive answer.

For the record, I am decidedly skeptical about the Iranian claims of peaceful development and their supposed 'need' for atomic energy to fuel the national grid. Yeah, 'cause they don't have any other sources of energy in that country. To paraphrase Jason Geddrick in the first Iron Eagle, "You've got a whole country full of it!"

I am also amused when I read some outraged claims by the Iranians that they have a right to (variously) atomic power or atomic weapons, and especially so since I vaguely remember it being claimed as of right due to their developing status. The Iranian nationalists would do well to remember that they freely chose to throw away their progress and development ca. 1979 when they backed Ruhollah Khomeini and gaily marched off to war with Iraq.

Get it through your head, Teheran: You may think you have the right to build your atomic weapons program. Fine. Maybe you do; in the abstract, it's nice to ponder. In reality, other nations may assert a right to have a say in whether a violent Islamic-exporting regime with links to terror should be allowed to develop atomic weapons, and don't be surprised if someone takes violent exception to it.

---

Minister Kouchner's remarks are unavailable as an English-language transcript, so I can only repeat what France24 puts up.

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A Culinary Recommendation

And now, page 2.

If you're ever out in Virginia's peanut country (i.e. southeast of Petersburg and the like), I suggest that you go to Wakefield. It's not named for knuckleballer Tim Wakefield, but it's still a wonderful place. Why's that?

The Wakefield Peanut Company.

I had a bag of peanuts brought to me by a friend who had been out that way, and they were utterly delicious. Despite the fact that I knew I was adding on to my waistline by gobbling these things down, I couldn't resist the allure of a well-prepared salted in the shell peanut. Meh, couple more hours on the bike or working in the (currently boiling Virginia) sun.

Write, telephone, or surf to them at:

Wakefield Peanut Company
P.O. Box 538
Wakefield, Virginia 23888
(757) 899-5481
www.wakefieldpeanutco.com

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Earth Without People

While reading the Wikipedia article about the Pennsylvania Railroad's Hell Gate Bridge, I stumbled across the reference to it lasting a thousand years if humans vanished tomorrow.

The assertion is made by a man interviewed for a Discover magazine article about what would happen if we suddenly weren't here. It doesn't sound like one of those fringe ecological articles that hopes we're gone; rather, I picked up that it was merely a statement of supposed fact.

Anyways, it's kind of creepy reading what the City of New York would look like as the years ground on. Read the whole thing.

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Yee Haw

'Rock the Vote' is in trouble, and I couldn't be happier.

Comes now this report from Gary of Ex-Donkey, quoting the Los Angeles Times. (Italicization and link omitted for snide reasons.) Among the salient points of problem:

-Spending has outstripped earnings to the tune of $700,000.
-Two serious suits (from a fundraising organization and the County of Los Angeles) have been filed inside of a year.
-Executive turmoil.
-Conflicting goals and culture between Rock the Vote and the music industry.

We are not supposed to laugh at the misfortunes of our enemies, but how can you not? This pretentiously arrogant group purporting to speak for all "youth" voters---bah, they're unreliable and emotional---lashed itself to the mast of the Democrat Party years ago and haven't ever seen fit to change. The curmudgeonly side of me grumbles, "Stupid kids come straight to the organization believing that they can change the whole world by running a couple of ads and having some idiot 'artist' tell me to 'Vote or Die'? Rubbish." I do not believe them to be good for the country, and I will 'note without sorrow' their passing, as Tom Clancy put it.

Hopefully, this is 'good riddance'. Not that I am particularly influenced by MTV; the last time I ever gave it a look was during the heyday of Aeon Flux and Beavis and Butt-head, which is getting to be a while back. Before and after that, Viacom's precious jewel has been completely irrelevant to my personal experience. Having said that, it is pleasant to wipe the smirk off their sneering faces.

I just wish it had happened in time for Tabitha Soren to get her comeuppance. Where have you gone, Serena Altschul?

Tip of the Wisconsin hat to Llama Butchers.

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Dear Santa

I have been exceptionally good this year. I have not overthrown Third World countries stupid enough to toss out my approved dictators, nor have I engaged in non-fair trade activities.¹ I have also refrained from illegal suppressions of minority votes in various elections throughout the country. I think this is sufficient to warrant granting my long-standing desire for various things.

I am, however, willing to further extend my my holiday magnanimity to the struggling Columbia Broadcasting System's paltry evening newscast. Indeed, I have been a viewer of the NBC Nightly News with Tom Brokaw for many, many years.² Furthermore, I had precious little respect for Walter "I Singlehandedly Sabotaged America's Effort in Vietnam, and All I Got Was Replacement by Dan Rather" Cronkite and the rest of 'em. For what it's worth, the last thing I watched on the CBS was The Magnificent Seven with Michael Biehn et al.

However, in the spirit of Christmas, I will watch the CBS Evening News if the Tiffany Network will do me but one thing:

HIRE THIS WOMAN

I will go so far as to overlook the Chirac government's rumored prevarications against the several States insofar as it will further allow me to enjoy this excellent example of Gallic womanhood, guilt-free. As Tom DeFalco or the crowd at Marvel back in the 1970s might've put it, "Make mine Melissa!"

Joyeux noël!

Yours truly,
TCP

---
¹ Well, there was that one Vietnamese shoe deal, but you got what you wanted out of that one. Phil Knight thanks you, as does the DRV.

² Brian Williams is a hack.

Robbo and Steve gave me the idea for this, so all credit and a tip of the captain's hat from Richelieu to The Llama Butchers.

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Macy's 2005

I absolutely hate mornings, but make of it what one will. It appears that I missed something interesting by not getting up earlier and catching NBC's Campbell Brown helping out on the fringes of some cooking demonstration on the Today program. Felgercarb!

And away we go!

0900: Yay, "The National Broadcasting Company"; it's always nifty to hear full corporate names from another era. The only problem is that I'll be stuck with the dreadful duo of Couric & Lauer.

0902: Thirty-nine degrees in Herald Square, ick. When I watched Macy's back in the 1990s, I froze myself to death. Not only was the weather absolutely miserable in terms of temperature, but we must have found the international section, because I heard something like ten languages around me. The only problem with that was that none of them were English.

Mr. Robin Hall is annoying already, and the woman standing beside him looks like Harriet Miers. Of course, maybe I'm just not good at connecting to New York views of how to show enthusiasm.

0905: Ill-tempered rant about the presence of one named guest snipped out of consideration for audience interest. At least the sports entertainment crowd doesn't have anyone announced in this lineup; maybe Kristin Chenoweth will do a good song. Her popular music release from a few years back was pretty good, although she annoyed in Bewitched. Hmm.

0910: Gah, Sprint ads have gotten very bad. Yay, massive train station in Europe. Meanwhile, I just can't get excited about the National Dog Show, although I understand that people watch it. Little children die when Katie Couric opens her mouth.

0913: Rainn Wilson looks like John Lithgow's Blake Edwards in The Life and Death of Peter Sellers. I'm not sure that's a compliment. Let's see how many NBC television programs we can hawk, Roker.

Ooh, here we go with Christina Applegate. I wasn't in Herald Square when I saw the thing, so I've never actually seen these little dance numbers. On second thought, I think I liked Miss Applegate in something else better.

0918: Hmm, stage makeup always makes one look really weird, and that must be the final verdict on Miss Applegate. Hooray, someone with a Washington Nationals hat. Do I really need commercials for food, gambling, and dancing to convince me to go to Puerto Rico? (Admittedly, the only way I'd go to Puerto Rico is on a junket to waste public money, but...)

Expect something extra from CVS? How about lower service? Bah, Sheryl Crow in the NBC Christmas concert. Her last album stunk, so I don't think I'll be tuning in. On the other hand, it might be interesting to see who's got more makeup on in an attempt to cover up age, Rod Stewart or her. Ha ha.

Blah, daytime soap opera stars waste my time.

0923: Ooh, maids. The problem with the Broadway singing style is that every singer sounds alike, or at least alike enough to fool my ears. (We're never going to assign you to Brookhiser's seat or anything near the city desk. ---Ed.) One would think that Dirty Rotten Scoundrel would refer to George Steinbrenner.

0931: Well, finally someone to tell us some more things about the city itself. Thanks to Amy Grant for being useful, unlike Couric & Lauer. Nice off-camera snow gun. I don't think it's a coincidence that Couric is wearing some sort of hat that probably wouldn't have been out of place on the late Raisa Gorbachev. Bloody little hack journalist.

Meanwhile, the gal in the red-and white from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is pleasant to watch and listen to. I don't remember the movie being an economic or critical overperformer, but maybe I'm wrong. Ouch, just watching people do bell kicks causes pain. I'm afraid of the human on the left of the yellow-vested man. That had better be a woman in greasepaint or something.

0938: Brad Paisley versus Kermit the Frog in dueling banjos. I...I have nothing to say. Oh, Couric, you urban sophisticate, "CPW" for "Central Park West". I am nothing before your brilliant acronyms. My God, Adrien Brody is a human woodpecker. Hmm, NASA rocket in the background. Recreating New York ought to be interesting, especially if they put something from the New York Central or Pennsylvania Railroad. A New Haven I-5 on The Merchants Limited might not be out of place, either...

I'd rather ride on a ship of the Cunard or White Star lines than on Royal Carribean's Freedom of the Seas. You don't surf on something that wants to win the Blue Riband.

0943: "We're Sunnnnnnnncom, and we-get-it." Harry Connick, Jr., has been a favorite since I saw him in The Memphis Belle whenever that came out. Yee haw.

0944: The Jersey Boys makes me think of someone from the Central Railroad of New Jersey, but these guys probably haven't seen a CNJ train in their life. (Neither have you.---Ed.) I heard a little something about this one on NPR a few weeks back, I think; I'd rather these sorts of things succeed as opposed to Rent or Angels in America. After all, giving the odious Tony Kushner a red smear in the ledger book is a worthy goal.

Walk like a man, eh? Not with a voice like that.

0955: Yay, the Rockettes. Crawling on sunshine? Give me Katrina and the Waves, not this ersatz arrangement. Ack, pfftbt, or whatever, due to M.C. Hammer outtakes for hand sanitizer ads. Nexium ad! It fixes acid reflux, but it might just wreck everything else in your GI system. Visit purplepill.com and nag the licensed professional who knows more than you to prescribe it!

0959: Yay, Harriet Miers is back on screen. At least Lauer sounds like he's trying, while Couric ought to be nicknamed 'The Phonewoman', 'cause she sounds like she's phoning it in.

1000: Hooray for high school bands. They often keep high school football interesting, especially when they get snide in their song choice.

1003: Hmm, Scooby-Doo. I used to watch a lot of that when I was a kid. It is, however, interesting to know that the Scooby-Doo series have made it into the Guinness book of records. One wonders if they're counting The 13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo in that run.

1008: Rita Coolidge sings for us. Yay? We last heard from her in the 1983 James Bond movie, Octopussy. Bloody Big Bird; the Children's Television Workshop ought to pay a dividend to the Federal government so we can reduce taxation elsewhere. I'd still like to know why the CPB and PBS don't get the profits from Sesame Street and Barney. There's probably a very good reason for it, but all the more reason to complain. It would be nice to avoid the regular PBS fund drives, after all.

1011: Tommy Tune lives? Amazing. Ooh, European train station in the Nikon D50 ad. Yee haw. Have them boarding a TGV Atlantique or something. I hate OnStar ads. If I buy a new GM car, I'll impose a requirement that any such on-board system be ripped out. Hmm, self-propelled weebles. Interesting.

1015: This is amusing trying to hear Couric stumbling over whatever it is; J-pop is....ach. Puffy AmiYumi. Er, right. Give me some Cibo Matto if you must, but this is more than I can stomach. That guy with the guitar looks like he's really happy. Ugh, that purple dinosaur.

1028: Eatin' time. Service will resume when the foodstores are depleted.

1038: We're back, and "Mr. DJ" girl can kindly move along. I'm not particularly concerned where she's from, and ooh, Kristin Chenoweth coming up. Four feet eleven inches of good singing voice. Interesting, Walt Disney World is fifty. I haven't been there in years, so I don't know what's down there, but I heard they canned the 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea ride, so fooey on Eisner.

1041: Note to Estee Lauder's ad people: Gwyneth Paltrow is not superior to Elizabeth Hurley. I saw the former in an ad while out last night, and I thought it was Sheryl Crow. (In case you're wondering, that's not a compliment.)

1044: I do think Rex Harrison makes a better Dr. Doolittle than Tommy Tune. Hmm, Chicken Little. That was an amusing picture, helped much by the presence of Joan Cusack, who I've liked since Grosse Pointe Blank and Toys. Everyone needs a Marcella, and I've known someone who's about as weird as Alsatia.

1047: Interesting how the Disney people got folks who resemble the animated character's they're portraying. Yay.

1057: Yay, it's Kristin Chenoweth! Whatta setta pipes on that gal. Precise diction and the like. We don't care about Oklahoma, but you're doing fine, Kristin.

1101: Hip hop>? Snore. Please go away. Likewise to the Telemundo types. 'The Click Five' can kindly move along now; I don't care. On the other hand, Hess gasoline is always good to see publicized.

1105: Enh, bilingual Latina adventurer. Snore; I could care less. Here's Natasha Bedingfield. Please go away. See the Statue of Liberty? Go past that and keep heading east. We'll have a place for you at Southampton or London Heathrow.

1110: Hooray, the NYPD and the FDNY. When I was in NYC for the parade, it was nifty to see those guys standing around in the heavy double-breasted jackets. It was like something out of an old movie, but you knew you were safe with those guys around. They were huge. (Of course, nothing surpasses the Virginia State Police for the impression of 'don't mess', so go figure.) Hmm, the obligatory Louisiana mentions. Well, I suppose that makes sense since the clobbering of the Gulf Coast is a very important story.

1115: Couric as queen of the pom-poms? Bah. I thought the cheerleader outfits said "NYP", which brought "New York Pennsylvania Station" to mind. Either I'm going back to sleep, or the parade is not as interesting.

1122: Bring back Mayor McCheese, you dirtbags! Tutenstein? Double-you-tee-eff. Rock and rule with a three thousand year old corpse? Er, no. Funny, shouldn't Egyptian dancers be, well, visually similar to Eygptians?

1124: Gah, Pikachu. An electric rat is about the last thing I need at this point. Where's my whiskey?

1129: Hmm, a Miss USA. Yay. This parade brough to you by the Potato Board. Give me a Darth Tater anyways. Couric, you're casually invited to kill the bad puns. Don't you have any editorial control?

1132: Aaron Neville, you're so cutting-edge for having a tattoo on your face. That's so cool. Maybe when I grow up, I can have one of those, too. And a beret, too!

1141: Brian Wilson is wearing a Yankees hat. Well, down with him. Frog or supermodel? Depends. If I want a phone call, I'll go with Kermit the Frog. If I want a wake-up nudge, I'll go with Carolyn Murphy. Sorry, Frog.

1144: Cheetah Girls? Uh, whatever.

1147: If I understand Couric correctly, the M&M balloon was not displayed live. Well, safety first. Pillsbury Doughboy, hooray. Carrie Underwood sings an eminently forgettable song. I can't say that it's a very good one.

1154: Hmm, The Polar Express. Any parade can be improved by the presence of a replica Nickel Plate Berkshire. Bah, losing signal can make you worried. Twice in the last minute, we've gone to blue screen. One worries when live events get hit by this; I'm reminded of a scene from the new Galactica wherein you see static on one side of a split screen, and someone being buffeted by the winds from an atomic detonation shortly before being caught in the blast themselves. (You've seen too many movies on nuclear war.---Ed.)

1157: Yay, Santa Claus. Thanks to Macy's, the National Broadcasting Corporation, and all the telecast sponsors for making this possible.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of y'all; I'll be back later in the week 'cause now it's time for an over-the-road trip to the relatives. Yee haw.

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West Virginia Bans High-Proof Alcohol

The West Virginia Alcohol Beverage Control Administration has chosen to ban high-proof grain alcohol.

The interesting thing about this is that the move appears (on the face of the single article) to have been the product of pressure from post-secondary education. While certainly an area of concern, I'm honestly surprised that the WVABCA did what they did because a couple of college administrators asked. That seems to be the reason, at least from the article.

The amusing thing about all this is that there's really no reason for students at the University of Charleston to worry. They've got their own alternate source of high caliber liquid poison, known to the rest of us as the Kanawha River. Drink up! If it doesn't eat your throat on the way down, the pleasurable sensations from dying organs ought to keep you in a blissful state for hours. That is, until the coma sets in.

As for those in Huntingon and Morgantown, they'll have to make do with moonshine. I am certain that the County of Franklin can supply all their needs in that regard.

---

Tip of the Wisconsin hat to KLO@NRO. (This got left out the first time around. Sorry 'bout that.)

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Late Day Diversion

This is amusing. Nobody does seem to know her name. That being said, it's always fun to have a reassuring face at the Yahoo! mail login.

Instead of wasting time (with your friends at Tosche Station?) with Dan Rather and other people, why not find out who she is? Might be a good professional boost.

UPDATE: The Hatemongers' Quarterly has a similar viewpoint.

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The Case for the Sith

In the spirit of Jonathan V. Last's most excellent "Case for the Empire", I offer the following two articles, written by a fellow named Sir George, over at the Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler:

We Are Sith

We Are Sith - Part II

If you're the sensitive sort, be careful. In the grand tradition of the Rottweiler, these posts are kinda sorta laced with some profanity action. But never mind that. I found this through a comment by a fellow named Duncan Avatar over at Rusty Shackleford's Jawa Report.

NB: I've recently been asked why I'm so bloody cheerful about claiming affinity with the clearly established bad guys of the Star Wars universe. I can only say this: "It's a question of preferable caricature. Andrew Sullivan tries to imply that we're some sort of latter day Torquemadas, running around trying to make the sequel to The Pit and the Pendulum. Various others constantly try to make us out as being descended straight from the Nuremberg rallies of the 1930s, itching to build Auschwitz South at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.

When pre-destined to be the agents of evil in the American political landscape and given a choice in costuming and weaponry between a) Roman Catholic frocks and the rosary, b) feldgrau and gas chambers, or c) black robes, black cloaks, and lightsabers, well, I'll choose "C" every single time. It's much more fun to cruise about in an Executor-class Star Destroyer as opposed to the Bismarck or one of Phillip II's treasure galleons. Since we're damned to be the villains of this narrative, then I might as well enjoy myself.

Shane Falco was wrong: Chicks don't dig scars. Chicks dig Dark Jedi.

Tip of the Executor hat to Steve the Llama Butcher.

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How Class Works, Etc.

Liberals of varying stripe (cultural, political, economic, etc.) are usually Very Concerned about issues of "race, class, and gender". It seems to be one of the things that a lot of otherwise pleasant young women will get very nasty about, very quickly. I found this out in college, where a Nader-worshipping professor taught a class on that very subject. Lo, whilst I was amongst the feminine masses at an event, I trod upon the holy ground of the professor of race, class, and gender. It was something innocuous, on the order of "I don't like the cut of that man's jib", referring to the professor in question.

As with Doctor Yueh, it would have been better had I not ever been born.

A bunch of the RCG Groupies descended upon me like I was the last living human in a bad zombie film, shrieking cries of "Misogyny!" (It sounds awkward, but can be utterly disarming against an un-prepared combatant. Even the best Jedi needs a bit of heads-up in order to defend himself, after all.) I managed to retreat in good order mostly by expert spin on my own remarks. It was rather close.

All that aside, I was directed yesterday to a point inside the NY Times website, wherein one can calculate their "place" in America's class structure, based upon some factors. Some data is based on personal projections and/or near-term targets, but even so, my results were surprising:

Occupation: Lawyer/84th percentile (of prestige)
Education: Doctoral degree, i.e. J.D./99th percentile
Income: $50,000/69th percentile
Wealth: Up to $500,000/85th percentile
Average: 84th percentile

There were five tiers in which each value was scored, "Bottom Fifth", "Lower Middle", "Middle", "Upper Middle", and "Top Fifth". Only "Income" was not "Top Fifth".

This I had not expected. I have a hard time believing that lawyers are in the top 20% of respected jobs in this country, but then again, I've grown up in an area where peoples' ideas of lawyers, more often than not, were probably formed by unsmiling men in suits telling them that, "The company/lending institution has all rights to your property in this instance", so go figure. As for education, I'm not surprised; doctoral degrees aren't exactly handed out easily. Income sort of rattles me, however. $50,000 (a round estimate) is ahead of the median household income of $46,000 in the Commonwealth of Virginia in 1999, and is twice what the per capita income ($23,000) for Virginians in 1999 was. Yet, almost a third of the country makes more than that. It is difficult, I suppose, to internalize and comprehend that $50,000/year is both ahead of two statistical categories in the Commonwealth, while still lagging in the 69th percentile. Admittedly, when you have both Bill Gates of Microsoft and Janitor Willie on an income scale, things will look very strange.

Wealth bothers me the most. The thing says that, "Wealth refers to a household's net worth in 2001. People in the middle of the distribution have between $50,000 and $100,000." I don't know if that includes all assets of the estate or not; my comments are based upon the understanding that "wealth" is wholly asset-inclusive. At some level, I am disturbed by what having $100,000 in wealth means and how far ahead of the rest of the country it puts you. Case in point: One of my best friends and his wife work in the financial industry. They're nowhere near the level of people from The Bonfire of the Vanities, and they don't work in one of Virginia's large cities. Yet, they just recently bought a house that cost close to a quarter of a million dollars. It obviously isn't paid for yet, but if you include the house's sticker price in their asset computation, they're ahead of 85% of the country in terms of wealth. They're both under thirty.

I suppose the solution is to suggest better fiscal discipline on the part of the lower rungs of this particular ladder. Less cigarettes, more certificates of deposit, if nothing else. I understand that the lower rungs of wealth would obviously not be able to tuck away five digits' worth of savings every month, but even so, a slight program of regular savings at small interest has to pay off sooner or later. Deferred gratification works, doesn't it? (Yes. This message brought to you by the people of the United Methodist Church.) You'd think that sheer human greed would motivate people to have more wealth, whether through increased salary, participation in the financial markets, or what have you. Money has a particular effect on me, for instance. I respond to money approximately like Kirsten Dunst's creepy little Claudia in Interview with the Vampire responds to her first taste of human blood: "More, please." You'd think that this would be a rather universal reaction.

At any rate, this survey taught me a couple of unpleasant truths. I certainly don't regard myself as some sort of socio-cultural economic elite, but the objective data would certainly suggest otherwise, and I'm not even that great of an economic performer. It bothers me at some level that the gap between myself and the man in the blue collar job probably can not be bridged, no matter how hard the blue collar man works. I, on the other hand, could theoretically improve my salary by an order of magnitude or two if I won a couple of cases, much like former North Carolina senator John Edwards. In the words of a cartoon character, "Zoinks!"

I'm also somewhat irate about the high level of prestige attached to lawyering. Sure, it's a high value job. Does that mean that it's more important than say, the guy who picks up your garbage? That I don't know. I'd regard the garbage man as a foundational job, 'cause without him, I'd be up to my nose in rank filth. Ask New York City what it's like when the garbage men go on strike, especially when the Top Fifth isn't about to dirty its hands dealing personally with the problem.

Organized civil society has problems when the guys the Times suggest are on the bottom don't do their job. It's like an army: The generals may plan grand strategy and the staff may concoct the perfect orders, but none of that's worth a hill of beans if Private Beetle Bailey decides he's not sending the orders, or doesn't want to drive his truck aggressively so that supplies get through.

There is an inherent dignity in all honest labor performed well, regardless of what the Times and its snobbery thinks.

It would seem that, based upon these factors and their yield, the following:
1. Your correspondent is better off than he thought he was.
2. Additional effort must be made in the philanthropic effort. As TR's speech to the Sorbonne put it, "To you and your kind much has been given, and from you much should be expected."
3. Even the seemingly modest (and relatively unsophisticated) economic goals of your correspondent are, apparently, pretty lofty when set against the rest of the country.
4. A certain sense of unease about the economic position of the country as a whole. I know that these data are the results of choices both conscious and unconscious, but they're also the result of externalities that the average individual can not, for whatever reason, overcome. That ought to be the bloody role of the government in the economy, making sure that we arrange things so that the man who wants to climb out of say a poverty-stricken background can do so with a fair amount of personal effort. The man from the Hamptons who is born into his third or fourth generation of wealth is no more accomplished---and perhaps less worthy of praise---than the man who comes from the poverty line to create a better life for himself, his wife, and his children.

Put in racing terminology, the man who wins from the pole has less of a victory than the man who starts 43rd and finishes 15th.

Well, now you know what I think.

Tip of the Executor hat to Grim's Hall.

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Things that Go Bump in the Old Dominion

While looking for a news story that didn't exist, I found the following:

Haunted Places in Virginia

I've heard some of these stories, and others seem to be jokes, or something. Nevertheless, they're interesting reading to hear about what goes bump in the Commonwealth.

NB: The Chemical Brothers are weird.

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WFB on HST

To continue with our slight coverage of the death of Hunter S. Thompson, here's a piece from William F. Buckley on the man.

It's kind of harsh, but it's what I'd expect from someone so far on the opposite end of the writing field. I'm amused by WFB's recounting of the San Francisco Chronicle's statement, that Thompson served as a hero to an entire generation of American students. I suppose that would be a generation not my own; if it were a generation that was forming some time in the 1970s, it might explain why literature is so boring these days. When you resort to either David Halberstam on baseball or Walter Russell Mead on foreign policy for page-turners, the American novel is well on the decline. (Or even a book on diesel locomotives of the Norfolk Southern Railway...--Ed.)

Read the whole column.

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James Woods, Oddity

James Woods was just on CNBC's The Big Idea with Donny Deutsch. I'm not sure why he was there, but Deutsch, an annoying and abrasive New Yorker, got him to say a few things of interest:

1. Deutsch was asking Mr. Woods about his opinion of the ABC program, Desperate Housewives. Woods said something nice about the whole thing, and noted that although he hadn't dated Nicolette Sheridan, he liked "British chicks". James Woods, you just went up another notch in my estimation.

2. He repeated his story about seeing, on a flight earlier in 2001, some of the al-Qaeda operatives who would later pilot various aircraft into military and commercial targets inside the continental United States on 11 September 2001. I either had never heard that story, or had heard it so long ago that I had forgotten, and I found it somewhat amazing.

However, the people at Snopes have found this story credible, so go figure.

Lastly, Mr. Woods had the following points to say about mayors of New York City:

-Under David Dinkins, New York City was like Beirut in the 1970s.
-[Former Mayor Rudolph] Giuliani was/is a great leader who saved NYC, both on 11 September and in the time prior. Furthermore, he was a great statesman, etc. In addition, Giuliani will be a great President after 2008.

---

Well, I'll say this: I think more of James Woods than I did prior to this interview, but I must disagree with him on Mr. Giuliani's Presidential prospects; I'll not vote for him in a primary. Social issues matter, Mr. Mayor, and you're on the wrong side of a couple of mine.

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Blast It, Biggs

I've tried for over a day now to come up with some coherent post on the death of Hunter S. Thompson.

Since you're not reading it, I have of course not produced what I was looking for. It wasn't going to be an attempt to ape the style of Thompson---sorry, my internal organs are more precious than that---but I did want to say something, since I cruised through several college courses (and at least one law school course) using some variant of his approach.

Not that I had the money for his kind of living; if I had, it would have been invested in computer games, record albums, and the like. It was college, and I was in a different world.

Despite his loathing for all things Republican and therefore by extension me at some level, I'll miss the mucker. Reading his inane ramblings from the late 1960s and early 1970s gave me an insight on the Other of American life, and that was somehow useful. He was also usually amusing, when his prose wasn't intractable or incompetent. The second volume of The Gonzo Papers was my favorite read of his, because it wasn't the over-the-top crap produced to do whatever it was he was aiming for.

I'll miss the coot.

Selah.

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Ugh, I'm Old

I'm watching Wheel of Fortune since I'm too lazy to change the channel after Brokaw's sign-off, and it appears that the Wheel producers consider Will Smith's The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air as "Classic Television".

I'd been alive for quite some time when it debuted. and remember when Will Smith when he got his "Parents Just Don't Understand" hit. This aging thing, it is occasionally traumatic.

NB: "Classic" television is that which was either in black and white or very early on in color. By my standards, the later episodes of Bewitched don't yet qualify; not even Happy Days fits yet. The Patty Duke Show and The Dick Van Dyke Show are the kinds of things I think of for "classic" TV. Peh.

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Well, That's A Wrap

Tom Brokaw is gone from the NBC Nightly News, and I shall miss him. So far as I know, he's been the voice and face of the evening news in my household since the 1970s, and I can't think of any time that my parents, or me, went elsewhere.

Somehow, Brian Williams doesn't carry the well-worn gravitas of Brokaw, but I will probably stick with NBC anyways.

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OK, So It's the Holidays

I always look upon the end-of-the-year holidays with a sense of dread. Why is this, you ask? It's simple, really. From mid-November to the first week of January, I'm usually gorging myself on really good food, and other ruinous behavior. Part of this problem is exemplified by three things:

1. Boiled custard. This rich drink---our replacement for egg nog, which is noxious---usually gets guzzled by the carton per day. It's that good, even though the formula got changed in the last two years, and it's runnier than usual. It's delicious, darned near impossible to wash off out of a glass after it's dried, and it's full of things that would make a health nut sick. I haven't spotted my brand in stores yet, but when I do, I'll be buying twenty or thirty dollars worth.

2. Cordial cherries. These little pockets of evil ought to be banned. Even now, I'm sitting here munching on some, and I've already eaten a third of a tray. Yes, I'll probably have horrible sugar-fueled nightmares (thanks to Raptorman for giving me the longest running subject matter for nightmares that I've ever had; even xenomorphs don't scare me as much as ravenous corpses.) That being said, at least I haven't found a cherry pit yet this year.

3. White chocolate Oreos. These things go great with boiled custard. They go great with themselves. I'm no fan of standard Oreos, and chocolate generally is a take it or leave it thing with me. On the other hand, I can eat a box of these things in a sitting. They're devilish little discs of arterial doom, but I, in the words of a penitent Theodore from one of the Chipmunks Christmas albums, "couldn't help it". Tee hee.

Yeah, so I'll probably have to like go on a starvation diet after 07 January, but that's OK. Food is fun.

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