PMSimon.com

That is the LAST time I try that blood pressure monitor at the Ralphs pharmacy department.

You stick your arm in and press the green button, and the sleeve tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and OH LORD MAKE IT STOP and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and tightens, and you start to pass out, preventing you from hitting the red button to be mercifully released, and finally it beeps and lets you go and shows that, surprise, your blood pressure's on the high side and you really should have it checked, you know.

I'm going to go rest up now. Mustn't allow my blood pressure to get too high.

 Share

Tired.

Trying to keep my blood pressure down.

Did I say tired?

Tomorrow.

 Share

If you grew up within range of Mets radio broadcasts in the 60's and 70's, Lindsey Nelson was the comical, clownish father, with a unique, honkingly nasal voice and sports jackets that appeared to be sewn together from scraps of fabric from dozens of sportcoats past. Ralph Kiner was the slightly befuddled cousin, the ex-jock with lots of stories about his playing days, few all that interesting but still appreciated.

And then there was Bob Murphy, the Murph, the avuncular uncle, no-nonsense but with a deceptive wit and a wealth of knowledge. He seemed to gargle with whiskey and tobacco, and had the kind of red complexion that made him appear to be about to explode, but above all, he sounded like baseball, sounded like the voice you wanted to hear on a summer evening with the windows of the Rambler rolled down on the way to the Old Barn Milk Bar for ice cream. He wasn't Vin Scully, not quite Harry Kalas either, and he was without apology a homer for the Mets, but he was good, and when the Mets won and he told you to stay tuned for the "happy recap," well, you did.

In later years, the voice became raspy, weaker, the comments somewhat more pointed, the attitude more crochety, but that was OK, because he was the Murph, and he earned it. You were grateful that amidst the blandness of the rest of the Mets broadcast crew, you still had some Murph to tide you over. And then, after last season, he retired, and now, he's gone, amidst what I expect will be a ton of tributes employing the "happy recap" line. Corny, yes, but if you can't be corny when an old friend dies...

Some voices disappear after the speaker is gone. Some you never forget, whether or not you have any tape of them. My mom and dad's voices are lodged in my mind (and, sometimes, when I'm really tired, I'll sometimes slip and say something in an accent like my mom's, substituting a "t" or even an "s" for a "th"). Bob Murphy's voice changed in the last few years of his life, but in my mind, it's still 1969 and Lindsey, Ralph, and Bob are still on scratchy, weak WJRZ calling the action and it's summer. Murph and Lindsey are gone now, but somewhere, it's always summer, the Rambler's pulling out on Greenrale Avenue and we're going for ice cream. Happy recap indeed.

 Share

There was an article in the L.A. Times yesterday about the difficulty of artists in getting their war and political protest songs on the radio. The article talked about their reasons for being anti-war/anti-Bush (for Tom Waits: "the trigger was a need to address the war in Iraq in intensely human terms." I get that need, too, sometimes, but then I pop a Rolaids and it goes away) and the difficulty of getting airplay in such repressive times:

"At first it surprised me when I heard somebody ask, 'Where's all the protest music?' " says Meg Griffin, programmer and host of two shows for Sirius Satellite Radio. "I'm seeing a lot of it, but I realized why they'd say that, because where would they hear those songs?"

Anything that might polarize listeners is considered anathema in commercial radio.

No, anything by artists who are generally unpopular is anathema in commercial radio. Look at the artists cited as having new anti-war anthems that aren't being heard (except, ostensibly, on Meg's show): Tom Waits. Steve Earle. Loudon Wainwright III. John Fogerty, Keb' Mo'. Not one of them gets played on the radio in general, not because they're bad or good or that they wrote and performed political songs but for one simple reason- they make noncommercial music that the general top 40 or rock or pop or country audience just hasn't ever really taken to, no matter what the lyrics. (Fogerty's an exception, but when was the last time you heard a NEW John Fogerty song on the radio? And then there was Loudon Wainwright's one hit, but his new one can't be a patch on "Dead Skunk," although I haven't heard it yet) What, Tom Waits can't get his anti-war music on the radio? Tom Waits has NEVER gotten his music on the radio. (Public radio doesn't count)

Moreover, the idea that commercial radio won't play songs (or artists) critical of the President is plain wrong- Jadakiss, mentioned in passing in the article, actually suggested Bush staged the 9/11 attacks in a song and it got played right to the top of the charts, with some stations bleeping the line but many others playing it intact. The mass radio boycott of the Dixie Chicks was a myth- only Cumulus, one company, briefly removed the group from their playlists, and Clear Channel never did ban them.

Here's an idea- how about if a CURRENTLY POPULAR recording artist writes a catchy, hit tune and puts pointedly political lyrics to it? What would happen then? A hit, probably. Instead, you get Loudon Wainwright III recording some folky thing and saying:

"I must say I was really happy when I wrote 'President's Day'... (b)ut the thought did occur to me that maybe I should be careful about singing it. That's not a good sign when you start worrying about a visit from one of John Ashcroft's people because of a song you wrote."

Because there have been so many raids on political dissidents by the Attorney General's office. And I'm fairly certain Loudon Wainwright III is right up there on the top of the list. He's so dangerous.

 Share

In the portfolio of Radio Stars enjoying a baseball game at Dodger Stadium, here are two entries from this season, for your entertainment and my space-filling purposes:

Mr. Larry Wachs, formerly of Atlanta's "The Regular Guys," April 2004. Mr. Wachs was granted an extended period of time to enjoy such pursuits by his employers at the "Clear Channel" radio emporium after an unfortunate incident which shall remain a mystery to the world.

Mr. Ken Chiampou and Mr. John Kobylt, "John and Ken" at KFI/Los Angeles, taking in the August 5, 2004 game while contemplating the overthrow of a California Congressperson. Mr. Kobylt is indicating with his gesture the recent trajectory of the show's ratings.

Coming soon: Dr. Laura Schlessinger pinch-hits for Jeff Weaver... and draws a walk.

 Share

All I needed to do was to get to the barbell and lift a little weight- a few reps from the incline bench, a few from the flat bench- and I could get out of there and go home. Unfortunately, Fridays at the gym have of late been plagued by the appearance of the Underemployed Thick-Necked Recent High School Graduate, several of them, with shaven heads and the tendency to hog the free weight area admiring themselves in the mirror and having conversations like this:

Neckless #1: You workin' today?

Neckless #2: Nah, slow.

Neckless #1: Mmm. (thinks) Uh, you... what...

Neckless #2: (as if he understood the question) I'm thinkin' about goin' to Bryman. (Ed. Note: Bryman is a "college" that advertises on Channel 56 during "21 Jump Street" reruns. I believe it's in the U.S. News and World Report college rankings under "Not Selective")

Neckless #1: Mmm.

Neckless #2: Or somethin'.

Neckless #1: Mmm.

And meanwhile, they have their stuff- towels, CD players, gloves- strewn on all the benches. And here's the pattern they use- 10 reps, then about 5 minutes of puttering around or using some other machine while leaving their stuff by the weights, then back for another 10 reps. Want to use the weights? Too bad- they're "using" them. I finally just said "I'm gonna use this while you're over there talking," took his weights off, put mine (a lot less) on, and did a reduced number of sets just to get out of there.

My point: life would be a lot easier if other people were not involved.

Oh, I'll make exceptions. Fran is one, of course, and I'm pleased that there are people who deliver my mail and perform in little comedic playlets on the television contraption for my amusement, and the way some people take flour and water and tomatoes and curdled dairy products and convert them into a wondrous comestible they call a "pizza," well, that, I like. But I don't want to have to DEAL with those people. The ones on the TV are somewhere far, far away- like in Studio City or something- and need no interaction. The postal carriers come and go and never make any physical contact- that works. Pizza? I'll slip the money under the door, you leave it on the doorstep, I'll pull it in when you're gone.

Alas, even living here in remote Rancho Relaxo, I still have to deal with people. People who operate banking and financial institutions to make me jump through hoops to handle my father's estate. People who come and unclog our drains and lecture me on what not to flush despite the fact that I never flushed what they claim we did (sorry, sir, but we haven't even SEEN "Handi-Wipes" in several decades, let alone flush them down the toilet). People who want donations, who drive like maniacs, who jam the weight room at the gym and make me wait around for an eternity just do do my routine.

I understand the appeal of home gyms. I understand the appeal of hermitry. I understand the appeal of Greta Garbo.

 Share

It's official. I'm a jinx.

Every time the Phillies come to town, I show up at Dodger Stadium for at least one of the games. Every time, I see the Phillies lose.

This year was no exception. I couldn't go to Friday's game, and the Phillies bombed L.A. I did go to Saturday's game- took Fran, had regular seats instead of the usual hovering in the press box- and they rode Paul Abbott's inept pitching to a miserable loss. I couldn't go Sunday, and they won.

I give up. I can only see my favorite team three games a year out here, but I have to stay away. From here on out, I promise the fans of Philadelphia that I will stay away from Chavez Ravine when the Phils are here. And the next time they play interleague games in Anaheim, I'll stay away from them, too. I will take one for the team.

Unless they're playoff games. I can't miss those, can I?

(I can be had for the right price, of course. What's a win worth to you, guys?)

This game was also notable for the guys who sat in front of us. Chicagoans of the "da Bears" variety, one beefy, one thin, both loud and boisterous and guzzling beer, the epitome of the Embarrassing Sports Fan, asking incessant questions of the "L.A. is Such a Weird Town" variety ("do people really leave in the 7th inning?"). I played the tour guide to keep the peace, pointing out on request where Vin Scully sits and politely defending the late-arriving, early-leaving crowd. (They left in the fifth with an alarming statement: "I've been drinking too many beers, so we're going to leave now." What do I do with that information? Do I call the CHP? Do I throw myself in front of them and prevent them from leaving until they've sobered up? Do I vow not to get on the freeway for at least another three hours? We- everyone in the row- were so stunned by his statement that we couldn't react.) At one point, Fran leaned over, nodded towards the beefy guy, and whispered "am I glad I married YOU." I thanked her, leaving aside the idea that marrying that guy would have been a possibility at any point.

And it was Hollywood Stars night, the annual celebrity softball game preceding the real game. "Celebrity" as it applies to this game has been devalued to the point where Tom Arnold and Norm MacDonald are at the top of the list- I swear, the "who the hell is THAT?" quotient for this one was sky high. (Anthony Kiedis and Michael Clarke Duncan were at least familiar if not all that impressive- Jamie Kennedy and Rob Lowe were, well, you know, not A-list, and Adam Rodriguez is as familiar as the rest of the lineup got) The biggest disappointment- the hugely obese guy called "Gordo" was NOT the Gordo of "El Gordo y La Flaca" on TV- at least I'd heard of the "El Gordo" Gordo. This guy was a counterfeit Gordo. The biggest ovation- not much of one, actually- was the anticlimactic appearance of Fernando Valenzuela, anticlimactic because he's there every night (he does the Spanish radio broadcasts on KWKW) and because a stunning number of people in the stands had no idea who he was until Tom Arnold, doing a horrible and unfunny running commentary on the P.A., said "uh, Fernando!" Suggestion to the Dodgers: time to end this thing. Or put it before a Phillies game again, so I won't be there.

And Bob Saget is no longer a "celebrity." Just thought you should know that.

 Share

No sleep last night, or almost none- just as I fell asleep, I began to think about my mother. Last week was the tenth anniversary of her death, and at the same time I found some pictures of her in a file and remembered how much I miss her and how long it's been. Ten years. Damn. I can still hear her voice, but fainter- she's still with me, but the details get fuzzier with age. The pictures, though... she was beautiful, and special, and as I looked at the photos and her wedding announcement and her citizenship papers, I remembered and I felt the tears coming on, and my impulse was to suppress them, because I'm a guy and we do that.

But then I was alone with my thoughts last night with the lights out, and Mom came back, and Dad, too, their voices echoing in the darkness, their faces returning with smiles like it all used to be, before all of the bad stuff happened, and then I thought of the picture I found the other day of my Dad at the very last ball game he ever saw, this Spring in Fort Lauderdale, smiling in the bright sunshine as I surreptitiously snapped his photo with my camera- hey, the camera phone's good for something after all!- and I thought of their impermanence on Earth and mine, and all that stuff I wrote before about legacies and death came flooding back, and I had to get up and go in the other room, turn the light on, read something, anything to take my mind off it all.

So I read a little from that Bill James/Rob Neyer book on pitchers, hit a few more pages of the book by Semisonic's drummer, browsed through some David Sedaris and some 1950's and early 1960's TV Guides on the shelf, and Fran came in to check on me, so I decided that maybe I should go lay down and try to sleep. And that's what I did- I tried to sleep. It was mostly staring at the clock until 4:30 rolled around and I got up to work.

I know that what I've written on the legacy you can hope to leave is on target- it's somewhere right after my Dad's death on May 29 if you want to check the archives. I'm not gonna repeat it now. But on the other hand, everyone needs to grieve, and the thing I lost in the whole legal mess that ensued in the weeks following Dad's passing was the chance to properly grieve. I still haven't done so, and I really never got to do that for my Mom, either. It was right back to work for me, mustn't buckle or waver, have to keep going, keep that mind occupied lest I cry or scream or something. Gotta be strong.

That was probably a mistake. I should have taken a few days off to cry, to scream, to curse the fates, to remember Mom and Dad and the legacy they left me and my sister and the people whose lives they touched. I'm paying for that mistake now. Instead of crying, of yelling, of releasing, all I can do is... this. I'm numb. And I expect I'll be numb for quite some time.

But because I didn't say it last week, I'll say it now, in case there's Internet access where they are- Mom, I love you and I miss you, and Dad, I love and miss you, too. If I dream tonight, maybe I'll see you there.

 Share

Look, I, too, have my doubts that Kerry's little sneaking-into-Cambodia story's true. I'm with all the folks who think that the candidate's basically Commander McBragg on this one.

Doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter because it's going to be buried. It'll be big on the conservablogs, it'll get play among the Bush-converted, but in the great scheme of things, it won't get traction, just like the general public kinda gave Clinton a pass when he lied about, well, lots. It's because a) most of the press won't make a big deal of it- hey, it's been out there for a couple of days and it's still absent from CNN or the Times (NY or LA)- and b) it won't matter to most people. And it won't matter because, like the staged filming and the questions over atrocities and the stuff with the swift boat guys, it misses the general point- he served, and that's enough for most people to absorb. He served. He may have served for only four months, he may not have been as heroic as he'd like you to think he was, he may be telling tall tales about his service, whatever- bottom line, all that'll register, fair or not, is that he served. He may be lying about some, even most of it, he may be pathological, but there's going to have to be a lot more than this to cause real trouble among the non-committed.

The guy did nothing in the Senate for 20 years. He's all over the map on every issue, stands for whatever the people near him at any given time want him to stand for, is in favor of abdicating the responsibility for our- your- defense to nebulous international forces who would not have our- your- best interests in mind, believes government plays a role in everything... there's a lot of real trouble in this guy's background, but, just as rehashing Vietnam isn't really a winning position for him, attacking his war record- even if he lied, even assuming he lied- isn't a winner for his opponents.

Unless... unless the press' boredom leads them to play this up with "Kerry Lied" headlines.

But I doubt it.

"I say, have I told you about my foray into the darkest wilds of Cambodia?"

 Share

I didn't think much about Kerry and Cambodia today, or terrorism, or health care or abortion or gun control. I didn't think about education, taxes, or the environment.

I did think about the Phillies' injury troubles and the Dodgers' continuing streak. I thought about buying a new computer, and spent time admiring the Sony with the Arquitechtonica-style hole in the case. I thought about getting the wall in the office replastered, about buying some clothes on sale (which I did), about how I wish Terrell Owens would shut the hell up and catch the ball but how I realize this is what you get with T.O. I thought about Otter Pops, and ate some. I thought about Fran, about Ella the World's Most Famous Cat, about my sister, about my Mom and Dad some more. I thought about paying some bills, and paid them. I thought about cleaning the office some more, and didn't. And now, I'm thinking about shutting this off and going to watch some TV with Fran, then going to sleep.

Which is to say this- pundits and radio people tend to think that everyone in America's obsessed with Bush and Kerry, with Iraq, with all the "hot button topics" out there. And we care, surely we do, but, you know, I have a lot on my mind, and most of it ain't about the election. I care about terrorism, care a LOT about terrorism, hold strong opinions about it, but I really don't have a lot of energy to devote to thinking about it.

But is it right to devote brain activity to Kevin Millwood's pain and whether to drop in a "Family Guy" DVD or a "Father Ted" DVD? Is it right to spend time thinking about whether I'd rather have a Mustang convertible or stick with a staid Volvo? Is it right to focus on my petty little interests, my suburban world of comfort and insularity? Shouldn't I be spending all my time dealing with the serious issues that face all of us?

Yes, yes, yes, and no.

I can't fix the world. I don't have the answers. I can't pick up the phone, call my pal George W. and say "hey, Dub, I'm OK with the war thing, but let's see a plan, dude, and, oh, yeah, by the way, keep the tax cuts going but you're being an idiot on stem cell research" and have him listen and take my advice. I can't call Kerry and tell him "Johnny, you know what, how about going lite on the Vietnam talk and focusing on specifics of what you're planning to actually DO about terrorism and the economy beyond the platitudes, and I'm with ya on stem cells but you might want to lose the tax-hikes-for-the-'rich' thing and maybe come up with ideas that won't cost us an arm and a leg" and have him say yes, that all makes sense and I'll do it. I can't drop into Najaf like Rambo and singlehandedly wipe out the Sadr forces and Sadr himself. I can't fix a damn thing in the world. Even my vote isn't likely to matter, because I live in a state that's pretty much already decided. It's out of my hands.

But I can root, root, root for the not-home team back in Philly, and enjoy myself fretting over being this far back of Atlanta and in the wild card race when we were supposed to be winning the division. I can think about the material goods I'd buy if only I made more money. I can watch mindless TV shows and keep my stress levels low. And I can avoid listening to high-stress talk radio discussing the more important stuff.

For now. You know I'll be back arguing about politics and stuff before long. Right now, though, I have other things on my mind. And I'm okay with that.

 Share

So McGreevey resigns and I see people rushing to call him courageous and his speech wonderful and inspiring. (Even Wonkette loved it- oh, geez, Ana, you got taken. Sorry.)

So it's courageous to cheat on your spouse.

So it's courageous to hire your lover for an important job for which he is not qualified, thus putting an entire state's population at risk.

So it's courageous to lie until someone blackmails you into telling the truth, or at least part of it.

So it's courageous and inspiring to make your confession on national TV while making your spouse stand there with you, stonefaced and embarrassed to death.

Oh.

The issue is not that he's gay- that isn't and shouldn't be important here. The issue is that he used a critical state position- the director of homeland security, across the river from where thousands of his state's residents died on 9/11- to stash his lover. And that he allowed himself to be placed in a position where he could be blackmailed. And that now, he's timing his resignation in order to prevent the people of New Jersey from having any say in who should replace him, the exact opposite of his party's stance when Bob Torricelli ran into trouble after the withdrawal deadline.

Worst. Judgement. Ever. Almost.

 Share

No time tonight, so all I can do is to note that my prayers are with the folks in Florida dealing with devastation tonight. The early reports aren't good, and some of the pictures I've seen- a truck atop a station wagon, houses collapsed, a roof torn off- are disturbing, like Andrew was in Homestead. I was listening on line much of the day to WFLA Tampa, where the 'cane was originally expected to hit, but the action happened down by Port Charlotte and Captiva and inland up towards Sebring; my sister-in-law and her husband (and cat) made it safely out of Tampa to Orlando, and I hope they don't get hit too hard as Charley heads up towards Daytona.

I used to think hurricanes were no big deal. Andrew cured that, especially when we drove around Cutler Ridge and Homestead shortly thereafter and saw what can happen. I love Florida, but I'm glad I'm not there at the moment.

 Share

We were sitting at a sidewalk table enjoying our pizza at a Redondo Beach joint when a bald guy in a white car pulls up in the parking space behind Fran's chair, bolts out of the car, and runs into a store. OK, fine, no big deal. Then he comes back out, jumps into the car, and it's still nothing worth noting until something comes flying out of his passenger-side window and plops on the paveent a few feet away from my feet:

About a third of a partially eaten bagel.

Pig.

And this is why, sometimes, I resolve to become a hermit and never deal with people again.

But then this happened:

Birds showed up and started pecking at the bagel. It wasn't garbage to them, it was dinner.

Things happen for a reason, I guess.

 Share

The loss of the US Men's Olympic basketball squad to Puerto Rico has me so depressed that I can't write a column this...

No, actually, I don't really care about the US Men's Olympic basketball squad.

OK, the Phillies' miserable home stand has...

Forget it. They've been done for weeks, and I know it, and I'm too far away to really get caught up in that.

I... er... I...

I ran out of excuses.

Maybe I'll come up with a better one tomorrow.

 Share

This is what you get when you're a nice guy who gets traded away and finally makes his first appearance in a visiting uniform:

They had a sellout, more or less, at Dodger Stadium to welcome back Paul LoDuca (and Guillermo Mota and Juan Encarnacion, too, or, as Tracie Savage on KFWB blurted on the pregame show, "LoDuca, Guillermo, and Mota"). The first inning reaction: standing O. First pitch: big swing and a miss. Result of at-bat: double play.

You can go home again. You just might not be pleased with everything that happens.

(The Marlins won anyway, and LoDuca was part of the rally against Darren Dreifort, who probably wishes he had been traded rather than get booed by a sellout crowd that resents the fact that he isn't Guillermo Mota)

 Share

From another old TV Guide, this time from February 1960 in Philadelphia:

FLORIDA'S
Most
Amazing
Investment
Opportunity

1 1/4 acres for $695, but hurry, the price WILL go up June 15, 1960. Ten bucks down, ten bucks a month and the land is yours.

So I saw this and I was curious. I know Orlando- I used to do some work there- and I wanted to see if the area for sale ever panned out.

I believe this is the place:

(Thanks to mapquest.com)

The location is fine- off South International Drive near Disney- but there's evidently nothing on it. Florida... undeveloped... "lakes" all around... the word "swamp" comes to mind.

You did, however, get "100% OIL & MINERAL RIGHTS."

 Share

I can't make a decision.

I made it all the way to the point where all I needed to do was to press one button and I'd be ordering a new computer... and I couldn't bring myself to do it. Spending two grand on a new computer is difficult- the problem is not justifying the buy, 'cause I DO need it, but it's deciding which one. I was about to pull the trigger on a customized HP, but I kept thinking maybe I should go for something else, because HP's service reputation ain't all that, and so I've looked at the Sony (ditto). I already have a Dell and I'm not all that hot about their customer service or prices. MPC is out- I vowed never to buy a Micron again, and I won't. Apple- no. Gotta be a PC. And I want PCI-Express graphics, a dual layer DVD burner, a good sound card, plenty of inputs, and some open drive bays and PCI slots. And a wireless keyboard/mouse combo, and no monitor. Is that too much to ask?

No, making a decision is too much to ask. I've looked at Alienware, Cyberpower, iBuyPower, IBM, Dell, HP, and Sony. I need fairly high end, but at low cost. Should be easy, right? (No, of COURSE I realize it isn't)

Suggestions are welcome.

 Share

"We're going to have to let you go."

Those are the words you hear when you're being fired by a radio station. "We're going to have to let you go."

No, you don't. You can keep me on. You don't HAVE to let me go.

I was reminded of this while listening to some of KPOP/San Diego's last day as a Standards station. Clear Channel's changing the format to the liberal talk thing that they're using in Portland and Miami, with a local show in mornings followed by the unbelievably dull Al Franken and the more entertaining but strident Randi Rhodes and Ed Schultz. Fair enough, but it was sad hearing SDRadio.net's Chris Carmichael talking to jock Jerry G. Bishop and saying that the news was "leaked" when Randi talked about it on the air July 1st, and Jerry responding that he and the staff hadn't been told about it at that time and really weren't told much of anything while the Air America people were trumpeting the move on the air for weeks.

That's typical in radio. I've found out about my lack-of-future in trade magazines (swiftly denied by the GM, who, naturally, was telling less than the truth), by rumor, by weeks of management and others walking around me like an invisible wall had been erected, word clearly having spread to everyone except me that the end was near. But it's appalling when your replacement tells the world you've been fired before YOU'VE been told you've been fired.

I'd hope for more class, but it's radio. We have no class.

 Share

Another L.A. local alternaweekly article about radio with me in it written by Johnny Angel?

Certainly. Coming right up. Click here.

And I am not "bookish." Doughy? Maybe. "Bookish"? Moi? Nah.

 Share

From 1960 again, something designed to get you to drop everything and tune in... for laughter!

Looks like a rip-roaring good time, huh? Just check out that wacky expression- it practically SCREAMS "Comedy Tonight!" Ha ha! That wacky M. Hulot! Always a laff riot!

More like a vacation FROM laughter.

Of course, one could posit that this speaks volumes about the Gallic sense of humor, but Jerry Lewis did that already.

(Actually, I quite like the M. Hulot movies. "Mon Oncle" is, despite a Luddite perspective on modernism, an amusing snapshot of late 50's Paris and the clash between old and new. But I digress. And I fill up another item with an old TV Guide scan. Hey, it's the weekend and I don't get paid for this. Whaddya want from me?)

 Share

New stuff at All Access Talk Topics. Took all I had today. Go check that now while I pass out.

 Share

I'm so tired of all of this.

MoveOn.org and the other Democratic 527s crank out the anti-Bush stuff and Kerry says nothing. Finally, an anti-Kerry 527 ad shows up- the Swifties- and Kerry demands it be stopped. Bush then condemns all 527s and demands Kerry do the same.

It's all bull, of course. The 527s, a creation of "campaign finance reform," are doing exactly what they're supposed to do, exactly what the parties WANT them to do. Dirty campaigns? They're ALL dirty, if "dirty" means ripping your opponent's record. You know what? If Bush objects to the MoveOn ads or Kerry objects to the Swifties, attack the substance, not the messengers or the medium. Kerry still hasn't been able to directly counter the Swifties on much of the substance despite the sudden emergence of support from- surprise!- a Chicago Tribune editor, and he STILL can't explain his Holiday in Cambodia. Bush hasn't said word one about the substance of any of the attacks from the 527s. Maybe they're right- people don't really follow what's going on closely enough, nor do they care as much as the political junkies and bloggers do- but it just wears me out.

It's August. We should all be on vacation. Shut up, all o' yez, shut up already.

 Share

"Nobody walks in L.A."

All it took was for that helium-addled yelper in Missing Persons to hiccup that line, and everyone thinks that, well, nobody walks in L.A. Of course, they're right. Nobody does. But I like walking- maybe it's the leftover East Coaster in me, but I think you miss a lot at 45 mph. So when my car was going to take an hour at the dealer for some minor work, I decided to go take a walk to buy some paper at Staples and to admire the semi-industrial scenery along Pacific Coast Highway in Torrance. Where else will you get to admire at close range the marvel of 1970s architecture that is this:

I particularly like the logo, which is the last unchanged vestige of that era:

Check that font. Groovy.

A block away, here's the side of the Ramada Inn you don't see, a long concrete drainage ditch. I wonder how far up it goes.

And next door, like the prince to the Ramada pauper, this:

But the piece de resistance is this gem, found on the Newton St. sidewalk behind the El Pollo Loco. Someone took the time to get down on hands and knees and proclaim this in two colors of magic marker:

And who doesn't?

 Share

In the middle of downloading and installing... drum roll, please... Windows Service Pack 2.

If I'm not back tomorrow, you know it didn't go well.

 Share

Yes, SP2 works.

And it's not bad- no software incompatabilities so far (at least, none I've encountered). But it's nagware of the highest order- you have to tell it to stop bothering you about anti-virus protection (I have it, I have it, stop asking already!) and it feels the need to remind you it's blocking pop-ups. It also manages to strip the pictures out of any HTML mail you get in Outlook- you have to click a message bar to see them- but that's not necessarily a bad thing, and once you click the bar, the pictures load more or less instantly.

The point is, I survived the upgrade. The computer works, for now, at least. And having said that, I fully expect it to crash any minu

 Share

You decide to become a writer.

So you get yourself an education, then you go and live your life, and if you're good enough, then maybe you can put together a book that's pretty good. But publishers won't even open the envelope unless it's from an agent they know, so you send your stuff to agents, network like mad, and even then, you have to get very, very lucky before a publisher even SEES the thing, let alone agrees to publish it. And you get a small advance, the book shows up on Amazon and, again, if you're lucky, in your local Borders or Books-a-Million. You might even get invited to read from it at a local book club or store.

And then it goes away, disappears, or hits the remainder table ("BOOK BARGAINS!"). You keep a box stashed in the garage, in case you happen to run into Steven Spielberg and he says sure, I'd love to see the book you wrote, send me a copy at this private secret address. But then you're back at square one, and you stare at the blank screen in Microsoft Word and wonder why you ever thought you could do this for a living.

Or you administer blow jobs and have sex on camera, have someone write a book with your name on it, and, presto, you have a best-seller.

This is why Ernest Hemingway really blew his brains out. He saw this coming.

 Share

Beloit College (team nickname: "Who?") issued its annual list of Things About College Freshmen This Year That Are Intended To Make You Feel Prematurely Old. The idea is to help you, the old-timer- actually, the school's professors, but they tell you, too- identify better with the mindset of the 18 year old. Of course, it never works that way, for reasons I'll get to after the list. But since this is a big thing for a lot of radio shows, I thought I'd help y'all out with the list and commentary. Here you go:

Most students entering college this fall were born in 1986.

OK....

Desi Arnez, Orson Welles, Roy Orbison, Ted Bundy, Ayatollah Khomeini and Cary Grant have always been dead.

I don't know who Desi Arnez was, but Desi ARNAZ, well, yeah. The only surprises here are Roy Orbison- geez, I saw him live at Great Adventure!- and Ted Bundy, because those just don't seem all that long ago.

"Heeeere’s Johnny!" is a scary greeting from Jack Nicholson, not a warm welcome from Ed McMahon.

Wait a minute, Carson ended in 1992. I remember plenty from before I was 6. I'd remember "Here's Johnny."

The Energizer bunny has always been going, and going and going.

How this would give anyone an insight to anything, well, you got me.

Large fine-print ads for prescription drugs have always appeared in magazines.

Like anybody actually READS those ads. Frankly, I don't even recall seeing any prescription drug ads lately. Maybe it's the magazines I read. But I doubt 18 year olds tend to thumb through "Modern Maturity."

Photographs have always been processed in an hour or less.

Big deal- the fact that photos need processing at all will be history soon enough.

They never got a chance to drink 7-Up Gold, Crystal Pepsi, or Apple Slice.

Nobody did. (Actually, I remember tasting Crystal Pepsi. It sucked.)

Baby Jessica could be a classmate.

You know, I never remember who Baby Jessica was. Was she one of those fell-in-the-well deals? I can't remember and I don't care enough to Google her.

Parents may have been reading The Bourne Supremacy or It as they rocked them in their cradles.

Never read 'em, don't remember when they came out. Again, big deal.

Alan Greenspan has always been setting the nation's financial direction.

He hasn't? Besides, I admit I can't remember who his equivalent was when I was a kid. Kids don't pay attention to that stuff.

The United States has always been a Prozac nation.

Valium, Prozac, Paxil, Miltown, same difference.

They have always enjoyed the comfort of pleather.

So did we- isn't that just patent leather?

Harry has always known Sally.

Why would anyone born in 1986 have any remote inkling of who Harry and Sally were? Maybe they can remake it with Nick and Jessica.

They never saw Roseanne Roseannadanna live on Saturday Night Live.

And it seems like a long time ago for everyone else, too. But does it really matter? They've seen the reruns ad infinitum. I didn't see "I Love Lucy" in the original run, but that doesn't mean it wasn't part of my generation's shared experience.

There has always been a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

No, there hasn't. 1995. They were 9 when it opened.

They never ate a McSub at McDonald's.

Who did? I don't even remember it being on the menu.

There has always been a comedy channel.

Yeah, and MTV and HBO, too. But it's only us geezers who remember pre-cable, when UHF was your exotic specialty dial.

Bill and Ted have always been on an excellent adventure.

Like someone who's 18 even saw those movies. The fact that "Caddyshack" was made before they were born, well, that's different.

They were never tempted by smokeless cigarettes.

NOBODY was. Ever.

Robert Downey, Jr. has always been in trouble.

He was in trouble in the womb. No surprise.

Martha Stewart has always been cooking up something with someone.

To 18 year olds, like everyone else, Martha Stewart is a character on "Saturday Night Live" who's going to prison.

They have always been comfortable with gay characters on television.

So have I and most other people of any age. The discomfort, besides the intolerant, was with networks and advertisers.

Mike Tyson has always been a contender.

He's a contender now? See, I thought he was washed up years ago.

The government has always been proposing we go to Mars, and it has always been deemed too expensive.

They were talking about Mars exploration before that, weren't they? They weren't talking about going to the moon and stopping.

There have never been any Playboy Clubs.

I can't remember when, other than on "Playboy After Dark," there WERE any. You'd have to have been born in the 40's or early 50's for this one to make a difference.

There have always been night games at Wrigley Field.

There's one. Absolutely. What it says about the youth of today, I have no idea, but the fact is indisputable.

Rogaine has always been available for the follicularly challenged.

Uh, OK. I'm sure a lot of 18 year olds are deeply into the Rogaine.

They never saw USA Today or the Christian Science Monitor as a TV news program.

Who did?

Computers have always suffered from viruses.

Yeah? When was the first time you were aware of computer viruses? Since the Net didn't really become a household thing until the mid- to-late 90's, I'd say they remember a time when it wasn't an issue.

We have always been mapping the human genome.

What?

Politicians have always used rock music for theme songs.

What's Bush's rockin' theme? How aout Bob Dole? Oh, right, he used "Blitzkrieg Bop." Or "Beat on the Brat." I forget which.

Network television has always struggled to keep up with cable.

I don't think 18 year olds are even aware of the difference. TV's TV.

O'Hare has always been the most delay-plagued airport in the U.S.

It was always up there. I can't remember a time when "O'Hare" didn't mean "flight delayed" or "missed connection."

Ivan Boesky has never sold stock.

Who?

Toll-free 800 phone numbers have always spelled out catchy phrases.

Uh, OK. They can have it. I'll always have GReenwood 7-5312.

Bethlehem has never been a place of peace at Christmas.

When WAS it?

Episcopal women bishops have always threatened the foundation of the Anglican Church.

What?

Svelte Oprah has always dominated afternoon television; who was Phil Donahue anyway?

Svelte Oprah? Maybe FAT Oprah, alternating with thin Oprah. And Donahue's been on and off since then.

They never flew on People Express.

Big deal. I never flew on Braniff. I still haven't flown on Alaska or Frontier.

AZT has always been used to treat AIDS.

How many 18 year olds know what AZT is? How many adults?

The international community has always been installing or removing the leader of Haiti.

Huh? Where?

Oliver North has always been a talk show host and news commentator.

I think that anyone with any idea who he is knows he was a military guy who was involved in controversy of some sort, actually. He's not just like Sean Hannity.

They have suffered through airport security systems since they were in strollers.

I can't remember ever flying without going through a metal detector, actually.

They have done most of their search for the right college online.

We used books. This is earthshaking for what reason?

Aspirin has always been used to reduce the risk of a heart attack.

I'm sure this is top of mind for 18 year olds.

They were spared the TV ads for Zamfir and his panpipes.

OK, you won't get far with the kids if you make Zamfir references.

Castro has always been an aging politician in a suit.

His age wasn't ever an issue. He kinda looks the same to me, just grayer and wrinklier.

There have always been non-stop flights around the world without refueling.

So?

Cher hasn't aged a day.

Yes, she has. Quite a bit. But if that's the gag, she kinda looked the same in 1963. Besides, 18 year olds aren't her audience. Cher who? Oh, the weird old lady they keep talking about on "Will and Grace."

M.A.S.H. was a game: Mansion, Apartment, Shelter, House.

I have no idea what this means.

So that's the list. Notice, though, that it gives you little information about what the kids know, just stuff they don't know or with which they have limited experience or knowledge. Hip-hop has always been mainstream pop music and culture to them, yet the list doesn't deal with that. Extreme sports? Piercing? Cell phones? Part of their lives, absent from the list. I guess the college doesn't think the professors need to know this, they just need to know what NOT to say.

OK, don't say "23 Skidoo" or "gear," "fab," or "boss." But maybe the school should hand the professors hip-hop-filled iPods and make them watch reality shows. Knowing the schism in the C of E or that the kids don't know who Zamfir is useless.

 Share

Here's the front of the line at today's protests (credit: AP Photo/Joe Cavaretta):

Although I swear I saw:

Or was it

although I'd have preferred

(OK, the Photoshopping sucks. Whaddya want, it's Sunday and I don't really want to spend any time working, you know what I'm sayin'?)

 Share

What struck me in this article about the "yoof" party for young Republicans in New York ("R: The Party") was the following:

(Wrestler) Ivory said she was appearing in a "nonpartisan" capacity as part of Rock the Vote's effort to increase the number of young voters. "We're trying to get 20 million young people out to vote," she said.

And this:

Actor Stephen Baldwin was among those in the crowded ballroom, but he said he was not affiliated with a political party.

"I'm here to try to support faith-based politics," he said. He declined to name his candidate of choice, saying only that "I'm going to vote for the guy who will truly be led by God." Like President Bush, Baldwin is a born-again Christian.

When was the last time you heard celebrities try to disassociate themselves from the Democratic Party? Do liberal Democrats deny- even while standing in a Democratic social event at the Democratic convention- that they're Democrats?

Obviously not. And here are celebrities on hand at the Young Republican bash at the Republican National Convention, being coy about being Republicans. Why is that? Do they fear retribution for being different? Do they fear unemployment if their difference is "found out" or confirmed? Why wouldn't they say, well, yes, I'm a Republican, I support the President, what of it?

On the other hand, considering the