PMSimon.com

It's past sundown on Yom Kippur, and I suppose I should wrap this up and start observing, but I know I'm going to work and drink and probably eat at some point, so I can't even start the charade of pious observance. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate the meaning of the day. It's hard, however, to think about atoning after the year we've had. I'm sure that I can come up with plenty for which to atone, but so much has happened TO us as opposed as BECAUSE OF us that the whole thing seems surreal. Apologize? Okay, but under the circumstances, I'd say we did pretty well.

I'll think about the things I'd like to take back and I'll think about being a better person. I'll just do it while doing other stuff, too. Doesn't make me less sorry. And on that note of rationalization, I'll talk to you tomorrow night.

 Share

It's Monday Night Football time, and that means I'm planted on the couch in front of the plasma screen. Having an HDTV means I get to see the Eagles screw up much more clearly. For some reason, seeing Buckhalter fumble twice within the 5 and the Eagles defense playing back on its heels isn't any more enjoyable in 720p resolution.

But it's early, the Igs are in the lead, and I want to believe, even if they just gave up a 53 yard field goal. Now, excuse me while I plot the course of destruction if they can't beat the crummy Packers at home.

 Share

From All Access today:

"There's a poet out there who says 'you can never go home'...that guy's an idiot," DEMERY told ALL ACCESS.

Thomas Wolfe. "You Can't Go Home Again." Book title. Not a poet, dude.

I love when radio people try to act all edjamacated and stuff.

Sigh.

 Share

I've been watching the FCC open hearing on media ownership today, and without an exception, every single speaker said one of the following things:

1. Big media is bad. Bad, bad, bad.

That's it. And most of that insinuated that the big owners- they couldn't agree whether it was five or six- are evil conservatives who are preventing the public from getting good programming and music.

They have a point in this: the TV networks now can own and favor the production houses in which they own an interest. Yeah, that's bad. But most of the comments were about things like "I recorded a WONDERFUL song that those terrible radio stations wouldn't play" and "my news story wasn't covered because of those bad media companies" and "I can't get a job because of the big bad media." Everyone agreed that they have the right to be heard and seen on radio and TV. And they believe that they are entitled to a job in the media.

Since when? Hey, I want that deal, too. Forget qualification- I demand a high-paying network job making programming decisions.

There were also several people who used their time to espouse their politics, from the woman upset that she can't hear Pacifica in the high desert to State Senator Gil Cedillo upset that broadcasters don't support illegal immigration. One woman even ripped Ronald Reagan, just a few years too late. Another ripped Clear Channel for playing a parody song and wouldn't give up the mic, finally chanting "ownership limits" over and over. And there were more than a few old lefty guys with grey ponytails and dotty middle-aged hippie women complaining about Fox News. (I particularly enjoyed the woman who looked like Selma Diamond and sounded like a cross between her and Mrs. Big Head on "Rocko's Modern Life")

And the Internet doesn't count, it seems. You can get any programming you want on the Net, but the commenters basically said that only the big broadcast outlets count. We're in an era with unprecedented opportunity, unprecedented avenues for access, and these people are living in a world where they think they can't reach people.

One guy stepped forth to espouse the free market. He had the biggest balls in the room, because nobody there- maybe the three Republican commissioners, but that's it- agreed with him. He got boos. He was right, of course- he pointed out that today, you can hear Rush and Franken, read Drudge and Kos, get both sides, but they booed him, maybe because he's right and they know it.

The audience ate up the lefty stuff, though, hooting and cheering like a particularly hungry Arsenio Hall audience. Why they thought anyone with an opposing view would show up, I don't know. They probably didn't. I wouldn't. I can't imagine going into a room filled with rabid Pacifica listeners and try to point out that they have MORE, not less, access to audiences these days, and that nobody's owed a living in acting, or broadcasting, or music. You want access? You have the web. You have cable leased access. You have streaming. You can create something with little or no investment, and if it's good, it'll reach an audience. And if it's crappy or boring, well, you're not owed an audience.

But I'm not testifying. And I don't have any great love for the big media companies- I don't work for them, I usually disagree with their decisions, and I think they screw up on a regular basis. I just think that these public whinefests are pointless- it's like being forced to listen to Air America or Pacifica for hours on end. It won't convince anyone about anything, and all it does is offer people a chance to whine in public. That's not a bad thing for democracy, mind you, but, man, I wish I didn't have to listen to it.

 Share

Paul Richardson is dead. He was the Phillies' organist since 1970, and he was the typical cheesy ballpark organist, but I like cheesy ballpark organists. And the Phillies were particularly cruel to him when they moved to Citizens Bank Park and banished him all the way to deep left field against the back gate, practically in the parking lot, ignored. Remember?:

Guy deserved better.

 Share

Working late, took a break for baseball, rain. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Back to work.

Don't have time to write. But Joe did- read his take on ABC's penchant for bit-starving their HDTV broadcasts and his side-by-side apples-to-apples comparison by clicking here.

"The Letter" tomorrow. I know, you can't wait.

 Share

This week's "The Letter" newsletter for All Access spends other people's money, but wisely...:

This week, a modest proposal for a probably unworkable solution to a problem that some people don't even think exists. Fun for all! You might want to delete this thing right now.

NEXT WEEK: Probably something about how one of the things everyone says will change radio forever is already here and nobody's noticed it yet. How's that for a tease?

 Share

Here's a message to the guy in the red Ferrari that kept buzzing back and forth on Palos Verdes Drive West while I was running the other day: not impressed. I was looking in another direction, at this:

The crappy cellphone picture doesn't do it justice- it's a line of speedboats in formation, led by a couple of helicopters. I don't know why they were out there or what was going on, but I and everyone else on the path stopped to watch. A stupid Ferrari doesn't compete.

And, dude, really, the huge yellow Ferrari banner in your windshield isn't impressing anyone, either.

 Share

Last night, while Kenny Rogers was shutting the Yankees down, we went to the movies. We saw "The Departed," and if you want a movie review, I'll be talking about it on Turi Ryder's show on KIFR (106.9 Free FM)/San Francisco sometime between 7 and 9 pm Pacific time tonight. But the lasting impression I took from the movie wasn't in the performances, or Scorcese's insistence on an often-inappropriate classic rock soundtrack, or some choppy, strange editing. No, it was the guy in the back row of the Regal Avenue 13, theater 6, who reacted to every plot twist and revelation with this:

"Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!"

It was that sound some people make, the sound you might make when you realize that, say, a big secret is about to be exposed. "Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!" All night long, "Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!" The guy was an adult, and he couldn't help himself. "Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!" "Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!" "Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!"

The best line of the night wasn't in the movie. It was Fran saying that it sounded like we were watching the movie with our cat.

"Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!" Jack may suspect Leonardo. "Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!" Matt may have exposed his own duplicity. "Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!" Marky Mark may have figured it out. "Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!" "Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!" "Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!"

Every once in a while, I forget why moviegoing is such a pain, and then I get reminded. "Nnnerrrrrraaaaaaah!" The English translation: "I can't tell the difference between seeing a movie in public and seeing it at home on a DVD where it won't bother anyone if I make this noise all night."

That, and the guys at the urinals after the movie who apparently couldn't figure out the plot.

The movie? It was good, not great, and long, but anything more is for the radio tonight.

 Share

Nobody got beaten to death. There was nothing particularly embarrassing to the city of Philadelphia. And the Eagles won.

I'll happily overlook the fact that they came a few yards from choking this one away in a manner that might have been even more agonizing than the Giants debacle, saved only by Bledsoe's poor choice and Lito Sheppard's being in the right place at the right time. (And he came perilously close to being tackled and fumbling before he made it to the end zone, but at least he realized his mistake in time) Another painful win. I'll take it.

By the way, did that guy who used to play for the Eagles actually show up to the game? I didn't really notice.

 Share

Google bought YouTube. YouTube has deals with labels and networks.

That means you can say goodbye to the stuff that makes YouTube addictive, stuff for which someone somewhere probably owns the copyright and probably didn't even know it until now.

Stuff like Marilyn Monroe playing soccer:

Or the goals scored in the 1957 FA Cup final with Aston Villa beating Man. United- Busby's Babes losing the year before the air crash tragedy:

Or Coltrane's "My Favorite Things" on a TV show in 1961:

Or a full episode of the "GE College Bowl" from 1966, complete with Robert Earle and the NBC color peacock, pitting Agnes Scott College vs. champion Princeton:

Or excerpts from the legendary Wallace and Ladmo (still "It's Wallace?") from KPHO-TV in Phoenix in 1965, including live commercials they can't do on kids' shows anymore:

Or Reg Presley and the Troggs lipsyncing and pantomiming their way through "With A Girl Like You" in glorious black and white:

Or the long-lost animated 1954-55 opening to Groucho Marx' "You Bet Your Life":

Instead, we'll get useless officially-sanctioned clips that aen't nearly as cool as this stuff. It's already happening: NBC has "sneak preview scenes" from "Friday Night Lights" and "30 Rock" and "Heroes" posted, and CBS will be doing the same. Not interested. I want the random stuff, the ephemera. If YouTube becomes just another conduit for the same crap the networks air in primetime or music that the major labels are selling, I'm gone.

Now would be a good time to pray, pop culture aficionados.

 Share

I made a rare foray away from the comfort zone today to have lunch with a friend at his place of employment, which happens to be a TV studio upon which pictures of his face are plastered. (Watch his show, willya?) Nice lunch, great to renew acquaintances, and it's always interesting to be on a studio lot. Fran and I worked on the Universal lot yesrs ago and kinda got accustomed to it.

The pros of working on the lot:

1. Occasional celebrity sightings.
2. Employee discount at the studio store, which can mean anything from cheap DVDs to discount HDTVs.
3. Free movie screenings, sometimes.
4. Bragging rights. Out-of-towners are impressed.

The cons:

1. Celebrity sightings are overrated. For every time I saw, say, John Travolta or Whoopi Goldberg on the lot, there were many more that necessitated explanation: "you know the guy who was in that movie? You know. That guy. With the hair. The GUY. You know."
2. The studio store never has anything you'd want, unless what you want is a coffee mug with the studio*ls old logo on it.
3. No popcorn- or anything else- in the screening rooms.
4. Everyone will tire of your "guess who I saw" stories really fast.
5. Parking's always a bitch. Plus, the commissary food sucks and some PA or producer-type is going to come close to running you over with a golf cart. And a lot of people on the lot walk around looking miserable.

That's why, I suppose, I haven't been particularly aggressive in pursuing TV work for a while. No, I don't see any celebrities here at the Home Office At the Edge of the Earth. No discounts or free movies or bragging rights, either. But I see Fran and Ella the Cat every day, I can have all the popcorn I want while watching movies in the living room, parking is plentiful and free, and all I see are happy, smiling faces (assuming Ella would smile if she could). Hollywood's interesting, but I'll keep Palos Verdes.

 Share

Too busy today, so here's a visual, an SUV parked along my run today, snapped with a crappy cellphone camera:

Yeah, you want to go to a doctor who sues.

 Share

This week's All Access newsletter should have been out by now, but it's held up somewhere in the system. Nevertheless, here's a sneak preview:

OK, this week, it's a very quick primer for those of you who find yourself on the air when a major news story hits the wires. I had another topic ready to go, but it can wait until next week.

Next week, I'll get to my originally-intended topic of how the future of radio may have already snuck in through the back door, and what it might mean to your career, if I can figure that part out. I have another week to do that.

 Share

I'm watching an episode of "CSI" on the DVR right now, and they're doing a post-mortem. I could be doing the same for Air America Radio tonight, although technically they're not dead yet. Of course, anything I could point out- the lack of entertainment value, the stubborn insistance on reinventing the wheel with overstaffing and a battalion of writers, the inexperienced hosts, the shrill and unceasing litany of Bushliedpeopledied Kos-speak, the extravagant spending- is what a lot of others in the radio industry knew from day one. Mistakes were made, a lot of them. That's not news.

I'm no liberal, of course, but I still don't think it's impossible to make liberal talk work. There's an audience, but it's not for the politics, it's for the entertainment. Get an interesting and compelling personality and you get an audience. Make it fun, knock off the lecturing, and for God's sake don't make the mistake of thinking that anyone is dying to hear what Al Franken or Janeane Garofalo think about anything. Simple.

 Share

The Steve Lyons firing seems like an overreaction, I guess- I didn't hear the exchanges with Lou Pinella, but they seemed not to be completely inexcusable, just inartful and stupid, kind of like his Shawn Green comments. The stuff about the blind guy was worse, but that wasn't him alone; Thom Brennaman was part of that, too. They could have waited a day, let Psycho finish the series, then just not assign him to the World Series and quietly let him go. Maybe Pinella was more offended than he let on, maybe there was more to it off the air that we never heard. I don't know.

But I do know that I was far more offended by something Joe Buck said Friday night. In the ninth inning, with Billy Wagner in for the Mets, Buck started in on what he considered a relevant stat, something about how Wagner hadn't blown a save or lost a lead or tie against the Cardinals since 1999. He appeared to think this was significant, that it would offer some insight to what was about to happen.

He'd have been right, of course, had all or even most of the variables been the same or similar for thw past seven years. But today's Cardinal lineup isn't 1999's, or 2000's, or 2001's. And he's been with three teams in that time. Buck's statistic? Meaningless. So Wagner had exhibited mastery over a uniform. Was that important? Or was it a way to sound authoritative?

Everybody's focusing on Lyons' goofiness today. Nobody says a word about the utter uselessness of the stuff most network sportscasters spew. Maybe we get the sports announcing we deserve. At least we still have Vin Scully.

 Share

Nice to see Andy Reid hasn't learned a damn thing about clock management. No time outs left and the Saints took advantage by running the clock down after the two minute warning to kick the winning field goal and deny the Eagles a shot at tying the game. In a close game, wasting your time outs is just bad coaching. No excuse, and I'm tired of his bland "I take the blame" post-game pronouncements. If you're taking the blame, when are you going to pay the price? How many games like this can you take responsibility for losing before you have to pay for it?

Bad defense- the Eagles secondary is still pathetic- a terrible performance by the offensive line and a befuddled defense means that the Eagles are going nowhere right now. Add to that bad coaching- Reid makes incomprehensible decisions followed by his standing on the sideline looking like the Tums haven't taken effect yet- and you get a team that's lucky to be 4-2. I'd be looking forward to basketball season, but the Sixers will be lucky to be mediocre this season. Maybe I should just take a sabattical from sports this Winter. It would certainly be good for my blood pressure.

 Share

I could tell you about my day right now, but then I'd have to explain how I managed to be caught naked in my own house by a stranger.

I don't feel like explaining this at the moment.

Let's just say it was an accident involving a mistake in schedules, a shower, two inadvertently unlocked doors, and a language barrier. I'm still traumatized. I'm sure the person who saw me is traumatized, too. Nobody needs to see that. Fran doesn't need to see that. I don't want to see that, but I can't avoid mirrors. I think therapy may be in order- for the stranger and for me. But how was I to know "don't come in here" and "wait fifteen minutes" weren't universally understood in Los Angeles circa 2006? If I knew that "vamos" would have gotten the job done, I would have said "vamos," but it never occurred to me....

...but I don't feel like explaining this at the moment.

I lead a very strange life.

And from now on, no more housekeepers, handymen, plumbers, gardeners, electricians, or anyone else. Call me Bob Vila. A fully clothed Bob Vila. With a locked front door.

 Share

Oh, lovely. They found a body a few blocks from here, dead by the ocean at the base of the cliffs, a weapon nearby, suspicious circumstances, all that. We're supposed to live far away from that kind of thing. We don't want to have to deal with that stuff around here- it's, you know, what happens over in San Pedro or Harbor City or the LBC. Not here.

And it's along my usual running route, so it's creepy as hell. It's not the first body found there- one sad story a couple of years ago had a girl, missing for a year, turn up as a pile of remains halfway down the slope, her CD player and other accessories nearby, where she'd apparently accidentally fallen off the cliff. Today, I was heading to the post office when an emergency vehicle sped past, then a fire truck, then an ambulance, and on the way back I saw them congregated at the fishing access near the lighthouse, with a KABC-TV truck and camera set up by the little cinder block outhouse at the top of the path to the ocean. When the TV trucks show up down here, someone's dead. And sure enough, when I got home, a four line wire story was already posted.

Maybe it shouldn't creep me out- we don't know anything about the case yet- but it does. On TV, this would be the start of a series about the dark underbelly of seemingly idyllic suburbia, something "Desperate Housewives"-ish. I don't want to live in "Desperate Housewives." I want to live in a wacky sitcom, or, better yet, a gentle Disney family movie, one with nothing but happy people and heartwarming situations. Nobody dies in gentle Disney family movies. OK, maybe Old Yeller and Bambi's mom. But they didn't find a deer at the bottom of the cliff.

 Share

I'm busy, the Mets forced game seven, so here's a space-filling scan, what you'd have been ordering in May 1978 out of the TV Guide:

Giant Shaun, just $4.! The KISS Collage, $2.50! Coneheads! Farrah! Susan Anton?

No, I never owned any of those. But I'd bet you did.

That makes me hungry:

Nothing like some nice, salty explosives to top off the day.

 Share

By the way, I get a lot of readers here, which is nice, but according to the stats page, you know what the number one search term is that brings people here?

Here's a hint:

Yes, "Kandoo." The Kandoo frog. Everyone loves the freakin' Kandoo frog wiping his froggy little ass.

Just thought you'd want to know. Jeez.

 Share

This week's All Access "The Letter" finally gets to what I hinted about for a few weeks, the future of radio that's actuially here right now if you want it, plus a gratuitous and blatant plug for this site dropped in at the end of the gratuitous and blatant plug for the other site:

I have seen the future. Actually, I'm looking at it right now. It's about 6 1/2 ounces, it fits in my pocket, and because of it, I just heard a guy on a Philadelphia radio station arguing with a caller about why the Eagles lost in New Orleans. Live. In Los Angeles.

Next week: Don't know. Depends on my mood. Probably something dashed off at the very last second. Why change a winning formula?

 Share

Hey, look, I'm extensively quoted in the L.A. Times today! Click here to share the joy!

I'm sure they'll sell a record number of copies today because of this. I'm money in the bank.

 Share

We've been celebrating anniversaries for 16 years now, and it's a cliche, I suppose, to suggest that each is more special than the last, but it's true, this year more than ever. And through it all, even as we had to play the hand life dealt us this year, there was never a doubt that we'd make it.

Several years ago, I found a yellow rubber duck in the Dodger Stadium gift shop while killing time before a game, and a year or so later, I found a pink version. They're identical- from the same mold- with the exception of the color, so I guess one's a boy duck- a drake- and the other's a girl. And looking at them the other day, they just seemed appropriate for today, even if the boy version, to be perfectly accurate, should be sporting a Phillies jersey and cap. No matter; we are individuals yet from the same mold, we fit perfectly together, and we squeak when squeezed.

Well, maybe I don't do THAT.

Happy anniversary, Fran. It just keeps getting better.

 Share

Hey, it's late notice, but in case you're in San Francisco and near a radio or if you're online and wanna hear me blather on about movies and TV and stuff, I'll be on Turi Ryder's show on KIFR (106.9 Free FM) in a few minutes (sometime about 8:30 pm Pacific time). Stream is here. Enjoy.

 Share

Donovan McNabb just threw up on the field again. Perhaps it's a delayed reaction to how poorly the Eagles played for most of the first three quarters.

Even if they manage to come back and beat Tampa Bay, there's no excuse for how bad they've been. No excuses.

 Share

It was 21-20 with four seconds left when the Sirius satellite signal cut out as Tampa Bay was setting up for a 61 yard field goal. And the signal didn't return until after the play.

I'm kinda glad, actually, that I didn't have to hear that. I might have put the car in a canyon.

But the Eagles didn't deserve to win, regardless of the comeback. The moronic play at the end of the first half- didn't go for a field goal, didn't throw into the end zone- and the McDougle penalties didn't help. And special teams allowing a 37 yard return on the final kickoff is inexcusable.

If Andy Reid "takes responsibility" at the press conference again, Jeff Lurie should walk in and fire him on the spot. Come to think of it, fire him anyway. Cut McDougle while you're at it. And perhaps it's time to re-evaluate Jim Johnson's genius- clearly, the rest of the league knows what he's up to by now. The only reason I can't say the season's over right now is that the Giants, Cowboys, and Redskins all suck, too, but none of the four teams deserves to be anywhere close to the playoffs.

On the bright side, my Sunday schedule will open up a little more now.

 Share

"Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" is on tonight. We won't be watching. We watched the first few episodes of "Studio 60."

We'll never get those hours back.

The reasons we're not going to continue watching the show are numerous- terrible, phony scripting, look-how-smart-I-am references, those wretched show-within-a-show "comedy" sketches that made it apparent that Aaron Sorkin has no sense of humor. But it still takes a lot to get a show removed from the DVR list.

We record a bunch of stuff to watch when we have time. All three "CSI"s make the cut. "South Park" makes it. So does "House," and "Entourage" when it's on (although it teetered close to getting yanked this season). "Desperate Housewives" still makes the list for Fran, as do "Boston Legal" and "Grey's Anatomy." But this season, there's a lot less to watch. I noticed this recently when i sat down, fired up the DVR, and found practically nothing to watch. Last year, there was more on the must-see list. This year, eh. We have Ted Danson's sitcom on the record list- it's not very good, but we started recording it on the off chance it was funny and it's not, but it's not bad enough to delete yet. We haven't had time for the American version of "The Office," and the brilliance of the British original casts a long shadow over it, but maybe we'll start back up with that, even if Steve Carell will never be Ricky Gervais. But there's no real breakout sitcom, no new compelling drama, nothing making us take notice.

Which is why deleting a show is a momentous occasion. It requires a show to be terribly disappointing or truly terrible, and "Studio 60" managed to satisfy both counts. I'm not upset at having that hour back, though. Maybe I'll use it for something radical. Like reading.

 Share

It's been a long, busy day involving many phone calls and much breaking news, so I'm beat, and all I have for you is this trifle:

In the immortal words of Navin Johnson, the new phone book's here! The new phone book's here! Behold, a relic of the stone age:

Does anyone actually use one of these things anymore? Doesn't everyone use the Net, or some 411 app on their cell phones? Maybe not, because when faced with plumbing or other emergencies, the first impulse is still to use the phone book. But otherwise, I can't remember the last time I've used one of these things.

Throw it on the heap of the obsolete with the VCR and the slide rule- they still work, yes, but there are better ways to get the job done. Good thing, too; as my ability to read tiny type diminishes with age, the necessity of doing so to look up a number diminishes, too. Timing is everything.

No, we're not listed.

 Share

I used to like rain delays. Back then, they didn't throw it back to the studio right away- they'd have the announcers stall, vamp for a half hour or more, tell baseball stories and jokes and rope in whoever was wandering by in the press box, and for a few fleeting moments it made those guys seem human while the flop sweat beaded up on their foreheads.

They don't do that anymore. Tonight, instead of Joe and Tim and Jeannie and Kevin filling time- you'd even pay to watch Tim McCarver juggling or Joe Buck spinning plates on sticks- Fox gave us something far, far worse.

"The War At Home."

I'd rsther watch the rain. More laughs that way.

 Share

This week's All Access newsletter looks at what that White House talk radio tent mishegas says about the industry. It aint pretty, in my humble and probably misguided opinion:

A bunch of talk radio hosts went to the White House the other day for one of those "Radio Day" things, and I guess that if you're a political talker in an important election year, it would seem like a no-brainer to accept the invitation and attend. If I did a political talk show and I thought it would be a chance to get the President or at least some of the big names- Condi, Rummy, Rove- to sit down for an interview I might have considered it.

Next week: The insane rantings of someone who ate a lot of leftover Halloween candy. Don't miss it.

 Share

I'd comment on the large volume of responses I got to yesterday's newsletter/post, but today is allergy day and I've got that feeling like some furry creature has taken up residence in my sinuses. The winds are blowing and it's hot- they must be Santa Anas, because the brown gunk that usually sits atop the basin and Valley is now hovering over the ocean and Catalina like a crust. Meanwhile, for most of the day, the workmen next door were blasting Jack-FM from San Diego loud enough to shake the windows, and it was hard- very hard- to concentrate while some lame Fleetwood Mac song is vibrating the room. Under these circumstances, I just don't have the brain power and energy to write much more today.

So I won't.

 Share

The Santa Ana Wind-borne allergy headache remains unaffected by the Benadryl thrown at it, and the computer's already shut down for the evening, so, via cell phone, I'm here to blow off another day's postings.

We did go see "Maria Antoinette," the entirety of which boils down to one line muttered by Jason Schwartzman, something to the effect of "We're too young to rule." That's about it, except for the stylishness and the music, which includes Gang of Four, Siouxsie, Bow Wow Wow, and the like, which somehow fits the 18th Century Versailles setting. Yeah, it's "I Was A Teenage Monarch," but in a good way.

And now I have to go and tend to my throbbing sinuses, so please excuse me. Perhaps more Benadryl is in order.

 Share

The homeowners' association is holding its annual Block Party right now. We're not there.

I suppose this is bad form and unneighborly, but we've been to several of these things and we felt very out of place. The talk among the locals is almost entirely about their kids, and school things, and kids' activities, and we end up sitting there silently munching and wondering what's on TV. We don't have kids, don't follow what's going on in the local school system, don't work at the kind of jobs the neighbors do- they seem to puzzle over why we're both home all day- and don't apparently share a whole lot of interests with them.

I wish we did have more in common with the neighbors. They seem like nice people, nice enough, at least, and there's nothing intrinsically wrong with them. But every time we show up to a community event, we're alone. We're in suburbia, but not OF suburbia. I'd like to be involved in the community- I've looked into what city associations and panels and committees I could join, and Fran does volunteer- but so far, there's nothing. They disbanded the cable TV committee, the local tech group is a bunch of insular spotty geek types, and there's no point in joining the Chamber of Commerce, since I don't have any business to offer them and they have nothing I need. The homeowners' association is lorded over by an attorney who has that attorneyish tendency to be a my-way-or-the-highway guy (at the meetings, he basically tells everyone there's no option other than what he thinks, then asks for opposing opinions in a way that indicates there ARE none).

So I'm at the computer, the sounds of the kids yelling and playing at the block party wafting up the street and into my window, along with music- Harry Belafonte, if I'm not mistaken. I don't feel like I'm missing anything from the party, but I wish I could figure out a way to be more a part of the community. I've lived here for over 10 years now, but I still feel like an outsider. Maybe it's just as well- after the Eagles game today, I'm not sure I want to talk to anyone again. Ever.

 Share

Okay, so I'm officially getting old.

This evening's priority was to go to the eye doctor and get my vision checked. I still have pretty good vision, but in the last year or so I've been getting that thing where I have to move reading material farther away from my face to see it clearly. Gee, doc, I'm doing well in the tests, so what's the problem?

"You're getting older."

Oh. Thanks.

So I'm getting reading glasses. I'm getting no sympathy from Fran, who's worn glasses since early childhood. They're part of her fashion statement. Me, I've never worn glasses, except for sunglasses. I've always had excellent vision- I can still read the names painted on the sides of freighters in the Catalina Channel several miles offshore. In the tests, I was reading the tiny bottom line with little problem. But move something close up and I get the squints. Needless to say, this is quite distressing.

And expensive. I can't get a cheap pair of Dr. Dean Edell readers at Long's Drugs, because a) they look goofy, b) my ears are slightly misaligned and cheap glasses look lopsided on my face, and c) I have a slight case of astigmatism that they won't correct. So instead, I had to go for an eye test and measurement, and I had to get frames that didn't make me look like I bought a cheap pair of Dr. Dean Edell readers at Long's Drugs. And instead of nine or ten bucks for a cheap pair of Dr. Dean Edell readers at Long's Drugs, it was, er, more. A lot more. Hundreds more. Granted, they're trendy/quirky- you know the hotheaded young CSI guy on "CSI:NY"? Kinda like his- and they're custom and anti-glare and prescription, but, still, that's another expensive thing I wasn't anticipating having to buy. But I gotta be able to read, and so instead of a cheap pair of Dr. Dean Edell readers at Long's Drugs, it's an expensive pair of Ted Baker frames with special lenses, with a special free bonus of extreme paranoia that I'm gonna lose them or sit on them in the car or otherwise abuse them. I'm not good with sunglasses, but I'm going to have to be good with these.

My dad had good vision, too. He didn't start having to use glasses until he was in his... well, maybe about my age, but not really very much until he got to his 60s, at which point he had big reading glasses, tortoise-shell aviator jobs that brought to mind Swifty Lazar or Lew Wasserman. And while my father was in most ways a man who I would do well to emulate, on this one I had to go the opposite way. I'll rock the little trendoid frames, not the Mr. Magoo type that magnifies your eye so you look perpetually surprised. I'm surprised enough that I'm... I'm... you know. Older. I'm not ready for this.

There are worse things, like my knees that don't allow me to run much faster than a plod. I check the top of my head on a regular basis, looking to see if any more scalp is showing. I've already been through one bout of tooth disintegration. And now this. But I'm not yet eligible for any AARP discounts, so I can still cling to a few more years of relative youth.

And if you ask nicely, they'll serve you the senior specials at Coco's even if you're not a senior yet. At least, I think that's what's happening. I hope they don't think... nah, couldn't be.

 Share

We're sitting here in the living room watching TV and waiting to dispense Sour Patch candies to the local urchins. We've only had two doorbell rings so far- it'll pick up later, I guess, but it tends to be feast or famine where that's concerned. We alternate from year to year, fromso many kids we run out of candy to so few we have candy for the rest of the year. I hope the latter doesn't happen, because we took the drastic step this year of buying candy we don't like. We don't want to eat that stuff, don't want the empty calories, don't want to get stuck with a huge pile of sour crap. The kids like it, so I hope they come so wecan get rid of it.

I had the NBA opener on for a while, but the Heat apparently thought that there wasn't a game scheduled following the ring ceremony, so we switched to an "all-new 'House.'" And that's where we stand now, waiting for kids to beg for sour sugary crap and watching Hugh Laurie gain a new nemesis in a ticked-off David Morse.

And it's all very boring and suburban, but considering where we've been this year, it's remarkable that we're back to this. And comforting. A year ago, we were in the same place doing pretty much the same thing, blissfully unaware of what was to come. Then we were living in a "House" episode and dealing with real-life frights. And now, we're back to watching "House" on TV and dealing with little kids dressed up as ghouls who go away when you throw sugar at them. I'm no Halloween fan, but this year's model is preferable to the real thing.

 Share