Pic Dump: I spent a few minutes going through some of the pics from the past couple of months so I thought I'd share some of the least embarrassing ones. These are typically from 100-300K. A snap for broadband but will require patience for those of you on dial-up.

From Toronto:

• Chinatown


• The plaza at City Hall


• Deserted street, early Saturday morning.


• Rogers Center -- the stadium formerly known as the Skydome, as seen from the lounge in the Hard Rock Cafe


• Also from the Skydome, an effigy of sports fandom.


• From the Art Gallery of Toronto, an intimate view of the Henry Moore room.


• Also from the AGO, a room from a special exposition on Design and The Future. It is entirely covered in photographs.


• The city's style focus can be painful.


• Not Toronto, but a nice shot of the Horseshoe Falls with the Maid of the Mist at its ultimate destination.

From Ann Arbor:

• A rather well-know mural. Can you name the portraits?


• The city specializes in stencil graffiti.


• A scene from the Dawn Treader used bookstore. Very cool place.


• Encore Records (used music) keeps their most campy album covers on display. Music to Break a Sub-Lease -- heh-heh. Another very cool place.

From New Orleans:

• The view from the room I lucked into at The Ritz.


• One of the riverboats on the Mississippi. Genuine enough for a genuine tourist.


• A view of the Crescent City from the Mississippi.

And yes, I know I still owe you a full accounting of my trip through Canada. Real Soon Now.

Scribbling Status: Where did that week go?

I prepared a couple more hotel reviews for Hotel Chatter, but it looks like only one got posted. My review of Cambridge Suites in Toronto. It's entirely possible the other one got lost in cyberspace. That only means you'll have to wait until my next travel essay to hear about Niagara Falls. [update 5/24 -- Here's the second one on the Fallsview Hilton.]

For the time being, I have sorted things out with Business As Usual's new publisher. So at least that's moving along again. Sadly, it means I have to spend more time re-proofing that damn thing.

After all that, back to fiction.

Armchair Traveling: I have been trying to read The Lost Continent: Travels in Small Town America by Bill Bryson, at the suggestion of my friend Chrissy, who says my writing brings his to mind. I can see why she would say that. He is a total smart ass, and writes relatively terse, irony laced observations about normal things. Bryson is a Yank who went to live in England as a young adult and turned full-on Limey. He returns to the US and undertakes a road trip around the country, avoiding big cities, in a Chevy Chevette and stays at cheap, skanky roadside motels (not my kind of travel, to say the least). Ostensibly, he is in search of the glorious, Rockwell-esque image of small town America, but for the first hundred pages or so he bitches about everything. He gets down on every thing he sees and everyone he encounters. I’m fine with that to an extent, but when it is so incessant it comes to sound mean-spirited despite the wittiness. I almost gave up on it but it slowly seems to be picking up so I’m continuing, tentatively, for now. A full review may follow.

By the way, if you are looking for a truly delightful comic travelogue, I can’t recommend Hokkaido Highway Blues, by Will Ferguson, highly enough. It is a recounting of Ferguson’s adventures as he hitchhikes the entire length of Japan. In the course of it, he rips on the Japanese as well as anyone, but you never doubt his love for the place and the people. One of the most entertaining books I have ever read.

Travelocity Blows (My Mind): Every time I have interaction with Travelocity I come away shaking my head. First off, let me say that Travelocity employees are some of the politest most helpful people I have ever run across. And, within the framework of what I assume to be Travelocity policies, they do an excellent job. (Note: I am guessing that Travelocity out-sources customer support to India, considering the accents of literally every employee I have spoken with. That's fine with me. If all customer services reps were that polite I'd suggest everyone outsource to India.) But here's the thing. The interactions I have with Travelocity make no sense what-so-ever.

You may recall my previous experience (which I commonly refer to as getting pantsed in New York City) wherein I booked myself into a newly-opened, fairly luxurious boutique hotel in midtown Manhattan and, when the hotel decided they weren't ready to open after all, Travelocity re-booked me into a dingy HoJos nearby. I spent about two hours on the phone (mostly on hold) to try to get them to book me somewhere else, this time a comparable property. They said couldn’t; they just said check out of the Hojos and book yourself somewhere else. I ended up staying at the Hilton, which I booked on their website. I have no idea why they could not do that for me -- presumably they have access to their own website -- and instead had me wait on hold for two hours to essentially accomplish nothing.

This time I had booked tickets to the Caribbean on Cayman Airways (last summer), which meant no e-ticket, I had to have paper tickets. Fine, but then the hurricane flattened the island just a few days before I was scheduled to go. I had to re-book within a year and I started the process last week. After a number of calls, I discovered the correct way to do this when paper tickets are involved. So I followed the procedure, which involves preparing a written request for my re-booking and snail mailing it into the "re-issues department" at Travelocity along with my now useless paper tickets. So that's exactly what I did.

Two days later I get an email stating they could not re-ticket me and give me a number to call to sort things out. OK, so I call the number, and after a brief wait on hold a very polite woman listens to my story. She puts me on hold for another few minutes then tells me that I will need to talk to the re-issues department, and then transfers me to them. Head shaker number 1: Why didn’t you just give me the number to the re-issues department in the email you sent?

So I wait on hold for another, oh, maybe 10-15 minutes until I get a very polite woman in the re-issues department. She asks me the same questions about why I'm calling. So I go through that again, and she says, OK let me look up your record. So she looks up my record and recites my story back to me from the record. Head shaker number 2: If you could easily look up my story, why make me go through it again?

So the nice woman proceeds to ask me what flights I would like to re-book on. Since I don’t know off the top of my head, I have to open a copy of the written request I sent in to tell her. That's what I do. Her response is, "Yes, I see; that's what I have here." Head shaker number 3: If you had it in front of you, why did you ask me?

Next, the polite woman says she'll have to put me on hold and get in contact with a Cayman Airways agent. This wait on hold was well in excess of thirty minutes. Presumably she was on hold waiting for a Cayman Airways rep herself. After the interminable wait, she comes back and tells me that my reservation is all set and they will Fed-Ex me new paper tickets. I ask why they sent an email to me saying they couldn’t re-ticket me when there was no problem. She makes some sort of comment about needing to verify something or other, before re-booking. But I didn't verify anything. WTF?

This goes beyond head shaking. This is where we get to mind-blowing. After two hours on hold, I gave them no information they did not already have. I answered no questions they did not already have the answer to. I cannot fathom why I needed to make this call.

So I'm guessing when you need paper tickets re-issued through Travelocity, the policy is as follows:

1. You must submit a written request for a re-booking, specifying the new flights you want.


2. That request will be summarily ignored, but it will trigger an email to you saying we couldn’t do as you requested and to please call.


3. You will have recite the details of your request to a minimum of two representatives, who only then will look at the written request you sent in and inform you that you did in fact request what you think you did.


4. Only at that point will an attempt be made to re-book your flight and you must wait on hold for as long as it takes to get that done.


5. Thank you for choosing Travelocity.

I am so stunned by the consummate lunacy and monumental futility of this interaction that I can’t even get upset about it. Needless to say, I steer clear of Travelocity these days at all costs. I just hope the tickets actually get to me and there isn’t another disaster that makes me have to contact them again. If I do, I shall have to remember to drink heavily ahead of time.

Is This Any Way to Run A Hospital?: The big deal was that last weekend required an urgent trip down to DC that, among other things, required me to spend some time inside a hospital (just as a visitor). Hospitals are truly disquieting places. They are like hotels, but with really, really bad service. But the most unnerving thing is how disorganized and confused everyone seems all the time. It's almost as if the only reason you get any treatment is that a deeply harried nurse happened upon you at the right time. And then, you're lucky if she happens to be familiar with the treatment you need. Or she didn't misread your chart. Or accidentally wander into the wrong room.

Case in point, one nurse upon noting that the alarm was beeping and flashing on an I.V., walked over to it, gave it a look of total confusion, and pressed the "silence" button, then went about her business without any concern for why the alarm was going off and without a reassuring word to pass on, like "That's nothing serious, I'll get someone to come in and check it," just complete indifference to the fact that a flashing red light labeled alarm on a device that was feeding chemicals into the patient's arm was going off. The service industry equivalent would be responding to a complaint about a fly in the soup by taking the customer's soup spoon and fishing it out, then walking away without a word, except in a situation where the customer just had surgery and was dependent on the soup of continued existence (I'm straining for the analogy, I know). Seriously, these hospitals ought to farm out their operations to Ritz-Carlton. At least they could train them to knock before entering a room.

I will grant that this was the only hospital I've ever been to that had valet parking. That was cool. No turn down service though...

Wynn and Lose: It is almost certainly true that I would have given a minor, non-essential organ to be at the opening of Wynn Las Vegas, the new monster hotel on the strip from Steve Wynn, the man behind the Bellagio. Hotel Chatter had some opening day pool pics, which made me drool. So I went to the website of the Wynn to check on rates and availability and was totally stifled. I gave it a few days, and tried again -- same issue. So what else was there to do but write an open letter to Steve Wynn for my dear friends at Hotel Chatter to post. Very cathartic, I must admit.

Off To See The Wizzinator: Am I wrong to get such a kick out of this sort of thing? Just when you thought a pinnacle had been attained by the man -- nay, the legend -- that is Ron Mexico, comes along one Onterrio Smith, running back for the Minnesota Vikings. Onterrio had occasion to take a commercial airline flight, which means Onterrio was up for a potential TSA search. Onterrio was not in a particularly good position to get searched. It seems Onterrio was packing some serious gear. Specifically, a device called the Whizzinator.

The Wizzinator. Can you guess what the Whizzinator is? It's not the kind of item you're going to find at Wal*Mart. The Whizzinator. It's not a device for producing processed cheese. The Whizzinator. It's not $9.95 from Ronco if you order before midnight. Actually, its full name is The Original Whizzinator, just so you won't get it confused with some cheap imitation. The Original Whizzinator is a device designed to produce a clean urine test.

From the article:

The $150 device includes a prosthetic penis attached to a jockstrap and plastic bag. Using a syringe, the user fills the bag with a precisely measured amount of water blended with the urine powder to create a clean sample. When the user takes a drug test in front of an observer, the water is released through the prosthetic with a valve (the instructions recommend the user cough to hide the sound of the valve unsnapping).

Pure unadulterated slapstick. Really, couldn't you envision such a scene in some asswitted teen comedy; Sean William Scott as the quarterback under suspicion has to give a urine sample, so he employs the Whizzinator only he can't get the thing unsnapped so he keeps coughing and coughing. Everyone is looking on in confusion, then suddenly it unsnaps and sprays all over Will Ferrell as the observing doctor.

Except this is real life. The Whizzinator is an actual product that actual people can buy (I refuse to link the site). And Onterrio Smith is an actual football player. One who already has a couple of strikes against him in the NFL substance abuse program. So what does Onterrio do when confronted with said device? Well, he naturally claimed it wasn't really his; it was for his cousin. An excuse worthy of Bart Simpson in his prime. At least he didn't claim it was just in the luggage when he bought it.

I have no idea if the NFL will count this as a third strike. I suppose if they wanted to they could track down the "cousin" and check out his story. On the other hand, knowing the NFL, there's probably some sort of clause that allows them to suspend a player for being in possession of fake penises anyway. And I guess poor Onterrio can write off any product endorsements except for The Original Whizzinator itself, or perhaps certain Larry Flynt business ventures.

Next we come to ACT II wherein desperately bored lawmakers claim the Whizzinator is "violating our trust and compromising our security." Presumably a link to cancer and global warming will be found shortly. The public good requires an investigation. "Are you now, or have you ever been, associated with a fake willie?" (There's a Bill Clinton joke in there somewhere, I'm sure.)

For those interested, you can buy a Vikings #32 (Smith's number) jersey with the name Whizzinator from the NFL shop. Although not for long, one expects.

Odds and Sods: Been a while since I did a link round-up, so here we go.

• I was delighted to see that the best police drama ever produced, The Wire, has been renewed for another season to air next year.


• World's greatest critic, Terry Teachout, provides some quick commentary of the state of the arts, with attention to the novel, that is dead on.


• My kind of travel books. I'm looking forward to versions covering U.S. cities.


• The best eats in NY. Which reminds me that Iron Chef Mario Batali was recently crowned Outstanding Chef of the Year. I'm going to have to sample at least one of his restaurants next time I am in NYC. I wonder why he hasn't opened a place in Vegas yet.


• How well do you know Caddyshack? I got 12 out of 20. Pathetic for an aficionado like me.
• Long gone is the time when the average person could achieve athletic records. The future belongs to genetic freaks.


• Nobody cares that you're a DJ. (Naughty language warning.)


• In the category of sentences I never thought I would read: "There have also been minor terrorist attacks by extremist wine producers recently."

A Pledge: I had to duck out for a four day weekend that can only be described as worrisome but ultimately successful. I'll let you in on some of it later. In fact, I hearby pledge to dump some serious content on you this weekend. Even if I have to put off fiction or review writing.

I just can't seem to catch up.

Plus, I just realized I have to move. The guy who lives below me smokes like a fiend and it literally gets to the point where I can't stand to be in the living room because the smell wafts up from below. Of course, I can't very well tell the guy to stop smoking in his own home, can I? So I have to move. I have to sell this place and move somewhere nearby, maybe an actual house so I don't have to worry about this sort of nonsense.

Plus, I'm having serious issues with the new publisher of Business As Usual that I won't go into here, but it's giving me a basal level of infuriation to deal with whenever the issue of a given moment subsides.

I don't remember a time in the last ten years when I was so completely frustrated with everything.

Whatever the case, new content this weekend. Promise.

Marsha, Marsha, Marsha: OK I had hoped to be able to get a travel article up, and something else as yet undefined, by the weekend, but something suddenly came up. It looks like a may be a week or ten days before I get anything written now. The entire first half of this year has been an complete head spinner. It should slow down soon; it'll have to because I really need to get some stuff done and get back in the swing of writing.

I have to share the latest on HRH Miss Anna's acting career. First she took a role in music video by a very scary looking band called Catatonik. You can download a couple of their songs from the site. Note the ending 'k', which should tell you all you need to know about what a genuinely rebellious group of individuals they are. They could have gone all the way and called themselves Katatonik, but nobody likes an anarchist. Anyway, here's a pic of Anna in full video shoot regalia. Disturbing on so many levels.

The bigger news is that the shooting of the pilot for the potential TV series Signals has gotten underway. Here's the site; read all about it. Also available are a few of pics of Anna in the gallery section, here's one mid-scene (Anna is on the left); and here she is (again on the left) hanging with the "cute boys" on the set. Is that a Mona Lisa smile, or a sneer?

Speaking of pics, I took some good ones on my trip through Canada that I’ll share with you once I get it written up. Sadly, every good pic I took of the Horseshoe Falls also contains an extreme close-up of my thumb. I swear I haven’t done that since I had a Polaroid Swinger in the 1970s. But I do want to share a couple of shots of Canyon Ranch in Lenox, MA. Check out the main buildings, then imagine it in summer (here and here).

Back as soon as I can…

Hold Still, Wouldja?: OK, last weekend in Niagara Falls, then the week at Canyon Ranch in Lenox MA (I think I dropped a couple of pounds), the this weekend in Toronto. I will write about Niagara Falls and Toronto, but probably not CR since I've hit you with spa trips in the past and this was pretty much more of the same (although not quite as good as the previous two). Let me see what I can slap together to post by next weekend.

I made this one a road trip and my loyal Sirius radio receiver saw me through the endless stretches of Canadian farmland. It was cold and rainy for just about the whole trip but I still managed to get some fun in. Short version: Niagara Falls was OK, pretty much exactly as I remember it from childhood. Toronto, on the other hand, is now one of my favorite cities. Trip details, hotel reviews, etc. will be forthcoming.

Question: When a Canadian needs to sleep, does he "need to catch some zeds"? I admit to frezeing momentarily when the spelling of my last name came back as M-A-Zed-Zed... Culture shock.

I did remembr to set my DVR to capture the hopefully triumphant return of The Family Guy tonight. Who's a clever boy, eh? I haven't watched it yet, but I'm sure I'll let you know what I think. It's gotten to be kind of a habit.

Also, I have souvenir featherless chicken buttons. You read that right. It's the kind of bling makes the homies say "ho" and the girlies wanna scream.

New Scribblings: Two new essays over at Blogcritics. First, a review of a We Will Rock You, a stage musical featuring the music of Queen I saw in Vegas last time around. Second, a retrospective on a couple of older Kurt Russell comedies I hadn’t seen in years -- thanks Comcast Digital Cable!

Toob Notes: Deadwood is still clipping along, but not quite at the stratospheric level of the first few episodes this season. I know I sound like a broken record, but the dialog is absolutely mesmerizing as it waffles between striking, almost Victorian, formal beauty and guttural profanity.

This site provides a pretty comprehensive background on what’s fact and what's fiction in Deadwood. Also noted is the actor who is playing Wolcott this season, Garret Dillahunt, is the same one who played Jack McCall last season. Dude has some serious range.

HBO has now produced the best cop show ever (The Wire) and the best Western ever. Amazing work.

In contrast, sitcoms, as we all know, had their golden age nearly a decade ago. The middle seasons of Seinfeld marked the high point. The long slow deaths of Friends, Everybody Loves Raymond, and Will and Grace have marked the whimpering end of that era.

And still, amidst the wasteland of CSI in all cities over 5,000 people, Law and Order down to the meter maid level, and the unmitigated and unrelenting vulgarity that is called Reality, there are wonderful signs of life. The new comedies don't follow the strict sitcom path of gags and irony, instead seasoning their fare with farce, satire, and black comedy. I'm talking about shows like Arrested Development and The Office, both of which tread new ground (well, in the case of The Office, new ground on this side of the Atlantic). You could even lump Malcolm in the Middle or Scrubs in there if you were feeling generous. So things are not as bad as they seem. And as the Dark Age of Reality slowly wanes, we may yet see a renaissance of TV comedy with these shows leading the way.

That is, if they don't get cancelled.

The Ongoing Saga of Ron Mexico: Long time readers will remember my Sick of Vick campaign from a couple years ago. This was during Michael Vick's rookie year as quarterback of Falcons when everyone couldn’t stop talking about him. He was worshipped far and wide, and deservedly so since he was not only demonstrating extraordinary athletic ability but he seemed to be a truly nice guy. So I decided to hate him.

Now you would think I'd feel tremendous gratification at the recent turn of events in his life but, while I do appreciate the indescribably perfect low-brow comedy of it all, I actually kind of feel sorry for the guy.

It starts with a lawsuit, like most things seem to do. Turns out our buddy Mike has a little problem in the privates. The word I'm thinking of starts with H and rhymes with burpees. Yeah, and he also had himself a little bareback roll in the hay with a lass who caught his fancy. Said lass, displeased with discovering she had said condition, decided to initiate said lawsuit. In the course of the suit it emerged that, when visiting the doctor for treatment of his condition, Vick used the alias Ron Mexico.

Allow that to sink in. Ron Mexico. Sweet Fancy Moses! Could there be anything more perfect? Ron Mexico. He needs an alias for when he gets treatment for a sexually transmitted disease and he makes up a porn star name. Ron Mexico. Thank you, God, for keeping me entertained.

Naturally my first thought was, I would kill for a Ron Mexico #7 Atlanta Falcons jersey. Well, it seems I'm not the only one. The NFL (No Fun League) is trying to stifle sales of Ron Mexico Falcons jerseys. Personally, I think this is a free speech issue and someone should notify the ACLU. One suspects this is primarily because the League has decided to push the Falcons in prime time TV -- three Monday nights and a Sunday night, same level of exposure as the champion Patriots. Luckily, it's eBay to the rescue. And, naturally, it was only the blink of an eye before RonMexico.com appeared. In the immortal words of Nelson: HA-HA.

This is why I feel sorry for the guy -- it's just so comically bad. Here he is going be on TV in front of millions of people, essentially one of the NFL's front men, and he's going to have to face opposition crowds wearing Ron Mexxxico jerseys, and tailgaters playing James Taylor’s Mexico in the parking lot before the game, and fans flinging condoms on to the field, folks scalping tickets for "General Remission," while the announcers do their level best not to make mention of it, which will only make it stand out more. What's worse, I’m guessing the groupies aren't exactly going to line up to ease his pain afterwards.

The best he can hope for is a season ending injury before the first kick-off. It's going to be fascinating to see the activity during these games and how the media reacts to it. For now, I transfer leadership of the Sick of Vick program to the above mentioned lass.

Getting Sirius: Now that I am spoiled by the 9 gajillion TV stations I get via digital cable, I had to go out and get a Sirius Satellite Radio receiver so I can have an equal number of stations in my car, because I am all about being so overwhelmed by choices that my attention span drops into the negative. I decided on one of those mobile units that attach to your dashboard but can be removed for security or to plug into your home system. I first went to Best Buy after work where they quoted me a four hour wait on installation. So I shot over to Circuit City where they got to it right away while I went off to get something to eat and troll around at Border's. Ninety minutes later I was all set up. The next step was to call Sirius, or log on to the Sirius website, to set up an account and payment plan. It's cheaper on the web ($10 setup fee, vs. $15 by phone) but their site was not functioning so they gave me the web rate over the phone. Ongoing fees are $12.95 per month, adjusted down for various prepayment packages. Badda-bing, badda-boom, and Bob's your uncle.

Now all I need is broadband and new laptop to complete my transition to the new millennia a mere 5 years late. Broadband will open the door to VOIP which will potentially replace my land line phone with something dirt cheap, although Comcast probably offers and equally inexpensive phone service. Problem with broadband is that I would want to ditch my dial-up ISP and there-by lose an email address and web space that I use frequently. I could make a career out of transitioning technology even for my simple needs. Ain’t technology grand?

Meanwhile, I'm just going to enjoy living in the Underground Garage. (Sirius station number 25.)

Travails: It looks like TSA is about to be put to death. This amazes me for the simple reason that I have never heard of an entrenched, unionized government agency simply going away. I’m no fan of politicians, but the one that made this happen has to be something of a hero. Not that I ever had any problems with TSA--in fact, short of the few weeks immediately following 9/11, I had a harder time getting through security pre-TSA that I did post-TSA. (Except for the time in Charlotte when a particularly sleazy TSA goon decided he needed to search inside my pants.) No doubt I am in the minority. Apparently the expectation is that a lot of security screening will go back to private industry. That’s probably good. At least that way they should be able to fire any complete losers, and if they piss enough people off, an airport can hire a different company. Still in case of a security breach that costs lives, it opens the door to enormous lawsuits. And it certainly won’t prevent cock-ups like what Cory Doctrow over at Boing!Boing! had to deal with. As much as people hate TSA, there are trade offs in all things.

Except Flash animation. There is nothing good about Flash animation on websites. An enormous number of hotels (speaking of travel; yes, an atrocious segue, I know) use Flash animations on their home pages. Why? To show me pretty pictures? You do understand that I would never accept hotel site photos at face value, don’t you? Look, if I am coming to your website I am likely checking rates and availability, possibly location and amenities, but I am never ever trusting you when you try to convince me your hotel is fabulous. I will check Trip Advisor for that. So don’t make me waste time by putting up splash screens or forcing me to download Flash animations, or worse -- both. The vaunted new Wynn in Las Vegas gives you both. Click through to the site and you get the splash screen. Click enter and you get to download the flash application. I hope the hotel is better designed than the website. Please see #4 in The biggest web page design mistakes of 2004. To wit:

You sell an expensive product or you're a fundraiser getting ready to make the ask for a large sum of money.

You walk into a potential client's office, introduce yourself, and place an information packet in front of the client.

As you start to make your big presentation, the client reaches into the packet, extracts the contract/pledge form you hope he'll sign and grabs a pen.

As the client starts to sign the lucrative, long-term contract/pledge, you reach over across the table, grab the client by the throat, and yell "Not so fast, a**h***, I haven't finished my presentation!!!"

All hoteliers listen: Everyone of you should have a page with the following URL: reservations.{your hotel site}.com, which will take interested parties directly to a standard HTML page to check rate and availability. No animations and no ads -- we are already visiting your site with a mind to possibly making a reservation. DON’T PUT ANNOYING CRAP IN OUR WAY. To be annoying in pursuit of a goal is just plain annoying; to be annoying in the pursuit of self destruction in an order of magnitude more annoying. That would be annoying¹⁰, for those of you keeping track.

Anyway, here are a couple of hotel hotlists. A fairly comprehensive one from Travel Intelligence and a less detailed one from Tablet Hotels. Both of these have finds I had never heard about before. Worth a look if you are travel planning for something special, but beware the Flash if you venture to the official hotel sites.

Another Hour Lost: Is it too much to ask that somebody, somewhere mention the Sunday morning time change? I didn't need someone to specifically remind me, I just needed it be mentioned; to hear of it in any way, shape, or form -- a reference in an eavesdropped conversation, a casual comment by a radio DJ, a complaint about losing an hour's sleep from an acquaintance -- anything that would have clued me in. Apparently, the rest of the world is so thoroughly organized and in tune with each other that it's not even worth wasting your breath to bring it up. Thanks. Thank you very much. Well, here's a clue -- I am congenitally incapable of staying on top of such things. It is a weakness I was born with; there's probably a syndrome for it, but I can’t be bothered to research it. And frankly, if you accept that civilization requires that the strong protect the weak, and that it should extend to those whose strength is in the organizational skills and short term memory, it does not bode well for the future of mankind that I was not given the slightest notice. This world gets crueler every year.

Fat, Drunk and Stupid: Ann Arbor is Overrated is a site devoted to, yeah you guessed it, Ann Arbor news and links. Despite the name, it's not overly negative, just a wee bit cynical. They've linked up a Live Journal thread asking for stories of outrageous drunkenness here in Ann Arbor. Naturally a number of dimwitted Joe College-types chime in with their quasi-literate tales of crudity and vomit. To wit:

i drank at this one girl's dorm who i had a relationship with, and we both got drunk to the point of puking. while she was puking, i was calling her a dirty whore and a f***in bitch. two days later, i got mono. and i haven't talked to her since.

Was I ever that hideously stupid as an undergrad? Yes I was. The thought of my former self makes me want to change my name.

A View From Boston: Undergrads aside, here is a write-up on Ann Arbor from the travel section of the Boston globe. All in all a pretty good job, although I would pick the following restaurant nits:

• Way too much emphasis on Zingerman's.


• Gandy Dancer may have the freshest seafood in town, but there are more interesting places to eat in town and just out of town in Chelsea there is the Common Grill which I prefer for seafood.


• The Fleetwood Diner is not really a student hang-out. It's mostly seedy locals.


• Ben and Jerry's on State St. seems to be doing fine to me.


• Arbor Brewing Co. is vastly superior to Leopolds.

However, they get major kudos for even mentioning Kerrytown, Michigan Theatre, Washtenaw Dairy, Fleetwood and The Art Museum, when most overviews never get past Zingerman's and football Saturday.

Crescent City Again: My complete recounting of my all-too-short recent trip to New Orleans is now available. It includes the hotel review I wrote for Hotel Chatter so the first part may be redundant to you if you are keeping up on things.

A Thousand Words Around Ann Arbor: On Easter Sunday I grabbed my camera and headed into downtown Ann Arbor and the campus area to take some shots. Of what? Well, anything that caught my eye. It was a nice way to spend a couple of hours. The city was darn near empty; only the little restaurants of Asian lineage were open. (I was deeply saddened to see that Steve's Lunch, my favorite Korean diner, has apparently passed away. No Be Bim Bop for me.)

I took dozens of pics -- actually filled up the SD card in my camera for the first time ever. I may share more later, but one thing I came to realize as I was looking them over is that Ann Arbor has some of the creepiest statues I have ever seen. Really creepy. At first glance they seem OK, but when you really look at them, well….

This fountain is normal enough. Seems a bit clunky and awkward maybe, but not too bad. Then you look at the frightened little kid with the bowl haircut melding with the fishman and you think, uh, must be drugs.

The sea nymph riding the carp seems a little childish, but nothing too strange. But look at the face of the nymph and tell me that doesn't scream of autism.

Most disturbing of all is this oddly proportioned "rampant unicorn". Almost Dali-esque. But look at the rider. She seems to be growing out of, or melting into, the unicorn. And she doesn’t seem to be liking it. In fact she appears to be almost numb, as if being semi-morphed with a rampant Dali-esque beast is her accepted fate for all eternity. Nice subject matter for a garden statue. That is, if you are in HELL and it is the garden of SATAN.

These are the sculptural equivalent of fairly tales like Little Red Riding Hood or Hansel and Gretel; seemingly innocent stuff until you look deeper. I'd lay odds that there are a minimum of three Ann Arbor based artists that have created works entitled "It Puts The Lotion In The Basket" somewhere in their collection.

Did I mention the Hash Bash is this weekend? Yep, this is where I live.

Spin Me Right Round: You may not believe this, but I just got back from four nights in Vegas. No really, I did. You see I was so far behind in my life that the only logical course of action was to pack up and head to Vegas. This time Kate and HRH Miss Anna flew out to meet me (it was HRH's Spring Break) and it was nice to be able to impart some of my hard earned Vegas wisdom, since it was their first trip.

With Miss Anna in tow, I did very little gambling. A brief blackjack session at Dr. Han's Fortress of Evil the Imperial Palace, and a shorter one at the TI, was all I could really manage. No poker. No sports betting. There was much good food, however. Wolfgang Puck's Postrio and Chinois, Emeril's Delmonico, Tom Moloney’s Aquaknox; but I saw no reason to alter my stance that Todd English's Olives is still the best of the strip. (How’s that for celebrity chef pretensiousness?)

We managed a brief, but nerve-wracking (for the ladies), visit to the Top of The World restaurant at the Stratosphere, caught a showing of We Will Rock You, an energetic, supercilious musical based on the songs of Queen, over at Paris, and I got an Ashiatsu massage (the one where they walk on your back) at Canyon Ranch, and a highly civilized, straight-razor shave at Truefitt and Hill.

I ducked away one night to bar hop with a couple of other folks I knew in town. We managed to hit at least four nightclubs, including the terrific Mix at the top of THEhotel at Mandalay Bay -- sweet, expensive place; incredible view of The Strip; not very crowded (on Sunday night anyway) -- after which I had a bracing and beautiful 3AM walk all the way up The Strip back to the Venetian where we were staying.

Don’t know if I'll be able to write this one up fully. I may do a show review for Blogcritics, possibly a hotel review for Hotel Chatter, or maybe nothing. I still haven’t gotten my last New Orleans trip documented as I promised, to say nothing of writing fiction.

Still far, far behind. Guess I better go on another trip.

Using My Rare Breath to Ramble: Still no let up; it'll be a while before I get back to normal. The only encouraging thing is that Sunday is the first day of Spring. I will have made numerous trips this winter in attempts to find some warmth and each time I ended up with tepid temps and sporadic sunshine. Never again. The lesson: Go Further South -- Caribbean, Mexico, or even Hawaii if I can swing it. No more of this namby-pamby stuff.

Anyway, I did manage to write up some quick comments on the Ritz-Carlton for Hotel Chatter (I appear there under the handle of dzot), where I stayed all too briefly while I was "down The Quartah." Do take a look. Don't worry, you'll still get a full write-up on Nawlins, this is just a preview. I also should mention a review I wrote previously about the hotel where I stayed in South Beach last; can’t remember if I linked it up before.

Right at this moment, Heat is playing on one of the 978 channels I get on digital cable. It contains a famous scene where Al Pacino (the cop) and Robert DeNiro (the crook) and have a cup of coffee in a diner -- two sworn adversaries respectfully sizing each other up. It’s a famous scene because it's the only time DeNiro and Pacino shared a scene in their entire careers (although now that they are both backsliding into self-parody it could easily happen again). The scene itself is not that good. The dialog is uninspired, but the two actors do their typically excellent job of lending it weight. There has always been some debate as to whether they were actually together during the shooting of this sequence since there is never a shot where both faces are in the screen. Every shot is an angle on one of them from behind the other so you see the back of the head of one and the face of the other. My guess is they were together but I can't really say definitively. In any event, the movie is stylish but the subject matter is pretty standard cop story where we have a neglected cop spouse, we have a crook with a sliver of a lonely heart, and we dwell on the parallel personality traits between cop and crook. It's about as good as that kind of movie can get. Worth watching, but it wouldn’t it have been nicer if DeNiro and Pacino worked together in something more dramatically significant?

BTW, I've never thought as highly of Pacino as others. Any time he has been in proximity of DeNiro he gets his clock cleaned. In The Godfather II Pacino acted like a zombie except for bursts of anger. DeNiro remarkably took a character that spoke very little English and whose older self was pre-defined by another actor (Brando) and made himself into a perfect early version of that character. DeNiro in GII, Raging Bull, Goodfellas -- the guy was absolutely incomparable.

Good grief. Why am I going on for paragraphs about irrelevant crap? I need to get to sleep. I'll check back in a few days.

Falling Falling Falling: Falling further behind, that is. Of course, that’s because I have spent the last few days in New Orleans. A full accounting will be forthcoming. It started out unexpectedly Ritzy and ended with me stranded in Atlanta. But for the moment I cannot even get it together enough to make a list of everything that URGENTLY MUST BE DONE now that I am back. I hope to use the weekend to return to my usual backlogged state. Posts are likely to be rare (er) for a while.

One note before I beg off; I actually left Bourbon Street early on Sunday night so I could catch the season premiere of Deadwood, which has become the most amazing show on TV -- better than The Sopranos or Six Feet Under. That’s a flash judgment based on the season premiere; I will make full and definitive evaluation at the end of the season. If you haven’t seen Deadwood, go rent the first season (or watch it on InDemand) then beg, borrow or steal your friend’s recordings to catch up on this season from the premiere.

(Notice, I still haven’t gotten my fancy-schmancy DVR integrated into my lifestyle yet, or I could have stayed on Bourbon Street as late as I wanted and caught up when I got back.)

Toob Uber Alles: Let me just say Comcast digital cable is exceedingly sweet, as are two-tuner DVRs, both of which I have had since Friday. Since then I have:

• Watched two delightfully cheesy movies. One: the bizarre cult horror film Suspiria. Not scary -- often amateurish and silly -- but oddly mesmerizing. I was surprised to discover that I could be mesmerized by cheese. Behold the power... Two: The Silencers, a goofy '60s James Bond knock off starring Dean Martin as Matt Helm. How I miss the days women were all voluptuous and dumb, and men were unrepentant about their coarse sexuality. Nowadays that only exists in porn.


• Seen three great movies from years back. One: Hope and Glory, a fond and funny remembrance of growing up during the Nazi blitz of London (how's that for an ironic pretense). It was hell for the grown-ups, but a blast for the kids. Two: Grosse Pointe Blank which is run many times a year on cable but always hacked worse than Jamie Lee Curtis in a slasher flick. This was the first time I ever saw it untouched and uninterrupted. Fabulous. Worth the monthly fee all by itself. Three: another cult favorite, Clerks. Rarely shown on TV because it is virtually impossible to edit out the naughty bits. Brilliantly raises juvenile toilet humor to high art. You can tell it's art because it's in black & white.


• Seen two movies that weren't terrible, but I'm glad I didn't pay to see them in the theatre. One: a curious, dark and surrealistic effort from the Coen bros. called, Barton Fink. Not entirely sure what to make of it, but it was very stylish. It featured a brilliant lead performance by John Turturro, who has to be one of the most malleable actors around today. Two: Gangs of New York, which was poor Scorsese, thereby making it about average for everyone else. Too long and overwrought, and uncharacteristically miscast.


• Recorded shows like Carnivale, Iron Chef America, Nero Wolfe reruns and Curb Your Enthusiasm reruns in the background, while watching other shows in the foreground. Whoa.

And coolest of all, if at any point in my viewing, even during a live broadcast, I needed to use the facilities, I just pressed pause. But even if I didn't press pause, I could just rewind if I missed something. It was like have a time machine localized around the TV set. Damn, I wish I could do that for other parts of my life. Imagine being able to hit rewind at the blackjack table. And how fun would it be to have a pause button on Bourbon St.?

Gone Gonzo: I wrote a brief obit for Hunter S. Thompson who killed himself a couple of days ago. Insane fellow; a zany character both in his stories and real life. Quality writer with an original voice who captured the transient zeitgeist back in the late '60s early 70s. I enjoyed his work.

Toob Mess: Ok, a confession. I have, for the past decade, been getting HBO for free. No I did not reply to one of those shady email ads or pay some shady character for a strange looking black box. I did nothing, it was just there. In fact, when I first realized I had it, I never changed the channel for fear of losing it. But it stayed with me, through at least three different VCR/DVD/Tuners and two different addresses. Naturally, I became completely attached to it. It started with the Larry Sanders and Dream On and now it's Deadwood and Curb Your Enthusiasm. And if it wasn't for HBO I probably wouldn't have seen any movies made since 1987.

So you can imagine my trauma level when it disappeared Thursday. I went through all five phases. Denial: It's just a glitch, it'll come back tomorrow. Anger: Wait 'til I get those Comcast bastards on the phone! Bargaining: Maybe if I order high-speed internet they'll let me keep it through the end of thee month. Depression: Oh gawd, now I have to watch Karate Kid 2 on TBS. Acceptance: OK, OK I'll pay.

Except I won't pay. At least not right away. It turns out switching to digital cable will get me not only HBO, but about 7 different HBO variations, about 50 more channels than I have now, about 40 digital radio stations, and a Digital Video Recorder (a TIVO), for a year, for less than I am paying for basic non-digital cable. This is truly a world gone mad.

This is so cool. I am going to have lots of new excuses to do nothing and it won’t cost me a thing. Now I have to buy an HDTV and a recliner.

How To Dismantle a Carry-on Bomb: So there's this woman who got really upset at the stupidity displayed by her airline. As a insult, she chose to inform them that if she had a bomb they would never find it. Needless to say, high jinks ensued.

Now, it was a stupid thing to say. But I have a lot of sympathy for the woman since the airline in question was Mesa Airways which I have previously declared to be The Worst Airline Ever. Were I not deathly afraid of getting a full rectal exam by a semi-literate TSA agent with chillingly fat fingers, I would have had much more coarse words for them.

Here's the rub. As expected, TSA detains her but her bag still gets loaded on the flight. Upon arrival at it's destination, the plane is ordered to taxi to a far side of the airport where her bag was removed from the plane and searched on the runway by TSA. They found no bomb, so they blew up the bag. Go ahead and read it. Am I making this up?

Now I am willing to accept the possibility that Mesa Airlines, The Worst Airline Ever, could so fluster a terrorist the she would defiantly claim to have a bomb in her bag that they couldn’t find. It is quite likely a factual statement. Mesa Airlines, The Worst Airline Ever, couldn't find an Airbus 380 if it was parked in their boarding area.

But man did TSA screw the pooch here. First, they let the suspect bag on the plane. Once they did that, if they were sharp, they would have done anything to keep a low profile. But no, they have to pull the bag out on the runway and blow it up. Think about that, they couldn’t find a bomb in it, so they blew it up their own selves. I have this picture of a toothless fellow with a vapid grin and a TSA jacket, lighting the fuse to a cluster of M-80s and tossing them into the bag, then cackling with glee after the explosion.

I'm sure this was done to teach the woman a lesson about mouthing off…hmmm.

Look, I kid. It's nothing serious. I am a humorist after all. I love TSA. I think they perform a vital service with great care and courage. And I'm grateful for how they go to the trouble of wearing gloves during body cavity searches.

Sorry I Missed You: I had to duck out of town at the last minute last week. Stupid, lying, anonymous FBI informants. Anyway, things are back to resembling normal for the moment. I still can’t find enthusiasm for doing anything. It's just something I have to fight through, I suppose.

I'm in the process of reading Small World, by David Lodge. Lodge is a wonderful humorist, specializing in academic satire. He often focuses on naive characters caught up in the various forms of insanity the world has to offer, which he describes in that understated way the British employ to depict absurdity. Small World is a sequel to Changing Places, with shared characters and similar themes. I had read Changing Places years ago. The third in the trilogy is Nice Work. I suspect I will read them all and review them in time. (Although I may have to take a time out and read something by Bill Bryson upon the recommendation of my friend Chrissy who says my pathetic attempts at travel writing bring him to mind. We'll see.)

Shaken Not Stirred: Over at MI6, the James Bond news site, they have picked up on an old review I wrote after reading the James Bond thriller Casino Royale. Go over for a visit. (Sadly a couple of my favorite lines were edited out, you can read the original by clicking on the sidebar link). While there, I picked up a couple of little tidbits of interesting information. One, apparently in an effort to increase sales, the American release of Casino Royale was renamed You Asked For It and was given one of those sleazy '50s erotic paperback covers -- a graphic is featured in the review, it's a riot. Also it's interesting to note that they report the next James Bond film – which will not star Pierce Brosnan – will be based on Casino Royale. Interesting that they are going back to original source material. I doubt they will follow through with my suggestion in this essay that they take it full-on retro. That would be too much to ask.

Panic In Detroit: In case you didn’t know, next year's Superbowl is slated to be held in the Motor City. Apparently, if you build a new stadium for your football team, the NFL rewards you by scheduling a future Superbowl so you can so it off. It doesn’t matter how pathetic your infrastructure is, or how incompetent your city management. Here are some comments on the Jacksonville Superbowl from a UPI article that struggles mightily to make the best of things:

Sportswriters and sportscasters on expense accounts complained there weren't enough good restaurants. Restaurant operators in the downtown area complained there weren't enough customers.

The visitors said it was more fun in New Orleans. Nothing shocking about that.

Traffic at times suffered gridlock. Finding a taxi was almost impossible because Jacksonville, a city of 1.2 million people, doesn't have very many.

And hotel rooms were hard to find despite importing six cruise ships to provide more lodging for people in town for the game and its man side events.

Folks, you ain't seen nothing yet. You think you're going to find cabs in Detroit? Mass transit? Good restaurants? There are 1.2 million people in Jacksonville and pretty much anywhere you go in Florida there is at least some tourist support, witness the emergency cruise ship assistance. Detroit had to hunt for people ot fill out census documents to keep itself over a million in population a few years ago and it gets lower everyday. No low level tourist infrastructure, less general infrastructure.

As long as I have been alive Detroit as been rebuilding. I have come to be suspicious of the notion that there was ever anything to rebuild from. I suspect the whole rebuilding thing was a concept invented at the city's founding by the French to convince settlers not to flee to Montreal. Some things never change:

Next year's Super Bowl will be played in Detroit where the mission will be to show that its reputation for Rust Belt decline is not deserved.

Detroit has done a downtown makeover much in the way Jacksonville did, and most of the other chores are well under way. The makeover is costing $200 million, but it won't be completed by the time Super Bowl XL rolls around next Feb. 5 in the downtown area's new Ford Field.

Snicker. Now the foul-ups begin in earnest. Just for good measure:

It will be the second Super Bowl for Detroit. The first was Super Bowl XVI after the 1981 season. That one was marred by a game-day ice storm that bollixed traffic in the area of the Silver Dome for hours.

Snicker, snicker. And you want to talk hotel rooms? The perfect symbol of Detroit is the Hotel Pontchatrain. I remember from my childhood this place being the ultimate in class and elegance in downtown Detroit. It had a famous rooftop restaurant (Top of the Pontch) and a great reputation for panache. No doubt is was a symbol of Detroit's rebirth back in the 60s. Now read review at Fodors or Yahoo. They include quotes like, "The manager was downright nasty, the front desk person twisted our dissatisfaction around alleging it was personal!", and "In our entire lives this would be the second worst hotel we have ever stayed in" and "Its your money, save it, sleep at a campground", and "worst hotel in US".

Still, the Superbowl is coming, they should be able to fill all the downtown rooms at exorbitant prices when the time comes, no matter how offensive the property and staff. Well, obviously the current owners don’t want to give it a try because the current owners have put the hotel up for auction.

Let's consider that. The area is in the midst of a 200 million dollar restoration. The Superbowl is coming within walking distance. And there won’t be any emergency Cruise ships on the Detroit river. It's just an incredible opportunity for a landmark hotel; once in a lifetime. How could you not get rich? And yet, the current owners want out. One of the Pontch reviewers at Yahoo sums up why:

For those who haven't been to Detroit, here's a summary: Take chicago, board up the first floors of all the buildings downtown, cover the city with a fine layer of filth and pigeon feathers, set a bunch of cars on fire and leave them gutted out as public installations, put scaffolding on everything and leave it for years, allow the cabbies to drink on the job and turn their meters off to jack customers, then make 1/2 the city unemployed.

I would have added "remove all forms of recreational activity and reduce the El to one car which only follows the loop and only goes five miles per hour." That's Detroit. The current owners of the Pontch understand that all the Superbowls in the world aren’t going to change that.

But there will always be people to trumpet how Detroit is rebuilding. They may do this because it is in their financial interest to do so or the may do it out of naivete or they may do it out of abject stupidity, but they will continue to do it.

No sense in being disgusted, might as well be amused. Be forewarned, I am going to be riding the Detroit-Superbowl-Fiasco topic like a mechanical bull in a redneck bar for the next year.

Quickies: The usual random link overflow.

• Is the CTX is the new Hummer? Maybe the new Viagra is more appropriate. The CTX, a giant truck, is being snatched up by at least one Hollywood type. In the future the Chevy Suburban will be an economy car.


• The divine Bellagio has installed a working fountain of melted chocolate. No word on whether they have hired the Oompa Loompas to maintain it. I love that town.


• Where those in the know are traveling, according to the Times of London -- a rather dubious list. Devon in the UK? And don’t get me started on the Dream Hotel in New York.


• A more interesting location in the UK is Battersea, the power station complex that was featured on the cover of Pink Floyd's Animals. Seems they are turning it into an upscale shopping mall with a boutique hotel and stylish residences also planned. All late '70s potheads are hereby called on for a pilgrimage to Battersea for a ritual flying of a pig shaped balloon.


• Better is Islands Magazine list of the 20 most beautiful islands as reproduced at Gadling. I have been to exactly zero of these places. My lameness is profound.


• This is sweet. American Airlines is set to provide a personal media player on its flights. For $7.95 you get your choice of 12 films, games, music, etc. Sign me up. Especially considering they currently charge $5 to plug into the armrest to hear your choice of 8 unlistenable pre-fab music feeds.


• A fine five part article on Bohemian New York. A bit haphazard but very pleasant reading. Save it for your lunch hour.

Going Nowhere: I have been stymied lately on the direction of my yet to be born third novel, Misspent Youth, so I decided I would go back to the beginning and start revising in the hopes of catching a rhythm to carry me forward. Bad idea. I decided I hate it. Not the story, just some of the writing. So I sat down tonight to start revising and an hour and a half later, I had gotten through page 4. I am now despairing of ever finishing it. I have to keep in mind that all work on it is progress and that despair and doubt are part of the process of good writing.

I know all this. I have been through it before. I'll make it through. Won't I?

Anyway, a couple of tidbits to share. First, my review of The Whole Wide World is up over at Blogcritics.

Second, I was going through my pictures from my last trip to South Beach and I have come to the conclusion that my camera is incapable of taking decent night shots. Just like the pictures I took in Vegas, every one of the night pictures was too blurry to be of any use. I tried all the different settings and I made efforts to brace myself to keep steady and they are still severely out of focus. It is a situation worth investigating if I ever have the time. For now just let me share the one picture that is worth sharing from that trip to prove I can take a decent picture. It is the view from the rooftop pool of the Bentley Hotel where I stayed. It wasn't that warm, but it sure looks it.

A New Paris Hilton?: Anna Benson, former stripper and wife of New York Mets pitcher Kris Benson, appears to be on the Paris Hilton career track.

She first came to fame through an appearance on Howard Stern wherein she declared that if her husband ever cheated on her, she would proceed to work her way through servicing his entire roster of teammates (no mention of the coaching staff, management or hot dog vendors) as a form of vengeance. The Mets have had some success with free agent signings this year, although the connection is speculative.

She subsequently claimed she was only kidding, stating:

I've been saying that comment for about six years now. We couldn't believe it turned into such a big deal. We laughed it up. There's no way I would touch some of those guys with a 10-foot pole. I don't care what Kris did. Some of them are disgusting.

Way to save the situation, Anna!

In the midst of all this, she has been pitching a reality series based on her home life as the wife a major league ballplayer. It's no Simple Life, but it's a start.

Most recently, she was seen having a diva moment over not being provided VIP status at a Ludacris concert at the Sundance Film Festival. Her tenacity paid off however:

Despite the valiant efforts of the folks at the door to enforce status discipline, Benson ended up in the VIP area anyway, along with Rocco DiSpirito, Carmen Electra and Snoop Dogg's sidekick, Bishop Don Magic Juan [and, presumably, Mohammed, Jugdish, Sidney, and Clayton].

Still, in this case, I'm on Anna's side. She's just trying to get the same deferential respect that any wife of a pitcher with a career 4.28 ERA and a 47-53 record deserves.

What's the next step for Anna? Clearly, a home made porn video. It could be with hubby Kris or one or more of his (non-disgusting) teammates. But I'm hoping she goes for a teammate's wife. Specifically teammate Mike Piazza's wife, ex-playmate and Baywatch babe, Alicia Richter. But that's just me.

So here's wishing Anna the best of luck in her pursuit of fame without demonstrable talent. You reach for that star, girl. And when we see a South Park episode entitled "Not Another Stupid Spoiled Whore", we'll know you made it.

Dead Calm: I don’t seem to be able to get motivated to do much of anything these days. Read, write, travel, troll the web for post fodder -- just can’t find any enthusiasm for it. Instead, I have been cleaning bathrooms and doing laundry and such. Life on the edge.

A group of my friends is trying to get me to start training for a 100 mile bike race (a "century") around Lake Tahoe in June. It's called America's Most Beautiful Ride. It's certainly appealing; I'm sure it would be a lot of fun, but they are all doing it as part of Team-in-Training, a fairly prominent group that collects pledges for Leukemia and Lymphoma research. Apparently the deal is that if you raise $3800 in pledges Team-in-Training covers your hotel room and ships your bike out west and does a few other sorts of things. My problem is that there is no way I could raise $3800. Most of the people I would ask would be the other ones I was training with so that's out. My company has a donation matching policy, but it only covers things educational, community and cultural charities, not diseases (weird). A shame because if they matched it, I would have just paid half myself and been done with it. So I don’t know what to do. The ride is appealing; I could do my own training and make my own arrangements, I suppose, but that doesn't seem like it's in the spirit of the thing.

Johnny Carson, R.I.P.: Johnny Carson died, which you certainly know by now. Personally, I blame Johnny Carson for my utter failure as a morning person. Throughout my early childhood, I remember staying up to see the monologue, so it was near midnight before I went to sleep, even at a very young age. The pattern was set. Not that I completely understood everything. But that was Johnny Carson's special appeal. He really wasn't that funny or thoughtful, apart from a few clever quips now and then. He was somewhat magnetic and utterly genial, like a dependable neighbor. My Mom used to tell me that she thought one of the reasons FDR kept getting re-elected was that he had a most profound, fatherly quality of making it seem like everything was going to be all right. I'm guessing Johnny Carson was similar. He was there every night (at least until the later years), everybody loved him (including all those famous Hollywood types), and despite always playing it safe he never seemed out of touch or square. The golf swing, the "How hot was it?", the Tea-for-Two dance step -- you knew that the day was a day like any other, and you were about to go to sleep and have another one tomorrow.

I'm guessing his appeal was part and parcel with his personality, which manifested itself in him simply calling it quits and never reappearing. No matter how rich and famous he got, he was really still the dependable neighbor. So when he stopped doing his show, he just stopped being famous. Probably his greatest quality was understanding that fame is the most empty of achievements. Show me another celebrity who understands that.

As for me, I still stay up later than I should, but now it's to watch Family Guy reruns on Adult Swim. Sidesplitting.

Chow Down: Despite my malaise I did manage to visit a couple of new(ish) Ann Arbor eateries lately. So here are a couple of recommendations for the homeys.

First, for the best Italian sub in town you must go to Dibella's. This is a New York outfit that recently expanded here. You won’t find the variety or pseudo-healthy options that you will at Subway or Quizno's, but the spiced up olive oil and marinated sweet peppers make up for that. Great bread too. Treat yourself once in a while. On the corner of Eisenhower and Ann Arbor-Saline in the shopping center where Pier One is.

Second, for fine dining, you should give Eve a try. Very innovative food and drink -- espresso martini, nachos based on fried wontons, amazing chocolate desserts. It's very stylish and somewhat on the small side, so you may want to think about reservations. Downside: the service is friendly, but not the fastest, and the prices are on the upper end. Still I would not hesitate to visit again. They serve a fine, refreshing Mojito (a drink I came to like last time I was in Miami Beach), and on Thursday the set out free appetizers after 9 at the bar. Located in Kerrytown -- where the Kerrytown Bistro used to be -- it's a good option to the usual suspects down around Main Street.

Status Memo: I have finally shaken my illness (hoping not to jinx myself by writing this). And there was a loud Hosannah!

Carnivale has started its new season on HBO and it's not looking particularly appealing yet. Iron Chef America also stared on the Food Network, but while it made me very hungry (Bobby Flay makes some crimainally tasty looking stuff), it was a bit low on campy fun compared to its Japanese counterpart. Basically, the most compelling thing on TV is the reruns of Deadwood, leading up the 2nd season premier in March. The dialog still mesmerizes me, profanity and all.

So with no TV to distract me, you would think I would have had one of the most productive times of my life, but no. Between my decidedly unproductive holiday season and my need to sleep 13 hours a day, when not coughing up lung fragments, I find myself approximately right where I was in late December. A lost month. What the hell happened? Annoying, because I have so much to do. Depressing, because I just don’t have an unlimited supply of months left.

Readings and Writings: I am near to finishing my review of The Whole Wide World by Yvonne Castaneda, which I was supposed to finish over the holidays.

My next project was supposed to be a film/book comparison for Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. I think I previously mentioned that I found the movie to be a remarkable piece of drama, especially in the manner in which it covered so much ground in so short a time without short changing anything important. My plan was to barrel through two books in the Patrick O'Brian series -- Master and Commander the first book, for a solid grounding in the characters, then The Far Side of the World, which was much further on in the series. Following that I would then provide brilliant analysis and insights about how the written stories were converted to film.

Two problems. 1) These are not books you "barrel through". They are not difficult reads, but they are exacting in sentence form and strucutre; well steeped in early 19th century vocabulary and sailing terms. Impressively, they are not boring or tedious about their topic. They are very character driven which is a saving grace. And 2) I have come to learn the books and movie hold virtually no relationship in plot, only characters. That pretty much sinks my plans. I'll finish at least the first book, and I suppose I could review both the movie and the book separately. But I'm not sure I'd have anything new to say about them, so what's the point?

On the Strip: Fun (and funny) stuff going on in Vegas. First, I may have mentioned before that Hooters is opening a theme hotel in the location of the old, and not likely to be missed, San Remo. It makes me giggle every time I think of it. Imagine the housekeeping uniforms.

Second, it's interesting to see that Planet Hollywood is taking over the Aladdin hotel and remaking it in its image. It's a joint venture with Sheraton, so at least they'll have some folks around who know the hotel biz. (Didn’t Planet Hollywood go bankrupt a couple of years ago?) No doubt this has potential to be a hit in the Hard Rock vein. I'd give it a try.

Third, the most hyped and anticipated property on in the history of the strip, Wynn Las Vegas, is scheduled to open in May and is already 100% booked for a full year. Wynn is the brainchild of Steve Wynn, who years ago, ushered out the Rat Pack and ushered in the new mega-resort Vegas with the opening of the Mirage, then set the bar higher with the opening of the Bellagio, both of which now belong to the MGM Group. The genius of Wynn Las Vegas is the attached golf course, the only one on the strip, thus making it attractive to both inveterate gamblers and inveterate golfers. Brilliant. I don’t golf, but I would give the tip of my left pinkie to be staying there for the opening.

Speaking of MGM, their latest plan for one-ups-manship is Project City Center which "will include the development of 18 million square feet of space consisting of a 4,000-room hotel/casino, three 400-room boutique hotels to be operated by world-famous hoteliers not currently represented in Las Vegas, approximately 550,000 square feet of retail shops, dining and entertainment venues, and 1,650 units of luxury condominium, hotel/condominium and private residence clubs." Sheesh.

In a weird way, the most interesting development is that Vivid Entertainment is opening a nightclub in the Venetian. You probably don’t know this, and don’t ask how I know, but Vivid Entertainment is one of the largest purveyors of pornography in the world. What's strange about this is that The Venetian is really one of the classiest places in Vegas. It's a little hokey with the gondoliers and such, but it's more over to the Disney side of the spectrum -- no topless revues, relatively modest costumes of the waitresses. The Venetian is where you find the Guggenheim, and Canyon Ranch for Pete's sake. I'm going to be interested to see if this is an attempt by the Venetian to spice things up, or an attempt by the porn merchants to go legit. (Let's face it, had they opened their club in Hooter's Hotel they would get no legitimacy points.)

It's estimated that 5000 to 6000 people move the Las Vegas every month. That's like the entire population of my hometown of Dexter. Every month! What an amazing, fascinating place.

The Stranger: I am just now emerging from a bacterial haze. It'll still be a couple of days before I'm 100%. This has been a killer.

Hotels With A Jaundiced Eye: In spite of my dire illness, I managed to get a quick review done of the hotel I stayed at in South Beach, along with it's somewhat more rowdy neighbor, posted over at Hotel Chatter -- a truly fun site for the frequent traveler. Sadly, they mangled the formatting somewhat, but you'll get the idea. I plan to do more of this.

Speak the Truth: Tom Wolfe has been going around telling everyone his I am Charlotte Simmons is the first attempt to novelize the contemporary undergraduate experience. I love Tom Wolfe, but let me just say: ALL LIES!!! We know better than that, don’t we? I gotta find a way to ride these coattails.

Stupid Spoiled Whore: Sorry about that. Hope it didn’t trigger your company's profanity filter, but I couldn’t help but think of the recent South Park episode when I came across Paris Hilton's IMDB entry. Check it out. She has a new movie from coming out entitled National Lampoon's Pledge This which, in addition to "acting" in she is also Executive Producer. Can you not hear the voice over: "From the makers of Animal House and Executive Producer Paris Hilton..."

Also, please notice the Cinematographer credit, 1 Night in Paris. Strangely she is not given an acting credit for that, but her camerawork must have impressive.

Sick, Tired and Back: I spent the holidays in Florida. Five nights in South Beach followed by three more in Naples with a side trip to Key West. I'm probably not going to write about it because there were only two sunny and warm days -- the rest were windy and rainy -- and I did little that I haven’t done before. The beach in Naples is still about perfect. Duvall Street is still fun and sleazy tourist cheese. South Beach is still painfully hipper than thou.

In South Beach I stayed at The Bentley, a good quality small hotel with a pretty nice rooftop pool and sundeck that provided perfect views of the beach. The Bentley is more boutique than luxurious, no restaurant, lounge, business center, gym or anything like that on the property. It did have a certain charm and the staff was attentive and friendly, but not much else going for it. I'm officially off the boutique hotel kick, it's sprawling full service mega-properties for me from now on.

Miss Kate and HRH Miss Anna joined me in Naples at a smashingly good beach resort called LaPlaya from whence we took a New Year's Day ferry to Key West. Sadly, HRH was fighting s horrible cold and/or flu which I have inherited from her. So I spent my final day in Florida and my trip home in alternating chills and fever, basically drenching anything coming in contact with me in cold sweat. Did you know that if you shiver and sweat and give voice to a rasping hack, the people next to you on the plane will take especial notice; I do now. Around Noon today the fever finally broke and I think I should be back to normal in a couple of days.

I feel like I've spent a good part of the last six months sweaty and congested. You're supposed to be less susceptible to colds the older you get but it appears to be working opposite for me. This one was weird too. Colds, for me, follow a pretty set path -- a few days in my head, a few days in my chest, with a bit of sore throat all the way through; almost never a fever. This one was insane -- it was moving back and forth from head to chest every few minutes. Truly strange, there were a couple of moments where I entertained finding a doctor because it was so atypical.

This must be very entertaining for you, reading about my phlegm generating capabilities. I'll shut up and get some sleep. I'll try to get back to posting this weekend.

Down and Out in The Winter Wonderland: It's break time. No more posting until after the holidays. I need to write fiction and besides, all I can think to do is vent about winter to you. What a pain in the ass it was to get around in the snow that fell this morning, and the reward for that is a few days of single digits, thank you very much. One day soon I am going have a genuine this-is-where-Cameron-goes-berserk moment.

To remind me of happier times, here's the journal of my last Vegas trip. And I'll catch up with you in '05.

Football Picks -- Week 16: OK, this is the last of them. I'm not posting again until next year so maybe we'll have a recap then.

Here is all the background info. You know the routine by now.

First up teams that are 40+ points superior in DVOA and favored by less than a touchdown. There are none.

Next up, games where a team is favored by 7+ points but has less than a 30 point DVOA advantage (DVOA advantage in parenthesis):

• Indiana (27.5) -7 over San Diego


• Seattle (6.9) -7 over Arizona


• Miami (6.5) -8.5 over Cleveland

I'll skip taking San Diego because of Indiana's propensity for scoring a bazillion points meaning a 7 point spread for them is more like a 4 point spread for anyone else. I'll skip taking Arizona because they are just so bad. So we come to Miami -- this is where I could begin repeating my early season mantra 'The Fins are not as bad as everyone says.' But I won’t. They still don’t have much of an o-line. I think this line is a reaction to last week's fluke win over the Patriots. So as much as it saddens me, I have to take Cleveland and the eight and a half points.

Lastly we come to games where the team with the superior DVOA is the underdog. Here we again have three, including what must be one of the most whacked out lines in history:

• Atlanta (14.5) +5 at New Orleans


• Houston (1.4) +7 at Jacksonville


• Philly (76.7) +3 at St. Louis

I'm going to take the underdog and the points in all these. A lot of what goes into these is the assumption that teams that have something to play for -- some playoff scenario where it benefits them to win -- are going to be motivated enough to do better than the team that doesn’t. I'm not sold on that. See: Miami v New England last Monday.

In fact the PHL-STL game has the most whacked out spread I have seen relative to DVOA. But it is also a special situation. Philadelphia is 76.7 DVOA points superior to St. Louis, but St. Louis is the favorite by 3 points. Now this is probably the result of two things, 1) The injury to Terrell Owens and 2) the fact that Philly has nothing to play for, having clinched home field advantage through the playoffs.

But if you wan to play psychologist Philly does have something to prove in that they need to show they can win without Owens. Also, Philly is still the best team in the NFC. Also, the Rams are the most overrated team in football. I have to take Philly. If I was in Vegas, I'd bet a wad on this one.

So here's the last of them for this year:

• Cleveland +8.5 at Miami


• Atlanta +5 at New Orleans


• Houston +7 at Jacksonville


• Philly +3 at St. Louis

Whatever the outcome it's been an incredible season of picks. Maybe I'll quit my job, move south, and bet football games for a living.

Shiver: As I write this, the official temperature for Ann Arbor, Michigan is 3 (or trece, in Espanol de Bono). That's an insulting temperature. It's not much different from zero, but it's like, if you looked really hard you could find a little heat out there. Bollocks. Global warming cannot come fast enough for me. My next car will be a Hummer.

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Remember that hotel I was going to stay at in New York, Dream; it was close when i arrived and I ended up getting fobbed off on HoJo's? You can read about it here. Anyway, it seems they are finally open for business, but just barely. Check out these comments over at Hotel Chatter. Apparently, some of the workers have a slight hygiene problem:

One big problem with these contractors: They left an absolutely vile stench in the elevators, or on the floors that they would visit. Now the first time you get a waft B.O. you might think, one rotten apple, but time after time as these contractors entered and left different elevators and different floors the stench was literally unbearable.

Well, that's one problem they didn’t have at HoJo's.

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This cracked me up. The Ten Most Accurately Rated Artists in Rock History. Get this:

6. My Bloody Valentine: On the surface, My Bloody Valentine should be underrated, but they’re not; everyone who aggressively cares about alt guitar music considers Loveless to be a modern classic, and everyone who is wont to mention “swirling guitars” during casual conversation always references this specific album. Loveless sold about 200,000 copies. This is the correct number of people on earth who should be invested in the concept of swirling guitars.

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It looks the FCC has approved in-flight wireless for next year, which is very cool; of course, it will be a while before one airline decides to make it free and the others jump on the bandwagon. Until then, it'll be an arm and a leg.

They haven’t quite approved of cell phones. Interestingly, they are no longer worried about safety -- which means the existing ban has been one of the biggest bureaucratic jerk offs in history. No what they are no worried about is whether allowing cell phone conversations will be annoying to other passengers. Well, that's actually none of their business. That should be up to the airlines to set policy. Busybodies. This is the reason the poor flight attendants have to explain how to buckle a seat belt before every flight. If they are really worried about preventing things that are annoyances to passenger, I could provide a list.

But speaking of that, why is it so annoying when the person next you is talking on a cell phone. Why is that worse than holding a conversation with the person next to them (which is unlikely to be banned)? I know it is, but why? Anyone have an answer?

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The Wire just closed up another amazing season, sadly amid signs that it may not be renewed. If that's the case, it will be the first gutless move by HBO I can recall. But I'll wait until it actually happens to rail about it.

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It's a Wonderful Life, reenacted in 30 seconds. By bunnies. Would that all of Christmas (and Winter) passed so quickly.

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I guess the only thing to keep me warm is my football record. I was 3-0-1 in my picks this week. How cool hot is that?

Football Picks – Week 15: Only a couple of weeks left in the season. I know many of you will be glad. I, on the other hand, will need something new. How about online poker? Dangerous.

Anyway, here's where you can read the background on my selection method and get the latest decision grid for all NFL games. Below, a team's DVOA advantage is in parenthesis.

As always, we start with teams that are 40+ percentage points superior in DVOA and are favored by a touchdown or less. This week, that amounts to one:

Washington (47.3) -4.5 at San Francisco

That's cool with me. We'll take the 'Skins.

Next up we look for underdogs of a touchdown or more but with small(er) DVOA deficits. I do not have a rule of thumb for what small(er) DVOA deficits are. Anything under 30 is worth a look at least. Once again, there is only one in that category.

Indiana (19.4) -8 at Baltimore

I'm going to pass on this one. Baltimore has a great defense, but Indiana is at home and they have this disturbing habit of scoring a bajillion points at times.

Lastly, we look for disconnects -- games where the team with the superior DVOA is the underdog. This week we have a whopping six of these:

• Carolina (17.4) +3 at Atlanta


• Houston (30.9) +1 at Chicago


• Minnesota -3 at Detroit (0.2)


• Denver -1 at Kansas City (4.0)


• St Louis -3 at Arizona (2.6)


• Tennessee (1.3) +2.5 at Oakland

Wow. Where to begin? How about the beginning. I'm going to take Carolina although I'm rather scared to because it's Atlanta at home. But Atlanta has clenched the division and Carolina has come on so strong it's worth the risk. I've got to take Houston just because of the huge DVOA spread. I'll also take Detroit at home and suddenly with a running game, and hope Mike Tice keeps calling silly plays. KC over Denver is tough; Denver has something to fight for so I'll pass. I can’t take Arizona with the quarterback situation the way it is. Tennessee at Oakland -- I have no clue so I'll pass.

Thus, this week's picks:

• WAS -4.5 over SF


• CAR +3 over ATL


• Houston +1 over Chicago


• Detroit +3 over Minnesota

For the record I did my picking on Friday night with the intent of posting on Saturday, then I turned on Sportscenter and they were talking about today's games. At least I'll have these up before any of the games end.

Latest "I like the change of seasons, it helps me appreciate them," is a typical response you get when you whine about the winter. That's kind of like saying, I like getting beaten on the knees and elbows with a rubber mallet because you appreciate it when it stops.

I have always hated winter. I hate driving in it. I hate going to work in the dark, even though I'm my usual 15 minutes late, and I hate that the sun sets shortly after Noon. I hate my down comforter. I hate shaking the snow off the paper in the morning. I hate winter coats. I hate keeping my windows shut. I hate what the arid, forced air heat does to my silken skin.

And when it comes to skiing, I suck Lake Michigan through a straw.

And here in Michigan the onset of cold weather also means the onset of kamikaze deer leaping out in front of your car at three in the morning when you are driving back from the bar in a just under legally intoxicated condition. (Hypothetically speaking, of course.)

Fun fact: Hunting and/or farming deer for commercial purposes is against the law. We are swamped with the carcasses of suicidal deer alongside every road, but if you want to order a venison fillet, it'll have to be imported from New Zealand or somewhere.

To quote Jimmy Buffett, "I need to fly to St. Somewhere." And it's only December.

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I am seriously considering getting an iBook. I have never been a Mac person. Really, they have always seemed a little weird to me -- the people that is, not the Macs. Especially now that they all have iPods. Do you realize they like to call themselves Pod People as if they have been replaced by aliens or something?

But, the little 12' iBook looks awfully appealing to me. It is light and has a good battery life; it even has a special power mode for playing DVDs that shuts down everything except the screen and the DVD player to extend the viewing time. It's nicely priced and good quality, or so I've read. The problem is it also involves me buying about $600 worth of software on top of everything else. I'd need Office Standard, Quicken, Photoshop CS, maybe one or two smaller things. That's a good chunk of cash and a major PITA over and above the purchase price, which makes me think I should stick with Windows. The big cost there is Office which I suspect will run me about $300. I'd love to hear if anyone knows how to get Office for Mac cheaply. (And no, Appleworks and OpenOffice will not do.)

I'd also be interested in any recommendations for a Windows/PC alternative. Battery life and low weight are big priorities. And built in wireless. And at least 512 meg. And Windows Professional (not Home). And a docking station would be nice. And…

If I defect, you can blame Dell and the Satanic Inspiron they sold me. But gawd, don’t let me become a Pod Person. Could there be a more conceptually obnoxious device than a U2 Special Edition iPod?

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My picks were 2-2 this week. That's bad. (In Vegas, breaking even means you lose the house rake.) But I take solace in the fact that I mentioned that I thought this week was scary, so at least I was right about being wrong. Also, this was my worst week of the season so far. What a great year when your worst week is 50-50.