The Stones mocking country music and writing a great country song at the same time. Here's to Mick Jagger for being exactly who he is. No worries, mamas. You let your babies grow up to be cowboys because they won't do this. The rest of us non-cowboys, we'll just sing dirty.
I was driving home early Sunday morning through Bakersfield
Listening to gospel music on the colored radio station
And the preacher said,
"You know, you always have the Lord by your side."
And I was so pleased to be informed of this that I ran
Twenty red lights in his honor
Thank you, Jesus… thank you, Lord.
Cleaning house over the weekend, I came across a results sheet from our July NPR go-kart racing. It's a great example of how technology can provide takeaways from the virtual or physical experiences it compiles.
At the top, laptimes — yours vs. the full race vs. the lead. (These aren't my stats. Picking up the stat sheets at the front desk at race's finish, I didn't realize the sheets were personalized. Being a huge fan of the person whose sheet this is, I'm not going to say anything Google-able. It was this person's first race. My first race, decades ago at the beach, had the same results. Second race is when you start to gas it.) Then position, yours vs. the top three finishers. Then a few individual stats.
Meanwhile, online, deep heat results, even with individual laps. I don't know what K1 Speed's investment in its technology was, but good for them. You can use digital to capture the physical and later recreate or appreciate the physicality. When mediums/places can translate, invest.
Previously in this blog on virtual-meets-physical tech: Kinetic Vox.
1. Because I'm not Jewish, and though my dating history holds to no religious lines, I don't want to be part of a Nerve trend story. (I think there was a Journal story too, a couple years ago, but I can't find it. And if I were part of a Nerve trend story, there are likely much more fun Nerve trend stories to be a part of. You put what where? Okay!)
2. I don't date online. I get enough Web at work. And at home. Also, I've managed a social net. I've seen too many profiles to want to pen one. Also, the reason you blog for years is the opposite of profiling. A profile is a stable description. A blog contains new multitudes daily.
3. As much as I've enjoyed 50 First (J)Dates since the Postintroduced me to it this summer, this statement is so wrong. "Dear prospective men, please never say any of the following on your profile: … 2. Your love of Billy Joel or Bruce Springsteen. Like, duh." Well. Ms. Meredith Fineman, I'll save the full monologue. I like your blog and think you're pretty (even if, should we ever meet and fall for each other, kissing you might evoke odd memories of your dad on Washington Week in Review — sincerely, my formative D.C. childhood), but you couldn't be more wrong on this. Joel and Springsteen are not interchangeable.
I post Springsteen love in my Facebook to show I don't have love for Billy Joel. The Piano Man is good, great early stuff, but come on now.
Profiles with love of Billy Joel… well, I don't know what they're saying. They didn't start the fire? Bottle of red, bottle of white, I support that. But Mustang or 'vette, Mary Ann or Ginger, Fenty or Gray, we choose. The respective voices of New Jersey and Long Island, the same deal.
"You can feel your whole life begin to shake," goes a line from a poem here. I may not have shown as much, sitting alone on the couch or bed or standing on the crowded train car, but each of these poems left me vibrating inside, dizzy but mixing toward some better consistencies. At first reading, I intended to write about every one, enough to bookmark or dog-ear a page and save the notation in a deskside or virtual stack.
But weeks or months went by, and the stacks gathered dust, deskside or virtual (cleaner but more insidious). Fall arrived, and the collection of thoughts began to feel like hoarding — not a roomful of cats and paper but still obstacles in one's daily paths and over-inked white on unfurled draft-table blueprints. If I couldn't convert the poems-as-experience to something new, they had to go, opening space to what would be new.
Then, sometime this fall, PEN talked to Don DeLillo. By fax, the author raised questions: "Will language have the same depth and richness in electronic form that it can reach on the printed page? Does the beauty and variability of our language depend to an important degree on the medium that carries the words?" And then, "Does poetry need paper?"
I stopped in my mousing, in my chair rocking, in grasping with the pads of my fingers whatever glass of orange juice (early in the morning) or wine (late in evening) I would have been pulling to my lips and nerves. How could DeLillo ask that question? Or, very next, how could he not?
It was easy to assume DeLillo's answer was yes, that poetry needed paper, that the medium was a relevant carrier, that his predicted White Noise was destructive and a "phony palliative" like Franzen said it was. But importantly for me, DeLillo didn't answer his own question. He had the opportunity, sitting at his writing table or walking down or upstairs to the fax machine; and he didn't. In his restraint, I felt understanding. I hoped and could even imagine that, during summer, he had found a poem on his screen or on a train with elbows to his back and paused.
So, on screen, here are 16 poems from my summer, for your fall.
Via Romenesko, an interview with Farley Katz, who graduated from college and helped run the New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest:
TCB: Did you ever come across any Caption Contest entries that were not just not funny, but also really disturbing?
FK: There was a guy on the West Coast who would submit really gross sexual stuff every week. After a while, he just stopped. This made me sad.
We never got any top-quality abuse for such a duration at USA TODAY — we were quick in handing out suspensions, even for the excellent "F_Patrick_Cooper" — but it would've entertained the moderators. If you're going to be abusive on digital news sites, go big or go home.
It's the hosting! It's people you invite in! It's the responsibility of the preparations, the invitations, the cleaning, the cooking, the finishing the beautiful deck before family and friends arrive. These are the top lessons learned from Desair and Erik's housewarming on Saturday.
I don't know how I missed taking a picture from the Shaws' beautiful and high foyer, but maybe it's because of our hurry to see the guest bedroom named after Megan. Seriously, there's no sign or anything, but you can check the Gannett e-mails. Here, Megan with her room.
The deck was finished just a day before, and it was an immediate hit.
With views like this one, how could it not have been? We sat for hours.
Gimmicks come and go; the cop show seems one genre that will never leave — not as long as people like to sit at home in the suburbs and see what awful things go on in the cities. Cop shows are always set in big cities — New York, Los Angeles and now Detroit — and not in Paterson, N.J., or Evanston, Ill., or Upper Marlboro, Md.
But what if! … What if there was a cop show in Evanston, Ill.? Not only could I sell them a great name (even though they'd probably name the show something stupid like North Shore or Purple Line Express), but the Sheridan Road car chases (hey, there's the arch!), the weekly student bodies washing up on the Lakefill and do-they-or-don't-they-bring-up-race Howard Street confrontations would be classic Wildcat TV. (Four and oh in non-conference play so far this year, baby. Bring on the Big 10.) Also, they should call the show Ridge and Noyes and hang at Al's.
Anyway, once a year I devote a little more time to TV and make some decisions. Besides football, I don't watch much that's not on my TiVo, so don't be too worried about me. To help your viewing decisions, here is what I watched and in some cases chose not to watch this week.
How I Met You Mother. Feels like the last season. Love this show but feels like the last season. Let's give Ted a likable girlfriend. Please?
Rules of Engagement. There's not really a show here. It's like Eagle Eye with Shia Labeouf. Imaginary, right? This was a lost half-hour. Done.
Two and a Half Men. Same show, new season. Seriously. How they're this consistently crass and watchable is a tribute to… consistency?
Mike & Molly. I liked both leads going in but wasn't a fan of the "Hey, a fat-joke show" concept. But leads and writing made it sweet and fun.
Hawaii 5-0. I hated the first 20 minutes of this show. Scott Caan is likable. Almost saved it. But I don't need a cop drama in my life. Done.
Glee. Outside of Sunshine Corazon (amazing) and Bieste (intriguing), same problems as the second half of last year. Don't let us down, kids.
Raising Hope. Promising, and not just for Greg Garcia throwing a joke about his My Name Is Earl cancellation (rest in peace) in the opening minutes. Bonus points for Glarkware's Bigfoot vs. Abe Lincoln shirt:
Running Wilde. Disappointment of the fall. Love Will Arnett. Love Keri Russell, oh do I. But kid narration, soft music, off-balance disaster.
Parenthood. People who watch this tell me to watch. So, I recorded it this week. Haven't watched it yet. Haven't persuaded myself. Done.
Modern Family. One of the show's weaker episodes — aside from the Jay, Cam and Mitch part — but I have no worries. Greatness remains.
Cougar Town. Why did I watch this show last year? Why did I ever watch this show? What was I thinking? I apologize to everyone. Done.
The Whole Truth. Maura Tierney, I love you, and welcome back. But I didn't watch your new show. I can't add a lawyer drama. Done.
Terriers. My favorite new show. I'm a big fan of Donal Logue. Every character engages. The show makes good people relate to bad stuff.
Community. Most underrated show on TV. Strong return, even if Betty White is overplayed by now. Go back, watch season one, catch up.
30 Rock. I like a funny Matt Damon, but this return felt rushed and, like so much of last year, inconsequential a day later. Arc, people, arc!
The Office. Enough with Sabre. No more. No more Kathy Bates. No more Gabe. I love this show, but it's been testing my love for two years.
Big Bang Theory. This one left me a little concerned. The jokes were too shallow, which was how Office went downhill. Hoping for ep two.
Grey's Anatomy. Grey's hasn't had a great opener in four years. Didn't have one this year. But last year's finale was restorative for the plot.
Cleveland Show. Family Guy. Still to come. Probably done with Cleveland.
I know what you're thinking. But I went to work every day, knocked off another New Yorker cover to cover and was out four nights. I was just more productive than usual with TiVo. And I still need to fix my sleep.
