While not super-new, this song was new to me on my radio last week. And while it's no work of art, it is Jet continuing to be Jet, and I'm okay with that. It rocks hard for a Monday morn, in both guitar and theme.

And one more. When I posted last week about Marah, I was surprised to find out friend Chuck W. at work also a fan. (I never run into other Marah fans beyond the ones I've known for years.) Chuck said he'd discovered the band through Nick Hornby's Songbook/31 Songs, and that made me think of Teenage Fanclub. If you read Songbook, you learn Hornby loves Teenage Fanclub almost as much as Bruce and Marah and any given sunny moment may love them even more.

The other part of this story: I'm flipping channels recently and find the weak-but-watchable Jason Biggs and Isla Fisher vehicle The Pleasure of Your Company. In the soundtrack, there's a nice little song called Love Is a Game for Two to Play. I looked it up and apparently the singer, Francis MacDonald, is the sometimes drummer in Teenage Fanclub.

So, I guess I need to say something about Teenage Fanclub. The best thing to say may be Hornby writing on the band's Ain't That Enough.

It is important that we are occasionally, perhaps even frequently, depressed by books, challenged by films, shocked by paintings, maybe even disturbed by music. But do they have to do these things all the time? Can't we let them console, uplift, inspire, move, cheer? Please? Just every now and then, when we've had a really shitty day? I need somewhere to run to, now more than ever, and songs like "Ain't That Enough" is where I run.

Which brings us back to Monday morning. This'll do well for you.

Here is a sunrise, ain't that enough
True as a clear sky, ain't that enough
Toy town feelings here to remind you
Summers in the city do what you gotta do

Says one YouTube commenter on the video, "No matter how unoriginal this song is, there is always room in the world for songs like this."

In 1983, the tale goes, the Jamaican ambassador to the United States gave this bottle of Wray & Nephew Pimento to Rep. Dante Fascell, the Democrat of Florida. Upon retirement from Congress in 1993, after 19 terms in office, Fascell gave the bottle to his longtime aide, who much later gave the bottle to his son, who yesterday poured me a shot of it.

Says the CocktailDB: "The pimento or pimiento is the berry from which the spice allspice is derived. English explorers coined the term allspice because the berry seemed to encapsulate the flavors of cinnamon, nutmeg, and clove all at once. How this might relate to the flavorless, red, wadded-up thing stuffed in some cocktail olives, we would be hard-put to explain. The only currently produced brand appears to be Wray & Nephew Pimento Liqueur. Unfortunately, importation and marketing of this product ceased in the United States in the 1980s."

The bottom line? "Rare." "Highly recommended."

The consistency was honey-like, but I struggled to describe the taste until reading this allspice description. Who knew how long the bottle had been open, but the mesh of flavors was still there. Beau, son of the Fascell aide, urged sipping the shot for tasting. I was glad I did.

Pimento turned out better than our beer. Remember the beer-making? Eleven months ago? When there were snozberries and keg-rolling?

The main purpose of yesterday's small gathering was to try the beer for the first time. And we must be honest. Awful. Beau warned me in advance. The beer had somehow been better before going in bottles. Apparently not storing beer correctly for almost a year can do that.

But totally worth it. Beau added flavoring. We drank to tell the story.

It was good to see Gonzaga classmate Sante and meet neighbor Lisa, who had started the day in Geneva nearly 6,000 miles away from my subsequent host yesterday, friend Laura who had started the day in San Francisco and who along with friend Amy made a terrific dinner of Homemade Pizza Co and king cake. Then we watched the bobsledders race upside-down. Saturday was a food and drink and people winner.

Or, if you watch this video after the sun comes up, your day.

Starting off, my favorite pop song of all time. To have live vocals on a broadcast this old is a joyous surprise. Then an interview where Mike Douglas fumbles a little with his words and where Stevie is, as noted, just 16, but all in all leaves you thinking and smiling in equal intensity. Last, an underrated song and a perfect one to bring us into morning.

Somebody honked. Six years ago this month, I told you exactly how it would go down. The circus was unpacked in the parking lot beneath CNN Center and the Philips Arena. I parked in there. The animals, of course, held up traffic into and out of the lot, leading to speculation:

Seeing live elephants — outside of circuses, zoos and Africa — definitely makes you wonder. Especially when they're lumbering around the parking lot next to yours. If you drove up behind one and honked, for instance, what would happen?

When we heard this week about Lima the Zebra fleeing the circus and running loose on the streets of downtown Atlanta, we got our answer.

The black-and-white striped animal was spotted all over town — in the parking lot near the Richard B. Russell Federal Building, near Centennial Olympic Park, CNN and on the Downtown Connector. He was finally captured on the interstate near the Grady curve. According to witnesses, he was galloping between lanes of traffic on the Downtown Connector before his capture.

Lima was exercising to prepare for Thursday night's circus performance at Philips Arena when "something spooked him," Drake said. The zebra broke away from his trainers and bumped up against a fence before wiggling through an opening and running off, she said.

And then: "Friday, Drake said they still weren't sure what the noise was that startled the animal." I think the moral here is everyone's a commuter. If a zebra goes to work and messes with your drive in, do what you need to do. But be prepared for the zebra's revenge.

More than a week after the last big snowstorm, one car in the lot out front remains encased in snow. It is fantastic. All the other cars come and go all day. They have pavement beneath them and look normally parked. But snow car remains, a lone ice cube. Hibernating til spring? Putting belief in thaw before belief in shovel? A raised fist vs. winter?

It's been a full two years since The Last Rock and Roll Band released an album and blew up. Since then, we've had sporadic acoustic shows, months of reported recording, one Internet single, and one of the two brothers departing active duty. Marah as we knew it ceased to exist.

But now we have a new Web single, and we have a release date. The new song is Waiting for a Devil. Music here. Lyrics here. Writes Dave:

I played a borrowed "high string" guitar and one of my brother's rusty old harmonicas i found in a road case. "Waiting for a Devil" is fashioned after some "old time religion" songs that I've grown to really love (Washington Phillips, The Anglin Brothers, Blind Willie & Kate McTell). I sang this song with Christine and she played the Fender Rhodes electric piano. Johnny Pisano played the upright bass and later played electric response lines through a plate reverb. Martin played his drum kit through an old tube amp (but don't blame Marty, i made him do it).

Of course, the forum version of this has a postscript from Dave.

PS-Sorry for being out of touch. Sorry for not posting on the message board much. Sorry for not playing in Pittsburgh more often. Sorry for years of mismanagement and underpromotion. Sorry for not being the biggest band on earth. Sorry for not being Kings of Leon. Sorry for not being 17th runner up on American Idol and selling 13 million albums (this morning). Sorry for being smashed that time you and your fiancee came out to see us in Dallas in front of 30 people. Anyway, miss you guys too, still love ya, see you soon.

And an e-mail version of this intentionally buries the best news for us. "Barring any unforeseen disaster, the new MARAH album called 'Life is a Problem' will be released on June 1st, 2010 and we just know you're gonna love it… Our goal this year is to play all over the globe and have fun bringing cool Rock n Roll music to cool people. See how nice?"

The only music I have in greater quantity than Marah's is Bruce's, and I miss the Kids in Philly real bad. Bring on June and bring on that album. If we've met any time in the last two years, you don't know how much I love this band. I'm glad to have a new reason to tell you about them.

P.S. The departed brother? Maybe the best pic ever of happy life after a rock band. On his kid's first birthday, taken by his cool blogger wife.

I've been waiting 20 years for this post. You grow up down the street from Blessed Sacrament, go to grade school there, go to church there, and you're eventually gonna hear about the other Blessed Sacrament.

At a young age, you know such a place exists in Virginia, the land on the other side of the river where people get lost. You don't know this directly, but the confusion of all the people who hear where you go to school and think you live in Virginia has told you it exists. Somewhere in Virginia, there is a school with the same name as yours. Somewhere out in Virginia, there is a bizarro school with a bizarro Patrick Cooper.

ELAINE: Bizarro Jerry?

JERRY: Yeah. Like Bizarro Superman. Superman's exact opposite, who lives in the backwards bizarro world. Up is Down. Down is Up. He says "Hello" when he leaves, "Good bye" when he arrives.

ELAINE: Shouldn't he say "Bad bye"? Isn't that the, opposite of "Good bye"?

Tonight, I went there. I finally went to the other Blessed Sacrament. In Virginia! Blew my freakin' 10-year-old mind. Great friend Jen (ever the reporter, in the parking lot afterward, "Damn, I just said 'fucked up' in the church parking lot") goes to church there sometimes, so we went for Ash Wednesday. The church in my neighborhood has led to parking disasters and thus not-going disasters the last two Ash Wednesdays, and the promise of seeing bizarro Blessed Sacrament sealed the deal.

The report: Bizzaro Blessed Sacrament is bizzaro Blessed Sacrament.

The District version, mine, is all about themes. The Virginia version is straight plot. (The homily featured promos for confession and Mass times.) The District version keeps the lights low. Virginia keeps all the lights on. District nave is smaller than it looks. Virginia nave is bigger than it looks. District has obstructed views. Virginia, everyone in the whole church turns around to look at you when you walk in. District, minimal tasty heritage Latin everyone knows. Virginia, deep-cut Latin. (If four years of high school Latin didn't learn me on the Sanctus, the Archdiocese of Arlington sure isn't going to. The Our Father, Holy Mary, Aeneid, Roman Robert Frost and horny Catullus were good, thanks.) District, music whenever possible. Virginia, whenever was necessary.

So glad I went. Good to be back for the ashes, good to know Blessed Sacrament D.C. still rocks and Virginia is still the land on the other side of the river where people get lost, good to have a friend and bizarro.

Claire Keegan's "Foster" is what you read leaning against the handle of the refrigerator as the water boils and your wine glass gets lonely on the counter. You continue to read the story through the meal and, returning the plate to the sink, as your clothes washer spins off in the hall, then the dryer. Most of the sentences in the story gaze outward but every fourth or so looks in. A line looking in? "I am in a spot where I can neither be what I always am nor turn into what I could be."

Right now… I'm in search of awesome. That's what I've decided.

Colliding with the above story about a little Irish girl, I've posted this similarly (seriously) themed Wilco song before but never this version.

I'm trying, I'm trying. New York Times "Year in Ideas," December 2001.

Next spring, General Mills is expected to introduce www.mycereal.com, a Web site that allows users to mix and match more than 100 different ingredients to create and name their own breakfast cereals, delivered to their homes in single-serving portions.

You want Cheerios to come with the marshmallows from Lucky Charms? Done. Mix Cinnamon Toast Crunch with French Toast Crunch? Sure. Wheaties with blueberries, almonds and grains? No problem. Add a tropical touch to your Cocoa Puffs? Have them throw in some coconut shreds and dried mango.

Via Mediaite's 2009 review of the '01 ideas list. The site's comment on cereal: "My Honey Nut Cap’n Crunch Choculas never really caught on."

Mycereal.com remains under General Mills control, sadly unused.

When I had the opportunity last month to talk to MacArthur Fellow and Gannett colleague Jerry Mitchell, I jumped at it. It wasn't everyday you got to talk to a genius grantee.  A long-time investigative reporter at the Mississippi Clarion-Ledger, Mitchell was starting a blog about civil rights cold cases, part of a new, larger Gannett civil rights project. He was looking for blogging tips, and I was just happy to talk to him.

On the phone, he mentioned hanging around a recent New Yorker visit and photo shoot with civil rights heroes, bound for a coming issue. We got to talking for a minute about the mag's photography — the Platon U.N. portfolio had just come out — and I no doubt sounded awestruck.

Platon's civil rights portfolio arrived in the most recent issue. The most powerful page for me was Chris and Maxine McNair embracing in front of Birmingham's Sixteenth Street Baptist Church, where the 1963 Klan bombing killed their daughter Denise. The photo grabbed me twice as hard as the rest. His resolved face, her sad face, surely traded often.

Your online viewing options for the photo aren't great. An audio gallery has the shot in the bottom-right corner, but the presentation is limited in size and and disappears quickly. Better is the digital edition page, if you're a New Yorker subscriber or sign for a free trial. Conde Nast and Remnick, you can do better, especially on public-service work like this.

If you can't get into the digital edition, you can get more satisfaction from Mitchell's two blog posts about the photo shoot. In the first post, he writes about the photo bringing Medgar Evers' widow and brother together after years of issues between them. In the second, Mitchell notes the portfolio's publication but also adds a personal thought:

I have said it before in speeches, and I’ll say it again here: Getting to know these families who played a role in the civil rights movement has been truly inspiring.

And getting to know them means more than any award.

As Martin Luther King Jr. observed, “One day the South will recognize its real heroes.”

Read all of Mitchell's new blog here.