So you got my moderately deep thoughts on the year since September 11, 2001 the day before the first anniversary. Now you get my reactions to that anniversary the day after. At least I'm not running the orange terror alert across the page.

In the aftermath of doing almost everything wrong, baseball proved it could do something right in the way they marked the day. From the afternoon remembrances to the moment of silence at 9:11 p.m., very nicely done.

What was odd for me, though, was that the Yankee Stadium organist played during the moment of silence, making it sound like your local funeral home. The PA guy also spelled out what was going to happen in the pre-game ceremony in detail, which made it seem like less a memorial and more like color guard practice. Yes, even in times of national sorrow I can find some way to rip on the Bombers.

But I do have to give props for them replacing the creaky "God Bless America" with "America the Beautiful." I also like as a funkier alternate choice "This Land is Your Land," even if it is communist agitprop. As much as I like the "Battle Hymn of the Republic," I'm happy to see it's not been trotted out at ball games.

I became officially overloaded on coverage at 7:02 a.m. After being subjected to close-captioned coverage while working out, I got home to hear Matt Lauer say that at 7:02 a.m. one year ago, Mohammed Atta was somewhere on his path to imfamy (I don't remember where, thankfully). At that point I figured I had the rest of the day off from coverage.

(An aside: Katie Couric looks like hell. Her hair is colored some shade which clashes with her skin tone, and her face is looking a bit slack. Can't tell if it's make-up, lack of sleep, nature taking its course, or too much tanning. I don't judge her from her appearance, though; I've always thought she was a hack.)

I did watch enough of CNN this evening to see Ralph Kershaw's name scroll by. Ralph was from my hometown, Manchester MA. He was on United 175. I didn't know him well, but if there's any part of this thing that gets to me, it's the simple fact that our little jerkwater berg could be affected directly. You never know.

If I have to hear Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the USA" morning, noon, and night every September 11 from this year forward, the terrorists have won.

Clear Channel let its radio stations play commercial-free. Nice sentiment, but I have to figure it meant KISS-108 (Boston's most strictly programmed Top 40 radio station) played its song list every 35 minutes.

I should have mentioned this much earlier, but take a gander at Bill Biggart's Final Exposures, a photo essay from The Digital Journalist. I used this as the basis of a photo display on campus yesterday (thanks to Dirck Halstead who wrote the article I linked to), which I hope got people thinking.

How many people saw Yahoo's tribute - they greyed out their home page - and thought their monitor was broken?

While flipping around, I did catch about a minute of a ceremony at Battery Park involving representatives from every country that lost someone at the World Trade Center- 91 of them. That's a part of the story that you don't hear much about. The US lost the most, but the attack was an affront to the global community.

The AdCouncil ran a great PSA showing people of all ages and ethnicities saying the same thing: "I am an American." It closed with that motto you see on all the coins: E Pluribus Unum. Out of many, one. Damn straight.

I realize now that I've left off one of my favorite Sports Night bits, the problem with trying to cull out ten of them. Dan is going through writer's block, and Natalie uses glasses of water and an air horn to try to snap him out of it. I swear at one point Peter Krause is giving honest laughter at this.

I know there are some Sports Night fans out there from the various announcements that the show's entire run will wind up on DVD in time for Christmas (Sarah, if I've not asked for it by now, I am asking for it). The show represents several things you don't see on prime time TV nowadays: sharp writing, an ensemble that truly is an ensemble and can act the hell out of any script, and an Aaron Sorkin not hopped up on magic mushrooms. Sadly, it also represented something altogether too prevalent on prime time TV today: idiot network executives whose tunnel vision and need to put every show in a neatly-defined box prevents them from giving a show that studiously avoids such definition the time to develop. Just one sample of Jamie Tarses' attempt to bury ABC.

Anyway, for your diversionary pleasure, my top 11 Sports Night moments:

11. Every shot of New York City that contains the World Trade Center.

10. Jeremy meets a porn star who he later dates. The porn star, played by Paula Marshall, is notable as she is a show killer on par with Ted McGinley (who played Gordon Gage during the show's first season) and Alison La Placa. She's offed Wild Oats, Chicago Sons, Cupid, Snoops, and Cursed. Not that most of those shows needed her help. She's starring in this season's Hidden Hills; be warned.

9. The Passover seder where Dan and Casey patch up their fight and Jeremy admits to Natalie that he's dating a porn star, only to have Natalie tell him how much she misses him. Moving stuff.

8. We learn that Isaac Jaffe missed the "Shot Heard 'Round the World" Bobby Thompson homer that won the Giants the 1951 pennant because he was in the bathroom washing his hands. Imagine being in a place where something will happen that will define something you love forever. And then put yourself in the can when that thing happens. Robert Guillaume did a whale of a job with this.

7. One of the early episodes has Casey flirting with Sally, the West Coast Update producer (I think it's "Smoky," but can't find corroboration). He and Dan then have an exchange about Sally that is phenominal, with Dan ending with "I say she has no reflection!" Just once, I want to be able to say that the way he did about someone.

6. Casey appears on The View and fails to credit the wardrobe people for his clothes. This leads to a dressing down (sorry) by a wardrobe assistant (played by Janel Moloney, better known now as Donna Moss on The West Wing) and an on-air thank you rundown of all the staffers on the show. Which, it took me a few airings to figure out, were actual thanks to staffers on the actual show. Check the credits.

5. After Dan finally makes headway with Rebecca and Casey is rebuffed by Dana, we get this exchange:

Dan: You know, sometimes it's worth it, taking all the pies in the face -- sometimes you come through it feeling good.
Casey: Yes.
Dan: And how was your day?
Casey: Sometimes you just stand there, hip deep in pie.

I have days like that. We all have days like that. I named my fantasy football team Hip Deep in Pie one year in tribute.

4. The episode "Quo Vadimus," where Continental Sports Channel is bought out and the new owner promises to keep Sports Night on the air. In reality, it's the show's last episode. To quote Homer Simpson, "Think about the irony."

3. Natalie, after being sexually assaulted by football player Christian Patrick, runs into him backstage at the show after an interview with him is cancelled. She tells him she's taking out a warrant against him, and ends their encounter by throwing a quote of his back at him: "How much do you love me now?" Timing is indeed everything.

2. Any poker-related moments in "Shoe Money Tonight," from Natalie saying she's got game to the actual cards to Dana's constant repetition of the title phrase.

1. The network tries to take over the show, more or less, by forcing notes (network suggestions for improving the show) on the staff. Sam Donovan, a ratings guru brought in by Isaac, calls the meeting off and leads the suits on a walk through the offices while talking about Cliff Gardner, brother in law of Philo Farnsworth, who invented the television. Sam compares himself to Cliff- he doesn't have the technical know how to put it all together, but he can get one thing done that's crucial to TV success, just as Cliff did when he learned to make glass tubes for this thing called TV. Sam then disses the suits' ability to get the best from people, and lets them know that they took their walk to get to the studio exit.

William H. Macy is ridiculously underrated.

I know, everyone and their brother is either going to write about September 11 tomorrow or studiously avoid doing so altogether. I'm going to split the difference and write a little bit about it today. Tomorrow I'll write something completely unrelated.

I had started to write on the topic, but didn't like what I came up with. Sounded a lot like news analysis by someone only half paying attention, which isn't that far from the truth. Instead, here are some basic conclusions I've made a year out:

Your life probably hasn't changed forever At least not in the way you think it would. We all remember what happened, and we all have our own private set of feelings about it. But given all the "our lives have changes irrevocably and forever" rhetoric in the aftermath, life today is strikingly similar to life on September 10, 2001. I know that's not true for those who lost loved ones, or for military personnel who are roaming around the deserts of Afghanistan as I type this. But for the rank and file American, those without direct loss or sacrifice, outside of travel delays you'd be hard pressed to say how life has changed in an physical or administrative sense rather than an emotional one.

Homeland Defense is a nice idea but almost impossible to implement With calls to federalize airport security, arm pilots, and guard anything that may be a vector of civilian death, at this point it seems like the greatest achievement to date from Tom Ridge's boys is a color-coded threat system. Pilots have a tentative OK to get guns, and moves to improve airport security are halting and of mixed success if the continued smuggling of weapons on to planes by journalists are any indication.

Matt Bruce pointed this out early on after the attacks. We may say we want layer upon layer of security, but when the bill gets passed along to you and me, we're going to be less quick to reach for our wallets. Some people would pay anything for a 24 hour watch on every power plant, reservoir, weigh station, and pipeline in the US. Most wouldn't.

And that's what makes homeland defense such a problem. Real solutions are going to have a huge price tag. We either raise taxes or cut existing programs to cover the cost, neither option being one usually taken with logical understanding by the American electorate.

We've seen the dawning of the infotainment-industrial complex It was coming anyway, but the attacks hastened the blurring of the line between news, entertainment, and how Americans think about and understand critical issues. And now with all the anniversary coverage, we can expect a renewed sense of whatever the networks want us to have a renewed sense about. As trifling as it is, the idea that the winner of American Idol will sing at the DC observances says something about the influence of media and entertainment.

Vague warnings are often worse than no warning at all They've slackened, but vague threat warnings only serve to freak people out again. Then again, if you're the government, keeping people panicked may lead them to support your programs if it means they'll be less freaked out in the future. Reminds me of the X Files episode where Mulder learns that a drug that keeps Americans mildly paranoid is being administered through asthma inhalers.

We'd rather fight an old war than continue a new one I have no doubt that Sadaam Hussein is a nasty piece of work who needs to go. I do doubt that taking up arms against him is the logical next step in fighting terrorism. I would prefer that we work with European and Middle Eastern allies to fight continued support and training of terrorists. Not to mention actually finding out if the Taliban and al Qaeda leadership that we've not caught is actually still alive, or finding out who is running the show if they aren't.

The Boston Globe had an interesting article today about how the Iraq thing is part of a larger policy towards reshaping the Middle East. Creating a more democratic, US-friendly Iraq is supposed to give support to reformers in Iran, get Syria to stop backing Hezbullah, push the Saudis to stop playing both ends towards their own survival, and lead to a resolution of the Palestinian question.

All of this seems incredibly bright eyed and wishful. It reminds me of the glorious, clean future we were all supposed to share thanks to the benefits of nuclear power. As in that case, reality is much less rosy. Simply consider the idea that a pro-US regime in Baghdad may be seen as less of a benign influence but rather the largest example of what's percieved as US bullying in the region. Our already low favorability rating takes a lethal hit.

The best revenge really is living well Bob Simon mused this during a bit on CBS Sunday Morning, and I think I agree. It's not necessarily the same thing, but I think these words from Tennyson sum up where I'd like to think we are collectively:

We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are ---
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

OK, I just saw Todd Peterson shank a 39 yard FG attempt to keep the Pats-Steelers game tied at 7. Just the latest offense in what has not been a very pretty game.

I'm impressed at Pittsburg's resiliency given Kordell's horrific start. I suppose I should have expected that, but that sort of opening is hard to shake. I suppose if the Pats had gone up 14-0 on the two picks that may have happened.

Otherwise, this is kind of a painful game to watch. Lots of penalties, which you'd expect in an opening game, but not one featuring last year's AFC title game participants. No real moments of beauty, though the Pittsburg TD drive showed solid execution. Brady's TD pass to Fauria was well done, too.

Still, I'd have expected better. The Cowboys-Texans game was better paced that this thing.

Today I rip off some others and give my NFL predictions, one game late.

AFC East: Pats, Fins, Jets, Bills Probably no Super Bowl repeat, but the Pats are for real. The off-season saw gains at wideout and tight end, which will only help shake Antowain Smith loose. Throw in a more comfortable Brady in a system that's growing with him, too. Defense is basically unchanged, except for Victor Green coming over from the Jets. Pats have a slightly better than average strength of schedule (13th), which helps.

Rickey Williams helps the Dolphins improve, they'll threaten to win the division. The Jets are overrated- one QB is past prime and the other's not ready, and the defense took some serious hits due to the cap. The Bills will stink, but not as bad as you think. The league's best division.

AFC North: Steelers, Browns, Bengals, Ravens This may be the weakest division. The Steelers could be the pro football equivalent of the Twins; so far ahead of the field that they lose focus. The Browns are getting a lot of hype thanks to the D, but still don't know if Tim Couch is ready (and have almost no running game, William Green or no). Bengals get better but need a real QB desperately. Ravens could finish second in the division, there's not much room from there to last, really. An untested QB and cap problems make them a bit of a mystery.

AFC South: Colts, Titans, Jags, Texans Nod to the Colts for their offensive firepower. Even with their poor defense they should be able to handle divisional foes, two of whom are inept (Texans and Jags) and one who can't score regularly (Titans). If Eddie George can get on track the Titans have a chance, especially if Tony Dungy hamstrings that potent O in Indy. If he makes Marcus Pollard an H-back, you know there's trouble.

AFC West: Raiders, Chiefs, Broncos, Bolts The crapshoot division of the NFL. Oakland's dominance hinges on their aging wideouts keeping it together and their flaky kicker getting back in the game. KC has a shot at the division if Priest Holmes has another year like 2001, Trent Green finds his way, and the receiver corps gels. Denver can get back on top if they can keep a running back healthy (and if Clinton Portis can keep his hands on the ball) and if Brian Griese can snap out of his funk. San Diego is screwed. I go with Oakland as I have more faith in them maintaining than in other teams making the step they need.

WILD CARDS: Miami and Tennessee
AFC Champ: Your guess is as good as mine. No one team stands out. I throw in with the Steelers, though. Randle-El adds an element of surprise, complementing Ward and Burress. The Bus gets more running room, too. The D is potent as ever, and Kris Brown is nowhere in sight.

NFC East: Eagles, Giants, Redskins, Cowboys Eagles are clearly the class of the division, solid on all sides of the ball and adding Antonio Freeman will pay off. Giants are kind of like the Titans, good D but flaky O. Shockey is all the rage, but it's the running game that needs attention. Redskins look improved, but I can't see any of the former Gator QBs getting the job done. Perhaps they need to get Jesse Palmer out of the Meadowlands. The Cowboys will struggle, but be a little better than you think, especially if Antiono Bryant matures and gives whoever is under center the added option.

NFC North: Green Bay, Chicago, Minnesota, Detroit Chicago won't be able to repeat last year. They'll do well, but I don't see them besting the Pack. If they do, it'll be thanks to Favre not getting on track with his completely revamped wideout corps. Chicago's D is better, and it was that D that drove the Bears into the playoffs. If you can beat their D, their O may not be able to catch up. Green Bay has the D to stay in a game and an O, thanks to Favre, that can win it. The Vikings are looking rough but may rebound; they are on the cusp of being the NFC's version of Indy. Lots of offensive weapons but a lackluster D. The Lions, well, they only need to get to the start of the NHL season so they can finish in anonimity.

NFC South: Bucs, Saints, Falcons, Panthers Gruden will get the Bucs going, but I wonder if they have any QB who can fully utilize their skill players. Neither Johnson is a world beater, and Shaun King is clearly the odd man out. Saints have a chance at catching the Bucs if Deuce can replace Rickey and the defense gets over losing Glover and Johnson.

Falcons are basically in an extended pre-season for 2003, but Vick will be a difference maker against weaker opponents. The Panthers, if nothing else, reminded me that Rodney Peete was still in the league.

NFC West: Rams, Niners, Cards, Seahawks Rams continue their track show, no big surprises. Niners looked a little out of sorts in the opener, but I liked their defensive fire. They'll need that for their two games with the Rams. Arizona needs to make or break with Jake the Snake. It's not like they don't have other problems- Thomas Jones not panning out and Pat Tillman quitting to join the Army come to mind- but Plummer's rep is bigger than his performance. Another lackluster year could be the end of him with the Cards. The Seahawks, meanwhile, could change leagues with the BC Lions and I don't think people would notice.

WILD CARDS: Chicago, San Francisco
NFC Champ: Everyone's cruising for the Rams-Eagles rematch. I'm going with the Rams in another squeaker.

SUPER BOWL CHAMPS: Steelers win when Stewart, Ward, and Randle-El all wind up in the backfield to run a double reverse option to Tommy Maddox, who is out in the slot. Mike Martz shoots blood from his ears, while Kurt Warner starts to inquire where he can get that Jobu doll from Major League.

Quick hits today.

Kelly wins American Idol Leaving an entire nation to wonder: all this hoopla and her first single is going to be that song?

If you've not heard "A Moment Like This," you will. Soon. Too soon. Diane Warren may be off the hook, at least until the next Oscars.

The final show was two hours long and contained more fill than Love Canal (and was slightly less toxic). More importantly than announcing the winner, the final show marked the time where we could finally assign Ryan Seacrest and Brian Dunkleman to the dustbin of history. I look forward to seeing them on late night TV hawking Son of Paint Stick.

NBAers lose to Argentines This would be a real story if the US team at the Worlds included Shaq, Kobe, Iverson, Vince Carter, Jordan, Ray Allen, Jason Kidd, Kevin Garnett, Steve Francis, Karl Malone, John Stockton, Gary Payton, Wally Szczerbiak, or Chris Webber. Not that the US has a bad team, but most of the players lack the experience and maturity that's so helpful in international play.

I still expect the US to win gold.

Shakira Charo for the new millenium?

I suppose I root for Minnesota I'm not writing off the Sox just yet, even with Pedro's groin problem, but they're 8.5 back in the East, 6.5 back in the wild card race. Numbers which give me some impetus to choose my baseball post-season rooting interest. Went with the A's last year, and that almost worked. I tend to not go NL, with some exceptions (1998 I rooted for a Sox-Cubs series, but picked up the Padres when that went bust). No one in the NL really interests me this year (unless Jimy can get Houston in somehow), so I'll stick with the AL.

Oakland would be the trendy pick, but I'll go with the Twins for sticking it to the man purposes. I am Mariners-curious, and could root for them. The Angels? Nah.

Interesting thing about '98 Looking over the Sox-Indians divisional series, all the runs in Game 4 came from home runs. Nomaaaaahhhhhhh had a 3 run job, while the Tribe had four solo shots- Thome, Lofton, and two from Manny Ramirez.

England update Got our plane tickets. We're sitting in rows 56 and 61 for the flights. I didn't know there were planes that had that many rows. OK, I did, but damn.

Still trying to figure out what to see when we're over there. Sarah's aunt Joyce and uncle Chris are staying with us currently, and they aren't making it any easier. I hadn't even considered places local to them in Wales. I'd mused earlier about going to Normandy to see D-Day stuff, but that may have to wait for another trip.

London is in, of course, but after that...

While on the subject of embarrasing personal revelations vis a vis entertainment, I heard "The Things We Do for Love" by 10cc at lunch, and really dug it. Not like it's the best song in the world, but more that I'd not heard it in a really long time and was pleasantly surprised by it.

I'll also mention that, based on weekend radio listening, that "That's Why They Call it the Blues" may be my favorite Elton John song. Make of that what you will, either from the song or that I may have a Sir Elton fave.

You've probably seen by now that Sarah Michelle Gellar married Freddie Prinze, Jr. over the weekend. Kind of a sad note for me as, I have to admit, I had a little thing for Ms. Gellar (or is it Mrs. Prinze? Mrs. Gellar-Prinze?) at one time. This was part of a time where I'd also claimed that I wanted to marry Jennifer Lopez (a claim made after seeing Out of Sight and before she started up with Puffy and the singing) and had an "I feel dirty" sort of thing with Katie Holmes (given her age and high school vibe from Dawson's Creek).

For those of you for which all this is news please note that I didn't stalk, send letters, hunt for email or other addresses or post obsessively in chat rooms. I did hang out in the Usnet group for the Buffy TV show for a while, but that was really more interest based than personality based (and God knows there were plenty of obsessive types there already).

The nuptuals are also a little sad given that the new Mr. Gellar (or is that Mr. Prinze-Gellar?) is such a hack. Summer Catch? Down to You? Head Over Heels? The only screen credit he has that doesn't scream mediocrity is The House of Yes. I've not seen Scooby Doo to judge there, but from what I've heard and read Prinze was a very bland Fred. Which may actually mean he was spot on, given that Fred seemed to be along because he had the keys to the Mystery Machine.

I suppose I shouldn't begrudge him his niche, though.

Anyway, mazel tov to the newlyweds.

If you haven't had a chance to read Dwight Kidder's entry for August 30, please do so. Lots of good stuff there, one piece in particular I wanted to comment on.

The folks boycotting Sam Adams beer in Boston and New York for Jim Koch's studio presence during the much ballyhooed Opie and Anthony sex in the cathedral bit (if you don't know what I'm talking about with regards to Opie and Anthony, consider yourself lucky) should really be boycotting because Kock is such a sellout.

There was a time when you could consider Sam Adams a quality beer product. Now, it's still better than the usual megabrew BudMillCoors, but it's hardly the sort of artisan-crafted quaff that Koch wants you to think it is. Then there's the whole thing with Sam Adams Light, which is clearly trying to position itself with the younger crowd that usually drinks swill. Which may not be a bad thing if it helps wean them from Busch Light, but it strikes me as more of a market share/profit thing than part of a master plan to make "America's World Class Beer."

Then there was the whole lawsuit against the Boston Beer Works folks (BBW being a small local chain of upscale brewpubs), claiming that their use of the city name Boston could cause confusion with the Boston Beer Company, who make Sam Adams. The suit was as much about local competition as it was anything else. Thankfully, the Beer Works won.

I also miss the Honey Porter, and have no idea why they kept the Cherry Wheat. It's awful.

Anyway, long story short, drink Harpoon IPA. Or Tremont cask-conditioned IPA (or the regular stuff if you can't find the cask one, which is liquid heaven). Those are real Boston-area craft beers.

In unrelated news, I notice that I didn't mention that on the bus ride up to the retreat this week I was subjected to National Lampoon's Van Wilder. I was told by one RA that it would be better than Half Baked. Such a statement may qualify for the Guinness Book of World Records for Damning with the Faintest Praise.

Van Wilder is not a very good movie. It's not quite a train wreck, either. There are one or two moments of relative mirth, such as the interview that Indian exchange student Taj has to become Van's assistant. It's funny for the same reason that Burgess Meredith was funny in Grumpy Old Men: you don't expect to hear that person say what they say.

Otherwise, it's pretty lame. Ryan Renolds of Two Guys, a Girl, 37 Albanian Farmers, Six Geese, a Pizza Place, and a Squadron of AH-64s plays Van to little impact. Tara Reid plays the requisite "resistant at first but then becomes enamored" school paper reporter who's trying to get the lowdown on Van. That this could be Reid's second best film performance (after Bunny Lebowski) is sad. The Copacabana School of Acting is apparently still churning out grads.

I will say, though, that I will never eat another eclair again as long as I live. I won't explain the scene, but it's bad.

OK, so baseball is "saved." There's a new agreement that runs through 2006 which should prevent further baseball labor strife until well into Madame President Clinton's first term (got you, didn't I?).

I've not seen many specifics, but suffice it to say the rich teams are giving money to poor teams, there's a luxury tax in place, but still no guarantee that all this extra money is going to go towards making the small market teams better. Maybe I missed it.

Also, no contraction talks until 2007, meaning that the Montreal Expos live on. Sort of; for all I know they'll be the Norfolk Expos or the San Antonio Expos or the Expositos de Cidudad Mexico.

Anyway, I'm just happy I can now see the Sox genteel decline in its full glory. Eight back in the AL East, 4 back in the wild card. During training, we do an exercise where people write down on cards things they are concerned or worried about for the coming year. We read the cards, and people blow out candles to show that they share that concern, and those who didn't blow their candle out relight others to show they can help. Someone put the Sox on a card. You can guess whether or not my candle stayed lit.

Here's what I love about student loan companies. Got a letter from one today about being done with the loan. It was dated August 5. The postmark on the envelope? Yesterday.

They report me to the credit bureaus if I mess up. Shouldn't I be able to do something similar when they make a mistake? I know, I can call the Better Business Bureau or write my Congressman. I'd be better off trying to fill their offices with gravel or shaving cream or something.

Just got back from two days in the woods with the Babson RA staff. We had our annual training retreat, kind of a homecoming for me as we were at the Sargent Center for Outdoor Education, known to anyone who went to BU before 1998 (and probably even those since) as Sargent Camp. Did some lower team-building elements, high ropes, and something called the "flying squirrel," which is pretty much ten people hauling another person 30 feet in the air. I spent my time on the ground (mostly) helping the RAs to do this stuff.

Kind of nice to get away and outside of the "Babson bubble," the much-discussed membrane that often traps our students and insulates them from the outside world. It manages to capture those of us who live on, too. Still, it will be nice to sleep in my own bed and use a shower whose head is above eye level.

Oh, and did I mention it rained while we were out on the course this morning? I'm still damp.

Days that change your life don't always stand out before they happen. Some do; weddings, for instance. Others just kind of happen. You wake up in the morning, have your expectations for the day, and all of a sudden BAM. The day just took a huge, 180 degree, hairpin turn on Route 2 outside of Williamstown detour.

Yesterday was such a day for me. And it wasn't just surprises. There were some serious changes in the way I look at people, not to mention some questions about fundamental parts of my personality and beliefs.

Paradoxically for someone who's bringing this up on a public space, I'm not going to give the specifics on what caused this change. Suffice it to say it's nothing to do with my health, financial status, well-being, and so on. In most ways I'm the same person I was yesterday. It's just that assumptions and memories I've had from the past are different today than they were yesterday.

Sorry for being both ambiguous and perhaps worrisome at the same time. This'll work itself out over time, just need to process. If I do seem spacey or distracted at times (for those of you who get the non-Web based version of me), it's nothing personal. Thanks.

I'm in the office today, as we started resident assistant training yesterday. After a full summer of only working four days, I'm now starting a stretch that'll see me work every day until, I think, September 7.

It's an interesting time of year for people in student affairs (and education in general), one where routine is disrupted and the comforts of home are traded in for office furniture and much steadier diet of junk food than one really needs.

I will say that the RA training and opening period here is much less stressful than when I worked at BU. Here at Babson, we're training 38 RAs, usually end by 5 pm, and have our largest move in day on Labor Day, when we'll welcome about 415 first year students to campus. At BU, we trained almost 300 RAs (about 50 in my area), often went from 8 am to 8 pm (or later), and moving in 415 people in a day isn't even remarkable.

Even with the more human scale, there are still aspects of training and move in that never go away. Rooms that aren't ready when the student arrives. RAs who are perhaps not as attentive as one would like. And so on.

I had more to say about this, but I've been working on a couple of other things over the afternoon, and those original thoughts I had are gone. Which, when it comes down to it, is another common problem during this time of year.

If there is any upside to the looming baseball strike, it's that a work stoppage could be the only thing that will snap the Red Sox out of their second half slump.

To be fair to the All Star Game, the Sox were slumping before the Tie Near Titletown. Sweeps by the D-Backs, Dodgers, and Braves helped chip away at the Sox's torrid start. But, historically, the Sox are one of interleague play's biggest chumps, so such events weren't exactly major cause for concern. The five game sweep of the Blue Jays obfuscated the one for three performance against the Tigers right before the break, a series that now takes on bellwether status.

The problems with the Sox today are, in some ways, related to the problems seen in the Sox as they came north from Fort Meyers to start the season. Derek Lowe appeared as a solid counterpoint to Pedro, but otherwise we've got the modern, crosstown equivalent of "Spahn, Sain, pray for rain." Relief pitching is, in most cases, anything but. The offense, which came from the usual suspects (Nomar, Manny, Johnny) and not so usual (just about everyone else), is pretty much dried up now, with newcomer Cliff Floyd the lone bat with reliable pop- and even that's waning.

The AL East title is pretty much gone. Those Bronx people are eight games up with about six weeks left, and they show no signs of slumping. The wild card chase is slowly getting out of hand, with the Sox 3.5 back of the AL West tri-leaders Seattle, Anaheim, and Oakland. A four game set with the Angels is on tap, so there's some room for improvement here. But there are no more games against the other two. The only good news is that those three teams get to slap each other around for a goodly chunk of September, while the Sox play mostly Baltimore, Toronto, Tampa, and Cleveland (with three against the pinstripes just to keep us honest).

Season's not over yet, clearly. Just not sure what to panic about first- no Red Sox post-season or no more of any season.

In other sports news, the boys from the Jesse Burkett Little League in Worcester take on the Harlem team tomorrow in one of the US semifinals of the Little League World Series. Sox-Y@nks paralell aside, the most notable angle for this game is Harlem's taste for hot-dogging. You may remember one Harlem player pulling the Babe Ruth point in the game against Bethlehem, PA. Add to that Adam Diaz's home run wave and trot in Harlem's win over Aptos, California.

The Harlem coach handled the situation pretty well, making it very clear that any similar display would get a kid tossed from the game. My concern is that people are going to remember that rather than the success of a team from Little League's Urban Initiative, which is doing great work to bring baseball back to the inner cities. Of course, what I really hope for is that people remember Worcester's run to the title.

Which, considering that the Netherland Antilles were the first team to get a hit off of the Japanese team in pool play, would be something to remember indeed.

Apropos of nothing so far, Terrell Davis for the Pro Football Hall of Fame? No. Four years do not a Hall of Fame career make. Would he make the Hall if he got to play a full career? Almost certainly. Sadly, you don't get to the Hall based on promise and what could have been. Consider if Jamal Anderson's career ended today (which, heck, it just may). Would you put him in the hall? No way.

While any stability in this crazy world of ours is usually a good thing, there are times where it's sad to see that some things never change. While it may turn out that there is a logical explanation, the history here suggests otherwise.

In a completely unrelated set of events, rented two movies over the weekend, and was glad I didn't pay theater prices for either.

Spy Game put last generation's hunk Robert Redford with this generation's hunk Brad Pitt (or is this generation's hunk now Josh Hartnett?). In any case, Pitt's CIA agent character goes rogue to get someone out of a Chinese prison, and Redford spends his time at CIA HQ trying to figure out what happened, deflect the pressure from some ad hoc committee of CIA suits, and devise a way to get Pitt's character out. Most of the movie is in flashback, which gets annoying. That Redford's character tries to teach some lesson to Pitt's character that Redford ultimately violates to save Pitt doesn't help, as it's Foreshadowing wearing that orange tux from Dumb and Dumber.

I'd have almost prefered this movie to only be about Redford maneuvering inside CIA HQ to save Pitt. What the movie does have in this vein isn't anything new, but it's pretty good light entertainment. Of course, that would also take out a lot of Pitt's scenes, except those where he's getting slapped around by his captors. Hmm, that would be a much better movie, come to think of it.

Proof of Life is best known as the film that ruined the Meg Ryan-Dennis Quaid marriage. That Meg and Russell Crowe had any sort of romantic relationship is well hidden in this movie, where the leads develop feelings for each other through some sort of deus ex machina that involves long hours negotiating over a short-wave radio.

I mean, it's not ridiculous to think that either character would develop feelings for each other. Crowe's character comes back on his own volition to get David Morse's character out of the clutches of narco-terrorists, which is pretty endearing. And Meg Ryan is, well, Meg Ryan.

Her character actually plays pretty poorly. I think she's supposed to be some sort of free spirit/hippie/bohemian, but the only way they suggest this is to give her mismatching clothes and show her smoking in like half of her scenes. Actually, she's not really smoking, but rather just holding a cigarette that she rarely brings to her mouth. In most cases it's just attached to her hand and way out of place, like she's got a beach umbrella or a 9 iron there.

In the end, the movie turns into Let's Get Harry or any other of those 1980s flicks where a small group of committed men invade the enemy's compound to rescue a friend, children, or whoever. It's pretty much what you'd expect. David Caruso is OK as a fellow kidnap negotiator/paramilitary leader.

Probably a much better movie if we got to see more from the victim's perspective. I think David Morse is underrated. Not that he's Master Thespian or anything, but I think he was more compelling in his scenes than either Crowe or Ryan (or Pamela Reed, who plays Morse's sister, and is very annoying, though in some ways that's the point).

Which commerical moment is more worrisome?

1. Dana Carvey looking like Sammy Hagar and sounding like Jack Nicholson in the ad for Lays' California Cool Dill chips.

2. The Geico ad that has their spokesgekko romping romantically with a fulsome woman, suggesting interspecies action not seen this side of Danish porn.

Twenty-five years ago today was, in my memory, a day not unlike the one at hand. Perhaps it wasn't as hot or humid, but I remember it as being kind of gray. I was home, doing whatever eight year olds do when they're stuck at home, when the news came down.

Elvis was dead.

I remember yelling the news up to whoever was home, probably one of my sisters. I had enough understanding to know who Elvis was, but not so much to think of it as the epochal passing that it's become.

Today, with the deeper understanding of who Elvis was and his place in American culture, I have to say this on the silver anniversary of his demise.

Woo hoo.

Sudden, unexpected deaths can have this sort of effect. Think about the responses to the deaths of John Lennon or Princess Di. In Elvis's case, I can see how his surprise death would result in a massive, loyal following, given that at the time of his death he was such a vital cog in the music industry and a devotee of healthy eating and a substance free lifestyle.

For all of the rock n roll classics that Elvis gave the world, in his last years (comeback or no comeback) he was an increasingly sad and mockable figure. Fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches? An almost equal appetite for a variety of pharmaceutical substances? That white jumpsuit?

Have you noticed that Elvis impersonators, almost universally, style themselves after the gaudier, tubbier Presley than the slim, raw performer of the 1950s? Doing so allows them to meld the music with the kitsch, walking a line between entertainment and parody. Get some oversized shades, an ugly one piece garment, a wig with muttonchops and a half-gallon of Brylcreem and you're in business.

During part of the Today show coverage of this, one of the people who works for Elvis's foundation noted that before Graceland was opened to the public it had to be renovated to its 1960s style because, in his dissipated years, the house was an odd combination of shabby and tacky. Appaprently, a man's home truly is his castle.

I suppose my problem with this whole thing is that the worship of Elvis so far outstrips his persona. A great musician? Yes; but so were many of his contemporaries, including the minority acts whose music Elvis took into the mainstream. But worthy of such adulation? Not unless he becomes the first saint of the Church of the Subgenius.

Many thanks to the Champion of the West, who sent along a link for the site in oppositon to the Save Karyn site I'd linked to yesterday.

She's also selling stuff on eBay, and getting decent money. Too bad, really. I was hoping the postage would be more than the winning bids.

Oh, thinking about yesterday, it would of course be required that the Utah NBA team become the Utah Hornetzz.

Three sporting ideas whose time has come.

1. The New Orleans Hornets and the Utah Jazz should swap nicknames. The New Orleans Jazz can thus ride again, and Utah will have a mascot fitting of the Beehive State. They could even swap "teams" and make like the New Orleans Jazz were just on hiatus, like the Cleveland Browns.

2. Government funded stadiums call eminent domain if there's a strike. Void the contract with the MLB team and let whoever wants to rent it do so. Bring back the Federal League. I know, it's not that simple, and finding enough willing new owners and players would be difficult at best. But it'd be fun to watch the reaction.

3. Pro kickball. This is what the WWE should have started, not the XFL.

I don't know if this site is inventive or insulting. I feel like sending her coupons or something, or buying her precious Prada shoes from her for $5.

Sarah's sharp eye noticed that the TRASHionals picture on whatsbetter.com was paired with a picture from the NAQT ICT. If you click on the button that shows the pairing, you'll see how the two stack up against each other.

I suppose I should be happy, being a TRASH editor, but fully realize that (a) popularity does not equal quality, even though I think out product is great, and (b) the TRASHionals rank may benefit from pairings against such unpopular items as the Nazis, hunger, and Todd Rundgren.

OK, who's the wise ass who did this?

Based on the picture, I'm willing to bet it's someone in my core readership.

In 1987, a guy playing both offense and defense for the Holy Cross football team garnered national attention for his alacrity on both sides of the ball. A story in Sports Illustrated helped whip up the oddest grass roots Heisman Trophy campaign in history. The throwback angle, combined with his playing for a smaller school with a fairly historic football program, created the idea of returning the Heisman to its stated intent - honoring the best college football player - rather than what it had become (and what it still is), a trophy for the best offensive skill position player on a nationally prominent, winning team.

He was helped by it being a slack year by Heisman standards. He finished third, beating out Lorenzo White from Michigan State and Craig "Ironhead" Heyward from Pitt. He narrowly lost the runner up spot to Syracuse's Don McPherson. Notre Dame's Tim Brown won the award going away that year, amassing over 1400 points, a good 800 more than McPherson. One does have to wonder what would have happened if Pitt and Syracuse were replaced on the list with, say, players from Washington and Florida. OK, he'd probably have only finished second, but still.

The Holy Cross player in question: Gordie Lockbaum.

I mention this today not because of the looming college football season, or because the Holy Cross head coach is Dan Allen, who led BU to its best football seasons ever and perhaps to its ultimate demise by leaving the cupboard bare for his successor.

Rather, Gordie Lockbaum, senior, gets mention because his son, Gordie Lockbaum, Junior, hit a home run to score the only run of the game to lead his Worcester, MA little league team to the Little League World Series.

While the story is notable in its own right, I mention it as it means that Gordie Lockbaum has a son old enough to play in this thing. I'm feeling old again.

Something else I get but don't get - NFL cheerleaders.

I know, cheerleaders are traditional for football, and there's the selling point of scantily clad women moving and shaking things (bodily or otherwise) for a heavily young, single, and male demographic. But then there's the fact that, in a stadium that seats at least 60,000, whose cheering are they leading? The front row of one section?

I'm prompted to query the need for cheerleaders after reading Bill Simmons column about the first episode of ESPN's The Season about the Raiderettes. If his description is close to accurate, the line between NFL cheerleaders and the lap dancers brought in to hype up the scabs in The Replacements is fine indeed. I suppose hoochies need to work, too.

(I know, some of these women are upstanding citizens, realistic about what being a cheerleader means, and aren't carrying any STDs. It's that stability that pushes them to the margins, as the hoochier members grab for exposure like a Survivor cast-off.)

Oh, and Raiderettes? Nice name. Right up there with the Jills, Ben-Gals, The Roar, Top Cats, Gold Rush, and perhaps the worst name, Sea Gals. Most teams have the smarts to just call their group the (Insert team name) Cheerleaders, which is bland but doesn't sound like something from the 1950s or another name from the folks who brought us Verizon and Accenture.

Then, of course, there are the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. The less said about them the better. If you're looking for why the 1970s were so insipid, you could do worse than starting here. Then there's the whole sociological thing about cheerleaders and Texas that confuses the rank and file American while guiding addled mothers to the ammo aisle at Wal-Mart.

The prominence of cheerleader links on many official NFL team pages makes me think I may be marching out of step on this. I'm sure the NFL marketing machine knows what it's doing.

Some news to chew on.

XXX tops box office I don't get Vin Diesel's appeal. I understand where it comes from, what with his hunky t-shirt wearing and urbanized Benicio Del Toro line delivery. But he's been in two good movies- Saving Private Ryan and The Iron Giant. It's not like he was the focus of the former, and God knows his mouth full of gravel style served him well in voicing a robot.

Other than that? Well, some liked The Fast and the Furious, and I can see how that'd appeal to the Nintendo generation. Otherwise, ugh.

I don't think he seems like a bad sort of person, as far as Hollywood types go. Maybe his theater and indie work grounded him or something. He's supposed to play Hannibal in a biopic slated for 2003 or 2004, which may be interesting, but I fear it'll wind up with Jerry Bruckheimer and Michael Bay running the show.

Columbian president declares "state of internal commotion" Nice spin on "state of internal anarchy thanks to narco-terrorism and leftist rebels." I blame Madonna.

US AIrways goes Chapter 11 If you've flown them any time since, say, 1998, this should be no surprise. Why do I think they should have just turned the entire airline into Metro Jet?

Best case scenario: they sell off some/all of their gates at Logan to JetBlue so we can finally have a discount carrier centrally located. Won't happen, but I can hope for it.

Jason Priestly fractures spine There's a joke here involving Priestly and James Dean, but I can't put it together. The real surprise for me here was that Priestly is driving in an IRL developmental league. Didn't know he was that committed to racing, but I don't follow much outside of F1 (and even that I only sort of follow, mostly to root against Michael Schumacher).

Apologies to Craig Barker for ripping off his format.

So we're watching A League of Their Own on TNT, and it is full of pan and scan. An amazing amount of pan and scan. A motion-sickness inducing amount of pan and scan.

Someone get Ted some money to show the letterbox version. Please.

Two interesting things about the previous list:

1. It didn't include people who were born on August 8 who are now dead (which makes sense). So happy birthday to the dear departed Charles Bullfinch, Sylvia Sidney, Matthew Henson, Emiliano Zapata, Ernest Lawrence, Paul Dirac, and Andy Warhol, among others.

2. It's also interesting to see who is (as far as I can tell) still alive and not on the list. Not making the news feature cut include Mel Tillis, Robin Quivers, Nigel Mansell, Richard Anderson (Oscar Goldman on The Six Million Dollar Man), Frank Howard, and Jose Cruz.

Among the interesting events that happened on this day in history:

* Napoleon sets sail for exile on St. Helena
* Brigham Young takes over the Mormon church
* First known ascent in a hot air balloon (indoors)
* Bhutan and the Ivory Coast become independent
* Goose Gossage records 300th save, Carlton Fisk ties Johnny Bench for most home runs by a catcher
* NYC has high temperature of 88 degrees on 8/8/88

I also seem to be coming up with today as Afghanistan's independence day, not the 18th as some would have you think.

What do Esther Williams, Donny Most, Keith Carradine, Dustin Hoffman, Deborah Norville, The Edge, Rikki Rocket (of Poison), Connie Stevens, JC Chasez (N Sync), Countess Vaughn (The Parkers), Peter Wier, Kool Mo Dee, Drew Lachey (98 Degrees), Larry Wilcox (CHiPS), and Princess Beatrice all have in common with me?

Our birthday. Woo!

Boggie may have The Mole and Cooch seems to enjoy the idea that he can get recaps of The Anna Nicole Show from TV Without Pity (a site I recommend, although the recaps can go on forever). I, however, have gotten interested in a show that almost defies recapping.

30 Seconds to Fame.

The premise is simple. Performers are rolled out at a breakneck clip and get 30 seconds to do their thing. The audience can vote them off by using some sort of device located at each seat. Performers surviving the 30 seconds are put into a pool, and the audience votes for the top three. Those three get another 30 seconds, audience votes again, winner gets $25k.

The show is hosted by Craig J. Jackson, who some of you may remember from his reporting and anchor duties on Channel One. That some of you being anyone under the age of, say, 25. The rest of us could remember him from his stint as host of The X Show on fX, but I'm willing to bet my core demographic (such as it is) doesn't quite match up with theirs. He's kind of a cross between Stuart Scott and Chuck Barris, and isn't too bad. He keeps things moving and light, at least. None of the faux-dramatic intonations the anonymous voice over guy from American Idol over-uses.

The acts are a real mixed bag. Mostly musical, either singing or instrumental. The singers tend to be OK, while the instrumentalists can really run the gamut. One of last night's winners (there being 2 episodes shown, as Meet the Marks, an improv/candid camera show, proved atrocious even by Fox network summer standards, which says something) was an electric violin player, who played on the same show as the guy who tried to play the clarinet and sax at the same time (and the woman who played the xylophone by spitting ping pong balls out of her mouth. I know where some of you are going with that- don't go there).

The other main type of act are movers, mostly dancing, but also martial artists, tumblers, Cirque du Soleil rejects, and so on. The other winners from last night were a dance pair who tangoed their way to the money after just 8 months of dancing together. There've also been hula dancers, more than one guy dancing with a doll/mannequin, and a male belly dancer (voted off).

Comedians fare poorly. There was one guy who was pretty funny last night, doing an impression of Al Pacino starring in Annie. Most get voted off, especially the prop comics. The wellspring of hate for Carrot Top is apparently deep enough for all of his comrades to take a dip, too.

I suppose the think that makes this a good show rather than a great show is that the contestants are, as a whole, perhaps too good. For every guy who yodels and strums a guitar upside-down, there are 4 or 5 relatively talented mainstream acts. Odd that I would criticize Fox for being too tasteful, but the show needs more fire eaters, plate spinners, and ventriloquists.

Or more of those large, pink-haired women who were so prominent in the early ads for the show (and still grace the website).

If 30 Seconds to Fame has done nothing else, it's showed the American viewing public that the human beatbox is alive an well. There were two on last night, and one the week before. The Fat Boys would be proud.

Having recently been through Chicago and Ann Arbor, a quick recap.

Blowin' through the Windy City Most of my previous trips to Chicago had it as the place to go through to get somewhere else (most memorably as the stop-over on a flight from Boston to Orlando, tickets bought through one of those supermarket register tape deals). This was the first time that I'd actually been in Chicago and actually did some Chicago-type things.

This meant on Friday seeing the Cubs beat the Rockies 6-4 in extra innings. Had unbelievable seats; face value $32, scalp for $25, about 30 feet from home. Missed the top of the first, but got to see 11.5 innings up close and personal. Saw Sammy go yard, Alfonseca blow a save by serving up Jack Cust's first MLB homer, and Moises Alou win with a walk-off 2 run job.

I also saw the future of homeland defense. The usher working the section in front of us (sections are refered to as "aisles" for some reason, but I'll use the more obvious term) was an older woman in her 60s, and she was relentless in keeping people out of her section who didn't belong, shooing people out of the actual aisle if they were blocking the view, and otherwise ruling that part of Wrigley with an iron fist. And who's going to argue with a midwestern grandmother? I'm thinking we get this woman and all of her friends to points of entry ASAP. Nothing could stop al-Qaeda colder than Nana's polite but firm no.

Returning on Sunday, we got kind of a late jump, so instead of doing a few different things we headed over to the Field Museum of Natural History. That part of Chicago is under construction (much of it perpetual, according to Greg), so parking was nightmarish. Once in, though, it was an easy walk to the museum "campus" that includes the Shedd Aquarium, a planetarium, and other stuff I'm forgetting. Oh, Solider Field is also right there, so we got to see some construction there, too.

Go to the Field Museum. They've got Sue the T Rex, the man-eating lions of Tsavo, and some other cool stuff. Plus, if you can convince the ticket people you're a teacher, you get in free!

As I've said in the past, one of these days I have to get to Chicago just to sightsee.

Oh yeah, the tournament The meat in the Chi-town sandwich was going out to Ann Arbor for an individual trash tournament. Both drives took place during evening/night/early morning hours, and I must have been a great traveling companion with all the napping I did. We stopped for dinner at a Steak 'n Shake, which was pretty good. They have really, really thin fries.

Tournament itself went better than expected, as I finished third out of 15 people. Highlight of the day was missing a question on the video game Mr. Do after playing the game during lunch. In an aside, Pinball Pete's is less cool now than it was in April, as they've thinned out their classic games and added a ton of music/dance games.

Post-tournament entertainment was pretty typical, Mexican food followed by Mike Burger's game show round (entertaining as always). The tournament all-star game was again in Weakest Link format, and I managed to get voted off after the second round. For my troubles, I won a number of books, including the novelizations of Space Camp and Dante's Peak.

Even the travel aspect of the weekend wasn't too out of hand, as both flights were relatively on time and hassle free. I can also confirm that American Airlines' claim of more leg room is spot on. It took me about 10 minutes on the flight out to realize what was different.

OK, I apparently need to use break tags much more liberally than originally thought. The links should all be nicely spaced now.

I've added some new links to people that weren't at BU at the same time I was (to the best of my knowledge). There are several other college bowl-related folks I could link to, but you can get to them pretty much through Craig's anyways. Though many of them have links to here, so I should just return the favor. Except that I can't be bothered right now. Too hot in the office.

I promised you a run down of TV Guide's 50 worst shows of all time, so here it is. I know you were waiting on tenterhooks!

My general observation about the list is that it seems to focus less on the truly worst shows than a combination of shows that combine lack of quality with a better cachet with the viewing public.

As much as it pains me to say it, I don't agree that The Jerry Springer Show is the worst TV show of all time. Should it be on the list? Certainly. But Springer has a knowing sense of its own lack of worth that other shows don't. Jenny Jones prattles on about the difference her show makes, even though it's best known for killing a guy. You could say the same of Ricki, Maury, and the dear departed Sally Jesse. None of them quite let the wall come down and admit that they're playing to the basest interest. Jerry does. For that he does deserve a place on the list. Just not the top one.

Should the XFL take the third spot? Production values were low, broadcast teams ill suited for football, and the product didn't live up to hype (to everyone's shock and chagrin). But was it worse than a variety show starring the Brady Bunch? Or a bunch of corn-fed yokels featuring Kathie Lee Gifford? Or worse than Celebrity Boxing, a show that put non-athletes (that's including the Fridge and Manute) into bouts that were fixed (sources indicate taping of several different endings)? The XFL, as far as we can tell, featured current athletes in non-fixed situations.

The biggest problem with the list is the show in fifth place - Hogan's Heroes. You can attack the show on several levels- it makes light of war, trivializes the Nazis, and so on. These would be good arguments- if the series was in any way meant to look at World War II in a meaningful way. The show was as knowing in its way as Springer. And would two men affected by the Holocaust- Robert Clary and Werner Klemperer- be involved in the show if they thought it demeaned their struggles? One would have to think they were happy to play the Nazis for chumps.

It's escapist humor all the way, and still provides chuckles today. This show shouldn't be on the list.

Hello, Larry at 12 is high. The show, one of McLean Stevenson's many post-MASH projects, is probably his best in that line. Not that it's high praise. The story of a single dad raising daughters while working on an AM station in Portland, Oregon, it combined domestic and topical humor (such as the older daughter's IUD use leading to an infection). The show is clearly better than Condo (perhaps his worst show, a mishmash of racial and cultural "humor"), In the Beginning, and the TV version of Dirty Dancing. Hello Larry makes the list because it's the best known of the group.

Twenty-One is most likely on the list due to the Charles van Doren scandal. The lame revival didn't help, either. But it's not 13th worst. It's better than most of the shows on the list, more deserving of something in the 40s. Or a trade with Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire, which should be much higher on moral grounds alone.

Notably absent is any of the twaddle that's tried to fill the 8:30 Thurday time slot on NBC over the last few years. No The Single Guy or Union Station or Jesse or Inside Schwartz. All of which were worse than, say, Life with Lucy, The Ropers, or even Unhappily Every After (with sincere thanks to Nikki Cox's decolletage).

Other shows that don't seem to fit the list:

Howard Stern and The Tom Green Show Neither show caters to a mainstream audience, and Stern is hampered by trying to convert a radio show into a visual medium. But both hit upon a level of humor in America that clearly exists, even if it's not the level of folks who get all of the New Yorkercartoons (at least not admittedly).

I don't personally care for either Stern or Green, but think that they've redefined comedy in their own ways, and their shows probably would get the average person to laugh more than, say, Working or Fired Up.

Holmes and Yoyo Cop with bad luck in partners gets mated up with an android. It was out there for a 1970s show, but at least it wasn't all preachy (I'm looking at you, Quincy!).

Pink Lady... and Jeff Jeff Altman hosts, Pink Lady (a pair of Japanese women) sings, and no one understands each other. Jim Varney appears in a number of comedy sketches. It's train wreck funny, which I suppose means it should be a bottom 50 show, but can't think that this would be there and Susan and Mel Together, another incomprehensible pairing (but with two people- Susan Anton and Mel Tillis- who speak the same language... to a point), isn't.

Makin' It The greatest sitcom about roller disco ever. OK, this really does belong, but I watched this show a lot. Don't know why, exactly. I didn't roller skate, disliked disco, and couldn't identify with the family all that much. But Ellen Travolta can play a sitcom mother to perfection. Maybe that was it.

I suppose I should argue for The Flying Nun, but I can't. I really never cared for the show.

Other shows present an almost theological problem, in that arguing for or against them is a matter of such fine degree that it's almost pointless. I'm thinking here of shows like She's the Sheriff, A.K.A. Pablo, Rango, Co-ed Fever, shows whose general lack of quality makes them hard to distinguish from other bad shows that didn't make the list and which, thankfully, are receding into memory.

Barney, however, seems like the perfect capper.

Notes from a quiet weekend:

Going to the rock shows Within 48 hours got tickets to two shows about two weeks apart. On September 17 we'll be seeing Coldplay, a group I admittedly know little about but whose music I like. They're playing the FleetBoston Pavilion, which used to be the more euphoniously named Harbor Lights. Some group called Ash is opening, and I know absolutely nothing about them.

On October 1, we're making our return to the Fleet Center proper to see Paul McCartney again. This makes Sir Paul the second musical act I've seen twice in concert, the first being Rush. Who, come to think of it, may have been the last thing I saw at the Boston Garden (though it's more likely a Beanpot or Hockey East playoff game would fill that role).

Shop until the drops Facing a Sunday without anything planned and both of us needing a quality clothing item (a dress for Sarah and the elusive sneakers for me), we figured it was a good time to visit one of the area's fine outlet malls. It was a choice between the Worcester Common Outlets (formerly the Worcester Common Fashion Outlets, but now apparently so much more!) and the Wrentham Village Premium Outlets. The latter seems to have more options, and it has the added bonus of not being in Worcester. So off to Wrentham we went.

In my mind, outlet shopping is what you do in vast warehouse-type places that sell all the stuff they couldn't get rid of otherwise. Not so with Wrentham Village, which was nicer than some malls I'm familiar with.

In any case, Sarah found a dress the first place we looked. How often does that happen?

My sneaker hunt took us to Adidas first, and apprently the Euros don't have feet as big as mine. Second stop was Reebok, and that's where my five years of footwear frustration finally finished. Got a decent pair of cross-trainers, $40. Now I'm all set until 2007.

It's an open-air sort of affair, with covered and uncovered walkways between buildings. Which is why it was good we finished before the rain started, even if there wasn't much rain to worry about.

Was that it? Pretty much. Spent a fair amount of time lounging about the apartment, worked out on Saturday, made a stop at Jiffy Lube to change the oil, and had a lovely drive past Cochituate State Park.

NEWS FLASH Allen Iverson had 13 of the 14 counts against him thrown out by a judge today, leaving only the charge about making terroristic threats. I suppose he'll have the family over again.

NEWS FLASH Budget, 15 passenger van provider to BU College Bowl lo these many years filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy today. In some way, this explains why they never had the van in Allston waiting for us.

One of the drawbacks to watching any of the programming on Fox this summer is the interminable promotion of shows premiering in the fall (sort of like how the World Series last year was seemingly brought to us by Keifer Sutherland). There are four shows that have, after much, much promotion, stuck in my head.

Fastlane The Fox website touts it as being brought to us by the director of Charlie's Angels and the writer of The Fugitive, which is at best half promising.

The set-up is like pretty much every other cop show. Using a vast warehouse of luxury cars, high performance motorcycles, and tony designer clothing and accessories, a pair of LA's finest fight crime while reporting to a supervisor who looks like a magazine cover model.

Clearly, the folks behind this show have exposed themselves to a dangerous mixture of The Fast and the Furious, Grand Theft Auto, and Robo trippin', but have had to clean things up for network TV. Even Fox has standards. I think.

My brother is a cop. Admittedly, he works in Chelsea, Massachusetts, not the sort of place where a lot of confiscated Rolexes and Ducatis are going to wind up. But I don't remember him ever mentioning that officers got to use impounded goods for anything. And I certainly don't think his supervisor ever appeared on the cover of Cosmo, Teen, YM, or Sophisticate's Hairstyle Guide.

I'm sure Vin Diesel will appear as the cheif of some sort of Gen Y hardbody police squad during sweeps.

girls club I don't even know where to start with how much the promos for this have turned me off. Let us count the ways.

1. It's a David E. Kelley production. His forays into the legal world include the self-hating and self-absorbed defenders on The Practice and the loopy, anorexic, and self-absorbed shysters on Ally McBeal. They say bad things come in threes.

2. Gretchen Mol plays the blonde lawyer. For those of you not familar with Mol, Vanity Fair tapped her as the "next big thing" back in 1998 just as she made her foray into major films in Rounders, a not bad film starring Matt Damon and Edward Norton. The only problem was someone forgot to tell Mol that she was supposed to be big. Four years later, she's mostly been in smaller movies and crap (The Thirteenth Floor and Get Carter, the latter of which she tried to duck by being uncredited).

I don't know if Mol's trying to channel Kim Novak in the cool blonde department, but it's not working. Mol seems more detached than cool, which (for me at least) leads to apathy, if not dread, of her performances.

That and Kim Novak's not dead! Don't channel the living, it'll screw up some sort of inter-dimensional barrier. Didn't Superman II teach us anything?

3. The name of the show is in all lowercase. The estate of e. e. cummings, contact your attorney.

4. The three lead actresses are blonde, brunette, and redheaded. Couldn't we just have a live action Powerpuff Girls instead?

5. Giancarlo Esposito apparently plays one of the partners of the law firm the show follows. I have a bad identification with Esposito from the last season of Homicide. He wasn't the worst offender (I'm looking at you, Jon Seda!), but was emblematic of the way the show tanked at the end.

6. Felicity Huffman is resigned to doing this show? What the hell? It's not as bad as Josh Malina getting stuck with Imagine That, but yikes! How have these people pissed Aaron Sorkin off? Can't we use Rob Lowe's salary to fund some recurring roles to save people from crap?

7. The ad uses a Madonna song. Personal problem.

8. The show hasn't aired episode one, and Fox already has message boards up for it. Again I say, what the hell?

I know, it's trying to take the Ally time slot and demo and run, so as an over 30 male I shouldn't be interested. And I'm not. Mission accomplished, I guess.

John Doe A man who knows everything doesn't know his own name or how he got where he is. Kind of like if Dwight Kidder got knocked on the head and left in a corn field in Nebraska.

It's in the Friday at 9 slot, so it's going for that X Files/Millenium/Dark Angel vibe. It at least appears moderately interesting.

Firefly It's 400 years in the future, there's been some sort of "universal civil war" according to the show's Fox website (how can a civil war be universal? Aren't civil wars intra- rather than inter-?). A transport ship cruises the outer planets trying to dodge the powers that be while hauling stuff, doing some things that aren't wholly legal, and otherwise participating in the sort of affairs that are normally left to folks on Star Trek or crappy syndicated shows.

Joss Whedon of Buffy the Vampire Slayer fame is in charge of this, so I'm willing to give it the benefit of the doubt. But I'm out if space demons start showing up.

The one new show that didn't stick in my head was Cedric the Entertainer Presents. It's sketch comedy, it's a large man dancing, it's on Wednesday at 8:30 when I'll be looking for improvement out of Ed.

It's always nice to find out well after the fact that a wooden sailing vessel you once cruised on may not be as seaworthy as you'd have hoped.

To be fair, though, the folks on the Ernestina are great, and the cruise we took from New Bedford to Boston was great, even if we had to go under engines rather than sail (and I don't think it took 20 people to get the sail up; I may be misremembering, but I'd like to think we were heartier souls). Any trip that lets you say that you skippered a schooner, even for a little while, is worth doing.

I had a law professor who used to say that the truth of a case lies in the footnotes. There's the old saying that the devil is in the details. And, of course, there's the old White Cloud toilet paper commercial that reminded us all that "little things mean a lot."

All of these things are crossing my mind as, with the installation of new computers in my office, I discover that perhaps the smallest change is causing the most problems.

My mouse doesn't have one of those scroll wheels on it.

How much am I missing it? The first thing I did when I grabbed the mouse to read the Globe this morning was try to find the wheel to scroll down.

I'll readjust to not having one, just as I have to adjust from PC to Mac (and vice versa) commands on an almost daily basis. It's just going to stink for a while as I paw at the top of my mouse to no avail.

If there's ever been a case for contraction during a game, this may be it.

Would anyone who doesn't live within 10 miles of I-4 miss this team? Heck, how about five miles?

MLB money well spent keeping this franchise afloat.

So I go to the trouble of making that little quiz, and I screwed up one of the answers. Won't tell you which one (for those who haven't taken it yet), but I can check for all of you if you're that interested.

In completely unrelated news, the Braves-Phillies are playing tonight wearing 1970s retro unis. While the Braves are wearing some horrible blue ensemble (which may be the unis they wore when Hank Aaron set the home run mark), the Phils are wearing the old maroon and white jobbies. I actually think I like them better than the new set.

Take the first of what will probably be a number of tests about me, me, me!

Click here for the test. It should really be called "Mark: The Early Years."

Blame Sorenson for this.

Some quick hits:

* Apparently, if you appeared on more than one episode of The West Wing last season, you got an Emmy nod. Same seems to be the case for Six Feet Under, but not having HBO I can't confirm this.

My least favorite West Wing nom has to be Mary-Louise Parker for playing shrill feminist Amy Gardner. An annoying character, complicated by Parker still looking like the trailer park mom she played in The Client.

* Notably reduced presence for the Emmys: ER. Someone finally noticed the show is on fumes.

* Notably hackneyed presence for the Emmys: Kelsey Grammer and David Hyde Pierce. These nominations may be the only proof that Frasier is still on the air.

* Buffy continues to get snubbed in categories outside of hair, make-up, and music. I've not seen much of UPN Buffy, but I can't imagine it's that much different from WB Buffy, which was eminently nomination-worthy.

* Everyone who thought Lance Armstrong was in trouble please stand and take your catcalls. Consider that if he wasn't involved in an accident during an earlier stage, he could have retaken the yellow jersey days ago.

Lance went from about 30 seconds down to leading by just over 70 seconds. He could be up by five minutes before the weekend's out. Or he could be in a battle with a younger climber and I'll have to eat my hat.

* They key to using the "watch this auction" function on eBay is actually bidding on items before they expire. I think I miss about 80 percent of the items I've marked. Which is probably a good thing, budget-wise.

I did manage to remember today, and bid on a BU-Tufts football program (which I lost) and a game called Billionaire that I once owned as a kid. It was one of my few purchases during the year or two when my mother dragged me to a local flea market every so often (usually with a friend of hers and her son, so at least I had company most of the time).

Funny thing is my mom probably bought as much as I did at this flea market. Not that there weren't things to get; it was huge, and had some decent stuff. I think she went mostly to get more books to read at work (romance novels by the pound, basically, as they were easy to put down and pick up again when a patient at the nursing home needed help). I did get a bike there (a 10 speed, back before everyone had a mountain bike), and it wasn't bad. Of course, it got stolen, and was eventually recovered, but broken in such a way that it was of little use from then on. Thanks.

* Is it a bad sign that at the tender age of 32 I've already turned to the lottery as my main investment strategy for the golden years?

OK, "main investment strategy" is a little extreme. But we do buy a Mega Millions (nee Big Game) ticket or two every week. I know, it's a kind of regressive tax, but it's not like we blow our food money on it.

* Several Red Sox moments on the top 10 baseball fights listed on Sports Center tonight. Pedro mixing it up with the Devil Rays, Izzy Alcantera kicking the catcher, and one I had forgotten about. Aaron Sele plunked George Bell in 1993. Bell charged the mound, missing Sele with a haymaker (as White Sox fans can attest, swinging and missing was Bell's hallmark that year). Before he could regroup, Mo Vaughn dropped him with a nice block. Had be been a Patriot, he'd have gotten credit for the pancake.

* In the space of 90 minutes tonight, I saw a pug, a daschund, and a Westie out on walks (not all together). As I've said before, my male biological clock is ticking: I need to have a dog.

You can stop making that face, Sarah!

OK, I'm not proud to admit this, but I have been watching American Idol.

I'm not much into pop music, and I generally dislike the non-game show entries into the reality TV genre. So how is it that I'm watching this latest overnight programming sensation?

Well, Sarah was watching it.

Which is how I seem to get dragged into most of Fox's reality programming. Not that I watched copious amounts of Hardbody Atoll or Whores Ahoy!, and neither of us saw a second of Loose Women on the Last Frontier. But where I've seen bits and pieces that usually return me to my book, in this case I've actually decided to keep with the show.

Why? Well, here are some of the things that don't keep me tuning in every week:

1. The hosts Ostensibly, the show is hosted by two guys named Ryan Seacrest and Brian Dunkleman. If they don't sound familiar, that's OK. They shouldn't. Unless you have a memory for people who play characters like "waiter" or "customer." Seacrest apparently has hosting experience from a number of shows I've never heard of (The Click? Gladiators 2000?). This does give him an iota of presence, and I'm sure his Mark McGrath lite looks help with the target demographic. The less said about Dunkleman the better.

The co-host banter is weak, their interplay with the judges predictable, and the questions they pose to the contestants mostly obvious. The co-hosts mostly serve to link performances, judging, and the many, many commercials.

Speaking of which...

2. The ads American Idol is stuffed with ads. And I don't just mean the obvious ones. The show's two biggest sponsors are Coke and Ford (in their continuing quest to brand the Focus to Gen Y types; sorry, Ford, but when I was in Maine last weekend I saw a Focus being driven by an elderly couple. Ha!). The Coke presence on the show is obvious. All the judges have Coke cups in front of them. There was a Coke machine in the green room in earlier shows. Contestants are shown holding Coke products. The co-hosts make an occasional heavy-handed reference to Coke.

Ford couldn't be so sneaky. So they went the complete opposite direction. Each show contains the "Focus on the contestants" section, where the kids get to play around a car or two, or pretend to drive one while musing on their performance. The spots are lame, but are at least in the open.

The ultimate problem regarding advertising is that the show doesn't have enough material to fill its time slot. This is especially true for the half-hour selection shows, which may feature more ad time per minute than anything this side of QVC. Clorette DePasto didn't use so much padding when she scored with Larry "Pinto" Kroger in Animal House.

3. The "conflict" Most of the show's current buzz centers around judge Simon Cowell, whose tart-tongued dismissal of contestants who don't perform to his standard raises hackles with fans, contestants, the idiot co-hosts, and fellow judges Randy Jackson and Paula Abdul (I won't even go into the problem with having Abdul serve as a judge).

This boiled over a few weeks ago, to the point where Jackson got up and looked like he wanted to fight Simon over comments made to a contestant. This then turned into an "us versus them" thing, where the nasty Brit was taking on America, where everyone deserves praise!

Except that they don't.

Now Simon is some sort of Snidley Whiplash sort of character, a mock villain who is roundly booed by the audience and dissed by judges and the occasional contestant. Simon takes it in good fun for the most part, but does get serious when defending his outlook: they're there to judge who's got the most superstar potential, and those who don't have it need to leave.

Could Simon be less confrontational? Probably. But he also knows what he's talking about. The two contestants he pegged losers were the least successful performers this week, clearly. And if the one who managed to get through does win, it would be a failure. Just one of those failures that don't really impact the public at large, like New Coke or adopting the metric system.

And didn't Anne Robinson teach us anything? Or at least soften us up for acid-tongued Brits dressed in black?

Most of the confrontation between Simon and the judges, hosts, and audience feels fake. I know, something related to the music industry that's fake. Who'd have thought?

So why do I keep watching? I don't know. I certainly don't fall into that 13-24 demographic that the producers covet, and I obviously think that there's an overall lack of quality with the show. I suppose what I do like it that the show is, to some extent, merit-based. It's not about forming alliances, screwing someone over, or having the mediocre gang up on the talented. The public does vote on winners, but in large part they vote for the better performers.

Except in the case of A. J. Gil, whose continued presence on the show is a mystery. My guess is that he's got a relative working for the phone company.

In the end, for all the furor over the show now, I can't see American Idol making a lasting impression on the American entertainment landscape. Whoever wins this show will probably be the 21st century equivalent of Sam Harris. The show may come back for a future run, but the fickle, what's new attitude of the show's primary demographic- teens- will most likely be its undoing.

So watch it while you can. Or don't.

While watching SportsCenter tonight, their piece about cloning athletes mentioned this oddly prescient volume.

You have to think that the first reporter who comes up with a library check-out record or Amazon.com purchase by John Henry Williams is going to be short-listed for a Pulitzer.

Did I mention that I got spammed by the Republican National Committee?

Technically, I got spammed by the good folks at directoffers.net, but it's not like they do this sort of thing out of charity. Or perhaps they do. Can't say I know the GOP's stance on spam, but I can see where they'd vaguely support it as good for commerce (as opposed to the Dems, who could back spam on a First Amendment basis).

The email starts:

"The Republican Party's cadre of Team Leaders is on the march, and you will be a valuable member.  As a member of this team, you are part of a fast growing network of volunteers who help President Bush achieve his agenda for America by spreading his message and helping elect more Republicans across the nation."

Why does having a cadre of leaders sound like Enron's management plan? Shouldn't the Team Leaders be at the head of the cadres? Of course, the word "cadre" was pretty well co-opted by the commies, so to put it in a parlance that even W would understand, it sounds like too many cowboys and not enough Indians (not that they'd be all that welcome in the GOP). Not that the Wellesley cadre would have any cowboys, either. The spurs might catch on the leather interior of their M-class Mercedes SUV.

Now that the RNC admits that Bush has an agenda, can gay people now oppose him claiming they need to stop the "dim-witted grown up frat boy" agenda?

The email continues with that line we've all come to know and love when unexpected email arrives in our box:

"This email has been sent to you in order to verify your subscription to receive email updates from the Republican National Committee."

I did send my reply to the listed address to ask the fine people at directoffers.net to remove from this list, but we'll see. Perhaps I'll be asked to join the Team Followers cadres, or get to let Dick Cheney stay over one night to keep him on the move and away from terrorists. Or helping OJ find the real killers. Whatever he's up to when he's on the move.

I suppose if I were a Republican, I would feel a little sad that the party is now on the same level as the herbal Viagra and inkjet cartridge refill people. Actually, I feel that way regardless. Maybe the Dems will put passes making random people super-delegates for the 2004 convention in Value-Paks.

Then again, both parties seem skilled at spamming themselves.

Greater threat to the US: Islamic terrorists or crooked corporate execs? Discuss.

I hope that if I ever get charged with a variety of felonies and misdemeanors- little things like criminal trespass, violations of firearms laws, and making terroristic threats- that I get a few days to chill at home and have the family over for a party.

From what I can tell, the delay in Allen Iverson's case is due to his attorney being on vacation. All I know is that if it's me facing those charges, I'd be rotting away in, say, Norfolk or the big house waiting for my court-appointed defender to learn how to spell my name.

I've had this odd build-up behind my sinuses for the past week.

It started on Friday, when a serendipitous lunch with Shawn and Laura DeVeau (met out of the blue at, of all places, Burrito Max) was interrupted with the news that Ted Wiliams had died.

Pressure built as the Sox lost 2 of 3 in Detroit, was alleviated slightly by the Home Run Derby, and came back with a vengance in the wake of the All Star Game. It reached titanic proportions with the flood of talk regarding labor, steroids, and fiscal ill health.

Oh, and there's the whole Ted on Ice thing, too. That's not helping.

It could be the only thing that'll clear my head is to chuck baseball. Again.

About 10 years ago, I would tell just about anyone who brought the subject up that I was sick of baseball. The 1990 lockout was still in people's minds, and after a divison title that year the Sox were slumping to medocrity. Consider that their big off season signings for the 1991 season were Matt Young, Danny Darwin, and a very old Jack Clark.

Then 1994 came around. The nadir. As far off my radar screen as baseball was before the strike, it was buried deep after that.

But then baseball came back. Cal Ripken broke Lou Gehrig's consecutive game streak. The Sox stopped stinking. And I undertook the previously mentioned baseball book a week challenge specifically in an attempt to become interested in baseball again.

It worked. Baseball still wasn't my favorite sport, but I watched a lot more, and followed the sport more closely. Fantasy sports, as often as they're derided for eroding fandom into rooting for individuals and situations, brought more interest into learning who certain players were and who was coming up and wrapping up.

But now that feeling's back. That feeling that my revived interest in baseball is about to be stomped on by men both in cleats and in Gucci loafers. That feeling that I might as well adopt NASCAR as my summer sport of choice to fill time between the Stanley Cup playoffs and preseason football. That feeling that anyone who has any pull in major league baseball doesn't care one whit about my interest- except when I'm paying for tickets, buying overpriced concessions, or plumping ad revenue when I watch at home, generating ratings.

As I've said, I'm dubious about orgainzed fan action against baseball. I don't think there are enough hardcore fans to make a strike work, be it for one day or the whole season. I also think that, for most folks, spouting rhetoric is enough to make them feel better; venting often fills the bill, even if it's venting aimed at sparking a course of action. Unlike this person, I don't see such action as a sign of jealousy. Yes, there are bigger things to get outraged over. But baseball relies on fan support. Without fannies in the seats or people watching at home, there'd be no money to pay anyone. When the powers that be treat their consumers in a fashion akin to the way Godzilla treats the Ginza, the consumers should respond.

How should they respond? Just walk away. No torchlight rallies, no wailing and gnashing of teeth, no impassioned speeches decrying players and owners alike. Just tuck your money back in your billfold and find something else to do when you'd normally focus on baseball. Rent a movie. Read a book. Go to a musuem. Spend time with family just talking.

Most important: once you walk away, don't look back. Orpheus learned the hard way about looking back before you get what you want. Baseball fans should heed that lesson if we lose another season.

Songs That I Like But Shouldn't, Part 1

Days Go By by Dirty Vegas - it's a dance/techno song popularized by a car commercial. All the things that, together, should make me turn the dial in agony the second this song cues up. But instead I listen to the whole thing. Why?

It's the video. Your classic "boy has girl, boy loses girl, years later man breakdances to win girl back" story. I must have a weakness for kickin' it old school.

Can't Get You Out of My Head by Kylie Minogue - Perhaps the most apropos song title of the last decade. The song is annoying as all get out, but it infects your brain and forces you to listen- even after the song's been over for 20 minutes.

Thankfully, it's not on that much anymore.

Hot in Herre by Nelly - I'm not a fan of hip-hop, and the title misspelling is just dumb. But when you have an opening line like "Good gracious, ass is bodacious," it's hard not to stick with it. The best use of a thesaurus since Madonna went on about the bourgeois in that horrid little song of hers.

I suppose I should say something about Ted Williams, but if you read Couture's blog (or journal or diary or precious memory book or whatever the hell he wants to call it) he's pretty much said what I'm thinking.

My current problem is that the whole cryo thing has me thinking about a book I read in something like 3rd or 4th grade and I can't remember the title. Quick synopsis: boy growing up in some sort of dystopic version of California (OK, a different dystopic version of California) stumbles across a doctor who perfected suspended animation using noble gases or some crap like that, foils the fascist lite power structure, and gets everyone he loves to the buried passenger train that the doc has fitted out. They all breathe deep and wake up in the future, ready to start anew.

Not childhood classic by any means (more of a hint about my leanings towards alternative historical fiction). More apt as the sort of stuff that Scholastic Books pushed on us before their recent campaign to turn kids into devil worshipers.

A question for any armchair theologians out there:

If you go to church only to find that the Mass schedule has changed without your knowing it, and the service you planned to attend wasn't being held (due to a summer schedule), do you still get credit for the service? Assume that there are no other services within a reasonable distance (which, as far as I know, is the case).

Any similarities between this and George Carlin's "Heavy Mystery" routine is accidental.

The sun's finally beginning to get through all the smoke from those forest fires in Canada. I suppose it's fair trade for all the acid raid we caused them over the last few decades.