--Here's some fun: At the end of a major sports championship, do yourself a favor. Get on the Internet and try to find live video of a newscast in the winning city. It's a lot more interesting to see how a city celebrates a success than it is to mourn a failure. For three days afterward, no one in the city wants to talk about anything else; this is particularly true in a city (like Tampa) that predicates much of its well-being on the success or failure of its sports teams.
--If it were up to Governor Sarah Palin (R-Alaska) and her family, I'm sure David Letterman would be out of work, out of a fortune and out on the streets of Nome with a placard saying "Will Tell Inoffensive Jokes for Food". I'd like to see David make jokes under really stressful conditions; serves the son of a bitch right.
--Seven hundred thousand people have called an FCC hotline for assistance with the digital television transfer that just took place. At least one person in America doesn't give a shit; the one who called in to WBZ-AM in Boston the other night to tell Dan Rea that. She's smarter than the average American would appear to be.
--It is impossible to Twitter--whatever the hell that means--when you are in the shower, when you are sleeping, when you are having sex, or a combination of all three.
--Wendy's has come out with "buffalo wings". They're not wings in the academic sense. They're Chicken Nuggets that get dipped in sauce that render them useless for picking up. All of these are terrible things to do to a chicken's balls.
--Somewhere in Heaven, Walter Matthau and Robert Shaw are reading the reviews of the remake of their film The Taking of Pelham One Two Three and snickering with glee among themselves. Their legacy is safe.
--Whatever the benefits of Blu-ray video discs are, I can tell that this is what happens when you scrape the emulsion off the film. It must be akin to the pain one feels after plastic surgery.
--Most days on the way home from work, only--only--because there is nothing else on the radio at that time, I listen to Michael Savage. He is what Howard Beale might have been if he had a radio mike and not a teevee camera to talk into. He also, as you may or may not know, is the talk show host who has (probably inadvertently) been banned from Britain. I worry, when Dr. Savage is not variously calling me a schmuck, a schmendrick or a putz, that he will obtain the transcript of his trial after he wins and go on the air and do nothing but read from it every day. The good news is that I really only listen to Dr. Savage for forty-five minutes or less at a time. A little bit of a lunatic goes a longer way than you'd think.
--The circus is a little easier to take if it's happening over there. Ask anyone who lives in a city that has hosted a Super Bowl.
--Here's a packing tip if you're visiting Florida: Pack a oilworker's proximity suit if you want to beat the heat. Also, pack a wetsuit not just to jump into the ocean, but also to brave the summer monsoons.
--During this piece, I've been listening to the Subway Series game at Yankee Stadium. Nowadays, when John Sterling tells me that one of the Yankees is safe on the bases, he must launch right into a plug for New York Life. One of these days, he and Suzyn Waldman are going to tear up all of those ad cards on the air in a revolt; I'm just rooting for something like that to happen. The play's the thing, after all.
--Similarly, on one of these all-news radio stations, I'd be very happy to hear one of these newscasters tell me the temperature, as they must do every four or so minutes, and then add, "If you don't know how hot it is by now, you have no damn reason to be outside in the first place."
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