Check It Out

My new favorite disc is Walking Concert's Run To Be Born. The front man is Walter Schreifels -- there's a slim chance you know him from his previous outfit, Rival Schools. Schreifel's vocals remain as distinctive as they were with RS, but the finished product is a polished Brit-like pop that offers quite a contrast to his previous work.

BTW, I bought the disc from ModernRock.com; I found them via Yahoo Shopping. Their inventory is definitely a hit-or-miss proposition, but at $11.55 with shipping, their price was well below everything else I'd found. But what really struck me was their repeated pleas to "help keep prices low" by clicking "responsibly". Apparently Yahoo charges "click fees" that can really add up when customers browse titles, and that are applied even if no sale is made.

It got me to thinking about "responsible clicking" more generally. One of my New Year's resolutions was/is to refrain from clicking on any entertainment news headlines, no matter how juicy. Clicking only feeds the horrible monster that is tabloid journalism. Your clicks count, probably at least as much as your vote, so click judiciously.

Corporate Enablers

Americans are fat. I know from personal experience that obesity among urban Chinese, even urban Thais, is understated, but American supremacy in this field remains unchallenged.

Consider my trip last year to Six Flags New England: I noticed that the last one or two rows of most of the roller coasters were permanently roped off. Why? Because the coaster industry is dominated by European manufacturers -- like Intamin (Ride of Steel, Kingda Ka) and Bolliger & Mabillard (The Dark Knight) -- who are accustomed to designing rides for wine-and-cheese types. Loading one of these coasters full of "average" Americans is to risk exceeding their maximum allowable weight.

Not that I'm any better than average. I've gained 15 pounds since last summer, mostly during the holiday season. I'm just starting to shed the weight now that I've stopped gorging on Christmas cookies. But my point is that, at 6'4" and pushing 220 pounds, I consider myself extra-large, at least. I recently went shopping for a pair of running pants. I found a real bargain at Old Navy, but was amazed that their XL would better serve me as a sleeping bag. Even the large was a bit large. I would have gone with medium but they were just a tad -- and only a tad -- short. Medium?! I haven't worn a medium anything since elementary school.

Where am I going with this? I'm not sure, but something's afoot. The sock manufacturers are involved somehow too. I bought a 3-pack of socks designed to fit sizes 6 to 12; stretched over my 13s, they still reach to just below my knees.

And while I'm on the subject (whatever that subject might be), I am appalled by rumblings that suggest class-action suits might be filed against fast food companies by obese patrons in the way that smokers have targetted the tobacco companies. Corporate fraud and deception should be prosecuted, of course, but if I'm hungry and the health risks are a matter of public record, then I want the freedom to buy, or for that matter to sell, 46 grams of fat. In a sub roll. For breakfast.

BTW, I'm still more than a little proud of myself for making that Six Flags trip. I was luggage after five rides, but we're talking about a quality-over-quantity proposition. Have you ever been on a modern coaster? Insanity.

Read it Here Now or in Variety Later

Someday, and Lord may that day not be far off, Press Your Luck will inspire a film. When that day comes, the role of Peter Tomarken should, nay, must be played by Steve Carell.

There are elements of Quiz Show that come to mind, and while a PYL adaptation might lack the punch of the Chuck Barris "story" or the tragedy of Auto Focus, there's a wealth of material to be developed from the two-day tour de force of Michael Larson.

Literal Nightcap

By the way, I need to tell you about my sleeping cap. You see, my bedroom is always freezing this time of year. I have (old) windows on three sides and just a small crawlspace above separating me from the elements. I don't mind bundling up under extra blankets, in fact I enjoy it, but with my head uncovered I invariably arose with a cold-like malaise I could not shake without a hot shower and a decent breakfast. And if I went more than a couple days without a full night's sleep, I was generally sick by the weekend.

I cleaned out my closets in September and came across one of the ski caps a teammate's mother had knitted for our crew team way back when. It sat on the chair at the foot of my bed until the first real chill of December compelled me to put it on. What I like most about it is its soft yarn doesn't make my forehead itch.

I'm now a big believer in the sleeping cap and am waking up clear as a bell, but don't take my word for it. A Harvard neuroscientist estimates as much as 30% of one's body heat is lost through the head.

Long Road Back

Sometime over the summer I fell out of the habit of using mouthwash. I was still brushing regularly, even flossing occasionally, but neglecting to rinse. Last month I got back on the Listerine wagon, but it hasn't been easy. Do you rinse daily? If so, perhaps you've forgotten the excruciating pain involved in conditioning your tongue and gums to handle eucalyptol, methyl salicylate, and the like.