NonEssentials

If you haven't done so, go out now and rent/buy John Adams, the HBO mini-series. It is very well acted and directed. The settings are fabulous. Laura Linney (Abigail) and Paul Giamatti (John) are able to communicate passion and their deep, abiding love in a time when restraint, even between a married couple, was the order of the day. So much of what happened during that tumultuous birth of our nation is reenacted to perfection. When I saw the video on sale at Amazon, I scrolled down to the reviews written by those who bought it. The first one began impressively, giving a glowing overview of what was outstanding about this video. Then came these words, "And Thomas Jefferson is hot." Really. No kidding. The comment immediately below that one reiterated that Thomas Jefferson was "hot." Thank you, Paris Hilton, for ruining almost every scene with Stephen Dillane (the actor who played Jefferson), because my inner voice would say, "Yeah, he is kinda hot." T...

I have heard from my legion of fans (all three of them) wondering why they haven't been able to read my delightful insights lately. For you three faithful friends, here goes (you asked for it, don't blame me for what follows): At the university where I work, I have become accustumed to teaching a political science class every fall semester. It's a decent gig, but it's always a core class, which means I have many, many students and many, many non-political science majors who can barely keep their heads from falling into their super-caffineated lattes. Well, last semester, nothing! I figured the political science department had progressed from the bottom of the food chain and lucked out -- there were a good number of teaching assistants who would (had to) do this work for a pittance. So, they hadn't reached my level in the hierarchy (occupied soley by me). Bummer. The other supplemental work I had was teaching a paralegal class on Contracts and Intellectual Property...

I didn't think much of it -- I have a couple of nice afghan throws if it gets too cold in my house. (Note: It's cold in my house because I am cheap and every time I hear the furnace click on, it sets my teeth on edge) Mom II tells me one day,"I got a surprise for you. I'll bring it over." I thought nothing of it. Then she handed me a plastic bag with something red in it. It was...(cue music here) The students who work in my office are hysterical that I have this in my house. Notice that all the people wearing this get-up are white, very white. And scary, very scary. And if they could wear a Snuggie all day, every day, they sure would. Me, not so much. You see, I cannot do anything when I have this on. I cannot walk in it, I cannot use my hands. The outfits the actors are wearing in this video are not Snuggies. A child the size of the one in the commercial would get lost inside of a Snuggie. I am over 5'9" tall, and if I try to walk in it, it's so long...

Don't we all love "snow days?" I never tire of that feeling when work/school is cancelled. Sleep is never as gratifying as it is when the alarm goes off, you listen to the radio while in bed, find out school is cancelled, roll over and go back to sleep. Isn't that the BEST.SLEEP.EVER? Here in Texas, we don't have snow days, because when it snows, you can blow the stuff off your windshield and drive. We have ice days. Without going into the science of it (i.e., the ground is warm, the air cold, add precipitation, you got ice), I promise you -- it's something to fear and dread. I have been a New Yorker for most of my life. I've braved the elements. The ice in Texas is lots worse than you can imagine. That's because it's "black ice." I don't know why it's called that -- it should be called "clear ice," or "scary ice." Here's why: you see a damp street/pavement and you walk/drive, and everything is copacetic....

I need a stylist. When my daughter moved away ten years ago, my fashion consultant left me. I can't count how many times I asked her, "Do these shoes go?" She often just took me by the hand and picked out the right pair, usually not the 2 choices I was wearing. To her credit, she recently spent a couple of hours with me and my closet, giving me tips on how to combine colors and styles. When she's in town, she'll even accompany me to buy clothes. But when she leaves, that part of my brain that controls fashion sense creeps out. Like check out these shoes I bought: They look okay, don't they? Well, first of all, I wore them for the first time the day that I had to teach for about 5 hours, but to hell with the pain -- I wanted to make a good impression. The problem is, my feet are huge, and I was clunking around in front of the class, looking like God-knows-what. Wait, I can give you an idea: add 80 lbs, and this is what I looked like:

My mom is unintentionally pretty funny. For instance, the last time I visited, she vetoed one of my childhood memories. I was reminiscing with my sister about summer nights in the bedroom we shared. TRUTH: when it was muggy and over 90 degrees at night, our only relief in our 3rd floor bedroom (a converted attic) was this box window fan. Problem was, the fan didn't really work. If there was no breeze to move the fan, all you'd hear was the whirl of the motor while the blades stood still. My sister and I would be spread-eagle on our beds, gasping for air, and I was always the one who got up and pushed a finger through the shield to try to move the blades to "jumpstart" it. Honest to God -- it was like those old propeller planes you see in silent movies. If I pushed it just right, the blades would start turning and I'd hurry back to bed for the 3 minutes of air that I squeezed out of the fan. My mom overheard me talking about this, and she said, "That didn...

Just when I get all starry-eyed, seeing infinite significance in every living thing -- Paul Blart: Mall Co p wins the weekend box office. Oh, Americans, I love your taste for fluff!