NonEssentials

"500 Days of Summer" looked like a cute movie. I've been fond of Joseph Gordon-Levitt since his days as the youngest of that crazy cast from "Third Rock from the Sun." I didn't know much about Zooey Deschanel except that she has a nice voice ("She and Him"). I heard good things about the movie so I decided to see it this weekend. Knowing it was already popular, I made sure to get to the theater a half hour before it started. I waited in line and went to my favorite spot -- the last row, center seat. Nerd alert: I even brought a book (and booklight) to read while waiting for the coming attractions. Sure enough, the theater got crowded, but I had an empty seat on either side of me by the time the movie started. Now, here comes my luck: the woman to my left decided to play theater usher. She noticed a couple looking around for a place to sit. She asked me, "Is anyone sitting on the other side of you?" Was I going to lie? I said no. Then -- ...

Last week I bought a pedometer. Not your ordinary piece of plastic -- a real, state-of-the-art (by my standards) pedometer. Here's the way it works: you set your stride and the time & date, and clip it on. Get this--the pedometer automatically resets at midnight! It also came with SOFTWARE, so you can download your data and track your progress. The pedometer even senses when you do aerobic walking/running and will measure that as well (I have to take that on faith). I was so proud and happy as I made sure to eke out 10,000 steps a day, and I was successful beyond my dreams. For 3 days. Because on Day 4, I lost it. Somewhere in my travels, it fell off my waistband. I'm beyond bummed. But, I am not about to give up. I own a treadmill. I know this because I just have to shift my view about 25 degrees from my TV to see it. It's there and I willfully ignore it. The other day, motivated by my new toy and the incredible last set of the gentlemen's Wimbledon final, I climbe...

Many years ago, young boys with beautiful voices were castrated to preserve the gorgeous timber of their voices. How could society condone that? Music was the priority -- it was all for the glory and the beauty of the music. Michael Jackson was a true, gifted talent, but unfortunately, he was a "castrato." Last night, I caught the very end of Martin Bashir's infamous interview with Jackson. Michael spoke openly about how he wouldn't be upset if his children slept in a grown man's bed. He talked about how beautiful and non-sexual this practice is. He also described how Debbie Rowe allowed him to take the infant Paris from the birthing room before the umbilical cord was removed; before the baby was cleaned up. He said the children were Debbie's "gift" to him. He was naive, needy, uninitiated, unaware of how surreal he sounded. During an Oprah interview, when she asked him whether he was a virgin, he visibly blushed. Michael Jackson was a child. Yet i...

Sarah Palin quit. She just left. It's like if you were a contractor who hired someone to work on the roof of a house and at the halfway point he said, "Hey, find another roofer. I gotta go, but don't call me a quitter, 'cause I'm not." A part of me says, "Don't let the door hit you in the ass." But another part of me says, "You really got the short end of it, Sarah. You were analyzed up, down, sideways and with about 10 different standards." And a big part of that was because she was a woman. Look at Mitt Romney. Don't you think if he were a woman, the press would have worked like mad to figure out what-the-heck kind of name "Mitt" is? Quick: how many kids does John McCain have? I know he has Megan and a kid in Iraq, but other than that, I'm at a loss, and this guy was running for president! So as I watch Keith (Olbermann) and Rachel (Maddow) castigate Palin, I have misgivings. I don't like Sarah as a leader or m...

Ever see a table full of middle aged women at a racetrack? I'm talking women who visit a racetrack once every year or two. Today I was in a party of 6 who spent a day betting on the ponies. It's like a field trip for 5 year-olds. The primary focus is on drinks, then a few more drinks, then food, then the horses. Invariably, there's someone who tries really hard to study all the statistics on the racing sheet, despite hearing comments like, "Oh, here's a horse called "Peggy's Kneecap." I know a woman named Peggy. I think I'll bet on that one." And of course, the horse -- a longshot -- wins. At this racetrack, someone comes around to the dining guests with a handheld machine to take bets. The poor woman who worked in our section eventually made wide detours around our table. Why? Because we'd spend 15 minutes getting information from her about the intricacies of the trifectas and superfectas, then make a $2.40 bet. I couldn't blame...

I have a new toy. It's a GPS system that goes right on my windshield, under my rear view mirror and my toll pass. What a high-tech windshield I have! I don't need this device much, but when I go somewhere unfamiliar, it's better than driving while sneaking glances at my Google map printouts as I navigate strange neighborhoods. So, my first real attempt to let this talking device help me was yesterday. I was going about 30 miles from home to a South Dallas courthouse. I programmed my destination and smiled as the disembodied voice told me to turn out of my development. Once I was on the highway, I knew I had to go quite a distance, so I turned on the radio. Then I heard the voice saying something to me (Was my radio too loud and she couldn't think?) I turned the music off and listened carefully. Turns out, at every intersection of roads, the device would tell me to stay on the road I was on. Problem was, I was told this 1 mile before, then 1/2 a mile before, then whe...

I don't know how I stumbled on this -- Spring Break, free time, etc. It's a long video, but you have to watch it all the way through for the unexpected moments of hilarity.