bricrow's exception that proves the rule

Yikes.

2006-02-19T21:51:00.000-06:00

Just received the proofs from my son's second-grade class picture. Yikes.

Yes, I've been preoccupied lately, between work and starting up my new non-profit org. But I have noticed that Emmit's been a little moody around the house. Not eating as much, spending a lot of time in his room. Writing out incredibily long lists of who-knows-what in crayon, then burying them in the backyard.

Now I'm starting to wonder his attitude is noticeably different at school, too.

You know how they give parents a list of signs to watch for if you have a troubled child? Where can I find one of those?

Maybe I'll ask Heng Weng to talk to Emmit after dinner tonight. (Also, the Harlem Globetrotters will be in town next week. Maybe I'll take Emmit, as a nice surprise.)

2006-02-14T21:40:00.000-06:00

What's the deal with Dick Cheney? I heard he shot someone.

If this story turns out to be true, it's pretty ridiculous. (What a clown.) He's going to have a lot to answer for.

Send me a link if you can shed some light on this.

I'm making a difference.

2006-02-08T21:49:00.000-06:00

By a vote of 42-4, Chicago's City Council passed an ordinace today banning street musicians and other performers from the busiest stretch of the Magnificent Mile.

Are we protecting tourists from pushy hucksters or alieving sidewalk congestion? Not at all. We're protecting the delicate eardrums of the city's downtown residents -- many of them suburban empty-nesters now flooding back to town to enjoy their golden years. They moved to be where the action is. Now they want the action moved some place else.

Is this a shame? Yes, it is. Because Chicago is one of the few American cities where you can find an actual street culture, and street musicians -- even those adolescents beating sticks on the bottom of buckets -- contribute something special to the urban experience.

(Note: The ordinance also extends to street mimes. WTF?)

So, in a perhaps misguided effort to show the city's street musicians that they still have a friend in at least one resident (me), I am today announcing the launch of the city's first Adopt a Street Musician program.

This is Huang Wen. He plays the violin in front of the Water Tower -- or at least he used to - and as far as I can tell, he's pretty awesome at it. Until Huang Wen gets himself back on his feet, he will be crashing on my couch. Because I am adopting him.

Like most Chinese people of a certain age, Huang Wen carries himself with a quiet dignity, is considerate of others, and appears to be very wise and spiritual. All qualities that I believe will make him the perfect houseguest. I think I have a lot to learn from him.

Would you like to adopt someone, too? Let me know. (It takes a village!)

Should kids be punished for saying the darndest things?

2006-02-07T12:37:00.000-06:00

Like me, you're probably wondering how comfortably "Family Circus" creator Bill Keane is sleeping these days -- now that it's fashionable to react violently to comic strips deemed offensive by a large group of people. (I'm not including a news link. Go check out CNN or something.)

Surely Keane knows that many Americans have been waiting for the the right opportunity to strike back after suffering silently for decades through cartoons like the one you see here.

Of course, I'm not advocating for violence against any cartoonist. I'm only saying that in my darkest moments while reading the Sunday paper, I've felt a tinge of the destructive impulse -- and shattering an embassy window with a bare fist suddenly doesn't seem so unreasable.

Zenirish offers far deeper insight on this subject here.

The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada

2006-02-06T22:58:00.000-06:00

If you're excited by the idea of watching Tommy Lee Jones make this face for a couple hours, don't miss "The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada", now playing at your local art house. Jones also directed this one, and it's just as warm hearted as the title and this photo suggests.

Actually, "Three Burials" is a pretty o.k. modern-day western (read: a western with a helicopter), and it's got a nice dose of black humor, too -- though it may be one burial too long.

Also, it's pretty evident that Jones wants to teach us all a Big Lesson about tolerance and understanding of other cultures. (Well, he definitely wants to teach Barry Pepper a lesson or two. But don't we all?)

As for me, I'm already the most tolerant guy I know. And I already look to Tommy Lee Jones to teach me other important things in life. Bolo-tie etiquette, for example.

When Werner met Joaquin

2006-02-03T09:13:00.000-06:00

In the news: Joaquin Phoenix flipped his car in Los Angeles last weekend and was rescued by cult-director Werner Herzog -- who just happened to be nearby.

Sometime in the near future, when nearly everybody in the world has attained some level of fame, stories like this won't be making headlines. Instead it will be an amazing coincidence when the last two unknowns encounter each other. (Oh, the stories they'll share.)

Also: Without knowing either celebrity personally, I suspect that if their situations were reversed, Phoenix would not perform the same heroic service for Herzog. I'd like to think he would, but I have my doubts. This has been on my mind all morning.

Prodigy?

2006-02-01T21:46:00.000-06:00

I was pretty stunned this afternoon when my six-year-old son came home with this painting he made at school. He said it was a self-portrait. Then he went to his room and slammed the door shut. Not sure what to make of all this. Anyway, this baby is going right up on the fridge.

What I watch when I'm not watching Bush

2006-01-31T20:30:00.000-06:00

I'm not watching Bush tonight. I know what he's going to say. I'm doing other things, like laundry and dishes. Spending a little time on the computer. I'll read about the speech tomorrow in the papers. They'll tell me all I need to know and keep me an informed citizen. I'll get all the details without need to watch his lips move. Because those lips never, ever say the things they aughta.

2006-01-31T00:07:00.000-06:00

Unlike most, I don't have an all-time favorite astronaut. But this guy would certainly rank high on my list. His name escapes me.

My side of the whole affair

2006-01-30T21:23:00.000-06:00

There's been a lot of speculation within my social circles and in the local media about my new television set: Just how big is it? Is it really a flat panel? Is it truly hi-def or merely "hi-def ready"? Everybody's talking.

With this post I'd like to set the record straight. More than anything, I want to dispel some unfortunate rumors before they spread too wildly:

1. No, my new TV is not bigger than my house.

2. No, my new TV is not from the future. It's a 2006 TV.

3. Yes, my new TV is an LCD flat-panel that delivers stunningly detailed images in hi-definition... but, NO, my new TV can't write poetry, shuck corn or sing me to sleep at night.

4. No, my new TV wasn't the result of a divine birth. Angels did not foretell its arrival. I went to the store and bought it.

5. Yes, I paid for my new TV with a credit card. Not with unripened bananas as a few of you have claimed.

6. Yes, I love my new TV. It's a platonic love, more fulfilling than any relationship I've shared with a major home appliance. (For the last time, no, it's NOT a sexual love. I heard your twittering behind my back at the Witkins' cocktail party, Estelle. Thankfully, everyone already knows you're full of crap.)

Here's the best thing about my new TV. I'm convinced it loves me back.

It hasn't said so directly. I don't need it to. Because when I turn off my TV at night, every night, in that last second before my living room goes completely still and I find myself standing in the darkness, I can hear my new TV softly sigh with content: "I'm home."