Word From The Wise

New column out today.

Wedding Bashers?

One thing I miss about working in the WLKY newsroom in Louisville is the seemingly daily discussions of one spirited topic or another. There was always a debate and as you can imagine, I was always right.

But nearly four months into the new gig here in New York, we finally had our first good discussion involving opposing viewpoints. Mine, of course, was the right one.

A gal from the office, a friendly and fair sweetheart of a young lady, very well-mannered and polished, brought up for the second straight day her disappointment with a wedding only she was invited to, not she "and guest." It was actually quite a surprise to see her so bothered by something.

My take here is textbook etiquette -- if you're in a serious relationship, engaged or married, you bring your significant other. And that option will be made available when you receive the invite, addressed to "Jane Doe and guest," rather than just "Jane Doe."

But if you're merely an acquaintance of the bride and/or groom, either they know you well enough to know you don't meet that criteria, or they don't know you well enough -- perhaps you're a co-worker -- in which case they don't owe you a two-person invitation.

My co-worker says if you're watching the budget so closely that you can't just send out a bunch of two-person invites, perhaps you should be planning a different type of reception at a different type of facility. She thinks the comfort of the guests should be a top priority. But I think the guests should feel honored to be sharing in such a special day that they should be thankful to be on the invite list to begin with regardless of whether you're with a date.

Co-worker's bottom line: The guests should be allowed to choose whether to bring a date so they can fully enjoy such a special event. The bride and groom should be more considerate.

My bottom line: The day belongs to the bride and groom, not the guests. If the new couple needs to be selective about the invite list for budgetary concerns, they should do whatever they need to make sure they can enjoy their big day.

I just wanted to put this debate up for discussion, not to criticize the co-worker's viewpoint, so let me hear your thoughts.

Just Give Me The Damn Noose

Building on fellow NFL diva Keyshawn Johnson's 1997 book "Just Give Me The Damn Ball," I'd like to nominate a title for what I'm sure will be a Terrell Owens biography out in the next 18 months.

Owens, the unlikable bitch-boy and part-time star receiver, now on his third NFL team in the last three years, tried to kill himself in Dallas Tuesday night. Or so many of us thought.

I'll never criticize anyone who struggles to maintain his mental health. For some people it's more difficult than others, and I myself haven't been above a few bouts with depression in recent years.

But this T.O. thing was fishy right from the start and until old dude Barry raised a logical point in a telephone call Wednesday night. He quoted a well-known sports-talk radio host whose basic point was that "if T.O. really did try to kill himself, the hospital wouldn't have released him so quickly."

I think that makes a lot of sense, but I still can't get over all those who wanted to weigh in with their poor takes, like Deion Sanders and even that former NFL sideline bimbo Lisa Guerrero.

T.O., who admitted to paramedics upon their arrival that he tried to harm himself, later cleared that up by saying he was "groggy" from the mix of painkillers and supplements. I hope Merriam was paying attention, because it seems we have a new defninition for groggy.

And can't you just wait to get home from the pharmacist, after picking up a brand new prescription, so you can put all the pills "in a drawer" somewhere but later be caught with the empty bottle near you as your grogginess takes over. That's how T.O. explained the absence of pills as his publicist, Kim Etheredge (what was she doing at his house?), tried to fish two out of his mouth as they awaited help's arrival.

And it was Etheredge who offered up perhaps the best (meaning weakest, of course) take at a news conference Wednesday afternoon in Dallas. "T.O. has 25 million reasons to live," referring to the $25 million contract Dallas gave him in the offseason. I completely forgot; rich people never try to kill themselves.

So while I do believe T.O. in his claim that he didn't try to kill himself, the story just sounds like swiss cheese. I can't help but recall an old friend's take that T.O. has some serious mental health issues, clearly evidenced by his bursting into tears when he made quite a memorable touchdown catch that sealed a San Francisco playoff victory over Green Bay five or six years ago. Remember that?

T.O. -- Suicide or Accidental Overdose?

Word From The Wise -- Special Edition

Unlike last year when I was able to post to Word From The Wise in a more-frequent blog style, this year's version is more structured. My new superiors want me to publish only on Friday, so after watching Craig James and Doug Flutie's post-game remarks regarding Ohio State's 28-6 defeat of Penn State Saturday, I couldn't help but have this reaction, all brought to you in a special extra bonus format for you on a Sunday:

I know it's part of our nature to root for the underdog and find chinks in the armor of our top-ranked teams. I didn't argue when many said OSU was an unconvincing preseason No. 1, even after its season-opening victory over Northern Illinois and right up until kickoff at Texas on the second weekend. But the Buckeyes dismantled the Longhorns and have since won by decisive margins the last two weeks. Many were hopeful to rank OSU No. 1 and Notre Dame 1A, until the Irish were blown away at home last week by Michigan. And did you see them call on another divine miracle last night at Michigan State?

So after Saturday's late 14-6 OSU lead turned into a 28-6 final score with a pair of interceptions returned for touchdowns, the best that James and Flutie could come up with was skepticism about OSU's offense, that maybe it wasn't as dominant as people thought it would be, as if to blame Jim Tressel and his troops. And that was the end of the analysis.

What Flutie and James should have mentioned was this:

Ohio State has officially overcome the loss of nine defensive starters, all of whom were on NFL rosters when the season began two weeks ago. Everyone and their brother and uncle and stepson makes mention of the nine lost starters from a year ago at the top of each broadcast, during every game and in the midweek analysis. By now, it's tremendously tiresome. But thanks to ABC newcomer Paul Maguire, who referenced the nine a few times yesterday ... FOUR WEEKS INTO THE SEASON, I think we know now the Buckeyes had some defensive holes to fill. And guess what? They've filled them, so quit talking about it.

The defense held Penn State to two field goals, and save for a Malcolm Jenkins roughing call on the last play of the half Saturday, it would have been one.

Remember when Tressel won games by scores like 16-12 and 13-9 in 2002? Those were near blowouts by his standards, as he played an offensive style that revolved around ball control and field position. His offense didn't boast two Heisman Trophy candidates like it does this year, but those Bucks in 2002 won the national championship. So in addition to a defense that is now officially outstanding, probably equal to the defense of 2002 as well as last year's, Tressel now has an explosive offense that simply seemed quiet yesterday because the game was played on a wet track and Penn State offered a decent defensive showing as well.

Ohio State is the best team in the country, and not because Notre Dame lost eight days ago. It's because the Bucks' defense is typical Tressel, the offense has numerous weapons and a mammoth o-line and the kicking game is getting better. This is the end of the story.

Saturday Update

Lots of Jews out today.

I'm just saying.

Boston Pee Party?

I don't know what came first –- my sometimes skeptical, cynical nature or my interest in becoming a journalist, but I know that they do (gulp, bad cliché coming) go hand in hand. One often breeds the other.

I am indeed a skeptic, particularly when it comes to our children's heroes -- those who bash home runs and throw for 300 yards and beat the buzzer with game-winning three-pointers.

So after Boston Red Sox lovable slugger David Ortiz hit homers No. 51 and 52 last night, there was a press conference that felt a little like a celebration of the feat, judging by what I've read so far this morning.

"This (record) is something that might change people's minds," he said. "I know there are some guys who have been caught using illegal things, but people should know that not everyone is like that."

I'm actually not skeptical here. I believe Ortiz is all natural and his power is legitimate. Which is why he should do what Sammy Sosa said he'd do but never did several years ago, which was take an impromptu drug test.

Sports Illustrated columnist Rick Reilly blind-sided Sosa in the Cubs' dugout before a game several seasons ago, urging him to go in the clubhouse and whiz in a cup right then and there. Sosa skipped the offer, and Reilly drew mixed reviews for his tactics. But at some point somebody had to do something. Major League Baseball certainly wasn't and really still isn't keeping a close eye on things. So leave it to the sportswriters. Then badmouth them for putting the slugger on the spot, the hot-weather hero whose productivity sharply declined after MLB implemented just a soft testing upgrade. And guess who's no longer playing baseball anymore?

But now, the teddy bear in Boston has become so popular around the league for reasons well beyond his talent. Which is why he needs to submit right now to an MLB- or even a Reilly-administered test. He needs to overlook what Sosa interpreted as an attempted violation of privacy, an effort to undermine his personal dignity, blah blah blah. If you're clean, then just do it. The negative test result won't do much for your supporters; they already love you. But it could restore a little bit of faith in the league and the idea that a star can hit 50 homers without steroids. Such faith has been lacking for quite a while.

Word From The Wise

New column out today.

Louisville Hugger

I wouldn't call myself a frequent flyer, but I've flown twice in the last month, including one trip with a layover on both ends, so that means I've tried to board a plane six times in the last four weeks.

And each time has been shitty.

I won't bore you with the details of getting out of LaGuardia on Friday, but I will tell you about the two hours I spent at the bar next to the gate from which my delayed flight would eventually leave last Friday:

Ohio State Guy

When I first got to the Northwest Airlines terminal, I saw a dude about my age sporting an Ohio State T-shirt. And after about two hours of dealing with Sally at the NWA desk, then a U.S. Airways clerk, then Sally again, then Delta, then Sally a third freaking time, then finally Delta, I made my way to the terminal, found a nearby bar where I figured I'd grab a sandwich and a beer, and sat down next to the same OSU guy.

He turned out to be a good dude, and told me about a gathering he arranged years ago on college football Saturdays. The plan is to hit Blondie's on the Upper West Side to watch OSU-Penn State this Saturday.

Very Cincinnati

I don't think I told you, but the plan was to get to Louisville Friday night, but the above NWA-USAir-Delta fiasco made me so desperate that I urged Sally just to get me to Cincinnati, where I'd rent a car and drive the final 100 miles.

Anyway, I'm a little buzzed at this point, waiting to board the plane, when I heard a gal my age bark into her cell phone that her girlfriend was going to drive up from Louisville to pick her up in Cincinnati.

I made some sort of eye contact and mixed in a jaw drop, and she picked up right away that I needed a ride. She offered one and said it would be OK. Problem solved.

Until we got to Cincinnati, of course.

I caught up with the gal when we got off the plane, or, disembarked, of course, and we started a friendly chat. Five minutes later, we're at the baggage claim and she's talking to her girlfriend, who's pulling up to the airport. The girl asks her friend if it's cool if they give some stranger a ride, and the friend wasn't nearly as flexible as her New York visitor. Next thing I know, my fellow passenger gave me a simple and unsympathetic "We can't do it. See ya later," and pranced off before I could say "return to seatback to its upright position."

Oh, and apologies to Tim Bracken. He's an old Cincinnati friend of mine, and I passed him on the way to the baggage claim, and couldn't do a stop-and-chat because I thought I had a driver waiting.

Anyway, that was a very Cincinnati thing to happen to me -- girls flaking out and all. You've heard my rants on the Queen City before. But I can't blame it for this one. New York and Louisville must be held accountable. They will pay. Oh yes; they will pay.

So I rented a car and rolled down to Louisville, where I caught up with The Baton. Was good to see her for the first time in three weeks.

Game Day

Saturday was the reason why I was visiting Louisville. UofL football fans had been waiting for this date for two years, wanting revenge for a narrow loss at national powerhouse Miami in 2004.

I woke up on my friend Pat's basement couch to the sweet sounds of chirping birds on a serene, suburban side street on a sunny Saturday morning. Had to fit in all that alliteration because I don't know when the last time was that that happened, and I don't know when it will happen again.

But such a serene setting told me immediately that I was in for a good day.

I caught up with The Baton and her parents at their hotel, trekked with them over to the stadium parking lot and met up with some other friends for a little tailgate action. The Baton, having spent each autumn Saturday the last 10 years or so twirling with the band, was excited to partake in her first football tailgate party. Needless to say, she bounced around from old friend to old friend, enjoying the whole day.

The game turned out not to be as good as people expected. For Louisville fans, the result was perfect, a 31-7 blowout of the visiting team, but as far as the quality of the game went, it certainly was lacking. Miami isn't what it used to be. Either way, I had a great view, down on the sideline with my photographer's credential. I got a fairly mean sunburn. It's now Thursday, and I'm still peeling more than a Scooby Doo prop editor.

Party Time

A few weeks ago, I'd sent out an a-mail, trying to arrange an outing with some old friends on this night. Many were unavailable, but still plenty came out. The Baton's friends were out as well. It was a pretty good time at Felt, at downtown Louisville's 4th Street Live area.

Boring Sunday Recap

I'd planned to pick up a few things at Kroger and Target that I can't get cheaply in New York: granola, toothpaste, batteries, etc. Of course, I packed the toothpaste in my carryon bag and when I went through security, I had them confiscated. Damn terrorists.

As usual, my first flight was delayed. And then once I got to Detroit, my connecting flight was late as well. At least that fact allowed me time to enjoy my first Quizno's sandwich in many months. Remember Quizno's? (Turn your volume up)

So I got into LaGuardia shortly before midnight, and by the time I got in bed it was about 1 a.m., four hours before I needed to wake up.

But I didn't hear the alarm, so instead of getting to work at 6 a.m., I got there at nearly 8. That sucked, but it was worth it. I do miss Louisville, and it was good to get back.

Studio 60

I don't watch a whole lot of prime-time drama or sitcom, but I just saw one of the best blocks of television I've watched in a while. The first 18 minutes of "Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip" started with Judd Hirsch's impromptu monologue critical of the never-ending battle between suits and art. It ended with a battle between, um, suits and art, and guess what? There were firings. The suits won.

Sure there was drama and conflict, but more importantly, the writing obviously was done by someone with real industry experience (Aaron Sorkin, Sports Night -- another TV show about a TV show), unlike one of those syrupy Hollywood writers on the early "ER" shows with a medical consultant looking over his shoulder.

The second block followed nicely with Chandler, er, Matthew Perry, not stepping too far from his sometimes-funny "Friends" character. Flanked by the brilliant Bradley Whitford, the pair should pull off splendidly their task of taking over "Studio 60" for a desperate Amanda Peet.

So far art imitates life, and with Sorkin at the controls and a superior cast below, look for "Studio 60" to add Monday to the calendar of NBC's must-see lineup.

Miscellaneous Rant

Check back later tonight for a recap of my weekend in Louisville. But for now, it's time to once again critique the television business that feeds me.

Ohio friends Dave and John like to rant about redundacies in the language, particularly by those who are paid to know and speak it well, like TV reporters and anchors. They really like "arson fire", "ATM machine" and "VIN number."

Dave wrote in to tell me that over the weekend, he saw news reports about ER rooms and police canine dog units. Splendid.

And as I was crafting what was meant to be a brief and hopefully entertaining retort -- on my boss' watch, of course -- I found myself still typing 15 minutes later. So here it is: Three things I love about the morning pregame shows on the second Sunday of every NFL season.

1) Is there a quarterback controversy brewing in (name of any city that's home to an 0-1 NFL team)?
2) Is Raider Nation ready to give up all hope on the 2006 season?
3) Are the Browns already calling it a must-win game in Week 2?

First of all, most controversies in the history of man are creations of the media. Calling it the sensational media nowadays is akin, Dave, to saying ER room, ARM mortgage or anything of that ilk, because it is implicit and therefore redundant. But the controversies are more prevalent in sports, where the Stuart Scotts and Linda Cohns love to create something out of nothing. Controversy? If a coach makes a change, it's not the same as a controversy. And the coach hasn't even made the quarterback change just yet, so why did you send your reporter to Denver or Green Bay or wherever to do a two-minute package on it? Oh, I know, because that tired NFL pregame show is two hours long and Kenny Mayne can only fill so much time in his otherwise excellent Mayne Event piece each week.

I think I do how you can fill the time: Why not hire some former NFL players to step off the set and prance over over to a mini-football field where they can relive their glory days with a slo-mo walk through of a route that Randy Moss might run later today in a game where he'll finish with four catches for 52 yards. That's valuable insight. Don't forget to take off your burnt orange suit coat, Michael Irvin. Gots to be comfortable!

Word From The Wise

New column out today.

Tracking Jerry

I really don't take any pleasure delivering this news. For the most part.

When I was an all-star valet parking attendant back in the day, there was once a wealthy man who came into the restaurant frequently and typically took decent care of the valet staff. One particular night, however, as I was anxious to get out of work and presumably head up to the bar near my house, restaurant management volunteered me to drive my Honda Civic and take this rich man home because he'd had too much to drink. Way too much to drink.

I'll never criticize a man for drinking to the point of delightful elevation. I'm more likely to pat him on the back. But Jerry Carroll, owner of race tracks and nice cars, couldn't even direct me to his home once we got off the highway because he was so twisted that night. And once we did find his sprawling compound, behind trees and even a small creek bridge if memory recalls, he hopped right out without even saying thank you, let alone dropping a sawbuck in my hand.

So when a Primpin' contributor passed along the link to the story of Carroll's arrest, I thought I'd post it, because it's news you need to know.

Texas Toast: Bucks 24, Longhorns 7

There's an old eastern tradition that suggests if you make tentative plans for three years to attend the Ohio State-Texas game in Austin, Texas, but end up not going, it's important to instead stay home alone, watch the game, drink beer by yourself and keep a running update about it on your blog. Enjoy:

(I took this picture of OSU coach Jim Tressel talking to ESPN's Lisa Salters moments after the game. And no, it wasn't the first time I'd taken a picture of my television.)

7:30 -- Woke up from an unplanned nap, went to the store and bought 12 Budweisers.

7:56 -- Didn't feel like I had enough energy to whole-heartedly support my Buckeyes, so I took my first shower since Friday morning. It was a cold one and I feel like I'm ready to drink and cheer and swear at the TV. All by myself.

8:14 -- Kickoff

8:15 -- Cracked open my first beer

8:16 -- Cheered loudly -- by myself -- as Troy Smith connected with Ted Ginn for 46 yards on the second play of the game.

8:20 -- Good buddy John Boel called from Louisville to see if I was drunk. He sounded disappointed when I told him I'd just opened my first beer. Then I swore at the TV when OSU missed a 28-yard field goal. I'm sure I'll talk to Boel again before this game is over.

8:25 -- After Texas' first possession ended harmlessly, ABC showed a few quick OSU highlights as it bumped out to a commercial. One was of Troy Smith scrambling toward a touchdown in a game at Indiana last year, a game that I shot from the OSU sideline. I actually saw myself in the three-second highlight, and the reason I know it was me is that I was the only jackass draped head to toe in a yellow rainsuit in Bloomington that day.

8:44 -- When I shot that game at IU last year, I noticed that young OSU defensive back Malcolm Jenkins was the world's biggest trash-talker. So when Texas' Limas Sweed drew an interference call on Jenkins near the goal line and was talking shit to Jenkins, he had nothing to say back because he knew he'd been burned. Sweed had a right to start something, though I don't know if that pass was catchable.

8:46 -- As I was typing the entry above, OSU recovered a fumble at the 2-yard line and returned it to midfield to not only evade an early deficit but also possibly set up its own offensive opportunity with the field cut in half. Mack Brown is a moron for challenging this fumble call.

8:48 -- Just saw ABC's bottom-line ticker and learned that the Detroit Shock just won another WNBA Championship. That's awesome.

8:49 -- Could Anthony Gonzalez (Cleveland St. Ignatius High School) possibly have better hands? He just doesn't miss.

8:51 -- Beer No. 2.

8:53 -- Speedy Gonzalez strikes again. He ran a tight route, burned his man and put himself in position to receive what had to have been a perfect strike from Smith, who nailed his target in the front corner of the end zone for the game's first touchdown.

8:56 -- Boel calls back to ask about Gonzalez, who I saw play a couple times in high school when he played for coach Chuck Kyle. Gonzalez would be a No. 1 receiver at a lot of other schools; he just happens to be playing opposite Ginn.



9:12 -- Called my old dude Barry (pictured, right) out in San Francisco. He's also watching and drinking alone. We're a couple of winners. I prefer Bud in bottles. Barry likes it in the can, if you know what I'm saying.

"First of all, Texas Stadium is gay," was one of his opening lines. Anyway, his analagy was right on; "Gonzalez is to OSU what T.J. Houshmanzadeh is to the Bengals." Both are great No. 2 wideouts.

Then Barry wanted to talk about Texas QB Colt McCoy, whose offseason heroics helped save the life of a man having a heart attack or something. The story of McCoy and his father swimming across a lake to help the man has gotten a lot of run this week.

"And his dad's name is Brad," Barry said. "What a faggot. His name should be Truck or something."

9:27 -- Personal foul? That was an awful call. Football is a contact sport. At least it is in Ohio, you pansy-ass Texans.

9:29 -- Of course, the bad call gave Texas new downs and the Longhorns get a touchdown to tie the game, when it should be 7-3. Merry Christmas, assholes. And not long after ABC showed Brad McCoy kiss his wife in the stands, Barry called back.

"Yah, did you get to kiss your wife, Braaaaaad?"

9:37 -- Beer No. 3.

9:39 -- "AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!" is about what it sounded like in my apartment when Smith found Ginn for a 29-yard touchdown pass.

9:42 -- Talked to the Baton. She's kickin' it at grad school in Richmond, a little stressed out. I'll see her next week in Louisville.

9:45 -- brokedickdog, a frequent contributor to this blog who's been AWOL for about a month, sends a weak text message.

9:50 -- Talked to old dude Dave, an OSU med school grad now living in Chicago. He had some friends over, Iowa and Illinois grads. Nice games they played today, btw. Anyway, Dave's a good dude and it's a shame I wasn't able to kick it with him for this weekend. He seemed to agree with my take that if OSU scores more points than Texas, than the Bucks should be able to win this game. He and I have always been on the same page like that, not unlike E.T. and Elliott.

10:01 -- Barry and I talked again but as usual, nothing noteworthy was covered.

10:09 -- Something very noteworthy takes place when OSU's James Laurinaitis returns an interception deep into Texas territory. The Bucks get a field goal a couple minutes later to go up, 17-7.

10:18 -- Beer No. 4.

10:19 -- BUUUURRRRRRPPPPPPPP!!!!!

10:35 -- OSU has about six or seven penalties so far in this game, including one that was quite questionable that led to a Texas touchdown, and the Longhorns just incurred its first with 1:53 left in the third quarter. Do you expect me to believe Texas had played flag-free football for nearly 45 minutes? That's called home cookin', but the host has still only scored seven points. And OSU's big concern in the preseason was its defense that had to replace nine starters, most of whom will be on NFL rosters on tomorrow's opening day. When you take a step back and really think about it, has Tressel ever had a bad defense?

10:38 -- That Jon Lovitz is flirting with a spot on the Celebrity Death Plane. Those Subway commercials where he says, "Eat fresh," with the emphasis on "fresh," are extremely annoying.

10:40 -- Beer No. 5

10:41 -- Brent Musberger, who I normally love when he calls OSU games on ABC, is definitely losing his mind. He was talking about all the former players and celebs on both teams' sidelines, and referenced Heisman Trophy winner Eddie George, then former OSU star Cris Carter. "George and Carter were together for a long time," Musberger said. That's not even close to accurate. They played at OSU in different decades and never were NFL teammates. Jackass.

10:42 -- Speaking of celebs ... an old friend and former colleague is in charge of distributing media credentials at the University of Texas. I inquired six or eight weeks ago about a sideline photographer's credential, as I represent a respected international media outlet. He pawned me off to an underling in his office, who directed me to a Web site to fill out a formal application. I got an automated reply that told me I didn't qualify for a photographer's credential. I realize that space is limited in such a big game, but then I just saw Matthew McConaughey on the sideline. Boy, that would have been inconvenient had I gotten in his way. I'm sure he was hard at it as he represented the working media.

10:48 -- Just opened a brand new bag of chips.

10:53 -- Just as I was going to call out Mack Brown for that third upper lip, Barry called to make one simple announcement: "Herpes." The conversation didn't last very long after that. I told him I'd noticed it too. ABC showed a tight shot on him reacting to yet another penalty on OSU left tackle Alex Boone. He's the program's next Orlando Pace in that he's gigantic and talented and athletic for his size, but he seems to be struggling under the pressure of a high-profile game.

11:08 -- Called my dude John Drees to celebrate a little early. His take is that what we'll hear a lot of from the experts is that OSU and Texas could meet again, and Colt McCoy will have a full season under his belt, so the Horns should be more dangerous in January.

You know who will also be dangerous in January? An Ohio State defense with a full season under its belt. The same defense that experts have been so nervous about, having to replace nine starters and so forth. That young, inexperienced defense held Texas, a team that had scored 40+ points in 12 straight games, to only seven points. Start making plans to buy tickets for the Ohio State-Notre Dame game in the BCS national championship game in Arizona in January. And keep in mind that OSU has played bowl games in Arizona three of the last four Januarys, and has won them all. Troy Smith is simply awesome in big games. Keep that in mind when the Bucks go to Iowa in a few weeks, and again when they put their 11-0 record on the line in Columbus on Nov. 18 against Michigan.

11:19 -- Beer No. 6ix.

Word From The Wise

New column out today.

Let's Talk About People

You know that old expression -- if you don't have anything nice to say, make sure it's somehow directed at Tom Cruise? Well, yeah, it's about time he board the Celebrity Death Plane, but until then, can we talk for a second about that annoying baby of his?

Is that thing real? Look at it! NOW! It's a toy. She's not even five months old, and she has almost as much hair on her head as my friend Barry has on his back.

And the face looks a little, shall we say, computer-generated? And something's up with that Katie Holmes. She seemed the All-American girl back in her Dawson's days, but now she sounds like a robot who's been brainwashed tag-team style by the Scientology empire and Tom Cruise Incorporated. "She's the miracle of our life," Holmes told the Associated Press about Suri. Could the word "miracle" be used any more to describe a baby? C'mon, Team Crazy, give us more than miracle. Cruise starred in Vanilla Sky in 2002, but with the occasional exception of an unmedicated appearance on Oprah, you two are living a Vanilla Life. Spice it up or please enjoy complimentary first-class seating -- now even roomier! -- on the Celebrity Plane Crash.

Steve Irwin

Well, what else can be said about the Crocodile Hunter that hasn't been said about Lawrence Taylor? Irwin was indeed crazy, though his high seemed a natural one. Homeboy loved the animals and it was neither surprising nor inappropriate that he died among them, but it is a little unpredictable to be shot in the heart with the barb of a stingray. I doubt he saw that coming. I didn't watch him a whole lot, but I don't doubt his contributions, and I know that Australia has lost a cherished son.

Rosie O'Donnell

She started on "The View" this week, and after some exhaustive research by the Primpin' Ain't Easy editorial team over the last 48 hours, it turns out that nobody likes her. It's true; I talked to everybody, and they all hate her. I never understand why some people are as popular as they are, and this poor man's Ellen might be at the top of the list.

Justin Timberlake

If he's bringing sexy back, then what do you call what I did in 2003?

Katie Couric

The opinions seem mostly positive, but there's no lack of nitpicky criticism. I'm a little biased because of those great legs. Just kidding.

And I was talking about mine, not hers.

Seriously, though, some aren't crazy about her inaugural effort Tuesday because it seemed like CBS was trying to launch new whistles and bells about its Evening News, but I ask why not? You've got the most anticipated debut perhaps in the history of television news. If you're in third place behind NBC and ABC (and the early guess here is that Charlie won't hang onto second very long at ABC), roll out your new vision when you've got the eyeballs. Tell your viewers you're here for them, that you're going to give them what they want, which for some will be a more customizable product and maybe for others, better interactivity. Did you see the way CBSNews.com was pimped? Kudos to the collaborators, and two more thumbs up for the courage to open the new Free Speech segment with a personality like Spurlock. I almost thought on a night that was supposed to be all Katie, it was merely kinda Katie. I'll keep watching.

Earning My Stripes?

Once again, I've gotten some unsatisfactory results from my laundress/dry cleaner.

Most of the time, I pack a lunch and get my clothes ready for the next work day on the night before. But lately I've been slacking, so when I tried to grab the blue dress shirt out of the plastic dry cleaning bag this morning, I noticed there were several spots on it that weren't there before I took it in last week. And as usual, it was about three minutes until I needed to be at work, and I still had to get on the bus.

So I grabbed a pink, black and white striped shirt (unironed, of course) and threw that on quickly and was out the door.

It wasn't until the elevator had me dropping down past the fourth floor that I realized I had a striped shirt on with pinstriped black pants. Separately, the pants and the shirt are both quality garments, because, as you know, that is indeed how I roll.

But worn together, perhaps not so much. Nonetheless, I made it to work without any weird looks, and with Fashion Week right around the corner here in the big city, I can only hope this style photographer isn't lurking in my neighborhood when I go home from work today.

Nonetheless, a co-worker who I think is quite stylish heard my lament and gave me the full-frontal once-over, then insisted that I'm pulling off stripes over stripes fine. Personally, I think she just wanted an excuse to check out my package. Don't you agree?

Word From The Wise

I've resurrected my college football blog, called Word From The Wise. It will publish every Friday, and includes a quick look at the weekend's top five games, and then some other stuff.

Here's this week's installment.

Mail Bag

So in the hour it took me to leave work, get on the train, get stared at by someone who was selling something I wasn't buying and walk home, I received two -- count em, two -- notes to my work e-mail address with one correction and one strong objection. The first correspondent calls herself Mom, and the second is old dude Steve from Cincinnati. Note No. 1, in its full, unedited text:

Hi Sweetie....just caught up with your most recent blogs and read that it is rather funny that I misspelled my name for my email..actually that is not correct.....the computer tech. consultant I had here actually made the mistake and I never corrected him! I do have to admit that it makes for a funny story. Which brings to mind some great laughs I have enjoyed over the yearswhen I think of you....when you applied for your temp. driver's license and brought it for me to see....you liked the name Jonathon better than John (at that particular time) and (you) went ahead and called yourself Johnathon P. Wise....also, your response regarding Frank Sinatra made me laugh just as much. You one funny guy! Keep up the funny writing...why don't you write something about Russian River wines..heeheehee! more later..luv.m.

And from Steve:

You need to fix this!

Whenever I post I get this message...

Your comment has been saved and will be visible after blog owner approval.

Being locked out sucks

Steve "the rhyme animal" Slazyk

First, apologies to my mother. I called her out in a note earlier this week, which you can read below. But as far as Steve's note goes, I can't just let any old poster drop some notes on here. This is a family blog, except for the notes about sex, defacation, alcohol abuse and most of the other content on these pages.

Mile-High Milestone

When I started this blog some months back, I had two milestones left to reach in life. I'd already achieved all that one can achieve in a prosperous valet parking career, I'd gotten two child-fists in the groin as I was dressed up as Who-Dey, the Cincinnati Bengals mascot, and I was drawn on and carried outside on a mattress a few times after passing out in college, only to wake up to the sounds of footprints of joggers, paperboys and used sorority girls.

But early 2006, I vowed to make sweet love at 30,000 feet in an airplane and write 100 blog entries, and now, there remains only one milestone left on my to-do list.

I'm sure the suspense is killing you, so I'll just let you know that Perv-arazzi below was my 100th blog entry. I can't say that I was surprised to reach the century mark before the mile-high club, but one must do the best with what he has before him. Congratulatory wishes are now being accepted.

Perv-arazzi

Miss Puerto Rico lays flowers at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Poland in this photo taken by an Associated Press photographer on Friday. One of the photographer's less subtle colleagues, probably shooting for Cotygodniowe Czasy, or some other weekly rag in Warsaw, is in the background, smoothly taking a picture of the lovely woman's ass.