Shine, the weather's fine

In the past two days, I've received emails and texts from East Coast friends, hoping to make sure I was OK. Well-meaning relatives have called to express their concern. My sister asked if I was thinking about moving back home. A colleague offered to cancel our lunch meeting yesterday so I wouldn't be put out by having to walk outside.

No, I'm not sick.

It is - as you might have heard on national newscasts - raining in Los Angeles.


"When the rain comes, they run and hide their heads"

In all seriousness, there are going to be real problems caused by the rain - mudslides and erosion and stuff like that - and there have been tornado warnings within a hundred miles of where I'm sitting. And apparently it hailed for a minute yesterday. But you would think that it's armageddon, the way the natives are reacting to this weather. (Also, you would think that more people would understand that hooded cotton sweatshirts don't really protect you from getting wet, even when the hood is in the upright position.)

But for the most part, it's rain.

So I just want to assure those of you west of San Bernardino that, yes, I am OK. Although if you want to send hot chocolate, feel free.

Kidding

I don't have children, but I think it's fair to say that I've learned a thing or two about kids over the years.

For example: It can be really really hard to just look at one of 'em and know whether or not you're staring at a terrorist.

I'm not the only one who's having this problem. There's the Transportation Safety Administration - better known as the government agency responsible for not letting me travel with salsa or pomade for my hair* - which apparently is finding it difficult to grasp that an 8-year-old Cub Scout from New Jersey doesn't need to be molested by security officers every time he gets on a plane. (Thanks to Highland Park Attorney, once again, for the news item.)

Mikey's mom gets the award for best quote of the article. "It’s quite clear that he is 8 years old, and while he may have terroristic tendencies at home, he does not have those on a plane." Touche, terror-mom. Touche.

You might laugh about this, but clearly, it's not as easy as it sounds, separating the pre-teens who terrorize their parents from those who might actually pose serious threats to our lives, liberties and pursuits of happiness.**

Like, for example, this seemingly cute and innocent Irish lass.



* The pomade is for my hair; the salsa just tastes good on chips.
** I guess the Founding Fathers had it right: Sounds weird with plurals.

Putting lipstick on a Fox

It simply cannot be a coincidence that I became aware of these two news headlines today, and that I learned of them in the same sequence in which I'm presenting them to you.

First, from MSNBC.com (courtesy of the world's most wonderful wife):
Sarah Palin gets deal as Fox commentator*

And then, from the news site I love to hate, CNN.com:
Too much TV may mean earlier death

Anyone else thinking we have the cause and effect here?

* The article's subhead is, purportedly, a quote from Palin: "It's wonderful to be a part of a place that so values fair and balanced news." Yes, I get that she cleverly incorporated the network's mantra. But when does Fox give up that joke? I'm going to go work at Coca-Cola and tell people that it's wonderful to be a part of place that never sells any kind of liquid that contains sugar, chemicals and bubbles.

Endorsement burger

It's not that I actually care that St. John, the women's clothing brand - er, excuse me, luxury knitwear brand - dropped Angelina Jolie as its lead endorser. Truly, I don't. But I did think I'd be able to get a blog post out of it. And, so, I have.

The brilliance is just a click away, on World's Best Burger. (Warning: Unveils my possibly half-baked Tiger-Angelina Endorsement-ending Tryst Theory.)

Weather forecast courtesy of that sensei from Karate Kid

Once in a while during the months of October, November, December, January, February and March - and occasionally April - I like to check in on the weather conditions in my former hometown of Chicago and gloat a little bit. (It's possible that I've blogged about this once before, like, say here.)

This probably makes me a terrible person, but being able to gloat about weather is one of the perks of living in Southern California, and I'm someone who likes to take advantage of the perks afforded to me.

I've been hearing about snow and arctic temperatures in the Midwest, so I thought today would be a good day to visit the Chicago Sun-Times website. I was not disappointed - and mostly because it seems that the two-word weather summary on the site's home page was written by the sensei from Karate Kid. (Did you know? The character's name was John Kreese! Thanks, imdb!)

Before I get to the forecast itself, please refresh your memory by reliving this relevant Karate Kid dialogue:

That's Martin Kove, left, as the immortal John Kreese.

Kreese: What do we study here?
Highly pumped up dojo students: The way of the fist, sir!

Kreese: And what is that way?
Students: Strike first, strike hard, no mercy!

Kreese: I can't hear you.
Students: Strike first, strike hard, no mercy!

Which brings me to the Chicagoland forecast synopsis that appeared on the Sun-Times banner this morning:

Grill burger

As I wrote in my very first blog post - two years and two days ago - a major reason that I started SFTC was that I was constantly posting comments on World's Best Burger, a blog authored by the witty and creative duo of Loree and Laura. So fervent was my commenting that I started to feel like a moderately deranged fan/stalker, and I was pretty sure that if I didn't just get my own damn blog, they were going to banish me from theirs forever.

So you can imagine my great joy when - after letting WBB lie dormant for most of 2009 - L&L announced plans to revive WBB. And then it got better. They invited me to be a WBB contributor! It was like being a kid who grew up watching the Orioles (which I did) and getting an invitation to play catch with Cal Ripken (which I haven't). In other words: Big time.

So I hope you'll go check out my very first post on World's Best Burger, the blog that got me into this whole blogging mess in the first place. It'll be worth your while - I'm offering up tips for saving big bucks on a propane grill.

The price of ice

Whenever my mom is considering a new car, she couldn't care less about whether it has four-wheel drive or traction control or ABS brakes - or, I'd guess, whether it has brakes of any kind. She doesn't care if the engine has four cylinders or six; or whether it comes with dual temperature zones or keyless remote entry.

Pretty much all she wants to know is that whatever car she drives is going to have a button on the air-conditioning panel that lets her see what the outside temperature is.

Which seemed pretty strange to me until last week.

Last week, the world's most fantastic wife and I became homeowners, and aside from the packing*, moving** and unpacking***, we couldn't be more thrilled. It's a great place - an upgrade in almost every way from the apartment we had rented for the past 18 months.

But what I had forgotten about our new apartment until we started unpacking our 694 boxes of kitchen stuff was that the previous owners left behind - for free**** - a refrigerator/freezer with one of those automatic water-and-ice dispensers. And not only that, but you can select ice cubes (more like crescents, actually) or crushed ice! Oh, and if you're getting water - or ice! - at night, the thing lights up, so you can be confident that the water you're dispensing goes right where it's intended. Amazing!

I've never had one of those things before - not growing up and not in any of the other apartments where I've lived. So when we walked in last week and I saw that snazzy thing on the front of our new freezer door? Well, that was the moment I knew: Despite the L.A. price we just paid for the place, it was totally worth it.

Now, if I can just find a contraption to tell me what the temperature outside the apartment is....

* Hated it.
** Really hated it.
*** Impossible to describe how much I hate it.
**** Yes, I'm kidding about the "free" thing.