In which Aimee Mann doesn't hate my suggestion

I read today on Facebook - rapidly, and sadly, becoming my go-to source for Important News of the World - that Tom Petty has a bone to pick with Michele Bachmann.

It seems that yesterday in Iowa, as Bachmann closed the kickoff speech for her soon-to-be-failed presidential bid, her staff played Petty's 1977 song "American Girl." Makes sense, what with her nationality and gender being properly reflected right there in the title. Of course, this didn't go over too well with Mr. Petty, whose political tastes run a little more toward the mentally capable. (Here's the L.A. Times recap of the incident.)

So I wondered: What would be a better - and somewhat more recent - pop song that would just as accurately summarize Ms. Bachmann's campaign and carry an equal measure of musical credibility? Two and a half seconds later, I had it.

Or, actually, Aimee Mann had it, in a song from her 1995 album, I'm With Stupid:

Thanks to lightdarkens in the UK for letting me link to your YouTube video.

I thought this was a pretty good idea. So I thought I'd tweet the idea and see if Ms. Mann - of whom I've long been a fan - would see it.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, my BlackBerry buzzed. The highlight of my week, for sure.

Aimee Mann had responded:

(Thanks, Aimee!)

Now, how do I get the Bachmann campaign on board?

My kind of town

What a weekend. What a city.

Several great meals, including a magnificent dinner at one of the best restaurants anywhere followed by an unexpected bonus: a tour of the kitchen (including a quick hello and thank-you to the executive chef) provided by an unbelievably gracious waiter. A lot of walking and public-transportation-riding. (Kinda forgotten how to do that in L.A.) A solo late-night photo expedition. A completely-worth-it 90-minute wait to get into the one-and-only Hot Doug's. A picture-perfect day for Cubs baseball at Wrigley Field, which, as my wife pointed out, "smells amazing." Reunions with a couple of very special friends. First encounters with, seemingly, dozens of new high-rises that have sprung up since I left just a few years ago, including the stunning Aqua (bottom photo). And, a return to the exact spot where my wife and I first met, five years ago. 

Going to have to get back for another visit soon. If I'm lucky, I'll get a few more sights like these:

Deep thought of the month, Number 1*

"Saying something and then repeating it won't necessarily make what you said any more profound. But it will make it rhyme."
- Me

I'm still working on the phrasing, but I wanted to memorialize it here. Because, you know, it's pretty profound. And I'm not sure it would fit on one of my hilarious T-shirts. Which are now available for purchase. In an array of colors and sizes.

* Likely to be Number 1 of 1. But who's keeping track?

Phood foto phun

If you were the editor who wrote captions for the photos accompanying the Los Angeles Times' restaurant reviews, wouldn't you try to learn the visual differences between - just for example - a stuffed chicken on the one hand and pierogies on a bed of sauteed cabbage on the other?

No. Apparently, you would not.


Unless Jidori is Hebrew for "cleverly disguised to look like pierogies," I think this description is a bit off.

One other quick thought: Are those of us in L.A. and New York getting to the point where a restaurant having a "Top Chef" alum on staff is sort of like having a basketball team with a "tall dude"?*

* I think we are.

A sharp mind

It seems highly unlikely, but maybe my migraines are being caused by something like this.

I hope not, though, because the doctors who were unable to properly diagnose that dude's problem four years ago deserve to have the title of Stupidest Doctors on the Face of the Planet all to themselves.

Why I'm waiting until (at least) tomorrow for those tattoos and piercings

I'm just about an hour away from my first-ever visit to the inside of an MRI.

I understand that metal objects and recently inked tattoos don't really get along very well with MRI machines, so I'm thankful that I recently made the decision to not get my nose pierced, and that I managed to go another year without a tattoo. (I had been thinking about getting one that replicated the design of the snazziest t-shirt I've ever designed, which you can find here.)

Anyway, I'm going in to get my brain scanned, which makes me think that tomorrow, I'll be quoting Dizzy Dean a lot. In 1934, the pitcher, then with the St. Louis Cardinals, was hit in the head by a baseball while trying to break up a double play, and suffered a concussion. After his trip to the hospital, he reportedly said, "They x-rayed my head and found nothing."

I've Got Reservations*

My aunt and uncle are coming to L.A. next month. The other day, to ensure that I was aware of every possible detail I might need to know about their travel plans as well as some I might not - and, possibly, to give me some kind of guilt trip for not having an apartment with a second bedroom - my aunt forwarded the hotel's reservation confirmation email.

I wasn't sure what she intended for me to do with the information. (Make a note of the last four digits of her credit card number, maybe?) But I decided I'd use it as an opportunity to write back and reinforce the notion that I am Very Excited about her visit.

To that end, I sent a one-word response: "Awesome!"

I thought that would probably be the end of the conversation. I was mistaken.

A few minutes later, a reply arrived. "Hardly," it read. "A much overused word, I'm afraid!"**

There was only one thing to write back: "Is 'Whatever' overused?"



* Post title inspired by this Wilco song.
** Capitalization corrected to improve readability.