Heroes? Idol? Hello?

Come on, readers, we need to band together! There is something of great importance, more important than anything else on this blog that must be rectified:

What will our collective summer viewing be?

So far, Val and I have pinned down one surefire hit, "Age of Love," the dating show featuring the 30-year-old tennis pro trying to nail woo either 20-something or 40-something women. That's deliciously catty, in the tradition of For Love or Money and Joe Millionaire. We're in.

Other than that, I'm sticking to Red Sox games, the Game Show Network and HGTV. Fill our schedule, people!

Longer weekend

Sorry I've been out of the blogworld since Friday. My long Memorial Day weekend ended up a little longer than usual, what with my family being here and then my body practically bursting from a stomach bug or e.coli or stepping on a rusty hair clip or something.

You know how with fireworks, one end is lit and it sets off the whole thing? Let's just say that I was a fargin' Roman candle Sunday through Tuesday. You know the phrase, "Coming out both ends?" I know. Gross. Allow me to go on, then ...

No, no, too much information. It's good enough for you to know that I called in sick Sunday and Monday due to a 102-degree fever, slept about 18 hours straight, couldn't lay on my side since every time I did I ended up, you know, doing stuff, and didn't have any food in my entire digestive system by Tuesday. Did you know that when it's empty you can actually feel your intestines contract, looking for food to send down the path? When I'm so delirious that I'm talking to my belly, well, that's normal, but it can't be good.

But hey, the weekend was great, right?! My family came from all parts: Waco, Texas; Miami, Florida; Jeffersonville, Indiana; and Chapel Hill, Tennessee, and gathered here in Memphis Friday through Monday. Hopefully I'll have pictures eventually, mostly from Saturday's excursion to the zoo, a few from our dinner at Nagasaki, none from me almost sleeping in my soup at Olive Garden Sunday morning.

In the meantime, back to work, staying hydrated, enjoying food again, and trying to catch up. What kept me going during this illness? My wonderful doting wife, who wasn't grossed out at all during all that gross stuff, and my crush on the entire 2007 Red Sox lineup.

Oh yeah, yesterday I did brave the movie theater, finally seeing Pirates of the Caribbean: On Until the World Ends. No, wait, At World's End, I mean. Despite all the critics blowharding about how they were confused and didn't like it, we actually enjoyed it. Then again, after the suckfest known as Dead Man's Chest, my expectations were pretty low. The third one isn't as dark, the special effects aren't distracting, I never got tired and wondered how much longer (except when my tummy was rumbly), and we saw more of the first in terms of goofy funny stuff out of nowhere that meant nothing to the plot but pleased nonetheless. So there ya go. I think that's a positive review?

Happy 100th birthday, John Wayne!

100 years ago this Saturday in Winterset, Iowa, the greatest Hollywood hero in history, The Duke, was born with the unlikely name of Marion Morrison.

A giant hulk of a personality with the most recognizable voice, Wayne would come to signify all that was good about the United States on the silver screen, and he never apologized for being an American first, Hollywood actor second. Even as all of his acting brethren turned against his views during the counterculture 60s and 70s, they still awarded him an Oscar for Best Actor with True Grit.

Of course, I was born in 1975 and far too young to remember Wayne as he lived. But sitting with my Dad in front of the boob tube watching John Wayne movies was a highlight of growing up, and one of my favorite things to have caught on from him. (Second only to the Red Sox.) Did I mention my middle name is Wayne? Initials J.W.? Hmmm, suspicious ...

In his honor, here are my Top Five Favorite Movies By The Duke:

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance - One would argue that this is really Jimmy Stewart's Western. I would disagree. This is Wayne's greatest acting, and the film one of his most dramatic and compelling. Same as it comes to Wayne, "This is the west, sir. When the legend becomes fact, print the legend."

El Dorado - Essentially the same movie as Rio Bravo, but I like James Caan's role in this one.

The Quiet Man - Wayne the romantic, he literally sweeps fiery redhead Maureen O'Hara off her feet.

Sands of Iwo Jima - My favorite of his World War II oeuvre.

Big Jake - No one should ever expect The Duke to truly be dead.

Gnashing of teeth

If you go based on tonight's singing, Jordin deserves to win "American Idol." Frankly, though, I could care less. No matter who wins, they have to sing "Generic Inspirational Song" that will be on the radio for a week, or a few days longer than it deserves.

Catching up with last night's "Bachelor" finale, I just can't see how Andy and Tessa's engagement could go wrong. After all, it's not like he told Bevin that he loved her and made out with her all over the U.S. or said that he'd never forget her. Oh wait, that all happened? Yeah, they're doomed.

Laila didn't win "Dancing with the Stars" (Apolo did), making the show slightly less rigged than the NBA Draft Lottery. Speaking of which, the Grizzlies had nearly a 50 percent chance of getting the first or second pick, assuring the franchise success for years with either Greg Oden or Kevin Durant. As Geoff Calkins wrote today in the Commercial Appeal, "If the Grizzlies get the third or fourth pick, they will pretend they are happy with all the wonderful players available to them. And then they will weep." So what happened? Fourth pick, and lots of gnashing of teeth and rendering of garments. The future of professional sports in Memphis is once again tested.

In other news, if you were the type who really enjoyed your nine years of college, now you can spend eternity there. Should this idea catch on with other venues, I'd like my ashes buried at the bottom of Pesky Pole at Fenway. That way, whenever a ball curves around the pole for another Red Sox homer, announcers will always say, "That one had Jeff's blessing!"

Spring finale Monday

WARNING: SPOILERS GALORE

24 - Whole lotta nothin'. Jack didn't save the day, only his nephew. The nuke went off, and the air strike would have destroyed the platform and prevented war without him. Didn't care about Jack and Audrey, so that last 10 minutes meant zilch to me. Josh is the dumbest kid ever. Why didn't he just jump off the boat near shore to give Jack a clear shot at his daddy's henchmen? The Russians would have attacked America for a component that the Americans didn't have, but the Chinese almost did? Didn't a nuclear bomb go off about 20 hours ago? How far has the season veered from the idea of terrorism and turned into a very special Dr. Phil "Family Rescue" show? The short dude with the Barry White fetish from Ally McBeal had better return next season, is all I'm saying. And no Kim again. That would rock.

Heroes - Um, okay, yeah, that was anti-climactic. All those heroes together and no one noticed Sylar crawling into the sewer? And what was the point of Hiro stabbing him if he gets away and stays the bad guy? Why couldn't Nathan take Peter away from town and leave him instead of taking one for the team? Seriously, if Peter was the bomb all along, nothing mattered and someone telling Peter, "Hey, don't go near New York for a while" would have sufficed. Who's the guy Molly is afraid of looking back at her? Sauron?

Dancing With the Stars - *Channeling my inner Bruno: "The final dances tonight were like a pair of mating rhinoceroses that ate a big bowl of chili and had to tiptoe around a family of meerkats while wearing top hats!" I'm not understanding all the Laila love. She's okay, sure, but compared to Apolo and Joey she barely makes it past one cha before they've completed cha-cha-cha! Val swears that the show wants a woman to win, and based on her scores the last few weeks, I'm starting to see a conspiracy, too.

What I've learned from The Price is Right

In honor of Bob Barker leaving The Price is Right after about 304 years of hosting with that tall white microphone, I thought I'd reflect back on all that the show has meant to me from youth to today. With my schedule allowing it, Val and I have gotten much entertainment every weekday morning during our first seven months of marriage watching Bob, his mute models and wacky, frenzied audience.


- Based on the crowd, the only people at home watching TV in the mornings are college kids, the elderly and housewives.

- When you make a shirt specially for the show, leave room for the big honking name tag on your left shoulder. "I (heart) BO" doesn't look as great.

- If you're the fourth and final bidder and want to bid highest, just go one dollar over. For example, if the highest bid is $840, say $841, not $900. If you are the third bidder, don't do that, because the last person will just go one dollar above you (if they're smart - which is definitely not a given). If you're unsure, just say $1.

- If you spin the big wheel first, if you have at least 60 cents, stay. Chances are just as good that the folks behind you won't beat you. Go ahead and give a shout out to friends and family while you spin the wheel, not before. Either way, you're still annoying, and the equivalent of the guy behind home plate with the cell phone who spends the whole doggone game waving at the camera.

- Place the Plinko chip slightly off-center for the $10,000 slot, but be prepared when it takes a sudden last-minute hop to the $0 slot. You might want to get something to the sides first so you don't go home broke.

- If you play the game where you have to find the two halves of the car, the two numbers in the second half are NEVER common, such as 95 or 50. It's always the more obscure 76 or 34.

- Don't take Bob's microphone. Don't tell him you've been watching him since you were little. We ALL have.

- Don't worry, you get two putts now. Use your first to test the break of the turf.

- Before you go, it's good to price cars, dog food and mouthwash. Tweezers are always $9.99, soup is always $1.07. Cars range in price wildly, but if you get something like a Chevy Cobalt it's only about $13,000.

- Life isn't fair. Even though one guy already won a car, he gets the final turn of the big wheel, and if you go against him in the Showcase, he gets to pick which one to bid on, including another car, while sticking you with the crappy bedroom set, swimsuits and cheap hot tub.

- Should you be the lucky one, in the final Showcase, if you're first and there's not a car, camper or boat, pass. You'll get it in the next one. Your chances of winning go down, though.

- I can help control the pet population.

BBQ Festing

Growing up in Memphis, there were two things I never visited even though I took much pride in them as a hometowner: Graceland and the Memphis In May International Barbecue Cooking Contest.

The latter, at least, I get to knock out and get paid for doing so this week as the director of the remote for a nightly half-hour special, "Smoke on the Water."

Did I mention that I've been miserable? Starting Wednesday, the first minute we set foot on Tom Lee Park to set up, I've been sneezing, sniffling and had a headache. I'm allergic to the Mississippi River, apparently. So much for my dream of being a riverboat captain. Oh, and my face looks like a turnip, and I have matching cold sore colonies on each side of my bottom lip. Stupendous.


This view is always in the top five of "Reasons I always knew I'd have a hankering to move back to Memphis."


As the official TV sponsor of the event, we're the only local station to have a compound within the party zone.


Inside the production trailer, my home base.


Down among the 200-plus teams, they get very creative with their booths, especially with Spain as the country being recognized for Memphis In May.


Contestants get ready for the Miss Piggie "talent" competition. To put it into perspective, teams begin rehearsing in January for this, and even longer to set up their booths, spend thousands and thousands of dollars, and if they win anything only get a percentage of that back.


Either the pig is asking for amnesty, or is a traitor to its people.




Thursday night was the Fox 13 client party, good for schmoozing, a band and catered barbecue. (It's kind of expected.)

It's been a good weekend, and I've got one more night tonight to wrap up after the awards are handed out, despite my allergies acting up like a two-year-old in the Backyardigan section of Toys 'R Us.

To be honest, though, if you're not competing and you aren't a friend of someone who is, there's not any reason to come downtown and pay to walk around, with vendors overcharging for BBQ that you can readily get on any street corner in a 50-square mile area.

Idol Traveshamockery

I don't care to watch next week's Idol finale. What a sham. What a travesty. What a mockery of all that is holy about reality TV. I thought Simon would pull out a bazooka and fire it at the audience as a representative for callers for being such blimey morons. He'd be acquitted.

Tidbits

I'm not sure if this is an embarrassing revelation as a Star Wars geek (License No. 3263827), but I have to ask: When is it proper, or why is this so, that in many media, R2-D2 is written as Artoo Detoo, or C-3PO as See-Threepio?

Whenever a stranger tries to relate to me moving from Atlanta, they note that "at least the traffic is better." I disagree. I'd rather be in bumper-to-bumper traffic going 80 in the right lane on an Atlanta interstate deathtrap than falling asleep at the wheel while two cars go 35 mph side-by-side on highway 51 in Millington for ten miles, and it won't matter if you can pass, since there are 100 cars doing the same thing in front, and the idea of putting 007-inspired missiles on my bumper becomes a better idea. The other day I got so excited when a car actually came up on me and passed, and then felt sad as I saw the car had Mississippi tags.

"A study suggests that women who are left-handed have a higher risk of dying." Really? More than 100 percent?

I may be in the minority here, but all those fast food commercials that promise their food is made "fresh" as soon as you order? I don't care. I'm not there for Woflgang Puck-type cuisine. I'm not picky, I'm only paying five bucks for a quick meal, and so long as it's warm I'm good to go.

Did I mention that I found out I have high blood pressure, started eating healthier this weekend, and could desperately go for a cold Krystal right now? Seriously, at Pig-n-Whistle tonight, I stared at my wife's BBQ nachos like her parents' dogs, begging for a scrap of nacho and sauce to fall onto my plate.

Speaking of BBQ, this week is the Memphis In May International Barbecue Cooking Contest, and I'll be out there Wednesday through Saturday for work, directing the remotes. I started eating healthy the week of the best BBQ in the world coming to town. I might have to take a cold shower every night.

The Motion Picture Association of America has decided to weigh the presence of smoking when awarding ratings. Oy. What's next? Bambi gets a PG-13 rating because of the influence of arson? Toy Story is rated R since it promotes the eating of pizza? Georgia Rule ends up NC-17 for "having Jane Fonda in it." ... Wait. That last one might be OK.

Monday night television wrap:

On "Dancing With the Stars," Laila and Maksim are being dragged into the finals by the judges. Their scores were way too high when you compare her skills with Joey and Apolo.

On "24," frankly, I'm disinterested. How's this supposed to matter? The Russians would start a war with us over a circuit board that should have been outdated 20 years ago? Whatever.

Let's go to "The Bachelor," and note that Andy is picking Tessa, he'll propose, she'll say yes, next week we'll discover it's off since she got to watch the show and see him ogle and snog 20 different women with the same feelings he said he has for her.

Finally, the best of them all, "Heroes," which is rocking now that everyone's in New York, Hiro learned swordplay from papa Sulu, and Bennett totally blew Eric Roberts' brains against the wall.

Courtesy Thomas Sowell - "A review of one of the many environmentalist books says that even if you can't do all you would like toward 'living green,' you can at least 'congratulate yourself on taking small steps to improve the planet.' That is what environmentalism -- and much else on the political left's agenda -- is really all about, self congratulation."

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

Happy Mother's Day to my Mom, and to all the mothers, who have both the most difficult and most rewarding gigs on the planet!

Warning: Contents Under Pressure

I'm guessing that it wasn't a good sign when I had my blood pressure checked this week and the little needle spun wildly and the pounding through the stethoscope temporarily deafened the nurse before she strained a muscle jumping so fast to tell the doctor.

What I'm getting at is that Val and I went in for checkups this week, and came away heavily medicated. I have high blood pressure, and in addition was prescribed a few different allergy/asthma medicines. Val has been having migraines, and she has to get an MRI in two weeks.

See? This is why I don't go to the doctor. I was perfectly healthy and feeling fine until I went in and the doctor found all this stuff.

Yeek. All this can be traced back to a year ago. As our love lives turned up, so did my weight. Heard of the freshman 15? Apparently for men the phenomenon is the Newlywed 50. Hello again, Weight Watchers!

This does not bode well for me going to the Memphis In May International Barbecue Cooking Contest next week. Not only am I going there Wednesday through Saturday, I'm getting paid to do so, directing the remote coverage from our Fox 13 tent as the official TV sponsor of the event. Oh dear Lord, grant me the ability to resist all that wicked awesome food!

It's not that it's a terrible burden to take the medications, either. Only, they have so many rules, instructions and potential side effects that it's difficult to figure out how and when and why to take them throughout the day. This one says take with water, the next has to be taken with food, another says that if food or water touches your mouth within six hours of the pill, you might explode. One says you'll be drowsy, another says you'll be drowsier, and the added bonus of dizziness, while t'other warns that you might develop zebra stripes and bray like a donkey, but doggone it, you're lungs will function like a vacuum cleaner.

In other news, Val and I are officially house hunting, though we know it will probably be late summer at the earliest before we even get close to buying our first home.

The worry? Talking to the lender, who surprised me by not laughing at my credit score and demanding I pay her for wasting her time.

Last Sunday afternoon we began that most fun aspect of searching for a home, driving around to find open houses. It's fun, but would be more fun if the realtor wasn't always lurking behind us. We'd be a lot more honest about the saggy fence, or crack in the wall, or in general make more sarcastic comments about the current occupants' taste. Not that it matters; that's one of the annoying things about watching the thirty different shows on four different networks about home selling and buying, when visitors make remarks about furniture or decorations. Those aren't your things! They don't come with the house! Imagine your stuff in that space, don't worry if that bedspread goes with the bed swing!

Alas, we were looking in Bartlett, which appears to be too expensive for our budget, especially when it comes to our desire to buy a relatively newly built home. Fixer-uppers we ain't. I'm like the Bizzaro Bob Villa. Putting together our entertainment center and pantry, I couldn't even screw the doors on right, and the holes are pre-drilled!

To sum up, we aren't spring chickens anymore, and we want a house that is affordable yet new. We're a mixed bag. If wishing was currency, we'd be loaded!

To Vent, Or Not To Vent

Still checking in on the old hometown online for the latest quotable (i.e,. no whiny liberalism) Vents posted in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution:

- Despite the cost of living, it remains popular.

- When closely examined, liberalism is founded upon the delusion that there is no evil in the universe — except for the GOP.

- My wife drives like a snail. One time I chewed her out for it, and she looked in the rear view mirror at the mile long line behind her and said, “I’m just going as fast as the cars behind me.”

- Sometimes when I’m feeling naughty, I pop the microwave popcorn with the wrong side up.

- Are you ladies aware that talking on a cellphone while you’re driving makes your butt look big?

- From a Southerner’s perspective, what the world really needs is a cornbread bagel.

- Regular gas is almost $3 a gallon. I’m glad the Democratic Congress fixed that problem!

- Dear Doctor: Dumping your patients into an examination room and having them wait for 45 minutes does not fool anyone. At least there are magazines in the waiting room.

- What happens during the 19th hour if you’re wearing an 18-hour bra?

- If your dentist’s tools say Craftsman, you might want to go elsewhere.

- It appears the French are smarter than the Democrats. They have elected a pro-American president.

- If a Democrat wins the White House, the president’s limo should have a “Sponsored By CNN” sticker. (Jeff note: I work for Fox now, so I can post this!)

- After 50 years of marriage, I still wear the pants in my family. Of course my wife still tells me which pair to wear.


My Vents:

- Does anyone actually eat the squishy pork part in pork 'n beans cans?

- The problem with Harry Reid's statement that we've lost the war in Iraq is that he has a vested interest in making it happen, lest he look foolish. (Courtesy Jay Nordlinger.)

- It is contemptible that Defeaticrats are calculating the fall of Iraq to the degree in which it will bring victory for them in Ohio and Florida. (Courtesy Mark Steyn.)

- You folks who drive under the speed limit know that you don't get extra points from the cops, don't you? (Stole that one from my father-in-law.)

- House hunting would be more fun if the realtor wasn't always lurking behind us, preventing us from feeling free to be honest about the tacky decor of the current homeowners.

On the telly

American Idol

Judge Judy's in Ryan's house, eh? Fitting. She's the only other person besides Simon who can make a reality show figure cry, beg and yell with a lift of an eyebrow.

The whole night is Bee Gee night? What's next week, Bob Dylan? The question, therefore, is who can hit the dog-ear-only decibels of those high notes.

Melinda - Still should win, best pipes, but tonight just usual Doolittle adorable magic. Which apparently comes from staying positive at all costs. She even changed a verse of "How Do You Mend A Broken Heart" to keep from saying the word "loser." I tried that once. Apparently when you try to stay positive in a golf tournament by writing a 4 even though you bogeyed a par four, this is "against the rules."

Blake - Last week he dyed his hair black. This week he adds a skunk streak of white to the front. Looking to take the mantle of Hair Contestant from Sanjaya? The guy is a freak show. All that beatboxing, he wouldn't get a vote from Hasselhoff on America's Got Talent. All that "uh-uhing," he sounds like that goat in the new AFLAC commercials. For a good five weeks, he sang "normally." But Dr. Jekyll has given way to Mr. Hyde again, as seen by his strange sweater that was patterned on one side and solid white on the other. Pick a persona, Blake, and stick with it!

LaKisha - PG-13 warning! Her boobs are back! Don't look directly at them! Egad, she looks like she's advertising on late night for 1-900-CHUB-LUV. As for entertainment value, "Staying Alive," she's not. This is bad karaoke at best. She might do better with "Paradise by the Dashboard Light."

Jordin - Her problem? She can't dress herself in anything flattering. She looks like she's preparing the feast on Fiji, in those big mumu things the Pacific Islanders wear. Which distracts from the fact that she was the best performer Tuesday night. Absolutely recovered from The Bon Jovi Debacle, as it will be known in Idol history books.

24

Now the Chinese are easily invading CTU and holding the best agents in the country hostage? Way to secure those sewers, guys. Not like y'all haven't been attacked about, oh, once a season or anything. General Hospital had a hostage situation earlier this year that was better done, and more dramatic. I'm not admitting that I watched any of it over my wife's shoulder, and if you suggest it I'll post a comment on your blog accusing you of kicking puppies.

Heroes

So who's going to blow up New York? Will anyone? Best show on TV, but I'm kind of getting impatient. Unite all of our heroes and let's figure this out already!

Dancing With The Stars

America, our long national nightmare is over! Billy Ray and his Achy-Break groin thrusts is over! Don't see how Joey ended up in the bottom two this week, however. Keep an eye on that next week.

The Bachelor

Never watched before, but as I have a feeling I'll be saying this a lot from here on out, surprisingly fun to watch with my wife. Strange beefcake guy, whiny bimbos, and Val finds it just as funny when I make fun of the women in tears as they drive away unpicked and crying, "I can't believe how fast I fell for him!" after one half-date and five minutes in a hot tub full of 15 women, what's not to enjoy?

Rocket who?

Roger Clemens has been dead to me for several years already, so I don't know why my first instinct is to throw something heavy at the TV whenever he's on, especially Sunday when ESPN was wall-to-wall with his announcement that he's returning to the dang Yanks.

If you didn't know before, I think we're all in agreement that he's a hired gun out for money, right? All that crap about being close to family in Houston, wanting to win rings was no more true than the women on The Bachelor telling Andy that they're in it for "the right reasons" other than furthering their actress careers.

One of the positives, from The Sports Guy: "There's finally a villain on the 2007 Yankees. Just like the good old days. I was tired of talking myself into despising A-Rod and Posada."

Substitute Jeter for A-Rod and I'm in agreement. A-Fraud is still just that, and I have no problem making him my enemy.

Truthfully, last month's series were highly satisfying with the Sox winning five-of-six, but there wasn't anything burning underneath to make the series much different than a slate against Seattle. Now we have focus. Now we have fire. Now we have a reason to truly high-five every win against the Evil Empire. Bring it on!


p.s. My favorite line from The Sports Guy: "We're coming closer and closer to my dream of Clemens' Hall of Fame plaque featuring a cap with a dollar sign on it. I feel as if that's a genuine possibility at this point."

Friday night light reading

- I'm loving this Red Sox season. Thursday night, they recover from a 5-0 deficit in the first inning to win 8-7, and tonight they win a gritty pitcher's duel, 2-0. Meanwhile, the dang Yanks are at the bottom of the AL East and Steinbrenner's so desperate to find fault that he fired the strength coach. Next, he'll fire the janitor for not emptying his wastebasket, and "I don't care if I only had a Ho-Ho wrapper in there!"

- My next invention: A taco shell that is the same height in the middle as the sides, assuring equal distribution of ingredients, easier bites, and preventing the shell from breaking up and/or ending up with a last bite of nothing but meat and shell, as all the lettuce, tomatoes and cheese ended up spilling onto your plate.

- Big bro Scott pointed me to the new DVD release of the classic poor man's Goonies: The Monster Squad. That's wicked awesome! Coupled with the new Major League DVD, my summer movie-watching is complete! I'm not even kidding when I say that I'd rather revisit The Monster Squad tonight than see the new Spider-Man. Sad for me, or the filmmakers?

- Some phone companies are adding a new line item to monthly bills: a charge for not making long-distance calls. What else will you pay besides Verizon's $2 fee for the dumbest excuse ever to take your money? How about $6 for not calling 411, $5 for not using three-way calling, $3.25 for not ordering pizza, and $1.50 for not making prank calls asking people if their "fridge is still running."

- University of Arkansas law professor Ned Snow says forwarding a private e-mail without the sender's permission
violates common law rights. If you forward this to ten of your friends within an hour, you will get a wish granted.

Idol down to Final Four

A quickie, since I have to wake up in four hours to go to work:

Phil was the most likable guy in the competition, but never caught on with the girls who loved Blake's bad boy side and Chris' wannabe-Timberlake image.

I thought Chris would last one more week and LaKisha would head home, but I'm not entirely surprised he's leaving. His talent wasn't final three worthy.

Bon Jovi took a dump on stage tonight. The entire performance, you could feel that the audience was waiting for him to break out into something resembling rock.

Next week, LaKisha goes home and we get the final three everyone's been waiting for: Jordin, Melinda and Blake.

Pandering

Commercial Appeal columnist Otis Sanford this weekend sounded a common refrain from liberals since the war in Iraq began, that our troops are helpless little children crying in their parents arms with no education and no choice but to serve mean old Cheney and his Bush puppet.

As he watched from nearby in the airport as three soldiers said goodbye to their families, surely headed to the middle east, he mused sympathetically, "I just watched from afar, immersed in their distress and moved by their tears, knowing I was powerless to provide any comfort. And I wondered who's to blame for this sadness?" Do you think Sanford would lay out a laundry list of people to "blame" when he watched soldiers shipped off to Europe or the Pacific in 1942?

Sanford and left-wingers of his ilk have changed the meaning of "I support the troops." They don't mean that they want the troops to do their jobs and win. No, they have decided that our soldiers are a protected class, not adults who volunteered to be a part of the most well-trained, well-armed and strongest military on the planet. He should be proud that those three soldiers are representing us, fighting the good fight in our stead, and need support and encouraging words, not a head tilt full of empty pity.

I'm tired of watching "24," so I'll defer my comments to a selection from Lileks' more entertaining evaluation:

"There may be a leak at CTU. In related news, water has been observed flowing downhill. "

"Audrey is diagnosed as a Type 3 Catatonic, a condition occasionally suffered by viewers of this season."

"SecDef Heller’s all better. My money has him as the President next season. He leaves with a nice eff-you to Jack and forbids him from seeing his daughter ever again. The season’s transition to “The Days of Our Lives” with geosynchronous satellites is now complete."

As usual, "Heroes" is actually worth talking about, especially since I watched with trepidation about why we should care about a show about a future we'll never see, but it turns out this future is imperative to how Hiro can be a hero. Or something like that. Either way, Peter snogging Niki was icky, Matt's a weasel, Mohinder's a moron, Claire still can't make a decision on her own and Sylar's a maniacal genius. Oh, and I can't wait to see Peter and Sylar throw down in a battle of unbeatable superheroes. That had better happen, right?