Wow... it's been a while since I've done some real blogging (my exhaustive review of Narnia notwithstanding). I've just been trying to survive, man. It's been a rough month, but the three of you who read this blog probably know what's going on in my life anyway, so there's no need to rehash it all (no matter how witty and entertaining that rehashing would be). So let's get on with some Friday thoughts!
- I blame Kris for getting me hooked on Law and Order: Criminal Intent. True, its stories are absurd to the point that it makes recent seasons of the original Law and Order look like brutal realism. And many episodes end with all the main characters gathered together for a big "Clue"-style accusathon.
There's one main reason it's good TV, and his name is Vincent D'Onofrio. His portrayal of an eccentric, brilliant homicide detective is so exaggerated that even my grandmother imitates his trademark lean-and-head tilt at the very mention of the show's title. He's a lot of fun to watch, and in a world made bleak with the absence of Lennie Briscoe's wisecracks and Adam Schiff's fedora-and-lightswitch one-two combo, that lean-tilt is a ray of light.
- It's official - I've sold a kidney, and I can now go to the first Giants home playoff game in five years! Now, seeing as how there's a good chance the team will choose seats at random during the game and have the lucky winners come down and play linebacker, I have a bad gut feeling about the outcome (what else is new?). But Kris is coming, as is Man-Chris, and we're going to meet Spector and Lady Spector there, so it should be fun. It feels like the football equivalent of seeing your team make it to the NCAA tourney, only it's much rarer (at least, if your team is Penn); and relatively speaking, the Giants actually have a chance to win (again, if your team is Penn).
My only gripe is that it looks to be a mild 43 degrees Fahrenheit on Sunday; this is my first NFL playoff game, and I want epic cold, dammit.
- For a multitude of reasons, is there any surprise in seeing Jerry Rice thrive on Dancing with the Stars? The main one being that Rice made his fortune in the West Coast offense, which is predicated on timing, rhythm, footwork and precision.
I'm just surprised at how relatively little being the greatest wide receiver in NFL history means in the world of celebrity. He's one of history's top athletes, and apparently in the hierarchy of reality TV that puts you on par with George Hamilton and the guy who played Jay Peterman on Seinfeld (though to be fair, I guess anybody who chooses to go on reality TV is by default on par with George Hamilton and Jay Peterman).