Lucky Stops Time!

The new hourglass marshmallow charm in Lucky Charms cereal supposedly demonstrates how Lucky the leprechaun now has the power to stop time, in addition to the powers the previous charms gave him, like instantaneous teleportation (the rainbow) or control over gravity (the balloon).

I have to confess I always thought he was just one of the acceptable ethnic stereotypes we're still allowed to use, like his countryman, the Fightin' Irishman of Notre Dame. I never realized he was badder than Chuck Norris, able to bring things to life (using the heart) or turn invisible (blue moons) as well.

Since I was never a Lucky Charms eater, I'm not really tempted to rush out and buy a box to get a gander at the new charm. But if I wanted to, I could. The ability to buy any kind of cereal for any reason, whether it's just to get the cool toy inside, and to do so even when you haven't finished the box you have in the pantry -- well, that's one of the signs of adulthood.

The Lame's Afoot, Watson!

Maybe Guy Ritchie felt jealous of his wife's desire to ruin Casablanca. So now he's been hired to ruin Sherlock Holmes.

"When the impossible has been eliminated, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true," the great detective used to say. I don't think I'm alone in wishing that it was impossible for Mr. Madonna, creator of Swept Away, to be allowed a hand in interpreting Sherlock Holmes for the big screen.

Parker's Resolution

In 2005, Robert B. Parker took a little detour to the Old West in Appaloosa, his first Western with his own characters and story. He'd moseyed through the era with 2001's Gunman's Rhapsody, a retelling of the Wyatt Earp/OK Corral shootout, but this time brought two characters -- lawmen Virgil Cole and Everett Hitch -- out of his own head.

Appaloosa probably seemed like a lark for Parker. His mainstay, the wise-cracking private eye Spenser, recycled his own life history about once a decade (three times, the man's had the same almost break-up with his ladylove, Susan Silverman). His newer series, one featuring Paradise police chief Jesse Stone and the other Boston female P.I. Sunny Randall, started out fresh but had found themselves in the same rut. Jesse's stuck with his unfaithful ex-wife Jenn and Sunny with her ex-husband Richie, and neither one of them can make their relationships work or end them. Even a Jesse/Sunny liasion fizzled, and Parker's most recent Stone novel, Stranger in Paradise, wore its Spenser retreads and inheritance from the Paradise series' goofiest entry (1998's Trouble in Paradise) like dual millstones.

But then Parker moved to one of publishing's most-worn sets: the dusty trails, smoky saloons and blazing high noons of the Western. And Appaloosa crackled with the tension, life and freshness that used to give the top-flight wit of his dialogue and characterizations stories worth their cleverness.

In Resolution, Parker returns to the West and sends us on another ride with Hitch and Cole. Their opening reunion clunks a bit; he may never have intended a sequel to the first book and didn't leave a smooth way to pair them again. But once past that bumpy stretch, Resolution surges forward and sends the two on a trail that doesn't stop for breath or offer a hint of its final destination until just before the end.

Although it really hasn't been that long, it seems like a whole shelf of Parker novels has settled into libraries and dens across the country since he told a story with this much energy. I'm a Parker nut -- I could read that dialogue all day and I'm pretty sure that even when he phones it in he beats out any five major bestsellers in his genre on any given week. But it's a whole lot more fun to get one of those calls when he's got an interesting story to tell. Let Spenser retire to that bouncer job in a retirement home he once predicted for himself and let Jesse and Sunny make the fanboys' day by getting together and making Paradise, Massachusetts safe for miniature bull terriers. I'm all for Bob setting his time machine to the late 19th century and staying there.

Free the Speech, Eh?

Apparently, not every nation descended from the people who thought up the Magna Carta understands the meaning of "freedom of speech."

We should tell them we'll stop watching hockey if they don't shape up...hey, don't laugh. This year, the Stanley Cup Finals ratings were higher than professional wrestling.

Woo Hoo

The move, she is 99.8 percent finished! So now, I have learned in moving from Altus to Newcastle:

1) Moving reaaaaalllllly stinks. Especially when you have a couple of make-up trips to get the things you couldn't quite shoehorn in any of your trucks.

2) Church members who help you load are cool.

3) Church members who help you unload are cool.

4) The H.E. Bailey Turnpike has to be the only road in the free world paved in Braille.

5) Driving a U-Haul truck from west to east in a 30 MPH south wind with gusts up to 50 MPH blows.

6) Heh.

7) Sometime between the years 55 and 122, Tacitus said, "Formerly, we suffered from crimes. Now we suffer from laws." Bet on the bigger numbers as to when he said it, but not too big, as Publius Cornelius Tacitus probably died in about 117.

8) Ronald Reagan said, "Government takes from the needy and gives to the greedy." I learned this from the other side of the billboard that quotes Tacitus. The first known use of this phrase by Reagan actually refers to urban renewal programs in the early 1960s, rather than the whole government. He said it in a speech called "A Time for Choosing," delivered on national television on behalf of Barry Goldwater's presidential bid.

Kvetch, Whine, Grumble

Worst thing about moving is when I've packed up my DVD's and my player and I suddenly get the urge to watch something.

I just read a short essay on Joss Whedon's lamented Firefly, and the writer cruelly quoted some of the pilot's closing dialogue (Simon to Mal: How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep? Mal to Simon: You don’t know me son, so let me explain this to you once. If I ever kill you, you’ll be awake, you’ll be facing me, and you’ll be armed.). So now I want to watch at least the pilot episode again, but everything's packed up, so...

Probably for the best. I've got a lot of packing yet to do.

Massively Stupid Pants

Although Dave Barry would probably tell us that "Massively Stupid Pants" might make a great name for a band, this link actually takes you to some pictures of really stupid-looking jeans.

We can say that we have hope for the world if it turns out nobody buys these things, but how much hope can we have when cold truth tells us that someone has already designed them...