The one salve to a death in the family is the food. After the death of my grandmother, a family friend named Emily LaHood brought over a feast of roast pork, green beans and stewed tomatoes, rice and orzo, salad, and lebanese flat bread. It was heavenly and I ate it for three meals a day. Given Peoria's reputation for being representative of middle America, it might be surprising that an 88 year old Irish widower was eating Lebanese food following the death of his wife. The Lebanese community in Peoria, however, has deep roots.

In Peoria, certain names appear over and over: LaHood, Maloof, Kouri, and sometimes Couri (Joe, by the way, was at the funeral). These families all originally came from the village of Aitou on a mountaintop in Lebanon. Lebanese-Americans have left an indelible mark on Peoria.

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I didn't make it back to Lawrence last weekend because I was attending the funeral of my grandmother. She'd been in the hospital for the past week, so that's why I haven't had much of a presence on Norlos lately.

On a lighter note, my mom accidentally referred to Nora and Carlos as Norlos.

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Do you folks suppose anybody's yet been able to pry him off the Field House ceiling?

The Web site doesn't do it justice, so if you happen to see a print copy of USA Today check out the huge photo of Wayne Simien.

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Those of you who've known me for a while know that Andrew Lloyd Webber is the only person on earth for whom I would cross the street to kick his ass. So naturally I want to know what he enjoys listening, if only to see what sort of raw material he feeds into his dank and festering brain.

Enter the iTunes Music Store, which offers celebrity playlists. This week's lineup includes Sir Andrew, Dale Earnhardt Jr., Joel Schumacher, and Erasure. A-list, baby. Apparently Jm J. Bullock is too busy anchoring the corner square to participate.

I clicked the link a bit nervously. What if his list duplicates mine? Am I a closet Webbernaut? My childhood musical diet of Jim Croce, Gordon Lightfoot, Barbra Streisand and Carole King certainly puts me in that bleak realm of possibility. And sometimes, when I'm trying to find a key while playing single guitar notes, I'll bust out the first few lines of "Memories."

According to iTunes, the simpering little fool loves to listen to:

• "David" by Nellie McKay. "A new, exciting, and real talent to watch," he wheezes. This from the man who unleashed Sarah Brightman upon an unsuspecting world. When he listens to Nellie, he hears something that I can't, and near as I can figure it must be suckitude. (This is on my iPod, too)
• "Señorita" by Justin Timberlake. "A great rhythmic opening track to an amazing album." Does anybody else not get the whole "Justin is God" thing? I didn't like this music the first time I heard it, though because it was done by a bunch of black guys calling themselves New Edition it didn't get nearly as much ink. (Not on this boy's iPod!)
• "Lose Yourself" by Eminem. "Eminem does musicals! Taken from the hit musical film '8 Mile.'" Is Sir Andrew trying to be down wid da kids on da streetz? Hey, Sir Andrew, before you shout out "fo' shizzle my nizzle" to your personal assistant, better look up what it means. (On my iPod. I'm batting .666 and feeling a bit uncomfortable.)
• Vissi d'arte" from Tosca, sung by Maria Callas. I don't know shit about opera, but I listened to a bit of this and it sounds pretty cool. Sir Andrew gets a point. (Not on my iPod, and there's no point putting it on because, even though I'd probably tell people I have Maria Callas on my iPod, I'm probably listen to it just once and then just skip over it when it comes on again.)
• "Jailhouse Rock" by Elvis Presley. "Still hitting the #1 spot in the UK in 2005 -- what more can I say?" Nothing, Sir Andrew. So shut the fuck up. (Not on my iPod, and he should have picked "Little Sister" anyway.)
• "In Dreams" by Roy Orbison. "Simply sublime," he says. I love it too, though I suspect for a vastly different reason. It makes me think of "Blue Velvet" and the scene when Dennis Hopper shouts, "I'll send you a love letter straight from my heart, fucker. Do you know what a love letter is? It's a bullet from a fuckin' gun, fucker. If you receive a love letter from me, you are fucked forever. Do you understand, fuck? I'll send ya straight to Hell, fucker!" Then Dennis takes a hit of nitrus, smears Kyle MacLachlan's face with lipstick, kisses him, and gives his ass a brutal and thorough kicking. Now that's sublime. (On my iPod, and I ain't ashamed to say it.)
• "No Matter What" by Boyzone. "My collaboration with Jim Steinman's huge hit in many countries of the world. Unfortunately record company problems meant that it wasn't a hit here in the U.S." This is Boyzone. This is the song No Matter What. You tell me why it wasn't a hit in the States. (No way no how on my iPod)
• Let's Dance" by David Bowie. "A defining track from an artist at a commercial peak -- produced by Chic's Nile Rodgers." OK, cool song. But note the way Sir Andrew describes Bowie's "commercial peak." I can almost see him licking his wet lips, like someone just put the gravy boat in front of him. (Not on my iPod)
• "Sk8ter Boi" by Avril Lavigne. Believe it or not, I've never actually heard this song before. I kinda like "Complicated." But even if name-dropped GG Allin he'd still have zero punk cred. (Not on my iPod)
• "Love is Strange" by the Everly Brothers. I've never heard this song, either, but the Everly Brothers are interesting and left-field enough to warrant respect. Listen to a strangely compelling MIDI version here.

Conclusion: There's enough decent music here to conclude that when Sir Andrew sucks, it's a solo effort. Maybe his approach to music is the musical equivalent of a 1950s housewife in the kitchen: She takes plain but decent ingredients like bacon, tuna, ketchup and green beans, then whips them together and adds green gelatin for a quivering Jell-O casserole.

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And while we're at it, fuck Jeanne-Claude, too.

The indictment, as filed in court:

• New York can be blessed with some lovely weather. March through October can alternate from mildly chilling to subway-stink swelter. All perfect for a day in Central Park. Except these assholes put up their frickin' Gates in the coldest month of the year. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get Dr. No to leave the house when the temperature's below 60 degrees?
• Saffron. Now everybody in town uses the arty "S" word when they really mean "orange."
• The full name of the installation is "The Gates, Central Park, New York, 1979-2005." While I'll grant them the 2005 part, I've been visiting this city since 1991 and living in it since 2000 and I ain't never noticed no freakin' orange gates 'til now
• If you're going to use only one name, you'd better be able to play a funky guitar riff. Like Prince
• Or parade around in public in conical bras. Like Madonna
• They're going to remove and recycle the installation this weekend. If they were going to stay true to the city, they should leave it up and let it decay, the way people here do with newspapers and plastic shopping bags. Out of towners.

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For some reason, Lawrence is being featured in today's New York Times Travel section. If nothing else, you New Yorkers can point to the article as proof that you're not crazy when you tell people how cheap it is to eat out around here.

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E-mail subject lines of the day:
Grotto Salamanders Desired
Hellbender Symposium
Turtle Embryos Needed
New Rattlesnake Exhibit

The last is not as enticing, but did come with this titillating press release.

The Wildlife Discovery Center at Elawa Farm, located at 1401 Middlefork Drive in Lake Forest, Illinois, 60045, received a generous grant from TAP Pharmaceuticals to build a new rattlesnake exhibit and develop a crotaline conservation education program for middle school students. This new exhibit, called "The Grass Is Rattling" is set to open in the Spring of 2005 and will feature over 25 species of rattlesnakes from North, Central and South America making this one of the country's largest public rattlesnake exhibits. From the dimunitive Pigmy Rattlesnake to the impressively large Neotropical Rattlesnakes, there will be something for everyone. The central theme in this exhibit will be conservation education and the importance of rattlesnakes in the environment. One of the focus animals in this exhibit will be the endangered Eastern Massasauga, Sistrurus catenatus, and, the Timber Rattlesnake, Crotalus horridus, who are both fast disappearing in Illinois. In addition to the live rattlesnake displays, there will be interactive displays including the "rattle box" and much more. Additionally, a curriculum is being written that will allow school groups to come and visit the exhibit to teach them about rattlesnake conservation. One of the unique aspects of this education program will provide opportunities for middle school students to apply technology to the learning experience by using GPS, Radio Telemetry and Pit Tagging devices. They will learn about the many advances taking place and the
current research that is being done with Crotalines. This facility also has an extensive collection of non venomous reptiles and birds (raptors).

There will be a nominal fee for entrance into this new exhibit, however, school programs are free of charge as a result of the generous grant from TAP.

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Watch a guy break all Ten Commandments in one morning. Safe for work, but there's a couple of scenes where at my workplace, if someone were to peer over my shoulder, I'd have some 'splainin' to do.

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Meet Geoffrey Blank. He's an activist. An agitator. A substitute teacher. And he likes to take it to the Man:

"I will no longer bear with you," the judge said in a controlled tone. "I have been bearing with you for four days. Finish your testimony."

At another point, Judge Ferrara rebuked Mr. Blank for "flipping through papers and fumbling and not speaking."

But Mr. Blank, who frequently rummaged in a blue canvas bag stuffed with a legal pad, file folders and various plastic bags, absolutely refused to be rushed.

"I have case law on this," he said. "It's in my bag. By the time I find it I won't be able to finish my speech. It's called ... Oh, I can't remember."

Problems with organization continually dogged Mr. Blank. For example, he was not allowed to call a witness from the audience because he had not gotten her full name.

"What is her last name?" Judge Ferrara asked.

"Her name is Lauren," Mr. Blank replied.

"Lauren what?" the judge asked.

"I don't know her last name," Mr. Blank said.

"Denied," the judge said.

While people like this can be astonishingly annoying, I'm glad they're around.

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The Capital Times, Madison's left-leaning afternoon daily, had this unfortunate headline today:

"Local cop report on Tasers glowing"

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If anybody in the newspaper business ever wonders why young people don't read newspapers anymore, they should take a quick look at the comics section. Mary Worth? Garfield? Hagar the Frickin' Horrible? Life has moved on since the early 1970s, people.

Thank God for the Comics Curmudgeon. He takes on why the physicians on Rex Morgan M.D. seem so stupid, why Cathy will never get married and the dramatic stylings of Garfield owner Jon.

Also worthy of note: Tom the Dancing Bug's Action-Fun-Pak Comix.

Edit: Create Your Own Garfield site, via MetaFilter.

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I'll be in Lawrence for the OSU game on February 27th. It'll be my first time seeing the giant Jayhawk and my parents new basketball seats.

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• It takes me exactly as long to get to work by riding my bicycle as it would if I were to ride the bus from the bus stop in front of my flat.

• The amount of snow required to keep me from riding my bicycle lies somewhere between 2 and 8 inches. Two inches of snow isn't enough keep me off my bicycle, but 8 inches will.
  

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I'm pretty excited about the Charlemagne show on Sunday. One reason why I'm excited is because Charlemagne is a pretty cool band. The second reason that I'm excited is because I'm going there on a date. So, in a minor attempt to be cool, I've had myself (+1) put on the guest list instead of paying the cover at the door. It's a little thank-you from a bartender at the High Noon for helping her out.

A couple of weeks ago, I was coming home on a Friday night around 2:30 AM. Right as I turned the corner onto my street, I see two men arguing and a woman trying to keep them separate. Just as I notice them, one of the men lunges for the other and they start throwing punches at each other. The woman's still trying to break them up and everybody's rolling in a snow drift. One second later, I see a flash of blond hair and think, "shit...that's Heidi (the bartender at the High Noon who also lives across the street from me)."

So, I run up grab the guy on top, who's the one really doing the damage by this point, and yank him off. I'm able to get him off to one side and calm him down. He seemed like a fairly reasonable guy to me because, once I got him out of the fight, his first instinct was to call the police. As he's calling the police and trying to stay out of the fight, the other guy, who turned out to be an ex-boyfriend of Heidi, broke free of Heidi's grasp and came running up to the other guy.

Since I'm a neutral party, I step between Heidi's ex and the other guy. I manage to keep them separated for a minute or so until the ex-boyfriend gets frustrated and throws a punch. The ex-boyfriend was very drunk, so the punch was light and slow, but it still caught me on the cheek. After it happened, I took a few seconds and thought, "Wow...I just got punched in the face...it must be about fifteen years since I've taken a punch to the face." Then I snapped out of my reverie and went back to staying between the two guys.

By that time the cops were on their way and the ex-boyfriend ran off. Heidi was very appreciative that I'd tried helping and said if I ever wanted to see a show at the High Noon (she's a bartender there) that I just had to ask her. So I got that going for me.

The aftermath: the punch, unfortunately, didn't even cause a bruise. On the plus side though, my cheek got cut on my teeth, so I got to spit blood. Other than my cheek being sore for a day or two, though, I didn't really suffer any damage from the punch. I had forgotten, however, about the headache. The police stopped by around 4:00 AM that night. I was all ready for bed, so I ended up talking to the police officer in a pair of droopy long underwear bottoms and a matching top. Becky heard me talking to somebody, so she stuck her head around the corner into the kitchen, saw me in my underwear talking to the officer, and just giggled.

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In 2003, the Bush Administration purposefully withheld accurate cost estimates of its prescription drug plan so that Republicans anxious over the cost would vote to pass the bill.

At the bill's passage, Bush made this comment:

"We inherited a good medicare system. It has worked, but it was becoming old and needed help. Because of the actions of the Congress, because of the actions of members of both political parties, the medicare system will be modern and it will be strong," Bush said.

Now, "new" administration estimates of the cost of the drug plan show the cost of the program to be significantly higher than previously estimated. According to the AP, "President Bush said Wednesday [that] Medicare is next on the government's fix-it list because the health care plan for the elderly and disabled, like Social Security, is facing financial stress with the retirements of baby boomers."

So, the Bush Administration, after withholding accurate information of the true cost of the Medicare prescription drug plan from Congress to ensure its passage, is now using those higher costs that they knew about all along to advocate for Medicare "reform." This strikes me as the most cynical political ploy that I've ever witnessed.

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This came up in conversation over dim sum last weekend. It's hard for me to look at the tumble of images and sensations from my toddlerhood and say one came before the other. But the most substantial memory I have of the time was from an cloudy winter afternoon in Exeter, New Hampshire, where my family lived in a trailer. I remember a knock on the door and two or three girls bundled up, asking my mom if I could come out ice-skating. I remember them looking so adult, though they were probably 10 years old. My mom bundled me up and they took me to the nearby pond, where a girl held me by either hand as my little legs skated along.

What's yours?

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It's the Year of the Rooster.

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While I won't brag about attending a Pink Floyd laser show as a teenager in suburban Georgia, I'm also unapologetic. It was something I felt I needed to do at the time.

After the show, a rangy and very drunk twentysomething was upset that nobody at the show bothered to play any Led Zeppelin. The radio ads promised songs by other 1970s dinosaur rockers, including Zeppelin, and this man apparently felt misled. He leaned over the edge of the balcony and shouted down to the technicians below, "Play Led Zeppelin! Play Led Zeppelin!" He did this for 15 minutes and was still doing it when my buddy and me left. Dude, you could have gone home and played it on a CD.

On the way home from that show, my buddy Allen and I passed a car on the highway that was completely missing its tire. The care was being driven on three tires and a rim. Sparks showered behind and you could see a thin groove dug into the asphalt. You could hear the metallic squeal half a mile behind the car.

Those were the days.

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All y'all need to get tight with the biggest threat to the phone business since e-mail. My username is "MrGuapo." Dr. No's is "njtnyc."

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Since I am currently teaching his concepts(alas, without mentioning his name), I was sad to receive this e-mail about the man who "almost single-handedly made the origin of species diversity the central question of evolutionary biology that it is today."

In Memoriam: Ernst Mayr 1904-2005

Ernst Mayr, a Harvard University evolutionary biologist called "the Darwin of the 20th century," has died, the school said Friday. He was 100. Mayr died peacefully on Thursday, February 3, 2005, near his home in Bedford, Massachusetts. Born in 1904 in Kempten, Germany, Mayr earned a medical degree from the University of Greifswald in 1925. Descended from generations of doctors, he broke off his medical career and turned his attention to zoology, earning a doctorate from the University of Berlin just 16 months later.

His family will convene a private memorial service soon at the assisted-living facility where Ernst had lived for the past several years. A more formal, public memorial will be scheduled for the Harvard campus, probably in April.

Ernst lived a very full and long life (100 years as of last July), but still will be missed by all who knew him and his work. He is survived by two daughters, five grandchildren, and 10 great-grandchildren.

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Tonight on ESPN2, there's a Division III basketball matchup between Beloit College and Grinnell College. This is a matchup you will not want to miss.

Beloit may not be known for their basketball prowess, but they are responsible for the annual freshman mindset list.

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A nanny in Florida was found not guilty of a sex crime after she got naked to apparently satisfy the curiousity of a four year old boy. According to the boy's parents, he has received counseling and is doing fine. No joke.

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From the LJW:

Fellow Texan Angus Quigley also signed with Kansas. Quigley rushed for more than 1,400 yards last season, earning all-district and all-county honors. Quigley's commitment reportedly means Aaron Brown no longer has an offer from KU.

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With the Super Bowl approaching, some people are bound to recount this question posed to Doug Williams in 1988. Thanks to myth-debunking Snopes.com, we know these people will be wrong.

The whole Snopes story is worth reading for history's most excellent Super Bowl question at the end.

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Quin Snyder and the Scream. One can just feel the angst radiating from both figures.

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