R.E.M. Splits, The World Goes, "Huh?"

The only surprising thing about R.E.M.'s split is that I thought they did it about 10 years ago.

I loved R.E.M.'s early stuff: Reckoning, Murmer and Document. I even liked Green, the CD that gained them a modest level of mainstream popularity. But in my humble and musically-uninformed opinion, fame must have been too much to handle for Michael Stipe and company, because to me, they immediately got weird(er). They sort of lost me at Automatic for the People. And, like two star-crossed lovers, we grew apart. I grew away from the hygienically challenged Athens music scene, and R.E.M. just grew, well, just stranger.

Back to the split. R.E.M. hasn't exactly been on the radar in recent years. Does their break-up deserve the publicity it's received? Really. I've got the attention span of a crack-addled squirrel when it comes to pop culture, but when I haven't heard a new release in the last few years, you're dead to me. Same thing happened with the Sopranos. Two years between season premiers and I've lost the thread and I've lost interest.

But the real question is: When is R.E.M. going to pull an Eagles stunt, a la Hell Freezes Over tour? Because the only reason groups seem to break up (especially those who haven't even been producing anything as a group) is to reunite. After they said they wouldn't. Because after your talent and prolificacy wane, a little drama and intrigue go a long way toward bolstering flagging sales.

Language Evolution

A few years ago, I was on the phone with a friend and when I wanted to wrap up the call, I said, "Well...I'll letchya go." She replied, "Have I been held captive all this time?"

Nothing snide was meant by it, just an observation of how we all phrase things. But I've tried really hard never to use that phrase again.

At about the same time, our newsroom's proofreader, a very proper man without whom the writers would all be in big trouble, said that he couldn't stand it when service workers replied,"No problem" to his "Thank you." Probably one of us less evolved in the room had said it to him. His argument was, although he put it much more eloquently at the time, if you're a service worker, then, no: It shouldn't be a problem to serve.

I was impressed by that. Didn't agree or disagree, and have never been especially offended by that phrase myself, but I've tried really hard never to use it again.

A few weeks ago, I was watching a movie in which a human resources drone flew all over the country to meet face-to-face while she fired scores of people. The reaction of the folks on the receiving end of the ax hit brutally true to life, spanning the range of those not-so-good human emotions. But what struck me was the language she used.

She sat through these horrible meetings as stony as an Easter Island monolith, and like an automaton, said, "I want you to open the packet I've placed before you." "I need you to think of this as an opportunity..."

I kept thinking to myself, why aren't these people throwing the packet at her?
"Really? You're firing me...and you want me to open the packet? Really? I want you to insert the packet someplace dark and snug."

What a sense of ... I don't know. Arrogance, entitlement and overblown authority don't really seem to cover it for me.

Unless you're that dreaded mean teacher keeping law and order in an unruly third grade classroom, there are so many better ways of conveying those messages. How about, "I'd like you to open the packet I've prepared for you"? How about, "Please think of this as an opportunity..."

I've begun listening more closely to how people phrase things to catch an underlying message, and it's interesting. No one generation or gender seem to own this imperious communication style. I think it's our language and our culture evolving, and that's pretty telling.

Believe me, whether it seems like it or not, I'm a lot more careful about what I write than how I say things. So I know I'm guilty of barking orders or brusquely giving directives, or even monosyllabic answers, no niceties. But I'd like to think that I can become more mindful of the tone I use and the words I choose when I speak.

As my mother used to say when we wanted something, "We'll see."
I'm still trying to interpret that one.
Are there any turns of phrase that caught your ear and maybe stuck in your craw lately?

Two great reads

In the past couple of months I've read two similar books, both about newspaper publishing, and both with similar themes and outcomes. You won't need to have hatched out of a newsroom to enjoy both, either.

One, Tabloid City, is by veteran newspaper man Pete Hamill. Hamill doesn't disappoint readers - his usual heart-warming story-telling is on game, and his well-developed characters are ones you invest yourself in throughout the story. Tabloid City: A Novel

The other, The Imperfectionists is by newcomer Tom Rauchman. Rauchman has worked for the Associated Press as a correspondent stationed in Rome. Compared to Hamill, however, he's a newcomer both as a journalist and a novelist. But you'd never know it. His story is every bit as enthralling as Hamill's. I wonder how such a young man could produce such a sophisticated story. It better not be his last. The Imperfectionists: A Novel (Random House Reader's Circle)

In each story, characters came to life for me; I was able to identify with each like never before: these were people I definitely knew: the solitary copy writer with enviable talent of creating headlines where I would just stare at a white screen, all while making page design look effortless; the affectations of a  adrenaline junkie foreign correspondent/stringer who is hell bent on showing how worldly he is while draining the life and resources from everyone around him; the corrections editor/copy editor who is always right. Don't even bother arguing. And you're thankful for him, believe me. The cub reporter who is really so talented you wonder why he chose journalism; the obit writer who just wants to do his job and get out of there unscathed; and the editor-in-chief who is has lead an interesting life, travelled extensively, is tough but fair, remote but kind and witty. He really is the lifeblood of the newsroom.

These characters inhabit each book with such dead-on accuracy and life that I'm already planning to happily reread both to visit them again. They're people I know.

Threaded through each novel is the newspaper itself. Hamill and Rauchman both write about their newspapers as endearing, living, breathing things. Their humble beginnings, their humming energy and their hardships make them characters in their own right.

Both authors portray the changing world of news well. Hamill in particular inserts what have to be his own views of the industry's evolution throughout his many years as a journalist. Rauchman captures a journalist's constant struggle with the job of gathering and writing the news against the business of running a newspaper.

Readers are invested enough in each story to feel for the papers as they meet their predictable but emotional fates.

Have any of you read either novel? What did you think?

Cheap Diversionary Tactics

I usually catch the last minutes of the local news and the first few minutes of the Today Show each morning before I'm out the door. So at 7:05 a.m. (8/2/11), I left hoping that NBC and Today went on to report a little more in-depth coverage of the vote than what I saw.

What I saw was a house full of self-important, self-congratulating buffoons patting themselves on the back for a job well done. The lead story - on Today, at any rate - was U.S. Rep. Gabby Giffords' "surprise" appearance to cast her vote. Am I being too cynical, or does that smack of diversionary tactics to pull the viewing public away from the real meat of the story? That is, as we are all painfully aware: our national debt and our economic prospects for the next couple of years. What's going to be hacked out of the budget? How much will taxes increase anyway? And who's going to lose (as if we needed an answer to that)?

I'm not really disputing Gabby Giffords' heroics here. To get up every day and make the progress she has in the face of the extensive injuries she suffered is heroic enough. However, whether this was her idea or it was all planned by some Capitol Hill PR genius, it was a pathetic and disgusting gesture on the government's part, and it was picked up big time by the media: Bring out the invalid to melt America's heart. Maybe it'll forget that the government owes them infinitely more than cheap theatrics for their tax dollars.

They can start making it up to us by finally earning the money we pay them. Because if you think the debt crisis - the economic outlook overall - has been averted, then read this:
http://news.yahoo.com/debt-deal-set-pass-were-costs-045917154.html

One of the points of the article that I found so disturbing, yet not surprising, is that once again, we've been held hostage by Washington parasites. The article points out that because of this "very public and intense squabble in D.C., already-anemic economic growth will be weaker, the unemployment crisis will worsen, income and wealth inequality will deteriorate further and, ironically, the fiscal dynamics will be more challenging," said Mohamed El-Erian, co-chief investment officer of the international bond fund giant Pacific Investment Management Co., or PIMCO.

Another point, made by a Chinese news agency, is that when the donkey and elephant fight, the whole world feels their dispute and suffers. Whether this global suffering continues is almost immaterial compared to the fact that the U.S. - thanks once again to this "squabble" - loses more of its credibility and leadership globally.

Thanks, Washington. I knew things would get worse before they got better, but I didn't think you'd have such a heavy hand in it.

Say it ain't so

Despite the news, I guess I've been in denial. On one hand, I couldn't dispute the recent headlines, but on the other hand, I was hoping against hope that something would happen to save Borders from closure. That is, until last night when I drove past a big "going out of business" banner spanning the front of a Borders store in Southfield.

My Borders experience goes back years, and in a different state. When I moved to Bangor, Maine, years ago, there were so many outdoorsy things to do that more than made up for the apparent lack of stores, restaurants or night spots.

One of the mainstays at the relatively small Bangor Mall complex even then was Borders. I'd never been in one before moving there and I loved it immediately. I found little known titles, helpful clerks and an overall welcoming atmosphere. Yes, I'm not a big fan of the big box stores, but with Borders, at least in Bangor, you had a store that really tried to fit in with its community.

Borders was also just one of two bookstores in the area. And, given Bangor's then-lacking social scene, Borders was a cool place to meet for coffee, chat awhile and pick up a good book or CD. I think it even had performers in the cafe area during weekend evenings. You always bumped into people you knew.

Over the years, Bangor grew into a city I probably would be hard pressed to recognize in some neighborhoods now. Even while I still lived there, a lot of cool stuff started taking off. Not only has the mall district swelled to capacity, but the once lackluster downtown is a thriving, diverse area offering antiques, great restaurants, boutiques, watering holes, you name it.

I hear part of this is a result of a post-Sept. 11 rural migration. People fled cities for safer, more remote areas. Always ranking pretty highly in those "great place to raise your family" lists, Bangor welcomed these folks and their business.

I also credit stores like Borders as adding to Bangor's attraction. I'd been told that the Bangor store was the leading outlet east of the Mississippi for the Ann-Arbor based business. The Bangor Daily News reported that it consistently ranked in the top 50 stores nationally.

So it seems a shame to close down such a top performing store that has been such a vital part of a community. And such a sign of the times. But I probably won't be able to resist the liquidation sales.

Public Spectacle

Why is it that we feed on tragedies like Amy Winehouse, and only after her death do we seriously look at the disease rather than the spectacle? We watch like vultures. And while we all probably said to ourselves, after looking at her stumbling across the stage or slurring her words, "Wow. That poor girl is going to kill herself unless she gets help," Winehouse continued to provide the scandal fodder that we have such an appetite for.

We view these people - Lindsay Lohan, Charlie Sheen, and the ranks of the 27 that Winehouse has just joined - as circus clowns, as Christians being fed to lions - those who merit our laughter, our scorn, mixed with the morbid fascination of watching a train wreck.

Those who really care about these people are the ones who stay awake at night waiting for the inevitable phone call. They see the drawn-out suicide and suffer.

And then, when they self-destruct, the rest of us sit back and say what a tragedy it was, how addiction and mental illness should be treated like the diseases that they are.

Yeah, the way Winehouse lived her life was tragic. The way she died is tragic. But so is the entrainment value of it.

You say tomato, I say pompous ass

Dear BBC,

I read with great interest feedback to your article about Americanisms, http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-14201796 and I'd like to join in the discussion.

I don't know why our colloquialisms are worming their way into your language. Perhaps it's because you have yankeephiles just as we - much to my never ending chagrin - have anglophiles.

What I'd like to know, however, is why Brits feel compelled to ridicule Americans at every turn? (A Brit would answer, "Because you're rich with opportunities to do so," I'm sure.) Is it a national past time for you, like baseball is to us? Do you get a tax break for it or something?

While I freely admit that some of those phrases and words listed - and others still - make my blood run backwards, isn't this just another opportunity for pompous people with a collective chip on their shoulder to try to rub our noses in British crap?

But while we're on the subject of language, let's look at just a few of your quaint turns of phrase that spring immediately to mind, shall we?

Mate. Are you on a ship? Have you not outgrown your...let's call them Etonian explorations? Are you reproducing with your friend?

Lift. In America, it's what you put in your shoes to make yourself appear taller. Or, you can give someone a lift to the post office. Or you can lift an object. In America, you don't enter a lift to take you from one level to the next. That would be an elevator.

Loo. I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason for this word being synonymous with toilet, but I haven't bothered to figure it out.

On the subject of toilets, water closet? Is it really a closet? You pee in a closet? No wonder you're so cranky all the time.

Speaking of urine, when you're pissed, you're apparently drunk. We're just angry or ticked off. Maybe that's why you've peed in a closet. Don't worry, I've had friends do that when they were drunk, too.

Cheerio. Are you randomly demanding a bowl of cereal?

Que. Why would you call a rank of people a que? C'mon, admit it. Doesn't line work better here?

"I'd eat a scabby horse": Wow. You really must be hungry, but I've suddenly lost my appetite. Oh wait. Maybe you do eat scabby horses.

"I'm feeling peely-wally." Isn't easier to say you're hungover?

I'd also like to know whether you snicker behind your porcelain teacups when an Aussie throws another shrimp on the barbie. Or, closer to home, have you ever listened to your fine neighbors to the north? Your Scottish brethren seem to have a language all their own, but it's supposedly the Queen's English.

I like the Scots, really. They're pretty cool, down-to-earth people despite their grudging membership in the U.K. But I defy anyone who hasn't lived in Scotland to read Trainspotting without referencing the little dictionary Irvine Welsh so thoughtfully included in the back of the book.

Greet = cry. As in, "When I found out that a News of the World 'journalist' hacked into my murdered daughter's voice mail account, I sat down and had a wee greet."

Ken = Know. As in, "I ken those Yanks can be silly wee gits, but why don't I just get a life and worry about something important, like beating the crap out of that football hooligan?"

Cheerio Scottish variation: Cheerio the noo. Given that cheerio is actually a greeting, then cheerio the noo means good-bye for now. I think. Maybe the Scots were demanding a new bowl of cereal RIGHT NOW!

Anyway, thanks so much for the lesson in English. It really was enlightening, and you're always so great about correcting us.  Here's a friendly bit of advice from a Yankee: They're called colloquialisms. Use your own and leave ours alone if they somehow insult your sensitivities. Oh, and here's one that you left out: Suck it!

Who needs Netflix, anyway?

So the secret's out. Netflix sorta sucks.

I just dropped my membership after about a year of consistently having almost $11 drawn from my checking account when Netflix insists my membership level is just a low $7.99 (hidden fees, I always just assumed). Then, in an attempt to manipulate its customers to its on-demand option, I guess it decided to raise its fees to penalize those who, like me, couldn't be bothered to hook up my computer to my television.

I like it much more simple than that: Pop the DVD into my little DVD player, configure one of my three remote controls to the AV setting and then switch to another remote control to engage the DVD, a third controls the volume ... that's about as complicated as I'm willing to get. Maybe the computer-to-television thing is more simple, it's just that I'm an old dog and I like as few new tricks as possible.

So, with no hard feelings I cancelled my membership, but allegedly raised rates weren't the only reason.

1. It almost takes an act of Congress for me to sit through a single movie anymore. It almost always takes me two nights, and by the second night I've usually lost interest in finishing the DVD. Same with TV. I don't think it's my attention span shrinking, I think it's the offerings, but that's another subject altogether. Whatever the reason, I'm not getting my money's worth as it is.

2. The concept of ordering online - all things: furniture, food, entertainment, clothing - started to bother me a little. I'm as antisocial as the next guy, believe me, but human contact is definitely shrinking. Yeah, it saves time so you can spend it with those you really want to see, but I started missing some of these hands-on experiences, that face-to-face contact with a stranger, asking for advice and getting it from someone in this country.

3. At the same time, I could see this brave new world of commerce really taking its hold on me. The novelty would become the norm, and, left to my own devices I'd evolve into a shut-in. If I had enough self-discipline and aggression, I'd earn my entire living as a writer. I can see myself now, perched in front of a computer, cell phone in hand...something would definitely be missing from those interviews. I'd stop dressing, and hell, my hygiene would probably not be the priority it is now.

I heard there's even an "app" for texting in your confession - to what? An e-priest? Cyber-Vatican?  I'd never have to leave the house.

4. Getting back to point number 2, there's that old "buy-local" argument. When you order your books online from Amazon, or you order your movies from Netflix, the vast majority of that revenue goes somewhere else (unless, of course, you live in Seattle, or wherever else these Internet-based businesses call home). No one needs to be preached at regarding this argument - it's been around since before Wal-Mart overtook retail. So much of big box shopping or online is unavoidable anyway, but in times like this - and certainly in Detroit - it bears remembering: Buying local helps our local economy.

So I'm going to Thomas Video the next time I want to rent a movie. It's a hip place on Rochester Road in Royal Oak with vintage televisions all over the place, an enormous collection, and very cool, knowledgeable guys working there. They deserve my business. They work hard for it.

And they've always been much more helpful than the lame-ass DVD recommendations Netflix ever gave me based on my own poor choices.

Economics 101

It took me a long time to figure out that I know about as much as the next person - including politicians -about our economy. I know a little more or a little less than some.

After reading about the Greek economic implosion and its ensuing austerity policy, I remembered that the Greeks aren't the first to take such drastic measures: Ireland and Italy for instance, took the same steps last year. What austerity means to Greece is that programs, including its military (whatever that means) will be cut, and its retirement, pension-drawing age will be raised to 65 years old. Seems like too little too late, but at least it's a start.

Alternatives could be dire for the rest of Europe and the Euro. European nations would lose the money they loaned the Greek economy. Greek banks hold that debt, so their losses might need to be picked up by the government.

On the heals of Greece is media attention of our own debt ceiling looming large on the horizon. We're quickly reaching our credit limit and the ability to pay debts, while continuing to operate this behemoth government.

And with the deadline comes rather the predictable panic and posturing on Capital Hill. But that's not to say that there's no reason for panic. According to http://www.treasurydirect.gov/, our national credit debt in 2000 was 5,561,623,030,891.79. In September 2010 it was 13,623,030,891.79. I can't even conceive of that many numbers translating into dollars, and what's worse is that it's nearly tripled in 10 years.

I have a remarkable talent for boiling all sorts of things down to their simplest common denominator, I know. When there's no more money in my checking account, I stop writing checks. It's that simple. I know that it's not that simple in business and government, but we should start somewhere. Maybe we could use this to start really examining what austerity could mean for us.

I'm well versed in austerity. I've had to live on a shoestring budget so many times that I view credit cards as nothing more than a necessary evil, not as an easy means to a desired end. It's a hard lesson that the rest of the nation is learning as we tighten our belts, think long and hard before spending and really live within our means possibly for the first time in our lives - and for many it's incredibly hard because they're living within means dictated by government benefits: food stamps, unemployment benefits, medicaid.

Austerity could mean that we finally start taking a look at what some of those fabulous programs and benefits developed over the years by our fabulous government really costs us, and as importantly, whether they even work efficiently. Maybe it's time to either kill them, mothball them, or give them to private enterprise. All we have to do is look at our educational system and neglected infrastructure to know that things aren't as they should be. What's ludicrous to me is that, considering its stellar track record, this government proposes - even passed - more government-run  programs like health care. No other government on earth right now is expanding. Shouldn't we take our cue from that?

Instead of taking a look at its own budget the way we have all had to do, part of Congress wants to raise the ceiling to squeak by without fixing anything. And yes, I know even if they did look at budget cuts like never before, nothing would be fixed in time for the August 2nd deadline. But it's got to start somewhere. By all means, raise the ceiling to forestall default and global financial chaos, do whatever it takes. But then get off your complacent asses and finally do something to fix this mess - or messes.

I probably haven't read enough to know the mechanics of actually raising our debt ceiling, but by whose authority do we do this anyway? Do I get to tell Discover card that I've reached my limit, and by God, if they don't raise my debt ceiling I won't be able to pay? Exactly how does this work?

As of yesterday, President Obama began threatening that if the credit ceiling wasn't raised, Social Security checks may not be mailed on August 3. This from the man who campaigned on reducing the debt by half by some distant date when he wouldn't be in office any longer.

Wait a minute. I, along with generations of working people who have put money into this program have always been assured of one thing: Social Security, despite decades-long threats of extinction, has always been sacrosanct. Now, what you're telling me is that you - the U.S. Government - can not be trusted with my money. If businesses were managed as badly as our government, they'd have failed. The government has mismanaged our money so badly, that consequences can very well be as bad as the investment banking system in this country. And many of them were brought up on criminal charges.  Does anything more need to be said?

Six Degrees of Kim Kardashian

So the Casey Anthony jury handed down its not guilty verdict at approximately 2:15 p.m., and just about a half hour later, TMZ linked the trial to possibly one of the most over-exposed people on the planet: Kim Kardashian. Apparently she tweeted her opinion of the outcome.
http://www.tmz.com/2011/07/05/kim-kardashian-casey-anthony-verdict-shocked-oj-simpson/

TMZ noted that her father, Robert Kardashian was one of O.J. Simpson's defense attorneys.

Funny. While I was reading a news link about the Anthony trial, I kept thinking that this trial is about as sensational as the Simpson trial was in the '90s.

Kim tweeted that she was speechless. So are we, Kim. So are we.

A Lesson Learned, Maybe

I don't know if I'm alone in this, but I'm betting not. At the same time, I openly admit that it's one of the most juvenile characteristics about me: I hate, hate, HATE it when someone fails to acknowledge that I've held the door open for them or let them into traffic.

My friend Martha has said that I have a good filter, meaning that I usually exhibit uncommon restraint and courtesy even when the situation may call for the acid side of my tongue. In truth, I've just mellowed a lot over time; I can't be bothered to get into an argument over most stuff. Also, there seem to be a lot more maniacs roaming the streets than there used to be. I don't want to draw their attention to me for any reason.

So, usually in the event that someone cuts into traffic or sails through a door like the QE2, I stew in silence and then forget about it.

A few weeks ago, however, my filter must have slipped a cog, gone on strike, or was otherwise occupied filtering out some other filthy remark or gesture.

We'd just come from dinner, and I was popping into another shop. The door was being held open for me by a friend. I actually paused to let another woman through first. When she breezed right through as though we were just the friendly doormen at the Plaza Hotel, I snarled, "You're so welcome."

Usually I receive no response and it only serves to make me feel momentarily better, as if I were the arbiter of good manners. And I don't actually know what I would do if one of those aforementioned maniacs responded to me. I'd rather not know.

This time, the woman turned around. My first thought was that she bore a striking resemblance to my mother, whom I would never address like that (I'd have no teeth if I had). My second thought was utter confusion: I was expecting some harsh words back, and she apologized. And then went on to explain that she'd just been in an accident and was really shaken up.

To my small credit, I walked back over to her and put my arm around her to see if she needed to sit. I also apologized for my sarcasm. And despite my apologies and belatedly kind gesture, I felt badly about it for days. I don't make it my mission in life to make people feel bad or worse than they already do.

I don't know what's going on in other people's lives. None of us do. If I was ever slapped in the face with a lesson, this, friends and neighbors, was it. I hope I've learned it well.

To reinforce it, I've been consciously letting people into traffic and holding doors open for them. And the funny thing is, they're usually polite about it.

Summer Reading

Some 20-somethings do live full enough lives to warrant an autobiography, but I'm not sure Bristol Palin or Levi Johnston rank among them. The publishing industry doesn't agree, however, because both are releasing their memoirs on an unsuspecting public.

What have they done beyond that of any other average teenage couple in America? She got drunk and lost her virginity during a camping trip and became pregnant. Unfortunate, but it happens all the time, everyday, all over the country. The expectant couple were engaged for about three minutes before the cheating and accusations starting flying faster than a Kodiak can swipe the grin off of Sarah Palin's over-exposed face.

Since then, Johnston and Palin have become fixtures in the tabloids, on television, everywhere. Sarah has or had a reality show based on her home state; Bristol went on a strange and hypocritical "I've-learned-my-lesson" abstinence tour sponsored by Candies, those makers of fine sandals and pole-dancing shoes. Bristol brought home the bacon for little Tripp on that one, pulling in some 200K. Then she competed on Dancing with the Stars. She lately confirmed rumors of plastic surgery. Well, why not? It's a rite of passage.

And Levi? Levi had no problem showing off what Bristol lost her virginity to for all the world to see (or whoever wanted to) in Playgirl magazine. That's when he wasn't busy running for mayor of whatever town he calls home or fathering another child with another girl.

Occassionally we'd hear jabs being thrown at one from the other, and then the dust seemed to settle.  But now both have books coming out. Hers is titled, "Not Afraid of Life: My Journey So Far," comes out this summer, and the title implies a sequel. Incidentally, the cover looks like bad country music album art.

His is called "Deer in the Headlights: My Life in Sarah Palin's Crosshairs." Far be for me to actually defend Sarah Palin, but really: Levi, don't you think you sort of deserve to be in her crosshairs?

For me, this boils down to three things.

1. The hillbilly throw-down continues, only on a grander scale. It's like Dynasty meets Jerry Springer. There's enough political intrigue, scandal and drama to make a Kennedy blush. Oh yeah, and remember Tripp? That little biological byproduct of their outdoor gropings? Acrimony, name-calling and public grievance-airing are all great lessons to teach their son.

2. What wisdom could two 20-somethings possibly impart to their readership?
Oh yeah. Don't forget to use a condom. And if mom gets famous - or infamous - enough, we can all ride the reality show train 'til the grizzlies come home. What's next for Bristol? Housewives of Juneau?

3. Sarah, take note: not all publicity is good if you're even toying with running for the White House. Do you really want the monkeys out of the cage? Because you seem fine with it. And that frightens me.

So the question isn't whether you'll run out and scoop up these page turners. Sadly, if the publishing industry has seen fit to print these stories, then there must be a market for them. The question, rather, is this: When will we have had enough of Sarah Palin, her brood, and their associates? Will they finally have had their say and - please, God - go away?

Weiner's Flash of Stupidity

Our culture has become sadly predictable.
Technology - photo technology and methods of sending photos, specifically - have opened up new juvenile territory for all of us. It's possible to "show you mine if you show me yours," via cell phone, and in Anthony Weiner's case, scatter shot images of his not-so-hot bod to anyone who showed remote interest.

And what does he do once he's inevitably caught?


He plays the treatment card.

It's been done before, Anthony. It's boring.

And wrong on so many levels. He's just the latest in a long line of celebrities who seek refuge in the form of a rehab program when their habits got the better of them. Habits almost always do.

A few drinks too many, all caught on camera? A coke-fueled spiral into insanity? It's all great fodder for us.

The media - and worse, your wife - caught wind of your sophomorically illicit photos being tweeted? Seek treatment and all will be forgiven. Or at least it can buy you some time.

And in the meantime, we're all supposed to take the high road and respect the "patient's" privacy. You forfeited your privacy when you went public with your privates, and apparently coached someone on how to effectively lie about it. Now you want privacy? Really?

Treatment would be fine if his motives were a genuine attempt at cleaning up his life. But since he's already been caught coaching one of his lucky picture recipients on how to lie, I have a hard time believing his motives.

People go to treatment - most of 'em, anyway - to save their lives. And for what they're trying to do, they deserve our respect and support. And not all celebrities' motives are suspect. I wish them good luck, good health, God speed and happiness. There's a difference between wanting to get well and clean up your life, and pandering your way out of self-inflicted trouble.

Anthony Weiner is that pandering boob who got caught. And what's his "amends" going to be like? Something along the lines of Tiger Woods' phony apology to his wife? Maybe that would have meant more to Elin if the apology weren't televised in such staged glory.

It didn't strike me as genuinely remorseful, and I don't think Weiner's going to pull off anything better, or ever really have any credibility left with his wife, his constituents or his colleagues.

And last I heard, there isn't a 12-step program for stupidity or arrogance.