Right now, the "web…blah…log" is not being updated regularly, but feel free to peruse the archive, and check out our carefully selected highlights from Season One, Season Two, and Season Three.

Saturday, December 31, 2011

next year

So here we are. 
I have not yet read either of the Stephen Sondheim books that dissect his lyrics (Finishing the Hat and Look I Made a Hat), nor am I a savant when it comes to his work, but I don’t think I am creating any great controversy in declaring that his most poignant lyric is probably this one, from A Little Night Music: the last line of the song Send in the Clowns
Well, maybe next year.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011


So here we are.
This week, my dear Northwestern University is playing in the Meineke Car Care Bowl of Texas. I probably won’t be watching. It’s not because we won’t have access to the game -- cable allows us to see colleges we never knew existed play everything from water polo to tetherball. And it’s not because I’m ignorant about football -- I was a kid in Pittsburgh, PA during the Steel Curtain/Immaculate Reception days. 
It’s because I refuse to watch lamely named bowls. 

Friday, December 23, 2011

a little gift

So here we are. 
Seeing as tomorrow is Christmas Eve, it’s appropriate that I give you devoted dozens a little gift.
Last year, I gave you a Christmas warning, in the form of an original poem. For those of you who missed it, I’m happy to share it again:

Saturday, December 17, 2011


So here we are. 
Ah, it’s that time of year. The time of year when the world is filled with festive joy and the spirit of giving. 
It’s also the time of year when jackasses blog about crappy gifts you better not give to anyone, especially them. 

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

irregularity (not that kind)

So here we are.
I don’t read many other blogs regularly, but one that I do check out every now and then is By Ken Levine. He writes mostly about Hollywood (he lives in L.A.), TV (he’s worked on a giant crop of wildly popular sitcoms), film (he co-wrote several screenplays), baseball (he’s a major league announcer) and popular culture in general (the only other thing that writers in L.A. think about besides baseball). Basically, he writes the kind of stuff I do, only better and with a lot more baseball. As such, it’s a pretty durned entertaining way to procrastinate. 

Friday, December 9, 2011

lame but true

So here we are.
Did you ever have something happen to you that seemed like a lame plot line in a lame sitcom? Something that was only funny because it was pathetic, and even the word funny is too complimentary to describe it? Something where the timing of the events seemed just a little too perfectly pat to be real? 
Did you ever have something happen to you that, when compared to the plights and tragedies that plague the rest of the world, seems petty and shallow to even mention but nonetheless needs to be shared because of its sheer ridiculousness? Something that might make people feel sorry for you; not because of what happened, but because you felt the need to tell the silly story? Something that perhaps would feel at home in a Ziggy comic?
Guess what? I did.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

at 40

So here we are.
Today, I am officially middle-aged. I hate it. Of course, I also hate that I hate it, because that just makes me seem like a great big cliché. Thank God I don’t drink much, because the thought of adding a giant glass of wine to the picture is just too damned stereotypical to bear.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

comment reply ("underneath")

So here we are.
You didn’t expect to see me again so soon, did you? You thought I’d be on the floor in the fetal position, rocking back and forth, whispering, holoblomo... holoblomo...
But I just got a comment on one of my recent Horribly Local Blogging Month posts, and I wanted to share it with you, as well as my (edited and augmented) response to it, since I’m sure nobody out there subscribes to the comments. It was regarding “holoblomo day 26: underneath,” which, I am amazed to say, is now my most-read post in the history of web...blah...log.
Here’s the comment, verbatim, from George: