fine whine

It has occurred to me that I haven't mentioned any vanity license plates lately. Today while we were out driving, I happened to see quite possibly the ultimate one again, VAN T PL8 in amongst the ones named for the cars (CMBENZ), their drivers (LEX N ROB) or their hobbies (XBOX360... I kid you not). Every time I see VAN T PL8 I think about writing about it, but only now am I remembering to do so. Sorry about that.

I can't remember everything, after all.

There comes a time in every American's life* when he or she stops watching Saturday Night Live. I can't remember when it happened for me, but I know that it has happened, and that the new cast is over half unfamiliar to me. The humor hasn't improved all that much since I stopped, but as always there's the random funny bit scattered between too-long-and-unfunny skits (any sketch that starts out introducing a home video is a bad one, and now there too lazy even to add the fake camcorder viewfinder stuff to the frame. Tsk,tsk) that makes finding the pearls a question of patience.

Then again, my plan otherwise was to watch half an hour of some bad movie tonight, so, for the sake of research, let's call it, I watched SNL. But I can't really say anymore that I watch it, know what I mean? Because I don't and even though I did for a bit tonight, I won't.

Now, if I could somehow acquire a DVD filled with all of the Smigel cartoons over the years (and yes, I mean every single one) that would be a wonderful thing. The show itself lends itself more to the random rerun or best-of compilation episode, but it wouldn't work well as a full-season DVD set (my TV delivery method of choice). I've enough other DVDs to watch already, anyway.

* Well, almost every American. I may be overgeneralizing. I finished Walter Kirn's excellent Mission to America and its protagonist is a boy who grew up in a secluded Montana town surrounded by religious doctrine but no televisions. I can only assume that, given the fully realized characters and their believable foibles, that the story was a thinly-veiled autobiography. Bravo, Walter, for telling the true tale of what you did before becoming a jet-setter seeking that million miles. If you don't know what I mean, read his Up in the air. You should probably read it anyway, because it's a good book.