The Sox Rock!

Last night with a Red Sox win and a Yankees loss, the Sox clinched the top spot in the AL East. The regular season is over and now begins the gut wrenching, nail biting, hair tearing post season.

And for Sox fans, October means a steady diet of beer, pizza, ESPN, and Xanax.

Nerd Club of the Air is Back!

In early August, KPBS in San Diego canceled one of my favorite public radio shows, "A Way With Words."

I'm thrilled to tell you that today, after a couple of months of hard work, co-hosts Martha Barnette and Grant Barrett, along with their producer Stefanie Levine, announced the show's much anticipated resurrection.

From what my sources tell me, the new show will be better than it's ever been and much more accessible to listeners.

So if you're a big Word Nerd like me, gather up all your questions about dangling participles, word origins, weird phrases, and punctuation mysteries, and check out their site. And don't forget to sign up for their email newsletter.

Finally - The True Meaning of Laundry Petroglyphs

About a month ago, I bought a few new bras. They seemed more delicate than my other bras so I thought I'd take a look at the washing instructions on the tag.

But all I found were three symbols that made no sense to me. There were no instructions, just these three shapes that looked like something from a pre-school lesson plan. And they were tiny, too.

So I've been afraid to wash my bras lest they explode or something. But then I found a website to answer all my laundry symbol questions.

It was like I'd just come down from Mount Sinai. Thou shalt not bleach.

Ride The SLUT

Many cities have catchy acronyms or nicknames for their light rail systems. Paris has the Metro, London has the Tube, Boston has the T, and the Bay Area has BART.

But the Seattle neighborhood of South Lake (a combination of three areas: Cascade, Denny Triangle and Denny Park) has a name for their new transportation system that should attract plenty of riders - the SLUT - the South Lake Union Trolley.

This is why we hire marketing consultants.

Avast Me Heebies!

Tomorrow is International Talk Like a Pirate Day, so naturally I had to do a little research to see if there were any Jewish pirates. Such a treasure trove of information I found!

It turns out that when the Sephardim were run out of Spain in 1492 some of them became notorious pirates. And there was even a Moroccan pirate who was also a rabbi. I'd hate to be the kid who had this guy do his bris.

One of their ships probably had a parrot named Herschel whose repertoire consisted of:

"Be careful with that sword; You could put out an eye."

"Plank, schmank; Make the prisoner call his mother."

"Discover Florida? You should live so long."

I Racked My Brain - But I Just Don't Get It

Like anyone else who doesn't live under a rock, I realize that this country is breast-obsessed.

But the Jingle Jugs Tour and its battery operated "Jugs that Jiggle" gets the booby prize for low brow and tasteless. Yeah, yeah the group gives 10% of their profits to breast cancer causes just to stay on the edge of political correctness, but give me a break!

Now anyone with $39.99, or $49.99 if you want to customize the sound, (the standard model comes with the soundtrack "Titties and Beer" by Rodney Carrington. Nice.) can own their own "trophy rack" that jiggles to tacky music.

And with the holidays fast approaching, now you've got the perfect gift for the man, or woman (you never know) who has everything.

I've Grown Accustomed to Your Typeface

Nerd. Wonk. Geek. Propeller head. Call me what you will, but I'm dying to see the new film "Helvetica." This documentary provides a veritable font of knowledge about the typeface Helvetica, and sounds pretty interesting to me.

From the New York Times review:

"Overlong but fascinating, Mr. Hustwit’s documentary posits Helvetica — a sans-serif typeface developed in 1957 at the Haas Foundry in Munchenstein, Switzerland — as an emblem of the machine age, a harbinger of globalization and an ally of modern art’s impulse toward innovation, simplicity and abstraction. Its versatility is showcased in shots of storefronts, street signs, public transportation systems, government forms, advertisements and newspaper vending boxes."

Of course, this film probably won't be up for any awards because of the obvious typecasting.

L'Shana Tova Tika Tevu

It's that thinky time of year again. Tonight begins the 10 Days of Awe, the period between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

To all my Jewish brothers and sisters - have a sweet and happy New Year and an easy fast.

Have I Got a Deal For You

I could understand it if the tickets were for a lifetime of floor seats for Knicks games, or field level seats behind home plate for the Boston Red Sox, or orchestra seats for the Metropolitan Opera.

But spending $1.8 million for a lifetime of choice seats at a synagogue in Miami?

Yep, Temple Emanu-El in South Beach is using eBay to auction off two seats in the front row that will remain in the owner's family for life. And the bidding for the coveted pair starts at $1.8 million.

I get that it's a great tax write-off and a really generous endowment for the temple, but, oy vey, that's an arkload of sheckels for a couple of seats in shul.

Then again, the winner also gets free parking and two custom made yarmulkes and prayer shawls. So, what's not to like?

Well, here's the caveat. Under the rabbi's constant gaze, there's no way you can nod off during the sermon. And don't even think about pretending to daven while listening to the World Series during High Holy Day services.

Another Shocker from the Who Knew? Files

Kissing is more important to women than it is to men.

Yep, it's true. In a study conducted by a team at SUNY Albany, over 1,000 students filled out sexual behavior questionnaires, and - guess what? - women consider kissing a key prelude to sex. (Can I get an "Amen"?)

But the guys? Kissing, schmissing.

The study shows that women are all about the lip lock. And here's part of their reasoning: If a man doesn't have the kissing thing down, then it's likely he can't, er, dance so good either. If your new guy covers your face with his mouth and shoves his tongue down your throat, you know he's probably really good at CPR. But as a fine-tuned love machine? Not so much.

The men surveyed are partial to wet, tongue kisses if they have to suck face, but can easily skip kissing altogether and go right to the main course.

And this is just one of the many reasons why lesbian recruitment is so darned easy.

Men Prefer Looks to Brains - Who Knew?

You're not going to believe this.

A recent scientific study has proven that (drum roll) men prefer hot women.

Apparently, those geeky folks in white coats at the National Academy of Sciences spent time and money to come to a conclusion that falls in the "Duh!" category.

This brilliant deduction was probably cited in the footnotes of the Rosetta Stone, and if you check out a few cave walls, there are likely several petroglyphs that deliver a similiar message.

So what's the next Big Scientific Revelation from this group? Discovery of fire changes everything?

I See London, I See France

Queen Victoria is probably having a party in her grave right about now.

Atlanta, Georgia is considering adding an amendment
to its indecency laws that would ban exposure of undergarmets in public. The point is to discourage kids dressing in hip hop style clothing, including baggy pants that sag low enough to show a hint of skivvies. Thong sightings would be a big no-no, too.

But then the proposed amendment takes it even further. No form of undies, including bra straps and sports bras, can be exposed at any time. Give me a break. Bra straps? Jogbras? There are swimsuits that reveal more than most jogbras.

And on a hot day, there's nothing more freeing (well, naked would actually be more freeing, but that's a whole other legal issue) than exercising in as little as possible, and for women that usually means a jogbra and a pair of shorts.

Plus, what's even worse, Atlanta lesbians would lose an entire summer wardrobe.

Me-ga-Dik: Truth Or Phallusy?

I don't mean to focus on the phallus, but I couldn't help but share this bit of spam I received today:

"Dames always giggled at me and even chaps did in the urban lavatory! Well, now I laugh at them, because I took Me-ga-Dik for 4 months and now my shaft is truly more than national."

So, how does one's shaft go national? He must have done really well in the regionals.

No Hos At This Hoedown

I watch a lot of baseball, and when you watch sports on television, you're subjected to ads for three things: trucks, beer, and erectile dysfunction remedies.

This commercial, showing five down home men a-pickin' and a-grinnin' as they sing about the joys of Viagra, made me wonder if it was produced by the people at Saturday Night Live.

Apparently - amid, er, stiff competition - the Little Blue Pill is trying its hand at a different approach to advertising - there are no women in the spot. Just a bunch of middle-aged guys in flannel shirts having a jam session.

And, weirdest of all, they're singing about how Viagra keeps them from straying. Now that I've got good wood on-demand, it's all just for you, baby.

Right. And the dog ate my homework.

The Frying Pan, the Sandwich and the Smoke Alarm

Relax all you Narnians; this isn't a sequel to "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe." It's the Chronicles of Grilled Cheese Part 2. (For Part 1, see January 12, 2007 entry.)

After nearly burning down the neighborhood during my last attempt, this afternoon I successfully made myself a grilled cheese sandwich. And I didn't hear a peep from the smoke alarm.

Being a big geek, I looked up the recipe online (yeah, I know - only the lamest of the lame need a recipe for grilled cheese) and added one little touch. Canola oil spray, which made it taste kind of weird, but at least this time I was able to actually remove the sandwich from the pan.

Tomorrow paella!

The 3-Ounce Brain Rule

I didn't have time to buy decent snacks before going to the airport, so just prior to boarding my six-hour flight from Boston to San Diego, I stopped at a Wolfgang Puck sandwich kiosk located right outside the security checkpoint.

I knew that if I opted to fly without food, my in-flight choices would be a limp, tasteless and still-frozen sandwich for $5 and a snack box consisting of such healthy items as potato chips, a candy bar, cookies, and pork rinds for $3. So instead, I purchased a turkey sandwich on focaccia bread (which, despite its supposed lineage, wouldn't even pass as Wolfgang Puck's step-child) and a very overpriced bottle of water.

I'm well aware of the three-ounce liquids in a Ziplock bag rule. But I figured that because the sandwich stand is within spitting distance of the security checkpoint, and subject to airport and TSA scrutiny, my unopened bottle of water would be safe. And there were no signs indicating passengers must consume beverages purchased at this kiosk prior to going through security.

Silly, silly me. Once my carry-on bag reached the bowels of the X-ray machine, an alarm went off and one of the TSA agents screamed, "Bag check!" My potentially life-threatening water was whisked away to an undisclosed location, and I had to go find another kiosk inside the secure area in order to purchase a terror-free bottle.

You know what really terrifies me about air travel? I think the TSA shares one brain, and you never know which airport has it.

Wayward Word Nerds Unite!

Last week while I was vacationing on Cape Cod, I heard that one of my favorite shows on public radio had been canceled. "A Way With Words" produced at KPBS in San Diego, had aired in several cities across the U.S. for eight years, and was a font of knowledge for word nerds like me.

Taking a moment to put down my 18th lobster roll, I exchanged a few emails with my good friend "A Way With Words" co-host, Martha Barnette, to find out the scoop. The show might be experiencing a temporary hiccup right now, but it'll be airing again at some point from somewhere else. You can bet on that!

If you want to know more, visit Martha's blog.

If you're a word nerd and don't know about the show, you can visit their new website to find out about past episodes and podcasts, and to track the new show's progress. And tell all your word nerd pals, too.

P.S., Your Cat is News

I never watch television news. In fact, the only thing I watch on TV these days is either baseball or coverage of Le Tour de France.

And here's why. Tonight's teaser for the local evening news? A clairvoyant cat that can predict death.

Maybe he should get a job with Nielsen Media Research.

Comma, Comma, Comma, Comma, Comma Chameleon

I am a comma chameleon. My commas, as well as other punctuation, have to adapt to the particular style of each editor for whom I write. I'm usually pretty good with periods, question marks, quotation marks, and the like.

But commas, boy, they baffle the heck out of me.

And just when I think I have an editor's comma style down pat, it changes. All the commas I thought were needed end up swimming with the fishes. Or my sparsely punctuated pieces get a comma carpet bombing.

And serial commas? You know, the ones that should (or should not) go before the "and" in a series? Fuggedaboudit! Sometimes I just toss a coin.

If you're comma curious, visit this blog written by my good friend and language expert, Martha Barnette.

From what I understand, she has a pretty good handle on the comma sutra.

Do a Little Dance, Make a Little Love, Double Down Tonight

Mirapex is a drug that treats restless leg syndrome. People who suffer from RLS have an uncontrollable creepy, crawly or burning sensation in their legs.

According to the documentation, side effects of Mirapex could include - and I'm not making this up - increased sexual desire or the urge to gamble.

I can understand certain drugs affecting libido, but intensifying the compulsion to gamble? I mean, what are the odds?

Then again, maybe they meant gambol.