The 2006 Winter Olympics are only some 48 hours old, but there's already something to obsess over, and it ain't the fate of Michelle Kwan's Vera Wang-designed skating costumes that now won't absorb even the tiniest rinkside fleck of ice.
U. S. alpine skier Bode Miller is hot.
In a grew-up-on-a-hippie-farm-in-New-Hampshire, a tad bit dirty, roguish all-night drinking, renegade on the slopes kind of way. And note I am not participating in the "bodacious" punning that's been causing groans every time a sports page has been clicked or rustled open the past few weeks. And don't hate his hair, he works in a helmet.
Not convinced? He looks even better in the ski togs.
What, do you expect me to get this excited about the U.S. Skeleton team?
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
This giant-ass gerbera daisy was revolving limpidly over the Mag Mile last night.
Did you know gerbera daisies were discovered in the Transvaal (South Africa) in the 19th century?
I don't know what this has to do with Saks Fifth Avenue, Garretts Popcorn, the Peninsula Hotel, or any other Boule Mich. outfits.
A daisy convention, conference on seminal South African botanists, or Laugh-In night at RL?
It's still not spring.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
I love the colors in the Loop when it's just dusk.
The angles there seem devastatingly sharpened.
You can have your Rockies, your capes, your Appalachians that farrow down to the gentle hills of Kentucky, your craggy sea-sprayed shorelines.
Sometimes geometry that's man-made is exquisite, too.
Every day, it's something, even if only how stumbly, fake-cheerful Chicago Public Radio morning announcer Lisa Labuz has managed to keep her job for the past seven years (after following me here from Milwaukee. But anyway.)
How does Puxa --oh, crap, how do you spell this anyway...?--Punxsutawney Phil (thank you, cut-and-paste) see his shadow? Or, rather, how do we know that a groundhog has "seen" his "shadow?"
.08 seconds later (thank you, Google) I have some answers. Well, not answers--information. Weird, slightly disturbing, Frank L. Baum-like information.
Well, apparently there's a group of grown Pennsylvanian men who dress like the little guy from Monopoly, minus the monocle, known as the "Inner Circle" , who plan the annual February 2nd hullabaloo in Gobbler's Knob (yes), PA. They care for the fuzzy prognosticator during the year and sport titles like "Big Flake Maker" and "Fog Spinner" and "Burrow Master." Yes, it sounds just as much like a cross between a fraternity and Watership Down as you think it does.
Whether the wise woodchuck spies his shadow is not divined; Phil actually tells the leader of the the top-hatted brotherhood, "in "Groundhogese"(a language only understood by the current president of the Inner Circle). His proclamation is then translated for the world."
You're as excited as Phil himself would be in front of a pyramid of Whole Foods organic lettuce heads, so look here for answers to more burning FAQs about Groundhog Day.
And look at those choppers. Phil looks drunk, if you ask me.