Update: Tina Fey Still Not My BFF

Dear Tina, it’s been a year since I invited you to be my BFF. Aside from the handful of secret messages I picked up in a few episodes of “30 Rock,” you haven’t responded.

Maybe you’re wondering what life as BFFs would be like. What sorts of activities might we enjoy together? Maybe you need some specifics. Sure, there’s the usual BFF stuff, shopping, mani-pedis, cheese sculpting. But what’s left when people are already bored by a near life-size cheddar of the signing of the Declaration of Independence? We need to go large.

So I’m just going to put this out there. International Beard and Moustache Championship in Amberg, Germany, Sept. 23. Hosted by the East Bavarian Beard Club. Meet you there?

New Test Can Tell If Your Kid's Going To Be A Loser

In just fifteen minutes, you can find out whether eighteen years of saving for your kid’s college education will be worth years of forgoing vacations, ordering well instead of top shelf, and shopping at Kohl’s.

Researchers at Stanford University have been able to isolate the success gene. Turns out, your child’s future rests in his ability to resist the temptation of a simple marshmallow. Motivational speaker Joachim de Posada explains the theory in this video from the recent TED Conference held in Long Beach, CA.

Watch it and get ready to find out if your kid is going to Dartmouth, or if you’re going on a shopping spree and the vacation of a lifetime.

A Tribute To Beer’s Best Friend, The Barbecue

You’ve been around since our first apartment, outside on the balcony, forlorn all winter long, but ready to go come May. You were there when we threw our first party. You were there when we graduated from college. When we got our first promotion. You were always there. With a warm glow and that certain sizzle. You even stuck by us when we went vegetarian and grilled nothing but peppers and zucchini. You never judge.

We’re talking about you, hard-working barbecue grill, waiting patiently for months in a dark corner of the garage, or under a dusty plastic tarp around the side of the house as far from view as possible. You, Trusty Triton of the Tri-Tip, who ask nothing more than to be brought out into the light when the chill is off the air.

While others upgrade to propane and stainless steel, creating outdoor grilling palaces, monuments to meat, cathedrals of carnivorous delight, you, my humble hunk of Weber, are content with a simple patch of concrete under a weathered pergola.

If only early man had had a friend like you. Back when he had to drape his insect infested meat over a smoky fire to keep it from twisting his guts into a Picasso-esque mess. How much quicker might civilization have advanced had you been around to guide and educate on the important things like getting the burgers done in time for kick-off?

Today, we honor you, Sultan of Sear. For all you’ve given us. For putting the sizzle in Saturday afternoon. For giving Dad something to focus on at the pool party other than Mrs. Schmidt in a bikini. For keeping the hot dogs coming at the Boy Scout picnic, cause god knows what kind of trouble thirty hungry fourth grade boys hopped up on Capri Sun can get into. For helping to raise the making of the backyard burger to an art. For acting like a professional and doing your job even when some guy in a Tommy Bahama shirt refers to you as a barbie while cracking open a Zima. For making it possible to cook, swim, drink beer and play volleyball all at once.

For the last few months, your closest confidants have been a withered, English Ivy and the dog’s missing chew toys. Good news. Warm weather has arrived. The tarp comes off now. All your friends are here. Yes, of course, Beer is here. Are you kidding?

It’s time, greasy old friend. It’s time.

Whoa

So, you know that stock I bought. Yeah, didn't work out too well. Feeling a little queasy. Whoa. Okay, that was this morning's breast milk.

I think I'm just going to stick to the xylophone. Yeah, I just spelled that. It's easy. Almost as easy as buying stock on E*Trade.

Also, if you know anybody whose looking for a clown...I had to let Bobo go.

Thoughts From My Imaginary Financial Advisor

The market has been up and down like parishioners at a Catholic mass lately. After today's stock slaughter, I think it may be time to start looking to unconventional methods of money management. Here are a few maverick ideas you won't find in Smart Money. (Why a picture of the Geico Gecko? I imagine if he were my financial advisor, he would endorse these ideas.)

Offshore accounts. I found a bank in New Zealand offering 8% interest. But do your homework. Make sure your foreign safe haven is not run by a Nigerian prince.

Start a religion. It worked for Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard. As for a name, I'd definitely leave science out of it. Consider something short, snappy and inspiring, like Jebucks. It combines the notion of Jesus, money and coffee. I'm seeing a place of worship on every corner.

China continues to be a rapidly expanding market. I predict the next growth sector there will be the development of cheap alternatives to melamine.

Open a pawn shop. This is an area ripe for expansion as people begin selling off their espresso makers and big screen TVs to make their house payments.

Invest in survival gear. At the rate we're going, it can't be long before this market is exploding.

Two words: alcoholic Beverages. I expect alcohol sales to rise dramatically over the next few months. Put your money in Seagrams. And look both ways when crossing the street.

If you really just want to hide your cash somewhere safe, forget the mattress. Put your money in a cave in Tora Bora, then move it to Pakistan.

Welcome To Extended Stay, Pull My Finger

When choosing a hotel, how much does finding a place where you can rip one repeatedly to the tune of a John Phillips Souza march figure in?

Apparently, the marketing folks behind a campaign for Extended Stay Hotels must think an exceptional stay means clean sheets, on-demand movies, and the fetid stench of your own humanity. Their latest commercial shows a variety of hotel guests raising a haunch and letting fly with a satisfied smile that sends my creep-o-meter pinging. The ferocity of their gut bombs slams doors, sends curtains billowing, and snuffs candles.

The tagline says: NO PLACE MAKES YOU FEEL MORE COMFORTABLE. If by comfortable they mean freeing yourself of all responsibility for your bodily functions, they may have something there. Welcome to Extended Stay, here’s a package of Depends just in case you get a little too relaxed.

I think I might have gone with the tagline: REEKS LIKE A HOBO'S SLEEPING BAG AFTER A PBR AND A CAN OF BAKED BEANS.

I give them credit for thinking outside the box and for taking risks, but there is just something so unappealing about watching a parade of people actually put effort behind squeezing out a turd precursor.

I don’t want to be anywhere near the breakfast buffet at this place.

Sarah Palin: Vice Decider?

No one does smug, snark and nastiness better than the Republicans. But, inspired by the RNC, I thought I'd give it a try. So without further ado, my first iMovie.

Baghdad Eye On The Tourist Coin

In a show of extreme optimism, Iraq’s tourism board has announced its plan to build a 650 foot tall Ferris wheel in Baghdad. The London Eye (pictured above) is a mere 443 feet tall. Iraq’s version would feature air-conditioned compartments large enough to carry 30 passengers each. Insurgents are readying their rocket launchers.

The Baghdad Eye, as it’s been dubbed, will provide sweeping views of the capital city. Those who make the complete revolution will be offered the opportunity purchase a souvenir photo. The families of the others, will receive complimentary Zip-loc baggies.

Iraq’s tourism board is also looking for bids on a proposed resort island on the beautiful Tigris River, which would feature a six-star hotel, spa, 18-hole golf course and country club. Start packing, bargain travelers.

Dream Big

A Hong Kong jewelry store known internationally for its lavish lavatory built from six tons of gold has begun cashing in on its coveted crapper. With gold prices topping $900 an ounce, the monument to movement is being melted down and sold off piece by piece. But owner Lam Sai-wing insists the enclave of excrement’s crowning glory, the toilet, will remain intact. He’s not giving up on his dream to one day s*** a gold brick.

You Won't See This On Staycation

Thanks to historic gas prices and a tanking economy, this summer’s buzzword is “staycation.” Taking a vacation right in your own backyard. Everyone from the "Today Show" to CNN to Home Depot are pushing it as the hottest travel trend. A Google search yields more than 216,000 references. In true American fashion, we’ve taken a negative, “you can’t afford a vacation,” and turned it into a positive. Turn that frown upside down, America. You’re going on a fabulous “staycation.” That’s right, a whole week camped out in your living room with a bucket of KFC (extra crispy), a liter of diet Dr. Pepper and a stack of DVDs.

It's not the economic meltdown that's making it tough to get away this year. It's just that there are plenty of ways to spend that stimulus check right in your own neighborhood, right? If they really want to sell the American public on a stay-at-home vacation, give it some appeal. Where’s the sizzle? The word “staycation” sounds more like a kennel for obedience-challenged dogs. Why do I want a “staycation”? A moratorium on chores, or “choreatorium” as it's been dubbed, hardly stacks up against maid service, breakfast in bed and poolside umbrella drinks arriving at my bidding. Choreatorium is just a really weird way of saying I’m staying at home in a dirty house with dishes piling up. Sweet. Bring me another “Cheaparita.” Oh yeah, I have to get it myself.

Since we stayed at home over the Fourth of July holiday weekend, I guess one could say we indulged in a staycation. As staycations go, it was pretty freaking awesome. We attended an outdoor San Francisco symphony concert and fireworks extravaganza, lounged by the pool, ate at some nice restaurants, went kayaking, took a bayside stroll, saw “Get Smart” and “Wall-E,” breakfasted on the patio. I cheated and did a little laundry, but still a pretty good non-get-away. Next weekend, I’m thinking about dragging a mattress out onto the deck and sleeping under the stars for a staycation camp-out. We can make hibachi s’mores.

Will all this staycationing be good for the economy? You bet. With all the money you're saving on airfare and hotels, you can go ahead and get movie candy for the whole family, buy that tricked out backyard grill, and pick up a whole slew of travel DVDs so you can plan your next paycation.

You might not see great works of art, or broaden your awareness of other cultures while on staycation, but you will discover the intricacies of your own neighborhood and, if you're lucky, find out who's been letting their dog crap on your lawn.

Summer Bliss Squelchers

If only my cat could manage to park her breakfast without getting it all over the fur on her hind end, which ultimately ends up in nasty little kitty skid marks all over the living room rug, I wouldn’t have needed to go to Target for another can of carpet cleaner where, upon seeing the summer clearance already in progress, I fell into a deep depression over the fact that I have only just found my swim suit for the season, which according to the people at Target, is already over.

All the summer items were on clearance, relegated to a few overcrowded, disorganized shelves. The watering cans, the colorful outdoor pillows, the decorative Indonesian carvings, the bird baths and reflection globes. Even the lawn gnomes. Meanwhile a couple of burly red-shirted guys were busy clearing out all the patio furniture to make way for, forgive me for saying it, Back To School stuff. Target has truly harshed my summer buzz.

It’s not even Fourth of July, Target managers. I haven’t even been to the beach yet. Haven't had my first taste of summer watermelon or nectarine. My first grilled burger. I've barely begun to enjoy the long amber-tinged evenings, the wearing of sandals, the scent of jasmine drifting in through the open window as I fall asleep. My first pedicure of the season is hardly showing any wear. I've almost no tan. I haven't even begun a trashy novel. What sort of insidious plot is this?

I vow not to set foot in a Target until at least the third week of August when Back To School will begin to seem like a light at the end of a long, hot, PS3 filled tunnel. Until then, there’s only one phrase more hated in our household than “back to school” and that’s “where’s the carpet cleaner?”

Out Now: Smug 2.0

According to a recent study, if you really, really like gadgets you are probably an arrogant prick. And if you’re an early adopter, even worse.

An online study of 25,000 American adults revealed a strong correlation between a love of technology and personality traits like leadership, dynamism and assertiveness coupled with serious lack of modesty. Is this really all that surprising? Did they really need to do a study to know that the guy texting away on his Blackberry in the middle of “Atonement” doesn’t really give a shit that he is distracting me from a spectacular film experience. Sure, he’s not talking, but I cannot concentrate on James McAvoy’s intensity with that little screen glowing to my right like a hole in the universe sucking every ounce of sexually charged air right out of the theater.

Did they really need a study to tell them that the people toting their Powerbooks around like newborns, Bluetooth earpieces making them look like half cyber-Spock, half human, while they appear to converse with the trees outside Starbucks, are probably not the most humble among us?

The study found that those who rated highly in assertiveness were 62 percent more likely to buy the latest model of a cell phone when it hits the market. Uh huh. And from this sort of data, they extrapolated that “those who are really assertive are the types to grab life by the horn” and that “when they see something they want or like, they go straight for it.” How much money was spent on this study?

Does all this embracing of the wonders of technology really equate with arrogance as the study concluded? (“Avid tech consumers were also likely to be low on modesty and may be perceived as conceited or arrogant.”) Or are they just basing their findings on having seen one too many Mac vs. PC ad? (I am beginning to feel a little sorry for PC at this point. Come on, Mac guy. Lay off already. It’s clear that PC is not as cool or clever as you are. You’re kind of becoming a bully.)

Could it simply be that those of us who have maxed out the icons in our dock or have stopped into the Apple store at least ten times to ask if the new iPhone is in yet are just eager adventurers on the technology highway of life? Wouldn’t Lewis and Clark have been the first guys to own a Garmin had it been available in 1804?

Our household has purchased three Mac laptops in the last six months. And we’re waiting anxiously for July 11 when the new 3G iPhone hits stores. What a bunch of insufferable ***holes we are.

Just Say Om

Some in the Hindu community have their saris in a twist over the upcoming Mike Myers comedy The Love Guru. There have been calls for a boycott of the film, which features Myers as Guru Pitka, a spiritual teacher with an arsenal of bad acronyms and a deep desire for enlightenment and Mariska Hargitay.

Real-life spiritual mentor Deepak Chopra, who makes an appearance in the film (and who is currently promoting a new book, Why Is God Laughing?), made a statement telling the reactionary Guru bashers, "it's a sign that your faith has become a cover up for all your insecurities because you can't even take a joke. Mike is bringing attention to some very profound truths (and my book) and these people haven't even seen the movie."

With that controversy laid to rest, we can concentrate on deeper questions like where did Deepak Chopra get those fabulous red glasses he’s been sporting in his lectures of late, and is he somehow spiritually in touch with Liberace?

Tina Fey, Will You Be My New BFF?

When my best friends in high school decided to try out for cheerleading, I knew things were about to get ugly. But I wasn’t prepared for how ugly. It took about one day from the moment they saw their names on the squad list for them to decide they needed to rethink their social network. If we’d had cell phones then, I would have been purged from their Five. That’s when I started reading Ayn Rand and cutting my own hair. I might have been spared many embarrassing moments trying to prove I was a non-cheerleader by choice if I’d had a friend like Tina Fey.

Now that she’s responsible for one of television’s top-rated comedies with “30 Rock,” star of a No. 1 movie “Baby Mama,” not to mention former head writer of SNL, I guess we’re past the stage of getting together to watch “Love Boat” and eat Rocky Road straight from the carton. But, Tina, if you’re ever in San Francisco and just want to get together to play Scrabble and gloat over how much better our lives turned out than those of our former cheerleading friends (especially yours), I’m available. But not in a creepy, "I know your favorite color and your first pet’s name" kind of way. Just in an "I totally get sandwich day" kind of way. Call me.

Government Says Blind People Have Gotten Along Fine So Far

Blind people can’t tell whether they’re handing over a five or a twenty when they pay for a bottle of Frederic Fekkai shampoo. Actually, they can’t be sure that’s Frederic Fekkai and not Suave. But U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit only addressed the money issue in its ruling today that says the U.S. discriminates against blind people with paper currency that offers no way for them to distinguish the bill’s value. The ruling in favor of the American Council for the Blind ended a nearly six-year battle for the rights of the visually, but not shopping impaired.

The U.S. government had argued that blind people have adapted and should simply continue to rely on the honesty of the store clerk or a fellow patron to tell them which bill to fork over. What a great idea. Because we all know that the guy selling Cheetos and Big-Gulps for eight hours a day, who then goes home to play GTA4 for the remaining sixteen, would never take advantage of a person who might inadvertently pull out a Benjamin when a single would suffice.

The government also praised the resourcefulness of blind people, many of whom have created their own systems for distinguishing bills, like folding or tearing the corners. I guess blind people should see it as an opportunity to sharpen their magic skills. Following that logic, why should we bother with all those accessibility rules? Just let those ingenuitive paraplegics figure out how to get up the steps on their own. It will toughen them up.

Good, Bad, WTF: An Educational Guide To Grad Gifting

College graduation is upon us and you’re wondering what to get for that special young achiever in your life. You need something that says, “Congratulations. Get ready to work your ass off.”

Before you pull out your credit card, a few words to the wise regarding some popular gift ideas.

A weekend in Vegas: Do you really want to be responsible for what stays in Vegas?

A car: How will he get motivated to go to a soul-crushing job every day if he thinks cars just appear in the driveway?

A Pen Set: This gift hasn’t been good since 1959. A simple Rollerball with gel grip does the job just as well for a lot less money and she won’t feel guilty when she loses it.

Gym Membership: This gift says, “Way to go! You made it through college, now get ready to sit behind a desk and pack on the pounds.”

Cash: You can never really go wrong with cash, except at college graduation. This gift says, “You just achieved one of life’s major milestones, and I was too lazy to get so much as a gift certificate, a variety of which are readily available at the supermarket I pass through several times a week.”

The X-Rocker Home Theater Floor Chair from Brookstone:
He’s seen his last kegger. He’s ready for furniture that puts a couple feet between him and the floor.

A Tie: You cheap, uninspired bastard.

Jewelry:
It had better be from the fine jewelry department and fall into the category of keepsake. Think precious metals, pearls and gemstones. Tip: Anything in a Tiffany box.

Six-Pack: Unless you’re graduating with the recipient, um, no.Even if it’s the world’s largest six-pack, still no.

Golf Club Drink Dispenser:
Perfect for the business grad. A little schmoozing and boozing on the back nine and your graduate will be prepared to navigate even the messiest scandal.

It’s 5:00 Somewhere Neon Sculpture:
What a great way to say, “Welcome to the 9 to 5!"

IPod Touch: Excellent choice (and not just because I want my Apple shares to go up).


Google Stock: Boring, but he’ll thank the hell out of you in a few years if he doesn’t sell it to buy a flat screen TV first.

Flat Screen TV: What size?

Eurail Pass: Make sure he hasn’t already accepted a great job that, when he comes back three months later, unshaven, stinking of hash and Nutella, will have been given to his college roommate who’s moved to the city, leaving him with no place to stay but your couch.

A Chess Set: Classy. Intelligent. Lasting. As long as the pieces aren’t shot glasses.

Barenaked Ladies: Something For The Kids

Is it just me, or is there something a little wrong about a band named Barenaked Ladies putting out a children’s album called Snacktime!? How many ways might this warp a young child’s perception of both ladies and snacktime? Will they demand their teachers bring out juice boxes wearing nothing but a few strategically placed gold stars?

What happens when they realize these Barenaked Ladies are actually a bunch of hairy Canadian dudes?

Then there’s the content of the songs. “Raisins come from grapes. People come from apes. I come from Canada.” Do these guys think with a little clever wordplay and a jaunty melody they can slip under the radar of the folks at the Intelligent Design Network? Anyone can see a raisin is not a grape. I don’t care what all that science says.

And what about an alphabet song that teaches kids J is for jalapeño? We teach our kids English here in America, eh. J is for jet fighter pilot, jock, Jell-o and justice for all.

In “The Canadian Snacktime Trilogy” Barenaked Canadian dudes invite your child to “walk me down to Vegetable Town where we can ride the zucchini subway.” There’s a sure way to get an entire generation to trade vegetables for Cheezies and Molson.

But just when you think Snacktime! is all left-wing propaganda in the guise of silly songs, they go and slip in an anti-transexual tune. “I like my big sister, but I don’t want to wear her coat,” vocalist Ed Robertson sings in “My Big Sister.” “May be black. May fit perfect. But you and I both know it’s a girl’s coat.”

Just exactly what is their game?

Smokey Says, "Go Easy On The Lighter Fluid"

With barbecue season officially underway, it’s time for a little common sense reminder. Don't put the barbecue right next to the house. This goes double if you live if you live in an apartment because there are all those other apartments adjacent to yours and the whole thing is likely to go up like a Chinese fireworks factory.

Some cook-out enthusiasts in Sunnyvale, CA learned that lesson the hard way this weekend when their balcony weenie roast turned into a three-alarm fire seriously damaging all eighteen apartments in their building. Their neighbors are really pissed. Not only do they have to find a new place to live, but they weren't even invited to the party.

Don’t Talk To Strangers While Shopping

They’ll talk you into buying these shoes.

Unless you are over 50, unnaturally tan, and live in Palm Springs, you have no business putting these on your feet. I am none of the above and yet this frightening use of synthetic fur wound up in my closet. They screamed at me from the shelf at DSW when I was in a vulnerable state. They looked cheerful and fun. Why not just try them on? The fact that the toe is tapered to a point so severe even an elf couldn’t wear them, might have deterred me had a pair of strangers not happened by at the moment I was cringing in front of the mirror. “Oh my God, those are so cute! Where did you find them?” I pointed to the stack of satan’s footwear. “You’ve got to get those,” they gushed.

It wasn’t until a week later, when I unpacked at a hotel 500 miles from home, running late for a Bar Mitzvah in Los Angeles, that I realized just how evil those women were.

“You cannot wear those cougar shoes,” my son said. And by cougar, he was not referring to the animal print. The only other shoes I had with me were my utilitarian brown Clarks, just this side of lesbian loafers. I wore the cougar shoes.

All day long, I was sure people were staring at my feet and wondering why such a young, beautiful woman would want to look like Angie Dickinson at a Chippendales party. On top of that insult, by the time we left I was in such pain, I could barely toddle to the car.

These shoes are too offending to even put in my thrift store pile. I’ll have to find a special use for them. Planter? Doorstop? Lamp base? Dog chew? Maybe I should send them to Iran along with a case of Barbie dolls.

Extreme Green

The "Daily Insight" newsletter from Yoga Journal arrived in my inbox this morning urging me to deepen my commitment to the environment. Try these tips, it cheerfully suggested. "Save 700 tons of carbon emissions per year by line-drying your clothes instead of using the dryer."

You mean live like a polygamy bride in Texas? I don’t think so. Besides, every time I try air drying clothes, they end up looking like they’ve been stored in a coffee can. That means ironing. Lots of it. Kind of negates the dryer savings.

I particularly like their next suggestion. “Generate your own electricity by purchasing a Human Power Generator, a stationary-bike-style contraption that allows you to supplement your electricity with your own sweat!”

I guess the exclamation point is supposed to say, "wow, that sounds like fun!" Hey, maybe you could get a few of those bikes and power the whole house. You could recruit a couple of neighbor kids. Start your own green child labor camp. It’s all for a good cause. You’re helping the environment and fighting childhood obesity. Everybody wins.

I can't wait to see the new Michael Graves line of washboards at Target.