Spring has sprung. This year it commenced with a Seder - a ceremo-nial dinner marking the beginning of Passover.
You could probably feed the world's hungry for a year with the advertising budget Cingular Wireless has unleashed on TV Land in recent weeks.
Trudging homeward, I was just past the house with the knight's armor on the lawn, not yet to the gully of soiled mattresses.
MTV's "Undressed," now in its fourth season, is administered in 30-minute doses, each tracing three or four unrelated, non-overlapping plot lines.
My acquaintance leaned to me and conspired, "I feel like we're fo-xes in the hen-house." Her, a Naderite, and myself, a Libertarian, sat within the guarded confines of the inner sanctum, stage right, at the Texas Inaugural Ball (thanks to a well-connected friend) - directly astride Bruce Cheney's box (which he occupied for zero seconds). All the stars were there: Dixie Carter, the oldest Judd, Kelsey Grammar, Ben Stein.
Whitman wrote, "the game of ball is glorious." It teaches, revives, placates, unifies. It frames life.
I demand QualChoice contraceptive coverage. In case you're a stupid caveman or an ignorant Christian, here's the deal.
I've been pegged as a cynic too many times lately - an appellation met with skepticism and scorn, followed by sneering.
Contrary to the popular and inane aphorism, money is not the root of all evil. Evil made that up, because it knew it would work.
Welcome to the Idiot's Guide to American Politics. And by "idiot's" I don't mean for idiots. I mean by one. My political theory library includes four volumes, and three of them are Machiavelli's The Prince.
