Best Colleges 2009

US News and World Report came out with its rankings of Best Colleges for 2009. In the "national universities" section, here is the list:

1. Harvard University (Cambridge, Mass.)

2. Princeton University (Princeton, N.J.)

3. Yale University (New Haven, Conn.)

4. Massachusetts Institute of Technology (Cambridge, Mass.)

(tie)4. Stanford University (Stanford, Calif.)

(tie) 6. California Institute of Technology (Pasadena, Calif.)

(tie) 6. University of Pennsylvania (Philadelphia, Pa.)

(tie) 8. Columbia University (New York, N.Y.) (tie)

8. Duke University (Durham, N.C.)

(tie) 8. University of Chicago (Chicago, Ill.)

(tie) 11. Dartmouth College (Hanover, N.H.)

12. Northwestern University (Evanston, Ill.)

(tie) 12. Washington University (St. Louis, Mo.) (tie)

14. Cornell University (Ithaca, N.Y.)

15. Johns Hopkins University (Baltimore, Md.)

16. Brown University (Providence, R.I.)

17. Rice University (Houston, Texas)

18. Emory University (Atlanta, Ga.)

(tie) 18. University of Notre Dame (Notre Dame, Ind.)

(tie) 18. Vanderbilt University (Nashville, Tenn.)

(tie) 21. University of California -- Berkeley (Berkeley, Calif.)

22. Carnegie Mellon University (Pittsburgh, Pa.)

23. Georgetown University (Washington, D.C.)

(tie) 23. University of Virginia (Charlottesville, Va.)

(tie) 25. University of California -- Los Angeles (Los Angeles, Calif.)

Not one of these schools has a football team worth walking across the street to watch. Not one, did you hear me Notre Dame and UCLA? What are you supposed to do on Saturday before you play quarters? I grant you UCLA, Stanford and Georgetown have good basketball programs, but, meh. And, not one of these schools (except UCLA) can boast any "scenery." Who are the three most famous Harvard women? Gertrude Stein, Janet Reno, and chalkboard-scratchingly irritating Ali McGraw in Love Story. What's a pretty girl on the Rice campus? A lost jogger, or a tourist. These are important things in deciding where to go to school, you know.

My own personal top 5 national universities:

1. Texas

2. LSU

3. Florida State

4. Louisiana-Lafayette

5. Alabama/Ole Miss (tie)

Daily Affirmations Turns One

Fred: You think wedding vows are going to change everything? God, your naivete is astounding! Didn't you see "The Graduate"?
Ted: You can remember "The Graduate"?
Fred: Yeah, I can remember a few things. Apparently you don't. The end? Katharine Ross has just married this really cool guy - tall, blond, incredibly popular, the make-out king of his fraternity in Berkeley - when this obnoxious Dustin Hoffman character shows up at the back of the church, acting like a total asshole. "Elaine! Elaine!" Does Katharine Ross tell Dustin Hoffman, "Get lost, creep. I'm a married woman"? No. She runs off with him - on a bus. That is the reality.

--Barcelona (1994)

Daily Affirmations with Chris Reeder is now exactly one year old today, and this will celebrate that birthday, and the fact that there’ve been exactly 100 posts (this is #101, which is sort of like celebrating your 40th birthday on your 41st-it makes no sense but at some point people quit counting). Rather than doing some sitcom-like review of the blog’s greatest hits, the DA staff thought it would be interesting to interview the writer, editor, and publisher, no its not Richard Marx, its Chris Reeder. We managed to catch up with him for an interview while he was between Three’s Company episodes on the TV.com channel.

Daily Affirmations: First off, congratulations on the 100th post and the year of fun on the blog. What has blogging meant to you?

Chris Reeder: Thanks alter ego. Well, its been a great chance to help the kids out there, and everyone else, by providing a positive, community-oriented message in these days where we’re deluged with negative and destructive images. It gives me a real sense of fulfillment knowing that I can help so many people by sharing my experiences and the lessons they’ve taught me. Uh, by the way, you need to stop making direct eye contact. And I don’t expect my drink’s going to refill itself now, is it?

DA: What gave you the inspiration to start the blog?

CR: It started as a means of describing my trip to Seattle, without having to tell the same stories 20 different times. “Read my blog, peace out” had a lot more appeal to it than telling the same 15 minute story over and over and over. I had previously written descriptions of my trips to New Zealand and Western Canada that people seemed to like (actually, by "people" I mean Danny Bivens, so that may not have been the most reliable indicator). Anyway, those had been fun to write, so I thought, why not enter the modern age and blog, just like the kids?

DA: Where does the name “Daily Affirmations with Chris Reeder” come from?

CR: Sacrilege! Have you not seen Stuart Smalley? That’s back when more than 10 people were interested in listening to Al Franken.

DA: What have been some your more successful posts?

CR: They’ve all been successful. What do you mean? Actually, my favorite was the Daily Affirmation Skills Inventory for Men. The one for Mom’s birthday was the best one though.

DA: What were some posts that you think didn’t work as well as you hoped?

CR: The one about Mike Gundy didn’t work too well. It was supposed to be part one of a two-parter. The first part talked about how failure is good, and the second part was going to talk about how parents are making it impossible for their kids to go through the humbling childhood experiences and failures that build character and provide wisdom. Without the second part, the first part just seemed like some tweaked-out philosophy professor guest hosting the Art Bell show. I also should have expanded the one where I talked about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Madonna being in it. I may do that in the future.

DA: What kind of feedback have you received about the blog?

CR: Mom liked it. I get these messages from time to time that people are reading, but no one submits comments anymore. I guess its kind of like People magazine or the Enquirer-lots of people read but no one will publicly admit to it.

DA: Where do you get the ideas for posts?

CR: My innate brilliance just churns out exciting and provocative subjects every day. That, and I’ll just read or hear things. I listen to far too much sports talk radio and skim far too many news sites looking at headlines.

DA: How do you go about writing?

CR: I have this thing called a pen (for those of you under 30, that’s this narrow device with this indelible liquid called “ink” which leaves a permanent stain on paper when you press down on it). I use said “pen” to outline my thoughts, usually on a scrap piece of paper or envelope that may or may not have chicken crumbs or grease stains on it. Then I type it in word, then cut and paste into the blog, then try to add as many internet links as I can before I get totally bored or start falling asleep. When on a trip, I actually keep a little spiral notebook in which I take notes on things I'm seeing. Doing the blog has really affected how I enjoy travel. Before, I just sort of took in the entirety of the experience. Now, I notice little details that add color. I'm not really a good enough writer to convey the quality of a band at a performance, for example, but I can write two paragraphs on the old guy 10 feet from the stage wearing a tye-dye shirt and a diaper and dancing with a hula hoop. I’m sure teenage girls have observed me writing my notes and said to one another, “look at that old man writing notes, that’s just soooo precious! My grandfather used to do that!”

DA: Has anyone ever gotten mad or upset about something you’ve written?

CR: Yes. Thus prompting a disclaimer post that I wrote several months ago. Once again, just in case there’s any doubt, I don’t write about any of you and I don’t write with any of you in mind. Get over yourselves-if I was interested enough to write about you, I’d probably have made a point of actually talking to you.

DA: We notice you make a lot of references to 1960s and 70s television shows and movies. What is it about those shows that you find compelling?

CR: To me, those shows reflect the good old days. You know, where the man wears a suit all day, comes home to perfectly behaved kids and an immaculate house that never seems to need maintenance (or if it does, you just call the neighborhood handyman who does it with a smile), and a beautiful wife ready to fulfill his every wish without a single thought of putting herself before her kids or her man. And who wears pearls while she vacuums the den. Too bad life was in black and white back then.

DA: So who’s more powerful, Jeannie or Samantha?

CR: I think the more important question is who’s hotter, and no question, its Jeannie. She always wears see through pants and a belly outfit, doesn’t have creepy uncle Paul Lynde showing up all the time, goes home at night to her own bottle, rolls with Phil Spector , and calls you “Master.” Now that’s what I call working the inside part of the plate.

DA: You seem to know an awful lot about musicals, as well as the movie Top Gun. What’s up with that?

CR: What have you heard? I mean, its not true. I mean, what are you getting at?

DA: You spend a lot of time talking about obscure music on the blog. What are you hoping to accomplish with that?

CR: I guess there I’m talking to myself, but I really like classic rock (or as Michael Beaudo puts it, “classical rock”). I’ve always thought music adds a certain color to life; its an art form you don’t have to go to a museum or gallery to appreciate, and it conveys emotions that mere words are often inadequate to capture. Good food, good music, dancing, compelling sports events, stimulating conversation…these all give color and texture to an otherwise blank canvas world. Plus, sometimes its just fun to rock out.

DA: Beatles or the Stones?

CR: I am the walrus.

DA: Let’s talk a bit about the links. What are you hoping to accomplish with the selected links?

CR: Just things that interest me, and I’m hoping will interest you.

DA: Who has influenced your writing style?

CR: No one. I just kind of write what I hear one of the dozens of voices in my head says. Then I try to change passive to active voice and minimize prepositions.

DA: Some people say you don’t like or approve of marriage, and some of your posts, and even the quote that has opened this post, seem anti-marriage. Is that true?

CR: This represents the one real mistake I’ve made in this blog, making people think that. Well, that and droning on about the brilliance of the 57th chanky-chank band for the day at Jazz Festival. For the record, not only do I not disapprove of marriage, I greatly value it. That’s why I’ve been so cautious to marry the “right” person. When I see married people doing and saying some of the things I’ve discussed, it makes me wonder aloud “what’s up?” I should have made it more clear that I was wondering how do people make it work, not why do people go to the trouble in the first place. Then again, if you can’t take a joke, beat it.

DA: Do you read other blogs, and what do you think of them?

CR: Just those of some friends. They’re pretty good. I’ve seen others. They’re sort of like people whining about stupid crap. “Why won’t X call me?” “When will I get a job?” “Why am I the dullest freaking person in the entire world?”

DA: What are some upcoming posts?

CR: I need to do a request posting on why Obama is the most dangerous man in America. Then I want to preview the Argentina trip, then postings from Argentina. On a more long-term front, I want to try to do more frequent posts, but of shorter length.

DA: What’s next for Chris Reeder?

CR: I’ll be heading over to the Australian and Hawaiian internationals, and then me and Mick are going to wing on over to London and jam with the Stones.

DA: Is there anything else you want to add?

CR: As long as we’re in a Fast Times at Ridgemont High mode, how about Damone’s five rules for men dating:

1. Never let on how much you like a girl. “Oh, Debbie [Harry], hi.”
2. You always call the shots. "Kiss me. You won't regret it."
3. Act like wherever you are, that's the place to be. "Isn't this great?"
4. When ordering food, you find out what she wants, then order for the both of you. It's a classy move. "Now, the lady will have the linguini and white clam sauce, and a Coke with no ice."
5. “Now this is the most important, Rat. When it comes down to making out, whenever possible, put on side one of Led Zeppelin IV.”

Amen, brother.

For those that never actually had that album in the pre-CD era to know what is on “side one,” that consists of Black Dog, Rock and Roll, Battle of Evermore, and Stairway to Heaven.

Oh, and for future reference, now that I’ve turned 44, most days I feel like this guy.

Birthday XLIV

Birthday XLIV (I’ve decided to start using roman numerals for my birthdays, sort of like for the Super Bowl, or Popes) was, all in all, a success. There was no body count, no illness, no family drama, no shots fired, and no voodoo curses (to my knowledge). At this stage in life, that counts as a good birthday. You can see the pictures on my flickr site.

Friday morning, Dad and I took our Sanford and Son routine on the road, driving to New Orleans to watch Ron perform in another play. En route we stopped at the famous Poche’s in Breaux Bridge, where I had a plate lunch of crawfish etouffee, fried catfish, and French fries. That’s what Cajuns call a “balanced meal.” We checked in at the Navy Lodge at the New Orleans naval base that afternoon. I ran at the base’s track before we left for Ron’s show. And by “ran” I mean I tried to get my heart rate high enough to get some aerobic benefit, but low enough not to completely hurl all the fat and grease still oozing its way through my bloodstream on its way to the carotid artery, where it most likely is forming a beaver dam-like clot. Ron was starring in yet another Cripple Creek Theatre Company production, Enemy of the People, written by Henrik Ibsen and as adapted by Arthur Miller. Ron played the “protect local economic interests at all costs” mayor in the play, and to my biased and uninformed taste, did an excellent job. While sadly there were no graphic fruit sex displays, as in his last show, we did get an on-stage mob of proverbial angry villagers with pitchforks—basically a recreation of a PUC transmission line hearing. After the show we took pictures on set (see above), and then enjoyed a surprisingly good meal at Trolley Stop Café. Half the café customers were police-which as you’ll recall is a sure sign of a great restaurant. It was, thereby proving the theory again.

Dad somehow kept his snoring to a minimum (knowing my father’s snoring patterns is not exactly the sort of information I pictured myself having at this age), and we were able to head back to Houston the next morning. Thanks to Baton Rouge traffic and construction after Lake Charles, we were able to make the normal five hour journey back home in a mere eight hours. That was pretty awesome. Sunday was something of a down day-I did a nine-mile run at Memorial Park without collapsing or catching fire in the heat.

Monday I worked in my firm’s Houston office, then met the family at Star Pizza for some really great deep dish pizza and present opening before heading to Minute Maid Park to watch the Astros-Giants game. We had great seats behind home plate, thanks to Michelle, and everyone had a lot of fun.

Tuesday I took the day off and used it to come back to Austin and spend the day running errands. Tuesday night was the long-awaited Buck Owens Birthday Show at the Continental Club. About seven or eight folks showed up at my behest, once again proving the cultural force that is Daily Affirmations with Chris Reeder (the club was largely crowded). Numerous musicians swapped in and out on stage, each singing one or two Buck Owens songs. All in all it was a great show and everyone seemed to have a fine time (I'm bad at spotting the comics-like thought bubble over people's heads that say "note to self, decline future Chris Reeder social invitations.").

Thanks to everyone who was involved in Birthday XLIV, sent cards or presents, or sent their birthday wishes. I was very happy to hear from each of you.

Next--100 Posts

Isaac Hayes

These things come in threes:

Bobby Murcer

Bernie Mac

Isaac Hayes

I guess four if you count Estelle Getty.

Isaac Hayes was one of the groundbreakers in the 1960s and early 1970s R&B and soul scene. He worked first at the old Stax/Volt label writing and arranging some of that label's greatest hits. Then he went on to a fairly compelling solo career. He and Curtis Mayfield wrote two of the really breakthrough movie scores of the 1970s, Hayes with Shaft, and Mayfield with Superfly. These went beyond the borderline "blaxploitation" films they were probably intended to be, and opened up new opportunities for greater diversity in this area. His Oscar for "Shaft" was the first Academy Award for an African-American in a non-acting category.

Then there's Chef. I thought his South Park character was a send-up of his earlier career, until I saw him perform live and realized every one of his songs is just like something he sang on South Park. He closed the last day of Jazz Festival three years ago, going about half an hour late due to equipment problems. "Shaft," his closer, was mesmerizing. Everyone got just as big a kick, though, when he sang "Chocolate Salty Balls" from South Park.

So, farewell Chef.

One More Sign the End is Near

Rumer Willis was a guest on David Letterman tonight.

What, none of Angelina Jolie's 23 kids returned your calls Dave? Ally Lohan was busy?

Nicole Richie can't figure out why anyone would be interested in Rumer Willis.

I don't know what saddens me more, that Dave would put her on, or that we live in a world that would make him do that.

Dive Restaurants

To eat good food is to be close to God.
Primo, "Big Night"


Two of the most real moments I've ever seen in performances were, of all things, in cartoons. One was the candlelight spaghetti-strand kiss in Lady and the Tramp; the other was the moment the curmudgeonly food critic tasted his first bite in Ratatouille. Everyone knows the former scene (if you don't, I feel embarrassed for you). In the latter, the unapologetically abhorrent and faulting food critic, Anton Ego, tastes the ratatouille, which immediately and vividly conjures a time in his childhood eating his mother's ratatouille. What do these moments have in common? Food. Good food.

(Actually, the Rocky and Bullwinkle episode where Bullwinkle becomes a football star at Wossamatta U. was pretty real too but it doesn't fit my motif).

How many of the great moments in life are spent over a big meal, surrounded by friends or family? We celebrate the most personal and meaningful holidays every year with a meal, usually laboriously and carefully prepared. The biggest and most memorable occasions in life often are observed over a meal-weddings, graduations, partings. We often welcome new neighbors with food; when loved ones pass away, we bring their family food. To extend an invitation to a meal in one's home or under one's auspices implicitly conveys an message of friendship or respect. The memories of food at these kinds of meals are among the most vivid and longest lasting. I can still savor the taste of my Grandma's fried chicken, more than thirty years since she last served it to me. The food inevitably is good at these meals, often because of the cooking, but more often because it was made with love. Those who think of food as just something to wolf down or to graze on during the game truly miss one of life's most rewarding pleasures.

I live in a town with dozens of fantastic restaurants, yet I often see a crowd of people standing outside the Olive Garden waiting for a table. Frankly, that is obscene. No chain restaurant, with frozen, pre-packaged servings, indifferent cooks and servers, trying to serve the most people in the least time, can ever compete with a restaurant where the owner works every day, whose livelihood depends on serving patrons the finest meals he or she can. Not even the recent spate of so-called "upscale" chains, with their sleek trappings of cool iconography, can possibly replace the owner making your meal or coming to your table to solicit your reaction and ask how things could be made better. Just as strongly as I remember my Grandma's fried chicken, I equally remember meals growing up in Houston at the San Jacinto Inn, the Log Cabin, Christie's, the old Jimmie Walker's (not the foul, corporate-owned Fertitta enterprise that bought the name and location), or Valian's near the Medical Center. The food was (or could be) memorable, you always met the owner, his family worked in the restaurant, customers would return over and over again, and you knew that the food you were eating was fresh, made and served with care, and represented the best the owners could provide. And if there was a rare screw-up, the owner and server would make it right. (Cue the Monty Python "Dirty Fork" sketch).

"Nice restaurants" can and do serve good food. English adjectives cannot capture the satisfaction of my meal at French Laundry with Kimberly and Terry. Unfortunately, you often need to take a magnifying glass or Mars Rover with you to locate the food on your plate. Sometimes you need a copy of Audobon to identify it. Dark places like that are often fantastic (I look better in the dark). But if you want really good food, look for a "dive." Signs of a place that serves fantastic food: a parking lot with trucks or police cars, not next to a freeway (in an urban area), advertises the name of the owner (even has pictures of their family on display in the restaurant), the parking lot is bigger than the actual restaurant, staff is actually interested in welcoming and helping you (don't have that deadened Blockbuster clerk stupor) and it doesn't look like any designer or consultant ever went near the place (except to eat). No chain can ever qualify as a dive restaurant that serves great food (maybe a localized chain, but no Bennigan's).

With all that hoo-rah in mind, here is my personal list of great "dive" restaurants. I've eaten at each, and each one meets the criteria I've laid out. Sorry I'm too lazy to embed links. There's no particular order here. Any town without a state mentioned is in Texas. Mostly these are places in Texas and Louisiana-others I've visited on vacation I either can't remember the name or couldn't find it on the internet.

If you know of a place like these that I haven't mentioned, please share it by posting a comment.

Sam's-Fairfield
Jax Restaurant-Houston
Rajun Cajun-Houston
Dot's-Austin (Oh my God best in Austin, open for lunch only)
Hoover's Cooking-Austin
Hill's-Austin
Threadgill's-Austin (bronzed catfish; chicken fried steak)
Texas Chili Parlor-Austin (Frito Pie-amazing)
Otto's-Houston (barbecue favorite of Bush 41)
Leo's-Houston (old-time Mexican)
Joe's Bakery-Austin
Nuevo Leon-Austin
El Patio-Austin (totopos-spanish for "sudden cardiac arrest")
Blanco Cafe-San Antonio (Mexican bakery next door)
Josephine Street Cafe-San Antonio (old house with crooked floor; "steaks and whisky" sign on window)
Bee's-San Antonio
George's-Waco (home of the "Big O")
Elite Cafe-Waco (on the Circle)
Al-T's-Winnie
Tamale Co.-Beaumont
Hill Country Cupboard-Johnson City
Joe T. Garcia's-Fort Worth
Paris Coffee Shop-Fort Worth (incredible breakfasts)
Nau's Enfield Drug-Austin
Salt Lick BBQ-Driftwood
Bluebonnet Cafe-Marble Falls (the second best pie anywhere)
Louie Mueller's BBQ-Taylor
Kreuz's Market BBQ-Lockhart
Dart Bowl-Austin (stacked enchiladas)
Buffalo Grille-Houston (breakfast)
Snuffer's-Dallas (cheese fries)
Johnny Cace's-Longview
Wuenche Bros. Saloon-Spring
El Napalito-Galveston
La Hacienda-El Paso (right on the Rio Grande)
Water Street Seafood-Corpus Christi
TK's-Bay City
Cafe Pasqual's-Santa Fe, NM (mexican hot chocolate)
Lee-J's-Pineville, LA
Middendorf's-Akers, LA (outstanding fried catfish)
Mosca's-Avondale, LA
Deanie's Seafood-New Orleans, LA
Acme Oyster House-New Orleans, LA
Poche's-Breaux Bridge, LA
Darrell's-Lake Charles, LA
Black's-Abbeville, LA
Gator Cove-Lafayette, LA (boiled shrimp, crab, crawfish)
Camellia Grill-New Orleans, LA (late night)
Mariner's-Natchitoches, LA
Gerald Savoie's-Shreveport, LA
Suburban Gardens-Alexandria, LA (incredible Italian, where the waitresses, generally all over 60, call you "baby")
Monjuni's-Shreveport, LA
Pike Place Market (virtually anywhere inside)-Seattle, WA
Pagliacci Pizza-Seattle, WA (Broadway location)
Cajun Bar and Grill-Concrete, WA
Zachary's Pizza-Berkeley, CA
Swan's Oyster Depot-San Francisco, CA
Cook's Lobster House-Bailey Island, ME

Honorable mention:
Weikel's Bakery-LaGrange (kolaches/cinnamon rolls)
House of Pies-Houston
Mrs. Johnson's Donuts-Austin
Borden's Ice Cream Shop-Lafayette, LA
Top Pot Donuts-Seattle, WA
Lasoyne's Meat Pies-Natchitoches, LA

Olympic Fever-Catch It!

Gerald: Oh, it's not going to be easy. My brother and I know. Men have never done synchronized swimming in a sanctioned competition in this country. Officially, it's got like a zero acceptance rate.

Lawrence: I don't swim.

Gerald: Lawrence doesn't swim. So.. I mean, no, of course not.. no one's going to just walk up and hand us a gold medal. Men's syncro isn't even in the '88 Olympics yet.

Lawrence: That's okay, because we could use the time. 'Cause I'm not.. I'm not that strong a swimmer.

Gerald: But I mean, that just means, you know, for '92, we're a lock for the gold.

Harry Shearer and Martin Short, Men's Synchronized Swimming sketch, SNL

I'm sorry this has been so long in coming (that's what she said), but I've been pretty overwhelmed with work and sitting around watching TV, so I've been neglecting the ones and ones of you who visit this site once or twice a year. I'll try to spend more time on the blog in the future.

For now though, its that time again and excitement is palpable. Another Olympic games is on the extremely polluted horizon. This is a special time, when millions of American women and exactly 14 men stop watching Oprah and instead watch the Olympics. You know, the every other year sports extravaganza where athletes no one has ever heard of suddenly become Symbols Of Our Nation and the standard bearers of the American Dream. All in the midst of the other inferior countries who clearly fail to measure up. It used to be every four years but people tended to forget about them in between Olympics, kind of like how the Sopranos’ hiatus used to last five times longer than the actual season. The ratings for this thing remain huge, but hey, America’s Funniest Home Videos gets great ratings too so what does that tell you?

Lets just get this on the table: the Olympics should be crushed into a tiny little box at the salvage yard like Jules’ and Vincent’s car in Pulp Fiction, and dropped into Lake Erie to be eaten slowly by those zebra mussels that are slowly killing the Great Lakes. Bad enough that they squander billions in countries that have far better uses for it than building ice rinks and pelotons, and I can overlook the unabashed corruption and nationalist feeding frenzy it stokes, but people, the Olympics represent the pinnacle in everything that’s wrong with both sports and television. That’s crossover star power that would impress even Bo and Deion. I should say, the amount of fact checking in this post is virtually non-existent. If I think something is true, then it must be true.

The best place to start is with the institution of the Olympics themselves. Other than the Cosa Nostra, never has there been a more untouchable gang of self-aggrandizing thugs than the International Olympic Committee. While they invoke the mantra of some ephemeral Olympic “movement,” the truth is that the IOC just puts on a show every two years. They talk some sucker city or country into paying all the costs while the IOC reaps billions in corporate sponsorships, advertising revenue, broadcast licensing, and the members make out like bandits on out-and-out bribes from the bidders. Few Olympics ever turn a profit for the host, and often it leaves the host country in debt for decades to come. Yet for some reason, cities and countries all over the world fall all over themselves to bribe the IOC selection committees just for the chance. Hell, Denver had to bail out of the 1976 Winter Olympics the costs got so out of control and it took them forever to pay off the costs of not having the Olympics. Athens spent so much money actually building all the required facilities they cannot pay to maintain them after the games. The IOC largely operates in the shadowy world of “international law,” generally beyond any particular country’s legal institutions. Only the individual members’ sense of shame acts to curtail rampant and widespread corruption. To add some vestige of legitimacy, it operates something called the Court of Arbitration for Sports, which has a lot in common with the Soviet show trials.

These people's insufferability is remarkable. They view themselves as some sort of legitimate world institution capable of bringing hostile governments together, healing the sick, ending wars. In short, they think they’re Jesse Jackson. Juan Antonio Samaranch, former Boss of the IOC, used to demand that he be addressed as “His Excellency.” I don’t even think John Gotti had that kind of stroke. In reality, about all they’re capable of is draining the host country of a few billion, leaving a generation of illiterate kids, potholed roads, and festering public works the country can no longer afford to fix. They make billions while our discus throwers have to work at Home Depot. I will say this in defense of the IOC; at least they let the athletes earn money. Hey NCAA, you're not even as fair to your athletes as the IOC. How does that taste?

Then there’s the ridiculous nature of the actual games themselves. Synchronized swimming, really? Ping-pong? Rhythmic gymnastics? Curling? Really, curling? We’re supposed to get all fired up and wave the flag for a cross between shuffleboard on ice and sweeping the back patio? I mean, why not darts or making balloon animals (at least you could combine those sports). Olympic sports have proliferated like college bowl games or cellulite on Britney Spears, and most have just about as much value. Why? To sell more tickets (witness: stampede in Beijing to get tickets) and to increase the hours available to sell to television. With all these games, though, there’s apparently no room for baseball or softball after these Olympics. I’m sure its just a mere coincidence that those are sports in which the United States would do well. What is the IOC inserting in their place? Rugby. You can also now decide to be on whatever team you like. For eligibility to be on a nation’s team, the IOC requires that you be either a citizen or your parents or grandparents had been born in that country. To get around those onerous requirements, a lot of countries have instituted the practice of bestowing instant citizenships on Olympic team members. So there’s now a kind of free agency in the Olympics, like A-Rod trying to figure out who he’ll grace with his presence. And apparently, if you don’t qualify for your national team through the trials, the national committee has the power to just vote you on (Michelle Kwan thinks that's a little odd), which I guess is like being voted off the island but in reverse. This all ensures that only the finest and most qualified athletes go to the games….uh, right.

Once the teams get there, the rampant and flagrant fixing begins. Who can forget the IOC stealing the 1972 basketball gold medal from the US? The bought-off French figure skating judge cheating for the Russians? I guess the Frenchie had to help the Russians since there weren’t any Germans in the competition. Its not necessarily all anti-American. Remember Paul Hamm winning his gold medal due to a “scoring error”? When your “scoring system” makes Cook County voting look on the up and up, its time to question your process. What the outright fixing doesn’t handle, the doping does. The Warsaw Pact countries really perfected this in the ‘70s, sending dozens of biologically ambiguous competitors so whacked out on steroids bookies were taking action on whose head or heart would be the first to explode right in the middle of a competition. Then what worked so well behind the Iron Curtain made it to the West when all their coaches and trainers started defecting. One by one, anyone worth a damn in track and field, and later other sports, started testing positive. You could say at least they were testing, but it took the IOC years to catch up to the problem, and even now scores of athletes fail in every games. How many aren’t caught because they were able to beat the test?

Now lets get to this year specifically. I know its all about how much swag the members can squeeze out of the prospective host country’s bidders, but who thought it would be a good idea to pick China as a location? Were Iraq and Iran too busy? Why not Cuba or the Sudan? Something about being able to take a cab from the Olympic stadium to the site where the army brutally put down democratic protesters has to take a bit of the sheen off the games. This is a country that has brutally repressed Tibet, tried to exterminate the Falun Gong, supports a genocidal regime in the Sudan literally in exchange for oil supplies, has all-encompassing censorship and stifles any modicum of political debate, allows families to have only one child, basically runs slave labor shops (for Nike and Microsoft though, so that makes it ok), and applies the death penalty to relatively low-grade crimes. When Texas says “damn, that’s a lot of executions,” you may want to rethink your corrections policies. Then there’s the air. China promised the skies would be clear so that the world's top athletes (read, "air breathers") wouldn't hack up a lung. The incredible expansion in Chinese economic growth has seen the rampant increase in factories and coal-burning power plants throughout China, which had the predictable environmental impact. (sidebar-the West is completely deluding itself that the Kyoto Treaty is going to have any measurable effect-until China and India do something to control pollution, there’s not much more the West can do that will have a really big impact on world pollution). Having failed miserably to reduce the haze, China has been forced to take emergency crash measures like banning cars, shutting down factories, and seeding the clouds. I guess one bright side to being a Communist dictatorship is you can accomplish these things with a minimum amount of red tape and temporary injunction hearings. On the other hand, the Chinese appetite for control has gone so far as to try to censor the foreign press. Where’s a CCLU when you actually need them? Nothing like holding something as theoretically prestigious as the Olympic Games in a place like that. These games have fueled a spate of nationalism of near Berlin 1936 proportions. The Chinese have sworn to win these Olympics, and are pulling out all stops. From sending children to special “sports academies,” to unprecedented funding and supervision of the programs in each sport, China is building an Olympic colossus. Which is ok, except the point is to prove that China is the greatest nation in the world, and as a means of leveraging itself greater prestige in the developing world. In the next 20 years, it won’t be the US against Europe; it’ll be the West against China. Now, Los Angeles admittedly started this-those Olympics were like a Reagan campaign commercial. But that was just marketing. It didn’t have the Official Government Apparatus behind the planning and execution, or more importantly, behind the athletic development, like this one does.

Finally there’s the coverage. If you want to watch the Olympics just to see the actual games, you’re basically out of luck. Because the TV coverage is the E! True Hollywood Story for every single American participant. First off, they only show sports designed to have maximum appeal to the hugely disproportionate female viewership-gymnastics, some track and field, swimming and diving, and softball. If you want to watch boxing, basketball, or weightlifting, you’ll have to find a way to catch CBC on satellite. And there’s a strict 3: 1 ratio of “up close and personal” profile minutes to actually showing these people competing in the sport. If you’re interested in the great majority of the athletes who happen not to be on Team USA, you are also out of luck (or consigned to CBC) because NBC simply does not show the rest of the world. The whole point of the games for NBC is just a backdrop to sell the US athletes' personalities. These people mostly are so obscure they couldn’t get arrested. Yet they’re all competing for the Gold, and by that I mean, Advertising Gold. Whoever can generate enough positive publicity that they capture America’s Heart will generate millions in advertising dollars. So its a heavy dose of "Jenny couldn't blink until she was 12" stories, with little time for the actual sport itself. Now, that’s what the Olympic Movement is really all about. Signed Bruce Jenner still on television 30 years later.

There is one thing I do really like about the Olympics though. That’s the now customary “can they get everything ready in time” countdown that has preceded the last few games. Seems like its now inevitable that the host country hasn’t allowed enough time to prepare for the Olympics, and they wind up building their stadiums like 20 minutes before the Opening Ceremonies. From Atlanta that can’t get its mass transit system ready, to Athens that literally didn’t have the facilities ready until the games started, to Beijing trying to reduce the toxic air, the best race is the one these host countries fight against bankruptcy to see whether they can actually stage the games on time. London doesn’t host the games until 2012 and its already starting to experience problems. So my interest will be in seeing whether the things fall apart before they ever get started.

The rest of you should have fun though.