The Moe Syzlak Effect

Yesterday as Dave and I were approaching a garage sale, I had an imaginary conversation in which I was asked what I was looking for. "Oh, nothing in particular." This reminded me of a Simpsons episode that ends with Moe Syzlak swooping down with hand-made wings to save the day. As he's about to take off, an adoring fan asks where he's flying to. Moe shrugs and says, "Eh, nowheres in partickeller." As those words crossed my brain, they were uttered outloud by my husband. I turned to him and yelled, "Why did you say that? I was JUST thinking that! I mean, when you were saying it, I was thinking it. The words were in my head, but they were coming out of your mouth!"
And he said, "Oh well, when we were walking up to this garage sale, I was thinking they'd ask me . . ." And then he went on to tell me he was thinking the exact same thoughts. At the exact same time.
People, this is sad. In a couple of years, we probably won't even need to have verbal conversations. We'll be able to communicate with a series of winks and nods. Like baseball players. Which might be kind of annoying for Desmond. He'll learn the code eventually.

The One-Hour Evening TV Drama

I am currently deep into the third season of Mad Men, in which the ineffable Don Draper diagnoses the modern condition through his heartfelt ruminations for ad campaigns while juggling a harem of dark-haired mistresses.
Where would I be without my weekly one-hour evening dramas? I recently realized how long I've depended on them. I was watching "thirtysomething" when I was twelve years old. (Would this show hold up now that I'm in my thirties? I don't remember anything about the show except for Nancy getting cancer and Gary getting in a bike accident -- I think the rest was whining about kids and jobs -- which doesn't seem too far off.) Then "China Beach" -- some surfer dude, the camp prostitute with a heart of gold and Dana Delaney. Onto "Twin Peaks" -- of course my favorite of the bunch, cause it was scary and full of beautiful people (the choice between Bobby and James would eat at me for years.) Then a lull during my college years.
But then came the golden era of the one-hour cable drama: "Six Feet Under," "The Wire," and "Deadwood." With swear words and boobs!