Upstaged

More things that don’t suck: The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and The Colbert Report, both on Comedy Central. Colbert’s smarmyness sends my wit-o-meter off the charts. His show is usually the superior tingler of my language coconut, but this month’s Kernan the Grammarian specialness moment goes to Jon Stewart, hands down. Was Stewart intimidated by Seinfeld’s comic legacy, or does he regularly c*ckup words and I’m too new a viewer to see a pattern? Joyful mockery, either way.

Word candy also buzzes brains on Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Have dug Aaron Sorkin’s writing since Sports Night (d*mn gotta find the box with DVD set from BroBuckwheat!). To wit:

Conservative: "Why do our sides hate each other?"
Liberal: "Your side hates our side because you think we think you're stupid. Our side hates your side, because we think you're stupid."

And speaking of thinks that don’t suck: The Dilbert Blog. It’s my holiday gift to you. Don’t be a graceless receiver – you can’t return it. Tear off the shiny bow and paper every morning and cackle with glee at what’s inside. No slack*ss excuses accepted when Cheek next sees you. Expect pop quizzes.

So give back. What cranks your linguistic squirrel cage? Share what’s vivid and pithful.

Falling

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e.e. cummings

Fall has arrived in Atlanta. The weekend’s wind felled many leaves whose riotous colors haven’t been enjoyed in years due to summer droughts. The deep, vibrant reds in the crape myrtles and pear trees are my favorites. Saturday was Veteran’s Day: read my blogmother’s post .

Autumn’s smells also arrived for me this weekend. Glorious wood fairies brought oak from the trees felled in their own yard, and visiting Florida Dad has been the fire master in addition to working repair and installation magic in the new abode. Quaffing hazelnut hot cocoa (with whipped cream, natch!) by the fire is great stuff.

I’m no Becky-homecky, but I’m compelled to share this seasonal smell druther that doubles as a winter humidifying service. Carolina Mom got me hooked years ago, and my first pot brewed yesterday to much olfactory satisfaction:

Orange Potpourri:

- Dedicate a large pot for the season; fill with water
- Slice 4 to 6 oranges, quarter, squeeze juice in the pot, then toss in the quarters
- Add copious amounts of whole cloves and cinnamon sticks (buy in bulk at CostCo, Sam’s, Whole Foods, etc.)
- Bring to a boil for a few minutes to get things airborne, then simmer on low all day
- Add water periodically; shutoff overnight
- Next morning, boil again, then simmer all day
- Change the pot once a week, tossing the contents into the garden or a compost pile

When you visit chez Cheek, this scent will welcome you. Now I just need my annual supply of roasting chestnut candles and I’m set.

Changes

Something I read a couple of weeks ago has stuck with me. A German man “freed” in 1992 from his prison term for a murder sentence refuses to leave the joint. Seems rules there say he doesn’t have to leave if he doesn’t wanna.

What is up with that?

Is change so bad, so much to be afraid of, that being locked up is better? Is accountability and living your life based on your own choices more heinous?

And Heinous Bienfang, where are you?

Changes a’plenty have been on tap in CheekDom. Personal, professional, abode. Balking was indeed my first response to each of these changes, but the rightness of them made themselves evident. Eventually. Perhaps my resources aren’t as stretched as Prisoner Heinous, as I have friends, countrymen, furriners, and family (you know who you are) with which to discuss and touch and know migrations, evolutions, and conclusions. Those without such resources are … outlaws, I suppose.

Heinous, there’s beauty in the breakdown. Count some crows, let go of your murder of one, and fly. Purposefully seek happiness with reason as your absolute. Lather, rinse, repeat.