10...9...8...7..

..................................................................................Though I am celebrating today's inauguration along with so many others, I wonder and worry for the state of our collective funny bone. Who will we ridicule now that we have a president that we have actually elected? And Joe Biden? He is so unlikely to ever shoot a pal in the face that I just don't know what we will be doing with ourselves for the next four years.

Oh, wait.... yes, I do: We will all somehow be dealing with the mess we're in now. Though it's easy to feel like a sap who wasn't invited to the party but has to help clean it up after the bullies and their brethren have all gone home to sleep it off, I predict that even with our noses pressed to the grindstone, we will find things to laugh about. Here's to us: Cheers, big ears!

Rogue Art in NYC

Forget the long lines and high prices of Museum Mile. If you're looking for interactive bargain entertainment look no further than Barney's. This horny mannequin greeted me on my way down the escalator one afternoon over the holidays. Whether the sales people are bored from lack of customers or whether the customers are getting creative, someone has decided to improve upon the shopping experience and I for one am very happy about it. I predict that we'll see a lot more rogue art as the economy continues to tank.

Gratitude: The Dark Side

As I ponder the magic and beauty of wintertime and the individuality of each snow flake there is much to be thankful for as the year comes to a close. There's a smart new President getting ready to move into the White House... The constitution-ignoring, love-it-or-leave-it extreme right-wing numbnuts have been made to say uncle... We can be friends with France again (Yay! and, Yum!)...the scandal involving the Governor of Illinois has erased much of the stain New York Governors left on the national psyche this year...and we all learned a new curse word care of an Iraqi journalist ("Son of a shoe") that comes with a physical gesture that simultaneously allows us to express our distain for public figures while also unloading the unwanted dregs from our closet floor.

On a more personal note I am grateful that I finally rediscovered the name (Steve S.) of the guy who lit my hair on fire at a party back in high school. No adults were present and I never ratted him out. I just pushed the whole thing to one of the farthest corners of my mind and forgot about it. But being lit on fire has a way of gnawing at one as the years go by.  It was especially irksome since even though I was completely sober at the time and still remember the friend who helped me cut the burnt end of my pony tail off in the bathroom afterwards, I couldn't remember who had done it. Thanks to the long tentacles of Facebook, I now know who he is and where he lives should I ever choose to track him down and light his ass on fire. I'm just keeping it as an option and possessing that nugget of imaginary power alone has quieted down some long- restless part of me.

And I think to myself: what a wonderful world.

2008 Holiday Bad Gift Guide

With so many opinions to guide you through your holiday shopping what you may really need is a guide of what not to buy. Some of us remember the bad gifts we've been given even more than the good ones if only because the trauma was so extreme. Keeping that in mind, here's a preliminary assortment of some really bad choices. Don't say you weren't warned if you choose to purchase some of these items for your nearest and dearest. 1. Tired Old Ass Cream. It claims to be effective for exhaustion but it doesn't say whose tired old ass it was made from. $10.95 (Wholefoods) 2. Vulva Balm. Not sure what its purpose is or why the manufacturer thought that it is a good idea for vulvas to smell like gypsies or jasmine. (Though I did notice that there are no vulva-scented products on the market. So, perhaps that explains something.) $16.00 (Wholefoods) 3. Carbolized Mutton Tallow. It is made from sheep fat treated with phenol, a strong corrosive poison and a derivative of benzene. Mmmm, try slathering some of that on your chapped lips. $8.95 (Lehmans.com) 4. Pure Emu Oil. Made from real live (or maybe dead by now) emus. It supposedly thickens the skin and reduces the formation of wrinkles. The writing on the bottle doesn't explain how they got the emus to give up their precious oil. Can one actually squeeze an emu? However they get the oil, it probably isn't pretty. $17.95 (Lehmans.com)

New Luxury Kills Old Beauty

I know just how these two buildings feel: The new guy moves in and tries to squeeze you out with his parvenu insensitivity. (Try Trader Joe's any day of the week and see how long your ankles last after being pounded from behind by your swanky new neighbor's shopping cart.)

If the Landmark Commission really protected old New York instead of bowing down to developers we wouldn't now have two old brownstones on Lexington Avenue crumbling from the new construction between them. (Check out the serious cracks on the front of both brownstones.) But what can one do? Well, short of joining Earth First and getting one's name on the FBI's most-wanted list, one can take photographs to serve as a record for the sad piecemeal destruction of our City. And like mice laughing at elephants, we can also continue to make fun of powerful ignoramuses; we will always have petty ridicule to comfort us. Can anyone say, combover? Doughy offspring?  Wilted cuckold?

R.I.P. Leftist Elfin Tree Art

For those who can't read the sign, it says, "Total Republican Failure." What will the rural leftist tree elves do with their time once Obama has been sworn in? And how did they get this sign all the way up there in the first place? I can barely be bothered to climb a ladder to change a light bulb. Still, I like the incongruity of it. Traveling down a country road and -whoa!-what's that?! Why, it's art! I predict that since most fine artists are left-leaning, dem-like creatures and since most modern art is born out of discontent, there just won't be a whole lot for them to do for the next four years. So, check out the forest art while you can, folks.

Return of The Cuteness

The Dow is down and people are freaked out but here is proof that in some places things are getting better. Recently, physical anthropologist Sharon Gursky-Doyen rediscovered a tiny primate in central Sulawesi, Indonesia. Four inches long and weighing just two ounces, the nocturnal pygmy tarsier was long thought to be extinct. No one had seen them in over 80 years. Its reappearance reminds me of the old story of Ground Hog Day and how if the ground hog fails to see its own shadow that means that winter will soon end. Could the reemergence of our tiny cousin with the elfin hands mean something good is on the horizon? One thing that is especially cool about this creature is that it can turn its head 180º. I think that it has come out of retirement as a message to our new President: Good things can still live in this world but as Bush reportedly told Obama when he first became a Senator: You've got to watch your back.

Doors Of Brooklyn Heights

Though it's tempting to prattle on these post-election days about the symbolism of doorways and opening ourselves to new opportunities, I will spare you. There's just something nice about photos of doorways and Brooklyn Heights has some good ones:

Balcony For One, Part II: The Outer Boroughs

I actually spied a lone smoker on the 3rd floor balcony two weeks ago. He was on the phone and looked most exiled from his nouveau Brooklyn digs. The balcony became almost like a floating phone booth. It had been my contention that such a balcony was for the social outcast, the lone wolf, the hater. But, while passing below I listened hard for sounds of angst but nothing about the fellow's presence seemed misanthropic. He was mellow. Just a mellow dude smoking his cigarette and talking on the phone. Yet, something about his behavior in the confines of his small aerie made me see this architectural oddity in a new light. Perhaps it should be looked on in the same way we swaddle babies and autistics: a comforting tightness that encapsulates the individual while keeping the total amount of sensory input to a minimum. Perhaps genius strikes in such places. Or, perhaps it is just a place to get away from your pumpkins and everyone else.

R.I.P. Miriam Makeba

Pata Pata is one of the best songs to dance to. Here's a video of Miriam Makeba, a tireless entertainer, musical heroine and speaker of the truth. In this age of complacency, Makeba stands out as a true believer and supporter in the cause of justice for all people. Nothing could be more appropriate than to honor her memory today by getting out of your chair and shaking what you got and speaking up even when it might be easier to lie low.