Today in 1958 there was a lane crash in Clear Lake, Idaho. The crash killed Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper. People mourned but Don McLean memorialized it in his song/rock history lesson American Pie. Yesterday, another idol died. He was flying, on heroin. Phillip Seymour Hoffman, versatile Academy Award winner and chameleon. I’d seen him in various movies but he blended so well into the fabric of the story he was barely noticeable. An actor’s supposed to do that, make you believe in the story and not pay attention to who plays the parts. Sometimes they get so big it’s difficult, like Brando. But Hoffman lived inside Capote and I really believed. The real Capote became a caricature of himself, but Hoffman made him the talented, troubled genius he was.

Yesterday at 6 p.m. I began a waste of time that I really should have avoided. I could have watched the Puppy Bowl or the Kitten Bowl but nooooo, I watched and made a veggie pizza. I went on-line and tried to split time between e-mail and Super Bowl. Haband and ads for mail order crapola actually avoided the click/delete that they usually get. By 10 p.m. I was actively hating the Denver Broncos for sending their practice team instead of the first stringers. The thing that really fried my a** was that the other networks rolled over and programmed crap. Anyone with a computer or access to a television would see the commercials, arguably the best part of the entire broadcast the next day or worked into their favorite programs. Dylan was good though. Okay now that’s over all we have to put up with is the god**n Olympics a waste of time. I’m interested in Blacklist, not ski jumping. After that more NBA, I dunno, hockey. When does baseball season come? Another thing, in re the Olympics, I don’t hate Russia, I just don’t care.

Thanks for listening, see you in the funnies.