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Sports Tiger Blue

FOOTBALL PREVIEW: Tigers vs. UCF

Saturday, Liberty Bowl, 11 a.m.

• Twenty-one Memphis seniors will be honored Saturday as part of the annual Senior Day tribute. (Those who started a game this season are listed in bold.) Marcus Ball, Winston Bowens, Keenan Bratcher, Charlie Bryant, Darius Davis, D.A. Griffin, Jamon Hughes, Kindly Jacques, Colton Jenkins, Malcolm Jones, Lester Lawson, Jeremy Longstreet, Stevie Matthews, John McArthur, Deven Onarheim, Brad Paul, Torenzo Quinn, Gregory Ray, Dominik Riley, Justin Thompson, Bryan Wright.

• Over the last 10 years, the Tigers are 6-4 on Senior Day. Memphis lost to UAB last year, 31-21.

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• Since joining Conference USA in 2005, UCF has twice played for the league championship. The Knights lost to Tulsa, 44-27, in 2005, then beat the Golden Hurricane two years later, 44-25. With a win at the Liberty Bowl, UCF would host this year’s title game on December 4th. Should SMU win at East Carolina, the Mustangs will face the Knights for the championship. An SMU loss and a Tulsa win (over Southern Miss) would send the Golden Hurricane to the finale.

• UCF enters Saturday’s game with a record of 8-3 (6-1 in C-USA play). The Knights have won six of their last seven games, the only loss being a 31-21 defeat at Southern Miss on November 13th. UCF’s other two losses came in September, against North Carolina State and Kansas State.

• Despite sporting the best record in C-USA, UCF is only seventh in the league in total offense (393.5 yards per game). The Knights have the top-ranked defense, though, allowing only 320.3 yards and 19.1 points per game. Memphis ranks last in total offense (284.1) and 11th in total defense (470.2).

• UCF tailback Ronnie Weaver is third in C-USA in rushing with 853 yards.

• Based on the Knights’ performance last week at Tulane, the Tigers should expect a heavy ground attack. UCF ran the ball 43 times against the Green Wave and passed only 15 times in a blowout 61-14 victory. UCF was up 31-0 at the end of the first quarter. UCF is second in the league in rushing offense (204.9 yards per game) and 11th in passing (188.5).

• The Tigers have lost five of six games against UCF, and have never beaten the Knights since they joined C-USA. The lone Memphis win came in 1990 at the Liberty Bowl. The Tigers have played UCF close at home, losing by two in 2006 and seven in 2008.

• Jamon Hughes’ 136 tackles are the most by a Tiger player since Glenn Sumter had 137 in 2001. With 12 tackles against UCF, Hughes would finish the season with the fourth-highest single-season total in school history. (Michael Thomas holds the record with 162 in 1980.)

• Freshman quarterback Ryan Williams has passed for 1,803 yards, more than Danny Wimprine had during his freshman season with Memphis (1,329 in 2001). Wimprine was a redshirt freshman, while Williams is playing as a true freshman.

• The Tiger offense had its second-most productive game last week at UAB with 331 yards. (Memphis gained 413 against East Carolina in the second game of the season). But the game marked the sixth time this season the Tiger defense has allowed more than 500 yards. The Blazers were the seventh straight team to gain at least 20 first downs against the Tigers.

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Sports Tiger Blue

C-USA picks: Week 13

LAST WEEK: 5-1
SEASON: 63-27

FRIDAY
EAST CAROLINA over Southern Methodist
Southern Miss over TULSA

C-USA_logo.JPG

SATURDAY
Central Florida over MEMPHIS
MARSHALL over Tulane
RICE over Alabama-Birmingham
TEXAS TECH over Houston

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

Hairy Situation

Tangled — the new animated Disney adaptation of the Rapunzel story — is about sex, of course.

The set-up: A magic golden flower is used to heal an ailing pregnant queen, and the daughter she bears is similarly imbued with healing powers, contained in her yellow hair. A witch, who already knows about the flower power and stays young because of it, steals the baby to keep her youthful mojo working. The witch installs the child in a tower and raises her as her own daughter. The magical catch: If the kid’s hair is cut, it loses its endowment.

Eighteen years later, the child is the fresh young woman Rapunzel (voiced by Mandy Moore). She dreams of the world outside her tower, and she’s also a little terrified of it. Her ostensible mom, Mother Gothel (Donna Murphy), has been warning her about how cruel things are beyond her safe home.

But Rapunzel is enticed by mysterious lights that take to the night sky every year on her birthday. She doesn’t know it, but they’re a memorial of floating lanterns launched by the king and queen to mark their daughter’s disappearance. Rapunzel also has a bounty of hair, and mother Gothel is still getting off on the occasional dose of its regenerative power. (The relationship between Rapunzel and Mother Gothel is considerably Jungian.)

Mother Gothel’s perfect crime has its foil in the person of Flynn Ryder (Zachary Levi, TV’s Chuck), a thief who happens upon the tower while hiding from the palace guards, from whom he has stolen a crown — the baby Rapunzel’s crown, in fact. Ryder convinces Rapunzel to venture out into the world and promises to take her to the source of the lights in exchange for the crown, which the resourceful girl has beaten away from him and hidden.

And so, off the boy and girl go on their virginity-parable adventure. Mother Gothel warns that the boy just wants the girl’s crown and then is going to leave her. And those lights in the sky? What if they’re not everything Rapunzel has built them up to be — and what if they are? And Rapunzel’s hair? The threat of the girl losing her special power hangs over the entire proceedings.

The fun in Tangled isn’t purely academic, though. This is an entertaining movie and one that girls and boys alike will enjoy, with plenty of princess-wish fulfillment for the XX’s and swordplay and swashbuckling for the XY’s.

The plot takes Rapunzel and Flynn to a kind of Viking alehouse, to a dam-bursting thrill sequence, and finally to the palace. The film also includes a number of masculine voice actors as assorted toughs, such as Ron Perlman, M.C. Gainey, Jeffrey Tambor, Brad Garrett, Paul F. Tompkins — and Richard Kiel.

The songs are mostly well done by multiple-Oscar-winner Alan Menken. The animation is effective, especially the gorgeous climactic flying-lantern scene. And Rapunzel and Ryder? They look like an animated Amanda Seyfried and Adrien Brody.

Tangled

Opens Wednesday, November 24th

Multiple locations

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

Jailbreak From Reality.

Based on the 2007 French film Pour Elle, The Next Three Days tells the story of John Brennan (Russell Crowe) whose life is thrown into upheaval when his wife, Lara (Elizabeth Banks), is convicted of murder. What follows is an awkwardly paced, flimsy story line in which John attempts to break his wife out of prison. Director Paul Haggis (Crash, Million Dollar Baby) seems to have forgotten the cardinal rule of crafting a thriller: The film must be, at least at key moments, smarter than its audience.

The problem is that John is not smarter than us. He does what I suppose any ordinary schmo would do in the same position. He Googles it, he asks an expert (Liam Neeson in a cameo role), he fumbles through. Unfortunately, breaking someone out of prison is not for the average guy, and at every turn, John’s escape route requires coincidence and suspension of disbelief to stay afloat.

The film’s most interesting element is John’s uncertain moral code. He bypasses society’s version of justice in favor of his own. We do not know at first whether or not Lara has committed murder. We see her fiery temper within the first five minutes of the film, and the flashbacks to the crime are intentionally vague. Would John be a hero for saving his murderess wife? What if it takes murdering anyone who stands in his way?

By the end of the film, however, Haggis has removed all doubt of Lara’s guilt, effectively deflating any moral complexities into a soporific knight’s tale. Worse, it is a long ambling knight’s tale, with too much build-up on the front end and an action-crammed ending. Rushed to the end by a series of near misses and preposterous circumstances, the audience is as eager to leave the theater as the Brennans are to leave Pittsburgh. At one moment in their escape, Lara hangs out of a speeding car, John holding her hand for dear life, the vehicle spinning out of control into the path of an oncoming semi truck. The car skids safely to the side. John gets out and waves to the trucker as a signal that everything is fine, and the trucker drives away, as if this sort of thing happens all the time.

Indeed, what the film lacks is an understanding of how remarkable a feat it is to break someone out of prison (or even a heavily guarded hospital room, in this case) and flee to a foreign country with a child in tow. More than luck and pluck, it requires connections and savvy.

Now playing

Multiple locations

Categories
Food & Wine Food & Drink

In a Stew

I feel sorry for tomatillos, the way I once felt bad for the last kid picked for the kickball team at recess. They languish on otherwise empty farmers market tables at the end of the morning, often destined for the compost pile, because tomatillos are nobody’s favorite fruit.

They’re so tart the only people willing to eat them are the culinary equivalents of polar-bear swimming-club members. And few people seem to know how to cook with them. The tomatillo remains an outcast, watching from the sidelines while the more popular fruits of summer twirl on the dance floor. Once in a while a bowl of green salsa gets made; more often they rot in the fridge before you get around to it.

If only more people were exposed to my chile verde recipe, tomatillos would quickly become in short supply.

Once, a batch of this spicy tomatillo stew got dumped on the floor. This wasn’t a floor that was clean enough to eat off of. But unmentionable liberties were taken with the five-second rule as we scooped it with spatulas and into bowls, from which we ate like fiends.

Tomatillos look like paper lanterns stretched around extra-large light bulbs. A member of the nightshade family, like tomatoes, some people mistakenly assume tomatillo is Spanish for “little tomato” (that would be “tomatito”). The word tomatillo comes from the Aztec “miltomatl,” which means, appropriately, “round and plump with paper.” Mesoamerican habitants have been enjoying tomatillos since at least 800 B.C., and my chile verde dates back to those early times. It’s made principally of ingredients prevalent in early Central America: tomatillos, chiles, and meat. Pork is typically used, but most any meat will do — it works great with extra-tough deer cuts, like shank, that have been braised three to four hours at 300 degrees, melting the cartilage into creamy gelatin.

The tomatillo tartness penetrates the animal parts it’s cooked with, revealing savory and tender secrets you never knew your meat even had. Meanwhile, the tomatillo becomes transformed into a surprisingly rich and edible version of itself.

To serve five people, start by browning one-and-a-half pounds of meat, cut into inch-or-smaller cubes. Most people assume meat should be browned in a pan with oil, but I prefer browning below the broiler. There’s less splatter, less pan-cleaning, and it’s easier to develop a satisfyingly golden-brown crisp. For extra-tough cuts, start by oven-browning the whole roast until it gets a shiny shell, then remove, cool, and cube. After the meat is nicely browned, braise in water and wine with bay leaves and salt, tightly covered at 300 degrees, until the meat softens, adding more water and wine as necessary.

Add these braised chunks to an oiled pan, and after it starts frying, add chopped onion and chopped garlic. Take a moment to savor the odor of hot brown meat and raw onion cooking together. Sprinkle with salt and sample.

Season the meat with 1/2 teaspoon each of salt and pepper, two teaspoons of garlic powder, and a teaspoon of cumin powder. When the onions are translucent, add a quart of chicken stock. Simmer for half an hour.

With the meat under control, it’s time for the peppers. Any and all varieties should be considered for this task, and the more variety the better. Poblanos, jalapeños, bell peppers, dried red chile, Jimmy Nardellos, senoritas, concha de toros, Bulgarian fish peppers … whatever capsicum you’ve got, chop or crumble (in the case of dried) into the mix, removing the seeds and membranes of the hot ones as you see fit, given your audience.

Slice a pound of tomatillos in half and liquefy, adding a cup of cilantro and two garlic cloves. Add this potent puree to the meat and peppers. (Both should be half-dissolved by now.) Simmer for another hour or two on low heat, seasoning with salt and pepper, stirring frequently, and adding water or stock as necessary. When you’re ready to be done cooking, stop adding water and allow to thicken a bit. Serve with tortillas or rice.

There’s no way around the fact that a good pot of chile verde takes time. But while the cooking time is long, the prep time is short. Once it’s cooking it’s easy to keep it cooking for hours more, adding water when necessary, and I’ve only noticed improvement with longer cooking.

Whether it’s used with a succulent piece of pork or on a slow-cooked shank, chile verde is a dish worth waiting for. It’s a dish worth eating off a dirty floor. And even if Microsoft applications label “tomatillo” as a misspelled word, this ancient fruit has a place in today’s kitchen.

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Book Features Books

Dear […],

The assignment is simple: Choose a book that has touched your life in a significant way — a book that might even have changed your life — and write a letter to its author, who may be living or dead. This isn’t a book report. Think of your letter as an informal conversation with the author, a letter in your own voice and a testament to the power of literature to enlighten and transform, whether it be a work of fiction or nonfiction, a short story or a poem, an essay or a speech. (But no song lyrics, please.)

A year ago, Paul Hoover, age 16 and a student at Germantown High School, did just that. He wrote to Thornton Wilder about Wilder’s play Our Town and came in third place. Megan Lee, age 14 and a student at White Station High School, wrote to Sherman Alexie about Alexie’s novel The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian and came in second place. And Malli Swamy, age 16 and a student at White Station, wrote to Paulo Coelho about Coelho’s novel The Alchemist. She came in first place.

All three Memphis teenagers took top state honors in their age bracket in the Letters About Literature 2010 competition, a program for grades 4 through 12 set up by the Center for the Book in the Library of Congress (in partnership with Target) and co-sponsored on the state level by Humanities Tennessee, home of the Tennessee Center for the Book.

Swamy went on to win at the national level, just as Caroline Hoskins of St. Mary’s did in 2009 and as Ayesha Usmani of White Station did in 2008. Those honors not only came with the recognition, they included “reading grants” as high as $10,000 to a designated community or school library (plus cash prizes for individual winners and Target gift cards). First-place winner at the highest age level in the state competition also receives a full scholarship to the Tennessee Young Writers’ Workshop held each summer on the campus of Austin Peay University in Clarksville.

Lacey Cook, program officer for Letters About Literature at Humanities Tennessee, has been highly impressed with the winning record of Memphis-area students, and she urges everyone to participate: whether student submissions come from in-class work or for outside extra-credit; whether students are in private or public schools or home-schooled.

“It’s very rare for one state to have as many national winners as Tennessee — and Memphis in particular,” Cook said recently by phone from Nashville. “Individual teachers can help by fitting the contest into the curriculum,” Cook added and mentioned English teacher at White Station, Suzanne Wexler, as a fine example. “Librarians can be of help too. Parents. But it’s the kids, really. They get to write about whatever they want to.”

Being from Tennessee, Cook admitted, does have its advantages.

“Tennessee is a self-managing state, and we’re the only state that is,” Cook said. “That means, we receive and read all the student letters in-house. Other states have the letters sent to a central office that then sends them to the state judges. We at Humanities Tennessee get to look at each one of them and read them for merit and heartfelt strengths.”

If you’re entering the Letters About Literature contest, remember: Style and originality count, so too language skills, organization, and grammar. But it’s the student-reader’s personal relationship with a book that judges will be looking for — and saw in the letter by Malli Swamy, where she concluded her moving message to Paulo Coelho: “… I want to see the world not because of [Jay, Malli’s deceased brother], but because of the world itself. Thank you for letting me know that it is waiting for me.”

For contest guidelines and requirements, including the coupon necessary for entry, go to humanitiestennessee.org/youngwriters/letters.php. Questions for Lacey Cook? Call her at 615-770-0006 ext. 19 or contact her by e-mail at lacey@humanitiestennessee.org. Submissions, by mail only, must be postmarked on or before December 10th.

The assignment is simple: Think of a title (four words maximum). Think of a word, one word. Then send them to memphisfastfiction.com. There they’ll be used to compose 365 stories (200 words per story), for a total 73,000 words all about one city: Memphis.

Call it fast fiction, an idea borrowed from Lee Barnett as a writing exercise and an idea that got interactive web designer Zachary Whitten thinking: “What if you could turn a whole year into a series of stories?” he writes on his fast-fiction website. “What if you could write them all about one thing?” And “what if that one thing was Memphis?”

So: Get to thinking about that title and that one word. Whitten needs at least 365 submissions. (No joking around with “intentionally unworkable prompts,” please.) And he needs to get working. His first story is to be posted on January 1, 2011; the final story, on December 31, 2011.

Categories
Food & Wine Food & Drink

Cornering the Market

A new upscale grocery and deli is set to open at the corner of Union and Main Street, on the ground floor of the Radio Center Flats, sometime next week.

City Market is loosely modeled on Miss Cordelia’s in Harbor Town. Their motto is “e2 — eat and enjoy,” and it plans on offering that experience to customers in the form of fresh groceries, high-quality deli foods, coffee, and free wireless Internet.

“It has to be an upscale deli and grocery, and that’s what we’re aiming for,” says Hamida Pirani, managing partner with her husband Sunny Mandani. “We love downtown. A market like this wants to be in an urban environment where people are focusing on eating healthy, and they’re single, and they want something prepared that they can take home.”

Pirani and her husband are dedicated to striking a balance of good value and healthy food for downtown. “We’ve been traveling to different states looking at different concepts. We’ve been to Chicago to look at Olivia’s Market, and we’ve been to Arkansas to look at the Argenta Market. We’re always looking for new products that will taste good and at the same time be healthy.”

The menu, which will offer a number of sandwiches with Boar’s Head meats and cheeses, as well as vegetarian options, is an eclectic blend of cultural influences. Curry chicken salad, a Cuban hero sandwich, and a Mediterranean veggie sandwich mingle with a traditional club sandwich and other American deli classics.

There also will be soups, fresh vegetables, salads, rotisserie meats, and other items for take-away or purchase by the pound. Boar’s Head meats and cheeses will be available for purchase as well. A bakery case will offer muffins, scones, biscuits, cookies, and cakes from area bakeries such as Ladybugg Bakery and Sugaree’s. Umai will deliver fresh sushi every morning at 11 a.m. Tropical Foods will provide its signature trail mixes, wasabi cashews, gummi bears, and other snack foods, and St. Clair will supply some of the salads for the deli case. Pre-made wraps and sandwiches, fruit cups, and yogurt parfaits will be available for a quick lunch on the go.

As for the groceries, traditional items such as toilet paper, eggs, and milk will be stocked as well as gluten-free, dairy-free, and organic products. The store will have six-packs of beer but no single servings. As much produce as possible will come from farmers markets, though Pirani says the amount will depend on availability.

There will be bar seating lining the front window and patio seating outside on Main Street. Sandwich prices will range from $7 to $10. City Market will be open Monday to Saturday from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. and Sunday from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.

City Market, 66 S. Main, citymarketmemphis.com

Au Fond is getting in the holiday spirit with a new special offer: From now until January 31st, anyone who brings in a new or gently worn children’s winter coat will receive one free meal. Part of a joint effort with the Shelby County school system, the offer is limited to one meal per person making the donation, but patrons are encouraged to bring as many coats as possible.

Au Fond, 938 S. Cooper (274-8513)

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We Recommend We Recommend

Sweet Dreams

Dreamgirls, the hit musical inspired by Motown’s powerhouse girl-group Diana Ross & the Supremes, is — as the oldie-station deejays are so fond of saying — a solid-gold classic. Jennifer Holliday’s bone-rattling 1981 performance of the Act I finale “And I Am Telling You” brought Broadway audiences to their feet night after night. Jennifer Hudson brought home an Oscar when she sang Holliday’s signature role in the 2006 film adaptation of Dreamgirls. Local productions of the show have found Soulsville audiences dancing in the aisles to a Detroit groove.

Dreamgirls mixes a little of Jersey Boys with a lot of American Idol. It’s all cutthroat business deals, catfights, and backstage melodrama. Then the spotlights shine down, the sparkling gowns come out, and every diva in the house is given her moment to shine. The story is a familiar one. Three girls with big voices and bigger dreams catch a break singing backup for the James Brown-inspired singer James Early. As their fame grows, friendships fail and fall apart. And the beat goes on.

 Director Robert Longbottom has dialed up the glitz for his ambitious revival of a show that’s already something of an extravaganza. Concert lighting and an environment composed of ever-shifting panels keeps the action moving at an accelerated pace. William Ivey Long’s costumes have been designed to make quick changes into dazzling set pieces.

 

“Dreamgirls” at The Orpheum from November 30th-December 5th. Tickets are $25-$95.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

The Rant

Everybody does it, they just don’t talk about it. It’s natural, but it’s a dirty little secret people like to keep to themselves. Even those of us who say they aren’t curious know that the urge is there, and sooner or later, they succumb. We wait until our privacy is assured and we won’t be interrupted, then we surrender to our yearnings and do it. We Google ourselves.

I’m guilty, too. But ever since I began posting online, and the Memphis Flyer has been printing my articles, I’ve gotten all Googled up and, like B.B. King says, “The Thrill Is Gone,” or perhaps just de-glossed. But the first time I Googled myself, my throat constricted and my face froze. After I had typed in my name and pressed “enter,” the first headline that came up said, “Dead in Memphis 6-19-70.” For a moment, I thought I was living in an alternate universe until I read the article. It was from a 1995 Flyer story about the Grateful Dead coming to Memphis, and the reporter contacted me about attending a Dead concert in the Mid-South Coliseum in 1970, where they bombed. At that Vietnam-era show, it looked like every sailor in Millington had come to see the Grateful Dead, and they all just sat there. Several other hippies and I hung around afterward to offer our condolences to the band and apologize that our city wasn’t more receptive. Phil Lesh told me that “Memphis is the most soul-less city we’ve ever played.” Ah, the good old days.

After I realized that it wasn’t me who was dead, there were several other Google “hits” referencing my 1960s garage rock band with links and listings about Sun Records. I discovered that our 1965 Sun single was selling online for $65, which indirectly led to a full compilation by Ace Records. I was also amazed to learn from Google that I was a member of the Rockabilly Hall of Fame in Jackson, Tennessee. I suppose admittance is granted to anyone who ever released a record on the Sun label, which, after the “Million Dollar Quartet,” includes a long list of my fellow unknowns. Although the Radiants came along 10 years after rockabilly, a term that Sam Phillips hated, I was honored by the association. If they’re still in the planning stages for our induction ceremony, however, they’d better hurry. Nobody’s getting any younger.

My last name is uncommon, and Google introduced me to a slew of prospective relatives, from jocks to doctors and even actors who play doctors. It turns out there are Haspels all over the place. I know for certain that some are unknown cousins, because someone has to be making those seersucker suits. I wonder if, when they Google themselves, they wonder who in the hell I am. Seeing all that potential kin is interesting but not enough for me to try and contact anyone. In this climate, they’d probably just hit me up for money, and who needs that aggravation? I have other cousins whom I actually like. Why ask for trouble?

It was likewise frightening the first time I typed in my name and clicked on Google “images.” I expected to see an aging guy with a disheveled white beard, like my driver’s license photo, but the first picture that came up was Osama bin Laden. Now my paranoia was confirmed. I had been scooped up in the Bush administration’s dragnet and the NSA was monitoring my computer activity. I had used too many of the Echelon project “code words,” and now they were lumping me in with al-Qaeda. I was hesitant to even click on the picture, thinking that a giant eye would appear on the screen and order me to the courthouse to receive my bar-code, but it turned out to be just a picture from the Flyer from an issue in which I had an article.

I enjoyed Google’s reaffirming my identity for a time. Having online references about yourself is a little like a droplet of immortality, at least until the next technology comes along. But things have changed and Google is not as kind to me as it once was. It seems writing for the Flyer is a mixed blessing. I enjoy having my thoughts and opinions considered by a wider audience, and the Flyer pays me for my work, but it also brought me out of my tiny, blog bubble and greater access has invited more criticism. As a songwriter in Nashville, I used to eat criticism on my cereal for breakfast and developed a weatherproof leathery hide. I’ve been disappointed more times than a Manson woman at a parole hearing, but when the criticism is printed, that goes up on Google as well. Now, just after a music site that says my singing voice is “interesting,” there’s a reader’s comment that says I’m “ignorant.” After such a blissful spell of happy Google searching, I have lost control over my cyber identity, and with each published article, the number of people who consider me an idiot has grown.

So, I’ve had to give up Googling myself. It felt good for a while but I needed to stop. I was beginning to go blind and hair was growing on my keyboard. Every now and then I’ll check to make sure I still exist, but my self-Googling desire has diminished. It was once a gentle ego massage to see my name on the World Wide Web, but it’s not as thrilling when your name is followed by the word “fool.” Googling is such a tough habit to break, it should have its own 12-step program. “My name is Randy and I’m a self-Googler.” Although I haven’t given it up completely, I’ll stop cold turkey before I let that damn Google start calling me names. That’s when it ceases to be self-gratification and becomes something more akin to masturbating with steel wool. It just feels so good when you stop.

Randy Haspel writes the blog”Born-Again Hippies,” where a version of this column first appeared.