* This Tom The Dancing Bug: Muslim On A Plane cartoon reminds me of the one thing I most desire from America: to be left alone. Conversely, and more specifically, I ask not to be judged based on the hue of my skin color and/or my sex. [Maitri’s two rules for passengers: 1) Don’t automatically think I’m a terrorist. 2) Don’t you dare hit on me. Oh, and while you’re at it 3) Shut your kids’ temper tantrums up and teach them how to behave in a public setting before I quietly disappear Dora and give them something to really cry about. They’re not that cute, any asshole can reproduce and this is all the sleep I get today. Make that three rules.] Anyway, it’s why I moved here. So jumpy freaks stop pawing at and questioning my very existence, and leave me the hell alone.

* What if this joint is hijacked? I am a doer; my primary instinct is to roll up my sleeves and jump into the thick of things when the crap hits the fan. So, when I get up to fight, will I be viewed as one of the hijackers by my fellow passengers and pounced upon? Or, do I give them the benefit of the doubt that they will give me the benefit of the doubt and subdue the bad guys along with me?

* I would have agreed with Juan Williams had he said he doesn’t trust anyone who identifies as religious, not just Muslim, first and American second. If you refer to yourself as Christian, Hindu or Jew first, you have no place in civilized society making rules for others. Consider this my way of profiling you.

* Talk to the nervous old lady giving you the side eye. When you open your mouth and start talking arts & crafts or books, it will be one more brown person made normal in her world view. What the hell, I’m a person, not the damned You Down With Brown goodwill brigade. The onus is on BOTH of us to be decent to one another. Talk to her anyway.

* Nah, you’re tired today. Put on the noise-cancelling headphones and take a nap. Let the grumpy old bag stew for the remainder of the flight.

These are thoughts no American should have to entertain. I’ll say it until I’m blue in the face: This is not why I moved here.

On nice, sunny days during high school and college at the University of Illinois, a bunch of us would take our fat slice of Garcia’s Pizza In A Pan and walk on over to the Quad to listen to Preacher Dan for lunchtime entertainment. I’d lazily peel off the extra pepperoni to munch on while the rest of the pizza cooled and Preacher Dan wouldn’t even notice us while he railed against pagans and homosexuals and feminists and Hottentots and everyone who didn’t Praise The Lord, Jesus Christ. At some point, a fellow student informed Dan that he was leaving Urbana for Wisconsin and the good preacher went off on the entire Dairy State because “it is named for SIN.” Cool! From that day forward and until I reached Madison myself, I could not say Wisconsin without gleefully stressing that delicious syllable. “Wisconsin … no, wait. WiscooonSIN! Heehee.”

Preacher Dan hasn’t been around the Quad for a while, I hear. What with the advent of smartphones and all, I wish I could have shown him this video. His sinless head would have ass-ploded.

They’ve got Band Director Mike Leckrone jumping around on Bascom Hill in there! And the new chancellor Biddy Martin shaking her poor head. AV Club has the full cameo roundup:

… Chancellor Biddy Martin, marching band director Mike Leckrone (in a fantastic sequin jacket), orange piccolo guy, the statue from the Camp Randall Memorial Arch (with a Conan-style talking mouth), and that brown party house outside of gate nine.

So many fun-filled years living, studying and working right next door to Camp Randall. In fact, D and I met *sniff* in its *sniff* shadow. From Illinois to Madison to Ohio State country. Man, I should be a Big 10 legend. And I miss the hell out of Madison. Best school ever.

WSJ Speakeasy | David Simon on ˜Treme“ and Why Journalism Might Not Be Doomed (hat tip, Ray)

… Are more people likely to engage with the subject matter than journalism? Sadly, yes. That is true. If Treme runs for some time and gets out on DVD and video on demand, people will find it and maybe it“ll have an audience of 8-10 million. When I wrote a nonfiction narrative about the drug trade in Baltimore, if it had sold 100,000 hardbacks, it would be a New York Times bestseller. The economy of scale is so shockingly different that I have to acknowledge it has a greater reach than actual journalism, which is vaguely disappointing. This is a country that doesn’t read.

I love that this man has an audience and hope he has the opportunity to run Treme through five seasons. He deserves it.

During the Family Reunion / Navaratri Confab a couple of weeks back, I chatted with a cousin who lives in New York, someone I haven’t seen much of over the years what with the two of us moving all over the world and America for most of our lives. Some relatives you grow up with, some you meet again as an adult on adult terms (or, in my case, the closest possible approximation of “adult”). You have to understand my cousins and I were raised in strict, orthodox-Hindu households and to stand with wine glass in hand talking with these people who look like you, in the absence of parental supervision and approval, is kinda a big deal. It’s a bigger deal when your cousin, whom you’re just getting to know again, tells you her husband and she watch Treme and The Wire and that she is head over heels in love with Zeitoun. Squeeeeee! Comparing notes and simply sharing this awesome point of commonality was the best time I had that evening, besides the impromptu costume party later at my house that lasted until 4AM.

Talking David Simon and his work seriously with a member of my family. Who’d’ve thunk it? Of course, this means more cool people who want to visit New Orleans with D and me as tour guides.

Of course, this also means someone related to me will be reading Back Of Town. Oh boy.

We say that life’s too short for bad food, music, books, people, etc. Why? At the end of life, is there a reward for having avoided the sub-par? Do we lament that had we not watched Dumb & Dumber, there would be room for just one more William Wyler film? Do we wish we had eaten one more filet mignon and one less McDonald’s burger? Do we feel better that we are passing on having consumed only Quality? I don’t think so and, therefore, don’t understand this phrase “Life’s too short for …” Why do you think we use it?