Hey Look, I'm On TV

It's very late, but I've been a little lax in my blogging lately, and I didn't want to miss today.

I just got home from a gruelling twelve hour day on the set of some more television commercials. You may remember that in August, I shot six spots (that's how we talk in show biz) that have been running during football season. I guess the commercials are successful, because the other day I got a call from my agent telling me they wanted to use me in a few more. Thank God for America's insatiable consumerism and my undeniable talent.

We shot four spots today, and I am prominently featured in one and visible in two more. I won't spoil them for you, but they should start running soon, and you will get quite a laugh when you see them. You can't miss me, I'm the dapper guy in the blue blazer with the sweet crewcut. Man, I love TV work. Great pay, good food and Teamsters. You can't beat it.

I'm tired, so I'm off for the night. Later...Brian

Paging Mr. Griswold

I hope everyone had an enjoyable Thanksgiving. The meal went off without a hitch here at the casa, and my culinary skills were unparalleled as usual. There was only one slight drawback. I had to work Thanksgiving night, so as soon as I finished eating, I had to go to bed for my pre- show nap. I didn't get to have any dessert, but I've more than made up for it in the days since.

This weekend, Christmas came to my neighborhood. No, there were no parades or jolly men in red suits, just a bunch of guys and thousands of tiny lights. The bloodsport that is exterior holiday illumination began in earnest on Friday. The weather was a huge contributor. Chicago has been enjoying a week of sixty plus temps, and my neighbors decided to take advantage. I slept late on Friday since I had been on the air all night, and when I ventured out early that afternoon I was greeted by a flurry of activity. It was as if Christmas decorations had been delivered by U.N. air drops. Every driveway was littered with lights, garland and plastic holiday figures that after years of exposure, now barley resembled the friendly characters of years past. I did what I normally do. I mocked a couple of my neighbors. "It's still November," I shouted with thinly veiled disdain. "Yeah, but it's warm," they skillfully retorted. I went back in the house to have another piece of pie, but thoughts of holiday grandeur kept interrupting my pie fueled bliss.

Saturday was another unseasonably warm day, so I decided I should at least make an effort to start decorating. I still think that we're all rushing the season a little, but I also knew that if I waited, I would be left shivering in sub zero weather trying to inflate my snowman (no, that's not a euphemism) and losing my fingers to frost bite trying to string some lights around a dying bush. I also knew that my neighbors would descend on me like jackals, laughing and taunting me as I lay in my driveway suffering from hypo-thermia. I doubt any of them would even offer me a cup of hot cocoa. No, all I would get would be well deserved mockery. I enlisted "Wife" and "Daughter" to help me drag the decorations out of the crawl space, then after finding the stuff for the outside, I went to my staging area, the garage.

Last year, I made use of decorations from the old house. The new place looked OK, but when you're going for neighborhood domination, OK doesn't cut it. Instead of putting up lights, "Wife" and I went looking for some new stuff. After about ten minutes in an over crowded and over heated store I had the first of what I'm sure will be many holiday melt downs and ran from the store screaming. I consulted the Weather Channel, learned that Sunday was going to be a good weather day too, and resigned myself to get started then.

I started decorating Sunday as most of my neighbors were finishing up. I laughed (this time to myself) that it had taken some of them three days to finish. After five hours of tedious and frustrating illuminating, I quit on Sunday, far short of perfection. Yesterday, I went to get more lights and extension cords, since I had used all of my supplies during my marathon session on Sunday. "Wife" had decided that we "needed" to put lights in all our big trees. She's as bad as I am. I spent another five hours working on the trees yesterday, and no, I'm not taking long breaks, I'm busting my decorating behind. Yesterday I strung a grand total of 2800 little lights in my trees, as well as a spotlight for the Nativity scene. I discovered my snowman had a tear, so I had to patch that and will be adding him to the mix today. I figure I have about an hour worth of work left before I finally say "enough". A grand total of eleven hours just so I can pay a huge electric bill and sit in my house secure in the knowledge that I rule the neighborhood, in my mind at least.

Does the place look festive? Sure it does, but as I discovered when I went to bed last night, it also has the appearance of a US embassy in a hostile country. The place is so illuminated that trained assassins wouldn't be able to sneak on the property. Not only wouldn't they escape detection because of all the lights, but the little dancing snowmen who sing "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" would rouse me from my winter slumber. I anticipate some last minute additions from some of my envious neighbors, but so far reviews form passers-by have my house at the top of the list. I've got a couple spare strings of lights in the garage just to be safe. Later...Brian

Thanks!

This is a crazy week for everybody, which is why I missed yesterday. The Noonan house is a flurry of activity in preparation for Thanksgiving. Yours truly is doing the cooking and for once I am not panicking. I've made Thanksgiving dinner for the last seven years and except for the first one I haven't had too much trouble. I'm confident in my skills and recipes since they are the exact ones I ate growing up. Trays of bread have been drying around the house since Sunday which has given the place the feel of a bakery outlet store. I shopped early to avoid the crowds, and tonight I will do some prep work and make a couple of things to ease my Thanksgiving burden. One year, I'll experiment with some new recipes. That may work out on a couple of levels. If everyone likes them, success. If everyone hates them, they won't want to come back and I won't have to entertain. Win, win if you ask me.

I'm not sure why, but I tend to take a lot of things for granted. Even at Thanksgiving, I usually don't put a lot of thought into what I am thankful for. For some reason, I started thinking about that today and thought it might be fitting to write about some of the things I'm thankful for. I'll try not to get to maudlin, since I know how we all hate that. Fell free to make a list yourself. I don't plan on reading this at the table tomorrow or anything, since sharing my feelings is even harder for me than taking inventory of them. Without further ado and in no particular order, some things I am thankful for.

-"Wife" If I didn't put her first, I'm sure I would pay some terrible price, but I am thankful for her support and faith in me.

-"Daughter" See above only replace first with second.

-Sometimes I don't know how I got here, but I'm really thankful for having a comfortable place to live and the resources to keep us all warm and full. Mostly full, since I could always put on a sweater.

-Sweaters

-Good friends who I can count on to make me laugh, make me mad and listen to my crazy theories.

-As much as I complain about them, I am thankful for my family and the fact that some of them will be joining us tomorrow. They are a pain sometimes, but when the chips are down I know I can count on them.

-The chips being up.

-My unfailing sense of humor. (see above)

-My dogs. (ask me again in January when I'm out picking up after them.)

-A job that I love and the good fortune to be on the road to success after a big life change. (Speaking of the job I love. I'll be filling in for Steve and Johnnie Thanksgiving night from
11pm -5am and then doing our regular show Sunday morning from 1-5am on WGN. Listen, it will help you digest your dinner or ate night sandwich.)

-My swarthy good looks.

-My ability to bust a rhyme even though I'm a white guy in his forties.

-My new recliner.

-TiVo

-Talent that I sometimes doubt, but am always aware of. It is a gift and I try to be thankful for all the time.

-The internet. Because without it I wouldn't have...

_You. The folks who read and comment on this. I don't know how many of you there are,(I hear there is a way to check, but I'm sure the reality wouldn't live up to my fantasy) but I write this for you. Well, I write it for me too, but if you weren't there, I'd keep the thoughts to myself and that can lead to nothing but trouble.

That's a good start. I'm sure there's more, but I've got cranberry sauce to make. Have a great Thanksgiving. I'll talk to you Monday. Later....Brian

Decency Rebounds

I was doing what I do most days, namely, putting off writing this blog. I'm glad I procrastinated, because about an hour ago, news came across my desk here at the global news gathering site I call my headquarters.

You may have read here last week, or heard on any other media outlet known to man that Fox was going to air an Interview with alleged double murderer and over all scum bag O.J. Simpson where he would detail how he would have committed the murders if he in fact had committed them. After unparalleled outrage, Fox, and the books publishers have scrapped the idea. Even though the book is finished, it will not be released, and the TV interview will not be shown.

I take a lot of credit for this. If it hadn't' been for my hard hitting and insightful condemnation of these projects, would Bill O'Reilley and Geraldo had the courage to speak out? I think not. If I hadn't had anything else to write about that day, would Rupert Murdoch have pulled the plug? Nay nay! I'm sure you know I'm kidding, and if you don't, well then I will take all the credit. The credit actually goes to decent people everywhere who let their voices be heard. Enough of us made a stink that decency was finally put ahead of commerce.

I don't have anymore to say about this other than thank goodness. Criminals, even ones not yet convicted shouldn't be able to profit from their crimes and cause further hurt to the families of their victims. At last, someone listened and did the right thing. Later...Brian

Maybe I'm Being Unreasonable

Am I the only person around who can read and understand English? If you're shaking your head or screaming "No" at your monitor, then my question is answered. My rational mind tells me that other people can read and understand, and maybe even maneuver through life, but in practice, this isn't always the case.

Three days a week I have to drive"Daughter" to school early for band. I'm happy to do it because I think it's great that she loves music and is playing an instrument. That joy is snuffed out every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning by lazy, inconsiderate or perhaps illiterate moms . I blame the moms because except for me, I have never seen another man dropping kids off at the school.

If you've ever dropped your kid off at school, you have noticed that the traffic flow has been planned down to the smallest detail. The goal of principals everywhere is to make sure none of their students is mashed in the parking lot by some mini van driving, Starbucks drinking, make- up applying soccer mom, or the one irate dad who has to deal with them all. "Daughter's" school is no exception. The driveway is clearly marked with traffic cones and a flashing light. Two huge signs tell drivers to pull all the way up to the flashing light before dropping off their rug rats. I have never seen one of these moms pull all the way up. They all stop right in front of the door. I guess this is to save their precious cargo the effort of having to walk an extra seven feet. By doing this, they hold up an entire line. It takes all of my will power not to honk my horn, or get out and point to the sign. It's probably better that I don't since "Daughter" has to attend that school and "Wife" doesn't want to move. I thought maybe I was nuts, that the sign was a figment of my imagination and that in fact I was projecting my utopian traffic patterns from some deeply buried place in my psyche. I asked "Daughter" and her friend if they too could see the signs, and if they could would they read it to me. They both rolled their eyes, but not before confirming the existence of the signs.

Is it a woman thing? Do these mommies think they are above the law? Here's something else. Have your kids ready to get out of the car when you pull up. Drop off is not the time to remind them of everything you ever told them. A quick "goodbye" and an "I love you" is all that's needed before kicking them out of the car. Lets get it together before I completely come unglued.

There, that's over. I'll be on WGN twice this weekend. Saturday morning from 2-5 am, I'll be guest hosting on "WGN Rewind" and then it's the big show Sunday morning from 1-5 am with Laura. Don't miss it. Have a great weekend. Later...Brian

The Loser Line Forms To The Left

Everytime I think I can't be surprised by the stupidity of people, an event comes along and proves how gullible and perhaps stupid I can be. Those of you not living in your parent's basement may not know this, but Sony is releasing a new gaming system tomorrow.

PlayStation 3 is expected to be the hottest gift item this holiday season. Sony, in it's infinite marketing wisdom, is only releasing 400,000 of these high tech goodies, which means demand will far outweigh supply. Most of us would say, "Well, I'll try to pick one up. If I get one, I get one." That would be the rational way to handle the situation. As we all know, rational thought is a rare commodity. For the last week, people have been lining up outside Best Buy, and other stores, hoping to get their grubby mitts on one of these treasures. That's right, they've been spending days and nights sleeping on the sidewalk, with no guarantee that the store they're camping in front of will even be getting any PlayStation 3 units. Call me soft if you like, but I'm not sleeping outside with a bunch of unwashed losers for a chance, to maybe, have the opportunity to shell out six hundred bucks.

Here's a question. If you have the career flexibility to entrench yourself outside a Best Buy for a week, where are you going to get the $600? Most of the folks I run across, myself and "Wife" included, actually have to work for our money. Sure, I'd love to spend days on end sitting on the cold cement, risking piles, and talking to you about how you got to level six in whatever fantasy world you find it more comfortable to dwell, but I've got to get to work. I would sit spellbound for hours as you regaled me with tales of your Madden '05 football glory, and stories about how your last "girlfriend" couldn't handle your love of gaming, so you kicked her to the curb. I wouldn't even point out that deflating a blow-up doll doesn't equate with "kicking a girl to the curb." As wonderful as this camp out sounds, I have a life to lead that doesn't involve trolls, grand theft anything or a joy stick.

Some of these business geniuses claim that they are in fact working. These minor league Trumps say that they're waiting to buy a PlayStation 3 so they can sell it on the internet for a large profit. If I'm not mistaken, this is the kind of sound financial strategy they teach at Harvard's Business school. Let's see if I follow this. You take off four days from work for a slim chance to shell out more money than you'd make in those four days, just to possibly sell the over priced item on the internet? Sounds like a strong plan, unless people aren't willing to pay your overly inflated price. Then you're stuck with a PlayStation 3 you can't even use because you don't have electricity since you got fired for taking all those days off and you can't pay your bills. You better pray for a bonus round. Later...Brian

Whadda Ya Mean If?

People complain all the time about television. They say it's too low brow, too violent, too sexy (never). Everyone complains, but deep down, we all love it. We love to wallow in other people's drama. It makes us feel a little better about ourselves. I'm no elitist. I love TV as much or more than the next guy, but I think my HD mistress just hit a depth from which there is no return.

Fox Broadcasting, the same company that brought you "When animals attack during high speed chases on Temptation Island" has scheduled two one-hour "special interviews" with O.J. Simpson, yeah, that O.J. Simpson, called "If I Did It". During what I'm sure will be a truthful disclosure, Orenthal James will regale us with his explanation of how he would have killed his ex-wife Nicole and Ronald Goldman if in fact he had committed the crime. That's a mighty big if.

Is there anyone left on this planet who doesn't think O.J. did it? Michael Jackson doesn't count. He's the only celebrity criminal more deluded than O.J.. By the preview of this monstrosity, even O.J. thinks O.J. did it. During the interview with Judith Regan, who coincidentally happens to be the publisher of O.J.'s book by the same name that just happens to come out the day after the lie, I mean interview, is broadcast, says "I have never seen so much blood." Hold on, you've never seen so much blood. Does that mean you were there? This reminds me of "The Telltale Heart". For years, Mr. "If it doesn't fit, you must acquit", has been hearing the voices and heartbeats of the people he murdered (allegedly) and it finally drove him nuts. Why else, except of course to sell his vicious tome, would he sit down for this. The bigger question is why is Fox airing it, and who the hell is going to watch it.

I beseech all you people with nothing better to do than watch this nightmare to watch anything else. A test pattern or channel guide is better than supporting this. Fox defends it's position by saying that this is the interview no one ever thought would happen. Thank God. This is something I hoped would never happen. This is the intersection of hubris, self delusion, lies and murder with racism and ignorance standing at the curb. If O.J. wants to keep lying, let him. We don't need to accept it by watching. Later...Brian

Hot New Rubber

Winter is coming. That's what the weather man and my achy knees keep telling me. That means freezing rain, snow and ice making the roads the motorized equivalent of a slip and slide. Anybody who drives during this challenging time of year knows that you need good tires on your ride to keep the doughnuts and fish tails confined to a church parking lot and away from the expressway on ramp.

With safety and low insurance rates in mind, I went out to check my tires. Imagine my surprise when I discovered I was essentially riding on"slicks". I probably should have noticed this before, and I may have, but buying tires is like saying "I love you" to family members, I'll do it later. Anyway, Big Daddy Don Garletts could have won some serious drag races with my back tires. One look at the bald, steel belt exposed tires convinced me that the chances of me surviving even the slightest drizzle were slim, so I began my quest for new rubber.

Back in the day(as old pimps and R&B singers like to say), I would throw any old tires on my sled. Price was always the object. I tried to adhere to the principle of buying at least two tires so the pattern matched, but that was all the thought I put in to my purchase. Now I find myself worrying about brand names, raised white lettering (a must have on my SUV) and tread pattern. Don't even get me started on mileage warranties and road hazard protection. I can't just have any bargain basement remnant tire on my ride, I have to roll in style or not at all. Well, I still look at the price, but the now I go up a couple of notches from the bottom. I'm stylish, not stupid.

I actually had to order these tires. What a nightmare. I wanted to replace my tires with exact duplicates. After calling a few places, I found the best price. The tire jockey told me that they didn't have any in stock but would be getting five in today. Who buys five tires? He told me if I put down a deposit, he would hold them and they would be mine. I asked repeatedly if they were the exact tire I was rolling on now. "Yes sir, exactly the same." LIES! When I went to have them put on today,these tires didn't have the white lettering. I realize that getting so upset about white letters shows my lack of perspective, but I like what I like. Thankfully the big boss of tires overheard my squawking and offered me an upgraded tire at the same price.

Now I'm rolling on some sweet new tires and praying for a little snow to test out my traction. I may peel out a little tonight to break these bad boys in. Gotta go, I think I see some drizzle. Later...Brian

Thanks For Your Service

"Daughter" is off school today because it's Veteran's Day. At least this is the day our school district chose to use to remember our service men and women. If it weren't for all the sales at the mall, I wouldn't have known that Veteran's Day was anytime soon. That's a shame.

I never have understood why we honor fallen leaders or national heroes with deep discounts on bed linens and appliances. That however is a debate for another day. I think we need to give a little more fanfare to Veteran's Day. It sounds trite, but it is the ultimate sacrifice to give your life in service to your country. Granted, a lot of veterans were drafted into service, but they went anyway. Even the guys who chose the service over jail need to be given some props.

I was thinking today about all the men and women serving the county in Iraq. It doesn't really matter how you feel about the President or his policies. What matters is that you keep a good thought for all those people. I started thinking about my dad who served in Korea and my barber who served in Vietnam. Both of them came back whole, but a lot of people don't. They deserve for us to pay a little more attention . I think a law should be passed making Veteran's Day on Friday, so we could all head over to our local VFW hall for a fish fry.

So without any further speechafyin', I'll just say THANKS. You did, or are doing, something I would never want to do. Happy Veteran's Day. Later...Brian

Oh Brother

I was getting ready to post yesterday when I was pulled away on family business. Actually it was more like a family debate. It didn't involve "Wife" or "Daughter", but my extended family. Anyone who has siblings will be able to, as the kids say, feel me.

I have four brothers. That should start to explain things right there. We are trying to plan something together, which may make things even clearer. Trying to get all of us to agree on something is like trying to bring peace to the Middle East. You could say that it's because all five of us have different personalities, different priorities and strong opinions. You could say that, but you'd be way off. I think the problem is that all of us want to be chiefs. That makes for a restless tribe.

When we were kids, this used to manifest itself in daily blood letting in the yard. Sports and other games were the way we communicated our feelings and, like dogs, cemented our place in the pack. Usually in packs, some of the animals become submissive. Our problem is we are all alpha dogs. As adults, it's rather unseemly for us to settle our disagreements by playing a spirited game of "Kill The Guy With the Football" on the side of our Ma's house. Now instead of punching each other, we just stew in our own juices. I'm sure things will work out, I just needed to vent and I didn't have a football or anyone to tackle.

How bout that Britney Spears? She finally strapped on a pair and kicked K-Fed to the curb. It's too bad she waited until he had planted his demon seed in her twice to do it. I don't get what women see in guys like that. He had loser written all over him. He must have a huge crank or something, because she couldn't have loved him for his conversational skills. Now it's back to Fresno and his backup dancer school. She dumped him by text message too. Oh baby, that's cold. Who'd have thought she could type? She's got herself back in shape, she's single again, can Playboy be far off?

If you're up late tomorrow night, check out the big show on WGN from 1-5 am. It's always a good time. Here's another shameless plug. The holidays are coming, and what better way to show someone you care that by getting them one of my fabulous CDs. Go to www.briannoonan.com and pick up a copy of "Protect the Children" You'll laugh so hard, you'll forget your family squabbles. Have a great weekend. Later....Brian

Blog Buffet

There are a lot of things on my mind today, so it's time for another installment of Blog buffet. Eat what you like, leave the rest.

I spent last night in the belly of the political beast. One of my brothers is a fairly big deal when it comes to running campaigns. He was in charge of a high profile race in Chicago, and I went to the hotel where they were having the rally to see what happens on election night. I was a big fan of "The West Wing" so I had an idea what to expect. I was pretty close. There was a lot of brisk walking and talking, numbers being discussed and some drunk staffers in the ballroom who mistook me for a cop. I knew my brother was good at his job, but seeing him in action was pretty cool. He went from doing live TV interviews to secret discussions with the candidate to keeping the staff running smoothly. Bradley Whitford had nothing on him. It was pretty cool. I didn't say this to him last night, but I was proud of him. That was before we found out his guy had won. Unfortunately, that announcement didn't come until one this afternoon, so I missed the party.

I'm glad the elections are over. I was really sick of the negative ads. It was getting so ridiculous, I expected some of the candidates to drop any semblance of decency and just start throwing out wild accusations. "If you elect ______, he'll punch your baby." "Bob ______ for senate? He'll dry shave your grandpa." "A vote for _______ is a vote for cat fondlers." Think I'm crazy, just wait two years.

I'm sore as hell, which is a sad statement when I tell you why. I spent four hours working in the yard today. I wanted to get the leaves picked up and give the grass one last cut for the season. I also had to do a poop pick up. I try to stay on top of this, but for the last two weeks, rain and cold weather have conspired to keep me out of the back yard. I don't know about you, but standing in soggy shoes filling a grocery bag with dog doo in twenty degree weather has about as much appeal as having K-Fed date your sister. Today's adventure was made more difficult by the fact that the leaves were camouflaging the poop. I thought I had done a good job, but after cutting the grass, I had another pick up run. Grand total, three grocery bags. I need to teach my hounds to use the toilet.

I'm heading to the Comfort King to watch some TiVo and nurse my aches and pains. I never thought I'd reach the age where yard work would cripple me. Don't forget to get some soft serve before you leave. I think we have sprinkles. Later...Brian

I Voted

At least that what's the sticker on my jacket says. I went to exercise my civic duty this afternoon. I did it not only because I believe you can't bitch about things if you don't vote, but also because I never tire of seeing the old ladies who are acting as judges.

There's something heart warming about retired women suddenly being infused with temporary power. For the twelve hours the polls are open, these grannies are the protectors of the American way of life, and they won't let you forget it. In between gulps of cold coffee and chaws of beef jerky, they keep the polling place running smoothly. I walked into the back room of the library (a better choice than the garage I had to vote in while in California) and was greeted by the liver spotted tribunal. The first gate keeper demanded my name. From the tone of her voice I was expecting the next woman to shine a bright light in my eyes while the third muskateer asked for my papers. For whatever reason, my name was not on the list. Believing I was an infidel or third party supporter, Judge number one snidely asked, "are you sure you're supposed to vote here?" "Yeah, I think so" was my brilliant retort. She then escorted me to a map so big, astronauts could use it to find their way home, and demanded to know where I lived.

While I was boning up on my cartography, Judge number 2, who had been covertly listening to my whole exchange (Maybe not too covertly. The room was small, and my voice carries) piped up. "He's in the book!" Then the judges started squawking at each other like hens trying to avoid Colonel Sanders. It was finally determined that I was who I said I was, lived where I said I lived and was losing patience with the Democratic process. I received my ballot and as Jethro might say, commenced to votin'.

I hate to say this, but some of my votes were the lesser of two evil types. I really felt there were no good choices in some of the races. I do however enjoy bitching, so I voted to ensure my future bitchiness. Not to sound trite, but go vote. It really is one of the big things that our country has going for it, and yes, people have fought and died so we could keep doing it. Now stop rolling your eyes at me and get your pampered American ass to your local polling place. Then tomorrow we'll get a cup of coffee and start complaining. Later...Brian

Da Wine

Many times people become famous for one thing, but due to arrogance, greed and in some cases actual talent, move on to become successful in other fields. A lot of times the old saying "don't quit you day job" comes to mind when being subjected to the side careers of our favorite actors, singers and sports personalities. Do we really need to see Busta Rhymes vying for Oscar consideration, Don Johnson or Bruce Willis (I couldn't decide who was worse, so I lumped them together) catterwalling with some session band, or drink fine wines brought to us by every Chicagoan's favorite Grabowski? Put down your Boone's Farm kids, the coach is here.

It was announced today that Mike Ditka, yes that Mike Ditka, the one with the slicked back, Gordon Gecko hairdo and ever present wad of gum, has partnered with a California winery to produce five wines. The wines will ship this week, and each bottle will feature a doodle of the coach's head. There is no word yet as to whether the bottles will be swaddled in a vintage Bears sweater vest. The bottles will cost between 10 and 50 dollars and be sold at fine wine retailers like Costco. Brown bags sold separately. A top of the line bottle of Mike Ditka wine is some sort of zinfandel, syrah, petite sirah mish-mash called "Mike Ditka Kick Ass Red." If that doesn't scream extraordinary vintage, what does? The coach also has a pinot grigio for around $10. "My wife only drinks pinot grigio." Ditka announced while taking a break from counting his dirty money.

A lot of people, me included, question whether Coach knows anything about wine. He claims "there's no wine ever made that I didn't try." That settles it then. With that kind of pedigree, I know a lot of drunks who need their own label. Before you get too worried, Coach is quite the bon vivant. His name also appears on frozen pork chops, barbecue and steak sauces and a cheese spread. Who knew? The guy is quite the renaissance man. He lead the Bears to a Super Bowl victory and attended culinary school. I hear he's two months away from becoming a cardiac surgeon.

I don't mean to sound bitter. If I ever get famous, I'll lend my name to every two bit business that can back the dump truck of money up to my house. I'll slap my caricature on so many products, I'll make Krusty the Clown look like a business ethics professor. I just hope I can convince enough consumer lemmings to sit on a "Brian Noonan Comfort Ass Lounger", while enjoying the "Noonan Carp and Chips micro-wave dinner bowl" and wash it down with a cold can of "Brian's Brew." Then they can put on a pair of my signature footy pajamas and curl up under a faux down comforter with my head sewn into it and dream capitalistic dreams. Drink up. Later...Brian

I'm Sleepy

It's 6:30 Friday morning. I realized a half hour ago that I hadn't posted on Thursday. I know what you're thinking. "Did some horrible accident befall you or your family?" "Did extremists shanghai your computer?" "Were you a lazy bones who shirked his posting duties?" None of the above. I was napping.

I had received news that I would be filling in for the entire "Steve and Johnnie" show from 11 last night until five this morning. That meant I had to fool with my sleep schedule and that in turn made the rest of my day a wash. I got up early to get "Daughter" ready for school. Then it was off for an early morning hair cut. Listen, I know it's radio, but I still have an image to uphold. I got a sweet haircut and then headed home to do a little show prep. That's what we call it in the radio biz, show prep. You probably call it wasting a couple hours at the computer. After doing all my "show prep" I decided I had better do something substantial around the house so "Wife" wouldn't question my work ethic. I set about taking down the Halloween decorations outside. In hind sight, that may not have been the best chore to pick. It was about thirty degrees and the winds were blowing at about 137 miles per hour. The winds may have been blowing a little slower, but on the ladder taking down my floating ghoul, it sure felt like 137 MPH. After everything was safely tucked in the garage, it was off to bed.

There's something really strange about going to bed at three in the afternoon. I had to close all the blinds and the bathroom door in an attempt to make my room dark and cave like. I have enough trouble sleeping at night, now I have to snooze knowing that Judge Mathis is handing out some justice. Then I put in my ear plugs. I'll tell you, these are the greatest invention since another invention that blocks out sound. I put these things in and all I can hear is the sound of my own breathing. It's claustrophobic at first, but after a while, it seems like I'm scuba diving, and I drift away. I got up after, "Wife" and "Daughter" had eaten dinner, had a quick bite, and I was off for the six hour show. Things went great. I'm really happy with the way Laura and I are sounding and am grateful to all the listeners that called in. The show went very quickly.

Now I'm trying to stay awake so I can get "Daughter" off to school. Then it's off to bed for another weird sleep day. If you're schedule is odd too, check us out tomorrow night from 1-5am on the 50,000 watt blowtorch WGN. Have a great weekend. Go Bears! Later...Brian

Candy For Breakfast

Wow, Halloween was fun. I'm just coming down from my most recent sugar high, so I thought I should write something. I would have tried before, but the copious amounts of peanut butter M&Ms and mini Crunch bars in my system had me shaking like the business end of a Latina Hip Hop star.

We had over 100 kids come to the house last night. There were a lot of cute costumes, and the requisite amount of young punks in black sweat shirts and cheap masks. Our plan to become the cool house by giving out full size candy bars worked like a charm. From the "oohs", "aahs" and "cools" that we heard from the pint sized pan handlers, it was clear that our house would remain egg and toilet paper free. None of our decorations were disturbed either. That may have something to do with the fact that I made our big, scary looking dog quite visible or that it was about 28 degrees by the time trick or treating was over. Vandals have a hard time carrying out their nefarious plots when they can't feel their toes.

There is one thing that bothered me, and it was not a new development this year. There are a number of mooches who come to the door and just stick out their Halloween loot receptacle. They expect you to just toss your candy into their bag, pumpkin, pillow case, or whatever they have and let them go on their merry way with no effort. That doesn't fly on my porch. I may let it pass for a toddler who is so nervous they are on the verge of defiling their costume with an intestinal Halloween horror, but everyone else has to show me a little effort. More than a couple times, I was standing at the door looking at some wide eyed waifs holding out their sacks. "You gotta say it." I would demand. There was no question what I meant. Every time, I was answered with a resounding "Trick or Treat." Once you do your little dance for me, I pay off. Enjoy the candy. This year, I only had one manner deprived hooligan not say thank you. So you know I had to give him a sarcastic "you're welcome" as he trudged away.

Tomorrow I will take everything down, and another Halloween will be in the books. I got a couple good ideas for improving my scare level for next year. Hey, here's some last minute news. Stay up a little late Thursday night. I will be filling in on "The Steve and Johnnie Show" again. Tomorrow night, Laura Hirsch and I will be doing the whole show from 11pm-5am on WGN. It should be fun. Try to join us. Later...Brian