What now?

Tim Russert. Stan Winston. George Carlin.

I spent seven years living in Washington, D.C., slowly getting jaded about the state of government and media in this country. Too many people you meet (or go to school with or work with) there contribute to the dumbed-down superficiality of what the American public experiences. But Tim always seemed to be there to pose the tough questions that most others failed to ask, given the opportunity. We really need him now more than ever, but he is gone. I take much pride in knowing a handful of people who worked with him and share his ideals and passion. Hopefully they will carry his torch to get truth the large audience it deserves.

Stan was responsible for so many amazing creations we grew up with. I think the first time I saw his work on the big screen was Edward Scissorhands. But it was dinosaurs of Jurassic Park that really opened my eyes to the possibilities of transferring imagination to celluloid. Sure, there have been beautiful movies for many decades. But my life would certainly be a lot less exciting without the Terminator or the Predator to scare the shit out of my asshole.

And George got me through some pretty tough times when I was about twelve years old. My dad and I would listen to countless tapes of his in the car, and we would laugh for hours. He's responsible for most of my views on religion, politics and America in general, not to mention my most valuable possession: a sense of humor. He may have gotten a little cranky-old-man-ish these last few years, but I will be forever grateful for the laughter and insight he gave.

It's only natural for our heroes to leave us. These latest three are just part of a long list that for me includes Ray Charles, Dr. Seuss, Kurt Vonnegut, Roald Dahl, Phil Hartman and others who were gone before I was even born. I guess we just have to appreciate what they gave us and try to stand on their shoulders. We're supposed to become heroes for the next generation. I just don't think I'm ready for that yet.

Where is Walid?

Many moons ago, some friends and I gathered each week to cook delicious dinners and watch a great television show called 24. As a joke, I changed my cellphone ringtone so that whenever one of these three folks called, it would sound like the phones at Counter Terrorist Unit Los Angeles (Jack Bauer's office). What a great idea this turned out to be.

Now that I live in a different city, we don't talk often. But I know that whenever I hear those four distinct beeps, it's an important call. Chloe O'Brian's emergencies have become my emergencies.

For example, if I am pedaling along on a pleasant bike ride and my cell phone rings as usual, I just keep pedaling. But if that familiar CTU sound echoes, the call must be taken.

Without this distinct ringtone, I might not have been able to answer such important and immediate questions such as "Who played Arnold Schwarzenegger's boss in True Lies?" or "Where is there a Chipotle in Crystal City, Virginia?"

I look forward to solving many more problems in the future. Keep 'em coming, kids.

P.S. Charlton Heston and the corner of Crystal Drive and 23rd Street.