Slate compares and contrasts the four(!) different national versions of television's The Office, here. I was aware of the British and the American versions, of course, and generally preferred the original over the US ... but darn it if Steve Carrell doesn't get under a person's skin!
Ah, Searchie -- how lovely are the feet of them that bring comfort and company to the elderly and infirm. Still, however fond I may be of the Vans, slouchy boots and FM pumps, the Crocs remain an aesthetic lapse in the eyes of this beholder (they remind me too much of the "jellies" of Cyndi Lauper's day).
But who am I to pass aesthetic judgement? It's almost Friday, and thank God The Tiki Bar Is Open!! "Donn Beach and Trader Vic, it turns out, were the Stanley and Livingstone of the mid-century American jungle, blazing a trail deep into the world of pop fantasy and artifice from which America has yet to fully emerge." This (via ALD) has got me singing John Hiatt's delirious ode to a rippin' good bender. Hiatt takes care to point out that he remains a recovering alcoholic:
I know a drink ain't no solution
Haven't had one in 17 years
But if the Tiki Bar was close tonight
Well, I might just disappear!
Readers are encouraged to purchase the track at the MP3 venue of their choice, and get drunk on the music.