Manual Transmission

One of my high school friends -- really, only one, as far as I can recall -- drove a manual transmission car.  It was a green Kia Rio. Kat loved that car. She love tapped my also green Jeep Cherokee once, and I was pissed about it.  She’d probably have to be going 25 miles an hour to do any real damage to mine, but I loved my car, too. I made a trade with her that I would give her a copy of my Led Zeppelin cd collection if she’d teach me to drive it.  It was the first and only time I have driven a standard, and I remember thinking that it was pretty easy, except for first gear. I really want to get a standard transmission in my next car, but I cannot say how much faith I have in my memory from 20 years ago in her Kia Rio, especially since first gear comes up a lot.

She was a great sport about it.  We were, among other things, music friends, as my offering suggests.  I remember watching my Who concert dvd that day with her. We shared the bass solo in 5:15 melting our faces off.  It gets me everytime; I am not sure how many times I watched it.

She was coming off her first real breakup around that time.  We talked about that, how much she felt like it would be with her forever -- which is basically true of everyone’s first love.  I had gotten George Harrison’s Brainwashed for Christmas that year, and we listened to that, too.  There’s a song on it called Never Get Over You.  I remember her saying, “That’s how I feel about Ryan.”  She did, in fact, get over him.

I also remember her saying that she felt like would have a handful of very intense relationships like the one she had with him, but I would basically only have one, and that would be it.  I would find Her -- and I would just know.

Kat was one of my best friends, almost like extended family, but looking back, it is one of those things that still weirds me out to think that I project enough of whatever it is that I am for her to absorb it, synthesize it, analyze it, and return it to me in a way that I would not have sorted out on my own.  I still cannot say how she did it.

I had encounters with other girls before I met Her, of course, and sometimes I thought one of them might be Her.  But once I actually met Her, I knew Kat was right. When we first met, it took some effort for me to get her to realize what I had already realized, but honestly, in the scheme of things, it was nothing.  Not compared to what I got in return.

Our first date I asked Her out for coffee, and She said, “How about ice cream instead?”  Ice cream is way better than coffee!  That is how my life has been since.  We went to Dairy Queen and we sat outside.  We talked about ourselves and football. We are fans of semi-rival teams, so there is a natural conflict all the time on the subject.  We have been married for seven and a half years now and still talk about football and eat ice cream. The last time our teams met, they split the series.  It was not fun for either of us.

It became clear that both of us were thinking the same thing around Christmas time when we watched Step Up 2: The Streets at my place.  The thing is, it would not have mattered what it was that we watched.  You see, the gears just shifted right into place, like that is how they are supposed to fit.  Even the first one.

Discomfort, Indeed.

As my wife likes to remind me, I am not really a Southerner; I am a Floridian.  Even though the latitude of my birthplace is 3 degrees south of hers, I am still an outsider, a sort of mongrel, even though a sizable portion of my higher education and all of my professional life has been spent squarely in the South.  I'm not sure I'll ever get to be a member of that club, in part because I don't drink sweet tea and sound like I was born closer to to the Iowa River than the Chattahoochee, where my wife was.

I do feel like I understand this place somewhat, though, and certainly felt more at home in Clemson, South Carolina than I did in Terre Haute, Indiana.  I was an outsider there, too, because the Midwesterners categorized me as one of those from the other side of the Line. College is a place where identity is both calcified and shattered, sometimes more than once.  I never got the impression that there was all that much that identified an Midwesterner, really, or an "Hoosier" in particular.  In fact, nobody even knew what a Hoosier is.

The same could not be said in the Upstate of South Carolina.  The people there had a distinct sound -- distinct from the other side of the state, distinct from the other Carolina and distinct from the other side of the Savannah River.  I could not tell an Ohioan from an Illinoisan in nearly the same way I can pick out an Upstater from a Low Countryman from an Alabaman or a Tennesseean.  The food is different in these places, the music, the dress (especially the colors -- Red is not welcome in the Upstate, and Orange is frowned upon in Athens, Georgia), the sense of place and the sense of story.

I think the story telling comes from the Scots-Irish stock that populates the region; I am convinced there is something inherent in the Celtic blood that makes words pour out like honey -- whether it be from the mouth or the pen.  Like any other people with a strong sense of identity, it's strange to have someone else try to tell your story for you, so I am not even sure I am qualified to write this now, but when I came across this New Yorker piece, my reservations about my credentials receded lazily like the tide over the dark, cakey pluff mud of the Charleston marsh.

After spending some half a dozen paragraphs talking about how Southerners are stubborn, xenophobic, backward, somewhat barbaric, greedy, racist, ignorant, out of touch while culturally dominant, football and Nascar obsessed, tribalist, and violent, he closes with a couple of throwaway sentences that make it seem he's really not judging (the phrase that's used down here is, of course, "Bless his heart"):

But there is a largely forgotten Southern history, beyond the well-known heroics of the civil-rights movement, of struggle against poverty and injustice, led by writers, preachers, farmers, rabble-rousers, and even politicians, speaking a rich language of indignation. The region is not entirely defined by Jim DeMint, Sam Walton, and the Tide’s A J McCarron. It would be better for America as well as for the South if Southerners rediscovered their hidden past and took up the painful task of refashioning an identity that no longer inspires their countrymen.

The implication is that the South we have now is an inferior facsimile of what the South should be that is popularly understood to be personified in a recalcitrant Senator, a dead business man, and a football star, after he describes the region in precisely those terms.  I don't know what sort of inspiration Packer expects the natives of my adopted home state and our neighbors to provide when the the picture he paints of Southerners is so grim.  None of the buildup to this terminus tells us how the positive qualities do indeed benefit society at large outside of a rather ambiguous listing of positive traits: "At the end of “The Mind of the South,” Cash has this description of “the South at its best”: “proud, brave, honorable by its lights, courteous, personally generous, loyal.”  That sounds nice, until two sentences later, he extols vices to counter them.  He is treating my neighbors as either terrorists or children who ought to be mollified.

I am particularly sensitive to that sort of attitude because I chose to be among these people.  I picked Clemson University for graduate work.  I bought my first house in Augusta, Georgia.  I married one of the Peach State's daughters.  We decided together to move to Charleston.  And, in the next place we live, I am certain we will be greeted with y'alls, elongated vowels and an extremely dedicated knowledge of college football.  I like the polite conversation.  I like the weather.  I like the pace of life.  I like the sense of culture.  I like the emphasis on faith.

The task of refashioning the identity has been going on here for over 200 years.  Re-examinations of what it means to be born between Virginia Beach and El Paso came to a rather violent head in 1861, of course, and no one forgets it.  The benefit of losing, though, is being forced to have that conversation; the winner is spared from that kind of existential introspection.

So a magazine entitled the New Yorker is an odd place indeed to read about an explanation on what's going on inside of the cultural mind of the South, especially when, upon completing this story, I was offered a suggested reading link of this story. 

Like I said, I'm not actually a Southerner and I don't know if Packer is either..  I don't know why it feels like politics are dramatically different now than just two election cycles ago.  But I do know that Packer's infantile reduction of the region to the Republican Party, Wal-Mart and the SEC is not productive or accurate.  I am skeptical that you couldn't go to a small town in Michigan, Pennsylvania, or Oregon and find similar evidence of the low-brow to which Packer objects.  And so what?  What exactly is he trying to argue?

Goo goo gachoo Mr Roberts

I, like everyone else, was surprised by the outcome of the Supreme Court decision on the Affordable Care Act.  I did kind of anticipate that it would be struck down, like most of the smart money seemed to as well.  My personal impressions of the law are not especially positive, because, like the Obama Administration's characterization of the Constitutionality mechanism, is a bit of a bait and switch. 

As I hear about Roberts' explanation about defending ACA as a tax, I am pretty ok with his reasoning.  The powers granted to Congress for taxing are pretty broad and behavior changing taxes (particularly tariffs) have a long history; just because I think Congress can pass a tax, though, does not mean I think it's a good idea.  It is not called a tax in the body of the legislation, which to me is immaterial; if they called a future tax whiskey, it would not actually be whiskey and should not get special considerations simply because it is not actually called a tax.

The ACA does not really seem to be a health care reform, it's more of a health insurance reform.  It is kind of weird that the discussion always seems to center on the fact that the problem with our medical care is insufficient insurance (which, typically, isn't insurance at all; it's usually a payment plan for medical services) rather than addressing alternative means of access.  What I mean is that when I go into the doctor for anything from antibiotics for strep throat or a broken arm, I have no idea what it is going to cost nor what it should cost.  (Bear in mind, my wife is also a doctor.)  Why has there been no mention of a move towards transparency in costs?  By adding more people to insurance, that only gets more muddled, because somebody else is paying for a large share of it.  If we knew how much it cost, really, to examine, x-ray, set and follow up on a broken arm, then we could evaluate whether or not something like a 401k model for health expenses would be better, or what it would take to put that kind of control in our hands rather than some corporate accountant.

It also seems weird how excited Democrats are for that control to be given to insurance and pharmaceutical corporations.  On Meet the Press, Nancy Pelosi, of course, said the opposite, also while denying it was a tax (even though she conceded that it was clearly granted under the taxing power and would be collected by the IRS).  That's kind of a joke.  I don't have any particular aversion to corporations playing a role in our society, but it is really intimidating to think that I  don't have any idea what to expect to pay for anything.  I am going to get my wisdom teeth taken out and I could owe anywhere from $0 to a few thousand, and until they tel me, I won't have any idea how to plan for that.

I was quite glad to see that the majority did say that this is clearly outside the scope of either the commerce or necessary and proper clauses.  I am no attorney, but that seemed ludicrous on its face.  While it really does nothing to say that Congress could not just frame whatever they wanted to do in terms of a behavior influencing tax, that is much harder politically to implement -- hence this very discussion. 

Normally, taxes like this are presented as credits rather than penalties (like home interest deduction or incentives for buying energy efficient windows -- I lose money that would otherwise be on the table for not buying those products), but that distinction is pretty insignificant.  Any vote against a tax cut is an effective tax increase, and I think that should work in reverse, as well. 

I also do not really get how such a body really does fall down partisan lines every time.  Why is there that much latitude, really?  The Constitution is not Ulysses.  It is largely written in pretty plain language and that there can be such violent disagreement entirely rooted in a partisan manifestation is weird.  People have disagreements about interpretations of automotive specifications sometimes, but it is not like there is a pro-four door/anti-four door delineation of reading them.  It does make the court seem petty, and I tend to sympathize with the conservative wing on issues like this because the spirit of the document was to limit the powers of the Federal Government, and reading into it otherwise seems like using the Bible to justify child pornography. 

Responsibility is hard

I'm pretty sure it's evident, but I live in South Carolina again now.  It's my second favorite state, but has the potential to pull into first because I wasn't born here so I'll never really be accepted as one of their own but hope to participate in their society, like Jame Goodall and the apes, but since I live with my wife here, the best times of my life are ahead of me with her here.  I also had two pretty good years at Clemson.

As a resident of the Palmetto State (which has a rather obsessive, borderline creepy relationship with its imagery [see below]), I get to vote in the primaries tomorrow.

As a former opinions editor, this makes me giddy.  It's like Christmas or St Patrick's Day that only comes around every four years.  Politics are the bread and butter of opinions editors, and most other people don't like discussing it, and when they do, they normally don't know what they're talking about.  So, soccer fans, I know how you feel.

 I went through the emotional gamut that I always go through during these primaries -- excitement about the strength of the field, and then eventual disappointment once we get to know them. That's the way that most things work, though; I got excited about watching the Orange Bowl, and well, that was kind of a disappointment, too.  Really, though, it's not as bad as it looks, because exaggeration gets attention.  "Worst. Episode. Ever."  It's funny because it's absurd.

My position, as described by the political compass, is economically right and a little libertarian.  (See below again.)  So, I'm trying to figure out where I fall.  Sounds kind of mopey, like every high school drama, "Where do I belong?"  But really, that's the fun.  That's what life is like.  It's choosing the new meal at the restaurant, seeing the new movie, and surprising your wife with something fun.  It's figuring it all out.  This time, figuring out for whom I want to vote is quite significant for the rest of the county.  It's fun, but it's also a little intimidating, because it feels important.

I have taken this responsibility seriously, pretty aggressively consumed the media about the candidates to make informed decisions and I hope that when it's your turn, you will too.  People say every election, "This is the most important election of our time."  It might be true every time, but if so, it's silly to say.  That's like saying, "This is the most important meal ever.  If I never eat again, I'll die.  So I must eat this Reuben sandwich."  I do love Reuben sandwiches, though.

Singing off of what?

Dr. Sighted loves the Sing Off.  In the mornings, she occasionally makes me watch a Capella versions of Queen or Britney Spears or Daft Punk.  There are few things she likes more than people singing pop songs without music, and one of them is competing in things that aren't appropriately competitive.  So, really, this is a match made in heaven for her.  Or, at least, a heavily focus grouped Los Angeles boardroom.

It's actually a pretty entertaining concept, when they do a good job.  One of the groups did Video Killed the Radio Star that was better than the Buggles.  I don't remember if I saw it live or on Dr. Sighted's phone in the car.  The best part, though, is the talking from the judges and the host.

Nick Lachey hosts, and for a guy who used to be in a boy band and married to Jessica Simpson, is surprisingly wooden with every obligatory pun that he reads from the cue cards.  I don't know if he's thinking, "Dammit, I'm better than all of these jokers!" while he says, "We're going to see if the Ball State Ballers are going to get caught in a trap with this Elvis tune -- using only their voices!," but he is not acting like he is having fun, and quite frankly, that makes me have fun watching him.

The judges have their moments, too.  Shawn Stockman is like the wacky guy who has positive things to say.  He's also the most boring, because he's nice..  Ben Folds is also there, and I can't help but think that he's really Dana Carvey dressed as Ben Folds.  I know who he is and all, but I'm not convinced that he's a real person.  Ben Folds never fails to talk about the groove in every post-song commentary.  Every single one.  I have yet to know what any of them mean.

The best, without question, is Sara Bareilles.  I'm still not quite sure why she's famous.  Dr. Sighted has repeatedly told me that she sang, "Not Gonna Write You a Love Song," but I'm pretty sure that song is actually by Colbie Caillet.  (I saw her in concert by accident once.  [Isn't it weird that they both have unnecessary i's in their names?])  She is sarcastic, occasionally nonsensical, and sometimes mean.  Just tonight, she said something like, "I'm not sure if the reason I didn't like your performance was because you were trying to hard or your stage props but I just wasn't into it."  And then there was Nick, right on cue, saying, "Thank you judges.  And next we'll see if we can resist Vocal Point's version of the British Invasion -- using only their voices!"*

*None of the quotes in this post are real.

Blow it up

This blog cut its teeth on criticizing commercials, and quite frankly, I think I ought to get back to my roots. I don't watch as much tv now as I did in school, so it's going to be harder to actually manage. Now that football has started, and Dr. Sighted is inconsolable because UGa is behind by 2 TDs right now to Boise, we are seeing and will continue to be seeing more commercials. She did a better job during the first half of the Clemson game when we looked like injured garbage. Adjusting to marriage is hard.

Dick's (the sporting goods store) has a fun campaign where they have professional athletes giving instruction to people buying apparel and explaining why they need it and how it will make them perform better. A few memorable ones were Darelle Revis selling shoes or shorts or whatever and talking about going to his island -- Revis Island -- only to find out that his protege is named Gilligan. There is another one involving Ndomakong Suh (best name ever) hunting quarterbacks selling whatever Revis wasn't There is a good one now with Steven Jackson (not the basketball player) moving in slow motion. There is one, however, that goes over dumber than Kris Humphries answer inevitably will the first time Kim Kardashian asks, "Does this make my butt look big?"

Clay Matthews is the go to guy after the Packers won the Super Bowl, because he looks like a mutant Midwestern wrestler with hair like the cute blonde in your sophomore biology class. He is selling shorts or shoes or whatever in this commercial and it's just him running into stuff in the store. No clever comment from the store, they try to be funny with the family blocking him, except there's nothing going on that they are blocking. There's nothing to blow up! There should have been cowboys robbing a train or a caped man with a handlebar mustache kidnapping Song Girls (Clay went to USC, you see [the real one in LA, not the fake one in Columbia, SC] and the Song Girls are the best thing about the school) that he could blow up. Right now, it just feels like build up with now release. No snap, no crackle, no pop!

The wasted opportunity of the situation is what gets me most. Bad commercials are a dime a dozen -- just ask Taco Bell. But bad commercials with potential to be great? They are the ones that make us feel like we did when Utah State choked away the Auburn game today.

Reaching out and touching

Hey everyone, it's that time again -- cell phone time. I've come to you before with this issue, but I didn't pull the trigger because my job wouldn't let me have one before. Now the world is a different place, I can play with toys at work, and my phone needs to start picking up some of the intellectual slack in this relationship.

Dr. Sighted has largely settled on the iPhone, because "it has more medical apps." Sure it does. But, as for me, the world is my oyster. I'm pretty sure that there is 4G to be had in our area, and I think I want it. I've never had any Gs before, but settling for less than 4 really seems irresponsible at this juncture based on what I know so far.

I am AT&Ter at the moment, but she's a Verizonist (it's a mixed marriage) and we have pretty much decided that I'm going to convert since the reception is better a work for her kind. I am trying to sort out whether I want a Samsung Charge, LG Revolution or HTC Thunderbolt or just doing the simple thing and iPhoning myself. Do any of you have any thoughts? There are rumors all over the place about awesome new phones right around the corner, and I don't to be further left behind. Then again, I'm on the Trabant of cell phones right now (an improvement over the Soviet Phone Mark II, at least), so will I really miss not being on the leading edge? That's a silly question; as awesome as I am, I deserve the best.

Freedom Just Around the Corner for You

I think language is fun. You pretty much have to in order to write a blog, something that Dr. Sighted loves making fun of me about. I was going to write about a clever hook in a song, but got to thinking that since I merged the Fear and Trembling part of the blog with this space, I really ought to the think twice, because that line is not the sort of thing you'd say in mixed company. (It's a sexual thing not a pee joke. I continue to reserve the right to make pee jokes in this blog. Poo grosses me out, though, so it's not funny.) This got me thinking about Christian Liberty again about something other than alcohol, which is kind of refreshing.

This topic is something I've thought about a lot and written about before, and art (as an extension of my appreciation of language) is something I think is valuable as humans and Christians. But, 2 Cor 6:16-18 points out that we should associate with no unclean thing. Rom 12:2 reminds us that we should be different after choosing to follow Christ, separate from earthly things. 1 Cor 10:23-24 famously says that "Everything is permissible, but not everything is profitable..." So, I think an argument could be made that anything that that is not active worship or sustenance is bad. I think there are people who believe that, but I feel like I am using weasel words and that makes me feel like a jerk. No jerks allowed on this blog, so I'll stop.

I think that's overstating it. Proverbs 3:13-14 praises people who learn (but in the context of 3:3-5, it's not to build oneself up but to expand your relationship with God and other people). The point, though, is that learning is not necessarily active worship. Luke 15:11-31 (the Prodigal Son) describes the Kingdom of God in the contexts of celebrations, implying that celebrations are good in the appropriate context, and celebrating isn't inherently worship either. (Note: I specifically opted not to mention Psalm 104:14-15 which thanks God for his role in growing bread and making wine in order to demonstrate my self-control.)

I think the important thing from that is that context is relevant. Intent and sincerity are relevant. Celebration isn't inherently worshipful, but it can be. Learning isn't inherently worshipful, but it can be. Both of those things, in fact, can be sinful if abused. I think the same is true of art and how we view it.

If I watch South Park, Dogma, or The Life of Brian and simply enjoy them for the surface level vulgarity and titillation, that's probably not ok, but if I appreciate them for their satiric value exposing hypocrisy, they might be. I think the same attitude is true about alcohol -- Prov 20:1 says that Wine is a mocker and beer is a brawler, yet SoS 1:4 praises your (presumably Solomon's) love more than wine, implying that wine is good -- which are written by the same author. Intent is important -- Song of Solomon is a book entirely about seduction, which is really an untapped aspect of the Bible's PR, but an excellent case study of the importance of context. Habakkuk, in Hab 1:2-4 questions God's commitment to His truths, but the context is one of seeking justice, seeking to know Him better, not one of disrespect or lack of confidence. (The book concludes in chapter 3 with a long song of praise.) Habakkuk is one of the Deep Tracks of the Old Testament.

So, if I remind myself that the line "The neighbors complain about the noises above/ But she only comes when she's on top" is extremely clever in appreciation of language as a tool created by God, and in the context of thanks for the talent to be able to identify with its intricacies and delight in its power. However, because it is vulgar, I must remind myself of that. I must also be aware and respectful of the concerns raised in Romans 14 about stumbling blocks to others as well. And I must be sincere, because lies make Baby Jesus cry.

While I write this, a bumper on the news used "Way Down Yonder on the Chattahoochee," which also has a sexual reference in it, yet I doubt there are many who would object to it on grounds of vulgarity. Or "I Love Rock and Roll," or "Only the Good Die Young." But that doesn't make the casual ignorance of vulgarity in James's "Laid" ok. Because Jesus turned water into wine is not an excuse to drink wine to get drunk. And I think if I am going to have a drink, have Laid on my iPod or throw parties that aren't explicitly worshipful, I need to be able to defend myself and maintain the attitude of sincerity and thankfulness of the gifts I have received, because I need that attitude all the time.

Everything is new all over again

A lot has been happening and changing in my life lately. New wife, new job, new city, new house, new kitchen knives, and a new dog (sort of). One thing I've learned through the course of all of this "newness" is that people like to pay a lot of attention to you. And you know what? It's awesome. Attention is fantastic; it's why people want to be famous, it's why girls where slutty clothes, it's why arsonists start fires. It's a little weird to start coming back down to earth, since my brother and his fiancee are taking the bar today and tomorrow and will be getting married in November, and it's their turn now. I'll have to think of something to steal the spotlight again once I get bored.

One thing that is missing from that new list is new church, because getting settled into a new place is hard. We had a pretty good thing going in Augusta, so we're looking for a group like that, we've tried four so far: First Baptist Charleston, Grace on the Ashley, East Cooper Baptist, and Ashley River Baptist. Nothing final yet, but it's something that I am starting to recognize that needs to happen sooner rather than later. I find it's much easier to lose focus (hey! is that a bird? [Actually the other day, a cardinal {not the Catholic dignitary} was hanging out on my porch. The new dog (sort of) didn't even notice.]) when you're not plugged in. Also, it's a grounding I could use after having four months of people solidly asking me what's next for such an exciting life. ("Well, after a few weeks in South America, I think we'll summer in Charleston.")

It's a reminder, really, that to be successful in Christianity, you can't really exist out there on your own. A lot of people feel that it's a personal matter better served in private, and while part of that is true, it's a self-deception to think that you can grow alone. You need to be plugged into a community, growing and struggling together with other people. I have been encouraged, though, that a lot more people at work than I was expecting to have asked me if I have found a church home yet. I haven't been reading or praying as much for a variety of reasons, but it just feels easier without being part of a church community. Just like my clothes get piled up on the floor a lot less often now that I have a wife living with me. I also watch a lot less Dirty Jobs.

Anyway, I am hoping for humility and discipline as we try to get settled, and to be a good leader for Dr. Sighted. Also, I am looking forward to eating really good Charleston food at church cookouts.

The Fall is Becoming My Favorite Season

I am watching my first Braves game of the season in HD. I've caught a little better than half a dozen, probably, and not a one of them has been in HD, because of the move and how my beloved tv (let's call her "Trudy") has been in storage. Dr Sighted's tv, a might 13 incher, made me pine for the apple of my tv watching eye. Baseball is fine, and the Braves are doing very well considering they are in the same division as the best team in baseball, but it just doesn't measure up to the fall sports, sadly. Fall is when the best tv events happen, namely, football season resumes (Go Clemson!), which, as far as television experience goes, is like soy sports.

Summer used to be my favorite of the seasons, because I like warm weather and there was no school. Now that I'm married and adult and what not, it's still good, since long days mean more time for barbecuing and warm water for beach going (I haven't been in so long, though, that I'm not sure it would recognize me anymore -- it's the one with the sand, right?), the school benefits don't really apply as much and my youthful resilience to the heat requires me to drink a lot more water and change my shirt a lot more often. Fortunately for me, my sweat smells like cinnamon, so it's more a comfort issue for me than a smell one.

Another thing that comes up in the fall is Psych. Dr. Sighted has turned me on to the this program, and it is the flagship of the USA shows, which, I'm pretty sure, are all exactly the same. They found their formula and they are sticking to it with Law & Order like consistency. Psych, White Collar, Burn Notice, Suits, Covert Affairs, and Royal Pains are all exactly the same show in different contexts. I've gotten in arguments with people in my life over this, so I feel like the guy in Mystery Men trying to convince William H Macy that Greg Kinnear really is Captain Amazing. Yes, I just reference Mystery Men.

Here's the premise: the main character has some sort of outlandish skill that is not quite superhuman although still wildly unrealistic, but just specialized enough to make him excellent in a specific niche but also has a somewhat (or very) troubled past that is probably not his fault that causes him to be an outsider in the community where that very skill would ordinarily permit him to excel. He has a loyal but confrontational cadre of friends who stick with him through thick and thin, lives in a place with an odd frequency of circumstances where his skill is useful, and there is a minor celebrity who somehow is part of the action (Psych - Corbin Bernson. White Collar - Tiffani Amber Thiessen (your Amber will always be in my heart, Tiffani. [Also, Dr. Sighted asked, "Is that Kelly Kapowski? Her face looks fat." when we watched an episode. Yes. Yes that is Kelly Kapowski and shut your mouth.] Covert Affairs - Piper Perabo. Burn Notice - Bruce Campbell, although it causes me actual physical pain to call him a minor celebrity.). There are, inevitably remarkable opportunities for witty quips, charming romantic plotlines, and temptations that try to push our hero off the straight and narrow but he (or she) always chooses the right path.

It's brilliant, really. Psych does feel a little bit different, but I can't quite tell how; it might be just that I like it better. I also don't know why I don't like them all with the same enthusiasm I do Psych and Burn Notice (or even the Mentalist, for that matter, which is basically the same show as Psych except less funny, two years later, and more Australian). So, if you like lawyer shows, there's Suits. If you like doctor shows, there's Royal Pains. If you like spy shows, you have a choice! Still no engineer show, so far. Closest thing is White Collar, with a suave, handsome gentleman using only his wits to solve interesting problems. Was that convincing? Oh well. By the way, did the find the pineapple?