Bill Kurtis

I can't eat in public anymore. I never thought this would be a problem that I would grow up to have, but alas I'm developing a tendency to create hubbubs in eateries.

Once or twice a week I leave work to eat lunch. I always eat alone. It makes me feel chic, like I'm too cool for school...or maybe just too cool for friends. The act of going out to eat is pretty much where my man-about-town fairy tale ends as the places I go are far from high society hang-outs. Most of the restaurants I'm talking about are named after Al or Bernie and the word "beef" or "grill" can be found somewhere in the restaurant's name.

I was in my favorite ethnic delicatessen (read: Chinese food joint) eating my weekly helping of chicken fried rice. I was in Yu Choy (pictured above) for 10 minutes when an older gentleman with a familiar face and an even more familiar voice sat at the table in front of me and ordered chicken dumplings.

I quickly identified him as popular Chicago journalist-cum-AT&T-wireless-Internet-spokesman Bill Kurtis. Whenever I'm in the presence of someone with a modicum of notoriety (it doesn't happen often), I ask myself "how famous is this person in front of me, really?" That is to say, is this person famous enough that distant family members are going to call to say they saw me mixed in with all the media and paparazzi on CNN? Is this person famous enough to be one of the B-listers on "Dancing With the Stars?" or is this person famous like the mildly crazy guy in town whom everyone knows to avoid?

As far as I know (and could tell from watching him eat his dumplings) Bil Kurtis seems more likely to end up dancing with Cheryl Burke than on CNN or the dumpster in my alleyway.

Bill Kurtis (pictured: right) is famous, but with a small "f."

He's famous enough that the Hispanic owner of the Chinese restaurant (?) also recognized him. After gathering around three of his employees to validate his suspicion that the old guy at table four was, in some way, famous, the owner made his approach... with a steaming bowl of shrimp chop suey in hand.* I could tell it was shrimp chop suey, because before he shimmied on over to Mr. Kurtis' table, he brought me my check. His focus was on Bill Kurtis now. He was done with me and the check was his way of signifying it.

Because the book I brought with me was just so-so, by now it only served as a beard disguising my spying on the unfolding theater in front of me. I wondered if the restaurant owner would still hand Bill Kurtis the fresh bowl of suey if Bill Kurtis turned out to be some regular dude with a smooth voice. There weren't any customers in the place without food, how would the owner have covered that up? It was Bill Kurtis, so I'll never know.

*Mmm. Shrimp chop suey. Sparing no expense, I see.

A healthy dose of gushing took a one way trip from the owner to Bill Kurtis. It was muted enough that I couldn't hear exactly what was said. Again, with certain celebrities, you can probably guess what someone would say in that situation.

"Oh Madonna, you look so good for your age... well, I don't mean your age, like you're old, I meant your age as in, 'my God you're 50 and you look 16...' But...but I'm not implying you had plastic surgery. You're 50. Be proud of that...not that you're not... I'm just saying you look healthier than people your age usually look. You look great... you totally look good enough to pull off messing around with A-Rod... not that you were, just that you could..."

But the restaurant owner probably wasn't bringing up A-Rod in his conversation with Bill Kurtis. They exchanged a few more pleasantries and then it got to the point where it would have been awkward for the owner to stand hovering above this poor old (68) guy with two plates of food, one of which he had not ordered. So the owner returned to my table, picked up the money I left with the check and made change. He returned quickly, always with one eye on the famous television anchor, shoveled my change and my check (again) at me and returned to the table in front of me to attend to the whims of Mr. Kurtis (who didn't really seem to have any whims) and to provide an epilogue to the star struck show the owner had been putting on in front of me these last few minutes.

The owner felt comfortable enough to bring a few of the restaurant's cooks over to visit with Bill Kurtis. They weren't asking for autographs or taking pictures. They weren't really chatting with him, either. They were more like watching him chew. Like a scorned wife waiting for her husband to drop dead after eating the soup she poisoned. Everyone huddled around Kurtis waiting for...I dunno, something.

My bill was $7. I left a $2 tip, the high-roller that I am, and finished the two pages left I had in my book's chapter. I gathered my jacket, book and phone and headed for the exit. In the rigmarole surrounding Kurtis, it didn't seem as if anyone was paying attention to me until I heard an angry voice behind me loudly saying "Hey, man!"

Being a man, it seemed reasonable that the statement was directed toward me.

I turned around and the tiny owner was right behind me like we were attached to each other by four feet of rope. He had my check and my $2 in his fist.

"You gotta pay your bill, man," the owner said.

This was confusing because I had paid the bill. I wouldn't know how to go about paying for something twice. I glanced over the owner's head at Bill Kurtis who was (seemingly) not paying attention to the confrontation.** I felt this all somehow had something to with Kurtis and kinda hoped he would, at least, rubberneck in his seat.

** Bill Kurtis is a wily journalist. I now realize he heard every word we said. Well played, old man.

I explained to the owner that the cash he had in his hand was the tip, made from change he had given me just a few minutes ago in a gushing haze of Kurtis excitement. Okay, I didn't say anything about Bill Kurtis, but I was hoping the owner would infer why this mistake was happening. Star gazing Bill Kurtis made this guy think I was dine-and-dashing.

What am I? Miss Louisiana Teen USA?

I am not Miss Louisiana Teen USA.

I'm surprised more people aren't as afraid of this situation as I am. Everyday instances of my-word-against-yours could happen and sometimes do. This was not going to court and I had to decide whether I was willing to walk - perhaps force my way - out of the restaurant (and never come back) or avoid confrontation and pay my bill a second time. I stalled the decision altogether and tried to explain the exact same situation a second time. I again told the owner that "for some reason" he handed me the check along with my change, but that I had paid the bill.

For the owner, it was simple, if the check is one the table it must mean that the customer didn't pay. There's a process, a system, he does this dozens of times a day. Why would that system fail now?

Bill Kurtis, that's why. Damn you, Bill Kurtis.

During my second attempt at explaining the situation, one of the cooks previously gawking at the CBS journalist earlier joined our little pow-wow with a $20 bill in his hand (presumably my $20 bill). He held it in front of the owner as if it were verifiable proof that I had paid. I couldn't imagine that either of them had memorized the serial number of the bill, and the sad thought crossed my mind that my bill was the only twenty in the drawer. Inexplicably I nodded and agreed that the bill in the cook's hand was my bill. "Yup, that's it. Can't you tell? Looks just like the bill I handed you. Andrew Jackson, right? Yeah, totally. That's mine."

The owner was instantly appeased. He apologized and handed me a free fortune cookie, apologizing profusely. I was relieved, nnot mad although I was struck with the irony that Bill Kurtis was more likely to steal from them than I was, as the journalist has a recent history of theft (see video below). And if Yu Choy was willing to give Bill Kurtis some free shrimp suey just for showing up, shouldn't I have had the same for being wrongly accused?

Literally Paying for Your Mistakes

What is it about obcene amounts of money that makes people act like shameless shitheads?

I'm surfing the Interweb trying to quench my thirst for Miley Cyrus news when I get bombarded with details about record-breaking weekend profits. Gaudy numbers like $46.7 million and $45.4 million were involved.

The weekend grosses for "Dark Knight" and "Tropic Thunder" you ask? No. Good guess, but definately wrong.

Turns out crappy musician Phil Collins felt that two failed marriages weren't reasons enough to remain a bachelor, so he decided to get married a third time.

Just in case.

"For good measure," Phil thought. "I had better marry someone 22 years younger than me. 'Cause what could go wrong?"

I don't know how much money he has, but he's got $46.7 million less than he did a month ago. Before, Phil Collins' held the record as the only musician with the ability to out-crap Peter Gabriel, now Collins has a new record: most expensive divorce settlement in British history.

Paul McCartney thanks you Phil, for getting him off the hook.

Believe it or not, my anger isn't pointed at Phil Collins, but Phil Collins' wife and perhaps the divorce lawyers involved in the settlement. Why is it automatic that when a star gets divorced, he (and it's almost always he isn't it?) takes a financial bath? Who do these wives think they are?

I know, I know. These wives think they're mothers and it costs money to raise kids. That's always the excuse. Ten generations of my family won't need $47 million, but Phil Collins' kids can't make due without. The whole motherhood defense is a rickity bridge in a violent wind, if you ask me. Right now, if someone offered you $23 millions to have a kid and raise it for 18 years, would you take it?

Most of you would. I would too. Right now.

One kid. $23 million. $47 for two kids, I'm on board with that too.

How must Collins' wife (or any wife who gets a large percentage of their husband's net worth) justify this? I don't mean justify in the context of the law, I'm mean justify to themselves? What did Orienne Cevey do to earn $46.7 million dollars (besides pretend to like Genesis, a feat worth $13.5 million tops)?

I'm hip, okay? I've heard Kanye West warn us about gold diggers. I remember that before she was America's nouveau Marilyn Monroe, Anna Nicole Smith was among the most blatant settlement whores. I know all about Donald Trump. None of this is news, but as the settlements grow exponentially and the women reaping the benefits seem to do less and less, my rage also expands.

Are feminists mad about this growing trend? Are men protecting themselves more before they marry?

And dear God, does this mean that Phil Collins is going to put out more records in hopes of earning some of that money back? 'Cause whatever Cevey stole from Collins under the guise of "mental pain and suffering," it ain't nothing compared to what she'd owe millions of people across the world if that man decides he needs to continue making music.

Celebrity Pee

My understanding of human urine is that the clearer it is, the better. If the pee is a vivid Mountain Dew-ish color, the urinator is dehydrated. I can't help but feel cheated when my urine is clear though. When I eject a nuclear gold fluid from my body, it seems appropriate that it was supposed to leave my body. When clear pee leaves my body, it seems like simple water. Our bodies are 60 percent water, why bother peeing that stuff?

I talked to my sister about celebrities and the desire of some people to keep a piece of celebrities for themselves. I don't have this desire, but my sister does. I'm uninterested in meeting most celebrities. The odds are just too string that they're nothing like their public persona and their public persona is the only reason I like them in the first place. Why mess with that?

My sister disagreed. She said she would take anything if it came from one of her favorite celebrities. An old tee-shirt. An inkless pen. Chewed gum.

My sister's favorite celebrity is U2 frontman Bono. I asked her if she would take a Dixiecup filled with Bono's pee. She accepted this hypothetical with an alarming lack of questions, asking only if it were a regular store-bought Dixiecup and how high the pee would be filled within that cup, which I found funnier than anything I could come up with. I decided that Bono's pee would be in a regulation tiny paper cup filled to the brim. Additionally, it would be verifiably Bono's urine (no funny business with ripoff artists eating a bunch of carrots, peeing into cups and passing it off as Bono's pee, Tom Hanks' pee or Hillary Clinton's pee).

Unbelievably, she said she would totally take the Dixiecup.

Now look, I understand this isn't discovering cold fusion, but sociologically speaking it's kind of fascinating. My sister grew up almost exactly as I did and yet feels completely different about the whole human excrement topic as I do.

Axl (not Axel) Rose's sweaty concert shirt gets encased in glass. Mickey Mantle's glove gets a place of honor on the mantelpiece and the autographed photo of Spiro Agnew gets framed. What happens to a Dixie full of celebrity pee? Admittedly, she hadn't thought that far ahead. We both agreed that a small paper cup is no way to display a collectible from a celebrity as famous as Bono. Which leads to the awkward acknowledgment that at some point, the pee must be transferred to a more showcase appropriate artifact.

Spilling will almost certainly occur in this transfer, which changes this hypothetical to whether or not you would accept 3/4 of Bono's pee in a cup and 1/4 of Bono's pee splashed on your forearm?

And what would the introduction of the pee sound like to people seeing it for the first time? Would my sister really say something like, "This was my first place trophy for square dance in high school, this is my blue ribbon for my doggie treat recipes and this is a mason jar full of Bono's urine."

When I brought up my concerns to my sister, she didn't answer and, in fact, refused to acknowledge that I was even talking to her.

I guess she realized I was going to continue the conversation with or without her. I can't be sure what my sister was thinking because she moves in mysterious ways. Perhaps she knew that none of her explanations were good enough and that I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

I can't think of any more Joshua Tree references so I'll stop now.

Girls! Girls! Girls! (2009)

Since the summer of 1998, my (guy) friends and I have ranked just about anything we can think might fall in some sort of debatable chronology. It was only a matter of time before we sunk so low as to rank our hottest celebrities. I first published this tomfoolery three years ago, feel free to gander at how little I've matured since then.

Lauren Graham, 42, a perennial favorite from 2002-2008, ranked 17th last year and 10th in 2007, has officially been retired until a "Gilmore Girls" movie is released or she makes her way onto one of those "Traveling Pants" movies.

Others dropped off the list were Michelle Rodriguez (20), Ellen Pompeo (19), Jennifer Connelly (18), Emilie de Ravin (16), Jessica Rose (13) and Kate Hudson (11) This year brings five rookies making their way onto the Top 10 board.

God, I hope I'm not still doing this when I'm 50 years old.

Top 20 Girls My Girlfriend Had Better Watch Out For 2009
Parenthesis indicate last year's rank.

20.
19. Leryn Franco, 27 (-)
18. Christina Aguilera, 30 (5)
17. Hayden Panettierre, 20 (9)
16. Evangeline Lilly, 30 (7)
15. Christina Hendricks, 34 (-)
14. Mary Elizabeth Winstead, 25 (14)
13. Amanda Bynes, 23 (12)
12. Mary Louise Parker, 45 (14)
11. Catherine Zeta-Jones, 40 (5)











10. Emmanuelle Chiriqui, 31 (4) 9. Zooey Deschanel, 29 (-)











8. Mila Kunis, 26 (10) 7. Alexis Bledel, 28 (8)













6. Julianne Hough, 21 (3) 5. Rashida Jones, 33 (-)

















4. Maggie Gyllenhaal, 32 (1) 3. Gina Carano, 27 (-)





























2. Minka Kelly, 29 (-)

























1. Mandy Moore, 25 (2)






I've never included a professional model on any of these lists. I've thought a lot about that while compiling this thing (and masturbating). In the past I've justified not doing it because of my perception that being a model is all models are capable of doing and that beauty cannot be the only reason I would place one woman above thousands of others. I'd like to think of myself as better than that, above that, even on a juvenile list such as this. Perhaps by forcing this list to be more about beauty, I could believe it wasn't as juvenile. Making this list about perceived intelligence and ability coinciding with beauty served the same purpose as putting articles in between pictures of naked Playmates.

It's fucking culture, man.

Two things are true for this list: 1) I find Miranda Kerr and Adriana Lima far, far more attractive than most of the girls that ended up in my top 10. 2) I never once considered putting Miranda Kerr or Adriana Lima on this list.

And that's supremely confusing to me because I don't have any real reason why I never considered it. Perhaps this list is just as much about perceived intelligence as it is about attractiveness. And even if our actresses or musicians don't play smart roles or sing intelligent songs, maybe the ability to have learned how to sing or act is enough to convince me that the hampster is on the wheel. That would explain why I left Kim Kardashian off. As attractive as I find her, I cannot get around how vapid she appears to be.

But then there's Heidi Klum. She's making more money from the two television shows she's created (and from the Vicoria's Secret specials that she produces) than from any modeling gig she's ever done. If nothing else, Klum has proven she's got tons of business savvy. I certainly don't think she's as vapid as Kardashian. But Klum ain't making this list either. And I think that's based on my perception that although she's friggin' gorgeous and intelligent, she's also not very kind. And I'm just not into that.

If I'm going to canonize people, I'd like to believe they're not bitches. For as much (and as long) as I liked Catherine Zeta-Jones, this was always her one drawback: she seems like a bitch - mostly because she's made a career playing bitches.

And I guess that's the one flaw about these lists - I don't put enough weight on beauty. I weigh their work and my perception of what they brought to a song or a role. Instead of enjoying Christina Hendricks' monster, monster bombs on "Mad Men" I consider that I haven't seen her do anything else other than that role. I find myself turned-off by my perception that Rihanna is a young, messed up kid instead of just appreciating "Disturbia" and the fact that she looks like this.

Jennifer Garner's proximity to Ben Affleck? Dealbreaker. Abby Elliott's proximity to Chris Elliott? Dealbreaker.

So here are the girls from 2009 and the entire preceding decade with whom I most wanted to do a combination of fucking and socializing.

Top 10 Girls of 2009


10. Emilie de Ravin, 28 (not ranked) She dropped off the list last year. Her return in '10 is the equivalent of a doctor desperately trying to resuscitate a body that has already been pronounced dead. It's probably a fruitless venture, but why not give it one last go-'round. And if the final season of a super-popular network television show and a rom'-dram' with the world's most popular "it" actor can't get her firmly into the public eye than nothing will.


09. Emma Stone, 21 (not ranked) I'm guessing that Demi Moore and Kathleen Turner were young at one point. But since I can't prove it, I can really only use Emma Stone as an example of how terribly sexy a smokey voice is on someone so young. she also fills my overbite quota.







08. Alexis Bledel, 28 (7th) In a perfect world, Bledel and Zooey Deschanel would have a staring contest and I would be in charge of the Visine.






07. Rashida Jones, 33 (5th) A lot of the girls on this list went through a bangs phase back in the brief window of a few years ago when bangs were cool again. What I'm trying to say is, a lot of my favorite girls have big foreheads. So - surprise - I guess I'm a forehead and butt guy.





06. Julianne Hough, 21 (6th) I want to spend some time in Utah and find out what goes on there that makes the women so beautiful. Has anyone else noticed this? I've met five Mormon girls in my lifetime (that I know of) and four of them were, at the very least, really cute. I didn't have anything to say to them. It wasn't that I was too nervous to speak, it was that I had spent five minutes hearing them speak and realized I had no interest in talking to them. Nevertheless, we've much to learn from the Mormons about breeding.



05. Gina Carano, 27 (not ranked) I went through a phase of really being into Pink (or P!nk) a few years back. I mostly liked her music, but also mostly thought she was hot. I never felt comfortable thinking this because, by and large, she wasn't hot. She was tough. A little crass. Seemed independent enough. Maybe I just like the idea of being around a woman I'm not convinced I can make cry if I really want to.





04. Emmanuelle Chriqui, 32 (10th) It really says something about this Israeli-Canadian that on a show designed to cram dozens of hot faceless naked women into frame each week, she's the one to whom "Entourage" chose to give lines.







03. Mandy Moore, 25 (1st) I don't like her music, but I really want to. I don't like her movies, but I've seen every one hoping that I will. I'm not even a huge Ryan Adams fan, but I guess "Beautiful Sorta" was good enough that I can let it go. Mandy Moore is easily the most frustrating beautiful girl on my list.





02. Mila Kunis, 26 (8th) Whenever I watch animated films, I inevitably spend half the movie trying to figure out whose celebrity voice is doing each character. Then once I figure it out I can't help but picture that celebrity in the sound booth with headphones on, passionately emoting while recording the dialogue. I've seen too many behind-the-scenes featurettes not to do this. It's because I can't help doing this that "Family Guy" loses a little edge anytime Meg is involved. Meg is a short, dumpy, possibly lesbian teen who is unloved by her family. The girl providing the voice of Meg is none of those things. I also had this problem with Yeardley Smith as Lisa Simpson. Yeardley's almost 45 years old and the only problem with that is that I'm aware of it.

01. Minka Kelly, 29 (2nd) You know, if you absolutely had to have someone's sloppy seconds you couldn't hope to follow anyone better than Derek Jeter. Maybe Timberlake. Let's not split hairs. Also, can someone named Minka not be beautiful? It feels impossible. What would an ugly Minka even look like?






Top 20 Girls of the Decade

Catherine Zeta-Jones
Cameron Diaz
Mandy Moore
Kate Hudson
Alexis Bledel
Katie Holmes
Britney Spears
Evangeline Lilly
Maggi Gyllenhaal
Lauren Graham

News Travels Crass

Anna Nicole Smith died around 3 p.m. this afternoon. I found out about it sometime around 3:05.

A journalist from the Chicago Sun-Times called the motion picture office I work at wanting to know if he could get a quote from my office's Founder (my boss).

Back in the early 90s, my boss and his famous photographer friend, Victor Skrebneski, photographed Ms. Smith in a fairly famous photo shoot. My office retains the sole publishing rights to the most famous shot from that session. (see below)

Less than 10 minutes after the supermodel's death, the local papers were hounding us for not only quotes, but for high-resolution jpegs (computer pictures) for tomorrow's edition of the paper.

We gave them what they asked for.

But all of this gets much more morbid.

By 3:15 p.m. the phone lines began to jump and shimmy with calls from people trying to get a copy of the (now legendary??) model's poster.

It just so happens that a framed print of the photograph is situated close to my cubicle. Over the past two weeks, I've become well-acquainted with this photograph. Less than 17 minutes after the model's announced death, the framed print was taken off the wall and moved closer to the main lobby, where people can see it better.

In Anna's place, a framed poster of the 33rd London Film Festival now hangs.

By 3:18 p.m. we had doubled our sales of this poster from the last two years.

One of my office directors was so distraught about these limited posters flying off the shelves, she had us raise the price from $35 to $50. She hurried one of the office employees to change the web-site price before "another [customer] sneaks in a steals one for $35!" (it's a little less skeezy when you consider we're a non-profit organization, but not completely "sans skeeze").

By 3:25 p.m. we had sold everything left in the closet and put a hold on selling the posters held in storage....

...Those we'll save until after the Sun-Times article hits newsstands tomorrow. I can only imagine once Chicagoland sees that beautiful print in the paper, we'll be charging a hundred bucks for it.

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ADDENDUM: It is 4:27 p.m. and the 150 posters left on the planet now cost $100. We didn't even wait until tomorrow morning. R.I.P. Anna Nicole Smith.