for every season turn, turn, turn

hi! it's fall now! has it really been a week since my last post? wow! i suck! here's five new things:

1. sonny rollins is undefeatable. superimpossible. beyond.
   
2. i was at my friendly corner bodega tonight and the guy was watching tv. here's the conversation we had:
   
   "holy shit! that's john laroquette! from night court! his hair is all white! when did he get so ooooold?"
   "him? this? this is boston legal! great show!"
   "oh my god! candace bergen too! and william shatner! fuck! everyone looks bloated and 90!"
   "you don't have tv?"
   "not a tv that gets reception. long story. short answer: no."
   "yes, i understand. i only get basic cable for al jazeera. 10 minutes of al jazeera every morning and every night. i need it. tv is crap but i need al jazeera. and boston legal."
   
3. here's the conversation my daughter and i had at the mail boxes etc. store yesterday. i went in there to send a fax for work. as i was writing the note, ever-present coffee cup in my other hand, she engaged me thusly:
   
   "what's doing, daddy?"
   "i'm writing a note. i need to send a fax. then we can go to the playground together!"
   "what's that man doing?"
   "him? he's going to send the fax for me, sweetie."
   "HE HAS A PENIS???!"
   "shhh. yes, i believe so."
   it gets better. the man in question set up the fax machine, dialed the number and brought his own very large coffee cup over to us. he smiled at my daughter.
   "hi," he said. "my coffee is bigger than your daddy's."
   
   oh, hell no. i thought. IT'S ON, MOTHERFUCKER!
   
   "coffee bigger?" she asked me pointing at creepy-strangerman's 32 ounce cup.
   "yes, sweetie. his coffee is bigger than daddy's. but that's because he's SO MUCH OLDER. when daddy gets VERY OLD LIKE HIM, his cup will get bigger too. but at least DADDY'S COFFEE WILL STILL BE STRONG."
   
4. here is something i'd like your input on: mrs nice guy and i had taken the tot to the tot lot the other day. we were all minding our own business, playing on the monkey bars. then my kid saunters over to a neighboring family. as it happens, everyone in the neighboring family is MORBIDLY OBESE and the mother is feeding her own 90-pound three year old dorritos by the bagful. not my problem, i figure. until, that is, she offers my kid -- MY HEALTHY DAUGHTER -- a fistful of solid lardchips WITHOUT ASKING US. my kid, being a kid, took the chips and wolfed them down. i was pissed.
   
   "Mama Cass over there just fed our kid a bunch of chips without asking us if it was ok! it's not ok!"
   "relax. it's a chip. she'll live."
   "but Shamu-mom didn't ask us if it was ok!! i would never give a toddler food without asking her parents permission first! fuck! i am having a stroke!"
   "you know what, mr nice guy?" asked my wife, because now she calls me mr nice guy, "you're what's wrong with parents today. just chill out."
   "BUT IT'S THE PRINCIPLE! FUCK! ACK! COWLADY DIDN'T ASK FIRST! FATCHIPS! DAUGHTER! PIGFAMILY! CONTAGIOUS CARDIO-CHUB-ITIS!"
   
5. finally, this: mrs nice guy worked late tonight, so i put the kid to bed. i read her 29 books, sang her dutch lullabies and left her 3 elmos to cuddle with. "night-night, daddy," she said as i left the room. officially off-duty, i changed clothes and poured myself a drink. then i passed by her room and put my ear to the door. here is what i heard her sing, by herself, in the dark:
   
   "twinkle baa-baa, little star. how i wonder what you are. you are my sunshine, my only sunshine. you make me happy, when skies are great."
   
   i stood there and, in all seriousness, i was stroking the door. i was thiiiis close to tears. because she is her own person now. here she is, doing her own thing, on her own time, in her own room. my heart almost burst from the ridiculous pride, the irresistible cuteness, the plain sadness of it all. when did she get so big? how can i possibly always protect her? why must she hurt, feel alone, grow old and die?
   
   most importantly, what channel is boston legal on?