We watched our DVRd episode of V last night. Aside from the torture porn (hate it), it was the All Morris Chestnut show for me. Damn, but that man is handsome. And he has that voice. I'd like to see him spending even MORE time with Elizabeth Mitchell's character as the weeks go on. *is shallow*
I was a little late to L&O: SVU, unfortunately. Missing any lines spoken by Shohreh Aghdashloo is a travesty. HalfshellHusband used to joke that in 24, her character controlled her son entirely through the incestuous glory with which she purred his name: Bah-rrrooozh... The kid never had a chance.
Of the random: I discovered over my visit to my parents that basketball star Maurice Lucas died last year at only 58. Lucas was one of the championship Portland Trailblazers, and was the embodiment of a "power forward." He was formidable. Lucas later played for another team, but returned to Portland for his final season and eventually became one of the team's assistant coaches. Cancer took him far too soon. :(
This brought back memories of reading and re-reading the Sports Illustrated article on that championship team, back in the day (yeah, I was a major fan). Few people remember that the injury-prone Bill Walton was spelled throughout that season by the backup-center, Lloyd Neal. I still remember this interview snippet in SI:
Neal: You have to play so that you do not apprehend the flow.
SI Writer: What?
I'm still bugged by this. The Trailblazers' trademark was their outstanding ability to work the fastbreak, so Neal's comment makes perfect sense to me. It's an abstract description of how to work with, not against, the fastbreak. Then and now, I find myself thinking that had Neal been white, the reported probably would not have reacted to his statement that way. Neal meant what he said, and it wasn't random jock-blather. *is still peeved*
On a happier note, my favorite player on that team was Dave Twardzik, who proved repeatedly that decent talent plus relentless effort can accomplish amazing things. And I will always have a soft spot for Lionel Hollins, who not only shares my birthday but whose speaking voice always sounded exactly like my grandfather. Good times. :)
Bicycling update: GodDAMNit! Again?!? Though on the amusement side, I set off a single-steer stampede. Twice-- same animal. Oh, the plight of a dim, fuzzy bovine is a hard one.