If I had my d'ruthers . . . complex (pictured: prescient Yukari Nakano during the long at Skate America)

Let me help rescue the blogosphere from idiots like me who so want to mirror something mainstream, whatever something that is (I guess in a McLuhan sense it is an extended type of both Jungian and Aristotelian social unconsciousness being.) Perchance these reflections appear anything other than personal, let me explicitly interject "self". First, background-wise, this is what I am "supposed" to be doing.

Okay? Feel better. ...(?)

So I returned from my Ike displacement, and finally got lights. On the scheduled Saturday, I was out on my annual photo must-do (preempting even Shawn Johnson and Co. several blocks away), so Ma Bell actually called knocking Sunday. Nice dude. He's been here before (and I pride myself that my service is as effectual as all the telecommuters in the current endeavor.) He also suggested a very plausible explanation for how our five buildings could have no electricity while there was light as far as our eyes could see. CenterPoint, responsible for the grid (and I have nothing but the highest compliments for them since they've taken over these past few years) started with the interruptions from the power plants to those wires connected immediately thereto and solved half their problem. Then they went from those to those big wires you see with the 6, 8, 12 rows of lines and solved another fourth of their problems. Then they went on down the line in the grid until they came to the individual wires that run down the streets, then to the individual houses. Makes sense.

But that is not the story here of my druthers. The next weekend after my return from San Antonio, I was back in San Antonio for the WNBA playoffs. That following weekend, however, I was home, and Saturday morning I was up promptly for my cartoons. No cable. I was up Saturday morning for my cartoons, and there was no cable. No prob, I should be much calm by Monday when they'd be open (one did not call that answering service with anything near that attitude.)

"We've stopped servicing that complex." Complex, indeed. Their affordable $10 monthly service gave the major locals, TNT, TBS, FAM and ESPN. Earlier this year, they suddenly dropped WGN, the station I got the service for.

The reason I've avoided full cable or satellite is that I live in a library, and all this must be read. So, with the cable unhooked, nothing (I thought) happened on the TV without an antenna. This is mostly true, but I've rescanned most of my devices for channels, and I can get some of the major local stations. But decision time: outdoor antenna (in an apartment complex where recently if I go out at 5 am looking for the newspaper delivered 10 minutes earlier I am most often totally out of luck) confining myself to the locals, cable, satellite, ATT's provision, etc. But, if I get anything other than the RCA Flat Indoor Amplified Antenna I am going to pick up Tuesday after voting, I d'ruther have the Tennis Channel included (and, of course, that's part of only the most expensive plans.) But, you know, if I really had my druthers of all the women sports, there would be professional indoor volleyball in the United States. And I was thinking that I'll defer a decision on paid service until the first of the year when I'd try catching the college vball games.

But waiting on something to work while working the other night, I thought I'd check to see when the NCAA vball season began. Began, indeed: it's almost over (didn't I just finish writing about last year's three California school final four a month ago?) Note: those rankings are rpi.

Plan B: antenna and catch some live vball action. Adopted. But you're talking about complex: next weekend, the Division III regionals will be in San Antonio (man, were I from Houston I'd have a complex about how much NCAA action SA sees) while SWAC will be at Grambling. Grambling, SWAC, pickup tickets for the turkey day Bayou Classic in New Orleans (Grambling vs Southern University football) (hey, they have cheerleaders and (the event's stars) majorettes), spend the night in New Orleans on the way back this trip (pics of the levees that failed in reconstruction, make turkey day weekend reservations.) Division III in San Antonio.

Complex? Miki Ando's expression during the women's long program last Sunday (I was not only able to see the NBC broadcast but also able to produce a (really snowy) recording.) It wasn't so much that, determined not to fall, she executed jump after jump, then in the last 90 seconds "threw in" some "artistry" (reflected in the technical score that exceeded Yukari Nakano's by 0.03 points but trailed her execution score by almost four and a half points). Miki . . . never smiled: there was no "Miki".

Photo sources (in order): Yahoo! News/REUTERS/Robert Sorbo; Yahoo! News/REUTERS/Robert Sorbo; Yahoo! News/AP Photo/Kevin P. Casey); Yahoo! News/AP Photo/Kevin P. Casey; Yahoo! News/REUTERS/Robert Sorbo; Yahoo! News/AP Photo/Kevin P. Casey