Yes, it’s Friday night. Yes, I have a toddler. So yes, I am frequently at home on Friday night. And yes, it’s been a long week and I’m tired, and yes, anything I would want to blog about takes too much link-huntin’ and is too depressing.

So I grabbed my current Beer of Choice (Skinny Dip, by New Belgium Brewing, Fort Collins, CO) and turned on the TV. First thing I see: Tom Hanks, eyeballing the reps from Animal Control and saying, “You going in there with just these things?” Animal Control Gal eyes him back, brandishes her dog-noose-on-a-pole: “We do this for a living. Step aside, please.”

Mwahahah. Tom Hanks was/is one of the finest actors of his generation. He does Everyman to perfection and adds a wicked list of character skills as well. I say was/is only because I’ve taken a pass on a big bunch of his more recent movies, including The DaVinci Batch of Christians-Are-Evil Truthiness Code, through a combination of child-rearing and “these movies don’t look so good.” Maybe someday I’ll catch up and find out if the first impression was misleading. Also, in Turner and Hooch, Mare Winningham was awesome.

Hanks to incessantly barking dog: “What am I supposed to do, make you a margarita? SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”

Update: Since I had a child, I’ve watched TV with captions. At first this was because I watched TV muted so the drone would not get into his innocent little ears at an early age (or while he was nursing to sleep and I wanted quiet entertainment). After a while it just became habitual and occasionally is highly useful. While Turner’s screaming at Hooch, the neighbor says, “Give him a valium, Turner. Take one yourself.” Never was able to catch that line before.

Update: After a brief foray into the funny but unaddictive That ’70s Show (kudos to them for putting the apostrophe in the correct place), I momentarily lose interest in the TiVo and get caught by the shinies at IMDb. Specifically, after being taken to task by William H. Macy about her bad, bad work ethic, Lindsay Lohan is working on a movie with Macy’s wife, Felicity Huffman. Now I am conflicted. I Heart Huffman; she is for me part of the Sports Night Legacy. But can I see a movie starring Hanoi Jane? No, probably not.

Update: While I was slogging through all that IMDb linkage, Billy Dee Williams popped up on That ’70s Show as a pastor who references Han Solo from the pulpit. On any show but this one that would probably be too cute.

Update: Who says TV is escape from reality? A few clicks of the magic TiVo wand brought up Frasier (no more IMDb linkage; look them up yourself, it’s not exactly an obscure site), where Niles and Daphne, having finally reached blissful coupledom after how many? tortured years of TV-off-limits-dom, are applying for the exclusive private “Pre-Kindergarten and Daycare” they want for their potential child(ren). The Little Bean is coming of a preschoolish age right now and definitely needing more of a play companion than BlogMom. It is HELLA DIFFICULT to find the right school, y’all. Too much chaos. Too much structure. Too much Bossy Teacher. Not enough Bossy Teacher. Teacher who thinks she knows more than I do about what’s good for my kid. Teacher who has no control over her classroom. It is a huge Pain. In. the. Ass, and it’s only preschool. You might think, “Yeah, it’s only preschool, what can the big deal possibly be?” Well, as Niles just said, “The top two percent in coloring and putting away can pretty much write their own ticket.”

Update: While writing the above, I reached for my beer and knocked it all over the recliner and the floor. Yes, it’s Full Disclosure Night here at Chez Anwyn, and after spending all day trying to teach The Little Bean that when he’s wearing the Manly Striped Underpants, pee where you feel like it is not a good choice, I then am the one to spill beer all over the place. You can’t make this stuff up. Well, I couldn’t. Goldstein could, but funnier. The armadillo would spill the beer while contemplating where the little one should be sent for preschool, not me. And for the record, Goldstein’s right about children’s shows–it is hard to find one not chock full of PC references and brainwashing. Even Little Einsteins, a favorite around here for a brief time–classical music! famous art! my kid knows how to crescendo and diminuendo before he’s three! what’s not to love? How about: references to the U.N. and a fighter jet as a recurring villain? I’m fine with The Bean not loving that show any more.

Update: Jimmy Stewart is the cutest thing ever.