Here’s something they haven’t covered on Jericho: How to power small appliances with tomato soup.

All right, so in answer to several questions, it’s a 2007 Mustang convertible that I’m shopping for. It would look like the one above, except not red. (Probably either black or Vista Blue Metallic.) I love red. So why not get red? Because my current Mustang convertible, which looks much like the one above, is red. (And oddly enough, given what they say about red muscle cars, I’ve never gotten one speeding ticket in it.) I think that if you’re going to spend the money to buy a new car, you at least want everyone to see that you’ve bought a new car. A new car of the same make and model and color that has a slight change in body style and maybe an additional stripe isn’t likely to make quite the statement — and like it or not, we all know those statements mean something. Especially in LA.

The person I’m most making a statement to is me, so it’s really for me that I’m changing colors. And a few other things. I actually considered changing cars (this will be my third Mustang convertible in a row), but then I looked at other convertibles and drove the new Mustang, and my heart was set.

Problem is, I am set on some features that seem incompatible. Or so they tell me.

The top photo here is the red leather interior for a Mustang convertible. The bottom photo is for a two-tone red-and-black leather interior for a Shelby Mustang convertible. I’m trying to get a non-Shelby Mustang, but still with that two-tone interior, either red and black if I get a black exterior, or dove (a bluish white) and black if I get the blue exterior. Wish me luck with that.

The big change is I’m requesting GPS with Bluetooth. There are two reasons for this. The first is, all my many apparent gifts aside, I am directionally challenged. I know downtown Los Angeles very well. Eighteen years of going to obscure areas in the dead of night will do that. Put me on the West side, or anywhere in the “West Valley” (with place names like “Tarzana,” “North Hills,” and so forth, places I’m not sure I’ve even been to) and I’m lost. Increasingly, I’ve been finding myself in such places or trying to find my way from Santa Monica on the west side to either downtown or Burbank (where both my office and my house are), and desperate to find some mystic route that no one else on our clogged lanes has somehow discovered. I’m tired of looking to find a place to pull over and consulting my Thomas Guide. Plus, I’m looking forward to having Mr. T tell me how to get places.

The other reason is that increasingly I’m on my cellphone while driving. California passed a no-hands law that takes effect July 1, 2008. By “no-hands,” that doesn’t mean they want you to drive with no hands — although I certainly see a lot of that, from people reading magazines behind the wheel to ubiquitous young office workers applying eyeliner on the 405. No, that means your cellphone must be “no hands.” The fine is only $20, but that’s not the point. The point is that with Bluetooth my car will be connected to my smartphone and I won’t have to fiddle with it while driving.

Although I’m buying the car through my car broker Ed, I’ve spent some time (too much time) on Ford’s website and at local dealers looking at models. Ford hasn’t made this easy. For one thing, some of these options seem needlessly exclusionary (get the frimmistat and you can’t have the frammistat; if I don’t want, say, a sport racing stripe, why does the system automatically replace the leather seats with cloth?). For another, as Ed says, there are about 2500 options. After deciding on a couple of packages I would be happy with, I tried to convey these to Ed over the phone but after going through the various permutations of options we finally agreed it would be easier for me to email it. He said he’s going through this with two other clients right now. Ed is one of the smartest guys I know — he’s the only person I’ve met who passed my “Name the original Three Stooges test” — and he said Ford just has too many options and they aren’t making it easy to buy their cars.

(Note to Ford: Perhaps you should simplify your offerings and sell more cars. Take a page from Mr. Jobs, who upon his return scrapped about 16 competing Macintosh Performa systems and created the easy-to-buy iMac.)

So I’ve sent the options to Ed, and he’s got until Monday to find this car for me. After which I’ll be back East for a week, and then he’s got until January 7th. (The sooner the better.)

In the meantime, all this time and effort spent on car shopping and debating decals and stickers that add or subtract $500 here or there has increased my eagerness to be driving this new car, and also my awareness that simultaneously 2.8 billion people on this planet subsist on less than two dollars a day. Somehow or other every day almost everyone I know is living that contradiction.

This priceless exchange reprinted with permission from business consultant Alan Weiss’ newsletter. And what does it say about the Wall Street Journal — a BUSINESS publication — that they can’t handle this simple situation? (And, since he didn’t get his Wall Street Journal, I guess Alan didn’t see Mark Chaet inside.)

Me and the Wall Street Journal

Me: Listen, I didn’t get my paper this morning, that’s twice this week, and I’m getting annoyed.
WSJ: I’m terribly sorry. Would you give me the account number on the paper address label?
Me: How can I?! I don’t have the paper!
WSJ: Did you dispose of it?
Me: No, it was never delivered!
WSJ: Have you looked outside?
Me: Yes, that’s how I know it’s not there!
WSJ: Did you notice the color or license plate of the delivery person’s vehicle?
Me: No! They weren’t here! I wasn’t out there early in the morning looking for them!
WSJ: So they may have been there earlier?
Me: How could they?! There is no paper! Would they have come and not left a paper?
WSJ: I don’t understand that question. Of course they’d leave a paper.
Me: Never mind.
WSJ: Would you like a replacement paper?
Me: Yes, please!
WSJ: If you call prior to 9 am we can have one there by 2:30.
Me: But it’s 10:30 now!
WSJ: Then I’m sorry, we cannot replace your paper. You must call before 9.
Me: What time do you open?
WSJ: Nine.
Me: Then how could I call you?!
WSJ: Do you need our number?
Me: NO!! What can you do for me now?!
WSJ: Sir, please don’t shout. We will deliver tomorrow’s paper and give you credit for today’s.
Me: What if tomorrow’s doesn’t come?
WSJ: Then call us back, but to get a replacement copy you must call before 9 am.
Me: What if I tell you now, well before 9 am tomorrow, that I need a replacement paper tomorrow?
WSJ: Is tomorrow’s paper missing?
Me: Forget about it.

copyright 2006 Alan Weiss

Great interview with David Simon, co-creator of The Wire, the best show on television.

“Squadron Supreme” began in 1969 as a thinly veiled crossover of DC heroes into the Marvel Universe so that Roy Thomas could have the Avengers battle the Justice League. Hyperion is a Marvelized Superman, Nighthawk is Batman, the Whizzer (now called Blur) is the Flash, and so forth.

Several years ago, J. Michael Straczynski, creator of Babylon 5 (which I’ve never seen), relaunched the Squadron Supreme into an alternative Marvel timeline, one more immediately relevant, where the government seeks to control these superhumans and use them to their own ends — like having them invade the equivalent of Iraq on our behalf. This sounded like an interesting premise, and so a couple or years ago I picked up the trade paperbacks for half price at the San Diego Comic Con. After getting hooked, and seeing that Marvel was starting the storyline in a new title, I subscribed.

In the most recent issue, #7, a superhuman serial killer (now there’s an idea!) named Redstone has been released by the government because Hyperion and company aren’t listening to them any more, and as we all know, the government is about control. This battle takes on epic proportions. Here you see Redstone frying Hyperion’s eyeballs out. Soon, the blinded Hyperion is accidentally killing civilians that Redstone keeps throwing in his way. Meanwhile, Hyperion’s lover Zarda (the Wonder Woman stand-in) has taken a multi-megaton nuclear warhead into space and has seemingly died in the explosion. Then, in a classic cliffhanger, the Blur and Nighthawk show up vowing to take down Redstone — next issue.

After reading my subscription copy, though, I noticed an odd blue sheet in the polybag. It said (I’m paraphasing), “Attention Squadron Supreme fans, this is the last issue! In exchange for your remaining issues, we’re replacing this title with Moon Knight. If you don’t want that, call us.”

So I called them. It seemed incredible to me that this would be the last issue. When I told Number One Son that apparently this was the last issue, he said, “Damn! This keeps happening to me!” He recounted his past travails with a TV show called “Reunion” that got canceled before the big secret was revealed (he has his own theories about who the murderer was, or something like that) as well as other shows. I couldn’t remember this having ever happened to me with a comic book. They get canceled, yes — but not in the middle of this sort of cliffhanger.

The guys at my favorite comics shop in the world, House of Secrets, don’t think it’s true, no matter what subscription girl at Marvel says. I checked Marvel online and I see a solicitation for #9 (with a cover), but can’t find #8. Hm. And Marvel has already launched a new miniseries in which Hyperion and Nighthawk battle it out over the genocide in Darfur.

So here’s what I’ve decided: I think the remaining five issues will come to be. I think Marvel subscriptions just wasn’t going to offer them (even though saps like me were paid up). Reason? This series is coming to an end, and “Moon Knight” is ongoing — so switch us over and get us hooked.

Well, it’s not going to work. Not with me. I’m not going to read “Moon Knight.”

Although apparently, I will spend 30 minutes reading this issue, 15 minutes on the phone to New York, 10 minutes discussing this in the comics shop, 30 minutes research on the web, 10 minutes making these scans, and 40 minutes formatting and writing this blog entry.

And they say comics are “escapism.”

This is the back cover of this week’s New Yorker — and that’s my friend of 14 years, actor (and now model!) Mark Chaet.

On Friday I was at the car dealership and before getting out of my car looked around to see if there was anything I needed to take in with me: my wallet, my keys, etc. On the passenger seat was the new New Yorker, which had arrived that day, turned face down. Otherwise I probably never would have seen this back cover. I looked over, and here was my reaction: “That looks like Mark Chaet. That is Mark Chaet. No, I’m seeing things. Looks like him, though.” Then I picked it up and held it closer. “That is Mark Chaet! It’s Mark Chaet!” (Around our house, everything “Mark” is either “Mark Chaet” or “Mark Stephenson” because we have two actor friends of long standing named Mark.)

I called him on my cellphone and said, “Mark Chaet, you’re famous! Even moreso! I’m here at the dealership buying a new car and I just saw you on the back of The New Yorker!”

Here’s the kind of guy Mark is. His reply was, “You’re buying a new car? Cool! What kind?”

This ad campaign (including its accompanying television spot) is cleared to run for up to a year in places like The New Yorker, Wall Street Journal, and other major print media, so we’ll be seeing a lot more of Mark. Our family has grown used to seeing Mark Chaet on TV, in movies, on stage, in real life — but I never expected to be holding his picture in my hands while I’m in bed. And now he’s on my blog. Congratulations for him — but if I roll over in the middle of the night and find him next to me I’ll know it’s gone too far.

The Independent also had this story on a Chinese actress who finally got fed up with the casting couch — and what she did about it.

Chinese actress uses Web to expose the ‘rule’ of sex-for-roles
By Clifford Coonan in Beijing

When the aspiring actress Zhang Yu decided she wanted to blow the whistle on some of China’s top TV and film-makers – those who have demanded sex in return for roles in their soap operas and movies – she chose the internet to make her case.

Zhang says she won all her roles through sleeping with the directors, assistant directors or men in charge of casting. She also made films herself – of the casting couch sessions. Then she rocked the film and TV world by releasing 20 graphic sex videos of her and a host of big names.

From London’s Independent. This one gives a truer picture of his enormous influence on the superhero comics of the times — and on Marvel’s fortunes.

Forthwith follows further evidence of the decline in testosterone among my gender.

Almost 100 years ago, Ernest Shackleton and his crew braved the Antarctic for two years almost completely without supplies once the pack ice closed in crushed their ship.

Today over on msnbc.com, reporter Miguel Llanos writes about his own voyage to the antarctic. He begins by complaining about his lost luggage, and about having to try on different cold-weather clothes. Men, read it here and weep.

“We will never allow anyone to control any part of Iraq,” said the Iraqi prime minister.

And from all reports, that’s exactly the situation.