What are two of my obsessions?

Halloween, and the idea of not getting my mail.

So here’s something that would keep me awake.

The email I just got:

Dear Lee:

It is with great regret I announce today that I am withdrawing from the race for governor of California. With a young family and responsibilities at city hall, I have found it impossible to commit the time required to complete this effort the way it needs to — and should be — done.

This is not an easy decision. But it is one made with the best intentions for my wife, my daughter, the residents of the city and county of San Francisco, and California Democrats.

When I embarked on this campaign in April, my goal was to engage thousands and thousands of Californians dedicated to reforming our broken system and bringing change to Sacramento.

I would like to thank those supporters, volunteers, and donors who have worked so hard on my behalf. I have been humbled by their support and am indebted to their efforts. They represent the spirit of change and determination essential to putting California back on the right track.

I will continue to fight for change and the causes and issues for which I care deeply — universal health care, a cleaner environment and a green economy for our families, better education for our children, and, of course, equal rights under the law for all citizens.
Sincerely,

Gavin Newsom

And here’s the response I sent:

Unbelievable.

Are you kidding me?

Blaming your family NOW because NOW you’ve decided it’s going to require more TIME?

Fff.

More likely you read the polls.

You could have won this.

I’ll never support you again.

And then I emailed it to a bunch of friends. Here was one’s immediate response:  “I think there is a new scandal – all those months on the road in California – all those adoring young female fans….”

So I just checked the LA Times site and was surprised to see a Burbank story on its home page. Unfortunately, it was this story that was linked to:  the suicide of a local police officer who was under investigation.

The photo shown is of the corner of  our old house. Meaning this incident occurred two doors from where we lived for six years. The officer who is quoted in the story is a friend.

A sad story for a city that is still in many ways a very small town.

Yes, I still feel like a fool every morning when my paid-for LA Times arrives carrying news and features first presented five days previous for free online.

Other people have been quicker to act, as this chart of declining circulation shows:

As you can see, in the 20 years that I’ve been reading it, the LA Times has lost fully half its readership. (Through no fault of my own:  Again, I’m the dummy still paying for it.)

There are two kinds of newspapers that continue to prosper and, yes, even grow:  community newspapers and ethnically specific (often foreign-language) papers. And, as witnessed above, there’s the Wall Street Journal, which provides its own example. What characteristic do they all share? They all serve a specific function or niche. Want to know what’s going on in, say, Burbank? Then you might check out The Burbank Times, which recently doubled its page count (and therefore its local coverage) and its distribution. What’s major newspaper in Los Angeles is growing? La Opinion, which serves readers in Spanish.

And then there’s the Times, which mystifyingly for the entire 21 years at least that I have been here has somehow not pursued being the newspaper of record for the entertainment industry. The Times, which first turned its various metro sections into the California section, and then eliminated that section, reducing all “local” coverage into an area easily stored in a matchbox. You can find out some of what’s going on in downtown LA’s City Hall (which is almost entirely irrelevant to many of us) and some of what’s going on in Sacramento, but little about those environs between — including the San Fernando Valley, where I live, population 1.7 million, which is more people than live in 12 different states (Idaho, Maine, New Hampshire, Hawaii, Rhode Island, Montana, Delaware, South Dakota, Alaska, North Dakota, and Vermont), each with at least one daily newspaper entirely to itself.

In its zeal to serve a little of everything to everyone, the Times is serving almost nothing to almost no one.

Maybe it’s not a great song. (Or even a good one.) But the video’s got perhaps the best unrecognized camp line in movie-promotion music video history: “Flash, I love you — but we’ve only got 14 hours to save the Earth!” It’s got that, plus blow-dried hair and reflective clothing. 1980, where did you go?

The nuts my daughter will crack but not eat.

The cookies she baked with my sister that I said look like chipmunk scat.

The spatula that fell onto the heating element in the dish washer.

The dog who needs a walk every night and gets it.

The cigar from that walk.

The glass of orange juice from our tree that I drank while posting this.

The current issue of Details carries a profile of the aging and unapologetic Pee-wee Herman. (Am I still pissed? You bet.)

(By the way, no, I don’t subscribe to Details. But I now seem to be getting it free in the mail. Hey, if they’re going to offer all the content for free on the web, why not print it and mail it for free, too? Which makes me wonder if the Pennysaver giveaways didn’t have the right idea all along.)

Back to Pee-wee:  When I finally finally was able to get through to Ticketmaster about the ticket “exchange,” I found that my order had been “canceled,” but now I had the delicious opportunity to order worse seats for far more money. The humidity in Burbank that day came from all the steam pouring out of my ears. And then, to add insult to injury, as though the bait and switch weren’t bad enough, the refund didn’t come until two weeks after promised, meaning they banked my money the entire time and took a float on it.

Yes, Pee-wee and his management team and everyone else involved will be getting a letter from the state department of consumer affairs as soon as I file a case.

I’m going back to mourning Soupy Sales now.

Last night for about the 10th year in a row, my friend and I went to Knott’s Scary Farm. Want to know what was truly scary? How few people were there. In past years, the event has been sold out and you ran the risk of being turned away if you didn’t buy in advance or scalping tickets. This year? The Vampire Lestat would have starved to death looking for warm bodies. The effects of the recession (and increased competition from Universal Studios’ offering) was spooky.

Here I am outside Uncle Bobo’s Big Top of the Bizarre.

And here’s one of Uncle Bobo’s evil clowns making sure he’s on the schedule. I don’t blame him. All across the land, 1 out of 8 evil clowns is out of work.

If you’ve ever tried to find a good business application for the iPhone using the App Store, you’re no doubted tempted to say, “There’s some crApp for that.” Whoever said that every library should post a sign warning users about all the bad advice that could be found within would have a field day with the range of apps for the iPhone.

But now we have this: The no-junk business iPhone apps finder.

Some people in Maine are campaigning against equal rights for gays and lesbians.

Let’s hear what an 86-year-old World War II vet and lifelong Republican who fought on Omaha Beach has to say about equal rights.