NEVER FRENCH FRY YOUR SMOKING DOUGHNUT IN VIRTUAL AMERICA

Careful, I'm in a mood today.

In a recent concert, comedian Lewis Black (doing what Lewis Black does best) painfully pointed out the frustration any joke teller feels these days, when the revolving door of topical comic fodder spins so fast that it's impossible to keep pace:

"I barely have a Ports of Dubai joke ... and we're on to Immigration!"

That's where we find ourselves this morning, dear Readers.

There I was, gearing up for a treatise on how we've politicized the Geneva Convention into a twisted game of hide n' shriek (I even had a working title: "A Bush In The Hand Is Worth Two On The Waterboard") when I find this headline waiting for me:

"BUSH TO REFEREE AT MUSHARRAF, KARZAI MEETING."

That's the third computer keyboard Mr. Bush owes me, after he's again responsible for me violently sucking my beloved Maxwell House into my nose and laugh-snorting it out between the keys. By the end of this column, I'll be reduced to phoning this in.

The idea of George Bush refereeing anything other than the charring ratios of steaks versus hot dogs, is enough to cause a splattering java spit-take, at least from your host.

The subsequent headlines are not helping:

"CAN NICOLE RICHIE AND PARIS HILTON BE FRIENDS?"

My level of interest and concern on whether or not these two kittycats will reconcile must take a back seat to my wondering how long my toenails will grow today. If you care one lick about either of those considerations, I can't help you.

Or:

"NINTENDO VIDEO GAME CONSOLE MAKES TOYS 'R' US HOLIDAY HOT LIST"

Sigh. Still flirting with the end of summer, and we're off into sneak peeks of Christmas gifts? I hate to even mention this new offering from Nintendo Co. Ltd., called "Wii." Rising above the agony, if not my increasingly sticky fingers and duty to you, I'm obliged to report its particulars.

It seems that "Wii" is priced at two hundred and fifty dollars (how much do you love YOUR 3-year old?) and features a "motion-sensing controller that operates like a television remote control and lets players simulate swinging a bat or tennis racquet."

Criminy cripes, have we lost our minds? I submit that there are better and cheaper ways to provide these activities for your children. (Dare I suggest it?)

How about if we substitute flesh & bone moms and dads for "motion-sensing controllers" (which, after all, are their primary parental roles). This would free them from operating like television remote controls, and instead allow them to perform like (yes, I dare) REAL moms & dads.

PLAY baseball & tennis with your children. You know -- with REAL bats, balls, gloves & racquets. This may come as a shock, but there are ways to have a catch with dad or a volley with mom without a joystick.

Sure, I've no doubt that Nintendo has perfected the techno-popology which can simulate a son hitting a "Baltimore Chop" to his father in sandlot baseball, or will allow daughter to "double-bagel" her mother on the tennis court, but unless you're intent on raising cyborg Cy Youngs and bionic Billy Jean Kings, get thee out in the sand & clay and mix it up with your kids.

Lastly, I find this sticky headline heralded this morning:

"DOUGHNUTS AND FRENCH FRIES IN DANGER? NEW YORK CITY MAY BAN TRANS FATS"

Yes, dear dedicated reader, in the time it takes a keyboard to caramelize and the news of the day to refresh, the George Bush umpiricism is already bumped out of the No. 1 spot by toroidal terror.

Arrrgh! Wasn't it enough, three years ago, when The Big Apple denied us a good public smoke after our morning coffee and doughnut? Now, no doughnut?? Pay attention, Nintendo. By this time next year, we'll need a video console for Maxwell House as well, and, I'll be coming to you via a virtual pad and pencil.

What? We already have those?

Pardon me, while I light up my Krispy Kreme and dunk into the keyboard.

Copyright 2006 B. Elwin Sherman. All rights reserved.