It's lonely at Lexus

When my Lexus service writer asked me this morning what I was bringing my ES350 in for, I said, "It's losing a $1000 a week. Anything you can do about that?" He was not amused.

But, after looking around, it was clear I'm not the only one unhappy the value of my car is going down like a bobsled to hell.

I like going to the Lexus dealership in Newport Beach. First of all, just being a Jew in Orange County always makes me feel like I've gotten away with something big. The dealership is like an extremely upscale mall - South Coast Plaza with 30-weight. While I was sitting on one of the many plush leather chairs in the customer waiting lounge, next to the Lexus café, in front of the video arcade and just around the corner from the Lexus clothing store, listening to the Georgetown basketball game on one of the three 62 inch HD televisions that surrounded me, I noticed something unusual.

I was alone.

Not just in the waiting area, but in the dealership. Not one other customer waiting for their car, not one person looking at new cars on the showroom floor. Obviously news of the recall being blasted across the front page and leading the news day after day is taking it's toll.

I took a bite of my all-butter croissant and a sip of my decaf latte I'd bought at the Lexus café and pondered this for a while. And looking out at the lot, with all those shiny, lonely new Lexus cars, here's where I came out.

It's kharma at work. It's the recall for Toyota/Lexus, and the economy for the rest of the dealers.

For years, these smarmy, slick, slimy, unctuous jerks have been sucking all the joy out of what should be one of the happiest and exciting purchases you ever make. Their service departments have been staffed by people who, if there were any real justice in the world, would be serving five to ten for armed robbery. When I used to have my Audi, I would bitch and moan to a friend how much it cost every time I took the car to the dealer for service. He looked at me, shook his head, and said, "How old do you have to be before you realize the dealer is always gonna screw you." He was right.

So this emptiness at Lexus and all the others? The pundits can call it what they want, but I think we all know what it really is.

Payback.

*photo courtesy GettyOne

The hottest cellphone? All of 'em

Look at the bright side - the good news is now you can cook popcorn and warm coffee with your cellphone. And you don't even need an app to do it.

For years, whenever I talked on my cellphone for any length of time, I'd swear I could feel my brains cooking. People I mentioned this to told me I was just imagining it. But the fact that my head really hurt, the phone battery was roughly the temperature of the sun, and the preliminary results of the multinational Interphone study sponsored by the International Agency for Research on Cancer in Lyon, France make me think I wasn't.

Scientists from thirteen countries participated in the study, although none from the United States. Go figure. The Interphone researchers reported that after a decade of cellphone use, the chance of getting a brain tumor on the side of the head where you use the phone goes up as much as 40% for adults.

Predictably, cell phone companies have invested millions to counter such research. Their findings conclude it's perfectly safe to hold a low-power microwave oven without walls against the side of your head.

The main thing you can do about it is also the most obvious: don't use your cell phone unless you have to. Only accept calls you need to, and keep them short. And if you've replaced your land line with a cell phone, you might want to rethink that decision (providing you have enough brain cells left to rethink it).

Fortunately my cell provider is AT&T. With their free call-dropping, my calls are short whether I want them to be or not.

It's an honor just to be nominated

How does this show get worse every year?

Don't get me wrong - I like interpretive dance to motion picture scores as much as the next guy. But really, isn't there a better way to present those nominees?

There were a few memorable moments.

The testimonies to the best actor and actress nominees from their colleagues were genuinely touching.

And Steve I - don't - think - he's- had - any - face - work - why - would - you - say - that Martin and Alec the- prozac- should -be - kicking - in - any - minute - now Baldwin had the occasional funny and very funny moments.

I suppose the redeeming part of the evening was Avatar not sweeping, and The Hurt Locker and Kathryn Bigelow getting the recognition they deserve.

I know it's easy to sit here in the cheap seats and take shots at people who are definitely more talented and accomplished than I am. But that's part of the fun of watching.

Maybe one day, with a lot of hard work and a little luck, I'll get nominated for an Oscar and be one of those people up there. I might even win.

If I do, I'll do an interpretive dance of my acceptance speech.

I hear they like that.

Another iPhone? iThink iMight be getting tired of this

I was on hold for the iPhone for a long time. The first generation just didn't have the features I needed. The Samsung I had at the time had a five megapixel camera, shot video, and - most importantly as I now know - was on the Verizon network. But I'm a Mac-based individual, so I decided to wait another year for the second generation. Because I knew when it got here, it'd have all the features I was hoping for.

Which, Apple being Apple, it didn't.

So I waited yet another year, and then finally, the third generation iPhone 3Gs arrived. With a slightly better but still not great camera (that shot video but not really great video). More but not a lot more memory. And like the other two generations before it, thanks to AT&T, free call-dropping.

In spite of all that, I made the decision I'd put in enough time waiting and took the plunge. And even with its shortcomings, I love it.

For starters, it's cured my case of phone envy. Because it's an iPhone and everything that implies. But now I'm starting to hear rumblings and rumors, and mock ups like this one are starting to pop up showing what people think the fourth generation might offer when it comes out this June or July. Things like an even better camera. Even bigger screen. Even more memory. Even better sound.

And damn it, it's all making me feel like I should've waited longer.

At least when Apple does this with the MacBook Pro I don't have to re-up for about three years. But every year for the iPhone? The sad thing is I know I'll be in line with everyone else at the Apple Store the first weekend it goes on sale.

I also know if they keep pulling this stunt every year, it'll definitely make me think different about Apple.

Just not the way they want me to.

JFK airport is kid friendly

It must be great to have a dad who's an air traffic controller. Especially if he works the tower at JFK in New York. And double extra great if he lets you talk to the pilots on the air traffic control frequency.

That's just what one controller did last month when he brought his two young children to work with him. In fact, one of his colleagues thought it was such a great idea, he brought his daughter in the next day and she got to talk to two pilots in the air.

And really, what could go wrong?

Just think of the memories-in-the-making those kids were having as they guided airliners with hundreds of passengers in and out of one of the busiest airports in the world. It's what every future air traffic controller needs - hands on experience. Even if the hands are sticky with candy and soda.

Of course, the beauty of an idea this good is that it has legs. How about bring your kids to work day at the fire department. Ambulance dispatchers. Blood donation center workers. Mayor for a day. What harm could they really do?

Obviously they couldn't exercise any worse judgement than their parents.

Pink's goes south

There's nothing like a Pink's chili dog at 8:30 in the morning. I should know. That's where my Fairfax High friends and I went when we'd ditch P.E. at second period (sorry Mr. Stone).

The thing that made it great - besides the radioactive chili and great tasting, specially made Hoffy hot dogs since 1939 - was that Pink's was a one of a kind experience. Well, sadly, they're not one of a kind anymore. Another Pink's is opening in Orange County. At Knott's Berry Farm. And while I'm sure the chili dog loving residents of the OC will be happy they don't have to drive to the big, bad city to experience Pink's, the reality is it won't be the same.

Part of the Pink's experience is waiting in line for at least forty minutes with the colorful cross section of L.A. you find there almost any time of day or night. Movie stars, millionaires, down-and-outers, teens, seniors, people in drag, people who are a drag. All excitedly waiting for the same culinary experience. Pink's levels the playing field. Yes we can all get along. Over a chili dog.

Want to know how to insult a great chili dog? Sell it between cotton candy and jars of grape jelly. It's just wrong.

When The Original Tommy's opened stands everywhere, the experience wasn't anything near the same as waiting in a line of 500 people at the downtown stand at eleven at night after a concert at the Sports Arena or Staples Center.

But times are tough, and I suppose it's an understandable move.

Still, some places manage to hang on to their uniqueness. The Apple Pan has had many, many offers over the years to expand, franchise and relocate. None of which they've done. Their 27 seat counter is full most of the time, and the same employees that served me those awesome Hickory burgers when I was a kid are still serving them. There's something extremely comforting about that.

Philippe's downtown is another singular L.A. dining landmark. Screw French dip for the masses. You want it, you go downtown.

So while it makes me sad there won't be just one Pink's anymore, I suppose in the end broadening the fan base is a good thing.

Almost as good as thinking about those diners at Knott's getting tossed around on Montezooma's Revenge after their first chili dog.

Off the island for a night

Hi, my name is Jeff and I'm a LOST addict.

All together: Hi Jeff.

Even though I don't wear t-shirts with the numbers (although I bought them for my kids), I don't own a blue '68 VW bus (although I've looked for one on Edmunds), I don't have Dharma logo decals on my car, I didn't name my daughter Kate (or Juliet, or Claire, or Penny) and I don't use "Namaste" as a greeting, the addiction runs deep. I occasionally catch myself saying "Dead is dead." and "Live together or die alone."

I'm not about to kid myself I can quit anytime. That's just crazy talk.

Last night was LOST night at the annual Paley Festival, a two-week celebration of the top television shows of the moment put on every year by The Paley Center (formerly The Museum Of Broadcasting, formerly The Museum of Television & Radio). For the price of the ticket, the public can see panels made up of the actors, producers, writers and directors of the shows. And if you're addicted to a particular show - say for example one about a group of airline passengers who crash on a mysterious island - it's an outstanding evening of stories, process and behind the scenes intrigue.

The LOST panel was made up of several executive producers/ writers, and three of the main stars: Locke (Terry O'Quinn), Ben (Michael Emerson) and Richard (Nestor Carbonell). Each was intelligent, funny, entertaining and just as much in the dark as I am about what's going to happen to their characters from week to week.

Since addiction loves company, I was there with my son (sadly addictive behavior is often passed down to the children), and my good friends Mike and Janice, two fellow LOST addicts.

All together: Hi Mike, Hi Janice, Hi Jeff's son.

The evening was spectacular. Like the show, the panel was just as mysterious when it came to answering some of the questions, and we were all left wanting more.

But here's the sad truth about LOST addiction. Even more is never enough.