STATE OF THE CITY |
Disorder in the Court Defendants, please! Don't make us swap Judge Judy for Miss Manners. Lately, there has been a surge in shoddy courtroom deportment. On the stand, soon-to-be convicted 311 Boy Steven Gazlay barked back at a prosecutor: "What kind of a question is that?" In another courtroom, just-convicted murderer Taiwan Allen took a few swings at a prosecutor, sending the attorney to the floor, a gurney and a hospital. Bad form, people, and not the sort of behavior likely to endear you to the legal bodies overseeing you. However, in another Clark County courtroom this week, murderers-on-appeal Sandy Murphy and Rick Tabish were the models of bench etiquette, this time forgoing temptation to snicker or flirt, sitting quietly, patiently—professional defendants clinging to the notion that justice is not so blind after all. |
Sugar-Coated Gingerbready Vegas
If you're looking for some homegrown holiday merriment, check out the gingerbread display at the J.W. Marriott Las Vegas Resort. Teams of culinary students assembled a few cookie renditions of Vegas icons. There's the Stratosphere, the Rio, the Luxor, Little Church of the West, the Hoover Dam (which has a plane made of icing crashed into it) and the most mysterious Vegas icon of all: a sugar-encrusted boat.
String, Sting, Ba-Da-Bing, Whatever—They Love Us.
More national media coverage of the Galardi-County Commission affair showed up this week—in the Old Gray Lady. But what's with the inability to decide whether it's "Operation G-Sting" or "Operation G-String?" Newsweek called it Op G-String last week; the New York Times called Op G-Sting on Monday. Local press leans toward G-Sting, although Channel 3 had big graphics calling it G-String. It's time for consensus: All those in favor of "sting," please call your local G-man. All those in favor of "string," make a cash donation at your local Galardi club. All those who think the scandal must somehow be responsible for the ceaseless spotlight on musician Sting lately, move to the front of the class.
Slang Word of the Week: Gangsta
Means: Bad, as in, good.
Usage: "We had the most gangsta night in my 21 years of existence."
Culprit: Vanderbilt University pre-med student Ellen Africiano on celebrating her 21st birthday here.
Five Reasons You Should Consider Continuing Education Courses at CCSN—Or Not
1. Non-Surgical Facelift. Description: Learn to strengthen sagging muscles, help eliminate crow's feet, lift the upper eyelid and help tighten your neck and chin.
2. Marblescope Kaleidoscope. Description: Learn the difference between front surface mirror for kaleidoscopes and regular mirror. Learn the copper-foil method to put your kaleidoscope together
3. Peripherally Inserted Central Catheters. Description: Learn to choose the correct vascular device, the insertion of the device and the management of line once it is inserted and stabilized using the BD Access System.
4. Power Vocabulary. Description: Discover the 14 master words that are key to understanding more than 14,000 works, find out how to crack open word meanings and learn how to quickly infuse new words into your everyday speech and writing.
5. Sewing Advanced Slipcovers. Description: Learn how to construct a slipcover on a grand scale. You will created a custom muslin or decorator fabric slipcover for your sofa or love seat. Bring your sewing machine and owner's manual.
Speaking of Power Vocabulary (See Above Item), Let's Consider the Word 'Patootie'
From Jane Ann Morrison's December 15 column in the Review-Journal: "A number of Democrats said that Reid doesn't give a rat's patootie about the party's well-being at the state level ..."
Our copy of Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary—the 10th editon—lacks an entry for "patootie," but the ever-helpful American Slang dictionary provides two definitions so at odds with each other that one closes its cover shocked at Ms. Morrison's inexact use of the language. Definition 1: buttocks. Definition 2: sweetheart.
So, which is it, Jane Ann? "Harry Reid doesn't give a rat's ass" or "Harry Reid doesn't give a rat's boyfriend/girlfriend/life partner"? The difference, as you can see, is tremendous, and given the vital subject matter—the Democratic party's well-being at the state level—we think a little more clarity is in order.
Paulie Wanna Sculpture?
You hear it all over Hollywood once an actor has reached the top of his craft:
"But what I really want to do is sculpt!"
And so it was with one of Tinseltown's veteran hyphenates—as in (and we're quoting here) actor-writer-director-producer-singer of opera—Paul Sorvino, the respected character actor of stage, screen and TV, whom we know is a character actor because we always recognize his puss and forget his name. Maybe you know him most readily as the oft-rerun Det. Phil Cerretta on Law & Order, though he left after one season to study opera, paving the way for Jerry Orbach to make a career out of morbid wisecracks.
Sorvino, his creative juices pouring from every pore—forgive the disturbing image—is also a sculptor whose bronze works of all sizes will be displayed through January 31 as part of the Art de Vignettes at the Fashion Show Mall, with his smaller pieces on view throughout 2004. A private reception December 18 kicks it off.
And in the spirit of actors who simply can't confine themselves to acting, we'll boldly predict that the quality of Sorvino's sculpture will far surpass anything that William Shatner has ever sung.