o.j., can you see?

in may 1994, i was sitting in a sportsbar at nellis air force base near las vegas, watching a basketball game with the sound turned off when the screen was taken over by images of a helicopter following a white bronco. this went on for an inordinately long time and finally i split and headed back to my room, where i turned on the tv sound and realized it was o.j. simpson being pursued by the l.a.p.d. "they're hoping to see this jackass kill himself on tv," i said to myself. "weird."

for the duration of his trial, i reflexively punched buttons in the car to avoid hearing news about his trial. i told the secretary at work, who listened to the shit constantly, that every hour she did that decreased her i.q. by one point.

now homeboy (whom farren refers to as "the ultimate distraction...forget the war, forget the planet, forget the election, forget health care") is back and i'm even gladder than i was before that i no longer have a car radio or a tv.