I can't say it didn't please me

So we're sitting around last spring, waiting for the world to unfreeze, when Pete's brother Jake calls up and asks us, "So, what are you doing in October?"
At that moment, our social calendars are not, as they say, fixed. Still, you have this moment when you thing about all the things that youcould be doing in October: climbing all of the fourteeners in Colorado, conducting the philharmonic, apprenticing as an international jewel thief. From March to October, the possibilities seem almost infinite. And then you get ahold of yourself, think honestly about your thoughts and aspirations, and realize that what you will really be doing in October is watching old episodes of "Dr. Who" in your jammies and torturing the cat. Rather than be completely honest, you just say, "I dunno."
Which is a roundabout way of saying that Jake bought us these tickets to see David Sedaris, and last night we got to use them.
We had a lovely time. David Sedaris is as scatological as ever. He's also quit smoking, which is amusing to think about.
Which is a very long way to say: Thanks, Jake!
You can't tell, because I didn't use the flash, but here is a picture of Sedaris peeking elfinly over the podium.

Where's Andy Warhol When We Need Him?

Like this shopper, whose picture recently appeared in the Pueblo Chieftain, we were recently assaulted by a wall of pink Breast Cancer Awareness Campbell's Soup cans at our local grocery store. Each of these cans will nab the Susan G. Komen fund a big 3.5 cents. Coming as it does in the wake of Al Gore's Nobel win, this campaign seems somehow fitting. Here we have a comestible nonfood being sold to raise a nonsum of money for a nonsolution to the problem of breast cancer. It all fits. And when you think about it, what could be better than Campbell's Chicken and Noodle Soup for this? After all, those dessicated little squares of meat are probably cut from the breasts of chickens, right? Chickens with their beaks cut off, pumped full of hormones and antibiotics, fed their own feces for life. What better symbol for our food system's carcinogenic squalor?

Now if you were thinking that canned soup and M&M's are the Susan G. Komen Fund's worst excesses, that's because you haven't seen Jingle Jugs (h/t to Jeanne Sather for this last find). These life-size boobs raise awareness about breast cancer by bouncing around while playing either a canned prerecorded message or the sound sequence of your choice. Fifty bucks gets you one pair, and you can send "a rack" to some lucky soldier in "Eye-rack" for a mere $32.99. Breast cancer awareness AND support for the troops at the same time! Who woulda thunk it? The thing I don't get is this: if the goal is to raise awareness of breast cancer, why have two "jugs"? Why have them looking so intact?
UPDATE: I should add that the AP article that appeared in the Chieftain and elsewhere actually covers the controversy surrounding the marketing of breast cancer "awareness," and devotes more space to the critics of the Susan G. Komenites than you would expect.