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The Most Best

Roger's cat is pretty damn cute.

Her name is Maggie. And she's cute.

She's not as cuddly as Boo. Or as funny. At least I don't think.

Actually, she's a little pissy. But then, after all, Maggie's a girl.

But she's cute. That's for sure.

Roger says she's the cutest cat. The best and cutest cat. He says it frequently.

I just go along with it.

And I go along with it when Kakki asks if six-month-old Maddie isn't the sweetest and cutest baby. Because Maddie's the first for Kakki. And Maddie is definitely pretty cute, no issue there. But she can't be the cutest. If Maddie were the cutest, I'd have to rescind my 'cutest baby' position as articulated to other people.

I already told Madeline and John that Jesse was the cutest baby.

And, quite frankly, Jesse was the cutest baby.

Jesse, who is now a handful and a half of a really great grown up kid who's got about eight inches on me, was just sooooo cute when he was little. I just wanted to eat Jesse up. I just wanted to put Jesse's little baby body into my mouth and gobble him up.

In an appropriate way, of course.

Yes. Jesse was extraordinarily cute when he was born sixteen years ago.

Now Jesse's more cute. In that almost grown up way. In that "Jeez, whoduthunk you'd get to be so good looking" kind of way.

But even the passage of sixteen years hasn't diminished my memory of how cute he was as a baby.

Jesse was so close to the cutest that he could almost be called the absolute cutest.

But now my baby brother is having a baby.

Well, it's really his wife who's having the baby.

Yes, Jo's having a kid. And I bet it will be pretty damn cute. Because Jo's adorable. And Eric's adorable. And don't two big adorables make a little adorable?

But Joanna won't ask if her little adorable bundle is the cutest. Joanna's not like that.

Joanna will just say in her sexy, throaty, low, all-knowing voice: "Come on...you know this is the cutest baby you've ever seen. You know you do."

Actually, Eric was the cutest baby. But I can't say it anymore. He hates when I refer to him as a baby. Even though he is still a baby. At least to me.

Perhaps we could all just agree that every baby is the cutest baby.

Even the ugly babies.

Not that any baby is ugly...but you know what I mean.

So up comes Allison Janney to accept her Emmy award. And first she wastes a bunch of time trying to get the other nominees to come up on stage with her.

Yeah. I bet that would be really fun for them.

And then Allison Janney gushes about how The West Wing has the best cast and the best crew and the best writers and the best water delivery of any show that anybody has worked on.

She's never had - and apparently never will have in the future - any experience as best as the West Wing.

Okay.

I'm actually not a West Wing person.

A-c-t-u-a-l-l-y, I haven't watched network television in a long time.

Except, of course, for The Apprentice.

And tornado coverage.

Other than that, I've been strictly HBO for a while.

And anything with a "C" in it: CNN, CNBC, Comedy Central.

And the Cat Channel, of course.

Well, I will watch the Cat Channel when it comes to cable. As I'm sure it will.

But I hear the West Wing is great. Rhea and Marky Mark live for the West Wing. And I respect them as purveyors of only the finest tube action.

And Allison Janney's been nominated like twenty times. And she's won like thirty times.

I accept that the West Wing is great.

But is it the best? Is it the best of all time?

If the West Wing is the best of all time, then what about Frasier which has won a billion awards and continued to win last night even after the show ended? And what about Sex and the City whose entire cast cries everytime anybody gets nominated because working on Sex and the City is just such an amazing life experience? And what about MASH? MASH wasn't my favorite, but wasn't it the country's collective favorite?

I think best should either be reserved or qualified.

Either reserved for the moment right before you die, when you can compare all you've known and reach a justifiable conclusion. Or qualified as to the small and definedcategory by which the subject is being characterized.

So Allison Janney can certainly say that the West Wing is the best of everything. She can say it right before she dies. And we'll record in the book of opinions that for her it was the absolute best.

Or Allison Janney can say that the West Wing is the best of television shows about the White House and Presidency in the twenty first century scheduled for Monday nights.

Or whatever night the West Wing is on.

But the best?

No.

No more best.

No more best unless you're dying.

"That Pontiac Grand Am was the best ever. And now, goodbye dear friends and family."

No more best unless your qualifying.

"You are the best sex I've had. Tonight. Out of the sex I've had tonight."

No more best unless you're three years old and complimenting your mommy.

Because when you're three, you don't know that three-year old best is relative and yet to be determined throughout years of therapy and other neurosis.

No more best.

Unless, of course, it truly is "The best, Jerry, the best!"

Cause that best really is the best.
 


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