History Will Judge Us by Our Chorus Lines

I had some pistachio gelato earlier this week that had so much dairy fat, it actually crossed into butter territory. It wasn't like eating a stick o' Land o' Lakes, but it was more like that than a bowl of ice cream.

Anyway, it's at times like this that I think it's important to remember that the best rules are there to help us make good decisions.

I just saw "Enchanted," and I think it's time we instituted a law requiring musicals to feature equal opportunity bands of merry dancers. Maybe it's because just last night I saw "Ferris Bueller," with its now archaic "black people getting down" sequence. You're in downtown Chicago, people of all races and creeds are attending this parade, listening to Ferris/Lennon belt out "Shake It (Now Baby)", but for some reason, the entire crowd of synchronized dancers is made up of black people. Who are dressed like extras from "Good Times," even though all the white people are in suits.

Point being, I couldn't help noticing that in "Enchanted"'s Central Park sequence, the adorable, "my gracious! I'm not a bad dancer for an octogenarian!" elderly people were all white, and boogie-ers were all dark-skinned. Also, I call a moratorium on angry, sassy black women in various civil service positions, i.e. bus drivers and postal workers. I remain, as ever, fine with angry, sassy black female Supreme Court Justices and brain surgeons. Although I fail to see why, in all the world, only Shonda Rhimes ever steps up to this particular plate. (I'd like to give partial credit to Aaron Sorkin for casting Edward James Olmos as the Supreme Court nominee pulled over for drunk driving in that one episode of "West Wing," but then he kinda slid hopelessly into "Aren't white guys, like, the best?" with "Studio 60" and "Farnsworth's Whatchamagig.")

And now, if you'll excuse me, I need to lie on the couch and nurse my cold.