12/29/03’s illustrious band:

Ninnyhammer

Brought to you by A Word A Day (www.wordsmith.org).

No, a ninnyhammer is not a weapon used to bludgeon stupid people. We have Jerry Springer and his folding chairs for that. Nor is it the name of a role-playing game like Warhammer. A ninnyhammer is the dipstick him- or herself. AWAD isn’t sure where the word originated; perhaps it’s a shortening of the word “innocent” + “hammer,” short for “hammerhead.”

I’m back from a glorious Christmas break in sunny Phoenix and feeling like a ninnyhammer myself. Too much sun -- that bright, warm thing in the sky that you northerners saw a lot less of than I did -- will do that to a person. What, me rub it in? You betcha! I spent Christmas Day lounging on a patio in shorts and a T-shirt while Chef Jeff grilled dinner, and you didn’t. Nyah nyah nyah.

This year Mother Media and I joined Sister-san and the aforementioned Chef at their new desert abode for Christmas. It was a brief visit filled with food (including tributary cookies!) and fun. Highlights:

• The Desert Botanical Garden (www.dbg.org). I was astonished by the amount and variety of plant life native to the southwestern desert. Forty kazillion varieties, to be more or less precise. From the familiar saguaro and barrel cacti to exotic octopus cacti and ocotillos, the grounds were jam-packed with succulents and delicate blooms. The garden provided a great excuse to walk around outside in shirtsleeves just a couple days before Christmas.

  
  

• Dress rehearsal at one of Chef Jeff’s theaters. Jeff had provided lighting design for a locally written play and snuck us into a dress rehearsal, where we saw some good acting and a bad wig. The lighting, of course, was magnificent. I really ought to go to the theater more often.

  
  

• Thunder on the mountain. Christmas Eve morning found me on the back of a Harley, hair flying in the breeze. Jealous yet? You should be. Phoenix lies in the basin of the Salt River and is ringed by mountains. Aptly named South Mountain lies just a few miles south of la Casa Marron (the Brown House), so I got a ride to the top.

  
  According to the web site, “At over 16,000 acres, South Mountain Park/Preserve often is referred to as the largest municipal park in the country. It boasts 58 miles of trails for horseback riding, hiking and mountain biking for all ability levels skills.”

  
  Though I haven’t spent much time on motorcycles, I quite enjoyed the trip. The weather was perfect, traffic was light, and the view was spectacular. Almost made me want to get a tattoo. (Just kidding, Mom.)

  
  

• Indoor/outdoor holiness. We found a local church to attend on Christmas Eve. The service was 90 percent music, with the hand bell choir providing an unexpected treat. Like most buildings in that part of the country, the church had plenty of outdoor “rooms,” including a veranda and a courtyard, to supplement its indoor space. We gathered around the campfire in the courtyard to light candles and sing Silent Night. The pastor dismissed us with a reminder to “let the light of Christ shine in your hearts -- but leave the candles here.” What, no open flames in the car?

  
  

• Giant glowing camels. After church, to uphold the tradition of looking at lights on Christmas Eve, we drove to nearby Mesa, where the Mormon church’s Arizona Temple Visitors’ Center had assembled a display of more than 600,000 lights. Wow! What a sight! We saw palm trees and cacti crusted with lights, fountains made of lights, and Nativity scenes accented with lights (and the recorded voice of James Earl Jones). The best part, however, was the trio of double-life-size camels, with attendant wise men, making their way across the arid acreage in front of the buildings. They certainly put those wire-frame lawn deer to shame.

  
  

• Bling bling. I got a lot of great gifts this year, as usual more than I deserve. Among my favorites was a deck of slang flashcards from Sister-san. (You can find them at www.knockknock.biz.) Thanks to these delightfully illustrated cards, I’m developing some mad vocabulary skills. I now have the proper terms to describe, for instance, the silver/hematite bling Mother Media scored me from her killer jewelry party (really ups my steelo) and the hella janky ceramic kitties I get as a joke gift year after year. Props to my homegirl for some way dope shopping.

  
  

So that’s the D.L. on my tight trip south. Yo, y’all, this blog dawg’s gotta bounce. Keep it real. Don’t do anything wack and don’t be a ninnyhammer. Peace. Word. Out.

Today around the world: December 29 is the birthday of His Majesty King Gyanendra Bir Bikram Shah in Nepal (home of Mt. Everest).

AND for those who have inquired about this year’s holiday missive, it’s in the works, but I’m making no promises regarding a delivery date. Thanks for asking, though.

E-mail the Media Sensation: BandNameoftheDay@hotmail.com

Visit the BND archives at http://jugglernaut.blogspot.com.