I haven't stayed home to watch a TV show in years. Maybe even a whole decade. There have been other shows I liked, of course. S and I got into X-Files for a while, but only in re-runs. The Daily Show (love it!) has been the closest thing to a "regular" for me since 2000, but I don't usually watch it every night either and end up watching it in re-run too. Sex and the City on DVD got me through that first horrible week in February after S deployed to Afghanistan. I left the house only to walk our ailing dog Casey; the rest of the three days I lived with Carrie and the girls in beautiful Manhattan, listening in on their conversations about sex and love and men. It was luscious.

But Morgan Spurlock's "30 Days" is different. It's not about escape or fantasy. It's about transformation. I'm completely hooked.

In tonight's episode we follow Ryan, a 24-year old conservative Christian from Michigan who is anti-homosexual, to the Castro District of San Francisco where he lived with Ed, a gay man, for thirty days. Spurlock is an expert casting agent -- he manages to find ernest, honest people who are willing to share their prejudices and are willing to open themselves up to ridicule and, most importantly, to change. Ryan hangs out with Ed and his friends, works in a wine and cheese shop in the neighborhood, and goes to a church headed by a lesbian. He doesn't hide his beliefs. He challenges everyone, telling them he thinks homosexuality is a sin and that no gays should be allowed in the military (he was in the Army reserves).

Over the thirty days, we see him change as he gets to know Ed and his friends better and is exposed to a plethora of new experiences. He meets gay vets at the American Legion; goes to a gay bar with Ed and his friends; plays softball with some of the toughtest, strongest men he's known, all gay. He meets Ed's family and sees him as a son, uncle, and brother. And he meets PFLAG members, in particular a father of a gay daughter who talks frankly with Ryan about his daughter's coming out and his initial shock. The father asserts that his daughter should have the same rights as his two straight sons, and Ryan can't disagree with him. They both have a love of family, and Ryan can respect the father's desire to have all of his children treated equally. Ryan has a similar revelation toward the end of the month when he and Ed talk about gays in the military, and Ed asks Ryan if he would be comfortable serving next to him. Ryan realizes the conundrum he's created and decides that yes, of course, he would be honored to serve with Ed because he's sure he would make an excellent soldier.

It was interesting, too, when Ryan's best friend from Michigan came to visit for a weekend. They go to the same gay bar with Ed, but this time Ryan and his friend take off their shirts and dance, in a mocking way, and get drunk. The next morning Ryan is full of regret, and maybe even embarrassment, because he really has changed and has become more accepting of people different than him. It's so easy to fall into the expectations others have of you, I think, which is why his regret the next day is so remarkable. I understood how he felt. Spurlock smartly follows Ryan back home, so we get to see him talking to his family about his experiences, showing them pictures and sharing stories, and we hear him say out loud how he's a more tolerant person, a "better person," than he was before he left.

I know "30 Days" will not transform our society into a tolerant one in a few hour-long episodes. Unfortunately, most people have to experience things themselves before they will change in a meaningful way. But even if this show only changes the participants, who go home with hearts and minds more open than when they left, the world will have been made better. Ryan is not the man he was on Day 1 (and neither is Ed for that matter). He has the opportunity to share his experience with his friends and family now, and who knows, he might change a few minds along the way when he challenges their prejudices and assumptions. How can that be anything but good?

Morgan has a blog now. So far it's just posts regarding the upcoming shows. Perhaps it will get better as the show progresses. I'd love to read some "behind-the-scenes" stories, like how he finds the participants and what the interview process is like. I wonder, too, what happens several months down the road when they've been home for a while and their communities' pressures are back in place. I think most prejudices come down to group identification and fear of the all-inclusive "other"; I can imagine the pressure is immense to agree with your friends and family. How difficult it must be to argue with the people you love.

So, yeah, I know where I'll be next Wednesday, 9 p.m. What a new thing for me.

Okay, I'm no fan of Judith Miller. As a neocon who was instrumental in making the case for the invasion of Iraq on the front page of the New York Times, she's not exactly my favorite journalist. But should she be arrested and thrown in jail for not revealing a source? No. It's made even more absurd by the fact that Prosecutor Fitzgerald has said Miller's source has revealed himself, making her non-revelation meaningless.

We all know that freedom of the press is the hallmark of democracy. Jailing journalists, on the other hand, is the hallmark of repressive, totalitarian regimes.

Coincidence?

Right on, brother.

If only she was a regular contributor...how completely cool is Sarah Vowell! I've read two of her books -- "Take the Connoli" and "Partly Cloudy Patriot." I sent a copy of her newest, "Assassination Vacation," to S though I know he's not had time to read any of it. He emailed me today, the first time in over a week. Seems he's been so busy he's not showered since then. What a surprise; given how much is going on in Asadabad right now, it's a wonder he was able to email me at all.

Sarah Vowell is a 21st century Mark Twain, or perhaps Will Rogers since she's part Cherokee too. Here's an excerpt from her column about Pat Robertson, Live 8, the supreme court vacancy, and well, being a Democrat:

Robertson is one of the people in this dream I've had for 20 years, a nightmare I call "the handshake dream." In it, I am attending some G.O.P. all-star party. (A girl can dream.) And I have to decide whose hand I deign to shake. Bob Dole and John McCain: of course (war heroes). Orrin Hatch: fine (stem cells). But Robertson? He's always been a solid "No way!" as he sulks by the punch bowl with Strom.

Seeing Robertson in that commercial with Bono - and Bono's hair - is a little like listening to Paul Anka's new recording of Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit." At first, it's jarring to hear the guy who wrote "Puppy Love" for Donny Osmond sing Kurt Cobain's lyrics: "a mosquito, my libido." But listen hard and you can hear what Anka hears. He doesn't hear the ranting of weirdos. He hears the poetry, the architecture of a justifiably standard song like "Autumn in New York," like "Fly Me to the Moon."

My soft spot for strange bedfellows aside, I am a capital-D Democrat who still believes in the value of partisan politics. And I hold onto that belief despite the fact that I belong to a party whose only true talent is writing exceedingly eloquent concession speeches.

On Monday, anticipating an epic dust-up regarding his new nominee for the Supreme Court, President Bush said he hoped that special-interest groups on both sides would "tone down the heated rhetoric." They shouldn't, though.

This is about the lifetime appointment of a person who will be making life and death decisions for millions of people for decades to come, not about some petty time waster like - come on, again? - flag burning. It's so important that we should agree to melt together on the slopes of a Kilauea of issue-ad spew.

Agreed!