Everybody’s business

AOL angst
If there’s anything in the mail that’s more of a waste of resources than charity address labels with my name spelled wrong, it’s those stupid AOL CDs. With all their money troubles, you’d think AOL would realize that most people aren’t sitting around wondering how they will ever get Internet services and hoping that, mercifully, a shiny disc will arrive in the mail to guide their way.

Since Earth Day 2002, A.S. Recycling at Chico State University has been collecting the evil metal donuts as part of a nationwide effort to eventually dump a million of them on the doorsteps of AOL’s corporate headquarters.

“Our goal is to collect 10,000 of them by 2007,” said Barbara Kopicki , director of the program. “This is a protest against junk mail.”

They have 458 so far, most of which were received in campus mail. Drop yours off at the A.S. Recycling Office in the Bell Memorial Union. To learn more about the campaign, see www.nomoreaolcds.com.

(As an addendum to the above screed, I must add that the little metal tins are great for crafting, which unfortunately renders them unrecyclable. The CDs also make serviceable paint palettes.)

Chico, Colorado?
I almost feel badly about making fun of Wal-Mart; it’s just so easy.

I got the Wal-Mart 2004 Family Cookbook in the mail last week, with a press release letting me know that “Kathryn Duncan of Chico, Colorado, is one of the cooks featured in this new keepsake cookbook.” It even gave details about Duncan’s Chocolate-Cherry Cake, which, “because of the cherries [is] a natural for a Washington’s Birthday celebration.”

I was able to confirm that Duncan is not in the Rockies, because her store number is 2044: Chico’s.

Also featured, but not mentioned in the release, is Tortilla Stacks by associate Char White of the Chico store, and also Julie Meyer ’s Fruit Pizza, hailing from distribution center No. 6026 in Red Bluff.

My dig is nothing against the book itself, which has several good recipes, with pictures of each—I love that in a cookbook. Congrats, sincerely, to the local cooks.

No Hollywood reporter
It’s been a humbling experience trying to run down a rumor that Sarah Michelle Gellar of Buffy the Vampire Slayer fame was tooling around Chico sipping Dutch Bros. coffee in her slick car on Halloween night.

In People magazine, they always have actors’ publicists confirming or denying one thing or another, so I set about looking for Gellar’s publicist. Apparently, publicists are non-people rarely quoted by name, so after 15 minutes of searching I settled for Freddie Prinze Jr. ’s, figuring since they’re supposed to be married he would know where she was on All Hallow’s Eve.

That call got me a clipped, “We don’t do Sarah,” and I was transferred to another L.A. publicist, who had never heard of Chico, even after I swallowed big and offered up, “Party school?” She barked, “Phone number?” and typed my response into a computer and started to hang up. “Uh, wait.” I said, feeling the female version of emasculation. “What do I do now?” At least that got a laugh: “You wait for someone to call you back.”

If Gellar was here on Halloween, she was probably pretty disappointed and cast a spell upon us all.