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Will car buyers love this throwback to the '50s as much as they do the New Beetle and the PT Cruiser? Here's a hint: the Dallas retailer Neiman Marcus has just offered a special edition of 200 T-Birds for sale in its 2000 Christmas catalog. When the phone lines opened in September, all 200 cars, priced at $41,999 each, were sold in 2 hrs. 15 min. That's more like a love bite than a mere peck on the cheek...
...life-size mermaid outside Farallon in San Francisco is the first hint that something out of the ordinary lies in store within the restaurant. And indeed it does. Inside is an underwater fantasy, from the kelp-shaped banisters and fish-scale seat cushions to the hanging lights that look like jellyfish and sea urchins. You never quite know what you're going to run into in a restaurant designed by Pat Kuleto, but chances are it's going to be at least as interesting as the food. That's why his creations are behind some of the most popular restaurants...
...same mechanisms we use to make ourselves seem smarter than we are. By midafternoon on Election Day, journalists receive exit-poll data, diced into a zillion demographic categories on whom people voted for and why. Networks use those figures to call states seconds after the polls close (and hint not so subtly at outcomes earlier in the day); print journalists use it to plan election coverage; we all use it to lord our insiderdom over less-well-connected pals. The monopolistic source of the data is the Voter News Service, an exit-polling and vote-counting consortium of the major...
...hint? The ballot-crunchers, seeming somehow closer in time to 1786 than 2000, are going to be quite a while. And that excruciating variety of potential delays, ready to be goosed into being by the two sides, will afford those reborn campaigns plenty of time to work the media hordes and talk to their lawyers about Palm Beach (which will undergo its own partial recounts over the weekend; check in Monday...
...steel-girder sets are drably unmemorable. Instead of the film's catchy '70s hits (Hot Chocolate's You Sexy Thing), we have a new score by David Yazbek, whose lyrics ("cojones" rhymed with "what testosterone is") are marginally better than his generic, '70s-pop-with-a-hint-of-Sondheim music. Even the supposed showstoppers--a black man (Andre DeShields) sings of his endowments; a crusty pianist (Kathleen Freeman) celebrates her show-biz past--seem earthbound and underchoreographed...