EAT ME...Squid loves eating Squid. And Squid loves the spotlight, which is why Squid also loves the annual Calamari Fest on Old Fisherman's Wharf, scheduled for May 18. It's the perfect combination of self-indulgence and cannibalism for cephalopods. Sure it's billed as a day of "family fun," with live entertainment, clowns (scary), magicians (also sometimes scary), face painting, prizes and the like. But really, it's all about Squid.

LUCKILY CALAMARI'S NOT FRENCH...Squid wonders, did anyone else find Michael C. Fletcher, Sr.'s full-page ad in the Sunday Monterey County Herald, titled "An Open Letter to Jacques Chirac--President of France," self-important and a little bit silly? Not to mention a big, fat waste of money. Sure, it says something about the Herald's political leanings, but it says even more about Fletcher, "a somewhat normal, somewhat successful American" who lives in Carmel. Squid thinks it's safe to say that President Chirac is on Fletcher's bad side. Fletcher writes that his rage is "white hot" and that he "will no longer treat you or France as my friend." Fletcher says he will no longer visit France or buy French. He reports that he went to Albertson's market in the Crossroads the other day and "did not buy French water. I bought yogurt, but I did not buy French yogurt. I love Brie cheese, but I did not buy any." Note to Fletcher: Yoplait's not French, and that Brie was likely made in California. Why, Squid asks, will Fletcher continue to boycott France "until I die" (he's 71)? Turns out he's "honoring those dead and families of the dead that suffered during 9/11." Another note to Fletcher: That was Osama bin Laden, not Saddam, and most definitely not Jacques Chirac.

LOSE YOUR NOGGIN...Squid knows it's worrisome to be a parent of school-aged cephalopod in California these days. So Squid was supremely relieved the other morning, cozying under a bed of kelp at 6:30am with Squid's two young offspring, to hear a public service announcement of sorts from the mini-mollusks' favorite public television network, Noggin. In the commercial, a young girl sits on the couch between her grandparents listening to them complain about how they had to walk miles through the snow to get to school when they were children. "Try swimming miles through the cold, dark kelp forests," Squid thinks. Then the girl's TV mother walks in and says "Honey, are you ready for preschool?" The child jumps up eagerly from the couch, puts on her little backpack, and heads across the living room...to the television set. She plunks down as her mom flips on Noggin and leaves the room, contentedly assured that her daughter is getting a preschool education without the hassle of actually having to leave the home. "Noggin brings the wonder and variety of preschool right into your living room," the announcer comments. "It's like preschool on TV, all day, everyday, from 6am to 6pm." Wow, and just when Squid was starting to worry about the cost of sending Mini-Squid and Mini-Squidette to preschool. A mere flick of the remote would save all that effort.