Country Music Association Awards
Since my dad is from Georgia, I have to be careful here. It's far too easy to make fun of this crowd. Especially when its heaviest hitters show up for the big night in jeans that met the wrong end of a Bedazzler. Three hours and more performances than Live Aid, this was less an awards show than a hootenanny. In fact, the only trophies I saw handed out went to Johnny Cash and Martina McBride, which I salute. But sending LeAnn Rimes out on stage with Kid Rock? Who's running this show, R. Kelly? Oh, and Shania Twain, darlin', you're Canadian and you live in Europe. Cowboy boots and one of Ruth Buzzi's old tops does not make you down-home, OK?

So Clark was sent to the Kents for an otherworldly reason and Lex's grandfather was a crook. Not exactly revelations, given all we already know about the Man of Steel's mythology. I just want to know what goes so wrong that he ends up with Margot Kidder instead of Kristin Kreuk.

Of course Ed's not moving to New York with Carol. But if the writers broke these two up, viewers would tune out faster than CBS can say "what Reagan movie?," so it looks like a few thousand miles will have to be their new hurdle. Hopefully, the whole thing will be resolved soon, because, really, Tom Cavanagh and Julie Bowen are just too cute to be kept apart for much longer. Though it would free up some more much-deserved airtime for Molly's suddenly messy love life. Lesley Boone, you complete me.

The Bachelor
What did I say last week? Mary's baby talk was freaking out Bob. And so it was. And so she goes. At least she got a nice trip to Jackson Hole. True, it wasn't Estella's jaunt to Belize, but she's headed for the heap, too. I'm telling you, place your bets now, gang. It's all about Kelly Jo.

The O.C.
Without getting into my weird soccer hang-ups, or the absolute adoration all of us should have for Adam Brody's Seth, I have to say, the Harbor School may be the best place for drama since Brandon Walsh's cabana-boy days at the Beverly Hills Beach Club. Sports rivalries, school fairs, catty classmates and one scary-ass headmistress all promise us a very interesting semester. And forget those teaser ads about Ryan and Marissa's first kiss. This hour's greatest moment came as soon as Samaire Armstrong returned to town as Anna from Pittsburgh. East Coast in the hizzy!

Larry King Live
Here's David Blaine talking about his 44-day starvation stunt in that plexiglass box above the Thames, and all I'm thinking is, "I fear this man may be the Devil." Think about it. The creepy street magic. The endless modelizing. Someone call Max von Sydow. As for the tip about the $100,000 treasure hunt mentioned in his new book, I'm not sure what "If my tattoo is fearless, then climb 10 weeks to find the route" means, but after hearing Blaine utter it twice, my Chihuahua Pepito began speaking in tongues. Evil, I'm telling you.

Karen Sisco
Damn, girl. I wish I was your lovah. Then I'd look like Eduardo Verastegui, the Chasing Papi hottie playing Carla Gugino's Florida Marlin mattress-mambo king. Like the Marlins aren't hot enough these days. And speaking of hot, what is with Miss Sisco running around after the lovestruck prison escapee in that porno-low-cut top?! Isn't this based on something called Out of Sight?