Matt pointed out to me last night that I'd made a slight error in my Wednesday entry: In describing my favorite dinner, I said I wanted Outback Steakhouse's Cinnamon Thunder for dessert. The dessert is actually called Cinnamon Oblivion. I was confusing it with Chocolate Thunder From Down Under, I guess. Anyway, it's fixed now.

And after yesterday's entry, K.T. and I have been having a conversation via e-mail lately about "favorites." I won't quote the entire conversation, because it's long and involved and has just lately turned into lists of examples, but the gist of the original point was a distaste for the word "favorite" because it implies that the so-designated thing is intrinsically better than everything else. I don't think the word ought to be banished - there are categories for which I have favorites. I listed The Princess Bride as my favorite movie of all-time, but there are times when I don't want to watch it. Does that mean it's not my favorite anymore? Of course not. If I had to choose only one movie to watch ever again in my life it would still be The Princess Bride. It is my favorite movie.

But there are categories for which I have no favorites. Favorite book? No idea. Changes from week to week. And I wouldn't recommend certain books to certain people, and just because I tell you I think you'd like a book doesn't mean that it was my favorite. It doesn't even mean that I liked it - just that I think you will. Sure, there is a core set of books that I've read and re-read until the words have been permanently engraved on my memory. But even that list rotates. When I was in high school and well into college, Glen Cook's Black Company series was - beyond a doubt - my favorite series. Now? I haven't picked up one of those books in years. Through most of college, Mercedes Lackey's Heralds of Valdemar books were among my most frequently re-read, but I haven't picked them up lately because I don't like the newer ones. I don't have a favorite book anymore. There are probably twenty books in my favorite books list. It doesn't mean anything to anyone besides me, anyway. If you want me to recommend a book, I'm much more likely to take into account what I know of your interests than my own favorites, assuming I know you at all.

Favorite song/album/musical artist? Hmph. I have an awful confession to make. I don't really give a shit about music. It's mostly just noise to me. There are songs that I like, and songs that I hate, and songs that I don't care about one way or the other, but seventy-five percent of the time, I'd much rather not listen to anything at all. I keep the radio on in the car because in the morning I like to hear the weather and news (it's often the only news I hear all day) and because I like to sing, and singing along with the radio is easy. But at home, I couldn't care less. If Matt puts on a CD, that's fine. If he doesn't, that's fine too. Every now and then, I'll really want to hear a certain song or CD or artist, and I'll put them on and play them over and over, and then I'll forget about music for another few days or weeks or months. There are a couple of bands that I almost always enjoy, but I don't consider them favorites.

"Favorite" also denotes real enjoyment. If you asked me what was my favorite sport to watch, I'd probably tell you basketball. But it isn't really. I don't like sports much at all. Basketball gets the top spot by virtue of being the sport I dislike the least, not by being the one I like the most. Is that a favorite? It doesn't sound like it to me, but anyone bothering to ask me about favorite sports probably isn't interested in that sort of detailed analysis.

One of the reasons I stopped using Microsoft's Internet Exporer as my web browser was that it started calling its bookmarks "favorites." How obnoxious is that? It was useful to me to bookmark my company's internal webpage, because that was where all the phone numbers and e-mail addresses were stored, but it was certainly not among my favorite websites! Ditto for sites such as UPS and FedEx tracking and search engines. These are extremely useful pages, and I visit them very frequently - but I don't like them per se. Netscape still calls bookmarks bookmarks, which I appreciate because it acknowledges that I may need access to something that is useful but not enjoyable.

I've rambled on long enough on this topic. You're my favorite reader, really.