Unlike all the other months, which are packed with exhausting appointments and obligations, February expects nothing from you. As far as February is concerned, you don’t even have to get off the couch.

Think of February as an old friend who likes you best when you’re not trying. February prefers you in holey sweaters and yoga pants. February just wants you to relax.

So relax. Embrace the void. Unleash the February in you.

We have to watch “American Idol” tonight, all of us.

Even though it looks terrible.

Even though Simon left and took with him the show’s last shred of interest.

Even though … Steven Tyler.

We have to watch “Idol” because, at this point, the show is simply too big to fail.

“When there’s someone bad in the building,” my son said, “we hide under the tables, and then we’re very, very quiet.”
We were in the car, he was 5, and he was telling me about “lockdown.” It was one of those moments … My heart dropped straight through me, straight through the floor of the car. (It landed on Dodge Street, and we had to go back for it.)
It was one of those moments … when I couldn’t believe I’d brought him here.
Here. The ultimate here.
As far as I can tell, …

Film critic Bob Fischbach and I chatted our way through the Golden Globes. Here’s proof:
Golden Globes Live with Rainbow and Bob

About five years ago, Nicholas Schnell sat down to make his annual list of New Year’s resolutions, and he realized something …
“Every list I had was stressful.”
His life was full of to-do lists, for his business, for his home. And his New Year’s list was often the most stressful of all. He always saved the really big stuff for that list — major career goals, business goals that would take a lot of work and focus. Just thinking about his resolutions was intimidating.
(Think about your resolutions — lose a lot …

So my column today is full of me judging other parents for dressing their kids like random members of Motley Crue. (I’m just not into the whole rock-star toddler scene. Only Gwen Stefani’s kids pull it off.)

But I want everyone to know that I am just as guilty of dressing my kids like twerps.

Exhibit A.

My son has pajamas that say “rock star.”

He is not a rock star. He doesn’t even know what rock music is. He refers to it as ” ‘Rock Band’ music,” because of the video game. My son’s musical tastes run more toward Disney soundtracks and songs about soldiers and boats (Time-Life story songs) than anything you’d call rock.

But “rock star” is the latest thing that clothing manufacturers have decided little boys want to be. It joins a depressingly short list: paleontologist, pirate, football player and professional skateboarder.

A (Web-exclusive!) bonus list of the pop culture stuff that mattered to me in 2010.

So this year, I’m going to make a list of everything I want to remember from 2010. Sort of a life cheat sheet. (Easier than scrapbooking, less annoying than a journal — and if I make a list every year, I’ll have a breezy, DIY memoir for people to page through at my wake.)

Here’s an abridged version of my list, curated and abridged for the Living section — I call it “Things That Changed My Life This Year, Pop Culture Edition.” (No epiphanies, career rebirths or Cub Scout meetings included.)