Columnist Scott Dickensheets: Watch out: He's a critic and he's at-large

YOU MAY HAVE noticed elsewhere in the Sun some small explanation of our spiffy new look. The changes are deep and far-reaching -- so far-reaching, in fact, that I've been redesigned myself. I now look like Tom Cruise.

I also have thinner thighs, washboard abs and buns of steel. More importantly, this column is changing as well. The bosses, figuring there must be vast tracts of my brain untaxed by chipper little essays on domestic miscellanea, would like to see more gray cells used per salary dollars paid. They're driving me to think!

Henceforth, my little corner of the Sun will be called Critic At Large (that's their choice; my own suggestions -- "Large Critic," "This Old Column," and, of course, "The Column That Reads Like 900 Icepicks Jabbing Into Your Skull as You're Passing a Kidney Stone and Weasels Are Chomping at Your Flesh While You're Opening a Jury Summons" -- were vigorously rejected). It will appear on Tuesdays and Sundays.

As the stately new title implies, I'll be brainstorming furiously on weighty matters: The arts, pop culture, pressing social issues. Don't take "critic" to mean "entertainment reviewer"; the Movie Guys can rest easy. When I ponder films, books and art exhibits, it will be in the light of some connected topic. Nor will I construe "critic" as a mandate to gripe and, well, criticize. We're using "critic" to mean someone who takes careful, considered -- that is, critical -- looks at things. Picture me in thoughtful repose, like "The Thinker" but with an editor and a deadline.

Of course, I've dabbled in this sort of thing all along, but usually between mock-epic tales of my kitchen mishaps, garage cleanings and household whimsy. To fans of that stuff (hi Mom!), I'm sorry to say, no more kitchen mishaps. No more garage cleanings. No more household whimsy. This is a "lifestyle column" no more.

In a spirit of closure, then, a spirit of coming full circle, a spirit of stocking this space with trifles one last time, here are some final words on what we can laughingly call "the grand themes" of The Column Formerly Known As.

CLEANING MY GARAGE: Where it was once guilty of grimes against humanity, my garage has known cleanliness. Since I last addressed this issue, we have thrown away all the unneeded junk, broken toys and ancient magazines that made it uninhabitable. Everywhere you looked, a bright, gleaming emptiness! That made it an ideal place to put all the unneeded junk, broken toys and ancient magazines we moved out of the house during spring cleaning but couldn't bear to part with. So it's a mess again and probably always will be.

EATING MY VEGGIES: Our vegetarianism goes well, although my wife has proposed adding a modest amount of chicken to our diet each week. She's afraid her hair is falling out from a lack of protein.

DOMESTIC WHIMSY: Still can't cook. Still haven't killed every last ant in the yard. Still being outwitted by my 5-year-old.

And so much for all that. Now we break out the thinking caps.

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