Nothing against Beasley; he seems to be doing pretty well with the Miami Heat. But Rose is the one earning the praise from rival coaches and players, Rose is the one making the SportsCenter highlight plays, Rose is the one who looks like he'll be a perennial All-Star and team leader, on and off the court.

Kudos to the Bulls for making the right pick. The choice looks a lot easier in hindsight than it did last summer.

Feeding the insatiable parking meter

The city of Chicago's parking meter leasing agreement with a private firm covers some 36,161 parking spots.

At any moment, 36,160 of those spots are taken. Good luck finding the open one.

It's always been a challenge to find a metered spot in Chicago, especially downtown. Even if you do find one, you have to make sure you're OK to park there if it snows, during rush hour, etc., etc.

Now comes word the price of parking is going up, up, up. Parking meters that cost 25 cents an hour will go up to $1 an hour next year. Spots in the Loop currently priced at $3 will go up to $3.50 an hour next year -- and the going rate will be a whopping $6.50 an hour by 2013.

This is one of the 10,000 ways in which real life sucks compared with the movies.

In real life, you're lucky if you can find a metered spot. If you do find a spot, it'll cost you a mini-fortune to park there.

In the movies, nobody ever has to search for a parking spot. Doesn't matter where the film is is set. The lead character could be driving to an art gallery opening in Manhattan, a trendy lunch place in West Hollywood or a popular restaurant in Chicago -- and he always finds a legal, free spot right in front of the establishment.

My ex used a knife and fork too!

I don't make it a habit of giving relationship advice in this space. It would be like Charlie Weis giving a seminar on how to charm the media, embrace a community and revolutionize the art of coaching.

However. Based on personal experience and conversations I've had with a couple of friends over the last few weeks, I would like to offer this bit of advice to anyone who is separated or newly divorced, and is starting to dip their toes into the dating pool once again:

Stop talking about your ex.

Especially when you're just meeting someone or in the early stages of getting to know that person.

Of course, it's only right that you let the other person know you've just moved out, or you got divorced last year, whatever the case may be. But what you DON'T want to do is deliver a running monologue about all the things your ex has done and is doing to make your life miserable. Nobody wants to hear it. Nobody. If you meet someone and you like that person, the surest way to kill the relationship before it even has a chance to bloom is to ramble on about the marriage that didn't work out.

"My ex stopped sleeping with me two years ago and moved into the guest bedroom . . . my ex would rather watch football all day with his buddies than go to his own son's soccer game . . . my ex had this habit of whistling first thing in the morning, it drove me crazy . . . my ex said brown was his favorite color, how weird is that . . . my ex thought 'According to Jim' was the funniest show on TV, who thinks that way?"

As you're prattling on about your ex, the person across you is thinking:

Shoot me now.

Black Friday aftermath

My item about the madness of people storming megastores in the wee hours of Black Friday in search of a bunch of stuff prompted this response from Marianne Matthews of La Grange:

"I volunteer in a community resale shop that benefits medical care, and I see the vast amount of [junk] that comes in every day -- all of it something that someone once had to have or die trying [to obtain]. It all ends up in the attic, the thrift store or the dump sooner rather than later.

"For my present this year, I've asked for a donation in my name to the Cat Nap pet shelter in La Grange: www.petfinder.com/ shelters/IL252.html."

Sounds like a plan.

It's so true about the goodies we crave -- one year we absolutely have to have something -- and a couple of years later, it's collecting dust in the attic. (Not that I'm ever going to stop worshipping the false idol known as my flat-screen TV.) So many times, I'll be cleaning out the closets or the storage area, and I'll come across some . . . thing that I once treasured. Now I barely remember where it came from or why I wanted it. Many of today's treasures are tomorrow's garage sale items.