Blimey, that's hot First day in Dallas, and it's a hottie. 32 C (90 F) in the shade. Coming from somewhere that's been experiencing something nearer to 16 for most of the past fortnight, this takes a bit of getting used to.

Apart from a brief walk round the block, I'm indoors for the day, to acclimatise and get over the jet lag. That's my excuse for sleeping away half the afternoon, and I'm sticking to it.

Lead story on the news is how the Texas governor has declined to authorise a bill that would prohibit the state killing of people with severe learning difficulties. Or "execution of retards" as all the networks and press put it. They say that the US is the land of the politically correct; this is a story that goes against at least three tenets of the Guardian style guide.

Metaspoilers It's a bizarre experience, watching Daria 5. The show has finally developed a coherent plot, an occurrence that demands spoilers in its own right. Tonight's episode features a potentially significant event, and is played exactly like the corresponding episode My so-called Life. ("Pressure," for those in the know.) Hmm. "My So-Called Daria." Discuss.

You can always go downtown Take a lesson from Petula Clarke; take the train from West Irving to the centre of Dallas. It's a simple journey, 23 minutes and about 10 miles. The fare is $2, GBP1.40, or about 60% of what I'd pay for the 7 mile trip from my house to Birmingham centre. Nose around Deep Ellum, a Bohemian district to the east of the centre. The only problem is that I'm there at midday, and the area seems only to be populated after nightfall. One lives and learns.

Later, head to Cedar Springs, where there are plenty of fun and funky gift shops. Out comes a t-shirt, and candle holder, before taking a scrumptious meal at Brazil Cafe. It's a great trip: I get to bond a little with Heather, Jae's significant other; and do some shopping; and experience the white-knuckle ride that is the Dallas freeway system.

Game show update Andy is booted off Survivor, on the not entirely unreasonable grounds that he is far better at the physical challenges than the other contestants. Paul's back up for eviction on Big Brother, along with Narinder. She's fallen from Final Four to Early Exit in the space of a week. And Weakest Link USA has no less than *five* breaks in the middle. That's at least two too many.

Feeling hot? Not today: I'm avoiding the 96 degree heat (too many C) by staying in well into the evening. And watching lots of great game shows. The Price Is Right features a break after every game, and every showcase element: nine breaks in the full hour show. I think we did it better with Leslie Crowbar back in the 80s. Win Ben Stein's Money is amazingly cereberal, probably somewhere around University Challenge standard. It's a great format, and it's a shame the UK version with Jezza Beadle didn't quite work. Jeopardy! is easy-peasy by comparison - it may just be today's categories, but I found it slightly easier than WBSM, somewhere around Fifteen To One standard. Alex Treebark is a first-rate host, and Steve Jones of the UK version doesn't cut it by comparison. History IQ is another smart show, spoiled slightly by the endgame, where contestants try to sequence events to a year by a clunky touch-screen interface. This is great for interactivity, but doesn't cut it as a spectacle. And Supermarket Sweep isn't hosted by Dale Winton, which can only let the side down.

New tonight: You Don't Know Jack, the return to prime-time television of Paul Reubens, almost ten years after he lost the gig as Pee-Wee Herman after being caught winking in a cinema. The show is based on the computer game, and is really comedy with a game show veneer. Reminds me a lot of Anthony H Wilson's "Remote Control" (C4, circa 1990) and Tim Vine's "Fluke" (C4, 1997). Utterly stupid, but fine in small doses.

So much for objectivity Watching the WB news, which leads on a mother who claims she killed her five children in a fit of post-partum rage. "It's an atrocious crime," said the anchor, with the caption behind reading "UNTHINKABLE". Folks, it happened, it can be thought. And is a prime-time bulletin *really* the most appropriate place for this sort of tabloid editorialising? Weaver thinks not.

Lights and thunder Back before the skies start to darken, there are rumbles coming from the sky, and it looks a lot like it's going to piddle it down heavily. (Remind me to ask Dr Wordsmith if one can piddle heavily. I'm really not sure.)

Dr Wordsmith Writes: No. The only thing that piddles down is me after ten pints. Which reminds me, you owe me one when you get back.

Road trip: Out to see some houses that Jae and Heather are thinking of buying. Some of them are big, some are small. Not all have a garage, which is generally seen as A Useful Thing. One of the houses is lying vacant and with its back door open, so we have a quick poke about. No-one tell the cops and we'll be OK.

Arts and craftiness Heather is jolly kind, and takes me down to the West End district of Dallas City. We look at some of the sculptures (yes, that'll be me hanging on to a stampeding metal bull when the photos come back) and stagger into Planet Wallyhood. One swift lunch later, stake out the adjacent mall where there are lots of antiques shops and such. One of the more prissy security guards takes exception to Heather wearing her baseball cap backwards, claiming it's against the mall's dress code. We ask her to show where this code is explained, and she can't. Who is the biggest jobsworth in the mall? Whose uniform size exceeds their brain?

US Millionaire: The basic format may be the same, but the interpretation is very different. There's a standing question over whether the US or the UK version has the more difficult questions; the jury is still out. From a presentation point of view, the Fastest Finger round (no First here) is a marvel; blended shots of the contestants and someone punching buttons on the panel. It looks great. The family member in the studio audience sits under a faint spotlight, just over the contestant's shoulder - it's cute, but it moves the contestant away from centre stage. After using ATA, there's a camera pan to move the contestant back to the centre of the shot, which isn't on the UK guide book. The radial lights from the centre podium are used far more than in the UK, flashing during FF(F), and moving during the ad links. (No caption either side of the break, that's the US way.) Even ABC's DOG goes off screen for most of the show, which is only to be encouraged.
But the main point is that host Regis Philbin is not Chris Tarrant. Chris' ability to extract the maximum tension from a question is legendary. He'll repeat the question, make darned sure that it's the final answer, go through the options again, let it go yellow. Then we'll go for a break, and Chris will run through every rejected answer, saying that it's wrong. Regis will ask the question, let the contestant stew, take an answer, make it final, and give the result. There are no catchphrases - "They're only easy if you know the answer," "I have nothing on my screen" and the infamous "But we don't want to give you *that*!" have all been lost in transit. It's a shame.

Red letter day It's Heather's birthday, and it's my mother's birthday - happy returns are wished to all. We head off to the airport mid-afternoon. Cory's journey from New York to Tucson isn't a direct flight - there are stops in Washington DC, Dallas, and Phoenix. We go to meet her on the middle stop, because we're nice people and Cory's - well, she's Cory, and that's more than good enough for me.
People at New Street station know that I'm not the greatest waiter in history, and I'm even worse waiting at airports where there's no announcement to know if the plane has landed. By the time the plane lands at the gate, I'm pacing the floor and pretty much climbing the walls with anxiety, tempted to go out to the apron and haul the plane in myself. That's not required, it arrives in its own sweet time. I'm standing with a card for Cory, and a sprat of about five years asks his parents what it says. A couple of girls come off the plane, smile... and head for their friends, standing just behind me. And then a lass with braids comes into view, breaks into a huge smile, and does something of a double take. In a second, I just *know* it's Cory. In two seconds, we're sharing the tightest, closest, most intense hug ever.
Sod's law says that her connection is in less than an hour, and leaves from the far end of the terminal. So, we walk all the way round the terminal building, finally finding the gate. Discuss how cool NY was (Janeane Garofolo *and* some soap star *and* Lixz *and* Cory.) Pledge to meet for new year. And then, it's all over. Cory's on her plane, I'm floating back with Jae and Heather to the car, and the world is a better place. I met Cory! Whoo-hoo and hurrah!

But wait... there's more It being Heather's birthday, we break to MFI Tuesday for meal, then head on a club of her choice. It's got a floor show, it's got drag acts. This is a novel experience, with hosts who try to be Anne Robinson and fail; and acts who try to entertain and (generally) run the same show over and over again. I genuinely don't see the attraction. Later, Jae does her turn on the dancefloor; my word, she's a good dancer, and attracts a huge crowd.

So, what now? Jae wakes with a humungous hangover, and I have the strange idea to try and pull it out. Even more strangely, it works - the worst of the headache is gone, set to be washed down the drain within minutes. It's never worked that well before, but who's complaining?
A brief trip to the mall yields the rest of the shopping - prezzies for Dad and the sister, a Time pictures of the century book for me, along with some trousers and T-shirts at ridiculous prices. And the movie of the week is The Truth About Cats And Dogs. It may be cut (the whole phone sex scene ends up snipped) but it's still a great movie.