Once again, the Passenger has eluded the clutches of the admittedly well coifed but nonetheless terrifying forces of blackest evil, but it was close, too close. At this very moment I'm in sunny Orange County, Calif., taking full advantage of its ongoing prosperity, cultural and spiritual amenities and indigenous cuisine. Don't be fooled; this isn't a crusade - it's just your standard vacation, dodging an altogether different brand of evil.

Beats working, eh? Enjoy this week's pop culture report, and consider this question: who, indeed, is the leader of the club that's made for you and me?
 

The best band in America? The Passenger isn't at all sure if he cares to throw his two cents into that ongoing sweepstakes, but it can't be denied that Wilco is doing stuff the other guys aren't capable of. Their music feels classically American, as if it's been with us since Roosevelt (Teddy, that is). Jeff Tweedy's lyrics are instantly memorable - "Outta Mind (Outta Sight)", "Sunken Treasure" and "Red-Eyed and Blue" stick in your head even after a perfunctory first listen. Now, with the release of Mermaid Avenue, Wilco undertakes the biggest challenge of its career, the mere concept of which would sink most other bands: providing music to recently-unearthed lyrics from Woody Guthrie's distinguished pen, in collaboration with renown British folksinger Billy Bragg. The resulting album is pure Wilco - beautiful, proud - which is a roundabout way of saying that it's pure genius.
 

"Thou Shalt Not Covet Drive-through Convenience." "Thou Shalt Not Worship Golden Arches." "Thou Shalt Tip Thy Waitress Generously." These commandments - along with seven others of equal importance - make up the backbone of Diner City, an ultracool tribute to an institution that shouldn't be fading. Though composed mostly of pictures of diner exteriors (and it's always nice to see Ed Debevic's) Diner City should raise your hankering for corned beef hash, marble-top counters and the comforting attentiveness of waitresses named Dottie inside of five minutes. Find out how that classic diner got there, what you should be reading while waiting for your patty melt and why should value diners above Wendy's, Denny's and just about everybody else's two-bit corporate chow trough. Order up.
 

The movies? You want to go to the movies? Where you pay to "see one movie but hear four" (thank you, Billy Crystal), shell out the nose for crap like "Armageddon," and risk life and limb to find a fatty parking spot for your precious SUV? The Passenger probably doesn't have to tell you why you should embrace the Drive-In Theater before it's too late, but just in case you're still too thick to take the hint (mind-control drugs in the popcorn; I can't prove it yet, but I will), check out this fantastic page with all possible speed. See what's playing tonight. Find the theater closest to you - that is, if one still exists. Marvel at the marching snack foods. Get hip to this timely tip my sentimental friend, before the era passes forever.