(MUST BE) THE MONEY: Terrell Owens is the subject of this GQ profile of a football player with a usual set of problems: despite a relatively unflashy life, he's out of work and out of money. Now it's his fault -- bad personal decisions, bad family decisions. But I'm sympathetic to these guys -- even TO. They never learned to handle a dollar because they never had one in the first place. But this is, for many of them, all of the money they will ever make and given they'd never seen how fast a family can use up $60K or $100K, $3 or $4M a year must seem inexhaustible. $80M in lifetime earnings. And it's gone.

ACCIO TRIBUTE!  For being the world's highest-grossing film franchise in history (non-adjusted for inflation, in which case it would be the James Bond films, albeit with 3x the films), the Harry Potter series sure hasn't gotten any respect from the Academy.  In sum, the eight films have received twelve nominations in total, none for acting/writing/directing, and zero wins. Alan Rickman, still, has never received an Oscar nomination in his life.

(By way of comparison, the Lord of the Rings trilogy received thirty nominations overall and won seventeen Oscars -- 4/13 for Fellowship, 2/6 on Two Towers, 11/11 for Return of the King.)

The series deserves better. Steve Kloves, J.K. Rowling, the actors, and the producing team deserve credit for an overall faithful, entertaining, family-friendly adaptation of a deservedly legendary series of books. They picked great kids a decade ago who matured into the actors they needed; the UK's finest thespians were well-used in filling out this world. When you consider how many adaptations fail to capture their source material accurately, the Harry Potter films cleared a high bar indeed.

So, with only three nominations this year, all in technical categories, what is to be done?  I think an Honorary Oscar to commemorate the overall achievement would be appropriate, except those were already given out this year. (Make an exception!) Otherwise, at a minimum, they should at least do a three-minute tribute reel, then bring out the cast and behind-the-scene team for the long standing ovation they richly deserve. This is only common sense—not magic.

THIRTEEN YEARS AND FOUR MONTHS:  This week's Wire Wednesday episode, "Old Cases," is all about being Real Police. Unlike the first three episodes, it doesn't feel like there's an even split between police-side and street-side plots; there's much more focus on the police, and we finally get to see competence (even intelligence) all around.

The crescendo is what apparently's just referred to as the "fuck" scene (NSFW, but you know that by now, because it's used about 38 times), a symphony of language and Bunk & McNulty's intelligence perfectly set up by D'Angelo's prior narration of what happened—like an inner-city version of that opening computer graphics scene in Titanic which shows us exactly how the ship will sink. And we've also got Lester's figuring of D'Angelo's pager number, setting up the next stage of the investigation.

Sure, there's dumb law enforcement too -- Bodie's escape from Boys Village and all the insurance/pension scam stuff does not reflect well on Baltimore's Finest, nor does the titular shunting of real police like Lester into more than a decade of index card work. But for once, I feel like the police may actually have a chance to crack the Barksdale operation.

About that operation: they've got a problem other than the police, and his name is Omar. I have no idea how shocking his being gay came off at the time—this is one of those facts I absorbed from the culture about the show, so I expected it—but it's certainly unique, and unlike Vito Spatafore on The Sopranos not at all played for laughs. I would not want to be Avon Barksdale's top priority, and am intrigued to see what happens next.

ENJOY EVERY SANDWICH:  Warren Zevon would have turned 65 today; he's now been gone from us for over eight years. Here's "Roland, the Headless Thompson Gunner," and, oh, his appearance on a particularly cursed episode of The Larry Sanders Show.

COOPER, YOU'RE AN AMAZING DANCER, AND YOU'RE A GREAT CHOREOGRAPHER, BUT AS A BOYFRIEND ... YOU KINDA SUCK: A certain segment of our readership will care that Ethan Stiefel has announced his impending retirement as a principal dancer for the American Ballet Theater, and will give his final performance as Ali, the Slave, in ABT’s production of Le Corsaire on Saturday evening, July 7, 2012. [HT: Linda Holmes.]

WHAT PART OF "LIFETIME APPOINTMENT" DON'T YOU GET, SIR? ... NEVERMIND, HE GOT IT: The Hon. Wesley Brown joined the federal bench in 1958, appointed as a bankruptcy judge by President Dwight Eisenhower, and was promoted to the United States District Court for the District of Kansas by President John F. Kennedy in 1962. He had grown up next door to freed slaves; when he attended college, Calvin Coolidge was President.

"You know, he could have retired years ago at full salary," explained one of his colleagues on the bench when Brown turned 93. "But I think one of the reasons he stays is because he doesn't believe in doing something for nothing. He couldn't take the taxpayers' money for not working."

Judge Brown continued to hear a full docket of cases well past the age of 100, and did not reduce his caseload until last year. Judge Brown passed away last night at the age of 104.

AM I BUGGIN' YA? In response to our recent discussion, a helpful reader notes that in today's NYT crossword puzzle, the clue for 42-Down is "U2 Guitarist," and there are seven letters, not four.  (No, "Clayton" doesn't work.)