The times, they are a-changin' ...

I've been thinking a lot about change lately because a lot of it seems to be going on around me -- friends ending relationships, a bunch of co-workers leaving, a dear friend moving away and the end of a very close friendship.

I used to love change. The best part of college and high school was that every semester, you would get new classes -- a chance to do new things, meet new people, learn things you didn't know before. It was one of the big things I missed after college. In the working world, you don't get to meet new people every several months. That seemed sad.

But now I find myself a little wary of change. I'll never want my life to be stagnant, but lately I've been feeling the desire to be a little less transient. Moving every year will do that to you after awhile, I suppose. But the desire to put down roots is a little surprising for someone who's been a bit of a jet-setting bachelor. I'm actually thinking of buying a house next year. That requires a level of commitment to your place of living that I haven't really shown yet, so the idea is a little intimidating. But I think it's about time.

I've also been thinking about goodbyes lately. I'm not always very good at them. In "High Fidelity" style, my top four memorable goodbyes (many are close, but these stick out), though these aren't in any order:

1) Third grade: SG was my first close female friend. We used to play one-on-one kickball during recess (which is just as difficult as it sounds). And we had crushes on each other. When it was time to say goodbye, though, she went to hug me. I think I threw up her arms and walked away. Looking back, I suppose I just didn't want to give that final hug -- the indication that this was it.
It was an awful thing to do, and I apologized in the first letter I wrote her after the move. She said she understood -- I was a boy after all. But still, I know it hurt her.
I don't regret much in my life, figuring I learn even from the mistakes, but that's a moment I would take back if I could.

2) Fifth grade: D and I hung out for the last time, and as her mom dropped me off back at my house, D asked if I wanted to go for ice cream. I said I couldn't because we would be leaving soon. I actually didn't know, and had I asked, I'm sure it would have been fine. But again, I think I just couldn't bear to draw it out any longer, even though it would have been nice to have those few extra moments.

3) Leaving Duluth: A great lunch with good friends. And then a bitter dessert of tears. When the guys all get choked up with each other, you know it's gonna be messy when it's time to say goodbye to the girls. And it was. I was teary the whole drive out of town.

4) Just the other day: There have been times when I've said goodbye to people knowing I would probably never see them again, but it was comforting to know that we could at least keep in touch via e-mail or phone calls. I recently said goodbye to someone I care a lot about knowing that those would probably be the last words we would ever speak to each other, and it's much harder. Most of the time we say goodbye, but don't really mean it; it's more of a "see you later" or "talk to you later." Goodbye as really goodbye ... well, it sucks. But everything in life happens for a reason, and my hope is that this decision was for the best.

But goodbyes still suck.

Brian and the Chocolate Fountain

I'm normally fairly in my element at wedding receptions. I usually know a fair amount of the people and make friends easily. I dance with as many of the single ladies as possible. And I can be charming for a night. Any longer than that, and I'm in trouble, but for a night? No problem.

And you know how there's always that one guy at the reception who dances like a crazy man and clearly has no fear of embarrassment? I am often that guy (assuming no one else has beaten me to the role). At a wedding last summer, I was the one (OK, one of the two) doing crazy dances to a "Footloose" song and breaking out the dancing staples such as The Running Man, The Sprinkler, The Shopper, Starting the Lawn Mower, Slow Thriller and all the rest. And when the DJ declared an air guitar contest, I was the one who immediately hit my knees and slid out to the middle of the dance floor to make a spectacle of myself.

So it was a little weird to find myself as a bit of a wallflower at the wedding reception I attended this weekend. The guest list leaned heavily toward family, and the number of people about my age was probably only a dozen or so, only a few of whom I knew. And only a few of the women appeared to be single. And they all left rather early before I'd worked up the courage to ask them dance.

But I had also been distracted by the woman in charge of the chocolate fountain.

Yes, they had a chocolate fountain, where chocolate cascaded down for dipping all manner of delectable items. And next to it was a girl who seemed to be about my age -- cute; seemed friendly; knew the lyrics to most of the songs the DJ played and sang along; got teary-eyed during the father-bride dance and one of the toasts; had dark blond hair and brown eyes, a combination I've always found attractive; and had a killer smile, and I'm a sucker for a good smile.

I like chocolate. I like nice, cute girls. The whole setup seemed like a gift from God.

I bided my time, waiting for the initial crowds to pass to make my first impression. And I discussed with my two friends how I should play it. I wanted something boyishly charming -- something endearing, but not too suave. These were some of the ideas that were discarded:
1) Refined: Taste the chocolate and then say, "Mmm ... tastes like a Hershey's vintage. Maybe 2003? That was a good year for chocolate."
2) Classic: "You know, if I had made the alphabet, I would have put U and I together."
3) Contemporary: "If you were an item on a McDonald's menu, you'd be called McBeautiful."
4) Sympathetic: "So are you stuck sitting here all night just to make sure that there aren't any freak chocolate accidents or something?"

There were others, but they were even less memorable. I finally decided on an approach that would somehow involve being charmingly clueless about how the chocolate fountain worked. I had never actually seen one until that night, so it seemed easy to pull off. And I know women like a man who needs a little help every once and awhile. Then I could segue into more of a get-to-know-you conversation.

When I approached, she turned and smiled -- a good sign. I smiled back.

And then I sort of panicked.

I don't remember exactly what I said, but it was definitely not smooth. It may very well have been a series of grunts and pointing back and forth between the chocolate fountain and the strawberry I was holding. At any rate, she just said, "You're doing just fine," gave me a smile that said "Your idiocy would be cute if you were, oh, 5 years old" and turned her attention back to the dance floor.

I may have mumbled something and then made my way back to my table.

It's times like that that make me think of myself when I hear the John Mayer song "My Stupid Mouth."

I went back up there a couple of times during the night, but the vibe was clearly not there. So I merely pined from afar, as I'm wont to do anyhow.

I knew I should have gone with the McBeautiful line ...

Flights of fancy

Does anyone else who watches "Lost" view plane flights differently now? I'm not scared that I'm going to crash or anything, but now every time I get on the plane, I find myself scoping out the other passengers and wondering, if we should crash on a mysterious island where polar bears and invisible man-eating monsters run amok, who among these people will make up the core group of characters that I will have to depend on?

Most of the time, I think I'd be screwed.

The in-flight magazine on my last flight had an article about Iceland and how they still believe in elves, gnomes, trolls, fairies, mountain spirits and 13 evil Santas. They also believe in ghosts and hidden beings that live in a parallel world to us but occasionally help people and eat pancakes. Many people genuinely believe in these creatures and will take major pains to avoid disturbing them. Others are skeptical, but find it best to act as if they do exist, just in case.

In a world driven by science and logic, and being of such ilk myself, I find it strangely comforting that there's still a land where people believe in magic and fairy tales -- in things unseen. It strikes me as having an element of faith to it, but without the frequent subversion that religion has endured. After all, no one ever went to war or killed anyone else because of a gnome.

And if it means you're a little more considerate of nature and have an active imagination, well, maybe we should all be so lucky as to believe in elves.

And now for a break in your regularly scheduled programming

I didn't do news in a nutshell this week. Just didn't get around to it. Sorry. I may not next week either cuz I'm going home for a few days.

But I'm posting tonight because I promised my friend Southern Belle* I would when I got home. (* Name may change at a later date. This is the fourth one I've decided on, but I think there might be something better. But I'm not thinking too clearly right now. I'm too sleepy. So it'll have to do for now. Sorry.)

Anywhooo. We went to the bar to shoot some pool after work but it was crowded and the table was taken. So instead I drank half a glass of hard cider and got a little tipsy. This should come as absolutely no surprise to those of you familiar with my alcohol intolerance. In my defense, I forgot to eat dinner at work except for some chicken noodle soup. But really, that's no defense and I'm prepared for the onslaught of snide remarks.

Anyhow, we saw embarrasingly dressed girls, including one with shorts that revealed things I'm pretty sure I should have only seen if I were married to her. Then we left, and Southern Belle was kind enough to drive me home even though I live on the other side of town from her just because I'd rather be safe than stupid.

Mostly, I oohed and aahed at the lightning and we listened to a very good CD by this guy. His name isn't Joshua Jackson, because that's Pacey from Dawson's Creek, and it was definitely not Pacey singing, but the name is something like that. It has a Joshua in it. Or a Jackson. Or something like that.
I also realized I have a hard time carrying a tune when I'm tipsy. Which is a good mental note for the next time I sing karaoke.

Anyhow, not-Pacey is cool. You should check him out.

There's really nothing more exciting to report. Hmmm ... sorry about that. I got tipsy and all you got was this lousy posting.

Not such a small state when you're biking

When I decided to go up to Providence, RI, to visit a friend of mine for the Fourth of July, she suggested we could bike to the nearby town of Bristol to see the nation's oldest July Fourth parade. She figured it was about 12 miles one way. I figured I could handle that, although I warned her that I wasn't in very good shape and would probably be pretty slow, seeing as how I hadn't been to the gym in several months.
She said it wasn't a problem, she wouldn't be going that fast either.

She teaches aerobics, though, so I probably should have known better.

As it ends up, the bike ride was 35 miles roundtrip. I can honestly say that my rear end has never hurt so badly as it began to while I was on that bike ride. (And I once accidentally stabbed myself in the butt with a pencil.)

At a certain point in the trip, I began to spend a lot of time talking to God. Partially, I was asking for strength.

Mostly, I was seeing if there was any way God could turn my bike into a winged Pegasus.

Or a regular horse. It didn't have to have wings.
I wasn't being picky.

Sadly, it did not happen.

Eventually, small children began to pass me on their bikes. Then elderly people on bikes. Then elderly people with walkers.

I got into town half an hour after my friend and her boyfriend who, thankfully, was accompanying us and could keep her company while I panted behind. We saw the nation's oldest Fourth of July parade, which, at almost three hours long, should also be billed as the nation's longest parade.

But it gave me a nice break and there were guys dressed up like revolutionaries that fired muskets that frightened little children, and that's not something you normally see at a parade.

Strangely, the ride back didn't seem as bad. Maybe it was because I didn't feel in such a hurry. Or perhaps by that time, pain had simply become a familiar mistress.

But I survived and was not nearly as debilitated as I thought I might be the next day. And the trip was a fun one. But next time someone suggests biking somewhere that's not next door ...

I'm holding out for that Pegasus.

News of note: June 26-July 2

News of note is on hiatus this week, although the big story is Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor's unexpected resignation. And because she's a moderate, you can expect quite a battle in the nation's capital over her replacement.
Sounds like fun.
Until then, have a happy Fourth, everyone!

30 Days

If you're not watching "30 Days," a new TV show on F/X (10 p.m. ET Wednesdays, and rerun throughout the week), you need to check it out. It's made by Morgan Spurlock, who made the documentary "Supersize Me" about what would happen if he ate only McDonald's for a month. (The results were not pretty, as you might imagine.) Unlike Michael Moore and his guerrilla, gotcha-style film-making, Spurlock seems more curious than anything else. The first episode, which I regrettably missed, had he and his fiancee trying to get by on minimum wage jobs for 30 days. The second episode showed a guy who wanted to regain his youth through steroids, growth hormones and a variety of other means for 30 days. And the most recent episode had a Christian living among Muslims for 30 days, which was a great episode. By the end of it, it's not a total turnaround for the guy -- you can see he still has some prejudices -- but after getting to know some Muslims and being on the receiving end of vilification (he had to dress as a Muslim), he does come to the realization that not all Muslims are extremists and terrorists.
In a TV schedule full of things like "I Want to be a Hilton" and "Fear Factor," it's nice to see a show that actually makes people stop and think about some of society's issues.

News in a nutshell: June 19-25

Sound smart
The House on Wednesday passed a constitutional amendment to ban flag burning. The measure will move on to the Senate and, if approved, to the states for ratification. This has certainly become more prevalent lately in other countries, particularly Iraq, so it's good that we're squashing it now. Wait -- what? Our laws don't apply to other countries? They're just freely expressing themselves? Well who the hell went and gave them democracy?

The Supreme Court ruled 5-4 on Thursday that cities can use eminent domain to take people's houses if there will be an economic benefit. (Before, the general rule was that eminent domain could be used to take over property only in cases of blight or for public use, such as highways or railroads.) I don't know about anyone else, but I'd sure like to find out where the justices live, because I bet those properties would make some mighty fine shopping malls.



Boring, but important
The Pentagon is using a private company to keep a database that has personal information about millions of youth. The information includes Social Security numbers among other things, and the files are intended to help with recruiting. And I think if there's one thing the recent credit card debacle has taught us, it's that using private companies to keep sensitive data will never be problematic.



And now for some good news
The San Antonio Spurs beat the Detroit Pistons 81-74 in Game 7 of the NBA finals. OK, I guess that's not really good news if you're from Detroit. Or if you have any ties to Detroit. Or if you hate San Antonio. Or if you just don't care about the NBA in general.
GEEZ! What do you people want from me?!?


What the ...?!?
A recent scientific study finds that individual cells in your brain can recognize celebrities. I'm actually thinking of trying to make some money off of this: Celebrities must donate a certain amount of money for each cell that remembers them. The more they donate, the more brain cells they get and the better the cells remember the celeb. I think I'll call it "cerebretology."

Snapple tried to create the world's largest ice pop (Popsicle is a trademark, so I can't use it without getting sued) in New York City on Tuesday. It would have been 25-feet-tall ... had they not decided to put it up in the middle of a sunny, 80-degree day. It melted. And the streets ran red with kiwi-strawberry juice.

I swear, I'm not making this up: A Russian woman has sued NASA over its plan to launch a probe into a comet on July 4. She wants to stop the probe and -- surprise, surprise -- is asking for $311 million in "moral" damages. The woman says the mission could disrupt mystical forces and create an open season on celestial objects. Fortunately, comet hunting season is only two weeks long and requires a permit. But danged if those things aren't hard to take down.

Selling out to the Dark Side

Is anyone else a little unnerved by how many products Darth Vader seems to be promoting lately? I've seen him in the Burger King commercials and on cookie packages and other things like that. But I finally got fed up when I saw Darth Vader on a box of Cheez-Its the other day. Cheez-Its?!? I'm sorry, but Darth Vader does NOT eat Cheez-Its. I don't think he even eats. He's supposed to be one of the great movie villains of all time and now he's schilling products left and right. It's enough to make James Earl Jones scream (in a really corny way): "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!"

They say that evil doesn't pay, but clearly, they're not taking into account endorsement deals.

News in a nutshell: June 12-18

Sound smart
The media orgy known as the Michael Jackson trial ended Monday when the singer was acquitted of molestation and other related charges against him. The media began to come down from its binge of postulations, sensationalism and inane analysis, and they began to panic: What now? What could possibly fill this void left in our 24-hour news cycles? Surely, there must be another star they could focus on, another circus to create...

Those prayers were answered Friday when Tom Cruise asked Katie Holmes to marry him atop the Eiffel Tower in France. And the media beast calmed -- its ravenous hunger for celebrity gossip sated yet again.


Hackers stole the numbers of as many as 40 million credit cards. MasterCard was the first to announce the breach, saying about 14 million of its cards were exposed, though it later said that only 68,000 card holders were at "higher levels of risk." There are some things money can't buy ... apparently, a secure network is one of them.


Boring, but important
On Wednesday, the House of Representatives voted to limit part of the USA Patriot Act (which, if you want the world's most labored acronym, stands for Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism). The House voted to curb the agency's ability to see what books a person has checked out from the library or bought from a bookstore. No doubt most of those "nay" votes come from politicians who don't want anyone to know they're reading "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants."


And now for some good news
Paris Hilton told Newsweek she's planning to retire from public life in two years. I have no idea what this means, seeing as how she doesn't do anything now, but I can only hope that it's true. And if she could please take Britney Spears with her, that would be wonderful.

What the ...?!?
According to a recent study, gum is the No. 1 snack in America, far ahead of chocolate and fresh fruit, which occupy the No. 2 and 3 spots, respectively. But gum manufacturers are not content and are working on new types of gum as we speak, including chocolate-flavored gum; gum with caffeine, vitamins or Viagara (seriously); and even religious-minded gum in the shape of a Christian fish symbol with a Bible verse inside the tin. No doubt also on the list: Communion gum. "And as he opened the pack and offered it to the disciples, Jesus said, 'Chew this, in remembrance of me.' " Just be sure not to get that mixed up with the Viagara gum.

Boston and Boulder, Colo., are the two top cities for marijuana use, according to the government. Apparently, college students are more likely to smoke weed. This study was brought to you by the National Obvious Department for Useless Hogwash, or NODUH.

News in a nutshell: 6/5-6/11

Sound smart
A task force made several recommendations about how to improve elections. Proposed changes include extending the voting period over several weeks, sharing voter registration information between states and using vote centers rather than local precincts. Also it would help to not always have to choose between -- in the words of "South Park" -- a douche bag and a giant turd.

A detailed survey of the United States' mental health found that the country is poised to rank No. 1 for mental illness in the world. We're No. 1! We're No. 1! And with our multiple personalities, we're also Nos. 2-9. Go us!

A group of dolphins off the coast of Australia were discovered to be using sea sponges as tools while searching for food. They also use them as clown noses to make each other laugh.


Boring, but important
The Supreme Court ruled Monday that terminally ill patients who use medicinal marijuana can be prosecuted for violating federal drug laws, regardless of whether a state law allows it. (Insert own pun here involving "gone to pot," "High Court" or "joint decision." Or just go grab something to satisfy those munchies.)


And now for some good news
On Sunday night, "Doubt" won best play at the 2005 Tonys. "Monty Python's Spamalot" won best musical. And ... I'm sorry, this really should have gone under "Boring, but important."

What the ...?!?
New Jersey police were surprised to find that the head of a prostitution ring was allegedly an 80-year-old woman. She admitted that she ran the business from her two-bedroom apartment and said she needed money to subsidize her Social Security checks. Seriously. I'm not making that up.

A University of California graduate student built a three-wheeled cart that can be driven by a cockroach. Because what cockroaches really need are vehicles. Gee, maybe we could give them armored vehicles with weapons systems next. Thanks for nothing, science.

Kids these days and their new-fangled roller coasters

I went to Busch Gardens in Williamsburg, Va., yesterday and came upon a disturbing discovery:

I can't really handle roller coasters anymore.

I first noticed it last year, when I would be a little wobbly after each time I rode a ride. But it was even worse this year. I love roller coasters, but they seem to totally throw my body out of whack now.

One of the people I was with yesterday said that he was a little wobbly getting off the rides too, which had never happened to him before. I told him I was that way last year and it was only going to get worse.

He mentioned that he was that way with swings as well. He used to be able to swing as high as he wanted and jump off. But no more. I'm the same way. Going too high in a swing is actually unnerving now. It's terribly sad.

I feel like I'm a few steps shy of writing cranky letters to the editor, being able to predict the weather based on how my knee feels and telling kids what things were like "in my day."

The case of the disappearing oil

Yes, believe it or not, I'm still trying to post things other than the news in a nutshell. I just haven't been too good about that lately. Sorry.

Anyhow, I went to get my oil changed last week and the mechanic looked at it and said, "There's nothing in here."

"Excuse me?" I said, somewhat incredulously.

"It's empty. You've got no oil." And he showed me. Sure enough, no oil.

This was vexing for several reasons, not the least of which was the possibility of my engine seizing up and my bank account emptying out. I had just checked the oil about two weeks ago and it was fine.

I hadn't noticed any leaks. I park in the same spot in front of my apartment building everyday, and I later confirmed that there was not, in fact, any oil leaking. This leaves the option that the car is burning oil. But it seemed like I would notice it burning that much oil, as well, what with all the smoke and rank smell that would accompany it.

So I took it to the local Saturn dealership to see what was the matter. I've not been impressed with them in the past, but they were nearby, so I figured what the heck.

After about two hours, I was reminded why I don't like them.
Their solution: They put some more oil in it and said to come back in 500 miles and they could see if it was leaking or anything.

Like I couldn't have done that myself.

That was last Wednesday. I checked the oil level again today and it's fine. Totally fine.

There are some people who will tell you that a car is a lot like a woman -- treat them well and take care of them, and they'll do the same for you. But there's another similarity:

I don't understand either one of them.

News in a nutshell: 5/29-6/4

Sound smart
Of course, the biggest news of the week was the discovery of the identity of Deep Throat: Linda Lovelace.
Oops, sorry, I was looking at the wrong Web site ...
Ahem. The secret source that helped Washington Post reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein uncover the Watergate scandal was revealed to be former FBI official W. Mark Felt. The icon was outed by his family in a Vanity Fair article basically because Felt's family members wanted to cash in on their father's identity. The revelation met with mixed reactions, including those who called Felt a traitor and a "snake." Because surely the last thing we want in our society are people who will tell the truth about corruption in the government.

Speaking of people trying to make money off their family members, a book was published last week by three siblings who say DNA tests have confirmed they are the out-of-wedlock children of American aviator Charles Lindbergh. (Bastards.) They also say Lindbergh had two children with their mother's sister and two children with his German secretary. That's seven illegitimate kids, for those of you keeping score at home. Meanwhile, Ben Franklin's descendants laughed and said of Lindbergh: "Amateur."

The French and Dutch rejected the European Union's constitution, which must be approved by all 25 member nations. The constitution was designed to create more cohesion in the EU, but critics in France said it would open up the country to the influence of less powerful countries. The French then thumbed their noses at the EU and said, "Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries."

On Thursday, Jennifer Wilbanks, aka the "Runaway Bride," pleaded no contest to faking her abduction and was fined $2,550 (on top of the $13,250 she has already paid) and sentenced to 120 hours of community service and two years of probation. She must also continue her mental health treatment. The judge also ordered her to sit through every made-for-TV-movie that her escapade will inspire, though her attorneys have appealed this, calling it cruel and unusual.

On June 15, airlines will have to start reporting how many pets are killed, lost or hurt on their flights. It's estimated that 2 million animals fly every year, though that number goes up significantly once they start serving alcohol.


Boring, but important
On Thursday, President Bush nominated Republican Rep. Christopher Cox to head the Securities and Exchange Commission. The SEC is in charge of protecting investors and maintaining the integrity of the securities market and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....


And now for some good news
Danica Patrick finished fourth in the Indy 500 on Sunday, the highest a woman has ever finished the race. I think some guy won the thing, but nobody was really watching him.

Danielle Fisher, 20, reached the top of Mount Everest last week and became the youngest person to climb the highest peaks on every continent. Unfortunately, it's pretty much all downhill for her from here.

On Monday, Miss Canada was crowned the new Miss Universe. No hyperbole there ...

On Thursday, eighth-grader Anurag Kashyap became the U.S. spelling champ after correctly spelling "appoggiatura." Upon winning, Anurag said he felt "just pure happiness. H-A-P-P-I-N-E-S-S. Happiness."

What the ...?!?
The chicken that crossed the road just to get a ticket had its $54 citation dismissed by a judge. The defense attorney argued that the chicken was domesticated and the law prohibits only livestock on highways. So ... apparently the chicken is a pet now? As if the whole thing weren't weird enough. (I'd like to point out that I refrained from making any "fowl" puns.)

A University of Virginia study has found that popular teenagers are more likely to drink, smoke marijuana, shoplift and vandalize property than their less-popular peers. This finally proves that, yes, all the cool kids really are doing it.

Subway announced Thursday that it's ending its Sub Club promotion -- where customers get a stamp for every 6-inch sub they buy and get a free sub after eight stamps on their card. Apparently, counterfeiters were making copies of the stamps and cards and selling them online. Seriously? These people have all this counterfeiting knowledge and they're using it to get free SANDWICHES?!?! Way to aim high, guys. What's next? Counterfeit library cards?

In Russia, a 48-foot-deep lake simply disappeared over a few hours. Officials believe it was sucked into a subterranean cavern and later flowed into a nearby river. The local villagers kept telling their kids not to pull on the giant plug at the bottom of the lake, but noooo ... they just had to see what would happen.

And finally, rich and famous heiress Paris Hilton got engaged to a rich and famous heir also named Paris (Latsis). This should be an interesting test of whether you can base a marriage on narcissism.

News in a nutshell

Sound smart
Scientists have discovered how the brain detects sarcasm. Like anyone cares. (Yes, that was sarcasm for any of you with damage to the right frontal lobe. And yes, this will be a theme for this week's brief wrap-up.)


Boring, but important
On Monday night, a bipartisan group of 14 senators reached an agreement to avoid a vote on banning filibusters against judicial nominees. The agreement cleared the way for some of President Bush's nominees to be approved and stipulated that Democrats would only use filibusters in "extreme circumstances," though it left it up to each party to decide what that means. So I'm sure the arguing in the Senate is over.

On Thursday, the Senate delayed a vote on whether to confirm John Bolton as U.N. ambassador until at least next month, calling him a "no-talent, ass clown." Oh wait, that's the other Bolton. Never mind.


And now for some good news
Carrie Underwood won the latest "American Idol." I don't really care, but it's good news for her. And as long as she doesn't pair up with any other "Idol" stars to make a movie, I figure it can't be too bad for the rest of us.


What the ...?!?
A woman in a California park restroom gave her attacker the slip because she had put on so much sunscreen he couldn't grab hold of her. Sunscreen companies quickly began promoting their products as a deterrent against skin cancer and assault.

A 56-hour standoff in Atlanta ended early Saturday after a man accused of killing his ex-girlfriend in Florida reached for a drink of water offered by police, who got close enough to zap him with a stun gun. The standoff began when he climbed an 18-story-high crane Wednesday and threatened to jump, prompting one of the officers to say (I kid you not): "When he's ready to come down, he'll come down -- one way or the other."

It was discovered that 14 states had been providing nearly 800 convicted sex offenders with Viagara and other impotence drugs paid for through Medicaid. Next on the list of state initiatives: Free drinks for everyone at AA meetings! Yay!!!!

Speaking of such things, reports indicate there may be a link between the use of impotence drugs and blindness. Meanwhile, numerous mothers and nuns issued a public "I told you so."

The week in a nutshell

I'm looking for a good title for this thing -- any suggestions?

Impress your friends
Alcoholics everywhere rejoiced Monday when the Supreme Court ruled that state laws restricting the shipment of wine from out-of-state businesses are unconstitutional. This also means that not all of us will have to leave home and go on some crazy journey like those guys in "Sideways" just to get sloshed.

Newsweek did a bad, bad thing, relying on one anonymous source for a story saying that U.S. interrogators at Guantanamo Bay had flushed the Quran down a toilet to get prisoners to talk. On Monday, the magazine retracted the article, which has been blamed for causing Muslim protests and violence that left 15 people dead and many more injured. The White House immediately began berating Newsweek and the media in general for creating problems between the United States and the Muslim world.
Because clearly things had been going soooo smoothly up until the Newsweek article...

Frank Gorshin, best known as the Riddler on the "Batman" TV series in the '60s (and in perennial reruns after that) died Tuesday at age 72. May he Riddle in Peace.

In other obituary news, Henry Corden, the voice of Fred Flintstone, also died last week. He was 85.

The Sun in London and the New York Post on Friday and Saturday published pictures of Saddam Hussein in his underwear in his cell in Iraq. The pictures caused an uproar over whether they violate the Geneva Conventions (one aspect of which requires protecting prisoners of war from "public curiosity"), but on the bright side they eliminated one more place that Saddam might be hiding those supposed weapons of mass destruction.

Just, like, a week after scientists were saying that the discovery of the rock rat could very well be the last discovery of a new mammal species, they announce that they've found a new kind of monkey. I think they're just holding out on us. By the end of the month, we're going to find out that unicorns are real.


Boring, but you should know about it
The government is looking to put defensive, and possibly offensive, weapons into space. No word on when they'll start replacing the moon with a Death Star.

Scientists are also working on creating the world's most powerful laser, which would generate the heat of the sun. And you thought I was just joking in the previous item.

A South Korean says that he again cloned human embryos, creating stem cells tailored to an individual. You're probably either very supportive of this kind of research and its possible benfits or staunchly opposed to it for moral reasons, so ... umm ... I'm just going to quietly slip into the next item...


It wasn't all bad
Los Angeles residents on Tuesday elected the city's first Hispanic mayor -- Antonio Villaraigosa -- in 133 years. Let the name mispronunciation begin...

Afleet Alex stumbled to his knees after being cut off by another horse but recovered to win the Preakness Stakes on Saturday, proving you can't keep a good horse down.

The force is strong with this one: "Star Wars: Episode III -- Revenge of the Sith" made more than $50 million when it opened Thursday, breaking box office records for a single day.

Britney Spears' new "reality" TV show debuted Tuesday to a paltry 3.4 million viewers, finishing last in its time slot and giving me hope for humanity.


What the ...?!?
A kid in Indiana crawled into one of those toy vending machines with the crane. His parents tried to get him out, but the crane kept bumping into the glass and dropping him before they could get him over the hole. Eventually, they ran out of quarters.

5k -- OK!

I ran a 5k this morning. I signed up for it a few weeks ago because it was sponsored by my work and because I thought it would be a good impetus to run a little and get in shape.

Number of days to prepare: About 21
Number of days I actually ran: 0

But I figured if Christa can run a marathon on an exercise regimen of cigarette smoking and binge drinking, surely I could manage a mere five kilometers after just a few months of not going to the gym. (The cheaper one I want to go to doesn't open until next month.)

It didn't help that the race was at 8:30 in the morning and I had to leave about an hour before the race to get out there, find a parking spot, get signed in, etc. So I had to wake up at 6:45 a.m. after working until 1 a.m.

I'm glad to say I finished in a somewhat respectable 37 minutes. I walked more than I cared to, but I admittedly wasn't really pushing myself either. BUT the important things are:
1) It was along the oceanfront, which was quite nice.
2) I did not make a fool of myself in front of my co-workers by falling, puking or crawling at any point during the race.

Of course, now I can't really walk without limping, but I can think of worse ways to spend a Saturday morning.

I scream, you scream, we all scream, "HAIL!"

The big news in the geek world, where I often reside, is the unveiling of the next-gen consoles from Sony and Nintendo (following the earlier announcements about the Xbox 360, which I already wrote about). You can see my friends' take on the systems at Gig Matrix, along with my review of the movie "Unleashed." (Yes, I'm still cross-promoting. Get used to it.)

Oh, and if you haven't already heard, Fox is going to renew "Arrested Development." Praise the TV gods!

In anecdotal news, I was at work on Sunday and had a craving for ice cream, so I decided to make a DQ run. So I headed out under what had become cloudy skies. Shortly after leaving DQ, I began to see lightning. I saw a few drops appear on my windshield and began to close the sunroof. As soon as it closed ... WHOOSH! The rain began pouring from the heavens in a manner that made me consider building an ark. And then came the quarter-sized hail. It soon looked like it had snowed outside and I was seriously afraid for my car with all this ice loudly bouncing off it. (The hail actually broke a window of a car in the office parking lot, but everyone else's cars seemed OK.) And apparently, small ponds form quickly in the low-lying area in which I now live. Not fun. But I finally made it back to the parking lot and dashed inside, becoming a drowned, ice-pelted rat in the process.

Just imagine what I would do (oo-ooo) for a Klondike bar...

On the coincidental side, I had been thoroughly cleaning my desk at work earlier in the evening and felt kind of yucky afterward. I thought, "Gee, I sure wish I could take a quick shower."

Apparently, I need to watch what I wish for.

What you missed this week

I'm going to try something new, and we'll see if anyone likes it and if it sticks. (This could also be, in Christa's words, a ploy to get more hits on my site. Jealous yet, C.L.?)


Impress your friends
On Wednesday, a small plane caused pandemonium in Washington, D.C., and was almost shot down after it wandered deep into restricted airspace. People ran for cover, the first lady and other high-ranking officials were swept away to secure locations, and the president was left to his bike riding, undisturbed.

President Bush visited Russia on Monday to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the Allied victory over the Nazis. It was also intended to smooth over some ruffled feathers that had been caused by Bush's recent remarks while visiting former Soviet republics. There was no hand-holding, but there were flowers . Perhaps the new diplomatic strategy is flirting?

Pope Benedict XVI put John Paul II on the fast track to beatification. Vatican officials are hoping to soon put up the sign: "Over 1 billion sainted"


Boring, but you should know about it
On Wednesday, Republican Sen. George Voinovich said of the controversial John Bolton, President Bush's nominee for U.N. ambassador: "This is not behavior that should be endorsed as the face of the United States to the world community at the United Nations. It is my opinion that John Bolton is the poster child of what someone in the diplomatic corps should not be." Voinovich, a member of the Senate's Foreign Relations Committee, then did the next logical thing: He gave the go-ahead vote to advance Bolton's nomination to the Senate, where he will most likely be approved along party lines.

On Friday, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld released his recommendations for military base closings and realignments. If you live in a military town, check your local listings. If you don't, you probably don't much care.


It wasn't all bad
Giacomo, a 50-1 long shot, won the Kentucky Derby last Saturday. Left eating Giacomo's dust but secure knowing they had much cooler names: Closing Argument, Don't Get Mad, Buzzards Bay, Andromeda's Hero and Going Wild.

On Wednesday, scientists announced the discovery a new family of mammals -- the rock rat. Because what the world really needs is more rodents.

On Thursday, Xbox, in conjunction with MTV, unveiled its next-gen console -- the Xbox 360. Geeks everywhere, already salivating in anticipation of the final "Star Wars" movie, spontaneously combust from the excitement.

Powerball officials had suspected fraud in the March 30 drawing, when 110 people correctly picked five of six numbers (usually only four or five people get that many numbers right), but finally got to the bottom of the mystery. The lucky numbers came from fortune cookies. This also helped explain the fortune a lottery official had gotten earlier: "You will be glad we didn't get all six numbers right."


What the ...?!?
The paintings of renowned artist Congo will be auctioned at a London auction house next month and are expected to sell for $1,130 to $1,500. Never heard of Congo? Maybe that's because he's a chimpanzee.

A California deputy issued a jaywalking ticket for a chicken that did what chickens do -- cross the road.

Proving that Lassie's legacy lives, an abandoned baby in Kenya was believed to have been saved by a stray dog last week and was discovered Monday.

Renee Zellweger and Kenny Chesney tied the knot Monday. Apparently, she thinks his tractor's sexy.

Pepsi has said it will stop making its low-calorie, 50-percent-less-sugar soda Pepsi Edge. Oh, Edge, we barely had ever heard of ye...

The finger that a woman claimed to have found in her Wendy's chili is believed to belong to a friend of the woman's husband. He apparently lost it in an industrial accident and then gave it to the woman's husband. Yeah, that's right. He gave him the finger.

And Tiger Woods missed the cut at a golf tournament Friday for the first time in seven years and 142 tournaments. Truly, the end of times must be near.

Oh, the hyperbole!

Aaron has already written about this on Gig Matrix, but I'm throwing in my two cents. If you watched MTV on Thursday night, you saw the unveiling of the next-gen Xbox console -- the Xbox 360.

The show was mostly hype, hyperbole and hotties. If I'm to understand what was said, the Xbox 360 will be totally wireless (no cords -- woohoo!), involve a lot more online features (including a lot of customization for sale) and solve the problem of world hunger. And the graphics are, of course, gorgeous.

But I'm with Aaron. I just don't know if I'm ready to give up my first-gen Xbox yet. Granted, the Xbox 360 isn't coming out until the end of the year, but how many games will come out with it? Probably not many. And the fact that they're rushing to be the first one in to the market of next-gen consoles worries me. (Anyone other early adapters still live in fear of the "Dirty Disc" error?) I figure I can hold off for a while, but sooner or later, they're gonna stop making games for the Xbox and then I'll have to make the switch.

But for now, I've got a backlog of great games to play.

Building a better birdcage bottom

We're looking at tinkering some things at my newspaper and, as these discussions always do, the goal of attracting younger readers (particularly the much lauded 18-34 demographic) is playing a large role.

I know there are some of you who read newspapers -- many because you're in the business -- and there are many that don't. So today I'm posing a few question, mostly just for the benefit of my curiosity:

1) If you don't read a paper, is there anything that newspapers could do that would get you to pick one up? (If there's not, tell me that, too.)

2) If you do read a paper, what do you like or dislike? What would you like to see more/less of? What do you find most useful?

3) Magazines are often ahead of the curve on a lot of things, and I think a fair amount of younger people do read magazines on a regular basis, even if they don't pick up a paper. What do you like about the magazines you read? Is it just that it's a niche that you have an interest in, or are there particular features that you like? (Give magazine names, please.)

So if you've got some time, please post your comments -- any and all ideas are welcome -- and tell your friends to post, too. The more the merrier, as they say.

And thanks for the input. :-)

You say "to-may-to," I say "partisan politics"

Weirdest story of the day: Whether a tomato is a fruit or a vegetable has become quite a source of contention in New Jersey and -- surprise, surprise in this day and age -- the issue splits down political party lines.

It seems that Republicans and independents in New Jersey think the tomato is a fruit, and Democrats think it's a vegetable.

The confusion comes because, botanically, it's a fruit. But legally, it's a vegetable, as ruled by the Supreme Court a long time ago when, apparently, they didn't have a lot of other cases on the docket. (It had to do with tariffs.) No doubt this will lead to even more claims of activist judges.

At any rate, you can read the whole story here.

Here's to your health

So a little while ago, the Department of Agriculture finally released its updated food pyramid. For all the conservatives out there who have long claimed that homosexuals are trying to force their agenda into mainstream society, it seems that they've begun with the food pyramid.

It's no longer so much a pyramid as a multicolored triangle with a guy running up the side of it. An icon based on colors? Really?? Didn't we learn anything from the color-coded terrorism alert?

I guess not.

As totally unhelpful as the new gay-pride pyramid is, the Ag Department has also launched a Web site, www.mypyramid.gov, which actually IS rather useful. You can personalize it, to a degree, and it will tell you how much of each food group you should be eating based on your age, gender and activity level. Even better, though, is the My Pyramid Tracker section, for which you can register for free. It lets you input and track, pretty specifically, what food you eat in a day, what activities you do and how that all pans out with what you should be doing. It takes a bit of work, especially when you first set it up, but if you're interested in keeping track of what you eat and changing overall eating habits, I think it's well worth it.

Today, for instance, I was surprised to find I did alright with the veggies (yeah for ketchup, I guess) and good with the grain and fruit, but crappy with the milk and meat and beans. I can tell all of this through easy to read emoticons. It also breaks down how you did with cholesterol, sodium, saturated fat, etc.

So if you want a little push to eat better or just want to know what you're missing in your diet, check it out.

It's no finger in my chili, but ...

I was snacking on some double-stuffed E.L. Fudge cookies during dinner at work tonight, when all of the sudden, I looked down and realized that there was a hunk of plastic lodged in the chocolate stuffing.
Huh, I thought, glad I didn't bite from the other end first.

I wondered if I could sue the Keebler elves.

But then I started thinking about, what if I won? What if I got a huge settlement and it bankrupted the elves? They would be forced to close down the tree with the magical oven. I can see them now -- little elves with little knapsacks slung over their backs as they close down the tree for good and go their separate ways. Probably shedding elf-sized tears.

Too sad.
I couldn't do that to Ernie and the cookie crew. So I threw the cookie away.

It was just as well. I noticed when I got home that the plastic tray the cookies came in had a piece missing, so it must have broken at some point and gotten lodged in the cookie post-elf participation.

But if I ever find anything in my Cocoa Krispies, I am sooo taking down Snap, Crackle and Pop.

Waxing nostalgic

I saw "Fever Pitch" earlier today (or yesterday by the time everyone reads this). It was pretty good. A few strange moments -- either surprising seriousness or out-of-place humor where the Farrelly brothers fall into old habits -- but otherwise very cute and funny. Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore may just be the most adorable on-screen couple ever. And of course, it was about the greatest comeback in baseball playoff history (Red Sox vs. Yankees last year, for those of you who may not know what I'm talking about). And while I was immensely pleased that the Red Sox were able to break the curse of the Bambino, it got me thinking of other sports highlights that I've witnessed. (Incidentally, if you have too short of an attention span, there's an interactive portion of the blog at the end of the post.)

It was June 2001 -- the Stanley Cup finals. The Colorado Avalanche vs. the New Jersey Devils. It was already historic because it was the first time in more than a decade that the No. 1 seed from the East would face the No. 1 seed from the West in the finals. This was back in the glory days (at least as I remember them) of the Avalanche -- Joe Sakic; Peter Forsberg; the greatest goalie of all time, Patrick Roy; and so many other greats. It was destined to be an amazing matchup. But for us Avalanche fans it was about more than winning a second Stanley Cup. We were rooting for a man named Ray Bourque. In his 22-year NHL career, he had won numerous accolades, but one had always escaped him -- the Stanley Cup. So he had joined the Avs from the Boston Bruins because he thought it would give him a better shot at winning the Cup before he retired. Colorado was rooting for him, Boston was rooting for him. We wanted the Cup, but we wanted it for him.

And so the series began ... and it was epic. Game 1 went to Colorado in a rousing victory. Game 2 went to New Jersey. And back and forth it went. By the time we got to Game 6, it was nerve-wracking -- the Devils led the series 3-2. They only needed one more game to win and Game 6 was in New Jersey. But miraculously, the Avs pulled it out and the battle went to Game 7 ... at home in Colorado. It was just the third time in 30 seasons that the finals had gone to seven games.

During all this, I was at the University of North Carolina at internship training. But I and several of the other guys there would go out and watch the games or watch on the TV in the lounge of the dorm where we were all staying. As Game 7 went on, I was glued to the TV. I lived and died with every shot taken, every shot missed, every goal scored.

And in the end, Colorado won, 3-1. It was magical. I cheered in excitement. But then came "the moment" -- when the players handed the Stanley Cup to Ray Bourque and he lifted it above his head, his lifelong dream finally accomplished. It's the moment that still makes me a little teary-eyed to think about.

I have a friend who was actually at the game and he said he's never experienced anything like it. The place just exploded in celebration -- everyone cheering, grown men crying because they were so happy, strangers hugging one another.

And I guess that's what moves me the most about many of these sports victories. In a world where there are so many things to divide people, where more often than not people don't give each other the time of day, where strangers won't even make eye contact with each other, much less smile -- every once and awhile, you come across a moment when those differences don't matter, when no one is a stranger. Everyone is united in their love of a team and the common cause of celebrating its victory.

And for a moment -- just a moment -- you see how amazing human beings can be to one another.

And then the rioting usually starts.

And of course, because sports competitions are a zero-sum game, whenever there's a winner, there's a loser. And I can't help but feel for them, too, because I've also been there.

Nov. 8, 1997 -- my freshman year at the University of Missouri. I'm at the MU-Nebraska football game with my roommate. We've got seats close to one of the end zones and not far from the field. Although the rivalry with Nebraska is second only to the one with Kansas, no one really expects Missouri to win the game. Nebraska was undefeated for the season, hadn't lost a Big 12 game during the regular season in almost five years and had won the last 18 times they had played Missouri. The stats were not in MU's favor.

But lo and behold, the Tigers began beating the Cornhuskers. By the time the game was almost over, MU led 38-31 with just more than a minute left to play. The air was electric. People were crowding around, ready to rush the field and tear down the goal posts. We could taste victory -- and one of the greatest upsets ever. And we were there to see it firsthand.

And then it happened. Right in front of me.

Nebraska had flown down the field -- 67 yards in 62 seconds. Then, on third down with seven seconds left until sweet, sweet victory was ours ... one of the most freak "accidents" in college football history occurred. The Nebraska quarterback threw the ball into the end zone, but the receiver couldn't get to it. But as he fell, he kicked it and it landed in the arms of a diving Nebraska player.

Touchdown.

As you may know, it's illegal to purposefully kick a ball in a football game and doing so can result in a 15-yard penalty. But it was ruled accidental, a claim that remains somewhat dubious, particularly for Mizzou grads. But it was what it was. And after Nebraska scored the extra point, the game was tied and went into overtime.

But by then, we knew it was over. The momentum had shifted. The stadium, once raucous, was nearly silent. No one could believe what had happened. The football gods had taunted us, waving the possibility of an amazing upset before us, only to snatch it away at the last possible second as we reached out to see if it could possibly be real.

Nebraska won, 45-38.

You've never seen an entire stadium full of people file out and disperse into the streets as quietly as we did that day. It was heartbreaking.

And so, my dear friends, if you've read this entire lengthy trip down sports memory lane (or just skipped to the end), I conclude by asking you to share your top sports moments -- the wins and the losses. So go ahead, what's your most memorable game?

Going phishing

Sorry I've been bad about posting on the blog lately. I'm in the middle of getting myself organized (sort of a spring cleaning, I guess). I'm finally unpacked and have pictures hung and that sort of thing and now I'm working on cleaning up and organizing files, papers, e-mail boxes, etc. So bear with me for a bit, but I promise to get back into the groove soon.

In the meantime, follow this link to an interesting Washington Post piece on phishing scams. Phishing, if you don't know, is when someone sends you a fake e-mail to get you to reveal personal information that they can then take advantage of (credit card numbers, bank accounts, social security number, etc.). Identity theft is becoming a lot more common, so I'm sure you've gotten some. But take the quiz and see if you can tell the real e-mails from the fake ones. The answers will also give you a better idea of what to look for when you get an e-mail like that.
Best rule of thumb: Always be skeptical.

I feel like a VIP

For some reason, all the employees at my work (and I think a local radio station) were offered a free, advanced screening of the movie "Kung Fu Hustle" tonight and an advanced screening of "Unleashed" (the movie with Jet Li by the guy who wrote and produced "The Professional") in a few weeks.
Fortuitously, I had the night off this week, so I went. It was a fun movie. Very "Matrix" meets "Kung Fu" meets "Spaceballs."

Yeah, it's a weird combo; I know.

At any rate, you can read my full review on Gig Matrix.

Finances, feuds and fatties

If you're like me and don't know a lot about investing or financial things in general but want to learn, a new TV show called "MoneyTrack" is supposed to be an informative look at finances for average Joe's. Read more here, but it's on public television (the Web site hasn't been updated to say where it will show yet, though) and includes segments on "Becoming an Educated Investor," "Couples and Money," "Financial Survival Kit" and "Technology."

As proof that life imitates art, two families in Florida escalated their feud into a shootout after the son from one family and the daughter from the other began dating. Read the whole Shakespearean tale here.

But the most disturbing news of all as of late: Cookie Monster is cutting back on the cookies. (Thanks to Tosser for the heads-up.) Read the article, but basically it comes down to wanting to portray a healthier image. I can understand, and applaud, Sesame Street's efforts to encourage children to eat healthier, but it just feels wrong. It would be like if Ernie gave up rubber duckies. Also, the Cookie Monster's name was Sid?!?! What the ... ?!

I have to admit, the more darkly humorous side of me thinks it would be more effective to have Cookie Monster continue to binge on cookies and become morbidly obese. He could show children what it's like to not be able to lift himself off the couch, to have to catch his breath all the time, how he can't play with the other puppets.
And then, eventually, he would have a coronary and die.
Traumatic for the kids? Sure.

But I bet they lay off the cookies after that.

Very random thoughts

Sorry that it's been a week since I've posted anything, but here are some very unconnected thoughts:

1) I've discovered that the Italian word for someone with papal potential is "papabili."
What a cool word. I totally plan on using it more often now.

2) Speaking for things I'm adding to my lexicon, I've been trying to add two Southern expressions I've learned since moving here: "Law bless" and so-and-so "would've liked to have died." The former means "oh my goodness" and the latter means someone couldn't believe it.
At least I think. It's all a little confusing.

3) If you want to see something that will totally blow your mind, check out this Honda commercial. It's been around for a while, but I'm just now getting around to mentioning it. It took 606 tries to get it right. And it's awesome.

4) I was in D.C. for half a day last week (I apologize to the many of you in the area I didn't tell or see, but I promise that I will be up there often and will see you soon.) and saw this just outside the Jefferson Memorial:

I thought it was an interesting juxtaposition with this, just in front of the steps leading up to the memorial ...

Yes, those are large, puppet dogs playing rock 'n' roll.

But I'm sure when they were singing "Who Let the Dogs Out," the dawgs they were referring to were the Founding Fathers.

Spring forward to a flashback

Lest you forget, turn your clocks ahead one hour at 2 a.m. Sunday morning....

As far as the flashback rodent story, during college I lived in a duplex. One semester, a friend of mine decided to sublet from one of my roommates because he was in France. She brought with her a pet hamster that she would let run around in her room at night. It wasn't a problem because the door was closed and he would always go back to his cage in the morning.

That is, until one morning when she woke up and he wasn't there. We searched and found no sign of him. She left out food, and we hoped that he would eventually find his way back. It should be noted that she lived in one of the upstairs bedrooms, while I lived in the downstairs one. A few nights later, I heard an eerie scratching in my room. I finally realized where it was coming from: inside my closet wall.

The next morning:
Me: "Anne Marie, I think I found your hamster."
AM: "GREAT! Where is he?"
Me: "In the wall of my closet."
AM: (spit take) "WHAAAA??!?!?!"

We finally deduced that the hamster had crawled into Anne Marie's walk-in closet, which connects to the crawl space and he had been stupid enough to fall/crawl into one of the holes in the floor and had fallen down an entire story (which, for a hamster, must be like falling off a 20-story building) and managed to land, alive, in the area of the wall in my closet.

Anne Marie, Reuben and I dropped some food down the hole and tried to think of ways to get him out. We made a little makeshift ladder, but it wasn't long enough. We tried leaving string down, hoping maybe he had turned into a commando hamster of some kind who could shinny his way up it. We would have built a little hamster escalator if we knew how.
But we were stuck.

Finally, with heavy hearts, we decided there was nothing we could do. He was on his own and would probably die down there.

A couple of nights after that, we were having dinner with a couple of friends and relayed the story of the trapped hamster and what we had decided. One of our friends, in his thick Southern drawl, exclaimed loudly:

"LORD ALMIGHTY!! THAT THING'S GONNA REEK WHEN IT DIES!!!!
YOU GOTTA GET IT OUTTA THERE!!"

Anne Marie and I looked at each other.
The smell. We hadn't even thought to consider how bad a smell it might make; it was just a little hamster after all.

But he was right.
We had to get it out.

I immediately left the table and grabbed a hammer and a screwdriver. I knocked on the wall several times trying to figure out where the hamster was so as not to impale the very creature I was trying to save. Like POWs, I rapped, he scratched and we managed to communicate. I used the hammer and screwdriver to create a small, rectangular opening low in the closet wall. After I had done this, we grabbed some thick gloves so the little rodent wouldn't bite anyone. You would think the hamster would be happy to see his saviors and the light of day, but no. It took a lot of coaxing and some food to finally get him where we could grab him and bring him to safety.

Not since Baby Jessica was removed from the well had there been so much rejoicing.

The next day, I bought a flat wall panel and glued it to the wall over the hole. It blended in perfectly. I doubt anyone has ever thought twice about it.

I'm happy to say that the hamster spent the rest of its days with a bit of celebrity, being the wonder hamster who had miraculously cheated death.

Well, until Christmas break when he died of natural causes.
He was buried in a shallow grave behind the duplex and now probably haunts the residents of 1811 Juniper Circle who keep wondering why, late at night, they hear scratching in the walls.

Life's other certainty

Geez, I make a reference yesterday to discussing death and then today Terri Schiavo dies and the pope comes awfully close.
I considered discussing what has become the Schiavo debacle, but with so many other pundits and people who have never seen/met her weighing in on the situation and giving medical diagnoses, I'll think I'll stay out of the fray. Besides, what expertise could I possibly have to offer that "psychic" John Edward hasn't already?

So on to my story:

A few days ago, I finally put two and two together and realized that the odor problem in my hallway closet was connected to an earlier problem I had involving a roommate.
Unfortunately, my roommate was of the small, furry, rodent type. (See?!? Now my apartment seems like a crap-hole again and nobody's ever going to want to come and visit me...)

About a week and a half after I moved in, I noticed that a hole had been chewed through the plastic bag of the bread I had left on the kitchen counter and part of the bread had been eaten. I was pretty sure I hadn't done that in my sleep, so I told the landlords that I had a rodent problem.
The next day, they sent a maintenance guy with a few sticky traps that he put down in strategic positions. He also stuffed a couple of holes with steel wool, which he said the rodents won't chew through.

I checked the traps daily but nothing happened for a couple of days. Then late one night, I heard the scurrying of tiny feet in the vents.
Not a good sign.

The next morning, I woke up and realized that my little friend was not impressed with my efforts to catch it. One of the sticky traps that lay between the stove and refrigerator had been scooted to the side to allow passage. Another trap behind the stove had an upside-down cockroach trap on top of it. I don't even know where the cockroach trap came from! So not only did this rodent know that the sticky traps should be avoided, it dragged some cockroach trap it found who-knows-where and dropped it on the sticky part so that it didn't have to worry about it.

It was at this point that I began to wonder if I was dealing with an escaped lab rat that had been genetically altered to become supersmart.
Or worse, I thought, what if it's a squirrel? I actually worried about this latter possibility because:
a) I really rather like squirrels.
b) If you've ever tried to prevent them from doing something, you know squirrels are unbelievably clever.
I finally decided it probably wasn't a squirrel because, if it had been, I would have already returned from work late one night to find my cupboards cleaned out; my Xbox, TV and other valuables gone; and a spray-painted note scrawled on the wall saying: "DEEZ NUTS!!!!"

Ahem.
Anyhow, I rearranged some of the steel wool to better block one of the holes and waited. I haven't heard or seen Brain (nor his cohort Pinky) since, and I've even begun keeping bread out on the counter again without any problem. So I had sort of forgotten about it. But when the closet started stinking and then the same odor would show up in the bathroom sometimes (please keep your bathroom humor to yourself), I began to realize that the smell was coming from inside the wall that the closet and bathroom share.

That's when I had my revelation, which, after talking with a few others about it, I think is probably correct:

There's a dead rodent in there.

Now, having some experience with extracting rodents from a wall (see flashback post tomorrow), I considered just going in there myself and taking the danged thing out. But I hesitate to do that because I don't really know where in the wall it might be. I talked with the landlords, but they're not quite sure what to do either. I figure the smell will eventually go away and in the meantime, I bought air freshener for the closet and under the bathroom sink where it's connected to that wall.

On the bright side, it's totally not noticeable with the closet door closed (unless of course, you go into the closet) and occasionally in the bathroom. Plus, I think the worst of it might have passed. But then again, I don't really know what the staying power of rotting rodent is.

So there you go. Mystery solved.

One of life's certainties

I just finished doing my taxes for 2004. If you haven't done so already, I strongly suggest e-filing. You can do federal taxes and some state taxes for free, and it's way easier than normal filing. Depending on where you live and if you meet the criteria, there's a free online version of Turbo Tax that's very painless and pretty plain-spoken.

Tomorrow: Life's other certainty and how it relates to the smell in my closet.

Things you never knew you needed

Ever wanted a way to lose weight while playing video games? Now you can! And for the low, low price of only $1,000 to buy what I'm quite certain is a totally impractical way of playing video games. Read more at Gig Matrix.

Women, ever wanted to pee your name in the snow? I thought so. Now you too can understand the freedom of peeing while standing up. Thank the makers of another invention that's been in the news lately: the P-Mate! Unzip the pants, but this funnel-type contraption over ... you know, and voila -- you're peeing like a man.

And they say there's still a gender gap.

Put me in coach -- I'm ready to play ...

("Centerfield" lyrics by John Fogerty)

I've joined a fantasy baseball team with some former co-workers and we had our draft yesterday. I think it went pretty well considering that I don't really know what I'm doing and have now committed myself for an entire season to following statistics and the list of injured players and starters and a bunch of things I never really paid any attention to before. I did some research before the draft and tried to make my picks wisely. But truth be told, I was very tempted to draft players based on the quirkiness of their names. My favorite pick was an outfielder named Coco Crisp. I was also would have liked to have drafted the following: Albert Pujhols (pronounced poo-holes), Chipper Jones and David DeJesus. I also got Troy Percival, which is just a cool name.

In other sporting news, I was pleasantly surprised on Friday to find that in the office's NCAA pool, I've actually got a decent shot with one of my brackets. (The other is waaaay down at the bottom of the rankings.) I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much, but it's pretty exciting nonetheless and made both of Saturday's games rather nerve-wracking because I bet on Illinois and Louisville to make it to the Final Four (and Illinois to win it all).

I should mention that it's technically illegal to bet on college sports and so, of course, there's no money involved in the office pool. (Just as I'm sure there's not in your office.) But if there were , I could have a shot at winning almost $1,500. (It's a big office.)

Gee, if only we had bet money...

I'm doomed

I always find it interesting to see what the media focuses on in the personal life of someone who has done something bad.
For instance, yesterday I was reading about the kid in Minnesota who went on a shooting spree in his school after killing his grandfather and others. The relevance of his connection with an online hate group is obvious. But more odd, to me at least, was the amount of time spent in the story on his supposed fascination with zombies.

Yes, zombies.

Apparently, he had contributed to fan fiction sites about zombies, had written stories about regular people trying to survive in a world being taken over by zombies and liked zombie movies. Apparently, this makes him disturbed.

This does not bode well for my friend Klaus. Nor I, nor any of the other people involved with "Faces of Undeath." (If writing about zombies is bad, how screwed up do you have to be to make a movie about them?!?)

When a writer from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch was fired because of a blog he was keeping, one of the articles I read illustrated his eccentricity by pointing out that he kept numerous action figures on his desk at work.
That's your evidence? Big deal. I know people who keep weirder stuff on their desk than that. I used to have a big plastic Viking helmet on my computer. At a Lutheran magazine, they keep around posable Adam and Eve dolls.
You can imagine how they get posed.

The point is, if all of these things are signs of being disturbed, I'm the world's most likely candidate to get fired from work for my blog and then go on a shooting rampage because of it.

If I'd ever worn a trench coat in my life, I'd probably just have to give myself up to the police now.

On a completely unrelated note, my review of "The Office" is up on Gig Matrix if you're interested.

It's odorific!

First off, if you haven't seen "Robot Chicken" on the Cartoon Network, you should check it out sometime. Seth Green is involved if that helps sell it for you. Read more here.
(Coming tomorrow, my review of the Americanized version of "The Office.")

On to my life ...
Really, there hasn't been too much going on. I'm getting close to getting everything unpacked. Then it will just be a matter of getting everything organized. Woo hoo.

In less pleasant news, besides the fact that I still cannot get the cigarette smell to go away completely from my apartment (though I only notice it briefly when I come in now), now one of my closets smells funny.
This is a closet off the hallway, probably for linens and coats. I don't have much in there yet and there's no visible mold or anything, but it really kind of reeks. It smells a little bit like urine, but I know I haven't peed in there (it's not a water closet -- HA!). And I don't remember it smelling that way when I moved in. So seriously, what the hell?!
Right now, I just spray air freshener in there, but that only works for a few moments. I've tried keeping the door open to let it air out, but that just lets the odor waft out. We'll see; I'll come up with something.

Gee, all this stuff about my apartment really makes it sound like a crap-hole. It's not really. (I've certainly lived in worse -- there's no big, black spot on the carpet anywhere that looks like a wrestled with an octopus, the heating seems to work consistently and I have yet to have to call the cops on any neighbors.)
But it definitely has its share of quirks...

Maybe in space, they can't hear you sing

I returned home from work tonight to the sound of my neighbors and some friends singing loudly across the hall.
More specifically, singing Michael Jackson's "Beat It" in a loud, off-key falsetto.

They're still at it, though having killed Michael Jackson, they're on to bludgeoning other songs into submission.
I'm less annoyed that I can hear them across the hall at 1 a.m. than I am because I find their singing to be an offense against humanity in general.

It seems that, even in Virginia, I cannot escape the sounds of karaoke night at the Pioneer.

I am sooo mad

After Tuesday's games, my first-round picks were looking pretty good, but then today ... nooooooooo ... Kansas and Syracuse have to go and muck them all up by losing. Syracuse, which I had going to the Final Four in my main bracket, and Kansas, which I had going to the Sweet Sixteen in that bracket (and winning it all in my second bracket, but that one's pretty much decimated already by some bad picks in the Chicago regional games).

At least, overall in the first round on my main bracket, I'm 23 for 32, which isn't terrible.

Still, as Baby Blue -- who we all know loves basketball -- would say:

What a bunch of jerks.

It's a mad, mad, mad, mad March

I love March Madness. I barely pay attention to college basketball for most of the season (like many sports, I get excited when I'm at a game, but rarely take the time to watch one on TV). But I really get into the NCAA tournament.

I think it's the whole do-or-die thing. You can be the greatest team that ever lived, but if you have a bad day, you can lose to the No. 16 seed. That means it's probably not the most fair judge of which is really the best team, but there's something to be said for the ability to play consistently. And besides, the upsets keep things interesting.

I usually enter the office pool and this year is no different. I actually ended up submitting two ballots (the maximum allowed per person). I had planned on doing all this research but ended up not really having time and just picking like I do every year -- totally randomly, based partly on gut instinct and the occasional eenie-meenie-minie-mo. This was actually how I determined who would win in the final game between Illinois and North Carolina on one of my brackets. (Rounding out the Final Four for that bracket are Syracuse and Louisville.) In the second bracket, I have (gasp!) Kansas taking it all after defeating Oklahoma State. Of course, I just found out this morning that their best guy's stomach flu is flaring up again, or something like that, so that doesn't bode well. (Rounding out the Final Four for the second bracket, if you care, are Duke and Wake Forest.)

In the past, I've always done a bracket for fun in which I determine the game winners by flipping a coin. I mostly do this to see if I can pick winners better than random chance. I'm proud to say that, more often than not, I can.

Though not much better.

So we'll see how the Big Dance goes. But even if my bracketology sucks, if the games are exciting, I'll be happy.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in front of my TV watching the games...

Sweating the small stuff

If you're interested in my review of the TV show "Incredible Heists" on Court TV, check out Gigmatrix.

And for the story of the day, check out this article about people who, bugged by life's little annoyances, choose to get even.

False alarm

I was supposed to have my new employee orientation at work today -- this morning, to be more precise, which involved me getting up several hours earlier than usual. So I dragged myself out of bed and arrived at work, only to find that there was no orientation today. It had been rescheduled. Supposedly an e-mail had been sent to my supervisor, but since she's been out of the office for about a week, who knows? So I went back home and slept for a few more hours.
Despite being rather miffed at this lack of communication (as if it would have been terribly hard to e-mail ME), I'm hoping that the early morning will jump start my sleeping schedule back into something a little more normal. I've been staying awake until about 4 a.m. and sleeping until noon, which is a lousy way of getting anything done. So we'll see.

A couple of other things I feel like railing against, when my cable company set up my cable and high-speed Internet last week, the guy never even stopped by my apartment to see if it worked or anything. This mostly annoyed me because I had woken up at 8 a.m. so that I would be up during the several-hour-timespan in which he was supposed to arrive. But it ends up I could have slept through the whole dang thing and been fine. There was also another cable guy from the same company across the street working on an apartment there at the same time. You'd think one guy could have handled both since he was here, but I guess not. The funny thing was that UPS spent the next couple of days trying to deliver two packages from the cable company. After waiting between the hours of 10-5 for the second attempt at delivery and running in to the guy as I walked out of my apartment at 5:05, I received a coaxial cable and a box of stuff for my Internet access. He said they'd been delivering a lot of those lately, so I can only imagine what kind of shipping costs this is incurring for the company. So why on Earth wouldn't you just have the cable guy take two minutes and hand this stuff to me in person?!? Are all their cable guys lepers or something?
It makes no sense.

Also in the realm of things that make no sense, McDonald's (or at least the ones here) has begun to offer only 10-piece Chicken McNuggets with its value meal. It used to be eight and that was perfect. But no, now I have to get 10. It's not a supersize choice or something, it's the default, and I can't downsize it. I don't want 10 chicken nuggets; I only want eight. I'm seriously considering not eating at McDonald's anymore in protest. And for those that know some of my eating habits, you know that's a big deal.

In other interesting news, check out this fascinating story about what happened between Brian Nichols -- the guy from the Atlanta courthouse shootings -- and the woman he took hostage in her apartment. It's a great read.

Part III

So in the two weeks since I've been in Norfolk, I've done a little bit of unpacking, played a lot of video games and just been going through the general process of settling into a new place. Most of it's not that exciting, but here are some snippets that may or may not be amusing:

Weird things I've discovered about my apartment since moving in:
1) There's no dishwasher -- doh! Totally forgot about that when apartment hunting.
2) Laundry is $1.25 to wash and the same to dry; and the dryer I used didn't dry very well. This seems expensive to me, even though it really probably isn't. The laundry facilities are also in the next building, meaning I've got to go outside to do my laundry anyway. For that trouble, my car is a lot closer and I decided I may as well just drive to a laundromat. I found a place where it's $1 to wash on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, which are my days off of work. I realize that's only a difference of 25 cents, but at least the dryers work better. Plus, it's across the street from a Papa John's, so I can pick up a pizza and bring it home. :-)
3) Most of the electrical outlets are upside down. Or at least what I think of as upside down (with the two prong holes on the bottom and the grounding pin on top). I have no idea why this is, but then again maybe I've never known which way is up for an outlet.
4) Speaking of outlets, the bathroom doesn't have any.
5) The bathroom does, however, have a large metal bin of sorts connected to the wall. It has a panel on hinges like the top of some garbage cans, so at first, that's what I thought it was. But there's no way to put a garbage bag in there. My best guess is that it might be for towels. But what an odd thing to take up space in a bathroom with.
6) One of the kitchen cabinet doors can't be opened all the way, because it hits the light fixture. You would have thought someone would have noticed this when designing the kitchen. But apparently not. So I can only open that cabinet door about 45 degrees and have to remember not to just fling it open lest one day I send the kitchen light crashing down on my head.
7) The refrigerator periodically makes weird knocking noises, like there's a small person inside tapping out Morse code.
"Generally you don't see that sort of behavior in a major appliance."
But I haven't heard anyone say "Zuul" when I open it up, so I can't be too concerned.

As an unrelated story, I had spent a couple of days looking around for a bed last week (I thought it was time to upgrade to an adult, queen-sized bed rather than the twin bed I've slept in since I was a kid). Then last week I was doing laundry at the laundromat and ordered my first Papa John's pizza in Duluth. As I was waiting for it, I wandered into a furniture store next door. Lo and behold, they had a headboard I liked on sale for $99, a mattress that was comparable to all the others I'd seen, and a matching nightstand for pretty cheap. Plus, the guy was willing to give me 20 percent off all of it.
So I bought a bed while waiting for a pizza.

And that more or less catches us up to the present. I don't know how exciting my blog will be from here on out, but I'll do my best.
If nothing else, I can always dedicate a posting on Social Security to Baby Blue...

Part II: Moving in

I had big plans for my first night in Norfolk. I had been thinking about it for the latter half of my road trip. I'd brought a TV so I could watch "Lost" and "Alias" that night, order Papa John's pizza and it would be a great way to start in my new place.

Unfortunately, things don't always work out the way we plan.

I walked into my empty apartment (my furniture and most of my stuff wouldn't arrive for another week) and was somewhat overcome with doubt and loneliness. Walking into a big, empty apartment can do that, I guess. Here I was, in many ways starting from scratch and rebuilding my life anew -- again. Having moved many times -- between towns and within towns -- I wasn't worried about my ability to do it so much as I felt wary of doing it. Despite my fear of settling in life, sometimes settling down doesn't seem so bad. Or at least not moving to a different apartment every year.
My mini-emotional crisis was compounded by the fact that I discovered Papa John's didn't deliver to where I live and I didn't get any stations on the TV (cable wasn't hooked up until this past Monday). I had also made a trip to Target for some of the essentials but had either forgotten/couldn't find/decided to put off buying most of the things on my list, including air freshner because whoever lived here before clearly smoked.
Also included in that was a shower curtain -- but not just any shower curtain, the one I had previously had in Duluth. This would later become a bit of an obsession. I went back to Target three times over the next several days looking for the shower curtain I wanted and the store was always out of it. I could say that I was so intent on getting that particular curtain simply because I liked it, but from a psychological perspective, I think I was probably just trying to salvage something familiar in my new settings. (It occurs to me that my choice of apartment could have been influenced by the same thing, seeing as how I live right by a mall, a Target, a Home Depot, an Olive Garden and a grocery store, just like my last apartment in Duluth.) And yes, I could have just kept the old shower curtain, but it was old and ready to be trashed. At any rate, I finally ended up driving to a Target in the next city to get it there.
So that was my multiday quest for a shower curtain.

Anyhow, so I was feeling a little sorry for myself for the first couple of hours in town, but I was cheered up several things:
1) I arrived to find a bunch of mail, including a "housewarming" letter from Germany, which was a total surprise and incredibly touching.
2) I talked on the phone to my parents and much of the Duluth gang.
3) I had thought to bring my video games along and began playing "Resident Evil 4," which is fantastic.
4) I also watched the commentary from "Faces of Undeath," a little-known but incredibly funny zombie movie. It's a cult classic. Trust me.

So that was my first night here. It ended well, or at least as well as it can with me sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor for the first of many nights. But you know how it is...

Coming up:
Odd things about my apartment
and
How I went to pick up a pizza and ended up buying a bed

Back and blogging, Part I: The Trip

Hello there.
I'm back online, though bear with me as I catch up on everyone's e-mails and blogs. In the meantime, I present to you the first installment of what I've been up to, along with a quick anecdote from today:

So I was driving around this afternoon, flipping stations on the radio and I come across this hip-hop song, which I later find out is called "Lonely" by Akon. It's not a particularly good song, but what captivated me was that it included a chorus that sounded very much like it was sung by Alvin of Alvin and the Chipmunks. This brought to mind several questions:
1) Has Alvin decided to go solo?
2) How do Simon, Theodore and Dave feel about this?
3) Could the other two chipmunks join up the guys from NSync that Justin Timberlake left behind when he went solo? Maybe they could also join the members of Destiny's Child that Beyonce ditched. They could form a group called Can't Make It On Our Own or something like that.
4) Why would you pair a chipmunk with a hip-hop artist?
5) Then again, why not?

So anyway, the trip out to Virginia went as well as a 1,803-mile trip can go. Suffice to say I was tired of being in a car by the time I got here. And thank goodness for books on tape, or I would have driven myself insane. But I definitely recommend Bill Bryson's "I'm a Stranger Here Myself" and Alice Sebold's "The Lovely Bones."

After leaving Duluth with a heavy heart and not just a few tears, I made my first stop in Wisconsin for a fun visit with relatives I hadn't seen in years. Then I made my way down into the heartland to visit K-Mac. We hung out with her very cool, very fun RFT crew, and the next day we visited our alma mater. Our inner journalism geeks were in luck, because the judging for Pictures of the Year was going on at the time, which is a lot more interesting than it sounds. They look at all the entries for the year's best photos from around the world on a big screen and, in moments, the judges decide which ones stay for consideration to win an award and which ones are out. For spot news, they looked at more than 600 photos and whittled it down to about 40 in an hour or so. It's fascinating to see what the judges think separates an average or even good photo from a truly great one. We closed out our time in Columbia with dinner with an old friend (I ate toasted ravioli -- a treat I haven't had since college) and a quick tour of campus to see how things have changed. A fair amount has been updated but, most surprising, who would have thought the MU Student News would still be around?
Wonders never cease.

The next day, I decided to take a short detour into Metropolis, Ill., home of the Superman museum and an annual Superman festival in the summer. I suspected it would be pretty hokey and wasn't disappointed. The city's motto seems to be "Metropolis: We're Unique!"
Not exactly words to inspire you to book a vacation.
Besides the big statue of Superman in the middle of the city (but no Daily Planet -- what a wasted opportunity!), there's a museum that's basically one guy's overabundant collection of Superman-related items. There are props and costumes from the numerous TV and movie incarnations of Superman, more action figures and comic books than you would have ever thought possible (including the old comic spin-offs that focused on Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane and were HORRIBLE). But I did buy a Superman T-shirt. I'd like to say it was out of pity for the poor woman behind the counter who, I'm pretty sure, hadn't seen anyone in the place all day, but really it was because I've always wanted one. And, admittedly, I'm glad I checked the place out.

My curiosity sated, I headed through Lexington for dinner with an old college pal and on to Charleston, W.Va. The rest of the drive into Norfolk the next day was uneventful until the last 20 miles, which took an hour and a half because of accidents, construction and general traffic problems. It was excruciating -- partly because after five days I was so close to the end I could taste it, and partly because I really had to pee.

What will Brian find in Norfolk?
What if he doesn't like it?
Will the Joker's dastardly plan mean the end of the copy editing crusader?
Tune in tomorrow to find out -- same blog time, same blog channel ...