What To Do When You Don't Know What To Do...

Blog, obviously. It's difficult; I find myself wanting to post election-related anger and frustration on a semi-regular basis, and yet I know that repetition doesn't make the heart grow fonder, and there's nothing really new to say. I'm still reading dumb "screw the red states" stuff on the net, and it's still pissing me off... I'm horrified by the nomination of Mr. "The Geneva Convention--what's that?" Gonzales for Atty General. And this, courtesy of Upyernoz, holy crap. But all is not lost; the world turns, the sun comes out, it's only four years, and we are only tiny parts of a vast tapestry of history that trends, over the long term, toward the more tolerant, the more reasonable, the finer and better parts of humanity. Or so I'd like to think. Check this out. It's a column from the Tribune citing a few interesting statistics about how Americans' opinions on social issues have changed in the last 40 years. Thanks, Eric Zorn, for providing a breath of perspective during a rough patch in America's move toward an enlightened society. Sometimes, when we want change RIGHT NOW, it's hard to remember these things.

Since I did a few political posts and rants, my hit count jumped! Figure that. Strangely, when I blog about bacon omlettes and canoe trips, the hits drop off. I'm not talking here about people who actually know me, mind you. I know you guys'll read whatever dull anecdotes I slap up here! Thanks! But I live for finding out that I'm Google's #1 site for the phrase "bacon omlette." (I'm not. I just checked.) I think what really did it was the "I Voted For Kerry" thing back on Nov. 2; dozens of people are googling that, both in and out of blogspot.

Speaking of dull anecdotes, I dropped a clipboard into the shark tank this week. Fortunately it has a grease pencil attached to it by a piece of tubing, so that floated tantalizingly on the surface even as the clipboard with its feed charts was drifting slowly down through the water column. I dove to my knees and grabbed it just before it all sank beyond my grasp, saving me from having to go to the keepers and say, "Errr.... I've done it again." (Well, I haven't dropped a clipboard before. Last time it was my keys.) All's well that ends well, other than the bruises incurred from flinging self down on rough-textured aluminum catwalk. At least I gave the patrons a good show.