Here's the thing...

Go here where you can see this and another video. A shout-out of thanks to Mike who knows very cool people and tends to share! Coming of Age The days are gone for the walkin’ away The sun sets fast at the end of the day Everyone I know is still runnin’ around Try to outrun the runnin’ ‘fore it takes ‘em down They all came from some place that I never knew A house with a window and a room with a view But where I came from is where I had to leave Who I was and what I had to believe I remember those times when the evening’d fade We’d take off our shoes and the plans we’d made Think about someone I might find Some kind of cure for this kind of blind Some kind of woman who could help me see Some kind of child to help me start to believe ’cause I thought I’d be fine in the driving rain But these thoughts are just bickering around my brain I said I found myself somewhere on the way But I couldn’t even point you to that day Seems I never quite know just where I’ll land Keep pleading f...

After having been out of the States for awhile, I have returned to be taken aback by our new obsession with round-the-clock news that has been mixed with a reality-TV-voyeurism and a Facebook narcissism that results in what can only be described as journarcivoyerism [pronounced: jour-nar-si-voy-yer-ism]. And by that I mean this....the news is no longer something we watch to become informed. We watch it to delve into other people's lives. We watch it out of morbid curiousity. We watch it because we need someone to give us our opinions so that we sound smarter than we actually are. The most recent example of this was, obviously, the Pope. The Pope. 24/7. Really. Is that news? Now, don't get me wrong. I like the Pope. I'm glad that his comings and goings made the news and that we were interested in what he had to say, and when, and where, and to whom. But, do I need to know his thoughts, the cardinals' thoughts, the commentators' thoughts, the thoughts of those in...

For those of you following the mouse saga: I haven't seen, nor heard, him today. Dare I hope?

Incidentally. One day later I am watching him climb in and out, in and out of the box of poison having a little munch here and there. Actually, it has been more like brunch, a mid-morning snack, 11-sies, afternoon tea, a small appetizer, an after-dinner nibble, and a midnight snack. Remind me never to buy stock in rat poison companies.

I am typing this very, very slowly and quietly. Mostly because I am watching a mouse die. It doesn't know it's dying yet. It's been running around on the kitchen countertop and stove for the past half an hour with flagrant disregard for the deal that was struck in time immemorial between humans and 'pests'. That is, they walk all over our plates, cutlery, and food at night and don't leave evidence of their existence and we don't kill them. Once they start leaving droppings or coming out in daylight it's a no-hold-barred-free-for-all on their extermination. Sorry, little friends. Them's the rules. I don't make them up. I simply enforce them. So, while I was sitting here in the kitchen (at 10pm but with the lights on) a mouse decided to run across the counter. A cute little brown mouse. I could forgive that. I mean, maybe he was late getting home to his little mouse family across the house. Maybe he doesn't live here and is just on a layover...