Where am I?
I must confess abject embarrassment at how infrequently I update this thing. I can't figure out if that points to how little time I actually have to, like, think, or if it simply points to the fact that I'm lazy and lack self-discipline. I refuse to concede that it's simply because my life is boring.

It's been an odd news week. Can't remember the last time a major plane crash in the United States fell off the front page so quickly. "Hmm, well, it was an accident, let's move on." Normally, there would be days and days and days of follow-up, and we'd be waiting on the NTSB's every word. Not anymore. Scary.

Or maybe we were wrong all along originally.

Attended the dreaded "company picnic" today. At our company, that means a private party at a very large amusement park near our large Texas city. It's always weird to see work people outside of the work environment. Making it more interesting was the number of people who got to see my children covered in the remnants of the huge lollipops that some parent thought would be a good idea. "Hey, they're only kids once," she said. Can guarantee you that had that been my idea, there would have been hell to pay for that one.

Yep, just not enough time in the world. So much interesting stuff I could be writing, you know. Just no time.

AA 587
used to be, when i'd hear a report of a major plane crash, i would almost involuntarily go into Breaking News Mode: intensely focused, thinking about nothing but gathering up all of the elements for the story at hand, and keeping an eye and an ear on everything possible relating to said story.

i heard about the crash of american flight 587 when i got in the car to come to work this morning. listened for a few minutes, felt myself going into Breaking News Mode. listened a minute longer, determined, "hmm, that sounds like an accident" ... and then punched the button for ESPN radio. they were talking about mark mcgwire. i left the radio there.

i wonder if i'll ever go into Breaking News Mode ever again.

Some things I know ...
... and others, I just wonder about:

--I'm painfully aware of all the imagery from the Sept. 11 attacks: all the smoke, all the people, all the destruction. It leaves me to wonder: What must that have sounded like? What does a jet flying full throttle at less than 1,000 feet sound like? What kind of sound does it make when it crashes into a building? It seems impossible to me to think that sound could be mistaken for anything else. I don't know why I wonder about such things, and it's something I certainly would rather not think about. But I think about it anyway.
--(hold on for a really jarring transition from real world to sports:) Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones is an idiot. I don't think there's much debate on that subject. But I wonder: If he's so stupid, and he is, how did he acquire all that jack? And does that mean there's hope for the rest of us, financially speaking? Anybody who thought it was the coaches' decision to pull Clint Stoerner -- who wasn't real good Sunday, but God knows we've seen worse -- isn't thinking straight. Jones has a woody for Ryan Leaf, and needed to see him play, no matter how it interfered with the flow of the game. I'd like to dig through NFL annals and see when the last time a healthy quarterback was pulled from a tie game with four minutes to play.
--I wonder if the Cleveland Browns are wondering how they went from kneel-down territory to overtime loss in less than a minute. Memo to Browns special teams: That onside kick isn't supposed to be that easy for the kicking team to recover. Memo to Browns defense: On the last-second fling, you're supposed to tip that ball backwards. Memo to those of us who watch football: Looks like we'll be watching the Bears in January.
--Mariano Rivera has a wicked curveball. Too bad for the Yankees he threw it to second base.

It's Monday. A good day for unguided wondering.

So I was sitting at the computer, noticing that I hadn't batted out an update in several days, and I asked myself: "Why isn't my life more interesting?" Other than the fact that I'm tethered to many duties, sometimes simultaneously, I came to realize this: I spend a lot of time driving back and forth to work. A lot of time.

Circumstances conspired this week to force me to spend more than two hours on my 35-mile drive home Wednesday night. I left work at 6 p.m. with all good intentions of getting home about 45 minutes later to participate in trick-or-treat festivites. But alas, an 18-wheeler was stalled in the absolute worst possible square yard in all of the greater metropolitan area in which to stall. Being trapped in the left lane, I couldn't even contemplate an alternate route.

I could, however, contemplate the utter futility of a traffic jam. I could do nothing. It's like being trapped in a vacuum. I could do nothing but sit, wait, take my foot off the brake and accelerate to 2 mph every once in a while. Otherwise, nothing. Except wonder why there was nothing more interesting going on in my life than sitting in a traffic jam.

So, of course, I missed trick-or-treating. The kids were already in bed by the time I got home. So much for good intentions.