All Things Considered

This morning. A tickle in my nose, probably indicating allergies, unlike the tickle on the nose, which indicates that somebody is thinking about you. Or not. But I've always liked that idea.

The car is clunking. Literally, clunking. Not pleasant.

Otherwise, coming off dreams of gun fights and Iraq, which was a kind of house in the dream, like a party, but with violence in various rooms. And vodka tonics in others.

Been enjoying Tavis Smiley in the mornings, with his Cornell West-my-brother chats and his airing of the rantings of a crazy southern Klan member. They way he held back...seems unholy, or maybe very, very holy, to keep the mouth shut and let the genius speak for himself. The guy went on--everything from communism to bemoaning the current government in a holed-up-in-Waco-style diatribe. Fascinante. (Tavis Smiley Show from NPR)

Now on to the pleasantries of the day. To stories that may or may not make me cry in the reporting and to possible trips to a mechanic, which could also make me cry.

Good day.