My Sick Mind

PLACERVILLE, Calif. A woman who was snatched from a bus stop as an 11-year-old child in 1991 turned up Thursday after being held for the past 18 years in isolation in a backyard compound (above) by a convicted sex offender who fathered two children with her, police said. I don't know about you (and never will) but when I'm driving or walking along the street, I look at the houses and wonder, "What's going on in there?" Part of it is my instinctive curiosity and part of it is fueled by that scene in "Silence of the Lambs" when Agent Starling stumbles on Buffalo Bill's house, which is a seemingly innocuous suburban dwelling, but instead is the center of oddball behavior. As it turns out, Jaycee Dugard and her two children were living there as prisoners, authorities say. The heavily wooded compound was arranged so that people could not view what was happening, and one of the buildings was sound-proofed and could only be opened from the outside. Nei...

BOSTON – Sen. Edward M. Kennedy began his final journey Thursday, first past landmark after landmark bearing his family's famous name and then to his slain brother's presidential library where mourners lined up by the thousands to bid farewell to him and an American political dynasty. Crowds assembled along the 70-mile route that snaked from the family's compound in Hyannis Port to the John F. Kennedy Library and Museum, where his body lay in repose. We're funny with the dead. Funny strange, not funny ha-ha. We trot them around, put them on display and, the more famous you are, the longer it takes. Often they wind up on trains or long car rides. Most of the time we don't like dead bodies. The ones that lie in the street or wind up washed ashore are gross and disgusting, and we turn our heads - after we get a good look. But we seem to relish the opportunity to look at a body in repose. Bodies made-up with sticks inside and the blood drained out are somehow appeal...

When I was in college and I had a big exam or a paper to write, I'd go to the local library. However backed-up I was creatively or stymied by the material, I always found solace in the peace and quiet of the books and ceiling fans, away from the distractions of home. My new creative outlet is the supermarket. It's almost as quiet, save for the occasional announcements of lost children or a pizza sale in the deli aisle. I find that I can wander, and as long as I have my hand cart and quizzical look I can stay there as long as I want. Nobody bothers me or asks, "Can I help you?" [an open-ended question if ever I've heard one] I can browse uninterrupted, alone with my thoughts, as insignificant as they may seem. I needed aspirin. I get maybe three headaches a year, and every time I get one, I don't have any analgesic to take to alleviate the pain. What I notice when I open the package is that it's sealed as though it contained Plutonium. There's a plas...

Police in Delaware found a 3 year-old boy wandering a busy Newark highway early on Tuesday. The kid was under the (alleged) care of the Little Scholars Center, whose sign proclaims "Where your childs lifetime learning begins." Apparently, the child's learning will not include the proper use of the apostrophe. Something tells me the kids are smarter than the people running the joint. Child is possessive, which is a concept lost on the Center, where no building is big enough to hold them. Maybe a better slogan for the center would be, "Your Child's Journey Begins With a Single Step - Out the Door and Into Traffic." Or, "Where Your Child's Lifetime Ends." Better. You'll find the story here . In several ways I'm glad I'm not a single parent. I'm way too neurotic to leave my children with anyone who isn't directly related, and even then, I'm probably on the phone every five minutes asking, "Is he still breathing?...

I don't get many perks at work. Sure, my job is easy and I have a great boss, but the freebies usually go to the upper-level management types, which ain't me. Wednesday's Air Show invitation was an oddity, but maybe a sign of things to come. Today, I was treated to a Luxury Box at Citi Field, home of the New York Mets for their game (we'll call it a game) against the defending World "f**king" Champion Phillies. Here are some photos I took. I think clicking on them will make them bigger, which is more than I can say for a lot of things. This is the main entrance to the ballpark, into something they call the Rotunda. The bricks where those loser Mets fans are standing contain the names of people who paid to help them pave the sidewalk, the latest trend in cheapskate architecture. The way the Mets are playing, I envisioned the namesakes at the ballpark under cover of darkness, prying their bricks out with a chisel. Cliff Lee was on the mound for the Phillies a...

... the Koreans weren't involved in the Solheim Cup. All the Americans had to do was beat the Europeans. If they had to beat that bunch from South Korea and Japan, God only knows what would have happened. So, teary-eyed sentiment was followed by the grim realization that made-up sporting events, while fun, are just that ... made up. Make the Solheim Cup a true Worldwide event and you'll be saying something. Nevertheless, it was a gut check by Paula Creamer, Juli Inkster, Stanford, Wie and the rest to get out of Illinois with that big glass trophy. Nice going ladies. My jingoistic figurative hat is off to you. Meanwhile, the Phils managed to end a game in a way that had only been done once in 82 years. An unassisted triple play . Future "where is he now" candidate Eric Bruntlett caught a line drive off the bat of Mets' outfielder Jeff Francouer, stepped on second and tagged the runner coming from first to complete the trifecta. That's why you don't start...