Where can I find a closed course?

Professional driver on a closed course.

That's what the car ads say. We buy into it, thinking that the vehicle will somehow handle as well with our stupid asses behind the wheel as it does with a professional driver on a road with no other cars. If they really wanted to sell cars, they'd put some half-blind old man behind the wheel and see if he could successfully merge into traffic on the expressway. Then, the ad could say "Half-blind old man on a busy road."

Imagine how you could do.

Craving More Head.

A great burden has been lifted from my life's shoulders. What, you ask? I did not fill out an NCAA tournament bracket this year. No free one online, no five dollar pool at work ... not even a scribble on the blank one that the newspaper published on Monday.

Now, I am free. It's just basketball. Sadly, I think it would die a miserable death if greater America couldn't wager on it. Like the lottery, unsuspecting non-basketball fans live with this pre-conceived notion that they can turn five dollars into a hundred by writing the names of colleges that they couldn't find on a map in spaces that they couldn't have imagined three weeks ago. It's like the lure of the Siren's song. Never what it seems to be, but who among us can resist?

I can.

Not only can I resist, but I can revel in it, and therein lies the charm. I can watch the tournament and laugh that 13 seeds like Morehead State beat big time schools like Louisville. Most bracket-fillers could find Louisville if you spotted them Kentucky, and would be stumped to locate Morehead in its state - which is not Morehead, but Kentucky. Go figure.

So take that, Louisville!

Another day's useless energy spent.

I spend a lot of time typing user names and passwords. I guess we all do. If you want to leave a comment, you have to type in a user name and password - so I guess I'm more a part of the problem than the solution.

Anyway, if we think about the amount of time we spend typing user names and passwords and substitute the usefulness of that time for a different activity, we might be more relaxed or sexually satisfied - or whatever it is that we would choose to do with those minutes otherwise spent logging in.

Sometimes it's useful. For things like bank accounts and buying concert tickets. Other times it's practically useless, like when I want to get a weather forecast. I thought I might want to check on Saturday's weather. I realize that's a major stretch, since they mostly can't tell us what tomorrow's weather will be, but sometimes I surprise myself with my optimism.

Besides, I'm spending a lot of money on some revisions to my bicycle, so it's in my best interests to be able to plan for the weekend. What it brought about, however, was confusion - which is where the uselessness of typing user names and passwords comes in.

Do I believe the little drawing or the text at the bottom? Too soon to tell. Perhaps that's how they claim their incredible accuracy? Tell us a lot of things so that one of them comes true. It's like you dopes who fill out ten NCAA tournament brackets and proclaim yourself a winner if you get one close to right.

I'll log-in again on Friday.

Sunday in the city.

Since Christ is going to return in a couple of months, I figured it would be a good time to go out and take some photos. There were more than a couple of people carrying those signs around Philadelphia on Sunday, so I guess they must know what they're talking about.

As for me, I'd hate to think that on May 21 the world is going to end. I'm going to miss the Orioles and Nationals at Camden Yards. That would suck, and Jesus wouldn't want me to miss such a big baseball game, would He?

I left The Mighty Thor at home to go to the big city and put the camera to work.
This is the lobby of the Comcast Center on JFK Boulevard. They spent a lot of my cable money on a large video screen. The show is pretty impressive, but I can't help but wonder why there are three indentations over the entrance ways.
I think the show would be more impressive if the screen was a large rectangle.

In Philadelphia, there is a problem with people who want to dispose of their toilet tissue in places other than the toilet. That's why it's necessary to put signs up.
This is the lobby of the Comcast Center. Downstairs, there are shops and small restaurants that were closed, because it's Sunday. My cable bill charges for every day.
This is City Hall from JFK Boulevard. There was a St. Patrick's Day parade going on nearby. It was loaded with people who couldn't find Ireland on a map.
A cluster of buildings shields Liberty Place from Broad Street. That's City Hall on the left.

The large video screen at the Comcast Center proves that people will watch anything, as long as it's on TV. The lobby was filled with spill-over's from the St. Patrick's Day parade who were sitting at tables, staring at the giant screen.