Checking in

Yeah, yeah, yeah ... I know -- I've let this get away from me again. Truth is, I really have not had much to write about, and there hasn't really been a lot of there that I have wanted to throw my two cents in on.

I suppose one thing I could write about is the Oilers coming back from 3-1 down to force Game 7 of the Stanley Cup finals on Monday in North Carolina against the Hurricanes. I didn't see this coming. With Dwayne Roloson out with a knee injury and rookie Cam Ward doing his best Patrick Roy imitation, I thought for sure Edmonton was done.

Al-Zarqawi is dead ... not expecting a lot of fallout there -- the insugency will still try to wreak havoc. Many major cities in the U.S., including storm-ravaged New Orleans, are not prepared to handle many major disasters ranging from those caused natrually to terrrorism. Does this really come as a surprise to anyone? It's the "it can't happen to me" syndrome.

I have been on a mini-vacation for the last three days, and will be off until Wednesday night. I was in Cincinnati on Friday to watch the White Sox beat the tar out of the Reds. Never had been the the Great American Ball Park before, and got there about six hours before game time, so I walked over one of the many bridges into Kentucky and killed time at a local Barnes & Noble.

The game itself was pretty good -- Joe Crede hit a first-inning grand slam, and Chicago rolled to a 12-4 win. Planned on staying overnight, but ended up driving home after the game. That was silly -- I was exhausted and surprised I didn't get pulled over for weaving all over the place.

Later today, I will be in Milwaukee for the Brewers and Indians. Tomorrow, I'll be headed to the Wisconsin Dells to meet up with some friends from Kansas that I haven't seen in a couple years. I have a date for coffee on Tuesday, but anyone who knows me should know what I am thinking ... how is this one going to back out of it?

Also been trying not to get too depressed ... i have been doing way too much thinking about what life was like growing up. Opportunities missed. The good times, way too few -- the bad times, way too many. I know, sounds like a pity party ... and I hate that. Maybe, just maybe, I am starting to feel my own mortality. Coming up on 41 in September, and really questioning which direction my life is going in.