There are 6 in our group split between two flights. 3 Budget cars. Twoguys from the first flight take one each leaving the remaining car for thefour of us and all of our gear. We looked like Americans in Panama allcrammed into our plain vanilla sedan. The local traffic are either exoticLambos, M3s with dark windows or clapped out Toyotas or Nissans somerunning without lights. I mean literally, one of them physically had noheadlights (or grill). The local roads are near capacity and just crazy.We cruise by a lifeless pedestrian crumpled where he was hit whenJ-walking. EMT enroute.

There is this need to save face, maintain personal space, or defend your right of way. At what cost? Indiana Pacers forward Ron Artest saved his honor but sacrificed a years wages — maybe his career. This guy may have been a superstar hero but now he’s reduced himself to a zero. The challenger has a whole lot less at stake. Whether it’s a Road Rage incident or a customer trying to push your button the lesson from the basketball game brawl is to just walk away.

Got ta have it. Used to be that your parental units suggested that you wait until your Birthday or Christmas, which ever came first. No instant gratification. But these days new toys are launched according to a production developer marketing timeline. Like a hot new car design or major motion picture debut there is plenty of fan fare, pre publicity, hype and a frenzy of spy photos, screenshots, trailers, leaked details and teasers. This culminates in midnight madness on the official day when you retrieve your item if you were savvy enough to advance reserve your copy of the much anticipate sought after and limited edition hard to get. Good luck urging Master Chief to have patience until his/her personal holiday.

In case your VCR fast forwards through the commercials… You may have missed these: The Business Trip Spot. Or, this one? Terminal Madness. Here’s a 60 sec. radio ad: Airport Bar.

Fixing one thing can make something else worse (If it ain’t broke don’t fix it?). B.O.U.R.Girl, in attempt to keep her car free of hair and paw prints, spread a garage blanket in the tailgate of the Pacifica so dawg could ride along. As she laid this out there sprang from the security of the folds a mighty cock-roach who stunned by the bright of day lingered for a moment and then made a bee line for the louvers of our car’s return air vent. The creature was irretrievably slurped from view to lurk from somewhere amongst the inner environmental workings. “Where does that vent go?” she asked disgustedly. “Directly to the driver’s seat!”, not resisting an obvious tease. I suppose I could have put on a proper show and emptied a can of roach motel down that vent. Too late in hind sight. That critter has surely made his way to the front vents by now.