1. Yesterday, in the video/music/books/games section of Target, I heard a kid say to his father, "It's The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King". Really, I could hear the full colon. For so long each volume has held a concrete and discrete identity in my mind, so such a long-winded construction sounds alien. For that matter I don't say "Star Wars: Episode One: The Phantom Menace". Then again I try not to think about Episodes One through Three (still haven't seen number Three; which is shocking, but more an indictment of Lucas rather than myself).

2. Yesterday, again, I was digging up the sod in a portion of the front yard (that portion slopes precipitously and it's a waste to water it to keep the grass alive). As I sweated and strained I could feel some part of my genetic heritage (that part that found its full expression in digging for peat in the bogs or for potatoes in the fields) laughing at my amateurish exertion.

3. Yesterday, finally, I spent experiencing a manner of the thralldom which our forebears could bear no longer when they gave the Brits the thumbs down. I am speaking, of course, of re-stringing guitars. I love playing them but hate changing strings. I need my own guitar tech to take care of these things.