am here. Been busy busy busy. Work, school, skunk works, family, soccer… tired – but I am here.A
gazillion little rocks are strewn all around my room. I don’t know what is it about my kid. Where ever he goes, he seems to attract rocks destined to be brought back and scattered in my room. They arrive in truck loads in his shoes, socks, in pockets, and some even confined in the inner sanctum of his tiny underwear.T
alking about rocks, I am assaulted by bitter sweet memories of my own school days when my brother and I did the same thing - except that we brought home beach sand instead of rocks. Our school was beside St Andrews beach where we dug holes and buried our bare toes in the soft, damp, loose sand. We escavated ruins of ancient sea life and unearthed seashells and other nautical treasures. My son is doing the same thing. Only thing is he dont have a brother to collect rocks with him. I think I need to fix that.I
t is a shame that Cricket fans are burning shops and brushing tar. These lunatics need treatment. Like swamiji said, it is time we treated cricket no better than Kabbadi or Kho Kho.A
colleague of mine came by to invite me for his wedding. He is marrying the daughter of an ex minister in AP. He was happy that he is getting 7 rice mills, one engineering college, one dental college, one mineral water bottling plant, several medical stores in Hyderabad, flats, farm houses, half of west Godavari district, and one butt ugly wife. I did not know what to tell him - whether he had been blessed or extremely unlucky.W
hen I see “experts” like Ann Coulter serving liturgical sermons on Fox network I can understand why more than 30% of Americans believe that the war in Iraq is going well. Ann Coulter should be led away to somewhere quiet, where uniformed staff make sure that she take her medication every day and change her diapers as needed.