Wherein I reflect on gay marriage and just a wee little bit upon marriage itself. Please note, I really have no business writing this stuff. But I just don't have the sense…

Okay, so during my one-hour drive home from work a couple days ago, I was listening to public radio and heard a story about a woman who was undergoing a divorce from her spouse — another woman. (Turns out it's as hard to get a legal gay divorce as it is to get a gay marriage in some states. That's why the story…)

Partway through her narrative, this lady described how, after the wedding, she and her lover stopped at a homey little restaurant for dinner, mentioning that they had just gotten married. A few minutes later the server delighted them when he arrived with compliments from the chef and

I was really missing my Pocket PC on the drive home tonight. Not just because it’s worth a chunk of change, but because since I brought it home, I’ve stopped listening to AM radio on my twice-a-day hourly commute and during lunch.

I used to get more than two hours of talk radio piped into my cranium on a daily basis. (Not recommended for mental health, or accurate world views. You start to really believe you could refinance your home and get a loan for zero interest, that bankruptcy might actually be a way to get ahead, that the government is just waiting to throw money at me, that lasik eye-surgery is so easy any monkey can do it for peanuts, that I desperately need a heart checkup—now, that hair transplants will make me irresistibly sexy [natch, I already am!], and that technical college