This makes sense, but I'd never considered that hurricane names may be retired.

The only time that there is a change is if a storm is so deadly or costly that the future use of its name on a different storm would be inappropriate for obvious reasons of sensitivity. If that occurs, then at an annual meeting by the committee (called primarily to discuss many other issues) the offending name is stricken from the list and another name is selected to replace it.

Carla, Agnes, Hugo, Andrew, and of course, Katrina are part of the list.

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The Pine Blogger vents some suburban rage for all of us:

I look forward to everything about Christmas-except getting my kids toys out of the boxes. It is inevitable that something will either be bleeding or broken by the time I'm finished. My thoughts while opening the packages are that the people/machines who wrapped them in a factory in some Asian communist country represent the purest form of evil.

We've taken to opening the hot gifts and removing all the crap first, including the dozen or more metal twisties that hold everything *just so* in the box.

But hey, at least I'm not digging a ditch.

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The pangs have begun; withdrawal, denial, then dark anger, an entire winter to consider my loss and rejection. February 7th is a long time away. Must attend to the rending of garments straightaway, though, what with all of the gnashing, wailing, and sackcloth to be donned.

Ahem. Quite.

The Wife had a Girl Scout commitment, so I had the girls for the evening. We had dancing between dinner and bedtime, silly and unembarrassed dancing, since no one was looking. We were treated to a couple of rounds of Kraftwerk, some Depeche Mode, and then they learned how to mosh to Ratt (I canna deny my love for the 80's). XM Radio once again adds to my day. At least the peals of their merry laughter drowned out the questionable lyrics of the Damned. Catchy tchune, though, I mean, if you're into that sort of thing. Not that there's anything wrong with it.

'Twas a meaningful ending to an uneven day. The signature of some workdays is progress made, collaboration, well, collaborated, or even complete wreckage which leaves you stumbling out to the car shell-shocked. All are recognizable and easily filed into their proper slots. Today was filled with aimless switching among the blogs, tapping the bar for another email pellet, and waiting for the shoe to drop on a 'situation'. It did. Order has now been restored and all know their place in the machine.

Sometimes you're the hammer and sometimes you're the anvil.

Tomorrow's efforts will have more purpose, I'm even double-booked for meetings where I'm truly needed. Hurray for the even keel.

Oh, jocularity, why hast thou forsaken us?

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Inscrutable Adult Duty #38 (I'm sure that's how it appears to the children) completed at the nearby firehouse. Ran into the incomparable and Only Democrat I Ever Voted For, Bruce Roemmelt, who was manning the gauntlet outside the door.

Lines were long at the polls, even at 9:45AM, and the man directing traffic inside said the turnout had been solid. Our elecronic voting machines and smart cards seemed to work well. A few people kvetched about the location changing, but five minutes online or even looking at your card would have saved you the trip to the old place.

My afternoon:

We see his book. The page has written on it:

1265 Riverside Drive
Toluca Lake
1 body (no head)
Bloody shot-up car
Jules (black)

He writes:

Vincent (Dean Martin)
Jimmie (house)
Bonnie (9:30)

Election returns at hand. Ta, for now.

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I did get a little charge during the fueling stop, given the hostage situation that occurred there earlier this year. You never know whom you might brush up against. That "On The Run" market has been rebranded "On The Lam" by my tribe.

There was also a distinct lack of jocularity today.

I know I run the risk of becoming a complete bore, so I pocketed the four Through-The-Viewfinder shots of Autumn leaves last night. Dead horse and all. Yeah, yeah, we all have the seasons, so perhaps another time. Instead: this gripping account!

Tomorrow, parent-teacher conference and with much restraint and lack of kookiness will I mention the school's posting of kid's birthdays and full names on a website. It's been pulled given my note which used words like "unconscionable".

Hack-hack. Zot. Ow.

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