Call it a coincidence, but driving along this time of year I always notice an increase in wild turkey crossings. Today it occurred to me that perhaps they’re not wild at all—rather, they are a band of local farm turkey refugees. I was contemplating a phone call to Flamig Farm, but let’s face it: as much as we all love gobbling down those Thanksgiving turkeys, we’re still rooting for them at the same time.

Today my father was reflecting on what it’s like to get old. “I still feel great,” he said. “But my mind is starting to go. Sometimes I’ll be talking and lose track of what I was saying. Or I’ll look for something and forget what I was looking for…”

Isn’t that one of life’s strange little twists?  Fifteen years after I move out of my parents’ house, we finally understand each other.

Lately I’ve noticed a feature on facebook that allows stalkers to “browse friendships”—where we may enter any two friends and see every little comment and wall post between them. In other words, the creators of facebook have found a way to set up illicit affairs and expose them at the same time.

The social media is about to get a lot more interesting.

While stuck behind a truck reading “Svedka…voted #1 vodka of 2033,” I decided the guy behind that slogan was (a) an optimist; (b) a fortune-teller; or (c) or a drunk. Whatever the case, it’s that kind of forward thinking that drives procrastinators like me to drinking. Why is a vodka company so ahead of the game, while I’m still trying to get psyched up for spring cleaning, 2005-10?