Sometimes it seems like life's problems are about to swallow us whole and we wonder if we'll survive. Then we meet someone who has real problems.

When does the pain of a father's death ever end? Especially when that father dies at a especially cruel young age?

I had a lot in common with Jason.

Steve DeLassus e-mailed me with a computer question. I think he just wanted someone to confirm whether his reaction was right. And it really got me thinking hard.

I didn't go see Emily on Wednesday night. Instead I went to see From Hell with my friends Jeanne and Tom. The theory it presented was interesting, but anyone who knows anything about Jack the Ripper knows it played awfully fast and loose with the facts. I can't say much more without spoiling it. I'd have gone to see it just because of my fascination with Film Noir, but From Hell seemed to me like an excuse to show a bunch of closeups of Johnny Depp and shots of Heather Graham dressed up like people imagine turn-of-the-century prostitutes looking. In other words, too much oogle and not enough plot. I think the directors realized this wasn't enough, so they added a sex scene and a few female-female French kisses. And of course lots of blood. I'd have preferred a less-predictable storyline and a little more intrigue.

I saw Emily again last night. My heart sank a little when they said at the front desk she was still in ICU, but Emily was a lot better yesterday. She was much more alert, and I saw her give a couple of people dirty looks, including me. She talked about the people who came to see her. She remembered me coming to see her, but she thought it was during the day rather than Monday night. Narcotics do that, and she's still on strong stuff. I'm surprised how much she remembers from yesterday, but I doubt she'll remember a whole lot a week from now. I know when I've messed myself up seriously, codeine seriously killed the flashbulb effect, and she's on stronger stuff than codeine.

I went and saw Emily last night. She was beat up, but not as badly as you'd expect someone who'd been thrown from a car to be. She was still in ICU because they're worried about her spleen. She was in pretty good spirits considering everything she'd been through in the past 36 hours.

Yesterday morning I needed my checkbook. I pulled it out of my desk drawer and set it on my chair for safekeeping. Then something else crossed my mind for a minute, distracting me. Then I remembered I needed my checkbook. I turned back to my open desk drawer, dug around for it, and got frustrated. Where else could my checkbook be?

Father's Day... Go find your dad and thank him. If he's not around anymore, like mine, remember the things he taught you. And use them.