I go back to work tomorrow. I wish I could take at least another day or two off, but something came up and they need me Monday.

I spent some time tackling little projects around the house. Watching This Old House for the last six months or so is paying off.

I won't post specifics in order to protect him, but I became a father this week. This is my first, a son.

Don't expect any coherence in any of this. These are just some thoughts in the order they come to me.

I read an editorial about the "child man" phenomenon and it made me mad.

I fit those stereotypes, spending most of my 20s living in an apartment surrounded by toys, in somewhat social isolation, when I was supposed to be "growing up," taking responsibility, (whatever those two things mean), getting married, and pumping out kids. I even had people telling me this back in that era.

Believe me, I wasn't living this way by choice. And it wasn't for lack of trying that I was stuck there.

So 105.7 morning DJ Donnie Fandango was distressed this morning over finding a gray hair. At 31, he's convinced (so he says) this means he's dying.

I say get used to it. I'm 32. I started going gray in the sixth grade. Since I have gray hairs that are old enough to vote, I have a hard time feeling sorry for him.

I have other worries. Like whether those gray hairs vote for Ron Paul or not.

Since the next couple of things I post aren't going to be terribly positive, I thought I'd share some dog stories.

I have a new un-friend now. His name is Melvin.

Thanks to Melvin, I can almost add library sales to places I've been kicked out of. It's a short list, but it includes the library, church, Best Buy, and substitute teacher Rick Hannebutt's seventh grade theology class.

When I read more about the perpetrator of the massacre at Virginia Tech, I thought the same things I remember thinking about Columbine. And I wasn't the only one with those thoughts. After Columbine, I was corresponding with one of my best friends from college, and she said the descriptions of those two guys really reminded her of me.

So the question then, as now, is, why am I a reasonably productive member of society while other people like me kill dozens of people?

We should have named the dog Houdini.

The first night with the dog was difficult, because she wanted to play all night. Since they told her she was crate trained, my wife went out and got a crate the next morning.

When we put her in, it took her 35 minutes flat to get out.

My wife asked me today if we could go look at dogs. We've been talking about getting one for a while. "Well," I said. "You never just look at dogs. If there's a dog there, you'll come home with one." I know these things. So I asked if we were ready if we came home with one.

She said we were. Next thing I knew, we were driving home with a dog in the back seat, trying to worm her way into the front.

On July 19, a fierce storm pounded St. Louis. At around 7 pm, the power flickered, then it went out. The sky looked threatening and the winds were relentless, so my wife and I gathered up flashlights and a portable radio and headed for the basement.

What happened next wasn't at all what we were expecting.