What do you say when your coherent thoughts are at a loss? Nothing? That's defeatist. That's giving in to the evil doers, people in power, and the status quo. Better to just keep writing (typing, really) until you're at the bottom of the page.

It's not that there is nothing to say, but rather that the opinions have already been stated, both emphatically & subtly. What else can I say about the administration? They have given more than ample fodder for anyone to agree or disagree with their incompetence. Even Republicans have to decide whether they will side with The Bush for their re-election campaigns. Trust me, they would all rather keep their jobs than take a stand. I'd wager 95 percent of America is the same way.

And what about your job? What about your lifestyle? What about everything you sacrifice and resources you consume to keep fueling the way that you live? How many miles do you drive make it to one specific building? How many miles to get back to that specific box where you feel comfortable at the end of the day? What do you really think about all those square miles in between the two places. Do you care about them at all? Or is it just dot 1 and dot 2 and the line in between? With all that traveling, where are you really going? Go to work, go home.

I see it in their eyes. I see it so much that I don't know what I'm supposed to say when they look back. One night, I make a move. It seems to be going well, then it seems to fall apart. All in the matter of five minutes. The next night, I see the signs. Make a move, I think to myself. But then I remember the night before. I saw it in their eyes yesterday, and remember what happened. Just leave it alone. It's better to just keep your mouth shut and leave it alone. Later on, I kick myself for leaving it alone. So what's better: Making a move and receiving that brutal rejection, or leaving it alone and having no one to blame but yourself? It's a judgment call, and no one has ever accused me of being a judge.

Then there's the piece of paper I got when I went into work. The City of Albuquerque has issued me a ticket. The ticket concerned an incident three week prior for an infraction I can't quite understand or remember. The piece of paper has a picture of my cab braking in a school zone. No children are present, the nearest car is three lengths away from me, and I'm braking. The line on the page states that traffic radar determined my speed to be 24 MPH in a zone posted at 15 MPH. My options are to pay the $100 ticket (and if they catch me again it would be $250), claim someone else was driving my car (not likely), or contest the fine on the basis that the evidence does not show a violation was committed. The thing that bothers me is that there is no human police element present at the time of the so-called infraction. No one actually saw me do this infraction I can't remember! Their evidence is a picture of me braking and driving quite safely. The radar number is from some machine. This is some Big Brother bullshit, and I don't like it. I'm requesting a hearing. Let's hear what a real life judge has to say about this bogus crap.

Speaking of crap, that's what's in my head right now. Due to spring's quick return & rehearsing a play with coughing kids, I have succumbed to the sickness. You can live as healthy of a life as you want, but it is no match for the disease of bright-eyed children. The head is clogged, the right eye leaks, the throat is sore, and I had to sing & play three songs at a hip hop tribute last night. I tried all the home remedies I could muster. Everything worked for a little while, but nothing was a cure. That statement could be extrapolated for just about everything I've experienced in my life. My last attempt (double whiskey on the rocks) got me through the three songs without to much squawking. It's the sickest I've ever performed in public, and no one seemed to mind too much. One thing I will say about the American public, we do take it all in stride.

That's it! That's the overarching point of this meandering little yarn. For better and for worse, we Americans take it all in stride. We get thrown a curve ball every day when we want nothing but fast balls. Yet we keep swinging away until we either connect or whiff at strike three and head back to bench. Hey, Spring Training just started...no, no, just wrap it up. You've got months & months to use your baseball metaphors, and it's probably best just to say Take It All In Stride.

Chris Jungle remembers very little from the column he just wrote.