A few years back, I swore if I ever got famous, I'd sign every autograph and respond to every piece of fan mail I received. I'm certainly not famous (though I did discover Connie's article was cut out of the Indy Star and now sits on the Lt. Governor of Indiana's desk), and I fell well short of that goal. Finals--and the conclusion of classes, ensuing relief/joy/time on the golf course--take a toll on free time given to aimlessly browse the political interwebs, and rant mildly and answer reader questions.
At the moment, I'm knee-deep in questions and e-mails, reading through them, and attempting to figure out exactly what I've gotten myself into. Tomorrow, I'll try to have another "Mailbag" segment up--and possibly shed some thinking on Dale Peterson, and share my priceless reaction upon viewing the best advertisement for anything I've ever set eyes upon.
Rather than humiliate myself with incoherent thought and poor grammar at this late hour, we shall call it a night.
God Bless, Friends.