Got word this morning that a vehicle containing two weblog readers, who shall remain anonymous, was hit from behind at a stoplight yesterday by a woman who was, you guessed it, talking on a cell phone. Cell phones are worse than booze, I tell you! Serious damage to the vehicle, little more than sore necks for the six passengers in the car. Bloody nose for the woman on the phone. Lesson learned, I hope.

Well, the Twins and Johan Santana got bombed. So much for the thrill of Opening Day!

Leo and I rushed back from Grand Forks to get home in time for the first pitch. As we proceeded down Highway 102 from Crookston to Fertile, we encountered what looked to be a shattered windshield lying in the middle of our lane. There was no avoiding it. I straddled the worst of it, worried a bit about a flat, and forgot about it.

Leo and I went to Grand Forks to get him a Social Security number yesterday. He told somebody today, "Now I am American!" Well, it will take a while to get an actual number since Homeland Security has to make sure he's not going to bomb anything first.