Traffic reports

First, welcome any Wiredlings who visit, now so many of us have been aggregated by Adam Powell at:

http://wiredminds.typepad.com/

I hope to post more on technology topics pretty soon, as more and more friends seem to be headed back to start-up land. One I commend to all of you is Mike Lanza's Click TV at:

http://www.click.tv/

Ever since the advent of email, I love the way old friends and contacts track me down, and vice versa. Just today I heard from one of the professors at the Media Leaders Forum at LSU that I was part of back in my days at Salon. We'd been out of touch for probably 8 years; I think she must have found me through wikipedia. In any event, I accepted her invitation to be a guest lecturer at their Baton Rouge campus for a few days. Should be fun.

I've really screwed up this year in brand new ways. Missed the IRS filing deadline for the first time. Forgot to pay my cell phone bill; they freeze those numbers really fast. Skipped car maintenance for 8,000 miles. Got lucky there; the vehicle shows no signs of damage from my neglect.

Maybe it operates on remote control anyway. Yesterday morning, taking a different route in order to reach Colma (a city with many more dead people than the live kind), which is where the dealership is located, my car locked onto a certain vehicle and just followed it through traffic, changing lanes, all the way there.

I was listening to NPR, chewing gum, and paying zero attention. As we reached the Colma exit, I suddenly felt a strange self-awareness of what I had beeen doing. I'd been locked on like a tracker behind a beautiful peppercorn-colored Mini.

Guess my modest little sedan, like a puppy seeking its mother, tapped into its memory bank, and thought it had found its long-lost friend, the one whose rear bumper it always kissed when we shared that tight little parking spot on 27th.

And, from the title, of this, you thought I was going to talk about page views?



That's one cute butt. (That must be my car talking.)