The Gadfly Climbing The Wall

Wasted Days, Wasted Nights: A hospital emergency room is no place to be at midnight. Allergy-induced acute bronchitis. ("You cannot rake leaves!" said the doctor with emphasis. "And no more shell fish!" added Mrs. McC. Asked a daughter: "Are you allergic to everything?") Better living through pharmaceuticals: antibiotics and 'roids.

I Feel Good: Get ready, Kevin Dooooo-rant of the Oklahoma City Thunder. Although I'm half your size (if that), I'm ready to slam-dunk you in The Lost Ogle's mock match-up pitting me against thee in their Ogle Madness pseudo-basketball head-to-head competition, the "Oklahoma Celebrity Tournament." The voting in my bracket hasn't started yet, but the brackets can be viewed at The Lost Ogle. (And if you beat me...well, that's to be expected.)

Only You: Ann and I just marked 47 years together. Three more and she's a keeper. (Or is it vice-versa?)

Fly Me To The Moon: Nancy Pelosi, on an Air Force jet. Please.

Send In The Clowns: Way too much Nanny State legislation being debated here, and in Washington.

Pipes And Drums: There is reason to believe that the origin of the bag-pipe must be sought in remote antiquity, but all that matters to me is that the bags and pipes come sweeping through Bricktown Saturday afternoon during the 27th Annual St. Patrick's Day Parade (1 p.m.). It's my 13th (I think) parade as co-master of ceremonies. I'll be the little guy wearing the green bowler.

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