Beach blanket bingo

We're going to the beach. We're taking blankets. We might play bingo. So, there you go.

We'll be taking a brief-but-well-deserved family vacation over the next few days, packing up the twin Subarus and the two dogs and TheBoy and dragging our sorry selves to the ocean. The Pacific Ocean. Which means it will probably be too cold to swim, but at least they have sand to dig in and neat rocks to stare at. And brewpubs, because this is Oregon.

Until we get back, a few questions to ponder:

- Why are bloggers so mean and self-righteous and mean? I don't like to talk about my work here because, quite honestly, it would bore you, but . . . Today, a blogger accused me of making up details of a conversation I reported. Then, hours later, he emailed me in a very friendly way to find out whether I'd actually witnessed what I suggested I witnessed. Uh, yeah. It involved some very highly technical reporting: I stood there. I watched two people interact. I took notes. Ass.

- Is Cindy Sheehan being used? I fear I think the answer is 'yes.'

- Is the Casey-Santorum Senate race the most important one in the country next year? Does anyone out there care?

- Was John Roberts right in recommending that Reagan not give a big Gipper seal of approval to Michael Jackson those many years ago?

- Can the Yankees close the gap? Will they ever stop wasting good pitching performances?

- Will I make it through a weekend with my spouse, my mother-in-law, my sister-in-law, two nieces, one nephew and TheBoy without losing my mind?

Talk amongst yourselves. We'll be back. We love you all. Tip your waiters.