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OK, I'm officially sans mind.

I loaded this onto my Treo cell phone.

Cell phone Sudoku. I am pathetic.

At least I admit it.

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A billion dollars.

The Giants and Jets are jointly going to build a stadium in the Meadowlands and it's going to cost a billion dollars.

The teams are going to pay the billion, but the taxpayers are going to pay about a quarter billion to build a train link and other infrastructure improvements. And the acting Governor says that this is a fabulous deal for the taxpayers.

Uh huh.

I grew up about 15 miles or so from that spot. Here's the number of NFL games I've been able to buy tickets to see there in my lifetime: Zero. NFL games are overpriced, and Giants and Jets tickets are impossible to get unless you pay scalpers ridiculous prices.

Great deal. Fabulous deal. The taxpayers are getting a bargain. And they'll reap the benefit by being able to see zero games in person. That quarter-million in taxes (which will grow over time, of course) will buy a palace for other people to use, just like most other stadium deals. If you have an HDTV, your tax money will be buying a pretty studio for those sharp live pictures.

And it's not like other jurisdictions are clamoring for the teams: Manhattan never could get its act together for the Jets stadium. Los Angeles is, of course, being touted as one of those "other jurisdictions" ripe for the NFL to move a franchise to... or, more accurately, to use as a bargaining chip to sucker San Diego and New Orleans and Minnesota into ponying up for new stadiums at taxpayer expense. Good thing people here have no intention of spending a penny of public funds on an NFL stadium, and would vote out any politician who tried to pull that off. But I keep waiting for other cities to stop flinging your and my money at sports franchises that DON'T NEED THE MONEY, and I keep waiting, and keep waiting, and meanwhile places like San Antonio and Portland and Las Vegas are so desperate to be one of the Big Boys that they play along and flirt and provide teams like the Saints and Marlins with the fodder they need to extract public funds for their own palaces back home.

You know, I thought sure that after the NHL job action/strike/lockout, after cities found their hockey palaces dark for a whole season, after the fans finally got screwed to an extreme, that the public madness over sports spending would finally end. But the idiots are back in the seats, the politicians are still using sports to placate the masses, and cities and states are still spending fortunes on buildings most people will never be able to afford to use. Sometimes I wonder why I'm still a sports fan.

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No time today, and I have a headache.

Go here and crank the volume to 11. Complaints will be ignored.

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Oh, yeah, you missed me on WNAX Yankton, SD today, chatting with Jake Weber about "Brokeback Mountain," Tookie, Christmas, and the AirTran Wendy's deal. You missed it because I forgot to tell you about it, and because they don't stream. But you can hear the station throughout the upper Midwest at 570 AM. (And for folks who are here because of the WNAX segment, hello and also register (for free) at AllAccess.com and check out Talk Topics in the News-Talk-Sports section, which is where the stuff we talked about is covered and then some)

I'll remember next time.

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Took the car in for maintenance and to fix a few minor problems.

A thousand bucks.

Granted, that includes both rear brakes, the timing belt replacement, an air conditioner problem, and several other fixes, some important, some just nagging. And my mechanic's good- always does a great job, doesn't fake problems to make more money. I expected it to be this expensive, because I'd put off some of it for a long time.

But a thousand bucks. Yow.

I'd be nostalgic for the days when I didn't own or need a car. I lived in subirban Philadelphia back then, a block away from the train station. With a monthly pass, I could hop the train to go anywhere. And where that train didn't go, SEPTA buses and the old P&W trolley did. Ah, the good old days.

And then I remember that I had to be on the last train back or I'd be stuck- that meant no later than the midnight train from Center City, or 1 am from Upper Darby on the trolley. And even buying food was a chore- I had to get one of those old-people folding carts to lug stuff home from the Acme. And I longed for a car, any car, a car to bring me freedom, to let me go anywhere I wanted, to be able to go places and do things without worrying about monthly passes and last trains out and long walks from the station.

Now, I have that car, and I'm still complaining. Some people are never happy. Thousand dollar car repair bills will do that to you.

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We got our tip shopping done today. This involves running around buying gift cards for the folks you're supposed to tip- the mailman, the newspaper delivery people, the pool guy, and many more. Tips are important because I already spend an arm and a leg on services, and therefore must spend more.

Uh, wait.

But you have to do it. It's the law, sort of. And since we don't celebrate Christmas, we don't hit the stores to buy gifts like, it appears, the rest of the free world. It appears so because tonight, a Thursday evening, the line at the Best Buy stretched for a mile or so, and they didn't even have any Xbox 360s for sale. In fact, I didn't see anyone buying anything all that huge- a DVD or two here, a video game there, that's about it. Nobody was pushing a plasma TV through the checkstands, nobody was wheeling a cart with a computer on it in the queue. Same at Borders- people were buying just your basic one or two books. In fact, we appeared to be the only ones on each long line who were buying gift cards. Where are all the gifts?

(And nobody was out there buying US gifts. We tip to show appreciation for good service; shouldn't the service people be tipping US to show THEIR appreciation for OUR business? Just asking.)

I don't know about anyone else, but I think the gift card is a great invention, even if it's a bastardization of the gift certificate concept. When you cashed in a gift certificate, you could, say, buy something worth $10. with a $50. gift certificate and pocket the excess $40. With a gift card, you still have $40. on the card, but no cash. But if you're GIVING the card, that's not your problem. And you have to fill out gift certificates and they're a pain in the ass, but the cards are easy- they come pretty much gift wrapped. You run out when the pool guy shows up, you hand it to him, you're done.

What happens if you don't tip? Do the papers end up in the sprinkler? (They do anyway) Does the pool get a green film on top? (Been there) Do you start getting mail intended for someone in Australia? (See December 9)

Well, of COURSE I'm too much of a wuss to find out. And that's why we spent the evening on the Neverending Lines waiting to hand our money over to be converted into plastic that will be handed to a bunch of people who we don't really know and who don't even remember who we are.

Hey, it's tradition.

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Oh, come on, I had to be up at 2:55 this morning to cover Howard "I am the last of a dying breed" Stern saying "I am the last of a dying breed" over and over and over except when he said "you are the last of a dying breed" or "he's the last of a dying breed," to the point where my brain actually started to seep through my eardrums and sinuses, and then I had to work a long day as the only person on duty at All Access (OK, Kelly Daniel wrote a few country format stories, too, but otherwise I was the whole staff), and then I had to run out and handle several errands and I just got back and it's 9:40 pm and you expect me to write something coherent?

I can't. I'm the last of a dying breed, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. Howard, who I thought fancied himself as FIRST of his breed- he invented shock jockery, humor, and breathing, you know- sure as hell doesn't.

Time for sleep. G'night.

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Here's an exclusive peek at the deleted "alternate ending" of "Brokeback Mountain." In this version, Heath Ledger (right) takes drastic action when Jake Gyllenhall (left), preparing to take the next train home, tells him they must never see each other again.

(You can buy the above image here, although $895. for a cel that wasn't even actually used for a cartoon is a little, um, steep)

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