1. I had an idea for a column.
2. I formulated ideas for it.
3. I procrastinated.
4. I happened to get someone else's talk radio column in the e-mail.
5. The other column was about a related idea, not exactly on point but in the same category.
6. I decided to move mine in a different direction.
7. It didn't work as well.
8. I tried to go back to the original idea.
9. That didn't work well, either.
10. I wrote about 2/3 of a column anyway.
11. I decided it needed an overhaul.
12. I looked at the clock. Bedtime.

At least my deadline's flexible. Such is the nature of writing for the Internet. But that column will have to be written sometime before midday Friday, and...

Maybe I'll come up with it in my sleep. You never know.

I don't remember this show from when it was on, since it ran for only one season and I was a little too young to remember it. But it's interesting to me, because it was a nostalgic look back at the 1920's. The 1920's, even then, seemed like ancient history, but do the math: In 1961, 1921 was 40 years earlier. In 2010, the equivalent would be... 1970. Does 1970 seem to us as 1921 seemed to 1961? Sure, 1970 was all hippies and "mod" and bell bottoms and what now seems hilariously dated pop culture, but it was in color. The youth culture, as goofy as it seems now, was at least in the rock era. The 1920's were black-and-white, silent movies, cars with running boards, fashions that never came back even in an ironic or satiric manner... again, ancient history. 1970's old, but it wasn't THAT radically different.

And, of course, it doesn't seem as ancient to me because I remember it. It was pretty much "The Wonder Years." And it was in color, on TV and in my memory. But gaps between generations are interesting to me: in 1961, I was a toddler, but the 1940s were just 20 years or fewer earlier. 1941 was to 1961 as 1990 is to today. But 1940 was (for most people) pre-TV, pre-rock 'n' roll, pre-suburbs and shopping malls and civil rights. 1990 isn't all that different from now. Popular culture isn't moving as fast anymore; what was popular in 1990 wouldn't look out of place today, but what was popular in 1940 was comical and old by 1960. Time's moving at the same breakneck speed, but culture isn't. There hasn't been a groundbreaking, truly different cultural movement since, say, hip-hop, and that was almost 30 years ago. Grunge came and went, disco never really left, but Lady Gaga's just Madonna and nothing new's happening. The real revolution today is technical, but the content isn't anything radical.

We're overdue.

That's my excuse.

Yeah, that's what I did. It had been about three years since the last one, and I was wondering if my eyesight was a little worse for age, so I figured I'd go down to Costco and get an exam and maybe a new pair of glasses to replace the readers I presently wear. So I did the whole thing, including getting pictures taken of my retinas.

The result: Nothing has much changed. Distance sight is still pretty close to perfect, close up still sucks, so readers it is. I ordered new ones for use at the computer, with progressive lenses so I don't have to keep taking them off, but that's it. I admit that I expected worse, but I can't argue with the exam, and the retinal photos showed a couple of healthy eyes, so... I'll take it.

And that was the excitement for the day. I was out of the office when Matt Garza threw his no-hitter; I discovered the news when checking Twitter on my cell phone. This is getting ridiculous, all these no-hitters and near-no-hitters. Ridiculous, too, is the nightly Brad Lidge Scares the Hell Out Of Me "save" situation, today's starting with a three run lead and ending with a one-run lead and the bases loaded. It wouldn't be a Brad Lidge save if it was easy. The consolation is that the last time he actually DID get saves this way, the Phillies won the World Series. Not that the season has that feel to it, but you never know.

The new season opened with an episode about very little other than Don Draper's creepy, unpleasant life, including tension with the ex, a resistance to being set up on dates, Thanksgiving with a prostitute, and how he (and the new firm) pay for his unwillingness to open up to the press. It appears to be late 1964 -- the civil rights murders in Mississippi are referenced, styles are a hair more modern -- and the episode mostly focused on establishing Don's bad attitude and its effect on Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, plus showing off how far the firm has developed in a year. There's an office in the Time-Life Building, but there's no conference room table -- there's barely a conference room. Joan's in charge of practically everything, just like old times, and Peggy's more assertive, to her peril (in a subplot involving throwing a publicity stunt that nearly backfires and draws the ire of an annoyed Draper). There was plenty about Betty Draper's new life, which just added further misery to the proceedings. Nobody's happy there, not the kids, not the ad agency people, not the clients.

But it's nice to have the show back. As always, even when an episode doesn't move things along too far, it's still interesting, and it seems like part of a larger story. It's still an open question when Don's fall from grace will accelerate, but the divorce and his work difficulties seem to be pointing to the time bomb getting closer to exploding. At the moment, "Mad" doesn't seem an apt adjective for the primary character. You wouldn't be watching it if it was "Miserable Man," though.

Good thing I have nothing to say tonight. Not that this has ever been a barrier to getting a column done. But I'm just lazy at the moment, so I'll just go back to the movie. I know, I ought to get my ass in gear and all that. But I suppose I just need more motivation. Wanna send me a check?

I oughta do something about it.

Tomorrow.

Sometimes, procrastination takes over. The Internet doesn't help that. There are so many options for not writing. Thursday has Drew Magary's column at Deadspin, so that takes time. The Phillies played a day game, so there was that. I found out when paying my cell phone bill that I'm eligible for a big upgrade phone discount on August 1st, so there was reading to do and research to perform. The Talk Topics column always has additional stories to add, and there were news stories to write, messages to read, so much to do. Food, too, courtesy of a recent Trader Joe's run.

So getting started is difficult. Writing is agonizing, because no paragraph is ever just right. But deadlines are deadlines, and, ultimately, I have to say, well, it's good enough, and send it in. If I wait to get it just right, I'll never finish.

So it's not just right. But if Good Enough will get me away from this computer and into bed faster, Good Enough is good enough.

My hosting ISP can't explain why Movable Type crashes when trying to post articles. Its error message claims that there are too many (20 or more) processes going, but there aren't; it's a server-side problem, and they can't explain it. That's not acceptable.

My cell phone drops calls. It drops data. It heats up to the point that the coating on the battery cover has melted off. That's not acceptable.

But... I accept all of it.

Why? Because there's no winning. Verizon may be unresponsive, but the alternatives are Cox or satellite, and I've been through both with similar results. The hosting service may not have any answers, but other ISPs are no better, and more expensive. Sprint sucks, but AT&T sucks worse, T-Mobile's coverage is not good here, and Verizon Wireless coverage isn't the best here PLUS it's way expensive. I've already changed cable/phone/ISP service within the past 12 months, and I'm not eager to do that again.

Believe me, if changing providers would make a difference, I'd change providers. And I might still do that. But I'm frustrated that choice hasn't resulted in better service, or even lower prices. And that's how I end up accepting the unacceptable. There's no acceptable alternative,

I've always taken time to go to the gym, even at my least in-shape a few years back. I was raised going to the gym my father ran in Fair Lawn, New Jersey, shooting basketballs, running laps, and spending quality time with my dad. Later, after he retired from that, we'd go to the Y in Wayne, shoot hoops (my dad was deadly from long range well into his 60's), run on the indoor track, take a schvitz.

It's 30 years later and I still love that, but instead of being the kid, I'm the older guy, not quite a senior but definitely not up for the pickup games. A couple of guys with grey hair, regulars in the weight room, were talking about coming out to the gym and crediting it with still being around when so many of their contemporaries aren't. Their lips to God's ears; I'm still hitting the weights, trotting around the track, lumbering on the elliptical, and plodding around the Peninsula in the morning. Maybe it doesn't matter, maybe it won't be the key to health, but I'll keep at it.

It couldn't hurt.

Okay, it hurts a little. But it's a good hurt.

Grr.

That's radio programming and management legend John Gehron on the left, former KSTP-AM Twin Cities host and current KS-95 weekender Chris Murphy in the middle, and some guy on the right. Okay, it's me, and, yes, I was wearing a Twins t-shirt because a) it was a gift from Chris and b) it helped me blend in with the locals, 90% of whom were wearing Twins gear. It's also a nice t-shirt. I'm still a Phillies fan, period. I trust I'll be forgiven (and, personal to Joe: If I hear one word about this, I'll point out your ownership of a wide range of caps and gear from teams not indigenous to Philadelphia. Glass houses and all that).

The convention wound up with Mr. Gehron putting me on a panel as a last-minute addition, and I guess I did okay, because all you have to do when you're on a panel is to be a loudmouth blowhard contrarian curmudgeon and you'll do fine. That's my forte.

And then there was a tornado watch, and that's where I am now, waiting for the rain to hit again and watching the TV news go all freaky over the storms. Not that I blame anyone for freaking out when a tornado hits. I'm not a fan of tornadoes. I like this area a lot, but I'm ready to go home.

Welcome to Target Field, new home of the Minnesota Twins. They played the White Sox tonight and won 7-4, despite a shaky ninth. I was there courtesy of Chris Murphy, talk show host, accompanied by John Gehron, radio programming legend. Hard to beat that.

You know how Deadspin has those photo montages of guys with embarrassing names on the back of their jerseys? Meet Not-The-Late-Kirby-Puckett:

Nope, don't get it. Don't want to, actually.

The view from the upper deck:

Not bad, but the ticket says "Skyline View," and skyline view it is:

IDS Center off to the right with the antennae on top, Target Center, home of the Minnesota Timberwolves, to the lower right. Hey, look closer at center field:

It's Minnie and Paul! Created by a guy named Ray Barton for the patch on the shoulder of the Twins' original uniforms in 1961, and still around today. After dark, they glow:

Oh, and they shake hands, too. Love 'em.

Wait, where did everybody go?

Game over. What, you want game action? Yeah, I'm gonna get game pictures with a pocket camera from the top of the stadium. Sure.

Great time, though. They did a great job on the park, too. Almost forgot about the convention there, and that's always a good thing.

Target Field tomorrow. I'll try to remember the cameras.

By "I'm here," I mean literally here, a few miles down the road from downtown Minneapolis. So close, yet so far. I'm in a commercial area along the freeway, and while there are conveniences within a short walk -- everything from a supermarket and nice restaurants and bars to Costco and Dairy Queen -- but there's nothing like downtown. I was downtown for a few minutes along the way here, taking the light rail to the Warehouse District to grab the shuttle to the hotel, and downtown had life, people milling around, bars and clubs everywhere, that real-city feeling. Out here, it's suburbia. No matter; I'll be in meeting rooms all day for the next few days anyway. And I WILL go to Target Field downtown to see the Twins and White Sox at least once and maybe more, so I can deal with it.

But before then, I have to get used to the weather. I was greeted by a violent rainstorm, there were tornado warnings on the radio, and the heat and humidity are both high, practically Miami in August. I am no longer built to take this kind of constant sweating. Two showers this afternoon and it's still sticky.

And, oh, yeah, Delta Airlines: Thanks for the offer of in-flight Wi-Fi, but, geez, can you maybe put in some power ports, too? Unless you have iPad battery life, using Wi-Fi on board won't last all the way from LAX to MSP. Take care of that, please. Thank you.