After my rant on dog walkers sans poop picker-uppers, I figured there would be some fallout (so to speak). And the readers did not disappoint.

The first communication came in the form a phone call from brother Mark in Texas. He reported, "The dog gods must know I'm your brother! I went out to the mail box this morning and was greeted by a large fresh present."

One of my neighbors across the ditch let me know he would now walk his dog back and forth in front of my house until, well, you know. More than one reader warned me I would most likely have a lot more of the stuff in my yard from now on.

As I turned onto Fort Street from 27th Street and settled into my single-file lane, a sign in the vacant lot caught my eye. But this wasn't a stop sign at the end of a one-block street leading to a dead-end, nor a no U-turn sign on a one-way street, this was a sign I enthusiastically can support. So much so, that I called Mayor Barb Wasinger and e-mailed City Manager Toby Dougherty and thanked them.

Tuesday night was a historical night for our nation. An African-American will run for president. Sen. Barack Obama promises change.

Sen. John McCain also promises change. I doubt we'll see much difference in a "McBush" victory, except for the name change on the oval office door.

By the time you read this blog, the race will be over. The race for the Democratic presidential nomination? No. No. The race for the next American Idol. I always thought the whole premise for Idol was a little hokey, at best. For whatever reason, I kinda got hooked about a month ago.

Who needs ideas for columns when one has Mel Neufeld as Kansas Speaker of the House? Last year, Republicans elected one of the few legislators that could make one pine for the days of Doug Mays.

Under Neufeld's "leadership," the entire session has been held hostage by the coal issue. Although the governor has vetoed two bills already, and her veto has been kept from being overridden twice, guess what's holding up adjournment? You guessed it; a third coal bill, much like the two first bills. Gosh, I wonder what the governor will do with the third bill?

By the time you read this, the Legislature might be adjourned until Sine Die (I defined this term years ago. It's Latin for one last per diem/mileage check)...

Perhaps it's because our Hays High School Class of 1973 is beginning to plan our 35th reunion, but I've been feeling a bit nostalgic lately. Or maybe it was the nostalgia of $3 a gallon gas; as I had the opportunity to purchase $3.39 a gallon gas yesterday, with the expectations of $4 gas in the near future.

Maybe it's the fact that son Craig turns 26 today. It doesn't seem that long ago, I was dropping him off at kindergarten; wiping a tear from my eye as he bolted for the south door of Jefferson School for his first day of school. Realizing that son Kevin's wedding is but two months away. And in less then a month, our baby, Michelle, graduates from Fort Hays State University.

Part of it was remembering more stories from our Phoenix vacation. I mentioned meeting Ben Koerner, but we also met his daughter, Kennedy. She made me miss another young lady with the same name but a different spelling.

I remembered sitting on the plane to return to Denver.

For those of you who are sick and tired of the cold, rain, sleet, snow, wind, et. al. in Kansas, may I suggest Phoenix? The five days Michelle, Dottie and I spent there last week were perfect; I mean, if you like 70- and 80-degree weather with barely a hint of wind.

We traveled out west to attend the wedding of our niece, Kelsey Stephens and Steve Cohen. The wedding was held outside directly next to a country club golf course. The priest welcomed us to the wedding on a "breezy afternoon." The wind was blowing about 5 mph (at the most). I told someone sitting behind me that if an outdoor wedding was held in Kansas, the wind would be blowing 40 mph and people would say, "At least the wind didn't come up like it was supposed to."

The wedding ceremony was a Jewish/Catholic ceremony officiated by a Catholic priest...

For those of you (in my locale of course) who attended the Encore Series production of the Paragon Orchestra Tuesday night, I hope you were as pleasantly surprised as myself. I must say it was one of those offerings I figured to be on my way at intermission. The orchestra and 1920 silent production of "The Mark of Zorro" were featured with brief history lessons given by conductor Rick Benjamin. The movie defines swashbuckler.

Fifty-five hundred bucks an hour! I'm doing something wrong?

Fifty-five hundred bucks an hour for sex. I have a confession to make. I like sex. But, in all my research on this favored subject, I've never ever thought, "now that was worth fifty-five hundred bucks" -- with all due respect to my lovely wife, who I'm sure would pay me the same respect. That being said, if there is sex worth over five thousand dollars an hour, maybe I'm doing something wrong.

This all came to light the past few days with the publication of the sexual habits of Gov. Eliot Spitzer. The law-and-order prosecutor and governor was nicknamed Eliot Ness; now it may be changed to Eliot Mess.

Check out the McSame As Bush: