I'm still trying to get used to how people drive in the area where I'm working now. It's not the aggressive driving I'm used to in downtown Phoenix. This is just plain stupid driving. Either that, or they're giving driver's licenses to the blind out here.

This week's monsoon clouds have been a nice change of pace. But I'd have to say my hair prefers when it's a dry heat.

I joined a group of friends for night golfing a couple of weeks ago - a nice enough concept, since it allows people to enjoy the game without having to endure the oppressive heat of summer daylight hours. The course provided lighting at the pins and gave us glow-in-the-dark balls, but these gestures proved to be hardly sufficient to compensate for the darkness. I could barely see my clubs, and wound up completely missing the ball - repeatedly. I haven't played so poorly since junior high school.

So I had to laugh when I read a quote by Christian author John Ortberg a few days later, in response to a question about whether there would be golf in heaven: "We know in heaven that there will be no lying, no swearing, no cheating - so how can there be any golf? There will be no golf in heaven. Tennis yes, but no golf."

Looks like Joe Arpaio's Tent City is the place to be tonight.

A co-worker whose last name is Sanders rolled his eyes as he told me about countless people who crack themselves up by calling him Colonel Sanders, each one thinking they're being original. My friend Kelly frequently has to endure the "Kelly, Kelly, Kelly, Kelly" song from Cheers. Another friend, Marsha, charges people a dollar if they insist on addressing her as "Marcia, Marcia, Marcia."

So if you know anyone whose name calls to mind a pop-culture reference, you might as well spare them any jokes that come to mind. Without a doubt, the person's already heard them all. (I have to admit, though, sometimes it's hard to resist that catchy "Kelly" song.)

From the book of snappy comebacks:
Q: How are you getting to the airport?
A: I'm flying to one of them.