A co-worker and I were talking about favorite childhood TV shows. My top five, in no particular order:

• Leave it to Beaver
  
• Little House on the Prairie
  
• The Dick Van Dyke Show
  
• Get Smart
  
• Gilligan's Island
  

Just in case you were wondering.

Though my birthday, fittingly, occasionally falls on Sweetest Day, I didn't know about the holiday's origin until I read this.

I was on my way to hike Piestewa Peak after work yesterday evening, and got stuck in unmoving traffic at a freeway intersection near my house. Rush hour was over, so I figured I'd ended up behind a stalled car or fender-bender. Then I noticed a man and woman on foot, darting frantically between vehicles nearby. Two police cars flew off the freeway and screeched to a stop not far from my car, and one officer pulled a gun and ran toward a pickup at the front of our line of unmoving vehicles. Then I noticed news helicopters overhead, and I wondered what on earth I'd gotten into the middle of. Were shots going to be fired? Should I go ahead and duck now?

A minute later, the whole thing was over. One officer had captured the man, who'd tried to hide beneath the pickup, and another officer was leading the woman to his squad car. It turns out the pair had stolen a vehicle, wrecked it at the intersection, and started opening people's car doors in a carjacking attempt. Since I was only a few vehicles removed from the action, I was very glad I hadn't left my house two minutes earlier. After all the excitement, I didn't make the hike I'd planned. But I think my heart rate was up nonetheless.

I have an electronic day planner, a booklet-style day planner, and a calendar feature on my office computer. And yet I can't seem to get away from relying on Post-It Notes stuck to my computer to remind me of important meetings.

I'm feeling significant guilt over my recent weblog neglect. The new job has been busy, and this week has been particularly so. I worked 12 hours yesterday and 14 today, with the insanity promising to continue into week's end. So this plea for sympathy is about all I can manage for now.

My alma mater loves to give honorary doctorates, even though it can't award real ones. (The school has no doctoral programs.) This is the oddest one yet.