The envelope for my BellSouth bill is stamped with this message:

BellSouth is joining the new AT&T, connecting you to the nation's most complete and secure network.

Not so long ago, but near 20 years, 1984-86, I worked at a small long-distance company that had sprung up in the wake of an enormous anti-monopoly lawsuit to split Bell and AT&T.

I did not dream that. I have a T-shirt.

I just watched two shows of What Not to Wear.

So what do I need to do? Wear a tube top braless to the wedding? Believe me, my sister-in-law and niece would understand for a $5000 shopping trip to New York.

James Joyner posts Amanda Marcotte's description of her arc as a worker on John Edwards' campaign in Salon.

Ms. Marcotte attributes the controversy leading to her resignation to sexism in politics and Bloggerville, and to the rumblings of the mighty Republican smear machine.

I quoted portions of this thread to a daughter of a Democratic legislator (state) who is staying with us this week. She said she wouldn't want the woman near a campaign.

(Yes, Diane, I needed a new dedicated guest room. Sometimes I think we're running a bed and breakfast here. Or a dinner-and-bed operation. It's seen a lot of use since my sister came in October.)

Ann Althouse has a post up about the Mona Lisa today.

It's interesting for a comment from Drew W that quotes a song from Michelle Shocked:

But in between her cracks
You can read between the lines
She'd love nothing better than
To rob the Louvre blind . . .

-- "Looks Like Mona Lisa
4:32 PM

Wouldn't she?

How about a Valentine's Day greeting from a pretty girl redhead?

Tornados in New Orleans

I can't resist, even if it's not new: "I didn't say [he] has a small penis, I said he was a little prick."

(Ann Althouse)

An Ipod Shuffle for my birthday! I'm so cool and up-to-date!

How do I make it work?

Charlie is two years old today.

You figure he's spoiled?

This will be the last announcement precisely of its kind.

Today is my birthday. I am 50, a half-century, on the down-hill slope. I have learned a lot about gravity since I was 40. There will never be another statement of this kind on this blog. Ever.

Today is also Charlie's hatch day. He is two. He has learned a good deal about gravity in the past several months, too. We'll keep track of this handsome boy.

Charlie and I are working on a birthday tape for his fans.

Oh, and I woke at 6:30 this morning from a dream in which I was at a large party with music and dancing. I had three possible dresses to wear and was wondering whether I had proper white heels to match a dress, when I found myself standing beside the bar stark naked and bare-footed with nothing but a piece of poster board for cover.

Does it come down to thinking of wearing white shoes between Labor Day and Easter? Down here I certainly wouldn't be dressed if I did.

So I open the door of the truck and step down into the parking lot of Fred's.

On the puddled lot lies one slice of white bread, still dry on this damp day.

Not to be particularly hateful, but y'all get cut roses and I have a new bloom for Valentine's Day.

I never had an orchid for the senior prom. I also wasn't a senior. (Didn't ever go to a prom, either, for that matter.)

Until about now. I'll be 50 in a few more days.

I'd like to ask Mr. Cowen how many times he has vacuumed the bedroom carpet? Someone must do it, right?

I shouldn't say this, but this Super Bowl halftime is the first time I've ever listened to Prince. Or really seen him.

How did that happen?

Too cool. The second line has gone wild.

Michael went to see them in Natchez last night and brought me a CD.

Hip-hop, jazz, and a lot of brass. Works for me.

UPDATE: Their myspace page has several clips.

UPDATE: I'm listening on the Ipod. The boys make much better music than their lyrics would suggest.

The Johnsons now have a TV star in their midst!

Kiwi, the green bird with the yellow beak, is a male Solomon Island Eclectus. A mate for Lucy would look like him. That kind of "dimorphism" is rare in the parrot world.

It won't work. Not right now.

I bought 12 blank signs from Smith Printing, and duct-taped ten together (for 24 square feet) on the inside so Charlie couldn't get a purchase on those chewy edges.

The enclosure just makes him frantic. No harm done, but no go for him.

However, I plan to keep it around. There might be uses for it later. It folds down to 18" x 24" x 2-1/2".

It would do, I think, everything that the Grrreat Wall can do at 1/5 the cost. So, for a small kitten or puppy or rat, or guinea pig, or young birds, it might be a dandy playpen. Worth trying, anyway.

I am: Hal Clement (Harry C. Stubbs) A quiet and underrated master of "hard science" fiction who, among other things, foresaw integrated circuits back in the 1940s.

Which science fiction writer are you?

I don't read much science fiction and never have. So I don't know this gentleman at all. (From Sarah)

Pierre C. Shadeaux did not see his shadow this morning.

So spring should be around the corner.

Corrugated plastic sign stock is $1 per 18" x 24" sheet at Smith Printing in Natchez.

18" would, I think, do.