When I was younger I used to ride my bike home from the library with the handlebar basket piled high with books. I'd read everything and anything.

I'm older now and much more read. It's rare I find one book anymore that really pulls me in, let alone seven.

What's cooler is the books I do find often have a personal connection.

My sister Leslie Meehan's s thesis is now a book. "Our Birth as Holo Sapiens: Navigating Our Passage through Climate Change."

My friend Pamela Douglas has two books out now: "Back to Life," about her experiences surviving a very serious surgery, and "Writing the TV Drama," which has fast become the "go-to" book in Hollywood for writers who care about their craft.

I discovered Dave Housley's work from a small boutique on 36th St in Baltimore. His first collection of stunning and snarky short stories is out: "Ryan Seacrest Is Famous."

I'm sure my friend Janice's book about her life and the creatures/humans she's loved within it will be published soon.

I've referred "Everything Matters" by Ron Currie, Jr., to just about any smart, serious reader I know.

So, basically, I'm just saying that it's nice to still find books that I would consider stacking into my handlebar basket and peddling home to read. That books are still a source of discovery achieved and quests fulfilled.

Yea!

Whew. I'm just exhausted reading that.

Maybe not so much action anymore.

I'm older. I'm allowed. Things change. :)

Oh, and Kyle Chandler won an Emmy for "Friday Night Lights". As did writer Jason Katims. Yea. Thankfully, things changed and they finally got recognized.

Oh, and did I tell you my cat Hubble now only eats fish-flavored cat food? He used to eat beef or chicken flavored stuff, but he stopped. It's kind of weird because I'm a pescetarian (vegetarian who eats fish). Is he channeling his owner? For him, his tastes have changed.

And today I got a new office chair. Thank God that that thing changed.

And I could go on and on and on, but then, nothing will have changed.

So I won't.

Another man scours the wreckage of a hospital emergency room, flashlight held between his teeth. 

A woman covers her child with her body.

The world continues down its current path of extremes.

From the most extreme devastation comes the most extreme dedication.

From the most extreme horror comes the most extreme heroism.

From the most extreme chaos comes the most extreme caring.

From Tuscaloosa to Joplin and many places in between, I've been blown away by the power of human nature that rises in response to the power of Mother Nature.

As I go through the tasks of everyday life -- feeding the cat, driving around on errands, working on the computer, vacuuming and dusting, doing laundry and dishes, watering the flowers -- I realize that thousands of people can't do those small things right now and won't be able to for a long time.

So, a thought, as you go about your lives this coming week, do one thing on behalf of a "citizen of Joplin." Take your dog on a walk, for Joplin. Grill a hamburger, for Joplin. Tie your child's shoe, for Joplin. Take a yoga class, for Joplin. Make a presentation, for Joplin.

Let's live our lives and get our work done and I have a feeling they'll sense it, in Joplin.

And was out riding my bike this afternoon. Was on my way back and came upon this little girl walking her dog. Suddenly she dropped the leash by accident. The dog got away from her and went running down the sidewalk, she running after it and yelling and crying. I followed her and passed her and followed the dog who somehow wisely ran just on the sidewalks and not in the street. I yelled ahead to people to "stop the dog" and waved at cars. A couple of black SUVs passed me and they'd try to turn across the sidewalk in front of the dog but she went around the car a couple of times. We were getting closer to a much busier intersection and one of the SUVs swung into a driveway with some hedges at a house and the dog went into the backyard. Some people were also chasing on foot. The whole neighborhood was rallying! An older gentleman caught the dog and kept it in the backyard while the girl, Griffin, came sobbing up the sidewalk. She was *so* upset. I think her parents must have jumped in a car because there was a man and woman who went to her and called her by name and comforted her. It was pretty intense! But, it was nice to see everyone spring into action. I passed one of the SUVs on the way back and he asked if we'd "got the dog" and I said we had. So, that adventure was over with.

So it's been a weekend of experiences of all kinds. The kind of weekend that leads one to get in her car and head to the coffeehouse before the day is done. So, off I go.

Also, check out "Limitless" at the theatres. Was surprised at how good it was. It'll make you feel a little better.

The Aurora from Terje Sorgjerd on Vimeo.

How can SS be an entitlement when *I've* paid into it for years and, as a self-employed person the last 10+ years, I've paid my entire portion ... at least 15% of my annual income.

In my view, I'm only "entitled" to something into which I've put nothing ... no thought, no effort, no funds, no blood/sweat/tears.

That ain't the case with SS.

While I understand that the word has a special meaning when connected with federal legislation, and that I'm not paying into an account in my name but into a pool that's paying for someone else's retirement right now and, therefore, I don't really have direct access or ownership of the thousands I've paid in over the years ... I don't care.

SS isn't an entitlement. It's a promise due based on my personal investment.

So stop linking the word with SS, at least not quite so frequently.

There's all the other stuff floating out there that gets me spinning. You know what I mean. We're all living with the same things every day -- weather, work, driving, eating, cleaning, taxes, other paperwork, planning.

So I was feeling a little unhinged.

On the good side, I got myself a new bike. Spiffy.

On the good side, I'm listening to "Battlestar Galactica" music from Bear McCreary right now.

On the good side, I have three sips of chai left.

All good hinge-tightening salves.

I've also been sucked into the drama vortex that is TNT's "SouthLAnd," a gritty and grueling and marvelously written cop drama that takes place in south L.A.

In the final 30 seconds of last night's episode, officer John Cooper, played by Michael Cudlitz, collapses to the dirt at the side of the road, wailing in anguish over a lot of things. It was a release that had to come. You can't even begin to imagine what his character has been going through.  And 99.9% of the time, he is a quiet, quippy 20-year veteran of the force, tall and strong and very solid.

He is a character, but he is written from truth (ask the show's writers; they don't make this stuff up).

And all I could think was, could metta be strong enough to meet this level of pain? Could metta match up to the depth of his fear? Because it was so real, so raw, my jaw dropped.

Cooper is a television character, but that moment of art showed me what metta is up against. And how badly it's needed.

If you're intrigued by "SouthLAnd," check the show out on Tuesday nights at 10pm on TNT. Full episodes are available at the show's site and most cable On Demand services offer the last few episodes. It's Season 3 (each season is 10 or 11 shows). Earlier seasons can be Netflixed.