Okay, now that I’ve gotten the baseball out of my system–temporarily!–I’m going to move on to a couple of other things going on in my life right now.

First, my ongoing crusade against the Cassie Edwards thing.  I’m happy to say I went back to the grocery store this weekend where I hid all of her books and they’re still…hidden!  Yippee!  Didn’t make it back to the bookstore, but I did go by a local department store and found a few copies of her books.  While my husband looked on in disbelief, amusement, and dare I say, just a tad bit of approval–he’s a baby boomer too–I hid them each behind other books.  And I sincerely hope they stay hidden.

When I finished, my husband asked me what I hoped to gain by doing that.  My reply, “Absolutely nothing, but it offends me that her books are still on the shelf, so I’m doing my part to clean up my little corner of North Carolina.”  He laughed and assured me he’d spot the bail money if I ever got caught and ended up in jail for illegally re-arranging a store’s display or something.

He’s so sweet.

To Cassie Edwards and her publishers–won’t you please do the right thing and pull those books off the shelves?  I’m not asking for all of them to come down, just the ones where you  “borrowed” the words of other authors.  Okay, that’s a lie.  I want all of them down, but if I have to settle for just those with the words that are so obviously not yours, well, I guess I will.  If you’re not sure which ones they are, here’s an URL to help you out:


And don’t be put off by the fact that these are the women who first um…”outed” you, so to speak, because, really, you could learn a lot from their site.  I know I have. 

Second, it was announced the other day that Brad Renfro died of an accidental overdose of heroin.  Not really surprised by this–I think everybody who knew him more or less expected that, but all the same, it’s very sad and a huge loss, in my opinion.

I keep seeing him standing there in the hallway of Lincoln Park wearing that silly “Will work for Valentines” sign around his neck, drilling me on my knowledge of Led Zeppelin–a subject he was much more schooled in than I could ever hope to be.  And so, Stairway to Heaven has been running through my head.  I hope Brad’s personal stairway was easily navigated and brought him to a place where his brightness and creativity will be nurtured.

God bless you, Brad.  I didn’t know you well, but I knew you well enough to say, you will be missed.