This is the month of the ampersand.

Earlier this evening we got to watch an odd, criminal situation play out in the parking lot of the post office next door. When we got home, we walked George over to our PO Box as we do every day and we noticed there was a situation developing in the closed off back parking lot for employees, which is smack next to our side of the building. There are two police cars with perplexed looking cops standing next to them, and parked in one of the spots nearby a Benz with the driver's side door open. We can see a blonde woman sitting inside, but not whether there's anyone else. The cops appear to be speaking to the person in the car, but from a distance. They do not smile at George.

Now, the cops in our town are all pissed off -- most of them have retired because of low pay and bad benefits, etc. Supposedly they are only responding to "emergency, someone-is-going-to-die" calls right now.

However, after we took a leisurely bike ride and came home, there were FIVE police cars there and the blonde, who is wearing a goody two shoes suit, is standing next to the door talking (sometimes loudly) to the person inside. I cracked a window and tried to inconspicuously change clothes as I attempted to listen in. About 15 minutes later, a kid, anywhere from 16-28 gets out, baggy baseball jersey, and is handcuffed and escorted to a police car. The cops all leave, as does the blond lady, in the Benz.

You figure that one out. I really only relate this anecdote because I used to see petty crime out the window of the old place all the time, and I didn't want you to think we'd either a)moved into a crime-free neighborhood or b)gotten jaded to the point we don't notice.

Also, figure out who the guy was who lost Jeopardy yesterday who said he edits a small science fiction magazine with 12 subscribers. (I thought that was us! Just kidding; we have more subscribers than that.) His name was John.

Today's items of interest, briefly...

Viggo Mortensen profile, glowing, in the WP -- including his take on Hidalgo and news about Perceval Press (hey, if they're pubbing Mike Davis...). Worth a look, and I'm looking forward to Hidalgo and hoping it's not one of those movies where the trailer's the best part.

Not the Jambon report, but a taste of it. Daily Peloton has sent Kelly Fowler (an amalgam of Kelly and Karen) to cover bicycling season. She files her first report here. Oh, how I wish all sports coverage was like this. An excerpt, for those of you who won't go check it out:

I love Spain. Green terraced hillsides covered in pink, flowering almond trees and framed by borders of yellow wildflowers. The Mediterranean sea shining a hundred colors of blue. The Moorish castles that dot the landscape. Spanish towns with Spanish grannies. The food. The people. And, of course, the racing!

As I drove into Murcia today to jump headfirst into their Vuelta, it occurred to me that I might be one of the luckiest people I know. For a cycling fanatic like myself to have a backstage pass, uh, make that "Official Press Accreditation," ranks right up there in my mind with recordable compact discs and microwave ovens - move over Def Leppard, there's a new game in town.

At various times in my life I've had the opportunity to meet and work with a lot of different somewhat famous (or infamous as the case may be) people. Actors, writers, politicians - people from Dr. Ruth Westheimer, the famous sex educator, to President Bush the sequel. You'd think meeting a bunch of men in tights would be no biggie for me. However, I found myself saying things like "Dude, you OWNED that mountain!" or worse, "You ROCK, man, seriously!" What was happening to me? I had this all planned out! I'd been on every major rider's web site, getting to "know" them a little better. I had diligently prepared myself to be ready to ask their opinion on American unilateralism or how they felt about socialized health care. No mundane "who's your favorite band" stuff from me. P-lease!

Instead I was reduced to a fumbling, caricature of my former self. I'm hoping it's just opening day jitters.

Now, isn't that charming? And she hasn't even really started to talk about how cute they are.