Sometimes, heroes have headlights

“What was that all about?” I thought.

As I was driving to work, a car coming in the other direction flashed its lights at me, and I had no idea why.

After all, it was a little after 8 a.m., so it’s not like the driver could be flashing the universal symbol for “You have your high beams on.”

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The Captain’s Quizmas

All I want for Christmas is not to finish last.

Yes, I asked for other things from other people, but for the purposes of Paul’s Quizmas challenge, the only thing I’m asking for is not to be at the bottom of the barrel a third straight time.

I know that means I’m wishing for someone else to get coal in his or her blogging stocking, but someone’s going to get it, and I really don’t want it to be me.

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The week gone by — Dec. 19

Italian bishop or not, I have no idea where this guy is getting his info from, because I’ve seen Santa Claus twice lately.

First, he was at the Christmas light display in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, just walking around and admiring the lights like the rest of us during what I assume was a break from his regular duties.

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The week gone by — Dec. 12

I saw the snow outside the window and realized this would probably be the day.

It had started snowing a little bit, nothing too terrible, when I left work the day before, and we had gotten some overnight at my house.

It probably wasn’t more than an inch in either place, but it would be the first chance to find out more about my new commute.

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This time next year

Next year … you want me to think about where I’ll be at this time next year?

And not just next year — after all, that’s only a few weeks away — but this time next year … early December, after this year’s holidays through winter, spring, summer and fall and everyone I know’s birthdays and baseball season (hopefully) all the day-to-day stuff that goes into every 365 days?

You want me to think about that?

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The week gone by — Dec. 5

It was a room that had probably heard a million stories, and more than a few lies.

At least that’s what I assume. I’ve never been to an Elks meeting — although the local chapter sponsored a team when I played Little League — but those are the kind of things that happen when folks get together socially.

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What if this really is the end of the internet?

I couldn’t remember the company (DirectTV) or how long ago it was (2002) until I searched for it, but I remember finding it strange that the woman whose husband told her he “finished” the internet didn’t seem especially fazed.

After all, even before I knew what Rule 34 was, I had at least heard that there was some … interesting … stuff online.

So if our dude finished the internet, he had seen some stuff.

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