I've never made a Festivus Day Present List, but if I were, this USB Turntable would be at the top.

Don't forget to catch up on Chewbacca's blog.

After reading his blog, there is nothing left for me to say. Wow!

I had a lot on my mind this weekend. That is not necessarily a bad thing, but it can linger like an untied shoestring. And Sunday I tripped over that shoestring in a big way.

I began an oil change on one of our cars in the garage sometime around 3:30 p.m.. I drained the oil, removed the oil filter, replaced the plug, poured the dirty oil into the 5 quart container, cleaned my hands, then closed the hood of the car, pulled it down off the ramps and into the driveway. To my amazement, I saw a puddle of clean oil in the garage and a streak running out to the driveway where I had the car idling. So I kicked myself about 64 times for not putting on the new oil filter. I pulled into the garage and put the car on the ramps for the second time. Trying my best to avoid the puddle, I installed the oil filter, then put in the required 4 quarts of oil. Big mess.

So I pull the car into the street and do some minor spraying off the driveway. Good thing it was above 32 degrees Fahrenheit.

I proceeded to begin the oil change on the second car. Pulled it up on the ramps, drained the oil, replaced the oil filter, replaced the plug, and since I had 4 new spark plugs for this car, I replaced 4 spark plugs. Poured the oil from the drain pan into the plastic oil container, cleaned my hands, pulled the car into the driveway, then went back to clean the oily mess in the garage and driveway.

I pulled the hose into the garage, found some soap from the kitchen, and tried my best to break up the major spill.

I finished a yeoman's effort on the oil spill, went into the house with my oily shoes and undressed by the front door, then went upstairs to shower and clean up for my meeting at 6:00 p.m.. Watched some football with the wife for 45 minutes and watched the kids play Playmobil and Rescue Heroes. Finally at 6:00, the wife and I got the kids ready for dinner at McDonald's, since I was going out to my meeting and would eat when I got home.

Her car was on the street and she got in and pulled away.

My car was in the wet driveway and I got in, backed up, and pulled away.

As soon as the car got up to 35 MPH, I noticed the Check Engine light was on. Ok. I'll drive a little more while the oil works its way around the engine. Still flickering on and off, I thought about what occurred. I knew that I used the red funnel the first time I added oil (on the wife's car), and the blue funnel the second time I added oil. But did I add oil to my car, at the end of the second oil change? I thought and could not visualize adding oil to the engine. I pulled over into the Reinhart Realtors' parking lot, took out a facial tissue, and checked the dipstick.

Dry.

I eased the car back to the house, put in 4 quarts of new oil. Backed out of the driveway, and I was only 34 minutes late to my meeting.

Too much on my mind? Well, maybe not too much, but enough.

Oh, and after adding the premium spark plugs, my car still has sluggish performance. So I still got to take it to the doctor for some attention.

More bigfoot coverage here. How come the major news networks don't pick up on this stuff?

When I was in high school I used to like a comic called Bloom County. For some strange reason I got a chuckle out of the antics of Penguin Opus and the rest of the Bloom County Crowd. At one point, I cut out one of the comics from the newspaper and put it in my locker at school. The other day, I was browsing the Bloom County archive and found that very comic. To me, it's not so funny any more, but it is charming to think about how we grow and how our sense of humor adapts and morphs. So with no further ado, here is what gave me such joy a mere 20 years ago: The Bloom County Pop Tart escapade.

You can't argue with the concept: kill as many clowns as you can in 60 seconds. I normally don't like shoot-em-up games, but this one is charming.

Do you think there will ever be a time when life gets less complicated? Maybe when the kids move out of the house. Then I'll have "less complicated" along with "lonely".

Here is a link that will demonstrate what happens when Jenga meets the Sears Tower.

Things have been pretty quiet in this blog the last few days.

Last night, my wife and I were coming home from soccer when we got stuck in a traffic jam on the highway, about a mile from our exit. I asked her to put in Pop 18, and I searched for "Get Me", by Everything but the Girl. After a minute or two, I told her I wished I could memorize lyrics better. She replied that even our son starts to memorize songs, a few words at a time. She said her strategy was to focus on the first verse, learn it, then learn it later, a verse at a time. That might work for her, and I've tried it, but I just don't memorize well. When I meet someone, or if I'm verbally given a shopping list, or if I'm told to remember something for a friend at work, most of the time I just don't remember. It's not that I intend to forget; it's something else. I do remember the most important details, as well as some science and math concepts, but I'm frustrated when I can't remember the three items my wife wanted me to pick up at Kroger. When she verbally gives me the list by the fridge, I think, Surely I don't need to write this down; it's just eggs, sour cream, and napkins. So I'm discouraged when I'm in the store trying to remember what else there was on her list besides the eggs.

When I saw an article earlier today called Crash Course on Learning Theory, I remembered the discussion in the car and thought it would be blog-worthy.

Top Space Images of 2005.