Wednesday

Frank and Melanie will return tomorrow. Promise. (That is not a threat.)

Enjoyed Denise's comments about my birding experiences. I hadn't thought of the feeding area thing. That would explain why the fence-sitting red-winged black birds also fly at me during the summer. But they've never come at me as determinedly as the one has at that Forest Grove site within the last week.

The heat turned up outside today. Should be an interesting ride tonight.

Had my bi-annual eye check-up today. The results were known in advance: they ain't getting any better. I've begun having trouble with the smaller print in the sports' page box scores and the numbers in the crossword squares. So I'm going to try bifocals again. The last time he prescribed bifocals, I traded them in within a month or two because it was too much of a nuisance. It was just easier to slide my single-lens glasses on top of my head for reading purposes. Now, with the smaller print not as clear, I may have to give up more ground to the aging curve.

My conclusions on the reality of optical stores remain unaltered. The advertising that they do with "2 pair of glasses for $100" or the like, is akin to the tourist trap that crows, "4 T-shirts for $10," and then has one rack of off-brands (some with holes covered with patches) at that price. All the shirts that you might actually wear are at regular prices. My bill at the glasses store today for regular and sun glasses; $433.

Of course some of you are sitting there and thinking about taking this to the Seinfeld level and wondering about the definition of "a pair of glasses." Shouldn't it really be "a set of glasses?" If you are getting a "pair" of glasses, are we talking about one unit of two connected monocles, or two units like I bought today? (This little discussion could go into the child care area as well, but a play on Southern phoenetics is a little further off the beaten path than even Jerry would want to go.)

Sorry about that. Just couldn't pass on the diversion into oxymorons. Or are we actually talking about a different figure of speech here? It could technically be a case of "antiphrasis." (You can look it up. I did.)

Then there's the aspect of the diluting of the eyes and driving home. But that part of the story will have to wait for another day.

So I'm off to my ride.

Be careful out there.

Tuesday

Non fiction day.

In another interesting element to my cycling, I've made acquaintances recently with a troubled red-winged black bird that resides on the south side of Forest Grove, just west of the Middle Road intersection (just south of the I-80 interchange). I've literally been attacked by the bird each of the last two rides, and both coming and going each time! It must be an overly-protective mother with a nest nearby. She's repeatedly pecked my helmet on these rides. She sits on the telephone or electric wires, sees me come by, and swoops down to drive me away from her turf.

Over the years of biking, I've had some trouble with dogs, both on the bike path and on the open road. There was one mutt on a farm on Utica Ridge that routinely came after us. I got pretty good at reaching for my air pump and using it as a weapon. In the last couple of years, there have been several deer along the bike path. One doe and two fawns spent most of last summer in the brush around Duck Creek Park. I'd see them most nights.

If you wanted to open the category of animals to road kill, I've seen a lot of species. But for the sake of those reading this at dinnertime, I'll save those items for another time.

My fave Discovery rider, Savoldelli, is getting killed in the Giro by Ivan Basso of CSC. Not even a contest at this point. Basso would have to crash and break something for another rider to win. The race wraps up Saturday.

I had a nice 21 miler last night around DCC. I get out there and do the triangilar loop twice. Good hills. I'm starting to feel stronger. My buddy Pete came by my house later on and we ended up on the deck at Gov's with Roy. Saw the Monday Night Ride riders and Pete and I may join them in a couple of weeks.

The Criterium is Monday in downtown Rock Island. I usually go over and check it out. I know some of the local guys who ride in age-group races, including this one. They're nuts.

Happy tax-tax birthday to Kate.

Good luck to the CC girl in IC.

The Investment Banker girl was through the office today getting her NY trip scheduled. One day of training in the Big Apple. In and out on the same day.

And the Art History girl has new shoes. I mis-took her for Jessica.

Be careful out there.

Monday AM

Just a little update. FFF last night with a cookout at Mom's with Susan, Mary and Charlie. Brats and dogs. Very low key.

Charlie was headed back to IC for her first week of work and class for the summer. There are some logistics to cover to get Mary and Susan to IC this week in anticipation of the three of them visiting Kate next weekend in the Twin Cities.

Biking over the weekend was less than perfect. Food poisoning while on my Saturday ride put me way off schedule. Never have quite had the same thing happen before. McCausland will have to be this week.

The tomatos are in. 4 plants. We'll see if I have any better luck than last year when my results were embarassingly bad. Also got my front stoop planters done with geraniums. Still have my deck planters to do this week.

Susan helped me pick up the trimmings in my yard yesterday from my work cutting back on various bushes and trees. She gets Daughter of the Day on the blog for her efforts.

Hope to get some positive things done this week here at Criterium. And will definitely add to the continuing story of Frank and Melanie.

Everyone have a good week. Be careful out there.

Chapter Three - Continued - Blog Date 052106

Cedar Rapids 18April05 -1900

Calhoun and Melanie were sitting at a booth on the far side of the main dining room. The restaurant was busy and would-be diners waited in groups at the bar, patio bar and in the billard room where the table had been covered for the evening. It was a somewhat older crowd than what one might expect at a place near a college campus, but it was too early in the evening for the kids and the long-term loyalty of Norm's customers was legendary. Both Frank and Melanie had spoken to friends at several different tables as they had made their way to their reserved booth. It was a comfortable and engaging setting.

Norm's wine cellar was somewhat lacking and they had settled on a 2003 merlot from Napa Valley. Since he had been over-served in the wine department last night at The Italian Cellar, a reserve bottle from Tuscany may not even have registered on Calhoun's palate. Napa Valley would be just fine. And as a bonus, at just $16, the average unit cost for his wine consumption for the weekend took a nice downward move on the curve.

"I was a little slow on the draw getting up this morning," said Calhoun. "I'm pretty sure that the last bottle that Donovan ordered last night could have been put to better use by some other folks. Our waitress could have done us all a favor by closing out the tab when we said that the prior bottle was the 'last round'."

"You guys always have trouble leaving The Cellar," replied Melanie. "Remember St. Patrick's Day last month? It was a good thing you called a cab that night."

Calhoun grimaced at that memory. Was there a pattern here? He enjoyed the wine and an occassional beer. And the company of good friends. Could it be done without alcohol? He had definitely been over the line in the past, but he had never thought it was a problem. He might have to think about that going forward. But not tonight.

They dined on standard fare at Norm's, iceberg lettuce salad, blackened catfish and baked potatos. Through dinner they had talked about her running, his biking and the possibility of each training for a triathalon later in the year. They joked about Donovan trying on suits under Holly's watchful eye, and discussed the proposed shopping mall for a tract of farmland not far from her home in McKelvey Heights. All of these were 'safe' topics and Calhoun made no attempt to bridge over to her history with Anthony Carmondii and Cyberware.

As they finished dinner, their waitress removed their plates from the table and Calhoun poured the last of the wine into their glasses. "Cheers," he said raising his glass toward Melanie in a toast. She raised her glass to meet his and echoed, "Cheers to you."

Cedar Rapids - 18April06 - 1740

Melanie felt at ease with Frank Calhoun. The atmosphere at Norm's had been perfect for the evening. The casual dress code. Seeing mutual friends in such an under-stated yet well-regarded locale. His seemingly genuine interest in her. She wanted to know more about him. She thought that maybe this might be the time to ask him about what inquiring minds want to know.

"So, Frank," said Melanie with a little twinkle in her eye, "Are you ever going to be able to tell me exactly what you do for a living? I know that you work for the IDCI, or whatever that acronym is. But really, what do you do there?"

Frank had not expected this direct approach. He had to be careful, but maybe this angle of the conversation could lead to something about Cyberware. He knew that she was trying to open his book a little, but he wanted to go that way himself.

"You have the acronym right. It stands for the Iowa Department of Criminal Investigation. In Iowa, everyone just calls it the DCI. But it's not like I haven't told you that before. And I'm sure Holly has given you that much information anyway. The DCI is the state's version of the FBI, the Federal Bureau of Investigation. They have juristiction on all criminal proceedings in the state of Iowa. Basically, they help out local law enforcement agencies, particularly when a crime involves more than one locality," explained Calhoun.

"My work was initially with the group that has oversight on the state's gambling venues, the race tracks and riverboats. History has it that crime tends to follow the gaming industry. There's just too much money to be made, and the operators of the casinos and tracks are heavily regulated. It was my job to make sure that the gaming houses followed the rules."

Calhoun then went on to say, "But that all changed about three years ago. After 9-11 and Enron, among other things, the DCI got involved with other state and Federal agencies in tracking money used for terrorist activities. I've been on loan to a Federal Department of Justice team for over two years now investigating money laundering and securities fraud. It's become even more complicated because of the internet and wireless communications. Sherlock Holmes would be lost today."

Melanie tried to see if anything that Calhoun had just said was truely new to her. She didn't think so. Men. They could talk for hours and not give up a dime. She decided to probe a little further. "Well, yes, Holly, or maybe even yourself, did tell me about most of that stuff. But how about that new Federal team that you are assigned to. Does it have a name? Do you get a handy spy-decoder ring? Do you get to meet James Bond?", Melanie teased.

Calhoun liked her sense of humor. He decided though that now was not the time to talk about his faux Ironman Triathalon wrist watch. "In a fit of literary genius, they decided to call my group the National Securities Task Force, the NSTF. And 'no' and 'no' to your other questions." Calhoun had still not offered up anything new to Melanie.

Melanie paused. She had been interviewed extensively at the time of the Cyberware IPO by both Federal and California securities agents. While she had not been an officer of the company, the trust's ownership of 50% of the stock had made her an interested party under state and Federal statutes. If Calhoun had been assigned to the NSTF for two or three years, he might even know the jerk from Washington who took nearly eight hours for her deposition.

"I had some exposure to security investigators in California at the time of the Cyberware IPO," Melanie offered, "And it wasn't that pleasant of an experience." She watched Calhoun for a reaction. He was stoic. "Do you ever get involved with anything like that? Would you actually know any of the agents who worked the Cyberware transaction?

Cedar Rapids 18April05 1755

Calhoun was now at the edge of the cliff. The big decision. He was unsure if he should just leap into the fray and face the enemy or take the course of less resistance and run for higher ground. But she really wasn't the enemy. And running would get him no closer to the secrets of Anthony Carmondii.

"Melanie," he said, "I've been participating in a deep investigation of Cyberware since last Fall. We think Anthony Carmondii may be structuring a securities scheme that will make Enron look like penny ante poker."

"And I need your help," said Calhoun.

Chapter Three - Continued - Blog Date 052006

Cedar Rapids 18April05 - 1815

Melanie checked herself out in the mirror yet another time. This was the third casual top she had tried on in the last ten minutes. The slim cut designer jeans were fine. The black leather, one inch heeled ankle boots were both stylish and comfortable. The simple, brass buckeled belt went well with almost anything. She had thought that the first top, a crisp, white dress blouse looked a bit formal for Norm's Place. The second choice, an Italian silk floral number, needed a dress jacket, which was definitely out of place at Norm's. This long sleeved, finely knit cashmere sweater-top was a suitable compromise. She had always liked how she looked in burgandy, and the boatneck collar and form-fitting shape added some low-wattage sex appeal.

The house phone rang. "Hello?" she said. "Hi. It's me," came the reply. It was Holly.

"So ready for the big date?" asked Holly. Melanie could tell from Holly's tone that she was enjoying this bit of teasing. "Donovan tells me to tell you to take it easy on Frank," continued Holly. There was laughter in the background.

"I know that you see some humor here, but it's pretty thin. Did you find a suit?" asked Melanie.

"A light gray pin-stripe that will allow for lots of colors in the shirts and ties. Donovan can hardly contain himself," said Holly. "It was much easier than I had thought beforehand."

"Say," Holly continued, "We ran into Joe Reilly at the mall and he said that you had emailed him after lunch about getting in to see Denton on Monday. What's up? Is there anything I can do?"

Joe Reilly was Melanie's account manager at Capital Asset Advisor's and Denton was Denton Endicott, President, founder and sole shareholder of CAA. Joe handled day-to-day activities for the account, but since it was the biggest single account in the firm, Denton Endicott was always kept in the loop. During her review of the resume file, she had decided that she needed to review the cash flow projections for the account now that the special dividend from Cyberware was delayed. Joe could work up the analysis, but she knew that Denton would want to be involved in any withdrawal decisions. So she had sent the email to Joe to get CAA alerted to her information request before the typical Monday morning bustle.

"No," responded Melanie. "I just need a little analysis work done on my stuff early next week and I figured that if I gave Joe a 'heads up' today, my request would be first in line on Monday."

"Melanie," said Holly, "This may come as a surprise to you, although it shouldn't, but your requests are ALWAYS first in line at CAA! Surely you know that?"

"Well, I suppose I do, but I don't like to be that demanding client who waits till the last minute to ask for something and then complains when the results are not immediately available. This way, Joe can do his thing for me and not have to drop other projects that he might have otherwise started on Monday," explained Melanie.

"You're too nice, Melanie", said Holly. "But anyway, it may not matter. Just so you know, Denton may not be in on Monday. I think he has a meeting Tuesday in Phoenix and he may be leaving as early as noon on Monday to meet with one of his old college friends in Scottsdale on Monday night. He may not be able to meet with you until Wednesday."

"Hmmm," considerd Melanie. "I'll still want Joe to do his preliminary work. If I can't get together with Denton until Wednesday, that should be okay."

"Holly, I've got to go or I'll be late," said Melanie. "I know you'll want to know, so I'll call you tomorrow with a report on tonight. Thanks for calling. Bye"

"Bye yourself", said Holly.

Melanie hung up the receiver and quickly went to the garage. She had ten minutes to make the 4 mile trip to Norm's Place. It would be close.

Cedar Rapids 18April05 1833

Calhoun was sitting on a park bench in the patio bar at Norm's. He saw the Jag enter the parking lot on the South side of the restaurant. Melanie McDermott stepped out of the car and walked toward the entrance, waving at him when he caught her attention midway across the parking lot. Wow. She looked like a model. Keeping his eye on the ball, the business side of this meeting, was not going to be easy. He stood to greet her.

"Melanie! You look great. I know I have on jeans too, but I feel underdressed", said Calhoun in what he hoped was taken as a complimentary allusion.

Melanie smiled, pecked his cheek, and said, "Frank, don't be so modest. You look pretty good yourself." She reached and took his hand in hers. "Let's get inside and see if Norm has a dry red that's not sold in a box ."

Her hand was soft and warm and their fingers laced naturally together. Their many prior social meetings made them far from strangers. But this simple act of holding hands while going into Norm's gave a new feeling to Calhoun. This was going to get complicated.

Friday AM

Sorry for the missed day. It was Susan's birthday and I left a little early to get in a ride before our little cookout. Had a good 17+ mile ride on the DCC hills. Very windy going North and then had to be very conscious of gusts from the side when going East-West. South was fun with the tail wind.

Good cookout too. Mom had bought some ribeye steaks that were easy to grill. Susan had a good evening, I think. Nominal presents, but with Biaggi's from the night before, and taking today off, she has had a little more than a one-time-event celebration.

State high school track at Drake this week. With boys and girls together, they now have a full day of events on Thursday too. A sophomore PV kid won the big school 3200. I liked it when it was just girls and you could get there Friday mid-afternoon and still see most of the pre-lims.

No big plans for the weekend. Yard and garden. Need to plant the tomatos. Also hope to do a McCausland 30+ ride tomorrow.

I'll be adding to Frank and Melanie later today.

Have a great day!

Wednesday

I really hate to say this, but I'm not going to be able to blog today.

It's Susan's tax birthday and we are having a little FFF dinner at Biaggi's. That doesnt give me enough time to get into character for the blook. It will have to be tomorrow. Frank and Melanie have a non-date to discuss.

No ride tonight either. I DID get a brutal 20 mile ride in last night in the wind, pouring rain and cold. It looked a little cloudy to the north when I started out, then by the time I hit Forest Grove at Devil's Glen it had started to spit. At Forest Grove and Middle, it was a pretty steady shower. No prob. A mile later, it was pelting me sideways, and that's what I had to deal with most of the rest of the ride. I did two loops on the hills around Davenport Country Club to get in my 20+ miles. By the time I retraced Forest Grove over to Devil's Glen, the rain was done. The ride South was with the wind. But my fingers were so cold, I couldn't shift into the big chain ring. When I got home, I literally fell off the bike because I had no feeling in my feet and couldn't get out of the clipless pedals. It was a long hot shower for relief.

So I'm off to FFF.

Be careful out there.

Tuesday

For those interested in Frank and Melanie, you will have to wait another day.

I'm headed out for a ride.

Be careful out there.

Monday

Another non-fiction day.

Hard to believe that we are now in the middle of May. Given everyone's schedule, this Summer will fly by in a heart beat.

Congratulations to the college girls for the completion of their school years. I look at it as the 75% mark in college education funding. With Mary now with a single year remaining, and Charlie with three, that total of 4 represents the last 25% of the 16 years between the four girls. As a parent, you are excited about the education of your kids. But as the college years begin to wind down, there is a certain financial relief that begins to come into view.

That of course ignores the weddings.

Based upon prior precedent set on these pages, Kate does get a Daughter of the Day award for her half marathon run last Saturday.

I did get another short ride in last night despite the weather. 16.5. Not much to brag about. I was telling a good friend/client today about how my calendar in my bathroom is a motivation tool because I write in my workout for each day, and blank days are bad news. He said one cure for the self-criticism would be to take the calendar down.

No ride tonight. I'm going to try to mow my hay field of a yard.

For the sports fans in the crowd, Ivan Basso has a lead of about a minute and a half in the Giro d' Italia. My favorite, Paulo Salvodelli of Dicovery is about 5th, over 2 minutes in arrears. And Greg Biffle won at Darlington Saturday under the lights when Ken Schroeder (laps down) wouldn't give my boy Jeff Gordon in the 24 car the space he needed to execute a pass on one of the final turns on the last lap. In both of these desparate sports, the winner of a long ride is often decided by a few seconds. (The stage in the Giro today was actually a photo-finish.) Then again, there are folks out there that may question whether NASCAR is a sport, and many more who are wondering what a Giro is.

Y'all be careful out there.

Sunday

Just a few lines today. Did church and Ross's this AM with Susan, Mary, Charlie and Mom. No plans for the rest of the day. Cool, rainy outside.

Got in the 27+ miles late yesterday to make my week's mileage. Not much fun.

Congrats to Kate for getting her half in. Sounded like lousy weather there too.

Susan did add her Top Ten list to the freshman year memories collection. Glad to see Roy and I made it for that plane trip. Good job, Susan.

So I may check in later. In the meantime, be careful out there.

Chapter Three - Continued - Blog Date 051306

Cedar Rapids 18April05 - 1730CDT

Calhoun took a long drink from the can of Coors Light as he stepped from the kitchen to the three-seasons porch at the rear of his house. He sat in his Mother's oak and rataan rocker that allowed a line of sight to the plazma TV above the built-in desk on the opposite side of the kitchen. The sound was muted on the TV which was set to ESPN News. Scores from the afternoon baseball and NBA games streamed on the bottom of the screen. The soft beat of New Orleans Jazz played from Bose speakers on the bookcases in the adjacent family room. In a moment of contemplation, he thought, when you live by yourself, should you call it the "self room"?

His afternoon had been generally successful. There was no particular news on Carmondii, but his call with Raymond Marshall and his meeting with his cousin Mary Cosgrove had both been productive. After filling in Marshall about his preliminary review of the email, they had agreed that the investigation needed an elevated priority. Marshall had learned from NSTF operatives in California that there had been an increase in communications between Cyberware and various institutional bond houses regarding an extension on a $300 million dollar indenture that was scheduled to mature on June 20th. Even more interesting was the highly unusual meeting today between Carmondii and Aaron Ginsberg. Although the two executives had once been closely alligned, the meteoric rise of Cyberware had seemingly given Carmondii his own financial kingdom. They hadn't been seen in public together in years. Now they're golfing buddies? Something just didn't ring true.

Marshall was glad that Calhoun was extending his inquiry of Melanie McDermott. He had suggested to Calhoun last Fall that Melanie had to know more than she had let on to SEC agents who had interviewed her at the time of the Cyberware IPO. Transcripts of those interviews had been reread recently as part of normal procedures when an investigation stalls. Nothing new was discovered, and there had been no post-IPO events that conflicted with any of her responses three years ago. But Marshall's intuition kept Melanie on the front page of his personal leaderboard of conspirators for the case.

The topic of expense reimbursements had not been part of the conversation. Calhoun had decided to save that needle for another day.

Calhoun looked across at the scores on the TV. The Cubs had lost again to the Reds. April games at Wrigley could be brutal.

He took another drink of his beer and considered Mary's last comment from their meeting three hours earlier, "Cyberware's cash flow is down. I think that some analysts may be overestimating the company's performance for the next couple of quarters. Off the record, I think that the play now is to short the stock." Mary had grinned when she said this, knowing that Calhoun was doing some kind of an investigation and that he was strictly prohibited from trading in any securities.

Mary Cosgrove was the daughter of his Dad's sister. Aunt Margaret. Margaret had been a pistol, and as the saying goes, the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree. Mary's journey to her high position at the university had included stops at Harvard, a Wall Street investment bank, and graduate school at Northwestern. She had spent time on the faculty at Vanderbilt and then Carnegy Mellon. After a stint at London's School of Economics she had returned to Iowa City to teach and conduct further research on the impact of technology in efficient capital markets. She had been promoted to head of the Finance Department a year ago.

Mary had obtained a grant from the American Stock Exchange (AMEX) to do extrapolated trend analysis on market prices for new offerings during their first five years of trading. The grant had allowed her to employ two graduate assistants to help her with her research, and to lease time on the RX2 Chromax computer at the Center for Quantitative Research in Falls Church, Virginia. Mary had named her project Pollyanna.

"You want me to add what company to the test?" Mary had asked. "Or is it that you want a separate test on this one outfit?"

"The company is Cyberware," Calhoun had answered. "And I'm actually just curious if anything that you are doing with Pollyanna could give me some answers to questions that I can't even define for this company." Calhoun went on to describe some of his investigation. Mary was aware of his work with the NSTB and she understood that he was not able to lay the whole case out for her because of confidentiality reasons. So she didn't ask too many questions, but made notes as Calhoun recounted the facts that he could share with her.

"I know just a little about Cyberware," Mary said. "Originally, it was your classic garage tech company that went from nothing to millions in the late '90's. I think that the company's original name was something like "CompuThought" or "CompuConscious". I can't remember. Their software was good stuff at the time. Then they got caught with the bankruptcy of their major customer, and they had to borrow a lot of money while the courts held up the transfer of their contract to a user who could actually pay. Unfortunately, the tech bubble then hit and they just couldn't recover. I think Equity Funding may have come in to the picture about then and it got renamed Cyberware."

"Good memory, Mary," Calhoun had replied. "But actually, I don't think that Equity Funding was ever an owner in this scenario. Carmondii seemed to have made enough money on the Indigo deal, and earlier ones, that he was able to be his own boy with Cyberware. And he structured the deal to use the tax loss carry-forwards. Which muddied the picture because his lawyers screwed up on the purchase, like I said before, and Melanie McDermott became a 50% beneficial owner through the trust arrangement."

"I see," said Mary. "Tell you what. This is really consistent with the overall research that we have in process. Let me put one of my grad assistants on a little project to add data about Cyberware to a separate Pollyanna program and see if any exceptions appear in comparison to the control group findings. If anything pops out, we can go to the second stage protocol and drill down further with some simulations. Kristen Maxwell started with me last semester and she is very bright and efficient. She can probably get started Monday. How's that?"

"That's very good of you, Mary. Thanks," said Calhoun. "I have had such a hard time making headway on this case over the last few weeks, I need all the help I can get."

"Hey, no prob, Frank. What are cousins for?, she said with her dimpled grin. "By-the-by, did you know that Melanie McDermott has been down here quite a bit this year trying to drum up support for some health care initiative with the medical school? Those people at the medical school always fall over themselves when they smell somebody new with money on campus. Word around the Faculty Club is that she's ready to drop several million into the deal." This was news to Calhoun.

Mary had followed that bit of gossip about Melanie's charitable endeavors with the tip on shortting the Cyberware stock. After good-bye pleasantries, Calhoun had left her office feeling entirely inadequate.

Calhoun drained the beer, rose from his chair and walked over to shut off the TV. His body ached just a little from his late afternoon bike ride on the paved county rodes north of town. He had cut his workout down to 32 miles when his return from Iowa City had been somewhat later than originally planned. He made his way to the medicine cabinet in the half-bath off of the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen. He took 3 of the 200 milligram tablets and washed them down with a glass of water. "It's hell getting old," he said to himself.

The digital clock on the microwave flashed 6:10. It took just 10 minutes to get to Norm's, but he didn't want Melanie to have to look for him. And she was not one to be "fashionable late." He pulled his wallet from the microwave (that'll fool 'em, Frank), picked up his keys from the countertop and walked out to the Expedition which was sitting in the driveway. He could not deny to himself that he was looking forward to spending the evening with Ms. Melanie McDermott.

Friday

I feel like an excuse-maker, but I won't be adding to the blog today. I'm headed out to help with the District high school track meet. My pal Bill says that they need bodies. I barely qualify.

It was a good night in Iowa City. Amazing amount of stuff in Charlie's dorm room. Then again, Mary's apartment may set a new record for stuff in a confined space.

Frank and Melanie will return tomorrow.

I too enjoyed Martha's post. Where's Soo's?

Be careful out there.

Thursday

The blog today is my real time trip to IC to help make Charlie's move out of Burge. Probably won't get back to this until tomorrow.

Chapter Three - Blog Date 050906

Half Moon Bay, CA 18April05 1300PDT

Anthony Carmondii sat on the pool patio of his mansion looking out at the Pacific Ocean. He was enjoying the unusual warmth of the early Spring sun and the gentle breeze coming off the azure water. Samantha Lodgerton had left after brunch, thankfully. She was already asking for more money for clothes and jewelry befitting her position as his companion. If she had performed better in bed, he may have considered it. But she was a forgettable lover, and Carmondii had already decided to move on to a freshman Congresswoman from Menlo Park. At least she should be able to carry on a conversation.

Carmondii had a 2 o'clock tee time at the Half Moon Bay Golf Links Ocean course with Aaron Ginsberg, Chairman of Equity Funding Group(EFG). EFG was the venture capital firm that had provided all of the financial backing for Carmondii's empire. The relationship dated back to the mid-1990's when Carmondii was working his way up the hierarchy of Silicon Valley, moving from start-up to start-up, usually as the CEO brought in by EFG, and cashing in on stock options when the new companies went public. It had been an extremely profitable relationship for both Carmondii and EFG. The Indigo deal had been a goldmine.

The Cyberware business plan had evolved with the expansion of government and corporate emphasis on electronic security. Adeki Singh's programming skills had succeeded in attracting numerous contracts for installation and maintenance of various data processing systems. Revenue had been strong through most of 2004, but there had been a recent downturn in spending by some of Cyberware's key customers. Cash flow was down. Interest rates were going up. The war in Iraq should have been a positive factor for a company like Cyberware, and Carmondii was certain that what was going on now was nothing but a blip on the radar screen.

Wall Street considered Cyberware a "strong buy" due to it's healthy balance sheet and the attractive fiscal 2005 "pro forma" income projections. Even with operations from business generating less cash than in the past, Cyberware currently had over $500 million dollars in the bank. And the company's line of credit at the bank gave Carmondii access to another $500 million dollars.

But Wall Street didn't know that EFG was due $1.5 billion dollars on July 1. It was a hand- shake deal between Carmondii and Ginsberg. If Cyberware was unable to pay the amount when due, Carmondii was personally required to forfeit 10% of his stock each month until the debt was satified. Making the picture even darker for Carmondii was the fact that Ginsberg had made it clear at the time of the divorce (when it became public that Melanie had a 50% interest in the company) that he considered Carmondii as the 100% owner of Cyberware.

By not paying the scheduled special dividend to Melaine, he was already, in effect, borrowing from her. He knew that the conversation that he would have to have with her in the next day or two would not be pretty. And that was just one element of what was rapidly becoming a high risk juggling act. Somehow, he need more time from Ginsberg, more control of Melanie's shares, and an answer from Adeki on the code uplink to the Cayman accounts. What looked like a walk in the park six months ago had turned in to a clusterflock.

As Carmondii stood to leave for the golf course, his eyes caught sight of a gull as it swooped down and captured an unsuspecting fish at the surface of the water. It crossed his mind that, if Aaron Ginsberg was the gull, Anthony Carmondii needed to get to some deeper water.

Have to take off early today. Look for Frank and Melanie in the AM.

Sunday

Beautiful here. Coffee first thing with Roy. Susan and I did church and Ross's. In Margret. Then I did my yard, a bike ride and am now checking email before grilling at my place with Susan. With the 22 I did today, and the 28 from yesterday, I had my first 50 mile weekend.

KC looks like a Thursday pre-noon departure from Bettendorf. For all of us. Arrival in KC around 5 or so. Maybe 6.

Anxious to hear details about Omaha.

More from Frank and Melanie tomorrow.

Be careful out there.

Chapter Two - Continued Blog Date 050606

Cedar Rapids 18April05 - 1145

Melanie flipped her phone closed. She was just finishing dressing after her post-work out shower when the call had come in. "Talk about out of left field," she said to herself. Frank Calhoun had just called her and asked her to join him for a casual dinner at Norm's Place, a neighborhood saloon near Coe College. Not that she was opposed to spending a little more time with Calhoun. She had been throwing not-so-subtle hints at him for months. But he had always pleasantly, and somewhat professional she thought, ignored her innuendos. Now this. Hmmm.

Frank did come clean and say that he had asked Holly for her number. Which made sense as Holly had herself been playing Miss Matchmaker with little disguise. Since her land-line and cell numbers were unlisted, and since he had certainly never asked her directly for her number or email address, Melanie had been caught off-guard by the call. But on the other hand, Frank Calhoun seemed to have an awfully lot of information on his personal hard-drive and Melanie doubted that small impediments to common information like phone numbers would deter a man like Frank.

Maybe tonight he would shed some light on his work. It was public knowledge that he worked for the State of Iowa. The Criminal Investigation department, or something like that. But conversations never went very deep in to exactly what his job was. And Donovan and Holly seemed to understand that it was something that he couldn't or wouldn't talk about. So the conversations always drifted toward other people's work, gossip or to the various avocations of those in the discussion. Calhoun definitely had that teflon gene that could nettle inquiring minds.

She was supposed to meet him at Norm's at 6:30. Was it a date if she met him at the restaurant? He had said that he would be down in Iowa City until mid-afternoon, then wanted to get a ride in on his bike after he got home, and it just might be easier to meet the dinner reservation time if they drove separately. It was Saturday night and if they didn't make the 6:30 sitting, the alternative was a much later time, or Baja Taco's. This was all very logical, but Melanie's intuition barometer suggested that there was more to the story.

In any event, she was looking forward to some one-on-one time with Calhoun. Perhaps it was his slight appearance of disinterest in her that she found appealling. She had had several other men make major efforts to attract her attention since the divorce. The wealthy gray hairs. The nauveau riche technology crowd. The young studs from Gold's. And one incredibly handsome heir to a Greek shipping company whose villa on the French Riviera set a new standard for the phrase, "going to the beach." But Frank had assets too, and she didn't think that he had much interest in her money, which automatically set him apart from most of the others.

For the afternoon, Melanie needed to work on the plans for her new charitable focus, Senior Living in Iowa. She was determined to make the Cedar Rapids program a blueprint for cities throughout the country, using a combination of private and public funding to completely address the financing of medical and residential care for the elderly. She was convinced that for-profit companies needed to allocate more resources to the health and welfare of their employees and the communities in which they were located. Melanie knew that many companies went to extremes to minimize these kind of expenses that did not directly contribute to their bottom-line profits. She knew that was the case at Cyberware.

She had had one of Donovan's junior associates draw up the incorporation and tax exempt status paperwork for Senior Living in Iowa, Inc. Ten professionals from the area had agreed to sit on the voluteer Board of Directors. She was now in a search for a full-time, paid, Executive Director and an assitiant to begin active, daily operations. She had funded a bank account with $100,000, but her ideas included first-year needs of several times that figure. Anthony's email saying that the special dividend was going to be delayed meant that she may have to look at utilizinging some of the assets in the CAA account to keep the SLI initiative on track.

Melanie returned to the downstairs library and sat on the comfortable wingback chair which looked out the windows to the tree-lined back yard. She pulled the folder of SLI resumes from the drawer in the side table and began to read the first letter from a woman in Oklahoma.

Iowa City 18April05 - 1150

Frank sat back in his chair and tried to assess his situation. Melanie had been very gracious on the phone and had agreed to meet him at Norm's for dinner. But he knew that her mind had been running full-speed while thay talked trying to figure out why he had finally decided to call her. He had skillfully (he thought) deflected a brief question from her to that effect. He determined that she had a slightly higher interest in doing something with him than she did in knowing with certainty why he chose to act today. By structuring the evening in a way that had them both driving to the restaurant, he had kept a certain distance from an intimacy with Melaniee which he both feared and, perhaps, desired. He knew that with the on-going investigation of Carmondii and Cyberware, that bad results could occur if he got personally involved with Melanie while delicately prying her knowledge for leads on the case.

Shifting mental gears, Calhoun decided it was late enough to call Raymond Marshall in Chicago, even if it was Saturday. He needed to give Marshall a full up-to-date report on the Cyberware case. After that, he needed to grab some lunch, check downtown with his cousin Mary who ran the Finance Department in the Tippie School of Business at the university, and then head back north to get 40 miles in on the bike before his non-date with Melanie. Mary was doing a study on new initial public offerings (IPOs), and he wanted her to see if she had seen any anomalies in these events which could somehow apply to Cyberware.

He put on his hands-free broker's headset and punched in the number for Raymond Marshall.

Saturday

Mary, her friend Amanda, and a couple of male DNA carriers drove over to the Berkshire Hathaway annual meeting in Omaha. The president of the company is Warren Buffet, one of the most well-respected investors in the country, even in the world. He's a very common guy. Known as the Oracle of Omaha.

Mom had bought some stock that allowed them to request tickets to the meeting. You can't get in without being a shareholder. The tickets didn't come in the mail until yesterday, so it was a rush to put the trip together at the last minute.

Friday

No blog today. Frank and Melanie will return tomorrow.

Be careful out there. Especially those on their way to/from Omaha.

The Oracle of Iowa

Thursday

No addition to the story today. I'm headed down to Ottumwa in a little while to put in an appearance at the visitation for my friend John W.'s mother who passed away Sunday. She and her late husband were good friends of Phil and Margaret. I hope to use the driving time to add some ideas to my outline on Frank and Melanie.

Mary had some nice pictures. I have mixed emotions about how much information is too much information from a parent's perspective. ND was a boys school, which made dating a little problematic most of the time. We had a curfew. There were strict rules on female visitors. And I was pretty clueless. No internet. It was a simpler time. For parents too.

Phil has arranged housing for Susan, Charlie and I for Carrie's wedding. In Incline, at a private residence, kind of B&B, I guess. We get there Thursday night, and return Sunday, leaving Reno for Chicago around noon.

Cousin Kevin completes his Phd work this month. He got part of his graduate work done at Western Illinois. His wife wraps up an MA this month as well. A very educated household.

So good luck to the college girls with finals, and luck also to the student teacher.

Y'all be careful out there.

Tuesday

Just a few lines today. Was planning a ride this afternoon, but work interferred. I'm now headed home to mow my yard.

My efforts with Frank and Melanie continue to be enjoyable. But the additions don't come easily and it has been interesting to make the committment to write. I guess that over the years I have always been able to devote enough time to my business responsibilities, but it makes you wonder what life may have been if I had the natural enthusiasm for my work that I have had for my avocations. For my readers, make sure that you find that balance in finding that career that allows you to live to the desired economic standard while at the same time it gives you that internal thrill to welcome the day.

Off to the yard. Go Bulls!

Be careful out there.

Chapter Two- Continued Blog Date 050106

Iowa City 18April05 - 1045

Calhoun had spent the last two hours doing further research trying to unlock the Byzantine maze that had shrouded Carmondii's movements dating back prior to Indigo Research Corporation. This was hardly the first time that Calhoun had conducted such research. The cabinet contained several folders with names of Carmondii-owned entities or NSTF code-named operations that had shed precious little light on what was becoming for Calhoun (and the whole NSTF) a serious professional challenge.

This morning's effort had actually been mildly enjoyable to Calhoun. About once a month, he had done simple internet searches on Carmondii, starting with Google and then branching out based on any new trails that may have developed since his prior search. Calhoun was amazed at the voracious appetite of the entertainment media at all levels. If there was a Hollywood party or a New York cultural event, mainstream print and video enterprises had details of the celebrities or notables in attendence within minutes. The bloggers would jump in and on-line one-upsmanship would spread like wildfire.

The kind of details that emerged from these more frivilous accountings were not often critical to the investigation. However, Calhoun had learned a number of interesting factoids about Carmondii through this somewhat trailer-trash methodology. Good 'ole Anthony had a strong preference for full-bodied Tuscan red wines. He drove fast when not being whisked along in one of his luxury limos, and had a string of tickets in the Bay Area from cops who didn't like his attitude. He liked the social limelight and would stage press conferences for his frequent gifts to the Carmondii Education Foundation which benefited numerous academic and health research entities. And like most men in powerful positions, there was no shortage of beautiful women following his paths.

Last night, Carmondii had been seen and photographed at the Lakers' game in LA, in a court-side seat just down from Jack Nicholson. There was a stunning blond sitting next to him. The posting on BloggingLALights had her name as Samantha Lodgerton, age 31, modle/actress, with a Newport Beach address. Ms. Lodgerton had the same look as the last three companions who had been on Carmondii's arm over the last six months. "I wonder what happened to Bimbos 1, 2, and 3?" mused Calhoun. In a moment of self-interest, he thought to himsef, "Glad the Lakers lost. Never liked Showtime. Then or now."

Other than the name and address of Carmondii's latest feminine diversion, Calhoun's search had yielded no new relevant information on the man or the case. He was certain that there was a timeline event that would occur in the next few weeks, but he had been stalled since Christmas on a trail that was now almost stone cold. He knew that the connection with Carmondii and Singh was the key. Their history was too intertwined. And there was way too much money at stake representing the interests of Indigo, Cyberware, and possibly Equity Funding Group, the venture capital firm that had been mentioned in the email.

Calhoun made a troubling decision. He picked up his cell phone and called Holly Logan. She answered on the third ring.

"Hello."

"Hi Holly," this is Frank. "Are you free to talk?"

"Frank. What a surprise. Sure. What's up?" said Holly.

"Well," hedged Frank, "I think that I want to ask Melanie out for dinner tonight. What do you think?"

Holly was totally caught off guard. "Frank, you know Donovan introduced me to you, what, seven or eight years ago? In all times that you have called me since then, you have never called for anything except to ask me where Donovan was, or why we were late. This is a little off script."

Frank grimaced. Oops. Maybe the call-the-friend approach was a little obvious for his style. "I guess I was hoping for a more encouraging response, Holly," said Frank, grimacing some more. "Really. What do you think?"

"I love 'ya Frank, but you are truely an idiot," said Holly. "She's really too nice for a Cro Magnon sort like you, who has NOOO functioning brain matter!"

"Say what?" asked Frank. "Do I detect some sarcasm there?"

"Look, Frank. Everyone in Cedar Rapids and Iowa City has been trying to reach whatever those cells are between your ears for the last year for you to ask her out. Are you actually that dense?"

"That's a bit harsh," was all that Frank could offer in response. "Remind me not to call you for a peptalk the next time I have questions about my social life."

"You called me. I call 'em like I see 'em. So are you going to call her? I know that she's not that busy. We were maybe going to do lunch, but I have to go with Donovan the Neanderthal to help him buy a suit for the family thing next week. Do you have her number?"

"Actually, my main reason for calling was to get her number. I didn't realize that I was in for a lecture. I was just making conversation when I asked you what you thought of the idea. Do you know that that Mars and Venus thing is real?" Calhoun was suddenly exhausted.

"Geez, Frank. I was mostly kidding. But I like that sensitive side. So will Melanie." Holly finally gave up the number and rang off saying that she was late for her rendezoux with Donovan.

Calhoun went to the breakroom and took a Coke from the refrigerator. Calling Melanie McDermott was a big step. He had to make sure that the business side of the connection took precedence. He was troubled by the personal feelings that he had developed for her. But the first rule of almost any investigation is to "follow the money." And with no other leads working, Melanie's ties to the Carmondii money tree could no longer be ignored.

He took the final drink from the soda can and dialed.

Monday

Stay tuned for the next episode of Frank and Melanie.

In other news, sounds like everyone has a pretty full life these days. I'm just kind of headed down the same old road. Trying to do a few things with Criterium.

Did get in the rides this weekend. Even in the rain. Taking today off. Will hit the trail again tomorrow. Trying to do 4 days a week for now.

Also got some yard work done. Trying to get some grass to grow in my front parking. We'll see. Had reasonable luck with the Thursday-Friday-Saturday NY Times crosswords. But it sure takes me a long time to get there.

Am enjoying Charlie's posts.

Good luck to all.

Sunday

Another day off for the story. I'm taking Sunday as a day of rest.

Be careful out there.

Chapter Two - Blog Date 042906

Cedar Rapids 18April05 0900

Melanie and Holly turned south onto tree-lined Kings Boulevard for the final leg of their training run. They had met up with about twenty other members of the Cedar County Running Club at 6:45, and after the prerequiste stretching and chit-chat, they took off just after 7:00. The two women ran with the faster-paced group that had immediately separated from the others and set about churning out mile-after-mile at an eight minute pace. Today's route was drawn for those looking to complete either 15 or 20 miles. Melanie and Holly were scheduled for the shorter route, but had elected to go the extra distance at a reduced pace.

Holly was definitely going to run in the Green Bay Marathon at the end of May, and she needed long runs each of the next two weekends before tapering the last three weeks before the race. Melanie had no plans to race before the Chicago Marathon in October, but she was glad to support Holly, and by keeping her base at a high level, the more focussed training later in the summer would be that much easier. Besides, she loved running, and it was a great activity for general socializing and for meeting new friends.

They cruised through the last 5 miles in just over forty-five minutes, reaching their cars in the parking lot of Panera Bread as the other twenty milers headed into the coffee shop for treats.

"Going in?", asked Holly as she opened the trunk of her car.

"Not this morning", said Melanie. "I need to get home and check on some things. Maybe a late lunch? Are you doing anything later?"

"I'll have to give you a call. I told Donovan that I would help him pick out a new suit for his parents' anniversary party next month. He such a klutz. You'll have your cell?", asked Holly.

"Sure", replied Melanie. "But if you have stuff to do, that's ok. Just give me a call. See 'ya."

Melanie gave a final wave to Holly, and stepped into her Jaguar XGS which came to immediate life at her twist of the ignition switch. She pulled out of the parking lot and onto 27th Street and headed East. Although the wine from last night had made the early appointment to run with the group a bit fragile, the fresh air had invigorated her and she almost felt the runners' "high" during those last cool down miles. She knew that she could easily join Holly in Green Bay, and have a reasonable time, but she was determined to break 3:25 in her next marathon, and her conditioning wasn't there yet. Chicago in the Fall. And if the moon and stars lined up correctly that day, she would definitely qualify for next year's Boston Marathon.

Melanie McDermott had run some track and cross-country in high school, but had not got the distance running bug until after law school. During her under-graduate days at St. Mary's of Notre Dame, she had concentrated on school, with an occasional tryst with a friend from across the road at "that boys' school." She had done well enough in the classroom and on the LSAT that several big name law schools offered her full rides. She had ended up at Stanford on the recommendation of her distant "Crazy Uncle Howard" who thought the Ivies were over-rated unless you wanted to work on Wall Street. And he was right. Particularly when Silicon Valley became Ground Zero for the technology revolution.

Melanie made a turn north on Marion Road for six blocks and then pushed the electronic control on her visor as she turned left into the entance of the gated sub-division known as McKelvey Heights. The automated barrier arm lifted and Melanie passed the un-manned sentry shack. There were nineteen homes on the former evening pasture for Phil McKelvey's dairy cows. The money had finally been too much for Old Man McKelvey to ignore, so he had collected his price, sold the cows and took up residence in tax-friendly Reno. The developer had created the plat for twenty building lots of two acres each, with an initial asking price of $300,000 per acre.

Surprisingly, there were takers, and when Melanie came to town in late 2002, only the 2 prime lots at the far end of the development were left for sale, and the price had risen to $750,000 per acre. She bought both lots, 4 acres at $750,000 per. Do the math. The multi-gabled house took a year to build and had everything the designer could think of included in the 5000 square feet of living space. Melanie enjoyed the seclusion and comfort of her lavish Alpine home.

Melanie punched a seconded button on the visor and the garage door raised for her. After pulling in, she cut the engine, stepped from the car and opened the door to the spacious mud room. She hung her keys on the hook by the door, grabbed a bottled water from the secondary refrigerator, and walked through the kitchen to the library located just off the main-floor great room. She had not checked her email since yesterday afternoon. She also wanted to check her Capital Asset Advisor's account and see if the Cyberware special dividend had been deposited. Even with her legal education and experience, she had trouble following some of the transactions that Anthony completed at the company. This latest one on the special dividend gave her an uneasy feeling.

The computer had been turned on automatically by a sensor when she had walked into the library. "Henri (the home interior designer) was a greedy son-of-a-bitch," Melanie thought to herself, "but I like that automated sensor stuff!" She typed in her password and her Yahoo home page came to view. She had five new emails, four of which were ads. The fifth was from Anthony. She opened it, but it was several paragraphs long and was talking about too many technical things for her current level of interest. Slipping to the final few sentences of the email, she read his final point which was, as she had anticipated, that a complication had developed on the dividend. They needed to talk.

Sure, Anthony. Let's talk. Its only 15 million dollars. Tell me a new lie. Tell me that you're not an asshole.

With no need to check her CAA account on the deposit of the dividend, Melanie rose from her chair and headed upstairs for a shower to cool down her now aggravated mental health.

Friday

No blog today. Frank and Melanie will return tomorrow. Charlie has some action on her site.

Chapter One - Continued Blog Date 042706

Iowa City 18April05 0800

Calhoun turned away from the computer, rose and stepped over to the filing cabinet that sat in the corner of the office, to the left of his desk. He smiled at the low-tech top lock on the cabinet, and the key that he had left in the slot yesterday. Most of the hard copy documents in the cabinet's files were available under the Freedom of Information Act or, if not, could probably be found on the internet by an enterprising spook doing a Google search. He opened the top drawer and pulled the file marked, "Indigo Research Corporation", known as Indigo by the public (and a very interested NSTF).

In addition to copies of the 1999 Delaware incorporation documents, including by-laws, initial Board resolution and list of incorporators, the file also had 8x10 glossy photos of Anthony Carmondii and Adeki Singh. Calhoun liked to know the faces of the individuals who were part of his cases. It gave a certain physical substance to an otherwise inanimate processing of data. He already had taken a disliking to Carmondii. His dark black hair was combed straight back in a classic Mafioso style. Dark eyes. Mediterranean skin. A facial expression that suggested he had already measured his exit from the room.

Indigo had obtained a number of large Federal and state government research grants immediatly upon incorporation, suggesting that the company's founders were especially well-connected to the military-industrial complex that has been notoriously known to benefit preferred providers. The time leading up to the year 2000 had meant big profits to tech firms who were in the business of insuring stability for the world's information systems when the clock literally struck the twenty-first century. Indigo had used a series of off-shore arrangements with Indian and Pakistanian engineering companies to leverage their primary US contracts to huge monetary advantage. Calhoun again laughed to himself. He was not aware of a single incident of computer malfunction in connection with the passage into the year 2000. "A sucker's born everyday." And with Uncle Sam writing those checks, guess who pays.

Neither Carmondii or Singh were owners of Indigo. Carmondii had been brought in from a Palo Alto software company to be the CEO. Singh came with Carmondii as a special assistant since Carmondii's technical expertise with computers did not extend beyond the "on" switch. With the contracts from Washington DC and the states of New York and California already in hand, Indigo was a start-up rocket ship. Many other contracts came in with short durations and big mark-ups. For 15 months, there was no end to "up" and the owners reaped nearly 2 billion in net revenue. The company was not "public", that is, the shares of the company's stock were not traded on an exchange. The profits ended up in a maze of off shore trusts that had been intricately arranged beforehand. The IRS was left shooting blanks at smoke. The law suits were still buried in Tax Court. The prognosis for the government was not good.

Carmondii and Singh had returned to California and picked up a struggling tech company that had been a victim of the March 2000 tech bubble burst. In perhaps one of the only questionable decisions that Calhoun could attribute to Carmondii's business history, Carmondii had the stock of the nearly bankrupt company acquired by one of his previously existing California entities, Cyberware, Inc. There must have been an element of greed that Carmondii could not control at the time of the deal. Normally, this type of corporate acquisition would be structured as an asset purchase to avoid the possible dirty laundry that might exist in the history of the acquired company. Calhoun theorized that the significant tax loss carry-forwards that were on the company's books were just too large of a tax planning opportunity for Carmondii to ignore. By buying the stock, Cyberware Inc. could use those tax losses against its own income. Purchasing the stock was ultimately worth several million in tax savings for Cyberware.

But Carmondii had been too cute for his own good. He had forgotten that the same attorneys who had come up with the creative tax dodge on the acquistion had also been the estate planning wizards who had placed ownership of his various assets into a number of trusts, parnerships and limited liability companies to save taxes down the road.

After all the paperwork on the acquisition was dry, and filed with the Secretary of State in Sacramento, a second year law clerk informed the lead partner that their primary file on Cyberware was incomplete. The file had not contained the most current stock Certificate of Transfer that showed that the beneficial owner of Generation Skip Trust A, which owned 50% of the stock, was Melanie McDermott.

Wednesday

Well, for the folks looking for an addition to the yet-to-be-named blook, you'll have to wait another day. All you have here tonight is general ramblings.

I snuck out a little early from work and did a nice ride out by the Davenport Country Club hills. The development on the far East end of Forest Grove Road is amazing. They have moved dirt all the way to I-80 on the North side of the road near the dead-end at the road that heads to Black Hawk JH. That farm homestead right before you cross the interstate is now just a couple of acres with the housing development all around it.

Good ride, but with the development out there comes traffic. Lots of that too. I came back by way of Valley Drive, up past the high school , and at 6PM, there's lots of people in a hurry to get somewhere. A little stressful for a rider, but I'm not sure that I like those conditions less than the factors on a crowded bike path. I was out for about 90 minutes which is a good workout, particularly with the hills. In a couple of weeks, I'll start increasing things, at least for a weekend ride. But there's no hurry at this point.

The post-April 15th work environment has been ok. I have lots to do. One of the by-products of the hectic times in late March and early April is that a person does get in the habit of working pretty hard. One of my goals now is to carry that required work perspective into the more normal times and be more productive. Criterium needs me to be productive.

Charlie, Susan and I are booked for travel to Reno out of Chicago on July 13th. Return July 16th. Direct flights. Expensive. Uncle Phil is doing some inquiry on accomodations.

Mary has her new laptop. She has the hassle of re-acquiring billfold essentials as a result of a small problem from last week.

So anyway, the story. I'm doing it to make myself do it. I know that it is not Pulitzer Prize journalism, but I have this writing gene that I need to give air to. Doing the blog has been fun and meaningful to me, and I will continue to add thoughts, opinions and document family history. But there are lots of times where I really don't have that much to say, and I don't want the blog to be just a plain record of what food I like, what I thought 40 years ago, or why I have a particular hat in the attic. (Actually, I don't have an attic, and I think Mom has gradually sanitized her attic of my stuff.) And one of the truely important things to me is that you maintain an interest in wanting to read whatever it is that I write.

So the blook is my own effort at mental therapy, the challenge of coming up with multiple weekly additions, and in keeping your interest. Those two-to-three page entries take me around 2 hours or so to write. I don't have the focus to do that everyday. Hopefully, both weekend days and one or two days during the week. I'm thinking 250-275 pages to completion. Which may take us to Christmas. Who knows. I may get on a roll this Summer and make progress in quicker strides. It is a work in progress. And I do not have it all planned out. Don't be afraid to make suggestions.

Have a great day. Be careful out there.

Chapter One- Continued Blog Date 042506

Iowa City 18April05 0730

Calhoun unlocked the front door of Federales with a swipe of his secure master identity chip in his faux Ironman Triathalon wrist watch. He chuckled to himself at the James Bond-ishness of some of the procedures that were now in full operation, which at one time had merely been some screenwriter's fantasies. "Kirk here. Beam me up, Scotty." He tossed the empty coffee cup in the waste basket in the entryway and swiped his identity chip again at the interior access door pad. The door catch electronically released, the door opened and he stepped into the office.

He passed through an open "bull pen" area with several empty cubicles usually occupied by "good guy" spies who spent their days, and often their nights, reading state and federal securities filings, financial reports issued by public companies, and documents from various judiciary procedings. Think Robert Redford in Three Days of The Condor. Calhoun's windowless private office was at the far end of the room. It too had a secure locking system to which he applied for a third time the identity chip's magic.

The office was about fifteen feet square. Plenty of room for a standard government-issue, gun-metal gray desk, two side chairs, a couple of bookcases and two four-drawer filing cabinets. The most important piece of furniture was a side desk upon which rested Calhoun's computer. The kid from Langley who had been in last month to upgrade the office's technology package appeared to Calhoun as hardly being old enough to own a driver's license. But he knew his stuff and had stayed on site an extra couple of days to insure that everyone was up to speed with the new operating system which linked all of the NSTF agents.

Calhoun sat down at his desk and swivelled his chair to face his computer. He flipped on the master control, the global surge protector, and the local access switch in sequence. Once the machine came to life, he logged on to the local area network (LAN), and then went through the NSTF secure linkup procedure using the GPS-controlled random number generator creatively imbedded in his desk clock. Finally, he reached his personal work space on the NSTF system.

A copy of the email had been sent to Calhoun last night after his conversation with the San Mateo analyst. There had been some concern initially over the wisdom of putting the information into the NSTF electronic system, and as to whether a new search warrant was legally required. In the end, late West Coast time, Raymond Marshall's legal eagles and their counterparts in California determined that the transmission was covered by earlier clearances. God, he hated attorneys. The email now sat in Calhoun's inbox.

The message read:

Adeki,

The VC guys think that they are legally protected if they take their backside cut three years after the issue date. We need to make sure that the trojan door is time sensitive accordingly. Mel won't last. She's already making noise. I'm headed to CI next week to make arrangements for at least four parties. Let's meet at Dante's on Pier 39 on the 4th for lunch.

AC

The message was time-dated 2:35PM May 25, 2001.

Calhoun immediately knew some of the particulars that would not be evident to an uninformed reader. Adeli was Adeki Singh, the former Cyberware systems engineer now working out of the goodness of his heart on some nebulous research project for Hawkeye Nation. VC was short for Venture Capitalists. Calhoun interpreted the use in the email to refer to the Equity Funding Group, a very private group of very rich men who had become even richer in the go-go 90's by investing in start-up tech companies.

CI must have referred to the Cayman Islands, a popular off-shore location for holding money in accounts that may not be accessible by you local IRS agent.

AC was obviously Anthony Carmondii.

And Mel was Melanie McDermott. And she was making noise back in May of 2001, maybe two years before the divorce.

Monday

Frank and Melanie are taking the day off. Me too.

Chapter One - Blog Date 042306

New News and Old News Cedar Rapids 18April05 0635

After a quick pass through the Starbucks drive-up for a grande Americano, Calhoun pulled on to the southbound entrance ramp of I-380 at Olde Coventry Road for his commute to the office on the East side of Iowa City. He had threatened himself repeatedly over the last five years to make a move closer to work, but the family compound that he had inherited from his folks was simply too much a part of him to let go. To call it a compound was a bit of a stretch, but there were two and a half wooded acres and one out-building that was perfect housing for the toys and equipment of his varied intrests. Any of the alternatives that he had seen near Iowa City not only had lousy economic outcomes, but they also were without any intrinsic appeal.

As he came up to cruising speed for the twenty-five minute ride south, Calhoun also gave a thought to lobbying his boss for an increased mileage allowance. The Ford Expedition that he had bought last year was a nice ride, but with his frequent visits to the Big K Pit Stop, and the ever-increasing price of gasoline, he was developing a new appreciation for the expense reimbursement provisions of his employment contract.

He thought for a moment of giving his boss in suburban Chicago a call to make his case for the increase, but decided that it may be a little too early to needle Raymond Marshall on a Saturday morning. Marshall was a not a man without humor, but Calhoun doubted if a discussion of mileage rates would be well-received at this hour. Maybe he would make the call after he had had a chance to review the email from California and could have real business to add to the conversation.

Calhoun remembered his first call from Marshall three years before. Calhoun had been with the Iowa Department of Criminal Investigation (IDCI) for about ten years at that point. He had arrived at the IDCI after having taken an early retirement as a Lt. Colonel from the Air Force when it became apparent that future promotion in the Service was not to be. He had crossed swords, figuritively, with one too many generals and was facing a future of endless paper- pushing which was simply too depressing for him to contemplate.

He had liked the thought of a return to Iowa and the familiar territory of his youth. An old high school classmate with whom he had shared a few drinks at their 20 year reunion and who had risen to some kind of mucky-muck status in Des Moines politics had suggested that he consider the IDCI. The IDCI was looking for military-trained personnel to staff a new division to monitor the expanding gambling industry in the state. A match was made and Calhoun eventually became the lead investigator for the IDCI on the operators and money sources of the state's casinos and tracks.

Then came 9-11. Enron. Sarbannes-Oxley. Anti-money laundering. The Patriot Act. The creation of the Department of Homeland Security. Almost overnight, Calhoun began working with so many Federal agents and agencies that nights spent checking out the losers on the Mississippi Belle became a thing of the past. Tracking money flow, off shore accounting, security transactions and electronic transmissions took Calhoun into a whole new circle of modern sleuths. He was good at it, and when Raymond Marshall was named to head the Federal Department of Justice's National Securities Task Force (NSTF), Calhoun was his choice to lead the Midwest team.

That first call was really not an offer. Although agents of his position normally have some say in their own transfers, Calhoun's superior at the IDCI made it immediately clear that he was from thereon on assignment to the NSTF. The transfer paperwork had already been signed. Good luck. Nice to have known you.

As it had turned out, the NSTF had been a good fit for Calhoun. The other field agents were all bright, dedicated people who had yet to be seriously infected by the malaise of Federal bureaucratic laziness. Raymond Marshall spent most of his time in either New York, Chicago or San Francisco and kept his staff away from the Washington Beltway where progress was most often measured in nanometers.

Calhoun slowed as he approached the clover-leaf intersection with I-80 just West of Coralville. He exited on the East-bound ramp behind two 18-wheelers. He was always amazed at the truck traffic on I-80. The Main Street of The Midwest. "What town would want this many trucks on Main Street?" he asked himself.

He came back up to speed for this short leg of his commute over to Dodge Street. His thoughts returned to Melanie McDermott. And to the email. He mentally tried to timeline the sequence of Carmondii's email with the company's initial public offering (IPO), the divorce, Melanie's return to Iowa, and the patent infringement case that Carmondii's comapny, Cyberware, Inc., had won at least two years ago. Cyberware had a current market value of nearly five billion dollars, and according to Calhoun's memory, Melanie McDermott and Anthony Carmondii still contolled nearly sixty-five percent of the corporation. Calhoun thought, "A billion here and a billion there. Pretty soon, you're talking about REAL money. I wonder how iron-clad that divorce decree really is?"

Calhoun pulled off I-80 at the Dodge Street-Highway 1 exit, turned North for a half mile and entered the business park on the Northeast corner of the intersection of the state highway and the interstate. He parked in front of an unmarked building known to the locals as, " Federales."

Saturday - The Prologue

He woke to the mid-range, constant chirping of the sparrows or wrens in the trees in his backyard. His mind registered that it must be just after 5AM given the amount of light beginning to bring the new day to being. That thought was confirmed as he looked over at the bedside clock radio that digitally reflected 6:15, which he automatically reduced by an hour since he had not adjusted the clock the week before for the switch to Day Lights Savings Time.

Frank Calhoun tried to mentally retrace his steps from the night before, but the cloud from the wine made clarity an iffy proposition. He remembered meeting Donovan at The Italian Cellar, and how they were joined after dinner by Donovan's girlfriend, Holly Logan. Holly had called Donovan on his cell phone during pre-dinner drinks to say that her boss had asked her to make some last minute adjustments to a contact proposal that had to go out Fed-Ex that evening and that she wouldn't be able to join them until later. When she did arrive, she had brought along the much-talked about Melanie McDermott, and the wine flowed like water.

In a fleeting moment of uncertainty, Calhoun looked over to his side. No. He was alone.

Melanie McDermott had come home to Cedar Rapids two years ago after divorcing her husband and dot-com company partner with a settlement that made her divorce lawyer-shark the talk of Silicon Valley. Somehow, Holly's boss at Capital Asset Advisor's in Iowa City had connected with Melanie and she immediately became CAA's largest client. Although Holly did not work directly on Melanie's portfolio, she had sat in on a number of the early meetings and, since Holly was the only other female in these meetings, there had been some natural bonding. The friendship went in to full blossom when they met unexpectedly at the start of the Drake Relays Marathon that first Spring.

Calhoun rose from his bed and slowly made his way across the room to the bathroom. He flipped the light switch on and looked in the mirror. His now three-day old beard was flecked with gray, his hair was crinkled with sleep. The squinty eyes showed redness. Life had not been unkind to Calhoun, but it was mornings like this that reminded him that he was no longer the 35 year bullet-proof party animal from his earlier years. "Jesus," he said aloud. "What in the world made us order that last bottle?" Thinking of the question to himself, the answer was pretty easy to discern: the first 4 bottles.

Everytime over the last 18 months that Holly had included Melanie in one of their social gatherings, Calhoun was left with conflicting feelings. Some of these events had been just casual meetings for drinks after work. Some had been at formal civic functions. At some, they were both there as singles. At others, they were there with dates. Never were they anyplace as a couple. Calhoun had lived near the edge at times, but he didn't date the subjects of his investigations. He wasn't that stupid. And the empty bed showed that at least that part of his professional resume was still intact.

He stepped into the shower and turned on the water to as hot as he could stand. Although it was Saturday, he had no choice but to head back to the office to follow up on the call that had come in from San Mateo late yesterday afternoon. An analyst with the California Attorney General's office had uncovered a disturbing email on the hard drive of an old computer that had come to them on a subpoena from an Enron-related case. The email was from Melanie's former husband/partner Anthony Carmondii and the receipient was a systems engineer who had work on the code for the software that had been the big breakthrough for the company. As Calhoun's luck might have it, the systems engineer was now working on a high-profile contract with the University of Iowa. For free. Since he too had taken a truckload of money out of his deal with Carmondii.

The shower made him feel human again. As he dressed, he though again of last night. He recalled how Melanie had lightly kissed his cheek as they left the restaurant, and had squeezed his hand saying, "Frank, we really should do this more often. Are you ever going to ask me out on a date?" He had just smiled in answer. It was tempting.

He wondered how much she knew of the details in her former husband's incriminating email.

Thursday

Got out on the bike path today for a nice ride. Windy, but warm and sunny.

I had full intension of doing a longer blog tonight, but Mary called and we talked accounting and taxes for over half an hour, and I have to get Margret home before dark! Maybe tomorrow.

Be careful out there.

Wednesday

Still clearing the debris out of my office.

Hope to add additional pics to the Criterium website as they become available.

My target for getting back to a meaningful daily entry into the blog is this weekend. I realize that there hasn't been much to read lately. I've been distracted.

Be careful out there.

Tuesday

Just a brief update. Tax Day came and went with the usual chaos. We will now do some investigating to see what may have slipped through the cracks, if anything.

Did have some wine last night, but got in reasonably early. Slept in today and will need to do some work around the house later. The yard is calling me. Also plan to get in a ride this afternoon. Today is truely the start of my training season.

I'll get back into the blog later in the week and try to add some meat to the literary diet that has been pretty meager these last few weeks.

Thanks for your support. Good luck on all your projects.

Be careful out there.

Sunday - Easter

Just a quick note.

It was a nice day, but not the best since we all weren't together. Rainy. And I kept coming back to the office to get some things done. Still don't have it all covered. Tomorrow will be a busy day.

I have few memories of Easter as a child. It just wasn't a lot other than a more elaborate service at Church. I remember having dyed eggs a few times. And eating (too many usually) of those candy eggs with the white sugary insides. Getting pictures of the girls all dressed up at Duck Creek or Vander Veer are what I think of now.

Love to all.

Saturday

Charlie looks like the sole visitor for Easter. Mare has a project to complete in IC. Sounds like several of the teams in her Investments Analysis class have holed up for the weekend to get a handle on their assignment. Its not like I haven't spent some Easter weekends doing taxes. As I am now. I hope Mare is successful in finding a career that allows for a more normal life when she gets to my age.

And the time window for Kate was just too narrow.

Miss you both.

Martha's commment about Grant Wood getting his ideas while milking a cow does strike close to home. In my younger years, say through my mid-30's, my ideas came when shooting baskets by myself at some available hoop, whether it be in the barn, the gym at the time, or an outdoor court somewhere. In the last 15 years, most of my thinking has been done while on the bike. (There was that one year of running.) The business plan for Criterium came on a bike ride last summer.

Hope to cookout tonight. But it has clouded up in the last couple of hours, so who knows. A little FFF for sure.

More tomorrow. Be careful out there.

Friday

I don't have much to add today. Enjoyed the comments from yesterday. The IC girls had a little excitement last night.

Had a nice card from Kate this week. Thanks.

FFF on Saturday night. At least for dinner.

Down to the hard core stragglers in the tax return business. My buddy Roy is at the top of that list. Pretty full day tomorrow and probably part of Sunday afternoon. Monday for extensions.

Susan gets another blog DOD (Daughter of the Day) award for going over to IC to pick up Charlie for a longer weekend.

I think that I'll try to go to a couple of local high school girls track meets in the next couple of weeks. I have always enjoyed the girls' meets more than the boys'. The girls tend to show their effort more than the boys. (Anybody remember those trips to Des Moines for the girls' state meet? Was, and still is, a favorite of mine. They run state as a co-ed meet now and I doubt if I venture back to Drake until they go back to a separate girls' meet.) The Jesse Day meet at Brady was called to an end early last night because of weather. That meet is too big with too many events (both boys and girls) and goes on forever. I like the 8 team girls varsity invite where there is only one or two heats and most events are run as finals. If they start field events at 5, they're done at 7:30 or 8.

So everybody have a good night. Be careful out there.

Thursday

Not much to say today. Had to get 3 big returns completed for out-of-town clients and to UPS. The last one got to the drop-off box at 6:30 this evening just as the truck was pulling up for the last pick-up. I felt like I was in a sprint all day.

Different type of race tomorrow. Two very antsy local clients with big numbers. Not Roy-type of numbers, but big ones none the less. And they want their stuff. Tomorrow.

The cleaning lady comes to the office on Monday and Thursday nights. The days have been so concentrated these last few weeks that it seems like she's here every night.

I sent Mary a news article from the DM Register on the Prarie Lights Bookstore in IC. Her attraction to Iowa began, at least partially, by her exposure to the bookstore when Aunt Martha took her there at the end of cooking camp 12-15 years ago. Mary, feel free to correct my angle on that story.

The Register used to market itself as The Paper Iowa Depends Upon. When they decided 15-20 years ago to pull in their tentacles and concentrate on Des Moines, they lost their oomph with a big swath of Iowa readers, me included. The sports section, called The Big Peach because of an orangish-tinted paper, was once one of the best in the country. I also remember Daddy saying how one of his supervisor friends learned about government by reading The Register. It was a paper that Mother got in the mail a day late when we were on the farm. (Correct me if I have that wrong, Martha.)

I have got in the habit of buying The Register daily again for our Starbucks coffee group. Coverage of Iowa politics is still better there than in the local fish wrap. And It gives a few more things of general Iowa interest too. RAGBRAI. Iowa State stories. Its just old news by the time you read it in the paper.

I have no clue what any of this means. Not exactly a finely pieced-together entry, but you get what you get.

Be careful out there.

Wednesday PM

Just a note before heading home.

Greg Maddux and the Cubs beat the Reds today. He's about 40 and his heater is in the high mid-80's compared to the mid-90's for power pitchers. The young-ish Bulls beat the hot Nets last night in a game that they had to win to keep their playoff hopes alive.

A couple of pretty good examples of learned effort and determination. Lots of times, the individual or the team with the glowing credentials doesn't come out on top. That's why they play the games. And the same holds true in life.

I encourage you all to keep working hard at your own game. It matters.

Be careful out there.

Wednesday

Martha advises me that Daddy's birthday is actually the 19th, which I am sure is correct. I had consulted the copy of his obituary that I have here in the office before I made that entry yesterday and the obit incorrectly lists his birthday as the 10th. I made no effort to evaluate the date before using it in the blog. Goes to show you. You have to be careful of your sources. And the newspaper isn't a very reliable one.

Daughter of the Day goes to Susan for making the unscheduled trip to Iowa City last night to get Mary a temporary computer fix. And kudos to Mom for letting Susan use her car. We're all behind you Mare!

More taxes today. The phone is pretty busy.

The news on the Hawkeyes first brought to you on 4000 Days is in the papers today.

Have a great day!

Tuesday

Thanks to Katie for making an entry yesterday. I totally forgot.

This is the time of tax season when lots of returns go out the door each day. Items that had been holding a return up are resolved and the return is printed. Both the preparer and the taxpayer want to get the return filed. There is a sense of urgency that doesn't really hit the players until April 1st. Now, things get done. Were it so the rest of the year.

Interesting article in the Life section of USA Today today about a woman author who has written several books. Her current book was discussed in the article. She does one book per year, usually in 9 months time, and already has her 2007 and 2008 works completed. I envy that kind of organizational skill, luck, or dogged determination to be that far ahead, with economic benefits to boot.

Word is that the basketball Hawkeyes have lost at least two underclassmen and a couple of coaches. Numbers have had the remaining team members playing 4 on 4 for lack players. Can anyone say, "not even the NIT next year?"

I missed noting that yesterday was Grandpa H's birthday. He would have been 96. His and Mother's wedding anniversary is Thursday the 13th. They were married in 1936. Do the math.

I see in the paper that Terry Bradshaw is donating a lot of his memorabilia items to Louisiana Tech, his alma mater. Superbowl rings, MVP trophies and other stuff. His comments in the news releases were to the effect that, "I played in those games and I have the memories. That's enough for me, and this may help my school by displaying tangible evidence of post-college success." Terry Bradshaw has had a checkered history. Although he had great success in leading the Steelers to 4 Super Bowl wins, he was always considered a bit of a country bumkin, a rep that I think he encouraged at times. (Terry Hanratty out of ND was the poster boy of that collegiate class, but he had very limited success in the pros.)

Bradshaw has had a number of personal problems after football, and within the last few years he either announced it or it came out in the press that he suffered from depression. He continues to play the good ol' boy in TV football studio shows. He's just another public figure whose life I would not care to trade for. Bring me another messy tax return.

So anyway. I live.

Be careful out there.

Sunday PM

Just a confirmation that I was thinking about this again this afternoon.

Margret has been on the streets today.

Everybody have a great week.

Sunday AM

Sorry about yesterday. I basically forgot to get to the blog.

Another pretty nice, but cool morning here for Palm Sunday. And I am celebrating here with a few tax returns.

I have managed to get almost nothing done this past week except stuff here at the office. No yard work and no biking. At this point, I'm just stretching to get to the 17th and then get back in control.

Had a couple of nice notes from Charlie this week. Thanks.

Margret will be out for a spin later today.

So I'll check back later today. Get out there and enjoy the day.

Friday

There is officially no blog today

Thursday

Hard to believe how fast the days go right now.

We end up with some clients getting us information this time of year that you find hard to believe. They might think that they have handled a transaction totally on point, and in fact, they are 110% wrong in the other direction. People and money are funny. If someone says that its not about the money, bank on this, its about the money.

It is clear that I need to reduce my tax responsibilities next year. Personally and professionally it has become very unrewarding. The ideal situation would be for Bill and I to get a new preparer whose responsibilities would take over returns from which both he and I need to detach ourselves.

I think I have created an exit strategy with Criterium which is a very viable plan. But it is not unlike a career change that many people my age do not have the flexibility to make. Say the guy on the line at the GM plant for the last 25 years. He would probably have to go through some substantial retraining to achieve a comparable new position. And 55 year olds have to be very careful with changes that involve benefits, insurances and retirement plans.

The ballplayer with the hitting streak that was was discussed here earlier this week had the streak stopped today at 38.

Wish I was more creative. Just too tired.

Be careful out there.

Wednesday

No blog tonight.

Did have dinner with Mary and her friend Amanda. At Granite City. Good time. Had one of the most annoying waitesses ever. Way over the top, cloyingly helpful and attentive.

I handed out Criterium Financial hats to the girls. Charlie, Mary has yours.

No change in the news here business-wise. Still have lots to do.

Susan's parade got rained on at work when the e-letter that she sent out to museum patrons got criticized openly by one of her bosses. I had seen it and thought it was a good piece. The parts the boss was critical of were immaterial. Goes to show you, no good effort will go unpunished by narrow-minded executives. Susan, just keep at it. You did a nice job.

Mary won the sub-clan picks contest. She was the only one with two of the Final Four, Florida and UCLA. She had Duke winning, but everyone else had worse results, including Lucy. Mary wins Daughter of the Day on the blog as her prize.

I guess that technically, there was a blog tonight. We could maybe debate at some future date what amount of blog constitutes a blog. But that is way too deep for me now. I think it does constitute a Sienfeld episode.

Be careful out there.

Tuesday Evening

A little more information on the basketball picks.

For the Horan Clan sheet, I had to jump onto the site on the Thursday morning right before the games started to meet the entry deadline. I literally ran through the games and didn't keep a copy to see who I had picked until Phil gave me the heads-up before the Final Four. I had visited to see the standings, but never went to my sub-sheet to see exactly where I was winning or losing. Blind luck.

Interestingly, to me anyway, is that I won the office pool here as well with a pick sheet I had completed at a separate time. On that sheet, I had both LSU and UCLA in the Final Four, although I had LSU winning it all. There were 20 some entries in that pool and I was the only one with two of the Final Four teams.

This probably means that I won't win again for 20 years or so. Or in more relevant terms, while 4000 Days keep trucking along, I will not likely have the pleasure of a similarly successful presagement. (Is that even a word?)

There was a story in the Life section of USA Today yesterday about awards being now handed out for "blooks", definded as blogs that have turned into books. See lulu.com. The first winner is some gal who spent a year writing daily about each of the recipes in Julia Child's seminal 1961 cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Can you imagine how bored a stranger would be if forced to read 4000 Days daily for a year?

Mary is headed over here tomorrow to get some computer repairs started. We have a tentative plan for dinner. I'm looking forward to it.

All for today. Be careful out there.

Tuesday

Just a short note on the Horan Clan challenge.

I am humbled by my brilliance. The Oracle speaks.

Monday

Beautiful day here today. Almost 7PM and still light outside. Loving it.

We all have issues. Mary's computer died. Susan's office is in turmoil. Kate has bullet holes in the classroom windows. Charlie loses her mail.

Baseball has started. Cubs win! Cubs win! Cubs win! The opening game on ESPN was the White Sox and after the rain delay, they got done around 1:30AM this morning. Not that I was watching the game.

Here's a little factoid. In baseball, hitting streaks (getting at least one hit in each game) can carryover from last year to this year. Jimmy Rollins of the Phillies ended last year with a 36 game streak. By getting a hit in his first game today, his streak is at 37. (I'm not sure of the rules if the player participates in post-season games after the regular season like the World Series.) And consecutive hits in consecutive at-bats carryover from game to game. (Again, post-season games are different, I think.)

To the contrary in golf, a player making consecutive birdies cannot carry a streak over to the next round, not even if it is the same tournament. If a guy birdies the last 4 holes on Saturday and keeps it going through the first 5 holes on Sunday, he is given credit for 4 consecutive birdies on Saturday, but that's it for that round. Sunday is a new day and he has a streak of 5 birdies to start the round, but unless he keeps it going, his streak for Sunday is 5.

Then there is the business of the Grand Slam in golf, winning the 4 major tournaments each year (The Masters, The US Open, The British Open and The PGA). Bobby Jones is recognized as the only guy to do it. Tiger Woods has the "Tiger Slam" in which he won all 4 in a row, but one was in the prior or subsequent year. Tennis has a similar recognition rule.

Basketball generally recognizes consecutive free throws, regardless of the games.

Margret was on the streets yesterday! I got home late in the afternoon and it was threatening rain, but I was doing a little housekeeping in the garage and I decided to give a try at firing her up. Lo and behold, the battery was live and, after a little convincing, the ole 391 4 barrell roared to life. I hope to get her out for a longer ride this weekend.

All for today. Be careful out there.

Sunday

Just to let everyone know that I still live. Just not very creatively.

Anyone sleep through day light savings time? Susan and I saw a lady come in to church this morning right at the end of the service.

Hope everyone has a good week.

Saturday

Hello April!

Hope the girls in Iowa City had a good day with Mom.

Taxes and basketball.

My creative juices are gone.

Be careful out there.