During a layover this afternoon at the George [H.W.] Bush Intercontinental Airport in Houston, I saw a Starbucks barista singing along to the falsetto part of the Smiths' "William, It Was Really Nothing." He was not attacked angry mobs and strung up. (Nobody noticed him but his co-workers and me.) Also, the bookshop next door had books by John Edwards and Paula Poundstone on the front table, and several travel guides to Cuba in stock in the back. So much for my worst cultural stereotypes. Anyway, I'm back. Thank you, guest bloggers, and Happy New Year, everyone.

(Photo above can be found here. And yes, it's as weird in real life as it looks here.)

****

Oh, and if you're as big a fan of the ridiculous items in the SkyMall catalog as I am, let me assure you that one of the dumbest items available, the personalized branding iron for your barbecued meats, is still on offer -- and please note the initials in the catalog photo:



I gather that item first showed up in the catalog a couple of years ago. I'm sure the initials seemed like a swell idea at the time.