1. Happy Bloomsday.
2. Stately, plump James Enge was biking last night when he (i.e. I) realized something about being middle-aged. I don’t have any first wind anymore. As recently as my thirties (which is not too recent, I guess), when I exercised I would start out with a lot of energy, then flag after a while (15 or 20 seconds, perhaps) and finally get a second wind as endorphins or something kicked in. Now I don’t have that first wind: I’m groaning from the second I hit the road (or the rowing machine, as the case may be). If I stick with it, though, the second wind still comes along, as strong or stronger than it used to. If it ever stops showing up I think I’ll give up every pretense of fitness and settle down to becoming perfectly spherical, which is where my natural talents seem to lie anyway.
3. Who do I root for in this battle of dinosaurs, Berlusconi vs. Murdoch? I suppose it’s too much to hope for that they will plunge together down the chasm into the Reichenbach Falls.