Pam and I returned from Pennslyvania today, arriving home with still some daylight left so that Jordi and Molly could get some time out in the grass. They love that.

I've become a huge, huge fan of XM Satellite radio, especially for long trips. No more must I find new channels every time I come upon a different major city. No more do I experience the frustration of locating a channel I really like, only to have it gradually fade, becoming increasingly static-ridden and eventually indeciperable. Rather, I can listen to the same channel for 500 miles if I want.

But of course, I don't do that any more than I would watch the same channel on TV all day long. Heavens no. Instead, I find myself constantly switching channels. Maybe I'm on ESPN. When an ad comes I change to Fox or CNN, or maybe to the 70s music station. If the next song isn't to my liking, I bump the channel up a notch to the 80s, then the 90s. Who in the world designed this car radio with ony six presets?

I radio-surf constantly, which is probably a tad more hazardous than talking on the cell phone while driving. I imagine it annoys Pam to pieces, though she's always so engrossed in a novel that she may not even notice. Huh. Of course she notices. She's probably chuckling inside at this overt display of Guy Attention Deficit Disorder. Call it GADD. I've got it big-time.