I really feel like writing something this morning, but I don't have anything to write about. That worked-out pretty well for Mr. Seinfeld, so it can't hurt me.

This morning I'm going to have coffee with Dave Something, he's a pastor (not a pasture). We were talking and he said we should get together and talk about religious stuff sometime, that time is today. I've always been game for religious discussion, but lately I've been more open and less antagonistic about it. I may write in-depth about that at some point, so remember not to check back.

This probably won't mean anything to anyone, but I read a moving short memoir this morning. It was written by Maureen Dowd, for her mom, who died nine days ago. Ms. Dowd is one of my favourite columnists for the NYT and a profoundly admirable person. The article illustrates the source of her strength. You'll need to quickly register to read it, but nytimes.com is the best newspaper online, so your life will not be complete until you do.

I'm going to go see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory tonight. Tim Burton and Roald Dahl have perfectly matched sensibilities. I always loved the beginning of Charlie the most. Charlie is poor, he lives with his parents and four grandparents, his dad works at the toothpaste cap factory, they eat cabbage soup everyday and he only gets one chocolate bar per year! Charlie is the best little boy, and I think . . . Freddie Highmore (Finding Neverland) is perfect for the role.

I don't know if I'm the only one, but I often like the beginning of a book or movie more than the body or the end. The beginning is the author's chance to set-up his or her own little world and share it with you; whereas, during the rest he is usually trying to impress something on you. Few of us are able to make an original comment weighty enough to carry a novel; but everyone has their own unique world (imaginary or otherwise) which they can share . . . if they are lucky.