Many Thoughts To Go Before I Sleep

My car tried to kill me again today. When something like that happens, it makes you realize how quickly our whole lives can turn around. You know, like one minute you have one (a life) and the next minute you're dead. I think I've told you about my Saturn's attempts at murder on previous occasions, but, just in case I haven't, and just in case you care...I have one of those automatic seat belt things. When I turn the car off, the seat belt disengages, sliding away from me. But, on occasion, including this morning, the seat belt actually lunged for my throat when I turned the ignition off. Thanks only to my Indiana Jones-like reflexes, I've been able to escape whenever this happens.
Sometimes, they say, when death stares one squarely in the face, one's whole life flashes before him. Not with me. What flashed before me were a bunch of column ideas that aren't developed enough for a stand-alone piece. So, having narrowly escaped with my life, I've decided that, prior to my demise, I'll just put a bunch of disjointed ideas into one piece.
You know, this is really a clever ploy to use when I don't have anything to write. And, let me say, that if you should hear of my death, please report my car to the FBI.
But, anyway, here are some recent thoughts I've had. First, I heard that Mexico's El Presidente Fox has offered to send Mexican workers into Louisiana to help with the recovery/cleanup. I sincerely think that's a generous offer. What I want to know is does anyone really think those workers are going to go there and work until the Seven-Elevens reopen?
Something else regarding the New Orleans disaster, I read that the mayor is promoting the idea that the French Quarter will be back on its feet in time for next year's Mardi Gras. It seems to me that if I'd just been hit with one of the worst natural disasters in history, I'd be a little cautious about planning a pagan debauchery. In fact, I'd want to go on record that maybe we had better hold off on any major drunken revelries/orgies. I'm not in any way suggesting that God did this to New Orleans. I don't think he did. But, if I lived there, I wouldn't be in the mood to take any chances right now.
On another completely different note, I think anyone who gets a caller ID for their phone should have to take lessons in the proper use of the contraption, and then get a license to use it. We are regularly getting phone calls, here at the office, from morons who say, "Somebody there just tried to call me." And then the caller will wait for us to figure out who it might be that phoned.
Well congratulations. You got a phone call. Hey, we have ten people making phone calls here. How do you expect our receptionist to know who called you? If the caller didn't leave a message, then forget about it. Don't be so anxious. They'll call back.
And, one more thought. Is Robby Gordon just about the biggest idiot in the sports world today? What an imbecile. I do have one bit of advice for him. Next time, Robby, rather than just hurling your helmet, why not throw yourself in front of the mean old car that hurt you. That'll show 'em. On second thought. Why not just strap yourself into my Saturn. Now that could really be fun.