They're gonna fry 'im!

Well, the Scott Peterson Saga lurched one more step toward resolution today when the jury recommended that he be put to death. I can't imagine being on a murder case jury, even for the conviction phase. How do you really know if someone did the deed? Some cases I can imagine having enough evidence to confidently assess someone guilty of a crime. The nutso who gunned down Dimebag Darrell last week, had he survived for a trial, is such a case. All those people there to watch him fire multiple times into Darrell's head at POINT BLANK RANGE would make for some very compelling witnesses. What a gruesome, disturbing scene to witness! But the Peterson case is different. No witnesses, just a lot of circumstantial evidence. Sure, growing a beard, dying your hair and making a break for Mexico is pretty damning evidence, but it's circumstantial nonetheless. Having read some of the media coverage, I thought he would be acquitted. It seemed there were enough holes in the prosecution's case to give some jurors reasonable doubt.

Deciding that someone did the unthinkable, and then condemning them to life imprisonment or death, just creeps me out! It's not a job I ever want to have. I was like this with O.J., too. I just couldn't grasp that ANYONE, beloved sports star or not, could do that to his ex-wife. What could possibly have happened in the Peterson household to push Scott over the edge so drastically? I can't imagine that she could have done anything to provoke it! If anything, I can see the opposite. Laci taking a knife to him in his sleep after discovering his affair. But if he really did tell her about Amber Frey, what could have possessed him to then kill her and THEIR UNBORN SON?!?!?!?! Hadn't he hurt her enough? Did he think that was the only way to be with Amber? It's just incomprehensible. I can't conjure up an example of the reasoning that must have gone through his head. Sigh. It's a wonderfully sad, scary and confusing world we live in, ain't it?

As for the weekend, it was Christmas chore weekend: sending cards, wrapping presents, online shopping for family. My wife sure was exhausted! That's right, I didn't do much of any of that crap! I signed the cards for my list, which is about half of my wife's list, licked some envelopes and fiddled with the mail merge. What productive things I did instead of all the other things, I can't remember. I cut up some inconveniently large pieces of cardboard from some of our recent purchases. I ran ten miles (like I promised). It felt good yesterday, but today my thighs aren't very happy with me. I got a soar throat. We got my wife's old car supercleaned and detailed so we could show it to prospective buyers, but then her sister called and we sold it to her. It's good that we can avoid the expense of listing it and haggling over price.

The Patriots won again! Rolling baby! The Eagles and Steelers struggled a bit (good) and the Vikings blew another game (BAD!). I really hope the damn Steelers lose one more before the end of the season so New England can get home field in the playoffs. Now they're losing their coveted Offensive Coordinator to the Fighting Irish. It doesn't bum me out much as long as he stays with the Pats for the rest of the season, which he has said he will do. David Wells is now a member of the Red Sox. Not sure how I feel about that yet. If he's an addition to the starting rotation that still has Pedro and Curt, then I think it will work out well. I don't think Fat Ol' Dave can replace either of them, though. It's still hard to believe that the Sox actually won the World Series. Wow. In my lifetime. Hockey's next negotiation meeting is tomorrow. Keeping my fingers crossed!

So this post is pretty un-entertaining! Sorry, but I feel a bit run down right now. I'll try to liven things up with an anecdote about our 4 year old son. He's very smart and loves to educate us with facts he learns. Unfortunately, he gets a lot of facts from his birth dad, who doesn't always know what the hell he's talking about. So last night at dinner, during my wife's lecture to him about responsible, informed prayer, he interrupts her with a tale about "Boston Hockey." Talk about sacrilege! How dare my wife discuss God when our son wants to talk about the Boston Bruins! Anyway, our son continues, Boston Hockey knows everything, and he's in a wheelchair. He's really smart. My wife and I are stumped, and just let it pass, whatever the misguided, jumbled factoid implanted in his head may be. But he tells us more. Boston Hockey can't talk and uses a computer to talk. A lightbulb goes on in my head. I ask him, "Are you talking about Stephen Hawking?" and his face lit up with recognition of the name he misremembered. Damn, he's so freaking adorable!

Taking a break from the iPod to listen to my new CD I bought on Ebay, which just got delivered: Lost Dogs by Pearl Jam.