<h3>Jungle Warfare</h3>

A special Valentine's gift. For what says true love better than a box of pulpy espionage adventure, with a chewy thermonuclear center?

Returning to the ancient world of cybercomics, I'm releasing the first chapter of my Nick Fury adventure in that format. It's a fast-paced romp through the Panama jungle. Nicholas J., for those of you who have lived lives outside the comic book page, is Marvel's swaggering super-spy. And head of a global spook shop called S.H.I.E.L.D. (The letters of which have stood for way too many convoluted attempts to make sense out of the name.)

Fury and SHIELD were some of my favorite characters and situations to play with when I was still actively writing comics. If for no other reason than the fact that I was a long time 007 fan, and now I had a chance to play out James Bond scenarios on a grand, gritty scale. I think this remains my favorite of the cybercomics — Spidey runs a close second. It's got a strong MacGuffin, fun set pieces, and a natural sounding selection of tough guy quips.

To get in on the action: click on SHIELD in the scrolling menu up top, then pick a chapter from the page that appears below.

(Photo, of course, if of The Hoff.)

<h3>No matter where you've been, it's who you are</h3>

Making a cup of tea, I was reminded of my grandfather. My mother's father. Sitting with him, I'm just a little kid, at the kitchen table at his house on Charles Mary Lane. After pouring the water, he'd let the tea steep. (As you do with tea, no revelation there.) Then just use his strong, worked fingers to squeeze the hot teabag out.

And for no conscious reason I've ever thought about, it just seems the most natural thing to do the same. My far weaker, less accomplished fingers don't complain.

<h3>A measure of brilliance</h3>

We're in the continuing process of tweaking the "family room." It's come a long way from the L toy catch all it was for a long time. It's almost like a whole new room has been discovered in the house.

As we were measuring some stuff out, L volunteered to help and put the tape measure to work. The long stretches he called out close to the mark. But on the shorter distances, he was reporting back, "That's 7 fingers." "That's 2 fingers." "That's about 4 fingers." Instead of correcting him, I had to ask, "Why fingers?"

So he tells me. "Because they're shorter than feet."

I should have known that much! Simply put, I am extraordinarily lucky.

<h3>The last one out turn off the lights</h3>

I think this is an image I'll return to many times over the next months and years. As the economy tanks. As uncertainty nips at our collective heels. As our leaders talk and talk.

Granted, it's just a whatever Tuesday night. Hardly a major bargain day. But it was a fairly desolate vibe in both Toys R Us and Costco. Picking up necessaries, like on-sale Xbox cards, and bulk paper goods. Just an odd vibe empty scene. And in the toy store especially, COLD. Like they'd turned down the heat to save a few bucks. Which they probably did.

It's the little things that worry.

But at least I've got video games and TP.

<h3>What don't you understand?</h3>

At dinner the other night, J and I are joshing and pretending to not understand each other.

L puts his hand up, indicating the conversation has clearly hit a wall. And announces, quite matter of fact, "Dad doesn't speak 'Mom'."