fact, I don't consider myself a writer so much as a cranky chronicler of life, a benign bystander, an existential fly on the wall. I just sit on the sidelines and take note of what's happening around me, then I run it through a spell checker and report it to you. Think of It seems like an awful lot of people are asking my opinion these days, usually about things on which I have no opinion to give. They ask my take on international politics, global warming, the overseas stock markets, the future of the Eurodollar, the latest Calvin Klein fragrance, and a whole slew of other topics that I know little, if anything, about. Even my wife wants to know what I think. She's always asking things like, "Honey, does this make me look fat?" It doesn't take a genius to figure out that there's only one correct response to that question.

So the evidence is clear: either my humble opinion really does count to a lot of people or I just have a lot of people snowed. I'm leaning toward the latter since it requires far less effort on my part.

Most of these misguided folks seek my opinion for no other reason than I write this column. They think that because I can string together a couple of thousand words in a semi-coherent manner on a weekly basis, what I think must have some relevance to the world. Truth be told, most weeks this column writes itself. In fact, I don't consider myself a writer so much as a cranky chronicler of life, a benign bystander, an existential fly on the wall. I just sit on the sidelines and take note of what's happening around me, then I run it through a spell checker and report it to you. Think of m

grance, and a whole slew of other topics that I know little, if anything, about. Even my wife wants to know what I think. She's always asking things like, "Honey, does this make me look fat?" It doesn't take a genius to figure out that there's only one correct response to that question.

So the evidence is clear: either my humble opinion really does count to a lot of people or I just have a lot of people snowed. I'm leaning toward the latter since it requires far less effort on my part.

Most of these misguided folks seek my opinion for no other reason than I write this column. They think that because I can string together a couple of thousand words in a semi-coherent manner on a weekly basis, what I think must have some relevance to the world. Truth be told, most weeks this column writes itself. In fact, I don't consider myself a writer so much as a cranky chronicler of life, a benign bystander, an existential fly on the wall. I just sit on the sidelines and take note of what's happening around me, then I run it through a spell checker and report it to you. Think of

hat question.

So the evidence is clear: either my humble opinion really does count to a lot of people or I just have a lot of people snowed. I'm leaning toward the latter since it requires far less effort on my part.

Most of these misguided folks seek my opinion for no other reason than I write this column. They think that because I can string together a couple of thousand words in a semi-coherent manner on a weekly basis, what I think must have some relevance to the world. Truth be told, most weeks this column writes itself. In fact, I don't consider myself a writer so much as a cranky chronicler of life, a benign bystander, an existential fly on the wall. I just sit on the sidelines and take note of what's happening around me, then I run it through a spell checker and report it to you. Think of

n for no other reason than I write this column. They think that because I can string together a couple of thousand words in a semi-coherent manner on a weekly basis, what I think must have some relevance to the world. Truth be told, most weeks this column writes itself. In fact, I don't consider myself a writer so much as a cranky chronicler of life, a benign bystander, an existential fly on the wall. I just sit on the sidelines and take note of what's happening around me, then I run it through a spell checker and report it to you. Think of fact, I don't consider myself a writer so much as a cranky chronicler of life, a benign bystander, an existential fly on the wall. I just sit on the sidelines and take note of what's happening around me, then I run it through a spell checker and report it to you. Think of me as the hall monitor in the Big School of Life. By the way, where's your hall pass?

While most people ask my opinion on current events, others want to know what I think about things that haven't even happened yet, like I'm some kind of psychic hotline operator. "Who do you think the next president will be?" they ask. "Do you think North and South Korea will ever unite? Do you think there will ever be an Irish Pope? Do you think Prince Charles' ears can get any bigger? Do you think the new Barbie will be able to wear the old Barbie's clothes?"

Since so many people seem to think that I can see into the future, not to mention that we are on the threshold of the new year, I decided to put my psychic abilities to the test. After all, I had nothing to lose and the answers to many questions to gain. Questions like: Can I really see into the future? Do I really possess the gift of foresight? If I really can see into the future, what's the best way to make a fast buck off such an ability, and more importantly, will it help me remember where I left my carkeys?

I put my