When you were a child, did you ever sing into an electric fan? Great sound! Almost as good as Munchkin voices, wasn't it? You and your sound were unique. You blended into one another. What it meant was not as important as that you were making your own noise.

As an adult, I've sung into the fan many times when I thought I was in conversation. So I figured I might as well do it on purpose. Here I am. Never thought I'd be here. Rules here are simple: hear my song and sing your own, if you feel called to do so. Please keep in your singing a strong respect for others whose songs are different from yours. Oh, and my song is PRIME here, of course.

The other day, my husband and I were stopped by a flagman, and we had a chance to see some very different road repair going on. When we were able to go through, we stopped by a worker and asked about the process. He was almost jubilant as he told us that this road was being done the right way, because of Obama stimulus money. We shared his exuberance even while a driver on the other side of the flag was sharing his negative opinions of Obama and his stimulus garbage.

The guy was about to drive on a well prepared road, past a man who, without Obama, would not have a job at this time; and he still couldn't see the positive result. Sad for him. I almost wanted to offer him the choice of traveling one of the heavily rutted roads parallel to this one so that reality would not assault him as it was doing now. I didn't tell him. But I'm telling the fan now. Yippee!