On the road again...and again.

A classic novel you've likely never heard of was reissued this month. John L. Parker Jr.'s "Once A Runner" was first published in 1978. Whenever someone asks me why I run, what running does for me, or anything in that vein, I direct them to "Once A Runner." It answers those questions in ways I never could.

The problem, until this month, is "Once A Runner" was almost impossible to locate. It was reprinted a few times over the years, but was generally only found on eBay (for upwards of $200) or in too few public libraries. (My autographed copy is currently in the hands of a friend, if his baby girl hasn't eaten it yet.)

Anyway, I was thinking about the book on Sunday morning. It was one of those mornings when I really wasn't sure I wanted to go out to run. It'd been pouring rain all night and while the downpour had lessened to a sprinkle, it looked like it could start gushing again at any time. And I was a bit sore from Saturday's 5K race. But when you've been running as long as I have, you tend to find those kind of mornings can turn into the best kind. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I've stayed in on a morning like that. So off I went.

As has happened so many times before, it turned into a special run. The weather had scared everyone else into staying inside, so I had the roads and trails to myself. The race soreness faded away and I settled into the kind of groove that makes me love running so much. Here's what happens during those grooves...

Time and distance don't seem to matter. Both simply pass by without much thought. Nothing hurts. You breathe the same way you would while walking down a grocery store aisle. It all seems absolutely effortless. You can only hope you don't notice the groove. Because once you notice it, you start wondering when it will go away. It almost always goes away.

And that brings me to how running is a lot like golf. The average golfer hits a lot of balls into the rough, the sand, the water, even neighboring homes. It's so frustrating that a lot of golfers quit. The ones who keep at it do so because every so often you hit the perfect shot. It feels so good that you can't wait to do it again. So you persist through the sand balls and the water balls and the house balls. All because there's a chance the next shot will be THE shot.

That's how running is for me. I have days where it's a major chore to complete just a few miles. On those days I can't help wondering why in the world I do it. I have other days where running isn't spectacular, but it's a fine way to fritter an hour away. And then I have those special days when the groove happens. And it's a feeling you wish you could bottle up because everyone in the world would want to buy it. That's what Sunday was like.

Of course, Monday's run was average. Today's run was just so-so. But there's always the chance tomorrow will be special. And that's one of the reasons I run.

Facebook and a friendship's new chapter

The Internet can be a wonderful thing. I was reminded of this today when Justin Brown entered the realm of Facebook. Justin's presence on Facebook marks the latest chapter in our mostly online friendship, which dates back to the relatively early days of the Internet.

It was the late 90s and I was living in Lawrence, working as the Sports Director at Sunflower Cablevision. Many of you know I've dabbled in autograph collecting at times during my 35 years. One day, while perusing a message board dedicated to autographs, I began a back-and-forth with someone who, like me, collected the signatures of great track and field athletes. (The list of such collectors is short, but distinguished.)

I eventually learned that my fellow collector lived in Geelong, Australia, with his wife and son. Our dialogue began simply with the sharing of collecting tips and the trading of autographs. It moved to the occasional life updates and, I'm happy to say, was highlighted in 2005 when Justin and Michelle made Kansas City one of their stops on a whirlwind trip to the United States. Rachel and I reciprocated later that year with our maiden voyage Down Under, which included a few days in Melbourne and a visit to the Brown home in Geelong.

Justin and I have seen each other less than a week during our 10+ year friendship. But I've been able to observe his love of cricket and his obsession with the Melbourne Demons. (Yes, Justin loves the Melbourne AFL team even though there's one in Geelong.) I've met his family and shared the joy when he, Michelle and Brandon welcomed a new family member, Renee. (And another on the way this year!) And he's shared the highlights and lowlights of my life, too.

How else could all this have happened, if not for the Internet?

We can do lots of great things online now—from banking and shopping to YouTube and Twitter. But nothing beats the creation of a friendship, 10+ years long and going strong. Welcome to Facebook, Justin.

Random thoughts from the Arizona getaway...

Phoenix traffic can be horrible. We Kansas Citians don't realize what a blessing it can be to have so many highway options.

The Royals can be horrible. Man, they looked bad against the Rangers. But it was easy to overlook that when the sky was blue, temperature was near 80 and you're sitting 5 rows from the dugout. That said, there should be a law against funnel cakes costing $6.

Every vacation should include time to just do nothing.

Sedona is like Manitou Springs, CO on steroids.

What a great place for running in April. (June/July/August/etc., not so much.)

If you're ever in Scottsdale and think it'd be nice to visit Taliesin West, one of Frank Lloyd Wright's homes, bring your wallet. You can't go in without going on a tour…and a tour costs a minimum of $27.

Kudos to Valle Luna restaurant in Scottsdale…and to Cary for recommending it.

Thoughts during the Springsteen show:

#8 show I've seen…and I'd probably rate it 8th out of the 8. It was a great concert, just not as great as the other seven. Only the second show of the tour, so saw a few more screw-ups than I'm used to.

Updated concert rankings (in order): Kansas City, Houston, Dublin #2, Omaha, St. Paul, Dublin #1, Dallas, Phoenix

Kind of weird to see "Badlands" open the show.

Lots of stuff from the new album—"Outlaw Pete," "My Lucky Day" and "Kingdom of Days" were great.

There should be a law against a bag of roasted nuts costing $7.50.

Clarence is showing his age...but the big man looked great dancing during "Out In The Street," whistling during "Working On A Dream" and hitting all the big notes when he had to.

Does any song really need two tambourines? ("Because The Night")

Two new backup singers for this tour…that means 12 people on stage.

I could do with "American Land" leaving the setlist…but it was great to finally hear "Land of Hope and Dreams" live.

Can't wait for the Denver show (Good Friday)

First impressions, second chances

Former Iowa State basketball player Paul Shirley writes a fun blog for ESPN.com. The subject is often music. A few weeks back, he wrote about how he decided to listen to a CD several times (seems it was seven) before making a final determination on the CD's worthiness.

It's a great idea, though unrealistic for the average person who can't spare the time (or effort) to re-listen to a CD that initially doesn't seem all that great.

I thought about Shirley's blog while listening to the latest albums by Bruce Springsteen and U2. Each of them seemed, at best, average on the first listen. But I stayed with them, thinking surely I was missing something. Turns out I was. Now that I've spent some time with each CD, I really enjoy them both.

Springsteen's "Working On A Dream" follows last year's "Magic." He hasn't made consecutive records this quickly in a long time, leading many people to feel The Boss sacrificed quality for speed. WOAD certainly is a departure from Springsteen's recent work. "The Rising" was heavily influenced by 9/11, while "Magic" is Springsteen's response to the George W. Bush presidency. WOAD isn't quite as deep as either of those. Songs like "Surprise, Surprise," "Kingdom of Days," "My Lucky Day" and "This Life" find The Boss in a celebratory mood, which I found to be a nice departure from the tone of his previous two albums.

That's not to say WOAD doesn't have some meat to it. "The Last Carnival" is a moving tribute to Danny Federici, the E Street Band member who died of complications from melanoma last year. And "The Wrestler," which won a Golden Globe, but somehow didn't get an Oscar nomination, is a great tune as well.

While Springsteen has been producing work at a rapid pace, U2's "No Line On The Horizon" is their first album in nearly five years. Again, I wasn't wild about the first listen. But I'm appreciating it more and more. I dig Edge's work on "Magnificent." I like the whole feel of "I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight," which is the song we heard live at the Letterman show. And Adam Clayton's bass on "Moment of Surrender" is addictive.

Of course, there are certain artists who've earned repeated listens from me. Springsteen and U2 top that list. But I'd like to think I'll take the time to give other artists more of a break in the future. Because you never know what you'll miss on that first listen.

Hanging out with Letterman and U2...sort of

I love to plan vacations almost as much as I love the vacations themselves. But sometimes the best trips are the ones you don't have time to think about beforehand.

Three weeks ago I got a call from John at The Late Show with David Letterman. Several weeks earlier I'd heard that U2 would be Letterman's musical guest every night for the week of March 2, in conjunction with the release of their new album. So I went to The Late Show Web site and put in a ticket request.

I've put in a Letterman ticket request every time I've been to New York. And my name has never been picked. So imagine my surprise when John asked if I was still interested in tickets for March 4. "Oh, absolutely," I said. John asks, "So you're going to be in New York next week?" "Oh, absolutely," I said. (I could always figure out later just how realistic the trip would be.)

As is protocol for The Late Show, John had to ask me a trivia question about the show before guaranteeing the tickets. This worried me, as I don't watch the show as much as I used to. He says, "There's a bit we had on the show for many years, but stopped doing recently. I'm going to give you the title and leave out a word. You just have to tell me the word." Again, don't watch the show much. And, at that moment, I couldn't recall a single one of the bits. He continues, "Great moments in BLANK speeches."

Truly, this is the only bit I could possibly have named, other than the Top Ten list. The answer was "Presidential." And I had my tickets.

It was hard to keep my mind on class that night as I looked forward to getting home and seeing if the airfare and hotel costs would be reasonable enough for this trip to happen. And I was very surprised to find the rates were pretty darn cheap, even just a week out.

We sweated the weather forecasts for the next few days, especially the period when NYC got almost a foot of snow. But it had all cleared up by March 4 and we flew out that morning. The flight was flawless and, after a bit of an annoying cab ride (thanks to some awful Midtown Tunnel traffic), we were at the hotel by noon. (If you're ever traveling to NYC, I've had great luck with the Hampton Inn at 51st and 8th. It's been our NYC base the past three trips.)

We didn't have to pick up tickets at the Ed Sullivan Theatre until 2 p.m. So we took the advice of Will DiMartino, a native New Yorker who now forms a great KC photography team with his wife, Jill, and had lunch at Zen Palate at 46th and 9th. I don't eat meat during Lent, so I'd asked Will for some good NYC vegetarian options. He was right on the money with Zen Palate...one of the best veggie burgers I've ever had, along with some tasty sweet potato fries.

From there, we booked it over to the theatre. A crowd had gathered on the south side of the building, awaiting U2's arrival. We stood (and froze...no sun) out there for several minutes, before heading to the front of the building to wait in line with the other lucky ticket winners. They opened the doors at precisely 2 p.m. and we shuffled inside to have our IDs checked.

I'd read somewhere that the more enthusiastic you appear, the more likely you might get better seats. Now, anyone who knows me knows I'm not typically an outwardly enthusiastic person. But believe me when I say I was off the charts enthusiastic between 2 p.m. and 2:30 p.m. The staffer at the head of our line, after pulling out our two tickets, asked if we were excited to be there ("Of course!!" and if we had a favorite bit on the show ("Great Moments in Presidential Speeches...what a bummer Dave doesn't do it anymore. Oh, and by the way, we came all the way from Kansas City for this!" before saying, "You guys look like you're ready to have fun today. So I'm going to do you a favor." She applied a small sticker to each of our tickets and told us to go meet another staffer on the other side of the room.

So off we went, along with a handful of other folks, whom I can only assume were just as enthusiastic as we were. This staffer tells us that we must have caught the eye of the line staffers, because we'd been picked to be among those seated in the first few rows of the theatre. Success! We just had to come back and meet our group at 3:15.

We bounced across the street to a deli, mostly to warm up for a few minutes, and then made our way back to the theatre. The "select" group turned out to be 75-100 people (the theatre holds 400 or so for Letterman's show) and, upon meeting at 3:15, we were led inside the lobby of the Ed Sullivan Theatre. We lined up and the next 20-30 minutes were spent being entertained by one of the staffers, whose job it was to get us suitably pumped up for the show. The kicker was we could hear U2 sound checking in the theatre and no one in our group was paying attention!

Sometime around 3:45, we were led into the theatre. They filled up the first and second rows of the center section, then directed us to the second row of the right section (stage left.) We were lined up with a direct view of Letterman's desk. A warm-up comedian came out and explained a bit about how the show would work, told a few jokes, then introduced the house band. They played for several minutes, while we clapped along. Then Paul Shaffer came out and they played a bit more. At about 4:25, Letterman came on stage, sans jacket, said hello and took a few questions from the audience. Now, I was thinking the show didn't begin until 5 p.m. So imagine my surprise when I saw a camera guy counting down. When he got to 1, Letterman walked briskly to the back of the stage, out of sight, and the band started playing the intro music. Guess the show starts at 4:30!

I won't go into all the detail about the show. Letterman came out and did his monologue. U2 came out and did the Top 10 list, which was hilarious. Dr. Phil McGraw was the guest. He turned out to be funnier than I expected. The show moved along in real time until about 5:20. They took a bit of extra time to set up U2's equipment. Then the band came out and did "I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight" from the new album. It was, of course, excellent.

And that was it. The lights came up and we filed out.

The rest of the trip may seem ho-hum by comparison to that first afternoon. But we got to do and see a lot of things that we'd missed on our previous trips. Saw two shows ("Jersey Boys" and "August: Osage County," both excellent), got out to Brooklyn and walked the bridge, saw the American Museum of Natural History and the New York City Police Museum, walked through Central Park (and I ran around it several times), dined at some great places and, all in all, had a great time.

Already looking forward to planning the next trip...

What a piece of trash

Barbara Shelly wrote an interesting column in today's Kansas City Star. "Enthusiasm For Talking Trash Can't Be Curbed" focuses mostly on Kansas City's two-bag rule for garbage. We don't have any such limits in Lenexa, Kan., though the subject has been brought up in recent months by Deffenbaugh, Lenexa's main trash service provider.

Anyway, Barb opens the column with this: "I'll admit it. I enjoy checking out my neighbors' garbage." She mentions how a nearby family of eight puts out one large bag each week, while a family of four would put out five to six bags, paying for stickers to cover the excess beyond the two allowable bags.

Like Barb, I'm more interested in my neighbors' trash habits than I probably should be. Most of our neighborhood seems to do pretty well with keeping trash to a minimum. And I'm seeing more and more folks putting out recycling bins each week.

I guess I see trash and recycling in the same way I see grocery savings…it's a sport. The less trash and more recycling I have, the better my score. So we've done the newspaper recycling thing forever and have added other recyclables as the years have progressed.

We stepped it up a notch this year and refrained from pitching any leaves during the fall. Instead, we mulched them up and started a pile in the backyard where Rachel gardens. So rather than tossing 6-12 bags of leaves to the curb each week during the fall, we've got a pile that's slowly turning to compost. It's been pretty fun to watch. I go out there and turn the pile once or twice a week and get to see the bottom of the pile decomposing just a bit more each time.

Our next step was the compost bin. We got one a few months ago and use it for banana peels, apple cores, shredded paper and the like. Again, cool thing to watch. We just toss stuff in there a few times a week, turn the bin and let nature take its course.

The landfills are filling up fast and the powers that be are going to make us start doing this kind of stuff sooner or later. I just figure we may as well get a head start.

Reveling in my cheapskatedness

thrifty, adj. frugal, saving; sparing; economical; foresighted; provident.

I was a bit surprised to not see "cheapskate" in my thesaurus or dictionary. Instead, I found kind words, like those listed above. No one has ever directed those pleasant words at me. But I've most certainly been called a cheapskate, by no less a dignitary than my wife.

It's a label I wear with pride. That's not to suggest I'm "frugal" or "sparing" in all areas of my life. I simply choose to be "sparing" and "economical" in some areas to finance my interest in other areas.

Until recently, I did not take the time to quantify my "economical" methods. That changed on January 1. I resolved to keep a detailed monthly record of my favorite area of savings: groceries.

See, grocery shopping is like a sport to me. Much like a marathon, when it comes to shopping, I study, plan and execute to achieve specific goals. The grocery ads appear in Wednesday's newspaper and I lay them out like a general mapping a battlefield. I look for matches between my coupon collection and the weekly specials. On Saturday, I attack.

Yes, I'm the nerd who cuts coupons every Sunday. I'm the geek standing in the aisle, doing coupon math in his head. I'm the dork who hands the cashier a stack of coupons at checkout.

Ah, but the results of my quest...

During the month of January, I realized total grocery savings of $198.95. That's $83.75 in coupons and $115.20 in advertised specials.

Are there trade-offs? Absolutely. I purchase very few things that aren't on sale. (Milk and bananas are the only things that immediately come to mind.) So if chicken is what's on sale this week, chicken is what we're having. Hamburgers have to wait.

But that $198.95 pays for the annual newspaper subscription. Or two tickets to a Springsteen concert. Or an airline ticket. Or two pairs of running shoes. Or...well, you get the idea. In other words, don't pin the country's economic recovery hopes on me.