Among the notable speakers at this week's Democratic Convention was Illinois Department of Veterans Affairs Director Tammy Duckworth.

Duckworth lost both legs in 2004 when her copter was shot down in Iraq, and only two years later waged a strong campaign for a congressional seat in Republican west suburban Chicago, losing by the slimmest margin.

She doesn't mince words, and is a clear-eyed and forceful advocate for those who serve. Look for her in the future.

Later, with the crowd still bubbling from President Clinton's eloquent address, a young woman strode to the mike:

"Good evening. I speak tonight as the wife of a United States Marine. Oorah!"

Instantly, she made that crowd her own.

She is Beth Robinson of Chesapeake, Virginia, who has multiple sclerosis. She spoke of "inadequate and underfunded" health care for military families.

"I know that President Obama will make health care available and accessible to all Americans," she said.

Then tonight, this from the nominee, on the 45th anniversary of Dr. King's speech:

America, now is not the time for small plans...

Now is the time to finally keep the promise of affordable, accessible health care for every single American. If you have health care, my plan will lower your premiums. If you don't, you'll be able to get the same kind of coverage that members of Congress give themselves.

And as someone who watched my mother argue with insurance companies while she lay in bed dying of cancer, I will make certain those companies stop discriminating against those who are sick and need care the most.

Now is the time to help families with paid sick days and better family leave, because nobody in America should have to choose between keeping their jobs and caring for a sick child or ailing parent.

Paraplegics take first steps with robotic legs [story & video], NewScientistTech

New orthotic corrects foot-drop, gets thumbs-up from respected MS researcher, Chicago Tribune

Electrical stimulation activates stroke-paralyzed limbs, NewScientistTech

Bionic hand wins British science award, London Daily Mail

Monkey reaches for a marshmallow with robot arm controlled by his thoughts [audio], NPR

This surgeon doesn't sneeze: robotic surgery is here, New York Times

Thursday live webcast: Recognizing and treating MS-related optic neuritis, HealthTalk w/Drs. Robert Shin & Jeffrey Bennett

Ah, how nice to hear the voice of someone who understands.

Michelle Obama at the Democratic Convention:

I come here as a daughter - raised on the South Side of Chicago by a father who was a blue collar city worker, and a mother who stayed at home with my brother and me...

My Dad was our rock. Although he was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in his early thirties, he was our provider, our champion, our hero. As he got sicker, it got harder for him to walk, it took him longer to get dressed in the morning. But if he was in pain, he never let on. He never stopped smiling and laughing - even while struggling to button his shirt, even while using two canes to get himself across the room to give my Mom a kiss. He just woke up a little earlier, and worked a little harder.

He and my mom poured everything they had into me and Craig. It was the greatest gift a child can receive: never doubting for a single minute that you're loved, and cherished, and have a place in this world. And thanks to their faith and hard work, we both were able to go on to college. So I know firsthand from their lives - and mine - that the American Dream endures...

I can feel my dad looking down on us, just as I've felt his presence in every grace-filled moment of my life.

McCain against choice in housing for the disabled?, New Mobility

Accessible RVs grow in popularity, Calgary Sun

New robotic lift loads wheelchair into vehicle after you transfer into driver's seat, New Mobility

The 11 Best Foods You Aren't Eating, Well blog

Wide World of Urinals, Nicholas Green -- funny!

Live 8/18 Webcast: Does Anxiety Trigger Your Depression?

Vanita Books: author/publisher/caregiver donates all proceeds to MS

Vanita Oelschlager

Simple, Healthy Foods for Summer (Ratatouille & Smoothies), Disaboom message boards

Nottingham Engineering Students Design Cheap, Rugged Wheelchair "for Africa," BBC

Meet the Wheelchair for Africa in action

It is the essence of genius to make use of the simplest ideas." -- poet Charles Peguy

More Wheelchair for Africa action

Studio to screen Tropic Thunder for disability groups & change offensive ads, New York Times

Live Internet briefing by the Miami Project To Cure Paralysis, Friday, August 15, 1-3 p.m. ET (register here)

Bernie Mac's death puts Sarcoidosis in spotlight, Chicago Tribune

A CVS man, from my old neighborhood Roseland

Two latest cases of brain swelling mar Tysabri's second anniversary, BioWorld Today

The Sandwich Generation: millions caring for children & parents simultaneously, Well blog

Stem cells invigorate aging muscles, BBC

Homes for Our Troops adapts houses of Iraq vets, War Amputees blog

Nationwide Tropic Thunder Boycott in the Works, New York Times

"Boogers R fuuunnnnny!"

Can Universal Health Care Happen Here?, Paul Krugman, New York Times

How to boost your intake of "lifespan essential" polyphenol antioxidants, wikiHow

Teri Garr interview on MS, aneurysm, aging & acting, CNN

Monkey Business: Exotic Animals Assist the Disabled, Angie's List

Racer Mike Brogan (right)

Nothing slows this guy down: Bilateral amputee and his racecar, naomimimi's blog

I love a good story, so I have to tell you about this.

Elizabeth Goodyear loves a good story, too. The thing is, she's 101 years old and has bad knees, so she doesn't get out of her New York apartment much. And a few years ago, she lost her sight, so she can't read the books that line her walls. But this is no pity party, because Goodyear has the spark of life in her, the one that attracts people like moths to a flame (you know what I mean). No, Elizabeth Goodyear lives at the center of something very good.

Put simply, people come to read to her. Many people, of all ages and backgrounds. A yoga instructor, a realtor, a nurse and others. All volunteers, not affiliated with any organization, though most now since go by the title of "friend" -- one who has moved away, for instance, calls Goodyear every week to read over the phone. At any one time, she'll have several different books ongoing.

(Credit: Josh Haner, New York Times)

It just kind of sprang up, this reading circle of friends. A neighbor named Alison West, who is two generations younger than Goodyear, began checking in as Goodyear grew frail, "to kiss her goodnight each evening." The two had done favors for each other before, and now West learned Goodyear was having difficulty affording rent and wages for her home health aide. West held a fundraiser to meet the immediate needs, and also sent out a message about this woman who loves lively conversation and a daily chocolate, a woman who has led a brimming-full life.

It's true, Elizabeth Goodyear's life would be the envy of most of us. Born in a Philadelphia suburb during the Teddy Roosevelt administration, she migrated to New York City as a young woman, lured by the bright lights of Broadway. She studied at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, and worked in "the business" (as actors call it), mostly behind-the-scenes, throughout her life. That includes 20 plays she wrote or cowrote, two of which made the stage. Along the way, she rubbed elbows with Duke Ellington, Gypsy Rose Lee, George Balanchine, and Martha Graham, who caught her attending one of her classes while hung-over, and gave her the workout of a lifetime!

[See a story slideshow, narrated by Elizabeth Goodyear.]

One of my favorite aspects of this story is that West particularly, but also the others, recognized the wonderful person in their midst. They see Elizabeth, not an Old Woman. They see through generational lines. Perhaps that sounds like no big deal, but I'm not sure how many people can actually do this. I see some smirk or curse the old man in a hat who drives so slow and straight, and it makes me cringe because there's a good chance that guy was at Normandy or Inchon doing things that the plump softies of my generation can only imagine through video games.

In return for their insight, these friends are enriched by Goodyear, a one-of-a-kind personality who is obviously making an impact on many lives.

West's message was the beginning of Goodyear's salon. That's what it is, a salon. People drop in daily, some without books but instead with pets, gifts from abroad, ideas to discuss, and always, dark chocolate.

Goodyear says, modestly, "Usually there's something going on here. It's strange. You'd think if you got to be 101, nothing much would happen. But it does."

"I don't know how I ever managed to do it," Ms. Goodyear said of her numerous relationships.

"You hook them in," Ms. Sandleben teased.

"They come," Ms. Goodyear responded, "and for some reason, they always come back."

[Source: In Strangers, a Blind Centenarian Finds a Literary Lifeline by Sarah Kramer, New York Times, August 1, 2008.]

Postscript: I think I just went through a tornado. An hour ago, in the middle of writing this. Everything A-OK. Wow.

While researching another story, I stumbled upon this news. Disability activist, lawyer and writer Harriet McBryde Johnson passed away in June at age 50.

Johnson wrote a pair of prominent articles for the New York Times a few years ago; plus a memoir, Too Late To Die Young; and a young-adult novel called Accidents of Nature. The one that really made an impact on me was Unspeakable Conversations, when she faced off with Princeton bioethicist Peter Singer, who is infamous for arguing for the euthanization of babies born with birth defects.

There, the depth of her intellect and her principles were apparent. Yet there was no grandstanding, none of the shrill diatribes or sheltered truisms we've come to expect when this kind of explosive issue is discussed. She didn't need that to stand her ground.

Instead, her observations were clear-eyed and nuanced. The details that stuck with me weren't searing debate points or sarcastic remarks, but how genial she found Singer to be (remember, he is also a prominent spokesman for animal rights). Her depiction differed so with my expectations, that as I followed their conversation I felt the hairs raise on my neck. Killer and Killed facing one another across a desk, one step away from Fellini.

Her strength of vision made me feel like a mere dabbler. Reading the tributes of others, I find that I'm not alone in this regard.

While her work should be emulated, it was Johnson's attitude that taught me something. McBride was afflicted by a form of muscular dystrophy. Her body sat small and hunched in her wheelchair, shaped by the years with her lifelong condition. She was probably a peculiar sight to most eyes.

Harriet McBryde Johnson

Her appearance was something she addressed forthrightly when introducing herself to us in her articles. She didn't gloss over, but detailed her physique to us. She framed her image matter-of-factly and boldly in our (her readers) minds ... because this is me. She was comfortable with her body, even liked her body, and was confident within it ... because this is me.

This is me, as I am. Can you, Peter Singer or anybody else, deny my humanity? Can you declare me any less human than you? You cannot, because I won't let you ... because this is me.

That, to me, is a powerful realization. It underscored to me something that I already knew, that we all know -- only in Harriet's case it was brought out in stark relief. That we are all individuals. We make our own ways, with a billion different paths. Harriet went one way. Oscar Pistorius, the Blade Runner, and Josh George, the wheelchair racer, go in different ways.

Me, with my slowly changing body, I've got to go along another. It's a challenge, but it's mine, and it's all good.

A Harriet McBryde Johnson Reader --

A New Mobility blog notice of her passing

Unspeakable Conversations, New York Times, February 16, 2003

The Disability Gulag, New York Times, November 23, 2003

Too Late To Die Young: Nearly True Tales From a Life

A fun piece in Ouch! a few weeks before she died

Articles and remembrances of Harriet McBryde Johnson

Scroll to the bottom for a list of Harriet McBryde Johnson's online works to read

On top of everything else, MS and every other affliction can make you feel guilty. Imagining what you're missing. What you're putting people through. Whatever other crazy corners of the mindmaze your brain can crawl itself into.

This live Thursday night webcast features experts discussing the reasons for such guilt, and more importantly, the strategies that might help you avoid such negative thought patterns and harmful stress. At the end there is time for your own questions.

The hosts, HealthTalk, will give away three iPod nanos to those who intend (for some reason, limited only to U.S. residents -- I guess you Canadians get free meds, so the rest of us get to claw at one another for a few delicious-looking MP3 players. Take that!)

This event is free. If you can't make it tonight, go to the HealthTalk.com website for an archived copy of this and other programs.

Date: Tonight, Thursday, July 24, 2008

Time: 5:30 p.m. PDT / 6:30 p.m. MDT / 7:30 p.m. CDT / 8:30 p.m. EDT (they suggest arriving 10 minutes before starting time)

Location: http://www2.healthtalk.com/go/multiple-sclerosis/webcasts/letting-go-of-your-ms-guilt

To participate, you'll need Windows Media Player for either Windows or Mac: http://www2.healthtalk.com/go/corporate/webcast-player-download-instructions

One day I wake up feeling like I got hit by a ton of bricks. The next day, I'm leading a charmed life again. Maybe they need to up my medication.

Let's think of a charmed day, shall we? One that occurred a little over two years ago. In an earlier column, I described the second greatest Easter story ever told -- well, that's what it felt like anyway, receiving a donated $25,000 wheelchair on Good Friday. Does it sound foolish to say it seemed as if I'd been struck by lightning, singled out by something improbable and much greater than me? It's difficult to describe such a magnificent and strange event without using this many metaphors, although one thing's for sure: lightning doesn't strike twice.

Or does it? Gather round, readers, for the third greatest Easter story ever told -- and for the reason I'm telling it now in July. It's a story of what can be accomplished. Maybe it will get some wheels turning out there.

This story is about abundant and unexpected blessings, and that's how it starts too. I am blessed with wonderful neighbors. My wife and I keep in touch with them by publishing a local newsletter, and through other area groups. These wonderful neighbors include the family next door, who are fantastic people. Tim and Ali are 11 and 9, and to my eyes, bright and dazzling as stars -- every time I seen them, I smile. I hang out with them all the time. Of course, they are a reflection of their parents. Dave works long hours to provide, and in his free time is an amateur naturalist and historian: great for Tim, a hearty kid going through his World War II phase. Karen holds down an evening job as a counselor while she homeschools the kids to several grades above their age levels.

You would think that would wear her down. But no, she's not content to confine her efforts in-home. That's why I answered the door one day (thank goodness the Masculine Munder Physique was safely shrouded in a robe) to find Karen on the other side of a movie camera.

"Karen, what are you doing?"

"Making a movie."

I wasn't going to ask the obvious. I feared the answer. (A science project for the kids? What, animals in their natural habitat?) I folded my paws, er, my arms.

"Smile," she said through the lens, "I'm nominating you for Extreme Home Makeover."

So incredulous was I that I rose from my chair. I thrust out my chest, brandishing my arms with righteous indignation. Extreme Home Makeover, I declared, is the TV program where communities and businesses join forces to improve the homes of society's most beleaguered and downtrodden citizens. Rather than benefit from the largess of others, I will contribute instead!

That's what I wanted to do. What happened instead was Karen blew past me, filmed my entire house and narrated (beautifully, I might add) an entire spiel about how the Munders love their community and their community loves them right back ... while my wife and I hemmed and hawed like deer not just caught in the headlights, but hauled downtown and booked at central station.

It was a flattering gesture, to be sure. However, like I said at the time, there are families much more needy than my own. And sure enough, Karen's videotape generated no replies. There are simply a lot of families devastated by medical hardships.

But more importantly, what an affirmation this was of the true friend we had living next door! Yet we had no idea of the depth of that friendship. Karen and family had bigger surprises in store.

The following year, we traveled on extended business to Texas. While away, Karen planned to surprise us with a home makeover of our own. She began organizing volunteers and enlisting local merchants. As the scale of plans grew larger, it was decided that Karen call us for permission. Once again, we were surprised, but had to decline. We believed her efforts ought to benefit a family more needy. She understood, and reluctantly shelved her plans.

A week later, Karen called back. Someone at her church, responding to the (expired) call to volunteerism, had obtained flooring that Mohawk Industries was going to destroy. Karen wanted to know if we would be angry accepting the floor anyway. Hardwood flooring, headed for the dumpster. I was (pardon me here) floored. No, in that case, bring it on!

I know little of what happened afterward. A whirr of spontaneous generosity, astounding to contemplate. A local church got behind the project in a big way. People whom I didn't even know donated funds. The youth group trooped to my house over and over to volunteer. Other parishioners did the same, working alongside my neighbors and relatives, day in and day out. They were joined by businesses large and small, from Mohawk to the local Home Depot and Century Tile, that donated materials.

On returning home, these good people crowded our yard to welcome us! (Are we on a game show?) They surrounded us as we entered, wide-eyed.

• The blonde wood flooring is elegant and spacious. Driving and steering my wheelchair is much easier than on the old carpeting.

• They painted half of the rooms. (My wife got to pick the colors, from Texas.)

• The kitchen was expanded for accessibility. The open floor plan lets me open my own refrigerator for the first time in years. I was three years old again: simply opening a door made me smile!

• My sister and brother-in-law widened and remodeled the bathroom. Now it's attractive and more accommodating of my wheelchair. Our lives are better for it, period.

There's a final touch to mention, a special one.

We once heard Anthony Hopkins give advice to young actors: Be bold and mighty forces will come to your aid. The striking phrase made such an impact that we mounted it on the wall ... actually taped it there on computer paper, to see how it might look. Honestly, it was pretty tacky! An experiment, not meant for outside eyes.

Hopkins

One of our neighbors, a busy father named John, saw it. He took the time to cut painting stencils in detailed Gothic lettering, and now it looks majestic -- very much like those colorful and muscular WPA murals we can admire from the 1930s, John's work is a bold emblem that captures a unique moment of community spirit.

I don't know where the lesson lies in all this. I'm still digesting it. My wife and I are just normal Joes, modestly successful at what we do, but neither of us set the world on fire like we planned in our youths. Yet here dozens of people, many of them strangers, labored to do so much for us. Huh?

I think the answer must lie somewhere in that phrase. Mighty forces. Penned by British writer Basil King, depicted by American teacher John, each morning I wonder at it, enshrined overhead. It reminds me about what can be accomplished when ... when what, exactly?

"Be bold": writer Basil King

At first I thought these mighty forces were quasi-mystical powers, more theoretical than actual, to coax us away from inaction and fear, to not worry so much and take the leap -- the Charlton-Heston-in-The-Ten-Commitments way of saying you'll never win if you never try. Also, as a Christian, I inevitably tie it back to God, that He will bless our endeavors.

Those could both be true. But I think there's another component, a less ethereal and more earthly one. These were humans who embarked on this project, after all, and humans are complex, with a multitude of motivations. Why, why did they do it?

One answer is dumb luck. I happened to make my home amongst a group of big-hearted people. Another, is when we engage others and try making a difference in their lives, we might be repaid in unexpected ways. Certainly, I'll be the first to say that nothing I've done merited anything like what I received. But that attests to what I'm saying. It's not a one-for-one trade-off, doing for others. It's no factory job, you don't get paid per piece. You don't get paid at all, but do it because you want to. The good work is its own reward. However, every so often, a breathtaking rebate rolls your way ...

I write this not to crow or brag, but perhaps to inspire somebody else. Mighty forces are too heavy to carry on our own.

A thought exercise I came up with is a booklet of practical knowledge, to hand down to the young ones, so they could benefit from what we learn in the twisty, turny passages of life. I figure, why should every generation have to start from scratch? (As if they'd read it! I'd have torn out the pages to roll cigarettes.) My booklet would be short as possible, and it would include a quote from the Beatles.

It's one of the last harmonies they sang, at the end of their magically mysterious adventure that ended on Abbey Road. The screaming and controversy of Beatlemania had blown past, leaving only a soft, wobbly piano in the background tink-tink-tinkling a Chopsticks-like beat, and McCartney and Lennon (I like to imagine it's both, or maybe all of the boys this time) sing a line like you'd rehearse for your deathbed,

In the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.

POSTSCRIPT: Another Beatles line is All things must pass, and so, my friends I introduced to you here are moving on. They recognized a good opportunity, and pounced on it in typical Karen carpe diem style! They'll no longer be neighbors, but they'll always be friends. This column is a parting gift to them.

Our hosts here at Microsoft make it easy to work against MS just by being on the Internet. Through Microsoft's i'm Initiative, you contribute to the National MS Society simply by sending your normal e-mails or instant messages.

All you have to do is go to im.live.com -- and sign up for a free Hotmail e-mail account, or Windows Messenger instant messaging software. Then on your behalf, Microsoft will contribute to the MS Society with every single e-mail or instant message you send. Painless and positive and pretty nice.

You can also designate other charities like the Red Cross, Boys & Girls Clubs of America, UNICEF, Sierra Club, the Humane Society and others.

Another great way to contribute is to play the free games at Microsoft's club.live.com

You can donate the points you rack up to the MS Society, or any of the other charities there.

Disaboom readers: Thanks for your comments! I'll get back to you as soon as I figure out the software: I can tell something's there, but no actual wordsies appear. Huh???

This is the best news since chocolate is good for you!

Coffee seems to inhibit MS! At least it did for lab mice that were given an equivalent of 6-8 cups per day. Caffeine Could Stave Off Multiple Sclerosis, Forbes, June 29, 2008.

That is gigantic news in my world. The Wheeled Wonder's -- sorry, this Folgers IV bag keeps getting in the way -- I say, the Wheeled Wonder's body is comprised of 98.9 percent coffee. That's black coffee, Texas tea. So this item came across the wires here at Wonder Central like the espresso shot heard round the world.

In the laboratory, coffee prevented the immune system's attacking T-cells from attaching to the central nervous system.

It prevented the molecule adenosine, one of the four building blocks of DNA, from binding to the adenosine receptor at the cellular level. When adenosine cannot bind to receptors at the cellular level, this in turn prevents T-cells from reaching the central nervous system and setting off the events that lead to the animal version of MS.

i.e., no myelin pizza party for the T-cells. (Incidentally, my wife sometimes purrs that I have the animal version of MS, but here is not the place to kiss and tell.)

As ever with these studies, the results are only preliminary. Researchers must determine if the conclusions translate to humans. Then, since adenosine is used everywhere else in the body, a localized treatment must be devised.

I hear their message: hold your horses. Yes, yes, they have to say that. Meanwhile, most of my horses have already bolted the chute.

So, in the same vein as the vitamin D treatment I'm supposed to wait on but researched for myself and now supplement daily, I've got one thing to say --

Fire up that pot, Rosie, and make it a wicked one!

Those are my fireworks -- celebrate a merry Fourth!

Oh yeah, it's time to talk wine! This is cool like getting to go outside for class. Actually, class, today's word is resveratrol, making the news, clamoring for your attention. And with a name like that, you've got to take a second look!

I've written about this stuff before. It is the powerful antioxidant found in red wine, and seemingly its powers increase by the week. Already a couple years ago it appeared to be the fountain of youth, but as researchers study it, resveratrol accrues more and more benefits to its name.

The news in the past week is that resveratrol might inhibit obesity. Work at the University of Ulm in Germany found that resveratrol prevents the full development of the fat cells we carry in our bodies. (Wine Find: Red wine component resveratrol might fight obesity, lab tests show, by Nathan Seppa, Science News, June 16, 2008.)

Add to this earlier indications that resveratrol could fight cancer, and may very well become the next treatment for diabetes. Sounds like we've really got something major on our hands. Now, have a seat. There's more.

"I told you!"

My earlier comment about the fountain of youth? It's not so fatuous. Ponce de Leon might have saved himself the mortal grief of hacking through the malarial swamps of Florida, and stayed home in the sunny Mediterranean -- because the storied Fountain was right there in his pantry!

As reported earlier in the month by the New York Times, there are New Hints Seen That Red Wine May Slow Aging (by Nicholas Wade, June 4, 2008). Research continues linking resveratrol to prolonging life itself! Sounds crazy, I know. And I realize we hear goofy medical studies every day, like coffee's bad for you, then it's good, then it's bad for you again. But apart from the repeated good test results about resveratrol, I'd urge you to consider two other factors backing these particular studies:

1. "Some scientists are already taking resveratrol in capsule form," according to the Times article, although others think it's too early to begin prescribing. Too early for us, the hoi polloi, that is. David Sinclair, the lead researcher in this field, said several years ago already that all the scientists in his lab drink wine daily. Not only that, but he's giving resveratrol to his wife and parents. Nuff said.

2. If 'follow the researcher's family' isn't convincing enough, how about 'follow the money'? Sirtris, Sinclair's research firm, was purchased last month by GlaxoSmithKline for $720 million. This isn't Monopoly, and that's not play money.

Time and again (most recently in a University of Wisconsin report referenced in the story), resveratrol prolongs the life spans of mice. But not only longer lives, better ones. Even grossly overweight specimens are stronger and more active.

Giving you some ideas, is it? Well, truthfully, the study mice are receiving way more resveratrol than you and I can safely drink! But still, as I pointed out, that doesn't stop researchers from drinking a daily glass of pinot noir, the red wine most laden with resveratrol. (White wine contains negligible amounts, sorry.) Lesser amounts of resveratrol are also found in grapes (in the skins), peanuts and blueberries. One caution: the supplements currently on the market may not be up to speed yet.

So, a fruity glass on a beautiful summer's evening might do your spirit and your body a lot of good ...

Go, little book, and wish to all
Flowers in the garden, meat in the hall,
A bin of wine, a spice of wit,
A house with lawns enclosing it,
A living river by the door,
A nightingale in the sycamore!

Robert Louis Stevenson

On a day when the Mississippi Valley is under siege, when dozens of towns are laboring day and night in a heroic bid to save their bridges, homes and livelihoods,

A day when corporations, our elected officials in Congress and the President hatched a scheme granting him vast unchecked surveillance powers and pardoning whatever abuses occurred in secret over the past several years,

When official government documents disclosed that this great country tortured prisoners and hid them from the Red Cross,

On that day, CBS Evening News lead with

Tiger Woods. Five minutes of Tiger Woods, or 16% of its newscast.

Add onto that however much time they spent on the funeral of Tim Russert, who might have been a great guy, but more importantly, he was one of the media's own.

By the way, neither of the torture or surveillance items mentioned above received any coverage.

Well then, here is my nomination for the day's best news story. CBS, meet the Onion:

Man Who Used Stick To Roll Ball Into Hole in Ground Praised for His Courage

The last line is the kicker:

"The man in question apparently hurt his knee during this activity."

This year's Skydiving for MS is past, and while it didn't go off without a hitch -- due to the same threatening systems that dropped tornadoes around Chicago, all the day's flights were grounded -- we still had a big turnout, including our corporate sponsor Red Bull, and hailed plenty of attention and funds to the cause ($12-14,000 as of last week, final tally to come -- and that's even having lost the contributions of a busy day's worth of jumps, a percentage of which usually goes to our total).

This event naturally attracts energetic and optimistic people -- I was looking forward to jumping alongside a gentleman who is 97 years old, but it wasn't to be -- but no matter what happens during the day, we all leave the after-party feeling warm and ready to take on the world!

Thank you for your expressions of support! Next year, I'm taking it even higher.

Me on the left, with the Grand Poobah, Skydiving for MS Chairman Dave Perez

Fly, boys, fly

Conquer the sky!

SKYDIVING FOR MS COUNTDOWN: 5

What do you know, Skydiving for MS in England!

This being Stroke Awareness Month, take just a minute or two and learn these signs. Why, you ask? Aren't strokes only for old people?

No, stroke is the third-leading cause of death ... and it strikes everyone. Yes, the elderly. Yes, the overweight. But also young adults who are physically fit. Even, sometimes, children. It's true.

And the thing is, since nobody believes it will happen to them, many don't take the signs seriously enough. Sudden, excruciating headache? No problem, I'll sleep it off, just like I did in college. Dizziness? Inability to walk? Oh, it's just the sun. Get me a cold lemonade and let me sit here a while.

But a while is too long -- you only have about an hour to get those clot-busting drugs at the hospital that will dramatically improve the rest of your life.

Don't play around with this! Take just a minute or two and study these symptoms. There aren't many. Go over them once or twice, for you, for your loved ones.

This message is brought to you in honor of my courageous friend Vanita, who one day in her late 30s suffered a sudden, excruciating headache. Last year, she jumped at Skydiving for MS.

Keep going, girl!