Atticus   

If the “American empire” is indeed at its end, as Iran’s president claims, we’ll have no one to blame but ourselves.

What are CNN.com’s most popular stories six weeks from the election for president, in the middle of one of the country’s biggest financial situations, during wars in Iraq and Afghanistan? Lindsay Lohan and Clay Aiken coming out of the closet, the first couple to get booted from the new season of Dancing with the Stars, Nicole Kidman’s pregnancy and a chain of Christian bookstores not selling a book about female pastors.

Nothing to see here, folks … Bread and circuses for everyone … Carry on …

The average young person spends more than eight hours each day using technology and much less time engaging in direct social contact. Our UCLA brain-scanning studies are showing that such repeated exposure to technology alters brain circuitry … Instead of the traditional generation gap, we’re witnessing the beginning of a brain gap that separates digital natives, born into 24/7 technology, and digital immigrants, who came to computers and other digital technology as adults.

This perpetual exposure to technology is leading to the next major milestone in brain evolution … Today, video-game brain, Intenet addiction and other technology side effects appear to be suppressing frontal-lobe executive skills and our ability to communicate face to face. Instead, our brains are developing circuitry for online social networking and are adapting to a new multitasking technology culture.

—Gary Small, M.D.
Director, UCLA Memory
& Aging Research Center

Related: “Is Google Making Us Stupid?”

Recently I came home from a week in Provincetown, Mass., to a mail slot jammed with catalogs, bills, magazines, loan offers—and an invitation to a wedding reception.

What a fitting coincidence, to return from a vacation in a seaside resort town long treated as a summertime haven for gay men and women, in the first state of the union to sanction gay marriage, and find a set of two formal envelopes requesting my presence at a very public celebration of two men pledging their lives to one another.

I’ve known Chuck, one-half of the happy couple, for almost 10 years. We met online, and he was the first gay guy I became friends with after renouncing reparative therapy.

Before I bought my truck and when he still had his old one, he helped me move from an apartment in suburban Atlanta to an apartment in Buckhead. One fall five or six years ago, we played on a gay softball team together.

Now he’s doing something I’m not sure either of us ever dreamed would be possible, all those years ago: getting hitched to someone he loves.

In this month’s issue of The Atlantic, writer Andrew Sullivan—who, funnily enough, I saw riding a bike while I was in Provincetown—talked about the significance of his own induction into the tradition of matrimony. “Everyone involved themselves in our love. They asked how I had proposed; they inquired when the wedding would be; my straight friends made jokes about marriage that simply included me as one of them. At that first post-engagement Christmas with my in-laws, I felt something shift. They had always been welcoming and supportive. But now I was family.”

For years Chuck has been traveling to Austin to spend time with Daylon’s family, but I suspect this ceremony will, just as it did for Sullivan, further solidify his bond to his newly official kinfolk.

Will I follow one day in their footsteps? It remains to be seen. For whatever reason, I don’t fall in love easily. But I’m grateful for the trailblazers, mavericks and upstarts before me who have paved the way for making it an option. Including Chuck.

Bound for Denver from my connection in Atlanta, I was sitting in a window seat three rows from the back of the plane. I’d chosen it that morning when, during online check-in, I realized how many empty seats remained in that section.

I like to sit in a row with an empty middle seat when I can because it gives me room to stretch my legs and maybe even secure a position for sleeping.

But shortly before take-off, a family of six – a dad, a mom, three daughters and a son – made their way down the aisle in my direction. After the father stowed every piece of their carry-on luggage, he was (much to my relief) the only one to take a seat in my row.

When he first saw me I thought I saw him light up just slightly but wasn’t sure why.

Seconds later after he settled in, I got my answer.

“So how do you think your boys are gonna do this fall?” he asked as he nodded his head and shifted his eyes toward the Auburn baseball cap on my head.

I smiled. “I’m hopeful, but we have a new offensive coordinator, new defensive coordinator and new offense. So it’s tough to say.”

We spent about the first 45 minutes of the flight talking about nothing other than the upcoming season.

It was flattering. Because I’m a graduate of a member of the Southeastern Conference, by default I was treated as a man in the know. It felt good. He—an Ohio State fan living in NFL-focused Colorado—was hungry to talk college football and knew I could fill his plate.

It’s not just a sport to Southerners. It’s an institution, a family tradition, a common bond. And I’m so glad it’s finally here.

If you ever wondered whether city workers fall more so into one political party or another, then look no further than my office today. It’s not even 3:30, and only two people remain on my floor.