I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about poor people lately. I’m not exactly sure why. OK, I know why. Because we are in a recession and you cannot stop at a red light or enter a store without someone asking for money.

Also, there was a moment in Popeyes Chicken that I have been regretting for a while now.  It’s a long story, which I will get to momentarily.

There are no statistics to back this up, but there seem to be more homeless people in Fresno during the winter. A lot more. In my mind, that’s because it is warmer here than in most parts of the country, and homeless people migrate to the West Coast* from North Dakota or Vermont or Russia. Somewhere cold. In downtown Fresno, there are little towns of people living in tents and boxes under the overpasses and sometimes I drive around down there and gawk. It’s unbecoming, I realize, but I justify it by thinking that I am at least aware of the homeless problem, which is something. It’s not helping, but it’s something.

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The blog is back after some technical difficulties and some serious slacking, and so much has happened that it could take months to fully catch up. First off, my brother got married, which is awesome. Mostly because it was him and not me. That’s not the only reason it was awesome, but the most important. So happy for him. For both of us, really.

Seriously, though, it was a big deal our family. There are just two of us, my brother Tony and I. We are both in our early 30s now and my mother was threatening to go Kramer vs. Kramer on us if someone didn’t get his life in order, stop being STUPID, stop living like COLLEGE STUDENTS, and get married as the Lord had intended five to six years ago.

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I saw a cover band last weekend at a little place in Fresno, and that band played “Free Bird.” It always does.

It went over well, because it’s a classic and people know it. I always get sort of a melancholy feeling when I hear it. (”If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?”) I mean, I think he really wants to stay with the girl. I think a lot of times people use the whole, “Oh, I’m a free spirit, I was born to run” stuff to let someone down easy, or escape a relationship that isn’t working, but I really think he loves her. He’s tortured by the fact that he can’t change. He’s singing about it, and that’s got to mean something, right? I could be over-analyzing.

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What would qualify as a satisfactory result in the following scenario? …

Let’s say I promised to give you $20,000. You are good and basically deserving person and you really do need the money. You are thankful, of course, for my money and so you tell people about the generous gift. You tell people what you are going to do with the generous gift, the new hot tub and the boat and the bathroom renovation.

Keep in mind that this is a pledge, not a promise or a contractual obligation. I don’t have to pay you the money. You cannot take me to court if I don’t pay the money. It’s me being philanthropic and you being grateful, and geez, isn’t the world a lovely place?

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I wanted to pass along a note that was not necessarily intended to be passed along. It came from New York Times reporter John Branch. It’s an email he sent after I forwarded him the previous blog post about the Fresno Bee sports department moving to the other end of the building and our former desk being abandoned.

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A little housekeeping on a Tuesday afternoon …

- The first in a series of outdoors columns is over at the Fresno Bee sports blog, complete with photos and distracting rants about hot sauce and pregnant women. Read that here. The first in what will hopefully be a long and non-lethal blog series, was a day trip to a trail in Kings Canyon National Park.

- I’m beyond irritated that I didn’t tell you about this sooner, but a television channel called Investigation Discovery had a recent show that I should have been on, and I’m not even kidding. Investigation Discovery is a relatively new network, a subsidiary of the Discovery Channel, and it has a show on Friday evenings called “Call 911.” Last Friday’s episode featured the story of Philip Schuth. I think I can say with relative certainty, that I am the media’s leading expert on Philip Schuth. Heck, I might be humanity’s leading expert on Philip Schuth, because the guy doesn’t have many friends.

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This will be a sad post for a few people. The desk is retired. It might end up being a Favrian retirement, but for now it looks permanent.

When I got to work Thursday, this is what my desk looked like …

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So many things to catch you up on here. First off, I’m starting a new series about the outdoors*, which I haven’t come up a name for yet, but we’re getting there. Then there’s the San Diego Marathon, which I didn’t officially run this weekend. There’s the Fresno State baseball team, which officially ended its run this weekend. Also, I’m considering an entire blog on the new Mentos gum that is both exhilarating and disappointing. In that order.

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I’m still not exactly sure how this works. The other day, for instance, I wanted to post a blog, a Q & A with Paul Loeffler, the radio voice of the Fresno State Bulldogs, a man who wrote a book about the 2008 College World Series called “Underdogs to Wonderdogs.” It’s an outstanding story of underdog-ed-ness, I guess you’d say, and at some point I will do a book review here, along with the other two books about the Fresno State championship.

The problem is, you can’t read the Q & A here, because I didn’t post it here, mostly because I posted it here … http://fresnobeehive.com/sportsbuzz/matt_james/

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I love Minnesota. I really do. But it’s a strange place. And frankly, I think it has it out for me. Minnesota has produced more of my ex-girlfriends than any other state, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, because I never really spent much time there. And the three months I actually did live in Minnesota – a lovely little town called La Crescent, in an apartment complex I almost burned down in a chicken/stove-related incident – I couldn’t get a single date. The Gopher State is cruel, and I’m not just talking about the winters or the fish recipes*. Oh, but Minnesotans, the people, are absolutely great. They will definitely dump you treat you to some good ol’ fashioned hospitality. I should know promise.

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