I’ll admit it. There are many mysteries in this world I will never be able to grasp. Like, when did time begin? How big is the universe? Is there life after death? Why does a loving God let good people suffer? How can I get the flashing “12:00” on my VCR set to the correct time?

And this week I find myself confronted with yet another unfathomable enigma: Why does the entire state of Montana hate me?

That’s right. I am convinced Montana hates me. And I have absolutely no idea what I have done to offend it. You see, I periodically check Google Analytics to see where traffic to my web site comes from. I have had visitors from every continent (except Antarctica).

I have had web site visitors from Tanzania, Malaysia, Indonesia, New Zealand, Belarus, China, South Korea, Ghana, and just about every nation in Europe. I’ve had visitors come all over – from Maui to Moscow, from Singapore to Sao Paolo. In the past year I have had at least one visitor from every single state in the USA…. except for… you guessed it – Montana. Not one visit from anyone in Montana in 12 months – nada –– zippo – zilch – bupkes.

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[To LISTEN to an audio podcast of this week's column, press the PLAY button arrow below.]

Saturday afternoons are my favorite time of the week. This afternoon was no exception. It’s the perfect time for me to write. Everyone is out of the house. No interruptions from daughters wanting me to be their personal taxi service or demands to “please tell my sister to stay out of my room.” Just a few precious hours of rare alone time, perfect to get in the mood to write my column. Just me and the cats, with no distractions.

This week’s column was going to be an insightful commentary about the challenges of attention deficit disorder, which afflicts many people as they approach middle age (not that I have any issues around this). As I got ready to write, I looked down, and that’s when I noticed it: a large orange stain on the carpet by my desk. How long has that been there?

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