I may be the last person to notice this, but it makes me as excited as can be.

Way back when, about ten years ago, I began seeing (and laughing at) TV ads that contained the web pages of the advertisers. I even started at one time a list of companies that had a web presence, although I seriously doubt that term was in vogue. I'd been on the Internet for awhile by then, but the Web was the new thing and getting all the ink.

Back then the entire Web address was frequently given, including the http://prefix. Nowadays, they usually mention no more than whatever.com.

That was okay. What started bugging me was that, along with the explosion of interest in the Internet, there grew legions of AOL users, and AOL decided it owned the Internet. For awhile there, it may have. The TV ads soon not only had to list the URL for their site, but -- horrors! -- their AOL "keyword." I guess they had some sort of jump thing, but I was never an AOL subscriber.

Later on, of course, the Netscape browser picked up this shortcut stuff and all you had to do was type in the relevant part of the address and it would add the http:// and the .com at the end, and I think that's pretty much all the AOL keyword address, too.

I hated AOL, but not with a passion. The good news now, and a testament to their declining popularity, is that hardly anyone gives you the AOL keyword any more.

I may be the last person to notice this, but it makes me as excited as can be.

Way back when, about ten years ago, I began seeing (and laughing at) TV ads that contained the web pages of the advertisers. I even started at one time a list of companies that had a web presence, although I seriously doubt that term was in vogue. I'd been on the Internet for awhile by then, but the Web was the new thing and getting all the ink.

Back then the entire Web address was frequently given, including the http://prefix. Nowadays, they usually mention no more than whatever.com.

That was okay. What started bugging me was that, along with the explosion of interest in the Internet, there grew legions of AOL users, and AOL decided it owned the Internet. For awhile there, it may have. The TV ads soon not only had to list the URL for their site, but -- horrors! -- their AOL "keyword." I guess they had some sort of jump thing, but I was never an AOL subscriber.

Later on, of course, the Netscape browser picked up this shortcut stuff and all you had to do was type in the relevant part of the address and it would add the http:// and the .com at the end, and I think that's pretty much all the AOL keyword address, too.

I hated AOL, but not with a passion. The good news now, and a testament to their declining popularity, is that hardly anyone gives you the AOL keyword any more.

I have a rule: If you find a bag on the side of the road stuffed with ten to fifteen thousand dollars, it's jackpot time! If, instead, you find a nice suitcase with $100,000 run like hell. Someone will be wanting it more than you do.

Today on my bike ride I was exercising vigilance. I spotted the following treasures: a quarter, a brand new wisk broom (with straw, not plastic, bristles), and a half-inch socket. I took the socket, because I'm constantly looking for that size, but that's not the point.

I hear all the time about people finding money on the side of the road, usually about those who turn it in. I usually do that, turn it in, but I've had a nagging desire to be one of the lucky ones who finds a fortune. I have to admit that I'd find the money helpful, and sometimes wish it was my destiny to be so fortunate.

Finding a bag of money on the side of the road is much more likely than, say, my becoming famous or marrying a princess (even, sadly, a Jewish-American one). It would be a minor miracle, but one I'd accept without question. I also think my odds of doing that are similar to my winning the lottery, but may be slightly better now that I ride a bicycle.

A nice big bag of money would be a pain to lose.

I have a rule: If you find a bag on the side of the road stuffed with ten to fifteen thousand dollars, it's jackpot time! If, instead, you find a nice suitcase with $100,000 run like hell. Someone will be wanting it more than you do.

Today on my bike ride I was exercising vigilance. I spotted the following treasures: a quarter, a brand new wisk broom (with straw, not plastic, bristles), and a half-inch socket. I took the socket, because I'm constantly looking for that size, but that's not the point.

I hear all the time about people finding money on the side of the road, usually about those who turn it in. I usually do that, turn it in, but I've had a nagging desire to be one of the lucky ones who finds a fortune. I have to admit that I'd find the money helpful, and sometimes wish it was my destiny to be so fortunate.

Finding a bag of money on the side of the road is much more likely than, say, my becoming famous or marrying a princess (even, sadly, a Jewish-American one). It would be a minor miracle, but one I'd accept without question. I also think my odds of doing that are similar to my winning the lottery, but may be slightly better now that I ride a bicycle.

A nice big bag of money would be a pain to lose.

Many more people, I think, ride bicycles than steal them, which is a good thing. It only takes one, though, and I was fortunate not to run across her today.

I rode up to Trader Joe's and was, not surprisingly, the worst dressed person in the store. Right as I got there I realized I'd left my keys at home and had no way to secure my bike to the shopping cart corral, as is my wont. Fortunately, and frighteningly, there's a guard stationed right outside the market. Why a guard is needed is anyone's guess, but I applaud this modest effort to keep the nation's workforce gainfully employed. If he didn't have this job, he might resort to stealing bicycles.

I carried my bike up the steps and found an out-of-the-way place to put it, thereby earning myself a nod from the guard. Not a smile, but it beat him reaching for his gun (if he had one).

I was dressed in my Easter finery (a black U2 T-shirt, shorts, and sandals) and was immediately aware that even in a place like Trader Joe's, which caters to a secular, liberal crowd, fully half the people in the store were dressed to the sevens. Not the nines -- I saw no evening or dining wear -- but as close to it as I've seen in, oh, a year. Men wore new suits and shiny ties, women often had hats.

Or, bonnets.

I bought some brie, bread, and sausage and rode home.

Many more people, I think, ride bicycles than steal them, which is a good thing. It only takes one, though, and I was fortunate not to run across her today.

I rode up to Trader Joe's and was, not surprisingly, the worst dressed person in the store. Right as I got there I realized I'd left my keys at home and had no way to secure my bike to the shopping cart corral, as is my wont. Fortunately, and frighteningly, there's a guard stationed right outside the market. Why a guard is needed is anyone's guess, but I applaud this modest effort to keep the nation's workforce gainfully employed. If he didn't have this job, he might resort to stealing bicycles.

I carried my bike up the steps and found an out-of-the-way place to put it, thereby earning myself a nod from the guard. Not a smile, but it beat him reaching for his gun (if he had one).

I was dressed in my Easter finery (a black U2 T-shirt, shorts, and sandals) and was immediately aware that even in a place like Trader Joe's, which caters to a secular, liberal crowd, fully half the people in the store were dressed to the sevens. Not the nines -- I saw no evening or dining wear -- but as close to it as I've seen in, oh, a year. Men wore new suits and shiny ties, women often had hats.

Or, bonnets.

I bought some brie, bread, and sausage and rode home.

My clothing, not to mention my body, may be far cleaner than necessary.

I've noticed a trend recently when it comes to cleaning products. Just about everything is new, improved, hard-working, tough, and I'm feeling a bit on the outside. I'm not sure if, as a kid, I had to change from school clothes to play clothes for the second half of each day, but I remember it. I'm just not sure if it's a real memory or comes from popular culture. At any rate, I *do* remember many, if not all, of my jeans having grass stains on the knees.

Like stubbed toes, grass stains are something I rarely get any more.

There used to be commercials for Lava soap, ads that showed burly men working in oil fields getting covered with grease and black filth. Lava soap, according to the ads, removed that and made the men acceptable for fine dining or, perhaps, lovemaking. For years I used Lava, marveling at its grit (pumice). Then, it occurred to me that I'd spent the majority of my working life in an office, not on oil drilling platforms. The worst I could expect was ink stains from careless replacements of printer ribbons. Ads for laundry detergent that was "powerful enough" to remove the stains shown, I realized, used as examples stains I rarely, if ever, receive.

It's been years since I've dumped a plate of spaghetti in my lap, if ever.

I'm a single adult. I don't get filthy, not often, and the mild perspiration and dust that settles on me could probably be as effectively cleaned with a rock and a stick in a rushing stream as with a new, high-powered detergent. I'd think, in this day and age, that there'd be a very inexpensive detergent sufficient for the mild effort my clothes and I need.

Years ago, when Marilyn Chambers was popular, I washed my clothes in Ivory Snow. I continued that until a few years ago when they, too, advanced to being a detergent. All I needed was soap, plain old soap, but now both my clothes and I are forced to endure the rigors of heavy-duty cleaners that are far more efficient than necessary.