So there I was working away at the computer, trying hard not to think that out of the quasi-intelligent posts I've run this week---such as "Blog Blast for Peace" and "Does the abstinence message for drug use work?" ---the Houston Chronicle decided to feature for this week my self-indulgent segue-to-review post about a boyfriend from over twenty years ago. (Hi Houstonians, thanks for continuing to tap in. And Dear Editor, I am not complaining. I'm grateful, immensely.) I thought a bit of music was in order while I worked, so I hit up YouTube, which is like crack for iPod deficient middle-aged women (which my loving husband assures me I am, the middle-aged part that is). I was enjoying a bit of Stevie Wonder (anyone want to go to his concert with me in December? I asked my husband but he was laughing too hard to reply beyond, "Are you freaking kidding me? Isn't he dead? Boy you really are a little old lady. Stevie Wonder ." And then he had to ...