The Herald Bulletin, Anderson, Indiana

Tony Dow, who played the Beav's big brother in the 1960s sictom "Leave It to Beaver," has built quite a career for himself as a director and artist.
Now comes word that one of Dow's abstract sculptures has been selected for an exhibit at the Louvre in Paris.

Yeah, the one the guy died in at the beginning of "The Da Vinci Code."

The sculpture by Dow, 63, will be part of the Societe National des Beaux-Arts Exhibition in December.

"Uh, gee, Wally, bein' in the Louvre is kinda neat, huh?" whined his little brother.

Those who know your Uncle Rod know that he likes his coffee strong, his women sassy and his Christmas presents with frilly little ribbons.

And he also likes him some "Morning Joe" on MSNBC.

Joe, Mika, Willie, Courtney, Erin, Mike and the others offer a more relaxed, more real morning show, something sorely lacking in the forced cheeriness and banality of "Today," "Good Morning America," "The Early Show" and all the others.

Did anyone else notice something odd on Saturday? At about 11 a.m.?

The warning sirens went off. The sirens that usually go off at noon.

An hour later.

Now, a glitch like this might be explainable by factoring in the annual expiration of daylight-saving time.

Except that, as far as Uncle Rod can surmise, the sirens would STILL be set to go off at noon. So even if the clocks did "fall back" to 11 a.m., the only way they would've gone off at that time would be if someone rang them, personally, using a clock set to the wrong time.

Skimming the blogs here today, I was stunned at the time that has elapsed since I last blogged. (Gee, that sounds distasteful.)

So here I am, rested and relaxed after my participation in the triumphant Indiana Public Radio production of "H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds." If you missed it, be looking for it on the Web sometime this week: www.bsu.edu/ipr.

And, like any journalist, I'm just all a'twitter with anticipation over Tuesday night. It's Election Night, of course, the night that has been making news people drink heavily for 200 years.

As a Democrat and a supporter of Barack Obama, it is especially difficult for me to say this, but Sarah Palin rocked "Saturday Night Live" last night.

Good-natured, self-deprecating, she even joined in (as far as she felt comfortable, being a vice presidential candidate and all) on a rap song about her. (The immensely pregnant and darling Amy Poehler ended up singing it.) Just a tremendously funny and entertaining appearance.

What would you think if I told you to stop
And not send me your keepsakes to sign?
Log on the Web and I'll act like a jerk
And I'll tell you I'm still feeling fine.

Oh, I get lots of little notes from my fans
Oh, I'm gonna shun the little notes from my fans.
Yes, I'm gonna shun the little notes from my fans
The little notes from my faaaaaaaaaans.

As an alumnus of Ball State University -- twice, until I got it right -- I am beside myself with giddy glee that the Fighting Cardinals are ranked in three polls this week after they degraded and humiliated the Western Kentucky Hilltoppers Saturday. Next week: the Eastern Michigan Eagles. Rotisserie style.

GO CARDS!

Later this month, live on WBST-FM 92.1, a cast will present a production of Orson Welles' original 1938 radio classic "The War of the Worlds," based on the novel by H.G. Wells.

This was, you might know, the broadcast that panicked listeners all over the country. There were few notices included to assure those at home that this was just a Halloween prank, and so some thought the Martian invasion of Earth was real.

It's Tuesday morning, the day after the bailout was voted down and the stock market stepped out of a perfectly good plane without a parachute.

And I'm as angry as I've ever been in my life.

In this next election, vote no on every incumbent on the ticket. (Well, maybe not Richard Lugar. We like him.) But everyone else? Kick them out. Or at least kick out enough of them so that the others get the message:

Stop the whining and pettiness and playground childishness.

Get over yourselves.

Stop fretting about your re-election.

As a lover and student of film, I am experiencing the saddest day I've known for a long, long time. Paul Newman has died. He was 83, and he was more than an actor. He was an American icon, every bit as much as John Wayne or James Dean. You need only watch "Cool Hand Luke" or "The Hustler" to see it. And after all that, he became a philanthropist of epic proportions, with his Newsman's Own line of products. It's just sad, sad, sad.