I bought my first Macintosh computer in the bookstore at Sweet Briar College, because it was the only place around to find Apple products. It was a Macintosh IIsi, because even in the early 1990s, Apple loved mixing upper- and lower-case letters. The computer - a fat little plastic pizza box - cost the same as a used car. But it was worth it.

The plastic bag was marked, with sarcasm and black ink, as containing "premium menhaden." As if there are different grades of the most important fish in the sea. The two specimens smelled of saltwater, the way fresh fish will. The eyes were clear and bright, the flesh firm to the touch.

More than a year after we began asking folks to confirm their identity in order to comment at the Opinion channel at PilotOnline.com, we have some results: - More than 900 people are now verified commenters. - Nearly 100 people have signed up in the past 45 days. - In 14 months, verified users have posted more than 16,600 comments.

During his long career in Virginia politics, Bill Bolling has rarely been accused of being a centrist. He might not be the kind of microphone-seeking controversialist that some of his peers were and are, but the Hanover County Republican has never been anybody's idea of a RINO, or whatever the current slur is for "moderate."

Political promises have been with us since humans selected the first leader of the first clan in the first cave. So have lies. But it is only relatively recently that we've dropped the pretense of believing that political promises are what we usually mean by that word - assertions that something will or will not be done.

If an urban planner suggested daily financial penalties as a way of guiding where people live and work, he'd be accused of the worst kind of social engineering. He'd be pilloried or mocked - and rightly so. Sustainable community development is undoubtedly a laudable impulse, but a free society doesn't get there by charging residents a daily monetary penance for noncompliance.

The stoplight at the bottom of the Market Street ramp in Norfolk was red, and traffic was still. My phone rang: "The good news is they've got an appointment for you. The bad news is that it's right now." I drove to the office, turned on my computer, ran down some coffee, turned off my computer and headed back to Suffolk.

Whenever somebody hires you to come in and fix a problem, chances are pretty good that they don't really know what's wrong. Otherwise, they would've fixed it already. It's a sad fact of life in middle management: stuck between the geniuses above and the fools below. Or at least that's how the folks who hire you describe it. They are often wrong about that - and just about everything else.

Herman Cain should be glad he's not running for Norfolk's City Council. Or the Virginia Statehouse. Or the governor's mansion. Because the allegations against him - their weight and number and his explanations - would be enough to finish any other political career in any other setting.

If you're surprised by an election, goes an adage I just made up, you deserve what you get. There are no surprise elections. They appear on the calendar months before anyone needs to register, let alone educate themselves. Ordinarily, candidates will call and write and shake your hand for weeks before Election Day.