O.k., I'll admit it. I'm an idiot. When all else fails, I'll blog about the weather.

We're continuing to get away with it here in Oregon.

To the north of us, Seattle just gets over a flood and then it turns, as the kids say, hella windy. A big blast comes ripping down the Strait of Juan de Fuca. And I think we all know from personal experience how unpleasant that can be.

Down south, well, the raging Southern Cal infernos are just scary as all get out, I'm sure. Makes you think about renting "Day of the Locusts." But there's a simple explanation: When you put Karl Malone in a Laker uniform, nature strikes back.

Here in Greater Portlandia, it's been a little wacky, but nothing too bad. Last week we were muggy and in the 80s. By Friday of this week, we'll be dipping below freezing at night. The little trick-or-treaters' teeth will be chattering as they hurl eggs at the passing MAX trains.

And, man, the forecast is for dark. I looked out the window yesterday afternoon around 25 after 5, and it was time to start humming "Paint It Black." Pass the St. John's wort.