That term took on new meaning for me last year, with my trip back to Maryland to see my mother in the hospital and spend time with family. This March has been considerably happier, though no less mad, with the residual exhaustion from my end-of-February trip to Los Angeles giving way to the no-less-exhausting preparations for Kim's gallery show Saturday and my mother's discharge from the rehab facility on Monday.

But that doesn't mean that I've completely forsaken that other, collectively sanctioned "madness" that is celebrated this time of year. Indeed, because I'm spending more time with my father, who has the television tuned to a sports channel much of the time, I still feel pretty engaged with the basketball world. In a little while, my Cal Bears will begin their longshot quest for a trip to the Dance, taking on USC in the second round of the Pac-10 Men's Tournament. And my father's Syracuse Orange will be playing in the Big East Men's Tournament at the same time.

The Orange are already guaranteed an NCAA slot, while Cal will have to make their conference tournament's final merely in order to be considered for an at-large berth. Frankly, with their lack of depth, I just don't see them having the stamina to win on two consecutive days, much less three. I've really grown to like this bunch of players, though, and know, having thrilled at their triple-overtime defeat to Arizona last month, that they have the will to go a long way if they get a few breaks. OK, time to reactivate my sporting anxiety and eat far too many Cheetos, come what may. Go Bears!!!

Tags: autobiography, everyday, sports
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