Post columnist John Kelly examines Metro dynamics. For instance, if you're sitting aisle-side with someone you don't know, and a full row opens up, should you jump to that window? Would that be offensive? Would it be any more awkward than being the last two people in the car and still being in the same row?

In the aisle position, I've wondered the same thing many times. But when sitting window-side, I've never felt offended if my unknown aisle person moves away. I have felt weirded out if the person's stayed as the car nearly empties — but with some degree of sympathy. Inner conflict is a hard thing to express to a stranger on a morning commute. ("I like you, really. I just need my space.") The ride is over soon enough, and you'll never have to see the person again. Probably. Recurring Metro characters make everything more complicated.

The postcard is of course of great interest to this site, and it's disheartening to read in Saturday's St. Petersburg Times of how the postcard industry is dying. Digital cameras are taking the work, and drugstore chains are ditching the sales. Says one of Florida's once-prolific postcard photographers, "I haven't been to the beach in years. Too crowded."

A letter from a man who loves his work and hates every minute of it.

… and get a free question-mark suit! Details are here. If I had $3,000 to spend, I'd be all over it.

I found this link after a guy named Rick e-mailed me about a different Lesko blog post, one announcing a contest with a $500 prize.

I don't know Rick, but I have a sneaking suspicion that he's actually Lesko using a psuedonym. Why? It's something in his word emphasis. For instance, Rick writes about Lesko, "He's giving away FREE MONEY!"

Or maybe he's just a fan, like me.

Chris Zefferys studies human resources.

Zefferys says that "nearly 50 percent of workers are dissatisfied with their jobs, a figure that has steadily climbed since 1995."

"My research also indicates that the highest rate of job dissatisfaction is in the preretirement years–and Baby Boomers are maturing."

Are you one or the other?

Joshua Foer writes for Slate this week about the U.S. Memory Championship, which is exactly what the name suggests. These contestants amaze me. Sure, I'm easily amazed and even people who can recall sitcom quotes impress me, but these Memory Championship people stand out. I have a good memory for the random but not for the important or the consistent. In high school, I'd forget my locker combination each Christmas and spring break. This is why I write things down. Or type them. Because I also have bad handwriting. Which has nothing to do with this. (Zap. Locker combination gone.)

Chicagoans love St. Patrick's Day, and Sun-Times writer Mike Thomas apparently loves it more than most. He has a pair of stories in Thursday's paper about, first, the greatness of Danny Boy and, second, how he once competed in a Danny Boy singing contest.

Know this: It ain't easy. Its wide dynamic range falls just outside the vocal comfort zone — kind of like "The Star Spangled Banner" and much of the Led Zeppelin canon. And it shouldn't be rendered too slowly. Or too quickly. Or too mawkishly.

Read on. Me, I'm more partial to Irish Lullaby (or Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, I can't find a solid source on the name). Family reasons. But from glen to glen, I'll give you Danny Boy to bring the house down.

Like with any other major holiday, St. Patrick's Day stories in the nation's newspapers are a mixed bag. Mostly, that bag is full of junk. St. Patrick's Day at school, at the nursing home, at the local pub and Irish historical society office. But in yesterday's Washington Post, Foreign Service writer Mary Jordan has a winner, all about the wacky and growing cult of clover.

Ed Martin, a retiree in Alaska, hopes to soon become the world record holder for collecting real four-leaf clovers. Martin, 73, who operated heavy machinery, said he tooled around the United States in a motor home for years picking the clovers to give away.

"I always got a smile," he said in a telephone interview. Several years ago, Martin decided to get serious about collecting, and he said he now has about 80,000 four-leaves pressed into plastic sheeting. Officials in his small Alaskan town of Soldotna are preparing the paperwork to nominate him for a Guinness world record.

The current record holder is a Pennsylvania prison inmate, George Kaminski. While serving time on a kidnapping conviction for the past 25 years, Kaminski has gathered 72,927 four-leaf clovers. He found them, one at a time, hidden in the grass of prison yards.

Meet these people and the guy in Mexico City who sells them out of his station wagon.

Whatever you think of Robert Blake, his trial or its verdict, this is one hell of a quote.

"I'm going to go out and do a little cowboyin'. You know what that is? Cowboying is getting in a motor home or a van or something like that and you just let the air blow in your hair and you wind up in some little bar in Arizona someplace…. You shoot one-handed nine-ball with some 90-year-old Portuguese woman who beats the hell out of you, and the next day you wind up in a park someplace playing chess with somebody, and you go see a high school play where they're doing West Side Story.

"You just roam around and get some revitalization that there are human beings in the world, that there are people living their lives that have no agenda."

Full story.

Into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Well, there I was sitting down on the couch in my pajamas with my eldest son. He was watching TV. I was doing one of my favorite things. I was tallying up all the money I passed up in endorsements over the years and thinking of all the fun I could have had with it.Suddenly I hear "Uno, dos, tres, catorce!" I look up. But instead of the silhouettes of the hippie-wannabes bouncing around in the iPod commercial, I see my boys! Oh my God! They sold out! Now, what I know about the iPod is this: It is a device that plays music. Of course, their new song sounded great, my guys are doing great, but methinks I hear the footsteps of my old tape operator of Jimmy Iovine somewhere.

Wily. Smart.

Now, personally, I live an insanely expensive lifestyle that my wife barely tolerates. I burn money, and that calls for huge amounts of cash flow. But, I also have a ludicrous image of myself that keeps me from truly cashing in. You can see my problem. Woe is me.

So, the next morning, I call up Jon Landau (or as I refer to him, "the American Paul McGuinness"), and I say, "Did you see that iPod thing?" and he says yes. And he says, "And I hear they didn't take any money." And I said, "They didn't take any money?" and he says no.

I said, "Smart, wily Irish guys. Anybody – anybody – can do an ad and take the money. But to do the ad and not take the money… that's smart. That's wily." I say, "Jon, I want you to call up Bill Gates or whoever is behind this thing and float this: a red, white and blue iPod signed by Bruce 'The Boss' Springsteen. Now remember, no matter how much money he offers, don't take it!"

 Full text of the speech.