"So you planning to go on a cruise sometime soon?" The guy checking me out at the drugstore pointed to the newspaper I was buying and asked me that with a wry smile. On the front page was the haunting picture of that capsized Italian cruise ship, overturned after going aground.

Here's a ship, larger than Titanic, eerily leaning into the sea. As of right now, 11 passengers are confirmed dead and more than 20 are still missing. Thousands of passengers are telling their stories of panic, mayhem and harrowing, uncoordinated escapes.

I like Tim Tebow. So this weekend's Broncos/Patriots playoff game hurt to watch.

No last-quarter or last-minute miracles. Tebow's team lost and lost bad. With a final score of 45-10, they weren't just beaten. They were crushed.

So much for anybody who thought Jesus is a ticket to the Super Bowl - or even a league championship. Because without preaching - just by living it - Tim's got us thinking of Jesus when we think of him. The media's all over the Tim Tebow story. Tim Tebow seems to want to redirect the attention. To Jesus.

Two stories in the news stuck out to me. The first troubling story said that Twinkies may be going bankrupt. How can that be? Talk about too big to fail! But, alas, there's word that the company that makes Twinkies may be filing for Chapter 11. Perhaps, if I eat enough of them in the next couple of weeks, I can make a difference.

I really like football. I just don't have much time to watch it. But this past weekend, I watched a whole game! And it wasn't even my team!

I watched the Denver Broncos win an astonishing victory over the heavily favored Pittsburgh Steelers in a wild-card playoff game. But I was watching more than a football game. I was watching Tim Tebow - and the drama that unfolds every time he takes the field these days. Yesterday was no exception.

Andy was a logical choice to play the Christmas angel in our college's annual musical. Blonde-haired, light-skinned - and he should have worn his glasses.

The auditorium was packed. The antiphonal choirs were singing, "While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night." The shepherds and sheep were "sleeping" center stage. Then "the angel of the Lord appeared unto them." Actually, Andy stepped out onto the little platform above the shepherds.

Our pre-school grandson must have overheard the weather forecast last night. "Chance of rain - maybe a few snow flurries." That's all he needed to hear.

He began to pray fervently. "Jesus, please make it snow tomorrow." Flurries are barely snow, but apparently the mention of them is enough fuel for hope. And faith. Especially faith.

I won't be going to a Lady Gaga concert soon. But tons of people have and will. To some, the headline-generating singer is just another cultural side show. But at least for now, the entertainer known for her bizarre outfits and wild performances, is an A-list celebrity and a cultural icon.

And - it's all too easy to forget - she's a person. Like all of us, a person with a story. She's starting to tell some of that story. As I read part of it yesterday, I felt sad. For all of her stratospheric success in the spotlight, there's apparently a lot of hurt offstage.

I was in one of those "big box" stores over the weekend - and Santa was strolling the aisles wishing everyone a Merry Christmas. I told my wife, "It was fun to see Santa. I was just a little surprised to see him carrying pepper spray on his belt."

OK - I made that part up. But the thought never would have occurred to me, except for the crazy Black Friday headlines. People getting pushed, punched, sprayed, hospitalized, even shot - all in the frenzy to get some coveted item cheap.

We'll have Pilgrims on our table on Thanksgiving. Nice ceramic Pilgrims. They won't eat.

We'll also have pilgrims at our table. Living, breathing pilgrims. And, man, will they eat!

We're all pilgrims, whether we know it or not. No, not the kind that wear black hats, white bonnets or big buckles. But the kind William Bradford, the governor of the Plymouth colony, wrote about.

As the intrepid Mayflower travelers were preparing to leave England and head into the unknown, Bradford wrote about what was in their hearts. "They knew they were pilgrims, and looked not so much on these things, but lifted up their eyes to the heavens, their dearest country, and quieted their spirits."

In the midst of managing a war and a wild economy, the President of the United States will again this Thanksgiving step up to one of the most decisive responsibilities of his office. He will pardon a turkey. Actually, two turkeys. This is serious business. There's actually a backup turkey - just in case Turkey #1 isn't able to serve as - what one writer called - the ungobbled gobbler.