Since it happened in Arkansas, it hit pretty close to home. In a campground, described by a vacationer as "one of the most beautiful places on earth," hundreds of campers were overwhelmed by a "wall of water" that came in the middle of the night. A river that's normally about knee deep rose to a depth of 23 feet during the night - eight feet in one hour! I'm looking at the 8' walls in my office and trying to imagine a wall of water almost three times higher than that.

It's been one of those weeks. Our family's been hit with one medical crisis after another. One in the Northeast, one in the Southwest, one in the Midwest. Phone calls, e-mails and texts have been flying back and forth across the country as we've tried to keep up with each others' emerging diagnoses and treatments.

It always makes me feel sad when another marriage comes apart. Some separations you can see coming. Others come as a shock...like Al and Tipper Gore.

Wednesday's USA Today had them front and center on the front page, in a passionate hug and kiss at the 2004 Democratic Convention. But the headline shouts: "Gores to split after 40 years." One pop culture professor calls it "absolutely stunning. They appeared to be a totally functional modern, working couple." That's what makes the author of "Marriage, A History" conclude that "It's impossible to tell what goes on in a marriage."

Fans of the groundbreaking TV series "Lost" have been texting and e-mailing and tweeting and Facebooking like mad the last couple of days...ever since their much-talked about show's final episode Sunday night. I only caught a few minutes here and there of the brain-teasing events on that island where a plane crash started it all. But my friends who've followed "Lost" have sure been talking about how it all ended.

I never got hooked on the TV series "Lost," but a whole lot of my friends sure did. I've often seen them the day after, shaking their heads, rolling their eyes, and tongue-tied when it came to trying to explain what happened the night before. Sunday night, their long journey ended with a 2 1/2 hour finale, creatively titled, "The End."

Somebody stole the cross. Go figure.

For sure, the news story got my attention. The missing cross is a six-foot tall metal structure that's been embedded in rock and concrete, perched high up on Sunrise Rock in the Mojave Desert. Veterans placed it there to honor those who've died fighting for their country.

It's been there for 75 years. No problem. Suddenly, it's a problem. People who don't want it there argued against it all the way to the Supreme Court. For now, the Justices said it could stay. But now, somebody just went up there and stole the cross. It's crazy.

For years, the headlines were all about Tiger Woods' triumphs. Now, it seems like they're all about Tiger's troubles. In his first tournaments since his sexual infidelities were exposed, he just wasn't the almost invincible golfer we knew before. Then last weekend he had to drop out of a tournament because of painful neck spasms. On Monday, his swing coach quit.

Now they're talking about throwing old tires down a pipe. That's the latest idea for trying to contain that massive oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. I've got a few tires they could use.

The authorities are literally scrambling for ways to keep that gunk from destroying wildlife, wiping out fishing industries, polluting beaches and sinking tourism. Potential damage to the environment of this magnitude is no laughing matter. It's cause to mount an all-out, even desperate attempt to stop it. I've turned on the news to find them deploying booms and nets to hold back the oil...setting the water on fire to burn up the oil...lowering a huge dome to contain and siphon off the oil. Oh yeah, and the tires.

We went to an IMAX theater over the weekend, and I was blown away - three IMAX-enhanced movies about the wonder of the world we live in.

First, we spent 45 minutes in the high and mighty majesty of the Alps. Mountain peaks that defy human conquest. Amazing stuff!

The tornado sirens went off near our daughter's house a few nights ago. She knew what to do. She and our son-in-law quickly herded their three children into the basement until the danger passed.

Unfortunately, Nikki Carpenter lived outside of town where she couldn't hear the tornado sirens. She and her three young sons had no time to prepare, and there was no basement in the trailer where they lived. For me, Nikki's story seems especially moving on this Mother's Day weekend.