One of the great things about life in the modern age is that it’s interactive. Media used to be a one-way street. Now you can read a story online and immediately rattle off your opinion about the topic of the story, the typo in the third paragraph, the writer’s predilection for unnecessary adverbs or a TV anchor’s hair style or suit.

For the humble web content producer, this means that on any given story, there may be a long string of anonymous comments which, in some unfortunate circumstances, may be used in court battles as evidence that a jury was unduly influenced by them. Generally speaking, this is not considered a good thing. Why should readers be able to leave anonymous comments? Shouldn’t they stand by their opinion? Internet advocates argue that your site should be accessible and interactive, without too many barriers – like making people log in to leave comments.

These are questions that are being seriously debated in the world of journalism. What is a news outlet’s responsibility when it comes to allowing such comments on stories? What if a comment is blatantly racist or sexist? What if it’s on the line of what’s acceptable, and who draws that line? Is that censorship?

In answer to the last question, you bet it is. I don’t think hate speech has any place anywhere, and if I see that a comment has crossed the line of what I feel comfortable with on the site, I will delete it. On WTHR.com, we also have a system whereby other users can flag a comment as inappropriate. If three people flag it, it comes back to the moderator for another look.

It’s all about balance. We want to give readers the opportunity to react to stories and to share their opinions or experiences. But more often than not, they also share their prejudices too. For me, if those opinions become too hateful, or if they appear to be libelous (e.g. “that woman is a liar!”), I don’t allow them. But it’s a very tough call, because it’s subjective. Some sites allow everything and let their readers do the policing. WTHR.com uses a moderator who looks at all incoming comments.

One thing to consider is your workplace’s anti-harassment policy. It will probably state that there will be no discrimination based on race, color, gender, national origin, religion or disability, among other things. When you post a comment on a story, think about whether your statement is a criticism based on those points. If everyone would just give a little more thought to their gut reactions, we’d probably all have a better chance at dialogue and discussion.

It’s Bike to Work Day. That may mean nothing to you, or, for the teeny tiny minority of central Indiana residents who ride their bike to work, that may mean a small sense of validation for a lifestyle decision for which we are marginalized and ridiculed by the SUV-driving cycnical masses.

CityBeat reporter Mary Milz and WTHR.com web content manager Sara Galer put together a “point counterpoint” list of reasons why we bike to work. Or not, as the case may be.

Here’s Mary:

Why I don’t bike to work.

I work out regularly. I run, swim and during the summer months, I bike, but I don’t bike to work. I feel mildly guilty about that but I have a litany of excuses that I rattle off to my colleague Sara Galer, who rides religiously. Here are my reasons why I DON’T bike to work.

1) I have to go to bed and wake up early to accommodate the extra 25 minutes it would take to get to work. I treasure my zzzzzz’s

2) I can’t fit everything I need for the day in a backpack – make-up, hair dryer, shoes, clothes, towel, toiletries, etc (that’s not to mention getting a suit to work without crumpling it up in a ball of wrinkles.)

3) That means pre-planning – bringing everything to work a day or two before. Heck, I can’t even get my lunch packed the night before!

4) The shower thing – we have one at work, which is great but it’s like a shower you’d find on a small sailboat… Plus I’d have to wait in line for Sara and other colleagues who occassionally ride in.

5) I carry extra gear in my car – hats, gloves, boots, jeans, etc. Just in case I’m sent to cover, say flooding.

6) What if I need to meet someone for lunch – no wheels. Do I show up in biking clothes?

7) I like the Monon but riding downtown can get a little crazy, especially at rush hour.

8) What if the weather changes? It’s fine on the way in, but what if it starts to pour or storm when I’m ready to leave?

9) And, what if my plans change? I suddenly need to be somewhere after work? What if it’s across town? What if it’s after dark? You’re not supposed to ride the Monon after dusk (and before dawn.)

10) I’m sometimes tired after a long day and still have to get home and get a run or swim in – which brings me back to zzzzzzzz’s.

I admire you Sara – you are my hero, but I just don’t think I have the pedal power in me to ride to work on a regular basis.

My reply:

In 2004, my then-future (now current) father-in-law decided he had to go to the Kentucky Derby once in his life. That was six years and five trips ago. For me, Saturday was the third time and you know what they say about third times and charms.

First off, the Derby definitely is something everyone (and definitely every sports fan) needs to do once. The thrill of picking a winner, even if it’s just $2 at a time, is one thing. Doing it with thousands of your suddenly-closest friends is quite another.

Not into betting?

The people watching alone is worth the $40 general admission fee. Toss in an overnight monsoon and every patch of mud in sight becomes an instant slip-and-slide, be it intentional or not. Curiously enough, even the “forgettable” actions of a few are easily covered over by the atmosphere.

And while TV will show shot after shot of men in perfectly-tailored suits and women in crisp, clean, vibrant dresses (with matching hats, naturally), the true experience is in the infield. Maybe it’s just because that’s the only Derby experience I know, but I can’t imagine the prim and proper protocol of the grandstand can be much more enjoyable. Sure, you can see all/some/more of the race “live” than you can in the infield, but for the most part, we’re all still watching it on TV screens – and I can do it while not worrying about getting a little mud on my shoes.

Now I don’t make a trip to the Derby to get quit-my-job rich and, in fact, it feels a little silly to celebrate a $2.60 win on a $2 win bet, but hey, it’s winning. And it’s 60 cents more than I had 2 minutes earlier. So I take a modest sum into the weekend (Friday, Kentucky Oaks Day, provides similar thrills with a moderately more “family” atmosphere, even in the infield), chalk it all up as a donation to Churchill Downs, and see how much I can win back.

In my first visit, that wasn’t much. I forget the numbers, but I remember coming back with some half-empty (and soaking wet) pockets, figuring I had at least enjoyed the experience. Last year, I paid a little more attention, picked up a few tips on betting smarter and better (trifectas are only worth it if you box them, usually, and even then, only rarely). So I nickel and dimed (almost literally) my way to winning back about half of what I spent. Several $2 place bets were the winner there, along with an uncanny run by No. 7 horses that seemed to finish in the money in every race on Oaks Day.

This year, there was a new goal. I watched the fabulous-but-now-canceled Animal Planet show “Jockeys” to learn a little bit more of which jocks to look for and paid a bit more attention to the races on the “Derby Trail.” In one of those early races, I watched a horse named “Ice Box” come from out of nowhere to win the Florida Derby. He was going to be my breadwinner at Churchill Downs.

Friday was a toasty day with just enough wind to make you not quite miserable, at least until you realize the sunburn your lack of sunscreen planning is going to make your week itchy and flaky and – yuck. I started off the day on fire, hitting the first three races “across the board” and up about $10. Unfortunately, just as quickly, the running total in my race day program turned into a series of frowny faces. By the time Kent Desormeaux rode his horse past defending Horse of the Year (and winless in 2010) Rachel Alexandra, I was headed to the ATM, ready to up my daily limit.

I dipped a toe back in the black in the next couple races, by which I mean I won about $2 for every $10 spent, but got hammered just enough by Desormeaux to take him out of my plan for the day’s big race, The Kentucky Oaks.

With Blind Luck a 5-6 favorite at post time, I didn’t see any sense betting her straight up with my hard-earned, yet measly, George Washingtons, so I paired her with four horses in an exacta wheel. Then I took Desormeaux’s horse out, because of the aforementioned hammering, and he promptly finished second by a whisker. (Do horses have whiskers? Certainly they’ve got some kind of nose hair, right?) Two more dollars would have won me about $60 on that race.

As an unhappy camper as I could be, I kept my money in my pocket for the day’s final race, but blurted out “8-1-10 trifecta” as the horses loaded into the gate. And wouldn’t you know, that $6 boxed trifecta would have brought home another $60. Instead, I was headed to the hotel with some serious wounds to lick.

Derby Day brought rain. Tons of rain. As I’m sure you all noticed, it was a bit muddy. We skipped the first five races because of all that, opting to stay as dry as we could as long as we could (which wasn’t long) and save a little money for the big race.

It worked.

After some very minor “earnings” in the first five races I bet, it was Derby time. I usually go big with a couple horses, including a $20 win on my boy Ice Box and a total of $30 on Super Saver, mostly because of the amicable, mud-loving, rail-riding jockey, Calvin Borel. Watching him win the 2009 Derby aboard Mine That Bird in the mud and muck at Churchill, and hearing good things about his horse’s prep for the race, it seemed like a good bet.

Boy was I right.

That $30 bet turned into $160+. Then I remembered I had him in the “Oaks/Derby Double,” picking the winner of both of the weekend’s big races for another $56.60.

Then the big one came. With the rainy mess and no clear cut favorite, half my Derby betting turned into blurting out numbers in trifecta and superfecta fashion, trying to turn a buck or two into a house payment. As I sat there knowing I hit two “big” bets, I flipped through my betting tickets like a 9-year-old looks through baseball cards. As if I had found a card of my favorite player, I saw it. Somehow in the flurry of randomness, I had bet $2 on a Super Saver-Ice Box exacta, bringing my total for the race over $350. The trip, including dinner for four on the drive home, was paid for.

Yet despite all that, there was still room for regret. Had Ice Box completed his magnificent dash from near-last to second, my take would have about doubled and covered next year’s “I have to do it once” trip.

Amazing images from NASA – satellite photos of the Iceland volcano that’s giving everyone a headache this week.

I don’t know how or why we went from snow shoveling season almost immediately into lawn mowing season, but I’m not really complaining.

Or at least I wasn’t complaining, until the dandelions took over. Which got me thinking: How do others in central Indiana take on the weeds in your yard? Our house (a very, very, very fine house, I might add) has done a pretty solid, wife-driven job of becoming more “green,” recycling everything from cardboard to glass, reusing milk jugs at the local seed store and, this season, even taking a stab at composting. (It’s not pretty, but I hope it’s working.)

Yet I still reach for the weed killer and fertilizer when the dandelions creep in, then start to move in. Seriously, I think one of them had a suitcase.

For the last two years, I’ve limited the spraying and spreading to the front yard, staying away from where the dogs roam in the back, but this year, I had enough. The sea of yellow took over the matted down brown parts of the lawn, per usual, but when they started to march into soft, thick, fluffy green grass and flower beds, it was time to throw out the rulebook.

But not without some research. I found tons of references to using boiling water, vinegar and other kitchen-type items to attack weeds, but are they really effective? And especially over a solid two-thirds of the yard?

So I gave in and am waiting to see how good of a job the chemical stuff did, but I’m curious – how do you kill the weeds in your yard? Or are you a dandelion fan?

Once I got the dandelion problem (hopefully) under control, I realized there are tons of other things around the house I could probably use input on. And I bet I’m not alone. I hope I can get some of my questions answered here, but also let others get their own questions answered.

I’ll try to make this a semi-regular thing. With any luck, I can get it to grow…like a weed.

Doesn’t it seem like a month ago that Butler finally put away Kansas State and cut down the nets in Salt Lake City? (Technically, it WAS last month, smartypants, but you know what I’m saying.) My less-than-normal work schedule gives me a Wednesday-Thursday weekend, so it really feels like forever ago that our BU alum-filled sports department was going nuts over the Bulldogs’ trip to the Sweet 16. Actually, it was a Ball State grad that was most vocally in disbelief, but if Butler really is carrying the flag for the “mid-majors,” he gets a pass.

So a week has passed since an improbable, but apparently not impossible, three-day stretch of basketball where Syracuse, Kansas State and the hoops world learned all about “The Butler Way.” Count me as a believer now, too.

Not saying I didn’t think they had a good, possibly great, team at Hinkle Fieldhouse, as that much has been evident for the better part of a decade now. But while several co-workers were touting their pick of “Butler to the Final Four,” I brushed it off as home cooking and moved on. But to me, the Bulldogs proved in roughly 48 hours in Salt Lake City that they not only deserve to be in the Final Four, but that they can probably win it all.

In a pair of very similar games, the Bulldogs built a lead with solid shooting, held on with tough defense, then used both to put a couple top 10 caliber teams away. So now, with a week off and a trip home the Bulldogs are rested and have had time to plot the Attack of the Butler Way on a hobbled Michigan State team. And just like the two games before (or heck, why not the first rounder against UTEP that several “experts” gave them no shot to win?), Butler has a chance to play their game and, I think, beat the Spartans – and after that, who knows?

Win or lose, I’ve enjoyed the excitement of the past week-plus. Who knew when I headed south to Roberts Stadium in Evansville in late November to watch the Bulldogs nip the UE Purple Aces, I could have been watching a national champion?

Oh, and for those doubters that think this Butler team is a one-trick pony? You might not want to look at the “Class” column of their roster.