MAYBE I watch too much “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation” that I find our own police investigators funny, to be generous with my comments. The more I watch this monster hit of a television series, the more I wish I lived in Miami, New York, or Las Vegas where forensic experts solve crimes in less time than it takes for your evening coffee to get cold.

In this show, everything in the crime scene is a valuable piece of evidence. Every particle of dust, the way the furniture has been moved, the lipstick stain on an empty cup, the way the wind blows to the east, they all say something about the guilty one. Even a burp smells of somebody’s DNA.

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THE first thing I do upon waking up is turn on the AM radio and listen to the news.

It’s a habit I acquired from my years as reporter covering the police beat. Although I hate it because it interrupts my sleep, it gives me the heads up on what’s the day’s news on a daily basis.

The problem is that at six in the morning, I’m asleep and awake at the same time. This means that sometimes I interpret what I’m hearing on the radio as continuation of an interrupted dream, or nightmare, depending on the news.

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Last weekend, I and the wife had an amazing encounter with modern prenatal technology – the 3D Ultrasound. Yeah, I know, 3D ultrasound is ancient technology. It is 30 years old.  For all I care, it could have been invented by obstetrician-gynecologist dinosaurs to determine the sex of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. But when it’s your baby right there being scheduled for the first photo op of his entire amniotic life ever, all technology in the world becomes modern and high tech, and beautiful.

So we decided to have this 3D thing for the same reason as those of other expectant parents: to determine if we’re not expecting a dinosaur. No, just kidding. But yeah, we wanted to take advantage of this technology that would tell us if there was nothing wrong with the baby inside. We would count the fingers and the toes and examine the nose, etc. Oh, it’s grandpa’s nose. No, it’s lola’s nose. Stuff like that. And on a deeply personal note, I wanted to know if the baby was not sucking at a bottle of beer instead of his thumb.

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