If you ever wonder what leads to some of my columns, well, it's sometimes a pretty strange tale. In this case, it starts with an armadillo. You know, those little mammals with armored shells? They have bad tempers and sharp claws, and when I lived in the Arizona desert, I learned they have a worse habit: when frightened, they jump straight up while rolling into a ball. If you startle one on an empty road, you stand a good chance of having a really angry bowling ball come through your windshield.