As far as I can tell to this point, Beto O’Rourke lives up to, or down to, that old Texas saying:

“He’s all hat and no cattle.”

Oh, he’s young and enthusiastic and handsome and well-spoken and perhaps he has some ideas, but nothing that’s grabbed me. I’m no huge fan of Elizabeth Warren but at least she’s putting out some plans that appear to be aimed at helping people.

• I’ve been watching reruns of the old lawyer show “Boston Legal” and the acting is terrific. Candace Bergen was playing the kind of lawyer you can actually like. William Shatner was playing wildly against his Capt. Kirk character and seemed to be having a great time.

And James Spader’s Alan Shore? Just do this: Go to YouTube and type in “Alan Shore at the Supreme Court” and watch 10 minutes of the kind of legal wrangling I’d pay to see. Great stuff.

• Still not bringing reusable bags to the supermarket? Still lugging your groceries home in plastic? Well, read this from The Guardian:

“Graphic autopsy images have revealed the terrible toll that plastic waste took on a young whale found dead in the Philippines.

“The juvenile Cuvier’s beaked whale died of ‘gastric shock’ after swallowing 88lb (40kg) of plastic bags, according to marine biologists at the D’Bone Collector Museum, a natural history institution in Davao City in the Philippines.”

You might not care. What’s a whale to you? You don’t eat blubber. Ah, perhaps not, but whales aren’t the only fish that eat the plastic that ends up in the ocean — perhaps some of it from the bags you used. Betcha tuna eat them, too, and guess what: If they do, and you eat tuna and you get a plastic-eating tuna in a can, you’re eating plastic, too.

Next time you bring home a plastic bag from the store, try eating it. Yummy? Get used to it. The more plastic we use, the more is eaten by fish, the more you eat. Ummmmmmm, good.

• Now that spring is here, are we finally past the “Doomsday is ‘a’comin’ “television snow reports?

“Tomorrow’s weather tonight: Prepare to die. We’re expecting snow. Snow equals bad things happening to you. Prepare yourself. We’re expecting at least six inches in southern New Hampshire, coating your driveway, coating the roads, and with more to come, soon it will be above the roof of your house and you won’t be able to get out. So race to the supermarket and stock up on everything before your neighbors do. Don’t worry about them. Run ’em off the road if you have to, but get to that market first. Do it. Doom’s a’comin’. This is Chad Overwrought with tomorrow’s weather tonight. Now, over to Biff Schmuck with sports.”

• Hello? Milford police? Check out Elm Street around Hayward’s Ice Cream around 8 a.m. I was driving west the other day and spotted heading east a woman in a large white SUV driving and talking on a hand-held phone and right behind her, another woman in another large white SUV doing the same thing.

Perhaps they were talking to one another. Exciting. But they were, you know, breaking the law.

Doesn’t anybody enforce this law? No, of course there were no officers driving behind me who could have seen this SUV-a-thon and those are the breaks but we just don’t hear about any busts anymore.

So, Elm Street, heading toward Milford, 8 a.m.-ish.

• I leave the house when it’s dark, usually between 4:30 and 5 in the morning and, being paranoid, I assume something is out there waiting to do me irreparable harm, possibly Dracula or someone of that ilk. Recently, though, reality has intruded in the form of coyote tracks around our house, right under the windows, in the snow, clear coyote tracks. So now I assume coyotes with rabid intentions.

As I put my stuff into the car, I watch over my shoulder, expecting them to show up in the garage where I can admire their fangs. So far, no. I’m not sure what they’re waiting for. If you don’t hear from me …

• And then there are the turkeys. Twice a day, this group of turkeys comes trundling out of the woods across the street, crosses the road and walks, single file, down our side driveway and into the back yard where they scavenge around the pond. Then they cross the pond into our woods, and disappear.

They do this in the morning and then in the evening but I don’t know how they get back into the woods on the other side of the road.

My wife posits that it could be two groups of turkeys, one in the morning and one in the evening. But that doesn’t work. Then both groups would have to get back into the woods on the other side of the road unless you assume an endless supply of groups of turkeys waiting in the woods across the street to come into our yard and scavenge around the pond and then never go back across the road into the woods.

I vote for one group twice a day, like medicine that doesn’t taste so bad.

But how do the turkeys recross the road to get to the other side?

• My new fervent wish: That Bob Kraft (Mr. Kraft to the kisser-uppers), Lori Laughlin, and Felicity Huffman either go to jail (Kraft for his alleged involvement in a prostitution sting where he … the two women for the college admissions scandal in which they tacitly admit they think their children are too stupid to get into school on their own) but if there’s no jail, well, then, very public community service.

Kraft, Laughlin, Huffman in bright prison orange picking up litter along the road.

“Honk if you liked ‘Full House’.”