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The Series-I, inflation-adjusted savings bonds issued by the Treasury are something every investor  should consider. These vehicles are one of the easiest ways to safeguard your assets against inflation erosion. That's because their yields rise or fall every six months with inflation. In the current environment, price pressures appear to be building.

But I wouldn't hurry out and buy I-bonds now, despite an annualized yield of 4.84 percent over the next six months that compares favorably to yields on other ultrasafe instruments.

What's wrong with I-bonds at the moment? In short: no fixed return.

Here's what I mean: I-bond yields are based on two components. A fixed return that you get for the life of the bond (they  bear interest for  30 years) and a variable return that resets every six months to reflect inflation changes.

If you buy bonds over the next six months, you won't get any fixed return for the  next 30 years. The Treasury has just cut that to zero, meaning you're getting nothing in excess of the inflation component. In the past, the Treasury has  offered fixed returns above inflation, typically in the range of 1 to 2 percent.

All this sounds complicated, I realize. But an ultimate goal  for most investors  is earning a long-term return above the inflation rate. That's the only way to boost your assets in real terms.

The Treasury's current pricing scheme on I-bonds doesn't allow for that. Today's buyers will earn a yield that equates to inflation and nothing more. Hopefully, the Treasury will become more generous come Nov. 1, when it adjusts I-bond yields and can add a fixed return for new investors if  it chooses.

The city reimbursed developers more than $750,000 to renovate the tired and half-deserted Chandler Mercado shopping center at Warner Road and Arizona Avenue. The first big payoff? A swanky PGA Tour Superstore selling golf equipment with indoor putting and tennis areas moved in.

The city cheered, and the store has drawn droves of new people to the Mercado.

Next up? A new restaurant? Specialty retailer? Nope … a thrift store run by St. Vincent de Paul.

I’m just guessing here, but something tells me that wasn’t the tenant category the city had in mind when it subsidized the renovations — or the PGA store expected to be its new neighbor. Officials with PGA declined to comment.

I’m not trying to bash the good folks at St. Vincent de Paul. They do vital work in the community, paid for in large part by the money they make via their thrift stores. I applaud their commitment to help those in need and encourage Chandler residents to donate and patronize the nonprofit.

But if the goal of using taxpayer dollars was to reinvent a shopping center in an older part of the city, change its image and drive change, this probably isn’t going to do it.

This morning, Tim Jeffries will get up, go into the den of his Scottsdale home and return once again to a remote hillside in the Colorado Rockies. From there, he'll climb 100 yards to a particular piece of sacred ground.

In a way he hasn't left that mountainside in 26 years. It's the source of his sorrow and his inspiration, the place where his brother fought and fought and fought and only then, died.

“He was so filled with goodness and love and his final day, in his final hours, he was heroic because he stood up for himself and he fought for his life and he tried to live and I'm so proud of him,” Jeffries told me this week. “And if he can be that strong, not just for himself but for others -- because he was trying to live not just for himself but for his family -- I certainly can be strong, not just for my family but for others.”

Michael Jeffries was Tim's big brother and best friend. Michael was never what you would have considered a standout. He wasn't talented in sports or gifted academically or popular. It was left to his little brother to be those things and yet he was exceptional, too, in his own way. Even as he struggled to find his way, he was sweet and loving and genuinely happy with every accolade that came to his brother. Even as he drifted, he was thrilled when his brother became the first in their family to go to college.

When Tim left their home in Sacramento in 1981 to attend Santa Clara College, Michael headed to Colorado Springs, to begin again.

Life wasn't much different there, however, and Michael, at 22, wound up living on the streets, an easy mark given his gentle spirit. On Nov. 3, 1981, he was kidnapped, beaten and driven to a hillside several hours west of town where, blindfolded and handcuffed, he was forced to climb 100 yards. No one knows how long he fought off his attackers but one man alone can only stand for so long. He was stabbed 65 times and finally, when he would not die, his skull was crushed beneath a killer's bloody boot.

The murderers were eventually caught, thanks to an informant. One hung himself in jail. The other got a plea deal -- life in prison with no release for at least 20 years – because he'd had a few beers that day and that was evidently considered a “mitigating” circumstance.

For 26 years, Tim has grieved. It's not something you ever get over, he says, and even if you could, the killer won't let you. Twice now the family has had to fight to keep Michael's killer behind bars. Next year, they will do it again.

Meanwhile, Tim says it's time to put his private grief to public good. He's mounting a campaign to bar those convicted of first-degree murder in Arizona from ever being set free. Currently, a life sentence can mean just 25 years.

Sen. Jim Waring, R-Phoenix, agreed to sponsor Tim's “life means life” bill. It breezed through the Senate, 28-1, but was held by House Judiciary Chairman Eddie Farnsworth, R-Gilbert.

Farnsworth points out that judges already have the option of imposing natural life. He says 25 years is a long time and sufficient punishment for some, especially for those convicted under the state’s felony-murder rule, the ones who didn't actually pull the trigger.

 “This,” Farnsworth said, “takes away all options and says everybody under every circumstance is going to be put away forever.”

Sort of like victims' families, Tim would say.

On Monday, Waring hopes to revive Tim's proposal, attaching it to HB 2389 and asking the Senate to pass it again.

Tim, meanwhile, continues his life sentence.

A few months ago, Michael's killer began his third bid for parole, announcing that he'd found Jesus (coincidentally for the third time), writing a letter of apology as part of a “restorative justice” program and asking that it be sent to the family.

A victim’s advocate in Colorado called and asked if he’d accept the letter.

 “I'm picturing him writing this letter,” Tim said, “and it's tough for me to get beyond, this is the hand he used to stab my brother.”

Tim hasn't yet given permission for the letter to be sent. Today, on what would have been Michael's 49th birthday, he will celebrate in the usual fashion. He’ll close his eyes and return to the remote hillside where his brother left this Earth, remembering once again how he fought and fought and fought. Then he'll notify the state of Colorado to go ahead and mail the letter.

 But he won't open it until Nov. 3, the anniversary of the day his brother died.

(Column published May 10, 2008.)

No need for comment from me.  This editorial, from the West Valley View, says it all.

Unfortunately, the sheriff's PR people have forgotten who they're suppposed to be working for. It's surprising and disappointing and, of course, expensive.

Don't forget who picks up the tab for these sheriff's office snits.

For the most part, Terry Goddard hasn't tried to push the legal envelope the way some other Democratic attorneys general are prone to do.

When Goddard wants to push a political or policy point, such as over gas prices, he tends to mount a soapbox rather than file questionable lawsuits.

So, a recent case against movie theaters was a departure from his norm. Goddard sued to push the legal envelope about what theaters have to do to accommodate the hearing and sight impaired. He wanted a judge to order the theaters to offer more captioned movie times and provide "description narration" for the seeing impaired.

Once obstacles to attendance generally are removed, the last thing a federal judge should be doing is determining how many of such opportunities are sufficient. And fortunately, federal judge Roslyn Silver saw it that way as well. She found for the theaters.

Unfortunately, rather than taking no for an answer to his overreach, Goddard's office is appealing.

Hillary Clinton trudges on. But the Democratic primary is over: Barack Obama will be the nominee.

For more detail on the NFL's drug-testing methods than you will ever want, check out this blog from Washington tight end Chris Cooley. Let's just say, the league leaves nothing to chance when it's collection time.