I know that the political ads that are bombarding us now, just like the political ads that bombarded us in the past, play pretty fast and loose with the truth. Whatever in the hell the truth is. See Henry Fonda's Tom Joad in The Grapes of Wrath.
I remember the Wellstone ad spot from a campaign long ago which went something like, "The sky isn't really blue; it's green. The sky isn't really bue; it's green. The sky isn't really blue; it's green." and attributed it to the Boschwitz campaign. You know where this is headed. Repeat the same lie enough times and it becomes the truth. Have we ever been reminded of that more strongly than during the last few weeks of the countdown to Election Tuesday?
Romney erases 16 point gender gap. We're America's women and that's why we're voting for Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan. Barack Obama is a (choose one or all) Muslim/atheist/anti-American/Kenyan/tool of the union thugs/job destroyer/new world orderer. (should that last one have ben capitalized?) Jeep is shipping American jobs to China. Barack Obama forced the closing of the Janesville Chrysler plant. Maybe the economy's improved a little but we could have done better. "Big spending" Jim Graves who's been outspent 12-1 by the Bachmann campaign. Gay marriage threatens the sanctity of marriage. Voter ID protects our voting rights. Nate Silver is a limp-wristed little (choose your own slur). Creeping socialsim is robbing America's will to excel. All of which plays well to the racists and misogynists and bigots and morons. The sky isn't really blue; it's green.
I think I also know that this is a game that totalitarians and demagogues play. I'm reluctant to draw too many historical parallels but there's history out there that provides food for thought. I don't recall any election where the truth has been so willfully abandoned for lies, damned lies and partisan lies. I don't want to believe that the Republican power brokers and their big money financiers will stop at nothing (up to and including rigging voting machines) to take this country into some grey politico-theocracy where big government exists only when it comes to telling people who they can hang out with, what they can read, where they can worship, whether or not they can vote. Ya gotta wonder though.
Anyone who's reading this is already a member of the choir that I'm likely preaching to. But get out there and vote. Drag your friends and family along and convince those who say it doesn't matter that it goddamn well does too matter. The two sides' visions as to where this country should go can't be any more different. Get out there and vote. And don't believe that the sky isn't really blue. It's damn well not green.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
if only we had pumpkins,...
...for sure there'd've been frost on 'em this morning. (love those double contractions.) 28ยบ out there according to TV's weather brain trust and the light glaze of white on the back deck as well as the sadly wilted basil plants didn't contradict that. I'm patting myself on the back for not having gone onto the deck to risk ending up on my tail end with another recurrence of a ruptured quad muscle. Perhaps age is imparting wisdom.
Nah, I still do plenty of god-awful dumb stuff worthy of someone 45 years younger than me. Proof of that is that I can't even remember any of the dumb stuff I've done recently to list here. It's just become second nature for me; I can no longer distinguish between the spectacularly stupid and the mundane.. Sort of like my proposed tag line for the insultingly ludicrous Michele Bachmann commercials (read: lies) that are running nonstop on every network and radio station. "I'm Michele Bachmann and I've approved these paranoid delusions because they seem real to me." I've got to get that copyrighted.
Yeah, summer's probably over and that's bad. But at least the colder weather and earlier sunsets suggest that this painfully abrasive political campaign season is in sight of being over. That can't come soon enough. The spots from the purportedly smart ad guys on the red side of the ballot do nothing for me other than to elevate my blood pressure. That's maybe cheaper than a third cup of coffee in the morning but I suspect that it's taking a toll on my mental health and, consequently, those in contact with me. Poor Miz Susan.
I listened to the first half of the debate until the stream from MSNBC froze up and then went upstairs to watch. That was all pretty unsatisfying. I hate the way that Mutt is being credited for a resurgence in his campaign based on a strong showing on Tuesday night. I think that he comes off as a rude, smirking blowhard but I would think that. Wonder how many cups of coffee he threw back on Tuesday to come out as hyper as he was. I met one of the neighbors in the street on Wednesday morning and we both had the same reaction. The debate and its deconstruction by the pundits afterwards left us badly unsettled. Neither one of us was all that comfortable with Mitt being credited for lies and bullshit and condescension based solely on having delivered them with panache.
I don't know what to think of the Dems' spin on the President's perceived poor showing as the product of being dumbstruck at what a blatant liar and smug snake-oil salesman the other guy is. What's this? Mitt's a pathetic flip-flopper who talks out of only two sides of his mouth because that's all he has? I'm shocked, shocked I tell you. This guy would crawl into bed with anybody to get elected. Look at who he's already crawled into bed with (I know, bad syntax.). Some of the most heinous cockroaches in the history of American politics: Mitch McConnell, John Boehner, Michele Bachmann, Paul Ryan, Rick Santorum. These are politicians who are happy to see American citizens fail as a tool to deny Barack Obama a second term. I'm looking forward to the Thursday debate between the Veep candidates if only to see if Biden gives Paul Ryan and his lies (so far, even more blatant than Romney's) the same free pass.
How long are the Republicans going to be allowed to call an affordable health care measure "Obamacare" with it's palpable schoolyard, racist overtones? How long are the Republicans going to be allowed to accuse the Dems of dismantling Medicare for seniors? How long are the Republicans going to be allowed to blame the Dems for the Wall Street and auto industry bailouts and the stimulus program as bad things when, in fact, those measures pulled this country back from the brink of another Great Depression? How long are the Republicans going to be allowed to pin the costs of two wars (entered into by their guy) on Obama? How long are they going to be allowed to spin good economic news as bad economic news? Oh yeah, I forgot, these are the same cockroaches who are happy to see American citizens fail as an acceptable cost to denying Barack Obama another term in the White House. And they might get away with it. Thank heavens that Florida has cleaned up some of its more easily recognizable disenfranchisement tools since 2000.
We'll have at least one night of respite from the obscene election wars before Election Day. Halloween comes less than a week before the polls open on November 6th. Whatever the fright factor Halloween might normally bring to your front door, that's gonna be pretty tame in comparison to the horror show that's being played out against the truth by the millionaires' and corporate America's toadies and lickspittles of the GOP.
And by the way, if you're one of those people who contend that there's not really much difference between the Republicans and the Democrats and that your vote for a third-party candidate is a viable option then consider Florida 2000 and Ralph Nader's effect on this country's next 12 years. And who knows how many more down the road?
Nah, I still do plenty of god-awful dumb stuff worthy of someone 45 years younger than me. Proof of that is that I can't even remember any of the dumb stuff I've done recently to list here. It's just become second nature for me; I can no longer distinguish between the spectacularly stupid and the mundane.. Sort of like my proposed tag line for the insultingly ludicrous Michele Bachmann commercials (read: lies) that are running nonstop on every network and radio station. "I'm Michele Bachmann and I've approved these paranoid delusions because they seem real to me." I've got to get that copyrighted.
Yeah, summer's probably over and that's bad. But at least the colder weather and earlier sunsets suggest that this painfully abrasive political campaign season is in sight of being over. That can't come soon enough. The spots from the purportedly smart ad guys on the red side of the ballot do nothing for me other than to elevate my blood pressure. That's maybe cheaper than a third cup of coffee in the morning but I suspect that it's taking a toll on my mental health and, consequently, those in contact with me. Poor Miz Susan.
I listened to the first half of the debate until the stream from MSNBC froze up and then went upstairs to watch. That was all pretty unsatisfying. I hate the way that Mutt is being credited for a resurgence in his campaign based on a strong showing on Tuesday night. I think that he comes off as a rude, smirking blowhard but I would think that. Wonder how many cups of coffee he threw back on Tuesday to come out as hyper as he was. I met one of the neighbors in the street on Wednesday morning and we both had the same reaction. The debate and its deconstruction by the pundits afterwards left us badly unsettled. Neither one of us was all that comfortable with Mitt being credited for lies and bullshit and condescension based solely on having delivered them with panache.
I don't know what to think of the Dems' spin on the President's perceived poor showing as the product of being dumbstruck at what a blatant liar and smug snake-oil salesman the other guy is. What's this? Mitt's a pathetic flip-flopper who talks out of only two sides of his mouth because that's all he has? I'm shocked, shocked I tell you. This guy would crawl into bed with anybody to get elected. Look at who he's already crawled into bed with (I know, bad syntax.). Some of the most heinous cockroaches in the history of American politics: Mitch McConnell, John Boehner, Michele Bachmann, Paul Ryan, Rick Santorum. These are politicians who are happy to see American citizens fail as a tool to deny Barack Obama a second term. I'm looking forward to the Thursday debate between the Veep candidates if only to see if Biden gives Paul Ryan and his lies (so far, even more blatant than Romney's) the same free pass.
How long are the Republicans going to be allowed to call an affordable health care measure "Obamacare" with it's palpable schoolyard, racist overtones? How long are the Republicans going to be allowed to accuse the Dems of dismantling Medicare for seniors? How long are the Republicans going to be allowed to blame the Dems for the Wall Street and auto industry bailouts and the stimulus program as bad things when, in fact, those measures pulled this country back from the brink of another Great Depression? How long are the Republicans going to be allowed to pin the costs of two wars (entered into by their guy) on Obama? How long are they going to be allowed to spin good economic news as bad economic news? Oh yeah, I forgot, these are the same cockroaches who are happy to see American citizens fail as an acceptable cost to denying Barack Obama another term in the White House. And they might get away with it. Thank heavens that Florida has cleaned up some of its more easily recognizable disenfranchisement tools since 2000.
We'll have at least one night of respite from the obscene election wars before Election Day. Halloween comes less than a week before the polls open on November 6th. Whatever the fright factor Halloween might normally bring to your front door, that's gonna be pretty tame in comparison to the horror show that's being played out against the truth by the millionaires' and corporate America's toadies and lickspittles of the GOP.
And by the way, if you're one of those people who contend that there's not really much difference between the Republicans and the Democrats and that your vote for a third-party candidate is a viable option then consider Florida 2000 and Ralph Nader's effect on this country's next 12 years. And who knows how many more down the road?
Sunday, September 2, 2012
the week in review
It felt like an active news week, plenty going on in the country and the world at large. Somewhere behind Joe Mauer's name getting floated out onto baseball's trade waiver list and my first sighting of Schell's Oktoberfest (yes, of course I bought a 12-pack and I'd have bought more if I hadn't had to get down on my hands and knees to fish the last one out of the back of the cooler at BigTop. do you have any idea of how vulnerable you can feel when you're down on your hands and knees at the BigTop in the Midway?)...but I digress...somewhere behind baseball and beer came big news out of the RNC down in Tampa. I'd have been there too but for having had to help push close to a million and a half dollars' worth of textbooks out the door at EnHenn. That and the fact that the GOP brass didn't send me an invite. Word must be getting around.
The week's turned into sort of a blur, twelve-hour work days having that effect on me. But I do have some memories of the goings-on in Tampa. I can't really say whether those come from nighttime channel surfing for something better to watch or from the recaps on The Today Show the following mornings. But what I saw obviously struck some chords for me. And I know that it did for you, too.
It must have been Tuesday night when I saw Ann Romney in real time. The commentators (aka the evil liberal media types except for Fox Newsers) had suggested that it would be her job to humanize the Mittster. She did a helluva job. It really hit home when she told us that after traveling the width and breadth of the land, she'd really come to feel like she knew a lot of us guys. Click of the remote. Oh well, I'd been hoping to get a chance to catch that Valerie Bertinelli Bikini Body infomercial. Here was my chance.
I learned the next morning that I should have tuned in to the Republicans earlier or hung around longer, Valerie Bertinelli's bikini notwithstanding. My favorite GOP governor, Chris Christie of New Jersey, also fired up the crowd though I don't know if that came before or after Mrs. Romney. I don't know what it was that he said but I couldn't help but imagining myself goin' out eatin' with Chris and my favorite Minnesota right-winger, former state GOP chair Tony Sutton. We could start out with a half a dozen happy hours, hit the Asian buffets up and down University Avenue and close out the night at Old Country. Or, if we did it on a Friday night, maybe one of the all-you-can-eat fish fries. The three of us would strike terror into the heart of any economy-minded restaurateur.
I don't know exactly what it was that Governor Christie told the American viewing public. My loss, I'm sure. But at least one of those evil, biased media commentators was peddling the line that Christie would be speaking to dispel idle gossip that the Guv had voiced doubt that Romney would be able to beat Obamma in November. As if!! If Romney can't do it then who can? Not Bachmann, not Santorum, not Perry, not Paul, not Newt, not T-Paw. Mitt's the one. Maybe Pat Buchanan or Sarah Palin but, for sure, Mitt. Paul Ryan, of course, but that'll be in eight years. C'mon, Republicans wouldn't have been so stupid as to pick a candidate who can't win. Say what you will, I think Chris Christie is no dummy. Therefore, he couldn't have possibly let such a vile slander pass his lips.
I caught a little of Paul Ryan's shtick on Wednesday night. It might as well have been Notable Midwest Republicans Week in Tampa. Not only were we treated to Ryan but his fellow Badger homey Scott Walker, on Tuesday, and Minnesota's favorite son Tim Pawlenty, on Wednesday, got shots in the spotlight of the main stage lectern. There were news reports that Walker teared up during Ryan's speech. If he did, it was probably from being grief-stricken that the granddaddy of all Wisconsin plain-talking patriots, Senator Joe McCarthy, couldn't have been on hand to see the local boys make good. I'll bet old Joe was beaming down from above.
And how could Minnesotans have seen Tim Pawlenty's standup routine without longing for for the good old days of his residency on Summit Avenue. Oh yeah, he makes those election fraud, marriage freedom, union backing Democrats squirm. What were we thinking? We could have torn the state Constitution to shreds and installed him on the throne as Governor for life. Gee whiz.
And speaking of Minnesota notables, it was great to see Michele Bachmann's beaming mug when the cameras zoomed in on the state's delegation reporting in from convention floor. Doesn't she remind you of the attention seeker from high school who managed to get his or her face into half of the photos in the organizations section of the yearbook? And with the same vacuous smile in every photo.
Personally, I view Clint Eastwood's Thursday appearance as a loving tribute to the two terms of the Reagan Presidency. Clint talking to an empty chair was a fitting nod to the last few years of the Great Communicator's time at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Gosh, I'd love to see the tapes of him looking for the corners in the Oval Office.
I'll plead guilty (again) to not watching much of our presumptive President-elect's speech. I hear that he's got it all figured out. None of us are any better off than we were four years ago so we're going to roust that backsliding Obamma out of office. Right. We're going to ignore how the country got into all this trouble in the first place. We're going to throw money at the fat cat corporate sponsors and offshore money havens of the Republican Party, and, by God, it's gonna trickle down. We're going to give credit where credit is due to John Boehner (and Paul Ryan) and my all-time third favorite Kentuckian (behind Abe Lincoln and Jim Varney) Mitch McConnell for blocking, obstructing, delaying, log-jamming, double talking and generally slowing the democratic progress to a crawl to render Obamma ineffective. And then blaming the President for being responsible for the gridlock.
I may not have been able to pay much attention to Tampa but I'm gonna be sure to find a spot at the Inaugural Ball in January of 2013. Oh hell, probably not. I'll just be finishing up another textbook rush in Brooklyn Park and won't be able to go. But maybe, just maybe, Scott Walker's influence will jump the St.Croix River and I will, along with all my fellow public employee union members, get fired for being a lazy, unproductive, benefit sucking, union thug slacker. Oh yeah. Then I'd be able to let my deluxe union pension fund a trip to DC or anywhere else I wanna go.
Remember, corporations are people, too. The Supreme Court just affirmed that. And at the same time, affirmed the rights of corporations to buy elections. Is this a great country or what?
The week's turned into sort of a blur, twelve-hour work days having that effect on me. But I do have some memories of the goings-on in Tampa. I can't really say whether those come from nighttime channel surfing for something better to watch or from the recaps on The Today Show the following mornings. But what I saw obviously struck some chords for me. And I know that it did for you, too.
It must have been Tuesday night when I saw Ann Romney in real time. The commentators (aka the evil liberal media types except for Fox Newsers) had suggested that it would be her job to humanize the Mittster. She did a helluva job. It really hit home when she told us that after traveling the width and breadth of the land, she'd really come to feel like she knew a lot of us guys. Click of the remote. Oh well, I'd been hoping to get a chance to catch that Valerie Bertinelli Bikini Body infomercial. Here was my chance.
I learned the next morning that I should have tuned in to the Republicans earlier or hung around longer, Valerie Bertinelli's bikini notwithstanding. My favorite GOP governor, Chris Christie of New Jersey, also fired up the crowd though I don't know if that came before or after Mrs. Romney. I don't know what it was that he said but I couldn't help but imagining myself goin' out eatin' with Chris and my favorite Minnesota right-winger, former state GOP chair Tony Sutton. We could start out with a half a dozen happy hours, hit the Asian buffets up and down University Avenue and close out the night at Old Country. Or, if we did it on a Friday night, maybe one of the all-you-can-eat fish fries. The three of us would strike terror into the heart of any economy-minded restaurateur.
I don't know exactly what it was that Governor Christie told the American viewing public. My loss, I'm sure. But at least one of those evil, biased media commentators was peddling the line that Christie would be speaking to dispel idle gossip that the Guv had voiced doubt that Romney would be able to beat Obamma in November. As if!! If Romney can't do it then who can? Not Bachmann, not Santorum, not Perry, not Paul, not Newt, not T-Paw. Mitt's the one. Maybe Pat Buchanan or Sarah Palin but, for sure, Mitt. Paul Ryan, of course, but that'll be in eight years. C'mon, Republicans wouldn't have been so stupid as to pick a candidate who can't win. Say what you will, I think Chris Christie is no dummy. Therefore, he couldn't have possibly let such a vile slander pass his lips.
I caught a little of Paul Ryan's shtick on Wednesday night. It might as well have been Notable Midwest Republicans Week in Tampa. Not only were we treated to Ryan but his fellow Badger homey Scott Walker, on Tuesday, and Minnesota's favorite son Tim Pawlenty, on Wednesday, got shots in the spotlight of the main stage lectern. There were news reports that Walker teared up during Ryan's speech. If he did, it was probably from being grief-stricken that the granddaddy of all Wisconsin plain-talking patriots, Senator Joe McCarthy, couldn't have been on hand to see the local boys make good. I'll bet old Joe was beaming down from above.
And how could Minnesotans have seen Tim Pawlenty's standup routine without longing for for the good old days of his residency on Summit Avenue. Oh yeah, he makes those election fraud, marriage freedom, union backing Democrats squirm. What were we thinking? We could have torn the state Constitution to shreds and installed him on the throne as Governor for life. Gee whiz.
And speaking of Minnesota notables, it was great to see Michele Bachmann's beaming mug when the cameras zoomed in on the state's delegation reporting in from convention floor. Doesn't she remind you of the attention seeker from high school who managed to get his or her face into half of the photos in the organizations section of the yearbook? And with the same vacuous smile in every photo.
Personally, I view Clint Eastwood's Thursday appearance as a loving tribute to the two terms of the Reagan Presidency. Clint talking to an empty chair was a fitting nod to the last few years of the Great Communicator's time at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Gosh, I'd love to see the tapes of him looking for the corners in the Oval Office.
I'll plead guilty (again) to not watching much of our presumptive President-elect's speech. I hear that he's got it all figured out. None of us are any better off than we were four years ago so we're going to roust that backsliding Obamma out of office. Right. We're going to ignore how the country got into all this trouble in the first place. We're going to throw money at the fat cat corporate sponsors and offshore money havens of the Republican Party, and, by God, it's gonna trickle down. We're going to give credit where credit is due to John Boehner (and Paul Ryan) and my all-time third favorite Kentuckian (behind Abe Lincoln and Jim Varney) Mitch McConnell for blocking, obstructing, delaying, log-jamming, double talking and generally slowing the democratic progress to a crawl to render Obamma ineffective. And then blaming the President for being responsible for the gridlock.
I may not have been able to pay much attention to Tampa but I'm gonna be sure to find a spot at the Inaugural Ball in January of 2013. Oh hell, probably not. I'll just be finishing up another textbook rush in Brooklyn Park and won't be able to go. But maybe, just maybe, Scott Walker's influence will jump the St.Croix River and I will, along with all my fellow public employee union members, get fired for being a lazy, unproductive, benefit sucking, union thug slacker. Oh yeah. Then I'd be able to let my deluxe union pension fund a trip to DC or anywhere else I wanna go.
Remember, corporations are people, too. The Supreme Court just affirmed that. And at the same time, affirmed the rights of corporations to buy elections. Is this a great country or what?
Saturday, August 11, 2012
what the hey?!? paul who?
I've gotta admit that I understand how alot of political insiders would have had me tabbed as a long shot. A long shot, that is, to get the call from presumptive President-Elect Mitt Romney to fill the #2 spot on the GOP side of the November ballot. But I'll tell you, it still hurt like hell to wake up this morning and see Paul Ryan's name smeared all over the Firefox homepage. And then, as if to salt the wound, to have NBC cut away from its coverage of my beloved Olympics (USA! USA!) to go live to Virginia for Mitt's anointing of the soon-to-be Vice President. And in the long shadows of the battleship Wisconsin's big 16" guns, no less. Talk about dragging a possibly unconsulted and unwilling Navy into the political limelight. Mission accomplished!
Miz Susan called me on the phone from upstairs (how pathetic has our life gotten?) to ask where in the hell her coffee and the newspaper were and the floodgates opened. I cried like a baby. I'd really counted on the Veep job to drag us up out of the financial mire that we've spent ourselves into. I've heard that the Executive Branch's second fiddle job is a pretty decent paying gig. And the meal money alone on the campaign trail would have likely been enough to keep up with the mortgage payments here at the Laurel Avenue estate. There might have even been a little side income in renting out a basement suite at One Observatory Circle to Norm Coleman for when he blows through town. Oh well.
I didn't even have the consolation of finding out that my Minnesota homeboy Tim "T-Paw" Pawlenty was going to be moving to Washington. For sure I'd have been able to count on him for a lucrative and low effort federal job. I suppose that Tim could still land the Labor seat on the cabinet (being's how he's always been a friend to labor); that or Education (ditto the friend thing above to education). There might still be some beltline swag out there for me.
But for God's sake. Paul Ryan?!? He's a young T-Paw on stimulants, full of a cloying phony charm and smarm and condescension. I used to think that Pawlenty led the world in that stuff but that was before I started to see Paul Ryan making stops on the Sunday morning politico talk show circuit. Ryan makes Pawlenty seem genuine. And that takes some doing.
Well, Senator Joe McCarthy and Governor Scott Walker have got to be doing some kind of victory dances right about now. Joe in his grave and Scott in the Governor's mansion in Madison, in between boning up on GED sample test questions. Makes a guy proud to have Wisconsin as a next door neighbor.
It is possible that one other Minnesotan will pick up some part time work in the wake of the addition of Ryan to the GOP slate. I'm thinking that with a little bit of a transplanted widow's peak to his hairline, Chip Cravaack of the Eighth Congressional District might just make a damn convincing stunt double for Paul Ryan. Hey, think about it.
Is this a helluva country or what?
Miz Susan called me on the phone from upstairs (how pathetic has our life gotten?) to ask where in the hell her coffee and the newspaper were and the floodgates opened. I cried like a baby. I'd really counted on the Veep job to drag us up out of the financial mire that we've spent ourselves into. I've heard that the Executive Branch's second fiddle job is a pretty decent paying gig. And the meal money alone on the campaign trail would have likely been enough to keep up with the mortgage payments here at the Laurel Avenue estate. There might have even been a little side income in renting out a basement suite at One Observatory Circle to Norm Coleman for when he blows through town. Oh well.
I didn't even have the consolation of finding out that my Minnesota homeboy Tim "T-Paw" Pawlenty was going to be moving to Washington. For sure I'd have been able to count on him for a lucrative and low effort federal job. I suppose that Tim could still land the Labor seat on the cabinet (being's how he's always been a friend to labor); that or Education (ditto the friend thing above to education). There might still be some beltline swag out there for me.
But for God's sake. Paul Ryan?!? He's a young T-Paw on stimulants, full of a cloying phony charm and smarm and condescension. I used to think that Pawlenty led the world in that stuff but that was before I started to see Paul Ryan making stops on the Sunday morning politico talk show circuit. Ryan makes Pawlenty seem genuine. And that takes some doing.
Well, Senator Joe McCarthy and Governor Scott Walker have got to be doing some kind of victory dances right about now. Joe in his grave and Scott in the Governor's mansion in Madison, in between boning up on GED sample test questions. Makes a guy proud to have Wisconsin as a next door neighbor.
It is possible that one other Minnesotan will pick up some part time work in the wake of the addition of Ryan to the GOP slate. I'm thinking that with a little bit of a transplanted widow's peak to his hairline, Chip Cravaack of the Eighth Congressional District might just make a damn convincing stunt double for Paul Ryan. Hey, think about it.
Is this a helluva country or what?
Saturday, April 7, 2012
chairs reglued in an election year
I've been taking furniture to Mr. Cilek for repairs for a long tome now. You may have seen the sign in his front yard on Randolph, a block or so east of Snelling: "Chairs Reglued". That's what he does.
This last time, I made Ms Susan take the busted chair in to him. This was kind of scary for her, something that she'd never done before. But hey...it's right on her way to work and if she's smart, and I'm not saying she isn't, she could swing through PJ Murphy's Bakery for a couple of raspberry bismarcks on the way down the hill to Monroe. That's what I'd do if I had to drop off a chair to be reglued at Cilek's and then had to end up at Monroe for an action-packed and satisfying day of teaching 4th graders. I'd fortify myself any way I could and I see raspberry bismarcks as a worthwhile addition to the fortifying arsenal. But I head northwest to work and Cilek's Furniture repair is south and east.
I went to pick up the chair today after Susan had dropped it off on Monday. I'd been assigned the southern loop of the string of errands that had to be run prior to hosting Easter dinner tomorrow. Cilek's for the chair, Walgreen's for a prescription and some plastic eggs for the egg hunt, the tailor's shop down in Highland (that's sort of a contradiction in terms but, after all, I'm talking St. Paul) to pick up a mended sport coat and then to Widmer's for the big-ass 20 lb. ham for dinner tomorrow. Miz Susan got to head east for bread at Great Harvest and then the co-op and I'll bet she managed to stick her head into a couple of other shops along the way. She probably got the easier trip but I'm not complaining.
For my first stop, I pulled up to the garage that serves as Mr. Cilek's shop. I went right on in (the sign says to do that) but no one was home. Susan had told me that, despite her initial fear of the unknown, she felt right at home in Mr. Cilek's workshop. The clutter and the cramped quarters and the general cave-like ambiance reminded her right away of her dad's bicycle shop masquerading as a garage in Lamberton. She's right. The same interior decorator could have drawn up the plans for both garages.
After looking around and taking in a few choruses of Nat King Cole on the little boom box, I headed for the back door of the house to see if anyone was home. Mr. Cilek, or one of his people, had phoned this morning to tell us that the chair was ready so I suspected that someone would be around. Sure enough, he greeted me almost immediately at the back door and said that he'd be right out. That routine never changes. It's almost as if can sense that someone is at his back door with a chair that needs to be reglued or to pick one up that's already been reglued. But he'll rarely come out to his workshop to find out who in hell the latest idiot is who's rummaging around in his stuff. To be formally noticed, you need to observe the proprieties and knock on the back door.
He showed up in the workshop within a minute or so with some words of praise as to what a sporty little ride the Camry looked to be. I wasn't about to argue that one. He flicked off the boombox, where Nat King Cole had moved on to "Almost Like Being in Love", with an explanation that it wasn't his kind of music. Okay then. I wrote him a check after asking, like I always do, to whom I should write it. I suggested "Eugene Cilek?" and he liked that idea. Not "Cilek Furniture Repair" or "Cilek's" but almost always, "Eugene Cilek". I tried to play like I had the faintest idea of how he reglued chairs and got slapped down for suggesting bolts and we got to talking about how long he'd been at his trade and how long I'd been bringing him chairs to be reglued. He told me that he'd opened up shop in 1960 the day after he got married and I figured out that I must have first come to him in about 1975 with the old dining room table I'd bought from Jim Franklin back in the West Publishing days. That table is still in the family over at Alison and Tomas's nowadays. I suppose that he's had repeat customers for longer than my 35 years but 35 years is a pretty good run. If nothing else, I'm loyal. I'd be going to Henry's Shoe Repair down on Grand Avenue if he still had the store and I remember buying sneakers in there with my mom back into the early 60's. Just about the same time Gene Cilek was opening the door to his workshop out behind his house on Randolph.
As I was getting ready to race off in the sporty little Camry, Mr. Cilek gave me one of his business cards. He'd scrawled 1130 AM and something else on the back of his card. He urged me to check out Sean Hannity on the station. Just listen to Hannity twice and I'd be convinced, he told me. And Rush Limbaugh, too. Like I said before, OK then. Maybe he was kidding or confused. When I'd pointed out to him that it was Nat King Cole whom he'd cut off earlier, he admitted that he really did like him.
So here's this long-time associate, a trusted contributor to the workings of the family business. He's right up there with Brian, the Schwan's delivery guy. But from what I heard today, Mr. Cilek with his political outlook would probably see my upcoming vote for Amy Klobuchar as something no better than a vote for Madame Mao. We parted agreeing to agree to that it was good to be able to listen to what we wanted to in this country. Even if he didn't seem to like the long-term future for that privilege.
I say it over and over again. Is this a great country or what? And if Mr. Cilek can try to convert his customers, I guess I can, too. I'm encouraging anyone who's reading this to vote no in November against all of those obnoxious proposed constitutional amendments which the Republicans and their big business sponsors are cluttering the ballot up with. And encourage your friends and neighbors to do likewise, too. Or not to vote on them at all. Isn't non-vote the same as a no vote?
I'm not going toe to toe with Mr. Cilek, though. Even pushing 80, he can probably beat me up. And I might need to go back to him if I've ever got any more chairs that need to be reglued.
This last time, I made Ms Susan take the busted chair in to him. This was kind of scary for her, something that she'd never done before. But hey...it's right on her way to work and if she's smart, and I'm not saying she isn't, she could swing through PJ Murphy's Bakery for a couple of raspberry bismarcks on the way down the hill to Monroe. That's what I'd do if I had to drop off a chair to be reglued at Cilek's and then had to end up at Monroe for an action-packed and satisfying day of teaching 4th graders. I'd fortify myself any way I could and I see raspberry bismarcks as a worthwhile addition to the fortifying arsenal. But I head northwest to work and Cilek's Furniture repair is south and east.
I went to pick up the chair today after Susan had dropped it off on Monday. I'd been assigned the southern loop of the string of errands that had to be run prior to hosting Easter dinner tomorrow. Cilek's for the chair, Walgreen's for a prescription and some plastic eggs for the egg hunt, the tailor's shop down in Highland (that's sort of a contradiction in terms but, after all, I'm talking St. Paul) to pick up a mended sport coat and then to Widmer's for the big-ass 20 lb. ham for dinner tomorrow. Miz Susan got to head east for bread at Great Harvest and then the co-op and I'll bet she managed to stick her head into a couple of other shops along the way. She probably got the easier trip but I'm not complaining.
For my first stop, I pulled up to the garage that serves as Mr. Cilek's shop. I went right on in (the sign says to do that) but no one was home. Susan had told me that, despite her initial fear of the unknown, she felt right at home in Mr. Cilek's workshop. The clutter and the cramped quarters and the general cave-like ambiance reminded her right away of her dad's bicycle shop masquerading as a garage in Lamberton. She's right. The same interior decorator could have drawn up the plans for both garages.
After looking around and taking in a few choruses of Nat King Cole on the little boom box, I headed for the back door of the house to see if anyone was home. Mr. Cilek, or one of his people, had phoned this morning to tell us that the chair was ready so I suspected that someone would be around. Sure enough, he greeted me almost immediately at the back door and said that he'd be right out. That routine never changes. It's almost as if can sense that someone is at his back door with a chair that needs to be reglued or to pick one up that's already been reglued. But he'll rarely come out to his workshop to find out who in hell the latest idiot is who's rummaging around in his stuff. To be formally noticed, you need to observe the proprieties and knock on the back door.
He showed up in the workshop within a minute or so with some words of praise as to what a sporty little ride the Camry looked to be. I wasn't about to argue that one. He flicked off the boombox, where Nat King Cole had moved on to "Almost Like Being in Love", with an explanation that it wasn't his kind of music. Okay then. I wrote him a check after asking, like I always do, to whom I should write it. I suggested "Eugene Cilek?" and he liked that idea. Not "Cilek Furniture Repair" or "Cilek's" but almost always, "Eugene Cilek". I tried to play like I had the faintest idea of how he reglued chairs and got slapped down for suggesting bolts and we got to talking about how long he'd been at his trade and how long I'd been bringing him chairs to be reglued. He told me that he'd opened up shop in 1960 the day after he got married and I figured out that I must have first come to him in about 1975 with the old dining room table I'd bought from Jim Franklin back in the West Publishing days. That table is still in the family over at Alison and Tomas's nowadays. I suppose that he's had repeat customers for longer than my 35 years but 35 years is a pretty good run. If nothing else, I'm loyal. I'd be going to Henry's Shoe Repair down on Grand Avenue if he still had the store and I remember buying sneakers in there with my mom back into the early 60's. Just about the same time Gene Cilek was opening the door to his workshop out behind his house on Randolph.
As I was getting ready to race off in the sporty little Camry, Mr. Cilek gave me one of his business cards. He'd scrawled 1130 AM and something else on the back of his card. He urged me to check out Sean Hannity on the station. Just listen to Hannity twice and I'd be convinced, he told me. And Rush Limbaugh, too. Like I said before, OK then. Maybe he was kidding or confused. When I'd pointed out to him that it was Nat King Cole whom he'd cut off earlier, he admitted that he really did like him.
So here's this long-time associate, a trusted contributor to the workings of the family business. He's right up there with Brian, the Schwan's delivery guy. But from what I heard today, Mr. Cilek with his political outlook would probably see my upcoming vote for Amy Klobuchar as something no better than a vote for Madame Mao. We parted agreeing to agree to that it was good to be able to listen to what we wanted to in this country. Even if he didn't seem to like the long-term future for that privilege.
I say it over and over again. Is this a great country or what? And if Mr. Cilek can try to convert his customers, I guess I can, too. I'm encouraging anyone who's reading this to vote no in November against all of those obnoxious proposed constitutional amendments which the Republicans and their big business sponsors are cluttering the ballot up with. And encourage your friends and neighbors to do likewise, too. Or not to vote on them at all. Isn't non-vote the same as a no vote?
I'm not going toe to toe with Mr. Cilek, though. Even pushing 80, he can probably beat me up. And I might need to go back to him if I've ever got any more chairs that need to be reglued.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
partying with the party
The Grand Old Party, that is. The good old GOP. Which starts with "G" and ends with "P" and stands for Republicans. God bless their fiscally and socially conservative souls.
I shambled my way down to the State Capitol Building this past Tuesday along with 1000-1200 of my AFSCME brothers and sisters, union thugs one and all. This was for my second AFSCME Day on the Hill since joining the rank and file. For those of you who aren't caught up on the roster of the virulently anti-American, quasi-terrorist organizations which are trying to ruin the country with their inflated wages, bloated benefits and unaffordable pension plans, AFSCME stands for the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees. The average AFSCME employee paycheck yields somewhere in the vicinity of $38K pre-taxes per annum, so it's pretty easy to see what a drain on the country's resources this crowd of socialist agitators is.
This Day on the Hill thing (hereinafter referred to as DOTH, maybe) is an annual event for AFSCME members to descend on the Capitol in an unholy attempt to cow our hard-working and always productive state legislators into handing over control of the state and the country to the rabble. Why, it's enough to merit evoking Marie Antoinette on that cake eating bit. The union provides a free lunch (maybe there is such a thing, after all) and a packetful of Big Labor propaganda (to memorize and spout at the lawmakers) and luxury motor coach transport back and forth between the Crowne Plaza Hotel and the Capitol. The union bosses will even go so far as to pick up the tab for lost wages for members who skip out on their overpaid jobs to make the scene. My gosh, it's as if the Iron Curtain has been rehung right here in downtown Saint Paul. Maybe this mob of unwashed troublemakers has forgotten that Ronald Reagan single-handedly forced the godless commies to tear down that wall.
At any rate, it didn't seem like the legislators were having any of it. Ever since the GOPers wrested control of both houses of the legislature out of the hands of the Wellstone-inspired fanatics back in 2010, they've been able to dig in their heels and draw some battle lines in their crusade to reclaim the country and the Constitution. Maybe some day they'll get around to reading the whole thing and not just the parts that justify their dreams of taking us back to the 1890's. For the second year in a row, I got to lay eyes on Mary Kiffmeyer as she glided effortlessly over the marble floors on her way to do battle against the widespread conspiracy of voting fraud. And who would know better about this threat to the right to the franchise than this former Secretary of State? Pay no attention to the fact that nobody's been able to show much in the way of evidence of concerted voter fraud; it's gotta be out there somewhere and, by God, we need a Voter ID law. And she and her party's knights are hard at work to put a Right to Work amendment into the constitution, too. Again, pay no attention to all of the numbers which show that right to work laws guarantee only the right to work for less.
Shortly after Mary got herself rousted out of her cushy Secretary of State gig by that horrible little ACORN tool Mark Ritchie, she set her eyes on greener pastures and now represents the good people of Big Lake in the Big House. No, not the women's correctional facility in Shakopee, I'm talking about the Minnesota House of Representatives. From this lofty vantage point, she's been able to make some ambitious plans to protect our voting rights. She plans to do this, apparently, by taking away the voting rights of the young, the elderly, absentee ballot casters, actively serving armed forces members, vets' home residents, members of communities of color...you get my drift; the list goes on. And, if these constituencies might tend to lean a little to the left, well...that's a small price to pay to preserve democracy. And an amazing coincidence besides.
But c'mon. For whom do we send our legislators to work in St. Paul, after all? Is it the fat cats and the big money interests that fund Republican election campaigns or is it the squalid malcontents pulling down 38 thou a year? I know who gets my vote.
If Mary Kiffmeyer has ascended to my personal hall of fame of politicians (up there with Michele Bachmann and Mitch McConnell), I'm growing more and more intrigued by this nice, cleancut Rick Santorum guy. I oohed and aahed in this forum awhile back about his knack for stylin' a sweater vest (Minnesota-made, it turns out) but I never dreamed that, by now, he'd be within 1100 delegates or so of wrapping up the Republican nomination for the honor of vanquishing that Obamma guy from the White House in November. Well, he is and he's serious about it. I missed my golden opportunity to see Senator (if former) Santorum in person when I turned the car northwest to go to work on Thursday rather than locking the GPS on due east. Turns out that candidate Santorum was stirring up the party faithful just across the St. Croix River in Hudson, Wisconsin. He's been stumping the state in anticipation of Tuesday's primary. I'm sure he did himself proud in Hudson and I'm sorry I missed my chance to be in the presence of greatness. But maybe not as proud as he did himself the following day in Janesville. Now that was some stump speech.
Oh you Republicans. You folks surely do know how to put on one heck of an entertaining campaign for your party's Presidential nomination. I'm as happy as can be to have been partying with you last Tuesday.
I shambled my way down to the State Capitol Building this past Tuesday along with 1000-1200 of my AFSCME brothers and sisters, union thugs one and all. This was for my second AFSCME Day on the Hill since joining the rank and file. For those of you who aren't caught up on the roster of the virulently anti-American, quasi-terrorist organizations which are trying to ruin the country with their inflated wages, bloated benefits and unaffordable pension plans, AFSCME stands for the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees. The average AFSCME employee paycheck yields somewhere in the vicinity of $38K pre-taxes per annum, so it's pretty easy to see what a drain on the country's resources this crowd of socialist agitators is.
This Day on the Hill thing (hereinafter referred to as DOTH, maybe) is an annual event for AFSCME members to descend on the Capitol in an unholy attempt to cow our hard-working and always productive state legislators into handing over control of the state and the country to the rabble. Why, it's enough to merit evoking Marie Antoinette on that cake eating bit. The union provides a free lunch (maybe there is such a thing, after all) and a packetful of Big Labor propaganda (to memorize and spout at the lawmakers) and luxury motor coach transport back and forth between the Crowne Plaza Hotel and the Capitol. The union bosses will even go so far as to pick up the tab for lost wages for members who skip out on their overpaid jobs to make the scene. My gosh, it's as if the Iron Curtain has been rehung right here in downtown Saint Paul. Maybe this mob of unwashed troublemakers has forgotten that Ronald Reagan single-handedly forced the godless commies to tear down that wall.
At any rate, it didn't seem like the legislators were having any of it. Ever since the GOPers wrested control of both houses of the legislature out of the hands of the Wellstone-inspired fanatics back in 2010, they've been able to dig in their heels and draw some battle lines in their crusade to reclaim the country and the Constitution. Maybe some day they'll get around to reading the whole thing and not just the parts that justify their dreams of taking us back to the 1890's. For the second year in a row, I got to lay eyes on Mary Kiffmeyer as she glided effortlessly over the marble floors on her way to do battle against the widespread conspiracy of voting fraud. And who would know better about this threat to the right to the franchise than this former Secretary of State? Pay no attention to the fact that nobody's been able to show much in the way of evidence of concerted voter fraud; it's gotta be out there somewhere and, by God, we need a Voter ID law. And she and her party's knights are hard at work to put a Right to Work amendment into the constitution, too. Again, pay no attention to all of the numbers which show that right to work laws guarantee only the right to work for less.
Shortly after Mary got herself rousted out of her cushy Secretary of State gig by that horrible little ACORN tool Mark Ritchie, she set her eyes on greener pastures and now represents the good people of Big Lake in the Big House. No, not the women's correctional facility in Shakopee, I'm talking about the Minnesota House of Representatives. From this lofty vantage point, she's been able to make some ambitious plans to protect our voting rights. She plans to do this, apparently, by taking away the voting rights of the young, the elderly, absentee ballot casters, actively serving armed forces members, vets' home residents, members of communities of color...you get my drift; the list goes on. And, if these constituencies might tend to lean a little to the left, well...that's a small price to pay to preserve democracy. And an amazing coincidence besides.
But c'mon. For whom do we send our legislators to work in St. Paul, after all? Is it the fat cats and the big money interests that fund Republican election campaigns or is it the squalid malcontents pulling down 38 thou a year? I know who gets my vote.
If Mary Kiffmeyer has ascended to my personal hall of fame of politicians (up there with Michele Bachmann and Mitch McConnell), I'm growing more and more intrigued by this nice, cleancut Rick Santorum guy. I oohed and aahed in this forum awhile back about his knack for stylin' a sweater vest (Minnesota-made, it turns out) but I never dreamed that, by now, he'd be within 1100 delegates or so of wrapping up the Republican nomination for the honor of vanquishing that Obamma guy from the White House in November. Well, he is and he's serious about it. I missed my golden opportunity to see Senator (if former) Santorum in person when I turned the car northwest to go to work on Thursday rather than locking the GPS on due east. Turns out that candidate Santorum was stirring up the party faithful just across the St. Croix River in Hudson, Wisconsin. He's been stumping the state in anticipation of Tuesday's primary. I'm sure he did himself proud in Hudson and I'm sorry I missed my chance to be in the presence of greatness. But maybe not as proud as he did himself the following day in Janesville. Now that was some stump speech.
Oh you Republicans. You folks surely do know how to put on one heck of an entertaining campaign for your party's Presidential nomination. I'm as happy as can be to have been partying with you last Tuesday.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
democracy at work at jc penney
I don't usually get too involved in politics, at least not directly. Yeah, I'm opinionated as hell and I'll run my mouth like any other fool. I'll vote in almost every election but a yard sign is about as close as I get to violent revolution. Especially if whatever campaign the yard sign is hyping expects a cash contribution from me for naming rights to my front yard. Isn't it supposed to work the other way around? If it did, maybe I'd get more involved.
But we bucked the normal state of the body politic at home and Miz Susan and I took it to the streets last night. We made the slog north on Snelling Avenue to Rosedale and specifically the JC Penney store. Miz Susan had been intrigued by the new-look Sunday ad supplement last week and then this firestorm(?) of controversy boiled over after some lunatic fringe internet presence calling itself OneMillionMoms advocated a boycott against the retail giant. All because Penney's has hired Ellen DeGeneres as one of its advertising mouthpieces.
I've always loved what little I've seen of Ellen DeGeneres. She's smart and funny and self-effacing and she's got those amazing blue eyes. I have no idea how putting her on the JCP payroll is going to boost the Worthington and Stafford and Arizona Jeans brands but she's a heck of a lot more palatable than Martha Stewart. Good gracious, what were those K-Mart advertising geniuses thinking?
I'm sure that there are a bunch of people out there for whom the OneMillionMom crap resonates. But I'd guess that very few of them are card-carrying, dues-paying OMMers. And if even Bill O'Reilly is calling the Moms latter-day McCarthy-era witch hunters, these creeps are probably already slithering back to the shady areas under the rocks where they came from.
There didn't seem to be much sign of a boycott at Penney's last night unless that little miniature choo-choo train that chugged past the mall entrance to the store every once in awhile had a political significance I didn't catch. I ended up dropping 104 bucks in the men's department while Susan was running around the rest of the mall doing God alone knows what. I could have gotten along without almost any of the things I bought but I'll wear 'em and probably ask myself each time I do, "Is this is a great country or what?"
I'd thought that maybe I'd step it up a notch beyond letting my money talk. That I'd tell the clerk that I was there specifically to support Ellen's employment and to ask that he or she pass the word up the chain of command. Here was one consumer who wasn't going to be intimidated by a lame-ass call for a boycott from some shadowy group of haters. But I kept my mouth shut since the kid who waited on me had an annoying goatee and was wearing an orange bow tie which clashed terribly, even to my usually insensitive eye, with his reddish plaid shirt. Maybe there was a political significance to the outfit which I'm just not hip enough to pick up on. The mere fact that i was at JC Penney on a Saturday night in February is probably a sign that I'm not hip enough to pick up on anything at all.
But we bucked the normal state of the body politic at home and Miz Susan and I took it to the streets last night. We made the slog north on Snelling Avenue to Rosedale and specifically the JC Penney store. Miz Susan had been intrigued by the new-look Sunday ad supplement last week and then this firestorm(?) of controversy boiled over after some lunatic fringe internet presence calling itself OneMillionMoms advocated a boycott against the retail giant. All because Penney's has hired Ellen DeGeneres as one of its advertising mouthpieces.
I've always loved what little I've seen of Ellen DeGeneres. She's smart and funny and self-effacing and she's got those amazing blue eyes. I have no idea how putting her on the JCP payroll is going to boost the Worthington and Stafford and Arizona Jeans brands but she's a heck of a lot more palatable than Martha Stewart. Good gracious, what were those K-Mart advertising geniuses thinking?
I'm sure that there are a bunch of people out there for whom the OneMillionMom crap resonates. But I'd guess that very few of them are card-carrying, dues-paying OMMers. And if even Bill O'Reilly is calling the Moms latter-day McCarthy-era witch hunters, these creeps are probably already slithering back to the shady areas under the rocks where they came from.
There didn't seem to be much sign of a boycott at Penney's last night unless that little miniature choo-choo train that chugged past the mall entrance to the store every once in awhile had a political significance I didn't catch. I ended up dropping 104 bucks in the men's department while Susan was running around the rest of the mall doing God alone knows what. I could have gotten along without almost any of the things I bought but I'll wear 'em and probably ask myself each time I do, "Is this is a great country or what?"
I'd thought that maybe I'd step it up a notch beyond letting my money talk. That I'd tell the clerk that I was there specifically to support Ellen's employment and to ask that he or she pass the word up the chain of command. Here was one consumer who wasn't going to be intimidated by a lame-ass call for a boycott from some shadowy group of haters. But I kept my mouth shut since the kid who waited on me had an annoying goatee and was wearing an orange bow tie which clashed terribly, even to my usually insensitive eye, with his reddish plaid shirt. Maybe there was a political significance to the outfit which I'm just not hip enough to pick up on. The mere fact that i was at JC Penney on a Saturday night in February is probably a sign that I'm not hip enough to pick up on anything at all.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
new year's resolve
Miz Susan and I had, even by our pathetically low standards, a remarkably low intensity New Year's Eve celebration last night. Despite 2-hour naps for both of us earlier in the day, we were both sound asleep by 10:30. It's not the first new year we haven't been awake to welcome and I'm pretty sure that it won't be the last. I'm telling you, we were exhausted by the day's activities.
Susan had walked all the way to Coastal Seafood (and back) for fish for the fish tacos we'd talked about for last night. And I was totally done in by my second workout at the 4-lane lap pool at LA Fitness in the Midway. And, even more draining, the media section at Target looking for movies to follow the fish tacos. She had given me a list of acceptable choices most of which, it turns out, are probably still exclusively in the theaters. So I picked up the one I could find that she'd OK'd but which I'm sure will be too bleak for her and some Meryl-Streep-as-one-of-five-sisters thing. I figured the five sisters theme would at least resonate.
The one movie that I'd thought about before I got to Target was Invictus and, by God, there it was: a spot on the shelf with a sale-price sticker at $3.98. Score!! But it was, of course, out of stock and, though I was given a rain check for the sale price good through February 15th, it's up to me to check back for it. The 15-year old red-shirt "helping" me scornfully told me so. Target Corp. apparently can't be bothered to robo-call or e-mail me when the damn thing comes back into the store. I'm almost certain that there's technology available to do that but they probably don't really want me back for the mere $3.98 sale which they know is about all they'd get out of me. Oh well, I brought the two home and we'll watch those; I'm going to try to slip in The Namesake and The Visitor, both having come highly recommended as uplifting. Lord knows we can stand some uplifting.
With all of this in mind and the TV newscasts reminding me of more important, if not especially uplifting, current events, I'm going to reveal some of my New Year's resolutions. I've never been much for New Year's resolutions given what I know about my basically weak and hungry-for- instant-gratification nature. I'd only've been setting myself up for even more failure and who need's that? But the resolutions I've come up with seem to be ones that even I can stick to.
First of all, I've resolved to withdraw my support for Michele Bachmann's campaign for the GOP nomination for president. And I haven't accepted any juicy payments from the competition to jump ship. It's not that I don't still think she's a great American and the one truest conservative in the race. But everyone else seems to be deserting her and I don't want to miss out on what might be a good idea; there have been so many good ideas that I've missed out on due to pure sloth. I've thought long and hard about all of the other GOP hopefuls and, despite Rick Santorum rocking a sweater vest like nobody else since my 11th grade analytic geometry and trig teacher, I've decided that I'm going to throw my support to Barack Obama. Even if he's never taken me up on my invite to stop by the house (if both he and the White Sox are in town at the same time) to watch the game and drink a couple of Old Styles and maybe sneak a quick smoke out on the back deck with those of our residents also having a tough time kicking the habit.
He is a Republican, right? I assume that he's the front-runner for the GOP nod based on how everybody else has been talking smack about him at the debates. Which he's been skipping to avoid making himself look as stupid as the rest of them have. He seems like the best hope of the party to wrest the White House out of the grips of the evil Dems. I hope that you'll join me in my support of Barack in the coming Iowa caucuses even though I've told Susan that there's no way we're driving down across the state line to caucus for him. After all, it is a school night.
I have also resolved to stop cyber-stalking Justin Bieber and Jessica Alba. It's not that their people have contacted me yet and told me to knock it off but I don't want it to go that far. I'm not sure what my replacement obsessions are going to be but I'm sure that they'll be a little more worthy of me. I could fall back on my old practice of sending off e-mails to record labels begging them to reissue favorite but long unavailable CD's (likely long unavailable because they're no one else's favorites). That's never really borne fruit in the past but it seems like a much healthier pastime. Let me know if you've got any other crusades you'd like me to join. Just so long as they're not the Michele Bachmann campaign.
I'm also going to stop saying petty and snotty things in public forums about Tony Sutton and Amy Koch. I'm just going to let those two fade quietly into the sunset of yesterday's political landscape to enjoy some quality time with their families. Who will be, I'm sure, happy to have them home a little more often. This will leave me only Curt Zellers to badmouth but his new haircuts have been a huge improvement over the former coiffure which I made light of. I may have to hope that he and his fellow (and sister) Repubs actually make big-ass fools of themselves over substantive, public affairs issues to find fodder for mockery. And what are the chances of that? What with the proposed sanctity of marriage amendment vote overshadowing all other pressing matters, there's little hope that the GOPers are going to take any wrong steps. Who says that government needs to step back and just leave us alone to live our lives and pursue our dreams? What a load of hogwash that is.
This is a tough one but I've resolved to stop drinking that $125 a bottle single-malt Scotch whiskey which I've grown fond of. What the hell's wrong wrong with Hudson's Bay Scotch? That's a time-honored name in the distillery business and so what if Hudson's Bay is a wee bit more than a hop, skip and a jump from the heather covered moors and highlands of my forebears? Let's keep it local.
I'm also giving up cigarettes, marijuana, smack, speed, meth, crack cocaine and chewing tobacco. I swear that I'm not going to indulge in these products and I further swear that I'm not going to traffic in them, either. At least not for my own gratification nor financial gain. I'm going to leave those markets to the professionals who are probably far better at what they do than I could ever hope to be. Notice that I said nothing about cigars.
And finally, I'm going to stop saving up my money, a quarter or two at a time, for that Formula 1 race car I've been eying. The thought behind that was that it could help speed me to and from work up and down I-94's W and E not to mention East River Road. Yeah, there are lots of plainly posted speed limits all along those stretches but nobody else seems to pay much attention to them. So, why should I? The cops don't seem to be out all that often either. But if the only thing that the new car can now speed me to at the end of the day is another workout in the 4-lane lap pool at LA in the Midway, then who needs it? If I'm going to pay real money in the way of membership fees to feel as crummy as I do after my not so brisk workouts then why would I really want to be in a hurry to get to them? Now, if it was to come home to running my street drug empire, there might be some compelling reasons to move things along. But, as I wrote above, I've given that stuff up for the New Year.
It seems like even when I keep my New Year's resolutions, I might not be all that much better off than I was before. What the hell!? Happy New Year everyone. Even Michele Bachmann.
Susan had walked all the way to Coastal Seafood (and back) for fish for the fish tacos we'd talked about for last night. And I was totally done in by my second workout at the 4-lane lap pool at LA Fitness in the Midway. And, even more draining, the media section at Target looking for movies to follow the fish tacos. She had given me a list of acceptable choices most of which, it turns out, are probably still exclusively in the theaters. So I picked up the one I could find that she'd OK'd but which I'm sure will be too bleak for her and some Meryl-Streep-as-one-of-five-sisters thing. I figured the five sisters theme would at least resonate.
The one movie that I'd thought about before I got to Target was Invictus and, by God, there it was: a spot on the shelf with a sale-price sticker at $3.98. Score!! But it was, of course, out of stock and, though I was given a rain check for the sale price good through February 15th, it's up to me to check back for it. The 15-year old red-shirt "helping" me scornfully told me so. Target Corp. apparently can't be bothered to robo-call or e-mail me when the damn thing comes back into the store. I'm almost certain that there's technology available to do that but they probably don't really want me back for the mere $3.98 sale which they know is about all they'd get out of me. Oh well, I brought the two home and we'll watch those; I'm going to try to slip in The Namesake and The Visitor, both having come highly recommended as uplifting. Lord knows we can stand some uplifting.
With all of this in mind and the TV newscasts reminding me of more important, if not especially uplifting, current events, I'm going to reveal some of my New Year's resolutions. I've never been much for New Year's resolutions given what I know about my basically weak and hungry-for- instant-gratification nature. I'd only've been setting myself up for even more failure and who need's that? But the resolutions I've come up with seem to be ones that even I can stick to.
First of all, I've resolved to withdraw my support for Michele Bachmann's campaign for the GOP nomination for president. And I haven't accepted any juicy payments from the competition to jump ship. It's not that I don't still think she's a great American and the one truest conservative in the race. But everyone else seems to be deserting her and I don't want to miss out on what might be a good idea; there have been so many good ideas that I've missed out on due to pure sloth. I've thought long and hard about all of the other GOP hopefuls and, despite Rick Santorum rocking a sweater vest like nobody else since my 11th grade analytic geometry and trig teacher, I've decided that I'm going to throw my support to Barack Obama. Even if he's never taken me up on my invite to stop by the house (if both he and the White Sox are in town at the same time) to watch the game and drink a couple of Old Styles and maybe sneak a quick smoke out on the back deck with those of our residents also having a tough time kicking the habit.
He is a Republican, right? I assume that he's the front-runner for the GOP nod based on how everybody else has been talking smack about him at the debates. Which he's been skipping to avoid making himself look as stupid as the rest of them have. He seems like the best hope of the party to wrest the White House out of the grips of the evil Dems. I hope that you'll join me in my support of Barack in the coming Iowa caucuses even though I've told Susan that there's no way we're driving down across the state line to caucus for him. After all, it is a school night.
I have also resolved to stop cyber-stalking Justin Bieber and Jessica Alba. It's not that their people have contacted me yet and told me to knock it off but I don't want it to go that far. I'm not sure what my replacement obsessions are going to be but I'm sure that they'll be a little more worthy of me. I could fall back on my old practice of sending off e-mails to record labels begging them to reissue favorite but long unavailable CD's (likely long unavailable because they're no one else's favorites). That's never really borne fruit in the past but it seems like a much healthier pastime. Let me know if you've got any other crusades you'd like me to join. Just so long as they're not the Michele Bachmann campaign.
I'm also going to stop saying petty and snotty things in public forums about Tony Sutton and Amy Koch. I'm just going to let those two fade quietly into the sunset of yesterday's political landscape to enjoy some quality time with their families. Who will be, I'm sure, happy to have them home a little more often. This will leave me only Curt Zellers to badmouth but his new haircuts have been a huge improvement over the former coiffure which I made light of. I may have to hope that he and his fellow (and sister) Repubs actually make big-ass fools of themselves over substantive, public affairs issues to find fodder for mockery. And what are the chances of that? What with the proposed sanctity of marriage amendment vote overshadowing all other pressing matters, there's little hope that the GOPers are going to take any wrong steps. Who says that government needs to step back and just leave us alone to live our lives and pursue our dreams? What a load of hogwash that is.
This is a tough one but I've resolved to stop drinking that $125 a bottle single-malt Scotch whiskey which I've grown fond of. What the hell's wrong wrong with Hudson's Bay Scotch? That's a time-honored name in the distillery business and so what if Hudson's Bay is a wee bit more than a hop, skip and a jump from the heather covered moors and highlands of my forebears? Let's keep it local.
I'm also giving up cigarettes, marijuana, smack, speed, meth, crack cocaine and chewing tobacco. I swear that I'm not going to indulge in these products and I further swear that I'm not going to traffic in them, either. At least not for my own gratification nor financial gain. I'm going to leave those markets to the professionals who are probably far better at what they do than I could ever hope to be. Notice that I said nothing about cigars.
And finally, I'm going to stop saving up my money, a quarter or two at a time, for that Formula 1 race car I've been eying. The thought behind that was that it could help speed me to and from work up and down I-94's W and E not to mention East River Road. Yeah, there are lots of plainly posted speed limits all along those stretches but nobody else seems to pay much attention to them. So, why should I? The cops don't seem to be out all that often either. But if the only thing that the new car can now speed me to at the end of the day is another workout in the 4-lane lap pool at LA in the Midway, then who needs it? If I'm going to pay real money in the way of membership fees to feel as crummy as I do after my not so brisk workouts then why would I really want to be in a hurry to get to them? Now, if it was to come home to running my street drug empire, there might be some compelling reasons to move things along. But, as I wrote above, I've given that stuff up for the New Year.
It seems like even when I keep my New Year's resolutions, I might not be all that much better off than I was before. What the hell!? Happy New Year everyone. Even Michele Bachmann.
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