Maya's "Gato" series Numero Uno - Sanitary petting is deemed best to begin with...
Originally uploaded by emaggie.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Maya's "Gato" series Numero Uno - Petting from a comfortable distance is deemed best to begin with...
Maya's "Gato" series Numero Uno - Sanitary petting is deemed best to begin with...
Originally uploaded by emaggie.
"Gato" series Numero, um, B - A casual disinterest from both sides is shown...
Originally uploaded by emaggie.
Monday, May 29, 2006
The famous bas relief mural on the top level temple in Xochicalco.
Allegedly, the mural on this nobility-level temple was done to commemorate a meeting of Mesoamerican astronomers from all over the map way back in the day (sometime around the turn of the 10th Century). Totally fascinating shtick, if you're into that sort of thing.
Friday, May 26, 2006
Escorpions es horrible bando y mucho distresso pre-beddo visitante
After a few days of settling into life here in Cuernavaca, we've accomplished a few things worth noting:
1. We have a part-time nanny. Actually, two working in tandem, as we've found via a colleague of Sarah's living here. Even though they speak about as much English as I speak Spanish (translation: zilch), we communicate via the tabula rosa of Maya's mucho cute-o-ish-nesso. We're very psyched.
2. My grasp of the current Mexican political cycle (culminating in the national election on July 2nd) has become a bit more firm. Basically, the PAN (Vicente Fox's Party) has a center-right el Presidente candidate, Felipe Calderon, who's made astonishing gains on the center-left's candidate, Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador. Lopez Obrador was expected to win in a cakewalk, but has been "Swift Boated" into a deep dip in his support. I'm still a total neophyte when it comes to Mexico's current political debate. But the more I see of it, the more I think we're all more alike than we are different. Which ain't necessarily a good thing.
And most importantly - 3. We had a baptismal moment of insight into the biological realities of life here last night. The owner of our villa, Bob (or most would say, Roberto), repeatedly warned us that when the rains come, the insects try their darnedest to get indoors. Including (ahem!) the scorpions. We took it all in stride, especially since we'd seen not even a drop of rain since arriving. After watching a movie ("Match Point" - my rating, a semi-squishy C-plus given that Woody Allen did much better with his two primary conceits herein in both "Crimes and Misdemeanors" and "Hannah and Her Sisters" - better than anything he's done in years, nonetheless), we retired to our bedroom. Sarah quickly noticed none other than a frickin' scorpion (!) on the wall. I offered a few flailing attempts, but eventually managed to dispatch the beast (all inch and a half of the frisky bugger). And we both then uneasily tried to go to sleep. To add cinematic heft to our distress, in no time a crackin' good thunderstorm began. With each clap of thunder we both convulsed uneasily with thoughts of the scorpion army surely marching upon our poorly defended rented fortress. Maya stirred a handful of times when the really serious lightning strikes hit. Yet she slipped back into blissful sleep almost as quickly as she stirred. Sarah and I, however, we not so easily swayed back into slumber. When we finally slunk out of bed this morning, unrested and unsettled, and began the sweep of our villa, we came up bupkis on the bugs. In short, all bark from this brand of beast. Hopefully, we'll be able to shake it off tonight and thereafter. Admittedly, I'd never seen a single scorpion prior to last night. Not even when the stinkified hit by the (German hard rockin') Scorpions, "Rock You Like a Hurricane", topped the charts in the late 80s. And if I never see one of either version of Escorpions again, it won't be a disappointment. But we'll keep you posted.
The one major English-language network we get on our extensive cable system here is BBC World. I used it last evening to watch Tony Blair and Dubya stink their way through their shared press conference. Dubya's shtick of trying to joke around with everyone is so painful. But Blair looked utterly horrible. When they both were asked about what "mistakes" they'd made, Dubya actually responded with an answer (translation: talking like a complete dumbass). On the other hand, Blair's response was so unintelligible to me that I thought he might be that lisping retard ordering food ahead of me at a local taco stand. Wait a moment - that's totally unfair to retards. Anyhoo, hope y'all didn't waste time trying to parse that idiocy. Roca sobre.
1. We have a part-time nanny. Actually, two working in tandem, as we've found via a colleague of Sarah's living here. Even though they speak about as much English as I speak Spanish (translation: zilch), we communicate via the tabula rosa of Maya's mucho cute-o-ish-nesso. We're very psyched.
2. My grasp of the current Mexican political cycle (culminating in the national election on July 2nd) has become a bit more firm. Basically, the PAN (Vicente Fox's Party) has a center-right el Presidente candidate, Felipe Calderon, who's made astonishing gains on the center-left's candidate, Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador. Lopez Obrador was expected to win in a cakewalk, but has been "Swift Boated" into a deep dip in his support. I'm still a total neophyte when it comes to Mexico's current political debate. But the more I see of it, the more I think we're all more alike than we are different. Which ain't necessarily a good thing.
And most importantly - 3. We had a baptismal moment of insight into the biological realities of life here last night. The owner of our villa, Bob (or most would say, Roberto), repeatedly warned us that when the rains come, the insects try their darnedest to get indoors. Including (ahem!) the scorpions. We took it all in stride, especially since we'd seen not even a drop of rain since arriving. After watching a movie ("Match Point" - my rating, a semi-squishy C-plus given that Woody Allen did much better with his two primary conceits herein in both "Crimes and Misdemeanors" and "Hannah and Her Sisters" - better than anything he's done in years, nonetheless), we retired to our bedroom. Sarah quickly noticed none other than a frickin' scorpion (!) on the wall. I offered a few flailing attempts, but eventually managed to dispatch the beast (all inch and a half of the frisky bugger). And we both then uneasily tried to go to sleep. To add cinematic heft to our distress, in no time a crackin' good thunderstorm began. With each clap of thunder we both convulsed uneasily with thoughts of the scorpion army surely marching upon our poorly defended rented fortress. Maya stirred a handful of times when the really serious lightning strikes hit. Yet she slipped back into blissful sleep almost as quickly as she stirred. Sarah and I, however, we not so easily swayed back into slumber. When we finally slunk out of bed this morning, unrested and unsettled, and began the sweep of our villa, we came up bupkis on the bugs. In short, all bark from this brand of beast. Hopefully, we'll be able to shake it off tonight and thereafter. Admittedly, I'd never seen a single scorpion prior to last night. Not even when the stinkified hit by the (German hard rockin') Scorpions, "Rock You Like a Hurricane", topped the charts in the late 80s. And if I never see one of either version of Escorpions again, it won't be a disappointment. But we'll keep you posted.
The one major English-language network we get on our extensive cable system here is BBC World. I used it last evening to watch Tony Blair and Dubya stink their way through their shared press conference. Dubya's shtick of trying to joke around with everyone is so painful. But Blair looked utterly horrible. When they both were asked about what "mistakes" they'd made, Dubya actually responded with an answer (translation: talking like a complete dumbass). On the other hand, Blair's response was so unintelligible to me that I thought he might be that lisping retard ordering food ahead of me at a local taco stand. Wait a moment - that's totally unfair to retards. Anyhoo, hope y'all didn't waste time trying to parse that idiocy. Roca sobre.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Monday, May 22, 2006
Cuernavaca Daze - some initial thoughts
We've been in Mexico for less than 48 hours. Loads of good things to report on our setting - we're in a lovely villa in Cuernavaca, Maya's doing her best to counteract the recent anti-Mexican sentiments offered by certain GOP dooshbags by being as charming as a suitcase full of stowaway kittens, the weather's hot but nowhere near Dallas in the Summer hot, none of us has gotten the runs...yet. Most importanly, everyone we've dealt with thus far has been mucho coolo. For those of you keeping score at home, the following are just a few of our experiences thus far.
Since we're going to be here for only a month, we thought it best to pack up most of our life's possessions in 3 suitcases and an array of carry-ons to bring with us. According to the baggage check-in scales, that meant around 250 pounds. Plus our gate-checked jogging stroller. And Maya. Fortunately, we had a driver meet us at the airport in Mexico City. I can't speak Spanish. But when I saw his reaction to our luggage, I could translate immediately what he'd said ("holy crapola!"). He'd shown up in a teeny VW hatchback that weighed about as much as us and our luggage. But we spoke the shared language of "let's do this". So we strapped that puppy down, tied Maya to the roof and hit the highway. Or rather, the choking, polluted, very-LA-ish traffic gridlock of Mexico City. We made it to Cuernavaca in about 2 hours, just about the time Maya began to melt down like an infant Three Mile Island. She then hit the ground running in our villa. And hasn't really stopped since.
On our first full day (yesterday), we went up to Tepotzlan with some people Sarah will be both directly and indirectly working with. Tepotzlan - a smallish town close-by with ancient roots and a top-notch open air market - is what cultural elitists might call "authentically Mexican". In the best way. Great food vendors offer an array of craziness that would probably make a pasty Scandanavian like me crap Technicolor for a week, amazing artisan offerings are everywhere, and wholly cool people watching dominates every frame. Whether it's a good thing or not, Maya's pretty much fearless in crowds and wanted to walk on her own as much as possible. We didn't make the trek up to the famous mountaintop temple visible from town. From a distance, it looks like one of the World War II-era coastal bunkers you can see on Martha's Vineyard or along the California coastline. Not exactly big or regal. Important, nonetheless, apparently. We plan to head back for the whole Tepotzlan enchilada, so to speak, sometime this month.
Maybe more than most people, I'm paralyzed by being unable to speak the language here. If you're unacquainted with my shtick, I'm someone who's largely verbal (about 71%), and being unable to communicate makes me just a tad shy of an angry mute. But that in no way means that I'm avoiding getting out in the mix, for better or worse. Such as this morning when Sarah went in to her gig at the Institute and I threw Maya in the jogging stroller for an hour-and-a-half bouncing along the narrow, broken cobblestone pseudo-sidewalks that line the majorish drag nearby. We headed toward downtown. People looked incredulously at our beloved BOB stroller like I was driving around a chair made of human heads. To her infinite credit, Maya went with the flow while I sweated and struggled over the often foot-deep breaks in the walkway. Somehow amidst all the diesel exhaust and magnitude 7.0+ jostling, she fell asleep. As far as kids go, she's top shelf.
Since we've got a full kitchen and the time to be somewhat normalish about what we're cooking here (we've even got a Weber kettle grill for beer-can chickens and their ilk), we've stocked our kitchen already. Our source? Mudder-effin WALMART. It's the closest supermarket with by far the widest array of offerings. I'm totally planning to find a bilingual beef tongue and entrails supplier working out of a 1984 Ford Aerostar very soon. But for the time being, most of our Mexican expenditures appear to be headed back to Arkansas. Go figure.
We got Maya into the pool for the first time earlier this afternoon during Sarah's unexpected siesta from work. Currently, Maya's stomping on ants and doing laps around our veranda. Or patio. Or brick-lined bug traffic grid. Whatever they call it here. Regardless, kids adjust so well I don't know why we haven't enlisted a bunch of them to add some real operational balls to Dubya's "Mission to Mars" plan. Maya's not ready to be an astronaut right now. Or at least we're not ready for her to be. But she sure is an explorer.
Just a note for readers that may be looking for more "newsy" debates over the next month - consider me offline. Not in the "out of the loop" sense, given our internet connectivity here and my obsessive desire to see what's being reported back in the States. But with all the exploring I hope to get in and all the writing I need to focus on, please expect that and the Family Buick will be a Maya and travelogue zone solely for the next month. Plus expect loads of pics from our new camera - the THIRD in less than three years. Dont' get me started on that frustratingly repeated expenditure. But I think this Nikon's a winner. Hope your own missions are clearly focused today. Rock on.
Since we're going to be here for only a month, we thought it best to pack up most of our life's possessions in 3 suitcases and an array of carry-ons to bring with us. According to the baggage check-in scales, that meant around 250 pounds. Plus our gate-checked jogging stroller. And Maya. Fortunately, we had a driver meet us at the airport in Mexico City. I can't speak Spanish. But when I saw his reaction to our luggage, I could translate immediately what he'd said ("holy crapola!"). He'd shown up in a teeny VW hatchback that weighed about as much as us and our luggage. But we spoke the shared language of "let's do this". So we strapped that puppy down, tied Maya to the roof and hit the highway. Or rather, the choking, polluted, very-LA-ish traffic gridlock of Mexico City. We made it to Cuernavaca in about 2 hours, just about the time Maya began to melt down like an infant Three Mile Island. She then hit the ground running in our villa. And hasn't really stopped since.
On our first full day (yesterday), we went up to Tepotzlan with some people Sarah will be both directly and indirectly working with. Tepotzlan - a smallish town close-by with ancient roots and a top-notch open air market - is what cultural elitists might call "authentically Mexican". In the best way. Great food vendors offer an array of craziness that would probably make a pasty Scandanavian like me crap Technicolor for a week, amazing artisan offerings are everywhere, and wholly cool people watching dominates every frame. Whether it's a good thing or not, Maya's pretty much fearless in crowds and wanted to walk on her own as much as possible. We didn't make the trek up to the famous mountaintop temple visible from town. From a distance, it looks like one of the World War II-era coastal bunkers you can see on Martha's Vineyard or along the California coastline. Not exactly big or regal. Important, nonetheless, apparently. We plan to head back for the whole Tepotzlan enchilada, so to speak, sometime this month.
Maybe more than most people, I'm paralyzed by being unable to speak the language here. If you're unacquainted with my shtick, I'm someone who's largely verbal (about 71%), and being unable to communicate makes me just a tad shy of an angry mute. But that in no way means that I'm avoiding getting out in the mix, for better or worse. Such as this morning when Sarah went in to her gig at the Institute and I threw Maya in the jogging stroller for an hour-and-a-half bouncing along the narrow, broken cobblestone pseudo-sidewalks that line the majorish drag nearby. We headed toward downtown. People looked incredulously at our beloved BOB stroller like I was driving around a chair made of human heads. To her infinite credit, Maya went with the flow while I sweated and struggled over the often foot-deep breaks in the walkway. Somehow amidst all the diesel exhaust and magnitude 7.0+ jostling, she fell asleep. As far as kids go, she's top shelf.
Since we've got a full kitchen and the time to be somewhat normalish about what we're cooking here (we've even got a Weber kettle grill for beer-can chickens and their ilk), we've stocked our kitchen already. Our source? Mudder-effin WALMART. It's the closest supermarket with by far the widest array of offerings. I'm totally planning to find a bilingual beef tongue and entrails supplier working out of a 1984 Ford Aerostar very soon. But for the time being, most of our Mexican expenditures appear to be headed back to Arkansas. Go figure.
We got Maya into the pool for the first time earlier this afternoon during Sarah's unexpected siesta from work. Currently, Maya's stomping on ants and doing laps around our veranda. Or patio. Or brick-lined bug traffic grid. Whatever they call it here. Regardless, kids adjust so well I don't know why we haven't enlisted a bunch of them to add some real operational balls to Dubya's "Mission to Mars" plan. Maya's not ready to be an astronaut right now. Or at least we're not ready for her to be. But she sure is an explorer.
Just a note for readers that may be looking for more "newsy" debates over the next month - consider me offline. Not in the "out of the loop" sense, given our internet connectivity here and my obsessive desire to see what's being reported back in the States. But with all the exploring I hope to get in and all the writing I need to focus on, please expect that and the Family Buick will be a Maya and travelogue zone solely for the next month. Plus expect loads of pics from our new camera - the THIRD in less than three years. Dont' get me started on that frustratingly repeated expenditure. But I think this Nikon's a winner. Hope your own missions are clearly focused today. Rock on.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
A quick 'adios'
Our "to do" lists are largely "done, too" and we're just about ready to put Maya into her kennel for our trip. Fly to Mexico City. Then drive south to Cuernavaca. Maya's in good spirits, with a full tank of sleep girding her against whatever's coming today. Hopefully. We're excited, stressed, and better packed than the 10th Mountain Division. Please check back for our travelogue. Hope you own travels today are equally new and adventurous. Rock on.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Maybe try a bit more toward the shoulder
Today offers too much fatty political food. I'm talking raw bacon with the pan all heated and ready. Tony Snow's first week on the job ain't even over and he already stuck the landing yesterday by using the term "tar baby" and by getting choked up on his cancer survival story. In. The. Same. Briefing. People. I'd like to offer my nomination for the Worst First Week on the Job EVER. Snow Job - you're a keeper.
And in a photo-op that a political absurdist could never get away with staging, Dubya signed the 70 Buh-ill-ee-yon Dollar capital gains tax reduction extension. Apparently, we all doing great. And the Bushies tagged this giveaway via their recently under-contracted jingoistic banner-and-backdrops lackeys "Tax Relief For All Americans". So are you feeling it, America? The relief? No, no...wait for it. It's right there...yea, that's it. Ah, relief.
Hope your own mental exercises are more tangible today. Rock on.
And in a photo-op that a political absurdist could never get away with staging, Dubya signed the 70 Buh-ill-ee-yon Dollar capital gains tax reduction extension. Apparently, we all doing great. And the Bushies tagged this giveaway via their recently under-contracted jingoistic banner-and-backdrops lackeys "Tax Relief For All Americans". So are you feeling it, America? The relief? No, no...wait for it. It's right there...yea, that's it. Ah, relief.
Hope your own mental exercises are more tangible today. Rock on.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
The Bushies try to change the subject...and we're back.
GOOD GAWD was Dubya's speech on immigration a stinker. The best part was the mistakenly broadcast rehearsal on CNN. 6,000 troops sent to the Mexican border for at least one year. This first year, it will cost $1.9 Billion. I'd bet that it goes up thereafter. All the rest - guest worker program, yada yada yada - Dead On Arrival. Why are the Bushies so desperately trying to change the subject? I'd bet that the violence in Iraq has oodles to do with it. If you've got an iron stomach, read the field reporting from the last few days of battles featuring a two-staged attack today on a Baghdad parking garage that left at least 19 dead. The reports of the latest American "victory" in killing 25 "insurgents" hit like a punch in the gut. Now THAT's reporting.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Bordering inanity, yet again
Of all the things Dubya could be saying to the Nation this Monday evening smack dab in the middle of Sweeps Month, he's carting out a plan to fight a war along the Mexican border. If I were a conspiracist, I'd think that he was doing this just to spite me as we prepare to head South of said border next weekend for a month. But do I really think he's merely trying to turn even more of the World against us? Nah, Dubya's just trying to pull some of his base back on board his sinking Preziduncy. And, yes, he would indeed harm us abroad even moreso. This one will get sunk by the public. Kinda like saying that we're going to put a man on Mars. Dumb ideas. I can't imagine that many Americans are going to agree that we need to send thousands of National Guard troops to southernmost Texas, Arizona, New Mexico and California just as the summer heat begins to truly kick in. Not to mention our horribly overburdered National Guard in so many States given their extended overseas work in Iraq. The real issues will remain regardless after this charade is long forgotten. And if ABC and CBS decide today to not even carry the speech, Dubya's stumble up to the bully pulpit with this stinker of a plan just might sink support for him further into the muck. I'll be watching so you don't have to.
Lots going on for us recently and in the upcoming days. We had a fair and balanced family trip to DC last week. It was Maya's 10th trip in little more than a year of traveling. Her new faves are the moving walkways and escalators in the airports, in addition to the constantly repeated reading of her favorite books all along the way. We stayed just on the West End side of Georgetown, which allowed me to troll along M Street with Maya and get a better feel for DC life. Living in that part of DC is, I'm assuming, similar to living in LA and spotting actors here there and everywhere. I saw George Stephanopolus walking down the street and gave him a hearty, "hey, George" - his response was lively and friendly, to his credit. I saw a sweaty Joe Lockhart finishing up a run and grabbing a latte at Dean and Deluca, looking like a high school P.E. teacher with a bad haircut. We had dinner at the home of friends who live across the street from John Negroponte. You couldn't swing a dead cat for more than a few cycles without clipping an overly cosmetic and pill-popping spouse of a Congressperson. Before DC gets downright intolerably hot and steamy it's a heckuva good place to visit.
For those of you that track such changes, life here at and the Family Buick is going to shift to more of a travelogue in the days and weeks ahead. We're going to be in Mexico for a month beginning this Saturday. Not really sure what all I'll get in while we're there. Plenty of pics, at the very least. So please check back. Hope your own plans in the near future take you to new and intriguing locales. Rock on.
Lots going on for us recently and in the upcoming days. We had a fair and balanced family trip to DC last week. It was Maya's 10th trip in little more than a year of traveling. Her new faves are the moving walkways and escalators in the airports, in addition to the constantly repeated reading of her favorite books all along the way. We stayed just on the West End side of Georgetown, which allowed me to troll along M Street with Maya and get a better feel for DC life. Living in that part of DC is, I'm assuming, similar to living in LA and spotting actors here there and everywhere. I saw George Stephanopolus walking down the street and gave him a hearty, "hey, George" - his response was lively and friendly, to his credit. I saw a sweaty Joe Lockhart finishing up a run and grabbing a latte at Dean and Deluca, looking like a high school P.E. teacher with a bad haircut. We had dinner at the home of friends who live across the street from John Negroponte. You couldn't swing a dead cat for more than a few cycles without clipping an overly cosmetic and pill-popping spouse of a Congressperson. Before DC gets downright intolerably hot and steamy it's a heckuva good place to visit.
For those of you that track such changes, life here at and the Family Buick is going to shift to more of a travelogue in the days and weeks ahead. We're going to be in Mexico for a month beginning this Saturday. Not really sure what all I'll get in while we're there. Plenty of pics, at the very least. So please check back. Hope your own plans in the near future take you to new and intriguing locales. Rock on.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Monday, May 01, 2006
What a difference 3 years and well over 2000 dead American soldiers make
It's been 3 years to the day since Dubya swooped on an aircraft carrier purposely turned away from the nearby San Diego coastline so as to better showcase the "Mission Accomplished" banner that I, personally, hope gets permanently plastered outside Karl Rove's prison cell. 3 years, people. Worst. Ignorant. Overstatement. Ever. How frickin' ironic is it that on this inauspicious occasion Dubya came out onto the grassy expanse outside the White House for a photo op that far too prominently featured claims of great success in Iraq. I've said it before and I fear needing to say it repeatedly again - we've lost Iraq. No WMDs, a bastion of terror training, a money pit that is bottomless, no chance of expanding this crusade to a single other country in the Middle East, civil and ethnic strife that we cannot ever stifle. Much of the American populus has already moved on to heatedly discuss $3/gallon gas as if that's a massive insult to our manifest destiny. Meanwhile, over 2400 American men and women have been killed in this pre-emptive action. It's just too heartwrenching to discuss any further. That's why I want to offer a few drive-by thoughts before getting down to work.
The Brewers end April with a record of 14-11. Some tough losses but overall a seriously lovable team with a decent start. The best young infield in baseball. Ned "I've got a" Yost "Infection!" is a sportswriter's dream quote machine as their skipper. Pay attention, America. This team will rock you like Charlie Sheen's divorce filings.
Stephen Colbert went harshly off the comedic reservation on Saturday at the "White House Correspondents Dinner" where his closing shtick apparently pissed off the Decider big-time. I've watched much of what Colbert offered. You should, as well. Dubya may be entirely happy to joke about his own malapropisms and generally ignorant style of discourse. But to see someone cleverly hit him as hard as Colbert did from such close range...well, I was just astonished by Colbert's balls. I'm not a huge fan of "The Colbert Report`". I watch much of it and I still get the joke, but I think on occasion it's a horrible tightrope walk that ventures into the realm of self-parody meta-bunk at almost the turn of every phrase. If something seriously goes askew in this country (another terrorist hit, a real crisis surrounding energy, a scandal that makes Abu Gharib look like a bad summer camp), Colbert's walk will be immediately untalkable. Yet he got more shots in at Dubya than Kerry did in '04 and looked poised throughout. If this isn't a tipping point, it's at least a tipping drill that everyone should pay attention to.
The NBA Playoffs are underway. Check back in 6 weeks for the result.
Rush Limbaugh's fat again. For those of you that declined to pay attention, he lost a bunch of weight by getting horribly addicted to narcotics. Now that he's facing conviction-mandated drug testing and cannot own the firearms he allegedly covets...well, the guy's apparently drowning his sorrow in pork ribs. According to his lawyer, Roy "My Heart is Indellibly" Black, Rush has made an "exceptionally strong recovery." Goes well with the exceptionally strong drinks he now relies upon, I'm sure.
In less than 3 weeks, we're headed to Mexico for a month. Work stuff for Sarah, fun stuff for all three of us. Maya's Spanish is only slightly worse than mine, but we're working on it. Expect loads of travelogue stuff from the end of May through the majority of June. And some visual/navigational changes before then. Thanks for reading. Hope your own forecasts are sunny and long-ranging. Rock on.
The Brewers end April with a record of 14-11. Some tough losses but overall a seriously lovable team with a decent start. The best young infield in baseball. Ned "I've got a" Yost "Infection!" is a sportswriter's dream quote machine as their skipper. Pay attention, America. This team will rock you like Charlie Sheen's divorce filings.
Stephen Colbert went harshly off the comedic reservation on Saturday at the "White House Correspondents Dinner" where his closing shtick apparently pissed off the Decider big-time. I've watched much of what Colbert offered. You should, as well. Dubya may be entirely happy to joke about his own malapropisms and generally ignorant style of discourse. But to see someone cleverly hit him as hard as Colbert did from such close range...well, I was just astonished by Colbert's balls. I'm not a huge fan of "The Colbert Report`". I watch much of it and I still get the joke, but I think on occasion it's a horrible tightrope walk that ventures into the realm of self-parody meta-bunk at almost the turn of every phrase. If something seriously goes askew in this country (another terrorist hit, a real crisis surrounding energy, a scandal that makes Abu Gharib look like a bad summer camp), Colbert's walk will be immediately untalkable. Yet he got more shots in at Dubya than Kerry did in '04 and looked poised throughout. If this isn't a tipping point, it's at least a tipping drill that everyone should pay attention to.
The NBA Playoffs are underway. Check back in 6 weeks for the result.
Rush Limbaugh's fat again. For those of you that declined to pay attention, he lost a bunch of weight by getting horribly addicted to narcotics. Now that he's facing conviction-mandated drug testing and cannot own the firearms he allegedly covets...well, the guy's apparently drowning his sorrow in pork ribs. According to his lawyer, Roy "My Heart is Indellibly" Black, Rush has made an "exceptionally strong recovery." Goes well with the exceptionally strong drinks he now relies upon, I'm sure.
In less than 3 weeks, we're headed to Mexico for a month. Work stuff for Sarah, fun stuff for all three of us. Maya's Spanish is only slightly worse than mine, but we're working on it. Expect loads of travelogue stuff from the end of May through the majority of June. And some visual/navigational changes before then. Thanks for reading. Hope your own forecasts are sunny and long-ranging. Rock on.
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