It's been a long while since a picture on the front page of the NYTimes made me laugh. But seeing Obama enjoying a moment holding up both Mitt Romney's and Karl Rove's latest cheese screeds at an Iowa City bookstore induced more than a few yuks this morning. I'm sure wonky folks all across 'Merica this morning are spitting up a bit of soy latte when they catch the implied meaning of that shot. Kudos are due for that one, BigCity PaperPeople. Even if they do hate our freedom, they're pretty goshdarn clever.
Speaking of which, that bookstore (Prairie Lights Books) must be stoked. Obama bought three kids books there after giving them a shout-out during his health care reform event. Some lucky staffer surely dug doing that advance location scout. I'm sure his whole staff was loving the campaign throwback theatrics of it all. Obama even got to field a heckle about paying for his books with taxpayer money. In effect, that is true. So kudos to the heckler, as well.
Hope your own job lets you spend copious time browsing in bookstores today. Rock on.
Let's get a few things straight. Michigan and Florida suck. They broke the rules. Even Hillary said so not so many months ago when she'd self-determined she couldn't be beat. Florida's election commission was unduly influenced by Governor Charlie Crist (a much-rumored John McCain Veep pick). Everyone aside from Hillary took their name off the Michigan ballot in protest of their cynical move to change the Dems' primaries process. Yet tomorrow we're all about to be beat about the face and ears with every imaginable argument from the Clinton camp that everything's changed now that she's losing by an everstill insurmountable margin. How is Obama dealing with this crap? He's talking foreign policy hypotheticals toe-to-toe with McCain. How's Hillary dealing? By getting blotto on her campaign plane with a much drunker bunch of cynics in the press section. I will reserve judgment until tomorrow, but I expect we'll all be appalled by how her supporters act in DC tomorrow. I'll be tuned in to C-SPAN. So you don't have to. Get outside and play.
Speaking of playing outside - NEWSFLASH! Golf is fun. I won't say that I'm refuting decades of prior denouncements. But after a few expected groaning mulligan holes yesterday, I actually settled in and got my game on while having some serious fun with our friend, Sameer. He won by a wide margin. Still, if we'd decided to play 72 holes instead of just 9, I'm pretty sure that I'd have instead won the beer I gratefully bought him. Tip to fickle fellow lovers of the links - keep your head down. Oh, and imagine Karl Rove bending over whenever you tee off.
Hope your own par scores today take into account every single swing, even if only imagined or unintended. Rock on.
Santa Barbara is so gorgeous that I'm even slated to go play golf this afternoon. For those keeping score at home, this will be my first official outing on the links since just before my wedding. So I'm due for a killer round. Define that however you'd like. Regardless, I'm looking forward to describing my efforts soon for y'all.
While we're loving the vacation atmosphere and catching up with friends and family, DC is warming its cockles over the burning phraseologies lit by Scott McClellan's new book. Like every other pundit and unemployed Bushie, I've got an uninformed opinion to offer. Here goes - SO? Dubya's reputation is set in stone. A soggy self-cleansing weepy like McClellan's won't change a single damn thing. If this changes one single uninformed opinion of this Administration's tenure, I'll eat a Chicago Cubs hat. But, if as I expect, no one will benefit from this aside from McClellan in terms of book sales, Tucker Carlson and Karl Rove must eat a Milwaukee Brewers hat. On camera. Wearing a diaper. So the challenge is out there. Do with it what you will.
As we always love to do on vacation while ample babysitting options abound for Maya, Sarah and I have seen a few movies. Two quick reviews. "Indiana Jones and the Overwrought Pseudo-mystical Bank of Crap Metaphors" - a despicable D rating. Worst movie of the summer. It pains me to say that because I fondly remember seeing the first Indy movie in Ann Arbor with my aunt during a junior high summer and falling in love with the spectacle of this form of event movie. George Lucas is obviously insane. Again. Harrison Ford looks amazing. But if I was asked to pay to see a two-hour pilates class, I fear it might have been more compelling than this mess. Avoid it, if possible. Secondly, as we await opening night for "Sex and the City" (yes, I bought advance tickets for Sarah and me) we played catch-up by seeing "Forgetting Sarah Marshall". My rating - a fun B-minus. Definite rental quality. Better yet, hit the dollar theatres that it's surely bound for in the next month. Jason Segal is sweet, Mila Kundis is surprisingly good for anyone that struggled through the weekly torture that was "That 70s Show", the Judd Apatow cast of hilarious misfits is on its game as always. Silly fun should always be this silly.
Hope your own tee times don't require anything more than a shirt and shoes in the bag today. Rock on.
Wow. August. Who knew so much could happen while Dubya was on another vacation. For those playing catch-up, here's a spare few notes from just the last few days.
Jenna Bush is engaged. To this tool. So the surge is working.
Karl Rove left D.C. to spend more time screwing up his family's future.
And our darling Maya is diggin' her new digs. So my vacation from regular posting is over. Basically. Well, after we head down to Santa Barbara this weekend for a wedding. Maya's psyched to make a sandcastle on the beach. I'm psyched to take a break from unpacking boxes. And I hope y'all are psyched that the fall is right around the corner. Rock on.
For those Dems that were worried that their newfound power wouldn't be used to stick enough fingers in the eyes of Bushies, you got a doublepoke today. The House Oversight Committee approved a subpoena for Condi "I'm sort of still here" Rice to chat about, oh ya know, lying our way into the War in Iraq. And the House Judiciary Committee granted immunity to Monica "I'm supposedly long gone" Goodling and also chose to subpoena her to testify about her role in the firing of the 8 U.S. Attorneys. This comes on the heels of the announced investigation into Karl "I don't work for you" Rove and his political operation within the White House that might be in violation of the Hatch Act. Not to mention the undeniably compelling testimony yesterday by Kevin Tillman and Jessica Lynch about the Pentagon's cynical manipulation of real suffering by our military. You can't swing a lame duck without skidding though a new mess left by those unlovable loyal Bushies. This is what a gathering storm looks like. Like it or not.
Two quickie Beantown reviews - the Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA) is a newish, coolish building with a relatively small amount of gallery space. I imagine the theatre is pretty impressive for the sorts of dance/film/kitten juggling events I see on the upcoming calendar. Go for the architecture and bring a sandwich to enjoy out back looking toward the harbor. But if you're going for a punch in the gut mix of contemporary art, expect to be somewhat disappointed. My rating - an overly critical C-plus. If you've got kids, the even newer Boston Children's Museum is a neccessary stop along the same area of waterfront. When we went this morning, Maya was melting down like Chernobyl before we even got inside. She nonetheless quickly got fired up by all the hands-on diversity. Then she got herself soaked to the gills by the "Boats Afloat" room. So I'd suggest all other parents plan better than we did and bring along a change of clothes for probably the whole famn damily. No matter - we'll be back. My rating - an incomplete but strong B-plus, since we didn't get to see everything.
Hope your own style is matched by equal parts substance today. Rock on.
Before I offer a few quick thoughts on Gonzo's mess over at the (In)Justice Department, the following Karl Rove clip deserve a quick mention. This guy can't even deliver a scripted joke, much less a legacy for Dubya that doesn't start with mention of Iraq. If you want to throw up in your own mouth just a little, here's the finger for your gag reflex.
Kyle Sampson's getting the knobby end of the bat right about now in front of the Senate's Judiciary Committee. As far as political theatre goes, this is burlesque. The doods over at TalkingPoints Memo are providing the best blow-by-blows that I've seen, especially since they've been way out front on this story from the beginning. After just a handful of questions, Sampson's already complicated Gonzo's future testimony hugely. My lockbox prediction - "You Can Call Me Al" Gonzales will be out within a week. On a related level of almost indigestible irony, it doesn't seem that we'll have a chance to see what sort of legal mind Pat Robertson's "law" (wink wink) "school" (nudge nudge) arms a young Bushie with since Monica "(insert your own Lewinsky joke here)" Goodling is taking the Fifth to avoid testifying. Just pile her on the mountain of felonious lackey roadkill in this scandal. And for those Bushie apologists that say this is a political fishing expedition I offer just one counter - with bait like this, who needs to go fishin'.
Dubya just finished the strangest news conference I've seen in many moons. Part of it had to be that the vast field of tough problems and unbelievable missteps that naturally lead to a bazillion snarky White House Press Corps questions. But he's flubbin' and stumblin' more than ever. Including a repeated assertion about Iran's alleged link to weapons found in Iraq being bad even if the Iranian government didn't know about it. And an outright refusal to respond to my earlier planted question about Rove/Fleischer/Armitage's leaking of Valerie Plame's name. I look forward to how the chattering class battles over this moment in the life of the Administration. I think it's a low point. Let me know if you disagree.
For those looking up Maya's progress, it's been a solidish week of flu featuring a few days of hearty barfing. She dealt damn well considering everything, we did approximately 37 loads of laundry, the house got a bit manky, but we've dosed it all in kerosene so it's all just a sensory memory now. More importantly, Maya's back to about 97%. Good thing, too. Tomorrow nite we're heading back to San Francisco for a few days. Should be lovely to revisit some short-lived-but-loved haunts and see some cherished folk. Please check back for pics.
Hope your own follow-ups are unavoidable today. Rock on.
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