Barry "Give me the Cream AND the Clear" Bonds is this morning's biggest sporty story, breaking like an obviously-forecast 30-foot wave over the previously protected shores of Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Face facts, folks - Barry Bonds is a 'roided-out freak, a complete jerk and the sort of controversial clown that Major League Baseball has dreaded owning up to ever since well before Rafael Palmeiro's balls retracted into his unnaturally-trimmed abdomen. I want "BB" out of the game. Seriously. I want him disgraced and shunned by every sports fan across the Globe. My sentence of having to watch this jerk writ disproportionately-large here in San Francisco has been short. But if the new explosive book from the SF Comical's reporters proves true, Bonds is the most cynical, most scandalously self-involved and most short-sighted character in American sports since Dubya ran the always horrible Texas Rangers even deeper into the bedrock. Boot the bastard, Bud (that's "Mr. Selig" to you poor sorority grrrls working the luxury boxes at Miller Park). If Commishioner Bud was a true baseball man and not just a boot-licking lackey, he'd investigate and subsequently shun this jerk before he broke Babe Ruth's home runs mark, much less that of the incomparably-dignified Hank Aaron. Above all, I worry that Bonds' disgraceful past will distract attention away from the obvious and beautiful future consolidation of America's love behind this Season's Brew Crew. I'll assume that you, Humble Reader, haven't been paying attention. But the Brewers are on FIRE! At least in the Spring Training sense of things. This is a team with low costs but showcase showdown value. In comparison, Barry Bonds is an incomparable jerk with total disregard for the game he plays. The Brewers play in Milwaukee, where (according to my nativist sources) our nation's tradition for sports-fandom was founded. Not sure about the attribution, but you should look it up. Regardless, who are you rooting for America? Me thinks Ned Yost's "Ya Dere Boyz!". Or not - it's a free country, after all. Just make sure you don't root for Barry Bonds. He's SUCH a dooshbag.
Too much? Whatever. Hope your own Hall of Fame balloting is unianimous today. Rock on.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
DeLay fiddles while Houston burns
To beat a horse that doesn't yet realize it's dead, Tom DeLay's the dumbest prick on the planet. Most including myself expect he'll win today's Texas Republican Primary election for his formerly safe seat. Yet he may still face a run-off. Not to mention an unimaginably tough race in the Fall. So how does the Hammer plan to spend the day? At a fundraiser in DC with lobbyists Susan Molinari and Bill Paxon. If you're a Republican, how's that thumb in the eye feeling? If you said, "just fine", I want to reassure you that you've got others coming from DeLay. On the Karma bus, Tom DeLay's sitting next to James Frey. Hope one of them remembered to fill a flask.
My favorite post-Oscars stat of the morning - all 5 of the Best Picture nominees combined grossed less than "March of the Penguins". Sarah didn't have much of a warm and fuzzy feeling from renting "Penguins" a ways back, which I sadly missed because of my weekly baby seals clubbing club. With clubs. Am I still typing out loud?
Hope your own grosses are commodius today. Whatever that means. Rock on.
My favorite post-Oscars stat of the morning - all 5 of the Best Picture nominees combined grossed less than "March of the Penguins". Sarah didn't have much of a warm and fuzzy feeling from renting "Penguins" a ways back, which I sadly missed because of my weekly baby seals clubbing club. With clubs. Am I still typing out loud?
Hope your own grosses are commodius today. Whatever that means. Rock on.
Monday, March 06, 2006
My notes from the Oscars, since I'm sure no one else was watching
"Crash" won the Best Picture Oscar last night. In a media-driven spectacle that rarely surprises, this one left buttloads of people breathless. Or angry. Hopefully not at my cheeky "buttloads" half-assed attempt at a joke. As much as I want to comment on the comparison, I'm in a bad position since I haven't yet seen "Crash". Damn. I wanted to get a reach-around joke in that last sentence. Still, as soon as "Crash" comes out on video, I'm all over it. But I'd like to thank the Academy for giving me the opportunity to make light of homophobia by instead invoking racism. And of course I'd like to thank my agent. And my goatee designer. And my Second Grade teacher, Ms. Lindholm, who gave me the courage to be a budding class clown and still be taken seriously when it came to number-writing time.
Sheesh...I have no idea what I'm saying. I made some notes last night while watching the Oscars. I wish some of it was genius. Just like I wished Jon Stewart would be genius. Both of us were middlingly successful. I'd give us both a rating of B-minus. Let me know what you think.
-------------------------------------------------------------
It's Oscar Time, America!
• Ryan “Not even my Wife knows how to ACTUALLY pronounce my name” Phillippe talked on the red carpet of having their 6-year-old at home staying up beyond his/her bedtime “watching Mommy and Daddy on TV” for the first time. They then looked to the wrong camera (even with Billy Bush’s Spielbergian direction) and said hello. They live on the West Coast. That was at approximately 5pm. Those poor kids hate them. No wonder they’re in marriage counseling.
• With TiVo watching my back, I got to watch our fireplace light up the otherwise dark living room while Maya finished a bottle before heading to bed. The hardwood logs crackled with perfectly-timed glee, emitted a crazy stream of gas and collapsed. Maya stole a glance my way while tugging on my ridiculously-long goatee. I got verklempt thinking of spending last Oscar Sunday in the hospital on the day of Maya’s birth watching “Million Dollar Baby” bring home the major awards.
• Dolly Parton is the most altered woman currently alive. And the resemblance to the woman from “Soap” in “Brazil” is striking.
• Those adorable Wilson Brothers. I met their parents at a café in Dallas in 2000 the day after seeing “Shanghai Noon”. Their mom was wearing a denim oxford shirt bearing the film’s name and I struck up a conversation, assuming they might be associated with the famously Dallas-raised Owen and Luke. The ‘rents were cooler than liquid nitrogen. Oooh - icky. The Boys just introduced animated characters for a bit of canned Oscar bunk. I bet the entire Wilson family hit the bar harder than anyone alive afterwards.
• Love how the “small” categories get the “get off the stage” music even BEFORE they start talking.
• Jennifer Aniston named 5 nominees for Costume Design. Our local over-the-top nerdball video store (Le Video on 9th) only had 4 on their Oscar ballot. Remember, you heard it here first.
• They CUT OFF the make-up co-winner! How seriously unfair. Howard Berger (her co-winner) hogged all of their precious seconds by starting in with a lame George Clooney joke. Berger's the biggest douchebag of the evening. Speaking of Clooney jokes - how many Clooneys does it take to screw in a lightbulb? Answer - what's the lightbulb wearing?
• Morgan Freeman’s SOOOO drunk.
• Lauren Bacall makes me sad.
• Charlize Theron’s dress looks like it’s masking a deflated parrot on her shoulder. Great reflective fabric, nonetheless.
• LOVE THE FRENCH DUDES winning for “March of the Penguins” and taking the stage with the stuffed penguins. Immediately thereafter, HATE THE J. LO!
• I just spied U.S. Rep. Edward Markey (D-MA) in the audience. Just thought the World should know.
• Honorary Oscar to Robert Altman presented by Lily Tomlin and Meryl Streep. Silliness as bliss. They both are astonishingly funny. Robert Altman rocks like old school AC/DC. I saw him once at a symposium in Seattle saying that he got his inspiration from smoking pot on this great porch he has. The guy’s more honest than Ghandi. Altman’s acceptance speech is the most brilliant I’ve ever seen.
• Best Acceptance Speech of the Night – Obviously, the Three 6 Mafia for Best Song. Hill-AHR-i-mo-fockin-osity!
• Jennifer Garner’s post-baby boobs almost tripped her up on the way to presenting the Oscar for Sound Editing. Almost.
• Most Real acceptance speech – “Tsosti” dude.
• Was Hillary Swank wearing a painted-on dress? Yes.
• John Travolta’s hair gets weirder every time he’s let out of the Scientologists’ compound. I don’t want to see him again unless there’s a humongo tranquilizer dart in his neck and I’m somewhat assured he won’t make a break for it. Not really sure what that means.
• “CRASH” WON! Boy, do I wish I was in the Castro right now to join in the open rebellion and looting.
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Lots of other stuff in the World worth digging into, but I gotta get down to some real writing. Thanks for reading. Hope your own awards ceremonies today feature glorious swag. Rock on.
Sheesh...I have no idea what I'm saying. I made some notes last night while watching the Oscars. I wish some of it was genius. Just like I wished Jon Stewart would be genius. Both of us were middlingly successful. I'd give us both a rating of B-minus. Let me know what you think.
-------------------------------------------------------------
It's Oscar Time, America!
• Ryan “Not even my Wife knows how to ACTUALLY pronounce my name” Phillippe talked on the red carpet of having their 6-year-old at home staying up beyond his/her bedtime “watching Mommy and Daddy on TV” for the first time. They then looked to the wrong camera (even with Billy Bush’s Spielbergian direction) and said hello. They live on the West Coast. That was at approximately 5pm. Those poor kids hate them. No wonder they’re in marriage counseling.
• With TiVo watching my back, I got to watch our fireplace light up the otherwise dark living room while Maya finished a bottle before heading to bed. The hardwood logs crackled with perfectly-timed glee, emitted a crazy stream of gas and collapsed. Maya stole a glance my way while tugging on my ridiculously-long goatee. I got verklempt thinking of spending last Oscar Sunday in the hospital on the day of Maya’s birth watching “Million Dollar Baby” bring home the major awards.
• Dolly Parton is the most altered woman currently alive. And the resemblance to the woman from “Soap” in “Brazil” is striking.
• Those adorable Wilson Brothers. I met their parents at a café in Dallas in 2000 the day after seeing “Shanghai Noon”. Their mom was wearing a denim oxford shirt bearing the film’s name and I struck up a conversation, assuming they might be associated with the famously Dallas-raised Owen and Luke. The ‘rents were cooler than liquid nitrogen. Oooh - icky. The Boys just introduced animated characters for a bit of canned Oscar bunk. I bet the entire Wilson family hit the bar harder than anyone alive afterwards.
• Love how the “small” categories get the “get off the stage” music even BEFORE they start talking.
• Jennifer Aniston named 5 nominees for Costume Design. Our local over-the-top nerdball video store (Le Video on 9th) only had 4 on their Oscar ballot. Remember, you heard it here first.
• They CUT OFF the make-up co-winner! How seriously unfair. Howard Berger (her co-winner) hogged all of their precious seconds by starting in with a lame George Clooney joke. Berger's the biggest douchebag of the evening. Speaking of Clooney jokes - how many Clooneys does it take to screw in a lightbulb? Answer - what's the lightbulb wearing?
• Morgan Freeman’s SOOOO drunk.
• Lauren Bacall makes me sad.
• Charlize Theron’s dress looks like it’s masking a deflated parrot on her shoulder. Great reflective fabric, nonetheless.
• LOVE THE FRENCH DUDES winning for “March of the Penguins” and taking the stage with the stuffed penguins. Immediately thereafter, HATE THE J. LO!
• I just spied U.S. Rep. Edward Markey (D-MA) in the audience. Just thought the World should know.
• Honorary Oscar to Robert Altman presented by Lily Tomlin and Meryl Streep. Silliness as bliss. They both are astonishingly funny. Robert Altman rocks like old school AC/DC. I saw him once at a symposium in Seattle saying that he got his inspiration from smoking pot on this great porch he has. The guy’s more honest than Ghandi. Altman’s acceptance speech is the most brilliant I’ve ever seen.
• Best Acceptance Speech of the Night – Obviously, the Three 6 Mafia for Best Song. Hill-AHR-i-mo-fockin-osity!
• Jennifer Garner’s post-baby boobs almost tripped her up on the way to presenting the Oscar for Sound Editing. Almost.
• Most Real acceptance speech – “Tsosti” dude.
• Was Hillary Swank wearing a painted-on dress? Yes.
• John Travolta’s hair gets weirder every time he’s let out of the Scientologists’ compound. I don’t want to see him again unless there’s a humongo tranquilizer dart in his neck and I’m somewhat assured he won’t make a break for it. Not really sure what that means.
• “CRASH” WON! Boy, do I wish I was in the Castro right now to join in the open rebellion and looting.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Lots of other stuff in the World worth digging into, but I gotta get down to some real writing. Thanks for reading. Hope your own awards ceremonies today feature glorious swag. Rock on.
Friday, March 03, 2006
Deciphering the benchmarks as we stumble our way into Year Two of Parenthood
Like most parents, we decided to get Maya a series of immunizations and a dollop of pediatrician-delivered guilt right after her First Birthday. Maybe that's a bit of an overstatement. Our pediatrician's a good doc. Smart woman. Sarah appreciates her suggestions. But I always leave feeling like we've been keeping Maya in the crawlspace under the stairs and occasionally poking her with hot sticks. As if. I've NEVER heated up one of those pokey sticks and it's less of a crawlspace and more of a pile of Costco goods. But I'll let y'all judge for yourself how Maya looks with the latest Tale o' the Tape:
Height - 29 1/2 inches
Weight - 22 pounds, 10 oz.
Headsize - not measured, but she's around a 4 and a 1/2, if you're ordering her this season's Brew Crew hats. Actually, make that 7 and 5/8ths - she prefers to wear my hats. And, yes, that's my noggin size these days - damn you syphillus!
Hemoglobin, or hobogoblins, or the helloGollum mark - 12.9 (the East German judge terribly underscored her @ 11.6) If you know what these numbers mean, your next appointment is waiting, Doctor.
As we were reassured, Maya's cranking on the development curve. Doing handstands and juggling (4 balls!) helped pad her scores. But apparently we're not forcing her to choke down enough fresh fruit or broccoli or dirt or, um, petroleum products...I kinda zoned out after trying to discern what effects all the lead paint chips that I've been mixing into her yogurt might have on her development. In all seriousness, she's doing great by all measures. And while getting her immunizations including a few extra for our trip to Mexico in May, Maya only ripped one tiny artery from Sarah's neck. So her fine motor skills are advanced, and she doesn't freak out at the sight of copious bloodflow. DoubleBonus!
Time to move onto some other things. I'll respect the ludicrously conceived chestnut of "don't criticize the Prezidunt while he/she is abroad (no pun intended, ladies)" by waiting until next week to call Dubya's trip to Asia a vapid boondoggle staged by retarded monkeys. Because I respect the office, doncha know. I'm sure you'll want to check back for that. Hope your own goodwill tours today take you to places other than consignment shops. Rock on.
Height - 29 1/2 inches
Weight - 22 pounds, 10 oz.
Headsize - not measured, but she's around a 4 and a 1/2, if you're ordering her this season's Brew Crew hats. Actually, make that 7 and 5/8ths - she prefers to wear my hats. And, yes, that's my noggin size these days - damn you syphillus!
Hemoglobin, or hobogoblins, or the helloGollum mark - 12.9 (the East German judge terribly underscored her @ 11.6) If you know what these numbers mean, your next appointment is waiting, Doctor.
As we were reassured, Maya's cranking on the development curve. Doing handstands and juggling (4 balls!) helped pad her scores. But apparently we're not forcing her to choke down enough fresh fruit or broccoli or dirt or, um, petroleum products...I kinda zoned out after trying to discern what effects all the lead paint chips that I've been mixing into her yogurt might have on her development. In all seriousness, she's doing great by all measures. And while getting her immunizations including a few extra for our trip to Mexico in May, Maya only ripped one tiny artery from Sarah's neck. So her fine motor skills are advanced, and she doesn't freak out at the sight of copious bloodflow. DoubleBonus!
Time to move onto some other things. I'll respect the ludicrously conceived chestnut of "don't criticize the Prezidunt while he/she is abroad (no pun intended, ladies)" by waiting until next week to call Dubya's trip to Asia a vapid boondoggle staged by retarded monkeys. Because I respect the office, doncha know. I'm sure you'll want to check back for that. Hope your own goodwill tours today take you to places other than consignment shops. Rock on.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
You're calling this a "surprise visit"? You CANNOT BE SERIOUS!
In typical fashion, the Bushies are wedging their asses into the headlines this morning by saying that Dubya chose to make a "surprise visit" to Afghanistan on his way to India. That's like claiming "yea, I was headed to a Yale alumni reunion but decided at the last minute to stop off at Mineral State Junior College new student mixer". Can the Bushies and the sychophantic media please call THIS one straight, puuu-leeeze?! As I heard half-emphaized on "Morning Edition" this morning, the Bushies have been planning this for 8 weeks. The only "surprise" in all of this is that no one bombed the crap out of the grandstands during the photo-op, which reside in the only well-defended city block within hundreds of thousands of square miles of shitestorm. Ya wanna real "SURPRISE!" - try landing Air Force One at Baghdad Airport these days. But unlike the Bushies, I'm going to go out on a limb here - this trip to Central and Southern Asia will end in another "surprise" announcement about, um, "noo-q-ler" proliferation or the "Warrer on Terr". And you've all got permission to leak to all your secret media contacts that you heard it here first.
But my real subject this morning before I try to do some actual work is to plant a seed of a future story that I hope will draw you back. Namely, I got a telemarketing call yesterday from a scandalously-concealed Mormon charity that briefly raised my temperature to an unhealthy degree. Here's just a taste....
Just after I did the hand-off with our actor/nanny Megan and began to settle into playing with Maya's new Birthday toys, the phone rang and the greeting I received was, "may I speak to the LADY of the house (my emphasis added)". As Sarah and every other person on the Planet that knows me will testify, I'm a complete bee-yatch when it comes to unwelcome telemarketing or piss-poor customer service that impedes our otherwise decent lives. Yet aside from the 1950s manner of address, this call set a new standard of deceptive, incompetent and misinformed stupidity. It was from "The Dove Foundation", an organization looking to poll me and solicit donations to promote "wholesome family entertainment". Don't Google them - I'm already giving them more hits in my initial research than they will ever actually deserve.
In all seriousness without totally showing my hand, I think I've got a live story on the line here. Please check back. Seriously. This one's a stinker. Hope your own stories are well-sourced and utterly legit today. Rock on.
But my real subject this morning before I try to do some actual work is to plant a seed of a future story that I hope will draw you back. Namely, I got a telemarketing call yesterday from a scandalously-concealed Mormon charity that briefly raised my temperature to an unhealthy degree. Here's just a taste....
Just after I did the hand-off with our actor/nanny Megan and began to settle into playing with Maya's new Birthday toys, the phone rang and the greeting I received was, "may I speak to the LADY of the house (my emphasis added)". As Sarah and every other person on the Planet that knows me will testify, I'm a complete bee-yatch when it comes to unwelcome telemarketing or piss-poor customer service that impedes our otherwise decent lives. Yet aside from the 1950s manner of address, this call set a new standard of deceptive, incompetent and misinformed stupidity. It was from "The Dove Foundation", an organization looking to poll me and solicit donations to promote "wholesome family entertainment". Don't Google them - I'm already giving them more hits in my initial research than they will ever actually deserve.
In all seriousness without totally showing my hand, I think I've got a live story on the line here. Please check back. Seriously. This one's a stinker. Hope your own stories are well-sourced and utterly legit today. Rock on.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
"And please don't forget that the American people know that .340 would be a very respectable batting average, especially for the Texas Rangers."
Today's least-worthy story - Anna Nicole Smith "appearing" before the Supreme Court. I'm just speculating here, but I'd be willing to bet that Clarence Thomas had trouble sleeping last night in anxious anticipation of this sordid spectacle.
Today's most-worthy story - the WashingtonPost taking the time to visit the Baghdad morgue and see that over 1300 people have been killed in sectarian violence there since last Wednesday. 1300 dead in one week! If they were quail, that wouldn't merit discussion. But they're people. Un-buh-leave-able.
I haven't yet seen how the Bushies have downplayed the Coast Guard concerns about the Dubai Ports World deal to handle our security. But I'm willing to bet that the alleged anti-Israeli stance of this company that is just beginning to get ink will add considerable heat to the stinkpot. Imagine the absurdity of Dubya nixing this deal after the sure-to-be-half-assed 45-day review. Stir that around for a bit. Enjoy.
If ever the Bushies "don't pay attention to the polls", today's THAT day. Dubya hit a 34% approval rating in the CBS-NYTimes assessment. After just a bit of searching, I see that Carter hit a low of 26% and Nixon bottomed at 24%. Expect to hear those comparisons much more often in the days ahead. I'm sure Scotty "We Need More Power, Cap'n!" McClellan's already got some Rovian spin geared up like, "Prezidunts often go through periodic downturns in their popularity while working hard for the American people."
Speaking of polling the Bushies won't listen to, Zogby offers numbers this morning taken directly from the ranks of the military. 72% think the U.S. should leave Iraq within the next year. 29% say we should leave IMMEDIATELY. As someone who's sick-to-death of the bromide that I should "support our troops" and that Dubya prefers to "listen to the commanders on the ground", I certainly hope someone in DC takes their jingoism to heart. The Bushies approach to this continuing debacle is as absurd as the heavily-favored Indianapolis Colts losing in the NFL Playoffs but still showing up at the Super Bowl expecting that the fans will prefer them to the teams lined up for the kick-off. If you don't think this is a civil war, read the piece mentioned above from today's WashingtonPost. Face it people - we've lost a war of our own choosing. We've been humiliated and our military is radically weakened by that folly. If you disagree with that, please let me know why. And try to back it up with facts. I dare you.
But not all's strictly bad newzy in the World today. It's Jack Abramoff's Birthday (he's 48). There's just two days until the soon-to-be-again-beloved Milwaukee Brewers' first Spring Training game. And the Earth is still orbitting around the sun. Except in Kansas - there it's still just a theory. Hope your own list of positives mightily outweigh the negatives today. Rock on.
Today's most-worthy story - the WashingtonPost taking the time to visit the Baghdad morgue and see that over 1300 people have been killed in sectarian violence there since last Wednesday. 1300 dead in one week! If they were quail, that wouldn't merit discussion. But they're people. Un-buh-leave-able.
I haven't yet seen how the Bushies have downplayed the Coast Guard concerns about the Dubai Ports World deal to handle our security. But I'm willing to bet that the alleged anti-Israeli stance of this company that is just beginning to get ink will add considerable heat to the stinkpot. Imagine the absurdity of Dubya nixing this deal after the sure-to-be-half-assed 45-day review. Stir that around for a bit. Enjoy.
If ever the Bushies "don't pay attention to the polls", today's THAT day. Dubya hit a 34% approval rating in the CBS-NYTimes assessment. After just a bit of searching, I see that Carter hit a low of 26% and Nixon bottomed at 24%. Expect to hear those comparisons much more often in the days ahead. I'm sure Scotty "We Need More Power, Cap'n!" McClellan's already got some Rovian spin geared up like, "Prezidunts often go through periodic downturns in their popularity while working hard for the American people."
Speaking of polling the Bushies won't listen to, Zogby offers numbers this morning taken directly from the ranks of the military. 72% think the U.S. should leave Iraq within the next year. 29% say we should leave IMMEDIATELY. As someone who's sick-to-death of the bromide that I should "support our troops" and that Dubya prefers to "listen to the commanders on the ground", I certainly hope someone in DC takes their jingoism to heart. The Bushies approach to this continuing debacle is as absurd as the heavily-favored Indianapolis Colts losing in the NFL Playoffs but still showing up at the Super Bowl expecting that the fans will prefer them to the teams lined up for the kick-off. If you don't think this is a civil war, read the piece mentioned above from today's WashingtonPost. Face it people - we've lost a war of our own choosing. We've been humiliated and our military is radically weakened by that folly. If you disagree with that, please let me know why. And try to back it up with facts. I dare you.
But not all's strictly bad newzy in the World today. It's Jack Abramoff's Birthday (he's 48). There's just two days until the soon-to-be-again-beloved Milwaukee Brewers' first Spring Training game. And the Earth is still orbitting around the sun. Except in Kansas - there it's still just a theory. Hope your own list of positives mightily outweigh the negatives today. Rock on.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Mayapalooza, Year One, exceeds all our expectations
On a weekend when the entire Nation was gripped by Don Knotts tributes and Ice Dancing withdrawal, we got to revel in a collective, extended celebration of Maya's First Birthday. Family and friends joined us yesterday for Maya's Party that we moved inside from the previously-planned location in Golden Gate Park when Hurricane Katrina appeared to be closing in on the Bay Area. Whatever the locale, Maya was as happy as Bill Clinton at an all-you-can-eat topless Mardi Gras buffet. Cool kids to play with. Loads of wrapping paper to dismantle. A couple of cupcakes to smear all over her growing-up-so-fast face. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that it was a rockin' bash. And then she went down for a hearty food-coma nap while most of the adults and a few of the kids continued to sing her praises. We couldn't have been happier about the turnout and outpouring of MayaLove.
But actually, today is Maya's Birthday. No party planned, just loads of noo-q-ler family hugs in between attempting to stack her passel of new toys in our shrinking and increasingly Crayola-tinged pad. Nonetheless, I think Maya's had a great day thus far. She got up early. Took what I can only describe second-hand as a satisfying dump. Munched on most of her new toys. Ate a hearty breakfast. Got out for a jog in the Park. Took another dump. And now she's down for a nap after a filling lunch. Since I praise her countless wonders on an almost daily basis, I'll leave it at that. Year One with her was a hoot. Can't wait for what's next. Thanks to everyone who's sent along their Birthday wishes. Maya says, and I quote, "ah bah da da oh oh (nummy sound)". Which means she loves y'all, too. Rock on.
But actually, today is Maya's Birthday. No party planned, just loads of noo-q-ler family hugs in between attempting to stack her passel of new toys in our shrinking and increasingly Crayola-tinged pad. Nonetheless, I think Maya's had a great day thus far. She got up early. Took what I can only describe second-hand as a satisfying dump. Munched on most of her new toys. Ate a hearty breakfast. Got out for a jog in the Park. Took another dump. And now she's down for a nap after a filling lunch. Since I praise her countless wonders on an almost daily basis, I'll leave it at that. Year One with her was a hoot. Can't wait for what's next. Thanks to everyone who's sent along their Birthday wishes. Maya says, and I quote, "ah bah da da oh oh (nummy sound)". Which means she loves y'all, too. Rock on.
Stella explains to Maya that Barbie's body image was created by marketing gurus back in the 50s. Maya reacted by liking Barbie's pretty blouse.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Showing the World how we begin every day with a jumpball...
With Iraq further descending into widely-forecast chaos and our collective American tittie in a relentless twister, I'm sure many of us are like poor young petite skinny rich famous traditionally-attractive Sasha Cohen today. We vaguely need a pick-me-up. A post-elite-clubbing dust-me-off. A spa treatment and champagne enema hug before starting all over again trying to rake in endorsements. But before doing so, I have to point to the preponderance of irrelevance that topped Google News this morning. If you haven't read the news yet today, don't bother. Unless Bradgelina or Bennifer drop trou in front of a live TV audience, you ain't missing nothin' if you just peruse the comics and read your horoscope. Cases in point...
1. iTunes just passed a Billion songs sold. I've not bought one yet. So this can't be true.
2. Ice skating is the biggest draw in the Winter Olympics. Yet travelling minstrel shows like "Disney on Ice" are routinely chased from cities by angry mobs. Where does that disconnect come from?
3. South Dakota is now officially the State where you are least likely to get laid. But boy is North Dakota looking like Cancun in comparison, eh?
4. Beavers. Apparently, they're way older than we thought. I, for one, am not surprised.
5. John Bolton "invited" the UN Security Council to join him at a Knicks game to see "everyday America". I imagine a night out with Bolton would make a force-feeding and firehose shower at Guantanomo look like a spa treatment. Talk about torture.
See what I mean? Interminable crap. We're SOOOO waiting for the other shoe to drop as a Nation if this is the junk we're being fed as news with all that's upending itself in the World currently. So if I were to put money down on, say, the date and time of an alien invasion, I'd pick right about...now. Hope your own bets pay off mightily regardless. Rock on.
1. iTunes just passed a Billion songs sold. I've not bought one yet. So this can't be true.
2. Ice skating is the biggest draw in the Winter Olympics. Yet travelling minstrel shows like "Disney on Ice" are routinely chased from cities by angry mobs. Where does that disconnect come from?
3. South Dakota is now officially the State where you are least likely to get laid. But boy is North Dakota looking like Cancun in comparison, eh?
4. Beavers. Apparently, they're way older than we thought. I, for one, am not surprised.
5. John Bolton "invited" the UN Security Council to join him at a Knicks game to see "everyday America". I imagine a night out with Bolton would make a force-feeding and firehose shower at Guantanomo look like a spa treatment. Talk about torture.
See what I mean? Interminable crap. We're SOOOO waiting for the other shoe to drop as a Nation if this is the junk we're being fed as news with all that's upending itself in the World currently. So if I were to put money down on, say, the date and time of an alien invasion, I'd pick right about...now. Hope your own bets pay off mightily regardless. Rock on.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
"What Went Right" # 27 - Emeril actually stopped saying "Bam!" for approximately 72 hours.
This whole Dubai Ports deal story is like newsy crack. Everyone's pickin' up the habit. I must honestly say that I think this story is a dog. Yet since nobody can resist piling onto this scrum, I've also got my favorite overwrought bits to mention. Such as the Sludge Report offering up a conspiracy story that says there was a "secret deal between DP World and the White House". And the Dems bubbling over with glee that they can play the same "9/11 changed everything" games of pointing fingers at everyone to gain political advantage (to paraphrase Stuart Smalley, "when you point a finger at someone, there are 3 more pointing right back at you,"). Whatever happens with this DP World deal, the Bushies will get slammed. They've got no out. Approve the deal and they look careless, deny the deal and the World sees Dubya as a vastly weakened powerplayer forced into anti-Arab capitulation. It's a lose-lose situation.
Set aside the Ports story, and you're still left with a White House totally flummoxed by Cheney's recent shooting mess, the terrifying fact of Iraq's escalating sectarian violence, a totally-downplayed Bushies' Katrina report (including a 19-page section titled "What Went Right"), and less heat from the Winter Olympics than that of a 40-watt bulb. So there's not much good newziness out there, no matter your political persuasion. Thankfully, I live in a beautiful city on a beautiful day with some time at hand to work on stories of my own creation. Hope your own day's content is worth smiling about. Rock on.
Set aside the Ports story, and you're still left with a White House totally flummoxed by Cheney's recent shooting mess, the terrifying fact of Iraq's escalating sectarian violence, a totally-downplayed Bushies' Katrina report (including a 19-page section titled "What Went Right"), and less heat from the Winter Olympics than that of a 40-watt bulb. So there's not much good newziness out there, no matter your political persuasion. Thankfully, I live in a beautiful city on a beautiful day with some time at hand to work on stories of my own creation. Hope your own day's content is worth smiling about. Rock on.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
The Bushies "made sure"...so what's the problem?
I'm not incensed like a standard GOP attack monkey by the argument over selling 6 American cities down the river of questionable Port security to that United Arab Emirates firm. The Bushies tried to spin us all this morning that Dubya "made sure" everything's proper with this silly deal. But this morning's denial from Scotty "Why is everyone so mean to me?" McClellan that Dubya knew nothing of this $6.8 BILLION sale under review by the Defense and Homeland Security departments until they'd approved its passage is causing major league mid-term election hives, I'm sure. The logical question is what they ACTUALLY brief Dubya on. Aside from that implicit absurdity, this whole issue sounds like a crock to me. Foreign companies have their hands on the throat of many important aspects of American security. Still - this teapot tempest convinces me that, 1) the Bushies no longer worry about outsourcing the running of the asylum to the really crazy mo-fos. And, 2) they've lost any grip on the commonly-held views of the "American People" they so often love to quote. Do I trust the UAE-aneese? Probably. Do the typically insensitive, paranoid members of Dubya's inner circle trust them? Shockingly, yes. Yet the many figures with regular access to TV cameras ("Senator Doctor Frist - your stand-up is ready...") are the ones to watch on this story. THE question left to be answered is "why are the Bushies allowing this to happen?" - is it this Dubai company's alleged connection with Treasury Secretary John Snow or the undeniable connection with Dubya appointee, David Sanborn (not the crappy saxophonist, to the best of my knowledge), that's got folks worried? As usual, I'm amazed that this story's legs seem stronger than that of the Veep shooting a man in the face or a GOP media faker being a gay prostitute. But if I've learned anything by living in California, it's to surf the wave rather than to let the wave surf you. Dude. However you slice this salami, no Bushie is going to look smart by letting us farm out our port security to the Middle East. I'd love to see Mary Matalin give it a shot after her monstrously bad performance on "Meet the Press" this past Sunday. Come to think of it, maybe that's what the Bushies need - shoot someone from the UAE in the face. Have them apologize. All is forgiven. Kapeesh?
Maya's First Birthday Party is coming up this weekend. We've been having lots of fun trying to dissect her new vocal sounds and increasingly balanced command of the upright World of pre-walking. She's so frickin' cute. Will she have new tricks for her fans on the Anniversary of Her Birth? Maybe. Expect all the updates herein thereafter. Hope all your own passed signposts are major ones today. Rock on.
Maya's First Birthday Party is coming up this weekend. We've been having lots of fun trying to dissect her new vocal sounds and increasingly balanced command of the upright World of pre-walking. She's so frickin' cute. Will she have new tricks for her fans on the Anniversary of Her Birth? Maybe. Expect all the updates herein thereafter. Hope all your own passed signposts are major ones today. Rock on.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Friday, February 17, 2006
"And I'd like to personally apologize to Vice President Cheney for ruining what I'm sure would have been a wonderful Happy Hour."
Not much surprise in the DC Press sitting back on their haunches. Still, I'm amazed that the Rove machine for the Bushies ran Quailgate farther down the "blame the victim" road than ever before in the history of mankind. Whittington just got out of the hospital, but before doing so gave a presser. They gave him an extra layer of mortuary make-up. And one main talking point - Big Dick is blameless. Which he repeated like the loyalest of loyalists. So history must now chew on and taste the moment when the man the Veep shot in the face apologized for what the Cheney family had to go through while he was in the hospital for six days. I don't even want to bring up the whole "heart attack and risk of other trauma due to unrecoverable birdshot near other internal organs" or "shot through many layers of clothing and in such a configuration as to suggest a blast within 20 feet" liberal conspiracies. Even though they're pretty compelling. Nope, the gutless few in control of the big press organs out there leave us with the remote-as-Pluto chance of someone from the Armstrong Ranch episode actually telling the truth. I still expect all those freaky "CSI:" fans out there to pick this carcass apart for the real story. They've gotta be up to something aside from the handful of wasted hours watching all those pseudo-real forensics shows. I'll keep an eye out for what I'm sure will inevitably rise to the surface.
We've been keeping our eye on the Winter Olympics, which everyone seems to agree are largely a bummer for Americans unless they're really stoned and/or really into snowboarding. Personally, I love the over-the-top circus performer gayness of the outfits in figure skating. On fast forward, but I still love it. Oh wait, am I still typing out loud? Anyhoo, I did pay attention to Hanna Teter on Letterman being the coolest 19-year-old on the planet (SNAP! to all you bitches in the Lohan crew). And Seth Westcott winning that crack-up fest moronically misnamed "snowboard cross" was the only compelling competition thus far. The horrible "its like NASCAR on snow" or "its like a cross between NASCAR and Roller Derby" or "its like NASCAR on acid on ice, like the frozen water kind" sportcasty-lexicon cliches have been stuck on this sport by every over-30 talky dooshbag like so many bad "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" stickers on St. Patty's Day. Maybe once hockey gets underway we'll see some stories for the Americans. Even though the entire hockey tourney will be centered on Team Canada and whether Janet Jones puts much down on the medal round. Speaking of which - great piece in "Sports Illustrated" this week on the NHL gambling ring that Janet Jones has been implicated in using to put down some pretty hefty action. Including Five Grand on the cointoss in the Super Bowl. Only people with SERIOUS problems put anything more than 20 bucks on the cointoss. Maybe fiddy with family. I had a lustful connection with Janet Jones way back during her brief window of movie stardom ("American Anthem" anyone?). But I somehow think I don't really know her anymore.
For all you music geeks, two CDs on my heavy rotation the last few days are The Decemberists ("Picaresque") and the new Belle and Sebastian. Entirely different constructions - the theatricality of The Decemberists amazing sound cracks me up and the surprising Brit Pop from Belle and Sebastian sounds like a varied, chunky, full of smart-drugs Beatles progeny. Very interesting discs by very interesting groups. Highly recommended.
We're down to week until Maya's First Birthday. Party in the Park, lots of fun to come. I'd love to rent an elephant. But then I suppose I'd need to rent something for Maya. Kids can be so demanding. Hope you own upcoming social calendar is filled with "No gifts, please" free-foodies. Rock on.
We've been keeping our eye on the Winter Olympics, which everyone seems to agree are largely a bummer for Americans unless they're really stoned and/or really into snowboarding. Personally, I love the over-the-top circus performer gayness of the outfits in figure skating. On fast forward, but I still love it. Oh wait, am I still typing out loud? Anyhoo, I did pay attention to Hanna Teter on Letterman being the coolest 19-year-old on the planet (SNAP! to all you bitches in the Lohan crew). And Seth Westcott winning that crack-up fest moronically misnamed "snowboard cross" was the only compelling competition thus far. The horrible "its like NASCAR on snow" or "its like a cross between NASCAR and Roller Derby" or "its like NASCAR on acid on ice, like the frozen water kind" sportcasty-lexicon cliches have been stuck on this sport by every over-30 talky dooshbag like so many bad "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" stickers on St. Patty's Day. Maybe once hockey gets underway we'll see some stories for the Americans. Even though the entire hockey tourney will be centered on Team Canada and whether Janet Jones puts much down on the medal round. Speaking of which - great piece in "Sports Illustrated" this week on the NHL gambling ring that Janet Jones has been implicated in using to put down some pretty hefty action. Including Five Grand on the cointoss in the Super Bowl. Only people with SERIOUS problems put anything more than 20 bucks on the cointoss. Maybe fiddy with family. I had a lustful connection with Janet Jones way back during her brief window of movie stardom ("American Anthem" anyone?). But I somehow think I don't really know her anymore.
For all you music geeks, two CDs on my heavy rotation the last few days are The Decemberists ("Picaresque") and the new Belle and Sebastian. Entirely different constructions - the theatricality of The Decemberists amazing sound cracks me up and the surprising Brit Pop from Belle and Sebastian sounds like a varied, chunky, full of smart-drugs Beatles progeny. Very interesting discs by very interesting groups. Highly recommended.
We're down to week until Maya's First Birthday. Party in the Park, lots of fun to come. I'd love to rent an elephant. But then I suppose I'd need to rent something for Maya. Kids can be so demanding. Hope you own upcoming social calendar is filled with "No gifts, please" free-foodies. Rock on.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
If only the Bushies were just full of snot...
Cheney is the only story today. Sure, there's lots of stuff that should be Page 1, Above the Fold. Like the U.S. and Israel trying to undermine a democratically-elected government in the Middle East. Or the U.S. having loads of trouble getting it's groove on in Torino - if we can only pull off snowboarding and speedskating medals, we're so screwed. Not to mention the dangerous swells forming from Katrina once again as the Bushies claim they've got a plan to elimate the lack of planning we've seen previously. Sorry, none of that crap has a strong-enough aroma to overpower the stench from the Veep shooting an old guy in the face and then trying to sit on the story. This story only gets funnier as the moments tick by and the Bushies' plan to joke about it backfires repeatedly.
My favorite early update was Scott McClellan acting like a complete punk bee-yahtch at this morning's White House presser. "Atomic Wedgie Recipient" Scotty tried to start in with the jokey-jokey about everyone's University of Texas burnt orange not being worn out of fear of being shot (IN THE FACE!) by Cheney. Groan. It took about 13 seconds for the Press to once again recognize the blood in the water and circle menacingly. I haven't seen the replays yet, but it sounds like "Half as Smart as Ari" Scotty left the Briefing Room in a tiff. Until we see Counselor Whittington's injuries, this story only grows. After that, it might explode. Seeing the Bushies blame each other for the delay in reporting the shooting is especially intriguing and ironic. Yet, all the while, the theatre of the absurd's longest running production sees its run extended.
Good news and bad newz in Maya's world this morning. I'll go good news first - she started to consistently clap her hands on command yesterday. Big props to Megan for working on that one. Maya's previous "good doggy!" trick (the High Five) was losing it's uniqueness, so we're psyched. But for the bad newz - she's got a cold. Snot, goofy sneezes, a low-down gurgly sound - she's got the standard mix. It came on late yesterday and is in fuller bloom this morning. Luckily, she has no idea what ails her and it's not so bad on the spectrum of such afflictions, speaking as the person who infected her. Hope you own diseases are no longer communicable. Rock on.
My favorite early update was Scott McClellan acting like a complete punk bee-yahtch at this morning's White House presser. "Atomic Wedgie Recipient" Scotty tried to start in with the jokey-jokey about everyone's University of Texas burnt orange not being worn out of fear of being shot (IN THE FACE!) by Cheney. Groan. It took about 13 seconds for the Press to once again recognize the blood in the water and circle menacingly. I haven't seen the replays yet, but it sounds like "Half as Smart as Ari" Scotty left the Briefing Room in a tiff. Until we see Counselor Whittington's injuries, this story only grows. After that, it might explode. Seeing the Bushies blame each other for the delay in reporting the shooting is especially intriguing and ironic. Yet, all the while, the theatre of the absurd's longest running production sees its run extended.
Good news and bad newz in Maya's world this morning. I'll go good news first - she started to consistently clap her hands on command yesterday. Big props to Megan for working on that one. Maya's previous "good doggy!" trick (the High Five) was losing it's uniqueness, so we're psyched. But for the bad newz - she's got a cold. Snot, goofy sneezes, a low-down gurgly sound - she's got the standard mix. It came on late yesterday and is in fuller bloom this morning. Luckily, she has no idea what ails her and it's not so bad on the spectrum of such afflictions, speaking as the person who infected her. Hope you own diseases are no longer communicable. Rock on.
Monday, February 13, 2006
No big deal - Cheney only winged him. But like in the head and chest.
Everyone's doing their best to snicker at the story of Dick "Big Time!" Cheney shooting that 78-year-old guy in the face. A hunting accident. The Dark Lord blowing off some steam with some Texas contributer fat cats. The inevitable downplaying of being shot in the face, neck and chest by a 28-gauge shotgun from 30 feet away. This sort of comedy writes itself. I think Al Franken has done it up especially well by positing Cheney and Dubya hunting together. You just need to read it yourself. Instant classic. But from my point of view, I still can't get over the anecdote of Cheney shooting a guy in the face. Think about it - Cheney fired an errant shot with a weapon that can surely kill a man, not taking the time to see what he was shooting at or what might get hurt if he tried to go for it. Anybody who's ever hunted (and I grew up in Wisconsin doing so) should take from this that Cheney's a dangerous sumbitch. History simply MUST use this accident as a Freudian slip to show the inner Overlord at his most devastating and real. He may talk a good game. But Cheney's obviously NOT the guy to look to in a fight, whether with farm-raised-for-the-slaughter quail or the entire Muslim World. He's the guy to run away from before it's too late.
My appreciation of gallows humor inspires me to keep an eye out for any pics taken of Counselor Whittington to go along with all the "who is this not-at-all-sexy GOP contributer?" stories getting ink this morning. This poor doofus already looks like he's covered in funeral parlor make-up.
Maya's got a new Radio Flyer walker-wagonish contraption over the weekend. There's not much in the way of steering possibilities and our teeny apartment doesn't give her much more than a short runway. You just kinda latch the kid on and hope they don't lean so far forward that they faceplant. Maya leans in too much unless you hold either her or the wagon back a bit. But if you let her go, it's amazing to see that she'll hold on to the very end. We need to take her outside and just let her cruise down a few blocks of sidewalk. Which makes me think that there should be toddler sizes of kneepads.
Anyhoo, time to get some real work done. Hope your own tangents are quickly redirected today. Rock on.
My appreciation of gallows humor inspires me to keep an eye out for any pics taken of Counselor Whittington to go along with all the "who is this not-at-all-sexy GOP contributer?" stories getting ink this morning. This poor doofus already looks like he's covered in funeral parlor make-up.
Maya's got a new Radio Flyer walker-wagonish contraption over the weekend. There's not much in the way of steering possibilities and our teeny apartment doesn't give her much more than a short runway. You just kinda latch the kid on and hope they don't lean so far forward that they faceplant. Maya leans in too much unless you hold either her or the wagon back a bit. But if you let her go, it's amazing to see that she'll hold on to the very end. We need to take her outside and just let her cruise down a few blocks of sidewalk. Which makes me think that there should be toddler sizes of kneepads.
Anyhoo, time to get some real work done. Hope your own tangents are quickly redirected today. Rock on.
Friday, February 10, 2006
"See, these terrorists. Well, they hate your Liberty, too."
Michael "Heckuva Job!" Brown gave all of the DC press corps a caffeine enema this morning. And reports have surfaced detailing how the Bushies were given the chance to quash his testimony using the argument of executive privilege. Of all people, Harriet Miers declined to stop Brownie from testifying. I haven't seen the video yet, but his confrontation with Norm "Son of a" Coleman sounds like a stunner. Brownie will be accused by the Bushies of trying to push blame back up the pipe to those above. That would typically fly, given that Brownie's obviously a wackjob. This time, however, I don't think it's gonna work when you look at what else is out there. The NYTimes went large this morning with a bundle of email records showing that the Bushies knew of the levee breaches MUCH earlier than they have claimed. Dubya may not have known. But his Chief of Staff (Andy Card) definitely knew. Gulp. If you're a GOP attack monkey - DoubleGulp. Expect plenty of traction on this story as we slam into the weekend with only the Winter Olympics to cushion our media's post-NFL detox.
Right from the start yesterday, Dubya talkin' up the so-called "Liberty Tower" plot in LA bothered me. I don't know LA all that well, certainly not downtown. But it's the Library Tower, and the timing of this disclosure in a speech to the National Guard smelled like leftover lutefisk. WAY fishy. Keith Olberman knocked the stuffing out of that disclosure - entirely worth the streamed minutes to watch it for the insight offered in a great set-up and concluding interview with Gerald Posner. Like everything else from the Bushies when it comes to their War on Terror, require verification. This alleged plot was the wrong modus operandi, the wrong timing and the wrong coordination for al Qaeda. Not to dwell too long, but Dubya was even dumb enough to require correction from his Staff on the actual target he described in the speech. He's always been a moron, but his once-feared Staff is now so clumsy. Could be a long three-years for some of those tools. Looks like one chap's been fired already this week - in this case maybe for getting Dubya in front of that Coretta Scott King memorial. Stay tuned for all the greasy details.
Maya didn't take too kindly to Collette this morning, even though it didn't seem to faze Collette at all. Maya's definitely a little clingy on such occasions. She's a strong little monkey so I'm not immune to getting a few dings from the handoff. Hope your own day is bruise-free. Rock on.
Right from the start yesterday, Dubya talkin' up the so-called "Liberty Tower" plot in LA bothered me. I don't know LA all that well, certainly not downtown. But it's the Library Tower, and the timing of this disclosure in a speech to the National Guard smelled like leftover lutefisk. WAY fishy. Keith Olberman knocked the stuffing out of that disclosure - entirely worth the streamed minutes to watch it for the insight offered in a great set-up and concluding interview with Gerald Posner. Like everything else from the Bushies when it comes to their War on Terror, require verification. This alleged plot was the wrong modus operandi, the wrong timing and the wrong coordination for al Qaeda. Not to dwell too long, but Dubya was even dumb enough to require correction from his Staff on the actual target he described in the speech. He's always been a moron, but his once-feared Staff is now so clumsy. Could be a long three-years for some of those tools. Looks like one chap's been fired already this week - in this case maybe for getting Dubya in front of that Coretta Scott King memorial. Stay tuned for all the greasy details.
Maya didn't take too kindly to Collette this morning, even though it didn't seem to faze Collette at all. Maya's definitely a little clingy on such occasions. She's a strong little monkey so I'm not immune to getting a few dings from the handoff. Hope your own day is bruise-free. Rock on.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
But if I see him again, he DEFINITELY owes me $13...
The Bushies broke down - they've agreed to brief all the Intelliigence Committees and anyone else with a serious gripe about their so-called "terrorist surveillance program". Operational stuff only, which as far as I've been able to determine deals with the scope and analysis of data - none of the "who?" and "why?" that the public will increasingly demand to know. A HUGE cave on their part, nonetheless. They know that their legal justifications have taken some major hits and a bunch of GOPers looking at tough races this Fall needed to make a point of opposing the program being kept secret. Many of them such as Pat Roberts, Peter Hoekstra, and all the GOP leadership will try to wash it down with the empty defense that it's all perfectly legit. I think the tough questions are just starting to come forward.
Best NSA-related piece today - a story in the Christian Science Monitor laying out a bunch of the specifics on the "dataveillance" programs the Department of Homeland Security has at their disposal. Great reporting and a ton of insider-sounding dope on this new version of "Total Information Awareness". The Bushies even came up with spooky acronyms for this updated crime like ADVISE (think " USA PATRIOT Act" - or "Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism"). Slowly but surely the drip, drip, drip of pertinent info continues to trickle out of our nation's newsy pipeline.
In local newz, my neighborhood lost a friendly homeless man yesterday. He's not dead. Just traveling, as far as I know. Don't know his name, but he started calling me "Mr. Viking" after seeing me in a Minnesota Gophers t-shirt over a year ago. Eventually he started calling me "Dad" and he was always friendly and gracious with Maya, masking his rotten teeth and obvious willingness to drink rubbing alcohol or whatever was cheapest these days out on the Street. Just over a month ago after those 12 miners were killed at the Sago Mine in West Virginia, our shaggy friend told me that he lost family in that tragedy. I'd noticed his accent before, but I was finally able to place it...or so I thought. If he was giving me a line of crap, it was an original and current one. So I gave him some cash - more than I ever give a homeless person, no matter the circumstances. My expectation is that he partied it away that particular Friday night. Whenever we saw him thereafter, he really turned on the charm. One time he veered from our bright and suprisingly upbeat rapport and confided in me that he needed to get to the VA Hospital for his liver. I gave him more cash, thinking that I'd been led down the wrong road by this skinny, hairy drunk and that we'd now have a less amicable exchange. But then I saw him yesterday with three pieces of luggage, surprisingly clean and well-packed in a camper's sense of balance. He greeted me with a "Hey, Dad" and then a "Hello Miss Princess" to Maya in the backpack. When I asked what he was up to, he described needing to hop a bus back to West Virginia. So if he lied the first time West Virginnie came up, he's either really consistent, only partly full of crap or completely legit. I prefer to be an optimist in such human endeavors. I wished him luck and gave him a couple bucks. He hadn't asked, but I knew he needed it wherever he was headed with his life in tow. He said, "listen to your Daddy, Miss Princess" and backed away waving earnestly. I tried to follow up with a "safe travels" or a "stay safe" - came out more like "stay travels". Didn't matter, he'd already turned back toward his march to the Greyhound station downtown. Bet he made it back yonder. Or makes it - San Francisco to West Virginia on a Greyhound probably takes a week and a half.
Hope your own travels today have convenient bathrooms available. Rock on.
Best NSA-related piece today - a story in the Christian Science Monitor laying out a bunch of the specifics on the "dataveillance" programs the Department of Homeland Security has at their disposal. Great reporting and a ton of insider-sounding dope on this new version of "Total Information Awareness". The Bushies even came up with spooky acronyms for this updated crime like ADVISE (think " USA PATRIOT Act" - or "Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism"). Slowly but surely the drip, drip, drip of pertinent info continues to trickle out of our nation's newsy pipeline.
In local newz, my neighborhood lost a friendly homeless man yesterday. He's not dead. Just traveling, as far as I know. Don't know his name, but he started calling me "Mr. Viking" after seeing me in a Minnesota Gophers t-shirt over a year ago. Eventually he started calling me "Dad" and he was always friendly and gracious with Maya, masking his rotten teeth and obvious willingness to drink rubbing alcohol or whatever was cheapest these days out on the Street. Just over a month ago after those 12 miners were killed at the Sago Mine in West Virginia, our shaggy friend told me that he lost family in that tragedy. I'd noticed his accent before, but I was finally able to place it...or so I thought. If he was giving me a line of crap, it was an original and current one. So I gave him some cash - more than I ever give a homeless person, no matter the circumstances. My expectation is that he partied it away that particular Friday night. Whenever we saw him thereafter, he really turned on the charm. One time he veered from our bright and suprisingly upbeat rapport and confided in me that he needed to get to the VA Hospital for his liver. I gave him more cash, thinking that I'd been led down the wrong road by this skinny, hairy drunk and that we'd now have a less amicable exchange. But then I saw him yesterday with three pieces of luggage, surprisingly clean and well-packed in a camper's sense of balance. He greeted me with a "Hey, Dad" and then a "Hello Miss Princess" to Maya in the backpack. When I asked what he was up to, he described needing to hop a bus back to West Virginia. So if he lied the first time West Virginnie came up, he's either really consistent, only partly full of crap or completely legit. I prefer to be an optimist in such human endeavors. I wished him luck and gave him a couple bucks. He hadn't asked, but I knew he needed it wherever he was headed with his life in tow. He said, "listen to your Daddy, Miss Princess" and backed away waving earnestly. I tried to follow up with a "safe travels" or a "stay safe" - came out more like "stay travels". Didn't matter, he'd already turned back toward his march to the Greyhound station downtown. Bet he made it back yonder. Or makes it - San Francisco to West Virginia on a Greyhound probably takes a week and a half.
Hope your own travels today have convenient bathrooms available. Rock on.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
"Susan, be a doll and forward me Karl's Outlook addressbook when you have a sec."
If you've got an iron stomach, you should listen to Cheney's interview with Jim Lehrer broadcast last night. There's more red meat in this 35-minute exchange than in all of Omaha. The horrendous half-truths and threateningly-cadenced tone that Big Dick offers gives hardcore Conservatives a hard-on. But I just think the man's utterly cracked. Is there anyone more Orwellian in your lifetime of watching politics? He's WAAAAY up at Number One in mine. He seems willing to offer absolutely nothing to his critics - the Bushies control the flow of info, War is Hell, sit down and shut up. Chilling. And compelling. Just imagine how much the rest of the World focuses on the occasional Cheney sighting. In this particular staging, Jim Lehrer got in some cagey questions. Calling Cheney on the claim that the so-called "terrorist surveillance program" had saved "thousands of American lives" was true balls. If there's any justice left in this Country, Cheney will be checked for the truth in that claim over the next few years. Regardless, the Bushies are worried. They know that Gonzo performed poorly at the Judiciary Committee. Cheney was damage control. I don't think the Bushies got what they were hoping for.
For those of you awaiting the Abramoff scandal's next juicy bit o' calamari, the WSJ has a complicated write-up detailing Abramoff's connections to David Safavian and Karl Rove. The best bit BY FAR - Karl Rove hired Abramoff's assistant (Susan Ralston) to work in the same capacity for him INSIDE the White House. How do you best make sure someone powerful always gets your calls? I'd answer "get that person to hire my secretary". Can't get much more direct than that. Lots of other grease in that story to come. Dubya can't avoid it forever, and I believe that the Bushies will be forced to acknowledge that eventually.
I think Sarah correctly diagnosed that Maya's getting her baby molars. No epic disturbances yet, but we'll keep you posted. Hope your own jaws are feeling fine. Rock on.
For those of you awaiting the Abramoff scandal's next juicy bit o' calamari, the WSJ has a complicated write-up detailing Abramoff's connections to David Safavian and Karl Rove. The best bit BY FAR - Karl Rove hired Abramoff's assistant (Susan Ralston) to work in the same capacity for him INSIDE the White House. How do you best make sure someone powerful always gets your calls? I'd answer "get that person to hire my secretary". Can't get much more direct than that. Lots of other grease in that story to come. Dubya can't avoid it forever, and I believe that the Bushies will be forced to acknowledge that eventually.
I think Sarah correctly diagnosed that Maya's getting her baby molars. No epic disturbances yet, but we'll keep you posted. Hope your own jaws are feeling fine. Rock on.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Dubya heads for a Wipeout!
Dubya's budget is getting the ink this morning. I'm waiting for a GOP attack monkey to call it a "tough love" budget or something equally absurd. Their primary hope is to make the tax cuts permanent. Then, the Bushies want us to ignore all the sticky policy stuff (Wars currently underway or impending, the Alternative Minimum Tax mess, the ree-dee-cu-lousy new Medicare drug program, etc.). And we're still looking at projected over-$200 Billion annual deficits until 2010, when it dips to $180 Billion. To call this irresponsible would be overly kind. This is a bucket of spit.
The first viewship numbers on the Super Bowl are in, and the Country was definitely interested. Biggest numbers for any TV program since '96. Over 90 Million American viewers. I never buy all that "billion viewers worldwide" crapola. But big numbers here are interesting. Too bad it was such a bunk game. GoDaddy.com may have gotten tons of clueless soft-core porn traffic thanks to their TV ads, but I don't think the NFL gained any converts from the previously disinclined thanks to that snoozer.
You know you're living in California when the all local newzieness features exasperated reports of today's 2006 Mavericks Surf Contest at Half Moon Bay - supposedly the coolest and most dangerous big wave surf contest on the Planet. I'd love to head down there, but I'll have to rely on the TV coverage we'll surely see wall to wall tonight. I'm no surfer, but even I'm interested in this fest. The forecasters have been talking about 3-story-high waves. Nutty.
Hope your own waves break in the right direction all day. Rock on.
The first viewship numbers on the Super Bowl are in, and the Country was definitely interested. Biggest numbers for any TV program since '96. Over 90 Million American viewers. I never buy all that "billion viewers worldwide" crapola. But big numbers here are interesting. Too bad it was such a bunk game. GoDaddy.com may have gotten tons of clueless soft-core porn traffic thanks to their TV ads, but I don't think the NFL gained any converts from the previously disinclined thanks to that snoozer.
You know you're living in California when the all local newzieness features exasperated reports of today's 2006 Mavericks Surf Contest at Half Moon Bay - supposedly the coolest and most dangerous big wave surf contest on the Planet. I'd love to head down there, but I'll have to rely on the TV coverage we'll surely see wall to wall tonight. I'm no surfer, but even I'm interested in this fest. The forecasters have been talking about 3-story-high waves. Nutty.
Hope your own waves break in the right direction all day. Rock on.
Monday, February 06, 2006
"Thanks Mean Joe!"
Watching Alberto Gonzales vigorously defend the NSA surveillance program before the Senate Judiciary Committee this morning was like mainlining Drano. Which I hear is pretty bad. Gonzo's pretty much always a slippery little pecker, but in this case he was also gratingly standoffish. Specter and Leahy landed the early punches, Kennedy rambled but hit him with a barrage. Everyone's got a gripe, probably even the GOP bootlickers like Jeff Sessions. They're totally gonna call Ashcroft and the Assistant AG (James Comey) who objected to a reauthorization when Ash-hole-croft was in the hospital. Hopefully the Committee will at least swear them in before testifying. Gonzo didn't swear to the oath because the Republicans voted that he shouldn't. Does that make sense to anyone? The Attorney General - the highest ranking law enforcement officer in the Country - doesn't testify before Congress under oath? Like I said, mainlining Drano.
Like most sportsfans out there, I'm still trying to digest yesterday's Super Bowl XL. The Steelers did more than enough to pants-to-the-ankles the hapless Seahags. Some of you might recall that I was all Seahags, all the way. But I must admit that I was rooting for the Steelers, led by my wallet and ego. I run a football pool with friends and my Steelers pick netted me the final two pots and rescued my season famously. The guy I beat out lives in Seattle and was fully ensconsed in the 12th Man phenomenon up yonder even though he's actually a manic Packer fan from Milwaukee. I fear it's extra grey and bleak for him and so many other formerly excited fans in the Northwest. Still, everyone should be able to see the poetry in Bill Cowher and Jerome Bettis getting their Championships, more focus on the Old School Rooneys, and Pittsburgh getting a well-deserved return to sporty prominence. This is like when the NY Rangers won the Stanley Cup in the mid-90s after decades of nothing. Not nearly like the Red Sox finally winning in '04, but from the same distillation. The Seahags were pretty much uninspired across the Board. Sure, there were some inexplicable calls from the refs. But the Steelmen had enough of everything and got a few huge plays. They seriously WORKED the Playoffs this year. Winning on the road, surprising everyone at each step along the way. They deflated the Bengals, dessimated the Colts, crushed the Broncos, and stymied the Seahags. They had some bigmouths (Porter) and some treacly storylines (Bettis returning to his childhood home, Detroit, and seeing that his old neighborhood looks like an American Baghdad). They had the thing I love but far too seldom see in big-time sports. They had zazz. And now that zazz will be dipped in amber and preserved forever like a perfect bee, clad in yellow and black.
Maya has been lighting up the emotional guilt meter when we try the handoff with Megan in the morning. Makes me wonder if kids understand the reality of the weekend when they're way young. On some level they must think, "Yay!" with everyone at home and visitors coming through the door and football mumbling in the background. And then suddenly, it's back to that other schedule. Drag.
Winter Olympics will be a good end o' the NFL season methadone in the coming weeks. I secretly want to be a luge racer. Solo - none of that silly two-person crap. I'm a purist. Hope your own events are being held at modern and impressive venues. Rock on.
Like most sportsfans out there, I'm still trying to digest yesterday's Super Bowl XL. The Steelers did more than enough to pants-to-the-ankles the hapless Seahags. Some of you might recall that I was all Seahags, all the way. But I must admit that I was rooting for the Steelers, led by my wallet and ego. I run a football pool with friends and my Steelers pick netted me the final two pots and rescued my season famously. The guy I beat out lives in Seattle and was fully ensconsed in the 12th Man phenomenon up yonder even though he's actually a manic Packer fan from Milwaukee. I fear it's extra grey and bleak for him and so many other formerly excited fans in the Northwest. Still, everyone should be able to see the poetry in Bill Cowher and Jerome Bettis getting their Championships, more focus on the Old School Rooneys, and Pittsburgh getting a well-deserved return to sporty prominence. This is like when the NY Rangers won the Stanley Cup in the mid-90s after decades of nothing. Not nearly like the Red Sox finally winning in '04, but from the same distillation. The Seahags were pretty much uninspired across the Board. Sure, there were some inexplicable calls from the refs. But the Steelmen had enough of everything and got a few huge plays. They seriously WORKED the Playoffs this year. Winning on the road, surprising everyone at each step along the way. They deflated the Bengals, dessimated the Colts, crushed the Broncos, and stymied the Seahags. They had some bigmouths (Porter) and some treacly storylines (Bettis returning to his childhood home, Detroit, and seeing that his old neighborhood looks like an American Baghdad). They had the thing I love but far too seldom see in big-time sports. They had zazz. And now that zazz will be dipped in amber and preserved forever like a perfect bee, clad in yellow and black.
Maya has been lighting up the emotional guilt meter when we try the handoff with Megan in the morning. Makes me wonder if kids understand the reality of the weekend when they're way young. On some level they must think, "Yay!" with everyone at home and visitors coming through the door and football mumbling in the background. And then suddenly, it's back to that other schedule. Drag.
Winter Olympics will be a good end o' the NFL season methadone in the coming weeks. I secretly want to be a luge racer. Solo - none of that silly two-person crap. I'm a purist. Hope your own events are being held at modern and impressive venues. Rock on.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Rummy swings for the fences and/or begins his new Rope-a-Dope plan
The first of this morning's "You've GOT To Be Kidding Me!" stories is the realization that House Republicans think the Abramhoff issue is no big deal. By picking John "It's Not Boner It's" Boehner who was the House Republican Liason to the K Street Project and has spoken recently about how House Republicans were overreacting, they've played their hand. Roy Blunt goes nowhere - stays Majority Whip and remains the eyes and ears and mouth of Tom Delay in the Leadership. Hastert only stayed sober long enough to get through that Conference vote. He'll be a wreck today. Look for Boehner (who looks and sounds like drunken Chevy Chase in the role of the crooked politician) to stub his toes pretty darn often in the months ahead as he stumbles toward the cameras. For the Dems, it only helps soil the Majority to add more whispers of lobbyist-supplied taint. Whether they can act on the Majority's taint, is another story altogether.
Secondly, with all the crap going horribly wrong for the Pentagon they certainly didn't need Rummy's speech at the National Press Club yesterday. Aside from dealing with the "Long War" assessment given for the struggle with al Qaeda, Rummy had the impending leak of the size of the new appropriations request. The new total through September for the Wars in Afghanistan and Iraq - $331 Billion. This year will cost $120 Billion. $10 Billion a month. For the foreseeable future (until at least a year from now). For all the work the Bushies have done to quash the usage, it's an absolute quagmire. But there are other parts of the World, and yesterday Rummy pointed a horribly misguided finger at our own hemisphere. He compared the election of Hugo Chavez in Venezuela to the election of Hitler in Germany. Seriously. And even though that's enough to tag him criminally insane and dangerous, Rummy went on to belabor the point about how often times Democracy comes back to bite you in the ass. I think I smell an exit strategy justification for Iraq forming...
Our Other Nanny, Collette, showed this morning freshly back from Utah where she saw some films at Sundance. It took Maya a moment to deal with the curveball of it not being Megan, so we chatted for a few minutes and she said that "Little Miss Sunshine" was the hit of the Festival from her point of view. Greg Kinear, Toni Collette and Steve Carrell. I see HUGEness in Steve Carrell's future. But he'll still always be mostly Produce Pete to me. Hope your own sketches kill all day. Rock on.
Secondly, with all the crap going horribly wrong for the Pentagon they certainly didn't need Rummy's speech at the National Press Club yesterday. Aside from dealing with the "Long War" assessment given for the struggle with al Qaeda, Rummy had the impending leak of the size of the new appropriations request. The new total through September for the Wars in Afghanistan and Iraq - $331 Billion. This year will cost $120 Billion. $10 Billion a month. For the foreseeable future (until at least a year from now). For all the work the Bushies have done to quash the usage, it's an absolute quagmire. But there are other parts of the World, and yesterday Rummy pointed a horribly misguided finger at our own hemisphere. He compared the election of Hugo Chavez in Venezuela to the election of Hitler in Germany. Seriously. And even though that's enough to tag him criminally insane and dangerous, Rummy went on to belabor the point about how often times Democracy comes back to bite you in the ass. I think I smell an exit strategy justification for Iraq forming...
Our Other Nanny, Collette, showed this morning freshly back from Utah where she saw some films at Sundance. It took Maya a moment to deal with the curveball of it not being Megan, so we chatted for a few minutes and she said that "Little Miss Sunshine" was the hit of the Festival from her point of view. Greg Kinear, Toni Collette and Steve Carrell. I see HUGEness in Steve Carrell's future. But he'll still always be mostly Produce Pete to me. Hope your own sketches kill all day. Rock on.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Dubya sees his shadow - 6 more weeks of ratings in the low 40s forecast
If you had to find a place to celebrate a ceremonial sighting of a rodent, I'd certainly suggest a place named Gobbler's Knob. Yes, that's where Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow. Somehow that translates to six more weeks of winter. And in the obligatory recap of the festivities there, I saw my Statistic of the Day. Phil almost always sees his shadow. Only 14 times out of 119 years has he not seen his shadow. The last time was 1999. This year, the whole thing was a Steelers rally. Good for them. But the Seahags are still gonna win.
Dubya's taking some hits for his SOTU buffet menu of programs. The GOP hates his energy programs, he's opened some wounds for foreign policy fights to come, and his domestic mish-mash is getting hammered. Whatever happened to the post-Speech Bounce, Dubya? Your darn bright folks were supposed to razzle-dazzle all us reality-based community folks. I revise my rating from yesterday. Definitely a D.
Maya's settled in pretty well with Megan, the Nanny. Megan's still having problems getting Maya to eat consistently. Overall, Maya's appetite is growing and she goes for more new foods. Mainly just tofu, eggs, and bready products. Pretzels are her friends. Her balance is spot-on. No walking, though. She still forgets to hold onto something when she's standing often enough to convince me that she's ready to go. Maybe we need to get her some bigger space. Like take her to a carpeting store and let her loose. She has gotten up once each of the last three nights and needed a bottle to settle her down. Growth spurt is our hopeful bet. We need to work with her more to encourage her to make her thoughts into words. Otherwise, she seems happy. Funny, loud happy. Hope your own spirits are up. Rock on.
Dubya's taking some hits for his SOTU buffet menu of programs. The GOP hates his energy programs, he's opened some wounds for foreign policy fights to come, and his domestic mish-mash is getting hammered. Whatever happened to the post-Speech Bounce, Dubya? Your darn bright folks were supposed to razzle-dazzle all us reality-based community folks. I revise my rating from yesterday. Definitely a D.
Maya's settled in pretty well with Megan, the Nanny. Megan's still having problems getting Maya to eat consistently. Overall, Maya's appetite is growing and she goes for more new foods. Mainly just tofu, eggs, and bready products. Pretzels are her friends. Her balance is spot-on. No walking, though. She still forgets to hold onto something when she's standing often enough to convince me that she's ready to go. Maybe we need to get her some bigger space. Like take her to a carpeting store and let her loose. She has gotten up once each of the last three nights and needed a bottle to settle her down. Growth spurt is our hopeful bet. We need to work with her more to encourage her to make her thoughts into words. Otherwise, she seems happy. Funny, loud happy. Hope your own spirits are up. Rock on.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Total Information Awareness resurfaces
Dubya's rating for last night's SOTU Speech - C minus. Although it should be a solid D, I'm giving him a bonus for looking like such a wuss. Still, it was just a big ol' turd of a speech. Nothing of substance, and my notes below were meant to be blogged last night. TiVo cut me short. I didn't care and just gave up. Editing the Bushies re-tread, uninspired, jingoistic lecturing into something worthwhile would be impossible. "A hopeful society..." Jeez, Dubya really drove that new "axis of evil" catchphrase into the ground last night. I'm sure the Bushies thought this sounded most like "it's morning in America". The "heroes" were BOR-RING - not a single Lenny Skutnik in the bunch. In many ways, Cindy Sheehan stole the limelight with a double-misdemeanor t-shirt. Sure to be the biggest search result from the speech in the Googling world today.
(all times translated to Eastern Standard, even for that weird part of Indiana that doesn't observe Daylight Savings Time)
• 9:07 PM - Alito, smug as a new Senior at a Princeton Eating Club midget bowling kegger.
• 9:09 Dubya makes his way in, really yuckin’ it up with Sheila Jackson Lee and Stephanie Tubbs Jones. Workin' on his street cred. Oh, and then he straightens up when he sees the guys in uniform.
• 9:10 John King on CNN says “(Dubya’s) a likable guy.” Yea, well then John King's a folksy dooshbag.
• Just seeing Hastert and Cheney sitting together raises the nation’s cholesterol 2 points.
• First hero introduction with creepy “they’re together now in heaven” overtones – Coretta Scott King. No representative made the gate.
• 9:16 Bin Laden identified by name for first time. “Allowing the violent to inherent the Earth.” Holy Biblical Overstatement, Batman!
• “There is no peace in retreat. And there is no honor in retreat.” Hubris never leads to true honor by always spurning retreat. I think Ted Baxter said that.
• Sarah lets it fly - “John Kerry’s a pussy for standing (for that line).” And tells me I can use it. Thanks, Hon.
• 9:22 “We are winning.” No word on what.
• Responsible criticism vs. defeatism – horribly overwritten politico-bunko. “Second guessing is not a strategy.” Neither is not having a strategy.
• 9:26 Hero alert! Soldiers. Bomb-sniffing German Shepard. Family of dead soldier (Dan Clay) introduced. CNN shot of soldier with bomb dog, both fighting back tears. Dubya with that TERRIBLE half-wink/half-smirk.
• “Dark vision of hatred and fear.” Dubya endorses the new album by Motorhead.
• 9:30 Calling out Iran. Everyone sychronize your Countdown Clocks - our new War is on the table. When Dubya starts speaking directly to the people of a Country, it's on. All that’s to be decided is the when.
• Hard shift to poverty and all its chums. Bleak, bleak, bleak. Turn that fake frown upside down, Dubya.
• 9:34 Patriot Act push. Looked like bad calesthenics in a 3rd Grade gym class seeing the GOP stand up.
• 9:35 NSA eves-dropping defense rundown. Hard spin. With snark.
• “Freedom is on the March.” Weird-ass request of both parties. No Dems should sign anything until their lawyers take a good luck at it.
• Calling for the Line Item Veto in a room full of Senators (who all want to be President) is like a motion for an evening of free cocaine at a fraternity convention. Everyone gets excited for a little while.
• 9:43 Dems draw the first blood of the evening when Dubya’s failed Social Security plan draws applause. And then he lumped Medicare and Medicaid into the call for action. Now THAT’s funny.
• All the domestic stuff blended together like a college freshman’s pasta sauce.
• Dubya tells Congress to be proud of itself. Awwww.
• Anti-cloning strangeness.
• Dubya’s hair is on the old guy side of his repertoire. Not his best hair day, by far. Laura looks, however, like her hair is one of the most successful programs in the past few years. Well worth a war, probably according to Ann Coulter.
• CRAP! Missed the end of it. Live TV jump cuts to Tim Blaine or Kaine or Rogaine. He looks like one of the Darrins from TV's "Bewitched".
(end o' notes)
I'm much more interested in what extent of things the Bushies are REALLY talking about when they mention the "Terrorist Surveillance Program". Remember "Total Information Awareness" back in 2001-2002. I suggest that's what we're looking at here. Just imagine that the NSA actually has a data mining project that covers absolutely everything, including you reading this and me writing this and all stops besides and all calls you make and everything you ever commit to the airwaves. Unless you're talking to someone face-to-face in your life, literally everything else. And now imagine how hard the Bushies will fight to keep people from knowing that they have this new weapon of monitoring their "enemies". Because you have to assume that someone will eventually use it against his or her political opponents, even if these horrifically sanctimonious Bushies actually believe that they'll always stay (wink, wink) pure and legally-justified. Will anyone stand up against the Program THEN? Who besides Cindy Sheehan's going to stand up against this pattern of abuse by this Administration? As we all saw last night, Dubya's not going anywhere no matter how diminished his political power to affect legislation may be.
But the time has come to move on. Lots of news out there, lots of reason to stay informed. Hope you're finding your own reasons for excitment today. Rock on.
(all times translated to Eastern Standard, even for that weird part of Indiana that doesn't observe Daylight Savings Time)
• 9:07 PM - Alito, smug as a new Senior at a Princeton Eating Club midget bowling kegger.
• 9:09 Dubya makes his way in, really yuckin’ it up with Sheila Jackson Lee and Stephanie Tubbs Jones. Workin' on his street cred. Oh, and then he straightens up when he sees the guys in uniform.
• 9:10 John King on CNN says “(Dubya’s) a likable guy.” Yea, well then John King's a folksy dooshbag.
• Just seeing Hastert and Cheney sitting together raises the nation’s cholesterol 2 points.
• First hero introduction with creepy “they’re together now in heaven” overtones – Coretta Scott King. No representative made the gate.
• 9:16 Bin Laden identified by name for first time. “Allowing the violent to inherent the Earth.” Holy Biblical Overstatement, Batman!
• “There is no peace in retreat. And there is no honor in retreat.” Hubris never leads to true honor by always spurning retreat. I think Ted Baxter said that.
• Sarah lets it fly - “John Kerry’s a pussy for standing (for that line).” And tells me I can use it. Thanks, Hon.
• 9:22 “We are winning.” No word on what.
• Responsible criticism vs. defeatism – horribly overwritten politico-bunko. “Second guessing is not a strategy.” Neither is not having a strategy.
• 9:26 Hero alert! Soldiers. Bomb-sniffing German Shepard. Family of dead soldier (Dan Clay) introduced. CNN shot of soldier with bomb dog, both fighting back tears. Dubya with that TERRIBLE half-wink/half-smirk.
• “Dark vision of hatred and fear.” Dubya endorses the new album by Motorhead.
• 9:30 Calling out Iran. Everyone sychronize your Countdown Clocks - our new War is on the table. When Dubya starts speaking directly to the people of a Country, it's on. All that’s to be decided is the when.
• Hard shift to poverty and all its chums. Bleak, bleak, bleak. Turn that fake frown upside down, Dubya.
• 9:34 Patriot Act push. Looked like bad calesthenics in a 3rd Grade gym class seeing the GOP stand up.
• 9:35 NSA eves-dropping defense rundown. Hard spin. With snark.
• “Freedom is on the March.” Weird-ass request of both parties. No Dems should sign anything until their lawyers take a good luck at it.
• Calling for the Line Item Veto in a room full of Senators (who all want to be President) is like a motion for an evening of free cocaine at a fraternity convention. Everyone gets excited for a little while.
• 9:43 Dems draw the first blood of the evening when Dubya’s failed Social Security plan draws applause. And then he lumped Medicare and Medicaid into the call for action. Now THAT’s funny.
• All the domestic stuff blended together like a college freshman’s pasta sauce.
• Dubya tells Congress to be proud of itself. Awwww.
• Anti-cloning strangeness.
• Dubya’s hair is on the old guy side of his repertoire. Not his best hair day, by far. Laura looks, however, like her hair is one of the most successful programs in the past few years. Well worth a war, probably according to Ann Coulter.
• CRAP! Missed the end of it. Live TV jump cuts to Tim Blaine or Kaine or Rogaine. He looks like one of the Darrins from TV's "Bewitched".
(end o' notes)
I'm much more interested in what extent of things the Bushies are REALLY talking about when they mention the "Terrorist Surveillance Program". Remember "Total Information Awareness" back in 2001-2002. I suggest that's what we're looking at here. Just imagine that the NSA actually has a data mining project that covers absolutely everything, including you reading this and me writing this and all stops besides and all calls you make and everything you ever commit to the airwaves. Unless you're talking to someone face-to-face in your life, literally everything else. And now imagine how hard the Bushies will fight to keep people from knowing that they have this new weapon of monitoring their "enemies". Because you have to assume that someone will eventually use it against his or her political opponents, even if these horrifically sanctimonious Bushies actually believe that they'll always stay (wink, wink) pure and legally-justified. Will anyone stand up against the Program THEN? Who besides Cindy Sheehan's going to stand up against this pattern of abuse by this Administration? As we all saw last night, Dubya's not going anywhere no matter how diminished his political power to affect legislation may be.
But the time has come to move on. Lots of news out there, lots of reason to stay informed. Hope you're finding your own reasons for excitment today. Rock on.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Envisioning "If you sprinkle when you tinkle..."
State of the Union drinking games are being prepped all over the nerdy poly-sci/news junkie map today. Dubya gets a 5th Shot at the Big House. If we're to believe all the pre-speech bunk flooding the zone, healthcare will be the Bushies' new "reform" (wink, wink) issue. Healthcare. The Bushies. Yep, that's their new plan to get the public's attention away from Iraq. I just heard an economist eviscerate the early-release plan details. Think private health insurance becoming an increased tax shelter with crazy-high deductibles. Which also make the plans hopelessly expensive for very sick people. If you liked Social Security privitization from the Bushies, you're going to love their insurance fixes. Oh, and the Medicare prescription drug plan's going down in flames as we speak. I expect that Karl Rove is taking some time off from his own defense to personally stage-manage some town halls in important Congressional districts over the next 10 months. And I'm sure those Dems still in Congress are reving up their whines and groupthinkin' a slightly watered-down response. But at least they've got some experience with this hydra-headed monster. Healthcare reform. It didn't work in '93, it sure as shite ain't working in '06.
More importantly with regard to the SOTU, the DC gossip mill I'm sure is abuzz with leaks about Laura's box seats of "heroes". I'd also like to know about the "swag". Probably just beef jerky and Depends. Still, hard to believe that the whole showcase only began with Reagan in '82 inviting that crazy heroic dude who'd jumped into the Potomac to save a drowning flight attendant from an especially memorable plane crash. But then again, that guy's name was (is?) Lenny Skutnik. Having a Lenny is poetry that just writes itself. Reagan could spot that kind of poetry immediately, even as he tilted toward completely crazy. Dubya hasn't seen poetry since the bathroom walls in his old "irresponsible youth" time in bars and both kinds of clubs (country and strip). So tonite I expect some injured American soldiers, someone connected with Corretta Scott King (who passed away today), a country singer, 3 pharmaceutical industry executives, a seeing-eye cockerspaniel that defied the odds, someone's hooker date, and a copier repair guy who got lost and just tried to roll with it.
I'll be tracking the word usage tonite and getting ready for a full SOTU run-down tomorrow morning. Hope you take the opportunity to improve your own health policy as a result of not needing to watch - I got your back. Rock on.
More importantly with regard to the SOTU, the DC gossip mill I'm sure is abuzz with leaks about Laura's box seats of "heroes". I'd also like to know about the "swag". Probably just beef jerky and Depends. Still, hard to believe that the whole showcase only began with Reagan in '82 inviting that crazy heroic dude who'd jumped into the Potomac to save a drowning flight attendant from an especially memorable plane crash. But then again, that guy's name was (is?) Lenny Skutnik. Having a Lenny is poetry that just writes itself. Reagan could spot that kind of poetry immediately, even as he tilted toward completely crazy. Dubya hasn't seen poetry since the bathroom walls in his old "irresponsible youth" time in bars and both kinds of clubs (country and strip). So tonite I expect some injured American soldiers, someone connected with Corretta Scott King (who passed away today), a country singer, 3 pharmaceutical industry executives, a seeing-eye cockerspaniel that defied the odds, someone's hooker date, and a copier repair guy who got lost and just tried to roll with it.
I'll be tracking the word usage tonite and getting ready for a full SOTU run-down tomorrow morning. Hope you take the opportunity to improve your own health policy as a result of not needing to watch - I got your back. Rock on.
Monday, January 30, 2006
I went to a truck pull and an Arena Football game broke out.
Best story of the morning - NPR's "Morning Edition" (David Kestenbaum) talked with folks in N'Awlins about a timeline of the Katrina flooding. It was compiled by a crime scene investigator looking at the time clocks stopped in flooded "dead spots" (the places where dead people were discovered). This has lead to definitive reports being somewhat revised and debated as it undercuts alleged defenses of the levees. Even the Industrial levee gave way long before water running over the top of a levee ("overtopping") would have knocked out a trench and caused the levee to fail. Bad designs everywhere, loads of liability to spread around. Scary accurate reporting. The kind I expect from NPR.
Over the weekend I tested out a low-brow, questionably-talented sports League. I owed my friend, Sockie, some sort of sporting event to settle a bet from our NFL pool. An Arena Football League game was my idea. The San Jose SaberCats vs. the Utah Blaze. Arena Football's got more sexual tawdriness and none of the self-awareness or occasional restraint seen in the NFL. They use a smaller field and have modified the rules to encourage much more scoring. They use cushioned sideboards to contain the action like in hockey and give the bloodthirsty fans the thrill of collisions that sound much worse than they are. A crowd of nearly 14,000 weirdos including us mostly filled the place. The overly-featured cheerleaders (the SaberKittens) line both end zones, even when the offense is looking to score on the goalline. Cannonfire and other audio assaults pour over the crowd constantly. A handful of facepainters and strangely-dressed suburban rebels sat in the best zones for inadvertent TV coverage fame.
We bought scalped tix outside and ended up in the 6th row on the 20-ish yard-line next to a creepy Dad with binoculars trained on the SaberKittens while his 8-year-old-ish son tried to make sense of the confusing spectacle. On the other side of Sockie sat a hefty pair of high-fiving, freakishly-involved fans. People in the rows ahead of us acted as if they somewhat knew each other, like they'd met last season at a truck pull and lapsed into this poorly-trained posse. This was the Season Opener, and the SaberCats are next going on a 5-week string of Road games. Ouch - hard to build a fanbase that way.
Making the roster of the SaberCats is either a nearly last stop on a fading route (ex-NFL QB Stoney Case played in the 2nd Half) or a hard way to make a living for a young guy. Everyone on the field vamped like they have all the goods necessary for the jump to the NFL. Well, aside from the size, the speed and the superhuman talent.
The game started on a high note. Quite literally. An amazing National Anthem by a hefty African-American trumpeter that put a lump in even the grittiest throat. But that high lasted just 2:30 into the First Quarter. The SaberCats threw one to the corner of the endzone and the receiver held onto the ball as he crashed into an un-cushioned metal guardrail. He was on the ground amidst a swirl of medical and stadium personnel for the next 20 minutes. If there was any buzz in the place, it was dead after that. Oh sure, everyone did their best to fake it. They had a "Kiss Cam" play on the 4-sided center-ice scoreboard to hilarious (and humiliating) effect. The Blaze were a complete mess. Hell, we even stayed in our seats until just before halftime. But this game had lost us at "hello", the SaberCats went on to lose as expected, and I can say with assurance that I'll never go to another Arena Football game. This League should be put into a bag with a snake, and thrown into a swirling river. Amazingly, the AFL is celebrating their 20th Season this year. They may give dozens of good-hearted strippers a few easy shifts a few times a month. But they're not helping anyone with this crap.
Here's hoping that Bob Woodruff comes out alright from his injuries suffered in Iraq over the weekend. Rock on.
Over the weekend I tested out a low-brow, questionably-talented sports League. I owed my friend, Sockie, some sort of sporting event to settle a bet from our NFL pool. An Arena Football League game was my idea. The San Jose SaberCats vs. the Utah Blaze. Arena Football's got more sexual tawdriness and none of the self-awareness or occasional restraint seen in the NFL. They use a smaller field and have modified the rules to encourage much more scoring. They use cushioned sideboards to contain the action like in hockey and give the bloodthirsty fans the thrill of collisions that sound much worse than they are. A crowd of nearly 14,000 weirdos including us mostly filled the place. The overly-featured cheerleaders (the SaberKittens) line both end zones, even when the offense is looking to score on the goalline. Cannonfire and other audio assaults pour over the crowd constantly. A handful of facepainters and strangely-dressed suburban rebels sat in the best zones for inadvertent TV coverage fame.
We bought scalped tix outside and ended up in the 6th row on the 20-ish yard-line next to a creepy Dad with binoculars trained on the SaberKittens while his 8-year-old-ish son tried to make sense of the confusing spectacle. On the other side of Sockie sat a hefty pair of high-fiving, freakishly-involved fans. People in the rows ahead of us acted as if they somewhat knew each other, like they'd met last season at a truck pull and lapsed into this poorly-trained posse. This was the Season Opener, and the SaberCats are next going on a 5-week string of Road games. Ouch - hard to build a fanbase that way.
Making the roster of the SaberCats is either a nearly last stop on a fading route (ex-NFL QB Stoney Case played in the 2nd Half) or a hard way to make a living for a young guy. Everyone on the field vamped like they have all the goods necessary for the jump to the NFL. Well, aside from the size, the speed and the superhuman talent.
The game started on a high note. Quite literally. An amazing National Anthem by a hefty African-American trumpeter that put a lump in even the grittiest throat. But that high lasted just 2:30 into the First Quarter. The SaberCats threw one to the corner of the endzone and the receiver held onto the ball as he crashed into an un-cushioned metal guardrail. He was on the ground amidst a swirl of medical and stadium personnel for the next 20 minutes. If there was any buzz in the place, it was dead after that. Oh sure, everyone did their best to fake it. They had a "Kiss Cam" play on the 4-sided center-ice scoreboard to hilarious (and humiliating) effect. The Blaze were a complete mess. Hell, we even stayed in our seats until just before halftime. But this game had lost us at "hello", the SaberCats went on to lose as expected, and I can say with assurance that I'll never go to another Arena Football game. This League should be put into a bag with a snake, and thrown into a swirling river. Amazingly, the AFL is celebrating their 20th Season this year. They may give dozens of good-hearted strippers a few easy shifts a few times a month. But they're not helping anyone with this crap.
Here's hoping that Bob Woodruff comes out alright from his injuries suffered in Iraq over the weekend. Rock on.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Friday, January 27, 2006
Warm, only slightly damp, and Oprah-approved
It's a rainy day in San Francisco, and I'm still glad that I'm not James Frey. Collette will usually be our Friday nanny, but she's out of town this week. Maya's dismantling some toys as I get a few thoughts out for the day. Megan's been taking Maya out in the Park as we all love to do in the mornings here, but I was glad to have dibs on getting outside with her today. Some parts of the world are surely getting cold weather today. Not here. Not missing it much either.
Maya's not nearly mastered the confidence necessary to start walking on her 11-month Birthday. But every once in a while she forgets to hold on to something and she holds her standing position just fine. Then she realizes and grabs back onto support of some sort. Thankfully no hard crackin' headers taken, recently or otherwise. So maybe she's athletic. Or at least not clumsy. And maybe by her First Birthday we'll see some real steps. Expect that you'll hear of it first here.
I've been listening to podcasts of the Al Franken show occasionally, including on this morning's run. I expect that the Sundance boiled-down re-broadcasts are no longer being produced in part because Al's back in Minneapolis (broadcasting from the MiniIconic Foshay Tower). I've recently heard while buzzing through much of his show that 3 hours is often a lot of space to fill. Al's good much of the time, yet lameish and good-spirited when he's out on a limb with a bit that doesn't have a real pay-off. Today's show had a golden nugget early on, nonetheless. Al was riffing on how the FISA Court had only turned down 5 warrant requests since 1979, while giving the thumbs-up to 19,000. He went into a bit about how the 5 requests all came from one intelligence agent who kept trying to bug his wife because "she's cheating on me (SOB!)" with her boss, and then 4 other guys. Al's voice skills and timing are amazing. Stream it (go to iTunes). Well worth the time taken to download or listen through the first 10 minutes.
I think Maya's looking for some playtime assistance. Hope your own playtime is prodigious today. Rock on.
Maya's not nearly mastered the confidence necessary to start walking on her 11-month Birthday. But every once in a while she forgets to hold on to something and she holds her standing position just fine. Then she realizes and grabs back onto support of some sort. Thankfully no hard crackin' headers taken, recently or otherwise. So maybe she's athletic. Or at least not clumsy. And maybe by her First Birthday we'll see some real steps. Expect that you'll hear of it first here.
I've been listening to podcasts of the Al Franken show occasionally, including on this morning's run. I expect that the Sundance boiled-down re-broadcasts are no longer being produced in part because Al's back in Minneapolis (broadcasting from the MiniIconic Foshay Tower). I've recently heard while buzzing through much of his show that 3 hours is often a lot of space to fill. Al's good much of the time, yet lameish and good-spirited when he's out on a limb with a bit that doesn't have a real pay-off. Today's show had a golden nugget early on, nonetheless. Al was riffing on how the FISA Court had only turned down 5 warrant requests since 1979, while giving the thumbs-up to 19,000. He went into a bit about how the 5 requests all came from one intelligence agent who kept trying to bug his wife because "she's cheating on me (SOB!)" with her boss, and then 4 other guys. Al's voice skills and timing are amazing. Stream it (go to iTunes). Well worth the time taken to download or listen through the first 10 minutes.
I think Maya's looking for some playtime assistance. Hope your own playtime is prodigious today. Rock on.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Trying to define "perfidious" without bursting into laughter...
Everyone's agog this afternoon over the Oprah! smackdown of James "My Career's In a Million Little Pieces" Frey. I totally support Oprah's right to admit that she's pissed and to then rescind her endorsement of Frey's memoir. But MY GAWD did she bitchslap this poor newly-rich shmuck in front of the entire nation. I'm watching it now and it makes me so sad that this is the biggest story in publishing over the last number of years (Publisher's Weekly has sent out 2 email "Alerts" just this afternoon). What about all the other legitimate memoir writers out there currently? Has anyone run Dave Eggers through the ringer recently (sorry, Dave - the joke had to be made)? And will someone now finally shakedown Frank McCourt - no one's childhood can be THAT ethnic, can it? But in all seriousness - knock off all this sanctimonious dumpster diving before someone blows an actual gasket. If anyone needs a drink or 37 this evening, it's Frey. Here's hoping he resists the urge just because people are so enjoying knocking the stuffing out of him.
Didn't watch Dubya's presser this morning (no surprises there anyways) because I was holed up in a depressing downtown SF office building, taking my GREs by computer under what felt like the unbalanced eyes of an army of ready-to-blow secretaries with tazers in the side pockets of their Talbot's blazers. I'm considering a trip back to grad school and my old test scores were out of date. So as a penance, I was required to record for posterity how little of my 10-cent-Word of the Day calendar entries I could remember without a caffeine enema. Sheesh. Of course they let me get all cocky to start off with by giving me the chance to pontificate on a few essay questions. And then, BAM! Algebra, reading comprehension, square roots, antonyms and everything horrible except the embarrassment of having to take the test nude, hanging from the ceiling in gravity boots. In other words, I'm officially no longer as smart as I supposedly was 12 years ago. No surprise in that. I'll just blame it on too much Oprah! in the interim.
Much more on the first week of Megan's nannyness tomorrow. Hope your own stories are vetted and appropriately endorsed in the meantime. Rock on.
Didn't watch Dubya's presser this morning (no surprises there anyways) because I was holed up in a depressing downtown SF office building, taking my GREs by computer under what felt like the unbalanced eyes of an army of ready-to-blow secretaries with tazers in the side pockets of their Talbot's blazers. I'm considering a trip back to grad school and my old test scores were out of date. So as a penance, I was required to record for posterity how little of my 10-cent-Word of the Day calendar entries I could remember without a caffeine enema. Sheesh. Of course they let me get all cocky to start off with by giving me the chance to pontificate on a few essay questions. And then, BAM! Algebra, reading comprehension, square roots, antonyms and everything horrible except the embarrassment of having to take the test nude, hanging from the ceiling in gravity boots. In other words, I'm officially no longer as smart as I supposedly was 12 years ago. No surprise in that. I'll just blame it on too much Oprah! in the interim.
Much more on the first week of Megan's nannyness tomorrow. Hope your own stories are vetted and appropriately endorsed in the meantime. Rock on.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
When all else fails, repeat.
Since Dubya can't stop lying about his illegal NSA spying program, I can only join the chorus of those chilled by his defenses. Today's visit to the previously unmentionable NSA (famously nicknamed "No Such Agency") should make news based on the sheer audacity of the Bushies' revisionism. But it won't. Still, Dubya now says that the people snared in this NSA net are "operatives placed in this Country" fully ignoring the fact that they are American citizens, placed here by no one aside from their ancestors. And then the NSA Director, General Michael Hayden, went on to say that if we'd had this program in place before 9/11, we might have discovered the plot and found some of the hijackers. Dick "Big Time!" Cheney's used that same false line of argument recently and it still stinks. Which entirely clouds the issue - none of the 9/11 hijackers were American citizens, the FBI has been shown to have known of the activities of many of those 15 foreign nationals, and their communications have been shown to be almost entirely domestic in nature. So unless this NSA program is entirely different than what they're admitting to, they wouldn't have found anything that they didn't already have before 9/11 even though the Bushies did absolutely nothing about it. Kapeesh? You would think that at least Hayden would have read "The 9/11 Commission Report" which entirely debunks his erroneous post facto claims. I've read the Report, and I can tell you as just one concerned observer that what we're seeing this week from the Bushies is a smokescreen. And a stinky one at that.
Blogger's going down for a "scheduled outage" just as I finally build up the steam for a hearty rant. Oh, well - I'll probably preserve more of the ozone layer by backing off for today. Hope your own environments are clean and clear. Rock on.
Blogger's going down for a "scheduled outage" just as I finally build up the steam for a hearty rant. Oh, well - I'll probably preserve more of the ozone layer by backing off for today. Hope your own environments are clean and clear. Rock on.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Mmmm...delicious kidneys
I see a hearty handful of stories making headlines this morning that I expect will become bigger and bigger in the all-too-near future. I'll try not to linger on any one of them too long, even though they all merit extensive discussion.
- The White House is now formally refusing to release photos of Dubya and Jack Abramhoff. There are around a dozen out there. Five of which Jack bragged to have kept on his office desk. Within a week, I'm sure we'll see at least one.
- The WashingtonPost scoops a story on how pharmaceutical industry lobbyists garnered a $22 Billion Medicare discount for their clients in this latest round of Congressional "budget cutting". That's Billion with a B. Nice work if you can get it.
- Katrina's forecasted destruction was spot on, and reached the White House 48-hours before the hurricane made landfall. The Bushies even saw a slideshow presentation that compared it to models of a smaller fictional storm. So Dubya's "I don't think anyone could have predicted the extent of the damage" was either an outright lie or an indication that he was not in the White House "Situation Room" when the presentation was offered by the Department of Homeland Security.
- Alito got through the Senate Judiciary Committe on a straight party-line vote of 10-8. I expect his full Senate vote will go 56-44 based on the reporting I've seen thus far (the only Dem to indicate he'll vote for Alito is Ben Nelson of Nebraska). That would be the second least bi-partisan confirmation vote since the 1880s. By the way, the LEAST bi-partisan since the days of James Garfield was Clarence "Is this a pubic hair on my Coke can?" Thomas (52-48).
- The newest misleading euphemism offered up by Dubya - "terrorist surrveillance project". The newest concern for the Bushies - "impeachment" - according to overly pessimistic reports surfacing yesterday. Alberto Gonzales tried to defend the program today by saying that even George Washington read intercepted mail during the Revolutionary War. I've seen overreaching before, but this one was pulled from the upper deck on an obviously foul ball. Let the rumblings begin - impeachment, impeachment, impeachment, uh, uh, uh...
- The oddsmakers for the Super Bowl have made the Steelers 3 1/2 point favorites. Seriously? Talk about blindly getting on the Bus. I'm currently in the Seahags camp, even before seeing this bit of silliness. But I suggest you wait for a serious adjustment of that line in the next 12 days before you drop your hard earned bling on one side or the other. Personally, I believe that gambling should be limited to wagers with friends. Like the kidney I won in college from a roommate on the Giants over the Bills.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Yosemite has ROCKS! Or so the kids say.
Before I get into our weekend in Yosemite, I must give a brief comment or two on the Bushies' PR offensive this week in defense of their utterly illegal NSA spying program. Plainly, they're worried. So they've come out now with guns a blazin' in hopes of a public embrace of their overstepping. No one does staged bunk better than these folks. But I truly, COMPLETELY, believe they're screwed on this one. Why? We've got none of the details of the extent of the NSA perview aside from the sliver offered in the NYTimes story from last week that itemized how much the FBI pushed back on the so-called "tips" they were given to follow-up on. I don't live in DC. I haven't worked in this "Community" that dabbles in overriding the privacy rights of American citizens. Yet I to my very core distrust this cabal of thinktank goofball conservatives that feel as though (as Karl Rove re-introduced over the weekend) that national security is their primary political advantage. I sincerely believe that as more details come out, Dubya will look more and more like a dupe in the plans of his underlings. Either that, or he's a scary Nixon-update in the chosen guise of a churchy cheeseball. Obviously, he's not that smart. This is simply Big Brother little minions run amok. Since the NYTimes sat on this story for a whole year I will bet my right wing nut on the fact that they've got much, MUCH more to present in the weeks and months ahead. The Bushies are simply trying to flood the zone with this week's onslaught. Don't believe an iota of it. Unless, of course, you hate freedom.
More importantly, our family getaway to Yosemite National Park was a brief exposure to the seemingly boundless beauty California has to offer. Maya got to hang with her honorary "big Sisters" - Stella and Sylvie. And they were more than happy to give Maya a loving shakedown. Snow time was had. Games were played. Sights were seen. Everyone joined in the fun to whatever level they could reach. I tried to cross-country ski with Stella and Sylvie's very sporty Dad, Mike, but my equipment was only slightly worse than my own preparedness. Which means it was horrible. Gorgeous days and vistas filled in any prepartory gaps on my part, though. If you've not seen the sights of Yosemite that Ansel Adams so brilliantly captured, you really should make the effort to do so at the first available opportunity. There's so much of this country that I've not yet seen. But I must say that I feel more self-satisfied with my American-ness after seeing this undisputable National Treasure.
Our other new nanny, Megan, started this morning. Maya had no problem with the transition, unlike her Dad. Megan's warm, funny, and totally engaged - Maya went to her immediately. Which convinces me that I'm already losing my darling little girl. In a good way. See, having been the stay-at-home Dad for the past almost 11-months has meant that I've been there for everything. Any parent will tweak the percentages, but I'd say that my time with Maya has been 82% stunningly new and life-affirming. The remaining 18% is split somewhere between dorkishly unsure, irrationally pissed, and terrified at just how much I don't know how to deal with it. But that 82% has filled me with more love and pride than I ever imagined possible. Megan's great. Collette (our other part-time nanny) is great. I'm able to focus on my work. Sarah's able to do so, as well. So why am I so frickin' teary-eyed and surprised by separation anxiety? Must be that I'm psyched about the Steelers-Seahags Super Bowl match-up (BY FAR the best in years and years). Or maybe I'm just a wuss. Either way, hope your own spines are steely and seaworthy. Rock on.
More importantly, our family getaway to Yosemite National Park was a brief exposure to the seemingly boundless beauty California has to offer. Maya got to hang with her honorary "big Sisters" - Stella and Sylvie. And they were more than happy to give Maya a loving shakedown. Snow time was had. Games were played. Sights were seen. Everyone joined in the fun to whatever level they could reach. I tried to cross-country ski with Stella and Sylvie's very sporty Dad, Mike, but my equipment was only slightly worse than my own preparedness. Which means it was horrible. Gorgeous days and vistas filled in any prepartory gaps on my part, though. If you've not seen the sights of Yosemite that Ansel Adams so brilliantly captured, you really should make the effort to do so at the first available opportunity. There's so much of this country that I've not yet seen. But I must say that I feel more self-satisfied with my American-ness after seeing this undisputable National Treasure.
Our other new nanny, Megan, started this morning. Maya had no problem with the transition, unlike her Dad. Megan's warm, funny, and totally engaged - Maya went to her immediately. Which convinces me that I'm already losing my darling little girl. In a good way. See, having been the stay-at-home Dad for the past almost 11-months has meant that I've been there for everything. Any parent will tweak the percentages, but I'd say that my time with Maya has been 82% stunningly new and life-affirming. The remaining 18% is split somewhere between dorkishly unsure, irrationally pissed, and terrified at just how much I don't know how to deal with it. But that 82% has filled me with more love and pride than I ever imagined possible. Megan's great. Collette (our other part-time nanny) is great. I'm able to focus on my work. Sarah's able to do so, as well. So why am I so frickin' teary-eyed and surprised by separation anxiety? Must be that I'm psyched about the Steelers-Seahags Super Bowl match-up (BY FAR the best in years and years). Or maybe I'm just a wuss. Either way, hope your own spines are steely and seaworthy. Rock on.
Maya does her best to groom the trails at Badger Pass in Yosemite Nat'l Park.
On the periphery of the Badger Pups ski school, Maya showed a willingness to tap into her 'Sconi genes and dive right into the fluff.
Friday, January 20, 2006
Maya preps for technical climbing and clean floor scootin'
We're somewhat frantically getting ready to hit the road for a weekend in Yosemite. I will be my first visit. Maya's, too. But she seems a bit more excited about our recently cleaned apartment (Faviola ROCKS!) than getting in the car for the 3-4 hour trip. So expect plenty of pics of Maya in nature and all that sort of thang once we get back into WiFi range, probably Monday. Hope your own domes are more than half-full. Rock on.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
"Giddy-up, Dad!"
Maya's new backpack is comfy on both ends of the horse. And we got it just in time for our upcoming trip to Yosemite.
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