OK... I Gotta Side With Sergeant Crowley

From Bloomberg:

July 29 (Bloomberg) -- President Barack Obama will have Bud Light tomorrow when he hosts an old friend and the police officer who arrested him.

Obama, 47, has picked the top-selling beer in the U.S. for his get-together at the White House with Harvard University professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. and Cambridge, Massachusetts, police Sergeant James Crowley, White House Spokesman Robert Gibbs said today. Crowley will probably drink Blue Moon and Gates is likely to opt for Red Stripe, Gibbs said, citing news reports about their preferences.

Bud Light? So much for The One's urbane sophistication. (With apologies to my daughter-in-law Erma, who drinks that stuff. It's still swill.)

There's your deep political thought for the day.

Last Nite's "WTF?" Moment

Check out the ad on the right side of the image below...

That is ENTIRELY the wrong approach to get some of us... maybe even most of us... to click on an ad. I mean... WTF does "Obama Backs Insurance Regulation" have to do with any-frickin'-thing, leaving aside the fact the insurance biz is already one of most-regulated industries in this country (returning over 1.2 million results when googling "state insurance regulatory agency")? It'll be a cold day in Hell before ignorant frickin' ad flacks who insult my intelligence with that kind of crap induce me to click on such an ad. And people have problems with Flo, Cavemen, and Erin E-Surance? Sheesh.

Speaking of cold days in Hell New Mexico and apropos of the relevant content above... which is to say: the temperature... I entertained kicking on the furnace this evening. Seriously. But I didn't. Firing up the furnace in July, in New Mexico? That's just wrong, unless you happen to be up around 8,000 feet in the mountains somewhere. I did, however, drag out my fleece-lined slippers and put on a flannel shirt. I kid thee not.

Mini-Rant

THIS pisses me off more than you could possibly know...

Here's what the WSJ has to say (in part) on the subject. Excerpts:

So far, the Obama administration has yet to lay out its magical thinking on how the homegrown auto makers are to become "viable" when required to subordinate every auto attribute that consumers find desirable (ed: emphasis mine) in favor of achieving a passenger-car average of 39 miles per gallon by 2016. Nonetheless the answer has quietly seeped out: Taxpayers will write $5,000 or $7,000 rebate checks to other taxpayers to bribe them to buy hybrids and plug-ins at a price that lets Detroit claim it's earning a "profit" on its Obamamobiles.

Mr. Obama was supposed to be smart. His administration was supposed to be a smart administration. But the policy coming out has not been smart. It has been a brute shifting of power to the president's political allies, justified by the shibboleths of copybook liberalism (though Mr. Obama is clever enough to know that nothing he's done will have a meaningful effect on atmospheric carbon or climate change or the country's need for oil imports).

As for attributes I find desirable... horsepower is right up there along with agility. It pains me, severely, to think that those rompin', stompin' V8s of my youth... improved as they are (and 304 hp V6s that get 29 mpg, fer gawd's sake)... will go the way of the dodo. I just don't see how they fit in with The One's hybridized bastardized vision of the American auto industry.

I may never own another fire-breathing V8 and it's quite likely I wouldn't choose one the next time I'm in the market for a new car, anyway. But I ain't happy about having the goddamned government take that choice away from me. What have we come to?

(toon from the usual source)

An Ill Wind

About which (Investor's Business Daily -- "Meet the New Boss"):

A president of the United States orders the chief executive officer of General Motors to resign. The same president is further ordering Chrysler to merge with Fiat, the Italian firm specializing in flimsy cardboard boxes on wheels.

This new reality should send a chill down the spines of all Americans. The federal government has begun to run U.S. companies.

President Obama said Monday, "my team will be working closely with GM to produce a better business plan."

To that confident assertion he added these stern sentiments:

"They must ask themselves: Have they consolidated enough unprofitable brands? Have they cleaned up their balance sheets, or are they still saddled with so much debt that they can't make future investments? Above all, have they created a credible model for how not only to survive, but to succeed in this competitive global market?"

Who is in a better position to know the answers to these questions? Rick Wagoner, the GM CEO for nine years and former GM chief financial officer who has been with the automaker since the late 1970s, even running one of its foreign affiliates in Brazil, and who holds a Harvard Business School MBA?

Or President Obama, a former community activist from the south side of Chicago with a great rhetorical gift?

The president answered that question this week by ordering Wagoner's firing.

Who'd a thunk it? I knew things weren't going to be good under an Obama administration but I really didn't think it would be this bad. And to add insult to injury... The One has the incredible chutzpah to chide GM about their balance sheet and debt... after submitting a budget to Congress that guarantees the largest deficits in our history. Just how we... the United States... are going to finance this debt remains to be seen, but let's not go down that road. Let's think about other things, such as going to the DMV (or some other to-be-announced Fed agency) to file a warranty claim on your GM car. Yeah. THAT will be fun, dontcha think?

―:☺:―

In other news... You know how I'm always going on about the wind here on The High Plains of New Mexico? Aside from being a real pain in the a$$ as far as comfort goes, the high winds can have real negative effects. Case in point (from the Portales News-Tribune.):

After wind knocked down a transmission line serving parts of Portales on Monday, 3,136 customers were without power for as long as almost 2 1/2 hours, Xcel Energy spokesmen said.

Spokesman Troy Foos said the power went off in stages, but the longest time before it was restored was two hours and 20 minutes. Spokesman Wes Reeves said power was back by about 5 p.m.

“We’ve had some wind issues across the whole system today,” Reeves said.

The wind caused several outages at once in the Portales and the Texas Panhandle, he said.

I was without power for about an hour and a half yesterday afternoon. It could have been worse, as it's said.

Cheesy Videos IV

Or… “There and Back… A Short Journey Through Portales.” There’s no other kind, actually.

Some notes on the video…

First: What you see is one of two videos I shot yesterday; there were issues with the outbound video (MUCH more about which below) and I didn’t upload it. I apologize for the shakiness of the video. I tried to stabilize the camera by holding it firmly against the steering wheel and was only moderately successful. It’s somewhat exciting to steer, shift a manual transmission, and film at the same time. I’m thinking I should include a “don’t try this at home” disclaimer but it ain’t all THAT hard, especially in a town the size of P-Ville.

Second: You just experienced a one-way trip from Wally-World (on the north side of Portales) through the totality of P-Ville… southbound on Second Street, the main drag… also known as US 70. On a good day I can drive all the way through town without stopping even once. This happens about two or three times a week.

Third: The soundtrack is selected cuts from Collective Soul’s “Hints, Allegations, and Things Left Unsaid” (1993), a favorite album from Former Happy Days.

Fourth: I’m surprised the cop (briefly visible in the vid, on the right as we come into town proper) didn’t pull me over. I didn’t see him until I was nearly past him, but I was only going about ten-over… my usual, customary and reasonable speed. One of these days, tho…

Fifth: It was a beautiful day (in the low 70s) and the top was most definitely down. Today was the first day where I felt like I might actually recover from last week’s Adventures In Modern Dentistry… and I briefly, oh-SO-briefly… considered doing a lightweight version of Happy Hour on my return. But I didn’t; we’ll hold off for another few days. I’m Jonesing in the worst way for a beer and a cigar, given it’s been a week today that I’ve been both alcohol- and tobacco-free.

Last: I added titles and credits to the video but decided not to use that version, as the aforementioned additions added well over 300 MB to the final file size (!!), an increase that also is probably associated with converting mp4 files to wmv format. So… what you see is raw, unedited video… the file sizes are MUCH smaller that way (but they are in HD; that’s something). FWIW… it takes FOR-FRICKIN’-EVER to upload a 600+ MB file to YouTube.

―:☺:―

Issues

Be advised: this is long. I thought long and hard about (a) writing about this at all and (b) posting the piece if I DO write about it. The issues I mentioned about the first of the two videos I shot yesterday weren’t technical in nature, they were social. And terrifying on at least two levels… so much so that I’m still shaken today, more than 18 hours after the events I’m about to relate transpired.

I got back from Wal-Mart around 1630 hrs and set to transferring the two videos I shot to the computer, played around with the Mino FlipShare movie-maker software, and began to upload the raw files to YouTube after the movie-maker thing proved unworkable. Around 1800 hrs there was a knock at my door and I got up to answer it. I opened the door and saw two guys standing there, one in his mid-40s or so and the other considerably younger. Both men had a sort of Aryan Nation look about them… powerfully built, short hair, black Harley tee shirts and that “I’ll kill you” look on their faces that Victor Davis Hanson was on about in that piece I posted yesterday… except the looks on their faces were “I’ll kill you,” meaning me... in frickin’ spades.

I said “hello” and asked how I could help them. The older of the two men said “My name is John (Something). You took some pictures today of some kids in a (vehicle). I want to see the pictures AND the camera.” This wasn’t a request, it was a demand, and in no uncertain terms. The younger man stood next to the older guy, silent with his arms folded over his chest, glaring at me. My first thought was “WTF?” And then I replied: “There are no pictures. I used a video camera today and I’ll show you the video, if you like.”

“Show me” was the reply.

I let the two of them into the RV and we went to the computer, whereupon I brought up the video. I began shooting the first video in the trailer park yesterday to give all y’all a bit of a flavor of my environment. I turned the camera on after I dropped off my trash at the dumpster, turned around, and proceeded towards the highway. In so doing I passed the mail kiosk, where there was a vehicle parked. A young girl of perhaps six or eight years of age was in the back seat, hanging out the window. She was smiling and waving so I pointed the camera at her as I passed and smiled back. The elapsed time couldn’t have been more than three seconds, if that, and given the shakiness of my videography skills… compounded by the fact I was in a moving car… her face was barely on-screen at all.

Older Aryan Guy growls: “I want you to put that video in my hand.”

“I can’t do that,” I replied.

“Do it or I’ll take the whole computer.” This was getting uglier by the minute, if not the second.

“What’s the problem here?” I asked.

“I don’t want pictures of my kids on the internet for perverts to look at. I spent 15 years in (some military organization) and I KNOW anyone can identify the exact place this video was shot.”

More conversation went down… him demanding, me refusing, Younger Guy standing by looking menacing. I don’t remember all that was said verbatim but it finally came down to “Let’s call the police.” Which was fine with me, as any fool could plainly see there was ZERO evil intent in play here, especially in the context of the rest of the video, which was me providing running commentary as I drove through Portales towards Wal-Mart. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed 411, asking the operator for the Portales police department’s number. My two friends said they would wait outside, and I went to the door with them, cell phone to my ear.

I proceeded to wait to be connected after assuring the 411 operator this wasn’t an emergency. A couple of minutes passed and no connection. I told the older man I had no idea what was going on; he replied “Call 911.” I refused, saying this wasn’t an emergency and there are laws about using 911 inappropriately. It was about this time I made a suggestion.

Me: “Look, that video doesn’t mean a damned thing to me and I can always re-shoot it, anyway. It obviously bothers you, so let’s go back inside and I’ll delete it. You can watch me do it.”

Him: “OK.”

So… we go back to the computer, which has Windows Explorer open from when I first showed them the video, and I do the shift-delete thing, which deletes the file rather than sending it to the trash. “Bong” goes the computer… “cannot delete file as it’s in use by another program.” I’d forgotten I was uploading to YouTube. I explained the issue to my two friends, canceled the YouTube upload… making damned sure they saw me do just that… and deleted the file.

Older Guy sez “You sure you deleted it? It’s gone?”

“Yes. It’s gone”

“I better not see that video anywhere,” sez he. And then they left.

I closed the door, relieved they were gone. I was pretty shaken up by this time, so I took one of those Acid C-Note cigarillos out of my humidor and fired it up… stitches be damned. I stood in the kitchen for about 20 minutes and smoked that cigarillo down to a nub, replaying the events of the last hour in my mind. I calmed down enough to return to the computer and began uploading the vid you see above.

Fast forward an hour… to around 2000 hrs; there’s another knock on the door. I open the door and there’s a police officer standing there. He says “I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes.” “OK, sez I… “Would you like to come in?” “Please,” he says.

This is where I’ll make a long story short. The police officer identified himself and why he was there… and it was all about the video. He asked me for identification. I gave him my drivers license, he called it in, I came back clean (Wow. Surprise!). I then I spent about 15 minutes explaining myself in great detail, answering his questions fully, accurately, and as simply as possible. It was about that time I wished I hadn’t deleted the damned video because I was now in a position of having to defend myself without incontrovertible proof of my innocence. And I told the officer that. He replied he thought the video wasn’t really gone and it could be recovered, if need be. I acknowledged that and told him that was certainly true but that I was no forensic PC specialist.

Fifteen more minutes had elapsed by that time and it appeared I had successfully convinced the officer that I was NOT a pervert, all this crap went down innocently enough, and my two Aryan Friends had grossly over-reacted. He agreed somewhat but allowed as how there are a lot of perverts in the world. I replied that I was offended at being accused of being one of them, when I’m clearly not. He simply nodded.

But wait… there’s more.

“Is there any marijuana in here?”

“No!”

“I smell marijuana smoke.”

“What you smell is the remnants of that cigarillo in the ashtray at your elbow.”

“Is there any marijuana in that?”

“No… let me show you.” I reached into the cabinet behind me, pulled out my humidor, and took the package of C-Notes out, handing them to the officer. He examined them closely.

“Is there any marijuana in these?”

“No” is what I said… “Do you think for a frickin’ minute I’d hand those to you if there was?” is what I thought.

The officer sniffed the cigarillo and handed it back to me.

“That could be what I smelled. Thank you and have a nice evening.”

And with that he left. It was now nearly 2100 hrs and I’m a complete frickin’ wreck. I remained a frickin’ wreck for the rest of the night. I couldn’t sleep. I tried, but I just kept replaying these events in my mind’s eye… they would NOT go away. I finally got up around 0330 after watching a LOT of teevee, made a half-pot of coffee and finished messing around with the YouTube video. I went back to bed around 0830 and finally fell asleep just after 1000 hrs. I slept exactly three hours.

So. All’s well that ends well, I suppose. But it’s a sorry state of affairs when a guy is accused of being a pedophile… and that’s what this was ALL about… for just pointing a video camera at a laughing, smiling little girl sitting in the back of a car. I’m still shaking as I type this, because there are VERY few things that are worse than what I went through yesterday. But, yeah… it COULD have been worse.

My Hero Today

That would be Commander Kurt Lippold, USN (ret). For this:

The former commander of the USS Cole, the American war ship that was struck by a suicide boat in Yemeni waters more than eight years ago, on Thursday slammed President Barack Obama's orders to close the Guantanamo detention center and reassess the prisoners being held there.

''We shouldn't make policy decisions based on human rights and legal advocacy groups,'' retired U.S. Navy Cmdr. Kurt Lippold said in a telephone interview. "We should consider what is best for the American people, which is not to jeopardize those who are fighting the war on terror — or even more adversely impact the families who have already suffered loses as a result of the war."

The Commander is absolutely, positively correct. But the lunatics appear to be in charge of the asylum these days. I don't doubt for a frickin' nanosecond there's more such madness from the Obama administration in the works. Hell, I know there is. It's spelled S-T-I-M-U-L-U-S. Among other things. But we digress.

Potpourri

So… here we are, three days into the latest outbreak of violence between the Israelis and Palestinians. And the Usual Suspects are all up in arms over “Israeli aggression.” I really don’t have much to say on this subject, other than to voice my support for Israel, yet again.

It takes a tremendous amount of chutzpah on the part of Arabs to ignore months and months of unprovoked assaults by Hamas in the form of rockets launched indiscriminately into Israel from Gaza… without regard for small details such as targeting… in any way, shape, or form. Like Popeye, Israel finally had “all they’s can take, and they can takes no more.” And their response, in stark contrast to Hamas, has focused on military targets.

Good hunting, IDF. Get some.

―:☺:―

Really Stupid Shit… Yesterday’s First Annual “Good Riddance Day,” held in New York City.

... and Todd Zarnock says goodbye to a list of things including drugs, women and shoplifting.
Credits: Watts/News Published: 12/29/2007 04:00:00

I know there are primitive societies in this wide, wide world that have similar sacrificial rituals… but here? In NYC? Who’d a thunk it? Well, on second thought… this did happen in New Yawk. Nuff said.

There's video here... and note the de rigeur Bush-Bashing. Dang. What will the moonbats do after January 20^th, eh?

―:☺:―

Also in the NYC Daily News… celebrity smokers… with photos of people generally unknown to me and suitably snarky comment. Example:

Whatcha got there, Salma Hayek?

The "Ugly Betty" star is the latest closet celebrity smoker to be exposed after she was spotted puffing away on American Spirits this weekend in Beverly Hills alongside her 1-year-old daughter, Valentina.

Cameras caught the secret smoker outside Neiman Marcus as she lit up while her mom and tiny tot waited.

Hayek told Marie Claire last year that she got hooked on cigarettes while filming "Frida" - and subsequently quit last April.

"It's the s---iest vice you could possibly pick," she said. "I've tried to quit before. But this time I'm done with it. I've changed."

But the 42-year-old isn't the only star who tries to keep her nicotine addiction under wraps

Well, now. Young Salma has good taste, if nothing else. American Spirit was my brand before I gave ‘em up, three years ago next month. But… what IS it with our fascination with “celebrity smokers,” anyway? I’m not immune from this phenomenon, ya know, what with having put up at least three posts over the course of the last year about The One’s habit. Speaking of…

But Mr Obama has admitted to "falling off the wagon" in the course of the campaign. The media has been judgmental. "Obama clearly relishes this opportunity to defeat bigotry and reframe the expectations of young people, especially African-Americans," the San Jose Mercury-News editorialised. "And yet, he smokes." He can set things right, the paper wrote, but only "if he makes a very public show of quitting".

It is less than self-evident why Mr Obama's forgoing the cigarette he sneaks every few weeks should be a matter of national importance. There is no consistent relationship between smoking and performance of official duties. It is true, according to the historian Michael Oren, that Yitzhak Rabin, the Israeli chief of staff, was taken to hospital with nicotine poisoning at the height of the six-day war, but he was on 100 a day. Cigars buoyed Churchill in the second world war. Whether or not smoking makes you think more clearly, the former German chancellor, Helmut Schmidt, who celebrated his 90th birthday last week, must count as one of the sharpest thinkers and heaviest smokers among world leaders of the last half-century.

That’s an excerpt from The Financial Times (UK), from an article titled “No smoke without ire,” which goes on to address the “tricky constitutional question” of whether or not Mr. Obama’s personal quarters in the White House are part and parcel of a no-smoking federal building. That IS a most weighty issue, dontcha think?

As far as Mr. Rabin is concerned… 100 ciggies a day? That’s five packs a day or one cigarette every 15 minutes, assuming the man was awake 24 hours a day. Or, in other words, ol’ Yitzhak never put ‘em out… he literally had to light one off the other, non-stop. And I thought I smoked a lot, at a pack and a half a day. Heh.

―:☺:―

Today’s Random Thought: As one grows older one begins to realize there are worse things in a relationship than your average mother-in-law. Such as: your girlfriend’s children. More specifically, your girlfriend’s adult children.

I’m not throwing stones at any one (or more) individual(s), mind you. Just sayin’.

―:☺:―

Along the same lines as the item above, kinda-sorta… excerpts from an e-mail conversation with a good friend yesterday (certain terms have been redacted to preserve EIP’s PG-13 rating):

My Friend: As you know I check your blog daily and frankly sometimes I have concerns for you because I am, after all, your friend and thus retain that right. I do suggest you get laid though because you exemplify the worst case of a man needing (redacted) that I've ever seen. I suspect that one or two of your "blog buddies" would be more than happy to help you out. That being said, Merry Christmas old friend and of course happy New Year which I will celebrate with you at the stroke of midnight with a couple of fingers of my favorite 15 year old single malt.

Me: |I do suggest you get laid though because you exemplify the worst case of a man needing (redacted) that I've ever seen.

Oh... c'mon! I'm not that bad! Think of all those guys in prison. OTOH, they're probably having all the sex they want (and MORE than they want, in some cases), but it's NOT the sort of experience I care to learn. As a s'matter of fact, the thought of (redacted) rarely even crosses my mind. There are some bennies to achieving Old Age, not the least of which is the Bigger Head taking control over the Little Head. There was a time in life when I'd be prowling the streets upon finding myself without a steady source. No more. The thought of entanglements is more than enough to discourage what little interest I have in that certain physical activity. OK, some of the foregoing is bullshit, plain and simple. But... that said... I'd fix it, were I in dire need. There are MANY women "looking" these days, even for us Ol Farts. Maybe even especially us Ol Farts... as we tend to die off earlier than our female counterparts.

My friend’s observation concerns me and I view it not unlike a medical diagnosis. As such, I believe I need a second opinion (and not “You’re ugly, too!”). Do I appear to be a man in severe need, Gentle Reader? I don’t think so, but then again… we oftentimes don’t see ourselves as others see us.

From the Sublime to the Ridiculous...

What he said… “he” being Victor Davis Hanson… in his essay “Ten Random, Politically Incorrect Thoughts.” A couple of excerpts:

6. Something has happened to the generic American male accent. Maybe it is urbanization; perhaps it is now an affectation to sound precise and caring with a patina of intellectual authority; perhaps it is the fashion culture of the metrosexual; maybe it is the influence of the gay community in arts and popular culture. Maybe the ubiquitous new intonation comes from the scarcity of salty old jobs in construction, farming, or fishing. But increasingly to meet a young American male about 25 is to hear a particular nasal stress, a much higher tone than one heard 40 years ago, and, to be frank, to listen to a precious voice often nearly indistinguishable from the female. How indeed could one make Westerns these days, when there simply is not anyone left who sounds like John Wayne, Richard Boone, Robert Duvall, or Gary Cooper much less a Struther Martin, Jack Palance, L.Q. Jones, or Ben Johnson? I watched the movie Twelve O’clock High the other day, and Gregory Peck and Dean Jagger sounded liked they were from another planet. I confess over the last year, I have been interviewed a half-dozen times on the phone, and had no idea at first whether a male or female was asking the questions. All this sounds absurd, but I think upon reflection readers my age (55) will attest they have had the same experience. In the old days, I remember only that I first heard a variant of this accent with the old Paul Lynde character actor in one of the Flubber movies; now young men sound closer to his camp than to a Jack Palance or Alan Ladd.

10. The K-12 public education system is essentially wrecked. No longer can any professor expect an incoming college freshman to know what Okinawa, John Quincy Adams, Shiloh, the Parthenon, the Reformation, John Locke, the Second Amendment, or the Pythagorean Theorem is. An entire American culture, the West itself, its ideas and experiences, have simply vanished on the altar of therapy. This upcoming generation knows instead not to judge anyone by absolute standards (but not why so); to remember to say that its own Western culture is no different from, or indeed far worse than, the alternatives; that race, class, and gender are, well, important in some vague sense; that global warming is manmade and very soon will kill us all; that we must have hope and change of some undefined sort; that AIDs is no more a homosexual- than a heterosexual-prone disease; and that the following things and people for some reason must be bad, or at least must in public company be said to be bad (in no particular order): Wal-Mart, cowboys, the Vietnam War, oil companies, coal plants, nuclear power, George Bush, chemicals, leather, guns, states like Utah and Kansas, Sarah Palin, vans and SUVs.

I found myself nodding this ol’ gray head north-south as I read the ten things that tick Mr. Hanson off. There’s an assumption in that last sentence, but I feel pretty safe in saying VDH doesn’t look upon any of the things he mentions as a “good,” with the sole exception of his proposal that we (re)introduce Latin as a compulsory subject in public school. Yes… Latin. I can see the wisdom in Mr. Hanson’s proposal, even though I never took Day One of Latin. I did, however, take seven years of French… and that’s reasonably close. I really, truly feel my love for the English language (and my competency, too… such as it is) is directly related to the fact I was once fluent in French. That and the fact I had competent teachers back in the day (see VDH Item Ten, above).

As far as VDH Item Six goes… yes, I have had similar experiences. But NOT since I moved to New Mexico, not locally, at least. I personally think the feminizing of the Young American Male’s accent and manner of speech is mostly a metropolitan phenomenon, which VDH admits is a possibility. I encountered it all too frequently while living in the San Francisco Bay Area Soviet Socialist Republic, and that was six years ago. OTOH, the guys with the suspect accents I ran into just might have been gay. I’ve heard there are a lot of gay guys there, but have no personal experience in that space. (Added, later: the foregoing was said in jest. Of course there are lotsa gays in SFO, we all know that. The point I was trying to make... and badly, at that... was my GAYDAR sucks, for the most part. I can recognize blatant gay-ness nine out of ten times, like the stuff one sees in the Castro district. Otherwise? Hard for me to tell, if I even thought about it. Which I usually didn't.)

Nonetheless… I agree with VDH, especially when it comes to really old movies. But here’s yet another thought: all the guys in those really old movies, particularly war movies, smoked. And we all know what smoking cigarettes does to your voice… or at least we should. Think on that for a moment, Gentle Reader (whilst shedding a metaphorical tear [if you’re male] for those smoky female voices of yesteryear… like Suzanne Pleshette or Tallulah Bankhead. If you’re female you have lotsa male voices to choose from — see above).

Mr. Hanson closes his essay with a simple statement: “Well, with that done—I feel much better.” I’m sure you will, too… if’n ya read the whole thing.

―:☺:―

Signs o’ The Impending Apocalypse… (part of an on-going series)

“Obama collectibles:” Results 1 - 10 of about 2,210,000 for obama collectibles. (0.22 seconds)

“Obama commemorative:” Results 1 - 10 of about 659,000 for obama commemorative. (0.14 seconds)

“Obama collectors items:” Results 1 - 10 of about 364,000 for obama collectors items. (0.26 seconds)

“Obama collectors items” (images): Results 1 - 21 of about 256,000 for obama collectors items. (0.10 seconds

“Obama collectible magazines:” Results 1 - 10 of about 59,200 for obama collectible magazines. (0.17 seconds)

“Obama collectible coins:” Results 1 - 10 of about 24,100 for obama collectible coins. (0.21 seconds)

God Save Us.

Dirty Work... Second Try

Well… I’ve been wondering, ya know. I’ve asked the question from time to time and have never really gotten an answer. Why? Because there is no answer. Michael Kinsley, writing in the WaPo (“Let the Guy Smoke”):

Obama has never denied that he was a smoker for much of his adult life. He said as early as February 2007 that he had promised his wife he would quit in order to run for president. He also admitted as recently as this June -- when his presidential campaign was about three-quarters over -- that he hadn't done so. In May the Obama campaign released a carefully worded letter from his doctor, who wrote that Obama's "own history included intermittent cigarette smoking. He has quit this practice on several occasions and is currently using Nicorette gum with success." Obama has declined to amplify.

The instructions on Nicorette say to stop smoking before starting with the gum and to stop using the gum after 12 weeks. We know, because he has said as much, that Obama was still smoking the month after his doctor said he was using the gum. And even if he smoked his last cigarette on May 28, the day before his doctor said he was on gum therapy, the 12 weeks would have elapsed Aug. 20. Wouldn't you think that some reporter since then would have asked Obama whether the gum had worked? Yet no one seems to have asked.

“No one seems to have asked.” Dang, I may have heard that line before… somewhere. Ya think? This issue is a nit, to be sure, but it’s also symptomatic of the general lack of curiosity on the part of The Media where The One is concerned, innit? I’m also somewhat taken aback at Kinsley’s last word on this subject:

Obama's steely calm is now one of our country's major assets. If he needs an occasional cigarette to preserve it, let's hand him an ashtray, offer him a light and look the other way.

An Über-Lib offering apologies for the nasty habit, including a suggestion we just look the other way or even facilitate this deviant behavior? Well, now! Who’d a thunk it? No one gave ME that option back in the day when I still indulged. Nope… I had to go huddle in the doorway down on the street along with the rest of the degenerates to get my fix, all the while subjected to hard looks, glares, and the not-at-all-well-concealed opprobrium of passers by. One wonders if there will be ashtrays in the Oval Office or if Barack will have to step outside into the Rose Garden to quiet his Jones. Ditto for Air Force One, where I’m sure smoking is banned. Oh, well. We must be tolerant now, mustn’t we?

―:☺:―

Blown opportunity… That would be yesterday. I was up until the crack o’ dawn yesterday morning, going to bed somewhere around 0600 and staying that way until 1300 hrs. This sort of behavior always leaves me with something akin to a hangover, minus the throbbing pain. Nope… it’s just that left-of-center, out of sorts feeling that hangs on most of the day before we finally get back to what passes for “normal” here at El Casa Móvil De Pennington. So… why is this a blown opportunity, you ask? The weather, Gentle Reader… the weather. Yesterday was just flat frickin’ gorgeous. Bright sunshine, 72 degrees (at 1400 hrs, an hour after I woke up), and no wind. Perfect Happy Hour weather, in other words. I blew if off.

And I have regrets:

Today is NOT a nice day here on The High Plains of New Mexico. We will defer Happy Hour until sometime this weekend, as it were. More’s the pity.

―:☺:―

Finally… here’s some Steely Dan for ya. There’s no point at all to the Clintonista imagery, although it IS entertaining in a retro kinda way. Sorta. Nope… what we’re on about here is Dirty Work’s superb music and lyrics, as the song happens to be one of my all-time favorite Steely Dan tunes.

Good, innit? I'd tell ya why this song (ahem) strikes a lot of different chords with me... but I don't want to shatter any illusions you may hold about my...umm... moral values (and those of certain women in my past, as well). I leave you to wonder, Gentle Reader.

(You may ask what this "Second Try" is all about... I originally published this piece at 0942 hrs this morning. Blog-Bud Barry e-mailed me a few minutes ago to let me know the post was showing up in his RSS reader, but NOT in his browser. Sho 'nuff... IE couldn't see it, but all was well in FireFox. I cut and pasted the post into a NEW post, written in Blogger's "Compose" window, but the cut 'n' pasted bits didn't show up when I hit "publish." BOTH offending pieces have been removed... and I'm left looking a lil bit like the Verizon Guy... which is to say, wondering: "Can you see me NOW?")