Thank You Note
For this guy.
*&^%E#$^!!!!
I just got a call from my mechanic.
The good news is that my van passed the emissions component of its annual inspection.
The bad news is that I need a new axle, two new idler arms, one passenger side upper control arm, an alignment, a new tire, and some headlight work.
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Grand total: $895.00
The van has 123,000 miles on it and a gasoline engine. My bet is that at about 180,000 the compression will start to die, and with the regular trips to get Sam, 180K is closer than it sounds. Never mind that the shitty mileage is killing me.
I think I have to start thinking about a new used car, preferably a 4-cylinder (for mileage sake) or a diesel (ditto, plus the engine will run for a million miles and can be converted to run on vegetable oil), and almost certainly a wagon (so my upright bass, which is as tall as me but doesn’t bend at the waist can fit inside).
It’d be a shame to spend my surplus stimulating the economy, so I think I’m going to sell the van for as much as I can, save up a few bucks over my next couple of paychecks, and buy an old Toyota, Honda, or Mazda.
Fuck. I really didn’t need this expense. $200.00 in repairs I could live with. Nearly $900.00? No way.
Joe Lieberman Sticks a Shiv in his Friend
Although I’m now an Obama supporter, many readers know it took me a long time to get to this point. One of my biggest arguments against Obama was that he was too quick to move to the center. After all, this is the guy who embraced Joe Liberman has his “mentor” in the Senate:
Hence Vietor’s sensitivity to the allusion in my column to Obama’s “mentor” being Senator Joe Lieberman. As a freshman senator, Vietor insisted, Obama had been assigned Lieberman as mentor. Read the Hartford Courant and you’ll find Lieberman boasting that Obama picked him.
Either way, it’s obvious that Obama could have brokered a different mentor if he’d so desired, the same way he could have declined to go and tout for Lieberman at that Democratic Party dinner in Connecticut at the end of March. But he clearly didn’t, because he wanted to send out a reassuring signal, in the same way he’s doing with his PAC, the Hopefund, which is raising money for fourteen of his senate colleagues. According to BlackCommentator, ten of them are DLC–half the DLC presence in the Senate.
Furthermore, during the 2006 election, when there was an opportunity to get rid of Holy Joe, Obama went out of his way to support his friend and mentor:
U.S. Sen. Barack Obama rallied Connecticut Democrats at their annual dinner Thursday night, throwing his support behind mentor and Senate colleague Joe Lieberman.
Obama, an Illinois Democrat who is considered a rising star in the party, was the keynote speaker at the annual Jefferson Jackson Bailey Dinner.
Lieberman, Connecticut’s junior senator, is under fire from some liberal Democrats for his support of the Iraq War. He was key in booking Obama, who routinely receives more than 200 speaking invitations each week.
Some at Thursday’s dinner said that while they were pleased with Lieberman’s success in bringing Obama to Connecticut, they still consider Lieberman uncomfortably tolerant of the Bush administration.
Obama wasted little time getting to that point, calling it the “elephant in the room” but praising Lieberman’s intellect, character and qualifications.
“The fact of the matter is, I know some in the party have differences with Joe. I’m going to go ahead and say it,” Obama told the 1,700-plus party members who gathered in a ballroom at the Connecticut Convention Center for the $175-per-head fundraiser.
“I am absolutely certain Connecticut is going to have the good sense to send Joe Lieberman back to the U.S. Senate so he can continue to serve on our behalf,” he said.
And what has Holy Joe, friend and mentor to Obama done in return? Looks to me like he fashioned himself a shiv:
What a royal asshole Joe Lieberman is. He should have his committee assignments taken from him. Unfortunately, the Senate is run by another Royal Asshole: Hapless Harry Reid.
With friends like Joe Lieberman, who needs enemies?
Oy
Amy Argetsinger, Village idiot
According to Amy Argetsinger in the Post, “First daughter’s decision to wed privately disappoints a public fascinated by her coming of age.”
Click on the thumbnail for a better view
There are really so many kernels of undigested corn gems in this steaming turd of an article, I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know what world Ms. Argetsinger lives in, but I don’t know anyone who gives a shit about Jenna’s Bush’s nuptuals.
What, you want more? Of course you do! We’re talking about the president’s daughter here, and media organizations as varied as “Access Hollywood” and Agence France-Presse have poured into this tiny community — home to George and Laura Bush’s 1,600-acre ranch — to cover what some consider the celebrity wedding of the year.
But despite the widespread interest — and despite the blond First Twin’s increasingly public profile as a published author and do-gooder — the White House has repeatedly made clear that this is a private event.
How about the fact that the President in question is the most unpopular and despised president EVER? Or thet “First Twin’s” previously public profile as a drunk and a drug user who not only got thrown out of other countries, but didn’t have the class to leave.
Pardon me if I doubt that America’s very impressed, or really very interested in the wedding of some rich guy’s rich daughter when the rest of us are struggling to feed our families and put gas in our cars thanks to her father’s failed war and weak-dollar economy. We can’t afford bread here in the real world, why would anyone care to watch while Jenna Bush eats cake?
But that was a different era — before the growth of the wedding-industrial complex and the 24-hour news cycle. And they were different brides, well into adulthood by the time their parents entered the White House and well past 30 at the altar. In Jenna Bush, we have the first White House bride in decades whom the public truly watched grow up — and one who has trod a fascinating tightrope between private citizen and public celebrity.
That’s an interesting way of describing Ms. Bush, because from what I understand, and as google confirms, the Bush Family has ” tried to keep their daughters out of the hurly burly of the campaign and out of the public spotlight”.
[May 25, 2000] They don’t campaign. They don’t appear in political ads. They don’t pose for pictures. George W. Bush’s twin teen-age daughters so treasure their privacy that their reluctance to become public figures was at the forefront of the family deliberations over entering a presidential campaign. …
From BUSH KEEPS HIS TWINS OUT OF PUBLIC EYE - Charlotte Observer ($$)
[Dec 19, 2000] She’s been adamant about keeping the daughters out of the public eye. “Where you see the tiger in the tank will be about protecting that zone of privacy,” Dr. Whillock said. Mrs. Bush also has been overseeing the completion of the new ranch house near Crawford that will become the Bush family’s …
From Laura Bush expected to provide calming influence,… - Dallas Morning News ($$)
[Jun 8, 2000] Mrs. Bush, still described as a stabilizer to her husband, says she often keeps the TV off to avoid seeing hurtful things about her husband. The Bushes have tried to keep their daughters out of the hurly burly of the campaign and out of the public spotlight that shines on the Texas governor, …
From George W. Bush: Easy to underestimate - USA Today
Amy also seems to forget that Clintons had a daughter who grew up in the public eye too. That would be Chelsea Clinton, who people like Presidential candidate John McCain felt free to malign and make fun of, even though she was about 13 years old. You remember Chelsea: she’s the one who’s not falling down drunk all over the place, getting kicked out of Argentina, or acting like a spoiled little shit.
Which is why First Twin-watchers were stunned last year when it was announced that Jenna would not only write a young-adult book about poverty and HIV in Central America — “Ana’s Story” — but also embark on the requisite public speaking and interview circuits. Suddenly, Jenna was everywhere, displaying a natural poise and likability as she parceled out personal anecdotes (Henry’s pre-dawn proposal on Maine’s Cadillac Mountain; how her dad makes the two of them sleep in separate rooms; how she’d love to meet Chelsea Clinton) in a husky, cool-girl voice.
This is what most ordinary people recognize as “trying to rehabilitate your reputation”.
“People are fascinated by this remaking of Jenna” from party girl to serious educator/advocate type, said Jellison, who has studied American weddings and followed Jenna’s trajectory. “That may be creating more curiosity about her.”
Oh wait, I thought she was a “burrowed into a close-knit group of friends who loyally protected her privacy.” Where does this “party girl” stuff come from? Oh wait…
I guess in the long run, Ms. Argetsinger’s fawning profile is of little import, but with ordinary Americans unable to fill their gas tanks or afford to feed their families, when thousands of our kids are coming home dead from the First Family’s pointless war, when our infrastructure is falling apart, it’s hard not to point out how crass, how out-of-touch, and how truly tasteless the courtesans of the Village really are.
It must be nice to live in whatever dimension Amy Argetsinger lives in. It must be nice.
What Sadly No Said.
Have Obama and his supporters fucked up and been nasty and divisive and shitty at times? Yeah. So has she and so have hers. Both deserve to be raked over the coals when they sling Rovian mud at each other or blatantly and unconstructively break the 11th commandment or fling race and gender cards around or talk about obliterating Iran or invading Pakistan.
But here’s what I don’t get and maybe Lambert et. al. can help me out. On the one hand, you guys notice every wart on Obama’s face, which, again, is perfectly fine. And yet you are stunningly blind to any on Hillary’s. And really, they’re not hard to miss.
It’s like you project the entire long history of progressive discontent with centrist, party hack Democrats onto Barack Obama, again, fine, but then you turn around and somehow project Dennis Kucinich onto your own candidate. Who is Hillary Clinton. I repeat, Hillary-fucking-Clinton. Who is a real person, with a real legislative record, not some doll you can put overalls on and call Working Class Hero Hills! Now with Gas Tax Holiday Grip!
So I have to ask: why are you doing this? And really, I want to know, because it looks very much like Obama is going to be the nominee and I hope you all come home to support him. Or to turn things out and attempt to be a little more gracious, what do Obama and his supporters need to do today to get you into this car?
Well?
Good Times
Kids are funny the way they pick up their parents’ habits and catchphrases. Sam’s picked up a couple from his mom. When she’s trying to get him to focus, she says “Sam, can I talk to you for a minute?”, and he uses it all the time when he feels he’s not being paid enough attention. “Christina?” he says, gesturing withi his hand for her to come closer. “Christina, can I talk to you for a minute?” I have more than a few. “Duuude!?!” when he’s being unreasonable; “Good times” when we’re having fun, the eternal favorite “Learn how to drive!”, and of course “C’mon MAN!” when I need Sam to cooperate.
Toward the end of Sam’s January visit, we took a nice walk through Bartram’s Garden. The CSX freight tracks run through the northwest side of the park along the meadow trail, and we would stop every few minutes to watch a freight pass by.
It was a beautiful day, the height of January thaw during these last few years before the global warming catastrophe really starts to hit us. The mid-afternoon sun glanced off the Center City skyline a mile or so away on the other side of the river while a crow cawed at its neighbor. A blue and-yellow diesel hummed by, bell clanging steadily.
We watched the engine disappear around the bend and set off again along the path holding hands when Sam looked up at me and said, “Daddy?”
“Yes, Sam?”
“Good times, Daddy. Good times.”
Little guy used it right, too.
The War
Via Gorilla’s Guides on-site, indigenous, and independent reporting from Iraq.
When I see pictures like this, I imagine “what if it was Sam?”
Right now civilians are fleeing the Sadr City slums because my country is bombing them, in a stupid and doomed effort to destroy the Sadr movement. Sadr, as you may know, opposes the Bush-propped Maliki government, which is also backed by –SURPRISE!– the Iranians, who the US –SURPRISE!– blames for everything and against who the Bush Administration is trying to gin up a war.
What if it was Sam? The little boy in the picture is only 2. My guy is only 4.
What if it was Sam?
What if it was your kid?
We have to end this fucking war and bring our troops home. We have to punish the people who led us down this path.
I’m not holding my breath.
Still Gone
Commenting at this guy’s place, I’m reminded of the time I realized I’d lost my mind.
I had just moved to Philadelphia with Jim and Jennie and the Pinetops, which is a fun story in itself. I’d moved in with my bandmates over the summer of 1998. Every night we’d practice and on the weekends we’d travel to New York City to gig with our banjo player and fiddle player, both Philadelphia residents. In September, I’d finally taken a my first real creative job as an ad copy writer. Sure, it only paid $22,500 per year, but it was a REAL JOB with a FUTURE that happened to be tons of fun. Two months later, I came home to learn that the band was moving to Philadelphia.
“Not only does it cut the commute to New York down by an hour and a half, we’ll be able to really get stuff done with Brad and Chris,” Jim said. “We’re hoping you’re going to come with us.”
That was an easy decision. I was newly single, coming back from a break up I thought would kill me, and immediately said “Well of COURSE I’m coming along. I fucking HATE it here!”
I remember the call to my father. The last time I’d made a big move like this, I had just been accepted at UMass. We were at my Uncle Ted’s funeral (and I have a great story about Ted I really have to write). Melissa and I had missed the service, but arrived in the pouring rain as Ted’s casket was lowered into the grave. His wife, my Aunt Selma, was hysterical, hugging Ted’s sister, my grandmother Ida, to her chest like a sister, which was blackly funny because the two women hated each other with a passion of Biblical proportions.
Ted’s death had been expected: he was a fat guy who came home from his job as an independent manufacturer, ate the same meal of a knoblewurst sandwich with mustard on rye every night, followed by a few cans of Meister Brau, and endless Garcia y Vegas smoked while he watched TV from his recliner until he went to bed.
A diet like this leads nowhere good, and my Uncle, who was a very funny and quirky guy, ended up dying of colorectal cancer.
After the ceremony, my father and I walked back toward my truck. “I’m proud of you,” he said, referring to the decision to transfer to UMass. “You decided what you wanted to do, you made a plan, and you executed it! I think UMass will work out wonderfully for you.”
Five years later, I was calling to tell him I was moving to Philadelphia. To pursue a new career. As a bluegrass musician.
“WHAT. ABOUT. YOUR JOB?” was my dad’s response, very different from his reaction to my last decision to do what I wanted to do and carrying out a plan.
So I moved to Philadelphia in January 1999, after recording our debut album in the middle of an ice storm that paralyzed New England. I crashed on Brad’s sofa for a few weeks, and moved into an apartment at 50th and Hazel. I was working a temp job which gave me the open schedule to practice until 11:00 PM twice a week and gig nearly every weekend in Philly or New York. Good times.
I don’t know the exact date, probably early March, when I realized it was gone. So I sent out an email, the screenshot of which is long gone, but which I will always remember:
To whom it may concern:
It appears I have lost my mind. If you find it, please keep it in a cool, dry place. I’m not sure if I’ll be needing it again.
Love,
Brendan
It’s still gone. Haven’t seen it for years. I haven’t given up hope, but it’s pushing a decade now.
Eddy Arnold 1918-2008
I was never a huge fan of Eddy Arnold (although Uncle Fucker covered his hit “Tennesee Stud”), but the guy was a bona fide legend of country music. He started out as a cowboy singer/yodeler, but after a few years in Nashville he became a super-slick balladeer in the Nashvegas style: lots of strings, chirpy back-up singers, and syrupy lyrics that make your teeth rot.
Here’s a video featuring “Tennessee Stud” and “Cattle Call”, two of his most long-lasting songs.
Send In the Clowns
I think what we’re seeing here is a real racial divide. It was engineered, deliberately, by Obama’s campaign in order to separate African Americans from the Clintons. It has worked spectacularly well. Obama consistently wins urban and southern AA voters, by lopsided margins. It didn’t have to be this way. There was no reason for the African-American community to spurn Clinton. But in this America, in 2008, color is everything. It seems like the civil rights movement of the 60’s was just a dream. As long as you are the right color, you’re golden. Color masks a multitude of deficiencies- experience, knowledge base, earned coalitions, even interest. Obama has not reached out to the working class, to women, to the elderly, the loyal base of the Democratic party. But he has managed to exacerbate the fault line in the party when it comes to race. There’s no doubt about that now.
“I have a much broader base to build a winning coalition on,” she said in an interview with USA TODAY. As evidence, Clinton cited an Associated Press article “that found how Sen. Obama’s support among working, hard-working Americans, white Americans, is weakening again, and how whites in both states who had not completed college were supporting me.”
“There’s a pattern emerging here,” she said.
There certainly is a pattern emerging.
If I was African American, how would I interpret this comment by Senator Clinton, which implies that if hard-working white people are voting for her then the opposite support Obama?
No, no reason to spurn Clinton at all. Entire groups of people actually prefer to be summarily dismissed and discounted by Presidential candidates. That’s why I support Clintoon: scoffing at my college education and inferring that I’m an elitist always brings out the best in me. Also, after 8 years of rule by those who pander to the uneducated, I’m ready for a few more years. Why not: thinking is hard!