Harvey Korman Dies at 81

Now there is officially no one who will laugh at Tim Conway.

Ten Years Ago Saturday

Sunday May 24, 1998

Jim Asbury died today. Well, they found him today. Apparently whatever happened to him happened late last night. He was alone. I guess we are all alone when that happens unless someone happens to be dying next to us or we’re on a plane that’s going down or something more social like that. Crazy Julie called the Ambersonphone at 9:30pm to let us know her brother and ours had a heart attack. She told Bill it was painless.

This was not a total surprise, but it was a shock. Jim had a heart condition. It was related to that heart fungus or virus thing I wrote about before. I now know three people who have it but poor Jimmy was the only one it took, so far.

He had the heart condition and he drank and he smoked and he ate like Henry VIII (maybe more crabmeat than that fat, dead Brit) and he stayed out all night…and he died on the transplant list.

Dev, Joe and Bill were definitely closer to him but we had a lot of fun adventures together. He would introduce me as “the guy who writes the songs I always talk about.”

Jim and Blackie hosted what, I think, was the last Floating Basement show ever. It was the social event of that summer and the only place that may have had more holy fungi was that mystical Canadian island or wherever it is. I don't even know how to embarrass myself sometimes.

Jim was a beautiful guy who didn’t mind getting a little ugly from time to time and I can totally respect that.

When he loved something like a movie or a band he loved it all the way. He loved it until you said, “Goddamn it Jim!! Turn that shit off!”

Then he turned it up.

Drank too much Buschmills and it was not enough.

We made the bartender play the whole Small Change disc and told Jimmy stories. Mine was the one where we drank whiskey until he passed out in this very bar (real low class story telling by me I already turned this sad thing into ghost story material but at some point everyone was too drunk to be sensitive) the paramedics were called but Jimmy came to while help was on the way. He thought that this behavior might get him in more trouble than it was worth or kicked off the heart transplant list or I don't know why but he enlisted my support in helping convince the paramedics he lived at my apartment, his phone number was really Devin's and his name was Joe Cheese-it. Hyphen added my me.

I am not sure how I made it home but I remember laying next to Kim and then bursting into tears repeating, “Our buddy is gone. He’s really gone.”

Goodbye Jimmy.

CQ Don't Leave No Gravy

Great SOX game last night. I displayed my SOX pride for the beloved hometown squadron as their game with the Halos made the Sunday Night Game of the Week. Ask Kim, I yelled for joy the whole damned night. Some of that joy-yelling was for the baseball.

John Lachey pitched a hell of a game. I felt bad for the guy. He looked so sad after Mr. American League Home Run Leader parked his last pitch in the left field seats. He looked sort of like this…

Sorry Mitch Hurowitz fans.

And how did I feel when Carlos knocked out that game winning home run? Kinda sorta like this…

Working hard on laundry, bills and writing today – between Sunday and today I’ve cranked out 5 decent pages for the MOI. I am also starting a MOI blog for those interested in reading the whole piece that spawned the Racoon short story. It vacillates between coroners inquest testimony (from a real case, names have been changed to protect the long dead) and the fictional shit provided by me. MOI, for those interested stands for Matter of the Inquest. That is the title, even if there are ten books with that name, mine will be the 11th.

You won’t get everything in the blog. A big part of reading this thing is the way the pages are actually going to appear in the book…they will look more like actual records then they do in the blog. I am dedicated to recreating the experience I had when I first opened the dusty old box and found this 220 page coroner’s inquest from Lake County from the 1930’s.

This of course guarantees that self-publication is the only option for a boob like me. But I don't give a fuck. I am dedicated...no, hopelessly in love with my hair-brained ideas.

Those who know something about coroner’s inquests from that time period, in that part of the country, might also know that they are usually 15 to 20 pages in length. This thing was a monstrosity and had me hooked from the 2nd or 3rd page on…

You can find the MOI blog here but only part of the 1st faux courtroom page is up.

Dionysus in the Sunshine

I understand why certain ancient peoples chose to worship the sun. It is just past midnight and I am sobering up after a day of sun-fueled (and booze-fueled) moderately bad behavior. Even when I couldn’t be trusted to watch a dog…

Younger ed to soon to be ex-girlfriend: “Look, I don’t know how the puke stains got on your dog but I did a good job taking care of it while you and your folks were out of town.”
Soon to be ex-girlfriend to younger ed: “That’s not our dog.”

…but even back in those days I got in less trouble and enjoyed myself more out in the sun rather than doing or consuming the same things after dark.

Why?

The sun and open sky always seem to make life lighter. Time spent with friends in the sun is infinitely worth it. Even if I get the skin cancer…

“And me with the cancer…”

Sorry fans of No Country for Old Men

Thanks and much love to dear friends who chose to spend this day in the sun with me and my little crew. Thanks to the good folks at Rosita’s who let us push back our reservations several times and turned a blind eye to the shameful abuse of soap in the men’s room. I cleaned most of it up.

Finally, thanks be to Nature or Nature’s God for giving my son a powerful gag reflex. If not for the boy’s esophageal strength we might have ended up in the emergency room after the shameful abuse of Rosita’s complimentary mints. Remember kids, the mints are complimentary until you start turning blue.

A day of fun in the sun did not leave me any more relaxed in dealing with this minor crisis, but I figure that’s why Alex has two parents…the good one and the presently mustachioed, occasionally drinky, sometimes neurotic, oftentimes obnoxious but always grateful pseudo-sun worshiper.

Guess which one I am…

If God is 7

Sorry Pixies fans.

Seven in a row SOX fans and it is a beautiful thing. I've probably cursed them and blown any chances of a sweep against the hated Indians. Here's hoping that #56 has a good outing tonight and gets good defense behind him. Buehrle hasn't been able to pitch around mistakes this year but maybe one or two games where things go right for the guy and it could turn the season around.

No hit for CQ last night? Maybe the Diamondback reclamation project will hit three dongs and help out MB tonight.

Cub fans, don't worry about what happened in Houston they've got the Pirates for the weekend. It's like giving the team a weekend off, or a team playing against my company's softball team.

It's my annual BLOW OFF WORK ON THE BEST DAY FOR GOLF IN THE CHICAGO LAND AREA DAY!

I gotta come up with a better name for this semi-sacred holiday.

If anybody listened to the Mike Murphey show today they heard the list of reasons elevating this day above all others for golf in this part of the world.

If you are reading this at work and feel jealous, don't worry - - your paycheck is probably 800 times larger than mine.

I am the Carlos Quentin to your Alphonso Sorriano.

My quality of life is great...but I gotta live it on the cheap.

It’s later and I’m relaxing on the deck of My Blue Heaven with the laptop and a can of Pyle. If anyone wants a sense of the backyard view...

NOT THAT YOU SICK BASTARDS!

...of our blue heaven, Kim took some magnificent pics.

Today was one of those days on the golf course that tests your maturity and self-control. For some inexplicable reason I passed. Started out bogey - bogey and then really hit some great shots with the irons.

Jeremy?

Then my driver went to absolute shit. I could not hit worth a damn. I began losing balls at an alarming rate and was barely able to finish 18. I tried going a few holes over and then I was out of balls. How could the afternoon start out so promising and then take a downturn like that?

That’s the game of golf. Forever humbling.

Since I quit fucking teaching I now have the time to hone in on writing stuff that…well, let’s just say doing stuff that satisfies me. It’s worth to the world, if any, is yet to be determined. But the more I get into that kind of shit, the more I need my family and even stupid stuff like golf. My family, esp my kid - seeing the world through his eyes…keeps me in touch with living. Seven year olds do not give a shit about the problems of narrative, editing and creating realistic (but still interesting) dialogue. They do not care about style, culture, the latest trends, tradition any of that fuckery…they just care about living to the extend they understand it.

Jesus was right in as many ways as a man (or Son of Man) can be right when he said that we should be like the little children.

Back to golf. It gives me a chance to fail at something I don’t really care that much about…

Does that make sense?

Oh yeah, the reason I passed the test is I didn't lose my fucking mind when I started spraying balls all over the course. If this happens on Saturday my reaction will be the same. No big deal. Just happy to be out there with the bigDrag boys, chasing our little white balls.

Good practice last night. Working on music for this….

When it all comes down
Who will flesh it out
From this noisy town
In this palace of din
Not a soul around
Has it figured out
That it all begins
Here, where the world fell in

And what goes around
Will come around again
If it never ends
It comes around again
From the north and south
Of the over and out
On the up and down
To where the world fell in

They cheered her on in Boy’s Town
They danced and waved heir arms
She knows just how to run the race
She knows just what we are

She said I’m sure there must be more
To heaven than the stars
She held my hand and fell asleep
She knows just what we are

And she knows just how to run the race
Who cares who has run away
And she knows just how to run the race
Who cares who has run away

And everything I kiss
Doesn’t have to turn to shit
And everything I kiss
Doesn’t have to turn to shit

Chris titled a picture of some trees and sky "The World Fell In" and I thought it was just fantastic. I hope the song turns out to be worthy of the title. We'll see.

It is also great to be writing a more grown-up song about KJ. Been awhile since I've had enough perspective (or I pretend to have enough perspective) on our lives to try another song for my sweetie. Funny how it's hard for me to do that when it used to be so easy.

Ultimately I think it reflects something good. Kim and I are balls-deep in living life and I think that gives us less time for perspecive on each other. When it was just us, no kid - no mortgage - we both had all sorts of thoughts on what life, love and family mean. But it's like that old saying that Dev's lady or someone put forth on the bloggosphere "It's always easy raising someone else's kids."

Once you do it yourself, along with the other things that go with modern living...finding time for or inspiration for "perspective" ain't easy. I'm glad when I get some.

And Chris B's title was a big part of that.

Strut

Be of good cheer Chicago baseball fans. Both teams are in first place and I could not be happier. Top to bottom, the cubs have the better line up...the SOX are improving with lineup changes, most notably putting AL homerun leader CQ in the 3-spot.

Contreras seems to be ready to compete again and the fork ball looked good against the stupid Indians. SOX added runs in the 8th and we all know what runs scored after the 7th inning are...Those are winning runs folks.

It's early I know, but for now fans of the SOX and Cubs should enjoy the great baseball being played in greater Chicagoland.

If both teams are still in first place in June there is only one thing for SOX and Cubs fans to do...and they should do it together...

Strut.

Played a quick nine after work and before guitar lessons tonight. The first two holes were strong. Par and BIRDIE!!!! (my first of the year).

I think everybody knows what ol edP did after knocking a drive stiff and up on the tee followed by a necessarily conservative 2-put (cuz I ain't eagling anything any time soon)....

If you guessed STRUT you are right.

The Devil's Handicap

Golfed South Pointe Greene on Sat and let's just say my game was intermittent at best. Started strong with a bogey but on the 2nd hole, the wind took my ball into a slough or a horsepond, or any 18th Century-type term for a watery hole will do...

Then bogey again and I was back in business until I stepped on a snake. That freaked me out and yes, I hit the snake with my 9-iron. Sorry animal lovers, I know the snake is one of God's creatures and people should not wantonly harm animals but in my defense I was not in control of my actions. The snake surprised me, my instincts took over and I bopped him one with the most convenient club.

I think the snake was ok. Let's just say he was ok, ok? My 9-iron? On the following hole the head came off and went flying so I had to use my crap-backup 9-iron or overswing with the PW for the rest of the day.

I know, I know...poor fucking me. Haven't I suffered enough for my crime of non Whacking Day snake whacking? Don't judge me until a probably harmless, but still haughty snake rubs up against your ankle as you look for one of your balls lost in the tall grass.

Tallgrass Captains? That's a little later in the story...

Saw a giant hawk gliding around as I prepared my approach on 8. It was like vultures circling my golf game. They do that with dead and mutilated things.

Last three holes for the day were all 6's.

Trip 6's to close out the day of golfing??? That's got to be some sort of sign.

As if my golf game wasn't demonic enough.

DC sent a text right as I started. Told him I should have plenty of time to finish nine and meet him for dinner and drinks around 5pm.

I had to eat at 5pm because I realized that my Saturday consumption of things up to that point was...

Banking, beer, cut grass, beer, CD artwork shit, beer, golf, whiskey.

Uh oh.

If I drank Fieldcrest Beer and was a lot better looking I'd be Don Draper.

Made it to Twins on time. DC laughed at the trip 6's and chastised me for whomping the snake. Maybe DC is the good angel and Old Dog is the bad one. Aww who am I kidding, they're both the bad one.

Less than five minutes into our visit to the friendliest neighborhood tavern and we were offered the opportunity to get in on a horse racing pool.

So let's review...now Sat went like - - banking, beer, cut grass, beer, CD artwork shit, beer, golf, whiskey, GAMBLING.

Uh oh. Had the feeling that very little now stood in the way of me & DC waking up in Vegas with really crappy Vegas wives...or both claiming Bill Garver as our Vegas wife. Now that's an affront on the institution of marriage.

A full-frontal affront on the institution of...oh skip it.

The race went off and our yelling was most comical:

DC Liar: "Come on Lasty! You're going the wrong way. Dammit!"
Me: "Come on Future Glue! Ya gotta at least catch Lasty. By definition you must catch Lasty!"

Needless to say our two bucks plus tip for our bartender/bookie (I call her Booktender) ended up in someone else's pocket.

Namely hers. Yup, she had Big Brown and won the damn thing. We weren't drunk enough to justify being hustled by a DeKalb bartender but that's what happened so what're ya gonna do. My response to Big Brown winning?

Aye.

I had Hey Byrne and let's just say after a brief stint running third, the horse-faced former mayor of Chicago Jayne Byrne ran better.

Hell, Eddie Vrrrrrrrrrdolyak ran better.

When I realized that we were wallowing in our own crapulance well before dark, I decided to call PDawg, crash his house and do some more wholesome family drinking, consisting of building a fire and enjoying all that the Pointe has to offer.

Speaking of the Pointe, one of its newest denizens (Kim's dear friend John) just got a kick ass job during a time when many are happy just to keep a crap ass job. Well done John.

Brought a bottle of Templeton to PDawg 's. He rescued us by letting us hang out by the retained water and much mayhem was avoided. PDawg is the hero of this story.

We called Bill Garver to see if he'd be interested in all the rye whiskey-induced manly feelgoodery but he declined. It's possible he had a premonition that warned him the night was young enough, and still weird enough for him to end up Vegas-married to me, DC, PDawg or all three of us...

...thereby assailing the institution of polygamy.

Yes, we even give polygamy a bad name.

SUNDAY

Shook off the previous day's whiskey and beer, took the family (or they took me) to 8am Holy Mass...

Alex & I cruised out to Lockport and visited Grandma Marge.

We said goodbye to our friend Ace late Sunday afternoon. Alex found a nice spot by some tulips and we shared the sad duty of digging a final resting place for a good mouse. The boy and I sat quietly on the deck for a while and agreed that in spite of it all we had a beautiful and blessed weekend.

It's late. I am enjoying Gone the Bells from the Cotton Jones Basket Ride and thanking God for every sweet moment given to me.

Fertile the Turtle

…may actually finish a couple of somethings.

Worked on a new song with bigDrag last night and happy about that.

Demoed some new OKB material and I need to send some of to ole kobe

Surprises coming on the In the Can single cover art.

Making steady progress on putting 1st OKB record together.

The biggest thing has been the Georgie S. story which will not be finished for a year but I am at that point where I know (if I’m not hit by a bus or something stupid like that)…I know I am going to finish it. Judging by my notes (I’ve worked my way through 300 or so and produced 123 readable pages) the finished work can be kept to under 300 pages. I have about 700 or so pages or notes/drafts/bullshit attempts at things that I am steadily killing off…

Sam Peckinpah kills off characters, I kill off pages of crap.

Nobody wants to read more than 300 pages from me.

I’ll be happy if anybody decides to read it when it’s done.

I’m working hard at doing (what our friend the PDawg once described as “killing off your darlings”) rejecting or trimming parts that do not help the story…parts that are my vanity or the side of my writing that I don’t understand…that is not me…that is not connected with anything real or beautiful or a worthwhile ugly….

I get home from work play with my kid, chill with my wife, get some exercise, eat, give guitar lessons, go to band practice when I can then write til 1am or so. It is possible that I am so happy/deluded to be “working” on something I care about that the final product might bite it bigtime.

But I can’t worry about that now, I know this place, this part of the creative process whatever you want to call it…you have done enough and know enough about where the thing is headed that it will be finished.

By the way, being at this point does not guarantee success, personal, creative, financial – whatever…

All it means is you know where you are and momentum is in your favor. It leads to the finish…

I’m not sure the finish of this thing is where I will want to be once I get there…

But that’s where I’m a-headin’

What the World Needs Now

Sinatra's been dead for ten years eh...

I bet that ol' blue-eyed bastard still has one more comeback in him.

My New Baseball Predictions

I did not do my usual pre-season baseball predictions because I was tired of being so wrong year after year after year. Don't worry, I will continue to be wrong about politics, economics, physics, art, music, societal observations...but important shit like baseball...well Hell, I wanna get that stuff right.

The great Yogi Berra once said, "It's hard to predict things, especially the future."

And the equally great Yoda said, "Always in motion the future is."

...or some inverted shit like that. That little green bastard fucked up more sentences than villains (at least in the first trilogy).

But I think we've had enough present this baseball season for me to begin saying a few provisional things about the ball clubs in our part of the world.

FIRST (and I could've probably said this at the beginning of the season) best lineup top to bottom, of the Chicago teams belongs to the North side club. A-Ram may struggle with his timing a bit, but there's enough variety in types of hitters some plucky dinkers and dunkers/speed guys, mixed with moderate to heavy duty power and this year more cub hitters seem determined to take pitches, take their walks and the team OPB has benefited. More than that it has led them to play winning baseball for longer stretches of the season than the team I follow.

My beloved SOX started out that way, guys followed the example of a Swisher and took some walks...but now, not even Swish is seeing the ball all that well. This goes back to the Toronto trip. I will not judge the SOX too harshly on the basis of what happens from here on out on the West coast trip (cuz they always suck out there). I can't believe they took 2 of 3 from Seattle. Anybody else think the M's are overrated this year?

After the cubs took three from the D-bags (and yes I was rooting for your cubbies because A. Brandon Webb is the only pitcher I follow on Arizona and he pitched the day before the series started and B. I hate expansion teams and would rather seen the old school cubs beat those schlubs anyday)...

Oh, I had something cute and clever to say. What was it? Yeah - since the cubs swept the Diamonddogs can anybody guess who now holds the best record in baseball?

If you guessed the motherfucking Florida Fish then go ahead on and hang a star on your Mangini.

Two years ago Josh and I got so drunk during the course of a heated baseball argument that we kept confusing former Marlin's coach (and former Yankee 'n cub backstop) Joe Girardi with current Jets coach Eric Mangini. We were crossing over and spraying to all fields, all sports and Girardi and Mangini were caught in the crossfire.

Ewww

I will say more detailed things about the Chicago ball clubs a little further down the line. I have more thoughts, believe me but now I must go and see how things are unfolding in Wee Britain.

Oh Santi Day

Congrats to our friend Santi. He tied the knot this weekend and my family wishes him and his bride all the love in the world. Me & my crew could not be there but the happy couple were in our thoughts and prayers.

By the way, if anybody sees one Mr. DC Liar passed out at the O'Hare Oasis perhaps they'll find the decency to buy him a ticket and put him on a plane to Hawaii.

Hawaii's nice this time of year. It's nice all year round.

Thank goodness for squad cars with cow-catchers.

In celebration of marriage and family enjoy one of the most insane clips from (in my humble opinion) the funniest family ever on t-fucking-v.

So What Does Tuesday Mean

???

WARNING! THIS POST CONTAINS A PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION SPOILER, SUGGESTED JOE FRANKLIN RAPE, KARAOKE, A PUPPET USES THE TERM "FREAK BITCH", EXTREME NAUGHTINESS AND EVEN SOME FRENCH!!!

...er, freedom.

Sen. Kinton is going to prolong the agony because nobody knows what is next. She went all in with this thing and if she understands politics…

…more importantly, if Senator O. understands politics, ain’t nobody gonna roll out the Vice President slot on the ticket for her bitch ass! Great now I am channeling Franklin.

Joe Franklin raped me.

Back to Mrs. Klinton, she may think that the Veep offer is owed to her, but I say let her think that in the Senate.

My favorite moment Tuesday night - when Senator O won so convincingly in N.C. and he was offering a serious challenge in Indiana (despite his premature rhetorical concession)…

What was I saying? Oh yeah, my favorite moment from Tuesday I was talking about that. KO and Russert were discussing the big success for the Illinois Senator and KO reminded TR and the tv audience at home that while Senator O celebrates after some rough sailing the past few weeks, Gavin Floyd was 7 innings into a no-hitter on the South Side of Chicago. See, even tho there are many things I disagree with when it comes to KO and a show like Countdown, the former Sports Center anchor (my favorite Sports Center anchor) understands the connection between baseball, politics and life in America.

I think KO is a bastard when he attacks Cindy McCain for no good reason (and I may dial out of Countdown for awhile if those attacks continue)….

He can be a bastard but he also understands American life and baseball and politics and from time to time he finds the poetry there that makes this country so beautiful. KO & I do not agree on much but I think we both love America for the same reasons.

Skin-a-max.

KO didn’t really offer anything insightful about baseball or the victory in that moment…just the fact that while hosting a live national news show in a crucial point in the race for the presidency, he took the time to see how the SOX were doing.

Great job today Juan Uribe, especially taking out Brendon (sp? Jeanz, Joe Mauer? Anybody?) Harris. His spikes were not up and it was a clean and inspirational baseball play…and why I love the game.

I’ll think about Tuesday some more and say my bit of nothing later.

Shit! I bet ChrisB a dinner that Paulie would steal one base this year. I should’ve said Thome would steal successfully. That was one crazy play.

In spite of the brutal road trip, especially the disaster north of the border I am still having fun watching this plucky team. #56 tried his best Pete Townsend impersonation on a space heater. Come on MB, their bats are cold enough already!

Two thoughts on Ced Ben:

Comme je descendais des Fleuves impassibles,
Je ne me sentis plus guidé par les haleurs :
Des Peaux-Rouges criards les avaient pris pour cibles
Les ayant cloués nus aux poteaux de couleurs.

J'étais insoucieux de tous les équipages,
Porteur de blés flamands ou de cotons anglais.
Quand avec mes haleurs ont fini ces tapages
Les Fleuves m'ont laissé descendre où je voulais.

Dans les clapotements furieux des marées
Moi l'autre hiver plus sourd que les cerveaux d'enfants,
Je courus ! Et les Péninsules démarrées
N'ont pas subi tohu-bohus plus triomphants.

La tempête a béni mes éveils maritimes.
Plus léger qu'un bouchon j'ai dansé sur les flots
Qu'on appelle rouleurs éternels de victimes,
Dix nuits, sans regretter l'oeil niais des falots !

Plus douce qu'aux enfants la chair des pommes sures,
L'eau verte pénétra ma coque de sapin
Et des taches de vins bleus et des vomissures
Me lava, dispersant gouvernail et grappin

Et dès lors, je me suis baigné dans le PoèmeDe la Mer, infusé d'astres, et lactescent,
Dévorant les azurs verts ; où, flottaison blême
Et ravie, un noyé pensif parfois descend ;
Où, teignant tout à coup les bleuités, délires
Et rythmes lents sous les rutilements du jour,
Plus fortes que l'alcool, plus vastes que nos lyres,
Fermentent les rousseurs amères de l'amour !

Je sais les cieux crevant en éclairs, et les trombes
Et les ressacs et les courants :
Je sais le soir, L'aube exaltée ainsi qu'un peuple de colombes,
Et j'ai vu quelque fois ce que l'homme a cru voir !

J'ai vu le soleil bas, taché d'horreurs mystiques,
Illuminant de longs figements violets,
Pareils à des acteurs de drames très-antiques
Les flots roulant au loin leurs frissons de volets !

J'ai rêvé la nuit verte aux neiges éblouies,
Baiser montant aux yeux des mers avec lenteurs,
La circulation des sèves inouïes,
Et l'éveil jaune et bleu des phosphores chanteurs !

J'ai suivi, des mois pleins, pareille aux vacheries
Hystériques, la houle à l'assaut des récifs,
Sans songer que les pieds lumineux des MariesPussent forcer le mufle aux Océans poussifs !
J'ai heurté, savez-vous, d'incroyables FloridesMêlant aux fleurs des yeux de panthères à peaux D'hommes !

Des arcs-en-ciel tendus comme des brides
Sous l'horizon des mers, à de glauques troupeaux !
J'ai vu fermenter les marais énormes, nasses
Où pourrit dans les joncs tout un Léviathan !

Des écroulement d'eau au milieu des bonaces,
Et les lointains vers les gouffres cataractant !
Glaciers, soleils d'argent, flots nacreux, cieux de braises !
Échouages hideux au fond des golfes bruns Où les serpents géants dévorés de punaises Choient, des arbres tordus, avec de noirs parfums !

Si je désire une eau d'Europe, c'est la flacheNoire et froide où vers le crépuscule embaumé
Un enfant accroupi plein de tristesses, lâche
Un bateau frêle comme un papillon de mai.

Je ne puis plus, baigné de vos langueurs, ô lames,
Enlever leur sillage aux porteurs de cotons,
Ni traverser l'orgueil des drapeaux et des flammes,
Ni nager sous les yeux horribles des pontons.

(I think I f'd up pasting some of these verses but remember I barely passed my high proficency French...er I mean, FREEDOM translation exam)

My 2nd point is Benson ought to sue the fuck out of those Texas cops. There is no way they needed to pepper spray him, for as my dear friend ChrisB said: “They could just touch him and he’d fall down. Haven’t they read the scouting report? Cedric Benson lacks escape-ability.”

If you made it to the end, pat yourself on the back, pour a glass of Scotch, chill out with some high quality internet entertainment and thank whatever god, gods, or nothing you believe in that there was no actual Joe Franklin rape in this post.

That's tomorrow.

Faith and the Voting Stylus

Did I spell "stylus" right? Johnny? Jeanz? anybody???

The following post really begins in the comments section from Saturday’s post. Once again it is me blah blah blahing against g-Bushy and why, whatever substance may be lacking in Obama, he fits my image of presidential… I dunno, he’s slicker than the other two, I want to believe that his presidency (more than the other two) will move to end this mistake in I-rock, and if it has to be a Democrat I’d rather it be BO than the Baby Boomer warrior with all the divisive aids/experts/public policy douchebags she will bring with her.

In the comments field a dear friend and relative of mine suggested that as a Catholic he could not vote for Senator Obama because he (Obama, not my dear friend) has a 100% approval from the NARAL. This dear friend also suggested that “social issues are still important to a few people.”

That is a fine statement and I think serious Catholics can put forward such propositions, or it is certainly not for me to say that to do so constitutes error, grave or otherwise.

But I would say that one’s Catholicism and voting behavior seems to me to be a bit more nuanced and it might go too far to say that matters of one’s faith and politics can be measured by ratings scales put forward by PACs for or against abortion rights, or for or against anything for that matter.

The realm of PACs and lobbyist organizations both “religious” and secular offer direction and vigor for those who seek to be inspired or angered by them. Yet, I think as a Catholic voter, I can stop and wonder about the extent to which my decision as a man of faith and as an American voter can or ought to be shaped by such groups outside my faith.

Hell, I seriously question the legislative agendas of actual Catholic groups on “social issues.”

There are a number of Catholic PACs or organizations resembling PACs concerned with Social Justice, I don’t think this was what was meant by “social issues” in the original comments.

Consider Network's (basically Catholic lobbyists) top issues on their agenda:

Issues on NETWORK's agenda include:

• Just and fair treatment for immigrants

• Affordable housing

• Healthcare for all

• Retirement security

• Food security

• Wage equity

• Peace in Iraq through economic development

• Fair and just global trade and responsible investment

• Fair and just taxation

• Investment in human needs domestically and globally

Are they hippies disguising themselves as Catholics? There's stuff on this list that both ole kobe and I would consider to be good things but wouldn't be comfortable saying they are the primary concerns of our faith.

How's about the Diocese of Cleveland Social Action Office. ..

Their mission statement:

"The Social Action Office of the Diocese of Cleveland seeks to shape a more caring society and a more peaceful world through justice education, advocacy, community development and organizing. Our work is based on the call of the Gospel to work for the elimination of poverty, to speak out against injustice, and to promote the common good."

Again, all fine goals, not the primary goal of the Catholic faith, to preach the Good News and help us understand the reality of Christ's revelation in this world and beyond. The mission statement above seems to be rather this worldly.

The Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minnesota's Office for Social Justice offers a questionnaire for candidates (this goes back to 2006)

Here are their leading issues:

1. Economic Development

2. Education

3. Health

4. Immigration

5. Life Issues

Ok, technically these are arranged alphabetically in the PDF so I’m not trying to say that “Life Issues” barely crack the Top 5, but they cared enough about the other 4 to arrange all the leading issues alphabetically.

Sorry.

This post is not designed to win some argument and say that Catholics ought not refer to political candidate ratings guides…

My only thought was to suggest that the American political landscape is complex. The Catholic response/reaction/muddling through – whatever you want to call it - to democracy in America is equally complex.

As a Catholic, I’d be reticent to say that my faith offers much of a guide in this or any election on hot-button issues, social issues, whatever we call such things from time to time. I am glad g-Bushy picked the Supreme Court jerkasses…er justices that he did…not because I am a Catholic, but because I am a reader and lover of the US Constitution. I believe Chief Justice Roberts to love and hold in the highest regard, those things as well.

But this has little to do with my faith, and my life as a Catholic. The beginning and ending of my being as a Catholic and life on this earth is to see Christ in others and exhibit all that which is Christlike...or at least all that I can muster.

How am I doing so far?

That bad huh...

I don't know how much of this can be done either in the voting booth by choosing candidates who claim to hold values that Christians ought to hold or in following the guidelines of religious or political groups who seem to be very much rooted in the affairs of this world.

Finally, this should in no way be seen as some sort of rebuke of my dear friend and relative's thoughtful statement regarding his faith and his voting preference.

This post has more to do with me, my faith, my confusion as a man of faith and as a voter, and least but definitely not last (?) my political opinions and or behavior.

That's it for now. I promise that tomorrow I'll try to throw in some observations on Bill Garver's saucy ass. You know he's just begging for it.

My Verona

Nice dinner with friends at the Villa Verona (the Sycamore one, not the fancy one)

Lots of Obama talk but that's ok. Everybody was probably shocked by my cynicism and defense of his candidacy when I said, "Of course image is important. What the hell else are people going to vote for? Substance? Please, we're Americans we don't have time to understand the differences between candidates on that score."

But that response is part cynical and part absofuckinglutely real. Let's look back at the 2000 election. Let's think about a less polarizing, but still important, difference between Bush and Gore. Which one of them had a better plan for working with the Asian Tigers, ASEAN promoting, when necessary, and capitalizing on economic advantages in the Southeast Asian markets? And which could provide a better buffer for those markets especially against China or make some of those countries feel they could operate economically and otherwise without the sometimes bruising Chinese diplomacy style mucking up the works. I could not begin to answer that question then.

I couldn't sniff out the major policy difference between the Bush camp and the Gore folks in the run up to the 2000 election, how could I say something meaningful about other complex and nuanced policy differences? Come on!

I voted against Bush then almost exclusively on the basis of the Texas version of No Child Left Behind. I believed, and I turned out to be fucking right, that this horse-faced-shit expanded government in ways and to places that it had no business going...

And Bush turned out to be one of the biggest, big government presidents in my lifetime. I saw the seeds of that bullshit state interference with Texas public schools (Kim happened to have a dear friend on the ground there) and folks who knew me back during the election of 2000 (before all the recount crap) will remember that this is what I said to everyone. I argued with friends and others who were "anti-big government" and said this fuck from Texas already has plans for a full scale invasion of American public schools and he will use the bullshit argument that you and others like you always fall for 'Our schools are inefficient and should be run like a business'

And the anti-big government people voted for Bush for a variety of reasons. Maybe fear led them to say 'Let's make government big enough to protect us' or maybe 'No Big Government' was always code for 'I don't want my tax dollars going to welfare' or maybe I am too stupid to understand why all the folks voted for Bush...

Other than, he cut an image that they found presidential, or they felt comfortable with the image he put forth.

And I'd be full of bullshit if I didn't say that is part of what made my decision to vote for Obama so easy. Truth be told, I have no other criteria on which to make a decision.

One last thing about bullshit and me...

I have become the Charles Emerson Winchester III snob at work. One of my coworkers who I love and respect needs "noise" (her words) while she works, and the nature of her job is such that she can't use an MP3 player. She was at the cub game on Thursday and because she was gone there was no radio. Another worker was complaining that she missed the We Play Anything Radio and this started a discussion around the room that I tried , not so desperately, to stay away from...

When I was asked about the We Play Anything station that is normally played in our room I said, "It's ok if you don't like music."

I am the least popular person in my room and only surprised that it took this long to come to pass.