A long time ago, in what must seem like a galaxy far, far away, a man named Marx, sitting in a London library, wrote an essay about “alienation of labor”. Trotsky and Lenin and Mao got it all wrong in so many ways, but good old Karl had a good idea about alienation of labor that still applies to modern American state capitalism. Make no mistake about it, America is not a strictly capitalist country. In fact, our corporate coddling at the expense of the American worker looks a lot more like fascism than Adam Smith’s laizze faire dream of God’s hand moving across the marketplace. Anyway, Marx said that there was a time when we made things for their use. If you made a shoe, it was because you liked making shoes and/or needed shoes for your family. Once the fact of industrial capitalism became the economic model, no one made a shoe any more. A worker might make a part of a shoe, or even put together parts of shoes made by other workers. No one made shoes for the joy of making shoes any more. Workers made shoes for the weekly paycheck after industrial capitalism dominated the marketplace. Thus, we were “alienated” from our labor. Americans no longer are dominated by industrial capitalism because we are no longer an industrial nation as we were in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries. Nevertheless, the economic system of a service economy with state sponsored assistance to capital interests still has us working for the paycheck. A very great many of us provide some kind of service in the way of selling cars or teaching school or even practicing law not because we love that kind of work, but because we’re led to believe that we must have credit cards and a house in Edmond and an SUV and deoderant and Polo shirts and whatever else it is that advertising has created as a demand in our lives. We trudge to our insurance office or bank or whatever because we don’t like the work but we NEED the paycheck. We’re alienated from our labor. We get on that credit treadmill when we’re 19 or 20 years old and we stay there for another half century until we die of a stress related heart attack or stroke out. IT DOES NOT HAVE TO BE THAT WAY!!! It is possible for you and me to do that which we love for the love of the work and let the money be damned. It’s not easy, though. You have to either throw out your television or be strong enough to avoid being manipulated by the constant messages of sex and death that come out of the commercials and the programs and the movies and whatnot. You have to be able to set your own priorities and discriminate between wants and needs — a very adult thing to do in a very juvenile culture. You have to be strong enough to laugh at your peer group when it buys its SUVs. You have to be strong enough to withstand the stares and condemnation of people you’d like to have as friends. You have to value a very different path. It must be important to you to read philosophy and spend quiet time thinking about what you believe is important. OUCH! Who does that??!!?? You must find your pleasures on your own and not be handed them by others. You must actually be an individual rather than one who merely mouths the comforts of atomization as you’ve been taught by the Henry Adams machine that put you in rows and columns for 12 years of school, Pavlovian responding to bells once an hour. You DO realize that all that schooling you suffered was subliminal training for you to be docile when you clocked in at your local factory, don’t you? The American Dream, so-called, is a nightmare of soul deadening enslavement to an oligarchial few who are now in control of the levers of our society, our culture, our economy, our very minds and thoughts. We use their words to express what can’t be expressed: our ennui, our angst, our frustration, our sublimation of ourselves to the outsized female breast selling us another useless and senseless piece of crap.
Nevermind, my children, nevermind. Go back to your blow things up gratuitous nudity slasher movies and lust after sleeker and faster penis substitutes. Class dismissed.
Monday Morning? Again?
Ever get the sense that the American dream just ain’t all that dreamy?
You go to school and get good grades so you can get into a good college. You work a little harder to get pretty good grades so you can get a good job. You get a job and it’s something you’re greatful for, but you wouldn’t call it great. You marry someone. They’re better than you deserve, but marriage isn’t all that perfect, either. You get your three bedroom house and your station wagon and sedan and have your 2.2 children, but that’s no bowl of cherries by any means. You do not come home to fresh baked cookies and June Cleaver in her pearls because your spouse also works to pay the utility bills and mortgage. There you are. The American dream. And you look through your white picket fence at 25 more years of putting on a tie for 50 weeks a year and watching a lot of TV nights while the kids romp around your feet and get older and take the car out for their shot at the same game you’ve played. Then, you get to take care of your parents and become the in between generation. You go to church, hoping for some pie in the sky by and by. Your wife goes to the mall to keep the kids in athletic shoes and jeans. Once a year, you take a vacation to visit her parents in BumFuck Egypt. And, you think that someone, somewhere is having fun and “making it”, but it’s not anyone you know. Now, you’re the in between generation at work, too. Old farts frustrating you at the top of the pyramid and young bucks nipping at your heels below. No more grand schemes, just trying to make it through the day. A few things start to slip: it’s the shoulder you hurt at age 17 that now aches after every round of golf. You get contacts or glasses and bifocals slip their way into your life. Your hair thins. Your teeth are capped and crowned and bridged. Your belly gets more and more uncomfortable in more and more of your pants. Screw it, it’s not like Paris Hilton is ever going to ask you to party with her, anyway. You find Jesus, have an affair, go to rehab or you don’t. You vote, but it doesn’t seem to matter. You pay your taxes and your credit card bills and just when it seems like the light can be seen at the end of the tunnel, it’s time to pay for college for the kids and the car breaks down and the 3 bedroom house really needs a new roof and a general overhaul of the kitchen and baths and all at once, you’re behind again.
The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.
Don’t let my use of gendered words fool you: it’s equally crappy to be a woman.
You want to scream, but you’re inarticulate and who would you scream at?
Dad dies. Mom dies. The kids have kids and are too busy for your concerns.
Your ticker, your colon and your knees are gone.
Wha’d ya say?
Can you bring that light over here?
Comfortably numb, you go quietly into that last good night.
Monday morning? Again?
Still Suffering …
I still have the wrist thing, so it’s still difficult and painful to type for any longer than a minute or two, so this entry will also be truncated.
OU/TX and OSU/MO
Wasn’t a good football day for Oklahoma yesterday, was it? A few friends gathered at my house for the OU/TX blowout. None of us are fanatics and there wasn’t any of the usual rooting for the home team from the couch. We had great munchies, helped greatly by The Gary, who brought very popular brownies. SuzArt provided the estrogen and the comic relief in the personna of Bucky. We missed Mrs. Oz, who’s in some far north city filled with German beer for some kind of science teacher conference. George O anchored the far end of the couch, as usual.
Wedding Day
After the game, I went to Paseo for Sandy’s wedding. The ceremony was very cool, sweet and just the right amount of funny befitting the bride. Robin Meyers of Mayflower Congregation presided and he’s always right on target. Tom Lee’s studio never looked better. The reception at Isis afterwards was lovely and the food delicious. The rockabilly crowd was genial and fun. Mandy caught the bride’s bouquet, to the consternation of Ed. Craig’s fireworks livened up the evening, but started a gang war in the hood (it’s not a party until the police come). A bosomy Emily Medina was the Mistress (neither maid nor maiden) of Honor and acquitted herself well indeed while her father took pictures galore and her mother regaled us with stories of Germany. Michael Hoffner is so damn cool, I’ve decided that he’s my hero. Kelly O, on her way to a dinner party in a black spangled dress, was piquant sauce at my table. Marcy Roberts and her sister made me laugh, as Marcy is always able to do. The staff — Georgia, Sherry, Ian (the bride’s son) — was the younger contingent and provided spunk to offset the older generation relations of the bride and groom. Best wishes to the bride and congratulations to the groom. Sandy, I love you to death and I really hope you live the happily ever after of hollywood movies.
Stayin’ Alive
Sharon Astrin has not yet murdered me. Cue the BeeGees.
Old Age Creeps Up?
Saturday, I was too tired after dinner to hit VZDs for Brave Combo, but the reports were that they were the usual big fun. Last night, I was in bed before 10 p.m.!!! Don’t know when the last time was that I was so early to bed on a Friday and Saturday night consecutive. I’ve just been bushed. Or, is it “Bushed”? Anyway, don’t know what the deal is unless it’s the ibuprophen I’ve been taking for this damn wrist. Friday night’s early to bed caused a contretemps with the lovely Juliet, who was expecting me to take her out and dance her tootsies off. Forgive me, honey. PLEASE!
Th-Th-That’s All Folks!
Apologia
A couple of weeks ago, I hurt my wrist. I didn’t think much about it, even though I have little right hand strength and it hurts from time to time, because I thought it would pretty much heal up by itself. Finally, Friday I gave up and went to Walgreen’s and bought a wrist brace. Can’t type with it and can’t go long without it. Blogging suffers. Most of you Sooner Nation folks are out of town anyway, so who gives a darn.
Sharon Astrin Alert!!!
Talked to Sharon this week and she told me that if I wrote about her in this blog she would come after me with a knife. If I’m found dead with a knife in my back, she’s the main suspect.
So, here’s the Sharon stuff for my blog:
First, she’s brilliant. Second, she’s witty and very funny; a pun for all occasions. Third, she’s sexy as all get out and a little more to boot. Not least, she’s dead bang good looking with a keen eye for her wardrobe to enhance what’s already terrific.
Sharon and I dated for a time in 2004. Since then, she’s been with one partner all my friends describe as being just the best guy ever and a very good sculptor. Sharon and I can’t get along and I take the blame. I don’t exactly know the problem, but my buttons get pushed hard by her in some way and I just go over the damn top. How I wish that were not so. I would so much like to be her friend in the way of going to have a meal together and exchange small gifts and really be close. I just don’t seem to be able to do that. I have to limit my contact with her and I’m not happy in the least about that, but that’s just the way it is. Sharon thinks we were closely connected in a past life. I think past lives is poppycock, but she’s right in that I think that there’s something that connects us that isn’t quite within the realm of western rationalism. Even when I’ve hated her guts fiercely, I’ve always known that my life will never be complete without her in it in some fashion.
One last thing: Sharon has three of the most outstanding young women as daughters. I am completely besotted by each one of them. Her oldest, A, is at OSU and is a wonderful artist, designer and hilarous companion. Her middle child, CoCo, is tall and brunette and the absolute epitome of what any parent would want in a child — working, going to school, FUNNY beyond belief and as iconoclastic as is allowed by law. Her youngest, Budja (don’t ask), is all everything in her senior year in high school, the most gorgeous young woman you would ever want to meet, and the very model of a baby sister. When a single mom can raise three daughters to be such great grownups, it’s a testament to the mother that she didn’t kill them or herself to get there. Kudos to one of my favorite women in the world.
Sharpen up that Hinkle carving knife, Sharon. Bring it. It’ll be good to see you, even if you have murder in your eyes. It won’t be the first time you’ve wanted to kill me, although you must have mellowed. Before this, you would have tortured me at length before letting me die.
OU/TX
A fine, fall day for football.
Dallas is a great town to visit.
OU has little chance of a sixth consecutive win. The Sooners’ only real hope is to ring Vince Young’s bell early and often and hope for some turnover luck.
I’ll watch on TV with a few other folks who are, like me, only vaguely interested. There won’t be much yelling a screaming and no “Shut Up! I’m trying to watch the game!” admonitions. We’ll have a little knosh and some conversation and all will be well with the world, regardless of the outcome of the game.
Tonight, I’ll go to a wedding and celebration. Sandy, best wishes even though you are breaking the hearts of every sentient bachelor in Oklahoma City and beyond.
Th-Th-Th-That’s All Folks! The wrist hurts and I’m OUT
Please Don't Take My Sunshine Away
I hope all you pansies who complained about the weather are satisfied. The top is up on the Miata and that’s a shame. Shame on you pansies. Soon, you’ll complain about your ONG bills and the costs of heating your McMansions in Edmond, just like you complain about the $3/gal gas prices. Do you really think that high gasoline prices won’t lead to higher home heating bills? Hope the dry cleaning bill for your sweaters and woolens puts you in the poorhouse. Hope your kids have runny noses and ear blockages. Hope you slip on the ice and break your hip. Bastards. Sons of bitches. Whooors. Asswipes. Soon, you’ll be thinking 60 degrees is balmy and looking forward to the least bit of sunshine, all of which you had in abundance just 36 hours ago. This is NOT a happy blogger. This is one pissed off ragtop owner.
Wednesday Night Dinner and Movie
The crowd that meets on the Paseo Wednesdays was cramped inside and sparse due to the weather, although a solid 10 of us went to dinner together.
On the basis of a recommendation by Brian the chef we went to a Mexican restaurant on Britton Road, but the comments I heard were not generally favorable. In fact, the sentiment was that Brian would never again be trusted to pick the spot we eat.
On the other hand, I showed “Sin City” at my house afterwards and the general feeling was that it was well worth the $10 I spent on the “previously viewed” DVD at my local Hollywood Video store.
Having seen and enjoyed the movie more than once before last night, the big deal for me was getting to snuggle with Button, a late arrival who slipped in and shared my chair next to the door. She’s such a terrific young woman and I am SO shut out that any little thing is a big deal for me. I’d almost rather be told anything other than “Let’s just be friends”, but I don’t always get to choose what I’m told by women I admire.
Corrupt Corporate Cronyism
I’ve been waxing eloquent about Majority Leader Tom Delay, mentioned the SEC problems of Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist, the Valerie Plame problems of Karl Rove and Scooter Libby, the White House spy revelations, the illegal propaganda of the Bush Dept. of Education, and the curious choice of Harriet Miers for the U.S. Supreme Court, but all of that may soon fade into obscurity compared to another Washington scandal: Jack Abramoff, lobbyist extraordinaire. Yeah, I know you’ve never heard of him. Here’s the bare bones: Tom Delay and other GOP leaders have set up a lobbyist heaven and corporate interests often use their access to GOP lawmakers to simply write the bills that Bush will sign into law. Jack Abramoff was a kingpin in their system, raising money and spending it in all the right places for GOP purposes and getting federal law written exactly in the way his corporate clients wanted them written. As these things always go, Jack got a little lax about the rules in his hubris. He was untouchable, protected by powerful Congressional friends and White House contacts. Except now that federal investigators have indicted one of his principal minions, who is “cooperating” in the investigation (that means he’s ratting out everyone he can think of). When the indictments start coming down, watch out. Some of what has been going on in the past six years looks and smells like outright bribery, but probably does just skirt that law, although perhaps not all the election finance laws. GOP lawmakers are likely to go down like bowling pins, one knocking the other down in the melee. Assuming that action comes within the next year, 2006 might be a year of “sea change” in Congress because the ideological and social conservatives are also splitting into factions that cannot withstand a “reform” mood of disgust in the populace when faced with so many indictments and charges. Hard to blame Dems for this since they are so out of power that they can’t influence political witchhunts like the GOP could under Clinton. When you add in $3/gal gasoline, high heating costs, the disappointing results we’re getting in Iraq, cronyism in FEMA that led to a Katrina disaster, and the list goes on… Except I forgot that the Democrats are even more stupid and disorganized than a high school sorority. Nevermind.
The Pink Lady
In the middle of the last century, an unknown war veteran named Richard M. Nixon ran for Congress against a New Deal Democrat named Helen Gahagan Douglas. Throughout the campaign, Nixon called this patriotic American “The Pink Lady”, implying that she wasn’t quite a communist, but darn close. He won the election with this unfair tactic and went on to become a right-hand man and protege of Sen. Joseph “Tailgunner Joe” McCarthy of “McCarthyism” fame, some of which you youngsters will find out more about if you see the new George Clooney movie about this demogogue’s demise.
Well, Oklahoma City has its own Pink Lady.
She’s my tobacconist and a heck of a woman. She’s young and beautiful (ordinarily) and has a razor sharp wit and vital intelligence. I simply adore her. Too bad she’s so young and I’m so old. (What, you need another woman in your life? What does it take? Shut up! No, you shut up! All the voices in my head need to shut up, I’m trying to write. I’m scared. You can’t tell your mother to shut up, you bad boy. Really. All of you need to shut up so I can write. I’m putting you in “time out” now. NO NO NO NO NO. I mean it, shut up and shut up right now! Sorry. OK.)
Anyway, she’s having an allergic reaction to something and it’s turning her pink. I saw her at the Tobacco Exchange and bought some import smokes from her and she’d written something on her hand to remind herself to do something to help with this medical condition and I suggested that perhaps a note on paper would have served her better. She assured me a paper note would do no good and that a message on her hand would be effective. I saw her this a.m. at the Red Cup and she’d forgotten to get her stuff and, she reported, she had become even more pink.
So, when you see the tobacconist with the pink skin around town, just call her The Pink Lady. She’ll know you read my blog.
White House Spy?
By BRIAN ROSS and RICHARD ESPOSITO
Oct. 5, 2005 — Both the FBI and CIA are calling it the first case of espionage in the White House in modern history.
Officials tell ABC News the alleged spy worked undetected at the White House for almost three years. Leandro Aragoncillo, 46, was a U.S. Marine most recently assigned to the staff of Vice President Dick Cheney.
Our “wartime” president has a really terrific national security record. The Valerie Plame affair in which his top aide, Karl Rove, and the vice president’s top aide, Scooter Libby, are believed to be the official source for “outing” a covert CIA agent is one part of the record. The terrible fact that Osama bin Laudin is still free and walking around and directing a terrorist network makes me bleed red, white and blue. Taking us into a war in which all the justifications have proven false is discouraging. The response to Katrina calls into question our preparedness for a terror attack after all these years of pouring money into the nation’s largest bureaucracy, the Homeland Security Fiasco. Does anyone know who sent the nation’s capital envelopes of anthrax??? Seems like that’s dropped off the radar for some reason. Both of the wildest regiemes on the face of the earth, North Korea and Iran, our sworn enemies, have developed or are developing nuclear weapons. Our military is stretched so thin… I’ll ask a question I’ve asked before: Have we ever had such incompetent governance?
A Testament to the Diversity of the President's Cronies
From Slate’s Mickey Kaus
The fatal, non-snobby objection to Miers: Randy Barnett points out that the “cronyism” worry isn’t just a worry about an unqualified nominee, or a theoretical worry about the “separation of powers.” There’s a concrete concern about her ability to rule against the interests of the man and family to whom she’s been so loyal (and to whom she will owe her spectacular elevation)**:
Cronyism is bad not only because it leads to less qualified judges, but also because we want a judiciary with independence from the executive branch. A longtime friend of the president who has served as his close personal and political adviser and confidante, no matter how fine a lawyer, can hardly be expected to be sufficiently independent–especially during the remaining term of her former boss.
Also, he might have added, in the possible future terms of other Bush dynasty members (i.e. Jeb). The Bushes do their business by calling on personal loyalties. It’s a legitimate question to ask whether they are (if only subconsciously!) trying to extend this modus operandi into the judicial branch. It all seems a bit Latin American, no? Harriet Miers could be the most qualified judge in the nation–and a breath of fresh air to boot–and cronyism would still be a potentially disqualifying factor. There are some moves Presidents who gain office on 5-4 Supreme Court votes can’t make. …
Update: President Bush, and some media reports, may have gone a long way toward dispelling worries about Souterism on the right. But not worries about cronyism! And they span the spectrum. … Indeed, Bush’s defense against the Souterism charge–“I know her well enough to be able to say that she’s not going to change”–only reinforces the cronyism charge. He’s putting his personal legal consigliere on the Supreme Court. If she’s going to show any independence, she’s going to have to change, no? … P.S.: As Maguire notes, Miers might still prove highly popular in opinion polls. She’s an appealing figure. I’m talking about what should disqualify her–not necessarily what will. …
**: And whom she apparently admires disproportionately. Here’s David Frum:
In the White House that hero worshipped the president, Miers was distinguished by the intensity of her zeal: She once told me that the president was the most brilliant man she had ever met.
From Andrew Sullivan’s blog
“Conservatives, I thought, were supposed to believe ideas have consequences, that American institutions – chief among them the Supreme Court and the Constitution – have specific and organic roles to play in the culture which depend on intellectual honesty, opposition to cant, and a dispassionate rejection of the politicization of the law. The reliable vote argument — absent other rationales — runs counter to all of these. This becomes obvious when you imagine a Democratic President appointing a confidante with few obvious credentials for the Supreme Court. A president Kerry could hardly convince any of us that his pick should be confirmed because she’s a reliable vote.” – Jonah Goldberg, NRO
Sullivan is gay, so he’s worried about gay rights …
Here’s an interesting story. Back in 1989, Harriet Miers gave answers to a questionnaire on gay rights when she was running for the Dallas city council. She didn’t favor repeal of anti-sodomy laws, but she did say yes to the question:
“Do you believe that gay men and lesbians should have the same civil rights as non-gay men and women?”
She was noncommittal on several other questions, saying, for example, that she would be willing to discuss the need for a law prohibiting discrimination in housing or public accommodations against people who had AIDS or were HIV-positive.
Asked whether qualified candidates should be denied city employment because they are gay or lesbian, she said, “I believe that employers should be able to pick the best qualified person for any position to be filled considering all relevant factors.”
I’m not sure what to make of this, except to say that this was 1989, and that her refusal to endorse discrimination against gays and lesbians on those grounds alone speaks well of her. (Hey, this was Texas in 1989.) Her view that people could be arrested for private consensual sex, however, was and is alarming. But a whole lot of people have changed their minds on that in the last decade or so. Maybe Miers is one of them. I think it’s a fair question to ask of her at the Senate hearings: “Do you believe that gay men and lesbians should have the same civil rights as non-gay men and women?” And: “What do you understand by the term ‘civil rights’?”
More from Andrew Sullivan
“Just talked to a very pro-Bush legal type who says he is ashamed and embarrassed this morning. Says Miers was with an undistinguished law firm; never practiced constitutional law; never argued any big cases; never was on law review; has never written on any of the important legal issues. Says she’s not even second rate, but is third rate. Dozens and dozens of women would have been better qualified. Says a crony at FEMA is one thing, but on the high court is something else entirely. Her long history of activity with ABA is not encouraging from a conservative perspective – few conservatives would spend their time that way. In short, he says the pick is ‘deplorable.'”
– Rich Lowry, NRO.
It seems to me at this stage that Miers might well be a quiet, decent judicial restraint conservative on the court. I’m still open to supporting her nomination. But a more fundamental issue is simply her intellectual and legal caliber. This is SCOTUS. After Roberts, we have gone from a clear A grade to a C +. It seems to me her nomination would be most successfully defeated merely by insisting that the court gets someone qualified in the most basic meaning of the term.
THE BEST SPIN YET: “It’s not as bad as Caligula putting his horse in the Senate.” – Richard Brookhiser, NRO.
One more thought. Bush is a deeply arrogant and insecure person (the qualities go together), a man who refuses to cower in the face of criticism. This can be a good thing, as in his tenacity in the war on terror. But it is also a hubristic flaw – evident as early as “Mission Accomplished” – which has only been reinforced by his re-election. The one thing that could motivate him to appoint a crony as obviously unqualified as Miers is precisely to stick a finger in the eye of those accusing him of cronyism. Tell him we need more troops in Iraq? It’s the one thing he won’t do. Tell him he’s a big spender? We get: “It’s going to cost whatever it costs.” Tell him he has botched the Iraq occupation? He’ll give the architects Medals of Freedom. There’s an adolescent streak of pure willfulness in the man. He cannot and will not self-correct. If pushed into a corner, he will simply repeat the error in order to prove himself immune to criticism. We had one chance to correct this – the only one he understands. And he got away with re-election after four years of spectacular, unconservative incompetence. I’m afraid I have limited sympathy for those complaining conservatives who were silent when it mattered, and are now living with the consequences.
From Another Blog
There were complaints of cronyism and questions about Ms. Miers experience by both sides. According to the L.A. Times, conservatives were particularly harsh in their comments. One example:
Manuel Miranda, a conservative lobbyist active in promoting Bush’s judicial nominees, argued that “the president has made possibly the most unqualified choice since Abe Fortas.”
From George Will
Senators beginning what ought to be a protracted and exacting scrutiny of Harriet Miers should be guided by three rules. First, it is not important that she be confirmed. Second, it might be very important that she not be. Third, the presumption — perhaps rebuttable but certainly in need of rebutting — should be that her nomination is not a defensible exercise of presidential discretion to which senatorial deference is due.
It is not important that she be confirmed because there is no evidence that she is among the leading lights of American jurisprudence, or that she possesses talents commensurate with the Supreme Court’s tasks. The president’s “argument” for her amounts to: Trust me. There is no reason to, for several reasons.
He has neither the inclination nor the ability to make sophisticated judgments about competing approaches to construing the Constitution. Few presidents acquire such abilities in the course of their prepresidential careers, and this president, particularly, is not disposed to such reflections.
Furthermore, there is no reason to believe that Miers’ nomination resulted from the president’s careful consultation with people capable of such judgments. If 100 such people had been asked to list 100 individuals who have given evidence of the reflectiveness and excellence requisite in a justice, Miers’ name probably would not have appeared in any of the 10,000 places on those lists.
It Was Tuesday Again …
I expected Tuesday to be boring and I was prepared for that, even looking forward to some “alone time” to do those personal hygiene, shine shoes, pick up the clothes on the bedroom floor type duties that we all have.
Again, I went and got myself a simple meal and bought some new DVDs: Sin City, Vanity Fair and The Machinist.
After eating a sandwhich and puttering, I went to the grocery for a week’s worth of stuff and rather overbought, if you know what I mean. I saw pretty things I wanted to eat right then and they are almost certain to go bad in the fridge before I get to them, but bachelors always hope they will fix themselves decent meals right up until they run out and grab fast food death in our deathmobiles.
Late, emailing my sister in S.C. and listening to the soft jazz of KGOU, getting ready to do the quiet things one does to prepare for bed, I got a call from the lovely Juliet asking me if I’d like to get a spot of tea. Veddy British, actually.
We talked until well after Starbucks closed, sharing heartfelt sentiment and crass business advice and little personal jokes (as in the way she can’t stop using the word “actually”).
Tuesday must not be all that boring because I’m just now coming to work at noon on Wednesday.
I’d best beware my heart with the lovely Juliet, I think.
Can Pres. Bush Be Serious?
President Bush today defended his choice of Harriet Miers as his nominee to the U.S. Supreme Court by telling conservatives that he “knows her heart.” Really? He knows the heart of a 60-year-old unmarried Dallas corporate lawyer? She’s been described as his “work wife”. Is he serious? I smell bullshit and, having abundant experience with bullshit, I’m quite sure I know that smell.
To liberal critics of his choice, President Bush had the unmitigated gall to call her the “most qualified” choice available in the entire country. I’m queasy and can taste the puke in the back of my mouth at hearing that. It’s so wrong on so many levels. Considering her record (her official bio is on this blog), I only personally know about 100 lawyers more qualified. In fact, I wonder if the ABA will rate her as qualified according to their standards. I would be shocked by her nomination to the TEXAS Supreme Court, were I Texan and that had been proposed, much less the nation’s highest court.
Karl Rove must be too busy with his own legal troubles in the Valerie Plame Affair to ride herd over Bush or the president has truly lost his intellectually undisciplined mind. Even as a joke, that isn’t funny.
Calendar Note
My regularly scheduled Thursday OCAM rooftop appearance will be cancelled this week in order to help my son Jack pick out clothes from the closet of the generous Doug Parr. Many of you know that Jack got out of the French Quarter after Katrina with only the clothes on his back. I’ve contributed about 1/3 of my own wardrobe, but I’m his father. Doug’s offer to share his terrific wardrobe with Jack (although Pat G. I think, has something to do with this) is a kindness that marks him once again as one of Oklahoma City’s most genuinely wonderful guys. RE: earlier about Bush; Doug would make a far better choice to the U.S. Sup. Ct., but since he has a brain, I suppose he’s disqualified as far as Bush is concerned.
Rant
The cold front is coming into town as I write. Most of the folks I know are dead ready for the end of the warm weather and are welcoming this fall cool down. Fine and well. I’m less happy by far. I’ve had to put up the top on the Miata. I know quite well that we will still have some fine days ahead, but I also know that this cold front is the grandfather of others to follow and that in the last week of February and the first two weeks of March these same friends are going to be begging for the weather we had yesterday, not realizing that they’ve wished it away. As Will Rogers once said: “Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.” Owning a ragtop means watching the weather like a farmer, always on the lookout for rain, wind and cold. Soon enough we’ll be bundling up and uncomfortable in our bulky sweaters and coats and gloves and hats, freezing in the out of doors and burning in the indoors. I prefer our seasons to the always “perfect” San Diego weather. I look forward to the fall foilage and the spring blooms. However, the older I get, the more I dislike the cold and freezing winds out of the north.
I suppose part of my “gripe”, my rant, has to do with clothes. Do you put up the summer clothes and get out the winter woolens? Too early. Do you dress for the warm afternoons or the chill evenings? Carry a sweater? Good shoes or shoes that can stand rain and slush? A hat is a daylong commitment — once it’s on your head, your hair will never be right for the rest of the day — but it isn’t something you can wear all day at the office and in court or church or such.
I know. Children starving in the Sudan and American G.I.s dying in Iraq and I’m worried about my clothing choices. Does anyone wish to express surprise that I’m vain? I thought not.
A personal note from this weekend
Mary Beth is back home in Memphis, albeit not as timely as she had hoped. Her plans were to leave OKC all packed by noon and get to Memphis about 7 p.m. Sunday. She didn’t leave until 4 p.m. and only made it to Russellville, Ark., before having to stop. All’s well that ends well and she’s safely ensconsed in her new home according to the email note I got today.
I don’t have the vocabulary to communicate my feelings about seeing her this weekend, even were I to write 100,000 words. She may have said it best when she wrote that she still loves me and doesn’t seem to have any choice in the matter. MB, I feel absolutely the exact same way.
Meanwhile, I’ve had a series of acrimonious emails from another woman from my past that went on over the weekend. So sad. I know for certain that I still love this woman and that she has very strong feelings of affection for me. She tells people she loves me, and I believe it. Nevertheless, we can’t seem to get along. Part of the answer to that riddle is fear. We’re afraid of each other in some way(s), I think, and that makes us lash out. Let me back up and little and not try to speak for her. I’m afraid of her and the least little thing can set me off. When you add to that the lack of emotional communication by written word and my propensity for vivid language, the chances of acrimony increase exponentially. I believe there must be something of that going on with her as well. I wrote something in the blog with nothing but fondness and she read something entirely different, even quoting me as saying something that was no where in the text. An extremely similar situation led to our breakup — I wrote an email with one intent and she read abusive intent into my words and broke it off with me. Again, 100,000 words can’t express my feelings of sadness, frustration, hurt and unrequited love. The relationship is Humpty Dumpty now. Neither of us, I sadly admit to myself, will ever have the trust to get anywhere near where we once were. I think it’s hopeless to even think that we’ll be able to put Humpty back together again, not even with the help of all the King’s horses and all the Queen’s men.
I was also supposed to see the pseudonymical Erika West this weekend, but that didn’t work out. Her busy schedule and a new automobile trumped my getting to visit and looks like it will be a barrier again this week. The course of true love is never smooth, they say.
In a sense, none of that matters. I’ve been so crazy about the lovely Juliet lately that I don’t know that I have time for anything else. Sometime I’ll write at length about my lifelong quest for the perfect kiss, but let me just say at this point that the lovely Juliet has some special magic about the way she kisses. I feel sorry for anyone who has never been kissed in the way I’ve been kissed by Juliet. It’s worth anything and everything. VERY VERY VERY special.
One more “former” to mention…a certain antiques dealer looked so killer yesterday in white pants and kinky high heels that I just about couldn’t stand it. I’ve vowed to be as emotionally, romantically and sexually unavailable to her as she is to me, but vows can’t stand up to hormones, it seems, or that they can, but just barely. VA VA VOOM!!! She’s been dieting or working out or something and looks so skinny and … better just leave it at VA VA VOOM.
Some random thoughts
Tom Delay is indicted again, this time for both conspiracy and the underlying crime of money laundering. Meanwhile, his high powered attorneys are working to get earlier indictments dismissed over a “technicality”. Isn’t this the same Hammer who blasts trial lawyers for getting criminals off scott free on technicalities? I find that those who think lawyers get people off on technicalities believe that those technicalities are their God Given Constitutional Rights when their own ass gets into a crack. We’ll see who thinks what about “technicalities” when Bill Frist, Senate Majority Leader, is in trouble with the SEC for insider trading of his family’s HCA stock, Rush Limbaugh faces justice for Oxycontin use and distribution, Karl Rove and Scooter Libby for “outing” a CIA agent, and that whole cabal of fascist corporatists called Republicans is exposed as being owned, lock, stock and barrel by the Forces of Evil. This message is brought to you by Hyperbole R Us.
movie review
Went to see “Corpse Bride” with the lovely Juliet last night. Very good movie, even though I’m not fond of musicals, but not quite up to “Nightmare Before Christmas”, the earlier Tim Burton movie of the same vein, in my own opinion. Of course, as Juliet and I agreed, a film can be darn good and not as good as “Nightmare” and this one is. Johnny Depp absolutely amazes me and I think he’s the best thing to happen in Hollywood in many a year.
Upcoming Event
Be sure to put The Girlie Show on your calendar. Some 40 women artists will show their works at Farmer’s Market Oct. 14, with the fabulous DeShan as one of the 4 strawboss honcho leaders. Tickets are $12 in advance and there’s no better way to spend a little cash in OKC that night, IMHO.
Beware! The Cold Front Comes
Be on the lookout for some sketchy behavior by yourself and those around you. A cold front is on the way into town. Everyone I know has no trouble at all recognizing that the weather and Mother Nature in general affects domestic animals — our cows, horses, dogs and cats. We’ve all seen it. We pretty much know for sure that animals in the wild have weather and natural behaviors like hibernation. Everyone “knows” that chickens and whatnot will get excited right before an earthquake. What makes us think that humans, mammals that we are, don’t also feel the effects of weather? When there’s a big change in the weather like that, I certainly notice myself and those around me getting on edge and flopping about. Add to that the fact that it’s going to rain and Oklahomans, with 250 plus days of sunshine a year, don’t know how to drive on wet asphalt. I especially don’t much like the change since I love to drive around with my ragtop down and the wind in my hair and my little Miata doesn’t perform all that well on wet or icy roads. My one wreck in the past many, many years was a result of hitting a wet spot on an Arkansas mountain curve. My love, MB, still won’t drive in the car with me after THAT little episode. I don’t just think it’s barometric or a result of precipitation, btw. I think all sorts of natural phenomena don’t get enough credit for their effect on human behavior. For Example, the word “lunatic” comes from “luna”, the moon, and if you don’t think a full moon causes crazy behavior just ask an ER nurse or a cop. Once, long ago, while a reporter at The Oklahoman, there was a full moon on a payday Friday when a winter storm kept most everyone home and the domestic calls to the police station — shootings, stabbings, you name it — went through the roof. It was bedlam in the old fashioned sense of the word, a reference to the mental asylum in England. Anyway, I’m betting that tomorrow sees some craziness based on nothing but a change in the weather. See if you don’t feel it when you get quiet and look for it.