January 2008 archive

So.  You’re not looking for meta or political, but the personal reminiscence or poetry.

Well on Wednesday you’ll get typeset Tennyson, but today you get me and Kools.

I used to smoke Kools, the worst cigarette in the world because it’s Mentholated and filtered with asbestos.  I’d smoke until my lungs felt “brown”.

One time, while I was smoking Kools, I got invited to a party with a bunch of people I didn’t know.  They also didn’t smoke and the girls were kind of cute and interesting and I didn’t realize at the time how much I stank.

Eight hours later I emerged (having been welcomed and accepted and indulged in what I most desire which is intelligent conversation with peers) and I got in my car and right after I fired it up I fired up a Kool.

And right after I turned the corner out of sight I parked and barfed my guts out from the sick.

Did that stop me?  No.  I went on to smoke and not smoke.  I finally started (I’m done now) once again at a High School Reunion where I practically ripped open a cigarette machine for a pack of Merits because I felt inadequate.  So did the girl with the biggest tits in second grade who was right next to me and would have banged me in the hall if my fiance hadn’t been in the ballroom.

Gotta love reunions.

From there I went on to a point where it was kind of a bonding ritual between me and the dad.  He’d always smoked and so had his mom and dad.  They liked the smell and so do I.  You can smoke in my car if you like, I’m already dead.  I know exactly how long it takes to smoke a Kent III King- 5 minutes because that’s how long our mandatory breaks were.  Smoke them to the stub and crush them in the tub I have my last ashtray hanging around unclean to remind me what my lungs look like.

But there came a time when I decided I was done so I went on the gum and it’s been a while.

This won’t be a long essay.

I never watch Mr. Bush, I can’t stand to hear his voice or see his face.

But I do read the transcripts of what he says.

I was wondering if he’d mention it tonight.  He certainly didn’t mention it in 2006.  And if he did mention it last year, I don’t recall.

But he did mention it this year.  How kind of you, Mr. Bush.

 

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…if by a liberal they mean someone who looks ahead and not behind, someone who welcomes new ideas without rigid reactions, someone who cares about the welfare of the people – their health, their housing, their schools, their jobs, their civil rights, their civil liberties..if that is what they mean by a “liberal” then I am proud to be a liberal.

          —    John F. Kennedy

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In the conservative world, the word “liberal” is often used as a smear and an epithet in an attempt to denounce anyone who they dislike or who stands opposed to their ideas and idiot ideology. But now, after seven years of utter disaster at the hands of a conservative Administration — one that inherited a conservative Republican majority in Congress, only to lose it six years later — the nation and Conservatives have seen the disaster that their beliefs and policies lead to in terms of economic, political, military and social debacles, any one of which should give any sane citizen pause.

Conservatives, however, are not ones to reflect or reconsider failed positions or evidence that their flawed approach to government, to money, to military and political strategy and to social reform are simply bad policy.

It was a good day today.  Late last night when I went to check on the horses they were both laying down on the fresh bedding.  The previous owner said that Rio never laid down as he was too skiddish.  I read some advice columns that said it is a sign that the horse is comfortable in their surroundings.

The horses and dog spent some quality time together while I tried out the new snow scoop, like a shovel but you just push, no lifting required.  I figured out what was wrong with one exterior light and one interior light.  Unpacked the first load of tools into the basement.

Ran out to the local hardware store where I was greeted by some friendly local faces and they filled me in on the best music venues in the area.  Picked up some bird feed and sewet cakes, extra gloves and a new hat.

(I was originally going to write this in one post, but then I realized it was going to get way too long.  There’s a lot of ground that needs to be covered, so I’m splitting it up into a few essays.  This part introduces you to the point of view from which I’ll be writing throughout the series, and then focuses on the historical reasons behind our current election and voting systems and why I view them as separate and dependent systems.)

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I am a gamer.  I enjoy playing games and have done so nearly my entire life.  Of course, I don’t like all games.  Who does?  In my case, games of chance are not my cup of tea, since there’s little, if any, skill involved.  And I’m not much into sports.  (I must be un-American!)  That doesn’t mean I’m unfamiliar with those games or that I don’t appreciate them, but being that I’m uninterested in them, I haven’t taken the time to really learn their rules.  Primarily, I’m a role player, but I also enjoy board games, card games, silly games, serious games, and many other types.  I’ve been playing games since I can remember, but I wasn’t a student of games (so to speak) until after I left high school.  I want to briefly (I hope) explain why this has any bearing on elections and voting.

This is weird, but I thought I’d pass it along.

I hadn’t gotten around to making calls until today due to the press of the upcoming primary.  Between 11 and 11:30 Pacific Time, I reached most of the targeted Senators in person, and left messages at most of the others.  It was the standard spiel: (1) you should require truth for reconciliation — the question of what punishment the telecoms had earned was separate from the question of whether they had committed crimes, but we’ll never find out what crimes they committed if we pass this amnesty; (2) it damages our system to let those with great lobbying resources get away with having committed crimes with impunity; (3) the grassroots are really, really upset about this issue and it isn’t going away.

In most cases, I spoke to a young man or woman, mostly polite, sometimes diffident.  Having suffered through my speech, without fail they all politely thanked me and promised “I’ll pass that along to the Senator.”  (Tim Johnson’s guy also accepted my good wishes and told me he’s doing well.)  I was at most a tick mark on one side of a ledger for them, if they followed through on that promise at all, but one call was a little different.

Like many people, I really wanted a horse when I was a child. I used to day dream about riding through meadows filled with wildflowers, running across streams and through forests. Our family, of course, couldn’t afford a horse, and I doubt they’d have gotten me one even if we had more money.

So my aspirations were quickly focused on horse-back riding lessons. Well, we really didn’t have the money for that, either. It’s hardly a cheap activity and requires considerable parental involvement, shuttling the rider to and from a stable each week. I did participate in a horse-back riding week-long summer camp two years in a row, but that wasn’t enough to really teach me how to ride.

One day, my family decided to go to a fair. It wasn’t a big fair, by any standards, but they had a number of fun rides, and cotton candy, and silly games, like whack-a-mole. I always felt sorry for the poor mole.

I thought there might be a pony ride at the fair. My hopes were raised when I heard another little girl say that she’d just gone riding. So I looked and looked, but didn’t see any ponies. I did, however, see a camel. With a child riding on its back.

And that’s how I came to ride on a camel. I think I’d have preferred a pony.