For me, the most amazing aspect of tonight’s speech by Pile-on was how she kept part of the Bee going even with her hair down. This is a hell of a lot more impressive than field dressing a moose in my book.

 

Also, I have to admit that watching a crowd where men outnumber women by 2 to 1 scream out chants of “Drill Baby Drill” is something that may haunt me for a long time.

 

I didn’t hear word one from any of tonight’s speakers about the economy, health care, job losses, global warming, defending the Bill of Rights or opposing torture as un-American. However, I did get schooled on a few things.

 

5 things I learned tonight watching the Republican convention

  1. Big Mac was a prisoner of war
  2. Rudy was in NYC on 9/11
  3. Images of an infant being passed like a trophy football are very disturbing
  4. Referring to women as “Babe” and “Hot” is not sexist, but “shrill” is so offensive to women we may need a constitutional amendment to protect us against its usage
  5. McCain Campaign Manager Rick Davis was totally serious when he said: “This election is not about issues.”

 

Does anyone know if when Republican delegates hold up signs that say “SERVICE” whether they get it that a waiter isn’t going to appear with a menu?

 

Tonight W. called a bunch of people in this country angry. It was amazing. He actually got something right. 

 

Right-wing rumor mongers want us to believe everyone with an ACLU card gets a copy of The Official List of What Makes the Left Angry, but that just isn’t true. We get the Special Whistle that only other angry people can hear. Only a few really pissed off people have access to The List. I’m one of them and to further thoughtful national discourse on the important issues facing this country, I’m publishing The List here for the first time.

 

The Official List of What Makes the Left Angry

  1. Rain on our parades
  2. Dead puppies
  3. The Dodgers winning a pennant.

Wait…Hold on..….That’s the wrong list.

 

Since I can’t seem to find my copy of the list to help explain some of the Left’s Unfavorite Things, let’s focus instead on what “anger” in this context actually means.

 

Patriotism. 

Anger = Patriotism.

There that was simple.

So Karl Rove and Dick Cheney can’t actually control the weather.  Who knew?

 

After a milder than expected Gustav besieged a much better prepared Gulf States, the Republicans have no choice but to resume their conventional convention. Having Laura and Cindy lead daily telethons didn’t pan out. Instead, we’ll have W appearing by satellite (had that only happened more often, one might think) followed by the undead in the form of Fred Thompson and the unloved in the person of Big Mac’s BFF, Joe L. 

 

Today’s convention theme is:  “Who is John McCain.” Maybe tomorrow’s will be: “Who in the hell is Sarah Palin?”

 

Erratum to yesterday’s post:  Way more than a dozen protesters have been arrested. St. Paul is getting its money’s worth by arresting more than 300 people and charging half of them with felonies. I’m fully supportive of having the anti-social morons (aka “the anarchists”) held responsible for property damage to businesses, but the right to free expression – particulary dissent deserves greater protection than store windows. The former can’t be nearly as easily repaired as the latter.

This is turning into a bad week for St. Paul.  Hotel rooms are being cancelled. Balloons and party hats will have to find another day to come out and play with the Grand Old Party.  Heck, less than a dozen protesters have been arrested even though the Twin Cities have taken more security measures to safeguard against democratic expression than the US did to protect Baghdad museums and Iraqi pipelines after The Statute came tumbling down.

 

On the other hand, I have to believe the RNC is pretty happy with how things are turning out. You may think I’m either daft or just plain stupid for suggesting the GOP is well-served by having their convention turn into a telethon for hurricane relief. But hang with me, here.

 

The combo punch of Gustav and Bristol Palin behaving as nature intended has knocked the Convention-That-Couldn’t off the front lines of media coverage and voters’ minds. (Newsflash to the evangelicals: asking teenagers to abstain from sex really isn’t as effective as sex education that teaches about birth control.)

 

The Republican convention couldn’t:

  • Match the Democratic Convention in terms of symbolic imagery. Caroline Kennedy introducing Uncle Teddy who then delivered a rousing pass-the-baton speech was great TV, as well as a beautiful historic moment.
  • Match the Democratic Convention visuals of thousands of people of all colors and races looking like…. well, looking like the US does. Showing the same black woman, Asian man and Latino (we think he is anyway because of the moustache) among a sea of white faces might have reminded folks a GOP gathering really does look like Sunday at the country club.
  • Match the Democratic Convention for drama and oratory. (Btw, the words weren’t just pretty; they had depth and detail.) For examples, you need look no further than the Clintons and Obama with a little Biden and Schweitzer thrown in for fun.
  • Match the Democratic Convention for Nobel Peace Prize Winners.

 On the other hand, the Republican Convention could have showcased:

  • Another poorly delivered, stunningly familiar stump speech from Big Mac to his “friends.”
  • An undoubtedly not-yet-ready for prime time Sarah with a lot to explain from the biggest stage of her life.
  • Joe Lieberman pissing off even more Democrats, in addition to some Republicans that can’t understand why he and John are BFF.
  • George Bush. And Dick Cheney.

The best brains in the Republican Party have got to be feeling pretty good that instead of having to try and spin a mediocre convention into something meaningful, they can instead shift the focus to the Gulf States and “family values.”

 

Memo to ballplayers who gesture heavenward after hitting a single: God wasn’t involved. Even if you had hit the game-winning homer, God didn’t determine that your at-bat was more important than everything else on the planet at that particular moment and marshal the energy of the universe to up your batting average. Perspective is next to humility.

 

And speaking of what God pays attention to and willfully ignores, does it strike you as Twilight Zonish synchronicity that the Katrina anniversary and Gustav act as bookends for this election cycle’s conventions? Hard reminders that when all the dust from the political hoopla has settled what we need most from our leaders is for them to show no less compassion and courage than our people do.

 

Stupidest comment of the week: Cindy McCain claiming that Russia’s proximity to Alaska provides Palin with foreign relations experience. What may be particularly pitiable about this comment is that it may not have been an original thought to her but rather something she picked up from that sage at Fox News Steve Ducey, who said the same thing on the day Palin’s selection was made public.

 

Image to erase: Whatever Rush Limbaugh was visualizing when he announced he thought Sarah Palin was a ”babe” and agreed with a caller that: “She can’t take a bad picture even from the back end..”

 

5 simple questions to ask Sarah Palin:

No Palin on the Sunday morning talk shows, huh? When will the McCain campaign have her ready to really meet the press?

  1. Name the countries that make up the G8. (Hint: there are eight of them)
  2. Explain the relationship between the dollar’s weakness, oil prices and interest rates.
  3. Explain the role of the Fed and how that differs from the role of the Administration on addressing the US economy.
  4. What actions by a new Administration would have the greatest impact on the health care crisis in this country?
  5. Recently you said in an interview on MSNBC that you didn’t know what the VP does; can you tell us now what the role of the Vice-President is?  What does the VP do?

Admittedly, I am obsessed with the Beehive. It has cast a disproportionately large cloud of contained curls over my ability to reason why I am so pissed off at Sarah Palin’s promotion to pistol-packing (vice) presidential poseur-in-chief.

There are women I adore who sport the Beehive. Amy Winehouse. Marge Simpson. Patsy from AbFab. In Gary Larson’s world almost all the women feature the swept-up hairdo that says…that says…and there is the Gordian knot for me. What the hell is Sarah trying to tell us about herself with that hair?

The “Bee” and I were born a few months apart as a grateful country closed the book on the 1950s. Yet despite our parallel lives I understand nothing about the motivations that reside deep within those towering piles of pins and product. My instinct tells me that it’s all about the tease – the truth potentially hidden in the hint of who a woman might be if she actually released her pounds of hair.

Is there a feminist argument to be made? Surely there are some right-on sisters out there that have written dissertations on how the Beehive is a symbol of male oppression and female subservience. Sexuality caged high atop where thinking shouldn’t happen until a man can provide direction. Or am I stupidly naïve and the power truly lies with the Bee-Woman that purposefully restrains her sexuality as a taunt?

I am so miserably confused about her fucking hair.

Whoa there Nellies! I may have stumbled upon how Mitt Romney got passed over for someone almost as pretty. What if I’m not the only one confused by Sarah’s choice of coiffure?

Imagine this past Wednesday Big Mac turned to his aides and confessed that he couldn’t abide the sissy boys on the short list who never served a day in the armed forces.  Imagine a woeful Mac asking them to scour America for someone who knew the inside workings of a B-52 bomber like the back of their hand. Consider the possibility of those weary aides happily bringing Sarah and her proud B-52 back to Mac’s Sedona caves. The old man may very well think she flies them as well as wears them. After all they only met once before he decided he was good with entrusting our country’s future to her.

For an intelligent outraged reaction to the Palin selection look to Paul Begala (a Texan who knows hair). Begala on Palin at Crooks and Liars

I don’t know very much about Sarah Palin. I’m not supposed to. None of us is. And if the Republican playbook on this one works out, we won’t learn much more about her in the next few weeks before Election Day.  All that matters is that we know she is a woman, has kids, is married, carries an NRA card, was once a beauty queen and most recently has presided over the government of a state with corruption as its middle name. (Well, maybe we’re not supposed to know that very last part about corruption, especially since Palin is currently under criminal investigation herself.)

 

This is McCain’s Clarence Thomas pick. It’s a big FU to some members of his party and the country as a whole Sarah Palin is the perfect cardboard cut-out running mate for a guy that thinks he doesn’t need anyone else –not to advise him, not to challenge him and certainly not to take his place. 

 

To get a measure of just how cynical a pick this is let’s look at the facts.

 

For the last 20 months, Palin has been the governor of the state ranked 47th by population. Alaska. As in Northern Exposure and Princess Cruises. To put a fine point on it, she “governs” a state where the poulation rounds up to 690 thousand people (give or take a few Caribou).

 

If McCain was serious about finding someone with a great “executive office” resume, there are many American corporations with hundreds of thousands of employees and big budgets where McCain could have looked and found more management experience – even some women. Take Wal-Mart for example, they have 1.9 million employees and as an added bonus they sell guns. Recent lawsuits have upped their women in management numbers, too.

 

But let’s stick with actual government service. Right now, there are mayors in 16 cities in the US with larger populations – many of them with more than 2 years experience. Probably even a few with McCain’s chromosome set du jour.  No disrespect to mayors meant here (even a tip of the hat to Palin who was part-time mayor of Wasilla – pop. 5,550 – before landing the governor’s office by 150,000 votes in 2006), but can McCain truly believe that Palin’s track record gives her the executive management experience to be President of the United States?

 

Of course he doesn’t. Here is the real story: Big Mac doesn’t think he needs a veep. The other half of the ticket matters to him for sales and show purposes only. Why did McCain pick Palin over Romney and the other guys in well-tailored suits with more lines on their curriculum vitas?  Because men – especially some of those men – might disagree with him from time to time. McCain doesn’t expect Sarah to do that. And even if she did on some crazy day feel her oats and offer up a contradictory opinion he can dismiss it pretty easily because she doesn’t have his experience and well, while he might appreciate her opinion, she never was a prisoner of war or under investigation as one of the Keating 5.

 

Perhaps McCain’s lack of gravitas for a VP pick comes from his own experiences as always a bridesmaid and never a bride when the Bush men were making their selections. To Big Mac’s way of thinking how important can the role be if Quayle beat him out one year?

 

Let’s close on McCain’s track record on women.

 

We have seen the tape of McCain laughing so hard he cried as Hillary was called a bitch in a question to him at a public forum. We have read the stories of the salty old sailor calling his wife a cunt in front of reporters. The nicest word McCain may ever have for Sarah Palin is “prop.”

 

Note to Sarah: don’t expect to have John support you’re making the same salary as previous vice-presidents. McCain doesn’t believe in equal pay for equal work and he can easily make the argument Dick Cheney was more experienced than you.  

 

And one last shout-out to Cindy McCain with her arm in a sling: keep a close eye on your man. Last time he had both a disabled wife and an attractive woman in his life to fan his ego; it didn’t turn out too pretty for the wife.

I stand in.

Which is to say, I scuff and kick in the box. First, my back foot. Pushing it out pointedly erasing a little more chalk. Heel first. Next, I curl my toes hard under as if they were an additional set of cleats to grab the dirt. Then the left foot sets. A shoulder apart and flared out toward the gap in right. Curl the toes again. Tighter. I rock my hips a couple or three times – I try not to count – just feel the right number, then come to rest – knees slightly bent. Butt half back like on a high stool. My hands close one above the other in tender grips. My head is perfectly still and my chin scratches against the material that bunches at my shoulder. I believe that I can see the whole yard from where I stand here at the center of the universe.

 

 

I close my eyes on a slow long inhale.

And open them again with a pronounced puff of air from lips pursed into a ball. I stare down the green-black tunnel locking in on the red stitches rushing at me. My hands are tucked back as the bat head sweeps ahead first. It is such an easy swing. I stand and watch the ball sail away. I do this every morning.

 

 

Always my very first conscious thought.

I don’t get out of bed until I have driven the ball – far and hard. Sometimes to center. Or left. Even right. Never a dribbler back to the mound. Sometimes a monstrous fly I lose in the sky. Mostly a screaming line drive gone almost before I even hit it. I do this again – and again – during the day. As many times as it takes.

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