Farewell to Molly Ivins

She was one of my heroes. She wrote so well. And surprisingly for a Smithy, she was so unpretentious. And she loved Texas. It went with the rest of her--it was all part of the package.

The one thing I don't get was her kindness to Current Occupant. She was an example to us all--remaining eternally optimistic, understanding why he was the way he is, and not despairing. Her last column, however, was a call to action. Read it and mourn her passing.

Dumpster diving senator

It just keeps getting better here in fly-over land. First we have Michele, the MN 6th district Congresswomen who can't keep her hands, or mouth, off Current Occupant. Now we have Senator Flexible, aka Norm Coleman, who showed up at the SOTU address on Tuesday with a big gash in his forehead. Turns out a redecorating effort had resulted in a treasured antique lamp being thrown in the dumpster. Stormin' Norm was dispatched by wife Laurie to retrieve it. The dumpster and the senator met, and the senator came out the worse for wear. Fortunately, the lamp was OK.

You just can't make this stuff up.

The girl in the white slinky dress, or Michele gets her man

What an embarassment. Michele Bachmann, the recently elected congresswoman from the MN 6th district, made a specatcle of herself on Tuesday night. Pawing the President, whom she admits is a hunk, Michele gave him a big kiss on the lips as he passed by her carefully selected aisle seat. She then kept her hand on his back as he pulled away from her. Luis, watching the State of the Union as part of his effort to understand Norteamericano politics, was shocked.

And Luis and I were not the only ones who noticed her surprising behavior. Even the New York Times mentioned it. And Michele is counting her lip-to-lip encounters with Current Occupant. "He kissed me in Minnesota, too", explained Michele. And I though Jesse Ventura was bad for the reputation of the North Star State....

Toys for Boys

XM Radio. This is our newest toy. OLGS got it so he could listen during his long commute to the 25 or so sports radio stations that broadcast via satellite. Covering golf, the World Cup (and when is the next one? 2008?) and, of course, Major League Baseball (MLB), XM Radio has something for everyone. And it is pretty cool.

But so totally old fashioned. It operates via a clunky antenna, which you can run through your car tape player, making an annoying hiss. Or you can attach it to your car radio antenna, requiring massive amounts of wire to be draped throughout the car. Either way, it seems like a primitive technology. It is also available online, but with 85 stations rather than the 200+ available via satellite. And their web site is quite basic, i.e., doesn't work.

We are radio and movie junkies. We do not watch TV. The first and last time I've watched TV in recent months was Tuesday night, when Current Occupant mounted the podium and tried to read the teleprompter. And look where that got us. I'll stick to radio.

Swimming upstream

What a choice. I can talk about Current Occupant and his deer-in-the-headlights look last night as he tried to look presidential. Or I can tell you that Joe High School broke the pool record at a swim meet at the Buffalo Middle School, population 15,000. He was 10 seconds off his usual time, due to a nasty cold. But they probably don't get too many 500 freestyle swimmers at the Buffalo Middle School. Joe's name will be listed on the side of the pool until another record-breaker comes along.

And speaking of record breaking, Current Occupant only came alive during the tugging-at-the-heartstrings portion of his State of the Union speech. Otherwise he was completely wooden and totally inarticulate--for example, his explanation of the tax savings that his health insurance scheme would provide was incomprehensible. He must have skipped a sentence on the teleprompter. You almost feel sorry for the guy. And that's what's record-breaking. But remember, I did say almost....

Dirty Weekend

Trust the Brits to take romance and turn it into something sordid-sounding. The term once referred to an illicit weekend trip to Brighton, Blackpool, or some other down-market resort.

Anyway, OLGS and I had our own, non-British version at the Hotel Sofitel in Minneapolis to celebrate our anniversary. Maybe it seemed OK because the Sofitel is a French chain. The French, in contrast to our friends across the pond, don't seem to get their knickers in a twist over such matters. OLGS and I were upgraded to the executive class room, which features a large bathroom with cool shower and a flat screen TV. We drank martinis, watched the flat screen TV, and fell asleep before we had a chance to drink the champagne. The next morning we had a lovely breakfast with really good coffee, croissants, and fresh squeezed OJ. Then we went off to the swim meet. No rest for the wicked....

Minneapolis Swimming-True Team Sectionals

I just can't write about the Current Occupant and his gang any more. In fact, their present approach is so depressing I haven't written anything for two weeks. Why convene the Iraq Study Group if you're going to resolutely ignore every single recommendation it makes? Pretty remarkable.

So, let's talk about high school swimming instead. Specifically, let's talk about the True Team Boys Sectionals, held today at Minneapolis's Southwest High School, the only high school pool in the city. Joe High School did very well. He's chipping time off his 500 freestyle, getting within spitting distance of being a state qualifier. His backstroke is respectable. And the coach had him swim the fly in one relay. South High would have done much better overall if they had had a diver--this is, after all, High School Swimming and Diving. But they don't.

Parents at swim meets are usually OK, if a little intense. I've been going to swim meets for so long that I'm in the intense category. But I do not time the splits--I let OLGS do that. He was the announcer for the meet, so he had a ringside seat. And Joe High School got three medals for his efforts. All in all a good day.

Happy New Year

2007 begins with a grim contrast. On the one hand, there is significant and genuine appreciation for Gerald Ford's nice-guy demeanor. He appears to have been godly, upright, and more or less sober. He is applauded for being "normal". I was around during the Ford era. I remember him as boring, the 1974 incarnation of Babbitt. But that was then... Now Babbitt looks great.


And on the other hand, there is Current Occupant. Even though no one says it, he is infinitely smaller by comparison with former President Ford. He is definitely not upright, his godliness is circumscribed, and even though he no longer drinks, he is far from sober. The concept of "normal" does not arise when describing the CO. The sight of him delivering a tribute to his predecessor is almost too much to bear.

Fish and Visitors

I had a headmaster back in the Jurassic period who used to send the girls off on holiday breaks with the admonition that "fish and visitors smell after three days." I later learned that this was one of Ben Franklin's aphorisms, but at the time, it seemed pretty original to my 16 year old mind. And it's probably telling that I remember very little else about the headmaster--I'm sure he offered other lessons besides that one, but they didn't stick.

Our house is full of young men. They come and go, leaving in their wake a drift of debris--books, socks, empty soda cans. Apart from that exasperating trait, it's wonderful to have them. And in a few days, our lives will be quiet and dull once more. And while they have been here for more than three days, they don't smell yet. They may be slobs, but they take showers.

Christmas letter

I enjoy getting Christmas letters from friends and family. It's fun to hear from people you don't see very frequently, and be reminded about why you like them. However, many of the letters I receive are filled with lengthy descriptions about children's sporting, academic, and artistic accomplishments. All interesting, but maybe too much information for my already overwhelmed little brain.

The gold standard in Christmas letters was established by my dad's stepfather, Ray W. Tobey. A schoolmaster from darkest Maine, Ray was a curmudgeonly Yankee who somehow got himself appointed to teach the offspring of the famous and monied in Connecticut. His Christmas letters were models of economy, elegance, and, if you had a really strong microscope, humor. Usually no more than one or two short paragraphs, the letters mentioned in passing his limited travels, visits from his wife's children and granchildren, and the natural world around his 19th century farmhouse. The letters were printed, without typos, on glossy paper from a local job printer, and always included a small black and white photo of the farm, the huge pine tree, or some other local landmark. That was it.

Ray is long gone, as is the pine tree. But I unconsciously compare every Christmas letter I receive to those he sent. And is that a bad legacy? As we say in Minnesota, it could be worse...

Snow!

Luis is in hog heaven. It snowed about an inch this afternoon, and he had his first snowball fight in the parking lot at a shopping mall. He thinks it is beautiful, and so it is.

Braces, just in time for the holiday season

Poor Joe High School. Today he got braces on his teeth for the second time. They are blue metal, and really hurt. The first effort was when he was much younger, the idea being that if you did it early you could avoid the full metal jacket later on. It was not to be. Poor Joe has a cross bite, ihnerited from yours truly.

Back in the day, something like a cross bite was not usually corrected unless it looked terrible. So my teeth are as nature made them.

And, there's been a cultural shift. Nowadays, nice middle class families don't just strive to give the kids a good education and some foundational backbone with which to face life. A well equipped child not only needs a college degree, but straight teeth, clear skin, waxed eyebrows, and a manicure. I suspect that the orthodontists' lobby spends hours or days at its annual conference figuring out which guilt buttons it can press.

And it works. At the ortho's office, children of immigrants whose mothers are dressed in the hijab are waiting to have their jaws expanded. Talk about acculturation....

Holiday prep, or how to avoid reality

It's discouraging. There is no snow, Joe College Grad won't be home until December 24 ("those tickets are so expensive, Mom"), and the Current Occupant seems to have no idea of the hole he has dug for us and for the world.

The CO even had a way out--the Iraq Study Group--but chose to dismiss their recommendations out of hand. I feel as if we are in an episode of the Twilight Zone or a Greek tragedy. I'm waiting for the big recognition scene, when Hamlet or Lear or George realizes what he's done and throws himself to the wolves waiting in the snow outside the White House.

But I forgot. There is no snow because of global warming. And that is just one more thing that GWB chooses to ignore. When the curtain finally comes down on this amazing period of history, the Current Occupant will still have no idea how he has disappointed his audience. He had the biggest stage in the world, and he used it to show cartoons.

Snow Expectations

There is no snow in Minnesota. And that's not because it's too cold to snow. It's because of global warming. Every winter has started later, been warmer, and ended sooner than the last. The years of -30 -degrees and three feet of snow until May have vanished. Instead of the average 7 inches of snow in November, we had none. Zilch. Nada.

Our Mexican student, Luis, is very disappointed. He has been waiting for it to snow since the beginning of November. I keep telling him, "Any day now." And the days roll by, with no snow, and 45 -degree temps. Even that is cold for Luis. But, it would be nice if he had some snow to compensate for the temperature.

No-show senators, Sumner, Kennedy, and Johnson

Appparently nine senators have been no-shows at the Capitol since the 1940's because of ill-health or discouragement. I would love to be in the Senate historian David Ritchie's office right now, digging up the dirt on those nine guys who didn't show up to work in the period since WWII.

The first thing the researchers had to do, of course, is determine how far back to go. They clearly didn't go back as far as 1856, when Senator Charles Sumner of Massachusetts (yes, folks, of Sumner Tunnel fame) was beaten to unconsciousness by a member of the House from South Carolina who sought revenge for Sumner's allegedly insulting remarks about his uncle (or cousin in some accounts) Senator Andrew Butler. Sumner did not return to the Senate until 1859, when he again took the abolitionist cause. Some years later, another Massachusetts senator, John F. Kennedy, took a lengthy leave of absence from the Senate to recuperate from his ongoing back problems.

So, Senator Johnson is in good company. I don't think the Senate Republicans should revisit those Committee assignments any time soon.