Whom Should America Elect?

We kind of know what the rest of the world thinks.  Obama, hands down.  Me too. 

Here in Tallahassee Florida World, there is a conservative blogger on Tallahassee.com whom we know as ptfan1.  He’s no right-wing fanatic, unlike many there who simply cut and paste or outright plagiarize  posts from elsewhere.  He believes the Number One threat facing the U.S. is terrorism.  Me too.  He believes we need to be willing to do whatever it takes to protect the U.S.  Me too.  He’s not going to be happy with some kind of namby-pamby “Can’t we all just get along?” response to terrorists.  Me neither. 

Where we differ is in who is best qualified to take us where we need to go.  And I have to say, the reason I like listening and talking with him, is that it forces me to clarify my position.  And my position is crystal clear at the moment. 

Respect for the U.S. in the world is at an all-time low.  We erased the sympathy the world had for us after 9/11 by invading Iraq, which had nothing to do with 9/11.  Never mind that the U.N. inspectors found no evidence of WMDs.  We’re Americans, and we’re smarter.  So we “found” evidence…since proven to be false…which justified our invading Iraq.    And hasn’t that worked out well?  Terrorism and Iraq don’t even belong in the same sentence. 

If acting unilaterally on bad information is in the best interests of the U.S., please stop the bus and let me get off.  If we can’t criticize the (undeclared) war and the President who got us there, then I must need to go apply for citizenship in Switzerland. 

The very fact of electing Obama would send a message to the world that we are who we say we are.  I believe that tensions would ease overnight.  What we don’t need is another cowboy who is still fighting the Vietnam War.  The NY Times columnist Thomas Friedman was in Egypt when Obama overtook Clinton in the delegate count, and his lunch companions were fascinated that a person whose father was a Muslim, and who has a Muslim name, could make it this far in the U.S.  He asked, Could this ever happen here?  That a Christian could make it to this point?  And they were like, Are you crazy?  Of course not.  But Friedman said, Obama has restored the “idea” of America in the minds of people everywhere. 

No way will the saber-rattling of John McCain accomplish that.  It will truly be more of the same.  We need more diplomacy and more aid, so that we quit creating terrorists where there were none before–like in Iraq.  You know what?  In short, back the hell off.  We ought to admit we made a mistake, but I’m not holding my breath.  We still have the biggest sticks, and I have no problem using them if we have to.  But it’s high time to dole out the carrots.  John McCain doesn’t seem to me to be a carrot type of guy.  His repertoire seems to consist of sticks, followed by more sticks if the first sticks weren’t big enough (aka, the “Surge”).

Waiting for Gustav

Unlike Tropical Storm Fay, I’m not waiting for Gustav to hit here, I’m waiting for Gustav to hit New Orleans.  It’s going to hit New Orleans or quite near there, and you know that when the National Hurricane Center publishes these ominous words:  Preparations to protect life and property should be rushed to completion.  When they reach that point, they are no longer guessing.  I’ve seen those words many times, and they should strike fear into the hearts of anyone with a shred of sense.  What those words really mean is, Get out now.  If you wait any longer it will be too late.  So the hurricane will strike anywhere from Cameron, Louisiana, to the Alabama/Florida border.  Which puts NOLA right in the middle. 

All this morning I’ve been experiencing what I call the Hurricane Dilemma.  I’ve been crossing my fingers and hoping that it didn’t take a sudden turn to the east, where it would threaten Florida.  Specifically, Tallahassee, where my personal butt is parked.  But when you engage in hopes of that sort, when a land-falling hurricane is an inevitability, you are essentially hoping that it hits someone else.  And I don’t wish that for anyone.  Thus, the Hurricane Dilemma. 

The good news, if there can be any such thing, is that this time the City of New Orleans and FEMA seem to have their act together.  They provided evacuation assistance to the poor and elderly and the sick who had no means to voluntarily evacuate themselves.  Hospitals have evacuated patients.  Most of the able-bodied people who did have the means to voluntarily evacuate seem to have done so.  In a picture I  saw on MSNBC.com about 30 minutes ago, I-10 leading from the airport to downtown is empty.  That has never happened in this lifetime. 

I have a sort of love-hate feeling for this city I lived in for four years, but at times like these when she is threatened with her life, the love takes over.  This morning I read an interview with a resident who lives in the neighborhood where “Vera” died.  Vera was a woman who was struck by a car and died in the street during the post-Katrina chaos.  Her body laid there for days, until eventually the neighbors built a sort of makeshift tomb of bricks around her.  Then they made a sign, and the picture of the tomb and the sign became one of the most iconic images of Katrina–like the pictures of people holding hands and jumping from the Twin Towers during 9/11.  The sign said, “Here lies Vera.  God Help Us!”

Whatever destruction is to come, I know I won’t see that again. 

To see the photo of empty I-10, visit this article:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26451955

Sarah and the Polar Bears–Not a Bedtime Story

In January of this year, Sarah Palin wrote a piece for the New York Times, explaining her opposition to listing the polar bear as an endangered species.  She wants us to know that she is as much a fan of polar bears as anyone, and wants them to be protected–that is, if they need it.  But they don’t.  There are more polar bears today than there were 40 years ago, so what’s the problem?  She wants us to know that Alaskans have been taking care of polar bears since Time Immemorial, and no pointy-headed scientists from elsewhere need interfere.  The Science with a capital S just doesn’t support there being a problem with polar bears, at least the science she pays attention to. 

She thinks there should be a balance between the needs of polar bears and the needs of people.  Hello.  Who today doesn’t recognize that as hypocrisy?  She could just go ahead and say, Polar Bears be damned, ’cause they don’t vote, and I’d feel a bit better about her.  But don’t pretend to be an environmentalist, a conservationist, or whatever happy term you’d prefer for yourself. 

Allegedly she agrees that “climate change” (the euphemism for global warming) is a reality, but sees no connection between that and human activity.  There go those pointy-headed scientists and Nobel Peace Prize-winning idiots like Al Gore again. 

The “real” reality is that listing the polar bear as an endangered species will, according to the Associated Press, interfere with “prime oil and gas development in prime polar bear habitat off Alaska’s north and northwestern coasts”.

Another quote:  “Oil and natural gas and the jobs they create are part and parcel of life in Alaska: “If you are not for opening ANWR, in the state of Alaska, you couldn’t get elected dogcatcher,” says former Alaska state Rep. Ray Metcalfe, a Republican-turned-Democrat who supports Democratic presidential nominee Barack Obama and anticipates Palin’s critics will probably zero in on the oil drilling issue.”

In Palin’s photos yesterday she is sporting some kind of lapel pin, which I took to be a seal.  Maybe it’s a polar bear.  A seal, being the primary food of polar bears, would be more appropriate. 

Sarah Palin and Wikipedia

On Thursday morning, just after 8:00 A.M., someone using the name “YoungTrig” went into Wiki and edited Sarah Palin’s page.  Overall, 32 changes were made, and those changes placed her in a more favorable light, minimizing any “problems” and maximizing accomplishments. 

When Wiki discovered it, they froze her page so that no further editing can take place.  (Apparently G.W. Bush’s page has been frozen for years, so this is not uncommon.)

I learned this yesterday from an interview on NPR with one of Wiki’s editors.  Naturally, suspicion as to who did it falls on Palin herself, since “Trig” is the name of her newest child.  Whoever “Trig” really is, and Wiki didn’t know (at least not yesterday), it’s someone who has never edited before.  The editor interviewed said it’s considered bad form to edit information about yourself, but of course it isn’t prohibited.  It could have been some Republican operative, who knowing she would be named McCain’s veep choice the next day, was charged with the task of “cleaning up” whatever might be found about her on the Internet.  (Can’t have any nude pictures floating around out there on MySpace, can we?)  If so, it was really stupid to use the name YoungTrig, pointing as it does to Palin herself, but whoever said Republican hit-men were overly smart?

An even better conspiracy theory would be for it to have been a Democratic operative, deliberately using the name to implicate her.  And the very smartest thing would be to make her sound more favorable; if edited to make her look worse, especially using that name, everyone would have immediately smelled a rat.  Diabolical!  Rovian!

I’m staying neutral on the issue, until Wiki comes up with the “culprit”, if ever.  My main point is, however, that if you’re using Wikipedia as your main source of information about Palin, you might want to choose something else.

Driving While Crazed

This has nothing to do with driving under the influence of drugs or alcohol; it’s about driving while under the influence of some extreme emotional state, or while under the delusion that your reflexes are a lot faster than they really are, and that therefore, if faced with a dangerous situation, you’ll be able to stop viewing the news on your laptop, stop texting with one hand and putting your lipstick on with the other, and actually gain control of your vehicle before you become a statistic. 

In this case, it’s about extreme emotional states.  As an animal lover, I’m on the email list from a couple of animal-related sites, one of which is www.petplace.com.  This is a very good site with veterinary information, explaining pet diseases, conditions, and treatments in some detail.  Yesterday they sent me an email entitled “Harsh Words:  “It’s JUST a dog…Get another one–dog dies”.  Who could resist reading that to find out the full story?

The way Petplace tells it, a young man and his girlfriend are speeding down the road to the animal emergency clinic because their teacup poodle Missy is choking.  They’re stopped by the police for speeding.  The young man explains why he’s speeding, and the police officer says, “It’s just a dog, you can get another one.”  How callous!  No compassion!, Petplace says.  It allegedly takes the officer 20 minutes to write the speeding ticket, and during that time, Missy dies in the girlfriend’s lap.  Outrageous!, I say to myself.  But it almost has the ring of urban legend to it.  Fortunately, there is video from the officer’s squad car, which is shown on Good Morning America, along with an interview of the couple. 

And here’s the real story.  It’s almost like the above.  The young man is driving, but the “speeding” refers to driving between 95-99 mph, weaving in and out of traffic, dodging semis, and let me mention, talking on his cell phone to the clinic as he does so.  When he’s stopped, he hops out of the car and is completely hysterical.  He’s hopping around, flailing his arms, crying and pleading.  He comes across as someone whose last meal consisted of cocaine as an appetizer, a larger plate of cocaine as an entree, followed by a satisying dose of cocaine for dessert.  See for yourself: 

http://www.petplace.com/dog-videos.aspx?p=81

The sad truth of this story is that had they obeyed the speed limit, perhaps Missy would have made it to the emergency clinic on time.  Or maybe not.  And the police officer did say, “It’s just a dog, you can get another one.”  In a tense situation he didn’t have time to say all the things that went along with that, such as, “You aren’t going to have to worry about your dog dying or about getting another dog, because at this rate of speed and the way you’re driving, you’re going to kill the dog, along with yourself and your girlfriend, and maybe several other people too.”

Book Review: Resolution

Resolution is the name of a town.  The book is a classic Western, which is not at all my cup of tea.  I would never have given it a second glance if it were not for the fact that it was written by Robert B. Parker, whom I consider to be a giant of modern fiction. 

In case you’ve been living in a cave (or in Nebraska), Robert B. Parker is the author of the Spenser novels.  Crime fiction.  The basis of the long-ago TV series Spenser:  For Hire, starring the very handsome Robert Urich, who sadly died of cancer in 2002.

Parker’s writing style is Hemingwayesque, which is a word I’ve always wanted to use in a sentence so someone would think I was an intellectual.  But seriously, since I was in college, Hemingway has been my model for how to write.  Short sentences, common words.  Very sparing use of adverbs and adjectives.  Nothing flowery.  Believe me, it’s a lot harder to write that way.  When you write, or at least when I do, there is a sort of urge to use big words so that everyone will see how smart you are.  Hemingway got the part where you aren’t writing for yourself, you’re writing for a reader.  Pity I haven’t mastered that (see:  “Hemingwayesque”). 

But Parker gets it.  He almost out-Hemingways Hemingway.  Here’s another thing I like about Parker.  He writes man’s man type of stuff.  Now before you laugh, understand what I mean by that.  His characters are tough, ass-kicking kind of guys.  Don’t particularly relish it, but don’t shy away from killing.  They have a sense of honor, which may be somewhat imperfect at times, you know, sorta the way it is in real life.  In general, they like and respect women, dogs, and horses. 

In Resolution, the main character Everett Hitch is joined by his buddy Virgil Cole in a lawless town, where they sort of become the law by default.  Everett begins work for a local saloon owner named Wolfson as a “lookout”, which appears to be a guy who sits in a high chair with a shotgun waiting for trouble to form.  Then the dialogue goes something like, “Want me to kill him?”  Answer:  “Not yet.”  Response:”Gonna have to one day.”  Answer: “Not today.”  It packs a greater punch than I’m able to convey. 

So if you aren’t familiar with Robert B. Parker, this novel is as good a place as any to start.

Cabin Fever and the NY Times Sunday Crossword

Unbelievably, it’s still raining here in Tallahassee.  About an hour ago the dogs and I were startled out of our Sunday morning blahs by a sudden clap of thunder that was so loud I’m sure it could be heard in France.  The cat is here too, of course, but she is unfazed by such minor things as thunder and lightning.  She saves her excitement for the really big events, such as a squirrel running across the lawn.  Come to think of it, I haven’t seen a squirrel since Thursday.  They probably all drowned. 

Apparently Tallahassee “officially” received 9 1/2 inches of rain from Tropical Storm Fay but it seems like it was a lot more.  The newspaper says that people are reporting 15 to 20 inches in some areas.  And it isn’t a pretty picture.  Many streets and some homes are flooded, some people are still without power, and trees are down all over the place. It makes me count my blessings that I and my family of pets are safe, that I didn’t lose power, and that no trees fell on my house or property.  If the only thing I have to complain about is cabin fever, I am fortunate indeed.   

Since I didn’t lose power, I was able to continue the Sunday morning tradition of doing the New York Times crossword puzzle online.    And I must say, the New York Times has outdone itself in being diabolical.  Frequently there are puzzles where more than one letter must fit into the same square (called a “housing shortage”) or words that are spelled backwards, not to mention the deceptive and misleading clues.  Today, some of the answers include numbers.  For example, “UK counterespionage agency”, the answer to which is MI5.  Or “Common hockey power play”, which appears to be 5against4.  Then in the middle of the puzzle are instructions for what to do once you’ve completed the puzzle, which if I’m right, says “Cut along the dotted line, fold through each pair of numbers in the grid sequentially, to throw the paper airplane.”  Good grief!  I got yer paper airplane, you miserable wretch of a crossword puzzle!

In closing, one of the clues was very timely.  “Internet forum rabble-rouser”.  Five letters, starts with “T”…Hello, we know that answer!

Cabin Fever and Racial Identity

What, you might ask, do the two things have in common?  Not much, except maybe I would not have commented on the racial identity issue if I hadn’t been confined to the house by Tropical Storm Fay, which means I might have missed the comment by “Babette” on eehard’s blog entitled “Is Obama Black Enough?”

First, let’s get something out of the way.  I’m white.  Naturally blond.  Freckles, even.  My grandmother’s grandmother was from the Old Country.  That country would be Ireland.  My mother and grandmother had carrot red hair, which regrettably my sister and I did not inherit, and have been trying to correct artificially ever since.   On my father’s side of the family, we can only guess that their background was French.  Mostly because of the name, which shall remain unrevealed here, but also because of the location where they surfaced, and their appearance.  Dark brown hair and big noses.  Don’t believe me?  Go to France and walk down any street. 

So could it get any better?  Northern European descent.  The whitest of the white.  Well, somehow, I missed the part growing up where that made me special.  I thought it made me have a different skin, eye, and hair color than other people.  Here is as racist as I got:  I thought, Dang.  How sad that black people only get to have black hair and brown eyes. 

It took living in Memphis for me to understand that I was an enemy, and it took moving to New Orleans to finally get a break.  In New Orleans, it’s impossible to determine anyone’s race.  The absolutely wonderful New Orleans newspaper (the Times-Picayune) once did a  series of articles about the issue.  I hope they won a Pulitzer for it, but I don’t know.  They published a group of photographs on the front page of the newspaper, and asked, “What race is this person?”  You had to guess, and then on the inside pages, you found out what race the people identified themselves as, with some shocking results. 

In Louisiana in the 1990 census, something like 30% of the population checked “other” on the census form under the category of “race”, and wrote in “Cajun” or “Creole”. 

So Babette, don’t let the forms cramp your style.  Write in “Other”.  The real answer to that question, as eehard points out, is “Human”.

Dental Emergencies

First, let me say that I’m experiencing cabin fever and storm fatigue as a result of Tropical Storm Fay, and it’s only Day One of my captivity. 

Nonetheless, I have important information to impart about the hazards of going to the dentist.  Now everyone who enjoys going to the dentist, please raise your hand.  Okay then.  Thought so. 

It’s been a while since I went to the dentist and I have a lot of work to catch up on, but this past week I went in for what was supposed to be a relatively routine “deep cleaning”.  First the dentist gave me five injections to numb my entire mouth.  Fakename’s first piece of dental advice:  Never, ever let anybody do that to you.  The first thing that happened was that I had this sensation that my tongue had swollen to the size of a whale, and I could no longer speak.  It’s quite amazing how much of a role the tongue plays in speech. 

There is that moment between getting numbed and having the dentist or the hygienist actually start the work, when you worry whether you’re numbed enough or not.  Once the work starts and you realize you can’t feel it, you breathe this sigh of relief and relax.  Not counting the mild tension of worrying about whether the anesthetic will wear off prematurely. 

So I relaxed once the hygienist started to work.  At least my mind relaxed, but my body didn’t seem to be cooperating.  After only a couple of minutes I started to feel this rising sense of panic.  Deep breathing and concentrating on something else was not working.  I began to feel that I was choking, I was having trouble breathing, my hands started shaking uncontrollably, and I had the sensation that my insides were about to fly apart.  Keep in mind that I couldn’t speak.  I could only look at the hygienist with terrified eyes and show her my trembling hands.  The hygienist calmly left the room to speak to the doctor, and returned to say that they were going to give me oxygen, but to do that, I would have to move to another room. 

Only when I tried to stand did I finally realize this was some sort physical reaction I was having, and wasn’t just the result of being a scaredy cat, which would have made me deeply ashamed of myself.  I was so wobbly that I had to hold onto the hygienist’s arm to make it across the hall to the room with the oxygen. 

While I was hooked up to the O2, the hygienist explained what was happening.  Not to put too fine a point on it, I had been overdosed with epinephrine.  I had no idea, but it’s common practice to mix “epi”, as it’s fondly called, with dental anesthetic.  Epi contracts the blood vessels, which has the effect of causing the anesthetic to stay in place rather than dissipate; therefore it lasts longer.  Also the contraction of the blood vessels cuts down on bleeding.  I’m not allergic to epi, and I have no idea why this happened–maybe just the result of getting so much of it at once. 

And I’m not sure why the oxygen worked, but it did.  Partly, I guess, it had the effect of calming down the hyperventilation that was a consequence of the panic, and maybe it actually had a physical effect, allowing my body to somehow rid itself of the epi faster.  In any case, it worked, and I was able to go back to our original room, where the hygienist completed her work for another hour.  At the end, she pronounced me an awesome patient, which I think means, “Had a scary reaction to the anesthetic, and did not run screaming from the office”.

Now my chart has a big fat note on it that says “NO EPI”.  Fakename’s second piece of dental advice:  No epi.

Go Joe!

To all the Obama Bashers out there, and especially to you Hillary wannabes:  Joe Biden is the perfect choice.  First of all, there was never any hope that Obama would choose the she-Clinton as his running mate.  It would have been the dumbest thing he could ever possibly have done, and no matter what adjectives may be applied to Obama, dumb ain’t one of them. 

The list of reasons why Hillary would have been a terrible choice is long.  First, I don’t think she even would have accepted.  It would have been a bitter pill to swallow, that you ended up having to settle for second place.  Second, even if she had accepted, she would never have settled for second place.  Obama would have had to spend his whole presidency looking over his shoulder.  The third reason not to choose Hillary can be summed up in one word:  Bill.    Finally, when you get right down to it, she has no more experience than he does at actually running something, or at foreign policy–unless you count the fictitious running away from mortar fire at the airport in Bosnia. 

So before you Obama Bashers jump on me for that experience comment, be advised that I don’t care about Obama’s experience or lack thereof.  I see the president as the idea person:  the person who sets the tone, and represents the country.  The presidency, if you’ll think about it, is not really a position of great power, unless Congress abdicates its responsibilities and hands over the keys to the henhouse to the fox.  (See: George W. Bush, Iraq.)  Note that only Congress can declare war, and it has never declared war in Iraq.  So I guess we aren’t really at war, are we?  To me, smart counts.  I’ve had enough of dummies. 

So what were Obama’s choices?  Hillary–Not.  Another woman?  Even more insulting to the Hillaryites.  That leaves selecting a man, unless there’s a third sex I haven’t been informed about yet.  Selecting a male clone would not have been too smart either.  So what you get is an older, white male, with experience in foreign policy.  Chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations committee.  I was kind of sad that Biden’s own candidacy didn’t go further.  He’s smart, and tough, and will do a fine job as hatchet man while Obama remains the cerebral good guy. 

A final note to the Hillary fans.  I liked her.  I think she would have made a fine President.  I liked Obama better, and voted for him in the possibly relevant or not Florida primary, but I would not have been disappointed in the least if Hillary had won (which she did, in Florida).  However, in two words:  she lost.  She didn’t lose because she was a woman.  She lost because the woman she is, is Hillary Clinton.  Despite cries and whimpers to the contrary, I didn’t see a single shred of sexism in the campaign.  I did hear Hillary Clinton say Barack Obama wasn’t a Muslim as far as she knew.

So get over yourselves and do the right thing.  Don’t vote for a third term for Bush.  And, Go Joe!