Waiter? Can I have another bowl of that du jour soup?

All together now:
Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my!
Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my!
Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my!
Elephants and Donkeys and Birds, oh my!

Elephants, Donkeys and Birds?

Well, just Elephants and Donkeys. The political kind, not the mammals. Is a donkey a mammal? I have no idea, but then again, I could never remember if a tomato was a fruit or a vegetable. Wanna know who lost that game "Animal, Vegetable, Mineral" every time he played?

You got it...I did.

Ever tried to define a democrat and a republican? I mean, apart from the basic misconception that a republican is a rich Anglo-Saxon dude without a heart (the Tin Man to keep the lame Wiz metaphor going) and a democrat is a person of, for, and by the people (that would be the Scarecrow - I think).

Republicans and democrats are hard to define. Why? Because they're not that far separated on the social or philosophical scale. For the sake of argument, we're going to throw out the Diane Feinstein's and the Sean Hannity's of the world. They're too far on either side of the spectrum to even bother with, and therefore too easy to define. Sean Hannity thinks the sun rises and shines on conservatism, and he can't voice a complete sentence without starting and/or finishing with the word "liberal". Diane Feinstein would prefer the world just go into a group hug and sing "Kumbaya", and all will be ok after all sing a few bars and share some milk and cookies.

Now that I have established for the purpose of this weblog that republicans and dem's are essentially the same, I can break it down to what I would like to talk about...Liberal and Conservative feelings and beliefs. You might find after reading this that you're not so far on the other side as you may have previously thought you were. Let's start with a quote by the late Winston Churchill, not known for his political correctness:

"If you're still younger than 30 and your not a liberal, you have no heart. If you're older than 40 and you're still a liberal, you have no brain."

Harsh as that may seem, and undoubtedly there are quite a few liberties taken with regard to broad strokes of stereotyping, he may be onto something there. It's hard to find someone over the age of 40, a parent of children already come and gone - or soon to - who doesn't lean towards conservatism. Conversely if you're young, vibrant, and still somewhat in that carefree "What, me worry?" mode, you're more than likely inclined to lean to the left. It's natural. A normal part of growing up in a country that allows you to grow up and do whatever you want within the limits of laws and good common sense. So age tends to be one factor that influences which way you lean...as does parenting.

Another difference. Sunday they will play Super Bowl XL in Detroit. XL of course meaning Extra Large, but I digress. A conservative would probably not lay down a $20 bet on the game, preferring to watch without the added burden of possibly being doubly disappointed...once for the loss of the team they wanted to win, twice for the 20 bucks frittered away. Even at a 50/50 chance, a conservative is not inclined to like those odds. A liberal however would have no problem throwing down the $20, because there is an even money chance to win, and that's good enough for him. This concept is not about the $20, but rather the mindset of each person. A conservative likes to hedge his bets, and doesn't like even money or worse. A liberal is willing to take more chances. They both want to win and it's a matter of the degree to which each side would go to achieve the goal. A better example of that very same metaphor would be to speak of a subject with much more serious consequences than 1 autographed Andrew Jackson piece of green paper.

Iraq.

I think we can agree that both sides want to get the men and women home as fast as possible. No one wants any more American service men and women coming back prematurely. A liberal leaning person wants them home now. They are willing to take a chance that if we pull out of Iraq - take 10 steps backward and inhale deeply - the Al Quaeda and it's constituents will back down and never come our way again. Believe me, everyone would like that to be true, and indeed there is always that outside possibility it could happen, but that's where the conservative thinks differently.

Could happen. Could is a very large word. Like every, always, and forever.

Remember the part about a conservative not liking even money or worse? Same thing applies to dealing with terrorists. If we're not 100% sure, we conservatives don't do anything we might regret in the worst way later. So we take our time and attempt to make the correct move at the correct time and place.

With that said, please spare everyone the arguments about the why's and wherefores of the U.S. being in Iraq. We're there already, and yes- we need to come home, but we have to be smart about it. If you want to take up the argument about the President's past decisions, I'm sure there is a weblog somewhere that loves to beat dead horses. In this conversation, we'll stick with the reality of what already has come to pass. Thank you for your understanding.

Ok, Iraq might be a tough one for you to see my point on, so let's try another. You're a mom in her mid to late 20's and you have a beautiful little 5 year old girl who is your pride and joy. You've always prided yourself on your democratic heritage, and you vote your conscience every election. So far, your conscience has led you straight to Al Gore and John Kerry. You just can't in your right mind see yourself voting any other way. You consider yourself an environmentalist of sorts and a supporter of the fair and just. Your little girl is in kindergarten and takes the bus too and from school. You bring her to the stop and pick her up every day. But one day, something goes terribly wrong. Your neighbor from 4 houses down, a seemingly nice young man in his early 20's has a fight with his wife. The next morning they're still at it. The young man goes to work that day, carrying the baggage of the argument along with him. He's distracted and anxious all day, and finally that erupts into the ultimate confrontation with his boss, who shows him the door. It's 1:30 pm and now the guy has a wife that's steamed at him - and no job. He can't go home because he couldn't possibly face her now. He can't rely on his other friends because they're all at work. So he goes to the nearest pub and drowns his sorrows in a few beers. He leaves the bar, gets in his car, and as fate would have it...he pulls up to the school bus drop off point the exact moment our little innocent 5 year old is getting off. Ignoring the flashing red lights and the stop sign extended out from the side of the bus, he barrels right through. You're in your car, and in front of your disbelieving eyes, you see what amounts to your entire world crashing around you.

(Pause for reflection)

In court 5 months later, you sit and listen to the defense attorney go through his litany of reasons why your neighbor was distressed and not thinking with his correct frame of mind. He tells the sad story of the argument with the missus and the firing by the boss. You have two possible thoughts:

• You understand his plight, and you sympathize with the anguish this man must be going through. You hope the justice system does right by this man, because he's as much a victim of the system as you or your child are. If this is the case, you're a true liberal thinker.
• You're sitting there thinking you can't believe the Judge is even allowing the Defense attorney to spew out this nonsense. You're angry and you hope the system doesn't give a damn about this guy. He screwed up and he has to answer for that screw up. If this is the case, you've just jumped over to the conservative side of the house.

Too extreme? Ok. One more - a little softer this time. Your 7 year old first grader comes home and starts telling you in rather graphic but somewhat confused terminology about the night his conception happened at your house. He gets it all mixed up, but from the gist of what he's saying you've just been informed that his first grade teacher decided to have an impromptu class on anatomy and the reproductive process. Your son is asking about both parents' body parts, how they work, and if it's true that's where babies come from.

• If you think it's ok, you're truly a liberated thinker. You have the power of self-control, and you can handle most any situation with grace and aplomb. You decide it's quite alright what happened in the classroom.
• If you think your child is to young and emotionally ill equipped to handle such information, that 1st grade is nether the time nor the place for this type of learning or discussion, and you find yourself either at the school with a dozen or so other parents or on the phone with the Principal, you're probably a conservative.

Okay Mr JL4, so what's your point? By the way, thank you for asking.

I keep hearing how this country is so polarized right now. According to the various media outlets we have at our disposal - both conservative and liberal - we the people of the United States have never been farther apart. I suggest to you that for the most part that's a bunch of hogwash. We're no farther apart in the middle of the spectrum (which is where the vast majority of us are) than we ever have been. I'm a card-carrying conservative who is not only willing to listen to a liberal point of view, I believe and support some of them. And there is many a liberal out there who feels the same way about conservative viewpoints. So maybe...just maybe...intelligent dialog is possible, but it has to come from the everyman...errr...everyperson. The Rush Limbaugh's on the far right are never going to extend an olive branch to the Al Franken's on the extreme left. If they do that, their gig is up. They'll have nothing to whine about any more, which means no one will listen to them. If no one listens, they lose their job. I'm fairly certain they don't want that to happen.

So it's going to have to be us...you, me, and others like us to find a way to communicate and discover that my left leaning neighbor is not as strongly in support of stopping the eavesdropping of terrorists phone calls as he would want me to think, and that if you get to know me you might find that my concern over gay marriage is about the same as whether or not I use the Local or Weather page to clean up after my dog. I just don't have the time or the inclination to care about this right now.

I'm thinking all this means it's darn hard to tell a democrat from a republican when you get right down to it. After all, we still go to sleep at night under a blanket of security provided by the same place, don't we?

Peace.

Speaking of the socially bereft...Spelled b-e-r-e-f-t

Yes, this one is bound to make some people angry...but at least I'll know someone is reading this.

When I say "socially bereft"...yes, I'm talking to you Master and Miss Spelling Bee Champions. I've caught your act the last 3 or 4 years on ESPN2, and I have to say I'm fairly impressed.

I'm also terrified.

Does that "dead-eye stare" and lack of emotion come naturally to you? I know virtually all of you are home schooled (which certainly limits the social interaction pool somewhat), but it was when you were up there at the microphone and they said your interest areas were...16th Century Poetry, Classical Literature, and Interpretation of Mozart that I became concerned.

Exactly who's interest areas are these, anyways? The last time I had a kid come up to me and say, "Hey Mister...what do you think of Torquato Tasso's works of the Mid 1500's?" was ...ummmm...let's see....well - never, actually. Something tells me there is a problem here, and it's spelled p-a-r-e-n-t-s.

I have a teenage son who achieves for the most part straight 'A's in a very demanding public High School Honors curriculum, but I've never caught him staying up late at night reading Fyodor Dostoevsky "The Brothers Karamazov", and I pray every day that won't happen. He never won a spelling bee either. So he is singlehandedly killing two myths with one big stone...brains and spelling don't necessarily go hand in hand, and a child can go to a public school in this country and get a good education.

But back to our spelling champs. You're all within a decade of learning first hand the meaning, root, and etymology of another word: Forlorn.

But there is hope. And a fairly simple solution.

Pick a Saturday...any nice sunny Saturday. Put down the Shakespeare and look around for your mom and dad. When you know they're not watching...sneak outside and find a group of kids your age playing in the neighborhood. Maybe they're kicking or throwing around a ball...or possibly just hanging out and talking...you know, kids stuff. Walk up to them - introduce yourself - and join in. Trust me on this one.

You may feel uncomfortable at first, having no experience to this point with the joy of being young, alive, and without care. But soon the discomfort will pass and you'll begin to experience a fascinating physiological phenomenon known as smiling.

And that's spelled, h-a-p-p-i-n-e-s-s.

Note: The Scripps-Howard National Spelling Bee will be held in Washington, D.C. the final weekend of May, 2006. ESPN2 will broadcast an edited version of the finals shortly thereafter. If you don't believe me, check it out and judge for yourself.

APR Financing (Subtitled - Going to the Movies)

Any one out there been to a movie theater lately? Apparently you have, since the latest results have the average Hollywood production bringing in about $30 million a week.

Last week, I broke down and went to "Munich", the Steven Speilberg story of what the Israeli government did after the tragic events of the 1972 Summer Olympics. I took my teenage son, because I thought it would be good for him to learn about something from over 30 years ago that we are still very much living with the consequences of today. I was impressed with the film, although it's difficult to not be impressed with anything done by Mr Speilberg.

What I wanted to talk about was the beginning. Not the beginning of the film, rather the beginning of my descent towards becoming a statistical part of the national poor. If it wasn't the $8.50 per ticket price that floored me, the purchase of 2 sodas and a large popcorn had my son dialing 9-1-1 on my cell because he was terrified that his dad had just had a cerebral hemorrhage when the clerk said, "That will be 18 dollars and 75 cents, sir." I had no earthly idea the lesson my son was really going to learn stemmed from my rant about how 30 years ago 4 people could go to a movie, gorge themselves on every imaginable kind of junk food, and do it for less than or at least equal to - $10. It's a darn good thing the kid behind the corner called me "sir", because I was beginning to think I had been fleeced.

In between bouts of flinching, facial ticks, and the inability to stop stuttering, I asked the kid what the deal was with charging me in excess of 18 bucks for 33 cents worth of popcorn and a dollar worth of soda. He calmly explained to me that the money spent at the concessions was how the theater kept the electricity turned on and paid it's employees. Evidently the rest of the money goes to George Clooney. Okay, okay...it doesn't really go to Mr. Clooney, but the point is - every time you and I go to some boring, this-one-is-the-same-as-the-other-one film, the rich get richer...and the poor....well, you get the idea.

Meanwhile, these well-to-do Hollywood folks like Sean Penn (Sean, if you're reading this, please don't hunt me down and punch me. I promise I won't take your picture) are flying around the world, bad mouthing the very nation that makes them so stinking rich, while simultaneously asking for even more of our money to support one of their causes. Now I'm not an idiot, and I know the influence of Hollywood can do some extremely good things. The rallying by the Beverly Hills crowd helped raise billions in support of the Tsunami and Katrina victims, and I for one am thankful for that. But those billions came from us, you and I...not them.

You know what would make me even more impressed?

Seeing Woody Harrelson or Susan Sarandon on television writing a rather substantial check from their own account, with a follow on story to show all of us that the check was real and cleared the bank.

Theoretically if that were to happen, the next time I go to a movie I might even buy 2 boxes of popcorn.

Fact

Yes, I know FOX news is anything but "Fair and Balanced". However, I can't honestly say that any of the other news agencies are doing an outstanding job walking the information tight-rope either. If it's true there is no bias in the media, how come we never see these kind of images on the news any more?

News O' the Day

In the Middle East today, Palestinian Fatah supporters had to be separated from Hammas supporters in what has been reported as "An apparent disagreement about whether or not they think original "Survivor" winner Richard Hatch evaded his taxes. "

Ahhhh sir? Yes...you with the loaded M-16. Hasn't anyone ever told you smoking will shorten your life expectancy?

I think I smell burning rubber

Oky doky out there. Let's go over it one...more...time.

• A Green light means "go". With that said, I have bad news for the guy behind me who thinks I have less than 1 nano-second to mash the accelerator to the floor and roar out of there like I'm a member of the National Hot Rod Association and I'm trying to qualify for the finals. You're just gonna have to wait big guy. Green means "you may proceed", and my car doesn't need a toot of your horn to get moving.
• Yellow, besides being the officially licensed color of the United Canary Foundation of America (any unauthorized reproduction or sale without the expressed written consent of of the UCFA and it's subsidiaries is strictly prohibited) means "slooooowwww down". Nope. Sorry. It never - nor will it ever - mean hit the gas as hard as humanly possible and test the consumer products rating of the Toyota Celica in executing a 90 degree turn while hitting close to the land speed record in order to make that light. It means "slow the heck down".
• A Red light means "stop". Not creep...not blast...and it doesn't mean the next 5 cars in line can continue to go through the light because they're tired of waiting. It means "stop".

These aren't my laws, I just happen to know them. If you have a beef with it, take a few moments and fire off an angry e-mail to your Chief of Police and tell him what an idiot he is for making you obey his stupid rules.

Excuse me. Could I use your phone?

The other day I was walking into a grocery store. A man was walking towards me animatedly speaking. I was startled because I had no idea why he was talking to me when I had never met him before. That's when I saw that Star Trek the Next Generation earpiece he was wearing. I have no idea where the microphone was, nor did I stick around long enough to ascertain who he was talking to or what they were talking about. I was too spooked to care.

Please. Someone out there tell me why we as a nation feel compelled to be "plugged in" 24/7. For the life of me, I spend most of my time trying to get away from other humans, not stay in constant contact with them. And what is with people who are talking on their cell phone while being waited on in line at a convenience store or some other public service establishment? Look, unless you're speaking with the Secretary General of the United Nations and you're both trying to hammer out a solution to the nuclear weapons issue in North Korea, put the damn thing down for a second, pay for your creamsicle, and go on about your business out in the parking lot. Just don't walk towards me while you're doing it.

And speaking of being in line at the neighborhood 7-Eleven. Lottery tickets of all types are ok in my book. However, standing there for fully 5 minutes and dictating to the clerk the 37 different ways you'd like to play the daily numbers..."Could I have them boxed, straight, flipped, backward, forward, run it, tip it, 2 dollars, 3 dollars, and of course the always popular reverse-inverted 5 dollar play-3"....while the line of customers merely trying to buy a coffee is getting longer and more agitated by the second...you need to to be told you're just dead wrong. If you want to buy a lottery ticket, fine. If you want to gamble, go to the dog track or hop on a plane to Vegas. In the meantime, get the heck out of my way because you're burning up my lunch hour and my soda is now warm.

Ahhhh. I feel better already.

Before I go any further

Ok, before I go any further...I should mention a thing or two about myself. I'm 480 years old, although I usually don't look a day over 223. I'm married and have 3 children who have become my strength, my inspiration, and ultimately my heroes over the years. My wife is a beautiful brown haired lass a tad bit younger than me, and as far as I can tell she loves me. The biggest problem we have is I'm too busy (or too damned stupid sometimes) to reciprocate that love by simply telling her. But I do the best I can.

I'm sarcastic, caustic, and I've been told I'm sardonic. I have no earthly idea what sardonic means, so I just leave that one alone.

I'm a lousy son-in-law because I could care less what my in-laws are doing, and I would prefer they did the same with me. I'm a lousy host because if there is a good game on in the master bed TV, that's where you'll find me. If you want to talk to me, come on in - but be sure to make your comments brief and restrict them to commercial time. I'm an awful snob, as evidenced by the fact that I'll pay a dollar more for a $3.00 item in Target as opposed to going into WalMart. Sorry, but I don't own a white halter-top and cut off jean shorts that allow my butt cheeks to hang out, so I don't have the right attire for WalMart anyways.

I'm a man who's grown weary of answering for the fact that men have had the upper hand for 5,000 years. I don't know what happened back then, and I had no control over the fact that I too was born with an extra appendage. You want to complain about sexism or racism, go complain to the guys who did it for all those years...It wasn't me that's for sure. In my house we have a lot of rules, but the most important of those involve respect for others - regardless of race or ethnicity - respect for women and their values and beliefs, and respect for authority. After my kids are grown up and moved away, they can act and think any way they like. Hopefully the lessons taught in this household will be continued and passed on later in their life.

I'm a republican who is deeply troubled with the actions of the current administration, and no...that doesn't mean I'm becoming a democrat and I now want to hear your babbling baloney either. It just means I'm conservative by nature and always will be. I don't want to hurt the whales...nor do I want to board a greenpeace boat and sail to the north Atlantic to try and stop some guy from Gloucester, Mass trying to make a living hunting them. No thanks, I'll pass on putting your pro-abortion bumper sticker on my car. As a matter of fact, I'll pass at putting any bumper sticker on my car. I have better things to do with my time...like watch my kids grow up and play sports, while I write things in this blog that no one will ever read. Oh and one more thing. To the person who hangs out in the supermarket parking lots during the week passing out Jehova's Witness pamphlets. Look, I have nothing to say for or against you either...but jeesh dude, you might consider getting a job or something.

Oh...and I absolutely have a life-long love affair with the Boston Red Sox. Remember the snobbery part mentioned above? That applies to anyone coming on here going "go Yankees" or anything imbecile like that as well. I don't like the Yankees or Yankee fans. If that upsets you, get over it.

This is making me tired. Did I mention my kids are my heroes?

Kayne West

Kayne West pronounced Kan-ye Wee-stow, is on this weeks cover of Rolling Stone dressed as Jesus of Nazareth.

Right. What a jerk weed. Kayne...not Jesus of Nazareth

That's all. Have a nice day.

Blogging for Donuts

Several years ago, the Krispy Kreme donuts stock split, and a whole lotta people became millionaires. Coincidentally, around the same time so did my pants.

Split that is. My trousers didn't become rich.

Today a friend of mine told me I should blog, and I guess that's why I'm here...to blog. You'll find when you read my stuff (that would be the 10 loneliest souls in America who have nothing better to do than read some inane crap a total stranger writes), I use the ... 3-dot thing a lot. Why I don't know. Gramatically, I couldn't tell you the first thing about what it means. I guess for me it's just a way of expressing the way I pause for thought or effect. In most cases it will be for effect, because true thought rarely enters my head.

Was I talking about Krispy Kreme's? Gee, I've already had that train of lucidness derailed. In any case, I was pondering the state of my belly about a year ago...mostly to see if there was some sort of county annexation rule whereby they could take part ownership of my dubious spread where I could in turn use that to save money on my taxes, all the while renting out my stomach for church picnics and boy scout adventure hikes to make sure the massive expansion of flesh was used for something productive in society. As it turns out, the county never annexed it and I never got enough interest from non-profit organizations, so I just decided to take the weight off.

Besides, if I didn't stop gaining weight I was going to have to start shopping at WalMart or get a job as a fast food drive-thru clerk.

Goodness. I suddenly have an urge for a jelly-filled.