When I move, you move...Just like that

I don't want to make anyone out there jealous, but I get emails from Barack Obama.  They come addressed right to me and include my first name in the byline.  Sometimes he tells me about his talking points, sometimes his need for money (apparently my $25 helps a LOT).  Today, he told me about the low road that Sen. McCain is taking in an attempt to attack Obama's character and credentials.  McCrazy's campaign is comparing the democratic candidate to such publicity hogs as Britney Spears and Paris Hilton.  I don't remember seeing any gratuitous underwear photos of the Illinois senator, but I could have missed that US Weekly.   As outrageous McStretching-the-truth's claim may be it made me, above all else, hopeful.  I think that the GOP nominee is acting McDesperate. 

This ploy, in conjunction with conservative talk radio's obsession with the Ludacris song that supports Obama while dissing his republican counterparts, indicate a derth of substance.  The House the Rove Built is shuddering with a lack of 5 word sayings that stick and 'define' the Democratic party and it's Prince during this election cycle.  The largest substantive complaint that McCain voices in the offensive commercial refers to Obama's refusal to support off-shore drilling.  For a candidate who needs to win Florida in November, without the privilege of a governor who happens to be his brother and a Secretary of State who happens to be in his pocket, support of offshore drilling is not the key to the state's 27 electoral votes.  

I have no doubt that the GOP will get their act together and come up with a cohesive, definitive  attack on Obama and democrats in general; such political theater is their forte, after all.  But the longer they spend wasting their time, the longer that the donkey's have to make up for the time lost during the elongated primary battle during which McRove enjoyed a national Getting to Know You tour.   

In the least, Ludacris is gaining a lot of play time with his new found 'family-values' friends.

Inside Voice Emerges...and it's not grammatically correct.

A funny thing happened while I was walking my neighbor's dog this morning. To clarify, I am house sitting for a close family friend and their massive golden retriever, whom I will refer to as D-Money- it should become clear in a bit why. D-money and I were on a rather brisk walk through a shady neighborhood not far from our own this morning when another dog started barking like the two of we walkers were on the attack. D barely glanced at her aggressor and with a slight raise of the head, indicated that she could care less about this barker who would, eventually, be limited by the invisible fence that seem to be ubiquitous in the lawns of my Seaside Community. I have always thought that dogs must have a non-verbal means of communicating, and that the dog that is on a walk is always 'cooler' than dogs that are house/yard bound. Apparently, I felt compelled to express this view to D-money when I said, "Yeah, D. You show that playa hata what's up."

Now, it should be noted that those words have never come out of my mouth for any context. And the fact that they came out at a moment to express my long found theory of mine with regard to canine communication indicates that they were genuine. Thus, I must conclude that either a. D-money is an 'urban golden retriever' at heart and I was channeling her vibe (hence the name) or b. I am a complete loser who spent too much time in an inner-city classrooms with MTV cribs emulating 8th graders.

Aaron Sorkin is a God...I am but a devotee

Instructions to arrive at the location of my job interview tomorrow are: 'the room is at the end of the hallway in the West Wing.'  I feel that my devotion to all things President Josiah Bartlet, an endless crush on Charlie Young and a massive desire to BE Amy Gardner (don't even get me started on my feelings toward LEO) will pull through for me tomorrow as I channel the spirit of the best television show of my time.  

Job interviews are always interesting.  I am sitting here in a vain attempt to predict the questions that may be posed of me tomorrow by the three individuals whom I am slated to chat.  I seriously doubt that 'stuff your face' with goat-cheese and veggie pizza the night before is an advised practice, so I am already one critical step behind the ball.  (But mmmmmmm was it good.)  Perhaps I should just prop a boom box on my shoulder with the West Wing Theme song playing on repeat...OHHH that drum roll. 

I just spent the past 1/2 hour that I was supposed to be prepping on YouTube watching West Wing clips.  I feel that I am ready.

99!

Among the many things that I've learned from my paternal grandparents through the years is that a dog doesn't like it if you watch him eat.  "Really?" I queried.  "Well, you wouldn't like it if someone was watching you eat either." So true.    

Today, over lunch with my beloved Papa, I learned another tid bit that I intend to carry with me throughout life.  We were discussing his interaction with a young politician who was seeking advice for longevity and success in public life.  My grandfather, a seasoned politician, offered this simple token of sagacity:  "Don't lie to your constituents.  Never do anything that will make you feel like you have to cross the street to avoid someone.  You will have your conflicts, but be straight and keep it on the issue level and never, ever lie."

If only our federal forum of politicos would be willing to follow such advice.  Perhaps we would not have the need for ridiculous claims of 527's saying what the candidate can't/won't say on his or her own.  Perhaps we would be able to call our negotiations with Iran what they are (negotiations) and refer to our amended stance on Iraq as a time line, rather than a TOTALLY different 'time horizon'.  But, alas, we have an administration that would rather cross the road and avoid responsibility for their actions.  We have a president that doesn't allow dissent, and smirks his way through anything but fawning sycophants with flags precisely pinned on lapels.  

Today marks the 99th day before #43 officially becomes a lame duck.  And while I question my ability to weather the storm of republican attacks and weak democratic response, I CAN NOT WAIT for the lying, street crossers to go back to Texas and Wyoming.

Warrior

I got sucker punched by a yogi today.  Innocuously, I wandered into the aerobics room-actively sweating from my workout on the crazy moving stairs- and was assaulted by a older woman with matching long braids on both sides of her joker-like smile.  "Are you here for yoga?," she asked in the voice of a kindergarten teacher, at the same time welcoming and condescending.  Obliged, I answered, "um, sure, I mean maybe." She immediately asked for my name, wrote it down and then set up my place for me as if to call my bluff and eliminate any indecision that remained.  I felt like any of the many kids I've seen on various sitcoms who were kind of asked to a dance then all of a sudden find themselves in taffeta and a huge carnation pinned to one of their puffy sleeves.  I was guilted into 1.5 hours of deep-breathed serenity. 

 I sprinted to the bathroom and spent the waning moments until class assuring myself that I had the stamina to last the entire class and my clothes, clearly geared towards hard-core cardio, were not going to provide a zen peep show to the guy whose mat was stationed roughly 3" from my own.  About 1/2 way through, while those around me were transcending to a higher place, I began to develop a deep resentment for the teacher, the calming music and the entire continent of Asia. 

  

I managed to sneak out with looser muscles and most of my sanity intact.  I have made a strong mental note of the time and location so as to avoid such a situation in the future. 

** It should be noted that the picture above was pulled from a website noting intermediate yoga moves.  One must wonder about the advanced moves.  My guess is that guy actually removes one of his legs and then go-go gadgets it to India.  **

 

Blame the Press

I grew up in a household run by a borderline personality; a treacherous psychological disorder that is characterized, among other attributes, by the ability to 'split' issues into pure black or white.  The damage that such a disorder can expound upon a family is infinite, which is why it concerns me that I see borderline symptoms in the McCain campaign, with the candidate at the polarizing helm.  Implying that Obama was incompetent for his derth of recent visits to the middle east and then accusing the candidate of taking an intercontinental vacation when he called McBorderline's bluff is but one example of recent ploys to solicit sympathy for the victimized position from which he perceives himself.  (Self-victimization, it should be noted, is another strong characteristic of the borderline disorder.  'Tis better to blame others than be self-reflective and pragmatic in action.)

McCain's campaign staffers have begun referring to Obama as "The One", in a sarcastic attempt to cut the cool kid down to size.  They wear fake French press passes, implying that they are left to care about America while his democratic counterpart is cavorting in the scenic pressrooms and playing fields of Afghanistan, Jordan and Iraq.  Nothing says mindless vacation time like the Tigris and Euphrates...cerca BC 600 when the hanging gardens of Babylon were abundant and fruit-filled.  Today, McCrazy is desperately wants to discredit Obama's efforts-which he should, because he wants to win-but the way in which he loudly executed his dismissal of the rock tour occurring in Europe is, quite simply, obvious and desperate.  

McWhiner is trying to create black and white issues out of the greyest of issues.   Earlier this week the headline feature on johnmccain.com was not addressing one of the many issues that face our nation but a competition between two 4 minute videos that feature well-known love songs and selected, completely-out-of-context quotes by the media expressing LOVE for Obama- either their own or their viewers.  The subtext if you support Obama it is because you're a puppet of the looming Geppetto called the press.  McCain is a victim to the press' enamored relationship with the charismatic senator.  The guy who was perpetually the cool kid- a 3rd generation political darling with bad grades but a lot of fun stories about pranks he used to pull prior to the War- is not used to being overshadowed; he resents Obama's rock-star status and is trying to polarize in an attempt to frame the new kid on the block as a phony.  

The problem is, McOld's tactics are not working.  He is too obvious, too exclusive to those who don't completely agree with him AND actively disrepute his younger, cooler opponent.  And if I've learned anything about such personality characteristics, pride doesn't allow any room for retreat.  We've learned from our current commander in chief that pride, indeed, commeth before the fall.  I just wonder if the fall is going to happen pre or post November 4.  

Don't Panic! Your TV is fine

The intense attention given to the impending February 2009 shift to purely digital television broadcasting from a digital/analog mix has reiterated two major truths, as I know them: education campaigns work and telecommunication communities have way too much money and are terrified of losing even one of their expanding viewer populations.  The telecom industry has invested ample funds and ad space to assure all demographics (we have the house-mom, the little leaguer and the active elder) that they will not have to miss a single moment of the Real Housewives of Orange County or a second of Jamie-Lynn's Disney Sponsored pregnancy play out on their ever expanding plasma screens.  

The information campaign serves as an excellent prototype of the possibilities inherent in such campaigns that could carry (arguably) greater benefits to Americans- the Truth campaign regarding tobacco is another great example.  I would love to live in a nation that tolerated information campaigns regarding the Islam Religion vs. Islamist Extremism, clearly defined and t-charted Main Street dangers of our reliance on fossil fuels, or plain spoken reassurance regarding the need for women health issues to be considered human health-not open invitations for accelerated promiscuity.  

Unfortunately, the money is not behind such messages.  The sustenance of the status-quo keeps the wealth concentrated and the unquestioning masses glued to their huge, digitally broadcasting televisions.

Of Rockstars and Sisters

I have the privilege of being the older sister to a Phenomenal 13-year-old, MJ. She is one of the more eloquent and grounded people I know, of any age, but there are a few occasions each day that remind me of her 'tween status. Among these moments my favorite can be best classified in the 'performance' genre. Such shows consist of a broom(or hair brush), wildly thrashing blond hair, a mirror and a Miley Cyrus song. In her mind, MJ is transformed to world of rock star-dom beyond measure. I have to admit that I am thrilled that the Spears sisters have been replaced by more suitable 'tween pop culture royalty, all Vanity Fair faux pas aside. The unfortunate result,however, is that I am well versed on the seven things that Miley hates about You.

One of the funnier conversations MJ and I have had regarding music had to do with her 'old school' favorites. These songs were popular when I was in middle school and continue to reign supreme, out lasting the test of time. Such classics include: Always be my Baby (Mariah Carey), I Will Always Love You (which I was informed last week that, gasp, the Whitney Houston version is WAY better than the Dolly Parton...duh), and 2 Princes (Spin Doctors). Yet there is one 'new' song that she and I strongly disagree upon. The conversation in which discovered our irreparable division went along the lines of this:

MJ: Have you heard the remix to Aerosmith's "Walk This Way"?

Blogger: Obviously. It pretty much changed Rap.

MJ: It's terrible. Totally ruined the song

Blogger: WOW. I couldn't disagree more. I mean have you actually LISTENED to it?

MJ: Yes. I hate it.

Blogger: But you love terrible bands- these two groups are GROUNDBREAKING.

MJ (inside voice): My sister is OLD.

Blogger (inside voice): I am OLD...but I do still love Chris Brown...oh wait, does that make me a cougar?

Update on Nothingness

I've only 6 blog posts, yet today is the 17th day of the month.  Clearly I've been choosing both Chocolate and Running over my dedication to blogging.  I am hoping the running (and in kind activities) can counter the excess, birthday-induced chocolate calories.   

The big day was primarily spent in the City, on an informational interview with a couple of Fantastic Woman at an Organization for which I would love to work.  Thus, my introduction into my late 20s felt Productive- a feeling that, frankly, has been sparse in my post-grad  school existence.  Thus, birthday crisis averted.  

At the moment, I am fresh out of blogging inspiration.  If any of my Readers has a great idea for a topic, let me know.  Otherwise, I shall spend the day job-surfing, in dread of the impending heat wave and in anxious anticipation of my Younger Sister's arrival from The North.

***The picture, clearly, has nothing to do with anything aside from the fact that I am convinced that Bush 'entertains' other world leaders with low brow jokes and "Oh, what's that behind your ear?!" tricks.  What a great inspiration for young Americans everywhere.***

Stay out of our 'households' you fake conservative.

And just when I start to soften and like him for his 'centrist points of view on the environment and immigration', I am reminded why I really REALLY hope he doesn't become president.  

 "Mr. McCain, who with his wife Cindy has an adopted daughter, said flatly that he opposed allowing gay couples to adopt. 'I think that we've proven that both parents are important to the success of a family so, no, I don't believe in gay adoption,' he said.

Two loving parents, regardless of sexual orientation is the best way to set up a kid for success.   UGH.

Federalism and Frustrations

I spent the majority of today captivated by the National Governor's Association centennial meeting, broadcast on CSPAN.  Along with permanently disqualifying my application into the cool kids club, I found myself trying to converse with the state executives who were comfortably seated in the Kimmel Center in Philadelphia.  The lively discussion in the morning session (because YES I watched both Morning and Afternoon sessions, as well as, the keynote speech by President Clinton) centered upon federalism and the rights and roles of states in the 'laboratory of leadership'.  

Naturally, the governors were quick to express their frustration at the lack of support for states rights by the Bush administration and the lassitude of Congress; a politician's best defense is offense.   Yet, the sense of urgency among the group was palpable.  The leaders, both past and present, know that states need to be drivers in the policies and practices set in place to have in the major issues of today (most notably energy, education and health care); disdain for the federal imposition and vagueness inherent in NCLB was abundant.  It is clear that issues pertaining to national defense are best handled by the federal government- and it's not difficult to argue that a coherent and fluid energy policy is a matter of national defense.  Yet, it is less difficult to standardize best practices and marketize procedures for a systems/product based issue than one that deals in people, such as health care and education.  Both human issues are also matters of national defense; defense of our culture, our economy, our innovative abilities, our hearts (literally and figuratively).  The natural struggle that results is a tension between the federal government's obligation as public steward to protect the national defense, the states' desire to direct and control the lives of their youth, the cultural restrictions and expectations of each individual community and, perhaps most important but least easy to address, the necessity of familial engagement in each educational/health care choice made.   In other words, it is a Hot Mess.  

The governors all want to do the right thing, they really do.  Yet the complexity of the issues and the partisan pressures to turn them into a black/white issue leads to a lot of well-meaning leaders seeking a blanket solution.  And in this quest to solve the problems becomes circular; the kids and the sick continually get left behind.   

Open Letter to the Guy at the Front Desk of My Gym

In case you're wondering, Mr. Gym Attendant, I'm that sweaty girl. You know, the one that your unfortunate eyes occasionally settle upon; to whom you respond with a half-shocked/half-amused look in wonder of the pituitary gland. You ease into your climate controlled atmosphere- set at a perfect temperature for your stationary position in your standard outfit of tapered wind pants and t-shirt celebrating some Boston sports team and/or mid-nineties high school football victory- while I attempt to crank out 30 drenched minutes on the elliptical.

I guess I should probably thank you for the extra loss of water weight during my workout. As you gaze at lululemon geared women, my grey t-shirt becomes darker and darker. To counter your steady irreverence for those working out in your facility, gym-bo, I find my way into the aerobics room, at an off-class time, to stand directly in front of a wind-tunnel fan and fruitlessly attempt to reduce my inner body temperature by 1 to 2 degrees. Yet you never fail to amaze me with the lengths you will go to stay comfortable in my (and, I should say, MANY other) super-sweaty midst.

I admire your chutzpah, your unwavering stamina to look sweaty folk in the eye and say, "I can bear your excessive perspiration for my own comfort."

Not so Lame Duck

A recent conversation with my grandfather (who is the MAN and is another topic for a different blog post) prompted me to think more deeply about what an Obama presidency would bring, especially with regard to the executive department's relationship with the intelligence and defense community. Apparently, the Kennedys were set up to fail by the exiting Eisenhower administration- the Bay of Pigs had been in the works for months prior to January 1961 and the outgoing administration (and it's defense/intelligence community) had a very different idea of how that would unfold. Essentially, they wanted Cuba to be our bitch and the Kennedys were not ready to take on the global communist powers. The result, as history noted, was scary and tenuous; we came very close to ruining the progress made since the end of WWII.

I couldn't help but recall this conversation as I was watching Hardball last night. Estranged Congressman Tom Delay was a guest on the occasionally enlightening, often obnoxious daily political forum. I approach Mr. Delay with a bit of reproach: he is clearly crazy and bitter. He seems, however, to leap completely over the self-reflection component of his congressional demise and fully believe that the democrats are to blame for his fraudulent behavior and excessive hubris. Yet, he has his finger firmly on the pulse of the NeoCon community so I grit my teeth and hope to gain insight into the collective mind of Those That I Do Not Understand. It should be noted that Delay rated President Bush (43) as a 6 of 7 out of ten, an 8 if this Iraq "situation" pans out the way that he thinks it will.

Apparently, other situations are on the mind of the administration. Such alluded to by Delay before he realized he was speaking off-talking points. Tommy started to wax poetic about our ability to handle the mounting Israel "situation" and preemptively impose tougher regulations and threats to show who's boss in the Iran "situation". Matthews, in classic form- sensing an opportunity to become the headline, interrupted Delay and gave him enough time to realize that Matthews encapsulation of the GOP-master mind's spiel was both accurate and politically inopportune. Essentially, as was to be inferred by Matthews' oversimplification and Delay's quick retreat: the Bush administration may have to take action on 'situations' that they don't think will be addressed in kind by incumbent administrations. In other words, we do what we want.

GAGH!

It is entirely possible that November and December of this year could bring more global unrest than we can imagine. The administration and its NeoCon cheerleaders have not absorbed the reality that nothing in the middle east (or anywhere else where people, not simply t-charts, are involved) is simple and easy. Greater interference within nation states- or, even scarier, non-sovereign entities, will significantly disadvantage the incumbent president- placing him in a bad, Bad, BAD! position for both immediate and long-term relations with the unstable region. And just as the Bay of Pigs could have resulted in the demise of the Kennedy presidency and, well, democracy, the Bay of Bush could seriously hinder any desperately needed measure to repair global relations. Or maybe that is what they want; if we can't get to level 8, then the next guy shouldn't either. After all, we do what we want.

Am I wicked old? Or wicked young?

In less than a week I will mark yet another end/beginning of a year in my life: my birthday. Although I have ruled out 'tennis star' and 'POTUS' as possible career choices, it is slightly humbling that 'by my age' Venus Williams has won 5 (!) Wimbledon championships and Barack Obama** had already organized the crap out of Chicago's south side. And by humbling, I mean renders my current state of ample sleep, no work and reheated coffee as pathetic. I try to approach my b-day with ambivalence and a bit of humor, yet I awoke today with a slight feeling of panic regarding the upcoming events.

I have already secured my favorite Local Friend for wine drinking and youth reassurance, but I find myself frustrated at the lack of importance of my life at the moment. I want a platform to tell John McCain to stop 'joking' about killing Iranians or a place to discuss the seeming lack of outrage regarding the spectacular attempts at destruction of Michelle Obama's reputation by the republicans as it compares to the hype surrounding the 'misogyny that was the reason behind HRC's loss'. My reality, however, is that of a woman on the cusp of her late twenties with a big plan of returning a book to a neighbor and going to the post office today.

** I, in no way, am implying that Obama is the presumptive nominee for POTUS. I am a Boston sports fan. I am well aware of the curse that accompanies even the slightest feeling of inevitability.**

*** I hope that one of my Favorite People and Dedicated Readers with whom I had a discussion regarding the liberal and unnecessary usage of 'quotes/unquotes' this week will excuse my exploitation of the literary device in the above passage***

Date my Computer

Between my ongoing job search and my pathetic attachment to Facebook, I am pretty much in a deep, enduring relationship with my computer. A few weeks ago, we had a bad break up- the hard drive crashed. He took all my music, all my intellectual assets (my grad school papers) and, kind of bizarrely, many pictures of my sisters captured by the headlight-esque camera atop the screen.

Quickly thereafter, we got back together. Out of penance, it came back to me in a faster version with better memory- yet it kept my purloined items, and left me floundering for any semblance of my life as I knew it for the past few years. I appreciate all that the computer has done for me- yet I am reluctant to undergo the work necessary to rebuild our previous relationship. I am beyond the work necessary to regain my (previously extensive) music collection, search my email for final versions of papers or update any one of the many 'cool' programs that accompanies an apple purchase (the calendar), guitar composition pieces etc.

I think I'm in need for a more stable relationship.