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Showing posts from March, 2008

Asparagus with a side of horsehide

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There are three things that say "spring" to me: fresh asparagus, baseball's opening day, and the sound of wind machines running in the vineyards. And getting in nine holes after work. Ok, that's four things that say "spring" to me. Actually, big fat robins out in the yard, that says "spring" too, so let's say there are five things. Or more. Who's counting? The point is, springtime is here, the asparagus is jumping and the robins are high - the baseball players are rich, and their girlfriends are good looking. So excuse me if I rise up singing, ok? Of course, it is a little bittersweet this baseball season's start. The Giants opened their season today by getting skunked by the hated Dodgers (who are now coached by Joe Torre, who is a guy I've always liked, so I'm stuck liking a guy wearing a Dodger uniform, which is -- uncomfortable, let's say.) Some people are saying the Giants just need to have a realistic goal for these

Fool me once, shame on you...

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This just in: turns out that not only did Hilary Clinton not "land under sniper fire" in Bosnia in 1996, but contrary to her suggestions, she also did NOT lead a platoon onshore at Omaha Beach - did NOT rally the troops and turn the tide at Pork Chop Hill - did NOT shoot down seven MIGs during black ops in southeast Asia. Has she ever got some explaining to do. There's nothing more mortifying that getting caught in a lie. Bad enough when it's something like calling in sick, then running into your boss at lunch, or turning down a party invitation only to have your friends find out you went to somebody else's party instead of visiting your grandma at the nursing home like you said you would. But imagine how it feels to get exposed telling a big whopper to the whole world? As a politician, of course, you never admit that you exaggerated, embellished, or just plain made something up - the worst you have done is to have "misspoken" or perhaps to have "

Give this a listen

I'm not the kind of guy who gets all bandwagon-y, but I have to admit I may be coming down with Obamania. Yesterday I turned on the radio as I was getting ready to shave, and Obama was making his major speech on race. We all know the man is a great speechmaker, but within a minute or two, I was transfixed not just by his technique but by his words. In my 30+ years of paying attention to politics, I have never heard a candidate tell it like it is the way this guy does. Most amazingly, even though some pundits want to say this controversy will sink BO's campaign, he refuses to throw the sometimes-angry Rev. Wright under the bus. How many politicians have you experienced who would stand up and deal with these issues head on? How can a guy expect to get elected when he's running around being so straightforward? Some commentators say the Rev. Wright issues and this speech to address it will unify the conservative base against Obama. So what? Did somebody think BO was going to g

The ultimate buzzkill

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I think I will skip over the entire Spitzer scandal (since you can get your fill of that just about anywhere today) except to say that no matter what some people want to tell you, irony is never out of fashion. And I will also say I have an inverse proportion of not-sadness for him offset with sadness for this 22 year old girl who will now always be known as a high-priced call girl. Drudge today has a link to her MySpace page, which presents her as a singer, and thesmokinggun.com has a passel of photos, and it all adds up to a story that probably plays out thousands of times a year all over the world - pretty young thing wants to be a star, tries to make it in the big city, doesn't have the talent or doesn't want to pay the dues, and ends up selling her body. It's really all too sad and tawdry. So instead, let's talk about the end of the world as we know it. I have been immersed in the end of the world in the last week. During a spectacularly enjoyable 3-day vacation

In the end, it's the dog year of the beard

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You know how one year for a human is the same as seven years for a dog? So that makes a dog year about seven and half human weeks. Turns out the Year of the Beard was a Dog Year of the Beard, and that puppy is all gone. I was continually amazed by the level of interest people showed in the beard, wanting me to stand there in front of them while they took it all in and pronounced whether they liked it or not, or made some comment about how it's "coming in well." As if I was producing some kind of object of art. It's just hair, people. For my part, I knew it had to go when it reached the stage where all the time I was saving not shaving had become time I was spending trimming. That, and the fact that it just starts to feel nasty after awhile. Here's the payoff. There was general agreement that the beard made me look a lot older. No argument from me. Last night I stopped at Whole Foods after work, and my basket included a couple of bottles of wine. At the checkout th