Strange Bedfellows, Indeed

This has been some election season! As the pack descended on Gov. Palin, some pounced because that is what they do: scavenge the underside of people's lives- their families, their peccadillo's, and their schoolyard infractions- ever looking for the sensational. Others had a more ideological bone to chew. Some of the most vitriolic and contemptuous pieces emanated from feminists themselves. I suppose I should not have expected any different. After all, did we hear one feminist voice denounce a middle aged executive who took up with an young female intern? But that's history.

The irony here, though, is dramatic. A number of high-powered, career women found themselves in the position of decrying Gov. Palin's potential neglect of her family. Whited Sepulchre, anyone? Sally Quinn- to be fair- has decided that she might have reacted too rashly in her column and had the integrity to go on O'Reilly to own up to it. But how do you explain the email to Working Mother magazine running 2 to 1 that Palin should have put her family first? After all, these are working mothers. Exactly. They know you cannot have it all. Someone always pays the freight.

On the other side, we have the likes of Pat Buchanan praising the wouldbe Veep and manning the barricades for women's rights. The exchange between Chris Matthews and Buchanan the other day was hilarious. Matthews, whose program I was watching, resorting to the expedient of turning the channel every time Olbermann's face appeared, because when not overcome by liberal fumes Matthews is the best political maven, finally could not keep a straight face.

Who knows? If this keeps up, we may yet see David Duke standing up for Civil Rights. Naw, that would be too much. Still....

They Just Don't Get It

This election cycle has given us glimpses of how those in our ruling elites really feel about the "little people." Apparently in their rarefied circles, they have not only forgotten homely values, but find them quaint, humorous.

"You go into these small towns in Pennsylvania and, like a lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25 years and nothing's replaced them...And they fell through the Clinton administration, and the Bush administration, and each successive administration has said that somehow these communities are gonna regenerate and they have not. And it's not surprising then they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations."

First there was the implied superiority apparent in these rather injudicious comments on Obama's part, which at least were uttered with some expectation of privacy. But the reaction to the Palin nomination on the part of the Doyennes of the Liberal Media is not only cynical itself, but vitriolic.

Try this from Sally Quinn for cynicism:

McCain claims he knew about the pregnancy, and was not at all concerned. Why not? Not only do we have a woman with five children, including an infant with special needs, but a woman whose 17-year-old child will need her even more in the coming months. Not to mention the grandchild. This would inevitably be an enormous distraction for a new vice president (or president) in a time of global turmoil. Not only in terms of her job, but from a media standpoint as well.

Holy double standard, Batman! If such is the case, JFK's ailments, drug use, philandering and loss of a child would have precluded his candidacy. I suppose running for office should be limited to men and post menopausal liberal women. I had to read it twice to make sure it wasn't irony.

But even Quinn's blogpost pales in comparison to the Dowd column, which demonstrates all the cattiness which, I confess, the female of the species is sometimes heir to, and which should never, ever, be demonstrated in a national news venue. Imagine if a male pundit of any persuasion had written the following:

The movie ends with the former beauty queen shaking out her pinned-up hair, taking off her glasses, slipping on ruby red peep-toe platform heels that reveal a pink French-style pedicure, and facing down Vladimir Putin in an island in the Bering Strait. Putting away her breast pump, she points her rifle and informs him frostily that she has some expertise in Russia because it's close to Alaska. "Back off, Commie dude," she says. "I'm a much better shot than Cheney"...

..."The PTA is great preparation for dealing with the KGB," President Palin murmurs to Todd, as they kiss in the final scene while she changes Trig's diaper. "Now that Georgia's safe, how 'bout I cook you up some caribou hot dogs and moose stew for dinner, babe?"

It never occurs to them that there could be legitimate values other than their own, because as Bernie Goldberg has pointed out, they only socialize with their own. Consequently, like Obama, they have a tin ear when it comes to real people and the values they hold dear. You know, things like family, religion, guns, stew.

Updated: The Experience Question: A Response

Here's a head to head matchup between Palin and Obama which I came across through the Bookworm Room. It's a definite must read.

Update: The comparison page has been changed, alas, alack. I can't find it, so here another comparison for you.

Please Don't Drink the Kool Aid

Received the following from a member of the other side of the family, the non Cuban, slightly socialist branch. This person knows very well my political proclivities, so I can only speculate that he was so moved by this missive that he felt I would surely agree. I confess that I was stunned that his spouse is a Moveon member.

Dear MoveOn member, Yesterday was John McCain's 72nd birthday. If elected, he'd be the oldest president ever inaugurated. And after months of slamming Barack Obama for "inexperience," here's who John McCain has chosen to be one heartbeat away from the presidency: a right-wing religious conservative with no foreign policy experience, who until recently was mayor of a town of 9,000 people.
Huh?

Who is Sarah Palin? Here's some basic background:

She was elected Alaska's governor a little over a year and a half ago. Her previous office was mayor of Wasilla, a small town outside Anchorage. She has no foreign policy experience.1

Palin is strongly anti-choice, opposing abortion even in the case of rape or incest.2

She supported right-wing extremist Pat Buchanan for president in 2000. 3

Palin thinks creationism should be taught in public schools.4

She's doesn't think humans are the cause of climate change.5

She's solidly in line with John McCain's "Big Oil first" energy policy. She's pushed hard for more oil drilling and says renewables won't be ready for years. She also sued the Bush administration for listing polar bears as an endangered species—she was worried it would interfere with more oil drilling in Alaska.6

How closely did John McCain vet this choice? He met Sarah Palin once at a meeting. They spoke a second time, last Sunday, when he called her about being vice-president. Then he offered her the position.7

This is information the American people need to see. Please take a moment to forward this email to your friends and family.We also asked Alaska MoveOn members what the rest of us should know about their governor. The response was striking. Here's a sample:

She is really just a mayor from a small town outside Anchorage who has been a governor for only 1.5 years, and has ZERO national and international experience. I shudder to think that she could be the person taking that 3AM call on the White House hotline, and the one who could potentially be charged with leading the US in the volatile international scene that exists today. —Rose M., Fairbanks, AK

She is VERY, VERY conservative, and far from perfect. She's a hunter and fisherwoman, but votes against the environment again and again. She ran on ethics reform, but is currently under investigation for several charges involving hiring and firing of state officials. She has NO experience beyond Alaska. —Christine B., Denali Park, AK

As an Alaskan and a feminist, I am beyond words at this announcement. Palin is not a feminist, and she is not the reformer she claims to be. —Karen L., Anchorage, AK

Alaskans, collectively, are just as stunned as the rest of the nation. She is doing well running our State, but is totally inexperienced on the national level, and very much unequipped to run the nation, if it came to that. She is as far right as one can get, which has already been communicated on the news. In our office of thirty employees (dems, republicans, and nonpartisans), not one person feels she is ready for the V.P. position.—Sherry C., Anchorage, AK

She's vehemently anti-choice and doesn't care about protecting our natural resources, even though she has worked as a fisherman. McCain chose her to pick up the Hillary voters, but Palin is no Hillary. —Marina L., Juneau, AK

I think she's far too inexperienced to be in this position. I'm all for a woman in the White House, but not one who hasn't done anything to deserve it. There are far many other women who have worked their way up and have much more experience that would have been better choices. This is a patronizing decision on John McCain's part- and insulting to females everywhere that he would assume he'll get our vote by putting "A Woman" in that position.—Jennifer M., Anchorage, AK

So Governor Palin is a staunch anti-choice religious conservative. She's a global warming denier who shares John McCain's commitment to Big Oil. And she's dramatically inexperienced.In picking Sarah Palin, John McCain has made the religious right very happy. And he's made a very dangerous decision for our country.In the next few days, many Americans will be wondering what McCain's vice-presidential choice means. Please pass this information along to your friends and family.

So let me see if I've got this right? Because she is pro-life, pro-drilling, a onetime supporter of Pat Buchanan and only met McCain once, she is "dangerous."? My response in the next post.

Vile, Viler, Vilest

The first is the word Mary Matalin used to characterize the apparent blog brouhaha over Sarah Palin's daughter. I would extend the term to cover the major media outlets that picked up the story. Ms. Palin's 17 year old daughter is not running for any office, to trot out her teen pregnancy and impending marriage in the guise of clarifying rumor is despicable. As for those who started the original rumors that Palin's baby was really her grandson, truly despicable.

A Sunday Hobbyhorse Ride

International Politics. Using the reputed fate-a labor camp- of the two elderly wouldbe protesters, here is another installment in the Olympics condoned the militaristic, totalitarian rule of the Chinese State vein.

Social Criticism. In this one Kathryn Jean Lopez highlights the litany of personal tragedies that comprised so much of the oratory in Denver. Her point: how about self-reliance? Oh, and if you don't have any bootstraps, you just yank on the boot, duh.

Books. Joe Eszterhas of Basic Instinct fame has penned a religious tome. After a cancer diagnosis, he underwent a religious experience which changed his life. I always wonder about these experiences, since they never happen to me. Read all about it here. Also in the book department, our Sarasota Herald Tribune carried a review of Mel Martinez's new book, A Sense of Belonging. Alas, it's not online.

Popular Culture. Next, in the how shallow can we get? department is this slide show from the Today Show which accompanied an article about how ugly is the new beautiful. Sorry, but they don't seem so ugly to me. Ever take a gander at the mugs on some of those high fashion models?

Weather. For a good part of today, I was a bit worried that the storm was going to head our way. That's how ominous our weather was. We've had more wind from this one than from others in the past that were much closer. My thoughts are with those directly in its sights. God bless.

Gorki and the Convergence of Forces

The Good News is that Gorki has been released, after being charged not with "dangerousness" but with "disobedience," and fined 600 pesos. By my calculations, that's still a substantial amount for a Cuban. I couldn't write that he's been freed, because as someone* pointed out having been born and raised in Cuba, Gorki has never been "free" in his whole life. Think about that.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the whole episode is the coming together of a number of disparate voices in his defense. His band mates, his associates and friends outside the country put out the word. The news was picked up by bloggers, the Mainstream Media (Yup), the international press, Amnesty International. There was a concert/vigil for Gorki held opposite the interests section with well-known blogger Yoani Sanchez in attendance. Narrowly missing a beating, she managed to get the word out. Contacted by media, Hector Elizardo also took up the cause. This is but a brief summary of what went on. I am sure that there was more in the fusion of action and technology.

That said. If past history is indicative of anything, it is that world opinion will only go so far. If the government truly felt threatened, they might well ignore international outcry. Let's not forget the Black Spring round up which led to all sorts of consequences for Cuba. Yet there is another possibility here. Could it be that given the present conditions, the disappointed hopes, further privations looming, the "government" fears that any incident could set the tinderbox aflame? Food for thought.

*It was Gusano in a pair of moving posts.

Literary Interlude: Women and Politics

CNN's John Roberts committed the faux pas of suggesting that Palin might neglect her child. Something about the ensuing brouhaha reminded me of Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Here's an excerpt from her address to a congressional committee in 1892. The whole text here. The more things change; the more they stay the same.

Mr. Chairman and gentlemen of the committee: We have been speaking before Committees of the Judiciary for the last twenty years, and we have gone over all the arguments in favor of a sixteenth amendment which are familiar to all you gentlemen; therefore, it will not be necessary that I should repeat them again.

The point I wish plainly to bring before you on this occasion is the individuality of each human soul; our Protestant idea, the right of individual conscience and judgment-our republican idea, individual citizenship. In discussing the rights of woman, we are to consider, first, what belongs to her as an individual, in a world of her own, the arbiter of her own destiny, an imaginary Robinson Crusoe with her woman Friday on a solitary island. Her rights under such circumstances are to use all her faculties for her own safety and happiness.

Secondly, if we consider her as a citizen, as a member of a great nation, she must have the same rights as all other members, according to the fundamental principles of our Government.

Thirdly, viewed as a woman, an equal factor in civilization, her rights and duties are still the same-individual happiness and development.

Fourthly, it is only the incidental relations of life, such as mother, wife, sister, daughter, that may involve some special duties and training. In the usual discussion in regard to woman's sphere, such as men as Herbert Spencer, Frederic Harrison, and Grant Allen uniformly subordinate her rights and duties as an individual, as a citizen, as a woman, to the necessities of these incidental relations, some of which a large class of woman may never assume. In discussing the sphere of man we do not decide his rights as an individual, as a citizen, as a man by his duties as a father, a husband, a brother, or a son, relations some of which he may never fill. Moreover he would be better fitted for these very relations and whatever special work he might choose to do to earn his bread by the complete development of all his faculties as an individual.

The Palin Pick: So When do we Start Burning Our Bras?

"Did you hear? Good news. McCain has picked a woman, Sarah Palin, the Governor of Alaska." The speaker was a dyed in the wool Bush hater and Obama supporter.

"I'm not so sure, it's good news," I replied. And I wasn't. I confess that my first thought was "a neophyte one heartbeat away from the presidency?"

Then, I started learning about Sarah Palin. What I learned lifted my spirits. Here was a gracious, yet no nonsense broad. Originally, I had suspected McCain of pandering to women, but by the time I finished the short course, Palin's gender was just an added bonus. Here is a ticket with two mavericks. You can see how her reformist stance, her willingness to take on the oil companies, as well as the entrenched Republican machine, would appeal to Ol' Mac.

And, here's the best, the woman is a populist. Yup, finally, someone not from the ranks of the moneyed or political class. Here's a family, an honest to goodness family, not the photo op variety. Here's a woman who knows how many houses she has, doesn't mingle in elite circles,knows what it is to be middle class. C'mon, she's not even a soccer mom. She's a hockey mom.

So, why am I not nervous about her relative inexperience? Well, unlike Obama, she has actually presided over and administered a budget, that of a state government. In fact, a look at the variety of issues she's faced make her style and her beliefs clear. Unlike Obama, she is not running for the top spot where inexperience in the White House is a guarantee. She might be a rabble rouser, but she is not an "organizer" with all that entails. She does not in her inexperience seek to change the world, part the waters, or even stem global warming. Her political philosophy precludes big government. In this instance, less is more. Thus, if you were to parse it fairly, she is less liable to cause disaster than the "One," not to mention voters have a far better idea of what she would do in office. As far as I can tell, she never voted "present." So what's not to like?

What this choice makes evident is that Hillary should have been the nominee with an apprentice Obama. And I'm not even a Democrat. Hillary, I can respect. That's why they're all steaming. Gotta hand it to McCain.

Book in Hand and Stormclouds on the Horizon

Among the books I've been reading in the last few weeks, the latest Jance, Kaminsky, and Hall, as well as the final entry in Padura's The Havana Quartet, two have become timely. The Swamps of Bayou Teche (A Tony Boudreaux Mystery) by Kent Conwell and Crawfish Mountain: A Novel by Ken Wells are both set in Cajun country in Louisiana, and both touch upon a situation that is particularly relevant with Gustav bearing down on the Gulf. As the latter in particular details, between the lack of alluvial sediments caused by flood mitigation efforts on the Mississippi and the intrusion of salt water from poorly planned dredging, much of the swampy barrier which would protect New Orleans is being eroded. Caught in the cross hairs is not only land but a culture and way of life. For more particulars, read the article here.

DNC Convention: What's Wrong with this Picture?

So far to this jaded observer, the most striking aspect of the festivities has been the rank narcissism. Was a time, you got a nice little bio of the presidential nominee; nowadays, you get both a panegyric to and a loving portrait of the nominee, his spouse, the also ran he defeated, his vice presidential nominee, and the family cat, not to mention the slightly tarnished lion of the party. I'm struck by the lack of issues- with the exception of universal health coverage.

Do not kid yourself, the nomination of Obama signifies the triumph of the entitlement generation. The other day, I caught him on TV saying that his mother had received government assistance-food stamps, maybe- because she was a single mother trying to work and go to school to make a better life for Obama and his siblings. At first, I accepted it at face value. How nice. Then I got to thinking. So my father was working the overnight shift six days a week in a textile factory to give not only his family a better life, but also Obama's? That didn't sit as well.

It's the same with this much vaunted healthcare coverage which will, in essence, be asking someone who makes forty thousand a year to shoulder the burden for someone who makes eighty thousand. We won't even go into the potential abuses once something is free, like the midnight ride in an ambulance to the hospital for a sore throat. Sure, reform is need, but once we add another head to the government entitlement hydra, who knows? And once passed, however unfortunate the consequences, there is no going back.

I am a populist at heart, but there is a difference between believing in the inherent dignity of the individual and a level playing field and having a "soak the rich" mentality. I believe that there should be checks to power. I believe that there should be a social safety net, but only for the truly hard-pressed. It should be for people who will fall through without assistance. But there is also hard luck and there are also bad decisions in life. The question is how far the government is supposed to extend its helping hand and who is going to pay for that reach. The answer here is becoming increasingly apparent. At a time when Western European governments are pulling back from such socialist tendencies, this party would have us go toward them.

I look at all of these people on the convention floor: some who will benefit, some who have so much they can easily afford to subsidize whole towns, and some who are letting their partisanship and/or antipathy for Bush lead them in a direction they will come to regret. So tonight the one will pronounce from the Olympian heights. I probably won't watch, although the fascination of the train wreck may overcome me. If not I'm sure there's a Law & Order rerun somewhere. I can only hope that in the long run common sense and not the increased enervation of this country will prevail.

Updated: Repression in Cuba Continues: Gorki Arrested

Update: Gorki's predicament has received attention from the mainstream media, from AP, AFP, to Drudge. Let's see if it has any effect.

For some of you, this is old news. But for others, there is this CNN report. Cuban Punk Rocker Gorki Aguila, lead singer of Porno Para Ricardo and known for his profane anti-government lyrics, was arrested Monday at his home. Word is that he will be tried on Thursday when he faces 1-4 years on the charge of "dangerousness." I'd like to see Charlie Rangel justify this one.
You can go to the band's website here where there is a link to the info in Spanish.

H/T Babalublog

Post Olympics Buyers Remorse

Reflective by nature, I was fairly ambivalent about the Olympics in China. I rationalized into temporary abeyance my loathing for their fairly atrocious human rights record by thinking that it was an opportunity for the Chinese people to feel proud of their achievements, to celebrate their advances. And in the economic realm, China has achieved much, as anyone who has studied Chinese history or even read The Good Earth can attest. (By the bye you can forget the Cuba parallels here. In Cuba, infant was never on the menu due to famine. Cuba has been brought into the third world not out of it.)

I watched the opening ceremonies which were impressive and quaint, shocked at the co-ordination of thousands of performers. But maybe that's just it. Where other countries would have used the magic of hydraulics, they used people. With the drums pounding, it was reminiscent of the Sherwood Anderson story about the belt. People as machines. But that thought came later, later as I found out that the actual young singer had been deemed too "ugly" to perform. Later, when the single-minded pursuit of Olympic medals was apparent, when remarkably youthful gymnasts, some of whom had not seen their parents in a year, skirted legality, when table tennis was not a game. Later when two elderly ladies filed for a protest permit and were arrested, when others engaging in the same faux pas were sent to labor camps.

It was then that I realized that the Olympic face of China was just the face of the caged tiger. I, too, had been guilty of relativism. It was an impression heightened by Edwin Cody's fine piece in the Washington Post on how the Olympics may have strengthened the hand of the totalitarian State. One has to wonder. It is a consideration those who choose Olympic venues would do well to keep in mind.

Answer Me This: Dem Convention Questions

If you were a national party, and you really wanted to win the presidential election, would you have as speakers at your present convention the last candidate you ran for the office who was defeated, the one before him who was defeated, and a past President essentially booted out of office, Messrs. Kerry, Gore, and Carter?

And while we're on the subject of speakers, what was all the folderol about Michelle Obama? Did I miss something? Is she running for office? Not only is she a keynote speaker, but I channel surf right into her biography, lovingly narrated by her mother. What's with that? Are we going to get a night of Cindy McCain, too, at the RNC convention? Who cares? Please spare me spouses.

Telling It Like It Is

Cuba's nomenklatura does not believe that there is an inherent human right to political liberty and self-government. Raúl Castro and his inner circle are not closet democrats waiting for an opportune moment to express their Jeffersonian ideals
-José Azel in "Cuba's future: Democratic reforms key to real change" here.

Sunday at the Polls

Leadership. Now Ted Nugent is not usually my look to guy for political insight. I turn to him when I feel like asserting my rugged individualism. But this piece, posted on Townhall, ostensibly about "whiners" is spot on. His take: McCain is more "presidential." Besides the man has a point about whining.

Canvas. The incomparable Peggy Noonan weighs in with her take on why the election has turned into a horse race: the American people are paying attention. Particularly amusing is the anecdote she recounts about McCain's speech at the 2004 Republican convention. While sometimes unfortunate, Mr. McCain's sense of humor is part of his charm. Read it here.

Folly. Here's two to lighten up the morning. Seems the Obama camp couldn't resist a little payback. According to this, the 3AM Veep choice text message was taken as a dig at Hillary Clinton. Talk about adding insult to injury. You decide. And I've decided that this is the political cartoon of the week.

Character. Cuba's Angel Matos earned himself a lifetime ban from the Olympics by kicking the referee when disqualified at his Taekwondo match. Wonder what he earned himself back home? Oh well, at least he didn't defect. Read about it and watch it here.

Libations. I'm heartened to see one of the beers of my youth making a comeback. Pabst is making Schlitz again. Speaking of which, do they still sell Pabst Blue Ribbon? I can still hear the sibilations of my Dad saying, Scheeltssss.

Literary Interlude: from Walden

All this talk of wealth and houses brings us to Henry David Thoreau's Walden this fine summer eve. Did you know he once spent time on Staten Island as tutor to Emerson's brother's children? Have at it.

However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault-finder will find faults even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poor-house. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the almshouse as brightly as from the rich man's abode; the snow melts before its door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace. The town's poor seem to me often to live the most independent lives of any. Maybe they are simply great enough to receive without misgiving. Most think that they are above being supported by the town; but it oftener happens that they are not above supporting themselves by dishonest means, which should be more disreputable. Cultivate poverty like a garden herb, like sage. Do not trouble yourself much to get new things, whether clothes or friends. Turn the old; return to them. Things do not change; we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts. God will see that you do not want society. If I were confined to a corner of a garret all my days, like a spider, the world would be just as large to me while I had my thoughts about me. The philosopher said: "From an army of three divisions one can take away its general, and put it in disorder; from the man the most abject and vulgar one cannot take away his thought." Do not seek so anxiously to be developed, to subject yourself to many influences to be played on; it is all dissipation. Humility like darkness reveals the heavenly lights. The shadows of poverty and meanness gather around us, "and lo! creation widens to our view." We are often reminded that if there were bestowed on us the wealth of Croesus, our aims must still be the same, and our means essentially the same. Moreover, if you are restricted in your range by poverty, if you cannot buy books and newspapers, for instance, you are but confined to the most significant and vital experiences; you are compelled to deal with the material which yields the most sugar and the most starch. It is life near the bone where it is sweetest. You are defended from being a trifler. No man loses ever on a lower level by magnanimity on a higher. Superfluous wealth can buy superfluities only. Money is not required to buy one necessary of the soul.

Meanderings: How Rich Are You?

The latest hullabaloo on the campaign trail revolves around which candidate lives more opulently or some such. To wit, Mr. McCain couldn't say how many houses he has. I think to myself, there goes a rich man and a wealthy one, too. I learned a long time ago that rich and wealthy are not necessarily synonymous. Obviously, having that much real estate would indicate that someone is wealthy. The notion of rich, however, is something altogether different.

Although I've been more fortunate than many for most of my life, I have never, ever, been wealthy. And as a single mother for a while, I've occasionally strayed into strapped territory. That's the place where every single dollar coming in- none from the government- is allotted to a necessary expense and where replacing a shower curtain requires "saving up" for the Kmart luxe version ($16). It's where you measure increasing success by buying your child an Oriental fan she will never use again for her upcoming role in The Mikado, and she looks at you in wonder, stricken by your easy agreement.

Now, rich is when you could easily replace that same shower curtain at Bed, Bath, and Beyond, although by now bargain hunting is an ingrained habit. It is walking through Walgreens and picking up toiletries without thinking about the cost. There's the crux, not thinking about it.

Rich people don't think about money; wealthy people might. Think Scrooge- wealthy, but not rich. Now, Mr. McCain is obviously rich. Once you cross that "I don't know how many houses I have my name on" line, you are one lucky, rich, sob. Mr. Obama, on the other hand, made 4 million dollars last year, an amount which easily classifies him as wealthy. The question then is "but is he rich?"

Quip of the Day

This week, Barack Obama's challenge is to select a running mate who's young, hip, and whose accomplishments in life don't overshadow Obama's. Allow me to suggest Kevin Federline.
-Anne Coulter in this week's column.

Told You So

I know, I know, nobody likes a know it all. Seems the Washington Post, actually more like the Commodities Futures Trading Commission has discovered the Mediterranean, or at least that (gasp) there has been speculation going on in the oil markets. One of the prime movers: a private Swiss energy conglomerate. Welcome the the world of the global economy. Read it here and weep.

NOBAMA here

A must have for those suffering from the early onset of Obama derangement syndrome. For about $35 dollars you, too, can get your very own lawn sign and bumper sticker set, as well as 12 issues of Townhall here.

Waiting...

"I have the ability to do it," Nunez says, "and I think opportunities should come. We have to be patient. I have bet on Cuba and on the future of Cuba, and that's why I'm here. We are simply waiting."
-from this NPR report

Given the upbeat nature of the headline, one would think the waiting was over. However, despite the glowing description of the few substantive changes in agriculture, even the article makes clear there are miles to go.

And while you're reading the article, don't miss the slide show of Cuban political posters. Reality, it ain't.

Paco Noir

For obvious reasons, Michael Moore is perhaps the most universally reviled celebrity in Cuban American circles. He is up there on the anathema scale with politician Charlie Rangel, although not quite. His tenure might be brief, a sort of 15 minutes of shame, while Rangel's long career as apologist renders him a lifetime member. So we'll enjoy An American Carol, whatever the quality of the movie. And today I'll enjoy a bit of humor at his expense over at Paco's. Cute.

Updated: Barometer Falling

Update: Looks like we dodged another one. While we're expecting tropical storm weather, it looks like it will hit further South. The last tropical storm around here was Gabrielle which hit the Friday of the week of the September 11th attacks. I remember because the electricity and subsequently the television went off in the middle of the national remembrance. Gabrielle created a block long pond in the back that almost made it to the house. Some very old trees in the neighborhood were toppled. In short, it was a mess. Mess, however, is something we can deal with.


At least, I think it should be. If you look to the east of about 8:30 PM on Tues in this NOAA graphic, you'll see my hometown of Sarasota. We Sarasotans are, like Miamians, a bit jaded (See George's post) if for a different reason. In Miami, they have seen it all. To them, this is routine. They all have shutters, generators, etc. After all, they went through Andrew. In Sarasota, we are routinely threatened with hurricanes, but they never seem to materialize. So although we go through the motions sometimes and gerryrig some plywood, we are like the villagers who have heard the cries of "wolf" a few too many times. Even Charley, the worst, took that right hook about 15 minutes before it would have hit us.



In those days, we were new at this approaching storm business, sitting in the darkness of our boarded up homes, glued to SNN where David Karnes was doing a yeoman's job and was more accurate than the national channels, when suddenly the angel of death bypassed our door. Such escapes lead to a rather cavalier attitude. There are some who say that this was Indian holy ground or some such, others that we are in some sort of magnetic vortex. I suspect we have been lucky.



A meteorologist on TV likened this storm to Charley, which was unsettling. This one seems to be heading up to Tampa, just as Charley was heading to Sarasota. Who's to say it won't take a quick right turn roundabout Sarasota way? Just in case, we have tin homemade shutters that once graced someone's roof, we can press into quick service. And we bought some clips we can use with plywood for the money pit next door. We're bound to have plywood around the house somewhere. Kerosene lamps? Check. Gallons of water? Check. Transistor radio? Batteries? Check. Candles? Check. Charcoal? Flashlights? Somewhere. Gasoline for the generator we inherited from someone who moved up North and have never started? Ouch. The gas station was out tonight. And you need to have those gas tanks filled avant le deluge. Oh, well, guess I know what I'm doing tomorrow. I'm not gonna kid you, folks, it's still scary.

(Blogger is not cooperating)

Sunday/Monday Double Bill

Did he, or didn't he? Republican congressional candidate Mike Erickson got caught with his metaphorical pants down. He took a little junket cum humanitarian mission down to Cuba during Cigar Week. According to the candidate, he took supplies to a medical center, the existence of which is in doubt. According to others on his tour, they picked up a couple of cases of supplies in Cancun to observe the legalities. Guy looks like a sanaco anyway.

Appearance versus reality. Here's yet another article/interview with Rachel Kushner about her Telex from Cuba. Raised in Haight Ashbury, graduate of Berkley and Columbia, Kushner seems stuck on the possibilities of the Revolution. Interesting, that. What almost all reviewers miss is that the novel may be set in Cuba, but it is not about Cuba.

Poet and prophet. At Townhall, Dinesh D'Souza marks the passing of Solzhenitsyn by highlighting not his opposition to Soviet oppression, a timely topic, but rather the criticism of Western society to be found in a 1978 address at Harvard. Thought provoking. Read it here. Speaking of appearances, there's something of the Tolstoy in that photo.

To be or not to be. Another interesting duo is to be found in Ben Shapiro's column about Obama vs. McCain. His point: Americans like their Presidents tough, ergo McCain's boots trump Obama's suits. From your computer to God's ears?

You say potato; I say potato. The Times (Brit) informs us that octopi do not have eight arms as was the general thought. No, the wily octopods have six arms and two legs.

Literary Interlude: Dead Animal Poems

Death of a Toad

A toad the power mower caught,
Chewed and clipped of a leg, with a hobbling hop has got
To the garden verge, and sanctuaried him
Under the cineraria leaves, in the shade
Of the ashen and heartshaped leaves, in a dim,
Low, and a final glade.

The rare original heartsbleed goes,
Spends in the earthen hide, in the folds and wizenings, flows
In the gutters of the banked and staring eyes. He lies
As still as if he would return to stone,
And soundlessly attending, dies
Toward some deep monotone,

Toward misted and ebullient seas

And cooling shores, toward lost Amphibia's emperies.

Day dwindles, drowning and at length is gone

In the wide and antique eyes, which still appear

To watch, across the castrate lawn,

The haggard daylight steer.

-Richard Wilbur

View of a Pig

The pig lay on a barrow dead.
It weighed, they said, as much as three men.
Its eyes closed, pink white eyelashes.
Its trotters stuck straight out.

Such weight and thick pink bulk
Set in death seemed not just dead.
It was less than lifeless, further off.
It was like a sack of wheat.

I thumped it without feeling remorse.
One feels guilty insulting the dead,
Walking on graves. But this pig
Did not seem able to accuse.

It was too dead. Just so much
A poundage of lard and pork.
Its last dignity had entirely gone.
It was not a figure of fun.

Too dead now to pity.
To remember its life, din, stronghold
Of earthly pleasure as it had been,
Seemed a false start, and off the point.

Too deadly factual. Its weight
Oppressed me---how could it be moved?
And the trouble of cutting it up!
The gash in its throat was shocking, but not pathetic.

Once I ran a fair in the noise
To catch a greased piglet
That was faster and nimbler than a cat,
Its squeal was the rending of metal.

Pigs must have hot blood, they feel like ovens.
Their bite is worse than a horse's---
They chop a half-moon clean out.
They eat cinders, dead cats.

Distinctions and admirations such
As this one was long finished with.
I stared at it a long time. They were going to scald it,
Scald it and scour it like a doorstep.

-Ted Hughes

Meanderings: A Mutable Frog

For the past 3 days, I've been watching a frog, deceased. It could be a toad, but the underside looks a bit too green. Our toads are generally dirt brown. The whole thing started because I'm always on the alert for stinging insects while in the vicinity of inanimate objects. We have many wasps in Florida who persist in building their nests on posts, railings, gazebos, even mail boxes, in short, anything that doesn't move and to which the unsuspecting human is likely to come into proximity. The size and striped markings of some are truly intimidating. I've learned, though, that it is the smaller, foul-tempered kind that are more likely to sting. On the bright side, at least we don't have yellow jackets circling our barbeques. Of course, the flies render them superfluous. A more aggressive and prolific class of fly I have never seen, except that unlike those in much of the South, they don't bite. For that we have the no-see-ums, mosquitos, and fire ants. Of these, the no-see-ums are the worst. They are teeny; they are impervious to bug spray; and they have the itchiest bite, a bite that returns to torment for days.

Anyway, on the first day, the cohort of flies alerted me to something by the storm drain. I looked, only to see them dive bombing an upside down frog. The frog looked pretty normal, and there were no signs of trauma on his underbelly. I wondered what had caused his death. Did he just suddenly croak, there by the safety of the drain pipe? He couldn't have dried out; it's been raining daily. And they like that. After a rain, his slimy and off key brethren come out and create a cacophony that would put the Budweiser commercial to shame. Perhaps, a bird had gotten him, and he rolled over. But he looked too intact. I mulled the evidence but stopped short of grabbing a stick to inquire. Curiosity and all, there is the cootie factor.

And so I forgot about him, until the next day. There he was, a little further down the incline and a bit puffier. The flies were gone, and on some level I realized his abdomen was distended by gas, but the thought of what else lay in there made me turn away.

Still, I've become fascinated by this process. Today, I went over to find him unmoved, deflated, whatever having escaped through a hole in his upper thoracic region. Overnight, he had developed a whole host of colors, the effect of which resembled those purples and yellows of a healing black and blue. There was a hideous beauty to it.

I slapped myself- mentally. What was I doing? Why was I drawn to this horrible, beautiful thing? Suddenly, a whole host of poems came to mind. There was DH Lawrence's experience with a snake, or the dead toad one, even the pig. Perhaps, this experience of death would lead me to a great insight about life. Naw. Just a dead frog/toad by the storm drain.

I'll save the insights for others.

Sometimes a Turnip is a Mailbox

I bet you thought, like I did that the late Julia Child was just a magnificent chef with a cheerful demeanor and a husky voice. Well, think again. Julia Child was a...a...spy. At least according to this report which outs such notables as Julia, John Ford, Arthur Schlesinger, etc. The good news- they were on our side.

Highways and Byways in Hidden Florida

It seems unbelievable, but there are still parts of the Florida that have not been overrun by mega-storied condos, McMansions or motels. If you'd like to see it, take a ride on Route 19 through the Ocala National Forest, as we did on our way to St Augustine Beach. I had stumbled on the beach years ago and decided to head there, hoping against hope that it had not been spoiled. I remembered it as a place frozen in time with huge swathes of dunes in between small motels and beach bungalows. It was the kind of place that had a laundromat on the seaward side of the beach strip.

Well, the laundromat was gone. I think my hotel was built partially on the site. And there were new hotels, but I'm happy to report that it has retained much of its character, perhaps because there isn't a building taller than 3 stories, perhaps because there is room to breathe there, despite the jumble of older cottages on the beach streets. The beach is magnificent, the sunrises breathtaking. The water, however, is chilly for this Gulf bather, and rip currents are common. But I loved it then, and I loved it now. There is no pretension, just a relaxing beachside resort, the kind we enjoyed as children.

Major development has taken place on the town side. Still development is to be expected and is not necessarily a bad thing. Now if you ride down the A1A along the coast and you will see much that development has missed. As you pass lonely outposts of condo developments or the occasional town, you run into surprising, unspoiled stretches.

***

Not too far south of St. Augustine Beach is Fort Matanzas, site of a Federal park. It's an easy on and easy off, none of this driving into the dark unknown. Here whiting jump, and the water is all shades of azure against a landscape of sand and native scrub, and you can hear yourself breathe in the solitude. For an interesting stretch veer onto the old A1A where the road straddles the beach. Further down, you'll run into Marineland, a park that has remade itself, amidst various research outposts. In between, there are strata of development. Witness the 20's, 30's, 50's and other assorted decades up to the present. Of the greatest interest, however, are the innumerable parks that lead off the highway, each an adventure awaiting the motorist. The photo above came from just one of those off shoots. Incredible. I am left wondering about all those roads not taken. What did we miss?

***

What I didn't miss was Daytona Beach with its gargantuan hostelries that dwarf the mere human being. Yet, even here there were vestiges of fifties kitsch. Just not my cup of tea, which reminds me...I've shared some secret places, but don't let anyone else in on them, lest they fall victim to what has happened to much of the rest of the state.

One Toke Over the Political Line

Obama's latest radio ad in Florida uses the phrase-after having a President "in the pocket" of big oil companies for 8 years- the implication being that McCain will also be beholden to big Oil. At first I assumed it to be from one of those loony lefty organizations, but, no, there comes the "I'm Barack Obama and I approved this message." Most unseemly to state baldly that the President has "been in the pocket" of anyone as it carries with it the implication of bribery. And unless such venality can be proven, it does little good to fling such an accusation loosely.

On to another situation some would question. Just got a solicitation for money to help the NBRA put up their billboards in Denver. The one in the picture is in South Carolina. They are up in FL, too. Don't know enough about MLK's political predilections, but you gotta love it.

The Cuban Heritage Trail

Years ago, I went on the Irish Pub tour of Europe. Did you know there is an Irish Pub in Heidelburg or another pres de la Madaleine (at least that's what I told the Iranian cab driver in Paris in my just good enough French-that is just good enough for the Iranian cab driver to find it)? Well, this little jaunt started out as a trip to St. Augustine. Please note the landmark at left, complete with pigeon.

Anyway, we stumble upon not one, not two, but three Cuban cigar shops, not where they sell Cuban cigars because that would be illegal and immoral, although they are Cuban cigars because the shop where we end up buying has a young Cuban man rolling them before your very eyes. Behind the counter is a black and white picture of a young boy rolling cigars in Cuba. It is according to the caption the young man's father at age twelve. I found the leaf a little harsh, but I'm no connoisseur. It did, however, smell marvelous. This I know because the hubster, not Cuban, went native on me.

Nothing would do but that we eat at the Cuban cafe we also found in St. Augustine. I suspect that the abundance of food for a reasonable price might have played a large part in his sudden affinity for my heritage. The food was quite good, although as I pointed out to the South American waiter that my rather tasty Cuban sandwich would have been greatly improved by the addition of at least one slice of pork, as that is one of the defining ingredients in the above named sandwich.

So now we're driving down the A1A. He's puffing on the stogie. We're both admiring forgotten Florida (more on that later). We continue the Cuban Heritage trail with a side trip to the Museum of Arts and Sciences in Daytona which has an absolutely fabulous exhibit of the Ramos Collection, entitled "Great Masters of Cuban Art: 1800 to 1958." If you have the opportunity to see it, do it. I don't know that much about art, but I am something of a museum maven. Take my word for it. It is open until September 1, having been extended.

Mind-boggling. Hubby asks of one painting, "If you didn't know, how could you tell it was Cuban? It looks like the stuff from Europe." Bingo. The exhibit gives the lie to that fallacy that we were third world natives. Not to mention, there is a moment of immense satisfaction that this is a portion of our heritage the s.o.b.s will not be able to steal or erase, as they have erased all the accomplishments BC in the Western mind. I am so moved by the whole experience, I purchase the book for $24.95.

So as we leave the museum, I'm just about Cubaned out. I'm thinking we'll stop somewhere I can get some turkey or roast beef, when we pull into this strip mall in Cocoa Beach where there just happens to be a Cuban cafe called "La Tinaja" with a roguish young Venezuelan waiter named Josue. After a tasty and affordable meal of masitas de puerco frita with arroz and frijoles negros and platanos maduros, I say "enough."

By the way, did you know that Siesta Key in Sarasota started out as a Cuban fishing camp? Scout's honor.

Sunday Soils

*I'll be away and probably incommunicado for a few days, so here's a Sunday early edition. There was just too much good stuff to miss it.

Reaping the Whirlwind. Don't miss the cover story in the Weekly Standard. David Zucker, director of Naked Gun and Airplane, takes on the left in his new project. A contemporary political interpretation of A Christmas Carol, the shambling, overweight filmmaker, the Scrooge equivalent, might seem rather familiar. Read it before it disappears and enjoy.

Harvest of Shame. Here's another in the what-have-we-wrought vein of social criticism. Sowell's piece is most notable for two absolutely marvelous thoughts: does anyone remember Mickey Mantle's haircut and doesn't anyone name their kid "Mary" anymore?

An Inconvenient Truth. Alice Thomson informs us that being "green" is no longer cool. Seems economics has led to green fatigue. Best line of all. A Whole Foods in London is so quite "you can hear the cheese breathe." Article here.

On Rocky Ground. NASA scientists have discovered that Martian soil is perhaps not conducive to life. Of course, it could just be contamination. I love science. Read a brief report here.

Sting Like a Bee. A beekeeper removed 3 million bees from a home in Miami. The offending critters had stung a few people, not surprising if there were three million of them. Apparently they were Italian bees, known to be a tad more aggressive. Don't ask me. Article here.

Update: Hunger Strike Ended

Perhaps fearing yet another martyr, authorities ended Cuban political prisoner Juan Carlos Herrera Acosta's hunger strike. He was whisked to a hospital where the stitches he had used to sew his mouth shut were also removed. Undaunted, he vows to take it up once again. Ziva has more information at Babalu here.

The Curse of the Godfather II Returns

As if it's not enough that one of the current crop of books is Havana Nocturne: How the Mob Owned Cuba and Lost It to the Revolution, Electronic Arts is bringing out a Godfather II video game which will be "set against the backdrops of New York, Florida, Cuba." Care to guess how Cuba Bc is going to come across?

We all know the harm that the movie did in totally skewing the perception of the American public. Yet another generation will confuse artistic license with reality. About the only bright spot is that the exposure will be limited to those who play. On the other hand, the game will be available for the Xbox 360, PlayStation 3, and PC. Article here.

Just a Spoonful of Sugar and a Soupcon of Propaganda

Stop the presses! Cuba "hopes," Cuba "expects" to cover domestic sugar needs. Yes, folks, the country that was once described as a "sugar bowl" has been importing the sweet substance, perhaps because their production levels have been akin to those of the Great Depression.

But just to demonstrate how completely the organs of the press have been co-opted, according to AP the production levels were down because of a restructuring six years ago, and the glory years are described in the 1980's. Former sugar growing areas were devoted to farming or forests. Yeah, the capos in Havana consciously missed the opportunity to amass more wealth in order to create more forests. Really. No mention of the true heyday of Cuban sugar, pre1959. No mention of the mismanagement of half a century of communist rule. Nope. And don't give me the shibboleth about the Americans. In 1959, fully half of the sugar refineries were owned by Cubans, up from zero.

And in concert with this earth shattering development comes the announcement that Cuba is to scale back on it plans to produce ethanol. Of course by the time the news makes it to Reuters, it's a question of following comrade fidel's lead. Some cynics might be more likely to suggest that they will not produce it, just as they have not met housing quotas, because they can't; even more likely, given the recent raulian austerity speech, because they cannot afford to divert production from the sweet stuff.

Words and a Letter

Respetuosamente, en nombre de nuestra nación y sus derechos, les solicitamos desestimen este nombramiento, no entreguen el sitial de honor a quien debería tener reservado solamente el banquillo de los acusados.

Bad translation:

Respectfully, in the name of our nation and its rights, we ask you to repudiate this appointment. Do not seat in a place of honor he who should have reserved the bench of the accused.

From a letter by independent Cuban lawyers in exile to the United Nations upon naming a regime law professor Chairman of the UN Human Rights Council. More about it here.

Slice of Cuban Life

The Sun Sentinel's Ray Sanchez can often be counted on to provide telling details of life in Cuba. The tale of his fruitless hunt for a band aid sadly reflects the constant and arbitrary nature of shortages. If he, a foreigner with real money, encounters such difficulties, where does that leave average citizens? To wit:

One day you stumble on a product unseen in months - say, mouthwash. The next day, it vanishes for half a year. Cat litter is like that. I learned from Cubans to improvise with beach sand carted from Playas del Este.

Read more here and this unattributed story.

Milestones

Missed some important markers last week. Babalublog passed the 3 million mark in unique visitors. Penultimos Dias marked its second anniversary and El Cafe Cubano its third. Kudos to all for all they do to advance the cause of truth. Links to each are on the sidebar.

Cuba and the Inevitable

Grim though all this is, Mr. Palacios and Ms. Delgado maintain that freedom for Cuba is near because the failure of the system is by now universally recognized, and Cubans are becoming bolder about breaking the rules. Ms. Delgado, a founder of the independent libraries movement, estimates that some two million Cubans have either visited those libraries or borrowed their books. That so many are taking such risks is impressive, and it jibes with other shifts in behavior. The nation's youth has become irreverent toward authority, and others are becoming less reluctant to complain. There is even a movement demanding that the Cuban peso be convertible to dollars.

This quote from Mary Anastasia O'Grady's article in the The Wall Street Journal about Cuban dissident Hector Palacio's decision to return to his native country echoes much of what has been making its way out of the captive island. There is a sense of expectation in the air, a sense that change is inexorable, and not the vain expectations created by the transfer of power. Despite the recent crackdowns, citizens seem more ready to criticize the regime to foreign journalists, although they do ask that their last names be omitted. Then there are the incrementally growing numbers in the photos sent by the opposition. In one city, citizens banged their pots to show their support for the hunger-striking political prisoners. Another 22 dissidents were hauled away for attempting to show theirs.

More of the truth is emerging in the mainstream press. Harpers does a piece on the opposition movement in Cuba. Conde Nast Traveller features an article entitled "Remains of the Revolution." More and more, there is a valedictory feel. In and of itself, this sense of the inevitability of change becomes something of a self-fulfilling prophecy. The jig is up. But do they know it?

Before I start chilling champagne, there is one factor to be considered: The Chinese Model. If the army continues to support the regime, all bets are off. Witness Tianamen Square. Even more discouraging, Raul is and has been the head of the army. Generals are among the prime beneficiaries of the present system. The only hope would be dissension in the ranks. Otherwise, I fear that this will be yet another in a long line of false hopes.

H/T Babalublog

Move Over, Moveon

I was driving somewhere in the Sarasota area when I spotted a billboard that read "Martin Luther King was a Republican." While I personally cannot verify the claim, the NBRA, the National Black Republican Association stands behind it. The head of the group, which is Sarasota-based, was featured in an article at the Sarasota Herald Tribune this week. Not a day later, I received a press release from the same Frances Rice complaining of the way she and the organization had been presented.

Frankly, I thought the article was pretty positive, but the problem seems to lie in some non profit IRS legalistic stuff. You can read her response here.

I really enjoy the truly political stuff, like the speech-in at the House of Representatives, at least when it's on my side. So I thought I might share something of her previous antics:

An issue of the Black Republican magazine sported an image of Ku Klux Klan members burning a cross. Caption: "Every person in this photograph was a Democrat."

Articles accusing Democrats of embracing child molesters and waging war on God.

Handing out pins at a campaign rally, reading "Democratic Party, Poverty Pimps."

Suit and tie Republicans are horrified, fearing a backlash. I don't know how effective it is, but it and Frances Rice bear watching.

Dying for Freedom in Cuba

It is a small action, involving a few prisoners in Castro's gulag. It has not made the international press. But since July 18th, four political prisoners have been staging a protest against the conditions they are forced to endure in the only way they can: a hunger strike. They are by all accounts in critical condition. A heart rending note written by Juan Carlos Herrera Acosta has been smuggled out. Marc Masferrer has translated it on his blog where he has covered the situation extensively. It is in the original Spanish at Miscelaneas. I was particularly struck by his closing. After cataloguing the physical effects of his protest, he concludes:

The world should know, I will take my action to its conclusion.

And so they shall, Juan Carlos, although in my heart, I would beg you not to take it to its conclusion. The new Cuba will have need of men like you. Que Dios te cuide, mi hermano.

One Sarasota Smoker's Vote

Despite living just about up the block from one of the top ten beaches in the US, I can't seem to get there very often. So it is that yesterday was the first time since the Sarasota County Commission banned smoking on all our beaches that I made it out there. Of course, I didn't go to Siesta Key Beach, because the "smoking areas" the county so kindly decreed consist of the parking lot and the pavilion, both of which are so far removed from the water that having a cigarette involves a Gobisque trek across acres and acres of sand, no exagerration, or maybe not much of one.

Instead, I was reduced to circling beach accesses , the ones with four or five perenially filled parking spots, in other areas where the swath of sand is much narrower. I wound up at a beach that may be private, although the houses are across the road, much less used because of the rocks, and concrete debris. To this I have been reduced.

And frankly, I am livid at the powers that be. I am as much a citizen of this benighted county as anyone else. Okay, I can see why I can't smoke in an enclosed room in public. I can tolerate dinner out, because that is a question of an hour or so. Beach going involves hours and hours of being out on the sand. Smoking is an addictive, legal, heavily taxed activity. There are few social smokers. So don't tell me I don't have the right to smoke out in the open air, where if you don't like the smell wafting across an appreciable distance you are perfectly free to move. I often don't like the music that makes its way from other people's blankets, so do we ban music?

Smoking was banned ostensibly because cigarette butts were a major nuisance, that is to say they made up 10 percent of the litter. What about the other 90 percent? To see that the rationale is a sham, one need only look at the "decree," notable in its schoolmarmish orientation. You can read it here. The reasoning behind the ban is on page 3. I can't smoke so others can enjoy the beach, because people go to the beach for "fitness" reasons, and because it sets a bad example for youth. In short, because they don't like it. I suggest we ban drinking on the beach for the same reasons. Further, recently the beach was closed for a few days because of e. coli. Does they intend to ban pooping?

So I am feeling singled out and victimized. Well, I was born a Hispanic and female in the good old days of rampant discrimination. I am a Cuban American in these days when some minority groups are more equal than others. I am a somewhat bohemian citizen of an increasingly conformist and upscale Sarasota. So I am used to being on the outside. I am also, however, a voter. The county commissioners might want to ask themselves whether it is wise to alienate a quarter of their population. I, for one, have already helped vote out of office one of the earliest proponents of the ban. When given the opportunity, I intend to vote against each and every one of those who imposed it. I would vote for Nikita Kruschev in drag if I had to...wait, he would be right at home limiting personal freedom. Oh, anyone else. I have to wonder how many people out there feel the same way.

Remember today it is my smoking, but there is no end to it when the passing of law is the result of preference and prejudice and not principle.

Words of the Day

From the George Will column. Couldn't resist.

Does Obama have the sort of adviser a candidate most needs -- someone sufficiently unenthralled to tell him when he has worked one pedal on the organ too much? If so, Obama should be told: Enough, already, with the we-are-who-we-have-been-waiting-for rhetorical cotton candy that elevates narcissism to a political philosophy.

Sunday Sports

It ain't beanbag. In a withering column George Will points out what I've been at pains to describe: Obama Oratory Overload. The columnist, if not the candidate, is at his rhetorical finest.

Because it's there. In Pakistan a group of 22 climbers who had reached the summit of K2 were hit by an ice avalanche. 9 are feared dead and 2 are missing. The privations, danger, and endurance involved in climbing were highlighted in that awful season on Everest. You can read about the latest incident here and about the deadly season in Into Thin Air.

Where the boys are. First it was the atom, and now it's chromosomes. Apparently XX does not a woman make, possibly. The Chinese have stumbled into this minefield trying to make sure girls are girls, in order to ensure fairness in competition. This is a problem that has arisen in the past, particularly with "female" competitors from the old Soviet Union. Apparently some women are "intersexual" as opposed to "transsexual." The latter is not a problem after a two year waiting period. I remember something about XXY or something of the sort. Anyway, article here.

It's war... ball. If you want to know what's wrong with our society, just glance at Rolling Stone's recommendations in our list this week. The first few are pretty unexceptional but the "Pimp Juice" tag, the "Makeout Movie" rec. aargh!

And a bit of Gatorade... to clean the palate so to speak. I've been searching for a particular section in Thoreau's Walden and stumbled across this. Sounds pretty cool to me. Anyway, if anyone out there knows what chapter encompasses his throwing out his rocks, let me know. I really don't want to reread the whole thing.

Literary Interlude: Kubla Khan (an excerpt)

Something about the previous post reminded me of this part of Coleridge's poem. The entire thing here.

...
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me
That with music loud and long
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed
And drunk the milk of Paradise

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Meanderings: The Safety Pin

I've retreated to the privacy and relative shelter of a railing far removed from other human beings in order to have a cigarette. The warmth of the sun, the cool steel at my back, a potato on the landscape of life, I am enjoying my brief respite. A woman crosses in front of me unaware that I am watching. Her back to me, she has entered my life and set off a chain of associations she will never know.

It's her long shorts or abbreviated pants. I can't decide which. But it's the fringe at the bottoms that evokes memories of shorts cut from Wrangler jeans, their white fringes carefully picked out with a large safety pin. The remembered act of combing out the blue weft or warp reminds me of two girls in my college English classes.

They were from Brooklyn, the equivalent of present day "Staten Island Girls." Back then, those of us growing up in Staten Island were just starting to emerge from the days when we bought our jeans and fringed jackets at Gold Rush on the then Richmond Avenue. And we were fascinated by these young women in their get ups and their eyelashes. These were a wonder to behold, each lash encrusted in an coating of mascara that seemed to defy the laws of physics. Queried one day as to why their lashes weren't gobbed together, they explained that after applying the stuff, they would take a large safety pin and separate each individual lash.

My English professor was fascinated by their shoes, most of which sported three inch heels and open toes or straps. "F___ me shoes," he used to call them. Remember, these were unenlightened times. Funny thing was he never lusted after them, at least not appreciably. No, the pronouncement was delivered with an indulgent, picaresque, and somewhat patronizing smile.

I had thought of him earlier in the day when I came across the magazine his wife had started. I was struck that it had not only survived but become quite successful. Neither he nor she, however, had lived to enjoy it. I remember the first day that I met him on campus. He was my advisor, this professor with his wild hair and extinguished pipe. The only thing I remember from his first lecture was that he was 48 and that when you get to be 48, death becomes a reality. Studying Shakespeare with him was wallowing in the lushness of perception and conception and Cleopatra and God knows what else. The man was inspired.

And all this because of a safety pin.

Query

Why do all the news accounts see McCain as having an embargo problem rather than InBev having a Helms-Burton problem?

Specter of A Cuba Visit

In a "what is he thinking," Senator Arlen Specter has announced that he will visit Cuba and would like to meet with Raul Castro and Hugo Chavez. According to this article, the senator is quoted as saying that he has always believed in "dialogue." Read the first few comments, and you will see the basic fallacy of the whole situation repeated.

In a point that Cuban dissidents have made, a "dialogue" by definition requires two sides. The Cuban government has made clear that the only thing it is interested in is the unilateral lifting of the embargo and the acceptance, if not approval, of their sovereign right to enslave their people. As for the overtures some purport to have seen in regime pronouncements, I fear that they are but olive branches of the mind.

Update: More Troops to Afghanistan?

Thomas Friedman has an op-ed in today's New York Times that voices concern over the effect of sending in more troops. He makes a case that what might be politically expedient in this country could be the wrong solution in that one.

Measuring the Oval Office for Drapes?

Now that he is back home after completing his victory progression through Europe, the candidate Obama has turned his attention to the transition. Yup. Had to share this one. Apparently, it is fairly common for the nominees to do something of the sort. What is unusual is that the Obama camp is talking about it. What seems to be lacking in this well-oiled political machine is a feel for what is seemly. Then again, it could be on purpose. Are these missteps really a way to convey the inevitability of an Obama presidency (Sign of the Cross)? Or better yet, is Barry faking out Mac?

Read about it here and here.

There's Something About Obama and His Speeches

Actually, more like his rhetoric, that is drawing the attention of wordmeisters. When he first burst upon the scene, Obama's speeches- like the waters of the Red Sea- swept all before him on a veritable tsunami of verbiage. As time has progressed, however, more and more commentators have started crying "Wait, we've heard this before." More recently, it seems almost impossible to write about said oratorical exercises without trying to take them apart.

Witness the reaction to the Berlin Speech. In the midst of the many, many, many flattering reports, there are a few that take on the style, as well as the substance. This is the case, surprisingly, with David Brooks in no less a publication than the New York Times:

...he pulled out his “this is our moment” rhetoric and offered visions of a world transformed. Obama speeches almost always have the same narrative arc. Some problem threatens. The odds are against the forces of righteousness. But then people of good faith unite and walls come tumbling down. Obama used the word “walls” 16 times in the Berlin speech, and in 11 of those cases, he was talking about walls coming down.

and

When I first heard this sort of radically optimistic speech in Iowa, I have to confess my American soul was stirred. It seemed like the overture for a new yet quintessentially American campaign.
But now it is more than half a year on, and the post-partisanship of Iowa has given way to the post-nationalism of Berlin, and it turns out that the vague overture is the entire symphony. The golden rhetoric impresses less, the evasion of hard choices strikes one more.

For me, there has always been something nagging about it all, like something wasn't quite right. I've written about the hyperbole and the repetition. It goes beyond that. So when I came across some of his signature lines, I confess I parsed them a bit:

We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.

First, there's the school marm in me that says you don't end a sentence on a preposition. But OK, my membership in the grammar police has lapsed. Still it sounds horribly awkward. That sentence is better the next one. After much thought, I realized what bothered me. "We" stands for people, concrete flesh and blood entities. "Change," on the other hand, is an abstraction. Therefore people cannot be "change." They may represent change; they may be agents of change, but they cannot be "change." Else, I am freedom, sin, stupidity. All of which might be true on a metaphorical level, but this is not poetry.

I find myself wanting like Gertrude "more matter and less art."

More Mini Reads And More Mini Reads!

I confess, I feel like I've been on a shameless bender. This week, I've logged another four.

I won't devote much time to Blasphemy by Douglas Preston, not that it wasn't enjoyable and thought provoking, but because nothing will ever equal the experience of the The Relic which he co-authored with Lincoln Child. That one had the nether regions of the Museum of Natural History and the novelty of abandoned New York Subway tunnels, as well as a fast-paced, hair-raising plot. Still, he had me going on this one. The title I'm lusting after is his new nonfiction book, The Monster of Florence.

Then there was Phantom Prey, another solid mystery/crime story in the John Sanford Prey franchise. I like Lucas Davenport; I can't help it. Still, he seems to be heading into the rarefied circles of Stuart Woods' characters with $2,000 dollar suits. But it's been fun watching him mature. And who'da thought he would turn out to be monogamous?

Now, Jennifer Lee Carrell's Interred With Their Bones is another type of story altogether. A review characterizes it as a DaVinci Code type of book, and in a way it is. In one night, young Kate Stanley loses her directing gig, when the Globe theater burns down, and her once very influential mentor, when the former is murdered, but not before Professor Howard leaves her the first in a tantalizing series of clues. This is very much an intellectual and literary pursuit with murders, Shakespearean lore and chases galore along the way. In sum, an interesting read, nicely written. I wasn't overly fond of the scenes set in 1613, but fortunately they were few. And yeah, people do go really overboard with these literary battles.

What do you do when you're a struggling young Mexican-American wouldbe writer who finds her life becoming enmeshed in life threatening ways with a group of people with a "condition" that renders them sensitive to sun and very fond of blood? When the indomitable Milagros De Los Santos, pun thoroughly intended, finds herself in this predicament, she overcomes it and gets her man. By The Bride of Casa Dracula, the third in the series, Milagros is engaged to marry the super sexy, somewhat vampiric, plastic surgeon Oswald Grant. I won't give away the plot, but I will say that the odd melange of Vampire tradition, wedding planners, and Cuban food make for an interesting romp. Once I hit the second chapter, I was no longer questioning the premise. The characters are memorable and Marta Acosta's style carries you along. Pure fluff. Great beach read.

Got Water?

In last year's July 26th speech, Raul Castro went off on a tangent about milk, a digression the mainstream media managed to miss, maybe it's a language thing. But since almost universally, Cubans quoted in the media have complained that they have not gotten their glass of milk, this year he seems to have lowered his sights.

This year's wonky wending was all about...water. The aqueduct in Santiago should be finished in 2010, about the time Cubans get toasters. Then there are the 15.6 miles of water pipes, the 231.2 miles of major water networks, and the 390.6 miles of secondary water networks. Just some of the scintillating oratory. Get my drift? But lest ordinary Cubans get carried away consuming and splashing about in the as yet fictional water, they were warned they will have to conserve and not hog up all.

Sunday Strangeness

This week's entries come near the witching hour when hopefully no churchyards yawn in your neighborhood.

Trust No One. In a somewhat serious vein, Victor Davis Hanson complains that the 60's won't die. Yet another examination of the less than beneficial legacy of the "me first" generation in this one on Townhall. Have to like the "60's petulance."

Cigarette Smoking Man. I knew it was only a matter of time 'til the truth won out. This article from the Sarasota Herald Tribune informs us that longer lives cost more money. Wellness and prevention are nice, but not all they're cracked up to be economically. What was that about smokers?

The Truth is Out There. There might be "no conclusive proof" tying cell phone use to cancer, but according to this piece, the Director of the University of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute and UPMC Cancer Centers is issuing an advisory to his employees. Heck, I figure, why chance it? I have enough lottery tickets already.

The Lone Gunmen. Speaking of one in a trillion chances, Dr Edgar Mitchell of the Apollo 14 mission says it's true. Aliens have visited the Earth, and the government knows all about it. And yes, they are little men with big eyes. NASA's refutation is interesting. They have a "different opinion." It is what it is or isn't. Read it here.

Tunguska. Or how about in Russia where miners in the northern Kamchatka region are afraid to leave their compound after bears have killed two coworkers? Read the story here.

I Want to Believe. Let's end with another list. This one of religious sightings in unusual places: potato salad, melons, buns. Lends new meaning to finding the divine in everyday life.

Literary Interlude: Written at Lovere, 1755

Wisdom, slow product of laborious years,
The only fruit that life's cold winter bears;
Thy sacred seeds in vain in youth we lay,
By the fierce storm of passion torn away.
Should some remain in a rich gen'rous soil,
They long lie hid, and must be rais'd with toil;
Faintly they struggle with inclement skies,
No sooner born than the poor planter dies.

-Lady Mary Wortley Montagu