My friend Jason Lefkowitz wrote a great post the other day called “Where is America?”. You should check it out. Jason wonders where the public outcry is over President Bush’s penchant for domestic wiretapping. He’s looking for that “Don’t Tread On Me“ spirit that prompted the colonies to whup some imperial ass so many years ago. I’m looking for it too. If they impeached President Clinton for lying about his personal indiscretions, why are people not more outraged that Bush has authorized actions that fly in the face of our Constitution.
I wonder about these things and they make me very angry when I do, yet I don’t really wonder about them very often. Why not? A quote from Jason’s post sums it up quite nicely for me.
Can we rouse ourselves from our satellite TV and XBox 360 long enough to reaffirm the most basic tenet of the American creed: that unrestrained power is incompatible with the maintenance of a free republic?
Apparently not. It seems Americans are too fat and sassy now in this Age of Excess to really care much about things that don’t affect them. I’m not throwing stones in a glass house here. I live in the glass house. It’s nice and shiny and full of neat things to distract me from how messed up everything is. And I suspect like most Americans, I spend my time in that glass house working, surfing the web, watching TV, talking to my friends, hanging out with my spouse, and doing anything but spend a lot of time worrying about what our government is up to these days.
I’m not proud of this by any means, but the evidence seems to suggest that I really don’t care that much, and that I’m not alone. Why not?
For me personally, I think it’s that none of these big issues affect my day-to-day life in any meaningful way. I didn’t know anyone who was killed on 9/11. I don’t know anyone serving in Iraq or Afghanistan. The price of gas these days is annoying, but I’m still traveling just as much as I used to. The government isn’t spying on me as far as I know - though I guess I wouldn’t know, would I? - but even if they were, I don’t have anything to hide, save my interest in Asian midget cheerleader porn and Hello Kitty. Okay, that last part was a joke. I don’t dig on Hello Kitty.
It’s not that I don’t have strong opinions on any of these things. I do. I thought Afghanistan was the right thing to do. I think Iraq is one of the worst decisions a US President has ever made. The domestic wiretapping thing is just another outrageous erosion of our civil liberties in a long line of outrageous erosions of our civil liberties this administration has sought since it came into power.
It makes me sick when I think about all of these things, but therein lies the rub: when I think about them. When do I think about them? Mostly when I’m watching or reading the news, and every now and then when talking about it to someone. None of these activities make up a major portion of my day, and I suspect it’s the same for many other Americans.
So where does that leave us? Probably screwed. Just like 9/11 or Katrina, we won’t really care until something catastrophic happens. When gas is $20.00 a gallon. When there is no more oil. When we’re all speaking Chinese in 15 years. When we start throwing people in jail for speaking out against the government. When the economy collapses under the weight of the crushing debt Bush has put on our collective shoulders. When we’re all dying from bird flu.
So where is America? Where are the people that rose up in the face of tyranny to make this country great? We’re still here, but we’re too fat to do that anymore.
We suck.
I suck.
I know that I’m part of the problem, and GI Joe once told me that knowing is half the battle. Now it’s time for me to work on the other half. The hard one. Even if I only do something small, it has to be better than the nothing I’m doing right now.
I’ll start as soon as I finish the new XBox game I got for Christmas.
“Monday Night Football” ends its run on ABC tonight after 558 broadcasts. Good. Save Brett Farve’s 399-yard 4 TD performance in tribute to his recently departed father a couple years ago, I haven’t seen an interesting game on Monday night since the late nineties.
In many ways it’s sad that a pioneering broadcast like “MNF” has to end, but these days the show is like a faithful but ailing dog that needs to be put out of his misery. “MNF” is actually moving to ESPN, but it will no longer have the panache of being the primtetime network show that it’s been since its inception in 1970.
The show has been especially bad this final couple seasons, with the introduction of redneck musicals at halftime and the pairing of jackass Al Michaels with the way-past-his-prime John Madden. It saddens me that a show I used to really look forward to has come to this, but I suppose that nothing lasts forever.
I’ll watch one last time tonight in hopes of seeing some glimpses of the show I once loved. But like an old girlfriend, “Monday Night Football” will eventually fade off into a distant, vaguely pleasant memory that rarely comes to mind anymore.
It’s a silent night here at Casa del Blizzog. My beautiful wife is asleep across the hall. Santa and I just enjoyed a little egg nog together before he continued on out into the night, and I find myself reflecting on the year that was.
Like many years past, this one had its ups and downs. From worries about my father’s health, to turning the big 3-0, to fun times with family and friends, 2005 had a little bit of everything, good and bad.
Through it all, just like always, I’ve had those same friends and family by my side to help me celebrate those highs and navigate the lows. And though I never say it enough to each of you, your calls, your emails, your blizzog comments, your time spent with me - all of it - it means the world to me.
I know that I don’t call as much as I should, or email as much as I should, or visit as much as I should, or rub your back as much as I should - okay, that last one is really only for one of you - but I want you all to know that your love and friendship is better than any gift I could ever unwrap later today or any other Christmas, and I hope I find better ways to express that to each of you with each passing day.
Merry Christmas, everyone. You all are the best.
Let’s just give it up: The Internet rulez. I’m reading an article about the recent “My Name is Earl” episode where they paid homage to Smokey and The Bandit - great episode and great show, by the way - and it mentions how they made use of Jerry Reed’s hit song from the movie “East Bound and Down”. I love that song, though I never knew what the title was.
Two minutes later I’m downloading it on iTunes and listening to it. I love technology. Whether it’s helping us truck beer from Texarkana to the thirsty in Atlanta, or helping us reconnect with a long lost favorite song, it’s always there for us when we need it. Good times.
“East Bound and Down“, by Jerry Reed
East bound and down, loaded up and truckin'
We gonna do what they say can't be done
We've got a long way to go and a short time to get there
I'm east bound, just watch ol' 'Bandit' run
Keep your foot hard on the pedal
Son, never mind them brakes
Let it all hang out 'cause we got a run to make
The boys are thirsty in Atlanta and there's beer in Texarcana
And we'll bring it back no matter what it takes
East bound and down, loaded up and truckin'
We gonna do what they say can't be done
We've got a long way to go and a short time to get there
I'm east bound, just watch ol' 'Bandit' run...
East bound and down, loaded up and truckin'
We gonna do what they say can't be done
We've got a long way to go and a short time to get there
I'm east bound, just watch ol' 'Bandit' run...
Ol' Smokey's got them ears on
He's hot on your trail
He ain't gonna rest 'til you're in jail
So you got to dodge 'im and you got to duck 'im
You got to keep that diesel truckin'
Just put that hammer down and give it hell...
East bound and down, loaded up and truckin'
We gonna do what they say can't be done
We've got a long way to go and a short time to get there
I'm east bound, just watch ol' 'Bandit' run...
The blizzog would like to congratulate the Cincinnati Bengals for winning the division and clinching a playoff berth for the first time in 15 years. My suffering is over. Thank you, Marvin Lewis. Thank you.
Tim Berners-Lee is blogging. If you don’t know who he is, you should. Respek.
I’ve been trying to do the adult thing these past few years and shore up our finances in the event that something bad should happen to me. I got a life insurance policy a few years ago that ensures AG would be taken care of if I were to get hit by a bus or get bucked down saving some innocent old people or hot chicks during a bank robbery or something cool like that. One of the other important things you should do when you’re my age is score some disability insurance.
Why? Though this isn’t fun to think about, at my age, I’m statistically much more likely to get maimed in a horrific accident than I am to die. And while there are few things that sound worse than slobbering all over myself while blankly watching VH-1 all day, doing it while I’m poor with no way to provide for AG is one of them.
So I set out a few months ago to get myself some disability insurance, and it’s been one comedy of errors after another. The insurance company misinterpreted my doctor’s charts and believed that I was really unhealthy when actually I’m in great health. I’ve had to run all over the place getting charts from eye doctors and receipts for my glasses to prove that I don’t have MS. (Don’t ask.) It’s been nuts.
Finally after all the drama we got things resolved and came to an agreement on the premiums, etc. When it came time to finaly bind the policy, my insurance guy called me with some great news. He said that this whole time during the application process, they had me entered into the system as a woman. Go figure. They had everything else wrong, so why not this too?
The good news was that when they made the change, my premium got cut in half!!! Fifty percent. So I interpret this to mean that if I were still me, but a woman, I’d be twice as likely to be maimed in some horrific accident.
I can only assume this is because I wouldn’t be as good a driver. 
Former pro wrestler Diamond Dallas Page is suing Jay-Z, claiming the hip-hop heavyweight has illegally adopted his trademark hand gesture — the “Diamond Cutter” — as his own. The suit accusses Jay-Z of trademark and copyright infringments and - this is my favorite - “misappropriation” of the hand symbol. Is that really illegal?  Has anyone ever been thrown in jail for misappropriation of a hand symbol? “Officer, that man misappropriated my hand symbol. Arrest him!!!”
How lame is this? A has-been wrestler suing over a hand gesture? If we need to sue anybody for hand gestures, we need to sue all the stupid people at college football games who do the alligator chomp with their arms while the band plays the Star Wars “Imperial March”. Shouldn’t you only get to do that if you’re a Florida Gator fan? While we’re at it, can we sue Longhorn fans for their stupid “hook ‘em horns“ thing and State fans….well, just because.
In related news, Diamond Dallas Page is suing every college football and basketball player that has ever imitated the hand symbol. Rashad McCants was unavailable for comment. Also targeted for litigation are those hand gesture misappropriating bastards from the Nationwide Insurance commercials that make squares with their hands, and all people who are photographers or pretended to be a photographer by framing a scene with your hands. If while reading this post you framed your monitor with your hands to see what it would look like, please contact DDP so he can sue your thieving ass too.
Good luck, Jay-Z. I hope you win. You are, in my opinion, one of the greatest rappers of rap in our lifetimes.Â
It’s after 2 AM and I can’t sleep. This sucks. On the plus side, either the antibiotics kicked in or I had Pneumonia Lite or Pneumonia Zero, but I am feeling better now…. I think. I had a bit of a cough and my chest was kinda tight before I went to sleep, so I took a Tylenol PM thinking that would knock me out, preventing me from coughing all night and keeping AG awake.
No dice….sorta. The cough is gone, but I’m not tired at all. Did my Tylenol AM and PM tablets decide to swtich boxes in a cruel little joke? What’s going on?
I took the Tylenol PM around 10. Ashley went to sleep, and I stayed up and watched the rest of the UNC/St. Louis game on ESPN on mute in our room. The game ended around eleven - UNC won, werd - and I watched the first part of a “Making of Codebreakers” doc on ESPN. I finally found out what this move is about. It’s the true story of some football players at Army in the 50’s who were cheating to stay eligible, and the dude who knew what they were doing and had to decide between honoring his friendships or honoring the West Point Code of honor.
Codebreakers looks kinda interesting, though I noticed it has Jake Busey in it. I try to live in a Busey-free zone as much as possible, so I don’t know if I can……HEY!!! Did you see in Jake Busey’s IMDB profile that he’s in Road House 2: Last Call?!!!
They’re making a Road House 2? Without Swayze? How can this be? Who could have possibly thought this was a good idea? I don’t know about you, but I didn’t really leave the original Road House with any lingering questions other than “What medical school produces insanely hot doctors like Kelly Lynch’s Dr. Elizabeth Clay?” and “Where can I learn to rip somebody’s neck out with my bare hands?” These are hardly the premises on which a sequel is based. That said, if they have Jeff Healy in the movie making references to how rowdy Dayton is, then count me in. Werd.
So anyway, after the first segment of the Codebreakers behind-the-scenes thinger I caught my first syndicated South Park on our crappy ABC affiliate, also on mute. It was one I’ve never seen before, called “Butters’ Very Own Episode”. What surpised me the most about his episode was that is originally aired in 2001. When Butter’s parents blame his disappearance on “some Puerto Rican guy”, I thought for sure Trey and Matt were making fun of Runaway Bride Jennifer Wilbanks’ claim that she had been abducted by some Mexican dude. They were well ahead of their time.
So after that I tried to go to sleep, but it wasn’t happening. I got up and I’ve been here in my office since about 11:45 waiting for myself to get tired, and still nothing. Tomorrow…. well, later today…. is going to suck. I was hoping that writing this rambling post would help put me to sleep, much like it has probably put you to sleep by now, but still no luck.
Maybe I’ll got back to my room and try again. Instead of counting sheep, maybe I can count the many ways in which Road House 2: Last Call is going to suck.
This just in: I’m freaking sick again. Stop the presses. After a run of seven good months without so much as a sniffle, I managed to pick up pneumonia in Ohio last week.
Okay, to be fair, I managed to pick up a little chest cold in Ohio last week, and then refrained from going to the doctor until this morning, after I coughed up what I’m pretty sure was some placenta. AG asked me to go to the doctor all last week, but I thought I’d get over it. As usual, I’m an idiot, and AG is the smartest person ever.
The bad news of course is that this strikes right during the holidays, a time when I should be out evading Salvation Army bell ringers and chucking cash into the gaping maw of US commerce. The good news is that when I’m feeling well enough to go out shopping, I’ll probably slap on one of those surgical masks to keep from getting sick again.
I’m guessing that people will think I have bird flu, SARS, or an unhealthy obsession with the old keyboard player from Prince & The Revolution. Any of those should strike fear into my fellow shoppers. And with a well-timed cough here or there, I shouldn’t really have to wait in line anywhere, or be around actual people for that matter. Good times. See? Every cloud DOES have a silver lining.
