Good News/Bad News

It’s Nice to be Important but more Important to be Nice

The Campaign Trudges Onward: A couple of characteristics have arisen during this presidential campaign which have shown some stark differences among the three candidates. The Senator from Arizona he presented a grandfatherly persona with a streak of orneriness. But he has at times unleashed vile comments toward his wife, his underlings, and even members of the press. Ok, maybe some of the members of the press deserved it. The Senator from New York has become a chameleon. She found her voice after one primary (after boasting of twelve years of serving her country she didn’t have a voice?), cried in an interview (that was a killer for Geraldine Ferraro but worked for Lady C.), belted down a shot and a beer, picked up her Jed Clampett gun, and made the NASCAR circuit. During that time she continued to squirt her same-party opponent with pepper-spray of vitriol. The Senator from Illinois seems to be running for Sainthood. His approach is to find logic and common ground rather than to wield a sword. While the Arizona senator takes a nap it seems like one or the other candidates has Karl Rove for a campaign manager and the other has Ghandi.

Democracy allows you to vote for who you like the least: One consequence of American Democracy is that each side tars the other side’s candidate with slime and mud. Karl Rove did not invent the technique, though he makes a good target to blame. The Republicans in the name of James Blaine in the 1800s used inflammatory comments alleging that candidate Grover Cleveland had fathered a son out of wedlock. The cry was, “Ma, Ma, where’s my Pa? Gone to the White House, ho, ha, ha.” Cleveland struck back with a lesser known quote, “James G. Blaine, The Continental Liar from the State of Maine.” That time the Repbs won the poetry contest but the Dems won the election.

Those Texans Do Everything Big: A Kentuckian was boasting to a Texan that there was enough gold in Fort Knox to build a fence around the entire state of Texas three feet high. The Texan responded, “Y’all go ahead and build yer fence and if we like it we’ll buy it.” The sinkhole in Texas is now over 250 feet deep and more than three football fields long! Maybe the entire state of Texas will sink in, or maybe it will swallow the polygamy compound. Things are big in Texas. But as the Alaskans were so proud of saying when they achieved statehood, “Little old Texas, we still love ya.”

From the Outhouse to the Penthouse: Carl Hunter was a good old boy but had been down on his luck since Katrina hit his home town. A construction worker, he lost his two-home investment to the floodwaters. He was busted, disgusted, his bank account encrusted. His wife asked him to run to the local convenience store for a quart of overpriced milk. He did and used the change to buy a Powerball lottery ticket. Good decision. Kaching! The ticket was worth $ 97 million. I just love happy endings.

A little blogging music Maestro... “Against All Odds” by Phil Collins.

Dr. Forgot