Who among us has not been entertained and amused by Teddy K singing in Spanish? Jalisco! Jalisco! At one point, I thought I might have recognized the piece he was singing, but then...no.
He was just a few days too soon with that little number, though. If he waited, he could have belted out Hillary's new Hispanic campaign song. I am not kidding when I tell you that I am positively obsessed with this after just one listen. You will be too. The full story complete with lyrics can be found at Wonkette.
Oh, pleeeeeze , Associated Press - please give me a photo of HRC onstage somewhere is Texas with Walter Suhr and the Mango Punch! playing this in the background. Wouldn't you like to see her dancing around to the happy beat?
I'm not even making fun of this! I'm partial to Tejano music. This is too much pleasure for me. Listen:
Too bad her big yap has to open up at the end and endorse the message. Harsh!
UPDATE: Mi gentes! Obama's got a Reggeton campaign song! El gigante!
This one is almost as good as the Optimum Online Triple Play commercial. Free advice to the Obama campaign people - try to buy 877 393 4-4-4-8 as the phone number to get people to volunteer/ donate/ whatever for your candidate. It can't miss. And that disco whistle! I want this played at his Inaugural Ball.
Where is John McCain's campaign song? Better get a move on, Johnny. How about some Champagne Music? Maybe the Lawrence Welk Orchestra is still together? Or you could prop up Huey Lewis and the News for a recording session.
I just know I won't be able to work at all today because I just died and went to Campaign Song Heaven.
Here is your real fashion insight from last night's debate: while I suspected that Obama had a trunk full of identical suits, I had no idea that he had multiples of the same tie. And Tim Russert got hold of one!
The guys are stylin' in their bright blue ties while poor old Hill can think of no better idea than brown tweed. You know the whole campaign team is suffering from he same lack of energy and despair when glamorous Huma and even 28-year-old First "Child" Chelsea appear on stage after the debate dressed in more brown.
It's a sad parade of mousey brown. Looking like a bunch of house sparrows flapping around in the dirt, there's neither sparkle nor frill among them. In fact, Chelsea is completely unadorned - not even a tweed jacket - and as such is appropriately attired for a funeral, save for the hooker makeup. Is it just me or did she miss the mark with that blusher? Perhaps she's cementing her reputation as a listener not a talker, by drawing attention to her ear. The Clinton bag of tricks is bottomless.
Another sign of diminishment is the normal-sized handbag Huma has neatly tucked under her arm. Oh, Huma! Gone are the days of the oversized tote, overflowing with schemes and dreams. Now Hillary's future fits into a 7x10 inch half flap clutch. A brown one.
Speaking of tricks, HRC makes good on her promise to control her husband by sending him to a "rally" in the boonies to speak from the back of a pick-up truck (Silverado One) and then taking away the rusty oil drums so that he couldn't climb down and horn in on the post-debate photo ops.
Ole Bill passes the time by repeatedly moving his red clown nose from his face to his microphone and back again.
Welcome to the heights of laziness, or perhaps the heights of repetition. From Our Department of "I'm a Hack!" - Saying this never gets old for me and strangely, never seems to spur improvement. Today we arrive at a new low in blogging as we present not just a repost, but a repost of a repost. Here's a look at October 2003 through the blog goggles of September 2005:
Reflections On Reflections On Reflections
I was sitting here after a glass or two of wine, morosely recalling my long-gone favorite perfume when I decided to Google the tag line from the ad campaign that made me want to buy it in the first place. And what should come up but my own words in the cached archives of my third blog incarnation Traveling in Style?
Plus ca change, cheries, the more they stay the same. Although there are some surprises, such as the earliest post in that montly archive, reproduced here in its entirety:
Wednesday • 10.01.03 Night Out
At one point, I was grasping the handrail in the ladies room so that I wouldn't fall off the pot. I think I saw a streetcar. That's all I know.
and a little jab at Larry King:
Wednesday • 10.08.03 Don't You Have An Orange Stick?
I'm watching Siegfreid Fischbacher on Larry King Live but it's really Larry that is the more fascinating thing to watch. The pointer and middle finger of his right hand have something dark under the fingernails. It looks very much like when the old guys in nursing homes check themselves out and get their own poop stuck under the nails. Then no one comes around to clean them up and it gets all crusty. Larry King. Don't fear the reaper.
For the most part, it is pretty much same old, same old. Dieting, insomnia, Suzette comix, pros and cons of getting a local office (did that really take two years?), driving on the turnpike, karma, my husband the garbage pile commando (known then as Mr. Coffee), QVC purchases, talk radio, puffy hair, business travel. Gawd, I'm a hack!
Oh, wait - I was complaining then that I was a hack, too. Maybe I should branch out into political opinions, or maybe tell the truth about what goes on here once in a while? I'm not sure I have it in me. This is all I am: fluff and a desperate attempt to make you smile because I know I can't make you laugh. If you've gotten this far, I recommend that you read about that perfume:
Saturday • 10.25.03 I Feel Better Now
I went outside to let the sun shine on my rods and cones and while I was out, I did a little shopping. I am a fickle person who changes her mind in a very short while about most things, however, I am very loyal to the first two perfumes that I ever bought on my own.
During the same heady period that I got my first job and my first apartment, I also got my first credit card: Macy's. This led in short order to cards from B. Altman, Bloomingdales, Bonwit Teller and Saks. (Nothing like starting at the top.) I can't remember exactly where it was that I purchased my first perfume but I know the reason that I chose this one was that I was influenced by an advertisement on WQXR radio: "Everyone will ask you what you're wearing." Infini by Caron.
Oh it was something - a cyrstal bottle shaped like an infinity symbol. And the scent was very lovely - romantic and flowery but not overpowering. The cost was something outrageous because I went right for the Eau de Parfum and never regretted it. I used the perfume sparingly and kept that same bottle for many years , probably something like 15 years - the perfume itself turned dark but the fragrance never changed.
Then one day my sister's young daughter got to all of my perfumes and mixed them all together, wasting the perfume and ruining the finish on my bedroom furniture. That was the end of the Infini. I haven't ever seen it again.
The second perfume I ever bought was Je Revien by Worth. I took it to Europe with me and wore it every day for the entire 21 day vacation. I held onto that one, too and most of it survived the Great Perfume Mixing Experiment.
It came in a round bottle with a plain stopper and I used to apply it - flaunting convention - by holding my finger over the opening and tipping it over and then rubbing my fingers where I wanted it on my person. Unfortunately, I did this during a spell of poison ivy and I guess the whole bottle got contaminated because anytime I tried to wear it after that, I would break out into itchy patches. I regretfully threw it away.
I always meant to replace these two first loves, but got distracted by newer shinier scents and just never got around to it. Well, low and behold - today while I was out sunning myself I stopped to cruise through T.J. Maxx and stopped to look over the sloppy shelf where they jumble the fragrance boxes - what a gold mine! And right there in front was Je Revien Eau de Toilet spray. OK, it wasn't the perfume, but it was right there in front of me and it was only 10 bucks.
You'd better believe that I snapped it right up and am right now sitting here typing this dressed in grey sweat pants, a purple polo shirt and smelling like a tour of Europe. I wish I could find the Infini. But I am made happy enough by this lucky find today.
I may be a hack but I'm a hack that smells good.
Pop legend Prince is having a secret HIP REPLACEMENT at the age of just 49—after being crippled by years of sexy dancing.
More: Prince is JW? Who knew?
I'm not sure that his high-heel wearing can be implicated in this. After all, he wasn't even wearing them to be taller: Regarding his shoe-habits, The Artist once declared: "People say I'm wearing heels because I'm short. I wear heels because the women like 'em."
I'm supposed to be cleaning my bedroom now instead of reading blogs.
UPDATE: Busted! Sami came in and caught me eating pistachio nuts and reading blogs.
Sami:"How long are you going to be sitting here eating nuts?"
Me: "Until I get full or until I get sick - whichever comes first. Go clean the garage."
That's what you call The Boomerang Defense.
SUNDAY MORNING UPDATE: Cleaning in process! And not just cleaning - it's the turn it all upside down, flip the mattress, change the curtains, rearrange the furniture kind of cleaning. There's also a mountain of clothing to deal with, clothing coming out of closets and drawers, clothing being relocated and 5 matching hatboxes that can be charmingly arranged as part of the decor but can also be storage for small lady things, if only I could decide.
It proves too much for one person in one day, especially if that person doesn't start until 3 in the afternoon due to the aforementioned blog reading and other distractions, like going out shopping at 6:30.
One person carries forth today.
You were right about that gin martini thing. Now that I have spent an evening with a few Extra Dry Bombay Sapphire Gin Martinis, I am ashamed that I even tried to call vodka in a glass "a martini". Thank you and thanks to Mr. Bingley, too. Everybody knows better than me.
This week, I had an appointment to get my teeth cleaned on Thursday morning. The hygienist and the receptionist were mad with envy when I told them about the Thursday Night Martini Club. They both said they always talk about going out for a quick decompression session after work but they never do actually go. Don't let this happen to you. Life is short. Live!
* not a couple - just a couple of brilliant people.
One of my people is making the move from Pennsylvania to New Jersey in about two months. I thought it would be nice to give her a "Welcome to New Jersey" basket filled with products made in the state. It's not so easy to find a list like that even using all that Al Gore's internet search engines have to offer.
Can you help me think of products that would be suitable? Much as I like machine parts I don't think that would work for this use. This is what I have so far to choose from:
Unless I am, unbeknownst to myself, one of those time-travelers able to bend time so that things I think I remember are things I actually witnessed tomorrow and then traveled back to today with what I thought were original ideas, then I am going to give up the healthcare business and go into the political pundit racket.
For those of you who thought my intense observation of HRC's wardrobe choices as vehicles of a message and clues to the real Hillary was too far out to be of any use, I now present a Slate article where reknowned food writer Mimi Sheraton searches for meaning in Hillary's food choices:
"In the absence of an interview with the lady herself, I have pieced together clues to Hillary's eating habits from various reports, to try to determine whether she is tough and self-assured enough to function as president or is merely a food-fashion victim who opts for the flavor of the moment."
Now is that a version of my concept or what? I admit that I was a little miffed that I wasn't cited in the article as the inspiration for the Slate piece but then I forgave everything when I got towards the end of page 2 and read the interpretation of "the video that the Clinton campaign put out parodying the final episode of The Sopranos, in which Tony and Carmela and A.J. eat onion rings together at a diner. In the Clinton version, Hillary orders carrot sticks instead of onion rings ..."
Really, you should read that one for yourselves. Well done, Mimi. And that's not the only juciy tidbit here. The Clinton's White House chef serves up this:
"And if (distinguished former) President Clinton was on his own for dinner, he invariably canceled the healthful meal that had been ordered for him and asked Scheib to dig into his secret stash of prime meat and grill a 24-ounce porterhouse steak with béarnaise sauce and fried onion rings, evidence that marital cheating can take many forms."
During my encounter with HRC at the Sunny Palace, she didn't eat anything, although there were black-out windows on her campaign bus, so who knows if she had take-out in there? I apologize to my readers - I should have recognized that as the great blog fodder that it is. I'm entirely annoyed with myself that I didn't think of this food angle first.
Just when we thought that we'd never see Hillary's bare arms, here she is trying hard to keep up with Michelle O. Look at the poor guy on the left, obviously disgruntled about having to turn over one of his personalized aprons, displaying his annoyance by emblazoning his opinion of HRC onto his own apron front. His eyes may be smiling but embroidery doesn't lie.
I do not rejoice in the prospect of Hillary's defeat. As you know, I dearly hoped that she would remain in the spotlight for a long, long time. I suppose one can still hope that she'll work some of that famous Clinton behind-the-scenes magic and suddenly turn up with more superdelegates than ABC*, or maybe all the superdelgates will be found dead in a park somewhere - who knows? Anything can happen now!
I must say, Google Images has been very accommodating to me where HRC is concerned. Wasn't it just the other day that I was longing for a photo of Hill with bare arms? I see now that I should have been more specific .
Can you please find me an image of Hillary with bare arms winning at Bingo! Thanks a bunch.
*America's biggest vote getter: Anybody But Clinton
Wart Watch: Level 1
There's so much to become unsettled about in this story:
First of all, isn't the Weinermobile a beloved American icon? Is it at all seemly that it has to plow through blackened highway snow to get around? Don't you think that the Weinermobile deserves to spend the winter months in Florida or Arizona?
The big story here, I think, is that the 2 pilots of the vehicle were both 22 years old. Does Mr. Mayer know about this? Where are your investigative reporters now? I know a lot of 22-year-olds and I wouldn't trust them to safely drive a golf ball, let alone drive a 7 thousand pound Weinermobile around. In the snow yet.
And where are the parents of the Weinermobile pilots? Didn't they have anything to say when these two girls announced that they'd be spending a year driving the thing around, looking for their own replacements? I know this sounds curmudgeonly, but really, it's a very competitive marketplace these days and "hotdogger" on a resume is not going to get them very far. This is parental neglect. (I know that technically, people are classified as adults, but let's talk again after you are the parent of a regular 22-year-old, let alone the type of 22-year old who thinks "hotdog pilot" on winter roads is a sound idea.
From a free beer and party invitations in every town prespective, I'm sure its a gold mine.
Well, that's one thing we don't have to worry about. The thing we do have to worry about is that Mr. Sami is suffering from advanced Lyme Disease. It's no picnic.
He has been complaining of numb hands and arms and a backache for some time now. Both conditions rapidly advanced and even though he has been faithfully following the advice of his physician, nothing seemed to help him. By Christmas time he was walking with a cane. By mid January, he was almost immobilized.This despite muscle relaxants, pain killers, physical therapy, rest, exercise - not only did these measures not help - he was rapidly deteriorating. He had many MRIs and spinal xrays, saw specialists including orthopedists and neurologists and was all set to begin acupuncture ( a remarkable sign of desperation, if you knew how unreceptive he is about alternative medicine in general). Finally, the conclusion was that he had 2 pinched nerves in his spine that were causing all of this, and Sami was on the fast track for spinal surgery.
The neurologist routinely screens for Lyme Disease on new patients - thank God. The treatment is intensive antibiotic therapy for at least 6 months, and the doctor told him not to expect any relief for 3 to 4 weeks after starting the medicine.That was an understatement, since the disease continued its progression and by January end, Sami couldn't walk 20 feet and he could only do that using a cane and bent over at a 90 degree angle.
Sami did recall pulling "a little bug with a lot legs" out of his head around September. When he spoke with other people at his outdoor job site, it turns out that quite a few of them also had tick bites around the same time, but since those were in places like arms and legs, the distinctive bullseye rash was easy to see and they got treatment early. Poor old Sami had the bad luck to get the tick not only in his scalp, but in the one place where he actually has thick hair left so we didn't see anything. Now he as a cadre of tick experts (construction workers) to endlessly discuss all aspects of Lyme Disease - their own or "somebody who knows somebody"'s cases.
No offense to construction workers - as long as they stick to construction work - but it's pretty damn hard to try and tell Sami anything that is in conflict with information he has gotten from his primary source*. And that's another symptom of this situation - talk about unpleasant interactions! I don't even know how to describe his attitude during this whole time, since he's been a bit of a crank all along but boy, believe me when I tell you that things have been difficult in the relationship department. I only hope that he returns to his customary level of orneriness when this is all over.
This week, for the first time since starting the medicine 5 weeks ago, he says he might be feeling a little bit better. Still pretty cranky, though. Thankfully, he has no cardiac damage or brain involvement except for that high level of irritability. With a little luck and a lot of medicine, all we'll have left by the time summer comes around is a big rubber exercise ball and a handicapped parking pass.
* I should mention for those who don't know that I'm a nurse and a big know-it-all. Why would anyone not listen to me?
p.s. - His surgeon still wants to operate on what he insists is the underlying cause of this situation - the pinched nerves, even though there's only a 30% chance of any improvement and a good chance of further problems caused by the surgery itself. We were happy about the diagnosis of Lyme diseases, because even though it's no picnic, at least it has a treatment and in most cases a resolution. I should mention that the location of the surgery would be on his cervical spine, so a potential result could be complete paralysis from the neck down. Not probably, but possible and you know how those things go.
[This post was inspired by Tigerhawk's pondering on the validity of HRC as the First Latina President.]
If the case can be made that Distinguished Former President William Jefferson Clinton was the first black president, then I'd like to make the case for Hillary as America's First Lithuaniac President. Not only does she continue to use her clothing and jewelry to send signals to certain interest groups, but her physical appearance is one continuous salute to the Lithuanian-American voter.
In the same way that pasta makes the heart of Italians beat faster and lutefisk continues to hold a certain power over Finnish-Americans, there are certain foods that make the Lits glow and Hillary doesn't miss a one of them.
But it's not just the foods -
So there we have it - I think the latinas are going to have to get in line if they want HRC to be the first latina President. She's busy with the Lits.
Wart Watch: Level 6
One of my greatest triumphs in nursing eduction is an A+ research paper that I did on health care proxys and living wills. (This was the course during which the professor committed suicide at midterm and everybody ended up with A, but still ...). One of the things that stuck with me is that people don't realize that simply making a living will is not enough. It's an exercise in futility unless these important elements are also in place:
For instance, it's not enough to say "no mechanical assistance", you have to specify "I will not allow ventilators but I will allow an IV pump to administer antibiotics" - things like that. Otherwise you get everything that modern medicine has to offer, even if that's not what you meant.
Laugh first and then go amend your living will.
Today's evil Pollution Criminal of the Day is the dastardly candy heart. The candy heart does not care about the environment. The candy heart enjoys making Gaia weep. In fact, the candy heart's list of environmental crimes is longer than you think. Look how the candy heart, masquerading as an innocent Valentine treat, is working towards world doom:
#1 -- Sugar
"Did you know that sugar production around the world is damaging natural treasures like the Great Barrier Reef off Australia's coast and the Everglades wetlands in Florida?" I'm not sure they really make their point with this one. By this indicator, a Starbucks' Hazelnut Frappacino is your worst enemy. "Refining factories regularly belch out soot, ash, and other solids, while ammonia is released during sugar processing." Now we have something to talk about here.
#2 -- Corn syrup
It's not so much the corn syrup as the 10 billion pounds of fertilizer that "creates a giant algae bloom known as the "Dead Zone" that kills fish and marine plants washing down the Mississippi River into the Gulf of Mexico." Gawd, candy hearts kill the little fishies..
#3 -- Gelatin
"If you weren't aware of it already, gelatin comes from animals. Specifically, it's the boiled-down collagen from connective tissues, bones, and skin of cattle and pigs." Yeah ... and?
This environmental monitoring is a gloomy business. I must admit I don't enjoy it as much as poking fun at Hillary's wart and now I'm a little fearful of the candy hearts. I can't end this thinking of candy hearts coming to belch solids all over me while I sleep, so let's take a look at Hillary preparing for her next gig in the touring company of Animal House.
From Our Department of Things Even I Wouldn't Buy:
Faux Ceramic Trash Bin. $545.00.
My life didn't work out the way I thought it would. Once there was a time when I would have thought that a faux ceramic trash bin was just the type of classy accessory that would suit me just fine. Now I realize that even my garbage wouldn't be comfortable with this. But I sure would like to see 30 gallons of biscotti all in one place like that.
Lotus Sanitizing System.$169.95
The Lotus system infuses ordinary tap water with an extra O2 molecule, creating a kind of ‘super-oxygen.’ Now I don't claim to be a chemist, and it's been a while since I worked in a hospital, but correct me if I'm wrong: Wouldn't adding an extra oxygen molecule to h2o give you h2o2? There. And that didn't even cost you $169.95.
"Created in a university laboratory by a scientist." when I first heard the slogan better living through chemistry, I thought that meant we'd all have Astroturf throughout our houses or personal size vials of DDT to carry around. Who knew that it would all result in anti-wrinkle technology? Although a tube of Preparation H only costs 10 bucks.Same temporary facial "firming", same fishy smell at a fraction of the cost. Those scientists!
Tide To Go Pen. $3.99
When this product first came out, you couldn't get a clue about what was in it. The most useful bit of information was that it wasn't bleach. Now the product website has FAQs, listing such burning questions as "Is Tide To go easy to take on the go?"and "Are there plans to apply for the Good Housekeeping seal of Approval for Tide to Go?" (answers: Yes and Ha! already done!) Now the FAQs reveal that what the active ingredients are - surfactant, perfume and peroxide (h2o2)! So if you didn't mind the perfume, I guess you could clean your grape with it.
Actually, I would buy this. And I did buy this - at an airport newsstand for $8.99. Within 3 hours, I found myself on a plane with a can of Bloody Mary Mix dumped in my lap, at which time I would have gladly paid $18.99 for one of these if I didn't have it already. So I'm not cheap, I'm merely a discerning consumer.
There's no escape from those who are the conscience of the world.
1. Which do you think takes a bigger toll on the environment, owning a dog or owning an SUV? He says its the dog. And then he says its the children. Then he backtracks when the specter of growing old alone looms. And here comes the final zinger: "But it does seem to me that environmentalism inevitably points toward a policy of extermination of pet dogs." Jebus.
2. Going vegan can save Britney Spears. So say PETA so you know it's true. It's the dairy products in the frapps that are to blame, in collusion with those micro parasites in the meat. (Not sure - have we ever seen Britney driving her Mercedes into a ditch in late night search for a porterhouse?) No opinion offered on the global price of intercontinental shipping of coffee beans
3. How to save the environment at lunch: A PB & J will slow global warming, save water, reduce greenhouse gas emissions and prevent deforestation. Veering off-track for just a moment, if Al Gore invented the internet, does that mean he's responsible for all those outdated computers filling up the landfills?
(OMG! Al Gore does own the internet and he shrunk my font to punish me for making fun of him! Don't let this happen to you. Sorry, Al. I mean "Mr. President".)
4. In the biggest environmental bang for the buck so far, the desperate Clinton campaign corks up distinguished former president William Jefferson Clinton with a recycled Starbucks Frappacino cup into his PB&J hole, thereby reducing hot air emissions. Global temperatures drop by a full 2 degrees, polar ice caps are saved and everyone replaces pet dogs with baby polar bears on a woven hemp leash.
Do I smell flop sweat? Gosh, poor old Hill's prospects seem to be sinking, sinking every day. I have to start considering the possibility of switching my fashion observation to another.
Michelle O has good taste, wears nice clothes well and doesn't seem to be afraid of showing bare arms. Where is the fun in that? Not even the possibility of that mesmerizing underarm flap during a "Bingo!" type wave. Admit it - no matter what your politics, wouldn't you love to see HRC waving in a sleeveless top? I would.
Although MO does have some remarkable feets on her. Would that be enough to carry us through 4 years? Highly doubtful. WAIT - I just got excited thinking about the possibility of a photograph of Michelle O and 6' 3" Austrian Foreign Minister Ursula Plassnik sitting toe to toe.
Although there is the possibility of a false impression with the way things are going for the Democrats. The media wouldn't do that, would they? I guess it could - look, they are even stirring up the poop by making early predictions about the winner of the Westminster Dog Show:
Is there not enough confusion and uncertainty in the world already? Must we agonize over the dog show, too? More dog show mania: Triumph the Insult Dog gets thrown out of the Westminster Dog Show:
*Be sure to visit Princess Sparkle Pony for a glimpse of Formal Ursula. The woman is magnificent.
The only serious roadblock between me and my next dog has fallen.
My daughter was the one reluctant to have another dog after we lost old Bob but lately we have been talking about potential dog names. We finally came to one we both agree on* - now all we need is the dog to go with it. It breaks my heart but she doesn't want another corgi, I think because her heart was so broken about Bob.
Answers to your question: Yes, she will be leaving the house - and most likely the country - in a year or two. but that doesn't mean that she shouldn't have extra consideration. Of us all, she was the one who took Bob's loss - and Lassie's, too - the hardest.
So I'm watching the Westminster Dog Show on TV, and thinking what kind of dog I want to get next. Here's my criteria: no long hair and no long ears. That's pretty much it. I'm not really a Lab person and I don't think it's fair to take a high-energy hunting-type dog and make them be house and yard dogs.
How about a poodle? Definitely not a standard poodle because WTF, right? One of those nice medium size ones - a miniature poodle. Poodles these days don't have the same look as the ideal poodle of my youth. I googled up poodle cuts and here it is: the Dutch clip. You don't see that around these days, do you? Certainly not on televised dog shows - they're all busy with the lion clip. That big puff in front that lists to the side when they run around the ring. But a nice Dutch clipped miniature poodle sounds like it would suit me, doesn't it?
Aw, who am I kidding? I want another corgi.
My life is fairly unexciting, and I accept that. I'm used to it and I take my pleasure in the adventurers of others. This week, there were two major carrots dangled in front of me that caused my heart to beat faster.
First, an internet pal from Seattle told me that he was going to see Hillary at her Thursday night rally in Seattle. I was instantly euphoric because this person knows full well what elements interest me and was fully prepared to deliver. In fact, in 2004 he was able to give me a detailed report after he was in close proximity to Teresa Heinz Kerry (off-white slacks and a deep salmon-colored silk shirt, was it not?)
But it was not to be. Traffic tie-ups prevented his attendance at the rally. And look what the woman was wearing - leopard spotted accessories! Our gal Hil is getting a lot of mileage out of that brown suit - here it is at the recent Los Angeles debate paired up with an unfortunate choice of accessories. I like a nice bit of turquoise as much as the next girl, but Hillary - did your stylist miss the plane that night? FYI - Hillary is definitely NOT pulling little Chelsea around like a show pony. Take that, David Schuster! I'm sure there's a very good reason why she has to stand on stage glued to her mother's backside, mute and grinning.
And darlings - if the vision of the leopard accessories is not enough, how do you like her in kitten heels?
Hillary has deployed her cankle-cloaking hemline but cannot resist taunting us with a peek at the Hillary within. Kitten heels, people, Hillary in kitten heels! And the vision is only slightly marred by the swollen feet peeping out over the vamp. Obviously, she left her water pills in the case with her coordinating jewelry.
Immediately following this disappointment came news that another compadre, on another coast and on the other side of the aisle, would be attending an event celebrating the highlight of the Republican social season - the Lincoln Day Dinner. The entertainment promised here was none other than New Jersey state treasure Uncle Floyd. So balance is restored in my universe. I might not be getting a first-person account of a Hillary sighting, but by golly, I'd have me some Uncle Floyd. I was completely confident that I'd get as personalized a report as humanly possible, since this reporter had previously turned in satisfying reports about hotel toiletries and Vera Bradley handbags.
Alas, this was also an unfulfilled mission. I guess the boneless chicken breast was the big moment of the evening, because when that was over with, so was the party. Nevertheless, our man does provide these thrilling observations about Uncle Floyd:
Fans of mp3s, crude song parodies and Jersey jokes, rejoice! Because he didn't get to hear it in person, I present to you now one of Uncle Floyd's classic compositions: Deep In The Heart of Jersey. Why this is not the official state song, I cannot imagine.
Wart Watch: Level 1
The HRC campaign has taken exception to a remark made by an MSNBC anchor suggesting the Clinton campaign has "pimped out" Chelsea.
Maybe Obama is right about the generation gap thing and Hillary and her people are out of it (and so is David Schuster) - somebody get these people over to Urban Dictionary to look up the definition of pimped out. Chelsea already got pimped out with her multi-procedure cosmetic surgery - too bad she's reverting. One thing surgery couldn't fix is her man hands - she's still got her mother's face and her daddy's bony fingers.
Now if by "pimped out", everyone involved interpreted that to mean "physically used for the benefit of a master" - again, look it up - then I don't think that there's much question that the campaign is doing exactly that. And it's not going over very well, either. Observe this clip of The View ladies making fun of the phone calls Chelsea placed to them on behalf of her mother.
Now if you want to talk about the real definition of pimping out, Hillary herself is the master. Did I not tell you that something was fishy with her sudden embrace of the bling? Observe her wedding ring finger one day before the DVF endorsement and look again during her Seattle appearance on Thursday.
See what I'm sayin'? NOW who's the pimped out one?
With this post we inaugurate a new feature here at Cripes, Suzette!: The Wart Watch. when I fist saw this thing on her upper lip, I tought it was an unfortunately timed herpes outbreak, but I've seen it in more than one shot now. It's not always prominent - depends on the lightings, the angle and the thickness of the makeup, but if you look for it, there it is. Click on the image on the right and you'll see that Wart Watch comes in at about a Level 3 on a scale of 1-10, with 10 being the maximum wartiness.
Wart Watch: Level 9
Bar food is not compatible with a reduced calorie diet.
This is the third consecutive meeting of the Thursday Night Martini Club. Last week because of business travel, I had to host a chapter meeting in Tennessee. I thought I would be adventurous last night and try one of those fancy - tinis so after thoroughly studying the specialty drink list, I ordered a Pineapple (something )Tini. Mercifully, it was not overly sweet and it did have a nice (food plan-compliant) slice of pineapple hanging off if it. On the downside, it tasted more like a pineapple Lifesaver than an actual pineapple and it had a light layer of sludge floating on top of it. The Martini Cam was somewhat out of focus so you're going to have to take my word for it.
Then I reverted to my standard Ketel One martini straight up but I greedily asked for three olives which spoiled it. I usually get one olive and one onion but I must have been made slightly unfocused by that pineapple thing and thought for a moment that three olives was a good idea.
And that was it - two drinks. Not so much a wild bacchanal as a quiet gathering of pleasant bar flies. With appetizers. Mine is not an exciting life, but it's excruciatingly planned out to the last detail.
Unrelated footnote: When I was reading Goodbye, Columbus, I couldn't help noticing the number of commas on every page. Philip Roth is a lot freer with his comma usage than I am, or perhaps that was the accepted style in 1959. I always second-guess my use of commas and end up deleting approximately a third of what I initially insert. In this little post, I eliminated 4 commas because, say what you want about me but the one thing I never want to hear is that I overuse punctuation.
You know me - I'm all about protecting my liver, so when I came across this article that promised vitamins and nutrients to protect the liver and offer increased nutritional content to combat the negative effects of alcohol consumption I was all hell yeah - can you make some wine like that too?
And -bonus! - it's from Wilkes-Barre. The Lion Brewery, current incarnation of the suds I grew up on - Stegmaier Gold Medal and Gibbons - now produces a variety of hand-crafted brews, soda and "malternatives". We might have lost Mr Peanut and King Coal but by golly we've got the vitamin beer now and we intend to hang onto it, court system be damned.
Although, really, I might have been more passionate about it if I was still in college. Or still in Wilkes Barre. But even so - healthy beer. RAWR!
It's Super Tuesday and our Gal Hill is out to be everything to everybody in a big push to garner as many votes as possible. She is nothing if not adaptive to what the people think they want. Look for these Hillarys® on display today as she reaches out to all segments of the voting public:
Not just a tender-hearted woman who has been wronged by a straying husband, Hillary demonstrates the "I'll crush your head" plank of her social reform position.
Hillary courts the college crowd by offering to open beer bottles with her teeth.
In a show of solidarity with aging Baby Boomers, Hillary displays the giant age spot on her cheek which she has been told makes her seem more "human". This look also appeals to befreckled voters of all ages.
For those who miss Merv Griffin, Hillary promises her own Celebrity Lookalike services
The No Feces Left Behind Vote
Finally, some specifics about Hillary's health care plan as she gets hands-on to demonstrate how the medical needs of Americans will be addressed after she starves the laxative manufacturers out of business.
And she won't be doing it alone,either. Here distinguished former president William Jefferson Clinton wakes up long enough to practice his main function as First Lad. (Did you think that there would be no payback for that Monica thing?)
In a failed attempt to sway international fashion watchers, Hillary is disappointed that no one has recognized her Princess Di look-alike outfit.
More fashion pandering as Hillary goes maternal and appears here with
trained monkey daughter Chelsea in co-ordinating Mother/Daughter hijabs. "The future's so bright - did I get it right, Mommy?"
[Write your own caption here.]
Joan of Argghh!: The Robin Hood Vote: Unafraid to forcefully take our money from us for the common good.
Dogette: (Evita lyrics, from the song, "Rainbow High"):
I came from the people, they need to adore me. So Christian Dior me,
from my head to my toes
I need to be dazzling. I want to be Rainbow High. They must have excitement,
and so must I
IonaTrailer: The Alimony Vote. On behalf of women who got done wrong, Mrs Clinton shows how to really put the squeeze on them.
Tina: "I did not have sex with Mr. Clinton."
Hillary tries to generalize her appeal as she takes to the streets of NYC to mingle with her constituents. A wise politician knows how to take precautions and employs her custom made ACD (anti-cootie device).
The JFK finger pose, Barbara Bush's fake pearls, Eleanor Roosevelt's old gabardine suit and Ronald Reagan hairdo add up to a political reference for everyone.
The Military Vote
Hillary can throw the stink eye better than any other front runner. This is the moment before the flames shoot out of her eye sockets. (Secret message for Teddy K - start working on that underground bunker.)
Equal Opportunity Snark: I would love to work up a little something about Grandpa McCain by referring to him as Grandpa McCoy but people hardly remember the lyrics to Mellow Yellow or what a Pet Rock is these days let alone a reference to a 60s sitcom role for Walter Brennan. Kids these days!
Still thinking about Goodbye, Columbus:
Which is it? Does related stuff swirl around all the time and you never notice it, or is it that when you get interested in something, you send out a magnetic force that attracts things of like kind?
Yesterday, when I first discussed this book, I wanted to say that I was pleased to find out that the setting was Essex County NJ. The novella was published in 1959 so I was curious to see if the landmarks were still there and still had the same look. My first search was for a look at he lions in front of the Newark Public Library. While there are contemporary pictures of the building and images from 1910, there are no lions to be seen. It appears as though there possibly could have been large statuary along side those steps, I'm afraid that the lions, possibly inspired by New York's Patience and Fortitude, were used here as a symbol of establishment.
Another building mentioned in the same chapter is the Newark Museum:
"Down Washington Street, behind me, was the Newark Museum - I could see it without even looking: two oriental vases in front like spittoons for a rajah, and next to it the little annex to which we had traveled on special buses as schoolchildren."
I was happy to see photographic evidence that the spittoons are still there, or at least in 2006 they were.
Today I was visiting a few of my regular stops around the web and linger for a long time over the newest Square America series, African American Portraits and Snapshots and thinking about the instances that Roth used African Americans in the book as the literary pegs that Neil Klugman hung his outsider status upon.
Admiring the old photographs and thinking what it must be like to view them in person led me to cruising further around the website. This brought me to a page that anounced that "the Newark Museum will be having an exhibition of snapshots from the collection of Frank Maresca which will open on February 13th."
So now, let me ask again:Does related stuff swirl around all the time and you never notice it, or is it that when you get interested in something, you send out a magnetic force that attracts things of like kind? It seems to me like destiny. I'll be going.
I chose this book because I had a misty memory of seeing the movie in the very early 70s and my fondness for Richard Benjamin and the enduring vision of Jack Klugman pouring ketchup on his fancy dinner led me to remember that this piece was a comedy. The joke was on me.
This was Philip Roth's first book, for which he won the National Book Award at the age of 25. You can read any number of scholarly discussions about this novella - it spans only 98 pages in an octavo edition - about classism and assimilation, traditionalism and breaking free, belonging and being an eternal outsider, love and lust. It's not for me to discuss the psychoanalysis of the underlying themes - this isn't meant to be a research article. My purpose here is to record my impressions.
I've read Roth before, most notably Portnoy's Complaint, and was impatient to the point of boredom with the narcissism and self-absorption. It's interesting to read this first published book and see that Roth burst onto the scene as a fully formed narcissist - it's the main theme in this work and the others that I've read. Here is more honest and contemplative than in Portnoy, where it's arrogant and calculatedly stingy.
The self-absorption is the most attractive thing in this work. When Neil Klugman, the main character and first-person narrator, first notices who is to become his alter-ego, the words leap right off the page:
"The pale cement lions stood unconvincingly on guard on the library steps, suffering their usual combination of elephantiasis and arteriosclerosis, and I was prepared to pay them as little attention as I had for the past eight months were it not for a small colored boy who stood in front of one of them. The lion had lost all of its toes the summer before to a safari of juvenile delinquents, and now a new tormentor stood before him, sagging a little in the knees, and growling. He would growl, low and long, drop back, wait, then growl again. Then he would straighten up, and, shaking his head, he would say to the lion, "Man, you's a coward ..." Then, once again, he'd growl."
He's caught by the image of himself, challenging establishment with baby steps. Until this scene, it's been merely an observational narrative. Now, when he dwells on his own reflection, this is when the words become real and you cannot help but to feel that what you are reading is genuine. This is story of love and lust. The lust is transient; the love is for himself.
What I'm Reading Now:
The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde
In The Queue:
Daddyji by Ved Mehta
Mamaji by Ved Mehta
Lyndon Johnson and the American Dream by Doris Kearns Goodwin
A week on the road is not good for thoughtful contemplation of food intake. Here are my excuses:
On the plus side:
Also, there were some unfortunate food choices made when I walked into the door last night after a long day of flight delays back to Newark Liberty Airport. (Hello Mr. Bagel - let me introduce you to my pal Cream Cheese. Let's call up the Triscuits and Pepperonis and see if we can all get together tonight.) So anyway, I'm back to using the Daily Plate and I plan to go fairly low cal/low carb today to get back on track.
Breakfast: egg and pepper omelet with pepperoni.
Lunch: cold chicken with mixed lettuce and cole slaw
Snack: light yogurt
Another snack: cabbage soup
Dinner: cold chicken with cole slaw and a tomato and a pear
This is the type of thrilling content that keeps the blog world churning. Perhaps tomorrow I'll post some pictures of kittens and half-finished knitting projects. Just kidding - I'm lame but I'm not that lame.
Is it wrong to be impressed by the fact that a car dealership has its own bottled water? Because I am impressed. That's how lame I am.