"How do we beat the bitch?"
If you look at the video of the South Carolina woman asking that question to John McCain, what seems most discordant is not what she said but what she looks like. She looks like a country-club, blonde Southernern lady "of a certain age," as Tennessee Williams might have said. Dainty. Dignified. You know. From Memphis to Mobile, it's a type.
"How do we beat the bitch?'
And the question most certainly doesn't go with the type. It is distinctly non-dainty, non-dignified, and most definitely un-lady-like.
But was it a macaca moment for John McCain? No. Yeah, he should have probably recoiled in mock horror, and gasped something like, "Why madam!" He still would have been criticized for taking it too lightly. Hey, he did say he respected Hillary Clinton. Okay, several minutes after the question, but he did say it. No small thing in front of a small knot of knee-jerk right-wingers who no doubt are the actual small knot of twelve people who still believe in Dick Cheney.
I'll tell you who it was a macaca moment for. The lady who asked the question. If she has any national political aspirations, they're finished.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
My Sitter, My President
Finally, a political poll result I couldn't resist digesting in all its usually boring detail.
Except it wasn't.
As reported in USA Today, Parents Magazine commissioned a poll which asked which of the presidential candidates of both parties parents most and least trusted to baby-sit their children. (It was conducted by Global Strategy Group, a national polling and consulting firm.)
A full 20% of respondents said they would not trust ANY of the announced candidates with their children. That's comforting, isn't it?
26%--the largest number in the poll--said they would most trust Hillary Rodham Clinton to baby-sit their children.
So Hillary gets the baby sitter vote, right?
Not so fast.
25 %--the largest negative number--said of all the candidates, the one they would least trust their children with was...Hillary Rodham Clinton.
Once again, Clinton winds up squarely on both sides of an issue.
Mitt Romney may be polling well with the flat-earth, let's-go-back-to-the-fifties types, but he can kiss the "could he baby-sit our kids?" vote goodbye. Only 5% in the poll would drive off for the night with Mitt in charge at the house. And really, why should it be otherwise? Romney is a man who has change his mind about just about everything that has ever crossed it, so fair for a parent to wonder if mid-way through the evening, Mitt might just take off, having decided that, on second thought, this baby-sitting thing is not for me.
But then, John Edwards only drew 5%, too. Surprising, too, when you think about it. This is a man, a dad, who has young kids at home now. Knows a thing or two about children. And hasn't he spoken eloquently for years about "Two Americas," one with good dependable sitters, and one with crappy sitters who never call you back, have their boyfriends over, and go through your stuff? Or was that "Two Americas" thing about poverty and lack of economic justice? Oh, wait, I think it was...
Rudy "9/11" Giulliani only polled slightly better at 9%. Maybe his past is finally catching up with him. No, not his "Ask Me About 9/11" past, but his disttinctly non-heroic family past. This is a man whose kids hate him, and are supporting other candidates. A man who used a press conference to inform his second-wife (he's on #3 now) that he intended to divorce her. Clearly those are the kind of traditional family-values that attracted the endorsement of that values Vicar himself, Pat Robertson.
Neither Dennis Kucinich nor Mike Gravel registered in the poll. Pity. Mike Gravel may strike many as that nutty, grouchy uncle in the Democratic debates, but at least you know he'd get the kids to bed on time, the playroom would be spotless, and their teeth would be well-brushed. Their shoes would probably be lined up by the bed according to size, too. Gravel would make Mrs. Doubtfire seem like an addled substitute teacher. "I said lights out now or we'll get out of bed and realign those shoes all over again!"
But enough about which presidential candidate would make the best baby-sitter.
The important thing is that one of them will be president by this time a year from now.
Replacing a president who desperately needed a good sitter, and who should never have been left alone in the house...
Except it wasn't.
As reported in USA Today, Parents Magazine commissioned a poll which asked which of the presidential candidates of both parties parents most and least trusted to baby-sit their children. (It was conducted by Global Strategy Group, a national polling and consulting firm.)
A full 20% of respondents said they would not trust ANY of the announced candidates with their children. That's comforting, isn't it?
26%--the largest number in the poll--said they would most trust Hillary Rodham Clinton to baby-sit their children.
So Hillary gets the baby sitter vote, right?
Not so fast.
25 %--the largest negative number--said of all the candidates, the one they would least trust their children with was...Hillary Rodham Clinton.
Once again, Clinton winds up squarely on both sides of an issue.
Mitt Romney may be polling well with the flat-earth, let's-go-back-to-the-fifties types, but he can kiss the "could he baby-sit our kids?" vote goodbye. Only 5% in the poll would drive off for the night with Mitt in charge at the house. And really, why should it be otherwise? Romney is a man who has change his mind about just about everything that has ever crossed it, so fair for a parent to wonder if mid-way through the evening, Mitt might just take off, having decided that, on second thought, this baby-sitting thing is not for me.
But then, John Edwards only drew 5%, too. Surprising, too, when you think about it. This is a man, a dad, who has young kids at home now. Knows a thing or two about children. And hasn't he spoken eloquently for years about "Two Americas," one with good dependable sitters, and one with crappy sitters who never call you back, have their boyfriends over, and go through your stuff? Or was that "Two Americas" thing about poverty and lack of economic justice? Oh, wait, I think it was...
Rudy "9/11" Giulliani only polled slightly better at 9%. Maybe his past is finally catching up with him. No, not his "Ask Me About 9/11" past, but his disttinctly non-heroic family past. This is a man whose kids hate him, and are supporting other candidates. A man who used a press conference to inform his second-wife (he's on #3 now) that he intended to divorce her. Clearly those are the kind of traditional family-values that attracted the endorsement of that values Vicar himself, Pat Robertson.
Neither Dennis Kucinich nor Mike Gravel registered in the poll. Pity. Mike Gravel may strike many as that nutty, grouchy uncle in the Democratic debates, but at least you know he'd get the kids to bed on time, the playroom would be spotless, and their teeth would be well-brushed. Their shoes would probably be lined up by the bed according to size, too. Gravel would make Mrs. Doubtfire seem like an addled substitute teacher. "I said lights out now or we'll get out of bed and realign those shoes all over again!"
But enough about which presidential candidate would make the best baby-sitter.
The important thing is that one of them will be president by this time a year from now.
Replacing a president who desperately needed a good sitter, and who should never have been left alone in the house...
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.
No, not a comment on the Bush-Cheney message for America.
Rather, Halloween last night, and my wife and I for the third consecutive year joined a small posse of neighborhood kids and parents for group trick-or-treating. Little did we know just how scary things would be out there in the dark with the pumpkins and the witches and the ghosts.
For one thing, the older and bigger kids have gotten, well, older and bigger. My 4-year-old tried to keep up with the slightly older girls, and several boys. But watching my 2-year-old toddle and weave her way up each walkway to each door was downright scary: first, she was jolted and pushed aside as the small, costumed mob made for the door ahead of her; then she was washed aside all over again as the kiddie wave broke from the door and dashed away making for the next house. It was like a new form of "wilding."
If I didn't intercede and literally carry her from door to door, she would have been left limp and splayed like some European soccer crowd casualty.
I actually felt pity for some of the poor people opening doors. Many were greeted by a small pack of kids 8-10 deep raising their goody bags in unison. Some actually seem to have a sudden look of shock and fear on their faces. If it were me, I would have simply tossed handfuls of candy out the door like a zookeeper feeding a pack of hungry hyenas. Then slam the door and just pray they all got some and that a few minutes later I would not see small heads bobbing up and down at the living room window like something out of a Hitchcock movie. Nevermind "The Birds." "The Kids!"
The pack began darting from house to house with seemingly increasing speed and fervor. It was candylust, plain and simple. The only elements missing were pitchforks and burning torches, and given that it was Halloween, that probably could have blended right in.
"Give us full-size Snickers or we'll burn your house down!"
"Hey, Maloneys--we know you're in there! Don't make the same mistake the Levinsons made with the bite-size Milky Ways and the single-serving Yogurt Bars!"
Scary. Very scary.
After 30 minutes or so, we weaned our girls away from the wolf-pack, and headed down another street toward home, a full several houses ahead of the mob. Next year we may wean from Halloween altogether. At least as we've done it. We're eyeing another neighborhood, and leaving the pack behind.
We'll leave the terror tactics to the White House. Where it's always Halloween....
Rather, Halloween last night, and my wife and I for the third consecutive year joined a small posse of neighborhood kids and parents for group trick-or-treating. Little did we know just how scary things would be out there in the dark with the pumpkins and the witches and the ghosts.
For one thing, the older and bigger kids have gotten, well, older and bigger. My 4-year-old tried to keep up with the slightly older girls, and several boys. But watching my 2-year-old toddle and weave her way up each walkway to each door was downright scary: first, she was jolted and pushed aside as the small, costumed mob made for the door ahead of her; then she was washed aside all over again as the kiddie wave broke from the door and dashed away making for the next house. It was like a new form of "wilding."
If I didn't intercede and literally carry her from door to door, she would have been left limp and splayed like some European soccer crowd casualty.
I actually felt pity for some of the poor people opening doors. Many were greeted by a small pack of kids 8-10 deep raising their goody bags in unison. Some actually seem to have a sudden look of shock and fear on their faces. If it were me, I would have simply tossed handfuls of candy out the door like a zookeeper feeding a pack of hungry hyenas. Then slam the door and just pray they all got some and that a few minutes later I would not see small heads bobbing up and down at the living room window like something out of a Hitchcock movie. Nevermind "The Birds." "The Kids!"
The pack began darting from house to house with seemingly increasing speed and fervor. It was candylust, plain and simple. The only elements missing were pitchforks and burning torches, and given that it was Halloween, that probably could have blended right in.
"Give us full-size Snickers or we'll burn your house down!"
"Hey, Maloneys--we know you're in there! Don't make the same mistake the Levinsons made with the bite-size Milky Ways and the single-serving Yogurt Bars!"
Scary. Very scary.
After 30 minutes or so, we weaned our girls away from the wolf-pack, and headed down another street toward home, a full several houses ahead of the mob. Next year we may wean from Halloween altogether. At least as we've done it. We're eyeing another neighborhood, and leaving the pack behind.
We'll leave the terror tactics to the White House. Where it's always Halloween....
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Got 9/11?
That should be Rudy Giuliani's campaign slogan. Period. Why dick around with crusty, cliched, shopworn slogans when there's a fresh, brand-new one that fits the candidate like a glove?
And here's the commercial, too:
(plane into North Tower. Giuliani in street, hustling about lower Manhattan in WT collapse aftermath.)
Voice-Over: "He was there on 9/11. Up close, too close. He wore 9/11 dust that day. Got it into his lungs, breathed it, coughed it up--just like the firemen and first-responders. And he was there after 9/11. He has lived 9/11 ever since. When you see images of 9/11, you think of him; when you read about about 9/11, you think of him, when you even THINK of 9/11, you think of him. Rudy Giuliani. He IS 9/11."
(Rudy on-camera, respirator over mouth, slightly garbled:)
"I'm Rudy Giuliani, and I--(coughs)--approved this message."
Outrageous? Not hardly. Giuliani did, after all, say this past summer that he inhaled all that awful World Trade Center stuff and now ran the same risk as those actual rescuers, some of whom actually are beyond the "risk" stage and actually are suffering from actual illnesses they incurred.
As Sen. Joe Biden said of Giuliani in the best line of last night's Democratic debate at Drexel U.,
"His message consists of a noun, a verb, and 9/11."
May Rudy Giuliani choke on his message. It will serve him right. Without 9/11, his candidacy would be as ludicrous as it would have been on 9/10.
And here's the commercial, too:
(plane into North Tower. Giuliani in street, hustling about lower Manhattan in WT collapse aftermath.)
Voice-Over: "He was there on 9/11. Up close, too close. He wore 9/11 dust that day. Got it into his lungs, breathed it, coughed it up--just like the firemen and first-responders. And he was there after 9/11. He has lived 9/11 ever since. When you see images of 9/11, you think of him; when you read about about 9/11, you think of him, when you even THINK of 9/11, you think of him. Rudy Giuliani. He IS 9/11."
(Rudy on-camera, respirator over mouth, slightly garbled:)
"I'm Rudy Giuliani, and I--(coughs)--approved this message."
Outrageous? Not hardly. Giuliani did, after all, say this past summer that he inhaled all that awful World Trade Center stuff and now ran the same risk as those actual rescuers, some of whom actually are beyond the "risk" stage and actually are suffering from actual illnesses they incurred.
As Sen. Joe Biden said of Giuliani in the best line of last night's Democratic debate at Drexel U.,
"His message consists of a noun, a verb, and 9/11."
May Rudy Giuliani choke on his message. It will serve him right. Without 9/11, his candidacy would be as ludicrous as it would have been on 9/10.
Monday, October 22, 2007
I'm Cook-ed. You?
The Red Sox advance to the World Series.
The Rockies advance to the World Series.
Does Dane Cook have to advance to the World Series, too?
We all agree that there is only one October.
Now can we please enjoy it without him?
The Rockies advance to the World Series.
Does Dane Cook have to advance to the World Series, too?
We all agree that there is only one October.
Now can we please enjoy it without him?
Saturday, September 29, 2007
It's Fall: Line up.
Well, it’s that time again. The candidates are making their best pitch. Can the lure of change and something new lure people away from the familiar? Everywhere there is buzz and spin. The debates are proliferating, and in the morning around the water cooler and amongst the cubicles, the best moments, the merits and flaws are all picked over with passion and detail.
Campaign ’08? No, the new fall TV season in America.
No living American who is ambulatory and taking nourishment can escape the networks’ promotional onslaught.
Literally.
Last year, for instance, CBS invaded refrigerators to use “egg-vertising, “ a process by which eggs can be laser-printed. (“CSI: Crack the Case!”) The saying used to be, “You can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs.” Now it’s, “You can’t make an omelet without checking some TV time slots.” Advertising on your food. Sounds like a kitchen nightmare. Oh, wait -- that’s an actual new show this season on Fox. (Wednesdays at 9pm.)
There’s even news amidst the new programming. Or promotion masquerading as news. It’s hard to tell anymore.
Surely you’ve caught some of the uproar over CBS’s controversial new series, “Kid Nation,” a reality show in which 40 children (ages 8-15) struggle to govern themselves and create order in a desert town. Actually, sounds a lot like Baghdad.
But these are kids! Away from home, no parents, being cruelly separated into rude social classes. Are they being exploited? Are we reaching a new low? Are CBS network execs pinching themselves right now with all this free publicity? Yes, yes, and yes.
And if you think some of those Kid Nation kids’ parents made a pact with the devil to allow their children to be used like that, there is actually a new show this fall that is even more hellish in its premise. “Reaper” (which airs on something called a “CW”) is about a young man whose parents actually sold his soul to the devil before he was born.
As opposed to those “Kid Nation” parents, who sold their own souls for $20,000.
And speaking of money, some returning shows need to be updated. Who can afford to merely be a millionaire anymore? According to Federal Reserve figures, if you bought $1 million dollars worth of goods in 1957, you would need $7.3 million to buy the same goods today. “Who Wants to be a Billionaire?” would be more like it. Or perhaps, “Who Wants Free Healthcare?” Or, “Who Wants to Sell their Home for even Close to what you Bought it for?” Those are program changes that the average viewer could relate to.
Being a man, I am continually struck at how many new shows each season are centered around men acting like cavemen. From “My Name is Earl” (who spends every waking day working his way through a list of people he’s wronged), to “King of the Hill”, “Big Shots”, and “Two And a Half Men,” there is never any shortage of shows where men look and act like Troglodytes. In fact, this season the transformation back to knuckle-dragging Neanderthal is complete with the premiere of “Cavemen.” (ABC.)
“Cavemen” was inspired (not sure if that word can apply here) by a series of TV commercials for a car insurance company. Now that is some kind of successful promotion. Be prepared next year for, “Dancing with the Charmin Squeezers.”
And sometimes the shows mimic real-life in other ways. This season, “Survivor” goes to China where contestants will gut it out and rat each other out. A “Survivor” press release states that the show “had a government overseer with us at all times to make sure we didn’t desecrate the country’s image.” Presumably, the Chinese would prefer to do that themselves with killer toys, food, political repression, totalitarian censorship and environmental disaster.
But, its Fall, it’s a new TV season, and it’s all about escape and entertainment, after all.
For the networks, needless to say, it’s all about the “Numbers” (CBS), and making as much of that “Dirty, Sexy Money” (ABC) as they possibly can. But watching some shows, you can’t help but wonder -- “Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?” (FOX)
“Back to You.” (FOX)
Campaign ’08? No, the new fall TV season in America.
No living American who is ambulatory and taking nourishment can escape the networks’ promotional onslaught.
Literally.
Last year, for instance, CBS invaded refrigerators to use “egg-vertising, “ a process by which eggs can be laser-printed. (“CSI: Crack the Case!”) The saying used to be, “You can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs.” Now it’s, “You can’t make an omelet without checking some TV time slots.” Advertising on your food. Sounds like a kitchen nightmare. Oh, wait -- that’s an actual new show this season on Fox. (Wednesdays at 9pm.)
There’s even news amidst the new programming. Or promotion masquerading as news. It’s hard to tell anymore.
Surely you’ve caught some of the uproar over CBS’s controversial new series, “Kid Nation,” a reality show in which 40 children (ages 8-15) struggle to govern themselves and create order in a desert town. Actually, sounds a lot like Baghdad.
But these are kids! Away from home, no parents, being cruelly separated into rude social classes. Are they being exploited? Are we reaching a new low? Are CBS network execs pinching themselves right now with all this free publicity? Yes, yes, and yes.
And if you think some of those Kid Nation kids’ parents made a pact with the devil to allow their children to be used like that, there is actually a new show this fall that is even more hellish in its premise. “Reaper” (which airs on something called a “CW”) is about a young man whose parents actually sold his soul to the devil before he was born.
As opposed to those “Kid Nation” parents, who sold their own souls for $20,000.
And speaking of money, some returning shows need to be updated. Who can afford to merely be a millionaire anymore? According to Federal Reserve figures, if you bought $1 million dollars worth of goods in 1957, you would need $7.3 million to buy the same goods today. “Who Wants to be a Billionaire?” would be more like it. Or perhaps, “Who Wants Free Healthcare?” Or, “Who Wants to Sell their Home for even Close to what you Bought it for?” Those are program changes that the average viewer could relate to.
Being a man, I am continually struck at how many new shows each season are centered around men acting like cavemen. From “My Name is Earl” (who spends every waking day working his way through a list of people he’s wronged), to “King of the Hill”, “Big Shots”, and “Two And a Half Men,” there is never any shortage of shows where men look and act like Troglodytes. In fact, this season the transformation back to knuckle-dragging Neanderthal is complete with the premiere of “Cavemen.” (ABC.)
“Cavemen” was inspired (not sure if that word can apply here) by a series of TV commercials for a car insurance company. Now that is some kind of successful promotion. Be prepared next year for, “Dancing with the Charmin Squeezers.”
And sometimes the shows mimic real-life in other ways. This season, “Survivor” goes to China where contestants will gut it out and rat each other out. A “Survivor” press release states that the show “had a government overseer with us at all times to make sure we didn’t desecrate the country’s image.” Presumably, the Chinese would prefer to do that themselves with killer toys, food, political repression, totalitarian censorship and environmental disaster.
But, its Fall, it’s a new TV season, and it’s all about escape and entertainment, after all.
For the networks, needless to say, it’s all about the “Numbers” (CBS), and making as much of that “Dirty, Sexy Money” (ABC) as they possibly can. But watching some shows, you can’t help but wonder -- “Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?” (FOX)
“Back to You.” (FOX)
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Win, Or I'll Jump!
I didn't want it to get to this point. Leaving a note from high up here on the Tobin Bridge. Funny, I can even see Fenway Park from here. Funny? What am I saying? Maddening, is more like it.
Not that I don't have plenty of company up here. It seems like half of Red Sox Nation is trooping up here. We'll have to jump in shifts.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Back in the balmy days of May and June, the Sox were cruising, safely in first place and up by as many as 14-1/2 games over the hated Yankees. Life was sweet. It was even sweeter watching Joe Torre's face turn more and more sour night after night. Ha! Even signing Roger "the Retro Rocket" Clemens wasn't the silver bullet the pin-pricked pinstripes were looking for.
Then came late summer. And early fall. And suddenly the Yankees were winning night and after night and the Sox are folding like a cheap chair under Pavarotti, may he rest in peace.
Why do I feel like I have seen this particular horror film before? Because I have. Almost exactly 30 years ago to be exact. That was the year (1978) that the Sox also blew a 14-game lead to the Yanks, then, in a fateful one-game playoff, disappeared entirely thanks to the immortal Bucky "bleeping" Dent's homerun.
The Sox' lead has once again all but vanished. (A mere game-and-a-half, as of this writing.) A key difference now, as opposed to then, is that the Sox are already assured of a playoff spot thanks to the perverted wrinkle of the wild card. Shouldn't that be good enough? Frankly, no. The Sox have finished second to the Yankees 8 of the last 9 seasons. Enough is enough.
We thought, naively, it seems to have turned out, that we had banished and fully exorcized the ghosts and curses in that magical year of 2004. Turns out that curse, or whatever it was, may be as hardy as a New England winter, with the shelf life of a Twinkie. It lives.
So, here I am, up on the Tobin. There are those who counsel restraint; why not wait for this last week of the season to play out before doing anything this drastic? Great--just when I had finally secured a primo spot right on the railing.
Fine.
Win. Or I'll jump.
Not that I don't have plenty of company up here. It seems like half of Red Sox Nation is trooping up here. We'll have to jump in shifts.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Back in the balmy days of May and June, the Sox were cruising, safely in first place and up by as many as 14-1/2 games over the hated Yankees. Life was sweet. It was even sweeter watching Joe Torre's face turn more and more sour night after night. Ha! Even signing Roger "the Retro Rocket" Clemens wasn't the silver bullet the pin-pricked pinstripes were looking for.
Then came late summer. And early fall. And suddenly the Yankees were winning night and after night and the Sox are folding like a cheap chair under Pavarotti, may he rest in peace.
Why do I feel like I have seen this particular horror film before? Because I have. Almost exactly 30 years ago to be exact. That was the year (1978) that the Sox also blew a 14-game lead to the Yanks, then, in a fateful one-game playoff, disappeared entirely thanks to the immortal Bucky "bleeping" Dent's homerun.
The Sox' lead has once again all but vanished. (A mere game-and-a-half, as of this writing.) A key difference now, as opposed to then, is that the Sox are already assured of a playoff spot thanks to the perverted wrinkle of the wild card. Shouldn't that be good enough? Frankly, no. The Sox have finished second to the Yankees 8 of the last 9 seasons. Enough is enough.
We thought, naively, it seems to have turned out, that we had banished and fully exorcized the ghosts and curses in that magical year of 2004. Turns out that curse, or whatever it was, may be as hardy as a New England winter, with the shelf life of a Twinkie. It lives.
So, here I am, up on the Tobin. There are those who counsel restraint; why not wait for this last week of the season to play out before doing anything this drastic? Great--just when I had finally secured a primo spot right on the railing.
Fine.
Win. Or I'll jump.
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