Sunday, March 30, 2008

Back Soon

DIH has been light on the blogging lately. She is in New York for a family event. That is the nicest way she can think of to describe the rotten, crummy, tragic death of a young in-law.

She will return tomorrow.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Nunc Dimittis

Still the best rendition DIH has ever heard. From the end credits of John Le Carre's "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy."

Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace
According to Thy word!
For mine eyes have seen Thy salvation
Which Thou has prepared before the face of all peoples
To be a light to the Gentiles,
And to be the glory of Thy people, Israel.

In loving memory of Norman Ferren.

Maybe She Just Leads A Rich Interior Life

I don't think even that "lucky scarf" is going to help her out of this one.

How Cool Is This?

Vatican's Triduum celebrations Chinese themed

Vatican City, Mar 24, 2008 / 10:21 am (CNA).- The situation of China’s Roman Catholics was at the heart of the celebrations for the Holy Triduum at the Vatican, with a group of Chinese people being present and decorations appearing at different moments during the Church’s three holiest days.

On Good Friday, the first of the three days, the meditations for the Way of the Cross at the Roman Coliseum were given by Cardinal Joseph Zen Ze-Kiun of Hong Kong.
A brochure published by the Vatican to accompany the event was illustrated with Chinese artworks representing each of the 14 Stations of the Cross.

Also, a Chinese man and woman were scheduled to pass the Cross to the Pope at the 12th station. The Pontiff would carry it for the final three stations. Nevertheless, because of the heavy rain, the Cross was carried during the final leg by Cardinal Camillo Ruini, the Pope's Vicar for the City of Rome.

The meditations for the Via Crucis written by Cardinal Zen evoked the suffering and sacrifice of modern day martyrs who are persecuted for the faith.

In his meditation for the first station –“Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane,” Cardinal Zen quoted Pope Benedict's 2007 letter to Chinese Catholics, which recalls that in many parts of the world, the Church “is going through the dark times of persecution.”

In his meditation for the fifth station -"Jesus before Pontius Pilate”- the Chinese prelate prayed that God would awaken the consciences of the many people in power so that they “recognize the innocence of (Christ's) followers. Give them courage to respect religious freedom.”

Even though China was not specifically mentioned during the meditations, Cardinal Zen told Vatican Radio that, by selecting him for the job, “the Holy Father wants Chinese Catholics to be very much present at the heart of the Universal Church.”

Finally, during the Easter vigil on Saturday, one of the seven adults Pope Benedict received into the Church through the Sacrament of Baptism was Chinese.

The Vatican has not had official diplomatic relations with China since 1951, but according to the Rome-based news agency I.Media, a group of Chinese officials traveled to Rome and held meetings with Vatican authorities on Tuesday of Holy Week. The unconfirmed talks were planned long before the outbreak of violence in Tibet, the agency said.
[h/t Pewsitter]

Monday, March 24, 2008


Divine Mercy Sunday is next Sunday. For those who would like to follow the novena (which is on Day 4 already- DIH is always a latecomer to novenas), this website:

should be helpful.

You Know It's A Slow News Day When...

The LA Times runs two front-page obituaries of the same guy:

"Obituaries »
• Al Copeland, flamboyant founder of Popeyes fried chicken chain, dies at 64
• G. David Low, 52; Astronaut served on three shuttle missions
• Al Copeland, 64; founder of Popeyes Chicken"
(LAT Monday Marc h 24)

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Happy Easter!

Well, let's see. I make it another seven inches out there. Of snow, that is. And it's still coming down. So much for the "strappy little sandals" school of appropriate Easter footwear.

In DIH's very earliest days it was common even for kids in huge families like ours to get a new outfit every Easter. This was a nice, dressy-up thing you were only allowed to wear to church. Your "Easter outfit," we were told, hearkened back to the white robes the newly baptized were given in the ancient church. So it wasn't just fashion, it was Tradition.

Then along came Jimmy Carter. Who, you will recall, beat the American economy to death with a crowbar. The highest rates of inflation since the Civil War. That was the end of out family blithely buying al the kids new clothes at Easter for a while. So much so that my baby sister, overhearing my mom use the phrase "Easter outfit" one day, asked what an "Easter outfit" was.

Last week I was in one of my favorite cheapo stores and I saw this flowery, film, springtime colors skirt. Ooh, I thought. An Easter outfit!

Wishful thinking took over. I found it in my size and carted it to the checkout.

"Nice skirt," the veiled Somali girl at the register remarked.

"Yes," I said. "Perfect for Easter."

Our eyes met.

"Well," I added, "maybe not Easter here, but..."

She laughed. "Enjoy," she said.

We were going to have company for Easter dinner but they're all down with flu.
We love Minnesota. We really, really do.

Happy Easter, everybody.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Holy Saturday

Today is Holy Saturday.

Holy Saturday always made me feel a little odd. The tomb is sealed; the stone is in place; Jesus is gone. It's like the whole world is filled with- nothing. There's no reason to do anything, feel anything, hope anything. Everything is dead.

The emptiness of the tabernacle fills the universe.

Without Christ we're all just drifting, in no particular direction, for no particular reason.

I never know what to do with myself on Holy Saturday.

Election Update

[update on the Update: Michigan finked out on the do-over. You gotta love state legislators, am I right?]

Friday, March 21, 2008

Thoughts for Today

Paul Scofield

Cardinal Wolsey: That... thing out there; at least she's fertile.
Sir Thomas More: She's not his wife.
Cardinal Wolsey: No, Catherine's his wife and she's barren as a brick; are you going to pray for a miracle?
Sir Thomas More: There are precedents.

-A Man for All Seasons, 1966.

British actor Paul Scofield died Wednesday at the age of 86.
DIH is going to miss that voice.

Monday, March 17, 2008

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

The 17th of March was always a big day in DIH's family. Going in to the city to see the parade. Buying green bagels at Friedhofer's bake shop ("Erin Go Bragh Shalom"). Getting in trouble at school for wearing something green (out of uniform and we had a disastrous principal one year). So resorting to things like green nail polish.
Go ahead, make an issue out of that one.

I love Irish bars. But I was never one for going out on St. Patrick's Day. St. Patrick's Day is amateur night in Irish bars. Who needs a bunch of jocks who don't know the words to any of the songs? DIH prefers drunks with at least a reasonable amount of musical flair.

Thus her affinity for Irish bars. Back in D.C. there were some great ones. There was one near our apartment on Connecticut Avenue called the Four Provinces. Tons of fun and relatively quiet, except those nights when the kids from the Israeli embassy would show up and close the place. Then it tended to be a bit rowdy. Another favorite was shut down as a fire trap. When we moved out to Virginia we had the good luck of finding an apartment three blocks from a terrific Irish bar with great music on weekends. Drunk driving was never a worry. Drunk walking, maybe, but not driving.

Here in Minneapolis things are different, obviously. Life has moved on and DIH is now a responsible parent type. which puts a certain kink in one's barhopping style. Also there are so many Germans here, it's harder to find anyone to whom March 17th has as much meaning as it has to me.

Oh well. Patrick is still a greatsaint, and his feast is still a joyful one.

Happy St. Pat's, everybody.


Reactions among the congregation at Our Lady of the Control Freaks to yesterday's announcements were strong.

"I can't believe it," said 84-year-old Johnannes von Deutch. "I've been coming to this parish all my life, and this is the first time anyone's ever told me to stay awake. Is this from the Pope, or is it some new 'American bishops'thing?"

"One of the ushers told me I wasn't moving fast enough," an elderly man who wished to remain anonymous said. "What's the big hurry? I mean, where's everybody going anyway? Wisconsin?"

"Someone poked me in the back,"one woman sniffed. "Said I was talking too loud. Well, I didn't have my hearing aid on, so I said, "What?" and he yelled "QUIET!" So rude. Really, I was shocked. OLCF used to be such a lovely parish."

One man simply gripped his cane. "Let them try to take this away from me," he said. "Just let 'em try."

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Sunday Announcements

Good Morning. Welcome to the Church of Our Lady of the Control Freaks. Before we begin our mass today, a few announcements.

We are a growing parish, and we welcome people of all ages. But those of you over seventy present special challenges for the rest of us. We hereby request that you clean up your act.

Old people will no longer be allowed to nap in the Adoration Chapel. Other adorerers have noticed some of you slipping in a few z's. Not only does your snoring make a racket, but it sets a terrible example for our young people as well. Please consider others when in the chapel.

"Walkers" will no longer be permitted in church. Our aisles are narrow enough without being cluttered up by your contraptions. If you can't walk on your own, please find another way to get to your pew.

The table full of old people who routinely confiscate a personal carafe for Coffee Sundays- you know who you are- will cease immediately. The carafes are not yours and are not intended for private use. If you cannot break this habit we will have to break the table up. This is for everyone's good so please make an effort.

And stop muttering to yourselves. You may be deaf, but the rest of us aren't. We can hear you, and we are sick of it. Shut up.

We will have more announcements on the issue of age-appropriate behavior in church in the coming weeks. Thank you for your prompt attention in these matters.

Have a happy and blessed Holy Week!

Friday, March 14, 2008

I Don't Remember This Scene In Richard III...

Harbingers of Spring

Yesterday afternoon it must have hit 43 degrees. People were tearing off their clothes and dashing naked into the lake. No, not really. The ice on the surface hasn't melted yet, how could they dash in? Don't be ridiculous.

Still the weather was, for Minneapolis anyway, gorgeous. So my daughter and I went out for a walk.

Everywhere were signs of spring in all its Twin Cities glory. The rivers of water rushing into the sewers. The sloshy sidewalks, the mud puddles. And of course the surest sign of urban spring on the way: the dizzying array of potholes. Kiss your front wheel alignment goodbye, Minnesotans! It's spring!

We went to the deli for some ice cream. It was so pleasant we nearly took a seat outside. But we didn't, on account of not being crazy. Instead we sat at one of the new tables inside the almost-renovated shop and watched the minivans bumping in and out of the craters in the road.

We stopped in at the bookstore and chatted with the man who runs the place and the lovely young lady (the owner's daughter) who works there. We talked about how glad everyone was flu season seems to be on the way out. Not over, mind you, but on the way out.

Then we walked home. And, finally, we saw a single robin redbreast.

That's when we broke into cheers.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Remember, Eliot Spitzer Was NOT Homeschooled

Wassup, homeschool homies?

From Today's Headlines:

"Minnesotans push on towards Iditarod finish"

"As dog teams in Alaska start crossing the finish line in the 1,000-plus-mile Iditarod race, several current and former Minnesotans are mushing on today in the sled dog marathon.

"Ken Anderson, who graduated from Forest Lake High School and moved to Alaska in 1993, is fourth; Paul Gebhardt, who grew up near Glencoe and moved to Alaska in the 1970s, is eighth.

"Jennifer Freking, of Finland, Minn., who lost a dog over the weekend when her team was struck by a snowmobile, is 56th. Her husband, Blake, is 57th.

"Joe Gans, who graduated from Chaska High School in 2003 and now lives in Alaska, is 59th; Jake Berkowitz, who grew up in St. Paul and now lives in Michigan, is 61st; and Richard Savoyski, who grew up in Chanhassen and now lives in Alaska, is 79th."

I don't know what to make of this last paragraph:

"John Stetson of Duluth dropped out last week after one of his dogs died of pneumonia."

Template Trouble, Continued

I still can't get my template to cooperate. [Aside to Joke- I took your advice and emailed that blog designer but haven't heard back yet.]

This is too bad, as I reall want to beg people to vote for me in the Catholic Blog Awards. I'm , ahem, a nominee, don't you know. In three categories. Please go to www.catholicblgawards and vote for me, me, ME.

Anyway while fighting with my template and cruising the net I keep coming across blogs that are too good to miss, and I have to share one of them here:

This is a smart, well-written blog by a - get this- devout Catholic football player at Yale University. The sort of thing that gives one hope. It's a little sporadic so dont' expect immediate updates, but it's worth a read.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Eliot, You Idiot

Let me guess. You were putting the "super" in Superdelegate, am I right?

What, there was no one working in DC that night?

Or do you have a thing for bringing the Feds in, legitimately?

The Mayflower, for Pete's sake. Why didn't you just pitch a tent on the White House lawn?

I hear the lobby of Morton's is real private, too.

What do you get for $4,300, anyway?

You know, time was you heard the word "Princeton" and you thought, "pretty smart." But now....

Lenten Reflections

Lent is a quiet time for DIH. Literally. I give up two things: talk radio and talking to myself. Giving up the radio is one thing, but giving up the self chat is murder. The silence around here is deafening.

But today DIH will have a special Lenten opportunity. To wit: the four-month-old labrador puppy ate an entire pan of freshly baked apple crisp last night. Let's just say it's been- an interesting experience.

Luckily there seems to be a thaw in the air. This is big news in Minnesota. Yesterday my daughter came home from school, breathlessly wanting to know what a "thaw" was. So apparently the weather forecast was big news on the schoolyard.

After taking the dog out many, many times in the night, this morning I have finally been able to survey the damage in my yard. All I can say is it's a damn good thing for that dog it's still Lent.

But I can deal. It's nothing DIH and a shovel and a hazmat suit can't handle. In the mean time the dog is on a broth and rice diet until things stabilize. Which I hope will be soon. The weather forecast for tomorrow features snow and freezing rain. There are certain penances DIH is not anywhere near spiritually advanced enough to offer with a good heart.

Monday, March 10, 2008


We turned the clocks ahead yesterday. We were supposed to do it Saturday night but we forgot. We were too busy eating pizza and watching "Barbie: The Nutcracker." Which, by the way, is not half bad. They seem to have paid a famous Hollywood script doc a bundle to deliver a good story. Worked.

Needless to say DIH has had screenwriting on the brain ever since.

Anyway last night was a school night. And we were virtuous about it. Uniform pressed, baths taken, in bed on time, no TV, reading in bed allowed though (Nancy Drew for Sophia, Agatha Christie for me).

And once again virtue was its own reward. I could not sleep. All night. When you find yourself contemplating mattress brands at 4 am, that's not good.

So this morning. Up at 6, coffee made, daughter roused, daughter's crankiness soothed, in the car, off to school. On time.
Then I came home and sat down on the sofa and the next thing I knew it was 10:30.

But do not think DIH was goofing off, even in her sleep. Oh no. I dreamed an entire movie. It featured Jake Gyllenhall as part of a three-man "Cowboys for Kids" team, a talking mouse who had lost his voice trying to scream for help, and a traumatized little boy.

This is either really sick or genius. Oscars, here I come.

Sunday, March 09, 2008

The Love That Cannot Keep Its Trap Shut

When I first heard about this year's "Day of Silence," coming to a junior high near you on April 25, I got all excited.

At first all I knew about the DoS was simple: This was a gay thing! And they were promising to keep quiet for a day! A WHOLE DAY!

I was practically dancing. "I don't know who you guys are, but bless you! For years I've been waiting for this day! One whole day and no gay activists whining about how oppressed they are! One day of NOT having to listen to skinny bald guys bitching into their cell phones about how the market's out of radicchio again! A day of NOT having to listen to any of that! Hurrah!"

Then I went to the website.

From the website:

"Founded in 1996, the Day of Silence® has become the largest single student-led action towards creating safer schools for all, regardless of sexual orientation, gender identity or gender expression."

It turns out the "Day of Silence" is a program for schools. Kids in middle school though college are being asked to take a vow of silence for one day. Instead, according to the website:

"Students will hand out "Speaking Cards" which say: - "Please understand my reasons for not speaking today. I am participating in the Day of Silence, a national youth movement protesting the silence faced by lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and their allies. My deliberate silence echoes that silence, which is caused by harassment, prejudice, and discrimination. I believe that ending the silence is the first step toward fighting these injustices. Think about the voices you are not hearing today."

Now, don't get me wrong. Lord knows DIH is all in favor of schoolchildren practicing their silence skills. Heck, I wish they'd have a "Day of Silence" every week.

But -- are they kidding? Gays are harassed by silence? Like they don't make enough racket all by themselves? The schools, the news media, the film/theater/books pages aren't packed to the gills with gay crap every day?

If only.

Anyway if you want to read more about this- and I don't blame you if you don't- their website is at

Friday, March 07, 2008

Thursday, March 06, 2008

Farewell to the Fish

Ah, Lenten Thursdays. The day of the week when DIH used to say to herself, "Well, at least I don't have to make dinner tomorrow- we'll go to the Fish Fry!"

The Fish Fry is held every Friday night in Lent in the basement of our parish church. We used to look forward to it. It was cheap, it was fun for kids to eat with their friends, it was a simple way to get your family to go to Stations of the Cross together, which was held immediately after dinner time. The food wasn't bad, either, if you like things of a deep-fried and mayonnaisey nature. All in all not a bad deal.

Alas, DIH must say farewell to all that. They seem to have removed the "fun for kids" element, and once that goes, well, say goodbye to the whole "good deal" thing.

After my happy break in Hawaii we thought it would be fun to hit the Fish Fry. You know, see friends, reconnect with the community, all that jazz. So off we went.

Within a few mintues, it was apparent to us that something was different.

The first thing we noticed was the tables. They felt oddly crowded. Further examination revealed the tables had been staggered, leaving no long, clear aisles between them. It turned out this was done on purpose. "The kids always run throught he ailes amking aracket," the fish authorityes said. "This way they cant' do that. This is the first time we havent' heard them yelling all through dinner."

Fair enough. But then we noticed the nursery was locked up too.

"No kids in the nursery tonight," the fish folk declared. "They use that room as a portal." (By which I think they must have meant "passthrough." If the nursery was a portal then what they needed was an exorcist, not a fish fryer. I hate to think what other worlds my daughter's been visiting when I'm not looking.) "This way they can't run through there, either." "And they always make such a mess," one fish fryer added.

So there were no kids hanging around the children's room watching videos, no kids running the length of the hall, no kids leaving Legos on the floor of the nursery.

Instead there were kids hanging on their parents' elbows, saying that they were finished with their food and they wanted to go home. Now.

This turned the formerly chummy evening into something of a drag, at least for parents. The people without kids could have been perfectly happy, for all I know. Although I must say I didn't notice the place being significantly quieter than it has been on other Friday nights.

Well, DIH predicts further happiness in store for them, because, speaking as a parent, I got the message. The Fish Fry is no place for kids, unless they sit quietly and eat their batter-dipped dinners and leave quietly. Which, as we all know, is exactly the frame of mind every child is in on a Friday night when school is finally out and there are two whole days of freedom in front of them. And you parents whose kids don't behave like Little Lord Freakin' Fauntleroy, well, you're just a bunch of slackers. Get off your lazy butts and make with the etiquette lessons. Otherwise no more fine dining for you.

Why Dogs Are The Greatest

Okay, Okay, I'll Open the Damn Mail Next Time

Franken campaign says he'll pay NY workers' comp fine

Associated Press

MINNEAPOLIS - Democratic Senate candidate Al Franken will pay a $25,000 fine to the state of New York for failure to carry workers' compensation insurance, his campaign said Thursday.

The New York Workers' Compensation Board levied the fine against Alan Franken Inc. in August 2006, for not having the insurance from June 2002 to March 2005.

The state said it sent numerous notices to Franken's New York address, but Franken's campaign said he only learned of the fine this week after it was reported by a blogger. Franken moved to Minnesota around the time the fine was levied.

Jess McIntosh, a campaign spokeswoman, said payment would be sent along with a letter that "says we believe this may be in error." Franken's accountant will look into whether the fine should be appealed, she said.

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

And In Other News:

Minneapolis Star Tribune, Wednesday March 5:

"Franken faces $25,000 workers' comp penalty
"DFL Senate candidate Al Franken owes a $25,000 penalty to the New York State Workers' Compensation Board for failing to carry workers' compensation insurance for employees of his namesake corporation from 2002 to 2005.

"New York officials have made numerous attempts to contact Franken about the matter since April 2005 but have gotten no reply.

"Campaign spokesman Andy Barr said that neither Franken nor his wife, Franni, were aware of the matter before Tuesday. They have lived in Minneapolis for the past few years and did not know about the state's attempts to reach them in New York City, he said.

"If it's wrong, they will pay what they owe," Barr said.

"It's also possible that there's some kind of dispute that may be resolved in our favor," Bar continued."

Funny. When DIH moves out of state she gets her mail forwarded. They always find me, too.

On Virtue Being Its Own Reward

Yesterday DIH bestirred herself once more and added more titles to her blogroll. Really. I did.

But for some reason Blogger will not let me update the template.

I go back to what I typed, it's still there, all correct. But the additions refuse to show up on this here blog.

This is not my fault. I don't think. Maybe I screwed up somewhere. Or maybe I just got too cocky with the whole "hey, this isn't as hard as I thought" mindset that came over me after I added the blogs the other day. Pride cometh before a setback and all that.

Well, it is Lent, so I'm up for a little lesson in humility here and there. But really, I was only trying to do the right thing.

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

...But What I Really Want To Do Is Write My Memoirs

First there was James Frey. Forced to admit he had made up and/or exagerrated chunks of "A Million Little Pieces," his bestselling "memoir" of drug addiction and illness. (You will recall how steamed Oprah was.)

Last week some lady in Eurpoe admitted fabricating her Holocaust memoir. Turned out she was never in a camp. Heck, she wasn't even Jewish.

Today the New York Times reported that "Love and Consequences," a memoir of growing up as a foster child in the gang culture of South Central L.A. by Margaret B. Jones, was in fact written by Margaret Seltzer of Sherman Oaks, California. Who was raised in her biological family, was never in a gang, and graduated from an Episcopal prep school.

That does it. I've got to go into the phony memoir biz.

I mean, look at the situation. There's obviously a market for the up-from-hardscrabble memoir. And if Ms. Seltzer's experience is any guide, there are also plenty of eager, willing and none-too-bright literary agents who would be only too happy to assist me in my climb to fame and fortune.

All I need now is a phony life to write about.

Fine. Easy as pie- uh, well,I'll look up the gang-style expression for that later. In the meantime, allow me to assembly my basic materials.

I grew up on the mean streets of Long Island. The home of dog-eat-dog shopping malls and ruthless competition for the best orthodontists. I got my teeth straightened, but it was no picnic. I know pain.
I went to a Catholic girls' high school. I been to Purgatory, man. And I came out alive.
To escape the hell that was LI, I went to an Ivy League college-- only to find it full of Long Island kids. Every time I thought I was getting out, they dragged me back in...

I'll work on this. I will begin to talk gang talk, no matter how ridiculous it sounds. The members of my Bible study group will herewith be referred to as my "homies." My 'hood is off Kenwood Parkway. Or maybe I mean my crib. Yeah, that's it: my 'hood is Kenwood, my crib is off the Parkway. I got a lab in my kitchen, I cook up Kona and Thai. Hot Thai. Lots of it. Yeah. You wanna score some Kona? I got Kona. It don't come cheap, but I got it.

Yeah. That's what i'm talkin' about. Word. Later. Your mama.


For this year's Catholic Blog Awards!!!

DIH has been nominated in three categories: Best Social/Political Commentary, Best Written, and Funniest Blog.

Please go to

and vote for DIH. In all three categories.

It can't hurt, right? I mean, come on. What else were you going to do tonight?

What America Needs

Think. Ohio. Think real hard.

Is this really what you want?


Sophia went back to school today. Little pink spots all over her little brown face, where the scabs used to be, and very self-conscious about them, but ready to face the world even so. Good thing, too: today is the second grade's pizza party. They won it last fall for raising the most money for the school. It would have been a real bummer if she missed that.

In other news today is the Ohio primary. Also Texas and a couple of other places. Which makes it another day to rejoice that one is a thousand miles away from any of the Clintons.

There's always a good thing in life somewhere.

Monday, March 03, 2008

Blogroll News

DIH has bestirred herself to update her blog roll. Note, at right, the additions of:

Iowahawk. If you're the last person on earth who hasn't read it yet, check out his Canterbury Tales parody. Take heart, all you English majors out there: you still have purpose.

Instapundit. For those who want to be smarter but prefer to let others do all the work, Instapundit is your man. Lift his stuff at your next cocktail party and you'll come off like a brainiac.

Ace of Spades. I've mentioned Ace before. He has this great slogan. It is really too bad it comes from Mencken, but still it's a great line. Also cool pirate logo. Also smart stuff, esp. international-wise. And never, never, NEVER skip his "Headlines."

Patterico's Pontifications. His slogan, "Harangues That Just Make Sense," is a sterling example of truth in advertising.

Michael Yon. The latest and the best on the war. 'Nuf said.

We Gotta Caucus

Saturday , March 1. Caucus Day.

8:30 am. Desperate Irish Housewife, Delegate for District 7-2, arrives at VFW Hall on Lyndale Avenue, across from gay coffeeshop and tae kwon do school..
8:31. DIH discovers donuts at far end of hall. Good times.
8:45 am. DIH takes a seat in section reserved for the ten 7-2 delgates. Only two other people are there, a guy in a blazer and a high school kid.
8:50 am. Discovery of better donuts at opposite end of VFW Hall. Good times once more.

9am-12 noon. Wait through various delays that will guarantee only the old geezers who've been running this thing for years will be elected delegates to state convention. Introduction of pre-printed ballots with only their names on them. Several delegates on the floor object that they never got a chance to vote on the nominees. "Oops," say the old geezers. They sure are sorry about that.

12:00 pm. High school kid mutters "This is so screwed up." DIH explains, gently, that in fact nothing is screwed up. Everything is going exactly the way the olg geezers need it to. You have to give them credit, they are one tenacious bunch. One thing they didnt' count on , though: the Ron Paul guys, who organize a revolt from the floor.

1 pm- 2pm. In a compromise engineered by and valiantly fought for by the Ronulans, everyone else is allowed to nominate delgates verbally. Secretary makes a big show of writing their names on a big white pad. Then everyone gets to vote.

3 pm. Everyone with a life gives up and goes home. Look for the geezers at the next caucus. They'll be there.

Sunday, March 02, 2008

Home Again

Ah, the sun. The breeze. The swaying palm trees, the pounding surf...

Huh? Wha? Oh, sorry. Fell asleep again. This jet lag's a killer.

Well, we're back in Minnesota after three lovely weeks in Hawaii. Actually my daughter would say two lovely weeks, the last eight days or so being taken up with chicken pox. Still she got to watch a lot of TV, a no-no at home, and we still got to watch a glorious sunset every evening. So no complaints here.

Re-entry has had its surprises. Finding the dryer full of clothes, for example. Clothes I sould swear I put in there right before I left three weeks ago. Don't even ask about the washer.

Well, at least it's March. Which means winter should be over in another six or seven, or eight, weeks.

There's always something to look forward to.