The Devil Made Him Do It

Nothing angers me more than parents who refuse to take responsibility for their actions. Say it with me: Bad parents ruin our classrooms, our community, our country.

Any drug addict, recovering whack job, troubled teenager or evil corporate whore will tell you the same thing: mommy and daddy suck.

I’m not saying I buy such an excuse from adults, because I don’t. Build a bridge, folks. However, we can learn a thing or two about the destructive decisions parents make and then our classrooms, our community, and our country will be a whole lot better because of it.

And safer.

But most people feel better blaming others because such deflection is easier and frees them from any and all accountability.

Speaking of which…

Ronald and Loretta Murray graced James Dobson’s radio program yesterday and today with crazy talk about their son and what might have driven him to murder.

At first, I was thrilled to see his parents come forward and answer serious questions about the tragedy. Then I remembered – it’s James Dobson, people.

And so it went.

Let’s see – the Murrays blamed their son’s violent rampage on his attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, bitterness for being an outcast, and Satan.

This line of reasoning, if one can call it that, holds the parents responsible for nothing.

Nothing.

Because they prayed.

How convenient.

This was a young man homeschooled since first grade, drugged with Ritalin since age 5, and who ultimately raged against the strict Biblical curriculum his parents used. He lived at home and even slept in his own bed the night after killing kids in Arvada and before driving to The Springs the next morning to kill some more.

His parents never had a clue. They didn’t realize he was armed and dangerous. They didn’t realize a whole lot about the son who lived and learned with them since childhood. The Murrays were dangerously clueless about a child they claimed to love and pray for every day.

And so what can we learn? Nothing, according to the Murrays .

Nothing except the power of forgiveness bestowed upon them by the victims’ family. The victims’ family also forgave the killer right away.

Guided by Christ’s love and all.

Apparently, there is absolutely nothing we can do about angry children who kill. Because of Satan. So keep studying that Bible! Worked so well for the Murrays , didn’t it?

The people buying this particular brand of bullshit are the same people who would be yelling from the rooftops about the importance of fathers if these killers were black and living in the inner city. Yet white, middle-class parents fail to see the part they are playing in all of this.

Self-delusion would be funny if it didn’t hurt so many of us.

I’m not surprised that two families devoted to evangelical Christianity aren’t interested in self-awareness, an honest evaluation of irresponsible parenting or an intelligent conversation about the effects of their faith on the unhinged among them.

But doesn’t their blind cluelessness just continue to let bad parents off the hook?

Again.

How convenient.

Laura Hagan Gets Her Baby Back

Municipal Court Judge Mike Graber gave in to whacko dog owners, their mean-spirited nonsense and death threats and is allowing an attack dog to go home with his owner as long as she follows some rules.

To hell with the neighborhood children.

"I'm trying to balance your rights and interests as well as the needs of the community," Graber told Laura Hagan. "If you don't do these things, it would be very serious."

I’ll say. A person could die next time. That’d be pretty g*ddamn serious.

To everyone but Laura Hagan, her supporters, and Mike Graber.

I’m Not Easily Manipulated. Are You?

The GOP must think Jews are a bunch of uneducated, easily-led mouthbreathers. Like conservative constituents or something.

But we’re not. So enough with the whole “Barack is no friend of Israel” nonsense.

Hey, Republicans - You’re losing ground and a black man is about to run the country.

Handle it. Or drop off the face of the earth.

Whichever you’d prefer.

Addiction Schmaddiction

Apparently within ten years, doctors will treat addiction as a disease. Which means, according to a recent Newsweek article, the sufferers will get medicine.

Better living through chemistry.

Once again.

Scientists and doctors are actively researching and using new vaccines (read: drugs) that will cure your addiction to…anything: other drugs, cigarettes, brownies, alcohol, maybe even that guy who won’t call but works it so well you can’t help but accept him into your bed every lonely, sad, Saturday night.

And so with this dependence on liquid courage, manufactured willpower, and pharmaceutical intervention, we take another step in the long journey away from personal responsibility.

A journey that will never bring us back.

We continue giving up our own personal power to a drug or drink and then pretend a new drug will somehow “cure” us. Unbelievable what people believe.

Addicts trading one addiction for another is nothing new. Smokers often give up cigs for cinnabons. Opium and cocaine were first sold as cures for alcoholism. Food addicts find new love with exercise equipment or extreme sports.

And then there’s Jesus. He’s the drug of choice for many people who made such catastrophic mistakes blinded by artificial highs that they now need the blinding high of forgiveness and redemption just to make it through each day.

Blind either way.

But fine. To a certain extent, whatever works. I’d rather someone put a “Beam Me Up, Lord” bumper sticker on their car and set out to convert the world rather than continue beating the wife and kids.

Whatever works is right.

But I’m afraid that if we focus on medicine instead of ourselves, we’re missing a golden opportunity. Whipping a demon is badass. Pulling yourself up by your bootstraps and ending a vicious cycle Grandpa started is something to treasure.

There’s nothing in a pill to be proud of.

If we become a nation or a people drugged out of self-awareness – how do we grow? How do we evolve?

Tests of character and strength make us stronger. Granted, there are people who fail such tests and wind up dead as a result. Okay. Drug them because the alternative is unacceptable. But many people who could find the strength within will choose the easier route instead.

Come on. Don’t pretend we’re not the laziest g*damn generation ever.

Remote controls, drive-ins, and Michael Bay movies are popular for a reason.

And how does this help the crystal meth or crack addict? They can't afford to treat their children's asthma much less pay for expensive solutions to their own problems. Solutions that don't make the colors in the sky "bug out."

New and more expensive drugs are not a way out of our drug problem. Addiction vaccines don't tackle the root of addiction; they simply mask the symptoms.

Which may be enough. For some. Cause drinking enough to choke a horse while screwing the same jerks over and again gets old. And sometimes it's better to just make the bad go away. Without developing the skills for how to prevent it all in the first place.

Everyone And Their Mother Has Seen This

But I've gotta run it anyway.

One of the comments over at Crooks and Liars made me think out loud:

But why would we want a bitch who firmly and confidently supported an illegal war in Iraq, who approves of cluster bombs, and is quite willing to support an illegal use of force against Iran? Don’t dignify her with the title, “bitch”. She’s a warmonger.

If Hillary had come out with straight talk like Tina - yeah, I've had to be tough over the years to get things done for you - maybe I'd be supporting her today.

But she didn't.

So I can't.

And it bears repeating that I'm no fan of Oprah. I'm supporting Barack Obama *despite* the fact that Oprah stuck her big arse in the race.

So there.

Twelve Hours I Won't Ever Get Back

I arrived at 7:45am and didn’t realize I was about to experience the longest day of my life. In a high school auditorium. Surrounded by way too many opinionated people. Who smell like essential oils.

The El Paso County Democratic Convention took place this past Saturday in downtown Colorado Springs.

God help us. God help us all.

Big props to John Morris, Chair of El Paso County Democratic Party. He’s used to throwing this intimate gathering for about 200 of The Springs' most dedicated yet demoralized Democrats.

Over 1700 progressives showed up this year. Progressives who are sick of the nonsense, excited about the possibilities and quite ready to rock.

Oh yeah. They were a handful. (Wait until you see the video.)

Some were veterans of the various liberal movements in town, but most were new to the dance. They had a certain optimism most old-timers couldn’t help but envy. An optimism that was contagious. Although this was my first county convention in Colorado, I’d been involved in enough events back in Florida to understand the trepidation so many people experience when television cameras flash their lights and the microphones come out.

Is it safe to admit to being a Democrat?

Oh hell yes, this year it is.

After speeches given by the likes of Ken Salazar, Mark Udall, and Hal Bidlack – seriously boys, call me – the crowd settled in for a day of nominating committees, counting over a thousand hands in the air, and witnessing steady beratements toward everyone from a*holes in the back known as “Balcony Boobs.”

Balcony Boobs were worse than the Hillary Contingent – tough types ready to jump on Obama fans given the slightest provocation - because Balcony Boobs arrived late and got stuck in the cheap seats.

Seriously though, Hillary Contingent. Much love.

My favorite audience member was a retiree from Michigan who sat next to me knitting all morning before heading home after John Morris promised nine more hours of “Sir, I move to question” and “So motioned” and “Only a half-hour for lunch? That’s barely enough time for one cocktail!”

In my defense, I was thirsty.

During afternoon activities, I sat next to a nice guy who's kids are pumped about Obama, behind a fun South Carolina activist who didn't hate me because I'd guessed Georgia, and in front of rowdy women who made me laugh.

Could have been worse. Could have been stuck with the Balcony Boobs.

At the end of the evening, we all split up into our House Districts to elect delegates to the State Convention. Each hopeful had to give fifteen-second speeches before The Vote. Several got up and promised to represent the unrepresentable. One woman claimed to be disabled, a few bragged about their youth, and several were former Republicans who switched in time specifically because of Obama.

Even in our relatively small House District, people weren't playing around. You were to *sell yourself*. Tell them *why* you should be one of the few, the proud, the delegates.

Newbies who wanted to go to the State Convention looking for a date or a good time didn't get the votes needed. These people were motherf*ckin' serious. And you'd better be, too.

Then it was my turn. And for once, I didn’t know what the hell to say. So this came out of my mouth,

“I’ve been a precinct captain and active politically since Dukakis. That alone ought to get me the sympathy vote.”

Take that College Boy and Wheelchair Lady.

“As far as which group I represent, take your pick. Female. Vegetarian. Irish descent. Practicing Jew.”

Crickets.

Tough crowd.

“But do you like Guinness?” a guy asked.

“Free Guinness,” I said.

They voted me in.

Victorious, I sat down.

Then it hit me.

“Shit,” I said to the woman next to me. “I've got to do this all again in May.”

I could've sworn Wheelchair Lady laughed and College Boy shot me the bird.

But maybe they were just happy to get out of there.

I'll never know.

Until I see them in May.

Colorado Springs Veterans Open Mic Night

Sponsored by: THE COLORADO VETERANS ALLIANCE and THE WARRIOR WRITERS FORUM

THURSDAY, FEB. 28, 8-10PM
POOR RICHARD'S RESTAURANT
324 North Tejon

Price of Admission: Free

Please consider bringing one or more of the following items for "care packages" for soldiers presently in Iraq and Afghanistan:
--New, unopened packets of razors,
--small cans of shaving cream, toothbrushes, toothpaste, combs, deodorant, bar soap, liquid hand sanitizer, wet wipes, etc.

Also, small snack items like:
--crackers, tuna salad, vienna sausages, sardines, beef jerky, chewing gum, candy bars, etc.

They'd also appreciate:
--Paperback books, small key-chain flashlights with batteries, notepads, pens, pencils, GI wool socks, GI t-shirts, etc.

And other things you may wish to bring suitable for soldiers far from home.

Like porn. That's what I'd want.

Everyone is invited. They especially want to hear from spouses, families, and friends of veterans about experiences with loved ones who are veterans. What was it like waiting for them to come home? What has it been like since they've been back?

Come talk about it.

Turns Out I’m An Inmigrant. Who Knew?

Disclosure: I write speeches and presentations for people with great ideas who don’t want the audience to fall asleep. So there’s that.

Thursday night, I ventured out to Bambino’s for dinner with my fellow Dems.

Remember what happened the last time I went to one of Allison’s meetings?

Right. I’m still trying to block it out.

Anyway, I avoided cheese and dirty looks and tried to enjoy myself. Glass of wine and someone mentioned they liked my site.

Good start.

Dave Gardner got up and gave an interesting talk about sustainability.

And when I say “interesting” think “Ben Stein on downers.”

Actually, Dave’s presentation wasn’t bad. Just dry. No rock and roll or double-entendres that make me get all perky and alert. Instead, Dave talked about growth and how the incentives given by local government to entice more people into this area are dooming us to disaster. I know, right? Thank God I had wine.

Plus, if we don’t act now, soon we’ll run out of water. And won’t that suck?

I would have applauded Dave’s courage to take on the folks migrating here from other parts of the country, but oh wait.

He’s talking about me.

Me.

So that makes me, umm, part of the problem.

Not that I’m offended. Actually, quite the opposite. I’d love to leave. And I’m working on it. But for now…how can I rail against growth without someone calling me a hypocrite and asking, “What about you, b*tch?”

Let’s face it. I’ve got enough problems.

Regardless, I’m on Dave’s side. Although, I would argue that Dave should “Michael Moore” it up just a bit with some humor and sarcasm.

Big fan.

Or maybe he should show off his legs. Sex sells after all.

If someone like me – a pseudo-vegan raising two vegetarians who walks to work every day, recycles and switched to green lightbulbs long ago – if I’m nodding off during his presentation, how in the hell are we going to get neocon, rightwing, meateating, Neanderthals on our side?

I hear Neanderthals like them some legs. So there’s that.

Another Brick in the Wall

Let’s face it, as concerned parents, we don’t always have the best options when deciding which schools to send our children.

If we even have a choice.

More often than not, we have to sacrifice something. For better or worse, we deal with the community in which we live; its strengths and weaknesses are often reflected in its public school system. And private isn’t much better.

I always chuckle when parents pay an arm and a leg for a house in the “best school district.” Those “best schools” are often filled with privileged children whose parents make excuses instead of instilling good work ethics. Teachers tend to inflate test scores and grades. And check the discipline records of those pristine institutions of learning. One word will repeat itself often: Drugs.

One such school in Colorado Springs has a teacher who marked a fact/opinion question wrong because the child answered “fact” to a question about evolution.

I sh*t you not.

A reminder to everyone that even the best schools require vigilance because even the best schools hire whacko teachers.

And what about whacko parents?

Another of The Springs “best” schools is The Classical Academy. I know several people who send their children to this charter school and overall they are thrilled with the education their young ones are receiving.

But last week, the director of the school’s board, Matt Carpenter, sent an email out to the entire TCA community reporting that he’s been targeted by an anonymous hater who threatens to reveal details of Carpenter’s personal life if “certain demands” aren’t met.

The fact that Mr. Carpenter told parents and local media about these threats says a lot about the man and his refusal to be bullied. Good for him.

I believe wholeheartedly in not catering to anonymous a*holes.

But the fact that Mr. Carpenter also felt the need to apologize for these details of his personal life (he says he courted his wife while she was married to someone else and even though he knows this isn’t how "God intended" it, he loves his wife very much) and *evoke God’s name* speaks volumes about this community and its sanctimonious residents.

I hope the parents and TCA community rally behind Mr. Carpenter and dismiss threats from someone who has no business judging anyone.

But if we don’t question the atmosphere in which this person feels so comfortable throwing such threats around, obviously convinced they'd be viewed a certain way within the community, such behavior will continue.

And, don’t get me wrong, middle class and poverty-stricken schools have their own set of issues. Like I said, as parents, we have to sacrifice something no matter where our children go to school.

I suppose, in the end, we all need to work for better choices and a better community because it’d be nice if the best schools in our area really were.

...from the Indy

(My hosting company had a ton of technical issues. Finally they fixed their issues so I'm just getting around to posting all my news.)

(Sorry for the delay. Or you're welcome. Whichever you prefer.)

On May 16-17, for the first time ever, Colorado Springs will host the state Democratic Convention. More than 10,000 Democrats from across the state and nation will visit Colorado Springs , many for the first time. And if, as many predict, Hillary Clinton and/or Barack Obama speaks, that number could grow to 20,000.

Three months later, Denver will host the Democratic National Convention, and 100,000-plus visitors, many of whom will travel to the Springs during their Colorado stay.

We'll have exactly one chance to make a good first impression.

Want to help? You can:

• volunteer at the conventions and events;
• help make them green;
• make your business a vendor.

To get started, spend time with Mike Dino, CEO of the Denver 2008 Convention Host Committee, and Sherry Jackson, Director of the Colorado Democratic Party, as well as others.

Wednesday: Feb. 27, 5-6:30 p.m.
Location: 190 South Cascade

Questions: renee@csindy.com

Hate it Here - Ongoing

Background: Had a wonderful pediatrician back in Florida. (Dr. Wilde. Wesley Chapel. Look him up.)

This past Friday, I took my children to our pediatrician here. We'll call this young, tall, blonde, and annoyingly obtuse woman Dr. Bimbo.

Because it's my goddamn site. That's why.

"Wow," Dr. Bimbo said. "You guys haven't been here since July. They've been pretty healthy, huh?"

"We've been lucky," I said.

She diagnosed Oldest with an ear and upper respiratory infection. Youngest with just the URI.

"No doubt in three days," I said. "Youngest will have an earache, too."

Dr. Bimbo laughed and agreed.

Tuesday night at bedtime, Youngest complained that his ear was hurting him. I wasn't sure, he could've been leaning on it wrong, so I told him to get some sleep and hopefully it would go away.

Kid woke up at midnight crying about his sore ear.

This is unusual and so it certainly doesn't take a genius (or even a bimbo doctor) to know what has happened.

I gave him hugs, kisses, rocking chair moments, Tylenol and started him on his brother's antibiotic.

That's right. You heard me.

Stop yelling at the computer. I'm not some new and nervous mother. This has been our routine for eight years. Oldest gets RSV and a few days later Youngest gets it. Oldest gets his tonsils/adenoids removed. Then Youngest gets his removed. Same with colds and infections. I usually call Dr. Wilde and he calls in a prescription.

Piece of cake.

Usually.

Not this time.

Dr. Bimbo wants to see him before she will prescribe anything. Can't fit him in for a few days, though. But he needs to come in anyway.

I tried to talk some sense into her.

"Are you high? We were just there on Friday."

"Ummm. My boys are identical twins. This has happened at least once a year for the past eight years. One catches something and then the other."

"As you can see from their medical history, we don't go for antibiotics very often. So this must really be something. As you can see from their medical history, we're hardly ever in there. SO THIS MUST REALLY BE SOMETHING. Do you even have their medical history?"

"By the time you have an opening, he'll have had at least four doses of his brother's medicine. Is it safe to assume that when you finally take a look, his ear will look fine? Is it safe to assume that if he stops taking medicine, his infection will come back worse? Is it safe to assume that if his brother runs out of medicine because you won't replace it, *his* infection will come back worse?"

"Is it safe to assume that dumb blondes really can graduate from medical school?"

"Seriously? A co-pay and insurance money are that important to delay Youngest's medicine and drag us in to tell us what, as his mother, I'm telling *you* we already know?"

"Do you want Dr. Wilde's phone number? As proof I'm not insane?"

"I hope when you finally have kids, your uterus falls out."

Needless to say, in the end, we had to find a new doctor who could squeeze Youngest in this morning. An older doctor who has grandkids and chuckled knowingly when I mentioned the nonsense we'd just endured.

Safe to assume we will never again visit Dr. Bimbo's bony ass.

And I meant what I said. Uterus right out of her body and on the floor. That's what I hope.

Fun Conversations With Eight Year-Olds - Ongoing

Every Jewish parent dreads the day the Holocaust comes up. However, I have to say, our first go at it wasn't so bad.

Me: What did you learn about in Hebrew School today?

Oldest: A lot. We learned about concentration camps.

Me: Oh? What about them?

Oldest: They put Jewish people in camps. We also learned about Anne Frank.

Me: What about her?

Oldest: She had very special diarrhea.

(long pause)

Me: I did not know that.

Oldest: She wrote about her life in a concentration camp.

Me: Oh. She wrote about that in a *diary* sweetie. Not diarrhea.

Oldest: Right. A diary. I knew that.

Me: Of course you did.

Ever Think of Sticking Hot Pokers in Your Eyes?

What about running for elected office?

Join Karen Teja and Progressive Majority for Happy Hour on Friday, March 7th at 5:30-7ish at 6325 Moccasin Pass Court.

Upside: Make a difference here in a community that desperately needs progressive voices.

Downside: Gotta appeal to the same people who believe Ted Haggard can be "switched" and I "perfected."

So good luck with that. Oh and RSVPs would be appreciated.

"Look, Ma! Jews in a can!"

We arrived home alive and married.

At several points during our long weekend holiday, neither ending was a foregone conclusion.

I will say this, as I looked out the car window at long open spaces filled with a whole lot of nothing and every once in a while a lone farmhouse with smoke coming out of its chimney, I wondered how such people could live so far from civilization.

"I'd feel isolated," I said.

But as our trip continued, I felt an overwhelming sense of admiration for rural folk. No Targets, restaurants, or Drinking Liberally groups. Just mountains, cows, and horses. The people who live in South Dakota and Wyoming have a rugged self-reliance with which I can't help but be impressed.

The Crazy Horse Monument alone was worth the drive. The sculpture, jutting out the side of a mountain, is huge. It's also not even close to being done. When asked about the date of completion, the sculptor's widow (who's working on it with seven of their ten children) said the date the monument is finished isn't important. What's important, she said, is that they work on it every day and progress is made. Work is a blessing.

Well, goddamn, doesn't that just about sum up life?

Mount Rushmore sort of paled in comparison. The Crazy Horse people are all about Mount Rushmore, surprisingly so. They even took one of its sculptors to create the Crazy Horse monument and they publicize Rushmore like Crazy. No competition or bitterness between the two opposing camps - one very much a white man's masterpiece and the other documenting the abuses of the white man.

Nice to see them co-existing in peace and friendship. The point after all.

Driving to see Devil's Tower was a bit of a b*tch. The snow was thick and heavy and we were the only ones driving the forty or fifty miles off the highway to see the damn thing.

Seeing it would have been nice.

We passed one other vehicle up the road to view the mountain that drove Richard Dreyfuss crazy. A pickup truck with a driver who was wearing a cowboy hat and a smile.

"Did you see him smile at us?" I asked Husband as we drove by at a whiplash-inducing eight miles per hour.

"Yeah," Husband said. "He's thinking, 'Lunch'."

One last thought - those who rant against Big Government never drove through a blinding snowstorm with a nervous Jewish cityslicker behind the wheel. After skidding around county roads with ice at least ten inches thick, you smile pretty f*cking quick when getting to the Interstate. At least that motherf*cker's plowed.

Over a thousand miles to see three things. Here ya go.



Yes. We made it home alive and married.

Neither of which was a foregone conclusion.

A Nice Guy Speaks

I have a friend named Alicia*. Alicia's ex-husband is kind of a jerk. He posted an explanation of sorts on his MySpace page. Claims women who never appreciated him are to blame for his jerkiness.

Jerk's explanation is all over the web. Read it here if you have ten minutes to kill and enjoy reading whine-fests from men acting like babies.

I live with a nice guy. Here's his response to Alicia's ex-husband.

Dear Recovering Nice Guy,

I’m troubled. I’m troubled by the mixed message that your soliloquy is sending. On one hand, you’re standing on your soapbox pontificating about how thoughtful, sensitive and wonderful you are: always there for a friend, buying presents, cooking dinner. On the other hand, you don’t even hide that fact that you did none of that out of friendship, care or concern. Nope. Your ultimate goal was to get laid. Impressive.

The picture you paint is that the “nice guy” is a dolt, getting laughed at, walked on, ignored and, oh horror of horrors, not receiving reciprocal “physical intimacy.” I’m going to ask you a huge favor: stop being typical. Think outside the box (pun intended) and do something for this society that will stop perpetuating bullshit. Stop being a nice guy. Just be a man. Progeny recapitulates phylogeny (look it up RNG), men beget men and so here’s hoping that if today’s recovering nice guys start acting like men, their sons will do the same and so on.

It’s not that tough. I’ll help you.

First, forget that your mom exists. She is/was wonderful and you love her. She imparted some fantastic wisdom and kindness. But she also cleaned up after you literally and figuratively. She blew your nose, wiped your eyes and bleached your dirty underwear. She made excuses for you when you acted selfish and fought your battles when your spoiled ass didn’t get your way. Because of this you automatically assumed that all females were put on this earth to service you and take care of your needs. It makes sense that you think you should receive physical intimacy because I mean, come on I BOUGHT HER SOMETHING! IF by some miracle, this doesn’t apply to you then your mom is worth her weight in gold because she took the path less traveled and was disciplined enough to make you a man.

Next. Try communicating. This doesn’t mean talking. It means talking AND LISTENING. Take an active interest in your significant other and what’s important to them. Even if it doesn’t make your top 10 list. Trust me, Sportscenter will be on again tomorrow so turn your new plasma television off and pay attention to your mate. I promise you it will result in something wonderful: being a team. Which brings up my next point.

Try being a team! Hey, congratulations that you cleaned up after yourself. Once. Just don’t brag about it to her as she’s rushing to get dinner made, after making sure the kids’ homework got done and that the house is presentable in case your friends come over all after a full day of work. Think about it: she’s going to reflect in kind how you treat her. Don’t get all pissy (read: feel guilty) that she’d prefer you read to your kids at night while she takes a bath when you ask her if it’s okay that you play World of Warcraft with your online buddies in Peru. It’s a win/win. She gets to decompress and you get some quality time with your kids. Trust me, they see you treating a female with respect so if they’re your boys, they’ll grow up to do the same. If they’re your girls, they’ll grow up and demand the same. See the pattern referred to above? So pitch in. Relieve her stress. It will relieve yours, too.

Which brings me to my final point. Do all of this because you want to. Do it because it’s right. Do it to set a great example. The physical reciprocation you crave will automatically happen. Just shower up and shave for pete’s sake.

A Nice Guy Who Gets It (pun intended again)

...but I'm a skinny b*tch.

I enjoy books that challenge what I think and feel, but sometimes it's nice to read a page-turner that validates my life choices. Makes me feel less alone in the world.

Plus I always welcome more ammunition when some know-nothing numbnut hears one of my kids has a cold and says, "Give the boy a burger!"

Skinny Bitch is such a book.


Not only did I nod nine hundred times and mumble, "Exactly!" but I also learned a great deal more about healthy food choices and the evils of the meat industry. Ammunition indeed.

It's not for everyone. Rory Freedman and Kim Barnouin use no-nonsense words to make their point and don't waste time sugar-coating the facts for sensitive souls who need to get their heads out of their fat asses in order to be healthy and skinny.

Sound familiar?

Before you blow the authors and me off as just another vegangelical, listen up. Here are some words of wisdom.

"This is not a diet. This is a way of life. A way to enjoy food. A way to feel healthy, clean, energized and pure. It's time to reclaim your life and body."

"Beer is for frat boys, not skinny bitches. It makes you fat, bloated, and farty."

"Soda is liquid Satan."

"Have no faith: government agencies don't give a shit about your health."

"Good heath, vitality, more energy, more confidence, better sex, great abs, a tight ass - you either want 'em or you don't."

Their reasoning against eating eggs and dairy didn't fall on deaf ears. I've suspected for quite some time that the bulge around my hips and sensitive skin problems were the result of my cheese and dairy addiction. Skinny Bitch was simply the impetus I needed to take control and stop eating these last two categories of animal byproducts.

I wouldn't say I'm a vegan now - because who knows when a milkshake might call my name? But I feel better already.

Before you think I've gone and slurped the last of the crazy kool-aid, pay attention. There were tons of advice to disregard. For example, they suggest you eat when ravenous. Not necessary. Make good choices and graze small helpings all day. Keeps metabolism working and the pounds are off in no time.

Skinny Bitch won't win any converts. The book is for women who are tired of eating crap and showering in the dark. It'll especially help women who don't feel as good as they could and want to change that. It's not about skinny, despite the title. It's about being healthy. Plain and simple. If you're ready to feel good and look even better, Skinny Bitch is for you.

The rest who want to continue to pretend that hamburger and brownie dessert tastes as good as being thin feels - keep kidding yourself.

I will say this, though: Starting a healthier eating regimen in South Dakota and Wyoming is not for the faint of heart. Two restaurants had never heard of soy and three didn't have fruit "of any kind."

I did it anyway, though. And you can too.

"Don't be a fat pig anymore. You know what you have to do, now do it."

h/t Becky

And I'm Not Sorry

"I'm not your b*tch, don't hang your sh*t on me."
-M

My posts in another venue have incited a few comments that are in keeping with a certain theme I've heard elsewhere from time to time. I thought I'd address said theme here once and for all.

I do not think I'm better than you.

There. I said it.

In fact, I'm not nearly as wonderful as *I* can be. So I certainly can't compare myself to anyone else.

But I am wonderful, to a certain extent, and when others read or hear an opinionated, confident, and strong-willed woman rant about a topic with passion and wit, well, they go apesh*t. Then they put all their own hang-ups on me, or try to. And I'm getting sick of it.

Certain people, especially other women, can't handle alternative points of view from someone who won't be bent to their way of thinking. They can't attack the topic at hand or facts presented, so they go after the person. Small minds and all.

"You're acting superior, high and mighty, holier than thou. You think you're better than me," they whine.

Give me a break.

I will admit this - my longtime readers, friends, and family are tough cookies. I don't attract weaklings. Most of you are secure and therefore not threatened by anyone.

The rest should take a long look in the mirror and recognize all that is brilliant and hot in the reflection. Then you won't begrudge others what you so desperately and transparently want for yourself.

I am bookending this post with two quotes that sum up any reaction to your insecure and petty remarks. Take yer pick.

And then learn to love yourself. No matter how difficult.

"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."
-E.R.

On the Road Again

In about seven hours, I will be traveling from Colorado Springs.

To South Dakota.

In February.

With a video camera and a smile.

Can't wait to see what I see.

Show me the way, badlands.

Include discrimination in the Florida Constitution? Never!

Here's a fun story.

Janice Langbehn, a resident of Washington, has a partner, Lisa Pond, who died in Florida a year ago:

"... Pond, Langbehn's partner for nearly 18 years, was stricken in Miami with a brain aneurysm and died. Langbehn, a social worker, said officials at Jackson Memorial Hospital did not recognize her or their jointly adopted children as part of Pond's family... Langbehn said she was informed by a social worker that they were in an 'anti-gay state' and that they needed legal paperwork before Langbehn could see Pond."
-The Olympian, of Olympia, Washington, June 17, 2007

Janice didn't get to say goodbye because, in the Sunshine State, her family relationship was refused any recognition even as Lisa lay dying.

In related news, retired Florida residents Ed Lessen and Clarice Pollock have been living in sin - err - together in a long-term domestic partnership "based on mutual love and respect" for 30 years.

"We want to be able to take care of each other and visit each other in the hospital, if it should come to that," says Clarice. "This amendment will take that away."

*This* amendment is Amendment #2. It'll be on the November ballot this year.

Vote No.

This is for Janice and her children, for Ed and Clarice and for all the others who need us to stand up and protect their right to care for their loved ones.

Vote with sanity, acceptance and love.

Then make a donation of $100 or more to Fairness for All Families. You cheap bastard.

Oh Sweet Baby Jesus - I Drove Through Texas This Past Summer

Could've been busted. In a big way.

My mother is already so proud.

Here are some fun and offensive subjects, for your Valentine's Day viewing...



God I miss Molly Ivins.

h/t QuakerJono is the Bomb

Hear Ye, Hear Ye

The Dems Club will be meeting February 21, 2008, at 6:00pm at Bambino's Restaurant. Eat all the pizza, pasta, and salad you'd like for only $10 per adult, $6 per child.

Guest Speaker is Dave Gardner and he'll be talking about the environment.

Because someone has to.

See you all there!

Smile - You're on Katie Camera!

A year and a half ago, my video camera was stolen out of our car as we prepared to move to Colorado for the first time.

I think they call that a sign?

This past Chanukah, we finally replaced the camera and therefore resumed documenting events like children’s birthdays, holiday celebrations, and passion party purchases. (Thanks, Fantasy Football money!)

This past weekend it occurred to me, in between takes, that I could upload videos onto my website as well.

Oh yes, let the games begin.

This brings us to Tuesday night’s Drinking Liberally meeting.

I know what you’re thinking...

- Alcohol.
- Depressed and bitter Hillary supporters.
- Cocky and loud Barack supporters.
- Alcohol.
- Kate walking around with a camera and a smile.

This all adds up to a rowdy good time.

And yet, no one got drunk. No one got loud. Hillary supporters were depressed and bitter, but what else is new? Overall, everyone was polite and well-behaved.

Slightly disappointing.

I did walk in and almost sh*t when the head of the meeting said she had a package for me that was delivered to the restaurant. Only when I noticed the return address did my heart begin beating regularly again.

Stogie sent me some promotional materials. I know, right? Good for him.

I passed out his bumper stickers and people took them. We were all so relieved not to be inhaling anthrax.

Hmmm. What else happened?

One DL member, Rick, still bummed after having to get rid of all those “John Edwards For President” pins, said he loves the pictures on my site. Then he looked me up and down (I was wearing a thick turtle neck sweater and overcoat. Have I mentioned Colorado is a frozen wasteland?) and asked, “Do you use a body double?”

Oh no he di-n't.

Where’s anthrax when you need it?

I also met Hal Bidlack. Hal isn’t officially running for the 5th Congressional District of Colorado until April. Right now, he’s finishing up 25 plus years serving our country as a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Air Force where his assignments included the National Security Council and Strategic Arms Reduction Talks at the Pentagon.

You heard me.

While Doug Lamborn was missing important Congressional votes and blaming it on faulty buzzers, Hal Bidlack was out in the real world protecting our country and fighting for our children and a better tomorrow.

Plus he’s yummy.

Check him out.


With all the negative press surrounding our elected leaders here in The Springs, wouldn’t a smart, funny, and charming representative be a nice change of pace?

This election season should add up to a rowdy good time. With or without alcohol.

And I’ll be there with my camera. Documenting it all.

How Do You Say "Assbags" In Hebrew?

On Saturday, February 23, 2008 at 6:30pm, Temple Shalom and Temple Beit Torah are sponsoring a terrific event and we hope you can make it.

This event is likely to have relevance for almost every Jewish person in The Springs as it will provide tools to help us handle situations where school, work, and other life events are scheduled on Shabbat, Jewish holidays, etc.

Handle these situations without using curse words, I mean.

Join us for Havdallah with Rabbis Glazer and Ehrlich, some desserts, and some enlightening conversation!

Please RSVP to the Temple offices (either one) and we hope to see you there!

Right. I've "Misinterpreted" Rush Limbaugh. Sure.

Yes or No - Which Is It Gonna Be?

Don't get me wrong. Republicans could have done a lot worse. A hell of a lot worse.



But isn't it sort of sad that the guy who sang "Bomb, Bomb Iran" is the *best* Republicans could do?

"It's Like a Peach."

It's official. They've gone and thought of everything.

Best. Valentine's Day Gift. Ever. (If the idea of women enjoying themselves with battery-operated machinery is offensive, then go away.)


I have a funny story about headphones and love toys. But that's another post for another time.

Fine. I'll settle for chocolate and dying flowers. Just don't take me to one of these restaurants for dinner.

h/t Robin and Michelle

Tomorrow Night

This is just a reminder that the new North End Drinking Liberally will have its 2nd meeting this Tuesday, February 12th, at 7:30pm at CHAMPP’S RESTAURANT AND BAR, located in the Shops at Briargate on Briargate Parkway (behind PF Chang’s).

The venue is family friendly, so young progressives and non-imbibers are welcome!

Bring your caucus stories to share.

Plan to meet in the upper part of the main dining area, since we exceeded capacity of the meeting room last time.

Happiness Is A Lot Like Pornography

The movement bringing happiness to every man, woman, and child is about to hit a major roadblock.

A recent Newsweek article predicts that the shiny happy people craze is ending. And maybe that's for the better because, according to experts, sadness can benefit us almost as much as happiness.

Americans' fixation on happiness, (Wilson) writes, fosters "a craven disregard for the value of sadness" and "its integral place in the great rhythm of the cosmos."

Wilson is correct. When nasty sh*t goes down - your favorite team loses the SuperBowl, a loved one dies, or your husband moves you to a godforesaken frozen wasteland where culture, education, and politics all revolve around bible study - then sadness is the appropriate response.

For a while.

Until it gets old.

After a few months you either need to build a bridge and get over it, find joy in unexpected places or pop a pill so people can stand being around you again.

Although, I'm related to a few unmedicated grumpsters and they're not so bad.

For a while.

Until it gets old.

But perpetual Pollyannas are just as bad. They look ridiculous - what with all the famine and disease and death going on in the world. Ignorance is bliss, after all. Who wants to be ignorant? Besides Mitt Romney fans, I mean.

But blissful ignorance isn't happiness. It's delusion brought on by too many hours in front of The Disney Channel.

The article, and experts, also confuse happiness with satisfaction. Check it:

"If you're totally satisfied with your life and with how things are going in the world," says Diener, "you don't feel very motivated to work for change. Be wary when people tell you you should be happier."

I am one of the happiest people I know.

There. I said it.

I'm also the least satisfied. I consistently seek to better the way I write, eat, exercise, work, parent, love, and humpty hump. I may not always succeed in improving, but it sure is fun trying. So happiness is not the same as being content, I'm living proof.

We don't wear happiness on our faces, that's for sure. It's deeper than that. True happiness lives in our souls and alters the way we look at people. It's the foundation and result of living a wonderful life and not always noticeable as we make our way in the world with a run in our stockings while managing the moods of five children under the age of ten.

Good thing sometimes. I have a friend who went through a nasty divorce. Attracted a ton of likeminded and seriously sad women. Then she found true love. Those aforementioned acquaintances ditched her like a bad dinner date. Company loves misery. I'd have zero friends if I walked around talking about my inner joy and a husband who cleans up after dinner. It's not acceptable even for a while. Gets old real quick.

Speaking of misinterpreting joy, recently some more experts decided, as QuakerJono put it, Democrats are miserable bastards and Republicans crap rainbows.

Right.

Again, happiness and ignorance are two different things:

I don't know whether Democrats follow world events more closely than Republicans, but they are, on average, better educated, and that might explain their glumness. People with advanced degrees report being less happy than those with only a bachelor's.

The article misses the point and teaches us nothing we don't already know. Awareness about the world's problems and actively seeking to better our circumstances has nothing to do with happiness. Such activists can be happy or sad, depending on the day. It's also not the point. We do good because we are required or compelled to do so. Happiness is the added bonus, not the goal.

So what is happiness?

I know it when I feel it.

Bottom line, seriously happy people are as delusional and irritating as seriously sad people. True and complete joy is to balance the time to weep, the time to mourn, the time to dance, and the time to sing.

Feel it all.

And then it never gets old.

Rush, Ann, Laura, and Sean Can Suck It

I know a few good and decent Republicans.

They live in Florida and Massachusetts. They do not live in Colorado Springs.

Republicans I've met here are simply aligning themselves with whomever will help them bring on a religious revolution.

However misguided, Real Republicans are wonderful people who always have our country's best interests at heart.

And I prefer their logic to all the assbags in this town who couldn't put a thought together if Jesus himself came back and demanded it.

Real Republicans don't approve of the Taliban's God. They don't approve of Israel's God or James Dobson's God either.

They prefer their own God and they visit Him in church or when they close their eyes at night to pray.

They don't want god in government and they don't want government in our wallet, bedroom, doctor's offices or family decisions.

Real Republicans are consistent. And logical. And although I disagree with most of their choices, I respect them.

I couldn't summon an ounce of respect for most of the assbags in this town if Jesus himself came back and demanded it.

Real Republicans prefer Abraham Lincoln and (gulp) Ronald Reagan to George Bush and Karl Rove. They know their history. And they won't be manipulated by divisive pundits who have a stake in keeping America divided. And they won't be manipulated by evangelicals or moronic Mormons who are attempting to turn this country into a Christian Afghanistan.

Jon Stewart was right, Mitt.


Fuck. You. And every one of your supporters. Especially here in the Springs.

Whatever decency existed - is gone. Not an ounce left.

And so real Republicans sent your ass packing, didn't they?

Because they want their party back.

John McCain is their nominee.


Cry and pray all you want, assbags. And then handle it.

I'm just relieved that not all of you are fucking insane.

Note to Hillary - Please Remove Chelsea From Your Breast

MSNBC's David Shuster suggested the Clinton campaign had "pimped out" Chelsea by having her place phone calls to celebrities and superdelegates. Hillary blew a few brain cells at the notion that her darling little hedgefund manager could be compared to a 'ho.

Hillary then threatened to never appear on the network or in their debates again. Which is just pathetic - on several levels.

Then MSNBC wraps up Shuster's balls and holds them hostage, making him appear almost as ridiculous as the Clintons.


Really, Hill? Aren't we just inventing sh*t to be upset about now?

David Shuster might be a douche. There's certainly nothing wrong with a grown woman campaigning on behalf of her mother.

But, if you're going to put your daughter out there - don't pitch a fit when someone criticizes her or you for it.

Jesus, ladies at The View made fun of her and nobody forced Whoopi to foam the next day about how "we all love Chelsea Clinton."

Give me a break, Clintons. Cut the apron strings and focus on something important.

Chelsea's a big girl now.

Go With The Flow

Over the last five years, the number of states that have adopted clean car standards has risen to thirteen, but EPA Administrator Stephen Johnson has cockblocked their legal right to implement these important standards.

While Johnson censors documents and silences scientists at the EPA, his deputy administrator, Marcus Peacock, is fooling around online.

Marcus is trying to improve “communication and transparency in government” through the use of a blog.

Wow. I thought Washington officials only used the Internet to score underage lovers.

In his Washington Post column last week, “Enough About Pollution Regulations; Here's a Riff on Amy Winehouse,” Al Kamen takes Peacock to task for glossing over key issues such as the clean car standards.

Peacock responded like a Washington Weasel:

I’m pretty senior and will be gone in a year. A good question is how do we encourage, rather than discourage, the rank and file in government to take risks and test innovative ideas?

Come on Marcus. *Pretty* is pushing it.

Please head over to the EPA’s blog and explain to Marcus that ignoring EPA scientists and analysts on an issue as central as global warming pollution from vehicles is not a way to “encourage risks and test innovative ideas.”

Not unless he bares his ass online or something.

Click here and you’ll be taken directly to the EPA’s blog, where you can voice your opinion directly to Marcus.

After you’ve commented, click here and send a copy of your comment to UCS. By giving UCS copies of your comments, they can make sure that the EPA is allowing an open online debate, not just trying to score women for Marcus, and they can post any great comments that get rejected by the EPA on UCS’s own HybridBlog.org!

The EPA’s blog is one of the few channels currently open for citizens to express themselves directly, and openly, to high-ranking EPA officials. Please take advantage of this opportunity to tell them what you think.

Fight the urge to ask for a date.

You Wanna Be a Republican?

I received this email yesterday, added a few naughty words, and made it my own.

If you do, in fact, wish to swing right, you must believe that:

a. Jesus loves you, your Christian neighbors and solid profit margins. He hates the environment, Hillary, and homos.

b. Saddam was a good guy when Reagan armed him and when Cheney did business with him. Saddam was a bad guy when Big Bush fought him and when Baby Bush needed a diversion from that whole “We Couldn’t Find bin Laden if He Was Shoved up Our Arse” thing.

c. Trade with Cuba is wrong because Cuba is a communist country. Trade with China and Vietnam is vital to both international harmony and buying cheap baby-killing toys at Wal-Mart.

d. The United States should get out of the United Nations - even though our highest national priority is enforcing U.N. resolutions against Iran.

e. Women can't be trusted with decisions affecting their bodies, but multi-nationals can be trusted with decisions affecting mankind. Without parental approval or a 24-hour waiting period.

f. The best way to improve military morale is to praise our troops on television while slashing veterans' benefits and combat pay.

g. If condoms are kept out of schools, teenagers won't have sex.

h. Providing health care to all Iraqis is sound policy, but providing health care to all Americans is socialism.

i. Global warming is junk science. Creationism should be taught in schools.

j. A president lying about a blow job is an impeachable offense, but a president lying 935 times to enlist support for a war in which thousands die is someone else’s fault.

k. Government should limit itself to the powers named in the Constitution. Which include praying in school, banning gay marriages and censoring the Internet.

l. The public has a right to know about Hillary's cattle trades, but George Bush's driving and military records are none of our business.

m. Being a drug addict is a crime, unless you're a conservative radio host. Then drug addiction is an illness and prayers are needed for *the patient* to fully recover.

n. Bill Clinton’s activities in the 1960s are of vital national interest. George Bush’s activities in the 1960s are irrelevant.

If a-n makes perfect sense - grab some scotch and bust a union - you're in.

And hopefully you'll be irrelevant for the next four years.

At least.

My Caucus

Twenty-one Democrats in my precinct attended the Colorado Caucus last night.

The last time a caucus was held, two people showed up. Therefore, twenty-one is considered a success.

Really, it’s a failure.

Back in Wesley Chapel, my home for almost six years, we had similar numbers of demoralized and conservative-Christian-fearing progressives. In our 2004 Democratic Primary, 150 voters came out and pulled the lever for their favorite candidate.

A pathetically low number, but better than the numbers here.

Voter turnout is one important reason we should do away with the caucus system and hold primaries instead. Primary voters get an entire day in which to take part in a process that lasts only a few minutes. In a caucus, interested party members must arrive on time for the 7pm straw poll or miss out entirely. Then they get to spend another hour or two listening to their neighbors argue over resolutions and whether Ernie the Neighborhood Drunk is fit to be an election judge.

After a long day of working and/or taking care of the kids, how happy do you think people were to crowd into a smelly classroom, sit and stare at me while I carried the nine and counted my toes trying to make the numbers come together on my Delegate Math Work Sheet?

Other friends who were stuck at more crowded caucuses had similar stories of tension and boredom.

One co-worker had to pay $22 for the privilege of volunteering as a delegate to the county assembly. That’s what she gets for registering Republican. I told her to cheer up; maybe she’ll get to kick Doug Bruce once for all of us.

An especially fun moment occurred when caucus-goers realized the straw poll wasn’t binding.

“You mean a delegate can attend the county assembly and stand for someone else? What’s to stop one of you from supporting Obama here tonight and then voting for Ralph Nader?”

What’s stopping me? Ummm. How about healthy brain cells and a bit of integrity?

Another co-worker told me about angry Edwards supporters who just couldn’t accept the fact that he’s no longer a viable option. Another colleague mentioned long-winded Ron Paul enthusiasts who wanted to argue until midnight because “this event should mean something more important than getting home in time to watch The Colbert Report.”

However, today our caucus is a thing of the past. Barack Obama and Mitt Romney won – which explains a lot about Colorado. Perhaps we’d have the same outcome if we were a primary state. Nevertheless, holding primaries is a more democratic way to ensure that as many as possible are involved in the process.

Of course, if Ernie the Drunk could fit a 7pm caucus into his busy schedule, what’s your excuse?

Florida Marriage Amendment Makes it to the Ballot

Just barely.

Barbara A. DeVane, Board Member of the Fairness For All Families Coalition and Florida Alliance for Retired Americans said,

"After 4 years of signature gathering the only surprise is how narrowly it seems they reached the minimum requirements. As Floridians come to understand that this measure strips away essential family protections, the more they are saying NO to the deceptively named amendment."

Fairness for All Families is a coalition of over 200 groups that includes seniors, business leaders, consumer groups and social justice organizations that are joining together to oppose a constitutional amendment slated for the 2008 ballot that would strip away existing employee benefits and enshrine discrimination in Florida's constitution.

For more information, visit this website and to take the pledge to vote "NO."

Super Something

I know - we're not really voting today. But "I Caucused" sounds rather vulgar and we all know I'm not about being vulgar.

I wasn't supposed to post until tomorrow, but aren't you glad the hotel clerk here in Denver said I could use *his* computer? For free?

Never fear, I'm going to get back to The Springs in plenty of time to caucus for Barack Obama tonight.

Do your part, local peeps.

And may the best man, or woman, win.

I Don't Even Want to Discuss Football

So read Chapter 3 and discuss Olivia's Kiss.

Or we can talk about Barack Obama if you'd like.

And by "we" I mean "you" because I'm on my way to Denver for a seminar that will leave me without the Internet until Tuesday evening.

After last night, I'm just a bit relieved not to have a dog in Super Tuesday's fight.

Have I mentioned that I grew up a Buffalo Bills fan? (I lived in Tonawanda, New York for about five minutes in the late 1970s-early 1980s.) When they made it to the Super Bowl, in Tampa no less, I was "Talking Proud" and all excited about the "one New York team" playing that day and told everyone they were going to "pounce" Parcells' Giants.

And then they didn't.

And then last night happened.

Have I mentioned how much I hate the Giants?

But we're not talking about that. We're also not going to talk about how I woke up this morning and how similiar it felt to the morning after John Kerry lost.

I'm out.

Discuss important issues amongst yourselves. Or my story. Whichever you prefer.

Annie - Come Out of the Closet

Seriously, she is one of the most miserable people out there - spewing self-hatred disguised as conservative doctrine.

Is she threatening to support Hillary in the hopes that Republicans will nominate Mitt? Or does Ann Coulter simply want Democrats re-thinking their support of a woman "more conservative" than John McCain?

I can't think of a single candidate, on the right or the left, that would openly welcome her support.

She is right about one thing, though. (No, Massachusetts isn't anything like North Korea.) Republicans *would* vote for Josef Stalin if he had an "R" next to his name.

h/t Susan

Flood Hillary With Health Care Questions

Or questions about a timetable for getting troups out of Iraq.

Or something of substance.

Feels Good to Laugh, Laugh, Laugh

Sarah Silverman: Big Fan

Boston Boy (well, really Cambridge...): Never really liked him. Until now.

Enjoy.


h/t tiny

The Caucus is Coming to Colorado

I didn’t realize Colorado Springs had a ghetto until I drove to the Democratic Headquarters last night for Caucus Training. Oooh, run-down buildings and not an SUV in sight...scary.

Not like I expected valet parking or anything. Always keepin’ it real, Democrats are the party of the people.

After double-locking my vehicle, saying a few prayers, and running inside, I sat down to hear John Morris discuss the workings of a caucus. He did a fine job training us – and by “us” I mean “sadsacks guilted into volunteering as Precinct Chairs.” Against our better judgment and instead of watching TV Land reruns that night, we pledged to help run El Paso County’s version of Super Tuesday on February 5th.

I’m not quite sure how Caucus Day will turn out here in The Springs. I looked around at my fellow trainees who were supposed to leave the room as authorities and – oh good Lord. These people couldn’t grasp the workings of attendance-taking. How will they also complete the Delegate Math Work Sheet, with levels of arithmetic I haven’t seen since college, in the allotted time?

Our party expects an answer, goddamn it, by 9:30pm that evening.

Good luck. Good luck to all of us.

Not only are we going to have to work a calculator and take attendance, we will ask for donations (unlike Republicans we’ve never *charged* folks to participate in the process), beg for election judge volunteers, elect delegates, take preference polls for Senate and Presidential nominees, and, in what promises to be the biggest assache of the night, write down Resolutions to be presented to the Platform Committee.

Look, I’m all about grassroots activists. However, in addition to stinking up the room with essential oils and tofu breath, they do ramble on and I’ve got a life to lead. “Pipe down, Al, no one gives a shit about your broken street light” will be the mantra of the evening. Guaranteed.

I also plan on announcing: We must keep whereas out of the Resolution, folks. Like my Aunt Edna’s ass, whereas-es are unnecessary and take up too much room. Got me? No whereas-es, smartass-es, or dumbass-es.

I’m sure that comment alone will win friends. And votes. I am running for Precinct Chair, after all, and must be elected on Tuesday night before any other shit can go down.

I haven’t run for office since 1987 when I expected to be the first female president of Chamberlain High’s Thespian Society. Our sponsor, Ms. Nall, canceled the vote, thereby wrecking the democratic process, and chose Mieke Beck instead.

Because Mieke didn’t have a “compulsion to argue.”

So on Super Tuesday, it’s gonna be Hillary, Barack, and Me.

Your friendly neighborhood agitator.

Good luck. Good luck to all of us.

'Cause the Humane Society Ain't PETA

But I'm sure there's some way to blow this off as one-sided propaganda. And still feel good about that sirloin.


Demand the USDA take downed, or sick and injured animals, out of our food supply. Too many people are consuming and falling ill themselves from such meat.

That's a downer, indeed.

h/t Becky