This Better Be Good!

A movie for grownups with no car chases.

A few weeks ago I took in George Clooney's new movie, the Descendants.  I think it was the first movie I had seen in a theater in more than a year.  Most new films don't cater to geezers over thirty and when I do see one that looks like it has possibilities I merely talk about "maybe' seeing it until it's, all of a sudden,  out on DVD.  

Just as I'm certain that the 12-24 year-old demographic deemed the Descendants, I'm just too S L O W.

Frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way.   Who needs $10 popcorn and washtub sized sodas?  We more "mature" guys with our jumbo prostates can't chug those fountain refreshments without a handy remote to pause the action.  For that, and more reasonable snack pricing, the good ol' home big screen TV is the place to park it for entertainment.   Which is right where I'll be this Sunday night as I wait for the conclusion of the best new series on television, Homeland.


Over the past few years the best movies have been those of the series variety created for TV's premium channels.  HBO started it with shows like the Sopranos, Curb Your Enthusiasm,  Band of Brothers and so many more.  They continue today with Boardwalk Empire, Bored to Death, Enlightened and others.  AMC, FX and Showtime have entered the fray with wonderful offerings like: The Killing, Rescue Me, Hell on Wheels, Breaking Bad and the truly outstanding Homeland.  Clearly some of the best writing, acting and producing of today is happening not in the theaters but on premium TV.

Claire Danes

Homeland is a thriller with a counter-terrorism theme that gets well deserved raves from critics and on-line clowns like me who can't wait for each Sunday night installment.  Claire Danes is Carrie, a bi-polar CIA officer, who is certain that a former POW turned war hero, Damian Lewis as Sgt. Nicholas Brody, has been "turned" by Islamic extremists and is on an undercover mission of jihad against America.  Homeland is taut and intelligent and has kept me occupied with its dramatic twists and turns for weeks.  This Sunday night it should all come together.  It will be tough to pull off a satisfying resolution to this story while getting we fans primed for a new season at the same time.  I hope they don't blow it like the creators of AMC's The Killing did.  If you watched that one, you know what I mean.

Sunday night should be ninety minutes of television at its best.  A great story concludes with some answers to questions and needed resolution-- at least that's what I'm hoping for.  If not, well there is my popcorn and ninety minutes of watching Claire Danes.  A bargain in any man's language.

You CAN'T Make It Up

The guys who take care of our yard, Miguel and Juan Carlos, are talking to me.  It's early and I can't quite figure out what the big deal is but they seem pretty excited.  It doesn't help matters that I speak only enough Spanish to find the men's room and both of them dabble in English with a great deal of trepidation.

"Senor!...something something something Spanishy...berry berry bad!  The something something &^%@#%$! &&******$&#& (really nasty Spanish stuff) eez eating yard!" 

After some consideration and a look at large hunks of sod that used to be part of the lawn I deduce that what the guys are telling me is that raccoons have declared war on the Copper yard.  This cannot stand!

Apparently raccoons find the grubs that dwell in our well tended turf are like lobster or escargot to these bandits and they will stop at nothing to attain the tender nuggets of grubby goodness.  We'll see how this plays out but I have high hopes for some kind of pellets I bought from one of the "experts" at Home Depot who guaranteed that "this is the formula that renders the grubs not quite so tasty to these animal outlaws".  There was some mention of the grubs going from tasting like raccoon cherries jubilee to liver and onions.  If that doesn't do it, perhaps I'll go with putting up a large picture of Nancy Pelosi to spoil their appetite.  

Nine out of ten raccoons prefer dining on Copper grubs!

In other news......

Jon Corzine, the Wall Street whiz who managed to misplace 1.2 billion dollars in customer money when he ran the MF Global fund, has been spending his days of late telling a congressional committee that he is so clueless he, like Sgt. Schultz of Hogan's Heroes fame, knows NOTHING about where the money went. I'm inclined to believe him. 

Anybody who watched what an absolutely horseshit job he did as a U.S. senator and as governor of the  state of New Jersey knows he is an idiot.  Proof positive comes in a recent assessment of the man by Vice President Joe Biden:  "He's the smartest guy I know in terms of the economy."  President Obama, after accepting some $500,000 in bundled campaign contributions from Corzine, is said to have had him on the short list to head Treasury.  'Nuf said.

"What, me worry?"

FROM OUR OVERSEAS DESK........

Does this bad boy make you hot?

An Egyptian news outlet has reported that an Islamic cleric in Europe has ordered Muslim women to prevent "sexual thoughts" by staying away from bananas, cucumbers, carrots, zucchini, and other phallic produce.  The unnamed sheikh advises that if women want to eat these kinds of food they need to cut them into smaller pieces.  Well, actually they need to have a man cut them, in private, preferably he should be a relative, because the foods "resemble the male penis" and could "make them think of sex."

fully neutered erotic veggie

Let's see a show of hands.  How many of us are damn glad these wackjob morons haven't taken over the world....YET??

DATELINE///  Albequerque, N.M.

    A 13 year-old boy was handcuffed and taken to juvenile detention for burping in class.  The boy allegedly burped audibly in P.E. class and his teacher, (see coach), called a school resource officer, (see rent-a-cop), to complain about the disruption.

Who knew that this was a felony??

I plan to turn myself in just as soon as I file this fine report.  I'm sure that there is at least a fifty year statute of limitations on an offense as grave as this.  I would also expect that many of my gutter-snipe buddies of yore would like  to join me in this mea culpa.  

I'll meet you at the Principal's office my fellow miscreants.  Please step forward Misters.: Erickson, White, Hall, Boyd, Chamberlain, Cooper, you too Swanson, .....right now!  And bring your bicarbonate.

"Brrrraaaaaaappp!!!"

AND STAY OUT!!

One fat freeloading bastard down and hundreds to go.

The pudgy putz who gave us the housing crisis, Barney Frank, having raped and pillaged the taxpayers for more than thirty years, is leaving his comfy gig in congress and heading home.  Well, probably not "home" to the district he currently represents in Massachusetts but, more likely, his home in the  District of  Columbia where he, like all the other professional politicians, is certainly at "home". No doubt he'll become some sort of lobbyist and harvest his green without the inconvenience  of that pesky regulation he has to work around now.   Beside that Mr. Frank probably took a long look at his newly re-drawn home congressional district and surmised he didn't have a snowball's chance to run his line of crap past an additional 300 thousand constituents and thus decided to head for the hills with his fat congressional pension and perks.  

Barney "Mr. Personality" Frank

It was hilarious to watch this elder statesman of the left during an exit interview on the ever more insipid Today Show yesterday.  Tossing softballs his way was Savannah Guthrie, a journalist so lightweight she needs lead boots just to stay earthbound.  Ms. Guthrie in four routine and surprisingly un-fawning questions managed to piss off old Barn to the point where he said, "You've managed to ask all sort of negative questions.....It's gotcha' journalism.  It's gotcha' politics.  And it does lessen our chances to get things done."  Classic!  How dare anyone ask a question about what Barney may have done with our money.

Here is a guy who for years as the chairman of the Financial Services Committee assured us that everything was just dandy with  Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac and the American taxpayer had nothing to worry about regarding all those mortgage loans made to people who clearly didn't have the ability to service the debt.  He and his pals bought the votes of these deadbeats and did it with our money.  Instead of arresting him, his co-conspirators let him and his buddy, Chris Dodd, author the Dodd-Frank bill to re-make the U.S. financial industry.  (By the way...we are still waiting for the promised release of the particulars of Mr. Dodd's home loans from Countrywide Financial.  Those will probably made public around the same time Bill Clinton's medical, John Kerry's military and Barack Obama's college records are put forth for our inspection.)

Giving Dodd and Frank the task of writing a bill to define the rules and regulations of the nation's financial industry was much like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys--NEVER a good idea.  

But, that's where we are.

Chris Dodd is no longer in the Senate and Barney Frank has the money in the trunk, the car running and one foot out the door, and we.......uh......we have Dodd/Frank.  Thanks fellas!

So, who takes Barney's place on the House Financial Services Committee?

Maxine "gimme the money" Waters

Sweet Jesus! November 2012 can't get here soon enough!

Pass the FOOTBALL, I'll Skip the PARADE

As it turned out the football gods proved crafty indeed making the Dolphins/ Cowboys tilt the most exciting contest of Thanksgiving Day.  The Lions reverted to form and rolled over for the Packers early in the day while the shootout at the Harbaugh brothers corral in Baltimore merely established the mortality of the 49rs and the inherent superiority of older siblings.  I am truly thankful for the pigskin parade.  It is the perfect accompaniment to the gurgling noises my body makes as it converts turkey, mashed 'taters, cranberries and pumpkin pie to winter time hibernation blubber.

Wiener dogs ruled the 1950's

Snoopy should lift his leg on the Today Show

However, there is one parade I can do without.  WHEN THE HELL WILL THE FREAKING MACY'S PARADE GO A W A Y??!!  I know I know...it's all for the kiddies.  I get that.  My grandson Dan made his mom record and replay the passing of the Buzz Lightyear balloon about eighty-five times before he even finished his breakfast.  (The kid has a real thing for the Buzz man.)  But, COME ON, how much do any of the networks really show of the actual parade?  It seems as if coverage of the parade itself is secondary to the promotion of yet another season of doggy network sitcoms and dramas people have either not discovered or have discovered and decided to discard.  There is no other explanation for the insidious parade of unfunny untalented unknowns who flounce by  the webs' reviewing stands to be interviewed by equally untalented unknowns.  What has happened to fat Al Roker?  Is he now so skinny that I missed him, or has he "aged out" of the platoon of happy talk ho' bags so prevalent lately on the box?  I swear I didn't see a familiar face on CBS, NBC or ABC.

Bullwinkle was head and antlers above it all in the 1960's

So, networks, if you're taking notes, next year I'd like to see a little less from your promotions department and something more of the parade.  (It wouldn't hurt to have Buzz Lightyear circle the block a few times when he gets to Times Square.  My grandson would appreciate it.)  Also, get the technical director to spend a little more lens time on the cute corn fed baton twirlers from Tulsa and spare the rest of us the close-ups of the fat boy high school tuba players sweating like drag queens at a wig sale as they march in place to "Louie Louie".  PLEASE,  as mentioned earlier, some of us are still eating breakfast.

Gee, as I look back over what I have written, this seems just a tad on the snarky side.  So, I'm not that thankful for the parade.  Big deal.  I am very thankful for many things...Just a minute, they'll come to me.

I didn't get a speeding ticket this year.  I ...uh....only slathered on an additional five pounds since last Thanksgiving.  Okay, maybe ten after yesterday.

Let's see?...I know I have more.  Oh yeah, leftover turkey awaits me for the next couple of days and everyone knows that good gobbler only gets better with age.

And, finally--best of all-- when his mom wasn't looking, I introduced Dan to the direct application of Ready Whip.

We're making memories here.  The torch has been passed.

Open wide and spray.  INSTANT HEAVEN!

Comfort or Style? It's a Matter of Gender

Finding a great pair of shoes is right up there with laying a devastating line on the boss who just fired you as you flip him the bone.  It's like getting dismissed from jury duty or, better yet, sending some deserving miscreant to the electric chair.  It just FEELS RIGHT.

Ahh....comfort

A couple of years ago, somewhere near the corner of 9th Street and First Avenue on Manhattan's Lower East Side, I picked up a pair of Merrell clogs that delivered my dogs to podiatry heaven.  It was an accident of course.  When you are diligently looking for something great it rarely is in plain sight.  The truly memorable friends, meals, movies, trips--you name it--are stumbled upon when you're not in the market.  My feet were being tortured by a pair of Nikes gone bad and in a walking city like New York that equals pure hell.

Those Merrells called to me from the window of a tiny shoe store directly across from Thompkins Square Park.  I bought them and it was love at first step.  I have several other shoes in my closet, but this is the pair I have chosen to marry.

Speaking of marriage...Here is the problem:  My wife thinks these wonderful shoes are starting to look a little "ratty" and need to be removed from my power rotation.  Why do women do this??!!  It's the same thing with a comfortable pair of jeans that you've broken in perfectly or socks that may have a few holes.  (Who can see those anyway?)  Just when stuff starts to get good, BOOM!, it's "Give me   those.  They are ready for the Am Vets."

We guys are reluctant to part with clothes and shoes we've come to think of as part of our body.  Comfort, not looks or style, is the primary concern for the keepers of the Y chromosome.  On the other hand, it's not that we don't appreciate a pair of good looking stems attached to feet sporting gravity defying high heels.  I don't know how women do it.  Drunk or sober no male can make forward progress in what amounts to a pair of mini stilts.  Even drag queens look as nervous as an elephant on ice skates in those things.

I think these look like you

So,  what I am trying to say is this:  Thanks ladies!  Your fashion sense is a gift to guys everywhere.  You all look lovely in girl shoes.  You make me and most guys grateful for the view.  BUT, PLEASE PLEASE leave us our unstylish  but comfortable duds and shoes.  We don't care how we're put together, we just want to be comfy when we unclog the sink or check your oil.  That whole "style" scene is your province and welcome to it.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I know where she has hidden my Merrells.  The Am Vets truck won't be here until a week from Wednesday so there is still time for a rescue.  Great kicks, like Padre trips to the World Series,  come once or twice in a lifetime.   I am on a mission and cannot be denied.

"Dear Santa...what is your take on comfortable shoes?"

11-11-11

Veterans Day, one of the few remaining federal observances we actually reserve for a specific date, seems different this year.  I don't know why.

Maybe the fact that we seem to be winding down our long military involvement in places like Iraq and Afganistan has something to do with it.   Or perhaps the 11/11/11 date that comes so close to the original Armistice Day "eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month" ending of World War I gives us pause this year.  I'd hate to think that the Friday anniversary making it a three day weekend is key, but it might be. 

I'm a veteran and proud of the fact that I served.   Unlike my father and several friends who wore the uniform,  I was lucky.  Nobody ever tried to capture, maim or kill me--so far as I know.  I spent my time in Georgia and Kansas playing war games, calling in artillary strikes on cattle and hiding from my company commander. I couldn't wait to get back to civilian life and my chosen profession of vagabond radio reprobate.  I was good at that.  Soldiering, not so much.  

The problem with the military, and all large organizations, is that they don't encourage contrary opinions. Indepedent thinking leads to management problems and a lack of discipline the theory goes, but sometimes that results in  decisions and actions that are silly or just plain wrong.  Superiors DO NOT appreciate input contidictory to their opinion!  Suggesting that the Captain, Major, Colonel or General might be just "a teensy bit wrong" about something will get your heels locked every time.  Trust me.  If I had any designs on a military career, these would be the musings of the world's oldest first lieutenant.  

Which brings me to...Maj. Gen. Peter Fuller.  Until a couple of weeks ago General Fuller was the deputy commander for programs at the NATO training mission in Afghanistan.  It seems that General Fuller didn't get the memo about not expressing an opinion that contradicts "official" Army policy.  On a speaking tour in Kabul, the General was asked for his thoughts on recent comments from Afghanistan's president Hamid Karzai in which Mr. Karzai told a Pakistani interviewer Afghansistan would come to Pakistan's aid if attacked by the United States.

"Why don't you just poke me in the eye with a needle!  You've got to be kidding me," Fuller said.  "I'm sorry, we just gave you $11.6 billion and now you're telling me, 'I don't really care?"

Fuller went on to say that Karzai was erratic and inarticulate and failed to appreciate the American lives lost in defense of the Afghan people.  Good call!

So, what happens?  General Fuller's boss, General John R. Allen dismissed the deputy commander effectively ending his Army career.  A good soldier done in for simply stating the obvious.  The pentagon did the same thing last year to General Stanley McChrystal for his esentially correct observations regarding the Obama administration's handling of our country's mission in Afghanistan.

Major General Peter Fuller

On this Veteran's Day how about a big thank you to General Peter Fuller for having the guts to speak the truth.  Perhaps even a little more frankness in the upper echelons of our military might lead to better planning and fewer American lives sacrificed in the future.  The troops always know the truth.  It is mostly the Generals and politicians who can't handle it.

A Santa Even Daddy Likes

November first was always the day I could see Christmas and the holidays on the horizon and the shopping nightmare would begin.

God, I hate shopping! You know,  regular, get in the car and go to the store shopping.  In the past there was NO way around it.  Birthdays, anniversaries, and other less significant gifting events might be taken care of with a lunch, dinner, or promise of some sort of "good behavior in the future" but Christmas requires something wrapped and "thoughtful", both of which imply actual SHOPPING.  The horror!

Several years back a man from the North, not the pole but Seattle, named Jeff Bezos came along with this really neat idea to sell books via an Internet website.  Viola! Amazon was hatched. As time passed Mr. B. decided to lend his marketing genius to the destruction of not only retail bookstores but RETAIL in general.  Now, thanks to this magnificent SOB, I can buy everything from coffee to cattle prods, Kaye Starr to Katy Perry, mouthwash to mouse traps and it's all ON LINE.  No more sweating that trip to the mall and the inevitable safari for parking.  Nope,  I can find a gift for everyone on my list without ever leaving my Lazyboy--(also available on Amazon).  And now, thanks to Amazon Prime, I have guaranteed quick delivery to just about any doorstep FREE! (for only $79 per year).  This is truly a heaven sent gift to guys.

I will admit that since shipping booze via UPS, FEDEX, or USPS is against the law Amazon won't help with some of my degenerate friends this season.  However, a trip to the liquor store does give me the chance to once again congratulate myself for maintaining twelve years of abstinence.  All I have to do is look at the price of some of my formerly favorite fool fuel to realize how much money I'm saving.  (A quick tabulation tells me that from 1968- 1999 I drank up about eleven Corvettes, two round the world cruises, four vacation condos and a partridge in a pear tree.)

Now...where is my list?  Time to get on-line at the old Amazon store and start setting fire to a couple of credit cards.  Think of all the gas I'm saving!  Although I will miss some of the pushing and shoving at the mall and, best of all, finding the cutest little saleswoman in the lingerie department--"she's about your size"--to pick out that special gift.  I will miss nothing else.

I know it is not yet Thanksgiving but the holidays and shopping have a way of sneaking up and biting you in the ass.  "Ho Ho Holly Cow!  It's Christmas!"  No need to panic,  just take your shopping to the Bezos man.

As my beloved Grandpa Copper used to say, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.  When life gives you a juniper berry, make a gin martini."  The man was an idiot savant.  Just like Jeff Bezos.

Gentlemen, start your credit cards!

Making glad the hearts of shopping impaired males everywhere.