Avalon

Some may call it schmaltz, but I dearly love “Avalon.” As a matter of fact, the Roxy Music album of the same name was the very first CD I ever purchased, waaay back in 1984 or so. Bought, of course, to augment the well-worn vinyl copy of “Avalon” that resides in my LP collection. But I digress. I auditioned several versions of this tune to select one for posting…and chose a live version. The studio version is simply exquisite, and benefits from (probably) hours of fine-tuning the mix on the console. There’s not much to quibble about in the studio version…the background vocals are suitably ethereal, the horn charts are subdued yet simply awesome, and Bryan Ferry’s singing…love it or leave it… is magnificent.

What the Hell. Here’s the studio version as soundtrack to some video whose meaning is completely lost on me. Pun intended.

The Second Mrs. Pennington and I did numerous turns around numerous rooms in numerous locations to “Avalon.” And the effect was nearly always the same…ecstasy. In one form or another.

“Dancing…dancing…”

Oh, yes.

Somewhat Retiring...

I got off on quite the link-chasing tangent this morning after reading this lil piece of economic news at CNN… “Household incomes rise but ... Census Bureau reports slight rise in 2006 incomes but as a group, households aren't doing as well as before the 2001 recession.” Ah, there always seems to be a Big But(t) in the picture when it comes to economic news. Or at least the picture Our Media like to paint, anyway.

The rise in household income and decline in poverty are positive developments, and they were expected given low unemployment last year. But U.S. households have yet to return to the higher income and lower poverty levels they reached during the last recession.

"In 2006, the poverty rate remained higher, and median income for non-elderly households remained $1,300 lower, than in 2001, when the last recession hit bottom," said Robert Greenstein, executive director of the liberal Center on Budget and Policy Priorities in a statement. "It is virtually unprecedented for poverty to be higher and the income of working-age households lower in the fifth year of a recovery than in the last year of the previous recession."

Didja notice anything unusual in the last paragraph? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I DO believe it’s quite rare for a news organization to identify a source as “liberal,” as in “…director of the liberal Center on Budget and Policy Priorities…” Media use the adjective “conservative” all the damned time when describing the political orientation of various and sundry pundits…too often, in my mind… but good on CNN for using, at least once, an appropriate modifier for the economic wet-blanket crowd. Refreshing, that.

But, the point above is neither here nor there. What occupied most of my time this morning were a series of articles about retirement linked in the article referenced above and in subsequent pieces I read. There was this one, for starters: “Retirement at risk: Who's falling short.” And that article led to this one: “Shrinking Social Security; A new report says Social Security will replace less of your income than it did before, thanks to taxes, Medicare and the reality of hitting your 60's.” And there were links within those links that cried out to be followed…and follow I did. What emerged was a rather depressing set of statistics and factoids about the doom facing my cohort and those that follow close on our heels: We’re not prepared, most of us, for retirement and what’s worse is few people are doing much of anything to rectify the situation. A lot of folks can’t save or contribute as much as they need to that ol’ 401(k) because…well, there’s just too much stuff we need right now… an iPhone, a new car (followed by another new car, next year), a bigger house, perhaps a little vacation place on the lake, a boat for the vacation house, college for the kids (if even that…), a cruise or two, a new wardrobe (“everything I own is ‘out!’”), yadda, yadda, yadda. And then all of a sudden you’re 65 and find yourself still working, with few, if any, alternatives.

I had a conversation with a friend the other night who’s in that boat I just described: 65 and still working. And a self-admission that although retirement beckons (“I’m getting tired”), the debt load is such that retirement is absolutely, positively out of the question…both now and for the foreseeable future. And savings? Non-existent. But the cash flow is good, the bills get paid, and the acquisition merry-go-round is still whirling. I fear for my friend. And others, too. Time is short.

Two years on and it ain’t just the rebuilding:

President Bush is visiting New Orleans to mark the second anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, as are Democratic presidential candidates Barack Obama, John Edwards and Hillary Clinton, and Republican candidates Mike Huckabee and Duncan Hunter. The White House will probably release a fact sheet detailing how many billions of dollars the government has spent on Gulf Coast recovery. The Democrats, no doubt, will call for more money and action. Here's hoping at least one political visitor will be brave enough to say the truth: that while many New Orleans residents are courageously taking the initiative to rebuild their homes, they cannot build an effective police and prosecutorial force on their own.

I’m afraid I just don’t have the intestinal fortitude required to live in N’Awlins these days. Not after reading this piece, anyway. Let’s hope things are going better on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, and from all indications I’ve seen/heard, they are. Rebuilding is slow work under the best of circumstances, but it’s damned near impossible in a lawless environment. Pretty sad.

Our weather has changed here on The High Plains, thanks to a cold front that moved in overnight. The forecast is for widely scattered t-storms all day and tomorrow, too. It’s lightly raining as I tap this out, and that’s a good thing. Rain is usually good in this part of the world, unlike other places where just one more drop might cause a psychopathic response in the mass population. This cold front is bringing a ten-degree reduction in temps along with rain. Both are welcome…especially the cooler temperatures.

Today’s Pic: Another in the “SN3 Plays in the Puddles” series of pics from July, 1998. There’s another reason I’m posting this particular pic— it’s one of only three pictures (another, and not a particularly good pic here) of my beloved and much-missed ‘96 Impala SS. And this pic ain’t all that good either, come to think on it. Nice shot of the front wheel and turn signal, in addition to illustrating the quality of the wax job. That car really glistened when it was clean and washed up nice.

I don’t know exactly why I never took decent pictures of this car. Perhaps it just never occurred to me to actually…you know…DO it.

Whatever.

An Inside Story

So. I didn’t blog about it, there being some…no, a lot…of things in the news I won’t touch with the proverbial ten-foot pole. Dan Rather shooting off his mouth about CBS “tarting up” the news by hiring Katie Couric was one such item. There was a grain of truth in the story, however, aside from all the hyperventilating and illogical associations of the phrase “tarting up” and Katie’s own perky self. And that would be this:

From a high of 13 million viewers in her first weeks on the air, Couric is now drawing less than 6 million and the "CBS Evening News” is in last place in the nightly news race, according to the New York Post.

CBS reportedly plans an aggressive promotional campaign this summer in an attempt to boost ratings.

CBS really intends to get to the bottom of this, to an extent that was unknown until this past Tuesday, when IowaHawk blew the whistle. Here’s just part of the “inside story,” according to Ace Detective Dan Rather:

“It just doesn’t add up,” said Moonves, pacing the floor of his office and daubing the sweat from his glistening forehead. “The research boys Q-tested Katie with all the upscale demographic groups. We balanced all the war disaster stories with soft focus celebrity news. And still our numbers are leaking worse than a viewer in our core bladder control product advertising target.”

“Those viewers have to be somewhere, Moonves,” I said. “Maybe it was an inside job. Maybe it was the other nets.”

“No dice Rather,” he said, pouring another shaky four fingers of Ensure into his highball glass. “the audience embezzlers been hitting every precinct in town – ABC, NBC, CNN, MSNBC. They hit Time and Newsweek so hard that even the dentist offices won’t touch ‘em. If we don’t do something soon we’re gonna lose the Poligrip account!”

“Dan, do you think…do you think this has something to do with the internet mob?” said Couric, a pall of perky horror washing over her mug.

“I’m way ahead of you, baby. We’ve got some bloggers to talk to.”

She kicked me in the nuts again.

“Ow!” I screamed. “What was that for?”

“I thought you were going to slap me again,” she said.

I had to hand it to her. She was learning.

****************
“Where are we going Rather?” asked Couric, slinking into the passenger door of my black Hudson.

“Townhall. We’ve got a surprise date with Cleveland Huey and his crew.” I packed my Sony FV-100 noise canceller mic into its holster in case of trouble.

A few minutes later we arrived at the nondescript hall deep in the Blogosphere Bowery. We pushed through the filthy padded door and made our way to a smoky backroom. Huey was seated at a card table, around which sat a rogue’s gallery of sleazy online opinion slingers: Beantown Barney, the head of the Boston family; Mongo Steyn, the hulking French Canadian punditry thug; Duffer Hitchens, the East End goon with a taste for brutal polemics; and Jimmie Fargo, capo of the Twin Cities blog syndicate.

Jackpot, I thought. I knew they were up to their fedoras in some kind of audience heist. Trouble was, it would be next to impossible extracting information out of them. Hewitt and his gang were notoriously tight-lipped, and were blood-sworn to the Blogosphere code of silence. Getting two words out of this bunch of mutes would be harder than getting a proportional font out of a ’68 IBM Selectric.

“Nice little hideout you got here Huey,” I said sauntering up to the table. Couric’s fingers clutched my arm tightly. “There’s probably enough room here to stash a million or two missing TV news viewers.”

“You’ve got it all wrong, pally,” said Huey, tossing cards around the green felt. “This joint here is a, whattayacallit…”

“Social club,” offered Mongo, discarding a pair.

“Yeah yeah, social club. That’s it. Place for me and the boys to get away from the wives. Play some cards, talk about the weather. How’s the weather in Minneapolis these days, Jimmy?”

“The usual,” said Fargo, shooting me a straight razor glare.

“See what I mean, Rather? Strictly small talk.”

“Yeah yeah, boss, small talk,” said Beantown.

“Shaddup, stupid!” he glared. “Just play your hand, real easy-like.”

“That’s not the word on the street, Huey,” said Couric, angrily. “Word is you and your pals are packing microphones and rolling up a lot of hit counts.”

“Oh sure, doll, we do a little radio, and blog once in a while,” said Huey. “Just a little fun. But I ain’t touched a TV studio ever since I left PBS. Ain’t dat right, Hitchens?”

“I don’t know nuthin’ about nuthin’,” said the menacing Limey, slamming back a shot of Yoo Hoo chocolate beverage. “Gimme three.”

“If I were you, Rather, I’d go snoopin’ out in L.A.,” said Hewitt. “That’s where all the action is. Any of you mugs got an 8?”

“Go fish!” snapped Gnat, Jimmy Fargo’s pint sized gun moll.

There’s a happy ending, of course. You can read the rest of “The Ratings Always Drop Twice” here. To quote Mr. Reynolds: Heh.

Today’s Pic: Crank up The Way-Back Machine and set the controls for the summer of 1998 (this being the first day of summer and all). This is SN3 getting ready to go out and stomp in a few puddles. Actually, he’s taking a short break as he had already been out doing just that, with active participation from both TSMP and me. Life’s small pleasures, and all that.

Fairport, NY. July 4, 1998.

Late Night Blogging

Just a few more pics—this time from Fort Collins.

The second pic is The Second Mrs. Pennington and SN3, taken at a motorcycle shop in Fort Collins. We arranged to meet at the bike store on Friday morning in order to appropriately outfit SN3 for riding. TSMP did her part by buying SN3 a new pair of heavy duty boots and ensuring he had heavy pants…jeans, in this case…suitable for riding. My end of the bargain was getting Bobby a helmet, and I also bought him a motorcycle jacket since I wasn’t satisfied with the one TSMP brought along. Bobby was quite taken with his new helmet and pretty much insisted on wearing it all the time... so much so that it was hard to get a picture of him during our brief visit without the helmet.

The third and fourth pics were taken in the motel parking lot before we left on our ride out into the Colorado countryside on Sunday. The first parking lot pic is SN1 and SN3; the second is me and SN3. The first pic in this series is a head shot of SN3 taken during our ride.

Bobby is a good rider. He took my safety instructions to heart and behaved well on the bike. It turned out he enjoyed riding on Buck’s bike more than he did on the ‘Zuki, but that was because the passenger's portion of the seat on Buck’s bike is quite a bit narrower than mine and fit Bobby's smaller…uh…anatomy better than the wider seat on the ‘Zuki.

I’m not quite sure Bobby’s completely sold on the idea of motorcycling, but then again, he’s only experienced riding as a passenger, and not as the guy in control. There’s a big, big difference… I don’t particularly enjoy riding as a passenger, either... but Dang! do I ever love to "drive!"

A Quick Update

So. Hanging out with SN3 is pretty cool, to say the least. The day has been fairly low and slow, and that's OK with me. We've not gone for an extended ride today. As a matter of fact we only rode from the bike shop back to the hotel...a distance of about four miles, and that was it. As I told The Second Mrs. Pennington last night: I didn't even want to look at the 'Zuki today, let alone do any extended riding. She replied that Bobby probably didn't care, and that has been the case. And I'm glad. There will be plenty of time for riding tomorrow and Sunday...especially Sunday, when SN1 is here with his new Kowalski.

Some random notes...

I don't like composing in the Blogger "post" window. It takes time for me to organize my thoughts and edit...and I don't get that when using the "create" window in Blogger. So forgive me if this post seems sorta disorganized and rambling, more so than usual. I sure do miss my very own PC. And MS-Word. And I can't post pictures using this public workstation in the Courtyard... of which there are more than a few that were taken today.

In the "It Happens Every Time" Department: Whenever I leave P-Town I always, without exception, wonder just why it is that I stay in Portales. Case in point: SN3 and I walked to Safeway late this morning. I left home without packing my razor and needed to buy one, which will be the third Gillette Mach III in my personal inventory (I always forget my razor. What does this mean?). But I digress. The local Safeway, while not an equal to Wegmans (for instance), is pretty danged cool. There's a Starbucks on the premises, a full-service deli (with sushi!), a sandwich shop that goes beyond the term "sandwich shop," and so on and so forth. So: We had lunch at Safeway, I got my (belated) Starbucks fix, and life was good. Just can't do that at home.

I mentioned this to SN3 (e.g., "Why do I stay in Portales?") and he replied: "Because you don't like snow." Good point. The best, actually.

Out of the Mouths of Babes Dept: A brief conversation. The setting: outside of Safeway at an al fresco dining table. Eating lunch and watching the people come and go, especially the women.

SN3: (Something)
Me: What? I was distracted.
SN3: Distracted?
Me: Yeah, sorry. I was looking at that girl.
SN3: You were looking at chicks.
Me: Well, yeah, but more than chicks, Bob-O. Women. It's one of life's greatest pleasures.
SN3: But isn't that double-crossing Mom?
Me: What?
SN3: Double-crossing Mom by looking at other women.
Me: I don't get it.
SN3: I think you're in love with Mom, so you shouldn't be looking at other women.
Me: You're half right. Let's change the subject, 'K?

Interesting logic, and an implementation of a blatant double-standard! The conversation above may not be verbatim, but it's damned close. I was stunned...to say the least.

And I'll leave it at that. We're off to dinner as soon as I hit "post." Bobby has never eaten Italian food and there's an interesting looking Italian place just around the corner from the Courtyard.

More tomorrow.

For Starters...

Hoo Boy…Is He EVER Gonna GET IT!!! Gerard writes an essay that’s just bound to draw withering fire from The PC Police…about The PC Police. Excerpt:

Short form of the correct political position: "Obama's race doesn't matter except when it does."

A strange position to take when you reflect that Obama's race and standing as an African American of no little poise and intellect is the single most powerful thing he has going for him. Indeed, to be clear, Obama's race is the only reason he's doing as well as he is at all. If we had a junior Senator from Illinois with a shade more than 2 years of experience in the Senate and with the name Ole Swenson running for President, he'd be running neck and neck with Dennis Kucinich and Kucinich would be kicking his ass.

Of course, you're not supposed to notice Obama's race except when noticing it causes you to adulate wildly and attempt dancing in the streets while writing big checks from your bottomless account at The National Bank of White Guilt. If this gets you off and tickles your fancies, get down. And while you're at it, write one for me. My account is overdrawn.

The subject of Gerard’s missive is the outrage! The Usual Suspects are affecting vis-à-vis Rush Limbaugh’s insensitive parody of Senator Obama. I use the term “insensitive” only because that’s how the Usual Suspects have categorized labeled Limbaugh in their current attack mode, when not shouting “Racist!” at the top of their metaphorical lungs. Mr. Van der Leun has the big brass ones required to even broach the subject of perceived racism, let alone discuss it at some length, and I recommend his essay to you. Highly recommend it, even.

Oh…and by the way…I stole the vid just below from Gerard. He uses it to introduce his screed on the housing bubble, also highly recommended. Ya get the feeling I like Gerard, do ya? You’re right…

On hockey today: My Sentiments, Exactly…

The Red Wings might just do something they haven't done in 10 years: Pull off a playoff upset.

Yes, upset. I know: The Wings are the No. 1 seed in the Western Conference. They came into this series with home-ice advantage. And they are the Red Wings. How can the Red Wings be the underdog? Was it an upset when King Kong beat Godzilla?

But through two games, San Jose looks like the better team. It would be really hard to argue otherwise. We still need to see another game or two before we can reach a definitive conclusion, but at the least, the Sharks are the Wings' equal.

You might have a tough time seeing the Sharks as the bully, but think of it this way: the NHL has changed so much that San Jose's teal sweaters almost seem like classics.

The Wings fell behind 2-0, which seems to be company policy these days, and the way they played, it felt like 4-0. But they came back and gutted out a 3-2 win. It was far from a dominant performance, but the Wings probably won't dominate a single game in this series. They aren't that kind of team any more, and the Sharks are too good.

Read the whole thing, if you’re into hockey. If you’re not, well… you don’t know what you’re missing tough luck. I almost turned Saturday’s game off when the Sharks scored their second goal to go up 2-0. Detroit looked demoralized, The Joe was silent, and my heart was beginning to break. But, I stayed with it and I’m glad I did. SN2 rang me up about 20 seconds after Cleary (my new best-est hero) scored his second short-handed goal of the play-offs. After Sam and I compared notes and exchanged superlatives (re: Cleary) I told him about being depressed about the Wings and their chances… up until that point in time…and he replied something to the effect of “I figured as much, which is why I didn’t call until now.”

A lot will be revealed tonight in the Shark Tank. If the Wings are blown out it’s as good as over. If they lose and it’s close, it’s still a series. If they win convincingly in their first game of this playoff season in San Jose’s house…where the Sharks play exceedingly well…then it’s an upset in the making, as Mr. Rosenberg notes. I’d be tickled pink if the last possibility comes to pass.

Today’s Pic: A Blast From The Past…SN3’s first haircut, nine years ago this month. This is but one of the eleven pics I took, being the Proud Papa I was. Here he is perched upon Mom’s lap, on the wise recommendation of my barber, whose name I cannot remember. It has been nine years, after all.

April, 1998. Perinton, NY.

War Story

I’ve been a bit distracted this morning…which has delayed posting...but the distraction has been very pleasant. An old friend, workmate, and partner in crime (as in late nights at the bar) just happened to google my name last evening and found EIP, and thus…me. We’ve exchanged 12 e-mails (I’m counting both hers and mine) since last evening, including four this morning. Catching up is great fun! I can add another notch to the “bennies of blogging” gun…

Now about that war story...

Blog buddy Morgan posted a truism in the comments to one of my recent bike posts: “Dress for the slide, not the ride.” And at the risk of being redundant: “Truer words were never spoken!” Up until the last motorcycle I always…repeat: always…rode in full leather. As did The Second Mrs. Pennington. In my case it was a one-piece set of black 60’s-vintage English road racing leathers I bought second hand in 1968 (don’t laugh). I wore those leathers for over 20 years and only stopped wearing them because they were destroyed (totally) in the event that made me give up bikes for ten years. I tempted fate when I got back into bikes back in 1999—I didn’t replace my leathers; I simply wore Levis and my trusty, beloved USAF A-2. (I could digress at length about my A-2, but I’ll resist.) No more. New leathers are at the top of my “must buy” list. Now, about that event…

I was living in Detroit, it was around 1986 (or so), and I was riding a Suzuki GS-700 at the time. My in-laws lived in Harbor Beach, MI, about three hours north of Detroit in Michigan’s Thumb. My proxy daughter was visiting us at the time, and we (TSMP, our proxy daughter Robin, and good friend and neighbor Kim) decided to head north for the weekend to visit TSMP’s parents.

Slight digression... When I say “proxy daughter,” I mean a friend, not a relative. We met Robin when she was a student at the DoD high school in High Wycombe, England, back in 1981. The high school was a boarding school for kids who lived at bases that didn’t have a high school of their own, and there were many such bases. TSMP worked at the school for a brief period and enrolled us in the Proxy Parent program, which was designed to provide the boarding kids a place to go…in a family environment…to get away from the dorm. Robin was our proxy daughter, and we became fast friends. Robin is no stranger to bikes, and was my accomplice on the Mad Sunday adventure in the Isle of Man. Yep, she was on the back of the LC when we crossed Mt. Snaefell at well over 120 mph. (End of digression)

So. Back to the tale. We decided Robin and I would take the bike and TSMP and Kim would drive up in the car. The route is all freeway from Detroit to Port Huron, but after that it’s a well-maintained two lane road that skirts the shores of Lake Huron all the way up to Harbor Beach. Robin had never seen the Great Lakes before so we stopped at nearly every roadside turn out after Port Huron to gaze upon the lake, at Robin’s insistence. We fell behind TSMP and Kim by about 30 minutes as a result.

I was cruising along at 70 mph about five miles south of Harbor Beach when it happened. And it happened QUICK, as these things usually do. There was a sedan in the left lane about three car lengths in front of us. All of a sudden the driver turns left, right into our path, with no warning whatsoever. I grabbed all the brake I could, the bike swung left…hard…and we impacted the rear quarter panel of the car, doing about 60 – 65 mph. I heard Robin scream “NOOO!!” just as we hit. I was catapulted over the car’s trunk and impacted about 15 feet beyond the car, rolling, tumbling and sliding an additional 40 feet or so. I didn’t think I was ever going to stop. When I finally did come to a halt I lay there for 30 seconds or so, wiggling my fingers and toes and then running my hands up and down my legs to check for pain. There was none. I jumped up and ran back towards the car…

Robin wasn’t so lucky. She didn’t fly over the car as I did; she hit the rear quarter panel full force and dropped like a stone. The impact broke her femur in two, but without a compound fracture. Robin was conscious and in great pain, crying about her leg, but seemingly otherwise intact. The driver of the car, a 17 year-old girl, was out of the car and standing over us saying “I didn’t see you! I didn’t SEE you!” over and over and over. Fortunately for us, the residents of a near-by house had heard the impact, looked out to see me cart wheeling down the road and had immediately called the Harbor Beach ambulance service. They were on the scene in about ten minutes.

In the mean time my back had stiffened up and I couldn’t stand up straight. The pain intensified and was excruciating by the time the paramedics arrived. (It turned out I had two compression fractures in my lower vertebrae.) So…the ambulance pulls up, two paramedics jump out carrying what looked like plumbers tool boxes full of medical supplies. They were amazed that there was no blood, no road rash, no abrasions, no nothing except for Robin’s broken leg and my back pain.

To make a long story shorter, we were loaded up into the ambulance and taken to the Harbor Beach hospital, where we were met by TSMP, Kim, and TSMP’s parents. The one doctor on duty took care of Robin first, setting her leg and getting her ready for a transfer to the Bad Axe hospital, where she would have further surgery to put a surgical steel rod in her leg. But…at least we were alive and wouldn’t carry terrible scars for the rest of our lives. My compression fractures healed quite nicely, except for the slipped disc I experienced a few years later, an injury I’m certain was related to the accident but cannot prove. And the lawsuit was settled out of court. In our favor.

That accident was enough to make me give up bikes for ten years. I took away a couple of lessons from the experience, the first being you can do everything right and still get hurt on a bike…it’s the “other guy” you can’t account for. The second was an object lesson about the value of full protective gear. I’m not gonna roll those dice again, this time. Full leather saves skin, and lots of it.

Hunters, Killers, and Losers (Not Necessarily in That Order)

Chris Muir, of Day By Day fame, writes of his trip to Iraq (at Bill Roggio’s place):

People here will tell you they are mostly afraid of one thing-that we will leave soon, like we have since Vietnam, Somalia, etc., and that they will then be at the mercy of the terrorists who seep in from Iran, Syria, Egypt, and Saudia Arabia. A self-fulfilling circle, helped out vastly by our 'anti-war' citizens back home, who ironically enable wars as this by forcing constant US retreats through our political process. People here - real people, not 'Jamil Husseins' - want us here to give them time to reform their society.

I speculate this is one of the reasons I observed such high morale in our soldiers here. They are wanted here, unlike, say, in San Francisco. But, I digress.

“…unlike, say, in San Francisco.” Nice snark! The piece is short, but good. (h/t: Chap)

Gerard sez all there is to say about this lil news item:

Headline of the Democrats' hot new press release: SENATE DEMOCRATS ANNOUNCE JOINT RESOLUTION TO TRANSITION THE MISSION IN IRAQ

"Transition the mission." Has a nice lilt to it, doesn't it?

Beats "Let's cruise to lose," or "We'll pout until you pull out," or "Trick or treat... smell my feet... give me something good to eat."

Yes, this is probably number 13, or 14, or 15, or 16 in the Dems attempts to run without running, but at this point who is counting. Their attempts to fully manage failure will continue. As they say in the National Parks, "Once a bear gets hooked on garbage there's no cure."

Actually, this is SenConLosePlan 07-17, according to Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell:

(BEGIN VIDEO CLIP)

MITCH MCCONNELL (R-KY), SENATE MINORITY LEADER: There's 16 of them. There was the Biden resolution, then there was the Levin resolution, then there was the Reed-Pelosi resolution, the Murtha plan, the Biden-Levin resolution, the Conrad Funding Cut, there was a waiver plan, a Timeline plan, a Feingold resolution, an Obama resolution, a Clinton resolution, a Dodd resolution, a Kennedy resolution, a Feinstein resolution, a Byrd resolution, a Kerry resolution. And today would make No. 17.

(END VIDEO CLIP)

From last evening’s panel discussion on the subject by the Fox All-Stars; transcript here. (via RCP)

My Lord, but Congress seems to have more OpPlan specialists than the Pentagon. And they’re busy as all get-out (ahem), too!

More on that IRGC general who apparently defected to the West:

A former Iranian deputy defense minister who once commanded the Revolutionary Guard has left his country and is cooperating with Western intelligence agencies, providing information on Hezbollah and Iran's ties to the organization, according to a senior U.S. official.

Ali Rez Asgari disappeared last month during a visit to Turkey. Iranian officials suggested yesterday that he may have been kidnapped by Israel or the United States. The U.S. official said Asgari is willingly cooperating. He did not divulge Asgari's whereabouts or specify who is questioning him, but made clear that the information Asgari is offering is fully available to U.S. intelligence.

But then there’s this short blurb from Fox:

TEHRAN, Iran — A former Iranian deputy defense minister who disappeared from Turkey last month is not cooperating with Western intelligence agencies and his whereabouts remain a mystery, a U.S. official told FOX News Thursday.

My money’s on the WaPo’s story. Other sources agree.

NPR has a good interview with Col. Austin Bay: 'Embrace the Suck' and More Military Speak. I learned more than a lil bit from this article. Slang isn’t permanent; it evolves and changes according to time and place. And my “time and place” in the military is in the distant past, so much so that it almost seems pre-historic, at times. I’m a lil bit better after reading Col. Bay’s update.

Good news in today’s Telegraph (UK)…if true:

America is stepping up its hunt for Osama bin Laden by dispatching additional CIA operatives and paramilitary officers to Pakistan to kill or capture the al-Qa'eda leader.

US officials said that the mission is intended to intensify the pressure on the terrorist leader, who turns 50 tomorrow, and perhaps force him into making a mistake. He is widely believed to be hiding in the region bordering Afghanistan.

Satellite photographs and details of communications intercepts were given to President Musharraf of Pakistan last week by Stephen Kappes, deputy director of the CIA, as part of a strategy to persuade him to give US intelligence agencies more assistance.

Now wouldn’t it be neat if uninvited guests showed up at Osama’s birthday party tomorrow and provided free fireworks for the occasion?

“Idiot Liberals:”

House Appropriations Committee Chairman David Obey (D-Wis.) berated a woman who approached him in a Congressional corridor, claiming that “idiot liberals” don’t understand the war supplemental spending bill process.

The altercation was videotaped and posted on www.youtube.com .

“We’re trying to use the supplemental to end the war,” Obey said. “You can’t end the war if you’re going against the supplemental. It’s time these idiot liberals understood that.”

Well, now. That’s just a bit strong, nu? But not, perhaps, as strong as this (a comment to this post, and there’s more in the same incredibly stupid vein):

Stop defending these (5.00 / 2) (#2)
by Che's Lounge on Fri Mar 09, 2007 at 10:32:38 AM EST

PRICKS!!!

Don't end this war by a thousand cuts, END THIS WAR NOW!!

Stop enabling the enablers. Obey's logic is as twisted as a strand of DNA.

Stop the war there, so we don't start a war here.

“…start a war here?” WTF does that mean? Or is this comment simply justification for Rep. Obey’s rather pithy observation? You decide…

Today’s Pic: SN3 on the bridge of USS Mason. Alternative title: “Deep in Enemy Territory.” The Boy’s affinity for all things Navy is simply alarming.

Port Canaveral, FL. April, 2003.