No, We Weren't Consulted on the Name

When the story appeared on last night's news broadcast, the resident basenji princess perked up when she heard her name said several times in less than a minute. The White House dog, for the record, spells his name Bo and is male. The first lady of the house is fairly unimpressed so far, but she wants it to go on the record that she had her name for six years before this canine came on the scene.

Corinthian Marble Update

Here is where things stand at 6:54 p.m. PST. All tiles have been cut and sized for this, the main leg of the hall. I plan to glue and roll them before retiring for the night. Tomorrow I hope to finish up the last two legs by sundown in order to have the hall complete for the first official day of the Obama Era.
This, to me, is a fitting tribute to the final day of the Bush Era. Dirty, smelling of cat piss, stained, faded, worn and soon to be heading out the door. Now I need to decide whether to call the Junk General or College Hunks Hauling Junk to do the final honors.

Floored by Obama

By default more than design, I have spent the past six months with Obama bringing change to the floors of the JunkPlex. I refinished the utility room as I listened to the DNC on NPR and touched up the kitchen and front sitting room as I sneered through the RNC. I redid the dining room in the wake of the November 4 victory. Now, I am finishing the "hall"/office just as Bush makes his final addresses and true change is on the horizon. The famed BART carpet will be gone as the swearing in ceremony happens. And I can let my trowel rest for a while.

Sunrise

An anthem, I hope, to sing in about 18 hours. Change, perhaps, to eight not 30 years of night, but it sets my mood at the moment with that "hint of blue in the black sky."

Who cares where national borders lie
Who cares whose laws you’re governed by
Who cares what name you call a town
Who’ll care when you’re six feet beneath the ground

From the corner of my eye
A hint of blue in the black sky
A ray of hope, a beam of light
An end to thirty years of night
The church-bells ring, the children sing
What is this strange and beautiful thing
It’s the sunrise
Can you see the sunrise?
I can see the sunrise

- "Sunrise", The Divine Comedy

What We're Seeing These Days in the Mission

In These Modern Times

Yes, I did listen to the debate and regret seeing all the bits of body language.

And, lo and behold, I had a dream about McCain last night. (At least I didn't dream about dead relatives or drowning for a change.) I was in my kitchen, and McCain and several people had apparently had a sleep over at my house. McCain and I were about to put bagels in the toaster. I stepped back and with affected politeness said, "No, Senator, you go first. As a guest in my house, I insist."

He flashed his fake smile and replied, "No, my friend, you go ahead."

"No, I insist."

"Really, my friend, I am content to wait."

Knowing this cat and mouse game of feigned politeness would only delay the agony, I popped my bagel in for what felt like the longest 90 seconds of silence as we both tried to avoid eye contact. I knew that I didn't want to engage in any chatter with him, and he seemed to know that trying to gain my vote was futile.

Finally, I attempted to at least say something a-political and polite. "You're so lucky to live in a state with the Saguaro National Park. It's such a treasure."

"You know, my friend, I've still never had the chance to get down there...with all my travel and all, but Cindy and the kids say it's gorgeous."

Just then, I heard my bagel pop up, McCain rushed behind me to put in his, and then I could hear Guru yawning and I woke up.

I Got Mine. You Got Yours?

Which D Scare Us the Most?

Despair is one of the most maligned emotions, and it is the one that has been on many of our minds recently. All people, regardless of political stripes, seem to feel it about the economy. A likely -- we hope definite -- majority feel it about a McCain-Palin White House. That woman who told John McCain that Obama is "an Arab" obviously felt it in her murky mental haze that gave even the Arizona Senator a certain pause. Though this supposedly brave warrior lacked the courage and decency to respond, "And wouldn't our country and world be a better place if, in fact, he were?"

Wouldn't we all long to erase despair from the earth? It seems to be part of that horrible, sequential trilogy of Ds -- dread, despair and depression (or as many are filled with dread and despair will translate into Depression not just depression). We have an entire industry that provides us with little pills that we believe will protect us from these three dreaded Ds, yet they never manage to erase their root causes.

Much of my life I have experienced at least one or all three of these Ds, sometimes coming from divergent streams. At the moment I feel only a slight part of the first one, but it's not even that pronounced. I only appreciate that I feel it, acknowledge it and don't yield to it. Am I just singing another word for nothin' left to lose or have I reached a point of contentment without even realizing it?

Can I Just Hibernate Until Mid-November?

The Speech

Putting Barney Smith before Smith-Barney was a great line that may be remembered more than Obama's speech itself which had challenges with the physical dynamics and what came before it. Rhetoric or not, it was uplifting to at least hear coherent sentences and the right rhetoric. Perhaps I expected it to have more heart or echo more of "I have a dream". But simply acknowledging that speech, daring to speak about abortion and gay marriage, and the journey of the messenger were enough for me.

What will most resonate in the morning will likely be Pamella Cash-Roper. Get rid of that dreadful Dr. Phil and give this woman a show. She's a good reminder of why we must march forward and the types of people this election is all about. Her humor in the face of adversity will stick with me for some time.

Have We Lost Our Edge?

After months of hearing that San Francisco had the nation's highest gas prices while Tulsa, Okla., had its lowest, when I saw a post today about gas reaching the $5.00 mark in Redwood City I was sure San Francisco must be soaring at the five and a quarter mark. Oh, how European that would feel! So imagine my shock this afternoon to see this sign at the 24th and Valencia where I let Carlos play with my dipstick and fluids every three months or so.

Why don't they just give it away if we're going to be outpriced a full 40 cents by...Redwood City. Redwood City! Isn't that where we city slickers are supposed to go for bargains? Oh, the universe is truly out of whack. Cribs indeed!

(For those who track such things, this is post 1001 at Junk Thief as our two year anniversary rapidly approaches.)

A Quote from Thursday

Well, you know right now America is in a state of upheaval. Poverty is demoralizing. You can't expect people to have the virtue of purity when they are poor. But we've got this guy out there now who is redefining the nature of politics from the ground up Barack Obama. He's redefining what a politician is, so we'll have to see how things play out. Am I hopeful? Yes, I'm hopeful that things might change. Some things are going to have to.

The Nominee

Okay, let's just get on with the damned thing, okay. Six months later, this is still the only political video or ad that speaks to me. I ask that this be the only thing run in heavy rotation for the next six months. No negative ads, please. I suggest that McCain lip sync to Piaf. May the best drag queen win.

If I Can Overlook Oprah, He May Have Just Won Me Over

Interactive Monday Assignment (A Day Late)

Sorry for the delay, but it was a busy Monday.

We all heard about the big Oprah (or is it Oprah!) endorsement of Obama.

I ran into Oprah's friend Gayle at the Best Buy in Colma (cemetery capital of northern California) last night, and she said that Dinah Shore is also endorsing Obama. Apparently there is a huge push to get endorsements from other dead celebrities. Although dead people still can't legally vote (except in North Dakota and Mississippi), there is no law against them making endorsements.

Thus, here is your assignment. Who do you think these dead people would vote for if they were alive?

• Groucho Marx
• Karl Marx
• Eva Gabor
• Tammy Wynette
• Dora Hall
• Totie Fields
• Rudolph Nuryev
  
• Elvis
• Jackie Coogan
  
• Charo (Oops, even if she's not dead she can't vote in the U.S.)
• Thelma Ritter

• Papa John Creech
• John C. Holmes
  
• Roebuck Staples
• Arthur Treacher
• Wendy O Williams
  
• Wilfrid White-Hyde
• Barry Goldwater
• Jerry Falwell
• Amanda "Kitty" Blake

Bonus question: Who was Benji's favorite First Pet?

Enough?

As the political question of the past week or so seems to be whether or not Obama is "black enough," leading one to wonder if the media has run short of enough creativity to come up with any real question, I am reminded of a little incident on my flight from Guatemala City to Houston on Sunday. Sitting next to a lovely 30ish South Asian bloke who spoke a Chicago-style English, he grew increasingly angry as the goateed flight attendant spoke to me in a Texas twang and to him in bumbling second grade Spanish. When, as he passed out immigration papers and mumbled to my seat-mate "Son Americano?" he got a reply of "Yeah, third generation, pal!" as a response. So, is it racist to even question Obama's "blackness" or roots in the true African American experience or to even suggest that he will be less worthy of a candidate seems to be a bit self-defeating. Is Hillary Clinton feminist enough? Probably not? Is John Edwards "southern enough?" Probably not, but we'll still get stuck with him as the likely running mate (as either first or second banana depending on how ready the Dems that the U.S. is even a slightly progressive candidate. Sadly, the chances of a moderately progressive candidate being a viable winner will hinge on when or if the "war" will "end." Under the terms it was declared, it will take a few more centuries to even think there could be a victory. And the U.S. would certianly not be the winner. To think that the lives of working class 18-35 year olds will be the collateral damage is the reality of the commodities this country is willing to use to play cards in the 21st century. If JunkThief tends to be glib at times, it is no doubt the numbness of the country he currently lives in. No wonder he considered ripping up his passport last week. And, yes, I am actually willing to get up enough energy to campaign for Obama if such a scenario is remotely possible.