I Must Meet Leslie Kritzer When I Return to NYC

And to think SNL didn't hire her after seeing this tape. Another reason I lost interest in that show around 1979.

To Vet or Not Vette?

Remember back last summer when the one word the Republicans were using more than maverick and McCain's "my friends" was vetting? All that talk about needing to head up to Alaska to properly complete the vetting process on Sarah Palin brought up images of them checking her hooves, teeth and rabies vaccination records.

I've been doing some vetting of my own this week as I've been in an even worse holding pattern on my repair and service projects. The plumber just arrived 20 minutes late. Not a huge issue. The trash pick up guys who were to arrive between 10 and noon called to say they might make it a little before 1 p.m. It's now 1:05 p.m.

And remember the guy working on the refrigerator who started at the first of the month. After three and a half weeks of telling me that the refrigerant that he needed for the repair would arrive "in the next couple of days", I gave him a deadline of noon today to get back to me to confirm he was going to do the job or I was going with another firm. I fully vetted the new firm and they have five star ratings from three different independent sources. Ten minutes after my deadline of noon and finalizing my appointment with repairman number two, the first repair guy's number showed up on my cell phone and I didn't pick up, and he didn't leave a voice mail. So he's been vetted (or veted) out like a tick removed from a horse's rear.

I had an uncle who was a big Vette man. He said that was a great way for attracting chicks. Or did he mean ticks?

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.

Reason #27,082 to Quit AT&T/SBC/Yahoo

These friggin' ads that pop up on my way to my email. Just make that creature go away until 2012 or at least 2010. Tina Fey and La Pequeña, need new material, not more of this.

Cocteau, Mormons and Crashing Ceilings

Weren't people dancing in the streets of the Castro and on Valencia barely a week ago? Did the honeymoon last 12 hours of 24? Or did Proposition 8 cancel out all of it?

I try to read Angels in America again every couple of years or cheat and watch part of the DVD as I have done tonight and try not to think too much about my friend Franz collapsing in the lobby of the Walter Kerr in May of 1993 as he kept repeating "Don't worry, you're moving to California just like the characters in the dream sequence." I've never been a Mormon but had an unsettlingly polite house mate and a number of second and third cousins who have been. There always seemed to be something sinister lurking beneath the calm waters.

Ironic?

Has it been mentioned and I missed it or has no one brought up the irony that Proposition 8 was funded by a religion with a history of making non-traditional marriage one of its core values and some of its radical offshoots still embrace? Many people get very upset or nervous when polygamy and same sex marriage are mentioned in the same breath, but it seems that members of a religion whose ancestors suffered through abuse and murder for their embracing of a form of marriage in stark defiance of Proposition 8 would have some shred empathy for those against whom it will discriminate.

We Can Laugh without Fear Now

Funniest line from a series of predicted 2009 news blips from Daily Kos:

"You're watching Alaska Cable Access Channel 2. Welcome to Hockey Talk with your host, Sarah Palin..."

Election Night in the Mission

By 5:30 p.m., I had to get out of the house as the sketchy but promising details came in. There was already a building vibe on the streets. Back home by before 8 p.m., and McCain is making the call. It's over.

I remember being in Manhattan 16 years ago when it felt that sea change had arrived. Nothing has felt quit like this in my political lifetime. Rarely would I say that I feel a need to hit the streets, but on this night it merits it.

UPDATE: Yes, too bad about the news so far on Proposition 8 (at 8:37 p.m, but it's not over). I got a robocall from the Yes on 8 sewer maggots playing a quote of Obama saying marriage is only between a man and a woman. Did they target Democrats to just be spiteful or thinking they would actually sway votes in the 13th hour? A sign that the work is just beginning not over, but we have crossed an earth shattering threshold. The road ahead will be incredibly difficult.

Even with the blood curdling boos in his audience, McCain showed some grace in his departure. I'm fine with sending out kind vibes to him as he continues on his new path as a late night comedy show guest. It suits him well now that the Oval Office is in the hands of a leader.

UPDATED UPDATE: Shockingly, Obama took only just shy of 85% of San Francisco County who are those 30,000 Republicans living here?

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

Almost

No matter what you think about any religion, say a prayer, light a candle, take a sane old person to the polls, and be prepared to say Bye Bye Bush no matter the outcome.

Who Can Really Deal with the Problem?

Odd as it may sound, I've always considered Laurie Anderson and Martha Stewart to be mirror images of each other. Both have monotone, detached voices devoid of emotion that are at once calming and disconcerting. Neither can stick to just one medium, and both were born in the 1950s. Laurie was a cheerleader and attended Columbia and Barnard, and Martha sells all the accessories that can make your home look like you went to those schools. Both can evoke the stance of a powerful business leader, but while Martha embraces French country ornament and pastels, Laurie is surrounded by stark and dark monochromes and highly industrial technology.

I went to see her Homeland show at Zellerbach in Berkeley this evening. A conversation over on Facebook with Kusala led me to fear it might be a four hour show. It was just two, and she had three curtain calls. Coming back for an encore she grabbed her string instrument to make some of us suspect that she might launch into "O, Superman" which becomes more biting with each passing year. Instead, it was just an acoustic instrumental as she pranced around the stage. At 61 she is still a wonderful prankster but put on a perfectly precise and disciplined show with an attention for detail that Martha would admire. The closest she came to "chatter" was introducing the musicians. She clearly is continuing to shape this show with up-to-the-second reference to McCain calling Rush Limbaugh a clown and then apologizing to the clowns, to many financial meltdown mentions and managing to get her biggest laugh when noting that the NRA was suggesting to women in Texas that they carry a hand gun in their purse but then qualifying -- with an apology that it might sound sexist -- that no woman in Texas would be able to find a gun in her purse.

The above tune got the biggest reaction, sort of the "dance hit" of the show, in a way.

The whole show was a nice relief to "this thing" we are stuck in, like a boil begging to be lanced, this anticipation of a dam about to burst, a mix of giddiness that Obama's win is imminent even though we will all be paupers, but that might be a glorious thing. This article in the current New York magazine grabs the whole thing more brilliantly than anything else I've read to date on the topic that unites all of us at the moment. Well, I guess it doesn't unite us with rich evangelicals who've weathered the stock roller coaster and are convinced that having an intellectual president that will make the French president look like a right wing radical is something to be concerned about.

The Costs of a Caribou Barbie

From today's New York Times:

If You Don’t Look Good, We Don’t Look Good

By Julie Bosman

Is she a maverick, or a clotheshorse?

The Republican National Committee paid more than $150,000 for clothing, makeup and accessories in September that apparently went to Gov. Sarah Palin and her family, according to an article on Politico.com.

That included $9,447.71 to Macy’s, $789.72 to Barneys New York, $5,102.71 to Bloomingdales; $49,425.74 to Saks Fifth Avenue and $4,902.45 to Atelier.

In one heavyweight shopping trip in early September, $75,062.63 was spent at Neiman Marcus in Minneapolis, a host city of the Republican National Convention.

The expenditures were listed on the R.N.C.’s monthly financial disclosure forms.

Those forms also documented $4,716.49 on hair and makeup in September, expenses that were not incurred in August.

On the campaign trail, Ms. Palin is always impeccably turned out, sometime changing jackets, high heels and hairstyles twice or three times a day.

When asked for comment, Alex Conant, a spokesman for the R.N.C., said only: “The R.N.C. does not discuss expenses as it relates to strategy.”

Just Point Me Towards the Secretary of Slow Food

I've watched this clip several times, and I have to admit I am conflicted. My initial reaction was the same as that of most of those who have commented on it at YouTube. Here is a dumb, fat, mean, narrow-minded, racist woman who clearly wears the pants in the family. Maybe it's because I've been around a rescue dog for two months and know that much angry aggression is rooted in fear and insecurity more than a deep-rooted evil, but I have some sympathy for this couple. The man, at least, seems to evoke some empathy even if he doesn't seem to have much of a spine. They are in dire straits and clearly victims of a heartless capitalistic system, with at least Sean considering that maybe things should change course, and then Tracy speaks up...

Then, I started reading some of the comments, including those who googled her and have listed her home address and phone number encouraging people to send hate mail and hurled every misogynistic insult they can muster. One thing she says is absolutely true: There are a lot of other people that think the way she does.

About midway we see them at the table saying grace over their "meal" of pizza, sandwiches and soda. And it appears they're pouring salt on the pizza. Maybe it's all just chemical. I definitely agree with Michael Pollen in this interview yesterday that there should be a minister of food or gardening in the new administration, no matter who wins.

Call me a member of the urban cultural elite, but although I am probably a dozen or so years her senior I suspect I'll outlive Tracy whose Type Two Diabetes will end in multiple amputations until her bitter, clogged heart finally gives out at 55. Even she doesn't deserved that.

But, as I said, I'm conflicted until I hear her say "Uhbahma". It's thanks to voters like her that we've had the last eight years. Maybe I will write a letter.

Caption This

I Want to Live That Happily Ever After

With all the hoopla over how voting no on Prop. 8 will corrupt our children by bringing home the book King & King that is featured prominently in the Yes on Prop 8 ads, I was curious if this little book was fiction or not. This short book originally published in the Netherlands seems very sweet, and the only thing shocking surrounding the books are the parents in the ads who are appalled that it's wrong to teach their elementary children to be tolerant and respectful.

Oh, and apparently there is a sequel called King & King & Family. Such stories aren't fairy tales from a pretend land but civilized countries such as Canada, Spain, the Netherlands, etc. In the meantime, the Yes on Prop. 8 seem to think Zimbabwe is a superior cultural role model instead of western Europe.

UPDATE: Just a couple of minutes after posting this and being depressed by the amount of money being squandered on the pro-Prop. 8 campaign to allow people like the dim-witted bigots from out of state featured above, I ran into my neighbor Laura who got married a couple of weeks ago. She sighed and said that they may just have a couple more weeks of being legal. Then she told me that I could honor them by making a donation in their honor to the no on Prop. 8 campaign. It felt good to know that I took Anne and Laura from 40% to 90% of their goal. I urge you to go here and do the same, even if it's for strangers. The good karma will come back to you

All the Same, I Want Change Not Laughs

Just when I thought there was nothing that could top La Pequena's take on Sarah Palin, along comes this Martin Denny/Yma Sumac/Andrea Martin/Talking Heads take on the Bridge to Nowhere. You can check out more over at My Damn Channel. Thanks to Gavin Elster for tipping me off to this oddity.

It's lightly amusing and reminds me that were I to have any regret about an Obama-Biden administration it's that we would not have the surreal, apocalyptic laughs of a McCain and soon Palin White House. But, doggone it, I don't want or need that. And Obama-Biden win will merit a night or two of dancing in the streets and then much, much, much hard work to begin inching back to democracy, making some enormous sacrifices, belt tightening, dodging racist barbs (and we pray not bullets) and hoping that we regain some modest ground in the first four years in order to build a great but not conquering nation in the second administration.

It will be painful and sobering, but I prefer that to the sickening yuck fest of the past four years.

(Sidebar: Watching Taxi Driver tonight and seeing the fictional politician's slogan "Palantine We Are the People" I am struck by the similarities of that line.)

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.

Live from Chile: La Palinita!

UPDATE: And at last I've found a clip of my favorite scene from the RNC, in which the other Palinita proves there are feline genes in that bloodline.

I Got Mine. You Got Yours?