Winter Light, Winter Dark

There is something about early February that can always be tricky, especially if you live in northern California. We don't have a real winter here, but we have the rainy season. It doesn't get cold here (some idiots here call 45 degrees "cold"). But it gets wet, and we are deprived of my favorite type of light -- winter light.

The light in winter is so precious and stingy. I despise sunny, summer days, and I usually can't stand having direct sun on my skin -- except in winter. It is so delicate and precarious, hopeful and faint.

Winter Light is the title of one my favorite Bergman movies in which villagers question their faith in the nuclear age. I've been watching a lot of Bergman this winter -- currently on Wild Strawberries. It doesn't depress me, especially in the winter. Winter Light is also the title of one of my favorite Linda Ronstadt albums. While I will concede it's not her greatest, I think it's her most under-rated work. It's all about the warmth of home on a cold night, a beacon in the snow, to my mind at least.

Besides watching the Kurt Gerron bio-doc Prisoner in Paradise (dark, sad, fatalistic) I've been listening to a lot of Brecht and Weill. I became entranced by Brecht and Weill around age four when my pre-school played an instrumental version of the tunes from Die Dreigroschenoper. These two figured heavy in my life before Peter, Paul & Mary or the Beatles and still play a larger role. Brecht and Weill are perfect tunes for mid-winter nights, like a defiant cold fist in the face of adversity.

I have been transferring some of my favorite Deutsche Grammophon LPs of Weill and Brecht, especially those with Gisela May. Ah, Gisela May! No one holds a candle to Lenya's Weill recordings except for May.

There seems to be so much sadness and uncertainty in February -- from J.D. Salinger dying to those Teabaggers meeting in Nashville, like Weimar vermin trolling through the grave of Reagan to yank shreds of his rotting brain from his crypt in Simi Valley. All that talk of reviving Jim Crow literacy requirements and denying voting privileges to all non-English speakers and "celebrating" Reagan's 99th birthday. Watch out folks, are you ready to stomach a Reagan centennial next year that will culminate in 2012 right on target with the cataclysmic Mayan calendar? There was recently a move in the Bay Area to rename Mount Diablo to Mount Reagan. Wouldn't that be redundant? If it's called Mount Diablo, isn't it already named after Reagan?

But let's not dwell too much on the dark. Only a little over 1,100 cretins attended that teabag gig. Spring is around the corner. And there is plenty more Brecht and Weill to lift one's spirit

Oh, What Next?

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?

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.

People Get Ready

The Updo Explained

Okay, it's already outdated (thankfully), but I just discovered this apparently local interweb, self-proclaimed "master of the awkward interview". The hair salon encounter was pretty amusing. If you just can't get enough of her, she is over at the Minx Mandate.

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..."

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.”

Caption This

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

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.

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?

They Say Joe Biden Can't Even Hum

In all honesty, I was glad Palin did as well as she did at the debate. A few commentators said that even Biden was exhibiting body language that suggested that he was relieved to see a formidable opponent. That doesn't diminish what came out of her mouth, and Biden never condescended to her or treated her as an idiot. Having been engaged with my blogger buds Friday night, I missed the two head honchos live but agree this was a more lively debate. If only we could take the vote today with what the polls are showing. Fingers crossed and knocking on wood for now.

May I Call Yah Joe?

Watching it live. The above headline was the governor's opening line. How's it going? No fireworks yet, but she just said betcha. How will it end up? I'll get back to yah.

On a Clear Day You Can See the Russian Federation

My weighing in on this much discussed interview probably provides no new insights. However, by age 16 I had far more stamps in my passport than this woman. Further I've met three heads of state, albeit from very impoverished nations. But I want a person in the White House who has met those heads of state and considers them as important as the ones from powerful nations.

This interview reminds me of interviews for administrative assistant's -- yes, of both genders -- where their nervousness about their lack of qualifications came shouting out like a fire alarm. If I were interviewing her for a position that involved more than filing and coding invoices, I would borrow her Bridge to Nowhere quote and say, "Thanks but no thanks." Able to field dress a moose? Absolutely. Able to mail merge and set up an Excel spreadsheet? Possibly, after some night classes at Platt College. Able to lead a nation or a state? Yes, but down the road to nowhere.

Can I Just Hibernate Until Mid-November?

Let's Send the Caribou Barbie to the 94709!

I love trees. I hate the ideology of evangelical Republicans. I enjoy eating vegan meals when they are cooked well. I also enjoy animal based protein now and then. I recycle and compost. I'm not above going to big box stores or pay more at locally owned co-ops.

However, when I see more than one of our local news outlets leading with the story about the Berkeley tree sitters as if it were the most important story in the world, I think the office Sarah Palin should hold is at least city council member if not mayor of Berkeley. After my last post calling for an end to the violence in the Mission, I own up to the thrill of the vision of Ms. Palin and her assault rifle taking care of business with the tree sitters and then heading over to the Marine recruiting station to run Code Pink out of town. No bullets fired, mind you, but just to give these folks a reminder that there is a world outside of their patchouli and B.O. scented bubble.

Okay, I got that out of my system. Now on the peaceful images of protecting polar bears.