Effluvia

Bushisms. Priceless.

Also from Slate - why Bush will lose.

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Siobhanorama!

Siobhan has no stress.

Two Years Ago
Homeless people and burned beans. Coincidentally, I also talk about a dream I had where Sonya had gotten a tattoo gun. Weird, huh?

Ah, the hot weather in August was worth it for a day like today. Beautiful, mid-eighties, low humidity...the Wife and I took the Louisiana Badass - top down, of course - to the French Quarter this afternoon. We bummed around Decatur and ate some beignets. We also hit Bookstar, Virgin and Tower, buying magazines - American and English Vogue for Sonya, various tattoo rags for me.

Yeah, I'm thinking about getting another tattoo. I'm narrowing down the choices to either some sort of girly tat (Bettie Page, a Coop girl, something sexy), a Celtic armband or - this one I'm considering at the moment - a heraldric lion, rampant, with Celtic knotwork around it. Or, possibly, a Celtic cross of some sort. I'm not sure.

And it's not like I'm going to get it tomorrow, for God's sake. I've got to scoot around town and look and some portfolios, figure out who's art I like the best. I'll keep you posted.

So we got home this afternoon and I sat on the balcony, reading tattoo magazines. I went out a little while ago, glass of wine in hand, and enjoyed the cool breeze - from the north, for a change. This far south autumn is still a while away, but there's a taste of it in the air tonight.

I went to take a receipt off the bag I got at Virgin today and I stabbed the middle finger on my left hand with the staple. The pain was amazing and it bled like a motherfucker. I swore righteously, but a little fingertip band-aid, along with direct pressure and some alcohol, made everything okay.

It is weird, though, typing with a band-aid on my finger. I keep thinking, "why is my finger numb?"

The Wife got American Psycho on DVD today. I ask you again: just how cool is Sonya?

And, for your information, this is the uncut, unrated version. The controversial sex scene is included; it's not much dirtier, but it is funnier.

From a Yahoo! news article about the controversial "rats" commercial:

Bush said he was "convinced" that the ad was not intended to send a subliminal message. (Bush more than once mispronounced the word as "subliminable.")

I'm afraid in the upcoming election it's not left vs. right, right vs. wrong or good vs. evil; it's smart vs. dumb.

And for no good reason the recent brouhaha over Dubya's mis-speakings and possible dyslexia reminds me of something I saw on MTV, of all places, back in 1992.

MTV was big in the youth vote stuff back in '92, you'll remember, and Tabitha Soren's determined and spunky face was always on the tube, yammering about the upcoming election. MTV had a "town hall meeting," too, complete with Bill Clinton himself answering questions from Real Young People. Curt Loder and Tabitha were both there.

Then, in the dwindling days of the campaign Tabitha got an invitation to Join then-President Bush on a train as he made a whistle-stop tour to get out the last minute votes. It was a strange thing, and I'm surprised more wasn't made of it - both at the time and since then.

Soren was standing outside the train with Bush, asking him questions. He was waving at the people around him and barely answering her - letting long dead spaces fall between question and answer and giving her short, monosyllabic replies. It was obvious Bush didn't like this red-head from the rock and roll radio station or wherever she was from.

Afterwards, MTV did show a clip of Clinton at the town hall thing next to the one of Bush on the train. It was very effective for me to remember it eight years later, huh?

Clinton: (shaking young people's hands, grinning, talking, eating a hot dog, playing his saxaphone) Shabbadabbadooba!

Bush: (waving, frowning) You should vote for me because I'm the president. Don't you understand that?

Clinton: (doing a little dance, then leaning against a wall to flirt with a cheerleader) Sheebadobbadooba!

Bush: (motioning to Secret Service agent, pointing at Soren) What I'm wondering, Phil, is how the hell Lois Lane here got on my train.

Clinton: (handing out tallboys, bomber joint in the corner of his mouth, a blonde on each knee) Choose or lose, America!

Bush: (grim) No more questions.

And, speaking of all that, I walked right by Tabitha Soren on a back street in downtown Little Rock on election night that year. She had a small serious newswoman posse with her and looked, as usual, very determined. I think she was going somewhere to get the big story.

And my boss at the time got to introduce Clinton at a function that night - it was like, four the next morning, but he was still going strong, she said.

"He was hyped," she told me, "his voise was gone, sure, but the man was full of adrenaline. He could have jumped to Washington."

During all the recent fuss about Bobby Knight the word "Hoosiers" has been said with a more-than-usual frequency. Every time it happens, either Sonya or I will start into the speech from In and Out.

"Hoosiers. What is a Hoosier?"