Short Takes
Highway cops SUCK. Big time. Imagine, claiming I was going 71 in a 50 mph zone? I don't THINK so. I've gone online to arrange to plead not guilty (and the beauty of doing it online, if there is such a thing like beauty when dealing with this crap, is that you can choose where you go to plead your case -- otherwise, they will happily send you to the lousiest place possible), and get this: the ticket, written a week previously, had not been logged in. (But they're fierce about you responding within two weeks. Go figure.) Will this mean the ticket's disappeared? Well, I've covered my back, as I have a confirmation number that I responded to the as-yet-non-existent ticket. Perhaps this will help my case.
Crappy drivers SUCK. The very next day after my ticket, I was parked on 149th Street, outside my chiropractor's office, and someone clipped my side view mirror. I went running into the office, telling doc I needed another adjustment, pronto, and he came out and showed me how to manipulate the mirror into place. Fortunately, it wasn't knocked off and there's only some cosmetic damage on the casing, but the way they make cars these days, I will literally have to buy a whole side mirror unit and have it replaced for some godawful sum of money.
Was this really the best week to see my accountant? Actually, things went okay there, so I think I'm in a turnaround. The week ended much better than it started. I grilled some lovely filet mignons for me and my friend Dianna, got my butt kicked at Yahtzee, spent some relaxing time with books, cats and DVDs on Saturday, then had a wonderful Easter Sunday dinner with my family from another father and mother.
Things are definitely looking up.
In A Word, Hubris
Just call him Eliot Mess. The one-time "Sheriff of Wall Street" has been caught, almost literally, with his pants down, carousing with expensive prostitutes. As NY Rep. Pete King put it, normally one does not revel in someone else's personal problems, but when it comes to this holier-than-thou, unforgiving guy, that's a whole 'nother story. Yep, Spitzer, the governor of the state of New York has been hanging with working girls, who may work hard for the money, but are extremely well-paid.
Here's the kicker: Spitz comes from a very wealthy family, yet apparently does not know how to move said money from bank accounts in an undetectable way. What he did is called "structuring," and it happened enough so that his bank called in the IRS, fearing he was being blackmailed, or worse. What a dumbass. Had he casually withdrawn a couple thousand every few days from an ATM (as he paid in cash, not wanting to leave a money trail!), he might not have been caught. So, not only has he probably broken financial laws, his last recorded tryst (on the night before Valentine's Day, the rotter!) involved the prostitute du jour ("Kristen") being paid by the Love Guv to travel from NYC to meet him at the Mayflower Hotel in Washington, DC. For those of you who are not up on the laws about hookers (or fans of Chuck Berry), that's a violation of something called the Mann Act, which prohibits interstate travel for the purpose of illicit sex. Berry was busted for that very thing about 50 years ago, and did time. Let's hope that Eliot Mess doesn't skate away on that charge just because he's wealthy and white. Let's also hope his reported penchant for "unsafe sex" (his dislike of condoms) didn't bring any additional horrors home to wife Silda, who appears to be an intelligent (law degree from Harvard) and beautiful woman, perhaps with not-so-great taste in men. By all reports, the Love Guv will resign today and New York will have its first black governor, David Paterson, who makes news on another front: he will be the first-ever legally blind governor of the United States. He's served New York in a variety of roles for more than 20 years, as has his father, and he may be just what the doctor ordered after our 14 months of the Love Guv, or -- a nickname he gave himself and likely prefers -- the "Fucking Steamroller." Maybe James Taylor will write a new version of "Steamroller Blues" for Eliot Mess. I hope there are many verses about trading in the Fifth Avenue apartment for a cell in Sing Sing.
While on the subject of hubris, we certainly can't leave out Senator Barack Obama. Let's face it, Geraldine Ferraro called it: if he were a white guy, he would not be in the position he currently enjoys. I've been saying for months that Oprah would not have endorsed and supported the presidential candidacy of a white man with the same resume. Yes, Obama gives good speeches. Yes, he was against the war in Iraq (but not yet a senator, so he had no vote). Senator Clinton wasn't exactly for the war, but voted to go in -- as did many others -- based on faulty information provided by the government. She was not the only one hoodwinked by the Bush administration (just ask Colin Powell) -- we all were.
Obama can talk about his fabulous judgment until the cows come home, but that will never get me to believe that that will prove better than experience when it comes to running the country. As for being insulted for the Clinton statement that he would be a great vice president on her ticket, he asked how she could think he'd be a good vice president if she didn't think he had the experience to be president. Um, hello? Here's your chance to learn the job! The chief executive of this country cannot learn as he goes, which would be the case if he happens to be elected president. I'll be happy to vote for him in 2016, after he's had the necessary experience that will enable him to run the country, but not before. Frankly, a Clinton/Obama ticket would be good for this country and good for him, and one that I would fully support. Don't make me vote for McCain. Please. THINK, people!
