So, I went home this last weekend. It was a quick trip—Friday afternoon to Sunday afternoon—but a good one, as usual. Friday night, I went out to eat with the fam and then headed into Pitt to see some friends there. The rest of the weekend was spent just loungin’ around the Beave.

I was amazed, as I sat in the Austin airport on Friday, how different this trip felt than the October trip I went home my freshman year. That year, the trip was a little later (Oct. 21, if I recall correctly) and was originally scheduled so I could use my U2 ticket for Saturday night’s show at Mellon Arena.

I remember taking the bus to the airport and feeling this weird homesickness that I hadn’t really had until then, come over me. It was a really strange feeling, but not unreasonable, I suppose. After all, I had just spent two full months 1,000 miles away from a place which I had only been separated two consecutive weeks prior to this. When I finally got to Beaver, it was like seeing it for the first time.

On Friday as I sat in the airport, all I could think about was, “I’ve had chicken before, and this ‘chicken’ from Wok & Roll is no chicken.”

I don’t really know what the point of all of this is, except to say that it’s amazing how people are able to adapt and adjust to any change life throws your way. This feels so LiveJournal right now, I could puke.

Obviously the real reason I went home was because my nephew Eli asked me to take some “serious” shots of him. With all of the attention on “say cheese” in our society, he really feels like “somber Eli” is underrepresented. Enjoy.

You can read my posts from the 2006 and 2007 October trips home here (wow, that kid was a terrible writer). Sadly, the 2005 trip home to see U2 was pre-Jeety’s Joint.

The sky is falling, my friends (copyright J.McCain), and I’m not talking about the $700 billion bailout. To be honest, I would have written a post or two about that, but I don’t feel like I know even enough to crack wise–a sad notion for me. By the way, the next time you see me, please use the phrase “cracking wise.” I enjoy it immensely.

No, what I’m talking about is much more sinister than any federally-funded, campaign-suspending, Pelosi-sponsored act of Congress. Well, it might not be as scary as the last part, but those are decisions best left up to the suits in Washington. I am, of course, referring to birds.

As if we needed another reason to cower from those feathery fiends, a story from LiveScience.com reveals what I’ve been saying for years: birds are dinosaurs and dinosaurs were birds. Okay, the science isn’t exactly as simple as that, but I’m actually shielding you from the truth. Check out this headline:

“Bus-Sized Dinosaur Breathed Like Birds”

In case you’re a little slow, I will put this into context for you. A dinosaur, the size of a bus–that enormous hunk of metal, capable of carrying up to 48 units of our most-precious cargo [the childrens]–was, at one point, roaming the Earth… with the breathing apparatus… of a BIRD. Why do I feel like I’m the only one alarmed? Screw Fannie and Freddie, who’s keeping their eye on Tweety?!

Here’s the lead:

A huge carnivorous dinosaur that lived about 85 million years ago had a breathing system much like that of today’s birds, a new analysis of fossils reveals, reinforcing the evolutionary link between dinos and modern birds.

If these ravenous beasts previously filled their days in a bloodthirsty pursuit of meat, who’s to say their psychotic cousins (BIRDS, if you just joined us) aren’t plotting to do the same? Or, more menacingly (and in terms of menaces, they make this guy look like Mr. Rogers), perhaps they’ve been combining their resources for millions of years in an attempt to bring back this hollow-boned predator. It’s not that far out of the realm of possibility… right?

Either way, I’ve obviously cancelled all plans for the rest of the week and will be conducting my business from indoors. To the rest of you, courage.

I’m trying my hand at my first “live blog.” For those of you unfamiliar, here’s how it works. I sit at my computer, watch the debate, think of witty comments and post them on my blog as I think of them. Your job in this whole arrangement is to sit at home, starved for my hilarity as I dole it out throughout the debate. Basically it’s a lot like our current relationship, except in a micro-format.

I’ve been watching CNN before the debate, and apparently they think we’re really interested in what people in Columbus, Ohio think about the debate. I have to watch their response bar graph at the bottom of my screen the whole time. I have a Magnavox TV and it’s good and everything, but I’m not sure it’s going to be able to handle the responses if the following terms are mentioned: Drew Carey, buckeye, corn hole.

I’m also considering turning this into a drinking game of sorts. Here’s how it works: take a shot every time you can hear Jeffrey Toobin breaking something on the CNN set as John McCain talks. We now wait for the debate!

8:00 Wolf Blitzer just clarified that the University of Mississippi is, in fact, in the state of Mississippi. If you were expecting to learn something tonight, begin a tally.

8:03 Someone forgot McCain’s stack of phonebooks for behind the podium. Let the gaffs begin.

8:04 Obama gets the first question.

8:06 Someone forgot to tell McCain that Kennedy is already back home.

8:08 Lehrer is showing why he’s hosted the most debates of any other journalist. After the two had an opportunity to answer his question (”Where do you stand on the $700 bailout?”), he asked them the question again. Perhaps they need the SAP button activated on their TVs.

8:12 AHHHHH! Lehrer told Obama to say what he just said directly to McCain… and he did! (Jump, how high, anyone?) McCain asked, “What, were you afraid I couldn’t hear him?” This thing is writing itself.

8:18 We’ve entered McCain’s wheelhouse: earmarks. In his defense, Obama tried to make $18 billion in earmarks sound like “not that much.”

8:20 First invocation of “the same as the last eight years.” Bottoms up!

8:25 The emergence of the creepy smile. McCain can’t help himself sometimes, it just emerges like the alien out of the guy’s stomach in “Alien” (or “Space Balls,” if you prefer, except that instead of a charming alien singing the “Michigan Rag” with top hat and cane, it’s the most horrifying face you’ve ever seen).

8:29 McCain just lost Iowa. “I would oppose ethanol subsidies.” Forget the cornhuskers, Iowa is the most corn-centered state in the union. Incidently, a recent poll has found that their passion for the vegetable is only second to Idaho’s love of the potato.

8:33 Is anyone considering voting for Lehrer instead of either of these goofs on the stage? We’re in the middle of the most major financial crisis of our time, and neither one of them are addressing the fact that it’s going to change the way they have to govern.

8:38 Obama just used the phrase “orgy of spending.” I feel dirty.

8:40 The first mention of what this debate was supposed to be about: foreign policy! Mention of Gen. David Patraeus got a huge spike in Republican and Independent bar graphs. Anyone think maybe he would have been a good runningmate?

8:50 A favorite phrase of Jack Bechdel is uttered by McCain: “Snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.”

8:56 Sorry, I’ve been dozing off. I’m a political junkie, and I’m bored. How can this be?

9:00 We’ve descended into bracelet contests. Are you kidding me? “Well, I’ve got a bracelet, and mine means X, so… ya know… I guess I should be president.” Talk about exciting the voters–I wish I could vote now!

9:04 McCain brings up the idea of an international “League of Democracies,” something I’ve studied in government classes. Not a bad idea, seeing as how the U.N. is next to worthless. For those of you unfamiliar, it’s much like the meeting of the five famlies in “The Godfather,” but much, much lamer.

9:10 Obama will not, repeat will NOT, invite Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad to the United States for tea. The Brits just took one collective gasp.

9:14 The learning just keeps coming. McCain: “The average South Korean is three inches taller than the average North Korean.” While that is remarkable, I can’t help but wonder if that survey wasn’t taken on April Fools or something of the like.

9:26 Last question, “What is the likelihood of another 9/11 attack?” McCain: much less than the day after 9/11. Obama: we’re safer in some ways, but we still have a long way to go.

Hey all, just wanted to let you know that I’m not dead nor do I plan to be soon, but that my computer is on the brink and my time around/near the Internet is limited. In the mean time… read a book? I suggest East of Eden. I think I’ll do a post about that sometime soon. Or if my computer dies, I’ll begin to write letters to you all. I’m going to need SASE’s though. Be well, and if I don’t speak to you before Friday, WATCH THE DEBATE. Love, Jeets.

I’ve been in a giggly mood lately, and it ain’t from the usual culprits (i.e. excessive drug use, et al.). No, I can definitively say it’s because funny things have been finding their way to me, and I’m making it my goal help them find their way to you.

The September issue of Rolling Stone is this year’s “Comedy Issue.” Apparently this is something they do every year (correct me if I’m wrong–I’ve honestly never heard of it, although I do own something like 6 RS magazines with David Letterman on the cover, and I’m sure one or all of them are the “Comedy Issue”). By the way, this issue also has a review of Lindsey Buckingham’s newest release, “Gift of Screws,” which I am patiently waiting for at my doorstep any day in both CD and vinyl formats.

What a tangent. Anyway, in this year’s comedy issue, with Letterman on the cover along with 30 Rock’s Tina Fey and comedian Chris Rock, it asks many prominent comedians who their influences were, how they got started, and who they think is good/underrated. Simply put, it is excellent.

They also include a section where comedians can tell their “favorite joke.” Granted some of them are a little coarse, but they’re all funny. Don Rickles’ is particularly good, so I’m going to pass that one along to you:

It’s not a joke so much as a true story. This was before I was married, and I’ve been married 43 years, so that’s a long time ago. I was in the lounge in the Sands hotel with this girl. I wanted to be a big hero with her, and she said, “Do you know Frank Sinatra?” He was at another table, so I said, “‘Course I do!” She said, “Oh, my God, if I can only meet him.” I said, “Relax, relax.” And I got up, and walked over and I said, “Frank, if you can come over to the table to just say hello, it’ll help me with this girl. But don’t come over right away–give me a few minutes with her first.” He said, “OK, sure.” So I went back and sat down with her and we had a drink, and the violins were playing in the lounge. Sure enough, Frank walked over after a few minutes and said, “Don, how are you?” And I got up and said, “Frank, not now. Can’t you see I’m with somebody?”

In other funny news, my brother Kevin sent me a link yesterday that had me in tears I was laughing so hard. Apparently the Washington Post put a call out to high school teachers, asking them to forward to the Post the worst metaphors they had ever received in written assignments. The results are nothing short of spectacular. Without further ado, I give you my picks as the best from the collection. The complete list can be seen here, in its 56-metaphor entirety.

She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

[And my personal favorite] The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM.

Hope you had a good laugh.

I confess! I’ve been seeing another blog.

Yes, as a class assignment, I’ve had to start and maintain a blog (for the week, I think?) about whatever topic of my choice. I don’t know what the “Netiquette” for this type of thing is, but I figured I might as well be honest about it. It’s been taking a bit of my time (I forgot what a pain it is to get started!). Plus, the free version of Wordpress is repulsive.

Anyway, I chose politics (mostly so that you, my faithful readers, won’t have to read about it daily). That’s actually something I had been thinking about anyway–starting an all-political blog. I mainly decided against it because I’m realistic enough to realize what the Blog Stats for that kind of page would look like. So, long story short, The Political Pulse is my new digs for this week. I shamelessly list the RSS feed for Jeety’s Joint on that page so all my classmates can see what a weirdo I am. I see this going well.

Readers of the Joint should enjoy reading the posts at the Pulse. The once die-hard McCain fan is suddenly a journalist above the fray of political bias. I feel more like a real journalist every day. (As a side note and final comment, I predict we will look back on this period of journalism and laugh tremendously. Oh Watergate!)

Seven years have somehow passed since the attacks of September 11, 2001. It has become my generation’s “JFK assassination,” in that everyone can remember where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news. Unlike the murder in Dallas, which was instantly recognizable as a terrifying and defining event in our culture, the unfolding events of 9/11 initially seemed to play out in a much less clear-cut manner that morning.

Below you will find a series of recollections from individuals I’ve asked to contribute to today’s post. Collectively, you’ll see themes of confusion and bewilderment , as well as a sense of comfort and admiration for the brave men and women who lost their lives to save others. But individually, you will see that each person’s experience stand uniquely on its own as that person’s experience. I know this post is long, and if you don’t read them all at once, that’s fine. But read them.

First is a fellow high school classmate of mine, Sara Roper. Many of her experiences this day were my experiences, too. It’s interesting though, reading over these recollections, how someone is able to remember a detail that’s completely forgotten by another until it’s brought up again. So many details filled that day, and we’re only able to carry a few of them with us. She writes,

I was coming out of my second period gym class when I first heard. It was the girls spilling out of second period Concert Choir who told us that something big was happening. It was a mess of mixed-up details, everyone saying something different, nothing really coming together to make any sort of probable story. I went straight to third period Biology in the library. The TV was on for most of class and shockingly enough, the mess of mixed-up details were true. A plane had flown into the twin towers. Not just one, two planes. Another crashed into the Pentagon. And one was missing in Somerset County. The rest of the day was a blur. I can’t say exactly when the towers collapsed, I can’t remember if I watched it happen live or not. I mostly remember how differently people were reacting. Mr. K, a biology teacher, was taking mysterious phone calls as a member of the military. Mr. Signore, my Latin teacher, was insistent that learning was going to take place and stopping everything to watch the news was simply not happening. Lunchtime was an odd scramble of movement and whispers. Parents were appearing out of nowhere to get their kids, administrators and secretaries were taking messages to students or taking them out to meet their parents. It was unreal. All I could think to myself was, “how did this happen?” When I got home that day, my Dad informed me that they hadn’t told the elementary school. Kristofer had no idea what was going on, no idea that our country had been changed forever. Changed forever. It was a harsh reality to face and all at once. It was like a huge bubble had suddenly been popped. I felt like our generation had been raised into a world where America was number one, the greatest and freest nation in the whole world, and no one could touch us or ruin our little fairytale. Then, all at once, that idea was shattered. Yet, the next day driving to school I saw that every house down Sixth Street hung a flag or bunting that usually was only brought out for the obligatory holiday decoration. For months, they stayed out and I remember feeling pride at being part of a country that was able to gather together and show such unity.

Next is my sister-in-law, Jackie Bechdel. At the time she was a biology junior at Niagara University in New York. Jackie saw the experience through the eyes of a college student and member of the ROTC program. She writes,

I was up to my normal Tuesday routine, up early for physical training then off to breakfast. While I was sitting in the cafeteria the news told the story of a horrible accident at the twin towers… that a plane had hit one of the towers, and that was all they knew. Like everyone else, I just thought it was a horrible accident so I went on my way to Cell Biology. Immediately after class had ended, we all heard the news of another airplane into the other tower and the plane that hit the Pentagon. Just about everyone was gathered at Gallagher hall to watch the big TVs to see what was happening. All of the Priests and other clergy were there consoling students as the towers collapsed. The school was put on some kind of high alert because of the alleged threat to the Niagara Power Authority which was less then 2 miles up the river from the school. Classes were cancelled that day and the next, and students were urged to go stay with family or friends. There wasn’t a free phone line anywhere! You couldn’t call out and no one could call in. I spent the rest of that day and the next in the chapel with all of the other scared and confused students.

My middle brother, Scott Bechdel, was a college student at the time, as well, studying history at Purdue University in Indiana. Unlike many of us who had instant access to images, Scott heard about the tragedy before seeing it. He writes,

On the morning of Tuesday, September 11, 2001, I was in the car with my two roommates on my way to class. A report came over the radio and said a plane had hit the World Trade Center but they gave no other details. We all agreed that it was most likely a prop plane with some pilot that may have gotten off course and hit a tower because of fog. Little did we know what actually happened. It was not until I went into the student union on campus that I realized that an airplane had been hijacked and crashed into the first, and then second, tower. Everyone was crowded around the TVs and had the same expression of disbelief on their faces. It came time for me to get to my Philosophy class and when we arrived in the room the professor walked into class and told us we were all excused and to call home. Classes were cancelled that day and the next and candlelight vigils were held all over campus. I remember spending the next week glued to the TV as the workers removed debris looking for survivors and watching the death toll rise. We sat watching the TV for hours not knowing what to expect or what to say.

My oldest brother, Kevin Bechdel, had recently graduated from Purdue and had begun teaching elementary school in Beaver, Pennsylvania. Unlike the previous writers who were students, Kevin found himself in the difficult position of leadership on that day. He writes,

In some instances it seems like the tragedy of 9-11 happened not too long ago. The images of the planes flying into the World Trade Center, the towers and Pentagon billowing smoke, the “Let’s roll” quote from Thomas Burnett all seem very vivid and recent in my memory. In other instances it seems like a long time ago. Although my son Eli has only been with us for a little more than two and a half years, it seems like his birth was a milestone that dates my life. Back in 2001 I was in my very first year of teaching at Beaver. I was not hired full time, but I was working as a full time 3rd grade teacher in a permanent substitute position. The very first memory I have of the day was during a prep period when I was looking at CNN for current events for an afternoon activity. I got a half loaded page that contained no words, but had a picture of the Pentagon smoking. Although I thought this was odd, I didn’t start putting the pieces of the day together until Cathy Dixon, a co-worker, came down to my room and let me know that something was definitely not OK. I didn’t grasp the entire situation until I went to the faculty room for lunch. There a TV was set up, and I could watch everything that occurred as news anchors tried to compile the information and report it to the public. I think one of the things that really showed how huge this event was, at least to the severity of the situation, was that many of the news channels simply did not know what was happening and they did not know how to portray that to the American public. As the afternoon progressed, parents of the many of the students in my class and many more from the rest of the school came to take their children home. This was because of the fact that we really had no idea what the magnitude of the situation was and the community was very scared.
Rumors circled from the parents and others about the nuclear power plant located just a few miles away and whether or not it would be a target. Some were wondering who or what had issued the attacks and why? As I was released from work, I met Jen at home in our apartment and we watched the various news channels for the rest of the evening and most of the next day as well. When I look back a the day of 9-11-2001 I remember a day of fear, confusion, and anger. As time past so did the confusion as many facts surfaced about the involvement of the Taliban and Osama Bin Laden. The fear of the situation was tempered by the precautions and information that came in the following weeks and months. The anger lingered. Actually, the anger lingers still with most of us to this day, seven years removed from the event itself. Nothing in my teaching career has matched the chaos that swept through the school that day, and nothing in my personal life has brought forth so many emotions simultaneously.

Kristin Cipriani was a fellow freshman with Sara and I at Beaver Area High School on 9/11. For many of us, the post-9/11 culture has now encompassed at least a third of our lives. While that day seems like a long time ago with respect to our development as men and women, it still remains a part of our day-to-day lives. She writes,

Seven years ago. I stopped walking yesterday when I realized that 9/11 happened seven years ago. While the discussion of September 11 has occurred in so many of my classes this week, it took realizing the elapsed time before I began to understand the importance of this event, yet again.
Seven years ago. I was 14. A freshman at Beaver Area High School, I had made the smooth transition through the first day. It was the night after the first day that a poor landing at gymnastics led to my first mission of high school: being the lovely freshman who would show off the latest accessory, crutches. Due to my dedication to my mission, I could not participate in gym class. As I sat in study hall a week later, a student entered and said we had to turn on the TV. After watching for just a few moments, it became apparent that something was horribly wrong. Though not completely sure of what exactly had occurred or the tremendous impact of the event on the future, the school day continued with students confused and wondering “What’s next?”
Seven years ago…is so much like today. Although we are aware of what occurred, and the mayhem of that day cannot be compared to, the tremendous impact of the event for the future is still unknown to us. Our day today will continue, and Americans will still question “What’s next?”
Time has elapsed and the initial shock and heartache have worn away, but the memories from that day and week are far from faded. Emotions of respect, appreciation and patriotism have grown and so has our personal need to hold onto those memories. It is through our memories that we are able to honor the bravery shown that week. It should not take the realization of elapsed time to make us remember an event, but the realization that we lived through an event we cannot forget.

Finally, our last writer, Candace Lee, a high school freshman in College Station, Texas has a different perspective than each of the writers above, if based solely on her remoteness from what was taking place. Those of us in Pennsylvania and New York felt very much connected to the unfolding attacks, but here we see that to understand enormous events, it’s perhaps easier to connect them to local tragedies. She writes,

Seven years ago, I was a freshman in high school. Every morning, we had tennis practice at 6:15 (sounds ridiculous, but hey, we were pretty good so it felt somewhat justified) through first period, so by the time I got out of the locker room, it was already after 9. I distinctly remember walking into my World History class and seeing the entire class huddled around the TV. Someone told me that the World Trade Center was hit by a plane. But at the age of 14, I had never even heard of the twin towers, so of course I didn’t realize the magnitude of what had happened. I knew it was a big deal though, because all we did in every single class that day was watch the news. Because of that, I compared it to the Bonfire Tragedy that had happened a few years before. (I guess this would be a good time to mention that I grew up in College Station.) I remember my biology teacher being in a frantic state, trying to get a hold of her brother who lived in New York City. I remember the moment of silence we held after saying the Pledge of Allegiance, the celebrities who donated their own millions to the relief fund, the colored terrorism levels. Basically, I had no idea what effects September 11th would have on our country and the rest of the world, and I’m not sure that I still do. But hat I’ll remember most is the unity that came from it—the entire nation coming together to help, to comfort, to pray, to save. I wish that attitude had lasted a little longer…

I want to thank the people who helped contribute to this post. I really appreciate it and hope you found it to be a worthwhile experience. Whatever the rest of the day holds for you, remember those who lost their lives, those who volunteered to help any way they could, and those that helped us cope with the tragedy of that day.

I don’t think it’s too ridiculous to say that “Mo Money Mo Problems” by the Notorious B.I.G. (and Puff Daddy and Mase) is one of the greatest creative outputs of our time… right up there with Heelys and Surge. But what am I telling you that you don’t already know?

One of the best lines of the song, a part “laid down” by Puff Daddy (that’s P. Diddy to you kids today) goes a little like this: “Never home, gotta call me on the yacht/ ten years from now we’ll still be on top/Yo, I thought I told you we won’t stop.”

Hmm. Still on top, you say? Really? Let’s take another look. That song came out in 1997, and here we are 11 years later. Let’s do a “Where are they now?” with the Notorious B.I.G., Sean “Puffy” Combs, and Mason “Mase” Betha.

1. Biggie: dead. His ten-year run was actually cut short by negative 3 weeks—he was shot (more than likely by the zombie of 2Pac) just before the release of the album, eerily titled “Life After Death.”

2. Puffy: (somehow) still alive. I think it’s safe to say that whoever the killer was, after he heard “I’ll Be Missin’ You,” he realized he shot the wrong man (Ugh, the Police and Puffy… honestly, could anything be worse? That’s a serious question.). Ten years after the release of “Mo Money,” Diddy is on YouTube looking for a secretary. “You know I’m the best and I like working with the best,” the video says. In his defense, he didn’t explain what he meant by “best.” If, for instance, he meant “best at sinking a career by whoring yourself out to Burger King,” then yes, he is correct. I’ll let you decide:

3. Mase: who?

As for me, ten years later? I was twelve, but… Same ol’ pimp, you know ain’t nothin’ change but my limp.

Strolling around UT’s campus today in the lovely 110% humidty (I saw two people melt on the sidewalk today. Two.), I got to thinking about the education I’m receiving here. Ya know, it’s pretty good. My major allows me some room to take electives, and if chosen wisely, I’m able to graduate with a broad base of knowledge that runs deep in particular areas.

But I couldn’t help but think that UT isn’t fully preparing me for the “real world.” For that, I have Tony Soprano.

You see, I’ve found in the Soprano family the skillz to pay the billz, as it were. My argument is comprehensive, and you’ll undoubtedly feel “cut” (a word that needs to see more action, if you ask me) and humiliated when I’m done—the goal of all my posts.

First of all, watching the Sopranos is just good business sense. Sure, I could have applied to the McCombs School and become a drone like the rest of the robots they churn out (sorry friends!). But no. Instead, I borrow or rent DVDs and model my life after the characters in them. Already that’s a smart business move. DVD rental: $4.50/each. Tuition: more than that. And Tony’s a shrewd businessman. First of all, he has two jobs. The first, known as a “front” to the “G Men,” is in Waste Management. (Note: This will come in handy later.) The second is primarily wreaking havoc on the very foundation of society as we know it. As you might guess, there are plusses and minuses to both.

Tony didn’t finish college. Now, you may be thinking this is why he is working two jobs, but you’d be wrong. As it turns out, he has a pretty nice house… and millions of dollars. That’s the kind of work ethic you can’t find in today’s youth. But it’s not all work with Tony. He’s also a devoted family man. In fact, similarly to the two jobs, Tony has two families!

There you go again… I’m sure you’re thinking “Golly, this two-timing, no-good fella must think he’s just the cat’s meow.” But it’s not like that. His one family is a wife, two kids and various extended family members, just like yours and mine. His other family is comprised of an elaborate buddy system of theives, liars, strongmen and murderers who patiently await his orders. I don’t know about you, but to be able to balance two jobs and two families, this guy must be doing something right!

Another benefit to watching the show is cultural awareness. For instance, I was unaware that certain four-letter words can actually function as a noun, verb, adjective, adverb and exclamation. Talk about useful! As a writer, I’m constantly looking for new words and phrases to dazzle the eye and ear. The Soprano families do not disappoint.

Oh yeah, and that “useful” part about Waste Management? Think of it as “hide and seek” between Person X and the Feds, where the person isn’t necessarily “hiding,” so much as, well… Needless to say, the hiders are really, really good.

Letterman devotees should recognize the title of this post as a classic line from the mid-late 90s, but here it has a little bit of a different meaning… not that it had any meaning at all back then, either.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it seems like the new buzz word (or phrase, I guess) this year for political pundits has been “red meat.” Fred Thompson had a lot of red meat in his speech. Rudy’s speech was 100% ground chuck, and we’re talking Fuddrucker’s size burgers, too. So I guess my question is as follows: What the hell?

Was I simply too young to remember these blatantly pro-poultry comments in the last election cycle, or is this something new? And if it’s new, why is there no formal introduction? I’m sitting there, watching Mitt Romney (who, while supporting John McCain, still has lingering questions about his origins, vis-a-vis the “actual spawn of Satan” rumors), and all of a sudden I’ve got the hankering for prime rib.

The poultristas (poultry + ista, the best suffix ever created) sure are having a good laugh about this one. The media, having long abandoned their role as unpartial mediators in meat- and food-related debate, have jumped on the poultry and “other white meat” agenda-setting bandwagon. As an American, I am outraged. Red meat makes red-blooded Americans. And without those, well, fuggetabou’it.

And while the pundits eat their tofu and Spam, they’ll undoubtedly be discussing the recently-concluded Republican National Convention. Last night, in front of millions, John McCain accepted his party’s nomination for the presidency. To be honest, it was a bit of a proud moment for me. Although my support for J. Mac long pre-dated it, I posted on November 28 last year my plan, titled “Jeets: To Save America.” Re-reading the post is good for a laugh—the nation was largely preparing for a “subway series” between fellow New Yorkers Hillary Clinton and Rudy Giuliani. We should have been listening to Obama’s “The Times They Are a-Changin’” (…what do you mean he didn’t write that?). As a caveat to readers for future blog posts, I reminded them of my close connection to candidate McCain:

On top of that, we go on weekend hunting/fishing trips dressed in matching American flag pants. You know, right leg stars, left leg stripes.

With everything having been disclosed, I felt it safe to throw my full support behind the senator from Arizona. Aside from the outdated poll numbers in that post, nearly everything else came true. Republicans DID nominate someone who appeals more to the center, and while they’re still likely to lose seats in the House and Senate, the White House is still very much in contention. And speaking of polls, I would imagine there will be a new one early next week that should see a slight (and likely temporary) bump in McCain’s numbers thanks to the convention and well-delivered speech by his runningmate, Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin.

And as a random afterthought, I heard the following quote on CNN last night after the convention. It was so hilarious/ridiculous that I had to write it down, just to share it with you. Consider yourself… blessed.

John McCain makes me want to be a better woman.” –some crazy woman in Times Square.