Wow. I am absolutely in shock over this.
And to think that around 40% of Delaware voters support a candidate
who actually didn't know what the First Amendment is, claiming that
"Senators don't have to memorize the Constitution."
No, Christine, but they should know it.
Just to reiterate what kind of candidates that the Tea Party deems
worthy to serve in positions of power and influence, take a very
frightening scroll through the mind of someone who just might
represent the Silver State come November.
And just how frightening are these Tea Party candidates? You
tell me:
--A governor-turned-VP-nominee-turned-FOX News-pundit
whose experience in foreign affairs didn't exist outside of Wasilla.
--A 'self-certified opthalmologist' who thinks that civil rights laws
were a mistake and minimalizes a drug problem in a drug-ridden state.
--A candidate who claimed to having taken classes at Princeton, had to
admit to a) having never graduated and b) "dating a witch on a satanic
altar."
--A politician who doesn't know where the 9/11 attackers came from and
who verbalized to the class that a classroom of Latino students "looked
more Asian to me."
I need some Pepto Bismol.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Bert and Ernie.
In 1915, Republican Edwin Morrow and Democrat Augustus
Stanley both wanted to be Kentucky's next governor. They
campaigned vigorously in the stump-speaking fashion of the
day, and the barbs that the candidates threw at each other
were brutal; often vicious. Legend has it that Stanley actually
got drunk at one of their debates. He threw up while Morrow
was speaking, saying afterwards that "Ed Morrow just makes
me sick to my stomach!" Referring to Democratic corruption,
Morrow once commented that by electing Stanley, the State
would be attempting to "clean house with a dirty broom."
You would think that, just like today's politicians, they
probably couldn't stand the sight of each other. Still, for all
of the mileage that the media probably got out of making these
candidates seem adversarial, the reality was rather ironic:
It wasn't true at all.
For all of their political differences, Morrow and Stanley
were surprisingly close friends. While campaigning, each
would deliver firey attacks against the other--and would then
meet for dinner after the debates. Once, they were even
spotted helping each other walk down a street after a 'spirited'
evening. They traveled to the same rallies together. The
politicians continued to be friends until Morrow's death 20
years later. Both were ex-governors by that time, Morrow
having succeeded Stanley in his own right.
Bipartisan friendships like these aren't archaic--they're just
uncommon. Senator Richard Lugar, a conservative Indiana
Republican and Senator Patrick Leahy, a liberal Vermont
Democrat, have been colleagues and good friends for over
thirty-five years. They have visited each others' homes and
one story tells that their children live within 100 yards of
each other with their families and share a playground. In
addition to the comraderie, they have written various bills
together.
As Kentucky has recently made headlines with the nasty
developments in its U.S. Senate race, I wonder how Jack
Conway and Rand Paul could serve themselves and society
by taking notice and learning from stories like these?
Couldn't we all?
Stanley both wanted to be Kentucky's next governor. They
campaigned vigorously in the stump-speaking fashion of the
day, and the barbs that the candidates threw at each other
were brutal; often vicious. Legend has it that Stanley actually
got drunk at one of their debates. He threw up while Morrow
was speaking, saying afterwards that "Ed Morrow just makes
me sick to my stomach!" Referring to Democratic corruption,
Morrow once commented that by electing Stanley, the State
would be attempting to "clean house with a dirty broom."
You would think that, just like today's politicians, they
probably couldn't stand the sight of each other. Still, for all
of the mileage that the media probably got out of making these
candidates seem adversarial, the reality was rather ironic:
It wasn't true at all.
For all of their political differences, Morrow and Stanley
were surprisingly close friends. While campaigning, each
would deliver firey attacks against the other--and would then
meet for dinner after the debates. Once, they were even
spotted helping each other walk down a street after a 'spirited'
evening. They traveled to the same rallies together. The
politicians continued to be friends until Morrow's death 20
years later. Both were ex-governors by that time, Morrow
having succeeded Stanley in his own right.
Bipartisan friendships like these aren't archaic--they're just
uncommon. Senator Richard Lugar, a conservative Indiana
Republican and Senator Patrick Leahy, a liberal Vermont
Democrat, have been colleagues and good friends for over
thirty-five years. They have visited each others' homes and
one story tells that their children live within 100 yards of
each other with their families and share a playground. In
addition to the comraderie, they have written various bills
together.
As Kentucky has recently made headlines with the nasty
developments in its U.S. Senate race, I wonder how Jack
Conway and Rand Paul could serve themselves and society
by taking notice and learning from stories like these?
Couldn't we all?
Monday, October 18, 2010
Debating for the Love of Kentucky - Part II
Like guests at a wedding, debate attendees in Bigelow Hall at
UofL's Miller IT building were seated on different sides of the
aisle. In this case, most Conway supporters sat to the left of
the podium while the pro-Paul faction held forth from the
right (coincidental? I think not.)
The tension in the room was knife-worthy. I found it telling
that as the room filled to a standing-only capacity, people
looked for seats in their respective 'camps'--instead of seats
that were merely available. In time, the reason for the tension
came striding down the aisle in the form of Attorney General
Conway and Dr. Paul. Both seemed barely able to hold their
disdain for the other.
Jack Conway, appearing his usual-confident self, delivered a
standard opening statement, peppered with a recap of Rand
Paul's blunders and made a direct, as-humble-as-Jack-can-get
plea for our votes. What followed was something out of the
Twilight Zone.
Appearing borderline-disheveled, Dr. Paul wasted no time on
niceties and verbally went for Conway's throat. Although Dr.
Paul clearly showed that he was agitated at what he perceived
as Conway's attacks on his Christian faith, the Republican's
comments came out of nowhere. I got the impression that most
people either hadn't seen these ads or thought that Dr. Paul got
a little too hot-headed a little too quickly.
Unfortunately, the opening statements set the tone for the
debate. The audience's frustration at the personal attacks
was evidenced by a loud voice four rows behind me, yelling,
"Talk about the ISSUES!" Though I didn't care for the random
sound blast, I was inclined to agree.
When he wasn't sounding like a broken record when reciting
Rand Paul's college misbehavior, Democrat Conway went into
the same mode when discussing his record. Although it was
painful to hear repeatedly, Conway was obviously proud of his
record as Attorney General. When his answers didn't involve
character attacks, Conway came across as competent and
knowledgeable on the issues. He undoubtedlyscored a few
points with seniors and veterans, masking the usual political
pandering with half-genuine-sounding ideas, such the need for
a veterans nursing home in Central Kentucky.
Dr. Paul spent much of the evening in whine-mode. From
using the "have you no decency?" line from the McCarthy
era, to contemptously addressing how Conway attacked
his beliefs on Social Security, Paul opened himself up to a
direct "Do you believe this or not?" question from a one of
the moderators. Dr. Paul's wordiness and whining about
being attacked completely evaded any kind of simple answer.
Near the end of the debate, Paul's admonishings to Conway to
"be a man" and to "grow up" finally got to the Attorney General.
Gripping the edge of the podium hard, Conway replied that as
Attorney General, he " is always amused to get a lecture on law
from a self-certified opthamologist." Good one.
Jack Conway comes across as smug. He is a well-educated
"city boy" who seems to have little time for challenges to his
positions--but he'll get my vote. Because even if AG Conway
shows more than just a dash of arrogance, Rand Paul's lack of
a correctly-conveyed platform and his style of shooting-off-
the-hip make him appear dangerously inexperienced. As a
member of the crowd who knows that Conway definitely isn't
a Kentucky "good ol' boy", I still walked away believing that
Conway's positions were clear and that he knew enough to
represent the Commonwealth appropriately. I couldn't say
the same for Dr. Paul, who tapped so much into the sound-
bite of restoring America to the way it was that he didn't seem
to have much of a plan for its future.
The closing statements denoted the hostility in the room when,
after Conway's broken-record speech of reiterating his positions
and Dr. Paul's weaknesses, Rand Paul announced that he would
not shake Jack Conway's hand. The doctor proceeded to walk
right past the Attorney General and off the stage.
This was a calculated move to garner support from the perceived-
enraged Christian voter. Instead, it likely backfired on Dr. Paul,
showcasing him as a whiny candidate who couldn't stand the heat,
lacking as much in class as he does in credentials.
UofL's Miller IT building were seated on different sides of the
aisle. In this case, most Conway supporters sat to the left of
the podium while the pro-Paul faction held forth from the
right (coincidental? I think not.)
The tension in the room was knife-worthy. I found it telling
that as the room filled to a standing-only capacity, people
looked for seats in their respective 'camps'--instead of seats
that were merely available. In time, the reason for the tension
came striding down the aisle in the form of Attorney General
Conway and Dr. Paul. Both seemed barely able to hold their
disdain for the other.
Jack Conway, appearing his usual-confident self, delivered a
standard opening statement, peppered with a recap of Rand
Paul's blunders and made a direct, as-humble-as-Jack-can-get
plea for our votes. What followed was something out of the
Twilight Zone.
Appearing borderline-disheveled, Dr. Paul wasted no time on
niceties and verbally went for Conway's throat. Although Dr.
Paul clearly showed that he was agitated at what he perceived
as Conway's attacks on his Christian faith, the Republican's
comments came out of nowhere. I got the impression that most
people either hadn't seen these ads or thought that Dr. Paul got
a little too hot-headed a little too quickly.
Unfortunately, the opening statements set the tone for the
debate. The audience's frustration at the personal attacks
was evidenced by a loud voice four rows behind me, yelling,
"Talk about the ISSUES!" Though I didn't care for the random
sound blast, I was inclined to agree.
When he wasn't sounding like a broken record when reciting
Rand Paul's college misbehavior, Democrat Conway went into
the same mode when discussing his record. Although it was
painful to hear repeatedly, Conway was obviously proud of his
record as Attorney General. When his answers didn't involve
character attacks, Conway came across as competent and
knowledgeable on the issues. He undoubtedlyscored a few
points with seniors and veterans, masking the usual political
pandering with half-genuine-sounding ideas, such the need for
a veterans nursing home in Central Kentucky.
Dr. Paul spent much of the evening in whine-mode. From
using the "have you no decency?" line from the McCarthy
era, to contemptously addressing how Conway attacked
his beliefs on Social Security, Paul opened himself up to a
direct "Do you believe this or not?" question from a one of
the moderators. Dr. Paul's wordiness and whining about
being attacked completely evaded any kind of simple answer.
Near the end of the debate, Paul's admonishings to Conway to
"be a man" and to "grow up" finally got to the Attorney General.
Gripping the edge of the podium hard, Conway replied that as
Attorney General, he " is always amused to get a lecture on law
from a self-certified opthamologist." Good one.
Jack Conway comes across as smug. He is a well-educated
"city boy" who seems to have little time for challenges to his
positions--but he'll get my vote. Because even if AG Conway
shows more than just a dash of arrogance, Rand Paul's lack of
a correctly-conveyed platform and his style of shooting-off-
the-hip make him appear dangerously inexperienced. As a
member of the crowd who knows that Conway definitely isn't
a Kentucky "good ol' boy", I still walked away believing that
Conway's positions were clear and that he knew enough to
represent the Commonwealth appropriately. I couldn't say
the same for Dr. Paul, who tapped so much into the sound-
bite of restoring America to the way it was that he didn't seem
to have much of a plan for its future.
The closing statements denoted the hostility in the room when,
after Conway's broken-record speech of reiterating his positions
and Dr. Paul's weaknesses, Rand Paul announced that he would
not shake Jack Conway's hand. The doctor proceeded to walk
right past the Attorney General and off the stage.
This was a calculated move to garner support from the perceived-
enraged Christian voter. Instead, it likely backfired on Dr. Paul,
showcasing him as a whiny candidate who couldn't stand the heat,
lacking as much in class as he does in credentials.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Debating for the Love of Kentucky - Part I
The moderator asked his question clearly: "Tell us how you would help alleviate
Kentucky's dependency on coal, Mr. Lally." The candidate's response, however,
was something out of Mars. Lally, the Republican Congressional candidate, began
a spirited diatribe about the number of power poles on Bardstown Road. He was
getting fired up (characteristically, it seems) about this ' serious problem' when
there was a murmur from a group of his supporters:
"Coal! COAAAL."
The MC shushed the crowd, but everyone figured it out. And then it hit center
stage: the political newcomer sheepishly realized that the moderator hadn't
asked him about POLES--but rather COAL, Kentucky's one-time reigning industry.
Such a hearing malfunction could happen to anyone. I'll give Todd Lally a break
on that one, considering that he's an Air Force National Guard pilot. I'm sure he's
watching clips of that priceless moment today and thinking to himself, "Damned
loud engines."
It is difficult to determine who won last night's debate. Even though incumbent
liberal Democrat John Yarmuth sings my tune, I fairly admit that both candidates
displayed qualities worthy of any voter's attention. Yarmuth, prone to rambling,
also had a slight tendency to stutter. And while he played constant defense (being
placed there by both challenger Lally and the American public), the Congressman
was by no means a wallflower. When Lally implied that Congress was responsible
for the second-year lack of increase in Social Security payments, Yarmuth was
quick (and justified) to call the Republican's comments "ignorant and irresponsible",
as Congress has nothing to do with Social Security payment structure. Immediately,
Lally looked down. I got the impression of a father chastising a wreckless child. In
this case, the 'child's' brief showcase of guilt was surprising for a politician.
Todd Lally showed a Dick Cheney-esque zeal as a bulldog, chasing Yarmuth on
topics ranging from the national debt to health care reform and the Middle East.
His first couple of attempts to directly question the Democratic incumbent were
bold; Lally definitely tapped in to some of that Tea Party rage and attempted to
make John Yarmuth appear like Satan's right-hand man. Unfortunately, Lally
made frequent use of this tactic, which didn't exactly conform to rules of the
debate. Yarmuth did appear like a deer-in-the-headlights on a couple of occasions,
but as the debate continued, he used political saavy in waiting for the moderator
to approve Lally's question/attack before answering. This bought time for Yarmuth
to make the most sensical use of the last word, thus making Lally to look like a
dangerously-misinformed bully.
Lally spoke of being a native Louisvillian, but really spent much of the hour
trying to tie Congressman Yarmuth to "Nancy Pelosi's San Francisco-agenda", a
phrase that he used three times. His simple answer regarding the distracting issue
of abortion rights: "Only to protect the life of the mother." was well-received by
supporters, especially in comparison to Yarmuth's clear but wordy explanation
of his pro-choice stance and respect for the views on both sides. Lally's passionate
views on U.S.-Afghanistan involvement and his personal reflections of combat
definitely helped him with that segment of the Republican voter.
Still, an objective listener would have felt that John Yarmuth was more focused on
bettering Louisville. For all of Todd Lally's firm direct challenges ("Have you
been to Iraq, Congressman??") ("Some stimulus--do you feel stimulated!?"), his
commanding voice, passion and appeal to many voters, he offered few, if any
solutions to these complex, vast issues. I left the debate feeling more confident in
my opinion that Congressman Yarmuth should keep his job.
Before the concluding speeches, Lally and Yarmuth touched on the seemingly-
lifelong Louisville problem of new bridges. Although rambling, Yarmuth asserted
that he would not intervene with the design and decisions of the Bridges Project.
Lally, however, couldn't answer quietly. His points were concise, but he tapped
into that Tea Party rage a bit too much, saying that the bridges should be designed
'without the need for poles'.
Come on, Todd. You Tea Partiers may not want any type of tolls, but building bridges
without supports?
Even Queen Sarah wouldn't dare...
Kentucky's dependency on coal, Mr. Lally." The candidate's response, however,
was something out of Mars. Lally, the Republican Congressional candidate, began
a spirited diatribe about the number of power poles on Bardstown Road. He was
getting fired up (characteristically, it seems) about this ' serious problem' when
there was a murmur from a group of his supporters:
"Coal! COAAAL."
The MC shushed the crowd, but everyone figured it out. And then it hit center
stage: the political newcomer sheepishly realized that the moderator hadn't
asked him about POLES--but rather COAL, Kentucky's one-time reigning industry.
Such a hearing malfunction could happen to anyone. I'll give Todd Lally a break
on that one, considering that he's an Air Force National Guard pilot. I'm sure he's
watching clips of that priceless moment today and thinking to himself, "Damned
loud engines."
It is difficult to determine who won last night's debate. Even though incumbent
liberal Democrat John Yarmuth sings my tune, I fairly admit that both candidates
displayed qualities worthy of any voter's attention. Yarmuth, prone to rambling,
also had a slight tendency to stutter. And while he played constant defense (being
placed there by both challenger Lally and the American public), the Congressman
was by no means a wallflower. When Lally implied that Congress was responsible
for the second-year lack of increase in Social Security payments, Yarmuth was
quick (and justified) to call the Republican's comments "ignorant and irresponsible",
as Congress has nothing to do with Social Security payment structure. Immediately,
Lally looked down. I got the impression of a father chastising a wreckless child. In
this case, the 'child's' brief showcase of guilt was surprising for a politician.
Todd Lally showed a Dick Cheney-esque zeal as a bulldog, chasing Yarmuth on
topics ranging from the national debt to health care reform and the Middle East.
His first couple of attempts to directly question the Democratic incumbent were
bold; Lally definitely tapped in to some of that Tea Party rage and attempted to
make John Yarmuth appear like Satan's right-hand man. Unfortunately, Lally
made frequent use of this tactic, which didn't exactly conform to rules of the
debate. Yarmuth did appear like a deer-in-the-headlights on a couple of occasions,
but as the debate continued, he used political saavy in waiting for the moderator
to approve Lally's question/attack before answering. This bought time for Yarmuth
to make the most sensical use of the last word, thus making Lally to look like a
dangerously-misinformed bully.
Lally spoke of being a native Louisvillian, but really spent much of the hour
trying to tie Congressman Yarmuth to "Nancy Pelosi's San Francisco-agenda", a
phrase that he used three times. His simple answer regarding the distracting issue
of abortion rights: "Only to protect the life of the mother." was well-received by
supporters, especially in comparison to Yarmuth's clear but wordy explanation
of his pro-choice stance and respect for the views on both sides. Lally's passionate
views on U.S.-Afghanistan involvement and his personal reflections of combat
definitely helped him with that segment of the Republican voter.
Still, an objective listener would have felt that John Yarmuth was more focused on
bettering Louisville. For all of Todd Lally's firm direct challenges ("Have you
been to Iraq, Congressman??") ("Some stimulus--do you feel stimulated!?"), his
commanding voice, passion and appeal to many voters, he offered few, if any
solutions to these complex, vast issues. I left the debate feeling more confident in
my opinion that Congressman Yarmuth should keep his job.
Before the concluding speeches, Lally and Yarmuth touched on the seemingly-
lifelong Louisville problem of new bridges. Although rambling, Yarmuth asserted
that he would not intervene with the design and decisions of the Bridges Project.
Lally, however, couldn't answer quietly. His points were concise, but he tapped
into that Tea Party rage a bit too much, saying that the bridges should be designed
'without the need for poles'.
Come on, Todd. You Tea Partiers may not want any type of tolls, but building bridges
without supports?
Even Queen Sarah wouldn't dare...
Friday, October 1, 2010
Free Speech, Meg, Sarah and Dairy Queen.
October, already, huh? I would've liked to have started holiday shopping already,
but I also would've liked to have weighed 190 lbs. last month. Priorities, people.
Mine these days are new brakes and a better fall/winter (and spring and summer)
wardrobe. *sigh*
I found a rather interesting article today. What to say about a Christian Assistant-
Attorney General (AAG) who goes after a Gay college (University of Michigan)
student body president? For starters, I think that this high-ranking State official
is likely more interested in men's briefs than briefs of the legal variety. HELLO!?
It's one thing if the Big Man on Campus was part of a criminal investigation, but
no...AAG Shirvell is waging his own, personal campaign against the guy on his
own, personal blog. Seriously: "Chris Armstrong Watch". Realllly?! He's a college
kid, and you're a government official in a state with one of the highest crime rates
in the country. Shouldn't you be working on that?? While I think that the AAG is
probably guilty of harassment, I'm not so sure that he should be fired from his job.
Before you call me a traitor to equal rights and the "liberal agenda", hear me out:
Andrew Shirvell's comments are protected under the free speech clause--and he
hasn't used his office (that we know of) to go after the kid. I'd say that the Assistant
AG's real problem is that the closet can handle only so many law books. (You liked
that, didnt you? :))
Meg Whitman. Wow. She spends $119 million of her own money to become Governor
of California (why in the Hell would anyone want that job?!) and now she's probably
lost the race because she started preaching about only hiring legal workers. As tends
to happen when people get 'preachy' the skeleton came flying out in the form of an
illegal housekeeper, part of Ms. Whitman's "extended family" for nine years. I'm not
sure whether to feel sorry for Meg and her stupidity in spending that much money
on something so insane, or to point and say she had it coming. Even if opponent
Jerry Brown says something incredibly off (which is as common as a speed limit
sign), I think that California will wind up with a Democratic governor (there's the
silver lining.)
In another exciting article , Sarah Palin received a nice salute from the Republican
Party when a poll discovered that she and Mitt "I'm-Mormon-And-You-Can-Handle
-It" Romney are formidable candidates for President in 2012. To that news, I say
that when former-Governor and reigning Captain Scary, SarahPalin begins her
exploratory campaign, that I will also declare my own campaign in exploring the
laws of Canadian citizenship. Or hell, Argentina. I don't care...
Lastly, I like Dairy Queen and its chicken strip baskets.
You simply cannot go wrong.
but I also would've liked to have weighed 190 lbs. last month. Priorities, people.
Mine these days are new brakes and a better fall/winter (and spring and summer)
wardrobe. *sigh*
I found a rather interesting article today. What to say about a Christian Assistant-
Attorney General (AAG) who goes after a Gay college (University of Michigan)
student body president? For starters, I think that this high-ranking State official
is likely more interested in men's briefs than briefs of the legal variety. HELLO!?
It's one thing if the Big Man on Campus was part of a criminal investigation, but
no...AAG Shirvell is waging his own, personal campaign against the guy on his
own, personal blog. Seriously: "Chris Armstrong Watch". Realllly?! He's a college
kid, and you're a government official in a state with one of the highest crime rates
in the country. Shouldn't you be working on that?? While I think that the AAG is
probably guilty of harassment, I'm not so sure that he should be fired from his job.
Before you call me a traitor to equal rights and the "liberal agenda", hear me out:
Andrew Shirvell's comments are protected under the free speech clause--and he
hasn't used his office (that we know of) to go after the kid. I'd say that the Assistant
AG's real problem is that the closet can handle only so many law books. (You liked
that, didnt you? :))
Meg Whitman. Wow. She spends $119 million of her own money to become Governor
of California (why in the Hell would anyone want that job?!) and now she's probably
lost the race because she started preaching about only hiring legal workers. As tends
to happen when people get 'preachy' the skeleton came flying out in the form of an
illegal housekeeper, part of Ms. Whitman's "extended family" for nine years. I'm not
sure whether to feel sorry for Meg and her stupidity in spending that much money
on something so insane, or to point and say she had it coming. Even if opponent
Jerry Brown says something incredibly off (which is as common as a speed limit
sign), I think that California will wind up with a Democratic governor (there's the
silver lining.)
In another exciting article , Sarah Palin received a nice salute from the Republican
Party when a poll discovered that she and Mitt "I'm-Mormon-And-You-Can-Handle
-It" Romney are formidable candidates for President in 2012. To that news, I say
that when former-Governor and reigning Captain Scary, SarahPalin begins her
exploratory campaign, that I will also declare my own campaign in exploring the
laws of Canadian citizenship. Or hell, Argentina. I don't care...
Lastly, I like Dairy Queen and its chicken strip baskets.
You simply cannot go wrong.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Notown.
Less than two weeks ago, I picked up a page-turning
unauthorized biography of Diana Ross ("Call Her Miss
Ross") in a Georgetown, Kentucky antique shop for a
whopping $1.
The book, which dealt largely with "The Supremes",
touched on some of my favorite reading material when
it mentioned the story of Florence Ballard: riches to
rags. People say that they like "rags to riches" stories,
but I believe that they would rather read just the
opposite. I find these downfalls, collapses and sudden
(or gradual) drifts into obscurity just fascinating.
Therefore, it was no surprise when I turned my
attention from the obviously successfuly, obviously
bi-polar Diana to poor (literally) Flo Ballard and the
city that made and broke her. What I discovered was
nothing short of astonishing, sad and transfixing.
Who surives in this?
I've just returned from beautiful Portland and its
larger yet somehow-still-attractive sister of Seattle.
I've seen the beauty in San Diego sunsets and areas
of Atlanta that scream magnificent. But now Detroit
is on the brain.
Since we humans are drawn to train wrecks, I want
to someday go to Michigan's largest city and see
firsthand what happens when one million people leave
an area over a fifty-year period. I want to see what
made its new mayor (the one who didn't have phone
sex) order the destruction of over ten thousand
abandoned buildings within the city limits.
Take a good look at Detroit Urbex and understand
why historic preservation is about sooo much more
than who lived and died where. It's all about the
living--and their surroundings, too.
Ready for the road trip? Life insurance policy? Check.
unauthorized biography of Diana Ross ("Call Her Miss
Ross") in a Georgetown, Kentucky antique shop for a
whopping $1.
The book, which dealt largely with "The Supremes",
touched on some of my favorite reading material when
it mentioned the story of Florence Ballard: riches to
rags. People say that they like "rags to riches" stories,
but I believe that they would rather read just the
opposite. I find these downfalls, collapses and sudden
(or gradual) drifts into obscurity just fascinating.
Therefore, it was no surprise when I turned my
attention from the obviously successfuly, obviously
bi-polar Diana to poor (literally) Flo Ballard and the
city that made and broke her. What I discovered was
nothing short of astonishing, sad and transfixing.
Who surives in this?
I've just returned from beautiful Portland and its
larger yet somehow-still-attractive sister of Seattle.
I've seen the beauty in San Diego sunsets and areas
of Atlanta that scream magnificent. But now Detroit
is on the brain.
Since we humans are drawn to train wrecks, I want
to someday go to Michigan's largest city and see
firsthand what happens when one million people leave
an area over a fifty-year period. I want to see what
made its new mayor (the one who didn't have phone
sex) order the destruction of over ten thousand
abandoned buildings within the city limits.
Take a good look at Detroit Urbex and understand
why historic preservation is about sooo much more
than who lived and died where. It's all about the
living--and their surroundings, too.
Ready for the road trip? Life insurance policy? Check.
The Grim, Ghastly Grind of Kentucky and Her Politics.
In 1955, the United States Senate decided to pay homage to
only five distinguished members via prominently-displayed
paintings in the Senate chambers. Then-U.S. Senator John F.
Kennedy and his appointed committee were tasked with the
large responsibility of selecting the great statesmen.
JFK probably didn't have to search long before finding one of
the five in Kentucky's long-gone Henry Clay. It pains me to think
that most likely four out of five graduates of Lexington's Henry
Clay High School couldn't tell you anything that their school's
namesake did. Yet, I'll spare you the lesson and direct you to
Wikipedia or a book about life in the United States leading up to
the Civil War.
Don't all rush to Borders at once.
It has been quite a while (if at all) since Kentucky has put out a
Senator (or hell, any state-wide politician, for that matter) with
half of the saavy, courage and eloquence of Henry Clay. Let's take a
look at what my native state has offered lately.
Jim Bunning, elected to the Senate in 1999, reached the office due
largely to his popularity as a former professional baseball player.
Unfortunately, ol' Jim (and I do mean old; he's about 200) somehow
got traded from the Phillies to the Senate and ended up playing for
the Northern Kentucky Seniles. When he wasn't telling people that he
only watches FOX News for information, comparing an opponent to
"one of Saddam Hussein's sons" or predicting the death of Justice
Ginsburg within nine months (sorry, Senator; she's still with us),
Bunning wasn't doing much else. His bizarre behavior made him a
joke among his own electorate, which basically fired him by not
providing any re-election funding. Shady Pines, Jim.
Rand Paul is running as a Republican to replace Gramps. Unless
you've been living in a cave, you'll remember Paul's remarks about
1960's civil rights legislation being unneccessary, drugs not being a
problem in Eastern Kentucky (riiiight) and creating his own
ophthalmology board so that he could call himself a 'certified
ophthalmologist'. Basically, Rand Paul is a less-athletic, far-less
native younger version of the decrepit Jim Bunning.
And polls show that he is leading the Senate race by as much as 15%.
If you know the typical Kentucky voter like I do, this isn't all that
surprising. Kentucky voters are often 'triggered' by pro-gun politicians
and tend to 'abort' anyone remotely pro-choice. In doing so, they are
tossing away the capable Jack Conway, whom they see as Louisville
elitist, fancy-school educated and--shhhh--liberal. Yet, Jack isn't really
much of a catch. He might be articulate and attractive, but he has the
enthusiam of a 60 year-old man at his first prostate screnening and he
relates to rural Kentuckians in a Leona Helmsley kind of way. Still, I'll
vote for him because I'd rather take a snob than a yutz. *sigh*
Closer to home, we have learned that State Senate President David
Williams wants to become Kentucky's next governor. He looks (and acts)
like an evil swamp frog, and since he knew that he couldn't make it on
his own, he dragged the hapless Richie Farmer on stage as his candidate
for lieutenant governor.
Ah, yes. Agricultural Commissioner Farmer, who was elected to his
current office in 2003 after being out of the spotlight for nearly 20 years.
Some of you who find the Kentucky voter ridiculous and lacking in common
sense might think that he was elected out of nowhere based on his convenient
last name--but how dare you. We're much further along than that, thank you
very much.
We'll have you know that our Richie Farmer was Kentucky's 1988 "Mr. Basketball".
A modern-day Henry Clay, don't you think?
only five distinguished members via prominently-displayed
paintings in the Senate chambers. Then-U.S. Senator John F.
Kennedy and his appointed committee were tasked with the
large responsibility of selecting the great statesmen.
JFK probably didn't have to search long before finding one of
the five in Kentucky's long-gone Henry Clay. It pains me to think
that most likely four out of five graduates of Lexington's Henry
Clay High School couldn't tell you anything that their school's
namesake did. Yet, I'll spare you the lesson and direct you to
Wikipedia or a book about life in the United States leading up to
the Civil War.
Don't all rush to Borders at once.
It has been quite a while (if at all) since Kentucky has put out a
Senator (or hell, any state-wide politician, for that matter) with
half of the saavy, courage and eloquence of Henry Clay. Let's take a
look at what my native state has offered lately.
Jim Bunning, elected to the Senate in 1999, reached the office due
largely to his popularity as a former professional baseball player.
Unfortunately, ol' Jim (and I do mean old; he's about 200) somehow
got traded from the Phillies to the Senate and ended up playing for
the Northern Kentucky Seniles. When he wasn't telling people that he
only watches FOX News for information, comparing an opponent to
"one of Saddam Hussein's sons" or predicting the death of Justice
Ginsburg within nine months (sorry, Senator; she's still with us),
Bunning wasn't doing much else. His bizarre behavior made him a
joke among his own electorate, which basically fired him by not
providing any re-election funding. Shady Pines, Jim.
Rand Paul is running as a Republican to replace Gramps. Unless
you've been living in a cave, you'll remember Paul's remarks about
1960's civil rights legislation being unneccessary, drugs not being a
problem in Eastern Kentucky (riiiight) and creating his own
ophthalmology board so that he could call himself a 'certified
ophthalmologist'. Basically, Rand Paul is a less-athletic, far-less
native younger version of the decrepit Jim Bunning.
And polls show that he is leading the Senate race by as much as 15%.
If you know the typical Kentucky voter like I do, this isn't all that
surprising. Kentucky voters are often 'triggered' by pro-gun politicians
and tend to 'abort' anyone remotely pro-choice. In doing so, they are
tossing away the capable Jack Conway, whom they see as Louisville
elitist, fancy-school educated and--shhhh--liberal. Yet, Jack isn't really
much of a catch. He might be articulate and attractive, but he has the
enthusiam of a 60 year-old man at his first prostate screnening and he
relates to rural Kentuckians in a Leona Helmsley kind of way. Still, I'll
vote for him because I'd rather take a snob than a yutz. *sigh*
Closer to home, we have learned that State Senate President David
Williams wants to become Kentucky's next governor. He looks (and acts)
like an evil swamp frog, and since he knew that he couldn't make it on
his own, he dragged the hapless Richie Farmer on stage as his candidate
for lieutenant governor.
Ah, yes. Agricultural Commissioner Farmer, who was elected to his
current office in 2003 after being out of the spotlight for nearly 20 years.
Some of you who find the Kentucky voter ridiculous and lacking in common
sense might think that he was elected out of nowhere based on his convenient
last name--but how dare you. We're much further along than that, thank you
very much.
We'll have you know that our Richie Farmer was Kentucky's 1988 "Mr. Basketball".
A modern-day Henry Clay, don't you think?
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