All Count Floyd references aside (SCTV, anyone?) the
scariest aspect of this year's Hallowe'en season is, in my opinion, best seen in the nightly news. This election cycle
has got to be the most barbaric, most deliberately perverse freakshow since Houdini mysteriously escaped from being drugged,
shackled and buried to his neck in a high hanging vat of his own feces (Oh wait---that was an episode of Fear Factor--
mybad). I trust the Fates to send us a little piece of desperately-needed happy news by this time Tuesday night: that
the Axle of Elvis--er, I mean, the Axis of Evil--- meaning, of course 1. George, 2. W. and 3. Bush, are all sent packing back
to Crawford (whose local paper, interestingly, has endorsed his opponent---so maybe even Crawford doesn't
want him back! Bitchin'!)
Truly, I can only pray. Again, it is not as though I'm in love with Kerry--I'm
not---but I'll buy his brand of "Oh gosh, new information? I should rethink my position!" over W's stagnant, stubborn, pigheaded
version of "determination" any day. And Lord knows we ought not trust another four to his cabal. Cheney, threatening vast
waves of terrorist attacks on American soil should Kerry win, sounds suspiciously like the Mummy in Aqua
Teen Hunger Force, petulantly screaming "Cuuuuurrse!" when someone does something he doesn't like (C'mon, someone
tell me they know what I'm talking about!).
But hey, maybe I'm, as you Americans say,
pissing in the wind. Will it really matter who's the next President?
In the long run, will it ever really affect you, me, or our everyday lives? Will it indeed matter whether Bush has another
predatory go at our democracy, or whether Kerry will wuss out bigtime as the next Commander-In-Chief? Will it really
matter that neither man is free to really lead as he chooses, and that both men are tethered to the whims and machinations
of corporate interests, the likes to which we citizens may never be officially privy?
You bet your ass it will.
What Bush thinks of me, my little bloggywog, and YOU, dear reader:
There. Another rant down. Now on to the REAL banalities, starring the aforementioned
"real life" of your host.
Things seem to be simmering down substantially
in recent weeks since my lovely spawn came to reside with the Debstress and myself some two months ago, owing to her mother
suffering from spasms of ----well, perhaps "lunacy" is a tad strong of a word, but at least it puts my meaning well
within the ballpark. No matter---as mentioned earlier, the result is one I couldn't have wished more for. And I think (though
I can't be sure) that it's been good for her too.
The darlin darter in question: a self portrait.
HEY. If there's anyone in town
with $25 burning a hole in his or her pocket or purse, who would like to benefit a resurging music and arts program at Blair
High School in Pasadena (my alma mater), and who would like to attend an evening of musical theater-type stuff sung by
(if I do say so myself) a very talented conglomeration of amateurs and professionals, then may I suggest a lovely evening
of song at the upcoming Sondheim and Friends musical benefit on Saturday, November 20 at the new performance
space at Blair High. If you're feeling particularly generous, and would like to experience fine Thai cuisine by renowned chef
Tommy Tang, as well as early perusal at the silent auction taking place that night, then the cost is a very-reasonable-for-what-you-get
$50 per.
(And, yes, for both of you out there who are genuinely interested,
your humble narrator will indeed be treading the boards and singing his guts out, which should definitely put you in the mood
for marvelous Thai food.)
For more information, feel free to let me know and I'll get back to you
right away. It's going to be a great night for a great cause.
