Nan Patience ~ Back At The Ranch

Click on this image for a larger view.

I had a ride in the car this morning, and as you know, I sometimes am prone to notice and document the tragic, violent, and sudden deaths of our otherwise forgotten friends. If you’re like me and have a strange fascination, too, then you will have clicked on the image for a more detailed view of this little lifeless creature whose fur was ever so gently blowing in the cold November air.

I believe it’s a skunk. What do you think? I do not recall detecting at the time any skunky aroma. Could it be that a threatening animal might cause a skunk to spray its devastatingly potent spray, deliberately and to save its life, but a vehicle suffered no malodorous effects whatsoever?

I like the smell of skunk on the highway. I really do. I don’t like it close up. On our last visit to family in New Hampshire, which was in the summer and the windows were open because it was a scorcher, a skunk let one go right outside the window. It must be a little bit what it’s like to have mace sprayed in your face.

Here are some interesting facts I picked up for you from Wikipedia about skunks:

Physical description

Skunk species vary in size from about 15.6 to 37 inches (40 to 70 cm) and in weight from about 1.1 pounds (0.5 kg) (the spotted skunks) to 18 pounds (8.2 kg) (the hog-nosed skunks). They have a moderately elongated body with reasonably short, well-muscled legs, and long front claws for digging.

Although the most common fur color is black and white, some skunks are brown or gray, and a few are cream-colored. All skunks are striped, even from birth. They may have a single thick stripe across back and tail, two thinner stripes, or a series of white spots and broken stripes (in the case of the spotted skunk). Some also have stripes on their legs.

Diet

Skunks are omnivorous, eating both plant and animal material and changing their diet as the seasons change. They eat insects and larvae, earthworms, small rodents, lizards, salamanders, frogs, snakes, birds, moles, and eggs. They also commonly eat berries, roots, leaves, grasses, fungi, and nuts.

In settled areas, skunks also seek human garbage. Less often, skunks may be found acting as scavengers, eating bird and rodent carcasses left by cats or other animals. Pet owners, particularly those of cats, may experience a skunk finding its way into a garage or basement where pet food is kept. Skunks commonly dig holes in lawns in search of grubs and worms.

Skunks are one of the primary predators of the honeybee, relying on their thick fur to protect them from stings. The skunk scratches at the front of the beehive and eats the guard bees that come out to investigate. Mother skunks are known to teach this to their young.

Behavior

Skunks are crepuscular, and are solitary animals when not breeding, though in the colder parts of their range they may gather in communal dens for warmth. During the day they shelter in burrows that they dig with their powerful front claws, or in other man-made or natural hollows as the opportunity arises. Both sexes occupy overlapping home ranges through the greater part of the year; typically 2 to 4 km² for females, up to 20 km² for males.

Skunks do not hibernate in the winter. However, they do remain generally inactive and feed rarely. They often overwinter in a huddle of one male and multiple (as many as twelve) females. The same winter den is often repeatedly used.

Although they have excellent senses of smell and hearing — vital attributes in a crepuscular omnivore — they have poor vision. They cannot see objects more than about 3 metres away with any clarity, which makes them vulnerable to road traffic. Roughly half of all skunk deaths are caused by humans, as roadkill, or as a result of shooting and poisoning. They are short-lived animals: fewer than 10% survive for longer than three years.

Reproduction
Skunks typically mate in early spring and are a polygynous species, meaning that males usually mate with more than one female. Before giving birth (usually in May), the female will excavate a den to house her litter of four to seven kits. They are placental, with a gestation period of about 66 days.

When born, skunk kits are blind, deaf, and covered in a soft layer of fur. About three weeks after birth, their eyes open. The kits are weaned about two months after birth, but generally stay with their mother until they are ready to mate, at about one year of age.

The mother is very protective of her kits, and will often spray at any sign of danger. The male plays no part in raising the young and may even kill them.

Anal scent glands

The notorious feature of skunks is their anal scent glands, which they can use as a defensive weapon. They are similar to, though much more developed than, the glands found in species of the Mustelidae family. Skunks have two glands, one on either side of the anus, that produce a mixture of sulfur-containing chemicals (methyl and butyl thiols (mercaptans)) that has a highly offensive smell that can be described as a combination of the odors of rotten eggs, garlic and burnt rubber. The odor of the fluid is strong enough to ward off bears and other potential attackers, and can be difficult to remove from clothing. Muscles located next to the scent glands allow them to spray with high accuracy as far as 2 to 5 metres (7 to 15 ft). The smell aside, the spray can cause irritation and even temporary blindness, and is sufficiently powerful to be detected by even an insensitive human nose anywhere up to a mile downwind. Their chemical defense, though unusual, is effective, as illustrated by this extract from Charles Darwin’s Voyage of the Beagle:

Skunks are reluctant to use their smelly weapon, as they carry just enough of the chemical for five or six uses—about 15 cc—and require some ten days to produce another supply. Their bold black and white coloring however serves to make the skunk’s appearance memorable. Where practical, it is to a skunk’s advantage to simply warn a threatening creature off without expending scent: the black and white warning color aside, threatened skunks will go through an elaborate routine of hisses, foot stamping, and tail-high threat postures before resorting to the spray. Interestingly, skunks will not spray other skunks (with the exception of males in the mating season); though they fight over den space in autumn, they do so with tooth and claw.

The singular musk-spraying ability of the skunk has not escaped the attention of biologists: the names of the family and the most common genus (Mephitidae, Mephitis) mean “stench”, and Spilogale putorius means “stinking spotted weasel”. The word skunk is a corruption of an Abenaki name for them, segongw or segonku, which means “one who squirts” in the Algonquian dialect.

Most predatory animals of the Americas, such as wolves, foxes and badgers, seldom attack skunks—presumably out of fear of being sprayed. The exception is the great horned owl, the animal’s only serious predator, which, like most birds, has a poor-to-nonexistent sense of smell.

Skunk spray is composed mainly of low molecular weight thiol compounds,[4] namely (E)-2-butene-1-thiol, 3-methyl-1-butanethiol, and 2-quinolinemethanethiol, as well as acetate thioesters of each of these.[5][6] These compounds are detectable at concentrations of about 2 parts per million.

Domestication

Domesticated skunks can legally be kept as pets in the UK. However, the Animal Welfare Act 2006 has made it illegal to remove their scent glands (it is considered to be a cosmetic operation), thus making them impractical as pets. Owners have been known to dump skunks in the wild when they discover that vets will no longer perform the operation to remove their scent glands.[9]

The keeping of skunks as pets is legal only in certain U.S. states. Mephitis mephitis, the striped skunk species, is the most social skunk and the one most commonly domesticated. When the skunk is kept as a pet, the scent gland is removed. Typical life spans for domesticated skunks are considerably longer than for wild skunks, often reaching 10 years, though it is not unusual for a well-cared for skunk to live well past 20 years.

One problem with U.S. skunks kept as pets is the lack of genetic diversity. The few breeders of skunks use the same genetic stock (as none are allowed to be taken from the wild) that was available many decades ago, when skunks were bred for the fur trade rather than the pet trade. Undescended testicles, epileptic seizures, and other problems are often found with the domestic stock. European settlers in America reported that certain Native Americans kept skunks as pets. The Pilgrims are also said to have kept skunks as pets.[10]

The Patience family lives on the North Fork of Long Island, which is a remarkably rural area considering New York’s and Long Island’s reputation as being densely populated, suburban, and post-Industrial.

We’re all about sustainability and preservation out here. Recently, through the dedication and heartfelt feeling of our community to honoring and preserving our past, a community trust took ownership of a local church building built it 1731. The trust, put together by a coalition of Jamesporters and led by a leading local historian who has been spending a great deal of his retirement years helping to identify and preserve old structures, saved the structure from the commercial market, where preposterous things were proposed for it.

It’s rather a strange thing to be surrounded by so much preserved farmland, historical structures, seas and skies on the one hand, and the looming idea of the future on the other.

While it is beautiful out here, our younger generations have been fleeing Long Island in droves for many years. The high cost of living, high taxes, and a lack of opportunity have caused many to seek more fertile grounds in the southeast, upstate, and elsewhere. Older generations are a little sorry to see the younger ones leave, and the younger ones are a little sorry to have to go. Of course, yes, the generations do get on each other’s nerves, of course. Everyone gets on everyone’s nerves. There is a tremendous generation gap in modern times, and a lot of families have been separated in many ways. Family values don’t seem to be what they once were.

It seems natural, all the fleeing of places and people. This is a nation built on immigrant ideals. We are people who are willing to risk everything and step into the unknown and inhospitable places on this Earth in order to survive and thrive and to give ourselves and our children every advantage we can. We look for lower costs of living, stronger communities, more attractive lifestyles, better opportunities, and to get out of the ruts and discontents in one fell swoop. Our immigrant roots are readily apparent everywhere we look, no matter where we go, and they’re in our blood. There’s always a regret, though, to leaving a place, because there’s nothing like home and a sense of belonging somewhere.

There’s a trend in recent years out here on the North Fork and elsewhere of people giving consideration to the idea of sustainable living, which is tied closely with the modern environmental movement, which is associated with a certain elite group within the population. It’s a lovely idea, but when I think about the future, the global marketplace, the risks, and I see how competitive it is for young people to survive and thrive, I feel like the future may not be sustainable. There’s a sense that we need to push children and teenagers to do extremely well in school, have extracurriculars and hobbies, perhaps play an instrument and a sport, to give community service, and to identify the things in life that bring joy and that they’re good at, and to perhaps have a job, not to mention friends and family, not to mention getting the food and sleep they need—-well, it’s a bit much to contemplate.

The kids certainly have more energy than I do, which is good, because I get tired just thinking about what’s expected of them. But my kids sometimes just reach a point of no return, when getting out of bed seems too hard, when they’re tired of everyone telling them what to do, when they don’t have enough time to do what they have to do let alone what they want to do, when they don’t want to join another thing because they just want to be. Don’t get me wrong, they’re generally very positive people, hardworking, good grades, and all those good things. But I have observed the stresses for two or three years now, and Little Bird’s only in the sixth grade.

There is little time for contemplation. There is no time to relax. There is no time to perform household chores. There is no time to dawdle or waste. There is a fear that is being instilled in each and every child, a sort of whip cracking behind them, driving them into the future. My kids hardly even know what to do with themselves when they have “down” time, and it concerns me. And I don’t even drive my kids the way that some parents do.

How is it possible to live in a rural area and not fall behind, be part of the future? There is a movement to go back to the land—-the agrarian movement. There is a vitality in our rural and immigrant roots, but would it be enough to sustain our families? Which families? Since the question is still up in the air along with everything else, for now we have to regard our rural landscape as a kind of agritourism museum. There is value in that, especially for weary travelers, tastemakers, and the media. But it doesn’t seem quite honest, and there’s little to sink your teeth into for younger generations.

We taxpayers pay not only for educating our children for the future but for sustaining agriculture and preserving the past. We’ve got all of our bets hedged!

Our structures, our generations, our families, our land and sea and air, and our towns, all feel like good, worthy causes, but long shots. Unless we can truly find a foundation in them for the future, something that sustains us and preserves us.

* * *

Well, would you look at the dissertation I wrote today! So dry, so long, so what. LOL!

The morning clouds have turned to afternoon rain, and there’s every reason in the world to feel a bit glum. I don’t feel I have the time to blog today, there are so many other compelling things that I should be doing. Yet here I am. So I’ll make it quick.

In my continuing notes from the home front, we’re fortunate to be still getting by in spite of the need to have a new roof put on the house, replace our furnace, and get some repairs done on both vehicles. And that’s not all. Adulthood and ownership, we’ve learned over the years, come with big responsibilities of upkeep, taxes, and bills, bills, bills! Big Daddy is busier than ever at work, so thank Goodness for that. I’m looking for part-time work to help out with rising costs, but there seem to be fewer opportunities all the time in the usual places. I did find an unusually fantastic weekend job opportunity, and it’s looking very good. I’ll let you know if I get it. I’ve recently had a good run of freelance communications projects, too—-print ad updates, web site updates, event design concepts, book manuscript development. And of course, my pet project, the NorthForkParents website is an ongoing project. So we’re hustling over here, people.

Yes, I’m worried about the economy. My impression is that we are all experiencing a big squeeze right now and are feeling quite worried about the future. Are you? I’m a worrier, so those messages about the need to grab, the need to horde, and the need to freak out really get my attention. But I also know that life is not just something to be feared or suffered through. It takes great leadership to rise above all of the negative messages and live a life worth living.

One thing teachers consistently say about my kids is how positive, nice, and hard working they are. In the big scheme of things, that means a lot to me. If we can get them all the way to adulthood with that intact, then they will almost certainly have a bright future, whatever it brings.

History has already brought some hard things to get through, and yet we managed. My grandmother, who died last month at the age of 97 and whose funeral we attended on Big Daddy’s birthday, was born into the home of Russian immigrants and lived through the War To End All Wars, the Great Depression, World War II, the death of her husband while her children were still children, a loss of health and independence as she aged, McCarthyism, Nixon, loud rock music, and many, many other hard things, and she was still always one to laugh and prance about.

The right attitude can make you invincible.

Big Daddy’s sister, Jennifer, recently announced her engagement to Scott. The Patience family will soon gain a brother and an uncle, and Scott will gain a brother, a sister, a niece, and a nephew. The kids think he’s awesome, and he and my sister-in-law together will make a pair to beat a full house.

Scott reads this blog, so I already like him. My sister-in-law reads this blog, too, but she doesn’t agree with hardly one thing I say. She’s one hot ticket, and her point of view almost makes an impression on me. Scott says that she was really wound up about the elections, and on the wrong side, too. Hopefully, he can help her see the light on some issues.

When I met Jennifer, she was about Little Bird’s age. I wasn’t much older, but I was smitten with Big Daddy and meeting his family for the first time and announcing our engagement. I was welcomed, everyone came to the wedding, and we have always been included. Then our children were welcomed and included. It’s almost 20 years since I joined the family, and now Big Daddy and I are welcoming someone new to the family.

Family is a special thing with histories, traditions, foods, opinions, personalities, feelings, advantages to share, disadvantages to share, grudges, resentments, pride, shame, fears, courage, successes, failures, quirks, sickness, health, secrets, betrayals, sadness, happiness, anger, abundance, need, and of course love. Family is that feeling you get right in your heart that goes all the way up your throat and into your eyes in a big pang that’s both pleasure and pain.

Scott, you complete Jennifer, and you strengthen our family with your gentle kindness, intelligence, and love. Welcome! We’re looking forward to all the years ahead and getting to know you better.

And please don’t send me another one of these. I love disco, but what happened to my beautiful locks?

Here’s one for you, Scotty, boy!

Red meat lovers must now subsist on a steady diet of love, peace and understanding? For how long?

Can we please stop pretending that the larger aspect of the homo sapien isn’t the desire to scrap, compete, and kill? This is particularly true of our male gender. It is, and the Democrats have got to ease up on the Love Fest. Obama’s saying last night that For those who didn’t vote for me, I will be your president, too. Whoa, ease up, dude. Shut up.

I can tell you from how Big Daddy has been acting since yesterday that all of this is annoying the shit out of him. He fell asleep early last night. Clearly, he was somewhat disinterested in the final moments of the election. He knew what was going to happen, and if he’s supposed to be happy about it, he’s not. I kept updating him when the big states turned blue. I think I was interrupting his enjoyment of The World’s Messiest Jobs on cable somewhere. But I kept his hopes up, too, telling him McCain could still win. Was I torturing him? Ya know, I mighta been!

I think he was trying to talk sweet to me the other night, or maybe he was trying to make up, I forget. He said he was going to vote for Obama. Don’t you believe him! I didn’t. He actually might have, and I still wouldn’t believe it.

After a late night, for me anyway, but feeling real chipper this morning, I asked him if he was going to stay grumpy for four years.

I almost said that this would be the ideal time for him to quit smoking once and for all. Then he would be double grumpy. Then he’d be well on his way to withdrawing from human interaction of all unnecessary kinds. That’s exactly where I want him, all to myself, out in the woods, two old nut cases, one always out fishing and the other always out to lunch.

I used to think, I think, that it was sexy when he smoked, when I met him. Then somewhere along the way, I began to think he’s going to die of this and leave me lonely. I really get after him sometimes, and I always feel selfish doing so. That doesn’t stop me.

Back to politics. We’re going to have to have some red meat, people. Don’t try handing these guys of ours a bunch of bullshit. “Dreamers” is what some dems are describing themselves as today. How rude. We Dems are big time Schemers, too.

For example, just to raise the hair on the backs of our meat-loving crowd, the first signal we want to give the first moment we have the chance is that we intend to bring back Prohibition. That should keep them busy and out of the way, so we can figure out how to get American corporations to take care of American employees once again.

Obama should consider me as someone who could bring these kinds of non-issues to the fore of American consciousness. An Instigations Coordinator? I think I could keep a guy like Big Daddy riled up for four years. I might actually enjoy it.

Dancing in the Street, Mick Jagger & David Bowie

Everything bad bounces off of you and sticks to me. And it just adds to my patina.

What can you do with someone who embraces their inner jerk?

I’ve been thinking that I talk some trash in this blog, and it reflects very poorly on me. Conspiracy theories, criticisms, downright bitchiness, subversiveness—-especially lately with the elections and this education/school district discontentedness and everything. Maybe we’ve all become more immature, name-calling, irresponsible, impolite, and carried away with the daily diet of instigation by the media, including the internet. All of these horrific visions being lobbed around by politicians. All the wrong decisions being handed down?

I apologize. Usually I try to be a peaceful, friendly, forgiving, helpful person. I usually prefer to just enjoy the scenery than to flap my gums. I usually enjoy fussing over my family’s daily routines, doing light gardening, reading novels, and worrying about what I’m going to wear someplace. Instead I’ve been distracted, impatient and edgy a lot.

And it hasn’t been confined to this blog. I have carried all of this into the everyday. I have been forthright, not pretending to think what I don’t, have let my feelings be known, and have spoken directly with certain individuals. You can’t say I haven’t. If there was a side to take, I took my place.

Writing can be a tricky thing. I can’t speak as well as I write, so that’s what I do. Actually I speak just fine when I’m feeling comfortable, but when I’m under pressure my words get all Sarah Palinned. Writing is how I organize my thoughts, and very often it’s where I add a nice shiny polish. (But it’s not as shiny and slick as I think it is, either.) This polish can be very naughty and manipulative.

It’s not a difficult thing to settle on a point of view and put words together. It really all comes down to things in the core of a person’s being, a basic order into which everything else falls and thoughts and ideas resonate. You’ve got your core, I’ve got mine. The rest is just presentation.

I know who I am, that’s the main thing. Over the years, I’ve fought with myself a lot, but I think that’s settling down and I’m not bucking it so much. I’ll leave the bucking to others. There’s always someone who’s happy to buck me.

a propos: The Jerk, Steve Martin

The newest debate in our school district surrounds lunch and recess time, which children returned to school to find shortened this year to 20 minutes each.

Many parents, especially of the elementary school set, claim that’s not enough time. They say children need to have time to chew their food and get some fresh air and have some play time.

The superintendent, board of education, and loyal administrators claim it’s just enough time, and they want to fit in more schoolwork to bring up student “achievement” (read: test scores).

My own kids haven’t complained much, but sometimes I do get half eaten lunches home, and when I ask why it wasn’t eaten, I’m told they were late getting to lunch and didn’t have enough time to eat. Students who are late to lunch may take more time to eat, but it comes out of their recess. My kids will rarely be so hungry as to miss recess.

The children who buy their lunch at school, many of who are entitled to free and reduced lunch, have even less time to eat because they have to wait on line. To me, there may be something discriminatory about that. For some of these children, it’s the only decent meal they get each day. With childhood obesity levels at epidemic proportions, these kids need to get exercise, too.

But I’m of two minds about this. Part of me thinks that kids need more time to eat and unwind a little. They’re human beings, not machines. Another part of me agrees they need more time doing schoolwork.

But hold up a minute. It may be possible to find more time for schoolwork without taking it out of the lunch and recess time. What about June? June always feels like we’ve got one foot into summer vacation already. Of course all of the standardized tests have been taken, but maybe we can make better use of the time. So much of schoolwork these days is studying and practicing for these standardized tests. (The good thing about the tests is that they make students learn important skills. Some bad things about them are that they’re very narrow, very stressful, and very boring. They make kids hate school.) Maybe we should start the school year two weeks earlier, in keeping with the timing of standardized tests.

Also, so much of the school year is taken up with nonsense—-it’s fun nonsense, but nonsense all the same. We can reduce it. And we’ve had very few weeks so far this year without a day off for religious holidays and holidays that no longer make sense, such as Columbus Day. We start the year off with a day off for Superintendent’s Conference Day, for crying out loud. We have something like two weeks off this year for Christmas and the New Year, and all the big to-dos leading up to that great event take away considerably from class time and attention. Summer vacation doesn’t need to be so long, we could easily reduce that by two weeks, and many working parents would thank you for it. It’s almost impossible to have two parents working with the amount of time they have to cover for vacations, etc.

Let’s rethink all the fundraising, too, since it does take up a lot of time and energy. In their efforts to raise a little extra cash, the PTOs end up inserting fundraisers into the school day and sending kids off with packet after packet of fundraisers to sell after school so they can earn valuable prizes. Ack! Why? So little Joey and Janey can go on the field trip, too? We can get rid of a lot of these field trips. I’ve been on some really unnecessary field trips—-most of them are actually.

So, we can find time throughout the year and still allow our children enough time to eat and breathe.

Instead of continually adding stress to students and throwing dollars at the problems, maybe we should be addressing the real need to ensure better outcomes for students: better teachers? Does Riverhead need better teachers? No one would want to be the one to say so if we did. Actually I’ve been fairly happy with the teachers that my kids have had at the elementary level. Except for a couple, and it really wasn’t so much their fault as the way things are these days.

The main fault I find with our education system in general and our district in particular, if you can call it a fault, is that there seems to be a greater emphasis on bringing weaker students up than helping stronger students excel. Some of the weaker students have serious behavioral and learning issues. These students take up a lot of teachers’ energy, in my experience. Meanwhile, too often, the higher performing students are left to their own devices, not needing much help to keep up. So what you end up with is a very small group of elite students, then a big serving of mediocrity, and another big serving of students who don’t give a rat’s ass and never did. I could be wrong about that, I haven’t examined the data. It’s just my impression. There seem to be some terrific opportunities for students in the higher grades, but the outcomes in terms of college have not been particularly strong. I think that’s fine when it comes to the district getting dollars for special education and no child left behind and BOCES and so on, but it’s not so good for the kids with potential to do great things and meet the challenges of our changing world. Here’s a video a friend sent me about some of the challenges our children are facing.

So what would I do about lunch and recess? It’s simple. I would first address all of the other ways in which valuable class time is wasted. I’ll bet there’s enough time in the month of June alone to restore lunch and recess to its former level. Let’s stop spending so much time and energy on all of the non-essentials. Maybe we need to take a look at the school calendar with an eye toward lengthening it or moving it in line with the big tests.

Hopefully our education system and our district in particular will also address ways to encourage excellence in teaching, ways to motivate families to stress academic achievement as a priority, and ways for all parties to work together better to help ensure success.

I guess it feels like the students have lost something important here while the administration hasn’t really considered other meaningful options. I think that’s what really bothers some of us, is that our children are being punished for a situation that isn’t their fault.

That seems to be a pattern lately. The administration can compel our children to conform to a uniforms policy, while many of our teachers don’t dress professionally themselves. The administration allows its high school principal to be arrested for DWI and still hold a leadership position, but students are supposed to take responsibility for their behavior. And now students don’t have enough time to eat and breathe, while the administration counts test scores and dollars.

I don’t like what’s going on.

These emails from the campaign begging for donations by midnight tonight, that warn of the desperate times ahead if the other man wins—-they’re starting to feel like blackmail of some kind. “If I don’t get a $25 donation from you by tonight, the whole campaign could be at stake, and it’ll be on your head.” Of course, that’s not a direct quote, but that’s a little like how it’s starting to feel.

Yes, a friend forwarded me an invitation, through her apeal, to be a friend of the campaign. The first big hint you get is that they could sure use a few dollars, ya know, for the cause.

So I give a little.

Then I’m on the mailing list, and another appeal comes in.

I decide to delete it, thinking: I just GAVE money.

So then I get another email. And another. And another. And another. The appeals give us an inside glimpse of the fight to win this election. A headline, and a request for money. An opinion, and an appeal for money. A promise, and an appeal for money. Sooner or later, an event or a position will really hit a chord, and you’ll give a bit more money. Maybe you’ll even browse in that handy online store full of Election gear. For $25.99, you can get this packet with everything you need to be a grass roots player in this game. Stickers. Banners. Pins.

F*cken BRILLIANT marketing.

And still, he’s only winning by half. Even with a treasure chest of historic proportions, gathered from all the little schmucks like us, a bunch of sorry assed liberals, welfare people, and disloyal Republicans looking for protection.

Man, I feel like I need a soapy bath to wash off all this disgusting and continuous obsession with money and power. Let’s work this out once and for all so we can get on with it. We need a balanced, simple formula that makes us all feel like we belong.

I feel the constraints and freedoms of money all the time, in many of the executive decisions I make throughout the day. It’s exhausting, actually. As much as I spend conservatively, it’s still a continual making of decisions, sailing through the breezes.

Anyway, I’ve heard an aweful lot lately about John McCain, the man they used to know and love. Before the right wing got its mitts all over him, I guess. There are very few extreme right-wingers out here in America of the higher breed. Yes we do have a few neo-Nazis and the other low-life scumbags, but only a very few of the smart and sophisticated kind. Those of the manipulative, powerful kind. I wouldn’t say white collar or executive. We need a new color for this group. How about the yellow collars because they’re little weaselly chickens.

Maybe McCain’s not so bad. Maybe he is hero through-and-through and has been tested and everyone knows who he is already. But if he can’t control his own campaign, then how is he supposed to be the leader of the free world? I don’t want to see the Palins in Washington, D.C. every damn day, either. What’s with all this anti-American, terrorist nonsense? What’s with the renewed reproductive rights offensive? What’s with this ridiculously erratic campaign and irresponsible decision-making?And he is older and a cancer survivor, so I’m sorry to say it, but Palin could become President.

So the other alternative is Obama. And if he’s playing these kinds of “fundraising” grass roots tricks, then I have to wonder about what he’s all about.

Winning the White House, why would anyone want to get there so bad? Because you really care? Because there are opportunities? Because it’s a massive ego boost? Is it possible to have an ordinary, decent, smart person in this office? Yes and no.

Too bad Hillary didn’t seem to have a better grasp of campaigning. She almost had it, and at this point, I trust her the most of any of these people. I think her heart really is in the right place. As a woman, she can afford to spend her life on causes she believes in, and that’s what she’s done. Now she’s going to be a powerful senator, and I only wish she were going to have more power in an Obama Administration. If she plans to run for president in 2012, then she better get her game on.

Ugh, it’s too late for this second-guessing. We should know what to do.

Those of you who read along have learned to expect this kind of cynical and preposterous post from me, and to you newcomers, welcome!

Hank Williams, My Bucket’s Got A Hole In It.

As if the McCain campaign didn’t have enough trouble with the economy issue, the news today is that he has taken his trash-talking leading lady shopping at Saks and Neimans so she can dress up as a woman with class—-to the tune of $150,000. She probably should have insisted on going to Target, doggonit!

Roy Orbison, Pretty Woman.

Ouch, boy can I be a b*tch! Better watch your back.

The trouble with the high road is there’s no satisfaction—-unless of course you prevail. Success is the best revenge.

Sons-o-bitches keep calling names, being nasty, contorting stuff, and you have to keep on keeping on. It’s a little demoralizing. But taking the high road means you have to show some restraint and fall back on the strength of your character and determination. You have to work harder to get through to people on the merits.

Merits are boring.

Who cares about merits when most people in America are hopped up on drugs, alcohol, shopping, sweets, carbs, red meat, sports, emotions, sex, gambling, our precious “beliefs,” ignorance, luxury, ego trips, delusions, power, and lots of other things that help us get through the day and distract us from the simple, hard realities of life, work, and death.

Oops, hope that wasn’t anti-American.

I happened to catch a few minutes today of The View, and the blond girl was wearing a tee shirt that said AmeriCain and repeating all the crap the Republican Party is circulating. Whoopie Goldberg went ballistic, and it was a disservice to her position.

Meanwhile, the media stands to gain from all this nonsense because the campaigns are spending record amounts of money on advertising. They love to stir the pot and get our goats. The media is making me sick, actually.

Let’s consider: what if you take the low road and you lose, too? Then that really does make you a double loser, doesn’t it.

The Rolling Stones, Satisfaction.

Otis Redding, Satisfaction.

Devo, Satisfaction.

Polly Jean and Bjork, Satisfaction.