Danny and the Hand Head Jive

If it weren’t so pitiful, it would be hilarious, but day after day, people are given ample ammo to rag Dan Rather three different ways...hard, fast, and continuously...and it’s his own doing, that sets himself up.

You see, Dan Rather talks to Ed Murrow’s ghost. "Ed Murrow's ghost is here. I've seen him and talked to him on the third floor of this building many times late at night. And I can tell you that he's watching over us." You can find that at The Hollywood Reporter.

You can’t make stuff up any better than this. Let’s imagine a conversation with Dan and the late Mr. Ed.

Rather: “Mr. Murrow. Thank you for looking in on me tonight. You know I need a friend at the moment. I’m probably the most misunderstood person on the entire planet. I’m probably as misunderstood as a condom machine in a maternity ward. I can’t seem to...”

Ghost of Mr. Murrow: “Shut up, Dan. You’re a twit.”

Rather: “But sir, I was only trying to help our country. I meant no...”

Ghost of Mr. Murrow: “Please, Gunga Dan, save it. You’ve done enough, already.”

Rather: “But Mr. Murrow. You’re the only one who really understands me. Not even...”

Ghost of Mr. Murrow: “Dan, listen. I’m dead and you’re talking to me. And now you say I’m the only one who understands you? And to beat all, you tell a reporter that you talk to me and see me on the third floor. Dan, I think you’ve been in the Texas sauce a little too much.”

Rather: “But you see, it’s that...”

Ghost of Mr. Murrow: “Dan, listen. These cigarettes helped drive the nails in my coffin. But maybe you should give up the booze and start smoking....reefer! It sure as hell wouldn’t hurt you. Not now, anyway.”

Rather: “Mr. Murrow, you know I’ve tried to be a good reporter. Fair and balanced and unfearing, and filled with...”

Ghost of Mr. Murrow: “Yea, filled with...courage! Is that what they call it now. Dan, you’re as funny as a puppy with two peters. Stop it...my sides are hurting.”

Rather: “Sorry about that Chief. It won’t...”

Ghost of Mr. Murrow: “Rather, remember the night back in ‘86, when you were roughed up by a few people? (Murrow now changes his voice to be a little sinister) What’s the frequency, Kenneth?” (laughing hysterically, and coughing mightily)

Rather: “Say that again, Chief.”

Ghost of Mr. Murrow: (still cracking up) “What’s the frequency, Kenneth?”

Rather: “My God, it was you. I can’t...”

Ghost of Mr. Murrow: “Yea it was me, Danny Boy. And the three goons weren’t from a rival network. They were all journalists, who worked with you. They hated you Dan...and they hate you now.”

Rather: “Why do they hate me, chief?”

Ghost of Mr. Murrow: “Go back a little while and look at that dumbassed statement you made about Camelot and a mystical kingdom, and King Arthur and the Roundtable. That smells worse than a fresh cow pattie after a Texas thunder shower.”

Rather: “But...but you know what I meant by that. I’m sure you...”

Ghost of Mr. Murrow: “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about there, son. And I don’t think you have a clue either. Your problem is you don’t know when to be quiet. People have had it with you. You have no brilliance to dazzle them with, so there’s no need to try and baffle them with bullshit. Simple as that.”

Rather: “Well, I’m sorry to have bothered you, sir. I won't do it again. I promise.”

Ghost of Mr. Murrow: “I'd appreciate that. I really need to be resting in peace, and not be involved in this insanity. And a little friendly advice before I go. Once you retire, stay the hell away from the public. Find a hobby, do something with yourself, but for the sake of humanity, please stay out of sight. (long pause) And Dan... one other thing.”

Rather: “Yes sir. Anything you say, sir.”

Ghost of Mr. Murrow: “Courage. (laughter trails, as Dan walks away, all alone)

Come Monday, It’ll Be Alright

(I Just Know it...Now Lemme Outta Here)

I spent the day and part of the early evening hours at the hospital, getting some tests done. Over the weekend, I experienced some vision problems and it got a little worse, so I decided to have it checked out. Lucky me. While I was sitting back in the waiting room, reading one of those 3 year old Reader’s Digest, I happened to notice a young lady sitting in the next seat over from me. I don’t recall how it started, but we struck up a conversation. And she wanted to talk about politics. So, I silently prayed that her problem was not high blood pressure, already...being the charitable and cautious guy that I am.

I don’t mean to sound like I’m judging, but I could tell right away I would be dealing with a certified bimbo. There was no doubt about that. And, she did not let me down.

Her first comments were about the election, and if I were pleased about it. I responded that I was not really pleased, but it could have been much worse. And for the next 10 minutes I tried to cipher what she was trying to say. She was disappointed that Kerry/Edawrds lost, and she was depressed, and she wasn’t able to cook, clean, yada, yada, yada. She was pathetic, and I told her so, and even suggested she was wasting her time here, as the people here weren’t prepared to help her. Gave her lots of what I considered to be good advice, but she would have none of it.

Thankfully, she was called in ahead of me. I was hoping that I would still be here when she came back out. Lady luck smiled on me... she was out in about 15 minutes, and after she talked to the lady at the glassed in booth, she came and sat back down beside me. I smiled at her. She gave me her phone number and said she would love to talk more, but that she didn’t feel well and was going home ad going to bed. We exchanged good-bye and nice to meet ya’s, and she went on her way, and I finally got called to the back. Yippee!

After finishing my ordeal, I went back to the office and began to contemplate the day. How could any human being think the way this lady thinks? The lady from the hospital! I mean, she has all her complete faith in one individual... a human being, who is bound to fail himself and countless others. I’m glad tonight that I’m not depending on a single earthly person to keep me okay with myself. That would be a huge let down, and I realize that. That’s why I ain’t going there.

It’s really sad that so many people want to place their faith, even their whole future into one single individual, who is bound to screw up somewhere down the road. It’s gonna happen, simply because we are all human. We’re destined to falter and fail.
Look, I don’t depend on any one or any thing to make sure that I’m happy. It’s no one’s responsibility to make me happy. Why can’t people understand that? John Lennon may have had it right when he sang “Happiness is a Warm Gun”. Oh, don’t go jumping off the plank here. It’s tongue in cheek, okay?

Anyway, I realized today that there are quite a few people who are bent out of shape and stressed because of an election. But why? I mean, if one can tolerate 4 years of a bad marriage, 4 years of a bad president will come and go. Even if you’re not in a bad marriage, consider yourself blessed... if a bad president is all you have, then you ain’t in such bad shape. Sing it with me now.... “Come Monday, It’ll Be Alright”....

Ain’t that better?

Sacred Nachos

I figure if a person has an experience such as I had a little while ago, then the words fortunate and blessed seem to fail the actual experience. I’m talking about a bonafide, damned near made in the USA miracle. Makes the Virgin Mary Grilled Cheese Sandwich seem more like Madonna...no offense to the good lady Mary!

Call it a fluke, call it karma, call it a revelation, call it righteous...whatever it was, well, it was surreal. I realize I’m not worthy to even be a witness to such a phenomena, but at my age, a man takes what he can get.

It seemed to me sort of a poetic justice, or maybe injustice, to see JF’nK dipped in the cheese and peppers, with not a hair out of place and nor a wrinkle to be seen. This was truly a Botox Moment. It was only fitting to see Johnnie there. After all, we’re talking about diversity here. Cheese from Wisconsin, Mexico, and Switzerland. Chips made from Iowa corn, and beer from North Carolina. How righteous can anything get? Like, gag with me a jalapeno.

The meal itself was very good. I like spicy food, and spicy this was. I failed to close my eyes and bless this food, as I realized how could this serving be anymore blessed, as to having the cameo of JF’nK as a main player in the dip. Come on, I even had to nibble around “that area”, as I felt it may be hazardous to my health to get too close to “the man”. Know what I mean? I mean, here’s a dude who was almost president, a real nam hero, (just ask him about it)a blue-blooded gigolo of an old coot, and a man who married up rather nicely. Sanctimonious, dudes and dudettes.
After I recovered from the meal experience, I walked back across the street, across the parking lot, and back to my office, singing to myself, audibly, the words to “Why Me Lord”. I tell you, this was a very humbling experience. Could I have been? I mean, do you think it was? Uh, what above divine in...”? Whoa, Nellie...reckon it was a tap from the Big Guy himself? No, I don’t mean JF’n K. I mean the REAL BIG GUY!

Whatever it was, within two hours of this sacred supper, I began to have tumultuous heartburn. And it was heartburn from hell. Now, I wasn’t so sure of the sacrilege of the vision in the cheese and peppers. I began to have a dull headache...blurred vision. It was terrible. I’m thinking, "This is like, totally, not from God." Such a revelation. Wow. I knew it was near time to swing for the fence! But how could I decipher where this came from? At first, it was like divine, but then, it seemed to get really ugly. I didn’t exactly get sick, but I surely had seen better days, that’s for sure.

Anyway, that’s my experience with the Sacred Nachos, and I don’t know if I’ll ever go back over there (across the street) or not. This was one experience I could have lived without, and had to pay good money to experience it. One thing is for sure...maybe I should have left the nachos as is, and sealed them up and took them on the road. I’m sure I could’ve made a bundle. Especially in Florida, where the Kerry devotees have gone to therapy in droves. This could have been manna from above for them. All the healing properties of hot cheese and peppers. Would have burned their blues away. DAY-UM! Of all the opportunities to miss. *SIGH* Guess it wasn’t meant to be...for profit! Who’d a thunkit?

Walking away thumping chest..... BLECH! Thank you, Lord, for those Sacred, Sanctimonious Nachos. AMEN! BLECH!

BTW, this guy gets it!

“Feelings...Wo-oh-oh Feelings” (Go Fish)

Right when you think the folks at Peta could not get any more bizarre, they launch the fish empathy patrol. Yes, it’s been discovered that fish are intelligent, they have feelings, and they are not to be eaten. They’ve gone after the cow and all things beef, and pigs, and chickens, and now fish. Fish? Give me a break. Fish are intelligent? Then why are so many of them being caught? Maybe fish, not unlike PETA, should keep the mouth shut.

After listening to a local talk radio station yesterday, who had a very young lady on the show, discussing this stuff. She was from PETA, and I swear to you, she couldn't string a 3 word sentence together without 2 of the words being "you know". She talked like a valley girl.... Harper Valley!

I had a million questions for Ms Fishlover. How about crickets? Are they okay for the "fishes" to eat? They have feelings. I know they do. I can tell when I hook them when I’m fishing for bream. But about the intelligence of a cricket. Any critter that can rub their legs together to make that sound they make, certainly has my respect.

I guess the main thing that peaks my curiosity about fish is regarding knowing or not whether they have other outlets, or traits, or emotions, or whatever. For instance, do fish have a sense of humor? Do they laugh at worm jokes? Are they a traditional type critter? Like, do they celebrate specific holidays such as we do, since they do have feelings and are intelligent. Do they get excited at Christmas? Do they have their own traditional Thanksgiving feast of worms and crickets? Do they stay on the bottom during Labor Day weekend? Hey, I have a zillion questions.

Also, I would be interested to know if these PETA people think that these fish should have a right to vote. I mean, come on, this country needs a little more diversity...let’s hear it for the PETA Party! YESSSSSSSSSSSSS! Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? One of the first things I thought about when I heard this parlance of the finned species, back in the times of Jesus, when He was feeding the multitudes... I recall the miracle regarding the 5 barley loaves and 2 fish. It doesn’t say 5 White Rye and 2 Green Onions. Get real! I reckon God, the Father, neglected in telling the boy about the fish thing.

How about partying? Do fish like to party? Do they drink or do drugs? Do they have little "cliques" as humans do? Do fish gossip? How about soap operas? Do they like those? And do they watch Oprah and listen to Howard Stern? Hey, do they bar hop? Do they have to go to private clubs, like, where NO CATS ALLOWED? (Sorry, that one has just been begging for it!)

Now, for the grand finale. What can fish do to contribute to mankind, other than to serve as a tasty dish? They can’t work a regular job and pay taxes. They can’t go to church and tithe. They can’t own homes and such, and beef up the revenue, so what good are they? Think about it...the only good fish is a breaded and buttered one!

And they sang a hymn, and went away!

_______________________________
Should we have a fund raising drive to have bumper stickers made that proclaims:

Save a Cricket - Eat a Fish

Just a Little Byte

One cannot be conquered if he/she remains a shoe step ahead!

oej

A Thought for the Weekend...

Sticks and stones, may break your bones...but politicians will pick your pockets!

oej

Alimony: Palestinean Style

I have to say this. Suha Arafat sure plucked the Golden Goose of Palestine in a big way. Hey, $22 mil a year ain't nuttin' to sneeze at.(Johnny Carson, call your lawyer right away!) Luckily, her dearly departed hubby had just coughed up $11 million to take care of her for 6 months. Ain't a bad gig if you can land it, huh? What a classy lady for such a classy guy! WRONG!

The money that Arafat had stashed away was intended for his people. Because of the Mrs. greed factor, and also the lavish lifestyle that Yasser required, there was nothing left for the "little people". Yet, they want to pronounce the scumbag a hero. No thanks, Jimmy Carter. We can do without that.

This man was the Father of Terrorism. You can look at the man and see nothing but pure evil. If I were Ringo Starr, I'd have some kind of cosmetic sugery on my ass, and quick! Heaven only knows.

Suha, it seems, loves to live the extravagant lifestyle. Look, I pay 63 cents for a cup of hot, fresh coffee. What is the price of coffee that Suha drinks? I shudder to think. Think about it, $22 million is a lot of loot. I've survived on a lot less. But why is she entitled to this much money? This is nuts!

Think about this, people. One lone lady, who at best, is a stooge of a wife for Arafat, gaining $22 million on an annual basis. And the people are getting screwed... without even a kiss. What will happen? Will the people of Palestine wake up, or will they give Ms Arafat the goods? Will the people continue in poverty or will they arise and walk to freedom? Probably not. Seems they're destined for belts of dynamite.

It's a shame the way so many people, supposedly dignified folks from all over the globe are calling this swine a statesmen... a purveyor of peace. Yea, right! And Mona Lisa was a man, right? Sure thing.

As I've been taught all my life, 54 years of it, if you speak of the dead, say something good, so I will do just that... "Arafat's dead... Good!".

Have a nice weekend!

oej

"Come Friday...."

Regarding all the buzz regarding Arafat's 9 lives, he's dead, he's not...and on and on and on and on...give me a break. My sources tell me, and this is a direct quote...

"Come Friday, we bury the old man, dead or not."

You heard it first...right here.

We now return you to whatever sane thing you may have been doing!

oej

What a Difference a Day Makes

Regardless of the good day that I've experienced, I am deeply saddened, by Tim Daschle's defeat. It will be seared...forever seared into my hapless mind!

oej

Heeeeeeeeeeeere's Johnny!

Well, a typical day at the polls, I see. Here at home at my precinct, as of 11AM, approximately 25% of registered voters had already voted. Everywhere in the area, there are crowds standing in line. As I looked back at the Presidential race in 2000, our county voted like this:
Of 31 places, it was--

Bush 24--------58%

Gore 6--------41%

Tie 1

Even though the polls from 2000 tell us nothing about this election, I am anxious to compare the numbers when all is said and done!

It has been reported that the Philly Phanatics are at it again...having 2000 votes on machines before the polls open! I guess the dead voted very early! And in Jersey, a white powder was thrown inside, and the place was evacuated.
And it's not even noon yet!