My county is heavily Republican and what I would call working poor in a state that is moderately Republican. Here are the results from our primary, county wide.
Obama 613
Clinton 1,265
McCain 627
Huckabee 1,000
Paul 36
Romney 25
It's a virtual tie between Obama and McCain. The question remains if Republican voters will back McCain like they do Huckabee, once McCain inevitably wins the Rep nomination. Maybe they will just not show up? That's the wild card that we have no idea about yet because Huckabee refuses to drop out.
As you can see, Clinton is still polling very well in our county. This could be due to the "Why do we read forwarded e-mail?" post by silver-tongued devil, dramatically affecting Barack's influence among Democratic voters because of his falsified islamic extremist roots. That's supposed religion wrapped up in race and packaged as fear. An enigma anyone? I suggest the race/religion card as a plausible argument because the Hillary hatred among Republicans is intense enough that I can't imagine any of them voting for her in our open primary. So Republicans, if they voted Democrat, voted for Obama. That means if Obama has lost by such a wide margin it's because the county Democrat faithful are more afraid of Barack than anyone else. It's fascinating from a sociological standpoint to see as this race unfolds if there is more prejudice toward women candidates or African-American candidates. Because if you find yourself voting Democrat, which the momentum seems to be building as such, here you have to wrestle with one prejudice or the other. Who becomes the new exception to the rule and challenges long-held prejudices?
In the end though, I feel for our county that the political race will be not about the economy or the war or even sexism/racism, but about who best identifies with our working class. The better rhetoritician tends to win those battles, regardless of how much straight talk and 90s nostalgia gets thrown around.
Dairy Queen
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
How Much Will This War Cost US?
A very enlightening post from Open Mind Dave today about the Christian sources for peacemaking and some shocking statistics about the human costs of the war in Iraq. Here is some information about what the war is costing in dollars and cents.
I care about that and I also care about the human costs of war. It is Unacceptable that a veteran should ever be homeless. There is a problem when there are 120 veterans killing themselves every week.
The war in Iraq is bad foreign policy, it is bad fiscal policy and it is taking a terrible toll on the brave men and women who signed up and honorably served this country. The candidate who wants my vote going forward is going to have to address these issues. It is not enough to talk about ending the war, which we should do. We also have to act in the best interest of the amazing young men and women who have given life and limb to support our country.
If you really support our troops feed, house and care for them at the end of their tours of duty!
I care about that and I also care about the human costs of war. It is Unacceptable that a veteran should ever be homeless. There is a problem when there are 120 veterans killing themselves every week.
The war in Iraq is bad foreign policy, it is bad fiscal policy and it is taking a terrible toll on the brave men and women who signed up and honorably served this country. The candidate who wants my vote going forward is going to have to address these issues. It is not enough to talk about ending the war, which we should do. We also have to act in the best interest of the amazing young men and women who have given life and limb to support our country.
If you really support our troops feed, house and care for them at the end of their tours of duty!
Friday, February 1, 2008
How much does a baby cost?
If you guessed $23,980, you're getting close. The hospital bill is adding up after a week and a half. A few more weeks and we'll top the $100,000 mark. Our insurance covers all but $3,000 (our out of pocket maximum) which is good. That's covered when we figured our flexible spending account with the pre-taxed dollars we set aside was exactly $3,000. Final cost to us that hasn't already been covered by money previously set aside: $0. The feeling that we may get to take home a bundle of joy while barely batting an eyelash? Priceless.
Why Do We read Forwarded E-mail
As if it is gospel truth? I must admit the jokes are cute sometimes, but for goodnes sake.
I have been in conversations with two people in my office this week who have mentioned America electing its first Muslim president... is Cat Stevens, I mean Yusuf Islam running?
Barack Obama is not a Muslim..
Islam 08...Morning Has Broken Indeed
I have been in conversations with two people in my office this week who have mentioned America electing its first Muslim president... is Cat Stevens, I mean Yusuf Islam running?
Barack Obama is not a Muslim..
Islam 08...Morning Has Broken Indeed
John Edwards and $400 Haircuts
I want desperately (in some ways) to believe that John Edwards is really concerned about the lives of America's poorest citizens. There is much in his rhetoric and in his life that points to an authentic concern for people who live in poverty.
Edward's dropped out of the presidential race earlier this week. I hope that Clinton and Obama will keep the stories of the poor as a part of their campaign narratives. There is much that is absurd about the level amount of poverty in America today and America must do better than it has done to create opportunity fir people who live in poverty
At the press conference where John Edward's dropped out of the race he talked about stopping on the way to the press conference to talk with some homeless people . I wonder if the conversation might have gone something like this:
John Edwards: Hey homeless guy. I was running for President so I could speak up for you. I don't want America to forget you live under this bridge.
Homeless Guy: Thanks, I think.
John Edwards: Hey, I'm about to drop out of the race now because I am not getting many votes. Is there anything you want me to tell people for you?
Homeless Guy: No, but I would like to ask you a question?
John Edwards: Ask anything
Homeless Guy: Do you know how many meals I could eat with the $400 you paid to get your hair cut?
Edward's dropped out of the presidential race earlier this week. I hope that Clinton and Obama will keep the stories of the poor as a part of their campaign narratives. There is much that is absurd about the level amount of poverty in America today and America must do better than it has done to create opportunity fir people who live in poverty
At the press conference where John Edward's dropped out of the race he talked about stopping on the way to the press conference to talk with some homeless people . I wonder if the conversation might have gone something like this:
John Edwards: Hey homeless guy. I was running for President so I could speak up for you. I don't want America to forget you live under this bridge.
Homeless Guy: Thanks, I think.
John Edwards: Hey, I'm about to drop out of the race now because I am not getting many votes. Is there anything you want me to tell people for you?
Homeless Guy: No, but I would like to ask you a question?
John Edwards: Ask anything
Homeless Guy: Do you know how many meals I could eat with the $400 you paid to get your hair cut?
The Gospel of Food: Chapter One
"I go out walking after midnight, out in the moonlight just like we used to do.
I'm always walking after midnight, searching for you. " - Patsy Cline
When I was at the fountain drink machine in the hospital in the wee hours of this morning, I had a Mello Yello. Mello Yello was my undergrad soda of choice. I pulled many an all-nighter on four or more Mello Yello. Yellow soda, while tasty, is very disconcerting. I recommend getting hooked on a more common cola color.
I must confess that my first love was RC Cola. Never with moonpies. That came in college. Just Royal Crown Cola by itself. I mean, with a name like Royal Crown it was easy to assume it was the best and only consumed by the best! That's what I thought at 8. I'm never sure why I didn't adhere to a strict Coca-Cola, Pepsi, or Dr. Pepper doctrine. Perhaps RC Cola was just the local drink of choice. As I reach back and discern its appeal, I fondly remember the colors of the can. Something about the red, white, and blue is, how shall I put it, American? It's also distinctly French and Liberian, but anyway... RC Cola was my elementary school crush.
One of my friends was a big Coke drinker in middle school. He was crazy for Coke. He pushed it on me for a year or so, up until 8th Grade. That's when I got braces, and the orthodontist encouraged me to switch to Diet Coke. Diet Coke was my high school sweetheart. I have several high school pics of me holding a Diet Coke, like some people hold a cigarette. I lived in an apartment complex behind a grocery store and would pick up a twelve pack at a time. I got to the point where I couldn't wait long enough to cool the cans in the refrigerator and started drinking straight from the package. Room temperature, as I say. What everyone else prefers to label warm. When it's chilled, it brings out a different flavor.
I already discussed most of my undergrad, but my senior year deserves a small footnote. My senior year of undergrad I tried abstinence. It lasted for two and six month spells before I succumbed to further caffeine indulgences and withdrawal binges. Those were dark times. We best move on.
There was a gas station around the corner in grad school. Fountain drinks were 59 cents, so three 32 ouncers was fairly typical. I discovered that Coke tastes mcuh better in a fountain drink than Diet Coke. It was created to be a fountain drink anyway! It also tastes better cool from the source, rather than icing it down. This eventually waters down the Coke and dilutes the flavor. Yes, the degree to which I've thought this out is somewhat scary.
I experimented with coffee in undergrad, but it wasn't until grad school that I really consumed it by the barrel. This was done largely in cappucinos and mochas. I tried boiling it back down to a basic cup of joe in my third and final year with some success.
Energy drinks are less about taste and more about caffeine. While moderately appealing, what I really need is something I can drink consistently and cheaply.
The last three years I must confess have been spent in exile. I have gained some ground in the coffee world, but feel largely out of place with a variety of sodas. The Mello Yello this evening brought back simpler times. I feel I need an RC Cola now.
I'm always walking after midnight, searching for you. " - Patsy Cline
When I was at the fountain drink machine in the hospital in the wee hours of this morning, I had a Mello Yello. Mello Yello was my undergrad soda of choice. I pulled many an all-nighter on four or more Mello Yello. Yellow soda, while tasty, is very disconcerting. I recommend getting hooked on a more common cola color.
I must confess that my first love was RC Cola. Never with moonpies. That came in college. Just Royal Crown Cola by itself. I mean, with a name like Royal Crown it was easy to assume it was the best and only consumed by the best! That's what I thought at 8. I'm never sure why I didn't adhere to a strict Coca-Cola, Pepsi, or Dr. Pepper doctrine. Perhaps RC Cola was just the local drink of choice. As I reach back and discern its appeal, I fondly remember the colors of the can. Something about the red, white, and blue is, how shall I put it, American? It's also distinctly French and Liberian, but anyway... RC Cola was my elementary school crush.
One of my friends was a big Coke drinker in middle school. He was crazy for Coke. He pushed it on me for a year or so, up until 8th Grade. That's when I got braces, and the orthodontist encouraged me to switch to Diet Coke. Diet Coke was my high school sweetheart. I have several high school pics of me holding a Diet Coke, like some people hold a cigarette. I lived in an apartment complex behind a grocery store and would pick up a twelve pack at a time. I got to the point where I couldn't wait long enough to cool the cans in the refrigerator and started drinking straight from the package. Room temperature, as I say. What everyone else prefers to label warm. When it's chilled, it brings out a different flavor.
I already discussed most of my undergrad, but my senior year deserves a small footnote. My senior year of undergrad I tried abstinence. It lasted for two and six month spells before I succumbed to further caffeine indulgences and withdrawal binges. Those were dark times. We best move on.
There was a gas station around the corner in grad school. Fountain drinks were 59 cents, so three 32 ouncers was fairly typical. I discovered that Coke tastes mcuh better in a fountain drink than Diet Coke. It was created to be a fountain drink anyway! It also tastes better cool from the source, rather than icing it down. This eventually waters down the Coke and dilutes the flavor. Yes, the degree to which I've thought this out is somewhat scary.
I experimented with coffee in undergrad, but it wasn't until grad school that I really consumed it by the barrel. This was done largely in cappucinos and mochas. I tried boiling it back down to a basic cup of joe in my third and final year with some success.
Energy drinks are less about taste and more about caffeine. While moderately appealing, what I really need is something I can drink consistently and cheaply.
The last three years I must confess have been spent in exile. I have gained some ground in the coffee world, but feel largely out of place with a variety of sodas. The Mello Yello this evening brought back simpler times. I feel I need an RC Cola now.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Amy Ray sings, "I heard that you were drunk and mean down at the Dairy Queen." To me, it's a statement about life in a small town, and the absurdity of the convergence of randomness in a single place. My whole life has been a conversation with absurd randomness, and the ability to make sense of it all, even if that sense is no sense.
Today one of the housekeeping staff at the hospital I'm at was talking about the things people leave behind when she worked at a hotel. There was (of course) the random assortment of sexual objects, cases of beer, and all manner of expensive jewelry. But she also shared (in what I can only describe as a special share) about the puke someone left in the shower and across the closet and in the nightstand drawer and splattered on the wall. Oh, and there's the birthday cake that their five year old ground into the floor. All left without a note of apology. They treated the hotel room as if it were the identical twin of the shit that gets pulled at a Dairy Queen. Perhaps more places are like Dairy Queen than not.
The eternal optimist in me (and at heart that's what I am) sees an upside to places like the Dairy Queen though. It's a place where first dates that lead to marriage can plausibly happen. My own was at a bad burger joint in Atlanta called Zesto's, and I wouldn't have chosen any other place if my life depended on it, though several of my friends at the time said I was nuts (I think that one's still up for debate). The Dairy Queen is a place of authenticity as much as absurdity, and I hope that's part that's what this blog will be about.
Establishments like the Dairy Queen are authentic in that enough people subscribe to the place that they have followers, those who come in several times a week with exact change for the exact menu item they ordered last time. And they sit in the same booth and talk to the same person. And while most of us explore a variety of answers, we find ourselves asking some of the same questions throughout our lives. What are those questions? I don't really know, but still I know it to be true.
So that, in a nutshell, or rather an Oreo Blizzard, is what being Drunk and Mean at the Dairy Queen is about.
Today one of the housekeeping staff at the hospital I'm at was talking about the things people leave behind when she worked at a hotel. There was (of course) the random assortment of sexual objects, cases of beer, and all manner of expensive jewelry. But she also shared (in what I can only describe as a special share) about the puke someone left in the shower and across the closet and in the nightstand drawer and splattered on the wall. Oh, and there's the birthday cake that their five year old ground into the floor. All left without a note of apology. They treated the hotel room as if it were the identical twin of the shit that gets pulled at a Dairy Queen. Perhaps more places are like Dairy Queen than not.
The eternal optimist in me (and at heart that's what I am) sees an upside to places like the Dairy Queen though. It's a place where first dates that lead to marriage can plausibly happen. My own was at a bad burger joint in Atlanta called Zesto's, and I wouldn't have chosen any other place if my life depended on it, though several of my friends at the time said I was nuts (I think that one's still up for debate). The Dairy Queen is a place of authenticity as much as absurdity, and I hope that's part that's what this blog will be about.
Establishments like the Dairy Queen are authentic in that enough people subscribe to the place that they have followers, those who come in several times a week with exact change for the exact menu item they ordered last time. And they sit in the same booth and talk to the same person. And while most of us explore a variety of answers, we find ourselves asking some of the same questions throughout our lives. What are those questions? I don't really know, but still I know it to be true.
So that, in a nutshell, or rather an Oreo Blizzard, is what being Drunk and Mean at the Dairy Queen is about.
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