One-item lists, Vol. 2

Things not to say to your pregnant mother
1. D- (in response to J-'s comment that a ground squirrel looked especially fat): "Probably, it's the mom."

Things that are only slightly more fun than a spontaneous, unsedated colonscopy
1. Talking politics with old men from the country during a recession.

Unsolvable mysteries of the universe
1. My wife couldn't care less that I finally acquired some Bacon Salt to sample... This is a woman who would gladly wrap each piece of her breakfast cereal in bacon if only it wasn't so time-consuming.

Things that seem like they must be made up, but are not
1. The head of the Skoll Urgent Threats Fund, formerly head of Google's philanthropic arm, is named Dr. Brilliant. Dr. Larry Brilliant. It just seems like he's showing off every time he signs his name. Can you imagine how ecstatic his dad and mom must be? They would be, respectively, Captain and Professor Brilliant, Lord and Lady of Nerdlingshire.

Things that are ruined by rescheduling for the convenience of adults
1. Halloween. Free the 'Ween, suburbia! I hope you're having a great one today, and that you'll get out there and get you some candy (with hired orphans, if you haven't yet made your own candy-bait organ grinder monkeys) regardless of what your town or church might have declared about when or where you should be pounding on your neighbors' doors, demanding candy in exchange for their peace and security.

Things that amuse me, Vol. 2

Here, in lieu of something more cohesive, are a few of the things that have been amusing me lately:

1. Already a budding patriot at 2, the other day my daughter M- called out, "Look at my sandal!" only to reveal that, for no apparent reason, she'd ripped the flag off one of those 4th of July souvenirs and tied it around her little foot with a piece of string.

2. One recent message in the waves of spam e-mails I get daily stood out from the cesspool of similarly themed junk. It was called, "Your pork pistol won't fail" ...Great, thanks for ruining pork chops for me, for all time. Even schnitzel can't hide such a visual.

3. When perusing Endless.com to see if I could save money by ordering my next pair of sneakers online instead of having to (shudder) go to a store,* I feel like I was victimized by discriminatory software. After putting in the general specs of what I was looking for, the top row of search results were all women's pink ballet slippers. I say, stay out of this, Internet! That diaper bag is just damn handy, okay. That's the limit of my gender bending, I swear.**

4. After only a couple days of having wireless Internet here in the new house, I could already tell I'm going to need to put some kind of wheeled computer desk in the bathroom.

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* No such luck, the universe hates me. I should have realized this by the fact that even New Balance has forsaken me and the sanctity/dryness of the side of my right foot, where the sole of my shoe very subtly detached a mere two months after I started wearing my latest shoes.

** But then, the Internet has never steered me wrong before...

Did you hear the secret about some stores having pretty big sales?

I don't know how you all do it in other countries, but here in America, today is the day that begins this magical time of selfless giving in the most frantic, sleep-deprived, violent way possible.

That's right, sharpen your elbows, cause it's time for... what's that? The day after Thanksgiving passed and took with it all those unbelievable deals?? Damn.

Oh, yeah, that's right... THAT'S what my wife was doing while I was sleeping yesterday... Saving almost $2000 on appliances we needed to buy for our new house anyway. Thanks, desperate retailers of America!

And a special thanks to you, Sears, for narrowly winning your own battle against poor planning and organization to barely not totally mess everything up!

As for you, readers, even if you think you could never be lured down from your lofty position of righteous judgment --a seat I kept warm for many years-- into the fray that is Black Friday, I urge you to at least consider bypassing all that famous interminable-waiting and running and scratching and occasional-murdering while still getting almost all the other benefits-- shop online!

The best part is, when you're online, Black Friday isn't just Friday, so this post is still useful and timely!

Yes, awaken yourselves from those tryptophan-induced comas and remember the spirit of the season: buying more things than anyone would ever need for everyone you know (not forgetting that you are the first person you ever knew), and singlehandedly reviving a sagging economy somehow by demanding to pay retailers less than their cost for a choice selection of the most-wanted consumer goods.

In that very sacred vein, I point you in this direction, to my good friend and partner Amazon, which is offering unbelievably amazing prices for many, many different products this week:

I've only just begun my shopping there for this year, but as long as you don't buy the last thing of something I didn't know I wanted yet, I won't have to track you down and push-trip you while you're triumphantly carrying it from the mailbox a few days later.

Happy shopping!


FULL DISCLOSURE: I might come trip you anyway, just for old time's sake-- you just can't get that full experience online!

Also, as always, I do receive a commission for anything you purchase at Amazon as long as you get there from my site, but don't let that make you think I didn't get involved with them only because I know all sane people shop there at least sometimes, except for those who just haven't seen the light yet. Come into the light!

They never specified "Veterans" of what

As the Calendar Gods grant all Americans (except my mom, as usual) a rare Wednesday off from work and school (or, for some of us, from not neglecting the care of children), I think it's important that we all take at least a few moments to remember who this Veterans Day is really about: Me.

How is this day about me, you ask? In what branch of the military did I serve? Well, that's a complicated question, in one sense. In another, more realistic sense, the fact that I never served is not complicated at all.

But let's look past that technically unanswered question to the most pertinent issue-- I work really hard, kind of, and I sacrifice a lot day in and day out, kind of. I've been the victim of so-called friendly fire as well as, more commonly, heavy enemy fire, in the form of fists, feet, land mines, food, toys, and bodily substances.

I don't think I need to remind you that many of these missiles have been aimed at my eyes and/or nuts.

So for obvious reasons, I could really use this day off, from... sitting around the house with the kids..... dammit.

Now that D-'s in kindergarten, this "day off" school actually means I'll be facing an even greater armed resistance, with reinforcements even better trained in the deadly and disgusting arts.

This makes me fear that while you sit at home yourselves today, you'll be wondering the whole time if I'll survive long enough to post on Friday. I assure you, though, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, and treats in my belly* (thanks, Halloween!), so I'm sure I'll be fine no matter what they throw at me. Literally or figuratively.

So I suggest you change your usual plans for that time from focusing on me to an even more worthy cause-- remembering and thanking those men and women who have so proudly volunteered** to continue sheltering this American experiment that has led the world to a brighter future over the last 233 years.

They sign up for the ultimate sacrifice, and we should always make sure they never have to make it.

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* The latter will help me outlast any forced starvation efforts before the kids themselves need their next meal prepared.

** I include in this, of course, those who were drafted into service or involuntarily reactivated.

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NOTE: While you're remembering the sacrifices of our armed forces, also remember that today would be Madeline Spohr's second birthday. Please stop by her mom's blog to help celebrate Madeline's short but eventful life.

Confirmation of Blogger-Authors' greatness

As I promised a month ago, I'm here to offer my thoughts on (Dad Gone Mad) Danny Evans' first book, Rage Against the Meshugenah, and (Baby on Bored) Stefanie Wilder-Taylor's latest book, It’s Not Me, It’s You, after reading them both in the past few weeks.

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RAGE AGAINST THE MESHUGENAH: Why it Takes Balls to Go Nuts

I wholeheartedly agree with every other reader I've heard from that this book is a must-read for anyone who knows someone (especially a man, or a generally reserved woman) who might be depressed.

This includes, of course, pretty much everyone, and I can't decide who would get more out of it-- people who know they know someone who's depressed, or people who haven't yet put all the signs together.

The tone of the book is not all dark and depressing, which would kind of defeat the purpose, nor is it all wisecracking superficiality. It's the same blend of both aspects (and others) that you get in the most rewarding, memorable conversations you have with good friends.

I know I'm not saying anything everyone who's listening hasn't already heard before, but I felt compelled (as someone who has faced a lot of the same struggles as Danny) to build on my preview post to confirm that yes, you really, really should read this book, one way or another.

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IT’S NOT ME, IT’S YOU: Subjective Recollections from a Terminally Optimistic, Chronically Sarcastic and Occasionally Inebriated Woman

As much as I enjoyed Stefanie's first two books, Sippy Cups Are Not for Chardonnay and Naptime Is the New Happy Hour, I appreciated those on a much more superficial level, as a parent laughing at how ridiculous children and their parents can be sometimes.

Stefanie's new book is different, in that it's a straightforward, self-assured comic memoir, which is a genre (led by David Sedaris) that I particularly enjoy.

To keep you invested in her biography without getting caught up in a weepy tell-all, Stefanie sprinkles in just the right amount of references to the deeper drama and conflicts in her life that led to the amusing and occasionally bizarre stories that are the star of this book.

The result is a fast-reading collection of essays that can be taken all together in order, or separately and at random, without missing information that would keep you from appreciating her humor or storytelling abilities. I highly recommend this book to anyone who likes humorous memoirs or personal essays.

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In unrelated news (about which I'm sure you'll see, hear, and read a great many more stirring tributes and remembrances than I can muster), today is of course the 8th anniversary of the hijackings of 9/11/01, for which I'm almost totally sure you can hold these two folks entirely blameless. How's that for an endorsement??

Important Question: Reaching out to touch your audience?

Since people usually have better things to do on Fridays than read blogs, and since this particular weekend is a holiday for much of my readership, I figured I'd just post something simple today-- another of my extremely Important Questions.

As a bonus, my question today features both Our President and "America" in one sentence:

Do you think President Obama deliberately set his calls to public service to run exclusively between Girls Gone Wild infomercials all night across America?

These are things I wonder when I'm up way, way too late procrastinating on writing with stupid addictive word games on Facebook.*

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* Not that I should encourage myself... but then I rarely act in my own best interests... If you're looking to come get destroyed, click the above link, or this one, to keep your newest word-game archenemy as close as a Facebook friend can be.

A social experiment: In Sharpie We Trust

Since I'm supposed to be vacationing, here's just a quick snippet I had saved in my Drafts folder for you all awhile ago:

What do Americans really think of their transatlantic cousins?

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So I wrote to all these celebrities in the hope of getting them to sign the Union Jack and offer a message of support - things like, 'Hang in there!'

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I'm pretty sure the core of this test was to see how many of these Americans would be willing to deface the British flag with a marker after exposure to only the slightest amount of peer pressure.

Can you think of a better explanation?

Don't you have some Memorializing to do?

That's right, I caught you. Or at least the Americans, anyway.

This isn't some cheap Labor-Day-type holiday, where you can sit on the patio guiltlessly drinking beer and barbecuing every meal from breakfast cereal on up. It's not a day meant for you to take a load off and reflect on how awesome you are-- this is a day to honor important people!*

So you have to guiltfully drink that beer and barbecue those corn flakes, because while it may be one of the very precious few days off you're given as a supposedly lazy American worker, you'd better make damn sure you take at least a few minutes today to remember why even blood-sucking, accountability-dissipating American corporations won't take this day from you:

A lot of people --black, white, poor, rich, straight, gay, Christian, Muslim-- over the years have answered a higher calling, but couldn't make it back here to enjoy days like this after they helped make sure we could all continue to enjoy them.

So maybe, to adapt a tradition, throw an extra piece of cake, bag of chips, or glass of milk on the grill this afternoon for your friends who couldn't make it. They'll be glad you did, and so should you.

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* Ooooooooooooooh, burn!

A note upon Inauguration 2009

I needn't point out that today is a special day. We all know my preference for president, so I won't go on about that.

I just want to state for the record how disappointed I am that this inauguration is taking place in the middle of the week, and that I am not able to be there. I know that as time goes on, life will leave me even less flexible to accommodate last-minute schedule changes for opportunities like this, so I had really hoped to make it happen somehow.

Alas, J- will be left watching with all the students in her school, I'll be watching with the kids until we have to take D- to preschool, but I'll do everything I can to make sure the kids remember this day even if only in some small way (such as vague memories that I wouldn't stop yammering on about it during Duplo time).

I won't do this because we've elected "a black president" but rather because we've broken the centuries-old mold of what a president must look like, and we've started chipping away at least a bit at who he or she has to know and be indebted to.

And possibly even more important than that is the fact that even though we elected yet another candidate from our democracy-choking Two Parties, it feels like we all cast aside the many safe, easy choices this time and went with someone whose fresh ideas (at least for our current age) we listened to and specifically responded to, one way or another.

How many people were genuinely inspired by John Kerry, Bob Dole, Michael Dukakis, or either of the Bushes? These are people, among others, who benefitted from either "seeming presidential", having the right connections in a shallow pool, or just not screwing up enough to lose their party's nomination.

So for better or worse, we'll turn our back (at least for a little while) on the willfully irresponsible and damaging Bush years, and try our hand at shaping our own future. Even if Mr. Obama does nothing but speechify and Propose Big Things for four years, as long as he helps keep this momentum going, I think we can help ourselves just fine.

We can all tear down the duct tape and plastic wrap (for longer than it takes to hit the mall for the latest Thing We Don't Really Need), slide our Terror Alert Level down from Orange - Convenient Generalized Fear and Pliability to the never-before-seen Green - Commonsense Vigilance with Personal Freedom, let the sun shine on us and all our affairs, and then really start digging ourselves out of the many messes we're in.

It may make for a long few decades, but at least we can get through it with a smile and a lighter load on our shoulders. So here's to that!

Thanksgiving's done, now on to Christmas, right?

I'm going to be brutally honest with you all* right now.


Why has no one told me all these years that someone out there was manufacturing giant, lighted, inflatable Santas with bitchin' shades on a sweet hog??

I've been making an idiot out of myself all this time by NOT having one of these in my yard! For how long am I now doomed to rue these wasted years??

You have brought shame upon us all with your deception.

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* Or should I say, those of you who aren't doing your patriotic duty right now elbowing old ladies in the face at fire sales down at the mall. You're all off the hook, as I'm crying a single red, white, and blue tear for your brave sacrifices.

What are turkeys thankful for?

As my American readers know, today is Thanksgiving.* On this day, we are expected to give thanks for the plenty of food and family/friends we are lucky enough to have, and we are meant to celebrate this by ridiculously overindulging in both.

Because of this extreme ritual, we can manage as easily to last an entire year at a time without eating corn-syrup-soaked cranberries jellied into the shape of a can and as we can go that same year without again speaking to or otherwise acknowledging those most distant relatives whose branch of the family tree you can't easily trace.

This holiday is our central teaching tool for that noble tradition our ancestors set in place so long ago: When blessed with plenty, burn through your stores like the freezer's broken; when tested by famine, may you begin to understand why.**

Amen. Now pass me some of those candied corporate profits-- I'm starving!

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* Canadian readers: You may not be aware of it, but what you celebrated last month is rightly called "Canadian Thanksgiving". Please see that you correct your calendars.

** It's believed there was a followup proverb, lost to history, saying essentially that one can always guilt a bunch of Indians into sharing all their stuff whenever you need some.

At long last, Pt. 2

I've never done long multi-part posts like this before (unless you count the saga of how I nearly lost an eye), but it became clear it was definitely called for this time.

You may want to read Part 1 of my experience at the election day Obama rally in Grant Park before continuing.

...

Once inside the Parallel Party Someone's Mom Organized For The Uninvited Nerds, we found that to keep the mob from storming the inexplicably opaque* fences of the Cool People's Party, at least 10 Jumbotrons were set up around the rest of the park, with the primary one alone allowing probably 60,000 people to soak in CNN's commercials** and ridiculous gimmicks for hours before and after Obama's actual speech (on a closed-circuit feed).

So we had to satisfy ourselves with watching TV while standing alongside a whole bunch of other very happy voters. Since it was immediately evident that all of these many, many spectators were exceedingly peaceful and well-mannered, this prospect wasn't as undesirable as it might have been under other circumstances. I had known for months that I wanted to be out Amongst The People for this night, no matter the outcome, and I got exactly what I came for.

J-, on the other hand, apparently got some kind of alien larvae threatening to Cesaerean itself right out of her abdomen, as was the diagnosis issued by the esteemed Doctor We-Don't-Want-To-Leave-So-We'll-Just-Play-It-By-Ear-While-Basking-In-The-Extra-Space-A-Sudden-Unexplained-Vaguely-Stomach-Related-Illness-Helpfully-Provides-In-A-Crowd.

These guys got all dressed up for nothing.

I haven't mentioned how miraculously warm it was that night, but it was over 70 degrees for three straight days, which is about 40 degrees higher than a typical November in Chicago. Clearly, it was a sign that God wants Barack Obama to be president.

This warmth was amped up at least 10 degrees in the thick of that many walking space heaters, and I'm sure the oxygen content of the air within the crowd was about half the dose required for sustaining life. Hence J-'s alien larvae decided to take evasive action by cutting power to her ears, sense of balance, and (almost) her consciousness.

It was at this point I decided to let J- lead us in a little conga line back through the crowd, issuing promises of copious vomit to anyone unwilling to make way quickly enough. I left her on a strangely unused filthy stage far from any of the Jumbotrons, and then made my way back into the madness to find some water.

Not just any water, mind you --after all, we were alongside one of the largest sources of fresh water in the world-- but rather the most expensive water I could find. Nothing's too good for my precious, and how else does one measure quality but by expense?

Luckily, I was in amongst a large, captive pool of consumers, so I felt sure I could count on Connie's Pizza to provide me with nothing but the best. After waiting out the 350 people ahead of me, I was relieved though unsurprised to find a bottle of water (not unlike the two I had confiscated at the gate) going for a patriotic $3, and knowing this stuff thus must be far better than any beverage I'd previously ingested, I readily threw down my money for a $5 slice of pizza while I was at it (since the mysteriously ill lady had decided greasy cheese would be an invaluable assistant in getting back on her feet).

...

After saluting the noble folks at Connie's (look for their Delivery Maseratis in a neighborhood near you), I again waded through a rainbow blur of human skin, dropped off the food, refolded J-'s death shroud, and headed out to find us a new base of operations. As I walked all over this sprawling park, I found several previously unnoticed McCain-sized rallies around each bend, in a layout I couldn't even begin to map out. If only the Secret Service would release some of the photos they must have been taking from their lonely helicopters up there in that restricted airspace, I could feel vindicated in my opinion of the crowd estimates.

...

Once again, you can read part 1 here, and look for part 3 tomorrow and part 4 after that.

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* Why can't I at least watch through the short chain-link fence, under the watchful eye of security forces?? Those flimsy little fences weren't protecting ANYone.

** I can't have been the only one looking for my DVR remote to obliterate those commercials. I'd almost forgotten what an irritating experience they provide.

You know what you need to do

It may sound insincere, given my clear preference in this election, but I can honestly say that no matter who you're voting for, please make sure to do so today, if you haven't already.

If only everyone legally allowed would vote in every election (and then those votes were all recorded accurately before being faithfully tallied, of course), I think we'd stop being defined by the simmering dissatisfaction, constant infighting, and impotent rage coursing through this country.

If everyone just let their choices be known and then dealt with the consequences, we'd have so much more time for really important things instead of spending so much of it focusing on regrets and pointless analysis.

Anyway, enough with the sappy melodrama. Just make sure, like me, that this won't be any of you today:

Tomorrow morning after the rally, of course, all my bets are off.

They're up in arms in Sandwich, IL

You know, folks, many of us have spent plenty of quality time mocking the Bush Administration's beating the drums of war against Iran, but though it pains me to admit it, they just might be onto something:

Iranian crowd devours world's largest sandwich

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Iranian workers prepare[d] a giant ostrich meat sandwich in an attempt to achieve a Guinness World Record ... But as the sandwich was being measured, chaos ensued ... when the crowd started eating it before it could be [officially] measured.

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I think we can all agree that if there are precious few habits we Americans consider "our things", among them most certainly would have to be forming angry mobs, eating compulsively whatever's put in front of us, and being the butt of everyone else's jokes.

But now the Iranians try to top all past and future competition with this madness? What are we to make of this affront to our honor, this usurpation of our primary role in global affairs? I say we move on to our second, and let slip the dogs of war!

But does anyone else really, really want a sandwich before we head out?

All the Queen's bees vs. all the President's boys

On the way home from preschool yesterday, D- began chanting a somewhat disturbing song I only vaguely recalled hearing before-- The Baby Bumblebee Song.

Like any red-blooded American, my first thought was that I needed to call the ACLU to organize a protest against the teaching of this song that clearly incites violence against innocent bees, but then I thought, you know what else incites violence against suddenly-less-than-innocent bees? Those panicky little f***ers themselves stinging people without having the decency to give them a little honey first.

I guess I run hot and cold like that, so it's good to know that the kid is being sent off somewhere two afternoons a week to study at the feet of more level-headed people who understand we need to begin training our anti-bee army* as early as possible, to protect America at home and abroad in our uncertain future.

In case you haven't yet had the honey-soaked veil lifted, don't feel too bad when singing happily about slaughtering their young-- all these bees are steadily leaving for more profitable positions overseas anyway, so they can jack up their already obscene profits by avoiding taxes while exploiting our insatiable appetites and not giving a bit back voluntarily.

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* An important special unit in our overall War Against Nature.

Brother, can you spare $700 billion?

The following is an only mildly sarcastic note I sent to my Congresspeople* yesterday. If you'd like to send one, too, you can go to VoteNoBailout.org for a quick and easy method (including a prewritten letter, if you don't have time to write one of your own).

Note: Feel free to reuse my letter below for writing your own representatives, if you're so inclined.

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Hello,

I'm writing to register my feelings on the massive bailout package proposed by the Bush Administration and currently being considered by Congress.

The people controlling the giant banks that run our financial system knowingly put themselves, and the rest of us by extension, in position for this disaster for the sake of making increasingly huge profits for over a decade.

Let them use some of these riches they made to bail themselves out, and save the people's money for those of us who don't have such resources to dig ourselves out.

If these corporations didn't have a contingency plan to avoid bankruptcy, then they're no better than the homeowners so derided lately for signing on to mortgages they couldn't afford to pay.

Of course, it would seem that the banks' first-level backup may have been to get the Bush administration to use its still-impressive power to publicly bully and belittle politicians into going along with whatever they demand, in this case a free pass to tear up the piles of IOUs the bankers wrote without any ability to back up.

Why are "socialist" programs and efforts only acceptable to Republicans when the beneficiaries are huge corporations and wealthy individuals? They spend all their time when profits are up preaching about the simple beauty of capitalism-- they can use some time dealing with the less fun side of it now. I'd hate to incite what would normally be a huge outrage for them by encouraging the "government to interfere with the free market."

Whether this bailout money goes to them or not, we're all on our own to sort through the effects of their unchecked greed and irresponsibleness, barring whatever assistance to individuals the government decides to offer. That assistance is much less likely to be substantial once this incredible sum of money, pulled from who-knows-where**, is gone.

Please vote No to Bush's Bailout, and instead urge these people to use all their business school training and financial intelligence to sort things out for themselves, so the rest of us can get a helping hand as needed from our representatives in government.

I hear there's $700 billion dollars just laying around in our emergency fund-- maybe we could use that?

Thank you for your time.

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* Which includes, of course, the Distinguished Gentleman From Illinois currently running for president.

** I know where-- China!***

*** No, I didn't include any footnotes in the e-mail itself. But I should have.

The finest in casual dining

A couple of days ago, the kids and I took a jaunt down to the massive outdoor mall* near our house, which meant that we got to bite into a juicy cross section of what passes for Americana these days.

Among the stores we passed was a Chili's**, which caught D-'s eye immediately. He said, "Hey look, there's that 'rons-traunt' we went to that time." I acknowledged this and praised him as usual for his good memory, since it was quite awhile ago. He stared at the window as we (happily) passed it by, and his brain began to slowly warp itself before he continued with a second thought. I was all over it two words in-- I don't know why I'm so tuned into his brain patterns most of the time, but I just knew exactly what he was thinking.

D-: Remember we went there that time 'cause Momma's friend works there, and she...

Me: Nope, that was a different place.

D-: No! It was that place right there! We went there and Momma's friend...

Me: You're right that it's the same kind of place, but it's a different restaurant, from a different company.

D-: No it was that place! We went there that time and Momma's friend gave us cookies and they sang Happy Birthday to you!

Me: I promise you, that was a Bennigan's. This is a Chili's. They're pretty much exactly the same restaurant, with the same kind of food, but they have slightly different decorations on the walls. They're from two different companies, and they have two different names, but I can see how you could get confused.

He walked on in silence, since my Imperious Kung Fu is much stronger for the time being, but it was clear from his posture that he still believed he was right, just like I would. As I caught him gazing innocently off in the direction of the Outback Steakhouse, rather than go through this all over again, I immediately veered off the sidewalk to instead cut through the parking lot in the general direction of a big box store whose name willfully escapes me.

Who says America doesn't have any culture?

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* Not to be confused with the other massive outdoor mall also in our town but another mile farther away in a different direction.

** I had to quickly double-check that it wasn't actually an Applebee's, Ruby Tuesday, Chotchkee's, Flingers, Fuddruckers, Uncle Moe's Family Feedbag, TGI Friday's, or one of the others.

Is this what defines the 21st century?

Once again, I couldn't see posting about something else today and ignoring the obvious. This day has haunted all Americans and much of the rest of the world, in one way or another, for most of this century, and it likely will for many more years to come.

So I'm putting this little post out there in memory of the thousands of people victimized on this day 7 years ago and so many days again since, by those seeking to profit in some way from their suffering and tragic deaths.

Here's hoping we can all begin to move past this event and its aftermath in a healthy way, with the same unity we felt back then, so those responsible can be revealed and calmly dealt with in a civilized, rational manner.

No comments necessary.

North Dakota on my mind

In a footnote yesterday, I suggested that I might compare* the U.S. state of North Dakota to a state of near-death.

You must understand that I say this based on the fact that it's the only U.S. state from which I haven't yet recorded a visit to this blog. Every other state has sent me anywhere from a handful to well over a thousand hits, and in fact half the states have visited at least a hundred times, along with 53 foreign countries, but between the two Dakotas, I'm holding steady at 1 visit in almost 8 months.

What gives, Dakotas?!? We must have some common interests or interpersonal connection that might trick you into coming here. Given that you have the highest percentage of churchgoing citizens in the U.S. (according to Wikipedia**) and your highest point is something called White Butte, I feel sure it's a temptation when I suggest you can stop by once in awhile to yell at me for being a "filthy, godless, America-hating, city-slicking, Obama-loving, liberal hippie!" Sound good? You know it does.

Actually, the most cutting of criticisms would be that this whole post is just a ploy to attract an unsuspecting hitchhiker or two wandering the Google turnpike from up Dakota way. This, however, is not remotely accurate, and furthermore: "Gov. John Hoeven", "Mt. Rushmore sucks", Sioux, departing, "Western Meadowlark", "flights out", Minot, "how much longer till I can leave", and "Who needs Mt. Rushmore, anyway... we're just not that showy".

Whatever you wanna say to me now, funny-talking folks, fire at will-- my comment board is open as always!

In closing, it is a distinct honor to disappoint you, my likely-incensed casual North Dakotan drop-ins. I'd love you to stay, but if you simply can't, I ask only that you leave a tiny piece of your Very Upper Midwest souls with my friends at Google Analytics on your way back out the door, so I can finally finish coloring in my cool map of the U.S. various shades of green***.

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* In case you were born/raised in North Dakota, or you have family there, or you'd just like to defend a physically large state containing only almost exactly 10 times the number of people as the minor Chicago suburb in which I live, please note the supremely artful and undeniably endearing hedging of my phrasing^ here. I'd appreciate it if instead of cursing at me, you just chuckled lovingly and suggested I go into politics. ...Okay, go ahead now.

** This is a disclaimer that must always accompany any fact taken from Wikipedia-- new rule.

*** They don't call it "Anal-ytics" for nothing!

^ Or alternatively, you could just admire my extensive and arguably excessive use of adverbs and gerunds.

Declaration of Independence from posting

In honor of the love of vacationing that I share with all Americans*, I'm going to be lame today and do the blog equivalent of a clip show. So while I run off to the parade and ready myself for those most delicious of all meats, free hot dogs, please jump over to this old American-flag-related post you may have missed. Comment freely, as if it's new, and help complete the charade!

Also, let's all wish a Happy Birthday to the little lady who shares this day with Lady Liberty-- my sister Katie. Didn't anyone ever tell you all those fireworks are for her? Today, she's officially an adult, although, fortunately or unfortunately for her, she'll always be my baby sister. Nice try with all that growing up, sucker!


* Though studies show we don't actually tend to take them, for the legitimate fear of being found expendable and fired. We seem to instead make up the time by "wasting" lots of it while at work, such as by reading blogs. Vive la résistance!