Frodo, Keeper of the Ring

Monday, March 27, 2006

Baby You Don't Know What It's Like
Mood:

lucky
Topic: "What We Have Here (2)"
Master Tolkien tells us that Smeagol successfully turned Frodo against Sam at Cirith Ungol. It was, however, not the only time. Recently, Frodo placed an order for straw of the pines, in great quantities, and had it delivered to the Shire. It was the intent of Frodo to luxuriously mulch straw of the pines amidst all the islands of plants on that part of the Shire which borders Minhiriath. Once he had accomplished the basic task, he sought out Sam in order to best coordinate the remainder.

"Of the 20 bales with which I began," said Frodo, "I now have 6 left. If you will come and see the fruit of my labor, then you can help me judge where best to spread all the rest."

"Oh Mr. Frodo, I have much to do," answered Sam, "and I am sure that your judgment is good and that you can spread all the straw of the pines in good taste."

With a knowing shrug, Frodo returned to the border and proceeded to spread the remaining bales in what seemed a logical manner. When done, he stood across the border to give full dimension to his accomplishments. Frodo took great pleasure in the visual betterment to the Shire.

The next day, when it was a bit warmer, Sam and Frodo strolled about the Shire so that Sam could also admire the results of an entire day's labor. When they approached the border, Sam placed hands on hips and growled to Frodo about the unsightly nature of one area undressed by straw of the pines. As he looked at it, Frodo thought to himself that Sam was, indeed, correct. That did not however, ease the consternation Frodo felt, for had Sam observed the situation the previous day when asked, Frodo would've been able to address the problem. It was irritating that Frodo had sought Sam's counsel, been rebuffed, and now would have to acquire even more straw of the pines.

Frodo was considering dropping a handful of straw of the pines into Sam's shorts.

The following day, which is the day before the day that waste products are magically transformed into transportation, Sam sought Frodo's assistance in preparing for the transformation. Frodo found that huge amounts of cat litter had been bound into plastic bags, contrary to his public position on the subject. Not anticipating that his directives had been disobeyed, Frodo soon found himself knee-deep in the onerous product which escaped its' confinement.

"You should be more careful Mr. Frodo," said Sam, "now you have to clean up that mess."

Frodo was considering dropping a handful of litter of the cat into Sam's shorts.

Smeagol's chicanery is overcome by the affection that Frodo feels for Sam. Issues are bound to arise however, even between those who fight their way up Mount Doom together.

Sam would be well-advised to wear tight-fitting underwear for the next several days.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:42 PM EST

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Saturday, March 25, 2006

The Words of The Prophets Are Written on The Subway Walls
Mood:

incredulous
Topic: "In a Galaxy Far Away(2)"
On March 19th, 2003, just over three years ago this week, the oldest member of the United States Senate spoke the words that follow. Frodo asks your indulgence, dear reader, to merely read and consider what was said. If ever you have been tempted to pass what is written in this space on to others, Frodo suggests that it be this one.

"Today, I weep for my country. I believe in this beautiful country. I have studied its' roots and gloried in the wisdom of its magnificent Constitution. I have marveled at the wisdom of its' founders and framers. Generation after generation of Americans has understood the lofty ideals that underlie our great Republic. I have been inspired by the story of their sacrifice and their strength. But, today I weep for my country.

I have watched the events of recent months with a heavy, heavy heart. No more is the image of America one of strong, yet benevolent peacekeeper. The image of America has changed . Around the globe, our friends mistrust us, our word is disputed, our intentions are questioned. Instead of reasoning with those with whom we disagree, we demand obedience or threaten recrimination. Instead of isolating Saddam Hussein, we seem to have isolated ourselves. We proclaim a new doctrine of preemption which is understood by few and feared by many. We say that the United States has the right to turn its' firepower on any corner of the globe which might be suspect in the war on terrorism. We assert that right without the sanction of any international body. As a result, the world has become a much more dangerous place.

We flaunt our superpower status with arrogance. We treat UN Security Council members like ingrates who offend our princely dignity by lifting their heads from the carpet. Valuable alliances are split. After war has ended, the United States will have to rebuild much more than the country of Iraq. We will have to rebuild America's image around the globe.

The case this Administration tries to make to justify its' fixation with war is tainted by charges of falsified documents and circumstantial evidence. We cannot convince the world of the necessity of this war for one simple reason. This is a war of choice.

There is no credible information to connect Saddam Hussein to 9/11. The twin towers fell because a world-wide terrorist group, Al Qaeda, with cells in over 60 nations, struck at our wealth and our influence by turning our own planes into missiles, one of which would likely have slammed into the dome of this beautiful Capitol except for the brave sacrifice of the passengers on board.

The brutality seen on September 11th and in other terrorist attacks we have witnessed around the globe are the violent and desperate efforts by extremists to stop the daily encroachment of western values upon their cultures. That is what we fight. It is a force not confined to borders. It is a shadowy entity with many faces, many names, and many addresses. But this Administration has directed all of the anger, fear, and grief which emerged from the ashes of the twin towers and the twisted metal of the Pentagon towards a tangible villain, one we can see and hate and attack. And villain he is. But, he is the wrong villain. And this is the wrong war.

If we attack Saddam Hussein, we will probably drive him from power. But, the zeal of our friends to assist our global war on terrorism may have already taken flight. The general unease surrounding this war is not just due to "orange alert." There is a pervasive sense of rush and risk and too many questions unanswered. How long will we be in Iraq? What will be the cost? What is the ultimate mission? How great is the danger at home?

A pall has fallen over the Senate Chamber. We avoid our solemn duty to debate the one topic on the minds of all Americans, even while scores of our sons and daughters faithfully do their duty in Iraq. What is happening to this country? When did we become a nation which ignores and berates our friends? When did we decide to risk undermining the international order by adopting a radical and doctrinaire approach to using our awesome military might? How can we abandon diplomatic efforts when the turmoil in the world cries out for diplomacy? Why can this President not seem to see that America's true power lies not in its' will to intimidate, but in its' ability to inspire?

War appears inevitable. But, I continue to hope that the cloud will lift. Perhaps Saddam will turn tail and run. Perhaps reason will somehow prevail. I along with millions of Americans will pray for the safety of our troops, for the innocent civilians in Iraq, and for the security of our homeland. May God continue to bless the United States of America in the troubled days ahead, and may we somehow recapture the vision which for the present eludes us."---Robert F. Byrd of West Virginia.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:39 AM EST

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Friday, March 24, 2006

I Want To Be In That Number
Mood:

celebratory
Topic: "Second Line (2)"
As a general rule, Frodo rarely takes note of the passing of a 97 year-old, 37-year veteran of the United States Postal Service. Narvin Kimball, who died last Friday at his daughter's home in Charleston, South Carolina, was a different, personal, story for Frodo.

Frodo and Sam spent many hours in the company of Mr. Kimball. When he began to croon "Georgia on My Mind," while fingering his banjo, angels danced on the floor of the Preservation Hall in the City of Orleans. Narvin Kimball's passing is that of the last original member of that famous Jazz Band.

Mr. Kimballs' first banjo was self-constructed from a cigar box, some string, and a stick. Some years later he made his first professional appearances on Mississippi riverboats, and he recorded with Columbia records for the first time in 1928. While walking his mail route, he first came up with the idea of his band, the Narvin Kimball Gentlemen of Jazz, playing at the Preservation Hall of New Orleans. The concept was bought and paid for by the Jaffe family of New Orleans, and the doors opened in 1961.

Narvin Kimball last played with the Preservation Hall Jazz Band in a 1999 PBS performance. Shortly thereafter he suffered a series of strokes that quieted the dancing banjo.

Narvin and his wife moved in with their daughter in Charleston after Hurricane Katrina. In a few days, Narvin Kimball will return to the City of Orleans. Big Jim Robinson, Billie and DeDe Pierce, Sweet Emma, and all the rest will welcome him home.

Dear reader, how long can we sing "Hold that Tiger, Hold that Tiger, Hold that Tiger..."? No Hobbit ever walked from that Hall without the the tingling solo of a banjo playing "Just a Closer Walk With Thee," echoing in the canyons of the mind. The people, the music, the smells, the heat, and the humidity, it was, indeed, a profound experience.

Frodo will "second line" down the hallway this evening, and Mick, the Wonder Dog, will think he's the strangest of Hobbits.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:59 PM EST

Updated: Friday, March 24, 2006 9:01 PM EST

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Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Deep River Woman, Lord I'm Coming Home to You
Mood:

party time!
Topic: "Magic Fridge (2)"
Kristiandsund is a western Norway town that must resemble Bethlehem. It was, for Haldis Gundersen, the scene of a miracle. It didn't do much for the rest of the town, however.

Ms. Gundersen routinely turned on the faucet in her kitchen last week, and found that the water she was expecting had turned into beer. Two flights down, the patrons at the Big Tower Bar were less than amused when their taps were subjected to the corrosive potential of pure tap water. Since beer sells for $3.75 per half-pint, the pique bordered on hysteria.

Reflecting, perhaps, the cavalier nature of the Norse, Ms. Gundersen complained that the beer tasted flat and was not very tempting. Frodo would have been unsurprised if one of the patrons had commented that the water lacked body, and that its' bouquet was somewhat reminiscent of West Texas.

Egil Myrvang, an employee of the local beer distributor, and somewhat of a closet Scientologist, theorized that the proximity of the pipes to one another may have tested the creative powers of one of his countrymen. Frodo, on the other hand, believes in the divinity of it all, and rejects any sort of evolutionary aspect to the incident. It was divine intervention at its best,
Ms. Gundersen was simply being rewarded for her good deeds in life.

On the other extreme, one has to wonder about the patrons as well as the employees of the Big Tower Bar. Perhaps the incident was a pre-emptive effort to bring judgment upon their conduct? Could it be that punishment would include divine Prohibition? Frodo has always believed that someone who didn't enjoy an occasional beer deserved to live in Topeka, or to sit through a thousand consecutive sermons by a representative of the United Methodist Church.

The next time Frodo is in Norway he just may give Haldis a call. She may be interested in hearing about Brer Fox. Frodo would certainly be interested in her plumbing.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:41 PM EST

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Tuesday, March 21, 2006

You Better Stop Swimmin' or You'll Sink Like a Stone
Mood:

bright
Topic: "Brer Fox (2)"
The Wren's Nest Museum in Atlanta saw 10,000 visitors last year. Located in the West End, the Queen Anne-style farmhouse was purchased by Joel Chandler Harris in 1883, and it was where he lived until his death in 1908. The native of Eatonton, Georgia, was an Editor of the ATLANTA CONSTITUTION, and the author of the "Uncle Remus Tales." The house became a museum in 1913, and was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1962. The privately-owned museum is managed by a not-for-profit association.

Until recently the Wren's Nest focused solely on African-American storytelling and preserving the life and legacy of Mr. Joel Chandler Harris. Dwindling visitors have forced management to expand the museum's scope as a central repository for the preservation of Southern folklore and for the renovated gardens surrounding the museum.

When Frodo was the smallest of Hobbits, the mother of Ted Sandyman, one of Frodo's closest playmates, was a substitute teacher. Every Hobbit from throughout the Shire knew Mrs. Sandyman and looked forward to the occasional day when their regular teacher was indisposed and Mrs. Sandyman stood in for the day. For after lunch was over, and before math studies were to begin, a quiet period was graced by Mrs. Sandyman reading from her golden volume of the "Tales of Uncle Remus."

A generation of Hobbits was entranced by her literal reading of the stories taken from the verbal Gullah of West Africans who had been forcibly brought into the Shire years before. How ironic it was that, in those days, there were no descendants of those West Africans in the schools of the Shire. For the Hobbits who were there it was the sing-songey and bouncey-bounce of "Brer Rabbit," and "Brer Bear," and how escapes through "de brier patch" ended when "de Tar Baby" say "nuttin'".

When Frodo spoke fondly of those days and those stories in the years that followed, he was pushed into many an argument about the propriety of verbiage and tonal inflection viewed as exclusionary in its' intent. Frodo was never embarrassed about his affection for the stories. Frodo believed, then and now, that re-telling the stories, just as they may first have been told is a tribute to the beauty of language and story.

Walt Disney produced an animated film during Frodo's youth which was entitled "Song of the South." Every Hobbit, everywhere, remembers

"Zip-a-dee-do-dah, Zip-a-dee-a, My oh my, what a wonderful day. Plenty of sunshine comin' my way, zip-a-dee-do-dah, Zip-a-dee-a."

Was it any wonder that Frodo envisioned the times of the story tellers as pleasant and, well, sing-songey? It was many years before Frodo understood the true significance of those stories, and how important it was, to all the Citizens of Middle Earth, that they be preserved.

Frodo has never been to the Wren's Nest. It is slightly off the beaten path, and time, ah precious time, pushes Frodo in other directions. He supposes that he will soon go and stroll among the revitalized azaleas and dogwoods. After walking through the museum, he will wander back into the garden and find a bench. Next to him will be "de Tar Baby." Perhaps they will speak of times past, and of Mrs. Sandyman.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:58 PM EST

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Sunday, March 19, 2006

I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends
Mood:

caffeinated
Topic: "Busman's Holiday(2)"
The first day of Spring (Tra-La) does more than raise the sap in Frodo, it signals the approaching deadline for his tax return. Frodo, as a matter of pride, has always prepared his own return, and he takes special pride in the fact that he has only been audited once. Frodo would like to believe that he impressed the minions of Sauron with his honesty and, presumably, with the fact that he represents such a miniscule potential return for the effort. There is, of course, much more to the story.

Frodo has a routine for his tax return. Divulging the routine, dear reader, is not what follows. Indeed, should Frodo's routine become general knowledge the probability is expanded that it would become of interest to the heirs of Elliot Ness. Let it be said that Frodo simply plays the odds.

For example, if you, dear reader, were an IRS guy and you were assigned two tax returns and required to pick one for examination, which of the following would you choose? The first is a Hobbit who works one job, lives in an apartment, and has no income other than what he gets from his employer. The second Hobbit is in business for himself, owns two homes, keeps a room in his residence for an office, receives investment income, and makes lots of contributions.

Obviously, the second Hobbit is more likely to make an error on his return, simply because it is more complicated than that of his fellow Hobbit. Frodo figures that IRS guys love complexity, and that is why they do everything in their power to suck Hobbits into their tangled web of exemptions, deductions, schedules, and credits. Frodo, therefore, does his utmost to keep things simple and uncomplicated.

Every tax return begins with what was apparently acceptable one year ago. If things remain relatively constant, no computer is going to get over-heated and spit out a "warning" to the Orc in charge of Audits. However, if a particular deduction, for example, triples in amount from one year to the next, even Frodo might want to ask you, dear reader, why? So Frodo manages his life for the sake of consistency, and he avoids the anxiety of sitting with a person who operates a calculator with three fingers of one hand, and thumbs through the Internal Revenue Code with the other hand for eight consecutive hours each and every workday.

Frodo also believes in insurance. Frodo offers lamb's blood to the statue of the IRS Commissioner which adorns the altar in his office. Frodo also sends in his Publisher's Clearing House Contest Form in the name of Mr. Mark Everson, Commissioner of the Internal Revenue (after all, if he leaves Frodo alone he might win Ten Million Dollars). As a final appeal to mercy, Frodo sends a box of donuts to 1111 Constitution Avenue, Washington, D.C., on April 16th of each year.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:59 PM EST

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Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Proud To Be An American
Mood:

lyrical
Topic: "Dick Clark Top 10(2)"
Two University of Wisconsin researchers have produced a list of the Top 10 Songs selected by Vietnam-Era Veterans. Dr. Craig Werner and Dr. Doug Bradley interviewed hundreds of Vietnam vets about the music that affected them then, and the music that remains with them now. Dr. Bradley told Frodo that the most astounding finding in the study was that talking about the music allowed many of the veterans to open up and discuss their experiences for the first time.

"Music connects us in ways that we cannot explain, but we feel," said Dr. Bradley. "It can be the same for people any place, anywhere, especially when they're under stressful situations. There's nothing more stressful than war, and there was nothing more disturbing than Vietnam." he added.

The songs, in order, are 1. "We Gotta Get Out of This Place," by The Animals; 2. "Chain of Fools," by Aretha Franklin; 3. "Fortunate Son," by Creedence Clearwater; 4. "The Dock of the Bay," by Otis Redding; 5. "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'," by Nancy Sinatra; 6. "The Fightin' Side of Me," by Merle Haggard; 7. "What's Goin' On?," by Marvin Gaye; 8. "Nowhere to Run," by Martha & the Vandellas; 9. "I Feel Like I'm Fixin' to Die Rag," by Country Joe and the Fish; and 10. "Purple Haze," by Jimi Hendrix.

"Dr. Werner," asked Frodo, "have you wondered what the same list would contain if the source were active participants in the Pre-Emptive War in Iraq?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Frodo, but our survey is inconclusive. Some of the favorites of these troops are "Run It," by Chris Brown; "Bumper of my SUV," by Chely Wright; "Breaking the Habit," by Linkin Park; and "Just Another Day," by John Mellencamp."

"I've heard of John Mellencamp."

"Well," said Dr. Werner, "imagine how Sean Hannity will feel when he finds out that Lee Greenwood wasn't mentioned at all, by anyone."

"Do you think that 50 Cent or Eminem will be invited to the tribute for Veterans at the next Republican Party Convention?," asked Frodo.

Neither researcher spoke. Frodo added, "You mention 50 Cent and Eminem to a Republican and they hand you a dollar bill, then stand there until you hand them back some candy and change."

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:56 PM EST

Updated: Wednesday, March 15, 2006 10:00 PM EST

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Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Song As Old As Time, Beauty And The Beast
Mood:

amorous
Topic: "Carolina Cougar(2)"
When Sam's father and step-mother could no longer maintain their own residence, and they were unable to care for the one creature that shared their every day existence, another waif found his way into the Shire. Mr. Beau Neau, re-named of course, is the largest domestic cat on record, and he is all white. He entered the Shire as Rocky, the Italian Stallion, was preparing for his last encounter with Apollo Creed. Mr. Beau Neau has assumed the mantle of House Champion, and he has adapted his territorial concerns from an all-interior existence to include the entire fenced backyard of the Shire.

The population of ground and underground creatures has been adversely affected by this territorial imperative. Given the size of the feline it is actually a good thing that there are no Thompson's Gazelles or Water Buffalo wandering into the Shire.

Most interesting is the avian contingent. There has been no indication of interest in the winged visitors to the Shire. Sydney, the cockatiel, who was a companion of Rocky, senses that Mr. Beau Neau is not worthy of his trust however, and keeps his distance beyond the vertical capacity of the feline passing through his flight patterns. Perhaps the visibility of the all-white cat is a factor in the judgment of the birds, and in the concomitant concerns of the cat himself. Why fight it if your adversaries know where you are at all times?

Mick, the Wonder Dog, is Master of all he surveys, but he is totally subject to the influence of a new and entertaining game with Frodo. After dinner, and once all light has departed the Shire, Frodo catches the eye of Mick, the Wonder Dog, and he utters the phrase "Let's Go Get the Kitty." Paws and toenails flash upon the slippery surface as the dog-door is thrown open to allow the exit of the intrepid hunter. The white cat is a visible target despite the darkness, and only the evasive maneuvering envied by fighter pilots around the world allows Mr. Beau Neau to choose a route back through the dog-door which leaves him free from the slobbering of a guided canine missile.

Mick, the Wonder Dog, ends the game with the contented laugh and smile which graces the countenance of a world-class athlete savoring victory.

There is a tolerance between ageless combatants who each recognize that the Shire is their home, and that it is to be shared. Frodo is reminded of the poem "The Creation," which found its' way into every public-speaking exercise ever presented by pre-matriculates. How many times, he thought, does God say "That's Good"? One would think that Frodo would have counted the phrase in at least one such competition. Counting blessings is an activity that quiet nights and venerable companions bring to mind in the Shire.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:31 PM EST

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Monday, March 13, 2006

When I Think About All The Crap I Learned in High School
Mood:

quizzical
Frodo takes special note of the overseas exploits of a hardy band of Congressional Minutemen who stood up to defend American business interests. Senators Johnny Isakson and Saxby Chambliss were joined by Congressmen John Linder and Phil Gingrey, all Republicans from Georgia, to swoop en masse into Dubai, United Arab Emirates. This august group of freedom-fighters was determined to exhibit the true colors of the American button-downers.

Briefly, Frodo examines the record of these advocates for "truth, justice, and the American Way."

Senator Saxby "Rubber Stamp" Chambliss was denied the opportunity to serve his country by the "bad knee" which prevented his Vietnam-Era Service as a fighting man. He unseated Veteran triple amputee Senator Max Cleland by depicting him as being in cahoots with Osama bin Laden. Since then he has done everything but give George W. Bush ten minutes to draw a crowd before he kisses both cheeks of his butt. His hometown is something called Moultrie.

Congressman Phil Gingrey is an surgeon who also has no record of Overseas service in behalf of his country. Gingrey publicly supported the preservation of the Cross of St. Andrew on the Georgia State Flag. Recognizing that the Confederate Battle Flag emblem was hurtful to both the ability of the State to attract business, and to those of his fellow citizens who felt the symbolism to be offensive, was offset by "this is what my constituents want." Frodo is glad that his constituents did not want to eat their young, because "Whichever Way the Wind Blows" Gingrey would've been all for it.

Congressman John Linder is one of the richest men in the House of Representatives. He made his money as a loan shark, while his peers were marching through jungles in Southeast Asia. Linder is the author, along with "Nutcase Neil" Boortz, on the "Fair Tax" best-seller which would lessen both their Federal Tax liabilities significantly while increasing the burden on the poor and unwashed. Had Linder been borne two thousand years earlier, he would've been one of those whom Jesus cast from the Temple.

John Isakson was selling real estate when the My Lai massacre took place in Vietnam. Frodo thinks that Isakson does try hard to do a good job, but in order to win, he has had to give homage to the most offensive aspects of the Republican Party. Isakson said that "this issue that came up was a firestorm more out of the ignorance of all the facts than anything else." Frodo points out that Senator Isakson must think that more than 70% of the American people share that ignorance. Isakson should eat some of the dirt he's been selling, says Frodo.

One of the "leading English-language" newspapers in Dubai editorialized that the United States was guilty of both racism and the use of double standards in its' business dealings with Arab nations. The deal, as we all know, is now dead. Perhaps that is why George W. decided that these four clowns from Georgia would best represent the level of thought put into the issue in the first place. They were proud to serve, just as long as nobody was shooting at them.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:00 PM EST

Updated: Monday, March 13, 2006 9:01 PM EST

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Thursday, March 9, 2006

Lean On Me When Times Are Bad
Mood:

down
Topic: "Veto Shmetoe (2)"
"Harumph, Fellow Senators," began the politico with the pompadour, "It is my distinct privilege to announce that our grand ally the United Arab Emirates is renouncing any further involvement in transactions to protect America's ports." So stated, John Warner has pulled George Bush's nuts out of the fire.

Frodo has always found the military megalith from Virginia to be worth a stereotype or two. In the parlance of young people, he is basically a "Valley Girl." Frodo's favorite story about John Warner of the Senate goes back to a tiny community on the south-side of Virginia. It seems that a local attorney, a Republican no less, had been nominated to be the new US Attorney for the Western District of Virginia. John Warner, at the time, was either the eleventh or the twelfth husband of formerly svelte actress Elizabeth Taylor.

Warner was designated to go to this rural community and to "swear in" the new US Attorney. When Warner arrived in the VFW Hall, or the High School Gym, or the Methodist Church, or wherever the ceremony was to be held, he was staggered by the turnout. Literally the entire town, and the neighboring three counties, were all in attendance.

Warner was almost moved to tears. Speaking with ceremonial respect for the local boy made good, he went on at great length about the level of respect the community must have for this dedicated attorney.

Dear reader, one can only imagine the dribble. After twenty minutes or so, the mechanics, and the farmers, the factory workers, the nurses, and the teachers who crowded the space were getting edgy. Finally, one man could stand it no longer and he rose from his chair, pointed at Warner, and yelled, "Whar's Liz?"

When Liz was found not to be in attendance, everyone began to file quietly out of the building.

Liz divorced Warner about six weeks later.

Smart lady.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 7:55 PM EST

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