Mood:  lyrical

Frodo knows the very day, and the very moment, when he transitioned from "young" to "middle age."  Today he is joined by a generation.  The bad news for Frodo is that he now seems to be one step ahead of al those whose youth ended with the death of the "King of Pop."

Michael Jackson did not make records, he made videos.  He took the art form of the twentieth century one step further than his predecessors, and he choreographed character and movement.  Two generations earlier Gene Kelly sang "Singin' in the Rain," while his primary competitor, Fred Astaire, twirled Ginger in a top hat.  A quarter-century later it was Elvis Presley grinding his hips while Pat Boone made April love (and Frodo choke).  The evolution of the truly American art form in this simple paragraph says volumes about the days after World War II, and those which preceded the fall of Saigon.  It goes without saying that technological change chronicles the end of the creativeness of Michael Jackson, as it also did for "The King of Rock and Roll."

Frodo probably has "Thriller" on a Beta videotape, somewhere in his basement.

Frodo does not intend to praise Michael Jackson, he will only watch as he is buried.  The good, as well as the evil, that men do lives after them, but it will be the music that survives.  Frodo can only judge the art, and it was magnificent.

Exit, moonwalk, stage left.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:50 PM EDT

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Mood:  irritated

What, asked Frodo, do Republican Senators Craig, Ensign, Vitter and South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford share?  The answer, with all speculation cast aside, is that each is still in office.

Does the name "Happy Rockefeller" mean anything to you, asked the irritated Hobbit?  The answer is that she was the divorcee who married Senator Nelson Rockefeller (R-NY) and became the symbol for the most conservative wings of the Republican Party to use in denying support to Rockefeller for the Presidential nomination in 1964.  The eventual nominee, Barry Goldwater, was obliterated in the General Election, but at least the GOP stood upon the "sanctity of marriage" as a principle for candidacy.  That sort of changed when Ronald Reagan, formerly the spouse of Jane Wyman, happened upon the scene.  The principle, it seemed, did not apply in quite the same perspective, given the Post-Bicentennial aspects of American social life.

Many more instances of social misbehavior have come to light in the days that follow.  Gary Hart, John Edwards, John Jenrette, Wilbur Mills, Mark Foley, Bill Clinton, Eliot Spitzer, Newt Gingrich, Bob Barr, and a plethora of violations associated with the Ten Commandments and other teachings found in the Judeo-Christian logbooks manned by St. Peter, and his associate, Sgt. Frodo, abound in American History.

What distinguishes all of these abusers from the current listing is that they no longer serve in public office.  This, dear reader, brings us to the point of Frodo's irritation.  The admitted adulterers, and sexual deviants who remain in office, accepting public funds, are all of the same Party that 45 years ago would not tolerate a political nominee married to a divorcee.

Strange, is it not, that the Family Research Council, and other values-oriented evangelical organizations, remain without a public demand that these admitted miscreants immediately step aside from public office.

Frodo knows that on the morrow he will hear the wimpy buddy of Mark Sanford, Joe Scarborough, go on his TV show and use words like "tragedy," "sorrow," "troubled," to describe the bizarre actions of his former associate in the US House of Representatives.

The next sound you will hear is Frodo gagging.  Frodo wishes that some things about life did not change, like principle.  He may not agree with it, but he has always admired those who stand behind it.  Let's see how far Mr. Scarborough goes, and how many times he tries to plug his book.   

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:57 PM EDT

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Mood:  suave

"Is there a problem, Officer?"

"Driver's License, Proof of Insurance, and Registration, Please."

"I didn't think I was speeding."

"Son, this here's Georgia, and driving with a broken tail light may not cause you any problems in South Carolina, but it does here."

"A broken tail light?"

"Have you had anything to drink this evening?"

"No Sir."

"Would you mind if I searched that big, old SUV you're driving?"

"Well, not really, but why?"

"Well Sir, it's not every night I pull over an official vehicle from the State of South Carolina driving  with a broken tail light well after normal business hours.  Just who are you, Mr., uh, Sanborn is it, and what business brings you into Georgia this time of night?"

"I'm the Governor."

"Governor, of what?"

"South Carolina."

"Well, ain't that just somethin' special?"

"Pardon?"

"Are ya on yer way to visit with yer pal Sonny?"

"Who?"

"The Governor."

"Governor, of what?"

"Georgia."

"Oh, is that his name?  Sonny, you say."

"Don't get smart with me, boy."

"Oh, not at all.  I meant no offense."

"You ain't answered my question."

"What question?"

"What are yo doin' this time of night in a government vehicle traveling in the wrong direction to be goin' home for the evening?"

"I'm taking a little personal time to relax."

"Out of the car, boy."

"We're goin' to see how straight a line you can walk."

"Officer, I don't think that is necessary."

"Well, let's jes see if you can blow up this balloon?"

"I respectfully decline to take a breathalyzer."

"I didn't say nothin' 'bout no breathalyzer.  Sounds to me like you been thru this before."

"Well, uh, I guess I just watch too many police shows on TV." 

"One more time before I call for backup, and bring you up before a judge in the morning.  What are ya doin' out here this time a' night?"

"I'm on my way to visit a lady friend."

"Okay, now we're gettin' somewhere.  Now who might this lady be, and how come you're spendin' time with her here jes before Father's Day?"

"Her name is Betty Ford."

"Well damn boy, you think I didn't know that.  A man would have to be a drunk to try and turn down three quarters of a billion dollars to improve the worst public school system in America.  Now what's that in your ashtray?" 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:59 PM EDT

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Mood:  bright

Lake Lovey came into existence about forty years ago.  The partners who developed the land were a builder, who constructed the first dwellings, and a minister, who owned the land.  Among the first to buy land and build homes, some vacation and some permanent, were fellow clergymen and lay leaders of the dominant religious group in the area.  For many years, people in the general area referred to them as the "Methodist Mafia."  As time passed, a generational shift took place and an increasing number of younger, and more affluent, residents came into the area for a number of specific reasons.  With them came something new, i.e. demands for better service and amenities.  Remaining however, were people who were older, often on fixed incomes, who saw no reason for changing anything, and were certainly not eager to experience increases in taxes, fees, amd dues.

The purpose of the preceding paragraph is to draw the lines of analogy for what, Frodo hopes, will be the last of his political lectures for a period of respite. 

Iran is a great deal like Lake Lovey.  Despite the demand for high-speed internet, the local telephone company is years away from offering anything other than dial-up service.  The alternative satellite service is inconsistent due to the presence of clouds, birds, or swamp gas.  Cable service is merely a rumor. 

Security used to be the province of a retired farmer who got the benefit of a cost-free rental house and Social Security coverage.  In return, he was to patrol the road around the lake twice per day, and to man the front gate during other hours on duty.   Complications arose when he started to carry a gun, and to singlehandedly reduce the population of every crawling creature, without the benefit of species identification prior to execution.

Potholes developed all around the gravel roads, so loans were taken in order to pave the way for the influx of SUV's, Jaguars, golf carts, and other vehicles which supplanted the "Ford Tough" prersence of the Appalachian environment.

In the middle of all of this were the religious leaders, who saw themselves as above the fray, and ill-prepared to deal with the coming storms.

In 1979 the Iranian Revolution destroyed the last vestiges of the Shah's rule.  The government that replaced it was not a reformist group, it was a religiously devout assemblage who attracted support from those who wanted things like they used to be, for about two thousand years.  That government, if not that political perspective, is what dominates Iran in its' rural components, among the religiously conservative, the older generation, and those who do not trust those who supported the evil Shah.  On the other side are the younger, more technologically-savvy, educationally-developed, urbanites, who most feel the incompetence of the current government and its economic policies.  The more moderate, and wealthier, clerics, unseated by the current leader, are also in this group.

If, dear reader, you were a media representative, sent to Iran in order to gauge the feelings of the people, and to forecast political events, what problems do you think you might face?  What might prevent you from getting a true snapshot of these history-making days?

Well, as Frodo would say, since you don't speak Farsi, it is apparent that you will get more input from those who speak English than from those who do not.  Since telephone service is almost non-existent outside the major cities, you will get no opinions from those in rural areas.  Since you represent a nation which provided support to the Shah, and who elected a moron like George W. Bush, doesn't it seem likely that some might be hesitant to even be seen with you?  Finally, since all of the media access to the country is held by those who are young enough to understand that the internet is not "made up out of tubes," doesn't that mean all of that input will be skewed to what that group thinks is important? 

Why, then, are we surprised at the election results?  Our polling, our "scientific" analysis of the electorate was abominable.  It is just as it was beginning in 2002 when we began to learn the difference between Sunnis and Shiites.  We failed to understand that the enlightened elite that we seemed to see behind every corner was actually, although growing steadily, nowhere near the numbers that our media magnificence portrayed. 

Frodo believes that the current regime probably did garner the most votes.  That may not mean that everyone will accept the result, and continue as good little boy and girl citizens of Iran, but it does mean that the political leader gained strength, and it came at the expense of the religious institutional leaders who opposed him.  It also means that the crowds we now see in the streets of Teheran may not reflect who actually holds the strings that make the puppets dance.

That is what worries Frodo, a lot.   

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:27 PM EDT

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Mood:  don't ask

One of Frodo's rules of life is that beauty follows beauty.  It is long-established that a well-turned ankle, or a heart-shaped derriere, have rotated his head as if on a swivel, and often re-directed his path.  What he means however, is that kind and caring people reap as they sow.  Good people are everywhere, as difficult as the art of politics may sometimes make that seem.  It is that counterpoint which today fries his chops, and makes him call a spade a spade.

Rusty DePass looks like he just sucked a lemon dry.  This balding simpleton from South Carolina is almost as attractive as vomit on the carpeting of a new motorcar, and he certainly pollutes the environment in similar fashion.  This old man does not have enough money to attract even the most desperate of those who sell sexual favors.  It is highly unlikely that any of man's best canine friends would remove themselves from an animal shelter in order to accompany him home.  No self-respecting member of the Jehovah's Witnesses will even knock on his door.  It is probably also true that should he ever fall into a commode, every passerby would fail to recognize him and push the handle.

Rusty DePass is an ugly, ugly man.  All value judgments aside, Frodo insists, this is simply a repulsive looking man.

So why would such a grotesque beast refer to the First Lady of the United States as if she, or a member of her family, were a gorilla who escaped from a cage in a nearby zoo?

Is it because he is an operative of the South Carolina Republican Party?

Or is it because the worst of us deny beauty, because we never experienced it?  That, dear reader, is the price we pay for freedom.  We allow people, ugly in-and-out, to speak as if they had a brain, including Rusty DePass, an Orc.     

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:38 PM EDT

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Mood:  lucky

Fiona injured a leg several years ago.  Veterinarians at the time told Frodo and Sam that surgery, with a six-month rehabilitation, would be recommended.  Mick, the Wonder Dog, has three or four fatty masses on his chest and abdominal areas, but absent any other problems, surgery has not been required.  Frodo's canine companions are both now in their twelfth year, and Frodo would be less than honest to say he knows not that time grows more precious, and adventures more memorable.  Fiona often limps noticeably on their walks, so Frodo permits unplanned halts to sniff a weed which is diplomatically placed where a brief respite becomes the prerogative of her ladyship.  Mick, the Wonder Dog, often appears confused, or winded, when a long stretch up hill requires that he simply stop and look at Frodo, questioning the necessity of further progress in that specific direction.

In the deep woods below Lake Lovey, the deciduous hardwoods suddenly give way to the darkness surrounding the creeks that flow endlessly across path and trail.  Hemlocks have grown in these "hollers" ever since the last episodic clear-cutting in the earliest days of the century past.  These evergreens become massive in girth, as opposed to their spindly pine cousins, and the forest bed feels no exposure to the sun regardless of the season or the hour.  It is a place where silence is rarely broken, even by birds. 

Fiona sees the creeks herein as private property, and a recognition of the reality of the existence of a fountain which restores youth.  In "Fiona Creek," the pains are erased and the necessity of a sprint through spray until the tongue hangs so long that it presents a peril to a wayward paw-step.  Once clear of the creek, Fiona sprints uphill, hither and yon, stopping only to look back at her brother and Frodo, who marvel at her rebirth.  Her relatively small size allows her to scamper under and around nearly every obstacle, and given the storms that befell the area over the past months, fallen trees are everywhere.

Many of the fallen trees are hemlocks.  Frodo has been observing the area for many months, given the threats of nature spreading among that population in the Southern Appalachians.  The fall of so many of these deep wooded giants has opened the forest floor to the sunlight, absent for a century or so, and offering another changing environment for Frodo's analysis and Fiona's amusement.

Mick, the Wonder Dog, is too big to crawl under a fallen tree-trunk, and an obstructed or complicated detour gives him undue consternation.  Frodo often stops and lifts his companion, absent the glare of Fiona, so that he may proceed in his own dignified exploration of the flattened trail that glides away beneath his canter.

The sunlight that enters this place of darkness does not pass unnoticed by any of the triumvirate.  Fiona saunters into the sunlight, and gazes toward heaven, as if a puppy angel waves a tail in her direction.  Mick, the Wonder Dog, senses aromas new to the area, and wanders fearlessly in nasal pursuit of something truly wonderful, or positively gross.

Frodo thinks of Socrates.  Sitting upon a dry embankment above a creek, he observes his comrades at play, and he thinks of the poison that befell one of the greatest of minds.  That which is found here has seemingly always been here, although, not unlike the tide, it has ebbs and flows which change in measurements of time far beyond that of an hour or a season.  

Perhaps Fiona is correct; there is a fountain of youth in these dark woods.  At least on this day it was so.

Three friends emerged from the darkness, and limped toward home.      

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:58 PM EDT

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Mood:  lazy

Joe Rakowski and Frodo worked together a long time ago.  Joe worked very hard and he never failed to do as Frodo asked, but Frodo could be assured that Joe would never go beyond his assignment.  Joe did not have a creative bone in his body, but Frodo loved and admired Joe Rakowski.  It was a sad day for Frodo when he hugged his old friend good-bye in the City of Brotherly Love.  They must have been a sight to see, a Hobbit and a lanky old Polock Marine, but they didn't care, then or now.

Joe and Frodo exchanged Christmas Cards for several years, and when they suddenly stopped arriving, Frodo called his old friend, only to realize the ravages of memory loss do not spare American heroes.  Frodo does not know if his old friend still walks the streets of Philadelphia, but he hopes so, because he deserves time with sons and grandsons.

Joe landed on the Island of Pelelieu with a whole bunch of other US Marines, and they weren't exactly greeted with candy and flowers by the Japanese soldiers who defended the sands of another spot in time where the battle truly wasn't necessary.  That did not detract from the ferocity of the struggle.

Forty years later Joe would tell Frodo, over a traveler's brew, that he had discovered the skinned corpses of two of his buddies, hanging upside down at the mouth of a cave still occupied by the enemy.  In words mild over time, but filled with the determination of a man trained to fight, Joe told Frodo what he did, and Frodo was neither shocked nor shaken.  Frodo will go no further with this story, it was shared in confidence, and in confidence it stays.  The imagination offers sufficient clarity.

All of this comes to Frodo's mind this eve because an island nation, not far from Pelelieu, announced that it was accepting the 17 Chinese Uighurs (pron. wee-gurs) soon to be transferred from the disgrace known as Guantanamo.  Frodo was unaware that the residents of Palau do not recognize the Beijing Regime as the legitimate government of China, rather they believe the legitimate authority rests on Taiwan.  The Chinese, Beijing-style, don't think much of the people of Palau, and are even less pleased now that the Uighurs, whom they consider to be terrorists, are being transferred rather than returned to their soil.

(For those slightly confused by all of this, the Uighurs are Sunni Muslims who live in the far western reaches of the People's Republic.  These 17 were in or around al Qaeda training facilities when captured by coalition forces, almost 8 years ago, just this side of the Chinese border.  The Uighurs care less about the US of A, but they do hate the Beijing Regime, and they have never waivered from their admissions of attendance at the al Qaeda facilities in order to better fight the repressive Beijing Regime.  The conundrum arose that nobody knew what to do with them, since returning them to China would've been an obvious death sentence.  So we kept them in Guantanamo, no charges, no trial, for almost 8 years).

What confuses Frodo is that it has also been announced that 4 Uighurs are being transferred to, of all places, Bermuda.  Now Frodo is not sure if this is 4 of the 17, or if there are actually 21 Uighurs, and these guys just haven't been part of the head count.  In any event, these guys get to go to one of Frodo's favorite spots in all the world, and it is certainly a far cry from Guantanamo, or Palau. 

Frodo does not have the slightest idea if the Uighurs will ever, again, be free men.  It is probable that Frodo will never cast his eyes upon any of these men, be they 17 or 21.  He feels a kinship however, in much the same way he feels about Joe Rakowski.  Indescribable suffering is best resolved by walking with your grandchildren, or finding someone to spread suntan lotion on your back.   

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:55 PM EDT

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Mood:  sharp

Frodo has come to believe that everything Barack Obama does is part and parcel of some greater plan.  For example, an apparently seminal speech is supported by subsequent historical references to a time when the civilized nations of the world acted together to combat a threat to their collective well-being.  In so doing, he will seek direct or indirect input from those whose support he must have to implement his plans.  His public pronouncements reflect the consensus achieved, and it allows him to specify, in public, policy determination.

President Obama and Prime Minister Netanyahu had frank conversations in the White House just a few weeks ago.  So when the President visited King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia, then proceded on to his speech in Cairo, without visiting Israel, unlike every other President before, there appeared to be a message therein.  From Cairo however, President Obama traveled to Germany, visiting Buchenwald, and demonstrated that even the Germans recognized the crimes committed in the past century, and that they, too, were behind his efforts to build a constructive future.  But even more importantly was the discussion beforehand and the speeches on Omaha Beach by President Obama and President Sarkozy.  It was clear that they had formed a partnership, directed at Iran, to marginalize Iran's current public leadership, and to give comfort to his political opposition, building even on the German recognition of the Holocaust.  France would use its influence to reduce the impending nuclear threat represented by the Iranians and Israel was given every reason to believe that the United States had been, is, and will always be Israel's closest ally.     

At the same time, Brian Harper of Canada, whose government had rejected the Obama Administration effort to relocate 17 Chinese Uighurs from Guantanamo to Canada just a few days ago, was reminded of Canada's D-Day participation in 1944, "even when they had not been attacked."

Now Special Ambassador George Mitchell and Secretary of State Clinton pick up the Mid-East ball, and chart the plays down the field.  They understand the rules.  Meanwhile, President Obama comes home, and goes to work on Health Care Reform, a mere week after sending a formal letter to Senators Baucus and Kennedy detailing his game-plan for that assault on the status quo.

Frodo is reminded of the chess matches he sees being played in city parks around the world.  Often, there is one guy, jumping from one table to another, perhaps playing a dozen or more games simultaneously.  Frodo has never seen one of those guys lose a single match to their sedentary opponents, including Frodo. 

Frodo also bets that Netanyahu, despite winning recent elections on the premise of Israeli expansion on the West Bank, has already tasted Obama's disfavor on that point, and is now shuddering under the Obama onslaught to bypass Netanyahu and to speak, in his own way, to the Israeli people.  That great middle ground in Israel, more impressed by Obama than Netanyahu, are listening.  "Bibby" knows that, and now he has to do some real political work, amongst his supporters.

Sarkozy knows this too, and Frodo bets that Brian Harper better tune in quick.  Obama will visit him again in the near future, but first he spends some time with Dick Lugar, Charles Grassley, Olympia Snowe, and the Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare. 

Frodo chooses not to further project into the future.  Such a projection was the mistake he made when that guy put him in check after fewer than 50 moves.  Everything he did was planned out once Frodo moved his first pawn. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:41 PM EDT

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Mood:  special

Jim Norene of Heppner, Oregon, a veterinarian who retired after 43 years of service to creatures with names like Fiona, or Rocky, or maybe even "Bo," passed away on Friday night.  He was married to Corabelle "Cork" Nutting, of Choctaw/Cherokee descent, and they had one daughter, Tracie, whose husband runs the NAPA store in Heppner.  Jim was a proud veteran of the 502nd Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division, which, appropriately, earned him the divisional moniker of the "Screaming Eagles."

On or about the 6th day of June, 1944, Jim parachuted into the town of Son, in Holland.  Being of Dutch ancestry, it was probably appropriate that he be part of the effort to free his ancestral home from the Nazis.

Not much more was available on the Internet this evening, despite Frodo's efforts to give you, dear reader, something to justify your attention for just a few moments.  Nearly everything else available this evening was a reiteration of President Barack Obama's eulogy of the D-Day Veteran who had returned for the celebration of the 65th anniversary, visited graves in the American Cemetery on Friday, but who was called to higher duty in his sleep.

Frodo is sure that we will learn more about this man in days to come.  A veterinarian, of Dutch descent, who jumped out of an airplane 65 years ago, in order to help bring freedom back to the land of his ancestors.  Although Frodo never had the honor of meeting this gentle man (spacing assumed appropriate), he is hereby installed into the Fellowship of the Ring. 

He had to be a Hobbit.     

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:00 PM EDT

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Mood:  spacey

Imagine, dear reader, entering a burial chamber in the Great Pyramid of Giza, and how it must feel.  Created thousands of years ago without the benefit of any technology or mechanism beyond that of levers and wheels, as best we know.  To climb toward the epicenter of ancient civilization knowing that countless generations separate that which is now the past, and that you are one of the privileged few to actually walk inside.  It has long been Frodo's dream to do what President Barack Obama did today.

It was not however, Frodo's expectation that anyone would enter, especially the President, and observe a carving on an interior wall which would cause him to remark "that looks like me."  What is even more bizarre is the fact that he was correct, it did look like him.

Frodo is proud to be the first to attest that the carving was placed there by space aliens thousands of years ago.  Predicting that a "skinny kid, with big ears" would someday enter the structure they created as a beacon for return visitations, the space aliens etched his likeness in the inner sanctum reserved for a High Priest.  The question on everyone's mind, Frodo is sure, is what exactly were the space aliens trying to tell President Obama?

Countless hours of research have now provided mankind with the answer, and Frodo has been given the responsibility to make the information available to inquiring minds all over the small, blue planet.  The message is simple enough, and priceless.  The space aliens foretold the fact that President Obama would enter the Valley of Kings on the same day that the Atlanta Braves released Tom Glavine.

Hey, that's important, too! 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:55 PM EDT

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