Frodo, Keeper of the Ring

Saturday, February 17, 2007

There's Something in The Air Tonight
Mood:

energetic
Although spared his predicted snowfall, the Shire is bitterly cold as Frodo, Fiona, and Mick, the Wonder Dog, engage in their traditional soccer match on Saturday morning. It is one of those frozen moments, soundless, with no movement except for the red-shouldered hawk circling, silently. Grey skies overhead however do not sit for Frodo's mood, for yesterday was the day, that which offers hope and optimism; thoughts of blue skies and puffy summer clouds. Pitchers and catchers reported for Spring training. The gallant Braves begin their quest for the return to greatness.

On countless days such as this Frodo and Strider, or Frodo and Faramir, or Frodo and anyone who could catch-and-return, would gently lob the first Rawlings product of the coming season. The energy encapsulated by frozen ground would burst the rugged seams of adolesence, which could not be controlled by any gymnasium. To chase the ball at breakneck speed, with a blur of green beneath his feet, is a true life scenario captured first in print by McCammon in his definitive book, "A Boy's Life." To run fast enough that soon the land would separate from the churning limbs and Frodo would soar, higher and higher, into that which separates heaven from earth. To return only when the ball lands softly in the webbing, and the throw must be returned.

Mick, the Wonder Dog, now breathes puffs of vapor as he returns a tennis ball to the hand of his best friend. Eagerly, he anticipates another sprint to that canine land which separates reality from dreams. Frodo knows that ancient athletes are limited by the cold, and that the limp or soreness which begins this day may last for many weeks. That applies especially to Hobbits and Wonder Dogs.

There is however, a sudden sound not unlike that of bat meeting ball, and Frodo wonders if Chipper Jones may have just laced a line-drive through a drawn-in infield? Mick, the Wonder Dog, assumes it to be a rabbit rising from the brush.

A limb falls from an old pecan tree, and Fiona leads the way home. The once-athletes trudge, sullenly, to tasks requiring their attention, but not their dreams.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 11:35 AM EST

Updated: Monday, February 19, 2007 8:58 PM EST

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Thursday, February 15, 2007

And Massachusetts is One Place I Have Seen
Mood:

cool
Topic: "Harry" (2)
He was just a little guy, not much bigger than a Hobbit. He was dark-complexioned, and his slicked-down dark hair was thinning as Frodo now remembers; it was not a distraction at the time. He was, as he indicated, Armenian by birth, and Frodo is ashamed to admit, even today, that actually pointing to Armenia on a map would be a formidable task. For a teenager, it was safe to assume that Armenia was not far from either Greece or Turkey, and Frodo knew where both of those were located. Conclusions such as that were close enough for Frodo, regardless of the subject matter.

Mr. Maranian taught History, doing so in a global context, and often interspersed with an emphasis on particular periods of civilizing peoples in the western world. Looking back, Frodo is disappointed that Mr. Maranian did not spend greater energy explaining the evolution of Middle Earth. It certainly would've made Frodo's writings considerably more intelligible today. His enthusiasm however made Reformations, Renaissances, and Revolutions cast an appearance of relevance which is difficult to even explain to the foundling MBA's currently searching for early wealth and hasty leisure.

He had sacrificed much in order to teach. His convictions were heartfelt, supported sometimes more by the heart than by logic, but Frodo felt the same way, so he came to revere the little man with the flashing eyes and the quick pace across the classroom stage. Harry Maranian was a mighty man and he was not afraid to speak his mind.

Frodo ran for class office one time. His opponent was daunting; intelligent, popular, involved in lots of activities, and he was dating little Janet Perry. Campaigning basically consisted of a limited number of posters and a speech, given in front of all the more than 350 members of the Junior Class. Frodo was given little chance to win, even by Frodo.

Frodo spoke forthrightly, perhaps with a word-by-word emphasis that might have been considered Kennedyesque, for those were the days of Camelot. Frodo drew rounds of applause, and smiles all around as he returned to his seat. Even little Janet Perry smiled at Frodo.

When they returned to the classroom, Frodo and his opponent happened to have the same period class in American History, Mr. Maranian walked in, looked at Frodo and yelled "Vote for Frodo." Frodo flushed, and felt badly for his opponent, but Mr. Maranian was not to be denied. "You stood up, you gave it your best shot, you had good and realistic goals, and it was a darn good speech. Vote for Frodo."

That evening Frodo's good friend, the current Class President, and the guy who had encouraged Frodo to run in the first place, Strider, came by Frodo's home to tell him that he had lost the election. Strider assured Frodo that the count had been very close.

Frodo congratulated his opponent, and waived away the hurt when little Janet Perry made a point of telling Frodo that she had cast her ballot for him. That battle fell to Frodo, and provided him with much greater satisfaction than a term of service and another photo in the yearbook. Harry Maranian would use that challenge many times to Frodo however, telling him that he could always accomplish something if he simply tried as hard as he had in that election.

A few years ago, Frodo learned before his class assembled one more time, that Harry Maranian was dead. It grieved him greatly that he knew nothing about when or how, or that he had never found the opportunity to say "Thank you, Harry." As the group sat in the bar and discoursed over the recalled events of those days, it was Strider who spoke and softly asked, "Do you think he was gay?" Frodo sucked air, for he had never had such a thought, and quite frankly did not, and does not, care.

Frodo only hopes that Mr. Maranian is still proud of Frodo.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:45 PM EST

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Tuesday, February 13, 2007

When You Were Young And Your Heart Was an Open Book
Mood:

cheeky
Topic: "Korea, Korea" (2)
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the White House Press Corps," began the 'Snowman,'"the Secretary of State."

"Thank you Tony, before I take any of your questions, I'd like to announce a major breakthrough in multi-party negotiations with North Korea."

Frodo rolled his eyes at Helen Thomas.

"The Peoples Republic has announced that it will begin to dismember its' nuclear reactor and to totally eliminate all efforts to constitute nuclear weaponry."

Andrea Mitchell's wig nearly fell into Frodo's lap.

"This diplomatic initiative, certainly among the most significant accomplishments of the current administration," and Rice paused long enough for Frodo to whisper to David Schuster, "She means the only," loud enough for the microphones to pick up his words. Slightly flustered, Secretary Rice concluded her comments "is a major step toward ensuring peaceful disarmament in the region."

"Ms. Secretary?"

"Yes, Mr. Frodo," she said as she glared at her adversary and intellectual superior,"what is your question?"

"Madame Secretary, that is certainly a significant public promise, but what exactly do the North Koreans get in exchange?"

"Well, Mr. Frodo, in exchange for 50,000 gallons of oil, and a lifting of any embargo at their main port-of-entry, there were only a few concessions to further the ability of North Korea to care for its' starving people. Now are there any more. . ."

"Excuse me Madame Secretary," said the wary Frodo, "but what sort of concessions EXACTLY?"

Rice's eyes zeroed in on Frodo as if he were a mongoose circling the disturbed cobra. "Well, MR. Frodo, the United States has agreed to provide the North Koreans with certain agricultural supplements. . ."

"What? Like chemicals?"

"No, Mr. Frodo, if you'd let me finish my sentence?"

A chagrined Frodo clammed up long enough for the gargoyle-like stance of the Secretary to swing back to the microphone.

"The United States will provide North Korea with non-chemical additions to their agricultural development program."

"Madame Secretary, just one more follow-up, and I promise to let you move on to the questions sure to emanate from Mr Chris Wallace of Faux News." Frodo smiled at the smirking little weasel.

"Proceed, Mr. Frodo."

"Madame Secretary, I was raised on a farm in the Shire, and for the benefit of others like me, I'm curious as to the nature of these agricultural 'additions,' you mentioned? Can you tell us what exactly we are giving to North Korea?"

"Nebraska."

"I beg your pardon, did you say Nebraska?"

"I believe that was your last question Mr. Frodo," grinned the Vampire, "and I believe Mr. Wallace has a question."

"Yes Madame Secretary I do. Could you tell us where you got those lovely shoes?"

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:10 PM EST

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Sunday, February 11, 2007

Nobody Gets Too Much Lovin' Anymore
Mood:

celebratory
Topic: "Vom Winde Verweht" (2)
Old times are not soon forgotten in the Shire. Nearly every day Frodo is reminded, by a mellifluous reference, to some ancient bygone which lingers, just below the surface. In simpler terms, there is an abiding belief that, sooner or later, justice will be done, and things returned to the way God intended. That is why some people saved "Dixie Cups" every time they went to a soda fountain, for years. Frodo is pleased that there are very few soda fountains, any more.

Otis W. Smith wanted to be a medical doctor, and he had all the tools, except money. About to drop out of Meharry Medical College, he was informed by Dr. Benjamin Mays that an "anonymous donor" had created more than 40 scholarships for Morehouse graduates who were attending Medical School. He went on to become Georgia's first certified pediatrician who just happened to be black. Remembering the generosity of the unknown benefactor, he subsequently created scholarships at Morehouse.

The story does not end there, and that is the reason for Frodo taking note of the passing of this talented, and generous, medical practitioner. You see, dear reader, Dr. Smith found out late in his own life who that mysterious benefactor had been. It was a lady named Margaret Mitchell, who just happened to believe that the black community badly needed a better level of medical care than what was received during her lifetime. If the name sounds vaguely familiar, it should be, because she wrote one of the best books ever written, and she was long reviled for her "glorification" of the "Old South" in the masterful "Gone With the Wind."

Dr. Smith wrote a personal check for $10,000 and submitted the first private contribution for the restoration of Margaret Mitchell's home in downtown Atlanta.

Indeed, dear reader, old times are not forgotten, and that is what Frodo likes about the South. Frodo has not visited that house, but now he thinks it is something he will do. His kind of people lived there.

"Vom Winde Verweht" is the title as translated into German. Frodo first saw the movie, before he had read the book, in Frankfurt in German (without subtitles), and he cried, although a little slower than the German audience.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 7:45 PM EST

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Saturday, February 10, 2007

Down On The Corner, Out In The Street
Mood:

lucky
Topic: "Man For All Seasons" (2)
Three years older than was John Fitzgerald Kennedy, and with more time served in the Congress of the United States than Abraham Lincoln, Barack Obama (D-IL) today officially becomes a candidate for President of the United States. Senator Obama announced his candidacy in the town of Springfield, Illinois. It was a bitterly cold day. The very breath of a nation seemed to blow about and disappear amidst the words of unity and mission.

Frodo has heard enough such announcements, and dreads the fact that, invariably, more are to follow. It is amazing, he thought, what 1400 days of failure since the declaration of "Mission Accomplished" have done to forever alter the balance of power that seemingly worked so well since the Spring of 1865. The apparent deliberate effort to strengthen the Presidency against the other components of government has diluted the confidence of the American people. The Congress is seen as weak and interminably preoccupied with procedure-versus-policy. The Judiciary has become little more than the appointed shill of the ideologue, at least in the mind of the voter. The Presidency itself, is a reflection of a part-time snake-oil salesman who has never gotten a grasp on what exactly he was supposed to be doing. The result is a divisiveness which seems to permeate everything.

That is why Frodo looks up to Barack Obama. There is no consideration for his "ethnicity." Whether he is liberal or conservative is not an issue to Frodo. What does matter is that Obama stood with Senator Robert Byrd (D-WV) and Frodo Baggins when they seemed to be the only inhabitants of Middle Earth who opposed the Pre-Emptive War. There is an air of "statesmanship" as opposed to "politician" about this young man.

Frodo is trying very hard not to paint a messianic portrait of a human being with flaws. Perhaps the analogy is of young Luke Skywalker, guided by the last of the Jedi Knights, to rise to a level of responsibility not sought, but accepted. In this winter of our continuing discontent, it is Frodo's fondest hope that in the spring to come the young man from Illinois will grow wiser still and become even more determined to bring all the peoples of Middle Earth together. Only then will the forces of darkness pull back from the horizon.

Frodo looks forward to the day when differing opinions again become the crux of progress, rather than instruments of divisiveness. If Barack Obama is the one to reach out to each of us, then so be it.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 12:36 PM EST

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Friday, February 9, 2007

Come On And Be My Little Good Luck Charm
Mood:

amorous
Topic: "Astronaughty" (2)
Frodo spent a little time today with the Men of Gondor, and they spent most of the time talking about Anna Nicole Smith, or, more appropriately, the late Anna Nicole Smith. From there the conversation digressed to "Desperate Housewives,""Boston Legal," and other television shows with which Frodo has little awareness other than name recognition. It seems that the premise of all these oft-watched shows is cheap and tawdry sex, even if in an exclusive atmosphere. That, perhaps, explains the easy segue from the late Ms. Smith.

What bothered Frodo afterwards is how quickly attention shifts in this era of instant fulfillment. Not once did any of the Men of Gondor mention a certain Astronautress who had captured attention earlier this week by allegedly attempting to convert a "menage-a-trois" into a more workable zone defense. Clad in a delay preventative adult garment, she motored 900 miles in order to talk sense into her rival. She left behind her soon-to-be ex-husband and three children, in order to properly dispose of the other interest maintained by a male Astronaut with whom she has been maintaining an "adult" relationship. All discussion of this seemingly untoppable behavioral toot has suddenly been halted by the latest, and the deadest.

Frodo is now considering sex in a weightless environment. Were he the producer of a hit TV show like "Desperate Housewives," Frodo would try to weave a show around shenanigans in an environment where the slightest movement would send bodies tumbling uncontrollably through space. Perhaps, he said, there has always been a latent sexuality to the Space Program that we non-participants never actually understood.

"Houston, the Eagle has landed."
"Tranquility base here."
"Roger that."
"That's one small step for Man. . ."

Now take the same words and imagine if they had been spoken by Anna Nicole while a passenger on the Space Shuttle?

"Hello, Mr. Spielberg? Frodo here. I have an idea for a movie. . ."

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:20 PM EST

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Thursday, February 8, 2007

Every Day Is a Windin' Road
Mood:

rushed
Topic: "What Schedule?" (2)
Frodo operates very well when everything takes place in its own time, and at designated rates of speed. Traffic jams on Interstate 75, cancelled lunch appointments, unannounced guests, and "emergencies" tend to increase anxiety levels in the halfling. Changes in plans, personal conflicts, and a seeming inability to deal in candor cause Frodo's hair to become thinner, and his waist to expand concomitantly. The incredible part is that it bothers Frodo, at all.

If Frodo had fallen to the Black Riders, all of these crises would remain for others to face. Still, much depends on Frodo and, by choice, he has taken responsibility for the destruction of the Ring.

This morning Frodo had to bypass his morning exercise and his intake of bulk. It was to the medical practitioner for check-ups which required no intake for a half-day before. His scheduled luncheon meeting was cancelled thirty minutes before it was to take place. The ability to work silently through that previously blocked period was disturbed by an unforseen and inexplicable problem with a motorcar. A previously resolved work product re-emerged with a minor, but time-consuming adjustment. Potential solutions to current problems arrived and required analysis. An obvious conclusion to one assignment was blocked by the inexperience of one of the participants, and Frodo did not have the time or the capacity to bring the matter to a close all alone. And then, a well-meaning compatriot provided Frodo with so much information that his computing machine began to reject valuable data.

Tomorrow morning it will be cold in the Shire. Frodo normally bypasses his morning jaunt with Mick, the Wonder Dog, when the weather threatens tightening tendons. Another luncheon will keep Frodo from his normal twice-a-week mid-day workout, and then he will have to attend a boring affair, with boring people, discussing boring subject-matter, all on a Friday afternoon with snow in the forecast for the ride home.

When Frodo was a half-halfling this story would end early in the morning with the plaintive wail, "Mom, I'm sick and I can't go to school today."

Growing older requires a whole new set of solutions to problems, and the worst part is that you have less time available for their proper implementation. For the uninitiated, that is one of Gandalf's greatest lessons to Frodo.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:24 PM EST

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Wednesday, February 7, 2007

Don't You Feel Like Cryin'
Mood:

d'oh
Topic: "Chassahowitzka" (2)
It seems just like yesterday, thought Frodo, when he sat in front of his television and watched the pilot in the Ultra-Light lift off and turn in a southerly direction. Behind the fragile craft, from the swampy wetlands of Wisconsin, rose 18 individuals following their perceived leader. For many days and nights the young Whooping Cranes would trail after the faux leader who would lead them on their first migration to their winter feeding grounds in Florida. Once this initial trip was completed, the young pilots could steer their own way back-and-forth with the change of seasons.

It is moments like this that make Frodo proud of the young scientists and naturalists who study, observe, test and act, for little money, and who take self-satisfaction in saving the work of God. It is certainly not comfortable to fly in an open air motorized glider through cold and often inclement weather. These are remarkable people, and they deserve much for what they accomplish.

A few days ago, a series of tornados tore through Central Florida, and the wilderness area known as Chassahowitzka felt the impact. 17 of the 18 young Whooping Cranes who had just completed their first migration to their winter feeding grounds were killed. Nature reclaimed that which belongs to her.

Frodo cannot help but grieve for those young people, and share their pain. "It is so strange," said Frodo, "that on the same day that five US Marines and 2 US Sailors were killed in the downing of another helicopter in Iraq, Frodo feels the loss of wild birds."

"Mr. Frodo," said Sam, "one Crane survived. Don't you think we should be glad for that, and that the lesson is that life goes on, despite the challenges laid before us?"

Frodo raised his head and said, "And for the young men and women who go up in helicopters and Ultra-Lights and come back safely unto Earth."

"Mr. Frodo," said Sam, "Why don't we suggest they name that Whooping Crane, say, 'Ichabod?'"

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:23 PM EST

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Monday, February 5, 2007

Kiss Me Once And Kiss Me Twice It's Been a Long, Long Time
Mood:

caffeinated
Topic: "Snazis" (2)

Frodo has always believed that the quickest way to cure what ails America is to physically reduce the number of attorneys by 65% before noon tomorrow. Frodo's prime example has been the political arena, where it seems that every failed practicing barrister is drawn to the public teat. For many years, Frodo believed that the composition of the representatives in government should better reflect the actual vocational make-up of the country. Let there be athletes in Congress, and businessmen, and teachers, and accountants, and even a cowboy or two. Frodo once felt that medical practitioners would also be welcome, but Bill Frist subsequently convinced him that we don't need any of those guys anywhere near authority.

Congressmen Tom Price and Phillip Gingrey, Republicans from adjoining districts in Georgia, have announced their support for Mitt Romney to be their Party's nominee for the Presidency in 2008. "Excuse me," said Frodo, "but isn't Romney a Mormon, and doesn't he have something or other to do with Massachusetts, the home of Teddy Kennedy?"

One might, indeed, wonder why two practicing surgeons, serving the people of the Northern counties of greater Atlanta would step forward to endorse the Mayor of Boston? What's wrong with Rudy Giuliani? What about John McCain? Why endorse a practitioner of a Faith which most Southerners consider bordering on Jim Jones and the Kool-Aid crew? Why pass over the guy who kept the nation's heart and soul in the palm of his hands during the 9-11 crisis? Why not give support to a military hero? Why Mitt Romney, of all people? Are these guys goofy?

Well yes, they are goofy. This is why Frodo has devised the term "Snazi," which roughly defines these "Surgical Nazis." These two purveyors of the mystical arts of obstetrics and tummy tucks are not brave enough to admit that they are merely covering their bald butts, for fear they might have to return to the non-political world of real work. Giuliani is pro-abortion rights, pro gay rights, he has been divorced twice, he is an adulterer who makes Newt Gingrich look like a choirboy, and he's probably related to somebody named Genovese or Corleone. Rudy will not get 37 Republican votes from the entire State of Georgia in the Presidential Election, even if his opponent was named Hillary.

McCain is old. McCain is older than Ronald Reagan, and Reagan had no recall of his last six years in office. McCain has also been out there kissing up to every Christian Coalition in the American South, to little advantage. Most of the "Kick 'em through the goalposts of Life, Baby Jesus" crowd believe that McCain doesn't really believe that he and Jerry Falwell are actually anything more than enemy soldiers sharing the same foxhole. Our voodoo Snazis also recognize that McCain has cast his credibility with the "surge" theory of George W. Armstrong Custer Bush, and that even these goofballs recognize the sheer stupidity of that position.

That leaves a Mormon Mayor of Boston. "Heck," says Gingrey, "let's just get him one of those flags I endorsed, and let him march around the Square in Marietta next Fourth of July."

"Suh," says Price, "how can you fail to endorse a Man who won't even soil his lips with caffeine? He practices good health. Good health means happy voters. That's the answer to 'Socialized Medicine.'"

"Aha," says Frodo, "Socialized Medicine."

Comes the light.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:24 PM EST

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Sunday, February 4, 2007

How Can People Be So Heartless
Mood:

accident prone
Topic: "Stupor Bowl Sunday"(2)
Promises, to Frodo, are delays; one "promises" to take action at a future date and time. Even in a Wedding vow, a promise is a committment to behavior which will be followed. Given that as a definition, Frodo is today plagued by a promise made, and not yet kept.

There is a worldwide conspiracy by people in foreign lands to bring down the United States of America. The first evidence is in the unfathomable number of e-mails offering wealth in exchange for personal data. Nearly every one of these offers is composed of syntax which borders on a fundamental misunderstanding of the English language. The most obvious piece of evidence however, if not the most dangerous, is found in every cardboard box containing a piece of furniture which must be assembled by the consumer. Whoever composes these instructions wishes no good fortune to the halfling armed with a Phillips-head screwdriver, a hammer, and an oddly-shaped one-of-a-kind tool.

Sam found a fully-assembled furniture "thingy" which was designed to replace a fully-functional and utilitarian set of bookshelves. Once the bookshelves were removed, and the unassembled "thingy" found its' way to the Shire, Frodo was assigned the task of assemblage. This being a somewhat familiar task, Frodo found himself surprisingly remarkably organized and mentally-prepared.

That situation changed quickly after the pieces were all removed and accounted for, and Frodo scanned the instructions. The drawings were totally inconsistent with Frodo's needs. The pictures were too small to be read without optical additions. The pictures did not distinguish "finished" from "unfinished." The pictures did not include a picture of the finished product itself.

The instructions did include a label for each piece in the package. The pieces themselves however, had no corresponding label. The instructions specified the use of dowels at certain locations, but the instructions did not detail which of the three sizes of dowels included in the package were to be used at any appropriate point. The instructions also reflected a syntax not unlike that associated with certain e-mails previously discussed herein.

Uh-oh, thought Frodo.

The above thought arose in Frodo's throat more than three weeks ago. Hence our discussion about "promises." There is leisure time today, and even Frodo cannot bring himself to spend one more minute absorbing Pre-Super Bowl hype. Frodo has run out of excuses for inaction.

In a few moments Frodo will move his motorcar from his garage, and spreak the assemblage on the garage floor in front of him. Fiona and Mick, the Wonder Dog, will not venture into the area, despite their weekend desire to never waiver from Frodo's side, in case they miss something cool. They recognize the pattern, and prior behavior tantrums are fresh in their collective memory.

Be warned dear reader, even the scaling of Mount Doom required less than the will Frodo today exhibits. Should something break during the process, or should Frodo find a foreign-accented individual on the other end of the "helpline" ("available M-S from 8 until 5 PST"), it may not be suitable for those under 18 to be in the area of the Shire.

Frodo is also hereby notifying the manufacturer, be he foreign or domestic, of furniture "thingys" that, when next confronted by such a threat, Frodo will take pre-emptive action. These are indeed weapons of mass destruction, and the irrational George W. Bush which exists in all of us, to some extent, will take over, and Frodo will call up the National Guard.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 11:58 AM EST

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