Mood:  irritated

"What you see is what you get," so spake Flip Wilson, in drag, as Geraldine more than twenty years ago.  Frodo was struck this evening by the punditry gone wild, and the fact that a very nice lady, named Geraldine, with a great deal of hard work in her past, who is fighting for her life against Cancer, is catching holy hell for the apparent racial implications in her public comments.  What she said put Senator Obama in the context of the "nappy-headed ho's," and  her own butt in the the chair before the microphone of Don Imus.

Frodo has walked similar ground; perhaps, dear reader, so have we all.  Frodo, many years ago, in gratitude, extended an invitation to a party to more than a hundred people who worked with him.  It was just a few days after the brilliant teleplay of Alex Haley's "Roots" had appeared on TV nationally.  This incredibly powerful story had an impact on everyone who watched each and every episode during the days when TV was something important.  Frodo, in his effort to be both topically wise, and funny, included comments in the invitation to his party about "Chicken George," and other characters.  Subsequently, Frodo received a letter signed by each of the invitees who happened to be black.  A copy of that letter was sent to all of those who had been invited to the party.

Frodo was not only humiliated, but he was struck to his very being.  He had insulted the guys with whom he played basketball.  He had written words almost sacrilegious to people whom he supervised.  He had given comfort to those who always seemed to be looking to exhibit that blacks wanted to be treated differently.  And he had not realized it.  He also knew that "the incident" would always haunt his relationships, and it has never escaped his memory.

Perhaps his own experience is why Frodo felt the way he did this evening.  Both Don Imus and Geraldine Ferraro had joined in his shame for the hurtful expressions uttered with the best of intentions.  No one, including Bilbo, ever told Frodo that life was going to be either easy, or fair.  Life is much more like the words Flip Wilson uttered as Geraldine.  

Just watch out for "Killer." 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:54 PM EDT

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Mood:  loud

"Mr. Frodo, do you know how they take attendance at a NASCAR event?," asked the grinning Samwise.

Slightly puzzled, Frodo responded, "No, I'm afraid I don't."

"They count the number of teeth in the audience, then they divide by four."

Frodo laughed, but for just a moment.  The joke hit home, and made Frodo think about the folly that is truly an environmental disaster, aid and comfort to our enemies, and the source of mindless pleasure to those who seem to enjoy watching traveling commercials circumnavigated by white guys who cannot jump, run, or catch.  Is there, he thought, anything that we do which is as completely moronic as automobile racing?  "How sad," he said to himself, "that those of us in the Shire and its environs seem to be the major protagonists.  We can't even blame this on stupid Yankees."

The hydrocarbons which spew into the air around Bristol, Tennessee, or Darlington, South Carolina, or Talladega, Alabama, are contributors to declining air quality in our country.  The expenditure of millions of gallons of oil and petroleum products, at much more than $100 per barrel, is like pouring our national wealth directly into the hands of those who offer support to jihadists, terrorists, and the Bush Administration.  And somebody sits in the grandstands and cheers, and they allege to "support our troops," and to "keep America strong."

Horse hockey.

If Frodo were "King for a Day," he would, since it is apparently legal in the mind of George W. Bush, subject every sponsor of a NASCAR "team" to waterboarding.  That would include NFL Hall of Fame Coach Joe Gibbs, late of the Washington Redskins.  "How," Frodo would demand of such insurgents, "can anyone alleging to live their life in Faith continue to participate in somethinmg so barbaric, so incredibly dangerous to our country?"  Frodo would make each of these miscreants answer as to whether or not they thought Jesus would sponsor a car driven by Ricky Rudd?

And another thing, these people have the right to vote, and their vote, dear reader, is no more and no less valuable than that of either you or Frodo.  "How," Frodo screams, "can we allow the obviously mentally ill to determine who will be the nominee of any political party, much less President?"  Frodo, apparently, would also suspend the right to vote for anyone attending, watching, or listening to any automotive event within the continental United States. 

If Senator McCarthy were still around, Frodo would write him an anonymous letter, and charge that NASCAR was a subversive organization.   

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:51 AM EST

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Mood:  hug me

It is no secret that the Shire has been victimized by juvenile hispanic weather systems for many months.  Frodo's motorcars no longer sparkle like the morning dew, and budding azaleas have no more promise than the boxwoods which never bloom.  This is, however, the wettest time of the year, and early season thunderstorms do rumble through with increasing frequency.  Nature has a clarion call for the coming Spring, and her violent light-show portends freight-train like descriptions from every trailer park between Nebraska and Florida.  The inhabitants of the Shire are not immune to the ominous barometric pressure fluctuations which alter their behavior.

Fiona, hereby dubbed as fearless, exceeds 70 years in non-canine measurement.  In all that time, she has never seemed to notice that thunder rolls and lightning flashes, that is, until this year.  Now, when storms threaten, be they mid-afternoon or midnight, she ambles into the downstairs and out the dog-door to first stand under the porch and observe Nature and her handiwork.  She waddles then out into the storm in order to lie beneath her favorite bush in the gardens of the Shire.  Here she is soaked by falling rain, but appears secure in the knowledge that she can see what the hell is going on from friendly turf.

Frodo long ago noted that there is a weather trench that blows on a northeasterly track just to the west of the Shire.  In recent years, Frodo has noted an increased tendency for the devil-filled whirlwinds to travel outside the trench and traverse even closer to the Shire.  Perhaps Fiona, the Fearless, has noted the same.

Frodo has spared no expense in removing the dreaded yellow pine trees from the Gardens of the Shire.  There are few threats, other than a direct hit, which should be of concern to the residents of the Shire.  Frodo and Sam have marked secure locations, near the dog-door, on the bottom floor, where all would gather whenever the sirens cry warning.  The spot is close to the bush where Fiona, the Fearless, has staked her claim.

Science sometimes merely confirms the obvious.  

There is an old saying in the political circles of those who are drenched by Potomac Fever.  "If you want a friend in Washington, get a dog."  Sage advice dear reader, sage advice.    

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:59 PM EST

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Mood:  chatty

"Mr. Frodo, I'm here from the Obama campaign."

"Yes young man, I've been expecting you.  Your telephone call this morning sounded very urgent.  What can I do for you?"

"Well Sir, as you may have noted, Senator Obama got sort of derailed on his way to the Democratic nomination last night."

"Yes, I think I heard something about that.  But what does that have to do with me, a mere Hobbit?"

"Well Sir, the Senator has been following your writings, and he asked several of us for input on how Mr. Frodo might combat some of the negative ads being used by the opposition.  I merely suggested that we ask you for your opinion.  So here I am."

"I see, so are you here asking in generalities or is there something specific?

"Well Sir, in particular, the Senator was really miffed about that ad which dealt with a telephone call at three AM, which suggested that Senator Obama would not be able to handle an emergency situation."

"First off, young man, Senator Obama is aware that there was absolutely nothing original about that ad?  In fact, it was basically plagiarized from ads run in earlier elections by both Democrats and Republicans."

"Yes Sir, we were familiar with the theme, and if you'll remember, we did try a strong response almost immediately."

"Yes my boy, I saw that.  In a word, it sucked."

"Sir?  We actually thought it was pretty good."

"My boy, go back and tell your boss to contract for two ads.  One directed at Senator Clinton, the other at Senator McCain."

"Okay, but why two different ones?"

Frodo smiled.  "For Senator Clinton, start things out exactly as shown previously, you can even use the same dialogue up to the point of 'Who do you want answering the phone at Three A.M.?' and then comes the clincher."

"Sir?"

"The next line should be, 'Hello, this is Bill.'"

"Hah (sounding a bit like Chris Matthews), I get it.  That would be great.  But what about McCain?"

"My boy, that's even easier.  Just let the phone keep ringing, and when the question is asked, turn up the background noise to hear the most godawful snoring ever broadcast during the family hour."

"Mr. Frodo, if things work out the way we hope, would you consider a position in the Obama Administration?"

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:21 PM EST

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Mood:  down

March fourth is the one day of the year that is a verbal command to go forward.  How appropriate, writes Frodo, that the Republican Party will tomorrow announce that the oldest man to ever be nominated for the Presidency by a major political party will appear in the Rose Garden with the worst President in our national experience.  Even now, the Republicans are unable to accept the symbolism of missing the train, if only by a single day.  John McCain is an unacceptable leadership alternative, despite the fact that he is the direct political descendant of the current officeholder.  Their relationship merely proves that not all Neanderthals disappeared during the Ice Age.

John McCain served his country well, forty years ago.  He has absolutely no qualifications that justify a leadership role in economic matters.  He has absolutely no inspirational appeal when he stumbles about a dais, holding a microphone as if it were a Good Humor Bar, and likens the uninformed throng before him as if they were close and personal acquaintances.  He appeals to the total lack of common sense that permeates those who supported George W. Bush, twice, and have, as yet, neglected to wipe the drool from their mouths.

Frodo has faced Orcs on many occasions.  Sauron's final supporter has been identified and stands before the Fellowship of the Ring at the Black Gate.  Despite all the differences that exist between the peoples of Middle Earth, and the conflicts for leadership therein, all good men know that now is the time to destroy the Ring.  John McCain must lose. 

Merry, Eowyn, Legolas, Boromir, the fallen Galadriel all stand with shield and sword to rally behind Aragorn, as Sam and Frodo overcome Gollum at the brink of Mount Doom.  It is a mortal struggle that ensues, that which borders hope with ignorance.  Sauron will gird his general and send him into the fray.  It will not be easy, but it must be done.

John McCain must be defeated, totally.  The Ring will be no more.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:04 PM EST

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Methodists are not traditionally heroic people, at least Frodo can't seem to zero in on a single self-proclaimed Methodist who has ever done anything which would merit Medal of Honor consideration.  There was a Minister's daughter however who once volunteered to expand Frodo's horizons in ways that only a Minister's daughter could, but Frodo felt the offer might be more self-satisfying than courageous.  His declination of her favors expanded his anticipation.

Although John Wesley is a widely-recognized name in Methodism, Frodo does not seem to recall any instance where he slew dragons in the name of Faith.  The first names with whom Frodo became acquainted as notable, or cool, in Methodism, were General JEB Stuart and R. J. Reynolds.  It is particularly interesting to note that both JEB Stuart and R. J. Reynolds were both kicked out of the "College of the Shire" (Frodo's alma mater) for the same reason; public drunkenness.  Upon learning of this historical fact, Frodo did his absolute best to follow in the footsteps of greatness.  Despite the concentrated efforts of questionable entrepreneurial manufacturers as well as predominant corporate entities, Frodo somehow avoided a forced retreat from this bastion of learning and values.

JEB Stuart's history is easily researched, and is better addressed in another forum.  R.J. Reynolds, the founder of the tobacco empire, is another story, and this truism is the basis of the tears of laughter to follow. 

R.J Reynolds never forgave the College of the Shire for kicking him out, so he swore revenge.  Some years later, the corporate giant started buying and selling companies (which seems to be an activity which dominates the interests of corporate giants, of all types).  R.J. purchased the Norfolk & Western Railway, among other companies.  Perhaps it was merely coincidental, but the next thing that seemed to happen was the construction of a main line of the Norfolk & Western right through the middle of the campus at the College of the Shire.  It remains there to this day, and the hours between sunset and sunrise seem to be the busiest for this merchant carrier.

Frodo recalls many hours where his silence was broken by the lonesome whistle of a freight train.  Frodo developed a special affection for the songs of Hank Williams, and a loathing for the revenge enjoyed by R. J. Reynolds. 

Our story occurred during the height of the Vietnam War.  Frodo and his friends eventually noted that the Norfolk & Western was carrying Merchants of Death.  Tanks, armored personnel carriers, artillery pieces, and other weapons of war were on flat-beds, and they came through the College of the Shire in the middle of the night.  When friends began to die, in a war in which democracy was on the wrong side, Frodo could not stand idly by, nor could Russell Frost. 

Russell and Frodo, with the assistance of a few others, fashioned breechcloths, made headbands, and painted their faces.  Changing the "green" light to "red" on a railroad track was not beyond the technical competence of any pre-med or engineering student.  Together the band portrayed the last Indian raid in the Commonwealth of Virginia.  Using rubber-tipped arrows, this gallant band rained terror from the skies upon the engineers, brakemen, and other employees of R.J. Reynolds who were transporting the weapons of war.

Not unlike the Red Men of yore, they knew that all they could do was delay the moments of destruction.  The train pulled on after less than thirty minutes under fire.  The employees of R.J. Reynolds voiced their displeasure with the "Commie Pinkos," and commerce drove them on to Fort Benning, and destinations beyond.  Only then would people be injured, and die.

Frodo likes to think that R.J. Reynolds would have admired the spunk of Frodo and Russell.  Frodo would have invited him to share a drink.

Russell Frost died from Cancer of the Thymus Gland.  Frodo had to look it up, since he didn't know that he had such a gland, or that he might fall because of it.  The Russell Frost Memorial Scholarship at the College of the Shire not only recognizes those who dream about a better world, but those who happen to have a little fun along the way.     

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:10 PM EST

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Mood:  celebratory

Bill Cosby can think, and speak, and mimic millions of children.  Frodo is sure that as he has aged, Cosby becomes equally adept at the thought, speech, and behavior patterns of befuddled adults.  One of his routines that comes to Frodo's mind is the story of a cherub named Jeffrey who ran amuck on an airplane.  With seeming parental indifference throughout the flight, Jeffrey announced to each and every passenger, repeatedy, that his name was Jeffrey, and that he was "foe years old."  Cosby won the hearts and minds of his fellow passengers when he took affirmative action and awakened the little monster who fell asleep, finally, just before the plane landed.

Noting the topic above, with the addition of the number "foe" next to it dear reader, Frodo commences this his fourth year in dialogue with those of us who share his proclivity for music, laughter, and occasional outrage.  His title this evening are words penned by Pete Seeger, a man of peace, whose life's dream has been for all the world to sing along, albeit in perfect harmony.  Frodo has been honored to, on two occasions, shake the hand of this true and gentle man.

Bill Cosby and Pete Seeger are fitting reference points this night.  One who makes Frodo laugh, and one with whom he sings along.  The comedian has been charged with racial insensitivity, and the singer with being a Communist.  Frankly, Frodo enjoys the message as much as he admires the messengers.  That, perhaps, best addresses the context of letting our little lights shine.

Everyday.

Frodo has been offered an award.  It is not something he sought, nor is it something he feels is necessary.  He said to one observer that if "One gives enough money, sooner or later somebody is going to give you something to put on a wall."  He added, "If one expects more than that, they will only be disappointed." 

Frodo Baggins picked up a sword, and carries the Ring, because it needed doing.   Scholarships named for people with whom Frodo laughed and sang were the right thing to commence, and their growth is the true reward.  Frodo remembers the love and affection he shared with friends long gone, and has seen actual evidence that their names offer a little light, and hope, to the darkness of adolesence. 

Laughter, music, and a little progress being made.  Things don't get much better. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:37 PM EST

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Mood:  crushed out

Frodo has begun the annual exercise which requires that books, records, receipts, and SWAG be properly assembled.  Reference materials go on one edge of the table, and that is what garners his attention at this moment.  Something he reads however, causes him to push back from the table and to consider the impact on a grander scale.

The entrepreneurial Mr. Frodo has funded his own plan for retirement (which will henceforth be identified herein as the "R" word).  Frodo knew that once he reached age 59.5 he could, note could, begin to draw from his R plan.  He had failed to note however, that he must, note must, begin to draw from his R plan at age 70.5.  The reason that certain rules exist in the Internal Revenue Code is permanently lost to the miasma of the legislative process.  But, Frodo knows, there must be a reason for there to be a requirement that withdrawals commence by this point in the life of the Great American Taxpayer.

Surely, thinks Frodo, the wise and good representatives of the American people, who know and understand the hard work of our people, deemed age 70.5 as the point at which everyone has earned the right to rest and relax.  R begins at age 70.5.

John McCain is 71 years of age, and he would be 72 when he takes office, if elected to the Presidency.  No President has ever entered office so late in life.  Given the actuarial tables that exist relative to lifespan in America today, it is not only unlikely, but against all odds that John McCain would survive two full-terms.  Frodo notes that at the same time John McCain would receive $400,000 per year to serve as President (arguably the toughest job in the world), he would also be drawing from his own R Fund.  Why?  Because it was meant that old men should retire, and not fumble around behind talk show hosts and call everybody "my friends."

Ronald Reagan, until now the oldest to ever serve as President, turned the argument around on his Democratic opponent Walter Mondale.  Reagan commented during a debate that he did not believe that "age" was a factor, and therefore he would not raise the relative youth and inexperience of his opponent.  Everyone laughed.

Nobody should be laughing now.  John McCain did not decide to spend 5.5 years of his life being confined and tortured.  It happened however, and that cruel treatment has quite likely further subtracted from the time available to him.  All political references to "change" and the "old way" of doing things aside, it is a serious point that should dominate consideration for this gentleman's fitness for such rigorous duty.

Nobody every said that things were ever going to be fair or easy.  Senator McCain, it is time to plant some flowers, while you still have the opportunity to smell them.  To view the status quo as simply one more challenge in your life is an admirable concept, but it is truly an uncharacteristic disservice to your country to give less than your best. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:10 PM EST

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Mood:  vegas lucky

"Governor Bredesen, this is Governor Perdue."

"Governor Perdue, this is Governor Bredesen."

"Gentlemen, I'm Referee Frodo."

"Governor Perdue, since you're the Visitor, you will get to call the coin flip.  Gentlemen this side with the Peach Tree will be 'Heads' and the side with the Coonskin Cap will be 'Tails.'  Governor Perdue, call 'Heads' or 'Tails' while the coin is in the air."

"Heads."

"Thank you Governor Perdue, and the coin has come up 'Heads.'  Do you wish to go on offense in District Court or do you defer until the Appeals Court?"

"The Great State of Georgia will litigate."

"Thank you Governor Perdue.  Governor Bredesen, you have the choice of defenses."

"The Great State of Tennessee opts for 'Regular and Customary Use'."

"Thank you Governor Bredesen, please stand here with your back to the Nickajack Reservoir.  You, Governor Perdue, face him with your back to the Wall.  Good luck gentlemen, now let's do it."

"Governor Perdue, Samwise here with WATR.  How do you plan to open your attack against the faulty survey and to obtain clear title to the land bordered by the middle of the Tennessee River?"

"Samwise, we intend to flood the zone with signage, and to convince the defenders that the water truly belongs to Georgia.  We will wear them down."

"Good luck to you Governor."

"Governor Bredesen, how do you intend to defend the charge of the Georgians that access to the water is theirs by virtue of the survey line originally granted by Congress?"

"Well Sam, we're not gonna let them 'water board' us.  This has been Tennessee property for over two hundred years, and if it was truly theirs, why didn't they try to get it before?"

"And good luck to you Governor."

"Well Readers, there you see the layout for this 'Battle of the Titans'.  You can hear the Tennessee Fans cheering 'We're Number one,' while the Georgia Fans respond with 'Bull----, Bull----'.  The results at the end of the District Court will be followed by the Appeal, and if the combatants are still not separated, the Supreme Court will make sure that there is no tie.  'Kissing your sister' will not be the result of this contest here today." 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:16 PM EST

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Mood:  cheeky

Frodo is particularly cheeky when some of his more bizarre postulates apparently document the validity of his thesis.  Such is the case that follows.

Readers will recall the "Runaway Bride," the Bank Robbery Bimbos," and other recent events making national news which all seem to occur in Gwinnett County, Georgia.  Located just Northeast of Metropolitan Atlanta, this domicile for white, overweight, conservative Republican refugees from frozen suburbs is a center for controversial human behavior.  Named for a non-descript, almost universally anonymous, signer of the Declaration of Independence, Gwinnett County deserves the derision heaped upon its residents.  Until recently, Gwinnett County was the largest governmental territory in all of the United States of America without any form of public transportation.  Frodo alleges that when one has no public transportation, then one need not worry about "them" coming into your neighborhood.  Gwinnett County also consistently re-elects John Linder (R-GA) to Congress, who is, of course, known as the "Father" of the "Flat Tax." 

In Frodo's opinion, the only thing that separates Gwinnett County from the other denizens of dementia, aka the great State of Texas, is that the F-150 is the preferred model of pick-up truck parked in each and every driveway as a precondition to residence.

Lisa Lynette Clark, 39, was released from Metro State Prison Friday, on the same day that 1000 copies of her biographical publication "Betrayed: The True Life Story of Lisa Lynette Clark," became available.  Two years ago, Lisa Clark became a household name when her marriage to a 15-year-old boy made the rounds of news shows, and brought well-deserved attention to Georgia's quaint laws on the "institution of marriage" (does this sound like a familiar campaign issue to you, too?).  Upon release dear reader, can you even vaguely imagine her first destination?

McDonald's.

From that gastronomical experience, she reported to a probation office, and answered a few questions from reporters.  As a convicted "sex offender," e.g. child molestation, statutory rape, and enticing a child for indecent purposes, Clark also carries a new title upon her return to public life.  She is now also known as "Mom."  The baby, born in jail, was placed in a foster home, where he still lives, with a friend of her family.  The "father," whose name has never been released because he is the victim of a "sexual assault," now lives in (you're gonna love this) Texas.  It is important, if not downright unbelievably insane, to note that Clark and the "father" were legally wed on the day before she was arrested.

As you exhale dear reader, Frodo can answer your question.  Yes, a convicted sex offender is married to the victim, and they are the parents of a child, and preasumably, they will obtain custody.

Frodo will be surprised if there is much of a run on this new addition to American literature, but he simply had to recite a few lines for your entertainment.  Noting her initial attraction to the (lover/husband/victim/co-conspirator, pick no more than two), Clark writes "He was buff with a six pack of abs, cut pecks and big arms. . .".  

Buff?

Also quoted from the book is part of a letter she wrote to the (lover/husband/victim/co-conspirator) which reads "I know we have made some mistakes, but I know we have what it takes.  You are my best friend.  Until we meet again, I love you baby, so much."

Frankly, thought Frodo, those words could come from the Farewell Address to be delivered by George W. Bush.

Oh, and Frodo almost forgot to mention this.  Guess where the happy couple plan to reside? 

Gwinnett County.   

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 11:08 AM EST

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