Frodo, Keeper of the Ring

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Goodnight Irene, I'll See You In My Dreams
Mood:

hungry
Topic: "Day of Infamy" (4)

June 2, 1932, dawned like any other day for Mr. George Perry. One can imagine that the Depression hit hardest for those in farming communities like his in south central Georgia. If there was no work in a textile mill or on a large farm, then it fell upon him to somehow provide food for his family. On this particular day, George Perry had it in his mind to catch a "mess" of fish in a nearby farm pond. What followed from that decision has impacted on the lives of thousands, if not millions, of people ever since.

Seventy-six years ago this Monday, George Perry landed a 22-pound, 4-ounce largemouth bass, arguably what has since become the most sought-after freshwater angling record in the world. Frodo, in his quest to surpass Mr. Perry, has achieved 7 pounds, 1-ounce in his closest approximation. Frodo keeps a number of pictures comparing his "lunker" to small dogs, a grown Hobbit, and an ice chest. Frodo can only imagine equivalent comparisons to Mr. Perry's catch. Although Frodo has never seen the site of that magnificent event, he understands it to be a rather modest spot, and that no one is really sure what Mr. Perry used for "bait" (although Frodo assumes it was probably a live goat, a la "Jurassic Park").

Frodo has been a generous contributor to the largely-American industry which supplies paraphenalia to assist in the effort to best George Perry. Frodo has lures that fizzle, pop, go whirl, twirl, sink, float, dive, and fully expects to someday own one which actually flies. Frodo notes that this singular achievement is, indeed, a world record, and that these American manufactured goods are exported to largemouth bass pursuers in almost every nation in the world. Saudi Arabia and Iceland are unfortunately not active trading partners with the US of A in this regard however. What is most amazing about all of this is that a multi-billion dollar industry has grown from the simple fact that a good old boy just went fishin'.

For explainable reasons, Frodo envisions Mr. Perry as looking a lot like Jed Clampett. Which then raises fond memories of "Elly Mae."

Frodo has been working too hard. Maybe he needs to go fishin'.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 12:15 PM EDT

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Thursday, May 29, 2008

Cast Your Destined Spell My Way
Mood:

chillin'
Topic: "Scott Free" (4)

Motivation is not a subject matter in Frodo's vocabulary. Although Frodo greatly enjoys the product of motivation, particularly by a group of athletes, he learned a long time ago to never assume that he understands the specifics behind any form of human behavior. He once heard that there is a "Harvard Law of Behavior," which states that "Under carefully controlled laboratory conditions, human beings behave as they damn well please." "Who," asks Frodo, am I to argue with anyone from Harvard? Especially if that individual had anything to do with granting admittance to George W. Bush."

The second of the four Press Secretaries who have served the Incomparable Moron will be on every television channel this day, with the possible exceptions of Animal Planet and the Weather Channel. The provocative publication, written without the assistance of ghosts or anyone named Bush, is being quoted in part almost everywhere. From overheard conversations about possible cocaine use to direct prevarication by senior staff, the quotations even unsettle Barney and Laura. Frodo, as usual, listens with the jaundiced ear of one who recognizes that there are many, and varied, reasons for a shrimpy little guy to write a book. Not all of the reasons are green.

Frodo has found that, over the years, his athletic accomplishments as a teenager have been magnified, at least in his own mind and recollections. Perhaps, Frodo supposes, the significance of ones' involvement in matters of great public policy is similarly recalled by those who stood in the hallway or poured the coffee. By the same token however, Frodo was a pretty good athlete, and big-mouth Texans do tend to brag, publicly. Could it be that, despite any knowledge of his motivations, Mr. McClellan has chronicled some things that might otherwise never have been viewed in order to shine light on this increasingly dark period in American History?

Frodo's speculation is that there is substance herein. He says so because of the nature of the response, at least so far. Even Katie Couric was able to assemble the incredibly similar verbiage which emanated from Bartlett, Fleischer, and Dana Whatever-her-last-name is. None of the respondees seemed to "recognize" the guy they knew as the same person authoring something so salacious. Amazing it was that Karl Rove also used almost exactly the same words.

With a little less than six months to go before the long national nightmare is pushed aside, and a replacement is identified, Frodo worries about the damage done. The coming Presidency is not an enviable task. There are pressures, foreign and domestic, which challenge the very framework of the system itself. Frodo cannot help but remember how he was reassured, after each of the past two elections, that the "experience" of the winners would work to our national benefit.

That was, of course, before Scott wrote the book. Maybe John McCain should read the book before he speaks further about "experience."

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 1:14 AM EDT

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Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Every Dream Has Only Brought Me Pain
Mood:

not sure
Topic: "Hold the Malaise" (4)

Hillary Clinton is toast. Gasoline is $4 per gallon. Scott McClellan has admitted that the War in Iraq had an ulterior motive. The embodiment of NCLB in Georgia produced a social studies failure rate of over 80% among middle-school-aged children. And to top it all off, squirrels wreaked havoc in the bird feeders of the Shire during Frodo's absence.

The last time so many things seemed to go wrong for everybody, the speed limit on interstate highways was lowered to 55 MPH. The President wrapped himself in a sweater, and started talking about some sort of fog that had befallen the American people, and he started inviting great minds to discuss the situation with him at Camp David. The result being that he received a return ticket to Plains, and some cowboy came into office trying to tell us that ketchup was part of a three-course meal at our nation's schools.

Frodo has been watching, and listening, and he has learned that, for often entirely different reasons, almost everybody is just plain pissed. Things are getting so bad that Jenna and that Goober she married haven't given any indication that they are going to return to Daddy's tutelage. According to "News Reports" on the Faux News Channel, the wrong character was even selected as "The American Idol" (Frodo would not know since he is the only Hobbit who has never watched a single episode). It appears as if the whole world is festering with unhappy souls.

Even in the world of sports, the Tampa Bay Devil Rays have the best record in Major League Baseball, so that means that the overwhelming majority of baseball fanatics are frustrated with their home-town team, and the remainder are going nuts trying to simply locate Tampa Bay on a Rand McNally product. Frodo believes Tampa Bay is someplace where one can purchase neither homeowners insurance nor find the word "chad" in a Funk & Wagnall's.

Frodo knows that Sauron's power is strong, and that he will do all that he can to keep the ring or to at least ensure its care upon the finger of McCain (that is, if he can wrest the finger from McCain's nose). "Change" remains as the last great hope for all, if not dear reader, then we may all be measuring each other as being over 60, frustrated with men, and making less than $50K on our Associates Degree (or something akin).

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 1:13 PM EDT

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Monday, May 19, 2008

In a Castle Dark Or a Fortress Strong, With Chains Upon My Feet
Mood:

mischievious
Topic: "Sidin' With Anemone"(4)

Mr. Beau Neau is a magnificent white cat. After several years of confinement, he found his way to the Shire and promptly put the dog-door to good use. Fortunately, the Shire provides both a barrier and protection to those who wander beneath the azaleas and amidst the English Ivy. Thus Mr. Beau Neau patrols the edges of the territory in exactly the same manner as do his larger, less domestic, feline relatives on continents beyond Middle Earth. Watching him patrol the fenced border is something that the folks at "Animal Planet" would find worthy of a Sunday afternoon special broadcast. He is however, not a pure denizen to the potential prey at his disposal, for he also participates in the marvelous symbiosis of life in the slow lane.

Frodo has several artifical residences for the songbirds, which is an acceptable supplement to the natural environs subscribed to by most. In all likelihood, it is chickadees, wrens, and titmice who seem to eventually try Frodo's offerings, and to raise families in his rental units. While examining one of the boxes with a quick one-eyed stare, Frodo happened to note light colors in the darkness. Subsequently, once he was sure that the inhabitants had vacated the premises, Frodo opened the box in order to closely examine the nest therein. What he found was cat fur, white cat fur, completely lining the nest as insulation for the most recent entrants into the wide world of life in the Shire.

Frodo initiated an examination of all the bird boxes in the Shire, and, sure enough, he found at least some white cat fur in each of them. The titmice tended to best utilize the cat fur, with the wrens showing some, but not much, use for the excess, shall we say, couture of Mr. Beau Neau. Frodo could not help but recall the several consecutive years in which the fur of his dear, departed, gentle Lovey (surrogate mother of Mick, the Wonder Dog), appeared in bird nests. Marveled Frodo however, that he had never seen cat fur used in such a manner.

Frodo could not help but note that Mr. Beau Neau seemed to raise his nose and head off in the direction of each of the subject bird boxes at some point during his observations. Perhaps, thought Frodo, the noble feline is merely exercising his dominion over his territory. Then again, the craven homocidal maniac may have laid out excess fur for the purpose of providing himself with a stocked hunting supply.

Perhaps Frodo and Sam may consider changing his name to "Dick Cheney."

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:00 PM EDT

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Saturday, May 17, 2008

A Time to Every Purpose Under Heaven
Mood:

caffeinated
Topic: "Letter to Lou" (4)

Dear Mr. Lou Dobbs,

Frodo is a very big fan, especially when you lambaste the stupidity of the Bush Administration. Frodo does have to admit however, that you become very tiresome dealing with the same issue over-and-over-and-over. Frodo appreciates the business approach taken to analyze the machinations of government, but feels that you sometimes overlook the trees in the forest by constantly viewing situations from a single perspective. Respectfully Lou, please read the following as an example, because friend Frodo thinks he makes a very important point.

As you know, mortgages are something relatively new in Mexico, since most homes were either inherited, or built by hand. In 2000, the Mexican government began an active promotion of home loans through government agencies in order to stimulate the housing industry. Slowly, traditional bank mortgages became more accessible as interest rates fell. At this point, analysts now estimate that Mexico has a housing shortage of about 4 million homes. The Mexican government is planning for a miilion housing starts annually over the next four years. The goal is to double the present housing inventory by the year 2030. This, friend Lou, means that there is a need for workers trained in new-home construction, in Mexico.

Perhaps Frodo's point is swiftly becoming evident. From where are so many skilled workers going to come? In the United States, where there is a virtual shut-down of new-home construction, with sufficient inventory completed to meet all projected demand for up to five years, there are thousands, if not millions, of immigrants from Mexico who have been working, many illegally, in new-home construction, who are now unable to find jobs. That, kind Sir, is what you've been telling us, night-after-night-after-night. The jobs are now back in their homeland, and that is where they are bound to go, at least in Frodo's opinion.

"Nice theory Mr. Frodo, but how do you know this?," you ask. Well Lou, take a look at the current financials of a little old company based here in Atlanta; you know it, it's Home Depot. Home Depot, since it opened its first retail location in Mexico seven years ago, now has 69 stores in Mexico, and is planning to open 9, or more, this year alone. At the same time, Home Depot has announced the closing of 15 stores in the US. Home Depot, as Frodo is sure you know, makes most of its money from the sale of building materials for residential purposes. At the same time, Home Depot's biggest competitor, Lowe's, has announced plans to open five stores in the City of Monterey by the end of next year.

What this means Mr. Dobbs, is that a lot of those people you've been so concerned about are going to disappear from our borders. They are going to go home, build desperately-needed housing, raise families, and become consumers. They will likely significantly increase living standards in Mexico, and perhaps the next trips they take across the border into our country will be to purchase the goods and services we sell to them.

Now that you've thought about it, aren't you glad we didn't put 12 million people in jail?

Sometimes, Mr. Dobbs, patience is a virtue.

Your friend and admirer,

Frodo Baggins

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:08 AM EDT

Updated: Saturday, May 17, 2008 10:09 AM EDT

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Thursday, May 15, 2008

No Matter Who You Are, No Matter Where You've Been
Mood:

party time!
Topic: "Shock and Awe" (4)

Constable Wayne Burnett of Alice Springs, in the "Land Down Under," recently exhibited a level of naivete which inspired the creative juices in friend Frodo. The Constable ticketed the driver of a car he pulled over, subsequently resulting in a $710 fine, after noting that the front passenger seat had the seat belt securely wrapped around a case of beer. At the same time, the driver's 5-year-old child was bouncing along on the floorboard. Constable Burnett stated that he was "shocked and appalled," adding that this was the "first time that the beer has taken priority over a child."

"Well, exxxxccccuuuuusssse me!," said Frodo. This was a straight line which could not pass undetected.

"Jenna, this is Dad."

"Hi Dad, wasssup?"

"Honey, could you slip on down to the 7-11 and get your old Dad a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon?"

"Why me? Why not send one of the Agents out to get it for ya?"

"Now you know how your Mother is. She checks their logs to make sure I'm not sending them out to the liquor store like I did back in Texshish."

"Daddy, me and Harold just got hitched, and he's over there making googly eyes at me, and I am his wife now, y'know."

"Well, just tell him to put a sock on it while you do a favor for your dear ole Dad. It'll only take a few minutes, and besides, I don't want him messin' around with 'my little girl' anyways."

"Daddy."

"Oh, tell ya what, why not pick up a couple of six-packs and keep one for you two?"

"Can I put it on your account? I mean things are a little tight for us newly-weds, y'know."

"Of course, I understand these things. I remember what it was like before the Trust Fund kicks in."

"Can I pick out a couple of 'Slim Jims' for dinner?"

"Dinner? I've hearda livin' on love, but ain't that a might severe?"

"Daddy, you've told me more than once of the days when you lived on beer and Slim Jims for semesters on end while you were gettin' your legacy at Harvard."

"Hee-hee, that is true. Did I ever tell you about the time I traded your sister for a case of Rolling Rock?"

"Go on."

"It's true, I swear, and boy did your Momma get mad."

"Well what happened?"

"Understand, everything worked out just fine, especially since I got the names confused and told your momma I'd traded my Momma, who's also named Bararbara. . ."

"Yes Daddy, I know."

"So, anyways, I took your sister to the AM/PM up in Midland and told the Wetback who owned the place that if he gave me a case of Rolling Rock, I'd trade him my firstborn."

"What did he say?"

"He jes shook his head, and tole me that if I needed it that bad, I could jes have it. Boy, did I fool him."

"Fool him, how?'

"Shoot girl, everbody knows you was the firstborn twin."

Listen to what that Fool said and did today, and tell Frodo he ain't still poppin' the top?

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:17 PM EDT

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Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Freedom's Just Another Word For Nothin' Left to Lose
Mood:

on fire
Topic: "Yahoo" (4)

When one is the smallest, and the weakest, it is generally not advisable to enter a room looking for a fight. Frodo further learned that if unable to win the fight, then speed would be of paramount value. In the unlikely event that one encounters a foe both stronger and faster, then the ability to talk oneself out of trouble is the only salvation. This, thought Frodo, is the rule of the life that he would lead for all his days. Frodo miscalculated.

Frodo never, for even one second, ever believed that violence would accomplish anything. George W. Bush however, whose moronic display now includes his stated personal sacrifice of the game of golf, in order to better bind with the families of the young men and women whom he sent to a pointless, and unforgivable, war, deserves a punch in the nose. Beyond the imbecility of such a statement, it must be added that photographs reveal that even then, he lied. He was so cavalier in his facts that he forgot about published pictures of himself on the fairway, more than two months beyond the "unforgettable day" when he no longer felt it appropriate for the "commander-in-chief" to be at play during a war.

The phrase "spitting mad" is on Frodo's lips. Frodo knows that some, dear reader, who delight in his stories, may be taken aback by the visceral fervor which Frodo allows to pass this night. Frodo is truly angry for the damage that this Incomparable Moron has done to this, the last great "castle on a hill." Our collective wealth, our safety, our very reputation, have all been put to risk by he who truly does not understand the immense harm he has done.

Frodo knows one thing, if the Incomparable Moron wants to go through the rest of his life with that beak, he'd better be able to out-run Frodo. If Frodo should catch him, rest assured dear reader, the first word out of his mouth would be the only one that exited over teeth.

Another of the rules of life would bite the dust. Gandhi never met George W. Bush.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:45 PM EDT

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Tuesday, May 13, 2008

She Works Hard For Her Money, So You'd Better Treat Her Right
Mood:

special
Topic: "Dorothy Rose" (4)

It has been a year since the loss of Galadriel. Her only daughter yesterday gave birth to the grand-daughter of whom she had dreamed. It was a joyous, yet stricken, Boromir who called to Samwise with the news.

Galadriel hovered, unseen, smiling, touching the hearts of all those who knew she was in that room. This Frodo truly believes, if nothing else.

Boromir has sold all of his cattle, including the one he named for Sam. His farm is up for sale, and there is another, who waits for Boromir when he is ready. Frodo knows that, soon, Boromir will go to her. That is what Galadriel would want. That is what Boromir needs. Frodo knows Boromir will return often, but there will not be time for old warriors to gather when grandfathers hold angels. The Fellowship will grow that much smaller.

Makes the rest of the news seem kind of unimportant, doesn't it?

Welcome Dorothy Rose, my but you must have your mothers' eyes! Your heart, it is said, will always belong to daddy.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:51 PM EDT

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Sunday, May 11, 2008

Go Ahead And Hate Your Neighbor, Go Ahead And Cheat a Friend
Mood:

d'oh
Topic: "They're He-ear" (4)

Frodo can sometimes be the contrarian to the complete and absolute consternation of the Fellowship. Frodo, for one, does not want to see the struggle for the Democratic Presidential nomination come to a premature end. In fact, Frodo may be the only Hobbit who, at this moment, wants to see the internecine struggle go all the way to the last possible legal second. Frodo is also confident that when all others consider his reasoning, the process will continue unabated.

There are four good reasons why all of the collective attention in Middle Earth needs to remain transfixed on Hillary and Barack. The four reasons are Anna Nicole, Lindsay, Paris, and Brittany.

Slowly this day, Frodo began to notice references to the late and unlamented on the black-and-white. Now that the nominating process is beginning to lose some of its' "news du jour" luster, it is increasingly probable that the talking heads will now return to that which plagued us all before the Iowa Caucuses. What else, pray tell, can dominate every cable news show that Nancy Grace hasn't already spread-eagled on the operating room table of forensic voyeurism? Frodo fears that soon we will hear that Anna Nicole has been spotted, alive, on the beach at Ipanema.

It was learned today that, aaargggh, Brittany will receive additional court-sponsored time with her children. It will, Frodo predicts, probably mean that the children have now seen their last pair of underpants.

Frodo is frightened of Paris (better dubbed "Moscow Motel Six" by friend Merry) and Lindsay, working in tandem. They might actually miss a turn off Mulholland Drive, and keep going until they run out of gas right in the middle of the Shire. This would be the point at which Frodo would find himself in complete agreement with Lou Dobbs, and require that our borders be secured against improper immigration.

These are not idle fears, dear reader. After all, the most interesting thing about the John McCain campaign is just how much Cindy looks like Paris.

Frodo notices little things like that.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:49 PM EDT

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Thursday, May 8, 2008

I'm Givin' You a Big Bouquet of Roses
Mood:

lyrical
Topic: "Second of Two" (4)

Bilbo will cry a little this evening, because a mellow baritone who could mix a little country, a little folk, and a little rock will no longer add to the more than 145 songs which entertained parts of three generations. For this reason, Frodo will break precedent and briefly eulogize the "Tennessee Plowboy," as the second of what must surely be three who pass in succession. Eddy Arnold died today, just days short of his 90th birthday, and only two months after his wife of 66 years.

Frodo, during the loneliest time in his life, saw Eddy Arnold in concert, and every song seemed to reach out and speak to his aching heart. Frodo truly wanted to make the world go away, and to have all of its' burdens removed from his shoulders. Frodo wanted so desperately to know what someone else was doing in his world. Frodo could stare into the empty night sky and actually hear the lonesome cattle call.

The depths of Frodo's depression were answered by the mournful reminders that suffering is something known to all. Music is not just a celebration of good times, rather it is a chronicle of the joys and the sadness which are a part of the times we know. As clearly as Eddy Arnold could define Frodo's lament, he must have pulled the very heartstrings of people of Bilbo's time, of whom there are now so few.

The genius of Chet Atkins produced the application of strings to the whippoorwill voice of Eddy Arnold, giving solace to every lover who has ever pined alone. It is difficult for Frodo to accept that one who has always been there, will no longer be. It is, he knows, the art that lives on, that speaks to those who remember, and to those trying to forget.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:01 PM EDT

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