Mood:  not sure

At one time in earlier days, Frodo had dreams of the Foreign Service.  James Bond kind of foreign service that is, you know, shaken but not stirred.  Once he got serious about his future, and realized his true obligations, he never lost interest in "foreign policy," and has prided himself in often being a source of information for people who don't seem to let ignorance be an obstacle to the formation of opinion. 

Frodo once listened intently as a pilot for a large international airline went on and on about the future of Puerto Rico.  Since he flew into San Juan regularly he felt that qualified him to tell everyone else how to solve the problems at hand.  He felt, strongly, that the United States should simply give Puerto Rico their independence, since that was what the people wanted.  Frodo, after a sip of his wine glass, asked the gentleman if he spoke Spanish.  Frodo already knew the answer.  Frodo asked the gentleman if he was familiar with a particular political party in Puerto Rico.  Frodo already knew the answer.  Frodo then proceeded to explain, succinctly, to the gentleman that the fallacy in his suggestion was that he was assuming that the Puerto Rican people desired either Statehood or Independence.  Frodo informed him that approximately one-third of those people wanted to keep their present situation as a Commonwealth.  The result being that the Puerto Rican people were divided three ways, not two, in terms of what they felt was best for their own futures.

Frodo has made it a point to never again fly that particular airline.

Germany has more invested in the southeastern states of the United States of America, than the entire investment of the European Union in China.  Frodo knows that the motorcar manufacturers, and the real estate investors, and the chemical processors have made substantial investments all around the Shire.  The Germans, and the French, and the Dutch, and the Italians, and all the rest, have not found it advisable to build cars, establish plants, or buy real estate in China.  Nor are they buying tennis shoes, cheap textiles, or electronic games and toys.  Yet, the Chinese maintain a huge trade surplus, while the US of A continues accumulating a trade deficit.  It follows, logically, that the US of A does have an appetite for tennis shoes, computer games, and t-shirts.

Frodo is making a point here, dear reader, so your indulgence please.  His point being that the $4.00 average cost-per-gallon of gasoline, which will of course be outdated by the time this treatise is completed, is a reflection of the increased demand for petroleum products by countries who are cash rich(er) than the US of A, like China, specifically.

Frodo has a suggestion, taking political and economic reality for granted, and would like to submit it for your consideration, dear reader.  Why not simply ask the Chinese how plans are coming along for the Beijing Olympics?  Tell them, in so many words, that the US of A is really looking forward to kicking their butts competitively, and that thousands of Americans are planning to visit, while millions watch on TV.  That is, of course, if we are able to overcome our current economic malaise.

The word, dear reader, is leverage; oft used by Thomas Friedman, and almost everybody else who has no faith whatsoever in the Bush Administration.  Would it not seem logical, suggests Frodo, to simply point out to the Chinese that the current valuation of their currency to that of the dollar is out-of-whack, and that the situation has become so severe that the US of A may have to stay home?

Once the tar-stained fingers lit another cigarette, and beads of sweat formed on foreheads all across China, a suggestion could be offered to turn the tide even quicker than an oil tanker could reverse course in the Strait of Hormuz.  "Why not," suggests Ambassador Frodo, "ask your Treasury people to get together with our Treasury people, and set a new valuation to the dollar?"  Frodo would offer that decreasing the Chinese currency by, say, 50%, would mean that the Chinese would have to pay much, much more for petroleum products, and that would most likely mean that they would have to reduce their demand.  Ergo, the price of something with lessened demand falls.  At the same time, the US of A would be paying a whole lot less for the t-shirts and frozen catfish imported from China.

Should the suggestion not be warmly received, it might be a good idea to start planning for a good-sized track meet in someplace closer to home.

Foreign policy and business go hand-in-hand.  You certainly should have expected a Harvard MBA to know that, as opposed to having to go and unsuccessfully kiss the ass of some sheik of the burning sand, again.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:30 PM EDT

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Mood:  lazy

Rabbits have a rough time in the Shire.  The tasty flora are a temptation worth the risk however, so the night time visitors grow bolder despite the danger, and they are now visible almost any time of the day.  Hawks use the area as a flyway, and coyotes patrol beyond the fences with a measure of regularity.  Crossing nearby lanes ends the chase for love-starved suitors from time-to-time.  Beau Neau has not pursued an adult as yet, but has accounted for the premature demise of several babies.  Fiona is instinctively drawn to hidden nests, and some sort of inherited programming requires that her jaws abruptly separate life from the act of discovery.  Frodo has very mixed feelings about all of this, and it has to do with the great anthropomorphic novel by Richard Adams, "Watership Down."  

Frodo gives human qualities to rabbits, much as he does to the chimpanzees of Jane Goodall. To Frodo, the beauty of the rabbit is exceeded only by his simple lack of foresight.  Despite the apparent wisdom of an occasional leader in the warren, the majority of rabbits seem prepared only to escape, but with no idea where.  On several occasions, Mick, the Wonder Dog, has flushed a rabbit from the underbrush only to see the play object-scamper directly toward Frodo; perhaps sensing that Frodo is a gentler soul and slow of foot.

Frodo can occasionally identify a particular rabbit by sight.  He tries not to do so, simply because the mortality of the subjects is limited.  A female, who has produced multiple offspring, with almost universal futility, was struck by a motorcar, probably driven by a newspaper deliveryperson otherwise distracted, just the other morning.  She was so soft, Frodo was glad only that the end had been apparently quick, and suffering was minimal.  Death is a constant among those who visit the Shire, but losing something so soft and beautiful cannot pass unnoticed.

Frodo will miss the little lady, and cannot help but hope that another will soon take her place, even if it means sacrificing a few flowers along the way.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:59 PM EDT

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Mood:  surprised

While preparing for this morning's trek up Mount Doom, Frodo was ruminating through wheat and barley product, searching for raisins, and listening to Don Imus discuss current events with Tim Russert.  RFDTV connects to Frodo's breakfast table via satellite, and the radio in Frodo's motorcar is tuned to ABC out of New York City, so that he can catch an entire interview if it merits attention.  This morning Tim Russert said something that truly surprised Frodo, and brought a sense of perspective to the enormity of the events of the past few days.

Russert told Imus that he had gone to the Pentagon to interview former Secretary of State Colin Powell.  Although he did not indicate the date, it had to be no later than 2004.  During the interview, he said, he felt the effect of too much coffee, and asked Secretary Powell to excuse him for a moment, and to direct him to a Men's Room.  Secretary Powell responded by telling Russert to simply step into the hall and walk until he saw an open lavatory door.  "There are, you know," Powell said, "two, everywhere you see one."  Russert paused, and asked Powell what he meant by that, but realized the answer as soon as he asked the question.

The Pentagon was designed and built with separate bathrooms for blacks and whites. 

The Pentagon, the largest office building in the world, and the bastion of command for the most powerful military in the history of mankind, was built to accommodate segregation of the races.  Frodo, not unlike both Russert and Imus, was stunned by the revelation.  "Imagine," thought Frodo, "that there are a myriad of young black men and women buried within spitting distance of that building, who died in defense of our country, and they couldn't even piss in the same room with George C. Marshall, or any other soldier who just happened to be white."

Jeff Greenfield gave a memorial report on tonight's "CBS Evening News," recalling his experience at age 24, 40 years ago today, as a speechwriter for Robert Frances Kennedy.   When the last light flickered off the fallen body, held by a young Asian waiter, Katie Courick asked Greenfield if it didn't seem like such a long time ago.

"It seems like yesterday," he said.

There is so much to remember.  There is so much to forget.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:54 PM EDT

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Mood:  special

In the movie "The Return of the King," Aragorn appears on horseback as the army of Middle Earth stands before the Black Gate.  At the same moment, Frodo and Sam battle Gollum above the fires of Mount Doom, in order to destroy the Ring.  Sauron and all his evil forces are massed against the Hobbits, the Men of Gondor, the Riders of Rohan, Elves, Dwarves, and the badly outnumbered fighters from all of Middle Earth.  Aragorn knows that he must buy time for the Hobbit, but the cost will be great, and he must somehow inspire, and lead.  He calls to those who recognize the danger they face and the battle they must fight, with his sword aloft, and his steed in stride, he proclaims "For Frodo."

Perhaps Aragorn was not the strongest, or the most experienced, of those in the Fellowship who gathered with Frodo on his quest.  It was he, however, who picked up the broken Sword and forged, time-after-time, victories afield or in court.  It was not without cost that he rode toward the Black Gate ahead of all the soldiers who followed him against that which challenged Middle Earth.  His ride was, perhaps, in a word, providential.

On the day that Barack Obama will speak before the Democratic Party Convention in Denver, Providence has decided that it will be on the forty-fifth anniversary of a speech given by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  In that speech, King stated that "I have a dream today."  He went on to say that he dreamed of a day when the content of character will determine judgment, as opposed to the color of skin.  Frodo could go on and on about words which have driven him over many obstacles, and guided him when he felt lost and alone.  It was as if King's words were meant specifically, for Frodo.  King, perhaps, was giving Frodo time to overcome Gollum, and to destroy the Ring.

Aragorn never speaks the words "For Frodo" in Lord Tolkiens' final book.  The addition of the verbiage in the cinematic presentation is editorial license.  Lord Tolkien, had he felt the need for an inspirational moment, would have probably given Aragorn the words "For Middle Earth."  It is striking however, given the amazing turnabout and results of this particular election, concluding in a concentrated time-frame, that it corresponds to the anniversary of a real "Return of the King." 

Providential.  A very interesting word, and one that Frodo will hold close abreast as events pass before his eyes.  Some things, it seems, are almost meant to be, and coincidence is a word easily dismissed.  Perhaps we are but actors, moved about on a board as pawns and knights.  Frodo may indeed be written into the drama to stand for those smaller, weaker, but ever-willing to serve the common good.  The game will be determined by those who believe, and who join together. 

Frodo will take notes.    

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:37 PM EDT

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Mood:  hungry

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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Mood:  chillin'

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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Mood:  not sure

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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Mood:  mischievious

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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Mood:  caffeinated

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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Mood:  party time!

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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