Mood:  surprised

Today, Frodo feels a little bit like a Cop in Cambridge.  With the absolute best of intentions, and thinking that he was doing the right thing, he ended up in a brine jar.  As a point of reference only, before we begin this nights tale, let us take note of the fact that Frodo, personally, is rated among the top 1% by all the credit rating agencies.  It reflects both a sense of accomplishment, and a sense of pride, to the industrious nature of our Hobbit friend.

Some months ago, Sam convinced Frodo that the residence in the Shire required some repairs and upgrades.  Despite the collapse of Frodo's business income, sufficient capital remained in savings to take advantage of the favorable offers gathered by Sam.  After much analysis, Sam selected a contractor who would perform certain services, and who would necessarily sub-contract some tasks in order to complete the contract.  Frodo observed as workers came and went, noting that many were Hispanic, and that progress seemed to be satisfactory.

When the work was completed, Sam paid the contractor in full and the Hobbits commenced their enjoyment in the refurbishments made to the Shire.  A few days later, one of the Hispanic employees of a sub-contractor knocked on Frodo's door, and told Frodo and Sam that he had not been paid by the sub-contractor.  In the presence of the Hispanic employee of the sub-contractor, Sam placed a telephone call to the contractor to alert him to the fact that one of his sub-contractors had evidently not fulfilled his obligation to his workers.  Sam And Frodo explained to the sub-contractor that they had fulfilled their responsibility, but would continue to follow up, simply to be fair to a hard-working guy who seemed to be the innocent victim of circumstances beyond his control.  Both Sam and Frodo were offended by the fact that the poor guy at the bottom of the food-chain was suffering because the money was not flowing as promised.

Several months passed, and nothing else was heard.  Yesterday, Sam called Frodo at Mount Doom, very upset, to tell him that a legal document had arrived in the mail, addressed to Sam and Frodo, informing them that a "mechanic's lien" had been filed with the County by the Hispanic employee of the sub-contractor against their residence in the Shire.  The letter was delivered through the US Mail in a hand-addressed envelope from said guy at the bottom of the food chain.

Frodo and Sam swung into action and Sam raised the roof with both the contractor and the sub-contractor.  At this point in time, it is now known that the Hispanic employee of the sub-contractor was paid, but that he felt it was insufficcient to meet the actual expense he incurred.  The sub-contractor alleges that the employee has not had sufficient work in the interim, and is using this avenue in order to garner enough money to "feed his family."  In short, the contractor is taking an Insurance Bond to the County in order to have the "mechanic's lien" negated, documenting in Court that Frodo and Sam have paid their debt, and that their residence should be removed from the onerous lien.  It will be required of Frodo that he monitor the credit rating agencies in order to assure himself that there is no negative impact on his sterling credit standing.

During the course, Frodo found himself using invective that was ethnically prejudicial.  He realized also that he was in the comparable position of the landholder who had been accused of mistreatment of those who worked in his behalf while harvesting his cotton.  He was, also, not unlike the Cop who thought he was doing his job, and that race was the furtherest thing from his mind when he busted that Harvard Professor for Disorderly Conduct.  Frodo also realized that the "little guy" was just doing everything he could to "feed his family."

Frodo does not often show the conservative stripe that runs along the seams of his trousers.  Tonight however, if that little jerk walked by the Shire, he'd better watch out for the motorcar that is bearing down on him from behind.  Frodo has also learned that he, and his public reputation, is completely vulnerable to the unscrupulous, and that he must increase his wary ways, and sacrifice his instinctive trust in fellow inhabitants of Middle Earth.  Frodo, it seems, was the one who truly acted "stupidly."

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:08 PM EDT

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Mood:  crushed out

In 1941, Harry S. Truman sought out General George C. Marshall with the specific intent of volunteering for the United States Army.  Marshall told him at the time that he was "too damn old" for active duty.  Perhaps, muses Frodo, it was that conversation which got Truman to start thinking about health and wellness, if you will.  In any event, come 1948, it was President Harry S. Truman who said Congress could enact a Health Progam in America "anytime it felt like it." 

Barack Obama looks older than he did just six months ago, and it is very obvious that  the Health Program endorsed by his predecessor sixty years ago is going to be the product of a Congress that feels the need, now.  This evening Obama singled out the 139 proposals submitted by Republican lawmakers which have been absorbed into the draft bills coming out of the various Congressional Committees in recent days.  He also railed frequently on the "misinformation" from the political opposition, as well as the familiarity fear that drives a confused public toward the inertia of inaction.  He did so, not because it was a sign of political expediency to lead with the foremost orator in American life today, but because, like Harry S. Truman, he knew that he had to engage in the great struggle before him.

Frodo recalls the countless efforts to "reform" Social Security, and the dire predictions for the American economy should "reform" not take place before the Frodos, and Hobbits like him, wheel around the pools and paths in Arizona, Florida, and  other locations without State Income Tax.  Today we know that "Social Security reform" means Medicare and associated benefits, whose growing revenue requirements seem more massive than the miles traveled by the now ancient spacecraft Voyager.  President Obama made it abundantly clear that "Health Care Reform" changes the diametrics, be it in human or economic terms.  

Despite the allegations that "too much, too fast" has characterized the first six months, Obama reviewed the economic morass which he "inherited," (although true, Frodo wishes he would let the Incomparable Moron simply slip into anonymous ignominy) and concluded that he had to put all of his fingers and toes into the holes in the dike, simultaneously.  Frodo is pretty sure that the day will come when many more will realize the degree of benefit they reaped from the tireless effort to this point, and in the days to come.

Frodo is grateful that Barack Obama was not "too damn old" when he volunteered, and that he was born in the United States of America.

Frodo also wonders what would've happened had Marshall taken Truman up on his offer?

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:48 PM EDT

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Mood:  amorous

"Munich Police Department, Sergeant Frodo here."

"Yes, this is Susanne Klatten, and I wish to report that I'm being blackmailed."

"I see.  Do you know who it is that is blackmailing you?"

"They just called, and identified themselves as the 'Deutschen Volksgruppen Autofahrts'.  I did not recognize the voice, nor am I familiar with such an organization."

"And?"

"They demanded money and an SUV, or they would release some secretly recorded videotapes which would be potentially damaging to me."

"I beg your pardon, did you say they demanded money, and an SUV?"

"That's correct.  In fact, they asked for a BMW X5 sport utility vehicle, as well as 800,000 Euros."

"The money demand is anticipated surely, but do you have any idea why they asked for a specific automobile?"

"I am Susanne Klatten, and it was my father who founded BMW.  I suppose the blackmailers figured that I have access to both money and motorcars."

"I see.  So, can you explain what it is that is on these videotapes?"

"Well, they allege that they have secretly recorded lovemaking."

"I assume, Fraulein (?) Klatten, that you are not alone in these alleged videotapes.  Is the alleged partner one person only?"

"Yes, with me."

"Who, if you don't mind me asking, is also in the alleged videotapes?"

"His name is Hans Sgarbi."

"Is he local?  I'll need his address and telephone number."

"He is from Switzerland."

"You said, 'with me', does that mean that there is something else that might be important in the videotapes?"

"They said that there are scenes of others, mostly American politicians, also in compromising positions."

"Do you know those people?"

"Oh, I don't associate with them, they were all such petty men, and the women were trashy, especially the one from Argentina.  I know some of their names, I suppose."

"Fraulein, where were these alleged videotapes made?"

"In the United States.  In Washington."

"Well why are you being singled out, do you think, by the blackmailers, if they have politicans in compromising positions?"

"Oh, they said they were also contacting all of the parties involved, and making demands on each of them, and that they would send the videotapes to the Italian press if anyone fails to meet their demands."

"Is that so?  Would Mr. Sgarbi be familiar with any of the other parties in the alleged videotapes?"

"Yes, he would, he lives in that residence with all the others, when he is in Washington?"

"Are you saying that all of the scenes took place in the same location?"

"That's correct."

"In Washington?"

"Yes."

"And that some, or all of the participants, except you of course, lived there?"

"That's correct."

"Can you give me a few of the names of those who resided there, and the address, if you remember it?"

"One was named Sanford, and there was a Pickering, and someone called Ensign, and the silly one, Zach Wamp.  Can you believe that name?  The townhouse is on what is called 'C' Street."

"Ahem.  And you say thast the blackmailers have videotape of all these individuals, as well as yourself, in 'trysts', if you will?"

"That is what they told me."

"What did you tell them?"

"That I would pay."

"What about the SUV?"

"I asked them if they desired a specific color."

"What, if anything, did they say about the others being blackmailed, and what their response was likely to be?"

"If I remember correctly, they said that all of them wanted to arrange payments over time, except for one, whose parents would pay."

"His parents?"

"That's correct."

"How did the telephone call end, what did they tell you to do?"

"They told me to arrange for the money, in cash, and the SUV, and that they would call in a couple of days with further instructions."

"Was that all?"

"The call ended with the voice on the other end simply saying 'Praise Jesus'.

"Praise Jesus?"

"Praise Jesus."

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:41 AM EDT

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Mood:  special

6;30 PM, five nights a week, in black-and-white, the student lounge was packed.  Hobbits of all shape and size listened to his narrative while they scanned the pictures for friends, themselves.  It was generally quiet, although pictures of Westmoreland or McNamara were too much for anyone with a brain, or a heart.  Through it all, "the most trusted man in America," reporting the news.  When he ended the broadcast, as he did nearly every evening, the throng moved to cafeterias or study carrels, and if the news was bad enough, across the street to a bar.  Frodo will never forget that it was in silence that they moved, every single night, as if everyhting that needed to be said had just been said.

Many years later, Frodo was having sweet trout for luncheon with the President of a large German Bank on Peachtree Street, not far from the Shire.  While they were talking, Frodo noticed the grey mane enter the restaurant and join a table of acquaintances by the window.  "Herr Frodo," said the President of the large German bank, "who is that person?"

"That Sir," said Frodo, "is Walter Cronkite."

"Pardon me Mr. Frodo," but who is this Walter Cronkite?"

Frodo is rarely speechless, but trying to explain just who Walter Cronkite was, to the President of a large German Bank, would be like explaining the game of baseball to Mick, the Wonder Dog.

Frodo simply said, "You see here Sir, the most trusted man in America."

Frodo is not sure if his guest ever understood what Frodo meant, but Frodo sincerely hopes that this evening, wherever he may be, that that President of a large German Bank turns to someone he knows and says, "That was the most trusted man in America."

He went with Frodo to the Moon, and he wiped his eyes with him when the news from Dallas was final.   Through it all, he carried the same message, and the Hobbit would walk away in silence, knowing, or searching.      

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:23 PM EDT

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Mood:  a-ok

The Atlanta Journal & Constitution asked two public figures the same question in order to elicit an opinion that was either pro or con to the issue at hand.  Representative Jack Kingston (R-GA) who is continually re-elected by the same geographical community that gave us Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, answered "No" to the query, "Is the $787 Billion stimulus working.?"

Representative Kingston said, in part,  "Walk down any street and ask a local business owner 'how's business?'  You'll find that from pet shops to contractors and real estate agents to insurance salesmen, sales are down and times are tight. . . If government spending was the answer, we'd be in great shape, but it's not.  Congress should focus on reducing the cost of doing business through selected small business tax cuts and regulatory relief. . ."

Frodo started to wad up the paper and toss it into the trash can, muttering about the same old sorry answers from Republicans, but decided against it.  Instead, he asked himself, why not take the Congressman up on it, and survey the impact, if any, of the stimulus?  After all, the President said to take dissenting opinions into consideration and to recognize that even a Republican from Savannah might be right once in his life.

The Men of Gondor visited a Sewage Treatment Plant currently under construction in the northern suburbs of Atlanta.  The facility is scheduled to go on-line within a week.  The design firm is a privately held company by the name of Brown & Caldwell.  Frodo has no business association with the firm, although one of the Men of Gondor is an employee of the firm, and conducted Frodo and his friends on the tour.  The gargantuan task of design, coordinate, and implement a facility of this magnitude is a tribute to the efforts of Brown & Caldwell.  One cannot help but marvel at the patience and professionalism exhibited in  public meetings, the hiring of sub-contractors, and the multiplicitous tasks which this company confronts in winning a job, and successfully completing the assignment.

In sum, the facility will produce clean, potable water for a part of Middle Earth that cannot get enough.  The process requires the separation of all waste matter, both solid and gaseous, from the water that is returned into the Chattahoochee River.  At present, the solid "sludge" which is captured in the process is loaded into specially-designed trucks and hauled to nearby landfills.  Being engineers, Brown & Caldwell have been analyzing the sludge, in order to determine if there is a higher use of the solid matter than simply returning it to the earth.

Brown & Caldwell currently is a customer of Georgia Power.  Everything from lightbulbs to back-up generators at all similar facilities are powered by the good works of Georgia Power.  Brown & Caldwell has now devised a method to use methane gas, produced by burning the sludge in special ovens, to provide all of the power that is required to provide electricity to plants such as these.  Frodo, upon hearing this, immediately raised his hand to inquire about the application of this technology for stimulus funding since the obvious benefits to reduce the costs of these facilities and to lessen the demand for conventional electric power seem tailor-made for the intent of the program.

Frodo learned, to his chagrin, that the concept had been in development for several years, and the theoreticals have all been completed.  However, the availability of stimulus funding means that Brown & Caldwell can begin to implement this "sludge technology" a full THREE YEARS ahead of the timetable that existed before the stimulus was approved.  In other words, probably the very next facility they design and build will produce its own power, from poop.

It is Frodo's fond desire to shine a flashlight into either of Mr. Kingston's ears, in order to prove that , once again, there is nothing between them.

Pass it on, dear reader, the next time some "dimwit" tells you the stimulus is not working, tell them you can prove it is.  Business may, indeed, suck, but as long as there are companies like Brown & Caldwell, with brains and know-how, we'll be jes fine. 

Now, if we can just find a way to use the waste material put out by Representative Kingston?     

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:12 PM EDT

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Mood:  surprised

Congress Heights is a section of Washington, D.C. abandoned by all but the poorest of the poor many years ago.  Not unlike Washington itself, the area is overwhelmingly black, crime-ridden, and bearing a per capita income that would be in triple figures at best were it not for governmental largesse.  The flight of the white middle class from Congress Heights parallels the post-War growth of the suburban home and the white picket fence.  For a variety of reasons, certainly including the costs of transportation and real estate itself, there is evidence of a return and a revival of center city neighborhoods in many parts of Middle Earth.  Surprising it is for Frodo to find the United States Government itself standing in the way, and threatening the existence of true urban pioneers.

A pair of American bald eagles have built a nest in the nation's capital for the first time in 63 years.  The National Park Service has confirmed the existence of the nest in that section of town known as Congress Heights.  The disclosure would not have been made public at all until the Department of Homeland Obscurity announced its decision to build its mega-headquarters in the wooded area which surrounds the nest.  The agency has many and varied reasons for the project, but many other people feel that the inevitable result will be a flight to a different location, returning the District of Columbia to a haven for eagles of the concrete statue variety, alone.

Eagles are shy birds that prefer forest and farmland, and their acceptance of a panorama of apartment buildings, a national airport, and the screaming jets of Bolling Air Force Base, certainly signal an unpredictable environmental acceptance of peaceful ccoexistence.  The area of the nest is known as Shepherd Parkway, and it is part of the remains of a Civil War era defensive fort constructed amid a ravine that is deep enough to shield the young.  The Anacostia and Potomac rivers, both of which were once almost polluted beyond redemption, meet nearby, providing a substantial source of fish for the "urban eagles."  The eagle population that was nearly driven to extinction seems to have forgiven us, and is doing its best to join us in the reclamation of our great cities.  "Something is happening in nature out there that we can only speculate about," said Craig Koppie of the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, to the Los Angeles Times.  "They are becoming more tolerant of us."

There is no doubt that Congress Heights would benefit mightily by the jobs, the improvements in the infrastructure, and the return of a diverse population to the neighborhood.  There is however, a greater risk.  That risk being people having to do the job alone, without the assistance of those winged homesteaders known by the Park Rangers as "DC-07-01."     

To Frodo, they are, and will always be known by what he imagines would be their Secret Service identification, that being, of course "EOTUS."

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:27 PM EDT

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Mood:  lazy

Frodo often composes at the keyboard, generally with no sense of where he's going, or what he's going to do when he gets there.  This evening, as he logged on to his service provider, he noted that 166 "hits" had taken place on this day by those attempting to access the wit and wisdom of the Hobbit.  Curiously he noted also that a cumulative number for the month now totaled 6,279.  Since today has been the first day of a new month, it struck Frodo as a bit quixotic, if not inexplicable, that such a variance would exist.

Frodo multiplied 166 by 30 days in June to see if the product might represent an average approximating 6,279.  Not even close.

From the other room, Frodo could hear that the Gallant Braves had just completed a thrashing of the Filthydelphia Fillies, by a score of 11 to 1, so Frodo took the run differential between the two teams, multiplied that figure by the value of pi (2.14, if memories-all terrible-served him correctly), and multiplied that figure by 30 days in June.  Still not in the right neighborhood.

Fiona and Mick, the Wonder Dog, are both 12 years old.  In dog years they are each approximately 84, so doubling that figure gives us almost exactly the number of "hits" on a given day, ergo all we have to do now is to extrapolate the figure of 6,279 following a similar computational theorem.

Dividing 6,279 by the number of days in a given year (365.25, not forgetting leap year) works out to about 17.25, which we can assume to be the number of "hits" each hour.  We can, of course, assume almost anything.  17.25 x 24 equals a figure which doesn't seem to relate to anything, thereby proving that postulate.

Frodo wonders if this is how Marie Curie got her start? 

If nothing else, this little exercise has proven Frodo's original assumption about the results produced by a blank mind upon a fertile keyboard.

Frodo is going to take a few days off now, surprising almost no one.  If it should rain, and the fish won't bite, perhaps he will entertain from a mountaintop in Tennessee.  Otherwise he will simply complain about the use of Communist Chinese explosive devices on the Fourth of July.

Don't we hear nary a "Hurry back, Frodo?"

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:38 PM EDT

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Mood:  chillin'

Frodo turned on the black-and-white in time to hear the announcers discussing the status of the proposed starting pitcher for the Gallant Braves in their scheduled duel with the Red Stockings from Boston.  The young phenom awakened with a scratchy throat and the early symptoms of the flu bug that seems to be disguising itself as either something porcine, or the product of the aedes inhabitants of backyard birdbaths and swimming pools.  The discussion being that the young phenom may be too sick to pitch.

Frodo has a scratchy throat.  While strolling through the Gardens of the Shire with Fiona and Mick, the Wonder Dog, Frodo felt light-headed, and could not seem to control a cough rising from beneath his breastbone.  Frodo certainly did not feel as if he could go a full nine innings. 

The regimen that followed included products from many of the major pharmaceutical companies, all of whom are apparently aware of Frodo's support for President Obama's Healthcare Reforms.  In the end, Frodo simply sprawled on the couch and watched an entire afternoon's baseball game from start to finish.  By his own count Frodo expended approximately 12 calories throughout the day.  The rest, he knows, was necessary, but he still feels, if you'll pardon the vernacular, like whipped shit.  What makes it worse though is this guilt about letting a day go to waste, and without exercise, to waist.

Frodo, as most know, is an advocate of taking each day and enjoying it to the fullest.  Failing to accomplish anything, or to expend absolutely none of his kinetic energy makes Frodo feel as if he has let himself down. 

The Gallant Braves, and the rookie phenom, were victorious.  Frodo tuned in to the Discovery Channel betweeen innings, and learned that all of Siberia was once a hotbed of volcanic activity, and was truly a "gateway to Hell."  Soon, "Law and Order: Criminal Intent" will come on, and Frodo will match wits with either Jeff Goldblum or Vincent Dionoffrio.  Thereafter he partakes of the grape kool-aid which calms his cough and knocks him out for the entire night.

Which makes him wonder why he doesn't just drink some of that stuff on nights when he feels fine, but can't seem to fall asleep?

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 7:29 PM EDT

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Mood:  celebratory

Frodo introduced his late friend Ogal Preston Crews into the acquaintance of the Fellowship quite some time ago.  When "Pres" died, a bachelor, he left the bulk of his estate to friends, to charities, and to the College of the Shire.  That was, however, not enough for the gibbous personality who spent part of his career teaching Remedial English to US Navy personnel while serving on an Aircraft Carrier in the North Atlantic.  For that need, as of this past weekend, the good people of Fincastle, Virginia, will have good reason to regularly give thanks to Frodo's old friend.

The Ogal Preston Crews Memorial Sewage Treatment Plant went officially on-line.  Frodo believes that a $10,000 donation is what the State of Virginia asked for when "Pres" inquired about how much it would cost for him to be identified as the namesake benefactor of this facility.  Attending the naming ceremonies were dignitaries from throughout the Southeast, including the Past-President of the College of the Shire.  Dr. Charles Sydnor asked each of the attendees, in his dedicatory remarks, to remember our old friend fondly, "and to flush one from the crapper."

Ronald Reagan, as George Gipp, would have laughed, as did Frodo.  Frodo laughed through a longing tear for an old friend as he reflected on the enduring value of a good sense of humor.   Frodo wonders if a Hobbits' name might some day appear as the benefactor on a public facility dedicated to repairing busted zippers on the trousers of elected officials.  There appears to be a need.    

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:58 PM EDT

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Mood:  lyrical

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

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

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

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

Exit, moonwalk, stage left.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:50 PM EDT

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