Mood:  accident prone

The telephone rang during dinner-time, making the caller almost as welcome as a flatulent crewman on a submarine.  When Sam played the recorder back some hours later, the message conveyed a communication from "The Power Company" via the conveniently dubbed "Robo Call."   The very helpful voice thus embedded in the technological firewalls at the Shire explained that a service disruption would commence at 11:30 PM on the First of October, and continue until 5:30 AM on the Second.  Further, the message explained, it was necessary because the Transformer serving the local area needed repairs.  Now Frodo is well-aware that all the cables servicing the Shire and its environs are underground, but he also knew that frequent power outages were due to lightning strikes upon said Transformer.  In truth, said Transformer seems to attract nature's assaults, and Frodo was thus pleased that the "Power Company" was taking such initiative.  Perhaps Government is not "the problem," but is actually sometimes pretty darn efficient.

The day before the service outage was to occur, Sam happened to be discussing the matter with a few of the neighbors, including Tom Bombadil.  Surprisingly, none of the neighbors were aware of the scheduled power outage.  Sam gave each of them the details, and then proceeded to prepare the candles and flashlights which would guide the inhabitants of the Shire back-and-forth to the facilities during periods of unquenchable darkness.

The morning after, both Sam & Frodo noted that there had been no apparent power outage at all (mainly because all of the accursed flashing digital clocks in the Shire continued to operate without signaling such an occurrence).  Tom Bombadil stopped by and spoke with Sam, after Frodo had departed for Mount Doom, inquiring about the absence of any power outage in his abode.  When Sam pled ignorance, Tom wandered off, in a muttering huff.

That afternoon, Frodo & Sam took Fiona and Mick, the Wonder Dog, in the motorcar in order to weekend at Lake Lovey.  Upon their arrival, Frodo noted a sign at the gate, reminding residents of the planned power outage, which had indeed taken place the previous morning.  Frodo & Sam laughed over the fact that the "Robo Call" had come to their residence at the Shire, warning of the power outage which was actually at Lake Lovey.  Frodo promised he would seek out Tom Bombadil upon returning to the Shire, and laugh with him over the unfortuante FUBAR.

Tom wasted little time when he noted the return of Frodo's motorcar to the Shire.  Before Frodo could get a word in edgewise, Tom began a recitation about his telephone call to the "Power Company," and his subsequent cold blast thrown to the management of the local utility.  In fact, reported Tom, the flustered supervisors, initially denying that any such plan even existed, were so embarrassed by Tom's assertions of insensitive incompetence that they agreed to rectify the situation and to oversee such action on the Transformer this coming Thursday. 

Frodo was somewhat surprised.  He also decided not to add any additional confusion to the file.

As he thought about it later, Frodo internally justified his silence by pointing out that certainly some sort of technological update had been planned for the Transformer, and all that took place because of Tom's complaint was a hastening of the work schedule.  It does however, offer counsel to those who complain about dealing with bureaucracy.  It shows that all you have to do is catch them off-guard.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:12 PM EDT

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Mood:  on fire

Nineteen years ago, when he was 15 years old, and living in the State of Florida, William Hawkins had sex with a 12 year-old girl.  He served two years of house arrest, and 10 years on probation.  After relocating to Cobb County, Georgia, Hawkins learned that he was required to register with the County as a Sex Offender.  Failure to do so in a timely manner resulted in a full year in jail.  During that period of time, his wife of five years had relocated to Virginia.  When he was released from jail, he was again placed on probation, and informed that the terms of his probation required him to remain in Cobb County.  William Hawkins officially became homeless.

In Georgia, it is against the law for any "Registered Sex Offender" to live, work, or loiter within 1,000 feet of schools, churches, child care facilities and other areas where children gather.  Upon his release from jail, his Probation Officer handed him a piece of paper with the address of an office park in Cobb County and told him that a congregation of homeless sex offenders were encamped in the woods nearby.  It is, arguably, the only location in the entire County that meets the requirements of the State Law.  The land is the property of the Georgia Department of Transportation.  Mr. Hawkins purchased a tent, and moved in, desperate to meet the continuing terms of his probation.

Mark McKinnon, a "spokesman" for the Georgia DOT, today announced that the homeless sex offenders must vacate the premises by Tuesday.  McKinnon stated, "We don't want to allow anyone to live on our property for liability issues."  Mr. Hawkins has no place to go that will keep him from technically violating the terms of his probation.

Roman Polanski, at age 43, took advantage of, and raped, a 13 year-old girl, 31 years ago.  After pleading guilty to having sex with a minor, he fled the United States in 1978, and continued his career from his residence in France.  During the trial, it was substantiated that Polanski persuaded the child to take off her clothes with a ruse about a photo shoot for a magazine.  Plying her with champagne, he then sodomized her, among other acts.  The child told the police that she had told him to stop, but she did not forcibly resist because she was afraid of Polaanski.

The prosecutors in the Polanski Trial agreed to a plea bargain that would have kept Polanski in jail for 42 days.  Polanski failed to appear for sentencing because he was afraid that the Judge might not honor that agreement, and so he fled the country.  He was recently arrested by Swiss authorities, and is presently fighting extradition.  A plethora of "enlightened artists", including Debra Winger, have argued on behalf of Polanski.

Frodo argues for William Hawkins. 

Frodo respectfully suggests that Roman Polanski be brought to Cobb County, Georgia, for adjudication.  He might want to bring a tent, and a map.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:15 PM EDT

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Mood:  sharp

Frodo remembers the unease upon the countenance of the Governor of Alaska as she attempted to respond to Charlie Gibson of ABC News.  She had absolutely no idea what the "Bush Doctrine" was, and it was unlikely that very many of the tuned-in viewers could have handled the question flawlessly.  What bothered Frodo was that the reaction would have been identical had Gibson referred to the "Monroe Doctrine."  It is a rare moment, indeed, when many Americans can discuss strategy, much less spell it, or pronounce it correctly.

On Saturday, September 26, 2009, President Barack Obama coupled the words which follow.

"My administration has renewed American leadership, and pursued a new era of engagement in which we call upon all nations to live up to their responsibilities. . .We achieved. . . a new commitment to meet common challenges, and real progress in advancing America's national security and economic prosperity."

The "Obama Doctrine," so dubbed by Frodo, is an affirmation of joint responsibility and obligation by the civilized nations of the world in order to cope with unstable governments or unsophisticated leadership.  There is a general recognition that threats may arise from a variety of sources, and that a united response is both diplomatically and militarily desirable.  Unilateral action by any nation, weak or strong, lessens the possibility for peaceful resolution of situations with increasing potential impact on all the peoples of the world.

Briefly, the President indicated his resolve to work with other powerful nations of the world, rather than to act unilaterally, by stopping the implementation of a missile defense shield in Eastern Europe.  The Russians responded by casting a vote, rather than a characteristic Soviet Era veto, with the entire Security Council of the United Nations, making the vote 15-0, in advocating an end to nuclear weapons proliferation.  The Chinese joined in support of the proposal initiated by the current Chair of the Security Council, The United States of America.  Noteworthy was the fact that Barack Obama, personally, chaired the meeting.

The United States followed this action with a public announcement of the existence of a nuclear facility in Iran, which the Iranian President had neglected to mention, and averred that this was a serious flaunting of the agreements for inspection by all signatories to the UN Charter.  The Iranians, in anticipation of this announcement attempted to comply both verbally, and in writing.  The President of the United States, joined at the podium by the Prime Minister of Great Britain, and the President of France, threatened the Iranian Government with consequences that were openly supported by the German Prime Minister, and by the absence of any objections from either Russia or China.

In effect, these nations of the world all turned their missiles in the same direction.

At the same time, the wildcard, Israel, found itself in the position of being put on notice that it would be very unwise for their government to act unilaterally.  Despite their perceptions of threat, the Israelis were being advised that an assault on Israeli sovereignty would not occur with impunity.  Interestingly, during a number of televised interviews Mr. Netanjahu emphasized, and re-emphasized, that "high-level" contact with the Obama Administration took place weekly.  The message had been received.

The forum provided by the United Nations allowed the part and parcel of the American international political strategy to be introduced to all the nations of the world, as well as to demonstrate its potential for dealing with conflict resolution. 

Frodo can't help but be reminded of Dumas, and those in his great novel who crossed their swords, and proclaimed "One for All, and All for One." 

You were there, at the birth of the Obama Doctrine.  For those of you so inclined, Frodo would have no objection with anyone forwarding this piece to the former Governor of Alaska (Just tell her it is an article in the latest edition of "Sports Illustrated").      

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:09 PM EDT

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Mood:  down

Sam's late father, the gallant Howard, was always giving gifts to Frodo.  One year, a long, long time ago, at Christmas, he gave Frodo a bag of chestnuts.  Frodo probably thought of at least 247,655 other things he would rather have received as a gift, but he accepted them in the spirit of the Season.  Upon his return to the Shire, Frodo placed the chestnuts into the vegetable bin of his ice box, and promptly forgot about them.

Sometime into the New Year, Sam asked Frodo what he intended to do with the plastic bag filled with chestnuts in the ice box.  Wisely interpreting that as a signal for action, Frodo commenced to shovel the chestnuts into the garbage pail, but not before noting that there were sprouts growing from several of the subjects in the bounty before him.  Despite the time of the year, Frodo dug three holes in various locations about the Shire, and placed a single chestnut into each hole.  He thought no more of those acts for the remainder of the football and basketball seasons.

The chestnuts were, due to the horrible blight which devastated the American Chestnut population in the Appalachian region several decades ago, English Chestnuts.  Frodo, frankly, understood not the difference, but he assumed that, not unlike most Englishmen he had ever met, the English Chestnuts were either gay and or unintelligible.

Sometime in the Spring that followed, Frodo noted the very beginnings of trees emanating in the areas where he had planted the English Chestnuts months before.  This event probably proved that these English Chestnuts were probably only unintelligble.  Growth was steady and attractive annually, and eventually the spreading Chestnut trees took on a rather poetic stance in the Gardens of the Shire.  Beauty however, is a quality which may be much less an asset than first glances may imply.

The first chestnut to fall from the largest of the three trees was not the last.   The number grew so large that every squirrel within all the lands of Middle Earth became familiar with the extra-terrestrial skyways leading to the Gardens of the Shire.  Frodo was, at first, pleased that the squirrels would haul the entire product away for squirrel purposes.  Unfortunately, the squirrels soon discovered that it was a better idea to break the hob-nailed outer covering of each and every chestnut before attempting to store the bounty for Winter consumption.  The result being that Frodo's Gardens, his driveway, the roof of his house, and the front yards of all his neighbors were covered in the hob-nailed byproduct of the English Chestnuts for weeks on end.  It is during these times that Frodo's neighbors stop speaking to him.  Fiona and Mick, the Wonder Dog, play upon Frodo's sympathies by limping or holding a paw in the air, signalling the presence of something which only Frodo can extricate in their behalf.

At this moment, trees one and two are pretty well emptied of their baneful booty.  Tree number three is attempting to set a new world record.  Frodo's Saturday, assuming that torrential rains pass without consequence, will be devoted to the cleansing of the Shire of all the chestnut byproducts.  Despite heavy gloves, and tools designed to minimize bending and stooping, Frodo will be much the worse for wear when this hour arrives on the morrow.

Frodo no longer accepts Christmas gifts which require nutrition.  Whatever eats, also passes chestnuts.  Somehow, he thinks he now understands why the gallant Howard gave him those chestnuts in the first place. 

Someday dear reader, should you motor past a picturesque old cemetery in eastern Tennessee with a lonely chestnut tree standing all alone amid the morning dew, know that the gallant Howard got a proper marker.   That is an American Chestnut, probably the only one in the entire bag.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:59 PM EDT

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Mood:  d'oh

Frodo reports that he came to a complete stop while perusing the Business Section of the Shire Daily News.  Knowing that more than 80 banks have failed so far in this calendar year, Frodo was quietly scanning the list in order to orient himself to the depths of the dilemma.  To find the name of "The First National Bank of Beverly Hills" was almost too much for the Hobbit to absorb, especially since he was intimately aware of the identity of the institution's largest depositor.  As do you, dear reader.

"Well, the first thing ya know, old Jed's a millionaire.  The kin folks said 'Jed, move away from there.'  Said 'Californy is the place ya oughtta be!', so they loaded up the truck and they moved to Beverly.  Hills, that is.  Swiimin' pools, Movie stars. . ."

Mr. Drysdale must be crushed, to know that under his leadership, loyal Miss Hathaway (who had the serious 'hots' for Jethro) has lost her job.  What's more, since the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC, to you acronym freaks) only insures individual depositor accounts to $250K (that's thousands, in economics speak), the Clampetts have lost nearly all of the wealth they entrusted to the First National Bank of Beverly Hills on the day that they arrived, fresh from their oil strike in Arkansas.

Although their Beverly Hills mansion, sitting in front of the "cement pond," was purchased with cash, it is unlikely that the remainder of the Clampett fortune will long survive property taxes in cash-poor California.  The "For Sale" sign in the front yard distresses both Granny and Elly Mae, but it will make the drive back home to Arkansas downright onerous for Jed.  Everybody knows that he'll take a big loss on the sale of the mansion, under these circumstances, so the question begs if there will be sufficient assets to even buy back the old family home in Arkansas?

Frodo opines that the American Spirit presupposes the possibility that Jed will one day again be huntin' possum, and a repeatedly errant shot will open yet another petroleum production platform in America's Heartland.  The bad news being that oil consumption, and prices, are dropping steadily.  In Georgia, according to Frodo, we know a lot about how much it pours when it rains. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:34 PM EDT

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Mood:  caffeinated

Frodo enjoys an injection of humor into serious issues and events.  Rare it is that the Hobbit retreats to the totally theoretical in order to postulate, especially when there is little of scientific fact to support his assertions.  It is far too easy to portray oneself as analtically omnipotent or insightful, and since, in this instance particularly, Frodo is pulling his thoughts out of his own instinctive butt, it deserves a prologue such as this.

"It is not about Russia."

Taken entirely out of context from the repetitive recitations of President Obama on wall-to-wall projections from the black-and-white world of television journalism this day, these words say a great deal about the extremely effective state of strategic foreign policy thought in America today.  Frodo believes that the decision by the Obama Administration to re-structure the missile defense system proposed by previous purveyors of American Foreign Policy is a creative step toward a more peaceful world.  No longer will civilized nation-states draw "lines in the sand" in each others' faces, rather they create a joint capacity to deter the uncivilized non-nation-states of the world from future acts of barbarism. 

In effect, argues Frodo, the Russians, the Americans, and all of the NATO allies are now capable of defending Israel against the potential nuclear threat of Iran.  Note that the Russians labeled Ahmadinejad's latest denial of the Holocaust as words which deny fact.  At the same time, the flexibility of mobile defense systems means that civilized peoples can act in tandem to prevent acts of terror against any one of them.  No longer does the United States stand as the "world's policeman."  It is as if we have melded defensive capabilities in order to make it clear to the Vandals, the Visigoths, and the Huns that we will act WITH the Russians, and they will act with us, in order to prosper civilization on our, jointly-owned, small blue planet.  

There is no need for a line of missiles in Poland or the Czech Republic, pointed toward Russia, to stand and gather dust for the next millenium.  There is however, a very great need for religious zealots to take note of their potentially imminent transit to Valhalla, the Land of 97 Virgins, or whatever they call the next world, which can be dispatched from any of the allied civilized societies.

Frodo believes that this is the product of good and wise men and women, who have seen War, and are doing their best to prevent the next one.  On a day when the questions were about other aspects of public and foreign policy, it is, in Frodo's mind, important to take note of the fact that the joint threat has produced joint responsibility and cooperation.  

Perhaps it is Frodo's wishful thinking, but this night, in this place, he truly believes that great steps have been taken to bring the white dove home, and to let her sleep, peacefully, in the sand. 

How is that for "hope" and "change"?   

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:40 PM EDT

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Mood:  hungry

Cracker Barrel is a restaurant chain headquartered in Lebanon, Tennessee.  Those who travel the Interstate Highway System anywhere in the American South certainly have seen their billboards, and nearly all of us have stopped, at least once, in order to empty a bladder and re-charge the colon.  The fare is something fried, two or three vegetables, corn bread, and all the sweet tea imaginable.  Frodo is a particular fan of the fried okra, while Sam surreptitiously fills a "doggie bag" with every extra piece of corn bread.  The prices attracts the local genre as well as the wayward.

The parent company got into a good bit of trouble some years ago when it became public knowledge that not only did they refuse to hire individuals they suspected to have homosexual tendencies, but they were doing their darned best to avoid even serving those with that inclination.  The situation was resolved because the American Civil Liberties Union became a grouping of words that do not emanate from  certain mouths in Lebanon, Tennessee, without a blasphemy that relates to traditional sex attached.  Frodo mentions all of this because of an incident that occurred this past week outside the Cracker Barrel located in Morrow, Georgia, which is about 50 miles, and 100 years, from the Shire.

Based on eyewitness description, and the not-yet-available-to-be-publicly-viewed surveillance videotape, Mr. Troy Dale West, Jr., bumped a military reservist, Tashawnea Hill, and her 7 year-old daughter, while opening the door to the restaurant.   When Ms. Hill objected, without further provocation, the considerably larger Mr. West commenced to beat the mortal hell out of her, in front of her child.  Ms. West, more than a week later, complains of headaches.  Police have charged Mr. West, who happens to be white, with assault on Ms. Hill, who happens to be black, and additionally cited him for racial insults while the beating was taking place.  The FBI is investigating the incident as a hate crime.

Interestingly enough, the parent company of Cracker Barrel, after issuing a strongly-worded statement deploring the attack, and prior to any adjudication, decided to act on its own.  The company announced that they were banning Mr. West from entering any of their restaurants for the rest of his life.

Imagine that!  Looking at a picture of Mr. West, Frodo found himself wondering exactly how this ban would be enforced?  Mr. West facially resembles at least 50% of the attendees at the "9-12 Protest" conducted by Fox News.  Frodo is convinced that he has seen Mr. West in the stands of every University of Tennessee football game he has ever watched on television.  In addition, Frodo believes him to be the crew chief of the racing motorcar driven by Dale Jarrett.  Perhaps the Management of Cracker Barrel will start issuing ID Cards. 

Considering the facts, Frodo found himself of two minds.  Firstly, he could imagine the American Civil Liberties Union now entering the fray on behalf of Mr. West, charging that taking this action prior to the completion of the judicial process might be just a bit premature considering how one might interpret the Fourteenth Amendment, for example.  On the other hand, Frodo sees considerable merit to the precedent established by the good folks at Cracker Barrel, and has decided to implement a similar policy applicable to potential visitors to the Shire.

The following individuals are hereby banned from entry to that geography defined as the Shire;  George W. Bush, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Newt Gingrich, Joe Wilson, Kim Jong Il, Lisa (the Howler Monkey), Glenn Beck, Roger Ailes, Tony Romo, Paris Hilton, Dick Cheney, Joe Scarborough, Sarah Palin, Michael Vick, Osama-bin Ladn, Ralph Reed, Michelle Bachmann, Charles Krauthammer, Bill Kristol, and Bernie Madoff for starters.

Management reserves the right to refuse service to anyone.     

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 11:05 AM EDT

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Mood:  blue

Patrick Swayze, Henry Gibson, and now, Mary Travers.

Frodo will be neither funny nor loquacious.  Mary Travers was a very special gift to the Fellowship of the Ring, and no one stood taller, or straighter, in the face of Sauron.  Her companions were Disciples in name only, but together the three of them propelled the Hobbit to flights of fancy on the backs of dragons, above ribbons of highway, answering only to the blowing winds.  Her hammer was a formidable weapon for freedom, love, and justice. 

The voice may tonight be stilled, and the long blonde hair may never again bounce to the music, but the songs remain.  They are a part of us.  Damn, were we lucky.

This gray night it happened, and Frodo sadly slips into his cave. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:24 PM EDT

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Mood:  suave

It was probably a rainy Sunday, and Frodo settled down to watch something mindless on his black-and-white.  The movie had something to do with a country nightclub with an extremely violent clientele, and the "bouncer" who was hired to maintain order.  Frodo has been in a few bars in his time, and has never been particularly supportive of the role played by the bouncer, so it was his predisposition to root for the bad guys.  Frodo grew increasingly uninterested as sophomoric violence spread like oleomargarine over the characters, that is until the potential for a little hero-heroine peekaboo lovemaking caused him to shift positions in his Lazy Boy.

The heroine peered through a window, looking to the shoreline of an idyllic lake, taking note of the hero, in the gleaming of the Morning Sun.  Clad for dance, he turned his head in the same direction as his thrusting arm. then he spun and danced in the opposite direction, and threw his trailing leg into a high kick landing on the toes of both feet.  He paused.  He whistled both arms in a rhythmic flurry of circles, then stretched to his full height, and held the pose, arms aloft, as if he were Nureyev, waiting for Fonteyn to enter upon the stage.  Then he moved both hands toward his torso, as if he were holding something, round, in both hands.  There he stood, for five minutes or longer, as if he had a great prize between his empty hands.

With a leap and a kick in finale, he ended his exercise, turned to the window, and smiled to his assumingly unseen audience of one.

In the early mornings at Lake Lovey, Frodo will leash Fiona and Mick, the Wonder Dog, and walk them out across the earthen dam.  Once an acceptable location is reached, he unleashes his friends and lets them wander about until they individually settle in the underbrush and perform their duty.  While they sniff and explore the fresh scents of morning, Frodo lifts his arms high above his head stretching toward the Sun, until his wrists touch, then he spins and kicks, landing on the other leg.  He holds the pose and slowly balances, like a crane, with one leg level with the Earth, and both arms aloft as if he were about to fly.  He steps back onto both legs, then reverses the pose just completed upon the other leg, again as if were about to soar above valleys far below.  To finish, he takes hold of an invisible balloon, and holds it against his torso, tightly enough to avoid escape, but not tight enough to burst.  When five minutes pass, he leaps and spins his hips in the air, landing softly a full half-turn, facing the mildly interested canines.

The little old ladies who walk around Lake Lovey in the early mornings don't know what to make of the Hobbit doing something called Tai Chi'.  Frodo is convinced that they time their walks in order to see if today will be the morning when he breaks his neck.   For Frodo, as he leashes up his associates and heads for home, he remains grateful for the artistic inspiration  of "Roadhouse," and its hero, Patrick Swayze.  

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:43 PM EDT

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Scott Shannon frequently accompanies Frodo while jaunting about the Shire in his motorcar.  Not only is the music wonderful, but Shannon has been everywhere, and done everything, and when it comes to telling stories about the artists and the art, there is none better.  Every storyteller however, is subject to the sometimes witty reposit of a faithful companion, and what follows is akin to Tonto responding to the Lone Ranger's lament that being surrounded by hostile Indians may bring their eventual demise ("What you mean 'we', kemo sabe?").

Shannon recounted a recent bank robbery in California, and subsequent questioning of witnesses by the local gendarmerie, which yielded an unheard of consistency in description.  Nearly all of the witnesses to the hold-up remarked upon the striking beauty of the robber, but none could seem to give any detailed physical description.  Eventually, said Shannon, one of the police officers commenced to query a rather effeminate gentleman who had witnessed the evil-doer from across the street as she made her hasty getaway.

The witness disclosed that the tall and leggy African-American bandit wore a tight fitting pink gown, with pearls, and an off-white kerchief about the throat.  The shoes were white and open-toed.  A matching broad-brimmed hat with a red ribbon about the base, upon which the felon maintained its placement with her left hand while holding a derringer, pointed at a bank teller furiously stuffing bills into a shopping bag from Saks Fifth Avenue.

Shannon paused, for a fatal moment, before adding the punch line to the story, and it gave his broadcasting sidekick the opportunity to add in a rhetorical huff, "White, after Labor Day?"

When the entire radio network regained control, Shannon sheepishly explained that the witness also indicated that the robber was actually a man.  Then again, what would one expect?

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:17 PM EDT

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