Mood:  quizzical

"Professor Galbraith?"

"Yes Mr. Frodo."

"In our reading for this lecture, you've suggested that we start with Adam Smith.  Isn't that a little hollow for those of us here at Harvard who are bound for Goldman,Sachs or UBS?"

"Why would you perceive Adam Smith to be 'hollow', Mr. Frodo?"

"Perhaps 'relevant' is a better word."

"Ah relevance is it, that which guides the graduate student in his quest for fulfillment, or in the case of the Business School, money."

Titter, titter from the audience.

"Well Sir, how does Adam Smith have anything to do with the economic crisis which haunts the entire world?"

"Mr. Frodo, did you take note of the Initial Public Offering of General Motors this morning?"

"Oh, indeed I did Sir.  It opened at $30 per share and reached as high as $34 before settling back a bit by the closing bell."

"So?"

"So good.  If the revival of GM, from the 'stimulus' continues to progress, then GM can repay the governmental largesse, plus interest."

"At what point?"

"At about $51 per share."

"That'll take a while, won't it?"

"Sure."

"Then what does that say about the wealth of our nation, if you will?"

Frodo say nuttin'.

"Let me ask you, Mr. Frodo, about Ford Motor Company."

"I was afraid you were going in this direction."

"How did Ford respond to the governmental largesse?"

"They didn't accept any assistance at all."

"So?"

"They have weathered the storms relatively well, and are paying their taxes on time as a result of a steady profit."

"What does that say about the wealth of our nation?"

Frodo say nuttin'.

"Now turn the issue around, Mr. Frodo, and ask yourself, since both approaches apparently worked to the betterment of the wealth of our nation, was governmental largesse the best course or should the free market have been left to determine who survives?"

"Sir, I find it hard to accept that letting GM fail would have been to the betterment of our nation.  All those people would have lost jobs, and the recession would have been even deeper."

"Unless, of course, the demand stayed where it was, and Ford started hiring people to make cars in their name."

Frodo say nuttin'.

"The point is Mr. Frodo, that an 'adult conversation' can take place when people recognize that there is 'more than one way to skin a cat,' and that the true wealth of our nation is treating our disagreements as dialogue, and not as ideologue."

A door opens in the rear of the lecture hall, and the errant entrant stumbles toward a vacant chair.

"Ah Mr. Boehner, so happy you could join us, out for a smoke?"

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:15 PM EST

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Mood:  party time!

Frodo never understood why any enterprising entrepreneur failed to assemble enough land and to construct a model "Tara" prior to the 1996 Olympiad in Atlanta.  Frankly, it was what the world wanted to see in Atlanta, and the tourists would have paid any price to carry each other up a winding staircase or to wrap themselves in green window dressing.  Frodo has supposed that it is likely that good things just happen in Atlanta, because it is increasingly clear that what is planned grows abyssmally more simplistic with each passing day.

Bernie Marcus, half of the dynamic duo who created "Home Depot" apparently has too much money and too little sound judgment.  His generosity produced the Atlanta Aquarium, billed as the largest in the world, which contains beluga whales and whale sharks on exhibition.  Of course, the fact that many of these gargantuans have mysteriously passed on to that big fish pond in the sky is rarely discussed in polite circles.  To Frodo's chagrin it is noted that there are aquaria, although admittedly smaller, in almost ever city in America.  They even have one in Chattanooga, known until now for only the presence of a Choo-Choo converted into a fast-food eatery.

Not to be outdone, even if by his own lack of creativity, Marcus has put forth an idea dubbed the "Atlanta Eye," which is defined as a 45-story Ferris wheel.  Marcus, it seems, got the idea while on a recent trip to London, which already has its own "London Eye."  Doen't this guy have an original thought in his head?  After all, "Home Depot" is just a hardware store, but without customer service.

Frodo has decided to put on his thinking cap, and suggest to the "leadership" of Atlanta that it might really be a good idea to install a big, old carnival ride in downtown Atlanta, but it would be even better if it was one of the attractions other than the Ferris wheel.

Picture the "Tunnel of Love" or the "Tilt-A-Whirl," with certain modifications, for example.  A spinning Tilt-A-Whirl would have puke a-flyin' from elevations ranging from ground-level to the very heights of 191 Peachtree.  A Tunnel of Love, staffed with inhabitants of Atlanta's downtown bridges and exit ramps, would not only provide jobs for the chronically unemployed, but would lessen the libido of the riders, for a long, long time.  Nobody would argue against a smaller birth-rate.

It is only fitting that the true Capital of the South should lead, rather than follow, into the latter stages of the twenty-first century. 

It could be the first step in the creation of a whole new entertainment complex.  We'll call it "Maddox Land."     

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:20 PM EST

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Mood:  on fire

It was a morning in the Shire very much like it must have been that morning, December 7th, 1941, in Pearl Harbor.  The birds were singing and there was a lilt of warmth to the Suns' rise as Frodo staggered down to breakfast.  As he passed by the technological center of the Shire, he switched on the computer, only to find that there was a discrepancy between who he happens to be, and whom he is perceived to be in pc world.  The first salvo was fired at exactly 7:00 AM, on the day marked to celebrate the end to all war. 

Frodo's first antagonist was at a call center in Louisville (Frodo was tempted to ask her if she was one of the morons who cast a vote for Ron Paul's kid, but he figured that since he needed her cooperation he'd let it pass).  For nearly an hour she stumbled through her checklist of "enter" "delete" "reset" and so on, and eventually seemed to have licked the problem.  That lasted until Frodo called up his e-mail and attempted to enter another web world.

Frodo's second call must have gone to Swaziland, but the thing that was sure was that this young lady had major decibel shortages since birth.  Time and again Frodo asked her to repeat what she had just said, simply because he not only had trouble understanding what she said, but it was nearly impossible to even hear her.  After innumerable frustrations, Frodo realized that his cellphone was dying too, and before he could make arrangements to continue in conversation with "The Dog Whisperer," he was cut off, with no avenue of future access.

Assailant Number Three was from the soft underbelly of the Asian sub-continent, and she had to be new on the job.  After repeating, in order, each of the steps taken by her predecessors, she had Frodo reverse the DSL cable from wall-to-modem-to-modem-to-wall, and chuckled while she listened to him grunt and squeal as he moved furniture and cables to no avail.  She concluded by telling Frodo that the problem was not with "Ma Bell," and that he would have to proceed with the "fee-based" diagnostic center, to which she could switch him immediately, but that they would waive the fee in this instance.

Number Four (note the similarity to a former inmate on "The Prisoner" starring Patrick McGoohan) was a complete asshole.  She proceeded to lecture Frodo on the lack of protocol exhibited by Assailant Number Three, and to "shush" him several times while she explained that to proceed would require an open withdrawal from his credit card not to exceed $129 for less than 60 minutes of "dialogue."  There was no guarantee that this would resolve his problem.  Frodo also received a negative response when he asked if she would pay him $129 if it came to pass that "Ma Bell" was indeed responsible for the entire mess.  She evidently thought Frodo was amused.

Frodo went back to the well of assistance one more time.  After all, it was now 12:30, Frodo had no breakfast, no computer, no reason to go to work, and nothing to lose.

The Assistor this time was definitely from the South Side of Chicago, or from any of several other ghetto locations in Urban America, but Hey, he and Frodo sort of shucked and jived as if they were Ludacris and Kid Rock.  Frodo was now using Sam's cell phone, and he could hear the ominous intermittent chirping that signals the demise of these instruments.  Together, they raced through the protocols, and at last mutually concluded that since their last attempt proved inconclusive, that the problem was probably not "Ma Bell," but one of thousands of other undiagnosed sources of conflagration.  They parted friends.

Frodo called "The Geek Squad."  These guys would come to the Shire for $99 for an hour, and quickly demonstrated to Frodo that they could reach a satisfactory end to the continuing assault on his freedoms.  They made an appointment, and Frodo retreated to his cave in order to ready the scene for his visitor.  He turned off the computer, after thinking about it for a bit, and just sat and glared at the black screen for a couple of minutes.  It was as if he were plotting the attack on Guadalcanal in 1942.

When he turned on the computer, it lit up as if Heaven-sent.

It is nice to be a veteran of armed conflict on this day.  Everybody appreciates what you have been through.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:09 PM EST

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Mood:  irritated

First, let us consider what we know.

Representative Rex Duncan (R-Sand Springs) authored a proposed amendment to the Oklahoma Consitution that would prohibit state courts from considering international or Islamic law when deciding cases.  The proposal received 70 percent of the vote resulting from the November 2nd election.  Representative Duncan stated that this was not an attack on Muslims, rather it sought to prevent activist judges from relying on international or Islamic law when deciding legal cases.

US District Judge Vicki Miles-LaGrange issued a temporary restraining order blocking adoption of the proposed amendment pending the lawsuit filed by an Oklahoman named Muneer Awad.  Mr. Awad stated that his "constitutional rights were being violated through the condemnation of my faith."  He added that, "Today's ruling is a reminder of the strength of our nation's legal system and the protection it grants to religious minorities."

Representative Duncan, surprised by the decision, stated "It thwarts the will of the people."

Somewhere between 20,000 and 30,000 Muslims call Oklahoma "Home."

Now let us consider what we do not know.

Why would anyone call Oklahoma "Home"?

Why would anyone want to call Oklahoma "Home"?

If you spit straight up into the air on the western border of Oklahoma, will the saliva remain intact until it strikes something beyond the eastern border?

Do 30,000 Muslims think that Oklahoma resembles Saudi Arabia?

Has anyone quizzed their GPS in order to determine if one can drive around Oklahoma without passing through?

Is it true that Oklahomans think the "Magna Carta" is a 16-ounce tall boy?

Finally, we ask ourselves, would Mexico take back Texas if we threw in Oklahoma?  Or would it be too much of a disincentive?

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:59 PM EST

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Mood:  celebratory

"Mister Frodo, a border collie is a working dog.  She will absolutely require that you spend at least an hour a day, every single day, with no time off for holidays, exercising her body and her mind.  To fail her in this need, well, it would be cruel, and I would advise you to get another type of pet."  So said Dr. Porsches (an alias provided to he who now owns two Porsches because of Frodo's contributions to his veterinary practice).

An hour a day.

That is a very significant contribution of resources by an aging businessman, not to mention a Hobbit warrior.  The relationship that Frodo had with Lovey comprises some of the finest hours of his life, and he does not regret that hour, every single day, for even one second.  Together, they ran in the early-morning rain, and they swam in waters still and calm.  They chased tennis balls, and avoided enraged cattle who resented being herded.  They climbed mountains, and they explored forests, primeval and restored.  They parted when it was her time, and the light never disappeared from her eyes, of that Frodo is sure.

"Mister Frodo, you write very well, and I look forward to your exploits and your passion.  Promise yourself that you will devote one hour per day, every day, to writing about what you have to write about."  So said the Warrior Merry (an alias provided to she who castigated and chided the Hobbit and is technically responsible for these words herein).

Another hour a day.

That is also a significant contribution of time and resources, but it took a polite kick-in-the-ass to get Frodo off his duff and to put into words the College of the Shire, Mick (the Wonder Dog), the Shire itself, and events that shape a world while having no impact on the flora and the fauna of the oldest mountain chain on our small blue planet.  If, dear reader, there is every any laughter added to your life, or a solitary tear shed in empathy for the most telling of moments, then you have Proud Merry to thank.  Frodo has not regretted a single thing he has said, and he is actually kind of proud of most of it.

This is posting number 1,000.  It occurs amid the sixth year of Frodo's effort.  It also evidences the fact that Frodo has missed his hour-a-day goal.

Like the President whom he so admires, he will try to do better. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:19 PM EDT

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Mood:  not sure

Frodo will rake leaves this day, then he will move fragile plants from their warm-weather homes out-of-doors into the darkness for the duration of winter's grasp.  He will dig gladiolus bulbs and store them in order to re-plant and space, come the brighter days sure to return when balance is restored to the Shire.  He will fill feeders for those redbreasts who now gorge on fat, red berries in the dogwoods, and, for sure, those who watch and wait from their aeries which will serve the birthing of rodents aloft.  Preparation is characteristic in these days, and it is Frodo's lesson dear reader, for those who invite the pain and suffering in looking back while denying themselves the simplest of pleasures.

Frodo has closed two big deals in recent days, and two more hang like fresh fruit in a tropical forest.  Months of self-denial and concentrated effort offer the Hobbits an opportunity to, once again, count their blessings and to enjoy the filled larders of success in business.  Even if Spring should arrive much later than normal, the Hobbits are prepared.

However, the travel brochures have started to arrive en masse, and the deals are fantastic.  There is no discussion of place or voyage that would require sweater or coat.  Sam has renewed interest in completing a circuit of all the original seven wonders, excluding of course the Hanging Gardens.  Frodo still has visions of himself as Paris, defending the prize he took from Agamemnon, and walking the Plains of Troy. 

Mick, the Wonder Dog, stands ready to assist his friend in the tasks at hand, and he daily reminds Frodo that some dreams are best deferred, but never allowed to disappear.  Lest we all forget.  

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:35 AM EDT

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Mood:  celebratory

The Texas Rangers, who play baseball in the suburbs of the ugliest town in the ugliest state, got their asses handed to them last night by a "rag-tag" group from San Francisco, called the Giants.  Although Frodo has no allegiance to either team, and the San Francisco Giants eliminated his Gallant Braves from the play-offs, Frodo hates everybody less than he hates anything from Texas.  He couldn't help but think that Nancy Pelosi feels much the same, and he is honored to be on her side.

The Dallas Cowboys, whp play in the ugliest stadium in the ugliest town in the ugliest state, have gotten their asses handed to them six times, so far, in the National Football League season.  This is particularly galling to Jerry Jones, the owner of "America's Team" (a term stolen from Ted Turner), who built the cornucopic monstrosity that he hoped would be used to host the next Super Bowl, starring of course, the spoiled brats of his payroll.  Losses have included that to Frodo's favorites, the Washington Redskins who not only scalped their long-time rivals in their own ballpark, but they basically castrated them.  The Cowboys stink so bad that the infamous "Little Sisters of the Poor" are trying to get a game scheduled with them, and the LSOP are already 10-point favorites.

The University of Texas, who play in the only space in the entire state which is totally inhabited by non-cretins, but is surrounded therein by Neanderthals, is unranked in the BCS Rankings for the top college football team.  Since Frodo was a mere gleam in his daddy's eye, the "Longhorns" have dominated these rankings, and have always been in the "Top Ten," until this year.

The people of the State of Texas have Governor Rick Perry.  One of the Texas Congressional Districts continues to be "manned-up" by Willy Gomert.  The worst President in the history of the US of A maintains his brushpiles in Crawford.

As Frodo considers exactly how grim and forlorn life would be for anyone with an IQ greater than that of a bullfrog who was forced, by circumstance and/or fate, to reside in America's Texas outhouse, he concludes that losing a few House seats doesn't really matter much at all.  Just think how much worse life could be, "living" in Texas.  

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:23 PM EDT

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Mood:  a-ok

Friday, October 29, 1929, the infamous "Black Friday," took place exactly 81 years ago.  Frodo sensing an ominous wind as he tries to prepare himself for great disappointment to come, notices that Sam seems serene and composed.  Thinking only to himself, he remembers discussion about "the litany," to which, he admits, he had paid but subservient attention.  He always assumed that Sam's Mother, a paragon of order and peaceful personal discipline had instilled a methodology in her offspring that allowed the mind and body to prepare for challenge.  How wrong Frodo has been.

Sam has beaten cancer, twice.  Sam endured a stepmother who developed dementia so severe that mere contact with father before his death became difficult.  Sam's lone sibling, a sister who is adored as best friend finds her independence and life quality in peril.  Sam deals with an affliction which prevents the production of liquids in the body, so there are no tears, no saliva.  Sam lives a life of tolerance and respect for others which inspires Frodo to fight harder, every day.  Sam knows how to try hard.

Frodo finally decided to ask Sam directly.  "This 'litany,' I assume, is something you learned from your Mother?"

"No.  Actually, it was something I read some time ago, and, over time, I've taken the 'mantra', changed some of the words, and found a way to bring a day to an end, peacefully."

"Hmm," said Frodo, "is this like the counsel every newlywed couple receives from someone on the wedding day to 'never go to bed angry'?"

"No, it starts with simply recognizing that there's something out there which is bigger than either Sam or Frodo, and addressing some very basic 'thank-yous' for giving me another day, or for how good I felt all day long."

"And then?"

"And then I apply some of that to the needs around us, some is personal, some is broader in scope."

"So how does it differ from a simple prayer?"

"It takes place as I let the day escape, and a peaceful rush comes over me when health and happiness are associated with people I love who can use some good thoughts.  It includes all the creatures of the Shire, too.  I don't ask for anything I just fall asleep thinking about people getting better, and being happier.  That, dear Frodo, is the litany."

"So, would the President fit into the litany?"

"I think of him, and the encouragement that we all need when everyone and everything seem to line up against us."

"What about the opposition, those whom we mock and, in truth, despise?"

"What, you think I'm going to stay up half the night hoping that Sarah Palin gets over her mental illness?"

Sam laughed.

Frodo may indeed by the smallest and the weakest, but he is also, the most fortunate. 

His birthday litany is decided.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:30 PM EDT

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Mood:  on fire

One would think that Frodo was an Iraqi journalist.  That is, when his shoe went whizzing by the head of Marco Rubio, on Frodo's black-and-white, appearing in debate last evening with his opponents for the Senate from Florida.  He did not lie, mind you, but he presented, as facts, that which was obfuscated or ignored.

Rubio noted, as fact, that this is the first year that Social Security has paid out more than it has collected.  He indicated, as fact, that if this situation continued at this rate predictions are that somewhere between the years 2027 and 2041 Social Security would be unable to meet its obligations.  This, of course, leads to the assertion that America's seniors would be left high and dry.

For the record, asserts Frodo, let us note that the "Baby Boom" generation, the largest increase in population that we have ever experienced, commenced in 1945, with the end of World War II.  It should be noted that 2010 minus 1945 equals 65.  This number is significant because it represents the age of those who today are first, or eldest, among the "Baby Boomers."  It is, as Rubio noted, also the first year the Social Security trust system ran at a deficit.

Carrying the thought forward, let us further note that the population continued to expand significantly until about 1960, when the "Baby Boom" effectively ended.  If one were to, correctly adds Frodo, assume that the Social Security trust system ran at a deficit during each of those years when the "Baby Boomers" hit age 65, then the effects of the population growth would end in or about 2025.  This is, of course, two years before, even under the most dire of estimates, the Social Security trust system would reach the projected inability to meet its obligations.

What Mario didn't say was that, given prudent management, and responsible fiduciary performance, the Social Security trust system will neither run out of money, nor will it fail to meet its obligations to America's seniors and disabled, ever.

That is the "politics of fear," and it is why Frodo threw his shoe at the smarmy little turd.   Frodo is willing to bet that Rubio is a Texan. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:03 PM EDT

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Mood:  amorous

Her name was Kitty Kreft and she was humongous.  In fact, she was the biggest girl in Frodo's class.  She could have removed each of Frodo's thighs and consumed them as if he were the featured item at KFC.  Frodo was always on his best behavior around her, simply because she always seemed to be staring at him and, although he may have only imagined it so, she seemed to be licking her chops.  It was against this backdrop that Frodo reacted with horror when he heard her say that she intended to kiss Frodo.

Frodo was saving himself for marriage.  After all, he had been lead to believe that the systemic construction of the body dictated that everything entered orally, and was released through the various remaining orifices.  Frodo had no intention of being forced to impregnate The Incredible Hulk by kiss, but the problem was that she was not only bigger than Frodo, but she could run like an enraged rhinocerous. 

Frodo was always first off the bus, giving him a head start down the street, across Mrs. Shoultes lot, over the drainage ditch, up the driveway, and through the breezeway to the back door.  Frodo's route, and his swivel-hipped impersonation of "Crazy Legs Hirsch," carried him through that Fall of his second school year and instilled an aura of confidence, which, unfortunately, morphed into overconfidence.

Perhaps it was the extra clothing for warmth, but Frodo became aware that late gray afternoon of his pursuer swiftly gaining ground.  In desperation, Frodo flew across the breezeway and attempted to circle around the garage in order to confuse Brontosaurus, but a purposeful objective, Frodo was about to learn, was something hard to avoid.  Suddenly, Frodo was spread-eagle on the ground, and the Predator gazed deep into his eyes, saliva dripping from her nostrils, as she prepared the coup de grace.  The inevitable was at hand.

"AAARRRGGGHH," screamed Frodo as he breathlessly expended all his energy in one final attempt to throw off his attacker before his seed was accepted in the mouth of the Cyclops. 

Kitty Kreft and her family moved to Berryville that Spring.  She never knew that she was a Mother. 

Wondering about his first kiss, Frodo has assumed that Kitty Kreft is still in a state of euphoria, if not the Pro Football Hall of Fame.  

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 7:59 PM EDT

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