Frodo, Keeper of the Ring

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Deep In December, Our Hearts Will Remember
Mood:

cool
Topic: "Unbroken Circle" (7)

Occasionally, there comes a day in December when the winds are gentle and the skies are brilliant in blue. A pair of Cooper's Hawks perch in tandem between the warming of eggs and the search for food. Where Frodo has stacked detritus from the Spring that was the Shire, they stand silently in search of rodents preparing for the days to come when life itself hinges on the simplicity of warmth and food. Frodo lays his rake aside, and watches the watchers. It is time well spent.

Christmas lights are more numerous than in recent years, although the exhibits are not nearly as ornate as the days when the citizens of Middle Earth seemed to worry more about things long since forgotten. Delivery trucks and postal personnel are at the peak of efficiency and every customer seems pleased and patient. Empty houses stand as sentinels reminding all that there is a price to be paid for dreams gone awry, even on a warm afternoon, deep in December.

Mick, the Wonder Dog, catches the scent of his neighbor to the South, who asks Frodo every day about the spirits of his aged friend. Rassa, the young German Shepherd who lives to the East, crosses the street under the consent of her owner, and she touches noses with he who takes each day as it comes, and revels in the kindness of those who watch him parade with Frodo down the streets of the Shire, wishing that such walks would never end. Frodo knows, as do his neighbors in the Shire, that the morrow, or the day after, will bring more northerly breezes.

Today however, the bird feeders are under preventive assault, and Frodo is only too glad to fill each and every one.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:19 PM EST

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Friday, December 2, 2011

Take, Take Me Home, 'Cause I Don't Remember
Mood:

celebratory
Topic: "Cain Not Able" (7)

Attorneys, succinctly, suck. Attorneys almost suck more than Texans; almost. Frodo calls to note the performance of a Limey named Piers Morgan who last evening completely denuded the overly slick and sucking amoeba who handles the defense of the woefully ill-prepared "Hermanator". Morgan, whose broadcast succeeds Larry King on CNN, attacked with both feet, and left the sucker, well, sucking wind.

Morgan dwelt passionately on the number of accusers, each of whom the "Hermanator" has dubbed "liar." Morgan thrust and parried, as little beads of sweat became visible at the very edge of the pancake makeup on the countenance of this barrister (please note that Frodo respects members of the bar for what they are, and refers to them, singularly and en masse, as "barristers" because he laments the fact that each and every one did not have a daddy).

This particular barrister was wearing a suit that cost as much as the $60,000 fees identified by Newt Gingrich as the hourly rate as "historian" for corrupt governmental mortgage lenders. It was quite pleasing to note the perspiration stains under his arms as Morgan reincarnated his attack-dog assault on the credibility of an ever-increasingly tense and pissed-off miscreant barrister. Morgan crossed boundaries more than once, further drawing the ire of the barrister, caring not that he trod on defendant rights, for his objective was to get "under the skin" of this sucker, and let him suffer his own discomfort under intense scrutiny.

Maybe, just maybe, there is at least one Englishman who isn't gay? Piers Morgan would be Frodo's British candidate for having cujones (which is more than he can say for Prince Harry).

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:01 PM EST

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Thursday, December 1, 2011

Torn Between Two Lovers, Feelin' Like a Fool
Mood:

a-ok
Topic: "Good Cop" (7)

Jack Webb used to say that "only the names have been changed to protect the innocent," and righteous that is for the real people mentioned by Frodo this eve.

She will be 104 years old next week. She lives there with her daughter, who is 83. They have lived in the same house for 53 years.

The day before yesterday, Chase Bank (their real name) directed a moving company and the Fulton County Sheriff to evict the residents of the subject piece of property for failure to satisfy their legal obligation to maintain timely payments on a second mortgage. Two police officers and the moving company arrived simultaneously. Shortly thereafter the moving company employees left, with an empty truck, and the police officers notified their commanding officer of the situation and their reluctance to enforce the legally mandated eviction.

The commanding officer ordered the policemen to "stand down."

The commanding officer arranged for someone in his office to make contact with Chase Bank. Chase Bank subsequently announced that the action was being halted, and that the residents would be allowed to remain in their home, indefinitely.

Chase Bank cleared multiple billions in profits over the past fiscal year. Yet, it took some really good public servants to keep a 103.99 year-old lady in her house, and the police commanding officer asked that his name not be used, since he was doing his job the best way he knew how, and that the publicity served no purpose.

Frodo wonders what "Little Ricky" Perry would say about public employees like that? The property owner said she wasn't worried, she knew that God would not let her down.

Amen Sister, Amen.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:22 PM EST

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Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This
Mood:

irritated
Topic: "Ma Bell Lives" (7)

Frodo is working fast. He received a "Kendel" as a gift. He found out that he did not have the technology to support the hand-held device. After numerous discussions with no more than four degrees of separation between the Hobbit and half the population of Mumbai, he is still unable to identify whether or not he has a "Why-Fie" system, and just as he is about to conclude an amusin g or harrowing tale for thee, dear reader, the whold damn thing disappears into the place where one sock always hides when the dryer cuts off.

Frodo and Sam are at Lake Lovey for Thanksgiving, assuming there is adequare space on the highway-system to support the 42.5M residents of Middle Earth who will utilize it.

Be patient, enjoy some football, and see if you now understand why so many Republicants are longing for the good old days of Sarah Palin.

Yahoo.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:14 PM EST

Updated: Tuesday, November 22, 2011 8:16 PM EST

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Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Did You Ever Have to Finally Decide?
Mood:

don't ask
Topic: "Frack You" (7)

Lorne Green, Adama in the original "Battlestar Galactica," would have enjoyed the sequel, thinks Frodo. Rather than a cartoonish robotic dog for example, there was open sex between the now-feminine "Starbuck" and almost anyone not seated in the television audience. Despite his own deep-breathing, Frodo found himself entranced by the linguistic artistry wound into the everyday conversations of the cast, and the similarity to the dialogue of the reader. The term "Fracking" evidently meant exactly what it almost spells and sounds like, but the powers that be felt it could be interspersed throughout without any obvious corruption to sensitive ears.

Frodo was reminded of the show and the terminology as he absorbed himself in the scientific references to oil discovery in Middle Earth. "Fracking," it seems, is the name of the process whereby oil is reclaimed from a non-liquid state deep amidst the aquifer of the small blue planet. In the name of "alternative sources of energy" the water table is apparently threatened by the introduction of the extraction process. Additionally, the frequency of geologic shifts among the tectonic plates seems to bear some relationship to the increasing drilling, pumping, and draining far beneath the surface of the land.

North Dakota, which as best Frodo can determine is somewhere beyond the Mojave Desert and adjacent to Mordor, is the center of oil exploration and personnel recruitment. Desperate, out-of-work laborers are descending upon the desolation of the tundra and sleeping in their cars since there is not enough housing for the required number of workers.

Despite several generations of political leaders who have promised "energy independence," it appears to Frodo as if what we have is simply more of the same, just not with the intials "Made in the Middle East" on the packaging. The economic challenges are so great for nations and inhabitants alike, it is unsurprising that short-term thinking prevails. The results include, unfortunately, a continuation of the expenditure of fossil fuel into the atmosphere, and a re-working of the internal structure of the land itself which could include poisoning our water supply and all of that which it supports.

"Fracking" seems to be much more obscenity-laden in its current state than as the spreading genitalia of Adama's pilot. Say, do you think something more corporate may have been in mind by the usage of the name "Starbuck?"

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:48 PM EST

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Saturday, November 12, 2011

I'd Love You to Want Me The Way That I Want You
Mood:

energetic
Topic: "NCAA---Blech!" (7)

Once upon a time "Tubby" Smith was the very successful and charismatic basketball coach at the University of Georgia (Everybody remembers the University of Georgia, it was the school with the lowest entrance requirements identified on the SAT preparatory material we all analyzed before we sat down to select multiple-choice answers about how long it would take us to get to Chicago by train). Sean Smith was (and is) his son, and he was a very good basketball player who attended the University of Georgia in order to play on the team that his father coached. Frodo thought (and still thinks) neat it was, that a kid in America could play college basketball under the direction of his father and that father and son could mature together in both a personal and a professional relationship (had everybody named George Bush been so involved, our whole world may have been different).

Tubby Smith received an offer from the University of Minnesota to become their Basketball Coach. Mind you now, Tubby was under contract to Georgia, so impossible it was for him to simply invalidate a contract for more money. Frodo was stunned when the NCAA (National Collegiate Athletic Association) ruled that Tubby could go ahead and accept the higher-paying job, and move on to greater glory without any regard for the sanctity of the issue that a "deal is a deal" between a university and those whom it chooses to employ.

Sean Smith decided, quite reasonably, that he would be much happier playing for his father in Minnesota than he would be playing for someone else at Georgia. Sean announced his intention to transfer, and was promptly slapped down by the same NCAA and told that he would have to sit out one entire season because of his transfer to Minnesota.

Dear reader, the NCAA ruled that it was perfectly all right for the father to violate the cornerstone of business law, but for the son to merely want to follow his father, it was worthy of a penalty.

The NCAA is today dealing with the myriad issues surrounding the behavior of men and boys at Pennsylvania State University. Frodo, not unsurprisingly, has little confidence in the capacity of the NCAA to maturely deal with issues with a certain level of social complexity. Not unlike the opinions presented by many, it is clear that a moral compass is required prior to entry into dealings with institutions such as the NCAA, for the attainment of a moral compass once one comes under their jurisdiction is not only unlikely, it is fiction.

Institutions, of every ilk, are self-preservation structures. Institutions teach us directions, and often said directions are totally contrary to our instincts and what we were taught to believe during the maturation process. Catholic Churches, Pennsylvania State Universities, NCAA's and the people who maintain them are primary contributors to the moral desolation of leadership. How else would one explain the failure of a college-educated adult male who witnessed the rape of a ten-year-old boy, and who did not stop it?

Frodo could go much further with all that is on his mind as he contemplates the impact of the Ring on innocence. It would serve lesser a purpose however, than the words of the last sentence in the preceeding paragraph.

How, indeed?

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:44 PM EST

Updated: Saturday, November 12, 2011 8:46 PM EST

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Monday, November 7, 2011

You Can Go Your Own Way
Mood:

loud
Topic: "Rules" (7)

Frodo often wishes that he could claim a certain statement as his own. Taking note of the OCCUPY posters on Wall Street, he was bemused by the one lad who carried the hand-written "We Were Expecting Cake" on his placard. Perhaps Frodo liked it so much because it seemed to strike at the purposeful center of these street protests which, in truth, have puzzled the Hobbit; that is, until a blind man showed him the way.

Former Governor David Patterson (D-NY) never impressed Frodo very much, so he paid the politician little in the way of homage. On Bill Maher's rather risque', and oftentimes boring, show Friday last, Patterson was one of the panel members responding to the comedians' calls for commentary on things happening. To the point of the OCCUPY activities, Patterson had fulfilled Frodo's low-bar expectations. Then, he actually said something that made the Hobbit stop-and-think (zounds!). Patterson said that we have to remember that it has been thirty years since there was any level of meaningful street demonstration in the US of A, and that those now so engaged are learning how to be relevant, and to attract the level of response which makes their effort worthwhile. He went so far as to predict that the message would coalesce for all the world to see in short time.

In all candor, Patterson is correct. Frodo remembers the futility felt by all who "shot the bird" at John Mitchell, or "mooned" H.R. Haldemann, knowing that they had lost their message, and that now all that they could do was to fuel the flames of disgust, and go home. Who remembers the "Million Man March" except for the fact that every fast-food joint in Washington D.C. was packed solid at lunchtime.? Frodo can't actually recall what the purpose was, or what was achieved, if anything. Beyond that, it has been a bunch of old farts holding hands and singing "We Shall Overcome."

It is beyond Frodo's point to discuss the reasons for the futility of three decades, but it is "right on" to note that what these folks are doing out there right now is pushing, and waiting for "pushback." They have touched a sore spot in our collective psyche.

Although the message remains a bit foggy, and the possibility of a nasty turn to satisfy the well-fed, the nearly dead, or the newly-wed, there are some pretty impressive signs to go alongside the young man looking for either chocolate or angel food.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 4:46 PM EST

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Sunday, November 6, 2011

He's Leavin' On That Midnight Train To Georgia
Mood:

cheeky
Topic: "Chauncey Gardner"(7)

Peter Sellers was a comic genius. Remembered primarily as the indefatigable Inspector Clouseau of Pink Panther fame, Frodo believes that his film performances culminated, interestingly enough, in Washington, D.C., the setting for a cinematic portrayal which was profound, if not prescient.

He just suddenly appeared, not knowing who he was, where he had been, or where he was going. He stumbled through the high-crime area adjacent to Capitol Hill, innocently approaching the residents therein for information, if not directions. Listening intently, he absorbed bits of information which he then used to respond to further inquiries. Nearly everyone he came upon saw him as a non-threatening nincompoop, and, slowly, he seemed to present himself as one who was both uncomplicated and pleasant.

Somehow, and Frodo cannot remember exactly how, he began to present himself with the cognomen "Chauncey." He became "Chauncey, the gardener" because someone believed him to be the guy recently hired to weed the garden. The surname "Gardener" was assigned by Melvyn Douglas, whose attempted translation of doubletalk again produced answers which were proffered to supplant what the politician wanted to hear.

What brings this all to mind is that Frodo suddenly realized there were weak-minds all around him looking for someone different, someone who was pleasant, and who made things seem uncomplicated. They called him Herman Cain.

At the end of the movie, Chauncey is seen strolling above the sidewalk heading for Heaven knows where. He, if life does follow art, probably left behind another book contract and a string of motivational speeches. Just enough so that some people could hear exactly what they wanted to hear, even if it proved not to be true at all.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:39 PM EST

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Friday, October 28, 2011

We've Got Tonight, Who Needs Tomorrow?
Mood:

suave
Topic: "Beach Music" (7)

This week, Frodo was reminded of a tale he penned November 29, 2005, about a young man named Mehamed Gomez. If you have the time, and/or the interest, it is a pleasant trip back via GOOGLE to read the story, knowing that almost exactly six years later the young man would GOOGLE his own name, and find the story which Frodo had written about him. Frodo was refreshed learning that the young man had come across "two paths in a yellow wood," and that he had taken the one least traveled by. Frodo hopes that it will make all the ddifference.

The miracle of the Internet had helped Frodo to fashion that vignette which he had felt might promote a tug of a heartstring or two. Thinking about others is something that Frodo has noted as a disappearing fact in the lives of those who inhabit Middle Earth. He became philosophical in that regard when he heard the plethora of statistical data documenting the steadily increasing gulf between rich and poor. It strikes him hardest when he learns that the land encompassing the Shire is the site of the greatest disparity of all.

The nattering nabobs occasionally strike at the truth, as if there are indeed an infinite number of monkeys typing from infinite keyboards in order to produce all of the great works, and Frodo heard one say that the self-indulgence we experience is what characterizes our lack of apparent concern when exposed to the suffering of others. Frodo, too, falls subject thereto.

He leaves on the morrow, with Sam and Mick, the Wonder Dog, for an opulent celebration, in the sort of idyllic setting which tempts almost all. He will not take his PC, and shurely there will be an even greater absence of print journalism. There will be the black-and-white, but Frodo knows that the surf, sand, guided fishing, sea treats and hardbounds will dominate the days which introduce his entry to the midnight hours of human existence. He looks forward to walks with his canine friend, who has never seen salt water. He will bend and uproot shells with Sam, and he will tune out the mindless rhetoric which adds to his discomfort on Mount Doom.

There is guilt.

There is also the memory of Clarence Carter, the Tams, and the melodic interplay which helps to clear the fog. Frodo is looking for a dance floor, self-indulgent it may be.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 3:28 PM EDT

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Sunday, October 23, 2011

Tonight The Light Of Love Is In Your Eyes
Mood:

crushed out
Topic: "Alpha Dog"(7)

The story has been told of Lovey, the border collie who adopted Frodo and Sam and thereby re-defined the role of one "just like a child." She was an adult, and was the dog that should come into the life of everyone. Secured from the local animal shelter, the requirement was that she be spayed, and if there was ever a dog from whom one would want a puppy, well, that should explain itself.

Frodo and Sam made the decision as Lovey gracefully aged that they would adopt a puppy and let Lovey be the surrogate mother, teacher, and counselor. Fiona was but six weeks old, and this "runt of the litter," was everything anticipated, and more. She was so full of energy that she was wearing Lovey down, and the Hobbits quickly determined a need for a playmate. Thus entered Mick, the Wonder Dog, born 15 years ago on Mother's Day. Immediately Lovey sensed that this is he who would replace her, and she warmed quickly to the task at hand. Although Fiona was totally disinterested in being trained to do anything, she was an "alpha" personality, and Mick, the Wonder Dog, accepted his position in rank.

Lovey passed away with the light still in her eyes, and Mick, the Wonder Dog, became Frodo's companion. Fiona and Mick, the Wonder Dog, became fast friends however, and shared in all the adventures of good friends enjoying life with friends and family.

Time is given to us, and when it grows short, it is difficult to appreciate its wonder. The loss of Fiona occurred as Mick, the Wonder Dog, was diagnosed with a stage two cancer. At the same time, Dr. Porsches (the veterinarian who owns two motorcars because of Frodo) felt the need to remove eleven of the teeth of Mick, the Wonder Dog. It was a very trying time for all, but surely thought Frodo, it would be toughest on he who had never spent a single day as an "alpha."

Although Sam remains broken-hearted over the passing of Fiona, there is a determination to not seek out the gifts of the "puppy angel," until such time as the Hobbits are convinced that nothing threaten the role of the "alpha," known as Mick, the Wonder Dog. Amazing it is that he seems to be adjusting a little bit everyday, and uses his time wisely and appropriately.

In days now past Mick, the Wonder Dog, would capture a tennis ball bounced off a brick wall at the apogee and turn 180 degrees in mid-air to land facing Frodo and pacing to return the ball for another toss, and more after that. After his surgery the routine was abandoned, and most physical games were forgotten amid the miasma of sheer ssurvival.

Today, the weather has turned cooler, and the need for Frodo's companion to spend all of his daytime hours on an air-conditioning vent is not required. There was a bit of a spring in his step, as he sought out aromas on the wind and looked for activity in the underbrush. Frodo saw it first, an errant tennis ball, just sitting there, waiting.

Frodo picked up the tennis ball and began to bounce it on the driveway, soon his friend noted the activity, and it was as if a light had been switched on as a canine grin and flashing eyes awakened from slumber. Frodo gently bounced the ball off the wall of the house and Mick, the Wonder Dog, let it bounce twice, and he grabbed it without straining the pull of gravity. He turned to Frodo, and dropped the ball for a repeat of serve. All told, the game probably lasted three or four minutes, but it was two friends, with laughing eyes, making the best use of time available.

Mick, the Wonder Dog, carried the ball in his mouth back into the Shire itself, to show Sam, and to give Sam the honor of bouncing the ball about the kitchen.

He sleeps now, at the foot of the Hobbit, and he listens to the magical clatter of he Hobbit reflecting back on a day that was just plain perfect, both for the Hobbits, and for an alpha dog.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:15 PM EDT

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