Frodo, Keeper of the Ring

Thursday, June 13, 2013

I Hear You Knocking, But You Can't Come In
Mood:

bright
Topic: "Snowed-in"(9)

Frodo has advocated, from time-to-time, that there is no problem confronting the citizens of Middle Earth which is, in-and-of-itself, unique. From natural disasters to despotism, from scientific discoveries to the plague there are no new problems, only a changing capacity to respond. With this thought in mind, Frodo has marveled at the discourse concerning the contract employee formerly directed by Booz, Allen & Hamilton who has admitted to violating the top secret security clearance issued to him by the National Security Agency. Most interesting has been the variance between those who believe the young man has committed treason, and those who applaud him for disclosures which seemingly protect the national right to privacy.

Recognizing that his life has changed forever, the young man has set upon the task of finding himself a new homeland. Communicating from Hong Kong, and its proximity to the Chinese mainland, gives an automatic direction toward those hackers/hackees who recognize the value of data mining in the face of one's major economic opponent. At the same time, our subject himself suggested other possible ports in his personal storm including, of all places, Iceland.

Frodo remembered from his past voyages in that part of Middle Earth that said suggestion is particularly appropriate. The USAF base at Keflavik has long been a presence of protection and rescue services for this NATO ally. Said factoid would make it a remote possibility that the Icelandic government would grant sanctuary to one sought by the most powerful nation on our small blue planet. However, the truth is that Iceland has a proud history of dealing with individuals, be they undesirables or merely of questionable morality. It is obvious that our violator may not know of what Frodo speaks.

There is no capital punishment in Iceland. What they do is take an individual out into the very middle of this barren landscape, and leave him. No one has ever returned.

Mr. Snowden's "genius" in information technology would be put to the max. Unfortunately the "Escape" button would be frozen, as would he.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 1:56 PM EDT

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Sunday, June 9, 2013

What The World Needs Now
Mood:

spacey
Topic: "Sunday, Sunday"(9)

Frodo has purchased a new motorcar. There is no pleasure greater than the flawless performance of something new and sleek, that smells good and draws the attention of friends and neighbors. Unless, of course, one fails to eliminate winning the Power Ball from consideration.

Frodo has had many new (and some not-so-new) cars, but there is something different about this time, and it relates to the ever-changing technology which either adds to our freedom, or detracts from it, neither of which provide an encompassing response thereto. Frodo was particularly attracted to the sun roof, which stretches all atop the vehicle, but in typical Frodo historiography, he began to push buttons before reading the instructions. The ominous color and passing of clouds forced the need for Frodo to halt progress, and to enlist Sam into the fray.

As the Hobbits ventured further afield, they noted that the motorcar was not evidencing any leaks at all amid the downpour which followed them into the parking lot of the retail establishment. Frodo was grateful. They found neither was familiar with exactly how one not only turned the wiper, the air conditioning, and the radio off, but they were mutually unable to halt the engine itself. Frodo felt like an inauspicious fool until noting the same occurrence in two or three other cars in the same parking lot. Evidence, he supposes, that the economy is performing far better than alleged by Mitt Romney or John Boehner.

Frodo's new car does not have a key. Instead he has a "bauble" which he carries in a pocket so that it can communicate with the locking system to disengage whenever Frodo ventures near the parked motorcar. It is supposed to work thus in reverse, but Frodo was unable to verify that new feature upon his return to the parking lot. Short of an emergency call to the dealership, Frodo found a secondary path and followed necessary instructions.

Sam was able to get the "media system" up and running. It is filled however with celtic and highland claptrap, all of which draws Frodo away from true American musical artistry. Frodo will learn how to override in the immediate future.

There is a television camera arears which, it need be added, was a primary attraction to the increasingly stiff-necked Hobbit who found this as an alternative to spinal dexterity lost moons ago. Now Frodo can concentrate on the camera playback on his dashboard, and manuver in reverse without dimembering small children or fauna alongside the driveway. Unfortunately, Frodo has already learned that concentrating on the dashboard discourages attention paid to the road ahead. Sam's heart is in tatters already.

Frodo's father had amazing mechanical skills, but he was terribly close-minded to technology, having stated on numerous occasions that such devices were merely "one more thing to go wrong." Frodo wonders what he would have thought of a "bluelink" telephone which completes calls without any charges for long distance. In truth, he would probably have identified it as a "communist tool" somehow enriching Standard Oil of New Jersey.

Frodo's father would also have objected to the national origin of the automaker. But that remains for another story, on another day. Until then, one may find Frodo, pushing buttons, and wondering why he can't get the frost off the windshield.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:07 PM EDT

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Sunday, June 2, 2013

Does Anybody Really Know What Time It IS?
Mood:

quizzical
Topic: "Power Surge"(9)

Frodo was unsettled by the message from an old friend, telling him that her son didn't think that the struggle for civil rights was "all that bad." Surely, there was no need for a brain surgeon or a rocket scientist to get involved in a debate that reflected ideological bigotry at the expense of human progress. It was the rumble of thunder in the distance that brought the Hobbit to a halt, and seemingly made him remember that he was supposed to be limping on gimpy knees.

It does not seem that long ago when there was no water in the Shire. Frodo was prevented from washing his motorcar or bringing relief to the scorched flora therein. Now, however, it rains every day, tornadoes cast a scythe across the plains, temperatures rise with the stock markets, and fall, similarly, without explanation. The only constant is the trembling of canine companions at the foot of Frodo, looking for him to bring a halt to the insanity. Frodo, alas, has no answers to questions so basic, and still it rains.

For many days Frodo dreamed of a time when multiple targets at the end of an open road would beckon to receive the Hobbits and their companions. When the great water dish in the sky grew too cold, the beaches would beckon, then a balance would be struck whenever the gardens of the Shire required Frodo's guiding hand. How foolish was the Hobbit, for none of honor can retreat from the libertarian and the reactionary who avoid the simplest of truths, in the name of money and/or power. Joseph McCarthy did not die, he was genetically re-tooled.

Frodo will do better. He will speak louder. He will send money. He will not suffer in silence listening to the prattle of those children who worship amid the flies on the head of a pig. Others should do the same.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:07 PM EDT

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Thursday, May 23, 2013

Down the Mississippi, Down to New Orleans
Mood:

not sure
Topic: "Promises to Keep"(9)

He sat by his Mother's bed, as he told Frodo, and shortly before she passed asked him to promise her that he would enter the priesthood. Frodo did not comment, he knew this was not the goal his friend had set for himself. Perhaps that is why the two Hobbits moved on with their lives, never the twain to cross again. Frodo, now much older, is indeed wiser, and he has directly avoided similar circumstances in his dealings with people who ask for promises.

Bilbo was a master of the harangue. As the end time grew closer and closer, Bilbo repeatedly sought his committment to make sibling peace. Frodo had no intention of so doing, at least while Bilbo lived, for Bilbo was much the reason that the next generation collapsed. Despite best efforts subsequently, peace was "the next gale that sweeps from the North . . . bring the clash of resounding arms" and the conflict endures. It may have been the first, but it was certainly not the last.

Frodo was fooled by one he thought a friend, but that did not stop him from finally making a death-bed promise. His loyalty and affection for the now departed's spouse erased the treachery of one who was prepared to ask a favor. Frodo took the initiative however, without disclosing his knowledge of the actions so characteristic of the renegade. Before the words were stated, Frodo said, "I will take care of her, and see that she is safe." He responded back with relief and a smile, and the back slap which Frodo knew signaled only his relief, and not a scintilla of affection.

Today, the fortress is strong. Safety, security, and the turning of a page to new levels of excitement and mental ingenuity are in her possession. It was an overlong and overdrawn process, clear to Frodo at the very beginning, but obstructed by those with barely half enough information. Frodo is sure that the source of the initial promise is pleased, but Frodo knows that he is now cleared for his final trial, most probably in the Seventh Circle (or in the Republican Caucus of the House of Representatives). Now Frodo can go fishing with Sam, and never think of that prick again.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:08 PM EDT

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Sunday, May 19, 2013

I'm Out of Touch
Mood:

caffeinated
Topic: "The Great Quixote" (9)

Frodo has always wondered if others think about being "out of step." Occasionally, he will hear someone disparage something or someone he particularly admires, and that doesn't bother him nearly as much as someone giving "rock star status" to something or someone that Frodo can't fathom. Frodo has written previously about "Don Quixote," and he has assumed that the cultural differences therein are the reason he believes this to be among the most boring books ever published. It does not however, explain the fact that he ranks "The Great Gatsby" similarly. In fact, only "Silas Marner"amongst all of English literature brings back horrific memories beyond those presented to Frodo by F.Scott Fitzgerald.

In recent days, science has reversed itself when the "happiness" and "self-satisfaction" considerations of the wealthy are put under the microscope. Until now, we have been lead to believe that "money can't buy happiness." Frodo has always questioned said principle, and is somewhat elated to find that science now supports his opinion (rare as that may be). This explains, at least in the mind of Frodo, that the ever-widening gap between rich and poor is probably nothing more than evasive propaganda emanating from those who have it, and don't wish to explain why they want to keep it. It also allows Frodo a little slack when he draws up a plan to distribute to the deserving his anticipated winnings in the Power Ball each and every time he plays.

Money is good. Money is something that one earns and uses to purchase needs and wants. Obviously, satisfying one's needs is paramount.

Perhaps that is why Frodo found such inspiration in "The Grapes of Wrath;" the struggle of hard-working people is to be admired. It may explain also why the Hobbit was unable to identify with the dry martini lifestyle featured in Gatsby. Robert Redford will always be "The Sundance Kid," and the new guys in the new movie release have captured nothing revolutionary in Frodo's opinion of Mitt Romney.

Frodo's point isn't really so nebulous. Rich people, for the most part, do suck, and the books they write about themselves have chapters too long for bathroom exposition.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 2:48 PM EDT

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Saturday, May 18, 2013

I've been Hurt, Hurt, Hurt, 'Cause You Cheated On Me
Mood:

accident prone
Topic: "Hopalong Frodo"(9)

In his fifteenth year, Frodo made an ill-advised maneuver upon the sands. His knee turned abnormally and the resultant swelling locked his leg in place for many days. Frodo was reminded of that old injury lo these many years past when the slightest twist brought about an inability to manage the simplest of motor skills. Frodo's chagrin has been matched by the watchful care provided by Sam, and frustration in the activities of Dandy and Tess. "What use," they think, "is a Hobbit who cannot walk, much less run?"

The unfortunate injury, not unlike the silver lining upon the clouds blowing past his window to the wind, provides Frodo with an opportunity to catch up on a number of internal assignments including this posting. The capacity to be outside is a driving force in the activities of the Hobbit, so this "catch up" time, although frustrating, offers him the appearance of organization.

Frodo also did a little research, resulting from the trivial television performance of the House Ways and Means Committee. William Loeb and Michael Dolan were names from Frodo's past which came to mind as he watched the public humiliation of Steven Miller, soon-to-be the Ex-Acting Commissioner of the Internal Revenue Service. "Billy" Loeb, as the highest ranking civil servant in that organization during the Nixon Administration, was the man who raised his middle finger to H.R. Haldeman and told him that he would not initiate investigations of any of the Presidential enemies list. He added that he would leave said meeting and go directly to the office of the Washington Post if necessary. Frodo discovered, as he had feared, that this very brave civil servant passed away in 2006, at the age of 94.

Mike Dolan works for KPMG in a very senior position. Serving as Acting Commissioner on more than one occasion, Mike endured the last major "scandal" involving the Internal Revenue Service during the early years of Ronald Reagan's tutelage. Mike began his Congressional Record testimony with the words "I'm Sorry." Mike knew that most of the assertions of poor service and harassment laid before him were basically false, but without the permission of the taxpayer to disclose the facts and circumstances of the case, it would be illegal for him to even acknowledge awareness of the cases at hand. Unsurprisingly, none of the ten or so complainants gave their permission to such a disclosure. Mike Dolan is the supreme example of "grin and bear it."

Watching that little twit from Kansas or that corpulent fool from Texas (aren't they all?) or the puddle-jumper from Pennsylvania each expend their five minutes of fame in ignorance of the facts while on CSpan, Frodo put his index finger down his throat and puked. Our nation, it seems, turns it's lonely eyes toward those unwilling to seek the truth. Frodo knows that this, too, shall pass, it's just a shame that it is at such cost.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:41 AM EDT

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Monday, May 6, 2013

Jim Dandy to The Rescue, Go Jim Dandy
Mood:

lazy
Topic: "Honey Dew List"(9)

Ever since his return to the Shire after the assault on Mount Doom, Frodo has met each challenging day with a plan for success. Until today, that is. It is unseasonably cold and rainy in almost all of Middle Earth, with the kleinstadt Seattle noted as the warmest spot in all the land. Frodo has been left with minor assignments that have been on the "to do" list for countless months, simply because their relative unimportance is exceeded only by the boredom they generate. Frodo has been saved the humility of a "lost day" only by the similar level of boredom achieved by the largest of his Shire residential assistants.

Dandy is a mountain dog. He is happiest when he establishes himself in a pastoral mode atop the highest hilltop, boulder, or pinic table. From such a position of paramount presence he is able to observe the slightest movement by enemy combatants, wolves, squirrels, or Mr. Beau Neau McKitty. He will retreat to a lower level when in pursuit or whenever Tess forays too close to his perch. Should none of these responsibilities occur within a reasonable amount of time, he will seek out friend Frodo and nip him in the groin, thereby enlisting Frodo's participation in canine olympic trials.

While Dandy and Tess nap prior to the commencement of their favorite television show (cuddled up on the couch with Sam and "General Hospital"), Frodo is downloading his digital camera to his computer. Today, the task is photographs, forcing Frodo to make quality judgments about moments in time going back several months. Suddenly, Frodo remembered why he had relegated the tasks involved to such a low priority. There stood Mick, the Wonder Dog, in all his statuesque nobility, nose to the wind, one last time. Frodo's eyes grew misty, and he lingered long and breathless over the countenance of his old friend in what now seems a time so long past.

Just then Dandy entered the room in possession of "chewies" earlier distributed to both Dandy and Tess. Dandy made it clear that he wished to take all the valuables to the backyard of the Shire, and to surreptitously make mental notes of where he would relocate the entirety of treasure. Haste was indicated, especially since Tess was still napping.

"Yoicks, the fox," thought Frodo, as the two conspirators quietly tippy-toed through the basement and into the soggy landscape. Once their task was accomplished, Dandy looked up at his hero and he laughed, in the way that only a brigand can laugh, while making mischief. Every day it seems has its blessings, it's just that sometimes it takes a black heart in order to create a wry grin. Dandy and Frodo are well on the way to terrorizing the innocent whenever duty calls.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 2:53 PM EDT

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Thursday, May 2, 2013

Good Times Never Seemed So Good
Mood:

party time!
Topic: "Hotel Plimhimmon"(9)

In the land that used-to-be but never was, the Hobbit and the Fellowship learned that failure to impress best took place beneath the sun and upon the sand. The beach afforded them the opportunity to wash away their pain in the surf. Later they could stroll the boardwalk, and sneer at the tight little butts that continued walking, in the other direction. Eventually they'd split a six-pack of tall boys and consume English's Chicken boxes, each of which fed "10-12 hungry people."

Frodo thought about those immortal days of yesteryear while straining against the leashes of Dandy and Tess. Sam walked head down, in search of protective armor which once offered relative safety to indistinguishable living creatures. The empty vacation beaches are a marvel unto themselves, but Frodo actually thought he heard the Drifters talking about hot dogs and french fries, out of the sun. Rubbing his eyes he was startled by the long porch and the thousands of rocking chairs peopled by those who contentedly rocked hour upon hour in Frodo's memory.

How the Fellowship laughed at the thought of rocking the days away on the porch of the Plimhimmon. There were waves to catch, tans to develop, subs to consume, and girls everywhere. How droll they thought, that even a single moment would be spent in a wooden rocking chair in the shade no less. Never once did any think of the day that would inevitably come when they might actually seek one for themselves.

This would not be such a day for Frodo. The hotel disappeared in the mist, and Dandy found something gross upon which to roll, while Tess decided that it actually looked tasty. Sam added the thirty-fifth empty scallop shell to the collection, and Frodo looked out to sea.

From the park he could hear a carousel. He wished.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:26 PM EDT

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Friday, April 19, 2013

Bird, Bird, Bird, Bird is The Word
Mood:

accident prone
Topic: "Seems Like Yesterday"(9)

Repetitive old Frodo, thinking back amongst the halcyons when little Peeper first joined the Shire, setting the stage for the current representative of the avian democrats. Sydney was but six months old, and soon found himself as the tutee in all matters regarding fertility. Sad it was when Sydney eventually found himself all alone, except that is when it came to dinner time. He watches himself in a full-length mirror and eats whatever he wants whenever. Sydney is also subject to fits of screech that rival any chalkboard.

Tess, not unlike most Shire residents past and present, has been fascinated by the swooping cockatiel vaulting from cabinet top to the shoulder of the Hobbit and back again. Unsurprising it was that she finally nade contact with the target. Sam was quick to the scene, but age combined with shock bodes ill for the continuing good fortune of Frodo's friend from down under. He moves about his cage, and he squawks at the Hobbit from time to time, but he did not eat any this day, and his head appears to lean noticeably left. He has not tried to fly to familiar perches in Sam's kitchen.

It is hard to be angry with Tess. It is easier to write things off as the simple expectation of friends who come and go in each of our many lives. Sydney may look, and scream, like normal in the morrow, but his stay in the Shire is not endless no matter. Frodo will miss his calls to cousins who flit about the Shire in desperate search of the wealth that is Sydney's without effort. He has served his responsibilities well, and he actually smiles at Frodo whenever the Hobbit whistles his favorite tune, "Peeper, Peeper, Peeper."

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:05 PM EDT

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Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Look At The Night, Now It Don't Seem So Lonely
Mood:

don't ask
Topic: "The Boston Massacre"(9)

Frank Shorter won a Gold Medal when he finished first in the marathon at the 1972 Olympics in Munich. He has often remarked about the horror he saw that first day when the ski-masks appeared on the balcony. Forty one years later, Frank Shorter ran in yesterday's marathon in the City of Boston. His first thoughts, as he relaxed just beyond the finish line, were "Oh no, not again." It is unlikely that anyone else in the entire world played such an active role in both events.

Frodo was close by when the 1996 Olympics yielded something more than the skills of Edwin Moses and the insanity of Eric Rudolph. Hawkeye Pierce and those who portray him for real performed admirably and ran to assist the really wounded, as if they really were dressed in fatigues and unloading choppers while "Suicide is Painless" accompanied their acts of heroism.

There it was, as Frank Shorter said, and young Martin Richard was declared dead by the young surgeon, only moments after hugging his favorite runner, at the finish line. Oh no. Hawkeye Pierce had to yield to Father Mulcahy, again.

It may be a long, long time before that which motivated the perpetrator is known. After all, Boston is the home of the real "Tea Party," and it was the 15th of April and our taxes were all due, and the Government of North Korea was celebrating, and the Saudis announced that they were authorizing women to drive motorcars, and the Governor and the President were both black. Surely, thinks one, that one or more of these arguments justify the end of small lives by small explosions.

The very first marathoner collapsed, and died, as he delivered the message that motivated the first 26.2 mile trek. Frodo has always thought that someone would have to be crazy to follow in those footsteps. Perhaps he has learned that the real craziness is in the throngs that watch, with nothing else to do, again. Henry Blake's lament lives for all time.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:53 PM EDT

Updated: Tuesday, April 16, 2013 10:57 PM EDT

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