Mood:  on fire

Although Frodo feels very strongly about many things, it is a rare event when he takes a moral stand on the motivations of an individual.  He has always respected the fact that human behavior results from a multitude of factors which are barely discernible, much less predictable.  There are however, as in many aspects of life, exceptions which merit assessment.  The conduct of a President of the United States while serving in that capacity, and for all the days that follow, is subject to certain expectations.

William Jefferson Clinton lied to a Grand Jury.  In the same situation, Frodo would also have probably lied.  It was, and remains, Frodo's position that a Man was trying to cover up his mistakes in order to spare the feelings of his wife, and his daughter.  Frodo will never stand to justify the action, but he understands that people make mistakes, and in the case of an elected official, he must pay the legal price.

William Jefferson Clinton holds a special position of prominence in the Democratic Party.  It is expected that he would stand, if asked, on behalf of the nominee of the Party, and, in fact, to campaign on behalf of any contender for the nomination.  It is improper, if nothing else, for the former President to campaign against any contender for that nomination, even if that contender was running against his wife.

Frodo has stood and cheered, on many occasions almost all alone, on behalf of William Jefferson Clinton.   It may be argued that William Jefferson Clinton could have accomplished even more had he not offered his personal conduct as a distraction during his term in office.  Regardless, much of what resulted from his leadership has benefited our country, and indeed, the world.  Criticism of his post-Presidency behavior is not something that Frodo puts forth lightly.

It is disheartening, if not embarrassing, to sit and watch as ambition blinds the conduct of otherwise good and noble people.  The candidacy of Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton (D-NY) for the Office of the Presidency is besmirched, in Frodo's eye, by the surrogate role played by the former President in his zeal to support his wife.  His presentations, both in method and in content, are what we came to expect from people named Segretti, Mitchell, Ehrlichman, and Colson.  

Frodo formally requests that William Jefferson Clinton let us get back on the high ground.  Let the battle be fought so that the inevitable wounds can be treated as badges of courage, and not left as seeping sores infecting all of the body politic.  

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:59 PM EST

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Mood:  party time!

With the exceptions of Hawaii and Florida, every State in the Grand Union was reporting at least one temperature below 32 degrees, Fahrenheit.  Frodo reminded himself of that news report when he heard that the record low this evening at Lake Lovey would fall somewhere below 9 degrees, Fahrenheit.  The black-and-white is full of stories about Arctic air masses blowing into football stadiums and warnings about the amount of time it takes for frostbite to develop on unprotected derma.  Frodo remembers his trip to Bimini.

Three boys from the College of the Shire piled into Frodo's Rambler Station Wagon and headed to the end of the highway.  By the time they reached Valdosta, it was warm enough to open the windows.  Two of them stripped almost nude, and just let the warm breezes blow across anatomical structures.  By the time the Sun arose, they were beyond exhaustion and looking for girls.  In Fort Lauderdale they struck paydirt.

A day or so later, a friend from the College of the Shire who was blessed by the Gods to live in Nirvana, told them about Bimini, the closest of the Bahama Islands to the US Border, and the fact that $25 would pay for a return plane ticket to this unknown Eden.  A brief trip to the Blood Bank ensured that all three had sufficient resources to seek out the apple trees and serpents that surely inhabited this land where no one wore clothes.  When finally they landed, and discovered that the 5-mile long island was only 50 yards wide, it did not take them long to figure out that the two roads, Kings Highway and Queens Highway, were each one way and pointing in separate directions.  Their first assignment was to find the cheapest bar in town.  That did not take very long.

The "End of the World Bar" had a hand-written sign afront with four misspelled words among the five total.  Dear reader, it was supposed to say "Don't Spit on the floor."  Frodo learned, somewhere between the fourth and fifth Mai-Tai, that the bar was a favorite haunt of two people known to him in infamy;  Ernest Hemingway and Adam Clayton Powell.  It was unlikely that Hemingway would appear that evening, but Frodo was thrilled to identify Adam Clayton Powell when he strolled into the bar, and promptly identified three suckers perhaps interested in providing him with free alcohol.  Despite that fact, it was a hoot, and a helluva time.

Driving back up the long peninsula was done in 15-mile segments by three exhausted, and starving, college students, who drove all night just to get somehere close to the College of the Shire by the time that classes began again.  Frodo cannot remember being cold again for at least another year.  Tonight he wonders if anyone has ever changed the sign outside the "End of the World," or how much a Mai-Tai costs there these days.

Any current input would be appreciated. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:25 PM EST

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Mood:  lucky

"D Boon Cilled a Bar On This Tree 1749."

The sentence above is a part of American History that Frodo fears means just a little bit less today than it did yesterday.  Would you, dear reader, admit to the fact that you had absolutely no idea that messages such as this were almost always carved into the bark of beech trees?  For it is true that Daniel Boone frequently inscribed his name into the soft bark of a beech tree, much in the same way that teenaged lovers in the Twentieth Century have done to catch the eye of any casual passerby.   It has been estimated that no beech tree more than fifty years of age today remains free of a carving, generally not much more than initials inside a roughly-hewn heart.  That is, of ourse, for the one known to Frodo and to Mick, the Wonder Dog.

The big beech tree stands alongside the road; minus several limbs sliced away by the local Power Company whenever they perceive a threat to an adjacent power line.  Behind its grand base, and the hearts inscribed on its trunk, there stands another beech, hidden amongst the umbrella magnolias and the mountain laurel.  Smaller it may be, but it is certainly at least 70 years of age, given its size, and the girth of its trunk.  It has not felt the inscription of a knife, of any kind.

Frodo is very jealous of the condition of his noble friend, and he checks on it every time he wanders into the paths entering the deep woods.  He feels a certin surreptitious satisfaction every time he notes the clear slate that helps to produce the chewy nut which cleansed the teeth of the Cherokee.  His travelling companion, the noble Wonder Dog, also knows the spot, and seems to smile and laugh with Frodo as they stroll, side-by-side, into the woods of Frost, albeit without the flakes of frozen precipitation.

Suddenly, the Wonder Dog freezes into full alert, and Frodo catches a full view of the fluffiest of white tail he has seen in many days.  Mick, the Wonder Dog, is tensed as the deer bounds into the gap at full speed.  He determines that pursuit would be futile, but he holds his pose.  He turns to Frodo, almost as if to say that the two of them should mark the spot.  In their own way, the best of friends, do exactly that.  They turn and walk away, side-by-side, with the last clean beech tree in all of the wild mountains behind them.

It stands there for you dear reader.  To someday be observed, and recalled as the spot where two good friends once noted God's gift, and left it as it was found.         

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:23 PM EST

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Mood:  accident prone

Frodo believes that a crime was committed several years ago.  Although he has no proof, the circumstantial evidence is that the character portrayed as "Gomer Pyle, USMC" (who played the character of the same name in the "Andy Griffith Show") was separated at birth from his twin-brother, Governor Mike Huckabee (R-AR).  In fact, Frodo believes that the bizarre behavior and public statements of this pseudo-Presidential contender reflect the assimilation of the image portrayed by Gomer #1.

Governor Huckabee, attempting Frodo believes to sound authentic to his potential constituentcy, had admitted to consuming squirrel meat prepared in a popcorn popper (Could anyone possibly make this up?).  Gomer #2 stated that this occurred while he was in college, and reflected attempts to supplement his meager caloric intake at that time.  Since the college would not allow students to "cook" in their rooms, he would use a popcorn popper to prepare the tree rodents for consumption.  Frodo remembers the "Valley Girl"admonition, "Gag me with a spoon."

Now, Gomer #2 has entered the slippery slope of the South Carolina State Flag, and told his onlooking audiences that the presence of the St. Andrews Cross on the flag is not a matter of concern by anyone outside the State itself.  It deserves special note that there weren't a whole lot of dark faces standing on the podium alongside Chuck Norris at this point.  The insensitivity of a modern-day Huey Long or, from Arkansas history, Orval Faubus, offers no service to Twenty-first century America.  

Frodo recalls that Gomer #1 had a pretty decent singing voice.  He was reminded of that watching Gomer #2 play "Wild Thing" on his electric guitar.   What concerns Frodo is that was a comedic actor who occasionally made sense.  It was a Presidential candidate that drew the horse laugh. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:01 AM EST

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Mood:  lazy

Frodo often thinks about places to rest.  Front porches with rocking chairs have a certain appeal, and so do old trees with natural back rests contoured to fit Hobbits of any size.  Sam has a "Florida Room" that overlooks the gardens of the Shire, and right now with a kerosene heater it offers a cozy retreat into over-stuffed reclining chairs.  At other times of the year, a revolving fan makes sufficient breeze to disperse concentrated sunlight.  A view, it seems to Frodo, has a lot to do with the attraction of a place to just sit.  Other environmental factors also come into play.

The State of Georgia, for true, is bisected by what has been dubbed "the gnat line."  Somewhere between the communities of Macon and Cordele, and extending from the Alabama border all the way to the Atlantic coast, the pesky little insects, tolerated by some and loathed by all, stake their claim to all that exists to the South.  Frodo has walked in fields where he had been assaulted only when he got halfway across.  It is as if, all of a sudden, he ambled into the jurisdiction of some alien life force who sought to defend its territory with the most terrible weapon at its disposal.  Frodo cannot imagine trying to just sit and rest someplace permeated by such an interruption.

The reason that all of this comes to bare is that Frodo has been thinking about an extension of the Shire that will further minimize his exposure to cold weather.  Lake Lovey provides a delightful haven, but certainly not in the depths of winter.  The Shire has its home fires, but the dreaded onset of "cabin fever" affects Frodo after only a few days of inclement weather.  Frodo needs a place to "sits and thinks" during Januarys and Februarys to come, but that also means that he exposes himself to the denizens on the other side of "the gnat line."

These are the kinds of situations where Frodo wishes somebody like Barack Obama could provide leadership.  Problems should not be unsurmountable; there should always be hope that a solution to even the most confounding situation will eventually yield resolution.  If not this problem, then maybe he can tackle our dependency on foreign oil. 

Perhaps things will be clearer if Frodo just rests on it for a while.    

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:00 PM EST

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Mood:  hug me

Frodo will always be Frodo, but if Frodo were anyone else, ever, he would be Larry McMurtry.  Somewhere in his life and times, Larry McMurtry got to know Pea-Eye, and Deets, Clara, Blue Duck, but most of all, he must've known Augustus and Woodrow.  Frodo is very, very envious, and wishes that he could have spent even a single afternoon with the inspirations for the trilogy that began with "Lonesome Dove."

It is rare that Frodo watches a movie, then seeks out the book.  Generally, it occurs in the obverse.  The score behind the video still swells Frodo's eyes however, and he feels the saddle between his legs as he guides his horse down and across one more river on the way to Montana.   Dust is everywhere, and he can smell blowing storms in the wind.  Most of all, his friend rides beside him, the only constant in a wandering life.  In all, it is a reality of time past and the way that others lived, but Frodo feels something deep inside that tells him these are feelings not unknown to his very soul.

Ah, but the book, the book paints an even different picture of who these people were, and the characters actually soar beyond the unforgettable performances of Tommy Lee Jones, James Garner, Robert Duvall, Anjelica Huston.  Indeed, as Augustus meets his end in Miles City he labels the times they had as a "party."  Then the trek begins, back to Lonesome Dove, when two friends travel together for the last time; a promise kept.

Legolas and Frodo have difficulty talking about friendship.  They often call each other "Cap'n," knowing that each understands the inference in his own way, without some psychological evaluation of the circumstances.  

Another segment of "Comanche Moon," the prequel in the trilogy, will be on the black-and-white in a few moments.  Although not nearly as moving as its predecessors, there is an aura which draws Frodo to prepare for the looming  Comanche attack.  There is also a conflict with coverage of the political debate in Las Vegas.

No there isn't.   Woodrow needs someone to cover his back. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:33 PM EST

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Mood:  d'oh

The Brotherhood of the Ring was formed to defeat Sauron's quest for possession of the Ring itself.  Destroying the Ring, by casting it into the fires at Mount Doom, was the task taken by Frodo and his friends when no one else seemed willing to step forward.  Overcoming the fears of all the Citizens of Middle Earth, the Brotherhood helped to unite all of Man in a struggle against great evil.  It is not to be taken lightly therefore when Frodo takes umbrage with the sanity of some of those who share our small, blue planet.  The following however is a reflection of people whose clocks are wound far too tightly.

In the Old Testament, the Book of Isaiah, Chapter 35, there is a reference in the text to "God's holy highway."  A group of parishoners in Texas (surprise, surprise, surprise) have determined that this reference happens to correspond in logic to Interstate 35 (I-35, as in Isaiah 35), which runs north-and-south from Texas up to Minnesota.  They righteously believe that the Interstate should be legislatively addressed as the "Holiness Highway," in much the same manner that certain aspects of the Interstate Highway System are dubbed for persons, events, or other significant references.  The source of this belief is that 7000 years ago God, obviously, was instructing the righteous as to what they needed to do once Texas had joined the Colonies after obtaining its freedom from Mexico.  It should be noted however, that God would've been very unhappy had this occurred while Texas was in an insurgent state before the end of the Civil War. 

Frodo knows about all of this because he watches CNN.  Frodo believes CNN is actually the "Christian News Network," and that everything he hears there is actually the word of God.  People who complain about CNN are therefore not righteous, and they will be required to spend all of eternity watching re-runs of the New Hampshire Primary.

Frodo has never followed a single lane of the sacred trail to Canada.  Somehow he always looked at that direction as being God forsaken.    

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:56 PM EST

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Mood:  lucky

Frodo and Sam, both of whom are certified motorcar drivers, happen to possess three such transportation vehicles.  One of the motorcars serves as Frodo's transportation to-and-from Mount Doom.  Sam's motorcar, is that which was purchased to ensure Sam's safety back-and-forth on the roads which led to the gallant Howard during the last of his days.  That motorcar replaced the motorcar which, predominantly used by Sam, has been used to complete tasks in the Shire, and it is co-piloted by Fiona, and Mick, the Wonder Dog.   Frodo admits that it was his assumption that vehicle number two was to replace vehicle number three.

The problem seems to be that Mick, the Wonder Dog, seeks to maintain possession of vehicle number three.  Most days, while Frodo slaves at Mount Doom and while Sam is otherwise occupied, Mick, the Wonder Dog, engages his agile mind by taking his place in the middle of the back seat of the said "third" vehicle.  The motorcar storage facility is dark and quiet, perhaps allowing Mick, the Wonder Dog, to imagine himself as a canine version of Dale Earnhardt and daydream his way through visions of Daytona and Indianapolis.  Sam recently reported that, on one fine day, Mick, the Wonder Dog, spent five consecutive hours in "his" motorcar.

Frodo's reason tells him that Mick, the Wonder Dog, merely maintains a position which ensures that he will not be left behind should the opportunity for a (shhh, this word must be spelled, for Mick, the Wonder Dog, comprehends the pronunciation of R-I-D-E) arise.  Frodo has thought about it however, and has decided that he might as well apply for a driver's certification on behalf of Mick, the Wonder Dog.  After all, if Mick, the Wonder Dog, has the capability to engage transportation on his own, it may free Sam for more important assignments on behalf of Frodo.  Actually, considering that the certification would come from the State of Georgia, it is not unlikely that Mick, the Wonder Dog, would pass the written exam with a higher score than most.  Imagine if he lived in either Alabama or Texas; he might actually score high enough to be a chauffeur.

The continuing drought has meant that Frodo has been unable to routinely wash the motorcars.  Mick's motorcar, the Wonder Car, is especially unkempt, and inside, the presence of cast-off canine plumage is in sufficient quantity to perhaps weave another dog, if so desired.  There is also an odiferous recognition of continuing doggie presence which strikes even the casual passerby.  This morning Frodo noted a sharp-shinned hawk perched atop the motorcar; perhaps fooled into thinking that the vehicle contained some other edible life form.  It matters not to Mick, the Wonder Dog.  Today he, once again, got to go for a R-I-D-E in his motorcar to the local Publix, where everybody knows his name.

Perhaps Frodo should have named him "Norm."

One thing is for sure, that for as long as he occupies it, and perhaps for a long time thereafter, he is welcome to stay.  Look, dear reader, for a big black dog in an old Volvo Station Wagon, and yell out "Hello Mick, Going for a R-I-D-E?" 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 5:20 PM EST

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Mood:  down

Bill Schneider, a Pooh Bear masquerading as a political commentator on CNN, was being grilled by Lou Dobbs a few days ago.  Frodo generally watches just enough of Lou Dobbs to hear him refer to the Bush Administration as "incompetent," thereby obtaining his daily fix, and then heads on to some other activity.  He heard something however that caught his attention, and his professorial analytical buttons all started to ignite.  Dobbs, whose "War on the Middle Class" and "Immigration" discussions inspire channel changers all over Middle Earth, queried Schneider as to why "Immigration" was not identified by New Hampshire voters as among their "Top 5" concerns.  "Because," said Schneider, "they weren't asked."

Dobbs was speechless, since he consistently refers to "Immigration" as one off the most discussed concerns by nearly everyone with whom he associates.  Schneider went on to explain that, in New Hampshire, a consortium of polling organizations had "honed down" the topics identified.  The pollsters had unilaterally decided that "Immigration" was probably not that big an issue, and therefore did not include it in the list made available to respondees.  Dobbs was ready to shoot somebody, and Frodo just stood there, shaking his head.

Dear reader, the scientist with whom most of us have the most frequent contact is the medical practitioner.  The "doctor" examines us when we don't feel good, and he, or she, does so by asking us questions and examining suspected sources for our discomfort.  Imagine, if you will, what might be the consequence if the "doctor" left out one of the "tests" which a conscientious diagnostician would automatically include in a routine examination.  Something, indeed, might be overlooked, if only to a single patient.  Why, then, would a professional pollster leave out something, and thereby risk a misjudgment of fact?

Frodo's analysis of the results of the New Hampshire Primary does not reflect anything beyond the numbers.  Projections for a close-to double digit percentage victory by Barack Obama were levelled by a single-digit victory by Hillary Clinton.  Given the fact that nearly every other aspect of prediction was "on the button," it is logical to concentrate entirely on the variance between these two candidates.  The "swing" between the "projection" and the "result" was approximately 20,000 total votes.  20,000 voters, in other words, did something other than what the pollsters predicted.  That represents about 4% of the total votes cast.

Frodo leaves the pundits as this point.  20,000 voters does not represent a lot of people telling somebody they would vote for a black guy, then doing something else.  20,000 voters does not represent total feminine outrage against an unfair process.  20,000 voters does not represent a significant presence, or absence, by any group of potential voters.  20,000 voters, to Frodo, represent the emotional swing that falls one way or another on any given day in any given election involving a half-million voters or so.  Could a "sob story" have produced enough empathy to have influenced 20,000 voters?  Would it not have been wise for the pollsters to have asked?

If those voters were black, or female, or Jewish, or Latino, among others, and they identified themselves with the discomfort of the candidate, the answer is "Undoubtedly."  Frodo adds, that in a multi-candidate environment, such as a Primary, the probability is increased by the potential lack of committment to any single candidate.  What may be true in New Hampshire, may not be the case when an election is "Mano-a-Mano" (with all due apologies to Non-Manos).

Tell me Frodo ain't the cat's pajamas when it comes to post-election analysis?  Tim Russert can eat his shorts.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:55 PM EST

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Mood:  smelly

Frodo has been thinking about what life would be like in the Shire once the Ring is destroyed.  These were the kind of thoughts he knew as a young Hobbit, when the future was the only thing in his pocket.  Crippling responsibilities and horizons which are no longer limitless require that he couch every such contemporary dream with the possibility of disappointment.  The enthusiasm he once offered for every morning ray of sunshine is now the satisfaction of a completed evening's voyage.  Such it is that requires he ask of each and every reader to purchase some "Handi-wipes" for future application.  A Great Day is at hand.

On that day to come, a colossal number of "Handi-wipes" will be required in order to erase every fingerprint, every footfall, and indeed every shadow from the house known as White.  "Cleanliness," it is said, "is next to Godliness."  No matter who assumes the role of Aragorn on that Great Day, it will be a monumental task to once again emulate Camelot.  The Maker will expect all of the Citizens of Middle Earth to participate in the douche of anything left behind by the Incomparable Moron.

Those who vote, whether or not in behalf of winner or loser, should wait until the final piece of furniture is loaded onto the last moving van, and then, in alphabetical order, commence to cleanse the floors, the rafters, the baseboards, and the toilets.  All of the bed linens should be soaked in bleach.  Every mirror should be examined to insure that no one can stand on the other side, unobserved.  Telephones and electrical switches should all be cleansed of any variety of "bug."

The Great Day cannot come soon enough.  Frodo hopes that his suggestion will also add to the stock value of the maker of "Handi-wipes."  The boys on Wall Street need all the help we can give them.     

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:09 PM EST

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