The Nature of a Good Compromise…

…is that both side are equally dissatisfied. 

There has long been a joke about Martin Luther King’s eponymous avenues/streets/boulevards, across this great land, often being epicenters of gang violence and other negative social activity. Having driven about the megalopolis that is Los Angeles, I can safely apply this rule to any street named after a famous person. Even Buddy Holly has some nasty swath of asphalt running underneath the 101 at Cohuanga.

 

Last minute deliveries set us in the van at 7 PM last night, just in time to listen to the 21st/22nd/40th Democratic debate on NPR. I appreciate having listened to it on the radio if only because sight may have multiplied the revulsion I feel for both candidates at this point. I am so bored of watching Barack Obama, elite in every sense of the word, try to pretend he is some normal dude. Didn’t we elect a normal dude/idiot? He messed up real good.

 

I don’t see what is so wrong about electing someone who doesn’t bowl, but rather goes to law school. I like Hill drinking whisky, but Crown Royal? What ever happened to Jameson’s? I think Obama should give up on the racist, stupid white folk, move to California, get his Marijuana grower’s license, and win the popular vote on the back of stoner, non-voters. There are more than a few holes in this plan, but in this election, every plan looks like swiss cheese.

 

Thanks to some generous benefactors, I was able to put gas in Scott’s car this morning. It was $3.94/gal. Ouch. 

Self-Deprecation.

So we got chewed out yesterday. After getting off to a bad start for the day, things continued to spiral downward. Scott and I were sat down for a talk. It was condescending. The problem with monkey labor is that if you do screw up, you probably deserve the kind of lecture we got. I felt like I was sitting in Peg Nickerson’s office watching her chain smoke and tell me how much smarter than me she is/was. Oh, to be in sixth grade again. 

 

Problems solved and no jobs lost, although, as it turns out, there is a moderate expectation that we show up on time. I always thought the appointed hour was more of a suggestion, a framework like that of Middle East peace, to be followed loosely, if at all, in probably achieving nothing. Lesson learned.

 

The whole situation, not to bemoan this too much, reminded me of my innagural call to Talk of the Nation on NPR. Bill Simmons, a hero of mine from ESPN, was discussing the NCAA tournament, and I felt I had something pertinent to share. I am the first caller on the archive and I was awkward and nervous. I’m not even sure I understand what I said. Just disappointing all around. I hope Neil Cohen will take my call again. I might be blacklisted.

I’m glad to hear my family’s beloved patriarch is Wii’ing until his heart is content . The image alone is enough to make me happy for days. I look forward to the Rosenberg Olympiad 2009, in which boxing will not be included.