My Favorite Things 2008

What Sports Clips can't do for my hair, Blurb does for my ego.

My favorite online business of 2008 is Blurb.com, a nifty do-it-yourself book publishing site that takes all the feelings of failure and inadequacy out of self-publishing and adds a little bit of pride.

I discovered Blurb thanks to my favorite interview of 2008, Che Grand, who had a link to the site on his blog. It was like a whole new world of ways to fill/waste my time had opened up to me.

Blurb sells what they call "bookstore-quality books" and they ain't lying. The print quality is terrific on the pages and the covers, and you can pay extra for "premium paper." The binding for the hardcover and paperbacks seem sturdy, too.

To get started, all you have to do is download their free bookmaking software, which provides all the templates and tools needed to create something really fresh looking.

The program can be a little frustrating at times (I had quite a few shutdown errors when working with lots of pictures), but if you're patient things will come out just fine.
The best thing is you can get as deep into it as you want. You can go mad tweaking every little detail or be a lazy ass and let the program automatically create something for you.

I've seen some really great photo and art books on the site all done by dudes like you and me, except maybe a little more talented. I made a nice coffee table photo book for my wife in honor of our fifth anniversary last September and it came out great, except where I wrote on the dust jacket that we were married in 2006, not 2003. Dumb.

And that's the problem with self-publishing. You really need another set of eyes to proof it.

Blurb recently added a new product, the black and white text book, which I promptly took as a sign from God that I should compile a greatest hits book of columns and make people open them at Christmas.

It turned out to be 148 pages of blissful hilarity, a true Christmas miracle, and it can be yours too for the low, low price of $8.95 ($23.95 for the hardcover edition), plus Blurb's insanely high charge of $7.94 for ground shipping. Just click the advertisement at the top right of this page to order. You'll be glad you did. And if you see any mistakes, just keep it to yourself.

My Favorite Things 2008

Bruce's Barber Shop, Princeton, Iowa

Sports Clips
For someone who cares so much about his hair, I am a cheapskate when it comes to haircuts.
From the $7 hatchet jobs at Great Clips to $45 fancy boy cuts in New York City, I'm rarely satisfied with the finished product, so I've decided I might as well pay as little as possible for my dissatisfaction.
No one seems to be able to match the work of my childhood stylist Bruce the Barber at Bruce's Barbershop in Princeton, Iowa. Bruce had Playboys on the high shelf for the adults and National Geographics on the low shelf for the kids, so either way you were gonna get a glimpse of some breasts while Bruce, slick in a long-sleeved polyester shirt, extolled the virtues of Beeswax and B12 injections, and whistled through his teeth.
Bruce could do anything you asked with his scissors and clippers. I requested mullets and flat tops, and unfortunately, I got them. When I wanted to copy my favorite rappers with lines or my initials shaved into my scalp, Bruce was up for the challenge.
In college, I went to Borick's, a chain of discount salons similar to Great Clips. There was a transvestite working there who I would sometimes see in an action/adventure show on the local cable access channel wearing a Wonder Woman costume and sitting on people's faces.
He was a better actress than stylist, but I was repeat customer because it felt good to be in the presence of a celebrity and you never knew who was going to call in the middle of your haircut and bear the brunt of his saucy wrath.
Now, almost 20 years removed from my last Bruce the Barber haircut, I'm loyal to no stylist. Whoever has the cheapest deal, the shortest wait or a glossy direct mail advertisement is who I trust with trimming my precious locks.
That's how I found my favorite business of 2008, Sports Clips.
The idea behind Sports Clips is that men want to get a cheap haircut surrounded by sports memorabilia and about 20 TVs all tuned to either ESPN or ESPN News.
The mailer I received got me in the door by offering a super discount on Sports Clips' "MVP" treatment, which included a "Precision Haircut," shampoo, scalp massage, steamed towel and neck and shoulder massage.
I went on a Monday morning and there was no wait. As usual, I had a hard time voicing exactly what it was "we were going to do today." I always want to say "Give me the Bob Dylan circa 1964," or "Remember Keanu Reeves' hair in 'Speed'?" Instead, I just gave a variation of the standard order: shorten the sides, keep the length on the top, but trim it and thin out the curls... No, I don't know what number guard you use on the clippers.
I did feel like a king at Sports Clips, or maybe even an MVP, for the 20 minutes it took to run through the program of services. I've never paid a strange woman to rub any part of my body, but the scalp massage was orgasmic. The minty shampoo was great, but I declined their offer to sell me some for home use. I'd never leave the shower.
When it was all over, there I was again, sitting in my car looking at the rearview mirror cursing what just happened to my hair.
On my second trip, I opted for the "Triple Play," which includes everything but the neck and shoulder massage. That was OK, though, because I felt a little embarrassed the first time when the stylist pulled out this vibrating massager and started rubbing it all over me while I tried to seem interested in the latest NASCAR points rundown.
I'll go back again. Not when I really need a haircut, but maybe when there's a good game on because, as I've said before, I don't have cable.

Family Christmas Letter

Dear Family, Friends, Associates, Envious Acquaintances, Supporters Trying to Join Our Inner Circle of Advisors, and Staff Attorneys:

You know it’s not really the holiday season until you receive the Can You Dig It? Family Christmas letter – a time to rejoice in our family’s goodness and, perhaps, inspire in your family a New Year’s resolution to be a little more like us.
It’s been another banner year in the Can You Dig It? household and we plan to wrap it up by cooking and serving a big feast for those less fortunate than us, our relatives. We’ve been blessed with piles upon piles of financial blessings, and a 55-inch Sony Bravia XBR 1080p flat panel LCD HDTV that retails for $6,998.98, so hosting the Christmas dinner seems like the only Christian thing to do.
We don’t know why the liberal media keeps bloviating about the “bad” economy when things have been so perfect and profitable for us! Thanks, corporate bailout (wink, wink “rescue”)!!!
Of course, Mama Dig It is as successful and beautiful as ever, balancing personal satisfaction and family like no mother before her. How she manages to get up every morning with her hangovers is a testament to the power of her strength, grace and Mr. & Mrs. T’s Bloody Mary Mix.
We also want to thank everyone for their prayers following Mama Dig It’s mishap with the Botox and the Little Scruffy’s kennel cough vaccination. Mama’s finally starting to get her appetite back and the doctor says Little Scruffy should be able to wag his tail again after the first of the year.
For all of you disappointed fans of Little Scruffy’s previous Christmas letters, we thought it best that he not write this year’s letter while he recuperates.
Baby Dig It is just 2 years old, but I’m sure you know she’s already way smarter than your children and will make way more money (although, don’t worry, a huge trust fund is waiting for her) when she gets her own musical sitcom on Disney. Like we always say, it’s our superior genes!
After consulting with our counsel, The Can You Dig It?s are also happy to provide an official statement on the status of the “situation” that led to so many of our appearances on “Nancy Grace” this year.
We’re pleased to have made it through another year without a formal indictment, although all of those trips to the state’s attorney’s office for “questioning” put a lot miles on our beautiful new Hummer, which, by the way, turned out to be another blessing when Papa Dig It and his personal trainer/life coach John Daly crashed into the side of that Hooters. Thank goodness no one we know very well was hurt!!

We’re sure all pending legal action will be settled in a timely and just way. We sure are paying for it!
It’s been a rough year for Papa Dig It. His investment in an Illinois Senate seat for himself appears to be going nowhere, he spends most of his mornings wearing a leotard and watching that Beyoncé video and his nights wearing sweatbands and memorizing Trivial Pursuit cards, or “training” as he calls it.
We have faith that he’s going to pull himself out of this rut, most likely with the help of some sort of prescription drug cocktail.
And finally, we want all of you who prayed we’d find Jesus to know that your prayers have been answered. He was wrapped in old Chronicles at the bottom of a Sterilite container, so our garage nativity will once again be the envy of the neighborhood. C’mon by and see him!
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,
Can You Dig It?

Aaaaaay

What the hell is a Ponzi scheme?

This is getting embarrassing

This unbelievably great video from MSNBC shows the President of our United States getting not one, but two, shoes thrown at him Sunday during a press conference in Iraq.


Say what you will about W., the man has cat-like quickness. My wife once threw a shoe at my head after I accidentally passed gas and I couldn't duck in time. George dodged two shoes without losing that damn smirk of his.
Still, I can't help but feel a little bit sorry for him. Imagine if you thought you were saving the world and all you got in return was two shoes thrown at you.
This is another great moment to add to the legacy.

My Favorite Things 2008: Hi-Chew

I will never understand why the Japanese aren't fat.

They have the best video games, lots of crazy game shows, cartoons and scary movies to watch, and they are so technologically advanced that there's really no good reason to get off their tiny little couches.

Now, I find out about this, the tastiest candy I've had in a long time, Hi-Chew.

It's kind of like a Starburst, but way better. I really can't describe it, so I'll let the company's English website do the talking:

1) MEANING OF PRODUCT NAME "HI-CHEW":
Chewing candy with highly smooth texture
2) BRAND CONCEPT:
"Highly Smooth and Extra Juicy Chewing Candy"
3) FLAVOUR LINEUP:
Strawberry / Green apple / Grape / Mango / Lemon / Orange
4) BRAND HISTORY IN JAPAN:
Launched in 1975

Seasonal flavors launched about 3 times a year
5) SCENE TO EAT:
Anytime, anywhere to be refreshed
6) ADVANTAGE:
Juicy fruit flavor offers refreshment

Extra smooth texture offers quick eating at outdoor

At outdoor what, I'm not sure, but I think it works just as well indoors, too.

My wife brought some of the grape variety home from our local branch of the World Market and I've been enjoying its quick-eating ever since. At about $1 a pack, it ain't cheap, so enjoy it like you're a little Japanese schoolgirl, not a fat American.

For you vegetarians out there, the company's site also says the source of its extra chewy, super smooth gelatin is pig hide. Here's some other safety info from their FAQ:

How can I take off Hi-Chew sticking to my hair?
Major raw materials for Hi-Chew are glycogen (glucose syrup and sugar), hydrogenated palm kernel oil, and gelatin. It becomes soft when heated. Please take it off gently by having a shampoo or with a lukewarm wet tawol.
How can I take off Hi-Chew sticking to my clothes?
Major raw materials for Hi-Chew are glycogen (glucose syrup and sugar), hydrogenated palm kernel oil, and gelatin. It becomes soft when heated. Please take it off gently with a lukewarm wet tawol or wash in lukewarm water.

Also, stay away from the packs with a June 2009 expiration date. Apparently, those have been recalled because some customers found pieces of rubber invading the fruity goodness.

For more information, I recommend going to the company's main site, which has lots of cool mascots, and commercials like these:

My Favorite Things 2008

It's December and that means it's time for everybody and their mother to create their year-end best of lists, and Can You Dig It? is no exception.
Over the next few weeks, we'll (please ignore the self-aggrandizing use of the first person plural) do a little tastemaking of our own by profiling some of our favorite things, covering everything from music to frozen dinners.

A great album cover as well

I've been a fan of Raphael Saadiq since I was a soul-searching eighth-grader and he was Raphael Wiggins, the lead singer of the forward-thinking R&B group Tony Toni Toné!. They actually played instruments, which was, and still is, a rare thing in the world of popular R&B music.
It was their second album, "The Revival" (1990) that first got my attention. It included the hit "Feels Good," which unfortunately is still the only thing many people know about the group. They went on to record two more albums, "Sons of Soul" (1993) and "House of Music" (1996), both of which bucked the trends of what was popular at the time, and therefore, are still listenable today.
Saadiq changed his last name for a solo career and began producing songs for other artists, including a Grammy-winning collaboration with D'Angelo, the Prince homage "Untitled (How Does it Feel?)," but saved some of his best work for his own solo albums, "Instant Vintage" (2002) and "Ray Ray" (2004). The tuba solo he melded with West Coast funk on "Still Ray," was proof of his musical genius.

This September, Saadiq released his latest solo CD, "The Way I See It," on which he perfectly recreates the golden era of early 1960s R&B, specifically the classic sound of the Stylistics, the Delfonics and Motown's house band, The Funk Brothers, without abandoning his own unique voice.The ballads "Oh Girl" and "Calling," a Spanish doo-wop duet with Saadiq discovery Rocio Mendoza, are among the album's many highlights, which also include the Hurricane Katrina-inspired "Big Easy" and "Love That Girl," which could be mistaken for a Temptations outake. And did I mention that Stevie Wonder has a guest harmonica solo on "Never Give You Up"?





Christmas comes early for Can You Dig It? when the wife and I get to see Saadiq open for John Legend Wednesday night at the Peace Center in Greenville. You should come with us, but if you can't, I recommend staying home with your baby and this album.

The Bottom: Healthy Choice on my socks

It's 12:30 p.m., I just spilled my daughter's soup on my socks, my pajama bottoms and the sweatshirt I've been wearing for two days, which I'm pretty sure came from the women's department.

I need to put the kid to bed, get a shower and a shave, put on men's clothes and make something of myself today.

Please?

My Christmas wish list this year includes just one thing: The 45 RPM vinyl single of every song to chart on the Billboard Top 100 from Jan. 1, 1955 to Dec. 31, 1990. That's around 18,400 records, 36,800 songs including the B-sides, for just $275,000.

Sarah Palin's Neiman Marcus has this amazing collection in its Christmas Book, which also offers a uniform and guaranteed playing time with the Harlem Globetrotters for $110,000, a custom replica of yourself in LEGOs for $60,000, or a thoroughbred racing stable, horses and staff for $10 million. I just want the records. And one of those little plastic 45 adapters so I can play them.

Tightening the screws

For the first time in my life, I’m really concerned about the state of our economy, mostly because for the first time in my life I’m really unemployed.
I haven’t worked a real paying job since the end of June, before the stock market fell down the stairs and broke its hip, before John McCain reassured me that the fundamentals of our economy were strong, and way before he backtracked to say what he meant by fundamentals was the American worker and our ingenuity and spirit.
The corporation I worked for – not this newspaper, which pays me for these columns in baseball cards – sold our business to a competitor in Kansas and laid off all of us fundamentals. Four months later, I’m starting to feel just mental.
Losing your job can hurt, but being unemployed with a severance package felt like a mini-vacation at first. I got up, drank coffee in the sunshine and searched the internet for the perfect next career between pit stops checking box scores, dorking around on Facebook and watching chunky kids fall down on YouTube.
Resumes went out, naps were taken, and dinners were cooked, but it wasn’t long before the thrill of the hunt was gone and the number of job listings had shrunk like the economy had just finished a cold swim.
It’s a frightening time to be unemployed. The latest numbers from the U.S. Department of Labor showed unemployment rose from 6.1 to 6.5 percent last month, meaning 10.1 million Americans are now available to watch “Live with Regis and Kelly” with me in the morning. That’s great for Regis’s ratings, but not so good for my job prospects.
You don’t know how much your job defines who you are, especially to other people, until you don’t have one. In social settings, people always ask, “So, what do you do?” I usually just tell them “male escort” to save them the embarrassment of having to search for something casual and comforting and to say after I tell them I’m unemployed.
If I want to stay positive, I stay away from the nightly newscasts and read only Laurens County news.
Just a couple of years ago, it seemed that Laurens County was the sole place on earth suffering from a recession. Our industries were shutting down, people were out of work and our plastic-making saviors didn’t seem to turn things around like we thought they would.
In recent weeks, Laurens County and its new industry recruits have been the lone bright spot on a bleak national landscape.
First there was FITESA, a Brazilian manufacturer that announced it would invest $150 million and create 125 new jobs in “the LC.”
They make polypropylene nonwoven fabrics for use in diapers and feminine hygiene products. Hey, I may be embarrassed to go buy them for my wife, but I will make them all day long if the pay is right and the benefits are good.
Last week, I read American Titanium Works is going even bigger in Laurens County with a $422 million investment and plans to create 320 jobs at a new “mini-mill” near the Wal-Mart Distribution Center. They say the jobs there could pay around $20 hour. For that kind of cash I will send my 2-year-old to work in the titanium mines.
If I can’t get work in Laurens County, I will try to hold out until President Obama puts his new energy plan into place.
I imagine myself, in a year or two, wearing a hard hat, shimmying up a huge white pole planted somewhere in the American West to tighten the screws on a wind turbine. With the sun just about to set and the sky a deep red against the mountains, and me looking like a new age, eco-friendly male version of Rosie the Riveter for the new century, I’ll pause, gaze across the wind fields and be grateful for this great country of ours and our renewed American spirit.
Directly underneath, my supervisor, T. Boone Pickens will shout, “Attaboy, Greg! I knew I hired the right guy!”

Are you like me?

Do you like poop jokes? Then you'll love this Australian movie I stumbled upon at C#$kbuster.
It's funny, it's sweet, and after watching it last night, I'm committed to calling toilet paper "poo tickets" for the rest of my life.

Catholics and Jane Austen

More proof that Colbert has the best show on television:



"We use every part of the Jesus."

The dog question

According to this link from Reuters, my wife's people have offered up their national dog, a hairless hypoallergenic one bred by the Incas 3,000 years ago, to solve the First Family-Elect's dog decision.

Sixth reaction

My great friend Greg Schrock filed this report this morning after spending the evening at the victory celebration in Grant Park, Chicago.

Dispatch from the Epicenter of Obama's America

Well my friends, it's morning again in America, both literally and figuratively.

They'll blame the financial meltdown and "Bush fatigue," but at the end ofthe day, Obama offered a compelling vision for change in our country thateven their basest attacks couldn't beat. And thank goodness the outcome wasn't terribly close -- both so that we don't have to spend the next four years hearing the wingnuts yammer about rogue community organizations and hanging chads, but more importantly so that President Obama will be better positioned to be President for all the people and get some things done.

Leigh and I were fortunate to be in Chicago, the epicenter of this historic occasion. Ironically, it's been eerily quiet here throughout the campaign season -- unlike a lot of you who live in "battleground" states, the outcome of Illinois was never in doubt, either in the primaries or in yesterday's general election.

With the exception of some late advertising intended for NW Indiana, we hardly saw an ad on television let alone people knocking ondoors or calling for my support. And until I went down to Indiana last weekend to do some canvassing in my native Elkhart County, my direct participation in the process had been embarrassingly low. (There was a good posting from a correspondent for The Nation who was travelling with some folks working the same precinct: http://www.thenation.com/blogs/campaignmatters/379204/hoosiers_for_obama)

So that brings me to yesterday. As I'm sure it was where you are, there was a palpable excitement in the air throughout Chicago. A cheery endurance of long election lines (except in my precinct -- no wait!), but also the awareness that the city was about to witness something really amazing.

The plans for last night's celebration -- and Mayor Daley's suggestion that a million people might show up -- set into motion a logistical operation of epic proportions. Offices in the Loop closed early (Leigh's office closed at noon), and outbound trains were packed at 3 pm. The weather was clearly a good omen -- record high temps in the 70s during the day were giving way to cool but manageable high 50s temps in the evening. Despite my best efforts to secure tickets to last night's "main event" on the south end of Grant Park, we were unable to do so (I KNEW I should have kicked in another hundred bucks).

But like several hundred thousand other folks, we decided to venture down anyway to take in the event. Despite warnings of long lines, we breezed through the highly efficient security point at Congress and Michigan around 7pm and made our way to the north end of Grant Park near the Petrillo Bandshell, where they had set up a large TV blasting CNN as the results trickled in. The crowd was lively and festive, and much like the last time we sat in that lawn -- for Stevie Wonder at this year's Taste of Chicago -- the crowd was incredibly diverse. Black, white, young, old... a good cross section of the city.

The crowd alternately cheered and booed as CNN called states for Obama and McCain and displayed early returns, but in the spaces between people kept themselves occupied -- a man behind us played bongo drums, vendors hawked plastic American flags and "I was there" buttons and T-shirts, people calling and texting others. (The restriction on alcoholic beverages meant that the crowd was a little less surly than it often is for such large events.) But as some of the major dominoes began to fall -- Pennsylvania, then Ohio -- it was clear that it was going to happen. And when at 10pm Chicago time CNN projected that Obama would in fact win, the crowd exploded in jubilance.

People cried. Others danced. Some cried, then danced.

For the next hour, we stood and waited while McCain gave his concession speech (politely received except for references to Sarah Palin), and the expectation of Obama's arrival grew. Chants of "O-bam-a" and "Yes we can" sprouted and faded.

Finally at about 11pm, he delivered his amazing victory speech, the sound of which echoed off the Loop skyscrapers and condominium towers lining the park, enveloping all of us in a series of joyful waves. Aside from intermittent cheers, the crowd of probably 30-40,000 in our end of the park was silent, rapt in attention to the screen in front of us.

When it was over, the nearly 250,000 who had assembled in various parts of Grant Park streamed out into the closed-off streets. Like marchers in a demonstration, we walked with a purpose and a sense of accomplishment. A woman congratulated and shook the hands of passersby, another person turned to me as we walked and said "Congratulations -- your vote mattered this time!" Some stood on embankments and curbs and took in the scene as waves of people walked up Michigan Avenue. People snapped photos on cameras and cell phones as they walked. Here are some of mine: http://www.flickr.com/gp/54377908@N00/2WAaex

Anyway, enough of that from here -- morning is almost over! Time to get to work, America!!!

Best,

greg

Fifth reaction

I'm saddened that Prop 8, the proposition to overturn same-sex marriage rights in California, passed Tuesday with 52 percent of the vote. Similar bans were approved in Florida and Arizona. If gay couples can't marry in California, one of the most liberal states in the nation, what do we do now?

Fourth reaction

I'm watching Oprah today.

Third reaction

Amid all of the historical symbolism produced by yesterday's election, one thing that really strikes me is this picture of our new First Family.
Of course there's the new President and all of his multiracial goodness, but then you have his wife, Michelle, a smart, accomplished and sophisticated black woman who seems like the most perfect, essential and fitting role model and First Lady for this age.
Would I vote for her in 16 years? Yes. Although, she says her priority is to be "mom-in-chief," not write policy.
Then there are the little girls, Malia, 10, and Sasha, 7. It's enough to shed my liberal tears to think that these beautiful black children will be living in the White House 45 years after four little girls just like them were killed in a Sunday morning church bombing.

Second reaction

It's funny that Fox News's promo for the "Fox and Friends" program says "Election Fallout."
The real news organizations all have headlines referring to the historic nature of the victory.

First reaction

We did it.
We did it.
We did it, yeah!
We went over the bridge and past the troll
yeah, we did it.
We did it.
We did it.
We did it, hooray!

Election Day: Ferris

You made me make a phony robo-call to Edward Rooney?

Election Countdown: Black Sheep

I wasn't sure who I was going to vote for tomorrow, until I saw this video by one of my high school rap favorites, Black Sheep, revisiting their 1992 classic, "The Choice Is Yours." Actually, it's just Dres. I don't know where the other guy is. Maybe he's supporting McCain.
Here's the original:



And the remake:

Election Countdown II

Here's a good column from The Christian Science Monitor.

If this doesn't hit you in the heart, I can't be your friend

Election countdown

"Rosa Parks sat so Martin Luther King could walk, and Martin walked so Obama could run. Obama is running so we all can fly, so let's fly."
-- Shawn "Jay-Z" Carter, October 30, Cleveland, Ohio.

I dreamed this, now it's real

On Thursday, I was sitting around my house doing nothing (OK, maybe I was drinking cheap vodka and watching the noon reruns of "The Andy Griffith Show") and I had the following vision:

It was weird, and then it was gone...

Now, it's Saturday afternoon, and I see this on Funny or Die:

I am now opening a psychic readings booth in my garage.

Listen to this

This is hard to listen to, but worth it: "York Voters Express Post-Election Hopes, Fears" from NPR.
It's amazing what people will say out loud. Just imagine what they say in private.

Me and Larry David

My hero, Mr. Larry David, somehow read my mind and wrote my next column for me.
It's at the Huffington Post. You should read it. And if you haven't seen the last season of "Curb Your Enthusiasm," go rent it.

Caution! Dirty, dirty words

People like him

What's more amazing than the very likely possibility of Barack Obama becoming President of the United States? Al Franken becoming a U.S. senator.
According to poll numbers posted on Real Clear Politics, Franken is leading the race to defeat Republican incumbent Norm Coleman by about 2.5 points.
Here's one of his ads:

My 24-month-old is now 2

Last weekend was one of the greatest because my precious Sofia Simone Van De Voorde finally turned 2 on Saturday.
The best thing about this birthday is that generally accepted parental accounting principles no longer require me to stand like a dummy in grocery store checkout aisle when the cashier says, “Awww, how old is she?”
By the time my brain could convert her age into months, an embarrassing amount of time would pass, and then I’d have to incorporate packs of Dentyne Ice to help me tally.
And you know what? When I’d get back to the car to check my math, I’d usually discover that whatever figure I came up was wrong anyway, and the cashier was never the wiser.
Calculating her age for strangers may be the only thing that’s easier about having a 2-year-old. Her mother and I have already seen signs of “the terrible twos” creeping into her once pleasant disposition.
Right now, everything is “mine, mine, mine.” Unfortunately, when she’s referring to the national debt, the problem of our decaying environment, and the responsibility to take care of her mom and dad when we become incontinent, she’s absolutely right.
Then there are the tantrums. You do not want to be witness to the scenes she makes when the stock market drops a couple hundred points or if I don’t put enough olives in her 3:00 p.m. martini.
People always say they grow up so fast, and that is definitely true. It’s an unstoppable fact of life, but I want to do my best to avoid contributing to any premature growing up.
I took her to McDonald’s once, but when her mother informed me that the hormone-injected chickens they use to make their McNuggets could be contributing to the early onset of puberty in American children, I stopped.
I know I can’t protect her from every bad thing in life, but what’s the harm in trying?
Take for example the following absolutely true story: We took her to her first political rally a couple weeks ago in Asheville because she’s obsessed with Barack Obama. When she sees his campaign stickers on cars or hears his voice on the radio, she yells, “Obama, yeah!” or “Obama, USA!” We thought it would be fun to take her to see him in person.
It was pretty hot that day and we had to walk a long, long way up and down mountainous North Carolina terrain to get to the stadium where 15,000 other people were already waiting to hear the senator speak. It was a crowd amazing in its diversity. There were young families and old families; black, white, latin and mixed families; teen-agers in hand-painted T-shirts, veterans in leather, and blue-haired senior citizens. It was the type of America I want for my daughter.
Along the way, there were a few people holding up John McCain/Sarah Palin signs and yelling at the throngs of Obama supporters making their way into the venue. Most of them were just fine politely exercising their civil liberties, but one of these “protesters,” an earnestly dimwitted teen-ager, spotted my sweaty little family and yelled, “Obama supports the murdering of infant children!”
I wanted to cover my sweet little toddler’s ears and shield her from the lunacy. What type of person, no matter what kind of bull honky they believe, would yell that type of thing around a child?
All my wife would allow me to do was give the kid a dirty look. And I gave him all I had in that look.
Sofia, on the other hand, showing dignity and grace beyond her 23 months and three weeks, responded by throwing her arms above her head gymnastics-style and exclaiming, “Obama, yeeeaah!”

I hate myself for blogging about her

I really hate doing this, but here's another interesting little something about Sarah Palin.
Before you brand me a misogynist who deals in passé angry blog posts about an easy target, let me try to explain myself.
We subscribe to Newsweek. It's fun when it comes, but I'm growing tired of the weekly white-background portrait cover shot. Then, when Palin W. Bush started gracing the cover, I couldn't let her just invade my home without fighting back like an angry fourth-grader. So, I defaced her face on the covers with a couple of pens.
It made me feel better, alright? And as it turns out, the Sharpie moustache was kind of prophetic.

I thought I was done, but then this week's issue comes and the cover is this giant, mega-zoom in of her face. That's scary enough, then on closer inspection I see Mrs. Republican Perfect, the woman who right-wing bloggers and Fox News commentators have been lusting after for weeks, has a bit of a moustache.

I know, I know. I would hate to see what my face looks like enlarged to that degree. My teeth have reverted to their pre-braces position and at 32 my pores are like an oily teenager's.

The only reason I mention the governor's imperfections is because I think the cover is an interesting metaphor for her rise in the national spotlight.

On the surface, she looks real cute and attractive. Her image and story effectively invigorates McCain's dying campaign with a shot of saucy new blood. She's an intriguing mystery people can't wait to get to know and it looks like she may be a formidable opponent for that old Washington elitist Joe Biden. She's the new star of the Republican party, drawing thousands just to hear her sharply deliver the words George Bush's speech writers create especially for her.

Then upon closer review, she turns out to be just a dummy with moustache.

The most disgusting commercial ever

I don't care if they're only cartoon bears, this thing grosses me out.



I do appreciate how the baby bear's butt sparkles at the end.

Post-Debate Analysis

I'm sure you've been dying to hear my thoughts on last night's second presidential debate. Me too.

But first, here's some good news for Obama supporters in the form of a CNN poll showing Obama as the clear winner. CBS's poll of uncommitted voters also gave Obama the edge.

1. Obama won, once again showing he's the cool, calm, smart and thoughtful leader we need.

2. McCain sounds like a carnival barker or old-timey snake oil saleman when he repeatedly says, "My friends."

3. I would love to see what McCain scribbled on his legal pad as soon as he walked on the stage.

4. McCain's "That one" comment wasn't a big deal, other than it shows his disdain for Obama, and that's understandable, since he's losing.

5. Obama kind of had a Palin W. Bush moment when he said McCain thinks he's "green behind the ears."

6. I'm not sure what the connection is to the debate, but I had a vision last night of a new fast food menu item called "The Potato Honker." It's a deep-fried baked potato, but if you order it "Totally Honkered" it comes stuft (Taco Bell spelling) with bacon bits, cheese, chives, sour cream, etc. Get It Honkered!

7. I thought it was telling that the Obamas stayed to talk to the folks in the venue, while the McCains jetted out of there.

Let's play 'Can You Spot the Cubs Fan?'

One of the great clichés of journalism is the Wall Street reaction shot. Usually, it's some poor, haggard vest-wearing schlub with his hands touching some part of his agonized face. Taken out of contest, it can look like the subject has a bad headache, has just been shot with tear gas, or is about to puke.

There've been a lot of these pictures lately.

But guess what I've discovered? Unfortunately, the cliché is seeping into coverage of the Chicago Cubs and their downtrodden, panic-stricken fans who also are about to puke.

Here's your challenge: Can you correctly identify in the photos below which poor souls are Wall Street traders and which are Waveland Avenue Cubs fans?
Good luck and be glad you're neither.

This is what it sounds like when Cubs cry

Tonight, the Chicago Cubs begin the journey to erase 99 years of futility with the opening game of their division series against the Los Angeles Dodgers.
This is our second straight trip to the playoffs, a feat almost unheard of in Cubs history, and our best chance to make the World Series since the 2003 Steve Bartman debacle against the Florida Marlins.
We earned the best record in the National League over the course of the regular season, giving us home field advantage in the playoffs. Unfortunately, if -- and it makes my palms sweaty and bowels loose to even consider the possibility -- we make the World Series, the American League will have the home field advantage thanks to that horrid, 15-inning epic All-Star game that the AL won 4-3.
It's difficult to effectively convey what the Cubs mean to me. My love and dedication to them runs as deep as my affection for Prince. But while my support of Prince has been repaid in my lifetime with triumphant moments in the 1980s and some thrilling spectacles recently (Super Bowl XLI), being a Cubs fan is like being forced to buy "Rave Unto the Joy Fantastic" over and over again.
I've been embarrassed at times to be a Prince fan, but he's never made me cry. In 1984, when the world was in a frenzy over "Purple Rain," the Cubs made me cry when they let a 2-0 series lead in the NL Championship slip away with three consecutive losses to a-hole Steve Garvey and the San Diego Padres.
In 1989, as Prince topped the album charts with the "Batman" soundtrack, the Cubs' bat men brought tears to my eyes again, losing the NLCS in five games to the a-hole Will Clark and the San Francisco Giants.
The next nine years saw Prince and the Cubs fall into decline. I stood by them both. Prince changed his name to an unpronounceable symbol and the Cubs were realigned in the NL Central Division. The Cubs benefited far more from the identity change and they returned to the playoffs n 1998 via the Wild Card, thanks in part to the record setting season of Sammy Sosa. The excitement was short-lived, however, as they were swept 3-0 by the Braves.
Five years later, Prince was a Jehovah's Witness and the Cubs put together their best team in ages, mounting a 3-1 series lead in the NLCS against the Marlins. The Cubs dropped Game 5, but were still only five outs away from the World Series in Game 6. That's when Bartman, also a die-hard Cubs fan, reached out for a foul ball and in the process triggered another legendary choke job. They lost in seven games and I cried.
Rebounding from a last place finish in 2006, the Cubs won the division in 2007, but made a mercifully quick exit from the playoffs, losing in three games to Arizona.
Besides solace from my friend Cory, I'm often left to suffer alone in my Prince misery. That's not the case with the Cubs. I don't think there's anyone in my family who isn't a Cubs fan, led by my beloved grandfather, who died never seeing the Cubs win a World Series. He watched every game of every season, cursing when they lost and jingling the ice in his whiskey and water a little louder when they won. Every time the Cubs come close to getting over the curse, I think Grandpa and Harry Caray must be up there pulling some strings and celebrating.
It's an emotional roller coaster I don't look forward to riding this October.
A couple day ago, though, I found some therapy in the form of a song by the great Eddie Vedder. He, like fellow 1990s superstar rocker Billy Corgan, is a big Cubs fan. I think there's an appropriate connection between grunge rock aesthetic and the Cubs. Apparently, Mr. Cub Ernie Banks understands that and asked Vedder to write a song for the team. This is what he came up with:

If you're a Cubs fan, it will give you goosebumps. Vedder sonically captures the optimism, spirituality, depression and passion of Cubs fans.
In the following clip, Corgan displays the strain and heavy-heartedness of Cubdom.



Prince remains silent on the issue.