maybe next decade

Here’s the Senate definition of cloture:

“The only procedure by which the Senate can vote to place a time limit on consideration of a bill or other matter, and thereby overcome a filibuster. Under the cloture rule (Rule XXII), the Senate may limit consideration of a pending matter to 30 additional hours, but only by vote of three-fifths of the full Senate, normally 60 votes”

It wasn’t the immigration bill being voted on over the last month and most people have no recognition of that fact. The Senate majority pushed for a vote on cloture in order to limit the debate on the bill, not to vote on the bill, and end the Republican filibuster. Why not vote for cloture, limit the debate to 30 hours, and then vote on the bill? If the majority votes ‘nay’, so be it. What this really leads to one is overriding conclusion: there are 50 senators that are willing to vote for the bill; if it weren’t true, why filibuster? In fact, the 43-56 final tally from today’s cloture vote is horribly misleading. I was running a simple tally while listening to the vote and once the ‘nays’ hit 41, effectively ending the motion, there was a flurry of out-of-the-woodwork votes by senators who passed on the first round. Now they can inaccurately claim to have voted against the reform even though they didn’t. The list that I jotted down (those that threw in the late ‘nays’) includes: Barrasso, Collins, Byrd, Brownback, Coleman, Cochran, McConnell, Brown, Warner, and Inhofe. The net effect is that the people are held hostage by the nine senators that make up the gap between the 51 needed to pass the bill and the 60 needed for cloture. I suspect the number is truly less than nine, probably closer to four or five that ended the debate. I defy anyone to ask the next ten people they come across three questions:

1. Did they vote on the immigration bill today?
2. Do you know any three details of the immigration bill?
3. Would you support the bill?

It would be enlightening. I'll guess that 8 of 10 would say they did vote on the bill; probably 9 of 10 couldn't give three details of the bill; at least 6 or 7 of 10 would support the bill. It's all horribly embarrassing.

I see the Supreme Court finally issued the decisions on the Seattle and Louisville schools. The ’08 election is just as much about the next two Supreme Court openings as it is about President. I was going to invite Roberts and Alito up for the weekend…nevermind.

Love to all.

T.

ultimately amusing

A few other passing bits of signage that I’ve seen over the last few days; it’s summertime and the mottos seem to show up everywhere. On my way home (by bicycle) the other night I was waiting at a light behind an SUV of sorts that had a license plate the made me twinkle. Like most states, Virginia now has the plexi-plastic plates that allow for an infinite number of supported functions and organizations. If you graduated from Doane College in Nebraska I think you can get the Doane College Alumni plate with associated one-up numbering. Granted, your number will be 001 but at least everyone will know you went to Doane. The plate I saw the other night was a background calling out that the owner/operator was a member of the Virginia CPAs. Oh well…the CPAs. Way back when there was a time when two dudes driving Cameos would give each other a wave, a head nod, a honk as a short recognition of each other’s good taste. I don’t imagine that happens much anymore – license plate backgrounds are now the way we nod our cool ways. I can visualize two or three CPAs coming across each other in the Crate and Barrel parking lot, in step, coming together; a Jets and Sharks thing, scoffing at, and fighting with, the Best Buy Managers and Apple iMac Coolster plates.

Last night I stopped in the central library and noticed a handwritten posted sign on the main doors: “Para / Hang-gliding meeting on second floor”. Where else would they meet? On the ground floor? Right.

I’m easily amused.

I’ve volunteered for near-death activity this summer. I’m in an Ultimate rec league here in the D.C. area. For those not awares, Ultimate can best be described as a combination of soccer and Frisbee on a 100-yard field. This ain’t like when I was 19. Well it is like when I was 19 – I’m not 19. I need new hamstrings, a forehand throw, some of that (limited) jumping ability from high school, and lots of water. Last night’s game started at about 8:30 and was still ongoing when the field lights clicked off at 10pm. There’s nothing like almost 90 minutes of running, chasing, grunting and groaning in the late evening humidity of Arlington. My greatest feat is that I’m probably the oldest player humping up and down the pitch.

I’m NOT listening to the Senate debate on the immigration bill/cloture. I’m not. If I were listening I’d say they are a bunch of chuckleheads. I think Ted Kennedy is going to blow a gasket.

The Eleven (and the remaining kibbutz members) are heading to Vermont for the weekend. I envision sitting on a patio for two-and-a-half days. No molestar!

T.

fire and water

Everyday I ride passed the Dunn-Loring Volunteer Fire and Rescue Department down on Gallows Road. Everyday I laugh at the sign out front advertising “Non-smoking Bingo. Mondays and Wednesdays. 5pm.” Those fire guys are hilarious…or ironic.

So here’s the story on swimming pools that I promised a few weeks ago. Being a kid, in certain circumstances, never changes. Whenever I’m at the pool with the boys I notice that even this generation of children have mastered the art of I’m “walking-not-running-but-still-looking-like-the Monty Python School of Funny Walks” run. Every single pool that has ever been open for public use has “NO RUNNING” painted all over the deck. Generations of 16 to 20-year old lifeguards have tooted their whistles and hollered out “sssslllloooowwww down!” To which the kids simply convert to an even goofier looking run / walk and snapping of leg joints. Attempts by the youth of America to circumvent the no running rule at the pool clearly led to the creation, and eventual inclusion, of speed walking at the Olympics. I’ll take a nine-year old in the 100-meter version of a speed-walking race any day, especially if he has to pee and the pool changing room is far off in the distance. The other story; the boys and their friend, one of the many Montanos, dogpaddled to the edge of the pool near where I was minding my own business and reading because they wanted to sing me the new song they’d learned. I already knew what was coming since I’d heard them caterwauling this diddy across the waves over the last hour. Prepare yourselves…

“Mine eyes have seem the glory of the burning of the school
We have tortured all the teachers,
We have broken all the rules….”

As G. fades out on that last lyric, since no one really knows anything beyond that, he yells at me, “Todd…isn’t that funny? We just made it up!” Some things will always be funny! The more I thought (and heard) the old standard I began to wonder about the process: if you’ve already tortured the teachers then I’m assuming you’ve broken all the rules. Just saying. As an aside, G. didn’t really believe me when I informed him yesterday that, yes, I did know how to play Stratego. It appears that the more modern game has swapped the numbers and ranks. In my day, the general was the lowest number and the scout the highest number - philistines. When you’re 9 the World began about nine years ago.

It’s so humid my curls are falling from my hair. It happens.

T.

busy

I've been fighting every urge to no throttle co-workers and co-approvers this week. It's Friday and I'll be heading home in just a smidge so life ain't all bad. I can't give you anything too deep, though a pool and kids entry is coming, but I can give you something. I stumbled on this at Andrew Sullivan's website earlier this week. This show is apparently something like the British version of American Idol though I suspect it's not just singers that appear. Who knows?. I remember getting into one season of American Idol and finding it entertaining once I got involved with a given contestant...but it was nothing like this. I doubt that AI has ever had a contestant this good, or this humble...even Simon is floored. The first clip is from last week, the second is from the semi-finals a day or two ago. Enjoy.

T.

that kind of day

I'm not much for commercials since I don't have TV at home and I'm not sure exactly where I saw this for the first time, but this is my day at work. I'm starting my own jar and it appears that by close of business I'll have a vacation to NYC all up and paid for...



And for those who know the beloved Kt - this is her personality... combined with her current physical state... combined with basketball. If you don't her, you do now.

Oh, the days...

T.

changing market

I made the semi-monthly pilgrimage to the DuPont Circle Farmers Market Sunday morning. After three or four market trips I figured my way around the streets and found perfect street parking right at the former Iraqi Embassy east of DuPont that's always open. This Sunday morning all the whole street was full; I was foiled! As an aside, I don’t know where the Iraqi ambassador lives these days – is there an Iraqi ambassador to the U.S.? Maybe I’ll be the first to know when the war is about over or when the Iraqi government is functional; they'll cut the grass, clean up the place, and it'll begin to look as if occupancy is imminent. Maybe diplomacy is a last resort. I drove a bit further north on 18th St. and found a place to park within the leafy confines of New Hampshire Blvd. and ambled over just as the bell sounded to open the selling. It was a gorgeous morning in the city but the market wasn’t nearly as crowded as usual and I’m not sure why. Maybe everyone was scared off by the massive amounts of greens on sale this time of year. Could it be that the shopper are gourd-ers?

We were sitting around the table after dinner last night (vichyssoise, roasted green bean salad, eggplant marsala scallopini) and I was mumbling about how I’d broken a few buds off the lilies brought home from the market. As I’m turning the stem to observe the fallen soldiers, X says “be careful...the nut will fall.” I’m not stupid - there are no nuts on lilies. After a few seconds with a dazed look across my face, and the WonderTwins eyeing me as if I’m crazy, I say “nut? What nut?” That is the best response to anyone who dare say anything about nuts and falling. X comes back with a very straight-forward response…”the nut in the vase.” At this point I look over at Kt for any type of assistance figuring that, as a DoJ operative, she might have the correct coded response for this stupid pas de deux. Nothing but a blank slate. I think some more, compose myself, and respond with the only thing I can imagine might stop this insanity – “the spaghetti is in the pot.” Okay, I didn’t say it…but I thought it. My actual response was a lost look that was eventually replaced by a quizzical look when X told me that the nut (methinks it might be a hazelnut) has been placed in the neck of the huge vase in order to keep the lily stems separated enough for the bestest blooming. Right. This harkens back to Thelma and Louise when Thelma’s husband, in response to police questioning, says, “I love my wife…as much as anyone can love a nutcase like that…” See. Nuts. I just got up and dished up the dessert…

The Eleven spent a fitful hour yesterday afternoon looking for Biscuit, the ‘lost’ rat. Said rat was not in his cage and both boys were gone so we started looking around the house and courtyard. Ends up H. decided to take his pet with him to his friend’s house for a few hours of entertaining them with...a rat. Nice. I'm sure he'll be invited over for a future slumber party. At least Biscuit didn’t come to a bad fate because if he had escaped he’d be a goner.

The pool on base is open so the boys are in full swimming mode. They are lobsteresque after 2 ½ hours in the water on Saturday afternoon.

All three children had their hairs cropped Saturday morning. My Arab and Israeli barbers probably find it strange when they're overrun by the Twins and the three minions. I'd imagine that if they walked in and there were three or four people waiting for cuts, Q. would pipe up with "What the Hell!" from his small noise box. A simple detail of life to pass along…

We have tickets for the Joan Armatrading show in Alexandria tonight. Another detail.

T.

emperors VI

Ah, to know you're wrong; and to change. This will be so much easier now.

I know it’s politics and straight answers are impossible to come by these days. I know the debates have been an absolute joke so far, and I blame both the moderators (raise your hand if…, Wolf Blitzer is a caricature of a caricature...though at least the candidates can't speak) and the candidates (for stupid answers). Let’s get this sorted out before the Fourth of July. Based on the crappy performances across the board so far, combined with some basic knowledge of the players, there are only three running right now that could actually win the general election. I know just how crazy this sounds when we look at the polls, but bear with me on this one. The primaries and campaign season will be arduous, there will be turnings of the polls, different leaders and different chasers, but in the end there are only a few that can win the presidency: Ron Paul, Barack Obama, and John Edwards. I don’t believe for a minute that these are the best candidates out there but they are the only three that can win. (Yes, if you must know; a neo-conservative or panderer can’t win.) I’ll guess that the first screaming input is that Ron Paul will never win the Republican nomination; fine. I’ve got no crystal ball that tells me he will, but remember this: McCain, Romney, or Giuliani cannot win a general election. The country is sitting in moderate territory and none of those three can do enough to get the majority – their own party isn’t even happy with any of them. It looks more and more as if Obama will get the Democratic nomination and if that comes to fruition, and he runs off against any of the three front-running Republicans, he’ll win. John Edwards, who I owe an apology for thinking he wouldn’t make it to the primaries, would also defeat the three front runners. I don’t believe Clinton can win general election. As a late sidenote - there's reporting that Paul has raised as much as McCain over the second quarter. The power of the internet and swell of Paul supporters, even among the Dems, will be a seminal moment in American politics.

Where does this leave us? Everyone is waiting on the three names hanging over the campaign trail like some sword of Damocles: Thompson, Hagel, and Gore. Here’s how I see the effects:

Thompson will really screw up the Republican polling numbers and we’ll end up with four front runners all polling between 15-20%. Voters will soon determine that the Thompson gale existed only because no other viable candidate was in the race – Thompson will become the fourth unviable candidate.

Hagel will benefit as the only major anti-Iraq candidate on the trail and he will attract a ton of attention and a modicum of voters. What he represents is someone who breaks the “double Guantanamo” and “torture everyone” talk and opens the public's eyes to himself and Ron Paul. I think that two candidates giving some straight talk will make it much more interesting.

I don’t think Gore will run. But if he does I think he’ll hit Clinton’s numbers very hard. A lot of Dems and centrists would love to have Bill Clinton back, and I think some of that desire has been transferred to Hillary, yet Gore probably most closely represents the Bill Clinton ideal.

So what happens? Who are the nominees? What about running mates? Ah, those are the mysteries. I think one of the big three will be the Republican nominee so, ipso facto, we’ll have a Democrat moving into the White House in 2009. What happens between now and the full primary season is anyone’s guess. Who ends up as running mates is even more interesting (Gore, Hillary, Obama, Edwards, Hagel, Thompson, Schwarzenegger?). The joy…

Another beautiful Sunday.

Love to all.

T.

traffic report

Every weekday I catch snippets of the local NPR station, WAMU. In the mornings it’s for just a bit while we’re trying to get the launched from the house; in the afternoons I’ll tune in while running errands or cheffing up some dinner. Most know that the D.C. area is notoriously bad for traffic and I think the rush ‘hours’, from 6-11am and 3-8pm, have ballooned to a total of 10 or 12 hours per day. Even during the middle of the day, the slow period between 11am and 3pm, they are giving out ‘the traffic’. I think the basic tenet of a traffic report is to let us know changes to the traffic status quo so we can possibly adjust our plans. Changes. Even if you accept that you might change your route due to an in-depth and well thought out radio traffic report, I don’t know that I’ve ever changed my route because of a report, but someday I might. Anyway, since the beltway (Interstate 495), I-66 in Virginia, I-270 in Maryland / D.C., and I-95 in Maryland / Virginia are always jammed during rush hour, I don’t need to know just how jammed they are, that’s not a change. If I’m a driver and sitting in that jam, I don’t need to know the average speed is 11mph. All that’s going to do for me is get me off on some mathematical game to see if I’m actually moving along at 11mph. If I’m sitting in crappy traffic do not rub it in my face. A report on an accident that’s blocking the left lane of 66 eastbound in Virginia? Doesn’t help me. Here’s my idea of a useful traffic report for the greater D.C. area:

Let’s go to John with the traffic report.

Good morning, Julie. The Dulles toll road is completely empty this morning, average speed is 70mph. It looks like everyone decided to use Highway 7 and I-66 eastbound this morning, so if you’re heading in to the city and can get on the toll road, I’d recommend taking it – hey you, in your car, you’re the only one who can hear me, take the toll road. Also, for those heading into the District on 95 northbound in Virginia, the two right hand lanes are open and troopers are restricting those lanes for Honda and Toyota sedan drivers only. The SUV and Toby Keith-loving pick-up drivers are sitting in the left lane averaging about 5mph while listening to Opie and Anthony on the radio. That trip will take you about an hour to get into the District. The Hondas and Toyotas are doing about 75mph in their lanes. I’m John Doe for 95.3 WWKK.

That would be just fine.

I don’t drive to work, but if I did…

T.

old bags

Everyone surely has a memory of their favorite bag of mine; I’ve heard the man-bag comment from each and every one of you. I certainly have a favorite: I bought it in S.F. in November 2003 when I was visiting town one weekend to see Lucinda Williams at the Fillmore. It was black with gray straps, a single main compartment, two external pockets on the ends – external pockets* are tough to find these days. Prior to that legendary purchase I’d been through any number of normal backpacks, kidney bean-shaped backpacks, smaller map cases, etc., but never hit upon the perfect bag while I was living over in Europe…go figure. The issue with the backpack design is that you never wear it with both straps across your shoulders, at least I wouldn’t, so the one strap is endlessly slipping off your shoulder and you feel like you need to hold that shitty strap with your right hand – and that defeats the purpose of the bag. I bought the black bag on a flyer while strolling to Amoeba Records over on Haight St. What I learned about the bag over that first weekend was that when my cell phone was set to vibrate and was stored in the outer pocket I could feel the vibration through the strap that was over my shoulder. Bonus! I remember it well because X was texting me ALL the time…she’s very persistent.

Now I’m onto my umpteenth bag since the demise of the black bag sometime in 2005. I honestly don’t remember whether the bag finally gave out or I moved on thinking I’d no doubt find something better. If I did get rid of it in search of something better, what a fool, I haven’t one…yet. I’ve been flirting with the Timbuk2 messenger bags for a few years and finally broke down last week and order one from Sierra Trading Post (at 50% off). The bag is on its first full day of trails.

If you’re wondering why the bag is so important, I’ll give you my most obvious trait: I hate having anything in my pockets. Beyond that, here’s a list of stuff I kind of carry around with me most of the time: sunglasses, wallet, pens, pencils, a magazine/newspaper, hand soap, the crossword, a pad of paper, my iPod, some water, a day planner, and maybe an umbrella. Any collection of other junk can show up on a need-be-basis (a book, something that X hands me, something that Laurel hands me, etc.). In the end - I’ve got everything in one place, I can sling it over my shoulder, and I’ve got two hands free…

I hear the laughter out here. I’m not that bad, believe me. You should hear the conversations between the Wonder Twins while we walk to the Metro every mornings, chatter chatter chatter make-up chatter chatter lip gloss chatter chatter shoes chatter chatter necklace chatter chatter bitchy chatter (me fading to gray…). It’s just like that, I swear.

*speaking of pockets, stylists are into another cycle of men’s shorts that are either covered in big stupid cargo pockets or full of pleats. I don’t do pleats and I generally hate big cargo pockets. Just saying…

From our nation’s capital.

T.

en garde!

It started during our shopping pilgrimage to the Rack last night. The boys had been were fed (sort of, fed but not much eaten) before our escape, they had been given their tasks to complete while we were away (homework, room, rat cage, piano), we swung by the chiropractor (Dr. Sam) to get X put back in order, and then made our way to the store to find some business slacks for the high-paid summer associate. I wandered over to the men’s quadrant and found some shirts well-suited for the hot and humid summers in the mid-Atlantic. Back within the gravitational mass of girl stuff, X found one pair of functional slacks, some jeans (x2), a sweatshirt, and a few tops (those were NOT on the to-do list) and we met at the register. The impulse area near the money-sucking machine was stocked with myriad Neutrogena sunscreen product. X grabbed a bottle of SPF 70 which I thought was a tad overboard, and I’m one who burns quickly, so we swapped it for a bottle of SPF 55. Here’s the point of this verbiage, since you asked: I thought SPF was based on some formula of 20 minutes times the SPF; X guffawed at me and quickly clarified that it is actually a multiple of the amount of time one can spend in the sun before burning and the SPF. Right I say, off to wikipedia.com (while delaying the start of our movie at home), and back with the basic definition, of which she was correct:

The SPF indicates the time a person can be exposed to sunlight before getting sunburn with a sunscreen applied relative to the time they can be exposed without sunscreen. For example, someone who would burn after 12 minutes in the sun would expect to burn after 2 hours (120 min) if protected by a sunscreen with SPF 10 (that’s the laboratory up above).

As if there’s such thing as a SPF 10 these days – that would be called Crisco (girls used to use Crisco at summer camp)...or butter. So here comes the math; if X can be in the sun for 30 minutes, on average, before burning, then a 70 will give her 2100 minutes of protection; or about 35 hours. I’m not exactly sure where she would require UVA/UVB protection for 35 hours. I’m thinking that unless you’re in another galaxy you’d only need a SPF of about 24 since I believe the sun sets occasionally here on Earth. For me? I burn in about 10 minutes so that 70 would give me almost 12 hours of endless protection. I will never be in the sun for 12 hours unless I’m working a turn row in a Johnny Cash prison song. My desire for direct sun is about 40 minutes so I’m trying to dig up a SPF 4; butter me up.

As an aside, there was a woman in the elevator this morning carrying a 7-Eleven Double Gulp. I suggested that if she must transport something that large she should use the cargo elevator ‘round back. I just looked up the Double Gulp and it’s the king. It seems this is the Gulp family tribe, smallest to largest…you’ll thank me:

Gulp, Big Gulp, Super Big Gulp, Double Gulp (1.9 liters)

Love to all.

T.

law and order

The dire consequences of a rookie driver on the #401; I spied the northbound bus coming into the Dunn Loring station metro zone, moved to the boarding area as per usual, and then watched the bus fly right by the assembled crowd and stop at the southbound(!) shelter. No worries for me as I just stepped down to that shelter, knowing full well it was the northbound bus, and awaited the doors. The rest of my comrades were less willing to look silly by possibly moving to what is clearly the wrong shelter; those who were already at the southbound shelter, two Chinese men, jumped right on followed closely by yours truly. I immediately recognized the driver as a young guy who was on this route with a trainer a few weeks ago; just a small mistake in remembering which shelter is which. Once I disappeared up the steps the rest my business casual minions scooted down and boarded the bus in a more random fashion than normal…some of the riders in seats they don’t normally choose. All of them looking about and trying to sort if I were still a quality leader but not actually wanted to look right at me. I don’t believe they had faith until we ended up in the left turn lane at station’s exit. Much exhaling and relief; I was already mindlessly dancing to my music. I took care of them. Of course, the two Chinese riders were shocked when the bus turned north out of parking, they glanced at each other, scanned the scenery, and immediately yanked the buzzer to get off the crazy bus.

During an episode of “searching for playground” jurisprudence this weekend, X had to sort out the following snippets of testimony:

G: Mommy. I asked H for some hangers (they were putting away laundry) and he threw them at me and hit me in my head.
X: H, come here.
H: Coming [in a nice lilt. He arrives]. Yes Mommy?
X: Did you throw hangers and hit Gabe in his head?
H: What? No. He asked for some hangers, I held them out with my hand [showing arm extended fully], and he did this with his head [some imitation of G. doing a snake dance thingy and throwing his head into the hangers held out innocently in H.’s hand]. I didn’t throw them! He hit his head on them!
G: I did not! [always helpful testimony]

I think the final verdict was that is was highly unlikely (and a bit unusual) that anyone would throw their head into elevated hangers. It didn’t help the defense when his friend testified to this effect, “H. threw the hangers and hit G. in the head. G. is telling the truth, H. isn’t.” There you have it…friends can turn so quickly.

We almost didn't find a Sunday NYTimes yesterday. The search didn't commence until late in the afternoon after I'd done some cleaning and X has attempted some hostile takeover of Everbank and United Airlines via the internet. I think she succeeded. Having said that, I don't think she showed nearly enough worry about intial search efforts.

It's humid.

T.