Short and not so sweet.

Repugnant. It's the only word I can come up with as I watch the poor, pitiful, saga of the Rod Blagojevich trial Pt. II play out. It seems almost impossible that something new could come out of the mans mouth. With all the talk shows, radio interviews, reality shows, books, and press conferences that Blago has thrown in our face, how could he possibly do or say anything that would shock us? That's what I said a few days ago. Then he took the stand.

Day 1. Classic Bla-boo-boo-itch. Nothing exciting, nothing new, just more of the "look at me and see what I have done" mantra. Then Day 2. Still under defense questioning, the heart of their defense is revealed. He blamed a dead man for it. No, let me re-phrase. He spat and danced on the grave of his long time friend and political ally, Chris Kelly. A man who was more like a brother to him, a man who took his own life rather than go to jail for taking part in the illicit schemes of his best friend, was just thrown under the bus from the grave. If sympathy from the jurors is what Boy-have-I-got-an-itch craves, does he really think this will do the trick? To me it looks more like the last desperate swing from a man on the ropes.

When a man's home aint his castle.

Aug 17, 2012. Here sits the Guitarman, alone with his thoughts, in an unadorned, bleak, and desolate jail cell, wondering where it all went so horribly wrong. He didn't really ever consider himself a criminal, per se. But he knew it was wrong. He knew that the erosion of the 4th Amendment began nearly a year and a half ago, yet he persisted in his law defying antics, daring authorities to not only find him, but persecute him as well. He could still hear the words of the patrolman, echoing in his head like a lost tourist in the Grand Canyon, from that day in court.

Judge: So, patrolman McGruder, describe your train of thoughts as you entered the defendants home September 20, 2011.
Cop: Well, your honor, I was chasing a known felon, wanted for grand larceny, murder, weapons trafficking, and possession of a narcotic with the intent to deliver, when I passed by an open window of the home of the defendant. I stopped in my tracks as I heard an unmistakable "ripping" sound coming from the second floor bedroom.
Judge: And by "unmistakable" you mean...unmistakable?
Cop: Yes your honor.
Judge: Proceed.
Cop: So,likes I was sayin', I immediately gave up on my foot pursuit of the suspect, and proceeded to the front door of the defendants home. I drew my weapon and was prepared to kick in the door, and paused for a brief second to consider the legality of my impending action. It was at that precise moment I remembered the US Supreme Courts near unanimous decision in May of 2011 that allowed police to enter a home without a search warrant if the officer perceived an illegal activity was taking place in the home.
Judge: Now when you say "near unanimous", you mean...near unanimous?
Cop: Yes your honor, if not for Ruth "Lone Wolf" Bader-Ginsburg.
Judge: Proceed.
Cop: So with my new sense of purpose, I kicked in the door, proceeded with weapon drawn to the upstairs bedroom, when I saw the defendant on his knees, next to a brand new mattress, with the tag in his left hand.

The moral of my story? If you are preparing to give a skunk a bath in your kitchen, best close that window lest a wandering patrol officer mistakes it for the "unmistakable" odor of potent marijuana growing in the home. And if you happen to be rehearsing lines for a play with your spouse that includes a rape scene, or like to watch violent movies with the volume turned up really high, or if you are a migraine sufferer, and prefer to chop up your aspirin into a fluffy white pile and leave it on a mirror on your coffee table, draw those curtains buddy.

"...with the tag in his left hand." Those words will haunt me forever. Why couldn't I have just used scissors?

Waste not want not.

If there's one bit of morality that I can cling to in my increasing years of cynicism, it's that I consider myself somewhat frugal in the area of waste. I fervently recycle, making sure to rinse the putrid bits of cat food from the empty tin, fill and shake the milk jugs, rinse cans, etc. You get my drift. We save all leftovers, and I mean all. Last Thanksgiving I nearly fainted when I saw my bro scraping the last bit of broccoli casserole into the garbage. "It was only like two bites," he protested. "But it would have been the most insanely flavorful and tantalizing two bites that have ever existed in a Tupperware container!" I bellowed. I can't throw anything away that holds any bit of value, much to the constant chagrin of the wife. That's why I was aghast when I opened my insurance statement.

The second page was blank. At the top of the page was printed in a neat little box, This page intentionally left blank. What, exactly, is the point of putting in a blank page, and then telling us that they did it on purpose? Lest we assume that someone was sneaking around the billing office, maliciously inserting blank pages into all of the envelopes in some vain attempt to expose the offending insurance agency as a global glutton, wasting resources in today's ever green world. No. We did it this way, and we want you to know that we are so rich and powerful, that we think nothing of the extra cost of putting a blank piece of paper into your bill. Or something like that.

From www.conservatree.com; based on a mixture of softwoods and hardwoods 40 feet tall and 6-8 inches in diameter, it would take a rough average of 24 trees to produce a ton of printing and writing paper, using the kraft chemical (freesheet) pulping process. If a company like farmers has 1,000,000 clients, and they send out these things bi-annually, that could be like, lesse, carry the one...a lot of wasted paper. The conservative in me wants to send it back in an envelope and say why, WHY? But pragmatist in me just uses it for scratch paper anyway.

2012 Campaign Slogan, "Trust Me."

That was then, this is now. It was in 2008 that a young, fresh, and hungry Barack Obama delivered one of the most impressive campaigns in recent memory, promising, among other things, to 1. fix an unjust immigration system, and 2. build bridges with the other party. Why bring this up now? Why rehash the past? Because we are supposed to learn from it. And because the present has an ominous way of mimicking the past, and if there was any doubt, we are now in full campaign mode for 2012.

Promise number one, fix immigration. The real way to do this, of course, is to actually engage the policy makers and shakers, those lofty, honest politicians we like to call Senators and Congressmen. The Obama method, on the other hand, is to traverse the country holding hands and singing Kumbaya with US Rep. Luis Gutierrez, promising the moon. But reality has a funny way of sneaking up on you. In Gutierrez's own words, "He came to our neighborhoods, he came to our communities, he gave speeches." In other words, he bullshitted them. 67% of them trusted and believed in him. Now he looks them in the eye, 3 years later and says, "Hey I really mean it this time. Trust me." And he goes on television to once again woo the important Hispanic vote. He must really think the Hispanic population is just plain stupid. If he couldn't do it with a filibuster proof Democratic majority during his first term, how or why the hell is he gonna do it now?

Promise number two, build bridges. Without boring you with endless references to the Dark Side of the Force, ie. the Republicans, let's look at a recent, full campaign-mode quote. Once again, on TV, in Clinton-speak, he calls them, "alligators in the moat" along the US border for their stance to secure the borders first, talk immigration reform later. So much for steering the nation away from the partisan ways of the past. It was only a few months ago, (post-2008 campaign and pre-2012 campaign, you know, those 2 years of actual presidency) that Obama stated that addressing entitlement reform shouldn't result in one side blasting the other for at least coming up with real ideas. Then a funny thing happened on the way to the altar; he went into campaign mode. Recently, House Budget Chairman Paul Ryan (R-Wis) proposed Medicare reform, and Obama could have said something like, "I appreciate different views and ideas, and I applaud my colleague's willingness to open dialogue on the subject." But alas, his words were more like, "I reject Lord Vader's attempt to woo the poor, neglected seniors of this country as mere campaign propaganda."

This, in turn, is exactly what he is doing now. Same old story as always, do as I say, not as I do. Wooing the voters of this country, black, white, Hispanic, Middle-Eastern, Asian, old, young, rich, poor, with the kind of BS that used to be reserved for snake-oil salesmen traversing the country in a horse drawn Walgreens on wheels. People used to believe the words that came out of the salesman's mouth, because he sounded so sincere. So trustworthy. He had the gift of gab, and he used it to sell. Hard part was, though, you could never go back a second time. Because the folks who bought his snake-oil the first time around, knew better. They told their friends, and they learned from the past. Question is, will we?