Shade THIS In Yellow, Chuck Todd

The 2008 Presidential Campaign, for most non-junkies, has gone on roughly six months to two years too long. For me, by November 4th, it will have gone on exactly two weeks too long. For today is the day, the first day during this gauntlet, that I am undecided as to who will get my vote.

John McCain is a hero of mine. Heroic for his service to this country in the military and in the Senate. But many people have served both bodies nobly. What makes this great man a role model for me is our shared distinction as Republicans called liberals by our conservative friends and conservatives by our liberal friends. Such is the price to be paid for not acting as a partisan bobblehead.

I have said this many times this year, and I'll say it just once more to make my point clear. I really wish that I could vote for the guy retroactively to 2000 rather than prospectively until 2012. The crisis our country is currently in is not, as the Joe Bidens and Hillary Clintons would have you believe, a result of George W. Bush's Republican policies. Rather, the true father of this mess is the incompetent execution of those policies by a non-intellectually curious president. Under a McCain administration these past eight years, we would have seen a tough foreign policy and pro-business solutions just the same. But based on Senator McCain's history, these likely all would have been carried out with proper precautions and some deference towards the 45-49% of the citizens who would have voted for the other guy.

Sometime in the next two weeks, my fantasy is to see a John McCain rally during which a scream rises up from the back of the room, and an angry old man rushes the stage to attack the speaker. The angry old man looks a lot like the speaker, actually. The lunatic raises his hand to the disturbed speaker's face, tears at his skin, and the audience gasps. That's not John McCain at the podium, that's an imposter! The lunatic is the real John McCain. He's been locked away by his campaign since the summer of last year, as a prisoner of electoral war. He promptly fires his entire staff, dumps Sarah Palin, and barnstorms with Joe Lieberman around the country. The John McCain who ruffles the feathers of Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity. The John McCain who actually inspires college students. The John McCain who lives his campaign slogan Country First. Being locked up once again leads him to greatness as he ekes out a victory on election day.

Up until now, I looked past the dangerous and divisive tactics of the paranoid nutjobs who insist they do not mean anything racist by saying the full name of Barack Hussein Obama. I've insisted that as long as those words aren't coming out of the mouth of the man himself, then that in no way provides a reason for voting against him. Well, I'm pretty sure Bush didn't make those calls in 2000 to South Carolina voters about McCain's "illegitimate black child," but he sure didn't do a lot to stop them. I don't agree with many of Barack Obama's policies, and I was hoping most of the country would agree with me and vote him down on that basis. But I'm not sure I can sit easy with the second personally noble guy of the past eight years to go down because of baseless fear about his character.

I think it silly to accuse John McCain of being a racist or a fearmonger. For him to be so now would be to repeat the same sins lobbed against him eight years ago, and he is obviously a better man than that. But while my love for the man and his policies have allowed me to overlook his surrogates' tactics, I cannot ignore the words of General Colin Powell who was so miffed by the allegations that Barack Obama is a Muslim. He's not, he's a Christian. And if he were a Muslim, so what? The icing on the cake was Limbaugh, who suggested that because he was made a general and a secretary of state by Republicans, his undying loyalty should be towards the party regardless of who he thinks is better for the job. I guess Rush didn't realize that the General was practicing "Country First," and as a necessary corollary, party second.

I also cannot reconcile the pick of the Alaskan governor as the first in line to assume the duties should the absolute worst happen. No, it's not because McCain is "old." But, c'mon, Nixon, Kennedy, FDR, Harding, McKinley, Harrison, Lincoln. That's a good fistful of guys who did not get to make their farewell addresses. And I don't think Ms. Palin is an idiot. Her state seems to love her with the sky-high approval ratings. She's obviously doing something right up there, all while juggling five children. People loved Governor George W. Bush, too. And by most reasonable accounts, of people who actually have known him, he's not an idiot either. But he is not naturally curious. So tell me how someone who just got her passport last year, who does not delve much further into foreign policy discussion than the rote party lines, how will that someone deal on the international stage? Tell me how that person has negotiating leverage with world leaders if she doesn't seem to naturally care about much more than making sure Joe Sixpack can keep his guns? And what this great nation needs to stay powerful is not someone no one on the world stage has heard of until two months ago. And I know Europeans don't get to vote, and I'm quite grateful for that, but fellow world leaders must know and respect that person with whom they are dealing.

Another inane argument put forth is that if we elect Barack Obama, the terrorists win. Sadly, I'm no longer hesitant to say that if we elect John McCain, the terrorists win. Not the kinds of terrorists who fly planes into our buildings, but those who stoke fear in the hearts of downtrodden Americans. Basically: You might have no job, no healthcare, and a foreclosed home, but that guy hates America! And if you don't hate America, vote for John McCain.

Those terrorists were enabled in 2000 and 2004. It might be time for me to set aside by admiration for a guy who I think basically deserves the presidency because of his career and life history, and instead join with my fellow Americans in sending him the message that this hate and division can no longer be tolerated. John McCain has two weeks to snap to it and clean up his campaign, or I might have to, with great pain, vote against him.

Of course, that doesn't mean I would necessarily have to vote for Obama. Mike Bloomberg would be a great write-in candidate, as would (if it were not for that pesky Constitution) Governor Schwarzenegger.

Goodbye, Old Friend

Why would a grown man get all emotional about the close of a building, infamously derided as a hokey dump, with a papier mache apple gimmick as one of its most famous features? When that grown man was just a boy, he would go with his Dad to attend this blue/purple monstrosity and see villains like Bobby Bonilla and Bret Saberhagen, and heroes like Eddie Murray and Todd Hundley. John Franco would be one or the other, depending on the day. The most vivid sensory image was the aroma of a Kahn's hot dog. That boy would go with his Dad, roughly ten times or so a year, to see those guys in the blue and orange mostly lose until the late 90s or so.

I stood above my seat in the Upper Reserve, Section 25, Row O, Seat 3 at 5:06pm today, seeing the worst come to fruition. Intense anger flooded my veins as, for the third year straight, the 25 guys to whom I had trusted my heart ripped it up like so much confetti that rained down over an hour later.

This latest failing was soon deemed irrelevant, as the anger became reflective sadness. I needed to see that video of Mr. Met packing up and leaving Shea Stadium while recalling that building's greatest memories like I needed a hole in my head. Thus the first tears welled up.

One summer afternoon in 1998, while the Mets were looking like contenders for the first time in nearly a decade, my Dad came home from work beaming. He told me that it looked like the team might be in the running for some guy whose name sounded like pizza, and that this guy was an incredible baseball player. I was twelve, so still had to rely on him to determine whether something the Mets did was good or bad. When he did actually come to Queens, he struggled a bit and drew the ire of a few pessimists, but my young mind saw something in him that can only be described as heroic. For eight years, there was no equal in my mind to Mike Piazza. As much as everyone knows I love David Wright, he still has quite a bit to go before he takes the crown of my favorite baseball player of all time. And it's a beautiful thing to know that in 2005, one man's last Mets season was the other's first.

So spending the final minutes in my home away from home, while not being able to comprehend a Mets game without a Shea Stadium, the guy whose named adorned my back for nine years was introduced during the park's farewell ceremony. The dam that was holding back those welled up tears instantly burst. For the first time in at least three years, I was openly sobbing uncontrollably. At this point, I was finally facing the fact that this personal mecca to which I've eagerly gone probably about 200 times, during meaningful games in September, already-meaningless games in July, two straight drizzly 40 degree April nights, a 95 degree night which preceded a New York City blackout, days with parents, best friends, girlfriends, and even a few by myself, four playoff games including Flushing's only game won in the 2000 World Series, a concert this July that nearly brought the house down, and the final three contests to ever occur in William A. Shea Municipal Stadium, that this Holy Ground would soon be a parking lot for a place called Citi Field. Too much to bear, and I felt terribly that it didn't see a happier finale. The dimming lights followed by the blue and orange flares shooting from the rafters moments after the greatest Met of my Dad's generation, Tom Seaver, threw the final pitch of the house to the greatest Met of my generation, Mike Piazza, was the only thing that the organization did right all day. And you know what? As I was walking down the ramps, snapping pictures at Mr. Met's various phrases underneath those exit signs I had seen so many times, I announced that no matter what the price, I would be on hand at 7:10PM on April 13th, 2009 to usher in a new era of magic.

But I'm still calling it Shea.

A Weekend to Remember

Now that my heart has stopped palpitating, I can write without the jitters. Tomorrow night begins wbat, as a baseball fan, is a wet dream. And as a Mets fan, it's a heart attack on a platter that will turn into either a wet dream or a cold corpse.

Indulge me on the crazy math and possibilities here. The Amazins' are one game behind Philadelphia for the NL East division title. They are tied with the Milwaukee Brewers for the NL Wild Card. The past 159 games do not matter right now. The 2008 season, as far as three teams in the National League are concerned, is three games long. Let's go from worst case to best case, shall we?

1. If the Mets win fewer games than Milwaukee and Philadelphia, they will be playing golf on Monday.
   
   
2. If the Mets win fewer games than Milwaukee and the same number of games as Philadelphia, I will commit suicide with David Wright's putter on Monday, because this is the best possible outcome we can have without actually getting anything.
   
   
3. If the Mets win the same number of games as both Milwaukee and Philadelphia, the Phillies are the division champs. Mets and Brewers play at Shea on Monday to decide the wild card.
   
   
4. If the Mets win the same number of games as Milwaukee, just one more game than Philadelphia, and the Phillies win one fewer game than Milwaukee, we have ESPN's and the media outlets of New York, Philadelphia, and Milwaukee's wet dreams. A three-way tie for two spots. This works as follows:
   
   The Mets and Phillies play in Philadelphia on Monday to duke it out for the division:
   
   4a) If the Mets lose this game, the Phillies are division champs, and the Mets play the Brewers on Tuesday at Shea. Winner is the wild card champ.
   4b) If the Mets win this game, they are the division champs and the Phillies play the Brewers in Philadelphia for the Wild Card.
   
   
5. If the Mets win one more game than Milwaukee, they are in the playoffs no matter what. This creates a wild card berth for the Mets if the Phillies win one more game than them.
   
   
6. If the Mets win one more game than Milwaukee and Philadelphia, the Mets finish tied in the standings for the NL East with Philadelphia. BUT since the Mets have a better head-to-head record against the Phillies this season (10-8), the Mets are the division champs without having to play a tie-breaker.
   
   
7. If number six above occurs, and the Phillies also win one more game or the same number of games as Milwaukee, the Phillies win the wild card, with the Mets still the division champs.
   
   
8. If number six above occurs, and the Phillies win one fewer game than Milwaukee, the Phillies play at home against the Brewers on Monday for the wild card, with the Mets still the division champs.
   
   
9. If number six above occurs, and the Phillies win two or three fewer games than the Brewers, Milwaukee is the wild card champ and the Mets are still the divison champs.

So there you have it, boys and girls. Nine scenarios. Quiz in five minutes. Lets go Mets.

I've calculated out each and every scenario, because I'm beyond obsessive. Eight-six scenarios exist, in which the Phillies make it 73 times (84.9% probability), the Brewers make it 45 times (52.3% probability), and the Mets make it 54 times (62.8% probability).

Only two can make it. WHO WILL THEY BE?!

Best Frenemies Forever!

This week at the Democratic National Convention, we saw tensions between an envious, experienced old-hand and a smug up-and-comer who now rules the roost simmer at the end of a long week. That's right, the respective hosts of MSNBC's Hardball and Countdown put aside their bickering for the sake of unity last night.

The Peacock organization's spunky liberal child has kept me enthralled with its political coverage this year. Why, you ask of this centrist? It's the talent pool, really. When the CBS Evening News and ABC's World News are off the air, no one sees those networks' fine reporters. However, when you own a 24-hour cable station, anything can happen in a big spot. Hey, Tommy B.! Not doin' anything? Here, come on camera, talk about uhh, the 1968 DNC! Bri Wi, charm us with a tale of a run-in with a PUMA. The place hasn't had mandatory watching like this since Seinfeld and Friends were riding high.

Then there's Snarky and Looney. I've now completely gotten over the departure of Chris Russo from WFAN because Keith Olbermann and Chris Matthews are the new Mike and the Mad Dog of politics. Tie these two egomaniacs to a desk in Denver for twenty-six hours over four days and I hope you're not allergic to cats because the fur flies! But when the Anointed One gave his nomination speech, the Democrats weren't the only ones singing Kumbaya. These boys were complimenting each other back and forth on each other's analysis to the point where you thought this was a promo for a Brokeback Mountain Special Edition DVD. Fortunately, evidence of this has been spared from YouTube, so you'll have to take my word for it. I'm pretty sure that more often than not they detest each other, but boys and girls, this Must See TV continues at 5pm Monday in St. Paul. Granted that they both carry Senator Obama's water, however, it will be interesting to see the dynamic next week. But since Olbermann goes into spasms within twenty-five feet of a Republican, his general state of anger might be more directed at his guests than his yellow-haired (no, not blonde, yellow) co-host.

Speaking of the Red Team, America was spared the horror of a full 4% of the Senate running for the executive branch today. Senator McCain going with Sarah Palin gives us something new to look at, satirize, and spit out over the next two months. And to all those who criticize her for her lack of foreign policy ticket, look at the Democratic headliner. Subjected to a blind taste test, I don't think I have to guess whether most Americans would rather a president with no foreign policy experience, or a vice president with none.

I also like Governor Palin because she's mom-like. And moms know how to organize and run things!

My prayers and thoughts go out to the very funny Rob Bartlett this week. If you're familiar with his genius, then YOU CAN ACT LIKE A MAN and send good wishes his way at www.myspace.com/therobio.

Say Somethin' Funny, Mikey

Well, wow. My New York Metropolitans continue to dominate and "run roughshod over the National League" in exciting fashion. Two and a half games up on Philadelphia. But I'll keep my excitement to a dull roar until we actually, God forbid, clinch a postseason spot.

Speaking of my favorite sports team in the entire universe, the station on which their radio broadcasts are carried has suffered another dangerous blow. Sixteen months after Imus in the Morning was pulled from the WFAN airwaves, the also-crucial afternoon drive spot has lost its Mad Dog of Mike and the Mad Dog. Since the age of roughly twelve, the show has been my afternoon soundtrack, either while procrastinating on homework or, in recent years, driving home from school. It also seems that the Mets contract with your flagship station for New York sports is up next year. If the Mets go elsewhere, then Mark Chernoff, turn your transmitter off now.

For the record, Mike Francesa, as the remaining survivor of the team on WFAN, will now have a show known as "Francesa on the FAN." But as anyone who has heard the man speak would know, the correct enunciation of the show's title is: Francesuhh.........onnnnnnn the FAN."

As of the end of next week, I will be living in my big boy apartment in Astoria. While Manhattan was my original goal, both the low price tag of the neighborhood and its eternal charm kept me in my native borough. I don't think I'll be making a move without this guy.

I expect to be roused from a peaceful sleep early tomorrow morning by that magical text message from the Obama campaign stating who his Number Two will be. To paraphrase Dick Morris, if Senator Obama gives the nod to Tim Kaine, it will be a recent state senator picking a recent mayor of a city with a population of 200,000. I basically see tomorrow as Election Day. Ceteris paribus, if Hillary Clinton is his nominee, Obama wins. If not, hello Mr. President-elect McCain.

In watching the Olympics lately, and seeing Brian Williams proclaim during promos, "I'm in Beijing, but I'm from Jersey, and I'm 4 New York!" I've been reminded of this from 1992, with familiar figures Len Berman, a hairier Al Roker, Chuck Scarborough, and Sue "The F*** Are You Doing?!" Simmons.

Done! Done! Done!

My academic career launched on September 9, 1990, in Mrs. Blaine's pre-kindergarten class. From there, I endured eighteen years of academic rigor until I retired from academia on August 1, 2008 after Dr. Estelami's Marketing of Financial Services MBA class. With a little help from AP classes in high school and a marvelous summer study abroad program in London, I managed to finish my bachelor's in seven semesters and my master's in an additional two. Mind you, I am not gloating at all. But reflecting on the whole journey begs the question, "What the heck kind of masochist am I, anyway?"

I now have fifty-one days of freedom until I begin working full-time. What's a boy to do? Well, first of all, there has been lying on my floor since June an untouched twenty pound box of CPA review materials. I also plan on finishing John McCain's second memoir Worth the Fighting For. Watching MSNBC until I'm blue in the face and can't hear the words "hardball" or "countdown" without turning violently ill is also an aspiration. I also have this little thing called a "gym membership" which has served me well so far, but I figure I should continue the habit of working out regularly before I'm stuck in an audit room for ten hours a day with Three Musketeers bars and Starbucks fat-accinos. Six weeks from tomorrow is the half-marathon in my native borough, at which I plan on finishing in a personal best 1:55.

Then there's this little thing called an "apartment" that has been breathing down my neck. The easy way out of this dilemma would be to stay at home, rent-free, which my parents would fully endorse and would be quite acceptable as they feed me quite full and are very good people to be around. However, the commute from midtown to my house during normal hours averages an hour, and on weekends when I'm carousing the town I can expect to crawl into bed at 4am if I leave a bar at 2. Also, not to invoke the "well if everyone else jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge, would you" maxim, but it would be slightly strange to be the only one among my colleagues who still lives in his or her childhood home.

Let summer begin.

On Aspirations

Sometimes, I wish I could lay this blog out like the Drudge Report. That would lead me to post a lot more. At 2pm on a typical day, you might see something like:

CAN'T BELIEVE HE ATE THE WHOLE THING
REPORT: It was very "yummy"...

But He Just May Be the Lunatic You're Looking For

Dear Christie Brinkley,

Now that your divorce from that dolt who didn't deserve your beauty and grace is final, give the people what we want and go back to your one true love: Billy Joel. What kind of "steam" were you blowing off with him over 4th of July anyway? The Piano Man deserves your loving back in his life, and no one likes his ditz of a new wife anyway. Methinks that if you're lonely for a man, he'll still say, "Take me as I am."

Odds N Ends

So I have a brilliant idea that would pass muster with the vast majority of Americans. However, this means nothing because McCain Inc. and Obama-Mart (since these campaigns are essentially corporations) as well as pundits like those whose names begin with the letter "C" and end in "hris Matthews" would resoundingly reject my idea as though I were to ask them for the skin off their faces.

Simple as this: Obama versus McCain. Not David Axelrod versus Rick Davis. Not Wesley Clark versus Joe Lieberman. One of these men will be President. The next gasoline price milestone or the first global terror threat under a new administration will not send Americans demanding answers from these bloviators and cheerleaders. The American people need to know the guy in charge, not the guys and gals who know the guys that want to be in charge. FIRE THE REST OF THE BUMS.

From an objective standpoint, as someone who admires both candidates, they are both miles apart on policy, but were nominated by their parties for the same flippin' reason. Barack Obama and John McCain were each the most independent thinking, off-the-cuff, likable people from each of their respective parties. While I admire Hillary Clinton and while I think Mitt Romney is probably Senator McCain's best veep option, could you imagine a general election between these two focus-grouped, moldable, say-anything-to-win loonies? They would end up running so far and so fast to the center, because that's what you're supposed to do between June and November, that they'd probably cross paths and you'd hear Romney calling for the repeal of the Bush tax cuts and Clinton demanding an amendment to ban gay marriage.

Free-thinking Democrats and free-thinking Republicans produced the presumptive nominees, and now these voters are being betrayed. Stick a flag pin on Barack, even though he'll look like a sell-out to our base! Tell McCain to stop calling reporters jerks, no matter how affectionately he means it! The only way to let these candidates be who they are, how to act in the way they got to the big stage, is to get rid of all their handlers. So what if Obama's personality doesn't appeal to the Rust Belt Reagan Democrats? So what if McCain makes jokes about attacking other countries to the tune of Beach Boys songs? Fire their whole campaign staffs, save a few in charge of scheduling and travel. Get rid of campaign commercials - all they are is noise to those who don't care and regurgitation to those who already know what's going on. Let them spend money only on essentials and traveling the country to meet voters. Rather than obliquely responding to a campaign's surrogate, the only people who may speak for John McCain and Barack Obama are, yes, John McCain and Barack Obama. You might not get the same volume of minutiae on the cable shows (but, but, but, I wanna hear Lindsay Graham responding to Evan Bayh responding to Joe Lieberman responding to Wes Clark!), but you'll get an intelligent, sane campaign with people knowing about the issues more than they know about the Obama campaign's faux-presidential seal.

My Metsies made it five in a row tonight. I find it interesting and slightly puzzling that the weekend series against the Rockies, usually a pedestrian outing against a team in some other division, is picked up regionally by Fox on Saturday and nationally by ESPN on Sunday.

Brother Jesse: Don't sugar coat it, tell us how you really feel about your candidate. All of us in Hymietown really want to know.

And Stay Out

For those of you select few mouthbreeding morons who followed through on your promise to leave this great country in 2004 and are now threatening to return if Senator Obama is elected, just do the rest of us a favor and stay put.

This land doesn't need fair-weather citizens. Fair enough if you were one of the tens of millions of people that were outraged by the occurrence of Double Dubya, but that doesn't nearly constitute grounds for betraying your country. Your move was the maturity equivalent of storming out on your parents after years of love and care because they fell on hard times for a little while. How do you think they would feel if you returned once times were good again? Stay in Canada, England or Zimbabwe.

You see, one of the countless great things we have in this country is the frequent election. Although Bush was given a second chance, it quickly drowned in the floods of Katrina, got buried in the fallout from Harriet Miers and was bombed by the failings of the war in Iraq. Enter the midterm elections of November 2006, and the American people rightfully took the Congress away from him. He hasn't gotten what he's wanted as often since. See? If you waited two years, you would have watched a lame duck fall further into irrelevance right before your very eyes. Bottom line: You woulda lived.

I mentioned Zimbabwe earlier in this post with sarcasm. However, their sad truth of running an opposition candidate who the populace clearly wanted, then threatening voters to vote for Mugabe or die is something we have never seen in this country. THOSE could be considered grounds for abandoning ship.

Life at 5,280

I am currently broadcasting from Room 423 of the Oxford Hotel in downtown Denver. My cousin got hitched out here yesterday, which explains the whole two-time-zone-away thing. Figured I would take a few minutes while I'm waiting for my cousins to make a decision on dinner to do a quick post.

One of the first things that my Dad's friend noticed Thursday was the utter rarity of obesity in this city. I am told that this is one of the five healthiest cities in our nation, and the abundance of bike riders and granola might have something to do with that.

Coors Field, the thirteen year old home of the Colorado Rockies, is a five minute walk from my hotel. If you are even a smidgen of a baseball fan and find yourself out here, the tour of the stadium is great! At $7, the tour is a third of the cost of Fenway Park's, and you basically get to go everywhere except the home locker room and fair territory on the field. The table in the visiting locker room still contains a David Ortiz cleat mark from last season's World Series celebration, and the picture my dad took of me on the top step of the Rockies' dugout will toolishly preside as my Facebook pic for a while. Other fun things to do are stroll down the 16th Street Mall and drink one (or twenty) of the city's four jabbabillion microbrews.

Last night's events made up one of those nights that you do not forget for a long time. The wedding was great, and my cousin and her betrothed are two genuinely solid people. The "mobbed out" New Yorkers, my family and all of their 50-something rowdy friends really set the tone for an unabashed fun celebration, and I'm pretty sure I taught the Electric Slide to a cute girl or two. As someone who has tremendous admiration for the institution of marriage, it made me think a little about my own wedding somewhere down the road of this life.

I Just Hope He Doesn't Have to Buy Them Corn

In case you're feeling stressed by the current state of the economy, or just dread the upcoming dog days of summer, take heart that today is June 25th. That's right, tomorrow we'll be closer to next Christmas than we are the last. And the Big Guy don't never cancel Christmas. Four and a half per gallon does not affect the sleigh pulled by reindeer.

Speaking of summer, Awesomeness On A Stick officially endorses that type of woman's blouse that kind of looks like a drawstring backpack at the top. I'm not sure what they are called, but there were plenty of them on the streets of New York today. As Springsteen said: the girls in their summer clothes. Well done, ladies.

The Man to Right the Ship

To celebrate this bit of good news, let's watch one of Dana Carvey's greatest skits of all time ::all time::.

If It's Sunday, It's Meet the Press. If It's Sunday, It's Tim

So were the words of journalist and Tim Russert friend, Sally Quinn.

In a better world, I would have woken up this morning, given my Dad a Father's Day hug, and eaten a bacon and egg sandwich with him from the corner deli. Around 10:32 or 3, since I was always just a tad late, I would have casually made my way out of the kitchen and into the living room to watch a senator supporting Obama and a senator supporting McCain debate the issues with Tim Russert moderating and making sure neither of them got out of hand touting his respective candidate.

Today, there was a Father's Day hug, just a little tighter because at times like these you don't take things for granted as much. There was the same breakfast. But at 10:27 I was on the couch, simultaneously dreading and hoping for the next three minutes to pass by quickly. Seeing that empty chair on the set as Tom Brokaw noblely anchored the best tribute of this weekend was tough, to say the least.

I know the show must go on - as big as Tim is, we can't lose two national institutions at the same time. I will not stop watching either, because I know that NBC will not let their finest program fall apart. However, I'm a little scared to know who will take the helm. Probably the only person I could accept in that chair right now is Tom Brokaw, because the man has always been nothing but the epitome of classy, and because he is the best qualified to take over - like when ABC finally wised up and installed Charles Gibson after it initially fumbled finding a suitable replacement for Peter Jennings. I'm not sure I'd be able to handle Keith Olbermann or David Gregory, because their preening and self-importance are the total opposite of what Tim was.

In a perfect world, for me and probably many others, Mr. Brokaw would hold down the fort for a few years, until Luke Russert would be ready and capable to moderate the show. The again, in a perfect world, Tim would still be here. According to Mike Barnicle this morning, Luke said yesterday that Meet the Press was Tim's other son. Wouldn't it be fitting then for these "brothers" to come together and do their Dad proud for years to come?

Tell Me A Lie And Say That You Won't Go

Tim Russert, the NBC News Washington Bureau Chief and moderator of Meet the Press died today at the age of 58 from a heart attack.

I was driving when I got the news in a text from a good friend who knows about my borderline obsession with Mr. Russert.

I'm watching MSNBC right now, which obviously has been covering this story since Tom Brokaw broke it after 3PM. Mr. Brokaw, Brian Williams, Andrea Mitchell, Keith Olbermann and so many others have been focusing minimally on his professional and public accomplishments and almost entirely on the work ethic and demeanor of a true gentleman.

A horribly ironic part of this tragedy is that Father's Day is just two days from now, and his utter devotion to his son as well as to his father Big Russ was a fundamental part of his character.

This obviously puts a huge damper on this year's biggest news story, one to which he was all over constantly. The "Tim Russert Primary" even before Iowa was genius as he interviewed each and every presidential candidate and even tripped up a few of them. Sunday mornings and Tuesday nights since January were his times to shine. Each primary night I would come home from school and wait to fully form my opinions of what happened until Mr. Russert invariably dropped a bomb of wisdom.

I don't think I can do my feelings about him any more justice by writing right now, so I'll go back to zoning out in front of MSNBC. Barbara Walters just said that while this is a big loss for the journalism world who knew him personally, Americans across the country would be saddened as well.

A few months ago, as I was struggling with selecting a "political view" on Facebook because I've grown dissatisfied with the Republican Party and I don't think I could ever be a Democrat, I just typed in "Tim Russert." That name conveys patriotism, trustworthiness, and dedication. The perfect political view for anyone.

To a Catholic raised in the Jesuit tradition: Rest well in Heaven, sir.

P.S. I just realized in my shocked state that this is now the second huge loss in television journalism since the last presidential election cycle. On November 4th, I'll need whatever satelitte carries the Heaven News Channel, to watch Peter Jennings and Tim Russert cover election night.

Cockfighting, Dogfighting and...

We have a pool of six billion humans from which to choose athletes, so WHY is horse racing even still considered a sport? The owners of Big Brown should be fined and banned from the sport for attempting to race that poor, obviously injured animal.

Let the Dog Days Begin

This is generally the time of year when I become most irritable, most grouchy and most laconic. There is something psychological about the ninety degree barrier that both angers and depresses me. Add in our good friend Mr. Humidity, and the thought of walking to the corner deli for a sandwich defeats me. My mother makes fun of me for this, since I'm such an avid runner and I often come home from my long exercises dripping all over the carpet. That, however, is a product of much cooler temperatures. I don't mind working myself into a self-made sauna when the mercury reads a much more benign seventy, but this weather? Well, pitooey.

The nice thing about living in south Queens, minutes from Jamaica Bay, is the ocean factor. Right now, the temperature in Central Park? Ninety-three. South Ozone Park, NY? A chilly eighty-two.

The only thing more brutal than a New York winter is a New York summer.

5-7-5

Chappaqua, New York
A senator returned there
Not 1600

Newspapers sell out
New Yorkers shocked to find no pun
"The Obam-inee!"

The blue team's night out
But first, a word from Naw'lins
"My friends"; Down that shot

------------------------------

I am the grammarian about whom your mother warned you.
-Man's t-shirt on subway escalator at 51st and Lex.

Just a Thought

As I was reading the Times on the subway the other day, I did a double take during an otherwise pedestrian article I was slogging through. In mentioning a statement by the governor of the great State of New York, the article referred to him as James Paterson rather than David Paterson.

The New York Times is my favorite newspaper and I gave this a mental chuckle because some poor bleary-eyed editor at 1A.M. was probably just as bored as I was reading this piece and overlooked it harmlessly. Yet I'd imagine the Sean Hannities of the world wouldn't find it too much of a stretch to intone that since the paper mentioned a mystery novelist in place of the actual governor, this just goes to show that the Times supports fiction more than fact.

Ronald Reagan? The actor? Then who's VICE-President, Jerry Lewis?

Not often (actually, this is probably the first time) do I say the phrase: Tragic news out of Hollywood today. However, a blaze at Universal Studios took from our society the set of the Hill Valley Clock Tower from Back to the Future. Now Marty McFly will never get back to 1985. That space-time continuum is such a darned stickler for the rules.

Viva Hillary in Puerto Rico today. Yet the Obamamaniacs are salivating for Tuesday night and/or Wednesday morning when the scarily untested Barack Obama is expected to reach the new magic number of 2118. My boy Big Fat Timmy Russert actually proclaimed: "This is so over!" Patience, Timmy, patience. Wait another month and I bet we'll learn that guest preacher Rev. Billy Sol Hargis declared Senator Clinton as Satan in an appearance at Trinity United Church, during which Senator Obama nodded in relieved agreement.

I remarked to my friend Angelina at lunch the other day that if the Democratic National Committee were a publicly traded company, shareholders would be calling for the board's heads. Yes, Senator Obama received the most delegates and is inspirational and transformative and sexy, but you are going to have a lot of angry little Appalachians on your hands soon, Howard Dean. The Republican Party has made it their business now two terms in a row to get a generally unsavory guy to propel themselves to victory. Why? Because they know it's their mission to win. Is that the mission of the Democrats? Doubtful at this point. Barack is getting killed in polls in Ohio and Florida, and those 47 swing electoral votes cannot be lost if you really want one of your own in the White House this January. Polls show Senator Obama getting whooped by Senator McCain in those states.

My bottom line advice to the DNC: If you want to nominate Obama, fine. But pull him aside and say, "Pick Hillary as your running mate, or we're nominating her instead." It's the party's only hope.

Also, if Senator McCain takes Mitt Romney as his running mate, I'm requesting a write-in ballot and voting Clinton.

Right, back to writing grad school papers.

As the Garden Turns...

New Knicks head coach Mike D'Antoni: He'll add a new classy, sunny face to losing.

On Old Addresses New Again

With Texas superdelegate Jaime Gonzalez, Jr. endorsing my new goomah Hillary, this brings her RealClearPolitics delegate total to 1600. As in 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Don't get me wrong. Senator McCain's still my guy. Much as I'm catching HRC fever right now, in November it'll be bros before hos.

In other news, tomorrow is the third leg of the New York City Half Marathon Grand Prix. I'll be plodding down the Coney Island Boardwalk while most of you are drifting your way through alcohol induced (yet R.E.M. free) sleep.

I graduate in...15 days. Wow.

A Real Nowhere Man

Bless me, readers, for I have sinned. It has been eighteen days since my last posting.

Ah, now I can sleep with a clear conscience.

"Reverend Wright is just the gift that keeps on giving."
-My Hillary Clinton loving co-worker

On Coiffures, Unplanned

Like the dandy-boy I can be when I'm not watching a baseball game, sipping a Guinness, or extolling the potential virtues of a McCain presidency, as I just brushed my teeth in the mirror I sheepishly wished that my rain-tousled hair could always look this way.

My Baby Takes the Morning Train

This Awesomeness On A Stick blog entry starts...well, it'll start in about fifty words or so.

So I'm sitting in my Options & Futures class the other night wanting to bludgeon my eyes out with the blunt end of my desk. For the seventh straight example, my droning professor is talking about which minimum risk hedge ratio should be used to hedge the Japanese yen with the Russell 2000, and I'm thinking: "Yipes, is this really the best thing people find to do with their lives?"

I mean, wouldn't it be a little more fascinating and thought provoking to ponder the course of American history without a President Lincoln, rather than whether we should over-hedge or under-hedge? How about debating the relative merits of rational-emotive therapy? Should we withdraw from the Beijing Olympics? Where do the Elgin Marbles really belong?

Hey, I'm not really that naive. I know I chose my major, yet I wonder how it would have turned out had I done it all over again. I mean I still would have majored in Accounting at the undergrad level. Those classes did not enrage me, and I saw the benefits that accountants provide society - particularly auditors, who, as I like to say: keep the thieves honest.

But now that I'm working on an M.B.A. in Finance, I cannot help but take a look around my classes and wonder what kind of people these are that just give of themselves towards a profession that inherently really doesn't mean anything. When one way of making money dries up, they invent a new, vastly more complex method to fool everyone and abscond with treasure.

But hey, to each his own. I still, of course, believe that capitalism is the most efficient way to run an economy. It's just that lately, whenever I get frustrated over a fifteen minute discussion of how to calculate beta, I am reminded of my favorite quote from one of my favorite movies - Wall Street. After the profit-at-any-cost driven Bud Fox is about to go to trial for insider trading, tail between his legs, his father Carl has advice for Bud's future after prison. Carl is the quintessential old-school blue-collar New Yorker, the kind of middle class guy I grew up idolizing for his work ethic. Old Carl tells his son, "Create, instead of living off the buying and selling of others."

When I began my accelerated M.B.A. program in January, one which will be complete in August, many people asked me why I was starting so early. My simple answer was, "Well, I don't have anything better to do till I start working in September." This is essentially true, though it needs to be qualified. I am not discounting the whole business school experience, and I have enjoyed a few of my classes, and I will enjoy my summer courses even more. Yet people ask why I would so doggedly want to complete this process if I am not completely satisfied. Well, it opens a lot of doors and does help in your future. Much like no one ever enjoys a trip to the DMV, but do you wanna drive or not? Thought so, so take a deep breath and deal with the grey walls and the smelly man standing in front of you.

It will get better, so don't worry about me joining any communes in Seattle. I haven't been laid off yet.

The Office returns Thursday evening from its strike induced hiatus. I know you'll all be watching.

I promise a better entry next time. This didn't go in the direction which I wanted, but few things do. Mikey needs to vent every now and then. So hold tight baby 'cause don't you know Daddy's coming! (Sorry, that was the background Springsteen music talking).

Just Chill And Throw Out the Mushy Pickles

You may be a terrific person and believe that everyone should love you and agree with you on everything. But do you yourself love everybody? Of course not. So who cares if Matt Taibbi probably would call you a douchebag, or if Donnie Walsh wouldn't hypothesize that you were probably a good kid growing up.

There are a lot of great, intelligent people that you would dismiss as well. So?

Guess Who's Back

So I leave for a week and you people change the governor on me?

Next winter, the first time you hate your life for living in New York during December/January/February and, the most fickle of them all, March, do me a favor: Book a trip to Mexico. The sun, the beautiful sea, the food, the drinks, the women. Who goes home after that? As much as we all know I love my current events here, the chatter of the Caribbean Sea beats the chatter of Hillary Clinton any day. Seriously, send me back there. Just be ready to install a shuffleboard court and early-bird all-you-can-eat shrimp buffet in forty years for me.

Mere weeks ago, I was convinced I'd walk into the booth on November 4th not knowing which lever to pull. Thank you, Rev. Jeremiah Wright for saving me a few sleepless nights. The pastor is right about many things. The history of racism in this country is regrettable and unfortunately continues to this day in some form. I would be pretty outraged myself if my success were in some way influenced by deep-seated suspicions of my skin color by a discriminating few. A national conversation on race - once nobly attempted but feebly executed by former President Clinton - would provide great catharsis and bring us to Senator Obama's dream of transcending race.

However, Senator Obama and most people in the media miss the point about what has caused so much hurt. This story would have died rather quickly if Reverend Wright's sermons stuck to the topic of decrying racism and the need to rise above it. Even the most pigheaded of people who think racism no longer exists would likely not condemn Senator Obama for associating himself with this man. No, I am pretty sure the real reason we cannot look past this issue lies somewhere in one or all three of the following statements:

1) The chickens came home to roost on 9/11
2) The American government planted AIDS on black people
3) "God damn America"

These statements are so radical and hurtful that you cannot juxtapose them with the context of any great things the man has done. If you want to be President of the United States, do you not expect people to have reservations about your leadership based on the statements of your mentor and close friend? As Senator Clinton said today, you can't choose your family members, but you can choose your pastor. The only patriotic response to this whole situation is to immediately resign membership from this Church. I'm not even running for president, but if my pastor had said any of these statements, you can bet I'd be consulting the Diocese of Brooklyn directory as I got home.

There is such a thing as being too open-minded. I don't think this situation has proved Senator Obama to be unpatriotic (with his life story, anyone would love this country), but I do think it's shown him to be a little naive. What does this say of future dealings with world leaders with whom we do not have the best diplomatic relations? This situation raised doubts about a subject which I had previously been waving off like a mosquito: Experience. He has served just a half-term in the Senate, and that is really starting to rear its ugly head. Furthermore, I just got done with an elected official with a somewhat short prior public service record. And I voted for Spitzer. I refuse to make the same mistake again. Like them or not, at least with Senators Clinton and McCain's combined 131 years of life, there will not be very much room for surprise.

Obama's eloquent, moving speech last week re-proved his abilities as a communicator, healer, and uniter. Sadly for him, the job description of President is far more complex.

Steamrolled

Right you've all heard about recent events in my state, so, stream of consciousness:

(Warning: Some of these are tongue-in-cheek satire, which is my way of expressing my rage over what happened.)

1. Quick, someone register www.bloomerg2010.com and sell it to future Governor Mike's campaign.

2. Maybe if Hillary cares about her "home state" so much, she should run for Albany once she loses the nomination/general election. Let the hometown rags have all their fun about the first husband and wife team to be governors of two separate states.

3. Maybe if Hillary is elected president, Bill will get bored and run for New York governor. He'll just want Eliot to leave his little black book behind.

4. Yes, Spitzer will resign soon. He's just waiting for the state constitution to be translated into Braille. (Lieutenant Governor Paterson is blind.)

5. In the same year that we might have our first black president, New York will surely have its first governor (Lieutenant Governor Paterson is also African-American.)

6. Governor Paterson just has a more gubernatorial ring to it than Spitzer. It sounds comfortable and trustworthy, just like upstate New York.

7. I knew I should've voted for John Faso.

8. Great, how are women expected to trust men now? VALENTINE'S DAY EVE?!

9. Ah, yes, No. 9. As in Client No. 9.

10. Someone let me know when the pre-sale is to buy front-row seats to the People of the State of New York vs. Eliot Spitzer.

11. And I thought November 4th would be the best political day of this year. This might beat it by far.

12. I called it yesterday (and would have done it myself if I had a radio show): Don Imus played the "Number 9" voice from The Beatles' "Revolution No. 9" as he went to break.

13. I leave for Spring Break to Cozumel, Mexico on Wednesday morning. When I come back next week, I'll be sure to say something corny like, "Geez, I go away for a week and you change the governor?"

14. In all seriousness though, I don't think I could possibly feel worse for his wife and daughters. No one deserves this, no matter how much of a self-righteous tool your husband/father is.

And Then There Were Three

Before moving on to our painfully obvious top stories, first: A tribute to Governor Mike Huckabee. Mr. Huckabee ran an honorable, compassionate, shoe-string campaign. While I never thought he should be our next president, I do hope he remains heavily on the national stage. The man can crack a good joke, too. Late night talk show host, anyone?

Brownback, Tancredo, Hunter, Thompson, Giuliani, Romney, Paul, Huckabee. All these men vowed to be the second coming of Ronald Reagan. All were defeated decisively at the hands of Arizona Senator John McCain.

Barely registering double-digits in the fall, Senator McCain came storming back, seeming to pick up every single vote that then-front-runner Rudy Giuliani lost. Despite the lack of support from the party machine, ordinary Republican voters across the nation saw the Straight Talk Express as the means of transportation to arrive at a more united America then has existed these past seven years. A Republican that even a Democrat could love.

The moral of the GOP story is that it doesn't matter how much you pander to your "base" - your best strategy is to tell it like it is and stand firmly behind your record, no matter how controversial.

In the blue column, could this be the first time Saturday Night Live has been relevant in at least fifteen years? Appearing jovial and relaxed for once, Senator Hillary Clinton reminded the nation that ain't no party like a Clinton party 'cause a Clinton party don't stop. She finally had her audience with young people. While I haven't seen exit polls breaking down age this evening, I'm sure the aura surrounding her SNL appearance definitely did not hurt.

I will go on record now and say something bold and, well, unlike me. One of three senators will be elected president on November 4th. Any of these three - yes, any of these three - would put us in a better place than we are now. No matter which candidate wins the yet to be determined Texas (at 12:39AM EST, people are still waiting to caucus due to record-shattering turnout), the real winners tonight are the people of the United States of America.

P.S.

I know the layout of this blog looks ridiculous. But I majored in Accounting, not interior decorating (miracles and not math?).

I'm open to any and all recommendations.

Meet the Angry

Every once in a while a person comes along who captures my intrigue and amusement. Why Tim Russert? Let me sum it up for you: If you go into his Sunday morning kingdom, touting your impressive record of integrity upon which the American populace can hang their hats, he will point to the screen and up will pop the quote, "Yes, Mommy, I finished all my homework," when in fact, mere moments after your bold statement fifty years ago, your mother pointed to the undone question #4 of your second grade math homework.

The Road to the White House contains a one hour red stoplight at Nebraska Avenue NW in the Washington Bureau of NBC News. Flip-flop or contradict yourself in front of Angry Timmy, and you couldn't get elected dog catcher of your hometown. Refuse to appear on Meet the Press, and anybody who's anybody will bristle at your cowardice.

Why wait until now to dedicate this post to His Adamance, when I've been watching his show ever since the infamous interview that put him on the map: "Rabbi Christ, you poured wine into this cup, and moments later, without pouring anything out or anything else in, the exact same cup was said to contain blood. How do you explain that?" The reason for this tribute, my friends, is given in the opening moments of Democratic Debate XX on MSNBC this past Tuesday night in Ohio, as pretty boy Brian Williams introduced his moderating partner. The very next face on camera was the crazed glare of a fat man whose pork chop was just stolen and who had just been spat at in the face by the miserable thief (see the top of this post). SMILE, for crying out loud, Timmy! Or at least give a curt nod. Hillary didn't even lie to your face yet! I came close to wetting my pants in the midst of my laughter at this display.

The Buffalo, NY native's ensuing performance was excellent. Refusing to change the topic about public financing in a McCain-Obama matchup, he basically got Barack to admit he might break his own word. Pressing Senator Clinton about why she hasn't released the records of her activity as First Lady - to shed some light on her "35 years of experience" - led her to sound foolish as she blurted, "Well I'm a little busy right now!"

His coup de grace of the night, however, came during a follow-up question about Iraq, before which both candidates said upon taking office they would begin withdrawing troops immediately and then keep behind residual forces to maintain peace. In a hypothetical situation as the voice of the Iraqi government, he portrayed that nation's leaders expressing dismay at our rapid withdrawal yet willingness to keep some men behind by raging, "No! Get out! Get. Out. Now." I promptly hid under the covers.

Getting back to my point about his interviews with candidates. In mine and a good friend of mine's opinions, Ron Paul's campaign truly ended on December 23, 2007 solely at the hands of Mr. Russert. Backing Mr. Paul into a corner about the difference between his earmarking philosophy and non-corresponding actions, he, as he is wont to do, made the Republican Congressman from Texas sound like a babbling Alzheimer's patient. See for yourself in the video below, from 6:17 to 8:55



If it's Sunday, it's Meet Your Death. Go Bills!

Rando Thoughts

1. I should marry an Italian girl. They all have big families and I would never go hungry. I realized this today as Sal and his wife at Pugsley's (pizza place by my school) kept putting food in front of me as I was filling out a $200 order for Beta Alpha Psi.
2. If you insist on referring to Senator Obama as Barack Hussein Obama because "that's his full name," then please refer to his opponents as Hillary Diane Rodham Clinton, John Sidney McCain III, and Michael Dale Huckabee. Until then, most people will think of you as an inane racist and Islamophobe. And before you say, "Well what about William Jefferson Clinton, Richard Millhouse Nixon, and Franklin Delano Roosevelt," please keep in mind that these men all referred to themselves as those names from time time.
3. I'm very much addicted to the Sopranos.
4. Winter just needs to kill itself. I hate running in tights and with a hat on.
5. Maureen Dowd wrote in this past Sunday's New York Times, "When historians trace how her inevitability dissolved, they will surely note this paradox: The first serious female candidate for president was rejected by voters drawn to the more feminine management style of her rival."
   
6. My Mom just bought some really delicious tea from Teavana last week. Sometimes I chew on the leaves.
   

Done

Yikes. No more politics for a while. You know it's time to give something a rest when even you're tired of it.

I just started watching The Sopranos. Yes, typical, Mike catching on to something about nine years after it started. Well, I didn't have HBO as a boy (nor do I now), but Netflix is helping me bridge some gaps. It is totally mind blowing, just the art of that show. Perhaps the first thing that people from Howard Beach and the Upper West Side can agree on since, oh, just ever.

Where You Goin', Hillary?

YOU GOIN' NOWHERE

You can have all the national conventions you want in August until the cows come home. The fight for the Democratic nomination ended on February 12, 2008.

Among women in Virginia:
Obama 59%

Among senior citizens:
Obama 52%

Among low-income people:
Obama: 50%

Among white men:
Obama: 58%

Among whites overall:
Obama: 50%

That, my friends, is what I call cutting into some Clinton constituencies. And, most importantly, that shows that white people will come out for Obama, despite what Clinton fans might want you to believe.

Just In Case You Were Wondering...

Projections are in for the Washington and Nebraska caucusii. Natch, you know who won since Caucus is Senator Obama's REAL middle name.

Some people think it's a little odd that he's swept almost every caucus except for Nevada and American Samoa (yeah, they get delegates to the party convention, but no electoral votes). I think the answer is quite clear if you think about it. What's less weird, shouting "YES WE CAN!" while standing in a group of your friends and neighbors, or sounding like a raving lunatic yelling the same by yourself behind a curtain?

Tomorrow's the Bronx Half-Marathon, which is why I'm blogging rather than partying on a Saturday evening. 'Ish me luck.

Mitt Leaves Himself Open to Another Flip-Flop

He's suspending his campaign? What, if every single Republican in next Tuesday's Potomac Primary decides to show him some sympathy, he'll be semi-back in contention and pollute our airwaves again with his phony aw-shucks oration? As Warner Wolf would say: C'maawwn! If you had Mitt Romney plus 440 delegates, you lost!"

In all seriousness, I know he's not stupid enough to try to get back in at some point, but it's just another example of how much he resists just telling it like it is. He didn't drop out of the race, he "suspended" his campaign. Just like as governor of Massachusetts, he didn't raise taxes, he increased "fees." I guess he has never taken a ride on the Straight Talk Express. As Senator McCain mentioned in one of the recent debates, I don't care if you call them bananas, people still had to pay more money.

My disapproval of Romney wasn't about his positions - which, as Mike Huckabee said in one of the best lines of this campaign season, which ones? I never knew for what he stood, and feared above all else his pandering to the base that brought us eight years of George W. Bush - who, while better than his 2004 opponent, definitely could have been unseated within his own party if it were not for Rovian politics. Bush sold his soul to the bastards, and so probably would Romney. I smiled when I heard Rush Limbaugh proclaim that McCain would destroy the party, and jumped for joy when Ann Coulter said she would campaign for Hillary Clinton if it meant John McCain was the alternative. The opinions of those two alone are enough for any sane (liberal/moderate) Republican to plant a John McCain sign in his or her lawn.

One nice thing I do have to say about Romney, though, is that he finally showed a moment of genuineness today. He admitted, the business man he is, that it is time to cut his losses. He acknowledged that staying in a race that he had no chance of winning would forestall the inevitable McCain general election campaign and thus weaken it. Like a good business man, he sacrificed the interests of the CEO for the sake of the shareholders. Maybe if he had run as a moderate Republican with a weak social conservative record but strongly qualified to run an economy, instead of running as what he is not, he would have been addressing C-PAC as the presumptive nominee today. Instead he stood there as a cheerleader for America, hoping someone else can get the job done.

Friday Tidbits

It's official: The Mets are once again the team to beat in the National League. Vegas actually improved their odds of winning the World Series from 8-1 to 5-1, somewhere between the Red Sox and Yankees.

In other news, I watched the whole thing. I can't believe I watched the whole damn thing. What I was hoping would be a slugfest, ending with Obama pummeling Clinton with left hooks while Michelle and Chelsea tumbled down the stairs of the Kodak theater on top of each other, actually proved civil and even pretty inspirational. And fine, fine, I think an Obama/Clinton ticket would probably be pretty positive, but as Barack said, that combination is much different when flipped around.

The following, according to "Don Corleone" on the Imus in the Morning Program the other day, is the reason why his "godson" Rudy lost in the Sunshine State:

In Florida, there are too many old people. They take sides based on what they have heard last. Rudy speaks to them and they nod as they drool in their oatmeal. They swear their loyalty and respect and then as soon as he leaves their sight they turn to one another and say, "Who was that? Where am I? When is Bingo?" I thought I made them an offer they couldn't refuse, but instead it was an offer they couldn't remember.

And Then There Were Six

Yesterday, oh man, just a bittersweet day I guess. On the bright side, John Wayne McCain can kinda just take a nap until the Democrats figure out their situation. But, ahh, Rudy! I could go on for a while about how I felt after Florida, but I think Opera Man could sum it up best for me if he were to update his Concert for New York classic, 2008 style. Something felt lacking during the debate last night, and it would have been a nice touch if they hung up a picture of Giuliani behind the desk. Like you would do in your living room for a recently deceased relative.

As for John Edwards dropping out before Fight Night, well, he'll definitely be doing this evening's CNN's ratings a favor. If he stayed in, tonight would have been tantamount to Butterbean hanging out inside the ring during Ali vs. Frazier. I think the over/under for the first attack on Bill Clinton remark or that the next president should be ready "on Day One" is about two and a half minutes. But let's hope the newest chapter of Hilbama is a little more original.

This morning I heard on Fox News that some political rating agency lists Senator Obama as having the most liberal Senate voting record in 2007, with Clinton coming in at around sixteen or so. What struck me about this is that you will probably hear neither brag about such a statistic, while if any of the Republicans were rated the most conservative in his job, it would be his newest campaign slogan. And you know what? The impact on this race would have been ZILCH. The Republicans are under the baffling assumption that the eventual nominee must be whoever appeals the most to the party's "conservative base." If that were actually true, then Fred Thompson would be sitting very pretty right now. I don't claim to know actual statistics on this, but the proportion of true conservatives to all of those who actually vote in primaries is probably no more significant than any other group, and surely, there must be many "lefty" Republicans like me that don't believe in supply-side economics or burning gays.

Before I go, one comment about my news habits since some of you actually believe that Fox News is the Republican Al-Jazeera. From a pure news standpoint, Fox has no political bias. I just happen to think that Brit Hume and Shepherd Smith are much more tolerable than Wolf Blitzer. This bias assumption likely stems from the fact that FNC's highest rated programs lean right. Take Bill O'Reilly and Sean Hannity out of the equation (not to mention Hannity's liberal co-host Alan Colmes) and FNC is actually fair and balanced, with no conservative bias. Just like without Andersoon Cooper and Larry King, CNN would have no homoerotic or decrepitly incompetent bias.

Just a Thought

Because of some dirty players in the Clinton campaign and just plain blind ignorance of Islamo-phobes across the nation, Senator Obama should give a talk entitled, "I'm Not A Muslim, Not That There's Anything Wrong With That."

I mean, it worked for Mike Piazza, right?

Oompa Loompa, Doopity Dossum: Fred Is Now Gone, That's Totally Awesome

Man, do I love politics.

First off, I think my last post about whom I was endorsing was this blog taking itself too seriously. C'mon, who the hell do I think I am, the venerable Bob Schieffer? Now there's a man who could endorse a ham sandwich for president and make everyone say, "Wow, Boar's Head never looked so sensible until now."

Also, I'm faced with conceding here (for the very first time!) that the November victory speech will probably not contain the words, "If you thought running for president was hard, try living through 9/11! Oh, wait, right - I'm elected now, I can finally admit that the calendar has 364 other days."

Strangely, I'm not very upset over my man Rudy going down. He actually sort of deserves it, because I've been getting pissed off lately that he's commercialized that day to the point that Christmas looks sacred and private by comparison. Seriously, 'Dolph, I've been saying all along: All you had to do was hold up before and after charts at your stump speeches. New York City crime pre-Rudy, New York City crime post-Rudy. Choking deficit in the early 90s, golden surplus in time for the new millennium. You could have reminded them all of the well-known saying from before 9/11 - that being mayor of New York is the second hardest government job in the country. Call me next time you run for something man, although Rasmussen just informed me that the corpse of Richard Nixon leads you in the polls for dog catcher.

I'm now throwing my heft behind the Maverick, the War Hero, the Stud That Kissed All the Girls and Made Them Cry: Senator John Sidney McCain III. And I can't wait until the inevitable day that he takes an big old man dump on Glove Romney and sends him back to Michigan, or Massachusetts, or, uhh...wait, I think he just changed his position again on which state is best.

And don't tell me that 71 is too old to be elected president. Warren Buffet, 76, is still in complete command of the strongest company in our nation.

This just in: Last night's edition of WWE Monday Night Raw was eked out by CNN's Democratic Debate as the trashiest main event of the night. Seriously! The only trick that Hillary didn't pull was after one of Obama's retorts, raising her arm to emphasize a point and then wailing, "WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO PICK ON ME?!" As Mr. Imus said this morning, the Clintons would poison a municipal water system if it meant winning an election.

The odds in Vegas right now probably point towards a Clinton/McCain big dance in November. Call me crazy, but I have a dream scenario. Follow my math here. John McCain, while most of his support comes from the Republicans, is well-liked by many Democrats, right? Barack Obama, with his message of hope and unity, complimenting politicians on both sides of the aisle and looking like a refreshing break from the "politics of personal destruction" is building some cross-party appeal, right? Then what better way to get an Upper West Side writer and a Texas cattle rancher to join hands and sing Kumbaya than to put forth the perfect unity ticket. It would eliminate a lot of the divisions in our great nation, and, more importantly, put an everlasting boulder in the Clintons' craw.

Happy electioning, everybody.

P.S. McBama '08!

BARACKABEE

I'm going to try and do an update after each major campaign event.