While watching the Superbowl, my friend Rebecca and I discovered that what went came out of the TV speakers as
went into our ears as
December 13, 2009
Lesbian awarded Heisman Trophy!
December 4, 2009
Lessons from New Jersey.
Jokes about New Jersey (“What Exit?”), like jokes about Wisconsin (“Cheese & Beer & Snow“), are easy to come by.
I’ve spent my first two and past 12 years in Wisconsin, but my mother was raised in New Jersey, and I still return (not as often as I’d like) to visit my cousins and friends who live there. I’ve enjoyed a few summer weeks on the Jersey Shore, as well as on Wisconsin’s middle-coast cheddarized version thereof. Perhaps that’s why I want to point out one or two more deep connections between what appear on the surface to be culturally distant states. Or a third:
This week, the entire country had a chance to learn “The lessons of Jersey Shore“ (courtesy of Fourfour’s precision brand of hilaro-snark).
Next week, I hope New Jersey will teach us in Wisconsin one more lesson. New Jersey Peeps: Contact your legislators today!
There’s no harm in making fun of either state. But this time I hope New Jersey gets the last laugh.
Update (12/7/8) : via Joe. My. God. “Victory In New Jersey! Marriage Vote In Full Senate Slated For Thursday”
December 2, 2009
Vanilla.
I was angry when Ralston-Purina, focusing their energies on the chocolate chip flavor, stopped production of vanilla Cookie Crisp. I was nine years old. I wrote them a letter.
And so began my political activism, and relative indifference toward chocolate.
December 2, 2009
There’s nothing quite like a car running over your foot ….
There’s nothing quite like a car running over your foot to make the rest of your body feel lucky.
July 10, 2009
Two new old songs.
I’m beginning to suspect these two songs have something in common, other than that they both hold up well.
June 8, 2009
“The Two Ginsbergs”
This got me thinking of two things I learned from Allen Ginsberg, whom I briefly met 15 years ago after he read and sang to a large group at my alma mater:
(1) William Blake’s poems are meant to be sung. Ginsberg performed some of Blake’s “Songs of Innocence and Experience” with a slightly slobbery awkwardly energy I would never forget. (I had yet to hear these.)
April 6, 2009
Lyrics, Part 1 (Naive Melody)
Last night it happened again. It’s no suprise, really, since I’ve learned it’s always happening when I’m listening to music. Still, it’s a strange self-revelation when I’m forced to notice the extent to which I’m not listening to a song like the people around me are.
This time it was at the Crystal Corner, when The Talking Heads’ “This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)” started playing on the jukebox. I can’t take credit for dropping the dollars to make it play, but it really is the perfect jukebox selection. It’s sufficiently chill for the hipsters, but friendly enough not to drive anyone from the bar. It’s a gentle tune, perfect for sitting and tapping a coaster to the beat, while also easy to dance to.
April 4, 2009
Call off the Iowa Boycott
I’ve never been to Iowa. A couple of Bunnyblinks readers live there, and a few of my Madison friends are Hawkeyes (although they’re the sort of Hawkeyes who don’t generally identify with team mascots). That said, I realize that my never having been to Iowa might not be a big deal to many of you. It is.
I’ll admit I’ve always been attracted to the state. Maybe it’s Harkin. Maybe it’s that I’m a political junkie. As a kid, I remember admiring its eastern bump — the one Dubuque sits atop, shaped by the Mississippi River on Iowa’s border. But to this day, I’ve never set foot there. Why?
It was a matter of pride. The fact that one of the five United States I haven’t been to borders Wisconsin should tell you something about the extent of my grudge, which began when I was a kid. (I think I’d only been to, say, 27 states at the time the seeds of this grudge were planted). My parents loved subjecting us to road trips, which I’m sure I’ll finally be grateful for in three more years or so. On one trip (not, obviously, to Iowa), Mom was passing the time with one of her well-worn routines, slowly naming and counting each of the states she, Dad, my sister, and I had been to. She never lost count, nor did she ever seem to mind that we weren’t paying attention until, toward list’s end, she would invariably point out that my sister and I would’ve been tied at 27, but — gasp! — she’d been to Iowa and I hadn’t. Sure, she was only a baby at the time, riding behind Mom and Dad on the green Plymouth back-seat floor in those old-timey pre-car-seat days. I didn’t care.
At least that’s what I convinced myself. Today, I live some 80 miles from Iowa, as I have for over a decade, but that hasn’t broken my decades-long streak of expending lots of energy not caring that I haven’t been there (although most of this energy, I’ll admit, has been channeled into no more than a few dramatic moments). Once I even drove to the river, waved across in the general direction of Iowa’s bump at any Iowan who might see me, only to turn the car around and head home. True story.
When I read yesterday’s news, I knew it was time to call off the boycott. I’ll admit, Iowa was never all that bad. Still, it’s high time for a road trip. It’s the least I can do. No hard feelings?
April 2, 2009
Respectfully, Mr. President
If the internet is a race, I certainly won’t win this one. But remember this? (If you don’t, maybe there’s a little more to Obama’s gentle jibe than I’m prepared to admit. )
All kidding aside — which, as Ta-Nehisi Coates points out, isn’t a bad strategy when discussing this topic – I’m generally with Sullivan on this one:
The chuckle suggests a man of his generation. The dismissiveness toward the question of ending Prohibition as both a good in itself and a form of tax revenue is, however, depressing. His answer was a non-answer. I’m tired of having the Prohibition issue treated as if it’s trivial or a joke. It is neither. It is about freedom and it’s deadly serious. As for your online audience, Mr president, have you forgotten who got you elected?
In Obama’s defense, I get that he’s navigating tricky political waters here. Were he to take a strong, rational stance against the violence promoted by the drug war, the knee-jerk response of Americans his generation and older would likely reduce his political capital, making it more difficult to bring about change on other important issues.
But there’s no two ways about it. His dismissive response was insulting not only to the people who demanded he answer the question, but to the people for whom a more serious answer is most pressing. I thought we were done with the teasing style of W (who referred to reporters by insulting nicknames) and the taunts of W’s daddy (my grudge against whom I only recently let go of, nearly 17 years after he tried to win election by calling us “spotted-owl people”).
Obviously, not everyone agrees with me on this one — if they did, the violence of the so-called “War on Drugs” would be history. It’s just that Obama’s star shines brightest when he brings us together, when he shows respect in the face of dissent. Please, Obama, don’t fan the flames of the dying culture war. Don’t slip now.
As I said a year ago after reading Obama’s interview in The Advocate:
Obama teaches us to speak to each other in a way that makes it no longer necessary to make that first look around the room to see who’s listening. The respect that Obama has learned to show people who disagree with him on an issue has the welcome affect of lowering the temperature in our political debates, which is why Obama draws the support of many reasonable people who don’t agree with him on every issue.
Would you care to rephrase your answer, Mr. President?
