Arg. Piss. Dammit.
We listened to the debate via streaming audio/video. I really wanted to be there. But I was not. I was in my home - gathered around the computer since we don't have cable. I so miss the time in my life where I actually contributed, rather than yelling from the sidelines. Alas...tonight was not a victory for The Mountains. I really feel that Don Blankcheck is an easy mark. He is not well spoken and he is a moving target for deceit, abuse and corruption. Did Bobby knock it out of the park? No he did not, fans. He gave impassioned debate that fell short and sounded more like Al Gore rhetoric than a Kennedy-worthy event.
I just want to stew in it. My anger. My disappointment. It could have been so easy to relate to West Virginians. But, once you correct ole Don's speech patterns - you get more folk on his side. Bad call, Bobby. You should have left that misspeak chuckle to the 10 people in the auditorium that caught it!
For now, the bits of sound bytes will be torn a part and dissected. I'm hoping that a few good clips raise some awareness and consciousnesses. If not, we are no worse than we were before.
Certainly no better off.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Am I offended? Outraged? Suddenly Afraid? Shall I vow to never drink Gatorade again?
(he is a black man, he looks angry, he is wearing a black toboggan)
No I am not. I am delighted. I am having a hard time not wanting to sing BOTH of their praises - him for being that smokin' hot and Annie for being so damned talented as to be given access to the amazing faces she has photographed these past 30 years.
Thank you Annie. Since Tiger Woods first came upon the media scene I have wondered why I never was able to catch a glimpse of him without a shirt. I get to see photos of Matthew McConihotty running in Santa Barbara ALL the time! Tiger is physically attractive. He is fit. And, dare I say it: this is what a world class athlete's body looks like. And, lifting weights is what this athlete must do to stay at the top of his game. Let's face it...he is easy on the eyes and easy to think of as "one of the guys". You would drink a beer with Tiger - if he would drink one with you. And it would be a Coors Light. That is part of his appeal. Has he groomed his media persona so expertly that every racist in Georgia and South Carolina, who would rather spit on than speak to a black neighbor, wears their Nike TW golf gear with pride. It is amazing. He's OK; he's Tiger Woods.
Should I care if my favorite golfer cheats on his wife or has some penchant for young, slinky women? Sex addiction? Narcissistic? Should I care if my favorite late-nite talk show host slept around with his ever-so-willing staff (admit it, he has a quality)? Should I care of my President gets a bj in the Oval Office? Well, now you may have crossed the line - take it to The Comfort Suites like the rest of us. In reality, it seems that rather that watch our media darlings or hero's do good and set solid and inspiring examples, we prefer to laugh as they fall from grace. We feast on TMZ, Perez Hilton, and E! Online until we sit bloated, full of our own self worth and superiority.
I ain't perfect, I do it too. This year, I am going to try to be a little less quick to be secretly pleased that certain famous folk I admire have cracks and flaws. If Tiger Woods walked down Lancaster Avenue and needed directions to Capitol City Gold (locals will get that), I'd plug it into his smart phone for him, grab a Gatorade out of my fridge, a Sharpie, and ask him to autograph the drink and my new issue of Vanity Fair. Then, I would try like hell to get him to take off his shirt!