Michelle finally has her name up in lights. All America gazes at the marquee. "Bachman Rebuts!"
Meanwhile, Sarah reloads.
It's an American Idol spinoff. Swimsuit and complexion judges will be required to award the relatively elderly Mrs. Bachman an eight-year seniority handicap.
It's going to be a strange primary season.
Jan 25, 2011
Jan 24, 2011
Tomorrow evening's forecast
Windy with a 90 per cent chance of dingleberries.
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If anyone can recall a State of the Union Address which had the slightest effect on the way in which we permit The Regulators to misgovern us, I should be glad to hear about it.
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If anyone can recall a State of the Union Address which had the slightest effect on the way in which we permit The Regulators to misgovern us, I should be glad to hear about it.
Jan 23, 2011
That's where the tall corn grows
One of the nice things about Iowans is that we're quite a little holier than others, especially in keeping our boot on the neck of the rum demon.
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My first "important" by-line beat was covering the Iowa Senate. Like a good little journalist I was religious about getting to know all the senators, often over a beer at one of the lounges handy to the Capitol.
But not with one of them, a wizened little old Republican who always carried a Bible. We met in the cafeteria where I had coffee -- a drink he found suspect but tolerable for reporters, a notably pagan bunch, anyway. He sipped juice while I posed the usual questions-- main issues this session, his personal take on legislating, his political plans, and so forth.
It occurred that his senior priority was saving his fellow legislators from the evils of drink. Only then could they, without hypocrisy, begin bunging kegs and smashing bottles, dumping the whole alcoholic shebang into one of our deep rivers.
"Why," he said, "Jim, do you know that some of these fellows drink beer at lunch and then come back and vote on bills?"
I suppose I replied something like, "Do tell?" and stifled the impulse to note that I'd never seen much difference between a soused politician and a sober one.
He made a lot of floor speeches on the subject and didn't have many Capitol Hill friends. I lost track of him when I went east to cover other politicians, many of them also reliably tipsy, often entertainingly so.
When ever I thought of him I assumed he just was a final throwback to the Hoover days when the Methodists, Missouri Synoders, and the Farm Bureau unquestionably ran things around here. Silly me.
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Fast forward to 2011 and the latest from The Golden Dome down in Des Moines.
Democrat State Senator Brian Schoenjahn (D-Arlington) has introduced a bill that would make mixing any alcohol with caffeine a criminal offense. Simple possession of such drinks would land a person in jail for 30 days and bartenders who mix caffeinated cocktails would cost their employers their liquor licenses permanently.
It's about time. Who knows what sin is generated by that splash of Kahlua in your after-dinner coffee. And as everyone knows, it is the Tullamore Dew in a cup of Folgers which is responsible for the downfall of the Celtic race.
I don't intend to turn the TMR into an "Iowa" blog, but this one looks like fun, and I'll try to remember to report its progress. Meanwhile, I simply bask in the purity of thought surrounding me.
.
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My first "important" by-line beat was covering the Iowa Senate. Like a good little journalist I was religious about getting to know all the senators, often over a beer at one of the lounges handy to the Capitol.
But not with one of them, a wizened little old Republican who always carried a Bible. We met in the cafeteria where I had coffee -- a drink he found suspect but tolerable for reporters, a notably pagan bunch, anyway. He sipped juice while I posed the usual questions-- main issues this session, his personal take on legislating, his political plans, and so forth.
It occurred that his senior priority was saving his fellow legislators from the evils of drink. Only then could they, without hypocrisy, begin bunging kegs and smashing bottles, dumping the whole alcoholic shebang into one of our deep rivers.
"Why," he said, "Jim, do you know that some of these fellows drink beer at lunch and then come back and vote on bills?"
I suppose I replied something like, "Do tell?" and stifled the impulse to note that I'd never seen much difference between a soused politician and a sober one.
He made a lot of floor speeches on the subject and didn't have many Capitol Hill friends. I lost track of him when I went east to cover other politicians, many of them also reliably tipsy, often entertainingly so.
When ever I thought of him I assumed he just was a final throwback to the Hoover days when the Methodists, Missouri Synoders, and the Farm Bureau unquestionably ran things around here. Silly me.
---
Fast forward to 2011 and the latest from The Golden Dome down in Des Moines.
Democrat State Senator Brian Schoenjahn (D-Arlington) has introduced a bill that would make mixing any alcohol with caffeine a criminal offense. Simple possession of such drinks would land a person in jail for 30 days and bartenders who mix caffeinated cocktails would cost their employers their liquor licenses permanently.
It's about time. Who knows what sin is generated by that splash of Kahlua in your after-dinner coffee. And as everyone knows, it is the Tullamore Dew in a cup of Folgers which is responsible for the downfall of the Celtic race.
I don't intend to turn the TMR into an "Iowa" blog, but this one looks like fun, and I'll try to remember to report its progress. Meanwhile, I simply bask in the purity of thought surrounding me.
.
Just missed it
It takes a temperature of 20 below to trigger the B&B rule in this area. When invoked, B&B grants license to Bitch and Brag, that is, to bitch about the cold and brag about how comfortably you are surviving it because you're, like, real smart.
Officially, it's -19 the airport right now. Unofficially it's -17 at the homestead. So b'ing and/or b'ing would be wimpish.
Nevertheless, I am instructing the butler to add another log.
Officially, it's -19 the airport right now. Unofficially it's -17 at the homestead. So b'ing and/or b'ing would be wimpish.
Nevertheless, I am instructing the butler to add another log.
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