Bryan Adams Blog

Dear Bryan.....

Help is on the way. Did you like that? Does it ring true for you? Or at least rattle around in your brain like the words to an old song? You made some really great points yesterday, but, you see, I'd already written that speech. But, I think I really did address a lot of your concerns. Really.

The "War on Terror": I think we're on the same page here. I promised not to evade or equivocate, and not to go to war without cold, hard facts. As a scientist in the digital age, I'm sure you can appreciate that approach. Ok, I guess I did stick with the "War on Terror" instead of the "War on Al Queda" moniker, but hey, sometimes you have to meet people where they are before you can lead them where you want them to go. You know?

Iraq: I know what we have to do in Iraq. Sort of. Look, it's messed up now. I didn't start it, and I wouldn't have started it. And...it's complicated. Besides, anything I suggest, our current president just adopts as his own policy, so I gotta be careful with the specifics. But, I do know that the 'go it alone' approach continues to backfire, and I'm at least going to get a lot more allied support for a solution. You will note, though, that I'm totally with you on the treatment of our soldiers.

Taxes: We won't raise taxes on the middle class. Sorry, buddy, but the middle class is my breadbasket. Them, I gotta protect. The real rich folks have pretty much deserted the Dems, so I gotta dance with who's at the party. Know what I mean? Besides, once you graduate, which has gotta be soon now, right? why, you'll be pulling down the really big bucks, and I figure you'll be throwing in a little extra to help us all out when you file your 1040. At least the $3 to the presidential election fund, right? I think I'm with you, too, on HOW we should spend the tax money. Health care, education -- I'm right with you. And did you catch the stuff about American innovation? America can do better. That's where folks like you come in. Ever thought about a job with the government?

Stuff to Get Excited About: Yeah, well, excitement's not exactly my middle name. Another thing you should know about me, though, is that I like to make sure we've got the basics down pat before we go gettin' all fancy pants. I think getting the mess in Iraq cleaned up, some more jobs, and some broader health care coverage will make people pretty happy. And, I totally go along with your ideas about improving the military. I even mentioned a few that you did. And did you hear the contents of a library on a chip the size of your fingernail part? You know about that, right? And, What if we find a breakthrough to cure Parkinson's, diabetes, Alzheimers, and AIDS? I could go for that. And I know you've got a lot of smart friends who are interested in stuff like that. Doesn't that get you excited? The reality-show debate thing...that's something I'll talk to my vice-president about...if I win, of course. Promise.

The Living Dead thing: I try. I really do. I was trying so hard last night I broke out in a sweat. I gestured. I projected my voice. (But I hope you aren't too upset about the few little "misspeaks". Like when I said "hair pollution" instead of "air pollution." Seriously, I just wanted to be sure "The Daily Show" had a few excerpts they could show. I'm that kinda guy.) But, in the end, I am who I am, and I'm ok with that. Hey, Teresa loves me, my kids love me, my old Army buddies love me, heck, even my old opponents love me. I hope I'm good enough for you, buddy, because I'm counting on your vote.

America Can Do Better. Help Is On The Way.
John

Five Unsolicited Ideas For John Kerry's Speech

1. Change the "War on Terror" to the "War on Al Qaeda."

• I know you want to stay positive, but you should point out that the current President has no idea how to defend the country. If he'd been in office in 1941 when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, he would have declared a "War on Sneak Attacks" and then invaded China in 1943.
  
• Point out that "terror" is not something against which you can wage war, and, consequently, it's not a war we can win. Promise that you'll never scare the nation with terror alerts that provide no evidence, no guidance, and no plan. Make securing American nuclear and chemical plants the #1 priority for the first 100 days of your administration.
  
• Declare war on Al Qaeda. Point out that these are the bastards who killed 3000 people in New York on 9/11. Promise to spare no expense in capturing Osama Bin Laden, and then promise to put him on trial in front of the world. Speak directly to any terrorist group that is operating under the name Al Qaeda, and tell them that you will find them and you will kill them. Don't spare the red meat in this section
  

2. Tell us how we're going to get out of Iraq.

• I think it's safe to say that we went to war over a mistake. We thought there were WMDs and an immanent threat, and we were wrong. Quote yourself by promising that you will not ask any young man or woman to be the last one to die for a mistake.
  
• Align yourself with the troops in the field. Tell them that you were in their boots, and that you will do everything in your power to make their sacrifices worth it. Tell them that you will bring them home as soon as you possibly can.
  
• Go further and say that you're going to end our nations disgraceful treatment of our veterans. Express your disgust that we have veterans who are homeless due to injuries they suffered in battle. Tell every veteran, from Iraq to WWII, that your presidency will be one that honors their service not just with words, but with deeds.
  

3. Make your progressive tax plan sound patriotic.

• Don't cave in here to the pressure to demonize the rich. First, you are rich. Second, your wife is hella-rich. Third, rich people aren't bad, and fourth, nobody hates the rich (even the poor).
  
• Because you're asking them to pay more in taxes, say nice things about the rich. Thank them for their success (a joke about thanking your wife for putting ketchup on the table), and thank the many rich folks who've personally offered to pay more in taxes to help the nation succeed. These people pay more than their fair share, and they should be recognized for it.
  
• Point out that spending tax dollars on things like education, research, and infrastructure is sewing the seeds for the next generation of Americans, including the next Bill Gates. Lie to us, and tell us that any of us could be the next billionaire.
  

4. Give us some stuff to feel excited about.

• Tell us that part of defending our country is showing the world why we're a force for good. Describe a new military special forces unit designed for peacekeeping. They will receive full military training, but they'll specialize in a post-war environment. They'll be experts in organizing citizens against guerrillas, rebuilding primitive or damaged infrastructure, and jump-starting local economies. They will be experts in creating order and peace where there is chaos and strife. Tell us that we have to be able to do something about places like the Dafur region in the Sudan, and this is what we're going to do.
  
• Go crazy and tell us that we can solve both the obesity and fossil-fuel-dependence problems by committing to building a new national sidewalk infrastructure. Offer tax incentives to people who walk or ride a bike to work.
  
• Tell us that you value dialog and discussion so much, both you and John Edwards will have a thirty minute debate, twice a year, with a regular citizen. Challenge the television networks to come up with a reality show that selects the winner, and you'll appear on the finale.
  

5. And, for Christ's sake, stop talking like you're auditioning for an extra role in Night of The Living Dead.

Let's Not Get Carried Away With The Friggin' Optimism

First, I thought Barak Obama's speech was gangbusters -- even better than Clinton's speech. In particular, I love his manifesto about what it means to be a liberal.

[W]e are connected as one people. If there's a child on the south side of Chicago who can't read, that matters to me, even if it's not my child. If there's a senior citizen somewhere who can't pay for her prescription and has to choose between medicine and the rent, that makes my life poorer, even if it's not my grandmother. If there's an Arab American family being rounded up without benefit of an attorney or due process, that threatens my civil liberties. It's that fundamental belief -- I am my brother's keeper, I am my sisters' keeper -- that makes this country work. It's what allows us to pursue our individual dreams, yet still come together as a single American family. "E pluribus unum." Out of many, one.

Yes. Absolutely. But then, immediately after, he comes off the tracks.

Yet even as we speak, there are those who are preparing to divide us, the spin masters and negative ad peddlers who embrace the politics of anything goes. Well, I say to them tonight, there's not a liberal America and a conservative America -- there's the United States of America. There's not a black America and white America and Latino America and Asian America; there's the United States of America. The pundits like to slice-and-dice our country into Red States and Blue States; Red States for Republicans, Blue States for Democrats. But I've got news for them, too. We worship an awesome God in the Blue States, and we don't like federal agents poking around our libraries in the Red States. We coach Little League in the Blue States and have gay friends in the Red States. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq and patriots who supported it. We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America.

No. It's a nice thought, but it's not true. Open up any survey and you'll can see the facts.

A quarter of us who live in the East don't believe in God (compared with 18% in the Midwest and South), and less than a third of us go to church (compared with 45% in the Midwest and 40% in the South).

Moreover, 58% of Americans in the South have an unfavorable opinion about homosexuals, compared with 41% in the East. And while 42% of us favor gay marriage in the East, only 23% favor it in the South.

I could go on, but I won't.

Look, I think it's a good strategic move by the Democrats to stay positive and optimistic. And I hope the Republicans will follow suit. But there's a point where optimism crosses over into delusion. While it would be nice to think that we are one nation when it comes to religion, we're not. And while it would be nice to think that we are one nation when it comes to our opinions on homosexuality, we're not. And while it would be nice to think that we all care about other people, we don't.

What we do care about is sex. Specifically, who may be having it, and with whom, and how we don't like that. A man having sex with another man? Bad. People having sex and then wanting an abortion? Bad. Poor teenagers having sex and then having kids? Bad. At the end of the day, these concerns are more important to a great many people than, say, making sure that every kid in Chicago can read. Or that the elderly can afford their medication. Or our civil liberties. Right now, for many people, genital geography is more important than the collective welfare.

And, while it's probably "pessimistic" to say so, until that changes, we're stuck with the bullshit society we have. Until you can convince poor, white, and yes, frequently Southern families to vote against the Republicans who oppose these kinds of programs, you're going to continue to to have illiteracy, heat-or-food poverty, and the PATRIOT act. It sucks, but it's a fact.

Anyway, I liked the speech, and I really like Barak Obama. But let's not sprain a shoulder patting ourselves on the back for our beliefs.

Crazy Bill

Not sure if you've seen Outfoxed yet, but watch this clip (thanks to Larry Lessig) about Bill O'Reilly and Jeremy Glick. Seriously, what happened to O'Reilly as a child to make him the way he is?

All I Have To Say Is

I can see why Clinton gets so much tail. After that speech, hell, I'd sleep with him.

Dear John,

I love you, and I will vote for you for President. But don't start this shit.

You decided to make a last-minute stop in Boston for the Sox-Yanks game tonight. Good move. And you agreed to be interviewed on ESPN during the game. Also a good move. But when you were asked about the Game Seven Apocalypse last year, you mentioned that you were very angry at the outcome, and that you were "throwing things at the television."

Look, I'm prepared to believe just about anything you say this week, but there is no way that you threw anything at the TV. First of all, if you had thrown something, you would have said "I threw my X" instead of "I was throwing things." Like, "I threw my remote at the TV and I broke it," or "I was so mad I threw my Budweiser can at the set," or (more likely for you) "I was so incensed at the poor managerial skills of Mr. Little, I was compelled to launch a spring-headed figurine in the direction of the television, delivering quite a blow!" But when you say, "I was throwing things," you might as well just go ahead and add, "just like I read that all the normal people did."

But second, you didn't throw anything at the TV because that's just not you. You went to Yale. You're a senator. Your wife is a billionaire. And you are, not to put too fine a point on it, a humongous nerd. You don't care that much about sports, and that's ok. And I think it's ok with most people. But when you start to pretend like you do care about sports because you think it's what we want to hear, well, that just makes us -- all of us, even those of us who love you -- wretch.

I know this whole DNC thing is turning into a heaping steamer, but let's not make it worse with the "I'm-just-a-regular-guy" routine. We just had a regular guy as President, and it sucked. We're looking for something different. Try to be that something different.

Don't go all bullshit on me now,

--Bryan

The DNC Comes To Town

... and that's when the whores come in.

Can You Ever Really,...Really, Really Ever Know Someone?

[Ed. note: Due to impending travel, MomBlog comes to you a day early this week.]

I have a good friend Kevin who tells me you can never really know another person. He doesn't say this cynically, but rather with a calm acceptance that most people aren't really who you think they are. Kevin's had experience with this. But, this is disturbing to me, because I like to have some level of confidence that I really know what I think I know.

But, I work in a business that is all about finding out and proving things. And all too frequently, we're able to prove that people aren't exactly honest. One of the toughest times involved a man we'd known for some time who literally dropped dead from a heart attack. He was a terrific guy, loyal friend, well-respected father of two, husband of nearly 31 years. After he died, clear evidence came to light that he had a mistress. Yeah, yeah, I know you think this is no big deal; this kind of thing happens all the time. But, in my lifetime, this was only the second time I actually "knew" someone was cheating on his spouse. You could have knocked me over with a feather. His wife is a delightful, attractive, fun-loving person. On her 50th birthday, he threw a wonderful party for her and you would never, ever have thought they weren't a faithful couple. In fact, in my memories of him, I usually leave that part out, because I like remembering him the way I thought I knew him.

But, in some sense, does his infidelity actually change who he was as a person? Should I look back at all the terrific things he did through the filter of that infidelity? In some sense, it humanizes him and makes me wonder what he needed from that other woman that his wife didn't give him. In another sense, it just makes me sad.

When I see and hear political ads throughout this interminable election season (though mercifully, through the wonders of TIVO, I'm spared having to see most of them), I think of my friend Kevin. If we can't really know the people we actually have day-to-day contact with, how can we be expected to "know" our public figures in any real sense? Bill Clinton was a classic case, and we could debate for a long time whether we really had a right to be looking that deeply into his personal life. But, nonetheless, I say politicians are wasting their time trying to portray their 'character' or 'values.' If we can't really know the people we actually live with, how can we possibly really know anyone else?

Redacted Rant About Work

It never ceases to amaze me how XXXXXXXXXXX and XXXXXX people in XXXXXXXXX XX XXXXXXXXXX can be. I mean, if you want XXXXXX XX XXXX XXX with a XXXXXXXXXXXX, then you probably shouldn't XXX XXXX XX XX XXXXXXX XXX XXX and then XXX XXXX XX XX XXX XXXXXXXXXXXX. Seriously, one of the fundamental courtesies of life in the modern age is to XXXXXXX XXXX XXX XXXXX XXXX XX XXXX XX XXX. I mean, if XXXXXX XXX XXXXX XX XXXX XX, then why even XXX XXX XX? Jesus Christ!

And while we're at it, is there any truer statement in the world than, "X XXXXXX XXXXX XX XXX XXXXX XX XXX XX XXX XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX"? Right now, if I XXXX XXXXXX XX XXX XXXXXX XXX XXX XX XXXXXXXX, I can see that XXXXX XXX XX XXXX XX XXXXXXXXX XX XXX XX XXX XXX, at least in part because XX XX XXX XXX XX XXX XXXXX XXX XX XXX XX XXXX XXX XXXX XXXX XXXXXX X XXX XXX. That's right, a XXX XXX. It's time someone came out and said it like it was.

I'm telling you, if this situation doesn't improve, I'm going to go apeshit on someone's motherXXXXing ass.

Dear Conventional Wisdom,

You don't like "partisan politics." You don't like "governmental gridlock." But you also don't like that John Kerry is a "flip-flopper," or that he "takes both sides of an issue."

So, what, the men and women in Congress should work out their disagreements without anyone changing his or her mind?

Please try to consist of views that are a little less contradictory.

Thanks,

--Bryan

AAAARRRGGGHHH......

I am so freaking sick of people in positions of authority who have no clue about what they're doing, I'm ready to scream.

From the President on down, this country has a whole bunch of bureaucrats who revel in making things illogically difficult. There is no such thing as simple when you're dealing with anything associated with a governmental entity.

Case in point:
We represent a 72-year-old woman who works for the most-popular-but-awful-to-their-employees company in America (okay, it's WalMart). This woman lost her husband of fifty years in 2002, and so took a part-time job with WalMart to help her get over her loss. In January this year, she was on a ladder retrieving some merchandise. She lost her balance and fell, striking her head on the ladder on the way down. She was immediately nauseous, but didn't seek medical attention because, well, she's 72, and folks of that generation tend to want to tough things out. Overnight her nausea worsened, and she felt she needed to go to the hospital. She called her supervisor at WalMart, who told her she had to come in to the store first before going to the emergency room. She is diagnosed with a concussion, and the doctors at the WalMart-sponsored health facility release her to work light duty. They ask her to be a greeter, but she says, "I feel so badly I don't want to answer my own door, let alone put on a happy face for customers." Months pass and she feels no better. Eventually, she has a test which reveals she has compression fractures of two vertebrae. Her age makes her a poor candidate for any surgical intervention to stabilize the vertebrae, so her new doctor wants her off work while he tries some conservative therapies. WalMart has declined to pay her lost wages. They think maybe this is related to a fall she had back in 1996 when she slipped on a wet floor in a grocery store and hurt her shoulder. Yeah, right.

Now for the really ridiculous part: she needs to attend an administrative hearing to determine whether she should be compensated while she's off recovering from this injury. (For anyone unfamiliar with the workers' compensation system, this is a total no-brainer. WalMart is just fighting this because they fight every workers' compensation claim). So, in a stroke of brilliance, the Bureau of Workers' Compensation set her hearing at their facility 60 miles from her home. This, despite the fact that she lives 28 miles from another office. We requested that the BWC move the hearing closer to her home, since, actually, there's a specific rule that says the hearing should be scheduled at the office closest to the claimant's home. You know, WalMart is everywhere, so it's no big deal for them to appear at any of the state's offices. But our client, a 72-year-old woman with a fractured neck, should drive twice as far as necessary to get benefits that are rightfully hers. Sure, makes sense, in a governmental kind of way.

You'd think someone would recognize the oversight and change her hearing to the closer office. Yeah, well, this is where idiot government stupidity comes in. When we asked the person-in-charge to do this, she told us we needed to get WalMart's permission to move the hearing. Now, think about this for a minute. The very entity that wants to deny this woman her lost wages should be asked for their agreement to make it more convenient for her to argue for them? Um, yeah. Right. In addition to being ridiculous, this is flat out wrong.

After several phone calls, involving the person-in-charge checking with a higher 'authority,' it was confirmed that, in fact, the rule requires the hearing to be set at the office closest to the claimant's home. So, her hearing will be changed.

But, you see, absent our client being represented by someone who actually knows the rules, she's stuck travelling over an hour, with a broken neck, to get her lost wages while she recovers. And we all know how well women at WalMart are paid. Yeah, right.

It's a great country we have here, but sometimes I think we need a metaphorical epic flood to get rid of the occupants of every government office, so that they can all be replaced with people who actually think. (Disclaimer - if any of you work for a governmental entity, I mean no disrespect, since by merely reading this blog, you qualify for a spot on the ark).

Why You Gotta Go 'N' Make Things So Complicated?

That Avril: so precocious. Her 'complicated' song, in its chorus, expressed one of the deepest and most confusing parts of love. Why does the omnipresent second person have to go 'n' make things so complicated? (Hint: the answer is not in her follow-up single, 'Sk8r Boi'.)

Sonia is leaving today, after almost two full weeks here in Boston. This is probably the longest period of time we've ever spent in each others' continuous company, and it's been nothing short of a deeply educational experience. In this particular case, our time together has been greatly amplified by the fact that my place is really, really small. I'd call it a "studio" if it weren't just a room in the basement of a fraternity. So, not to put to fine a point on it, we've been living with each others' farts and armpits for now almost 14 consecutive days without so much as a bedroom into which one might retreat for a moment of sanity.

Not that it's been bad -- on the contrary, it's been great to see so much of her. And, really, I'm the luckiest guy out there. Sonia is absolutely wonderful and beautiful and easy to get along with. And when she smiles at me, my chest gets all tight, like I've suddenly put on a size 32 suit jacket. In fact, I love her so much that I feel free to admit that I frequently want to choke the living shit out of her.

In fact, just yesterday, she picked me up from work because it was raining, and when I got in the car, she told me she wanted to drive up to Porter Square to get some burritos from Anna's Taqueria. Now, I don't particularly care for Anna's because their employees are basically the Burrito Nazis -- you have to know what to say and when to say it and they get all pissed if you screw it up. But, you know, Sonia wanted burritos, and even though I live literally two minutes from a perfectly reasonable burrito joint, I was willing to go along.

Unfortunately, Sonia picking me up meant that she was driving, and I've already said enough about how this woman drives. Let's just say that Mr. Rogers would be a quivering, snippy little bitch after driving up Mass Ave with Sonia. I mean, I don't know if she even knows where the turn signal lever is, let alone the circumstances under which it's advisable to use it. And if you don't know where you're going, WHY NOT JUST ASK ME instead of having to make a kamikaze-style lane change at the last minute to avoid taking a right turn that is, no offense, almost 180 degrees from being the right direction. And, sweet Jesus, the parking -- I'm honestly having little seizures right now as I recall how close we were to doing serious fender damage to three different cars.

Ok, now I've said enough.

So, you know, I wasn't exactly Mr. Smiley when we arrived. And when we walked in and saw that the place was teeming with with people, all writhing against each other like maggots on a rat carcass, all trying to get these burritos that are only available at about fourteen million other places that don't require borderline vehicular suicide or a mosh pit, I became Mr. Smiley's arch enemy, Mr. Smallmouth-Crabbypants.

Unfortunately, one of the pathologies in my relationship with Sonia is that, when I'm cross, she recognizes this, tries to make it better, and always makes it worse. This was a classic case -- when we stopped at the door and regarded the teeming mass of maggot-people, she turned to me and said, "Do you want to just go back home?" which, after having gone through fucking hell and fucking high water for these fucking burritos, is just about the perfect thing to say if you want me to pull a mechanical pencil out of my backpack and jam it into my temple. So I shoved myself into the crowd, we got some burritos and chips, found an empty table (wobbly -- of course), and sat down face to face.

Ok! Let's have a conversation! How was your day honey?

So we ate in silence for the first half of the burritos. And while ruining the meal was fun for me, it wasn't quite enough to satisfy my emotional bloodlust. I had to do something else to express my irrational anger. Personally, I get a kick out of being petty and passive-aggressive, so I decided that the grown-up, adult way to address the problem was through eating more than my fair share of the chips and guacamole that we had gotten to share. Moreover, I know Sonia loves the guacamole, so I ate it as fast as I could in an incredibly mature and really appropriate effort to spite her.

So I'm wolfing down chips and guac like a crazed shop vac, feeling a little better with every spite-filled bite. And she didn't even fight back -- I was expecting her to try to get some chips before they were all gone, and then I would accidentally run my hand into her chip and get guacamole on my hand and that would give me something else to get pissed about. In fact, we didn't even make eye contact for a full five minutes. When I finally looked up, Sonia smiled and reached across the table to pinch my ear.

"Do you feel better now, Chiphog?"

And I laughed, and we finished eating, and we went to this oriental rug store that smelled really awful. And I remembered that I love Sonia so much that I would ride in a wheelbarrow to the Anna's Taqueria in Hell if it would make her smile.

Where Have You Gone, Bobby Richardson?

There may be those who wish to hear more--more promises to this group or that--more harsh rhetoric about the men in the Kremlin--more assurances of a golden future, where taxes are always low and subsidies ever high. But my promises are in the platform you have adopted--our ends will not be won by rhetoric and we can have faith in the future only if we have faith in ourselves.

-- John F. Kennedy, acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention, Los Angeles, July 15, 1960

It's amazing, to me, how the city of Boston is so large, and yet the world I live in is so small. In the days leading up to mom and dad's visit, I was trying to create a list of the things we could do, and it was surprising how little of it I had done myself. Go to work, go to the bar, sit in my room. Looking back, I probably saw more of the city during my freshman year in college, when everything seemed new and exciting, than I have in the last three years combined. I suppose a certain amount of geographic malaise is inevitable.

But visitors are helpful in renewing the spirit, and so I finally went to the JFK Library and Museum for the first time, despite the fact that it's only a 20-minute car ride away. It's a tall, dark building, dominated by a huge black atrium that looks out over the harbor. In many ways, it's a very typical museum: staffed by sleepy attendants and filled with obscure artifacts, it appeals largely to someone who already knows what he's looking at. If, like me, you weren't alive in the early 1960s, you're not going to be impressed with Caroline dolls, or Jackie's dress, or even JFK's sloop. Seeing these items laid out in glass cases evokes nothing for me but empty nostalgia.

Ah, but the television.

Much is made about the evils of television -- kids watch it too much, reality shows are stupid, Janet Jackson's tits are flopping about -- but, deep down, we all know that it's wonderful. JFK was the first President to be widely televised, and so you can get a sense of the man beyond seeing his rocking chair and desk. You can see him. His changing hairstyles. The way he grabbed the podium when he spoke. His habit of letting his previous thought interrupt his present remarks. His professorial air.

In fact, the effect is made even stronger by the fact that the television is typically how we get to know the President. You may read quotes from speeches or analysis of policies, but it's when his image is transmitted into your home that you get to know the man. In fact, my sense of every President I've known is essentially comprised of clips from television. When I think of Bush 41, I think of his gaunt frame. Bill Clinton's protruding lower lip. W's smirk. Although these mental bookmarks are superficial and probably false, these are my visceral connections to the men who hold the office.

These television-based connections make the recordings of JFK even more unnerving because you can re-create that same kind of relationship with him. Even though it's a little off -- the coloring is not quite right, and they hadn't yet figured out exactly how to mic him so that you get every nuance of his voice -- the effect is undeniable. Without much effort, you can imagine a 43-year-old JFK as a candidate for President this fall. And you couldn't help but consider what he'd be like as a contemporary politician.

That consideration is utterly heartbreaking. Perhaps it's because I've spent almost ten years in college and JFK was, in his heart, a professor. Perhaps it's because we're both economics-first liberals. And maybe I've acquired a predilection for that darn accent. But when I listen to him speak, particularly in that nomination acceptance speech, I am filled with sadness and disillusion. His words are polished and filled with love of language. He does not hide his education, and he doesn't hesitate to refer to people or ideas that are beyond cliche. And he is completely sincere. Listening to him talk for a very brief time gives you an eerie sense of intimacy, and you can easily see why so many people took his death very personally.

But, most of all, I absolutely love his values. I hate saying that because the word has become so perverted. In fact, the only thing I hate more than hearing a politician use the word "values" is hearing the word "mainstream" in connection with it. And yet, there's no other way for me to describe the way I feel when I read that acceptance speech. He loves America, not just because it's his home, but because he believes in the worth of the ideas of the founders. He believes in the fundamental value of every human life, and he wants the government to recognize and sustain that value as well. He knows that the path ahead will require work and sacrifice, but he also knows that the reward will ultimately outweigh the cost. He is excited and optimistic about the future, and he wants us all to share in those feelings.

Those feelings are utterly absent from the public sphere today. In fact, JFK seems to be speaking to an entirely different country. It seems unimaginable that it was only 44 years ago. I will vote for Kerry and Edwards, but I cast my internal lot with Kennedy.

I Left My Heart in Boston...

Thoughts on a most delightful visit to Boston:

- MIT's Stata Center is an impressive, if unconventional, building. I never thought I'd confuse inside with outside, but it happens in there.

- kudos to the Jillians bouncer who actually asked to see my ID before letting us in on Friday night.

- Dunkin Donuts coffee and breakfast sandwich - mmmmmmm. Starbucks (yeah, I know there's one on every corner) is even better. (They have a social conscience and employ my daughter this summer).

- uneven sidewalks in an unfamiliar city can be pretty treacherous.

- the 50th floor of the Prudential Center is an awesome place to watch the fireworks....if only they had chairs.

- the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame curator should talk to the JFK Museum curator. I lived through a lot of the events covered by both, but the JFK is much more effective and impressive.

- Sonia has really nice golf clubs, but they weren't dirty enough. I took care of that for her while she studied for her upcoming licensing exam. Thanks, Soners.

- anyone who thinks Fenway Park should be torn down needs to take the inside tour.

- if you want to go out for dinner with a group of friends, and you feel like picking up the check for everybody, go to Anthony's Pier 4. They won't do separate checks there. Who doesn't enjoy that divide-up-the-check awkwardness, especially with people you barely know?

- Bryan should never shop for clothes alone.

- Bryan and Sonia are great hosts. You all should really visit them sometime. I'm already making plans to go back.

(Insert Barry Manilow Song Here)

Mom and dad are in town for a few more days, so please continue listening to the hold music of your choice.

They're On The Attack!

Yes, I'm posting another graph, yes, I'm a nerd, yes yes yes. But look at my comment spam denials over the last month:

(PS: Happy Birthday, America!)

The Stuff of Life

Why, oh why, is the foundation of our economy the production of "stuff?" Food-stuff, energy-stuff, clothes-stuff, entertainment-stuff, transportation-stuff, exercise-stuff...the list is endless. I have more stuff than I'll ever need, and I'm constantly distracted by marketing ploys trying to convince me I want more. Sometimes I fall for them, and then I get mad because I have more stuff than I know what to do with. Since our society is so advanced, why can't we let the people in other countries who really need stuff take over the production and consumption of it? Shouldn't our economy be stimulated by some wonderful intangible like friendliness, or charity? Or even civility? Why does it have to be "stuff?" It bothers me that people get injured or contract some kind of disease producing stuff that maybe isn't really necessary for our existence.

Plus, stuff is much more of a commitment than you realize when you first get it. Sure, it's fun when it's new. But then...you have to find a place to keep it. You have to clean or otherwise maintain it. Sometimes you have to insure it. You usually have to get it fixed - sometimes more than once. People want to borrow it. Then, it wears out. If you're at all sentimental, you have trouble getting rid of it. You might just stash it somewhere for awhile, and then it moves from the "stuff" category to "junk" status. This is a huge complication for some people, because they have to deal with both their stuff and their junk.

What if you could earn some pretty decent smack just by being really nice to other people? The more polite and civil you were, the more money you'd make. Dick Cheney would be out of a job in a heartbeat.

While We're On The Subject.....

[from mom]

You really need to go see Spiderman 2. First, Bryan could have consulted on that movie, what with not one, but 4 robotic arms on that villain. Things go a little haywire with those artificial arms, which, if you read Bryan regularly you can understand. He needs to see that movie, if only so that he pays much more attention to the bugs in that INHIBITOR CHIP! (and takes the weight of world off his shoulders).