the angry blogger, part 3

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[part 2 to come--sorry, i'm feeling a little tarantino-ish.]

you know that old, hackneyed serenity prayer the alkies cling to--the one that importunes god for the ability to accept that which one can't change, the balls to change that which is in one's power to effect, and the smarts to know which is which?

well, if i were suddenly granted three wishes by the universe, that would damn sure be one of 'em.

from as far back as i can remember i have railed endlessly and impotently against all the idiots out there, since that's easier than facing down the idiot in here

[which self-awareness puts me at least a half-step ahead of all those other angry bloggers, right?].

gobble gobble

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when i was a kid growing up in tyler, texas, it was a backwater place basically known for three things: roses, oil money and greenberg's smoked turkeys.

if we were lucky, one of our rich relations would favor us with a greenberg turkey at christmas, and when that happened i can't tell you how special it was because there are few things in this world my family loves as much, but in those lean days we would've never dreamed of splurging on such a luxury for ourselves.

in the ensuing years--especially since oprah named them one of her favorite things a few years back--greenberg's has gone from regional delicacy to coast-to-coast phenomenon, and deservedly so. i'm tellin ya, if you haven't had one, you haven't lived.

these last several years, i've always made sure one of these glorious birds preceded my arrival at my mom's house by a day or so, so as to be perfectly thawed in time for christmas dinner.

well, today it suddenly occurred to me that i'd forgotten to go online and order this year's turkey, so in a last-minute panic i called greenberg's from my car, prepared for the inevitable disappointment.

to my surprise, the phone was answered on the first ring by a live person [and no indian accent, either--that familiar east texas twang washed over me like warm bathwater].

i explained the problem, she pulled up my record immediately. "got it, hon--same order, same address?"

i said yeah, started fumbling for a credit card, asked if she could wait til i pulled over. she said, "aw, don't worry bout that--when the bill comes jest send us a check, and yew and your family have a merry christmas!"

i miss east texas sometimes.

quote of the effin' decade

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last week, the president sat down with steve kroft for his third (i think) snow job appearance on 60 minutes since his election. among many extraordinary utterances, this is the one that most made me wanna throw shit at the tv:

"I did not run for office to be helping out a bunch of fat cat bankers on Wall Street."

oh, really, mr. president?

[believe it or not, there was a time when i might've actually bought that statement--last year before the election, as much as i thought [hell, knew] how wrong this guy was for the job, i at least held out the hope that if elected, his ultra-liberal ass would be compelled to throw the corrupt money-changers outta the temple.

ha--even i can be a pollyanna sometimes; i managed to forget for a minute that, no matter which side of the aisle a politician's on, it's first, last and always about the money.]

rather than the pretty words our president says, let's look instead at what he's done, shall we?

i could lay it out for you--hell, my jaw's been on the floor since he named tim geithner as his treasury secretary--but matt taibbi's done a far better job of documenting the whole ugly mess than i ever could, so read him instead. and i mean, every word.

i tell you, when disillusioned liberals start writing pieces like this, you know it's getting pretty bad.