Breezy Update (with Chunks)

Two days under the weather.  Diarrhea, vomiting . . . yuck, who wants to hear about that?  TMI!  TMI!

I only mention it because I’m so damn happy it’s over.  At last, I can get back to stressing over more important things than the distance to the nearest bathroom.

Things like Christmas.  I sent out our annual holiday message a couple of days ago.  My, how far we have fallen.  Until 2008 we mailed real letters, but for the past two years have sent only email.  I know people read as much into the medium as the message, and sending email may seem like the act of a piker to them.  Really, it was more about not having to hand feed 100 envelopes into the printer, never mind licking them all . . . you know, there’s no way to talk about this without sounding like the kind of jerk who’d send you an email instead of a real letter, so I’ll just move on, okay?

I brought the Martha Stewart Omniliving Tree® in from the garage today, and maybe Polly will put it up this weekend.  We strung the outdoor lights a couple of weeks ago, so as far as the neighbors are concerned, we’re in the spirit.  Little do they know.

At least my personal Christmas shopping is done.  Every year about this time, I thank the gods for online shopping.  I ordered three gifts Monday morning.  Amazon promised me they’d all be here before December 22nd.  The first one arrived today.  It’s almost like magic!

A friend asked me to call my senators in support of the DREAM act.  One of my senators is John McCain.  The other is John Kyl.  Sure, that’d be a productive and worthwhile call.  When it comes to the Senate, as an Arizona Democrat I’m disenfranchised . . . my voice will never be heard.

And really, what’s the point?  As Sean Paul Kelly at The Agonist says:

. . . sorry for the silence lately. I just have nothing to say, other than the infrequent one liner. There just doesn’t seem to be any point right now as the Democrats engage in an orgy of selling out their base and every institution in the United States engages in some form of censorship in regards the Wikileaks revelations. I’m just disgusted. More than anything else, I’m heartbroken to see this all happening the way it is.

I’ve heard people argue that even if someone went back in time and murdered Mao in his crib, everything that happened in China during WWII and up to the present day would have happened anyway, right down to backyard steel smelters and the Gang of Four.  Maybe the Little Red Book would have been blue instead.

Few would deny there’s a rising tide of police state-style security and obedience to authority in our country, a tide the election of Obama and Democratic majorities in Congress did nothing to deflect.  Like any tide, there’s no sweeping it back.  It’ll recede when it recedes, and not before then.  But it will recede.  I have to believe in that.

Meanwhile, maybe we can rectify some small injustices:

Martin Erzinger, the wealthy and connected motorist who ran down a bicyclist in Vail, Colorado, and then fled the scene, leaving the bicyclist for dead?  The one the local DA initially refused to charge with a felony because he’s wealthy and connected?  Public outrage caused the DA to reconsider, and Erzinger’s now on trial for felony hit-and-run.

Erzinger’s defense is sleep apnea.  He says the fumes emanating from the upholstery in his new Mercedes put him to sleep and he didn’t know he’d even hit anyone.  He knew enough, though, to continue driving for several blocks, pull into a Pizza Hut parking lot, and call his insurance company to have the car towed to a repair shop.  Wait a minute.  I have sleep apnea.  And I’m not buying what Erzinger’s selling.

Regardless of the outcome of the trial, Erzinger “. . . has been deluged with very threatening, awful, vitriolic e-mails and phone calls.”  I just bet he has.

But I see I’ve veered off in a hateful direction.  Let’s get back to Christmas with this wonderful photo from The Boston Globe’s Big Picture:

Santa Claus gets a hug from Make-a-Wish Foundation child Emma Mear, 8, at Macy's in the Walden Galleria in Cheektowaga, New York on Sunday, Dec. 5, 2010.

I can get behind a Santa like that.

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