Okay. I have no idea why when I look at this page I can't get my most recent posts from February on. But them's the brakes.

I also assure you that I haven't Blogged since May. Stop looking at me like that. I know I fail. Big time.

But let's see, so much has happened, I don't even know where to begin. Well, there's the blackout. Here's what happened to me:

I was getting ready for my vacation. I was going back home the next day. When the lights went out in the office, we were sure it was our fault. Then we realized it was the entire floor. Eventually, we came to the realization that it was the building and we were trying to figure out who tripped a cable. Soon, we were at windows, peering into the offices next door to see if they were out of juice only to find them staring back at us and wondering the same thing. “It must be the entire block,” we explained. I managed to open a window and hang myself out just enough to see what was going on – fire trucks had started moving downtown quickly and there were people gathering on the sidewalks. Finally, someone in the office found a transistor radio and to our disbelief, we found out that all of Manhattan was out of power. The office manager was able to get on her cellphone (they don’t work well in emergencies, by the way – we have some experience with that up here) and talk to her mother in Westchester. This is how we found out that power was down from here to Michigan.

We decided to leave the office and head to a co-workers apartment in the East Village (it was the closest to our office). At this point (maybe 15-20 minutes after the lights first went out), people were streaming out of buildings and taking over the streets. Cars were jammed between the pedestrians; all the traffic lights were out, so people were just filling in the spaces between the cars since the sidewalks were crammed. Tourists were completely confused. One of them asked, “What the heck is going on?” He looked a little scared. Ten of us answered him and basically said, “Lights are out, we’re going home. Follow the crowd.”

At first, we were all a little scared. The exodus from Lower Manhattan was an eerily familiar scene. We work half a block away from the Trade Center Site. As we looked right past City Hall to the Brooklyn Bridge, it triggered a memory in my brain that I hoped I would never recall. Soon, we were standing at a corner, listening to a radio with at least twenty other people. We heard the Mayor assuring us that the City was secure and that it was not terrorist-related. In that instant, you could see who was a New Yorker because the relief settled back into everyone’s face. At that moment, the blackout became an annoyance rather than something to be scared about. But the mood changed and people were in much better spirits.

After walking the twenty-twenty five blocks to the East Village, we hung out, trying to find out information about how and when those of us who live further north could get home. We sat, hung out, talked, listened to the radio, and tried to stay cool. As night started to fall, those of us that lived north decided it was time to try to get home. We figured we could try to catch a cab or a bus, but we knew there would be some way we could get home.

On the street, the raw food restaurant next door was hopping. People were on the streets, sitting, meeting neighbors for the first time. Crowds were gathered on corners where some people had set up radios. As we tried unsuccessfully to hail a cab, night started to fall rapidly. In the time that we left the apartment, it was almost pitch black. It was very strange for a city used to artificial light. We decided to try our luck and move north in hopes of finding a bus since it was impossible to find a cab. There were three of us left, I live Upper East, and I was about 98 blocks away from home. One of my co-workers lives at 195th, the opposite end of the island. The other co-worker lived in Westchester. We needed to find a way to get home that didn’t involve walking since night was falling so quickly and the only point of reference we had on NYC blackouts involved a lot of rioting and looting. We stopped at 14th Street and 1st Avenue, coincidentally the same place I was able to catch the bus on September 11th.

So we waited. And waited. And tried to hail cabs. Buses were going across town, but not uptown. A crowd of people had formed on the corner. People who lived in the Bronx were becoming visibly agitated. One woman in particular was yelling at the buses and cabs going by. For the most part, everyone was patient and making the best of the situation. We were about to give up when a truck actually stopped. The passenger hung out the window. “Anyone going uptown?” he called. In a matter of seconds, ten of us jumped in the pickup. Our plan was to get to my apartment and then I was going to drive my co-workers to 195th Street. At this point, we just wanted to get north and it seemed we found a guy willing to go up the east side to the Bronx.

We were moving well until about 34th Street where the traffic just stopped cold. People were trying to get to Queens and without traffic lights, we just weren’t moving. We shifted in the heat and discomfort, settling in for the long haul when a guy got out of his car and came over and asked, “Can I take your picture?” We hammed it up for the camera as we realized exactly what it must have looked like, ten people squished in the back of this pickup truck that wasn’t really moving anywhere. Soon, people were taking pictures all over the place. We moved slowly, but long enough to start conversing with people walking on the street. Police were doing what they could to direct traffic and keep an eye on the streets. In the intersections where police were missing, regular New Yorkers were attempting to direct traffic – and not doing a bad job. Though we were hot and very uncomfortable, I was smiling the entire time.

Eventually, we were able to turn on 42nd Street to try to get to a less crowded street. It was at this moment that I was struck by the blackness and silence – being stuck in traffic gave the illusion of light because of all the headlights. Immediately, I looked up to see something I have never seen in Manhattan in the two years I’ve lived there – the stars. I could barely make out the Chrysler building, but it didn’t matter because my attention was drawn to the sky. Soon, however, my attention diverted to the street where I saw bars wide open and people just mulling around midtown – it looked like a big street party. Some businessmen were asleep on the street, heads on briefcases. We stopped at an intersection and a man walked out from one of the bars, posed for a picture with us, and then handed the passenger his full glass of wine. When the passenger tried to return it to him, the man smiled and said, “No, you take it, pass it around.” Eventually, I had an almost full glass of wine in my hands and no one else wanted it. When in Rome…

After we passed the 59th Street Bridge, traffic disappeared. It was dark and though the driver was cautious at the intersections, we flew north. It was actually very incredible, speeding under the stars in the back of a truck. He stopped a block away from my apartment. After thanking him profusely, my co-workers and I hopped off to hear him say, “Let’s do this again sometime soon.” We all laughed.

I was able to drive my friends home. Afterwards, my roommate and I cruised around in my car, listening to the radio, and looking at Manhattan – completely dark. People were out, having parties, having a good time. In Harlem, a guy brought out his violin and then his neighbors grabbed their instruments and they had a jam session right there on the street. We had a block party on my street.

I had another feeling of déjà vu. For the second time since I moved up here, I remembered how we cope with bad situations. For the millionth time, I felt proud of my city and more connected to it. Though I had a very restless night and the lights didn’t come back on for another day and a half in my apartment, I really can only remember the blackout with a smile on my face.

After all, I got to see the stars shining over Manhattan. How often does one get to say that?

Oh, and a free wine glass.

I have been accused of being partisan. Me? I would like people to note that I am partisan by choice, but it doesn't mean that I don't listen to the other side. Hell, it's called strategy...er, strategery if our current president has his way. So here. Take a look below. Make your own choices, this is a free country...unless our president has his way with that, too...there I go, back on my soapbox.

I, by the P.S., would like to point out that I got these here quotes from the NY Times, unlike a certain writer at that paper. See, I knew that when they backed Pataki that there was something seriously wrong over there. Whoops! Soapbox again.

G.O.P. VOICES
Republicans Explain Why the Party Appeals

"I want to make sure the dollars that we are taxed are being spent properly. I like George Bush's stance on social spending and funding of some of the Democratic strongholds. I feel that he's putting pressure on the Congress to really come to task and be responsible in their social spending. Because of the budget deficit, I feel that the Republicans are the best party to be able to bring a balanced budget back to the United States."
TIM CHRYSLER
Computer consultant, Woodbury, Minn.


"Republicans believe in the sovereignty of our country. The Republican Party consistently stands with our capitalistic system. They believe in free enterprise; they believe that we have the best country in the world. They take a lot less shots at what really makes this country great. The Republicans are for smaller government."
JOHN NICHOLAS
Associate pastor, Gentryville, Ind.


"It seems like the Republicans are little bit more conservative, and I tend to run more along the conservative line: not spending money so freely, that type of thing. I tend to think that the Democrats tend to raise taxes more and spend money a little more freely than I would like them to. The Democrats just seem a little more freewheeling, like Clinton."
SHEILA SCHAEFFER
Computer aide, Fort Wayne, Ind.

"The Republican Party just agrees with the way I feel compared with the Democratic Party, which is right now almost a communist party. You have to go some way or the other. I happen to think the Republicans are much more conservative. The Republican Party is trying to make the country so that the people are relatively self-sufficient and not living on welfare, which is paid for by the government and the people who are actually earning money."
RICHARD WIBALDA
Retired serviceman, Las Vegas

DEMOCRATIC VOICES
Identifying With the Party's Traditional Themes

"I think that the Democrats are more for the lower-class people. Didn't Clinton get the deficit down to practically paid for? And where are we now? We're back worse than ever."
LILA CAMPEN
Retired advertising manager, Renton, Wash.


"I think the Democrats look out for the small businesses and the independent businesses. They don't put big corporate America first. Bush's tax cuts all end up rewarding huge corporate America, and he makes a stink that it's the little man that's getting a break. He got a $600 break. That's not a break for a family."
LINDA NECOCHEA
Homemaker, Ojai, Calif.


"I don't consider myself a one-issue voter, but if I had to be, it would be the environment, and maybe that for me is the real difference between the two parties. We all live on this planet and we have to take care of it. There's no guarantee at the present rate that there's going to be a healthy planet a hundred years from now for our children, and our grandchildren, and our great-grandchildren. We have to take care of it now."
SAM ROSENTHAL
Professor of linguistics, Huntington Woods, Mich.


"I've always felt that the Democratic Party was more interested in the little guy. They seem to take all races, feelings and creeds into consideration. The Republicans, on the other hand, seem to favor big business. With the Republicans it's, `I've got mine, you've got your own.' "
JUNE BRINES
Clerk, Lafayette, Ind.

Senator Rick Santorum is a jackass. I won't even go into why, I'll just let you read for yourself. Copy and paste the following links into your browser.

http://www.cnn.com/2003/ALLPOLITICS/04/22/santorum.gays/index.html

his actual comments:

http://www.cnn.com/2003/ALLPOLITICS/04/22/santorum.excerpts.ap/index.html

Anyone who disagrees with me, hit the "Say something, go on" link and let's have a real debate about this guy. I'm itching to go in, coach.

Okay. As I read the Times today and read about the President declaring victory in Iraq, I can't help but ask one question:

Did we ever find any chemical weapons? I mean, really. Not some stuff that might or might not be used to make one - did we find fully assembled chemical weapons that were at a stage to be launched?

Okay, I can't help myself. One more question:

So does that mean that we measure success by the apparent breakdown of government (since we can't seem to find Saddam - hmm...sounds like the war on another threat to national security) or do we measure success based on what the Administration "sold" the country on - which was that the threat of chemical and biological weapons was so real that we had to go in there and stop it?

Um, yeah. Someone please explain it to me before we start to take out other "rogue states" such as Syria and Iran, 'cause you know that's coming next. Looks like Bush finally looked at a history book - if he stays at war and "wins" the war against terrorism, he doesn't have time to worry about the economy and can control his wartime popularity - just keep it going. That's how you win a second term.

Oh, and funny how Dick Cheney's former firm gets the winning bid on rebuilding Iraq.

Are you F*!@$ing kidding me?!!? Are you kidding me?

The media is not fooling me. The Administration certainly isn't.

So based on what was said today, let me announce to all of you right now that WE'RE WINNING THE WAR AGAINST TERRORISM BECAUSE WE'VE COMPLETELY RUINED TWO COUNTRIES' EXISTING SYSTEMS AND PUT OUR OWN IN PLACE OF IT BECAUSE THEY WILL BETTER CATER TO OUR NEEDS.

Forget the fact that we can't find Osama, the most dangerous man in the world, or Saddam, the second-most. Nope, what matters is us getting our way. Just like with Boutrous-Boutrous Ghali and Koffi Annan (if you don't know who the two of these men are, then you probably believe what Fox News tells you) and the Human Rights Convention, and the Kyoto Treaty, and we might as well add Syria and Iran to the list.

Hmm, systematically getting rid of the Arab countries does seem to be making the United States safer, after all, we also just shifted our "Code Orange Terror Alert".

Get real, America. Open your eyes. I support the troops, for chrissakes, they are doing their jobs. But I cannot support a president who will continue to put them in harm to protect a way of life that seems to be getting us into a lot of trouble. I realize that they are fighting for my right to oppose this war, but go back to the top of this list and ask yourself the two questions I asked. Try to answer them. Perhaps then you might be just as frustrated and angry as I am at the serious and honest lack of "Strategery" this Administration follows.

Or perhaps you should be angry, revolutionized, and shocked to find out that it isn't a lack of strategy at all. Where are we headed? Mull over that.

I've been busy. But let me say that the best thing about this week all has had to do with sports. And it's because of my two favorite all-time teams, so on that superficial level, I've been able to avoid ridiculous newslines that say that we're actually winning the war because we don't know where Saddam Hussein is and that because we toppled a statue of him, that means that we've won.

May I take this small moment to remind everyone that we don't know where Osama Bin Laden is, either? Perhaps he and Saddam are hunkered down in a cave with Jimmy Hoffa and Elvis and Tupac and Biggie, drinking tea and laughing.

Meanwhile, the US continues to try to render the UN useless, despite the best efforts by Tony Blair (who I love, but haven't been able to figure out recently, I think he's having a serious brainfart right now - WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, TONY?!) - leaving everyone to wonder who's going to run that silly, wayward Iraqi country and Americans wave their flags in victory. The Senate approves spending an additional $80 million dollars on the war, while in recession, and throw in ridiculous pork-barrel-pet-projects like giving hundreds of millions of dollars to Columbia to fight the drug war (?!!!!???) because they know it'll pass. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, there is talk of extending the Patriot Act, which means that sooner or later doublethink and Big Brother will come to realization - and we thought Cointelpro and J. Edgar Hoover was bad enough.

(Here, I will have a Chris Farley moment.)

And the worst part is, I have problems saying I'm against this war because suddenly, I'm not "patriotic enough", or I'm a "traitor". I am "un-American" and "delusional" to think that Saddam would have gone away on his own. I'm a "neo-hippie" and a "pinko-lefto-socialist" (which will become true if George Bush wins re-election - and is becoming true now) who has no "faith in the power of America".

Okay. So maybe I don't "wave the American flag mindlessly because our boys are at war". Maybe I don't "support our troops in the way they want me to". Maybe I "think the President of the United States is delusional." Maybe I think "peace is never an option because of the current administration". Maybe I think "Karl Rove is using the war to win the next election". Maybe I think their "strategery and vision of America is all wrong".

What I do know is this: I don't need to like George Jr. to be an American. And I don't need to support him to be an American. And I don't need to stop shouting what I believe to be an American. In fact, that's what makes me one.

So maybe you can understand why I've been retreating into a world where there are rules. Where heros are made without killing anyone or being a prisoner of war. Where sportsmanship is more valued than raw power.

Thanks to Carmelo Anthony and Gerry McNamara and Hakim Warrick and Kueth Duany and Jim Boeheim for giving me something to believe in again. I've only been waiting my whole life for the 'Cuse to play a game like that. And I only hope to see more - especially if 'Melo was serious about hoping to go to another Final Four.

And just when I thought that inspiration and emulation could only go so far - my thanks go out to the newest Yankee addition, Hideki Matsui, for making history on Tuesday night. Never thought I'd see an incredible Asian athlete hit Grand Slam on opening day on his first day in pinstripes.

At least they gave me something to watch. Something that didn't involve me throwing something at the TV.

It's always time for a revolution.

A note to those war hawks out there for clarification. Because I'm realizing that people don't quite understand why so many of us are up in arms.

Those of us opposed to war fully support the troops. They're doing what they're told to do, it's their job. But it's the purpose that we're fighting, it's telling the President that the ends don't justify the means and that supporting the troops doesn't mean agreeing blindly to this war or supporting it. We accept that our President is an self-righteous, arrogant man who just spat on the world and rendered the only peacekeeping organization in the world useless.

We support out troops by waging peace to prevent them from harm. What is more American than that?

I fail to understand how anyone couldn't have a visceral reaction to the images we've seen in the past week. The images of bombs lighting up the night sky over Baghdad turned my stomach and made me angry in every bone of my body. Sure, Saddam Hussein is an evil man, I know that. I realized in those few fleeting seconds of newscast that I firmly realized why I was so against this whole thing.

I was here on September 11th, 2001. I was at FDNY Headquarters for a Fellowship placement that began on that day. I saw and watched the day unfold from there. I can never erase the image of the needle slipping downward into black smoke rapidly turning grey. Nor can I erase the sounds coming over the walkie-talkies of guys on the ground. Nor can I erase the stillness of the city for the remainder of the week, the quiet, abandoned streets. The silence of Times Square. I can never forget going to Ground Zero two weeks later with the Commissioner of the Office of Fire and Life Safety, looking at a 100 ft piece of the Trade Center lodged at a precarious angle into the side of an adjacent building.

I hate that the President is using what happened here as an excuse. I hate that he's playing on our emotions and our fears to perpetuate a circle of violence and hate. I'd love it if someone got rid of him. But I wouldn't want him dead. I just want him disposed so that he can't screw up our country any longer. Hell, there's not much difference between us and them. We've got a dictatorship, ourselves, too.

But most of all, I hate the feeling that Americans out there watch the buildings fall in Baghdad and cheer. Because just two years ago, we watched three symbols of America attacked. And we watched two of them fall. And we live with the reality of what we have lost every day here in the New York City. No matter where you turn, it's staring you in the face, though the site has been cleared. The psychological effects are still lurking around, hitting you randomly as you simply walk to get lunch. I work exactly a block away from the site. I turn to look at it every day. And for two split seconds, I think that I might still see them, gleaming in the sun, towering over us. And then for a split second, I remember.

And then I wonder how America would feel if they didn't stop with the Trade Center that day. What if they had gone on to destroy the Statue of Liberty, Grand Central, the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, Times Square, and Central Park? What if they didn't stop at the Pentagon and hit the Capitol Building, the White House, the National Archives? What if they marched 250,000 through California, moving through the plains in the west, destroying cities, taking prisoners, through the midwest and to the Capitol? What would you have felt as you watch everything around you falling, your buildings bombed - the very structure of your life and your home reduced to ashes?

Then would you accept and understand why unilateral war is wrong? Then would you say that unmitigated attacks are a form of terrorism?

But most of all, can you finally understand why I feel the way I do? Because of our arrogance, what makes you think that it won't happen again?

___________
Ani DiFranco is my hero.

SELF EVIDENT
Ani DiFranco
(inspired by the WTC disaster)

Yes,
Us people are just poems
We're 90% metaphor
With a leanness of meaning
Approaching hyper-distillation
And once upon a time
We were moonshine
Rushing down the throat of a giraffe
Yes, rushing down the long hallway
Despite what the p.a. announcement says
Yes, rushing down the long stairs
With the whiskey of eternity
Fermented and distilled
To eighteen minutes
Burning down our throats
Down the hall
Down the stairs
In a building so tall
That it will always be there
Yes, it's part of a pair
There on the bow of Noah's ark
The most prestigious couple
Just kickin’ back parked
Against a perfectly blue sky
On a morning beatific
In its indian summer breeze
On the day that America
Fell to its knees
After strutting around for a century
Without saying thank you
Or please

And the shock was subsonic
And the smoke was deafening
Between the setup and the punch line
Cuz we were all on time for work that day
We all boarded that plane for to fly
And then while the fires were raging
We all climbed up on the windowsill
And then we all held hands
And jumped into the sky

And every borough looked up when it heard the first blast
And then every dumb action movie was summarily surpassed
And the exodus uptown by foot and motorcar
Looked more like war than anything i've seen so far
So far
So far
So fierce and ingenious
A poetic specter so far gone
That every jackass newscaster was struck dumb and stumbling
Over 'oh my god' and 'this is unbelievable' and on and on
And I'll tell you what, while we're at it
You can keep the pentagon
Keep the propaganda
Keep each and every TV
That's been trying to convince me
To participate
In some prep school punk's plan to perpetuate retribution
Perpetuate retribution
Even as the blue toxic smoke of our lesson in retribution
Is still hanging in the air
And there's ash on our shoes
And there's ash in our hair
And there's a fine silt on every mantle
From Hell's Kitchen to Brooklyn
And the streets are full of stories
Sudden twists and near misses
And soon every open bar is crammed to the rafters
With tales of narrowly averted disasters
And the whiskey is flowin
Like never before
As all over the country
Folks just shake their heads
And pour

So here's a toast to all the folks who live in Palestine,
Afghanistan, Iraq, El Salvador

Here's a toast to the folks living on the Pine Ridge Reservation
Under the stone cold gaze of Mt. Rushmore

Here's a toast to all those nurses and doctors
Who daily provide women with a choice
Who stand down a threat the size of Oklahoma City
Just to listen to a young woman's voice

Here's a toast to all the folks on death row right now
Awaiting the executioner's guillotine
Who are shackled there with dread and can only escape into their heads
To find peace in the form of a dream

Cuz take away our playstations
And we are a third world nation
Under the thumb of some blue blood royal son
Who stole the oval office and that phony election
I mean
It don't take a weatherman
To look around and see the weather
Jeb said he'd deliver Florida, folks
And boy did he ever

And we hold these truths to be self evident:
#1 George W. Bush is not president
#2 America is not a true democracy
#3 the media is not fooling me
Cuz I am a poem heeding hyper-distillation
I've got no room for a lie so verbose
I'm looking out over my whole human family
And I'm raising my glass in a toast

Here's to our last drink of fossil fuels
Let us vow to get off of this sauce
Shoo away the swarms of commuter planes
And find that train ticket we lost
Cuz once upon a time the line followed the river
And peeked into all the backyards
And the laundry was waving
The graffiti was teasing us
From brick walls and bridges
We were rolling over ridges
Through valleys
Under stars
I dream of touring like Duke Ellington
In my own railroad car
I dream of waiting on the tall blonde wooden benches
In a grand station aglow with grace
And then standing out on the platform
And feeling the air on my face

Give back the night its distant whistle
Give the darkness back its soul
Give the big oil companies the finger finally
And relearn how to rock-n-roll
Yes, the lessons are all around us and a change is waiting there
So it's time to pick through the rubble, clean the streets
And clear the air
Get our government to pull its big dick out of the sand
Of someone else's desert
Put it back in its pants
And quit the hypocritical chants of
Freedom forever

Cuz when one lone phone rang
In two thousand and one
At ten after nine
On nine one one
Which is the number we all called
When that lone phone rang right off the wall
Right off our desk and down the long hall
Down the long stairs
In a building so tall
That the whole world turned
Just to watch it fall



And while we're at it
Remember the first time around?
The bomb?
The Ryder truck?
The parking garage?
The princess that didn't even feel the pea?
Remember joking around in our apartment on avenue D?

Can you imagine how many paper coffee cups would have to change their design
Following a fantastical reversal of the new york skyline?!

It was a joke, of course
It was a joke
At the time
And that was just a few years ago
So let the record show
That the FBI was all over that case
That the plot was obvious and in everybody's face
And scoping that scene
Religiously
The CIA
Or is it KGB?
Committing countless crimes against humanity
With this kind of eventuality
As its excuse
For abuse after expensive abuse
And it didn't have a clue
Look, another window to see through
Way up here
On the 104th floor
Look
Another key
Another door
10% literal
90% metaphor
3000 some poems disguised as people
On an almost too perfect day
Should be more than pawns
In some asshole's passion play
So now it's your job
And it's my job
To make it that way
To make sure they didn't die in vain
Sshhhhhh....
Baby listen
Hear the train?

Okay. So I swear that very soon I will start blogging as usual. Actually, I'm quite peeved after watching George II for the past hour. So I went online and took a quiz to make me feel better.

And wouldn't you know? It turned out to be just the test I would take...thanks, Tess.


Everyday


What Dave Matthews Song Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

I promise to spend more time blogging than taking quizzes, but this one was just too difficult to let pass. Thanks to Dave for the link on his blog - idotking.blogspot.com.


How Republican Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

I've gotten like five different answers to this test, but this one comes up the most. And it's the same answers every time...hmmm...





i'm lovable and love people easily. i like making others
feel at ease, and people just can't help but have a good time when they're
around me. get some vicks and let the good times roll.

find out what kind of drug you are @
tara's website.

Okay. Someone please help me explain this.

So last night was the big Coro fundraiser - fabulous turnout, fabulous panelists, fabulous drinks - fabulous everything.

But there was something that sort of set me off last evening and it's not the first time that it's happened.

See, one of our journal assignments in Coro was to describe a time that we once felt discriminated against. This was somewhat difficult because no one has ever said outright - "I don't like you because you're brown." So I had to do some real thinking about a time that I might have felt discriminated against. And I realized something that happens to me sometimes.

Picture it: WalMart, Duane Reade, Hallmark store. Any given time in my life. I'm strolling through the aisles, looking for that perfect birthday card. I'm wearing a heavy winter jacket and scarf, browsing through the cards, laughing sometimes, just perusing. Like you do.

And I'll continue that way, up and down the aisles, looking at their wares, trying to choose the perfect gift - when suddenly some older white person stops to ask if I work there. Okay, I don't mean to sound like it's always older white people...oh wait. Yes I do. 'Cause that's the only way this scenario works. Let me paint the scene for you:

Setting: a drug store. Me? I'm just walking around. Wander, wander, wander. Browse, browse, browse. Minding my own business when a white person - or WP saunters up with a panic-stricken-urgent look on their face and clears their throat.

WP: Excuse me?

(browse, browse, browse. I don't notice. Until they grab my shoulder)

ME: (turn around, blank look on face) Yeah?

WP: Do you work here?

Me: Um, nope.

WP: Oh. You don't work here?

Me (inside voice): Did I stutter? What did I just tell you? (Outside voice) No.

WP: (hands go immediately to sides as if gravity suddenly strikes) Well, damn. (arms suddenly go back up) What am I going to do? Have you seen anyone that works here?
Me: (inside voice) Please go away and leave me the hell alone. It would be better if you didn't waste my time while you're having a panic attack. (outside voice) Sorry.

Let's examine this exchange. Why in the world would someone think that I work there? Hmmm. I described what I was wearing. Why on earth would someone working there wear a winter coat and scarf? Maybe they were cold you say? Okay. That I'll buy. But now hang on a second. In Hallmark, I wasn't wearing one of those blue smocks. At WalMart, I didn't have on one of those blue polos that clearly read "Walmart", nor was I wearing one of those obnoxious blue smocks. Duane Reade is the same way. Nope, I was just a customer coming in to shop during winter.

So why would someone, let's presumably make them educated, since they seemed nice and smelled nice (yes, this is important criteria), assume that I worked there? What other evidence is there? Hmmm.

Ah, could it be because I am brown?

Now don't get me wrong. I don't presume to say that these people are racist, discriminatory - but given the evidence, why else would anyone assume that I worked there?

Okay. Haven't convinced you? Let me relay a story to you from last night.

I'm in the bathroom of Eugene's. For those of you who have never been there - it's a great club on West 24th Street. Now this is a nice lounge. And if you're from NYC, you know what I'm talking about. Big comfy couches, VIP room, long bar, trendy furniture - and a bathroom attendant in a cool looking bathroom. If you've never experienced the bathroom attendant, come to NYC and I'll show you what I mean. Shee-shee-pee-pee-doo-doo places have them. It's a sure-fire sign that you're in a nice place.

So I'm in the bathroom, minding my own business, chatting amicably with some of the girls in the bathroom whom I happened to know. There were about six of us in the bathroom at the time and because of that, the bathroom attendant was sort of busy and I managed to get to a sink and get my own soap without assistance. While the bathroom attendants are nice people and I always tip them, I didn't have my wallet on me, so I was somewhat happy to go unnoticed at another sink. I did, however, say thank you to the nice bathroom attendant as I was walking past her to the door. (And this doesn't make a difference now, but yes, she happened to be a woman of color) Somehow, as I was walking, I missed the trash can to throw my paper towel away. So I sort of stopped and leaned back to find it and as I righted myself, an older white woman with a fur coat on (if you're from NYC, you know the type), hands me a dollar and says "Thank you very much."

Okay. I'm a bit thrown off. Yes, I have on a black suit and the bathroom attendant is wearing a tuxedo-looking thing (black vest, white shirt, black bow tie). I wasn't the only one in the room wearing a black suit (it's NYC for chrissakes). So I sort of stop dead in my tracks, and look at my hand, which she had slipped the dollar into. I think i said, "Oh."

At which point I promptly punched her in the neck.

Kidding. Don't I wish. I can already see it. WHAM! "Oops! I must have mistaken you for Hitler...bitch."

No, instead, I took the money from her and walked over to the bathroom attendant and put the money in the basket on the sink. I smiled and said, "Here you go." The attendant smiled at me and said, "Thanks." I said, "Have a great night." To which, the furry old white woman went up to the bathroom attendant and said, "Thank you very much." I was trying to get past the two of them and had made it to the door only to realize that the white woman was already at the door holding it open. The fur monster put her hand on my shoulder and had an apologetic look on her face and said, "Thank you very much." She then proceeded to walk out of the door in front of me and sort of held the door open.

And I'm thinking, "Buhscuse me? Oh no you didn't."

That's it. No, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize." Not even an "oops." The point is, no "I'm sorry for confusing the two people of color in the bathroom."

WHAT IN THE SAMHELL IS THAT??!!!

Can you understand my angst? I mean, are you kidding me? If you did that accidentally to someone (and any of you reading, I seriously hope you wouldn't make that mistake) wouldn't you say that you were sorry? Here's a hint: not all people of color work for the establishment you happen to be in. In fact, I think that anyone should be just as offended as I am about this sort of thing. Who the hell do you think you are? Pay some goddammned attention! Did you miss the Civil Rights Movement or were you too busy trying to understand what exactly the Emancipation Proclamation was saying? And for crying out loud, you live in NEW YORK CITY, easily one of the most international cities in the world. Already I have problems trying to explain to people that I'm Filipino and hell if they know where the Philippines is. I usually get people asking if I'm Samoan, Hawaiian, Spanish, and Carribean. Let me remind all of the readers that Filipinos are the second largest group of Asian Americans in the USA. And no matter where I am - be it in NYC, Chestertown, MD, or Syracuse, NY, I get white people asking me all the time what aisle something is in.

Someone please tell me if I'm delusional. But I want you to think about it first. People wonder why I sing that Garret Morris SNL song at times...and if you don't know the song, hellfire on you. Or just email me, I'll be happy to relay the song. Or call me, I'll sing it for you. It's just classic.

Lord knows I was singing it last night when I left the bathroom.

I've come to realize that when I post something that irks me, the problem usually goes away. Case in point: Possible MTA Strike. The day after posting it, they averted one. Another example? Trent Lott. He's no longer Speaker. So I've come to think that maybe, just maybe if I post, things might be better.

P.S. I realize I'm delusional in thinking this. But what the hell, right?

So let's talk war.

That's right. War. Did anyone catch George W. Bush's State of the Union? I couldn't watch for more than five minutes, but I think one of my friends put it best: "Who would have believed that we were actually WINNING the WAR?"

That's 'cause we're not. We haven't finished what happened in Afghanistan, why the hell would we want to go to war someplace else? I just want to thank god for Colin Powell prevailing over W in terms of the UN. This brings me to something that I argued in high school when I went to DC in '96 to see the second Clinton Inauguration. Me and three friends from high school did this program where we not only went to the Inauguration but also spent a week in DC, etc. Basically, we had to also pretend to be in Congress and debate a point.

Our debate of choice? Whether or not the US should withdraw from the UN. Okay, we were Model U.N. geeks. But I still think it's valid, don't you?

Maybe you don't see the connection, that's okay. But what we feared then might be realized now. If George Bush continues on this rampage - this "we'll go to war whether you're with us or against us" then we're in some serious shit. But let me tell you why:

1. Going into an unsanctioned UN war against Iraq is a violation of the UN Charter. You can see the obvious problems here. Let me remind you that if we go to war without proper UN guidance and sanctions then we will be doing the same thing to Iraq that Iraq did to Kuwait back in 1992. At least in 1992, George the first could use that as proper reason for UN support, though we also went for oil. It's bad enough that under Jesse Helms, we allowed our UN dues to skyrocket to the tune of $3 million - which Clinton actively lobbied Congress to pay. The problem is that by doing that, we already had the world thinking we were assholes. Guess what? They think it again.

2. While the proof is pretty heavy, it pales in comparison to the evidence against Russia during the Cuban Missle Crisis. We have strong suspicion that they have nuclear capablity and that they are breaking arms sanctions, but no real proof beyond someone's word against Saddam's. If we have learned anything from Saddam in the past, he's a smart cookie. Yes, the threat is real, but it is also imagined unless we can come up with at least one picture of one missle aimed at the US - AND THE POSSIBILITY OF IT HITTING THE US. The pictures of Cuba in 1962 are undeniable evidence. The pictures of 2003 aren't. We have a lot of circumstancial evidence that points to POTENTIAL threat. I realize that we are in a precarious state right now as a country, but putting us at war in Iraq will endager us even more.

3. Going to war with Iraq without the proper support will further harm our standing in the Middle East. We have connections to Al Queda in Iraq, but even that is shaky ground. As far as I know, there are plenty of people in the world with Al Queda connections - and don't think for a minute that I'm being flippant about this. Remember where I was on September 11th? That's right. What I am saying now is that Al Queda is our opponent and we shouldn't lose sight of that. I'm not sure that going to war against Saddam is a way to quelch that threat. In fact, it seems like it's something we added on at the end. "We want to rid the world of terrorists and evil-doers. So we will find the people who knocked down our buildings and make them pay. Oh, and while we're at it, we'll also finish the job we've been meaning to in Iraq." Connecting the dots later does not make for diplomacy. We go to war in Afghanistan, we go to war in Iraq - and what do you think the Arab world will think of us? They already hate us. What makes us think that by getting rid of Saddam we get rid of the hate - that we end the cycle? No, we promote the cycle of hate and war and death by going to war. I'm already upset that we went to war in the first place, now it seems to me that we are inadvertantly starting a holy war that I'm not sure we'll ever erase.

4. If we move without UN support, we will further diminish our standing in the world and regain the standing of us as bullies. Are you willing to let the President of this country invade a nation to protect our way of life? Would you wage war as a means to and end? I'm realize that I'm not aware of what he knows - all the super intellegence that has been gathered that is at the White House. But you know what? I'm not convinced that this is the means to an end. I know that Saddam Hussein is a delusional and evil dictator. But I need to be convinced that the threat is REAL, not IMAGINED. I need to be sure that when we move, we move with the world behind us, a unilateral effort to rid the world of Saddam. Globalization doesn't only occur on the economic level, it can happen on the political one, too. It helped calm my fears about going to war in Afghanistan, it would sure help now. There's something that one of my professors in college said - and he was only at the school for a year - and many people did not like him, but I found his words to be intriguing: "The United States and Western world are constantly worried about nations developing the nuclear bomb. It makes sense to fear something you know that is so terrible. But the thing is just this: why fear other countries developing them? We should all be more afraid of the country that actually has used them."

5. Going to war does not erase what is happening at home. Unemployment is rising. Homelessness is rising. The economy is awful. Drug use is at an all time high. George, there are things at home that you should be concerned about...or maybe that's why we're going to war...

This is what I feel. Maybe it's illogical, maybe contradictory, but you know what? I'm not entirely against this war - AS LONG AS IT'S FOR THE RIGHT REASONS AND WITH THE RIGHT SUPPORT. I admit again that I am not aware of all the intellegence on this issue. There's probably a whole hell of a lot more that we don't know. But I'd rather be a dove than a hawk and I'd rather us try to settle our issues in the proper manner than invade a nation that we think poses a possible threat. I'd rather see our country working towards peace than war and stop scaring us into believing that this war is necessary. If I had five seconds alone with George W. Bush, I'd have this to say to him:

"It's okay George. Daddy will still love you."

Recently, I've been surfing my buddies sites and AIM Profiles. So that would explain the Founding Fathers thing and this post. A few had found a website that automatically puts a word you choose into a slogan. Find it at: thesurrealist.co.uk/slogan.

For example, I took the liberty to put in "Keeza". Below are the results and then the top 13 slogans for "Keeza". (Top 13 because they just are, ok?)

"Good Keeza has Danish written all over it."
"Takes a Keeza, but keeps on tickin'."
"Aaaah, Keeza."
"The Keeza drinkers lighter Keeza."
"A glass and a half in every Keeza."
"It's not TV. It's Keeza."
"Fall into the Keeza."
"Dial down the Keeza."
"The appliance of Keeza."
"Keeza - the appetizer!"
"The Keeza of confidence."
"Always after me Keeza."
"Built Keeza tough."
"My Doctor says 'Keeza'."
"Ask the man from the Keeza."
"Look for the Keeza label."
"Made in Scotland from Keeza."
"You can be sure of Keeza."
"Come to life. Come to Keeza."
"You can on a Keeza, can do!"
"Recommended by Dr. Keeza."
"Come see the softer side of Keeza."
"Keeza keeps it going and going."

THE TOP 13 SLOGANS FOR "KEEZA":
13. "Wow! I could have had a Keeza!" sinner.
12. "I'm only here for the Keeza."
11. "Sometimes you feel like a Keeza, sometimes you don't."
10. "Good honest Keeza since 1896."
9. "Ding-Dong! Keeza calling!"
8. "Keeza tested, Mother approved."
7. "The best Keeza a man can get."
6. "From our Keeza to yours."
5. "I'm Cuckoo for Keeza."
4. "Thank Keeza it's Friday."
3. "The Keeza is mightier than the sword."
2. "Lipsmakin' thirstquenchin' acetastin' motivatin' goodbuzzin' cooltalkin' highwalkin' fastlickin' evergivin' coolfizzin' Keeza." (Say that 10x fast.)

...AND THE NUMBER 1 SLOGAN FOR THE WORD "KEEZA":

1. "DON'T SAY BROWN. SAY KEEZA."

If you know me, you'll understand why that's funny.

Haha! I buhfigured it out so that this only comes once - I AM THE SMARTEST EVER!

Well, not really. But figure out which Founding Father you are by clicking on the link...

Which Founding Father Are You?

Much thanks to Dave for the link above - who knew that I'd have more in common with George Washington than attending the school that bears his name...ah, fifty guineas and a dream...

Sadly, I recently drove my good and dear friend, Fab to her new home in Cleveland, Ohio. That's right. Sunny Cleveland.

Did I say sunny? I meant grey, dark, dank. I admit that I'm an elitist when it comes to New York, but I'm hard-pressed to find a New Yorker that isn't. We have much to be elitist about, after all. And look, I did spend a good amount of time outside of the state - and it reinforced my belief in my homestate. I've come to terms that while I could live in a nice state like Maryland or a nice city like Boston, I just can't find anything that feels like I do when I'm in New York - be it state or city. I love the whole damn thing. So I'm a New York elitist. Big deal. I know plenty of people who like Baltimore and I fail to understand, so keep to yours and I'll keep to mine, thank you very much.

Now this isn't what I choose to talk about today. No. I want to talk about the drive from New York to Cleveland. Why? Because it's long. And because driving through a snowstorm yields numerous possibilities for a fun road trip. And because driving through Pennsylvania east to west is not something that I recommend to anyone. It's like driving through an asshole backwards.

Yes. That is the imagery I choose to use.

We left NYC about five hours later than planned, which meant that we were driving through most of the evening. We had already resigned to the idea that we'd have to stop if it got too bad or we were too tired. So off we went, over the George Washington Bridge and towards Ohio.

Let me explain some things that you need to know:

1. Fab and I ALWAYS have interesting roadtrips.
2. Fab has a cat, Cali, that needed to come with her to her new apartment. Cali doesn't like car trips. So Fab has a tranquilizer in the event that she has to go on one.
3. Maybe only Fab and I think that we're funny. It's ok. We realize that.

So, as we leave NYC, Fab mentions to me that I'm the one that has to give Cali her tranquilizer. Buhscuse me? I'm no Dr. Doolittle. But she's convinced that I'm the one who has to do it since she couldn't. Looking around, I seemed to be the only other option. And at this point in the trip (let's say, um, about ten minutes), Cali's meowing had gotten to a fever pitch and was driving the two of us nuts. We thought that turning up the radio would help, but we felt callous. So Fab decided to try to give her the tranquilizer whilst I drove. We had already tried to pull aside once before leaving the city to administer the drug, but the cat wasn't having it. So as we drove towards the Delaware Water Gap, Fab decided to try again - this time, while the car was in motion. Fine by me. Anything to keep her quiet.

As you can probably imagine, this wasn't the smartest idea the two of us had. After the third try (she was attempting to shoot the pill down Cali's throat while she was meowing), she lost the pill somewhere in the carrier. Also, she noticed that she was suddenly wet. I couldn't smell anything, so I assumed that it was from the snow. Five minutes later, we couldn't conceal the smell of ammonia in the car.

That's right, kids. The cat peed on Fab as she tried to give her the pill. Luckily for the car, it seemed to be mostly on Fab's pants.

Strike one.

We decide we're hungry. So we get to the next exit and head for Wendy's (a Fab and Keeza favorite). We miss the Wendy's by ten miles - the road wasn't marked at all. As we turn around, Fab comes to the brilliant conclusion that not only were we lost in (shudder) New Jersey, we were starved, she was wet, and the cat had pissed on her. All she wanted to do was change her pants. So she spots an abandoned X-mas Tree store, makes me pull over, and changes pants in the middle of the parking lot. Did I mention that it's a snowstorm?

As she changes, she whips out the febreeze and sprays it all over the car. At this point, I'm hungry, have febreeze in my mouth, and going slowly crazy as the cat meows at an unforgivingly high pitch. We are both resolved to give this cat the pill. So as she holds Cali down, I gently manage to get the pill into the cat's mouth and massage her throat.

Objective one taken care of.

Now we're on the road with a vengance trying to find the Wendy's. We locate it and sit down to eat. As we sit, we come to the slow realization that the past hour of our road trip has been very entertaining. I mention that I felt like we were in a "very bad Animal Planet". Fab starts to choke on her Wendy's chilli whilst on the phone. We are laughing like crazies in the middle of Wendy's. She tries to say that the chilli is up her nose when I exclaim, "If you snarf a chilli bean onto my dashboard when we get back into the car, I'm dumping your ass here and going back to NY", which only makes her laugh harder.

Maybe you had to be there.

But the other great part of the roadtrip - besides the motel that we stayed at where we had to pull a virtual James Bond to get the cat in and out of the room with no one seeing - was that we ran over something dead.

Okay, I didn't mean for that to sound the way it came out. Because running over roadkill is disgusting.

But the thing is that we weren't sure what it was. It didn't look like anything resembling an animal (quadreped, that is - not a deer or a racoon) - nor did it look like anything resembling a part fallen off of a car. Instead, it looked like an anaconda. Do they have anaconda's in Pennsylvania? 'Cause it's disturbing.

And one more thing - we went out to dinner in Cleveland and I was in the women's bathroom and there was a dispenser labeled "Women's Feminine Tampons". Does anyone else see why I think this is funny? I mean, come on. Please look at it again and tell me that it's funny.

I think I'm losing my mind. No job and no money make Monkee something, something...

And by the P.S. - I realize that I have the "Which Founding Father" thing on my last blog twice. I still think RAM is a football team, so I have no idea why it is doing that.

Happy holidays, all. Thanks for visiting.

Wanna know why it's been a great holiday? No transit strike and Trent Lott is no longer Speaker. Wheehee!

I know what you're saying, "Great, Monkee, onto your usual rant." Keep yer pants on. I got a good one.

Now the holiday season usually means a time to go back to the homefire, back to the families, back to the hometown where we grew up. This always poses some interesting possibilities. Lemme explain.

If you're lucky enough to go home for an extended period of time - for me, a week - then you probably are trying to figure out how to divide your time between your family and your old friends. This is usually the case for me. So before I go home, like some of you, I call my friends to tell them when I'll be back. We make plans, etc - I'm sure you know how the rest of it goes.

But here's the thing: we always say, "Yeah, let's go out (insert night of the week here) night. We'll figure it out when we get home."

Now you haven't been home in a while and everything has changed. So you're trying to rack your brain about which place - old for the memories or new for the experience - you should go to. Keep in mind that it's Upstate New York, so it's also snowing and cold. With all of this in mind, your choices have now somewhat been cut down. You no longer want to go far away - like into the city of Syracuse 'cause it's cold and snowing. So you now have to stick to your immediate area.

See, in Syracuse, a lot of the school districts are marked by the town or in my case, two towns, Fayetteville and Manlius. So I went to Fayetteville-Manlius High School. Now this is a long and now that I look at it, confusing way of saying that in my immediate area where I went to high school, there are two towns where our possibilities for a night are. And within these two towns, there's only two bars to seriously consider going to - Mulligans in Fayetteville and Mulrooney's in Manlius (at least I think those are their names since we call them both Mully's).

Mully's in Fayetteville is much closer to my house (down the street) but Mully's in Manlius is much nicer. This is where the problem lies.

Mully's in Manlius has become the place where FM High School grads go to when home. So you have a serious question to ask yourself: Do you want to face people that you have either: a.) fallen out of touch with; b.) never really talked to in high school; c.) they never acknowledged your presence in high school; d.) can remember their face, but not their name; e.) forgotten existed?

My answer is no under choice f: All of the above. I don't want to see people that I have either chosen to or involuntarily fallen out of touch with, I don't want to see people that I never talked to in high school, nor do I want to see people whose faces I can place, but whose names elude me. I certainly don't want to see people who never acknowledged my very presence and I don't need to be reminded who exists because obviously, I have forgotten them for a reason. Who the hell in their right minds will put themselves through that?

And the answer to this more important question is: me and my one of my best friends, Sugene. Why? Because we did. We knew all of the stuff that I just said and we went anyway. We were fully aware of our consequences. Why? I'm afraid I can't answer that. But this I know: I always, always resist going to Mully's. Suege seems to be intent on bringing me there at least once every time we're home. The last time, her entire graduating class was in the bar and I knew maybe 5 people there. Felt out of place. So I really didn't want to go this time. But sucks to my asthmar, I went.

And this time, my graduating class was holding court at Mully's.

I had a great time. Got to hang out with people that I didn't forget existed, just didn't know where they ended up. Catching up with folks. Seeing how everyone has grown. Changed.

It's interesting to see who thinks they're still too cool for school to talk to you - and yes, there are always a couple of them. Dicks. I mean, really? Does it matter anymore? Really? Ooh, you were a lacrosse player and untouchable - for chrissakes, you aren't playing anymore - get the damn stick out of your ass. For everyone else, they learned to be human beings and have learned to say a basic "Hello". Learn humanity. It's really not going to help you in the long-run to continue walking around with your head up your own ass.

By the way, Suege didn't have a great time this time - since it was my graduating class. Eh, can't win 'em all. Guess we'll be going into Syracuse next time we're home and want to go out.

That takes care of that one.

Okay. I wanna talk about the weather.

Why is it so freakin' cold out there?

I'm sure that you've noticed. It's freakin' freezing out there. So let's talk about it, shall we?

Anyone notice how damn hot it was this summer? It was unbearably hot. And I sweat a lot, so let's just say that it was really disgusting - or as me and some friends like to say - buhgusting and buhgross. There was no real way to escape the heat unless you had air conditioning. And if you read one of my summer posts, you'll see my plan to put air conditioning in every corner of the world before I die.

But now it's freakin' cold out. Why the two extremes?

Um, global warming? El Nino? La Nina? Does it worry anyone else besides me?

Now let's talk fashion. There is a connection, I promise.

In this kind of weather, why do we subject ourselves to be victims of fashion? Because while the peacoats and wool coats look nice, they don't do a damn thing when the weather is this damn cold. The air seems to get underneath so that it gets right to us - and lately, I've been sporting a leather coat. Um, the leather doesn't do much of anything. It's as useless as a baby in a topless bar. In fact, it holds the cold. Why in the hell do I wear it?

'Cause it looks cool. It's nice. And expensive. And black. And I live in Manhattan. What the hell am I thinking?

While I'm standing out there, waiting for the bus to arrive, and I'm doing the math between what time it is and the time the bus gets there and the chances and probability of me freezing to death - I notice that I'm not the only one who's delusional. I notice that everyone around me, clad in nice jackets, are doing the same damn thing.

Why do we do it to ourselves? I would be happier than a pig in shit if I just wore a fleece jacket underneath my goretex crew jacket. But the leather jacket or my peacoat look so much better next to it.

I blame Britney Spears. Well, not really, but it's a change from me blaming the Republicans, isn't it? Actually, I don't blame anyone but myself. Silly old me, trying to look cool going to a bar. If I just wore my big and not as nice jackets that would keep the warmth in, I'd probably be happier. And come to think of it, we all are. No one gives a shit what you're wearing. No one. Except ourselves. And if someone else did really give a damn, tell them to screw themselves. They're probably wearing a thin leather jacket and freezing their ass off. And you can tell them, "At least I'm warm, jackass."

New topic: I wish to talk about [insert evil giggle of glee] Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott.

[grin] I'm sorry - I can't seem to stop smiling at this whole thing. I can't seem to stop laughing, either. And I'd like to apologize, but frankly, I don't give a damn. For once in the past couple of weeks, I'm happy with all the media attention on the Republicans.

Now let's get to the facts of the matter, shall we? This is buhxactly what he said (according to TIME magazine):

Lott has been under fire since last week, when he declared that his state was proud to have voted for Strom Thurmond's segregationist ticket in 1948. "And if the rest of the country had followed our lead," Lott added in remarks at Thurmond's 100th birthday party, "we wouldn't have had all these problems over the years either." Lott has since apologized, and on Thursday, President Bush said the apology was deserved. "Any suggestion that the segregated past was acceptable or positive is offensive and it is wrong," Bush declared.

Let me just amplify: "And if the rest of the country had followed our lead," Lott added in remarks at Thurmond's 100th birthday party, "we wouldn't have had all these problems over the years either."

I don't care if the man was turning 1,000 or if he was happy 'cause his viagra was working - the comments were unnecessary.

Okay, maybe he was just kidding - and he figured it was safe to say it in the company of other politicos. Maybe he felt like he was in a "safe zone" where he could say bullshit like that.

Or maybe he really meant it.

Hmmm.

Let's see - let's take a look at his record:

1. He tried to block the integration of African-Americans into his college fraternity at Ole Miss. It has now since been integrated, but he was a leading force against it.

2. In his 1981 friend-of-the-court filing with the Supreme Court, Lott cited court rulings upholding affirmative action programs at colleges and compared them to the dating ban between black and white students at Bob Jones University. Bob Jones University is a fundamentalist Christian school in Greenville, South Carolina, and its ban on interracial dating among students has long stirred controversy. It has dogged judicial nominees who were involved in the school's various legal fights, and presidential candidates, including Bush, who have been criticized for visiting the campus. The school recently lifted the ban. The Supreme Court ruled 8-1 to strip the school of its tax exemption about two years after Lott filed his brief. "To hold that this religious institution is subject to tax because of its interracial dating policies would clearly raise grave First Amendment questions," he argued. (from CNN)

3. In a 1997 interview with Time magazine, Lott said he once favored segregation as a college student watching armed U.S. marshals help a black student gain entry to a Mississippi university. "Yes, you could say that I favored segregation then. I don't now," Lott was quoted as saying. "The main thing was, I felt the federal government had no business sending in troops to tell the state what to do." (from CNN)

4. And he's done it before. As CNN reports: That line initially drew little fire, but the criticism grew this week and intensified with a report of a similar comment he made at a 1980 campaign rally for Ronald Reagan in Mississippi. His comments followed a speech by Thurmond, who praised the platform that would soon put Reagan in the White House. "You know, if we had elected this man 30 years ago, we wouldn't be in the mess we are today," Lott was quoted as saying of Thurmond in a November 3, 1980, article in The Clarion-Ledger, a Jackson newspaper.

That's just a few of the things that he's done that follow the same line as his remarks. If you ask me, it ain't just a kwinky-dink. (Er, that would be coincidence, in Monkey-speak)

You know what? I'm not even going to editorialize this one. I'm just presenting the facts. But as this is my blogger, I might as well personalize it, no?

Hell, you twisted my arm.

I think it just slipped out. Really. I think he just said it, he meant it to be funny or he meant it to be sincere, either way, it was a dumb-ass thing to say. I think his apology should be enough and there really isn't enough happening out there in our big wide world - which is the same reason that Mariah Carey's mental breakdown dominated the news for weeks.

But as I debate with myself back and forth as to whether or not the man should resign, I keep coming back to one thing: he's the Majority Leader. He's in charge of the party that just won a historical mid-term election and a party that's seeking to re-shape its image as friendly to minorities. And though I would have debated it in the thesis I wanted to write (instead of one on critical elections), his party is Lincoln's party - in name, not so much in policy anymore - and either way you look at it, he's the guy that they look to - he's the leader.

He shouldn't be so damn stupid. He's in charge, for chrissakes.

He should watch his damn mouth. He's the damn spokesperson for his party, for the love of pete.

See, this is the type of stuff that gives me hope for my party. My poor, disjointed, losing party (I can admit it, okay?). When a Republican makes stupid ass remarks like this that are just plain stupid and insensitive - well, I gotta hang onto something, right? Right. But you know what? NOTHING he says can take back the remark. He's apologized how many times now - four? It doesn't matter. You said it and nothing you can say or do can take it back. Know why? 'Cause your record says something different.

This, my dear friends, can be chalked up to something my good friend and sister whom I affectionately call Porkchop once told me: People may not believe what you say, but they'll always believe what you do. So sorry, Trent Lott. No amount of your, "Oh, P.S., I was just kidding" bullshit is going to save you.

Hey all you Dems out there - write this down in your notebooks: watch what you say. Not that it matters, 'cause the past forty years have spoken to our beliefs, and they haven't changed. But mark down this day as this:

DAY ONE OF CRITICAL ELECTION 2004. That's right, kids. A Watershed Election. Don't know what it is? Look it up. That's what I'm talkin' about.

Oh, and by the PPS: 24 and a half hours counting until us New Yorkers find out whether or not the TWA workers will strike. At the time of this writing, there has been no further action on the negotiations and the TWA representative has said that the talks have gone from "good faith to no faith". That doesn't sound so damn good. WHERE THE HELL IS GEORGE PATAKI? DIDN'T I FREAKIN' TELL PEOPLE NOT TO VOTE FOR HIS DAMN ASS? Now look. Here's where we are. I was specific, I even gave people a candidate to vote for - and I didn't waiver in that. You know what? It's out of my hands. But you know what? It never was in my hands...damnhellass. The end.

My god, it has been awhile.

Well, things here have been pretty good. Okay, they've been alright. Depends on what day you catch me.

I'm actively searching for employment. Maybe one day, I'll post some funny stuff that happened to me on the campaign trail - and yes, there was a lot of FUNNY stuff that happened on the campaign trail.

But let's chat for a minute, Monkay style, shall we? I want you to entertain me - even those of you who don't live in this city - just so that you can see what I fought for during the last six months of my employment.

Maybe this only affects those of us who live in NYC. Actually, I know it does. But for those of you outside of the city, maybe you'll understand.

I wanna talk about this possible MTA "illegal" strike.

For those of you that don't live here, I want you to imagine NYC without its subway system. Too vague? Then think about this: 8 million New Yorkers all live and breathe in this city. Many of us (not including myself since I'm unemployed) work in the borough of Manhattan. This means not just people living in Manhattan, but people that live in the other four boroughs, which include Brooklyn, the Bronx, Queens, and Staten Island. Not including those who live in the suburbs of the city - which include Long Island, Westchester, and Rockland. Now many people that live in this city don't work in Manhattan and work in other boroughs. If they're lucky, they live in the borough that they work in. But let's think for a second about the way that this city is geographically situated, shall we? Let's, for arguments' sake, say that most people work in Manhattan.

I want to make this tangible for all of you who haven't grasped this or don't care to. This is me caring about your knowledge whether or not you live in this city, mmkay? Sharing is caring. Knowledge and understanding are important tools we must have, which is why I feel the need, nay, the responsibility to impart this and make it tangible for you.

Manhattan is an island. One purchased rather cheaply by the Dutch from the Manhattan tribe. There are certain pockets or "areas" that are work places. Wall Street comes to mind. Downtown Manhattan. Midtown Manhattan is a bustling area that is mostly commercial. Now the rest of Manhattan is residential, though the mix of commerical and residential makes New York what it is. I'm thinking Upper East and West Sides, Lower East Side, TriBeCa, The Village, Clinton (or Hell's Kitchen), Gramercy/Union Square, Harlem (proper), East Harlem (Spanish Harlem), Washington Heights - these are what can be considered residential. Now take the actual geographic size of Manhattan - 24 square miles - and it doesn't seem so big, does it?

Now let's size it down. Let's say that I live in the Upper East Side - around 86th Street. Let's say I work on Wall Street. That's easily around 100 blocks.

Now let's say that this strike actually happens and there is no subway service. There is no bus service. 100 blocks in a cab is equal to about $12.00 - but that's if there isn't any traffic or any stop lights - that's going straight and during the day (this means $2.00 fare plus $.30 every three blocks and not including tip - there is a science to those non-New Yorkers out there).

Ah, but let's remember that if there is no bus service and no subway service, people would have to rely on cabs to get them to work. Now let's think about the fact that it's hard to get a cab in Manhattan on the work week in the morning rush as well as the evening rush - let alone the traffic that happens in general in New York. Oh, and if it rains, it becomes five times harder to get one.

Now let's think about everyone taking a cab - that jams the traffic even more. In this cold, people would be crazy to walk to work.

And this is just if you live in Manhattan.

The only ways to get into Manhattan are via bridge or tunnel. It's already hard enough to do that if you live outside of Manhattan and drive into work. Imagine if all the people already in Manhattan had to resort to cab and livery service to get to work, add that to the normal morning rush and you've got REM's "Everybody Hurts" video.

Now let's talk about status quo in the city for a second, shall we?

If my memory serves me correctly from my Coro year, the subway and bus system moves approximately 5.4 million people every day to stops all over the city. Most of these people are going from home to work and back or home to school and back. The rest are just going about their lives, running errands, going to meetings, meeting friends, etc. 5.4 million people - that's just mindblowing. All in a day's time.

And MTA service also encompasses the Metro North and the Long Island Railroad - people who travel from the suburbs I talked about earlier.

Now, if what we said was true earlier, in the event of the subway strike, and you've got cars snarled and not moving at all on the roads and I live on the Upper East Side and work on Wall Street, my only two options to get to work are to: 1, walk, or 2, ride a bike, rollerblade, or razor scooter it.

That is just re-goddammned-diculous.

Are you kidding me? Are you f___ing kidding me? There has to be another way.

Or someone's head is going to roll.

Now the Mayor (who I worked hard to get into the office, by the PS) has offered a few remedies should the situation actually get there. One is to limit all car travel in the city to carpools with four people. One is to suspend alternate side of the street parking (keeps me from moving my car from one side of the street to another at an ungodly hour). Livery cars would be able to to pick up passengers who hail them, like cabs.

I repeat: Are you kidding me? Are you f___ing kidding me? There has to be another way.

Or someone's head is seriously going to roll. Seriously.

I mean, he doesn't have many options. He's gotta deal with it, plain and simple. He's gotta try to talk to the governor about this 'cause the MTA is a state thing. That's right, people, a state thing. But since the Mayor is the Mayor of the city, he's gotta deal with it, so he's gotta be involved. The last time that this happened, the strike lasted for 11 days. I've seen the pictures in the papers - there is a sea of folks out on the street. It was April and it was during the Koch administration.

It is now December, it's freezing cold out there, and there's now 8 million of us. I think it's bad walking through Times Square on a weekend with tourists or on Canal Street on Saturdays in Chinatown.

Are you f___ing kidding me?

If the transit workers go on strike, the City loses something like $311 million a day (think about what would happen if the contingency plan goes into action - the loss in revenue from suspending alternate side of the street parking - read parking tickets - plus loss of commerce from trucks coming into the city - just the tip of the iceberg). How the hell can we afford that when the economy is tanking and we're cutting services left and right in this city?

The truth is this: there is ONE person who can stop this from happening - and one alone. Though the Mayor is involved, like I said the MTA is a state agency.

That would be Governor Pataki.

And he's not doing a damn thing right now. Why? I don't know. Maybe he knows something or is stalling on the negotiation. But what it amounts to is doing a whole hell of a lot of nothing.

Just give the transit workers the damn raise. Just do it. If this city is the economic engine of the state - think about what just one day on strike would do to us. Think about the people who would lose their jobs because they couldn't go to work - and lose them in the worst economy possible. Think about the children who couldn't even go to school because they couldn't get there on time. For crying out loud - think about your goddamn citizens and get off your duff and stop this from happening. Those transit workers deserve it - they don't get paid enough to do what they have to do - have a damn heart and stop this craziness.

And don't let people fool you - the governor is the only one who can make it all dissapear.

But you know what? I just spent 6 months trying to convince New Yorkers to get rid of him, they didn't, and now look. Funny, 'cause I think that Transit Workers endorsed Carl McCall, the candidate I worked for. In fact, I seem to remember a certain press conference on the steps of the New York Public Library - yes, I seem to remember an endorsement on the Working Families line. Yup, something about weilding campaign signs on sticks and losing my already slipping voice on a gray afternoon in the cold. Hmmm.

Hey, politics is politics.

But you know what? I have a baaad feeling this strike is going to happen. The negotiations should, ideally, remain in good faith - but who the hell knows?

All the same, I've got a baad feeling. And you know what? I'm going to need another two people to ride in my car just to pick up my grandmother in Brooklyn so that I can take her to my house in Syracuse for Christmas. And I'll need another two people to ride in my with me just so that I can get back into the city. And I'd better leave now or else the traffic is gonna suck in a week. And guess what I'm gonna say when I'm stuck in three-hour traffic and I've gone a block?

Are you kidding me? Are you f___ing kidding me? There has to be another way. I thought I told people not to vote for that bastard.

GOD BLESS AMERICA.

Keep your heads up high, New York. We are broken, but not bowed. We have been tried, but never defeated. Living in this city, being a part of it, just remember that simply living our lives to the fullest is an inspiration to all.

And to those lost, whose restless souls whistle in the strong wind rippling through Manhattan today - you will never be forgotten in this heart.

"...we will not merely endure; we will prevail. We are immortal, not because we have an inexhaustable voice but because we have a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance."

-Faulkner

I saw ladybugs doing it. I swear to God.

It was last week at Bristol Hills Music Camp.

I swear to you that this story gets better. Yes, I was at MUSIC CAMP in Canandaigua - and it's for vocals, strings, and band instru...oy, nevermind. Fine, I go to band camp. Are you happy? Damnhellass American Pie movies.

Anyway, we're coming back from lunch and I'm headed to the latrine because my cabin had latrine duty.

Seriously, this is a good story, stop laughing.

And two of the other counselors - let's call them Porky and Uh-huh (we have this Little Rascal thing going on) call out, "Hey Keeza, come over here! You gotta see this!"

Trash bags wrapped around my neck and both hands full of toilet paper rolls, I saunder over to where they were bent at the waist peering at the ground. As I arrive, they have this goofy look on their face.

I take a look and see one ladybug and another one underneath it. I squint my eyes and realize that I'm seeing two ladybugs mate. The shrieks of girlish giggles ensues as we all stare at the two ladybugs, each of us shaking our head back and forth and murmuring, "I had no idea they did it like that."

So yes, arts appreciation sleep-away camps are just full of sex-education. It's just that this one was the kind that you'd see monkeys engaging in at the zoo on a hot summer day between them throwing poo.

Enough from my end. Back to work. Oy.