We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Sipp: Marketing, Advertising, and Sales 101. Great video ad for Telluride. Skiied there one week, a few years ago. Great. I hate the chair lifts without bars, though, especially when you're going over canyons. Yikes. I still have the Osprey backpack I bought there for dumping kids' clothing in when it warmed up during the day, and things were shed. You find challenging and exciting skiing there. Same as tennis: keep those knees bent.
The BD family contains avid snorkelers, but only Mrs. BD is a skilled scuba diver. But even snorkeling, she can swim down 20 feet easily to inspect something. Loves it.
But about the peas. On good advice we bought a big bag of frozen peas at the Cabo WalMart, filled a plastic water bottle with them and then added water to the bottle. When you are diving or snorkeling near rocks or a reef, just squirt a few peas out of that bottle. You will be swarmed with tropical fish. Works like a dream. Like tossing bread to pigeons in a park. Fish were crashing into me, some over a foot long, and one bit Mrs. BD while trying to get to the pea bottle. Very cool thing to try. Wish I had had an underwater camera.
We had to go on a goofy party boat to get to a good snorkeling area, and they provided the equipment. Unlimited free drinks. It was jolly. On the way back, Mrs. BD danced the Macarena and YMCA without touching a drop of drink (not a photo of her). I didn't, and I did.
Met the pupette in NYC yesterday to take her to brunch and to take her to look at some Kandinsky at the Guggenheim. Clever of those Guggenheims to buy so many Kandinskys before he became too well-known, but you have to figger they got rich by being perceptive.
Readers know that I am a Kandinsky fan.
Mrs. BD wanted to get lunch first at the Viennese cafe, Cafe Sabarsky, in the Neue Gallery up the street. Having been in Vienna last summer, I can say that it sure feels like Vienna in there. Wonderful. Gallery worth visiting too.
Not that he needs one. There's a line waiting down the sidewalk for supper at Maro's, for his simple menu of grilled shrimp and lobster. And for his Bulldog cocktails. It's like a rustic Cape Cod seafood joint.
It's not our Yankee lobster - it's the lobster that grows down there. Yes, you order by the kilo.
When your FICA tax is taken out of your paycheck, it does not get squirreled away in some lockbox in West Virginia where it's kept until you and your contemporaries retire. Most goes out immediately to pay current retirees, and the rest (say, $100) goes to the U.S. Treasury - and is spent. On roads, bridges, national defense, public television, whatever - spent, gone.
Well, it's our church's Men's Ski (and beer) Retreat weekend at Killington, and I think maybe our Women's Retreat Weekend too somewhere else. But we're just back from 8 days away, so we passed on them this year. I have not skied once this year. Damn shame, because it gives me the greatest joy to wrestle and sweat with a mountain and the trees in the snow and cold. Plus I really need new skis if I intend to stick with this crazy, exhilarating lifelong recreation of mine.
Finishing our Iris week with this tune. It reminds me of Roger McGuinn - another good Jesus freak.
4:1 Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.
4:2 He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished.
4:3 The tempter came and said to him, "If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread."
4:4 But he answered, "It is written, 'One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.'"
4:5 Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple,
4:6 saying to him, "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written, 'He will command his angels concerning you,' and 'On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'"
4:7 Jesus said to him, "Again it is written, 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'"
4:8 Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor;
4:9 and he said to him, "All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me."
4:10 Jesus said to him, "Away with you, Satan! for it is written, 'Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.'"
4:11 Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him.
Catrina dolls and other wonderful death dolls at Mi Casa Restaurant. They are hand-made, of painted clay appropriately enough, and expensive.
Whever I want something but have no use for it and don't want to spend the $, I just take a snap of it. Then I own it, in a way. I am trying to teach Mrs. BD that approach to things - symbolic possession by internalizing an image or idea. But does it work for designer shoes?
You do not have to be Tocqueville to recognize that the fundamental American character has always featured a powerful determination to get ahead, to build a better future on the basis of current effort and sacrifice. It is not sectional ethnic animosity that stands in the way of implementing socialism in the United States, it is the fundamental American character and the values and attitudes that the country was built upon.
We are not Canada, not because we have blacks, but because we are the rebels who threw off the yoke of monarchy in favor of Liberty and individualism, and Canada was, practically speaking, founded by the Tories who preferred being subjects and dependents. We will never be Canada.
It's all about buying votes in Iowa. Ethanol belongs in beer and cocktails. I don't know why they don't call it "alcohol" - or moonshine, because that's what the pols want us to inflict on our teetotaling chain saws, lawn mowers, and outboard engines.
Death, be not proud, though some have callèd thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which yet thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from thee much more, must low And soonest our best men with thee do go, Rest of their bones and soul's delivery. Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings and desperate men And dost with poison, war and sickness dwell, And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then ? One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
...where Hanson says that the opposite of the therapeutic mindset is the tragic worldview, I would say that if therapy sees us living within a utopian world where price doesn’t matter and where consequences don’t count, then the alternative would be a world where thrift rules and where you earn what your work is worth.
As I mentioned earlier, we stayed at Pueblo Bonita Sunset Beach. Nice place. No obnoxious LA celebs, just regular folks but well beyond the also obnoxious college crowd. You can see why I gave it the nickname, because everything there looked like this. Toto, I don't think we're in Maine anymore.
It was intereresting to see our readers' responses to our Dylan poll last week. The guy has done so much good stuff that it's difficult to narrow down.
This is very good, though:
Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quiet? We sit here stranded, though we're all doin our best to deny it And Louise holds a handfull of rain, tempting you to defy it Lights flicker from the opposite loft In this room the heat pipes just cough The country music station plays soft But there's nothing really nothing to turn off Just Louise and her lover so entwined And these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind.
One day last week we drove an hour or two north to Todos Santos. Todos Santos is an artsy oasis village in the desert, with a rare fresh water lagoon a few miles east, just behind the beach. Some Americans and Europeans move there to truly get away from it all for good. Like that retired CIA spook on NCIS.
Our little group had lunch at Posada La Poza, a tiny boutique hotel out in the boonies with a rooftop restaurant. We requested that they make us a mixed seafood platter of whatever they had on hand. They brought us Tuna Tostados, grilled marinated shrimp, fried scallops, and grilled Sea Bass which they cooked rare - as good fresh fish should be cooked. Salad too, with peas and corn in it. Real Mexican food. Margueritas, of course (for the Vitamin C), which they mixed on the strong side:
Here's the outside of Posada La Poza, where they have to turn many people away for lunch despite its remote location. They only have 5 tables for lunch -
Lots of fun pics of that side trip below the fold -
...it is nearly unimaginable that anyone on the left would support subsidizing programming imbued with even a subtle right-center bias. Let's be honest; if NPR weren't substantially left-leaning, Democrats wouldn't be such huge fans of federal funding. The rest of us can listen to, say, Nina Totenberg's slanted dispatches with the appropriate filter.
At 6:30 in the morning the Mrs. was down at the gym while I quietly enjoyed the view from our terrace with my idea of a good breakfast: Mexican coffee, a Cuban Romeo y Julieta, and a little tropical fruit, including avocado.
What it's like to have 
T-shirt via 
Independents 
The invention of adolescence
Juan Williams 