Mitt Romney can finally claim victory in Iowa after beating Rick Santorum – that’s right, Rick Santorum – by eight votes – that’s right, eight – and move on to New Hampshire next Tuesday. He’ll win there, also, and eventually be the Republican nominee whether they want him or not. I complained in 2000 about folks who voted for George W. Bush because they thought he was the kind of guy ‘you could sit down and have a beer with.’ I wanted voters to set the bar higher and not end sentences in prepositions. Now, if you asked me why I dislike Romney, I could get all specific and wonky but the truth is I just don’t want to hang out with the guy, ever. What I want to do is mess up his hair while swearing like a truck-driver, tell him dirty jokes, and see him fail again at his desire to become president. The more failures he accumulates, the better I’ll feel about myself, which I realize has no bearing whatsoever on whom should lead the country. But seriously folks, guys like Romney – with his privileged upbringing, his incredible business success, his pretty blonde wife, his movie star looks, his five handsome sons, his enormous wealth – how can we live with our inferior selves if he gets to put another notch in his belt? And while I realize ambition is a requirement for anyone seeking the highest office, it cannot be Reason #1. Like Sarah Palin before him, calling himself President Romney is more important to Mitt than leading us out of darkness. On that note, I’m hoping against hope that Sarah finds her way back to us as his running mate. Wouldn’t that be fabulous?
Holy moly! Downton Abbey! In my 2011 year-end wrap up, I told of a dismal, anemic television viewing schedule that had me adding just one new show – “Homeland” – to my DirecTV queue. How could I possibly have forgotten about my addiction last winter to the Brits and their ridiculously entertaining lives in pre-World War I England, the Earl of Grantham, his three daughters, Maggie Smith, and the grand estate of this flawless PBS series? How?! Who cares?! What matters is that they’re all back this Sunday night in part two and by all accounts (or at least one: the Chicago Tribune), we will not be disappointed. Seriously friends, there’s a damn fine reason this show won the Emmy last September for best mini-series. It’s that good.
Do you shop at Forever 21? My daughter asked about the John 3:16 they have printed at the bottom of every bag and I told her it was a Bible quote, the most famous. I Googled my curiosity and discovered it’s a demonstration of the Forever 21 owner’s Christian faith, according to Wikipedia. Goldie had a gift card she wanted to redeem; otherwise, I can’t stand the store. The pants sell for about a dime and the shirts are a nickel. They last ten and five washings respectively and I wonder what the conditions must be like in the sweatshops where the clothing is manufactured, undoubtedly in China. What’s Christian about that?
Do you believe in karma? What about appliance karma? What about the negative energy that skulks through a home every seven to ten years and infects all the machines that we’ve come to depend upon for clean clothes, hot meals, and cold milk? Three months ago, the dryer needed a new belt. Big deal. Then right before the holidays, it needed a new liver or kidney or something, which was more expensive than a new dryer so off to Home Depot I went. Three weeks ago, the food in the extra fridge started spoiling. Three days ago, the oven stopped getting hot. There’s now a Russian man in my kitchen wearing goggles and an odd look on his face. Is there any chance he’ll know why my minivan clicker that locks and unlocks the car doors from afar is suddenly no longer working? If the coffee maker goes next, I’m calling a karmic professional to adjust my appliance chakras.
How’s 2012 going so far?