Park Street, 1:24 p.m.

Suddenly, a speech, getting louder --
It's Barack, the S.C. speech.

From where? We stop, listen.

A van drives by slow, megaphoned,
Obama sunrise on its side,
And bursting with campaign signs reading
Hope. Change.

Driver: old, black,
Grinning.

Destination?
The future.

All aboard!

To Maintain A Healthy Level Of Insanity

1. At lunch time, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and point a hair dryer at passing cars. See if they slow down.

2. Page yourself over the intercom. Don't disguise your voice.

3. Everytime someone asks you to do something, ask if they want fries with that.

4. Put Decaf in the coffeemaker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has gotten over their caffeine addictions, switch to Espresso.

5. In the Memo field of all your checks, write "For Marijuana."

6. Skip down the hall, rather than walk, and see how many looks you get.

7. Order a Diet Water whenever you go out to eat.

8. Specify that your Drive-Thru order is "To Go."

9. Sing along at the Opera.

10. Five days in advance, tell your friends you can't attend their party because you have a headache.

11. When the money comes out of the ATM, scream "I Won! I Won!"

12. When leaving the zoo, run towards the parking lot and yell "Run For Your Lives! They're Loose!"

13. Tell your children over dinner, "Due to the economy, we are going to have to let one of you go."

E Pluribus Unum

Obama's South Carolina victory speech.

Money quotes:

The choice in this election is not between regions or religions or genders. It’s not about rich versus poor; young versus old; and it is not about black versus white. This election is about the past versus the future.

And as we leave this state with a new wind at our backs, and take this journey across the country we love with the message we’ve carried from the plains of Iowa to the hills of New Hampshire; from the Nevada desert to the South Carolina coast; the same message we had when we were up and when we were down – that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope; and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can’t, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of the American people in three simple words: Yes. We. Can.

Book Twins

Yesterday on the train, I found myself sitting shoulder to shoulder with a guy who was reading the same book as me. He appeared to be in the first five chapters somewhere; I was around the mid-point of my paperback.

This has never happened before. I hardly ever even see people reading books that I have also read. Sure, I've seen people reading Harry Potter, but I've never been sitting right beside someone reading the exact same book as me.

It made me think about how many books there are out there. And it made me thankful I wasn't commuting during the DaVinci Code craze.

Generation or Gender?

Young female democrats are having a tough time figuring out whether they favor Obama or Clinton. I originally supported Clinton but changed to Obama, and recently have been swinging back and forth.

As a feminist, the possibility that a woman could be the next president is exciting. Who knows how many years it could take for another candidate, with a real shot at winning, to emerge?

Despite that fact, I don't want to throw my vote to Clinton just because she's a woman, especially when Obama seems like the truly radical choice because of the amount of change he promises. I get confused further, however, because while I think this country need big change in a big way, I'm not as clear on where Obama stands on individual issues. So who do I vote for?

This dilemma young women are facing is more eloquently described in this article.

And, in case I haven't said it yet, one of the things I love about this election is that I will be happy with whichever democrat gets the nomination, as well as with many of the republicans who are up for it. So far in my life, I have never felt that way.

In a nutshell

An endorsement of Barack Obama by South Carolina's biggest newspaper nails what is, I think, the most important difference between Clinton and Obama:

[W]e also have a good idea what a Clinton presidency would look like. The restoration of the Clintons to the White House would trigger a new wave of all-out political warfare. That is not all Bill and Hillary’s fault -- but it exists, whomever you blame, and cannot be ignored. Hillary Clinton doesn’t pretend that it won’t happen; she simply vows to persevere, in the hope that her side can win. Indeed, the Clintons’ joint career in public life seems oriented toward securing victory and personal vindication.

Sen. Obama’s campaign is an argument for a more unifying style of leadership. In a time of great partisanship, he is careful to talk about winning over independents and even Republicans. He is harsh on the failures of the current administration -- and most of that critique well-deserved. But he doesn’t use his considerable rhetorical gifts to demonize Republicans. He’s not neglecting his core values; he defends his progressive vision with vigorous integrity. But for him, American unity -- transcending party -- is a core value in itself.

From all the reader comments on blogs and news articles that I spend an unhealthy amount of time reading, it's very clear that a lot of the Democrats who want to fight (and, in some cases, "dance on the graves of Republicans") are for Hillary, and the people who want unity are for Barack. Why there is even a moment's argument about which path is better is absolutely beyond me.

Actors die. Characters live forever.

The problem with actors is that you think you know them, when you don't; you only know their roles. So when I stared agog this afternoon at the breaking news alert proclaiming in bold type Heath Ledger found dead, I couldn't believe it. Conor, the golden-blond lad running around in leather pants in fictional medieval Ireland, who made my highschool heart race, would never kill himself. Neither would Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein, the honorable rock 'n roll knight who'd pause a jousting match to groove to some Queen. And Ennis del Mar, who bore all the tragedies of his life with a heartbreaking grace on Brokeback Mountain, would certainly never overdose on pills. So how could Heath?

It's very sad that a young actor with so much potential is gone. At least Heath's characters will live on. Especially Ennis. Brokeback Mountain meant a lot to a lot of people, me included. Thank you for that, Heath.



More on Heath Ledger in early LCiN posts here and here.

Ode to Triscuit

You must try the new flavors of Triscuit! A while back the Fire Roasted Tomato & Olive Oil flavor caught my attention in the supermarket. My first thought was, of course, that "Fire Roasted" should be hyphenated... but after I got past that, the flavor seemed unique enough to give it a whirl.

Boy, am I glad I did.

In addition to the woefully unhyphenated flavor above, there are Rosemary & Olive Oil and Cracked Pepper & Olive Oil. I recommend the Fire Roasted Tomato, but the Rosemary runs a close second.

I've never been a proponent of Triscuits. The originals are little slabs of bone-dry wheat, and that's about all you can say. But these new kinds are little slabs of bone-dry wheat whose flavor will make you slap your knee and say, "Hot damn!"

Speech

Barack Obama's chief speechwriter, the guy who helps churn out Obama's breathtaking oratory time after time, is 26 years old.

Man that hurts.

New Computing

In the olden days, getting a new computer meant starting over. There was no easy way back in, say, 1998, to move your stuff from an old computer to a new computer. Not that there was much stuff to move -- no photos or music or movies back then -- a couple MIDI files, maybe, or an animated gif or two -- so it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't hard to say goodbye. The exciting new hardware (a modem! a soundcard!) was more important than the files you'd lose.

Today, it's different. I bought a new computer the other day, and with the help of three feet of Firewire cable, the exact contents of my old computer was duplicated seamlessly onto the new one in the space of 45 minutes. Aside from the faster speed and the larger screen, there's no way to tell I've even changed computers.

In the past that would've been disappointing, but I'm no longer looking for a novel user experience. I just want to be sure that the MP3s I've been amassing over the last eight years move safely from computer to computer. And the photos. And all the saved chat conversations that chronicle my life. And all my bookmarks and writing.

Nowadays nobody gets gaga over a new refrigerator -- all they care about is that it keeps their last shard of wedding cake frozen. Computers have gotten like that.

Wiggum '08

A new candidate is entering the presidential race this Sunday evening. Ralph Wiggum, from the land of Springfield, USA.

Never mind his fondness for ingesting paste and crayons, or his baffling ronouncements that have even proponents wondering about his mental faculties. An appearance on the Fox show is enough to give Wiggum a bounce in New Hamsphire; if he wins New Hamsphire, he'll have enough momentum to play in South Carolina. What Ralph Wiggum playing in South Carolina would look like is anyone's guess.

This is the exact kind of current events spoof I've been missing from the Simpsons. I especially appreciate it because I have been missing Presidential Primary commentary from late-night hosts like Jon Stewart, who is been off the air as a result of the writer's strike.

For last night, I have no words.

So here's Barack's victory speech:

A Racoon One-Night Stand

On Saturday morning at 8:30 a.m., we were sitting watching Mike's new Planet Earth DVD when the power went out.

For lack of anything better to do (and sprung from a desire not to leave the couch), we turned our attention to Momma Cat. She was looking intently through the sliding door, up into a tree. We followed her gaze and saw a big fat racoon in a nest.

After watching it for a while, I felt confident in insisting that there were two. Another 15 minutes later, I was proved right. They hunkered down and slept all day. The power came back on, but we checked on them every now and then.
"Do you think they ate the garlic I threw out into the snow yesterday?" I asked Mike.
"You did what?" he said.
"Nevermind... think they'd like an apple? What do racoons eat?"
(I decided against feeding them, having learned a lesson from the bird feeder that quickly created a squirrel problem on our deck.)

I was excited, hoping they were permanent residents of the tall tree and that I could watch them every day. Surely, if they returned, they should get names, I told Mike.

They were still sleeping when it got dark. We went out for dinner and couldn't see whether they were there or not we we returned.


They didn't come back the next morning and haven't been back since. I'm disappointed, but it made me realize how thankful I am that I live in a place where seeing wild animals, even for just one day is possible. One of my favorite things about my four years in Boston was seeing geese, rats and squirrels in the Public Garden. I love the surprise of seeing an animal I don't expect to encounter.

In 2008 I Want To

1. Stop saying I'm going to go the Mermaid Parade and really go
2. Take a picture every day
3. Make more cakes and cookies
4. Send them to people