A Fulfilled Stereotype in the Great Northwest…

A Gen-Xer traveling to Seattle expects three things: rain, Nirvana or Pearl Jam played non-stop on the radio and coffee shops-hundreds, thousands of them-one in every strip mall. While I was in Seattle, it never rained. Pearl Jam and Nirvana were not played on the radio even once that I heard. But there were the coffee shops. Sure, they weren’t in every cranny of the city. But thanks to Starbuck’s they were close enough together that you did not have to drive far to find one.

However, what I wanted was not the corporate swill that I love and get every day back in The Lou. I wanted to find the unique and edgy. The Seattle coffee shop others around the nation emulate. And I did.

Not far from the West Seattle Bridge and near the States Avenues, there is Coffee Diva. Situated right next to an auto mechanic, the building at one time must have belonged to the car man, because two large garage doors are now the windows to the world from inside the shop. A small dog greeted every customer with a bark and the Barista served tea with a smile. Solid wood tables, plush thrones (literally, thrones) and a mannequin in a much better suit were all illuminated by chandeliers which as the light fixtures. It was perfect, even the fact that it didn’t have Internet access (although they advised I steal it from the computer store next door) made it feel more genuine. Every customer was there before I got there, and I was the first to leave. After an hour, I still felt I had not spent enough time there. It was nice to find one of my three Seattle stereotypes fulfilled.

Five Fantastic Feats I Have Seen in Seattle…

An unobstructed view of the Puget Sound from a living room.

Two cats chilling on the roof of a home.

A Sushi chef that does not enjoy being watched.

A La Quanta employee who does not recommend chain restaurants.

A boy with his nanny whose mother is a nanny for a different family

Saturday Night and Drinking, Yet Again…

It is another Saturday night in The Lou. F and I have staked out a booth at The Royal within eyesight of the barstools we had Thursday night. The bar is oddly less than full. Usually, it takes five minutes to make one’s way from the door to the bathroom twenty yards away, but tonight it can be done in under thirty.

A barkeep has come from behind the bar and is teaching a gentleman how to waltz to Patti Labelle and Franz Ferdinand. Two wanna be pols are talking loudly about how they would hanging out with if they were in Washington. They are matched by a couple of women who are each over six-three and spend the entire night walking one end of the bar to the other towering over everyone. At least, the waitresses are drinking here after they get off work. It is always a comfort to be at a place where the workers are willing to turn their wages back to the owner.
The feeling of the night is just dead. No one moves quickly or with any purpose. Even the normal amount of flirting, hardy laughing and public drunkenness is absent. In the end, I realize I don’t need that. All I need is good friends and cheap drinks. Ain’t I simpleton?

A Poll without People....

ABC news released their first invisble primary ranking. While I sort of agree with the results, I think its funny we now decide who is a front-runner without asking normal, everyday voters, because really how can they choose a leader. Anyway, here is the link ABC news polls its own.

One Hundred Percent Irish for One Day…

You gotta love St. Patrick’s day. It is a nationally accepted reason to drink in excess. People over forty take off work and tell their boss they would not be coming because they will be drinking until they vomit. And society accepts it.

It might be the only day where in a bar frat boys, Paris Hilton knock-offs, workers for the Democratic Party, old businessmen, mini-van drivin’ parents and an Irish band drink in complete harmony.

I spent more time in a bar on St. Pat’s than at my office: 5:15-1:15. In the end, we had nine people crammed in a booth. Mathematicians, fund-raisers, graphic designers, Seminarians and publishers all were pulling down as much Guinness as we could.
I wish I could tell you a good story about a girl, a fight, a conversation or anything. But it was just eight hours of meandering conversation mixed in with Irish gigs and hugs from the booth next to us. Because, we are all Irish today, my friends.

The Dark Horses in 2008 Part 1…

So, it has been a long time since a dark horse candidate came out of nowhere to win the nomination. Probably Jimmy Carter was the last such choice. Sure, there have been people who did remarkably well in the primaries and increased there name recognition, but never were able to catch the ultimate prize. Gephardt in ‘88 and Alexander of ’96 rose and fell, burned bright for a moment and then out.

With ’08 being wide-open on both sides of the aisle, we will defiantly get a good look at a number of these dark horses as they try and catch the media and public’s attention and hope a couple primary wins can start a movement.

I am personally intrigued by a number of these people. Though neither of the following people has been given much of chance by the media, I still think that two years is a long way off and who knows what can happen.

Gov. Mike Huckabee is sitting Governor of Arkansas and weight loss king of Presidential candidates. Sure, outside of living a trailer during work on the Governor’s mansion and writing a weight loss book, no one knows much about him. But consider his positives. One, he is a Washington outsider. McCain may have the rogue maverick working for him, but he is still in Washington. If the primaries turn on a fix Washington spin, a popular Governor who has the self-control to drop weight and keep it off could catch some votes. Two, he is a Southerner/Midwesterner-not a bad area of the country to be a GOP Presidential candidate. Three, he knows how to talk to the ‘Moral Majority’ base. He knows their language, but like (primary ’00) Bush and unlike Sen. Brownback he can keep dog-whistle politics. Four, he is willing to work for it, being up in Iowa as much as he has needs to count for something. Then again, he still must find a way to raise money and struggle for airtime over McCain, Allen, Frist, Gingrich, Brownback and every other candidate while still being a Governor of a small state.

Sen. Joe Biden has been telling people he is running for President since CBS called Ohio for Bush. A Senate career that spans over thirty years, a reputation for pompous non-questions of Supreme Court appointees and an unsuccessful Presidential bid in ‘88 would make him appear to be the exact opposite of ‘dark horse’. But considering how few Americans actually know who he is and the long odds most bookies give him, it is fair to call him one. Why in the world would I think he could ‘pass mustard’? Everyone is obsessed with the anti-Hillary. Who is it going to be? The word on the street is it will be a Southerner not currently employed by the government. (Two people fit that description.) If Hillary should falter early, then there could be a rush by the Northern establishment to find another candidate from their region. This would leave Kerry or Biden. Considering how Kerry did last time around, would it not seem to make more sense to sway with the man who has just as much experience is just as Northern, but does not have the stench of recent defeat? Plus, like Huckabee, Biden is willing to work for it and has already started laying groundwork.

Granted, there are great odds neither of these men will accept a Presidential nomination. But then again, in 75 who saw Carter. Hey, who saw Clinton in 90?

I just wanted to place these names out there and see what ya’ll think. Write in; tell me whom you see as a dark horse?

Keep your heads up….

The Tax Man Cometh'

As my friend says, "Everybody hates paying taxes but everyone loves a rebate."

This statement is as true as the death and taxes proclamation uttered by Franklin. What we have found in today's world is that the scheme is now bent. The rebates aren't going to those who need it; rather, it goes to those who make the most.

It is wrong when a CEO is in a lower tax bracket than his assistant who makes a minor percentage of his salery.

I'm not for taxing the rich because they are rich. I am for taxing people the same amount and then giving rebates and breaks to those who need it.

A fair tax system is one that uses taxes wisely and affords assitance to those who need it, not those who give the most to campaigns.

Keep your heads up...

Getting Along With The Other Side


I’m with my friend S watching her alma-mater whip the living piss out of Minnesota.

S is a conservative-feminist who reads Chomky. Obviously, not the average run-of-the-mill Bush supporter by any means, but make no mistake she does support the President and other conservative agendas. Positions of which every few months, we try to convince the other of the insanity of their prospective. However, unlike my ‘talks’ with most GOPers, our conversations surrounding politics or the rationality of domestic wire-tapping does not become an outright shouting match degrading itself until “Fuck You” has been exchanged. Rather, our conversation are much more congenial and generally end up with us trying to combat the other with logic over vulgarity. This and the fact that those conversations only happen once a quarter make me not have fantasies of reporting her deceased to the St. Louis election board thereby canceling out her vote from here to eternity. Instead, most of our time is spent, drinking, her explaining basketball to me, drinking, me explaining boxing to her and drinking.

Though I value or friendship, I do wonder why it is so strange. Why is it that politics in America has regressed to the point that friendship is now based upon political leaning? Why is it that when I meet a new person who boldly profess their GOPer status the first question they ask me is if I would ever vote for Hillary for President? And if the answer is affirmative they roll their eyes and drift to someone else at the party who will agree with them that Senator Clinton is the most evil bitch hell has spat out upon the earth? Or why is that Democratic friends of mine cannot fathom the idea of my sharing drinks with a Bush supporter or anyone for that matter who has not signed a MoveOn.org petition? It has gotten to the point that every friendship is built not upon being Blues fans, frequent watchers of Family Guy or my favorite-drinking. But that it must be one of those things and also and a shared stance on Roe V Wade?

Somewhere, I can’t remember where, I saw a sign that was posted in stagecoaches in the Wild West. It had three simple rules. No Spitting. No Course Language. No Talking Politics. Though, as a reader will tell you from previous posts, I love politics and probably spent ¼ my day contemplating the 2008 horse race, I still think that this Dem-GOP hatred has gone to far. Instead, we need to implement rules like ‘No Talking Politics’ in places like bars, football games and movie theaters. With the rule, we as a nation will realize how much we actually have in common. How many beliefs and ideas we can agree on and that on the other side are friends not foes. Then maybe, just maybe, government won’t continue to be this winner take all game, but what it was went to be a representation of the people striving to improve and protect our country.

Chillin’ at the Holiday Inn…

I couldn’t help but laugh as I read this sign placed on the sink in my room.

Dear Guest,

Due to the popularity of our guest room Amenities, our Housekeeping Department now offers these items for sale.
Irons $40.00
Ironing Boards $30.00
Blow Dryer $30.00
Bath Sheets $20.00
Bath Towels $15.00
Hand Towels $10.00
Face Cloths $5.00

Each Guest Room attendant is responsible for maintaining the guest room items. Should you decide to take these articles from your room, instead of obtaining them form the Executive Housekeeper, we will assume you approve a corresponding charge to your account.
Thank You

A Sad Day….

Yesterday, Team USA lost to Canada in Baseball. Seriously, WTF? Baseball? Hockey, I get. Soccer, I get. Maybe even a game of Canada style football, if they use their professionals and we high school players. But baseball? Our pros vs. their joes. If Team USA doesn’t even make it out of pool A would be the second most disappointing sports related event of the year, next to the dull Superbowl ads. If we can’t beat Canada in baseball, maybe we should go back to using steroids. Hook us up Big Mac! We need your expertise.

An Impromptu Meeting with the Mushroom King



Friday night, C and I are dragging down the streets of Soulard. (For those who don’t know--Soulard is The Lou’s oldest community. Built by the French, destroyed by the flock to the suburbs, now rebuilt by hippies, yuppies and those who love brick homes, it is host to the second largest Mardi Gras in America and the best bars in town.) On a hunch, we go into The Shanty. The inside bar fits maybe thirty with seating for a hundred outside when the weather is nicer.

The average age of the bar is easily twenty years older than C and I. A shaggy dog walks around humping strangers’ legs as his owner dances with women who spin, dip and flay their arms the same as they did at a Dead concert in the sixties. But the vibe is cool, no pressure just drink and dig the lead signer playing base accompanied by an un-miced acoustic and man playing a violin with a cigarette permanently in his mouth.

On my second turn to buy, I walk up to the bar and stand next to a man who has been filling his dance cards with every lady in the place. He was dressed as a mid-management man on the town: Dockers, green long sleeve Polo shirt and a brown hat pulled down low over glassy eyes. Except he is also wearing, a teal-green vest with pink polka dots. He appears to be just another cubicle dweller trying to live out some unspeakable fantasy in the nighttime.

“I’m the Mushroom King.” He proclaims to me.

“Really?” Confused at what I just heard.

“I’m the Mushroom King. I was an eight foot tall Mushroom at Mardi Gras.”

“Good for you.”

“I’m the Mushroom King. But I only dose myself.” He laughs at his joke.

“Nothing for others?” Is this guy trying to offer me drugs?

“Nothing. I just dose myself. Did you see me at Mardi Gras. I was an eight foot tall Mushroom.”

“I was working.”

“You missed it. I’m the Mushroom King. But I only dose myself.”

By this time, I am having a hard time not laughing at the situation. Here is a guy who I would trust to be my investment banker telling me he is the mushroom king of St. Louis.

C walks up and he reintroduces himself.

“I’m the Mushroom King. I was an eight foot tall Mushroom at Mardi Gras.”

C smiles his grin, which causes the other person in the conversation to keep talking; though, he really needs no help.

“Rub my vest.” He invites.

C and I shrug and run our fingers across the piece of fabric he offers. C goes so far as to put his palm down the best.

“Wooo, man. I said rub the vest not the chest.” He giggles and turns to me. “He rubbed the chest and not the vest.”

C and I laugh at him, not with him.

“I’m the Mushroom King. I put stuff in the vest, but you rubbed the chest.”

C and I look down at our fingertips as he repeats the line and laughs at his joke. They aren’t oily nor with any film.

“He rubbed the chest.” He nudges me as C goes to the restroom.

“Yeah,” I say. “Good meeting you Mushroom King.”

“I was the eight foot tall Mushroom at Mardi Gras.” His eyes light up thinking I recognized him from the other day.

After our beers and on our way out the door, we receive a big wave from the Mushroom King. There were never any affects of rubbing the vest, because he only doses himself.

Here Comes Edwards…




(At full disclosure: I volunteered for the Edwards for President campaign in both Iowa and Missouri during the primaries. So if you feel my views are biased, well they probably are.)

Yesterday, a small story circulated the political bloggers. An unsubstantiated poll found Senator Edwards one percentage point behind Senator Clinton in a poll of New Hampshire voters. So far, no one knows, who did the poll and there is a possibility it could be a fake or just incorrect numbers from another poll. However, if any amount of truth is in this poll then the ballgame has shifted.

It has been widely assumed that Senator Clinton has a near perfect shot at being the Democratic nominee. She has the media attention, money, and a popular former President husband to campaign for her. The only hurdle that stood in her way was the hatred that a percentage of America has for her. The thought being that the only reason the Democrats would not nominate her was that she possessed too high of negatives to win the general election.

The ability of the Democrats to win the general election was a centerpiece of the Kerry primary campaign. A war hero couldn’t loose, could he? Was the question raised by so many ads with the Senator from Massachusetts in full army gear. In 2008, over a half-a-dozen potential Democrats have been mentioned by pundits as possible candidates and their positive has always been they are more electable than Senator Clinton. This list even includes Senator Kerry.

For the most part, Senator Edwards has remained in the pack of possible 2008 candidates. Granted he has always been at the top of the ‘other-than-Hillary’ list, but his two positives of winning ability and popularity with independents was overshadowed by Senator Clinton’s huge lead in the polls. With news of this possible poll out of New Hampshire, things can get interesting. With it gone, is Senator Clinton’s advantage of being able to easily roll past the primaries on the sense of invincibility. Money, media attention, and Bill stay in her corner. However, if viable challengers are found, everything but Bill has the ability to decrease.

So, if it becomes a contest between Clinton and Edwards where does this go and who wins? I have no clue. But what I want to see is a real discussion of what it means to be a Democrat and way we vote the way we do. Both Clinton and Edwards have worked hard towards increasing medical coverage for everyone in the nation. Both have solid defense records and can never be accused of abandoning our troops in the field. However, what Senator Edwards brings to the table is the media spotlight on the ones we so easily forget: those locked into a life of poverty. When Clinton talks, I feel, the media spends an excessive amount of time pondering, ‘what she was really trying to say and to whom’. (See the definition of: triangulation and dog-signal politics.) When Edwards speaks the media focuses in programs designed to help raise those out of poverty: education, health care, job benefits, etc.
A rise in the polls for Senator Edwards should be embraced by all Democrats; he provides a wonderful dialog of why being a Democrat is something to be proud of and what direction the party wants to take the nation. In other words, unlike other candidates, he is not the story the message is.

Austin Re-Due



Austin, Texas in the 80s and early 90s was a sight. A city made and thriving on college kids and politicians. The town shifted in weight from 350,000 to 500,000 depending on the time of the year. Constantly, it dieted out and bloated in University of Texas students and agriculture lobbyist from around the state. The feel of the city was young, urban and creative with undertones of deep political dealings affecting the lives of everyone in the state. By 1999 the city was on life support, and by 2004, it was dead. The young and creative had been bought. No longer did struggling musicians of every genre get a start on six street; they had been replaced by clubs blasting out the newest hit to grinding, sweating 18 year old frat boys. The Real World by MtV had overtaken the bohemians by force. No longer did Democrats and Republicans share power, but the right wing GOP had taken over driving intelligent design into schools and Bush into the White House. The city I loved as a boy disappeared as Dell moved in and made millionaires out of all the programmers and little for the Mexican food proprietors who did not need the reputation of a chain to bring in customers.

Landing in Des Moines felt oddly familiar. The airport was too small and a designer hadn’t touched the gates since the mid80s at the latest. The car rental parking lot was shared by long-term parkers and no shuttle was required to get there just a pass through a back door got me to my rental. It was eerily similar to coming home to Austin’s Robert Mueller Airport. Though snowdrifts were still visible, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was back in Austin.

In an hour and a half drive, I was on gravel roads, not driveways, actual roads. It took over ten minutes to drive from small town A to small town B with little sign of life between. It was familiar to my drives North from Austin forty minutes, until black dirt became more popular than pavement.

But there are thousands of small towns, dotting this nation. Though the majority do remind me of the one I grew up in, no city has ever reminded of Austin like Des Moines.

I stayed across the street from Drake University, near an independent video store and guitar shops. A small offering compared to the UT drag, but it wasn’t the University that brought the analogy together.

Nor was it the state capital: an impressive golden building with a nice wide downtown street leading to its steps. Springfield, IL has a state capital to, but it is nothing like Austin.

The restaurants were good. Ignoring the food poisoning I got a Mexican place and the bad oysters at another, Des Moines still served up cold beer and some wonderful pan-Asian dishes. But most of it could be found anywhere in America.

Rather, it was the people who reminded me of Austin. No one seemed to be from Des Moines. For differing reasons, they had come from Nebraska, the Dakotas and outer Iowa to make this city their home. (To be born and raised in Austin is a rarity.) Creativity, urban and idealistic were characteristics they all held, but at the same time it was not Northern intellectualism or West Coast arrogance; instead it was a homely and simple view of the world , their lives and their relationship to others. Their goal was not to be better then others, just be themselves. At the same time, this creativity and idealism were placed not only in culture, but in politics. Though Des Moines may have a growing artistic scene, it remains a place where business can be done during a two martini lunch. The citizens of the Des Moines are the rare combination of power and progressiveness that is much needed in our country.

Austin in the 80s and 90s can never be repeated. But I was happy to find a nice slice of it Des Moines.