Still have not provided the promised update on Dan's wedding. I have not been in a writing mood for some time, but I think I will wait until I get the pictures back so I can post some of them as well. If the pictures came out . . . If I got the right camera . . . Did I mention there was drinking?

Just got off the phone with Adam in Houston. He is coming into town for one of Rich's world famous 4th of July parties. The big question is where to put him. He wants to stay with me or Rob so he can be close to campus and the Warehouse and not have to rent a car. Rob never likes having people over, and there is barely room for me in my place. Everyone else lives on the adult side of town, now, so that is where all the action will be anyway. The Progressive Center is the best possibility. I mentioned that Medea Benjamin had stayed there, and Adam all but insisted that he had to as well.

Well, tomorrow I'm off to Jacksonville with Rich and Grace and Allen for Dan's wedding. Dan was our roommate for a few years at KAOS, so those of us who remain in Tallahassee are heading out. Rich has been having car accidents again, and wants to camp out to save money, so I will be sharing a tent with Allen. Should be the same routine as the last wedding-- get drunk and pick fights with any conservatives we find.

James McMurtry

I posted some time ago about Larry McMurtry, but would now like to take some time to write about his son, James McMurtry. James is a popular musician in Austin and Houston, and has performed many times at the Supper Club in Archer City. My mother sent me one of his CD's some years ago, and the more I listened to it, the more it grew on me. I had listened to country music almost exclusively up until high school, but dropped it fairly quickly. I would hear a song and say "Oh God, not that again!" only to hear the radio announcer say it was brand new. Hearing songs before they come out is not a good sign, so I finally opened myself to other alternatives.

I have not returned to mainstream country, and don't intend to, but one night at the old CowHaus I watched Alejandro Escovedo perform with local musician Pat Puckett. It turned out to be the closest thing to a religious experience I have ever had. Not long after, I received McMurtry's CD, so I was in a frame of mind to give it a fair chance. I have been hooked ever since and have found every one of his album's to be absolutely addictive.

James is not the best singer, but he has a particular talent for writing lyrics, and could probably rival his father for sheer creativity should he ever write a novel. I think most of my appreciation stems from finding something that relates so well to my own experiences and what I am confronting in my life right now. When you realize you have been in a perpetual mid-life crises since graduating high school, it is good to hear something that can make you say "but I'm OK with that."

Another thing that impresses me about James is discovering his politics are similar to mine. Just when he got to a point where he is enjoying more mainstream success, he has come to the conclusion that he cannot keep silent on what is happening in this country, and has joined the ranks of Steve Earle and the Dixie Chicks. His latest "protest song" is available for free download at http://www.jamesmcmurtry.com/. This won't help him in Texas, and may hinder him at a time when he seems to be on the verge of a career breakthrough. All the more reason for me to take my hat off to him. Wait, I don't have a hat. I need a hat . . .

However, politics and talent aside, he would be cool if only for the fact that he is willing to put up with my relatives.

GOP Congressman Comes to Pelosi's Rescue

WASHINGTON - It was a Cinderella story, Capitol Hill style. Starring as Prince Charming, freshman Rep. Dave Reichert dropped to his knees Thursday in the midst of a news conference and handed over a beige leather slingback that House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi lost during Wednesday's hasty evacuation of Congress.

Cinderella? Or maybe Hound of the Baskervilles . . . ?

British Elections

I think the British elections turned out very well. Labour stays in charge, the Liberal Democrats took a small step forward, and the Conservatives continue their journey to irrelevancy. Blair was properly chastised for his role in the Iraq war, but the voters, to a certain extant, maintained their trust with Labour's record on other issues. One thing I had not considered was the number of anti-Blair rebels that would remain in Parliament. Apparently enough of them survived to make things very difficult for Blair if continues his quest to be Bush's dog. We may have to add a Blair Deathwatch to the Delay Deathwatch.

Filibuster Frist!

Good going Princeton! I would like to think we would have been clever enough to do something similiar had the occasion arose at FSU.

http://www.filibusterfrist.com/

Frist v. The Kitties

Stick a fork in Frist, I think he's done. Unable to deliver on the nuclear option (a term coined by Trent Lott I belive, and not by the Democrats), and facing a great deal of criticism by the business leaders of the Republican party for jeopardizing other priorities, things are looking bleak for his Presidential aspirations. Apart from the fact the Senators make lousy presidential candidates, he has effectively alienated the supporters with money by going after the supporters that are increasingly out of the mainstream.

I began paying attention to Frist when it looked like he was the first definite Rep. to be thinking about 2008. A search in Lexus Nexus has turned up more evidence of just how bizarre our public leaders are. From the Washington Post, 24 September 1994, page A-10:

Critic of 'Bleeding Hearts' Exhausted Supply of Felines

by Al Kamen

"I was, for the first time in my life, making original discoveries. No one else in the history of man had ever done exactly what I was doing, and I would be able to report my findings to the scientific world in some respected and scholarly journal. The way I acted, you would have thought my project, really very basic, was some grand breakthrough. As I watched the little strip of muscle beat hour after hour through the night in the basement of the hospital, I felt quite pure, as if I were reaching out and touching some eternal truth of nature.

"But my experiments were brought to a halt when I lost my supply of cats. I only had six weeks to complete my project before I resumed my clinical rotations. Desperate, obsessed with my work, I visited the various animal shelters in the Boston suburbs, collecting cats, taking them home, treating them as pets for a few days, then carting them off to the lab to die in the interests of science. And medicine. And health care. And treatment of disease. And my project.

"It was, of course, a heinous and dishonest thing to do, and I was totally schizoid about the entire matter. By day, I was little Billy Frist, the boy who lived on Bowling Avenue in Nashville and had decided to become a doctor because of his gentle father and a dog named Scratchy. By night, I was Dr. William Harrison Frist, future cardiothoracic surgeon, who was not going to let a few sentiments about cute, furry little creatures stand in the way of his career.

"In short, I was going a little crazy."