Other Important Announcements

1.  In a victory for gender parity, the Angels will be giving out bags to whoever wants them and is over 18 as a part of their Mother’s Day promotion this weekend.  Hurray and thanks to the Anonymous Gender Parity Expert for alerting me to the story.

2.  One fun thing about knowing me is that there’s always weird shit of one sort or another happening.  So, the playwright I’m always telling you about is working on a play about faith and doubt and she wonders if she might use some of what y’all said in the play.  You’d be anonymous, of course, and uncompensated.  If that still doesn’t bother you, let me know and I’ll let her know.

Who is this Bob Corker?

Let me just say that I’m going to vote for Harold Ford, no matter who the Republicans throw up against him.  And I’m going to vote for him precisely because he comes from a family that is so outrageously corrupt that you actually ought to spell corrupt c-o-r-f-o-r-d-r-u-p-t and just let the Ford be silent when you say it.

But I’ve been watching the Republican Senate race shape up, from a disinterested distance and today, as I discovered via Brittney, it has reached a messy, gross low.

Yesterday, our resident conservative political pundit, Kleinheider said:

Can there not be diversity of politics within the gay community?

I mean it’s possible to be gay and a Republican. In fact, it’s possible to be gay and against gay marriage.

Criticize her politics all ya want but don’t impugn her for having them because she is gay. Mary Cheney is entitled to be gay AND have a political perspective you disagree with.

Today, I’d ask Kleinheider to take a long hard look at that video.  Yes, it’s possible to be gay and a Republican, but there comes a point, when the Republican party repeatedly treats gay people like a joke and being gay as an insult, when one has to wonder what the fuck is wrong with gay Republicans. 

You want to be a gay conservative?  More power to you.

But to identify yourself with a political party, like this one, that widely circulates a video that has as its whole premise–I mean, clearly, the underlying joke is–that Corker and Sundquist are, as the kids say, butt-buddies?

I’ll never understand that.  The casual contempt this video shows for gay people, and the outright contempt measures like the upcoming Marriage “Protection” Act show, makes it impossible for me to understand why conservative gay people would still identify as Republicans.  And if Mary Cheney is going to identify herself as a gay activist AND identify herself as a Republican, everyone who can put two and two together and get four has a right to call her on that bullshit.

Because it is bullshit.

And I reckon she knows that too.

As for the Blogging for Bryant folks? “It’s really funny (and true).”  Feh.  I’ve got no words for you.

Important Announcements

Nashville and welcome guests, if you’re driving in West End Avenue between I-440 and Vanderbilt, the right lane is the unofficial Starbucks entrance ramp.  I know it’s not marked, but that’s clearly what it is.

If you don’t want to go to Starbucks, don’t get in that lane.  If you are stuck in that lane, behind all the traffic that is waiting for its turn in the drive-through at Starbucks, when you realize what’s going on, do not whip out into the center lane without looking to see if I–or any other driver–might be right there.

Thank you.

Also, speaking of people who drive down West End, Busy Mom, if your haunted Barbie Jeep catches the fancy of the Ghost Hunters, you must let me come over and ogle Grant.  Please.

The Three Men We Saw On Our Walk, In Order of Interest

1.  The spry little guy we see almost every day, with his neatly trimmed beard and his backpack.  He’s always going somewhere in a pleasant hurry, but weirdly enough, if we walk slow enough, we catch him coming back from there, too.  I’m so curious as to where the spry backpack guy goes with his backpack.

2.  The guy with his chocolate lab.  The guy was sauntering down the street, in house slippers and plaid pajama bottoms and a blue bathrobe.  He had a coffee in his right hand.  His chocolate lab was sauntering next to him.  I don’t know.  Do you ever see a person and his dog so clearly right on the same wavelength, where there’s nothing else but him and his dog and the walk that they’re on?  And to even look at them feels a little bit like you’re intruding but you can’t look away because there’s something so beautiful about them?  That was these two.

3.  Gary.  I hadn’t met Gary before, but apparently he’s lived in the neighborhood twenty-five years.  He stopped his car to admire Mrs. Wigglebottom and to introduce himself.  Gary has a whole car full of trash that seems to be carefully sculpted so that only he fits in the car and so his legs will only go to the pedals.  He claims that his house is the same way.  I will take his word for it.

He wanted to listen to me talk, so that he could guess where I was from.  He thought Nebraska and I thought, “Argh, then I guess I was doubly wrong for trying to kick Nebraska out of the Midwest.”  He says he didn’t have an accent either–Army brat–before his tongue got paralyzed.  It turns out that Gary cut his tongue off somehow and, since having it reattached, he’s had trouble speaking clearly (though, honestly, I hadn’t noticed) and sometimes drools (again, so he says.  I didn’t see any drool.).  He used to be in radio and he used to be a musician and when he scratched Mrs. Wigglebottom’s butt, you’d have thought she died and went to heaven.