11:09 Sunday morning and I’m starting this blog posting, shooed into my office as effectively as an uninvited folksinger would be shooed away from a gathering of Ezra Pound aficionados. Behind the shoo is the face of Newt on This Week with George Stephanopoulos on ABC. Newt and #43 don’t appeal to me when I’m sober and they appeal to me even less when I’m not. So for the first time, I’m backing away from a terrific news program host simply because I can’t bear to gaze onm the thuggy countenance of his guest.
I’ll return to the show (which I can hear as a dull murmur in the nearby living room) after the coverage of Bill Clinton’s world-saving effort is over, and the analysis panel comes on: usualy George Will, Cokie Roberts, Sam Donaldson and if we’re lucky Fareed Zakaria (probably mis-spelled. This is a blog. For a paid column I would confirm correct spelling.). Too many featured guests sound like hucksters for toxin removal elixirs who promise incredibly long deposits, at the bottom of your toilet bowl, of waste residue from last night’s dinner and bed time snack. I have lost my stomach for that kind of chaff. I want the wheat.
I’m even down to only two “must reads” in the State Journal-Register’s excellent “funnies” section: Opus and Doonesbury. And sometimes For Better or Worse. I used to read Hi & Lois, Beetle Bailey and Frank & Ernest regularly, but they seem like Lawrence Welk re-runs these days. I miss B.C., Calvin & Hobbes, Tumbleweeds and Boondocks.. I’m still glad I subscribe to the SJ-R.
Too much of what’s happening today, from my perspective close, if not buried, in the haze that wafts across the earth, from ground level to 50 feet up, like a dust storm of incidental acrimonies, happens in a stratum beyond my concern. I believe in local politics because I can see cause and effect. It’s more immediate. National politics is wonderful, but I care less about how the grain of wheat was planted, the board room arguments about what kind of genetic resistance should be engineered into next year’s seed stock, how many distributors to retain next year and who to close, the need to replace what percentage of delivery vehicles and from local or foreign brokers . . . . . and I care more about what’s in the bread I’m about to eat: the near term concerns that won’t come to my table until after Iowa and New Hampshire votes. I believe in knowing what’s going oin across the world because I want to know the wolf is coming long before he scratches on my door.
I’m going to start listening to my CDs more often.
They are halfway through probably six minutes of commercials following the Clinton presentation, and the round table is coming up. Time to return to the living room.
Live long . . . . . and proper.
