2008: Churchill Was Right

It was supposed to be a quiet year for Fearless Leader.  Everybody knew everything they needed to know about the man.  Reminders would serve only to make John McCain’s task more difficult.  As it was, the Ancient Mariner could not shake loose from the albatross.  But, Bush’s intentional absence probably saved the Geezer from a more vicious beatdown.  So give the man credit.  He did not make a disaster worse than it already was.  The man can be taught after all.

Anyway: what Bush did do essentially ran to form.  For a guy who is not known for his agility in language, “enhanced interrogation techniques” was such a lovely turn of phrase.  Vetoing a ban on such tactics allowed him to cling to that fiction just a little bit longer.  And the explosion in gas prices gave him a pretext for pushing for more drilling, the environment be damned.  And the dodging of subpoenas and the asserting of executive privilege and so on and so on. 

And, finally, the last straw.  The economy was, supposedly, the only strong point left, as the job market — notwithstanding the shift from manufacturing to service jobs, with worse pay, benefits and job security — was still hanging in there.  But, after years of lax regulation and oversight, the economy imploded.  He feebly tried to talk his way out of it, but nobody was listening anymore.

The bottom line?  Dubya was never one for polls — which is a good thing, because he reached the depths of his unpopularity just as people were getting ready to decide who his replacement would be.  And yet, despite it all, he summoned up the gumption to openly mock “the angry Left” at the Republican National Convention.  He, of course, was within his rights.  How could anyone have cause to be angry with him? 

There are about seventy different versions of this quote, but this one sounds about right:

America can always be counted on to do the right thing, after it has exhausted all other possibilities.

Amen to that, brother.

139 Comments

The frightening thing is that there might be just enough material for a 2009 entry.

@nojo: He’s got 40 plus hours to fuck something else up.

What will be interesting is the pardon list. What will be even more interesting is if he keeps it secret, which I think is a stunt he can pull.

blogenfreude: You want stunts? I’ll give you stunts.

1. Get Bush, Cheney, Condi and Mukasey, and Chief Justice Roberts in a room.

2. Bush signs a pardon for Cheney.

3. Bush hands pardon to Mukasey, who acknowledges receipt by signing it or something. Crucially, he brings, and uses, a time stamp.

4. Mukasey hands pardon to Cheney.

5. Bush signs letter of resignation.

6. Bush hands letter to Condi, who signs it or something. Asks politely to borrow Mukasey’s time stamp for a second.

7. Roberts swears in Cheney.

8. Cheney pardons Bush, hands pardon to Mukasey, etc.

It would take, maybe, four minutes. And all of it would be perfectly legal.

@chicago bureau: That would be a Clusterfuck for the Ages.

@chicago bureau: It would only surprise me a little.

And thank FSM the pregame is starting – I was about to catblog. It’s that bad.

Jack Black is at the Lincoln Memorial today?

And which performer will the sharpshooters take out?

And would someone please explain to me why this Jillian Reynolds person is on television? Has she accomplished anything other than surviving breast augmentation? Have I missed something?

@blogenfreude: I was wondering this AM whether playing pickup sports as a kid, without any pesky adults around, improves one’s interpersonal problem-solving skills. You have to be able to deal with the issues of: I got you!! You did not!! for the game to be able to go on. And avoid serious fights, etc.

Well, that’s nice of HBO to run its Exclusive! Concert! Coverage! on a free cable channel. MSNBC is not The Place for The Boss.

@Dodgerblue: I think anything done without helicoptering parents is a good thing. It also helps to grow up in a relatively sleepy burg, so there’s not much for parents to worry about.

Mary J. Blige has a very becoming white-on-white-on-white-on-white thing going.

And here’s a good moment to observe: Thank gawd no Fleetwood Mac.

blogenfreude Help me out. Is there any real reason to watch the NFC Championship Game? I seriously don’t see either of those teams beating the Stillers or the Ravens.

@nojo: The Boss! I tuned in just in time. This could have an effect on my football watching.

@Dodgerblue: I think I’m going to enjoy this concert a lot more than suffering through Rick Warren.

I don’t know what was worst — Tom Hanks fumbling his way through the Lincoln Portrait, Marisa Tomei quoting Reagan, or James Taylor faking playing an electric guitar with an acoustic guitar on playback. Rough patch, this.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve always wanted to shout out a speech from the Lincoln Memorial! Wilmington! Wilmington, where you at?”

@chicago bureau: I’m going to be very generous at the moment, if only because John Legend pwned James Taylor.

@nojo: I’m also a goddam sucker for gospel backup choirs.

A Marion Anderson shoutout? I don’t think we’re in Kennebunkport any more.

@chicago bureau: Cardinals’ receiving corps could pull it out if they get past McNabb. If dah Iggles get to Stupor Bowl, depends on which McNabb shows up. Plus, McNabb is getting all day to pass – offense excellent so far – we’ll have to see if that changes. My prediction is they’ll start to get to him.

@chicago bureau: This is what American jurisprudence is all about: enabling organized crime.

@blogenfreude: Mrs. DB said “who’s that little guy,” referring to the Eagles’ kicker. Man, he drilled that thing.

Herbie — use the fucking tone wheel. You’re out of tune. How the mighty have fallen.

I hope they wash those earpieces backstage before they trade them around.

This truly is an historic moment: Tiger Woods without a Nike logo.

Tiger Woods? Seriously? If he skipped his rehab sessions for this, well… I just can’t say.

Give now, give generously, to Jerry’s kids.

Dodgerblue: I was more disturbed by Will.I.Am throwing a Bob Marley impression without any real need.

News: Renee Fleming (whoever she is) and the Navy Glee Club? I never knew they were Liverpool fans. There’s only one Steve Gerrard! He’s better than Frank Lampard! Etc.

Jesus, what an arm on McNabb.

Rosario Dawson: hey, busy after your talk?

Ladies and gentlemen, Jack Black and Kyle Gass.

Fixed.

And nojo, for every donation that we get in the next five minutes, it will be matched, dollar for dollar, by the good people at Hormel.

I know some people have been waiting and watching us here but have been thinking, “other people are going to donate and it will be fine.” Listen — you are other people to everyone else. Make that call right now.

[ADD: DEVELOPING HARD: There’s been a Garth Brooks sighting.]

Okay, a Wave among hundreds of thousands of people is pretty fucking impressive.

@chicago bureau: Can I Hope for a ban on cowboy hats the next four years? That’s Change I can believe in.

Thank FSM Garth Brooks is off the stage.

Dodgerblue: And Ashley Judd is on the stage.

Roll your mind around this: Wynonna Judd is related to her.

I’ve had it with these motherfucking snakes in this motherfucking White House!

Wait. Stevie gets one song, and Garth gets like 3? WTF?

Whoa — when did Adam Clayton turn grey? That’s what I get for ignoring them since Rattle & Hum.

Do you think that Edge ever wanted to go Tonya Harding on Bono? I’ll put money on it. “He gets to go globetrotting, and I here just wearing a knit cap? Wanker!”

[ADD: Did Bono just reference the IRA, the IDF and Hamas in the same breath? Black Eagle looked nonplussed.]

@Dodgerblue: And Bono gets a double. What, no time for “Don’t You Worry ’bout a Thing”?

@chicago bureau: Coming up: Bono rips the Pope’s picture in half.

nojo: No time for that — he has to get in time to make love to the camera.

I wish I had a bass rig like that. Must be 1,000 watts going into those stacks.

And here comes the Bald Eagle’s protest speech against anti-bird bias in the media, per recent coverage of the Miracle on the Hudson.

Next they haul out a Pyramid with an Eye, symbolizing the American Economy Ponzi Scheme.

Who does Barack Obama think he is, standing in front of a temple with marble columns?

Is this a campaign speech? Barack — you WON.

Oh, there’s the Commie. Now the truth comes out.

The Boss is back! And Pete Seeger!

Listen closely, gang — these are the lyrics you never hear, and what the song is really about.

nojo: I’m sorry. Pete Segger’s hat = fashion don’t.

Man the Iggles are sucking today. Maybe that’s a good sign for the other team from PA.

SanFranLefty: Maybe? I trust the Cardinals as far as I can throw them.

Meanwhile, Beyonce: “Oh bootyful for spacious skies…” Awesome.

@chicago bureau: Pete Seeger can wear whatever the fuck he wants, and unplug whoever the fuck he wants.

Fuck. Haul out John Roberts and a bible and do it now.

@chicago bureau: @nojo: @Dodgerblue:
WTF are you watching? Isn’t anyone watching the Cards spank dah Iggles?

Wait — did I miss something? The Bishop? Wha happened?

@nojo: “That’s the side for you and me!”

@blogenfreude: that’s what the “last” key on the remote is for.

blogenfreude: DVR — I haz it. And the actual “game” that actually “means something” is on later tonight.

Have switched over to football. Hoping the Boss will show up in Pittsburg.

Well, that was fun. Back to jazz.

KSDS, local station. They have an online feed at jazz88.org.

@blogenfreude: The Lincoln Memorial concert, which HBO was running on a free cable channel here. Repeats later today, although I don’t know whether the rerun’s a freebie.

CARRRRRRRRRDDDDDDNNNNNNAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!

/carry on

@Jamie Sommers: tee hee. I’m sitting in a living room in the Philly suburbs quietly rooting for Arizona.

Yay Sport!!Woo hoo!!! Go Team! Win the Sport!!!!!!

I am such a jock.

@Benedick: Not even cricket or rugby? Or football? (the real football of Man U and Chelsea, not the thing with the oval shaped ball played in the NFL)

@SanFranLefty: Never play cricket Sport unless you bring a book to read during the game. However, as before stated: good costumes.

Football? Why would grown men run around in the middle of winter wearing shorts? Rugby? Just an excuse to get blind drunk and pour beer down ladies tits.

Nice downfield block. Eagles making a run at it. Keep throwing to the white guy.

Fly, Eagles, Fly,
On the road to victory.
Fight, Eagles, Fight,
Make a touchdown 1, 2, 3.
Hit ’em low,
Hit ’em high,
And watch our Eagles fly.
Fly, Eagles, fly,
On the road to victory.
E-A-G-L-E-S
EAGLES!

@Jamie Sommers: Can you believe it?

/back to reviewing “Deer Processing for the Sportsman”. I have an elk hind quarter to cut up today for steaks, ground meat and for stewing and jerky.* I got it for sighting in a rifle for my brother yesterday (and outshooting some guys with custom AR-15s at the range in the process). Also, my family’s freezers are all full up back home where I was at earlier today for the tribal gun inspection I posted about Friday night.

@Jamie Sommers: Uh-oh. Philly is looking like the Phoenix now.

*Also splitting 125 lb of Colorado home raised beef that a friend is picking up in Durango today.

FFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!

Plus, McNabb had all day to throw.

AZ is leading … Iggles is TEH SUXXOR!

Ohmyfuckinggod! Is this happening? Is this realy happening?

Are you people seeing this??? Is someone fucking with my television???

@Jamie Sommers: Plenty of time for the Cards to fuck it up, but it’s looking pretty good for your team right now, missy…

@redmanlaw: Mmmm, elk burgers. Sounds yummy.

@Benedick: More Joy of Rural Living: The elk are coming down from the mountains looking for food and have been at my father’s hay stack for the past few nights. On was bedded down by a fence at our pasture when my brother went out to check out the depredation.

I’m making cake. CakePHP, that is!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Okay, fine. Be that way.

Just drove up from Virginny, late nite drinking with old friends and fantastic Vietnamese food, brunch at a Greek diner and a tour of Arlington cemetery where Lee’s house was temporarily closed due to some bigshot or other. Also, something was gonna happen around the Lincolm memorial, and lots of traffic but I got back just in time for Sport.

That’s Pittsburgh with an “h”, y’all.

Missed a meet-up with MellBell. The youngsters get up pretty damn early these days!

ADD: Just after seeing JFK’s eternal flame, I wondered aloud if RFK was buried there as well. A kind park service guard came up to me ten minutes later and showed us where. Surprisingly modest for Bobby, but the quotations in marble are the bestest.

ADD2: Snapped a pic next to Medgar Evers’ grave. I had me the sniffs this morning.

@JNOV: Send her a cheesesteak in the mail.

@redmanlaw: There’s a movement afoot to reintroduce them here. The deer and turkeys have done very well. The coyotes get closer every year (ducking to avoid flying Sport ball) so I don’t see why not elk (talking over screaming Sport fans). One of them wandered down the main street of a local village couple of years ago and made a sensation. Next thing you know PETA will re-name them forest-kittens or something.

P.S. We’ve got a foot and a half of snow.

@nabisco: Medgar Evers is buried in Arlington? I didn’t know that.

@Jamie Sommers: Congrats, sugar! Will it be the Jamies v. the Nabiscos for Super Bowl?

@Benedick: Elk are majestic animals. There is nothing like hearing a bull bugle up in the mountains on a cold fall morning. Also turkeys conversing in the woods, especially in response to your call. The soft splash of a trout rising. The tramp, tramp of a deer moving through the ponderosas. The silence of snowfall in the pines next to a river while flyfishing in late winter . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pYzWmKlZtrU

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I’d just like to thank Larry Fitzgerald, whose picture will now be enshrined above my bed. Ken Whisenhunt for actually bringing a winner to town. And Donovan McNabb for constantly choking when it matters.

(Just kidding, JNOV. I feel for you.)

Last, and certainly least, I’d like to thank Jerry Jones. I was a lifelong Cowboys fan until he signed Terrell Owens and I had enough of that asswipe turning America’s Team into America’s Most Wanted team. I said I’d rather root for a bunch of losers. Well, my birds are going to the Super Bowl baby! And you can suck it, Jones!

@SanFranLefty: I like the sound of that!

@Benedick: No elk here in Santa Monica. But we’ve got deer, coyotes, raccoons, possums, and crows big enough to haul away a VW. There are occasional cougar sightings in our local hills (mountains to y’all in the East) but I’ve never seen one. There are bears in the next range to the north, about 15 miles away.

Nice Garand M-1 the honor guard was holding. I like a dull finish on a wooden stock myself, however.

@Jamie Sommers: Fitzgerald was amazing.

@Dodgerblue: I think Santa Monica has a fair amount of the other type of cougar, too.

@SanFranLefty: As long as the cougars stay away from 24, I’m happy.

@SanFranLefty: And pretty. Don’t forget pretty. I think my panties fell down when he smiled at the end there.

@nojo: I know I should expect to be discriminated against as a PC user, but could you be a sweetie and put a few breaks in Jamie’s Sport euphoria so my browser stops freaking out? Kthnkbai!

@SanFranLefty: Didn’t they exhume Evers a few years ago to gather evidence for his cold case murder? I thought I recall hearing that he was strangely preserved considering how long he’s been in the ground. Maybe Arlington soil has special properties.

@Jamie Sommers: No worries! I’m happy for you. Seriously. The last thing this city needs is a repeat of the hooliganism of the world series.

@SanFranLefty: Yeah. They are drinking non-fat lattes up on Montana Ave.

@nabisco: No, lunch in Philly instead.

The ground can’t cause an incomplete!! What the hell?

@flippin eck: Explorer 6, I presume?

Those wide-body entries are supposed to disappear into nothingness, but Explorer 6 doesn’t know the meaning of “hidden”.

@SanFranLefty: If a player is not “down by contact” then the ground can cause a fumble. An easier example is if a runner has the ball, slips, and the ball comes loose when he hits the ground. That is a fumble. I think the rule is the same for complete/incomplete pass calls.

@flippin eck: PC user here. No problems at all w/stinque.com running firefox.

No seals were harmed in the creation of this post.

@Benedick: You may be the only one who can appreciate this, but the only time I was dragged to a major league baseball game I took a copy of Vogue. Luckily, it was KC, and by the end of the 7th they were so far behind that my brother said we could go. Since it was the 3-inch-thick August issue, I didn’t get bored at all.

@nojo: @redmanlaw: Okay, found a Non-Standard Tag that should make Explorer 6 behave with those woo-woos (and long links).

Geeks hate Explorer 6, but it still has 20 percent of the market. You spend half your time making your site look nice, and the other half making IE6 behave.

@Mistress Cynica: My wife does that at games as well (Pirates, doncha know). It’s only when she reads at our kids’ games that I say anything.

@nabisco: I’m so glad I don’t have to do the kids’ sports things. I would be the bad mommy with the copy of Vogue and and a G&T in a Starbucks cup.
BTW Fashion Fans, our girl Michelle looked FAB-U-LOUS for the concert thing (I didn’t get to hear it but I saw the photos). The black-lined camel coat over a matching camel skirt and black sweater with the black pumps, gloves, and scarf was to die. Classic and perfect. Le sigh.

@nojo: All better, thanks! I’m glad my laziness in upgrading is helping keep you on your toes.

@flippin eck: On the other hand, Opera users are on their own. I have my limits.

@Mistress Cynica: I take a thermos of coffee and all kinds of reading matter. During the early years, when all the kids just sorta aimlessly move about hitting, kicking, throwing, whatever ball is involved, there is little to see of interest, except maybe the other parents and their wierdnesses.

But now suddenly, at the 8 to 10 age bracket, the kids are suddenly quite good, lately, my son’s basketball games are riveting, the little guys know their positions and what they are supposed to be doing, some of them amazingly so, and its intense. Prom Juniors foul shot provided the winning margin yesterday, 15 to 14, yay Red Team.

@Mistress Cynica: On the odd occasion that I was forced to indulge in cricket Sport I would always carry a book to read during the game. Unless you’re fielding close you have endless amounts of time, when you’re not trudging from one end of the pitch to the other at the end of every over (don’t ask), to get some reading done.

I was, however, a fairly fancy fencer. Sport at its most effete.

@Promnight: Yeah, the 8 year olde start showing skill. My boy’s b’ball team got crushed yesterday at the only game I’ve missed, and he had no points, no boards. They don’t shoot free throws yet, but jump balls are a laugh riot. The parents are indeed insufferable.

Steelers win!!!!!

@Benedick: Benedick, the most civilized sport in the US, I believe, is softball. Mixed gender slow pitch softball. Its like baseball for couch potatoes, I played it in the law school league, on law firm teams, on a team of young lawyers.

Its all about the beer. The only time its considered bad form to actually have a beer in your hand is when you are batting. In the outfield, you would put your beer down carefully in the grass when each batter came up, and hope you didn’t knock it down running for a ball. Style points for catching the ball in your gloved hand while still holding your beer in the other hand.

And like golf, no matter how bad you are, every now and then youu would get one great hit, make one great play, and Yay, you are like a god! And drunk!

Are there any golfers here? That is the attraction of golf. The difference between the pro and the average amatuer, in golf, is not physical ability. I can hit a drive over 300 yards, thats Tiger Woods territory. The difference is, he hits all his drives 300 yards, I do it once per round, sometimes less. But when I do, for that one play, I am as good as Tiger woods. I might birdy 4 holes, for 4 holes, I played like a pro. The difference is that on the next hole I will take 12 shots. But on every round I play, there are one or two moments, when I am Tiger Woods.

@Promnight: My aunts and uncles are avid golfers, and my aunt in Santa Barbara booked a lesson for me with her pro, an hour spent trying to contort myself into appropriate uncomfortable putting position. It was worse than having my wisdom teeth removed. At least I got good drugs for that.
@Benedick: I would have loved to take fencing, but given my anger issues, no one thought it was a good idea to give me a weapon and turn me loose on someone.

@nabisco: Donovan is a physical monster. Can anyone throw the ball further? He is enormous, and carries himself like an animal, all physicality.

But there is one thing missing. There is a lack of sustainable intensity. You can see, that he goes through moods, he sometimes seems disinterested, sometimes just lackadasical. He can get real intense, for a drive or two, when things are going well, and also, sometimes, he seems to get angry when things go badly, and will show a flash of drive. But then there will be a setback, and he will be sitting on the bench with his head in his hand and a weird smile on his face, like he just doesn’t care, sometimes. During situations where his defense is in a critical play, where you would often see the opposing QB stalking the sidelines, tweaked and energized and just dying to get the ball back, he will be sprawled on the bench with this wierd grin. Like, he only cares if its his fault, like, OK, if the Defense doesn’t hold then its not my fault. In short, he often has the look on his face I have when I am at work. “Hey, I did my part, you clowns want to fuck it up, hey, thats on you.”

Driving one of the best receivers in football off the team, because he did not like the idea of another star on the team, seems to be related.

Geez I go away for most of the day and suddenly I find 127 comments.

I’m still kinda pissed with myself for waiting too long before making arrangements. Hope all goes well with the stinquers going to Hopey’s Big Party.

In regards to sport, I enjoy hockey and besboll to watch (I played them but I sucked at both.)

As for playing them, I enjoy beach volleyball (even though I sort of suck at it) but prefer the solitude of running though.

If you want a genteel sport, don’t play paintball. I had signed up to play this weekend (I wasn’t going to go if I had managed to get to Philly) and did well. I used this just to blow off steam (especially after this week’s employer fiasco.)

@nabisco: @Jamie Sommers: So the Super Bowl is going to be the battle of the Dredlocks v. Samoan curls? Polamalu was amazing. I hope the Cardinals are ready to get the shit pounded out of them.

Jamie and Nabisco, you two going to make a friendly Stinque wager?

@redmanlaw: My hunting days were limited to shotgun pheasant and .22 varmint shooting in NJ as an early teen. Never felt the urge to go after anything bigger.
I never did lose the flyfishing and ultralight spinning jones, though. The hunt for trout really appealed to me, especially when I lived in East Tennessee in the early-to-mid-1970s and could flyfish in the Smokies.
Why did I start this comment? Oh, yeah, the fucking deer.
By 1976 I was in CA, married to a socialist TN hillbilly girl, and we had very little money. We took frequent weekend driving trips in our trusty Beetle, exploring NoCal, Southern Oregon, and Nevada. And we camped. We didn’t have enough money for a tent, but we had sleeping bags. One memorable weekend we were trout fishing on the Pit River and on Hat Creek, between Mts Shasta and Lassen, and had found a nice place to camp.
At about 2AM my wife and I woke to find that there was a herd of mule deer in our camp. Well, let me be more specific: There were about 20 fucking mule deer snorting (mule deer are very vocal and loud) and shuffling around on top of my wife and I. They were literally standing on top of us. We had to keep quiet and still to avoid spooking the damned deer and risk getting trampled. They kept us up for quite a while before they eventually left. I’m still amazed that we didn’t get pissed-, shat-, or trampled-on that night. It was the last time we camped without a tent.
@Promnight: Golf blows. I was a caddy as a teen, and my recollections are of geezers pissing in the bushes, drinking too much, and trying to cheat their “friends”. A pox on golf.

@Ewalda: Thats a really beautiful camping story. I came to camping late, started it at 30, always wanted to, but it was a totally foreign thing to my upbringing. So most of my camping is national park campground camping, a wilderness overnight in the Smokies, and a week of semi-wilderness camping in Sedona.

And there was this one dude ranch-pack trip thing I did in Wyoming. Serious pack trip; there were 4 of us, 3 guides, and 20 mules, 10 horses, and we set off for 5 nights in the wilderness area just south of Yellowstone, we were within a mile of the continental divide at the headwaters of the Snake River, where it was a little stream we could jump across, cool our beer in (20 mules carries a lot) and theoretically, bathe in. It was the longest time I ever went without bathing, whoo, it was cold. It was July, but we were at 10,000 feet and there was frost on the inside of the tent every morning.

We went up some unkown mountain to 13,000 feet, and there was snow, we could see to Yellowstone lake and falls. Those horses are strong, I had a hard time talking, let alone walking, up there.

Amazing trip, I am gonna tell more about this.

20 Mules, when they stretched out down the trail, our expedition was like 2 city blocks long, and we were doing rough terrain, trails I would not want to walk on, these mules, and our horses, they went up and down near vertical, narrow dirt tracks. I was scared a lot of the time.

It was like being, I imagine, Attila the Hun, we lived simply, big tents, big fire, but we had these guides who did everything, we were like savage royalty. They would pitch the tents, they would set up the big cookfly, they would get a huge fire going and even gather logs and create a dining-room-seating area aroundd the fire, then cook dinner for us.

Now, the only reason I bring it up. We had these 20 mules and 10, hell, it might have been 15, horses. We had this fucking herd with us. The mules, the guides left them free to graze, they told us, mules are smart, they will not leave us. The horses, they told us, were idiots, and would wander off and run away, so they were tied to a long rope strung between trees, and at night, they would hobble them but set them free, so they could graze, but not go to far. You know, hobbling involves putting handcuffs on the two front legs, so they can’t gallop or even walk normally, they have to take each step with both front legs together, it makes them make a sound, “thump. Thump. Thump.” As they wandered about. Each night we would fall asleep to horses thumping awkwardly around our tent. In the morning they would still have to round the idiots up. The mules would be standing in line for their oats.

But this isn’t about hobbles horses, it is about the moose. One night, while we were eating dinner, a moose wandered into camp. They put out a salt lick down where the mules tended to congregate, and this moose shows up at the salt lick. (The mules were like cats, actually, they had this one area they would retire to, but they would also just wander around, and they were curious and would often watch us, you would turn around and there would be a mule standing there watching you. They would wander up behind you and look over your shoulder. I fell in love with mules on that trip).

But anyway, there is this moose 10 yards from us, and we are eating dinner, and there is the moose, we duded were laughing, the guides were fingering their sidearms. The Mules got protective and did this very aggressive display, they all formed up and faced down the moose, but it just kinda hung around on the periphery.

It stayed all night, and we went to bed with the moose still hanging around, and shortly after, as the thumping of the hobbled horses faded into the distance, I heard these big muffled hoofsteps, and then a snuffling, and then something nuzzled the outside of the tent. It was the moose. I wonder if it thought the tent was a female moose?

Your story reminded me of that night, I have not thought of it in years.

So many stories of that trip, like when the governor showed up.

@Promnight: “Its all about the beer. The only time its considered bad form to actually have a beer in your hand is when you are batting. In the outfield, you would put your beer down carefully in the grass when each batter came up, and hope you didn’t knock it down running for a ball. Style points for catching the ball in your gloved hand while still holding your beer in the other hand.”

Did you play in my league? This is a 100% accurate description. Our pitcher would get so drunk we would need to point him towards the plate in the 7th inning.

@Dodgerblue: I love softball, the game ends, its a wednesday night in July, 9:00 pm and still light, hey, lets go to Smitty’s Pub,” and there you are, hitting the pillow at 3:00 am with a head full of beer and an interesting morning at the office after 3 hours sleep. Good times.

@Dodgerblue: Yup. College, University of Denver. We ruled IM softball, then we got cocky and started drinking pithchers of GnT before the games. Inhalation. I think we got wiped out in the quarter finals. Our cheerleaders from the girls’ dorm objected to our real team name, “The Whack Offs”, so we had to become “The Wackers”.

I played a little more later, designed a t-shirt for the Albuquerque Tribune’s teams, and faded away to go fishing. No sports for the boy, just stuff like skateboarding, snowboarding, outdoor stuff.

@redmanlaw: Pitchers of G&Ts? Thats good, very good, style points for you, RML.

Did people do Kamikazes in your day? In the late 70s, early 80s, the shot of shots was the Kamikaze, its vodka and a dash of Roses Lime Juice.

Come to think of it, its been since about 1987 since I was in a bar, and ordered like 15 shots for a big group, and they put all those shot glasses on a tray and brought it over and everyone would grab a shot a slam it down.

Is that even done anymore? What with DUI awareness and everything, do people even do “shots” anymore?

I brought it up because there is nothing like a pitcher of Kamikazes. When I was working, I worked like a dog every single summer and every break, high school and college, as a cook in a seafood restaurant, no spring breaks, camping trips, or backpacking Europe for me, back in my restaurant days, there was this deal we had with the bartenders, a lobster tail, was worth a pitcher of Kamikazes. Bartender was hungry, wanted a lobster tail for dinner, maybe some scallops and shrimp, well, we like kamikazes.

A pitcher, it took a whole bottle of Vodka to make one, a cup of lime juice, the rest was ice. We’d share it between the 5 of us.

I had lots of scars, burns.

@Promnight: What? No Triple Sec?

We used to make them in those carafes the cheap rose’ came in. I was an awesome college drinker, which might be why I dropped out of two different colleges and am not currently engaged in helping to run the world.

@Promnight: Softball = Rounders?

@redmanlaw: I was an awesome college drinker, which might be why I dropped out of two different colleges and am not currently engaged in helping to run the world. I knew there had to be a reason.

@Mistress Cynica: You can’t fence angry. Well, you can fence angryish with a sabre but not with a foil. It’s like high-speed chess. I got a kick out of all the flouncing about but hated the competition. I honestly detest being put in a position which makes me compete. I hate it one-on-one and I hate it even more as part of a ‘team’. Ugh. I won’t even play Scrabble with the OH.

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