Rain

This is serious. You may not think so, sitting in your comfortable little cocoon wherever you are, but this is serious.  It’s raining in San Diego.  It is not supposed to rain in San Diego in November.

The television stations are forced to use last year’s StormWatch graphics.  And that’s not all.  The rain is causing traffic accidents.  It’s inconveniencing peoples’ lives.  It will be dripping on people who weren’t expecting it.

San Diego expects rain January and February.  A bit.  Not on weekends of course. But now and then.  Certainly not in November.  Why is this happening?  Who would do this?  There’s a time and place for rain, but in these economic times, this is not the time.  We need to balance the need for rain against the economic needs of society.

Rain washes dirt and trash downstream, until it finds its way to the ocean.  And it makes the water unfit for swimming for three days.  The entire weekend.  Not that most of us want to go in the water in November anyway.  We know it’s too cold.  But there are people here vacationing from places like Nebraska and Indiana and they long to sit on our beaches and frolic in our ocean water.  The rain and runoff (the Chamber of Commerce has taught us not to say pollution) prevent them from enjoying the bounty of our land and spending their hand-delivered stimulus money.  Not that the stimulus was a good idea, but once the money was available, they may as well take it.

We understand there’s a need for a little rain.  Rain should fall between three o’clock and five o’clock in the morning.  Some mornings.  Not all.  And not hard rain.  No thunder.  Not any rain loud enough to wake hard working Americans from their well-deserved sleep in their comfortable beds.  Socialists will say this early morning rain will harm the homeless and a few truckers making early deliveries, and let them complain.  We know that argument won’t really hold water, so to speak.  It will gain little sympathy.  And the overnight rain will screw with those annoying Occupy people and that’s as it should be.

Overnight rain will be enough to keep the grass green and the plants alive.  And that’s all we need.  When the sun rises in the east it should rise over a cloudless sky, beaming bright, beautiful, radiant, warm, carcinogenic sunlight.  That’s the sort of weather that creates jobs, promotes wholesome outdoor activity and keeps people happy.

No one smiles in the rain.

It’s raining and there are outdoor weddings planned.  Festivals, farmers’ markets, soccer games and golf. It’s Beer Week in San Diego.  Craft brewers from all over the country are here to pour beer. Beer gardens, beer tents, beer events – most of them planned outdoors, because this is, after all, San Diego — and now it is all sabotaged by rain.  Hundreds of thousands of dollars of hotel and restaurant revenue lost to the rain.  It’s big business. Waiters and waitresses idled, jobs lost, temporary workers turned away.  Too much rain.  It’s costing us jobs.  In this economy we cannot have rain.  It’s just that simple. This is unconscionable.

Fucking Democrats.

 

2016: The In Crowd

Pundits are back pedaling so fast on their predictions for the Republican nominee for President that they are bumping into themselves coming forward with new predictions.

There were the “don’t underestimate Michele Bachmann” pundits, the “Sarah Palin must be running because why else would she be doing this” pundits, the “Huckabee has a lock on the Christian right” pundits, and the “(fill in the blank) will surprise a lot of people” pundits.

Standing apart, in a swirling sphere of his own is poor, hapless George Will.  In 2007 Will said that the candidate who had a lock on the Christian right and was the one to watch for the nomination was Sam Brownback, who dropped out after the Iowa Straw Poll.

In 2010, Will said the clear Republican choice to challenge and defeat Barbara Boxer in California was Chuck DeVore who finished third in his party’s primary to Carly Fiorina and Tom Campbell. Boxer went on to handily defeat Fiorina.

This year Will had his act together.  And he knew as early as May.

 “This is the most open scramble on the Republican side since 1940 when Wendell Willkie came out of the woodwork and swept the field.  I think — people are complaining this is not off to a brisk start. I think that’s wrong. I think we know with reasonable certainty that standing up there on the West front of the Capitol on Jan. 20, 2013 will be one of three people: Obama, Pawlenty and Daniels. I think that’s it.”

George Will is the Sports Illustrated cover of political punditry.

I’m not going to claim to be of that caliber.  I’m not going to claim to have any political acumen at all.  But if you look at the trend, you can see who will be a serious contender for at least a day in 2016.

Mayor Bruce In of East Fairmont Oklahoma.  Never heard of him?  Doesn’t matter.  It’s all about the trend.

In 2008, the Republican nominee was John McCain.  Right now the Republican frontrunner is Herman Cain.  Doesn’t take a genius to spot the trend:

McCain – [Mc]Cain – [Ca]In.

Being mayor of East Fairmont isn’t a full time job.  It does pay ten dollars a meeting, but a fellow needs a little something more to sustain himself.  Mayor In is a dentist. And don’t try to trip him up with fancy reporter “gotcha” questions.  He knows all the ways to twist the “the doctor is in” joke.

Is the doctor In?

Yes.

May I see him?

He’s not here.

I thought you said he was In.

He is.

Well then I’d like to see him.

He’s out.

He’s out?  I don’t understand.

What’s there to understand?  In is out.

In is out?

That’s what I said.

And I suppose Black’s white and Wright’s left.

As a matter of fact…

Do I expect the professional pundits to spot this trend and get In on it?  Will won’t.

The Day After

It’s been a full day since I gave up the mantle as President of the San Diego Press Club and I’ve had time to reflect and write my memoirs.

It was a crisp morning and I woke feeling tired yet buoyant, as though a weight both physical and psychic had been lifted from my shoulders.  When the dog and I went for our walk, I was struck by the quiet.  No one was clamoring around to get a word with me, take a picture or ask for an opinion.  We walked quickly but I breathed in the fresh air and felt exhilarated. Still, there is a certain sense of a loss of purpose and direction that is both foreign and liberating.

Yes it was odd going out to the car and having to drive myself.  Out of habit I sat in the back seat and when I realized no one was coming to drive I moved somewhat sheepishly to the front.  There were very few phone messages to return and much of the day was spent just gathering up mementos.

The real work of collating my papers will start soon, though much of it is already in order.  I was fairly meticulous through my term in keeping things in a binder.  Twelve meeting agendas with my handwritten notes will provide guidance to some future administration.  Today was for reflecting a little and also looking ahead, searching for a new mission.  The work of fundraising to construct the presidential library shelf will start soon enough.

Dining

Something’s happened at the restaurant.  I keep seeing people look through the menu, then turn to their server and say “I’ll do the black linguine.”

Do the black linguine?  Really?  Not order, not eat?  Do?  Given the connotations of the word, watching someone at your table do the black linguine risks your appetite, not to mention the restaurant’s reputation and liquor license.

Where did that come from?  What happened to “I’ll have the black linguine,” or just “the black linguine please.”  But do?  Generally speaking, the meal should be done by the time it gets to the table, shouldn’t it?

That’s just the most recent of the many annoying things people say at restaurants.  Why do servers come by and look at your nearly empty plate and ask “are you still working on that?”

“Actually, no, I’m not working on it at all.  I’m eating it.”

I worry that the question may become “are you still doing that?”

And who thought it would be a good idea for the server to introduce himself to the patrons. “Hello, I’m Donald. I’ll be your server.”

“Hi Donald, I’m Lee.  Want to have a seat?  Let’s get to know each other. Can I read your screenplay?”

What am I supposed to do with that information?  Can I stand up and call to him across the room?  “Donald, oh Donald, be a dear and bring more scotch over here.”

But the one that aggravates me most is when they come to clear your table and decide they have to do play-by-play on your eating habits.  “Wow, you really cleaned that up.” Or “you didn’t leave anything on that plate did you?”

Is there something wrong with eating all the food I’m paying for?  “Were you planning to serve the leftovers to someone else?  Just take the plate and go away……Donald.”