Columns 2008

Who cares if baseball players take steroids?

Watching congressional hearings this past week, you would have been hard pressed to know there was a war going on in Iraq in which our soldiers and their soldiers and civilians continue to die with no viable definition of winning evident, or that the economy was tanking, or that my house is probably worth about half of what the government wants to assess it at for tax purposes. That’s because our leaders were too busy tackling the obviously much more important problem of steroids in baseball.

I’m still not sure why the government is spending my tax dollars on this

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Across the Universe

Anyone who even drew one breath in the sixties should see this movie for the soundtrack alone.  I was a basket case while Let It Be was being sung. Wow.

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My little blue box

Every year this time as I prepare my paperwork for my taxes, I go to my little blue plastic file box and pull out the wads of receipts, bills, notices, rabies shots records and check stubs and think of my friend Janis. Despite the fact that I now have an office with two full filing cabinets that could probably organize everything so that sorting things out wasn’t so difficult each year, I still find myself stuffing all my probably important papers I might need for my taxes into the same blue plastic file box that she picked out for me

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My dirty little secret

After every awards show of any kind, the E channel carries a fashion critique show of what everyone wore. I watch those shows faithfully, guiltily, with a secret pleasure that is hard to explain.  No, that’s not true. The guilty pleasure is not hard to explain. I love watching people wearing things that my mother would have thrown herself in front of a train before letting me out of the house in get praised for being “fashion forward” and “fresh”.  Some of the outfits I understand and might be tempted to wear if I were 100 pounds lighter, 60 years

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There should be two sections

Pharmacies should have two sections. One with medicine bottles headed for a home with children. By all means, put every kind of safeguard you can think on them to childproof them.  Of course, my belief in the ingenuity of children of this great country of ours will be sorely tested if they aren’t able to open them all way before their parents figure out how to do it. But that’s besides the point. The other section should consist of drugs for homes without children but with old farts like me who spend an inordinate amount of time looking for old

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Why I don’t understand federal financing

The feds had a huge debt in the late 1990s. But their budget was less than their revenues. So they declared a budget surplus even though that pesky trillion dollar debt still existed. I don’t get it. If you still owe money, how do you have a surplus? And why can’t I balance my budget that way?

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Is it possible?

Is it possible to die from a sinus infection? Because if you find me dead over the next few days, that will be the cause.

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Columns 2008

Where is the male leadership?

I’ve told this story before but I think it bears repeating. A class on STDs had a discussion centered on the role of alcohol in child sexual assault. The instructor asked everyone in the class who’d ever been drunk to raise their hand.  Most hands went up. Then the instructor asked those who had sexually assaulted a child while drunk to keep their hands up. All went down.

Recent statistics show that fifty-seven percent of rapists were not using alcohol when they assaulted.  Sixty percent of the victims were sober during the incident. Sexual assault is about power. And what

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It’s like having my own groupies

Just so everyone knows, I’m out of bed, the weather has warmed up into the high teens and I have decided to resume my life. I must say I was surprised to find Blue and Blondie’s postings on the website. I was unaware that they could type without opposable thumbs. But then, maybe opposable thumbs aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.

At any rate, I think I know now a little of what it must feel like to have groupies.  Blue and Blondie follow me around the house like stalkers. I think they want to make sure I don’t

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Carbs are my life

The longer the cold lasts, the more carbs I crave. I could fall into a bowl of pasta topped with bread and baked with rice and be happy to not emerge until spring…or a temperature above 20.

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