Good news and bad news

Well, the good news is that I have real Internet now, which will make regular posting a whole lot easier. The bad news is that I can't think of anything clever to say. So, I'll work on that.

Waiting for Bubba.

My new sponsor. At the Caribou. Time to be open and honest. Blah.

It has occurred to me that the cure for loneliness is reaching out. That's true in blogging and in sobriety, so I'm doing it on both fronts. I'm slowly making the rounds of my old blogging pals, who (if they've given me any thought at all) must have written me off at least a year ago. But I'm like creepy bad guys in slasher movies. Just when you think I'm finally dead for real... something grabs your ankle while violent violin music slices through your brain (think Psycho).

Okay. I admit it. I have nothing to say right now so I'm making stuff up. Footwork and all.

Carry on, old pals. If I haven't yet gotten to you, I will. Bwahahahahaha.

End of the session. Whew!

So, I'm getting more rest than I anticipated after the really amazing ride at the capitol last week, but I'm sincerely hoping that the governor will call a special legislative session and I'll get a chance to make up for it. Much excitement and many disappointments.

In the meantime, I know I said I wouldn't talk about issues here, but screw it. Hooray for Iowa and Vermont!

Personally, I think we ought to start a counter-counter movement to promote gay marriage. Here's the plan: we openly marry gay people of the opposite sex just to get the benefits. And we make sure everybody knows that's exactly what we're doing. Then let's see if the far right is still so attached to their precious and exclusive institution. Nothing illegal about it, as far as I know. But then, I'm too lazy to check.

Now, I need to pick up my fabulous daughter from a fabulous Passover seder. Good Pesach, everyone, and good night!

What the hell was I thinking...

...starting up a blog during the last week of a legislative session?????

Anyway...

Here are some observations about the political process:

1.Conservatives say “brouhaha.” Progressives say “kerfuffle.”

2.The legislature is a strange combination of kubuki theater and WWE wrestling. Thanks, John, for the kubuki part.

3.Most politicians will do the right thing if it doesn't hurt their self-interests.

4.A few politicians will do the right thing even if it does.

5.There are heroes on capitol hill. See number 4 above.

6.There are other heroes on capitol hill: the folks who lobby for free just because they're passionate about their cause. Many of them are there every day, and some have to take the bus to get there. They are the bright lights of democracy.

7.The rotunda on a busy day is a medieval fair complete with jugglers.

8.Legislators are incredibly inefficient, which may be why they think government can't do anything right.

9.Having a committee chairperson know you by your first name is sort of seductive.

10.The press is sometimes as confused as I am.

The Subversive Librarian is back: Older, a bit more ragged, and hopefully a little wiser.

I failed. I was supposed to be a writer. I was just as tortured as Hemingway, but instead of writing a novel, I wrote 1,500 resumes. And then I completely self-destructed. All without ever taking a drink or a drug. Crash. Burn. Boom.

No, not boom. It was much quieter, like that sound-absorbing silence in the aftermath of Mount St. Helens. My soul was just . . . gone. And let me tell you, that is not a fun place to be. It got really, really bad.

The details are dreary. Suffice it to say that I lost everything – material and spiritual. I was unemployable. I lost my car, my health, my kid, my music, and my friends. I even lost little luxuries like indoor plumbing. The only thing I gained was weight. 120 pounds of it, to be exact.

It was either die, drink, or start getting my act together. My preference was to die or drink (not necessarily in that order), but somehow I started getting my act together just a little. I recommitted myself to sobriety and, at long last, I started putting it first. I made 90 meetings in 90 days. I started losing weight. I left my relationship and got my kid back. I was lucky enough to get a “getting sober” job (read “barista”). Realizing that this was probably my last chance to redeem myself, I did a great job. And somehow, not too long after that, I was invited to interview for this great government position.

In my new life, I work for a state government agency as a policy analyst and legislative liaison. I'm not going to tell you where, exactly, and I'm not going to talk specifics when it comes to my job. Why? For one thing, I like my job. I'd like to keep it. For another, I think my agency does really important work and I don't want to do anything that could compromise it.

So... I'm afraid I can't tell you which Important Person reminds me of an uncircumcised penis. (oh, I am sooooo not going to tell you that!).

As a public employee, I have to stay away from controversy, so I can't talk much about specific political issues either. What I will talk about sometimes is the process of lawmaking, which is really very strange. And I'll talk about the cast of characters, which is probably the same everywhere. 'Cause let me tell you, they are, um, interesting.

I also think it would be fun to do some interviews. With oh, I don't know, somebody. That's where you come in. Got an idea?

I'm not proud. I'll interview anybody. Tire salesmen. Vegans. A random postal carrier. Your Aunt Betsy's bikini waxer. If someone's feeling a need for 15 minutes of fame, or has an interesting event coming up, lemme at 'em. Hey, it's exposure for these people. One day I had seven readers. In a single day! Man, you can't buy that kind of publicity.

You know who I really want to interview? The Sham-Wow guy. Talk about fabulously creepy carnival barker-ness! I bet he's got a British accent in real life.

If you know the Sham-Wow guy, I want to be your friend. I mean that.

But even if I can't get him, I'm serious about the interviews. Everybody's got a story. Let me tell yours. And then I'll add in whatever the hell I feel like, because I can. An essay on personal responsibility and why it wasn't my fault. Morning agricultural reports. Weiner-dog haiku. Mr. T.

All right, people. Lets get to work.

Just a Quick Update...

...as life goes on, and on, and on.

We're tending to one of our mares, who got beaten up bad (badly?) by another of our horses. She's got a huge 5-inch x 1-inch cut on her front leg that's wide open and can't be stitched up. Goes clear into the muscle and she's dragging her foot when she walks. So we'll be washing it, draining it, and packing it every day. That's a two-person job, and so is getting her to take her nasty-tasting pain medication twice a day. Poor girl also has big (fist-sized) hematomas all over her belly and probably 20 horse bites, some pretty bad, and a rear leg that got three or four good hard kicks so it's banged up pretty good, too. Possible damage to her jaw, though I think that's getting better. Fortunately, she is pretty stoned right now and can't feel much. The good news: the vet says no sign of any broken bones. But boy, the other horse sure did a job on her.

As for the Perpetrator: he is "proud cut," which means he was gelded as a colt but they couldn't find one of his little jewels so it's still in there somewhere. And it's releasing lots and lots of testosterone, apparently. So he'll be heading to the nearest veterinary school for surgery as soon as we can figure out how to pay for it. In the meantime we've got a sterile stallion on our hands.

Meanwhile, a friend of ours has just delivered a little girl way too early. We wish her well and are praying for the whole family. Sooooo tiny. But apparently a fighter, thank goodness.

On the Good News front, I have finally made Law Review. Oh, I was on a law review as managing editor, which should have been more than enough for me, but I didn't make it onto The Law Review and as childish as it is, I've never quite gotten over it. But that's okay, because now I've been asked to be on the editorial board for the law review at the school where I teach. The Law Review. Ha, ha, so there.

As I said, it's all just life. And then some.

Distract and Destroy: Taking the Rhetoric Out for a Spin:

Townhall posted an article yesterday – perhaps true, I haven’t yet found a transcript, video, or audio – that typifies the right’s (and sometimes the left’s) mean-spirited style of rhetoric.

The headline, “Edwards Backs Mandatory Preventative Care,” describes presidential candidate John Edwards’ comments to a Labor Day picnic crowd in Tipton, Iowa.

In the article caught my eye, I am embarrassed to say, precisely because I bought into the right’s rhetoric – the first image in my mind was of government goons holding down some hapless and unwilling woman to inject her forcibly with a vaccine, or worse. Which immediately made me think, “Gee, that sounds pretty rough. Did he really say that?”

Edwards’ comments, if the article is correct, were about the importance of cradle-to-grave health care for every American. Here’s the relevant quote: "It requires that everybody be covered. It requires that everybody get preventive care . . . If you are going to be in the system, you can't choose not to go to the doctor for 20 years. You have to go in and be checked and make sure that you are OK.")

Now, I don’t know much about the specifics of various national health care proposals, although I’m certainly in favor of some kind of universal health care. So I don’t know if making people go to the doctor is a good thing or a bad thing. Certainly it seems reasonable that if I want you to pay for my breast cancer surgery (which hopefully I will never need), I should be willing to get annual mammograms. My next question is, how do you enforce this? How do other countries do it? The article doesn’t speak to this, and perhaps neither did John Edwards on the courthouse lawn. Or, maybe he did. Dunno.

But the right won’t be asking these questions, except perhaps rhetorically. They’ll be too busy inflaming the public against the parade of horribles that’s bound to march out of any national health care proposal, no matter whose plan it is. Oh, and of course they’ll mention again that Edwards has SUVs (one of which, as the author acknowledged, is a hybrid and the other of which he says he’s had for years).

What won’t happen is a rational, measured debate on the merits and disadvantages of national health insurance.

With her alarmist headline, the author has skillfully created a sound bite made in heaven. If right-wing pundits pick it up, John Edwards will spend the next two weeks, or maybe the coming year, having to explain himself instead of discussing the issues of the day, including health care. And we’ll all be the sicker for it.