- Alaska Governor Sarah Palin said this in her resignation speech on Friday, 3 July 2009:
In fact, this decision comes after much consideration, and finally polling the most important people in my life – my children (where the count was unanimous… well, in response to asking: “Want me to make a positive difference and fight for ALL our children’s future from OUTSIDE the Governor’s office?” It was four “yes’s” and one “hell yeah!” The “hell yeah” sealed it – and someday I’ll talk about the details of that…).
If my mother had asked us this question as kids, or something similar (like “Want me to make a positive difference and fight for ALL of South Oceanside children’s future from OUTSIDE of our kitchen?”), we would have just looked at her as if she had sprouted a second head on her shoulders. Then, maybe then, one of us would have felt really bad for her and said, “Hell, yeah!” just to make her feel better. But do you think we would have meant it? Hell, no!
- And I may have been selectively listening, but I have heard no one among the TV talking heads draw the parallel between Richard Nixon’s 1962 loss in the California gubernatorial race (which ended with his “You won’t have Nixon to kick around anymore…” speech to the media) and subsequent Presidential win in 1968, and this Sarah Palin circus. Anybody who thinks she’s not angling for a phoenix-like rise from the ashes of this absurd confusion and a run for the nation’s highest office is relying too greatly on the notion that events run a sensible course. This woman is planning a fancy pageant walk right through the front doors of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
- Essayist Joel Stein’s weekly column for Time magazine this week is about the culinary possibilities of placenta. I am SO not kidding. I read it twice in a row after it arrived in my mailbox, laughing so hard (out loud, with no one – sadly – around to hear), and cringing and grimacing simultaneously. Crimacing, gringing. Here’s an excerpt:
Though I am exceedingly squeamish, when my son was born, I was shocked that I saw only the beauty of childbirth. Until the placenta came out. There are many normal human reactions to seeing a placenta, ranging from screaming to vomiting to warding it off with a cross. For those of you who have never seen one, the placenta is to the baby what Stephen Baldwin is to Alec Baldwin. It’s what your liver would look like if it got into an accident on the autobahn with one of those aliens from Mars Attacks! and their bloody carcasses threw jellyfish at each other.
You can find the entire column here.
- This past weekend, on the 4th of July holiday, I was really looking forward to a nice, big, juicy steak, grilled on the patio – slightly charred and crispy on the outside, with a pink, only slightly bloody center. The beautiful cut of beef that I purchased at V. Richards was a little over an inch thick, slightly marbled, but sturdy. I let it marinate in oil, pepper and rosemary most of the day. The finished product was cooked perfectly, and it tasted just as good. I should have allowed my brain to override my desire, however, as I haven’t eaten a true cut of red meat in months, maybe even since last year. A couple of hours after the meal, I experienced the pain and contortions that accompanied a rebellion by my gastro-intestinal system. I will spare you the details, but the memory of it came rushing back to me after I read the Joel Stein column about placenta (excerpted above). In the future, if you ever hear me express an interest in consuming red meat, please direct me to the chicken section of the menu.