Is The Governor Sanford Affair Really a Tragedy?

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By now anyone with a heartbeat is aware that the quirky Governor of South Carolina, Mark Sanford,  enjoyed an extra-marital affair.  I say enjoyed, because anyone who would put his career on the line, especially when the career had presidential aspirations, must have really been in love.

Most by now have at least watched soundbites of Sanford’s rambling apology and explanation.   He hemmed, hawed and fumbled about in a Joycean stream of conscious admission of his wrong doing.   The admission capped off several days of speculation where Governor Sanford was missing and incommunicado.   Depending on the time of day, his office reported him to be either hiking the Appalachian Trail or writing.   On the weekend that included Father’s Day.

This would not be such a big event for a guy who wasn’t a father.   In fact, it wouldn’t hardly be noticed if the person was your run of the mill flake.   But in Sanford’s case, his flakiness is labeled as eccentric, due to the stature of his political office.   We tend to do that, substitute quirky and eccentric for flaky and irresponsible according to one’s stature in society.   But I digress.

What makes Sanford’s affair particularly peculiar is that this is the guy who stood firmly on family values.  He is a devout Christian with strong family values and a steadfast belief in integrity and keeping his word and bonds.   He was a man who judged others for straying, and straying they are, these politicos.   The list of of lawmakers who have conducted extramarital affairs is getting longer every day.   On both sides of the aisle.   Homosexual affairs.  Heterosexual affairs.  Come one.  Come all.  Often on the public money.

But back to Sanford.   The news pundits are all over this.   The analyze it, assess it, rate it, label it.   They have said what a shame it was, fighting back a laugh here and there.   Many, including the liberal pundits, have solemnly pronounced this a “tragedy.”  A tragedy.  Mind you.   Iran is beating the hell out of its citizens, and North Korea wants to nuke the world.  But here is the tragedy.

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But this poor guy, after years of steadfast and rigid beliefs, finally got to know himself a little bit better than he had ever supposed.  He came to terms with himself.  He found out he was flawed and not as disciplined as he once believed.   He found love, it seems, and through that  he came to a recognition.  In some ways he transcended the boring black and white, simplistic values he so adamantly enforced such a short time ago and discovered the greater complexities of love and life.   It’s an awakening, and hopefully he will use this recognition for a better purpose, for for no other purpose than to love more fully.

As for the supposed tragedy–what tragedy?   On the macro level, Sanford couldn’t handle his own romance.  Something that finally got under his skin, steamed his sexual engines and made the righteous lifestyle a little more obscure, has in a sense liberated him.   But it also demonstrated it is questionable at least that he can’t handle a crisis.  Sanford was a candidate for President of the United States.

And you know when that phone rings at three AM or you get a collect call from Argentina, you better know how to handle it.   It appears Governor Sanford is incapable of handling that proverbial call.   In a sense it is well in keeping with my general take on rigid people with rigid perspectives.   They simply aren’t flexible enough to deal well when life throws them a curve.   George Bush in the classroom; Sanford in love.

So at the end of the day we caught a break.   This man could have been President and in a crisis issued the same style rambling explanation of just what was going down.   He could have messed up big time.   Now he won’t get the chance.

He can spend his time reassessing those rigid values of his.   He can spend the time fixing  his life.

Miss California Makes Hay on the Gay Marraige Issue

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Carrie Prejean made her television commentator debut recently on Fox News.   Prejean, otherwise known as Miss California,  graced the airwaves as a host on the Fox News Show, Fox and Friends.    Her two male co-hosts were apparently smitten with her as they heaped so much praise on her as a visionary and in possession of the hearts and minds of the people.   I thought I was witnessing a pick up scene in some  Upper East Side Watering Hole where the two stiff suits were trying to woo the hot babe from the eighteenth floor.

Carrie Prejean, as we all know thanks to the media overload, stirred up some controversy when she  while running for Miss USA that she opposed gay marriage.    She talked about family values and the way she was raised.   She talked about morality and virtue.   She didn’t discuss the racy photos taken earlier in her young life that later appeared all over the Internet.  But so what?   We are in the age of digital cameras.    And blind ambition.   What’s going topless in quest of fame?

But being against gay marriage and showing off your much smaller, non-implanted boobs was too much red meat for either side of the issue.  The liberal left reflexively hated her guts.   The conservative right adopted her as a love child and couldn’t support her enough.   Even Sarah Palin stepped forward in support of her fellow Beauty Queen.    Talk show pundits rambled on as they are wont to do, getting paid for their scintillating insight into such matters.

As for me, I can’t get all excited, either way.   I realize the media is a circus and unlike  spectacles like wrestling that openly wink at its play acting and entertainment value, the news  media still pretends there are shreds of authenticity left in its tabloid soul.   I realize that while I may disagree with Carrie Prejean’s opinion, vehemently, in fact, I will defer to Voltaire in defending to the death her right to it.   Well, maybe not to the death, but you get the point.

Besides, what brand of idiots would resort to a contestants in a  beauty pageant for insights into the complexities of social and political issues?    I mean, to take seriously the geopolitical perceptions of a beauty queen is in and of itself an oxymoron.   Other than their traditional desire for world peace, there is little to offer other than a sneak peak at their silicon boob jobs and a few minutes of mediocre talent.    I swear if Carrie Prejean or any other aspiring beauty queen came out in favor of inter-bestial sexual relations, I wouldn’t feel anymore upset than her view of love being long walks in the moonlight.

What does interest me is how Carrie Prejean can parlay her controversial position into one of a bonafide celebrity.   While she may have done it from the platform of the Miss USA contest, it is still remarkable how she joined the growing list of limited people making the celebrated move from there to here.  This in itself, if not an art form, at least qualifies as something worth noting.

I am not claiming that Carrie Prejean is particularly talented or that a brain trust lives in concealment under that lovely blond hair.   In fact, it is safe to say  she is no rocket scientist and that no missiles will be launched from that brain.   But then her  two fellow hosts on the show are far from what you would deem an Edward R. Murrow or Walter Cronkite.    And yet there they are…commentating.   Or whatever.

Besides, Prejean has the Big Mo going in her favor.    Her momentum based on the fact that somewhere around half the nation supports her.   Americans love a pretty face and a girl that’s both traditional yet spunky.  It’s the natural combination for big time appeal.   This is, after all, nothing if not a country that for some strange reason usually prefers its leaders be mediocre.  Perhaps that way they are less intimidating and more accessible.   There are a number of reasons, but that is the subject of a different feature.

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Ironically, or maybe not, it seems to be the conservatives who best repurpose adversity.   You can name a few.  There was Oliver North who was convicted of violating the Congress and the laws of this land by allegedly engineering the elements of what would be the Iran-Contra Scandal.  He became a talk show host who was revered by his followers.  Same goes for G. Gordon Liddy who was convicted for his participation in the Watergate Scandal and went on to be a talk show host.

Jessica Hahn, church administrator, was spotlighted for being sexually abused by Televangelist Jim Bakker.   She had a radio show, however briefly, made dozens of guest appearances, and posed in Playboy Magazine.   Not bad for a conservative girl who was supposedly a virgin at the time of her abuse.

Rush Limbaugh, famous already, after telling his adoring listeners what harsh treatment was levied on drug users was in fact a major drug user who violated the law.   His punishment was higher numbers and, arguably, the title of the Republican spokesperson for this era.  He was famous already, but after the drug scandal, he was promoted within.

Then there is Dick Morris.  Morris worked as a political adviser to President Bill Clinton, but who resigned  after it was discovered he sought out prostitutes for mutual toe sucking festivities.     He is now a Republican Pundit, appears on countless shows and waxes critically on the behavior of others. It is fair to say Morris is more famous after the hooker told all about the toe sucking than he was as merely a political adviser.

The Democrats have very few who knew how to turn adversity in their favor.   There is of course Bill Clinton and the Monica Lewinsky Scandal.   But he was already the President and therefore famous.   In Clinton’s case, adversity cost him.   Influential people distanced themselves.   He faced public embarrassment, including a vote to impeach him.

Gary Hart, leading presidential hopeful, got caught doodling Donna Rice, and he had to drop out of a race that surely was his to lose.  He lost it.   He dwells now in Media Limbo, making appearances here and there but living overall in relative obscurity.

So at the end of the day, it’s fair to say the Republicans do it better.   They can sin and ask G-d for forgiveness, and remarkably he seems to do it every time.   He even gives them a talk show.   So in the end, contrary to the common opinion that that Republicans are dead or dying as a party, I would say they are far from it.     They are only on hiatus.

As for Carrie Prejean, should she lose her conservative backing, there is always the Weather Channel.

When Your Friends Start to Die

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It is disconcerting to say the least when your friends around you start to die.   Suddenly, you realize you have reached an age when death comes regularly if not yet often.   You are struck by its reality, its finality.   You are struck by your own sense of mortality.

I am not at the age when you expect your friends to pass on.   I’m a Boomer, and at this point in time and medical history, most of us are expected to live into our eighties and even nineties.   But clearly some don’t make it.   For some, life’s little game of Beat the Clock, offers a more truncated existence.   Suddenly we are gone, leaving others to grieve and reflect.

I lost yet another friend, recently.   I had not called him for a couple of months, and when I did I found his business number was being transferred to his Las Vegas office.  I knew right away he was gone.   No way, he would voluntarily leave California to move to Las Vegas.

He had struggled for years, having been inflicted with the ill effects of Agent Orange.   He had come into contact with it while serving in Vietnam.   Agent Orange was reported to cause all sorts of damage and lead to severe illness and death.  Of course, the government denied its ill effects, even while returning GI’s suffered from its symptoms.   My friend had the symptoms.  He had Hodgkin’s Disease and then heart disease, and finally he had trouble breathing without feeling worn down.   It was a sequence of events that he endured with good humor for twenty odd years.

Nevertheless, he managed to become a notable figure in the music industry.   He was but a little guy who never, ever looked the part of the rangy GI.   He was too bookish, near nebbishy.   But he had amazing inner strength and courage the more macho among us could only wish for.   He could literally laugh at life’s consequences and make jokes while staring death in the face.   It wasn’t that he didn’t care; he had a lot to live for.    But he knew in the end it didn’t matter whether he cared or not.   This was the game, these were the cards.   Play what you are dealt with.
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As with other friends who have passed away, you think about the slights and spites, the things you wished you hadn’t said.   You feel remorse, even guilty for some of the interchanges, even those you were never called on.   But that soon passes.   Then you remember the times you had.  You remember the fun times, but more importantly you think of the funny times.   You think of the events that were so ridiculous that you knew at the time, while you were laughing, you would be laughing in hindsight many years later.   You think of the shared moments, the small intimacies.   In this case it was all the music concerts we attended for business or otherwise.   In this case it was the backstage parties and the energy of what was then a vibrant music business.   It was fun just being there.

Now all that’s left are the memories and the experiences that have left you wiser, feeling a little dumb for the things you said and did, and imbibed when people still bought record albums.   Remember your friend who has passed away brings inspires the memory of other  people who also made the scene.   Some of them are still around.  Many, too, are gone.

You are left with the feeling of the passage of time and how little time any of use really have on the planet.   We know we are at the back end of life but not close to the point where we are truly old and frail, losing our faculties.   That is yet to come.   Perhaps when we do reach that age, we can be better accepting of our mortality and the inevitable end of our lives.   But now it still seems so distant, and yet here it is so close.   It’s seems unfair, really, when we are still vibrant and capable, viral, even, and still curious about the world.

But there are no guarantees that life will ever be fair.   We can watch all the movies we want that reinforce this notion, but from the moment we step out of the theater and back on the street, we know otherwise.   Life is life.   And then it is over.   For some it just comes earlier than others.   Too early.

Good night, Steve.

Revolution and the Loss of Soft Toilet Paper

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Some years ago I used to joke that America would only launch a revolution should we encounter such catastrophes as the loss of our favorite toilet paper.   Forget the Tax Day Tea Parties and the grousing over bankers’ bonuses.   Those are but minor episodes when compared to the prospect of harsh toilet tissue.  Now it seem there is some truth to that remark, according to an article in the U.K.’s Guardian.

The article maintains that Americans have a love affair with soft toilet paper is made from virgin wood.  Not remnants, nor any recycled material, but pure tree.  In other countries, toilet paper is made from as much as 40% recycled material, but not here.  Here in order to swipe our buttocks in the comfort to which we are accustomed, we need pure, virgin wood for that extra quilted ultra-soft, muti-layered roll of bathroom tissue we reach for with little concern.

Sure, we may make noise about saving the environment, and we go on about saving the trees and developing non-fossil energy forms, but in the end we waste a precious resource each time we wipe our end.    To support this issues, a study reports that there was a 40% increase in the costlier brand of toilet paper in 2008.   The premium brands are often infused with hand lotion or aloe vera.   Seems everything contains aloe vera, these days, but I digress.
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As American we already consume more paper than any other country.   It is one thing to use the precious resource for developing majestic theories of life on earth, but quite another to waste itour  on our bodily waste.   With companies spending millions of dollars every year telling us their premium brands  are far superior to the recycled stuff, it is small wonder softer toilet paper is more precious to us than say our Hummers.

I once had an assistant whose very demanding metrosexual boyfriend insisted she run around the city picking up the household products he most desired.   His favorite bathroom tissues was sold, it seemed, at bulk rates at only one big box store.   This tissue was infused with the notorious aloe verga gel.   So to keep him happy, a tough task on a good day, my assistant had to use up what little spare time she had running across town to buy him toilet paper.  Not only was she wrecking trees, but burning gasoline in these senseless journies.

Perhaps this recession is the time when we get our heads on street or at least take our head out of our you know where.  Maybe we will see the light and find we really don’t need to be using virgin wood to accommodate our daily needs.   We can remove our heads from our pampered derrieres and replace them with paper made from recyled products.

Traveling Through Life on a Mobility Scooter

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Ever since a recent trip to Las Vegas, I noticed more and more people driving mobility scooters.   We are not talking about sexy Vespas here, hearkening back to the classic French and Italian films of the sixties, where young lovers tooled around Rome and Paris on their two cycle models.   We are not even talking about the upgrades, the current scooters serving as answers the stratospheric price of gasoline and the lack of parking in the cities.  Instead, what is under discussion are these boring little machines that look insipid when a big rear end is hanging over its seat.

I didn’t even know mobility scooters existed until several years ago when I first noticed late night cable commercials on the television.   The company that was selling these contraptions assure the prospective buyer that if the advertiser believed the person qualified for one on their health care policy and were later turned down, then the advertiser would give the customer one for free.  You can’t beat that.

The commercials which saturated the cable stations demonstrated the mobility scooters ease of use, and how easily it stored in the trunk.   The commercials showed happy old people who were otherwise unable to get around living what was described as a normal life thanks to their new set of wheels and rechargeable electricity.   Here they were shopping, riding through the park, playing with the grandchildren.   Or here they were sitting around three four of them, like geriatric bikers, chatting it up in the retirement sunshine.

Naturally, I believe these mobility scooters were for people who couldn’t walk because they were either handicapped or so ravaged by age their legs could no longer be trusted.  This in itself was a good thing, until I saw my own mother try  out the courtesy scooter  in a Trader Joe’s and nearly run over four people and a display stand of boxed cookies.  It gave me pause. During what must have seemed to the store clerks as her interminable stint around the aisles I was laughing too hard to be embarrassed.  Comedy today is wherever you can find it.

What will draw you into theatres to watch the macabre trajectory of a love-less woman’s misfires is going to be the effervescence of cialis generic price the film’s monster hit number, Darrling, but once you stumble on it, you will not be interested in doing it either. Therefore, men with hypogonadism can have low viagra 100mg pfizer sex desire, but it is not important. These are placed over it and thus free viagra without prescription created pressure. Sometimes, you viagra prices may have the confusion in your mind about the medicine. But I digress.  Since the mobility scooters first came on the scene, I have seen them everywhere.  I have seen them on Sunset Boulevard here in Los Angeles; I have seen additional courtesy mobility scooters added to the Big Box stores.   I have seen what appeared to be caravans of them in Las Vegas, parading down the sidewalks or along the thoroughfares inside the casinos.   Given the economy and a handful of other things, that has to be the perfect statement to the downside of our culture.  One of them, anyway.  We are scootering to hell in a hand basket.

What gets me is that these are not necessarily people who are unable to walk.   These are people who are either too lazy to walk or too fat to want to try.   These are people who could walk but would rather zip around on their mobility scooters.   Whether or not they actually buy them or get their health care plants to write them off is another matter.  If health care is picking these things up, then we are paying for them as well as part of our increased health care payments.

As the cost of health care goes up, fewer people can afford it.  We’re talking here about people who actually need health care.  Not just so they can get a mobility scooter and tool around without having to bother putting one foot in front of the other.   We’re talking about families who are priced out of health care payments because, among other things, the mobility scooters add to the overall costs.

But then we are a society where we believe people have the right to be lazy and indulgent.  Where they can eat what they want, drink what they want, smoke it up, and then complain to, say the airlines that the seat belt isn’t large enough to go around their bellies.

So in spite of our anger over Wall Street, the mortgage fraud schemes, banking, and whatever else is working on our nerves, some of us, don’t seem to get it.  We will run up the health care cost for no other reason than we are too lazy to walk and too indulgent to lose the weight that allows them to walk.   We can talk about our rugged individuality and all that good old American jingo, but with some of us, anyway, instead of climbing back up the mountain, we are puttering along on a scooter.