Rapid Eye Reality

Getting screwed: The Live Blog

2008-02-19T09:37:00.006-05:00

9:00am: Two days ago, my wife told me both of our uptairs toilets had problems. By problems, she meant they were flushing, but doing so all over the damned floor. I accused her of being unlucky and told her to buy some Drano. No Home Depot product worked. A day later, she called the plumbers. I started to get cranky.

9:20am: The plumber arrived. I am already disappointed because the guy is not fat and I doubt there will be any butt crack joke availability. In fact, he's thin, fairly good looking, has a stylish haircut and makes a point of covering his shoes before he walks on my floors. He smells like chewing gum and cigarettes. I fear I might be headed toward some sort of alternative lifestyle fantasy fodder, so I'll leave it at that.

9:28am: I take the guy on a tour of the upstairs. The wife has cleaned up, I guess just in case we want to impress the plumber. I tell the guy the toilets won't flush. I don't think he's listening.

9:32am: Here are a few of the quotes from the plumber over the past few minutes.

"You really want to stay away from toilets with rounded fronts."

"You really want to stay away from Drano. There's acid in that. Not a lot. I mean they can sell it at Home Depot. But there's acid in there and that can cause you problems."

"You really want to go for a toilet with a square front. They are a bit enlongated and, if you know what I mean, a little more man-friendly."

Yeah, I don't know if he was hitting on me or not.

9:34am: Wow, why the hell didn't I see this coming? You call a plumber to fix your toilet and he tries to sell you a new toilet? Really? This happens? Now, I'm no fan of my cheap toilets. I'd even buy some new ones to replace these if I thought it was going to save us any time and plumber fees. So, this guy thinks I'm buying what he's selling. And I'm probably going to make the purchase until Mr. Man-Friendly tells me the new johns are going to run me more than $600. Apiece.

9:35am: Using smelling salts and a few kicks in the ribs, Mr. Man-Friendly gets me up off the hardwoods. I try to find a way to play off my lack of consciousness. "And, so how much just to fix the ones I have?" I ask. And then I get it. They try to sell you on the NASA Space Shuttle toilets and quote you the price. So, when you get the actual quote for the repairs, you are actually happy about what would normally be sticker shock. In fact, by now, I am downright excited to spending $400 for what is certainly a couple minutes of witchcraft and probably some generic Drano. And somewhere along the way, I buy the Ben Franklin service plan, titled cleverly enough, "The Ben Society." A stich in time and all.

9:41am: I leave the guy to "snake" my toliets. The "snake" looks more like a military-grade weapon. It sounds like it, too. What's happening upstairs sounds like the plumber destroying everything on the second level of my house. I hear running water and a lot of banging. Before this is over, I feel certain I will need a new toilet after all.

9:57am: Man-Friendly is really putting on a show. He's made more noise than any service person in the history of our house. I've heard the two upstairs toilets flush three or four times apiece. Somehow, I feel certain, the guy is going to come down and tell me, despite his best efforts, he's going to have to sell me some $600 toilets.

10:00am: I think this guy actually hates my family. As he comes downstairs, he quietly says, "They are unclogged." The sound in Man-Friendly's voice sounds like a guy who just watched five of his buddies die in battle. He has a 1,000-yard stare and quietly says as he goes to his truck, "No more baby wipes."

10:02am: I actually feel bad for Man-Friendly. "I've never pulled so many out," he says. I'm sort of glad my kid isn't here, because the guy will realize the boy is now three years old and ask why there are still baby wipes around. I protest briefly, "They are called flushable wipes." Man-Friendly responds, "They are not."

10:09am: The guy seems to have come back to reality. "I think they call them flushable just so they can sell more of them. They don't disintegrate. Anything they can get hung up on, they will." I am actually disturbed by the concept of what the wipes could possibly get hung up on. I find myself actually happy writing a check for $400.

10:20am: Mr. Man-Friendly is gone and everything seems to be in working order. I'm pretty sure that means we're going to have a major plumbing disaster in about six hours.

Thank goodness I joined the Ben Society.

Porn

2008-02-17T14:11:00.008-05:00

I am not on a diet.

I probably need to be. Beginning in early July, I started to notice that my lifestyle (fast drinks, fast food, no exercise, etc.) was starting to manifest itself in tighter pants. Those once roomy blue jeans started to feel a tad tighter around the man-parts.

I am loathe to exercise, though. I don't mind getting exercise by accident, but making myself sore for the purpose of making myself sore just doesn't jibe with my generally lazy attitude toward life.

The wife, however, is more than a tad into a new self improvement program. The early results are fairly striking. I don't dare go into specifics, but suffice it to say that the other night I felt like I was cheating on her when I stole a peek as she was getting ready for bed. Who is that woman?

The upshot of all of this is that I haven't been eating much either. Our frequent trips to the local Mexican joint have been cut back to almost none. Take-out? Haven't seen it. A huge meal slathered in butter and bacon from my devil-may-care hands? Haven't cooked one. What's more, I've had a grand total of four beers in the past 23 days and I've gone out to play cards once. Finally, I've reduced my diet soda intake by 80%.

Combine all of that with the fact that my buddies have either been ill, busy, or, in one case, caring for a newborn, and you have an Otis that has not been tending to his hendonistic side.

Frequent readers will note that my hedonistic side is, in a word, significant. I like huge, fatty meals. I like to take a drink or six. I like to be...okay, I'll say it. I like to be irresponsible. The combined factors above, however, have led me to a rather quiet lifestyle that, albeit healthy, leaves me wanting. For everything.

So, take a trip into my bedroom, if you will. The hard wood floors are shiny. The bed is soft. The pillows are feathery. The TV, while inadequate, is packed with hundreds of channels of DirecTV goodness. On any given night, I have choice upon choice of what I can watch before I go to sleep.

Every night I settle on pornography.

At first, I didn't think my wife would be interested. That kind of programming has never really suited her more delicate side. When I first turned it on, I expected her to sigh, roll over, put on a sleeping mask, and go to sleep. Instead, she grabbed my hand and squeezed. A small gasp escaped her lips.

"I want that," she said as a man with nimble fingers worked on TV.

I didn't respond at first and just watched her watch the TV. It was sexy and dirty and touched off every unsated nerve in my body. I heard her breathing quicken and had to steal a glance for myself.

Sure, Alton Brown was no John Holmes, but he would have to do.

For the past three weeks, the Mt. Otis television sets have been filled with little other than food porn. From Anthony Bourdain's exotica to Alton Brown's Dr. Ruth-style science, we have lapped up every bit of it. We've watched chocolate sculpting, how Pop Rocks get made, and reruns of Iron Chef (during which I developed an inexplicable crush on Iron Chef Cora as she berated her help for not removing the scales from a sea bass). If it weren't for an active Netflix account (make me your Netflix friend by clicking HERE) and an ongoing love affair with the Coen Brothers, we would be watching nothing but food programming.

I know what the experts say. This Food TV is a gateway activity. Before long, my wife is going to find me at 3am, naked in front of the fridge and eating sticks of butter whole. But I can't stop. Not right now.

I think Julia Child is coming on.

She gets me so hot.

The marriage bed

2008-02-14T10:55:00.004-05:00

My wife and I have a problem in the bedroom.

I've slept in more places than I can count--from five-star hotels to hammocks, I've seen it all. I've woken up on bare mattresses in houses I didn't recognize, in a bed with two other guys in New Orleans, and once or twice on a bar stool. I've slept on waterbeds, car seats, futon mattresses, and sleeping bags. For going on 12 years, I've shared these surfaces with the same woman.

My wife put up with my sleeping choices for a long time. I'm one who objects to change for the purpose of change. For the first few years of our marriage, we slept on a bed I bought in college from my then-bed-salesman buddy. He told me a got a "deal" on it, but I'm pretty sure I just paid enough commission for him to buy a dime bag. Regardless, since I dropped the cash, I figured to be buried with the mattress.

Several years back, my wife started complaining about quality of our sleeping surface. She begged me to actually buy a big boy bed. I fought her for months, but finally acquiesced after waking up impaled on a bed spring. It was time. The new mattress was perfect. I kicked myself for not giving in sooner.

The bed has served us well, as evidenced by the kid who runs around the house singing about the condition of his underwear and calling himself Mr. Incredible. Recently, though, superhero performances between mommy and daddy Incredible have been a bit off-kilter. As I said, my wife and I have a problem in the bedroom.

Across the fruited plains, couples will use this Valentines Day to celebrate the fruits of their marriage. Some might even do it with fruit. For many folks, this might be one of a few times they get it on all year long. Some of the more adventurous couples might get a hotel room, park bench, or back seat of a Chevette. Most people, though, will light a few Polo cologne scented candles, break out a can of Redi Whip, and head to the marriage bed.

I'm no engineer. My bedroom activity is more art than science. So, I don't know what's wrong. For whatever reason--excessive use, neglect, tectonic movement--the Mt. Otis bed is an unsafe place. The danger doesn't lie only in the freaky-freaky times. My wife and I can be sitting quietly in bed watching Alton Brown and, without notice, the mattress will fall off the bed rails and crash to the floor. When it happens during Good Eats, it's annoying. When it happens at other times, I almost feel the need to say, "I don't know what's wrong. This has never happened before."

There is a sound that perfectly describes the moment. While hard to put into words, imagine a trombone playing three descending notes of dispair. Wonh, wonh, wonnnnnnnnnh. If there ever was a picture of bad naked, it's me struggling against the weight of a giant mattress while trying to re-adjust the box springs in just such a way that the sleeping surface will not slip off the rails and crash to the floor.

The problem has been going on for a few months now. We tried everything to fix the problem. We employed our deepest knowledge of physics, our most spiritual pleas to higher powers, and--just once--called a shaman in to chant over our love nest. The bed would hold for days at a time. Then, at the most inconvenient of times, it would tilt, slip, and collapse like a house of cards.

My wife and I are adventurous to a degree. I mean, we've not yet joined a swingers club or anything, but we don't mind sleeping on a semi-dangerous surface. However, when the bed hits the hardwood in the middle of Good Eats, I stand a good chance of missing once of Alton Brown's witticisms. Nobody wants that.

In the spirit of Valentines Day, I trudged up to the bedroom this morning and wrestled the mattress and box springs off the bed frame (I was fully clothed this time). I opened my tool box, broke out the socket set, and prentended I knew what to do with with man-things. Thirty minutes later, I was jumping up and down on the bed, daring the mattress to collapse. It appears, for the moment, I have fixed the problem. However, with issues like this, the more you think about it, the bigger a problem it becomes. So, I'm trying not to think about it.

My wife and I made a deal for this fake holiday. No gifts, no flowers, no candy, no cards. We only plan to spend the evening together and, maybe, watch the decidedly romantic "Miller's Crossing" in bed. And I swear to Gabriel Byrne, if the bed hits the floor in flagrante delicto, I'm going to cry. Like a little baby.

Barack Obama: A different kind of popular vote

2008-02-13T12:22:00.002-05:00

I come from a generation of people who immediately disregard anything that gains any popularity among the general public. It's cool until other people like it. Then, "It's played, man. Played." These are the kind of people who support the Electoral College because they don't want to get caught supporting the popular vote. My, wouldn't that be embarrassing.

The only way for my generation to like something past its peak of favor is to hope for its death. If the anti-popularity crowd feels comfortable that which they like can be martyred, they won't feel embarassed about supporting it. There's no chance the object of their affections will sell out (see Kurt Cobain circa the Buckshot Overdose Years).

Hence, if something--anything--stays around too long, it runs out of cool fuel. A priest told me the other day (me and about 50 other people, but still) that we live in a throwaway society. Most of the things we like these days are disposable. We have neither the patience nor the will to make a commitment to something that will be around for longer than Britney Spears' sense of self worth.

Columnists with hipster backgrounds have started using perjorative words like "cult" and "religion" to describe what is happening in our nation. It is hard for a culture that eschews anything popular to accept what's happening to the Barack Obama campaign.

I understand this. Even I, a fairly reasonable guy, tend to disregard Oprah-picks. I, like most people, don't like being told what I should like and what I shouldn't. And really, when somebody suggests I'd really enjoy a Nicholas Sparks book, I have a hard time taking the recommendation or person behind it seriously.

That's what makes what's happening right now so important and interesting. This is something we 18-35 year olds (admittedly, I'm in the long-tooth end of the curve) have not seen our our lifetimes and something we likely won't see again. If Obama can find a way to court the important Old Racist and Institutional Washington voting blocks, he could very well be the next President.

Yeah, it's odd. It's strange to see people crying and falling out when Obama speaks. We, as a country, are naturally skeptical when people talk about being "inspired." We expect those folks to start speaking in tongues or bombing abortion clinics. Because "inspiration" too-often translates to "fanaticism." Fortunately for all of us, Obama isn't running with Eric Robert Rudolph. He's simply speaking a language a lot of us want to hear--and not in tongues.

If Barack Obama told me to put on a pair of Nikes and off myself, I'd say no. If Obama suggested it would be a good idea if I killed Sharon Tate, I'd say no--after reminding him the poor lady has had enough killing in her life. Hell, if Obama had an open house in Waco, I probably wouldn't attend.

But, if Obama suggests he will be the candidate who seeks to change the Washington paradigm and be a candidate for a generation of people who have never believed in anything, well, the guy has my vote.

Hermit crab

2008-02-12T10:48:00.000-05:00

I've left the house four times in the last sixteen days. I went to a Mexican restaurant with my family where I was mean to the boy. I went to my accountant's twice. I'm pretty sure I was mean to her as well, especially yesterday when she told me what kind of check I would be writing this year. Last night, after two weeks of being a hermit and rather crabby about it, I ventured back out into the world of other people for a weekly poker game. I was crabby there, too.

That, hopefully, serves as explanation for my lax posting schedule and general tone. It also, hopefully, explains why I have a hollow look in my eye and have grown a beard. If not, I have come up with a list of excuses.

Top 6 Reasons I Have Grown a Beard

1. I'm trying to teach my kid what strangers look like
2. I'm going undercover at a porn convention
3. I've started noticing changes in my body and hair in places I'd never had it before. Otherwise, I have no explanation.
4. I'm upping my efforts for Locks of Love
5. I misunderstood my gay friend when he said he needed a beard
6. I'm adding spice to my marriage by teaching my wife what strangers look like

I've actually taken to the hermit lifestyle very well. I have several manifestos in the works. I've researched mountain cabins where I can wait out the government. I've also started making a list of people who deserve to be poor and embarrassed.

Stephen Glass

James Frey

Laura Albert

Ruth Shalit

Jayson Blair

Can we all agree that fictionalizing one's life or the lives of others and passing it off a nonfiction is the cheapest form of art?

The easiest way to get people to like something is to tell them it's real. I really liked the movie "American Gangster." I probably would not have liked it any less if I'd known the movie was about 95% fiction. However, being told it was a true story and then learning it wasn't leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

I am endlessly fascinated by people who pull off grand hoaxes. I am not, however, impressed by people who decide their real writing and real life are too boring, so they create a fictionalized world and pass it off as reality. If caught, they call it performance art or a dramatization.

I'm on the rant now because of 90 Day Jane. Google her if you like, but I'm not linking. The concept behind the blog is Jane, a skinny, bob-headed twenty-something who quotes Fight Club, is going to kill herself in 90 days. In the meantime, she's blogging her daily exploits for the masses and making You Tube videos of her picking out her "death dress." My favorite crime blogger, Steve Huff is also a bit of a web sleuth and is pretty good at solving web mysteries like this. In this case, unlike the case of John Twelve Hawks, I don't give a diddly damn.

Oh, screw it. Hereya go.

I've spent the past two weeks working my way into a local cult that believes dentists are evil and the only way to defeat them is growing a beard and brushing our teeth with OCD regularity. There are two end-game scenarios within the cult. One, we all kill ourselves with sharpened toothbrushes and try to pin it on the dentists. Two, we all get our own reality show on FOX.

Either way, it looks like we're gonna be famous.

Take a letter to Kublai Khan

2008-02-08T11:10:00.000-05:00

I hate it when I get like this. It's nothing I can define outside of "uninspired." Even that isn't entirely true. The best word is "blank." I am 100% blank right now. It's one of those times where just about nothing sounds like fun and all my normal distractions (movies, books, poker, music, etc) lose their luster way too quickly.

If I were to write right now, it would be about the following things.

Sixty seconds away from my brother's house in the tony community of Kirkwood, Missouri, a guy walked in to a city council meeting and started killing peoople. Before he was done, he had shot seven people, killing two police officers, as well as some city council members and other members of city government. A reporter and the mayor of the city were also shot. At the very same time this was happening, a sugar refinery not too far from here in Savannah, Georgia blew up. At the time, the casualty numbers seemed astounding. I started flipping between every major cable news network. Here's a rundown of what they were showing:

FOX News: Britney Spears coverage
CNN: Britney Spears coverage
MSNBC: A pre-packaged hour-long bio on Hillary Clinton (funny enough, the DirecTV guide showed the program listing as "The Mind of Manson.")

I mean...come on.

I'm not a big Phish disciple, but I found this article absolutely fascinating. Probably something about being an aging husband and father with a wild and crazy history. Via Coventry.

My friend E asked me to write a guest post for her professional blog. She's a political reporter out of Austin who is getting ready to see the onslaught of national media and candidates in Texas. She asked for some advice she can pass along to her colleagues. My only regret is the censors cut out the only really funny thing I put in there. It involved the word genitalia. Regardless, you can find it HERE

Finally...the other day, I was perusing plastic surgery websites in preparation for a rant about the industry. I came across a doctor who specialized in...wait for it...vaginal reconstruction. I suppose I should've assumed there would be such an area of expertise. I didn't realize, however, how popular a surgery it is. Among the specialities within the specialties is labiaplasty. I'll admit, I looked at pictures, because...well, really, who doesn't want to see before and after images? Let me warn you. This is absolutely Not Safe For Work. Do not open this link if anyone else is around. I feel a little weird linking it at all. However, science is involved and I think we can all stand a little enlightenment. NSFW.

Yeah...let that carry you through the weekend.

Poultry Primary sees winner and running mate

2008-02-07T13:45:00.000-05:00

DATELINE: TYSON FARMS -- Even the memory of Colonel Sanders couldn't save the one-time Poultry Party golden child from the deep frier. After a campaign that lasted through six months of egg collection, Buffalo Wing has claimed victory over Chicken Fingers in the 2008 Poultry Primary. Wing will face Beef Party candidate Bone-In Ribeye in the November general election.

Super Tuesday saw Deep Fried Turkey suspend his campaign after a weaker-than-expected showing in southern states. The big bird's Wing endorsement all but locked up the nomination for the bite-sized appetizer. Chicken Fingers made a last minute appeal for votes, most notably trotting out the great newphew of Colonel Sanders himself for an endorsemnt. Poultry Pundits say Cappy Sanders ended up doing more harm than good when he had a heart attack on stage and attributed it to years of eating fried chicken.

Buffalo Wing did not waste any time after his landslide primary victory. Saying it was time to start looking toward November, Wing chose a running mate and began courting the swing state beef voters. Despite Wing's strong finish, many analysts say the choice of a running mate harkens back to a 1980s political disaster in the Presidential race. Bone-In Ribeye has already quipped, "I've met your running mate, Wing, and, sir, he is no Jack Kennedy."

Super Wednesday

2008-02-06T09:18:00.000-05:00

Poultry Primary to continue as two-bird race

Within a period of one hour last night, Blogger ended my 16-hour Super Tuesday blog, my kid woke up with some sort of freak-out, and a friend showed up at my front door. He shoved his daughter into my living room, held up a video camera, and said, "Full documentation." He got his wife to the hospital just in time to have a second little girl, this time with no time for happy drugs.

I made it to sleep by about 4am and have risen to realize the Democratic race is only now about to get exciting. More on that soon. However, I also realized that the Democratic primary was not the only contest left unfinished. As I said in the waning moments of the Super Tuesday Live Blog, Bone-In Ribeye won the Beef Primary. The Poultry Primary, however, is still going.

Despite a late surge, Deep Fried Turkey said early this morning it will end is candidacy. "I think I probably failed to realize how fickle the American public can be. Come Thanksgiving, everybody will want a piece of me. Unfortunately, Thankgiving comes after Election Day. America is just not ready for the whole bird." Before leaving the stage, Deep Fried Turkey offered his endorsement to Buffalo Wing. "When it comes down to it," DFT said, "we're pretty close to the same thing. Except, Wing goes better with beer." DFT then left the stage, his security detail and a huge bottle of peanut oil close behind.

This morning, the spin from the remainining candidacies has been hard to follow. Here are just a couple of snippets from each candidate's campaigns.

My friends of a feather, I ask that we come together in the spirit of unity. Ribeye has been chosen to represent the Beef party while we sit in the coop undecided. Ribeye is a good steak. It is hearty and satisyfing, no doubt, but it does not represent what the American eating public is about. It is not the food of the common man, sitting in front of his TV during the Super Bowl, the World Series or the NBA finals. It is not being served with pitcher of beers but with fancy wines. It is not representative of what the working man can afford to eat during their sporting events.

It is time to get out of the henhouse and into the smokehouse. It is time for us to fully endorse the Buffalo Wing to be our candidate!

The Buffalo Wing has a history of uniting the people. It was in the early days when the wing itself teamed up with the drumstick to become one. Now, the breaded and naked come together, as do the sauce and sauceless. Hooters, Buffalo Wild Wings, and KFC are united in the backing of the wing as our candidate.

Buffalo Wings are a nation's food. Easy to prepare, affordable, great with beer, it is a food of the people. Whether a busty babe is setting a platter of 911 breaded wings in front of you or the BW3's girl is serving those tasty spicy garlic drummies, it is the chicken that goes with everything.

And we don't offer empty slogans. We offer the truth. Hooters make you happy! Are we wrong? NO! We need your vote today. BW3's sums it up, You Have to Be Here!

Back us today, Buffalo Wing for the Poultry Party!

--StB, campaign manager for Buffalo Wing

Some have said we were afraid...chicken even...to run in this election. But we are not afraid. We are here to ruffle feathers. We will not waiver against these Turkeys. Make no bones about it, buffalo wing supporters. We are letting our Fingers do the walking...all the way to the White House...because no matter how many bad eggs are out there...the CHICKEN...COMES...FIRST!

Richard Cluck (P), Tennessee (aka Uncle Ted), state campaign chair for Chicken Fingers

With two candidates left, it is up to you to decide who will face Bone-In Ribeye in November. Polls are open. Vote in the comments now. Polls close at 9am Thursday.

Super Tuesday Live Blog

2008-02-05T08:29:00.000-05:00

12:42am--Of course, Blogger sticks it to me in the waning moments...

12:27am--CNN gives Missouri to McCain. President McCain...still getting used to that one.

12:25am--CNN gives California to Clinton and McCain. That's not how I wanted to end the night.

12:21am--Damn, that was fast. NBC calls Californa for Clinton.

12:14am--Clinton wins Arizona, but the story is in Missouri. With 98% reporting, Obama has a 5,000 vote lead out of nearly 800,000 votes. The Associated Press has called the race for Hillary, already. So, I'm confused. Regardless, how the hell about it?

12:11am--Ari Fleischer just said on CNN that Republicans would kill to run againt Hillary and the tight race tonight is ideal for Republicans because Obama and Clinton will have to tear each other up in the net several weeks.

12:04am--Huckabee wins in Tennessee

11:45pm--Highlights from Obama's speech. And damn it, I'm still inspired.

Also sends thoughts and prayers to tornado victims, then takes a shot at federal government response times

"There is one thing on this February night to know. Our time has come Our time has come. Our movement is real and change is coming to America."

"We are more than a collection of Red States and Blue states. We are and always will be the United States of America."

"We don't have to settle for politics where scoring points is more important than solving problems."

On this Tuesday in Feb...what began as a whisper in Springfield has swelled to a chorus of millions....This time can be different, because this campign for the Presidency of United States is different. It's different not because of me. It's different because of you."

"In this election, at this moment, you are standing up all across the country, not this time, not this year, the stakes are too high and the challenges are too great to play the same Washington game. This time must be different."

Conciliatory marks about Clinton

"This fall we owe the America people a real choice. We have to choose between change and more of the same. We have to choose between our future and our past."

"Our party must be the party of tomorrow, and that is the party I intend to lead as the President of the United States of America."

11:40pm--McCain speaks in Arizona: "Tonight, I think we must get used to the idea that we are the Republican Party frontrunner...and I don't really mind it one bit."

And thanks to Pokerwolf for the invite. I could use both.

11:33pm--Rapid Eye Reality is ready to make a projection. Taking an astounding 95% of the vote, Bone-In Ribeye has clinched the Beef nomination. Analysts say Ribeye not only ran a good campaign, but had the funding that Hamburger and Philly Cheesesteak couldn't pull together. Even after a last-minute push poll from Cheesesteak suggesting Ribeye preferred to be served with A-1, Ribeye managed to reach the table in perfect medium rare form. Left unanswered tonight, which of the Poultry candidates Ribeye will face in November. Ribeye said tonight, "Poultry? Are you kidding me? I come from a cow. Have you seen what a cow can do to a chicken?"

11:29pm--Huckabee! Huckabee, you dog. You BULLdog. Going and winning Georgia tonight. How adorable.

11:27pm--Damn, Missouri is tight. Obama is closing in. May end up to be a 1 percent difference when it's all said and done.

11:22pm--On a personal note, I could use: A massage, a six pack, a plate of steak and eggs, and some Visine. Maybe a box fan.

11:20pm--CNN exit polling data out of California is pretty damned interesting. Obama is carrying the black vote by a huge margin. He is also winning modestly in the white vote. On the same hand, Clinton is killing Obama in the Latino and Asian vote.

11:18pm--Re: the previous entry, ABC news differs a bit.

11:13pm--On the delegate count, G-Rob sends along this witchcrafty news from the Obama campaign. The upshot is Obama's people believe they've got the lead.

11:11pm--Romney wins Minnesota.

11:07pm--CNN is finally showing me what's going on in Missouri. As expected, Obama is winning in the cities. Outlying KC areas and St. Louis city are still out. It's tight, but Obama has to crush the above areas to win there.

11:00pm--Mitt wins North Dakota.

Also polls have closed in CA.

10:57pm--So much for the 100th comment. And hey to the new folks!

10:55pm--Hillary is speaking. I'm...meh. Here are a few clips of the soundbites and thoughts of the night from Hillary Clinton's speech in New York.

"Tonight we are hearing the voices of people across America...those who aren't in the headlines but have always written America's story."

Prayers go out to people in Arkansas in Tennessee where tornadoes touched down.

"Tonight is your night. Tonight is America's night."

"Poltics is not game. It's about your lives and your futures."

10:54--Who is gonna get the 100th comment?

10:48pm--Bless G-Rob. Here's the laugh of the hour via IM:

Brian Williams is now reporting that after his speech in Boston, Mitt Romney turned back into a cassette playing boom box and headed to his meeting with Optimus Prime.

10:44pm--Garth asks in the comments, "Is it just me, or is Huckabee a more effective speaker than Romney?"

We were just talking about that here. Huck can give a speech. It can be a bit cheesey at times. However, that's Republican speech writers for you. Regardless, the guy had great delivery and will make a great ambassador someday.

10:41pm--McCain wins Arizona. I also got me kid to tell me he loves me tonight.

10:38pm--I think there's baseball reference to be made vis a vis Obama playing small ball to Clinton swinging for dingers. I saly know fuck all about baseball, so I'm going to leave it to somebody else.

10:33pm--"One thing thats clear is, this campaign is going on." That from Mitt Romney just now. "It's not all done tonight. We're going to go all the way to the convention and win the White House."

In other news, I'm going to win Powerball tomorrow night and have a nice steak dinner with Dorothy Mantooth. She's a saint, you know.

10:32pm--Obama wins Minnesota, CNN projects.

10:29pm--Huckabee says Roll Tide and then wins 'Bama.

10:25pm--G-Rob, my friend, live blog producer, and eternal optimist when it comes to things he wants, is back online and reminds me the overall vote is not nearly as important as where those votes are coming from in terms of Congressional districts.

In many cases districts have say 4 delegates and they'll each get 2. The key is districts that have an ODD # of delegates. Obama, thanks to some DAMN SAVVY campaigning, is doing VERY well there. Therefore he'll pull a massive delegate margin out of IL and GA. Whereas Hillary crushed him in TN but will only beat him by a net of 8 delegates.

10:21pm--Two more for Obama. Kansas and Connecticut.

10:13pm--I'm not entirely sure why the networks aren't calling my home state of Missouri for Clinton yet. I haven't seen what precincts are out. I can only assume they are waiting on St. Louis and Kansas City. Otherwise, Clinton beat Obama's ass. Obviously, I'm missing something.

10:08pm--Here's Mike Huckabee's soundbite of the night: "Over the past few days, a lot of people have beenn trying to say that this is a two man race. You know what? It is. And we're in it." He just said it in Little Rock as his...beautiful wife Janet stood behind him. He started talking about spiders and rocks shortly after that and I got confused.

In related news, my wife just told me Huckabee was born in Hope, Arkansas just like Bill Clinton.

10:06--Obama picks up North Dakota. In other news, I just picked my foot up off the ottoman for a couple seconds. Both have about the same amount of meaning.

10:04pm--Sooners like McCain. He's going to win the state by a fairly narrow margin. President McCain? How does that sound?

10:00pm--The 10pm projection from CNN:

Romney: Utah. No! Really?!! His supporters in Boston look like they are cheering for a 10-year-old kid who is playing on a losing soccer team and is running around the field in a leg brace.

9:56pm--Expect to hear the following talking points from the Obama folks in the next little bit.

They are winning states by a dominant amount and losing by smaller margins.
Wait for the caucus states - their organization is better there.
She should be winning her home state by more. The margin is comparable to her margin in Michigan.

Via Politico.com

9:50pm--Hillary wins New Jersey.

9:45pm--CNN finally went with NBC on the Clinton wins Massachusetts projection. Politics really are more fun when you don't give a damn.

9:41pm--Double bubble? Really? Really.

9:36pm--More national exit polls...

Democrats Top Issuse:

Economy 47 percent
War in Iraq 30
Health care 19

Republicans Top issues:

Economy 38 percent
Immigration 24
War in Iraq 20
Terrorism 15.

Via ABCnews.com
9:30pm--Obama, as expected, wins Alabama.

Meanwhile, my wife has joined me in the Obama slump funk and sends the link that asks if Chelsea Clinton might have bungled some election laws.

9:26pm--Funniest comment of the hour comes by way of the on-the-road CC.

Reporting from London, Ontario. All of Canada seems to have shut down as everyone watches Super Tuesday to learn the names of the different states that don't border Canada.

9:22pm--If I were Mitt Romney...I'd be a Mormon. And better looking.

Beyond that, if I were Romney, I would've spent a few of those $35 million bucks to frame Mike Huckabee in a Larry Craig wide-stance situation. Just sayin'.

9:20pm--McCain takes New York, CNN projects.

9:15pm--NBC news is calling Massachusetts for Clinton. CNN isn't committing yet. Writing seems to be on the wall, however. I need a shot of adrenaline. Or just a shot of something.

9:09pm--I think we have already seen what tonight is not. Tonight is not an embarassment for Hillary Clinton. Whatever bounce Obama got out of South Carolina is not going to take him high enough to walk away tonight with a sense of confidence he'll get the nomination. California, of course, is still the big state in play. It looks like conventional wisdom will win again and we'll still have no idea in the morning who the Democratic nominee will be.

Obama's crew obviously knew that before today. This morning, they were working hard to reduce expectations going into tonight. I can't help but feel, however, that Hillary avoiding getting embarrassed tonight is exactly what she needed. She didn't need to nail Obama to the wall. She needed to have a good showing. So far, she is. That may be all she needs to take it to November.

9:08pm--Obama takes Delaware.

9:00pm--Here come the 9pm projections...

Clinton--New York, a state should couldn't lose.

....and that's it.

8:45pm--With fifteen minutes until the big 9pm closings, the networks are projecting John McCain will win Delaware.

8:33pm--CNN says Hillary Clinton to take Tennessee.

8:32pm--Can you imagine being Mitt Romney tonight. Dude spent $35 million of his own money on this campaign. Buyer's remorse, anyone?

8:30pm--No big surprises out of Arkansas. Hillary Clinton, one-time first lady, will win the most Razorback delegates. Same goes for former Governor MIike Huckabee.

8:24pm--A couple of not-so-noteworthy oberservations...

Barack Ombama's supporters cheer very well. That said, someone needs to handle them better. When networks take live shots and the supporters cheer so loud you can't hear the reporter talk, you're sort of defeating your purpose.

Also on reporters...earlier today I questioned which SNL cast members were working on their Presidential impressions. Something else to consider is that the reporters who are embedded with the candidates have no small amount at stake in the outcomes. The reporters who are covering the candidates now stand to be the White House reporter for their network if their candidate wins.

Not a bad gig...

8:13pm--Now 12 hours into this live blog, we are nearing 80 comments. I've put down about eight Diet Mt. Dews and a couple Excedrin. Rapid Eye Radio is running somewhat smoothly. Still, I have an ugly feeling. Not sure what it is. It would be a lot easier, I guess, if I didn't care.

8:08pm--CNN projects John McCain will carry New Jersey.

8:00pm--CNN projections from Central Time and 8pm closing ET states:

John McCain wins Connecticut, Illinois
Romney carries home state of Massachusetts

Barack Obama takes home state of Illinois
Hillary Clinton wins Oklahoma

7:44pm--Politico.com gives us a sneak peak at what we'll be hearing from Clinton supporters tonight re: her loss in Georgia. These are the talking points.

Unlike the Obama campaign, the Clinton campaign never dedicated significant resources to Georgia.

Sen. Obama spent over $500,000 dollars on ads on television and radio; we never went up on TV

The Obama campaign has 9 offices in Georgia. The Clinton campaign only has 2.

Sen. Obama has had staff and significant campaign operation across the state for 8 months. Sen. Clinton only deployed staff to the state in the last couple of weeks.

Polls have consistently showed Sen. Obama with wide lead over Sen Clinton. That lead has only widened over time.

Translation: We knew we had no chance there, so we didn't even try. So, don't hold it against us.

7:36pm--Tornadoes in Arkansas and Tennessee touch down while polls are open. Reports of damage, but no word on casualties yet.

7:26pm--Interesting exit numbers based on all our talk today about experience. Democrats most important attribute in choosing their candidate

Bring needed change: 52 percent
Best experience: 23
Empathy: 13
Best chance to win: 9

Via ABC.

7:18pm--Drudge has some early exists across the nation. These should not be seen as anything but really early projections...

OBAMA: Alabama: Obama 60, Clinton 37... Arizona: Obama 51, Clinton 45... Connecticut: Obama 53, Clinton 45... Delaware: Obama 56, Clinton 42... Illinois: Obama 70, Clinton 30... Massachusetts: Obama 50, Clinton 48... Missouri: Obama 50, Clinton 46... New Jersey: Obama 53, Clinton 47...

CLINTON: Arkansas: Clinton 72, Obama 26... California: Clinton 50, Obama 47... New York: Clinton 56, Obama 43... Oklahoma: Clinton 61, Obama 31... Tennessee: Clinton 52, Obama 41...

7:12pm--It appears we've been relieved of Richard Quest on CNN's California primary coverage. While an entertaining Brit, the guy has no place in serious coverage. Whoever thought he could be trusted should be fired.

7:05pm--Holy schnikes. G-Rob reports MSNBC exit polls are showing Obama wins 86% of black voters in GA and 43% of white voters. Black voters made up more than half the voters in the primary. In a word...mamacita.

7:00pm--Easy win for Obama in Georgia. Still waiting to see the breakdown. That may take a bit. Still a three-way race for the GOP.

6:58pm--Georgia results coming in shortly. In the meantime, I'd like to see your answer to Andy's comment...

I can't feel good about voting for any candidate based on what they say they will do, or how they stand on "the issues."
in the last republican debate Ron Paul said he agrees with Bush....or at least how Bush ran in 2000. this is because Bush ran on many things in 2000 which he didn't come though on. what candidates promise to do is pointless, it's just words. they don't have to stay true to them one their on office.

also, and in my opinion more importantly, the "key issues" that are facing us now will most likely not be the most important thing this president will have to deal with. we're not electing this guy/gal for 6 months...a term is 4 years people. thngs change. when Bush ran in 2000, the key issues everyone asked about was not Terrorism, not Iraq, not our borders, not how our rights would be treated. However, now, 8 years later, those few issues are the big issues that defined George Bush as a president.

I don't see how I can vote according to the issues of today when most likely the most important thing this president does is on a subject that hasn't come up yet. I think the only way to vote is by Character, by how good of Leader he/she will make. I need someone I can trust to make good decisions for 4 years, EVEN if that means I don't agree with them on medicare, or social security, or Iraq.

thoughts?

6:46pm--Alright. Forget it. Was trying to set up a voting system for the beef and poultry. First ad had a milfhunter ad in it. The second was ugly. You want you food, vote for it in the comments. I'm going to change out of my cranky pants.

6:17pm--Well, if things are going to happen, they are going to start happening soon. Polls in Georgia close in less than an hour. Chaos has overtaken Mt. Otis. I'm going to stop this until it quiets down in here. Back in just a bit.

5:54pm--The sure sign someone is losing? When you start hearing, "My opponent isn't playing fair."

Here's how it went down in West Virginia today. In the first vote of the Republican Convention there, it looked like Romney had a good shot. It further looked liked McCain didn't stand a chance. Because no candidate got more than 50% of the vote, convention delegates had to vote again. McCain's camp decided to make a play and, knowing Huckabee is no threat to win the primary, asked its voters to vote Huckabee. So, they do, McCain gets next to no votes and Huckabee takes the majority over Romney. All delegates go to Huckabee and Romney...well, he cries. Hic campaign manager said, "Unfortunately, this is what Senator McCain�s inside Washington ways look like: he cut a backroom deal with the tax-and-spend candidate he thought could best stop Governor Romney�s campaign of conservative change."

5:46pm--Presented without comment.

When I am this party's nominee, my opponent will not be able to say that I voted for the war in Iraq; or that I gave George Bush the benefit of the doubt on Iran; or that I supported Bush-Cheney policies of not talking to leaders that we don't like. And he will not be able to say that I wavered on something as fundamental as whether or not it is ok for America to torture � because it is never ok� I will end the war in Iraq� I will close Guantanamo. I will restore habeas corpus. I will finish the fight against Al Qaeda. And I will lead the world to combat the common threats of the 21st century: nuclear weapons and terrorism; climate change and poverty; genocide and disease. And I will send once more a message to those yearning faces beyond our shores that says, "You matter to us. Your future is our future. And our moment is now." --Obama, November 10, 2007

Via Wil.

5:41pmBest headline I've seen today:

Huckabee scores first in West Virginia, presumably with a relative

Well, yeah. It was from Fark.

5:33pm--Rapid Eye Radio is back online. Looking like the next few hours will have some Widespread, Uncle Tupelo, Ben Harper, YMSB, Scott Miller, Donna, Cigar Store, and other fun stuff. Enjoy. Or don't. [link corrected]

5:24pm--First exit polls in...not at all surprising.

In the Republican vote, most people voting for Romney and Huckabee call themselves conservative. Only half of McCain voters call themselves conservative.

Among Democrats who make up their mind in the last three days, the vote was split evenly between Obama and Clinton.

5:19pm--CNN is reporting exit polls coming soon. That should be interesting. Oh, did I ever mention that if I ever just give up on life, I'm going to open an adult video store and calling it "Coming Soon" ...?

4:58pm--Via CJ via MSNBC...

Romney releases statement saying McCain cut a backroom deal with Huckabee to keep Romney from winning West Virginia. Huckabee releases a statement basically calling Romney a whiner.

5:54pm--Apparently it's not just the folks in Virginia who are a little confused. KSAT reports the good people of San Antonio are wondering why thier polls aren't open. Something, yada yada, Texas not having a primary, something or other.

4:43pm--Hey, who is gamblin'? Crack producer G-Rob ships these lines from Slate.

Democrat lines

Republican lines

4:34pm--Somebody called Madonna. Via G-Rob, the silliest thing I've heard yet, this one from New York magazine.

The "Evita factor" could make all the difference on Super Tuesday, says New York. Hillary Clinton has a major advantage over Barack Obama among Hispanic voters, which will be crucial in large states like California. One theory holds that Latinos are more willing to embrace Hillary because of precedence in Latin America for strong women who rode their husbands' coattails into power

Um...yeah. Let's forget the nation's largest Spanish language newspaper endorsed Obama.

4:31pm--One interesting thing I'm noting among all of comments so far is how adamant everyone is that we shouldn't vote for a candidate. I'd be interested to hear from anyone who is actually for a candidate and why.

4:28pm--On the subject of grassroots campigning in the digital age, G-Rob forwarded me this recent e-mail from the Obama campaign:

Friend --

Today, nearly half the nation will have the chance to join you in saying that we are tired of business-as-usual in Washington, we are hungry for change, and we are ready to believe again.

Twenty-two states across the country are holding their primaries and caucuses, and you can help Get Out The Vote in these crucial contests.

Use our online calling tool to reach out to fellow supporters. Encourage them to send a message that America is ready for a new kind of leadership and a new kind of politics.

Make calls using our online calling tool today:

http://my.barackobama.com/feb5calls

You can make a big impact -- the more calls you make, the more people will take part in their state's primary or caucus.

Thanks for everything you've done,

Barack

4:21pm--In all this political talk, the other races of the day are getting lost. As I mentioned at the top of the day...

On the Beef Ticket, voters have three choices: Hamburger, The Philly Cheesesteak, and The Bone-In Ribeye.

On the Poultry Ticket: Chicken Fingers, Deep Fried Turkey, Buffalo Wings.

At this hour, it appears the Ribeye is going to win in a landslide. Polls actually open HERE at dinner time. Stay tuned and campaign away!

4:16pm--Rolling Stone reports John Mellencamp is tired of John McCain using his songs at rallies. Discuss among yourselves.

3:50pm--CJ asks in the comments, "Would support John McCain, then? During their time in the Senate, who showed a better ability to reach across the aisle and get tough legislation passed, John McCain or Barack Obama?"

Would I support McCain? Good question. He is, by far, the best Republican candidate running for the nomination. I think he has a lot of talent in reaching across the aisle. If he weren't so hawkish, I might be able to support him.

Also in the comments, Uncle Wilco reiterates, "The question was what would you change? Health Care? Taxes? Economy? How are is candidate going to do that?"

Here is a little background on where I'm coming from. I spend as much per month buying private insurance for my family as I do paying my mortgage. That insurance doesn't cover much of what a normal family has to deal with on a regular basis. Do I think a change in the healthcare system is necessary? Yes. Do I think socialized medicine is a great idea? Maybe not. However, I have many friends around the world who don't have any problem with the level of care they get under such a system.

Under a Republican administration, I've spent more in taxes than I ever have. Meanwhile, my government is engaged in a war with my money...a war that many of us agree should never have started.

Today, we are seeing the worst sell-off so far this year. The economy is in shambles. My portfolio (nothing but blue chips and purchased eight years ago) is worthless.

Add to all that, a small subset of the Republican party pretty much turned my professional life upside down about 18 months ago.

Do I think Obama is the perfect candidate? No way. Do I think he will fix many of my issues? I don't know. I do know, however, he is speaking my language.

I'm no spring chicken. I have barely participated in national politics in my adult lifetime, largely because I could never support a canadidate even 75%. I don't know what will happen if Obama is elected. This time, however, I've decided to care. It may come back to bite me in the ass. Naive and idealistic? Sure. It may be time for that. I'm sick of being a fatalist.

But, if it's wrong to wish for the nation to not be at war, to hope for people to work together to fix a broken economy and healthcare system, and to believe there is someone who actuallly want to make that happen, then color me wrong. Dead wrong.

3:46pm--Quote an interesting discussion getting going in the comments. Take a look if you have the inclination.

3:26pm--Uncle Wilco asked in comments, "Since I hear a lot about the need for change I have a question for the people out there looking for change. What are you hoping to change (besides Iraq?), and exactly how are your canidates going to do that?"

I think by asking about Iraq parenthetically you diminish how important it is. That may not have been your intention, but to ask what we want to change besides that makes me wonder how many people don't see it as the single biggest issue in the past thirty years.

That aside, what change? It's a change in the way America thinks. I know it sounds naive. I hate to sound naive. Regardless, I know how America has operated in my adult life. It's been an environment of hopelessness. When it comes to matters of policy, few if any candidates are speaking about changing through unity rather than battle.

If I want America to talk rather than fight, is that wrong? I don't know if anybody has the ability to repair a fractured country, but I'm inspired by someone who wants to try.

2:58pm--My buddy, E, is laid up with the flu. That sucks for her, as she would rather mainline political coverage than any other drug. She is a junkie unlike anybody I know. She actually gets paid to do this stuff, so she's in quarantine and live blogging from her bunker in Austin. You can find her HERE.

2:53pm--A lot of you reading types are poker fans. If you're not one of those people, you might not know that 1) Obama enjoys a good game of cards and 2) Jim McManus is probably the best poker writer to emerge in the last ten years. My buddy Iggy posted this enlightening McManus column.

2:43pm--Dr. James Dobson, Focus on the Family honcho, took a huge shot at John McCain today, writing, "I cannot, and I will not vote for Sen. John McCain, as a matter of conscience." And if McCain gets the nomination? "I believe this general election will offer the worst choices for president in my lifetime."

I'm trying to think of another way to say "fractured party..."

2:38pm--CJ points out via IM that what looks like a McCain slaughter in WV is actually gamesmanship in play. Looks like McCain's supporters went Huckabee to keep Romney from winning. That's cute.

2:33pm--Rapid Eye Radio is taking a brief nap. Like a damned teenager after a roll in the hay. Or something like that. Back up shortly.

2:23pm--Huckabee wins West Virginia. Go figure. That's 30 delegates that will be doing something else come convention time.

2:15pm--From Politico.com vis live blog producer G-Rob, re: Dole pile Romney stepped in...

Mitt Romney just tried to give Bob Dole a quick call from his campaign plane in West Viriginia.

He got Dole's secretary and left a message.

2:06pm--Looks like West Virginia Republicans are rocking and rolling again. We;ll see if they can make up their minds this time.

1:45pm--Drudge is reporting "The board of elections failed to deliver voting equipment to polling places allover Los Angeles." That can't be good.

1:41pm--Robocall! Robocall! This hit Arizona phones this morning.

This is Ann calling on behalf of Hillary Clinton for President. Hillary Clinton has been a tireless fighter for seniors [unintelligible]. Barack Obama has said when it comes to Social Security all options should be put on the table. That includes raising the retirement age and cutting benefits. He has even proposed raising Social Security taxes by a trillion dollars. Hillary Clinton stood up to Bush�s plan to privatize Social Security and is against raising the retirement age. When you go to the polls tomorrow cast your vote for the Democrat committed to protecting Social Security as we know it: Hillary Clinton.

Via The Hotline

1:35pm--Why is CNN's fashion and lifestyle reporter doing election coverage?

1:20pm--This is pretty neat. It's a Google and Twitter thingy that is showing Tweets from voters around the country and world related to today's primaries. You can find it HERE.

1:08pm--As I told G-Rob a few minutes ago, I would rather be sitting around with everyone listening to music, watching returns, drinking beer and arguing. Since that's not going to happen, I scrounged around for a way to play some music to background this today. You can find it at Rapid Eye Radio.

It doesn't require any downloads or anything. Just hit play on the linked page. There is a java-based player that kicks off with a promo for the site and then the station should kick off.

The next little bit will feature the Jerry Garcia Band, Donna the Buffalo, Cross Canadian Ragweed, the Beatles, and some other stuff.

1:01pm--Via G-Rob and CBSNews.com...it is getting more than a little ugly between McCain and Romney. Apparently Bob Dole wrote a letter to Rush Limbaugh stating...

McCain is a friend and I proudly wore his P.O.W. bracelet bearing his name while he was still a guest at the �Hanoi Hilton,�" Dole writes. �I believe our major candidates are mainstream conservatives and that our nominee will address our concerns..."

How does Romney respond? He says of Dole, "[He is] probably the last person I would have wanted to have write a letter for me."

Yeah, that's the way to win friends and influence people. More at CBS.

12:54pm--Romney wins 41% of vote in West Virginia Republican Caucus. Because no candidate got a majority of the vote, a second round of voting is coming up.

12:34pm--The weather is somewhere between 65 and Awesome degrees here in southeast. G-Rob reports big turnout in Georgia and predicts we'll see an Obama landslide called before my kid is in bed.

12:25pm--I have no idea how I got on Mike Huckabee's e-mail list, but it's proven to be rather entertaining over the pas several weeks. One of my favorites came in overnight.

We just finished a campaign event here in Arkansas. The crowd was great and very enthusiastic. Arkansas will lead the way for us tomorrow as we begin to add to our delegate count. Polls in Missouri, Tennessee, Georgia and Alabama also show this race too close to call. We are in the middle of the fight for the Republican nomination and our hopes are running high.

What we need to do tomorrow is turnout every Huckabee supporter we can. Last minute reminder calls and messages to voters are going to be critical. Every vote counts. To help fund this effort in Tennessee, Missouri, Georgia and Alabama we are relying on you to help us close the gap. We are $215,000 away from reaching our midnight goal of $1,000,000 for get out the vote efforts.

Will you make an immediate contribution of $25 or more?

Please help us reach our goal. I will make a final decision on how many reminder calls we will make tomorrow based on the financial resources we have available at midnight. Reaching our goal will give us the resources we need to win in the states we are targeting.

I am counting on you so please consider making a contribution immediately.

Anyone feeling like re-arranging deck chairs on the good ship Huckabee?

12:15pm--Does anyone find it even vaguely amusing that even Rush Limbaugh is having a hard time getting behind the likely Republican nominee?

11:48am--And it's time for the conservative voice. CJ, a longtime blogging partner at Up For Poker, decided we neeeded a little more Elephant on this side of the blogosphere. Here's his take. I'm sure we'll see him in the comments later.

As the conservative talking heads continue to cry about John McCain not being a "real conservative," I challenge them to tell me who in the race really is. Mitt Romney? The one-time liberal governor from the most liberal state in the nation. The guy who fought to separte himself from Ronald Reagan in the 80s? Is it Mike Huckabee? The tax-raising governor of Arkansas? Sure, he's got the religious folks behind him, but he's not conservative. Was it Rudy Giuliani? Pro-choice, anti-guns. Need I go on? This race had one true Reagan Republican, Fred Thompson, and no one wanted to vote for him. Forgive me for borrowing from Donald Rumsfield, but you go to the election with the candidate you have, not the candidate you want. If conservatives want higher taxes and socialized medicine and a surrender mentality in foreign policy and up to three new liberal members of the Supreme Court, then all means ignore John McCain and support the Democratic nominee in November.

11:39am--Oh, and Perez Hilton supports Hillary. We gotta pull this out of the gutter.

11:30am--Here's a question...of the current Saturday Night Live cast, who gets which candidate? I have to imagine, they are all already practicing and probably basing thieir hopes and dreams on who wins.

11:02am--If you haven't been keeping up, here's a look (Courtesy CNN Politics) at the states in play today.

10:55pm--If you're the kind of person who looks to celebs to give you a heads-up on your voting choice, George Clooney is backing Obama. So is Bobby De Niro. So are three members of the Grateful Dead. Ugly Betty of ABC fame is Clinton supporter. Rambo loves John McCain. Chuck Norris, who apparently can't cure cancer with his tears and has no sense of humor, likes him some Mike Huckabee.

10:52am--A brief aside...why is there no Windows-based program out there that allows me to easily create a quick pirate radio station and stream directly from my iTunes? Sorry about that, but it's become a bit of an obsession. Back to the politics.

10:18am--In the interest of fairness, I should point out the extended Otis family is quite divided on this race. My brother, known as Crazy Smart Guy among his friends--mostly because he's a lot smarter than me in most academic arenas--is no fan of Obama.

I'm a doctor. The only thing I know more about than the average Joe is
Healthcare. On this issue, Obama is a fool (or should I say the people who wrote his "plan" to save healthcare are fools).

...

Basically, he wants to create a national health insurance that ANYONE and EVERYONE can purchase at a rate that is on a sliding scale based on what you earn, etc. Employers will be REQUIRED to either offer private health insurance or contribute more payroll taxes to the government plan.

There are MANY more insane details that are completely impractical and don't even BEGIN to address the REAL issues related to the healthcare crisis.

BTW, it's going to cost about $65 billion dollars (and that is the CAMPAIGN ESTIMATE). I'm sure the actual cost would be easily 2-3X's that amount. Also, he plans to pay for it by increasing taxes on those who make over $250,000. Sounds like a great idea. Why don't we raise taxes on doctors who already pay nearly half of their salaries to the government to fund poorly-run programs? And if you think that doctors make too much anyway, you should know that physician salaries make up only 8% of healthcare costs.

I could go on and on, but that is just ONE reason to not vote for Obama.

Obama Healthcare FAQ (PDF)

9:51am--At G-Rob's urging, I went all grassroots yesterday and sent an e-mail to friends and family in Missouri and Colorado asking them to vote. In particular, I tried to sway them toward my candidate of choice. One of my buddies--one I didn't expect to take heed--sent me a nice reply. I'll let him take credit for it if he wishes. Regardless, yea grassroots.

You, sir, now have my promise. I was on the fence, could vote for him with a quite-clear conscience if only he wasn't for letting or keeping every illegal immigrant in, but I like most of the other stuff he is for, and if his weakness is his lack of experience, well, it very well could be his strength in that he would be less likely to be beholden to the political machine and good-'ol boy network that has ruined the world for the last decade. Enjoy. Voting for him shall likely be the highlight of my day...

9:30am--You know what makes me giggle? Conservatives who break the 11th commandment. If you're not familiar with it, it's the unwritten rule that a Republican does not speak ill of another Republican. Now, here we are on the most important primary day in history and great thinkers like Pennsylvania's one-time Senator Rick Santorum are saying things like, "John was very rough in the sandbox. Everybody has a McCain story. If you work in the Senate for a while, you have a McCain story. He hasn't built up a lot of goodwill." That one, coming from a guy who fought McCain on immigration and same sex marriage issues, is cute. This one, though, is a downright kick in the ass to the 11th commandment. It comes from Senator Thad Cochran, a guy who used to be my Senator in Mississippi... "The thought of his being president sends a cold chill down my spine. He is erratic. He is hotheaded. He loses his temper and he worries me."

9:16am--Obama wins! In Indonesia. In a Dixville Notch-ish round of early voting, expats in Indonesia, a place where Obama lived for several years as a child, went to a hotel to cast their votes. Early counts show Obama winning...which should do him a helluva lot of good come convention time.

9:01am--Polls are stupid. G-Rob sent this poll data along this morning. The Reuters/CSpan/Zogby poll has Obama up +13 in California. SurveyUSA has Clinton up +10. As G-Rob points out...both polls were conducted on the same day. Statistics...

8:52am--Happy Mardi Gras, by the way.

8:30am--I've asked myself several times why I'm going to bother doing this. I'm not CNN, Politico.com, or even Gawker. I'm just one of the hundreds of other people doing this. I'm a niche-less blogger with more time on his hands than good sense.

That said, I have some experience in the world of politics and news. I have developed a passion about this race. I need to find someway to help me wrap my head around what happens today. And like John Gorka once sang, I tend to make my mistakes outloud. So, here it goes.

I decided that I'm going to do live blog Super Tuesday for the same reason that I did it on Election Day in 2006. I'm doing it because this is a night I would like to be sitting in a bar with my closest friends and family and watching our nation change. This, quite frankly, is better than watching the Super Bowl. Today means something. I want to share it with you folks.

So, the comments are open. Use them as your playground.

Today is the closest the United States has ever come to a national primary. Two dozen states will be voting or caucusing.

David Axelrod, Barack Obama's main man in the trenches--the guy who got him elected to the Senate in 2004 and has helped shape the Obama image since--summed up how today is expected to go. Yesterday he told Politico.com's Ben Smith, "Sleep late."

Why?

California.

With conventional wisdom saying this primary might not be decided by tomorrow, what happens in California late tonight will be more than important. Hillary Clinton was the favorite in that state until just a couple of days ago. As such, Axelrod seemed more than a little concerned about early voting and how that could affect Obama's chances there.

I have no rules for this blog today. It will go where it goes. I may give up and hide in a closet by news time. As a one-time registered Apathist, I am now a Barack Obama supporter and make no apologies for it. If today goes as I want it to, Obama will have a strong showing and McCain will lock up the nomination.

Finally, some of you may remember the other race run in here in November 2006 between Hamburger and Chicken Fingers. There were some passionate supporters of both candidacies. As this is primary season, we'll be looking to nominate a candidate from both parties.

On the Beef Ticket, voters have three choices: Hamburger, The Philly Cheesesteak, and The Bone-In Ribeye.

On the Poultry Ticket: Chicken Fingers, Deep Fried Turkey, Buffalo Wings.

Four conversations

2008-02-03T10:47:00.000-05:00

Conversation with my son just now:

"There's a man in my sack with the corn." He says this while holding a corn-filled heating bag.

"The man in the sack said 'everyone attack' and he's sitting in the sack with your corn?" I ask. The kid does not get the Ballroom Blitz reference and moves on.

"Yeah, there's a man in the sack. I cut him up. His head and his feet. They're in the sack with the corn." The kid looks as angelic as the day he was born. On neither that day nor this one did I hear Ave Satani in the background.

"Well, that's sort of strange," I say.

The kid doesn't blink. "Yeah, it's strange." And he goes walking off with his sack, which may or may not have a dismembered guy in it.

***

Conversation with the media

Last week, the TV station I used to work for ran this story in the first block of news at 11pm. If you don't have time to click through, it's about a car vs. deer wreck.

Yeah. Complete with repeated images of the dead deer hanging out of the windshield of the car.

This is quote from the story is about the lady who was injured in the wreck. It pretty much sums up how classy my old haunt has become.

Cardell Lindsay, said, "They were saying she was real bloody, but they think most of that blood came off that deer because that deer came through the windshield. He's dead. I seen him."

Five years ago, the deer story never would've made it to a photographer's tape, let alone on the air...let alone on the air for a full minute and half with "Exclusive" stamped on it.

Exclusive? Really?

For most people who read across the country, this may seem par for the course. This particular station, though, was long considered to be protected from and above the FOXification of America. It was a bastion of real news. Now, it's running "Exclusive" stories about something that happens every day. And they are showing pictures of dead animals on TV.

What sucks is, I know the guy who had to produce the story. He came along after I left, but I've met him since and I think he's a helluva good reporter and a nice guy. I can only guess he was forced to do the story. I can only hope, anyway. The station used to be managed by people who respected their viewership as much as they respected the profession of journalism. Now, it is the same station that recently ran a series titled, "Are You Too Fat For Your Car?" and has semi-regular reports on the status of Britney Spears' collapse.

Hell, it's like watching someone you love die in the hospital. It's sad, sick, and painful. I still have many friends there who I'm sure wish they were able to do the kind of work they did a few years ago. My hope for them is the station's ownership realizes what they've done to what was once one of the most respected local news stations in the country.

Or, if I need to speak a langauge that might be understood...

"Journalism at that station is dying. I seen it."

***

A conversation with security

I hate the fucking circus. I really do. I only go because I don't want my kid killing some guy and putting him in a sack full of corn because I didn't take him to see the elephants.

The only good thing about the circus, as far as I'm concerned, is it is great fodder for my Flickr account. My buddy CC bought me a Flickr PRO account recently and I was looking for more good material. So, as I have for the past three years, I walked up to our local arena with one of my Nikons hanging from my shoulder.

At the door, several security guys were half-heartedly wanding the crowd. Had I wanted, I could've smuggled a kilo of blow, a machete, and a howitzer in my pants.

"Is that a detachable lens?" the security guy asked.

I was already a little cranky anyway. I've been on the wagon for a week and work is a little stressful. All I wanted was to have a nice afternoon with my family and maybe get one or two good pictures.

"Yeah, it is."

I knew what was coming at that moment. I remembered the same conversation playing out at the World Series of Poker. There, the exclusive media provider (read: we pay money to be the only people allowed to properly cover this event) established a rule that forbade cameras with detachable lenses.

"I've never had a problem with this before," I told the security guy.

"Every circus is different," the guy shrugged. "You can walk it back to your car or we can have someone escort you guest services."

My car was less than five minutes away, but I couldn't resist actually being escorted by security to make sure I didn't get my 18-70mm lens in any clown's face.

To his credit, my escort was a really nice guy who tried to make me feel better about the entire thing. "It's a copyright thing," he said while steam rose off my forehead.

I wanted badly to launch into a PETA rant about abused elephants and how the tigers should eat the ringmaster. Instead, I took a valet ticket that read "#285" and watched the show without taking any pictures.

I hate the fucking circus. More.

***

A conversation with you

About fifteen months ago, for lack of something better to do--and because I was very excited about the day--I live blogged the whole of election day. At first it was just a way to keep myself occupied. Eventually, it became a conversation with you. After more than 14 hours of live blogging, the post had 113 comments and was a great conversation to boot.

Super Tuesday is going to be another one of those days. I'm going to be fabulously preoccupied with the goings-on around America and I'm planning to live blog the day. If any of you folks would like to join me, the comments will be open.

See you then.

TMZ, McDonald's, Circuit City, and nipple slips

2008-02-01T09:48:00.000-05:00

"Schadenfreude is the greatest joy."

Americans, perhaps, caught on late to the concept of schadenfreude. We arrived so deep into the game of reveling in others' misery that we who speak English don't even have our own word for it. Maybe it was because, in the early days of colonization, we were too busy actually building a country to make fun of the fact John Smith had syphilis. Or, maybe our Western wit had failed to sharpen to the point needed to truly take pleasure in other's misfortune.

Today, though, it is fair to say America has embraced the concept of schadenfreude. Or, in the spirit of many American "creations," we stole it from somewhere else, bastardized it, and made it trite and disgusting.

In 2005, TMZ.com did not exist. Today, it gets millions of hits per month and is used as a source by major news networks. Its popularity has grown to such a degree, TMZ advertisers have included McDonald's, Kraft, Proctor and Gamble, and Circuit City.

To be fair, who among us hasn't enjoyed seeing Paris Hilton be a celebitch? Who hasn't taken a little pleasure in seeing some of the world's biggest stars without make-up? It diddles a little spot in our brains to see the ivory tower of celebrity is often made of soap. I look at TMZ and its ilk like I would porn--alone and mildly embarrassed about it.

Embarrassed, however, can quickly turn to disgust. In the few years since TMZ sprang up from the gutter, it has devolved from reporting celebrity news to exploiting such laugh-a-minute subjects as drug abuse and mental illness. One need look no further than the last few months of coverage of Britney Spears.

In 2006, TMZ head honcho Harvey Levin, the one-time television b-lister and People's Court hack, told the New York Times, "Britney is gold, she is crack to our readers. Her life is a complete train-wreck and I thank God for her every day."

Levin must have been on his knees a lot in recent months, because Spears has gone from flashing her netherparts to full blown mental destruction. In just the past couple of weeks, Spears has twice been sent to psychiatric facilities against her will. According to TMZ, Spears has recently been declared "Gravely Disabled," meaning she is now a candidate for involuntary commitment.

Pretty damned hilarious, no?

TMZ and Levin will claim they are only reporting the news as they find it. It makes no difference to them whether Spears' bipolar disorder is "news" per se. It makes no difference whether the reporting of a quick mental decline and the family strife it causes is gross and exploitive. It makes no difference if TMZ mixes its "reporting" with descriptions like "popwreck." TMZ will report it because people read it. Nay, people enjoy it.

It would be easy to let TMZ slide as the slumlords of celebrity entertainment industry. It is usually within its legal rights and, apart from not giving a damn who it hurts or destroys, it can be commended for its dogged determination to sniff out every detail about what Brad Pitt wore to dinner Friday night. What's more, it's getting paid...and big time. So, who can blame'em, right?

Most readers of TMZ probably don't know that it only exists because of the ownership and funding of media giant AOL/Time Warner. Indeed, the same people that give you CNN, Time Magazine, HBO, Court TV, Sports Illustrated, and the Cartoon Network give you TMZ, home of the exploitation of mental illness and pictures of celebrity's nipple slips. If not for the backing of one of the world's biggest media companies, some people might be able to lose their minds without having millions of people watch it happen. But, really, who can blame AOL/Time Warner, right? If there is money to be made and readers to satisfy, who cares if it helps the nation poke fun at bipolar disorder? In the long run, it's all about profit.

The profit is there. It's not the readers sending in contributions. It's not subscription fees. It's advertising and lots of it. Take a peek at just a couple screen shots from this week's coverage.

If you don't care to click through to see the larger images, what you're looking at there is McDonald's sponsorship of the announcement that Britney Spears has been declared "Gravely Disabled." The one below that is Circuit City's sponsorship of TMZ's "Nip Slip" page, an entire section dedicated to nipples that have somehow made their way out of celebrity's shirts.

Here should begin a long lament about the downfall of American culture. Here should start the waxing nostalgic about a time when human decency rose above corporate profits. Here should be the part where we ask "At what point did exploitation and prurience become the stuff of corporate sponsorship by the likes of Ronald McDonald?"

Indeed, it should be the point we ask that. However, it likely won't do any good, if there is any good to be done in the first place. Ronald McDonald probably thinks he is being a good corporate citizen by not having TMZ TV streaming in all locations. If McDonald's can sell a McRib because you wanted another look at Britney Spears going nuts, then all the better. The good thing about it is that we won't have to blink when pictures of Britney Spears' suicide appear on Circuit City TVs and are accompanied by a Happy Meal toy.

This is not a defense of Britney Spears. It's a defense of human decency.

What makes schadenfreude the lowest form of humor is its complete lack of effort and creativity. America's schadenfreude artists wait for someone else to create something and then eagerly dissect it for a cheap laugh and a feeling of personal or corporate worth. It's such an easy buck that an entire industry has built itself on making the world's lamest of spirits feel better about themselves.

Perhaps the worst thing born from this cultural enlightenment is the ability to become famous through failure. One only need watch American Idol to see that failure is a quicker road to fame than talent. The shortsighted fail to see their fame will last just long enough to make them a little money and the subject of ridicule for the next several years. After that, it's back to failing on a smaller scale.

Just about every major language has a way to describe schadenfreude, that funny little word with no English equivalent. Similarly, just about every major language has a way to say "Schadenfreude is the greatest joy."

In every culture but our own, that final quote is meant to be ironic.

Of best chances redux

2008-01-31T11:47:00.000-05:00

"We're not voting for inspirational-speaker-in-chief."
--CJ, in the comments to Of best chances

The people who don't want Barack Obama to be President of the United States are united in their message: He has done nothing, he has proven nothing, and his inspirational kumbaya speeches are just a clever throwback to forty-some years ago. These same people will have you believe that their candidate is better suited to solve the problems of our nation because they will fight, fight, fight against the opposing party, against the terrorists, against the people who seek to destroy our way of life, moral fiber, and old ladies. Obama, they say, lacks the experience necessary to be the leader of the free world.

It's a pretty strong argument. So strong, I'm not going to spend a great deal of time trying to fight against it. It stands to reason, if I hire the most experienced babysitter to look after my kid for four hours, I should hire the most experienced person to babysit my nation for four years. Right?

Well, maybe. When I go looking for a babysitter (or, if you think I'm being too glib, extend the argument to anything for which you hire based on experience), I have a wide variety of people who have actually been babysitters before from which to choose. When I'm electing a President, the pool isn't very big. In fact, unless I want to re-conscript Jimmy Carter or George H.W. Bush, I've got nobody I can put in office who has the kind of experience everybody is looking for.

The simple fact is, the training ground for being a President really doesn't exist. The closest anybody comes to being prepared for the Presidency is being Vice President. I'm not saying that any of the remaining candidates aren't prepared for the job. I'm simply arguing that when it comes time to take the oath, anyone elected will be entering uncharted personal waters. That's why they have advisers, a Cabinet, and a system of checks and balances.

But, the Governors! Think about their experience. That's what Proto said in his comment. "Governors usually make better executives than senators or congress folk," he wrote. Historically, he may have an argument. I'm not goingg to fight on that. If we're to go with Governors this time, though, it's Huckabee or Romney. I do hope you'll pardon me if I discount both candidacies out of hand. I could spend a few hundred words explaining how those gents are not aligned with my way of thinking, but I think most of you know me well enough to know I ain't gonna be voting for either of them. What's more, I've known enough Governors in my day (Mel Carnahan, Kirk Fordice, Ronnie Musgrove, Jim Hodges, and Mark Sanford to name the ones with whom I spent the most time) to know that, while good men and decent leaders, they are no more qualified to run the nation than Governor George Bush was.

With experience being a non-factor in my decision, I am forced to look to policy, leadership skills, and personality. As I wrote in the previous post, no one candidate combines all three to my satisfaction. I can't imagine, unless one of my best friends decided to run for office, that I'll ever find anyone who is the perfect candidate.

And so, I look for inspiration. I look for a message that meshes with what I hope for the country. I look for someone who has vowed from the outset to do his best to unite a very divided country and work toward a greater good on which we can all agree.

CJ wrote, "We're not voting for inspirational-speaker-in-chief."

I, for one, hope to. If Obama can inspire a guy this jaded and cynical, he stands a good chance of inspiring a nation.

It may sound like a lot of feel-good, smile-on-your-brothers, hippie drivel, but I want to live in an inspired country. In inspiration, hope springs.

And in hope, there is often peace.

I'll take that any day.

Of best chances

2008-01-30T11:30:00.001-05:00

I do not talk about a lot of things with people I care about. I avoid confrontation at most times and it takes a lot to push me to the point at which I start running my mouth. Among the things I usually don't discuss: abortion, religion, and politics. I have recently, though, crossed the line and started discussing politics in places I normally would not. I guess if I can admit it to the people I care about, I can admit it to the world at large.

I want Barack Obama to be the next President of the United States.

A bit of disclosure: I have never voted for a Democratic Presidential candidate. In fact, I haven't voted in a Presidential race in years. In the 15 years I've been allowed to vote, I have never been inspired by a candidate or what he represents. Whether it is just great marketing--and I think a lot of it is--or it is the real deal, Obama offers me that kid of inspiration.

In an interview with CNN last night, Hillary Clinton made a lot of sense. She said her first days in office would be dedicated to putting together a plan to bring America's troops home fast. She would overturn a number of Bush's Executive Orders that have infringed on our civil liberties.

Maybe it's lip service. Maybe she wouldn't do any of it. Regardless, it's what I want done. The war, the bad beat on civil liberties, and the collapsing economy are among the first things I need to see fixed before I start believing our country is headed in the right direction again.

So, why, if Clinton is promising to do the things I want am I supporting her opponent? It's pretty simple: Clinton represents in word, action, and symbol everything that has made me hate politics and the process for as long as I can remember. She stands for fighting the Republicans at all costs. She believes any means is appropriate to her end. I can't look at her without thinking "gridlock." I think she probably stands for the the right things, but I don't think she stands on a foundation that will support the weight of her dreams.

Obama's biggest critics cite his inexperience in leadership as a reason to discount his candidacy. I long ago rejected this argument. We elected George Bush after he governed one of America's biggest states and had the benefit of being the son of a President. I don't think I have to re-create the laundry list of how that experience has turned out. Hillary Clinton's brief experience ~~running for President~~ serving as a New York Senator and America's most pitied first lady doesn't really count--at least in my mind--as the kind of background I'd put above many other people.

I will be the first to admit, the Obama marketing machine is a damned good one. The people who have spent their time working to inculcate the parallels between he and JFK are really smart. They are smart because they are speaking to my generation and the generation before mine. We are people who want change and people who have seen how change can affect a nation. If it's all one big commercial, well then I'll be the first to congratulate the ad wizards. You got me.

Obama does not represent everything I want. In fact, I'm at odds with him on several issues. Frankly, I don't care. I have either fallen victim to his marketing machine or I am duly impressed with a man who speaks about working together, getting rid of the old Red State/Blue State BS, and serving as one people to reunite a country that has spent way too long divided.

I will be voting in this year's general election. And I hope I'll be voting for Barack Obama.

The bon temps

2008-01-29T09:56:00.000-05:00

"I don't want this to sound as morbid as it will," I said to my wife.

We were one of less than a dozen people in a bar as a long-haired country singer named Corey Michael sang on stage. We sat at the corner sipping our drinks and exhaling after two days of driving.

My wife raised her eyebrows and expected the worst. When I start getting morbid, she tends to laugh. It's a defense mechanism, I guess.

Around the corner of the bar, a guy with a sleeveless t-shirt and five o'clock shadow ordered a shot of Goldschlager, seemingly for no other reason than the bartender had a bottle. He turned up the drink and walked out alone a few minutes later.

This was the first time I'd been to New Orleans since Hurricane Katrina. In fact, it was the first time I'd been since 1998. I didn't know what to expect. I found that the original Tropical Isle was moved across the street in 2004, complete with a jazz funeral. I found that all the buildings looked newer than they had in the past, likely the result of a post-hurricane paint job. I discovered that Hand Grenades still taste the same, there is still a Lucky Dog vendor on most corners, and that there are still guys there who will try to run the old "I bet I can tell you where you got those shoes" con. It was, in short, a freshly painted version of the same place I'd been so many times before.

Corey was more talented than he should be, especially to have been playing in a bar on a Wednesday afternoon. The rumor had it that he had done some sort of American Idol work before moving to the Quarter to play five nights a week for $20 a set plus tips. I guess there are worse jobs. Before we left, we tossed a sizable tip in his jar and wished him well.

We would see similar stories up and down Bourbon Street. Our last stop of the night, in fact, we listened to a rather good funk band until they closed up shop. When the set was over, I felt compelled to buy the guitarist a beer. Color him unsatisfied with the gig. It was just a way to make money. The next night, he was sitting in at the House of Blues for a band I'd never heard of. That's the thing about New Orleans. Whether it was a classic rock cover band, a funk crew, or a lonely singer song writer, everybody there is better than the best bar bands of just about any city you go to.

Throughout what would prove to be a fantastic five days in southern Louisiana, I saw much and ate more--countless sausages, crawfish, gulf shrimp, a 20 oz. bone-in ribeye, shrimp and grits, gumbo, etouffee, jambalaya, you name it. I had some good New Orleans coffee, which I miss when I'm not there. Hell, my buddy Uncle Ted even sweet talked a waiter at Dickie Brennan's into giving up his "Otis" name tag. It was a nearly perfect trip.

That made what I said just a few hours into it all the more strange. My wife sat at the corner of the bar, her shirt the same color as her drink. She sipped and started taking on that smile-laced glazed look that lets me know she has relaxed. No, I didn't want to make it sound as morbid as it was going to, but I didn't have much choice.

"If you ever decide to leave me and take everything that means anything to me," I said, "this is where I will probably come to drink myself to death."

She shook her head in a way only she can.

Yeah, it sounded more morbid than it should've.

Done riding
More photos from the trip on my Flickr page

Dateline: New Orleans

2008-01-23T20:37:00.000-05:00

I couldn't get comfortable.

Something was wrong. We crossed Lake Pochatrain and my wife pointed out how bad the railraod bridge looked. I was dealing with spitting rain, bad traffic, and a bad case of tension. The city felt sterile and too new. I wanted to turn around.

Ten minutes later, we drove underground at the Royal Sonesta and found a parking spot that beat me like no other. I tried five times before giving up and moving somewhere else. This wasn't the laid back New Orleans I knew.

Finally, we walked for half an hour and reacalimated ourselves to the city we once knew as our own. When the Tropical Isle was on the wrong side of the street, I nearly suggested we go home. We learned later that it moved, complete with a New Orleans-style jazz funeral, in 2004. That made me happier than I'll be able to express right now.

I thought the city had given me up after my nine-year absence.

It only took three hours before I walked down the street with the feeling like I'd lived here for years. I've only been in town for five hours, but I'm 100% at home. As for why, that's a story for another time.

Tonight, we dine on nostalgia at NOLA. It was the place we ate when I got my first TV job. Tonight, we'll eat with the knowledge that television is long behind us. Better yet, our life is ahead uf us.

With lots to say and still lots to do, I'm not going to spend a lot of time on the wax tonight. Suffice it to say, we're in New Orleans and we're home.

Deep South Run: The Live Blog

2008-01-22T13:01:00.000-05:00

Scroll down for updates.

ANDERSON COUNTY, SC--Interstate 85, the major artery that runs from Atlanta, GA, through Upstate, South Carolina, and into to the northern reaches of the Southeast is a wet mess today. It is Mad Max dangerous, despite it running slower than it usually does. Nine years ago--back when I lived in this county, the stretch of four-lane interstate was home to the worst car wrecks I ever saw. It's not a backwoods county, but it was good ol' boy enough that I, for better or worse, ended up too close to the accident scenes. The most vivid memory is standing over a body bag as it was opened up. Inside was the top half of a human body, burned down to the bone. It was a kid on his way to college at UVA. His mom died in the same wreck, despite being in a different car. I still can't stop seeing it. It's been nearly a decade. Worse, though, I think was the girl who nearly had her head cut off by a car that crossed the center divider and went airborne. I spent a lot of time on invesitgations into why the state hadn't installed cable barriers in the too-thin medians. Eventually, after I saw more than my share of dead people, the state got its act together and installed cable or cement carriers for most of the length of this interstate in South Carolina.

Today, we denizens of Mt. Otis are on I-85 in Anderson County and headed south. My mobile work station is set up in the passenger seat, allowing me to maintin an online presence for my employers while still making tracks. It's a double-edged sword, this ease-of-working set-up. While it allows me to get some work done, it also puts the wife behind the wheel. She's a relatively safe driver, but also likes to nararrate the drive. We're seeing the same thing out the windows, but...well, we'll leave it at that. I'm tired and cranky and probably not the best traveling companion right now, either. Regardless, it's snowing now. Snowing chicken feathers, anyway. You'd have to see it to appreciate it.

Indeed, every breathing thing in the house came with is. The wife is decked out in a velour PokerStars jumpsuit. I'm in cargo pants and a two-layers of t-shirty goodness. The kid is kicked back in his car seat and watching The Incredibles. The dog, Scoop, is stoned out of her damned mind on tranquilizers. We won't be in Anderson County for long. Our journey is a week long and will take us through every state in the Deep South (unless you're one of those people who considers Florida part of the Deep South). Georgia is less on my mind than on the horizon.

More from there in a bit...(1:00pm ET)

HART COUNTY, GA--It's 92 miles to Atlanta and I'm hoping I've accidentally been knocked unconcious before we get there. Despite being the capital of the South and one of the most--if I dare say it--cosmopolitan cities within 600 miles, it's still Atlanta, which means it sucks sideways when it concerns anything involving travel. We have timed this trip to avoid anything resembling a rush hour. Still, we will slow down to a mere crawl when we pass through around 2:30pm. I know this because it's part of Atlanta's city charter.

So, why would we do this? Why would we load the car on a Tuesday and decide to travel across four states and back in a week? Why would we do this just a couple weeks removed from a ten-day work trip in the Bahamas. Well, it's a few things, really. First, I spend a few days every Janaury in Mississippi. Usually, I'm in Tunica playing poker. This year, circumstances made it such that that poker trip isn't happening. Still, the wife's family lives there, a scant few miles from where I used to live. Our first stop (not counting the six or seven bathroom stops we're sure to make) will be Jackson, Mississippi. That is about an eight-hour drive from Mt. Otis. After that, the wife and I will head down to New Orleans and hole up in the Royal Sonesta on Bourbon St. while we wait for several friends to make it in from out of town. After that it's marriage for one of our closest friends.

That's the real reason we are navigating through a rainstorm in 33-degree temperatures. When we left the house, it was 35 degrees outside. Now, it's 33 and threatening to drop more. The only thing hot in this county is the TOPLESS, TOPLESS sign as you cross the border. The locals love that one. But, really, in an area of the country where bare knees can sometimes be seen as too titilating, a topless diner was really a stroke of genius. Pun not really intended, but I'm leaving it there anyway.

Despite working on just a few hours sleep, riding with a headache, and having to work from the passenger seat of an SUV, I'm actually really excited about making it to the Big Easy. Outside of places I've actually lived, New Orleans is top of the list in memories. From bignets at Cafe Du Monde, to the food/drink at Fat Harry's, to a big mess of crawfish on my buddy Al's back deck, New Orleans used to be the place I went when I was looking for a place that wasn't home, but welcomed me like like I was a native son every time. (1:41pm ET)

SUWANEE, GA--I can smell Atlanta.

Actually, I can smell the remains of the fast food we picked up on the way out of G-Vegas, but it's close enough. Sprawl means you can smell and feel Atanta a good 45 minutes before you get there. I sort of feel guilt for making the wive drive the first leg of this journey. If I were officially off work, I'd be driving all of it. So, now, I'm fielding instant messages and offering snide opinions that are probably ill-advised.

I should have better memories of Atlanta. I've spent many a good night there. Saw the Braves make the World Series one year. Saw the Cigar Store Indians play with the Reverend Horton Heat while simultaneiously challenging people to play pool for money and picking a fight with a dwarf in a leather jacket. Once sat around a bonfire for ebout eight hours playing guitar when it was 40 degrees outside.

Despite all that, my best memories of Atlanta have been on nights I didn't actually go there. Really, the best things about Georgia don't happen along I-85. To feel really at home in Georgia, one has to go to Athens. Or, better yet, go to Savannah and cross the bridge to Tybee Island. There you'll find a place you can call home, if even for a weekend.

I find it a little odd that I'm nostalgic for a place I've not yet left. I consider the Southeast my home and, when and if I leave, I'm gonna miss it.

All of it except Atlanta, anyway. (2:00pm)

ATLANTA, GA--Gotta find a way to distract myself from this for a few minutes. How about you meet Al?

Al was the first Jewish guy I knew--or, at least, he was the first guy I knew that I knew was Jewish. After meeting Al, I had a hard time understanding what all the hubub was about.

Al was from New Orleans, but was attending the University of Missouri when I got there. He was a year older than me, but took me under his wing quickly. With a deep New Orleans accent--the first I could really indentify as such--Al led me to my first Mardi Gras in Febraury 1993. I occasionally look back at the pictures at the 19-year-old version of me--slicked back hair, denim shirt, no wrinkles, 15 years younger and more naive than seems possible. Naive in New Orleans is better than you might think. You never expect the trouble you're about to get into, so you don't know to be wary of it.

I won't wax forever on that trip. Suffice it to say, it was a series of firsts for me. It was the frist time anyone had walked up with a paper grocery bag and dumped five pounds of crawfish in front of me. It was the first time--and certainly not the last--that I pulled the crawfish tail out with my teeth, then crushed the head between my fingers while sucking the juice into my mouth. It was the first time I saw girls randomly taking their clothes off for no good reason. It was the first time I--a guy who had never even seen illegal drugs--saw somebody fashion a pipe using nothing more than a pencil and a roll of tin foil.

Al took me back to New Orleans again after that and I owe him big for introducing me to one of my favorite places in the world. We lost touch about ten years ago. I don't know what happened to him or his other running buddies, G and Sal. Damn, but we had a good time together.

I've been to New Orleans a lot of times since then. It has never been as good as that first trip. In fact, a couple of times, it was downright bad. However, a majority of my time in one of America's greatest cities was perfect. I am having a hard time not getting overly excited about it.

It occurred to me last night, though, that this is the first time I've been married in New Orleans. My love and I have been there together before, but never as a married couple. Shouldn't be too diferent, should it? (2:20pm)

TALAPOOSA, GA--Well, Atlanta wasn't as bad as it could've been. There was only one tragic SUV rollover accident and we only slowed to 25mph twice. Now, we're back on fast highway. It's I-20 for us now all the way to Jackson. Apart from being exceedingly boring, I-20 is a very reasonable stretch of road. We pick it up in Altanta and will run it all the way across the Alabama border. From there, it's pine forests, the Talledega Speedway, a sleepy little town where--as a one-man-band TV guy--I once chased a cop killer, Birmingham, steel towns, the Mississippi border, lumber yards, and finally Jackson. On the scale of interestingness, it's way the hell away from driving up the Pacific Coast Highway, but a sight better than driving across I-70 from Missouri to Colorado. You can trust me on all three of these. No drive compares to the PCH for beauty. The only thing I've ever seen that comes close is the Blue Ridge Parkway in October. And nothing is more boring than driving across the Kanas Plains.

It appears now, as well, that we no longer have to worry about the weather. The sun is coming out and the temperature is up to 41 degrees. I figure we'll hit Jackson by 7pm CT. That's not too bad.

As the pine trees plow by, or we by them, I find myself thinking about the worst thing I ever saw in New Orleans. I'd just left the Tropical Isle on Toulouse and ended up in the midde of a massive street brawl. It was Mardi Gras 1994 and it was so crowded that any fight between two people was going to turn into a riot. I was happy to escape with no blood on me. I turned the corner onto Bourbon and walked a block or two up. I didn't have to worry about toppling over due to intoxication. The last few days before Fat Tuesday meant the streets were filled to capacity. Like always, I followed the crowd's cheers and gaze. Nearly everyone on the block was looking up at one balcony. That usually means there's a girl taking her clothes off. I stopped and looked up...just in time to see a guy climb up on a balcony rail and scream "Woooooooooooo-hooooooooooooooo!" And then, completely against his will, and in line with how gravity usually works, the guy fell off the second story balcony and to the ground. I don't know how the crowd hushed quick enough for us to hear the guy hit the ground, but it did. If you've heard the old saying about a sack of potatoes...well, that was what it sounded like.

The guy was alive when the dragged him by me. His eyes were open anyway.

For the first time ever or since, I sobered up immediately. You just don't see something like that every day.

I walked a couple more blocks down when a girl ran full-chest into me.

"I'll kiss you for those beads," she said, pointing to one of the 100 strands I had around my neck.

I shrugged. "Okay."

"But," she said, "No tongue. I don't want to get AIDS."

I shrugged again. "Okay."

And then the girl stuck her tongue in my mouth anyway. (3:15pm ET)

TALLADEGA NATIONAL FOREST, AL--What sucks about Alabama is...well, that's just the start of the joke I'm not prepared to tell. Alabama gets a bad rap. I think it's guilt by association, what with it being so close to Mississippi and all. Alabama is actually a really pretty state. It would, however, be a lot prettier if it managed to keep its roadsides free of litter. We're now doing 75mph through the Talladega Natonional Forest, specifically, just crossing the border into Calhoun County and we're seeing a lot more trash than one should see. Here in just a bit, I'm going to take over the wheel and barrel as fast as is safe toward Jackson. The quicker I get there, the quicker I make it to Louisiana.

The previous entry here paints New Orleans with a rather ugly brushstroke. It's not always that way. Mardi Gras, I assume especially in the days before Hurricane Katrina, is an insane time in the French Quarter. It's no place for a kid and it's not really a place for anybody over 40. It's easy to get hurt. The rest of the time, though New Orleans is a place where one can lose himself temporarily or permanently, and do so quite happily. If you ever go, here's your must-do list:

See the Preservation Hall Jazz Band

Have a sandwich with extra debris at Mothers

Have bignets at Cafe du Monde

Drink at least one hand grenade at the Tropical Isle

Watch people sing karaoke at Cat's Meow

Have real New Orlean's BBQ shrimp

Eat oysters

Have a poboy

Go for a wash and drink at Checkpoint Charlies

Bonus points:

Spend an hour in Oz

Spend 15 minutes in The Dungeon

Spend half an hour in a Bourbon Street strip club

Sadly, I'm already regretting how little time I'm spending in New Orleans on this trip. I'm also already a little hungover from the bachelor party I'm attending...on Thursday. 2:41pm CT

EMBRY, AL--I don't get motion sickness. While that's not entirely true and a few guys who were on a North Sea ferry with me in 1997 might have a couple of stories, I don't get motion sickness. I've ridden in cars, trucks, planes, trains, boats, helicopters, and, verily, blimps and I've never thrown up.

Right now, that could change.

Alabama's road contractors decided to see if they could come up with a notion that overstepped failure. You know that motorboat sound you make if someone does the chop suey massage on your back? That was the noise we made for five miles while trying to talk. I feel like hell.

The road leading to Pell City and Birmingham has finally smoothed out, but I've lost my desire to look at a computer screen for a while. I'm going to fight for the steering wheel. If I succeed, I suspect the wife will take over the live blogging duties over at In Search of Walden. Note: Walden is most certainly NOT in Alabama. If she decides she'd rather listen to more 80s music, you'll hear from us again on the other side. Later, all.(3:05pm CT)

Prosecutors set to unveil evidence in Devon Epps case

2008-01-21T11:24:00.000-05:00

It's been nearly three months since Greenville County's top lawman said what most people already suspected:

"Amanda Smith is responsible for the death of her son."

With those words, Sheriff Steve Loftis prepared the community for what is sure to be an exceptionally long and drawn-out legal battle. The process begins this week.

Wednesday, Solicitor Bob Ariail and his team of prosecutors will go before Greenville County's top magistrate, Diane Cagle, and lay out the evidence against Amanda Smith. Or, in reality, Ariail will lay out just enough evidence to convince Cagle to bind the case over for trial.

It is, in short, more ceremony than battle. I have watched more preliminary hearings than I can even remember, a majority of them in front of Cagle. Never has there ever been a question whether a case of this magnitude would go to trial. It's just gotta be done.

The reality of this week's proceedings is that the public will get its first taste of Amanda Smith, defendant. We will also get a chance to hear the basic outline of Ariail's case.

I always loved prelims because they were usually short, but chocked full of information. I had been looking forward to this one for two months. Alas, this hearing is happening on a day I'm going to be on the road. I cannot cancel this trip and will have to rely on the good folks at Greenville Online to get my fix.

Ariail, to the best of my knowledge, has yet to announce whether he intends to seek the death penalty against Smith. I would still bet he does not, but Ariail has surprised me before. Regardless, the trial itself is probably still a good year away.

I remain disappointed I can't be in court on Wednesday. If any of you good e-mail buddies hear anything before I do, shoot me a note.

Previous Coverage:

Reading between the lines of Devon Epps' death
Devon Epps, Amanda Smith and the difficulties of reporting crime news
Devon Epps: Scene of the Crime?
Rapid Eye Reality coverage of Epps case makes it to print
Devon Epps: Waiting
Devon Epps: Pictures
The Missing Memorial Page
On Being Devon Epps' Mom
Amanda Smith arrested in death of son Devon Epps

Gary Michael Hilton and Jason Knapp

2008-01-17T09:57:00.000-05:00

The arrest of Gary Michael Hilton for the alleged murder of Georgia hiker Meredith Emerson should not have brought back any memories for me. However, now that investigators are connecting Hilton to the murder of North Carolina hiker Irene Bryant and the disappearance of her husband John, people are starting to use words "serial killer." The talk only gets more pointed when investigators continue to list Hilton as the primary suspect in the death of Cheryl Dunlap in Florida.

If you draw a line from northeast Georgia where Emerson died to Transylvania County, NC where the Irene Bryant died, you are going to cross a place called Table Rock in Pickens County, South Carolina. Though it's not yet being reported in the national press, investigators in Pickens County are doing preliminary work to see if Hilton might have had any role in the disappearance of Jason Knapp in 1998.

Knapp, at the time a student at Clemson University, was a model student and member of the Air Force ROTC. He disappeared in April 1998. Investigators found Knapp's car, a Chevy Beretta, at Table Rock State Park. Table Rock is a popular hiking and outdoor area in Upstate South Carolina. It has a number of interconnected trails, a couple of which reach to the top of Table Rock.

Despite massive search parties and an exhaustive investigation, no one ever found Knapp or his remains. Everyone has been left to assume he either fell off one of a bluff or, worse, ran into a drifter the likes of Gary Hilton. It's impossible to say. From the perspective of a clumsy writer who has hiked the Table Rock summit, it would be very easy to fall. If one were alone, there would be no calling for help, especially in 1998 when cell phones were a little less common.

Still, because of Knapp's disappearance and several unsolved murders and disappearances around the same time, investigators in Pickens and Oconee Counties (the two counties on either side of Clemson University) have never let go of the idea that Knapp might have been the victim of a killer. To wit:

In 1992, Norsaadah Husain was stabbed in a Cleamson-area laundry, kidnapped, killed, and later dumped in a forest within a half-hour's drive of Table Rock. No one ever found in the killer.

Brooke Holsonback was found murdered in Lake Hartwell near Clemson University in February 1997. Though the case has focused largely on two of her male schoolmates, the case remains unsolved.

Sheila Carver disappeared in June 1998 from the same area and was never found.

Add to that Knapp's disappearance in April 1998 and you have...what? Well, you have a bunch of cases in a two-county area that remain cold 10-15 years later. Because each of the cases is so dissimilar, investigators long ago gave up on the idea they are connected by anything other that geographic area. These same stories and memories pop up every time there is a high-profile case in the area, like when Tiffany Souers was murdered in her Clemson-area apartment in the summer of 2006.

This year will be the ten-year anniversary of Jason Knapp's disappearance and presumed death. I know this because I spent many a year thinking about the case and dealing with its primary investigators. What's more, I spent more than a little time with Knapp's mother, Deborah Boogher.

Deborah was a mother in much the same way I suspect mine would be if I fell off the face of the planet. Though she lived hundreds of miles away, Knapp's mother made regular trips to South Carolina to check in on the investigation and conduct a few of her own. One cold March morning, I joined her and a psychic on a trip to Table Rock State Park. My late partner and friend Chris, a photographer, and I spent the better part of a day on the trails around Table Rock. Never much of a supernatural guy myself, I had a hard time getting into the spirit of things. Still, I couldn't help but be touched by how desperate Deborah had become. She was willing to try anything if it meant finding her son.

At the time, I wrote:

Boogher stood in the middle of the parking lot waiting for the psychic to begin. "I know people think it is crazy but I've been to other psychics over the years," she explained, "They've all basically told me that Jason has died, but they've also told me they can't find him because they are not what they call an investigative psychic."

Cheri Mancuso, a short woman with a shock of dyed-red hair, bills herself as an investigative psychic. "We don't know what to call me. There aren't too many people that really do what I do," Mancuso said.

The psychic stood quietly for a moment, her eyes closed, hands wrapped around a picture of Jason Knapp. She explained that if she started to move, the group should follow. Mancuso explained that she had a vision about Knapp a full year before she met Boogher. She said she saw the letters J and A and prophesied that she would soon learn of a missing college student. She later interpreted the J and A to be the first two letters of Jason's name. Mancuso said she had more visions later. She said she saw Jason's car parked next to an old, red pickup truck. She said she saw two girls driving a convertible around in the Table Rock parking lot.

She said she believed someone was hunting Knapp and that Knapp was scared. "I saw him huffing and puffing and he was out of breath," she told the group. "I felt him just running and running and running and finally I just felt him collapse. Somewhere, Jason lies on a trail."

It was a desperate day that ended and resulted with no resolution. The Gary Hilton case will likely result in the same, because, if everyone is being honest with himself, the connection is tenuous at best. There exists an almost ten-year span between the recent deaths and Knapp's disappearance. All of Hilton's alleged victims or suspected victims have either been women or, in the case of John Bryant, in the company of a woman. Furthermore, the trails at Table Rock are rather self contained and not a vital part of a larger trail system.

Still, when hope and time are all investigators and a mother have, Hilton is the closest thing anyone has had to a suspect in years.

And it never hurts to look.

*Hilton photo courtesy CNN

Tom Cruise Scientology Indoctrination Video transcript

2008-01-15T20:47:00.000-05:00

The following is a transcript of the Tom Cruise Scientology Indoctrination Video that circulated on You Tube and various blogs this week. Reports say the Church of Scientology issued takedown orders to sites that chose to broadcast the video. For the sake of posterity (and as a cure for an hour of boredom), I threw on my Bose headphones and transcribed the video as seen HERE. While I have done my best to reproduce the video in its entirety, I'm sure I've missed a few "you know"s and, likely, some Scientology phrases I simply don't understand. The following is offered without bias or comment.

Here is a quick glossary to help you through the transcript:

KSW: Keeping Scientology Working

SP: Suppressive Person

Org: Presumbly synoymous with Sea Org, as described on the Scientology web site as "religious order for the Scientology religion and is composed of the most dedicated Scientologists in the world�individuals who have dedicated their lives to the service of their religion"

David Miscavige: Chairman of the Board of Religious Technology Center (RTC), a non-profit organization formed in 1982 to preserve, maintain and protect the Scientology religion. (From Scientology web site)

Out-Ethics: The opposite of Scientology's version of Ethics, the main tool used in practice of Scientology.

LRH: L. Ron Hubbard, Founder of Church of Scientology

Tech: A form of written instruction/courses provided to Scientology followers

IAS: International Association of Scientologists, the official membership organization of Scientology

---
(Music)

Announcer: Tom Cruise on Tom Cruise Scientologist

Cruise: I think it�s a privilege to call yourself a Scientologist and it is something that you have to earn, and�because a Scientologist does. He, or she has the ability to create new and better realities and improve conditions. Uh, being a Scientologist, you look at somebody and you know absolutely that you can help them. (cut)

So, for me, it really is KSW, and it�s just like, it�s something that, uh, I don�t mince words with that. You know, with anything (unintelligible), but that policy to me has really has gone , boy, there�s a time I went through and I said, �You know what�� When I read it, I just went (noise that sounds like poof), �This is it. That�s exactly it.� (cut)

Being a Scientologist, when you drive past an accident, it�s not like anyone else. As you drive past, you know you have to do something about it, because you know you�re the only one that can really help. (cut)

That�s�that�s what drives me, is that I know we have an opportunity, and uh, to really help for the first time effectively change people�s lives, and uh, I�m dedicated to that. I�m gonna, I�m absolutely, uncompromisingly dedicated to that. (cut)

Org are there to help, okay, but we as (unintelligible) the public, we have a responsibility. It�s not just the Orgs, it�s not just David Miscavige, you know, it�s not just me. It�s you, it�s everyone out there, kinds re-reading KSW and looking at what needs to be done and saying, �Okay! Am I going to do it or am I not going to do it?� Period. Am I going to look at that guy or am I too afraid because I have my own out-ethics, put in someone else�s ethics. That�s all it comes down to. (cut)

And I won�t hesitate to put ethics in someone else, because I put it ruthlessly in myself. And I think that I�uh�I respect that, you know, in others. And, you know, I�m there to help, and we�re here to help, and my opinion is is that, look, either you�re on board or you�re not on board. Okay, it�s just, if you�re on board, you�re on board just like the rest of us. Period. (cut)

We are the authorities in getting people off drugs. We are the authorities on the mind. We are the authorities on improving conditions. Criminals, we can rehabilitate criminals. Way to happiness, we can bring peace and unite cultures, uh, that once you know these tools and you know that they work, it�s not good enough that I�m just (doing okay?)

Traveling around the world and meeting the people that I�ve met. Talking with these leaders in various fields, they want help, and they are depending on people who know, and who can be effective and do it, and that�s us, that is our responsibility to do that. (cut)

It is the time now. Now is the time, okay? It is, being a Scientologist, people are turning to you, so you better know it. You better know it, and if you don�t, you know, go (sound deleted, appears to be �fucking�) learn it. (Laughs) You know? But don�t pretend you know it and, or whatever. It�s like, we�re here to help. (cut)

If you�re a Scientologist, you see life, you see things the way that they are. In all its glory, you know, all of its complexity. Uh, the more you know as a Scientologist, you don�t become overwhelmed by it. (cut)

(Laughs) And uh, they said, �So, have you been an SP� (big laugh) I looked at them and I thought, �What a beautiful thing,� because maybe one day it will be like that, you know? You know what I�m saying. Maybe one day it will be that �Wow, SP, they just read about those in the history books.� You know? (cut)

I just got through that tech, and it�s literally�it�s not how to run from an SP. It�s (acronym of some sort), how to shatter suppression, confront and shatter suppression. You apply it, and it�s like, boom. (cut)

Because, they don�t come up to be and do that. They don�t do it to me. Not to my face, or anywhere in my vicinity where they feel they can confronted, you know. They just don�t do it. (cut)

I wish the world was a different place. I�d like to go on vacation and go and romp and play and just do that. You know what I mean? I mean, that�s what I want it to be. That�s how, there�s times I want to do that but I can�t because I know. I know. So, you know I have to do something about it. It�s not, you know you can sit here wish it was different and then you look at it and you go �Okay, this is it.� You know, I have to do something, don�t I? I have to do it, because I can�t live with myself if I don�t. That really is it. (cut)

I don�t care if someone thinks it�s hard or easy. You�re either helping and contributing everything you can or you�re not, okay? Because I�m carrying my load, okay? And as much as I�m carrying, I still feel like I have to do more. Alright? There is still a thing of, let�s go. (cut)

You can just see the look in their eyes, you know the ones that are doing it and you know the spectators, the ones who are going, �Well, it�s easy for you� or �What am I doing� and it�s just, that thing is, I�ve canceled that in my area (laughs). It�s like, man, you�re either in or you�re out. That�s spectatorism, and it�s something that we have no time for right now. (cut)

So, it�s our responsibility to educate, create the new reality. We have that responsibility to say, �Hey, this is the way it should be done, because we do it this way and people are actually getting better.� (cut)

And let�s get it done. Let�s really get it done. Have enough love, compassion, and toughness that you�re going to do it and, uh, do it right. (cut)

And I have to tell you something. I really, it is, it�s rough and tumble. It�s wild and wooly. It�s a blast. It�s a blast. It really is fun, because damn it there is nothing better than going out there and fighting the fight and suddenly you see things are better. (cut)

I want to know that I�ve can everything I could everyday and I think about those people out there who depending on us. And I think about that. And it does make me feel like, (laughs) we�ve got more work. I need more help. Get those spectators�you�re in the playing field or out of the arena. (Laughs) You know, really, that�s how I feel about it. (cut)

I do what I can and I do it the way I do everything (laughs). There�s nothing part of the way for me (laughs).

Music: Mission Impossible

Announcer: A Scientologist can be defined by a single question: Would you want others to achieve the knowledge you now have. In answering that question, Tom Cruise has introduced LRH technology to over one billion people on earth, and that�s only the first wave he�s unleashed. Which is why the story of Tom Cruise Scientologist has only just begun.

Graphic: Tom Cruise, IAS, Freedom Medal of Valor, Winner

First Bar

2008-01-14T16:25:00.000-05:00

Pardon the moment of fiction...

Rocky�s ass hurt.

He realized this at irregular intervals between drinking beer in big gulps and chain smoking the cheap cigarettes he bought at the bodega on Second Street. It was his tailbone, he decided and attributed it to slipping on the kitchen floor a few months before. That�s what he got for hiring the Mick without any references. Boy sure could work the knives, though.

�Unoriginal sons of bitches.�

That was the old man behind the bar. He�d been serving Rocky beer for as long as either could remember. The wrinkles in Newt�s face had grown deep and in concert with his resentment for First Bar�s neighbors.

�Second Bar?� Newt asked himself. The bar rag in his hand was soaked in stale beer and ammonia. �Sons of bitches.�

Two months before, an enterprising young entrepreneur had happened on the idea that he could open a bar on the next block and piggyback on Newt�s history on First Street.

�In all fairness,� Rocky said, �it really hasn�t cost you much of your customer base.�

Newt�s lip curled up. �You know, Rock, it only takes you three beers to start sounding like a Jap again.�

Rocky shrugged. �No offense meant, I�m sure.�

�Fuck you, Rock.� Newt refilled Rocky�s beer and walked to the other end of the bar.

Rocky had worked long and hard to sound like an American ever since leaving the name Hiroaki at home. But Newt was right. After a few beers, Rocky started sounding like he did before he went Anglo. America did that to people, he decided. And, really, who was he to complain? America had been good to him so far.

Rocky turned his eyes away from First�s worn bar and down to the man at the end. He had long hair and a calm face. He drank a glass of red wine and kept quiet. In the face of Newt�s grumbling, quiet was usually better than the alternative. The man only barely turned his head when the bell over the door dinged.

The Russian wore a ragged white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans that hung too low over his boots. The barbed wire tattoo around his arm was as pronounced as always. When the Russian walked, it was as if he led with the tat. If Rocky hadn�t heard the story so many times, he would�ve had to count the ten barbs on the wire. Rocky had tried to seem impressed when the Russian�Yuri, if anyone cared�told him how he made the ink and cut himself with a sharpened spoon.

�Burned the sole of my boot,� the Russian had told him, �and mixed the ashes with my own piss. Stung like hell.�

The Russian took a seat next to Rocky and waited for Newt.

�Who�s the long hair?� Yuri said.

Rocky shrugged. �Newt�s allowed a new customer from time to time.�

�Probably not cutting his hair until Kennedy rises from the dead,� Yuri muttered. He said things like that. �Fucking hippies.�

Rocky did the math. �I think a couple of years is too long to be dead. Jack isn�t coming back.�

�You sound like a Jap tonight,� Yuri said before turning to Newt and ordering his drink.

Rocky let Yuri and Newt bitch at each other and allowed his thoughts wander with his eyes. The restaurants were doing well and he was still young. People still saw him as a Jap, though. No matter how successful he might become, nothing was going to change that. Supermodel for a daughter, CEO for a son, millions of bucks. No matter what happened, he would never really be Rocky. For now, his ass hurt and he wanted another beer.

�It�s a bastardization,� Newt said. �You know how long, I�ve been here? I opened this place with my dad. We were the first bar here. It was only a fucking coincidence we were on first street.�

�Happy coincidences,� Yuri muttered and fingered his tat.

�And now, this son of a bitch decides he�s going to open a place on Second and call it Second Bar. A bastardization.� Newt threw his rag at the mirror behind the bar. It left a long streak as it slid down behind the bottles of booze.

�You should have Yuri kill the guy,� Rocky said, then immediately regretted it. Despite his bigger-than-normal frame, beer still worked its way into his body too fast.

�I�m not adding any more to this,� the Russian said, thrusting his arm in Rocky�s face. �Why don�t you do it? We can put a little thorn on that red rose on your arm.�

Rocky wished he�d never compared ink with the Russian. �It�s not a rose. It�s a safflower.�

�Whatever,� the Russian said, and finished his drink in a gulp. �Benihana mother fucker.�

Newt retrieved his rag from the back wall and rinsed it off in the sink. �Should kill the son of a bitch. Really should. I mean, what�s next? Third Bar? Fiftieth Bar?�

Rocky pointed to his glass. �Nothing stays new forever.�

�Bastardization.�

Two drunk toughs stumbled out of the bathroom in a cloud of smoke and laughter. As they walked by the bar, one stopped. His voice was louder than anything else in the room, including Pat Boone singing �Ain�t That a Shame� on the jukebox.

�Hey, man! I�ve got one just like that!�

Before Rocky or Newt could stop him, the kid was pulling up his sleeve and showing Yuri a barbed wire tattoo. �Got it last week, man! How long have you had yours?�

Rocky stole a glance at Yuri and wondered how it would end. Yuri, however, didn�t move. He looked at his own face in the bar mirror and didn�t turn around. Newt managed to catch the kid�s eye and give him a look that said, �If you want to walk out of here, now would be the time.� The kid took the hint and moved.

The three men sat in silence for the next few minutes. Newt finally broke the spell by dropping a bottle of wine. As he crouched to pick up the glass, he muttered, �Second Bar. Jesus Christ.�

At the end of the bar, the long-hair smiled.

�Been there, man,� he said.

Despite it all...

2008-01-13T13:46:00.000-05:00

I'll admit, my first and final post from the Bahamas was a bit bleak. It was one of those times when I should've just hit delete and waited until I got home. However, I use this blog to help me remember the high and low points in my psyche, so it remained. Thanks to all the people who e-mailed pep talks.

Despite it all, though, there were more than a few interesting things that happened while I was gone. I don't even know if I feel like writing about them. Here are just a few highlights to help me remember that, if anything, this life introduces me to some very interesting and fun people.

***

The lounge is no more than a hotel bar during most weeks. This week, however, it is home to some of the most ridiculous gambling and drinking in the world. I made it my home away from home in the few hours I wasn't working. One night, I sat with my friend B.J. and several other friends. B.J. had been given an uninflated soccer ball and was trying to inflate it with his mouth. I offered him 10-1 on $50 that he couldn't blow it up enough to make it roll across the floor. He didn't take the bet...and then proceeded to blow up the ball with his mouth. In this case, I got lucky to not lose $500, while still seeing the feat performed. I'll just let you guess how he did it.

***

It was going on 2am and I was standing on a balcony overlooking a harbor full of yachts that cost more than my entire neighborhood. I was talking to two guys, neither of whom are American or live on the same continent. As you might guess, the subject of obscene wealth came up. We wondered aloud how we would handle ourselves if we had enough money to buy and maintain one of the yachts. One of the guys said that his aunt and uncle had become unexpectedly very wealthy and later wished they had not.

"If you don't mind me asking," I said, "how did they earn their money?"

"They invented Trivial Pursuit."

***

For the first time in seven days, I was sitting down for a real meal. My wife and I had been invited by a friend and his girlfriend. They were a good couple. I'd known the guy for a long time, but was just getting a chance to chat up the lady. As the conversation wound through every topic you might imagine, the subject of musical festivals and hippies came up. The girl revealed that she had spent the first five years of her life on The Farm, the nation's longest-running hippie commune. I couldn't help but be a little surprised. I might have even been an little incredulous. By the end of the night, however, I was not. By the time the wife and I were wiping the sand off our feet and changing clothes for the night, I felt better about the entire week.

Despite it all--the long hours, thankless work, and obscene disregard for money--I get to meet and hang out with some really interesting people.

And sometimes I think it's all worth it.

Death of the Arcade

2008-01-12T13:51:00.000-05:00

My buddy T is one hell of a photographer. I think I've said that before.

A few weeks ago, T invited me to join him at a video game auction a couple of minutes from my house. I didn't make it, but he did. That's the thing about T. When he wants to do something, no late night or general malaise will keep him from going.

If you ever wonder what happens to the Ms. Pac-Man games and KISS pinball machines when they leave your local pizza parlor or arcade, this might be somewhat enlightening. Regardless, it's fun.

Visit T's slideshow at Death of the Arcade.

Bahamian nightdream

2008-01-10T01:42:00.000-05:00

It's nearly 2am in Nassau. I'm sitting in a room full of poker players. Fifty yards away, poker's version of soccer hooligans are chanting. They're fueled by a multi-rum drink and the local beer, Kalik. Unmentionable amounts of money are sliding back and forth across green-felted tables. For the week, I have a Bahamian work permit. It prohibits me from doing anything stupid or enjoyable. So, I sit and stare.

I realized today that I have spent a grand total of ten minutes outside in the last six days. Every one of those minutes was spent under the moon. There is no day and there is no night. It's all inside. Most people think freedom turns people wild. Not so. Structure turns me into an animal.

I'm an animal right now.

The worst part is, I'm an animal that can't write. Whatever visceral experiences I'm enduring right now are either so raw or so boring that they don't fit into words. It's such an odd fucking world. The only thing that's made sense in the past six days is when my phone rang late last night. The voice on the other end said, "Blue Horseshoe Loves Anacot Steel."

It was my buddy Pauly calling. I was in the Bahamas, he was in Australia. I hadn't talked to him in a month. We spoke for 25 seconds. It made me feel better for a few minutes. Today, as I thought about it, it reminded me of another quote from the same movie.

"The main thing about money, Bud, is that it makes you do things you don't want to do."

I am in awe of the people who love me. There are more than I can count, and I struggle to understand why. There are many people who tell me to stop thinking so much about the why and spend more time just loving people back. Those people are right, but it's harder than it should be. And I don't know why.

It occurs to me that I am probably on the edge of falling apart. I keep listening to the same song over and over.

"Sunday, Sunday lying in the grass, laying on my back and thinking about the past, Nothing to but sit around all day, getting used to this, it's gonna be that way for a long time."

A couple of nights ago, somebody I know here got drunk and kept repeating something over and over again. "I am worth something. I want to go home."

That's all we want, right?

We want to be worth something and we want to go home.

Best of Rapid Eye Reality 2007

2007-12-29T21:13:00.000-05:00

I struggled with whether to do a retrospective, a best-of, or a "State of the Otis" post to end the year. Because I've already written a 2500-word retrospective for another site and I'm feeling lazy, I won't be doing that here. Because I rarely have any idea of my current state (least of all now). That left me with a best-of. It sounded exceptionally cocky to me, until I realize that there is always a best-of something, even if it's the best kid in a classroom full of morons or the best prisoner in a pen full of murderers. So, here's the best post and best picture from each of this year's 12 months.

January

Otis and the Magic Door..."when a large, dark, Bahamian man confronts you when you're alone, the first thing you do is swallow your balls out of your throat and remember you're actually in what at least reports itself as a five-star resort. Chances are you're not about to get rolled."

The wife and I on New Year's Eve and getting ready to tackle 2007 -- taken by my friend, T

February

Lapsed--"Scissor-cut the sides and back pretty short, the top not as short, but still short, take most of the bangs off, bring the sideburns most of the way up," I said. With Michael just a few feet away, it was like directing a stripper--or worse, a prostitute--while my wife was watching.

This picture was actually taken in 2006 by my friend Pauly, but it got posted this year as a look back at the past few years of my professional career. This picture captured my professional life since 2005 better than any other

March

Timeless--"My wife and I have occasional discussions about how we're becoming more summer than spring chickens. Ten years ago, we had our lives ahead of us and could afford to be bohemian and lazy. Now, it feels like each month slips away a little bit faster. We've managed to succeed on a lot of fronts. We're financially comfortable. We have a beautiful son, a home, a dog, two cars, and very little debt. It is the American Dream...which we managed to accomplish in spite of ourselves."

I took this photo a few days before I left for an international work trip. It till reminds me how sweet and perfect my family can be

April

Jungle--"we recognize that we're in the jungle and it appears to be the only jungle we have. And that's what makes our eyes sad. When people look at us and say, "Dance, monkey," we can choose not to. However, that doesn't change the fact we're pretty much trapped."

My dad and my kid, taken at the zoo.

May

No post this month. Even in a best-of, some months are going to be stinkers. So, two pictures instead.

My friend asked me to take some pictures of his kid playing ball. This was my favorite

Dinner in the Dark...I was in Missouri visiting my family. Twenty minutes before we sat down to eat, a typical Missouri storm blew through and knocked out the power. We ate by the remaining sunlight and flickering candles.

June

Sick Boy--"(Las Vegas, NV) She's an Asian woman who doesn't speak a ton of English, but I imagine her conversation in the housekeeping room of my floor goes like this.

Housekeeper #1: The boy in 012, he sick boy. He have problem.
Housekeeper #2: It's Vegas, everybody has problems.
Housekeeper #1: No, he sick boy! He masturbates! He cokehead! All day long!"

I took this picture in June, but it didn't appear on this blog. I've taken a lot of pictures of Isabelle Mercier in the past few years. This is one of my favorites from 2007.

July

The Devil and Mr. Otis--"I remember the slightest of chills. The guy was probably in his mid-20s, but his eyes said he was a thousand years old. When we got on the elevator together, he stole a brief glance at my Nikon.

'You getting some good pictures?' he asked.

Those were the first words the Devil ever said to me."

No picture this month.

August

No key to the gnocchi--"...There's nothing I can't do with a potato..."

A photo I took in 1997 of my buddies in Scotland...posted this month to mark the end of one of their bachelor lives

September

Suburban Landscapes--"Corner Bastard lives up the street and around the corner of my little cookie cutter neighborhood. He drives perfect little cars, has perfect little bushes, and has a lawn of green fescue that not only is the pride of the neighborhood, but has managed to emasculate me in such a way that I can barely drive by without reminding my wife that I was "man enough to give her a baby, so stop looking at the damned grass like you want to have sex on it.""

No photo.

October

Lifespan--"Ray wore sunglasses, a work hat, and a stained shirt. His hands bore all the signs of a career in manual labor. He worked with a silent deliberation. I stood on the sidewalk and wished I'd worn something different. I was in a pair of jeans--a little too tight--a graphic tee and a pair of Ecco shoes. To anyone driving by, I was that guy from the nearby suburban neighborhood where men don't change their own car batteries. I was about to stick my head under the hood, too, just to keep up appearances, when Ray emerged."

Kid Hero--My boy on Halloween

November

Amanda Smith arrested in death of son, Devon Epps--"It has been determined that Devon Epps death did not occur in the manner in which it was reported by his mother," Loftis said. "Amanda Smith is responsible for the death of her son."

I sent one of my guitars to a buddy in Iraq.

December

Afflicted--"Daddy, I am making the perfect drum," he said, as if it were the most natural goal in the world.

"Who told you to make the perfect drum?" I said, making sure the roux wasn't sticking to the pan.

"God."

My son, just a week ago

Sleigh bells ring...

2007-12-25T14:22:00.000-05:00

I was a good daddy. I only drank three beers while assembling the Thomas the Tank Engine Trundle Table. I was in bed by 11:30 and asleep by 12:30. Still, the boy's early rising meant I was a stumbly mess come Santa time.

Before we let the kid out of his room, I staggered downstairs, grabbed a Diet Coke, and found the video camera. As an afterthought, I decided to turn on the Christmas tree lights. We got a bigger tree than usual this year and getting behind it to plug in the lights is a challenge. What's more, we have child-proof (and sometimes adult-proof) electrical outlets in the house. Without impediment, the process of inserting plug is rather simple. When a giant evergreen is poking me in the belly and jingle-jangling with all its holiday might, the process is decidedly more difficult. When I'm barely awake and trying to hurry, there is bound to be more than a couple four-letter words. When an ornament fell off and hit me in the head, I uttered a couple of words that, if had Santa heard, would've landed me on the naughty list for the next couple of years.

Finally, though, the tree was alight and I was on my way back upstairs to retrieve the boy and his mom. Once there, we spent a few minutes looking at the note Santa had left for the boy on a magnadoodle and looking at the mostly empty plate of cookies. Just as we were getting ready to go downstairs, it happened. My fat body ramming into the tree had loosened the hold of a ball-shaped bell. Further, this ball-bell had decided this was the very moment to fall and make noise all the way to the floor.

After several weeks of preparing for the perfect day, my fatigued mind saw this as the first sign we were headed on the road to disaster. This feeling lasted for all of one second. Then, the boy's eyes lit up and he exclaimed, "Santa!"

My loving wife looked at me as if it to say, "How did you do that?"

I shrugged and gave her a look back that said, "That's just how Santa rolls."

By the time we made it downstairs, Santa had made it outside. We just missed him.

Despite all my cussing, beer-drinking, and tree-abuse, I guess I never made it to the naughty list this year. I got the best gift of all.

I got to see my kid's eyes light up on Christmas morning.