Aside from Frank Rich, Sundays just seem to be missing that certain something lately

I know what it is. Yeah. Sundays around here just haven't been the same since before the election, when my man would wake up at 7:30 to catch the Sunday morning news shows with George Stephanopoulos, Tim Russert, Bob Schieffer, et al. Joe has this uncanny ability to flip around to the different shows, listen to all the important interviews and sum up everything rather nicely in just a matter of moments. He came of age politically the day Kennedy was shot, survived Nixon, was repelled by Reagan, and is still angry with Clinton for throwing it all away over a simple blow-job. Spiritually, we're both rattled by this Bush win, but Joe has this Cassandra thing going so it's even more dire-sounding when he shakes his head and says, "Get ready for America as we know it to unravel before our very eyes, Baby." His predictions, like everyone else's, are hit-and-miss, but when it comes to gazing into the political future, my man's forecasts are often and frighteningly spot-on.

Because of this, when I'm not busy mulling investments in gold or euros or who Joe should be talking to about getting a unit production manager gig in Vancouver, I tend to disappear into my cocoon of nostalgia, thinking back fondly to when Bill Clinton and his people ruled the country with the common good in mind, and could still admit to being human and making mistakes. Thinking that yeah, if Bill Clinton were to grope me, I'd probably giggle like a schoolgirl and go on to treasure the memory forever. And I wouldn't share it with many people, either, only a couple of like-minded friends who'd high-five me and buy a round of celebratory drinks.

Jesus. Me and my dirty old men...

Anyway, back to Clinton, I do hope he's in good health. He seems to have lost a lot of weight, from the pictures I saw of him at the opening of his library in Little Rock. I suppose he's still recovering from that heart operation. Bless him. God, I sure miss his being in the White House. I'm sure he doesn't, though. Especially now, with all that his successor has brought on, and told everyone else to, come to think of it.

Bring it on.

Anyway, here's my favorite king of bringin' it on, Frank Rich, from today's column, Bono's New Casualty: 'Private Ryan':

"What makes the 'Ryan' case both chilling and a harbinger of what's to come is that it isn't about Janet Jackson and sex but about the presentation of war at a time when we are fighting one. That some of the companies whose stations refused to broadcast 'Saving Private Ryan' also own major American newspapers in cities as various as Providence and Atlanta leaves you wondering what other kind of self-censorship will be practiced next. If these media outlets are afraid to show a graphic Hollywood treatment of a 60-year-old war starring the beloved Tom Hanks because the feds might fine them, toy with their licenses or deny them permission to expand their empires, might they defensively soften their news divisions' efforts to present the graphic truth of an ongoing war?"

http://www.nytimes.com/2004/11/21/arts/21rich.html?pagewanted=1&oref=login


And Cindy Adams' notable bon mot from today’s New York Post:

"To be thankful for this Thanksgiving: the Catholic Church, for bringing new meaning to the proverb, 'Abstinence makes the heart grow fondlers.'"

http://www.nypost.com/gossip/cindy.htm