From the Strib:

Club-hopping guys greasing up with Preparation H

No, it’s not what you think.

Well, not quite:

ABC News is reporting that New York bouncer, blogger and author Rob Fitzgerald has noticed that young men waiting outside his clubs are greasing up with the hemorrhoid cream to make themselves look “ripped” for the ladies.

Fitzgerald says bodybuilders and posers use it, and now the tactic is making the rounds on the Internet, ABC reports. And women have been known to use it to combat facial wrinkles

I thought about calling the post “smear tactics”, but thought better of it.

Doug Hester is all over Ramsey County Sheriff Bob Fletcher’s dubious record at issuing/renewing legal concealed carry permits, in part three of a series (parts 1 and 2 here):

As one can see by examining the tables, Ramsey County has consistently denied more than 11 percent of the handgun carry applications it has received, more than four times the rate denied by Hennepin County, which has the largest population in the state, and more than 11 times the rate of St. Louis County, which generally has a comparable number of applications. The question that immediately comes to mind is: Why is Ramsey County’s handgun permit application denial rate so much higher than comparable counties, or even counties with a higher population and presumably a much higher crime rate?

Read the whole thing.

I’ve been blogging for about six and a third years, now. In the world of blogs, I’m not Methuselah, but I was a few classes behind him in high school.

This blog has “succeeded” far beyond my wildest dreams; I’m around 2,000 unique visits a day (according to my server logs – which is down from the 3,000 I got a few years ago, but a fair chunk of that was hits on spam comments, which are largely gone now), with big surges on occasion. And as I’ve said for years, the rewards are even greater than the traffic; I’d still do the blog if I still had the 10-20 daily readers I had in the summer of 2002.

I’ve gotten a lot of great reactions, of course; recognition, fans of all kinds, and that feeling of satisfaction you get from doing something you enjoy, well enough to put your name on it with at least some pride. And of course, the blog has opened up things in my life that had been closed for a long, long time – since Twenty Years Ago Today, in fact; my “radio career”, a place in politics that I kind of enjoy – you know. The usual.

Of course, not everyone’s a fan. I have my critics; when they make a good point – and they frequently do, because let’s face it, I’m no Rhodes scholar – I appreciate it and learn from it (or try to). I have my detractors – a few people out there who just plain don’t like me or my blog. They don’t bother me especially; if I want their opinion, I’ll grant them the right to have one [*].

In fact, in six years and change of doing this blog, there’s really only one criticism that’s ever really rankled me; “Your blog used to be good, but it’s not what it used to be”.

Now, it doesn’t rankle me because of the implied criticism of the blog; the point pretty much invariably accompanies some sort of political screed. That’s fine.

On the other hand – no! The blog is not what it used to be! I’m not who I used to be! The only blogs that never, ever change are the ones that either publish five posts and go silent, the ones on some subject that never changes, or the ones written by groups so big that changes are swallowed up in the law of averages.

The last six years of my life have been a trip; rewarding, gruelling, joyful, excruciating, happy, depressed, fun and a freaking deathmarch – sometimes simultaneously. When I started the blog, my kids were nine and ten years old; today they’re 15 and 16. Since 2002, I’ve been a contractor at six companies, and am finally an employee at a place I think I like an awful lot. I’ve had dozens of first dates (and not a few second third and twentieth ones), a few breakups that were worthy of country-western songs (and one that was probably more speed-metal)…

…and there’s just no way on earth that anyone can do all that and not have something change. Usually for the better, sometimes not, but always just a tad different.

My politics are mostly the same; I’m a conservative. Some things have morphed; I’m less accepting of gay marriage than I was, but a stronger supporter of civil unions (and getting government the hell out of the marriage business). I still oppose capital punishment, but I’ve morphed from supporting concealed carry and the right to self defense to supporting mandatory gun ownership for the law-abiding and “make my day” laws. (I’m being tongue in cheek. Mostly).

So here’s a word for the wise; if you want to take a ding at me, I’m happy and not a little proud to tell ya “you’ve changed” really isn’t what you’re looking for.

(more…)

Via Gary Miller, Matt “No Relation To Gary” Miller notes that Hillary Clinton provided this nation a great service – way above and beyond the whole “soaking up Tic resources for a few months” bit – in the race.

There was the conventional stuff…

But, there’s something about what she’s done for politics in America over the last 2 years that deserves respect. She’s fought. She’s struggled. And at times, she’s pushed back against the hijacking of the Democratic Party, which has been, for all it’s flaws, a party of great and patriotic men and women; a party which has, until now, only once succumbed to out and out radicalism in the last 60 years of nominations. She’s tried to speak to hardworking Americans, not about them. She’s tried to communicate a responsible foreign policy, not historically laughable pie-in-the-sky utopianism. She’s tried to recall a party she loves from the abyss. She’s tried. And she’s failed. Not everyone can be avatars of hope and light.

Indeed, there can only be One.  But I digress.

There is  a lesson there for the GOP – especially in Minnesota, where the party had a hard-fought battle with its own utopian fringe.  Hopefully the good guys can find a better way to help channel all that utopian energy than the tic are managing so far.

And here’s the real salient point; the point that conservatives, and moderates, and patriotic Americans of all regions and all religions ought to be thanking her for; Hillary Clinton has revealed Barack Obama. Four months ago, Barack Obama was an insurpassable public figure. He was The One We’ve Been Waiting For. An agent of hope and change poised to bridge all gaps, overturn all conventions, and melt all hearts. He was the great redeemer, surpassing that other great redeemer, and we were his subjects, waiting in humble supplication for the touch of his gentle hand. Now he’s tarred with Wright. And Ayers. And Pfleger. And he’s schemed, and calculated, and given ludicrous explanations, and played old politics with the best of them. His halo has descended before our very eyes. Make no mistake about it, no inducement on earth could have brought the press to question Barack Obama in a general election campaign in 2008. And no amount of evidence could have made the public care. Not even in a campaign against John McCain, the media’s favorite Republican. Even as a Democrat who ostensibly shares many of their goals, Hillary has had little success in shaping the media’s narrative. But, she has shaped the public’s.

The whole thing’s worth a read. 

And I join with Gary; Thanks, Hills!  See you in ’12!  And ’16!  And ’20!  And ’24…

Bo Diddley is dead of apparent complications from a stroke:

Bo Diddley, a founding father of rock ‘n’ roll whose distinctive “shave and a haircut, two bits” rhythm and innovative guitar effects inspired legions of other musicians, died Monday after months of ill health. He was 79.

Diddley died of heart failure at his home in Archer, Fla., spokeswoman Susan Clary said. He had suffered a heart attack in August, three months after suffering a stroke while touring in Iowa. Doctors said the stroke affected his ability to speak, and he had returned to Florida to continue rehabilitation.

The legendary singer and performer, known for his homemade square guitar, dark glasses and black hat, was an inductee into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, had a star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame, and received a lifetime achievement award in 1999 at the Grammy Awards. In recent years he also played for the elder President Bush and President Clinton.

The 1988 inauguration, indeed, featured the memorable lineup of Diddley, Sam and Dave, and Lee Atwater.

Diddley appreciated the honors he received, “but it didn’t put no figures in my checkbook.”

“If you ain’t got no money, ain’t nobody calls you honey,” he quipped.

Working in radio as a kid, I was aware of Diddley bright and early – but I didn’t really know Diddley until he toured with The Clash, around 1979-80.

His first single, “Bo Diddley,” introduced record buyers in 1955 to his signature rhythm: bomp ba-bomp bomp, bomp bomp, often summarized as “shave and a haircut, two bits.” The B side, “I’m a Man,” with its slightly humorous take on macho pride, also became a rock standard…Diddley’s influence was felt on both sides of the Atlantic. Buddy Holly borrowed the bomp ba-bomp bomp, bomp bomp rhythm for his song “Not Fade Away.”

The Rolling Stones‘ bluesy remake of that Holly song gave them their first chart single in the United States, in 1964. The following year, another British band, the Yardbirds, had a Top 20 hit in the U.S. with their version of “I’m a Man.”

Let’s not forget Warren Zevon’s “Bo Diddley’s a Gunslinger” and, best of all, Springsteen’s “She’s The One”.  The NYTimes has a list of songs that reference the signature beat.

Diddley was also one of the pioneers of the electric guitar, adding reverb and tremelo effects. He even rigged some of his guitars himself.

“He treats it like it was a drum, very rhythmic,” E. Michael Harrington, professor of music theory and composition at Belmont University in Nashville, Tenn., said in 2006.

Diddley’s influence was always very underrated.

Ramsey County (which includes Saint Paul) sheriff Bob Fletcher is nothing if not a controversial figure in the metro and throughout Minnesota.

He’s been assailed by his deputies (for his alleged human resources practices), his political foes, his county’s Charter Commission (which came a cat’s whisker away from recommending his position be made appointed – the only one in Minnesota). 

And now, according to Doug Hester at Northern Muckraker, it’d seem his department is interfering with the issuance and renewal of carry permits.

Even though the 2003-2005 changes in Minnesota’s law instituted a “shall issue” process for issuing permits, the county sheriff still exercises much power over those who wish to apply for or renew carry permits.  Hester notes:

Nowhere do the issues of Fletcher’s spending habits and his reputation for doing things his own way come together more neatly than on his seemingly maverick policy of issuing handgun carry permits. There have been rumors for years that the Ramsey County Sheriff’s Office has improperly spent thousands of dollars on over budgeted resources for the department responsible for issuing permits, has wasted even more taxpayer money by having to pay attorney fees for a significant number of permit applicants who successfully appeal their denial to a judge, and, most disturbingly, the Sheriff’s Office has been widely suspected of systematically denying handgun carry permits to a much larger percentage of applicants than the other counties in Minnesota, for no reasonable explanation.

It’s a multipart series, with much supporting data; it’s a non-trivial read.  I’ll be following up later this week.

UPDATE:  Welcome Politics In Minnesota readers.  PIM was nice enough to link to me – it’s always a day brightener! – but I direct you to Doug Hester’s Northern Muckracker, who is actually working the story – and has a new installment out today!

Today is the thirtieth anniversary of the release of my favorite album of the rock and roll era, Darkness On The Edge Of Town.

Thirty years? Ooof.

Here’s what I wrote two years ago – a piece I’m still kinda proud of:

———-

Tonight My Baby And Me Are Gonna Ride To The Sea

It was 28 years ago today that Darkness on the Edge of Town came out.

For the past 25 or so years, it’s been my favorite album of all time.

Everyone remembers Born to Run, a timeless procession of suicide machines and old girlfriends and happy-go-lucky petty thugs and dresses flying in the wind and visionaries in parking lots dancing to late-night radio to the light of nearby billboards.

Darkness is the album for when the cruising’s over, and you have to grow up and live your life for real.

There’s a reason the album has stuck with me for almost thirty years – and why so many Bruce fans say that it, rather than Born to Run or The River or Nebraska, is their favorite Springsteen record.

There has never been a better record written about isolation – personal, geographical, cultural, and emotional – ever. Which may be why it resonated so much for a kid for North Dakota who desperately wanted to be elsewhere. In fact, “the Promised Land” is about exactly that:

On a rattlesnake speedway in the Utah desert
I pick up my money and head back into town
Driving cross the Waynesboro county line
I got the radio on and I’m just killing time
Working all day in my daddy’s garage
Driving all night chasing some mirage
Pretty soon little girl I’m gonna take charge

CHORUS
The dogs on Main Street howl
’cause they understand
If I could take one moment into my hands
Mister I ain’t a boy, no I’m a man
And I believe in a promised land

Foreigner and Black Sabbath never wrote about being stuck in a small town, bored out of your skull. I was sold.

The first cut, “Badlands”, is a decoy; it’s almost “Born to Run”-ish, with its gleefully-sloppy guitar/sax interplay, big beat (almost danceable, by Springsteen standards) and exhortation that “it ain’t no sin to be glad you’re alive”. But after “Badlands” it’s clear – being glad you’re alive is no sin, but it’s something you gotta work for. “Adam Raised a Cain”, a brutal, plodding dirge, raises the ante; you can be glad you’re alive, but your past wants its due:

“Daddy worked his whole life for nothing but the pain
Now he walks these empty rooms looking for something to blame
You inherit the sins, you inherit the flames
Adam raised a Cain…

“Something in the Night” reads like an obituary to the teenage dream; like an almost-thirty-year-old is driving down the same route he covered ten years earlier – maybe the route “through the mansions of glory”, for all we know.

But he’s alone, this time:

I’m riding down Kingsley,
figuring I’ll get a drink
Turn the radio up loud,
so I don’t have to think,
I take her to the floor,
looking for a moment when the world
seems right,
And I tear into the guts,
of something in the night.

…

Well nothing is forgotten or forgiven,
when it’s your last time around,
and I’ve got stuff running ’round my head,
that I can’t live down…

So it’s been 28 years since I first heard the record, and about a quarter century since it’s been among my 2-3 favorite records ever. For me, it’s been a long stretch; a couple of careers, two and a half kids, a marriage that splintered like a Wal-mart dining room set, and a few dreams along the way that had to get wrapped up and put away for later, whenever “Later” is.

And at the end of it all – on the title and final cut on the album, the slow, mournful “Darkness on the Edge of Town” – a late-night tale by a guy who staked a big chunk of his life on a losing bet, a song that sounds like 4AM after a long bender, about the time when resignation gells into resolve:

Well, they’re still racing out at The Trestles
but that blood never burned in her veins.
I hear she’s got a house out on Fairview, now,
and a style she’s trying to maintain…

He’s been there. He’s thought about it.

He’s done:

Well, some folks are born into a good life,
and other folks get it anyway, anyhow.
And I lost my money and I lost my wife,
Them things don’t seem to matter much to me now.
Tonight I’ll be on that hill ’cause I can’t stop
I’ll be on that hill with everything I got
Where the lives are on the line, where dreams are found and lost,
I’ll be there on time and I’ll pay the cost
For wanting things that can only be found
in the darkness on the edge of town…

The album has stayed with me like none of Springsteen’s other records – partly because I associate it so closely with that part of my adolescence when I was just starting to figure out who I was and where I belonged, but mostly because it’s about things that are pretty timeless.

It aint’ no sin to be glad you’re alive. It’s also something you have to earn:

Well everybody’s got a hunger,
a hunger they can’t resist.
There’s so much that you want,
you deserve much more than this.
Well, if dreams came true, aw, wouldn’t that be nice?
But this aint’ no dream, we’re living all through the night.
You want it? You take it, you pay the price…

So earn it.

———-

The other day, area blogger and fellow Bruuuuce fan Nightwriter left this comment:

I remember a friend of mine and I staying up til midnight at the end of term in ‘78 to hear the college radio station play the long-awaited new album on its release day. After all the anticipation I found it rather anti-climatic. I didn’t really like the album the first time through; there didn’t seem to be the “BTR” or “Rosalita” type anthem or a real party song. After the last cut finished my buddy asked me what I thought. I said it sounded as if Bruce had traded the city streets for the highways. I mean, how did he get from “E Street” to “a rattlesnake speedway in the Utah desert”? Didn’t stop me from buying it, of course, and it did grow on me.

I’ve found that to be true with a lot of music; a lot of my favorite albums ever – London Calling, Empty Glass, Tunnel of Love, Exile on Main Street, Pleased To Meet Me, Poor Man’s Son and probably quite a few others – didn’t totally grab me right out of the gate. Oh, there were songs I liked on each right out of the sleeve – but it took a while for things to really insinuate themselves into my brain, and deeper.

And while it’s been a long, long time since I first heard it, some of my favorites on Darkness today are the ones I skipped past when I was in high school. Oh, things like “Badlands”, “The Promised Land” and “Prove It All Night” grabbed me in my adolescent gut, but I remember thinking “Racing In The Street” was a lab project to cram in as many traditional “Springsteen” cliches – cars, girls, driving, the shore – into one song as possible. My friend Rich actually broke out laughing when he first heard the song’s opening verse…:

I got a ’69 Chevy with a 396, fuelie heads and a Hurst on the floor.
She’s waiting tonight down in the parking lot behind the 7/11 store.

…and, truth be told, I couldn’t really object. Not then, anyway. It took me years, and a lot of life, to really figure that one out.

Which may be why I love this album so much, more even than any other Springsteen album (and I love so much of that to begin with); there’s just as much there for me now as there was when I was 17.

Regular commenter “Peevish” has apparently finally taken several years of his fellow commenters’ advice, and started his own blog.

All the best, Peev! 

Conservative pundit Sean Hannity – long known for his reflexive support of the Administration and its policies – writes an op-ed criticizing the media for ignoring some extraordinary news from Iraq:

THERE’S BEEN a relative lull in news coverage and debate about Iraq in recent weeks — which is odd, because May could turn out to have been one of the most important months of the war. While Washington’s attention has been fixed elsewhere, military analysts have watched with astonishment as the Iraqi government and army have gained control for the first time of the port city of Basra and the sprawling Baghdad neighborhood of Sadr City, routing the Shiite militias that have ruled them for years and sending key militants scurrying to Iran. At the same time, Iraqi and U.S. forces have pushed forward with a long-promised offensive in Mosul, the last urban refuge of al-Qaeda. So many of its leaders have now been captured or killed that U.S. Ambassador Ryan C. Crocker, renowned for his cautious assessments, said that the terrorists have “never been closer to defeat than they are now.”

Hannity’s right.  The story of the surge – like any successful counterinsurgency – is that slow, patient activity that focuses as much on tribal diplomacy and building up the locals’ confidence and proficiency has created immense gains, and led to the current 86 percent drop in US casualties in the past year (allowing that they will likely rise again, especially before the US elections this fall, as Al Quaeda does its best to further influence US politics)

It is — of course — too early to celebrate; though now in disarray, the Mahdi Army of Moqtada al-Sadr could still regroup, and Iran will almost certainly seek to stir up new violence before the U.S. and Iraqi elections this fall. Still, the rapidly improving conditions should allow U.S. commanders to make some welcome adjustments — and it ought to mandate an already-overdue rethinking by the “this-war-is-lost” caucus in Washington, including Sen. Barack Obama (D-Ill.)…When Mr. Obama floated his strategy for Iraq last year, the United States appeared doomed to defeat. Now he needs a plan for success.

(Boy, does he ever – and he must recognize it, since his staff is already trying to reconstruct history) 

Hannity also notes that the current success means that Gen. Petraeus is talking seriously about accelerating the disengagement of US regular forces. 

Read the whole thing.  While Hannity perhaps surprises nobody with the conclusions, the primary message – that the media is continuing its pattern of ignoring the growing chorus of good news from Iraq – is very important.

CORRECTION:  I can’t believe I bobbled this.  Sean Hannity didn’t write this piece; it was the left-leaning Washington Post editorial board.

If even they get it, do you suppose Nancy Pelosi might?

I read this bit here in yesterday’s Strib, about a mother’s reaction to racist grafitti in a north suburban high school:

St. Francis High School students reportedly discovered a racial slur scrawled on the wall of a bathroom stall more than a week ago, but many parents didn’t hear about it until Friday.

The message included the slur and incited students to hang three specific male students before the school year ends on Wednesday.

“It said they’re going to kill all of the N-words at the school and listed me and two of my friends,” said 17-year-old Anthony Stringer.

Stringer’s mother responded:

“What I really want out of this is for people to realize there are racial issues at the school. You don’t expect it to happen in 2008, but if it does happen, you expect the school to address it properly.”

And I started thinking:  do we?

No, it’s not a slap at schools; indeed, they’re in an almost impossible position.

Bear with me for a moment.

When I was a kid in elementary and high schools, in the seventies, in the immediate aftermath of the civil rights movement, I remember everyone – schools, parents, the  media, everyone – working overtime to beat into our heads that racism was a Bad Thing.  The n-word was bad; skin color is not a person’s measure; don’t discriminate.

And although I grew up in one of the whitest places in the country (or at least one of the least Afro-American; while I grew up around a few Native Americans, Asians and Latinos, I didn’t actually meet an Afro-American person face-to-face until I was 16, and didn’t actually engage in a conversation with an black guy until I went to college), I think it largely worked; while I remember the odd racist joke when I was a kid, I think most people of my generation got conditioned to be very uncomfortable around the whole thing. 

So I remember how uncomfortable it made me when I was working as a nightclub DJ, hearing the “N” word popping up in music.

And then as a pervasive element in urban pop culture – first in bits and pieces (the rap group “NWA” had to put the “N” word in code, abreviating it in their name, naming an album “Efil4zaggin”) and then more and more, bit by bit, until it rates just the most cursory “bleep” on MTV.  If that.

And then as a part of fairly normal conversation in urban culture – in the store, on the bus, wherever.

And then to become an element of conversation – albeit carefully coded – in “polite” conversation; “the N Word” is virtually a word in its own right; white kids who try to act like gangsters are routinely (derisively?) called “W**gers”; some black people (including a caller to an internet talk show on which I’m an occasional guest) refer to Condi Rice or Colin Powell or other blacks who work within the conventional system as “HNs” in polite company, “House N****rs” elsewhere.

And then as an element of satire in a classic South Park episode.

Which leads us back to the Strib article. 

Here’s the paradox:  I’ve noticed that teenagers today are much more comfortable around racial diversity than when I was a kid (or so I presume).  They’re also more aware of the effects of identity politics (consciously or not).  And they’re also more comfortable with using the sort of language that makes a lot of people of my generation (of all races) blanche with discomfort, for the pure teenagery joy of…well, making people of their parents’ generation blanche with discomfort.   

I see and hear teenagers of all races, in racially mixed company, blurting out “N***a” – just like DMX does on his records – for pure “comic” effect.  It is brash, garish, naughty, makes people uncomfortable – everything a teenager could want in a word. Probably not much different than me singing “Anarchy in the UK” was for me in high school – “I am an antichrist, I am an anarchist, I know what I want and I know how to get it, I wanna destroy, multiply…” – a perfectly fine way to show the adults how much I wasn’t like them.

With teenagers – so many of whom are focused on getting attention, good or bad – it’s hard to tell what exactly is the right approach to take.  Do you raise a huge stink and make your displeasure known – and, inevitably, give the act the attention that was the motivation for it in the first place?  Or do you downplay its importance (and quietly and subtly punish it) to refuse to dignify it with the attention that the perps want so badly in the first place?

On the one hand, I think (and admit I could be very very wrong) that teenagers today are a lot more likely to “joke”, inappropriately or not, about race than I would ever have been comfortable doing.  On the other hand, I think they’re vastly less likely to act on anything of the sort than the language might make one think.

Which, if I’m right (who knows?) is either a very good thing, or a very bad one.

Or both.

I have no idea.

And either, I suspect, do the schools, with their principals and teachers and superintendents who are more or less my age, who have kids with more or less the same pathologies, and run buildings full of kids with all of them and much much more.

Conclusion?  I have no idea.

…on Kool Aid Report.

Susan Sarandon?  Please call Alec Baldwin’s travel agent in re your plans.

Baldwin fell short on some promises in the past four years, and he could use the love.