Urban Dog

This week:

• I’m going to Nashville,
• Sami’s going to Wilkes-Barre
• Stedman’s going to Philadelphia

It’s a dry-run for Stedman to see how he takes to being an urban dog. During the 4 days that he’s there, he’ll become familiar with Malcolm X Park, be able to jump up onto the couches like he did when they were here and have 2 cats for roommates. I think the cats will first hide from him, then attack him and finally fall in love with him when they find out he’s a non-stop lick machine.

Note to the cats: hide your food.

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From Our Department of Golden Oldies: Remember when Stedman used to tweet? He was funny.

Rally to Restore Comedy/Low Bus Fares

waiting for the Chinatown bus or total attendees of ironic hipster rally?

I only hope that the Chinatown buses are keeping comparative statistics on their volume for today. I have a feeling the crowd of young intellectual hipsters that makes use of this service for dirt cheap transportation between major east coast cities has figured out that getting on a HuffintonPost bus or an MTV bus for free is a better deal. Leave cold NY early in the morning, spend the day in sunny DC and then snooze on the bus on the way home later on.

And who’s to say that you have to attend the Jon Stewart rally once you get there? Unless they make you sign a contract when you get on the bus that assigns a penalty of payment for transportation cost if you fail to attend, then you’d be free to take a self-guided tour of the city. Visit the mint and kiss U.S. currency goodbye. Maybe go take a gander at the most productive backyard garden in the world. It’s historic! If you’re lucky, you might spot the White House bees out for a little fresh air.

Jon Stewart and Seven Colbert aren’t that funny even with scripting and editing – I can’t imagine there’s going to be too many light comedic moments at the rally itself. If anyone is going looking to be entertained, they’d get more laughs going over to the Marine Corps Museum and get tickled by Homeland Security. Speaking of which, I wonder if the DC Shooter is planning on attending this rally?

Leaving Denver

I didn’t know that Denver had so many bums. It was 30ish degrees yesterday morning and they were all over the place. More bums than I saw in San Francisco.

I saw a very pretty blond in a public sculpture garden. She was respectful of the chain around the edges of the lawn but her big dog was enjoying the grassy area unleashed. I was walking along headed for the train station when I heard her screaming “stop stop stop!” . Sure enough, he was bumping chests and snaring with a bigger dog, this one on a leash being held by its owner. The blond stood on the sidewalk yelling and other people went in to break up the dogs. The bigger dog stood quietly on the leash next to his owner, the blond’s dog ran to her. Both were wagging their tails and the blond was covering her face but still yelling.

If I had to judge Denver based on this trip, I’d say it’s fill of bums and dumb clucks. Also, it might be true that the sun shines 360 days a year here, but it’s also true that it’s shining down onto some pretty ugly scenery.

There’s Going To Be A Situation On Nov. 2nd

On Election Day, I plan on using the quotation that’s in the headline of this article as a tag line, but I’m going to preface it with three words so that it reads like this:

AMERICA TO OBAMA: “(insert quotation here)“

Wish Me Luck

UPDATE:

current colorado road conditions

Colorado! It’s windy as hell and about 40 degrees. Also, snow.

I flew US Airways this time. Let me tell you something – those stewardesses run a tight ship. The guy across the aisle from me had the good luck to be seated next to a very striking very young blond who hung with wide-eyed interest on his every word. The poor guy could hardly talk fast enough. He was jiggling his leg, fidgeting with some kind of little paper scraps and talking a mile a minute. And we hadn’t even left the gate.

When the stews started performing the safety speech, the guy kept on jabbering away. Then the PA system went dead, the stewardess came right up to the guy and gave him what for. “Maybe you’ve heard this a hundred times but there are other people that might want to listen to it and you are going to have to stop talking now. I feel like I’m trying to talk over you.” The guy was stunned, of course, because he was in a trance brought about by proximity to the lovely blond. The boss stewardess hustled down the aisle from the front of the plane and looked at him and looked at me and asked us if there was a problem. Could she have thought that I was the lovely blond who cast a spell on her fellow traveler?

Anyway, I’m here and I made it through all 1.5 million square feet of the airport not too battered by the experience and it only cost me three bucks total in tips.

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I’m taking this in case I have to club someone.

From Our Department of Poor Planning:

Remember when I hurt my knee pounding around Las Vegas in February? Except for one short quick wheelchair-assisted trip to Nashville, I haven’t been out on the road since. That all changes tomorrow when I fly to Denver.

Just to make it extra exciting, I’m flying from Philadelphia instead of Newark. This means I have to pack tonight – not my habit to plan that far ahead – and hit the road at Miserable O’clock in order to get there in time to shuffle through the security checks. It’s a one-day meeting so I won’t even have any free time to monitor myself for altitude sickness, let alone jet lag.

Then on Monday I fly to Nashville but leave there on Thursday for Bethesda MD (God help me). Finally a train trip home on Sunday. If I last that long.

I’m taking two pair of black pants and two black tops and an assortment of scarves and pins and I’d take a bewb belt if I had one so I won’t have to drag a big suitcase around with me.

If you are counting, that means I’ll be gone for election day but not to worry for I already filled out my ballot. My liberal -nay, progressive!- U.S. congressman did not even have the courtesy to reply to my letter asking him not to vote for health-care reform until more could be known about it. But did he listen? No. And so I punished him with my ballot but before I did , I wrote to him again to let him know. Take that, Frank Pallone.