TiVo Lady

Obama Puppy Audition

Though somewhat elderly, she wishes to audition for the new First Family's puppy position:

I've tried to tell her that she's past her prime--like most of us Boomers--but she refuses to listen to reason.  She still "thinks young," she says, and besides, she has a White House temperament.  She will bark furiously at whomever tries to enter, then proceed to slavishly lick their faces.  A natural D.C. politician.

Also, proof that it's fall:

(Obama Insight: Ack!!)

As thrilling as this election was and is and will be, here's a scary Boomer thought:

For the first time in our lives, our President is younger, younger, YOUNGER than we are!!

ACK!!!

Will Vote/Voting/Voted

I think it is safe to say that TiVo Lady votes at the only pre-Colonial-working-farm-with-giftshop in the entire US of A.  See?  I had to pass the gift shop on my way to vote:  number 91 in my half of the precinct at 8:08 a.m. this morning.  I must say that I have NEVER felt as much of a thrill about voting as I did today.  And I have voted for President.. um, let's see..ten times (?).  Or, maybe, nine times, now that I think about it...Never for Nixon, though.  Or George, either.

Here's how it looked, in the highly primitive New York State polling booth.  We have little levers that you push down, and your vote is cast. 

Allegedly.  (Let's not think about that part.)


(This is for you, RioGringa, so you can see what you missed by having to vote absentee, while thousands of miles from home...)

Then, after I voted, I could see the displays in the educational areas of the farm, showing how the farm was colonized, by the Dutch and by other workers. . .(look carefully)

                                                                               

Boomer Politics, Local Edition

When in the course of human events, Boomers reach midlife, their children depart the home, taking with them endless parental responsibilities, worries, and most especially, the consumption of vast quantities of time.  Thus it is that some Boomers decide to 'give back' to their community by volunteering to sit on a board, or to chair a committee, or to run for office.  Here, folks, is where the sticket gets wicky.  My dear friend, Kay, is running for Village Trustee, and is in the midst of a heated election, as only local politics can get.  (The incumbent mayor, part of her team, is running against a guy he brought onto the Board two short years ago.  Now, in an overtly Oedipal move, younger guy is trying to depose older guy.  The slinging of insults, innuendo, and lies is rampant.)  But she had to go to England for a week, to watch her youngest son play in a super-important rugby tournament.  (You may well ask:  is there such a thing?  and the answer would be:  yes.)  So, not only am I taking care of her little dog, Skippy, for the week, but she asked if I would deliver a political speech for her, at a neighborhood-sponsored debate.  Sure, said I, why not? 

Here's why not.  She sent me a speech of several hundred words.  Practicing out loud, and speaking really really fast, it took me eight minutes.  But.  When I arrived at the debate, I was informed that I had two minutes to speak.  And there was a guy there with stopwatch.  He was looking at the stopwatch, and whispering "10 seconds" after one minute, fifty.  So, you see, they were dead serious about this two minute business.  I spoke quickly, skipping whole sentences, paragraphs, pages, but what came out of my mouth didn't quite make any sense.  But it was okay, anyway, because most of the 75 people or so who showed up had already made up their minds.  Plus, nearly all were Boomers, who seem to be the only ones with the time and energy and interest to care about really local politics.  No shots of Boomers, only dogs!

I'm still in mourning over the cancellation of Firefly, which happened in 2002, but I just now noticed. I   finished watching all 14 episodes on the rental DVD.  My pleasure in watching this was huge, but has considerably reduced the pleasure I used to feel in watching, say, Ugly Betty, which now seems insipid and silly.  Or even 24 and Lost, which I used to adore.  Well, at least I used to consider both high-quality entertainment.  Ruined, dammit!!  Still, this week's episode of Rome, "A Necessary Fiction," was once again spectacular and thrilling and oh so full of "bitterness and ashes.'  (The great curse by the suicidal Servilia.)  Only two episodes left, to deal with Cleopatra and Marc Antony and Octavian and an entire civilization about to begin its descent.  (As in the fall of the Roman empire, right?)  I only wish that HBO had, say, $100 million so that I could spend the next decade watching every minute of the entire collapse!