Okay,Here's the Deal

While not exactly working with a clean bill of health, it is not dirty either -- let's call it a tad smudgy.

But I miss the grumpy souls who stumble in and out of this place and need to make a determined effort to get back in the old swing. Thanks to those two guys who check in every now and then . . . now, hand me my old guitar, pass the whiskey 'round, want you to tell everyone you meet that the candyman I is back in town.

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Thanks, and Fair Warning

Thanks -- Many thanks to all who have inquired about the extended absence. It seems that my body just wanted to send me a note that I am not as young as I like to think I feel sometimes, and that perhaps I need to start acting my age. It was quite scary for a few hours, but within a day all seemed nearly normal.

And fair warning -- After a brief hospital stay (including an $18,000 6-hour ER visit -- still wonder why we need universal single payer health care insurance?), and some extended time getting my energy back, I am now approaching 100%. So, I expect to be back here publishing knee-jerk cranky observations with regularity within a week or so. I am very pleased to report that there are no apparent residual effects and my doctors deny that I was even a candidate for this little event.

And the good news -- Baseball is back!

In the meantime -- One of my convalescent readings was a collection of English-language poems. This one, by Sigfried Sassoon struck my fancy around the time that the Despicable Cretin's death toll approached 4,000:

I KNEW a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again. . . . .

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

(More war poems by Sasson here)

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Home

A relative just sent me a link to this article on our old neighborhood which appeared in the Times while I was away. (The Times also produced a video companion to the story.)

I scampered on those streets, played in the playgrounds, and never, ever, felt scared or threatened, not for one single solitary minute. I never saw any violence on the streets or in the playgrounds, never saw anyone pull a knife or a gun, never even heard a gunshot in the night.

Everyone around me -- the other poor Irish, the Germans, the Puerto Ricans -- were just part of the neighborhood. The grown-ups looked out for other people's kids and everyone greeted everyone else by name when they passed on the street (and the kids always said "Mr." or "Mrs."). It was more of a neighborhood than most suburban neighborhoods that I've lived in during the five decades since. It didn't need cleaning up. A hand up, maybe. Instead, they cut the guts out of it and killed the spirit of the place to make way for the Starbucks and fern bars and their wealthy patrons.

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Relax. You're among friends.

That was the theme of my week away -- the first in countless years. The week was pointless, as it was intended to be. Relaxation was the goal of the time spent at one of those infamous Poconos resorts. By the end of the stay, I couldn't even force myself to walk any faster than a very leisurely stroll. Capping the week, Saturday evening was an intimate party of 9500 friends taking in a wonderful Ratdog/Allman Brothers show in the Poconos, followed quick on by a trip to the City to watch a thrilling game at the Stadium as the Yanks posted yet another win to move within four of Boston.

Having not read a newspaper, nor turned on a TV, I was pleasantly surprised to see that the Despicable Cretin had to let his Potemkin architect go home. And, I was not surprised to hear that, after winning four elections for the D.C. by nuzzling the religious crowd and presenting the wondering boy as a born again crusader, we learn that the little shit was a non-believer all along. Ummmm, I betcha that little dose of reality is making the christianistas feel all warm and fuzzy about surrendering their asses to the D.C. ramrod all these years.

Well, looks like it is time to get back to work . . . .

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ABFS Will Return

Around August 20, until then, me and the Iraqi government are going to the beach . . . .

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Smarter than I look . . . or lucky

Thanks to Wilkes-Barre poliblogger Danny Bauder for reminding me just how prescient, or just dumb and lucky, I can be. It was just a smidgen over a year ago that I commented on his blog about how the recently-destroyed Hazleton anti-tolerance ordnance was likely to be eviscerated on preemption grounds. I'd forgotten about that until Danny sent me the link to my little note.

From the Court's smackdown(page 186): We find for the plaintiffs on Count I of the complaint. Federal law pre-empts IIRA and RO. The ordinances disrupt a well-established federal scheme for regulating the presence and employment of immigrants in the United States. They violate the Supremacy Clause of the United States Constitution and are unconstitutional.

Heh heh. Just like a broken clock . . . .

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Reaching Back

It was definitely a weekend evening, probably in January. Well, perhaps it was mid-week, and it could have been February. But it was definitely night, or late afternoon.

Well, it was 1978, of that I am certain. The remaining cloudiness is explained by the decade in which our little tale plays out. (Settle in, kids. When I qualify my extraneous parentheticals with incidental rumination, it's going to be a rambler.)

Back in the day, before Ticketron (as the behemoth Ticket Master was known in its infancy) was a monopoly, concert tickets were distributed in a variety of, what might today be considered, unusual ways.

On the planet Ohio, tickets for certain venues were often sold through AAA offices. Reliable information on precise on-sale dates and times was not always easy to find. But that night, we found ourselves in the company of a young woman from Columbus O. who, wouldn't you know, was employed at the AAA there.

Now THAT bit of news was pretty exciting to your then-young and full of promise correspondent, because it had just been learnt that the tickets to an April 1978 performance by the Grateful Dead, at the Vets Memorial in Col. O. were to be brokered through, yup, AAA.

Our young friend was able to supply us with the precise on-sale date and time. Not only that, your salivating reporter learned that, because it was expected that most tiks would be sold in the Columbus area (Zero State having something approaching six-figures in attendance), the information about the ticket sales was not being generally distributed outside the capital city.

Further inquiry brought out that, notwithstanding the limited disclosures, one could mosey into a small town AAA office at just the right time and, if armed with the internal phone number of the ticket sales people in Columbus, have the local AAA folk order up a heapin' helpin' of those dearly sought G.D. passes. Likely without any wait in line.

Soon, your then long-haired, heavily bearded, sandaled correspondent had the requisite phone number carefully secure in his wallet, together with the start time for ticket sales. But first, where to score the bucks needed . . . . Holding some kind of official position in a certain social organization, one populated heavily with aficionados of a certain Band Beyond Description, we approached the treasurer of the organization and convinced that fiduciary that his peeps would appreciate the opportunity to score some primo tickets to the concert.

So it was that, on a cold Saturday morning in Febhruary, 1978, Yours T. arrived at the AAA office on the public square in a sleepy little rural O. townlet, clutching several hundred of other peeps monies.

Plopping down at a desk commanded by a blue-haired, paisley-dressed matron, and we asked for several dozen tickets to the Grateful Dead concert. Laughter at the never-before heard band, as did some desperate pleading to (quickly now) call the number I gave her to verify the ticket availability. Which she did, reporting that there were several thousand Columbus residents on line outside the office she called, all looking for the same tickets. My dozens were immediately reserved.

So it came to pass that, on April 19, 1978, caravans of like-minded peeps poured south and invaded Vets Memorial, to discover that we occupied pretty much the second through fifth and 7th rows, center, of that fine hall.

What ensued remains, in my admittedly fuzzy and sometimes skewered memories of those days, probably the best of all the many, many, many dozens of Dead shows enjoyed before and after.

Today, back to the Now, in 2007, this morning's mail stunningly brought forth a full, 3-CD set of that show, burned by one of my compatriots that night, and sua sponte delivered by him to half a dozen or so of us in attendance all those decades ago.

The recorded memory lives up to the remembrance entirely. The band started off the long evening with a rousing Bertha. During which the two aisles filled with twirling, dancing, and dazed Heads.

It wasn't beyond notice of the hardworking band that security was desperately trying to usher all back to their seats. To more than some of us, it seemed that the band extended Bertha even longer than usu. Then, as the tune was winding down, and just as the last of the dancing fans had finally been encouraged to begin a return to the seats, a mischievous Bobby appeared to give the signal and the boys suddenly jumped into a powerful Good Lovin'.

This, predictably, brought hundreds of the recently seated streaming back down the aisles -- to the exasperation of security and the apparent delight of the chuckling band.

And the night had only just begun.

Good Lovin' gave way to Friend of the Devil, itself turned into an amazing Passenger, then Candyman, Cassidy, Peggy-O, Me & My Uncle -> Big River and Deal rounded out the first set.

Following a well-deserved break, the boys, and Donna Jean, returned refreshed. Opening the second set with Sampson & Deliah, the journey took us through It Must Have Been the Roses, Estimated Prophet -> He's Gone ->Drums & Space -> The Other One -> Wharf Rat -> Around & Around. The encore included the GD's first ever performance of Werewolves of London followed by the evening-capping We Bid You Good Night. [UPDATE: One of my confederates who attended this show swears that my recollection of We Bid You Good Night was hallucinatory. I'll take his word for it. He does confirm the initial stage rush, an extended ending to Bertha whilst security cleared the asiles, followed upon by a joyful Good Lovin' downbeat perfectly (and to all appearances, intentionally) timed to renew the rush just as the last twirler was taking a seat.]

It was a night to be remembered. The Dead were at the top of their act and, your amazed and altered witness is convinced, they fed and fed off the great vibes generated by such a large concentration of friends at their feet.

Listening now to Jerry wailing through Must Have Been the Roses, he's not gone, all those decades haven't passed, and all those friends are not long since seen and spread far. Strange how no one comes round anymore . . . .

There's nothing like a Grateful Dead concert, kids. Nothing.

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Tagged

PSoTD & vox populi each tagged me with the same meme, back during one of my mental hiati from this joint.

I'm late getting to it, but getting to it I am.

I'm called on to post eight "random" facts about myself. Well, it is a little hard to force the "random" part, but here goes:

1. I've attended about 100 Grateful Dead Shows, including eight consecutive in NYC.
2. I've seen at least one production of every Shakespeare play.
3. On 9/11/01, I was about one-third the way through a then somewhat-newish biography of Che. Without intending to, I didn't resume reading it until two years later, at which time I also realized that I had read no fiction in that two years.
4. I rent 5 or 6 movies a week.
5. I've lost 60 pounds and ten inches around the waist since 2004, mostly by walking 20-30 miles a week.
6. I can mix more drinks, and better, now, then when I was a bartender in the '70s.
7. I have an "issue" with height, but am thinking about skydiving.
8. In the last few years, I have taught myself to touch type (as a journalist, I did 70+ wpm hunting & pecking), took up golf, and began teaching myself to play guitar.

I am supposed to pass this burden on to eight others. Given the extreme passing of time since the original meme, and that I don't have that many friends, I'll pass on the passing.

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Distractions abound . . . . .

but I'll be back with regularity soon . . . . .

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Gone Fishin'

Thanks to everyone who checked in. I'll be back soon.

(Image Credit Fallen Leaf House)

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This has got to be a Mistake

But, for today at least, we're a "Large Mammal" in the TTLB ecosystem. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

The "fine print", from the notice at the head of each TTLB page right now:

Notice 4/30/07: Yes, some major work is going on around the Ecosystem, and the rankings have gone wonky at the moment. Please bear with me, as this is a sign of good things to come --- lots of improvements coming!

(Sigh)

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House Keeping

About once a month we sit down and clean up the PA Poliblogroll, looking for stagnant blogs and broken links.

We also check out the blogrolls of those on our list, looking for additional PA Poliblogs to add.

In order to keep the list current, we have a loose rule of thumb -- if there hasn't been a post in a month or so, we delete it. If I can, I try to leave a comment on the blog, asking them to let me know when they reactivate so that we can put them on the list.

If your blog, or one of your favorites, seems to have been removed from the 'roll in error, PLEASE, let me know so that we can get it back on the list. Sometimes we had a bad URL, or the blog moved, or sometimes I just screw up. So don't be shy. Our goal is to keep the ABFS Poliblogroll the most complete list of active Pennsylvania Poliblogs going.

Also, a bit of an apology for those of you who came to us by way of Lefty Blogs over the weekend. In looking over our first year of posting, we also cleaned up some of the tags on the older posts. Lefty Blogs dutifully then read the newly-tagged posts as "new". So, in case you were wondering, no, Pennsylvania is NOT having another Senate race this year.

(Image Credit: "Sweeping Up A Storm", Samone Turnbull)

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Well, that's one . . . .

(Image Credit: "The Birthday Cake", Beryl Cook)

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Why I Blog

I previously served noticed that I wouldn't do another one of these memes. But my predecessors in this chain include such outstanding bloggers like Media Lizzy (who, I hear, has a thing for the portly man), and Blandly Urbane, who tagged me in a drive-by, that it would be presumptuous to decline.

So, five reasons why I blog:

5. My kids are grown and out on their own and my dog doesn't seem too interested in the arcanum to which I am drawn, and much less my opinions on them.

4. It is a form of therapy -- I get to work out my "issues" by pretending I am talking about the "Issues".

3. The gobs of money that the click-pay ads bring in . . . . if I ate at Burger King, it wouldn't pay for a decent meal there . . . .

2. No one can stop me.

1. Because freedom is, indeed, untidy. It is a big, fat, slob of a burden that we all carry. Janis was wrong . . . it means there's a lot left to lose . . . . .

and the next victims are:

Phillybits
John Morgan
Coyote Angry
Patrick Hillman
and, that wacky blogger himself,
Dr. Mahmood Ahmadinejad (now, don't go all nuclear on me Ahmaddy, pal)


Okay, that's it, and this time I mean it . . . .

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New PA Poliblogs

Added about a dozen or so Pennsylvania poliblogs to the good old PA PoliblogRoll. Some new, some have been around a while, just hiding from us. Wasn't organized enough to keep track of them, so you'll have to find them for yourself. Lots of interesting work being done in the Commonwealth on all sides of the aisle.

NOTE:Please update to the NEW URL NOW:

www.abigfatslob.com

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2008 Campaign Fantasy Game

Could be fun, we'll play along for a while: Sign up HERE for the Fantasy Politics Game.

NOTE:Please update to the NEW URL NOW:

www.abigfatslob.com

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The Blogroll

I've cleaned up the PA Poliblog roll. Weeded out those on "hiatus". If your PA Poliblog isn't on the list, let me know. I tried to leave comments or send emails to those that were deleted, asking them to let me know if/when they reactivate. But, some of you have turned off comments and don't list an email.

I never ask anyone that I put on my blogroll to reciprocate -- I figure that if they want to, fine, if not, so be it.

I've only asked two bloggers to put me on their blogrolls -- one because THEY asked readers to submit their blogs, the other because I am a big fan, fellow traveller, and we seem to overlap coverages. Both turned me down -- the first because they were fronting for a candidate I was bashing and they were too weak to take the hits. The other gave me an explanation that didn't really fit the facts, but that was their right and I just slunk away.

So, my rejection rate is about the same as it was in high school . . . . Having rejection issues, I don't ask. I'd say at least 75% of the blogs I keep on the roll don't list me. I'd love it if they did . . . . But the PA blogroll is intended to be a resource, not an endorsement. With one exception (the spineless blog), every PA poliblog I have come across is on the list. So I don't really see it as a quid pro quo thing.

Should I ask? Do you? Do you expect reciprocation?

NOTE:

WE ARE MOVING!!! For now, the old Blogger address will bring you to the new location -- but that can change at any time. Please update your Blogroll, Links, and Bookmarks NOW:

www.abigfatslob.com

Click Here to Blogroll A Big Fat Slob!

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Yeah, well

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

NOTE:

WE ARE MOVING!!! For now, the old Blogger address will bring you to the new location -- but that can change at any time. Please update your Blogroll, Links, and Bookmarks NOW:

www.abigfatslob.com

Click Here to Blogroll A Big Fat Slob!

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Lookit What I Did

From the Slob's shameless tales of self-promotion:

I resisted the self-congratulatory tout for being selected as one of the dozen or so Political Grind Network bloggers (in part because I wasn't too sure it wasn't some kind of Wayne's World for poliblogs). But, considering the list of fellow-grind members, I've decided that it is pretty cool to be included.

Cooler still, and proving that when the PGN editors get together, alcohol must play a heavy role, one of my recent ramblings has been tagged with an attaboy by the fellas drinking in Uncle Simon's basement.

Hey, thanks for noticing.

NOTE:

WE ARE MOVING!!! For now, the old Blogger address will bring you to the new location -- but that can change at any time. Please update your Blogroll, Links, and Bookmarks NOW:

www.abigfatslob.com

Click Here to Blogroll A Big Fat Slob!

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ABFS Will Return

On about February 20 . . . .

I'm easily distracted . . . . work, life, oral surgery, hanging with peeps, visiting offspring . . . . I'll be back, a more miserable bastard than ever, sometime after the great President's Day Holiday Event . . .

NOTE:

WE ARE MOVING!!! For now, the old Blogger address will bring you to the new location -- but that can change at any time. Please update your Blogroll, Links, and Bookmarks NOW:

www.abigfatslob.com

Click Here to Blogroll A Big Fat Slob!

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