See ya on Dec. 8

Taking some time off; I believe it's called a "stay-cation."

Will post then; be good.

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The case of the felonious fiancée

So it turns out that Cristal (actual spelling) wasn’t in it for the money.

Or so she says.

Cristal Taylor, formerly the alleged fiancée of Dallas Mavericks star Dirk Nowitzki, said in a jailhouse interview that she still loves the big guy “very, very much.”

Personally, I have my doubts. I think she was enamored of Dirk’s dough, but that’s just me.

Though it doesn’t matter what I or anyone thinks about this, because Cristal is going to be on the sidelines for a while instead of competing with Mark Cuban to be the most annoying person at a Mavs’ home game.

She facing a legal charge (or two), and she’s already a guest of Missouri taxpayers for the next five years due to a previous misunderstanding.

Poor Cristal. On the other hand (literally) she got to keep the $190K engagement ring that Dirk slipped on her finger one starry night.

That ain’t too shabby. And if Dirk is still burning the candle for her when she becomes a free woman, well, perhaps their love can blossom again like a long-dormant desert flower. Or something.

… You don’t think Dirk would be that dumb, do ya?

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Bake the bird

You wanna know what’s wrong with this country? I’ll tell you what’s wrong with this country:

Some idiot in Massachusetts wants to spend $2,600 so her pet turkey can have cataract surgery.

Why? ‘Cause the turkey – she’s named it Jerry – can’t eat or go flying with his female turkey friend, which she has named Penelope.

Awwww.

So she posted an ad on Craigslist asking for donations to pay for cataract surgery for poor Jerry.

This is utter nonsense.

That $2,600 could provide real health care for a real human being in need, not some stupid bird.

Yeah, I know we all waste money in different ways. But treating pets like people in this extreme way is just flat out wrong.

There is no shortage of turkeys in this world – those with names or those without.

“Jerry” should be laid out on a wood block, separated from his head with a sharp cleaver and then plucked, gutted and stuffed.

Then he should be baked at 400 degrees with a delightful yet restrained array of seasonings until his white and dark meat are nicely done and separate from the bone with minimal effort.

If “Jerry” could take one for the team like this, he would make a real contribution to life as we know it.

Until then, he’s just making fertilizer we don’t need.

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No complaints here

OK, maybe Congress isn’t entirely worthless.

For example, at least we have Rep. Emmanuel Cleaver who is pushing to have the day before Thanksgiving declared the nation’s official “Complaint Free Wednesday.”

It’s about time.

Congress has declared special days/weeks/months for everything else imaginable. There’s even a National Rutabaga Appreciation Week.

OK, there isn’t. But there could be, ‘cause lots of other silly things get honored.

At least a Complaint Free day has some logic behind it.

For one blessed 24-hour span, you couldn’t carp about the recession, gas prices, global warming, instant replay, Snuggies, anyone named Kardashian, Starbucks, the Detroit Lions, vampire movies, the war of 1812, Vladimir Putin, sour milk, Henny Youngman jokes, twist-off bottle caps, hurricanes, Bigfoot, warranties that expire too soon, the European Union or the bitter dispute over the Florida recount in 2000 that seemed to last forever.

For one peaceful moment in the space/time continuum, we would be grateful for what is good and sweet and pure instead of resentful about what is bad and smelly and annoying.

And the kumbaya feeling would naturally carry over through Thanksgiving Day.

But on Friday morning, it would be open season again on anything and everything.

I can’t wait. … Did I mention that I can’t stand anyone named Kardashian?

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Do the crime, do the time

I’ve mentioned this old joke before in this blog, but a current news item demands a replay.

(Hey, if TV can do it, why can’t I?)

The news blurb is that an elderly gentleman is robbing banks in the San Diego area.

The robber in question has been christened – what else? – the “Geezer Bandit.”

Gramps has knocked off five banks since the summer. Maybe he pulls a job when the Social Security check is late.

Whatever. The old joke goes like this:

A 90-year-old man robbed several banks but was eventually caught, tried and convicted. He was standing before the judge about to be sentenced.

“This is pretty serious,” the judge said as he went over the records. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to sentence you to 20 years in the state prison.”

The old thief was appalled.

“But judge,” he protested, “I’m 90 years old. I don’t think I can do 20 years!”

The judge, a thoughtful man in his own right, paused for a few second before replying:

“Well, then just do the best you can.”

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Un more time

It’s happened again! And by “again,” I mean for the second time (that I know of) since 2000.

A politician has “unconceded” an election.

Al Gore first plowed this embarrassing ground in 2000 when he conceded Florida and therefore the whole election to W.

Then he thought about it some more, and he unconceded. (Instantly cheesing off W., who was probably already starting to draft his inaugural speech.)

Sort of like Kerry in ’04, who voted for the bill before he voted against it.

Anyhoo, this time, it’s that darned 23rd House district in upstate New York.

On election night, Nov. 3, Conservative Party candidate Doug Hoffman conceded to Democrat Bill Owens.

Since then, however, Hoffman has realized that 10,000 absentee ballots remain to be counted, and he’s down by only 3,000 votes.

Hence his unconcession.

Who knows how this will play out. But what if Hoffman really does end up losing?

Will he concede again? Does he re-concede or just recede? Or un-unconcede?

Or just admit he’s a dumbass who jumped the gun?

I guess this is why “unfriend” was named the word of the year.

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Army brat

I have a bad feeling about this one.

I fear that Army Spc. Alexis Hutchinson is going to come out of this one a hero or a victim, when the only person she can blame for this mess is herself.

Hutchinson is an Army cook and a single mom. Bad combination, especially since her unit was supposed to deploy to Afghanistan.

Hutchinson didn’t make the flight because she would have had to turn over her 10-month-old son to foster care. She didn't have anyone else who could take care of him -- like a husband.

In one sense, that bites. Who would want to give up his/her kid?

But, hey, Hutchinson didn’t work in just any job. She was in the military. As such, she should have known from Day One that having a baby without a husband could create some major problems.

But I guess we’re long past the days when you could lay down common-sense rules and expect people to follow them.

Today, everybody has a right to everything. If you deny anything to anyone, you’re the bad guy.

Sure, unwed births happen. But as much as possible, every child should grow up in a stable home with a mommy and a daddy.

That’s good for the woman, the man, and most importantly, the innocent child.

In this case, it's also good for the U.S. Army

FEEDBACK: Whaddya think? Does she deserve sympathy or a court martial?

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Flu & you

With so much going lately we sort of lost track of swine flu. But it’s still out there, getting stronger, waiting to drop the hammer on a nation already reeling from unemployment and terrorism (and the end of the baseball season).

Or is it?

The question remains: Will swine flu be big 'n' bad, or about the same as most flu strains?

So far, no one knows. And so far, swine flu has sickened nearly 22 million Americans and killed nearly 4,000.

That’s grim, but not as bad as what was predicted. And not much worse than a “normal” flu season.

The good news, sort of, is that most people who get swine flu become only mildly ill and don’t even need a doctor’s care.

But the numbers are expected to get worse as the winter drags on. And we still don’t have enough vaccine for those who want it. (Like me!)

I will keep trying to get the magic inoculation. With my luck, that might be April, when the epidemic is over.

But I do know this:

In recent years I have gotten flu shots and didn’t get the flu. But in earlier years I didn’t get flu shots … and didn’t get the flu either.

If Obamacare can solve those kinds of riddles, I’m all for it.

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The sludge keeps flowing

What is this, dirtbag-o’-the-day?

We have the Fort Hood horror. We have the mastermind of the D.C. sniper attacks finally getting the needle. Now we have more lurid revelations about the Cleveland serial killer.

Sort of makes you nostalgic for Balloon Boy or Jon & Kate.

The Cleveland killer, Anthony Sowell, murdered at least 11 women and buried them in and around his home. The key words there are “at least.”

The toll is still being added up as bodies – and parts of bodies – are being found.

The latest development is that the stench around his home is growing stronger, which of course suggests more secrets remain to be uncovered.

And the cops are just starting to look into the abandoned house next door, which may hold other surprises.

Ick.

No telling how this one will play out.

But when Doctor Death from Fort Hood recovers from his wounds, the feds ought to stick him in the same cell with the creep from Cleveland.

That ought to make both guests of the taxpayers keep one eye open at night.

And if one of ’em tries to practice his specialty on the other, well, that’s the way the scales of justice tilt sometime.

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One down, one to go

Finally, the mastermind of the D.C. sniper attacks met the same fate he bestowed on 10 other people.

The victims of John Allen Muhammad were completely innocent, of course. He was guilty as hell, of course.

Two words: Good riddance.

Funny, but I can think of another mass killer with a Muslim name who’s been in the news lately.

I can’t say I’ll be happy if/when the Fort Hood coward meets the same end. Let’s call it grim satisfaction.

Muhammad got the needle only seven years after his killing spree. In this country, that’s warp speed.

Let’s see if we can take care of this one a little quicker.

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Gorby & The Wall

Amidst all the gloom over the monstrous killings at Ford Hood, it’s hard to get too excited over anything else in this country or abroad.

But the fall of the Berlin Wall was truly one of the most wonderful days in modern history. It was worth a 20th birthday party on Monday.

Ironically, the current German chancellor, Angela Merkel, was one of the thousands of deliriously happy East Germans who poured through the gates that magical night.

She and the other dignitaries said a lot at Monday’s celebration. One of the things she said was that former Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev deserved special praise for his role in bringing about the end of the hated wall.

"You made this possible — you courageously let things happen, and that was much more than we could expect," she said of him -- and to him, since he was there as well.

Fine. It was a big party, and everybody was in a good mood. Anybody who wasn’t named Josef Stalin probably would get something nice said about him.

But no one should ever forget that Gorby never wanted to end the Soviet Union and communism. He wanted to “perfect” it, to make it more humane.

Which of course is impossible, because that whole crappy system was built on denying people real liberty.

As soon as the mental and physical bonds were loosened a bit, East Europeans and Russians were not satisfied with a little freedom, a little justice, a little prosperity.

They understandably wanted it all, and that’s why the Evil Empire crumbled soon after the wall came tumbling down.

So say what you want about Gorby and the other socialist “reformers.” They were much better than the thugs they succeeded, but don’t put them on a pedestal.

In the end, they were simply useful idiots who helped get us from there to here.

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Fort Hood horror

The facts are still trickling in on the wicked shootings at Fort Hood. There’s a lot we don’t know, and may never know.

Here’s something we do know: The person or persons responsible for this are the lowest of the low.

Sick haters like that are disgusting enough.

When you compare them to the decent, principled men and women who have sacrificed so much to serve our country, the gap between shooter and victim is beyond comprehension.

May God bless all those targeted by this cowardly attack.

The grief over this one extends far, far beyond Fort Hood.

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Cash candidate

I guess the words “normal” and “Texas governor” just can’t seem to find themselves in the same sentence.

Don’t take my word for it; ask Farouk Shami.

He is, if you’ve been waiting for a white knight, the latest person/character/candidate to make a run for the governor’s mansion. (Which, if I recall correctly, is gutted, unoccupied and burned.)

Shami is described as a wealthy “hair care executive.” This is ironic because the current guv, Rick Perry, is sometimes called Gov. Goodhair.

Anyhoo, Shami says he will spend $10 million of his own money to oust Perry. With all that cash, you might think he’s an Elephant, but he will run under the Donkey banner.

Shami says he is “100 percent sure” he will be the next guv. I would put his odds a little lower. OK, a lot lower.

Let’s face it, the man does not have name recognition. And the name he has is not yer basic Texan.

When some Texans hear “Shami,” they’ll think “Shamwow.”

My advice would be to rethink this whole thing and save $10 mil. His kids will thank him for it.

At this rate, Kinky Friedman could end up as the most trustworthy candidate.

And you thought politics was boring.

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Talk is cheap

As the World Series shifts to New York for crucial games 6 and maybe 7, millions of baseball fans are anxiously asking:

Will the Yankee’s catcher keep going out to the mound during the game and wasting so much danged time?

Yes, sports fan, it was not your imagination. The World Series games were dragging along at a languid pace – even more so than usual.

In Game 4, catcher Jorge Posada trotted out to chat with pitcher C.C. Sabathia a mind-boggling total of eight times in one inning.

Good grief. I have less contact with some of my family. (And that’s not a bad thing, but that’s another blog.)

Posada lamely defended his Dilbertian obsession with meetings: “It’s just part of the game. We want to talk with each other so we know what we’re doing.”

Jeez, Jorge, you’re playing a freakin’ game! Stop jawin’ and start throwin’.

And let’s face it, many of these meetings were simply not necessary.

Posada later confirmed that during some of the confabs, he and C.C. discussed whether they would have fish or chicken after the game, debated the science of global warming and kicked around some early Oscar picks.

The game is slow enough as it is. Slow it up even more and I believe time will stand still.

On the other hand, at least the endless meetings delay the inevitable Yankee victory and the endless crowing from their obnoxious fans on how great the team is.

New Yawkers really should be high-fiving the Steinbrenner family for writing all those big checks and buying a championship.

Wait’ll next year. Cards in six.

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Cruisin' for a bruisin'

Sometimes, size does matter.

But if you’re going on a cruise ship for a week or so to get away from it all and relax, do you really wanna pick the world’s largest cruise ship?

Apparently, the brain trust at Royal Caribbean International thinks so. They have just launched the world’s largest cruiser, and it’s a monster.

How big? Try five times the size of the Titanic. It’s 40 percent larger than the next biggest cruise ship.

It can carry 6,300 passengers and has a crew of 2,100. The danged thing is 20 stories high!

And it has seven “neighborhoods,” a golf course and an ice-skating rink.

In other words, it’s like a lot of cities. Which I believe is what people go on cruise ships to get away from.

They named it Oasis of the Seas. I would have chosen Colossus of the Seas.

And I will not choose to book passage on it.

If I want to spend a lot of money and eat strange foods and be surrounded by tons of people, I’ll go to a pro football game like everybody else.

And I won’t get seasick.

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