Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s been a while. But listen, it isn’t because my interest in the site’s waning or I got shanked in chow cause a’ what happened to T-Bone in the showers. For some reason, life just suddenly went into overdrive. Miss D’s schedule got busier– but so did the Mrs’, so that meant it was up to me to get D around. And then there’s the new calling… but that’s for another post.
All this drama going on, what with the arguments before the Supreme Court and Big Love and OB-Wan earmarking like ol’ skool and Pelosi making us all nostalgic for Newt… Speaking of earmarks, there were over 8,000 of them in the bill that the prez signed– including several from the lobbyists in his cabinet that were supposed to not have made it into his cabinet– and not one single earmark from the good senator of Arizona (who also voted ‘no’ to the passing of the bill). And when POTUS signed that huge hunk of pork product (without the campaign-promised five days of public exposure), he did so in private, away from the cameras. Plausible deniability, maybe? And then he sends his press secretary out to inform the American people that there was no public bill signing because it wasn’t on the schedule. Got that? It wasn’t on the schedule because it wasn’t on the schedule. So much for transparency. Ohhh, yeah… feel the CHANGE®!!
Saw the Dropkick Murphys a couple of weeks ago in the Hollywood Palladium– I and another white-haired high priest. The venue was “standing room only” and we stayed glued to the ground like oaks whilst drunken skinheads all around us did mosh pits and something called a “circle pit.” This is where they all start ripping off their shirts and frenzily run around in a tight circle, throwing themselves into each other, pushing, shoving, running faster and faster. You’d have thought that, at any moment, a bloody-knuckled melee’ would ensue, pulling us in and resulting in sticky-slick scalps, fire hoses, police batons and mass arrests. Alas, such was not the case. In fact, if any of the Aryan brothers chanced to stumble, another would pick him up so they could continue to run and shove. It was enchanting. My buddy, Rich, is a professional hurler, about 6’3″ and built like a linebacker, so whenever one of the skinheads hurled into us, they looked up at him and plead a “Sorry!” before scurrying back into the riot. The music was awesome, naturally– Celtic punk. We bought t-shirts and swore next time we’d get into that circle pit ourselves.
Did anyone else listen to the arguments before the CA Supreme Court last Thursday? I felt bad for Atty. General Brown’s deputy. The guy got a thorough thrashing from the justices. Who’da thought?? Ken Starr was clearly the most masterful of the bunch (and I’m not just saying that because of the camp I reside in). He really was brilliant and seemed to resonate with the judges. Don’t take my word for it, though. Listen for yourself.
Without delving into anecdotes (like I said before– another time), I will share that I finally got my calling in the new ward. I am now the executive secretary. I know it’s verboten, but before I was set apart, I spilled to a friend in the old ward who’s held that position under four bishoprics. He was delighted– told me I’d love the calling. He said, “David, you are in the thick of everything that goes on in the ward, without having to bear the weight of the mantle.” So far he’s been right. It’s like sitting in on cabinet meetings on The Hill without actually belonging to the cabinet. But I will say, the hours are brutal. I get to the church building at 6am and don’t leave until after 3:30pm– and that’s just Sunday. That said, I am enjoying it very much.
The other major thing going on these days is, I’m currently the front-runner in my office’s Biggest Loser contest, which is scheduled to end April 6. I’m so happy I finally got in gear to do this. It’s still not going briskly enough for my liking, however, and with the new, brutal schedule I’m lucky to get into the gym twice a week. I did start boxing last week, though, bought some gloves and proceeded to pulverize my hands, arms, shoulders, back… as I go pounding the bag… Bill Conti playing in my head the whole time.
All right, anyway, this was just a little catch-up, a little spring cleaning. Next time I’ll try to keep it more thematic.
…gonna fly now…flying high now…