It's not over

One of the very few downsides to Barack Obama's big win last week - or so I had presumed at the time - was that, to paraphrase the great Richard Nixon, we wouldn't have Sarah Palin to kick around anymore.

I guess we can move Sarah Palin-kicking-around back into the "still an option" category.

Alaska's brainiac-in-chief is apparently continuing her media tour, promoting, um, herself? Maybe she's just laying the groundwork for a series of educational guides - kind of like Caribou Barbie Berlitz - that would enable the rest of us over down here to learn what the hell she means when she says Yoda-inspired stuff like this: “But not me personally were those cheers for.”

Or this: “And if there is an open door in ’12 or four years later, and if it is something that is going to be good for my family, for my state, for my nation, an opportunity for me, then I’ll plow through that door.”

Which makes me think that someone should explain to her how doors work. Y'know, if they're open and all, walking through the empty space usually does the trick. I don't think there's any plowing required.

Limited release

This weekend, I finally got around to watching Donnie Brasco, which had been on my Netflix queue since I had a Netflix queue. And even before then, thanks to recs from friends, it was on my must-see list.

You've got your best-actor-of-his-generation Johnny Depp. You've got your Al Pacino. (And this was filmed pre-recurring-caricature-of-Al-Pacino Al Pacino.) You've got your before-he-was-a-star Paul Giamatti, whose character asks about the meaning of the word fuhgeddaboutit. Not to mention the before-he-was-dead Bruno Kirby. And you've got your can't-miss story of federal agent infiltrating a New York mob family.

To which I now say: Eh.

And so, without further delay, it's the return of Six-word Movie Reviews!

The film: Donnie Brasco.
The six-word review: Good, not great. Watch Goodfellas instead.

Step it up, Southwest!

One key benefit of being a member of Southwest Airlines' frequent flier program is that you get a birthday card every year.

So for several birthdays, I've been cheered by the annual arrival of my card from Southwest - I marvel that it always shows up well before any other cards or presents from, well, people I actually know. It has always made me feel like if I ever did anything that caused every relative and friend to stop talking to me, at least I'd get a birthday card from someone. Even if that someone was a no-frills airline whose flight attendants are sometimes a little too chatty for my taste.

So, yes, I was grateful for this year's card, which spelled out "Happy Birthday" using letters from the radio operators' alphabet - Hotel, Alpha, Papa, Papa, Yankee, and so on. That in itself made me happy because it reminded me of the name of one of my two or three favorite albums of all time.

But I have to admit that, thanks to a couple of other savvy marketers, my excitement about Southwest's birthday greetings has begun to pale somewhat in the last 24 hours.

First, I got an email from the fish-taco-making geniuses at Rubio's - at some point last year I became a proud member of their Beach Club, which entitled to me to receive lots of emails from Rubio's. Yesterday's message offered a free meal, up to $7, for my cumpleanos. There's a Rubio's right near my office, so you can bet I'll be cashing that sucker in.

(And when I do, you can be sure I'll be thinking about the chain's rather oddly worded radio ads, which ask you, the listener, to "Open your mouth. We're mentally going south.")

Then, waiting for me in the mail when I got home was a card from Banana Republic containing a $15 gift certificate - either because someone there really likes me or because I have a BR credit card. (Yeah yeah, whatever. You get good discounts. Give me a break.) Fifteen dollars - not bad! Good bet I'll cash that one in, too, since there are Banana Republic stores approximately every four miles in L.A.

So just by living another year - which for the most part wasn't that hard - I earned $22 yesterday.

And I know it's the thought that counts and all, but my thought is that maybe Southwest could fall in line here. I really do appreciate the card, you know, but next year? A few extra drink coupons or a couple of credits toward my next free flight might be nice.

Right, wrong and rights

Wonderful - I mean really wonderful - fantastic and, to me, still a little bit unbelievable. Though Obama had my support from the get-go (or couldn't you tell?), I really didn't think this country would elect a black president in my lifetime. Even after he won primaries and caucuses, I doubted whether he could win the party's nomination, let alone a general election. I thought there were too many people across the nation who just wouldn't, couldn't, vote for a black man. Here's an understatement: Glad I was wrong.

Last night, I suppose, will be one of a small handful of those moments in my life about which I'll say, "I remember where I was when..." in 30 or 40 years.

My celebration of Obama's victory was tempered this morning, however, by other election news. I woke up this morning to a reminder that there really are plenty of people - more than 5.1 million in California alone - who still suffer from a paralyzing mix of fear, ignorance or a combination thereof. Here's what some of those people look like:



(Thanks to L.A. Times for the photo.)

Let's be clear: This a picture of people who are ecstatic that may of their fellow citizens will again be treated differently under the law, simply because of who they choose to spend their lives with. So, way to go, Jim Domen of Yorba Linda. I can see why you'd thrust your arms in the air as though you've just won the Super Bowl. I mean, you did an awesome job rescinding a basic civil right from thousands and thousands of California men and women just because... I give up. I'm at a complete loss. I hear the "threatening traditional marriage" argument and I don't understand what that means or how two gay people getting married has even a remote impact on your life.

I guess you can rest easy tonight, knowing that no more of those highly dangerous gay couples will be able to get married in California. Kind of like you could have rested easy last night, when gay marriage had absolutely no effect on anything you did. But whatever.

Out, damned spots

Depending on the results of the actual voting, I believe the third or fourth best news at the end of the day will be that we don't have to watch election ads anymore for a year or two or four. That's change I can believe in.

(Although I recognize the next sonic annoyance, wall-to-wall Christmas music, is just around the corner. Nothing my little friend can't take care of, though.)

An email from my dad this morning contained the best phrase I've heard in a while. In reference to the election, he wrote that today's events would be "kind of filling in the crevices of uncertainty for a day or two." With a tweak or two, I thought it could be the basis for the title of the next Bond movie.

Lines at the polls in our NOTW were running about 90 minutes long for those who showed up at 7 a.m. How about in your neighborhood?

And now a word from (me about) our sponsors

Just so it's clear, I have nothing to do with what ads Google serves on this blog. So if you're reading this item on November 3 or November 4, and if there's a "Yes on Prop 8" ad over there underneath the escalator image, it's Google's fault.

While I'm at it: Vote for whoever you want for president. But if you're planning to vote yes on Prop 8, you can get off my blog right now. If you live in California, please, please, Please vote NO on Proposition 8.

I assume the ad will be gone after tomorrow and this blog will be a better place for it. When that happens, be sure to click on whatever ad is there so I can make some money off of this thing! On the other hand, if you click the Yes on 8 ad, maybe it'll cost those morons some money. Now there's a thought.

OK, so the plan is this: Click on the ad, but do not under any circumstances cast your vote for this unfair and discriminatory proposition.

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Miscellaneous Monday

In no particular order:

1) After a hiatus of two years or so - during which they probably missed me terribly - I am once again a Costco member. The most immediate result of this weekend development is that my mid-afternoon snack today is approximately one and three quarters pounds of delicious pineapple. Guess what my mid-afternoon snack tomorrow through Friday will be.

Since we don't have tons of storage space in our apartment, it's probably a tossup whether the annual membership fee is a great investment. The 30-pack of paper towels might save us lots of dough, but unless we start crating stuff on our porch, that's probably a little too much Bounty for the humble abode. But if my math is even close to correct, we should be able to make it worthwhile with what we save on gas (almost 25 cents per gallon cheaper at Costco right now, I think) and cat litter alone.

2) Speaking of cats, we took two of our three to the vet for vaccines and checkups Saturday. Is it just Sampson and Brearley or do all cats really freakin' hate getting into their carrying cases? I don't think they even care how deeeee-luxe these bags are - they want no part of it.

Unfortunately, we had to bring Brearley back to the vet this morning for a dental cleaning, which is kind of a production for kitties. So we weren't in the greatest mood while dropping her off and then the receptionist makes it worse by continually referring to our cat as "it," as in "Has it been to our office before?"

I'm no expert on animal hospital management, but I'd hazard a guess that one of the first rules they teach you in vet receptionist school is referring to the animals as "he" or "she." Maybe because pet people want vets and their employees to not make it seem as though they're taking care of inanimate objects.

3) In what must be a sign that I'm now a full-fledged resident of Greater Hollywood, while I was sleeping last night I dreamed up approximately half of an episode of Entourage. It wasn't the most original storyline - I think E cheated on his girlfriend but got caught - but the dialogue was pretty snappy. Maybe there’s something in the air (smog?) that makes people think teleplays.

4) So, you knew I'd get to t-shirt news at some point, right? Oh calm down. I'm not even talking about what's new at S and J Market.

No, I wanted to show you what arrived via UPS this morning. My very own Alaska for Obama t-shirt:

I ordered it a month ago, just minutes after the Palin-Biden debate, as my own mini protest against criminally inept vice presidential candidates. I guess lots of other people had the same idea because the shirt was backordered. But I think I'll wear it tonight when I get home and certainly tomorrow while we watch election coverage.

5) OK, never mind that stuff I wrote before about not boring you with more news from S and J Market. How could I let you go through the rest of your day without seeing our latest new design? Answer: I couldn't.

There's a suburb south of Chicago called Flossmoor. When I lived in the Big Windy, any time someone mentioned the place, I'd tell them I had a brilliant, t-shirt-worthy slogan that the town should use to drum up... I don't know, tourism? The point is: Until this weekend, that brilliant idea was just a t-shirt-worthy slogan. Now, it's actually on a t-shirt.

See for yourself:

Catchy, no? (Weird picture, though. I'm still trying to figure out what happened to this dude's head.) And it's printed on a high-quality American Apparel shirt - perfect for holiday giving! (On sale through tomorrow!)