Dried Nutmeg

We haven't gotten significant rainfall around here in a long, long time.

Here's some statistical proof. And some more.

The current rainfall for September in North Stepford Falls? 0.44 inches.

The monthly historical average for the month? 4.80 inches.

Funny, when we moved here five years ago, our first fall was marked by seven straight days of rain that wound up flooding the basement and having to call the North Stepford Falls Volunteer FD to pump the water out.

The front yard doesn't look completely brown ... not yet at least. The ground's pretty dry, though. The ground where we live is pretty sandy, which is great when it gets enough water. Too much or too little, not so good. Too much and it drains too slowly and it floods. Too little ... well it looks like it does now.

Meanwhile, despite the fact UConn is on a Stage II Drought Watch, the neighbors' sprinklers click on every day, keeping their lawn lush and green -- and this is not to single them out, because they're hardly alone in that regard.

Does this make me want sprinklers? No.

The lawn care industry is a multi-billion dollar industry. But stop and think about that for a minute: How much water, fertilizer and labor is spent on a cash crop that only animals with hooves can eat?

Not wishing for a hurricane, but some rain would be nice.

Good thing climate change is a myth, eh?

News tidbits from the Conn. 5th District, Volume 1

So Republican challenger Sam Caliguri wants 41 debates in 41 towns with the incumbent, Chris Murphy.

This is crazy. But not for the reasons you think I think it's crazy.

If an alien from another planet -- say, Massachusetts? -- visited the district, he or she would think Sam Caliguri is the incumbent and running unopposed.

Chris Murphy might be the second-term incumbent but right now he might as well be in hiding. I have not seen a bumper sticker, a lawn sign, a canvasser, a TV ad (though apparently one just started airing), and certainly not the Congressman.

All I have seen are Sam's signs, and plenty of them. Sam's people came through the neighborhood during the primary. Sam beat two GOP opponents to get here. He's got momentum and a ground game and as any football fan will tell you, those things make for a tough playoff contender come late fall.

As for said Murphy TV ad, I'm not impressed. Heck, Bllly Mays runs TV ads. And he's been dead for a year.

So why extend Murph 41 shots at free publicity? Why would you give a guy who beat Nancy Johnson -- when she was an 11-term incumbent -- an easy way to win points off you in every town in the district? Why not make him spend some of that million-dollar war chest?

You voted how you voted, Murph; if you want to go back to DC in January, you need to get out there and stand behind it, and firmly. Waiting until the fall and running ads showing you riding your bike isn't going to make all that anger go away.

So no, Sam, 41 debates, one for every town in the 5th, are a Very Bad Idea. Keep doing what you're doing and let people forget that your party caused the recession. It seems to be working.

something to remember

Noticing a lot of people remembering Sept. 11 today.

I've been spending the last nine years trying to forget it. Not the folks who were murdered, mind you -- they are much remembered. I'd prefer to forget the horror of the day (I saw the whole damned thing from my desk at AP) and the anxiety and paranoia and war that followed.

But this year, for some reason, some really hateful people really seem to be trying to use the memory of that day to divide us as a nation for their own political agenda rather than solemnize it as an honest day of remembrance.

Now I'm about to touch the third rail of religion, so if you don't care what I honestly believe, I'm not going to make you read it and this is a good place for you to stop.

If you're still with me...

To those folks who would use today to divide us: If we really want to make this divided country whole again and a better place to live, then we need a whole lot less Sept. 11 as a war cry and a whole lot more Luke 6:27 and Matthew 5:44.

Poll Position

The phone rang.

It was that number again: "Out of Area/No Data."

They'd been calling for a week. And I was sick of it. So I finally answered, ready to inform the telemarketer on the other line that I'm on the do not call registry and the secretary of state's going to hear about this, friend.

But the nice Southern lady on the other end of the line explained she was conducting some polling research and wanted just a few minutes of my time, are you a likely voter? Hey, what the heck, why not, I thought. This could be fun.

It wasn't painful. But it wasn't the Quinnipiac poll or the AP, either.

She said she was from a firm whose name I do not recall, but I'm pretty sure they're Republican pollsters. Though I figured that part out without the assistance of the Interweb, given the content of the questions. Not the South part; could have been Bangalore for all I know.

The topic was the governor's race here in the Nutmeg State. While my friendly Southern pollster didn't bash the Democrat, Daniel Malloy, she pumped up the GOP nominee, Tom Foley, in the phrasing of several questions -- i.e. "...or do you want someone like Tom Foley who's a political outsider who knows how to create jobs and will take on the special interests in Hartford?"

(On a side note, when I think of special interests in Hartford, I think of wealthy white guys and corporations seeking tax breaks rather than public employee unions. But that's the great thing about special interests -- it's not just a loaded phrase, it's more versatile than a KitchenAid. You never have to identify them, and as if by magic, whatever you're against, they're for!)

Now, Foley took some bruising in the GOP primary -- past criminal charges against him, allegations he outsourced jobs and ruined a Georgia textile mill town as a venture capitalist, rumors he once yelled at a puppy and doesn't like Jim Croce or Jimmy Buffett -- and my friendly Southern pollster asked me about all those things and whether I believed his opponents or I believed his explanations.

So what did I do with those batting-practice fastballs?

A): "He's a downsizing SOB and he's so slimy, slugs pour salt on him."
B): "Just because he got security clearance to be ambassador to Ireland doesn't mean he didn't allegedly use his car as a weapon."
C): "I'm aware of those accusations, but I'm going to investigate for myself and make up my own mind."

If you answered A or B, you know me well ... and you're WRONG! Yes, I answered C.

Now why would a decent, fair-minded, God-fearing progressive like me do a thing like that? The explanations were lame! Why would I take those pitches for strikes?

Well, for starters, it's true. I'll do the research and make up my own mind. Not that he's likely to get my vote, but if you believe claims made by political ads, I've got some nice swampland in Florida that may interest you.

Then, there's this: I once had to make cold calls, when I was working a temp job before my first paying gig in the Eastern Liberal Media Conspiracy. (In that case, working for a fan of Richard Nixon, "Liberal" didn't apply quite so much. Though Nixon did impose price controls! You could look it up.) That temp job was no rock and roll fun. And so I've been there and I figured this lady was A) reading from the script and B) probably making minimum wage with no sick time or health care benefits and C) didn't need my attitude.

So I just gave my answers. They were disappointing enough, I'm certain. And hey, there's always the inevitable Linda McMahon push poll.

But that leads me to the larger topic of any political operation using tricks widely esteemed to be dirty.

I've long had a strong hunch that a Democratic congressman, whom I won't name because I can't even begin to prove this, ran a fake Republican push poll late in a close race - and not just any push poll, but a really aggressive one targeting senior citizens! - so he could blame the GOP candidate for dirty tricks. He won.

Having finally been the recipient of a push poll, I think it's sort of like listening to cult recruiters, or what I have oft imagined cult recruiters would be like, albeit in this case without the pamphlets or wearing a Snuggie. (Think the cover of Fire Of Unknown Origin.) They stick to the script, building up their charming visionary sociopath and conveniently excusing any flaws or doubts. If you listen with both ears, it's plainly evident what's going on and you ignore it, or tell 'em to take a hike. But if you don't and you hear enough of it and you're on the fence -- or worse, hear what you want to hear -- you potentially fall in line with the program(ing).

I've always wondered what it would be like to run a campaign or to be a candidate. I wonder if I'd do something like that. It's easy to sit on the sidelines and say "oh no, of course not, that's dastardly and scummy."

But I know this about candidates for public office -- they get a bad case of tunnel vision. So when the pressure gets turned up and the party consultants tell you "this is how it's done in the big time, don't ask questions" and you want to win, after all, and the polls say you're behind and the other candidate just annoys the heck out of you -- well I suppose it becomes easier to do things of which you're not proud. It's probably even been done by politicians you like as well as the ones you dislike. (And it's one or the other these days. Who knew Eddie Vedder was a prophet when he caterwauled "There ain't gonna be any middle any more"?)

In sports, where I spend most of my time, there's cliches about preferring losing with class to winning with dishonor. When it's the team you don't like that's caught cheating, this is an easy position to take; sometimes, if they're really, really good then you can speculate out of thin air that they must be cheating (as many NASCAR fans claimed when Ray Evernham was Jeff Gordon's crew chief and no one could beat him).

But when it's your team -- Patriots fans, you might be familiar with this one -- that gets caught with its hand in the cookie jar, it's not as easy to stick with the high ground. "Everyone was doing it." Or "It's not a big deal, it didn't give them an unfair advantage," or "It's a witch hunt!"

As the song goes, "You just want to be on the side that's winning."

I'd like to think candidates -- any candidates, mind you, donkeys and elephants inclusive -- could run on their records, the issues and their vision for the future. And if they did any of those things, then tactics that set apart your record from the opponents are just slightly less onerous.

But when all anyone's got anymore is platitudes, empty suits and buzzwords, it just comes off as another come-on.

So yes, I would have preferred a telemarketer. At least it's clear from "hello" that they're trying to sell me something I don't want to buy.

Excerpts: "Porch" by Pearl Jam; "Positively 4th Street." by Bob Dylan.