I know I’ve spent most days in recent weeks opening with a whine about how much work I have to do and how I shouldn’t be wasting time blogging, and today? Today will be no different. Maybe I should just put it on a user key. For now, accept a macro:
In my defense, there is much to do and much to cover of late. The big news here is the Twilight of the Dealerships, and as you might expect, the Reaper is not sparing us. Go ahead and scoff, but what’s happening here is…well, it’s very bleak. Families who have been in business selling cars for decades are going to be stepping off a cliff in just a few weeks. History is so much less alarming when you’re watching it on television. Living through it can be a real bitch.
But hey, the Red Wings won last night. There’s always that.
So let’s go bloggage-plundering, shall we?
As you might expect, Obama killed at ASU yesterday. Here’s a YouTube link to the first part of his speech. You only need to get through 4:00 and change to hear the joke that cuts the legs off their stupid diploma-mill pretentiousness. Of course, the Daily Show was funnier, and meaner.
And then there was this, waiting for him at home. Sasha is my favorite Obama.
Brian wants you all to read this very nice profile of Robert Gates, from the WashPost. A taste:
In a small building next to the tarmac, an officer briefed the defense secretary on the four deceased troops arriving that evening. They had been driving along a rutted road near Jalalabad, Afghanistan, when their Humvee hit a powerful roadside bomb.
Gates flashed with anger, according to people with him that day. He had spent most of his tenure in the Pentagon pushing to replace Humvees in Afghanistan and Iraq with Mine Resistant Ambush Protected (MRAP) vehicles, built to withstand such blasts. “Find out why they hadn’t gotten their goddamn MRAPs yet,” he snapped at his staff.
Clad in the black suit he had worn to work that morning in the Pentagon, Gates climbed into the cargo hold of the white 747 bearing the remains. From the ground, troops could see the defense secretary as he knelt, alone, by the flag-draped transfer cases. Five minutes passed.
Prayer is private (or should be). But I’d love to know what he said to God. (I bet it wasn’t, “Sorry for the blasphemy.”)
Funny story about what happens when police respond to a report of a black panther crouching menacingly in a culvert. They draw their Tasers! They approach! They fire! And then…well, I hope they laughed.
And now I see the morning is waning and I still have too much crap to do. Be good, and we’ll try for a little more calm next week.