The Gift That Keeps on Giving

Ya gotta luv Larry Craig. Now we hear he is giving the finger to all the Repubs who want him to resign and possibly withdrawing his offer to step down. Talk about keeping a story alive!

I was hoping that someone would attack me about Craig, citing Clinton/Lewinsky claiming harassment by the Minneapolis PD, invasion of privacy, that cops shouldn't be hanging out in airport crappers, or something. Anticipating such remarks, let me ask this:

If your nine-year-old son was taking a dump in a stall adjacent to Senator Craig, would you feel that the police have no place setting up stings in airport restrooms?

One of the things that just cracks me up about Craig is this tidbit from the police interview transcript (LC is Senator Larry Craig, DK is Minneapolis police Sgt. Dave Karsnia :

LC: Did I slide them too close to yours? Did I, I looked down once, your foot was close to mine.

DK Yes.

LC Did we bump? Ah, you said so, I don't recall that, but apparently we were close.

DK Yeah, well your foot did touch mine, on my side of the stall.

LC: All right.

DK: Okay. And then with the hand. Urn, how many times did you put your hand under the stall?

LC: I don't recall. I remember reaching down once. There was a piece of toilet paper back behind me and picking it up.

Here is the smoking gun that Craig is lying--do you honestly believe that anyone, and particularly a United States Senator, would pick up a piece of toilet paper from the floor of a international airport public restroom? Would you do it? A US Senator is someone who gets his ass licked constantly, has an enormous staff to clean up his physical and political messes, and is likely to be considered among the two or three hundred most arrogant people on planet Earth. So Larry was just doing a little tidying up in the shitter?

Yeah, and Saddam had weapons of mass destruction.

Hang in there Larry! Leno and Letterman and Stewart need you!

Say Hello to Dorothy

Hello, Dorothy!

Four-weeks-off Musings

First of all, the picture above is one of the reasons I live where I do--there is frequently drama of the natural kind. Late this afternoon the storm clouds were erupting over the mountains north of us and "threatening" us with the promise of much-needed rain. The low sun to the west lighted the dried grass against the darkening sky to the northeast and the long shadows pulled it all together. Mrs. Olaf was ahead of me and ahead of her was Dorothy, our newly rescued pooch, of more anon.

Second musing: Is it possible that the reason we have not had any terrorist attacks on the U.S. since 9/11 is that old adage, "Never get in the way of someone determined to destroy himself"? The PR overkill on this coming bogus report on Iraq and the predictable kneepad press response to it means more months and years of the quagmire, with war speculators continue to reap riches from the public coffers and the war criminals retiring into gated, taxpayer paid protected lives, the remainder of which will be spent circling among the remaining psychological bunker mates on how principled and strong they were to press this disaster on the world.

Third: A return to Berlin is imminent. I have been debating whether or not to take a laptop, because it would be fun to blog day-by day, posting pictures and perhaps even sounds of the city of my heart. On the other hand, a computer is a distraction from life, particularly on vacation. Not that that will keep me from dropping into an Internet cafe now and then. On yet another hand, having one's own laptop and an apartment high-speed connection would allow evening wrap-ups, at least on the evening when I wasn't drinking myself into oblivion and crawling kneipe to lokal around Kreuzberg.

Fourth: Would all of the gay closeted Republican gay-bashers please out themselves? Nobody but the nuttiest nuts gives a shit how you get your rocks off, just so long as we can take a shit in an airport restroom in peace. Keep sex and religion where they should be--private and personal. Boning in public restrooms is, not to mention the hygienic aspects, rather pathetic. By being openly gay you're going to score a hell of a lot more than by cruising, unless, that is, you like getting disciplined by policemen. In that case, tap on, dudes!

Fifth: Katarina Witt, if you are reading this, I hope I run into you again on the Oranienburgerstrasse and don't lose my nerve to approach and tell you how amazing your Winter Olympics performances in Sarajevo and Calgary were--absolutely transformative. And, now that I have finished Gunter Grass' recent book Peeling the Onion, I suppose understand the context in which you became a Stasi informant. That's a pretty heartbreaking thing to learn about a woman I love. I still hope you're hangin' in Mitte.

Sixth: Dorothy just came through her dog door into the house, reminding me to mention her. She's a two-year-old mutt, spent over a year in a no-kill shelter (those people are saints), and has revealed herself to be a true sweetie and a damned good dog. She barks very, very rarely, can be walked off-leash thanks to an instant response to commands, and is the quickest learner of any dog I've been a pal to. Our eyes still mist up thinking about dear old Daisy, but she went to her greater reward after a long, full life, and I think she would have approved.

Yes, dogs are definitely a weakness for me, which Mrs. Olaf knew back in early May when she tricked me into going to the "Adopt-a-thon" at a local park. Once I walked Dorothy around the park, it was all over for me.

Anyway, I'll post a picture later, or sometime tomorrow. As my only reader, I'll be thrilled to see it.

Adieu for the nonce.