Roth's Birthday, March Madness, and Iraq, Ten Years After a Big Mistake

I skied for the first time this season yesterday, a beautiful snow-grabbing, low-skid, sunny and not too windy day at Copper, went directly to my son's end of the season hockey banquet afterwards, drank a couple pints of Guinness, came home and popped two Advil PMs (not wanting to be too sore for karate at noon today), woke up at 6:00 AM, still in that soporific Advil PM stupor, made coffee and got to the 5th Grade Graduation meeting at the school at 7:30. There are over 100 kids in the fifth grade and there were about ten people at the meeting, about half of whom were teachers. I asked a couple of questions during the meeting and found out quickly that even after a cup of coffee my head and mouth weren't working well together yet. I was still in my Advil PM stupor. On the other hand, my ear isn't ringing so badly today ... not yet, at least.

It's Philip Roth's birthday to today. There's a video of him being interviewed, then reading a short, depressing passage from The Dying Animal, on PBS. This was picked up by The Daily Beast, a news outlet I follow on Twitter (something I do in lieu of reading a daily newspaper, so I don't feel so fucking old). A lot of people find Roth's obsession and utter lack of sentimentality with getting older/old to be depressing. And I suppose it is. But I prefer it over being lied to. There's too much in our society that smacks of adults trying to compensate for having their illusions shattered when they discovered that Santa didn't actually bring the toys on Christmas Eve, that the Tooth Fairy didn't actually put the money under the pillow. The list goes on. It is said that we need these comforts, but I much prefer the comfort of looking to another human being and saying, What a fucking load of shit, and having them smile ironically and nod. I prefer that over someone telling me that everything happens for a reason (Yeah? And what might that reason be?), that God doesn't give us anything we can't handle (thus the set up for their fellow human beings to judge them, when it turns out they can't quite handle what God has given them, be it a ride in a train car to Auschwitz, seeing their baby tossed in the air and impaled on the end of a bayonet, not having any legs anymore due to a decision made ten years ago by a guy—several of them, actually, who dodged their opportunity to shoot and get shot at when the stupid war being fought at the time was in Vietnam—who is in Texas now, peacefully painting pictures of his dog while the Secret Service keeps watch, while the VA stays busy).

Ahhhh, but we don't need to hear a lot of glowering despairing vitriole on this fine morning, do we? It's the lingering effects of the Advil PM. Luckily, I have karate in an hour. I'll feel better after karate. I generally do. Ten years ago I was in Kauai with my family. I went there depressed, I came back depressed. I left saying, "They're going to invade Iraq while we're gone, and it'll be over before we get back. Still, it's going to be a disaster ... " Bill Clinton had been on Letterman a few days earlier. He said he'd be amazed if the military operation took more than six days. I figured it would take maybe three or four. That all the worry about that piece was a joke. I'd been meeting with a friend on Fridays and he and I would talk about it over a beer. Despite the revisionist talk that no one could have known the mess that was to come from this, there were countless articles written on why invading Iraq was a very bad idea. My friend and I both lamented ... that while the invading part would be quick, the occupation would be problematic. Insurgents coming out of the woodwork, that sort of thing. It seemed obvious to us, and we weren't geniuses. We weren't even wonks. Still, after the quick success of Desert Storm in 1991, not many Democrats, particularly the ones hoping to become president in 2004, wanted to look soft on war. And so, helping out a bunch of neocon nuts, at least three of whom were previous draft dodgers, were the future Democratic hopefuls: Hillary Clinton, John Kerry, and of course the charismatic populist with the big house and perfect hair John Edwards. This after a big tax cut two years earlier that no one of consequence really fought, after we'd briefly had a surplus in our fiscal year budget. Apparently no one saw the expense coming, starting in 2011, of retiring the Baby Boom Generation. No, this was an opportunity, rather, to starve the beast, to give everyone a three hundred dollar check.

And now we're bankrupt. (Craig, Craig, you're so negative. You shouldn't take Advil PM. Have you looked into Zoloft? Zoloft happens for a reason. It's what God has given us, along with a lot of other options, more options than breakfast cereal, really, to get through what he has given us. And thanks to the Bush-Era prescription drug plan that came on the heels of a tax cut and two wars and the TSA getting created to keep us safe of planes and still allow us pocket knives and matches, you'll be able to stay smiling well into your Golden Years, for pennies on the dollar, starting when you're 65, which isn't that far away for you anymore ... Can you hear this? Or is your ear still ringing?)

You thought when I said March Madness, that I was talking about college basketball, yes? Well, not entirely as it turns out.

Obama's going with Indiana over Louisville. I saw that on Twitter, too. I saw on FaceBook that the new Pope Francis has Georgetown, Gonzaga, Creighton, and one other one ... maybe Seton Hall (they're always in there, right) in his Top Four. Big money on it, I'm told. I like this guy already. And (this is no shit, I'm told), he can tango. The man used to dance when he was younger. I heard this at the hockey banquet last night, from a tango aficionado. John the 23rd brought native languages to the Mass; perhaps Francis will bring the tango.

Don't get me started on all this fuss over Nancy and Joe taking communion. I'm more concerned about the pederasts taking communion (Everything happens for a reason, my child, some things again and again ... God doesn't give us anything we can't handle, and if you breathe a word to anyone about any of this, I will deny it, and they will think you are crazy, and that I am right ... One day I will pray for you, that you will overcome your bitterness, I will pray that you, my accuser, my cross to bear, will be forgiven ... ).

Be careful with that Advil PM. It's not what the times call for, I fear ...

Get thee to karate!!

Have a nice day!