Anna's Bloviations

As the Irish would say, "I'm stoofed!" You know. Turkey, stuffing, trimmings, and the like. Not that I'm Irish, I just love their accent. Like the guy I overheard on the streets of Dublin talking into his cellphone: "If I doon't get me' fooking mooney, I'm fooked." That's just great.

Did I tell you that the son came home for Thanksgiving with a black eye? This following the daughter's recent black eye. No Xmas photos this year I guess. The son got his vis-à-vis a sucker punch after he told a guy to lay off teasing his buddy. Don’t worry. True to the legacy of his maternal grandfather (a legendary bar brawler), the son knocked the other kid out. Also of note: the distance between D.C. and home does not prevent the son from transporting an entire suitcase full of wretchedly disgusting dirty laundry to wash here. A visit by hubby to son's dorm a few weeks ago only further confirmed the slovenly living conditions he and his dorm mate seem perfectly happy to live in. But I digress. The son is doing great.

The challenge I issued below to my conservative friends? To read Michael Moore's "Dude Where's my Country?" whereby I would read any book of their choosing. OK here's one response I got:

Dear Anna Bloviations:
Thanks, but no thanks. The limited reading time I have is not going to
>be spent reading stuff written by wackos. There are plenty of other
>books I need to read before I waste my time on this one. This is the
>same reason I didn't read Mein Kampf. Both are low on the priority
>list. Tell Mr. Moore, it's my country too.

Dear Mr. Conservative Electronic Acquaintance:

Had a few more people bothered to read Mein Kamph at the appropriate time, who knows, they might have hindered Hitler's slaughter of millions...

I do hope that you are not lumping whacko Hitler with 'whacko' Moore. 'Cause it works the other way too; had more people listened to Jesus or Ghandi (both of whom were labeled whackos at some point in their careers), we might not be bashing each other's heads in the way we are today. Have you read anything by Moore? Seen any of his movies? Watched him on CSPAN? Or are you judging him based entirely on his inappropriate comments at the Oscars (he admonishes himself in his book about that too). If all of the above is true then HOW CAN YOU CALL HIM A WHACKO other than it conveniently and neatly justifies your not having to deal with him on any kind of level? At least watch Bowling for Columbine. Otherwise I must seriously (as opposed to half jokingly) challenge your assertion that you are a 'free thinker.' You cannot be a free thinker (a concept that denotes a certain open-mindedness) if you only confine yourself to a reality that does nothing but reaffirm what you already perceive as true.

No wonder this country is so polarized. Each 'side' just keeps indoctrinating itself with the same reaffirming shit. Don't believe me? From Amazon:

Customers who bought Ann Coulter's Treason: Liberal Treachery from the Cold War to the War on Terrorism also bought:
Slander: Liberal Lies About the American Right (Thorndike Press Large Print Nonfiction Series) [LARGE PRINT] by Ann H. Coulter (Hardcover)
Useful Idiots: How Liberals Got It Wrong in the Cold War and Still Blame America First by Mona Charen (Hardcover)
Dereliction of Duty: The Eyewitness Account of How Bill Clinton Endangered America's Long-Term National Security by Robert Patterson (Hardcover)
Off with Their Heads : Traitors, Crooks & Obstructionists in American Politics, Media & Business by Dick Morris (Author) (Hardcover)
Shut Up and Sing: How Elites from Hollywood, Politics, and the UN are Subverting America by Laura Ingraham (Hardcover)

Customers who bought Michael Moore's Dude Where's My Country also bought:

Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them: A Fair and Balanced Look at the Right by Al Franken (Hardcover)
Bushwhacked : Life in George W. Bush's America by Molly Ivins (Author), Lou Dubose (Author) (Hardcover)
Thieves in High Places: They've Stolen Our Country--And Its Time to Take It Back by Jim Hightower (Hardcover)
The Great Unraveling: Losing Our Way in the New Century by Paul Krugman (Hardcover)
Big Lies: The Right-Wing Propaganda Machine and How It Distorts the Truth by Joe Conason (Author) (Hardcover)

Heh, I can at least say I took the trouble to read Ann Coulter. An extreme sacrifice on my part. Because I much prefer fiction to reading talking heads. John Irving and Salman Rushdie are my favorite contemporary writers. Michael Moore was dropped in my lap over vacation. There were some things he said that I thought were quite enlightening and which I thought you might find enlightening too... But obviously you are reserving your time for people you deem non-whackos. Yep, that's free-thinking all right...

BTW: I would LOVE to know the books you have on your list to read that would prevent you the couple of hours it would take you to read one of Moore's book.

Sincerely,
Anna Bloviations

GO TO JAMAICA IN NOVEMBER MY FRIENDS I hate to make you jealous but I just got back from Jamaica for a five day get-away with hubby to celebrate his 50th birthday!!! Six gorgeous Jamaican waiters came out to sing Happy Birthday off-key Sunday evening. I've decided that Jamaicans get the award for world's most friendliest people. And they are damn attractive to boot. Ebony black skin, a pearly white smile that kills, manners, a sense of humor, and good god I even admitted to my husband after one too many pina coladas that these were indeed VERY attractive people.

Anyway Jamaica is the place to go in November. Perfect temperatures (75-80 degree Fahrenheit), GREAT deals (who travels two days before Thanksgiving?), no people (meaning you get the 50 extra unoccupied staff people all to yourself*). Check out the Half Moon resort in Montiego Bay. It is a five-star resort and during the high season they are outrageously expensive but in November they are the place to go: gorgeous beach, good food (all inclusive with drinks), Swedish massage (included), bike rides (included), tennis (included), and horseback riding (included).

Whilst there, I read Michael Moore's "Dude Where's my Country?"

I issue a challenge to my conservative friends. Read this book (and submit a short book review to prove you read it) and I will read any book of your choosing. It's all about enlightenment, right?

Anna

* Spend five days in Jamaica during the off-season and you can kind of understand why the British were so reluctant to give up their hold on colonialism. Damn it's nice to have polite, well-educated, friendly, smiling people wait on you hand and foot for nothing...(i.e. the Jamaicans make nothing; the resort owners make everything).

Gone to Jamaica. Be back soon.

WHAT NEXT. DUCT TAPE?? In a NY Times Op-Ed contribution today, Oliver Morton worries about melting ice on the summit of Kilimanjaro. It could be barren dirt before the next decade is out.

He suggests art might come to the rescue. Enter Christo and his wife and partner, Jeanne-Claude -- best known for draping landscapes in beautiful fabric e.g. , "Running Fence" in 1976 and The Wrapped Reichstag . Acting as consultants, they could choreograph an airdrop of a couple hundred thousand square yards of fabric down to a couple hundred waiting volunteers who would be standing ready to swathe the Tanzanian cliffs in white polypropylene fabric . The sunlight would bounce off the surface to keep the ice below cool.

"The rest of the preservation effort might just consist of a few snow machines to keep the top surface fresh and white in the months when no snow falls," suggests Morton. Further he adds, "It would be a work of art in itself. Done properly, it would be a preservation of beauty that is itself, beautiful."

At the rate we're going, Kilimanjaro will be the least of our worries. Which is why I think I am going to start buying stock in duct tape -- America's tried-and-true, inexpensive fix for anything broken. As a shareholder I am also going to suggest to the chairman that they expand their color line (currently at 12) to include colors like Ice Berg Patch Arctic White, Summer Sky Ozone Blue, Beach Erosion Tan, and Deforestation Green.

Meanwhile my conservative friends continue to pooh-pooh my nay-saying criticisms as unsubstantiated liberal alarmist rubbish. SHOW US THE SCIENCE -- the CONCLUSIVE evidence, they gloat superiorly. Uh huh. I know where some of that duct tape is going to be used...

I could have never been a good social worker. Or therapist. I get calls from constituents sometimes and it's all I can do to not scream out at them to get their f****** act together and get with the program! These are people with no education, no job prospects, no homes, drug addictions, dysfunctional families, disabilities, and a lot of bad luck. There is one guy who has lost four jobs in three months. He needs to work 10 hours a week in order to qualify for MassHealth -- which is what he needs to be entitled to the meds THAT HE DESPERATELY NEEDS. Every time there is a kink in the road he calls his Representative for help. We have helped him a lot. My colleague is still very patient with him but I just can't do it anymore. Take your meds and get your shit together!

But this is an unreasonable stance. A lot of these people are in a dark place that many of us may have touched a few times in our lives, but we have always come back out again to the light of hope. I know I have been to that dark place. And when you are there you really don't see any way out of the dark. But suddenly there is a family member or friend who helps pull you out. A job lands in your lap. A mainstreamness about you lands you back on your feet. But these people don't seem to land back on their feet. They just lurch from one catastrophe to the next. There is one sixty-nine-year-old woman who calls me almost every day. She was abused as a child. She has disabilities. She is lonely. She is fiercely religious. She can't afford the $14 per month co-pay increase that her basic insurance wants her to pay now. She cries. And she forgave her father before he died for beating the holy shit out of her and her mother when she was growing up. She stays in the town she lives because she loves the people who helped her: the police and the church. There is another woman who moved to a campsite with her foster son because she couldn't afford housing anywhere.

A report just came from the University of Massachusetts that one in three children goes hungry in the city I work to represent. Right next to that city is the town in which I live -- a yachting affluent community to the hilt. Can somebody spare a billion...

My electronic conservative buddies have been putting up a fierce battle of late. It turns out if you get too under their skin they go and get personal on you i.e. I was called a clinical delusionist prone to ranting, pouting meanderings. One insinuated I couldn't be taken seriously because I like chocolate [I guess if you love chocolate you can't think straight...].

Today I feel much better. But the night before last I admit I was feeling pretty whipped. Bleeding, bruised, and contemplating the futility of trying to change the world I was. But I think I'm finally beginning to figure out the conservative battle strategy. When things start getting a little uncomfortable , they start accusing you of rambling [a loaded verb they throw out to peg liberals as illogically-thinking subject-matter lightweights]. Then they authoritatively reprimand you to stay 'issue-specific' and 'science-grounded.' Yeah right. So long as it stays within the purview of THEIR issue-specific, science-grounded world-view. Example: One (who calls himself a free-thinker, not a conservative) reprimanded me for boring tirades against Bush, Arnold and god knows what, but lets his conservative buddy off scott-free to ramble French-bashing diatribes out the ying yang.

In frustration I sent a letter to God -- God being my friend who included me on his distribution list and thus indirectly introduced me to these two knuckle-heads (on my own blow page I'm allowed to get personal):

Dear God,
I used to live in paradise -- your paradise. I frolicked in the deranged and eclectic mix of thought-provoking and profane enlightenments you sent my way via email. I saw that there were others who also enjoyed your graces and I wondered who they were but I kept my distance because you had decreed unto me: "DO NOT TALK TO THEM."

Mere mortal that I am I have sinned.... In spite of your warnings, I disobeyed you. I could not keep my mouth shut and hit 'REPLY TO ALL' following one of Mr. X's blasphemies. I think you know the rest. There have been too, too many responses since then -- all vainglorious posturing (by everybody).

I am a fallen angel. I neglect my dog and have been driven to drink. I can see now that it was vanity and arrogance that made me think that I, a mere fucked-up mortal, could change anybody already set in their ways. Just as I am set in mine.

I have erred. And apparently I have ranted and meandered (you couldn't wound a wanna-be writer more deeply by saying that they rant and meander, but such is my lot). Please God. Help me out of this spiraling ideological morass -- this microcosm of the U.S at large -- this I-have-to-get-the-last-word bickering, this war of the sexes.

I repent. Forgive me. Ban me from paradise if that is what you think I deserve. Or make me say one-hundred agnostic hail-mary's. You were right. I was wrong. I promise I will write on a chalk board, "I should have listened to you... everything you said was true... Bad Anna, bad Anna, bad Anna...

Anna Bloviations

P.S. But remember that I am mortal and will likely sin again.

Dear Anna Bloviations:

I am truly sorry you had to learn the hard way. Trying to reason with a conservative is like trying to explain the theory of relativity to a three year old - it is impossible.

Sincerely,
God

There is a private beach along one stretch of my dog walk. For the many years I have been walking past it, the owners across the road have been fighting to keep ANYBODY and EVERYBODY off of it. Nor'Eastern storms have turned their Keep-Out fence into a heap of toothpicks time and time again, but they have simply gone and built another. Every few feet they have a sign posted: PRIVATE PROPERTY. KEEP OUT. I mean it's a nice beach and all but I have to say it's not that nice for all their fuss.

They nearly had a fit one year when the town decided to allow 2-hour, street-side parking along side their beach so that visitors could get to the public beach right next to it. The owners claimed all kinds of calamitous outcomes. Their biggest beef was that the road would be too narrow for cars to get by if parking were allowed. When that argument didn't fly they tried the heartstring approach i.e. mothers wouldn't be able to fit their SUV strollers onto the sidewalk and would instead have to go out onto the street to get around the parked cars.... You still with me?

The town lost patience and said that if they kept complaining, they would simply make the road wider given that the frontal property of most of the houses along the beach had over the years encroached on the town road.

All of the owner's efforts do little to actually keep people off the beach per se. Tourists can't resist it. The beach affords a very nice view of the Boston skyline and signs or no signs, the tourists want a picture. Honestly I don't even think they see the no trespassing signs. Lovers like the beach; the two love-hump rocks are perfect for picnicking, necking, and catching a sunset. Fishermen are attracted as well but I don't know the first thing about fishing so I'm not exactly sure why this beach is so good compared to others in the area.

But now the owners have done something very smart indeed in their ongoing efforts to keep trespassers off. As I walked by this morning, there on the beach were four brand new signs equidistant apart. Instead of black and white they were green and white. The text read:

PLEASE KEEP OFF -- ENVIRONMENTALLY SENSITIVE AREA I'll let you know when the weather warms up if this does the trick. My bet is it will...

Hip-Hop Rhyme Both my kids love Hip-Hop and rap. I was listening to a track the other day. A catchy tune actually but I had to laugh as the singers managed to rhyme 'birthday' and 'thirsty':

It be your bert-day
And we be drinkin' champagne
'cause we're thirs-tay.

Not bad. Not bad.

STOCK WATCH -- A friend of mine was just sent these two stock recommendations from a list of highly rated stocks:

* Inamed Corp. (IMDC). The company is a leading maker of products used for plastic and reconstructive surgery and the *treatment of obesity*. A catalyst for the shares would be FDA approval of its silicone gel-filled breast augmentation implant by early 2004, which S&P estimates could boost annual revenues by $100 million.

* Capital One Financial (COF). S&P believes that this leading credit-card issuer is capable of boosting earnings approximately 20% annually over the next several years. Driving these gains are expected 'favorable consumer spending patterns' and an expanding customer base.

Both received 5 STARS on the S&P scale. Said my friend, "I love it. Overspending, gluttony, and vanity driving the US economy. Kind of like going around breaking windows to make work for the glass industry."

Touche my friend. And in case you're wondering what all that overspending on vanity will get you? Boobs -- Lips -- Face I think I'll stick to my Estee Lauder face cream.... I also think that things need to start picking up* in the Legislature because obviously Anna has way too much time on her hands...


*Wednesday promises to be interesting i.e. a joint session debating same-sex marriage.

Of all the things I could have said last night, I said, "How refreshing. To find someone on a different clock." From her perspective I guess, the same could have been said of me.

We met by chance at ten. Two strangers bathing beneath a floodlight of near full moon. No wind. Which is why around us we could hear the local high school football game from two miles away. Boom, boom, boom, boom, bu-bu-bu-bu ba-Boom. The alto cheers swirled around us as well. "It's so light out," said the pretty woman about my age. "I thought it would be a good time." With a shovel that came up to her shoulder, she was digging out the last of the shriveled summer flowers from a town-owned traffic island meant to slow cars down before they merge onto the causeway crossing the harbor. "Yes," I said. There were many questions I wanted to ask her but my dog pulled and we were gone. To the moonlit soaked beach. Not a soul on it. As usual.

The acoustics played tricks and sometimes it sounded as if the cheerleaders were cheering from somewhere out on the silvery glass surface of the ocean. And then the ocean became a vast kettle drum beating the local team to victory. The drum is my favorite instrument for its ability to reach down inside and yank me inside-out of inhibition every time. A couple of glasses of wine with friends beforehand helps too of course. I glanced around to make absolutely sure I was alone and then began to dance as I walked on the rocks. The crunch of my footsteps added rhythmic accompaniment as my dog chased the flat waves rolling up on shore to tease her. Boom, boom, boom, boom, bu-bu-bu-bu BA-BOOM.

My weekend sleep is deep and good and this morning I rise slowly to consciousness to find myself in a limb-jutting helter-skelter Picasso pose. I am met by a mass of tousled blond curls in the hallway underneath which is a face both pillow-creased and puffy. The remnant of daughter's black eye nods good morning. That image is a hell of a lot better than my forty-something reflection in the bathroom mirror. The morning puffiness on daughter gives her a little girl look. On me it only accentuates the two vertical lines (which out of nowhere have suddenly appeared between my brows), and the crinkles around my eyes. It will take a few cups of coffee and the application of Estee Lauder light-reflecting-anti-oxidant-wrinkle-reducing-cream to bring my face back to a smoother visage. My short hair sticks up in gravity-defying geometric shapes which sometimes make me look punky and other times just make me look like a dork -- particularly if all of the geometric shapes are favoring just one side of my head.

The internet is painfully slow this morning and the computer moody. Which was to be expected with hubby a.k.a. IT Boy gone for two weeks. He now stays in a beautiful apartment in London when called to work across the pond. I have not seen it yet. Had I had half a brain I would have bought a $150 Expedia ticket this weekend and hopped on a plane for a visit. I forgot, namely, that Tuesday is Veteran's Day -- which makes Monday a perfect day to call in sick because of it. Instead I am looking out my office window at home to the naked dogwood tree in the garden. The biggest crow I have ever seen is tightrope walking along the uppermost branches in his efforts to get the last few berries the squirrels have missed. The thin elastic branches are bending under his weight and I wonder if he is having fun bouncing up and down.

I would like to stay home all day and read but there is water in the trunk of the daughter's car again. I suspect the rear window is the culprit. Daughter isn't too happy that her morning will be spent waiting at an auto glass place (as if that's where I want to spend my Saturday morning... ). She wants all of the perks that adulthood brings but is still dragging her feet on the responsibility those perks bring with it. It is a good morning though because she sees the master in action. I put on my auburn brown suede jacket that matches the color of my eyes, unfurl my silken and now caffeinated tongue, and we are off. "Hello Mr. X. I don't know if you remember me -- I was in about two years ago when our rear window got smashed. We've been noticing a lot of water in the trunk and.... [the story is masterfully and patiently woven: using just the right tension, I warp the colored threads into the finished tapestry]....." I look over once to daughter. "See what you can do?"

An hour later the car is fixed. No charge. As I watch the daughter get into the car, a gust of wind rustles her sunlit curls. It occurs to me that the owner and the mechanics may have just been so enchanted by the tousled golden princess who stood next to me in the shop that they forgot to charge us....

“You know you love it. You want us on that wall; you need us on that wall . . .”

No, Anna hasn’t been spending her evenings in kinky cyber chat rooms. Anna spent an evening in the cyber trenches fulfilling her above-mentioned mission statement to save the world’s inhabitants!

I could give you the whole email trail but god it’s all so complex. Suffice to say it’s been a bloody battle made all the more tricky because these two that I am trying to BRING TO THE LIGHT are not only conservatives but lawyers as well. But I think I’ve made a tiny bit of headway. To the transplanted Californian not at all perturbed by the fact that the Terminator is Governor of California (to his credit he didn’t vote for him, opting instead for one of the other 135 candidates...):

Dear Mr. X,

"I hate to break this to you, but the Terminator doesn't really exist.... He is a fictitious character projected up onto a big cinematic screen. The qualities and powers everyone thinks he possesses were created by a highly-paid Hollywood screenplay writer. He really CAN'T put out fires with his bare hands..."

Regards,
Anna Bloviations

This a very small in-road I’ll admit but a little headway nonetheless. I still have a lot of work ahead regarding French-bashing, Bush, Iraq, and Clinton’s impeachment. But I did seem to get enough under their electronic skin to elicit this comment:

Dear Anna,

"Snide, well thought out smart-assed comments by you still doesn’t change the fact that the Democratic Party ruined this once great state."

To which I replied:

Dear Mr. X,

"Yes, but they [my snide, well-thought-out smart-assed comments] are good practice for when the Democrats finally realize that I am the one to take on Bill O'Reilly! Bring him on... I'll rip his girlie god-damned head off and kill Fox News’s ratings while I'm at it. I bet O'Reilly is a closet pedophile. Rush was always talking about drugs. O'Reilly is always talking about kids. In fact I think I'm going to leak this to some news organization under Bush’s ‘negative proof’ concept. "So Mr. O'Reilly. I think you're a pervert hiding pictures of little kiddies in your house. Prove to me that you DON’T have those photos....Otherwise it’s ‘Smash and Mash.' It’s for your own good..."

By now two hours have gone by and these two conservatives have legal-esed me into complete exhaustion. My liberal friend, whom I have to thank for introducing these two characters, has been of little to no help on the front lines all evening:

Dear Liberal Friend,

"You have put me in the company of two people I don't even know but who have managed to drive me to drinking. Conservatives AND lawyers...What did I do to deserve this? My dog isn't too happy about this either. She looks like she is going to split her bladder. YOU OWE ME A LUNCH!!!"

And did I hear back from friend? No... That’s when I got:

“You know you love it. You want us on that wall; you need us on that wall . . .”

"Yes," I reply. "As a poster of an extinct species…."

My friend still doesn't think the Tammy Baker analogy I used Oct. 31 is good because she maintains nobody remembers who Tammy Baker is. Sigh. OK!!!!! So chalk up, "Her [my daughter's] right eye is a gothic purple-and-black stain; she looks like Tammy Baker caught outside in a rainstorm" to be officially included in the annual "worst analogies ever written in a high school essay" contest. I THOUGHT IT WAS GOOD. Here are previous high school winners:

He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it. (Joseph Romm, Washington)

She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from the screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again. (Rich Murphy, Fairfax Station)

The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't. (Russell Beland, Springfield)

McBride fell 12 storie, hitting the pavement like a Hefty Bag filled with vegetable soup. (Paul Sabouin, Silver Spring)

From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and "Jeopardy" comes on at 7 p.m. instead of 7:30. (Roy Ashley, Washington)

Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze. (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge)

Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center. (Russell Beland, Springfield)

Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever. (Unknown)

He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree. (Jack Bross, Chevy Chase)

The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease. (Gary F. Hevel, Silver Spring)

Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like "Second Tall Man". (Russell Beland, Springfield)

Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at the speed of 35 mph. (Jennifer Hart, Arlington)

The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can. (Wayne Goode, Madison, Ala.)

They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth. (Paul Kocak, Syracuse, N.Y.)

John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met. (Russell Beland, Springfield)

The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play. (Barbara Fetherolf, Alexandria)

His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliance like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free. (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge)

YOU MAKE THE CALL: Someone pointed out that my black eye analogy is flawed i.e. "Her right eye is a gothic purple-and-black stain; she looks like Tammy Baker caught outside in a rainstorm" for the reason that false eyelashes don't run when they get wet. She may have a point but I think Tammy put mascara ON TOP of her fake eyelashes...in which case the analogy would still be ok.

YMTC: A group of girls at the local high school are slated for suspension for having dressed up as 'Freshmen' on Halloween. The T-Shirts they wore read: Freshman Class 2007. I should add that the Brittany Spears show-all T-shirts were about two sizes too small as were the shorts. To complete the outfit they wore knee pads and had condoms sticking out of their pockets. A crude senior joke? Perhaps. But in every parody lies a grain of truth (even the local newspaper recently ran a story about middle school promiscuity...). Would you suspend the seniors because they were insinuating that the freshman girls are sluts? How about the boy who dresses up as Mafioso? Or the girl in the 'dumb' blond get-up. Where do you draw the line? I think next year for Halloween I'm going to dress up as an S.U.V. " and plaster bumper stickers all over me that say things like "Ask Me What I'm Doing for the Planet?" Do you think I might offend someone?

EVERYTHING IS UNDER CONTROL -- Since the Legislators came back from summer recess the end of August, there has been exactly ONE formal session held. So if you have been trying to reach your Rep or Senator here in Massachusetts for the last few months, you have liekly been hearing that he/she is out 'working in the district.' This means that your state representative is probably home paying his bills and that your government is being run by Legislative Aides much like myself i.e. the world according to Anna.... Don't worry, the state has neither money to embezzle nor any to help the many good causes near and dear to my heart. Given how slow things are right now, I should have a NY Times bestseller sequel to War and Peace out in the bookstores by the December Christmas rush.

BRASH MOVE -- I just sent an email to Pierre Ferrari and Christopher Mackin, Chairman of the Board and CEO respectively of XSweat to congratulate them on their new business venture. Mr. Ferrari used to be Senior VP of Coca-Cola, US. Mr. Mackin President and founder of Ownership Associates:

Dear Mr. Ferrari and Mr. Mackin,

I just finished Robert Ito's article, Sewing Dignity, in the November/December issue of Orion Magazine on my train ride back from the city this evening and would like to congratulate you both on challenging the prevailing sweatshop paradigm. You have inoculated this hitherto disgraceful industry with a shot of consciousness-raising that I hope will be the new model for all clothing manufacturing in the future.

The SweatX (TM) website says that your line of clothes is 'aimed at the college market.' This makes perfect sense for all of the right marketing reasons, and I certainly won't insult you by throwing in Marketing-101 diatribe to elaborate further (particularly given your credentials vs. mine). I do, however, have a request! Should you become as phenomenally successful as I hope you will, can your next line of clothing be for sassy, 40-something idealistic liberals who want to save the world's inhabitants whether they want it or not? While gym-buffed, I don't think I could get away with wearing your X-logo t-shirt to work (I'm more the Ann Taylor/J. Crew look with a pinch of carefully cultivated edge).

BLACKED OUT -- [Here I introduce my top-secret business idea that I am hoping their Hot Fudge Social Venture Fund will finance].

Thank you again for your courage and out-of-the-box creativity in launching the innovative SweatX concept. I hope this idea will usher in an overall change in how consumers buy products. I wish you the very best of luck.

Sincerely,

Anna [xxx]

Would it be too much to ask for a mop that doesn't fall apart the third time you use it? Yesterday I stood in line at a couple of 'home improvement' centers to return some items we ended up not using in our bathroom face-lift project. Not only is the whole return process an archaic nightmare, I was simply amazed at all of the people waiting to return products that screamed: "Heh Sucker! -- you're wasting a couple of hours of your valuable time, not to mention gallons of gas on me -- a product now destined for a near-by landfill and which may or may not degrade (depending on my chemical compound)."

Especially the young newlyweds, the very tax-paying embodiment of any hope what-so-ever of sustaining Social Security and Medicaid, should not be distracted with time-consuming and irritating trips to Home Depot to replace a product they just spent good bucks on less than a year ago. No romance there. Just accusatory finger-pointing about money being wasted on stuff they can't afford [they're still paying off wedding-debt, remember?]. No, these couples should by right have the means to buy a good-quality, long-lasting, ergonomic-friendly product the first time around. It's the least we can do for the next generation of taxpayers being asked to foot the Ka-Trillion-Dollar Iraq bill along with us baby-boomers who have a wicked accustomed-lifestyle-addiction.

HERE ARE ANNA BLOVIATION'S RANDOM AWARDS FOR BEST HOUSEHOLD PRODUCTS AND SERVICES (presented in such a way as to make them appealing to the newly married couple i.e. SEX SELLS PRODUCTS). Some of these things may seem a bit pricey, like the $1,070 Miele vacuum I recommend, but others are a steal, like the stainless steel Revere 3-piece bowl set at $12.99. All are quality-made and built to last a lot longer than most marriages do. Newlyweds need only skimp a little on the invitation stationary and bridesmaid dresses, and they could easily afford all of the indispensable items listed in no particular order below:

1. Dust balls and dog hair have no place on the floor when you're sensually rolling on it -- especially if you have allergies. A vacuum you won't ever regret buying : Best Vacuum

2. Ditto: keep your wood floors as gleaming as the significant other you have pinned to it with this ambidextrous, double-jointed, German-engineered: Best Floor Mop

3. Tired of your S.U.V.-cellulited butt? Try this European derriere-enhancer guaranteed to firm your fanny and infatuate your flame: Best Way to Lose Weight While Grocery Shopping

4. Dead tired at 8 p.m. and need a little pick-me-up to get your engines raring after working three jobs to pay the Iraqi war debt? Best Pick-Me-Up Drink

5. Your leather-clad mistress complaining of dungeon odor? Freshen those dark and funky-smelling places with : Best Musty Odor Eliminator

6. Have you had it with mildewed, slippery shower sex? Keep your tiles squeaky, slip-free-clean with : Best Bathroom Squeegee

7. Looking for some new and interesting S&M toys? Not sure what you could do with these but...: Best Indestructible Kitchen Utensil for Cheap

8. Time to sell your start-up house but you don't have a lot of money [because you spent it all on the wedding] for a major face-lift?: The Best Case for Painting Your Walls Re-Sale-White

9. This 'squeezer' is only for the hard-core connoisseur: Best Presser for the $$$

10. This works like a charm every time. Enjoy deep penetration and sure-fire withdrawal for years to come: Best XXX-screw for the $$$

11. Spice up your love life with organic whip cream and a wine that won't put a dent into your disposable-income pot at :Best Super Market