Wednesday, January 14, 2004
I have spent days working on testimony speaking against a charter school opening in the city I help represent: a speech for the Board of Education. A letter to the Department of Education. At the end of the day, not one word to come out of the good Representative's mouth will be his. Much like Bush, my boss can barely string two coherent sentences together and yet at the end of the day, he will be the one shining in the light of the audience and press. He will also get the bigger bucks. And I will continue to wallow as a frustrated writer making other people look good.
No one to blame but myself of course. Such a funk puts me in no mood to write here. God if your own blog page feels like an 'obligation' you know things have hit writer's-block bottom.
OK, I'll tell you one fun story lest I bore you with liberal whining. The son and his friends came for pizza dinner the night before he went back to college. I somehow got them to produce their fake I.D.'s for me to take a look at. Let me officially say that the fake I.D. industry has to be getting help from turning-a-blind-eye-states desperate for the revenue these under-aged college drinkers pour into the economy every year. There was no telling the difference between my legitimate Massachusetts license and that of my son's friend. Cost? $100. It was a perfect replica. You don't think the State of Massachusetts isn't turning a blind eye to the disappearance of machinery necessary to produce such perfect specimens? Massachusetts is practically the college capital of the world -- no way they could or would want to do without the revenue underage drinking generates no matter what moral high horse they ride publicly.
New Jersey is supposedly the most prevalently faked license. That's the one my son has. Replete with hologram, he is a 'twenty-two' year-old male who lives at X Street in New Jersey. No one has ever questioned its authenticity -- neither club nor liquor store.
No one to blame but myself of course. Such a funk puts me in no mood to write here. God if your own blog page feels like an 'obligation' you know things have hit writer's-block bottom.
OK, I'll tell you one fun story lest I bore you with liberal whining. The son and his friends came for pizza dinner the night before he went back to college. I somehow got them to produce their fake I.D.'s for me to take a look at. Let me officially say that the fake I.D. industry has to be getting help from turning-a-blind-eye-states desperate for the revenue these under-aged college drinkers pour into the economy every year. There was no telling the difference between my legitimate Massachusetts license and that of my son's friend. Cost? $100. It was a perfect replica. You don't think the State of Massachusetts isn't turning a blind eye to the disappearance of machinery necessary to produce such perfect specimens? Massachusetts is practically the college capital of the world -- no way they could or would want to do without the revenue underage drinking generates no matter what moral high horse they ride publicly.
New Jersey is supposedly the most prevalently faked license. That's the one my son has. Replete with hologram, he is a 'twenty-two' year-old male who lives at X Street in New Jersey. No one has ever questioned its authenticity -- neither club nor liquor store.
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