Welcome to Hell, Rev. Falwell

Of the 9/11 attack:

I really believe that the pagans and the abortionists and the feminists and the gays and the lesbians ... all of them who have tried to secularize America, I point the finger in their face and say: you helped this happen.

Despicable.

Happy Birthday, Young MC

He's 40 today. Make up your own punchline.

Now, that's just an unfortunate camera angle

Denied!

The Federal Railroad Administrator denied the Dakota, Minnesota, and Eastern Railroad's $2.3 billion (that's billion with a "b") loan application.

Poor DM&E! I hope John Thune's check doesn't bounce.

James Cameron: I'm King of the Loons!

Director James Cameron says he knows where Jesus was buried.

So long, Milton Friedman

My interest in economics was sparked way back in about 1980 or so when I heard about Friedman's negative income tax (NIT) proposal. It appealed to my juvenile mind back then, and it still does.

Yes, I realize that that could be interpreted to mean that I still have a juvenile mind.

Anyway, it seems to me that a NIT could largely satisfy 1) the flat-tax people; 2) the progressive-tax people, and 3) the tax simplification people, all at once.

Alas, the lobbyists who make the Washington world go 'round would all have heart attacks.

Dumbassery

The stupidest post-election blather I've heard yet*: soon-to-be-former-Senator Rick Santorum said something like "This was just a little too steep of a mountain to climb, but it was not for lack of people wanting us to climb it."

I'm pretty sure it was for lack of about a third of a million people wanting him to climb it.

*But it's early on Wednesday. Surely several people will top this by week's end. Howard Dean? Tony Snow? John Kerry? Dubya?

Miler

Jim Ryun lost? C'mon, people! The guy ran 3:51.1!

Palmolive...

...contains neither palm nor olive. Discuss.

Naturally

Was there ever a more appropriately named baseball executive than Yankees GM Brian Cashman?

Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair. Flow it, show it

For me, the 70s didn't end until Pat Simmons cut his hair.

Too late, Joe!

I bet Joe Lieberman's thinking "Why couldn't Scotland Yard have revealed this new terrorist plot on Monday?"

You Still Got It!

Happy Birthday, Donny Most!

Try the veal!

I'd like to thank the World Dryer Corporation for giving me my start in comedy. Yes, I was the first to deface the instructions on a hand dryer in a public restroom* to read "Push button. Rub hands gently under warm air."

I can't take credit for "Stops automatically." I'm a stickler for spelling.

*At a rest stop on I-35, just north of Dallas, in 1969, if you must know.

Who knew?

Turns out Killing Me Softly is about Don McLean. Speaking of which, I highly recommend About A Boy. Very charming.

Aphorism

"Politics is not the art of the possible. It consists of choosing between the disastrous and the unpalatable."

John Kenneth Galbraith, via Paul Graham. Something tells me that those two have (or had, in the case of JKG) different ideas of what's unpalatable.

Baby names

If I ever have twins, I'm going to name them Brangelina and Bennifer.

Brainless news

Both Wednesday and Thursday I suffered through air-headed "news" stories on Tom Cruise's baby on "The Early Show" on CBS. I was stuck on a treadmill, and somebody else had the remote control, otherwise I'd have changed the channel. NBC, ABC, CNN, and Fox probably were running the same story.

But anyway, this morning I had a dream about Mr. Cruise. I blame CBS. I was in the tiny back seat of his BMW Z4 (which in reality doesn't have a back seat). He was admonishing me to never, EVER ding the paint if I ever drove it, and anyway, I would never, EVER drive it. Meanwhile, he was trying to park it next to his Porsche, and he scraped the two together with a satisfying crunch.

Phobia

I take a massage now and again, and I'm working through the yellow pages to find the best practitioner. The other day I called a new number and asked to make an appointment. The fellow said "I'll just transfer you to Seth."

Seth!

Seth?

No, no! Transfer me to Betty! Sandi! Crystal! Anybody but Seth!

So Seth gets on the line, I panicked, and now in one hour I go to see him.

I just hope "it" doesn't move, and I'm definitely not eating Mango for lunch.

Kirby Puckett memories

David Halberstam tells a story about Joe DiMaggio in his book about the Yankees & Red Sox, "Summer of '49." I forget which season it was -- '50 or '51, I think. DiMaggio was old, and his body wasn't holding up. The Yankees had already won the pennant that year, and yet he was out there busting his ass, running out every play. Somebody asked him why he was trying so hard in what was essentially a meaningless game. He replied "There might be somebody out there that has never seen me play."

Kirby Puckett played that same way. There were no meaningless games for him. He always gave it everything. What a joy he was to watch. In later years, it was revealed that he wasn't what we thought he was (in a way, a little like DiMaggio's public image vs. his private life). But what he did on the field is what I choose to remember today.

Everybody writing today about Puckett will, of course, mention Game 6 in 1991. He carried the team, the city, the state, the region, the legions of Twins fans, seemingly everybody outside of Atlanta, on his back into game 7 and the Series title the next day.

I remember the day Puckett signed baseball's first $3 million-a-year contract -- a number that seems positively quaint now. My mother called me to tell me the news. She doesn't call me to tell me news about my own brothers & sisters!

Before the All Star game one year, I saw a little feature on TV. They asked numerous players "If you could be one other player here, who would it be?" Everybody -- about a dozen, I think -- answered "Roger Clemens." So naturally they asked Clemens the same question, and he said "Kirby Puckett."

In 1996 I was passing through the Twin Cities when Puckett announced his retirement. There I sat in the airport, reading the Strib and the Pioneer Press, fighting back tears.

Like I am today.