I wanted to throw up, watching this. What the hell has happened to Elizabeth Edwards, who used to be a woman of admirable spunk and intelligence? In this Oprah video, she is but a ghost of her former self. In fact, Oprah and Edwards’ rat of a husband don’t even bother to include her in their conversation, referring to her in the third person throughout. On the one occasion he used her name, the rat seems to have a problem remembering it, while she just smirks and gazes at him adoringly.
I remember watching them, during the rat’s Vice-presidential campaign of 2004 and thinking, “There’s a smart, intelligent woman, no great beauty perhaps, who still can’t believe her luck in landing the best-looking guy in college.” (Best-looking to some people, maybe, but not me. As I believe I have said elsewhere on this site, if you look up the phrase “shit-eating grin” in Wikipedia, you should find his picture.)
How can these insufferable pricks live with themselves? They are a living paean to the idea that there is no point in being shit ignorant unless you show it.
The First Husband and I have returned from a blissful week in Florida, a break from the tedious, unrelenting slog that has been this year’s winter in Ontario. High points of the trip were meeting up with SMB of Words of Wisdom from a Smart Mouth Broad and a side trip to Key Westâ€”in that order.
I was nervous as hell about meeting “your blogging friend,” as TFH kept sayingâ€”shades of my mother and “your little friend,” generally accompanied by a snooty look. After all, what could a Smart Mouth Broad find in common with a rapidly aging relic of the 1970s? But I needn’t have worried. Not only did SMB and I get on like the proverbial house on fire, but our respective spouses (dragged along like security blankets in case it all went horribly awry!) bonded over their mutual disdain for all things blog- and Twitter-relatedâ€”not to mention their inability to get a word in edgeways once we started yakking. SMB is exactly like her blogâ€”quick-witted, impulsive, opinionated, and very, very funnyâ€”and her Harley Stud is the sweetest man alive. They were a great couple to spend an evening with, and I’m hoping they will take us up sometime soon on our invitation to visit us in Ontario. It may not be as sunny as Florida, but we do have Niagara Falls within a short driving distance!
After all that, Key West was a bit of a letdown. Okay, I exaggerate … a little. Key West was fine, but the trip there was a bit of a chore, as I did all the driving from Boca Ratonâ€”best part of 200 miles, while TFH sat huddled in the passenger seat, a cold-sodden lump of misery, hacking and sneezing in between dozes. A wee bug he’d picked up on the plane had turned into a full-blown cold and fever, and he was definitely not his usual sunny self. Sidebar hereâ€”for a man, TFH is not that bad when it comes to being sick. He doesn’t think the world is coming to an end just because he’s off his feed, unlike many of his gender, but he will insist on filling me in on the details of every symptom, which drives me nuts. On the rare occasion that I get sick, I like to crawl off to a quiet hole somewhere and just die quietly. Which means I’m not the most sympathetic of nurses, as both TFH and #1 Son will hasten to confirm. But I digress.
As fate would have it, it was biker week in Daytona and, apparently, the bikers like to make the loop down to Key West as part of their pilgrimage. So the town was packed with them and their bikes, which they tooled up and down Duvall Street, revving like crazy. Which was pretty damn’ noisy. And unlike SMB, none of the biker chicks I saw was wearing Keds and pearls. Sloppy Joe’s, the bar Hemingway frequented, was packed with bikers, so we gave that a miss.
But we did join the crowd that gathers in Mallory Square every evening to see the sun setâ€”as SMB says, as though it was something that only happens on rare occasions rather than every day! Actually, it was pretty special … sun setting over the Keys and all that … but the crowd actually applauded when the sun disappeared under the horizon. How crazy is that? I can imagine applauding when it comes back again the next day, and from another quarterâ€”phew, it’s backâ€”but setting?? Fortunately, TFH kept his mind on the camera and managed to get some pretty spectacular pictures of the whole thingâ€”including an actual “red sails in the sunset” shot.
We also managed to hunt down a Panama hat for me, which I’d been chasing all over Florida with no success. I couldn’t believe itâ€”in a state dedicated to easing the retirement of old geezers, nobody seemed to know where I could find a Panama hat. But we finally got one, in a store called, appropriately enough, The Mad Hatter.
As you can see from the palm tree over my left shoulder, it was pretty windy on Mallory Square before the sun set, so I was hanging on to my precious Panama for dear life, bingo flap waving in the breeze.
We flew back to Canada on Saturday, leaving sunshine behind us, to be greeted by cold, rain, thunder and lightning. The airline also left behind our luggage, which did not make it here until Sunday afternoon, when a nice man delivered it to our door. But we brought home with us memories of a great week, incomparable hosts, and a terrific rendezvous with a fellow-blogger. Thanks a million, Smart Mouth Broad. You’re a peach.
Oh yesâ€”TFH also brought that damn’ bug back with him, which he’s still not managed to shake. *Sigh*
Judging by the hundreds of comments on each post, they seem to be causing quite a stir in the blogosphere. Like Ruth, I strongly suspect this is not really written by two octogenarian ladies who’ve been pals for 60 years. (Shades of that “I’m in love with my best friend” blog that sucked a lot of people in last year, and turned out to be the genesis of a book.) But I don’t care; it is hilarious. And, as you might expect, I just LOVE what they have to say about She Who Must Never Be Mentioned again on my blog.
Once again, the American thrust on Afghanistan, as explicated in an article in today’s New York Times, completely ignores Canada.
. . . the Obama administration would work with provincial leaders as an alternative to the central government, and . . . would leave economic development and nation-building increasingly to European allies, so that American forces could focus on the fight against insurgents. (Emphasis mine)
“European allies?” Let’s do the math here: As of 23 January 2009, there have been 996 Coalition deaths directly related to the fighting in Afghanistan. Of these, USA casualties number 574, UK casualties 124, and Canada 107. The rest range from Germany with 30 casualties to Lithuania with a grand total of 1. It appears fairly clear that, yes indeed, the USA is carrying the load, with twice the casualty rate of the UK and five times Canada’s.
But not so fast: The Americans have 32,000 troops in Afghanistan, while the UK has less than 8,000 and Canada some 2,500. Which puts their respective casualty rates in a whole nuther lightâ€”Canada at 4.2%, while the US and UK rates are 1.8% and 1.6% respectively.
At least the Brits see fit to mention Canada’s contribution now and then but, as always, all the American media see when they look northward is Alaska. Which is probably why Canada got all girlish and giggly when it was announced that President Obama’s first foreign (or, as Missus Palin might say, “overseas”) trip would be to Canada. They like us, they really like usâ€”even if they don’t know we exist! Gargh.
But we can now hazard a guess as to why Obama is making the trip. The Canadian government has committed to pulling out of Afghanistan by 2011, and maybe a little sweet-talking is in order to see if Canada can be charmed into extending the date. Perhaps someone should warn Obama â€” sweet-talking Stephen Harper will be like cuddling up to a dead mackerel.