Give this Dawg a Tooth Fairy!

Chihuahua with only half its teeth, June 2005

To see your dog so drugged out that he can't keep his twitchy Chihuahua head up is funny; to know that it's all because you never cleaned his teeth and he had to have 11 of them out, well, that's making one OCD blogger feel plenty guilty.

But before I launch into an open apology, Stanley, let me remind you that you never let me clean them. You bit me. And even the Vet understood. And I know I could have spent $150 getting you put under so they could be cleaned, but, well, John Kerry needed that money more than you. And now-- your teeth, your teeth! Plucked and thrown away, like oh so much Democratic Senatorial power.

I know, Stanley, the pain of teeth frolicking (remember?). And I know, too, that the difference between animal dentistry and human dentistry is like the difference between, well, health care for the poor and for the outrageously wealthy. The latter problem we can do little about at this juncture, but for the moment, get prayin' and bring us a tooth fairy!

Go get 'em Cliffie!

Clifford the Red Dog, leading a pack of moms in protest of Congress 50% cut backs for Public Broadcasting. As I was sayin'... Take Action!

Tonight on PBS-- a Must See!

Tuesday night, June 21 at 10pm, catch The Education of Shelby Knox on the best series for documentary film, POV, shown on your local PBS station.

Witness the alarming clarity, honesty and truth-seeking struggle of a young Evangelist teenager in Lubbock, Texas, as she takes on the school board's abstinence-only platform in their sex education program. A truly purple state film, and a must see. Last night at the Human Rights Festival the young subject of the film, Shelby Knox, promised to run in 2030. Can we wait that long?

One thing is for sure: get out of your blue state or red state bubble and watch it.

Oh, and as I've said before-- save PBS and great programming like this from the crazy Congress.

Hero Dad

Mitchissmo dad in Vietnam, 1967

Dads get forgiven more than moms because they have that style, that style of aloof affectionate "taking care of business." Mothers may do more (like, say, birth), but dads are heroes, giving shelter from storms.


Dads celebrating news of Mitchissmo birth

You may not be around anymore, but I still remember you.
Thanks for fighting the good fight when you had to.
And thanks for everything.

For REAL: Save Public Broadcasting (i.e., NPR, PBS and like, Sesame Street)

Hey there fellow taxpayers! Are you a well-versed hawky Neo-Con? Contact a show on NPR or PBS-- they'd love to showcase your viewpoint. Are you a well-versed dovey Liberal? Contact a show on NPR or PBS-- they'd love to have you as a counterpoint to aforementioned Neo-Con. Are you a well-versed snarky Libertarian, arguing for the abolishing of NPR and PBS and all facets of government? Contact a show on NPR or PBS-- ironically, they'd love to have you! You can counter everyone. For guess what, folks-- that's what it's for! You know-- analysis, questioning and discussion, those pesky little things which are quickly disappearing from American culture for the very reason that they value the principle of questioning. And who would want that? (um, hint hint: these guys, among other obvious despots)

Much like my childhood hero Jesus, with public broadcasting there can be love for everyone. You can't find that, nor great children's programming, on Fox nor any network news, all of which have to cater to advertisers for big sugary cereals and etcetera. We should be able to have a break from that somewhere.

Folks, it's just one channel, one outlet. And it needs to be saved. Last week the House, in a voice vote, voted to slash funding to Public Broadcasting (NPR, PBS) by 50%. So support public broadcasting, and act NOW to save it. Contact your senator and Congressmen, and save this one small non-corporate outlet for our discussions and our children's viewing. Go HERE.

Summer and the Stigmata of Ladies' Footwear

foot scars, June 11 weekend

Every year when the temperatures suddenly pop and the streets flood with armies of tank top nakedness, I get a sorrowful thud in my stomach not because the results of my tricep curls will soon be put to the test, but because of two words: flip flops.

Oh yes, I know. Flip Flops are loved by many, many people. Flip Flop Disciples are every where, sporting dresses and sweat pants alike. And I, too, love flip flops... at least in the abstract imaginings of a carefree summer day replete with summer dresses, sangria and general lazin' around. But deep down I know what's going to happen. At first they will feel soooo goooood. Then mid-day, after several subway changes and harried runnings around, I will feel an increasing pinch. If it's not the area between the toes, it's the top of the foot, the inner arch, or some oddly sensitive area of the Big Toe. Blisters, cuts, blood, piggy toe whip lash. And to be fair, this phenomenon is hardly confined to Flip Flops. Nay, it is even worse with the average sandal! I mean really-- a whole pattern of little stiff leather pieces strapped tight across our foot to keep it in as it rushes us to work, and we're shocked to be covered in blisters? A small case of non-consensual S&M, or foot binding/ bondage, if you will. As is the case with most female footwear fashion, the object is to keep us going nowhere. Ladies unite! It is time to rise up against summer sandals!

But there will be no revolution, for the alternative is ugly and habits die hard. Looking at how many women trudge along the lonely path of summer footwear pain, well, I'm at a loss, really. I'm left on the outside. Perhaps it's because I'm of 100% Nordic origin, where our skin is used to wearing boots while we harvest and pummel potatoes. Summer kills me in all respects. Unlike, say, my happy Columbian friend who blossoms in summer with an even, perfect tan (and all those girls in 5th grade-- I hate you!), I freckle, burn, blister, and generally fall apart while I hobble around with a frown.

The problem is skin: skin is tender, leather is not. It takes a few months for your skin to wear leather in. And by that time, of course, summer's over and it's time to pack up the flops and bust out the boots-- and finally, get some walking done.

For the Love of Hob Nobs

One December day in 1993, my significant other at the time-- a Brit-- brought me a can of cookies. I plopped one in my mouth. "Oh my, what are these?" "Hob Nobs", the Significant Other replied. I was an instant addict. When we broke up, I wrung my hands in despair at not having easy access to this British Wonder Cookie, always disappointed by American efforts to emulate the delicacy (a defining moment in my formation into a Liberal, realizing that the Continentals do it better). Ever since, I have dreamt lusty dreams about this awesome cookie, stalking anyone I know to soon be travelling to the Mother Country to bring back a can... or three. They never did. They knew my cookie problem, and refused to be enablers.

Twelve years later, I found myself in a London flat, raiding my friend's cabinet, refusing all other meals and food so that I could a can (or two) of Hob Nobs a day. About to board the airplane back to Martial Law, I spotted a can in the airport store. Sure, buying it almost caused me to miss my flight, but it was worth it.

My Fair Hob Nob (by Sir M. McMitchington)

chocolate top
oatmeal-like bottom
eating you i cannot stop
making all diet efforts flotsam

for weeks only one of you has been left
(it took all I could bear to wait)
staring at you has left my soul bereft
Indeed, i have been at Hell's gate

But, like that old lover it is time to say goodbye
(for sadly, you have added seven winter pounds to my waist)
So you I must eat without a sigh or a cry
Be gone, make haste!

Overheard on the Subway: "Why is a porn star in the news?"

Like, for real, this was overheard on the subway:

Girl: So, like, what's up with the news?
Boy: how do you mean?
Girl: Well, like, everyone's talking about deep throat? Apparently the guy who's in it, they just figured out who he is.
Boy: Really?
Girl: Yeah, and he's like in the FBI. Totally weird.
Boy: Huh. I've never actually seen it.
Girl: And the weirdest thing is that all the newspapers have it on the front page.
Boy: Ha! That's kind of cool.


Ok, I lie!!! I didn't overhear this on the subway-- it was actually a quick transcript of my own brain when I saw the headline on a midtown elevator's "Captivate" screen that "'Deep Throat' had been unveiled to be former No. 2 at FBI." I thought it was a little weird that news was putting porn in the headlines, especially at this poli-cultural juncture. I chuckled and shook my head-- ha! They never knew the real identity of an actor in such a famous porn. I told myself I would bring it up on my date and we'd have a laugh. (Luckily, I forgot).

Then, this morning, it was on the New York Times online headline. Wow! Maybe my fascist neocon friends were right-- the New York Times IS in trouble, if they're putting porn trivia in the headline.

I read on..... oh... OH.

HOLY CRAP!!! I'M stoooo-pid!