Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

Hey, did you know that Stephen Colbert (of Comedy Central's The Colbert Report) used to play D&D quite a bit? It came up in last week's interview of him in The Onion.

And it came up extensively again on his show, when he interviewed poker player Annie Duke.

It's just kind of interesting, I guess.

Still working on the Whitehouse dinner writeup. And after that, the story.

Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

Hey, did you know that Stephen Colbert (of Comedy Central's The Colbert Report) used to play D&D quite a bit? It came up in last week's interview of him in The Onion.

And it came up extensively again on his show, when he interviewed poker player Annie Duke.

It's just kind of interesting, I guess.

Still working on the Whitehouse dinner writeup. And after that, the story.

Dinner with a candidate

So last night Teri and I went to a dinner in town to meet Sheldon Whitehouse, who's running for Lincoln Chafee's (Federal) Senate seat. We're glad we went.

Partly just because it was good to get out of the house, of course. I have to admit that it stuns me to realize just how much better we both feel when we change our routine. Most nights - and by that, I mean 99 out of 100, without exaggeration - we just sit at home.

The dinner was in the Elks lodge downtown. It was crowded when we got there; the room was filled with round tables that seated 8-10 people each. Seating was not assigned. We managed to find a table for ourselves, and two more couples sat next to us after a while. I noticed that the capacity of the hall was 200 people, but I'm pretty sure there were more than that there.

The age of the audience was the most striking thing. Teri and I were one of the youngest couples! Some families had brought their children (Teri's mother was watching Sebastian at home), but the average age in the room was probably close to 70, if not older.

Teri and I did some people watching, to start. We spotted Sheldon Whitehouse going from table to table, shaking hands and greeting people. It was so much like a wedding reception that I had to whisper about it to Teri, and she'd been thinking the same thing. That has been happening more and more for us, incidentally; we find ourselves thinking alike. I find that interesting, because we're really quite different in many ways.

We also spotted Todd Brien, who recently lost the race to be Mayor of Woonsocket; he was fairly visible, so perhaps he was preparing for the next run. He didn't come to our table, though.

To my relief the meal was not only something I could eat, but actually something I liked: ziti and meatballs. The line to get the food, though, was very, very slow. So I said "I hate to say this, but if this were a Republican event we would have all marched in lockstep. We'd have all gotten our food, eaten, and then excreted it by now - all in perfect synchronization!"

Actually, the "excreted" version I only whispered to Teri.

We ate, talking a little with the other people at our table. The women were more willing to talk than the men, incidentally.

The pink lemonade amazed me. Despite its color, it tasted just like water. I tried to work up some joke how about how "looking pink and being watery" was a good metaphor for some Congressional Democrats, but I couldn't quite make it work.

As we finished the meal, the speaking began. Several shockingly loud blasts of static started things off, nearly giving one elderly woman near the speakers a heart attack. The rest of the evening was punctuated by static, and he switched back and forth between a mini-mike and a handheld one.

The introduction was made by a veteran from Iraq. To be brutally honest, he didn't seem terribly bright. And his speech actually shocked me: he got up and told us that the media was only reporting bad news from Iraq, and that really things were getting much better there. It was pretty much the standard Republican party line.

Fortunately he didn't go on for too long before introducing Sheldon Whitehouse.

Sheldon (and I'm calling him that here because that's what he asked everyone to call him) is a tall guy with graying sandy brown hair and a squarish face. He speaks with a slight lisp (think just a little touch of Reverend Lovejoy from The Simpsons, minus the mournful drone; better yet, think a touch of Mister Rogers) and was wearing a sweater. He looks like he's in his fifties. His wife is pretty, also tall, and has graying hair although she doesn't look that old.

Before he started there was some problem with his clip-on mini-mike; as his wife fixed it, she said ""You're helpless!". I'm not sure if she meant that to be heard or not, but the mike picked it up and she repeated herself a couple of times, laughing. Once it was fixed, he gave a short speech. It wasn't bad, but he's not Howard Dean; he seems like a decent guy, but I got the feeling that he was telling us what we wanted to hear. It all sounded a little canned, which was inevitable, I suppose. But I was noting down questions that I wanted to ask him, and "Tell us something that we don't want to hear" was one of the first things I put down (I never got around to asking it, though).

Sometimes, I think, you need to challenge people. Wake them up a little, with a cold splash of water. Explain to them, for example, that the Republican success in packing the courts means that we'll be facing an uphill road for a very long time. People can sense when you're telling them the truth, I think, even - or perhaps especially - when it's unpleasant. And they'll respect you the more for that.

As long as you don't overdo it, of course!

Some of the older members of the audience kept talking during his speech; in fact, some of them talked amongst themselves through practically the whole event (my theory is that when you're hard of hearing, you're more likely to assume that no one else can hear you, either).

But the room got dead quiet when he started talking about Social Security. I must admit that I was surprised.

One idiot went on a long rant asking if he'd support our troops marching into Iran with Israeli troops in order to destroy nuclear facilities. While he was at it, why didn't he ask about our plans to attack the Moon? I don't know, but Sheldon managed to voice support for Israel without committing himself to anything insane.

There were a lot of members of the Veterans of Foreign Wars in the audience. Their sole concern seemed to be how well veterans were being treated.

A lot of questioners identified themselves as belonging to (or heading) various liberal groups. One girl was circulating around getting people to sign what I think was a peace petition, but she never reached us.

One woman asked a fairly long question (virtually everyone went on longer than they needed to), but she got a huge laugh when she asked "When you get to Washington, will you sell out?".

One questioner asked Sheldon if he knew what the national debt was. He didn't, but I did, since I'd just looked it up online to answer a question on Advicenators. So I shouted it out: eight trillion dollars.

The machine started producing more and more static, so he announced that they'd be wrapping up the public Q&A soon. But he'd stay and answer any other questions we might have. Teri and I both had had our hands raised to ask a question for most of the evening, but the volunteers with the microphones never reached us. Which was frustrating.

Before he wrapped everything up, though, someone asked him a question about the environment. And that was when he revealed his passion. He'd been the Attorney General of RI, and he had a LOT to say about environmental lawsuits that the state had filed, and the way that the Bush administration and the various plaintiffs kept stalling until the EPA changed the underlying regulations and nullified the suits. I caught no sign of fakery or phoniness; this is something that he really took seriously and was passionate about.

After the Q&A, Teri and I both went up and asked some questions. She asked two: one was how to get younger people to vote and be involved. He told her that he'd been going to colleges all over the state, and listed a bunch of them; as he did, I couldn't help but think that more young people DON'T go to college, and that the party needs to reach them even more. Teri was thinking along the precise same lines, which surprised me; she suggested he go to high schools and speak to seniors. I thought that was a damned good idea, and said so, but I'm not sure how seriously he took it.

Then she asked him about his stance on abortion. We have some anti-abortion Democrats in Rhode Island - it's a heavily Catholic state, after all - and I wasn't sure what his answer would be. But he said, quite firmly, that he was pro-choice, and had demonstrated that clearly when he was in office.

Some of the questions I wanted to ask:

• Whether he'd support full public financing of all federal campaigns. He addressed corruption in Washington, but didn't offer much in the way of specifics, as I recall.
  
  
• His stance on health care. He opposes single payer, it turns out, and agreed with the actuary who asked him about it that the Canadian system was a disaster. He advocates using US health insurance companies as gatekeepers, effectively. Personally I'm dubious about that; private industry is very often NOT as efficient as a government program, as long as that program hasn't been deliberately sabotaged by the government itself.
  
  
• The cloture motion that afternoon. I managed to ask him about that after the Q&A, and he assured me that he'd have supported the filibuster. I also asked what he thought about the performance of the Democrats in the Alito hearings, and he suggested that they needed to get refresher courses in being trial lawyers, so they'd know how to ask effective questions. I mentioned that someone needed to tell Joe Biden to shape up.
  

After we asked our questions, we headed home. We'd had fun. Since we don't yet know the positions (or even identities) of the other candidates in the Democratic primary, we didn't commit to his campaign; but Teri's interested in volunteering, once we make a decision. I am too, although I wouldn't be comfortable going door-to-door or asking for donations.

Of course, my suspicion is that Lincoln Chafee will probably win the general election. A famous name is awfully hard to beat. Still, if we decide that Whitehouse is the best candidate, I think we might volunteer. That way even if the Democrats don't win the House or Senate (which is likely), we'll at least know that we tried.

Sebastian was in bed and asleep when we got home. To my amazement, he'd told Teri's mother that he was sleepy, and went upstairs to bed all by himself; that's very rare.

Dinner with a candidate

So last night Teri and I went to a dinner in town to meet Sheldon Whitehouse, who's running for Lincoln Chafee's (Federal) Senate seat. We're glad we went.

Partly just because it was good to get out of the house, of course. I have to admit that it stuns me to realize just how much better we both feel when we change our routine. Most nights - and by that, I mean 99 out of 100, without exaggeration - we just sit at home.

The dinner was in the Elks lodge downtown. It was crowded when we got there; the room was filled with round tables that seated 8-10 people each. Seating was not assigned. We managed to find a table for ourselves, and two more couples sat next to us after a while. I noticed that the capacity of the hall was 200 people, but I'm pretty sure there were more than that there.

The age of the audience was the most striking thing. Teri and I were one of the youngest couples! Some families had brought their children (Teri's mother was watching Sebastian at home), but the average age in the room was probably close to 70, if not older.

Teri and I did some people watching, to start. We spotted Sheldon Whitehouse going from table to table, shaking hands and greeting people. It was so much like a wedding reception that I had to whisper about it to Teri, and she'd been thinking the same thing. That has been happening more and more for us, incidentally; we find ourselves thinking alike. I find that interesting, because we're really quite different in many ways.

We also spotted Todd Brien, who recently lost the race to be Mayor of Woonsocket; he was fairly visible, so perhaps he was preparing for the next run. He didn't come to our table, though.

To my relief the meal was not only something I could eat, but actually something I liked: ziti and meatballs. The line to get the food, though, was very, very slow. So I said "I hate to say this, but if this were a Republican event we would have all marched in lockstep. We'd have all gotten our food, eaten, and then excreted it by now - all in perfect synchronization!"

Actually, the "excreted" version I only whispered to Teri.

We ate, talking a little with the other people at our table. The women were more willing to talk than the men, incidentally.

The pink lemonade amazed me. Despite its color, it tasted just like water. I tried to work up some joke how about how "looking pink and being watery" was a good metaphor for some Congressional Democrats, but I couldn't quite make it work.

As we finished the meal, the speaking began. Several shockingly loud blasts of static started things off, nearly giving one elderly woman near the speakers a heart attack. The rest of the evening was punctuated by static, and he switched back and forth between a mini-mike and a handheld one.

The introduction was made by a veteran from Iraq. To be brutally honest, he didn't seem terribly bright. And his speech actually shocked me: he got up and told us that the media was only reporting bad news from Iraq, and that really things were getting much better there. It was pretty much the standard Republican party line.

Fortunately he didn't go on for too long before introducing Sheldon Whitehouse.

Sheldon (and I'm calling him that here because that's what he asked everyone to call him) is a tall guy with graying sandy brown hair and a squarish face. He speaks with a slight lisp (think just a little touch of Reverend Lovejoy from The Simpsons, minus the mournful drone; better yet, think a touch of Mister Rogers) and was wearing a sweater. He looks like he's in his fifties. His wife is pretty, also tall, and has graying hair although she doesn't look that old.

Before he started there was some problem with his clip-on mini-mike; as his wife fixed it, she said ""You're helpless!". I'm not sure if she meant that to be heard or not, but the mike picked it up and she repeated herself a couple of times, laughing. Once it was fixed, he gave a short speech. It wasn't bad, but he's not Howard Dean; he seems like a decent guy, but I got the feeling that he was telling us what we wanted to hear. It all sounded a little canned, which was inevitable, I suppose. But I was noting down questions that I wanted to ask him, and "Tell us something that we don't want to hear" was one of the first things I put down (I never got around to asking it, though).

Sometimes, I think, you need to challenge people. Wake them up a little, with a cold splash of water. Explain to them, for example, that the Republican success in packing the courts means that we'll be facing an uphill road for a very long time. People can sense when you're telling them the truth, I think, even - or perhaps especially - when it's unpleasant. And they'll respect you the more for that.

As long as you don't overdo it, of course!

Some of the older members of the audience kept talking during his speech; in fact, some of them talked amongst themselves through practically the whole event (my theory is that when you're hard of hearing, you're more likely to assume that no one else can hear you, either).

But the room got dead quiet when he started talking about Social Security. I must admit that I was surprised.

One idiot went on a long rant asking if he'd support our troops marching into Iran with Israeli troops in order to destroy nuclear facilities. While he was at it, why didn't he ask about our plans to attack the Moon? I don't know, but Sheldon managed to voice support for Israel without committing himself to anything insane.

There were a lot of members of the Veterans of Foreign Wars in the audience. Their sole concern seemed to be how well veterans were being treated.

A lot of questioners identified themselves as belonging to (or heading) various liberal groups. One girl was circulating around getting people to sign what I think was a peace petition, but she never reached us.

One woman asked a fairly long question (virtually everyone went on longer than they needed to), but she got a huge laugh when she asked "When you get to Washington, will you sell out?".

One questioner asked Sheldon if he knew what the national debt was. He didn't, but I did, since I'd just looked it up online to answer a question on Advicenators. So I shouted it out: eight trillion dollars.

The machine started producing more and more static, so he announced that they'd be wrapping up the public Q&A soon. But he'd stay and answer any other questions we might have. Teri and I both had had our hands raised to ask a question for most of the evening, but the volunteers with the microphones never reached us. Which was frustrating.

Before he wrapped everything up, though, someone asked him a question about the environment. And that was when he revealed his passion. He'd been the Attorney General of RI, and he had a LOT to say about environmental lawsuits that the state had filed, and the way that the Bush administration and the various plaintiffs kept stalling until the EPA changed the underlying regulations and nullified the suits. I caught no sign of fakery or phoniness; this is something that he really took seriously and was passionate about.

After the Q&A, Teri and I both went up and asked some questions. She asked two: one was how to get younger people to vote and be involved. He told her that he'd been going to colleges all over the state, and listed a bunch of them; as he did, I couldn't help but think that more young people DON'T go to college, and that the party needs to reach them even more. Teri was thinking along the precise same lines, which surprised me; she suggested he go to high schools and speak to seniors. I thought that was a damned good idea, and said so, but I'm not sure how seriously he took it.

Then she asked him about his stance on abortion. We have some anti-abortion Democrats in Rhode Island - it's a heavily Catholic state, after all - and I wasn't sure what his answer would be. But he said, quite firmly, that he was pro-choice, and had demonstrated that clearly when he was in office.

Some of the questions I wanted to ask:

• Whether he'd support full public financing of all federal campaigns. He addressed corruption in Washington, but didn't offer much in the way of specifics, as I recall.
  
  
• His stance on health care. He opposes single payer, it turns out, and agreed with the actuary who asked him about it that the Canadian system was a disaster. He advocates using US health insurance companies as gatekeepers, effectively. Personally I'm dubious about that; private industry is very often NOT as efficient as a government program, as long as that program hasn't been deliberately sabotaged by the government itself.
  
  
• The cloture motion that afternoon. I managed to ask him about that after the Q&A, and he assured me that he'd have supported the filibuster. I also asked what he thought about the performance of the Democrats in the Alito hearings, and he suggested that they needed to get refresher courses in being trial lawyers, so they'd know how to ask effective questions. I mentioned that someone needed to tell Joe Biden to shape up.
  

After we asked our questions, we headed home. We'd had fun. Since we don't yet know the positions (or even identities) of the other candidates in the Democratic primary, we didn't commit to his campaign; but Teri's interested in volunteering, once we make a decision. I am too, although I wouldn't be comfortable going door-to-door or asking for donations.

Of course, my suspicion is that Lincoln Chafee will probably win the general election. A famous name is awfully hard to beat. Still, if we decide that Whitehouse is the best candidate, I think we might volunteer. That way even if the Democrats don't win the House or Senate (which is likely), we'll at least know that we tried.

Sebastian was in bed and asleep when we got home. To my amazement, he'd told Teri's mother that he was sleepy, and went upstairs to bed all by himself; that's very rare.

...they keep pulling me back IN!

klyfix recently did a post about something interesting, which is why I'm still awake.

Apparently the Joint Chiefs have enough time on their hands to write a letter of protest about a recent editorial cartoon in the Washington Post.

We're not talking Ted Rall, here. We're talking Tom Toles.

So I had to write a comment on AmericaBlog. For some reason I used my old Quasit identity for the signature, I'm not sure why.

Here's the comment. It'll make much more sense if you go see the cartoon first. Frankly, it's not that I view the JC letter as censorship; it's just amazing to me that they apparently missed the whole point of the cartoon. I mean, how stupid can they be? And honestly, how could they justify wasting time over drafting a joint letter? It's too ridiculous.

---

Well, it's understandable that the Joint Chiefs are upset. After all, what Tom Toles was obviously saying in that cartoon was "I'm glad that lots of soldiers are getting maimed."

What? That's NOT what he was saying?

Oh. Then he must have been saying "Hey, soldier-boy! We blow you up plenty good, and generals are sleeping with your wives and girlfriends!"

That's not right either?

Okay, then it must have been "I, Tom Toles, support Al Queda. Long live the heroes of Allah! Terrorists, come and blow up Walter Reed hospital. And cut funding for veterans, while you're at it."

No?

Damn. I'm stumped. Whatever that cartoon meant, I'm sure it was SOMETHING unpatriotic. And I'm awfully glad that the Joint Chiefs are taking the time to defend us against the bomb-throwing Mr. Toles.

It's not like they have anything more IMPORTANT to do, after all!

...they keep pulling me back IN!

klyfix recently did a post about something interesting, which is why I'm still awake.

Apparently the Joint Chiefs have enough time on their hands to write a letter of protest about a recent editorial cartoon in the Washington Post.

We're not talking Ted Rall, here. We're talking Tom Toles.

So I had to write a comment on AmericaBlog. For some reason I used my old Quasit identity for the signature, I'm not sure why.

Here's the comment. It'll make much more sense if you go see the cartoon first. Frankly, it's not that I view the JC letter as censorship; it's just amazing to me that they apparently missed the whole point of the cartoon. I mean, how stupid can they be? And honestly, how could they justify wasting time over drafting a joint letter? It's too ridiculous.

---

Well, it's understandable that the Joint Chiefs are upset. After all, what Tom Toles was obviously saying in that cartoon was "I'm glad that lots of soldiers are getting maimed."

What? That's NOT what he was saying?

Oh. Then he must have been saying "Hey, soldier-boy! We blow you up plenty good, and generals are sleeping with your wives and girlfriends!"

That's not right either?

Okay, then it must have been "I, Tom Toles, support Al Queda. Long live the heroes of Allah! Terrorists, come and blow up Walter Reed hospital. And cut funding for veterans, while you're at it."

No?

Damn. I'm stumped. Whatever that cartoon meant, I'm sure it was SOMETHING unpatriotic. And I'm awfully glad that the Joint Chiefs are taking the time to defend us against the bomb-throwing Mr. Toles.

It's not like they have anything more IMPORTANT to do, after all!