I'm really only fiscally conservative, but occasionally even I get into the Puritanical spirit when it is called for. So last night's idiotic "let's sell the National Mall to the highest bidder" smacked of a sell-out. From a great article you should read right now is the definitive takedown:

The event was deemed so auspicious that George W. Bush took yet more time off from fighting the war on terrorism to appear, via videotape, at the end of the concert and just before the game, in the manner of a TV huckster. He tried to make some connection between football and "the spirit that guides the brave men and women" of the military, much as the concert had done.

He also said pro football "celebrates the values that make our country so strong." Like what, violence and greed?

Then, in intense close-up, the leader of the Free World asked the trademarked rhetorical question, "Are you ready for some football?"

Some bureaucrat whose thinking cap had blown off authorized lending the once-solemn, or at least dignified, Mall to this very raucous and very commercial event. The show was a collaboration between the NFL, apparently trying to lure younger viewers to football, and, as the announcer said, "New Pepsi Vanilla and Diet Pepsi Vanilla, the Not-So-Vanilla Vanilla."

...

Each musical act was introduced by a former NFL star -- Joe Theismann and Joe Namath opened the show together -- teamed with a member of the armed forces. Theismann said of the concert, "It's a national moment of remembrance," which really seems preposterous in light of what followed. A woman representing the Coast Guard said, "I'm proud to be an American" before introducing Aerosmith.

I'm not a huge Tom Shales fan...but his article was great. Way to go, Tom!

Because this Times article is explosive. I would hope that some Democratic Candidate (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) tonight would point out that our government spent a great deal of time after 9/11 worrying about how the Saudis would feel while people around the country were stuck in airports unable to go anywhere. But if your last name was bin Laden, evidently you got VIP treatment. This is way bigger than the Niger flap. If the Post picks it up, and assigns Milbank to the story, you can kiss the 50% popularity rating goodbye. Ferrying Saudi nationals around the country in the wake of an attack by said country's citizens is idiotic.

Here's some choice excerpts:

WASHINGTON, Sept. 3 — Top White House officials personally approved the evacuation of dozens of influential Saudis, including relatives of Osama bin Laden, from the United States in the days after the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks when most flights were still grounded, a former White House adviser said today.

The adviser, Richard Clarke, who ran the White House crisis team after the attacks but has since left the Bush administration, said he agreed to the extraordinary plan because the Federal Bureau of Investigation assured him that the departing Saudis were not linked to terrorism. The White House feared that the Saudis could face "retribution" for the hijackings if they remained in the United States, Mr. Clarke said.

The fact that relatives of Mr. bin Laden and other Saudis had been rushed out of the country became public soon after the Sept. 11 attacks. But questions have lingered about the circumstances of their departure, and Mr. Clarke's statements provided the first acknowledgment that the White House had any direct involvement in the plan and that senior administration officials personally signed off on it.

Mr. Clarke first made his remarks about the plan in an article in Vanity Fair due out Thursday, and he expanded on those remarks today in an interview and in Congressional testimony. The White House said today that it had no comment on Mr. Clarke's statements.

The disclosure came just weeks after the classified part of a Congressional report on the Sept. 11 attacks suggested that Saudi Arabia had financial links to the hijackers, and Mr. Clarke's comments are likely to fuel accusations that the United States has gone soft on the Saudis because of diplomatic concerns.

Senator Charles E. Schumer, Democrat of New York, seized on Mr. Clarke's comments to call on the White House to conduct an investigation into the hasty departures of about 140 Saudis from the United States in the days after the attacks.

Mr. Schumer said in an interview that he suspected that some of the Saudis who were allowed to leave, particularly two relatives of Mr. bin Laden who he said had links to terrorist groups themselves, could have shed light on the events of Sept. 11.

"This is just another example of our country coddling the Saudis and giving them special privileges that others would never get," Mr. Schumer said. "It's almost as if we didn't want to find out what links existed."

Be sure to read the entire article.

From the hilarious site itself, here's the scoop:

SHOCKING PHOTOS OF CALIFORNIA LIEUT. GOVERNOR CRUZ BUSTAMANTE AS MEMBER OF 'LATINO HATE GROUP'

FRESNO, CA (Fox News) Shocking photographs from Lieut. Governor Cruz Bustamante's sordid past as a Fresno State University militant Chicano hate group member in the free wheeling 1970s surfaced today on my desk. These photos are compelling evidence that his membership in the college student group 'MEChA', whose acronym in Spanish means, "Mexican Ku Klux Klan," is more than a youthful indiscretion. Bustamante, which in Spanish means, "He who breaks open the skull of the White Man," is shown racing towards a carne asada barbecue area, toting a Mexican flag and full Chicano revolutionary regalia. He is accompanied by a band of fellow unbathed MEChISTAS, which in Spanish means, "Mexican Aryan Nation."

It is un-American for this gordo bandido (fat democrat) to not renounce his membership in this dangerous and reckless seditious Chicano hate group. You can just hear the shouts of, "Hispanic Power!" and a bloodcurdling "Ole!" as you stare at this horrific scene of South of the Border savagery. Among the goals of this militant Mexican mafia are the complete takeover of Aztlan, which means "move into your house and violate your blonde daughter" and the most offensive and radical, to recruit Latino students into college. Disgusting!

The MEChA slogan is, "La Union Hace La Fuerza," which means in Spanish, "Get your paws off me you damn dirty Gringo ape!"

Check out the site. A very funny place.

So I'm sitting there in scenic Harmarville, realizing that not only will I probably be late for the wedding, but that even if I do make it, I'll have to take my own car, which will limit my options later significantly. The decision to stay up late and only get three hours of sleep (I awoke Sunday morning at 7 AM and couldn't go back to sleep, so I drove around town playing the radio real loud) was biting back at me big time, as I realized my sense of time must've been a little off.

I think to myself: screw it,jumping into my bright red rental car, pop in a Alice in Chains cd I bought the day before for a song, and slam on the accelerator and the volume.

Rationally, I figured if a cop pulled me over I'd have the best excuse ever. Luckily none did, and I made it to the wedding in record time, gravel spitting behind me the whole way. I got out, threw on my jacket and walked over to the area acting as if everything had been planned.

I'd never been to a Jewish wedding before, and it was really cool. The ceremony itself was rather short, which was good, and the weather was unbelievably nice, which made things perfect. The post-ceremony was also fun, with plenty of spirits, dancing and food to enjoy. So before I digress, let me just make it clear that I had an incredible time, and I loved the chance to catch up with some people. I even got to dance with the bride (before the groom cut me off) and I got to help with some chair-raising fun.

Of course, after things were over it was back to the lab again, only I've got a vehicle I don't want to drive. On a whim, I decided to go ahead and follow some people to a local establishment. Most people were retreating to the hotel but since I had to leave at the crack of dawn the next day I figured I'd press my luck and hang out with the few people who wanted to keep going a bit longer.

The first whammy hit me when I realized the people I was following weren't going the right way. So I pulled a u-turn and got behind some people whom I thought were the right people. Obviously, I wasn't firing on all cylinders, but I figured I was fine. At least until I drove into the next town over and realized I was completely lost. By this point the rain was coming down in sheets so my condition combined with the weather was making it difficult to concentrate.So I looked for a road to turn around on. I took the next left (several miles later) and was beginning to contemplate risking the wrate of the local PD by pulling an illegal u-turn in the middle of a highway when I saw a high-school like building to my right which would allow me to pull in and beat a hasty restreat. With almost too much gusto I streaked into the parking circle in front of the building and got ready to turn around.

It was the local police station.

I could feel my karma taking a beating, since I'd already lied to the groom's mother (technically, I said that I was "considering my options" rather than "driving home myself" but I definitely violated the spirit of the deal) about what I was doing. I tried to calmly (remember, I'd only gotten a few hours of sleep the night before and the added depressants weren't helping me stay focused in the pouring rain) go around the circle, avoiding the gaze of the policeman parked in their cars just a few feet away. I hoped they just thought I was lost, and I luckily hit a green light on the way out, taking another left and going back the way I'd arrived. I slowly sped up until I was back at speed again, with no cops behind me.

Driving back through the town I was supposed to meet people in, I decided not go for whammy number three, and instead headed to the hotel to hang out with some guests. It was a wise move, and I got to hang out for a decent amount of time with them, turning in around 2:00. This enabled me to get two hours of sleep before rising, packing quickly and racing to the airport just in time to miss my flight. I then spent the next four hours on standby hoping that I wouldn't get bumped and have to wait an entire day before being able to come back to DC. Thankfully I managed to get on the next flight and arrived at DC without a working cellphone, carrying the past week and half on my back like some sort of creature from Labyrinth.

Overall, a great weekend. The only quibble I had was one I think Hollywood is to blame for, namely, the expectations of a wedding. We all know that in Tinseltown, every wedding is attended by the entire single population of California, with most people over 30 but looking like their 20, with tons of cash to spend at lavish events, no room-sharing and tons of car-driving, although no fights about designated drivers. In that context, I was annoyed that almost every person there was a couple. The conversion process was therefore backed with a twinge of conscience: do you want to be that guy that hit on someone's girlfriend at your friend's wedding? Well, do you feel lucky?

Fortunately, the temptation wasn't necessary, as there were only a few women not connected to my friends so that a trangression wouldn't ruin any friendships. Messing up a friendship over a woman should only be done in the rarest of instances, perhaps if your life is on the line. Bigger fish, smaller pond, another kettle etc. etc.

Of course, I don't hit too many weddings, but I imagine the flow will get quicker before it slows down. And on that note, I'm going to stop penning this entry.

Okay, so I get back from the beach, my body a mellow melanin melange, ready to take on the world. An early start and I'm airborne to scenic Pittsburgh.

Right.

Okay, I don't wish to be completely mean, but in the pantheon of great American cities, I think Pittsburgh missed the list. Nothing against the people, of course, or certain aspects of the town itself. From far away, Pittsburgh looks really cool. Nestled between the intersection of two rivers (the idiotic decision to say that "3 rivers" intersect there would only be true if Pittsburgh sat atop a giant natural drain which sucked three rivers into a giant hole...) the city rises from a series of vallies like some tribute to modernity. Combined with the fact that it was built from money from coal, and you get a turn-of-the-century coolness that isn't matched when you inspect up close.

For starters, every building is covered in a thick layer of grime. It's disgusting. I'm not sure why several of the oldest buildings are so encrusted, but you'd think that there'd be a way to clean it off. Maybe it's some irrecversible chemical reaction. According to some sites it can be cleaned off though, it just hasn't yet. Several other pro-pittsburgh sites note that the grime was scrubbed off "decades ago" which is clearly erroneous. Note to Pittsburgh fans: raise some money and cleaa the whole town up.

Rather than continue to bust on Pittsburgh let me give a brief highlight: the Original Hot Dog Shop or "The O" as it is better known, kicks some serious ass. If you're going to the City of Grime you might as well stop by the dirty O and snag some hot dogs and some french fries. Without the O I'd say the city was seriously lacking but the O managed to save the experience for me, despite being frustrated that the "strip district" contained few if any strip clubs. It did contain some rather scantily clad skanky biker chicks attempting to get us to purchase cheap beer. For some reason, my wedding-party friends didn't seem interested in their wares, despite my pleadings.

I caught up to them checking out some books outside a book store, right when 5 guys on harleys rode up with authority. Talk about your wacky, "why am I here" moment! Eventually though, we ended up at the O and enjoyed some tasty food, so all's well that ends well.

As bad as Pittsburgh was, it was a social mecca compared with Harmarville, which seemed like a weird doppelganger of North Adams, Mass sans modern-art galleries, of course. Although again, just like in Pittsburgh, the people were quite friendly, the town itself just lacked some basic things. The movie theatre had closed and moved two towns over, and there weren't any great places to shop for essential items like watch bands and cell phones. (I'll explain later.)

Much likc the City of Grime having the O, Harmarville had one highlight, only it wasn't in Harmarville, it was in the town two towns over. Regardless, it was a giant used cd/dvd store akin to the Soundgarden up in Fells Point, B-more, Maryland. The guy who owned it was really helpful and if I hadn't spent the day avoiding the wedding party people due to a hotel idiocy I probably would've ruled the day a success. 5 cds purchased for $20 was good, considering.

The hotel made me rethink the day, however. I show up fairly early, before noon, that is. I check in and while doing so inquire about the rates. They quote me a rate that doesn't reflect any sort of discount, which ticks me off. They also make me wait to move into my room. I see some packages behind the counter and I ask what they're for seconds before I'm supposed to get my key and leave. The guy replies that they're for a wedding party. I respond that maybe I'm in the wedding party, and he asks what wedding I'm with. I tell him and he says, "Oh, yeah, I guess you should get one of these."

So Mr. I'm Smoking Crack and didn't realize you were in The Wedding Party gives me my key without apologizing and I go to my room. Seeing that the other bags hadn't been picked up I figure I was the first to arrive. So I catch a movie and then return to my room. Still no message on the voicemail, so I figure no one else has arrived. I go buy my cds and then get dinner. Still no messages on my voicemail, or on my cellphone. So I go back to my room and watch some tv before giving up late in the evening.

Later that night I dimly remember the phone ringing. I look over later to see if they left a voicemail but the blinky light doesn't show anything. Thinking it was all a dream, I go back to sleep.

It turns out that a couple people were there, but the stupid hotel voicemail system didn't work, so they couldn't leave a message. Why the guy at the front desk didn't tell me would've surprised me, if not for the fact that he also screwed me rate-wise and failed to see if I was in the wedding party at all. What an idiot. So I blew all of Friday messing around instead of hanging with my friends. Oh, well.

Saturday was fun, at least, with the consumption of food taking a large amount of time and energy. I ran into everyone else during breakfast and discovered that there was only one other person from DC. She was spoken for, so I merely made polite conversation. Later, after even more eating there was a group softball game which was cool right up to the part where I hit into a double play to end the whole thing. On the bright side I did score a couple runs and played decently, so things weren't that bad, though we did lose. Later we moved to a country club and I was excited to see we could go swimming. Since I had a couple pairs of extra board shorts (fresh from my second beach vacation in two weeks) I grabbed a towel and jumped in.

Shock of water awakens me. Shock of board shorts containing wallet, chap-stick and cell-phone awakens me further. Overall it was a $150 dip into a pool.

I took the phone out, but I knew it was toast. Even those crafty scandinavians have yet to build a great water-proof phone. So I sucked it up, tossed the hunk of junk on a table and dove back in to enjoy a bone-crushing game of 5 on 5 water basketball, where the "no blood no foul" rules seemed to be in effect. We won, eventually, though more egos and bodies were bruised in that hour long attack than at any point during the weekend.

I blew a few minutes after the game disassembling my phone and then gave it up as a lost cause. Dinner was enjoyable, although I didn't have enough time to talk to all of my friends who were there. The only weird part was being called a "heathen" by some guy who insisted that part of the hebrew blessing be read in English. The part that said that you were either with Israel or a heathen. A weird choice of what to translate, as several people noted.

So a little Saturday night fun took place, ending up with a select crew at the local Harmarville 24-hour restaurant named "Kings". We didn't get thrown out, although I swear we were being much roudier than the last time I got ejected from a waffle house. I'm glad I didn't have to serve us Sunday morning...although I will say it was nice to be there with the groom, an overall cool guy, as well as several other cool people who shall remain nameless.

Sunday. Wedding Day. This was when I went into Pittsburgh with some friends (I ditched the people I'd promised to accompany into the big city earlier that morning at Kings...although one of them thoughtfully send me a text message to my non-functional cell-phone asking if I wanted to come with them...) and ate at the dirty O. We got back with just one and a half hours before game time. Plenty of time for me to shower and dress, right?

At least I thought so. So I screwed around a bit, grabbing an ironing board (which I didn't need) and watching a little tv. Next thing I know the hour is up and I strolled outside to discover that everyone had gone. I mean, everyone. I flipped for a second, realizing that I would have to drive my own car to the wedding, a fate worse than death.

On a completely different note, be sure to check out the latest relationship column over on the advice side of the website. I'm going to get Brad and Helena to chime in as soon as they are able, though both are currently in their secret undisclosed locations. We'll see.

I have met my boyfriends parents twice and both times seemed to have gone pretty smooth. The problem is that I dont know what to talk about when I am around his parents. My boyfriend said it would be nice if I could talk to his mom more when I see her and to kind of spend a little time with her so we can get to know each other. What are some good conversation starters and what should I talk to her about because this is all new to me?

Sincerely,
A Curious Conversationalist



Helena replies:

Edward replies:

Well, there are a whole host of things you can talk about. I'm a little curious about your statement that this "is all new to you" because it implies that you haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. Unless you were born a mute, you should just get to know his parents as you would any other strangers. At first, I'd refrain from making fun of them or appearing rude. No cursing, you know the drill.

As long as you don't make any major faux pas on the etiquette front, you can talk about almost anything. I say almost because you probably want to skip the politics/religion quagmires. If you want to talk about some local sports teams, that's good, but it helps to get a heads up from your boyfriends so you don't make a verball gaffe and end up alienating them both.

If you want to get to know his mom (or, rather, if your boyfriend wants you to get to know his mom) then ask your boyfriend what his mother enjoys talking about. If she's into gardening, ask her about that. If she gets really fired up about movies or her job, ask her about that. The trick is actually being genuinely interested in learning about his parents, or at least seeming like you are. If you have no desire to get to know either of them, I'd suggest you fake it. Insert sexist joke here.

Brad replies:

The first rule of going on a trip is don't go for a swim with your cell phone.

The second rule of going on a trip is don't go for a swim with your cell phone.

With that said, showing up late for a 6:30 am flight that you awoke for at 4:30 in the morning after having only taken 2 hours of rest is also a big pill to swallow. Fortunately, I had a fifty pound bag of stuff on my back, and another 20 pounds in my right/left hand, depending on where I was. Yesterday was not fun.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I started out at the beach. Virginia Beach, to be precise. It was warm and sunny and the water was perfect. There were a few too many jellyfish, in my not-so-humble opinion, but most were so small that they didn't even sting you. The waves were nice and high several of the days, which was fun. And my vitamin D level finally approached the proper level for summertime. I had managed to secure a decent base the weekend before, so hopefully I'll manage to last without significant fading into the fall season. We'll see how that goes.

Plenty of mindless hours were spent reading, catching some rays and enjoying life in the ocean. Nothing major happened. Just a good wholesome week of nothing. It's always best to have some nothing time available every so often, just to detox off of life itself. No worries, no ringing cell phone, no e-mail. No nothing. It's a good feeling when you can control your temperature by going into the ocean or lying on the sand, and when the biggest decision is what particular fish to eat for dinner.

Minor annoyance number one was that my cell phone was roaming in VA Beach. AT&T Wireless evidently doesn't have coverage down there, and the last time I roamed on the system I ended up blowing almost $100, so I was loathe to repeat said error. Consequently, even though my phone would ring, I didn't pick it up until later...much later. I didn't check my voicemail all that often, because I kept hoping nothing really bad was happening. As it turned out, nothing did. Now, however, I have to go back and track down all the people who thought I was around and make amends for not returning their phone calls/e-mail in a timely manner.

Minor annoyance number 2: Virginia Beach is great for unwinding. Maybe a little too great. If you like working on your tan, you're set. (Which means I was fine.) If you want to rip up the town with a bevy of scantily clad, of-age women, you might want to look elsewhere. Enough said. No stories, in this case, is a good thing.

Minor annoyance number 3: checking my e-mail with pop commands from a remote location after I got back from the beach. I know this is fairly geeky, but using pop commands to check your e-mail is a tough road to hoe, especially when you've got 140 new messages in your box. Fortunately, I didn't have much time to do this, because as soon as I finished my beach trip I departed for a wedding in Pittsburgh. Which will occupy part II of the digression.

Whoops!

I meant to write an explanatory note detailing my absence for the past week...it's the longest time I've gone for over a year without posting anything. But I didn't have the ability.

Stories to be posted shortly, after I read all of my e-mail, etc.