A Gentleman Never Rants

I Was Beaver Cleaver, or Why I Failed At Being A Rebel.

Every now and then, I hear stories about kids of today being rebels or acting out and I can't help but flash back to the "meme" of "bad kids" that was used to terrorize me in high school.

When I was in high school, I heard stories about the "bad kids" and how nothing good comes of being a bad kid.  And when I think back to that, I think of my abortive attempt at being a bad kid.

I TRIED SO HARD to be bad.  When Kurt Cobain died, I donned my best flannel and acted all weepy.  While 'My So-Called Life' aired, I acted all pouty and yelled things at my parents along the lines of "You just don't understand!!!!."   I came down to breakfast on a daily basis with my hair and my clothes jacked up so hideously that my mother would roll her eyes before passing me my scrambled eggs. 

I TRIED HARD, man.

At the end of the day, I never really had the guts. 

I would hear stories of classmates of mine smoking pot (gasp!) or drinking (terrible!) or having sex (call the cops!) and would clutch the pearls. 

Things came to a head my senior year when I started hanging out with the "cool kids."  The "cool kids" were eager to get me drunk for the first time and the first opportunity I was offered was when a bunch of them offered to take me "road tripping."  Road tripping involves getting hammered on the road in a car.  Originally, I was ALL IN. 

But as time went on, it dawned on me that this was a terrible idea.  I was going to be in a car with a bunch of drunk people while driving?  Was this really smart?  What if things went wrong?  WHAT IF I DIED?  I could see my parents at my funeral....."What a nice kid......too bad he had to go and get drunk behind the passenger seat!".  I eventually pulled a friend aside in study hall and said, "I don't want to do this....."

I eventually did rebel in my way.  The first time I "got wild," I visited a friend who was in college and got hammered on Crystal Lite and gin.  Let's just say my hangover the next day was more punishment than my parents could have ever dealt out.

The second time was a few months later and my class held their "senior party" at a farm house where I drank a lot of beer.  I ended the night at a Country Kitchen, eating a big apple turnover at 3 AM.  Classmates of mine, meanwhile, got pulled over for drunk driving.  My parents had a "We trust you" policy and the only thing they asked of me was that I checked in when I got home.  I remember crawling down the hallway to their bedroom and pulling myself up by the doorknob, thinking, "God, this was a HORRIBLE idea....." and blurting out, "MOMDADI'M HOME!" circa 5 AM, before slamming the door shut to run to my bedroom.  And then going to school the next day and feeling like crap. 

A week or so later, I went to another field party and I was still recovering from the excesses of the senior party.  A friend asked me to stay sober, just in case there was a need for a designate.  I was happy to comply.  Over the course of the night, determined to prove my bad-assery, I fired up a cigarette...and accidentally put the business end in my mouth and lit the filter on fire. 

I was not to be rogue that night. 

My friend ended up not drinking and he drove us all home.  For some reason, it was decided it would be better to have me park behind my house and I would then scale the fence to my parents' backyard and I would go in that way.   Things went great....until I fell off the fence and landed chest-first into a pile of mud in my parents' backyard. 

I remember laying there, in my parents' backyard, looking up at the sky and thinking, "God, I'm really terrible at this rebelling shit." 

And, because my parents wanted to hear from me before I went to bed, I had to go check in.  Fortunately, my parents had a humongous dresser right by their bedroom door.

Me:  (lurking behind the dresser)  "I'm home.  Just wanted to check in so you know I'm okay."

Mom:  (wildly interested in my life) "How was the party, dear?"

Me:  "Fine.  It was fine.  Just fine."

Mom:  "Oh, good, who all was there?"

Me:  (strategically covering my mud splattered shirt behind the dresser)  "Oh, you know, everyone.  Just.....everyone."

Mom:  (waking up and reaching for the lamp)  "Who is everyone?"

Me:  "UH!  NO ONE!!!  NO ONE YOU WOULD KNOW!!!"

Fortunately, she let me off the hook and that was the end of my trying to rebel in high school.

I Will Never Be A Good Housewife, or Why I'm Okay With Being A Slob.

I'm going to come out of the closet here. 

I'm a slob. 

Much like when I first came out of the closet as a gay man, there is relief whenever I hear from others that they too are slobs.  Around Christmastime, I ran into a friend at CVS and I walked her home, where she said, "I would invite you to my apartment for a cup of tea, but my place is a DISASTER," and I felt a sweet surge of relief that I wasn't alone.  One of my best friends openly jokes about how messy she and her boyfriend keep their apartment and I can't help but smile. 

So, I'm admitting this to set you all free.  It happens.  And it happens to the best of us. 

The formation of my slobbery can be traced to key roots. 

First off, I grew up in a fairly "Leave It To Beaver" fashion in a lot of ways.  My parents married in 1976 and are still married.  We went to church together as a family every week.  Homework was done before TV was watched.  We ate meals together as a family every night.  Books were encouraged. 

But even early on, there were cracks in the foundation. 

My mother fought mightily and nobly in what was surely a losing battle.  She took on a household of a husband, four boys and a girl who looked up to her brothers and fought to arrange some semblance of order.  General Patton would have been reduced to tears in the same situation, but my mother persevered and thrived. 

But, alas, the battle was not her's to be won.

One of my most seminal memories of childhood was when my mother went out of town for a few days to attend a teacher's conference and the whole house was reduced to shambles.  My father is excellent and amazing at many things but cooking and housekeeping is not one of his fortes.  A stream of grilled cheese sandwiches (at a time I did not eat cheese) and tomato soup followed.  The fact that I didn't overdose on calcium or expire from starvation in those three days is a flat out miracle.  

One night, I answered the phone and there was ketchup smeared all over the ear piece.  This was not a prank.  This had happened "naturally," or as "naturally" as something like that can happen. 

I continued my brave genetic path of laziness up through high school to the point where, when I was in high school and obtained a personal subscription to USA Today, I started piling newspapers in my room.  Actually "piling" sounds too dignified.  Started strewing newspapers around my room.  It got to the point where you couldn't see an inch of carpet if you came into my room.  It got to the point where, when I went to France for almost three weeks, my mother, a hater of the Fifth Amendment on par with Antonin Scalia, had to "threaten/promise" me she would clean my room while I was gone if I didn't tidy up.  I cleaned up my room.

Things continued into college.  When I shared a bedroom, you could draw a line down the middle of the room between where I started and my roommate stopped.  I was always neat in common areas (almost fastidiously neat), but in my own space, I needed to let it all hang out.  This process continued up through my time in DC to present day.

Now, I live alone in a studio apartment, and, yes, yes, it is a wreck. 

So, why do I do it? 

Honestly?  I think its comfortable.  I had a housekeeper for awhile and I was never that satisfied with it.  I would come home and everything would be put away, but I didn't know where anything was.  That's what's kept me going through all the messiness.  I know where everything is.  My memory is a few steps short of photographic and while I have a bookshelf in my pantry area by my kitchen, a bookshelf by my door, two bookshelves in one closet, a bookshelf in the other closet, a stack of books in the other closet and a stack of books on each side of the closet by the door, if you put a gun to my head, I can tell you EXACTLY where any book is at any point.  I have seven binders of magazines and a stack of magazines next to them and I can remember which issue featured which story and where that issue is at any time.  Unlike some people who hate clutter and want nothing to do with it, I thrive on it.  I need a pair of pants?  They aren't on the couch?  Then they are on the second shelf of the walk-in closet on the left hand side. 

So, is it messy?  Sure.  But it works and I'm okay with it.

Every Action Has a Reaction, Or The Aftermath

Tuesday, elections were held on a variety of issues and for a few major offices.  From the officeholder races, four were held to elect individuals to either be Governor or to send a representative to Washington, DC as a federal representative.  

There might be some confusion right out of the gate for even some of the most savvy newshounds out there.  While most of you, no doubt, have heard of the Virginia and New Jersey governors' races and the race for the Congressional seat in the 23rd District of New York, you might not have heard of the fourth race decided Tuesday night.  The fourth race was in the 10th District of California, where Democrat John Garamendi was elected by a sizable majority to fill the seat of Ellen Tauscher (who retired this summer to go to the State Department).  Garamendi was heavily favored in a strong Democratic district, but before I move on, I do want to comment that this is an upgrade.  Garamendi is the former Lt. Governor of California, a former California Insurance Commissioner and a former Deputy Secretary of Interior during the Clinton Administration.  While Tauscher was a Democrat, she won her seat in a tough battle in 1996 during which she knocked off an incumbent Republican and had two equally tough battles prior to being drawn into a safer district following the 2000 census. Following redistricting, even though she was given a safer seat, she either never let go of her more moderate philosophy or actually really believed that a more moderate course was the way to go.  As a result of last night, the residents of the 10th District of California have a more progressive representative representing them and it's likely he'll be more in line with their views.  Congratulations, Representative Garamendi.  

(BTW, for those who REALLY want to geek out -- in 2006, when Garamendi ran for Lt. Governor, he defeated Jackie Speier in the Democratic primary and Tom McClintock in the general election.  In April of 2008, Speier was elected in a special election to fill the seat of the deceased Representative Tom Lantos of the 12th District of California and in November of 2008, McClintock was elected to succeed John Doolittle in the 4th District of California.  With his election last night, Garamendi is now colleagues with two of his former Lt. Governor opponents.  Geek moment over.) 

As you no doubt saw from the newspaper headlines the morning after the election, Tuesday was a "big night for Republicans" because Republicans captured the governor's mansions of both Virginia and New Jersey.  As is the DC way, this was cast, in Republican circles, as a total and utter repudiation of Obama, buyer's remorse that stunk to the high heavens, Democrat doom for 2010, and a complete and total embrace of Republican principles and values to such an extent that half the Democrat caucus in both the House and the Senate should just cave and begin caucusing with the Republicans.  The Democrats, on the other hand, were a little more varied in their responses.  Some said that this was an effective warning sign to the Democrats, which the Democrats would heed and be responsive towards, while others completely dismissed it out of hand, saying that each race was their own race and each individual race was helped/hurt by local/individual factors that have so little relation to the President that the discussion the next morning might as well have been about electoral races in Iceland.  

This being DC, as usual, both sides got a little bit right and a little bit wrong.  Let's go to the autopsy.  

1.    "Obama is doomed.  This is so bad for him."

This argument starts at the point that Obama's party lost two major gubernatorial races in two states that Obama carried in the 2008 elections.  New Jersey was carried by Obama by over 15 points while he carried Virginia by over six points.  As a result, the Democratic parties of both states should have been able to identify Democrat voters, they should have been able to fine tune their political machines and they should have been able to win the turnout wars.  The flat out fact is that they didn't.  Since it's inconceivable that the party machines in both states could have accumulated such a high degree of rust in a scant twelve months, that must mean, according to Republicans, that voters who were classified as either "independent," "lean Democrat" or "likely Democrat" must have bolted to the comfy confines of the Republican party.  Indeed, in Virginia, the Republican Bob McDonnell won Independents by 66-33%, while in New Jersey, the Republican Chris Christie won Independents by 60-30%.  Additionally, there was a bit of face lost on behalf of the Obama White House, given that the President made campaign appearances on behalf of both candidates, particularly Democratic incumbent Jon Corzine in New Jersey, to fire up the base. 

There are some issues to work out with this argument.  

First off, the role played by Independents ignores the fact that Democratic turnout was down in key areas that Obama is strong -- namely, among African-Americans and young people.  For example, in Virginia, 10% of the electorate was under the age of 30, as compared to 21% in 2008.  African-Americans composed 16% of the vote this time around, as compared to last year's 20%.  The Democratic base simply did not show up this time out.  Secondly, voters in exit polls overwhelmingly said they did not cast their votes as a repudiation of Obama and his policies.  This was born out by the campaigns run by both McDonnell and Christie, where neither one sought to nationalize the race as a referendum on Obama.  In fact, both Christie and McDonnell set up webpages that look strikingly similar to Obama's webpage.  For contrast, take a look at a webpage by a hardcore Republican in a decisively Republican state.  Or here.  Remember this guy?  Notice the difference?  The soothing blues vs. the bright reds?  

In 2006, Democrats won races they had no idea they would win.  And a great number of those races were won because those Democrats ran with Bush as a cudgel which they used to beat their Republican opponent.  They ran ads that linked up the incumbent with Bush at every chance they had.  It would almost be fair to say that Bush starred in more Democrat challengers' ads than the Democrats did.  

There was no similar effort put forth by either Christie or McDonnell in terms of tying an "anvil" of Obama to the necks of their opponents.  But while that news might make some Democrats more comfortable, it shouldn't.  

What Tuesday's vote means is that Republicans have figured out a way to sell themselves to the public.  McDonnell took the nicer route.  He ran on a (gasp!) platform, while Christie presented both his own platform while tearing after his opponent in a rather vicious (but extremely New Jersey) race. For the past two election cycles, Democrats have had a pretty easy argument.  "I am not of the party of Bush!" is all a Democratic candidate has needed to say in the past two elections and they immediately gained a degree of credibility.  What the election results from Tuesday show is that those heady, halcyon days for Democrats are over.  Indeed, Governor Corzine of New Jersey tried again and again to make the link between Christie and Bush and it failed.  

The bigger story, though, is not what the rejection of Democratic nominees in both New Jersey and Virginia means for Obama in 2012.  It has everything to do with what it means for Democrats running for reelection in 2010.  

The Tuesday election shows that when Obama is not on the ballot (and when Bush is not in the White House), there will be a natural depression of turnout.  This is to be expected.  Off-year elections typically depend more on turnout and see only the more passionate voters showing up at the polls. Passionate voters tend to be those unhappy with government and those unhappy with government don't display a strong preference for incumbents. 

In 2006, riding a wave of deep dissatisfaction with Bush, Democrats captured 31 House seats.  Over the course of the next year, they swept three special elections.  In 2008, with Obama on the top of the ticket, Democrats won a net gain of 21 House seats.  This past Tuesday, they added one more House seat to their ranks.  When Obama won, he won 64 Congressional districts that John Kerry had lost in 2004.  Congressional Democrats presently hold 49 Congressional districts won by John McCain (although, if you go back and look at the districts lost by Kerry but won by Obama, the number would be higher), while Congressional Republicans hold 33 seats won by Barack Obama.  

The math, however, is even better for Republicans.  Of the 49 districts represented in Congress by a Democrat that were won by McCain, 21 of these Democrats were elected within the past two election cycles.  For the Republicans?  Of the 33 seats held in the House of Representatives that were won on the district level by Obama, only three were won by Republicans in the past two election cycles.  In other words, Republicans who are sitting in "Obama-districts" are far more entrenched incumbents and are less likely to be knocked off, especially in a mid-term where the Democrats have less incentive to turn out to vote.  

Members of Congress care very deeply and very obviously about winning re-election.  And members of Congress who are relatively new to Congress and represent districts that voted for John McCain have reason to be nervous.  These representatives represent districts that would be more than happy to vote for a Republican -- they just need to find the right Republican.  

And here's the hidden story of Tuesday's results.  Aside from netting two more governors' mansions, the Republicans have a more excited base to contend with and, most importantly of all, a strong argument to use in candidate recruitment.  Some of the candidate who ran on the Republican side in the 2008 elections were laugh-out-loud choices.  Stronger candidates passed on those races because they looked back at 2006 and looked forward to 2008, saw the writing on the wall, and decided to keep their powder dry.  That's the second thing that's gone now.  After Bill Foster won a special election in 2008 and captured the seat of former Speaker of the House Dennis Hastert, Democrats were optimistic.  When that victory was followed by the special election victories of Don Cazayoux in Louisiana (subsequently defeated in the 2008 general election) and Travis Childers of Mississippi, it was hard to ignore that a Democrat wave was building.  By winning two governorships on Tuesday night, Republicans have demonstrated that they can be viable again and can use that viability in candidate recruitment. 

While Obama has a healthy majority in the House of Representatives, I very much doubt that anyone on his team wants to suffer through a heavy loss of seats.  But given the nature of some of these Congressional districts, I have a hard time believing there will not come a point where the voters of some of the districts currently occupied by Democrats in the House of Representatives will not revert to more traditional form.  

One last point and I'll move on.  A theory is being floated around that, during the Bush years, a number of Republican voters felt such a sense of shame or isolation from the Republican party that, instead of self-identifying as Republicans, they identified as Independents.  As a result, the sample of current "Independents" is currently skewed more rightward than they traditionally would be.  Even if that's the case, it's still an issue for Democrats.  No matter what the secret underlying electoral philosophies of Independents are, what matters the most is the lever they pull in the ballot box. 

2 "Candidates matter and the candidates who lost on Tuesday ran lousy campaigns."

This is the flip side of the "Obama is so doomed" argument.  This is what Democrats who are feeling gloomy can console themselves with.  

It is widely acknowledged that Creigh Deeds, who was the Democratic nominee for Governor in Virginia, ran a weak, poor campaign.  Not only did his opponent run a sharp, focused campaign but Deeds compounded matters by running a flat out bad campaign.  While his opponent was articulating policy positions, Deeds focused on a master's thesis in which McDonnell took the position that working women were detrimental to the family.  That largely seemed to be his argument.  "That's it!  That's the difference!  That's how we're better than the other guy!"  Well, sure, maybe if that kind of bombshell came out in the last week of the race and it was a one point race, this would be the kind of thing to drive up the numbers in the Democratic base, educated voters and women.  But McDonnell's thesis was unearthed in late summer.  Deeds was still making this a focal point by the last days of the campaign.  I paid attention to Deeds's race.  Hell, I volunteered on Deeds's race and I still struggle to talk about any significant reason why Deeds should have won over McDonnell outside of the thesis.  

The problem was the reverse in New Jersey.  New Jersey voters knew Jon Corzine and flat out didn't like him.  Throughout the race, his approval ratings hovered in the 30s.  He had a string of broken promises behind him, such as failing to lower property taxes.  

Add in the fact that the Democratic candidate who won in the 23rd District of New York (more on that later) was solidly of the ideology and philosophy of his district and, case closed!  All politics is local! Besides, Democrats can argue, it's not like the states have any influence on what passes in Congress or who is sent to Washington, DC and state elections are decided on state matters, not national matters.  In fact, if you look at the two people who were elected to federal office on Tuesday night, both are Democrats.  It's hard to interpret the results of Tuesday night as a repudiation of the federal government when the ranks of Democrats in Congress are +2, with a net yield of +1.  

Not so fast.  

Two big important points come up here.  First of all, looking at recent elections is instructive. Personality deficient governors and governors running states that have been struggling have been able to win in recent years.  The fact that Rod Blagojevich was, ahem, suspect, was not exactly the best kept secret in the world when he won re-election in 2006.  The Democrat governors Ted Strickland won election in Ohio, Chet Culver won election in Iowa and Jennifer Granholm of Michigan, Jim Doyle of Wisconsin and Ed Rendell of Pennsylvania won re-election in 2006 when Rust Belt states were suffering.  But part of what swept all of these governors along was the gale force of the 2006 elections and running against Bush.  As I already said, Bush is no longer a relevant weapon in the Democratic arsenal.   To say that all politics is local ignores the fact that, for example, in 2006, politics were not local.  

This argument is counterbalanced by 2002, where Democrats scored a net gain of eight governors' mansions.  The main issue driving voters, however, in 2002 was terrorism and national defense, issues that rarely cross a governor's desk.  In the 2010 election, the issue likely to be the most important to voters, if present conditions stand, is going to be the economy.  And the economy, coupled with shrinking state budgets, deficits, spending freezes and possible raised taxes, is very much an issue that faces governors.  

Some might say, "Well, so what?  So what if Democrats lose governors' races in 2010?  That doesn't affect what happens on Capitol Hill."  Putting aside all relevant policy points, the necessity for Obama to have advocates at the state level, the possibility of any healthcare reform that includes a public option having an opt-out measure, etc., there is one vital reason for election watchers to care about what happens to governorships in 2010.  In 2010, the United States Census will complete their decennial census.  After that census, state legislatures will have to redraw congressional districts, which will need to be signed into law by state governors. 

As things presently stand, the following states are projected to lose Congressional representation in 2012:  OH (-2), IA (-1), IL (-1), LA (-1), MA (-1), MI (-1), MN (-1), MO (-1), NJ (-1), NY (-1), PA (-1). The following states are projected to gain Congressional representation in 2012:  TX (+4), AZ (+2), FL (+2), GA (+1), NV (+1), SC (+1), UT (+1).  

Leaving out Iowa (Iowa redistricts by nonpartisan panels), each one of these states redistricts by the legislative process.  Of the states that are losing seats, New Jersey, Louisiana and Missouri do not have governors up for re-election in 2010.  Of those three states, only Missouri will be controlled by a Democratic governor during the redistricting process and, thus, will be the only state where the possibility of forcing two Republicans into the same district or eliminating a Republican district upon the retirement of a Republican is likely.  By 2010, both Louisiana and New Jersey will be represented by Republicans, thus making it more likely that any redistricting will be done in a way that protects Republican districts and harms Democratic districts (New Jersey has a strong Democratic state legislature, and thus a bulwark exists).  The remaining seven states all have governors up for re-election in 2010.  Of these, only one (Minnesota) presently has a Republican governor.  In 2010, in addition to Minnesota, both Michigan and Pennsylvania will have open seats and open seats are tougher battles than protecting incumbents.  As if that were not enough, the governors of Ohio and Iowa are already facing tough polling, while the incumbent governors of New York, Michigan, and Massachusetts are facing poll numbers that are even tougher.  If voters want to change the course of the economy via the ballot box in 2010, Democrats could face a very tough time retaining control of these governorships.   

As if that were not enough, of the seven states projected to gain Congressional seats, all, with the exception of Florida and Nevada, strongly voted for John McCain in 2008.  Not only that, all seven states presently have Republican governors.  In 2010, Florida, Georgia and South Carolina are presently going to have open seats.  While the incumbents in Arizona and Nevada are deeply unpopular, it assumed that neither will survive their Republican primary.  

This is why winning governorships in 2010 is, from an election perspective, critically important to Democrats.  Given that the majority of losses of Congressional seats in 2012 will come from states that are currently governed by Democrats and that the majority of gains of Congressional seats in 2012 will go to states that are currently governed by Republicans, in order to, at best, minimize losses, the Democrats cannot afford to lose too many governors' mansions in the 2010 election cycle. In addition, states that do not have a net gain or loss of seats in 2012 will have to reapportion their districts in order to ensure proportionate representation.  In doing so, districts can be drawn in such a way that vulnerable incumbents lose voting blocs that favor them and gain voting blocs that disfavor them.  Retaining governors' mansions is one of the single most important factors in securing a long-lasting Democratic majority.  

3. "Ideological purity in the parties is the way to go."  "Ideological purity leads to an intraparty firing squad."

Everyone focused their eyes on the 23rd District of New York in this past election.  The Congressional seat came open because President Obama appointed long-serving Congressman John McHugh to the position of Secretary of the Army. 

In a nutshell, the following happened:  After McHugh's selection as Secretary of the Army was announced, 11 Republican leaders in the 23rd District of New York got together and chose Assemblywoman Dede Scozzafava as their nominee.  Passed over in the nominating process was Conservative Party candidate Doug Hoffman, who has the added distinction of not living in the 23rd District.  Hoffman decided to run as a third party candidate.  Democrats nominated attorney Bill Owens.  

All party hell broke loose on the Republican side when Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh, Sarah Palin and others realized that Scozzafava had a voting record in the State Assembly of being pro-choice and pro-gay marriage, as well as a few other liberal positions (while blithely dismissing the areas in which she was to the right of her colleagues in the State Assembly).  The far-right revolted and subjected Assemblywoman Scozzafava to such abuse that, the Saturday before the election, she suspended her campaign and the Sunday before the election, she endorsed the Democrat.  Doug Hoffman then received the full backing of the Republican party, even though he showed a complete lack of concrete understanding of the issues facing the 23rd District.  In the final contest between the Democratic party candidate and the Conservative party candidate on Election Day, Democrat Bill Owens captured the seat for the Democrats for the first time in about 150 years.  

There are several things to take from this.  The first is, once again, a reminder that all politics can be local.  Voters in the 23rd District had already demonstrated enough of a trust and belief in Assemblywoman Scozzafava to send her to the State Assembly time and again.  They knew her, they liked her, and I'm pretty confident that they did not enjoy watching their favored candidate get ripped to shreds by outsiders demanding party purity.  Similarly, I don't think that voters in the 23rd District of New York viewed the race as a chance to tell Obama off (at least not yet).  Doug Hoffman, as a candidate, displayed a very flimsy grasp of the issues that were of importance to the 23rd District of New York, including the necessity of securing earmarks for the district's Ft. Drumm.  He ran largely as an ideologue, while Bill Owens ran as someone who was "of" the district and "for" the district.  He displayed an understanding of the issues important to the district's residents and, to my mind, that is why he is en route to Congress today.  

The takeaway from this, distressingly, for both sides seems to be, "Run further to the right!" or "Run further to the left!" in order to motivate the base.  I don't think either one is the answer.  I think the answer is more in the fine print than it is in the bigger ideological picture.  The point from this smorgasbord of elections seems to be that legislators are going to need to do the hard work of actually connecting to their constituents and listening to their concerns, rather than hiding behind a big, ideological push to count on getting them across the finish line. 

The number one concern cited by most voters in exit polls on Tuesday was, shockingly (not really), jobs and the economy.  For all the sturm and drang coming out of Washington, DC these days, healthcare ranked a distant fourth in terms of the top concerns motivating voters.  While I do not disagree that health care is an important issue that demands immediate attention, I do pause to consider what, exactly, the current occupants of the White House and the Congress are doing on the issue of jobs.  Bob Herbert of the New York Times has been sounding the alarm on the need for those in Washington to do something comprehensive, in lines with a sweeping jobs bill, for some time now.  It might be worth starting to listen to him. 

Ultimately, the results in the governors' races might end up not mattering, as some have argued.  But there is a growing national sense of frustration brewing over the "change" that voters voted in in 2008.  The tempest might be relatively small now, but it's brewing.  And, this time, Democrats don't have the same tools they had in the last two elections. 

 

A Vacation While Unemployed, Or You Really Can Go Home Again

There's a widespread cliche about Midwesterners.  

The cliche is well known, oft-repeated and falls off the lips right away as soon as I tell someone not from the Midwest that I'm from the Midwest. 

"Oh, I've always heard that Midwesterners are really, REALLY nice...." 

Well, kids, I'm here to report, yes, yes they are.  Midwesterners are amazingly nice.  

Recently, I spent three weeks in the Midwest on a vacation of sorts.  I realize the concept of a "vacation" while on unemployment might hint at a sort of disconnect, especially if you're a Republican member of the House of Representatives or Ronald Reagan's dead body.  But, yes, yes, Virginia, even unemployed people need to take vacations and that's exactly what I did.  

I started my Midwestern jaunt in the fair city of Madison, WI, eventually made my way over to Milwaukee, WI, went back to Madison, headed down to Chicago, IL, went back to my hometown with my parents after they got in from an international flight, went BACK to Madison, went back home, and finally, eventually flew out of Madison. 

I learned (or re-learned) a few things on the way.  Here are my lessons from the road. 

(a)  Yes, you can go home again.  

In all fairness, I had a childhood straight out of a 1950's television sitcom.  My parents have a strong, loving marriage.  I have four fantastic, terrific siblings (more on that later).  I grew up eating food that was largely locally grown and raised.  I went to perfectly fine public schools (for high school -- 1st to 6th grade were all at the local private Catholic school) where no one ever brought a gun to class (unless it was deer hunting season, in which case, all bets were off).  In all seriousness, second semester of my senior year of high school, a rumor went around that one person had smoked pot, and my reaction was that of a scandalized school marm.  "Are you serious?"  (clutches pearls)

But, in the words of Michael Cunningham in his fantastic book "Flesh and Blood," I felt "larger inside myself" and wanted something bigger, different, MORE.  In hindsight, I can only kind of wince/smile at the young version of me, and think, "Oh boy, kid....you have no idea what you're asking for....", but at the same time, I think every person should be faithful to who they were at a certain point in time, and that's who I was then.  

With that sentiment in mind, I hit out, went to college in Madison, and moved to DC a short while after graduating.  

"So long, suckers!" rang in my ears as I headed East.   

But with time comes maturity and with time comes a degree of mellowing out.  And with time comes a heavy dose of perspective.   

In short?  Over time, you learn to, as the doctors would say, "Get over yourself." 

As much as I didn't want to be at home when I was in high school, I look forward to it now.  There's something about where my parents live that is relaxing and comforting to me in a way now that it wasn't when I lived there.  Part of that is due, in no small part, to familiarity and being a change of pace.  Of course -- that's obvious.  

But it's bigger than that.  

With time, there comes a realization that there are things that are bigger and more fundamental -- or smaller, but no less fundamental.  The older I've gotten, the more I've derived joy from the more basic things.  While bright lights and loud music might have made me say, in true Paris Hilton style, "That's hot!" when I was younger, I have no patience for that now.  These days, there's something so satisfying about going with my mom out to my parents' farm and working in their garden.  And while there is a certain degree of amazement in terms of working with the land and engaging in physical activity and seeing what you can grow as you gather it, there's something even more satisfying in having someone you love ask for a favor ("Can you come out to the garden and help me pick vegetables?") and saying "Yes," with no questions asked.  And that's the important part -- as much as you give, you get back in return. 

And there's more I love about going home.  I never really get to see the sky in DC.  The sky in rural Wisconsin is gorgeous.  The air in Wisconsin is different than it is here.  And then there are the people.  Everyone seems so nice and happy and cool with their lives that I almost felt like Margaret Mead observing a rare, exotic tribe.  (*scribbles furiously in notes*  "Just spotted the female of the species heading to the supermarket...she looks like she's about to pick up some iceberg lettuce...")

I never predicted I would have this kind of reaction to being home, but, well, it's a brave new world, right? 

(b)  Never underestimate the power of siblings. 

I'm the oldest of five children.  The age gap between myself and my youngest sibling is eleven years.  We all grew up together in a house that, at the time, was a smidge too small for all of us.  We were in each others' faces constantly and saw each other at our worst, at our best, and everything in between.  If you had told me years ago how deep my respect for my siblings would be, I would have been surprised.  And if you had told me how my siblings would be stronger educating, solid forces for me than I could ever imagine being for them, I'd have been even more surprised.  But, again, here were are....

When I first got back to Madison, I stayed with my youngest brother.  He and I talked on the second day I was there and he told me a story about how he had saved a young, newborn rabbit from the middle of the road, and listening to him, my heart broke into about a million pieces.  It was so great just sitting there and listening and being really proud of the young man he's become. 

I saw two of my other brothers while I was home.  The brother of mine who is closest to me in age is expecting a baby soon, and he had a baby shower while I was there.  He pulled up next to me at one point during the shower and said, "I guess this isn't like the parties you see in DC, huh?"  and I said, "Yeah, but I prefer this far more," and he smiled and looked at me.  I think he's going to be an excellent father and I couldn't be more happy for him.  My other brother lives in Milwaukee and I went and visited him for a few days.  The entire time I was with him, I was really happy to be around him and I thought he was doing fantastic for himself.  As I said to my mom when I got back to my hometown, "You know, I think he's really proud of his life.....and you know what?  He should be.  Because I'm really proud of him." 

And then there's my sister.  I think the world of her.  I trust her, I like her, I think she's incredible....she's just flat out amazing.  

I am incredibly blessed.  I was raised with and I am friends with four people I think the highest of in the world.  I could not ask for more. 

(c)  Old friends are sometimes the best friends.

While I was home, I hooked up with a lot of friends I haven't seen/talked to in awhile, but have talked to again because of Facebook. 

The first friend I met up with was a long time friend from my campaign days.  Things just flowed from there.  While in Madison, I met up with a good friend from high school with whom I had a falling out, but have reconnected with; a whole posse of college friends; a good friend who lives in Milwaukee now; two other women I knew from Capitol Hill; a woman I worked with in the State Assembly; and met up for beers with a woman I knew from my freshman year in my dorm.  In Chicago, I met up with a guy I knew from Capitol Hill; had a wonderful and hysterical lunch with an amazing woman I knew from Capitol Hill; and stayed with a woman I had known in DC who was a fantastic, hilarious hostess. 

All in all, each and every person I saw made me feel welcome, loved, and grateful to know them.  

The best, though, was the night I spent with five out of the seven guys I lived with my senior year of college, plus a wonderful friend and her husband.  We had a great time together, and I felt like I got to catch up with each of them and I was happy for that. 

(d)  With death comes a journey.

While I was home, my mother's brother's father-in-law died.  I never really knew him, but from all I've heard, he was a great man.  

Because I was home, and my mom was going to the funeral, I went as well.  It was a nice (albeit sad) chance to see my aunts, uncles, cousins and grandmother. 

At the gravesite, they played the song "I've Been Loved By the Best" by Don Williams.  

Later, my mom said, "That was a nice farewell to his widow, no?"   And I had to disagree. 

Because, as I stood there, with my grandmother on my arm, and looking at my mom, my aunts, uncles and cousins and thinking about everyone I had seen thus far, and thinking about everyone I would be seeing in coming days, I couldn't help but think of how blessed I have been.  

And, as I kind of teared up, my grandmother turned to me and said, "That was a good song, don't you think?" and I said, "Yeah....." 

So, I guess maybe now I finally have felt larger inside myself. 

Falling Down, Or Getting Up Again.

Sometimes, I miss Masterpiece Theater. 

When I was in high school, I was a big fan of Masterpiece Theater.  

I adored whatever Masterpiece Theater had to offer on Sunday nights.  Some weeks, it would be Helen Mirren as Jane Tennisson in the 'Prime Suspect' series.  Other weeks, it would be some stuffy British piffle, like an adaptation of 'Middlemarch.'  

Other times, the sensibility that drove me to Masterpiece Theater gave me incentive to visit other channels.  I watched PBS air, the summer I was sixteen, 'Longtime Companion,' and came to terms with being gay.  When I was 12, I camped out in front of the TV for hours and watched WGN air 'Amadeus.'  And when I was 16, I TOTALLY GOT Helena Bonham Carter's dilemma in 'A Room With a View' in being torn between selfish prig Daniel Day-Lewis and sexy Julian Sands (while staring at her cinematic brother, Rupert Graves).  Fast forward to the 9:00 mark to see the scene I played over and over again and silently sighed to at that age.  

When I was asked to write a book report in high school, I asked if I could write about 'Howard's End,' and read the book and then watched the movie and fainted on the fainting couch after both.  When a friend asked me to write a book report for her in high school, I shrugged and wrote one on 'The Age of Innocence,' which I had been wanting to read anyway.  

In part, I loved Masterpiece Theater for two reasons.  First off, once the local news was over, I got to "stay up late" and watch 'Siskel and Ebert' and keep journals on what their rankings were on various films.  Siskel and Ebert recommended a motley crew of films that I watched throughout my college years and my parents fanned the flames of my love of film by giving me that small indulgence.  

And at the same time, I think your love of film at a certain age gives a peek in to who you are.  While I watched Masterpiece Theater, my brother was in to 'Goodfellas' and 'The Godfather.'  And, these days, while I'm more likely to say, "Well, that's not the proper thing to do!," he will say, "That's an insult to the family!".   While I look the other way when you spill jam on the new doily, he'll stab you in the trunk of your car.   

Why is this coming up now? 

It's coming up now, because, if I really sit down and remember, high school was gruesome and painful.  I remember being the only hearing impaired gay kid in my high school, and, man, oh fucking man, did I pay the consequence.  

There were a lot of things that happened that weren't okay.  I don't really see a great degree of benefit of going in to details.  This discussion stops largely at this point and you'll have to take my word for it. 

The funny thing is when I look back.  I see all of the horrible things as some kind of larger smog that looms above it all.  But, under the surface, I see, for instance, Masterpiece Theater.  I was so naive and so sheltered that sitting around and watching Masterpiece Theater on Sunday nights, followed by Siskel and Ebert gave me great comfort.  I remember making some good friends as I came out of the worst days of high school and in to the light.  I remember my parents' neighbors having a great big backyard deck and how funny and happy my parents' neighbor always was and how much she made me laugh on summer nights when we hung out on their back patio.  I remember my mom saying to me, one day, after a tough day, "Oh, honey, I will never be hard on you....because you're the one who is always the hardest on yourself."  

It's funny to look back, and to think I push down all of the worst memories I have and remember only the best. 

College followed, and college, in a word, rocked.  

I loved college.  LOVED it.  My world lit up.  

I remember one morning, around 8 AM, during finals week, I ran in to a girl I had hung out with a bunch of times in bars, as I was on the way to studying for finals. 

She said, "Uh, hi...." and then laughed an embarrassed laugh. 

I said, "Well, hello....." 

She said, "I, um, was about to go get a cookie at Jamie's Cookies...." 

I said, "What a coincidence....me too." 

We got cookies together and then walked to the library together and spent the rest of the day talking, hanging out, etc., during "study breaks."   

Since then, she has been one of my best friends and I think she'll always be one of my best friends. 

But as much as there are great memories from college, it wasn't entirely easy.  

There were moments of pure frustration.  For example, when I lived in my freshman dorm and felt overwhelmed by the other kids in my hall.  The day I got a 'D' in Algebra and sobbed in the stairwell of the Math Building.  The moments where I felt overwhelmed and scared. 

But until the day it got easier, I got up, every day, and said, "It will get easier." 

And, suddenly, it did. 

All of a sudden, I was surrounded by really good friends.  All of a sudden, I was clicking and thinking in school.  And all of a sudden, school made sense and I got it.  

After college, I worked in my college town for a bit and then I moved out to DC. 

I moved out to DC and things were tough.  In my first year here, I worked in a job I loved, but in which I made no money.  I lived in a rough neighborhood.  I got mugged and learned that when human bodies come in to contact with concrete at a certain velocity, they do, IN FACT, bounce.  I went through 9/11.  I tested positive for exposure to anthrax.  

But if I look back, what I think of from that time period is the people I met.  I remember the adventures I had.  I remember working in the United States Senate and how lucky I felt every day.  I remember meeting people from all corners of the world and how amazed I was to feel like that. 

Fast forward a few years.  

This past spring, I was working at my place of employment and a supervisor came to me and told me I would be laid off. 

Oh. 

I was told I would get severance lasting until the end of July.   

For the first few months, it seemed like a bit of a dream.  People would say, "You're going to be fine," and I would say, "Yes, I know."  

But it never seemed really THAT real. 

And then the first of July hit, and I met with former mentors from my first job in DC.  All of them were fantastic and wonderful and supportive.   

And one day, after meeting with the last of them, I got home.  And I shut down. 

I just stopped. 

For about five days, I didn't get up off my couch.  One day just blended into the next.  If I didn't have food in my fridge, I ordered out.  I watched all kinds of crappy TV.   

I snoozed every now and again and watched on TV whatever was on when I woke up.  

Around then, a friend called me for coffee. 

We met up and she asked, "So, how are you?" 

"I'm fine.....I'm FINE....I just keep sending out resumes and it seems to go in to some big black hole and no one sees them and I just sit here and wonder if I have some big typo on my resume that everyone but ME can see, but I'm FINE." 

"So, um, are you okay?" 

"No....yes.....no...yes....I just want it to get better, you know?" 

We had a long talk and then I went home.  Around 5 AM, I woke up.   After pacing my apartment for a few hours, I went for a walk. 

I walked down 17th Street and turned down Connecticut Avenue. 

I had my iPod. 

"What's the matter with you?  You've been down all day.  What happened to you to make you feel that way?"  by Urge Overkill.  

I headed towards the White House. 

"That I would be good, even if I did nothing; that I would be good even if I got the thumbs down; that I would be good if I got and stayed sick" by Alanis Morisette. 

I walked past the White House and headed to the National Mall. 

Maybe, it'll be all right.  Maybe it'll all be okay.  Well, if the people are buying tears, I'll be rich someday, Ma.  by Melanie.  

I walked down the National Mall for a bit, and then found a seat where I sat down and finally breathed. 

I realized that I had been through hard times before which I had looked favorably upon in retrospect.  I realized that for every cloud, yes, yes, there is a freaking silver lining.  

And, as I looked at the Capitol to my front and the White House to the back, with the various helicopters floating overhead and the sun coming up and the start of the hum of the traffic, I thought, "You'll be fine." 

"You'll be fine."  

"You'll be fine."  

I'll be fine. 

A Love Letter To DC, Or Why 'The Real World' Should Get Lost.

I am a native of the great state of Wisconsin.  

I love my home state.  There is nothing that will supplant that affection.  But, in all fairness, I have another boyfriend. 

I have lived in Washington, DC since 2001.  In that time, I've had my ups and I've had my downs and so has my beloved adopted city.  Together we've laughed, cried and grown.  

We were both rattled by the events of 9/11 and the subsequent anthrax attacks.  We both cheered to the point of losing our minds over the electoral takeovers of Congress by Democrats in 2006 and the election of Barack Obama to the White House two years later.  

Like me, DC is constantly growing and changing.  Neighborhoods that were in ruin and desolate when I first moved here are now host to hip, chic restaurants and sky rocketing rents.  14th Street, which was a no man's land in 2001, is now one of the "go-to" locations of the city.  And just like I continue to surprise myself by finding hidden reservoirs of strength and peace, the same applies to DC.  I can walk in almost any direction in the city and find a neighborhood, a park, a bar, a restaurant, and say, "I didn't know this was here..." and find a new way to smile. 

DC is home to some of the most fantastic architecture I have ever encountered in the world.  For some reason, we have a strange fascination with turrets and with having each row house on a block painted a different color, but painted in a different color in a way that has a strange synthesis with each other.  Our streets are lined with verdant green trees and oodles of character. 

In short, I love this city, and, even if I ever do leave some day, in a strong way, I'll always be here. 

When I first moved to DC, it was right as the tech bubble was bursting.  A large number of my friends left college and moved to San Francisco.  San Francisco was oh-so-hip, oh-so-wonderful, such a candyland of fun and fashion and devil-may-care sensibilities.  

Not me.  I headed east and landed in DC.  

I understood I wanted to be in a city that would further my adventures in my first love:  politics.  I had worked on a campaign as my first job after college, and I will never forget the absolute rush of the experience.  It was an important point in my life where I not only felt thrillingly alive, but, as Michael Cunningham described a character in the book 'Flesh and Blood', "larger inside of myself." 

As I first settled into DC, I realized I had a home.  I was among my people.  I was with the nerds. 

It will come as no great shock to anyone that I was not cool in high school.  Yes, sometimes I resorted to taping together my glasses.  Yes, sometimes I carried a Trapper Keeper.  No, I did not do sports, and yes, I did do high school drama.  Yes, I never missed an episode of 'My So-Called Life' and, yes, if asked in class, I could name all the state capitols.  

While this might have been tragic and unseemly where I grew up and might have been an odd curiosity in my college town, oh, in DC?  It was a wonderful, beautiful thing!  Because I suddenly was among people who could not only name all the state capitols but who could also fill me in on the capitol of Sierra Leone and then break down the particulars of that country's legislative process.  

After San Francisco's brutal burn out as the "hippest city on Earth," fueled by techies sobbing into their worthless shares and the scent of ever present public urination, America grasped for a new fix, a new HIP, wonderful city. 

NEW YORK!!!

Enter, New York. 

Fashion!  Art!  Culture!  And most importantly....commerce. 

Oh, those were heady days, weren't they?  Even after the Twin Towers fell, we had 'Sex and the City' to prop us up.  Even as financial markets became more byzantine and silly, as long as everyone was making money, no one cared.  And New York is one hell of a town to be in when you have money.  I said to a friend after one weekend in New York, "I think I spent $300 last night," to which he said, "That's not hard to do here."  New York is a place in which one can do some serious damage in a very short amount of time. 

But suddenly, that stopped being fun.  All that paperless money that was floating around suddenly became more paperless and less money.  Lehmann Brothers went bust.  Markets started crashing.  A tidal wave of home foreclosures and overextended credit slammed into New York like a bad hangover after a night of vodka shots. 

But there was always DC.  Steady, reliable, patient DC.  A city in which the fumes of so many government workers and agencies and bureaucracies ensures one will never truly lose their head.  

DC is the only city I've ever been in in which I have seen not just women workers carrying their office shoes in one hand, with sneakers on their feet, en route to the Metro, but I have seen men do the same as well.  DC is the only city I know in which I can pick a random person out of the room and say, "So, what do you think of the makeup of the Ninth Circuit?", and have them give me an educated, reasoned response.  DC is the only city I know in which the person who makes $25K at a non-profit to end the death penalty will be the most celebrated person in the room.  DC is the only city I know in which being practical isn't dowdy, but fashionable.  

I don't mean to pretend DC is some kind of Amish enclave in which everyone works and stays as serious as a heart attack all the time.  We have a deep commitment to the arts, which thrives from the Smithsonian to the Studio Theater to Artomatic.  We have our fun clubs in the form of the 9:30 Club to the Black Cat to any bar lining the Atlas District.  We have fun bookstores (Kramer Books) and fun coffee shops (Tryst).  We have fun, people. 

But, DC, like me, likes to be left alone. 

DC is a transient city, but so are all major urban epicenters.  But DC, more than any other city I know, is defined most heavily by its industry, and here, that industry is government. 

As a former Capitol Hill staffer, I know the rules.  Keep your mouth shut, stay out of the press, the only person that does the talking is the Member of Congress/Cabinet Secretary or their press agent.  I'm fine with that.  I've always been more of a "behind the scenes" kind of guy.  I have never had a yen to be famous.  Sure, I want to be popular, and hell yeah, I want to be liked, but famous often leads to infamous and I've feared that kind of backlash as much as anyone else. 

DC is often defined by who occupies the White House.  When I first moved here, Bush had a very vocal disdain of this city.  As a city, the feeling was mutual.  Bush, with his 5 PM bedtime (or whatever it was) shut down the social life of this town.  The city took on a flavor of "Texas," which was not becoming to our East Coast by the way of the South sensibilities.  I remember when I worked on the Hill, one of the Capitol trade newspapers published a gossip item on a huge SUV that was triple parked on Maryland Avenue.  The vehicle was big, ostentatious and seemingly without an owner, as the DC police couldn't find a way to get rid of it.  The license plates were from Texas.  As a co-worker of mine said, "Of course, it's from Texas."  

I mean no offense to my friends and family in Texas.  I'm sure that the state with one of the highest death penalty rates in the country is perfectly lovely and charming.  I have heard great things about Austin.  And the people I know there are terrific, smart, fantastic people.  But Texas and DC did not jibe well together. 

But DC was okay with that.  See, we just wanted to be left alone and do our business. 

But then, the new guy came to town.  And Barack Obama, with his wandering childhood and his lack of concrete roots didn't bring Illinois with him to DC.  He came alone. 

Part of the issue has to do with the financial meltdown.  As finance and banking began to look less and less practical, suddenly, DC, with its "impossible-to-get-fired-from" government jobs seemed positively alluring.  But another part has to do with Obama's message on the campaign trail about the importance of service.  Suddenly, people of my generation, who turned out in droves for Obama at volunteer stops and the polls, found the idea of working in the public stead sexy and exhilarating.  All of a sudden, the city in which the only follow-up question to "What is your name?" is "And what do you do?" took on a certain charm. 

Enter 'The Real World.'  

As many of you know, 'The Real World,' MTV's 'reality' series about twenty-somethings doing very unreal things has decided to come to my fair city.  The reaction amongst my friends has been positively vitriolic.  

There seems to be a sense of invasion.  A sense of "I was here before it was cool, so step off."  Or "We've been playing Dungeons and Dragons down here for years, so why is the prom queen suddenly showing up?" 

I suppose, perhaps, we should be more inviting.  We are definitely a city that is more Southern than Eastern.  We should muster a polite smile, an extended hand and a "And how are you today?  And what is your name?  And what do you do?" 

But there is something about 'The Real World' coming to DC that grates.  As anyone who has lived here long enough knows, we're a bit rough around the edges.  We're not fashionable.  We're not cool.  We're bruisers and like to get in loud, cathartic fights about fine points of policy that make no sense to 99% of the population.  

But we like that.  And suddenly asking us to be hip and cool is like taking the tape off our glasses, removing the Trapper Keeper and telling us we need to throw the winning touchdown at the big state game. 

We're not like that and we don't want to be. 

A Clown In The Senate, Or The Swearing In Of Al Franken.

There was a palatable sense of disappointment in the Senate this past week. 

The Senate welcomed it's newest member in Al Franken and the media seemed upset that he didn't arrive with a big bozo wig, whoopee cushions and a pie to slam into the face of Joe Biden. 

There seemed to be an almost discernable disappointment that Franken entered the office of Senator as a serious individual.  My nemesis, Politico, practically lamented the severity with which now Senator Franken untook his task.   The Washington Post almost decried the lack of humor.  The Minneapolis Star Tribune seemed a touch crestfallen over their new Senator's approach to decorum.  Even Talking Points Media, a HUGE Franken fan, took a moment to mourn his more funny moments.  

The odd thing, to my mind, is why this is such a surprise. 

First of all, we're talking about a man who won, not only a state-wide campaign, but a series of difficult legal challenges.  Outside of the rigors of running for an elected office, the stamina it takes to survive serious legal challenges while (presumptively) exhausted after a long campaign are not insignificant.  

Secondly, I think it bears looking at what Al Franken did in his career prior to his current political career.  He authored a few very smart, very funny books ("Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them:  A Fair and Balanced Look at the Right" and "Rush Limbaugh Is A Big Fat Idiot").  

The titles are bomb throwers.  Al Franken's run at 'Air America' was similarly bomb-throwing, but at the same time, he was still thoughtful and smart and critical.  

He wasn't espousing ideas here that would have barred him from public office.  Quite the opposite -- he was setting up ideas to pose himself as a populist alternative. 

An issue has come up that Al Franken is a comedian, and, thus, that disqualifies him as a politician.  

This argument wholly ignores three facts.  First off, Franken has always been, as he has said, more of a satirist than a comedian.  Secondly, Franken's mark has been made largely as a five time Emmy winning writer of 'Saturday Night Live', rather than a performer.  The task of being a writer is tougher than the task of being a performer.  And, finally, Franken's creations have a tarter, stronger quality than most other made up characters on 'Saturday Night LIve.' 

Think about it -- do the lazy slackers Wayne and Garth have the same resonance today that the self-doubting, therapy-needing Stuart Smalley has?  In today's confused world, which one is more timeless? 

I know that, with Barack Obama enjoying favorability ratings that are sky high, the Republican party is desperate for a politician upon whom to direct their ire.  The right needs a poster child of Democratic excess and profligacy.  For the longest time, Senator Edward Kennedy was such a target, but with his recent health struggles, beating up on him feels beyond insensitive.  Hillary Clinton was such a target as First Lady, but now commands deep and strong respect.  Other Democrats, such as Barbara Boxer or Sheldon Whitehouse aren't well known enough outside of the Beltway and are good fits for their states.  Harry Reid comes off as too timid to be a menacing threat. 

With Al Franken, Republicans are clearly hoping that he will come into office with a personality that is loud, crude and abrasive.  

The problem for Republicans appears to be that, through his recount experience and during his (very early) days in office, he has been subdued, studious and serious.  This is due in no small part to Al Franken's brain power and political smarts, but also to another factor.  

The Senate has been described, above all other terms, as something of a "club."  It is a club run on seniority.  Flashy, thunder-stealing freshmen who have no sense of place or respect for their elders don't get much accomplished.   

The perfect model for this was the entry into the Senate by Hillary Clinton.  This was another example of Republicans licking their chops, thinking they would have the perfect caricature of an over-the-top Democrat.  

But Hillary Clinton was smarter than that.  She worked hard.  She forged alliances with Republican Senators.  She accepted her place in the pecking order of more senior Democrats.  

While the differences between Al Franken and Hillary Clinton are vast (I have no recollection of Hillary Clinton doing a Mick Jagger impersonation, just like I have no memory of Al Franken taking substantive policy positions as First Lady), what I think we're seeing is a replication of that model.

Al Franken is being smart.  He's biding his time.  And he knows exactly where he is.  

Autopsy Of A Meltdown, Or Exiting Stage Right.

As many of you no doubt know by now, late night comic Sarah Palin has decided to give up her day job. 

Sarah Palin, the current, but not much longer, Governor of Alaska gave on Friday a press conference that seemed almost to be a direct challenge to Governor Mark Sanford.  It appeared as though the Thrilla From Wasilla woke up and thought to herself, on the topic of rambling, erratic, incoherent press conferences that, "Nobody puts baby in the corner!!  NOBODY!!". 

Let's go to the tape, shall we? 

First of all, I would like to point out the delicious hypocrisy of a woman who has cried foul over the use of her family as props for comics' crass jokes appearing at a press conference about her political future, surrounded by...her family looking like props. 

As we all know by now, Sarah Palin has a somewhat slippery grasp on the concept of the truth.  The first manifestation of that came here: 

"And you know me by now, I promised even four years ago to show MY independence...no more conventional "politics as usual.""

The use of the phrase "four years ago" might be technically correct.  Four years ago MIGHT be when Sarah Palin first decided to run for the office of Governor of Alaska.  It MIGHT have been when she first decided to share her goals with the world.  But four years is also the length of a Governor's term in office (how about that!), and there almost seems to be a bit of wool being pulled over the eyes here.  A casual observer, looking at this statement, might almost be fooled into thinking that Sarah Palin has finished a full term in office. 

The thing is, she didn't.  She was, according to her official Governor's office bio, sworn into office on December 4, 2006.  Her current official Governor's office website trumpets, "No Second Term!," with no accompanying asterisk that says, "And Fuck The Rest of the First Term!".   By the end of this month, Sarah Palin will have given her job of Governor, which requires a full four years, a scant 30 months.  This is a fact that seems, God, lost on her or something.  

After taking us through a dissection of myriad accomplishments, she notes, with no hint of irony, "So much success in this first term...."  The first half of this first term, Sarah.  

She starts getting into the red meat at this point.  "I wish you'd hear MORE from the media about your state's progress and how we tackle outside interests -- daily -- SPECIAL interests that would stymie our state."  Yes, here we go.  That fucking media and how it's always keeping Sarah down!  They NEVER give Sarah any credit!  Downtrodden, focused, diligent, quitting Sarah can never get ahead because of the damn media.  

She then launched into an attack on the federal stimulus dollars which were allocated to help save Alaska from facing a budget shortfall.  She concluded with, "...because I know being right is better than being popular", and as I first heard it, honest to God, I swore she had said, "...because I know being WHITE is better than being popular."  I thought that we were just seconds away from watching a thermonuclear racist meltdown on live TV which would have concluded with Sarah proudly marching over to a mailbox and sending in her registration card and a check for $25 to the Ku Klux Klan.  

That would have made more sense than what followed. 

After spending a good period of time detailing how she has been swamped by ethics complaints, resulting in thousands of hours and millions of dollars being spent to combat opposition research, even trilling, "We've won!", Sarah then announces that now that all this money has been spent, the best way to keep from wasting all this (already gone) money...is for her to quit.  

Everything else was just a warm up, because now, blood pumping and juices flowing, Sarah goes, goes full bore, and goes hard.  

If anyone other than Sarah Palin said the following, wouldn't you be shocked and horrified?  But with her, it's just, "Um, yeah...Sarah for you...".  Behold: 

"Life is too short to compromise time and resources...it may be tempting and more comfortable to keep your head down, plod along, and appease those who demand 'Sit down and shut up," but that's the worthless, easy path; that's a quitter's way out.  And a problem in our country is apathy.  It would be apathetic to just hunker down and "go with the flow.  Nah, only dead fish go with the flow." 

Now, I'm not overly familiar with the work habits of dead fish, but if the woman who attended five colleges in the pursuit of a Bachelor's degree and has now quit both the Alaska oil and gas commission (2004) and the governorship (yesterday), is telling us that she is the work horse opposite of a dead fish, maybe it's time for me to reconsider the work ethic of dead fish.  

The blithe dismissal of the perils of "hunkering down" and "getting to work" as "the quitter's way out" in the course of quitting is so fraught with inconsistencies and so completely inane that it's impossible to take the concept seriously. 

After announcing that she would not run for re-election in 2010, she unleashed the following: 

"And so, as I thought about this announcement that I wouldn't run for re-election and what that means for Alaska, I thought about how much fun some governors have as lame ducks...travel around the state, to the Lower 48, overseas on international trade -- as so many politicians do.  And then I thought -- that's what's wrong -- many just accept that lame duck status, hit the road, draw the paycheck and "milk it."" 

And then she announced her resignation. 

Fly in the ointment here, Sarah.  The options are not only, "Quit and go home" or "Be a freeloading grifter."  The idea that you can't be BOTH a lame duck AND an effective executive is wrong.  Flat wrong.  Just because you decide that you aren't going to run for a second term doesn't mean that you have to instantly cave and become the Queen of the Junkets.  

Then this: 

"I've determined it's best to transfer the authority to Lieutenant Governor Parnell; and I am willing to do so that this administration -- with its positive agenda, its accomplishments, and its successful road to an incredible future -- can continue without interruption and with great administrative and legislative success." 

Did you get that?  In order to avoid interruption in her administration, she's going to...end her administration. 

Sarah kept going, and, in her honor, I'm going to use a sports analogy in talking about her sports analogy.  At this point, she rounded second and headed for third.  Or maybe she rounded second and then went into the stands to buy a soft pretzel and a beer: 

"Let me go back to a comfortable analogy for me -- sports...basketball.  I use it because you're naive if you don't see the national full court press picking away right now:  A good point guard drives through a full court press, protecting the ball, keeping her eye on the basket...and she knows exactly when to pass the ball so that the team can WIN." 

And, according to Sarah Palin, once she passes the ball, she abruptly walks off the court and hits the showers. 

Sarah announces that she polled her children and got "four 'yeses', and one "Hell yeah!".  I have two issues here.  As everyone knows, Sarah Palin has five children, thus accounting for the five votes.  But the issue here is that her youngest, Trig, is under the age of two, and suffers from Down Syndrome.  I'm not commenting on the Down Syndrome issue, because I think attacking anyone with disabilities is disgusting and gross.  But am I the only one who is questioning whether a one year old Trig actually weighed in?  Can Trig say the word "yes" yet?  And am I alone in being concerned that Sarah Palin is taking advice from infants? 

And why am I making the automatic dirty thought that maybe the "Hell yeah!" came from the other room, where Bristol was hanging with A-Rod?  Okay, that was crass.  

She goes on (as is her way), talking about going to visit troops in Kosovo and Landstuhl and how their strength, dedication and fortitude motivated her...all together now...to give up.  

And then she gives a shout out to a magnet on her parents' fridge and how it has inspired her approach to this press conference.  Soooooo....in the course of this speech, Sarah Palin has admitted to getting her life guidance from infants AND magnets.  The new face of the GOP, ladies and gentlemen. 

There are so many swirling issues here, and I'm going to attempt, and most likely fail, to get into the weeds on this one. 

First of all, for anyone actually watched the speech, this was not a calm, cool, collected person delivering tough news.  This press conference was delivered by a nervous, panicked, frantic looking woman who gave off the appearance of being a penny ante thief on the lam. 

Secondly, the first thing that struck me was the choice of timing.  A very politically shrewd friend of mine had the exact same thought and sent me an email late last night noting how a Friday afternoon news dump on a holiday weekend is exactly what politicians do when they don't want anyone to pick up on or react to their revelations. 

I'm not entirely sure I agree.  Sarah Palin knows that she's a lightening rod and a source of bizarre fascination on all sides of the aisle.  As anyone with a TV knows, the past week (God, it feels like an exhaustively long time) has been dominated by the death of Michael Jackson (CNN today:  "Michael Jackson!  Still dead!") and what better way to blow into the headlines and dominate on a lazy weekend than announcing now?  Add in the fact that most TV nighttime talk shows are in reruns next week, thus sparing Sarah Palin from being the subject of endless, and I mean ENDLESS monologs, and perhaps the woman has a hint of political wisdom in her yet.  She gets to grab the headlines while avoiding being the butt of jokes. 

Third, I find it horrifically disingenuous that Sarah Palin is carping about her exposure in the media.  From the time she lost the race for Vice President, Sarah Palin has made very strange forays into the national media.  True, she did try to stake out a place as a federalist in rejecting national stimulus dollars.  But outside of that?  What has she done?  Well, she played Madame DeFarge at a famous turkey slaughter.  She got into a tiff with the father of her grandchild after he appeared on 'The Tyra Banks Show.'  She furthered her reputation as a brawler by getting petty and silly with David Letterman after he made a joke about her daughter.  She went back to the fighting well again by yelling at a blogger for doctoring a photo of her with her son (going so far as to call a photo that I have no recollection of ever seeing prior to said fight, "an iconic representation of a mother's love for a special needs child").

Do we detect a theme here? 

Yes.  Sarah vs. the Media.  

Oh, the media.  The fucking, goddamn media.  The media that won't leave Sarah alone.  The media that relentlessly picks on her.  The media that beats her up and leaves her for dead and then comes back and throws in a few more kicks for fun.  THE MEDIA. 

There are a couple of issues here in the royal beef between Sarah and THE MEDIA. 

Sarah of the Wasilla Palins might want to take a few notes from noted Socialist, Muslim, born-on-planet-Krypton-sent-here-by-his-father-Jor-El, President Barack Obama.  

Barack Obama does not flinch.  He does not lose his cool.  He has been subject to far more scrutiny, far many more broadsides and attacks than Sarah Palin has seen in her life.  The same applies to George W. Bush, Bill Clinton and Ronald Reagan. 

Are you hearing me here, Sarah?  Each one of those men became President.  There's going to be criticism when you run for President.  People are going to say mean, rude things about you.    They'll attack your policies, but they'll also hit below the belt.  They'll get you on weird, odd things.  And I think you know this.  Maybe you should have coffee with Hillary Clinton to talk about this?  I don't remember you refraining from screaming at rallies about how Barack Obama was a Socialist who pals around with terrorists when you were running for higher office. 

Added to that is the fact that the fights that you've been picking have been...for lack of a better phrase...kind of fucked up.  You choose to get angry with people who take shots at your kids...and then trot out your kids at any opportunity.  You choose to reject federal stimulus money...at the cost of the best interests of your state.  And aside from complaining about your rough media coverage, you still fail to advance any kind of concrete policy statements.  You engage in petty feuds that seem more well suited to the pages of US Weekly and People than The Atlantic or The New Republic.  You come off as a twelve year old who is mad that she isn't being treated like an adult while trashing your bedroom and saying "It's NOT fair!!!".   Your main policy cause these days seems to be "Fuck the media," which to anyone not involved in politics (i.e. most of the American populace) comes off as whiny, self-serving and kind of masturbatory.  

After positioning herself as the Joan of Arc of the Republican party, bravely taking on the big bad media kids, Republicans across the news had to react.  In short, there has been no better comedy in the past 24 hours than Fox News. 

This morning, I watched Fox News to, well, to be honest, visibly gloat.  And Fox News didn't disappoint.  One of their stories this AM was, "Palin Resigns; Great News for the U.S. Economy?".  After I wiped the tears of laughter from my eyes and focused on the story, I realized they were talking about the idea that Sarah Palin can go out on the trail and become an effective mouth piece for the opposition to Barack Obama's economic politics.  I'm not sure if Fox News and I watched the same press conference, but I wouldn't buy a Sara Lee cheesecake from the woman who delivered that speech, much less an economic plan.  

The reigning argument in Republican circles is that this is Sarah's move to position herself for 2012.  To which I say:  How?  

Yes, this does free her up to travel the lower 48 and campaign on behalf of candidates for the House and the Senate in 2010.  Yes, it does allow her to take speaking fees and pursue that book deal.  Yes, it does let her run for higher office without having to worry about being tied to legislative responsibilities in Alaska. 

But at the end of the day, the biggest bludgeon against Sarah Palin has been that the thinness of her resume made a pre-President Obama's resume look positively robust.  Her quitting and walking away from her job does nothing to rehabilitate this notion.  In fact, it torpedoes it.  With this decision to abandon her office, Sarah Palin makes herself look lazy, uncurious and unwilling to govern.  It raises legitimate questions about why, truly, she would ever really WANT to be President.   

I'm going to wrap up, but there are a few conclusions here. 

First off, it has been tremendous fun to watch DC rouse itself from it's annual three day Fourth of July slumber in order to react to all of this.  Talking heads suddenly appeared in DC, with barbeque stains on the corner of their mouths and beer on their breath, fresh from hailing cabs from Georgetown and Arlington to head downtown to the news studios.  MSNBC brought out a hilarious African-American Republican consultant with a noted facial sweating problem for additional laughs.  'Meet the Press' guests who were planning on getting shit-faced and slumping into the studio in sweatpants to mumble platitudes about how great America is are cursing under their breaths over having to actually be prepared now. 

But secondly, and more important, as I first thought, and Chuck Todd articulated on MSNBC, Sarah Palin is on the cusp of becoming a ridiculously wealthy woman.  Karl Rove can command up to $75,000 per speaking experience.  Sarah Palin will likely command more.  She'll have a book deal, she'll have speaking fees and she'll probably get a TV show at some point. 

And, at the end of the day, when all of the weirdness and calamity about her choice calm down, that was probably the point. 

  

I'm Not Sure If I Know That Woman, Or Laura Bush.

Poor Laura Bush.

I say that with no snarkiness or sarcasm intended. 

I also say it with no intention of going into a wandering missive on, "Why did George W. Bush ruin this nice librarian's life?" 

I'm sure that Laura Bush has more than enough money to sob and sigh into to make any "tough" day a good one.  I'm sure that when things get really gruesome at Chez Bush, Mrs. Bush has plenty of creature comforts to get her through the experience. 

But that said, I can't help feeling for the woman a little bit. 

I suppose that my sentiments are tempered a bit by having finally watched Oliver Stone's "W." this past weekend. 

The movie was fine.  Just fine.  Okay, not great, just fine.  But there was a particularly good scene that stood out more than the others.  The scene took place at a backyard barbeque in Texas and a young, rabble rousing drunkard George W. Bush met a young Laura Welch for the first time. 

Part of the success of the scene is due, in no small part, to the innate sexiness and charisma of the young actress portraying the former First Lady.  Elizabeth Banks essays the role, and in the first scene in which we meet her, there's something kind of raw, kind of sinewy and tough about her.  You can't not look at her and you can understand why Bush the Failure would feel so thunderstruck by her charms.  She has a great line, "What do I do?  I smoke, I read, I watch people,"  (or something to that effect -- the movie has already gone back to Netflix, so I can't double check) that seems to hint at a rich internal life.  

As the film goes on, Laura Bush fades further and further into the woodwork.  It's easy to chalk this up to Oliver Stone not knowing how to direct women (see, e.g. Darryl Hannah in 'Wall Street'), but for the fact that this seems to be what happened in her own real life.  

On the surface, there's not much to know about Laura Bush.  And there's no arguing she had a tough act to follow.  Few First Ladies will ever measure up to the combination of smarts, ambition and toughness that Hillary Clinton showed as First Lady and afterwards.  And as an encore act, Michelle Obama is another difficult entity to overshadow. 

But it goes beyond that.  Barbara Bush, for all of her attempts at blandness, was never quite able to neutralize her sharp tongue and saltiness.  Nancy Reagan was Hillary Clinton before Hillary Clinton was Hillary Clinton.  Rosalynn Carter dined during lunches with her husband and Cabinet advisors.  Betty Ford was bracingly honest about her personal struggles and demons.  

You have to reach as far back as Pat Nixon to find a woman who was as removed as Laura Bush.  And, oddly enough, both women share the fact that even though their husbands left office universally reviled, each was gigantically popular in her own right. 

So, what happened?  Why did Laura Bush fail to leave a real substantive mark?  And, more importantly, how did this young, cigarette-smoking, pro-choice librarian who had high school years marked by tragedy morph into a woman who seems, for all practical purposes, kind of forgettable? 

In a number of ways, Mrs. Bush really isn't as forgettable as she seems.  Her current personal popularity has a lot to do with the fact that she appears so apolitical and, using a term that makes me cringe, "above it all" (it makes me cringe because politics is a fight and to act disinterested or dismissive of politics and the messiness that it entails is, to my mind, blatant laziness).  While her accomplishments during her husband's term were not overwhelmingly notable, they also were not terribly inflammatory. 

But on another note, Laura Bush might represent the (largely absent) role that conservative women play in the Republican party.  The United States House of Representatives currently has a scant 17 Republican female members.  The United States Senate, host to a whopping 17 women total, has only four female Republican Senators.  Two are moderates who break with their party more than any other Senators in their caucus (Olympia Snowe and Susan Collins of Maine) and one is running for governor next year (Kay Bailey Hutchison of Texas), ensuring her removal from the Senate.  And of the four remaining Republican women in the Senate, none voted against a sense of the Senate resolution offered by Senator Harkin of Iowa in 2003 stating that Roe v. Wade was correctly decided. 

As the gap between Republicans and the female electorate grows, will it become more and more clear that the missing woman that was Laura Bush for the last eight years could have taken on a stronger role to reshape her party?  And could that have been done in a way that would have maintained who Laura Bush was before she became Laura Bush?  

 

Hollywood For Ugly People, Or The Politico Experience.

Have you heard the latest scandal to stalk the halls of the White House? 

Expect the President to have many sleepless nights as the summer unwinds.  Cabinet Secretaries will attend tense meetings, each one refusing to make eye contact with the other, uncertain who will next be thrown under the bus.  Secretary of State Clinton will beg to be dispatched to Honduras, just to escape the overwhelming buzz swarm of journalists who will descend on this city from all corners of the globe.  

Expect the August recess to be cancelled, prompting cries of outrage from Minority Leader McConnell. Committees will converge on hearings, with Senators growing increasingly terse and snippy with each other.  Democrats will be humiliated, while Republicans will be unabashed in their glee in shredding the new President and what had previously seemed to be an unassailable Democratic majority.  

You say you haven't heard of this latest outrage?  This latest betrayal of the people's trust?  This manifestation of hypocrisy and hubris? 

That's okay.  Because it never really happened. 

That is, unless you're one of the editors of Politico.  

After Michael Jackson died, the editors of Politico put their ears to the ground and asked themselves, "What is the number one concern on the minds of the American people?"  And, as unemployment careens wildly out of control and our international situation becomes increasingly fragile, the daring, bold journalists of Politico demanded to know, on behalf of an outraged public, why President Obama had not issued a formal statement on the passing of the King of Pop. 

For three solid days, the team at Politico assembled an article that was tweaked and edited and ended with this.  Now, it's not entirely fair to place all the blame for this at the feet of Politico.  David Gregory inquired about the lack of a formal statement to David Axelrod on 'Meet the Press' on Sunday. But that was a throw away question.  Robert Gibbs was asked about it in the White House Press Room. But they ask about everything in the White House Press Room (witness the President being asked if he still smokes last week).  

But only Politico showed the dogged professionalism to pursue, nay hound this story to the point where even pointless stopped being a sufficient term.  

I wish this was a sole misstep on behalf of the Politico team.  I would like to picture a newsroom full of sobbing journalists, each one a diehard Michael Jackson fan in his or her own way, swaying in unison to 'Ben.' 

But this is not the case. 

Politico makes its argument, typically, with provocative, scream-at-you headlines.  Witness this.  Or this.  Or better yet, this.  These headlines are all from within the past two weeks. 

The typical Politico piece can be swiftly dissected.  First, you have your vague rumor or whispered "scoop" from some individual inside the Capitol.  Next, a political science professor is asked to weigh in, followed by a few heads of think tanks who each more or less repeat the talking points from their side of the aisle.  Throw in a few mumbled statements from press secretaries, and voila! you have a Politico article.  Chicken McNuggets contain a higher nutrient content than a typical Politico article.  

And if there is a sex scandal, such as there has been this past week?  Well, it's off to the races on Team Politico.  A casual stroll over to their website this morning showed no less than seven hyperlinks on the main page related to last week's Mark Sanford scandal.  

The main page is a disaster.  Articles fight with each other and contradict one another.  The blogs include postings like this.  I have lived in DC for almost nine years, and I have no clue who any of these people are.  

This past weekend, I asked a friend who is in journalism what he thinks of Politico, and he summed it up rather well.  "You see, Politico is pretty honest about their goals.  They push out news, and push it out fast in order to make it on shows like Anderson Cooper 360 or Keith Olbermann or whatever it is that Fox News has on.  They don't always get it right, but if they can get one or two things right and can make the nightly news, they have done their job."  

Let's set aside the whole moral correctness question of being dominated by the 24-hour news cycle.  As last week's Mark Sanford/Farrah Fawcett/MICHAEL JACKSON!/climate change bill brouhaha showed (you realized that the House passed major climate change legislation last week, right?), we're long past the point of mourning shot attention spans.  Following the situation in Iran is SO two weeks ago.  

So, why do I still read Politico, day in, day out? 

Simple.  For the same reason I made a beeline to McDonald's in college whenever I was hungover -- it's cheap, it's easy, and sometimes, I'm too dumb to know any better. 

First off, Politico gives out news in a quick, easy to read format.  Just like Wikipedia, it might not be worth the font it's printed on, but there is a kernel of truth in there SOMEWHERE.  It might not be the ultimate source from which to get your news, but it's a nice, simple jumping off point. 

Secondly, Politico writes its articles through the prism of politics (example).  While sometimes this veers on the shrill side and leads to a regurgitating of talking points from the respective party election committees, it still lays bare the truth that all politicians worry, to an extent, about the need to be re-elected.   

I love nothing more than election season in DC.  The town positively hums with the suspense.  I have an election year tradition of compiling the most competitive House races and summarizing them.  This past year, I put together the top 86 competitive races in a document complete with footnotes.  I'm not lying. Download 2008 Congressional Seats

So, while I recognize the failings of the particular inside baseball cheat sheet that is Politico, it is interesting in the way that a lot of things are interesting in a very specific DC way.  

When politicians run for re-election, you usually hear the usual missives fired upon my beloved adopted city.  And to me, typically, the complaints of "So-and-so has gone TOO Washington!" don't really make sense.  Washington is the town that it is, and there's not much that's going to change that.  

Certainly, policies will change based on who is in office.  Barack Obama is not George W. Bush.  Nancy Pelosi is not John Boehner.  But no matter who you elect, lobbyists will always be part of the culture of DC.  Lobbyist influence can be curbed, but like water, their authority and place at the debate table will always find a place to run.  

Capitol Hill is run by fiercely smart people, and, as you can imagine, some of those people can be neurotic.  Neurotic people need to keep constant tabs on what's happening, and what's happening now.  In this sense, Politico does not exist in a babbling vacuum.  By turning news quickly (and somewhat rashly), Politico does allow DC types to get in front of the story and spin it the way they find most favorable. 

Every branch of government is also a big fan of sending up "trial balloons."  Make a proposal, see what the public response is, and act accordingly.  Politico is a good, nice, cheap venue for that.  Run a story in Politico and see what the public (or at least the DC insider) response is and you have a pretty good thermometer for what the national response will (be crafted to) be. 

So, at the end of the day, I can make peace with Politico.  I can deal with the sensational headlines, I can understand the inane blogs.  I can put up with the overall over-the-"topishness." 

After all, if I can read US Weekly and give it all a laugh and a chuckle, shouldn't DC be afforded the same grace?