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Archive for June, 2007

We’re coming up on the six month anniversary of the GN and RR-T revelation. Remember the date? February 1, 2007, the day the fans worldwide were switched on high to handle the overload? Well, six months later where are the principals, and what are they doing?

GN is floating through the universe fat, dumb, and happy. The city attorney cleared him of culpability in the Timesheet Caper. He looks like a clear winner in his reelection bid, and his smiling face is all over the media. He apparently suffered no long-term effects although that remains to be seen.

AT has been fairly well below the radar screen. His consulting website is still up and running and he has, according to the site, the same four major clients he started with. No sightings of him have been reported in the major media and no blogger sightings, either. He may simply have been busy moving his offices from California Street to Kearny.

R-RT’s whereabouts and activities are unknown at this moment. But as I predicted some time ago, her name will live forever in the infamy of mistresses. The latest use of her name in the news media occurred on June 29, 2007 in the Fog City Journal in connection with the Daly-Newsom flap over Newsom’s rumored cocaine use. Aside from Fog City’s brief mention, however, nothing else seems to be known of her whereabouts or her activities. According to a short blurb in SFGate, she is no longer with Benefit Magazine, but the magazine’s on-line version still includes her name as a radio host.

All in all, this sorry episode has left a path of human damage. AT was once one of the most powerful political figures in SF with entrée into just about any door he wanted to open. And R-RT also held a plum job. Now, she is merely GN’s ex, an object to be denigrated and ridiculed. Only GN has emerged unscathed, the darling of the Democratic Party power structure and most of SF’s potential voters.

Does that seem fair? Absolutely not, but someone once remarked, “Who said life is fair.”

The tragedy in this case is that the real culprit escapes and the real victim will suffer for a lifetime.

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God, I feel so sorry for our elected representatives. They are so underpaid and overworked.

Take a look at this story in the Washington Post and you’ll cry right along with me. You may have to sign in with the Post to read the story if you don’t already have an account but it’s a simple. Just enter an e-mail address and a password.

Nancy Pelosi’s theme song is probably “I’m the Richest of the Rich and I Really, Really, Really Hate to Accept a Raise, but What the Hell, Times are Tough All Over and I Need Every Penny of My $212,100 Annual Salary for Flitting All Over the World in a Luxury Air Conditioned Jet Equipped With the Latest Gadgets While Dining on the Chic-est of the Chic in the Latest Cool, In-Crowd Food Fad of the Day While Millions of Americans Way Down There on the Ground Eat Burgers and Fries.”

Thank you, Nancy for the generous increase in the minimum wage for hard-working Americans.

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Regarding its dining habits, America has been called a “Gulp and go” society by Europeans. That’s a natural observation I suppose. Europeans are leisurely diners, sometime taking a few hours to work through a meal.

Americans on the other hand, want it now. Drive up to a window, order, grab a bag, and go. Even the higher classes of dining establishments want to clear the tables for the next wave of diners. In America, the prime directive in a dining establishment is “Make money.”

Now I’ve discovered a variation on the dining theme among coffee aficionados. There is sipping coffee and there is gulping coffee. Sipping coffee is that first cup of hot coffee on a cold morning, the cup you can curl your fingers around, the cup with the steam rising from it like the steam from a tea pot. That first cup of coffee is so hot, you have to blow the heat away and sip to avoid scalding your lips, tongue, and tonsils.

I am fully familiar with sipping coffee, and now I’ve discovered gulping coffee in a most unlikely spot, in a Starbucks, thanks to my daughter the Starbucks habitué and coffee addict who recently introduced me to their iced coffee.

This isn’t an advertisement for Starbucks, but I’m telling you straight, I’m already addicted to their blend. The stuff ought to be on a government list of controlled substances. When my daughter hands me my iced coffee, I gulp it down before we reach the door.

Chris Daly wants to introduce a piece of legislation which prohibits members of the executive branch from drinking and getting high on the job. He ought to include Starbuck’s iced coffee on his list.

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No, the principle doesn’t refer to the Gavster’s endowments. Kimberley Guilfoyle has covered the subject quite well. I imagine others could add to the field of knowledge.

Nope. The Peter Principle is a theory of employee advancement in an organization. According to the theory, everyone rises to his/her level of incompetence. This is a level of work or responsibility beyond the ability of the employee to perform.

Rather than attempt a detailed definition of incompetence, let’s work with some examples.

Charlie Brown. His level of incompetence is trying to anticipate the moment Lucy will jerk a football out of the path of his moving foot.

George Bush. His level of incompetence is constructing a complete sentence.

Bill Clinton. His level of incompetence is finding the proper insertion point for the satisfactory accomplishment of an act of sex in the Oval Office.

Dick Cheney. His level of incompetence is hitting the side of a barn with a shotgun firing Number 12 birdshot.

Attorney General Gonzalez. His level of incompetence is reading the U.S. Constitution for comprehension.

Mayor Nuisance. His level of incompetence is a 2-minute run of celibacy.

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Occasionally I like to find connections between the East Coast and the West Coast. In a previous post, I talked about San Francisco Bay and the Chesapeake Bay. And I included some thoughts about U.S. 50, which originated in Ocean City, Maryland and once ended in San Francisco.

There’s another ex-Coast to Coast highway that I am somewhat familiar with. Stretching from Atlantic City, New Jersey, running 3,220 miles to San Francisco, U.S. 40 has since been shortened, ending in Silver Creek Junction, Utah.

Once, though, U.S. 40 ran through several East Bay communities such as Rodeo, Hercules, San Pablo, Albany, El Cerrito, Berkley, and Oakland, then across the Bay Bridge to San Francisco where it ended.

In those days, the East Bay portion of U.S. 40 was San Pablo Avenue. I first traveled on U.S. 40 as a very young child and today can hardly remember the drive from San Francisco to Kansas City. Later, I traveled regularly on the highway between San Francisco and Kansas City.

But more, for a long time we lived in San Pablo a few blocks East of San Pablo Avenue. One of my home chores in those days was running to the store for stuff like milk and bread. A Lucky Store was located on the East side of San Pablo Avenue, but my dad had a “bill,” in a small store located just across San Pablo Avenue owned and operated by a Chinese family. Throughout the month, I would buy items and say to the owner, “My dad said put it on our bill.” Then at month’s end, my dad would dutifully pay the bill.

San Pablo Avenue was fairly heavily traveled even then, with no stop lights or pedestrian walkways nearby. My method for crossing the avenue was simply to wait for a break in traffic and dart across.

On occasion, the traffic would be so heavy that I resorted to a more dangerous tactic. I’d wait for a break in the northbound traffic and then walk to the center of the avenue where I’d stand on the dividing strip and wait for a break in the southbound traffic. As I stood in the middle of the avenue and waited for a break, cars whizzed past me on both sides so closely that I could feel the wind and heat of the cars.

One day to my surprise, I heard a honking horn and looked up to see a car headed straight at me. I had visions of death right then and there. But suddenly the car veered away and passed with a honk and profane shouts from the driver.

The experience didn’t daunt me, however. I continued my foolishness until we moved to Oakland and settled in a quiet neighborhood with a small neighborhood store located next to our house.

I’ve never lived where U.S. 40 originates in New Jersey, but I’ve traveled various segments of the route many times and I always remember the day I almost wound up spattered on the front of a car in San Pablo.

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Barring unforeseen circumstances between now and her tee-off time on Thursday, Michelle Wie will participate in the U.S. Women’s Open this week at Southern Pines, N.C.

Everyone wishes her well and hopes she has regained some of her previous form. She can be an exciting presence on the golf course with the charisma to bring spectators to any match she participates in. She is good for the game of golf.

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Well, she was released from the LA County jail this morning. Pictures of her leaving were in various media outlets and on the net. She was smiling and happy according to news reports.

USA Today’s print edition (Tuesday, June 28, 2007, page 2D) had an excellent insert titled “Some free advice for Paris Hilton.” USA Today’s readers had the following suggestions for her:

–48 percent Go away for good
–16 percent Tone down the party-girl image
–15 percent Keep out of sight for awhile
— 9 percent Hire a driver
— 7 percent Make another sex tape
— 2 percent Enroll in Yale or Harvard
— 2 percent Act like jail never happened
— 1 percent Stop wearing pink

What about you? Any advice for Paris? I have one bit. Move to SF and hook up with the mayor. He’s probably looking for a new model and may be willing to trade-in J.S.

Inevitable Afterthoughts: Paris would make a good mate for G.N. She’s better looking than J.S. and has access to a lot of loot. Socially, she’s right up there. And with her contacts, she might be able to arrange a movie deal for G.N.

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