Parting Glances: Other Voices, Other Rooms

By |2017-10-31T05:26:47-04:00October 31st, 2017|Uncategorized|

I’ve again been invited to Washington on July 21 for the President’s Dinner (Cocktail Reception, 6:00 PM; Dinner, 7:00; Dessert, 8:30) at the bustling Convention Center.
Politics makes strange bedfellows.
I’ll once more decline because the Center banquet area is so vast and likely be bedecked in so much red, white, and blue bunting that no one would notice I was (a) unescorted, (b) came in drag, (c) had a henna rinse, and (d) wasn’t carrying a Jesus-in-the-Garden handheld church fan.
My invitation comes by way of J. Dennis Hastert, Speaker of the House, who pays me a compliment in his accompanying letter. My name is correctly spelled. My address is accurate, as is my ZIP Code, 48202. It’s the salutation that is, rather — shall we say, refreshing — Dear Mr. Mr,.
The implication I’m sure is that I’m fully a man’s man and not the least bit kinky (in which case the salutation would be Dear Sir). In any event — flattery and election year wooing aside — the GOP bacchanalia comes at a hefty 2500 bucks a plate — which, I suppose, includes a second helping of Baked Alaska — environmentally warmed over, to be sure.
Speaker Haster’s letter — after a request (unrequited) for lesser contributions of $50 to $1000 — concludes with a caveat of neocon understatement: “You know the liberal wing of the Democratic Party is energized.” So Mr. Speaker is Mr. Mr,.
I do, however, have one White House item that I treasure: a sugar packet with Seal of the President of the United States. Depending upon my mood, I’ll either donate it to HRC for banquet auctioning this fall, or use it in my coffee while reading President Clinton’s 957-page political apologia. (The sugar comes from his low-cal year in the Oval Office.)
This poetic item was salvaged from my day’s allotment of undigested SPAM. I have no idea who the sender is, who the quote is by, and what, if anything, it means in the grand scheme of things. But it did put me in mind of a number of local politicians:
“He also has a prejudice in favor of nice handkerchiefs and well-kept fingernails; he may know a good deal about history, but he is liable to mistake turkey-tracks for bear-prints, and, though he has learned astronomy, he could never find his way by the stars.”
Cell phone users, in case you missed this earthshaking news item, be advised: LONDON (Reuters) — “Mobile phones may damage men’s sperm, Hungarian scientists say, in a study that fertility experts dismissed [recently] as inconclusive.
“Carrying a mobile in hip pockets or a holster on the waist could cut sperm count by nearly 30 percent, according to the research. [The scientists] analyzed sperm from 221 men and . . . found correlations between the use of the phones, even in a standby setting, and reduced sperm concentration and quality.”
RULE OF APPOSITION #402: If you use a cell phone in public, don’t stand by Hungarian scientists who count waist holster calories.
Detroit author Carl Mitchell e-mails from Florida: “St. Pete Pride was simply fantastic. It covered three full blocks with over 250 vendors (tents) and 20,000 spectators.Ê Following the spectacular parade there was a four-block-long rainbow flag which took 200 persons to carry along the way.Ê The VFW opened its doors to the GLBT community big time.ÊGay Pride is the biggest money maker for the VFW, which incidentally is very gay friendly.”
I shouldn’t wonder. Don’t ask. Just Sell. (God bless Anita Bryant and Jeb Bush, too.)

About the Author:

Charles Alexander