Stumping for Obama in New Hampshire

This is the first election ever when I have given money to a candidate. This is the first election ever that I have actually got involved.

Today, for the second time, I drove up to New Hampshire, this time with three other women I had never met. We had a ball!

The enthusiasm for Barak Obama is so contagious, so real, so heartfelt, that I feel like I am a part of something pure and good and forward moving. How often does that happen?

At campaign headquarters in Nashua, as in Salem, the people were organized, pleasant, and snacks and water were handed out, we were given good directions--it was like clockwork, but clockwork with a heart.

In the neighborhoods, the first man we spoke with said his family was for Obama all the way and they were voting a democratic ticket. Which mean Jeanne Shaneen would also get a vote. Seniors told us they had already voted for Obama. A man who said he was a Republican was voting for Obama. O.K., it wasn't all beer and skittles.

Someone announced he was for Sarah Palin, who is obvious getting the "babe" vote. Someone else told us he didn't like Biden. We said, as to the Palin person, Palin/Biden is not running for president. Some people watch too much Fox TV. Whatchagonnado?

Overall, it was a positive experience, and some people had already voted. Some were prepared for long lines. The weather was cool but pleasant and the sun shone most of the day. I walked a lot and talked a lot, and for all the people not home, we left literature.

It feels good to be doing something positive, making a contribution to change. We heard Obama was ahead 10-12 percent in New Hampshire, and if that's true, I feel just a wee bit responsible.

To be truthful, I am a basket case about the election, and just want it to be over and for my candidate to be the victor. Then we can move on and forward. Everyone is totally paranoid, thinking the Republicans will steal another election. Like the did in 2000.

I'm hoping all the young people vote. They were at HQ today in droves. Clean cut, too, not a bunch of bearded socialists and anarchists and whateverists. This is so great.

Tired and windburned, but happy,

Grapeshot

Bouchercon and I'm Not There

This year I've skipped Thrillerfest, Edgar's Week and now Bouchercon, taking place today and this weekend in Baltimore. O Poe! O Nevermore!

Bouchercon is the biggest mystery and crime writing conference, with many of the big names in mystery writing, and endless panels, some good, some dull, and high times in the bar. Always high times in the bar.

I went to Bouchercon in Chicago a few years ago. At that time, The Shadow Warriors was newly out and the bookstore actually sold copies. Now the rules have changed and it wouldn't be considered legitimately published and so the bookstore wouldn't have it and I wouldn't be listed as an author. How galling is that?

E-publishers are not now and never were "real" publishers, and POD is not a legitimate printing method in the eyes of most writing organizations, with more jumping on the "let's keep ourselves exclusive" bandwagon all the time. Sisters in Crime, formerly the most democratic of organizations has become "exclusive" too. It is hard to have one's nose pressed against the glass of the candy store, or book store or . . .

But that's not why I'm staying home. Instead, I went to The Muse and the Marketplace here locally, and I'm taking a writing course at Brown, and actually trying to improve my writing rather than rub elbows with other writers. I've been rubbing elbows until my sweaters need leather patches, and you know, there are people who really suck at networking and promoting themselves and I am one.

Of course I'll be at the New England Crime Bake which is only 20 miles down the road, and I trekked to Sleuthfest, and heard positive comments from the agent and editor and it came to naught. There's a lot to be said for Florida in late February-early March. Sun. Warmth. Beaches. Crab meals. Relaxation. Friends.

So it's back to writing and writing and writing and trying to write the best book possible, and then make it better, because that's the only thing that's going to count. Not schmoozing and smiling and propping my frayed elbows on the bar no matter how much more fun socializing is that sitting here staring at the screen.

Writing is hard work.

I hope this doesn't come across as a whine. As a kid you expect a level playing field and things to be fair and of course they are not and maybe you rail against unfairness and then you suck it up and become more realistic about life. I'm sure McCain rails at the unfairness of the economy diving into the toilet at this time. Not fair! So he and Caribou Barbie talk dirty about Obama. She is edging toward demagogue. I try to stay above all that.

Rolling in the gutter is for losers.

At Boucheron I would love to corner Dan Fesperman and talk about his Afghan book. So good. Wow, was it good! Should have made the best seller list, but then nothing about publishing is necessarily about quality, or even a good story, it's about what the public finds comfortable to read, those who do read, which are fewer and fewer; the public reads romances, little cozies, fantasies, thrillers with cardboard characters, and sometimes the excellent books that everyone can love. Just because many of the books that are published don't appeal to me doesn't mean they're not eminently readable.

I don't pretend to understand what resonates with the reading public. It ain't fictionalized computer crime, that's for sure. I hope when I use the vernacular, so to speak, that I don't start sounding like Sarah Palin. That's for darn sure.

O.K. off to the drugstore and a walk through town. Walking always puts me in a better frame of mind.

Grrrapeshot

Doggerel for an October Day

I went to New Hampshire to work for Obama and the Democrats today, a beautiful fall day when most people were out or did not answer the door (so few doorbells, so many inaccessible front doors) or whatever. To the brave souls who dared confront a slightly pudgey not-very-young campaigner with a big smile and an Obama button, you rock!

Last night, I composed a bit of doggerel inspired by the debate and the web and all the hoop-la.
It's not great poetry and I could do better if I spent more than 20 minutes but hey, doesn't spontaneity count?

Caribou Barbie, Vice-President Wannabe

Caribou Barbie flying in low
She hails from the state of ice and snow.

Caribou Barbie making beaucoup waves.
Mooseburger and Caribou are menu faves.

Caribou Barbie on climate change:
Polar Bears must find a new home on the range.

Caribou Barbie so colloquial and homey
On a clear day from Wassilla you can see a few commie.

Caribou Barbie standing on a ridge
Scouting out a site for the infamous bridge.

Caribou Barbie hockey mom and mayor.
For Rape Kits in Wasilla, the victim is the payer.

Caribou Barbie cooks with polar bear helper
While she shoots at wolves from a helicopter.

Caribou Barbie reads no papers or books
She scorns all those elitist hooks.

Caribou Barbie, McCain’s weird pick
Caribou Barbie, our Northwoods hick.


Here is a link to a couple of interesting photos that claim not to be photo-shopped.
http://loc.rousefamily.com/leftofcentrist/?p=1198

Make up your own mind.


Grapeshot

Look Ma! No Interviews

I am aghast that Ms. Palin has yet to be interviewed. Am I crazy, or does everyone else think it's incredibly weird that a vice-presidential candidate cannot participate in an interview. Tonight S.O. mentioned that lots of guys are planning to vote for her, and my reply was unprintable in a family blog like this, but a little hint is what would the guys be voting with, and another hint is that it wasn't their brains.

Seems incredible to believe men are as stupid as women. The Hilary loyalists were hard to understand, There is an old saying, "cutting off your nose to spite your face," and it seems to happen every day.

I know my sex to be emotional, that being one of the bats I used to be beat over the head with on one job. Practically daily. "You're too emotional."

But guys? Voting for Caribou Barbie? Fantasies of the hunt? Goin' fishing? Fantasies of her coming on to them? I mean really. More people should have a life.

Today in Boston, you would have thought the Pope died, with all the caterwauling about Tom Brady. Now I love Brady and Belechik, something about their intensity is really appealing, but the man is injured, not dead, and football is a game of injuries, and the Pats have had their days in the sun and no one seems to want to take their lumps, as it were.

Grapeshot, your humble blogger, has been heard to say, "bah, humbug!" any number of times.

And today, again, the rains came.

Tonight, dinner was a pick up affair, with my own take on eggplant parmesan. We have three ripe tomatoes, garlic, onion, and a bit of green pepper. We had fresh fettucini, and one medium eggplant. Some parmesan and a modicum of mozzarella. And always basil, parsley,oregano and sage. Herbs make the meal.

It was incredibly tasty. I cooked everything in one skillet (except the pasta) and put it under the broiler for a minute or two for the cheese to melt. Vegetarian is good, but this was not low fat or low calorie. We can fight over the little bit left for lunch.

No polar bear helper or caribou helper or evern salmon helper involved. Would you shoot a caribou? Would you leave the polar bears to drown when the ice all melts? Such great creatures, and some politicians would write them off without a shrug.

I don't know. I don't know.

I wouldn't.

God, Mother and Country

After much internal dialogue, I decided to listen to Sarah's speech last night, but finally turned it off because it was a god, mother and country speech and the best one, by far the best was delivered in the Riverwoods Village Hall about a million years ago by Barb Carmen, and after that impassioned rhetoric, none of them passed muster. Sorry. Sarah.

I will watch McCain's speech tonight. Wonder if he will mention the so-called issues in a way that will tell us his plans. The Republicans seem to be learning hard on God, mother and country. I don't think those are the issues. Well, maybe they are.

Sometimes, one thinks of emigrating, not seriously, but nonetheless, the thought intrudes. How can it have come to this?

Since most of us have families of some sort, or did at one time, no matter how dysfunctional, I fail to see how having a family qualifies one for much of anything. If someone could please explain, I promise to listen.

Three Women and a daughter

All of a sudden the airwaves are full of insipid commercials with three women. They are going orgasmic over non-dairy creamer, or Three Musketeers or baked corn chips. Nothing I recall ever getting too excited about. Actually, sounds like stuff to avoid. All obviously best friends giggling and shrieking over ho-hum stuff. Weird. Who would be stupid enough to buy those products based on these commercials of girl bonding over non-dairy creamer? I mean, think about it.

The Republican vice-presidential candidate appears to have shown zip concern for her pregnant teen-aged daughter's feelings. Think back to seventeen. How would you have liked not just everyone in the U.S. to know about your little mistake, but the entire world. How humiliating is that? Well, kid, stiff upper lip, finish school and leave the reluctant husband when you've had enough. Above all, stiff upper lip. Poor thing.

Caribou Barby. That's good, huh? Well, depending on your point of view. What's interesting, is that the Democratic woman are asking, geez, who's going to be taking care of those kids, especially the special needs baby? and the Republican, womans-place-is-in-the-home church, kids and kitchen folks are saying, "sure, she can have it all. Go for it! "

Do you ever feel like life, real life, has become reality TV and YOU CAN'T TURN IT OFF. There is No REMOTE.

I don't know. I don't know.

Grapehot, who has been expressing doubts about everything of late.

Take Four Ripe Tomatoes . . .

Zowie, the harvest is great, and we must have vitamin C coming out our pores. Last night we had tomatoes provencal, which were so good we have to have them again. We finished the dish with our eggs and bacon this morning. Yum-O. You can find a recipe on the web. I took a short cut and used Panko and put the garlic, parsley, thyme and parmesan into the crumbs. My recipe called for broiling the tomatoes, then broiling again with the crumbs. You have to be ever-vigilant that the crumbs don't burn.

http://www.jacquespepin.net/members/recipes/tomatoesprovencale.html

We had shish-kebab with a green pepper from the garden. It tasted to fresh and sweet. I used decent sirloin for the meat, and also had mushroom and onion on the skewers. We topped off the dinner with corn on the cob. No dessert last night. Not necessary.

My marinade is something I've used since I was a young bride--and it's always good. Herewith:

Marinade for Shish-Kebabs

For 4 skewers

Juice ½ lemon
1/3 c. olive oil
½ cup sherry (dry)
1 T. Worchestershire sauce
1 T. salt
½ t. pepper
1 t. curry powder
½ t. ground ginger
1 small onion, grated
Mix together and marinate beef or pork for two hours--you could probably use for lamb or chicken, too, although I always go for the beef.

Here's a blogger who thinks with me. I loved the "All America Summarize Proust Contest." Remember, Sarah cooks with Polar Bear Helper.

http://lotsasplainin.blogspot.com/2008/08/all-american-summarizing-proust-contest.html

Sarah Who? Oh, the Polar Bear Helper cook

When S.O. told me the name of McCain's VP pick, I asked, "any relationship to Michael Pallin?" because it seemed like a true Monty Python moment.

I mean, how short-sighted and cynical can you be, going after those fragments of the Hilary vote with such desperation? And the far-right, too, beyond the fringe, as it were. And two Westerners, but not those calculated to appeal to California, not the new frontier but the lost frontier.

I don't know. I don't know.

Does no one think anymore? The Hilary backers rather worry me. So shrill. Bad sports. Bad losers. God, when I was in school back in the stone age, being a bad sport was really de trop.

How many languages does Sarah speak? What does she know of anything outside Alaska? I was in Alaska, the last frontier, last summer. Great place for scenery and critters. We understood where the Bridge To Nowhere that Sarah supported and then flipflopped on went to. Nowhere. Talk about pork.

She likes wildlife. To shoot. Screw the polar bear. Screw the environment. Jeez, John. What have you unleashed? A snowmobiling hockey mom? Just what the country needs. And you being such an old coot.

I don't know. I don't know.

Of course two old white men, old white rich men, wouldn't work. Are the Republicans so bankrupt they have no suitable candidate for Veep? Guess so. Mitt was gov. here and no great shakes. Flip-flopped after he left too.

Well, it will be interesting, but my great fear is that the fringes, the flat-earthers, the world-enders, those who watch reality shows and think they have some connection with reality, the drones, the gullible, the non-thinkers, the whiners, and the polar-bear helper people may win this election and it just scares the sh__ out of me. Those who believe we belong in Iraq to bring "democracy and freedom" and those who think global warming is a communist plot, those who still live not even in the last century, but in 1500, will they have their say?

I don't know. I don't know.

Isn't is scary to think so?

Grapeshot, who is trembling in her flip-flops. Did someone say Flip Flop? Aiiieeeee!