Idle Chatter

Idle chatter while waiting for this goddamned winter to finally go away:

* Are people who constantly complain about taxes similarly outraged when they get raises in their jobs, and -- as a result -- the price of their product increases? Something tells me that when the shoe's on the other foot, these people will defend their raises to the death and argue that "if you want good service, you have to pay."

Yet when anyone gets a raise in the public sector, or if the cost of plowing streets, or collecting trash, or heating and maintaining schools goes up due to circumstances beyond anybody's control (have you checked the price for a barrel of oil these days?), the first thing these people worry about is their taxes ... as if that's the ONLY thing that matters. Your school system's books are so archaic that some of them might say "someday, man will land on the moon," yet don't raise MY taxes to update the curriculum.

Silly.

* I do not like Hillary Clinton. To me, she's about as phony as they come. Beyond any of her issues, the reason I don't like her is because when she ran for U.S. Senate in 2000, she went around wearing a New York Yankees baseball cap and declaring to everyone that she was always a Yankee fan. Right. Let's see. Born in Illinois, educated at Yale (where, I guarantee you, she didn't know the difference between a New York Yankee and a Minnesota Twin), lived in Arkansas. Spent eight years as the First Lady and -- as far as I or anyonen else can see -- never used the perks of her position to become a fixture at Yankee Stadium, the way her initial opponent, Rudy Giuliani, was.

Sadly, this seems to be 100 percent representative of her. If you look up the word "politically expedient," there's her picture.

Having said all that, I really hate it when people start bringing up how "shrill" she is. There are plenty of other things on which to roast her. Why bring up something she can't help? And if it's not "shrill" it's the "cackle." Here's how answers.com defines "cackle:" To make the shrill cry characteristic of a hen after laying an egg. To laugh or talk in a shrill manner."

In other words, a "cackle" is a sound unique to the female ... not the male.

This is what you call "code." It's the same thing as saying Katie Couric lacks "gravitas." Well, if "gravitas" means having a deep, authoritative voice, then of COURSE she lacks "gravitas." So what? For Chrissakes Ted Baxter had "gravitas" if you want to go by that definition!! It's not politically correct to hate on someone merely because of her gender, so you have to find other reasons that don't sound so politically incorrect -- yet deliver the same subtle message.

This is why someone thought it would be hilarious to post a picture of Barack Obama wearing native Somali attire. You won't get any mileage anymore by comparing "Obama" to "Osama," but if you can show him dressed like a Somali warlord, you get your point across without saying a WORD!!

Look, there are plenty of legitimate reasons not to like Hillary Clinton. I just gave you one of mine, and while it's certainly lame, it's not nearly as lame as saying she lacks "Gravitas" or that she sounds "shrill." And people -- especially women -- who insist on using these code words to describe them you're just playing into the hands of the sexists who resent BOTH of them invading their playing field.

* I was going through a toll booth in Boston Saturday night and -- as always -- I thought of The Godfather and James Caan. Some images are just too indelibly ingrained to escape. I'll always think of Sonny Corleone whenever I go through a toll booth. I'm always expecting the collector to drop my money, bend down to pick it up, only to find an army of machine gun-wielding thugs popping up to blow me away. And there I'll be ... lying in the middle of the street, with blood and glass oozing out of me.

But isn't it funny how you can't avoid certain images. I love piano bars, yet I can't go to a club with a piano players without going up to the piano player and saying "you played it for her, you can play it for me," in my most ridiculous Humphrey Bogart voice.

I can't see anyone hit a ground ball to first base -- at any level -- without AUTOMATICALLY knowing that it's going to go right through the kid's legs. I have Bill Buckner to thank for that.

Whenever I see Bill Belichick, I see him in a captain's uniform on the USS Caine, rattling those ball bearings with his fingers, just like Captain Queeg.

I can't even THINK of Wade Boggs anymore without thinking of Roger Dorn in "Major Leagues."

If I see a picture of anyone in a soldier's uniform, no matter what they're doing, all I see is Mike Dukakis in that damn tank.

I'm sure there are many more of these, but that's all for now.

* I always had a fascination for the Wild West, ever since I was a little kid. I wasn't obsessed with it, and I certainly wan't much for watching westerns on TV (or movies), but the legends themselves always fascinated me. I couldn't have cared less about the latest John Wayne movie. Never saw "True Grit." But the true historic stuff, or the more intelligent movies like "The Oxbow Incident?" Loved those.

I bring this up because during my Super Bowl weekend, I spent a day in Tombstone, Arizona, which -- for those who don't know -- was the site of the famous "Shootout at the O.K. Corral." What amazed me was that the gunfight itself lasted all of about two minutes (if that), with the Earp brothers (Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan), along with Doc Holliday, scoring a decisive rout over Ike Clanton's game. But the fallout from the fight lasted years, with Virgil being wounded and Morgan being killed.

I suppose this particularly skirmish stood out, among all the rest of the lawlessness of the old west, because of the characters involved. Who hasn't heard of Wyatt Earp? or Doc Holliday?

Wyatt Earp is a fascinating study. I guess the best way to describe him was "morally ambiguous." He certainly never let the expediency of the moment bother his conscience. He spurned all offers to become a marshal in Tombstone (after having performed the duties elsewhere) and wasn't happy when his brother, Virgil, became one and outlawed guns in the main part of town as one of his first official acts.

But when the Clanton gang -- with whom the brothers were already feuding -- decided to cause trouble, Wyatt got talked into going down to the area of the corral (along with a very willing Doc Holliday) to disarm the men. Instead, a gunfight ensued and the Clanton gang very much got the worst of it.

I've read about this gunfight for years, been fascinated with it, seen movies about it ... but never really got the FEEL for it until I stood where the shootout actually occurred.

Great stuff.

* And speaking of Arizona, it's a nice state ... when it's not cold (which is was, when I was there in February). There's some beautiful scenery, and Scottsdale is a very trendy city.

But the Valley of the Sun is also rather strange in that its subdivisions are all basically the same. They're all cut out of nothingness. It's as if someone threw a dart at a zone and said "here! Here is where I'm going to build my subdivision," and then went in there, put up a bunch of cookie-cutter houses, and left. In some of these places, you can actually visualize how they looked before they were developed ... because all you have to do is go down the street and see the vast nothingness -- even in built-up places such as Mesa.

What a difference between that and Boston, where there's no rhyme or reason to where houses are built, and no homeowners' associations to govern how uniform they must look. I don't know. Houses are bought and sold up here, too. It would seem to me that if you're going to put down a half million dollars for the house of your dreams, you should have the right to paint it whatever color you want.

That's all for today.