We have two birthdays to celebrate today. Martin Luther King Jr. was born on this date in 1929. I look forward to having Monday off in his honor. More importantly, though, it’s my dad’s birthday. He’d have been 94 today, and it’s hard to believe that come September he’ll have been dead for 20 years. It’s also Charo’s birthday. She isn’t 94, but you couldn’t tell by looking at her (at least from the picture I just saw of her online). I think she was the original person famous for being famous (at least, I could never figure out why anybody paid attention to her – being married to Xavier Cugat doesn’t really seem to justify it to me). She always sounded like she had shit in her mouth, and that cuchi cuchi crap got old in a hurry.

While we’re doing birthdays, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that it’s also the b’day of Don Vilet (aka, Captain Beefheart), Ronnie Van Zant, and the great drummer Gene Krupa. I could go on, but I’ll spare you (I mean, it’s not like you all don’t know how to use the Internet for yourselves – which of course disqualifies you for being a Supreme Court justice). Except I’ll add that it’s also Lloyd Bridges’ birthday – can’t leave Lloyd out.

Did you miss NJ Governor Schultz Schultzie’s State of the State address yesterday? Me too. But, straight shooter that he is, he went right to Bridgegate, delivering a stirring thema culpa in the time-honored politician passive-tense style.

“…[M]istakes were clearly made.”

Reminds me of the years between about 1978 and 1986.

“Drugs were clearly ingested. Alcohol was most definitely consumed. Blackouts occurred, and, yes, there was puking involved. Lots of puking. I personally don’t know who did all that, but it happened under my watch, so I will accept all non-legally binding responsibility for those actions that, apparently, occurred without my knowledge.”

It also reminds me of Ronnie Reagan’s Iran-Contra “admission.”

“Hey, I said I didn’t do any of this shit but turns out the evidence is conclusive that I did. So, hey, must be I did. My bad.”

You know what’s weird? That was in 1987. Doesn’t Reagan seem like he should have been a lot longer ago? I mean, I know 1987 was like 37 years ago (Holy Shit! 1987 was 37 years ago!), but Reagan seems like he should have been in the 50s or something. Eisenhower, Reagan, then Kennedy. Maybe because his crappy movies are from back then, I dunno. I just think his era should have died and been buried a long time ago, but the Republicans and the Teabaggers still worship him.

It’s too dark to see outside at the moment, but the weather widget on my desktop says the current conditions are “freezing fog.” That’s a rather interesting concept. So I guess I’ll be driving to work through a cloud of tiny ice pellets. That should be interesting. Unless it either warms up or gets colder by the time I leave. Today is my late day, so I try like hell to procrastinate to avoid getting to my desk too early.

I hate these late days. It’s not as if I’m sleeping in on Wednesdays and then rolling out of bed at eight o’clock. This morning I rolled out at 4:00, since Fritzi and the gang decided there was something outside that required investigation (not that I was actually asleep, but I was quite comfortable and my foot wasn’t hurting). It was basically pointless trying to go back to bed after that (though I tried). Just another in a long list of things I’ve failed at over the years.

If I bought into all that Catholic shit, I think I’d get me a St. Jude medal. He’s the Patron Saint of Lost Causes (though St. Monica would be a good fit for me, too). And, no, I didn’t actually know that – I had to look that up, but I figured there had to be one. There’s a friggin’ saint for everything – for all the good they do. In fact, there are so many causes out there, the saints pull multiple duty.

Take St. Drogo. Patron Saint of unattractive people, Baume-les-Messieurs, bodily ills, broken bones, cattle, coffee house keepers, coffee house owners, deaf people, deafness, dumbness, Fleury-sur-Loire, gall stones, hernias, illness, insanity, mental illness, mentally ill people, midwives, mute people, muteness, mutes, orphans, ruptures, sheep, shepherds, sick people, sickness.

Do they hand this shit out by lottery, or do they have a big meeting in Catholic heaven.


“OK, ruptures. Who wants ruptures? Drogo? OK, good. I’ll put you down for hernias, too – they kinda go together. Next up we got Mad Dogs – Hubert, can I put you down for that?”

Well, it’s still way too damn early to start getting ready for work. Guess I’ll have to find a way to kill some time.