CSotD: Waiting for the Sun
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Here's the thing about an eclipse, lunar or solar: There's a lot of anticipation as it comes on, and then great excitement at the apex, but it takes just as long to fade away as it did to start up, and that's more than a little anticlimactic.
Nobody sticks around to say, "Okay! Look! It's back at 100 percent again!"
And yet somehow we're still staring at cartoons about the eclipse.
Meanwhile …
Dave Granlund hits on one of the more interesting topics in the news, "interesting" in the sense that it ought to provoke more analysis than it seems to. (So far, it's mostly generated partisan sniping and bitching.)
As Secret Service authorities have said, their budget is tight to start with, which is disturbing enough, but let's add two stressers:
First, we've elected an older man with a relatively large family, which is to say, not only are there a lot more presidential offspring than average, but they're grown and gone. Other, younger presidents had smaller families in which the kids lived at the White House.
The other stresser is the amount of travel various Trumps and Trumplings engage in, most of which they were doing before 2016. You can bitch over what it costs when Eric or Don Jr takes a trip overseas, but you can't reasonably ask them to retire for four or eight years.
Nobody expected Jack Ford or Patty Davis to give up their careers.
On the other hand, this White House seems to indulge in a lot of voluntary travel, and maybe we should talk about that.
It's a lot less expensive for a president to slip away to Camp David, where security is built into the system, than to run off to Florida or New Jersey every weekend, and perhaps someone — perhaps someone who publicly inveighs against unnecessary government spending — needs to say, "Sorry. It's not in the budget."
And I happen to approve of Melania's decision not to disrupt Barron's school year, but that was a millionaire's choice and maybe the millionaire should pick up at least some of the additional tab for security.
Meanwhile, it's nice that travel to campaign appearances are being funded by the committee to reelect — though I'm not sure one does have to start the 2020 campaign six months into one's first four-year term — but, in terms of Secret Service protection, these jaunts cost taxpayers just as much if he were traveling on legitimate government business.
Some of it's inescapable: I remember when Senator D'Amato or Senator Moynihan would come visit the newspapers in New York, and they'd just sort of show up. Ditto, in Maine, when Senators Collins or Snowe came by.
But Senator Clinton was also the Former First Lady, so when she dropped by, her entourage arrived in multiple long black cars with multiple clones of Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith casing the joint.
Which is okay with me: I've seen enough screwball mail at my level and can only imagine what horrors are generated at their level.
The Secret Service needs to be properly funded.
Still, unless there's some specific law forbidding it, maybe Trump should direct his donation of presidential salary to the Secret Service, and arrange to comp Will and Tommy Lee when they have to book rooms at a Trump hotel.
And stay home and work on weekends once in awhile, ferchrissake.
Juxtaposition of the Day
(Big Ben Bolt, May 4, 1957)
By happenstance, the current story arc in Vintage Big Ben Bolt is setting up a match between the former boxing champ and a judo expert, while at the same time, only 60 years later, the real world is setting up a match between former boxing champ Floyd Mayweather and UFC champ Conor McGregor.
And, while Alamo Smith is doing this out of wounded ego, Showtime is making a mint out of a generation who believes this really is a "one-of-a-kind superfight," because they're too young to remember when Muhammad Ali faced off against professional wrestler Antonio Inoki in 1976.
This could have been less of a farce, because mixed martial arts celebrates everything Aoki was forbidden to do in that semi-exhibition, semi-fixed match.
But apparently, they're restricting it to boxing, which puts it right back in the same category, only with far less chance of it going the distance, much less of ending in a draw.
But quite possibly with the same rain of garbage being thrown into the ring by disappointed fans.
On a slightly more elevated plane
I usually avoid recommending Existential Comics episodes that wander too deeply into the stuff you had to be there to laugh at, but the current Philosopher's Strike is awfully funny and I think that even if you only took some required survey course in philosophy, you'll get a hoot out of it.
This cartoon regularly proves my theory that you need to be very intelligent in order to be successfully silly.
And then Bill Whitehead regularly disproves my theory. The difference being that, when I giggle at Existential Comics, I get to feel superior. When I giggle at Free Range, I'm a little embarrassed.
This is really dumb. And wonderful.
For the kids, not me
I don't know if it's the educator in me or just the grandpa, but Johanna Draper Carlson's review of this comic sent me straight to Amazon to pre-order it.
I could have it mailed right to my grandkids, but first I need to make sure it's appropriate for them.
Sort of like making sure a box of candy is wholesome before handing it over.
One must protect the children, after all.
Now here's your moment of zen
Today's headline was a good post-eclipse summary, but, boy, if you think the Ali/Inoki fight was a letdown, you should have seen us play that Doors album when it first came out. This single is good, though, and apt, as the days become noticeably shorter.
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