political rhetoric

I've been watching the Democratic National Convention every night, and I'm full to the ears with political rhetoric.

I love it.

In undergraduate school at FSU I majored in Government, or what other universities call political science. I was in perhaps the last class to study the great themes and principles of American government, straight from the best political minds of the last 200-plus years. Within a year or two the department was taken over by the statisticians, the poll-takers, the bean-counters, people who believed there was nothing to believe if it wasn't backed up by an opinion survey. They began learning how to write questions and how to tally the answers. They dismissed the various writings I'd been reading as mere rhetoric.

Balderdash.

Without that rhetoric, you forget where you came from and why you are going where you are going. Without the rhetoric, you lose your way in the forest. You get to the grocery store and can't remember whether you need a dozen eggs and a loaf of bread, or two six-packs and a bag of potato chips.

The speakers at the DNC unloaded some of the finest rhetoric I've heard all year. Pomp and fury. Very serious profundities. Hilarious one-liners. Sound bites galore.

Now the Republicans will have their turn. I'm not going to watch, because I've been hearing their rhetoric for years. They will rail against tax-and-spend liberals. (They prefer no taxes, but spend like drunken sailors.) They will get righteously indignant over abortion, gay rights (or same-sex marriages, which seems easier for them to say), and their version of family values. They will explain that things are going so well in Iraq that we need to keep our troops there. They will talk about experience, although some of the great presidents had no more experience than Senator Obama has. They will remind themselves where they've been and why they are going where they think they are going.

If they are smart, they will keep George W. Bush behind the curtains and off the stage for as long as they can. Dubya has 20 weeks and 3 days left in office. That's 20 weeks and 2 days too long.

through a glass, not quite so darkly

I want to report to my small handful of faithful readers that my eye surgery yesterday "appears" to have been quite successful.

After seeing the world through glasses (1st grade) and contact lenses (10th grade), my left eye now sees through a crystalens® implant. The crystalens® is a synthetic lens that flexes and "accommodates" like a natural lens. (Note that ® symbol - I wouldn't have bothered but it was just too easy to cut it and paste it.)

It was painless, absolutely painless. The only hard part was waiting longer than I wanted to wait before being wheeled into the operating room. They gave me a sort of "twilight" anaesthetic that relaxed me and let me see and hear everything, and talk. I might have preferred a couple of shots of Scotch and a stick to bite on, but what they gave me was much better. All I could see were a few lights overhead. I knew things were happening with my eye but there wasn't much to do but look at the lights. It was over in a matter of minutes.

Last night I was feeling anxiety because what I could see was blurry. They said to expect blurriness, halos around lights, and double vision for awhile. I was seeing triple vision while watching the Rays beat the Angels. Outside, the street light gave off rays of light. A photographer knows what a star lens does - I was seeing stars. My eye was dilated and it took more than 36 hours for my iris to begin getting back to normal.

Today, the blurriness has cleared up somewhat. I'm still getting some double vision. Looking at letters on the computer monitor, I see a ghost image behind and below the letters, which contributes to the blurriness. I think the dilation contributes to that, and I'm expecting the dilation to be gone tomorrow. Tonight, the street lights no longer look like stars. They still have halos, sort of like seeing them through a light fog, but nothing at all like last night.

I am amazed, grateful, happy. . .and not nearly as anxious. I think this is going to turn out just fine. I may need reading glasses to read with, but if that's the only problem, I can definitely live with that!

Fay, Fay, go away

You know you are in Florida when your eye surgery is scheduled on a Tuesday and the sixth named tropical storm of the season boils up, threatening to force a postponement. I never ask much from poor Cuba but I am happy to report that the Cuban mountains have rearranged Hurricane Fay, breaking up its eye and sending most of the bad weather off on a tangent. Fay, Fay, just go away. Tomorrow may be a blustery day in our corner of Paradise but not enough to postpone my surgery.

You know you are in Florida when your Key Lime tree begins producing ripe limes, although it is early in the season and the first ripe ones are about the size of marbles.

You know you are in Florida when your swimming pool turns green and remains green after you've cleaned the filter and added four jugs of liquid chlorine. I'm going to have to get serious about chemical warfare on the algae right after the storm blows by.

Speaking of chemical warfare, my lawn is not as green as my swimming pool, and it ought to be green after all the rain we've had. The lawn is showing signs of being eaten by something. I sprayed it with a heavy dose of Dursban, and if that doesn't do the trick, I will have to search through my stash of chemicals and try something else.

Back to that eye surgery: I reminded the folks at work of the adage that, "In the land of the blind, the one-eyed is King." The doctor is doing my left eye tomorrow, and when I return to work I expect to be treated like royalty!

Rays (2008) and Mets (1969)

One of the things I love about baseball is its historical lore.

The following was stolen from the St. Petersburg Times, which stole it from ESPN.com, thanks to the labors of reseacher Mark Simon who came up with parallels between the '69 Mets and the '08 Rays:

How are the 2008 Rays similar to the 1969 Mets?

The ace starter for the Mets was 24-year-old Tom Seaver.
The ace starter for the Rays is 24-year-old Scott Kazmir.

The 1969 Mets had a 61-101 record 2 years before winning the World Series.
The 2008 Rays had a 61-101 record 2 years ago.

The 1969 Mets had a closer, Ron Taylor, who had won a World Series (1964).
The 2008 Rays have a closer, Troy Percival, who has won a World Series (2002).

The 1969 Mets were 53-39 at the All-Star break.
The 2008 Rays were 55-39 at the All-Star break.

The Mets manager had a 3-letter first name (Gil) and a 6-letter last name (Hodges).
The Rays manager has a 3-letter first name (Joe) and a 6-letter last name (Maddon).

The 1969 Mets had a rookie as their primary third baseman (Wayne Garrett).
The 2008 Rays have a rookie as their primary third baseman (Evan Longoria).

And did we mention that the Mets won the World Series in 1969?
You gotta believe that the winner of the World Series in 2008 will be the Rays.

Five Weeks without contact lenses

This is Day 33 in glasses, i.e., without my old contacts lenses. I've gotten used to the glasses, somewhat, but not to the point of being able (or at least willing) to drive a car. I probably could if I had to, but I don't trust my ability to deal with heavy traffic.

I've gotten used to our bus system, as crazy as it is, but don't let me start on that again.

The Rays are now officially better than any Rays team in history, having won more games already than the old teams won in any complete season before this year. They are for real. They are going out on the field with good players on the bench due to injuries but the guys on the field are backing each other up and looking like champs. Joe Madden can shift them around to fill in the gaps but wherever he puts them, they perform like they belong in that position. They are truly fun to watch.

And when I'm not watching baseball, there's the Olympics, which is turning out to be the greatest show on Earth, literally. In fact, there's swimming going on even as I type this so it's time to bail outta here and go watch the swimmers. Adios!