What really matters

Postcards From the Edge *

(* Or Beyond. Hey. Sudbury, for chrissakes...)
Day Five:: Sneak into a rehab counsellor's office this morning and log on, real quick and stealthy, to webcast yet another urgent plea for chocolate. (Where the hell is it? Startin' to get desperate around here. There's a murder of pizza-addicted crows, busted for brawling behind a dumpster in Sarnia and sent here for court-ordered treatment. They're getting really ugly in group. And that damn horse in the corner. Nobody seems to know why he's here. He just keeps staring at me.... won't say anything. Just stares. Creepy. I digress.)

Anyway, imagine my shock when I find out out that damage to a single submarine carrier cable under the Mediterranean has crapped out two thirds of the Interwebby goodness normally available in the Middle East and India. Apparently vital commerce on at least two continents has ground to a crawl. Imagine the chaos for them: no LOLCats! No Onion! No Facebook! For us? No access to highly outsourced call centres! The humanity!

More important than any of this, though, is the still-unknown fate of the New Delhi, Ahmedabad, and Dubai chapters of the Coyote Fan Club. My every thought is with you in this time of tribulation and sorrow, even if the net ain't... and, like, send chocolate if you get this...

Audrey: No or yes?

This missive is just in from Audrey:

I was in Florence recently, and had lunch at one of my favorite places: the self-serve restaurant Ristorante Self-Service Leonardo on Via de' Pecori.

The cashier, who recognized me from my two previous visits that week, asked me a question. His question, in rapid Italian, was incomprehensible to me, so I replied, "No."

He looked amused and said, "No, or yes?"

I replied, "Yes."

He said, "You should usually say no, but sometimes you should say yes…"

******

Once, when I was sun-tanning on the steps of the Palazzo delle Esposizioni museum in Rome, an Italian man came up to me and admonished me, telling me that I could get skin cancer. Then he invited me to go on vacation with him in Spain for two weeks. I said, "no".

Another time, on a train from Rome to Paris, an Italian businessman, who was clearly admiring my legs, invited me to get off the train with him in Monte Carlo. He told me that, as a resident of that city, he could give me a wonderful tour. I said, "no".

I was at a conference with a married colleague a few years ago, and as we entered our adjoining hotel rooms, he looked back at me. And, although he didn't say anything, I understood the question. I said, "no".

And, maybe every woman has had this experience. You are just starting a relationship (exploratory dating) and he is sitting on your couch, looking up expectantly. And you lean in and kiss him and feel - nothing at all. No warmth, no passion for him, no chemistry. And you were longing for a relationship. And he is a good man. But, you say "no".

******

So, dear reader, as I go through this adventurous life, sometimes I do say "yes" and, quite frequently, I say "no". I've noticed that we all react differently to these situations that offer unforeseen pleasure. Do you look back, as I do, and wonder what would have happened if you had said "yes"? Do you have any stories to share?

This Google Poem

this poem is about cognitive-behavioral therapy
this poem is about a brief period of unrequited emotions
this poem is about abortion and I find it amazing that you can absolutely disagree with everyone
this poem is about a medical condition I have.
this poem is about alot of things and really hits an emotion string
i'll tell you what this poem is about. It's about living in the moment.
this poem is about the war in Iraq
i think this poem is about flying elephants soaring on the horizon of feministic values. But the elephants are depressed like Anne Heche
i think this poem is about getting people to stop and consider, 'what makes you think you're the one running the show?
this poem is about not just hearing your friend, but actually taking the time to listen and understand them.

this poem is not about insomnia at all
this poem is not about the horror of wars or anything like that
this poem is not about man's relationship to nature.
(This poem is not about) Transubstantiation.
this poem is not about the physical
this poem is not about temptation.
this poem is not about some sleaze ball trying to "seize the day" and get laid

[*] [*]

Overheard in Ottawa

On the #14: Two acquaintances discussing call centre work

Earnest young woman: I just tell them I'm Canadian and they come around.

Lord of the Rings Fan: Is it legal to tell them we're Canadian?

Earnest young woman: It's not. I say I'm originally Canadian, and working in New Jersey and it's cold...

In a Transitway Shelter:

Algonquin Student (to her cell phone): No, no, 56 mm is fine. Alex had the super-sensing ones and he said... [lowering voice] It's weird 'cause I'm talking in Baseline Station... but Alex said... anyway he said 56 is fine.

Doggy detox

I've been a bad, bad dog. First Coun. Dog (sic. hah.) Thompson hires trappers to run me outta Dodge - um, okay, Greely. They catch a couple of my slower eastern brethren and bring down all manner of vigilante doofuses (doofi?) on moi's frisky tail.

Okay, I know it's gettin' hot. I scoot the Top Sekrit Furtress of Solitude over to Richmond. Where, suddenly, like, Coun. Jan Harder jumps onto the anti-coyote bandwagon and gets all, like, "you are so not allowed here, either!" What's wrong with these people? Don't they know that a semi-mythical coyote on a heavy chocolate jag is uncatchable?

It's not all bad. A small, vocal pro-coyote lobby is spamming the Petfinder, explaining that ya don't leave small pets and food outside, unsupervised, for long periods in semi-rural areas. (Letters with pix of highly photogenic Alberta coyotes... Yoohoo! Over here, mister shutterguy!) Others kindly and correctly note there's way more than one kind of rural predator checking out the daily specials on the menu. And wonder exactly who's unbalancing the ecology more here, anyway, coyotes or people? I have my opinions.

Still, despite the joy of a good chase, certain of the Irregulars worry. When they finally catch up to me Saturday night, snarfing Hershey's on the curb outside the Mac's on Gladstone, the IO suggests I've been really pissy lately. The Short Guy says I should lay off the chocolate and let my kidneys recover. Aggie fixes me with a gimlet eye -- maybe two, hard to tell because she's a teensy bit unfocused -- and urges me to get the hell out of town and lay low for my own good. A spa retreat, I ask? A nunnery? Hopefully...

Nope. This is intervention, big-time. Those rat bast... ummmmm, friends, concerned for my safety and well-being... jump me and slam me into a travel crate. And ship me to detox. In Sudbury. Here, I languish, jonesing in a lockdown facility. Coyotes have no pockets in which to smuggle in their chocolate stashes. Grim.

It's not all whacks on the nose with newspapers, though. I'm apparently recovering in record time. Heh. The counsellors (No nuns in sight. None.) are very impressed with my progress. If I'm a good dog, they'll let me go on the field trip to the nickel mine. If I'm a really good dog, they might persuade the tour guides to let me spell out my name in glowing slag... and how cool is that?

Another Friday Night with Fourth Dwarf

"Care to see a flick Friday night?" a pretty pixie asked me this week.

Always liking it when the lady makes the first move, I happily agreed. "What are we going to see?"

"There will be Blood," she told me.

"Gee, sweety," I said. "I don't like vampire movies."

"Don't worry," she said, "it's not a vampire movie. You'll like it, I promise."

"Oh, ho!" I thought. "It must be a pirate movie!" (Wrong, but I'm getting ahead of myself.)

Dinner at the Buffet Moni Mahal

The Buffet Moni Mahal has the best Indian buffet in downtown Ottawa or the Glebe. (I've tried them all unless a new Indian restaurant has opened in the last month.) The price is lower than most and it has a wider variety of items. In fact, at least double the number of dishes you'll find at Haveli or the East India Company.

There is always butter chicken. There is always egg plant. There is always spinach.

We both enjoyed our meals. The staff said nothing about the number of plates I used.

Moni Mahal Buffet
164 Laurier Avenue West, Ottawa, ON K1P 5J4
Tel: 613-234-8882

[Many online references have the Moni Mahal on Laurier Ave East. This is wrong. And may embarrass you if you take a taxi from Slater Street.]

There will be Blood

It's not a vampire movie and it's not a pirate movie. It's a mining movie! To be specific, it's about the early days of oil drilling, but it starts in a gold pit. It brought me back to my youth, I tell you.

I was fascinated because I've had little experience with oil. Sticking mostly with salt, coal and of course, the precious gems and minerals. But I can tell you, the scenes in the pits were realistic.

The movie also had lovely music from the London Philharmonic except that a lot of the time you could tell that something horrible was going to happen just because the music was so loud and screechy. Can't they hear those violins? Don't they know that she's about to blow?

Favourite quote: "I'd like you better if you didn't treat me like I was stupid."

Noteworthy credits:

• Standby Greens - Ryan Bust [He has an entry on IMdb; And this article says "The greensman is a specialist who decides how and where to place plants and greenery in the film scenes."]
• Albert Chi as himself [How can a movie set between 1899 and 1929 have someone playing themself? But on IMdb, I see that he is listed as "assistant: Mr. Anderson" and Paul Thomas Anderson was the Director.
  
• "This motion picture was carbon neutral" [Which is quite an accomplishment given that they had an oil well fire and some cool explosions. On the other hand, Industrial Light and Magic had lots of credits, so maybe that was all animation. Still, I had to wonder, if ILM was involved, why couldn't they make it look like the wheels on the old cars were rolling forward instead of backward?
  

All About Bob

Icemaking, Rideau Canal

Friday night with Fourth Dwarf

Being the generous fellow I am, I took a break from meta-blogging Friday evening to give a young lady a night on the town. Overall a fine evening

#1: Pub-Blogging the Atomic Rooster

"Let's try this place," I suggested figuring the name indicated a chance I could get a well-cooked chicken. My companion spotted a veggie burger on the menu she thought she could get along with.

A responsible restaurant reviewer would give the Atomic Rooster a few more tries, but I'm neither a restaurant reviewer nor responsible.

The food: Being not so hungry, I only ordered half a chicken with Garlic Smashed Potatoes and grilled vegetables. To my surprise they gave me the front half of the chicken. A white meat fan would be pleased by this, but I'm not a white meat fan. Alas, when I pointed this out to the waitress, she told me that it was all the cook had and it would take too long to cook a hind quarter. Have I been ordering whole chickens so long that I've missed this new trend in half-chicken cooking?

The Garlic Smashed Potatoes were not well-named unless a fellow named Garlic did the smashing.

The grilled vegetables were tasty.

My companion reported her veggie burger was ho hum and the salsa tasted like it came in a bottle.

Decor: Nice bright paintings on the wall. But something was missing. Can't quite say what. The space felt too much like a cafeteria. And nothing said "atomic" to me.

Extra touches: Other diners apparently had nice napkin rings and received free grapes after their meal. We did not.

Verdict: Not a replacement for the usual spot.

#2: Sexapalooza

Waiting in line to get in, a young security guard checked everyone's identification. Other adults in the line thought this inappropriate, especially for me with my long beard that has a touch of grey in it. "No, no," I explained to the incredulous attendees, "if we look like we may be 25, he has to ask."

For $15 each, we received a coupon for 30 minutes of free adult movies from the internet and had the opportunity to wander around the crowded basement of Lansdowne Park and see:

• Various items for sale that I understand are readily available in several downtown and suburban locations;
• Fully dressed woman disinterestedly demonstrating a form of dance that relies on a vertical pole;
• Other woman standing on stage and impersonating Meg Ryan at the delicatessen in
  When Harry met Sally; and
  
• A large woman tapping the naked breasts and stomach of a smaller woman who was strapped to a wooden frame. ("Very nice breasts," my companion overheard another woman say to her friend.)

In short, it was a waste of $30 because I don't need to go to Sexapalooza to find any of that. "What they needed," suggested my companion, "was lots of semi-clad beautiful men and women walking around handing out free samples."

#3: Celebrity Night at Spins'n'Needles

Aside from yours truly, I didn't spot any actual celebrities at this event. But the art was all about them. For people who didn't bring their own project to work on, the organizers had supplies for:

1. Celebrity paint by numbers
2. Celebrity collage
3. Celebrity finger puppets

I probably don't need to tell you that both my lovely companion and I decided to make finger puppets. This was a special treat for me because it was my first time using a glue gun. Wow!

People sitting near us did puppets, but also the paint by numbers. The results were stunning although we couldn't tell if the woman was Britney Spears or Lindsay Lohan and the man was either J.F. Kennedy, Matt Damon or Brad Pitt.

No question about it, Spins'n'Needles was the best part of the outing.

Denouement

On the way back to the cave, a woman who got off the bus behind us called out, "Excuse me, you dropped these, do you want them?" She held up the adult movie coupons from Sexapalooza. They had been in my coat pocket with my mittens.

"Um, uh, yes." I took them from her. "I guess they fell out of my pocket when I took out my mittens."

"I thought maybe it was your way to invite me to a movie," she said.

"Ha, ha, no," I said. "Unless you want to go to a movie..."

Welcome to the Blogosphere, Bank Street Irrelevants

Press Release:

The Elgin Street Irregulars(ESIs), today announced that they welcome the Bank Street Irrelevants(BSIs) to the Blogosphere and extend their friendship and goodwill to this new group who have taken meta-blogging to a new level of meta-meta-blogging. "Some people say Ottawa is not big enough for two metablogs," reported spokesperson Fourth Dwarf:

Bilgewater! says I. Bring'em on, the more the merrier. As my friend, the Chair, explained it to me, while we may have enjoyed our meta-blogging monopoly, it's led to a deadweight loss for our readers.

The Dwarf went on to specifically compliment the BSIs for:

• Taking obscure self-referential wanking to new heights: "We thought we were good at the obscure SRW, but with posts like My Most Horriblest Day and the Pssst series, we've met our masters."
• Coming up with such clever and appealing pseudonyms: "Especially 'the Third Elf', said the Dwarf, "who is he exactly, Hermey the Misfit Elf? Hank the Tall Elf? Boss Elf?
• Responding to criticism with art.

The Fourth Dwarf also clarified the ESI position on various challenges alleged to have been made by the ESIs to the BSIs:

Obviously, we didn't issue any challenges to them. See who can have profiles for all their members first? Would we issue a challenge we can't possibly win? Never! But I'll hear none of this nonsense that the Bank Street Irregulars are a pack of liars. It's surely our old nemeses Minty and Lana sowing discord between us with phony emails or something.

On top of everything else this week...

... we're a nominee in the Best Group Blog category of the Canadian Blog Awards.

And unlike some bloggy-come-lately wannabes that for obscure reasons have recently begun to ape our franchise slavishly, we didn't need to nominate ourselves. Thank you, Zoom, you're a lovely person. We think everybody should click on over, get clear on the rules, then vote for you in every category in which you're nominated. We already have...

Other Ottawa bloggers represented in Round One of the voting include, but are not limited to, many of our very favourites: Megan Butcher's compelling and personal Asteroidea Press (we're huge fans); RobinK's arrestingly good photoblog, Watawa Life; our very own Aggie's angst-and-craft-ridden Elgin Street Muse; the gimlet-eyed local political commentary of Miss Vickie's Offhand Remarks; Jo Stockton's Also a Talker; David Scrimshaw's Blog about life and binder clips; Andrea's No More Decorators; and finally, Mission:Control (worth checking, though we understand he's peeved with us at the moment...) We've almost certainly forgotten someone we'll regret omitting later. And of course, the scads of mainstream national political bloggers all over this city. We don't regret omitting them at all.

If you like us (you know who you are...), head on over and give us props. If you hate us (ditto...) then vote for someone else. It's all (meta)bloggy goodness.

Living Like a (Reformed) Addict

A few things have inspired me in the last few days that I'd like to share with you. As you have probably gathered, I've been in a creative rut. I have not been crafting. I'm trying to write, but not getting anywhere. I can barely get my ass out to exercise. I have been going to some free meditation classes down the street in a desperate search for inspiration and enlightenment. The meditation helps me just softly and gently embrace the rut rather than dig myself deeper in the rut, which I am rather good at.

I've come to realize that I'm an addict. I'm not pathologizing myself here. In fact, I think there are lots of us out there being addicts of something. We are a culture of addicts. Good for you if you manage not to be one.

Because I'm an addict, I've decided I should strive to live like one. This means, I have to adopt the "every day is a new day" attitude that addicts do. It also means I need to change the way I do things to accommodate my addictions. Chuck Close is a good example of someone who has done this. He rejects the idea of "inspiration" and just gets down to business, grid-by-grid. Julia Child is helping me, too. She could not be more passionate- or addicted - to French cuisine, but describes how it could take hours of work and plenty of failure to get the sauce just right -- or at least good enough to move on to the next recipe.

The PC * Primer

* Pee Clues **

Well. After one's recent snappy exchange with the ESIs' (really, probably all of Ottawa's) favorite Sassy Redhead, one feels compelled to explore the topic in more depth. You know. Put one's nose to the ground, sniff around, tread a contemplative circle for a bit, satisfy oneself that one has found exactly the right spot, and then... one digresses. It must be instinct.

She raises a valid question. Why need we be concerned if a certain partner pees on himself, and only himself, then walks into a Tim Horton's? What business is it of ours? Other than because he blogged it for the entire Internet to read, I mean.

Well. I can only speak for myself, because other members of this little consortium may (okay, almost certainly do) have other thoughts on the topic.

In my view, though, if he's going to make a habit out of this kind of thing, there are products out there that are way better adapted to some form of human riding in an auto's shotgun seat, than Coke cans.

More importantly, as one of several four-legged species that regard this form of communication with the utmost seriousness, I have to say that if he's peeing on himself, that's just a totally egregious waste of perfectly good territory-marking ammo...

** C'mon! You didn't think this was going to be about Political Correctness? Personal Computers? President's Choice? Or, Dog help us, the Progressive Conservatives? Did you?!

Exercise for Aggie

I am lazy. I need to exercise, but can't seem to make the move or commit to anything. Sounds an awful lot like my love life. Anyway, I found this wonderful guide, which gives lots of good examples of things I can do in my daily life that can gently integrate physical fitness into my life. For example, I should be marching on the spot while brushing my teeth; I should be squeezing my buttocks as I'm doing my errands; I should be trying to sit up very very straight while watching TV. All these things are designed to raise my awareness about the need for physical activity.
But, I need a concrete plan, and I'm asking for your help. There are a number of things I hate in an exercise plan, so let's just get those out of the way:
1) I hate exercise plans that require expensive gear.
2) I hate exercise that requires a personal trainer.
3) I hate stinky gyms.
4) I hate exercise that requires me to go out in the cold when I'm half awake without coffee.
5) I hate pools.
6) I hate any sport that requires hand/eye coordination.
I want a plan that will get me into top shape with minimal effort. I want it to be pleasant, achievable, refreshing and economical. Getting a dog is the obvious answer, but, again, I'm not ready for this kind of commitment.

Emergency Meeting Minutes: 2008-01-11 "The Megan Consultation"

Venue: The Usual Spot? Maybe. Maybe not.

Present: 4D, CS, Agatha, Coyote
Guests: Pandora, Woodsy
Featured Guest: Megan
Absent with lame-O excuse: I-O
Late: Chair

4D distributes vitamin D to all but Woodsy.
4D offers to take minutes so that they will be done right.

Pandora suggests that 4D also draw pictures of those present like court reporters do.

Our Consultant, Megan, arrives. Conch Shell is introduced and gets up to go.
"Any word on posting?" she is asked.

"Very, very soon. Like this weekend." And she leaves.

Megan settles in. 4D checks to see she is wearing the top that makes her breasts look shockingly large, but he cannot tell. And surprisingly, manages to refrain from public comment on the topic until typing these minutes.

We ask: Do you need a flip chart stand? 'No.' Laser pointers? 'No.'

Megan: You've fixed all your blogging problems.

Agatha: Oh, should we talk about the Bank Street people then?

Megan: The Bank Street Blog? ...Irony without earnestness.

Megan and the ESIs share thoughts on the Bank Street Blog. 4D announces that he will prepare a posting welcoming them to the blogosphere after he does the minutes.

Coyote: Or after Conch Shell posts. [to general laughter]

Megan: Maybe before...

What to do about Conch Shell?

Megan: Is there something she could do that doesn't involve posting?

Coyote: There's the tagline under the ESI title banner.

Agatha: But she wouldn't do that. We could post for her...

Megan: Or you could trick her. Email her a question?

Coyote: Does Conch Shell answer email?

4D: It's rare.

Agatha: Or a phone call.

Megan: And I guess it would only work once.

Pandora: Maybe it could be Conch Shell's job to never ever post.

Consensus: This would be workable and the worst that could happen is that the Oppositional Defiance Disorder prevalent among the ESIs would result in her actually posting.

Back to the ESIs
4D: Agatha, you were the one who first suggested we engage Megan as a consultant. What did you think she could bring to us?

Agatha: I've been feeling our group is too insular, it would be good to bring in people from outside. I would ask: What should we do more? What should we do less?

Megan: Just more of what you're already doing. One theme I've liked is the searching for a new muse. It's entertaining. Does it have to be only Ottawa?

[The Chair arrives. 4D asks if we should have any concerns about the in-a-delicate-condition T and her husband. "The one who pissed his pants?" asks the Chair. This brings up the issue of us creeping bloggers out. 4D shares a story of a blogger - a young woman who doesn't blog so much any more - who, at the coffee shop she always blogged about, had a fan appear and sit down with her. It creeped her out. "It wasn't me," 4D clarifies.]

Guest Bloggers
Megan agrees that the Andrew ZRX posting was a tremendous success. Pandora suggests that we could auction off the chance to post on our blog. The Andrew ZRX story is patiently explained to Pandora and no one says anything like "Where the hell have you been?" Perhaps because our guest consultant had everyone in such a lovely mood from her compliments and she is an ettiquettist after all.

Megan suggests we could have a contest with a skill-testing question to award the opportunity to be a guest blogger and the skill testing question could be the sort that makes them prove their worthiness for a guest posting.

Chair: Maybe we should turn into a Cat Blog.

Agatha: I love Duncan.

Megan: I would read anything Zoom wrote.

Consensus: Zoom has the best blog in Ottawa and we should do something to recognize that.

Chair: Or we could bring in Cousin Oliver [and then explains that Cousin Oliver was the kid brought in to revive ratings on the Brady Bunch, generally held to be that show's Shark Jump.]

4D: Maybe you could take on Cousin Oliver as a new persona. It might revive your interest in blogging.

Megan asks the Chair why he hasn't been blogging.

Chair: The City is getting boring.

Megan: The Mayor just got arrested!

4D: You have to understand, the Chair has been jaded for about 20 years.

Coyote: And before that he was just apathetic.

4D announces that he is ready to stop taking minutes.

Agatha: I'm just overwhelmed that Megan is here with us.

Chair and Coyote: We are not worthy! ... We are not worthy! [with the bowing and hand gestures]

Megan: Just do more of what you're already doing.

Official portion of meeting is adjourned. General conversation takes place in which further compliments are exchanged. The ESIs also interact with other patrons of the establishment, one of whom introduces himself as a reader. 4D's does a brilliant thespian portrayal of a person who is ignorant of the Elgin Street Irregulars, but the fellow persists, points out that we're sitting with AsteroideaPress and tells the 4th Dwarf that he is the 4th Dwarf.

And who are you? Asks the Dwarf, wondering why he is the only one who ever gets outed.

davewoods.ca says the young man. Who then insists he is not part of any group blog. Even though 4D narrows his eyes the second time he asks.

"Perhaps we should stop addressing each other by our aliases when we're in public," says the Dwarf after the young man rejoins his dining companion.

Mayors with Swagger

A few crime stories have been wrapped up this week, for example, Dog Thompson caught his pesky varmint and Canada Post caught the pesky kids who ruined Christmas. But we still have this business of a mayor with criminal charges. Everyone acts like it's a big deal. Sure criminal mayors are rare around here, but south of the border it's practically expected. Here's a small sampling:

Mayor Lino Donato of Poteet, Texas said he would remain in office despite his inability to set foot in city hall. That building is less than 1,000 feet from a youth recreation center and therefore off-limits to Donato, who was adjudicated a sex offender in October. [2007-11-09]

Mayor Charles Dougherty Jr. of Gate City, Virginia was convicted of 16 counts of election fraud in relation to the May 4, 2004 municipal election, mainly for submitting absentee ballots for voters who were not too sick to vote in person. [2006-7-26]

Mayor Myles Spires Jr. of Forest Heights was indicted in February 2007 and forced to step down from his mayoral position shortly after. He was guilty of felony theft and misappropriating public money for stealing $2,500 of the taxpayers’ money from town coffers for a family trip to Jamaica, six months after assuming the mayor’s office, by submitting a false reimbursement request to the town for private investigative services. [2007-10-4]

Mayor Frank Melton of Jackson, Mississippi pleaded guilty to misdemeanor weapons charges after carrying a handgun on church and school property. He was fined $1,500 and put on a year's probation. He was also asked to resign from Mayors Against Illegal Guns. [2006-11-22]

Mayor Joseph P. Ganim of Bridgeport, Connecticut was convicted of racketeering, extortion, bribery and mail fraud, among other felonies, for his role in a six-year scheme to shake down city contractors for more than $500,000 in cash, meals, clothing, wine and home renovations. The government's lead lawyer in the case mocked Mr. Ganim for claiming, during testimony in his defense, that all 52 prosecution witnesses were lying about his involvement in corruption, and that his was the lone truthful voice. [2003-3-20]

Mayor Bill Campbell of Atlanta, Georgia was cleared of charges that he lined his pockets with payoffs from a contractor but he was convicted of intentionally failing to report more than $160,000 in income on three tax returns. Prosecutors said the money was illegally obtained. Campbell said it was gambling winnings. [2006-06-13]

Mayor, Richard “Dick” Summy of Wilton, Iowa was found guilty of conspiracy to manufacture and distribute marijuana. The verdict surprised him because while he accepted responsibility for distributing the high-grade marijuana, he claimed to be innocent of conspiring to grow it. [2007-08-31]

Mayor David Spellman of Black Hawk, Colorado, was sworn in as mayor a week after pleading guilty to two charges for pistol-whipping his wife with a handgun (and firing three shots that missed her). Along with the voters, his wife also appears to have forgiven him as the couple reconciled before the election. [2006-7-11]

Mayor Spencer Schlosnagle of Friendsville, Maryland was returned to office in 1994 though he had been convicted a week before of indecent exposure and had four other such charges pending. In 2004, he was found guilty of speeding and fleeing and eluding arrest, but acquitted of second-degree assault. He remains mayor.

Thank you, thank you. No. Really!

I understand from early reports on CBC Radio One this morning that City Councillor Dog (Sic. Hah.) Thompson held a raucous little public meeting about the coyote problem in Greeley last night. Seems my brethren in the 'burbs may have eaten three smallish dogs and spread FUD (Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt) among many not-so-rural-savvy residents out there. Although many other predatory suspects are just as usual. Good luck with that project, Dog, it's a sure-fire vote-getter.

And thank you, thank you, for the unsolicited accolades, everybody! Only (semi) legendary coyote modesty prevents me from taking a well-deserved bow. Oh, and maybe the fact that I'm four-legged...

Image: Lifted by the ever-reliable FoxNews (Hah again) from a throwaway tab in the Chicago 'burbs...