Archives for August 2007

D. recorded the Republican presidential debates last Sunday morning, and later that afternoon we sat down and watched every single minute.

Over the last week I’ve taken a little time to process it all, and I think I have some reactions that you probably haven’t found in the mainstream media.

And as a result of my reactions, I feel compelled to address what I feel is a critical, all-but-ignored issue during this presidential debate season: the Republican candidates’ hair.

ALL IN GOOD FUN, OF COURSE.

And let me be very clear about something: I am grateful to every single one of these men for being willing to serve his country in the most demanding job in the world. Even when I disagree with a political candidate, I have great respect his or her willingness to lead us. Oh yes I do.

But I still need to talk about this hair issue or else my head will explode. Because internets, I haven’t seen so many (ALLEGED) bad rugs since the last time I was in a low-end carpet warehouse.

It was shocking, really.

And while it is tempting to shy away from this topic because I generally try to steer clear of politics, I feel that I have to confront these issues head-on (pun TOTALLY intended). It’s a public service as much as anything else.

So let’s take a candidate-by-candidate look. Unless otherwise indicated, all photos are from ABC.com – since, regrettably, my camera and I were not in Iowa for the debates.

And I’m going to say something nice about every candidate before I discuss his hair because I am Southern and I can’t help it.

Tom Tancredo

Nice thing: He got the only “awwwww” of the whole debate out of me when he said his greatest regret was that it took him thirty years to accept Christ as his Savior.

Hair thing: Typically salt and pepper hair tends to be a little more, um, blended. So we either have salt and a hairpiece OR salt and a smattering of Grecian Formula. I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt by going with the latter. Mainly because of the Jesus thing.

But my gut tells me that there’s some sort of adhesive involved in his hairdo. And it truly saddens me.

Mitt Romney

Nice thing: He was completely in control throughout the debate – articulate and dignified – and judging by the fact that he won the Iowa straw poll, his performance must have impressed voters.

Hair thing: There’s no doubt that Governor Romney has a full head of his own hair, but it’s too fixed for my taste. If I can see defined layers in a man’s hair, I start to worry that he spends more time in the salon than I do. And I just feel that any potential leader of the free world probably has more important things to worry about than having his layers sculpted. Call me crazy.

Ron Paul

Nice thing: He was no-nonsense and outspoken in the debates. Absolutely nothing about his performance seemed calculated, and for that reason alone he was a breath of fresh political air.

Hair thing: It’s all his, baby. He’s gray and he owns it. No complaints from me. Because, you know, I’m sure that of all the post-election feedback Dr. Paul received, his utmost concern was FORGET THE POLLS – WHAT DID BOOMAMA THINK OF MY HAIR?

John McCain

Nice thing: Any way you slice it, this man is a patriot, a real-live American hero.

Hair thing: Well done, Senator McCain. Your hair is natural, age appropriate, and it doesn’t distract from your message. Which, frankly, can hardly be said for some of the other candidates.

Like, for instance…

Duncan Hunter

Nice thing: It was obvious that he is passionately supportive of our troops in Iraq. And he also made some good points about why he thinks it makes sense to finish what we started over there.

Hair thing: Oh, bless his heart. It’s the hair that time forgot – very Robert Wagner as Jonathan Hart circa 1982. And the fact that it looks like he has pulled one part of the hairpiece down to the side of his face – so that he gets some fake hair / real hair blending – just makes for a situation that would drive any professional hairdresser to tears.

My advice? Lose the (ALLEGED) rug. One good Iowa wind, and that puppy is gonna set sail for a cornfield.

Mike Huckabee

Nice thing: He came across as the quintessential nice guy, completely down-to-earth and approachable. He was grandfatherly, almost – in sort of a Ronald Reagan way. Only younger.

Hair thing: I spent a considerable portion of the debate trying to figure out if he was wearing a toupee’ or not. I don’t think he was – I think his hair was just super-shellacked – but if I had been in Iowa, I would have moved heaven and earth to touch his head so that I could get a definitive answer.

And then I would’ve promptly been escorted to jail.

Sam Brownback

Nice thing: His comments made it clear that his family is his heart and soul. And he is crystal-clear about his stance on some of the bigger issues, which is increasingly unusual in the era of sound bites.

Hair thing: All I could think was that his hair looked like he had rolled it. Especially in the front. And while certainly I don’t believe that he rolled it, I do believe that his advisors should tell him to cut it, because he’s walking a fine almost-televangelist-‘do line. And you know, a little pouf on the top is fine for a televangelist. It puts him one inch closer to heaven. But on a Presidential candidate? Not so much.

Tommy Thompson
photo from cnn.com

Nice thing: Governor Thompson had some great insight into the state of health care and why he feels America gets it wrong. He’s a common sense kind of guy, it seems, and I appreciate that.

Hair thing: I couldn’t help but wonder if a small bird landed on his head and decided to rest there for the debate’s entirety.

A bird which may or may not have been three to four shades darker than his natural hair color.

I’m just sayin’.

Rudy Giuliani

Nice thing: He was surprisingly well-spoken, and he oh-so-naturally utilized specific, relevant examples from his time as mayor of NYC.

Hair thing: Mr. Giuliani wins my Best Hair Prize. Which technically doesn’t exist, but if I had one, I would absolutely give it to him. There were no attempts to cover up the balding or the gray, and the hint of a buzz cut was fun and practical.

Also: his tie was SMOKIN’.

So. I think that about covers it.

And I have no doubt that Americans will pull together and go to great lengths to help these candidates discover hairstyles that are on the cutting edge. I mean, I certainly don’t want to split hairs, but I do believe that we need to be vigilant, and I for one plan to go over future debate hairstyle trends with a fine-toothed comb.

(As a brief aside, I would just like to say that, after almost two years of blogging, I’ve never written a more pun-laden paragraph than the previous one.)

(And for some reason, that makes me strangely proud.)

Well, Alex has the croup.

Perhaps you’ve heard his stunning impersonation of a seal the last two nights between the hours of midnight and 4 AM.

REALLY? ME, TOO!

So, D. has gone to church all by his lonesome, the sick boy and I are home, and I have set a couple of lofty goals for myself: 1) deciding whether or not to try Flickr 2) cooking something and 3) making sure I have showered by late afternoon so that I can go to church at 6.

Ambitious, aren’t I?

And OH! OH! I’m also going to try to bake a cake – because Mama has given me permission to share her pound cake recipe with the internets. I have two sticks of butter and five eggs coming up to room temperature as I type this. I am understandably thrilled.

This next week is going to be super busy for us for lots of reasons, with Alex starting preschool at the top of the list. Honestly, I don’t have any words to explain my feelings about HOW CAN IT POSSIBLY BE TIME FOR THIS, but last week I ran across a picture I took of the little man back in the spring, and I think it says everything I can’t.

He’s just getting so big.

It would just be wrong if I didn’t let you know that our internet AND our cable came back on last night. Apparently it was “an area problem,” and when entire areas are affected by an outage, the cable people hop to it, all johnny-on-the-spot and such.

Of course, I like to think that they read my post and were skeered.

Because I am delusional.

In other news, it’s still unbearably hot.

In fact, it’s so hot that I wouldn’t let our dogs stay outside last night. Our dogs were always inside dogs until we moved, at which point Maggie the Lab decided that the indoors caused her to yelp repeatedly. Because CHAIRS! ROOOOOOO! TABLES! ROOOOOOO!

Ally the Mutt, on the other hand, was still absolutely fine with the indoors, because the rugs, oh the rugs are so delightfully soft and the windows, well they are spectacular because they afford a view of all the many unsuspecting creatures that she one day plans to chase, but these things are no fun at all, apparently, without Maggie. Since Maggie wanted to be outside, preferably in the garage, Ally wanted to be outside, and – I think you see where this is going – they have both been outside, except when it was cold, ever since.

But last night it was hotter than blue blazes at midnight, and they were panting like crazy, and I told them that they must come in the house, and that was an order, and here! here! are some delicious bone-shaped, chicken-flavored treats with which I will entice you!

And they were not interested.

So then I took a Very Special Blanket and spread it out on the floor, and I said look! look! I am offering you some fabulously plush accommodations, as if this were a Four Seasons for puppy dogs, and yet they were still not interested. They just stood at the kitchen door, panting, waiting for me to up the ante a bit.

But then Ally took another look at the chicken-flavored treat. And she took a bite. And then, as she ambled into the kitchen, she looked around and was all, “Hey. It rocks in here. I’m all about it, Mama.”

Maggie, however, wouldn’t budge.

Because LAMPS! ROOOOOO! And APPLIANCES! ROOOOOO!

But then I whispered, “Hey. Maggie. The internet is up again. AND CABLE, TOO!”

Except I think we all know that I didn’t really whisper that at all.

I did, however, offer her two more delicious chicken-flavored treats.

At which point she walked right in the laundry room, refused to lie down, and for all I know stood in that exact same spot until I took those two crazy canines for a walk this morning.

However, she did not ROOOOOOO one time. Not even a ROOO. Or a RO.

Between that and the fast cable service, I think we’re on a bit of a roll.

So earlier this afternoon I was trying to tend to a little bloggy business after Alex and I got home from some errands, and after I tried to access my email for about the fifth time, I thought, Hmmmm, perhaps something is awry with the interweb.

At which point I said what I always do when computer problems present themselves: “HUSBAND?!?! HUSSSSSSSS-BAND?!?!”

He loves it when I do that. It’s such a soothing interlude in the middle of a stressful workday.

After some basic troubleshooting, he realized that the problem wasn’t something we can fix (and by “we,” I clearly mean “he”), so he called our internet provider. They’re scheduled to be at the house tomorrow morning, and it’s pretty much a given that I will twitch and tremor with abandon betwixt now and then.

Because did I mention that the television cable is out as well? ON THE NIGHT WHEN “Top Chef” COMES ON?

And here’s the thing: I didn’t really have anything all that urgent to do on the computer tonight – just some emails I need to follow up on and that kind of stuff – but I’m telling you, the realization that I can’t access email at my house makes me a little glossy eyed. I mean, I might as well be a pioneer or something. In ye olden days.

It’s like I’m Laura Ingalls Wilder, only without the sassy bonnet and the cute, calico-print dress. And, you know, a wagon.

So about two hours into our completely involuntary technology detox, I started mumbling something about “Panera, need to get to Panera, if I could just get to Panera with the laptop I could CHECK THE EMAIL.” And lest you think I’m completely crazy, there’s a specific email I’ve been waiting on, one of those where you sort of cross your fingers everytime you hear your inbox ding with a new message, and not being able to check my email has left my OCD up the proverbial creek without, well, a high-speed internet connection.

And who would ever, EVER want to be up a creek without a high-speed internet connection? NOT MY OCD, I’ll tell you that much right now.

Anyway, after supper when I looked at D. with my left eye blinking fast enough to generate enough power for a small kitchen appliance and asked, “So. Do you want me to go to Panera now? Or after Howard’s bath? Because the email? I need to check the email,” he immediately said, “Now! You can go now! We don’t mind! You can go now!”

My OCD is fun for the entire family, as you can tell.

Of course when I finally checked my email I didn’t have The Message I was waiting on, but I did have – HOLD ON FOR THE IRONY – an email offer for telephone service from our internet service provider / cable company.

I wanted to reply and tell them how – funny story! true story! – tonight I actually had to LEAVE MY HOUSE to check my email and use the internet, so if they can promise that same level of service with the phone, then SIGN ME UP!

Oh, life is funny.

And I guess I’m going to go home now and read. Or weave thread on a loom. Or churn butter. Or something.

There’s just not a bit of telling.