This is important stuff. If you love freedom, I urge a few minutes to read this blog post on Dan Gillmor’s eJournal and the article to which he links. Fear is killing freedom in our country.

Everybody just quit pestering the president about the economy and jobs. He’s trying to show the president of Mexico a good time. Presumably, so wee can keep going down there for margaritas, and they can keep coming up here for work. And besides, he says everything’s cool.

Did Martha Stewart’s lawyers blow it? Do you care?

On Feb. 22, I posted that a hearing was taking place to decide the posthumous military rights of the grandfather of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I’ve followed up and found this page, which says the petition was denied.

Nicholas Márquez Mejía was a colonel in the War of a Thousand Days, and never received his pension.

Well, there he goes. The World’s oldest man has died at age 114.

It occurs to me that now any of us can take the record. Keep breathing. And don’t forget the tomatoes, fish and olive oil.

Well, it was a slow day here in Lake Wobeg … Ooops, I had delusions of stature there. But it was a quiet day in my hometown. Nice and warm.

I spent most of the morning reading blogs and messing with the newly resurfaced blog-city stuff. I don’t know about that; to go to all that trouble to upgrade, but the bells and whistles are no more intuitive than they were, and there’s still no spell check.

My brother and his family arrived this evening from northern california. It’s great to see them and have them here for a few days’ visit.

That’s it. There were some sirens nearby a little while ago, but they went past; I don’t think they stopped on my block. No dogs escaped today. I don’t really care about Martha Stewart. … it’s life in the slow lane here, as it should be.

Weak isn’t the word that jumps to mind for me. How about crappy? Pathetic?

21000 jobs in February. And if you read the stats, you see that the government added 21000 jobs in February. Which means the net increase in private sector jobs is zero, zip, zilch. Thanks Mr. President! We’re all just loving this dark, damp Pirates of the Carribean ride you’ve got us on.

Yahoo! News – Job Growth Weak With 21,000 Feb. Hires

Hoping for a pop in jobs in a few hours? Don’t bet on it.

A writer and teacher in Newtown CN gives advice on the life and craft, in The Newtown Bee

And like a poet, a writer just seems to know it simply because he or she simply must do it.

“You have the urge, the compulsion. There are so many different kinds of writing, you might start writing poetry, an essay or a memoir,” Ms Basch said. …

“Workshops can be instructive and supportive. Writing is so lonely, you need colleagues every step of the way.”

I had a big scare this evening. I was over at my folks’ place. They were out; in fact, they were 20 miles away. I went out in the back yard to clean up dog poop. Our two dogs went with me, and ran off to enjoy the grass and bushes and check the fence line for velociraptors.

Happy usually goes around the west side of the house to use the bathroom, and I headed that way too, but stopped in Dad’s tool shed to answer the phone. I patiently gave a man my Mom’s mobile number, twice, then got the pooper scoopers, and headed around the west side of the house. Then I saw that the gate was wide open to the front yard — to the neighborhood, the street, to oblivion for a little dog.

I was sure that Happy — a little Pomeranian who looks like Piper, below — was out and gone. I ran through the gate, slammed it, ran to the street and looked around. She was nowhere. I went back to the house, trying to reach my Mom with my cell, but of course she was talking to the Man I’d just given her number to. I went through the front door, yelling for Happy, trying to whistle which isn’t easy when you’re winded and upset. She came running into the hallway to meet me. I picked her up and hugged her, and thanked God.

I guess she never went around that side of the house, and trotted back inside like a good little dog. Both dogs seemed concerned with my frantic state, my furious relief. Listen, folks, be careful with your little ones, OK? For dogssake, shut the friggin gate.

An article about Kerry at The Nation. Some interesting insights into his Senate career.

What’s Right With Kerry

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