Get a fucking clue....
It is difficult to define friendship.
Friends that hang around.....and give you props......and say "Yeah, yeah, yeah......" OK.
Friends that are there for a while.....and hit you up for a job or a loan......and then you never see them again.
Friends that say: "Call me. I will be there for you......." and then are not around somehow.
Then there are the difficult friends.....who every time you see them...give you shit. They know you, they understand you.....and they call you on your bullshit.
Yeah, you may seem to be doing well with this and that......but they KNOW that you are lagging where it really matters.....and they know that you know that they know that you know that they know that you are basically full of shit. And they love you anyway, but.......
These kind of friends we tend to hold at arm's length.....especially when they get older.
"Who needs this?.....I gotta job to do......"
Then again......the true definition of a friend in my world is like the Irish defintion of "home": That place where if you go there, they have to let you in.....no matter what.
I have this extremely cranky and contentious friend.....let's call her "Mary Green".
Mary is my political and real estate godmother.......Ask people about Mary, and they either love her or hate her. She has never minced words......and never backed off from a fight. Mary is Old School.....out of Philadelphia....in the sort of circles that knew Fred Waring of Waring Blenders from the golf course. She spent time in Georgia.....and Berkeley.....and married a similar Old School, Old Soul guy who happened to be a 10th Mountain vet from WWII. If you don't know what that means.....stop reading. And her Old Soul husband wrote all the tests anyone reading this post ever took to get into college.......
The first party we did for Mary was a fundraiser for Neon Leon Panetta in 1978......I think he was still a County Supe, or a State Assembly guy or something. Cecil Andrus....Secretary of the Interior for Jimmy Carter, Senator Alan Cranston......they all came to her house on Jack's Peak. It was during the World Series.....and I was distracted enough by the Dodgers-Yankees thing to take a champagne cork in the eye and finish the month in the hospital.....
Mary later turned me into a Gary Hart guy. We ran the campaign locally at a profit....I was even an alternate Gary Hart delegate.....and wound up driving Mrs. Hart around California. I beat out Sylvia Panetta (a Mondale person) for the honor.....and have never been forgiven. It makes it worse that I was a Gary Hart delegate to the Democratic Convention who beat out Sylvia Panetta......and I was a registered fucking Republican. Mary backed my play.......because we ran our campaign in the black, baby......
Mary invested in my restaurants....and when the shit hit the fan......let us pile up a few thousand cases of essentially stolen wine in her garage on no notice in the middle of the night.
Still.....one day she insisted that I accompany her to a Democratic convention somewhere. At the door, they insisted on name tags. I hate name tags. Usually I pick "Kurt Cobain". This time I picked "Jimmy Hoffa".
Mary was a Robert Kennedy guy. She was a Freedom Rider type in the South when no one else would stand up in the early 60's. Depending upon the mythology, she was or was not there at the Ambassador Hotel in June of 1968 when RFK was shot......and the dreams of our young Nation died. Regardless, her soul was there, and her money, her hard work, organizing skills and prestige were there on the line for the dream that was RFK......
When Mary turned to me at the entrance of the political shindig, and saw my "Jimmy Hoffa" name tag......without conscious thought.......turned to me, and with proper weight on her back leg, with good hip rotation preceding the movement of her arm as in that required for a decent five-wood.....hit me right in the chops and knocked me on my ass, and almost knocked me out. She had good follow-through as well. Straight down the middle of the fairway. Directly upon my ass.
"There are some things that you cannot joke about, Michael........"
There are some things that are too horrible to contemplate......like assassination.
People constantly harp on Barack Obama about "experience"......
What about "judgment"?
Please watch this clip. Keith Olbermann says it all...
After today.....Hillary Clinton should not only withdraw from the Presidential race....but crawl under a rock......
And definitely stay away from Jacks Peak, California. I don't want to put words in her mouth......but I promise that Mary Green will kick her ass.......
Friends that hang around.....and give you props......and say "Yeah, yeah, yeah......" OK.
Friends that are there for a while.....and hit you up for a job or a loan......and then you never see them again.
Friends that say: "Call me. I will be there for you......." and then are not around somehow.
Then there are the difficult friends.....who every time you see them...give you shit. They know you, they understand you.....and they call you on your bullshit.
Yeah, you may seem to be doing well with this and that......but they KNOW that you are lagging where it really matters.....and they know that you know that they know that you know that they know that you are basically full of shit. And they love you anyway, but.......
These kind of friends we tend to hold at arm's length.....especially when they get older.
"Who needs this?.....I gotta job to do......"
Then again......the true definition of a friend in my world is like the Irish defintion of "home": That place where if you go there, they have to let you in.....no matter what.
I have this extremely cranky and contentious friend.....let's call her "Mary Green".
Mary is my political and real estate godmother.......Ask people about Mary, and they either love her or hate her. She has never minced words......and never backed off from a fight. Mary is Old School.....out of Philadelphia....in the sort of circles that knew Fred Waring of Waring Blenders from the golf course. She spent time in Georgia.....and Berkeley.....and married a similar Old School, Old Soul guy who happened to be a 10th Mountain vet from WWII. If you don't know what that means.....stop reading. And her Old Soul husband wrote all the tests anyone reading this post ever took to get into college.......
The first party we did for Mary was a fundraiser for Neon Leon Panetta in 1978......I think he was still a County Supe, or a State Assembly guy or something. Cecil Andrus....Secretary of the Interior for Jimmy Carter, Senator Alan Cranston......they all came to her house on Jack's Peak. It was during the World Series.....and I was distracted enough by the Dodgers-Yankees thing to take a champagne cork in the eye and finish the month in the hospital.....
Mary later turned me into a Gary Hart guy. We ran the campaign locally at a profit....I was even an alternate Gary Hart delegate.....and wound up driving Mrs. Hart around California. I beat out Sylvia Panetta (a Mondale person) for the honor.....and have never been forgiven. It makes it worse that I was a Gary Hart delegate to the Democratic Convention who beat out Sylvia Panetta......and I was a registered fucking Republican. Mary backed my play.......because we ran our campaign in the black, baby......
Mary invested in my restaurants....and when the shit hit the fan......let us pile up a few thousand cases of essentially stolen wine in her garage on no notice in the middle of the night.
Still.....one day she insisted that I accompany her to a Democratic convention somewhere. At the door, they insisted on name tags. I hate name tags. Usually I pick "Kurt Cobain". This time I picked "Jimmy Hoffa".
Mary was a Robert Kennedy guy. She was a Freedom Rider type in the South when no one else would stand up in the early 60's. Depending upon the mythology, she was or was not there at the Ambassador Hotel in June of 1968 when RFK was shot......and the dreams of our young Nation died. Regardless, her soul was there, and her money, her hard work, organizing skills and prestige were there on the line for the dream that was RFK......
When Mary turned to me at the entrance of the political shindig, and saw my "Jimmy Hoffa" name tag......without conscious thought.......turned to me, and with proper weight on her back leg, with good hip rotation preceding the movement of her arm as in that required for a decent five-wood.....hit me right in the chops and knocked me on my ass, and almost knocked me out. She had good follow-through as well. Straight down the middle of the fairway. Directly upon my ass.
"There are some things that you cannot joke about, Michael........"
There are some things that are too horrible to contemplate......like assassination.
People constantly harp on Barack Obama about "experience"......
What about "judgment"?
Please watch this clip. Keith Olbermann says it all...
After today.....Hillary Clinton should not only withdraw from the Presidential race....but crawl under a rock......
And definitely stay away from Jacks Peak, California. I don't want to put words in her mouth......but I promise that Mary Green will kick her ass.......
posted by Txacoli at 9:39 PM
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