First Looks category archive

Fun and fellowship for liberals. Join us tomorrow and enjoy the afterglow.

When: Thursday, November 8h, 6 p.

Where:
Croc’s 19 Street Bistro
620 19th Street (Map)

More here.

and his entire staff.

Working the polls.

Vote. It’s not a right. It’s a duty.

And turnout is the best way to keep them from frauding the election.

Animation Via MoJo.

The Orlando Sentinel’s Scott Maxwell is also longing for the end of the campaign.

Facebook isn’t safe anymore either.

In the old days, I’d roll my eyes when people rushed to post pictures of their breakfast: a freshly poured glass of orange juice with a witty cutline like: “juice. yummy.”

Now, OJ seems downright nostalgic compared with the woman bragging about how she stiffed her waitress out of a tip simply because the waitress was wearing an Obama button — and the customer wanted to teach her a lesson about wealth redistribution. (More depressing was the gleeful chorus of “likes” from those pleased about her sticking it to the minimum-wage worker who dared to have a different opinion.)

About the only persons who don’t want it to end are the punditocracy, who will have to come up with their own ideas once more, at least for a while.

In this house, we have not answered the telephone without checking the caller ID for weeks.

We check the caller ID and then don’t answer the phone.

Anyone who cares to can leave a message, which we then delete.

Database issues. Looks like I’ve got it stabilized and just lost a few posts from yesterday and this morning. We shall see.

I hate databases.

The bridge over the railroad tracks in Narberth always looked rickety to me as I crossed it back when I lived there. It still looked rickety when I took First Daughter to lunch at the Greeks’ back in July (and she got me a Greek’s 90th Anniversay tee-shirt!).

Now it’s closed.

Via Contradict Me.

As of right now, the worst is supposed to be north of us, so the local broadcast media is not yet in “Ohmygodweareallgonnadie” mode.

Not yet.

Clouds are already looking ominous.

Addendum, 12:51: Raining enthusiasstically.

Addendum, Nighty-Night Time: The rain shower ended in about an hour. Since then, clouds, no apocalypse. My ISP sent me a useless email assuring me that they are on the job. I know they are on the job; I have my beefs with them, but stability is not one of them.

But this gem from Delaware Liberal, followed by this one admitting at least one–er–mis-prediction.

My old stamping grounds are ground zero for landfall.

Off to drink liberally.

Via Balloon Juice.

Fun and fellowship for liberals. Join us and talk about anything in a relaxed atmosphere.

When: Thursday, October 25th, 6 p.

Where:
Croc’s 19 Street Bistro
620 19th Street (Map)

More here.

Reactionaries (re)in action.

Via Balloon Juice.

In Cali. Where else?

A gray, 2-inch rock that hit a Novato home is the first confirmed chunk of the meteor that dramatically exploded over the Bay Area, a scientist said Sunday.

Lisa Webber, 61, found the meteorite in her yard on Saturday, three days after the object fell onto the roof of her home on St. Francis Avenue. She had heard a strange sound at the time but didn’t think twice about it until she read a Chronicle story saying debris from the meteor would be found in a band stretching east of San Rafael toward Napa and Sonoma.

Actually, this is a neat story, especially as no one got hurt and no damage seems to have been done.

Kerry Dougherty, professional curmudgeon for my local rag, someone with whom I usually disagree, is spot on in her remembrance of Roger Oberndorf.

I met Roger over two years ago, at the opening city council campaign event for my friend Andrew Jackson, on the hottest day of the century (well, I might exaggerate slightly, but not much–it was not a good July day for a outdoor fish fry in a backyard notably lacking in shade). We never became close–just casual acquaintances who met from time to time at various events.

It was Roger who explained to me the reasoning behind the screwy system here in Virginia Beach for electing city council; he did it clearly, concisely, and patiently.

He always had time for strangers.

He was a good man.

It died long ago, a victim of boredom (of the readers). It’s about Time (heh) someone noticed.

I suspect that, as a digital entity, it will be the Geocities of news sources, hanging on by its electrons long after the crowds have faded away.

Deep in the wilds of Chesapeake.

In Sunday’s local rag, Carl Fincke describes his experience sailing on a container ship as a paying passenger from Philadelphia to Panama.

A luxury cruise ship it wasn’t, but he had a great time.

It’s a good read.

Off to drink liberally. Join us.