This is the time of year when I pretend that I'm a real entertainment reporter, blogging on American Idol. I tell myself that it doesn't make any difference that nobody sees it but me - I just have so much fun doing it. But it'd be even more fun if a few other American Idol fans were reading it.
Anyway, the serious blogging will start with the Top 24, which I think is in two weeks. But I want to give a heads up - a few of my favorites, performers I'm sure will end up in the top 24. Or at least, who ought to be there, assuming they don't forget the words or totally screw up in some other way.
My early favorite is Crystal Bowersox. She's a dreadlocked single mom who was outstanding on "(You make me feel like) a natural woman" Tuesday night. Her performance was so infectious that her competitors who were sitting in the audience spontaneously started singing backup. I can't wait to hear more from her.
I remember liking Andrew Garcia's audition, so I was glad when he gave an even better showing, performing an acoustic version of Paula Abdul's pop hit from the 80s, "Straight Up". When I heard what he was planning to do, I winced; it was hard to imagine it would be good. But it was amazing.
Michael Lynche watched his wife give birth on his iPhone last night. Okay, that's not why he's a memorable performer, but it's kind of cool anyway. His solo performance was John Mayer's "Waiting on the world to change", not one of my favorite songs, but he did it well. And he was awesome in his group performance last night, too, even though he obviously had a few other things on his mind, like his new baby daughter.
Lilly Scott came out in peacock-feather earrings (three eyes on each side!) and did "Lullaby of Birdland". I hate her hair, which is probably supposed to be platinum blonde but appears white on camera, but I liked her singing. Kara called her "refreshing".
Then there's our favorite stripper, Casey James - he's the contestant who took off his shirt when Kara and guest-judge-of-the-day (was it Victoria Beckham?) requested him to. He's eye candy, one of the best-looking guys on the show this year. He's also got some talent, although I'm not sure he's top-24 material. I'd like him to go on a little further just so I can keep looking at him. His solo performance was, according to Michael Slezak on EW, John Mayer's "I Don't Need No Doctor". He did well in his group performance, too.
Haeley Vaughn is a 16-year-old black singer who auditioned with a Carrie Underwood song. She's being marketed as a kind of country-pop singer, music more traditionally associated with white girls. I think she's adorable and fun to watch. Her solo was a Taylor Swift song, "Change", and even though her notes weren't all true she was entertaining.
Didi Benami performed a Kara DioGuardi piece as her solo, "Terrified". She wasn't 100% accurate, but overall, she was a compelling performer, and she deserves credit for having the guts to do it in front of Kara.
That's it for now. I'm going to go ahead and publish this.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
New Year's Not-Quite-Resolutions
I think New Year's resolutions are pointless, and they just set you up for failure. So I resisted making any firm ones. Instead I made a few resolution-like decisions - call them New Year's Suggestions. For example, I decided that if I were making resolutions, I'd resolve to eat more salads. I bought a bag of mixed greens on New Year's Day, and ate salads for four days in a row. I could have had one last night, too, but I had fresh butternut squash instead. I know I could have had salad, too, but I just didn't feel like it. And it wasn't actually a resolution, anyway, and even if it was, it wasn't "Eat salad every day" - it was "Eat more salads", which I've been doing.
If I'd made resolutions, I also might have resolved to get fit for hiking again, something I've wanted to do since I recovered from my left knee replacement surgery. I can walk up hills as long as they're paved. I did a short hike nearby last summer, and it was still difficult to use my left leg to lift myself up steeper parts of the hillside. I'm not sure how to proceed, which is why I didn't make a firm resolution. In my imagination, I'd have some kind of hiking coach. I'm considering emailing the Appalachian Mountain Club: "Hi, I'm pushing 60, fat and have a fake left knee, and I want to start hiking again." After they stopped laughing, they'd probably let me down gently. Or maybe they have a program for aging overweight hikers with knee issues. Right.
Last week we watched a series of "Everest: Beyond the Limit" episodes. One of the climbers had had a knee transplant (not a replacement), and I was hoping he'd do well. He didn't. The climber they described as "larger" didn't make it to the summit, either. I doubt I could ever climb Everest - and maybe I only want to because they burn off 15,000 calories a day just trying to stay alive, and I can just imagine all my fat disappearing. But maybe I could make it a goal to climb Mount Washington (which I climbed during my twenties) again. I should be able to do that on a fake knee, don't you think?
If I'd made resolutions, I also might have resolved to get fit for hiking again, something I've wanted to do since I recovered from my left knee replacement surgery. I can walk up hills as long as they're paved. I did a short hike nearby last summer, and it was still difficult to use my left leg to lift myself up steeper parts of the hillside. I'm not sure how to proceed, which is why I didn't make a firm resolution. In my imagination, I'd have some kind of hiking coach. I'm considering emailing the Appalachian Mountain Club: "Hi, I'm pushing 60, fat and have a fake left knee, and I want to start hiking again." After they stopped laughing, they'd probably let me down gently. Or maybe they have a program for aging overweight hikers with knee issues. Right.
Last week we watched a series of "Everest: Beyond the Limit" episodes. One of the climbers had had a knee transplant (not a replacement), and I was hoping he'd do well. He didn't. The climber they described as "larger" didn't make it to the summit, either. I doubt I could ever climb Everest - and maybe I only want to because they burn off 15,000 calories a day just trying to stay alive, and I can just imagine all my fat disappearing. But maybe I could make it a goal to climb Mount Washington (which I climbed during my twenties) again. I should be able to do that on a fake knee, don't you think?
Monday, December 14, 2009
Christmas from a deep hole
This is a very difficult time of year for people who are isolated by depression and loneliness. Every time you look at a newspaper, a magazine, or a commercial on TV, you see another happy family celebrating together, making cookies, baking bread, wrapping presents, maybe healing old wounds. You see people coming home or visiting each other. You see friends hugging each other. You see huge smiles as presents are exchanged.
And then I look at the empty room around me. I look at the wall where I would put up any Christmas cards I received. It's empty. So far, the only card I've got came from the person who delivers my newspaper, a total stranger hoping for a large tip.
I stopped sending Christmas cards a few years ago because there was never anything exciting to report about my life. My kids are grown, so I can't hide behind their achievements any more. And writing about what I do just was too - well, depressing. Still single, with no hope of that ever changing. Still struggling from paycheck to paycheck. Another year closer to the end, with no hope of ever getting that warm, friendly Christmas I can't avoid seeing everywhere else.
I miss receiving Christmas cards. The bright-colored pictures, the friendly notes, all make the house that much warmer and less of a lonely place. When I was a kid, my parents sent out over 100 Christmas cards, and got at least that many back. My mom hung them from ribbons strung on the wall behind the dining room table. (She still does.) As an adult, I never received anywhere near that many. I thought it was a personal failure, but maybe it's just a sign of the changing times.
At church there's a bulletin board where you can hang a single card, then donate the rest of what you would have spent. Maybe I'm miserly, but I'd rather have a card hanging in my living room where I can look at it and know that somebody was thinking of me. For a depressive, the little things are important. It'd be a warm glow in an otherwise shadowed and dark place.
Originally I wanted to write this as a short paragraph for a Facebook status update, but I ran over the character limit. If anybody reads this and would like to exchange cards with me, it could make my Christmas a little less empty and lonely. Right now I have no hope for the future. People keep telling me it has to come from within myself. But a Christmas card could help me find it there.
And then I look at the empty room around me. I look at the wall where I would put up any Christmas cards I received. It's empty. So far, the only card I've got came from the person who delivers my newspaper, a total stranger hoping for a large tip.
I stopped sending Christmas cards a few years ago because there was never anything exciting to report about my life. My kids are grown, so I can't hide behind their achievements any more. And writing about what I do just was too - well, depressing. Still single, with no hope of that ever changing. Still struggling from paycheck to paycheck. Another year closer to the end, with no hope of ever getting that warm, friendly Christmas I can't avoid seeing everywhere else.
I miss receiving Christmas cards. The bright-colored pictures, the friendly notes, all make the house that much warmer and less of a lonely place. When I was a kid, my parents sent out over 100 Christmas cards, and got at least that many back. My mom hung them from ribbons strung on the wall behind the dining room table. (She still does.) As an adult, I never received anywhere near that many. I thought it was a personal failure, but maybe it's just a sign of the changing times.
At church there's a bulletin board where you can hang a single card, then donate the rest of what you would have spent. Maybe I'm miserly, but I'd rather have a card hanging in my living room where I can look at it and know that somebody was thinking of me. For a depressive, the little things are important. It'd be a warm glow in an otherwise shadowed and dark place.
Originally I wanted to write this as a short paragraph for a Facebook status update, but I ran over the character limit. If anybody reads this and would like to exchange cards with me, it could make my Christmas a little less empty and lonely. Right now I have no hope for the future. People keep telling me it has to come from within myself. But a Christmas card could help me find it there.
Monday, September 28, 2009
The Amazing Race kicks off
The Amazing Race kicked off again last night. I love that show. It gives me a peek into a world tour, with some totally bizarre local customs, things I'd never see otherwise, featured. This year there's a couple from the Boston area, Lance and Keri. I think they were told to use a Boston accent when they gave their brief intros, because I haven't heard it intrude into any of their speech since. They're a little annoying. There are a couple of Harlem Globetrotters, Flight Time and Big Easy, two very likable guys. There are the gay brothers, the poker-playing girls (who lied and said they worked with the homeless), the older couple (the woman is a little hyper), the super-pure Christian types, a guy with Asperger's syndrome and his friend, a former Miss America and her husband...and already two couples have been eliminated. I'm relieved the yoga instructors were the first to go. Every time that guy Eric opened his mouth I wanted to scream. He was so smug. When they lost, he said, ''To be the first team eliminated, now the shame, the pain is gone for everybody else. We took a beating for everybody.'' AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaa!!!!!
The first stop on the tour was Tokyo, Japan, where they competed in a game show. I already knew Japanese game shows were odd (that human Tetris one, where contestants had to fit through shapes that were moving towards them, for example), so the wasabi-bomb game didn't seem that far out of the ordinary. One of each pair of contestants had to eat a large amount of wasabi spread on rice and wrapped in what I assume was seaweed. I'm not a huge fan of sushi, or I'd be able to remember what they call that stuff. Nori? My older son would know. (So did Google - it's nori.) I can only consume a small dab of wasabi, though, and was surprised that the contestants managed to gobble down such a large amount without passing out.
My younger son was watching the show with me, and he had just played a video game set in the Shibuya area of Tokyo, where the contestants were seen walking. Wikipedia lists two Nintendo DS games set in this area. I'd ask him, but he's at work. (AT LAST! He finally got a job last week.) (It's at Staples and doesn't pay much, but there's opportunity for advancement.)
The first lap of the show was a non-elimination round, not a surprise, I guess, since they'd already eliminated somebody at the beginning of the show. The poker-playing liars women came in last after losing two of the 20 people they were supposed to have escorted to the pit stop. I would have been delighted to see them go, but no, we're stuck with them for a little longer. Oh, well, at least they're entertaining, and their lies aren't going to hold up for long - a Japanese poker fan recognized them.
The teams went on to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. Here they had to spread mud around fruit trees (supposedly it would help them to grow) and one team member had to herd ducks. A couple of people remarked that after that they were planning to eat duck for supper. I can imagine...Anyway, Garrett and Jessica were eliminated. They hadn't made much of an impression on me yet, so I don't have much to say about it.
I might end up blogging this show the way I do American Idol. We'll see how I feel next week.
The first stop on the tour was Tokyo, Japan, where they competed in a game show. I already knew Japanese game shows were odd (that human Tetris one, where contestants had to fit through shapes that were moving towards them, for example), so the wasabi-bomb game didn't seem that far out of the ordinary. One of each pair of contestants had to eat a large amount of wasabi spread on rice and wrapped in what I assume was seaweed. I'm not a huge fan of sushi, or I'd be able to remember what they call that stuff. Nori? My older son would know. (So did Google - it's nori.) I can only consume a small dab of wasabi, though, and was surprised that the contestants managed to gobble down such a large amount without passing out.
My younger son was watching the show with me, and he had just played a video game set in the Shibuya area of Tokyo, where the contestants were seen walking. Wikipedia lists two Nintendo DS games set in this area. I'd ask him, but he's at work. (AT LAST! He finally got a job last week.) (It's at Staples and doesn't pay much, but there's opportunity for advancement.)
The first lap of the show was a non-elimination round, not a surprise, I guess, since they'd already eliminated somebody at the beginning of the show. The poker-playing liars women came in last after losing two of the 20 people they were supposed to have escorted to the pit stop. I would have been delighted to see them go, but no, we're stuck with them for a little longer. Oh, well, at least they're entertaining, and their lies aren't going to hold up for long - a Japanese poker fan recognized them.
The teams went on to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. Here they had to spread mud around fruit trees (supposedly it would help them to grow) and one team member had to herd ducks. A couple of people remarked that after that they were planning to eat duck for supper. I can imagine...Anyway, Garrett and Jessica were eliminated. They hadn't made much of an impression on me yet, so I don't have much to say about it.
I might end up blogging this show the way I do American Idol. We'll see how I feel next week.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
So You Think You Can Dance
Last night I attended the live performance of the Season 5 top 12 dancers of So You Think You Can Dance. For anyone who isn't sure what this is, it's a TV reality show where dancers compete, and it's addictive. The tour came through Boston last night, and I bought cheap seats.
That may have been a mistake. My seats were on the floor at the Agganis Arena, which is designed for basketball and hockey. I couldn't see a thing except for what was on the Jumbotrons. Every time I looked towards the stage, spotlights shone in my eyes.
I dragged my younger son along (he had watched the season along with me this past summer). He's a big person, and I'm a big person, and the seats were the portable ones which, while padded, were designed for easy storage rather than comfort. Before the show, I bought a t-shirt, black, with the tour stops listed on the back and all of the dancers pictured on the front. I put it right on over the shirt I'd worn to work. I was wearing a long purple skirt, so I'm sure I looked ridiculous, but I didn't care.
We were surrounded by tweener girls. The five girls in the row in front of us looked like sisters. During the intermission, the older woman with them (Mom, I assume), bought them all t-shirts (the same one I had already bought for myself) and posed them for pictures. Oh, by the way, it said on the tickets that cameras were prohibited. Odd, everybody seemed to have them anyway. One of these girls yelled "I love you, Jeanine!" at a very quiet moment. (Jeanine is the dancer who won the competition this year.) I think the girl was more pleased than embarrassed, and I'm sure Jeanine didn't mind, either.
I'm not sure how many girls there were behind us - four or five, anyway. One of them kept yelling "I love you, Kupono!" He's the hot Hawaiian dancer. She has good taste.
The woman sitting next to me kept standing up because she couldn't see. After somebody behind us told her to sit down, she and her daughter left. I suspect they went upstairs to find some standing room with a view. One of the little girls from behind me came up and sat on the back of the seat at the end of the row. Nobody yelled at her to get down; maybe she wasn't blocking anybody's view. After awhile, I moved into the empty seat between us (where the woman had been) and found I could see a little better. I caught a few glimpses of the dancers. When I tried to take a picture with my phone, all I could see was bright lights, though.
The show was great. They did all of the best routines from the season - the one where Evan couldn't keep his eyes off Randi's ass, the Bollywood routine danced by Jason and Caitlin, the addiction piece danced by Kupono and Kayla, and my personal favorite, the breast-cancer dance done by Melissa and Ade. You can't watch this without choking up. At least I can't, and last night was no exception. When Phillip (the "popper", an untrained dancer who was tremendously appealing) did his solo routine, he got a standing ovation with the loudest cheering of the night. And there was a running gag involving Phillip, Jeanine, and the Russian folk dance that was one of the most poorly received dances of the season. They kept coming on stage and trying to perform the dance, and the other dancers kept chasing them off. Once they came on in some kind of medical scrubs, pushing a gurney (a prop for the next routine) which turned out to have the boom box with their music for the dance on it. Finally, towards the end, all the dancers ended up doing the Russian folk dance together.
After the show, we walked to Kenmore Square because there were so many people already waiting for the subway up by the Arena. When we got there, there was a mostly empty car on a train that was going all the way to North Station (so many Green Line trains stop at Park Street or Government Center, and we have to change for the Orange Line, which you can only do at Haymarket or North Station). We sat near some people who had also been at the show - we compared t-shirts.
It was after midnight by the time we got home. This morning I let myself rest until almost 6 instead of getting up at 5:30 as I usually do. I'm still a little out of it today. But it was worth it. I can never make myself do anything that takes me out of my comfort zone - like going out on a weeknight. This time, I went ahead and did something.
That may have been a mistake. My seats were on the floor at the Agganis Arena, which is designed for basketball and hockey. I couldn't see a thing except for what was on the Jumbotrons. Every time I looked towards the stage, spotlights shone in my eyes.
I dragged my younger son along (he had watched the season along with me this past summer). He's a big person, and I'm a big person, and the seats were the portable ones which, while padded, were designed for easy storage rather than comfort. Before the show, I bought a t-shirt, black, with the tour stops listed on the back and all of the dancers pictured on the front. I put it right on over the shirt I'd worn to work. I was wearing a long purple skirt, so I'm sure I looked ridiculous, but I didn't care.
We were surrounded by tweener girls. The five girls in the row in front of us looked like sisters. During the intermission, the older woman with them (Mom, I assume), bought them all t-shirts (the same one I had already bought for myself) and posed them for pictures. Oh, by the way, it said on the tickets that cameras were prohibited. Odd, everybody seemed to have them anyway. One of these girls yelled "I love you, Jeanine!" at a very quiet moment. (Jeanine is the dancer who won the competition this year.) I think the girl was more pleased than embarrassed, and I'm sure Jeanine didn't mind, either.
I'm not sure how many girls there were behind us - four or five, anyway. One of them kept yelling "I love you, Kupono!" He's the hot Hawaiian dancer. She has good taste.
The woman sitting next to me kept standing up because she couldn't see. After somebody behind us told her to sit down, she and her daughter left. I suspect they went upstairs to find some standing room with a view. One of the little girls from behind me came up and sat on the back of the seat at the end of the row. Nobody yelled at her to get down; maybe she wasn't blocking anybody's view. After awhile, I moved into the empty seat between us (where the woman had been) and found I could see a little better. I caught a few glimpses of the dancers. When I tried to take a picture with my phone, all I could see was bright lights, though.
The show was great. They did all of the best routines from the season - the one where Evan couldn't keep his eyes off Randi's ass, the Bollywood routine danced by Jason and Caitlin, the addiction piece danced by Kupono and Kayla, and my personal favorite, the breast-cancer dance done by Melissa and Ade. You can't watch this without choking up. At least I can't, and last night was no exception. When Phillip (the "popper", an untrained dancer who was tremendously appealing) did his solo routine, he got a standing ovation with the loudest cheering of the night. And there was a running gag involving Phillip, Jeanine, and the Russian folk dance that was one of the most poorly received dances of the season. They kept coming on stage and trying to perform the dance, and the other dancers kept chasing them off. Once they came on in some kind of medical scrubs, pushing a gurney (a prop for the next routine) which turned out to have the boom box with their music for the dance on it. Finally, towards the end, all the dancers ended up doing the Russian folk dance together.
After the show, we walked to Kenmore Square because there were so many people already waiting for the subway up by the Arena. When we got there, there was a mostly empty car on a train that was going all the way to North Station (so many Green Line trains stop at Park Street or Government Center, and we have to change for the Orange Line, which you can only do at Haymarket or North Station). We sat near some people who had also been at the show - we compared t-shirts.
It was after midnight by the time we got home. This morning I let myself rest until almost 6 instead of getting up at 5:30 as I usually do. I'm still a little out of it today. But it was worth it. I can never make myself do anything that takes me out of my comfort zone - like going out on a weeknight. This time, I went ahead and did something.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
In the Dark
Last night, I was settling in to watch "More to Love" (a guilty pleasure; I wouldn't even set the DVR to record it) when the power went out.
It was around 8:30 on a beautiful evening, warm and pleasant. Most of our power failures are weather-related, but that wasn't the case here. I looked out the window, and all the houses on my street were out. I decided to go out and walk around a little, to see if I could figure out how widespread the power failure was. Even though I tried to see where my cat Peaches was before I opened the door, he managed to bolt out. What can I say? It was dark. He immediately dashed across the street. My son started to chase him, but soon gave it up. Stupid cat.
The sky was still glowing with light pollution. The clouds appeared illuminated. But there were no lights in the houses for as far as I could see. A lot of the neighbors came out into the street to see what was going on. I think it's funny; I hardly know my neighbors, I only see them when something like this happens. And, of course, it was dark, so I couldn't see them very well even then.
Back inside, I dug out some candles and my cheap glass candlesticks, and my son and I illuminated the house with candlelight. It wasn't quite enough to read by, but it was pleasant. My son commented that he had wondered about how people in the past, before electricity, could really see after dark; he didn't think candles would provide enough light. But they did.
Eventually Peaches came home. I was relieved. He was clearly pleased with himself, to pull one over on us like that. Stupid cat, to cause us unnecessary worry.
I've lived in this house for six years, and I don't remember any power failure lasting longer than half an hour. This one lasted two and a half hours. I went to bed about an hour and a half into it. I had to brush my teeth by candlelight. I woke up again when the lights came back on (and not just because my son cheered).
So it wasn't until this morning that I found out how "More to Love" had come out. Really, I just watched it for the fashions! But Luke (the bachelor, who resembles my younger son and at 26 is really too young to be getting married) asked Tali, the beautiful Israeli girl and my favorite among the finalists, to marry him. I wonder how it'll all turn out. Will they really get married? Or will it be like every other Bachelor/ Bachelorette show ever recorded? (Except the first Bachelorette, I guess; they got married, and they're still married. I never really watched any of them.) Will anybody ever do an article on where the contestants bought their beautiful clothing? I've been looking for a new sundress all summer, and there were several I would gladly buy as long as they weren't too expensive.
It was around 8:30 on a beautiful evening, warm and pleasant. Most of our power failures are weather-related, but that wasn't the case here. I looked out the window, and all the houses on my street were out. I decided to go out and walk around a little, to see if I could figure out how widespread the power failure was. Even though I tried to see where my cat Peaches was before I opened the door, he managed to bolt out. What can I say? It was dark. He immediately dashed across the street. My son started to chase him, but soon gave it up. Stupid cat.
The sky was still glowing with light pollution. The clouds appeared illuminated. But there were no lights in the houses for as far as I could see. A lot of the neighbors came out into the street to see what was going on. I think it's funny; I hardly know my neighbors, I only see them when something like this happens. And, of course, it was dark, so I couldn't see them very well even then.
Back inside, I dug out some candles and my cheap glass candlesticks, and my son and I illuminated the house with candlelight. It wasn't quite enough to read by, but it was pleasant. My son commented that he had wondered about how people in the past, before electricity, could really see after dark; he didn't think candles would provide enough light. But they did.
Eventually Peaches came home. I was relieved. He was clearly pleased with himself, to pull one over on us like that. Stupid cat, to cause us unnecessary worry.
I've lived in this house for six years, and I don't remember any power failure lasting longer than half an hour. This one lasted two and a half hours. I went to bed about an hour and a half into it. I had to brush my teeth by candlelight. I woke up again when the lights came back on (and not just because my son cheered).
So it wasn't until this morning that I found out how "More to Love" had come out. Really, I just watched it for the fashions! But Luke (the bachelor, who resembles my younger son and at 26 is really too young to be getting married) asked Tali, the beautiful Israeli girl and my favorite among the finalists, to marry him. I wonder how it'll all turn out. Will they really get married? Or will it be like every other Bachelor/ Bachelorette show ever recorded? (Except the first Bachelorette, I guess; they got married, and they're still married. I never really watched any of them.) Will anybody ever do an article on where the contestants bought their beautiful clothing? I've been looking for a new sundress all summer, and there were several I would gladly buy as long as they weren't too expensive.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Daily entry
Yesterday I wrote on a different blog. Does that count? Of course it does, if I say so. It's not as if I had a huge audience here (or at the other location either, for that matter). I wish I did...but then I'd have to come up with something interesting to say, every day. Which I also wish I did. I've got so many fascinating thoughts. All I need to do is get them out of my head and onto the page.
Since Senator Ted Kennedy died, I've been thinking about him and how much he will be missed, not just by Massachusetts but by the entire country. He was one public figure whose heart was in the right place. I voted for him every time he came up for reelection, because he always represented me - us - so well. As far as I could tell, he truly cared for people. He didn't abuse his wealth and power the way so many others do. He wasn't perfect, but I don't want to recount his faults right now. I'm too busy brooding over my own...
Since Senator Ted Kennedy died, I've been thinking about him and how much he will be missed, not just by Massachusetts but by the entire country. He was one public figure whose heart was in the right place. I voted for him every time he came up for reelection, because he always represented me - us - so well. As far as I could tell, he truly cared for people. He didn't abuse his wealth and power the way so many others do. He wasn't perfect, but I don't want to recount his faults right now. I'm too busy brooding over my own...
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