Friday, August 06, 2004


Based on reader feedback, last week we had to remove Sammy Haggar from the "Dissenters to Be Crushed" list we've been asked to compile for John Ashcroft every week. Contrary to initial reports, it appears likely Sammy is a Bush-Cheney supporter. This week's revision may have to be done for John Fogerty. He was characterized as a "dirty old hippie" by Chris from Omaha yesterday. But now Bill Tuomala, (of Rocks Off and the New York Times) writes in with this:

Just had to take exception with your Omaha reader on John Fogerty.

Like or dislike his politics or songs, John Fogerty is not and never was a hippie. Creedence Clearwater Revival was a working-class band that crafted music in the tradition, sound, and spirit of the classic Sun records recordings. While the whole hippie acid trip thing was blossoming/festering in San Francisco; CCR - from El Cerrito, an Oakland suburb across the bay from San Francisco and Haight/Ashbury - simply made great, timeless rock 'n' roll singles, one after the other. As far as Fogerty being dirty, I dunno. He looks pretty clean cut to me, though in the rockabilly vein he may be greasy.

Oh, and you may be interested in this book, Kill Your Idols. Jim Walsh read his chapter at the Ruminator last week . Very twisted, dark (and great) stuff.

Staying on the hygiene theme, the Golden Girl wrote in to comment on Serena Williams's remarks (quoted yesterday) about her awful, horrendous, miserable, horrible working day:

Poor Serena. Boo hoo. She needs to follow me around sometime to see what "awful" truly can be. I'm a podiatrist, and most days are pretty good, believe it or not. I see runners, little kids, generally healthy folks, and nobody dies (yet, knock on wood). But when it's bad, awful can't begin to describe it.

Yesterday I walked into a room to see a new patient. She was 90-something, demented and recently admitted to a nursing home where it occurred to someone to take off her socks. The poor woman hadn't had her toenails cut since, oh, probably, the Carter Administration. Think Gail Devers fingernails attached to the feet of a woman who looks like Sméagol and swears like Whoopi. Can we get her out of the wheel chair? No. Ok, sure, I'll sit on the floor (why do I ever wear a skirt to work?). 45 minutes and $28 from Medicare later (no, wait, it'll actually take me 4 months to collect my $28 from Medicare) I'm done.

Now, I'm sure tennis camp was tough, but I have a bachelors degree, masters degree, doctor of podiatric medicine degree, and three years of residency behind me, and I'm sitting in a pile of fungus dust for 28 bucks. Which after I pay my overhead, adds up to me owing about $300 for the last 45 minutes. I'm not looking too smart right about now. (And Kerry wants to raise my taxes because I'm not one of the "working people of America".) Awful, horrendous, miserable, horrible, thy name is NOT tennis.

I probably should have warned you not to read that if you're just sitting down to lunch. Oh well, at least you can feel slightly better about what ever awaits you upon clocking back in this afternoon.

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