Diary of a mad rumormonger

Another gray day in Bibleburg. Big Bill McBeef popped by to say howdy after his Sunday ride, and he was wearing some old long-sleeved Mad Dog Media kit, at least two iterations off the back, the real warm stuff we got from Aussie about a thousand years ago.

Naturally, being a cyclo-crosser (emeritus), I called him a pussy for wearing long sleeves so early in September. But I was slouched in my office chair with a cup of tea, in front of two large, heat-generating flat-panel monitors, editing copy for VeloNews.com, so there was little doubt as to whose manliness was in question.

We have a moment between revenue-generating chores here, so let’s take stock of what’s going on in the hairy-legged world.

First, Jim Carroll, the punk-rocking poet perhaps best known for his memoir “The Basketball Diaries” and his punk anthem “People Who Died”? He died.

Next, The Washington Post continues to undermine the notion that the media are controlled by a tiny group of media elites. (Thanks and a tip of the Mad Blog tinfoil beanie to Steve Benen at Political Animal.) Honorable mention goes to The Bibleburg Gaslight, which proudly lists the right-wing harpy Michelle Malkin as an advisory member of its editorial board, which is not unlike Sybil adding another demonic contributor to the list of voices in her head.

And finally, my buddy Hal Walter writes about net worth versus self-worth. Take a squint; it’s most definitely worth pondering over a hot toddy as you wonder why you are where you are — and where you left the snow shovel.

6 Responses to “Diary of a mad rumormonger”

  1. Charley Auer Says:

    Regarding M. Malkin; To advise someone or group, would assume some knowledge about something! Wouldn’t it?
    What Mr. Benen wrote has needed to be said for far more than a year, he is frequently right on target.
    The last comment by Mr. Walter mirrors something I have been going thru with a very dear friend. He strived hard and successfully; but missed much of what life is about. I would never trade positions.
    Very interesting reading, thanks

  2. Larry T. Says:

    I’d guess the “net worth vs self-worth” idea would be pretty well skewed to the self side based with responses from all the left-wing commies that read O’Grady’s stuff! We are certainly guilty, though I’d say the prof in the article is not really in the net side either with his history of govt and academic service. Me and the wife are in the “just say NO to real jobs” category, deciding early-on to figure out how to make a living doing something we enjoy enough to do for free–which pretty much describes most of us in the bike biz! Did plenty of not-so-fun jobs to get the wife her PHD so she can try to get 18 year old kids to think for themselves vs what the parents and TV tell them. Yours truly’s made a living (sort of) in and around the bike biz since the mid 80’s with a few breaks here and there for “jobs”. Net worth isn’t high but we’re hoping by living frugally here in Iowa it’ll eventually be high enough in 10 years or so to allow us to retire to Italy. Will we make it? Only time will tell.

  3. Jon Paulos Says:

    Under the “Blink and you’ll miss it” category was the news story this morning about the death of Norman Borlaug. I pat myself on the back for having the good taste to be born in the same state (Iowa) as Mr. Borlaug. For all the Michelle Malkins and Rush Limbaughs of the world, we have on the other end of the scales a guy like Borlaug, probably responsible for saving more lives than any single person in history.

  4. Larry T. Says:

    Yay for Iowans! I’m not a true Iowan though, not born here and not able to understand the appeal of things like pork tenderloins and loose-meat sandwiches. Except for their dining preferences I like most Iowans just fine.

  5. Patrick O'Grady Says:

    My mom was from Sioux City, and went to Central High School with Abigail Van Buren, a.k.a. Pauline Esther Friedman, better known as “Dear Abby.” Pauline’s twin sis Esther Pauline, a.k.a. “Ann Landers,” was also a classmate.

    Our family spent a number of summers in Sioux City with Grandma Maude, and the most I can say for the place is that it beat the mortal shit out of hanging around Randolph AFB outside San Antonio, which was basically a preview of where I’m headed when I die if the Bible-thumpers are right. Grandpa John Jensen (Maude’s second husband) kept a massive garden, and when the women weren’t looking let me take hits off his beer and cigar, thus helping foster my fondness for good food, strong drink and powerful smoke, the last of which I managed to shake a quarter century back.

    The weird thing is, nearly everybody in Bibleburg comes from Iowa or is related to someone there. That my teammate Dr. Schenkenstein’s dad went to Central with my mom is only one example. Hundreds more abound. Bibleburg even had a loose-meat-sandwich joint for a while.

    Lord, it’s an itty-bitty world, as Thomas McGuane once wrote. When we lived in Weirdcliffe, everyone in Pew-blow had five acres and a Tuff Shed in Crusty County, and come weekends the hills would ring with the sound of small-arms fire as drunken honkies and gang-bangers alike tried to figure out which end the bullets came out of.

  6. OMC Says:

    We salute you Sir Patrick. O’Grady


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