You are currently browsing the daily archive for December 12, 2012.

Those friends of the decanter who may have occasion to cross paths with Real Life Robbo may rest assured that they will never, ever see him decked out in meggings.

UPDATE:  On the other hand, if fashion were to go seriously retro (by about 250 years or so), I’d be perfectly happy to join in:


Ol’ Robbo received an email a little while ago from one of the local private girls’ schools flogging a summah program which reads, in pertinent part:

“We will be previewing two new classes – Culinary Exploration and Horsemastership along with sharing memories of camp and some other fun activities.”


As John Cleese’s customs inspector says to Michael Palin’s clock smuggler about his tortuous explanations of his obvious villainy, that come out a bit glib, dinnit.

“Horsemanship” is a fine old word, much more pleasing to the ear.  Surely we’re all sufficiently secure in ourselves that we need not butcher it in the name of politickal correctness.  [Ed. – No, we’re not.  And don’t call me Shirley.]

Then there’s “Culinary Exploration”.  That’s not insecure, just pretentious.  What’s wrong with “cooking class”, if I ain’t bein’ too inquisitive?


Greetings, my fellow port swillers and Happy 12³ Day!

♦    The youngest gel and her mates, in a burst of 5th grade nerdiness, are having a little party in honor of the date later today.  I’m not exactly sure how one would go about celebrating, but I expect it will all end up like most such parties, with pizza and video games played far too loud.  (As the party will not actually be at Port Swiller Manor, thankfully this need not concern me.)

♦     Speaking of parties, Mrs. R’s mother arrives in town tomorrow for a pre-Christmas Christmas celebration.  This should be interesting:  The house is a mess, the oven is on the fritz and all of us are handing a low-grade stomach bug back and forth among ourselves.  Only thing to do, I suppose, is spike the eggnog good and hard.

♦     I see where Benedict XVI has fired off his first o-fficial Papal tweet.   I understand perfectly the reasoning behind expanding into social media, but my first thought was that this was the equivalent of the Vatican pinning a “kick me” sign to its own back, as the immediate trollish backlash which erupted on the first news of the Pope’s account the other day demonstrated.  On further thought, however, I begin to see this move more as the electronic equivalent of missionary work among the barbarians.

♦     Speaking of which, I found myself forced to “de-friend” somebody on Facebook, something I really dislike doing.   He was a high school classmate who turned up about six or eight months ago.  He usually did nothing more than approvingly re-post NYTimes articles, seemingly thinking that Maureen Dowd and Paul Krugman are teh wisest. peoples. evah.  (That tells you pretty much what you need to know.)  I was content just to ignore this, but lately the fellah’s started on a pretty obnoxious and offensive atheistic screed.   People have the right to say whatever they like, but I also have the right not to listen.

♦     Speaking of which, I love this story about Gerard Deparieu leaving France because of the Socialists’ higher taxes and how the French Gub’mint is shocked, shocked by the move.  (There seem to be similar movements among the states right here at home, too.)  It never ceases to amaze me that a certain kind of person does not understand the simple concept that people will modify their behavior to avoid what they consider undue burdens.  Remember the infamous “luggshery” tax on yachts about twenty years ago?  Far from socking the fat cats, its only effect was to damn-near kill the boat-building industry.  I also don’t understand the outrage over various businesses here planning to pass on the costs of the new health insurance mandates to their customers.  What did people expect would happen?

But then, what do I know.  I’m not from the Land of Unicorns.

♦     I love the fact that the Air Force has a sooper-sekret mini-space shuttle.   Nobody seems to know what they’re doing with it, but I hope it involves volcano-lancing.

♦     For those of you following Robbo’s beloved Nationals and the great debate over whether to keep Adam LaRoche or Michael Morse, after careful consideration this blog officially endorses hanging on to the Beast.   And yes, it comes down in the end to “Take On Me”.   (For those of you who don’t follow them, this is Morse’s theme song and is played when he comes up to the plate.  Crowd participation has become something of a specialty at Nats’ Park.)


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December 2012