Paul Ryan’s Wife is a Plant

Ohhh…

A look at Janna Ryan: ‘She’s going to bloom where she’s planted’

That’s not what CNN meant?

Janna Little Ryan comes from a political family and was already a successful Washington tax attorney and lobbyist by the time she was 30.

Well, whether plant or animal, its clear she’s yet another Rand-ite Republican (at least via marriage) who has never held a job in the private sector that they claim that they worship.

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If Mitt Romney’s Vision Had Controlled America in 1969, We’d Never Have Gotten Any Farther Than Albuquerque

That Other Event from the Summer of 1969

From CNN:

Neil Armstrong, the first man to walk on the moon, has died, his family said Saturday. He was 82.

“We are heartbroken to share the news that Neil Armstrong has passed away following complications resulting from cardiovascular procedures,” his family said in a statement obtained by CNN affiliate WKRC.

From me, from the Nov. 26, 1999 issue of the Texas Triangle:

An Obligatory End-Of-The-Century Article

This type of thing will be prevalent as the year draws to a close, so I thought I’d get mine out of the way now. And I do reserve the right to do an end-of-the-millennium article in addition to my usual end-of-the-year rant – so be prepared. This one, however, deals with centuries: not only this one and the next one, of course, but also the last one. Three centuries for the price of one. Never say that I don’t give good deals when it comes to trendy retrospectives.

Speaking of threes – this column is about one of my three sets of grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. James Miller.

They were the oldest of the three. I reminded them of that quite a lot. Now, you might think, that’s mean. It wasn’t at all, though – and they knew it.

Remember – my age at the time was in the single digits. I thought that their having been born in the 1890’s and being able to tell me about things that happened in the last century were cool beyond belief. When I’d tell folks how old they were it wasn’t insulting, it was bragging. Granted, I really can’t speculate as to whether it made them feel good or bad, but I always made it clear what I meant – and they understood.

Oh – about one of those numbers above. It wasn’t a typo. I meant three sets of grandparents.

My father’s parents lived up near Aggieland and my mom’s parents lived in Mississippi (I leave it up to the judgment of the readers as to whether calling existing in Mississippi “living” constitutes misrepresentation.) They weren’t absent from my life by any means – but I never connected with them either. I’ve no doubt that they would not have approved of the path I’ve wandered down in life.

The Millers were as much, if not more, of a part of my family than either set of my “real” grandparents. They simply weren’t my blood relatives. Hopefully, anyone out there with a non-traditional family can grasp this concept. Grandma and Grandpa Miller started out as my babysitters. Along the way, I got the notion that all old folks were grandparents and, since I saw these old folks all the time, they must be one of my sets of grandparents.

After all, what’s an extra set of grandparents between friends, eh?

I could go into into detail about why they mean so much to me – all sorts of mental recollections that are much more vivid than the black-and-white Instamatic photos that go along with them. But that would bore you as much as any of your stories about your relatives would bore me.

Still, I can’t help but thinking abou them as the 20th century draws to a close – and I tend to write down what I think about. Go figure.

The Millers died long ago – Grandpa in 1979 and Grandma in 1982 (in my article about my buddy Sophie Patterson, Grandma was the 88-year-old I mentioned, who I saw fading in and out of reality.) They never dealt with my transition at all. My guess is that neither one would be able to comprehend the words “transgender” or “transsexual.” On the other hand, I’ve no doubt that they would have accepted me. I know they wanted me to be happy.

The only time I ever heard grandpa utter any words in anger was after the gas station that he ran was robbed. The only two people who I ever heard grandma speak ill of were Richard Nixon (big surprise, eh?) and Muhammad Ali.

OK – I have to admit that I don’t particularly agree with that second one. Her complaint was that he dodged Viet Nam to protect his “pretty face.” Considering what has become of him (the Parkinson’s disease – or whatever it really is), Grandma may well be getting the last laugh anyway.

Maybe all of that isn’t much to go on to figure out whether someone would accept a surrogate grandson transitioning into a surrogate granddaughter. But I do know that they cared about my being happy.

What does all this mean in these daze overly-grandiose, psychotically-commercialized, inherently-idiotic end o’ century celebrations?

Not much.

However, it does mean that, on a likely snowy winter New Year’s Eve night here in Southern Minnesota, irrespective of whether my computer stops working at midnight, I’ll be able to greet the new year, the new century and the new millennium with thoughts in my head of thirty years earlier having sat in front of a big-ass black-and-white console TV and watched the moon landing with a woman who had a run-in with Pretty Boy Floyd, and a man whose parents had personal recollections of the Civil War.

Three centuries for the price of one.

I think that’s pretty fuckin’ cool – and I always will.

Its going to be that kind of day.

This, Of Course, Will be Lost on Those for Whom Facts and Logic are Kryptonite

You know..

christianist Republicans.

From Bill Maher:

Question: How come preventing chaos and civil war in Iraq was enough to say, “Bush’s surge worked,” but averting a complete financial meltdown and second Great Depression isn’t enough to say, “Obama’s stimulus worked”?

What say you Mitt?

Pic of the Day: Aug. 25, 2012 (Earlybird Edition)

Out in West Texas for no apparent reason, sometime in the spring of 1999.

Yeh, Mr. Etch-a-Sketch, But WE Have Asked to See YOUR Taxes!

Show us your taxes or STFU!

Romney Morality