Sunday, August 14, 2005


... and I wake up early this morning and grab the L.A. Times at my door. Mistakenly thinking I'd gotten away from New Mexico politics, I start reading the front page and there's an article about ... you guessed it ... Bill Richardson.

It's a pretty positive story -- and New Mexico Republicans will hate reading again that Richardson "slashed taxes."

There is mention of local grumbling about Richardson's "high-handed manner." And there's this:
More serious doubts about Richardson center on his style, including the carefree — some say careless — attitude he sometimes has in public. (In political circles, it is usually phrased as doubts that Richardson has the "discipline" to run for president; he was famous in Washington for his ribald sense of humor and penchant for late-night, cigar-smoking conviviality.)

"He's a likable guy, a personable guy" who has "obviously been in a lot of roles," said Stuart Rothenberg, a nonpartisan campaign handicapper. The question, Rothenberg said, is: "Does he have the stature of a future president? Does he behave the way presidents ought to?"
What a weird concept. Cigars could stop Richardson from becoming president?

Two other things make this article remarkable. It's one of the few Richardson profiles I've seen lately that doesn't mention Wen Ho Lee. And it might be the only one that doesn't quote Joe Monahan.


I'm writing this at an internet cafe near LAX. There's a pay internet machine at my hotel, but the other day, it ate one of my blog posts -- and never spat it out.

I was blogging about a strange character I met in Anaheim. No, not Goofy. It was this dude behind me in line at In-N-Out Burger. He asked to speak to the manager about a job. A few minutes later he was at a table near us, berating some poor wife or girlfriend. "I saved your fucking life FOUR TIMES, and you never said `Thanks.' Do you LOVE ME? DO YO LOVE ME?. The poor woman said she did.

Then he went into an angry white man rant. "They won't hire me here because I'm white and because I'm an American. That's discrimination. They hate me because I'm WHITE. They should go back to wherever they came from ..."

Something tells me this guy's ethnicity wasn't why he was passed over for this job. Ironically, two of the people on duty at the restaurant at the time were Anglo kids.

He started getting louder and crazier demanding his woman give him a root beer. She held her cup up in front of his face. "Where's my soda? WHERE'S MY FUCKING SODA ..."

I talked to one of then workers. "Oh he comes in all the time," he said. "He says he's going to run for governor."

I say watch the news for spree killings in Orange County.

Back to my vacation ...

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