Weeping, Wailing, and Gnashing of Teeth

For my beloved Dodgers allowed the Phillies to win the pennant after five games. I watched it to the bitter end, and called my poor husband late in the night for consolation. He thought it was cute (insert eyeroll here). My takeaways from the series: Rafael Furcal should not get the Golden Glove award for this year (4 errors in the series, 2 in one inning in the last game), Brett Myers should keep whatever lucky rabbit's foot he's managed to pick up, and Manny Ramirez needs to stay with the Dodgers. He was a consistent hitter, and the blame for the losses cannot be laid at his feet because the Dodgers kept stranding him. I hope, as he's considering all those $25+ million contracts, that he remembers the club and the fans that welcomed him (MAN-NY! MAN-NY! Plus the dreadlock hats) after he left the Red Sox. Speaking of the Sox, last night's game was very interesting. Whoever wins that series, I hope the Phillies stomp all over them. It may sound strange, but I've found my father's saying to be true: If you're going to get beat, get beat by the best.

I've found this past week to be fascinating in the political world. The polls (the reliable ones, not the ones with a 40-20 sample in favor of the Dems) are tightening, McCain won the debate Wednesday night, and Obama was revealed as a socialist. Seriously, "spread the wealth around" as a campaign slogan?! What I found interesting was the Obama and (as Ed Morrissey calls them) the Tanning Bed Media reaction to the quote. They didn't defend it, they went after the man who dared question The One. Good grief, do you have to be a saint to ask a question of a potential elected representative? He didn't consent to appear in a campaign commercial, he didn't volunteer to be on anyone's political payroll, he just asked a question when Obama came to his neighborhood. It just sickens me that Obama and his minions have no qualms gunning for an average American.

Pooky's coming home tomorrow! I had to call the airline this morning to change his reservations, but once you say the magic word (military), things flow smoothly. I've got to wrap the last of his birthday presents and do a little housecleaning, but I'm definitely ready for him to come home. Apparently he misses his wife's cooking. And maybe, just maybe, his wife as well.