What's All This Fuss About The Presidential Erection

 So the party of my grandparents, parents, and myself screwed the pooch yesterday like never before. They put up the second most unelectable candidate (Biden would have been number one) against a convicted felon, and lost. Worse -- they lost the Senate and House, and just about all local races I cared about, notably Amendment 4, giving a state right to abortion, failed.

It's funny -- when the Canes lost a big game, I never blamed the other team, I blamed them. The 1987 National Championship? Vinny Testaverde threw 5 interceptions, the worst as we were about to run the ball in for the winning score. The Ohio State fiasco? We should have put the game away and not relied on fair officiating.

And so it is with the Dems. NY Times columnist Brett Stephens was spot on today -- a longtime neocon who voted for Harris because he feared the craziness of Trump. But he set forth very well how the Dems have become the Party of priggishness and holier than thou behavior. Think too many illegals are coming in? You're racist. Complaining about inflation? You're a jerk.

And so now we have 4 years of populist conservatism. 

Truth is, much of the GOP is good for what I care about. I'm a rich guy -- taxes will be lower. I won't have to scramble around now worried about estate taxes. I care a lot about Israel -- no fears that Harris would pander to the Palis in Michigan and Minnesota. But I care MORE about my country, and wanted Trump to lose. He won. As Tony Soprano said -- yeah, but what are ya gonna do?

D1 reminded me she freaked out in 2016 when Trump won the first time, and I reminded her to look to the East -- the sun had indeed risen. And it rose today, too.

Being too involved in politics is like celebrity worship -- the celebrity can't care less about you. Or as a better meme said -- loving a politician is like thinking a stripper really likes you.

A lot of my friends in the educated, privileged bubble are scandalized. Not me. I'm mildly annoyed.

Nothing is guaranteed -- as my son in law Jonathan's family knows all too well. They were enjoying a wonderful life in Venezuela, until my consuegra learned a former nanny's boyfriend had a plot to kidnap the kids for money. She moved everyone to a hotel in Caracas, and left the next day for Miami.

Hopefully things in the US don't get untenable, but if they do -- well -- you have to be ready to leave. I sure hope I don't have to learn a new language like many of my friends' parents had to do after Castro took over in Cuba.

I don't see things getting that bad, long term. Oh sure, lots of women will die for inability to get abortions -- like happened in Ireland for years until the people realized entrusting their futures to the pedophilic Catholic Church maybe wasn't the smartest way to go.

As for the Democrat Party? Maybe it's FUBAR --pandering too much to the extreme Left to care about centrists like us.

They really were sin verguenca, as the Cubans say. They tried to foist a demented Biden on us, until his debate performance showed he needed a nursing home, and then simply anointed his successor without the vetting of a true convention. And what a weak candidate she was -- never really took a position, except to call Trump a Nazi. As Dr. Phil said -- how'd that work out for her?

Meanwhile -- we got some livin' to do. I brought home a nice virus from LA, which is thankfully passing now -- hopefully be gone by tomorrow.

Saturday Paul and I are hosting a dinner -- our firm's 30th anniversary! We turn 30 on November 15th. When we first shook hands over glasses of Stoli, and pledged to treat each other well and fairly on the memory of our late fathers, we truly thought it was a decade project.

We'd bust ass, and do whatever it took to succeed -- and look to wind down about 2004. Somehow we've kept slouching around, and will host our kids this weekend. Three decades. Man -- that's something.

All I can keep thinking of is the great Jimmy Buffet line: "Good times and riches and son of a bitches, I've seen more than I can recall."

Hopefully Trump and his crew don't mess us up too badly. I kinda like it here in the US of A.

Coming Back From Los Angeles -- Not Bringing In Any Keys...

So early Friday Wifey was up and drinking my wake up coffee, and we were fetched at 6 am for the drive to MIA. We met D2 and Jonathan at Centurion for breakfast, and soon were off for LA. Everything was seamless and on time -- a pleasure.

We checked into the One Hotel in West Hollywood -- gorgeous. Each person we met was top notch -- it was a comical contrast to the nasty folks we encountered last Fall at the Philly RC, where the clerk who checked us in was openly hostile -- like a Wayan Bros comedy. Not this time!

D2 had been told to have lunch at the Tower Hotel, a 20s Art Deco property a few blocks' walk down Sunset. We did, and it was lovely. And Wifey loved it -- true Hollywood history -- ALL of the Golden Agers stayed there, as well as Bugsy Siegel and Truman Capote, and Wifey took photos of the historic photos. We ate on a deck with a view of Downtown LA in the gorgeous S Cal weather -- a lovely welcome.

In the evening, we met at the hotel bar for a pre game, and old friends Neal and Cheryl walked over with their dog Bowie, named after the rock legend died. Neal is a MAJOR music engineer/producer with multiple Grammy awards, and is so humble you'd think he was a salesman for some small company. We heard all about their kids and lives over the years since we saw them last -- in Miami -- on their way to a Caribbean sailing trip. We made plans to meet the next am to watch the Canes games -- they're both big fans.

We Ubered over to a neighborhood indeed next to , as Mike described, the "Zombie Apocalypse" near Skid Row. The place was The Wolves -- kind of New Orleans looking -- and we greeted all the old crowd. Amanda was glowing, and we got to meet her future suegra, a lovely Angelino named Miley. We ate cheeseburgers and grilled cheese, and drank. We left around midnight, which was 3 am body time for us.

And early the next am, came the only "blip" on our experience -- VERY noisy neighbors to D2 and Jonathan, engaging in things, apparently best left underdescribed. Hey -- it happens -- and as Jonathan noted -- it could have been worse -- the noise could have been coming from Wifey and MY room. They alerted the front desk, and I left early to meet Cheryl and Neal and Bowie at a hotel which was formerly known as the Riot Hyatt, on account of it's where Led Zeppelin stayed and wrecked the place.

It was much quieter these days, and we watched the Canes lose the first half before storming back to dominate and win the game. Wifey, D2, and Jonathan joined us, before the younguns left to visit some friends. Cheryl said even our upscale hotel was the scene of bad LA crime -- last year some miscreants in hoodies carrying automatic weapons stormed the place and robbed everyone at the bar. And it happened AGAIN a few months later. I guess California IS a good place for that -- with gun control the bad guys probably felt emboldened. I'm not a gun guy, but in Miami that kind of stunt would have ended differently -- clearly some of the young guests would have been armed and fought back...Anyway...

We gathered at 430, and Ubered to the wedding venue, a 1920s former architect's house -- neat, funky place. The ceremony was lovely -- Amanda's brother Chris officiated, and he was charming and moving. I caught up with Mike's old high school friends, who were also friends of Eric's from Killian High -- comparing our lives and soon to come or already here retirements.

We left around 1030 (130 body time) and looked forward to sleep. Unfortunately, D2 and Jonathan were awakened again at 5 am with their next door neighbors antics. This time it was less funny. Wifey negotiated nice room credits and other benefits -- and the hotel manager has already reached out -- truly sorry and ashamed it happened. Hey -- it's LA -- people come to party, even if such party includes goats or other animals bleating away...

We got to LAX, and left right on time again. I took a nap, and awoke with a sore throat -- clearly picked up a bug from all the people we were around. It seems to be just a cold -- I'll test for the Plague in a day -- gotta be all better for Saturday -- Paul and I are celebrating our firm's 30th anniversary!

But the real meaning of last weekend was the joy of our friends. Mike is NEVER emotional, and he was crying as he danced with Amanda to the Beatles's "In My Life." The groom Daniel was crying as well -- he truly found his soul mate in our dear Amanda.

So back from the Left Coast. As always, great to be home...