back to the Black Table
               
  INCOMING! OCTOBER 25, 2004.  
   
   
 

Monday

Happy Election Day!

No, I don't have the wrong month. Yes, I'm wearing a bear suit. No, it's not as comfortable as I had envisioned. Yes, it makes typing difficult. No, I'm not stalling for lack of something interesting to write. Yes, there is an actual election taking place today.

The election is being held in St. Kitts. I'm not sure where St. Kitts is. Some place warm, I think. The Caribbean? West Indies? I have no clue. Does it matter? Sorry. Probably does. Elections are very important. Especially on small tropical paradises that rich, white Americans visit on occasion.

Incumbent Denzil Douglas hopes to lead his Labor Party to victory against political rival Lindsay Grant

   
 

and the People's Action Movement Party. I have no real favorite to win. The People's Action Movement Party sounds very progressive and energetic, though. I would have loved to have seen their convention. I suspect it was heavy on the spandex and jazz hands. But in the end I don't care who wins. As long as they don't tax my pina coladas, I'll happily support either candidate.

Today is also Cartoonists Against Crime Day. Seems like it was only last October 25 that it was Cartoonists Against Crime Day. Because it was. I remember when Marmaduke took down the Russian Mafia with one madcap dash through a Red District brothel. Oh, that Marmaduke! What a riot! And who can forget when the Family Circus kids accused their priest of fondling them? Adorable! Sure, Father Dan was later found innocent, but it was a hoot seeing how therapy-induced False Memory Syndrome could lead to such a wacky mix up.

 

 
 

Tuesday

Boys and men rejoice: Today the new edition of Grand Theft Auto is released. For those of you without penises, or those of you who have real grown-up-type jobs, Grand Theft Auto is one of the most popular video games of all time. Noted for its provocative storylines, high-end graphics and stylized violence, GTA is in a class of its own. I've spent many a bleary-eyed nights playing the game, and I can vouch that even though I felt dirty and inconsequential afterwards, it was lot of fun killing and fucking shit up. In real life I wouldn't ever think of running my car over a pimp or a ho, but in this game it's, like, perfectly acceptable. It's almost as if the pimps and ho's are begging you to run them over. It's awesome.

Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas is the fifth title in the series, and it promises to deliver all the high-

 
 
 

flying action and violence of the previous entries. In the game you're a struggling geologist down on your luck. Your dog has left you, your favorite restaurant has closed due to an outbreak of hepatitis A and you forgot to TiVo last week's episode of "Wife Swap." Worst of all, you haven't been able to kill any pimps or ho's in the last few weeks because your mean boss Professor McAfee has made you work overtime grading papers and calibrating a new high-tech Geiger counter. Just when you've decided to quit and go live in a commune (cult?) a cute undergrad told you about, Mother Nature has other ideas and strikes her wrath down upon the land of San Andreas with the earthquake of all earthquakes. Now it's up to you to get the definitive Geiger counter reading … and to kill as many pimps and ho's as possible.

Wow. Can't wait to play the thing. I'll eat and drink nothing but Hot Pockets and Red Bull today. Then when my wife comes home from work to watch the kids, I'll escape to the attic and play the game until 4:30 in the morning. It's gonna be intense.

 

 
 

Wednesday

Game 4 of the World Series takes place tonight in St. Louis. Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez and the rest of the New York Yankees will most likely be looking for a sweep over the Cardinals -- oh, wait a second, sorry. My bad again; the Yankees aren't playing in the World Series this year. Silly me. It's just with all the trash-talk last week by Black Table contributors about how the Yankees were going to destroy my hapless Boston Red Sox, it's hard to believe that New York won't be trying to win their 27th World Championship. No, instead it's the Red Sox who will be going for their sixth title, and their first in 86 years. How about that?

Oh well. Easy come, easy go, Yankee fans. It's not like your team lost in embarrassing fashion or anything. It's not like they were up three games to none in a best-of-seven series and were winning

 
 
 

4-3 in the ninth inning of game four against the Red Sox and somehow managed to blow not only that game but the rest of the series, as well.

Oh, wait a second again: It was like that. It was exactly like that. Ouch. Sorry, New Yorkers. Didn't mean to remind you of it. At least you have those 26 championships to be proud of, and I don't think the biggest collapse in professional sports history will tarnish that legacy. That much. At least take solace in the fact that your squad was a plucky little crew that tried really hard to win against a team that in the end was far their superior. Perhaps someday (in at least the next 86 years) the Yankees will be able to avenge the loss. They're a lovable team of crazy, pesky overpaid thirty-somethings, so keep the faith, Yankee fans!

As for my Red Sox, who knows where tonight's game will find them? Perhaps they'll be up 3-0. I don't know, and right now I don't care. A huge weight has been lifted and curse or no curse, this team has changed for the better. Rooting for the Red Sox has changed for the better too, because from now on every taunt of "1918" can be returned with a taunt of "2004." For me, that's enough to make this the best season ever. I hope they win the Series, of course, but if not "there is always next year" and I'm happy I can say that clichéd phrase with a level of optimism and confidence with which I have never have been able to before.

 

 
 

Thursday

National John Kerry Meetup Day is today. Party down, America! All over this great land people are getting together and sharing their passion for the Democratic Presidential candidate from Massachusetts (which incidentally is the home of the 2004 American League Champion Boston Red Sox).

It's just five days until the real election day (suck an egg, St. Kitts!), and it's getting to be serious nail-biting time. I know first hand. Between postseason baseball and forever checking the latest electoral vote predictions my fingertips are nothing but dried and cracked nubs. I keep hoping Kerry will reveal his manicure secrets in a stump speech, because God knows my cuticles could use the help.

Although I'll be voting for Kerry next Tuesday, I won't be attending a meetup today. I'm not big on meetups in general. The last one I went to was a meetup for fans of Star Jones. Talk about a disappointment. They were all women. Don't get me wrong: I love women. Heck, I married a

 

 
 

woman. But it came as somewhat of a shock to find that there were no other men in my area who were as enchanted by the former lawyer and current daytime talk show personality as I was. What gives? Men can be so ignorant sometimes. Am I right, girlfriends?

As of this writing things are still neck and neck in the election. But Karl Rove has yet to deliver a doozy; perhaps by now we'll all be bored of viewing clips of the Kerry/Hilton/al-Zarqawi sex tape. Threesomes are always entertaining, but when the history of our country is at stake the eroticism gets kind of overshadowed -- anal or no anal.

 

 

Friday

Seventy-five years ago today the Stock Market crashed on what has since been forever known as Black Tuesday, the generally recognized beginning of The Great Depression. Don't let the fact that this major anniversary falls on a Friday ruin it for you. Black Tuesday followed Black Monday, which itself was preceded the week before by Black Thursday. What colors the days in between were we will never know. (Magenta Saturday, perhaps.) Still, the Stock Market collapse of 1929 affected millions of people's lives, both rich and poor, like no other economic disaster has in the history of the country.

Yes, some people would say that the economy these days is struggling, too, but those people are unpatriotic liberal activist judge-type doomsayers

 
 

who don't believe in our nation's workforce. Sure, there are millions of Americans living at or below the poverty line, but there are quite a few other Americans with millions and millions of dollars. Why harp on all the bad, when there is a lot of good out there? Let future historians feel sorry for all those inconsequential poor people. Instead we should champion the rich for they know how to keep hold of their money (Enron, WorldCom and Qwest execs excluded, of course), and they're the prime example of how America is back on track and growing!

And while we're on the subject of growing, it wouldn't be fair to me if I didn't mention that today is also my birthday. Thirty-five years ago I came screaming out into what was at the time a blog-less world. (How did people live?) Little did I know that one day I'd grow up to be a stay-at-home-dad in a bear suit with an addiction to violent video games and a troublesome obsession with Star Jones. Go figure!

I realize it may come as a shock to you that somebody pushing 40 is writing for The Black Table. Please don't let this confuse your young little agile brains; instead let me be an example of how to extend the spirit of your emotionally stunted 20s far into your middle age. You're welcome!

 

Christopher Monks blogs in a charming, middle-aged way at UtterWonder.com.

***

INCOMING! runs every Monday on The Black Table.