The Adventures of Marco Polo in Baton Rouge

Long time gone. Been to Carole King concert, Astros-Mets, out to eat, working, proving prime conjectures, and so on. Read The Optimist's Daughter and re-read Slaughterhouse Five. The Road Warrior has taken some license numbers, but is spending most of his time listening to his iPod while driving the unholy streets.

I have also been listening to both political parties, and the best I can tell Democrats hate George W. Bush about as much as Republicans hate Bill and Hillary Clinton. Why is this? I ask myself. This is not merely a difference in policy. This is full-blown, subconcious stuff. The guys on the radio need to listen to what they are saying, because it sounds to me like a good case against the other side, but a lot of overlooking the plank in their own eyes. I would give advice, like get over it. Get over it, Democrats, that W "stole" the 2000 election. You forget that without the big-eared buffoon in the 1992 race that Bill would not have been President. Did Bill get over 50 % of the vote? How quickly we forget. And while you still may believe he "stole" the election, it was played by the rules. That is a hell of a lot more than I can say for John Kennedy and Daly in the 1960 election, and John Kennedy is a saint now. Republicans, remember Viet Nam, and let's do this War on Terror right. We seem to lack Direction, Leadership, or is it just Communication? Talk to us, W, like we are Fellow Americans.

In the end, though, my advice means nothing. No one wants to build consensus, we just want to be right. But what does a Southern, white middle-aged male know? My ilk is the cause of all the problems ... Right?

Death is on my mind. It started this past weekend with my wife's cousin's death. That was bad enough. He was 70, and we expected him to die, but it was still hard. But if only that were the only one.

The community mourns the loss of several young people, including one by shark attack in Florida and three by drowning in the Mississippi River. And it only been a few weeks since we lost another LSU baseball player from the 2000 championship team. If you're from Baton Rouge, you are familiar with the stories. If not, you can read about them (www.2theadvocate.com or www.wafb.com), so I won't dwell on the details. I personally cannot imagine losing my son or daughter.  I am at a loss for words. These parents sent there children off, thinking they would return, and now they will never see them or hold them again.

To the families of Jamie Daigle, Cassandra, Johnte and Johneisha Parker, and Johnnie Thibodeaux, I send my heartfelt prayers.

First three lines of "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd"


It is funny the things you think about when faced with death and your own mortality. My thoughts always seem to go back to Walt Whitman's poem "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd". It is a poem of admiration to President Lincoln at his death, so it is appropriate. But it is poignant to me that I first heard a few lines of it in 1st grade, when Miss McClendon read them to the class. She told us that we would not understand it, but we would when we were older. We asked what lilacs were, which we do not have in southern Louisiana that I am aware of. She told us that they were kind of like wysteria. Now, wasn't that enlightening to a roomful of 6 year olds? She was right, though, I did learn later what the poem meant, and today I feel the same loss in my heart that Walt Whitman felt in 1865.