Back in my Delta days, those halcyon times before children zapped my energy and cash flow, hopping a plane to ski Utah was a favorite pastime. There was this little Mexican joint in SLC, on the way back from the slopes where we’d stop and eat. It was there that I had my first dose of over-the-top, honest to goodness kitsch. The restaurant was festooned with numerous busts and statues, all of Elvis and all draped in a variety of Mardi-Gras beads and other equally charming adornments. Jeremaykova notes the halo glow that swathes Obama is quickly turning into his own brand of kitsch. Hey, think that restaurant out in Salt Lake might update their collection?
New manifesto. Say it again, this time with feeling!
I’m sure I can find some ballots in my car. Or my garage. Or maybe under my bed. All sorts of amazing things magically reappear after months and months of mystery.
Palin drew big crowds in Georgia yesterday, when she was here to support Saxby Chambliss. And why not? Aren’t we just as bitter, and gun-totin’, and clinging to our religion as our long-lost cousins up in PA?
You are who you hang with. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words, no?
Hand that man a perfumed hankie, so he can pretend to be the effete French noblesse he thinks he’s channeling.
Never fear, dear reader. Even in the midst of all the treacle, you can still find a real touch of class. SoS Condelezza Rice performs for The Queen.
A palace spokeswoman told AFP that Rice “expressed a wish to play at Buckingham Palace and the queen offered her to play in the music room.”
The lady knows how to go out in style.