What if my friend’s ex-girlfriend is only available because she was so overwhelmed by lusty thoughts of moi that she had no choice but to dump my friend’s loveable but pathetic ass?

I’m just saying, what if?

Believe.

Ahem. Here are actual results of my Pulp Fiction quiz:

Your name alone strikes fear into others; but maybe, just maybe, there’s a little vulnerability and weakness beneath that stoic, fierce exterior of yours. Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.

Mr. Smallholder would be well-advised to keep that in mind. We’ve shared some times, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to let him off easy.

Believe.

UPDATE FROM YOUR MAXIMUM LEADER: These results must be rigged. How does your Maximum Leader know? Look at these results and put two and two together. See? Your Maximum Leader thought you would.

A friend’s old girlfriend is now available. You are attracted to the young lady. Ought you to ask her out?

The Minister of Propaganda and I have dated the same girls without any drama. The Maximum Leader once caused me a wee bit of pain by courting an ex. So there cannot be a simple answer.

The complex answer to this question - a question that, in its import, dwarfs the question of how to put the North Korean nuclear genie back in the bottle - depends on several variables.

To wit:

The first major consideration is how your friend’s relationship ended. If the relationship ended due to misdeeds, one ought to steer clear. If your friend, for instance, cheated on the lass (and why, pray tell, are you friends with a cheater?), than she is bound to have hard feelings. Since you both know the friend in common, your discussion will inevitably turn to that friend and she is likely to express uncomplimentary feelings. This puts you in a hard spot - you can either sympathize with your squeeze or be loyal and charitable to your friend. If the lass cheated on your friend, your friend’s feelings are probably raw and your new relationship will be salt in the wound. Besides, why do you want to go out with a cheater? (Cue the Maximum Leader’s mincing-stepped mockery of Smallholder saying “but this is different! She’ll be loyal to me!” Shut up, Mike. I was 19 for God’s sake!)

If, on the other hand, the relationship ended on good terms - perhaps your friend took a job in another city and they didn’t want to do the long distance thing - you may approach the dating issue with trepidation.

The second major consideration is how serious the relationship was. The potential datability of the young lady is inversely proportional to how deeply your friend cared for her. If the two were married, the answer is, and always must be: Hell no, you may not date her. If the two were engaged, the answer will be the same. If the two dated briefly but never really clicked, you are golden. If the dating was a casual thing among friends, you’re in.

A girl we’ll call Laura really liked the Minister of Propaganda but distance prevented a serious relationship from developing. But she was always excited to see Rob when he was in town. She also enjoyed my company. So when I was in town we’d go out. We all knew this and were fine with it. In fact, another male friend was also in the batting rotation. This was all possible because we were casual rather han serious and there were no hurt feelings on the part of any of the parties. See HERE for more on Laura, or just to have a chuckle at Smallholder’s youthful stupidity.

The third issue, which may or may not be closely aligned with the seriousness of the relationship, is whether your friend harbors any lingering feelings for the girl. If he does, than you ought to steer clear. Even if you think his harboring of feelings is silly. Really. Nothing good can come from ignoring a friend’s feelings.

When I arrived at college, I was fresh from breaking up with the “love of my life.” Love in high school, as my AP European history teacher once explained to a brokenhearted Smallholder, is hell because you have all the emotions to feel love but none of the experience to put it into perspective and none of the maturity to temper the hormones. Going to a meeting of the Baptist Student Union, I met a wonderful young lady. I asked her out within half an hour of talking to her. She agreed, largely because she too was reeling from a breakup (though I like to think my charm and roguish good looks had something to do with it).

We only went out a couple of times. She was a great conversationalist and we had a good time. But I realized that she was still holding the candle for the last boyfriend, who was still in the picture, being a Hamster at Hampden-Sydney just down the road. Rather than risk the pain of really falling for her, I broke it off.

Although we only went out a few times, she was very influential in the humble Smallholder’s road to emotional maturity. She helped me realize that I could start to feel emotional attachment again - something desperately needed since I had responded to the horrible break-up by going out with girls not because I particularly like them but because it was important to have a cute girl on your arm at high school social events, treating dates like accessories rather than people. I’m embarrassed just thinking about it. At any rate, the Baptist girl really helped me get over the emotional hurdle. I still had wistful feelings for her. I’d wonder what would have happened if the other fellow hadn’t still been in the picture.

In fact, I’d often make up excuses just to be with her. Anytime I needed to get around town, I’d call and see if she would give me a ride. I just wanted to spend time talking with her. When she called me out for “using me for my car,” I stupidly did not explain that I still liked her as a friend and was too emotionally stunted to come out and ask to be friends. So I stopped calling. I left the relationship wistful and regretful of my own interpersonal incompetence. She left thinking I was a jerk who had only hung out for a car ride.

Years later, the Maximum Leader briefly courted Baptist girl. Although I did not have any rational basis for annoyance, this bothered me on two levels. First of all, the wistfulness translated into a bit of jealousy, an emotion I’m not used to feeling. Secondly, I was a bit concerned about what she would say about me. (Not that I needed to have worried - she evidently had practically forgotten the blip that was Smallholder - her importance in my life story was not matched by my importance in hers.)

The Maximum Leader and I have a strong friendship and it would have weathered a Mike-Baptist girl relationship had it developed. But I would have felt awkward. So the moral of the story is, don’t put your friend in an awkward position by discounting his lingering feelings. In Mike’s defense, I’m sure he was entirely unaware of my lingering feelings for Baptist girl. College boys don’t often sit around and talk of what might have been with their old girlfriends. He may have been unaware that we had ever dated at all. So this example is for illustrative purposes only - throw no bricks at your supreme generalissamo.

The “hands off!” rule is not absolute. Traversing the same terrain as your friend is fraught with danger, but if the relationship ended well, the relationship was not serious, and your friend has no lingering feelings,you only have one further obstacle in your quest.

Ask your friend. Not because you need permission. Because it is a nice thing to do.

Check out the other members of the Men’s Club: Puffy, the Wizard, and Phin. Or if you would like the ladies’ take on this subject, check out the Divas: Sadie, Kathy, Chrissy, and Silk. Also stop in and visit guest Diva Kelley.

Did anyone else misread the title of the Maximum Leader’s last post and think you were about to read an article about how he spent Satudray night at the YMCA?

Maybe it was just me.

My father sent me this story via e-mail:

cowboy was herding his herd in a remote pasture when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced out of a dust cloud towards him.

The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the cowboy, “If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?”

The cowboy looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, “Sure. Why not?”

The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his AT&T cell phone and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite navigation system to
get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo.

The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany . Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored.

He then accesses a MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with hundreds of complex formulas. He uploads all of this data via an email on his Blackberry, and after a few
minutes, receives a response.

Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LserJet printer and finally turns to the cowboy and says, “You have exactly 1586 cows and calves.”

“That’s right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves,” says the cowboy. He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.

Then the cowboy says to the young man, “Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?”

The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, “Okay, why not?”

“You’re a consultant.” says the cowboy. “Wow! That’s correct,” says the yuppie, “but how did you guess that?”

“No guessing required,” answered the cowboy. “You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew; to a question I never asked; and you don’t know anything about my business.”

“Now give me back my DOG.”

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader is amazed at how prolix we’ve been here in the past day.

Well, honestly, it has mostly been Smallholder. Your Maximum Leader just put down some thoughts on immigration and a quiz result.

By the way… Thanks Brian for concurring. Immigration is such a serious issue. And everyone who should be talking about it is talking around it. As he mentioned, your Maximum Leader was going to talk around the problem. It took him a few weeks to really figure out what the root cause of the problem was. We as a republic deserve a debate on what the future of our immigration policy should be. But, as mentioned earlier. Your Maximum Leader doubts we’ll get one.

Your Maximum Leader decided to put down a few random thoughts before the speed of this medium passed him by. (Although topicality and timeliness have never stopped him from commenting on any subject before.)

At long last, your Maximum Leader updated his sidebar and added the other members of the Mens Club (Phin, the Wizard, and Puffy) and Demystifying Divas (Silk was added to a list that already included Kathy and Christina as well as the blog-crush of all the bloggers here, Sadie) to the Legion of Villainy. He will make apologies to his fellow Club and Diva bloggers for not using the nifty icons and grouping. But, allow him to freely admit that the icons don’t appeal to his aesthetic tastes. Your Maximum Leader is something of an aesthetic snob in that respect. Your forebearance in this matter is greatly appreciated.

Although Mark at WitNit’s very thoughtful essay has been linked and lauded by many others, it deserves more linkage and thoughtful consideration by more readers. Your Maximum Leader is quite pleased to have this site listed among Mark’s Daily Wits. Many thanks.

Speaking of thoughtful writing deserving of high praise. Do you minions out there read Outer Life? Your Maximum Leader feels somewhat guilty bringing attention to the site. He feels as though directing traffic to Outer Life will somehow sap the energy out of the site and cause it to wither and die. Outer Life is like a secret that he doesn’t want to share, yet he’s aware that everyone is in on. (And everyone knows that three can keep a secret provided two are dead.) Your Maximum Leader thinks that Outer Life is the best written blog out in the ether of the internet. Just read it and you will see why.

Oh… If you have written your Maximum Leader recently and not received a response, he’s not forsaken you. Maximum Leaderly things have limited his e-mail/blogging time over the past few days. He’ll respond. Really he will.

Of course, one of the “Maximum Leaderly” things that has prevented him from typing e-mails or blog posts has been spending some serious time with the Wee Villain. Hard to believe he’ll be a year old soon. Crazy how time flies.

But your Maximum Leader has been spending some time holding the Wee Villain while he sleeps and watching the NCAA Womens Fast Pitch Softball World Series playoffs. At first he tuned in for the college chics. But now he is completely engrossed with the game.

Allow him to describe the evolution of his viewing:

Stage 1) “Hey! Look! Athletic college chics playing softball. You know softball is close to baseball. Your Maximum Leader likes baseball…”
Stage 2) “Wow! Baseball played by chics.” Your Maximum Leader summoned a dwarf to bring him a ber.
Stage 3) “Hey now! Some of these chics are hot. Really hot. And you know what else, they can be their own cheerleaders. Hummm… Softball playing cheerleaders…”
Stage 4) “Humm… How does the batter get a read on the pitch when the angle of the pitcher’s release is such that her grip can’t be clearly seen?”
Stage 5) “The mound is only what 45 or so feet from home plate? And the big green ball is delivered at 80 mph?”
Stage 6) “Is that ball green or “optic yellow?”
Stage 7) “Damn. That ball is going 80, sometimes 90, miles per hour. And the batter can’t see the pitchers hand before the release. No wonder they seem to chase more balls than in baseball.”
Stage “You know, these women play this game so well. They always hussle to first. They calmly return to the dugout when they strike out. No whining or complaining.”
Stage 9) “Damn. All these women can lay down a bunt. They know how to advance the baserunners.”
Stage 10) “It is amazing to see these women’s motion while batting. They really seem to plant their feet and don’t seem to move as much as baseball players.”
Stage 11) “A ha! They have a swing that is better suited towards putting the ball in play than making a home run.”
Stage 12) “This is really exciting. This is really awesome. What is your Maximum Leader doing tomorrow night. Because what ever it is he’s cancelling it to watch Game 2.”

Although he doesn’t have a dog in the fight, your Maximum Leader is rooting for UCLA to win the Women’s World Series. (Against Michigan.) They aren’t favoured. (Although they’ve won a number of times in the past few years.) Their team seems to work more like a team and they play with more finesse. The Bruins seem to always have their mind in the moment. Frankly, all these women seem to have their mind in the moment of the game to a degree you don’t often see with many men players. Male professionals at any rate.

Regardless of the Bruins or Wolverines winning, your Maximum Leader will have learned a lot and greatly appreciated the time he spent watching the contest.

And before your Maximum Leader goes… Allow him to just point out this one post from the lovely, and infrequently posting, Anna. It makes your Maximum Leader laugh and feel awkward all at the same time. Anna still has that ole witchcraft…

Carry on.

Someone explain this to me.

Your humble Smallholder toils away at his Maximum Leader’s blog month after month.

Does he get any public recognition? Nooooooo.

But let some Johnny-come-lately Lothario start posting his rules on disclosure and suddenly we are getting mail about the female viewing public’s new “blog crushes.”

Why haven’t the ladies had the same type of visceral reaction to Smallholder?

Since he’s incommunicado in Mexico this week, the Minister of Propaganda phoned in his quiz results to me:

The Minister of Propaganda is:

You’re sweet, but not naive — though you like to be babied like a child at times. You prefer to have a bad boy by your side, but sometimes have problems understanding why he has to run off to take care of business. You want to settle down, yet deep down inside, you are excited by the surprises life throws your way. Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.

Pulp Fiction Quiz (For the Maximum Leader and the Lovely Sadie)

Smallholder is:

Tired of being underappreciated and manipulated by powerful “others,” you fight back. Though possesssing a cold, violent outside, you have a soft, scentimental inside. You love your partner, you cherish family heirlooms, and you want nothing more than to be geniunely happy — but you don’t mind having to kill a couple of nimrods who happen to clutter your path. Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader has been working, off and on, for a matter of weeks on a long post about the Minutemen movement, Immigration, and our nation’s borders. He had lots of links, pithy observations, and nearly 3000 word written when he turned off his PC friday morning.

Then he turned on the PC yesterday morning and deleted the whole post.

Yup. The whole post. And it wasn’t a particularly poorly written or reasoned post either. It certainly was better than many posts he’s written in this space and posted without thinking to hard or long about it.

You see, your Maximum Leader had a little moment this morning. He woke up fully intending to finish that post, edit it a little, and publish it. But upon reading it he realized that all of his blather about the whole Minutemen movement, Presidential Guest Worker plans, Congressional inaction, and the need to evaluate differing methods of securing our border was missing the big point.

The big point is that we as a nation haven’t made securing the border a priority. Until the border is secured, or a positive decision to not secure the border is made, discussion of “how to solve the problem of illegal immigration” is as pointless as it is impossible.

That was the point your Maximum Leader had been talking around in his now deleted post.

Your Maximum Leader is all for a serious discussion of what should be done. But he doesn’t expect Congress to take any steps to have a discussion. And the President’s plan for a “Guest Worker” Program should be killed in Congress. Not because the plan is without merit. (Your Maximum Leader believes it has plenty going for it. Although it is far from perfect.) But rather because the plan is unworkable with a porous border. Going after businesses that hire undocumented workers (i.e.: illegal aliens) is all fine and good, but it really doesn’t do anything until the flow of illegals is cut off.

Your Maximum Leader has had some private discussions with friends about immigration. He is a big believer in legal immigration. Indeed, he believes that our current legal immigrant quota is low and should be raised. But what our quota is or isn’t is a pointless discussion to have because we can’t enforce a quota because anyone from any nation can go to Mexico or Canada and cross over our border at just about any point.

Your Maximum Leader is amused by all the Washington Punditry talking about how no one is talking about immigration. It is one huge non-issue. But one that has such wide reaching issues surrounding it. Immigration policy, particularly the problem of illegals coming from Mexico (and Canada), is one that effects our security, our economy, health care, agriculture, social services, and future elections. It is too important an issue to leave unaddressed.

But unaddressed it is. All Americans should be outraged by the lack of attention being paid to this issue by our elected representatives (all of them in our two elected branches of government). We need to have a serious discussion of what our policy will be. If the outcome of the debate is just to do nothing, your Maximum Leader will be put out. But he can live with that outcome. If the outcome is to close the border to illegal immigration, but increase immigration quotas (and maybe institute a guest worker program) your Maximum Leader would be pleased as punch. If the outcome is to close the borders completely to legal and illegal immigration your Maximum Leader would think the decision is shortsighted and contrary to our national ethos. But he could live with that outcome.

We need debate. But probably will not get any.

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader was surfing and he saw this quiz. He bookmarked the quiz, but has now forgotten from which site he found the quiz. Anyhow… In honor of our much beloved Sade, your Maximum Leader presents his Which Pulp Fiction Character are you quiz results.

You are the king of smooth — enough said. Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.

Just as he expected.

Carry on.

Ally, my dear, I’m not piling on. I’m just digging my way to China right beside you.

Quotes from Ally’s musings will appear in bold - I will hit a few points that don’t follow her paragraph arrangement exactly. The reshufling is not intended to misrepresent any of Ally’s points, but rather to try to make my responses follow some kind of coherent thread (there is a first time for everything). If you distrust Smallholder’s intentions, you can read her article the way she wrote it at the link above. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Ally writes:

Smallholder, whose logic and wit I enjoy immensely, has posted in response to an e-mail/posting of mine. You can read his response here. My original damning post can be read here. The next good couple of feet of my hole was dug here. Can I just keep my mouth shut and not respond? Oh, dear readers - that I could. However, my intrinsic make-up is not one that can stay quiet.

And that’s why your readers love you. Don’t go changin’ to try to please me!

First, let me show my bias: Keith Burgess-Jackson is who got me started blogging. Without his input and talent, I would never have found my passion of writing. It was long lost, and would have stayed that way, I’m sure, due to my incredible insecurity over my literary skills. In addition, he was kind enough to help me get started, and plugged me at every opportunity. In a world that was young at the time, giving a fellow blogger a plug was no big deal. Now, in the much harsher, near-regulated world of blogging, any comment by a blogger of note is hard-won. Keith has been graciousness itself. As anyone will tell you, I am intensely loyal. Keith is still one of my favorite bloggers, and I admire his tenacity and discipline.

I applaud you for your loyalty to friends (in this case KBJ). This is an admirable trait - one I hope my friends would agree that I share.

In the situation of the gays marrying and adopting….I can’t honestly make that kind of judgment. I have found Keith’s logic on the situation interesting, though not convincing.

Being charitable towards others is another positive personal attribute, and I can only say that you are exhibiting charity when you continue to describe KBJ’s position on gays as logical after conceding several points from my extensive indictment:

Okay, onto digging my own grave: Smallholder has several excellent points. (One of my favorite things about this blogging cowboy is his logic and talent at expressing it.)

I would humbly posit, however, that sometimes we ought to challenge our friends when they do wrong: “My friend, it saddens me when you do X. You are better than that.” Much of the wonderful progress in this country hasn’t been made by the flashy figures in the history books. It has been made by good people who turn to their friends and say: “How can you continue to support Jim Crow when the racists are trning dogs on children?” or “I love you honey, and I hope you can start putting down the bottle and become the man and father I know you can be” or “You know Jim, telling those jokes in the breakroom probably makes some of our female coworkers uncomfortable - perhaps we ought to consider their feelings.” You can’t always change a bigot, but subtle social pressure from friends is probably more effective than government regulation or condemnation from strangers.

Returning to the topic of the Vulcanness of Smallholder:

To his credit/downfall, Smallholder relies on data and research to uphold his beliefs. In many ways, he is the wiser of any of us for doing so. I tend to rely on my inner logic and experience in life to determine my beliefs. In my jaded view, data is easily tweaked to say what we want it to say, so I tend to be resistant to such things. I rely on observation and some data to determine my thoughts and opinions.

On the issue of tweaked data, I agree that it exists. But that doesn’t mean that we ought to throw up our hands and proclaim that no data is valid. People of good conscience will take the time and examine the how the data is compiled and look for the proverbial “finger on the scale.” Some data sets are better than others. Some organizations purposefully put out phoney statistics to flood the marketplace of ideas and make it impossible for the casual citizen to discriminate between real data and junk. Think of all the medical studies commissioned by Philip Morris. Think of a majority of the statistics put out by both sides of the gun debate. (The best numbers I have seen about the relative safety of gun ownership are in “Freakonomics” by Steven Levitt. Controlling for a wealth of variables, he concludes that having a gun in the house is not particularly dangerous, especially compared with other controllable factors like pool ownership. This is not to say that I have used Levitt’s book as a justification for leaving loading firearms in my daughter’s toybox) If we are going to make good public policy or even good choices in our personal life, we have to have access to good data.

For instance, little Johnny is contemplating smoking because it will increase his coolness quotient. Mon and Dad warn him of the health dangers. They point out all the medical literature about life expectancy, lung disease, and premature aging. Johnny replies: “Well, Jenny’s great-grandmother has been smoking for 80 years and she’s still alive.” Johnny’s data set doesn’t make evidence a wash, eliminating evidence from consideration and freeing him to use his own “inner logic” which is largely driven by his adolescent desire to look cool at parties. Anecdotal “observation” is much more subject to pre-existing bias and is much harder to refute if we refuse to distinguish between data sets of differing values.

If the personal example doesn’t float your boat, consider a public policy issue. Gender equality is a laudable goal (though we may differ on what “equality” means in practice). If we are to achieve our variously defined goal of equality, we actually have to understand how the inequality is addressed. One classic, well-”known” example of gender equality is the “wage gap.” This is based on the average salary paid to all men and women in the workforce. The wage gap varies based on who is pushing the numbers, but generally we are told that women earn around 75 cents on the dollar. Those of us who believe you should receive equal pay for equal work are appalled! Sexism is rampant! Man the barricades.

But, uh, that is NOT what the wage gap measures. It measures the average pay of all people in the workforce and does NOT provide a job by job comparison. If one controls for time in the workforce (women often take time off from their careers to care for their children), occupation (women are more likely to pursue careers in the “helping” fields which traditionally pay less), and number of work hours (women as a group average shorter work weeks), the wage gap vitrually disappears. But try saying that in public -you will be excoriated. My wife tans my hide whenever the subject comes up. Early on in her career, she did actually work for a paper that openly paid men more than women. But individual, anecdotal evidence does not matter more than real statistics. There are sexist employers. But pretending that the sexist morons are the norm rather than the anecdotal exception means that we can’t target the real problem. But perhaps NOW is more interested in receiving membership dues than addressing real instances of workplace discrimination.

The same might be said for the NAACP’s claims that the disproportional representation of African-Americans in the justice system shows systemic racism within the judicial system. I’ll not quibble with the statement that there are racist cops, lawyers, judges, and jurors out there. But if we are to address the real problem of black-on-black crime, we need to look at single parenthood, attitudes about education, improving inner-city schools, and a dysfunctional youth subculture that glorifies thuggery. All hard and tough issues that need to be and ought to be tackled. And we’re not tackling them if we just blame the judicial system and the mythic “man.”

Admit it Ally: You know that the world would be a better place if we were all amenable to statistical persuasion and were able to analyze data in order to separate the wheat from the chaff. Of course, you don’t believe that, having written:

I think there is room in this world for those who are bigots, vs. those who are open to change. I would rather have someone like Keith, from whom I can always know what to expect (let’s not forget that his conservatism has been a hard-won journey), AND some like Smallholder, from whom I get discussion and debate, than lose either one of those personalities. I guarantee, the founding of this country was based more on those who lived by the conviction of their beliefs, without being persuaded otherwise, than those who were open to changing their minds. So I’ll take both, and learn from both.

I would argue that our great founding fathers were both great and successful at founding our nation because they believed in enlightened reason. They did shift positions as new data appeared - the most famous being Benjamin Franklin’s public shift in a British courtroom. Washington’s shift began as he tried to pull Braddock’s demolished force out the woods in the face of haughty British officers resentful of taking directions from a yokel. Look at the Constitutional Convention - it was a place where men argued, changed positions, and compromised for the greater good - in some cases even compromising essential principles for the sake of the country (particularly on the issue of slavery).

Maybe that last paragraph will sway you away from steadfastness in your belief.

Ally also wants to throw another iron into the fire:

On another end, I’m not letting Smallholder out of this one. You thought I missed it, dear friend, but you failed to comment on whether or not women who are surrogates is a concerning practice, or one which we should embrace. Hit me with your logic.

I’ll not wiggle on the surrogacy issue; I just saw it as subsidiary to the bone of contention. I have not thought much about the surrogacy issue. My thumbnail reaction is that it is a shame that folks who can’t have children naturally but want them anyway would serve society better by adopting unwanted children. However, it is hard for me to condemn people who want to make sure they have healthy children who have proper prenatal care, nutrition, and mental stimulation from the very beginning - and potential adoptees generally lack one or all of those traits. But that’s just my knee-jerk reaction. I promise to contemplate the issue more deeply and will try to do a post next week.

Everything above is just my opinion. I might be wrong. I’m open to persuasion.

As the party wound down, several people independently stopped by our table to say that they enjoyed dancing with me and/or watching me dance.

As the Nakedvillains will attest, I enjoy myself on the dance floor.

This is not to say that I’m not the whitest, most “rhythmically challenged” man in the Western Hemisphere.

But my lack of self-conciousness seems to be contagious. Well, people think to themselves, I don’t normally dance, but look at that spastic goon! I’ll look like Fred Astaire next to him. Hey honey, want to dance?

I dance with the young. I dance with the old - one of my wife’s friends’ grandmother still talks about how she danced with that nice young man at Laura’s wedding. I now spend a lot of time dancing with my daughter on my shoulders. I’ll break it down - “Hammer”-style. I’ll shoulder pop, swing, mash potato, electric slide, macarena, and twist. Hell, I’ll funky chicken.

I can’t backspin anymore - my level of friction and inertia seems to have increased over the years. And I can’t do it as long anymore. When I was fifteen years younger and forty pounds lighter at Longwood I could dance for hours. Now I have to rest every once and a while.

It is good to serve a purpose. Mine is to “get this party started.”

I found out this weekend that my wife is a fourteenth generation Mulford. The Mulfords were original settlers of Long Island. One of her progenitors, whaler Samuel “Fishhooks” Mulford, played a role in the “no taxation without representation” campaign of the American colonies.

You can read about Emilie’s great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather here.

Here is a taste:

It wasn’t long before the government got involved in the all too profitable whaling industry. Robert Hunter, the Royal Governor of New York, passed a tax on half the oil and bone from all drift whales. Th King of England called the whale the “Royal fish” and asked officials to license all takers of the “bigfish”. There were no cries from the citizens of Kingston, Syracuse, Albany or Utica, but the people of Long Island and those of East Hampton became incensed at the tax. To surrender 50% of the catch after all the effort, labor and even the potential loss of life was unthinkable.

Samuel Mulford was a 70 year old member of the General Assembly of New York and an East Hamptonite who was not going to take this governmentabuse. He first took action against the governor, but when authorities led him through a legal maze of English law, the homespun whaler went over thegovernor’s head, way over his head. Samuel Mulford boarded a ship for London to take his case right to the top - King George I. In England, this country whaler was truly a fish out of water. His informal dress, new world language,and unsophisticated air gave him little chance with the aristocrats inLondon. Day after day Mulford worked his way through the crowded London streets, across the common to petition the government just to hear him. Each time he failed and each time his pockets were picked. No matter how careful he was the precious little money he had was quickly draining away. Mulford could not afford the losses any longer. He went back to his rented flat and sewed fishhooks into the lining of his pockets. The next day as he began his pilgrimage once more through London an unsuspecting “Oliver” attempted to separate Samuel from his money. But to the thief’s dismay he became firmly and painfully attached to the old man’s trousers. The authorities had their pickpocket and a rather amusing story. Word spread quickly among the London thieves about an old man with a gimpy walk whose pockets had nothing but fishhooks. Soon almost everyone in London seemed to resemble Samuel Mulford. Pickpockets took a holiday rather than mess with the man from the colonies. Mulford became an instant celebrity, the man who had single-handedly fooled the London thieves.

So quickly did his notoriety spread that he not only got to address the members of the House of Common, but he met with King George, himself. Within a year the whale tax was revoked. Governor Hunter was furious at Mulford for his impetus behavior. The governor had him expelled from theNew York Assembly, whereupon, East Hampton reelected him again the following year. Samuel Mulford died at the age of 80 in 1725. His tombstone reads “Honest Sam Mulford” but his legend reads Fishhooks Mulford. The East Hampton whaler had defended the principle of “No taxation without representation”almost 50 years before the revolution.

I can’t believe I have married into a family that can trace its lineage back to the colonial period.

We Smallholders can only trace ourselves back to the German ‘48ers.

I’ll have to start wearing a tie to family dinners.

Weddings aren’t just about tax benefits and health insurance.

They are family celebrations of the lives of the bride and groom.

They are family celebrations of the continuity of the little idiosycrancracies we all have. The bride’s family requested “Sweet Caroline” three times. When the young people left to go wherever it is that young people go, the grandparents’ generation started Irish dancing. And let me tell you, some of those septuagenarian Irish grandmothers are surprisingly spry.

They are family celebrations of the new lives the bride and groom will build together.

They are family expressions of love - not just for the bride and groom but of everybody.

They are family reunions.

They are families getting to know the youngest generation. My sweet Emilie was the belle of the dance floor, getting down with her two-year-old self.

They are families getting “betrunkt mit.”

And yet…

Some folks out there, and they know who they are, in the service of a morally indefensible bigotry, in the attempt to push their religious beliefs on others, would like to tell some families that they are not allowed to have weddings.

I realized during the festivities that Jerry Falwell and his ilk aren’t just hurting gays. They are harming all of us.

I pray and hope that my children are straight. Not because I believe that homosexuality is a sin. Because I wouldn’t wish the personal, vicious hatred of the bigots on anyone, let alone my own children.

My children are so wee that we have no idea how they will turn out. No parent does. Every single bigot should stop and think: Would I have the things I advocate applied to my children?

I’m feeling a bit of rage. How dare some Bible-thumping-Bible-misinterpreting sack of crap tell me that I can’t walk my daughter down the aisle if there is another young woman waiting for her.

Any person who would deny their own children and their own families the joyous celebration that is marriage - and anyone who would deny it to other children and families risks denying it to their own kin - is someone who I condemn.

A person who would let parental love take a back seat to hateful ideology is someone deserving of scorn and condemnation.

I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around the fact that Strom Thurmond, as he stood on the Senate Floor filibustering against the Civil Rights Act, KNEW that he was leading the crusade to discriminate against his own illegitimate daughter. Anti-homosexual advocates don’t know that on the same level. But if they were the least little bit reflective, they would realize that they were risking discrimination against their own children.

I’ve argued philosophically, legally, and sociologically against legislating discrimination. I’ve tried to do it in a reasoned voice and with a persuasive tone. Until now, raw anger has not been a part of my public voice.

It is today.

So, as a father who loves his kids, I say this:

Screw you, Rick Santorum.

And your little dog Toto too.