Mark Sanford: Sometimes You Want to Get Caught

South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford's six-day disappearance to visit his mistress in South America is quite interesting. The Governor had told everyone, even his lovely wife, that he was hiking in the Appalachians, but instead flew to Argentina to be with his girlfriend.

As a governor, Sanford has to possesses at least some intelligence and some common sense. The fact that he thought he could go MIA for nearly week and emerge from the other side unscathed is as far-fetched as the lies he told upon his return.

Therefore Sanford either became really stupid really fast, his mistress is that hot, or Sanford wanted to get caught.

Being a Governor during this economy cannot be fun, you're cutting budgets and laying people off. Also, his marriage was by all indications over. He was probably frustrated, stressed, and unhappy with his current life-situation.

It's not far fetched to believe that on some level he was trying to sabotage his own life or at least his job--the part of his life that was keeping him away from his mistress.

Sanford had the resources and the moxie to see his mistress without creating a national scene. The fact that he didn't may indicate he's desiring, on some level, a drastic change to his life.

Not to promote extra-martial affairs, but most people have lives where they can change lovers without hurting themselves politically.

When you're young, Sanford stupid actions may invoke scorn and ridicule. When you're old, they invoke pity.

Today It's "Kids," Tomorrow It's Whipper-snappers

The term "Kids" usually connotes people young enough to be in young and still play on jungle gyms.

Regardless of age, if you call the aforementioned group of individuals kids, you're okay.

However, you know you're old when you call people who are old enough to drive kids. You know you're really old when you call people old enough to drink kids.

The other day, through the window of my apartment, I saw a group of people walking old enough to drink. As they were goofing off, I called them kids.

These are individuals old enough to buy me a drink and I'm referring to them as kids.

I had no other recourse but to bury my head in my hand and wish for death.

Go Tyrants!

I'm actually rooting for Iran's Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Before you hyperventilate with outrage, I don't condone or tolerate the loss of life resulting from the demonstrations concerning his re-election. That is a tragedy and it needs to stop.

However, I just can't help to root for tyrants, despots and dictators.

As much as we love democracy and our Bill of Rights, I'm still holding onto hope that I will someone become a tyrant of my own oppressive regime.

After all, those types of governments know how to get things done. Unfortunately, the tyrannical governments have been historically evil while democracy have been notoriously lethargic.

As dictator of my oppressive regime, I would not trample on human rights. I would not "eliminate" my opposition. There would be no "death squads." There would be no reign of terror. Nor would I have a very large harem of concubines.

Instead, I would rule with a kind hand. Yet that hand would also be firm and swift when it came to evil and its sundry of devices.

As a benevolent tyrant, I would stamp out the ills that plague our society, like crime, child abuse, corruption, traffic, NBC, bicycles, Jon & Kate, and identity theft.

So since I hope to be a despot in the future, I feel it's only logically to root for tyrants of the present. One of these times, one of these tyrants will be finally turn out to be the right kind of ruthless.

Did You Say You Wanted A Beer?

The other day I placed an order at Starbucks. After I finished, the clerk grabbed a empty cup from the tall stack and paused for a beat. She then looked up at me and asked, “Did you say you wanted a beer?”

She didn’t whisper when she asked me to clarify, in fact she was rather loud.

I was taken aback. Not only had I not asked for anything remotely close to a beer, I hadn’t even utter a word since placing my order.

I immediately informed the boisterous clerk that I had not ordered a beer.

She burst into laughter attracting the attention of everyone in the store. A nearby clerk, who overheard her loud exclamation of “you wanted a beer,” made some obvious remark as he was re-stocking the lids.

I said nary a word as I thrust my gift cars (both of which added up to $2.38) into her chubby hands. She was going on and on, questioning whether or not Starbucks had started to sell beer.

I’m old and I didn’t appreciate her causing a scene. I can understand if I had said, “may I have a queer” or “can I get a pap smear, “or dear, ear, fear, lear” but I didn’t say anything remotely close to “give me a beer.”

In fact I didn’t say anything!

Her immaturity and youthfulness caused her to blurt out a rather embarrassing remark. Someone with more wisdom and experience would have treated my request (which I never made) with more sensitivity.

Worst of all, during this particular visit and on this particular day, I look exactly like someone stupid enough to order a beer at Starbucks and someone in desperate need of one.