Tony Blair on The Daily Show

Did you click on the title of this post? I sure hope so. Otherwise this entry will make no sense. It's a link to the second half of Tony Blair on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.

Some facts to be aware of:

1. I am a Liberal Democrat.


2. When hearing George W. Bush speak, I often become embarrassed to be American.


3. I throw all of my support behind Barack Obama.


4. I've had dreams about being... more than friends with Jon Stewart. 

But listening to Tony Blair--former Prime Minister of England--speak about his relationship with W. and his reasons for going to war in Iraq, I get concerned. And not for the reasons you may think.

I want to trust my president. I want to believe that he is the best qualified individual for the job. I want to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he will act with the best interests of the country in mind. And I want to feel like we, as the American people, are all in this together.

When Tony Blair speaks about the insanely controversial topics listed in this video... I feel that. I trust that he knows more than me about these subjects. I believe he's making well-informed decisions. I know he's not only thinking of himself, but of the good of his country. And I start to think about how quickly I can renounce my citizenship and try to retain a British Visa.

This is the oppressive regime we broke away from over 200 years ago? Is it too late to say we're sorry?

What makes me concerned when I watch this video is that the policies Tony Blair outlines here are entirely in line with the Bush doctrine--a doctrine that I've come to know as the Guidebook for How to Make a Once-Great Nation Fall into an Irrevocable State of Disrepair.

So why is it that I can listen to Tony Blair and a.) not cringe nor b.) vehemently disagree?

My fear is that something is very wrong with our country--and it's bigger than the letter W. 

What good is democracy if our elections aren't about issues but popularity? If our political leanings don't have anything to do with individual thought and everything to do with mob mentalities? And if the leader of the free world (and the guy he's hired to take care of the money) don't have to be accountable anyone? 

Democracy. Ha. More like traveshamockery.

Red Light Rendezvous

I ran my first red light yesterday.

Well, OK. Not my first. But this was the first time I ran a red light and a camera flashed in my face.

Twice.

I was on my way to the gym, and normally, I'm not speeding to get there. But at the particular intersection I bolted through, if you get stuck, it feels like an eternity before you get a green light again. You try doing nothing for 3 minutes. It's hard. So, it's not that I was in a hurry so much as I was fighting against boredom.

In any case, I ran the damn light and felt incredibly guilty immediately afterward.

I skulked into the gym--confessing to the man behind the counter what I'd just done.

"Hi there," he said.
"Hi," I answered, handing over my card to get scanned.
"How are you doing tonight?" he asked, clearly just looking for small talk.
I erupt.
"Not great, actually. I just ran a red light. And I'm sure they took my picture. And I'm about 10 days away from having the accident I got into two years ago removed from my record--only I've messed it all up because of that stupid intersection about 2 blocks down."
"Oh, bummer," he replies.
"It is a bummer," I say.
He hands my card back.
"Well, have a nice workout," he smiles, obviously not wanting to engage me further.

Can you blame him?

So I do my little hour on the treadmill. There are signs posted everywhere that say the maximum time on cardiovascular machines is 30 minutes. But no one was waiting. And since I'd already broken the actual law, I had little to no trouble rationalizing my increasingly devient behavior.

After I was through I exited through the back and began my sojourn to the car. When I opened the door to the parking lot I saw three cop cars and 8 cops outside my gym.

Oh. My. God. I thought to myself. They're here for me.

I caught eyes with a few of them and they smiled. They made no movement toward me and they weren't waiting by my vehicle. Strange.

Just wait, I continued. When they see you get in the Cadillac, they'll ask why you were in such a rush that you felt the need to endanger the lives of everyone else at the intersection.

But they didn't.

I got into my car. I turned over the engine. I drove out of the parking lot. And the cops didn't care. I don't even think they noticed me.

I was safe.

But was the rest of Solana Beach?

Doubtful.

Afterall, there are maniacs like me roaming the streets--and the entire city police force is apparently on a perpetual coffee break in a gym parking lot.