Whither New Orleans? — Update ‘07

New Orleans needs help.

There’s a small Starbucks in Canal Place, a tony shopping mall at the edge of the French Quarter. Last year during April’s JazzFest, the first after Katrina hit, the coffee shop had not reopened. Now it has.

Over the counter, hovering above a sizeable early morning line of turista in need of caffeine, is a sign that reads: “Now Hiring!!! Baristas. Flexible Hours. AM & PM. 401K. Stock Options. Health Insurance. Tuition Reimburse.”

Every Vote For President Counts The Same — Bring It On!

I guess we can trace this new movement — the first seed of which has been planted in Maryland — on that darned cigar.

Have They No Sense Of Decency?

It is true that I am preternaturally inclined to be a liberal, almost defiantly a Democrat.

2, 4, 6, 8 — Let’s Eviscerate!

The Mama Shrew of American punditry is back at it. Long, lean, looker Ann Coulter never met a slur she wouldn’t clutch to her breasts for flashing in her next public pontification. It’s presidential election time so the willowy, blonde, right wing hatemonger will be more than out and about. Unless, of course, she stews in her own bile. We can only wish.

Hubris in D.C. & The Triangle

It’s not an especially valiant character trait to be proud that one totally forgot Dub’s state of the union address was last night. But I’ll own it nonetheless.

When my sweetie and I got home from the movies — a trenchant view of former Ugandan dictator Idi Amin — I did what I usually do. Turned on a ballgame.

“Guess what dear? We missed the president’s speech.” We both smiled and thought nothing of it.

Bad Lawyers & Too Many Candidates

The Courier-Journal’s resident barracuda Andy Wolfson took aim again recently at the criminals who are disguised as the former lawyers in the infamous Fen-phen case.

You go, dude. These cretins deserve all the bad pub. And more. Much more.

Yellow Dog Dems With Big Blue Dreams

The guy with the beard and the western Kentucky accent wore his Sunday best blazer.

The lapel button read “I’m a Yellow Dog Democrat.”

Asked the derivation of the term, he replied, “My daddy told me long ago. Our family would vote for a yellow dog if he’s a Democrat.”

Are We Really Better Off Now?

I turned on O’Reilly last Thursday night just to see that pundit’s take on the important news of the day.

Mr. Billy was vacationing. His replacement was doing his best to adopt the star’s condescending tone. Not an easy task. The guy couldn’t pull it off. The temp sounded almost objective.

Whither This Damnable Weather?

This is the poesy of our discontent.

Standing by their Men

In the Race for No. 1, the No. 2’s may be More Interesting

Ruby Laffoon was born to a staunchly Democratic family in Madisonville, Ky. He was the state’s leader from 1931-35, years which saw deadly turmoil in the coal fields of eastern Kentucky, tumult which he generally ignored although beseeched for humane concessions by beleaguered miners.

His governorship did have its noteworthy moments.

Farmer v. A Farmer

At John Riley’s auto body shop at Bardstown Road and Grinstead drive, the wood-paneled walls are dingy from decades of cigarette smoke and paint fumes and lined with photos of granddaughters’ soccer squads, certificates in shoddy frames and faded newspaper clippings. Lining the back wall are several gray file cbinets that look like they haven’t been opened since the Model T era.

Three-Card Monte

In the race to be Kentucky’s next Attorney General, there’s a broker, a toker and a joke(r). Generally speaking, it’s a race we’d rather cancel. Here’s the sad but true tale.

Take a look at the trio vying to be Kentucky’s next attorney general and you’ve got to wonder: Is this the best Kentucky’s legal community has to offer? One can’t be blamed if they are reminded of Chester A. Riley in the old ’50s sitcom, “The Life of Riley.” When he and pal, Gillis, found themselves in yet another mess with their wives, Peg and Honeybee, Riley would rasp, “What a revoltin’ development this is!”

The motley crew aiming to be the state’s next chief prosecutor is like three blind mice. See how they run. Did you ever see such a thing in your life? But there’s no farmer’s wife with a carving knife to save the day.