It's just not going to happen this Lent.

My schedule has changed, so there will be no Friday Afternoon Sermons this Lent.

Aw, shucks, you say?

Well, you can create your own. The topic for this week is the idiocy of "Baby on Board" placards. Remember those from the 80's. It seemed that every boomer parent had one. Then they got spoofed and went away.

Guess what? The boomer spawn have grown up and I am seeing them anew.

Speaking of boomer spawn, I was a bit shocked to read of a "Tyler" something or other who was in the Olympics. I always think of the "lers" as little kids (anglo boomers loved those ler names: Tyler, Skyler, Tayler, or Taylor, whatever, it's still pronounced ler). Now they are all growed up and have "Baby on Board" placards of their own. I wonder when they will discover cheesy jazz fusion and white zinfandel.

So, rant away for this Friday. Have fun.

Meanwhile, paid writing and unpaid cooking beckon. I like both.

By the way, iPods are amazingly cool inventions. You hit shuffle and it is like listening to the best free-form radio in the world. Scarlatti to Amalia Rodrigues to George Jones. You tell me where I can find programming like that on the radio.

And, I was asked about the NPR report on the Oakland murder rate. It is bad around some parts, mostly far to the south and far to the north of us (by a peculiarity of geography we call the northernmost part of town "West Oakland" and the southernmost part of town "East Oakland," which are both the bad parts of Oakland. Technically we live in East Oakland, but are not that far into it, so none of the really bad stuff happens in our neighborhood). In our area crime tends to be more along the lines of property crimes, domestic violence, and drug offences, and my guess (not based on any data collecting by the police or anything that scientific) is that the rates are pretty steady. When we moved into the area, they were dropping pretty fast. I think they have probably stabilized, but will continue to decline.

What is going on in the other parts of town, on the other hand, is pretty ugly. I have no theory as to the causes, because I avoid those areas (for the most part), and do not have any direct observations. Often I wonder how it is possible for any ghetto to remain, given the cost of housing.

We have a mayoral race going on, however, and the outcome will be bleak, no matter who wins. The best man for the job (Ignacio de la Fuente) is as appealing as a wet loaf of bread. The worst man for the job (Ron Dellums, a man with no executive experience, and little more pedigree than being a careerist, Leftist-Democratic yes man) makes old Ignatz look like bonafide leadership material.

A move to Berkeley in our future? We will see.

No Friday Afternoon Sermon

Friday has come and gone, and, obviously you did not get a Friday Afternoon Sermon. Pity. I was going to rant about something or other, but it can wait.

The reason I skipped it was that I spent too much time fiddling with software Thursday night (OK, I admit it, I was loading songs into the iPod). No time to write. Sorry. Also, I have been baiting reds, or atheists, or whatever sort of fellow traveller it is that I have been crossing swords with in the taurine world.

Maybe I will give you a mid-week sermon, but that misses the atmosphere that I am shooting for in having Friday Afternoon Sermons.

You see, the Friday Afternoon Sermon was how the blog began. It started as an email circular that was to take the place of my Friday Afternoon Martini during Lent. I was intrigued by the crossing fo the images of a bunch of Mohammedans listening to their imams and images of the Western Friday afternoon (whoo hooo, the weekend is here). I created a little setting for the Friday Afternoon Sermon: a hot, slightly muggy day, in a piazza. The hearers of the sermon are not really there all by choice, and the piazza is full of various police in a variety of levels of uniform. Those who mutter against the Leader get stern looks from one of the secret policemen, you know, the guy over at that other table, sipping his Campari and looking for all the world like somebody's uncle. You say, "I have heard enough of this..." and the policeman who looks like someone's uncle makes a funny noise and shakes his head. A few minutes later, a skinny fellow in a trench coat and sunglasses leans over to you and says, "it is a shame how old ladies sit in the piazza these days and mutter and gossip." You get the message. You listen to the Leader. Somewhere in the distance, you hear someone selling ice cream. It is hot. You wish you had a copy of Hemingway...to throw at the Leader. But you wouldn't do that anyway. You are a good citizen and have always been a good citizen.

It had the extra benefit of allowing my friends to have a little extra penance during Lent. In fact it became so popular (one week I had no fewer than seven people send me emails saying "stop sending me those stupid things. I have no time for this nonsense.") that I knew then and there that I had to start posting this to an even bigger audience. Writing for a chain of newspapers wasn't enough. I had to be heard in Slovakia, in Ireland, in Germany, in Italy, in Malta, in Canada, yes, even in Canada.

And I have a reader of this blog who is an elected official in one of the above nations. I will let you guess, although it won't do you any good, because I am not saying. Anyway, this country obviously does not provide enough entertainment for its elected officials.

So, the Friday Afternoon Sermons are dear to my heart. Maybe I will wear a turban while writing the next one.

Do any of you know how to tie a turban? You do tie turbans, don't you?

Preview of coming attractions!

I have been thinking about Lenten resolutions, and, in the great spirit of coming up with penances for others, I have decided to impose on you, my dear readers, a return of FRIDAY AFTERNOON SERMONS on each of the Fridays of Lent! I know you miss those.

Attendance is, of course, mandatory. We will be taking roll, and we will ask the absent to come down to the station to have a little chat with the captain. Or the Colonel, if things go that far. Usually they don't. A chat with the captain, with or without the Good Doctor present, usually settles the mind and returns folks to normal life.

And please, remember to bring your ID cards. Nothing irritates me more than people who come to compulsory rallies without their ID cards.

Your assignment, in order to be in the ideal mindset, is to repeat twevle times a day "if you have done nothing wrong, you have nothing to be afraid of."

Remember, the Duce dislikes grumbling. Don't be a grumbler.

Believe!
Obey!
Fight!