This week in Washington

This could be a very busy week in Washington.

Karl Rove could be charged with something. Scooter Libby is in the same boat. Did his dad make it big canning peas? The President's Supreme Court choice, what's-her-name, is out of the boat and sinking according to Sen. "Swallow the closest Microphone" Schumer. (And no, I don't know if I spelled all of their names right nor do I care.)

That's the key word. Care. Out here in what they call "fly over country" I don't think many of us do care. The exception is that growing number of our finest who are giving their lives in the service of freedom. Don't you guys dare pull another Viet Nam and that includes you, Senator Hagel. (He's one of our locals who went to Washington and got the big head that he was big stuff.)

The fact is, we don't care. Let them fly over. Let them fight. Let them swallow microphones in Washington. Let them choke on those microphones or whatever else they like to swallow out there. Even the cows are mad well errr...sick of them.

I have a solution, however. No, it's not a new party. That won't work. As soon as the new party leaders find the microphones, it will be sameo. We need something more dramatic than a new party. Perhaps we need a new city for the heart of government. I nominate Boise. The west is still alive out there and they have a nice long runway for Air Force One. Plus, they can give a new "spin" to corrupt politicians and "life is all about me" reporters.

Just hang 'em. I think the founders would like that.

Ah...to be a leaf

There is a little Henry David Big T in my old soul. I loveth the outeth doors. Especially in the spring because of tornados--but also in the fall because of majesty. Fall is when nature calls the great things of the earth to cometh fourth. No, really.

Fall is when the harvest begins. The great Nebraska fields of tall green corn turn to brown and the combines create great clouds of brown dust as they turn the rows into mounds of yellow golden nuggets. Pay up Department of Agriculture. We hath doneth it again and filleth the elevators with more #2 yellow corn that nobody wanteth. Unless gas gets any higher.

The pumpkins and the gords reach deep into the black Nebraska dirt and search for that little bit of something that will turn them from green into brilliant shades of gold. Neateth. This is the time of year when we can teach children how to skillfully use a sharp knife to cuteth a big smile. Double neateth.

And, for those optimists amoungeth us, the knights of the plains, those majestic cottonwoods turn to all kinds of colors...gold and red and brown. And the sugar maple creates an even more impressive stew of color. Free no lesseth.

Slowly, the grip of summmer goeth as the winds of the North turn natures air conditioning well below the comfort level. The leaves fill the air with changing color and blow into piles of laugh creating crunch.

Then..."whack." A sound of steel on steel? A threat? Should I run Henry David Big T?

No, alas. It's the human ending this great and grand color spectacle with a common rake. All of the glorious color is soon stuffed into giant brown bags with Wal-Mart written on the side. Soon, a truck comes along and crunches the great color scheme even more before depositing this most grand of paintings in a giant mound with empty tuna can, junk food wrappers, and dirty disposable diapers.

I understand now, Henry David Big T. The bitter cold of winter is what nature gives us when we treat her beautiful fall like thisith.

Thought I would NEVER do this!

I had a chance to go to the Nebraska-Iowa State football game today and I passed. (As in decided not to go instead of well...passed -vs- run.) I am not that football nuts anymore.

That, folks, is absolutely amazing. I used to be as football nuts as they come. You can tell a football nut, a Nebraska football nut, by the way they talk about the game. Nebraska never loses a game to a better team. They lose because they made too many mistakes. They lose because the ref made a bad call. They lose because the moon is full.

They lost me. Too much money. Too much time. Too much Rattletrap Rose.

I have fallen in love with other things. Sure, I am happy to see them win but it is not a big deal when they lose.

It used to be.

I would mope for days. I would get angry. I would see the season slip away into the Independence Bowl. Those were tough times. I would get on the band wagon when a player got arrested for something. "He's just a kid, let him play."

Truth is, some kids need to go to jail not to a bowl game.

I don't miss those arguments, either.

So I am going to learn some new things today. Lately, the new things have to do with Red Cross training. I learned how to do CPR and run a defibulator.

It wasn't too long ago when this Husker fan might have needed those things.