State of denial
It only took a few conveniently dissolved date-rape pills in some Modesto scribe’s Earl Grey for me to snag Rip Van Blown Deadline’s media badge from the Capitol Garage bar and actually get inside My Darling’s rainy Tuesday State of the State speech. My press row seat at the back of the Assembly Chambers afforded me an unobstructed view of My Man of Steel Pecs—until that pig Nancy Vogel plopped down directly in front of me. Look at her, all smug like she’s Helen Thomas at Jack Kennedy’s after-hours press conference inside a White House coat closet. Nan, you ain’t nothing but the latest L.A. Times lipstick hack to cover California politizzzzz. Honestly, who reads that crap? Apparently legislators flocking around her do. It’s enough to—OH MY GAWD! SUMMON THE CHIPPES!! PHIL SPECTOR HAS INFILTRATED THE CHAMBERS!!! My bad. It’s Carole Migden. Afternoon showers are murder on that ’do, eh honey? Poopsie lit up the room as he talked prison reform and climate reform and health-care reform and education reform and budget reform and how we all must work together reform and … zzzzzz. Huh? Whaa? Is he still talking? Aw, what the hell, let’s face it: By the time you read this, his speech will be spun, digested and composted. Let me simply add the scariest thing inside the chambers next to Midg’s ’fro and Mrs. Schwarzenbitch in the gallery: Lovie Govie told the sad story of Todd, whose health insurer dropped him after he was diagnosed with cancer by deeming a previous knee problem unrelated to the Big C a policy-busting pre-existing condition. Eight months later, Todd was dead. Know how in State of the [fill in the blank] speeches one side of the aisle applauds this while the other side applauds that? Arnie saying, “We are taking action to make sure what happened to Todd will not happen to any other Californian” drew the speech’s most-spontaneous clapping … from everyone except Republicans, whose hands jingled loose change in their pockets. The message is clear: With the lone exception of My Last Action Hero, Republicans want you to die. Mama needs a whole lot more date-rape pills.