From the Kitchen Counter…

View of cabin (my retreat from the week of craziness):

Mood Reading: ZZZ’s

**My apologies for getting Mr. Akin’s name wrong in an earlier version:  it’s Todd, not Ted.

I came to the cabin this weekend directly from visiting a friend in the San Francisco Bay area for a few days. I always enjoy her company, kinship, stimulating conversation, and Cakebread Chardonnay. One of the several topics of breakfast conversation revolved around the absurdity of Todd Akins recent public comments regarding “legitimate” (as opposed to illegitimate) rape.  His utterance drew fire from both sides of the aisle and was denounced by both parties as pretty much wholly ridiculous, and his later explanation that he “misspoke” and meant to use the word “forcible” did nothing to quell the outrage.

You might say, “ah well, who cares what some nut case politician says in the heat of a campaign” and for the most part I’d have to agree.  However, it got my friend and I to talking – the whole notion that there’s a contingency of politicians out there who seem to think they’re qualified to judge, evaluate, arbitrate, and determine the voracity surrounding a despicable criminal act is down right scary.   Even though it didn’t pass, the fact that a qualifier such as the word “forcible” was even introduced into legislation, and thus the national lexicon, is a dangerous precedent – and all the more so because it then becomes a question of who gets to decide.  Is the rape that occurs under a knife by a stranger in a back alley “worse” and therefore more viable than the one between the wife who has a headache and the husband who has too much beer? And what about the cheerleader who teases her young boyfriend but who also changes her mind when things get out of control and he gets that unnerving look in his eye, is that a “lesser” rape? And finally, what about the girl passed out on the floor at a party (whether she drank too much, was the victim of a spiked drink, or just used the same poor judgment that almost all of us have at some point in our lives) is she just fair game, and wholly unprotected under the law?  Again, the question is, who gets to decide? I can only say that I’m definitely not comfortable handing that divine power to a group of politicians who not only have the lowest approval rating of any governing body in the country but can’t even balance an operating budget for longer than 3 months at a time.

The other big (and somewhat lighter) news of the week came from one charming foreign prince and involved neither frogs, or kissing, but a raucous game of slap and tickle if ever there was one.

It seems Prince Harry displayed the Family Jewels for all the world to see as the result of a strip billiard game in Las Vegas recently.  You gotta love that Harry, just one of the lads.  In the interest of “research” and accuracy, when I arrived at the cabin I went immediately to the internet café and onto the TMZ website to view the photos myself, to confirm the reports were true (you can thank me later.)  They are.  They show the studly prince standing in the buff wearing nothing but a cheeky grin and clutching what appears to be his royal prerogative. And yep, it’s true what they say about those creamy English complexions — the regal rearview revealed a bum as white (if not pure) as the driven snow.

And while he has now gone home to face a different dressing down – from the Queen herself — he has left behind for prosperity the majestic image of his imperial posterior.  I have a sense that King George is up there somewhere high-fiving and grinning – it’s taken damn near 250 years, but finally those ungrateful Colonists got what they deserved – a royal mooning by none other than one of his wayward descendant’s and direct heir (twice removed) to the throne. With the noble, blue blood lines still obviously in tact and flowing like the champagne consumed on a hot August night, the Monarchy will live on.  Vegas however, may now have to come up with a whole new ad campaign.