No Cranberry for Mitch's Nonna
Editors' note: Thom was under the influence of cold medicine when writing this blog.
Three weeks ago, when Mitch was checking flights from the recently-proclaimed new country of Ski Colorado to the small town of Waco, Texas, he had no idea that Tom Ridge, Yahoo!, and his grandmother's Thanksgiving turkey would all be out to get him.
It started harmlessly enough with the Internet (doesn't it always?). Mitch sat at his computer, humming the refrain from "Over the River and Through the Woods" while he waited for Bill Shatner's disembodied head on priceline.com to tell him that his bid on a plane ticket was the winner. Bill was taking longer than usual, so Mitch opened another browser window and started playing with Yahoo! Map's driving directions. I had teased him previously that his trip to visit his Nonna during Thanksgiving was really just a ruse to give him an alibi while he slipped over to Crawford to see if he could sneak on The Ranch and catch a glimpse of the Bush twins skinny dipping in the stock pond. He had heard that the tabloids pay big money for photos of the Younger Bush bushes. Curiosity won out, and Mitch entered a starting point and a destination.
The starting point: Nonna's sleepy village of Lorena.
Destination: Crawford.
It was a short drive and he chuckled to himself that it would be fun to head over there on Friday just to take a photo of the front gate. Behind the scenes, though, past the silicone and diodes, the "Crawford" red flag had been raised by Yahoo! Maps which signalled the Homeland Security databases to compare the IP address of Mitch's computer with his political affiliations. It glided smoothly past the harmless "college ski club," "Italian American," "internet hacker," and "NAMBLA," but hit a snag by a recent addition to his homeland security file: "Turner/Phelps contributing editor."
When Mitch arrived at his Nonna's house on Thanksgiving morning, Tom Ridge and his SS team (Secret Service) were waiting for him. No sooner had he said "Ciao," to his aged grandmother, than they leapt out of her red tip photinia bushes and dragged him off to their secret interrogation safe house just outside of McGregor. After several hours of questioning, finger-printing, and full body cavity searches, the unmarked SS black van pulled up to Nonna's house and pushed a bewildered and sore Mitch out onto the front lawn.
While Mitch was in custody, his grandmother continued to cook the Thanksgiving feast, but had been so distraught that she forgot to turn the oven temperature from a balmy pie-baking 325 degrees, to the turkey-roasting 385. The resulting salmonella poisoning from undercooked poultry landed Mitch in Waco's Holy Sister's Hospital for the remainder of the weekend where he received heavy doses of antibiotics and a full reconstructive rectalectomy for the SS damage done to his rectum.
His ultra-liberal Summit County lawyers entered the fray Monday morning, and Tuesday morning, Tom Ridge announced his resignation.
The least we can do is thank Mitch for taking one for the team and give Tom a hearty, "Good-bye."
On a side note:
Check out the amount of time Yahoo! Maps says it will take to drive 29.3 miles. Don't they realize that this is Texas? Driving time in Texas is always one mile = one minute, if not less. Sheesh.
And not the fundamentalist, Islamist wackos, but insight from educated, moderate, objective journalists who happen to be working for the Qatar news network. An interesting look at the inside of this small news agency in a tiny country surrounded by the chaos of political and cultural struggle.
First he turned a fire hydrant into a toad-like imp and commanded it to dance around his cadre of secret service agents, then he levitated several inches off the ground and made smoke billow from his ears. As his car pulled away, he flashed his trademark firey pentagram on the palm of his hand and turned Al Franken into a blithering idiot.
Prior to the beginning of the seige, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld predicted that the losses would be low, though he didn't qualify that with what he considers "low" to be. (10? 100? 1,000?) And now, as the battle for Fallujah rages on and more of our soldiers fall, we should ask him directly, "At what point do low losses become moderate losses, Mr. Secretary? And what's the milestone for high losses? We've already sacrificed over 1,000 American soldiers in this crack-pot quest to bring freedom (as defined by George Bush) to the Middle East. Where do we draw the line? Or, is there no end to the number of soldiers you'll throw under this out-of-control locomotive to stop it?"

In a recent update, Mitch has informed me that he will be moving into a new place soon, where he will play the guitar and sing folk songs to the disenfranchised transients who are willing to do almost anything to share the warmth of his rotting filth.
BUT WAIT, there's more TURNER/PHELPS to read!