Lunch with Salmon (Tom, that is)

I had lunch with Tom Salmon today, Vermont’s State Auditor. He suggested we meet at J. Morgans so we could discuss “the future.” And so we did.

But I guess I should back up a bit. Because you’re wondering how Snarky Boy gets such invitations. You doubter, you.

You see, Snarky Boy and Tom Salmon go way back. Our fathers worked together. Or, more accurately, my father worked for Tom’s father. And, of course, we all know that Tom’s father was the former governor of Vermont.

Like me, my father was a painter. And, like me, my father got many contracts with the state to paint, caulk and otherwise prettify their large portfolio of “buildings and grounds” in Montpelier. My father liked to think that he was Governor Tom’s connection to the workingman.

At least that’s what he told us. The better money would be on the fact that Governor Tom was a damn good politician. He had to be, being only the second Democratic governor in Vermont in the previous 109 years.

Little Tom isn’t nearly as likeable as his father. I don’t think he ever really liked people. Where Governor Tom worked hard to earn the respect of others, Little Tom seems to think others should work hard to earn his respect.

This is nothing I don’t share with the Toms, either. And, for whatever reason, they don’t seem to mind the Snarkmaster’s verbal smack downs. I’d say they like it “straight, with no chaser,” but that’s a bit loaded.

Little Tom, as you know, is still trying to shake the political and personal sting out of his DUI bust a couple of years ago. Yeah, you remember that: “Do you know who I am?” Seriously, Tom, you didn’t know about trooper-dash cameras? But it was a nice little dance you did with that straight line you were supposed to be walking. Oh my.

My guess is that Little Tom’s relationship with liquor is about like his relationship with political parties: on again/off again. For now, he’s “not drinking” (and he didn’t at lunch). And, for now, he’s “a Republican.” But, then again, it was only a few short years ago that he was a happily drinking Democrat.

I always get a little nervous about people who can make such dramatic shifts in their lives. I get the whole drinking/not-drinking thing (especially after you get popped for a DUI), but the Democratic/Republican switch is a different ballgame.

Actually, on second thought, maybe he’s right: A sober Republican isn’t that different than a drunk Democrat. The joke’s on us, my friends.

And now we’re out of time. To be continued….

Industrial Wind (cartoon version)

Translation:
“As long as it’s green — it doesn’t hurt!”
“What pleasurable dunes!”

{Hat tip to the indispensable Kirby Mountain}

Afternoon Thought

You do not deserve a fucking minute of my time.

Time’s up.

Welch: Styrofoam Cups Are The New Deck Chairs

The nation is on the brink of bankruptcy. We’re in five different wars. And jobs are as scarce as a skinny Hardwickian. But – don’t worry – Vermont’s Congressman Peter Welch has got a solution: Ban Styrofoam cups in the congressional café.

It’s true. And it gets worse.

Because not only did Vermont’s lone congressman decide that banning these Styrofoam cups was a top priority, he lost.

That’s right. Welch’s bill to ban Styrofoam cups in the congressional café was defeated.

And the people on the sinking ship yelled: “Fuck yeah!”

But, seriously, does Peter Welch think he’s in the student council? Styrofoam cups? Really?

Don’t get me wrong, I know Styrofoam cups are evil. And I know all about how recycling will deliver us from our evils. But, for fuck’s sake, the country is going down the tubes and Welch is whining about the goddamn ingredients in cups? I guess that’s how millionaires are made, huh Peter?

Go ahead, Peter, rearrange those Styrofoam cups on your Ship of Fools. You must be so proud.

Too Hot to Care? Vermont’s Eco Groups Fall Silent on Shumlin’s New SUVs

Maybe it’s just too hot for activism this week. But wait, maybe it’s too hot because of the lack of activism. Yeah, that’s it.

Which, I guess, almost perfectly explains the push and pull in the mind of the modern-day-liberal: Does it matter? Can I just make a donation? Fuck it.

But, of course, they’d never say, “Fuck it.” Nope, it’s not polite enough. They’d prefer: To ignore you and IT for as long as it takes for IT (read: The Issue) to go away.

Holy shit, this is starting to sound like my family dynamics. But that’s another story.

Because today’s topic is silence. Yes, silence, the official liberal sound/song while Democrats occupy the offices they most admire.

Notice, for example, how quickly they stopped caring about Bush’s wars once they became Obama’s wars. Viola! Wars be gone. Or not.

And there’s no better example of liberal ninniness than Vermont liberal ninniness. Because, goddamnit, we’re Vermonters. Duh.

It was, therefore, no surprise that the announcement by Vermont’s Governor Pete (not the moose) Shumlin to lease a fleet of SUVs to shuttle him around was met with complete silence by Vermont’s eco/liberal groups.

The oh-so-apparent irony of the new Democratic governor, who made his “deep concern” about global warming one of his top pre-election issues, deciding to replace the more fuel-efficient vehicles of his Republican (and global warming skeptic) predecessor just seems too…well…difficult for the people who are making boatloads of money fighting – ahem – global warming to speak up about.

And the public address announcer sez: Bill McKibben to the plate please. Or VPIRG. Or VNRC. Or the Vermont Sierra Club. Or…you get the point.

Silence. Nothing but silence.

Because, silly boy, the transgressions of “party” members must be ignored so that donations (and cocktail party invitations) remain intact. Better yet, sez the liberal manifesto, when confronted by such devastating ironies, begin to make counter accusations so as to make everyone just go back to sleep. You know, something like: Bachman has migraines! Or, Nader!.

Poor Vermont liberals, they thought buying a Prius and voting for Obama and Shumlin was going to make it all better.

Maybe they can borrow Shumlin’s SUV to drive over that pile of shit?

Oh no, another musical crush….

Buke & Gass

Happy Snarky Monday

OMG, what a coincidence! The Vermont woman who has raised more than $500,000 for Barack Obama’s re-election was the same woman who introduced Michelle Obama when she visited Vermont. That is so weird. Think of the odds?

Repeat after me: No one loves Philip Baruth more than Philip Baruth loves Philip  Baruth.

[Research shows that if you use the name Philip Baruth in your posts your traffic goes up significantly. Who cares if it’s all just Philip Baruth looking up more on Philip Baruth. Every click is money, baby. Philip Baruth.]

It was reported over the weekend that Vermont’s Senator Bernie Sanders has raised over $1.6 million for his re-election campaign.

In terms of Vermont, it translates to: A lot of fucking money.

In terms of irony, it translates to: Too fucking funny.

Yes, the hippie-turned-millionaire-thanks-to-gullible-Vermonters, is raising record amounts of money while…ahem…ranting about the obscene amounts of money politicians are raising while in office.

I love Vermont.

Hardwick Dental. Now THAT’S an oxymoron.

Since I lost several jobs the last time I started blogging about my personal life, I’m a bit skittish about it this time around. Please, people, be cool. It’s a small state and when I tell you I’m painting a state building, I don’t need you snark-detectors out there poking around and making trouble.

It got so bad at one point that I even had to stop going to Charlie O’s. Yeah, that bad. Because we all know how hard it is to sit and drink while surrounded by the Norwich Neanderthals who’ve taken over McGilly’s?

Yeah, yeah, I know: There’s Three Penny Taproom now. But I’m already broke.

But now I’ve changed my mind. About the personal stuff, that is.

And, no, it has nothing to do with the rumors about She’s Right and Snarky Boy hooking up.

Wait. What did I just say?

Never mind.

Happy Snarky Monday, you dorks.

Breaking Wind, Part 2

Dontcha wish the people who made the decision to ban billboards along Vermont’s Interstates decades ago were around today to put an end to the industrialization — via corporate wind — of the state’s ridge tops?

Big wind is a big mistake.

Breaking Wind

Repeat after me: The dumbest thing Vermont could do would be to give our mountaintops to industrial wind.

Vermont Sez: Three Cheers for Utility Monopolies!

The State of Vermont, the place where a vote for Obama is a vote for “shut-the-fuck-up-and-let-me-sleep,” is wetting itself with excitement over today’s news that its two energy corporation giants – CVPS and Green Mountain Power – are merging. Never mind that the merger/marriage is the result of a Canadian corporation forcing them to the altar. Oops, did I really say that? There goes my chance to be on Vermont This Week with whatshisname and his gang of pasty nappers. Oh well, there’s always next week on This Week, right?

But I digress.

What I wanted to say was: Vermont, you silly state of fools, stop cheering already.

Unless, of course, you like to cheer the nation to your north who seems to be enjoying the consumption of your electric lunch. Yes, for the geographically challenged amongst us, that would be: Canada.

The merger of two electric utility corporations that will mean one corporate entity owning and controlling 70% of the state’s electricity distribution cannot and will not be a good thing.

Governor Peter Shumlin might be enjoying pinching the ass of Green Mountain Power’s Mary Powell right now (oh, look at the big, happy Vermont family!), but this, too, shall pass. Crushes rarely materialize, dontcha know?

And then all Vermonters will be left holding the same bag marked: Oh Canada.

True, both of Vermont’s electric giants are stuck between a Canadian rock and a Canadian hard place (since both buyout offers involved Canadian energy titans), but that doesn’t mean Vermonters have to pretend that a choice between giving our energy future away for three cents rather than two-and-a-half cents is something to cheer about.

Either way, we’re losing energy autonomy.

Hip, hip, hooray?

Good luck with that.