No Cure Afterall?

Feeling under the weather, I found myself doing something I never, ever do. I watched Larry King Live for more than five minutes. The guest was Dr. James Dobson, the ultra-conservative founder of Foundation of the Family.

King mentioned the disgraced minister Ted Haggard who was forced to step down after his drug-fueled rompings with a gay escort became news before the election. Dobson, a true man of God, says he didn't have the time to minister to Haggard as he returns to the fold. He admitted the process, which also includes curing Haggard of his desires, could take years.

The good doctor is just too busy.

Or perhaps he is too upset by the timing of Haggard's news or he knows that deep down these curing sessions almost never, ever work. As Josh Marshall points out, wouldn't a Haggard cure be a great endorsement for the post-gay crowd?

Some friend.

A Landwhat?!

Waters did its first ever German-language edition. As Europe becomes a true financial powerhouse -- too many regs in New York so launch that IPO in London, baby! -- Waters needed to expand its scope. Makes sense. As a NY boy, I tend to focus on Wall Street stories and my British-born publisher wants our magazine to be truly global. (How we can do this with three editors in NY and London is another matter).

So, we hire writers, one in Germany, and we create an issue. We hire a translation bureau and hire a proof reader who is skilled in the language. So far, so Teutonic.

Anyway, due to an editing and art direction (apparently) error, we have a serious typo on our cover. The cover!

Instead of saying, in German, Deutsche Boerse: A New Landscape, it seems that we dropped off the letter T in the last word.

It reads: Deutsche Boerse: A New Land Sheep.

The Nov-Dec Book Dilemma

Okay, I've finished a great novel -- The Emporer's Children by Claire Massud -- and I am still looking for another great one. I picked up Elmore Leonard's Mr. Paradise at JFK on the way to London because he's great for some downtime and I like those trade paperbacks. But where is my next great book?

I have Lay of the Land by Richard Ford and that looks promising. Picked it up in London and iot has one of those fabric bookmarks. So classy and sa doamned annoying. I don't know what to do with the thing! I could cut it off but hey, that's not nice. I ordered an old copy of Seeing Calvin Coolidge in a Dream by paleocon John Derbyshire. I like the Derb's comments on The Corner of the National Review web site and this is supposed to be a charming little book, but we'll see.

In the mean time, the object of my lust is this: A new MacBook. There's a program at work that allows you to buy one at a discount and a few dollars are taken out of each paycheck to pay it off. Way cool. All I see when I look at this baby are the novels I want to write, the podcasts and songs to record for my fan base, and the videos to shoot and edit. See? I am not even a Mac owner and I'm already insufferable.

London Times

Being in London during the 06 elections and you feel a tad under water. The Beeb reported the main news -- good day for dems, bad for W -- but they didn't report the races I wanted to hear about.

In Westchester, my son's therapist's brother-in-law ran against a Republican, Sue Kelly. He's John Hall, the lead singer of Orleans. I had to wait to read about his return. It turns out that Kelly ranaway from a reporter on video when asked about Mark Foley, the congressman with a thing for teenage pages.

I was also interested in the Attorney general race. I liked Jeanine Pirro as the Westchester AG but she ran a lousy campaign against Hillary that even George Pataki urged her to drop out. And she was caught on tape urging a top NYPD official to bug her husband's yacht because of a long-brewing affair. Jeanine P is one of those odd contradictions: she fights for women's rights, she is smart and tough but seems addicted to her scumbag husband. That is why her initial race with Hillary would have been something to watch.

Still, couldn't vote for Andrew Cuomo. He needs to be stopped and now.

London was fun. The weather held out and it's a city with a ton of energy. The neighborhoods last for about a block or two and I cannot walk for long without getting lost. Oh, but for NYC's grid system...

Not all was fun for some. One morning, outside the hotel, a maid was furiously scrubbing the sidewalk. According to the clerk, there had been a stabbing. Couldn't wait to get back to Manhattan after that.

But even that didn't compare to a cab ride where I was lectured on the ultimate terrorists, George W. Bush. He ranted about the terrors of the F-16 and the B-52 bomber and no one mentions that. "And don't get me started on bloody Israel." So, here it comes. I paid the fare and he said that one day Americans would be lucky enough to go to Cuba like the rest of the world. Ah, sweet Cuba. Fine cigars, teen prostitutes and jails for homosexuals. Sounds so civilized, no?