Girly-Men and Dumb Jocks

Oh boy oh boy oh boy, they're at it again in Sacramento. Arnold calls the Democrats "girly-men" and the people's work grinds to a halt. (As sound bites go, you gotta admit "girly-men" is not a bad one, even if the sentiment is distasteful). California Democrats, never the most level-headed bunch in the world, careen off into outer space in paroxysms of righteous outrage. Well, at least we can count on President Pro Tem John Burton, the venerable sage of the California Senate, to keep his cool, right? Go Johnnie go:

"You can't go kick somebody in the groin and then say, you know, 'Let us reason together. Come, let us join hands and sing Kum Ba Yah.' "

Darn. No joined hands in the Capitol rotunda, no Kum Ba Yah ringing out under the dome. Now what? How ya gonna get back at him, big John? What sinister underworld plot are you going to hatch to really, really show him that you're not soft, that you can stand up to old Governor Muscle-Head himself, that you're NOT a, well, you know? Oh no. Not that. Not the dreaded cappuccino-and-strudel boycott! Say it ain't so, John. But it IS so, says right here in the San Jose Mercury News:

"Burton and the governor have established a close personal relationship over coffee and strudel. On Monday, as a sign of his frustration, Burton taped a sign to his cappuccino-maker: "Closed until further notice.' ''

Attaboy, John, let him have it, right in his ugly mug. Coffee mug, that is. That should put to bed (pardon the expression) this girly-men talk once and for all.

It's all very puzzling, this spectacle of two allegedly grown men acting like, like, oh I don't know, a girly-man and a dumb jock. And what IS a girly-man anyway? Gay activists and feminists are quick to seize on it as a derogatory slur against them, but is it? I don't recall ever hearing the term, but that's probably because I don't hang around Gold's Gym with the muscle-shirt-and-anabolic-steroid crowd. For all I know, that's what they call ME when I walk by on my way to the Dairy Queen, who knows? Doesn't spill a lot of beer around my house if they do, but different strokes for different folks. And doesn't long-term steroid use (which of course Arnold never indulged in during his weight training days) make you impotent and grow breasts? Wouldn't that be a reasonable definition of a girly-man right there? To say nothing of Arnold's own propensities for high-heeled shoes, pancake make-up, defoliations, and manicures. Hey, no problem, Gov, explore your metrosexual side, works for me. But watch out for the glass-house-throwing-stones thing, if you get my drift.

Despite the sheer entertainment value of it all, there's something more serious going on here. Because of this tempest in a teapot, the budget negotiations are going to be stalled until mid to late AUGUST. That's right, a full month. Of course, it's just the budget, just how they spend our F----ING TAX MONEY, not like it's something I care about. Let's hear from Senator Burton one more time on the prospect of sitting down to negotiate with the governor apres le deluge:

"It doesn't work that way in life. It doesn't work that way in politics. And it doesn't really work that way in the Capitol.''

Since you brought up the subject, John, old pal, let's talk about work. Now I'm no political scientist, but don't we send you and yours to Sacramento for the express purpose of passing a budget? If I'm not mistaken, that's the only statutory obligation the legislature has, to pass a budget every year by June 15th. Oh sure, you do other things -- raise taxes, give self-serving speeches to an empty chamber, pass resolutions honoring some rich contributor's dead cat -- but that stuff is all optional. Your one essential task, the one and only entry under "Required" in your job description, the only piece of real WORK (there's that word again) that you have to do to justify your pay (and we do pay you, John) is to pass a budget every year.

So as Dr. Phil would say, "How's that working out for you?" Well, thanks for asking, but not worth a tinker's dam. Our stalwart lawmakers who can always find time for all manner of horsing around on our nickel, our dedicated politicians who work their fingers to the bone at the State Capitol, our paragons of virtue on both sides of the aisle --- these esteemed gentlemen (and they are mostly men, duh) never, never, NEVER seem to get around to passing a budget by June 15th.

And no wonder. Arnold called them girly-men and now they can't work. Too upset. Too traumatized. Give me a break! "I can't clean my room 'cause Sissy hit me!," it's about on that level. Note that he insulted them in mid-July. HELLO! The budget deadline was already a month past. Was it some kind of retroactive slip, an anticipatory thing? They didn't pass the budget on time because they were sure, absolutely sure, that Arnold was going to say something nasty about them a month later? While we're at it, shall we blame Mr. Schwarzenegger for all the missed budget deadlines in the last 20 years? (That would be almost as silly as blaming it on Reagan...)

I think not. In my humble opinion, you all need to roll up you cappuccino-and-strudel-stained sleeves, and (forgive the expression, Senator Burton) GET BACK TO WORK!!! How dare you delay negotiations on the California state budget, our budget, MY BUDGET, because someone hurt your delicate feelings? (And by the way, I would pay big money to hear what you and the other Democrats say about Arnold behind his back. Not that he doesn't deserve it, mind you.) It's a surprise to you that this muscle-bound empty-headed jock called you a name? The only thing surprising here is that you and your buddies seem to think that justifies you not doing your jobs! So the governor is a foul-mouthed moron. So what? GET BACK TO WORK!!!! You may not believe this, but out here in the real world, we can't just fold up our tents and go home when our feelings get hurt. We still have to do our jobs. Why should it be any different for you and yours? Buck up, shut up, grow up, show up, and pass the damned budget.

Why? Because it's your job, John. Simple as that.

Now pass the strudel, girly-man.

CLUELESS IN BLOGLAND
July 21, 2004

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