Talk To The Hand, Girl Friend!

Can someone, anyone, please tell Sarah that it's perfectly acceptable to take notes -- written on something aside from one's hand -- to the podium to use while making a speech?

A piece of paper. A napkin. The back of the agenda for the event. Anything. But not your hand! Doesn't she know that writing on one's own skin can lead to blood poisoning? (My mother swears that it does.) And, my goodness, writing on your own hand is so 7th grade.

Take a closer look. One of her topics has been crossed out. I wonder: did she do that while speaking?

My mind wanders...

Covered that, she thinks while crossing out note. Let's move on to...(squinting at the fourth notation, can't quite read her own writing) ...Lil' Abner? Does that actually say 'Lil' Abner'? What did I have to say about Lil' Abner? What do I know about Lil' Abner? I like comics, but these Tea Party folks don't seem to be in such a humorous mood. You think they even have a sense of humor? Maybe instead I should go back to the top of the list and talk energy. But let's get real, girl friend, what do I know about energy?

And she thinks using a teleprompter is bad form? Someone give her a clue. Please.

Good thing her speech wasn't about foreign policy. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad would take the entire palm and, with that the only note to use, the speech would be very brief. Or, far worse, what if the speech was about capitals of the world? She'd need the entire arm and more for that. A scary thought.

A scarier thought? That after all we've seen and heard, a majority of the voters of this country would still consider her President-worthy. Certainly the Republicans can find another pro-life, pro-war, anti-gay marriage, xenophobic beauty queen who writes notes on paper to compete for the land's highest office. Maybe with an understanding of world affairs? They're out there, no? (Hey, I'm just saying.)

Sorry, Sarah. This one was just way too easy. And, of course, way too hard to ignore. (I do like your glasses.)

Speaking of the power of a championship team to elevate the mood -- at least momentarily -- of an entire region, we here at The Job of Work (TJW as it's known in the Wall Street Journal) point you to the citzenry of the amazing city of New Orleans. A city ignored by its own federal government in its time of greatest need. A city in which its 9th Ward still lays largely in ruins, 4+ years after Katrina. A city with much of its population still dispersed across the country. A city that has supported its football team through thin and, recently, thick. A city that needed something -- anything -- to hasten its emotional recovery.

Now they've got it. Their beloved Saints, a mere football team, has given them something they haven't had in some time: Hope and pride. Their team won a Super Bowl. Scoff if you'd like. But don't overlook the impact of the accomplishment on those who have supported this team for years. And who needed a reason to believe.

While I know that some would say that sports is a hallow, shallow endeavor, I counter by saying that anything that provides hope and pride is worth its weight in gold. Or, in this case, beignets.

I only hope that George W. isn't waiting by the phone for a call to serve as Grand Marshall for their Super Bowl parade. You blew that one, Dude. And the parade has already happened. (But, hey, thanks for reading TJW. It's much appreciated.)

Happy Presidents' Day. See you next week from Costa Rica.