Around the Blogroll and Elsewhere: Sleepy Sunday edition

It's yet another gray Sunday here in New Jersey, after a brief and lovely respite yesterday that saw temperatures approaching 60 and a glimmer of blue sky. It was a day that saw me, along with friends, shlepping into the city (something I would ONLY do for a very few selected people) to see Jason Hart at the piano and the lovely and ferociously talented (why is this man not starring on Broadway???) Dennis Blackwell at the Metropolitan Room. This sort of cabaret thing is usually not where you'll find me. The closest you'll get to this is certain Broadway shows, where my oldest and dearest friend Kelly and I are playing tit-for-tat in perpetuity, making each other sit through shows the other one loathes as payback for sins past.

It all started when she wanted to see a little number called Blood Brothers, because as a child of the 1970's, she wanted to see the Cassidys David and Shaun together on Broadway. I don't remember much about it, other than Carole King played the mother, and that it was an interminable mess -- going on probably longer than the Russian movie version of War and Peace or those Lord of the Rings marathons where for one price you got admission to all three movies, a 2-liter Pepsi, and assorted junk food to fuel the journey. I got my payback when I made her sit through the godawful Jessica Lange-starring revival of the Glass Menagerie which I wanted to see only because I would pay good money to watch Josh Lucas tie his shoes, let alone appear as the Gentleman Caller. So at that point we were even. But it was my idea to see Wonderful Town, which managed to be sleep-inducing DESPITE the marvelous presence of Donna Murphy, and my idea to see the revival of The Apple Tree, one of my favorite shows of all time, one which I enjoyed more than she did. So right now she is making noises that when they do a revival of Evita, I'm on the hook despite the fact that I would rather have root canal without anesthesia than sit through anything associated with the name "Andrew Lloyd Webber."

But off we went yesterday, along with other friends, to go be sophisticated New Yorkers in a darkened cabaret room on a Saturday afternoon, where I sucked down two fabulicious espresso martinis and listened to an all-too-short program of everything from Dennis' mournful take on Elvis Costello's Allison to the gorgeous and mesmerizing Venice from William Finn's song cycle Elegies (which for my money was the highlight of the show) to, for some strange reason known only to stage director ModFab, the most bizarre rendition of Amy Winehouse's Rehab that you will ever hear.

So this morning I'm still wishing the show was longer and marvelling at just how quickly $20 bills disappear in Manhattan, and checking out what's new in the blogosphere and news media as the Democrats relentlessly march towards their inevitable and by now extremely tiresome self-destruction in November.

Instead of stonewalling, Barack Obama dealt diretly with questions about his relationship with Tony Rezko to the satisfaction of the Chicago Tribune, which reaffirms the paper's endorsement.

Mithras has some things to say about Florida Democratic donors who want to take their dollies and dishes and go home.

Greg Palast sees a link between the $200 billion bailout of mortgage bankers and the Eliot Spitzer bust.

Cernig on Iran's election and why it's more difficult every day for Bush
to try to paint Mahmoud Ahmadinejad as today's Hitler.

Hubris Sonic wants to know why Vicki Iseman is the only blond white woman who seems to have disappeared off the faith of the earth that the media aren't covering nonstop.

Skippy gets on the writers strike bandwagon started by some disgruntled Clintonistas over at Le Grand Orange. Good thing I hate the band Rush or I'd have to go out in solidarity.

Tata on why white male bullies' days are numbered. (We can only hope.)

Driftglass on L'affaire Ferraro.

Distributorcap on Captain Idiot's economic speech on Friday. (Gail Collins is also actually worth reading for a change on this subject as well.)

John Cole has some choice words about Wingnut Logic.

State-sponsored terrorism: Fallenmonk on how our own government has done more damage to us than terrorists.

Because my job relies on grant money, I'm always sympathetic for bloggren who fall on hard times. Now is the time to pass the hat for Blue Gal. And if you want to know why, it's because this kind of sheer utter goofiness deserves our support.

Now go forth and buy corned beef and heads of cabbage and six-packs of Smithwicks. And sin no more.