Left In Lowell

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November 22, 2012

Happy TDay!

by at 7:55 am.

I just wanted to jump for a moment off the crazy train and express my gratitude for the fact that we live in this country, where we have free speech, where we have elected representative government, and how great it is to spend the day with a bounty of food, family, and lots and lots of fabulous wine from our locally owned markets.

I hope that even the people who hate my guts have a wonderful day with them and theirs, and they realize just how lucky we are in this city, this state, and this country. And that we remember those here in the US, and worldwide, who do not share in the bounty with us. May we be ever more compassionate in our thoughts and in our policies.

With that, let turkey-day commence! Have a great one!

Lyle, Lyle, Lyle…

by at 2:00 am.

I’ve folded all my napkins fancily on carefully placed plates on two eight foot tables in my dining room now, so I thought I would take a minute to relate another tale of woebegonery as pertains to the Saga Of Me Being Really Mean, By Jove.

As you know, my name got in the paper yesterday, via a report of Mary Jo Santoro and her spectacular miscalculation of trying to accuse me of threatening her. Sarah Favot wrote the piece, which I thought was pretty fair. It certainly didn’t make me flinch (and I flinch at being the center of attention on my own birthday, so there you go, another poke in the eye of the myth that This Is All About Me).

But it seems that the story, at least as it includes me, has been yanked from her apparently capable hands. (God, I hate to see another one bite the dust at the Sun. Any bets to how long she’ll stand it?) The torch has been passed, at least it appears, to Campi’s little shadow, Lyle Moran. I know this because he called me this afternoon (and I have heard that he called others as well). Out of a morbid curiosity I called him back. More on that in a sec - you’ll love it, it’s all about the sausage making, or in this case, amateurishly broadcasting your utter bias in a leading two-sentence “question.”

I do love being the Sun’s special case. It tickles me no end that Campi hasn’t lost his unhealthy obsession with “taking me down.” Like going after an unpaid blogger is all that hard. Wonder why they haven’t managed it yet? He must have been like a baby with his first successful poo, beside himself with glee, when this whole complaint thing came down. (The baby and poo thing is a euphemism. I don’t actually think Campanini wears diapers.)

Anyway, you might be awfully surprised to learn that I have very little interaction with Moran in general. I’ve heard from so many people just how amateur he acts, Jack likes to refer to the “cub reporter” after all. And I’ve read some of his drivel, articles with logical holes so large you can drive a train through them (so he really is learning a lot from his mentor). But personal experience? I barely exchange a word with the guy. (more…)

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