Snarky Boy

The Snarky Boy Book of the Month.

The big news of the day – in Vermont, that is – is that the former news donkey, Chris Graff, now an executive with National Life (read: good at following orders), served as the moderator (and we do mean served) of a panel with five Vermont citizens who’ve been called “governors.”

Boy, oh boy, doesn’t that just sound stimulating? Not.

If fucking Nyquil has to warn its customers about drowsiness, shouldn’t the same be required of this kind of gathering? And, by “this kind of gathering,” I mean anything associated with Graff.

Goodnight moon. Goodnight Chris Graff howling at the governor’s moons.

Or, if that doesn’t work, let’s try this: Go to fucking sleep, Chris Graff.

Anything. Please. Just leave us alone and make your money on the National Life hillside.

I only needed to see bits and pieces of the “show” to know that there was one and only one important message: Be careful about too much alcohol consumption because you might end up looking like Tom Salmon the senior.

But, then again, that message went out the window after having to endure the whiney-howdy-doody-nonsense of the obviously-non-drinking Jim Douglas.

To which, the audience said: Drink, please. And fast.

And then, of course, there was Howard Dean being Howard Dean (read: rich kid still knowing that he’s a rich kid and ready and willing to take his ball and go home if you don’t treat him like one). Whatever.

The really weird part of the event was that current Vermont governor, Peter Shumlin, was also on the panel. Maybe it’s not so weird. Because – after pussy – we know Shumlin’s next love is the camera. Any camera. And now.

Shumlin gave a bizarre rant about how “the voters” are upset and confused because the people they elect never turn out to “look like them.”

Huh?

No, Peter, “the voters” are upset and confused because our elected leaders keep misunderstanding why we are upset and confused.

For the upteenth time, it goes like this: You’re a bunch of elitist, careerist, blowhards who think and act as if “the voters” don’t know that you are a bunch of elitist, careerist, blowhards.

Don’t worry, Graff didn’t go there. So the nice audiences of VPR and VPTV didn’t have to choke on their oak-barreled single-malt-scotch while tuning into the affair (read: fundraiser soon).

In the end we learned this (again): Vermont is better. Why? Because…um…because our governors will sit down with an old, soft journalist-turned-corporate-flack and talk about their good old days of propagating the mantra that…well…Vermont is better.

I love simple Vermont.

Rinse and repeat.

I’ve decided that you’re not really that interesting.

If you’re feeling more than a bit groggy today I’ll bet it’s because you listened to Mark Johnson’s radio interview with Eric Davis this morning. It took a double red-eye blast from Capitol Grounds to jolt me from my slumber – and barely.

Johnson – of ain’t we folksy-and-cute WDEV fame – has a thing for Eric Davis, the political science professor from Middlebury College. Why? I do not know. Because adding Davis to Johnson’s show is like adding water to cereal. Or, if you’d rather: Fucking bland.

It’s frightening to think that this nation’s elite will be sending their children to Middlebury for a mere $50,000 a year to study political science and then hear insights like this from Davis:

• Bernie Sanders is most likely going to be re-elected.
• Peter Shumlin is working hard.
• Peter Welch could effectively argue both sides of an issue.
• Pat Leahy is…whatever.

Wow. Such insight from the professor.

And then we wonder why getting elected to one of Vermont’s top four elected positions (congress, senator-times-two, and governor) amounts to a lifetime gig. Um, because the media and the so-called political analysts probe them as deeply as a mosquito probes a horse’s ass. Puns, mixed metaphors and foul language intended, by the way.

WDEV’s head honcho, Ken Squier, has been doing a lot of ranting lately about the outrageous acts of Congress, especially during the debt-ceiling crisis. He’s been bashing the Republicans and the Democrats, even all but endorsing a complete “throw the rascals out” campaign.

Until, that is, we get to Vermont’s delegation. Go figure.

Because while Squier works himself into a pre-commercial-break lather, he (and his station) largely turns to putty when the subject of Vermont’s congressional trio of Leahy, Sanders and Welch is broached.

Sorry, Kenly, but I’ll take your anti-Congress rants more seriously when you take aim at just one of our, as you say about every one of Member of Congress, “entrenched, career and complacent” congressmen.

And it shouldn’t be hard to find a target amongst our Vermont delegation when it comes to the debt-ceiling debacle. Because our three blind congressional mice covered all the bases: Leahy voted “yes” on the debt-ceiling vote; Sanders voted “no”; and Welch effectively voted “yes” and “no.”

So, pick your target, Kenly. One of them has got to fit into your paradigm of outrage, no?

We’re waiting.

Until then, please tell Mark Johnson that unless he’s willing to send us all a pound of that Vermont Coffee Company coffee that he’s always hawking, please stop putting us to sleep with Eric Davis.

Hey, what’s that heavy vibe in the air? Oh yeah, the stock market crashed.

Bummer. About the mood, that is.

Because I’m not too worried about the $2,712 I’ve got riding in my 401(k).

It doesn’t take much to spot a trust-funder in Vermont these days. Yep, they’re the ones looking like they’re trying to calculate a 20% drop in their lifestyle. Worse, they’re even thinking about the possibilities of getting a ….wait for it….JOB.

They fear the “job” word like the rest of us fear the “cancer” word.

I’ve been painting in a “professional” building of late. And yesterday, when the news was spreading around the building about the plummeting market, the chatter intensified.

These were paper shufflers in a paper-shuffling economy, realizing that maybe paper shuffling isn’t such a great thing to be doing while hunting and gathering may be in their future. File this, dumbass.

It’s kind of entertaining to watch the stock-market wealthy squirm a bit. It might give them an idea of what it’s like for the rest of us to go through each and every day wondering about…oh, things like….checking account balances. And that’s the only account we’ve got, baby.

But they’ll be fine. At worst, they’ll still have 80% of their wealth.

Actually, the worst part will be for the folks like me who they hire. Because they’ll go through another period of pretending that they’re poor.

We should show them poor.

In the meantime, it’s fun to play this while painting in their offices.

I know, I know, I started to tell you about last week’s lunch with Tom Salmon, Vermont’s Auditor, but then I got distracted by things like…well…Tom Salmon.

I guess he’s a bit sensitive these days. Or maybe he just needs a fucking drink. Whatever.

Little Tommy went a little over the top with his reaction to my first report, claiming that I was breeching some trust between us. When I finally stopped laughing and came up for a breath, he was sporting a smirk of his own. It eerily reminded me of his DUI mug shot.

Salmon, you see, is in super-sensitive-decision mode. And those of us who know him well have a special name for him at times like these: Bastard. Simple as that, really. But some of us add “spoiled” to the equation.

Decisions don’t come easy for Little Tommy. Vermonters know that by now, given his party switch and open flirtation with practically every elected position that he can pronounce (Governor! Senate! House! Auditor (again)!)

And here’s the skinny on where he’s at now: Little Tommy wants to take his ball and go home. Yep, walk away from politics.

Besides being able to hoist one again without the scrutiny (damn those DUIs!), by quitting politics now, he thinks he could put some money away by working in the private sector and continue to repair the damage his drinking and his constant politicking have done to his family life.

But there’s more: Salmon also feels deeply disrespected by his new Republican Party and Vermont’s political elite. This is where the “spoiled” part comes in.

Salmon, you see, would like to see political waters parted when he mentions an office he’d like to seek. In Little Tommy’s mind, for example, when he hints to a Vermont reporter that he’s considering a challenge to Senator Bernie Sanders next year, he fully expects the reaction to be nothing but fawning. Sound the trumpets! Here comes Salmon!

That hasn’t been the reaction, though. Mostly because the people who cover these things know that Salmon has been all over the map and, let’s not forget, he’s talking about challenging incumbents like Sanders who doesn’t bother parting political waters in Vermont because he walks on the water, damn it.

It’s more than a little ironic that Salmon’s failure to signal which race he’s going to be in come 2012 is the same reason he got pulled over for his DUI: Failure to signal. Montpelier, we have a problem.

In fact, that’s what I told him during lunch. His opponent, whomever it is, will only need those three words to keep Salmon on the defensive the entire campaign: Failure to signal. Because, they would argue, his failure to signal equals a judgment problem. Yep, the swift-boat word of the campaign will, indeed, be problem.

Salmon’s stubborn streak is leading him to flirt with a race against Bernie Sanders a whole hell of a lot more than pure logic would allow. He’s still super-pissed that it was Sanders’ buddy, John Franco, who successfully sued to have his DUI-arrest tape released to the public. And the grudge match has been on ever since – at least in Salmon’s mind.

It’s my hunch that Salmon’s going to take a breather from politics. Because, instead of parting any political waters with all his electoral flirtations, he’s just been muddying the hell out of them. And somewhere in that stubborn mind of his, he’s got to see that.

Just be careful about telling him that over lunch.

Whatever.

Yep. Due to popular demand, the team that comprises Snarky, Inc. has relented to the masses and, with the kind of haste that would make the slackers at 7Daze quiver in liberal guilt, is ready to unveil the winners of our coveted award, The Dazies.

While not all of the categories have been tabulated and crosschecked, we’re confident enough in the accounting procedures to go ahead with announcing the results below. Besides, word on the ‘nets was that MSNBC was about to release the results based on early exit polling. Fuckers.

Best Snarky Writer: Snarky Boy!

Best Writer in a Snarky Melodrama: Snarky Boy!

Best Compiler of Snarky-like Commentary: Snarky Boy!

Best Snarky Writer About Lunch with Tom Salmon: Snarky Boy!

Best Snarky Annoyer of Peter Welch: Snarky Boy!

Just the Best Snarky Guy Around: Snarky Boy!

Best Snarky Painter Who Also Writes: Snarky Boy!

Best New Snarky Person Seen Walking on Elm Street: Snarky Boy!

Best Snarky Customer at a Vermont Establishment that Advertises in 7Daze: Snarky Boy!

I’m just…well…dazed. But thrilled. And can’t wait for all the free beers coming my way at Charlie-O’s tonight.

As for a victory speech, try this:

More results to come…

Well, at least I’ve proven one theory correct: Vermont needs Snarky Boy.

You know it. And now I do, too, thanks to the avalanche of “welcome back” missives I’ve received since cranking up the snark-o-meter once again.

But it’s not your dopey backslaps that I’m craving. Nope. Because I want your information, baby. As in: Your tips. Your secrets. Your sightings of the rich and powerful (preferably in compromising situations). And your hugs. Well, maybe not your hugs.

Because Snarky Boy loves to tell it all. Or at least a hell of a lot more than you’re getting elsewhere.

Thankfully, my faithful collection of snarky sources is already playing along. Taste this:

My sources inside the Rep. Peter Welch office have confirmed to me that their boss had two versions of a press statement ready for Monday’s vote on the debt-ceiling legislation. Yes, as in: Two completely different statements arguing equally – and vehemently — for why both a yes and no vote were the “right thing to do.”

Can you say: Ambulance Chaser? I knew you could.

There’s also some consternation between the Welch and Senator Bernie Sanders camps. Sanders, of course, is also up for re-election in 2012. Certain Welch insiders are worried that Sanders’ formidable grassroots election machine will dwarf – and potentially distract from – his re-election efforts. And if an incumbent is sacrificed in a potential “throw the bums out” kind of election, they believe it will be Welch before Sanders. Duh.

Granted, the Welch people are seeing this as a worst-case scenario. And they’re banking on the fact the Vermont Republican Party remains associated with the loons who call WDEV’s Mark Johnson Show EVERY SINGLE DAY. Oh my, remember Paul Beaudry? What happened to him? Catamount got his tongue?

But I digress. Because I can.

In other news: A “Big Snarky Whatever” to Shay Totten of 7Daze for “winning” the best Vermont journalist award in his own newspapers’ survey of readers. Really? Personally, I think masturbation should be a private act.

But, speaking of the Shayster, thanks for the plug in your web dreams: Snarky Boy Gets What He Deserves: Credit Where Credit is Due.

That’s all for now. Send me your Snarky tips. Or else the world will all start to sound like a John Dillon VPR report.

Check the sides of your milk cartons, people, because Peter Welch’s spine has gone missing (again). Yep, Vermont’s congressman is slithering in the cesspool again. The man who has apparently never met an important issue that he can’t triangulate to the point of incoherence is, in fact, triangulating his debt-ceiling vote to the point of incoherence.

In case you missed WDEV’s Mark Johnson Show this morning, Welch’s explanation went something like this:

I am proud to have voted against this bill but I would have been just as proud to have voted in favor of it if my vote was needed to pass something that I am against.

Got that? Me neither.

Surprisingly – pleasantly, I may add – Mark Johnson wasn’t letting the congressional doublespeak slip by without a challenge. His voice gave the radio equivalent of my dog’s head cocked in confusion while Welch nearly-perfectly argued both sides of the vote.

I’m beginning to think that Welch sees his relationship with Vermont voters as some kind of Three Card Monte game: The truth is everywhere – but nowhere, too. Now give me your money/vote.

Remember, this is the same guy that the ubber-popular-amongst-political-wonks blog, Politico, recently called a nebbish. Or, more accurately, Politico called Welch “a nebbishy, soft-spoken liberal from Vermont.”

Ew.

But, then again, this does seem to be a state full of nebbishy, soft-spoken liberals. Seen the anti-war vigils lately?

So nebbish is good in Vermont. It’s a great election and re-election strategy. Just check your spine at the door, baby. Yeah, right next to Senator Leahy’s, please.

Wait. I just noticed that a few of you stepped away to look up the word “nebbish.”

According to Dictionary.com, a nebbish is: A person, esp. a man, who is pitifully ineffectual, timid, or submissive.

Like the glove fits the hand, Welch fits the nebbish.

Pitiful, indeed.