TWO SUBJECTS
Nobody Asked Me But:
It’s my trash, damn it! So why is it that the trash God has ruled that once I place my trash container in the street, next to the curb, it becomes public property. And I mean public. Any Tom, Dick or Harriet is free to poke amongst my refuge for a piece of garbage or bank account number.
I don’t really begrudge the bite for the hungry, and I carefully destroy personal information, but it is the principle of the thing. Once the city picks it up, I cheerfully relinquish ownership, but as long as it sits in front of our house, it’s my trash, damn it!
Our soon-to-be ex-president gave an interesting interview last week to the London Times. For the first time, he seemed to express some small regret for the way he handled the decision to go to war with Iraq. “I think that in retrospect I could have used a different tone, a different rhetoric.”
It doesn’t take much imagination to hear his hidden message. “I should not have listened so closely to Dick Cheney.”
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