What the Hell Can We Talk About?

Due to my penchant for getting--let's say--a little excitable when talking politics; my wife has pretty much banned me from discussing it with most people generally and Democrats in particular. That is the main reason I started this blog, so that I can vent without creating any hostility. I still don't agree with her as I'm always right on any given subject and Democrats are always wrong. It's that simple. Russ Smith has found another topic that my wife may have to ban me from discussing:

Say, that was one heck of a thunderstorm the other night, eh?

It's come to a point in what some call the "national conversation" that the only safe topic to discuss is the weather. I've learned to keep my trap shut about politics with casual acquaintances, since even the most benign comment praising George W. Bush can unleash a tiring tirade about the Republican Party representing fascism, racism, McCarthyism, Nazism, imbecility, obesity and God (oops, sorry about that) knows what else.

...I suggested, in what seemed like small talk as the first strong sun of the spring burned my face, that Barry Bonds, despite his creepy media image, wasn't in the same league as Michael Jackson, Elliot Spitzer, O.J. Simpson or Sirhan Sirhan. My companion, while polite, gave an impromptu lecture on the sanctity of baseball statistics and that Bonds not only ought to be banned from the game, but his entire record of on-field accomplishments must, for the sake of the children, be erased. And don't even mention the Hall of Fame. Oddly enough, when the inferior Mark McGwire's name was brought up, he said that was a "sad" moment.

I guess we have to add the Terri Schiavo case to the list as well.