#163 Ultrasonic Pitbull

By now the furor over the appointment of Harriet what’s-her-face to the Supreme Court has died down. All the jokes have been made by the comics and pundits about appointing Michael Brown to the position instead and other references to top-level appointees in the current administration not necessarily having the credentials to stick their thumbs in their political plums. On such is not for me to comment. Though I have talked to any number of former attorneys who are now judges, who made the salient point that being a judge is a whole lot different from being an attorney. And perhaps a little experience in same is a good idea before being nominated to the highest judgeship in the land. I’m all for fresh blood and everything. But I still don’t want to be in a plane with a pilot on his first flight, or send my kid out with a brand new school bus driver.
However, if I were Harriet Meirs, I would question my boss’s characterization of me, when he nominated me to the highest office in the land, as a “pit bull in size six shoes.” Sexism with a capital S. I’d be thinking, is that a crack? Is he dissing on me? What’s that pit bull stuff? Is he implying I should get a new hairdo? Is he saying my smile looks like a growl? Is it a female dog reference? Cause I don’t take that stuff. “Biatch” is not in my vocabulary. Is it a slam on my sausage pack body type? And what is a female bull stuff anyhow? Shouldn’t that be cow, pit or otherwise? I got an idea, MISTER president. How about leaving out the whole dog and shoe size thing altogether. When you nominated John Roberts, did you call him a “rottweiler in size ten brogues?” Did you ever consider just using the word tenacious.
And then there was Katie Couric, fresh from her debacle as the lipstick-in-a-tool belt flibbertigibbet at habitat for humanity. This time she was having a breast exam on national TV. She was appropriately robed of course, and the cause was good; raising breast cancer awareness and demonstrating the importance of regular mammograms. Still, I think they didn’t need to actually show Katie’s exact personal mammogram. It’s not necessary for newspeople to reveal their intimate body parts, even in X-ray. We don’t all harbor some secret wish to see like Superman. And the image kind of looked like one of those ultrasound things anyhow. But in this instance instead of a fetus it was a very recognizable outline of a breast. I don’t know, but I’m not sure America is ready for a sonic boob. And I sure don’t want to open the door to Matt Lauer having a prostate exam on the air. That’s taking digital TV too far...
America ya gotta love it.