Al Franken to run for Minn. Senate seat
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WalksWithChrist
Seeking God's Will
I will say this. Al Franken does have one thing working against him in the upcoming election:
Brains!!
Namely his own.
Brains!!
Namely his own.
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Franken is a great Minnesotan.
I think Garrison Keillor would be an excellent Minnesotan candidate, too.
Yes, Ann Coulter and Fox News will try to bury him--but would anyone who might vote for Franken watch Fox News anyway.
I think Garrison Keillor would be an excellent Minnesotan candidate, too.
Yes, Ann Coulter and Fox News will try to bury him--but would anyone who might vote for Franken watch Fox News anyway.
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SiobhanClancy
This Space For Rent
Al Franken running for the Senate? Say it isn't so! What are his qualifications,other than being a comedian,writer,and radio host? Obviously,what the Senate needs is more lawyers...can't have too many of them. I don't know what the world is coming to. The next thing you know,we'll have (gasp)actors running for office,and who knows what that might lead to?
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jayem
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Hey, a pop singer became a mayor, and later a congressman. (Sonny Bono)
An action film star, who never held any office, is now Governor of California
And a grade B movie actor became a California governor and President.
Why not a comic as a Senator?
An action film star, who never held any office, is now Governor of California
And a grade B movie actor became a California governor and President.
Why not a comic as a Senator?
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WalksWithChrist
Seeking God's Will
And don't forget he want to Harvard! Harvard doesn't exactly hand out degrees to slackers.
Yale does tho. lol
Why not indeed! We need a little levity in the Senate.
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He wouldn't be the first comedian to get to Congress.
Gopher from "The Love Boat" has been an Iowa Congressman for many years.
Gopher from "The Love Boat" has been an Iowa Congressman for many years.
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WalksWithChrist
Seeking God's Will
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rosenherman
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He hasn't been in congress since 1994. He's a radio personality now.
http://www.answers.com/topic/fred-grandy
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Texas Lynn
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Fun is always a good element in a political race and Franken will bring it.
For a whitebread place Minnesota seems to elect a lot of Jews-Boschwitz, Wellstone, and now Franken maybe. Wonder why that is?
For a whitebread place Minnesota seems to elect a lot of Jews-Boschwitz, Wellstone, and now Franken maybe. Wonder why that is?
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Texas Lynn
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O'Reilley made noises about challenging HRC for Senate from NY but he knew he'd have been humiliated so he demurred.
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gengwall
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In light of the general flow of the conversation, I thought I would resurrect a story I wrote last year when self-styled vampire Jonathon Sharkey was going to run for MN Govenor. I've updated it to include (briefly) our friend Al F.
***********************************
The Princess Café is one of those small town gathering places that has a little bit for everyone: great pot roast, great pie, great coffee, and great conversation, or lack thereof if it pleases you. For the Lager brothers, the coffee is the ticket. Every Saturday afternoon, they meet at The Princess to have coffee and reminisce. Of course, with Abdon and Chester Lager, reminiscing is mostly a personal journey. Rarely do they actually talk to each other except to say “good coffee” or make a passing comment on the weather. Oh, on an extreme occasion, they may strike up a passionate conversation about the Twins chances this year, or how the Vikings haven’t been any good since Bud Grant left. But most of the time, they just sip and stare off into space.
Today it is cold, being the middle of January in Minnesota, so the walk down memory lane moves inside to the counter. If it were July, they would join the rest of their generation out front on the bench. Being that there would be more people and some actually might be something other than Scandinavian or German, the conversation would be livelier. Not so today. Today the stoicism is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
The’ve been sitting wordless about half an hour when Abdon picks up the paper and scans the state news section. Adbon Lager has the quintessential rural Minnesota brogue. Certainly, when the writers of “Fargo” were looking for the perfect caricatured Minnesota accent, they knocked on Abdon’s door and asked to have a chat.
Chester is a bit more sophisticated, having actually spent some time living in the Twin cities. This, of course, makes him the “black sheep” of the family, but at least you can understand him.
An article in the paper has piqued Abdon’s interest. With a slight smile, he breaks the silence. “Say Chet, did’ja hear about dat der comedian dat’s running for Senator? You know, the von dat vent to dat fancy prep school in Hopkins?”
No response.
Abdon is undeterred: "It reminds me of last year, ya know, ven dat der vampire vas running for Governor up der in Princeton?”
“Ya sure.” Replies Chester brusquely. Politics is not Chester’s favorite subject. The family has never let him forget he voted for “the wrestler” a few years back. But Abdon can’t resist giving him the needle just a little bit. “So, do ya suppose ya might vote for the fellow?”
Chester bites. “Listen, I voted for the wrestler because the other two guys were dopes and grandma Essa really liked him when he was in the AWA. I mean, if Verne Gagne was running for Governor, you’d vote for him, wouldn’t ya?”
Chester scores a direct hit. Verne Gagne was the father of professional wrestling and an all around good guy. Abdon has no counter for this deft rebuttal and so he figures he better just stick with a more apolitical approach: “Ya know, I vonder. Ven he goes down to da pot luck at da church, vat do ya suppose he brings?”
“The comedian or the wrestler?!” Chester shoots back.
“No, da vampire for crying out loud.”
“Oh, ya.” Chester replies sheepishly. Realizing that his brother is offering an olive branch, he joins in. “Geez, I don’t know. I don’t suppose he brings lutefisk!”
Abdon is appalled: “Vell, no von brings lutefisk to a pot luck.”
“Oh sure they do.” Replies Chester. “Don’t you remember that ‘next day lutefisk hot dish’ Marian Wedin used to bring? And I swear her sister Maude used to slip some into her rice pudding just to get rid of it.”
Abdon changes the menu quickly before his stomach turns: “Oh, hey, I know. I bet he brings blood bread!”
Chester gets the joke, but is more caught up in the nostalgia. “Do you remember when grandma Lager used to make blood bread? Now, what was it they called it on Swede?””
Abdon’s never failing memory kicks in. “Palt!” He declares with a certain satisfaction.
“Ya, palt, that’s right.” Confirms Chester.
They both drift off into a fond remembrance of the dense, spongy, blood and flour concoction, which was fried and then covered with molasses or syrup. Of course, no one told them back then it was made of blood, and they were too naïve to ask.
Just when it seems that the silence will return for good, Abdon gets the conversation back on track. “Do ya ever go through Princeton anymore?”
“No, not since they put the bypass in.”
Abdon, apparently surviving the lutefisk discussion, continues. “Remember ven ve vould stop in to dat der restaurant in Princeton on da vay up nort.”
Chester is back with the program now. “Ya sure. What was the name of that place then?”
Abdon’s memory comes through again. “K-Bobs!”
Chester concurs. “You betcha, K-Bobs.”
Another pause threatens the discussion. Abdon saves the day once more. “So, ver do ya stop now on da vay up to da lake: da Blue Goose in Garrison?”
Chester, apparently, has finer tastes. “No, it’s not the same since the original burned down. I just go to the smorgasbord at Grand Casino now.”
The boys have just about run this one to the end of the line. They turn back to their coffee. Abdon offers a last thought on a future journey of reminiscence. “Ve should go up to Princeton some time and stop in to da K-Bobs for coffee.” He says.
Chester is agreeable. “You betcha!” He replies. Then, after a thoughtful pause he adds: “Say, with that vampire in town, I wonder if they got palt!”
***********************************
The Princess Café is one of those small town gathering places that has a little bit for everyone: great pot roast, great pie, great coffee, and great conversation, or lack thereof if it pleases you. For the Lager brothers, the coffee is the ticket. Every Saturday afternoon, they meet at The Princess to have coffee and reminisce. Of course, with Abdon and Chester Lager, reminiscing is mostly a personal journey. Rarely do they actually talk to each other except to say “good coffee” or make a passing comment on the weather. Oh, on an extreme occasion, they may strike up a passionate conversation about the Twins chances this year, or how the Vikings haven’t been any good since Bud Grant left. But most of the time, they just sip and stare off into space.
Today it is cold, being the middle of January in Minnesota, so the walk down memory lane moves inside to the counter. If it were July, they would join the rest of their generation out front on the bench. Being that there would be more people and some actually might be something other than Scandinavian or German, the conversation would be livelier. Not so today. Today the stoicism is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
The’ve been sitting wordless about half an hour when Abdon picks up the paper and scans the state news section. Adbon Lager has the quintessential rural Minnesota brogue. Certainly, when the writers of “Fargo” were looking for the perfect caricatured Minnesota accent, they knocked on Abdon’s door and asked to have a chat.
Chester is a bit more sophisticated, having actually spent some time living in the Twin cities. This, of course, makes him the “black sheep” of the family, but at least you can understand him.
An article in the paper has piqued Abdon’s interest. With a slight smile, he breaks the silence. “Say Chet, did’ja hear about dat der comedian dat’s running for Senator? You know, the von dat vent to dat fancy prep school in Hopkins?”
No response.
Abdon is undeterred: "It reminds me of last year, ya know, ven dat der vampire vas running for Governor up der in Princeton?”
“Ya sure.” Replies Chester brusquely. Politics is not Chester’s favorite subject. The family has never let him forget he voted for “the wrestler” a few years back. But Abdon can’t resist giving him the needle just a little bit. “So, do ya suppose ya might vote for the fellow?”
Chester bites. “Listen, I voted for the wrestler because the other two guys were dopes and grandma Essa really liked him when he was in the AWA. I mean, if Verne Gagne was running for Governor, you’d vote for him, wouldn’t ya?”
Chester scores a direct hit. Verne Gagne was the father of professional wrestling and an all around good guy. Abdon has no counter for this deft rebuttal and so he figures he better just stick with a more apolitical approach: “Ya know, I vonder. Ven he goes down to da pot luck at da church, vat do ya suppose he brings?”
“The comedian or the wrestler?!” Chester shoots back.
“No, da vampire for crying out loud.”
“Oh, ya.” Chester replies sheepishly. Realizing that his brother is offering an olive branch, he joins in. “Geez, I don’t know. I don’t suppose he brings lutefisk!”
Abdon is appalled: “Vell, no von brings lutefisk to a pot luck.”
“Oh sure they do.” Replies Chester. “Don’t you remember that ‘next day lutefisk hot dish’ Marian Wedin used to bring? And I swear her sister Maude used to slip some into her rice pudding just to get rid of it.”
Abdon changes the menu quickly before his stomach turns: “Oh, hey, I know. I bet he brings blood bread!”
Chester gets the joke, but is more caught up in the nostalgia. “Do you remember when grandma Lager used to make blood bread? Now, what was it they called it on Swede?””
Abdon’s never failing memory kicks in. “Palt!” He declares with a certain satisfaction.
“Ya, palt, that’s right.” Confirms Chester.
They both drift off into a fond remembrance of the dense, spongy, blood and flour concoction, which was fried and then covered with molasses or syrup. Of course, no one told them back then it was made of blood, and they were too naïve to ask.
Just when it seems that the silence will return for good, Abdon gets the conversation back on track. “Do ya ever go through Princeton anymore?”
“No, not since they put the bypass in.”
Abdon, apparently surviving the lutefisk discussion, continues. “Remember ven ve vould stop in to dat der restaurant in Princeton on da vay up nort.”
Chester is back with the program now. “Ya sure. What was the name of that place then?”
Abdon’s memory comes through again. “K-Bobs!”
Chester concurs. “You betcha, K-Bobs.”
Another pause threatens the discussion. Abdon saves the day once more. “So, ver do ya stop now on da vay up to da lake: da Blue Goose in Garrison?”
Chester, apparently, has finer tastes. “No, it’s not the same since the original burned down. I just go to the smorgasbord at Grand Casino now.”
The boys have just about run this one to the end of the line. They turn back to their coffee. Abdon offers a last thought on a future journey of reminiscence. “Ve should go up to Princeton some time and stop in to da K-Bobs for coffee.” He says.
Chester is agreeable. “You betcha!” He replies. Then, after a thoughtful pause he adds: “Say, with that vampire in town, I wonder if they got palt!”
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Texas Lynn
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Quijote
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And don't forget he want to Harvard! Harvard doesn't exactly hand out degrees to slackers.
Yale does tho. lol
Wait! are you implying that Pres. Bush is not a slacker???
He has an MBA from Harvard.
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