Indian Food makes me sleepy. We went to the lovely and tasty Banjara for lunch to celebrate someone’s anniversary with the company (it doesn’t take much of an excuse for us to go out to lunch). The food is good there, but a well-informed member of our group touts a rival restaurant, which we will try out eventually: Minerva. I don’t know what it is about Indian food, but both times we’ve gone there, I’ve had the hardest time staying awake when I get back to work. I’m droopy and lethargic and ready for a nice long nap.
We stayed up for the Oscars last night. Since I really didn’t go out of my way to see the nominated films this year (of the Best Picture nominees, I saw The Two Towers, how sad is that?), I wasn’t invested this year. I thought Steve Martin did a fine job keeping things light, although his way-inside-the-industry shtick got a little old. I didn’t have a problem with any of the acceptance speeches, even Michael Moore’s. I thought his “When you’ve got the Pope and the Dixie Chicks against you, watch out” (or something like that) line was really funny even if it was drowned out by booing and the orchestra. Adrian Brody gave the speech of the night, and did a great job walking that line between pro-peace and anti-war.
I’ve been trying to come up with a reason I haven’t been more vocal about the war. I’ve posted before about the fact that I think it was inevitable, and how nothing I said would change it. I still feel that way to some extant. But, I also feel that with enough voices, things can change. I just can’t align myself with either group, the rapid anti-war folks or the rabid pro-ass-kicking troupe. I’m in the middle. People in the middle don’t protest. We sit quietly waiting for everything to end. I am pro-removing-Saddam. I am pro-Troops, how could I not be, having grown up as the son of one? I am anti-how-we-got-here. President Bush botched this whole thing miserably. His policies led us right here to war without the great international consensus we needed. He lied to us about Iraq’s involvement in September 11th, and used forged documents to make his case (whether or not he knew they were forged is still unknown, but still). Other than Britain and a handful of countries smaller than Mississippi, we’re all alone. We will be when this is all over too, unless Saddam decides to reveal those well-hidden naughty weapons.
I’m going to try not to talk about this anymore. I’m tired of the coverage on CNN. I don’t need to know what the 3rd Infantry is doing every five minutes. I don’t need to see live feeds of Baghdad twenty-four hours a day anymore. I know people are dying on both sides. I know horrible things are happening to people I never met. Wallowing in it will only make me feel more sick about it than I already am. It didn’t have to turn out this way. Now that it’s here, and there’s nothing I can do about it, there’s no point belaboring the obvious. Woulda, coulda, shoulda – it doesn’t matter. We’re here, no matter how we got here. I just hope it ends, and the folks over there who want to come home get to, and soon. I hope Saddam realizes this is a lost cause and gives himself up, either to eternity (as Eddie Izzard would say, “In a ditch, covered in petrol, on fire”) or to his nearest US Military Representative. I know it won’t happen, but let’s hope anyway.
I’m going to go bowling tonight and pretend that CNN doesn’t exist.