Bush, Leader of the Free World
On the porch, all the neighbors were gathering, looking forward to Schuyler's cocktails, good conversation, and a banquet by Max and Charlotte. The younger set quickly gathered inside, and we sat on the porch to enjoy Schuyler's Black Dogs, a cocktail made with Bacardi light rum and Martini & Rossi dry vermouth. For some neighbors, he made Virgin Marys, and we all settled down for a few minutes of normal farm and ranch chatter, and a few minutes of conversation about what was going on in the world today.

Alex joined A.J. in expressing his deep sorrow at the events unfolding in Pakistan, knowing that the earthquake had killed at least 54,000 people, all brothers and sisters of ours, if not necessarily by blood or faith. This terrible event stunned us all because of its horrific effect on all those people. Silently, we sipped our cocktails, and some of us probably stopped to silently pray for all those victims.

Suddenly, our sweet, quiet Elizabeth, Schuyler's wife, said something that helped us a bit. She believed that Pakistan would probably more speedily, and more efficiently, help all those horrendously suffering people, than our Right Reverend Born-again "christian" president Bushwacko will help the people in Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama. Bush, famously, was quite disgruntled at having to give up his vacation days at his dumpy little ranch in Krawford (with a K, as in Mein Kampf), to attend to some bunch of poor people who got, inconveniently for him, displaced.

What a Difference a Non-Born-Again Christian Makes
President Musharaf, on the other hand, was on site within minutes of hearing of the devastation brought on by that horrific earthquake. Perhaps within minutes, he was in control of the situation and began making world-wide appeals for humanitarian aid and assistance of all kinds. Probably, Jane said, the difference is that Musharaf is a leader, whereas Barbara Bush/Catherine the Great's namby-pamby son is not. He's just a little man (and I use the word man generously), interested only in keeping the über-rich rich, and the others even richer. The "little people," despite his in-drag visits to Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama, are a mere inconvenience he's famously reluctant to help.

Back Lot 6 of Giant Stahl Movie Studios
All the pasteboard façades of the mock New Orleans town are up, looking quite magnificent, though propped up from behind by 2 x 4's, no substance and certainly no real rooms behind the "windows." Naturally, such structures require no facilities, no plumbing, no water, no electricity: it's all for show and media cameras. Little amateur-built and inexpensive mock levees are appearing everywhere, at no cost to the ritzy-rich, since, after all, what do the lower classes really matter? Kinda goes with Bush's pre-Katrina cuts to Louisiana's infrastructure. No British or Dutch brains there planning for future disasters, hey?

On a realistic and somber note, Bob told us what Jack Kemp, former Housing and Urban Development Secretary under President George H.W. Bush said: "With all due respect to the president, things are not going to bubble up from the bottom [referring to Bush's desire that all aid begin at the local level]. There has to be some federal leadership here."

Senator Charles Grassley, surprise: a Republican, said: "So far, all we've done is shovel money out the door to meet the humanitarian needs. But, henceforth, we've got to be very careful how we spend the money, and that means we're going to need a plan and somebody in charge."

Now, Alex said, Grassley wouldn't have couched his words just like that, if he had any faith at all that our commandrix -in-chief had any of those abilities, now would, he, sweet pea?

It goes against Bush's grain to want to help the less fortunate, so any promises we've heard of real, substantial help we need to take with a grain of salt. In the end, those people will probably only get pasteboard façades, but hopefully the people in Pakistan will get real help, real assistance, and real housing.

Teenagers and the Dinner Gong
Gong the gong, whack the gong, sound the gong. We'll never, ever, know what to call what you do to a dinner gong to announce dinner. No matter, the teenagers fight for their turn to whack it and let us know dinner's ready.

Because the butler's pantry separates the kitchen from the dining room, we don't often get whiffs of what's cooking, so every evening there's a surprise waiting for us. Whoever first built this old stone farmhouse probably designed it to feed farm help in what we call the large dining room, and for feeding family in the small dining area in the great room. It all works out, in the 21st Century, perfectly for us, 14 couples who enjoy having dinner together nightly, adults and children.

Sidebar Judge?
After speaking of such horrible things as the hurricanes Katrina and Rita, and the horrendous earthquake in Pakistan, it might seem incongruous to change tone and go in to a magnificent multi-course dinner, but please remember that your readership of these chronicles actually serves as a fundraising mechanism to help myriad groups that help the less fortunate and those who want to help them. So, no guilt please; indulge: you're helping, greatly.

Charlotte and Max Serve Heaven on Plates
Soup? Oh, if that's what you want to call it. We thought it was just this side of perfection in a bowl: Rouille-spiced French Seafood Soup, accompanied by an Osborne Amontillado sherry. Because the Rouille is spicy, you might want to be more adventurous and try a dry red Côtes du Rhône, though as you know, we like to start, always, with a light white wine and progress slowly towards the heavier, red wines.

Max next served us a tabac de cuisine (dried porcini mushroom powder) sprinkled Tuna with Black Bean and Hoisin Sauce served with a California Meridian Pinot Noir on a bed of parsley white rice and just-wilted spinach with a drizzle of Balsamic vinegar.

Charlotte brought out small dollops of tamarind sorbet, which prepared us for a change in taste, Max's Sirloin Steak, medley of stir-fried wild mushrooms and Brussels sprouts with pearl onions in drawn butter. He and Charlotte brought a Concha y Toro Don Melchor Reserva Cabernet Sauvignon to serve with the steaks.

The dinner was so satisfying, and Max's steaks so splendid, we voted to forego dessert and join the teenagers in the great room, where we had our after-dinner coffee.

Winding Down
All the teenagers were happy to have their horses bathed yesterday, since probably they won't get another bath until next spring. Here on the farms and ranches we live on, there is always something that has to be done, but there is a sense that we also have time to catch our breath, as nothing is quite as pressing as during warmer weather. Maybe that gives us more time to think about world events, and need we say, our dinners?

Summary:
What a difference in leadership. Bush was reluctant to leave his ranch to pay attention to the devastation caused by Katrina; President Musharaf was inspecting the devastation in his country within minutes. One is a leader, the other a Mama's boy.