The "This Day in History" Poetry Challenge.

Remember Schoolhouse Rock? Sure you do. 

I'm just a bill,

Yes, I'm only a bill,

And I'm sitting here on Capital Hill…

Conjunction Junction, what's your function…?

And so many more. But this stuff hasn't been on Saturday morning TV since the Seventies, and let's face it, we're so much smarter than our children because of such civic-minded programming. 

Oh, yeah, and due to our ability to discern subtle social cues stymied by overuse of hand-held electronic devices. 

These days, your average eleven-year-old probably doesn't know that interjections show excitement or emotion. How many current fourth graders can rattle off "three six nine…twelve fifteen eighteen…twenty-one twenty-four twenty-seven…thirty"?

Bam, this one can.

Today's youth have no idea how magic a number three is or how a bill becomes a law, nor do they care. I've decided to propose a radical exercise for our overstimulated, standardized-test-driven youth— a way to transform them into sturdy, studly students of social studies. It's the "This Day in History" poetry challenge. 

Simply watch in wonder as your cherub drives his or her pick into that golden internet vein and pries out a wheelbarrow-full of raw historical nuggets. At that point, it's merely a matter of smelting everything into verse. Ouch, that's hot!

On March the Fourth Seventeen-Ninety-One,

Vermont at last became a state.

I've been told it was cold,

All the men were quite old,

And they smelled of intestinal freight.

On March the Fourth  Nineteen-Hundred-and-Eight,

New York students finally stopped getting cuffed.

Instead of a slap,

The belt or the strap,

The kids wore a Donald Trump tuft.

On March the Fourth Nineteen-and-Fifty-Two,

Ronnie Reagan and Nancy were hitched.

Did she just say "no"?

Oh, no, not that night, bro,

Okay, gross, the subject needs to be switched.

On March the Fourth Nineteen-and-Thirty-Three,

FDR first came onto the scene.

We had nothing to fear but fear itself,

Still not really sure what that means.

On March the Fourth Nineteen-and-Seventy-Four,

People Magazine first peeled its wrapper.

My mom read it first,

And usually at worst,

It ended up on the floor by the crapper.

On March the Fourth Nineteen-and-Ninety-Nine,

Lewinsky's book dished on old Bill.

She wore the same dress,

To talk to the press,

Best dry cleaner on Capital Hill.

See what I mean? It's easy, fun and your child will be a little less—well, stupid—than yesterday.

Maybe.

Why Obama Won the Debate.

I'm obviously in the minority, here.

Apparently, I can be counted among those groups whose memberships are painfully small:

Those who feel O.J. didn't do it.

People who decided that it was finally safe to open the sliding glass door and let the raccoons meet the kittens.

Parents who choose a daycare based on the size of the trampoline and love the teacher/student ratios provided by the halfway house next door.

You see, I believe Barack Obama won last night's debate. In fact, I didn't even think it was that close.

It's hardly a secret that I'm all in for this guy. I'd still vote for him if he'd walked onto the stage and become Barack Madonna greeting Mittany Spears with a one-tongue salute.

Frankly, I was taken aback by the overwhelming sentiment against the president's performance:

Score One For Romney—CNN.com

Debate Praise for Romney as Obama Is Faulted as Flat—New York Times

Presidential Race Reset, GOP and Some Democrats Say—Washington Post

Romney Obliterates Muslim Antichrist, Says He's Happy to Take the Job Off Jesus' Plate*—Fox News
*Among headlines considered but not chosen

I must have been in the bathroom when Romney walked into the party and passed around Kool-Aid beer bongs, because I just didn't spot a sizable advantage. My daughters and I agreed that, while far calmer than his challenger, the president stated his case using facts rather than platitudes.

In addition, we broke the contest into the following categories:

Appearance—In a nutshell, we felt that Romney looked like hell. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips cracked and dry. I'm not sure what looked worse, last night's pallor or the freakish facial dye job Mitt donned for an interview on Univision two weeks ago to appear simpatico with Latino voters.

President Obama looked more relaxed, yet with a considerably heavier dusting of gray than during his 2008 campaign. I'm thinking a lot of that may have transpired during that whole Bin Laden reality TV episode in the Situation Room.

Delivery—We surmised that Governor Romney may have received a special church dispensation and guzzled seven cups of Folger's Crystals prior to the debate; the guy was geeked up. Hopefully, the Secret Service had a nice stash of Handi Wipes to pass the president immediately afterward to squeegee his opponent's caviar-laced spittle from his face and neck.

Mitt interrupted and spoke over moderator Jim Lehrer so frequently, I thought Lehrer might cut his mike, walk up and punch Romney in the hair.

Message—This is the most disturbing reason why I'm stunned that so many believed Romney excelled last night. He provided no solutions for our foundering economy, other than lowering tax rates and eliminating deductions. How much lower and which deductions? Too complicated. You wouldn't understand.

He hates Obamacare, that's loud and clear, but what's his alternative? Romney's already stated that we've got a system in place for the uninsured, and that's provided by America's emergency rooms.

According to Romney, parents should be free to send their children to the best schools, not the ghetto schools that contain all the lazy teachers. Come on, folks. If you live in a bad neighborhood, just move to a good one. For Pete's sake, why must he spell everything out for you people?

It's true that President Obama didn't display the stress-induced energy that Mitt poured onto the stage like a sack of Jello. He also didn't capitalize in Romney's innumerable gaffes: the forty-seven percent comment, the flip-flops on women's and gay rights.

So, Mr. President, you've got two more chances. Please finish this bonehead off. As Mrs. Romney said, "Stop it. This is hard."

It's not going to get better...ever.

What do you think? Are they savvy observations or merely the rantings of a cranky, old man?

Sage or cynic?

I think he's spot on.

The great George Carlin owned many talents, the largest of which was his aptitude for jerking down the curtain to expose that man at the controls. His comments, scathing and occasionally offensive as they were, cut to the core of our behaviors and value systems, and he never shied from labeling a quacking, waddling bird as a duck.

Carlin's tirade against "the owners" in the attached clip proved prophetic this week, as Washington's state legislature, facing a five billion dollar budget shortfall, decided that nearly half should bleed from the arteries of our public education system. Teachers, many of whom already personally subsidize their classrooms' pencil, paper and parental needs, were rewarded with a two percent pay cut.

I can't speak for you, but not once have I heard a candidate, Republican or Democrat, pledge to gut education as part of his or her platform. Never has a rolled-up-shirt-sleeve-wearing-town-hall-touring talking head spouted off about how our educational system spoils and pampers our children and needs to be scaled back to accommodate more pressing needs.

So why, once they are elected, do they suddenly change course?

Time to circle right back to Mr. Carlin's thesis. Do the owners, the CEOs, of corporate America really want our children minimally educated, learning only what is necessary to become corporate cogs? And are our elected officials simply their toadies?

I don't think these top dogs really care, one way or another. As long as state budget deficits aren't passed along through higher marginal taxes, the kids can eat caviar or fish heads; doesn't matter. In a land where wealth is coveted and celebrated, no one dares question the morality of a chief executive who pulls down in one year an amount which would rescue a struggling school district.

According to Forbes.com, Lloyd Blankfein, head dude at Goldman Sachs Group, pulled down seventy-three million dollars in 2007. That could purchase a couple of red recess balls and maybe some sidewalk chalk.

Howard Schulz, infamous owner of Starbucks, somehow stuffed $98.6 million into his green apron and decided that, not only couldn't he afford to own the Seattle Supersonics any longer, he also couldn't swing sending a dozen caramel macchiatos down to my wife's high-poverty school ten miles south of Starbucks headquarters.

And Aubrey McClendon, grand poo bah at Chesapeake Energy, somehow found time to purchase the Seattle Suprsonics, massively pollute the environment and campaign against gay rights while still raking in $117 million.

Now that's elite-level multitasking.

As George Carlin so brutally intimated, "It's not going to get better..ever...so appreciate what you have."

I certainly do, because I'm afraid my kids won't have nearly as much.