SHOW ME THE MONEY… According to Squid’s calendar, it’s a little bit early in the local political season for television ads. Squid thought the no-television-commercials-until-after-Labor-Day rule was almost as strict as the no-white-before-and-no-linen-after rule. But then again, Squid supposes raising about $1 million in cash allows a candidate to do whatever the hell he wants. Kinda like those really, really, rich ladies at the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance who wear those tacky huge hats with feathers and flowers and small rodents pinned on top.  

But back to the point, Squid’s talking about the Santa Maria Assemblyman, Abel Maldonado, who’s running against Democratic opponent Peg Pinard, a San Luis Obispo County supervisor, for Sen. Bruce McPherson’s soon-to-be-empty seat. Maldonado’s cool million makes Pinard’s measly $14,000 in cash look like Squid’s pocket change. Look for Abel Maldonado’s smiling babyface coming to a TV near you, and soon. The Republican candidate for the 15th District state Senate seat has been airing commercials that highlight his education record in the state Assembly, and show him with outgoing state Sen. McPherson. And Squid thinks Squid remembers hearing of a third television spot showing Maldonado rolling around in Benjamin’s. But that could be just rumor.

LAW AND ORDER… Sigh. Squid’s exhausted. Squid’s spending all of Squid’s time trying to keep Squid’s offspring in order. Blissful Sunday mornings flipping eight pancakes at a time have turned into screaming battles, wrestling matches, and hurled toys. Squid’s not going to point any tentacles here, but Squid, Jr. is making the whole Squid family miserable. Squid knows that the terrible twos can sometimes be delayed into the threes, but the terrible fours? Squid’s tried reasoning with Squid, Jr, which never works, not because Squid, Jr,. at four-and-a-half, can’t understand reasoning, but because Squid, Jr. is smarter than Squid.

Typical example: Squid: “Don’t scream at your sister.” Squid, Jr. “But you’re screaming at me. And you’re talking with your mouth full. And I want a horse and a swimming pool. You don’t love me.” Squid’s tried ignoring Squid, Jr.’s tantrums, to which Squid, Jr. says, “You’re bad. You don’t listen to me.” So Squid was relieved today, when shopping at Walgreen’s for back-to-school supplies for Squidette, Jr., to see a product perfectly designed with the four-year-old boy monster in mind. “The Time Out” chair, now marked down to only $4.99, features a constipated-looking boy on the box, sitting on his “Time Out Chair.” The letters “Time Out” are spelled out in cheerful, colorful alphabet letters, but the boy on the box looks like he knows he’s done bad. Squid’s not sure if there are instructions inside the box on how to exactly get young males to agree to sit in their Time Out Chair instead of breaking it over their sister’s head, but Squid’s sure it comes with tips. Maybe there’s an order form inside for plastic hand clamps and leg irons. Or a velcro attachment that Squid can apply to the back of Squid, Jr.’s shorts. (Squid’s kidding, Squid’s kidding!)