"The Help"...Everybody Deserves To Feel They "Is Important"

Recognizing the significant obstacles that the child was going to face in developing a healthy self-image, Aibileen, the fictitious maid in the current cinematic smash hit, The Help, would religiously tell to the equally fictitious toddler, Mae Mobley Leefolt, "You is kind, you is smart, you is impor-tant." Simple, earnest, incredibly insightful and profound words. These words struck me because they are similar to those that my wife and I have said to our eleven-year-old daughter, who was born with mild cerebral palsy, almost every day of her life, particularly as we drive her to and drop her off at school. "Have the sweetest heart, be the best minder, do your best, and be happy." Funny how we can find so much of ourselves, so many parallels to our own lives in the works of others, in their songs, and movies, and books. Speaking of books...


You know, I wish that I loved to read...I really, really do...but I don't. Except for surfing the internet for info that I want or need, reading a little history and politics here and there, and perusing some sports news specific to my now limited interests, I don't even like reading, much less love it, a trait that is very unlikely to change at this late stage of the game. Thank goodness for the talents and gifts of screen writers, directors, and actors. Their artistic adaptations and interpretations provide non-readers, like me, with the opportunity to experience the essence of many outstanding and imaginative stories that we would otherwise never take the time to enjoy. After seeing The Help with my wife last Saturday evening, I can tell you that, were I ever to work up the "want to" to read a book, I would love to read the 2009 novel by Kathryn Stockett (amazingly her first) that the movie is based upon. A few weeks ago, I had not even heard of this book. The first time that I did was in a Facebook post. My cousin's daughter (that would make her my cousin, as well, of course) remarked that she had seen this movie and that, while it was quite good, it left her very disturbed. Having never heard of it, I had no inkling as to why or how it had affected her so. Now, I know. 


The novel, screenplay, and movie take place against the backdrop of my childhood...in the white, middle class households of the South in the early 1960s (just as the Civil Rights movement was really beginning to percolate) that employed African-American women as domestic workers...no, as maids, or as many casually referred to them, as "the help" (thus, the title). In my house back growing up and even shared among the households of my extended family, we had our own Constantines, Aibileens, even our own Minny (hopefully, sans any "Eat my..." episodes). My second cousin, I realized after seeing the film, as a child of the North and a generation removed from this setting, had no real basis of experience to help her internalize the story line, so it makes great sense to me now how she might have been so troubled by what she saw portrayed in this movie. It especially makes sense, given the fact that seeing it left me profoundly afflicted, as well.


Central to the film's plot were the subtle, not so subtle, and overt words and actions, be they benignly or malevolently intended, of white Southerners during this "Leave it to Beaver" era that, over time, worked to strip away the self-esteem and minimize the humanity of these women who labored in their homes for ten hours a day, six days a week, cleaning, cooking meals, doing the laundry and ironing, and, in many instances, serving as surrogate mothers to their children. For someone of my generation, who grew up in this very setting, who remembers seeing the separate waiting rooms and water fountains for Blacks on the other end of the halls in the dentist's and doctor's offices, for someone who didn't attend school with a single person of color until the sixth grade and who remembers even a good and godly teacher calling that student "New Caledonia" when he addressed him (though I am not sure why or how referring to someone as an island in the South Pacific was a racial slur, I am certain that it was intended to be), watching as humiliation after humiliation, degradation upon degradation was heaped upon these fictional housekeepers, these characters playing thinking, feeling people with families, hopes, dreams, and problems of their own, was simultaneously poignant, heart rending, and just plain difficult to watch. As I did so, I returned to my childhood in my mind's eye, and I began to wonder and, perhaps, to agonize a bit. Was it ever like being in Hilly Holbrook's or Elizabeth Leefolt's households for the women who worked in my home? Did the members of my family ever make these ladies feel debased in any way? Even in the slightest, most unintended manner? Did I ever treat any of them in such a manner? God, I hoped not. 


Fifty years removed, my crusty, old memory sheds no light on these vexing questions. My knowledge of my parents and their hearts tells me that they absolutely did not, could not have. My knowledge of my own heart leads me to hope that I didn't, tells me that I couldn't have, tells me that, hope upon hope, I wouldn't have. But the historian in me tells me that I just can't be sure that I/we never did. You see, goodness in people knows no boundaries on the calendar of history. There were good people in eras past, there are good people now, and there will be good among the people that have yet to be. Regardless of their goodness (or other attributes to the contrary), however, we are all products, to some degree, of the times in which we live, of our experiences. Case in point, Abraham Lincoln. Mr. Lincoln, of course, is hailed as one of the heroes of our nation, beloved by black and white, for having the courage to emancipate the slaves and to lead our nation through its darkest internal struggle. His courage an character are to admired and emulated, right? But even Lincoln was a product of the his times. In his fourth debate with Stephen A. Douglas in his 1858 campaign to for the US Senate seat from state of Illinois, Lincoln said the following: "I will say then that I am not, nor ever have been in favor of bringing about in anyway the social and political equality of the white and black races – that I am not nor ever have been in favor of making voters or jurors of negroes, nor of qualifying them to hold office, nor to intermarry with white people; and I will say in addition to this that there is a physical difference between the white and black races which I believe will forever forbid the two races living together on terms of social and political equality. And in as much as they cannot so live, while they do remain together there must be the position of superior and inferior, and I as much as any other man am in favor of having the superior position assigned to the white race...". Did he do a complete one-eighty regarding his prejudices when he issued the Emancipation Proclamation a little over four years later? I don't think so. Did he conclude that slavery as institution was wrong and did he make the decision that proclaiming Southern slaves to be free was a strategic and expedient gambit to increase Northern support for the war, to stir the pot of hope among Southern slaves, and to plant the seeds of paranoia in Confederate minds? Certainly. But I really don't think that the profound racism expressed in those words that he spoke in 1858 was cleansed away by some mythical mantle of morality that accompanies the Oath of Office. So is it possible that the parents and children of my generation, regardless of  how pure of heart and intention, could have been guilty of at least some subtle mistreatment of those who most often toiled to make their houses homes, making them to feel as though they were second-class citizens? Yep, it's possible...very possible. But God, I hope not.


Like I said, this movie is discombobulating on so many levels to anyone with a conscience, but especially so to those who could see and feel snapshots of their own childhood in vignettes from the film, scenes so visceral in their familiarity. The movie made me sad. It made me reflective. Reflective about my words and actions, past and present, as well as about those of others. See, I don't understand how we purposefully hurt other people. Almost all of us have hurt or mistreated others in some way at some time, but it is hard to understand it when it is premeditated or calculated. Every iota of hurt that I have ever caused has made my heart hurt. And I especially don't understand how people can be violent towards others for any reason other than self-defense. I mean attacking someone simply because they pull for a different sports team, really? Seriously? I guess the positive thing about having your psychological and emotional cage rattled is that sometimes it can change your behaviors and your perspective. The experience of seeing this movie left me more determined to treat the people that I come into contact with in this life civilly, to treat them with respect and dignity. And I'm not talking about the people that it is easiest to treat that way. No, I'm talking about those that I come into contact with casually, that answer my customer service calls on the phone (I was so nice to that lady that I could not understand that tried to help me with a phone issue yesterday!), that wait on me in the restaurant, that I pass on the street, even those that, through their own words and actions, don't even necessarily seem to deserve it or that don't respond to me in kind. While I've never been unkind to any of these groups that I am aware of, I will make an extra special endeavor to treat illegal aliens, the Chinese, and Democrats with the utmost respect and civility (Disclaimer: this does not mean, however, that I will concede that is okay to break the law, or to try to dominate my country, or that I will agree with a liberal point of view). Seeing The Help has reinforced to me that all of God's children deserve to be treated as though, to feel as though they "is impor-tant."

This week, I added this to her verbal fare on the way to school in the morning, "You is kind, you is smart, you is impor-tant...". As the ancient Chinese proverb (aren't they all?) states, so very often art merely imitates life...and in this case, vice versa. Why don't you go out today make someone feel important?

Don't Know 'Bout You, But China Scares the Shih T(zu) Out of Me

Anyone even casually acquainted with me knows that one of my passions in life is Duke basketball (men's, of course). I mean, come on, the Duke logo is my Facebook profile pic for the better part of each winter. Well, you can imagine my delight this past week, as the seemingly endless, summertime, "no sports worth watching" doldrums (love baseball but can't watch it on TV...more spitting and genitalia adjusting than sport-specific actions during the three hours invested in viewing a game) wound down toward college football season, when ESPNU televised three of the Blue Devils' four-game "friendship" tour of Asia (I laughed at the conclusion of the third Chinese game when the announcer said, "Well, that concludes Duke's tour of Asia...join us as the Blue Devils travel to the United Arab Emirates for a game at 1:30 PM on Thursday"...uh-h-h-h...dude, the UAE is in Asia). 


As I mentioned in my last post analyzing Duke's sweep of its three game set with China's junior national team, I was struck by an image of the two teams side by side at mid-court during a pre-game photo opp...those Chinese guys were freakin' huge! I mean, Duke has one of the biggest teams that we've had in years, with six players taller than 6'8", but it appeared to me that man for man, position by position the Chinese were taller, longer, bigger, thicker. And as the games themselves unfolded, even though my Dukies prevailed, of course, (whenever my wife asks if Duke won, my response is always, "We played?"), the games were very, very hard fought and competitive, at times more like football in their physical nature than hoops. In the sport of basketball, it seems evident that, in terms of physicality and skill, the Chinese, as well as much of the rest of the world as evidenced by Lithuania's victory over the USA in this summer's World University Games and by the increasingly high numbers of foreign players drafted by NBA teams over their U.S. collegiate counterparts, have closed the competition gap. In other words, the bloom is off the world's awe of us, as well as off our dominance of the game. Frankly, it also occurred to me while watching the often rugged first contest, this days before the brouhaha that erupted between Georgetown, on its own apparently, "not so much friendship" tour, and a Chinese club team, that if a fight were to break out the good guys (the Dukies, of course) might be in quite a pickle. From the video that I saw of the Georgetown brawl, the Hoyas seemed to be getting the worst of it, even before some chopstick-wielding, water bottle throwing Chinese fans got involved in the melee.


Anyway, to my point...watching and then reflecting upon China's obvious and somewhat troubling ascension in basketball served as a segue into my musing about the entire myriad of misgivings that I have about the "Big Red Machine" of modern geopolitics,  about how much it has progressed from its humble, "radish communist" origins of the early century past, about its present position upon the greater world stage, and about its plans and aspirations for the future. As I did so, I began to reflect upon that which I already knew about China, as well as upon the numerous and often odious reports that I have heard and read about the Ginko Pinkos (I realize this is neither PC nor in compliance with "apology diplomacy", but then again, neither am I) in the news media in recent months and weeks.


Here's what I know. China has, by far, the largest population in the world, currently estimated at just a smidgen (as billions go) under seven billion people. Even with the globe's third largest population (keep in mind, old folks like me, that the USSR has been bye-bye for some time now, so we've bumped up in the rankings), the United States' sum stands at a relatively paltry 312 million. Now, even with my very limited mathematical skills, I can cipher that the Red Chinese outnumber us by about 22 to 1. History has been unkind to those facing these kinds of odds. While the Greeks certainly did themselves proud for a few days versus incredible odds at the Battle of Thermopylae, they ultimately were slaughtered. The South stretched the Civil War out for four years before succumbing to a 4 to 1 disadvantage (that is, after eliminating Southern slaves from the equation). In other words, in war, if it ever came to that with China, God forbid, this kind of disparity in human resources bodes poorly for those on the "1" side of such a ratio. Besides, Americans should recall, but probably don't, that while the "Chosin Few" valiantly fought their way through the bugle blowing, gong sounding Chinese throngs that encircled them as they pushed toward the Yalu River in late 1950 they were largely fighting for their survival and were subsequently evacuated as the entirety of UN (largely US) forces were completely driven from North Korea by the "yellow horde" early in the Korean War. Like I said, them's tough odds.


Other attributes of the no longer "sleeping dragon" serve as harbingers of our need for increased angst regarding China and its aspirations and goals for the future. In addition to its massive populus, China is also the third largest nation in the world in land area, in a virtual tie with the US for that slot, and like us is rich in natural resources. In addition, this behemoth of both natural and human resource riches is centrally managed by the second longest functioning Communist regime in existence. While communism admittedly has a poor track record of producing the kind of prosperity that leads to high rankings in standard of living for its practitioners, recent historical exemplars, such as the phoenix-like rise from the ashes of WWI and shackles of Versailles by Germany under Nazism and the relatively meteoric ascension from feudalism by both the former Soviet Union and post WW II China, clearly suggest that totalitarianism and centralization can be effective instruments for driving the rapid development of general economic, military, and geopolitical power. Unfortunately, totalitarianism also has a rather loathsome and unpropitious track record for meting out oppression, brutality, and terror upon its own people. In my mind, if a government can butcher its own with such wanton disregard and violence, it is wicked scary to imagine how they would treat foreigners who might obstruct the path to its achieving national and cultural greatness. What about the Chinese people themselves? I believe that the Chinese, like people everywhere, are a people of inherent goodness, possessing hopes and dreams for personal and family happiness and well-being. However, they are also a proud people, a people whose collective memory still aches from the humiliation of a century and a half of foreign intervention, invasion, and usurpation. Their government perpetuates the cumulative memory of this national shame by instilling in school children a rabid love of Chinese sovereignty and by indoctrinating them with a modernized spirit of the Boxers, the xenophobic, ultra-nationalist Chinese cult of the late 19th century which hated and rose up against foreign encroachment and colonialism in the motherland. In terms of their own aspirations for their nation, the Chinese people, much like Americans of the past, I am afraid, believe in striving for excellence. Their drive and determination might be well characterized through a couple of popular Confucianisms (while the Communists originally attempted to eradicate most traditional and competing dogma, they have selectively borrowed from Confucius for propaganda purposes in recent years, much the same as antebellum Southerners drew upon biblical scriptures to rationalize the institution of slavery): "It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop" and "Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart." It would seem that, with this kind of  impetus, China is moving steadily, as does the ancient Huang He toward the Yellow Sea, toward reaching its destiny among the powers of the world.


Now, put aside for a moment, if you will, the fact that China holds about ten percent of the our national debt, making it our largest foreign creditor, a chilling actuality that candidate Obama lamented over while criticizing and blaming George Bush when he still was president in 2008 and that ironically served as a key bone of contention and concern in the recent debt ceiling debate which he helped to create (and then went largely MIA on during its climax). What other recent actions, developments, and events should serve as red flags regarding the looming threat to us posed by the Middle Kingdom? Try this little experiment, make a t-chart and then go around your house writing down household items in the left-hand column and the country where they were manufactured on the right. You will quickly understand where I am going with this. China's economy grew by a robust 10.3% last year while our own staggered along at comparatively anemic 2.83 % during 2010. Given that about 10% of all the world's consumers are Chinese, this is not a very reassuring trend in terms of our maintaining our status as the world's chief economic power. Another flare?...rare earth minerals. What the hell are those you might say? While I am not scientifically inclined either, I know that they are hard to mine elements that are critical components of an increasing number of the technological thingies that we use in everyday life. Well, China produces about 95 % of the world's rare earth minerals, and over the last few years, it has reduced exports of these precious and important elements by 40%, virtually holding these metals hostage in the face of a growing demand for them by the rest of the world. Need more? Back in May, the Chinese, working in cahoots with our friends, the Pakistanis, accessed our formerly secret and incredibly expensive stealth helicopter technology that was utilized, but unfortunately not completely destroyed, in the successful US raid which culminated in the assassination of Usama Bin Laden. As recently as this month, the "Blue Army," China's self-admitted, elite "cyber warfare" force suspected of repeated encroachments into computer networks around the world, including our own, in recent years, was accused of a recent series of hacks into the systems of over seventy organizations and governments, including that of the United Nations. That ain't all. Also earlier this month, the Chinese announced that their very first aircraft carrier was beginning sea trials, foreshadowing, perhaps, an all-out Chinese push to minimize, negate, and perhaps completely reverse one of the strategic, military advantages that the U.S. has held over the Chinese, its naval and air superiority, a move that could provide China with a gambit to eventually squeeze America out of its Far East presence altogether. And finally? The last straw? Just last week there was that whole playing the Blue Devils way too close in basketball thing...now that just hits too close to home!!!


Taken together, all of this leads me to the following conclusions. The Chinese want to excel...at everything. The Chinese want to dominate...everything and everyone...including us. In fact, the Chinese want to be us...not us necessarily, but where we have been, where we are...and perhaps more. Methinks that controversial commercial produced by the Citizens Against Government Waste in which a Chinese professor a few years down the road makes his students laugh when, regarding the decline of the US and other past empires in history, he observed, " "Of course, we owned most of their debt, so now they work for us" is probably not so far from reality. I think that the Chines are NOT our friends, and unfortunately, that guns rather than butter may eventually wind up being the unavoidable, bitter, and, perhaps, deadly tonic to settle our stomachs. The scary part of that proposition is that, given China's overwhelming numerical superiority and massive potential for economic growth, power, and influence (not to discount the historically poor track record of command economics over the long haul) MAD, or mutually assured destruction due to our both possessing nuclear arms, may not provide the deterrent to conflict with the Chinese that it did during the Cold War with the Soviet Union.


In my view, we face but a couple of choices regarding the Chinese. Choice one? Compete and compete hard at every turn and in every facet with the Chinese, as though our very national sovereignty and existence depends upon it, because it well may. I think, for instance, that our taking steps backwards militarily, whether it be negotiating nuclear arms agreements with the Russians or allowing the "Debt Dozen" to gut our military spending, is sheer folly, if not genocide (our own). I think that we must initiate massive "Made in America" initiatives to bring manufacturing and jobs back home. Our other course of action is to do nothing, to stick our heads in the sand, to continue to bow in deference to their leaders, and to continue to borrow willy-nilly from their coffers in effort to feed our own apparently insatiable susceptibility for spending.


If we choose this latter path of inaction, if we choose to remain complacent in the face of their scary growth and malevolent machinations, if we fall deeper into debt period, and especially to the Chinese, and if grow even softer than we have become already, then I fear that President Obama will get his wish...we will become just like the Europeans, geopolitical "has beens" and "wannabes", mere shells of our former great and proud selves. We will, as I have postulated previously, become China's lap dog, become like little Shih Tzus drooling upon the knees of the giant of the Far East, the superpower of the twenty-first century and beyond. Now, don't get me wrong...Shih Tsus are cute and all, but I don't want to be one. If I were a dog, if I could choose to be any dog I want, I would never choose to be anyone's neurotic, yapping, prissy little lap dog...not me...I prefer to be the big dog...and like that ancient Chinese proverb (just kidding) says,"You can run with the big dogs, or sit on the porch (or lap) and bark"...calling all Americans!..like we Georgia fans like to say, "Let the big dog eat"...'cause we don't speak wanna' speak no "whine-ese" here...Woof!...

Duke vs. China? The Difference was in the ‘D’

Adorning opposite halves of the courts serving as stages for Duke’s “friendship” series against the Chinese junior national team this past week were two icons that seemed strange bedfellows: the flag of the People’s Republic of China and the signature ‘D’ logo of Duke University athletics. While the contrasting images portrayed an odd and discombobulating amalgam of totalitarianism and academic freedom, they symbolized the spirit of competition, the global appeal that basketball has cultivated in recent decades, and the intermingling of the diverse cultures in Duke’s shiny new Fuqua campus in suburban Shanghai, China.

Pre-game photo opportunities revealed another interesting contrast. When the squads posed together for photographers, the Chinese aggregation appeared the taller and thicker of the clubs, despite their proximate ages. This apparent, sport-specific advantage, when combined with home court, home cooking (no allusion to officiating), and the absence of NCAA CARA (countable athletic related activity) rules in China, seemed to bode poorly for the jet-lagged sightseers from Durham. Yet, when the  final buzzer sounded ending the three-game set Monday, Duke left the Beijing with a hard fought, fisticuffs free sweep of their impressive Chinese opponents.

How? The Devils’ vaunted three-point attack? Relentless assaults on China’s rim by Devil guards driving off of ball screens? Duke’s reliance upon Coach Wooden’s legendary UCLA cut as the staple entry into their offense?  Or a Duke front court finally rising to meet its potential? No, none of these was the deciding factor. To the trained eyes of discerning Duke devotees, the difference was clear. It was that ‘D’ – defense, that is. Clearly frustrated at times by their acculturation to a cleaner, more tightly (and perhaps less biased) officiated style of play, Krzyzewski’s globetrotting charges quickly adapted. Their on-ball defense appeared stingier. Hedges on ball screens were decisive and aggressive. Help defense repelled attacks on the lane and pestered entries into China’s skilled, young posts, while rotations and recoveries from help seemed in sync for a young team with but ten practices under its belt. Even special situation defense sparkled, evidenced by a consecutive sideline overplays resulting in Duke thefts and thunderous dunks. The formula for this surprising, summertime defensive dominance?  A sublime fusion of Coach K’s mastery, defensive tradition, the experience and savvy of veteran players, youth and enthusiasm seeking to impress, and the hustle and competitiveness that derives from team depth.

In recent years, offense has garnered most of the spotlight when talk turns to Duke hoops. Be reminded, however, that ‘K’ earned his spurs, as well as the lion’s share of his 900 victories, by teaching, preaching, and demanding excellence within his “team” man-to-man defensive philosophy. The “fist”, he observes, is stronger than its individual fingers.  It’s easy to forget that Duke’s most recent championship was  built upon the back of a stingy, sagging team defense anchored by  Zubek and Thomas, rather than upon the lethal scoring of the three S’s. Yep, the Duke difference is still in the ‘D.’

Spend, Tax, and Blame

I am Barak

I am Barak Hussein

Ask me again, and I’ll tell you the same

Do you like American exceptionalism and prosperity, Barak Hussein?

I do not like them, I’m Barak Hussein

I do not like those things, I like to spend, tax, and blame

Would you like them here or there?

I would not like them here or there

I would not like them anywhere

I do not like American exceptionalism and prosperity, I like to spend, tax, and blame

I do not like them, I’m Barak Hussein

Would you like them better if you could see them? Or would you like it better if we were Europeans?

I would not like them even if I could see them, and, yes, I would like it better if we were Europeans

I do not like American exceptionalism and prosperity

I do not like them; I like to spend, tax, and blame

I do not like them, I am Barak Hussein

Would you like them if we taxed our riches, would you like them if we taxed those “fat cat” sons of bitches?

Not even if we taxed it’s wealth

And in so doing, sapped the economy’s health

Not even if we taxed those Wall Street fat cats

And place a levy their evil corporate jets

I do not like American exceptionalism and prosperity, I like to spend, tax, and blame

I do not like them, I’m Barak Hussein

Would you, could you

Be non-partisan and lead?

And like the rest of us

Red, white, and blue bleed?

I would not, could not

Be non-partisan and lead

Patriotism is really tired and old

Besides, getting re-elected is my primary goal

You might like them

You might see

You might like them

If you partied with tea!

No…no…no…no tea for me

I would not, could not party with tea

I just don’t like those things, so just let me be!

I do not like them, they’re so passe

I do not like them, so yesterday

I do not like them, prefer shared sacrifice

I do not like them, playing Robin Hood is nice

I do not like them, prefer wealth redistribution

I do not like them, don’t you just love my elocution?

Would you like them if socialists we became?

Would you like it if the whole world perceived us as really lame?

I would not, could not, even if we were commies

I will not like them, I’d rather blame tsunamis

I will not like them, I’ll just make excuses for us all

I will not like them, and while I'm at it play, some golf and basketball

I will not like them, I’ll make you buy healthcare for the rest of your life

I will not like them, And with my "civil discourse" stir more partisan strife

I will not like them here, more government is the answer

I will not like them anywhere, this damn Tea Party is a cancer

I do not like American exceptionalism and prosperity, I’m Barak Hussein

I do not like them, I prefer to spend, tax, and blame

You do not like them

So you say

Try them! Try them!

And you just may

Try them and you may, I say

If you would only let me be to enjoy the Vineyard and my time to tee!

Come on, just try them and you will see.

No! No! No!

I’d rather continue on the apology tour

And to foreign leaders take my bow de jour

I’d rather strive for double digit unemployment

And blame George Bush just for enjoyment

I think what's needed is another big stimulus

And while I'm at it, I'll throw small business under the bus

Shovel ready projects, now they're the real solution

As long as the all the work is done by the union

And I'll just grant illegals backdoor amnesty

And allow them to sap our services for free

And I will spend…uh, I mean continue to make "investments"

Skyrocket the debt, and upon the rich, levy new assessments

And I will blame everyone on the right as far as the eye can see

I’ll blame everyone and everything but l’il ol’ teflon me

Gee, wish Pelosi, Reed, and the Donks were still doing all the decidin’

Then my biggest worry would be another gaff by Joe Biden

Instead, those conservative folks are blaming me for this credit downgrade

And, man, I wish my that my teleprompter dependency could be downplayed.

I do not like American exceptionalism and properity, you see

Another term of hope and change should ruin 'em, drown them in tea

I like to spend, tax, and blame, don't you just love my Progressive sham

Love big government, regulation, and adult conversations, Barak Hussein I am.

Happy Birthday, Pop: I Miss You

Dear Daddy,
    Today, you would have been eighty-six years old had you not left us, far too soon, a little over two years ago now. From the time we were small until Mama passed away thirteen months before you, you always chose, as fathers often do (especially fathers of yours, the Greatest Generation), to play second fiddle, to be the supporting cast, to stay one step out of the limelight in our family circus. You were contented, or at least you always seemed to be, with Mama being the star, the center of our attention, the hub of our family's culture and activities. On those rare occasions, when you would answer the phone whenever we called in years after we had all left the nest, you would greet us very briefly and even a little uncomfortably before saying, "Hang on, let me let you speak to your Mama," as though you assumed that we really only called to talk to her anyway. You were always humble, often retiring, and sometimes even servile in your demeanor. But all along, you were our anchor, her rock, and all the while you were an unwilling star awaiting your stage. Once Mama left us, you seized center stage, perhaps if only to fill the void in your heart that she had left behind, and you had your time to shine as the family focal point. It was a most blessed thirteen months, and as I said, your shining moment ended far too soon for the four of us. We came to know you and love you in an even deeper way during those few, precious months than we had during the previous decades.
     During these past two years since you left to be with Mama, I have missed you terribly. While I always respected and looked up to you, your stature has grown exponentially in the pages of my memory. I realize more and more, with the passage of each day, what a very, very special man and father that you were. Over the years, Mama did indeed dominate my bond to you as parents, and I will always cherish the very deep, unqualified, love that we shared over the fifty years that I had her in my life. But those thirteen final months of your life, talking to you on the phone almost nightly, spending time together, just the two of us, with you as the marquee attraction, those few months are seared indelibly on my heart and in my mind. While I dearly cherish that time and cling to it, I feel regretful that there wasn't more before you left and that I didn't seize more time to be with you over the years. Hardly a day passes that I don't think of you, miss you, want for you, and wish that I could talk to you again. Happy Birthday, Daddy...you were always...and remain to this day...my hero. I love you, Pop.

Me

The Silver Lining of 'Tweenior-hood: It's Okay to be a Musty, Old Gray Cloud After All

Okay, so I've been pondering what the positive parts of this human fermentation process could possibly be for a few days now, and I think I've finally figured them out...I 'P' better...that's right...I 'P" better...NO, NO, NO, I don't mean that I "pee" better...god, get your mind out of the gutter, people!!! I mean, of course, I don't "pee" better. I'm a fifty-four year old man, for goodness sake...we don't "pee" as good as we used to...more often, maybe (several times a night, at least), but DEFINITELY NOT BETTER!!! The things that I'm talking about that have improved with age are my personal P's...things like my Priorities...my Patience...my Prudence...my Passions... my Pragmatism...and even my Peculiarities...in all of these aspects of my life, it turns out that time has been my friend rather than my foe.

When I was a young man, like so many, I had my priorities all wrong. I was laser-focused on career goals. More than anything else in the world, I wanted to become a head basketball coach. I have always loved me some basketball, and I still do, but not in the same way, and not nearly to the same degree. I mean I have actually sat on the toilet diagramming basketball offenses and defenses (remember that Reader's Digest vocabulary?)...that's right...Xs and Os, and there she blows!!! Now, that's being serious about your sport...that's commitment...that's really working to become an expert on the game, Coach Richt...maybe you try that in the off-season. To this day, I still find stuff in boxes, in old file folders at work that have court diagrams filled with Xs, Os, and arrows moving them to and fro'. When I reflect on the all of those years, all that time spent thinking about a game, all of those man hours spent on planning and carrying out practices, the waiting, the preparation, the emotional and intellectual energy expended on game days, the hundreds, maybe even thousands of hours spent riding on cramped cheese wagons (school buses), those precious summer days spent doing kids' camps and on the road at team camps, I can't help but wonder about what I sacrificed, what I missed out on, what the trade-offs may have been. Yes, I had some amazing experiences and met some incredible people that I will always treasure, but I know that I could never go back to those times. Today, my laser-focus is on my marriage, on my family, on my home, on all of the vital relationships and simple pleasures that really enrich and define one's life. I see work as a means to an end, but not an end in itself. I have learned with time not to place a premium on material things...after all, when it's all said and done, it's just stuff. Having had the bittersweet experience of being with both of my parents in their last days and dying moments, it struck me that, in the end, all that will really matter when we take our last breath is the love of the people that we love. While I don't have vivid memories of lots of things in life, I will always remember the words that my daddy spoke upon learning that he was probably spending his last living day there in that hospital bed in Macon. He said to his children who were lovingly and sadly watching him ready to slip away, "Well, y'all have been a good family...take care of yourselves." Tearing up over two years later as I share his words with you, I can say, yep, that heart-rending experience and those tender words helped to crystallize for me what is really important in my life.

They say that patience is a virtue. Well, it's not a young person's virtue...that's for certain. While I realize that this is no revelation, no radical newsflash, young people, including young adults (and even some way past young) want every thing now. Like so many, I wanted everything before I could afford it. I didn't want to sit through things and stand in lines that would take to long. I wanted each work week to fly by so that we could get on with the next weekend, which I then proceeded to rush through. Today, as the wheels of the rat race of life whir by, I find myself wanting things to slow down. I find myself wanting to savor every moment of every mundane experience (my wife laughs at how I allow good beer to roll around my tongue) that I would have previously been in too big a hurry to enjoy. With my ten year-old daughter, for instance, I find myself so patient that I am perhaps, at times, enabling (and if you knew me, you would know how it pains me to say use that term in reference to myself) of responses and behaviors that, in the past, would have caused me to say to myself upon hearing, witnessing, or discovering her childhood transgressions, "Lord, please save this child, 'cause I pity the fool!!!" Lately, I cannot tell you how how often I look at her and silently plead, "Slow down, child, don't get so big so fast," and then tear up thinking of how badly I will miss her when she is gone. Similarly, in my work, I have always been very structured and very demanding, to the point of intolerance, when it came to how student's conducted themselves in my class. Well, I can't lie and tell you that it has changed much...because it hasn't. But now, I take everything pretty much in stride as I go about putting out the daily fires that one has to put out in my profession, and I measure and temper my words in a way that would have been foreign to the somewhat Vesuvian, drill sergeant demeanor of my earlier years (Student: "Coach, did you used to be in the army?" Me (deadpan): "No, but I played a harsh, military dictator on TV..."). Yes, patience is a virtue...it is a virtue that evolves within us with the passage of time, the acquisition of experience and wisdom, and with the realization that our days on this earth are numbered (for people my age, life is likely at least 2/3 over...and that's if you're really lucky). Indeed, young eyes are sharp and can see like eagles, but when it comes to tomorrow, they most often can't see beyond the noses on their faces. Late middle-aged me? As I bemoaned in an earlier post, I can't see doodly squat, like any of these words that I'm two-finger tapping out in front of me, but I can see that tomorrow and time in general is precious and that I had best slow down and take time to smell the bouquet of this one life (as Sally Fields so sagely reminds us in her Boniva commercials) that I have that is ever so rapidly slipping by.

On prudence? I tell my daughter all the time, largely to help her understand the thoughtless words and actions of her mean little peers (little girls are just mean) but also because it is a universal truth that is an integral part of my world view, that people do stupid stuff all the time. I don't know why they do...they just do. I guess because...well, they're people.  Let me establish this up front and fast, I have been no exception to this rule. I have done more than my share of stupid stuff in life. Really stupid stuff. Most of it was victimless, some of it hurt others, and, fortunately, none of it got me into any real trouble. For the hurt I may have caused, I am regretful. For escaping any really serious consequences for my stupidity, I am eternally thankful. In my profession, as I imagine is true in many others, the young guns view themselves as special and are often viewed as such by those who recruited and hired them. They have all the answers. And sure, youth can infuse any endeavor with new ideas and creativity and can imbue a once-tired school or organization with excitement, energy, and verve. However, reflecting back on some of the stupid things that I did and said as a young teacher (as well as what I have seen and heard over the years), I can say sans reticence that there is no substitute for the prudence that comes with age and experience. Knowing what to do, what to say, and how to act, based upon countless successes, failures, and mistakes over the course of a career or a lifetime, is priceless. As I move through the various facets of my life today, carrying out the diverse duties and responsibilities that each entails, I can honestly say that wisdom is an acquired trait that I treasure dearly and that, over time, has helped me to minimize the amount of stupid stuff that I do today...and boy, has that ever made life easier, simpler, and less painful.

Passion is a broad term that describes the myriad of strong emotions that we, as human beings, experience as we go through our daily lives. When we are young, passion is perhaps our primary impetus, often dominating us and dictating our every thought, action, and decision. We are driven by the uncontrollable intensity of it. But I'm not sure that in our youth we really understand, appreciate, and embrace the breadth and depth of the meanings, nuances, manifestations, and effects of our ardor. As our savoir vivre evolves, we discover and master the finer points of passion. Today, the love that I have for my wife, for instance, has grown in geometric proportion from its origins. While she remains smoking hot to this day, sixteen plus years removed from first being smitten by her beauty, I love the woman that she has become, the person that she has become, the mother that she has become,  and the best friend that she is and that makes my life complete. Similarly, I love my youngest daughter in a way that I don't know was even possible for me twenty-five years ago. I love my oldest daughter, who does not love me, with all of my heart, and I accept and embrace my blame and responsibility for the existing estrangement. Having lost my parents, my brother and my sisters, their children and children's children, have become dearer to me now than ever before. The friends that I have made, even those whose connection to me lies largely in my past and may now be based solely upon sporadic exchanges on social media, are a priceless part of the interpersonal web that helps to define my life and to make it rich. The bottom line is that I love harder, more deeply, and more completely than when I was a young man, and the compassion and empathy that I feel for others far supersedes the egocentrism of the earlier, more shallow editions of me.

According to the latest versions of the Viagra commercials (not the one's with the catchy little "Viva Viagra" ditty), in addition to needing a little romantic assistance now and again (now NOT me, mind you...oh, hell no), I have arrived  at the age of "getting things done." You know, that dang commercial is right. Today, I am a lot more practical and pragmatic in my approach to problem-solving than when I was a young dude. When stuff used to break, I would routinely respond in one of two ways: 1) I would grab the yellow pages and look up who to call to come fix it right away, or 2) I would just throw the damn thing away and go get a new one, if, that is, it was something that I just had to have. In my more mature years, I have learned new coping strategies, like researching it on the internet, rigging it, duct taping it, doing whatever I have to do to AVOID HAVING TO CALL SOMEONE OR BUYING A NEW ONE!!! If necessary, I will even read the manual that came with it. I kid you not...that's how far I've come. I am not really certain, however, if this is really a manifestation of my evolved pragmatism OR is simply evidence that I have become  an incorrigible cheapskate and tightwad (just call me Silas Marner, or maybe Ebeneezer). In addition, I also used to put off having to deal with stuff in need of my attention as long as was humanly possible...to quote a line from one of my favorite songs by an obscure Rock-a-billy, beach bar performer who was brother of a friend of mine, "Procrastination is the national pastime, do it all tomorrow, let's get high today." I used to make procrastination an art form. Now, I know better...it's not going to just get better on its own or go away. I just get it over with...the sooner, the better. In any case, us older folks have a lot more common sense and practicality than when we were younger. Our "get up and go may have got up and went", but when we find it, or catch up to it, and finally get going, I put a lot more stock in our getting the job done and getting it done right than I do in the younger generation (and, yes, that would apply to a younger me, too...maybe doubly so).

Am I peculiar? Yep. Always have been, but I guess, to some degree, we all are in own way. I would describe   myself as curmudgeonly conservative, socially maladjusted, skeptical, cynical, and as a misdiagnosed arrogant bastard (remember, I stole that from a craft beer that I sampled a couple of weeks ago on one of our rare date nights). In young adulthood, pretty much as is true in adolescence, it is critical that you establish that you are different, that you are your own person. How? By being as much like everybody else, conforming to the mores and styles of your peers, as possible. Being peculiar and curmudgeonly is socially unacceptable and might resort to people perceiving you as personna non grata,or even worse, as being UNCOOL. I have routinely told my students in first day of the session orientation that, while I realized that a lot of the "cool" teachers ignored rules and policies regarding things like wearing hats or texting in class, I needed to assure that I was not one of those "cool" teachers. One of the truly neat things about getting older is that being peculiar becomes more acceptable, if not completely expected of you, especially by those who are younger than yourself (Student: "OMG, he is just a  crotchety old fart!!!"...Me: "Yes! You finally get it!"). In other words, what was once a social anvil around your neck becomes, in the "age of getting things done," simply a trait that makes you...well, YOU. And as you grow into that plain ol' "elderly" stage of life, your eccentricities will likely even result in your being labeled "cute." Now, there's certainly a bonus of getting older, even if there weren't any others...it's okay to be a pain in the ass. Yes!!!

So, as I theorized from jump street, this gradual process of my falling apart, bit by bit, hair by hair, cell by cell, day by day, as time and gravity hammer away at the beauty of my youth (such that it ever was), does indeed have a silver lining...at least it has resulted in my 'P's being better than they used to be. I 'preciate more, I parent better, I'm more passionate, I patch things up that I used to toss away, my perception of things (at least, intellectually and emotionally) are more vivid, polished, and complete than when I was firmer, I pause and think before I speak or act, and my prickly personality doesn't put people off is much as it did in the past...'cause after all, I'm old...so being a little weird is to be...well... expected...and besides...I've got more cause to be pissed than ever before...after all, I am coming apart at the seams...fast...

Man, I knew that this aging thing had to have some kind of upside...whew!!!...now, has anybody seen my dang reading glasses?...I gotta' trim this hair sticking out of the middle of my forehead and then I'm gonna' mow my eyebrows...

Later...

A 'Tweenior's Lament: Every Gray Cloud Has Its Silver Lining, Right?

It happened...literally overnight...about three years ago...I woke up to discover that I couldn't read jack crap any more...nada...zip...especially if the lighting was dim. A toddler's book published in giant kiddie font? Maybe. A newspaper, or this tiny, freaking net book, or, God forbid, a menu in a romantic, candle lit restaurant? Forget about it. I mean, I can't even pay the tab in that setting anymore because I can't read the damn receipt, and I live in fear that I will severely over (in which case my penny-pinching, coupon-cutting, bargain surf 'n'shop wife would become utterly distraught) or under tip the server...only to return to the eatery for another meal one day to have my food spat upon by the offended party.

Getting old sucks...no, it doesn't...yes, it does...no, it's great...no, it's not...I wouldn't be any other age...that's your problem fool, 'cause I'd kill to be young again...to be able to read normal stuff, you know, without reading glasses (I'm up to three pair...one a t work, one on the table next to the couch...and one on the night stand next to the bed) and without the need for flood lights to read by. Such is the lament of people my age, an age group that I fondly refer to as "Tweeniors" (you like that? I made it up...I think). A "tweenior" is someone who is deep, I mean really deep into middle age (let's face it, if I'm middle-aged, I'ma gonna' have a party 'cause I'm gonna' live to be hunnerd), but too young to truly be considered a senior (i.e., they won't give me the early bird discount yet at dinner).

'Tweeniors like me wake up many a morning only to look in the mirror and ask, in a state of shock and perhaps horror, "Who the hell is that in my mirror?" Like I said, getting old sucks for a lot of reasons. As I have whined already, my eyesight went to pot in the blink of an eye, and O...M...G, worst case scenario, what if I don't have or can't find my reading glasses? Can you imagine being reduced to having to ask that pixie who is serving me, "Um, ma'am, could you please read this to me and tell me how much I owe?" And what the hell is up with this hair all over my ears? I mean, what is that about? I have to shave my ears now? Really? And honest to God, I pulled a nose hair the other day that was an inch long...and I 'bout cried too it hurt so bad. And my eye brows, if I don't take a mower to 'em regularly, they are almost like kudzu. And what about the rest of my hair? My follicles, the ones what have survived, are all old and tired and won't hold color anymore. The back of my head has made me a poster boy for that spray on hair color for years now. In front, my hairline has been in steady retreat for some time...I got this one hair, this one lone survivor that sticks out like a sore thumb, seemingly in the middle of my forehead...I mean, there isn't another hair within an inch of it...it's like in its own little follicle desert. I refuse to pull it out of either respect or pity for it...I can't decide which. I just don't understand this whole redistribution of hair thing when you get older...maybe the President could explain it to me.

And what about the rest of my body? Where did my six-pack go? Wait...I think I drank that last weekend (not even kidding myself here...only one I ever had came in either cans or bottles). My skin?...I used to stay tan all the time...even without visiting the Island Tan during the winter (by the way, I went there one time a few years ago and used that machine that tans your whole body, 3-D, while you're standing up...naked?...wasn't in there but ten minutes and couldn't sit down for three days), but like my follicles, my poor, tired ol' skin cells just refuse to take or hold color like they used to. And the crow's feet, and the bags under my eyes, and...well, I don't want to even visit the whole topic of man boobs (makes me think about the episode of Seinfeld where Kramer tries to market "the bro"). And losing weight? It's like what my friend said the other night on Facebook...strict diet, walking every day for months, and weight is down a pound and a half...of course, he was talking about his bulldog...I'm talking about me.

And my brain? I used to be one prodigiously smart dude...seriously. I mean, as a kid, I remember studying the vocabulary from Reader's Digest...in the bathroom...'nuf said. But now, sometimes I can't remember what happened yesterday. I wanna' chalk it up to spending the last thirty-one years hanging out with teenagers all the time but that can't be it entirely because, if that were true, I wouldn't be able to string together a single sentence without the word "like", wouldn't be able to function without earphones jammed in my ear canals, and...the clincher...I don't really like cell phones or video games very much, so "the company I keep" excuse can't entirely explain my individual intellectual decay. And socially? It's just so sad...all the young folks, the ones who are "the bomb", all jiffy pop, the eager beavers, the go-getters, you know, like I used to be...they are starting to treat me like some quirky, dusty, pathetic, old relic that you have to obligatorily call "Sir" and be respectful to and all...you know...because you're their "elder."

Like I said...aging really bites. So if every musty, old gray cloud (clearly intended to be a metaphor for me and the all the negative aspects of my current condition...at least I think it's one...remember, I don't know all that kind of stuff like I use to) really does have its silver lining, then what are all the positives of getting older and being a 'tweenior?...h-m-m-m-m, I'll have to chew on that and get back to you...I'm sure there are some...well, one?...I think...I hope...

Later...

Hey, Nancy, I Might Be Wrong, I Might Be Crazy: I'm Skeptical that the First Is True, But About The Second One?

Now, I don't claim to be a constitutional scholar, but I actually have read the U.S. Constitution many, many times...in its entirety. So today's news that a Florida court has ruled that Congress overstepped its constitutional authority in passing, as part of the Affordable Care Act (lovingly referred to by its conservative opponents as Obama Care), a requirement that all Americans have to purchase health insurance is most welcome news. In fact, the judge ruled, essentially, that if the individual mandate is unconstitutional then the package as a whole is unconstitutional, as that egregious part was not "severable" from the aggregate. The lawyers who wrote it outsmarted themselves by including language that would have provided for severalibilty and then removing it. Well, I guess, Nancy (Pelosi), maybe we should have opened that there 2000-plus page monstrosity up, read it thoroughly, found out was it in it (and we knew, in fact, that this was), thought about it a lot more, before we passed it. In politics in the modern world, one party, regardless of which one it might be, can't railroad, ramrod, and steamroll  a piece of legislation to passage without everyone knowing that is what happened...and that's what happened when this was passed by Congress and then signed into law by the President. Something this huge, this significant to so many should not be subject to the tender mercies of partisanship. It's gotta' be a team thing...you know, all in.


In passing this power play, its supporters most assuredly cited at least two sources of authority to do so. In that the federal government is not expressly given the power to regulate health care, congressional supporters most certainly argue that the broad basis of their doing so rests in. Article I, Section 8, Clause 18, the "implied powers" or "necessary and proper" clause which states, "The Congress shall have Power - To make all Laws which shall be necessary and proper for carrying into Execution the foregoing Powers, and all other Powers vested by this Constitution in the Government of the United States, or in any Department or Officer thereof."
This has oft been interpreted by loose constructionist legislators to mean that Congress can do whatever it wants whenever it wants about whatever it wants...as long as, of course, no one sues and the Supreme Court then uses its power of judicial review to say, "Nope...can't do it." From this broad foundation, these Hamiltonian interpreters of the USC then cite, as more specific grounds for their being able to pass legislation regarding health care and health insurance, which, as noted, is not an enumerated power, its right to enforce the Commerce Clause of the Constitution, which states that Congress the power, " "To regulate Commerce with foreign Nations, and among the several States, and with the Indian Tribes". Now,  re-read that to yourself carefully. Like the necessary and proper clause, this clause has been interpreted by many as a congressional carte blanche to regulate whatever they want...all they need do is deem whatever it is they want to regulate as commerce, especially interstate commerce, and...there you go...voila!!!. The only problem is that this stipulation was included in the Constitution on the heels of the economic chaos that followed the American Revolution during the short-lived Articles of Confederation era. The new states, who had formerly functioned largely as independent units, except for their colonial economic relationship with Great Britain, were acting like little independent nation-states in their dealings with one another and others, going to the extremes of states setting up tariffs (taxes) on goods coming in from other states (so Georgia peanuts, for example, being trucked into New York would be taxed at the weigh station as they crossed the state line). Needless to say, this situation was hindering to the growth of both economic and political unity and national prosperity.


Given these bases for passage, the problems with the whole issue are several, as I see them. First, health care is not necessarily a right. Perhaps it should be based upon the ninth amendment, which basically says that just because a right was not enumerated in the first eight in the Bill of Rights, doesn't mean that it's not. Everyone should be well but what that entails remains to be seen. The courts have yet rule on this specifically. Secondly, at one point during the so-called "health care debate", the administration and congressional leaders, in diversion of criticism that the new law might affect the quality of health care, said that it was really about reforming health insurance, rather than American health care, which is arguably the best in the world. Well, the problem with that as far as the Commerce Clause is concerned is that health insurance is not even sold across state lines. That fact alone suggests that, as things stand today, this type of legislation is more the constitutional bailiwick of the states, under the tenth amendment, than it is the domain of the federal government. Thirdly, and the really dangerous issue in my mind and that of most its opponents, the individual mandate requiring people to buy health insurance, which was a) necessary to help fund the newly insured under this plan, and b) seems clearly designed, along with the new rules and costs to small businesses that will likely cause many to pay fines in lieu of burdening themselves with the additional expenditures for employee insurance, to push us toward, eventually, a single payer system (socialized medicine), did two things that are difficult to comprehend from a libertarian perspective: 1) it required people  to buy a product because they are Americans and breathing, and 2) it instituted a penalty for not doing so...in other words...you could be fined (punished) for...that's right...doing nothing, taking no action, for the decision not to buy a product, for inactivity, for simply sitting at home on one's derriere. To put it in the vernacular, OMG...that is SO NOT COOL.


If the government can tell us what to buy and penalize us for not doing anything, it is not a stretch to imagine what will come next. It is absolutely frightening to me. Don't get me wrong, I think that there are steps that we can take to make the system better for everyone. Coverage for pre-existing conditions? A good thing, I think, though understandably a costly proposition for insurers. Eliminating lifetime benefits ceilings? A good thing, though obviously expensive for the insurance industry. Allowing young people to remain on their parents health insurance policies longer? Good, but 26? Why not 40? Not sure I get the significance. Preventing insurers form dropping coverage? Theoretically sounds good, but perhaps problematic given costs and certain circumstances. Are there other steps that can be taken that weren't? Heck yes! Medical tort reform...let's face it...a lot of suits are frivolous and some of the awards are beyond comprehension or reason. Allowing insurance to be sold across state lines? Could make insurance more competitive and maybe even more affordable (danger? definitely becomes interstate commerce, but like I said...Congress ain't letting that stand in the way right now anyway). In other areas already under the auspices of the government, reducing Medicare and Medicaid  fraud? Bet it's rampant and costs the system millions each year. I think that there are probably tons of different ideas and solutions that weren't thoughtfully and seriously explored during the last two years. What I would like to see is for us re-visit the topic together, Democrats, Republicans, Tea Party members, medical professionals, insurance companies (that's right...these people are in business to make a profit, as are physicians...the decisions that we make should include them)...involve all of the various stakeholders in the process. TOGETHER, TOGETHER, TOGETHER, I believe that we can forge compromise and a plan of action that are significantly better, more effective, and more affordable than what was strong-armed through last year...oh yea, and one that does not trample upon the Constitution and cause the Framers to spin like tops in their graves.


Today's decision, along with the preceding Virginia ruling and the others that may follow along the road to the Supreme Court, begs the question, "How could it be so clear to so many that this was/is wrong but not to the administration and its allies in Congress?" Of course, the fat lady has not sung, sang...darn it, I can never remember the rule on that one..HAS YET TO SING on this issue, but I hope that I'm right (but, as always, I could NOT be) for all of our sakes that the USSC is going to see what seems so clear to many lay people and that it strikes down the individual mandate, which is the lynch pin of  the entire Obama Care package. Otherwise, Congress may one day pass a law that says that I cannot sit here on my butt writing this blog...I mean, talk about your inactivity now... . A parting thought...I loved how the administration's spokesperson, referring to today's decision, said that it (the administration) hoped that this type of judicial activism would not stand...now that's funny...Democrats criticizing judicial activism. Judicial activism and loose interpretation of the Constitution are long-time staples of the Donks. Let's face it, everybody opposes judicial activism unless it shapes the law as they would like it to be... man, y'all funny. 


Later...

Weighing in on the Latest Play of the Race Card: You Don't Speak for Me, Moron

For me, playing the race card is old...it's just tired, tiresome, and antiquated. The once justified and viable civil rights charge from a bygone era is now largely just a dusty ol' anachronism that just won't go away. And keeping it alive seems to have no real benefit, except, of course, for the temporary purpose of dividing people and deflecting blame and attention. Today, the majority of the time that the race card is played it amounts to nothing more than an excuse...and I have a perspective on excuses...about 99% of excuses are just that...excuses. From time to time, the race card is still pulled from the drawer of useless relics, dusted off, and used as an excuse when receiving unwanted criticism, as an excuse for failing to perform, as an excuse for being incompetent, as an excuse for being unable to stand the heat of being in the kitchen or under the hot lights of the big stage. It is so overused that even white people try to play it. Does racism still exist in America? Of course it does. It resides in the hearts and minds of a minority of very "small" people of every race, ethnicity, and religion, and it finds companionship in and draws energy from the various other forms of prejudice and bias that unfortunately can and do infect and blight the human heart. I don't know, given the imperfection of humankind, if that will ever completely change. But today, racism just isn't the real explanation for most of the things that it is used as an alibi or rationalization for.

This week, Rep. Jim Moran (D-VA...sorry, but that's his affiliation), henceforth to be known herein as MORON, in an interview with an Arab news channel, basically explained away the beating that the Democrats took in the mid-term elections in November as the by-product of "straight up" racism, as one of my absolute fave libs, Janeane Garofalo, would characterize it. First off, why do people say stuff like that in that kind of forum? To me, that's like violating the etiquette regarding criticizing one's family...we can chastise each other to each other, but you just don't crack on your family when talking to strangers...you just don't do it. I wouldn't vote for someone who did that...ever. It's been one of my problems with the President and his "apology tour" foreign policy strategy, but of course, I am probably just being a racist for objecting to his "bend over" approach  to dealing with the rest of the world (of course, what it actually makes me is a patriot).

So let me get my arms around this MORON's charge...the resounding butt whoopin' that the Dems took in November occurred because white Americans don't want to be ruled by a black president? To begin with, U.S. presidents don't rule...that ain't the way this ship runs. To his assertion that one of largest defeats in modern political history was simply manifestation and proof of widespread racism among white Americans, I say, "Baloney!" (I say that only because I am striving not to ALWAYS use the exact words that I am thinking when writing). You know, I would probably never even think about President Obama being black if people like this MORON guy were not constantly reminding us that he is. Despite what I heard Geraldo Rivera (I really don't like Geraldo a lot) say to to O'Reilly the other night, I really don't know any white folks who get all racist every time they gather around the water cooler at work or throw back a couple of beers in a bar. Honestly, I see the President as an extremely bright (not necessarily an asset given that he may just think that he is smarter than everyone else...and that ain't always good) and personable guy, who clearly loves his family, who likes basketball and other sports (which gives him a bit of an "every man" flavor...and that's a good thing, I think), who seems to have a good sense of humor and a sharp wit, who enjoys having a beer, who is perhaps the most gifted orator of our time (probably got him elected), who, short of experience (seriously short, I might add), seems to possess in his toolbox all of the attributes necessary to be a gifted politician, who is clearly an idealist rather than a pragmatist (and that could work against him), and who seems to possess the ideology of a far left, progressive liberal, perhaps even those of an aspiring pseudo-European-style socialist. Certainly, most of those things are positive, but none make him a bad guy or otherwise unworthy of being president...and without a doubt, none of them have anything to do with his race.

The explanation of November's loss was not race, but instead, rhythm, or the lack thereof. After the Democrats ran the table in 2008, they interpreted their success, as politicians often mistakenly do, as a mandate from the people, as carte blanche to enact legislation actualizing the liberal agenda of the party's far left and the Progressive vision of the President. In reality, I believe that the 2008 mid-term outcome manifested two things: 1) the traditional war weariness that America always experiences as months of fighting turn into years, and 2) the emerging economic panic of a nation whose financial household appeared to be coming apart at the seams. It may have even evidenced "an inconvenient truth" (get it) of a different sort. Let's face it, though re-elected  in 2004, 'W' had a cloud of inevitable doom looming over his head tracing back to his disputed "hanging chad" victory over Al "I invented the internet and discovered global warming" Gore back in 2000. I theorize that, were it not for the patriotic aftereffects and inevitable uncertainty associated with the 9/11 terror attacks and the absence of a really attractive Democratic candidate (Mr. Heinz Ketchup...really?...for those who had forgotten...and let's face it, that wouldn't be that hard to do), Bush 43 could have and perhaps would have been defeated in 2004. The bottom line regarding mid-term 2010 is that many Democrats were wrong about what 2008 meant and are just out of rhythm, out of step with the mainstream of America. The President, Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid, and the rest of the port side of the Democratic party were trying to lead us in some kind of weird, artsy-fartsy modern dance that few of us liked or understood, while most of us average folk are still enjoying the twist, the bump, the disco shuffle, the moon walk, the robot, the soldier boy, the salsa, and crankin' it...you get my drift...my flow.... They want us to dance a dance that we are just not feeling. Their Progressive (and I do not mean moving forward and improving here) vision of social capitalism, radical transformation, redistribution of wealth, collective salvation, social justice, and globalism (one world, one love, one economy, one currency, one government) is not one that I think most Americans relate to. Yes, America, like the rest of this rapidly changing world that we live in, must move forward and keep step; after all, he who stands still is destined to get left behind. But, that does not translate into our having  to turn our backs on the ideals, the virtues, the institutions, and the other traditional assets of our forefathers that made our nation great in the first place. Progress just doesn't mean or require that. When you lose sight of and touch with your roots, you lose your identity, your way, your cultural and even moral and compass. If anything, we should hearken back to those things that made us great and build our future progress upon them. The Democrats did not lose the the People's House in November because white Americans resent having a black president. I don't care if this or future PsOTUS are white, black, yellow, green, Polish-American, Latino, male, female, Hindu, Jewish, gay, etc. My support, or lack thereof, will be related to their policies and how they mesh with the ideals and principles that the founders espoused in the U.S. Constitution...it ain't personal. Instead, the Democrats lost because they mistakenly allowed the more liberal elements of their party to gain control of their legislative agenda. Through their vote, the American people have rejected the European social-democratic model, and I, for one, am glad. Most of the best of Europe is in the past, on a plate, or in a glass...and besides, I'm still enjoying the Electric Slide.

Over the past two years, I have been amazed by those supporters of the President who have suggested, and by some who have all but said (and some just  plain-old have) that we should support the President and his policies simply because he is our nation's first African -American president. Look, I am proud that our nation has moved so far and so fast away from the ugly and unfortunate racism that once existed as a cancer upon our culture and that so limited our greatness as a people and a nation. I am certain that in the future we can and will continue to work to eliminate every scintilla of racism that may still be lurking in our midst that we can. I believe that President Obama is a man that Americans of every race and creed can be proud to be represented by. He is a clearly a decent and gifted American. With that said, however, it is my/our fundamental right, in fact, my/our duty as Americans to express our disagreement with and objection to government policies that we do not feel are appropriate, effective, just, or representative of the America that each of us dreams of for ourselves and for our children. Dissent and disagreement, coalition and compromise are the things have separated us from the autocracies of the today's world, as well as those of its past. It is MORONic that we should keep up our mouths shut and just follow blindly 'cause we 'sposed to. People who do that get led into dark alleys, beat up, and robbed. That is the very mentality that the civil rights movement fought so hard to change. I voted for conservative candidates in November NOT because President Obama is black, as Rep. MORON conjectures and rationalizes, but because I disagreed with the direction that his administration's policies and Congress's legislation were taking my country...plain and simple..."straight up". Like I said, that ol' race card is a tired, predictable gambit in an old game that most people ain't even playing anymore...and like the President himself said in the SOTU address the other night, the rules of the game have changed...so to Rep. MORON, I mean Moran (who, by the way, is himself a WASP)...sir, speak for yourself not for me...oh yea, and you have a nice day.

Afterthought...I chuckled to myself the other night at a Facebook status complaining that labels (like harsh, political rhetoric) are a big part of the cycle of infighting and inertia that so dominates politics today...to me, that is a silly assertion...categories and labels are how we organize the superabundance of stuff surrounding us in our world and how we think about it. People have just become way too sensitive about nomenclature...pretty soon, we are will be reduced to talking about "this" and "that", and "him" and "her," and "it" to avoid offending every conceivable member of our audience...???...oh, and by the way, Wile E. Coyote nor Sarah Palin shot Rep. Giffords and those other poor souls in Arizona...a really messed up kid with evil in his heart and mind did...

Later...