September 2008


29 Sep 2008 09:59 pm

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Nancy Pelosi has presided over the most despicable Congress in the past fifty years. Under this woman and her cronies our stock market lost seven percent of its value today and will probably lose more value tomorrow. Yet Congress will not meet again until this Thursday.

With Nancy Pelosi at the Congressional helm our nation has been weakened both economically and strategically. Here, she finally had a deal today and instead of pulling both sides of Congress to her side to show strength to the world at large and Wall Street in particular, she chose to play dirty politics, and attack the Republicans in Congress who were, by the way, elected by the people just as she was. She just couldn’t help it I suppose, the Bush Derangement Syndrome is so deeply embedded in her very marrow that she was compelled to veer from the script.

When President Bush took office, he inherited President Clinton’s surpluses — four years in a row, budget surpluses, on a trajectory of $5.6 trillion in surplus. And with his reckless economic policies within two years, he had turned that around … and now eight years later the foundation of that fiscal irresponsibility, combined with an anything-goes economic policy, has taken us to where we are today. They claim to be free-market advocates when it’s really an anything-goes mentality, no regulation, no supervision, no discipline. …”

“… Democrats believe in a free market … but in this case, in its unbridled form as encouraged, supported by the Republicans — some in the Republican Party, not all — it has created not jobs, not capital, it has created chaos.”

I find it hard to believe that Pelosi and company really intend to pass the bailout bill. If they can stretch this crisis until November so much the better for the Democrats must be their calculation.

29 Sep 2008 12:51 am

The leftwing media have been digging for dirt on Sarah Palin for the past three and half weeks but haven’t been able to find any. So now they and their friends at SNL have latched on to Palin’s statement that on an island off the Alaskan border in the distance you can see Russia.

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When we lived at Fort Monroe, VA, my family and I took walks on the seawall and could see ships coming into the Chesapeake Bay from the Atlantic Ocean. We saw many ships sailing by including Russian ships. The Chesapeake Bay spilled into the Atlantic and at one point on the lighthouse side of the post I fancied that I could look across the Bay into the Atlantic. I imagined that I could see the southern coast of Spain.

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When our son was nine years old I took him to visit my sister and her husband and new baby in Maine. We went to a beach near Keenebunkport to see the Atlantic Ocean. As you can see it really captured our son’s imagination.

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When we lived in Panama we could look out on the rocky beach of Panama City and see the Pacific Ocean.

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When we moved to Heidelberg, Germany I stood up on the hill above the Heidelberg Castle and could see far down the Neckar River.

I found it was a much happier view when I was standing on American soil looking out on the world than being far away in another country looking out on other bodies of water.

That Sarah Palin understands the geography of her state is obvious. That leftists who hate her have taken her words out of context in order to belittle her is more than obvious.

Bill Dyer, blogging at Hugh Hewitt’s blog writes that yes, indeed, on a clear day you can see Russia from Alaska.

In the native language, it’s called “Inalik,” meaning “the other one” or “the one over there.” In English, the town’s name is “Diomede,” and with a 2000 U.S. Census population of 146, it’s part of “the Nome Census Area of the Unorganized Borough of the U.S. state of Alaska, located on the island of Little Diomede” (the smaller island itself being known as “Ignaluk” in the local language). Their state governor, of course, is Sarah Palin. And the “other other” impliedly referenced by the native name is undoubtedly the nearby island of Big Diomede, which is easily visible at less than three miles away — even though Big Diomede is part of Russia.

What is more, for those who would just accept Tina Fey’s silly caricature of Sarah Palin, (”I can see Russia!”) if one is on Little Diomede one can see for themselves that Alaska and Russia share a border across the frozen Bering Strait.

During and after World War II, the Soviets maintained a military base on Big Diomede, from which they would take captive anyone who wandered across the frozen strait. “[T]he two island communities, connected by Eskimo family kinships but separated by American/Russian politics, led parallel lives — pictures of Karl Marx hung in the Russian schools, pictures of Abraham Lincoln in the American.”

I’m not saying that these photos and maps, by themselves, are any proof that Sarah Palin is ready to be a heartbeat from the presidency. I am saying that these photos and maps, by themselves, are indeed proof that she and others were telling the literal truth when they described Russia as sharing a border with, and being visible from, Alaska.

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The thing is, Sarah Palin sees America as many Americans do and she offers us conservative, common sense, authenticity and instinctive leadership abilities as the vice presidential nominee of the Republican party.

What is it with the Kathleen Parker type of conservative writers who, in the days after Sarah was interviewed by the likes of Katie Couric, (who has never treated a Republican or conservative in a fair way) is calling for Gov. Palin to step down as the veep nominee? What is that woman thinking? (I’m not going to give her the benefit of a link, she made no sense in her article.)

Sarah Palin may not be charming many beltway type conservatives but she is charming the American people. She is drawing big crowds and has upped the excitement for many of us.

When Sarah Palin looks out over the U.S. border to the rest of the world, she views it as an American who loves her country.

To write her off after one interview with Katie Couric? Ridiculous! Now we know who among the so-called conservative elite can be rolled.

UPDATE:
John Mark Reynolds takes on Rod Dreyer in this piece in which Reynolds points out that Dreyer and others have jumped to conclusions with astonishing alacrity (and I might add emotion) in regards to Sarah Palin’s interviews with the biased news media. No, Sarah hasn’t developed a nasty comeback to interviewers when she’s been “Gotcha-ed” but she will.

27 Sep 2008 06:45 am

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Drew and his wife, Joni at my daughter’s wedding.

It’s almost been a year since our son, Drew returned from his year long deployment to Iraq. His birthday is approaching in late September. It will be the first time he has been home to celebrate his birthday in two years. The deployment took him away from home longer than a year, the training was six months long or so.

Drew and Joni are going to his ten year reunion at West Point this October. Time has flown. I remember my husband’s ten year reunion as if it were yesterday.

Recently my son had this to say about being home for his birthday…

September 27th of this year will be the first birthday for me at home in two years. On the 27th of September in 2006 I swiped my card in Kuwait, we flew in on the 26th around 9pm Kuwait time, took the long ride to the camp with a stop at some place to use the latrines and drink some water and a smoke break, ended up standing in line at the camp at midnight and swiped my card on my birthday.

The year after in 2007 on the 27th I split a pizza and a bunch of Dr. Peppers with 2LT Rusty Fontenot, 1LT Tim Dean, Maj Mike Henderson, and CPT Kovar Petersen, all guys from 875th HQ, at Fort McCoy Wisconsin having been back for 6 days in the states, the first night I had absolutely nothing to do in the deployment but goof off.

The next day all we had on the plate was an awards ceremony, turning in our leave forms, and packing up for the final flight home. The first one was a pretty tiring birthday filled with lots to do and anticipation of what we needed to get done for our final link up with the RIP unit in Iraq.

The second was filled with sitting in the barracks, talking to good friends, and looking out the window to see the green grass and totally relaxing cool breeze coming in the open doors anticipating finally stepping off the bus at Jonesboro to see my family.

Pretty interesting birthdays for me.

25 Sep 2008 11:46 pm

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I came across the following article, thanks to my niece. Most Americans won’t get a chance to read it unless they read Air Force publications.

Here is more evidence of President Bush’s great heart. Since January 20th, 2001 he has argueably faced more times of crisis than the vast majority of American presidents. All kinds of calumnies have been hurled at him, but still, he hasn’t lost his soul.

8/15/2008 - EIELSON AIR FORCE BASE, Alaska — I learned a big lesson on service Aug. 4, 2008, when Eielson had the rare honor of hosting President Bush on a refueling stop as he traveled to Asia.

It was an event Eielson will never forget — a hangar full of Airmen and Soldiers getting to see the Commander in Chief up close, and perhaps even shaking his hand. An incredible amount of effort goes into presidential travel because of all of the logistics, security, protocol, etc … so it was remarkable to see Air Force One land at Eielson on time at precisely 4:30 p.m.–however, when he left less than two hours later, the President was 15 minutes behind schedule.

That’s a big slip for something so tightly choreographed, but very few people know why it happened. Here’s why.

On Dec. 10, 2006, our son, Shawn, was a paratrooper deployed on the outskirts of Baghdad. He was supposed to spend the night in camp, but when a fellow soldier became ill Shawn volunteered to take his place on a nighttime patrol–in the convoy’s most exposed position as turret gunner in the lead Humvee. He was killed instantly with two other soldiers when an IED ripped through their vehicle.

I was thinking about that as my family and I sat in the audience listening to the President’s speech, looking at the turret on the up-armored Humvee the explosive ordnance disposal flight had put at the edge of the stage as a static display.

When the speech was over and the President was working the crowd line, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see a White House staff member. She asked me and my wife to come with her, because the President wanted to meet us.

Stunned, we grabbed our two sons that were with us and followed her back into a conference room. It was a shock to go from a crowded, noisy hangar, past all of those security people, to find ourselves suddenly alone in a quiet room.

The only thing we could hear was a cell phone vibrating, and noticed that it was coming from the jacket Senator Stevens left on a chair. We didn’t answer.

A short time later, the Secret Service opened the door and President Bush walked in. I thought we might get to shake his hand as he went through. But instead, he walked up to my wife with his arms wide, pulled her in for a hug and a kiss, and said, “I wish I could heal the hole in your heart.” He then grabbed me for a hug, as well as each of our sons. Then he turned and said, “Everybody out.”

A few seconds later, the four of us were completely alone behind closed doors with the President of the United States and not a Secret Service agent in sight.

He said, “Come on, let’s sit down and talk.” He pulled up a chair at the side of the room, and we sat down next to him. He looked a little tired from his trip, and he noticed that his shoes were scuffed up from leaning over concrete barriers to shake hands and pose for photos. He slumped down the chair, completely relaxed, smiled, and suddenly was no longer the President - he was just a guy with a job, sitting around talking with us like a family member at a barbeque.

For the next 15 or 20 minutes, he talked with us about our son, Iraq, his family, faith, convictions, and shared his feelings about nearing the end of his presidency. He asked each of our teenaged sons what they wanted to do in life and counseled them to set goals, stick to their convictions, and not worry about being the “cool” guy.

He said that he’d taken a lot of heat during his tenure and was under a lot of pressure to do what’s politically expedient, but was proud to say that he never sold his soul. Sometimes he laughed, and at others he teared up. He said that what he’ll miss most after leaving office will be his role as Commander in Chief.

One of the somber moments was when he thanked us for the opportunity to meet, because he feels a heavy responsibility knowing that our son died because of a decision he made. He was incredibly humble, full of warmth, and completely without pretense. We were seeing the man his family sees.

We couldn’t believe how long he was talking to us, but he seemed to be in no hurry whatsoever. In the end, he thanked us again for the visit and for the opportunity to get off his feet for a few minutes. He then said, “Let’s get some pictures.” The doors flew open, Secret Service and the White House photographer came in, and suddenly he was the President again. We posed for individual pictures as he gave each of us one of his coins, and then he posed for family pictures. A few more thank yous, a few more hugs, and he was gone.

There is more here.







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Speaking of another man who seeks to serve his country…..

John McCain has taken on the role of statesman in a city where few can be found. Certainly his opponent wasn’t interested in turning on a dime and suspending his campaign in order to do work on saving our economy.

Perhaps it was below his paygrade.

Some nights as I approach turning out the light I start to feel low after reading and digesting all the news of the day. Tonight is one of those evenings. That Barack Obama has any support whatsoever is totally disheartening to me. What could my fellow Americans be thinking?

And yet, I am one of those sleep on it people. Things always look better in the morning.

It will.

24 Sep 2008 05:07 pm

When my girls were little and it was time for snack I would call them to come down stairs and only Charlotte would come. Kate was so busy playing that she would put off coming to the snack. Sometimes, when Kate was really late Charlotte would eat her crackers or cookies. Later, Kate would come walking in and see her empty plate and stomp her little foot and stick out her lower lip. It got to the point that I made up a little ditty.

Kate, Kate, came too late

Charlotte got her cracker

I was following the news accounts on my radio today during school breaks and heard the news that John McCain announced that he was suspending his campaign in order to do his duty as a Senator and citizen and help to solve the financial crisis in Washington D.C.

In addition, McCain said that he wants to postpone the debate Friday night.

Later on Barack Obama called a news conference and claimed that he had called John McCain first and no, he didn’t want to put off the debate. (he’s been practicing for three days, it might upset his mojo)

I think John McCain got the cracker.

The leadership cracker.

Sorry Obama.

21 Sep 2008 07:36 pm

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My Maternal Grandfather, Guy Smith Webster when he was twenty four years old.

My mother gave me a treasure last night when I was at my parents’ home visiting with them. Actually, I have to give the photo back but she let me take it home to scan it. Scanning helps to spread the wealth.

My grandfather was always a snappy dresser. I don’t remember ever seeing him without a hat and his favored tweed jackets with leather elbow patches. Papaw was a smoker so when he was around there was an aroma of Old Spice and Lucky Strikes. Two aromas that are not politically correct today but still are pleasing to me.

Guy Smith Webster, my maternal grandfather would have been about twenty four when the above photo was taken. Looking closely I can see my great-grandmother (we called her “Nanny”) looking out the door at her son. Nanny was a Nolen, born in Florence, Alabama to James Green Nolen and Eliza Isbell. When she was a baby her family moved in a covered wagon to Yell County, Arkansas then settled on Short Mountain near Paris, Arkansas. Leona Tamsie Nolen married Albert Webster, son of William Leonard Webster and Nancy Ann Pearson.

The Webster family settled in Paris, Arkansas and when William and Nancy’s children grew up each was given land and a house built by their father, William Leonard Webster. My grandmother, Hazel Alabama Whitmarsh married Guy Smith Webster when they were twenty three or twenty four years old.

By that time Guy had moved to Fort Smith to make his living. He chose not to settle on the Webster land. One reason why he left Paris my grandmother told me, was that he was bothered that there was so much intermarriage of cousins in his family.

That wasn’t the life Guy Smith Webster would choose to live.

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Guy started his own dry cleaning business on the main street of Fort Smith, Garrison Avenue. He called the cleaners, The Rightway Cleaners. Not long after, he met and married my grandmother and they went into business together.

He had been advised by the local pharmacist in Paris, Dr. Thompson that Fort Smith was the place to go to work. Interestingly, Dr. Thompson’s, two sons, Bob and James Thompson became doctors and after serving in World War ll settled in Fort Smith. Dr. Jim was my father-in-law, C.C.’s best friend. The two brothers were in practice together and Dr. Bob delivered our first child. Between the two brothers about ten thousand babies were delivered.

I wish I could say that much of the information that I know about my grandfather came from him, but that would not be true. He died at the age of sixty, when I was ten years old. I remember that melancholy day very well. On a Sunday morning in December when we ordinarily would be waking up to a big breakfast of pancakes we were instead whisked out of our beds and taken to our paternal grandparent’s house.

It was always fun to go to Mamaw and Papaw Fletcher’s house as Mamaw was the cheeriest person in the world. She made sure we were comfortable and I discovered that my most favorite movie was on the television, The Wizard of Oz. I remember watching the movie and finding some comfort in it because I knew something was wrong.

Meanwhile my Mother and Dad rushed over to my maternal grandparents’ home where they found an ambulance ready to transport my grandfather to the hospital. My mother rode in the ambulance along with my grandfather and he died on the way to the hospital.

A very sad day indeed.

I remember sitting in my grandparents’ house afterwards, my grandmother grieving, blaming herself because my grandfather had stumbled out of bed to help her after she had fallen down with a convulsion. My grandmother was an epileptic, an ailment she had suffered from her early twenties. My mother was an only child because the doctors advised my grandparents not to have any more children because her condition was not always controlled by medication.

That afternoon I understood the old time maxim, children should be seen and not heard. I sat and listened as all the adults spoke words of comfort to my grandmother and mother and was full of questions which went unanswered.

I remember going to bed unable to sleep that night and many nights following, thinking of my beloved grandfather and knowing I would never see him again. My pillow was wet with tears and I counted to one thousand, hoping that my mother would be asleep by the time I was at the end of the count. Our father was working the graveyard shift and I was frightened and upset.

I quietly made my way into my parent’s bedroom and slipped into bed by my mother. In the morning I discovered that my brother and sister had also done the same thing. My youngest brother was still in his baby bed or there would have been four children in my mother and dad’s double bed.

Most of the biographical information about my grandfather came from my grandmother. She talked about “Guy” a lot in the twenty four years she lived as a widow. She would look for our resemblance to him. I had his eyes Mamaw told me. But my youngest brother, who was only a year old when my grandfather died was his namesake. He became Little Guy to my grandmother.

Papaw was the man who took care of everyone, including his own widowed mother, his alcoholic brother, Mutt and Mutt’s children. My great Aunt Hetty also told me what it was like to grow up in the shadow of her treasured older brother. They were eighteen years apart and Aunt Hetty tells me that when she was born, my grandfather paid the doctor’s bill for her. Guy’s father, Albert worked in the coal mines near Paris, Arkansas and an explosion had taken away his hearing so he had also moved to Fort Smith to work as a night watchman at a local business. Aunt Hetty told me things that my grandfather had said to her when she was a young woman that actually helped me when I confronted troubled times.

I tried to remember Papaw’s voice after he died and for many years I did remember and to this day I sometimes hear a voice that will make me think of him. He had a deep, golden toned voice that always filled me with comfort.

I remember one particular day, riding in Papaw Webster’s two toned blue, 1954 Pontiac as he drove us to see his mother. Nanny was in a rest home (which is what we called it back then) and he made sure to take her things that she needed. It’s a slight memory now, I remember being in the backseat of the car, listening to my Mother talk to him in the front seat of the car. I remember it was a cold and clear day and we were crossing Garrison Avenue to an older part of town to a neighborhood where the nursing home was located. It was a very large home in what is now called the historic district of Fort Smith. I always looked to the end of Garrison Avenue to see the Catholic Church which anchored it. Immaculate Conception Church has always been beautiful but never more so than during the Christmas holidays when it lights surround the outline of the church. But when I was a kid that didn’t occur. It wouldn’t have mattered to me. It was still a breathtaking view.

It wasn’t everyday that our grandfather took us out in his car and I loved going with him.

The house had a nice breezy feel to it but had that nursing home smell. My great grandmother and I had a conversation about what it was like when she was growing up. I was always curious about what it was like when my Nanny was a young girl. I also wanted to know what we were. Was her family Irish or English? She told me that the Isbells were English but the Nolens were Irish. She said she thought there might be some French heritage somewhere. Meanwhile my grandfather was talking to the administrators of the nursing home. Apparently, he had discovered that some of the nursing staff were stealing my great grandmother’s belongings. She was a great reader and had been missing her books. My grandfather found a better nursing home for her.

Papaw loved Valentines Day. He always bought specially made petit fours and little cakes for us. He loved to give us jewelry and necklaces too. I still have all of it too. Every year he purchased new cowboy boots for all of his four grandchildren on our birthdays. The store next door to the Rightway Cleaners was called Tip Top Boots and was owned by the Miller family. They were good friends of my grandfather and always welcomed us into their store. The store smelled of leather and polish. I loved to go in there and pick out new boots and look at the saddles.

One is tempted to ask, what kind of grandfather was Guy Smith Webster? He was the best of the best. He gave us a donkey! That seemed normal back then but today I know the giving of a donkey might be outrageous in some quarters. But not in mine. We named our donkey Tarzan.

Two weeks before my grandfather’s death he had a premonition. He gave my Dad some money and asked him to be sure to buy my brother, Bobby some boots for his birthday. Papaw died on December 10th, 1961 a day before my brother’s birthday.

Today, Sunday, September 21st is his birthday.

21 Sep 2008 10:27 am

A big thorn in the side of Arkansas, Tony Alamo’s compound is raided.

Federal authorities conducting a child-porn investigation raided the headquarters Saturday of a ministry run by a convicted tax evader once labeled by prosecutors as a polygamist who preys on girls and women.

Social workers interviewed children who live at the Tony Alamo Christian Ministries complex, which critics call a cult, to find out whether they were abused. The two-year investigation involves a law that prohibits the transportation of children across state lines for criminal activity, said Tom Browne, who runs the FBI office in Little Rock.

“Children living at the facility may have been sexually and physically abused,” Browne said.

Back during the eighties when Tony Alamo based his so-called ministries in Alma, Arkansas my parents met some members of his church, Sharon and David Kroopf. Sharon and David were a young couple with an adorable little girl named Becky and had moved in next door to my parents. I happened to be visiting one summer with my children and met Sharon and her daughter, Becky who was about three years old. My kids enjoyed playing with Becky. Sharon was a sweet person and interesting to get to know but she was full of the Alamo idealogy. However, when she tried to evangelize my parents and me she met with a brick wall.

David and Becky were Jewish and had met Alamo in California and had followed him out to Arkansas. David had at one time worked for his father’s jewelers so was interested in gold and jewelry. He sold a few pieces to my dad. My parents were interested in getting the family out of the cult and during my visit I tried to persuade Sharon to leave the cult.

I heard later that Sharon’s husband, David was also trying to persuade Sharon to leave. She refused to leave and later married Tony Alamo. When I heard that I was more than disgusted and wondered what happened to Becky.

Apparently she stayed with her mother.

According to this article Tony Alamo has taken other unofficial wives including an African American woman. The new compound is located in Fouke, a small southwestern Arkansas town.

Still, (unbelievably) Alamo has followers all over the state evangelizing and placing his anti-Catholic fliers under windshields in shopping center parking lots and even in private homes. We found a flier under the windshield of our car parked in our own yard just recently.

For the sake of paper, if not little children the man has got to be stopped.

18 Sep 2008 11:21 pm

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This presidential season is turning out to be brutal. Not only did Barack Obama make his political ascent by surrounding himself with America haters, (Jeremiah Wright and William Ayers) and convicted criminals, (Tony Rezko) he chose a wife (Michelle) who wasn’t proud of being an American until Barack was running for president, even though she had attained a tremendous education and landed a very lucrative job. That’s not good enough you see, because there were all those college loans to pay back.

But what kind of inspiration has Obama (the Messiah) been to his followers? What great acts of courage and philanthropic grace has Obama inspired of those who follow him?

Obama supporters sure don’t seem to be happy campers. They were nasty enough before the Republican Convention but with the selection of Gov. Sarah Palin as Sen. John McCain’s running mate, the Democrat zoo opened its door and all the wild animals spilled out in a rage. The media has gone on a fugue of attack on those who don’t suscribe to Barack Obama’s kind of politics. Thirty lawyers have been digging deeply for any kind of negative or scandalous dirt on Sarah Palin in Alaska. It’s hard for me to imagine going to the beautiful state of Alaska not to see the amazing sights but, instead, to dig for dirt.

Some Democrat feminists accuse Americans of being racists if they are not intending to vote for Barack Obama. Other feminist writers are now penning extremely nasty screeds against Sarah Palin. She just has to be a man they rail.

A great number of Obama’s followers have dug themselves so deep in the slime that they no longer resemble human beings. It is being alleged that a twenty year old college student, the son of a Democrat state representative from Memphis, Tennessee is the hacker who stole into Sarah Palin’s email account on the hunt for dirt.

Apparently, he couldn’t find any. And yet, the civil libertarian zealots who sue the government every time a terrorist gets nabbed aren’t up in arms about this invasion of privacy. They are more concerned that Palin may according to the A.P. (who refuses to cooperate with the probe) have sent emails to government employees. The A.P. needs to be renamed, Anti-Palin. If this isn’t enough evidence that the Associated Press doesn’t just report the news, they skew the news, I’m sure they will be presenting more evidence before the moon rises.

Messiah, Obama is not. Thug is more like it. In a rally today he suggested that his supporters get in the faces of those who aren’t supporting him.

This is getting too heavy. There is nothing I can do about the loonies on the left except point out that they are really getting shrill. There is no sunshine in their smiles, no happy anticipation of the future, no hope, and alas, no change in this typical democrat campaign.

Everything is wrong with America, according to Obama and company. Life is not as it should be.

This is not a campaign about morning in America, it’s a campaign about The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very bad Country… that must change.

This will not sell.

I truly believe that one basic reason why many feminists are so upset about Sarah Palin is that she has such great taste in shoes. She’s normal and intelligent and loves her family and her country. She’s uplifting. She’s got the gams. And she’s got those shoes.

17 Sep 2008 09:32 pm

Democrats and Barack Obama like to portray Senator John McCain as too old to lead our nation and yet their favorite members of the Supreme Court are really up there in years. Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg is 75 years old. I’ve googled but can’t find any article complaining about her age.

By the time the Court convenes again in October five of the nine justices will be seventy or older. John Paul Stevens is 88 years old. Stephen Breyer is 69 years old. David Souter is 68 years old. Anthony Kennedy is 71.

So the liberals and the swinger are really getting long in the teeth. As long as they are breathing their clerks will do the work to keep the liberals happy.

This is probably what haunts lib’s dreams. John McCain’s age is only 72 but should he die in office we are looking at President Sarah Heath Palin.

The only news article I found when googling Ginsburg is this snarky attack on Sarah Palin by an Alaskan writer who claims to have a uterus. Shannyn Moore is not voting for either team she claims. She is voting for the Supreme Court. Yeah. Right. Sure. It’s simply a hit piece on Palin. Enough of one that she has appeared on Olbermann to scratch his weird and itching ears.


John McCain would probably say, Barack Obama is bilging out. This is probably everywhere by now. I want to do my part in helping it go viral. Hat tip: Instapundit

I’m currently reading Faith of My Fathers by Senator John McCain. I am home sick with some kind of flu and had a very high fever last night but when the fever broke I was able to pick up his book again. It’s the kind of book that is in some places very painful to read. The accounts of the interrogations and the torture and the deep shame that John felt after he had been broken are deeply stirring. Leo Thorsness, a fellow POW of John McCain writes about why he believes that John McCain will be a great president. Hat tip: Powerline

The question where do we find such men? applies to John McCain. His account of the torture and deprivation that he and his fellow POWs endured is searing. Not the kind of seared in his memory that John Kerry meant but the full meaning of the word. McCain has a strong will which has already seen him through torture, imprisonment, deprivation, and now he is in a political campaign that is vicious. Not on the Republicans’ part. The best McCain ads have been tough but not mean, not personal. Not so with the Barack Obama campaign.

The ad criticizing John McCain for his lack of computer skills was not only hateful but it displayed complete ignorance. Perhaps a little googling might have informed the Barack Obama campaign that as a result of wounds received during his five plus years imprisonment in the Vietnam War John McCain uses a mouse but has trouble with the typing.

As the day has gone by my fever has gone down but reading this may bring it back up. Some deranged leftist hacker has broken into Sarah Palin’s private email account. Not only that, they’ve published family photos, private email addresses of the Palin children and seventeen year old daughter, Bristol’s cell phone number. Is there nothing sacred to leftists? Why do I bother to ask that question? Michelle Malkin has more.

So it’s okay to invade Sarah Palin’s privacy because she is a Republican huh? But it’s not okay to invade terrorists’ privacy?

Greg Gutfield somehow gets into the leftist’s mind and boy is it ever loony.

Hannity is interviewing Sarah Palin right now. I love her accent, she is very well spoken and I especially appreciate her comment that John McCain didn’t ask her to check her opinions at the door. Sarah is working on McCain about drilling in Anwar. She’s a quick study on economic issues, especially all the government bailouts. She doesn’t like them but understands the needfulness of the AIG bailout.

Ha! Karl Rove told Alan Colmes that he is embarrassing himself. I like this comment on Hot Air.

Hillary Clinton won’t join in the protest of Ahmadinejad because Sarah Palin will be there. That is so fifth grade. I’m sure she was urged to stay away by the Obama-ites.

I think I need to check my temperature again.

13 Sep 2008 10:45 am

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How odd that the name of the Hurricane plowing into Texas is named Ike. When I was a kid my family went on a trip down to Dallas, Texas and stopped in Denison to see the birthplace of President Dwight D. Eisenhower. The house was very close to a railyard with trains sitting on the tracks.

I remember telling my mother when we were walking up the creaky stairs in the old homeplace that the two story home seemed pretty modest for a president and her response was that Eisenhower’s parents did not know he would grow up to be president. She added something to the effect that although our own home was very modest it might also be a memorialized historical place someday.

My sweet, always encouraging mother. So, Ike, trains, moms, and the big skies of Texas have always had a special place in my heart. I am praying for the folks down in Texas and Louisiana. We have family in Alexandria, Louisiana and in Texas (all over Texas) and I am worried about them.

Lorie Byrd mentioned the irony of a Hurricane named Ike in this post in which she takes apart Charles Gibson for his snotty attitude towards Gov. Sarah Palin. I have only watched out-takes of the interview. For some reason, although I do email, my fingers are unable to change the channel on the remote to ABC. (or any of the other Palin-non compos mentis channels)

When my Dad was a teenager, he and some of his friends drove down to Galveston, Texas in a convertible that had no brakes. Just as they got to Galveston a hurricane hit. My Dad and his friends decided to stay and stick it out. They found shelter which was probably the only smart thing they did during that trip.

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My Dad and his buddies were horsemen and used to ride their horses all over Northwest Arkansas. I could fill a book with the stories Daddy has told me of his adventures. Was his generation more daring than subsequent generations or were their parents just more negligent? I know my grandparents were hard working people and raised two fine sons but they did allow my dad and Uncle Max a lot of freedom.

It is already starting to get windy here and we are expecting the dregs of Hurricane Ike this weekend. We have had a lot of rainy days here since Gustav and I have rarely used the garden hose to water my flowers. The rain has taken care of that.

When my husband was at the Army War College in Carlisle, Pennsylvania we made many trips to Gettysburg. On one trip I persuaded my husband to take a tour of the Eisenhower Farm, near the grounds of the battlefield. The home is very fifties, and full of the keepsakes that Mamie Eisenhower collected during her life as an Army Wife. The kitchen was quite small and was an avocado green. There were pale pink towels hanging in the bathroom but not as much of that color which one would have expected.

This grey Saturday morning I have been reading Lucianne, Michelle Malkin, Wizbang, The Anchoress and Sisu.

I always check Instapundit first thing in the morning and Hugh Hewitt. Then The Corner and Powerline and Blackfive.

There are, of course, also a lot of other blogs that I read and link to. There are lots of good reads on this dreary Saturday morning.

This New York Times article about Sarah Palin was probably intended by the writer, Jan Hoffman to be a little picture in the life of the average tacky Alaskan but it turned out to be a heart warming piece about the friendship between Sarah Palin and her hairdresser.

Meanwhile I am continuing to follow Hurricane Ike. The Houston mayor is asking the citizens of Houston to boil water but of course there is a power outage in Houston, Galveston and many other areas. Gonna be kind of hard to do that unless the residents have a fireplace which is doubtful.

I am signing off for now to go make some coffee.

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