Dear Senator Obama,
We have had 8 years of “smear and fear” politics thanks to Karl Rove, Dick Cheney and the Republican boys. I am deeply disappointed in your recent back and forth sniping with Senator McCain, who seems intent on waging another negative attack ad political campaign. Please, please, do not sink to their level. I know that you are probably surrounded by slick campaign gurus that have convinced you that you cannot possibly win unless you do the same, but we were hoping for something better this time. In this eye for an eye back and forth, the issues are getting lost.
I do not care if Senator McCain can remember how many houses he owns. I do care if you can explain the difference between your healthcare plan and his. I want to know why your plan is better. I care that politics as usual is tearing apart and dividing our country more and more. We wanted CHANGE. We wanted HOPE. What happened to the “audacity” of that hope? Where is the man who spoke those inspiring words at the 2004 Democratic National Convention? I want him back.
I want a campaign of ideas, vision and hope. I want a leader who will roll up his sleeves and begin to clean up the mess left to us by the Bush administration. I want a leader who will encourage the best and the brightest to find solutions. I want a leader who will use diplomacy before military force. I want a leader who can begin to heal our deep divisions and bring us together as Americans.
Senator Obama, are you that man?
FOOD for THOUGHT...
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
I am Voting Republican?
I received a sarcastic e-mail from a friend entitled, “I’m voting Democratic.” The sarcasm and characterization of Democrats and liberals was somewhat surprising. It made me think. Perhaps I have been wrong all along. I have been receiving abundant e-mails from friends and family reassuring me that Barack Obama is a dangerous man. He is someone to be feared. His name, his looks and his message are suspect. It took me a while, but I finally decided that I should vote Republican.
I am voting Republican because I just love the way our Republican president (or vice president?) has run our once respected country these last seven years. Who else could have taken us from a budget surplus under President Clinton to record national debt? Who else could have taken us from gasoline prices at the pump under $2.00 per gallon to over $4.00 per gallon while oil company profits broke all time records? Who else would have had the courage to cut taxes for the wealthiest 5% of taxpayers and start a war on two fronts costing us billions of dollars a month? Who else would have had the courage to break long-standing treaties and international conventions costing this country our moral standing and respect in the international community? God bless George W. Bush and his party for single-handedly dismantling our constitution and our Bill of Rights to keep us safe from another terrorist attack. “Just go shopping!” was his message to America after 9/11. America loves to shop.
I'm voting Republican because I know I can count on John McCain to carry on the same high level of experience in local and foreign affairs that have led to war, record national debt, a mortgage crisis and a national recession, if not outright depression like our parents survived in the 1930's. I want MORE of the same! Forget “a change we can believe in!” Give me business as usual! War and hard times make us stronger. Just ask our parents and grandparents. Wars test our national resolve and boost our economy.
While we are at it, God bless the good old American gas-guzzlers that made the oilmen rich and powerful. In turn, these men owe a tremendous debt to Detroit. While the rest of the world was working on smaller more fuel-efficient cars, Ford, GM, and Chrysler were cranking out Hummers, SUV’s and large pickup trucks. That is what America demanded. Thank the Lord McCain has joined the oil boys in calling for more offshore drilling and development of our national wildlife refuges so we can have a little more oil ten years down the road. Not only that, but John wants to build a bunch of nuclear power plants. Forget three-mile Island and Chernobyl for a moment. Now, I know we do not have a safe way to deal with the substantial radioactive waste they would generate, but we can deal with those problems down the road. Forget about extending federal subsidies for the investment and development of wind and solar power. Forget development of alternative and renewable energy sources. Forget drilling those substantial oil reserves that exist on land already leased by the oilmen right here in the United States. There are beaches to blacken and natural areas to exploit. Do not even get me started on coal mining and coal burning power plants. Fossil fuels rock, baby! Use up all the resources that we have first. When the oil runs out, then we can look at these other things. Let us live in the now...my friends.
I am voting Republican because I believe in a strong vice-president. Dick Cheney has done an outstanding job running his secret shadow government from his "undisclosed location". He proved that no one is above this administration's vindictive revenge...not even active CIA agents. The secret, hidden agenda and loyalty to that agenda is what matters. He proved that his top henchmen were loyal enough to take a bullet and fall on their sword for him. We need MORE of these kinds of people in our government... zealous bureaucrats ready to utter lies and misinformation at a moment's bidding from above. We need MORE secrecy in our government, if we are going to defeat global terrorism. Right on, Dick!
I am voting Republican because they know how to get the most talented people to mismanage their wars for years and years without any progress (Bin Laden is still at large I hear). After all, isn’t that what congress is all about? Immediately after the 9/11 attack, we had worldwide sympathy and yet this administration still managed to get the rest of the world to hate and more importantly... fear us. This administration put our diplomats on the bench and rode off into the sunset firing their six-shooters and shouting, “It is our way or the highway.” God Bless these hard working Republican public servants...wherever they are now (writing their memoirs and tell-all books I hear). Thank God for their ability to keep us all living in FEAR. Fear keeps us on our toes and ever vigilant against those who covet and would destroy our way of life. Sometimes we have to sacrifice our rights and freedoms to feel...safe.
I have seen the light at last. If we cannot beat them...JOIN them! Long live President John McCain, the oil industry, Detroit and the shadowy power brokers behind the scenes! I am voting Republican.
FOOD for THOUGHT...
I am voting Republican because I just love the way our Republican president (or vice president?) has run our once respected country these last seven years. Who else could have taken us from a budget surplus under President Clinton to record national debt? Who else could have taken us from gasoline prices at the pump under $2.00 per gallon to over $4.00 per gallon while oil company profits broke all time records? Who else would have had the courage to cut taxes for the wealthiest 5% of taxpayers and start a war on two fronts costing us billions of dollars a month? Who else would have had the courage to break long-standing treaties and international conventions costing this country our moral standing and respect in the international community? God bless George W. Bush and his party for single-handedly dismantling our constitution and our Bill of Rights to keep us safe from another terrorist attack. “Just go shopping!” was his message to America after 9/11. America loves to shop.
I'm voting Republican because I know I can count on John McCain to carry on the same high level of experience in local and foreign affairs that have led to war, record national debt, a mortgage crisis and a national recession, if not outright depression like our parents survived in the 1930's. I want MORE of the same! Forget “a change we can believe in!” Give me business as usual! War and hard times make us stronger. Just ask our parents and grandparents. Wars test our national resolve and boost our economy.
While we are at it, God bless the good old American gas-guzzlers that made the oilmen rich and powerful. In turn, these men owe a tremendous debt to Detroit. While the rest of the world was working on smaller more fuel-efficient cars, Ford, GM, and Chrysler were cranking out Hummers, SUV’s and large pickup trucks. That is what America demanded. Thank the Lord McCain has joined the oil boys in calling for more offshore drilling and development of our national wildlife refuges so we can have a little more oil ten years down the road. Not only that, but John wants to build a bunch of nuclear power plants. Forget three-mile Island and Chernobyl for a moment. Now, I know we do not have a safe way to deal with the substantial radioactive waste they would generate, but we can deal with those problems down the road. Forget about extending federal subsidies for the investment and development of wind and solar power. Forget development of alternative and renewable energy sources. Forget drilling those substantial oil reserves that exist on land already leased by the oilmen right here in the United States. There are beaches to blacken and natural areas to exploit. Do not even get me started on coal mining and coal burning power plants. Fossil fuels rock, baby! Use up all the resources that we have first. When the oil runs out, then we can look at these other things. Let us live in the now...my friends.
I am voting Republican because I believe in a strong vice-president. Dick Cheney has done an outstanding job running his secret shadow government from his "undisclosed location". He proved that no one is above this administration's vindictive revenge...not even active CIA agents. The secret, hidden agenda and loyalty to that agenda is what matters. He proved that his top henchmen were loyal enough to take a bullet and fall on their sword for him. We need MORE of these kinds of people in our government... zealous bureaucrats ready to utter lies and misinformation at a moment's bidding from above. We need MORE secrecy in our government, if we are going to defeat global terrorism. Right on, Dick!
I am voting Republican because they know how to get the most talented people to mismanage their wars for years and years without any progress (Bin Laden is still at large I hear). After all, isn’t that what congress is all about? Immediately after the 9/11 attack, we had worldwide sympathy and yet this administration still managed to get the rest of the world to hate and more importantly... fear us. This administration put our diplomats on the bench and rode off into the sunset firing their six-shooters and shouting, “It is our way or the highway.” God Bless these hard working Republican public servants...wherever they are now (writing their memoirs and tell-all books I hear). Thank God for their ability to keep us all living in FEAR. Fear keeps us on our toes and ever vigilant against those who covet and would destroy our way of life. Sometimes we have to sacrifice our rights and freedoms to feel...safe.
I have seen the light at last. If we cannot beat them...JOIN them! Long live President John McCain, the oil industry, Detroit and the shadowy power brokers behind the scenes! I am voting Republican.
FOOD for THOUGHT...
Saturday, August 2, 2008
The Motorcycle
The summer I graduated high school was a tumultuous time in my life. Not only was I subject to the lottery drawing for the draft, but I had applied to several state colleges and was waiting to hear something from their admission departments. My future was at a crossroads. Would I be going to Vietnam or to a college campus in the fall?
That summer my dad decided it would be fun to look at motorcycles. We went to the local Suzuki dealership and listened to the sales pitch. My dad was a sucker for “the pitch.” He loved trading in his last car for the latest model. He would bring it home and “surprise” my mom with his newest acquisition. We fell for a little Suzuki 80. It was intended to be a dirt bike, but it was just big enough to be allowed on the streets...with an optional package that installed brake lights and turn signals. The dealer threw in a helmet, even though the State of Illinois did not require one at the time. Dad said it would make my mom feel better about his little purchase, if I had a helmet. The dealer gave us a few lessons and pointers and then we loaded that baby on the optional rack the dealer had installed on the back of our car.
My mother was not happy, to say the least. Both Dad and I had to do some fast-talking. I could take it with me down to school in the fall. It would be a cheap, easy way to get around. I wouldn‘t have to borrow the car...so much. The biggest reason to let me keep it was the safety helmet. I promised to wear it, even though the state did not require it. Since Dad had taught me to drive his black 1967 Volkswagen Beetle, I already had some idea about how to work a clutch and switch gears. We gave her a demonstration around the court and up and down the street. See how safe?
My first solo trip out of the subdivision where we lived scared the hell out of me. I had just turned onto the highway, winding through the gears and cruising up the road. Suddenly, a car backed out in front of me onto the highway from his house along the side of the road. My life began passing before me and I could just picture my mom yelling at my dad, “I told you so!” I hit the brakes hard and was amazed that I stopped my bike in time without fishtailing all over the road. I realized for the first time how vulnerable I was. For a while, I took side roads and avoided divided highways until I got a better feel for the motorcycle. Soon switching gears and leaning into the turns became automatic. I did not tell my mother of my first encounter until much later. I used it to reassure her that the motorcycle had good brakes. She was still skeptical.
Later that summer, I rode my little Suzuki 80 over to my friend’s house. Ross was home and his parents were going out for the evening. After they left, Ross and I helped ourselves to his father’s bar in the living room. Ross produced some Switzer-Sweets mini-cigars and we proceeded to be “big-shots” for the evening. I decided to leave before his parents came home, but feeling“cool” with my motorcycle by now, I left some “doughnuts” (tight, circular tracks) in Ross’ front lawn. Ross was impressed...unfortunately, his mother was not. As usual, Ross had some explaining to do. His mother did not appreciate that it was my way of paying back her son for leaving tire marks in my driveway as he held the brake and stomped on the gas, spinning his back tires. (It was sort of his signature.) His father never could figure out why his son went through a set of tires in just one summer.
I loved that motorcycle. By now, I was riding it out into the country on longer trips and avoiding the stop and go traffic of the suburbs whenever I could. Unfortunately, the suburbs of Chicago were spreading quickly out into the remaining countryside. I would stow my helmet on the seat behind me and just feel the wind and the freedom of the open road. I enjoyed the small patches of open fields and trees before they were gobbled up forever. I finally understood why people felt so passionate about their bikes and their rides across this country. That summer I got a taste of that wonderful freedom and power. It was my summer of transition from boy to man.
As fall approached, I had been accepted into Southern Illinois University at Carbondale. It was a seven and a half hour drive from Chicago. I planned to bring my motorcycle with me to school. What I failed to do was check out the university’s policy on parking spaces for freshmen students. The university did not issue parking permits to incoming freshmen. It was not until we arrived with my bike and all my stuff that I learned there was no place for my bike. I did not know anyone off campus who might have a space, so Dad had to take it back with him. I think secretly he was glad, since he did not get much of a chance to ride it that summer.
My family moved to a new house in the country near a small town northwest of the Chicago suburbs while I was away at school. My dad sold the little Suzuki 80 to his neighbor, a fellow pilot and captain with American Airlines. One morning our neighbor was chasing chickens on the bike in his front yard. He hit a hole, wrecked the bike and broke his leg. It almost ended his flying career with the airlines. When my dad told me the story, I could almost hear my mother saying, “See, I told you so. I rest my case.”
I never had another motorcycle. I bought my dad’s old ‘67 VW Beetle the next year for $500 and drove it down to school. I found a place to park off campus. I never forgot that wonderful summer when my life was changing. That summer I took risks...I was immortal.
FOOD for THOUGHT...
That summer my dad decided it would be fun to look at motorcycles. We went to the local Suzuki dealership and listened to the sales pitch. My dad was a sucker for “the pitch.” He loved trading in his last car for the latest model. He would bring it home and “surprise” my mom with his newest acquisition. We fell for a little Suzuki 80. It was intended to be a dirt bike, but it was just big enough to be allowed on the streets...with an optional package that installed brake lights and turn signals. The dealer threw in a helmet, even though the State of Illinois did not require one at the time. Dad said it would make my mom feel better about his little purchase, if I had a helmet. The dealer gave us a few lessons and pointers and then we loaded that baby on the optional rack the dealer had installed on the back of our car.
My mother was not happy, to say the least. Both Dad and I had to do some fast-talking. I could take it with me down to school in the fall. It would be a cheap, easy way to get around. I wouldn‘t have to borrow the car...so much. The biggest reason to let me keep it was the safety helmet. I promised to wear it, even though the state did not require it. Since Dad had taught me to drive his black 1967 Volkswagen Beetle, I already had some idea about how to work a clutch and switch gears. We gave her a demonstration around the court and up and down the street. See how safe?
My first solo trip out of the subdivision where we lived scared the hell out of me. I had just turned onto the highway, winding through the gears and cruising up the road. Suddenly, a car backed out in front of me onto the highway from his house along the side of the road. My life began passing before me and I could just picture my mom yelling at my dad, “I told you so!” I hit the brakes hard and was amazed that I stopped my bike in time without fishtailing all over the road. I realized for the first time how vulnerable I was. For a while, I took side roads and avoided divided highways until I got a better feel for the motorcycle. Soon switching gears and leaning into the turns became automatic. I did not tell my mother of my first encounter until much later. I used it to reassure her that the motorcycle had good brakes. She was still skeptical.
Later that summer, I rode my little Suzuki 80 over to my friend’s house. Ross was home and his parents were going out for the evening. After they left, Ross and I helped ourselves to his father’s bar in the living room. Ross produced some Switzer-Sweets mini-cigars and we proceeded to be “big-shots” for the evening. I decided to leave before his parents came home, but feeling“cool” with my motorcycle by now, I left some “doughnuts” (tight, circular tracks) in Ross’ front lawn. Ross was impressed...unfortunately, his mother was not. As usual, Ross had some explaining to do. His mother did not appreciate that it was my way of paying back her son for leaving tire marks in my driveway as he held the brake and stomped on the gas, spinning his back tires. (It was sort of his signature.) His father never could figure out why his son went through a set of tires in just one summer.
I loved that motorcycle. By now, I was riding it out into the country on longer trips and avoiding the stop and go traffic of the suburbs whenever I could. Unfortunately, the suburbs of Chicago were spreading quickly out into the remaining countryside. I would stow my helmet on the seat behind me and just feel the wind and the freedom of the open road. I enjoyed the small patches of open fields and trees before they were gobbled up forever. I finally understood why people felt so passionate about their bikes and their rides across this country. That summer I got a taste of that wonderful freedom and power. It was my summer of transition from boy to man.
As fall approached, I had been accepted into Southern Illinois University at Carbondale. It was a seven and a half hour drive from Chicago. I planned to bring my motorcycle with me to school. What I failed to do was check out the university’s policy on parking spaces for freshmen students. The university did not issue parking permits to incoming freshmen. It was not until we arrived with my bike and all my stuff that I learned there was no place for my bike. I did not know anyone off campus who might have a space, so Dad had to take it back with him. I think secretly he was glad, since he did not get much of a chance to ride it that summer.
My family moved to a new house in the country near a small town northwest of the Chicago suburbs while I was away at school. My dad sold the little Suzuki 80 to his neighbor, a fellow pilot and captain with American Airlines. One morning our neighbor was chasing chickens on the bike in his front yard. He hit a hole, wrecked the bike and broke his leg. It almost ended his flying career with the airlines. When my dad told me the story, I could almost hear my mother saying, “See, I told you so. I rest my case.”
I never had another motorcycle. I bought my dad’s old ‘67 VW Beetle the next year for $500 and drove it down to school. I found a place to park off campus. I never forgot that wonderful summer when my life was changing. That summer I took risks...I was immortal.
FOOD for THOUGHT...
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